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oswlld · 2 years

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OH PUEN, WE’RE REALLY IN IT NOW (or, an ask requested by @megacherik that I didn’t mean to turn into an almost 6K word count about the character, Puen)

BUCKLE UP! This post is split into two parts : 1) summarizing Puen as a standalone character and then 2) realllly diving into how these character moments are fleshed out in each episode

PART I - SUMMARY

Here are some takeaways about Puen as a standalone character; these conclusions are my own and some are supported under the cut, so please take these with a grain of salt (cries oh gawd there’s already pink)

ROMANTIC LEAD VS LOVE INTEREST

Romantic lead - main character in a romantic setting (main plot, other motivators drive towards romance)

Love interest - a character that the hero/main character is interested in (subplot, motivator to move the main story along)

And for the majority of the series, a lot of Puen’s onscreen presence, to me, functions more on the love interest side. HOWEVER, there’s still so many instances where his status as a romantic lead lead to understated character moments

WHAT IS IN A NAME

the narrative choice of never telling his name, calling himself/making others call him Tun for two years (and for us, ten weeks), weighs heavily when we hear “Puen” for the first time in ep 11

we feel the trauma at the same time as he does

i never took issue to the name drama and Talay has made it clear on numerous occasions it wasn’t important for him; having the audience wait ten weeks to hear it again was well executed

MOURNING? SOPHISTICATED? BLANK SLATE?

Talay’s wardrobe dialog carries the blue theme throughout his time in their universe, while Puen wore black/grayscale

we poke fun at those who default to black wardrobe, but how do I find meaning in this color palette choice that the production team assigned for Puen if it is an important characteristic for Talay/Blue?

so, is it because it’s one less thing to think about before going into work? is it painting a bigger picture about his character being orphaned? or is it simply saying nothing because we’re not supposed to know anything about him?

in a very quiet way, Tun’s wardrobe is the AU version of Puen; muted, neutral tones vs tess’/AU’s vibrancy paints, until we see Puen in red in so many occasions (which comes to a head when it comes to Real Red)

“TUN” vs PUEN

the balance between Up and Aou showcases the two sides of Puen - the person (silly) vs the actor (serious)

in a very understated way, it feels right that Talay also fits into Friend Credits and, by extension, falling in love with Puen, due to this dynamic

whether it was intentional that Jimmy moves differently or not, I have no choice but to pick up on the way Puen moves in the glass house scene, with the hand in his pocket, as if the suit/his wardrobe changes the way he carries himself vs when he was in Tun’s body and wearing casual clothes

“PEOPLE THINK I’M PERFECT”

Puen is naturally talented, picks things up quickly (good memory), which is an important skill to have for being a successful actor

reminds me of Lito a lot, having to learn new things for the job (ex: flair bartending)

we don’t see much evidence that would lead me to believe he’s a people pleaser or having insecurities to maintain perfectionism

thus, i think his professionalism, mixed with the loneliness, comes with the territory of never voicing his needs; other people assuming he could take care of himself gave himself permission to shut himself away at a young age

LOVE FROM A DISTANCE

we’re told that he remembers everything about Talay, but he has also been keeping tabs on Pang’s life while she’s been away in the other universe

it would make sense for a loner like Puen that he’d keep other people he cared about at arm's length; he’s very self-aware about being bad about love, so to what extent did he try and fail at retaining friendships in and outside of work?

in Lady Bird, there’s a scene where it’s pointed out that a piece of writing about Sacramento was written with so much affection and care; main character tells them she was just paying attention, but the other points out that “don’t you think maybe they are the same thing, love and attention?” the context for that scene in the movie and Puen as a character doesn’t translate thoroughly, but it does speak to how memory can play into his character without having flashbacks

i am going to just lean on the writers for creating a character that is very understanding and is the first to apologize and easily forgiving; without having moments to dispute this otherwise, this is a character trait he has, but not necessarily something he needed to work on i wonder if there’s a place in their og universe Puen disappears to when he’s struggling with something, that is unique to him (rather than using the same locations shown in the show so far)

HE’S A SELFLESS MAN WHO WANTS TO BE SELFISH FOR ONCE

his loneliness hasn’t hardened him or made him bitter, it has made him childlike in return

perpetually orphaned

reminds me of when heedo told her mom she was still thirteen; i think in many ways, he’s stuck there and it showed in moments when he wanted to be taken care of

there's something to be said about having the biggest angst/fight between them in midnight black be resolved in the love interest lens; meaning, the most important details about Puen’s life/motivations were vocalized through Up and Pang, in their respective scenes with Talay (instead of carrying out the turmoil through Puen, in the romantic lead lens)

we learn the full extent Puen is willing to fight to keep this life for himself, when Talay has previously fought so hard to ensure Puen’s return to their universe, and Puen wrestles with this selfish (and very understandable) revelation offscreen until we get to the island scene

after all this, is there something he learned from universal traveling? thinking back to the point i made about never voicing his needs - i think this was where growth happened, when he asked Talay if he could be that person to wake up to; that singular, pivotal moment of being vulnerable enough to ask someone to be their person???? no wonder it's the one scene he writes into a script ITS SO GENUINELY ROMANTIC

There is love in holding. And there is love in letting go. the Friend Credit subplot didn’t serve as a vehicle to motivate the portkey/universal travel plot forward; even less so for Puen’s ideal life with Pakorn’s parents, but the letting go of both was FKJLSKDJLSKDF inhales that…. it’s the grandest romantic gesture and greatest character moment for Puen as a romantic lead

his last act before leaving the universe was writing his name, letting go of the last thing he kept for himself; it being written in the earth of the universe that was his home, instead if it being spoken, is so LOUD

As we go into the last ep, the one character moment I am looking forward to seeing is how much of his life as Tun will be carried into his life as Puen. In the AU, being Tun was his way of being his most authentic Puen and now that he’s back in his own body, how does Puen change to carry Tun with him from this point forward? I do have points laid out below, when it comes to Puen’s return as an actor, but will we see further growth in establishing self worth? We shall see.

If this wasn’t long enough, I have broken down the character analysis further, by ep under the cut. It’s a marathon, so pls take breaks and stretch your legs when you can.

PART II - PUEN, THE CHARACTER THAT YOU ARE —

DISCLAIMER: I am utilizing much of my thoughts/explanations with context to later episodes, instead of what we learn about Puen within the timeframe/scope of the episode itself. In short, this is me breaking the character moments down with the information revealed later in the series.

OCEAN BLUE - 1a. Mainly showcases Puen through Talay’s POV, which gives love interest vibes alone. But what we did take away from his two brief scenes is how he interacts with his fans vs those he works with (well, there is no difference, he treats everyone with the same kindness and respect). We also know now that he keeps everything his fans gift him in his apartment, which speaks to how he cares for his fans; is there an element of sentimentality for him? Sidenote: he is tooootally the type of person that would have one thoughtful, nice interaction with a stranger and then think about that moment/person for at least a week 1b. Gawd, the professionalism of this man; you can sense how level-headed he can be in between takes. What is his rapport as an actor? We know him to be a superstar, enough to gain recognition to star in an international film and represent his country, but does the industry like him? Is he a pleasure to have on set?

FOREST GREEN - 2a. Puen’s entry into the other universe; how blessed we are to have a show give us THREE distinct events where PuenTalay meet each other again and again anew; instantly, Puen is surrounded by people, but i think the scene plays out beautifully; in that, while meeting Pang again later was special to him, Puen too felt that, in meeting Talay and Talay asserting himself as someone Puen can trust, the meeting was special to him too 2b. What’s this? a flashback that serves more as a Puen POV, rather than a Talay POV? there’s not much to take away from this short scene, but I wanted to establish a romantic lead POV shift, even if its only in a flashback scene; the rest of the episode exists with Puen in scenes with Talay and we don’t get a moment alone with Puen until the next episode

SOFT BLUSH!!! - I think the short, drunk narrative doesn’t need to have a moment in this post, but it stands to be said that it was a necessary send off to a version of Puen - we need to see Puen shift from how he deals with his previous life to learning how to exist in this universe. 3a. NOW, Pinky Promise™ reference, with the wooden hand model, was pointed out by others in the tag, so I won’t speak too much into it; but loooooook! a full scene of our romantic lead, fleshing out the history and future of Friend Credits; although the scene is most carried out through a flashback of a character we don’t see again until the end of ep 10, we understand what aspects of Pakorn Puen needs to contribute to the friend group and the type of friend he needs to be for Up and Aou; i wonder if he read further into Pakorn’s journals/studied them

3b. What is this?? ANOTHER solo scene of our ROMANTIC LEAD PUEN???? I love that the show gives us this moment: the beginnings of this friend group with Puen; it’s an important gesture (as opposed to how tess treated Talay’s friends), to truly want to make amends with Up and Aou; after this, we rarely see moments with just the three of them outside of Friend Credit shenanigans, but at least we had this 3c. A perfectly normal reaction to learning that Talay is single in your area.

DEEP MAGENTA, MY BELOVED! 4a. He’s SO perceptive about portkeys; “Hasn’t it occurred to you that the key to finding the portkey is love? […] What if to go back, you must fall in love with someone? What if it’s me?” - and it DOESN’T STOP - “I’ve been thinking about lots of things lately. About going home and about work. Everything is related to love. […] So I want to know a little more about love.” (the therapy bills are just piling up) That deep breath he takes, that pause, the way his hands hold together like that… PRECIOUS TO ME 4b - T: “Want to get married too, don’t you? P: “That’s normal, isn’t it? Of course, I think about it sometimes.” Interesting moment to contrast two character moments in that conversation; Talay thinking about the video presentation, saying he would like to color the video vs Puen thinking about his potential partner; also when Puen catches the bouquet vs Talay shielding himself from it (just like the RV scene when Puen points out that Talay shouldn’t just plan for the future alone)

side note: GUYSSSSSS, it didn’t occur to me until now that the music playing during the wedding video is the same as when they reunite in the glass house in the end of this ep AND in Talay’s fantasy reunion with Puen in ep 12 outside the building), APPALLED AND UNWELL

Jumping forward to the scene after the toss, when Talay reflects on their ongoing conversation about falling in love: P: “We can just fake it.” T: “No.” P: “Why not?” T: “Love isn’t something you can fake.” P: “Of course, we can. I faked it all the time when I was an actor.” T: “Then you fake it with someone else. Leave me out of it.” It’s an interesting take on having to artificially manufacture the elements required for both as inspiration for a screenplay and conjuring a portkey into existence. Do I believe there’s some hiding happening, in that he is using screenwriting as an excuse when Talay repeatedly turns him down? When Talay gets upset about the big spray paint display, there is a moment of hesitation. We know he was already falling, but this is a love interest moment. It’s creating friction for the Talay narrative. But if I switch over to Romantic Lead!Puen lens, I wonder if the moment after Talay says stop messing with me, he was going to confess something. However, Talay cuts him off.

4c. Let’s pause to take a 5 min break, you’ve already sat through likely 20+ min of my ramblings. Plus, let’s looks at one of Puen’s best looks as Tun… it’s a good look, lbr. Theyre all good looks - guys. shhh just look

4d. Anyways, at the end of the ep: P: “I just… wanted to know the feeling when I really love someone.” In hindsight, THIS REALLY HURTS YK??? He’s on his way there, albeit misguided. But how fascinating it is to point that out, diving into those emotions like an actor would in researching a role, except the lines are blurring. “But I want you to know that if it’s not you, I wouldn’t be able to work this well.” I am going to come back to this when we talk about ep 11. 4e. Now, that kiss… “There’s one more thing about the characters that I still don’t understand.” “Are you messing with me again?” “Not messing with you this time.” We jump to ep 5, the scene as a flashback continues with Puen confirming, “I kissed you because I felt like kissing you.” That’s mah BOY!!! Baby’s first real moment in acting on his feelings, not from his acting experience. Still misguided, in ways I can't express right now, but what a big step in his journey to learning more about love.

WINTER WHITE - 5a. the way I love a Bookstore Scene!! It’s such an understated character moment, when Talay is taking a genuine interest in Puen life. He’s not used to someone being curious about his likes/dislikes, especially coming from someone he really likes. We know the many future instances he turns Talay down in revealing something personal about his life, but ever the same, it’s so worthwhile to capture moments of unease/hesitation for Puen. VV showcases more of Talay’s journey in Puen rocking his foundation and keeping him on his toes, but we rarely see the many little ways Talay does the same for Puen. 5b. SOLEMN FACE!!! “The series crew got him a nickname.” GAWD, he - inhales This was him at least five years ago, around 18/19? “Because he always made a cold and solemn face on set.” IM SADDDD. As I mentioned before, I see him as someone who keeps an ear open to those he cares about, even if it’s not people he regularly keeps in touch with. By either osmosis or just seeking out news every once in a while, idk. Interesting thing to point out that he wants to give up acting while in the AU. In some ways, maybe he wanted to retain as much of Tun’s life as possible. But there is something to be said about staying away from a life he wasn’t happy in.

Before I move onto the next ep - “I’ll be the guy who lives with you.” MY GUY, RELAX! And then, when Talay is the one to hold his hand One (1) Time, Puen is just ready to move in together PFFFFT head in hands

5c. I know this is a post about Puen, but HI BABYYYYYY!!!!!! uhhhh PINK?????? FJSLDFKJSLKDF (btw this is a callout post to everyone who watched part 4 and made the most-played part of the video the preview for ep 6, where jimmy is shirtless with the shaving cream…. Valid, but STILL)

FIRE YELLOW - 6a. SOLEMN FACE RETURNS [crowd goes “awww :( “] Do I agree that it’s a good character take, that he prefers working anywhere with Talay over actually getting a job?? MMMMMMMMM idkkkk. 6b. “A life of doing things alone was not fun at all.” Now, THAT’s something. What a throwaway line that tells so much in so few words. Sure, he’s still shaken by Friend Credits disbanding, but he’s really trying to drive himself away from falling back into his old life: doing this alone. Yes, he now resides with Pakorn’s parents, but he’s really hoping to bring the group back together somehow over anything else.

We’ve all had our collective moments with Puen’s fantasy at the top of ep 6, so I won’t dwell into the specifics of the dialog, but it is a great character moment in how he paints Talay in his fantasy. From our initial reaction, not realizing it was a fantasy until we are brought back out of it, it was that blatent: he loves Talay exactly the way he is. Nothing about Talay felt out of character, which also extended to how their banter played out. Of course, there were moments that made the fantasy obvious, but it got the point across. Our boy is down BAD.

6c. Oh the paradigm shift in ep6 [2/4], you will always be famous - the first instance where Puen starts saying, “my dad’s…” Already laying the groundwork in the upcoming turmoil in wanting to stay. I speak more on this below when I dive more into Puen’s goodbye to Pakorn’s parents. 6d. I often wonder how long Puen has thought about writing that next screenplay about their lives. And I think a lot about the motivation behind it, bringing something so personal into existence. It’s not so different from what writers of all media do normally (which, wow that’s something to think about if Puen eventually steps away from acting to become a screenwriter full time; he’s already a natural at it)

6e. After learning that he truly fell since glass house, i think joob’s death really spooked him. perhaps even moreso that Talay, but we didn’t see it that way when the episode aired. the scene to me played out as a love interest scene at first, but it really is a good romantic lead moment. And then in ep 7, not telling Talay how he feels, while Talay is pushing him towards Pang???

SUNSET ORANGE - before we get started, let’s take another break. Rest your eyes for a minute, drink some water. But also, Scent kink? In my thai bl???

7a. Okay let’s continue - “HASN’T IT EVER OCCURRED TO YOU THAT I’M YOUR PORTKEY?” “IF YOU ARE, WE’D BE BACK BY NOW.” WHY ARE YOU TWO SO LOUD BUT SO STUPID 7b. “People think I’m perfect. I can take care of myself.” Having it be spoken so plainly, instead of show us evidence of this in more flashbacks (rather than seeing that through gyo’s/fans’ eyes… is something). “I’m just a man who can be weak and needs care.” That moment after Talay teases him about it, I COULD KISS IT. He’s taking the necessary baby steps in vulnerability and my son Talay is teasing him… SIGH “Not many see this side of me… You’re one of them.” Just how many people out there has he opened up to, outside of Pang? And how have these people come in and out of his life? Are they all from work?

7c. We now know what he wrote, I’M FINE BTW (lying). The next scene plays out in them having a moment to themselves and Puen steers the conversation to them, but never pressuring him to like him back. In a moment where he can act on his emotions, and Talay wants him to, his final thoughts are always Talay. His wish being the most selfless, unspoken thing… SEDATE ME. He doesn’t just write that he wishes Talay to fall in love with him, but the unspoken intention of giving a piece of his declaration the moment his wish comes true??? His wish isn’t to hear “I love you”, it’s to be able to say “I love you, too.” I am no longer fighting demons, I am sending them my therapy bills and they’re pissed.

7d. [Oh NOOOOOooo the bg music for their almost kiss scene is the same as their glass house reunion scene STAHP] 7e. Jimmy, the actor you are…

7f. Small side tangent, but I wish there were more moments of having the both of them start to pick up habits/mannerism in their scenes together, rather than have it always be recalled in flashbacks (ex: Pang’s scene about the Talay palette and then again in Puen’s flashback to learning about pantone with Talay) 7g. MY PATHETIC WET KITTEN - to me, it’s both an important character moment AND a important trait for a blorbo

Back in Aug, after ep 7 aired, I was discussing the progress of the show with beloved mutual @lulabo and she pointed out how “jimmy’s doing interesting work in that I still don’t know who Puen IS outside his relationship to Talay and so far that hasn’t gone anywhere. he’s SO enigmatic it should be a point of contention” and my response:

Currently, I feel the needle moving a bit since my last response. I still feel strongly about this, however there are several aspects of his work in the month without Talay that reveal his screenwriting and acting produced improvements in the eyes of his peers, due to his time with Friend Credits.

CLOUDY GRAY - 8a. I don’t really see him as a jealous type of person, esp having Mek really having no connection to Talay in their universe. Hmm… Was having one rejection too many really getting to him? Me thinks this was his first trial in this universe fighting to maintain a connection with someone and us witnessing something he has perhaps experienced in his previous life, with people falling out of his orbit. He just wants to be wanted and he’s so CLOSE. 8b. It would at least explain his expression when Talay finally confesses that he likes him. Something something to be chosen again and again. Some of us are single, gmmtv.

MIDNIGHT BLACK - so… that pillow scene

9a. That moment when he was eating by himself - my first real glimpse at a scene of him ALONE alone, perhaps his natural state back home. Did he feel more himself at this moment or did it feel strange? We don’t get many moments where we stay on him for a great length of time, just existing. It was a fleeting moment before we see the birthday scene play out, but i will cherish this small bubble of me meeting this side of him 9b. Their biggest fight, being Puen’s desire to stay, was written as a roadblock for Talay (and so to me, a love interest moment); it was still a character moment for Puen, since it transitions from his birthday scene into them talking about his birthday wish and at the end of the fight, the camera stays on him (instead of following Talay out)

9c. When he gives Talay a piggyback ride without explanation, I think this is when I also fell in love with the character; the show and the writers are finally giving him the depth I was seeking earlier in the series (since we don’t get flashbacks to their former life). If I loved it less, I would be able to talk about it more ;; 9d. I can’t believe up until now, Talay believed that their time together was going to stop once they return to their universe. My son, what.. huh lol do you not understand how down BAD Puen is for you??? SO I ALWAYS THOUGHT - I WANTED TO WAKE UP AND SEE THAT SOMEONE WAS WAITING FOR ME. CAN YOU BE THAT PERSON FOR ME? [………………………… user talaypuens flatlined for a few seconds but shes back] Okay soooooo anyways, that is a Scene. a Scene that doesn’t change the course of everything in this universe and their own. Nope. It’s not like it sets in motion their pinky promise to find each other… or that it improves Puen’s acting career in ways that not only received praise from those in his industry but a moment that Talay needed to hear from him and run back to him. It’s a completely normal, romantic lead scene.

9e. [INCOHERANT SOBBING] EXCUSE ME, DID YOU BUY THAT BEFORE OR AFTER THE PINKY PROMISE; seriously, i need to study his brain.. when the braincells work, they WORK. how did he connect the dots about the theme of an hourglass representing universal travel?? HOW??? Does he know this did psychological damage to my brain when it was explained as a flashback for Talay? PSYCHOLOGMICAL. DANAJ. 9f. We’ve already sang our praises how this reveal played out, but im giving it it’s moment here because i love the editing in the latter part of the series. They included more of Puen’s POV in their scenes together, giving us more glimpses into his thoughts/motivations that we didn’t get earlier on. Getting the screenshots of them in the bathroom… i was fighting demons,,,,, DEMONS

[WHY IS THIS POST SO LONG, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME…. let’s not unpack all that]

PINK - Mek really said get your gay fantasy out of my script fjlskdkfjsl;d Mek can have some rights but also...

10a. The maturity and speed in which Puen reconciles with saying goodbye to the life he loves. I think I seriously love him… I often think about how different this show could have been if the Pakorn family dynamic was the whole of it, in place of the Friend Credits subplot. Of course, we needed to keep the “improving their bodies’ lives” narrative, but as heavy as this scene was, it had potential to just SHATTER ME BEYOND REPAIR. It was more like a treat into a character moment for Puen, rather than a reward for the journey. Since we have sat with the revelation about Puen being orphaned for a short time, we have come to care for Puen long enough to be destroyed by the scene of him saying goodbye to his surrogate universe parents. To somewhat be able to leave them with a soft confirmation that even if he wasn’t Pakorn, they’d still love him, if not more. I SOBSSSS 10b. In the week leading up to ep 11, I fully thought that Puen dreamed and didn’t tell Talay. I also knew this would be so out of character for him, but I wanted to find some meaning for the last scene they had together and what the motivation was behind finally wanting to tell his name. It almost felt like the place they chose to camp at was his dream location and when the big reveal happened for the switch, it made me feel like he ran out of time before leaving. I mean, why else would he himself bring up the dialog “Though we aren’t together tomorrow, you’re always here in my memories” uh…. ow????? and you expect me to think he wasn’t saying goodbye to Talay?

oh gawd i need a moment before diving into Real Red, I - inhales take a moment to stretch your legs again while i have a mild breakdown, maybe do a few neck stretches?

REAL RED - 11a. I need to preface this by giving all of my love to those who made [1/4] all 25+ min of it a POWERHOUSE. The editing between both universes were perfectly balanced in pace, emotional weight, and dialog. There were moments left unspoken that just made my heart SING. I just - MWAH. And it all starts with Puen’s return to their universe and the scene that alone deserves at least 3 oscars for acting, directing, and best foreign language - short subject.

The very first night back in his apartment - I imagine that he didn’t get any sleep and mostly it might be due to missing Talay, but some part of me thinks about the idea of sleeping in a strange place and the difficulty of sleeping in a different bed; could he have felt the same sensation here, after feeling more at home in the other universe? did he ever feel like he was back to sleeping in his own bed?

11b. In my red color analysis post, I took a moment to mention the cubby in Puen’s apartment and how that speaks to his character. That prompted an ask, which created this Puen brick of an analysis post. [We have finally made our way, woo!] That is to say, knowing for weeks that Puen has no one in his life, no personal connections outside of work, speaks to the little corner of praise in his apartment. It’s not organized in any particular way and no item is displayed with more attention than the others. It just is and it’s in plain sight when he w- IS THAT AN ALPACA PLUSHIE??????????? He doesn’t have people over, so it doesn’t need to be hidden or tidy. He doesn’t (often?) throw any of it away, it just appears to accumulate. It is made even more poignant by the positioning of where the hat is on the shelf, just out of sight for two years. He appreciated the gift and placed it in the cubby where all the other love he receives goes and that was that. Good thing he has a really good memory, because that small moment, that token given by a fan’s best friend, that memory brought him home.

11c/11d. He’s done so much in a month, I wonder how much of what he claims to have done was also done by Pakorn. Does it really take less than a month to write, film, record, and premiere a movie? In that time, he’s done so much with Talay written all over it. He’s screenwriting, writing in a scene that he experienced with Talay, he’s singing a song that he learned from Talay, Talay, Talay, Talay. He’s outputting so much of their love into their universe, it’s only right that the universe screams it back. Remember back in my ep 4 pointers, when he said if it wasn’t Talay he would not have worked as well?? Look at how the universe is rewarding him for this love. The cherry on top is having Talay fight to get his life back on track, with it having nothing to do with his feelings or connection to Puen, and it brought them together nevertheless. Puen’s speech even didn’t have any motivation to reach Talay’s ears; he didn’t even think that Talay was there in the building, let alone in their universe. Puen does these things out of so much love, confident that they will be together again someday. I hope he’s also finding some moments of joy in the process. He deserves to get excited about doing all these things, instead of feeling trapped again.

11e/11f. I mentioned above about how the suit seems to change the way Jimmy plays up Puen the actor. Now, I don’t know Jimmy well enough to see if there’s a distinction between actor Puen and actor Jimmy, so I only see Puen. And here, I love seeing how he carries himself in front of Talay, still thinking it’s Tess. There’s something about how he presents himself in front of the face of someone he loves, but knows and acts like it's someone else. I mean, don’t we all act differently in front of different people? But this is Vice Versa, and we are here to witness the shift in Puen when he turns away, saying goodbye to Tess and then turning back around and seeing Talay in his home body. For the first time, AGAIN. HE CRIED, TALAY CRIED, I CRIED, WE ALL CRIED.

I am writing this on the eve of the finale. Who knows Crystal Clear will bring (besides tears because who am i kidding), but this undertaking into Puen as a character was the perfect send off for me. I have seen him, or a version of him, claim something that Puen at the beginning of the series would not have fought as hard to keep. He’s kept people away for so long, not knowing how to ask to be cared for. But I enjoyed seeing that development in seeking Talay out again and again in ep 11, going to Tess over and over. And when he finally stepped back, just letting it be and working until Talay would eventually reach out to him, that restraint too is growth. The confidence in their love… And in loving Talay, where that love will continue to carry into his work until Talay returns, it has already started to make waves in the industry. I am sure future projects will only further his fame and we know it will not change him. Because he’s Puen. I am so happy for him and I love him so dearly.

In conclusion, he’s baby.

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longlistshort · 3 months

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Anne Rothenstein’s beautiful and mysterious paintings are on view at Stephen Friedman Gallery until 6/22/24.

From the gallery’s press release-

Rothenstein’s dreamlike paintings depict expansive landscapes and intimate interiors drawn from memory, personal experiences, and found material from newspapers and magazines. Whether depicting androgynous figures or melancholic landscapes, Rothenstein’s works blur the lines of identity and narrative, inviting observers to immerse themselves in the ambiguity of her creations. Curator and writer Simon Grant aptly describes the experience of viewing Rothenstein’s paintings, “Looking at these paintings can feel as if we have joined a drama that has been unfolding but of which we may have missed the crucial part.”

Rothenstein’s figures are deliberately ambiguous, conjuring introspection and contemplation. While the subdued and pensive demeanor of her characters might convey solitude, they exude a presence that transcends this. In Three Figures (2023), the artist provides a glimpse into the inherent isolation experienced by human beings within a social context. Positioned on the far left, a figure is wearing a reconfigured tuxedo dress, which obscures defined gender and identity. This attire, also observed in Seated Figure and Thinking about Billy Porter (both 2024), serves as a nod to fashion as a form of political expression, drawing inspiration from actor Billy Porter’s ensemble at the 2019 Oscars ceremony. At once, these figures point to new horizons in gender politics while echoing the longstanding tradition of late nineteenth and early twentieth-century portraiture, reminiscent of artists such as Edouard Vuillard and Edvard Munch.

The power behind these works is further evident in the artist’s application of paint, and her distinctive use of color. Throughout the exhibition, burgundy red tones, pale greens, and nostalgic blues emerge and recede to reveal depth and movement. The color palette pays homage to colorists who inspire Rothenstein: Howard Hodgkin, Vilhelm Hammershøi, and Gwen John. In works like Shadow and Heat (both from 2023), the artist rendered two iterations of the same composition. The subtle variations between them evoke the notion of distorted memories resurfacing in our minds. Here, a lone figure and a dog traverse a burning landscape, reflecting concerns about climate change and devastating wildfires. This further evidences how global events influence Rothenstein’s practice: “However much I try to keep the outside world at a distance it always insists on creeping in and often steers the direction the work is taking”.

In her exploration of scale and texture for her New York debut, Rothenstein oscillates between canvas and panel for the first time, introducing a contrast to her signature wood panels. This shift enables the artist to delve deeper into her creative process and further enhance the immersive quality of her work. Through a combination of bold brushstrokes and nuanced color variations, Rothenstein achieves a striking visual harmony, where figures emerge from the surrounding space with a haunting presence. Speaking of Rothenstein’s work, art critic and curator Katy Hessel writes, “When I look at your works, their solitariness comforts me. It’s rare that you see solitude as a happy thing.”

Also on the gallery’s website are the quotes below from Rothenstein that provide additional background on her process-

Speaking of her artistic process, Rothenstein says, “My reasons, or intentions, when making a particular painting are quite mysterious to me. The spark is always lit from an existing image, a photograph or another painting, and I often don’t discover why that image leaped out at me or what it is I’m exploring until the work is finished. Sometimes I never find out. It is almost entirely intuitive. Finding a rhythm, searching for balance, alert to missteps, to what is happening, to changes of direction.

I am telling myself a story much of the time and asking questions. Who is this, where is this place, what is going on? This is what I think of as the noise of a painting. And of course, what I am trying to reach is the silence … There is a wonderful Philip Guston quote: “if you’re really painting YOU walk out.” That is what I mean by reaching the silence.”

#Anne Rothenstein #Stephen Friedman Gallery #Art #Art Shows #Painting #New York Art Shows #NYC Art Shows

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flirting-with-psychology · 9 months

Text

it is raining.

you can see the sunset now.

my birthday is in july.

i have been to the movie theater in the past week.

i have a test in school tomorrow.

people think i’m smart.

i am good at drawing.

i take long showers.

a horror movie has scared me so much that when i’m in the shower, i always have to look outside the curtain to make sure nobody’s there.

thunderstorms scare me.

i never wear a watch.

we have lunch too late in school.

i write on everything with sharpies.

i am an only child.

a bird has somehow gotten inside my house.

i have/had a pet parrot.

i like frozen dinners.

i have curly or wavy hair.

i don’t like my hair but i get compliments about it.

there is no good music on the radio.

i have brown eyes.

munchkins are better than donuts.

jelly munchkins are the best kind.

i like the color green.

i have never broken a bone.

there is a room in my house with reddish walls.

my basement is unfinished.

i never paint my nails.

i’m using an optical mouse.

i have never been to my state’s capital.

i hate it when people say your mom.

i have not eaten for a day straight.

i only do my homework if i feel like it.

i have made a fake screen name just to bug someone.

i have stalked someone.

i’m good at playing pool.

i don’t need an ipod because i still use my portable cd player.

there is a plant in this room.

there is a buddha statue in my house.

i like making charts and graphs to explain things.

i like the font comic sans.

i always use the same font.

i like screaming as loud as i can when no one is around.

i keep track of how many calories i consume daily.

i have multiple striped shirts.

i sometimes wear skinny jeans.

i wear jeans 99% of the time.

i have been in a casino.

i have won money from a scratch ticket.

when websites have counters, i go on and keep refreshing them.

buttons are fun to press.

i am employed.

i have seen a rated r movie in school.

i went to a private elementary school.

i am terrible at singing.

i buy a lot of things on ebay.

i don’t like shopping.

i hate hollister.

when it snows, i sometimes shovel the walkway.

i have a notebook just for doodling and scribbling.

i have more mix cds than regular cds.

i love playing the sims.

i don’t like pie.

i know the number pi up to 10 digits.

i used to live in another country.

i know someone from china.

i can balance a spoon on my nose.

i crack my knuckles a lot.

i can crack my back.

i take piano lessons.

it is some time from 8:00 to 9:00.

i wake up early in the morning.

there is school tomorrow.

i have skipped school because i had nothing to wear.

at hotels, i sneak out at night.

hotels have comfy beds.

i don’t want a boyfriend/girlfriend.

i take showers at night.

i wear the same perfume every day.

my ears aren’t pierced.

gift cards are the best gifts to get.

i have been to alaska.

i hate using mechanical pencils because i never have extra lead.

i have seen a shakespeare play.

i know how many cups are in a quart.

my hair color changes often.

i cut and paste instead of copy and paste.

my birthday is/was this month.

i have a tattoo.

i drink 8 glasses of water every day.

spongebob is funny.

i don’t drink soda a lot.

i can’t roll my tongue.

#survey

0 notes

alsjeblieft-zeg · 10 months

Text

545 of 2023

it is raining.

you can see the sunset now.

my birthday is in july.

i have been to the movie theater in the past week.

i have a test in school tomorrow.

people think i’m smart.

i am good at drawing.

i take long showers.

a horror movie has scared me so much that when i’m in the shower, i always have to look outside the curtain to make sure nobody’s there.

thunderstorms scare me.

i never wear a watch.

we have lunch too late in school.

i write on everything with sharpies.

i am an only child.

a bird has somehow gotten inside my house.

i have/had a pet parrot.

i like frozen dinners.

i have curly or wavy hair.

i don’t like my hair but i get compliments about it.

there is no good music on the radio.

i have brown eyes.

munchkins are better than donuts.

jelly munchkins are the best kind.

i like the color green.

i have never broken a bone.

there is a room in my house with reddish walls.

my basement is unfinished.

i never paint my nails. (lol)

i’m using an optical mouse.

i have never been to my state’s capital.

i hate it when people say your mom.

i have not eaten for a day straight.

i only do my homework if i feel like it.

i have made a fake screen name just to bug someone.

i have stalked someone.

i’m good at playing pool.

i don’t need an ipod because i still use my portable cd player.

there is a plant in this room.

there is a buddha statue in my house. (for sale)

i like making charts and graphs to explain things.

i like the font comic sans.

i always use the same font.

i like screaming as loud as i can when no one is around.

i keep track of how many calories i consume daily.

i have multiple striped shirts.

i sometimes wear skinny jeans.

i wear jeans 99% of the time.

i have been in a casino.

i have won money from a scratch ticket.

when websites have counters, i go on and keep refreshing them.

buttons are fun to press.

i am employed.

i have seen a rated r movie in school.

i went to a private elementary school.

i am terrible at singing.

i buy a lot of things on ebay.

i don’t like shopping.

i hate hollister.

when it snows, i sometimes shovel the walkway.

i have a notebook just for doodling and scribbling.

i have more mix cds than regular cds.

i love playing the sims.

i don’t like pie.

i know the number pi up to 10 digits.

i used to live in another country.

i know someone from china.

i can balance a spoon on my nose.

i crack my knuckles a lot.

i can crack my back.

i take piano lessons.

it is some time from 8:00 to 9:00.

i wake up early in the morning.

there is school tomorrow.

i have skipped school because i had nothing to wear.

at hotels, i sneak out at night.

hotels have comfy beds.

i don’t want a boyfriend/girlfriend.

i take showers at night.

i wear the same perfume every day.

my ears aren’t pierced.

gift cards are the best gifts to get.

i have been to alaska.

i hate using mechanical pencils because i never have extra lead.

i have seen a shakespeare play.

i know how many cups are in a quart.

my hair color changes often.

i cut and paste instead of copy and paste.

my birthday is/was this month.

i have a tattoo.

i drink 8 glasses of water every day.

spongebob is funny.

i don’t drink soda a lot.

i can’t roll my tongue.

#survey #bolding survey #random survey

0 notes

yournameoneverypage · 3 years

Text

Confessions

Shawn x reader.

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: Drinking/drunkenness, blink and you'll miss it angst.

// * // * //

You rested your head back against the front passenger seat of Shawn’s Tesla and closed your eyes. “I drank too much.” He had picked you up from a girls' night out with your friends. You had been ready to go home before the others and Shawn had told you to never hesitate to call him if ever you should need to.

“Just don’t puke in my car,” he snickered. “We’ll be home in ten.”

You rolled your head to the side and met his eyes as he glanced at you. “You really didn’ have to come,” you said softly.

“Of course I did. I wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

“But your friends...”

Shawn had had a few of his friends over at his place that evening. He had chosen to not drink much himself, anticipating a possible call from you.

“It’s just Brian left. He crashes there all the time.”

“When am I gonna meet ’em?”

“When I’m ready to share you with them,” he smirked.

“’m yours,” you whispered, small smile on your lips, and closed your eyes again.

The thought of you being his made his heart skip.

// * // * //

Once in the elevator, you placed your hand on Shawn’s shoulder for balance and slipped off your heels. You exhaled in relief. “That’s better.”

He took your shoes in his own hand and when the elevator door opened, he said, “Hold on to me, honey.”

You bubbled, “’m not so drunk I can’t walk!”

“I beg to differ. You almost bit it getting out of the car,” he teased.

“You have good reflexes,” you said, wrapping both of your arms around his bicep as you started down the hall.

Stopping in front of your door, Shawn asked, “Where are your keys, Sweetheart?”

“In here. Somewhere,” you mumbled, letting go of him to dig through your clutch.

“Give it here. I’ll find them.” Cell, cash, credit card, dark pink tinted cherry lip balm, a-ha, keys, and, “Condoms? I didn’t think you were that kind of girl.” He smirked, trying to conceal the disappointment in his voice.

“’m not but the twins are,” you giggled.

It shouldn’t have mattered if the condoms had belonged to you. Still, Shawn found himself profoundly relieved.

Unlocking the door and stepping inside, he set your heels on the shoe rack and hung your clutch from a wall hook.

He led you to the kitchen and made you sit on one of the stools at the island. “Let’s get some food in you. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

You watched intently as Shawn cut an avocado, removed the pit, and scooped out the flesh. He mashed it and added small pinches of garlic, sea salt, and pepper and then put two slices of whole grain bread in the toaster.

“I haven’ been drunk since college... "I do stupid things when I’m drunk.”

“We all do stupid things when we’re drunk,” he chuckled, taking a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water.

He was about to pass it to you when you said, abruptly, “I kissed some guy at the club.”

He lost his grip on the glass. It hit the ground with a crash and shattered.

“Shit.”

“Lemme help,” you said, starting to move from the stool.

“No, you need to stay right there while I clean up. I don’t want you to get hurt.” He laid a dishtowel over the mess before retrieving a new glass and trying again. This time he successfully placed it before you, followed by a slice of avocado toast. “Eat.”

You ate dutifully while Shawn sopped up the water and swept up the glass. He found a post-it and wrote:

No bare feet in the kitchen!

He stuck it right where you would see it in the morning. He wasn’t sure if he’d gotten all the slivers.

Shawn polished off the second piece of avocado toast himself while leaning elbows and forearms on the kitchen island across from you. “Finish your water too, angel.”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whispered.

He smiled tenderly. “You would do the same for me. Now, come on. Time for bed.”

He followed closely behind you as you made your way to the master bedroom. It would be the first time he had been in your room; he was undeniably curious. He slipped his slides off just outside the bedroom door and crossed the threshold.

It was a stunning space. King-sized, hard maple, canopy bed, likely custom made, with matching bedroom furniture. The bed rested on a large rug which felt ridiculously plush beneath his bare feet. Above the low-rise dresser hung a 50” flat screen television.

Shawn was pulled from his perusal when he heard you apologize. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I feel guilty.”

“For what?”

“For kissing someone else.”

“You can kiss whoever you want, babe.”

“’cept you,” you sighed. “He wasn’ even a good kisser. Too sloppy. Too eager.”

“Of course he was eager. You are gorgeous. And darling, in this dress...”

“Which I can’t wait to get outta.” You reached behind you and started to unzip it.

“Whoa,” Shawn said, spinning away, flushing.

You giggled and hiccupped. “I’m not gonna get naked in fron’a you! I just need outta this damn dress! Help me!”

He stepped up behind you and moved your hair to the side.

While he slid the zipper all the way down to where it stopped at the dimples above the swell of your bottom, you confessed, "He coulda been your twin. Or maybe I jus’ saw your face in his ’cause you’re always in my head.”

Before Shawn could even digest that, your dress fell from your body to the floor. He groaned softly. You were wearing a blush colored, lace, strapless bra and matching thong panties. He looked up at the ceiling and breathed deeply. This would be an inappropriate time to get aroused, but damn if you didn’t have the most amazing body he had ever seen.

Suddenly unsteady, you swayed on your feet. You reached out to grab the bedpost, almost missing it, but Shawn was there to catch you, again.

He chuckled. “I need you to sit down so I can find you something to wear to bed without worrying about you faceplanting.”

“I should take a shower.”

“In the morning, love. I’m afraid you’ll stumble in the tub and hurt yourself.”

“I gotta’least wash my face an’ brush my teeth.”

Shawn stood beside you, holding your hair back, while you scrubbed your face pink and brushed your teeth. He then had you sit on the chair at your small vanity while he went to choose something from your dresser drawers.

He returned with a pair of white boy short underwear with rainbow hearts all over them and a white racerback tank top.

“I like these,” you said about the boy shorts. “But I don’ want this.” You handed the top back to him.

“What do you want instead?”

“Can I wear your shirt? It’ll smell like you an’ I’d really love that.” He was wearing a simple white button-down.

“You’re lucky I’m wearing a tank top underneath, and that I have a hard time saying no to you,” he chuckled, undoing the only three buttons that were fastened, slipping it from his shoulders, and handing it to you. He then waited on the other side of the door to give you privacy to change.

You exited the bathroom, thankfully seeming to be a little more stable on your feet. He bit softly on his bottom lip; he liked how you looked in his shirt.

“Come on, babe. Into bed.”

You crawled to the very middle of the mattress. He retrieved the brush from your dresser and positioned himself behind you. He gently brushed your hair out before loosely braiding it. That way, should you wake up sick, at least your hair would be out of the way.

When he had finished, you glanced back at him over your shoulder. “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known,” he said softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Then why don’t you want me?” you whispered.

He kissed your shoulder and breathed in the scent of your soft, warm skin mingling with the smell of himself from his shirt. His heart began thumping in his ears. You probably wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning, which made him braver than he would be otherwise.

“I want you, more than you can imagine, and that scares me,” he murmured. “You were…unexpected. You walked into my life and turned my world upside down so quickly; it’s making me question everything. I feel unbalanced around you.”

“’m sorry, I didn’mean to.”

“I wouldn’t wish it any different,” he smiled tenderly.

Shawn helped you settle under the covers and retrieved a glass of water and two ibuprofens to set on the nightstand beside the bed. He also moved a small wastebasket to within arms’ reach.

He crouched down to level himself with you and gently asked, “Do you really want to kiss me?”

You exhaled, your words almost imperceptible, “Every damn day.”

He took a deep breath. “If you remember any part of our conversation tomorrow, I’ll let you,” he promised. “Damn the consequences.”

// * // * //

@mendesblurb @benito-mi-vida

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fiction #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x you

241 notes · View notes

pascalpanic · 4 years

Text

Drunk Words (Frankie Catfish Morales x f!Reader)

Drunk Words / Sober Thoughts part one of two

Summary: Frankie’s drunk off his ass and needs a ride home. PART ONE of a two part Frankie fic

W/C: 2.7k+

Warnings: language, copious amounts of alcohol, Frankie is absolutely shitfaced

A/N: THANK U TO MY BABE @sanchosammy for this idea!!! I love it so much I fuckin LOVE my baby frankie

As you roll over in bed, you groan. You’ve been up for about 20 minutes now, unable to return to the blissful sleep that had been enveloping you before. The time on your watch now reads 3:07. You frown and grab your phone, lying on your side. The light is bright enough to make you squint, and you smile at the text thread you’ve received from Frankie tonight.

The man brings nothing but happiness to your life. You really do love Frankie, not just platonically. You want to hold his big and strong hands, want to lift up his ball cap and kiss him on the forehead, want to fluff the hat hair he always gets from that Standard Oil cap. More than anything, you want to softly kiss that little patch in his beard. It’s just existing there, perfectly clean even when he’s almost at a full beard. His tough fingers scratch it and you giggle, looking away when he asks what’s so funny. Nothing, Fish, you immediately reply. Fishie, if you’re feeling a little more flirtatious.

Frankie might be feeling the same, you’ve noticed lately. He’s a little more touchy with you. He hugs you longer than the other men, makes you dance with him when a good song comes on. He lets it happen when you steal his ball cap and wear it, where he’d scold and smack any of the other men for it. He lends you his flannel when you’re cold, wrapping it gingerly around your shoulders.

It’s been a long time that you’ve been friends now. Just recently, you’ve come to appreciate him differently. The way he hugs you warms your heart still, but it makes your heart race and your hands sweat. It makes you want to lift your face from where it rests in his neck and kiss him softly, your fingers working into that little bald patch on his jaw.

Even now, as he’s clearly drunk, you adore him. How can you not?

Frankie 🚁: attachment: one image

You open the photo and laugh. It’s a blurry selfie of Frankie, an arm draped over Santiago’s shoulders. The two men make faces like they’re going to bite the other, and it makes you chuckle aloud. You can see his fluffy curls peeking out from beneath the cap, and you desperately want to play with them. The image is blurry, showing that it must’ve been moving while he took it.

Frankie 🚁: missing u tonight, Santiago says he doesn’t like me when you’re not around

Frankie 🚁: holy fuck their new beer is really good, you gotta try it soon

Frankie 🚁: lol I fuckin love the nachos here

Frankie 🚁: snati is so annoying, pls get him away from me

Frankie 🚁: u r probably sleep sorry :((((

Frankie 🚁: can we got o a zoo soon?? I wanna see animals 🦫🐈🐕‍🦺🦡

You laugh out loud at the words, at Frankie’s terrible typing. He must be shitfaced. He’s hilarious when he’s drunk.

The last text was only four minutes ago.

Me: Alright, Fishie. Stop drinking and eat something. No more beer.

Frankie 🚁: ha I’m drinking that Coffey shit… Kalua?? isk but it’s so gooood

Your phone rings, filling the screen with your profile picture of Frankie. It’s a photo of him smiling, his dimple evident. Your cheek is pressed to his, grinning just as wide. God, he’s so fucking cute. You love him so much.

You take a second and stare at the photo before pressing the answer button and putting it on speaker. “Hey, Fish.”

“Hey,” he laughs, dragging the word out long and slow. “S’a shame you weren’t here, Will’s been buying all night.” His words are slurred and woozy. You can hear the roar of the bar behind him.

“Ah, so that’s why you’re shitfaced,” you laugh into the phone.

“Precisely,” he slurs, a smile clear in his voice. “I can’t drive.”

“I’m glad you realize that. What do you want me to do about that? I can have an Uber coming your way in ten minutes.”

“Will you pick me up?” He asks, his voice like a child’s. “Fuckin’ Ubers cost money, ‘n I just wanna see your pretty face.”

“Frankie,” you warn but feel your body warm at the notion.

“You got a cute little nose,” he laughs. “Just wanna boop it. Can I boop it? Just go… boop, boop boop. Right on the nose.”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. You’re so fucking lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Thank you,” he practically sings. “See you then. Mwah.”

You throw on a hoodie and walk to your car, not caring to cover up your patterned flannel shorts that you sleep in. Your hair is messy, you don’t have makeup on, you don’t really give a shit. It’s Frankie.

Once you reach the bar, you shoot him a text, and the four men stumble outside. “Yo!” Benny calls and rushes over to you. It’s clear his normal balance has left his body for the night, his body a little wobbly. He’s an excited drunk. He slams on your window until you lower it. “Hey, you missed out on a good time,” he grins. His words blur together too.

Frankie follows behind him, an arm thrown across him. He’s still got a little balance. “Missed you so much, cariño. Santi’s being an ass.”

You look up at Will. “These fuckers need a ride too?” He’s the responsible one of the men, even when intoxicated.

He shakes his head. “Got an Uber coming. They’re staying at my place tonight.”

Frankie puts a hand on the car to steady himself. “Knew you’d come. Pretty girl always comes through for me, even at 3 A.M., thank you,” he slurs happily, his eyes half open.

Santiago leans against your car. “Hey gorgeous. We missed you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes. “Get the grizzly bear in the car.”

Frankie laughs at the words. “Ooh, I like that. Big and fluffy but murderous.”

“I’m about to get murderous if you don’t get in the car right now, Francisco Morales.”

“Oh, snap!”

“Shit, man.”

Benny gives a whistle. The men all make noises in commentary and laugh, Will opening the door. Frankie flops down inside. Benny ensures that all of his limbs have made it in and shuts the door. “Don’t party too hard with him tonight,” Santiago calls and you roll your eyes.

The two of you drive off and out of the bar parking lot.

“Hey, Fish,” you say, snapping your fingers in front of his face. “Buckle up. I’m not getting in trouble for your dumb ass.”

“You always do, though,” he mumbles and tilts his head to look at you. “You’re so good to me.”

“I’m a fucking saint,” you sigh sarcastically. “Seriously, buckle up. If you can’t do it yourself, we’re going to the ER for alcohol poisoning.”

“No,” he whines and pouts at you. “Just wanna be close to you. Wanna just…” he trails off and rests his head against your shoulder. “Mm. There. Your skin is so soft.”

“That’s my hoodie, Frankie.”

He takes a deep breath in through his nose, the scent clicking in his addled brain. “No, that’s my hoodie.”

He’s right, you realize. You grabbed a random sweatshirt and pulled it on before leaving. You’re the one who’s always cold at gatherings, leaving Frankie to share one of his many layers with you. You smile a bit. “It’s comfy.”

“I like it better on you. I really like you in my clothes, you know that? Wear them way better than I can. You just look so cute and so little.”

“Frankie, I’m 5’9,” you refute and glare down at him, where he looks up at you with puppy-dog mocha-colored eyes.

“Just look so small in ‘em. I’m like 6’0, you know that.”

“I do know that, Francisco. You remind us all the time,” you laugh, removing his ball cap and tossing it into his lap. “Still shorter than Benny. Get that hat off and I think you’re shorter than Santi.”

“I’m taller than him,” Frankie whines at the reminder. “How come Benny’s the baby and he’s so tall? He’s like a fuckin’ giraffe up there, can never see his stupid face,” he pouts.

“He’s too tall for comfortable hugs,” you nod in agreement. “And Santi is too short. And Will is too fucking awkward,” you laugh. You purposely leave out the bit about how perfect hugs from Frankie are, how much you dream about them and crave them.

His dark brows furrow as he looks up at you with glazed eyes. “Wha’bout me?”

The car stops for a moment as a light in front of you turns red. You smile down at him and push his messy curls from his forehead. “I like hugging you. You’re comfy.”

“Ha, grizzly bear hugs,” he slurs. “Y’should call me that more often. I like it when you call me things the boys don’t. Makes me feel tingly,” he laughs, lovestruck as he looks up at you.

“Tingly?”

“Yeah, like when they put the meds in before they steal your teeth.”

“Steal your teeth?” You laugh loudly, toying with one of the curls. “Do you mean get a tooth removed?”

“Same thing. I don’t like it when they do it then. I like it when you call me stuff though. Fishie makes me laugh and feel happy.”

“Oh yeah?” God, he’s so fucking precious. He looks at you like a puppy stares at their owner, pure and unadulterated love radiating from them. “I’ll need to call you Fishie more often then.”

It’s quiet for a while. Frankie’s head still rests against your shoulder. He can feel all of the tiny muscles move as you steer and navigate the car. He likes the way they move, making his drunken head even more floaty. After a few moments, he shifts to lean against the car door, just watching you.

The music drifting from the radio is soft and quiet. You almost think Frankie’s fallen asleep, since he’s so quiet, but you look over and see him gazing over at you. “Penny for your thoughts, Fish.”

You’re expecting something stupid. Frankie is quite the philosopher when he’s drunk, always asking odd rhetorical questions. ‘Is a muffin an unfrosted cupcake?’ has always been a favorite of his. He’s never quite made up his mind about it, waxing poetic about the difference in the two baked goods.

He always says something stupid, but this time, his sober thoughts become his drunken words. “You’re the most absolute prettiest woman I’ve ever seen,” he smiles at you, those pink lips curled into a soft smile. It shows off his dimple, and you want to scream from how cute he looks. One of his big hands reaches over and cups your face.

“You’re drunk,” you shake your head, looking back at the road. “Don’t be stupid.”

“No, I mean yeah. Kinda drunk and really stupid, ha, but I mean it. You’re so fuckin’ pretty, cariño.” The backs of his fingers trace across the side of your face, resting on the side of your neck now.

You look down at yourself, still skeptical. “No, I know what you’re gonna say,” he pouts, beating you to the punch. “You’re in your pajamas and your hair is all messy ‘n whatever, but you’re so pretty. Your face is so cute. I love your nose. Just wanna…” he leans over and makes good on his promise for earlier. “Boop,” he coos as he pokes the tip of your nose, smiling wide. “You’re so cute. The guys make fun’a me because I never shut up about it.”

“Oh really?” you ask, raising an eyebrow and laughing.

“Yeah. Santi says I’m in love with you,” he murmurs, sitting back against the car window.

You gulp as you force yourself to grip the steering wheel harder, staring at the white dashes separating the two-lane road. “Yeah? What do you have to say on the matter?”

“I’m kinda thinkin’ he might be right.” His voice is small and quiet.

You shake your head again, eyes watering from the honesty. There’s no way he can think that. He’s shitfaced. He doesn’t mean it, there’s no way. He’s never been more than a friend, done anything to indicate romance.

Or… maybe he has, you reflect. He pays for your drinks most nights. He’ll order something you want and share it with you. He’s always a little touchier than he is with the boys. “You don’t mean that,” you say quietly, swallowing hard.

Whatever common sense he has left tells him to be quiet, so he does. He sits there silently for the rest of the drive, the tension palpable between the two of you. When you finally reach his house and park, you hold your breath. You don’t know what to do, what to say, but you can’t just let him go inside without saying anything. He sits up a little straighter as he realizes he’s come to a stop.

You bite your lip and look over at him. “I should help you inside.”

He nods and you turn off the car, putting the key in the pocket of your hoodie. You get out and walk to Frankie’s side, opening his door. He reaches his arms out to you and you chuckle a little. He looks like a helpless little child.

“Alright, grizzly bear,” you grunt as he swings his feet out and you help lift him to his feet. His arms cling to you tight until he’s standing up.

“Thanks,” he murmurs and wraps an arm around your shoulder when he’s upright.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you chuckle.

Using you as a crutch, he walks alongside you and into his house. He fumbles with the key until you open it for him, then lock it behind you. He leads the way to his room, opening the door and sighing as he sees his bed.

“Not yet,” you say as he tries to get to the bed. “Come on.” You pull his flannel off, leaving him in the t-shirt underneath. “Okay, go on.” He flops down onto his bed with a happy noise. Once he’s down, you unlace his boots and pull them off, then his socks.

Standing at his side, you undo his belt. “Woah,” he laughs. “‘M way too drunk for that, pretty girl. Kinda wanna though.”

“Shut the fuck up, Fish,” you laugh and thread it through the loops, tossing it aside. “I’m getting your clothes off so you can sleep.”

“Oh,” he sighs, giggling drunkenly as you pull his pants off. “Kinda feels like we’re gonna fuck.”

“Maybe another time,” you tease and pull the covers over him. Pushing his curls from his face, you softly kiss his cheek. “Call me when you’re sober, okay?”

He frowns and grabs the hand on his face with both of his rough palms. “Don’t leave me,” he pouts.

“Frankie,” you sigh and look at your watch. “It’s 3:35 in the goddamn morning.”

“Then stay the night,” he begs. “You said you like hugging me. I want you to hug me all night long,” he sighs, kissing your fingertips. You smile softly. It’s a good offer, you have to admit. He makes it even harder to say no. “I won’t be able to sleep if you’re not here when I wake up.”

“Lots of things can happen while you’re asleep, Fishie. I can-”

“Mm, Fishie,” he says with a smile, his eyes fluttering closed. “Come snuggle with me, pretty girl.”

You sigh as you look at the man. It’s not like you haven’t spent time pressed into his side, watching a sports game or a movie. You and Frankie are affectionate friends. He looks so warm and inviting, his body radiating heat. “Fine,” you give in. “Only because I’m cold.”

“Not ‘cause you like me too?” he asks and rolls over, leaving room for you.

“We can discuss that when you’re sober.” The spot he laid is warm and cozy, his body heat making it perfect for you. You slide under the covers next to him and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

Frankie presses a sloppy kiss to your head, smiling. You can hear his slow and steady heartbeat. “G’night cariño,” he mumbles, lips still buried in your hair.

“Goodnight, Frankie,” you whisper.

He falls asleep almost instantly, and you’re close behind him. You’ve never been more at peace than when you fall asleep in Frankie Morales’s arms.

read part two: SOBER THOUGHTS

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867

#frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales headcanons #frankie morales headcanons #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #catfish morales x reader #catfish morales #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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misterghostfrog · 4 years

Photo

[IMAGE ID; a digital drawing of Martin Blackwood carrying Jonathan Sims from The Magnus Archives. Martin is a fat freckled white man with curly ginger hair that is shaved close at the sides. He has a pair of round framed glasses in a bright red, under the glasses he is wearing eyeliner, and a navy eyeshadow. He has black lipstick, two black snakebite piercings under his lip, and a small black nostril piercing. His ear has a large black piercing that cuffs a chain to a small black piercing higher up his ear, and one final black piercing in the middle. He has a black choker, and then a looser chain necklace with an eye ornament on it. He has a studded lather jacket on that is covered in multiple patches and pins, mostly hidden by Jon: of the visible pins there is a trans flag patch on his chest, and on his shoulder is a large dark colored patch that has A-C-A-B on it in white. Under the Jacket is a black shirt that he has partly tucked into his pants, the shirt has a large anarchy symbol drawn on it in red. Under that he is wearing jeans that are significantly ripped as far as we can see. On his right hand he has several black rings, and his nails are painted black. Jon is a skinny Jordanian man with brown eyes and shoulder-length grey-streaked dark brown hair pulled back into a messy ponytail at the base of his neck. He has a beard beginning to grow that appears to be the product of forgetting to shave. He is covered in a series of small round scars that vary in exact size. He is wearing a pair of rectangle-framed glasses, a plain t-shirt, a pair of jeans that are ripped at the knee, and converse. Martin is carrying Jon bridal style in his arms, and is looking away, he is blushing, though his expression is concerned and appears to be speaking. Jon has his arms wrapped around Martins neck, his cheeks are darkened and he is staring at hte ground with an expression somewhere between fear and the face one makes when they’re having to retrace every step they’ve taken to get here. END ID]

Punk Martin but make it Jonmartin.

Also I wrote a lil thing to go along with this under the cut, its only barely edited because it was mostly for fun so be warned its a big ol mess! But its s2 jonmartin nonsense with Martin being very cool and attractive and Jon being seven layers deep in denial (Also I may have written Jon as a touch autistic because its projection hours tonight i’m too sleepy to mask and that goes for writing too babey)

(Mentions of worms, past injuries, and Jon dealing with some internalised ableism and general foolishness)

Jon forgot his cane.

It’s a relatively regular occurrence, for a multitude of reasons. For one thing it’s something of a recent addition to the list of things he needs to keep track of when he leaves the house. Another lovely parting gift from Prentiss, a worm in his left leg that went just quick enough to start burrowing into the bone before it was removed.

For another, he really has other things to worry about. And if it doesn’t hurt, it shouldn’t matter. Most days he can get by just fine without it- it hurts of course. But not so much he can’t support himself, and really, does he need it otherwise?

Martin and Tim don’t seem to agree, though Sasha has kept respectfully to herself on the whole business. Martin, of course, he trusts. Albeit only recently. But that doesn’t make him right, his priorities are warped. Naturally. He doesn’t see the bigger picture.

(or at least that’s what Jon tells himself)

Which is what leads to this moment, sitting on a bench outside the shop, single grocery bag by his feet. He’d only run out to get a few things, but somewhere between the his flat the the shop his barely visible limp had become more pronounced as his hip began to throb, then he was halfway through the frozens when he realized he wasn’t going to be able to finish the trip. After that he’d barely made it through checkout to the nearest seat before all but collapsing into it.

And now he’s sitting, stuck. An insurmountable walk from home, without his stupid cane. Which, he notes, he wouldn’t need if he’d brought in the first place. Funny how that works.

“Jon?” A familiar voice jolts him out of his thoughts. Jon jolts upright. Martin.

He knows Martin lives in the area, a side effect of his... investigations. Though he was unaware he used the same shop. He looks up, a greeting or perhaps a question on his lips that dies as soon as he actually lays eyes on Martin.

Martin is wearing a leather jacket. Not just a leather jacket of course, but that’s the first thing Jon can process. He’s wearing a studded leather jacket covered in various patches that advertise various opinions and identities that Jon doesn’t have time to think about. His jeans are about as much rip as they are Jean, and he’s got piercings- and eyeliner. he’s dressed like he should be riding a motorcycle, not the beat-up red bike he’s got beside him.

“Are you alright?” Martin says, and Jon realizes he’s been staring.

“Are you going to a costume party?” Jon blurts instead of answering. A costume party would make sense, of course. Martin doesn’t dress like this, he dresses like- like-

It occurs to him dimly that he’s never encountered Martin outside of work, at least never in a scenario that would allow him to change out of his work clothes. And some part of him has always assumed that sweaters and khakis were simply how he dressed. It suited him, really. Or Jon had assumed, but then again he assumed anything familiar is suiting.

“Wh- A- no?” Martin answers, looking vaguely offended. Jon flushes.

“I- sorry, I just- I’ve... I didn’t think you seemed the type to dress... like that...?” Jon fumbles, pathetically trying to salvage the conversation. Judging by Martins expression, he’s failing.

Martin opens his mouth to say something, and Jon realizes there’s likely no coming back from this particular mortification. He snatches the bag by his feet and moves to stand. Some excuse already tumbling out when the reason for his sit-down, which had dulled to a shockingly forgettable throb, decides to remind him of his place in the world.

He lets out a cry of pain, and crumples. Only stopped from hitting the ground by a pair of arms that wrap around his chest and under his shoulder.

“Oh my god, Jon. Are you alright- what- is it your leg? Where’s your cane-” Martin babbles, Gently replacing Jon on his bench as Jon breathes through gritted teeth.

“It’s fine- i’m fine Martin I-” he sighs, studiously avoiding Martins gaze. “My cane is at home.” He tries not to sound chastised as he says the last part- he shouldn’t have to after all. He’s still Martins boss. He shouldn’t be looking away like he’s been caught at something.

“Jon” Martin sounds exasperated, and Jon crosses his arms. Once again, nothing like someone being scolded. He’s not being scolded. He’s an adult. “How long have you been sitting here like this?”

“I...” Jon begins before trailing off, he’s not actually sure. The period between sitting on the bench and the pain dulling enough for him to think through the fog is something is a blur. He is pretty sure someone asked if he was alright at some point. His lack of answer seems to be enough for Martin though.

“Just give me a moment.” He says, stepping away from Jon over to his bike- which has fallen over onto the ground -pulling it upright and over to Jon on the bench. He pushes down the rusted kickstand with a hearty kick- and Jon briefly notes he’s wearing steel-toed boots -and sets the bike gently upright.

“Okay, so! If you sit on the bike I can push it, and you can get home and rest that leg without jostling it too much by trying to walk without your cane.” He says pointedly. Jon makes a face,

“This... this really isn’t necessary Martin- I’m perfectly capable-” He grumbles, waving a hand dismissively. But a glance at Martins expression shuts him up quick.

“Do you think you can stand?” He asks. Jon pauses, the memory of the white-hot flash of pain still fresh in his mind. He grimaces, shaking his head. Martin hums thoughtfully. “Alright, would you be alright if I picked you up? Just for a moment to get you on the bike” He asks carefully.

Jon hesitates, looking between Martin and the bike. And weighs his options. After several seconds he nods. Martin smiles, and Jon feels something in his chest flutter. Anxiety at his decision most likely. Or perhaps nerves in relation to sitting on a bike, he’s never ridden one- of course Martin will be doing all the work but surely there’s some sort of balance required isn’t there? Really he shouldn’t be riding a bike like this-

Those thoughts are all swept away at the feeling of large warm hands gently scooping him off the bench. He instinctively throws his arms around Martins neck for support as he’s lifted into the air.

He can feel Martins chest warm against his side as Martin holds him close, one hand on his shoulder and the other supporting his legs. He’s being cradled by his subordinate, carefully as so not to jostle his leg. And all he can think about is how warm Martin is. He’s large and soft despite all the sharper accessories and he smells a bit like leather and tea on top of whatever soap he uses. Probably something that Jon wouldn’t be able to name with a gun to his head. And Jon can see the freckles on Martins cheeks and neck close enough to count if he wanted to even as he looks away, saying something Jon can’t quite parse because he’s too busy reeling from the realization he’d be happy to sit in Martins arms like this for the rest of his life.

His face goes hot and he forces himself to look down at the ground. The pain is clearly messing with his head, or perhaps the sleep deprivation. Or perhaps he’s still riding the high from that moment of realization that Martin isn’t trying to kill him, that he can trust him.

Either way he’s not thinking straight, which is why he’s dissapointed instead of relieved when Martin gently places him on the bike with the exact amount of care he took in picking him up. Which shouldn’t make him feel so oddly jittery but it does.

The ride is quiet, aside from awkward instructions from Jon on where to turn as Martin guides them carefully along the sidewalk. They miss a turn once because Jons too preoccupied with the feeling of Martins arm bumping against his shoulder as he guides the bike.

And then they’re at Jons flat, and Jon once again feels that misplaced disappointment. He wonders if perhaps Martin will carry him up to his flat, and his face burns again as the silliness of the thought hits him.

Martin does very, very briefly lift him to help him off the bike when he stumbles. But his leg has recovered enough that he can make it up to his flat without assistance, or so he tells Martin. Who looks unconvinced.

“Let me at least walk with you, yea? That way I know for sure you got home safe.” He insists, and Jon forced himself to be displeased with the situation.

It ends up being a good thing Martin came along though, a partway up the steps the railing is no longer enough to support Jon, and he ends up half-carried the rest of the way. Martins arm under his shoulder, his own loops around Martins back, gripping the jacket for support. He can feel his head drifting at the contact- Martin is just so damned warm and safe and Martin it’s impossible not to get distacted.

He forces himself to think about something else, anything else. The jacket- he can feel the leather under his fingertips and it’s as good distraction as any.

It’s a nice jacket, really. Clearly well-worn. And it does suit Martin, in an odd sort-of way.

Jon winces internally, remembering the conversation from earlier. He hadn’t meant to come off so... well. It doesn’t matter. Except that it does, even though it doesn’t, but it does.

Once they reach Jons door, he pushes off of Martin to lean on the wall while he fumbles for his keys. Martin lingers as he does so, twiddling his thumbs awkwardly in the silence.

Jon finds his keys and sighs in relief as the door swings open.

He nearly wanders inside and shuts the door before remembering basic human etiquette. He pauses in the doorway, turning to Martin. Who smiles awkwardly.

“Thank you.” He says stiffly, still leaning heavily on the doorframe. “That was... very kind. Of you.” Martin shakes his head.

“It’s nothing, really. Couldn’t exactly just leave you there, could I?”

Jon shifts awkwardly, wincing at the brief weight on his leg. He’s right of course, morally at least. If not logically.

“I... I suppose not.” He says, hesitating before adding “I’m sorry.”

“Look, Jon. I already said it’s fine-”

“No-” Jon grimaces “not for that. I- I meant... for what I said. About your clothes. They don’t... I just- I didn’t expect it, and I may have come off as... rude.” He mutters

“Oh.” Martin says flatly, Jons sure he’d forgotten about that until just now, and he wishes he could have kept it that way.

“they do suit you, though.” He says, after an awkward pause. “Your clothes, I mean. It looks- you look nice.” he finishes as genuinely as he can- he does mean it. Of course, he just doesn’t know how to make it sound like he does.

“Oh” Martin says again, brightening slightly, his cheeks going blotchy red in a blush. “I- er- thank you...? I suppose?”

“Yes. Well. Your welcome, I suppose.” There’s another awkward pause, Martin isn’t quite smiling at Jon, but there’s something soft in his expression Jon can’t quite parse. “ Have a good day, Martin.” He says finally, after a long pause. Martins cheeks redden again.

“Oh- yeah, er. You too Jon- and take care of yourself. Alright?”

Jon nods, and Martin smiles. And Jon thinks he’d like to see Martin smile a bit more.

He waves as Martin heads down the stairs, he can hear Martin humming as he goes.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #jmart #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #punk martin #fic #art #fanfic #fanart #ghostly doodle #ghostly doodles #Jons a mess!#and Martin has cool fashions #ghostly scribbles

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sacredsorceress · 4 years

Text

Paint || Peter Parker

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: peter sees a figure walking through the trees during his run and investigates only to meet a girl named y/n painting in the woods.

a/n: requested by anon! a short and sweet meeting story.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none, fluff

masterlist || request

Peter was almost regretting his decision to join the Avengers at the moment. Nearly getting himself killed dozens of times by adversaries was nothing compared to the run Cap had him and the other Avengers going on in what he considered to be the middle of nowhere. Although he had superhuman abilities that had definitely aided in his run at the beginning, he could feel himself struggling for air and his legs beginning to ache.

A few of the others had already fallen behind a while back and Peter felt himself about to trip over his own feet as he began to run slower.

“Getting tired?” None other than Steve himself asked, running up behind him.

Peter jumped, but then began to push himself to run faster. “N-no. No sir.” Peter huffed. “This... is... easy.”

Cap eyed Peter. “You should take a breather, kid. There’s no harm in that.”

Although Peter was always one to go out of his way to impress the Avengers- especially Captain America- he could barely breathe and his whole body felt like it was just begging for him to take a break.

“A- are you... sure?” Peter asked in between breaths.

“You know your way back?” Steve asked, matching Peter’s pace.

Peter, running out of breath, no longer able to speak just nodded.

“Alright kid. I’ll see you back at the Compound.”

And with that, he picked up his pace, leaving Peter behind. Peter slowed to a stop and doubled over with his hands on his knees, heaving and struggling for breath. He attempted to salute in Cap’s direction, but he had already run past Peter’s point of view.

Still breathing heavy and exhausted, Peter stumbled over to the side of the road and flopped down on his back onto the grass. He turned his head to the side and as he did he saw a figure making their way through the trees.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “H- hey!” He called, but no one answered.

Peter pulled himself up, balancing himself on his elbows to get a better look before calling again. “Hello?”

After he once again did not receive an answer, he pulled himself onto his feet. He questioned whether he really did see someone or if the figure was just a figment of his imagination. He was unable to ask any of the others for reassurance since they either fell behind a while ago or they were ahead with Steve. Deciding to trust this own instincts, Peter began walking through the woods, using his “Peter tingle” as Aunt May liked to call it, to know where to go.

He stopped when he heard the snap of a twig and the rustling of leaves. Following the noise, he carefully walked over the branches scattered across the ground, not trying to alarm whoever he had just followed into the woods. As he approached where the noise had come from, he stopped and attempted to hide himself behind a tree.

In front of him he saw a girl pulling a chair up and off from the top of a table, onto the ground. He watched as she sat down in the chair, opening the bag at her side and pulling out a pad of paper, along with a tray of what he assumed to be paint and brushes.

He knew he probably should have turned around and that this was an invasion of privacy, but he couldn’t help but watch as she painted. He was lured in by how peaceful she seemed. Around them was a peaceful quiet, with only the sounds of birds and the breeze flowing through the trees able to be heard.

It was so much different than what he had been used to. Even before he discovered that he had superpowers, he had lived in the city and there seemed to never be a moment of complete silence- from sirens at all hours of the day to groups of people chatting outside his window at all hours of the night. He thought he had found peace in the noise, but he had barely known the peacefulness of quiet.

Now that he was Spider-Man, it was even harder to find peace whether he was in the city protecting locals or tagging along with the Avengers to save humanity. He was so busy all of the time, it was difficult for him to find peace and quiet, never mind the serenity he felt around him in this exact moment.

Just as he was becoming lost in his own thoughts, he was pulled out of them by the snapping of a twig beneath his feet. As he did, his eyes went wide and he watched as the unnamed girl, jumped from her seat to her feet, scattering brushes and papers along the ground.

He threw his hands up in the air. “I’m sorry!” He spoke.

“Who are you?” She asked. “Did you... did you follow me?”

He could tell her heart rate was speeding up, worried that some random boy had followed her into the woods. That’s fair, he thought.

“No!” He said, quickly. “I mean yeah- yes. But not in a creepy way! I just saw someone walk into the woods and I called and no one said anything so I- I just wanted to make sure that everything was okay.”

She just stared at him.

“You know what? I should go. Yeah. I’m gonna leave you alone.” He said, about to turn around.

“Wait.” She called, finally speaking up and stopping him. “Are you... an Avenger?”

Now his heart was the one racing. “What? No!” He chuckled nervously. “Why... what would make you think that?”

She smiled, pointing at his t-shirt. “Because you have their logo on your shirt and it’s the only place out here for like a mile.”

Peter glanced down at the gray t-shirt he was wearing with the Avengers logo printed across his chest. Quickly, he attempted to spin a lie. “Oh this? No. Nope.” He shook his head. “I just... work... at the Avengers Compound. I... hand out waters and stuff to um Thor and ya know... other... people.”

There was a pause as the they stared at each other.

“I’m Y/n.” You told him, moving your hand out to shake his.

He calmed down as you introduced yourself and your own heart settled, knowing now that you weren’t scared of him- meaning you either believed what he said or just simply accepted his lie about working at the Avengers Compound. It wasn’t a whole lie, he told himself though. He did “work” there and occasionally, as the youngest person there, was asked to fetch water from time to time.

“Peter.” He said, taking your hand. “So... what are you doing out here?”

You then remembered what you had come out here for in the first place. You spun around turning back to look at your set up. “Oh!” You exclaimed. “I come out here sometimes to paint. It's really peaceful, you know?”

Peter nodded. He had just been thinking the same thing before he first saw you. It had been difficult for him to know peace for a long time, but here he felt as though he could breath even if it was for a short time.

“I know what you mean.” He told you, then glancing at the mess he had caused when he first spooked you. “Let me help.” He smiled, gesturing to the paint brushes and loose papers scattered along the floor.

You turned around, looking at the mess behind you. “You don’t have to. It’s okay!” You told him, striding over to your workspace and beginning to haphazardly organize the area.

Despite your assurances that you could clean up yourself, Peter followed behind you and began picking up your scattered paintings on the ground.

“You did all of these yourself?” He asked.

You watched as Peter stared at each of your quick paintings in his hand. He, admittedly, did not understand much about art, but he was in awe at the work he saw in front of him. The paintings he held in his hands depicted what he believed to be fairies sitting light as a feather on flowers and hidden in the trees. The design itself was soft and gentle and he was afraid to ruin something so precious in his hands.

“Yeah,” You chuckled.

“They’re really good.” He told you, impressed. “I wish I could do stuff like this. How do you even do this?”

You smiled. A part of you was always nervous showing your paintings to someone else, especially a stranger, but it made you feel warm inside to have this cute, sweaty boy complimenting you on your art and impressed with your skill.

“Everyone has their thing.” You told him. “What about you?”

Peter then thought about his abilities, but for obvious reasons he couldn’t divulge on his strengths without the risk of exposing his identity. Although he couldn’t share that part of himself with you- someone he just met- it made him remember who he was without his abilities- the skills and talents he possessed without the assistance of an accidental spider bite.

“My friend and I build lego sets.” He shrugged.

“That can’t be it.” You laughed. “Come on! What are things you’re good at?”

Peter hadn’t been asked that question in regards to just himself in a while. He felt that people only cared about him recently because he was Spider-Man, not because he was Peter Parker. It felt good for someone to care about him for more than the things he couldn’t control.

“Sciency stuff I guess.” He told you as the two of you stood up and he handed you back your paintings.

You smiled, accepting the pages back and placing them on the table. “See! And you thought you weren’t good at anything.”

Peter smiled before scratching the back of his neck. “So... do you always hang out here in your free time?”

You sat back in your chair, this time organizing your desk space again. You placed your current work-in-progress in front of you and set out your paints. Taking a brush from one of those scattered across the table and dipping it in your desired color you laughed. “Not all the time. Why do you ask?”

Peter felt himself stiffen up. He knew why, but he didn’t want to say it out loud. It wasn’t often he met new people and felt comfortable enough around them, but around you, there was a carefree air. Although he had barely learnt anything about you besides your name and your inclination for painting in the wilderness, he wanted to learn more about you.

“Oh... well... you know...” He began. “Maybe we could hang out sometime? Not in the woods I mean. Not that there’s anything wrong with it! I just- you know-”

At that he heard the strokes of your brush halt on the page as you lifted it and set it down in the glass of water in front of you. You turned back in your chair to look at him, leaning your arm over the back of it. “Like a date?” You asked, cutting him off.

Even though Peter had been through a lot that most teenagers his age had never experienced- that some would even claim required an excessive amount of bravery- he still got flustered when you asked him whether it was a date or not. He thought you were interesting and wanted to get to know you regardless. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in going on a date with you, but he also didn’t want to risk facing rejection and embarrassment.

What do you have to lose? He asked himself.

“I’m sorry if that was forward-” You began as he took a bit longer than you had anticipated for him to answer.

“Yeah. Like a date.” He cut you off. “If you want to anyway... you don’t have to.”

For what felt like the hundredth time since you first met him a few minutes ago, you smiled. “I’d like that.”

And with that you and Peter exchanged numbers before he insisted you go back to painting and that people would begin looking for him soon if he didn’t get back to his run. When his feet hit the road to start running again, he felt a new bolt of energy and pride rush through him as he thought about the cool painter girl’s number he had just gotten in the woods and the date he would share with you that upcoming weekend.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x yn

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nyasiaaaaa · 3 years

Text

The Little things

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: established relationship, shooting, angst, Smut (18+), spanking, Dom/Sub, oral sex ( m and f receiving) P in V, fingering ( f receiving), spitting, use of good girl ( once), breeding kink if you squint, Fluff, helmet-less Din ( he only wears it when he’s outside), tw eating

A/N: First time writing smut and first time writing for a Pedro character. For @its--fandom--darling 1k follower celebration!!! Thank you @absurdthirst for all your help. Thank you @aripariii for looking over this.

 You throw your head back in frustration as you contemplate giving up feeding the kid. You had been trying to feed him vegetables for the past week. Every time you wanted to feed him some smashed peas with a spoon, he would use the force to push it into your mouth. You lift your head as you take a deep breath, ready to try again when Din walks in and throws jerky on the table for the kid. You look at Din in disbelief before getting up to clean the mess while you let the kid eat.

“I’ll be back in a few; this shouldn’t take long,” Din announced as he stood in place, scanning the room for his blaster.

“You missing something,” you asked, hopping on one of the crates looking over at him with a mischievous smile

“Give it,” he grumbled out, walking up to you holding his hand out

“Give what,” you questioned as you tilted your head. “Give this,” you smiled, pulling out his blaster.

Din tried to reach for it as you pulled back “nope, let’s make a deal.”

“I don’t have time for games, cyar’ika,” he replied trying to convince you to give it up.

“Then let’s not play any. I’ll give you your blaster if you quit giving the kid what he wants when I’m trying to give him a balanced diet, ok.”

“Ok,” he agrees to take the blaster from your hand.

“Also, you don’t have to rush back for lunch; just make sure you are here for dinner” he gave you a nod in response as he fished, packing up his things.

You pick the kid up and dust him over, carrying him over to Din so he could say bye. Din looked down at his son and ruffled his head before looking at you. He bent down, placing his cold beskar helmet against your head. He didn’t need to say anything you already knew and vise versa. Din straightened up and walked towards the ramp before typing in buttons and letting it down.

As Din was walking away, he stopped to remind you for the millionth time, “cyar’ika, don’t leave the ship, this is one of the most dangerous plants and-“

“I know you’ve told me all this before. I won’t leave me. The kid and I are going to chill here and watch cartoons or something,” you told him, interrupting his repetitive speech.

He stood there hesitantly, debating in his head before choosing to just walk down the ramp and away. You guys never did that stop and turn around things you’ve seen in movies; there was no need to. He was always going to come back; he had promised you.

As soon as the Din was far away enough, you closed the ramp and started getting ready to leave. Dins birthday is coming up, and you’re trying to make him a chocolate cake. In one of your late-night pillow talks, you asked Din what he remembers from his childhood before the Mandalorian, he replies that he doesn’t remember a lot. What he does remember is how every year, for his birthday, his mom would make him a chocolate cake. It was the best thing he has ever eaten in his life, well, the second-best thing he adds a few seconds later.

Since then, you have been collecting all the ingredients you need to make the cake over the next couple of weeks. You have everything but cocoa powder, the most crucial ingredient. You’ve looked everywhere, every plant, every website you couldn’t find it anywhere else but this plant.

You don’t want to go against what Din has asked you, especially because you said you wouldn’t. Still, you just wanted to do something special for him, for his birthday, because he deserved it. After all, he had done for you, you wanted to do something for him even if others might consider it a little thing you knew it would mean a lot to Din.

For example a few months ago, you tried to make sure Din started enjoying his meals more and eating meals more frequently. You did this by eating together like a clan Breakfast, Lunch, and dinner. You and Din sit next to each other at the small table you had built together, the kid in his high chair. Din had to adjust to it but never complained. He even started to look forward to it, rushing back to the ship sometimes after a bounty to make it in time for lunch or dinner.

You smiled, thinking fondly of the memories you’ve created with your clan over the past months as you started getting ready to leave. As you’re finishing up and was about to leave, you activate the droid; you have to watch the kid. This droid you had found in a past mission but never had a reason to fix it until now. You had been working on it the ship during flight and while Din was away on hunts.

When Din had asked you about the droid, you said you were programming the IG-11 to help clean around the ship. Din had been uncertain because of its killing background but ended up letting it go. You had lied though, you had kept the Droids programming and just added few changes to it. The changes were that when you left, its mission was to protect the child and take care of all its needs. It was to kill anyone or thing that came onto the ship unless it was you, Din, or the kid.

The little white lie was never a problem either because you only activated the droid when you and Din were out to watch the kid, and you always made sure to come back to the ship before Din to deactivate it, plus Din never questioned why he’d never seen the droid in “action.”

You set out to the local market nearby, where you were hoping to find the last ingredient so you could make the cake. Since you started a little late today and this is one of the most dangerous plants in the galaxy, you walked a bit faster than usual. The quicker you walked, the more excited you got. You were about to be done getting all the supplies to make the cake, just in time, because Dins birthday was in a couple of weeks. As you neared the market, you prayed to Maker that the thing you’re risking your life over was going to be here. You were incredibly proud of yourself for keeping this a secret from Din without him suspecting a thing.

***********

Din had tracked his bounty to a bar nearby; as he neared the bar, he could hear the noise of people inside. As soon as he stepped foot into the bar, it went silent, some people shaking in fear, others puffing their chest out and rising onto the balls of their feet slightly. Din looked around the bar; it wasn’t a bad bar. It just wasn’t the nicest.

The same color brown wood was throughout, green bar stools, plastic lawns chairs, mice having a party in every corner. Also, the floor was sticky; he could feel it with every step he took, he would have to use a little more effort than usual to lift his foot up, and you could hear it in every step. Din hadn’t spotted his bounty during his initial scan of the room, so he turned to the bartender to ask if he had seen the bounty. The bartender wasted no time and pointed to the backroom as he kept his head down. Din reaches the backroom and sees a smaller room same design and layout as the front with four men playing poker and three bodyguards. Dins usually not a man of words, but he doesn’t really feel like fighting today, so he tells them, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The choice is yours.”

One guard rushes towards Din and tries to grab him, but Din is quicker; he pulls a blaster and shoots a bodyguard in the chest. He starts getting attacked by two of the bodyguards but takes them out with ease. After the last bodyguard fell to the floor, he heard footsteps pounding against the floor, then pressure is applied to his back, one of the poker players had jumped on him. Din falls backward, crushing the person underneath him; he then quickly rolls over, props himself on one knee, and pulls his blaster to shoot the guy. Din then whips his gun around to the other side of the room to find two people standing there shaking with their hands up, neither of them his bounty. Din snaps his head in the direction of the door he came in as he hears the bell ring that’s placed above the door. He pushes himself off the ground and starts chasing after the man.

*************

You had to go to three different vendors in the market, but you finally found the cocoa powder you were looking for, the lady dared to charge you three times its worth, but you didn’t care anything for Din. You had to wander deep into the market to find the cocoa, so on your way out, you were doing a slight jog. You had hoped you were making good time and would make it back in time, but you had no way of knowing for sure.

***************

Din is chasing after the guy, and he’s so close the guy knows this too. The bounty suddenly stops in the middle of a crowd; he pulls out a blaster and waves it. Sounds of shock and fear echoed threw out the public. Din steps forward to get the guy he needs alive; the man suddenly looks around frantically, pulls the closest person to him, and puts a gun to their head. It was you. The bounty had put the gun to your head. Din’s mind blanks. He has no other thoughts besides getting to you; he doesn’t care if the bounty is for him brought in cold. The bounty had touched what’s his.

Din quickly pulls his blaster ready to fire when suddenly you pull forward, folding over as you push down on your toes; you then spring up, moving your head back to strike the man’s head. The man then stumbles backward from the sudden impact. Din is quick to act as he runs towards the man and then shoots the man in his arm, the man falls to the ground, and Din proceeds to lift the man up and place him in handcuffs.

Din turns towards you to scan your body as he looks for any injuries. His beskar covered face then looks up towards you as he asks, “hurt,” and you proceed to shake your head no. Before you can ask if he’s hurt, he grabs your arm and pushes you in front of him, signaling to walk. You do walk as he follows, dragging the bounty behind him.

The journey back to the ship was quiet, too quiet even the bounty tried to speak on the tensions, “struggle in paradise, eh.”

Din pressed his finger into his wound for that one.

You’d been so distracted by the event that happened you had forgotten about the droid, but it was too late. Din had already typed in the code, and the ramp was coming down.

This was the first time, the one time Din wasn’t the faster person in the room; by the time Din pulled his blaster out, it was too late. It all happened in a blink of an eye. The bounty was dead. The droid shot him.

You were nervous, it’s not like you were in desperate need of the credits, but the money could have help, and you know Din just went through a lot to get him.

“The child is safe, would you li-“IG-11 started before Din shot him. You were about to complain, but then you remember the situation you were in.

You stood in silence for a couple of minutes before deciding to look at Din only to find him staring at you. You turned your head away so quick that pain in your neck started to arise. “Din I-I-I’m so so sorry this is all my fault, I’ll take the blame, ok. Just tell Greef Karga, ok. Can he be brought in dead? I mean, it’s not a big deal, y-y-you’ve done it before. Greef Karga will s-still a-a-a-accept it right …. RIGHT!”

Din didn’t utter a word as he dragged the body onto the ship; he put the body into carbon freeze and closed the ramp. Then he just stood there. He didn’t move an inch. The tension in the air was so thick, you could even breathe properly. You knew this was your time to leave him alone. Earlier, you had noticed that the kid wasn’t in IG-11s arms, so you were planning on looking for him, assuming that he had been put to sleep because this was around his nap time.

“Ok, so I see that you need alone time; I’m just going to find the kid and take care of him,” you said as you turned to go look for him.

You didn’t even get to do a complete 180 before Din grabbed onto your wrist and twisted it, pulling your body closer to him. You could hear the hard deep breaths he was taking as he stared right into your soul.

“Why,” he whispered out, hurt invoice.

“I-I-I,” you tried to speak, your eyes moving back and forth as you tried to find his.

“Why would you be so stupid? I told you not to leave, I told you this place was dangerous. You didn’t listen, why can’t you ever just listen.” He snapped at you, saying every word with a tremble. He let you go and started to walk away from dragging his feet across the floor.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, your eyes watering up, tears threatening to fall.

Your words had made him stop dead in his tracks. “Are you” he questions as he walks towards you. Each step he took towards you, you took one back till your back hit the wall. You were nervous but weren’t afraid, you knew Din would never hurt you, but you still didn’t like to be around him when he got like this.

“WHAT WAS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU RISKED YOUR LIFE FOR? DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND THAT YOU COULD HAVE DIED TODAY? DO YOU EVEN CARE?”

You did understand how sideways things could have gone, and you were trying to tell him that, but the words kept getting caught in your throat. So you ended up just slowly shaking your head in agreement.

“Are you sure cause you don’t seem like it? What about that FUCKING droid? You lied to me; why would you do that? You already know how I feel about them, so why would you do that. And to leave THE KID with it. I hope whatever you got was worth it. Just do what I brought you here for and watch the child,” he growled out as he walked away towards the cockpit so he could set our next coordinates.

You stood there for a second shook but started to move to find the kid after the ship took off. He was in your old room, which you and Din turned into a toddler’s room after you moved into his. You picked the kid up and sat down in a rocking chair. You hugged the kid close to you as tears fell down your cheek. You were angry. Din had no right to talk to you like that. You messed up, you understand that, but to yell at you like he did have. Plus, you had risked your life for something for him. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t know it; he should know you better than to just assume that you would have intentionally risked your life for something stupid.

***********

Din sat in his chair in the cockpit, feeling the weight of guilt immediately; the weight of his beskar couldn’t even compare to how heavy this felt. He felt awful; he regretted every word that came out of his mouth. He was just so angry; he had almost lost the only person he has ever cared about since his parents besides the kid. That was no excuse; he has had his fair share of screw-ups, the number of times he has almost gotten killed was too many to try to count on both hands.

He took his helmet off and put his hands in his head. He was stressed after all the events that happened today, but he was most worried about what had just happened in the bay. He deliberated on going down there and apologizing to you but ultimately decided to give you your space and apologize later today.

Din was going to apologize, he swore on Maker, but later that day, when he found you so he could apologize, you were sleeping in your old room. He was tempted to move you to the room you shared but then decide against it knowing you had fallen asleep in your old room for a reason. He slept in the cockpit that night; it didn’t feel right without you next to him. It’s funny Din spent most of his life alone; now he doesn’t even know how to sleep alone.

The next day Din did honestly try to apologize to you, but every time he entered the same room as you were in, you got up and left. Din understood that you probably need space after the fourth time stepping into the same room as you and you walking out. Din decided that you probably needed one more day.

The next day came, and you still were leaving every room he came into. He was sad; he missed the family dinners and lunches, he couldn’t wait any longer, he decided to apologize to you as soon as possible.

Din stepped into the kitchen area around lunchtime; he knew you were cooking something that requires your full attention, so he knew you wouldn’t step away.

“I’m-I’m sorry, I should have never yelled at you like that. I was angry because the bounty tried to run and then held you at gunpoint, he was touching what was mine, and I-I-I took it out on you. I should have never taken it out on you; I’m sure whatever you went out for was well worth it. I’m sorry, cyar’ika, ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”

Din waited there for something, anything, you didn’t say a single word. You instead finished up your cooking, turned the stove off, and proceeded to fix you and the child a plate before heading off to the cockpit to eat.

Din stood there in shock; this is not how things usually go after an argument. Din stood there for a few minutes as he contemplated what to do next. Maybe he had said it wrong, he thought; Din hadn’t apologized a lot in his life, he could count how many times on one hand, and all those times he had been with you. All those times, you had also accepted it, so Din shook his head of the thought that he had said it wrong. He decided to give you another day to think about accepting his apology.

***********

A day turned into two, then three, next things Din knew, three weeks had passed. It had been complete silence for three whole weeks. Din was dying inside. He barely ate or slept; he missed you, everything about you, even things that seemed stupid. He missed the way your hair smelled, he missed the warmth of your body as he slept next to you, he missed your smile. Din has never been before addicted to something, but he will bet this is what it feels like to go through withdrawal.

He craved you mentally and physically; he had started waking up this past week on the verge of a nut. He always had the same dream to, he would apologize and you would accept. Then he would worship your body like never before, discovering new things about you, what turns you on and how flexible you really are. Each and every time right before he would nut, right when you give him permission to cum inside, he wakes up, every time like clockwork.

*************

It was around lunchtime, and Din sat in the kitchen debating his next move. He needed you. He missed the way you guys used to be as a clan; just him and the kid alone wasn’t the same. He looked up and saw you putting the kid in a high chair and turning to the fridge, taking stuff out to make sandwiches. He laid back, watching you move around the kitchen. You had one of his shirts on with some shorts that you couldn’t see unless you reached up to get something that made your shirt rise.

He watched as you bent over getting something out of the fridge, his dick twitched in his pants. He had been so deprived of you that anything you did got him hard; he grunted as he started to palm himself over his pants.

You had heard Din behind you, you smiled to yourself, you knew he was dying inside, you’d heard it every morning when he was rubbing one out. You honestly had stopped being mad like a week and a half ago. You just wanted to see how long Din could stay away from you; you really wanted to see how long till you had Din Djarin on his knees.

You finished cooking and made some food for the kid and you, but instead of going up to the cockpit like you usually do, you ate in the kitchen. You decided to stand up to eat, leaning over the counter, back facing Din. You moaned with every bite you took, doing a little happy dance.

You had unknowingly confirmed to Din that you were no longer upset and were playing. He had suspected it but wasn’t sure; you would do things like get changed with the door open or take a shower with the door open. He saw those things and thought that you were ready to talk, but when he tried, you walked away. He had assumed that you weren’t ready and wasn’t doing those things on purpose. He knew now, though, that you were playing some type of game, a game he was about to end.

You had finished eating and looked up to find the kid sleep in his chair. You took the kid and put him in his room so he could sleep in peace. You came back to the kitchen to clean up; you felt Din’s eyes on you everywhere you went. You walked over to the crates to put some things from the kitchen up, passing Din as you went. You had felt him before you saw him, his back pressed up against you. You could feel the heat radiating off his clothed body as he pressed up against you. You leaned in for a second before realizing what you were doing. You turned around, trying to leave, but Din stood in your way. You had no other choice but to look up at him and go along with whatever he was trying to do.

“What do you want, Din,” you asked

“I was going to say I was sorry.”

“Well, apology not accepted,” you said quickly, cutting him off before he said another word.

“See cyar’ika keyword, was, “he replied looking at you with his brown eyes

“So what do you want now, Din,” you asked as you walked backward, eventually running out of space as your back hit the wall. You swallowed the lump in your throat and asked him again what he wanted.

He didn’t reply; instead, he reached up and took a finger drawing it from your collar bone to your chest; you shivered as he stared circling your covered nipple before pinching it.

“You,” he said

“What”

“You had asked me what I wanted now, and my answer is you,” he replied.

You were about to question it when he brought his finger up to your lips to quiet you before bringing his hand down and up your shirt to play with your breast. He made a low groan in his throat when he realized that you weren’t wearing your band wrap.

“At first, I was mad that you had put yourself in danger. Then I was a little sad when you started dodging me; it really hurt when you didn’t respond to my apology,” he chuckled. You could hear the smirk in his voice. He lifted up your shirt up over your head. He placed his hands back on your breast and then pinched one of your nipples, making your head fall back as you moaned out loud.

“Then you started playing games with me, messing my head all up. To blame you for playing this game would be wrong of me,” he said as he left you boobs, and his hand traveled up to wrap around your throat. Your body leaned into his touch, your hand reaching out to wrap around his wrist that was at your throat.

His hand squeezed your throat tighter at your silent request as he pushed you back, bringing his head down to bite along your collars before mumbling against your skin, “I realized that it’s not your fault, I should have taught you better, and I will” he said and then quickly pulled away and grabbed a chair to sit down.

“What,” you asked, eyes popping out head. You were confused, but it was too late; Din had already pulled you over his lap. He had pulled down your shorts; he was excited to see that you were wearing a thong, so he left your underwear in place.

“Din, what are you doing?” you questioned as you shifted around on his lap, trying to get a better look at him.

“If you’re going to act like a little brat, then I’m going to treat you like a little brat,” he said as he processed to take his gloves off.

“I will give you an equal amount of slaps on each cheek, and you will count each one out, ok, and safe word is cake, ok, “He asked as he messaged each cheek.

You shook your head as consent, “I need to hear a yes cyar’ika,” he said, giving you a little tap on your right cheek.

You yelped, surprised by the slight sting that followed that slap, and wondered how on Tatooine you were going to endure more, mainly because you and Din have never done something like this before. A slap or two while he hit it from behind, was the closest thing that had ever happened.

“Yes,” you were excited, you’d never seen this side of Din; you might even start messing with Din more often.

Din was smiling; he always loved to try new things with you. He continued to run over each cheek for a few more seconds before he raised his hand and landed the first smack on your right cheek.

“One” You choked out as he rubbed the cheek he just slapped.

It was hard, and it stung, but there was something about it that turned you on.

Din lifted up his hand before smack the left cheek “two,” you tried to suppress your moan. You were kinda embraced at the fact you were getting turned on from this.

When Dins hand landed on your right cheek again for the second time, you moaned loudly as you said the number three. Din smiled at that; he was happy you were enjoying this new thing. Din continued to tear your ass up, each slap hurting more than the last. You were getting wetter with each one to the point where your wetness started to drip down your leg, your underwear no longer keeping it in as it was soaked.

You were preparing to feel a sting on your left cheek for the last slap. Instead, Din pushed you off his lap and set you onto the floor. You laid there confused as he spread your legs open and took your thong off. He got on the side of you and leaned down to kiss you. Your lips captured his in a passionate kiss. You were distracted as Din slipped his tongue into your mouth, so you didn’t see it coming. He had raised his hand and slapped your pussy. You throw your head back as you moan, tears streaming down your face from the intensity of the sudden, overwhelming rush of pleasure.

You shot up before going back down as you raised your hip as he started to rub circles on your clit. He reached down, placing kisses along your neck up and down your neck to your collarbone and back up. He took your ear lobe and brought it into his mouth, pulling on it before letting it go.

These slow circles on your clit were killing you, “Please,” you whimpered as you reached down, placing your hand on top of him, encouraging him to go faster.

He slapped your hand aways, stopping because of you. He rubbed his nose up and down on your ear before asking.

“are you going to be a good girl for me?”

You shook your head up and down, unable to speak as he started playing with your clit again. You didn’t realize that this game you were playing had affected you too till now. You were so desperate; you would do anything he asked just so you could cum on him because of him.

He took his hand away from cunt and brought it up to your lips. You looked Din in the eyes as you took two of his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them. You closed your eyes as you moaned, tasting yourself on his fingers. You weaved your tongue around his fingers before you hollow your cheeks, making a popping sound when he pulled them out.

He ran his finger down your body before shoving two fingers inside of you. You moved your hips down to meet the thrust of his hand. Your legs threaten to close as the pleasure builds, nonsense mumbling falling from your lips.

“More,” you begged

“Faster,” you cried as he gave in to both of your demands.

Suddenly he stopped, and your whines of complaint soon turned into a moan as he pressed his tongue against your clit. He shifted so he could wrap his hands around your thighs as he dove in. It was still the best thing he has ever tasted, he thought to himself. Your back arches as he bites softly on your clit before he sucks on it, and he pushes two fingers into you. You reached down your finger through Din’s hair, causing him to moan into you to moan as you clench around him. Din loves feeling the way your body reacts to him, the way you gripped his fingers, his tongue, his dick.

You were close. You can feel it, and so could Din, so he quickened his pace.

“I’m- I’m. “You tried to speak be couldn’t

“I know,” he said, moving his thumb to circle your clit

You were so close, you could feel it in your stomach. You were about to cum when Din pulled his fingers out and started to lick them clean.

You let a puff of air out as you lose your high. You prop yourself on your elbows as you looked at him, throwing your hands up asking why.

“I just wanted you to see how it feels to work so hard for something only to have it taken from you at the last minute.” He said, standing up but never breaking eye contact with you. You choked on your spit when you realized what he was referring to.

You tried to stand up, but he placed a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down into your knees. You cocked your head to the side, and he just reached down and took your hand, placing it on top of his pants.

You looked up at him licking your lips before unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his zipper; you pushed his pants down along with his boxers down. You spit into your hand before wrapping your hand around his dick as much as you could. You stroked him before sticking your tongue out and licking the tip, then running your tongue up and down his shaft.

He grabbed you by your hair, yanking you back to look up at him. “Don’t play with me,” he said before taking his hand and wrapping it around your jaw to keep it open as he spits in it.

He let you go, and you stroked him a few times before taking him into your mouth. You moaned around him at the taste of him; this caused Din to lose his balance for a second, making him grab onto a crate to balance himself.

You swirled your tongue around his head before going back and forth, taking more of him in each time, you pulled back off of him, but strings of spit still connecting you to him. You purse your lips as you spit into your hand, reaching down to massage his balls before taking him back into your mouth, making sure to lick the pre-cum as you did.

He reached behind your head to grab your hair as he thrust into your mouth, you gag on his dick, but he keeps going knowing that you will tap against his leg if it gets to be too much. Din grabbed on to your head with both hands as he continued to fuck your face; you could feel him inching down your throat with each thrust. He was about to nut; you could feel it as his balls started to tighten. He griped your hair tighter, signaling for you to look at him. “Where,” he asked, slowing down so you could choose.

He let go of your hair as you pulled back, sticking your tongue out. He smiled down out at you before taping his tip against your tongue a few times as he started to stroke his dick. He quickens his paces and grabs onto your head, pulling it tight, so he won’t miss his target. Din grunted as if he was in pain as he painted your face with white streaks. He rubs his dick smearing the last bit on your tongue. You swallowed the bit in your mouth before feeling around your face the rest and swooping it into your mouth. You licked your lips, smiling up at him when you were all done.

He bent down and swiped his thumb across your cheek, getting the little you had left behind into your mouth. You sucked on it for a second before he pulled it out. He grabbed onto your hand, helping you up as his hands cradled your face, and he pressed his lips to yours; he moaned into your mouth at the taste of him. He reaches down to grab your ass before smacking up light and kneading it as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss as he taps your side, signaling for you to jump up so he could carry you. You jump into his arms, and he takes you into the room you shared and lay you against the cot. You lay there waiting for him as he finishes getting undressed.

He got onto the cot and got between your legs; he stroked himself a few times before lining it up with you. He looked up to meet your eyes looking for consent, and you nodded your head, giving it to him. He slowly pushed into you feeling your walls stretch around him before tightening. Your head falls back as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You grab onto the sheets, bunching them into your hands as you feel yourself being starched to your limit. You take your legs and wrap them around Din’s waist. You cross your ankles as you try to push him into you to make him go faster. He stops suddenly, he’s not even all the way in, and he stops. You’re starting to regret trying to make him go faster, you can’t see much, but you can see him smiling. You know that smile, nothing good is about to come out of that smile.

Din pulls all the way out before slamming back into you completely. You didn’t even make a sound because the air is knocked out of you; your back arches as you try to catch your breath. As soon as you caught your breath, he steals it as he leans down for a kiss capturing your lips roughly.

As he continuously pounds into you ruthfully, he takes one of your legs wrapped around his waist and pushes it to your chest to get a better angle to go deeper. You cry out with every thrust, your voice bouncing off the walls, echoing in the room.

“Mine, This body, theses tits, this tight as pussy, it’s all mine,” he told you as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

“It’s yours; every part of me is yours,” you agreed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him in closers.

You were close, especially after being denied earlier; you need release. Din quicken his paces as he felt you clench tightly around him.

“I-I-I’m close,” you screamed out.

“Cum for me, riduur,” he whispers in your ear.

The name he calls you pushes you over the edge; you clamp down on his dick as you cum. That doesn’t slow him down as he continues for a few strokes riding out you high before pulling out, flipping you onto your stomach, and pushing back into you without warning or rest. You back arch into his thrust as he makes your legs go apart, spreading you wider. He pops onto one knee, driving into you mercilessly as he reaches down to press your face into the mat.

As he’s thrusting into you, you feel one of his fingers circle around your unstretched hole; you guys had been saving that experience, maybe for this moment. “Can I please? I’ll only put a finger in,” he begged you you nodding your head under his hand. He acknowledges the movement as he pulls out, reaching down swooping up some of your wetness before plunging back into you. He teases the hole before slowly pushing his thumb in, causing you to arch your back even more and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “ f-f-fuck, Din” you stutter out when he got fully in.

Din quickens his pace in you as he sets a steady pace with his thumb. This was new to you, so being stretched like this, you were close to began for more; you wanted to know how it would feel to be pushed to your limit in both holes. You decided against it as you feel Din reach under you to toy with your clit, you chocked on your spit as you tried to catch your breath, all this pleasure was becoming too much for you to handle, you couldn’t even seem to catch your breath.

The pressure builds up in your stomach once again as you feel your peak near. You let sob into the mattress as you feel yourself clench around Din like never before as you cum. Your back arching to the point of pain, which only adds to your pleasure. You feel Din slow down; at first, you are confused about what he’s doing, but then you realized he’s watching how well you take him. He’s looking at how your pussy quivers around him with every stroke. He then speeds up for a second, loving the sound of skin slapping and the gushing sound your pussy makes as your wetness flows out of you staining your sheets.

Din chuckles before pulling you up by your hair, pressing your back to his chest, as he starts to thrust into you. Your body naturally arching into him as he reaches up and cups your right breast, moving his other hand down as he rubs vicious circles on your clit. Your tried body slumping against him as he takes you from behind. He knows you’re tired even if the grip you have on his dick says; otherwise, he stills know. He leans down into your ear, telling you, “you have one more in you, I know do.”

You reach up to take his hand from your breast to wrap it around your throat; you gave his hand an extra squeeze encouraging him. You get that familiar feeling in your stomach as he continues to pound into you with one hand wrapped around your throat and the other one rubbing circles on your clit. You whimper as you try to tell Din you close, but your body is too tired to even conjure up the words. Din understood you though, he was close, not far behind you. He knew that the feeling of you coming around him would do him.

You throw your head back against Din’s shoulders as you felt yourself unravel on him. Din places a hand on the wall as he losing his balance the feeling of your tighten around him as you milk him dry, he continues to pump into you, riding out of yours. Din pulls out, turning you onto your back, laying you down before opening your legs and settling himself between them. He pulled back for a second because you had winced in pain, his dick had rubbed against your extremely sensitive mound; he pulled back, readjusting his self before laying back down. He played comfortably in your arms, his head in the crook of your neck as he rubbed circles in your side while you laid there with your arms wrapped him.

Din lifts his head up and leans down to capture your lips in a sloppy but passionate kiss that held a lot of emotion behind it. You pull away, and he pushes his head into the crook of your neck, and you reach up and run your fingers through his loose curly.

“I’m sorry about everything I said, it was wrong, and I was out of line.” He said but face still in your shoulder

“It’s ok. I should have been more careful when I went out; I didn’t even bring a blaster with me,” you replied as you continued to massage his scalp.

“What did you get from the market.”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I hate surprises. Do you not remember the droid.” He asked

“Hey, at least we know it effective,” you said laughing, but Din wasn’t

“Too soon,” you asked, but you knew it wasn’t as you felt Din smile against your skin. You guys fell asleep just like, you holding him in your arms.

********

The next day went by so smoothly; you guys were back to the daily routine like nothing happened. Din was excited to get back to the meal sharing, he didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. You guys had eaten breakfast together but had your lunches separate because you each had your own projects to do. Which is what you told Din, but you had actually needed the rest of the day to set up everything for his birthday dinner and make the cake.

You weren’t even sure if Din knew today was his birthday, but even if that’s true, it will make for a better surprise.

Din was coming down soon; he just had to set new coordinates. You guys needed to come out of hyperspace to get gas before continuing on your journey to the next plant where the next bounty is at, which is two days away.

During one of your trips to the market, you found a pretty little black dress; you were so excited to wear it for his birthday. You don’t even remember the last time you were in a dress, and you knew Din had never seen you with one, so it would be like icing on top of the cake.

You heard footsteps above you move, and you were quick to act as you turned around, lit the candles on the cake, and flipped the light switch.

You heard Din slide down the step and walked towards you; your back was still turned to him, and it was dark, but something was illuminating your face; he just didn’t know what. He reached over to the wall next to him and flipped the light switch on. He turns and sees the kid in his high chair next to you.

“cyar’ika,” He asked, stepping closer to you.

You then turn around slowly, not wanting to make the candles go out. As soon as Din sees your face, he gives you a small smile, but it drops when he sees what’s in your hand. You were nervous for a second, thinking that you had crossed a line or something. Then you saw a single tear roll down Din’s face; you had never seen the man cry. You had been with him for close to a year and never have seen this.

You set the cake down and quickly went over to him, embracing him in a hug. He hugged you back so tightly as if he was going to lose you.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner Ridder,” he said, but you only recognized one of the words used.

You reached up and wiped his tears and took his hand and led him over to the cake, Din looked at you before bending down to give you a quick kiss, and he straight up, closing his eyes for a second before bending down and blowing out his candles. You clapped your hands in enjoyment and excitement and reached over to pull in your face for a quick kiss. You heard a slight noise, and you pulled back and turned to see the kid clapping also.

You laughed at that before reaching over and grabbing a knife so Din could cut his cake. Din happily took the knife from you as he cut himself a pretty big piece of cake; he took a fork and a huge bite. Din moaned as he took his first bite, slowly chewing on the chocolate fudge cake with chocolate frosting. His tongue dashes out to lick up any residue that he might have left on his lips.

“I might have to change my mind. This might be the best thing I have ever tasted,” Din said, bringing down the fork for another bite.

You faked gasped, “what does that make me second.”

“You know what? I think I need a refresher, especially with you in that little black dress,” I said, licking his lip, and he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Later, the kid and I are hungry; it’s time to eat,” you said as you shoved him off of you.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed you on the neck before saying, “no, seriously, this is the best thing anyone could have given me. I have a question though, is this what you went out to get” he asked, you hummed in response.

“As much as I love my gift, and I really do, please do risk your life over something like this. All I need is you and the kid, and I’m happy, ok.” He said

“Ok”

Cyar’ika - darling

Ridder - wife/partner

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - I love you.

ner Ridder - my wife/ partner

#mando #mando x you #pedro pascal #star wars #smut #din djarin #din dijarin x reader #pedro pascal x reader #the mandalorian #the mandolorian x reader #din djarin x you #nsft text

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oogaboogasphincter · 3 years

Text

The 50/10 Method (Agent Whiskey x f!reader)

Summary: Jack makes the most of your 10 minute study break.

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rating: E (explicit) 18+ ONLY! bc this is just cringey smut lmfao

Warnings: smut (oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (obvi use protection irl), very easily and conveniently reached orgasms (this is a fantasy i can do what i want skjfkd), dirty talk, one (1) allusion to thigh riding and one (1) instance of 💙spitting💙, fingering, positions i hope i've given enough detail so y’all can imagine what i was picturing💀), pet names (sweetheart, honey, cowboy *affectionately*, good girl, baby), there’s a sentence about reader having long-ish hair, reader and jack have a dog, swearing, reader is afab and is called things like good girl and the like, just overall trash grammar and structure 😇

Author’s Note: so this is very poorly written and extremely self-indulgent, as i myself use the 50/10 method 🙃. but i had a lot of fun with it, and i think that’s what writing is supposed to be all about! :) also i was heavily inspired to write this after reading “Take a Break” by @mellowswriting and “Study Buddy” by @pascalpanic. please go check those out because they’re absolutely fantastic!!!!! +while you’re at it, i would highly advise you to read anything on their masterlists bc they’re just 💜exquisite💜

gif by @thernandalorian

The lines of text on your computer screen are starting to blend into each other, creating a single run-on sentence that one of your previous English teachers would ridicule the author for. The sharp curves and angles that distinguish each letter from the next are becoming soft and dull, blurring into each other until your brain can only recognize it as a smeared streak of black on white.

It’s 11:00am on a Saturday, a big exam set for the upcoming Monday’s morning. You don’t feel rushed for time, or overloaded with unknown material, and the early hours of the day have been quite productive. Following a shared breakfast of homemade waffles in bed with Jack, your boyfriend, you didn’t complain when setting up your study station on the living room’s large oak table. If anything, you had been excited to begin studying early in the hopes of finishing your review by the end of the day. That way, tomorrow would be free for you and Jack to do whatever you pleased.

However, as the hours went by, your motivation was slowly but surely diminishing. The serene study atmosphere that you usually thrive in is now driving you mad. You yearn for a noise, any noise; a bird to sing a song in the tree outside your window, the smack of your dog’s loose wrinkles against each other as he attempts to shake the sleep out of him, a pencil unable to stop itself from rolling and dropping onto the floor with a tink.

You’re momentarily gifted with the crisp sound of a page turning. You flit your eyes over to gaze upon the source of your granted wish and your heart flutters in reaction to the sight: Jack’s resting on the couch, cowboy hat balanced on the back of it, deeply absorbed in the next installment of his favorite murder-mystery series. You find it curious that his desire for an adrenaline-filled challenge doesn’t stop when he comes home from mission after mission that nearly cost him his life. You’ll ask him about his insatiability one day, but for now you categorize it as fictional research for his Statesman assignments.

Your short glance quickly turns into an entranced stare. Jack looks... divine. Fetching. Luscious. As he’s lying on his back, neck propped up against the arm of the couch, his book balanced on his chest, relaxation radiates off of him in waves and utterly seduces you. You’re surprised that he hasn’t been a greater distraction to you throughout the morning. How have you managed to ignore the denim-wearin’, plaid-shirted, pornstache-sportin’ cowboy of your dreams that is only a few steps away?

Involuntarily, the thigh muscles of your crossed legs contract in an effort to bring some semblance of friction to your now weeping core. Similar to your imaginings of your dog earlier, you shake your head to force these heavy, unwanted feelings to dissipate and turn back to the work in front of you. Of course, Jack does the opposite of what you’d like him to do and takes an interest in your fidgeting. He peeks over the top of his book, “You cold, sweetheart?”

His question is reasonable: you’re purposely wearing a skirt that’s so short it rides up quite high when you sit. You don’t dare to meet his eyes and answer while pulling a textbook close and opening it up, “No, I’m okay.”

Fortunately he returns to his reading. Your attention is able to retain itself for about a paragraph, but then your mind takes a sharp detour back to those pesky, steamy desires. You mentally huff at your inability to remain concentrated on your studies and rifle through the options of what you can do to satiate yourself for the time being.

You could switch texts and force your brain to recognize the change and therefore become distracted. You could pick out some colored writing utensils and bring some fun to active reading. You could say fuck it, go straddle Jack and beg him to use you in whichever way he would like.

Jack interrupts your brainstorming, “Are you sure you don’t need a blanket or sumthin’? I can go get my jacket for ya.”

The attentiveness of your southern lover melts your heart. You turn to him, “No, really, I’m okay, thanks.”

“I wouldn’t count a bathroom break as taking away from your 50 minutes, honey, if that’s what’s makin’ you twitch.”

You had been implementing and strictly adhering to the 50/10 method all morning: study for 50 minutes, take a break for ten. Its effectiveness was never doubted, as it has proven to work for you for years. Only ten minutes into this 50 minute period, the devil of restlessness pokes at you and makes you think could time go by any slower? A hand comes up to cover the blush creeping across your cheek as you dismiss Jack’s suggestion, “No, that’s not it.”

Behind your embarrassed hand, Jack cocks an eyebrow at you. Your simple choice of words has given the Agent a hint, that there is something that’s bothering you, he just hasn’t figured it out yet and you don’t want to admit what it is for some reason. He returns to his book, however lost in thought about what your problem could be, while you task every cell in your body to pay attention to your studies.

35 minutes remain on the clock, and Jack guesses, “Did you have too much coffee?”

You can’t help but grin at his sleuthing, “No, I just had my regular.”

He conjures up another possible solution five minutes later, “Are you itchin’ to get out of the house? We haven’t left in two days.”

He’s getting warmer. Both of you know exactly why you haven’t left the house in two days: you’d been occupied with activities of the sinful variety. You can’t gauge yet whether or not he knows he’s dancing around the answer, “Baby, you’re distracting me. And nope, it’s not that.”

He smiles apologetically, “Sorry,” and uses his book as a partition, blocking your ability to procrastinate and just visually drool all over him.

Silence fills the next 20 minutes. Even though Jack is out of your sight, details from your observations exaggerate themselves in your mind to the point that they’re all encompassing, intoxicating. The way his jeans wrap around his legs ever so perfectly, the worn denim hugging those muscular thighs that he loves for you to grind yourself against when you’re feeling especially desperate (like now). How his plaid flannel slopes over the swell of his belly, stretching tight against his skin as his diaphragm contracts and deflating when he exhales. Even his large feet, strewn about lazily on the couch, his toes pointing in different directions, amuse you.

Ten minutes remain in your study session. Feeling guilty about spending the majority of the last hour envisioning the seductive intricacies of your boyfriend, you actually start to study.

“How many times do you think I can make you cum in ten minutes?”

Your eyes are ripped from your material and land on the menace lazing on the couch. He’s put his book down, one arm behind his head while the other is crooked, allowing himself to palm his cock through his pants. Jack’s wearing a shit-eating grin, bewitching your crossed legs to switch which one is on top; an excuse to apply more pressure to the yearning area between them. You fidget in the chair, shamefully trying to get the seam of your underwear to rub against you in just the right way. You shrug, “I-I’m not sure.”

He gets up and comes over to you, standing behind you and leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. He murmurs in your ear, “I think we should find out during your next break.”

You turn to face him, “I think so too.”

He gives you a quick kiss, “Well, you better be a good girl and study for these last few minutes. Earn that break.” He places his large hands on either side of your head and turns it toward your materials, making you both laugh.

Somehow, you’re able to pay attention. Jack’s impending promise of ravaging you for ten minutes straight quells your jittering nerves and gives you something specific to look forward to. Before you know it, your alarm is beeping, alerting you that your break has commenced. Jack cages you by reaching forward and grabs the clock, programs it to ten minutes and keeps it in his hand. He grips the sides of your swivel chair, pulls it back from the table and spins you around to face him, the speed of the turn making your hair swoosh across your shoulders. Through mutual giggles, Jack lifts you up, winding your legs around his waist, your arms doing the same around his neck. “I want you to count for me how many times you cum.”

Breathlessly, you simply obey, “Okay.”

He practically runs to the bedroom. He sets the clock on the nightstand and turns the face towards the mattress so you don’t lose out on studying time. Tossing you onto the bed, your giggling continues as you bounce from the force. Jack hooks his fingers in your underwear and yanks them down, pulling them out from under your skirt and over your shoes. The way he wastes no time ridding you of any other garment makes blood and heat flood your center and air rush out of your lungs. He pushes your lost air back into your mouth with a kiss and then immediately retreats back to in between your legs.

He flicks the fabric of your skirt up onto your belly, letting himself have complete, unobstructed access to his early lunch. His fingers fondle your folds while his lips place sloppy kisses along the inside of your thighs. After he’s had his fill of that step, he sits back and stares at you: spread out for him, more than willing to take anything he wants to give to you. He blows out a whistle, eyeing your core, and you say, “Hey, you’re on the clock, cowboy. No time for dramatics.”

He nods, a smirk pulling at one side of his mouth, “You’re right, sweetheart.”

He spits onto your cunt, forgoing his usual gentle licks to adequately wet your pussy. A quiet fuck escapes your mouth as he plunges his tongue into you. Your fingers wind themselves in his chocolatey locks and pull, extracting an excited moan from your lover. His fingers knead the soft flesh on the backs of your thighs as he eats and when his mustache starts to tickle your clit, you’re done for. Your grip on his hair becomes vice-like and your whole body seizes up, constricted by enrapturing pleasure. You strangle out, “One.”

Jack unlatches his mouth only once he’s certain your first orgasm is complete. He stands, admires your wrecked expression, takes his cock out, spits into his hand and pumps his dick a few times. Hands slithering around your waist, he flips you onto your stomach and pulls your ass up, positioning you on your hands and knees. You’re a little bit dizzied by his manhandling in combination with his expert tongue, but this type of vertigo is the most enjoyable you’ve ever experienced.

When he pushes into you, it’s a bit of a stretch because he hadn’t warmed you up with his fingers. He relaxes you by leaning forward, pressing his chest against your back and peppering soft kisses to your shoulder blades. The clink of his belt comically punctuates his thrusts, but your laughs are swallowed by intoxicated groans. You don’t know, and you don’t really care to figure out, how he already has you teetering on the edge of cumming again. Heightened senses tell you that you’re close; the fabric of his shirt feels unearthly soft as it brushes against patches of exposed skin, his fingertips are delightful lead in their clamp on you, his grunts and pants angelically reverberate in your skull. And then, suddenly and all at once, “Two.”

Jack’s pride shows itself in a smirk while he flips you onto your back. He makes a show of hooking your calves over his shoulders, eliciting laughter from the both of you. Resting almost all of his weight on top of you, your knees find your chest and his hands find your hair. The intimacy of it all is almost too much; his thumbs stroke your temples, palms cradle your head, those goddamned puppy-dog eyes bore into you. You turn your head in his grasp to check your timing: five minutes left.

Jack’s tongue darts out to lick the pads of his fingers before he snakes it down in between the two of you to rub your clit. Your moans come out uncontrollably, your eyelids stutter and he eggs you on, “That’s it, sweetheart. Give me another one.”

Hearty moans are reduced to desperate gasps and you’re unable to verbally acknowledge the third orgasm that rips through you. Nonetheless, Jack can tell from the way your eyes roll into the back of your head and his name tumbles ferociously out of your mouth that you’re cumming. “’Atta girl.”

Jack takes his cock out of you and the whine that escapes your lips embarrasses you. He can’t help but laugh at your whimpering before he scoots down the bed and starts to eat you out again, framing his head with your quaking thighs. You find the strength to check the time, “Jack, there’s only a minute and a half left.”

He moans deeply into you, unaffected by your comment, and eases three fingers into your fluttering center. Like earlier, your hands fly to his hair like a magnet and find purchase so tight it makes your knuckles go pale. In a matter of seconds, circling your clit with his sopping tongue and tapping your g-spot with his deft fingers, Jack has you cumming yet again. This time you yell out the count, “Four!”

The sounds his ministrations make are lewd and exhilarating, pushing himself to his own precipice. You look down your body to find Jack’s other hand jerking his cock and his seed spilling out of him moments later. He groans into your pussy while you pet his hair, praising him for his efforts.

Simultaneously, you both remember that you’re being timed. Your eyes meet the clock at the same time: 30 seconds. Jack springs from the bed and pulls you up with him, grabbing your discarded panties. He squats and taps your ankles so you lift your legs up, sliding each leg hole over your body and pulling your underwear up underneath your skirt.

You fumble with his mussed clothes, stuffing his still-hard cock into his boxers, hiking his jeans up over his ass and zip and button them closed. You snake his belt around his waist and let his fingers do the work of buckling it before he picks you up bridal style and ushers you out of the bedroom, grabbing the clock off of the nightstand on your way out.

Unhinged cackles follow you two down the hallway as you return to the living room. He plops you down in your chair, straightens you out, gives you a kiss on the cheek and then your alarm goes off. You raise your eyebrows at him, “Jeez, you didn’t waste a second.”

He hums, then mumbles, “You get back to work now, babygirl,” and leaves you with a yearning kiss on the part of your hair.

Both of you return to your respective readings, hopelessly trying to downgrade your panting gasps to normal breaths. The absence of Jack’s warmth is already painful. But you rationalize that the indulgence of the last ten minutes is more than enough to get you through this next hour of studying, if not for longer.

Little do you know that Jack feels the same pain. His ache for your touch, sexual or not, will overtake him later and he’ll be unable to resist the temptation of coming over and distracting you again. Determined to finish your studying, you’ll propose a compromise: you can sit in his lap while he is lulled to sleep by the ambience of the afternoon rain and the enveloping comfort of you. The two of you can try to beat the record of four orgasms next semester.

💘taglist: @pascalpanic, @mellowswriting

#agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey x fem!reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey smut #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #kingsman: the golden circle #study smut #studying smut

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prettynxsty · 3 years

Text

Spandex

Sub!J-Hope x Domme!Reader

Warnings: polishing (cock head play), power bottom-ish hoseok, hoseok has a pussy, risky semi-public sex, its not really a kink but cameltoe 🥴, impregnation kink, biting, mild sweat kink?, nipple play, nothing short of a creampie

Summary: We barely have a plot this time, reader and Hobi go to Jin’s barbecue and get terribly nasty in the bathroom.

AN: We have the appearance of ot7 in this fic. This was another product of my horrible imagination, enjoy. Sidenote, they’re not kissing each other on the mouth, it’s cheek to cheek as a greeting.

“Are you sure about this?” You peered over at him warily, glancing back at yourself in the mirror.

“Of course, we’re going to be the best dressed there.” Hoseok turns to you with a pointed look, ceasing the fussing over his hair. “Are you doubting my styling abilities?”

“Not at all, but..” You start but trail off in defeat, you knew exactly how stubborn he could be.

“The only person that’s going to be looking at your dick is me,” he turns back to the mirror to fuss over himself, “if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You threw your hands in the air, grabbing the pair of leggings off of the bed and will yourself to step into them. Sighing through your nose, you decide to tuck your dick into one of the legs instead of letting it rest in a nearly ridiculously sized bulge.

You absolutely loved the idea of wearing matching outfits to Jin’s barbecue, however you never would have guessed that your fiance would put you in such a predicament. Instead of leggings, he wore an irreverent pair of biker shorts that were cut higher than what could have been legally allowed.

You scratch at your bicep for a brief second before grabbing your button up off of the bed. You slip it over your arms, folding the collar down before working the buttons from the bottom to the top. You admire the graphic print as you grab two tails on the sides and twist them neatly before tucking them under the rest of the fabric. You take your time, pulling up the waist of the leggings and achieve the perfect tuck of your shirt.

In contrast, Hoseok’s top was cropped to flash a sliver of his belly and waist chain. He must have had the mind to subtly (loudly) outshine your friends, should any of them have decided to wear matching outfits with their own partners.

“Okay, how do I look babe?” His voice takes you out of your meticulous fretting, turning from the bathroom to where he stood in front of the dresser.

You step back into your house slippers, shuffling out to get a better look.

You remembered why summer had become a close second, if not first to your favorite season. His loose curls swish with life, breathing deep praline chestnut. His cologne smells fresh with a twist of sweet tang, like an ice cold lemonade that kisses you good afternoon during the hottest days.

His skin was halfway between his stunning butter pecan to his deeper toffee with a little rosy flush. He chews on his bottom lip with a cheeky smile, he loved when you got that look in your eye. Hoseok drops his arms and places his hands over the front of his waist, shimmying his shoulders and hips.

Seamless. Your eyes dip down to where his shorts began, coasting a hair above the middle of his thigh. The crotch of his shorts hug his slim little mound and dip in touch, showing exactly where his pussy lips split apart. His inner thighs stretch and sway with each little happy swing of his hips.

“What do you think? What do you think?” He squeals, turning to the side and glancing at himself in the mirror. Your heart beats a little harder for a moment, reminding you that it’s still there. His ass bounces just slightly under the give of the spandex, curving gorgeously from the small of his back.

“I like it a lot, and I can really move in it!” He turns his back to you, arching slightly and spreading his feet before bouncing his ass.

“Keep playing and we won’t make it to Jin’s barbecue.” You wag a finger at him, turning back toward the mirror in the bathroom.

“You know, we could do it right now.” His lips lift into a smile, eyes shimmering with thought unholy. You knew then that you were in for it, you just didn’t know when.

“Not a chance, Jin won’t ever let it go.”

You should’ve thought that the heat was disgusting, abhorrent. Although you couldn’t bring yourself to feel it, something about it was nostalgic.

The sun’s rays burned your skin in a way that made pleasant fuzzies creep into your chest. Your forehead is damp, but it doesn’t drip. The light outside was clearer, defining the world’s colors.

Sinewy, fibrous clouds spread and stretch over the expanse of blue overhead. The breeze is ever changing, gusts that warm you and gusts that cool you in concatenation.

Jin’s fence is built of high, wood stained cognac. He didn’t fix the pool for the season yet, everyone preferred to swim during the thick of temperature. You enter through the back, hailed with the warmth of friendship.

The first to approach you is Taehyung, the flush of his cheeks is of the sun’s kiss, not yet too many beers had. The can swishes in his hand as he wraps his arms around you, giving your back a firm pat before pressing his cheek to yours in a kiss.

You rub his back just before he pulls away and greets Hoseok just the same. Nearest to you is Yoongi, to which you slink up behind his chair and sling an arm over his shoulder. His fisherman’s hat brushes your ear as his warmer cheek presses against yours, greeting him.

Jimin’s sandals scrape over the concrete bricks as he approaches you, arms wide open with two damp bottles of ale in between his thumb and index finger. He eagerly receives your kiss in greeting, pressing the bottle into your palm before moving to show love to his old friend.

You enter the semicircle of chairs, kissing Namjoon from his chair before you are yanked into Jungkook’s embrace. Leaning on the tips of your toes, you kiss him and squirm with a noise of alarm.

“Sweaty?” He chuckles, squeezing you before stepping back.

“Ew, yes.” You catch on to his laughter, brows scrunching together.

“Wouldn’t be as bad if hyung cleaned his pool so we could swim.”

“So you could throw us all in one by one? I think I’m good.”

Jungkook runs his fingers through his damp hair, combing it back. “You’ll be alright, he’ll get it cleaned soon anyway.”

You shake your head, lovingly patting his shoulder before making your way toward the grill.

Jin stands back from the smoke, spatula in one hand and the other propped on his hip. His face is hard with concentration, breaking into something relaxed as you approach.

“This should have been a potluck, I’m already tired.” He wipes the sweat from his forehead over the back of his wrist, leaning down to receive your greeting.

Old friends, new friends, friends of friends, and friends of Jin slowly fill out the rest of the backyard, growing a sense of liveliness about you.

You eventually needed a break from the music, dropping yourself in a chair with a plastic cup full of something wild. Jin’s Juice, he liked to dub it. Something that opened the back of your brain and let loose the versions of yourself trapped under your skin, behind the glass of mirrors.

It really should’ve tasted like gasoline, this stuff. But he managed to make it taste like the past. Near an elixir, it was your tongue’s choice to decide what it was. Your tongue this time decided to open, you’re pleased with the mouth smacking tang of lemon, balanced with kisses of sugar and bubbles that sparkle over your tongue.

You pant, carefully pouring away the rest of the drink into a mouthful before tossing it toward the garbage can nearby.

Hoseok notices immediately that something is amiss, slipping his way through a thicket of dancing bodies, swinging, undulating limbs and parts. The pit of his stomach is warm and glowing with coconut rum. His giddy smile widens into a grin that bares his beautiful top row of chompers when he spots you.

He flounces over, dropping himself on your lap, slowly leaning his back against your chest. He turns his head, his lips clumsily passing over the folds of your ear.

“... thought you left.”

The tickling of his breath makes your stomach flutter, you’re not in a place to hide your feelings right now.

“Nah, it’s just hot.” You murmur against the nape of his neck.

He hums in reply, leaning forward and planting his hands on your knees to plant his feet properly. You lean your head back against the chair. You weren’t sure if it was on purpose or happened to be your luck, but Hoseok fully sat himself on your bulge, thighs spread over yours.

The music crawls up his toes like a current, rushing up his body. His shoulders sway back and forth, though it doesn’t take long for his hips to follow.

He glances dramatically over his shoulder at you, lips pouting and spreading around word after word in the current song. His lower back curves and swivels with each wicked grind forward. He spreads his thighs further apart, bouncing his ass over your bulge.

Your lips together, popping out around a single word. “Please.” Your voice is lost in the sound. Your hand molds under the thick of his ass, squeezing it.

He’s only fueled by the burn and yearn, tongue poking through his teeth. His chest bounces with a chuckle that could only be called satisfaction.

Your hand slips around the back of his thigh, dragging your fingertips over his stomach. The small links of his waist chain graze against your palm

A whisper from the back of your skull reminds you that the sun is still high and you must respect the decency of other eyes. He was beautiful, pulling you under, bewitched.

You swallow noisily, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around his waist to cease his grinding.

“Bathroom.”

His brows shoot up in surprise, stunned before he squirms in your arms as you shift to stand.

“What? Wait!” He pouts as you set him on his feet before straightening your legs.

You don’t rush, rather saunter away as casually as possible. Your cock throbs helplessly against your thigh as you push open the screen door and step into the chilly house before closing it behind you.

It felt eerily empty since nobody chose to enter unless they needed to get to the bathroom. You pass through the living room and round the couch, silently thanking Jin for having a bathroom downstairs.

You pull the door closed behind you, locking it before dumping yourself over the sink with a groan. You glance at yourself in the mirror, your lids hung low with the buzz floating through your body. You flick at the sink knob, running the water.

It wouldn’t be an instant fix as it went in the movies, but it’d provide you with enough focus to will away your hard on. Blankly you watch the tap run.

It didn’t take Hoseok long to set it in his thick skull that he was going to get it from you no matter what it took. He entered the house just as you shut the door behind you. He approaches the door, placing his hand over the handle. Locked.

He knew well enough that the lock on this door was weak. In fact, it played a role in a lot of pranks over the years.

He whirls around, jogging toward the kitchen. He knew Jin’s place like the back of his hand, just as they all knew each others. Third drawer to the left, it rolls open with ease. He grabs a butter knife and shuts away the rest.

By memory, he lodges the rounded tip into the strike, pushing back the latch bolt. The door welcomes him in silence as he carefully sets the knife on the vase on the floor. He slips through the crack, before pulling it closed.

You cup your hands under the running water, guiding it up and onto the lower half of your face. The click of the door makes your heart jump, snapping your head toward the door.

“You okay?” He wraps his arms around you from behind, his skin pushes heat through yours. You hadn’t realized how much you’d cooled down already.

“Why are you so hot?” You whined, splashing more water over your cheeks.

“Thank you~” he hummed and giggled as he pressed his forehead against the center of your back.

Although you were well aware he was a cup or can shy of drunk, he seemed to retain his fine motor skills anyway. He slips a hand under the waistband of your leggings, snatching up your softening dick.

You feel a tug in your gut without pause when he seals his grip around your heavy shaft. His fingers slip over the pliant flesh as he rolls your foreskin down with his thumb.

Your resolve is wavering.

He lifts his head, pressing a noisy, wet kiss over the grove connecting the back of your ear to your head. You press your lips together, huffing as a shiver crawls up to your shoulders. You knock the faucet closed with a damp fist, gripping the counter with your other hand.

His knuckles roll under the fabric of your leggings as he drags the head of your cock over the ridges of his palm.

“I’m so fucking wet right now, we can be quick.” He muttered into your ear, biting gently on your lobe before sucking it between his lips.

The tip of his index finger circled your frenulum before he presses down and scrubs his finger back and forth. Your toes curl with a groan that swells into a sweet moan.

“Ugh, I love it when I can hear you,” he releases your ear with a pop before moving to work his way down. He finds a place that seems tasty enough, laving his tongue over his before sealing his lips around it.

He slows his assault on your frenulum, wrapping his index and thumb around your glans, squeezing and jerking it.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip with a growl, he washed away your manner of reason much too easily. Your mind cracks into fragments unseen, blown away by his breath.

You make an ugly choked noise, losing rhythm in your breath when wet squelching fills the air.

“God, yes.” He breathes, lifting his fingers to his mouth to smear some of your precum over his tongue before squeezing his fingers back around the head of your cock.

“You’re so fucking nasty.” Your voice was strained. He dug his teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, tightening his hold on the head of your cock.

Your vision breaks and sparkles. There should have been dents in the counter from your grip. He drags the tip of his tongue around the rosying flesh surrounding your bite mark.

The tip of his nose traces up the column of your neck, meandering to the back. Your hair stands on end. There was something about that spot that made you lose control, and he loved to abuse it.

He presses an opened mouth kiss to the nape of your neck, suckling gently. You swallow noisily as his canines drag over it.

Thick, heavy expletives roll over your gums when he bites down. Only the noise of your heartbeats and blood rushing to your ears is apparent.

“God, take your fucking shorts off.”

The trembling growl in your timbre sends a bounty of blood rushing to his pussy, it felt like his thighs were sticking together. He places a sympathetic kiss over your dark bite mark, shuffling back to work his garment down.

He manages to get one leg out before you shove him against the light grey wall.

“Bet you’re so wet that it’d just go in.”

He whines, throwing his arms around your shoulders as you lift one of his thighs and prop it on your hip.

You grip your dick and swish the head in between his blood swollen folds.

“Look at how fucking red it got.” Your cock jumps in your hand as you give it a few pumps, pulling back your foreskin. You nudge the tip against his clit, licking your lips when he jerks his hips away with a squeal.

“Too much?” You sneer, returning to pumping the head in between his lips. You didn’t fail to catch each squeak when the head of your cock caught around the edge of his hole.

His fists curl around handfuls of your shirt as you press your way in.

“You gonna get me pregnant tonight? Mnh, I didn’t take my birth control this morning.” He keens, gently dropping his forehead against yours. It hardly took a brush of his lips against yours before you consumed his mouth in a filthy kiss.

You curl your tongue around his, sucking it into your mouth noisily. You grind your hips upward, fully settling your hips against his. His moan is muffled by your lips, tongue slipping over the backs of your gums.

You release him with a smack, licking up the traces of vanilla and coconut from the seam of your lips.

“Play with my tits,” he arches his back against the wall, pushing his chest toward you.

You shove a hand under his top, shoving the fabric out of your way with your wrist. He sings for you as your skin begins to thump against his with each thrust.

The pad of your thumb scrubs over the center of his nipple, squeezing a moan out of him.

“Fuck, you gonna give me a baby?” He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, throwing his head back with a cheeky smile when you rut in deeper.

His thighs are tingling, it felt so… otherworldly when you went in raw.

His brows knit together, his lips falling apart with a breathy moan. You clumsily shove his crop top further up his chest, leaning in and taking his nipple into your mouth with a wet suckle.

You occupy your free hand by moving it below. You push apart his outer lips with your fingers, gently sweeping your thumb over the head of his clit.

Hoseok immediately seizes up, squirming against you with a cry.

“Please!” He squealed, his inner thighs spasmed in such a way that his knees nearly buckled.

You roll the tip of his nipple between your teeth, scrubbing the tip of your tongue over it. You release it and kiss around the edges of his areola before treating his other nipple to the same.

“You gonna cum on this dick?” You murmur, digging the heel of your thumb over his little pink nub.

“Oh my god,” he hisses while tilting his hips. “Fuck me harder!”

You move toward his neck, nosing at his shoulder. The clapping of your skin rings in your ears.

Squelching, squirting, wet, disgusting. His breath catches in his throat before coming out as a delighted croon.

His cream spreads over your length and adds a slip that makes your thighs flex.

The beating of yours and his heart takes further residence in your ears. Too much.

Too much. Too much. Too much. Toomuchtoomuchtoomuchtoomuch.

You cum with a rattling groan that sets your limbs aglow, burning and tingling that you can’t get away from. You feel the comforting presence of his nails dragging circles over the canvas of your shoulder blades.

Your erratic breath follows his in canon, slowing to synchronicity as you remember all that surrounds you.

He meets you with a gooey smile, his kiss sets off warm white bursts in your head.

“I love you.”

Jin sent a text to their group chat later, asking why there was a butter knife on the vase by the bathroom.

#sub!bts #sub!idol #sub idol #sub!jhope x domme!reader #sub jhope x domme reader #domme!reader #domme reader #sub kpop #dom reader

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spasmsofthought · 3 years

Text

fractures. (zuko x reader)

This is totally a free for all because I haven’t read any of the comics or watched Legend of Korra at all. Part 2 maybe, if you all think it’s worth it??

Kinda angsty, and mostly political - but y’all, I think Zuko learned how to be a politican as Fire Lord. This is me trying to explore that a little bit.

Like, comment, reblog! Thank you for your support, as always! xo

+ + +

The first time you see him, he is touring the Earth kingdom as the Fire Lord.

It’s been at least two years since he’s been crowned. It’s been two years since a Fire Nation flag last hung over the arches of every town entrance in the Earth kingdom. It’s been two years since a lot of things.

Peace is a hard custom to keep when all you have known is war. Peace is a foreign language when all people know how to communicate is its opposite.

The Fire Nation colonies are no longer known as such. Instead, villages and previous colonies outside of the former Earth Kingdom walls have formed into clans of their own. With the Earth King travelling during the latter part of the war, leadership has been thrown up in the air. There was no one to trust; especially after the Fire Nation invasion of Ba Sing Se. In all the chaos of the war, though, the de facto mantle of leadership among the small number of people in your village fell onto your family. You aren’t aware of the reason why, but being raised in a Fire Nation colony by a mother from the Northern Water Tribe and a father from the edges of the Earth Kingdom makes people feel something like safety in a land subjugated by an unrelenting and ever-growing superpower.

When the crowning of Zuko the Fire Lord happens, with Avatar Aang right by his side, the news spreads rapidly, even across the broken networks of communication established among the clan leaders. But even in the middle of developing a new world, there is still brokenness. There is still pain. There is still suffering.

The world does not seem to heal the way people want it to: very slowly, in pieces rather than in a whole. There is still prejudice and hatred. Very little is still solved with words.

It is the first time a foreigner has walked the land your people call home in two years.

It is the first time people see the color red on someone in two years; before, during the Invasion, red was what everyone saw on every passerby. Travel was severely limited and people mostly kept to their homes in fear of what Fire Nation guards would do to them on top of the restrictions and heavily imposed taxes.

When he is directed to your doorstep by everyone in the village, the only one out of your family able to host him is you. Your father died in a skirmish near Ba Sing Se’s walls on his yearly pilgrimage to trade in a way that would have helped support your village during a time of scarcity two and a half years ago, right before the conquering of Ba Sing Se. Your mother is a figure made up only of stories. A figure who passed soon after your entrance into the world.

For such an imposing figure, he wears very little ceremonial garb. It seems that he understands there is little need for formal ceremonial clothing in this community of people simply trying to survive in a world clawing back from the brink of total destruction.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” He begins with, bowing with hands formed in a traditional Fire Nation greeting.

You bow back similarly, using a specific form of ceremonial bow used by formal authority figures here in the Earth Kingdom. Your hands move in a sweeping motion, directing the Fire Lord to a low table in the middle of the small living room your house has. The table settings are sparse and there is no fancy silverware, but there seems to be something in his countenance that relaxes slightly for some reason.

“Please make yourself at home,” You try to make yourself seem soft. Yielding. Compliant. “Would you like any tea?”

He nods, holding the simple cup up off the wooden structure slightly as you lift the tea pot and fill it halfway with the steaming liquid. You set it back down and it is then that Zuko surprises you for the first time. He nods his head towards your own cup. There is a pause, your mind trying to process the simple action, before you are moving your cup up off the table as well, watching the jasmine tea slowly fill up space that was previously empty.

He gestures a toast to you, holding his cup close to yours while nodding, before he takes a sip. Out of respect, you take a swallow as well before you set your cup back down on the small coaster you were told your mother knit while pregnant with you. Blue and green repeat each other in a circular pattern, reminding you of how beautiful the two colors look together. Reminding you of your own roots face-to-face with someone who carries a vast and rich legacy of his own.

“If it’s alright, I would like to skip the formality of small talk and get to the real conversation. What is the purpose of your visit here?” For such an abrupt change in tone, he doesn’t seem surprised. He sets his cup down, too.

“We would like to begin discussions with your clan about officially coming under the government of the Earth kingdom again.”

You have to take a deep breath in.

When you were little, your father always told you tales of his land’s history; of its vastness and proud strength. As you grew older, however, the tales turned into lessons of caution. He taught you to not trust the central government of the Earth kingdom for a reason. A reason you had soon found out had little to do with his own faith in the people he belonged to and more to do with the fact that the governing body had been crumbling for a long time. There had been a reason there was local autonomy among so many cities and villages, especially during the War. Despite the belief shared among many that the Earth kingdom remained a single political entity, the vastness of land kept that belief more of an idea than something that was practically applied.

“I would love to see the Earth kingdom become the nation it was before the War, but there is a reason my people remain wary of allying ourselves under a central government again. We know about the details of the Coup of Ba Sing Se; we know the corruption that spread vast and wide among politicians, generals, and other administrators.”

“I have been working with the Earth king very closely these past two years. It is our plan to host a gathering at the palace in Ba Sing Se with all local clan and tribe leaders to truly take your input into account while we finalize the development of the Earth kingdom’s government after this long period of strife. That is why I am here, to formally invite you...”

You stop him before he can go any further, “Thank you, but my place is with my people.”

“The Earth king desires that his nation once again be strong and united and at peace once again.” You want to know if he has always been an apt politican, or if this has something he has had to learn in these past two years. You wonder how he mediates both the needs of his own people and those of the world without faltering.

“My experiences have taught me many lessons, as I am sure yours have taught you specific lessons as well. I have very little trust in a central government that before has previously become so easily fractured by whispers of greed and silent grabs for power, and can become so again.”

“There are specific checks and balances in place so that never happens again. I have personally seen to these assurances in the formal writing of the government documents that have been extensively drawn up.”

“How can I even trust you?”

“I-” His mouth opens but more words from your mouth stop him before he can even begin. So much for being compliant.

“I know the legacy of your family. I have witnessed the destruction your family has caused on this land; on the entire world. I do not know you personally. I only know that you have come to ask me to join a government I have little interest in letting rule my people once more when I am right here to make sure they are provided for and kept safe. There is very little about the world I can trust right now.”

You begin to wonder, in the seconds of silence that linger afterward, if you have officially screwed up any chance at the peace people have been so longing for: here and abroad. You want to seem strong, but there always seems to be the chance to second-guess yourself. To back-up and take a new route.

“I only know what it is like to be a new leader. I cannot offer you trust you are unwilling to take, but I can offer you the assurance that the Earth king, the Avatar and I will do whatever it takes to make sure the world is whole again.”

You know he means it. Despite the solemnness of his face and his scar as a reminder to you of the stories of his own life that have yet to be told, there is a fire in his amber eyes that contains no violence, only the longing for the same thing you want: peace.

“My uncle would praise your tea-making skills,” A small corner of his mouth lifts up. Your eyes track the movement for a small second before you are staring down at his cup, too.

“I could give you a bag to take to him to give the next time you see him,” An olive branch, maybe, in light of your previous words.

War has its own effects on everyone, including yourself. Trusting others has not been a virtue of yours for quite some time.

“I’m sure he would love that.” It is a brief glimpse into something about himself, you are sure, that he smiles slightly. A genuine smile. Despite the title he holds, there is nothing but humility. You tuck that observation into you heart to ponder on later.

How can the Fire Lord be so at home in this run-down mill of a home? How can he be so comfortable in the presence of a stranger; a stranger who opposes him in his objective to make peace in a way that he seeks but you do not want?

You find yourself reaching for a stored bag of tea leaves before you can think about it.

As you hold the bag out in the palm of your right hand, your left resting in your lap, his fingers brush yours. He takes the bag and tucks it into what you assume is a pocket on the inside of his simple cloak. The warmth fades as quickly as it came, and for a moment you want to reach out for more of it.

You stop yourself before you actually do such a ridiculous thing as reach out for the hand of the Fire Lord.

But the feeling stays with you long after you tentatively promise to keep in touch with him as he graciously exits for the day. It stays with you for a long, long time.

#avatar: the last airbender #Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar: tla #fire lord zuko #prince zuko #avatar zuko #Zuko #zuko x reader #zuko fanfic #zuko x y/n #zuko x oc #zuko imagine #zuko preference #zuko one shot #avatar the last airbender one shot #atla zuko

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teabunnypaws · 3 years

Text

Welp.

I did it.

What makes it WORSE? The fact that while writing one Hawks x Reader fic, I got distracted and wrote a WHOLE ASS DIFFERENT FIC. I don’t really have a beta reader, so I edited it as best I could and just..be gentle with me yall. This is my first fic in 10 years oof. This is my first time writing in this POV so have mercy haha, I know it gets kinda messy toward the end but hopefully it’s not awful.

Unconditional Love (Hawks x Reader)

Summary: You (bunny themed pro-hero) and Hawks have found balance and understanding in your busy lives. Sometimes the greatest show of love is saying nothing and doing everything.

Word#: 4088

Tags: fluff, cuddling with no pants, fluff and MORE FLUFF, pet names (honeybun, baby bun, toasty bun), mentions of getting a tan, Hero Reader with Bunny Quirk, (If more tags are needed, just lemme know this is my first time posting like this so oof)

Txt: Baby?

Txt: Loooovebiiiird~

Txt: I miss you 💕

You smiled as you sent the text message, comfortable in bed, your teeth biting softly at the corner of your lip. Your long ears gave a small flick as you basked in the cool of the bedroom. It was lit only with dim fairy lights, the sound of the standing fan nearby rumbling through the air, soothing you further as you cuddled up in your sleep shirt. It had been a long day, and you had just gotten back from a grueling two week deployment. Your shoulders hurt, your calves were killing you...which was saying something considering your quirk.

Unlike Rumi, you were built for speed rather than punishing power...but there were days where even you were pushed to your limits and this had been one of them. After a quick small meal and a hot shower, you could finally unwind for the weekend, a gentle smile on your face as you glanced over to Keigo's pillow next to you.

You had come home with your heavy duffel on your shoulder to be met by a bright eyed and apologetic Keigo in the doorway. He helped it off your shoulder and peppered you in kisses as he gathered you to him, fully decked out in his hero gear, visor pushed up into his hair.

You basked in the warmth of his body around you, the softness of his wings as they brushed against the part of your back exposed by your costume. The sensation of their silkiness against your skin made you shiver a bit, your tail giving a small wiggle of delight. His hands were also so warm, soft in pliant leather that rested on your hips, fingertips brushing softly inward as though he wanted to pet your tail. It was one of your favorite things about him, how he always savored you like that.

"Sorry honeybun, I gotta fly. Duty calls y'know? He had murmured against your lips, his eyes worried and gentle as he regarded you. But instead of what he had seen before with others who had been in his arms, the hurt and sadness, your eyes met his with a gaze that held one thing that never failed to take his breath away: understanding. Your hands slid up to cup his cheeks, pulling him down for a kiss, your lips met softly, sweetly.

His eyes fluttered closed and his shoulders relaxed, arms and wings tightening about you just a moment as he soaked you in. A soft sigh pulled from you both as you parted, a small smirk curling your lips as you reached up and carefully pulled his visor down settling it in place.

"Stay safe out there hotshot."

The smile that lit up his face rivaled the sun and his wings ruffled in his joy. "You got it baby bun." He gave you a playful wink and that trademark beautiful smile "I'll be back soon~" and out he had gone, leaving you to unpack and settle in.

You weren't expecting a reply right away, As Keigo or rather..Hawks, tended to be busy with his patrol. Not that you minded. Both of you were pro heroes and even though you were nowhere near as busy as he was, there were times where you both had to bid each other goodbye for the sake of duty.

Sometimes weeks at a time.

You didn't bother to tell him where you were when you had to leave. He *knew* where you were thanks to the feather you wore around your neck pressing to your skin. Not only did it let him know where you were but, it gave Hawks the feeling of your resting heartbeat, the hum of happiness in your chest as he began to reply.

It was a bond unlike most had ever seen. The two of you tied at the hip, but at the same time, never impeding the work the other did...even if it meant being apart for long stints.

Apart, but never alone~

Your eyes sparkled when you saw his reply:

Lovebird: I miss you too baby bun~

Txt: Come cuddle me?

There was a pause then...a rather long one. One long enough for you to pull up your emails and flip through before his message popped up on the top of your screen.

Lovebird: I'll be there as soon as I'm done ok? Keep the bed warm for me~

Txt: Fiiiiiine~

And you of course attached a picture of yourself pouting in the low light of the room. Your hair strewn softly about your pillows, ears lowered and bottom lip poked out. To put the cherry on top you were wearing your favorite sleep shirt: an oversized Hawks merchandise shirt the same color as his wings of course; the feather keepsake he gave you resting on its chain and settled about your heart.

There was no text message as a reply, the feather giving all the answer you needed. It shifted and moved to brush against the curve of your cheek and you smiled, gathering it to your lips and murmuring softly against the vane. "Love you…" Your eyes closed, the gentle fluffiness brushing against your lips, and you could almost feel his thumb against them.

It would be a good five hours before you heard the slight rustle of the balcony window and the familiar sound of your boyfriend clambering through. You shifted, rolling over and regarding him in the low light of the room as he stood, looking over to you with gentle loving eyes.

"Hey (y/n), I'm home honeybun…" His voice was still cheerful, relieved to be home but low with his exhaustion. He didn't look too worse for wear, no huge chunks of missing feathers or anything like that, but that tiredness hung heavy on his frame like a wet coat.

"Welcome home…" you replied, shifting on your side to watch him with a small sleepy blink. Hawks sighed, giving a small smile before pulling his visor off and placing it on the bedside table, his work phone was tugged from his pocket, plugged in and plopped next to it haphazardly.

His boots and socks were the next to go, the crimson winged hero too tired to put any sort of effort into stripping out of his work clothes in any sort of sexy manner, but to you?

He was gorgeous.

The slight flex of his shoulders as he hovered his feathers out of the way to wriggle his coat off was downright sinful, your eyes watching as he dropped it on the floor. The next off was his shirt, tugged off over his head, yet another tired sigh coming as he let it join his coat. One hand coming to smooth his hair back as sharp teeth found the end of one gloved fingertip biting and pulling the leather to remove it and let it drop, soon to be joined by its mate on the ever growing pile. The buckle of his pants came undone and you would have offered to help him with that if he didn't look so drained. Plus...you were still tired and sore yourself.

And just like that...Hawks was gone. Shed and discarded on the floor and put aside for the time being.

Left in his boxers, Keigo flopped face down onto the bed with a fluff of red as his feathers settled back into place. He pushed an exhausted groan into his pillow, not noticing that his dramatic belly flop had made you bounce slightly.

"Hey, we just got this mattress..don't go breaking it just yet." You teased.

"Baby bun..if I wasn't so exhausted I'd show you how I'd really break this mattress and you know it." Came the smothered reply and he laughed softly, gently rolling over to face you with his arms out. "C'mere…" his eyes were honeyed amber, warm and so inviting, even in the low light of the room.

It took less than a second for you to slot yourself firmly between those strong arms, nosing under his jawline while Keigo buried his face in your hair and took a deep breath. One wing draped over you, dropping you both into relative darkness and you hummed in contentment. His exhaling sigh came with slacked shoulders, his hand rubbing quick circles in the small of your back, just above your tail.

You pressed a smile to his neck and murmured softly "Slower please?" Your hand slid up his back in a lazy methodical way as a demonstration. "Like that?" You asked, loving the way his muscles felt below your touch. It was like a musician destringing an overtaut violin bow, another sigh heaved from his frame and he hummed lowly as he seemed to revel in being asked to relax his quickened pace.

"Sure thing babe….whatever you want.." he murmured, his hand shifting to a slow easy pace. Keigo smiled as he trailed his fingertips up and down your back, admiring the lines of your frame, and the softness of your skin under his merchandise. "Y'know...I love seeing you in that...wearin’ my colors...my name on you.." He said softly. "Looks even better on you than before…."

"Oh yeah? Why's that hm?" You asked, nosing gently under his jawline. Your nose twitched as an unfamiliar cologne hit it...a smell that you weren't used to being on him, but nonetheless it was sublime. Woodsy and warm, slightly sweet and undeniably Keigo.

"Probably because you're so tan now...heh, I knew you said you were running around outside a lot and you weren't kidding." He leaned back and grinned at you. "My little toasty bun, I'm gonna eat you all up~" Keigo growled playfully, biting gently along your shoulder in a few places with a soft noise in the back of his throat.

"Ah! Keigo~" you squealed and squirmed, laughing against his neck. "Yeah I'm a toasty bun, and you smell nice. New cologne?" You asked, nuzzling eagerly back into the crook of his neck. Hm..no not there..

A slight tip of your face where you could feel the soft brush of his facial hair against the bridge of your nose, the smell much stronger there. You hummed your delight, rubbing back and forth, the slight scratch of his hair soothing you, allowing your ears to tip back.

"Nah, new face wash. Rumi got it for me..I wasn't sure if I liked it, but if it gets *this* reaction, I think I might just have a winner on my hands." He said with a playful waggle of his brows, earning a laugh from you against his neck.

"Yeah I'd say so." You hummed, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, settling your foreheads together. You simply paused there...soaking it all in, his presence, the softness of his breath against your lips, the feel of those cool slightly calloused hands brushing against your skin and hiking the back of your shirt as they went.

"Lovebird?"

"Hm?" Keigo replied, peeling open one eye to regard you with a small smile. "What's up (y/n)?"

"I love you." You said softly, giving a small peck of your lips to his, earning yourself a grin. As he began to open his mouth to reply, your own grin flicked over your face as you began your assault.

"I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.." Again and again, you murmured the phrase, each time punctuating it with a small quick kiss on a different part of his face. You could feel his shoulders shake with laughter, his head tipping to try and return the assault, but at the moment, you had him on the ropes.

All he could do was accept your love and laugh as again and again, it was peppered into his skin with gentle affection and insistent whispers. "I love you. I love you. I love youuuu~" You cooed, the last one given with a veritable rain of kisses leaning up over him, pausing to linger the last one at his lips, allowing you to look into his eyes.

So beautiful they were...like melted honey as they met your own. His breaths came in soft little puffs, quickly warming hands settled against you and he chuckled. "Well that was quite a statement. Allow me to retort~" A wicked grin crossed his face and he used a bit of leverage to roll you halfway under him, not being able to hold back a laugh as your squeal of delight filled the air.

His kisses had no words, but none were needed as he peppered them all over your face and neck, your hands clutching about his neck and shoulders as giggles pulled from you nonstop.

Oh that sound.

That beautiful...beautiful sound. All for him. One of the few reasons why this hero gig was worth it; to come home and settle next to you. What made it even better was that he could feel it. Every rippling vibration seeping into him through the feather you wore and he pushed up on his hands, looking down at you.

All the genuine joy, all the happiness, it was for him, caused by him. Keigo...not Hawks...this precious adoration reserved for who he was...and not who he allowed others to see him as.

It nearly brought him to tears.

You took a moment to breathe, your giggles dying down, tiny tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you looked up at him with sheer adoration in your gaze. Your hair was messy and spread over the pillow below you, your hands slipping off him to rest gently against the mattress.

Your shirt had shifted during the assault, slipping slightly down one shoulder, bearing the soft plane of skin to him and the sight of you made his heart ache in the best way. A sweet twisting fullness that left him nearly breathless as he watched you, his wings relaxing softly along with his shoulders.

Confused at his unusual silence, you looked up at him, giving a small quirk of a shy smile, feeling your cheeks warm. “What?” You asked, your voice soft and flustered. “Keigooo….What?” You insisted when your initial question got no reply, but instead a warm, loving smile.

"You're beautiful babybun...y'know that?" Keigo murmured, the feather around your neck lifting to trail its tip against your lips. "And it's a goddamn shame I'm so fucking exhausted." He laughed breathlessly, his eyes low and hungry in the dim light. A playful smile curled your lips at that and you pressed a kiss to the tip of his feather.

"That makes it a double shame then because trust me hot shot, you’re not the only one who’s dead on their feet. Soooo to me, that means we just have to get some sleep and who knows~" You grinned up at him then, a hand coming to brush against the afterfeather and up to where it attached to your necklace. You relished in the full body shiver he gave, his eyes fluttering closed, his teeth sinking slightly into the corner of his mouth.

"We might just be in shape to handle some…."

"Morning exercise?" Keigo offered, smoldering topazine eyes locked onto yours, his voice low and sultry. His wings were lifted high, flared slightly to subtly show off his plumage as his instincts demanded.

"Mhmmm~" you purred in return, letting your hand slip from the feather to gather him to you, giving a giggle at the small noise he made at being pulled out of his display and rolled back onto his side. His wings gave a quick flap, adjusting to keep himself from laying on them, and he give a low chuckle.

“Well in that case, let’s get some sleep..You know me (y/n), I love to help you stretch those beautiful legs of yours~” Keigo teased, his hands sliding down the soft curve of your exposed thigh to your knee and back up.

You hummed softly in your delight as you shifted, rolling over onto your side to stretch your arms out comfortably. It always confused you honestly, how romantic shows and movies would have people cuddling to sleep facing one another. The first time you’d tried that with Keigo, your arm had gone horribly numb and you couldn’t sleep worth a damn.

This though? Your back snug against his strong chest with his arm draped over you at juuust the right spot, one found through MUCH trial and error and many complaints about his forearm digging into your ribs. This was perfect...and you sighed comfortably, your ears lowering as you heard Keigo shift, slipping his arm through the slot in the special pillow you’d asked support to make for you. This way his arm didn’t go numb and you got to have a nice pillow to sleep on.

Despite being heroes, you both were still human and there were limits to what you could tolerate. Comfort was a necessity when it came to your lives, and needless to say, you two had cuddling down to an -art-.

“And can I also say that I’m not a religious man by any stretch of the word, but I thank whatever deity is listening that you hate wearing sleep pants?” Keigo continued, a little huffing laugh coming from you as you wiggled your tail against his stomach earning a laugh from him as he scooted back just a bit to avoid the attack.

“H-hey! I’m just being honest!” He whined, and you smirked over your shoulder at him as you grabbed the small remote on the bed and tapped it, turning the lights off and dropping the both of you into darkness.

“I know you are Keigo~ That’s one of the things I love about you..” You murmured softly, feeling him tense just a little before he smiled and hummed his agreement into your hair.

“Yeah? What else do you love about me?” he asked, his voice soft next to your ear.

“Hmmm well one of them is poking me in the butt.” You snickered, earning an embarrassed huff from him.

“Well that guy has a mind of his own, I’m not apologizing. He knows quality when he sees it.” Keigo snarked, smiling into your hair.

“Oh does he?” You smirked as you closed your eyes. “I love your heart...your laugh. How you absolutely suck at making pancakes.” The offended scoff that followed only made your smirk curl to a smile.

“I love how you complete me…I’d go on, but we did say we needed some sleep and if I don’t stop there we’ll be here until the sun comes up.” You sighed softly and you didn’t miss the slight tightening of his arm and wing around you.

“Aw honeybun, you’re gonna make me all sappy…” He pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, his eyes closing as he lingered there. “We complete each other y’know? You’re my missing piece...what made all this shit mean something again..” A deep breath and a sigh against your skin and he shifted, getting a bit more comfortable. “Sleep tight (y/n), I love you…”

“G’night Keigo..I love you too..”

Taking a deep breath, you sighed it out, Keigo’s warmth and his soft breathing against your ear combined with the steady hum of the fan and the quiet murmur of the city outside your window was your lullaby, pulling you comfortably into a deep sleep. The smile on your face never slipped away as you rested there...after all...you had some morning exercise to look forward to with your best partner~

Love...trust...

It was what held your relationship together through all of the nonsense that was going on in your lives. You knew of course about the league of villains, about what he had to do. Those big ears of yours weren’t just for show...and you still remember the fear on his face when you had told him about what you had known.

You had been on your patrol, (h/n) and Hawks, him in the air, you along the ground, but the two of you had settled on the roof of an abandoned warehouse for a break as the sun began to dip past the buildings. Moving to sit on the edge of the roof, you sighed and laid back on it, letting the wind ruffle your hair and the fur of your ears before you broke the silence.

“Hey Hawks?” “What’s up (h/n)?” “I’ve got a hypothetical for you.”

“Ooohoho? I do love a good hypothetical~ hit me.”

“So! Hypothetically, if someone finds out that someone they love is going deep undercover and having to do something that is diametrically opposed to what they stand for in order to protect the greater good. What do you think that someone would do?”

Your eyes had met and Hawks had an absolutely unreadable expression on his face, the fear in those topazine eyes and how he had frozen to the spot was something you had never seen before. Just like that, the roles had been reversed. The predator had become prey. He had been trembling and you of course had noticed, but your face had stayed calm.

“Well, seems like cat’s got your tongue Feathers, so….I’ll give my answer first and you can say yours.” You hummed, shifting to sit up and letting your legs dangle over the edge of the roof and you kicked them slightly, your ears perked as you admired the sunset which was quickly drenching the city in twilight.

“I think, that person...if they truly understood their loved one, would know what they have to do is important...and just because they might have to do something bad, doesn’t mean they like it..or that it changes who they are at their heart.” You mused, your fingers coming up to trail your fingers against the feather around your neck.

“And of course, they would understand that their loved one COULDN’T say anything because...well that kinda defeats the whole purpose of being undercover right?” You looked over your shoulder at him giving a sweet smile and a tilt of your head as you picked up the feather and held it gently to your pulse point.

“So of course, that person would never say anything...because that would only hurt their loved one and they would just do their best to be there for them and support them when they come back home. What do you think Hawks?”

Hawks continued to stare and then swallowed the dry lump in his throat as he tried to process just what the fuck you just said. You...you knew...how the FUCK did you find out?! His mind was rushing, trying to think of something to say, something to DO...what could he do?! Did Endeavor know that you knew?!

What took him off guard the most though, was the calmness that you looked at him with. Those (e/c) eyes of yours weren’t angry...weren’t betrayed.

Understanding and love...

That was all they held.

The feather at your throat, right over where the blood rushed, held such a poignant meaning to him that it nearly brought him to his knees. You knew how dangerous his feathers could be, how if he had to, he could end your life with a thought...and also...your heartbeat. It was calm. No indication of fear, of lying...which meant that you really weren’t going to say anything.

His tight posture slowly dropped and he gave a breathless laugh, his wings giving a slight shake as he adjusted them, his hands slipping into his pockets as he walked to stand next to you on the edge.

“That’s ah...one hell of a hypothetical there honeybun, but yeah...I think you answered it in a shot.” He chuckled, giving a slight scratch at his chin scruff, looking down at you and his shoulders lowering slightly.

“Yeah? Guess I’m getting better at them!” You giggled, lifting the feather to kiss the center of it before letting it dangle down as you stood and began to stretch yourself out. “I think that’s enough of a break hm? Wanna get back to patrolling?”

“Heh, sure thing~” His voice was the same happy go lucky chirp as always, but those eyes, you could see the relief in them as plainly as his wings. He now had a silent supporter, one who would be there no matter how much blood ended up on his hands and that was something he had never thought he would ever have:

Unconditional love.

#hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x you #keigo x you #bhna #mha x reader #bnha x reader #Tea Drabbles #hawks fluff #hawks x reader fluff #I highkey wanna see about working with a hawks VA to record this #just for SHEER SELF INDULGENCE

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