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forever-once-gone · 18 days

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Day 3: Yoongi - You Meet Your Fated at a Coffee Shop <3

Part of the Love, Amour, Aur Pyaar drabble series for February! (lol)

Word count: 3.7k (can't keep them short for the life of me)

Content and Warnings: soulmate au, coffee shop au, gn!reader, sharing preferences, arguing, frustration, they're both a bit dense lol, but other than that nothing too terrible in this, just sweet honestly, almost throwing up, coffee snob!Yoongi, barista!Yoongi, mocha slander, terms of endearment: baby, dear, Y/n is ready to FIGHT

Author's Note: Hey! So like I know it is well past Feb, but tbh it was crazy of me to even think id have time to publish these things during midterms season. Even though I had reading week, it was just not going to happen. Even though I did manage to write some of the days, I obviously couldn't every day. And posting? Forget about it. Anyway, even if it's past Feb, would you want me to post the ones I did write? It won't be instantaneous, but I would like to share what I did write, and maybe even finish all the other days as I had already planned out what I wanted to write each day. Let me know if you're interested! Anyways, as always, enjoy! <3

Another mocha, just another mocha to fill up in the takeaway cup for another person who is trying to get through the February cold. Yoongi gets a lot of mocha requests before the winter holidays season. When so many are hyped up with Christmas cheer. Even people who do not celebrate Christmas tend to indulge in peppermint mochas when the snow hits the ground. And the trend trickled into the post holiday months every winter season. To the point when people ordered mochas even into early spring.

Yoongi, ever the coffee enthusiast, hated having to make so many mochas.

Frankly, he considered mochas just snobby chocolate milk with the smallest hint of caffeine. Like do mochas even deserve to be considered coffee-based beverages? He thought not. You could barely even taste the coffee in between the thick, tongue-coating taste of chocolate and the heaviness of way too much milk.

Everytime he had to make mochas, every single time, he’d be cursing in his head about how he would rather just be able to make his espressos, black coffees, and iced americanos. Iced americanos are the most he’d be willing to go when it comes to diffusing the taste of coffee.

Adding milk? Forget it.

Adding sugar? He’d rather just pour it down the drain than drink it.

Alas, when it comes to his job, he has to fulfill the customer’s wishes. No matter how much he hated the sugary, barely-even-coffee, more-like-milkshakes drinks, he would make the drink for them. A waste of good coffee in his books, but he needed the money that came from his overpriced caffeinated chocolate milk

So, when it came to a coffee-novice coming into his coffee shop asking for a mocha, he would grit his teeth but make the drink nonetheless, the underline he requires to be able to pay his shop’s mortgage and keep all of his employees.

It was another one of these spring days when he’d unlocked the front doors of the café only to see someone new. Normally, only a few select people would come to his café so early in the morning, after all, most people started work at 9 or later. Only a few people would come at 5:30 when he opened. But today, there was someone new.

There was you, a person he’d never seen before standing behind his regulars. A cheery looking person, giving him a smile when he unlocked the door and opened it for the small group of people to trickle in.

He made his way behind the counter as he began his small routine with his regulars, smiling at each one of them as they gave him their orders, even though there really was no need as he had gotten each one of them memorized ages ago.

He took and prepared each order with practiced ease, until he got to the last person in line. The one who had spent the last ten minutes scanning the chalkboard menu with an analytical look.

You.

“Good morning,” you said to him with a kind smile.

“Good morning,” he replied. “What can I get started for you today?”

You wrung your hands, scanning the menu again, before looking back at him. “Can I get a large mocha?”

He scoffed. Seriously, chocolate this early in the morning? Typical from a cheery-looking person like yourself.

“What?” you asked, wondering if you’d broken some unspoken social cue. You’d seen the way he’d kindly spoken to the customers before you, making small talk, so what happened when it came to you?

“Nothing, nothing,” he waved you off, before pressing some buttons on his cash register’s screen. “That’ll be 5000 won.”

“No, no. That definitely was something. Did I say anything wrong?” You insisted, brows furrowed together in a mix of worry and a bit of indignation.

“No, not at all. It’ll be 5000 won.” He tried to force a smile, but your eyes were squinted together just as you did before when you were scanning the menu, but this time your object of interest was him.

“What? You just don’t like me or something?” You felt a bit uncomfortable, out of place in this cafe with a barista who seemed to hold a certain disdain for you from the moment you opened your mouth. But that didn’t mean you were going to back down from this entitled man. You eyed him up and down, letting him know the contempt was mutual.

He let out a small scoff, before seeming to recompose himself with customer service professionalism. “Of course not. I’m sorry if it seemed that way. Your total is 5000 won.”

You could see through his poorly reconstructed composure, but nonetheless gave him the requested money. You were already running late to your job interview, and you needed this job if you hoped to actually be able to rent a place in this city. You had already spent three weeks staying with your friend after moving here from your old city. You couldn’t stay with her forever, even if she was willing to keep you for forever if you needed it.

You stepped away from the register after he had given you your change and moved away to make your drink. You took the time to continue admiring the interior of the cafe as the barista flew around his counter space. You took in the worn furniture resembling something half between industrial and contemporary. The hanging lights and the various maps lining the walls of the place. Very hipster. Fitting for a coffee shop.

The call of: “One large mocha?” brought you back from your inspection. With a hum, you took your drink from him, feeling the drink warm your gloved hands.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, have a nice day.” And with that he was moving back to his dishes to clean up the dishes he’d used before the next customers wandered in.

You turned away from him, moving towards the door. Before you pushed open the door to brave into the cold, you flipped open the flap on the top of the to-go cup. You took a quick sip, ready for the delicious drink to coat your tongue, but instead your tastebuds were assaulted with a heinous amount of sugar. It tasted like you’d boiled a pool full of chocolate and dumped a truck full of sugar and then reduced the entire pool full over a roaring fire until only a cup of the concentrated mixture remained full of pure chocolate and sugar.

You immediately turned back on your heel. Pressing your tongue against the tip of your mouth, trying to rid it of the sweet assault. “You messed up,” you slammed the cup on the counter, seeing the barista’s shoulders jump at the loud thump.

“What’s the issue?” he asked, as he wiped off his hands on a hand towel before flipping it onto his shoulder. He leaned onto the counter with the palms of his hands, not even trying to hide his annoyance with you anymore considering the frown he sent your way.

“This is way too sweet. Like what, did you dump a whole bag of sugar into this thing?” You nudged the cup towards him. “If you didn’t like me, you could have just refused to take my order, you didn’t have to do all this!” You gestured to the cup.

“Please, I need you to calm down. I didn’t do anything to your drink. It’s just a regular mocha. Mochas are sweet, you should have known that before you ordered it for the first time.” He rolled his eyes slightly.

“First time? Oh, honey, no—I know what mochas are meant to taste like and this is not it. It’s practically the only thing I ever get!”

He scoffed yet again. Typical, he thought to himself. Never would've guessed. “Just take your drink and go, I don’t have time for this.”

“You don’t believe me do you?” You said in disbelief. You never would dare fight with someone like this, but for some reason, this one guy was just getting on your nerves. Typically, even if your order had gotten mixed up you would just swallow your disappointment and try to enjoy the drink anyway. Even if it was something bitter and boring like a plain black coffee. But the way this man had been acting from the moment you ordered has been rude and completely ruined your confidence. Not what you needed at all before trying to get this job. And for some reason, it felt like all your senses and emotions had been turned up to 100, so controlling your anger was a lot harder.

“Drink it,” you told him, holding his eye contact. “Yeah, drink it. If you can drink even one gulp without making a face, I’ll admit I was wrong and leave.”

The barista tongued his cheek for a moment, contemplating what you said. “I don’t want to. I don’t like mochas, besides, I can’t drink a customer’s drink anyway.”

“I’m just gonna take your refusal as you admitting that you fucked with my drink.”

By this point the two people left in the shop were watching the two of you fighting at the counter. A middle aged man walked up to the counter, stepping in to try and defuse the situation. “Why don't you just take a sip of it, Yoongi? Just to prove them wrong?”

“I refuse,” the barista, Yoongi, said to the man. “It’s a matter of principle at this point. I’m not drinking it. I know my abilities, and I know that that mocha would be as good as mochas get. I’m not gonna take a sip of a nasty ass mocha just cause this person wants to throw a fuss at five in the morning.”

“So you admit you fucked with it?! You admitted it’s nasty!”

“No,” he rolled his eyes at you for the umpteenth time this morning. “I just hate mochas, they taste like shit. But anyone who likes those chocolatey messes will admit mine are as good as they get. I might not like them, but I still put all my effort into making sure they taste good.”

“Just fucking drink it then! I’m not joking, this tastes like shit. Maybe something is wrong with your milk steaming machine or something—this just isn’t right!”

The middle-aged man decided to try and put the fight to an end. “Why don’t I just give it a try, huh?”

“No!” But Yoongi and you said at the same time, before turning back to each other again.

“He refuses to admit it, and he has to be the one to try it!” You crossed your arms.

“And they’re the one who is making a big situation over nothing, you should never give in to people like them.” He glared at you. Now that his patrons were getting involved, he wanted to get you out as soon as possible.

“Just try it! I swear it’s unbelievable. Just give it one sip!” You threw up your arms in frustration. “Come on, I’m not even asking for a refund or anything, I just want you to admit that you took your anger out on me for no reason. That’s all, I don’t even want an apology!”

“I don’t need to apologize! I didn’t do anything wrong! That mocha is PERFECT! I’d bet my life on it.” Yoongi was fuming now, chest heaving with frustration and annoyance. He was this close to calling the cops on you and calling it a day.

“Oh shut up with the ‘perfect’ nonsense! It’s not perfect! Just try it! This whole thing would have been over ages ago if you just gave it a try!” You pulled the cap off of the cup. “If you’re afraid it’s poisoned, I’ll take a sip of it before you drink it. See look.”

You took a swig of the drink, nearly choking on the sugary beverage as you tried to keep the concoction from coming right back up. You gagged for a second or two, before finally straightening back up, wiping your mouth with the back of your gloved hand.

The two men around you exchanged expressions, their anger turning more to disbelief. Either you were a great actor or that drink really, really sucked.

“There, see. I didn’t tamper with it. Now, please, please just try it. Please. Don’t make me look insane. Just try it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Fine. Fucking fine. I’ll try it. But if it tastes fine, you need to leave my shop and never come back, you hear me?”

“I swear. I won’t come back, don’t plan to anyway.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow at that, before grabbing the lidless cup from the counter. He held it up, hesitated, and then said, “I really don’t like mochas,” with a scrunch of his nose. He took a breath and then took the smallest sip you’ve ever seen a human being take before slamming the cup down. His hand immediately came up to cover his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed.

You couldn’t bear to hide your smug look. How was he gonna hide how terrible the drink was now? He looked like he was going to throw up. Ha! That will show him!

But then he did the weirdest thing. He took another sip. A long sip this time. Other than his furrowed brows, he didn’t choke, gag, or even dry heave for a millisecond. Just watching him drink was making you nauseous.

“Oh my god!” you yelled, snatching the cup from his hands before he could take another sip, holding it up behind you, away from him. “You’re going to give yourself diabetes if you drink that whole thing!”

Immediately he tried to reach across the counter and get it back from you. “Hey! Give that back! This makes no sense!”

“Yoongi, calm down!” The man said, pushing the barista back off of the counter that he was practically leaning his whole body onto at this point.

“Why does it taste good?!” The distress that the barista was under put even you on pause. You watched the barista scramble around, rubbing at his head as if it was aching him. Was this the effect of all the sugar?

“Hey, man, you doing alright?” You placed the cup back down on the counter, holding a hand out to him to show you meant no harm.

He just shook his head, picking up a half empty mug from behind the counter that you had seen him periodically sipping from between the preparation of yours and the others’ drinks. He took a large gulp only to immediately run to the sink, spitting the drink right into the drain.

“Why does my coffee taste so heinous?! Why does it taste like fucking bitter gasoline? Why does the mocha taste so fucking good?!” He was still hunched over the sink, the only thing you could see of him was his back a bit of his lowered head. His arm reached to grab the hand towel on his shoulder to throw it to the side.

You had no answer for him. This was all so bizarre.

“This—” the middle aged man brought both your and Yoongi’s attention to him, as he brought the cup back to his lips for another sip. When had he taken your mocha from you? Was it when Yoongi was losing his mind?

“This tastes…” He took another sip. His brows furrowed in concentration.

“This tastes like a regular mocha.” He put the cup back down. “I think you guys need to calm down for a moment and think about what this means.”

“What do you mean?” you asked him.

“I think you know what I mean, dear.” The man had a kind-hearted look on his face as his eyes flitted between both you and Yoongi.

“OH MY GOD.” Yoongi grabbed the edge of the counter, seeming to understand the man’s insinuation. “There is no way.”

“What? What am I missing?” The man only shook his head as Yoongi raised his head to meet your gaze. He just pushed his half empty mug to you. Inside was black coffee.

“Try it. I need to see if it’s true.”

“Um, no. I don’t like black coffee. Yuck.” You nudged the mug right back to him only for him to stop the movement halfway.

“That’s exactly why you have to try this,” Yoongi said as calmly as he could, though you could swear he looked almost like he could faint right then and there.

“Fine,” you took the mug from him. “Just cause you did drink the mocha.”

You swirled the dark liquid in the mug, debating whether it was worth it to drink the bitter liquid. But when you looked up to see that both the man and Yoongi were watching you like scientists inspecting their latest mutant rats for their observational notes, you just took a sip only to get them to stop staring at you.

Instantly your throat was soothed as the smooth taste of the perfectly roasted coffee made its way through your mouth. You’d never drunk anything so refreshing, so calming as it warmed you up from the inside out. Even though there was no sugar or cream, you surprisingly didn’t mind it as it allowed the rich flavour of the black coffee to shine through strongly. It tasted so good.

You didn’t put down the mug until you’d finished the whole thing.

The middle aged man had a small smile on his face, while Yoongi seemed to be still in his inspector mode.

“So,” the man began. “How was it?”

You thought about it for a second. “Good. Like really good. Like surprisingly good.”

The man clapped his hands. “Well there you have it. Congrats you two.”

You shook your head for a second, scrunching your face in annoyance. “What are you talking about?”

Yoongi came around the counter, finally coming to stand beside you without anything between you two. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

“Easy, Yoongi. Don’t want to scare them off now do you?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes at the man but then nodded his head in understanding. “You don’t like black coffee right? Too bitter or something?”

You nodded. “Yeah, too bitter. I need more sugar or else I just can’t get it down.”

“And I hate mochas. They’re too sweet and you can’t even tell there is coffee in it since it's so overpowered by the sugar, chocolate, and milk.”

“Okay… What does that have to do with me though?”

“But I just liked the mocha. Not just liked, I loved the mocha. And you loved the black coffee.”

“Yeah…” You waited for him to clarify further.

He waved his arm as if urging you to think further, but when you just cocked your head to the side in confusion, he dropped his arm back down to his side. “Seriously?” he asked, exasperated. “I hated my usual coffee and loved your mocha. And you hated your usual mocha and loved my coffee.”

You nodded your head, trying to understand what he was trying to get at. Until it just clicked, your eyes widening instantly, reaching to grab his elbows. “OH MY GOD! We’re soulmates! Oh my god! We switched preferences! We’re soulmates!” You threw your arms around him, pulling him as close to you as you could through your thick winter jacket.

“Took you long enough,” he huffed, his arms reciprocating your grasp.

“Oh my god! I knew I was meant to move here! I have to tell my roommate! But wait—” you pushed him out of your hold.

Yoongi let out a light groan, as he caught himself from stumbling.

You pointed a finger at him accusingly. “You hate mochas, you black coffee supremacist!”

“Seriously?” Yoongi asked you. “That’s your biggest concern now?”

“Well yeah! I mean, I don’t know if my preferences will change back, but if they do, I can’t stay with a soulmate that thinks he’s superior to me because of his coffee preferences!”

Yoongi let out a small laugh, his lips tugging into a smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I think I will never be able to hate mochas after today.”

Even with your finger still pointed at him, you felt your lips pull into a wide smile at the hidden meaning behind his words.

You both jumped at the clearing of a throat behind the two of you. The man had made his way to the front door of the coffee shop with his order in his hand. “Sorry, sorry. Just wanted to let you know that my wife, Maria, had been recording the entire thing in case you needed to call the police.” He nodded towards the other patron who had been at the shop when you and Yoongi had started fighting who was now standing holding the door open as she waited for her husband. “Let me know if you want the video of your first meeting, I’m sure your friends and family would love to see it,” he said between kind-hearted soft laughs, before leaving hand-in-hand with Maria.

“Maybe even our future grandkids,” you teased him happily, taking a step back towards him.

Yoongi just smiled in reply, showing off his perfect teeth to you.

You felt your heart swell.

He took another step towards you, grabbing a hold of your hands by your side. “I would like that.”

You heard the door chime as a customer walked into the coffee shop before their steps halted somewhere behind you.

“Uh, is this a bad time?” The customer asked from behind you.

“Give me a second,” Yoongi replied.

“Alright,” the person cleared their throat. “Just don’t want to be late for work.”

That seemed to jolt you out of your Yoongi admiring stupor. “Shit! I have an interview!” You tightened your hold on his hands before letting go.

By the time Yoongi realized what was going on, you were already halfway out the door.

“I’m going to be so late! I’ll be back later, okay, baby?” You had pushed the door open taking a step out before turning back to him. “I am allowed to come back right? Or am I still exiled from your shop?” You asked with a smile.

“Seriously?” He laughed, shaking his head as he made his way back behind the service counter. “Maybe you’ll just have to try your luck.”

“You’re impossible.” You laughed into your hand, waving your hand at him. “When I come back, if you don’t let me in, I’ll tell all your customers that I almost threw up after drinking your mocha.” You stuck out your tongue at him as he fake gasped, before finally actually leaving the shop.

Well, there's that.

So if you didn't get it, in this case, soulmates have different ways of finding out if they're meant to be in this universe. For Yoongi and Y/n, they met and ended up switching coffee preferences (or maybe even more preferences but the only thing they noticed so far is the coffee). Even though their reactions may seem extra, when you meet your soulmate all your emotions/feelings/everything is meant to be heightened. So they had each other's preferences, but n times stronger. So that's why they loved the other's preference like it was ambrosia, but their own preferences tasted like so bad to them. Y/n found the mocha wayyyy to sweet like Yoongi would usually, and Yoongi found the black coffee wayyyyy too bitter cause Y/n likes her coffee well sweetened and with a lot of stuff to mellow the coffee flavour.

But anyway, yes they're in love.

So yeah, do let me know if you want me to post the rest of these. It will be a slow process, but I would like to do so.

Take care!!

#yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #bts drabbles #yoongi drabble #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts oneshot #bts drabble #soulmate au #coffee shop au #Ev's writing #series: love amour aur pyaar

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blue-and-grey-army · 1 year

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- - C A R A M E L - - 3

3. Espresso

Genre: BTS, Idol AU, poly au, BTS x reader, OT7, OT7 x reader, Idol BTS, Dom BTS, sub reader, angst, fluff, eventual smut

Warnings: BTS x reader, very subby reader, innocent reader, power play, eventual smut, sexual and non sexual domination, a lot of skinship (but like lots) excessive pet names, sexism, anxiety, insecurities, possessive behavior, maybe BTS x BTS etc…

…

“I hope I got everything right…” you mumble to yourself as you walk through the halls of Hybe’s building.

That day, the boys noticed how hazy and soft you had gotten, so after gorging your hand all nicely patched up, decided to stop fuzzing over you…for now. So they started talking business. And you completely believed them when they told you they were in need of a new assistant. Of course they had Sejin and a handful of assistants, but they said they were in need of someone to take care of more personal requests. After meeting you in the café and seeing how well you worked, they thought you would be perfect for the job. They even told you how they had loved your coffee more than any of the other baristas from the little shop from the building!

Of course, you fell right through it.

You were a little skeptical at first, but as soon as they started praising your skills, you couldn’t stop yourself from blushing a little and accepting their deal with a soft smile. It was not your fault!! It was their voices…and the way they would give you camouflaged grounding words that just made your life easier and calmed your anxious brain. If they were so nice all the time, you thought, maybe this job wouldn’t be as bad as you imagined. And it seemed you weren’t getting fired anytime soon, or that’s what they told you when they heard a little of one of your nervous ramblings when they brought out a non-disclosure-agreement and the contract. When you saw the pay, you could only feel even surer about accepting the job.

And here you were. Your first official day.

First you had to go through the front desk to pick up the ID card and pass the boys had asked specially for you. You received a couple of weird looks from the woman on the reception, but you didn’t have time to think about it since your phone chimed on your pocket. They all had asked for your number, since it would be way easier and faster to communicate their requests. So now you had each of their contacts, as well as a couple group chats they had added you too and sent many funny memes and stickers that made you feel more at ease.

You too your phone out to see a message.

Hoseok-nim

Hey, pretty, would you be a peach and bring me an Espresso?

You typed a quick answer, starting to walk towards the small kitchen-type room only a few had access in Hybe. As their new personal assistant, of course you did.

You

Of course, Hoseok-nim. Where should I bring it to you?

Hoseok-nim

I’m in my studio! Hope world 🌞 on the seventeenth floor.

And don’t call me that, sweet thing!! You don’t have to be so formal with us!

Call me Hobi!

You wouldn’t want to be a bad girl and make your sunshine upset, would you, girlie? 🥺

You

Of course not, Hoseok-nim!!

No no! I’m sorry!

I mean, Hobi…

Please don’t get angry :(

Hoseok-nim

That’s much better, Y/nie

And please make one of those nasty drinks Yoongi hyung likes, he’s been on his studio since last night.

You

I’ll be there soon, sir!

I could get used to hearing her call me sir…but that thought stayed in Hoseok’s mind as he sighed.

You move swiftly, preparing the drinks you had been ordered, with a soft blush on your cheeks from Hoseok’s words. Calling him Hobi felt much better, and your absolutely loved it. Even though you weren’t sure if it was appropriate…he said it was alright, didn’t he? So there shouldn’t be a problem.

As soon as the drinks were ready, you put the lids on the plastic cups and started making your way towards the studio. You were still a bit nervous, not used to working with such important and handsome people. Not ever in a million years would you imagine yourself in such a position. The boys had made their biggest effort to make you feel comfortable, but you still needed a bit more time. You made it to the studio with a the vibrant letters “Hope World”

You used your free hand to knock on the door, and you felt a little stupid when you saw a doorbell in the panel for the password. With a sighed, you pressed the little button and the door flew open almost immediately, a smiling Hoseok welcoming you.

“Hello pretty girl, you are fast walker aren’t you?” you smiled shyly to the pet name, and you looked at him through your lashes.

“A bit…I-I've been told I walk quickly when I’m nervous” you admit rubbing your nape, making him coo.

“Aigoo, we can’t have that, can we? Come inside” you were about to protest, not wanting to interrupt his work, but he sent you such an intense look that made you shut your mouth and follow him inside the studio and watch as he sat on the desk to save a file he was working on. “I forgot to give you the password so you wouldn’t have to ring. Sorry about that.”

“No no! Don’t be sorry Hoseok-nim! I understand you wouldn’t want to give such an important information to just anyone! It’s already a lot for you let me come in here and…” You speak as you shake your free hand to articulate, starting another one of your nervous rambling but stopping abruptly.

Hoseok’s chair turned around slowly, very slowly. And he set his eyes on you.

You felt electricity go down your spine and something tighten inside your belly. He was looking at you with a stone gaze, the same one you had seen in a few dance practice videos were one of the meme bees made a mistake or he wasn’t happy with the choreography. One of his hands was holding tightly to the armrest of the chair, and the other was was splayed over his thigh. Dangerously close to his crotch. You removed your gaze immediately when you realized you were staring, but not fast enough for him not to notice. He smirked a bit, but his eyes didn’t soften, raising his chin before speaking.

“What did you just call me?” Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake, but he didn’t even let you even open your mouth before he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Here I was, thinking you were a good girl, seems like I was mistaken, hmm?”

You start to panic, your breathing hitching a bit too often as you look at him with big puppy eyes. You don’t want him to think you are bad! You weren’t bad, you just had a little slip, but it was enough too had your lip trembling. You wanted to be good for him, and for the others. You felt just like the first day you met them in their office, filled with this weird sensation of wanting to do what they say, follow their orders and hear their praises afterwards.

And it was so weird! You barely new them! But somehow, you felt comfortable enough to allow yourself this feelings of wanting to please. To receive their orders.

To give control up.

“No no! S-sir…H-Hobi! H-Hobi!” you can’t help but stutter as your rub your feet together nervously, looking at him with sad regretful eyes “I’m sorry, I-I really sorry. I won’t do it again…I-I’ll listen! I can be good! I promise! I’m sorry” You look at him pitifully, with your lips tucked in a trembling pout.

And he uses most of his self control not to kiss that pretty little pout on your lips and make you repeat his name as sweetly as you had just done for him.

But he didn’t. He got up and walked close to you, fixing a strand of your hair behind your ear and cupping you jaw, tightening his grip a tiny bit when you tried to lower your gaze. His hand was warm, and his slender fingers felt good against your skin.

Your mouth fell a little open, and he took advantage of that and shook your face a little bit, helping to ground you again. Your tense body relaxes and your cheeks blush softly, a tiny happy smile appears on your face as you feel warm taking over your whole body, specially your lower belly, but your smile disappears when you shiver softly as soon as you feel his fingers graze your earlobe, and he can’t help but notice the way your bones vibrate, holding back a whimper.

Oh, now he wants to hear it.

He grazes your earlobe again, using his thumb and index finger to slightly pinch it as the rest of his fingers caress your neck. Goosebumps appear all over your skin and a whimper comes out of your lips, loud and clear. He wishes he had the microphones from the studio recording so he could capture such a sound, as it comes out of you again when he repeats the motion.

“Hmm, you are sensitive, aren’t you?” you can’t do much more than nod tiredly, cuddling a little bit against his grip that remains on your jaw. You were feeling tingly all over your body. “It’s alright, pretty girl. How could I not forgive you when you apologized so prettily? Such a good girl for me…”

You smile, openly cuddling against his hand as he caressed your neck one last time, before letting you. Not without making sure you came back to earth, even though way more calmed. He took his drink from the plastic holder you brought and put it back in your hand with Yoongi’s order.

“Even though I would love to have you here, I need to get back to work, and I’m sure hyung could use the distraction, so why don’t you act the treat and take this to him before the ice melts?” he smirked as you nodded obediently, a happy blush decorating your cheeks.

“Yes, Hobi” you flashed a smile at him as you waved softly, and he gave a small encouraging tap on your lower back (a tiny bit lower than he should have, but no one had to notice that)

“Oh, and the password from here is 940218, so come back whenever you want, peach. And don’t say again you are ‘just anyone’, because I assure you, you are not”

_________

Taglist

@thebisexualonesworld @openup-yourmind @jewishmommy @sld88 @djodjom1 @whipwhoops

If your username is in red it’s because I can’t tag you however much I try! I’m sorry! Try answering this post again and I will try again or do my best to solve it

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drdemonprince · 10 months

Note

How do you feel about “weaponized incompetence”

I see a lot of people talking about it, and I know it can definitely be a thing that people do purposefully, but so many things that fall under the umbrella seem like things that some neurodivergent people tend to struggle with.

I don't think a person needs to be consciously or intentionally weaponizing incompetence in order to leverage it for their benefit. Due to forces like systemic sexism, sometimes a weaponized incompetence dynamic plays out without anybody meaning it to.

Now of course, weaponized incompetence is absolutely a dynamic that some people deliberately create (famously, a husband or boyfriend knowingly washing the dishes poorly so his partner never asks him to do it again), but more often than not, it's the byproduct of capitalist overwork and alienation meeting sexist norms that play out on an intuitive level rather than some malicious, evil plan.

My ex-partner absolutely benefitted from weaponized incompetence; he was also almost certainly an undiagnosed ADHDer who was struggling, and not a bad guy. From my perspective, it didn't matter. I still ended up having to pay the bills, sign us up for all the utilities, figure out a new place to live three different times when our rent went up, hire the movers, remind him to get a new ID when his old one was expired and we had a flight coming up, find him a dentist when his tooth was aching, help him write emails for his work when he first got a job, ask him to clean things rather than being able to trust he would contribute, make all the decisions regarding decluttering the house, take care of our pet, etc etc etc.

He deserved more help than he ever got, as a (very likely) disabled person living under capitalism. But I also covered him and shouldered his life burdens in a way that made me miserable and offloaded a lot of his responsibilities onto me. It drove me nuts and made me dysphoric to admit it, but a large part of how we wound up in that dynamic was systemic sexism, because he was a cishet man and I wasn't.

All that said, and my considerable real-life biases having been put on the table, I do think it's the case that many disabled people are unfairly accused of 'weaponizing incompetence' when all that they've done is express a limitation as clearly as they possibly could, which ought to be a good thing. There is nothing wrong or manipulative with asking for help, or for articulating what you are and are not capable of as honestly as you can. (And this honest communication piece was absent in the relationship I am describing; he wouldn't even acknowledge that he wasn't and could not contribute to maintaining a life together in any practical way. When I tried to name that dynamic, he would shut down, walk away, say things were going to change without any plan for how that might happen, etc).

In much the same way that an excited Autistic person who is infodumping or communicating super clearly in order to be helpful can be unfairly branded a "mansplainer", lots of disabled people are seen unfairly as manipulative, lying about their limitations, taking advantage of other people, lazy, and weaponizing incompetence.

The trope of the fake disabled person who is just gaming the system cuts deep. It's pervasive and it's responsible for a lot of social problems that disabled people face, from impossibly difficult benefits applications programs, to cruel teachers who refuse to provide the accommodations to which their students are entitled, to abusive and neglectful partners who fail to meet their disabled loved one's needs. Arguably I even was one of those partners, even if I did have genuine reasons for grievance and very real disabilities of my own.

The reality is that the lines between all these things can be blurred, as a person's intent and their impact can be wildly different. people who are doing their best can still leverage sexism and leave a partner feeling taken advantage of. And a partner who feels taken advantage of can have real reasons for feeling that way and can also still be ableist, or even cruel and unfair to their disabled loved one. it's tough.

Thanks for the great question, it is one I think about a lot for obvious reasons.

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anxiouslyeccentric · 27 days

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@three-dee-ess i figure im a lil late to the party but it'd be worng to not contribute my humble pile

From left to right top to bottom:

The blue 3DS XL belonged to my older brother, who let me use it to play my copy of Pokémon Y until our parents eventually bought me my own 2DS, the one all the way to the far right with its circle pad lovingly rubbed off XD. The XL 3DS for a few years was unplayable since my big brother had dropped it off of a desk while it was plugged in, damaging the charge port until i eventually found a place that could fix it, a place id eventually end up working at myself XD.

The orange new 2ds right below it was also my big brother's, this the replacement he'd bought and used after his first 3ds had its charge port damaged. From a few years stuffed in and out of tight pants pockers, the shell of the console became bent, and it had difficulty reading games until i ended up fixing the issue myself a few months after he decided to part with it.

The Special edition Pikachu 3DS was a Mercari find years ago when i was at my first job making bookoo money with no bills to pay, and decided 200 was a great price for Pikachu and him cheeks. Love this system, even though if you put it in sleep mode and carry it around for more than a few hours, it has an error and makes you turn off the system, so not a Walking-around-as-a-tourist 3DS unfortunately, but other than that and a minor chip in the shell, works perfect!

The blue base model is actually a modded japanese base model with a capture card installed! Ive yet to have time to properly use it in any kind of streaming capacity, but it's still with the box and has everything from the modder! I paid a pretty penny for it a few years back, but im not sure it would pull the same value today. Who knows!

The orange and white new 2ds with the target exclusive pikachu hard shell was a christmas gift from back in highschool. I spent many an off hour in my debate class's script room hunting shinys and playing pokemon Amie in my copy of Alpha sapphire for hours on end. Great times! It's lovingly adorned with stickers, and remains my most decorated 3ds.

And lastly, but certainly not least, my new 3ds with a healthy collection of kisekai plates. This was actually a 20th Anniversary pokemon red and blue edition that had its original box, inserts AND plates included with it! Paid about the same for the 3ds with the capture card, but this one had absolutely increased in price since my purchasing. The other plates id come across separately, all during my time with my first job. Generally i prefer having the 151 pokemon colored spites plates that are on it now, or the Blue Gingam Check plates, and i even purchased the matching theme for the system before the E-shop closed, so they match! This system is my current "main one" and has every pokemon virtual console software downloaded onto it pre eshop closure, and i just recently finally modded it for pretendo and Netpass, both of which work wonderfully!

Im really hoping pretendo can get the Pokémon chat Player Search System up and running eventually for Pokémon X, Y, omega ruby and alpha sapphire, since a bulk of my time with the 3ds was spent battling and wonder trading to my heart's content. I can only hope.

Currently im playing a lot of Tomodachii life, a game i picked up from my job last christmas as a gift to myself, and fantasy life! Both heavy hitters I'd recommend to anyone with a 3DS! But yea, buy a 3ds for a reasonable price, and mod that sucker! Use Net pass and play all the games you want! All emulation is ethical ethical emulation.

#pokemon #gamecube #good times #nintendo 3ds #nintendo switch #pokemon gamecube #3ds #nintendo #nintendo 3ds xl #new nintendo 3ds #new nintendo 3ds xl

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haecien · 9 months

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What tropes i would absolutely kill to see w/ svt members

(Psst... if anyone sees this and decides to write svt with these tropes @ me please omg)

-------------------------------------------------------

Academic rivals - S.coups🍒 ; IVE SEEN @/woozvc NEW AU WITH CHEOL AND ITS MAKES ME FEEL SO MANY THINGS.

He would get so competitive i love him, he would also deff tease you a lot when you'd get a lower score than him

Academic rivals or Trouble maker x Goody to-shoes - Jeonghan👼; Same reason as s.coups for the academic rivals:D idk why... if they ever fucking teased me id be giggling

IVE WRITEN THE LAST TROPE AND OH MY GODDDD, jeonghan would be such a flirt and mixed with teasing??? GOD IM ON THE FLOORR

Soulmates (bonus points if you're soulmates even in pass lives) - Joshua🦌; No matter what, you'll always find yourself back to him. He is the only one fitted for you

BRO. if you both got separated since you both got reborn, he will still find you. He loves you too much that he can't seem to let you go

Actor x fan - Jun😼 ; majority of the times this is very toxic, but no reason like id imagine maybe either you would be apart of the film crew or makeup team, but you were such a big fan of him ever since you watched one drama of him

He would admire how nice you were to him, you never shouted or did anything to make him upset. You were very soft towards him🤭

Workplace love - Hoshi🐯 ; No reason. Jst hear me out! He deff found u as the cool co-worker he could always rely on. Bonus points if its a love at first sight type too🤭🤭

Or maybe it would be a business proposal type of romance

Love at first sight - Wonwoo🐱 ; God i wanna see wonwoo being so whiped after seeing you for even just a glance

He would stand there FROZEN because he was so shocked over how beautiful you were to him.

70's/60's era - Woozi🍚; I jst wanna see woozi in a white long-sleeved shirt with his sleeves rolled back with slick black pants, bonus points if he's also wearing suspenders!!!😭🤭🤭😭🤭😭🤭

Imagine jihoon as a detective, GOD HAWKVEJE he'd be real serious about his job, I feel like suddenly you would be caught up in a case that he needs to investigate. Then you guys become closer in the process😭

Admiring from a far - Minghao🐸; its not you whos admiring him, ITS MINGHAO ADMIRING YOU.🤭🤭

People always wondered who was that person in his paintings? Yeah its you, he saw that you were perfect for being his muse. But how could be possibly contact you? He's too shy for that, he'd constantly paint and paint you, he never rushed it. His strokes were always so light, it made the painting even more beautiful then it is.

At that point minghao had already memorized every little detail about you

I went a lil overboard with hao

Popular kid x Quiet kid - Mingyu🐶; LIKE. He'd literally fucking be the only one who ever payed attention to you. No one could notice you were in the room yet mingyu was the only one who ever felt your presence

Sunshine x Grumpy (basically opposites attract) - Dokyeom🌞 ; Ugh I need a sunshine Dk in my life. He'd be such an energy boost to a very grumpy reader:((

" Whats wrong? Cheer up!! " and he'd endlessly hug you🥺 JAKSJDJIDHD he is an quality time and physically touch person:( acts of service & gift giving too!

Only child x Multiple siblings - Seungkwan🍊;

... hear me out, not sure if kwan has siblings but he's gnna be the one with the multiple siblings, or maybe its an au where svt are his siblings. But non the less kwan would not hesitate to introduce you to his multiple siblings. You're not used to this but this adds on to the warm feeling seungkwan has

Oh my god , that would be comforting and chaotic as hell

Confused x Hyper - Vernon🐢; he deff wouldn't understand your hype about something, but he's trying to😭😭

" VERNON!!! look at this new - ********* " whatever is going through his head is literally a loading screen " uh huh.... " hes confused but he's here for it

Full of themselves x "Get a reality check" - Dino🦦 ; title sounds obnoxious BUT HEAR ME OUT.

Like, the reader would always complement themselves yk "bro everyone wants me forreal! "

And dino is like " Im the only person WHO wanted you. "

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Cien rambles

Guys heuhahwhekshsjhejevrjdbdj PLEASE IF ANY OF U GUYS DO MAKE SMTHING LIKE THIS @ ME OMFGG

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lifmera · 3 months

Note

hazbin/helluva (one for each) matchup for an acearospec he/they/it with massive audhd swag (masc leaning attraction ways)

i love art and fiction, both as the audience and artist/author,

especially collaborative storytelling like roleplay or improv!!!!

and i love to use my artistic skills to make things for others.. or myself. alot of the time just myself. theres probably a reason im called an egotist

im very creative imaginative or whatever and daydreaming isnt an oddity. or just getting stuck in my head re-narrating the same idea over and over.

im known to have a large vocabulary but if you ask me what any of the words mean i cant tell you (i know im using them right but i learn all my words via inferencing rather than precise definition)

hidden role games are my bread and butter (think mafia,,, or among us)

in the past i made for a very convincing serial killer. take that how you will

i can also get well enough into character to genuinely provoke tears in an acting scenario. though im a quick crier regardless so that doesnt say much

I'm very over the top "fashion"-wise wearing bright garish eccentric colours.

this overbearingly true to my selfness extends to basically every facet of my being which is only balanced out by how god damn low energy i am (chronic pain ass mfer)

I'm probably cold blooded, put me under a heatlamp idk

id say that i bite but im too germophobic for that shit

thank you :]

HEY HEY!!

I didn’t pair you up w Velvette… only cus i wasn’t sure if you were gay or just prefer men!

I’ve decided to pair you with…. BLITZØ & VOX

He’d probably force you to do some pony role play with him. Please do it- he just loves his ponies :(

ALSO DRAW HIM PONIES!! OR TEACH HIM?? He had to pay so much for art classes, just for him to still suck…

He want’s to hear your thoughts most of the time. He’s like.. “whats going on inside their head rn…?”

He’d think you are a little like Stolas using big words- but he’d be impressed. He’d probably ask you to help him increase his vocabulary so he can actually sound more intimidating and boss like.

Serial killer? Join the IMPS :) they only have like 3 other people anyways.

Well enough character?? Lure in the clients like Loona did??? SIGN HIM UP!!! He’s already offering you a job.

Roleplay…. Games? He’d probably ask wtf is that, but then enjoy it sm. Probably asks moxxie and millie to play in their free time.

He’d be surprised you are wearing bright colors!! Usually people in hell wear all red, black, white and pink.

He’s definitely think you’d get along with Loona, so he was like “perfect lover?!!? Esp if they might become close to my daughter?!?”

Ok, VOX time!!

If you are able to Improv… it’d be perfect… you can help him manipulate people…

Especially being able to cry on spot??! If you can act he’d probably bring you everywhere- and you’d join the face of the company.

He’d need someone with a creative imagination to help him come up with new/more ideas for vox tech. Eventually he might run out.

Your large vocabulary would also help him out a ton. You can help write scripts for him, and act them out that’ll make everything sound WAYYY convincing!

Serial Killer? Join the Vees x2!!! They need someone, esp against Alastor.

Fashion? Thank god! You’d get along with Velvette!!! And he wouldn’t have to worry about you not getting accepted into the Vee’s.

Hope this was okay!

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his-tamine · 6 months

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life update :3 (a little vent-y)

sooo, been over 200 days since the house caught fire and we had to move. obviously, a lot of stuff's been happening. can't go into deep details for fear of someone I don't want to find this, finding this, but I'll say this much: FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I've very rarely mentioned family on here (for obvious reasons - this account is NOT made for that lol) but here goes. tw for pretty heavy topics: mentions of abuse, father issues, health issues, transphobia & financial issues. I turned 18 Feb 21st, literally just almost 2 months before the damn house caught fire. Meanwhile, my brother's still a minor. MEANING, I narrowly escaped the custody battle my mom & dad are in. But unfortunately, he's still stuck in the middle of it. :( My pops was not really the nicest person to me when I was a kid -

whooping my ass whenever I did anything wrong, no matter how minor the offense was.

Telling me that he loved God more than he loved me, because "You're God's gift to me. God is the one who gave you to me in the first place," when I was four.

Telling me that if I didn't start being ok with receiving physical affection from family - which he knew made me uncomfortable - I was "going to grow up to be a S3R1AL K1LL3R" (yes he said that.)

Telling me that "God doesn't make mistakes," and that he "made me into a beautiful young woman for a reason" after I came out to him personally at 14 - big mistake 0/10 stars, would never do again. You get the idea. And those are the tame examples I could think of. So, I finally cut him off. As soon as my mom, brother, & I were in our new place, I blocked his number and haven't talked to him since. I was sick of him not respecting my boundaries, and repeatedly demonstrating that he thought of me as nothing more than a possession. Tired of him making me feel crazy all the time too. But now he's fucking with my mom & brother. Intentionally not paying child support till the last minute possible - & then making it in as small of payments at a time as he possibly can (yes he can afford it btw.) Trying to force my brother to go over to his place, even when my brother does NOT want to - which has begun giving my brother psychological issues & issues with school, mirroring the ones I used to struggle with bc of that bastard. My mom is juggling all sorts of things, & I really at least wanna try to help financially by getting a job, but I can't yet because: she says that I'm only 18, & shouldn't have to get a job to help out (I disagree.) I don't have an ID bc she wants me to wait on my legal name change - which costs a pretty decent chunk of change - reason is bc she "wants me to have as easy an early adulthood life as possible" (love her.) AND, I haven't actually graduated - No, I dipped in 11th bc school was hell (not exaggerating,) & instead just decided to pursue a GED, that I haven't been able to work towards bc of the shit show that is life in midwestern america. So I've been very depressed, exhausted, & hopeless. The least I can do is clean up our house while she's at work, & get this - some days I don't even have the physical energy to do THAT! I do not know what the hell is wrong with my body currently, but it absolutely sucks. & I'm really tired of just taking up space all the time. She's dealing with health issues too, & I'm always worried ab her. Idk what the hell to do, but something's gotta give. Everybody needs a fucking break. I keep trying to shoo away all the dark thoughts, push myself as often as possible, & keep my fingers crossed, but jfc... Sorry just needed to yell into the void for a sec. I'll live, I'm sure - I've survived worse. Sometimes things just suck. But I like to think that someday they won't. :,)

#spiidervent #not snz #venting :3 #feel free to ignore this if you dont wanna hear me bitch and moan

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jsprnt · 9 months

Text

Healing Hearts PT.2 | Virgil van Dijk

Would a fresh start bring you more than just a new job?

WC: 2.892

Summary: Y/N L/N is a very skilled and praised physiotherapist. A certain event pushing her for a fresh start, as a physiotherapist for Liverpool FC. One question always being in the back of her mind: Will she be able to let go of her past and allow herself to experience new things?

I am awoken by the blaring sound of my alarm. Why do I always have to wake up when my bed gets so comfy? I groan, fighting the urge to snooze my alarm, checking the time while at it. It's six now, two hours to make this face look like it has seen more than four hours of sleep.

I check my messages before washing up. Walking out to the bathroom to put on my outfit. Some 90's style jeans and a body hugging cropped shirt. Nothing too much, I'll have to wear my scrubs anyway. I make my bed and do some breathing exercises to calm my nerves, meeting new people was still a big challenge for me. I finish eating breakfast and turn on the coffee machine for a nice frothy cup of coffee. Admiring the view behind my window as I sip the last bit of my coffee. The city is not entirely up yet, people still enjoying their last minutes of sleep before going to work or school.

Walking back to my room for the best part of my morning, doing my make up! I apply my base carefully. First day means first impressions, I can't go overboard, not yet. I curl my long lashes, coating them with mascara. Lining my lips with brown liner, some lip balm on top for a subtle look. I take out my jewelry box, grabbing my usual gold necklace. It was custom made, adorning my name, a graduation gift from my mom. I look into the mirror, humming a song in satisfaction as I do my hair. I grab my bag, stuffing it with things I might need throughout the day. Finally, putting on my Nike dunks and leaving my house.

I walk downstairs to my car. Thankfully my dad had arranged for it to be imported from Spain a couple weeks ago, when I accepted this job. My dad had a thing for paying for my things, maybe it was to make up for our strained relationship or something. Either way, I wasn't going to refuse his help, it benefited us both anyways. He'd feel like a present father, and I'd feel like he cared.

I jump into my car, the dashboard lighting up. I run my hands around the steering wheel for some comfort before I hit the road. The leather soft as I trace the Mercedes logo, I loved this baby. My G-class never failed to make me feel like the bad bitch I am. I told you working hard and spending hard had its perks. I turn on the navigation system, hoping it would take me straight to the training grounds without any issues.

I turn on some music, trying to drown out my nerves and thoughts. It was never too early for some Drake. I try to pay special attention to my surroundings, since the more I memorize, the faster I can get used to this route. My navigation system pings as it tells me I've arrived. I scan my surroundings, being greeted by a security post. I drive up to it, turning my music off and rolling my window down.

"Good morning, I'm here for the new physiotherapist job." I flash the security guard a smile, he is an older man, his hair graying slightly. I might as well get friendly since I'll be here almost everyday from today onwards. "Morning to you as well. Could you some show me some sort of identification, please?." I can't help but stare at the man, his scoucer accent making it hard for me to understand right away, I should get used to it quickly. I nod quickly pulling my ID from my wallet. He looks at it, scanning through a list, probably a list of staff? His eyes light up as he, I presume sees my name on the list. "Welcome, Dr. l/n, I'll call up the head coach so he can greet you at the door." He gives me a kind smile, handing me my ID back. "Thank you, I appreciate it." I shove my ID back into my wallet, driving into the training center parking lot as the gates open for me. I park, collecting my bag as I jump out of my car. Though, not before fixing my hair and make up.

I take in my surroundings, so this is what I'll be partially calling home now. I notice some other, what I presume to be staff walk into the training center. I walk in as well, immediately being greeted by the huge Liverpool FC emblem. I hold onto my bag tightly, trying to contain my nerves.

I look to my right, the reception. The woman behind the desk looks up, flashing me a smile as I go up to her, sitting down on the chair in front of her desk.

"Hi, I'm y/n l/n. I'm here for the physiotherapist job." She stares at me for a moment, before typing something on the computer. "Nice to meet you! I'm Clara, welcome to our family. I'll call down our head physio, just a second honey.”

Her response warms my heart as I nod. So far, I think I'll feel quite comfortable here. She picks up the phone, though her expression changes into one of surprise as she looks behind me, over my shoulder. "Oh, he is here already."

My eyes follow hers, being greeted by a man, around his 50's. He walks up to me, extending his hand to me. "Welcome Dr. l/n. I've heard a lot about you, nice to finally see the woman being so highly spoken of by my colleagues." I smile and grab his hand in a firm handshake. "It's an honor to finally meet you, Dr. Woods."

He chuckles, before letting go of my hand. "Let's talk more inside, the boss wants to meet you as well." I turn back towards Clara, mumbling a quick thank you to her, before following Dr. Woods inside the training center. I glance around, it’s is even bigger in real life. I had watched some YouTube video's of the club just to prepare and calm my anxiety, but seeing it in real life was very different. We stop in front of an office, the label reading 'Manager'. I raise my eyebrows in surprise. I'd already be meeting THE Klopp. I rub my hands together trying to get rid of that anxious feeling.

Dr. Woods knocks on the door loudly, the door is opened a couple of seconds later, revealing Klopp.

"Hey, I'm here to introduce our new physiotherapist." The doctor informs. Klopp looks at me, giving me one of his famous smiles. "Right of course, come in." He opens the door wider, we both walk in. He ushers us to sit down on his red sofa's. He sticks out his hand, we shake hands as he introduces himself, with that all too well known German accent. "It's always nice to greet new members of our big family. Welcome, I'm Jürgen Klopp." I introduce myself as well, his eyes light up in recognition as I tell him my name. "I've heard very great things about you Dr. l/n. I'm very happy to see you here."

"No it's an honor for me, this club is amazing and I'm happy to contribute to the team." I reply, my worries and nerves had been washed away just like- that. I just know that this was one of the best decisions I've ever made.

We start chatting about how I've adjusted to living here, my education and my experience before they start asking different questions.

"So that means you speak how many languages?"

Dr. Woods asks curiously.

"Well my native tongues would be Dutch since I was born and raised in The Netherlands and Turkish, since I'm half Turkish. I'm also fluent in English as you can hear." We chuckle. "Though I do speak some Spanish and Catalan since I worked at FC Barcelona for two years, as you know."

"Great so you'll have no problem with speaking to the players huh? Especially our very loved Dutch players." We laugh at Klopps comment. I secretly hope that too.

Our conversation comes to an end as Klopp suggests I meet the players. He checks his watch, before looking at me. "Players will come in any moment now. They'll start with warming up." Dr. Woods chimes in. "It will be a recovery day since the team played a match yesterday as you may have followed."

Oh yeah I did. I watched it just so I could take notes on the players, the draw at the end was kind of disappointing. Though, it was better than losing.

"Right, I did watch it. Just to study a little before I do see the team play in real life."

"You're impressive Doctor, doing homework before even starting to work." Klopp says. "Oh it's nothing really, just prepares me for what I might encounter as I start working here." I dismiss.

We stand up after a short while, Dr. Woods taking me to put on my scrubs. I mentally pray they have pink ones, both of my former clubs did have them. He walks up to a machine, telling me exactly how the scrub dispenser worked. I nod, pressing some buttons before choosing my size. The scrubs are a- dark red? Well, at least they are part of the club colors. Dr. Woods leads me to the woman's staff changing room. I walk and change quickly putting my hair up in a claw clip.

I walk out of the room after putting my stuff in my locker, and installing a code on it. "I'm ready."

I tell him, he looks at my scrubs for a second. "Red looks great on you Dr. l/n, part of the family already." We chuckle before he leads me to the gym.

A sudden wave of nervousness hits me. I had known that the players were very friendly, still I couldn't help but feel like an unsure inexperienced intern again. We walk into the gym, it's big with plenty of space for calisthenic training like, push-ups and burpees. I look around seeing some the worlds best star players. I've worked some of the best football players like Lewandowski and Frenkie de Jong, but this still felt super insane.

I notice Klopp walking in as he calls for the players to gather around to introduce me. I glance around, they all give me a kind smile as Klopp tells them I'll be their new physiotherapist starting this new season, and of course he couldn't help but mention I'm Dutch. "Nice to meet everyone, I look forward to working with you all." I give them a smile, my dimples on full display. Suddenly, one of the players walks up to me, I immediately recognize him, who wouldn't? It's the caption of the team, well of his national team too. Virgil towers over me, sticking out his hand, his tall frame couldn't be compared to what you see on TV or the pitch. "Welcome to our team y/n, or should I call you doctor." He flashes me a beautiful smile, making me shake his hand and smile in respons. "Hi, y/n is fine, it's good to be here." Other players come to greet me as well, not to forget Robertson, who has to crack a joke about another Dutch person joining the club. "You'd think it was planned huh." We laugh and chat for a bit before Klopp redirects the attention back to him.

"Alright everyone, it's recovery day so take it easy and tell our doctors if something's up as they assist you."

Dr. Woods turns to me, telling me to follow his lead as I slowly start getting the gist of how everything works here. I nod at him, watching as he talks to the players about any soreness they're experiencing.

The day progress quickly as lunch time hits, we walk into the canteen. Seems like players and staff eat at the same time just like in Barcelona.

I walk through the the buffet as I'm greeted by Gakpo.

"Dus je bent echt Nederlands?" (So you're actually Dutch?) he asks in Dutch, full of curiosity. "Natuurlijk, geboren en getogen. Net als jij." (Of course born and raised. Just like you.)

He gives me a cute smile before we continue speaking in Dutch as we fill up our plates with healthy and delicious food.

He invites me to sit with the team. I glance at him wondering if it is a good idea. Well I did sit with the players at Barca too. "Are you sure?" I ask. "Yeah, look around players sit with staff at every table." I take a glance around, he was right staff and players were sitting together at every table. Chatting and laughing together. "Okay then, I'll sit with you guys."

He leads me to a table, already occupied by Trent, Virgil, Joel, Andrew and new star transfer Dominik Szoboszlai. "Doctor, very nice of you to sit with us." Virgil chimes in. "Well I couldn't refuse when Cody offered, we're practically already family based on the fact that we're Dutch hm." The table erupts in laughter, as we glance at Cody. "Of course the Dutch lad steals the doctor before we get to know her." Trent teases, his Scouse accent thick. "Where did you work before joining us?" Robbo asks, shoving a spoonful food into his mouth. Everyone at the table turns to me for my answer.

I clear my throat before answering. "I first interned at Ajax, I got a three year contact there after graduating. Then I got offered a position at Barcelona, worked there for two years." They nod in acknowledgement. Before Cody mentions something. "Oh you're the famous pretty doctor?!" I stare at him confused. "What do you mean?" "Well the national team players used to always talk about a pretty doctor working at Ajax." I raise a brow at his words, glancing at Virgil to confirm, since he also is apart of the national team. "Can't lie Doctor, they did talk about a pretty Doctor." I give them an impressed look. "I guess that would be me?" I chuckle.

We chat some more as everyone chimes in, though some of their faces turning confused. "Wait how old are you then?" One of them asks. "Oh I'm twenty-five." I reply. "Wow, you're pretty impressive for someone so young." Joel says. I thank him as we all continue eating and chatting in between bites.

Recovery training had gone by fast. I had gotten much more familiar with team and how they operate. Klopp dismisses everyone, as we all walk back into our designated changing rooms. Though, I'm quickly stopped by Dr. Woods. He tells me he'll make sure someone adds me to the staff group chat, as well as the group chat the entire club is in. We then bid each other goodbye as I enter the female staff changing room. I take a minute to sit down and to take it all in, that really just happend huh.

I change quickly putting my outfit back on and discarding my scrubs into the laundry basket. I do a quick make up refresh and hair fix before I grab my bag and take out my car keys. I walk through the hallways slowly, looking around for things I might have not seen yet. I’m totally in my own world before I hear my name being called. I turn around, I'm greeted by both Trent and Dominik, seems like they had been getting along nicely since Dominik had transferred here.

"Are you going out?" The new star asks. "Yeah, you guys aren't?" I lift a brow at them. I can see small smirks on their faces, they look like schoolboys hiding something. "Oh yes, we're leaving just now." We chat a little before we walk outside, saying goodbye to Clara at the reception. I notice other cars had parked right next to mine. "Bye doctor, we'll see ya tomorrow, right?" The Scoucer says. I nod "See you guys!" They wave before they both get into their respective cars.

I unlock my car, climbing in before closing the door. I place my bag onto the passengers seat, leaning back for a second. First day: survived.

Sadly, my peace is interrupted by a loud car horn. I raise my head and lower my window, it's the car next to me? I squint, it's an English car so I can see who it is from my seat. The person lowers down his windows as well. It's Virgil?

"What's wrong?" I half shout, so he can hear me through the loud engine of his car. "Nothing just wanted your attention." I chuckle, man these football players never got tired of teasing people. I roll my eyes playfully, before starting my car. I wave at him, before driving my car out of the parking slot.

I get home rather quickly, my speakers playing my favorite songs loudly. I enter my house, feeling fulfilled. I throw myself on my couch after washing up. I reflect on the day, the players and staff were amazingly kind. Though, that small interaction with Trent and Dominik was weird, why were they so smirky?

#virgil van dijk fanfiction #Virgil van Dijk #Virgilvandijk #Liverpoolfc #Van dijk #Virgilvandijkimagines #Football #Football fanfic #Football imagines #Liverpool fanfic #Liverpoolimagines #Virgil x reader #Virgil van dijk x reader

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elijahlittle · 1 year

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I have been scouring this fucking app for Julian fics, never really occurred to I can just request some lol.

So yeah, if you're up for it I've got a little plot/trope set up that'd id love to see. Outsider(fem)reader/julian.

Something along the lines of a reader moving into the park from the southern us, new to Canada and parks in general. As an outsider, Julian expected you to be trouble or judgemental, so he acts like a dick to you at first. Later on, he starts to see instead how kind you are to everyone, understanding and totally up for doing ppl favors even when there's nothing for you in the end. This makes him feel real guilty for bein an ass to you, and also makes him start to feel other things towards u.. Take the fic in whatever direction you'd I wanna see u work ur magic

( + no pressure 2 write it ofc!!)

pairing: julian/fem!reader fandom: trailer park boys tags: smut (cis man/cis woman), fluff, a bit of angst, idk this is one of my more normal ones, heavy plot some porn (i kind of felt more plot focused with this one), julian is kind of hung (he gives me big dick energy) author's note: i'm much more of a ricky kinda guy myself but when i got this request, i got really fucking excited. i loved the idea. i will say, this fic isn't structured traditionally. it's very dialogue heavy and kind of leaves some things up to the imagination. i wanted to establish relationships between the reader and other people in the park as well as share some of julian's private conversations about her. i'm really proud of the way this has turned out, though i'm sorry if it's not the interpretation you might have been hoping for (i'm a little insecure about the way i interpret storylines). i hope you like it, though. i worked hard on it and i'm pretty sure it's the longest julian/reader fic currently on the internet so i'm going to take that fucking win rn. also, i actually live in the southern united states. (fun fact: i'm looking to move because i'm a trans man and life here is kind of ass if you're trans), so i gave the reader a backstory that's kind of unique to what a woman in 1999-2000 would have gone through. i'm not satisfied with the ending though, i'm sorry if this fic is a little lackluster, but we can only go up from here i guess. text blocking this shit was a fucking BITCH. word count: 6,442

everything i've ever let go of has claw marks on it.

The cultural climate of Sunnyvale Trailer Park wasn't exactly the most inviting. There were people who lived in the park and then there was everyone else. For the most part, newcomers never lasted more than a few weeks. The bottle kids drove away the weakest among them, but if those kids weren't effective usually Ricky's antics drove away the remaining lot. Sure, there were a few people here and there who moved in quietly, but those were usually the kind of people that minded their own business because lot rent was low enough for them to just ignore Lahey.

But in general, new people were not welcome. Especially know-it-all hipsters trying to live the simple life by casting away their possessions in an expensive storage unit and downsizing to a more humble trailer. Those were the kinds of guys that gave up quickly. Plus, new people threatened the balance of park politics. For the most part, Julian was well-liked and well-respected among the others due to his caring nature and dedication to his loved ones. He protected his own. And if there was one thing Julian didn't like, it was newcomers coming into the park without already knowing someone in it.

"Barb, I really think you should reconsider letting this girl in. I mean, you don't even know who she is."

"Julian, this is a business, not a family estate. Her credit was just below decent, she has an okay-paying job, and paid three months of rent in advance. From a business perspective, she seems like she'll be a reliable tenant. It's a good thing you've grown close with your community, but you have to remember at the end of the day, this trailer park is here to make money. Whatever fit of paranoia you're suffering through, deal with it on your own time. Next time you come here with a complaint, make sure it's a business one."

And just like that, Barb had shooed Julian off. What more could he say to that? Well, he had a lot more to say to that but she didn't want to listen. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, she only guided him further to the door. If Julian thought he was the one who ran this trailer park, he had another thing coming for him that's what. This dump needed more reliable tenants - normal folks who didn't like to get into trouble. Barb was trying to turn the park's image around.

"Julian, I just don't understand why you're so against this lady stayin' here. You know I'm no fan of newcomers myself, but she's been mindin' her own. She actually keeps her yard clean, which is pretty fuckin' nice if you ask me. It's nice to pass a yard that doesn't have a million fuckin' pieces of trash thrown all over the front. She even has one of those pink fuckin' yard flamingos in her yard. It's so bright and colorful. There ain't nothin' wrong with a little bit of color, Julian. Ain't nothin' wrong with a little bit of change."

"Are you even listening to yourself talk Bubbles? Can you hear what you're saying? You're saying change for this park is good. Who knows what she believes in. She might hate dope growers, she may be workin' with Lahey, she could get nosy and bust us for dope and you know Ricky and I are growin' a lot of dope -"

"- I know, I've seen that big fuckin' setup you got in that fuckin' trailer in that shitty little lot -"

"- so then Bubbles you should know that new people aren't good. We can't trust new people, especially not now. Especially not when we're so close to selling them to those prison guards and retiring. A stranger could compromise the whole thing. Remember those bible scammers that came through here? I've learned my lesson since then and I'm not tryna repeat old mistakes."

"Jesus Murphy Julian, you need to calm down. Those fuckin' assholes were obviously scammers, it's not like this lady is goin' door to door scammin' people."

"Sure maybe she's not taking advanced orders on bibles Bubbles, but she is goin' in and out of everyone's house doin' favors for them. Why does she need to see the inside of everyone's house? Do you think she's lookin' for something?"

"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe she's just a nice person doin' a nice thing? Nice people exist. You've been dealin' with dope and crime and jail so much that it's like you forgot how to trust someone. All you think about is dope and how you're going to protect it from everyone else."

"You're only defendin' her because she brings you boxes of canned cat foods for your cats. She's buyin' you off and you don't even know it."

"So what if she's helpin' me take care of my kitties? My kitties are the most important things to me and unlike you, she fuckin' knows that. If someone's offering to help take care of my precious little kitties, who the fuck am I to say no?"

"Bubbles, look -"

"No, no, nevermind." Bubbles tucks a gray cat further into his arms, his posture becoming more rigid. It's clear that he's done with the conversation, no longer interested in trying to hammer commonsense into Julian's brain. He couldn't see past his own paranoia and it was infuriating. In Julian's mind, everyone in the world was out to get him - even the nice lady across the street who helped his friend support his kitties. "You just don't get it, Julian. I'm goin' back home, come talk to me when you get it."

Julian was still convinced he was right about this girl. If the bottle kids didn't run you out, he'd just take matters into his own hands. He didn't care whether or not Bubbles helped. Julian was a man of many connections, and even if he couldn't find someone else to get the job done he had no qualms with taking care of the situation himself.

"I mean, if you think that lady's dangerous then you know I'm gonna follow you Julian 'cause you got the brains and stuff behind the projector, but I just gotta let you know I'm still workin' on my grade ten so whatever idea you have you got to make sure it's not illegal 'cause I can't go back to jail, not right before Trinity's birthday. That means we can't do any property damage or breaking and entering or any shit like that."

"I promise you Ricky we're not gonna go back to jail, we're just gonna annoy the shit out of her until she leaves. I was thinkin' maybe you and Cory and Trevor could host like a really loud party across the street tomorrow night, you know - something to keep her awake. If we get a noise complaint, we'll just shut it down, but then once the cops leave we'll start it back up again. We'll do this for a few nights until she finally decides to move out."

"That's a pretty fucking good idea, that's smart. Plus, since it's a party we can get drunk and high."

It's 2 a.m. and that fucking party is still going. There were several times you considered calling in a noise complaint but you decided that it was a better idea to just wait it out. It had to end at some point and overall, it was never a good idea to get involved with parties like that because sometimes they got out of a hand, and you were too smart to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Though when you stepped outside to 'check your mailbox' - spy on the party still going on into the early hours of the morning - you find yourself tripping over something. You stumble onto your hands and knees and it's only when you pull yourself up do you really get a good look at the man passed out by your mailbox. It's Ricky, and he's mumbling things almost incoherently. He mutters something about dope, bitches, Trinity, more bitches, Lucy, and good booze. It's a pathetic way to be, but you can't help but feel bad for you.

You use the toe of your shoe to rock his face awake. Ricky sputters before waking up in a drunk panic. He's angry and yelling incoherently, but your promise of a hot shower and a hot sandwich satiates his anger. He struggles his way through a shower, though almost slips a few times. He eats hand to mouth, chewing loudly, and drunk conversation ensues. He shares a lot with you - stuff he probably wouldn't have shared sober. He eventually passes out, not remembering much in the morning. That morning you share breakfast and a little bit about each other. He tried to hate you, he really did, but you were charismatic in a friendly way. There weren't any ulterior motives, you just enjoyed conversation.

"I don't know Julian, she seems fine to me. I mean, she's not all that bad. Her yard is pretty clean and you know, she has that pink little flamingo in her yard and honestly it's pretty fuckin' cute. I mean yeah she's kinda annoying and I hate that fuckin' southern fuckin' cowboy accent she fucking has but whatever. I think you're gettin' worked up over nothin'. You've been so busy tryna push out this lady who hasn't done nothin' wrong to you while I'm over here slavin' away watchin' after these fuckin' dope plants and tryin' to study for my grade ten all while play peepin' tom spy guy on some poor fuckin' lady."

"You're just saying that 'cause she let you spend the night and made you breakfast."

"You know what I sure as fuck I am! She made me breakfast and kept me from sleepin' on the fuckin' ground drunk as piss and let me use her shower and shit and I didn't even have to put out! It's not like I trust her or anything like that - I didn't talk about dope or nothin' like that at all." That was the truth. "It's just at this point anything is better than fucking Cory and Trevor. I'm not sayin' you gotta like her or trust her, but she's not all that bad Julian. Maybe if you actually got to fuckin' know her like I have you'd see that you're just being a paranoid dickbag."

"You know what Ricky, you don't anything about her. You're just seeing what she wants you to see. But I'm smart, so I see right through it -"

"Come on Julian don't be like that -"

"- and since nobody is going to take care of this fucking situation then I guess I'll have to."

Julian felt like everyone around him was failing him. Nobody else seemed to feel the same way he did about your existence in the trailer park. As each day passed, Julian grew more overtly snide. When approaching Ricky and Bubbles, Julian never took the time to acknowledge you. It was obvious that he was just being an ass, so you opted to ignore it, preferring not to fight. Silence was Julian's strongest weapon. But as the days ticked by, the tension between you and Julian only seemed to mount itself higher.

It's not like you inherently disliked Julian. In fact, you liked to believe that there was good in everyone and you prided yourself in your ability to be able to pull even the toughest people out of their shell. However, Julian was no easy project. Every time you tried to approach him, he simply brushed you off. You weren't even sure that the two of you had even exchanged any greetings. He hadn't even said hello. So when trying to talk to him didn't work, you simply tried to stay out of his way. This was frustrating for Julian because what he wanted you to do was to blow up and make it a big ordeal. But you didn't. You simply kept to yourself and resumed helping others around the park without complaints.

There were times where Julian thought about approaching you in the way Julian thinks about approaching any pretty thing in a summer dress that talks to him. But he remains strong in the face of adversity. Gone were the days of chasing anything in a dress. He had a dope business to worry about.

But sometimes the thought would creep up onto Julian ever so slowly. Sometimes, he'd get this kind of fantasy in his head - especially on the Sunday afternoons you'd spend gently pushing yourself back and forth in your rocking chair, enjoying the summer sunlight. He could think of a million ways you two could enjoy the afternoon together, but he often pushed the thought out of his head. He had a park to protect. Friends to protect.

"You know, you have some real nerve comin' up here in this trailer park and putting on a show like you're doing."

You look up from the rocking chair you were gently pushing yourself back and forth in and offer Julian a small smile.

"So you're Julian?"

Julian can't help but be a bit enamored with your slight southern drawl. It sounds like you're somewhere from the deep southern United States - one of those more rural provinces like Texas or Alabama. He can't quite pinpoint the accent, but he secretly finds it endearing.

"And how do you know that?"

"I mean, with how much you do for the people here it's kind of hard not to know who you are. Plus, Ricky and Lucy both never seem to shut up about you. You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say they're both in love with you or something. Also, yesterday you came to pick up Ricky and he pointed right at you and said well, there's Julian, see ya later. I just put two and two together."

"I'm not here to make small talk, (name)."

"Then what are you here to do, Julian?"

There's silence. What is he here to do. There wasn't anything that he could reasonably do and he wasn't the terrorizing type if he didn't have to be. Fuck, he had even promised that his greasy trouble-causing days were over. But here he was, standing at the edge of the patio stairs, contemplating whether or not he should threaten a woman.

"I'm just here to ask you about your intentions with Ricky, that's all."

You can't help but laugh out loud at the comment. "Oh, please. There's nothing going on between us."

Julian knows that because if there was something going on between you and Ricky, Ricky wouldn't shut up about it and the whole park would know. But he's trying to be covert about his intent to interrogate you.

"Yeah, well . . . there better not be . . . Ricky's a good guy and I'd really hate to see him get hurt . . ."

"Why are you really here, Julian?"

Julian stands in silence, thoughtfully cradling his glass in his hand as he tries to come up with a clever lie - but it's hard to think when he catches a glimpse of your thighs pressed together underneath your thin summer dress. He squints and then looks away briefly.

"I just wanted to stop by and tell you more about the culture of Sunnyvale. You know, we're really tight-knit. Like family."

"I know."

"And you know, family protects family."

"I know."

"And you know, I'd do anything for my family."

"I know."

"Anything."

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm not getting at anything, (name). I'm just givin' you a little more info about our park, just trying to get acquainted with you."

"Oh, you're trying to get acquainted with me? This is the first time I've spoken to you in the month I've been living here."

"Well, you know, I was busy with the business I'm running -"

"- that lawn mowing business you and Ricky got?"

Is that what Ricky is calling it? "Yeah, we've had a lot of customers so I've been having to do a lot of bookwork to keep up with the business you know. But it's been busy, so I haven't had time to talk, but now I do and I want to get to know you."

"You want to get to know me?"

"That's what I just said isn't it?"

"Well I'll tell you what Julian," You push the chair backwards in thought, looking up at the bright summer sky. The sun shines in your face, warming your skin. It's a nice feeling. "If you really want to get to know me, you'll come over for dinner tonight."

Julian wasn't going to admit it but he was excited at the prospect of dinner. The last time he shared time - much less a meal - with a woman, she ended up stealing his dope plants and lying to him about being in love. In all fairness, most people would have been wary of someone saying I love you within the first week of getting to know them, but Julian (for the most part) was a hopeless romantic. He liked the idea of a life with someone else.

Julian told himself that this was strictly business - that he was here to set the record straight. This wasn't get-to-know-you dinner, this wasn't a date. He was just here to let you know that he wasn't going to tolerate funny business. He just happened to be wearing his nicest clean black shirt and he just happened to be wearing one of his nicer pair of jeans - the ones that didn't have the holes in them. Julian knocks on your door. The two minutes he waits for you to answer feels like an eternity but when you open the door, he's glad he's waited.

"You got a hot date you're going to after this?"

"What, this?" You look down at the pink summer dress you're wearing, "This is casual." You had always been the more feminine type, enjoying softer clothes and pretty dresses. Plus, unlike jeans dresses were more comfortable. You usher him inside and he obliges, being careful to not spill his drink when he steps in.

"Dinner is served." Dinner being a massive fucking bowl of macaroni and cheese with cheap ass hot dogs. "Sorry it's not exactly the best, but -"

"It's fine, don't worry about it." Julian sets his glass down. He's actually ecstatic. Macaroni and cheese and fucking hotdogs? "You know, I don't know where you're from but around here this is a five-star meal."

You give a dry laugh. as Julian picks up his fork to eat. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm kind of new to the whole trailer park life and the whole being poor thing."

"Oh yeah? Where are you from?"

"Southern United States."

"What state?"

"Texas."

"That's a long way from here, basically on the other side of the continent. Why'd you come up this way?" Julian tells himself that he's not trying to get to know you because he's interested in you - he's trying to get to know you to get dirt on you, to know what he's up against.

"I needed an abortion." You answer dryly, "And even though it's been legal for some years now, no physician was wiling to perform one on me."

"Why come to Nova Scotia? Why not just go to another state?"

"Well, I figured things were just better here than they were there. Don't get me wrong, it's not perfect by any means but it's better than where I was from. At least here I know if I need the service again, it's a little more reliably accessible. Plus, it's not like I had anywhere or anyone I could turn to. So I just kind of . . . stayed."

"Heavy stuff." Julian sets down his fork, "Didn't have any family to turn to?"

"No, and even if I did they're not the kind of people I'd want to be around."

Julian could relate to that.

"So you just came to Canada for an abortion and then decided to stay? You know, when Americans come to Canada they want to go to Quebec. Nova Scotia isn't exactly on the top of the list, let alone Dartmouth. Let alone fucking Sunnyvale Trailer Park. Nobody just moves in here. Come on, (name) . . . what's the real reason why you're staying here?"

Your mouth runs dry as you consider answering him honestly. "Well, uh . . . you know . . ." You twiddle your thumbs a bit, "I came to Canada with my passport and got my abortion and then . . . I just uh . . ." There's a long pause as your appetite disappears completely. "I didn't have anywhere to go to so I just . . . never left . . . this place was the only place that'd rent to an illegal resident . . ."

"Holy fuck you don't have your papers?" Julian wasn't sure what kind of story he was expecting but it wasn't that. Now he feels like an asshole. "How did you get a job? How did you even afford this place?"

"Well, I had some savings so that was a good cushion, but when that ran out I was able to find a job working as a waitress at that little restaurant just out of town. I'm not technically on the payroll, they just don't make me report my tips, and any extra money is kind of . . . earned under the table." You respond sheepishly.

God, Julian feels like such a fucking jackass for being a raging asshole to you.

"That's . . . hard." Julian doesn't really know what else to say.

"Yeah."

"Well, I've shared my deepest darkest secret with you. Do you want to share anything with me?"

You and Julian talk well into the early hours of the morning, swapping life stories, funny anecdotes, and talking about all of the small things in between. Honestly, he feels at ease with you in a way he hasn't felt at ease before. The conversation flows naturally and even the silence you occasionally fall into feels comfortable. It's nearly two in the morning when you both look at the small clock hanging on your wall and realize the time.

". . . well, it's a little late . . ." You stretch in your chair, still sitting across the table from Julian. You don't really want him to go, but you've both run out of things to talk about and you still have some errands you have to run before work tomorrow. "You know, I have some things I gotta do tomorrow . . . but if you're feeling nice, maybe you can pay me back for dinner by making some for me. I'm usually too tired to cook when I get home . . . you know, only if you want to."

It's hard for Julian to say no to that face.

"What time do you get off work?"

. . .

Julian continues to insist that he doesn't feel some kind of way, that he's just taking the opportunity to really get to know you - you know, in case you ever pose a threat - but the nightly dinner-dates seem to differ.

"Why is it so hard to admit that you have a hard-on for (name)? It's so fucking obvious."

"It's not like that Ricky. You know, I have somewhere to be so why don't you just fuck off and give me some fucking space?"

"Oh yeah I know exactly where you want to be, all up in -"

The truth of the matter was that even though Julian fantasized about it at night, truly nothing had happened. You were sweet, kind, intelligent, patient, compassionate - a truly wonderful person. And that was the problem. Normally, Julian found himself happy to jump into a relationship, but he found himself afraid of making a fool of himself. Guys like him didn't get with girls like you. Simple as that. Besides, love just wasn't in the cards for Julian. It just never worked out like that.

Tonight was yet another night of disappointment. You had lingered on Julian's doorstep after dinner, hoping that maybe he'd make a move and at least give you a kiss goodnight - but the two of you simply stood there awkwardly until he nodded, saying he was probably going to go off to bed now. It was frustrating because you thought you were sending all of the right signals. Light touches, flirtatious giggles, risque comments - the works. But yet again, you find yourself leaving empty-handed. It wasn't that you weren't satisfied with the friendship, you really liked the dynamic the two of you had. You liked that Julian showed you ways to save money, ways to spruce up the trailer home so it felt more roomy, showed you around town a bit - but it left you feeling a bit stupid because you could have sworn the two of you had something more. You could just feel it. But he never addressed it and it drove you crazy.

You knock on the door nervously, your hands shaking.

Julian answers the door again. "What's going on?"

"I don't want to go home just yet. This is about the time J-Roc films his adult films. Can I just sit here for thirty more minutes? He usually finishes up around one in the morning or so."

"Uh, yeah, sure, come on in. You can hang out here. I have to shower because, you know, I got somewhere to be in the morning -" Tomorrow was the day he was supposed to drop off the product with the prison guards, "- normally I'd wait up but I got some important stuff I gotta take care of tomorrow. I'm about to get ready for bed, so you can just leave whenever you're ready."

"Alright."

You find yourself sitting awkwardly on the couch as Julian disappears into the bathroom. The trailer shakes a bit when he turns on the water and you can hear the pipes rush before the water falls like rain into the tub. You sit in silence and contemplate. You couldn't keep going back and forth like this, it'd get nowhere. He had hinted a few times at maybe having feelings. Sometimes his hand would linger on the small of your back too long when he was moving past you, or he'd stand too close to you - so close your shoulders would touch - whenever he got the chance. But nothing would ever come of it, and you were tired of it. You think about maybe joining him in the shower but that's too ballsy of a move, so you simply sit there and listen to the shower run until it's turned off. There's more shuffling and you can hear him go into his room. The hallway light turns off and the door clicks close. You should probably get going by now, but you can't bring yourself to just leave.

. . .

You feel like a psychopath drifting down the hallway. You only came down here to use the bathroom, but now you were standing at his bedroom door - contemplating whether or not you should knock on the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Ricky, is that you? I told you to stop picking my fucking lock -"

"No," You answer meekly, "It's me. I uh, wanted to take that book back I lent you before I went home. I didn't see it in your living room so I figured you might be keeping it in here."

Julian stares up at the ceiling in thought. Julian is pretty book-smart and it doesn't take a genius to know the game you're running. He's been down this road a thousand times. He wants to say yes, but there's still the lingering fear of ruining the good friendship that's already there.

Julian turns his head to look at his nightstand, the small paperback book sat there. Shit, maybe you weren't playing any games.

"Yeah, give me a moment, I'll come bring it to you."

"You don't have to go through that trouble, I'll just come get it real quick . . . if that's alright with you."

". . . that's alright with me."

You gently push the door open, slipping through before gently closing the door behind you. You can only see the outline of Julian's body in the dark, a few shadows illuminated by the moonlight that drifts in through the blinds.

"It's right over here." You see the shadow of Julian's hand reach over and grab the thick book. Infinite Jest.

"I'll come get it." You pull yourself up onto the bed, you're knees on either side of his feet. Gently, you shimmy your way up, crawling over him on your hands and knees. Julian shifts a bit. Both of your breaths are heavy and as you sit yourself comfortably on his waist, you watch his chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. Gently, you pluck the book from his hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Julian's voice is barely over a whisper.

You thumb through the thick book, landing on a page barely illuminated by the moonlight, reading the page you've thumbed to. "Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it." Truer words have never been spoken. Like everything in life, Julian has sunk his fingernails so deep into it he's drawn blood. He likes to pretend he can let things go, but he can't.

Julian's hands gently grip at your hips, squeezing them softly - almost like he's afraid that if he squeezes too tight he'll hurt you. His fingers grip at your waist, gently pushing your hips backwards, guiding them in a gentle rocking motion against him. Your hips follow the movement of his hands, rocking against him with a pleased hum.

"Is that right?" Julian asks in a whisper.

"That's right." You respond gently.

"Me included?" He can't hope that you want him so bad that you'd sink your nails so deep into him that he'd never be able to leave you, even if he wanted to. And even if you wanted to leave him, he'd probably stay around and beg for you to take him back anyway.

"If you'll let me."

If he wasn't rock hard before he's rock fucking hard now. "I want you." Julian's voice is hoarse, completely contradicting his typically firm and masculine present. He melts under you. Whether he wanted to believe it or not, Julian was a romantic and the touch of a woman he really valued meant a lot to him. His breath is labored as he guides your hips against him, "Please, I want you."

If this were someone else in the park, it'd be a different story. Sleeping around with people in the park for Julian wasn't about emotions, it was about releasing a physical need, and when you can't keep a boyfriend sometimes you have to turn to your neighbors for some help. Everyone slept with everyone. But you're not them, this isn't just casual for Julian - he doesn't want to fuck it up. He shudders when your fingertips drag across his chest, tracing patterns and circles into his shirt as you rock against him, grinding your hips downwards to create more friction. You're a tease, you take your time, and he hates it but he loves it. Two large hands reach up to cup your breasts over your shirt gently, His hands trail downwards, over your abdomen, grabbing gently at your stomach for a short moment before finding themselves at the hem of your shirt.

"What are you waiting for?" You ask him between small breaths, still making rhytmic riding motions. It's a softly-asked question but also a plea for action. "Please, Julian. I've wanted this since the moment I saw you."

"God, fuck you're so fucking hot." It's like a flip switched in his head and he can't hold himself back anymore. Strong hands placed firmly on your hips flip you onto your back. Now he's on top of you, every part of him everywhere. His lips touch yours in a kiss, teeth pull at the skin of your neck, and tongue sooths the freshly bruised areas by rubbing itself on it in small circles. Like always, he can't help himself, and unlike recently, he stops wasting time.

Your shirt is the first thing to come off - Julian helps shimmy it off of you, throwing it to the side. The next thing to come off is your pajama pants, which he also tosses to the side after helping shimmy it off of you. He has half a mind to compliment the pretty color of your underwear and tell you it looks good on you, but he doesn't pay it any mind since it's about to come off anyways. His hands lift you up by the small of your back just long enough for him to unclasp your bra, letting you fall back down onto the bed. His hands hook underneath your knees, lifting them up and pushing your legs up so he can help slide your underwear easily off of your body. You're left naked under him while he remains fully clothed, lowering himself onto you before you can complain that he hasn't undressed yet.

His thumbs roll against your nipples, gently pinching and pulling at them before taking them into his mouth. Julian has never been the most gentle lover, especially when he gets excited, always eager to take matters into his own hands - but that's part of his appeal.

Kisses trail down your stomach, followed by him dragging his tongue along the skin, pushing your legs apart. He takes his time adorning your inner thighs with kisses, sucking on the skin and taking it between his teeth. He likes the way he makes you whimper and moan, it's intoxicating. But eventually the teasing becomes too much even for him, he's growing impatient, so he lends his tongue to you, circling it around your clit, strong nose pressed into sensitive skin.

Your body writhes as you feel a familiar pressure build in your abdomen, thighs tightening around his head so tight he thought he might suffocate. What a way to go that would be. Your fingers curl into his short hair, gripping and pulling at his hair while your toes curl. You whimper but that only encourages him to slowly push his thick index finger into you, followed by a second after you properly adjusted. His mouth and fingers work in tandem, his fingers curling and pressing inside of you in a come hither motion while his tongue continues to stroke your clit.

"Fuck, Julian, god, fuck -" But before you can climax, he's gone - pulling away. If Julian enjoys anything, it's edging. There's just something about bringing a woman to climax and leaving them nearly in tears that turns him on.

"You look disappointed." Julian catches a glimpse of your lopsided frown illuminated in the moonlight, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." His shirt is pulled over his head, exposing his bare chest. When you touch the muscle, it's firm from years of consistent working-out. You trace a tattoos that look like they were done with a sewing needle and ink - probably stick and poke tattoos - but Julian frowns. He doesn't like those tattoos, he's not proud of them and he's not proud of his time spent in jail. But you only offer him an encouraging smile and place your palm over the tattoo before dragging your hand down to his belt, pulling at the buckle. Julian offers you a half-hearted smile. "Can't wait?"

Julian pushes your hand out of the way gently, taking his time to unfasten his belt and slowly pulling it through the loops. The belt is tossed to the side, along with his pants and underwear, leaving you both equals. Two hands hook themselves underneath your knees, placing your ankles on his shoulders while he uses his right hand to stroke his cock a bit, helping to harden himself up more. Sometimes the nerves just get to you.

"Holy fuck Julian you're big, you gotta be careful with that thing you're carrying a whole fucking concealed weapon -"

Julian chuckles a bit at the comment but presses a gentle kiss to your ankles. "I'll be careful with you if that's what you're trying to say."

The tip is pushed in slowly with great discomfort, pushing himself in. There's a stiff moment of silence as you let out a labored breath.

"You good?" he asks.

You nod, dragging your teeth over your bottom lip. Julian takes his thumb against your bottom lip, peeling it out from underneath your teeth. His thumb drags your bottom lip down, exposing the inside of it before pushing his thumb into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his thumb, letting your tongue slide against the skin, sucking on the appendage as he pulls out just a bit, repositioning himself before he thrusts back in. Your body pushes upwards with the motion, head pressing against the headboard slightly. His thumb is still pressed in your mouth while his free hand keeps hooked underneath your knee, pushing it backwards so he can angle himself better - each thrust pushing itself deeper inside of you. Sweat coats his chest and runs down the side of his face, abdomen flexing the closer he gets to coming, but he restrains himself - wanting to ride it out for as long as he could.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Oh, God, Julian -"

"Fuck, (name)."

"Julian -"

"(Name), (Name), (Name)."

"I heard you did a real good job of running that girl out of the trailer park last night, Julian."

"Hey, Barbara, why don't you fuck off?"

#julian tpb #tpb julian #tpb ricky #trailer park boys #tpb #ricky lafeur #julian x reader #julian x reader tpb #tpb bubbles #tpb ricky and julian #ricky tpb #julian x you tpb #trailer park boys reader insert #tpb reader insert

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transboykirito · 5 months

Text

it's the last couple of hours of 2024 and i made a post earlier about it already, but. holy fuck i love you guys. more than i have words for. you mean the world to me. thank you for being there for this messy, hectic, exciting, heartbreaking year.

this year i left my unhappy relationship, shaved my hair, started testosterone, found out i am in fact allergic to testosterone, made a solid concrete plan of moving to new york, fought for my life buying taylor swift tickets, saw my chemical romance in concert, started making porn (and i am working on being unashamed to say this but it's truly my dream job), broke my back, and then i ended the year with a suicide attempt. woohoo. what the fuck happened.

this year is the hardest year i've had since 2021. and 2021 was fucking hell. but it's the last day of 2023 and i'm sitting at my dining table with my cat dozing on the chair next to me, i have my last ever drink on the table and i know when the clock hits midnight, i'm going to really be sober, and i just replied to an email about an official model partnership with a studio, the pay from which will be enough for me to move out of my abusive household next year.

i mean it genuinely, i didn't think i'd be here writing this. after my attempt, aside from not wanting to have survived, i wanted to delete everything and just disappear. i was convinced i didn't belong anywhere, and that people would be happier without me around. it was you incredible, beautiful people who, with your words and kindness and effort and care, who made me stay.

and i'd like to thank a few people specifically. i love every single one of you, and i cherish you all dearly, but there's a few people in particular id like to give my standard shoutouts to (i do this every year and it's not any kind of preference or favouritism, you've all impacted my life and year more than i know how to say, i love you all)

este, @petewenstz - you are the stars. you are the kindest, sweetest soul and i can't believe we've been friends for two years!! your messages that day were so important and impactful and i can't thank you enough for the rationality and grace you handled it with. it was so so overwhelming and you made it less so. i love you, you are starlight and sunshine. i can't wait to see what i can say next year for three years, because every time we spoke this year made me heart feel so light. in the words of our favourite goth-punk blondie, please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh i could recognise anywhere.

red, @xeolf - i love you forever too. i hope we get to meet next year when i'm on my trip, or maybe when i've moved next year. maybe both. you've given so, so much joy and laughter this year that i can't even begin to comprehend how one person on the other side of the world can become so special to me so quickly, despite my best efforts to be detached. you said something a little while ago, in the tags of a post you reblogged from me asking what season reminds you of prev. and, somehow, your response was what made me feel a little more real and human during an episode when i felt like i was some kind of puppet precariously dangled on an invisible string. i think of you whenever i read phantm bullet r any f the web novels. i appreciate you and your words more than you'll ever know.

gabe, @adorabl8dthirsty - we've only just started to really talk, so you're about to learn first-hand how fucking awkward i am, and here's the first example of that. when my friend told me you'd reached out and asked about me i broke down in hysterical sobs. believe it or not, i've wanted to be your friend, i was just so shy to reach out bc i thought you were too cool for me. i'm really glad we talk now. ily, and thank you for being there for all my bullshit and shitposts and meta and everything this year and somehow still wanting to be friends. ily.

aj, @thegayfromrulid - i know this year as been so hard on you and you've deserved none of it. i love you, as unwaveringly as i have since we first met when i was a shy young teenager. this is my last year even being a teenager, i'm twenty in two months. i wouldn't have made it without you, dude. does the adulting thing ever get easier? i have to believe it will. i'm so glad you've had moments of happiness this ear, you deserved them all and even more. i hope next year is gentler to you.

ant, who won't see this because you don't have tumblr - i love you so fucking much, bro. thank you for waking me up by jumping on my bed and whacking me with pillows. thank you for being there when i broke down over my cane. thank you for giving me the disney channel sibling bond i always wanted so badly. thank you for teaching me to restring a guitar, for singing nelly with me in the kitchen, for letting me take you to footy, for letting me see you crying and upset and vulnerable. i love being your brother. i'm so glad your mom lowered her standards enough to marry my dad.

and sugou, the fictional character i despise enough to keep going out of spite - thanks for being an asshole. thanks for being hot enough to make me want to cosplay you. this year, you helped me weirdly heal a part of myself that i gave up on more than a decade ago. i'm better and braver than you, and i'm stronger than my fear of you, and thank you for letting me realise that this year. ps go fuck yourself <3

happy 2024 to us all. i love you guys.

love, taylor

#personal #not sao #i love ever single one of you more than words can even say

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saphirered · 2 years

Note

Hello :), id love to request a kingsley x reader where theyre a member of his new pirate crew perhaps first mate after he steals that ship from fjord at the end of campain 2

Sorry for the wait on this one! Too many ideas to approach this request turned into procrastination but I finished it! It's pining, it's sweet and fluffy. Hope you like how it turned out! And right in time for the Mighty Nein reunited! 😘

He still doesn’t quite know how this happened or when and don’t get him started on the why’s because every time he tries listing them, he can’t put actual words to it; you’re just everything perfect. When did he turn into some fictional cliché? His fellow chaos maker tiefling would use this to fuel her next novel to be sure. Captain falls in love with his first mate. A match made in hell. Perfect. Just perfect. Kingsley’s tried to play it cool but during mealtimes he finds himself sit next to you, relishing in even just smalltalk. When you have a shift together he’ll be paying more attention to you than to what he’s supposed to be on watch for. When another totally unavoidable skirmish arises, he worries for your safety and always makes sure he’s within some kind of reachable range because he feels safer when you’re near. He trusts few people, and you are no exception. You’re all pirates after all. But unlike anyone else, he actually wants to trust you. He wants to be able to count on you, as you can count on him. Were he ever to tell you this, you’d laugh in his face of course. The last deckhand that did, you literally laughed in the poor man’s face. He’d rather not be verbally torn apart and take that wound to his heart.

You look over the waves, your post at the helm is one you take seriously. You always have. You’re the goddamn first mate of this ship. You do your best to ignore the staring of your captain who is rather disinterested in the suggestions of the bosun, and favours simply nodding or humming along, when he looks past. He’s focussed on you. You feel heat rise to your cheeks but luckily the appearance of such could be brushed off as the harsh wind cutting at your face. Those ruby eyes, you cannot set out of your mind. Are you not doing your job correctly? Are your capabilities being brought in question? Is there doubt in your loyalty to this ship, to this crew? Did you do something wrong? Are you no longer worthy of this position? All these questions are easier to ask, to consider than to admit to the truth you’re denying; that’s the stare of admiration. There’s a tap on your shoulder and you nearly jump out of your skin. It’s just the helmsman ready to relieve you.

You retreat into your own mind, build a shield to keep your thoughts from going rampant as you make your way down the steps onto the main deck. It’s probably a good thing you have got your sea legs because a particular wave has some catch themselves just in time. Kingsley, who you missed was midway towards you, lunges and barely manages to catch himself on the railing of the stairs. You didn’t even realise he had moved, but now he stands in your path. Quickly you respond out of reflex, catch his other arm, and help him back to stable feet. Everything around feels numb but the moment you touch him, feel his hand wrap around your lower arm, as you balance him, your cold skin burns and find yourself short of breath, eyes wide.

“Looks like I can count on my first mate to save me collecting my teeth from the deck.” Kingsley appears as short of breath as you. The moment you’re sure he’s stable again, you pull your arm from his grasp and step around him without another word, making for the stairs down below deck. The tiefling watches you go, and you move so fast, or perhaps his mind has slowed that much. He can’t say anything else, do anything else. You’re gone and he won’t follow.

So ends another day. And he’ll spend the next night staring at the ceiling of his cabin, unable to take his mind off you; the electricity that ran through his veins when you caught him, and the numbness when you let go. It may sound cliche but when he stood so near to you, when you held onto him, he felt as if he had never seen the world in colour, had never used his senses to their full extend, suddenly everything made sense yet nothing at all did but he couldn’t care less, and when you rushed away, you took that feeling with you and he felt lost again. He’ll day dream about that feeling because he could not find sleep until the early hours of morning. He’s completely and utterly in love with his first mate. No way around it anymore.

————

Kingsley dodges a punch as someone tosses a chair at another drunkard. The tavern took a turn for the better when an incredibly dull night turned into a bar fight, and a glorious one at that. He’s pretty sure he’ll be covered in bruises, the bloodstains he’ll never get out of his shirt, his knuckles are busted, and his nose just might be broken, still he is filled with cheer and adrenaline. The next punch to the gut sparks it only further as he counters by grabbing the arm, getting close and delivering a punch straight to the face of his opponent. Knocked out cold. Next. He’s distracted when he sees a familiar flash resembling your shape, legs wrapped around someone’s shoulders as they desperately try to throw you off, but you hold on tight, even when your back hits that thankfully sturdy table. This time you let go and deliver a perfect kick to the throat and get back up to tackle the next one coming at you. Then for just a brief second things go dark as pain erupts through his head. He recovers, looking for the source to see the blurred form of some kind of brute. Did he just get punched in the face? His ears are ringing. Just barely does he manage to deflect the brunt of the next hit.

You let out a battle cry as you kick low, high and strike. You’ll have to admit that when this fight started you were exhausted and didn’t feel like getting into the fray. You don’t exactly know why it started but your captain seemed to be one half of it and then it became crew against crew, and the rest of the bar got pulled in. Your exhaustion faded quickly when some poor sod made the wrong call and made you spill your drink. Screw exhaustion. That’s what you told yourself because in reality, you felt your blood boil when Kingsley took a foul hit. You’ve been on a good track record for the past few minutes. Sustained some damages yourself, but nothing you couldn’t handle. You’ll probably be sore in the morning and have some bruises to show for the eventful evening but such is your life. Everyone needs a good bar fight every once in a while. Every once in a while you’d check up on your captain, search for him in the room. When you have the opportunity to do next, you see him cornered, disoriented and opposing a man twice his size. He takes another hit and is thrown against the table, it shattering beneath the impact of his weight.

The groan on his breath is cut short as air escapes his lungs and he’s coughing. He barely has time to recover or get up when he’s grabbed by the front of his shirt, the movement registering a second or two later than it should. The brute in front of him has no intentions of letting him go it seems. Squinting he’s pretty sure this is the first mate of the captain he went fist to cuffs with in the first place. Maybe this wasn’t one of his better ideas. Does he have any regrets? No. That captain is short a couple of teeth. Serves ‘em right. Though, given his place now, he might be short a couple of teeth. The punch is incoming and while he does his best to deflect, there isn’t much he can do to turn this into a favourable position for him, so he prepares for the impact best he can though he doubts he’ll be awake to make any counter move. Then, it rains something, shatters. Glass. Glass shatters above him. His opponent goes dazed and the hold weakens. Next a fist swings to bring home the attack and the brute hits the floor with a heavy thud. He’s grabbed by the front of his shirt again and when he thinks the next blow is coming, he just focusses in on your face. With force you get him to his feet, never letting go of the red stained linen as you pull him along, dancing around other fighting patrons until the cool night’s air hits him. He hears shouts behind, but you run, and thus force him along until the sounds muffle and he walks the plank onto the ship.

Out of breath you set the tiefling on one of the crates on deck as you bend over, take a deep breath and straighten again. Kingsley watches as you run a hand through your hair, and wipe some remnants of blood from your cheek. Your gaze turns to him, analytical. You check him for injury, step close, hold his chin, move his face, touch some scrapes to which he hisses in discomfort, then look him straight on. You hold his nose between both your index fingers and give him a serious look. He can feel the crunch back in his skull as you reset it. He tastes metal on his tongue. Blood. You press a scrap of cloth to his nose and when his response is too slow for your liking, grab his hand and make it take over the position you held it in.

“You good?” You ask. You sound mostly neutral, as if you would have after any fight he’s gotten into. There’s a hint of exhilaration. Good to know you had your fun too. What strikes him though is the concern that’s hidden beneath. You’re actually concerned for his wellbeing?

“Yeah.” He groans leaning back only for you to interfere. Right. He’s sitting on a crate. “Saved me yet again. What would I do without you?”

“You’ve got brain damage. And you’re drunk.” You roll your eyes.

“I’d hate to tell you, but I’m perfectly sober. The brain damage? Now that, I won’t make any statements on.” Ever the witty remarks you snort and cross your arms.

“Oh really? Captain Kingsley, started a bar fight perfectly sober? What would the people say?” You retort. Maybe it’s the buzz of what little alcohol you did manage to consume, or the adrenaline beginning to wear off but it’s so easy again. You don’t feel like you’re running away from a truth right now. This moment, is just so easy.

“There’s the sass I love.” He grins. He’s missed this. The times where you’re so easy going. You’ve been avoiding him, you’ve been distant and he’s missed this nature of yours, the one you reserve only for public settings and anything not to do with your person. And yet you close up again after that comment. Your shoulders move in and you rub your arm, only to be reminded of the forming bruises when you find your skin tender.

“Do I want to know why this fight even started?” You try to change the subject, ignore the comment, pretend it was never said. Love. Love. Love. The word echoes through your mind. Kingsley sighs deeply and the usual attitude dissipates for a slightly more serious one.

“I don’t think you’ll like the answer.” His eyes cast downward. At first you’re brushing it off like a child being caught doing something they shouldn’t but then you see it for what it really is; avoidance. Like you’re avoiding certain things. Your heart clenches. You bite your tongue. No more running. May this tail-end of an adrenaline rush give you the courage to see this through.

“Humour me.” He looks up and you see his eyes. Gone is the playfulness he usually displays, or the self-confidence and pride. The fuel of an epic bar fight is not enough to linger.

“A captain from another ship had some choice of words about someone I happen to care about.” Kingsley admits. “I asked the captain if he’d like to take back his words. He did not.”

“So you punched him in the face?” He drops the rag from his nose, the bleeding stopped and wipes away the remaining blood best he can before he simply shrugs. It’s not like he’s going to deny it and he’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

“They were some very offensive words. I take it to heart when my first mate is brought into question.” You thought you could brush over the implication it might have been you, not wanting to get any false hope but this blatant confirmation, that’s it. A small smile creeps onto your features and a warm and fuzzy feeling spreads through out.

“So what you’re saying is, you knocked out another captain because they insulted me, spiked the ire of their crew until a tavern brawl erupted in which you took a further beating to the point I had to save your ass before their first mate could return the favour?” You step closer and closer until you’re right in front of him. Kingsley looks up at you nodding along and getting smugger with the second. That pride returns.

“When you say it like that-“ You press your lips to his, your hands falling to his cheeks when he responds to your affections gleefully. Without breaking the kiss he scoots over on the crate and makes space for you. You sit next to him, thigh pressed against his, as you feel a warm palm against your cheek, and the other brushes along your arm, onto your shoulder until it settles on the small of your back and pulls you closer.

Many things run through his head and most thoughts come as fast as they go because he has no room for anyone but you in his mind. At surface it’s easy. The taste of your lips; remnants of the ale mixed with some metallic taste of blood either yours, or his or both. Then when he feels daring enough to brush his tongue against you and you respond favourably he continues. He feels your arms move from his cheeks where they cupped his face curve around until you wrap your arms around his neck and allow yourself to move closer against him. He runs his fingers along your cheek, into your hair where they tangle, the other pressing against the small of your back, brushing along in gentle circles. Secondly words finally appear in his head, cohesive strings of thought; why did he wait so bloody long? This now, this moment is a blessing but if this is how you feel, and might have felt ever since you retreated from him, he should have done this earlier, should have confronted you earlier and cleared up that misunderstanding.

Thirdly, Kingsley wants this moment to last forever. He’d fight an entire armada on his own if it meant you would grace him a kiss, even just a single one. But you do pull apart. Forehead against his, eyes still closed, he takes in the proximity to you. previously when you had a moment of physical closeness, you’d bolt the first chance you got. He hopes you won’t. He hopes you’ll stay. But he still makes it clear; if you think this a mistake, something you regret now, you can. He would never hold something like that against you. Sure it would hurt his feelings, but such is the way of life. It’s not just his word that matters here. If you are not one-hundred percent behind this, then it simply should not happen. He wants to be sure you don’t feel there’s no way back, that you feel trapped or like you have to but then he feels your lips peck his once final time before you pull back, unwrap your arms from him as he lets go of you. What he does not expect is for you to grab onto one of his hands, and pick the rag with the other, only to press it to his nose again.

“Your nose bleeding again.” You try to hide your gentle laughs as he just shakes his head in amusement causing you to reach out quickly and hold his head still. Kingsley responds but you can’t make out the words so when you raise an eyebrow he pulls the rag away once more, holding you at the wrist ever so gently.

“Injury. Forever to ruin the moment. At least I have a good healer.”

“I’m a pirate. Not a healer.” You deadpan. “If you’d like me to go fetch the healer I’m sure he’s deep in his cups but should be perfectly-“ Kingsley grabs your hand when you poke at one of the forming bruises.

“Oh, you think you’re funny now, aren’t you? Don’t backtalk to your captain.” You wipe away some more blood, and prevent any further response.

“My dear captain seems to be incapacitated.” You hum. He pulls away the rag again. This time the bleeding seems to stop and you feel safe to put it down.

“Well then, first mate. I’m pretty sure that puts you in charge. What are your orders?” You grin and tap your chin.

“I’m sure I can think of something.” You purse your lips every so lightly and Kingsley takes the opportunity to peck them in jest. He’ll have some ideas. Some inspiration for you. The ice has broken and with it all previous tensions. The morning can only tell how things will be when you’re both down from your adrenaline highs and when the world has returned to normal, or as normal as can be on this ship, given that Kingsley did just spark a conflict between his crew and another but he couldn’t care less. He lives in the moment and this is a good one. You’re living in the moment too. You can talk later about how much your lives have been one romantic cliche for the past few weeks.

#critical role x reader #kingsley x reader #mighty nein x reader #kingsley tealeaf #critical role #mighty nein #mighty nein reunion #critical role fanfiction #critical role fanfic #the mighty nein

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