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#it will probably be useful for me to review after more time passes
fungusqueen · 4 months
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Would anyone want more Spanish-learning posts from me? I keep a Spanish language notebook where I keep notes just for my own reference (including all my notes from class). Depending on how diligently I'm watching a show, I'll try to compile vocabulary lists like the one above, which is basically new (to me) words I've picked up. This list encompasses Season 1 of the Desperate Housewives. It seems like more people are either using Duolingo, or have some increased interest in learning a second language so I figure it might be helpful. Let me know!
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gibbearish · 9 months
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Congrats on sending that application!
THANK UUUUUU
#it was to a dominos and my partner is a gm in training at a different branch and i have over a year delivery driving experience#already and know Exactly How Low Their Standards Are so im not worried about getting it‚ mostly just that my brain will still be too mushy#to handle a job again#but i mean since it is just dominos and im only aiming for part time it hopefully shouldn't be too bad#and i do not care if they don't like me bc my resumes already pretty good as is i don't need a glowing review from dominos#esp bc i could just put my bf down as a dominos reference and theyd probably just Assume i worked for him and call him#instead of the store i actually worked at KWNDLABFKSBFJD#which is v good bc having seen a lot of what goes on behind the scenes on the manager side via my bf. i already know i am#going to cause problems LMAO#i have the Transgender Working In Very Liberal Area Right Next To Very Conservative Area Protection Aura#wherein the bosses here are So Very Scared of getting in trouble for bigotry and want to look sososososo woke. that i can get away#with being way more blunt abt when shit sucks lol#bosses don't really know what to do when The One Openly Transgender One directly calls out unfair expectations to their face#and to be clear i do mean liberal as in Liberal we're still very much in the North Idaho Splash Zone so like#open bigotry doesnt happen and the public will be on your side if it does. but boy do they know actually nothing about it#you know the type i mean kwbfksbfkd#like the best example i can think of is a couple ppl at my last job still she/her'd me long after i started passing as male#and me Being A Transgender™ had made the news rounds#and my other coworkers wouldnt correct them and would just he/him and they/them me back#which im fine w bc thats how my pronouns work is just. idk whatever you think‚ if you wanna she me you can just look dumb LMAO#but crucially 99% of my coworkers Didnt know thats how that worked‚ they just knew im A Transgender and look like a man#and that everyone else didn't use she/her for me anymore‚ so like an actually left place would rightly assume#they were doing it deliberately to be shitty and correct them‚ whereas here theyre just like. ah im sure they just havent noticed#since you went by she/her when you started here#and its like no i dont think the beard i grew halfway through working there went unnoticed actually#given that Thats When The Universal He Himming Started#im rambling again sorry for this word avalanche irt a simple congrats i got distracted JEBFKABFKSBFKDBFMD#anyways. tyvm it was stressful and i still dont want to do it but its out of my hands now so i have to follow through and at least give it#a try and i appreciate the encouragement‚ it rlly did make me feel a lot better just seeing the ask#gibberasks
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badgertracksart · 1 year
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Portfolio advice, from a lead who hires Concept Artists
(This was originally a twitter thread I wrote before the site self imolated, hense it's strange structure.) I wrote this after a weekend of portfolio reviews - 1. Like a maths exam, please please show your working. I want to see thumbs options, mid options and of course a final design.
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2. Arrange your portfolio, I don't want to bounce about between subject matter and pipeline. Your portfolio's narrative should be as strong as your work... 3. Please make worlds that excite the viewer, make them want to go in and explore them, explain to them the interesting parts of the town, or the way the character's hat unfolds. How will this draw the viewer in? 4. As I've said before the majority of your project work is explanatory not mood, make sure your portfolio contains explanatory work. Explained here -
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5. A lot of beautiful post apocolyptic paintings, , but 80% of realistic games and film, we just give the environment artists photo ref, they are capable artists in their own right. Different work in stylised where you do need to create rules for how things can be translated. 6. Production art contains call out sheets, material references and flat graphics. This doesn't have to be your final image, but it should support it.
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7. Design characters on a swatch(es) of the environment they will be viewed in. Not on white. I make swatch backgrounds from screenshots, it avoids assumptions that damage readability. 8. Reverse of this, put people in your environments, show me the scale.
9. It's not a deal breaker for a review, but if you intend to get a job, please show me your work on a screen larger than a smartphone (print outs probably the cheapest option with the best battery life). 10. Please have your contact details clearly visible, and by that I mean email address, I will not pass your social media contact on, I cannot input your form into my tracking system. EMAIL ADDRESS emblazoned and bake it in, sometimes recruiters do funky stuff to pdfs
11. Your portfolio will never feel done, not to you anyway. You will have learnt from your latest pieces and want to apply it to older work. But we know art is a journey. Send your portfolio anyway. I've been in the industry 10+ years and my portfolio is still not 'finished'. 12. If you are applying to an environment centric Concept Art position then please vary your times of day! Golden hour is cool but show me some happy sunny days, looming overcast days, what about at night? Vary your weather too! Sunny snowy day? Rainy Spring day? Stormy night?
13. If you are applying for a character centric Concept Art role then please ensure your portfolio shows a variety of body types and ethnicities. 14. Designing characters for games? Please show back views and feet (!) Many potfolios contain only front views. This is a problem because:
You haven't shown you are considering the design from all angles.
In many games rear view is the main view.
Stop cropping feet.
15. If you are entry / graduating and looking at Portfolios to compare content and standard of yr own work too, look at hired grad/junior artists as opposed to seniors Seniors and leads often have old or personal work in their portfolio which isnt representative of the day job. 16a. Show clearly the intended use case for your Concept Art. Mention the game type in the description. Are these player character designs for a 3rd person adventure game? Then more back views please. Bonus points for diagetic ways of showing health / equipment / role etc.
16b. Are these designs for an FPS? Then really the player view of the gun needs to sell the player style/ choices, in an FPS your weapons are almost your character. Are these world designs? What's the view distance? For an RTS your shapes need to read from above & a distance. 16c. The lack of clarification means I am judging the design in isolation, which both harms the design (you might be considering the backview of a char as the main adventure character.) Or an NPC, their waist up expressions may be important for conveying exposition and mechanics.
16d. Concept art is not separate from gameplay, great concept art serves the game team before it is a good illustration.
17. Play games. A variety of games. Think about them. IMO to be a good concept artist you need to understand the common language & references used by your peers. Also understand the principles and common language your audience are used to. FPS design rules are v.diff from RTS.
18. There are many skills that are needed in concept art, please show them. For example: Graphic design - logos, liveries, typographic use etc. VFX concepts - Abilities, Ambience, motion concepts. Architectural knowledge - How buildings are built! & more but I'm out of space :O
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Better Late Than Never
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Title: Better Late Than Never
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female reader
Word Count: ~2,143
In which the reader’s love language is physical touch, but has never touched Dean…in public.
A/N: I really hope you guys like this one! Thanks so much for reading and for your support. If you have any requests for a fic, feel free to give me a character and a prompt/explanation for what you’d like!
Your love language has always been physical touch. A quick brush of hands here, an innocent kiss to the cheek there. Whether it was your friend or your significant other, touch was just something you used to show that you cared.
So it meant a lot to you when, after you moved in with the Winchesters, Sam had quickly picked up on your love language and allowed you to give him occasional hugs. He’d also gone out of his way to hug you, or even just put a reassuring hand on your shoulder once in a while.
But even though you felt more than comfortable with Sam, you were the first to admit that you’d never so much as given Dean a high five.
In front of others.
In the privacy of an empty bunker or motel room, you and Dean had no problem brushing against each other and exchanging brief touches. Eventually, the brief touches had turned into longer ones, and hands drifted from your shoulder to the small of your back. Then those touches turned into sitting right beside each other, your head resting on his shoulder as he peppered kisses on the top of your head. And after that, kisses on your head turned to kisses on your lips, while hands on your back turned into hands grasping your hips.
But as soon as Sam, Cas, Charlie, or anyone else walked through the door, you would revert back to no touches at all.
It’s not that you didn’t want to. He truly meant the world to you. But every time someone would walk into the room, he would pull away. And you never wanted to make Dean feel uncomfortable, even if it was killing you inside. So, to respect his space, you’d never so much as given Dean a high five in front of other people.
Until today.
A hunt had gone sideways when a djinn had outsmarted the three of you and gotten its hands on Dean while you and Sam had been out getting dinner.
When you got back to the motel room to see that Dean was gone and not answering his phone, you and Sam had come up with a plan. A questionable plan, for sure, but it was all that you could come up with in the limited time that you were allowed.
Now, the two of you sat in Baby, reviewing the plan before you burst into the abandoned warehouse where Dean was being kept.
“Whatever you do, don’t engage with the djinn, got it? I’ll take care of him, you take care of Dean.”
You nodded stiffly, your eyes on the building ahead. “I hear you, I got it. But if you’re in any trouble-”
Sam sighed in exasperation. “Would you just listen to me for a second-”
You looked up at him, fury in your gaze. “I will not let that djinn take you, too.”
Sam’s gaze softened. For all of the sweet touches that you passed around, you were still a hunter, willing to hurt anything that came between you and your family.
He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and leaned towards you. “Hey. We’re going to be okay, alright? Us and Dean, we’re getting out of here. And that djinn isn’t gonna know what hit him.”
He kept his hand on your shoulder until you finally nodded in agreement, a half smile taking shape on your lips. You took a deep breath and checked the bullets in your gun and the knife hidden in your jacket as Sam checked the knife dipped in lamb’s blood and the colt in his holster one last time.
As you went through your mental checklist, you couldn’t help the bolt of fear that shot through you when you realized that the djinn could have easily killed Dean hours ago.
You shook your head at the thought. Dean was tough, and if the djinn was probably desperate to make his life force last as long as possible.
You shook out your nerves one last time before you straightened up and looked towards Sam. “Alright,” you muttered. “Let’s get this thing.”
The two of you got out of the car quietly before making your way to the door of the warehouse. Sam put a finger to his lips as he tried the door. You both made a face of surprise when the door gave way easily. Sam led the way as you crept inside, hoping against all odds that the rest of the revue would go this smoothly.
But of course, it wouldn’t really be a Winchester hunt if nothing went wrong.
As soon as you and Sam entered the building, you were ambushed by the waiting djinn. With the advantage of surprise on its side, it quickly overpowered Sam and tossed him to the side before it turned its attention toward you.
You cursed under your breath and raised your gun, knowing full well that it and your knife would do nothing to save you, since the plan had been that you would never have to face the djinn. The djinn smiled at your panic, pacing towards you swiftly.
Suddenly, Sam appeared once again behind the djinn. The djinn whirled around and just barely managed to dodge the knife that Sam swung its way.
Sam risked a glance over to you. “Go! Get Dean!”
You nodded, though he had already turned back to face the djinn.
You looked around wildly, hoping for some kind of sign as to where Dean could be. You startled when you heard faint gasping coming from one of the rooms to your right.
Dean. You sighed in relief as you followed the sound. He had probably saved himself from his fantasy world. You shuddered as you remembered what he’d had to do to escape his dream, and started moving faster.
You entered the room cautiously, gun in hand. From your left, a weak voice croaked out your name.
You whirled around to find Dean weak and bound, but utterly alive. You felt tears well up in your eyes as you ran over to him, shoving your gun back in its holster so that you could grab your knife and cut through his bindings.
Dean looked up at you and smiled weakly. “Hey, sweetheart.”
You ignored him, focused solely on setting him free. Your hands were shaking, making it harder to cut through the ropes. Finally, with an extra push, your knife cut through. You dropped it so that you could catch Dean, who slumped forward as soon as he was able to move again.
You slowly lowered the two of you to the ground, allowing him to catch his breath. “Are you okay?” you asked, a slight tremor in your voice.
Dean looked up at you, his eyes soft as he searched your face. “I’m alright.”
His gaze sharpened suddenly, and he looked around the room. “Where’s Sammy?”
Your head snapped over to the door, through which you could hear sounds of a fight. You cursed lightly under your breath as you stood.
Dean moved to stand as well, but you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back lightly. “Stay here,” you ordered. “I’ll help Sam.”
“I’m not gonna-”
“Stay. Here.”
Dean eyed you stubbornly, but seemed to think better of himself, and nodded once for you to go on. He watched as you picked up your knife and handed it to him before you exited the room, jumping straight into the fight.
He sighed and leaned back against the wall behind him. Normally, he wouldn’t have stayed behind, regardless of what you or Sam said. But as he lay still against the wall, he couldn’t help but remember the dream that he’d been forced into.
You, him, and Sam. There’d been no more monsters. No fighting, no war. Just the three of you, living peacefully.
Jess had been there. She and Sam had gotten married, and Sam was the happiest man around. Or maybe not the happiest. Dean himself had been pretty happy too, with you by his side, through sickness and health. Finally free to hug and love each other freely, regardless of who was around.
He smiled as he looked back on it, but immediately broke out of his memory and jerked to attention as he heard footsteps enter the room.
Panic filled his body. Was it the djinn? Had he gotten to you and Sam? He clutched the knife you had given him in his hand, ready to make good use of it.
He heard Sam call out his name, relief filling his body. Dean opened his eyes and stood slowly, smiling at the two hunters watching him with concerned eyes. “Hey, Sammy.”
You heard Sam laugh breathlessly in relief while your eyes raked over Dean’s body, making sure that he wasn’t hiding an injury.
Dean tilted his head slightly, meeting your eyes. “I’m fine. Honest.”
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You were aware of Sam saying something next to you, but you couldn’t focus on his words, your attention solely on Dean.
When Dean looked over at you again, a small smile on his lips and concern in his eyes, you couldn’t help yourself. You threw down your weapon and ran over, throwing yourself into his arms.
You’d never been hugged like that before.
His arms wound themselves around your body and tightened, pressing you against him. His hands were open, one resting on your shoulder and one on your side, both tugging you closer than you thought possible. His head rested on top of yours, and he murmured reassurances into your ear as he slowly rocked you side to side.
Through it all, you could faintly hear the sound of Sam leaving the room, giving the two of you some space.
When you finally pulled back, Dean’s hands didn’t leave you, instead resting on your hips as he pressed his forehead to yours.
Your hands fluttered between his shoulders, his neck, and his face as you closed your eyes and inhaled a shaky breath. “I thought you were dead.”
Dean chuckled and gave the barest shake of his head, bringing his hands up to rest them on yours where they sat cradling his face. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
You laughed. “Because my life revolves around you?”
“Because then we’d never be able to tell Sam about us.”
You felt your face change, your smile dropping as you stepped away from Dean.
He looked back at you as his arms dropped down to his sides, hurt evident on his face. “What did I do? Are we not…?”
“No!” You exclaimed, shaking your head quickly.
You saw disappointment and shame flit across his features. You shook your head again. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant…I just…I wasn’t sure.”
“Sure about what?”
“It’s just…” You steeled yourself. “You always pull away from me. I thought maybe you were embarrassed or something. Or maybe you just wanted me to help you feel better-”
Dean’s whole body jerked with surprise and he stepped towards you, arms outstretched. “No, sweetheart, that’s not it at all. I’m just…” He hesitated, only a step away from you as his arms dropped. “I’m not good with mushy gushy crap. You know that.”
You smiled cautiously. “I know. Nothing wrong with that.”
He nodded, unmoving.
You took a step towards him. “Maybe we could…work on it together?”
A smirk crossed his face as he reached an arm around your back and pulled you closer. “Oh, yeah?”
A laugh crossed your lips. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Dean leaned his head down to softly brush his lips against yours. “I know.”
You felt him stiffen as you both heard footsteps re-enter the room, with Sam loudly complaining, “You guys good to go?”
You moved to pull away, muscle memory taking over, when Dean suddenly cupped your face with one hand and pressed his other hand against your back. His eyes searched yours. “Is this okay?”
Your heart was hammering against your chest, the knowledge that what you said could determine your whole relationship with both Winchesters weighing on your brain.
You heard Sam’s footsteps moving closer and smiled breathlessly. “Yeah,” you managed to say before he connected his lips to yours.
“Guys,” Sam repeated as he stepped into the room. His eyes landed on the two of you, your hands cupping Dean’s face as he pulled you closer still. He chuckled and turned away, but not before shouting, “It’s about time!”
He could hear Dean telling him where to shove it as he walked away, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that the two of you genuinely believed that nobody had noticed your secret relationship these past two years.
Oh well, he thought to himself. Better late than never.
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jackactuallywrites · 7 months
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Hidden Paradise
Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!reader
Rating: Explicit (detailed shagging)
Warnings: Unprotected sex and also shower sex which we all know is unsafe
Summary: You walk in on a man in the shower, it takes you seeing him in the skull mask a week later to realise it was Ghost, and he is very intrigued by your reaction
Notes: This absolutely wouldn’t be possible without @xxven my muse and pookie and beta reader who gave me the plot 🤍❤️ (also raven on TikTok for making a hot thirst trap that inspired a whole scene)
Word Count: 4,195 (I am very horny for ghost)
ao3 link
There was very little luxury to be found on a military base; your military fatigues were never soft, your boots were the cheapest given by the contractors, your bed squeaked every time you so much as moved an inch, and there wasn’t so much as a tealight allowed in the barracks.
However, you’d found a quiet sanctuary. Far from the rest of the buildings on the base, there was a small shower block, disused and forgotten about in favour of the newer, more convenient showers. The water pressure wasn’t all that great, and the tiles would probably never return to whatever shade of white they’d started out as, but all that mattered was that it was so wonderfully, blissfully quiet.
Silence was one of the hardest commodities to come across on a military base; there was always something going on, whether it be a training exercise with a hard-edged sergeant screaming at recruits or the grunts trying out whatever shiny new piece of equipment the government had seen fit to waste money on, but out there in the shower block, muffled by a copse of trees, there was nothing. Beautiful, precious, nothing.
Today had been yet another long lesson in tedium, worsened by the fact that your most beloved friends were out in the field, busy repairing the vehicles with whatever they could scavenge from the base. You already felt exhausted at the idea of how much paperwork you’d have to do after they’d torn through the place, and the day proved you right, with you having to go to every single place in the garages to check what stock had been taken as mechanics had an annoying habit of forgetting to write down what they’d used. It was long into the evening by the time you’d finally finished putting in the orders to replace every strange bit of junk the mechanics had used, and all you could think about was the long shower you were going to take.
The route through the forest was one of the only places you could get away with wearing your headphones and listening to music without getting scolded by the sergeant on patrol, and you took advantage of this privilege every time, blasting some classic disco music in your ears as you approached the shower block, blissfully unaware of the world outside. If not, you might have noticed the sound of the shower running.
As such, you walked into the block thinking of nothing but how your new eucalyptus shower steamer would smell, having got fairly good reviews online. You already had a favourite shower at this point, the one on the very end, with the best water pressure that the rusted old pipes could provide, though it had no door to speak of. You walked along the yellowed tile floor, passing by the empty showers until you finally reached your favourite one, only to find that it was very much not empty.
Standing under the sputtering stream of water was a tall, well-built man, his tan back glistening under the hundreds of droplets of water, highlighting the various white scars on his back, some of them small, some of them intimidatingly large. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander down, admiring the muscles in his back and perfectly toned legs, as well as a surprisingly sculpted ass. Whoever he was, he was statuesque in his beauty, as though he had been carved out of marble, and as he turned around to face you, showcasing the golden hair that trailed down from his abs, you caught a glimpse of his shaft, thick and long, yet quickly covered by a large hand.
It was that movement that broke the lustful spell you were under, and your eyes finally stopped ogling his body and flicked up to his face. You didn’t recognise him, not his pale green eyes or his crooked nose, but you could absolutely recognise the outrage on his face, and you yanked down your headphones, keeping your eyes firmly above his waist, “I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise anyone was in here.” His voice was little more than a snarl, “Get out.” You had absolutely no desire to argue with a man built like that, so you gave a quick nod and hurried back out of the shower block, not willing to spend a single second more in his presence.
~
Since your encounter in the showers, not a single night had gone past where you hadn’t dreamed about the man, his body, his hands, the dark blond hair that led down his navel, and the thick veins on his forearms. It lurked in the back of your mind, eternally present as a lustful little memory to entertain you during the more boring moments of your day.
Yet again, you were in another meeting writing down what items had been used over the week and what needed to be ordered for the next month's exercise. It was made slightly more interesting by the fact that this time, you were working with the SAS, and not just that, but with some of the most feared soldiers there were, including the worst of the worst, Ghost .
You swore you could almost feel the insidious aura coming from the man in the skull mask, as though it was radiating off him in dark waves. When he spoke, his words were sharp and to the point, never expending more energy than was strictly necessary, and rarely directing his attention to you, sitting in silence and taking notes, not that you were complaining. Every time the man spoke, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck prickle as though your body was trying to warn you that he was dangerous. It was only toward the end of the meeting that you finally spoke up, standing and reciting everything that you’d written down in your notebook.
It was times like that where you’d have to put on a brave face as if you feared the room of men no more than a pack of kittens, making sure your voice was loud and firm, forcing them to listen to you. None of them seemed particularly interested; after all, you were a perfect, albeit boring professional, yet you remained undeterred, making eye contact with each of them. Even Ghost was looking at you; you could see those pale green eyes watching you from underneath his skull mask with a strange intensity. You remained undeterred, staring back at the man as you read out the various things that were in stock and what would have to be ordered, yet there was something niggling at the back of your head. Those eyes were strangely familiar.
It took you a second to remember, and then the barely buried memory came back: the beautiful man in the shower, his body glistening, his toned muscles, and the dark blond hair that covered his navel. The words in your mouth died on your tongue, and you saw Ghost’s eyebrow raise underneath his mask as if he was intrigued by your reaction to him. You cleared your throat, hoping that the heat you felt in your cheeks wouldn’t show up on your skin as you dropped your eyes back down to your notebook, pointedly ignoring him as you focused back on your task, ensuring that you hadn’t missed anything.
Inexplicably, Ghost spoke up, interrupting your admittedly dull recital of your list, “How soon can we get a restock of the M16 mags?” His question forced you to look over at him, and his pale green eyes seemed as though they were trying to drill right through your head. You refused to back down this time, meeting his gaze no matter how prevalent the image of his naked body was in your mind, even if you did stumble over your words as you flipped through the pages, “Those mags, uh, the ammo for the M16 that is, we ordered those last Tues-Wednesday , so they’ll be in by the end of this week.”
You couldn’t see his expression under his mask, but you could have sworn that it tugged in a way that suggested he was smirking underneath the black fabric, a touch of smugness in his eyes. Was he flirting with you? There was no possible way for you to find out in the middle of a full room, so you decided to put that tantalising idea to the side, wrapping up the last few items on your list and then glancing around the room, “If there’s anything else, please send me an itemised list by the end of the day.”
With that, the meeting was over, every soldier packing up their files, undoubtedly each one as bored as you, and you had little desire to spend any more time with them, especially with the suspiciously intense look Ghost was giving you, so you gave your farewells and left the room as quickly as you could, doing your best to rid your mind of the confusing thoughts whirling around in your mind. Ghost, the supposed ‘psycho’ killer, was flirting with you. Or perhaps threatening you. You weren’t entirely sure which. And yet, you had a strange desire to find out, that small part of you that longed to step into dangerous territory. But how could you? That meeting had been the only time you’d ever interacted with the man; other than your brief encounter in the shower, it didn’t seem like there would ever be another opportunity to be alone with him.
Unless.
Regardless of how outraged he’d been previously, he’d seemed entirely intrigued by you in the meeting, almost amused. You’d seen the direction he was headed; if your mind wasn’t already overtaken with delusional optimism, you could have sworn that he was striding in the direction of the old shower block with what seemed like great determination.
This was one of those deciding moments, a fork in the path where you got to choose what the outcome would be: adherence to your usual routine or something far more thrilling. You could almost feel the clock ticking in your head, your time running short, and for once, you decided to be brave and at least a little bit stupid, heading to your barracks to pick up your things before heading out toward the shower block, adrenaline pounding in your veins as you made your way through the small woods to the brick building.
Even from the outside, you could hear the shuddering of the pipes as they desperately pumped water, your heart beginning to pick up the pace as you pushed open the heavy wooden door, closing it softly behind you, now able to hear the pattering of water on the tile floor and see the black clothing draped over the bench that ran the length of the wall. You walked down the centre of the block, approaching the last stall on the end, and yet, you couldn’t take that final step. Everything below the waist was screaming at you to leap into the shower with the man, yet your brain conjured images of the humiliating HR meeting you’d be in if you had, in fact, entirely misinterpreted what were admittedly very subtle hints. You didn’t dare push over that line with a man so far above you in rank, but you weren’t prepared to entirely give up, so you merely slunk into the stall next to his, stripping off your uniform and hanging it on the backside of the door, pulling it to and surrendering yourself to an unsatisfying shower.
The shower head shuddered as you twisted the knob for water, a few spats of water dripping out, yet nothing more. There was a good reason you stuck to that end stall; almost every other shower there had been neglected to the point of failure. You took this as a sign to give up, turning around to get your things, only to find Ghost standing in the now open doorway.
There was nothing but a towel lazily wrapped around his hips to cover him up, his blond hair already soaked, water leaving little trails down his body, pulling your eyes down. You quickly snapped your attention back to his face, your hands already going to cover your chest and between your legs instinctually. Ghost’s eyes lingered on your body before finally flicking to the broken shower head, then back to your face. You could see that intrigued twinkle in his eyes as he gave you a slightly smug smirk, gesturing toward the other shower stall with his head, “Mine works. We should share.”
You almost couldn’t believe what he was suggesting. The exact situation had been playing out in your mind ever since you’d seen him naked, yet never once had you made the connection between your shower Adonis and Lieutenant Ghost. The two couldn’t be reconciled in your head, but you quickly decided that this was a problem to be solved later, if at all. You turned your non-functioning shower off, though slightly reluctant to use the hand covering your chest to do so, and then walked out of the stall, ducking under Ghost’s arm holding the door open for you, and rounding the corner into the warm stream of the only functional shower, allowing the water to wash away all the important questions that should have been asked, only focusing on the present moment.
Though you’d chosen to face away from him, you could still hear the noise of his towel hitting the wall as he tossed it aside, your entire body tensing up as you felt his presence behind you, the nerves nipping at the back of your mind. You didn’t dare turn to look at him, trying to find something else to focus on to quiet your frenzied brain, your eyes flicking to the one bottle of his on the floor in the shower, trying to figure out what scent ‘original’ was supposed to be, and whether one liquid really could be shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.
Your thoughts on his toiletries were brought to an instant halt at the first touch of his hand on your hip, a questioning touch as though he was gauging your interest before moving any further. He might have been feared special forces, yet here, you retained a level of control, of security. You relaxed into his touch, leaning back until you bumped up against his chest, and his arm snaked around your stomach, wrapping tightly around your waist as he stepped forward into the stream from the shower, his head dipping down to rest in the crook of your neck. You could feel his other hand trail a path up your thigh before it, too, wrapped around you, pulling you snug against him in a tight embrace, like a man starved for any sort of touch.
For a moment, the two of you remained in that simple intimacy, your arms resting on top of his, enjoying the sheer pleasure of his embrace. Your hands were the first to move, your fingertips gently trailing over the muscles in his forearms, admiring the strength in them, unable to hold back a smile as you saw the not-so-subtle way he flexed them for you. His hand moved then, and you followed them with your own, one trailing down over your hipbone to the top of your thigh, gently stroking the skin there, the other one shifting up until it was just underneath your breast, pausing right before he touched anywhere interesting.
Clearly, he wasn’t about to touch anywhere without your explicit permission, and you decided to test him, pulling his left hand up until it was settled over your breast. His fingers paused, and you felt the tenseness in his arms, yet after a beat, he stretched out his fingers, tracing a little pattern over the swell of your breast, circling your nipple before his hand covered your boob entirely, gently squeezing it in his hand. You could feel his breathing growing heavier, every exhale blowing air over the skin of your neck, but you had no intention of stopping, relaxing into his touch, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, your eyes closed. The hand on your thigh had grown tight, fingers digging into your flesh, and you began to move his hand further in to where you could feel a growing need for his touch.
The further you moved his hand, the tighter his grip on your chest got, pulling you closer against him until you could finally feel his hardness pressed against the small of your back. His clear excitement emboldened you further, and you pushed his hand firmly between your legs, letting his fingers slightly part your labia to rest on your clit. That action earned you a low growl from him, and he buried his face into your shoulder as he pushed his fingers further down, touching the slick wetness beginning to leak out of your needy pussy. The second he felt your wetness, he drew his fingers back from you, digging them into your hip and pulling you firmly against him, rubbing the bridge of his nose against your neck as though he was trying to ground himself in the moment.
You had no problem allowing him to take his time, focusing on the simple pleasure of the warm water on your skin and the heat emanating from his chest to your back. His hand moved back to your pussy, more determined than before, as he slid his fingers down your slit, gently probing your slick hole with his fingers. As he slowly slid one in, he let out a strangled groan, shifting his face so he could bite down on the flesh of your neck, his other hand massaging your breast as his finger began to easily slip inside you. He stretched his thumb up to rest on your clit as he gently began to pump his finger in and out of you, rubbing in little circles, and you couldn’t help but let out a little moan.
The slightest of noises from you seemed to spur him on, and he pushed another finger inside you, beginning to kiss and suck at your neck as he did so, your body easily accepting his two fingers, and so he followed it with a third, his dick twitching with excitement against your back as all three of his fingers sank inside you without resistance.
Whatever good sense you had left was beginning to dissipate in the haze of your lust, and you reached your hand behind you to wrap around his cock, slowly beginning to stroke him as he gently fucked you with his fingers. He rewarded you with a soft groan in your ear, and so you quickened your pace, beginning to pump his dick in earnest, wanting him to receive the same pleasure as you. Your body was eagerly opening up around him, and the last bit of your intelligence vanished as your desperation for him overpowered you, and you begged for stupidity in two words.
“Fuck me.”
There was no hesitance in Ghost’s touch now as he pulled his fingers out of you, turning you to face him and then bending down to grab your thighs and lift you up, pinning you to the cool, damp wall of the shower stall. You could see the lust in his eyes as he shifted to hold you with only one hand, the other quickly moving to his dick, positioning it at your slick entrance and then slowly beginning to lower you down onto him. There was no comparison to the pleasure you felt, not only from feeling him slide into you, but to watch his face as he did so, his open lips, the desperate look in his eyes, his gaze entirely focused on you as though you were Aphrodite herself. You sunk your teeth into your lip to stop yourself from moaning out loud as you felt him stretch out your insides, yet you let your hands dig into his shoulders, your nails raking his skin as you felt every inch of him.
When you finally sunk down to the base of his cock, he leant forwards to rest his head on the wall beside you, clearly struggling to contain his composure, his hand digging into the flesh of your thigh, the other splayed out on the cool tile wall. He took a second to breathe before he began to slowly thrust up into you, his hand shifting from your thigh to your hip to pin you in place. Even in your wetness, you could feel how big he was, filling you up so perfectly, and you arched your back against him, desperate to feel every inch of him inside you. His eyes were on you now, and he moved his hands from the wall to your lips, tugging your bottom lip out from between your teeth and issuing you a singular command, his gaze intense.
“I want to hear you.”
Even in your pleasure, you couldn’t stop yourself from obeying a command from your superior officer, and you let out the moans you’d been holding back, tightening your legs around his waist to pull him into you as much as possible, your fingers raking against his back as he fucked you, his hips beginning to move more forcefully against you. His fingers now moved to your hair, brushing the errant strands out of your face and then shifting down to cup your cheek, lifting your face, his voice soft, “Look at me.”
There was no mistaking the utter lust in his gaze when you looked up at him, yet you could also see quite a great deal of tenderness, of genuine care, which only served to heighten your pleasure, your hands moving from his shoulders to the back of his neck as you clung to him, desperately grinding your hips against him. He picked up his pace further yet still restrained himself from fully slamming into you, his grip like a vice on your thigh. His voice grew hoarser as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, clearly strained, “Touch yourself.”
In another situation, you might have felt insecure, yet you were entirely awash in lustful pleasure, and so you obeyed, reaching down with one hand to begin rubbing circles around your increasingly sensitive clit, feeling that same build of pleasure in your core as Ghost fucked you faster still, his expression growing more desperate by the second. He leant forward to whisper his final command against your lips.
“Come for me.”
Your body seemed honour-bound to obey him as your pussy clenched around his dick, your pleasure building until it finally crescendoed, with Ghost’s lips crashing onto yours as you finished, his hips moving frantically as he desperately fucked you, his thrusts stuttering as he finally shot his load deep inside you, his body crushing yours into the wall in a tight embrace. Your kisses became softer as the both of you came down from your frenzied high, his grip on your body loosening slightly, your death grip around his neck becoming less deadly.
With a satisfied groan, Ghost let himself sink to the floor, pulling you down along with him into his lap, letting his dick remain inside you as you settled more comfortably on top of him, resting against his chest as he lazily wrapped his arms around your lower back, cradling you against him. After such bodily heat, the comparatively cool water of the shower felt heavenly on your skin, washing away your intermingled sweat.
You probably could have slept there, with Ghost still buried inside you, yet he was not so spellbound. With a gentle movement, he pulled his softening length out of you, reaching over to grab the bottle of soapy liquid he’d left on the floor. Then, he repositioned you so you were now sitting in between his legs, his thick thighs boxing you in as he opened the bottle behind you. You weren’t entirely sure what he was doing, nor did you care, still awash in a pleasant afterglow. The touch of his fingers gently massaging the liquid into your hair was a heavenly surprise, and you practically melted into his hands, a human-sized pile of putty perfectly manipulated by him. He ran his fingers through the length of your hair, thoroughly soaping up every strand before he let the cool water wash away the suds.
Then, he got to work on your body. Never had you been so grateful for three-in-one soap as it meant you didn’t have to miss a second of his warm chest against your back as he began to soap up your body, his fingers incredibly gentle against your skin, paying attention to every single part of you, and then letting you lean back against his chest as the water washed everything away, his arms coming to rest around your waist. Every single care of yours seemed to follow the soap down the train as you relaxed into him, enjoying the way he rested his chin on your head as you closed your eyes, finally entirely at ease.
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shycloudkitty · 9 months
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JUST A LITTLE TOUCH
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Summary: You have been in a friends with benefits relationship with Leon for almost two years. After one of your *stress relief* sessions with Leon, things start to change between you both when he takes one small step in opening himself.
Pairing: RE6 Leon Kennedy! × Fem! Reader
Tags: Mentions of sex in some parts, pure fluff, drinking, angst with lots of comfort.
A/N: Hello guys! I am so so excited for my first fic ever!!! I am so happy rn. Happy new year to you all🥰🥰🥰. Hope you all enjoy this!! Don't forget to show your appreciation by liking it, commenting on it and reblogging on it. A huge thanks to @nexysworld @luniaxi @elfven-blog @kennedyswhore for encouraging me🥰🥰🥰.
Words in bold and italics are Leon thoughts. Like this…
Also guys there's only one sentence which is only in bold and not italics so be careful about it. 🤭🤭
Word count : 5.2K
The room was warm after the shared moments between you and him. Sheets crumpled, Hair messed up, scent of sweat and sex still lingering in the air a little bit. You were lying in bed sleeping and resting yourself after one of many wonderful moments you had with Leon.
Your eyes flutter open slightly and you stretched your arms a bit. As you did you realised he wasn’t lying beside you… That definitely you woke up. Even if he wasn’t that much into cuddling he still used to be beside you. You frowned and sighed tiredly then slowly sat up. Looking around the room you rubbed your face to get the sleepiness out of you. Two years of doing this and by now you could probably guess what he was doing by now.
Probably needed a drink.
That’s what he usually did…You knew after sex he tended to be a bit *disconnected* his mood used to be off. After you guys were done and saw him spacing out, you often used to hold his hand, squeezing it gently and kissing his cheek lightly. He used to give a small smile and sometimes… you did catch him blushing once in a while which was adorable.
You slowly got up from bed and stretched your arms above your head and sighed softly. You wore your shirt and your shorts. And made your way towards the living room.
There he was… Reaching up to his liquor cabinet and taking out one of his whiskey bottles. His back turned to you. Wearing one of his blue shirts and grey sweatpants. You swear you never saw that cabinet empty, sometimes it was even more stocked than his fridge.
He took one of the glasses and poured himself a drink. “Want anything to drink?” His gruff voice echoed in the room. He didn’t had to look up and turn his back to see you were awake. His senses were sharp after all.
You walk towards him and lean against the counter and smile at him. “Sure… Would love one right now…” You never liked it when he used to just get so lonely. You just wanted to help him… a little bit. It was hard not to care for a guy like him.
He sets a second glass In front of you and pours some for you. Still looking pretty unphased. He finally looks up at you and passes you the glass. You could see it in his eyes that he was there… but not there at the same time. But you knew him long enough, had an understanding of each other, even if he’s not openly emotional, he appreciates the company.
You decided to break the ice when you just saw him staring at you… spacing out a bit. You gave one of your playful smiles and in a teasing tone asked. “Why the long face? Am I really that terrible in bed?” taking a sip of your drink.
He doesn’t take well to teasing sometimes, but that gets a rare chuckle out of him. “Maybe” he teases back.
You scoff lightly, giving him an offended look and playfully say “Ouch. Didn’t know we were giving each other reviews… want me to give you one?”
He chuckles again and with a cocky smirk says. “I guess it will be 10 out of 10 considering how much I had you begging for more at the end of it.” His voice sultry.
More like 11 out of 10 but who’s counting anyways?
You scoff and look away to hide your flustered face. “You… are insufferable.” Not wanting to admit the fact he was right.
Leon chuckles for a while, his mood slightly better but after a moment he sighs and says. “Just… been thinking.” He usually didn’t admit what he was feeling at the moment always kept his true feelings and face hidden.
You look up at him and softly said “About work?” He nods and that’s all you get. He walks over to the couch and sits down with a light huff “Mmhmm”.
You sit beside him on the couch and slowly ask “Is it important or just overthinking”. He looks down at his drink, thinking. He sighs. “Bit of both, really…” He chuckles lightly. He can’t deny how right you were. It’s eating at him a bit.
There’s a stretch of silence between you two after that. Leon looking at his drink and taking a small sip of it while you sit beside him thinking how to comfort him on that. Like… What do you even say to the person who had a much rougher life than any normal person had? After much thinking, you then scoot closer to him and gently pat his back and give him a soft smile. You don’t know if that action was awkward or comforting. You looked like you were patting a sad child. But you didn’t know what else to do & you really wanted to be there for him.
He was surprised a bit, looking over at you he couldn’t help himself but smile at your action. It did help him, even a little bit. “I just…” He stops, a hint of pain in his voice. “I just wish I could tell you…everything.”
What? Did he really said that? Did he really felt like that? Your eyes widened and you stopped smiling momentarily. That was so unusual of him… You then slowly regained your composure and slowly asked him. “Oh so… do you wanna talk about it?”.
“No” He replied almost too quickly, shaking his head. “I mean…Look, I can’t.” And gulps down his whiskey in one go like it was water. He’s never quite been this… vulnerable around you before. It’s like he’s a little taken aback at his own actions.
You still smile at him and kiss his cheek lightly. “That’s okay…” He can’t help a slight blush, before looking away. “…Thanks.” God was he awkward.
He sighs, looking over at his liquor cabinet. He considers getting another drink. He gets up and glances at you briefly for a second and says. “I’m gonna…go get a refill.” “Want anything else?” He asked.
Now that you think about it, you could use something to eat. “Mmm… yeah I am a bit hungry.”
He nods and says “Hungry, huh? I’ll order us some food.” He grins a bit as he walks away, heading towards the kitchen. “We can watch a movie till it gets here.” He says, over his shoulder and pours himself another drink.
You chuckle lightly and say in a light hearted manner. “Uh huh.. A movie you say? Which one?”
Leon stops for a moment, his back still facing you and simply say. “Horror movie. I wanna scare you a bit.” You groan and he glances over his shoulder at you smiling. “Or maybe I should be the scared one?” Chuckling a bit at his own words. “I know you love horror stuff.”
No you don’t. At what part of you hiding your face behind a pillow whenever a jumpscare comes and scares the shit out of you, was loving ‘horror stuff’? You roll your eyes and look at him raising an eyebrow at him. “Oh come on…You just wanna watch me scream. That’s what you really like.”
You mentally face palm yourself as you realize what you just said and watch as he smirks and starts to say. “I mean I do make you scream whenever you are here so…”
You narrowed your eyes at him and he laughed seeing your reaction. You groaned. Him and his cheesiness. “I didn’t mean it that way and you know it… You are such a big meanie.”
He chuckled and poured himself his third drink and doesn’t turn around and sarcastically says “Am not. I’m a big softie.” A big smirk present on his face.
“And hey, I’ll let you choose the movie. So go ahead. Pick it out.” Coming back to the couch and taking his phone out to place order for two pizzas which doesn’t take long to order as he does remember your favourite. It wasn’t like this was first movie night you guys had. You used to have them whenever he was bored or wanted to keep his mind off things. Eating pizza or ramen while you rambled to him about your day while he patiently just listened to each word. Although… you both soon got distracted and moved things to the bedroom… so it will always ended on a splendid note.
You laugh and teasingly say. “Ohh… don’t give me that much power or I will make you watch a chick flick with me.”
He laughed and looked up at her and gave her a dramatically sigh. “I mean, I could suffer through it. You’re worth it.” He grins when he watches you blush and shyly look away.
He was never going to admit it out loud but he loved making you blush, watching that rose pink colour slowly filled your cheeks. He always thought that it suited you. And he didn’t even had to do much, he could compliment you anytime and you would shyly look away trying to show his words weren’t affecting you but the colour on your cheeks told him everything that needed to know.
He then shrugs and says. “But really, I’ve never been all that scared of horror.” As if to prove his point, he pulls his sleeves back a little, revealing claw marks and scars on his forearm. “I’ve been through a lot worse than a jumpscare and some spooky music.” Chuckling a bit at the end.
You bit your lip and looked at his forearm with a sense of pity. There were old scars which had faded replaced by new ones. You knew he used to work in DSO and fought bioweapons. Yeah he told you, reluctantly when you probed him about his job. But that was it. He never ever shared on what he had to go through in his job. And honestly looking at it… you really couldn’t even begin to imagine on what he had to see or face through.
And it isn’t really the first time seeing them but looking up at them close…That was different. You slowly bring your hand and gently trace his scars with your fingers. A bit curious how they were formed in the first place. You looked up at him concern visible in your eyes.
He doesn’t say a word at your touch. He notices your hesitation but was too focused on the fact that you touched them willingly. Don’t you find them ugly? It’s not like they were pretty to look at. He doesn’t often show anyone his scars, and he’s never quite let you touch them before. He looks down at you, surprised at your curiosity over them. Looking back down at your touch again, not quite knowing what to do or say. Should he have stopped you? He thinks to himself.
You then hesitantly asks. “...Is that what you always go through?” Your voice low as you tried to imagine the horrors he had to go through.
His eyes follow your touch as you continue with it. He watches you with a sort of silent disbelief as you ask your question. To him, his work is just…normal. But you look at him like you just asked him the world. He sighs and says. “I've been in plenty of bad situations, yeah,” he chuckles lightly and sips his drink. “But its… it’s what I do. Someone’s gotta do it.”
You removed your hand as he started to roll down his sleeves a bit hurriedly, hiding them away before you asked something else. You look up at him and say. “Must be hard… that’s very brave of you…” you were a bit surprised on how casual he was about all this. But all he did was shrug and reply “I can’t really say I’m brave, just doing my job. Like I said, someone’s gotta do it.”
He drains his glass, looking at it and scoffing to himself a bit and replies. “But Thanks…” sensing the topic was over you didn’t probe him further than that.
Soon his door bell rings and he gets up to receive the order. Comes back and sets down the boxes. He looks at you and raises an eyebrow. “Wanna eat and choose the movie?”
You chuckle and nod. “Sounds good…” You pass him your glass to refill it and he does that. Keeping the bottle on the coffee table as you browsed on Netflix on what to watch. “So how about conjuring..?”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Pick something scary. That’s nothing.”
You frown at him and say. “Hey that’s scary…” Leon shakes his head and takes the remote. “Give me that…” and starts browsing.
You scoff and try to take back the remote and say. “No way, last time you chose hereditary and I had to sleep with lights on that night.”
Leon doesn’t give back the remote and say. “Well I won’t choose that then. What about midsommar?”
Your eyes widen and try to take back the remote again and say. “No way, give me that. I hate cult movies.”
After 10 minutes of you guys fighting on which movie to see. You both decide to watch IT. Which already has you hiding your face behind a cushion. He chuckles seeing you that way and pats your knee lightly and puts an arm around you. “Don’t worry, I won’t let that clown take you down the drain with him and make you float.”
You chuckle and teasingly say. “Aww… will you keep me safe and tucked away from him?”
Leon rolls his eyes and chuckles. He replies sarcastically. “Yeah yeah I will…be your knight in shining armor.” Looking at you with a cocky smirk which had you giggling.
You shake your head and eat your slice and so does he as you relax and watch the movie. He looks over at you as you hide your face in his shoulder when it got scary, peeking a little bit to watch the screen not wanting to miss it. He smiled to himself.
You were really so cute to him… so innocent and sweet. Sometimes all he wanted was to tuck you away in a safe place and watch over you, keeping a sweet thing like you away from every horrific things he had witnessed.
“Are you cozy?” he asks suddenly. But your body language gives it away-he can tell you’re comfortable. He feels his heart pound in his chest as he feels something fuzzy inside. What am I even doing?. It was clear that he was enjoying this too but he really didn’t wanna show that he was enjoying this too much. You smile and nod.
“Yeah It’s really cozy… you make a really cozy pillow you know.” Chuckling softly at him. He chuckles too finding your description of him amusing.
“Oh am I?” His gaze returns to the screen. He was definitely trying to be flirty as he felt his cheeks warm up a bit. But a nagging feeling deep inside his mind just keeps eating him. This is…dangerous. Can’t stay like this for longer.
While his mind runs wild with all the chaotic thoughts bubbling over while you were looking at the same forearm which had rolled up a bit giving another peek at his scars. You couldn’t help but get distracted by it. His whole attitude about how this was just work and how aloof he was about the whole ordeal. It just didn’t sit right with you. He couldn’t be numb to all of this… or was he? You think for a moment. He never got this close. Like never. And you never forced him either, it’s not like you were obligated to know about his work or nightmares…or his demons.
Your curiosity bubbled over and slowly brought your hand and shifted his sleeves a bit more to look at them. Doing it slowly so to not disturb him in that moment. And gently tracing small, slow circles on one of the scars.
His eyes widened a bit and looks down at your slow touch, calming him down almost instantly and pulling him to reality and away from his drowning thoughts. Your gentle touch, the circles you create. He feels a warm sensation run up his arm, and he suddenly feels… odd. He looks over at you, but can’t meet your gaze for more than a few seconds before he looks back down. He stares at your hand touching his arm, not moving away or resisting. His heart pounds faster. He doesn’t feel cold anymore. He feels too warm. It’s hard not to melt under your touch. You then ask him softly. “You never allowed me to touch them like this before...” your gaze fixed at the scars.
This will never be ‘normal' to you. Will never make you think like this wasn’t a big deal or that the things he used to do weren’t ‘brave' or that it was 'just a job’. Even lasting this long in this field was an achievement in itself. This job took so much away from him… but he’s still standing... But at what cost?
“I didn’t want you to be worried, that’s all. Like I said, it’s… normal to me. Like any other day.” He tries to brush it off and return his focus to the movie. But he can’t help but find himself sneaking glances at his arm. And your fingers making slow, even circles on his skin. He feels his stomach sinking, but he doesn’t fight it like he usually would…
You shake your head and look up at him. Biting your lip a bit and softly whispering. “No… I mean… you didn’t let me touch them like this… is that the only reason you didn’t let me touch them before?”
Leon swallows, realizing what you’re trying to say. He looks back at your hand looking at your loving touch, his heart pounding in his chest was not helping him either. And he wonders If she’s this intimate with me… Why did I try to shut it down earlier? Is this how it feels?
“Were you… Afraid? That I would judge you?” Your soft voice bringing him to reality once more and making him think about that answer. Torn between telling you the truth or lying to avoid being vulnerable further and be dismissive about it.
But maybe it was your voice that gave his poor soul a hope that someone gave a damn about him, your eyes which were curious but also concerned for him or your soothing touch which had some miraculous power to be able to quiet down his anxiety and trauma driven thoughts. So he opens up. Just once.
He's silent for a few more moments and nods. “… yeah. I was.” He says after a while, his voice quiet. He looks down at your fingers again thinking why would you even bother making him feel better about himself. “You've never been close… like this with me… so… intimate.” He murmurs. “I was scared to let you get this close, I… I wanted it. But I…” He doesn’t need to complete that sentence, you can guess what he means.
He feels a soft peck on his cheek, feeling your soft lips lingering there for a moment. Just a little kiss to calm down his nervousness. And it works… he’s distracted that you did it but also so grateful. He looks over at you, still not used to expressing your attraction to him in these intimate ways. He blushes slightly, a look of soft confusion on his face once more, but he doesn’t seem to mind this time.
“Right…” He mumbles, glancing back at the screen and getting shy. He was so awkward he couldn’t express himself like you could but he also wanted to show you he cared so he brought you close just a little bit as your head was still resting on his shoulder and leaned into you slightly. It’s only a bit. Just enough to get a response, but not too much that he’s pushing the line.
You noticed his efforts and looked up at him with a smile. You couldn’t help but admire the way his hair fell perfectly across his face some of it concealing his blush but just enough to reveal he was blushing and was shy. And his icy blue eyes that shows that he isn’t completely numb to everything life has to offer…
You scoot closer to him almost cuddling with him. And squeeze his arm gently and touches his scars again but this time drawing small stars on them. “Is this uncomfortable?”
He tries not to make a sound afraid that he might ruin this moment. As he feels all these new feelings flow through him making his heart skip a few beats. His body language is soft and comfortable with you.
He swallows and shakes his head. “…no. It’s nice.” He mumbles. He doesn’t move away, or push your hand off him. He then looks down at your hand drawing stars around his scars and sighed softly. A soft smile on his face. He then looks back at the screen but his thoughts focused on you. The movie was almost finished but you both continued to watch it in comfortable silence. He’s always been a nervous guy, but these nerves are the good kind.
You then slowly stop drawing stars and gently hold his hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and he feels like his heart could burst out of his chest right now. Feeling your skin on his, your warmth flowing into his soul. He looks at the movie, then at you. How did we get here? When did things… change? Is this for the better or worse? Why even care for a monster like him? He wonders. He looks at your hands intertwined in his. And he swallows hard. He doesn’t pull away, or move your hand. He lets it happen.
“Can I ask you something?” your soft voice comes through and he looks down at you. He nods without hesitation, his head still facing the screen even if the movie was finished and credits were rolling. “Go ahead.” He says, his voice low but still soft.
You clear your throat. You were a bit nervous to ask this questions cause well…it was personal. “You know you don’t have to answer it or anything but I am just curious…Umm…On your missions. Did it ever feel like you won’t return?”
He thinks for a moment, then softly chuckles. “Once or twice…” He mumbles still not facing you. “But I guess when you do this every day… you get used to it.” He swallows hard and sighs. “I have…considered it before though.” He says after a few moments. What would my funeral be like? He had wondered before. Would you even care enough to show up for the last time? Will there be other people there singing how great he was like they did now or would he be tossed aside like trash and replaced by someone young and better, forgotten by all of his peers? Would you just… move on to someone else without giving him a second thought? He shook his head to toss aside those thoughts but he couldn’t. They plagued his mind day and night like a curse.
You nod listening to his words, seeing him space out once more in his thoughts. You then softly say. “And what did it felt like… when you actually returned home? When you thought it was probably your last day on earth… What did it felt like when you came back?” you imagined he was relieved of course but you wanted to listen to him.
You were probably the first person who actually cared enough to ask what he ‘felt’ after & during those awful, god-forsaken missions. You were also the first one who wanted to listen to his story who wouldn’t dismiss him saying ‘this is part of the job’ or ‘everyone goes through this… suck it up’. No you were more kind hearted than that and he couldn’t help but slowly succumb to that kindness.
He swallows hard, glancing at you. He closes his eyes for a moment to think about your question, your hand still intertwining his. Giving him something to ground himself and calm him down. He sighs, and opens his eyes again.
“Relief.” He says simply.
“Relief that I’m not dead. Joy that I came back alive. And… and…” He pauses for a moment, searching for the right words – only to fail to find them. He looks down again looking at the joined hands.
You smile from his words and try to complete his sentence. “Grateful?”
He looks at you, considering your words for a moment. He looks back down and swallows hard and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, grateful. Definitely.” He chuckles, his voice soft and quiet. “And…” He pauses for a moment and adds. “Sometimes a little guilty.” He whispers, looking back at the screen.
That catches you a bit off guard. After all why would he feel guilty when he came back alive? Not expecting him to say of all things. And simply ask “Why?”
“Some of my teammates… they… never made it back. And I should be with them.” He glances back at you. “But I don’t want to be…” He says after a few moments.
He needs a hug. He looks at you, wanting to bury his face in your neck and wrap his arms around your waist and hold you tightly till your warmth envelops him and make him feel safe. But he feels awkward asking for it. Like…would you consider him a weirdo if he asked you for it? He looks away from you and tries not to show the fact he needed someone to just hold him.
You squeeze his hand gently not knowing how far you can go… afraid that he would pull back at any moment after opening so much to you. And softly said. “I am sorry about that…”
He looks down at your hand, your soft skin was a direct contrast when compared to his. His hands calloused and rough but that didn’t stop you from being gentle with him. He then nods, “Thanks.” He says softly and sighs a bit in relief. Feeling a bit better after talking about it.
But he couldn’t help but realize that he was falling for you just like this? And it all felt… so nice? Is that how it feels when you fall in love with someone?
You then look up at him and clear your throat once more. This time you more nervous cause you had a *small* confession to make. “Uhh… by the way… just so you know. I do care, wondering when you will be back. I always wish you come back in one piece.” A blush rising in your cheeks after saying that.
Leon looked down at you surprised and after few beats of silence he softly asks. “Really?” His expression soft and vulnerable.
Honestly, it was a bit hard for you to open up too. You both have never been so… emotionally close like this during the time you have been together. So it’s a bit unnerving but if he could open up so much, you could too.
With a smile you replied. “Well yeah… I mean who would tease me with their awful cheesy jokes when we have movie nights like these…” Trying to make the moment light-hearted with a bit of teasing.
Leon couldn’t help but laugh a bit from the comment and roll his eyes and says. “Yeah? That’s what I am for? Make you laugh with my ‘cheesy jokes'?”
You chuckled and playfully nodded. “Yes… obviously.”
“I can’t believe you are using me just for jokes.” Playfully narrowing his eyes at you.
You couldn’t help but laugh “Well… I can’t help it. I just love your jokes which make me roll my eyes and groan at how stupid they are...”
After a beat, you both share a laugh and Leon playfully says. “You are more cheesy than me.”
“Your fault by the way…” Making Leon smirk a little bit.
You rest your head back on his shoulder and sigh contentedly.
It feels better now that you both have talked about your ‘feelings'. Much more relaxed… Maybe feelings don’t have to be complicated. Walls that you both made back then to protect oneself from a possible heartbreak were slowly crumbling down and you didn’t seem to mind it and neither did he.
Leon sighs and softly says. “Thank you… By the way… I know I am not easy to be with…” Holding you closer and caressing your arm gently.
You shake your head and reply softly. “No, it’s not that… it’s okay. I am actually… okay…with how you are.”
“Really?” He asks, with glancing at you look at your expression. He swallows, his heart racing once more.
You bring your intertwined hands closer and press a kiss to the side of his hand and smile at him. “Yeah… I never found you difficult to be with. I am more myself when I am with you…” Your own heart races at your another small confession, which was huge to him.
Leon swallows, he was sure that you made his heart stop with your words and that little kiss. He looks away from you for a moment and takes a deep breath then looks back at you.
“You don’t find me difficult? A bit too much to be with? Am I…too much?” He asks, his words quiet. He doesn’t want to sound too needy but he is. But there’s no hiding that right now.
You then shake your head and gives him a small smile. “No… I mean.. I get it you know… your job is difficult and you need to be at your best at every moment… But even then, you are just the right amount.”
He blushes a deep red and tries to maintain an eye contact with you but can’t help but shy away. Can’t help but a surge of emotions flowing through his so called cold heart. Finding himself looking at your lush lips- and he struggles to say anything at the moment.
“Just the right amount? Not too much… not too little?” Leon asks cautiously still finding your words hard to believe. Some one who didn't find him too much. It had to a be a dream.
Is this real? Can this be real?
“Yeah you are…” You answer him honestly. And cup the side of his face and caress his jaw gently, softly whispered. “You are perfect to me.”
My heart…
“Can… can I kiss you?” He whispers to you.
“Yes…” You whispered back.
He doesn’t hesitates as soon as you say yes, He leans in and kisses you. Pressing his lips gently against yours. He’s so close you can feel the heat from his body as you kiss. It wasn’t like you never kissed each other… But this one gave you both intense butterflies and made your heart pound like crazy in your chest.
My god…
He pulls away after a moment, his lips soft. He looks back at you, your eyes meet his and tries to speak something but can’t find anything to say. Opening his mouth trying to form words after he kissed the love of his life but words just got stuck in his throat.
You smiled and cupped his face and kisses him on the forehead and softly whisper. “It’s okay… I know… Just relax with me for a moment…”
Wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly and he does the same. Hugging you back just as tightly and resting his forehead against yours. Kissing you softly on the forehead before softly whispering.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
PHEW. God I am nervous about this one... Wish you guys a very happy new year and enjoy the holidays. And I really hope this fanfic made your day! 🥰🥰🥰
Until next time❤
-Bella
583 notes · View notes
boba-at-323 · 5 months
Text
Stay-home dates with RIIZE !!
Note : OMG !! I had so much fun writing thisssss <333 || DID NOT PROOFREAD PLEASE || Also Idk what to tw but I have mentioned snacks a whole lot of time + I TRIED MY BEST TO MAKE IT GENDER NEUTRAL BUT LIKE SINCE IM FEMALE SO EXCUSE ME ;-; please enjoyyyy !!
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Osaki Shotaro <3 !
Hmm, not a big fan, but as long as you're happy he is too !!
Omg !!
You ask him to film TikToks with you and he's MORE THAN HAPPY !!
So like you've saved a lot of trends and dances you wanna recreate with him.
He's so excited and gets all giggly over it!
Takes it a little too seriously…
Like you're looking at him with your jaw dropped and eyes wide because how did it take him one look to literally MASTER the dance.
Laughs embarrassed when you praise him !!
But you tell him that he's too fast for you ';-; so he apologises and suggests teaching you the dance step by step!
The two of you continuously burst into fits of giggles when something goes wrong.
ITS JUST SO FUNNY BUT IN A CUTE WAY FOR SOME REASON
You'd film like 29837209 TikToks and just have fun goofing around.
You might also end up exhausted on the floor reviewing the videos you filmed.
Thinks you look very cute and asks you to do this often with him!
Might get bored if you don't have a lot to do.
HOWEVER !!!
Would love to talk to you about anything really.
I feel like he's someone who enjoys conversing, so you might actually start having deep conversations that will last for hours.
Hmm rating 8/10 PLS HES SO ADORABLE <3
Rest of the members under the cut !
Song Eunseok <3 !
This man is literally so chill with everything.
Like you'd suggest going for a picnic on a volcano and he'd be like "lol ok."
Okay, maybe not that much but yk what I mean !!
So yeah you're probably sitting with him binge-watching some anime or series.
He's quiet the whole time and is actually very immersed in the story.
However, he will be passing comments every now and then.
And I tell you, these comments are so out of pocket???
Like you can't help but burst out laughing.
And he's just gonna look at you like "😐".
AS IF HE HADN'T SAID THE MOST FUNNIEST THING YOU'VE HEARD ALL WEEK.
So yeah be prepared cuz the witty comments he's gonna slip will crack you so bad.
Like it actually makes you question how his brain works
ESPECIALLY HOW HE DOES LITERAL STAND-UP COMEDY WITH THAT SERIOUS EXPRESSION !!!
But it's okay, that just means he's having fun!
Also, it's very hard to concentrate on whatever you're watching cuz he looks so pretty next to you.
Like you keep on looking at him, smirks 100%
"Yeah I know I'm too hard to resist"
GETS COCKY BUT CAN YOU BLAME HIM !!!
Also makes sure you get your share of snacks!!
I'd rate it a solid 9/10 cuz it's really entertaining!
Jung Sungchan <3 !
HE IS NOT ENTERTAINED BY THE IDEA !!!
But after much convincing, he gives in.
"At least we get to spend time together, right?"
YOU'RE BAKING TOGETHER YIPPIEEEE!!!
But what happens is like,
You're standing there tying your hair back, you ask him for help with your apron.
Gets a little too touchy
You have to slap his arm away and give him a death glare.
Pretends he doesn't know what he did rn 😔
Is actually a very good helping hand.
Like helps you out, follows everything you tell him to do, however...
Has his doubts, and totally shakes his head if he thinks smth is going wrong.
"Y/n are you sure it's 2 cups sugar?" "I don't think we should be using butter…"
NOOO ENDS UP GETTING KICKED OUT OF THE KITCHEN BECAUSE
Like he said, he takes up a large radius.
So this clumsy baby probably toppled over a lot of things, making a very big mess ;-;
Apologises repeatedly with sad puppy eyes 🥹
You kiss his cheek and tell him it's fine
Though you ask him to sit it out and let you handle the rest of the process yourself.
YOU DO DECORATE WTV YOU MADE TOGETHER SO HES VERY EXCITED FOR THAT !!!
I'd rate it a 4/10, this man is NOT meant to be confined to a small space.
Park Wonbin <3 !
Would prefer them actually !!!
He'd absolutely LOVE to cuddle with you throughout the day.
Like he'd just be clinging onto you telling you literally everything that happened to him cuz for some reason he gives me yapper vibes
Though he'd appreciate listening to what you have to tell him, leaving a trail of kisses all over your neck.
Also he LOVES your voice so much omg !
So he can also pull out his guitar and have a serenade with you (english 💀).
Would ask you your favourite song, and if he doesn't know it WILL make sure he knows it the next time you guys have an at-home date
If he knows, he plays it for you encouraging you to sing.
you tell him you think your voice sucks.
A DRAMATIC GASP COMES FROM HIS DIRECTION !!!
"Nonsense idc i just wanna hear your pretty voice <3"
Literally heart eyes for you once you start singing,
Like might actually melt, give you the softest, most lovesick gaze EVER !
There is a possibility he ends up messing up the cords cuz you distracted him !!!
He's so cute pls </3
Omg also, the two of you might also end up in the kitchen cooking smth together, blasting a playlist he made for you!
But you don't know that <3
He actually so desperately wants to do cliche romantic things with you but is too shy to initiate </3
It's giving that "Idk how to flirt so I'm just gonna stare at you till you marry me" meme
HOWEVER !!
Be prepared for endless back hugs because he's just so SO soft for you <333
Anyways yeah 11/10 (+1 is probably cuz I'm so down bad for him)
Hong Seunghan <3 !
My manz I miss him all day everyday ;-;
He's so sweet I tell you, agrees to literally everything.
Putting mbti and stuff aside, I think he'd actually plan out a few activities you could do together.
Like if you're going over to his place, hes prepared snacks and stuff for you.
Hmm !! Video games are a must I believe !!
Like I read he plays FIFA online???
SO yeah, if you know how to play, the both of you would spend hours playing together
I don't see him getting very competitive but will whine if you keep on beating him!
However, will also compliment on how great you are at the game!!
HE FEELS PROUD I TELL YOU !!
However, if you don't know how to play and absolutely suck (like me ;-;)
HE'D BE SO EXCITED TO TEACH YOU !!
When you mess something up, or like if you can't understand something, the pout on your lips makes his heart EXPLODE.
Like he thinks you're the most adorable ever, he'd start squealing if his pride lets him.
Ends up attacking you with kisses and hugs.
The game is long forgotten, just a clingy Seunghan showering you with love because of how adorable he finds you.
I'D RATE IT AN 8/10 TBH BECAUSE HE'D FORGET WHAT PERSONAL SPACE IS !!!
Lee Sohee <3 !
SPENT SO MUCH TIME THINKING SOMETHING FOR HIM 😭
Unlike Seunghan, I can see him playing board games and such with you!
For example, the two of you could be sitting on the floor playing UNO.
But that got boring CUZ HOW DO TWO PEOPLE EVEN PLAY UNO !!!
So takes out a Jenga set because he thought it was very entertaining!
Both of you are screaming SO much when either chooses the wrong piece to remove.
HOWEVER, HE'S USING THE SPECIAL SKILLS EUNSEOK TAUGHT HIM!!!
Which is unfair to you and you WILL whine about it.
"All is fair in war and Jenga"
HIS WORDS NOT MINE !!!
Laughs at you because you're definitely the one who's going to topple the tower over.
So yeah you all spend a lot of time giggling and screaming over board games!
OMG ALSO !! Thanks to Anton, he bought some Lego sets too!!
You all start good but eventually get so frustrated because you can't find one tiny piece.
Ofc you give up and spend the rest of the evening with his karaoke machine !!
HE !! WANTS !! TO !! SING !!
And please you're just so mesmerised the whole time he's singing.
Like woah??? His voice is so good even when he's goofing around? INSANE!!
Though you aren't losing to him, so the both of you get SUPER competitive.
RATING THIS A 7/10 !!
Lee Anton <3 !
Like Wonbin, he'd also enjoy stay-at-home dates.
I can see him enjoying doing anything, to be honest.
Like for example, the two of you could just be lying next to each other sharing with each other reels you see.
Or just him listening to you telling him some tea from your workplace/college etc.
Sitting on the bed together with a variety of snacks sprawled around.
Like Sohee, I can even see him building Legos in silence with you cuz this guy is so patient !
Oh also!
He'd pull out his laptop and shyly ask if you'd like to listen to the music he's created.
After listening, your face is the shocked Pikachu meme.
"Woahhh my boyfriend is so cool :OOO"
Get's blushy over the compliments you shower him with.
Brushes it off saying it's nothing.
THATS A FREAKING LIE LEE CHANYOUNG!!
NEways, teaches you how to try making music.
Laughs if you cry about how difficult it is, he thinks it's adorable.
You ask him to delete the trash you've made, but he creates a separate folder to save everything you've made with him.
ITS ART TO HIM !!! HOW CAN HE THINK SMTH YOU'VE CREATED IS TRASH?!?!?!
Plus he treasures it so much like only if he could somehow just make you feel how much it means to him !!
SO YEAH !
Pretty cute, very cozy, overall nice experience 10/10 <3
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Thank you for reading reblogs and reviews are appreciated ! <3
Title : Stay-home dates with Riize || Word count: 1652 || Genre: fluff ! || Pairing: Riize x implied Fem!Reader (tried making it gender neutral pt.29382938)
178 notes · View notes
thevillainswhore · 1 year
Text
Tension
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Pairing: Massage Therapist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 4.2k
Summary: You’re devastated when your usual massage therapist becomes unavailable at the last minute, but an unexpected trainee is more than happy to handle you.
Warnings: Smut (fing-ering fem receiving, mentions of a-nal play, m-asturbation male receiving)
A/N: Unbeta’d, dividers by saradika and firefly-graphics - also a massive thank you to my babe @rookthorne for helping me edit my header, loves you bitch 💗
Listen, just please use your imaginations with the oil, let’s pretend it’s safe and can be used for… things 👀 okay thank you, enjoy x
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Resting your head against the back of the waiting room leather chair, you await your appointment at your regular spa. Headache already starting to disappear from the eucalyptus aroma of incense seaping into your skin.
You needed this. The long work week draining you of all common sense to not hit your coworkers over their heads every two seconds, due to their incompetence. Now, it has finally come to a close, and you could take the opportunity to indulge in your guilty pleasure.
This was the only way you could continue to keep your head above water. A monthly treat to yourself of a two hour long full body massage - undisturbed peace and soft hands kneading the stress out of your body until it felt like you were floating.
And it was literally heaven on earth to let go of the strong willed nature that came with your work, placing your care into the hands of someone else. Giving up your responsibilities of taking charge and allowing another to take care of you for a little while.
It felt so good to let go. Forgetting all of your worries that seemed silly in the midst of the background waterfall noises that lulled you into calmness.
Jesus, you weren’t even on the massage table yet and you already felt so much lighter.
With that thought, the lovely receptionist, you’ve become familiar with from your numerous visits, walks out from the back room and addresses you with an apologetic expression.
“Miss, I’m so terribly sorry about this, but an unexpected personal emergency has come up for your regular therapist and she’s had to leave before your treatment today.”
Your face drops. The excited anticipation bubbling inside you from at last being able to relax, dying out instantly at her words.
Of course it wasn’t your therapist’s fault that you would miss out on the only pass time that gets you through the month. Of course, it wasn’t her fault you’d probably go home and scream into your pillow. Yet, you couldn’t help your internal frustration at the disappointing outcome.
It didn’t help that you hadn't had an orgasm for god knows how long too. The band inside was you on the verge of snapping. A massage being the only way to soothe the built up tension over the month and you feared you would have a mental breakdown from the added stress.
“Listen, I wouldn’t normally suggest this,” she goes on to explain as you lift your head with intrigue, “but we have a new massage therapist in training, free for your time slot. His clientele base is still quite small. However, he’s received great reviews and he’s happy to cover your treatment today - if that’s something you would consider. Would you like to meet him before coming to a decision?”
Fuck it. It’s either this or try to relieve yourself with your shitty vibrator at home that’ll probably die out before you can finish anyway. And you really didn’t want to make the dent in your bedroom wall any bigger from the other times you’d thrown the useless thing at it.
So, what harm could it do?
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After agreeing to an introduction with the trainee, telling yourself you should at least see if you feel comfortable enough with him, you stand outside the private massage room, waiting to be invited in.
Eventually hearing a breathy shout of “Come in!”, the receptionist opens the door and allows you to step through, the seemingly young man’s back turned towards you as he fiddles with last minute preparations for your massage.
“Just tryna get everythin’ ready for ya, won’ be a minute.”
After finishing up and a final appraisal to the set up, the trainee spins on his fit, claps his hands together and looks at you directly, “Sorry ‘bout that, darlin’! The name's James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky, sweetheart, I’ll be lookin’ after’ya today.”
Holy shit, where the hell did they find this one?
Bucky’s mid length chocolate hair ran rogue with an errand piece falling into his eyes. It took all of your strength to not reach out and tuck it behind his ear, or maybe even scratch your nails through his hair just to grip it and tug to see if he whimpers.
Woah, settle down girl.
A tight white womens beater, stretched across his pecs, showcased his bulging arms and the pure muscle you couldn’t tear your eyes from. You were pretty sure you were drooling, but you couldn’t give a single fuck right now.
If you had to guess, you would have pinned him as a farmhand or a ranch owner from down south before he became a trainee massage therapist - it definitely would have explained his devilishly built form and his southern twang that has your knees weak.
That’s not the only reason I want my legs to be shaking.
It most definitely isn’t difficult to imagine Bucky with a cowboy hat sitting on his head, thick thighs clenching to keep himself steady riding a horse. Or how easy it is to picture him throwing stacks of hay over his shoulders, dirt covering his sweat glistened body as his pure strength gives him no trouble carrying them to the stables.
You don't even realise you still haven’t spoken a word, stood dumbstruck with your mouth gaping open and lost in your unholy thoughts about the living wet dream about to rub you up, completely forgetting another person was in the room with you.
The receptionist speaks up, “Are you comfortable with James stepping in-“
“Yes!”. Your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment from how quickly you answered, clearing your throat and steeling yourself not to continue making an idiot of yourself. “Um- yes of course, yes… not a problem at all.”
You miss Bucky’s sly little smirk as you make the effort to keep your gaze towards the floor, his tongue peaking out and wetting his lips as he gives you a once over.
Things were about to get interesting.
“So sweetheart, I’m gonna step out while you get changed, take all clothin’ off, start off with lyin’ on’ya stomach for me and cover y’lower half with a towel - I’m sure y’know the drill by now.”
Reverting your attention back onto him, your pulse quickens at his nonchalant conversing of stripping naked. Okay, it was standard procedure for the therapist to go over protocol, but that talk from him is sinfully criminal.
Walking up to the door, Bucky suddenly turns around, “Oh and don’t forget to take off the underwear too, darlin’, be back in a tick.” Bucky winks and slaps the doorframe, finally leaving the room.
Fuck my life.
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You have a couple of minutes to compose yourself before Bucky comes back. Changing out of your clothes was almost a relief - sweat clinging to your skin from meeting him and that freaking accent that drove your mind wild. Your panties seemed to agree too, considering the sticky mess that clung to your folds as you pulled them down your legs.
As you now lay face down on the table, folded towel covering your ass - back and legs on display - you anxiously wait for Bucky’s arrival, muscles subtly twitching from either your stress or the need to get fucked.
Probably both.
The door opens to your only knowledge of hearing, sight only focused on the floor from the carved head cushion allowing your face to sit through it. Goosebumps raise on your arms as you listen to the door then quietly close and footsteps get closer towards your direction.
You hold your breath when you see boots stop into your peripheral and legs bend to show a pair of thick thighs straining against the denim of his jeans.
Yep, definitely Bucky.
Lifting your head slightly to look at his face when he doesn’t speak, you choke on your spit when you find him shirtless, stomach marveled with so many abs. You would count, but you’re a little afraid you’ve lost brain cells from his presence alone. And all hope is gone when you see his jeans strung low on his waist - ‘v’ line tantalising your dignity as you wonder how morally wrong it could be to drop to your knees and lick it.
You’re not proud to say you don’t take anything he says in as Bucky begins going through what’s to be expected for your treatment. Ever the professional as you think he probably tells you what to do should you like any adjustments made with his pressure or technique. Luckily, you seem to have gotten away with it as he stands and picks up some oil, tilting your head back down to do some breathing exercises.
“Jus’ the massage today then, sweets? Y’know I wouldn’t mind throwin’ a free facial in there for y’too with the trouble y’had.”
What the fuck?
Your brain short circuits. Surely he must hear what he’s saying out loud… right?
Inwardly shaking your head, you put it down to the lack of intimacy you had gotten recently, mind conjuring illicit fantasies and turning everything he says into something dirty.
You stutter to reply, “N-no, that’s o-okay, just the massage i-is fine.”
The small smile on Bucky’s face is so innocent, like he hasn’t just rebooted your entire being. “Alrightie then darlin’, lemme get started then.”
Guess them breathing exercises went to shit.
Bucky begins slicking his hands up with the massage oil, lathering between his fingers and ensuring all crevices are glistening - especially his veins that bulge all the way up his forearm.
“I’m warnin’ y’though, I’m quite good with my hands.”
You don’t have time to stop yourself blurting the next automatic thought in your head out into the open.
“I bet you are.”
If you could slap yourself you would. Cringing in despair at your ability to make yourself look stupid. You expect things to turn awkward, for Bucky to show unease and even stop the session altogether.
To your surprise, you feel a whisper of a breath caress your neck as he mumbles the very thing to probably cause your death.
“Oh, you have no idea, darlin’.”
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The start of the massage truly had your nerves settling down and calming you enough to actually enjoy yourself. Yeah, you still struggled with keeping your cool with Bucky’s huge hands caressing you with his sensual touch, but you managed to stop your squirming and relax.
Bucky however, couldn’t keep a straight head for the life of him. Softness of your skin and the feel of your curves literally in the palms of his hands had his cock threatening to bust the zipper of his jeans.
Timid little thing you were, so skittish when you saw him and he just had to have a little fun with you. That soon backfired on him the second he got a hold of you. Fingers itching to just smooth down your luscious body and open you up like his own personal present.
Unfortunately, he had to make do with rubbing his erection against the edge of the massage table to give him some relief. You were just so sexy - a stunning face and an amazing figure - never mind how fucking adorably shy you were.
Just my type and I’ll be damned if I don’t get a piece’a ya, sweetheart.
Was it wrong for him to be thinking of a client this way? Of course. Would Bucky most definitely get fired before he’s even completed his training should anyone find out? No doubt about it. Was that going to change his mind over what he was about to do next?
Absolutely fucking not.
You had succeeded in keeping your moans and whimpers locked away when Bucky reached particularly sensitive spots on your back. No, not the ones that felt a little too tender, the places his touch elicited your growing desire - as much as you tried to hide it, he could still hear your little intakes of breaths.
But that’s not what I’m after sweetie, I wanna hear how good I’m makin’ you feel.
So, he comes up with a plan.
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“Oh darlin’, I can feel all those knots in y’upper back, been workin’ so hard ain’t ya, sweets?”
Fuck, you really had. And Bucky’s praise paired with his seductive voice makes you feel all gooey with neediness, trying to stop yourself sinking into your fuzzy headspace as you reply back. “Y-yeah, I mean I guess so.”
“How ‘bout we try somethin’ different, hm?” Bucky begins to explain, “Reckon if we got y’to bend them legs into a kneelin’ position then it’d feel so much better.”
The sincerity of his voice has you rethinking your suspicions towards how exposed you might be. You still had the towel to cover anything private and while your old therapist never suggested anything like this, Bucky may have learned something new and wanted to try it out.
So you begin to do as he’s asked. “Um, l-like this?”
“Tha’s it, arch that back for me, sweetie.” Again, you follow his instructions all too easily. “Little more for me- there ya go, jus’ like that.”
Bucky can’t help the groan that slips out as he observes the thin towel curve over the shape of your ass. You’re not much higher from the first position you were in, but the subtle lift in your legs, and bowed back allows a perfect image for him.
And a perfect chance.
“Gonna work on y’legs now, sweetheart, lemme know if somethin’ ain’t feelin’ good.”
You don’t have a chance to reply as Bucky begins to knead the muscles in your legs. An unrestrained moan escaping from your lips as he uses his thumbs to work the tension out. You feel as though you've been transported to another world, eyes rolling to the back of your head in glorious pleasure.
Meanwhile, Bucky is having the time of his life watching the jiggle of your ass every time he switches up the motion of his strokes. You don’t seem to notice the towel slowly shifting upwards, revealing the bottom of your ass cheeks to him.
He just needs your legs to spread that tiny bit more so he can see your pretty little pussy.
“That feelin’ good for ya, darlin’?”
Apparently, you let go of all inhibitions from the satisfaction Bucky’s hands bring you, all but unbashfully moaning, “Mhmm, god yes Bucky, feels so fuckin’ good.”
That’s what I love to hear.
“Amazin’. Doin’ so great for me sweetheart, jus’ let ya’self relax and Bucky will take care a ya.”
The dip of your back deepens as you unknowingly start to bring your legs more under you, ass canting up like a cat as Bucky’s thumbs rub close to the crevice under your ass cheeks.
He’s so dangerously close to his prize, he can literally see the wetness that’s spilled from your cunt, coating your inner thighs.
Fuck it.
Bracing for the worst, Bucky’s thumb runs over your pussy lips and your breath hitches as the bolt of electricity that shoots through your body. Now fully aware of his intentions, you expect yourself to feel a slither of outrage, some kind of anger at him for letting it go this far and yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to stop him.
Bucky pauses his thumbs in question, waiting to back off as soon as you deny him and allowing you the freedom of consent.
But, you want this.
The fact he stops his ministrations within an inch of your cunt has you unable to hold back your loud whine, ass pushing back into his hold to try and get him to carry on.
As much as Bucky loves your enthusiasm and he’s almost certain you want this as much as he does, he needs to hear your verbal consent in order for him to proceed. “Ah ah, sweet girl, need to know y’want this, need to hear y’say it.”
With great difficulty, fog clouding your head, you manage to mumble a whimper of agreement. “Fuck, y-yes pleaseee Bucky, give it to me.”
And that’s all the confirmation he needs.
Bucky places both thumbs on each cheek and spreads them apart to reveal your pretty, slick pussy, hole pulsing, almost begging to be filled.
You whimper as you feel his long pointer finger slide through the mess you’ve made and teasingly give your throbbing clit a little tap for good measure.
The little shit even has the audacity to chuckle at your desperation.
“Look at ya darlin’, such a fuckin’ good girl for me, ya think we can get y’a little more wet, hm?”.
He laughs at your stutter, no worries for him though, he can’t wait to make sure he leaves your head empty enough for not one single thought to cross your mind.
Bucky gently slaps your leg and bends over you to whisper in your ear, “turn around, pretty girl.”
The last defence of the towel covering your modesty falls from your body as you quickly move to lie on your back, too fucked out to even notice the breeze that hardens your nipples and exposes your tits to Bucky’s gaze.
He could’ve just picked you up and fucked you against the wall right then and there. But Bucky’s a patient man, and he’s not about to put his pleasure before yours. He wants this to last.
Straddling the table as he combs his wild hair back, Bucky grabs your thighs over his forearms with feral need to drag you down towards him, placing your legs over each of his and separating them. This was his personal slice of heaven.
The view of your cunt and the bounce of your tits has him gripping his cock over his jeans, shaky breaths rattling his chest over how turned on he is from the sight - you really were a goddess, a doll for him to play with until you couldn’t walk.
Releasing himself and grabbing the bottle of oil from the table next to him, Bucky looks directly into your eyes, his own hooded as he unscrews the lid. Your high pitched moans and whimpers have his nerves set alight and he can’t wait to see your face as you cum from his fingers alone.
“Buck-Bucky, what a-are you d-doing?”. It takes everything in you to lift yourself on to your elbows, looking down to see him hovering the bottle over your pussy.
“Y’trust me, sweet girl?”. Fuck, with that voice alone you’d put your whole faith in him.
You gently nod as you never take your eyes away from his, that wicked smirk adorning his face as his eyes light up from your answer.
“Good.”
That’s the last thing you hear before you feel the cold splash of oil drip against your pussy and your shocked moan fills the room as your arms give out.
The liquid rolls down your folds, down to your puckered hole and the thought quickly surpasses Bucky of what your reaction would be if he suggested a little anal play.
First things first, Barnes.
Right.
After emptying the remainder of the oil over you, Bucky tosses the bottle onto the floor, and begins to run his fingers over your cunt, shining in all its pleasurable glory. Trailing down to your hole, Bucky begins to press one finger inside you, stopping at the first knuckle only to take it back out and repeat his torturous teasing.
You can’t help your squirming - hands fisted tight in your hair as your toes curl. The relief of a second finger added to the first only lasts for a minute as again, he torments you by going no further than his first knuckles. All you want is for him to slide his fingers as deep as they can go, but Bucky is far too mesmerised with the glisten of his fingers and the feel of your fluttering little pussy.
“W-want more, baby, p-please Bucky, need more.”
The term of endearment as his feasted eyes snap up to look at you, has his cock twitching - you looked so fucking beautiful like this for him and the pleading in your features has him going soft on you.
Always was a sucker for pretty girls begging.
“Need more, sweetheart? Alright pretty girl, y’can have some more.”
You soon figure how Bucky was holding out on you as he fucks you with his two fingers at a quickened pace, the squelch of mixed juices from your cunt loud to your ears and you’d be embarrassed if Bucky didn’t enjoy it.
And he really did, the sound of your arousal leaking out of you because of him leaves him feeling untamed, beastly, as his veins bulge from his arms. His cock is aching, hard from how much he gets off on your pleasure - he knows he can make it better for you, though. He won’t be happy until you lose your voice because of him.
Slowing down, his deep rumble has the knot in your stomach tightening even more, “Think y’can handle another, sweetie? ‘Cause I think y’can, think this wet pussy needs to be filled up till she can’t take no more.”
With that, Bucky eases a third finger along with his other, the stretch just right to have you wailing out with consistent cries of his name.
Curling his fingers against your upper wall, Bucky searches for that spongey rough patch - he wants you to see stars and he isn’t giving up till you do.
“Hold on a sec sweets, lemme just-, find… oh, there it is.”
All of a sudden your back shoots off the table and your scream of pleasure drowns out the sounds of waterfalls in the background.
“Fuck!”
“Tha’s right darlin’, lemme hear y’scream for me.”
You grip his wrist to keep his hand fucking you, his perfect rhythm too good for you to speak something tangible. But you can’t have him changing anything, you need him to keep everything the same, so you can finish.
Bucky still finds it so fucking hot, sweat from exertion gathering on his neck and dripping down his chest. He couldn’t care less, he just wants to see you cum.
He physically has to use his free arm to force your legs open, it won’t do that you’re trying so desperately to close your legs around him. No. He wants to see you tremble in his hold. He’s fucking craving it.
“C’mon baby, know y’so close sweet girl.”
You are so fucking close, so near to that orgasm you haven’t had in so long - you’ve turned dumb, world blurring around you, only important thing in your mind getting to finish.
And you’re done for as soon as Bucky places his thumb on your swollen clit and circles.
“BUCKY!”
He watches as your shrieks fall from your mouth. Tremors rack through your body, legs finally able to close around his hand as tears from the intensity roll down your temples. You’re in your element and he’s never seen sexier in his entire life.
White cream drips from your pussy as Bucky slowly takes his fingers out, not able to help himself as he plays with your folds and starts to fuck your cum back into you.
Soon enough, you begin to calm down, heavy breathing with your occasional whine of overstimulation from his motions blessing his ears.
He leans down to pepper kisses over your heaving stomach and underneath your breasts, other hand stroking over your heated skin and up to your cheek.
“Easy girl, that’s it, deep breaths.”
Bucky continues to talk you down and strokes your sweaty hair back from your face, your eyes closed and mouth open, panting.
He stops his ministrations altogether, but keeps his fingers inside you, his body connected over yours to settle some of his weight on you and bring you back down to earth.
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Giving you a couple of minutes to come down from your fluffy clouds, Bucky analyses all your signals to make sure you’re okay and that you feel safe - and once he completes all his internal checks, he flashes you a dazzling smile.
“So… this may be a bit forward a’me, but what d’ya say I take y’out on a date tomorrow night?”
You chuckle breathlessly at his little joke - as if he didn’t already have his fingers still in your cunt. “Only if you answer my question.” you counter back.
“Sure thing, lil’ darlin’.”
Trying to keep your expression aloof you ask, “What did you do before you started training to be a massage therapist?”
He looks like a little confused puppy as he cocks his head and frowns, but answers anyway with a cheeky squint of his eyes.
“I used to work on my mama’s ranch back home, sweetheart.”
Your head rolls back onto your shoulders as Bucky begins picking up the steady pace of his fingers again, fucked out smile on your face in rememberance to your guesses from earlier.
Fucking knew it.
He may not have the slightest clue what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t have to know as long as he’s the one who’s making you smile like that.
And, he already can’t wait for your next meeting as he unbuttons his jeans and pulls down his zipper to bring his dick out and start fucking his fist while he enjoys the sight of his other hand fucking your cunt.
“Now, we got another hour to make sure ya get what y’paid for darlin’, so hold on tight and enjoy the ride.”
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A/N: who doesn’t love a happy ending, right? 😈
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paimonial-rage · 5 months
Text
procedural - alhaitham
[random writing event] | requested by @crane1000
Being known as one of those more free-spirited sort, you were never one for schedules. It wasn’t that you had anything against them. You just found it difficult to devote yourself to doing things at a set time on a set day was rather constricting. So when you were hired to work as the Akademiya’s scribe’s assistant, you were in for a whirlwind of change. Alhaitham was scheduled. Procedural, even. And he made sure you were too.
With Alhaitham, work started at 9am sharp. After half an hour of reviewing his intray, he would start on drafting proposals, copying documents, and creating lists. It was your job to maintain and organize the many papers that passed through his hands. Lunch was taken at noon on the dot. After, you would be out and about passing correspondence, picking up new books from the House of Daena, and communicating with the other departments. Once 5pm hit, you were finally released.
Through everything, Alhaitham prized efficiency and efficacy above all else. And though it took time to get used to his spartan ways, you could see the value in following his work style. Everything made sense. That is, mostly everything. When you sat down and really thought about everything, though, you couldn’t help but feel that there was something… odd about the way he did a few things.
Ever since you started, Alhaitham began eating out for lunch almost everyday, always inviting you along. Which was weird because you heard he usually brought lunch made by his roommate. You didn’t think it was too strange at first. You were friends with Alhaitham during your student years, after all. He probably wanted to catch up. But to continue on for a few months…?
It didn’t help that you did much of the talking at lunch. Sure, you were extremely talkative, but you thought he’d surely get tired of listening to you ramble on by now. But no, no matter how much you babbled about, he’d always respond with some intelligent response showing he was listening to you all along. That wasn’t even considering the way he opted to sit next to instead of across from you. Were you that interesting to listen to?
Then there was the way he’d actually listen to and take the random advice you’d give. The new fountain pens upon his desk were suggested by you, as were the coffee beans he now used at home. He let you drag him to new restaurants at lunch and borrowed the books you raved about in the House of Daena. You never heard of him doing this for anyone else.
And lastly…
“Are you ready to go?”
“Yep! Just finished packing up,” you replied, standing up from your desk. “Let’s go.”
As that classes were finally finished for the day, the Akademiya was abuzz with students. In the back of your mind, you had no doubt that the streets of Sumeru City would only be busier seeing that most people were finally leaving work.
“You don’t need to walk me home,” you began with an apologetic laugh. “It’s probably going to take a while.”
“It’s fine,” he replied. “Besides, weren’t you the one that insisted on finishing your story earlier?”
“Oh, you’re right!” You exclaimed. “So what happened next was…”
As you chatted about the happenings and various gossip that managed to find their way into your nosy ears, at some point your hand found its way into his. It often happened seeing that the busy roads often pushed and shoved you about. And as kind as he was to help you, you couldn’t help but feel that it was, like all the other things, unnecessary.
“Why are you so nice to me?” You found yourself asking when you finally reached your home.
Though his eyes widened for a moment, they soon narrowed as he crossed his arms as if observing you.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
You paused in thought.
“Because you see me as a friend?” You asked curiously.
You were met with a long exasperated sigh.
“Sure, let’s say that,” he finally said as he turned to leave. “Rest well.”
As you waved him goodbye, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh to yourself. Oh well. You’ll figure out his secrets some other time.
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rinkkuma · 1 year
Text
୨୧ SUPER SHY
ft. sae itoshi
tags. highschool au, a bit of cussing, gn!reader, the word ‘pretty’ is used but i still believe they're gn, all fluff ! / author's note. based on the song, super shy by newjeans!! another no skip album from the newjeans girlies!!! :3 I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. proofread, but i'm dumb and notice errors a month after i post something so </3 is he ooc? probably, but i love him so it doesn't matter
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“do you even think he even knows my name?” you pout as ask your long time best friend, mai, if she thinks sae itoshi, someone you've developed a tiny crush on, at least knows your name.
you've sat in front of him since the beginning of the school year in your math class, but never mustering up enough courage to talk to him. (you personally think you've “talked” to him when he asked you for a pencil, but mai thinks otherwise, “it only counts when you actually have a full on conversation with him.” she tells you.)
“hmm, typically i'd say yes because of how long we've been in school, but you haven't even talked to him. ever. so, no.” mai smirks, she's sure he knows your name because of attendance being taken verbally daily, but decides to tease you so you finally decide to talk to him.
“you know for a best friend, you're really great at reassuring me.” you sarcastically say as your dramatically lean back into your chair.
mai was actually great at comforting and reassuring people, but at this moment in time, she seems very annoyed that you haven't made any moves on sae and seems to be pushing you to more and more to everyday.
mai laughs before confidently saying, “i know!” with a flip to her hair.
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you have no idea if you're dreaming or not.
did you really just get paired up with the sae itoshi for the upcoming partner quiz?
did the gods finally answer your prayers every time there was a partner quiz to get paired up with him?
honestly, you could care less the reason. but you swear this is a dream and your heart started racing so fucking fast the moment your teacher said your's and sae's name in one sentence.
you swear you're about to pass out when sae gives you a small nod as he moves to the seat next to you so it's easier for the two of you to work together. wait—did he just give you a small smile too?
fuck him for being so pretty and smelling so good. it is so hard to concentrate on your review for the quiz while sitting next to him. you hope he doesn't see your side glances every few seconds and how your face is ever so slightly burning up.
“hey, you okay? you've barely done any problems..” sae suddenly says, breaking the awkward silence as he looks at your paper.
“yeah!” you nearly jump at his words and immediately sit up, composing yourself as best as you can before turning your attention to your practically blank paper.
sae chuckles before placing his paper on your desk for you to copy his work. who knew the genius (on the field and academically) would let someone copy his work?
“you're a mess,” he laughs, how dare he laugh at you and how dare he point out how flustered you were. “but you're cute, y/n.”
you swear you stop functioning.
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sae has been on your mind all the time after getting paired up with him. he even starts talking to you in class even after he's not required to. he's a little bolder than he gives off to be. maybe you're being delusional, but is he ever so slightly flirting with you?
but, nonetheless sae is actually a sweetheart and even starts hangs out with you at lunch, (and buys you lunch if you ever forget yours!) and walks you home from school.
“hey.” sae muttered as he plopped down next to you at the lunch table.
“hi.” you say, as you swallow a bite of your food. the food was actually his from home, but he insisted on giving you his and it would be fine and that he could just buy something from the cafeteria.
coincidentally, the cafeteria was selling something you didn't particularly enjoy, so you were grateful sae gave you his. but, still denying it at first about how you didn't want to take his because of how frequently he buys you lunch.
weird, you swear you're luck has increased like crazy ever since you started hanging out with sae, getting higher scores on tests, (he's been studying with you when you're having trouble on a unit) and getting things you've been talking about wanting for a while out of the blue. (he's the person you've been ranting about wanting these things and he secretly places them in your locker the next day)
hey, maybe he was a lucky charm. and he was stupidity handsome too. and he had the sweetest personality ever, and—
you feel that you only fall for him more everyday. you were so fucking shy around him at first, but now you feel comfortable around him, hell even at the level of comfortable-ness you feel with mai.
sae itoshi was odd, but he was special.
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it's been a while since you became friends with sae. summer was nearing and your relationship friendship is at an all time high.
one day though, sae asks you to meet up with him at a nearby park; a park that you enjoyed visiting while on walks, the flowers still somehow just as beautiful as when they first bloomed even as the heat reels in.
you throw on a cute outfit before heading out to meet sae. it wasn't strange that sae brought you to breathtakingly beautiful spots, but this one felt particularly special.
“hey.” sae greets in his stupidity smooth voice. he looks as handsome as ever, except his hair a little different which makes him look all the more handsome.
he's sitting on a bench under a flower tree that has lost a majority of its petals, somehow it still looks beautiful.
“hi.” you wave and smile before taking a seat next to him under the tree.
“so, why'd you bring me here today?” you know why, simply just sitting and talking was sae's favorite way to spend time with you, but something inside you urges you to ask.
“just the normal, i guess.” he shrugs, before ushering you to start talking about whatever was on your mind.
whenever it was gossip, something that has been bothering you, or a new show you started watching, sae loved listening to you talk. he looked at you with the most intense expression ever while you blabbed on about whatever, carefully listening to every word that comes out of your pretty mouth.
he isn't even listening anymore. something about you today that just.. makes him stop listening. you looked so fucking pretty today. don't get the wrong idea—he thought you looked pretty everyday, but something about you today that pushes him to finally say the words he's been dying to tell you for a while now.
“earth to sae—hey! are you even listening?” you call out to him, your voice snapping him out of the trance.
how long was he not responding to you? oh god, it seems like a quite a bit since you were touching his shoulder.
oh. you were touching his shoulder.
sae takes a deep breath before calming himself and averting his gaze back to you.
“be mine, idiot.” sae blurts. okay, he didn't mean to say idiot, but he knows you don't take it seriously, so he stares at you with his stupid pretty eyes, waiting for your response.
you are suddenly taken back to the emotions you felt when you first finally talked to sae—a flustered mess, shy as hell.
if anyone passed by they would've guessed you two were having a staring contest because of how long you were staring at each other in silence, either of you not seeming to blink.
you two stay in silence before you finally talk after what seemed like a century.
“what?” is all you manage to breathe out. not an ideal response, but hey, you need to absolutely be 100% you heard him right.
sae huffs before speaking again.
“you heard me. be mine. i'm tired of you not being mine.”
you feel so warm inside and you swear you're gonna pass out.
before you can say anything, sae gently pulls you close to him and kisses you. and holy shit, his lips are so so soft.
you can't help but melt into his kiss and touch, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in a little closer.
he pulls away smirking.
“guess that's a yes?” he knows the affect he has on you and you hate it.
“no.” you jokingly roll your eyes, knowing sae knows you don't mean it at all. your shyness—whenever it had been around him or someone else, sae had always thought it was so cute.
“you wish.” he chuckles, before pulling you into his chest.
your shyness wouldn't drive sae away. never in a million years.
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studentbyday · 17 days
Text
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week 1. a stuttering start.
i can't believe autumn is already approaching. i feel like i haven't done much to truly live on my own terms this year... (the majority of my time was spent either chained to my desk, living the studying hermit life as usual, or...and this is a new one for this era of my life, feeling like a child following the real adults around on my travels which @zzzzzestforlife documents way better tbh. the travels, that is...)
in addition i've been feeling very unmotivated and numb this school year. even more so than usual. i've never been as zesty as...well, Zesty when it comes to new school years, but it has slowly been getting worse since i started uni and i think i'm getting dangerously close to falling off some cliff i'll later realize was an important cliff to not fall off of. do you get what i mean? i'm only speaking vaguely because i myself do not quite know.
i oscillate between wanting to be extraordinary and extra ordinary. i have fallen back into bad habits, which do not set a good precedent. and overall i feel lost. so so lost that i started reading designing your life. and dulled by the isolation of school i can hardly focus. it's not a new problem, i've just finally been able to put words to it after all these years. engaging and/or cathartic verbal conversation brings me back to life, whether i'm listening or speaking, but i don't get enough of that in my daily life...this is just a very weird mundane state to be in. don't get me wrong, i was relieved to get back to this life with a very predictable pattern after the hectic-ness of travel, but something about it always felt off and i almost can't believe that only now i've realized why.
anyway, feelings pass. and i have overcome the jet lag, so i am that much more energized (and perhaps a little more desperate) to bulldoze through this problem.
Study:
Read/skimmed all the syllabi for anything new (much of it is the same year-to-year as they're all courses in the same faculty and i am resigned to the fact that there will be weighty group work in at least one course out of every year)
Caught up on course announcements
Finished microbiology module for this week (hmmm i read like half of this module last year when i attempted and then dropped this course so it wasn't the most interesting the second time around but i think it'll get better as i get to the new stuff and the nitty-gritty details 🔬 mwahahaha 🦠 i also decided last minute to make flashcards for these and had to transfer my notes to anki. i wish there weren't so many isolated facts or similar but distinct processes i need to remember.)
Made flashcards for half of this week's immunology content (seems to be a memorization-heavy course and i think i really need the active recall since i barely remember the pre-req info 😅 luckily they review it in the module... 🤭)
Reviewed some of the flashcards made this week
Worked on (but didn't finish) global health slides for this week (i'm...not entirely sure what i should be taking notes on or how because...this all seems either very common sense or kind of..."woo-woo" based on my way of understanding the world...but ig that's my own biases talking? i hope they'll just test us on the common sense stuff. that will be easier for my brain 🥴)
Around half of pathology slides are left from this week (probably the most work intensive course i'm taking rn based on the timeline 😵 but also it's shaping up to be my favorite subject this semester because the modules are so well designed AND it's large processes or, even if it's smaller concepts, they're all connected to each other so i don't need flashcards!...i think! i can just pull on the thread of memory and it all unspools (...ideally...)!)
Wrote down due dates for all assessments this semester
Other life things: (yeah idk what to call this section)
I became a 6AM girlie!!! 🥰🥰🥰
Unpacked
Washed my water bottle
Caught up with a friend 💗
Health:
Yoga x2
Journalled x2
Early morning walk in nature x1 (the air smelled so so fresh i was so glad i went out...and even gladder that i went out when i did because after that the air quality got super bad from wildfire smoke 🥺)
Pilates x1 (i made it! in 2 split sessions, but still! and i feel great!!! 😃 i'm so glad i found this channel because she explains the moves in a way that i can get it even with my bad coordination 😅 she also goes slowly and there is no annoying workout music so i can completely focus on the movements and how they feel, it's perfect. 😊)
Music in My Head:
Blue Danube Waltz (OG piano version)
Treat People With Kindness
On the Sunny Side of the Street
Hikaru Nara (the perfect song for my current ambivalent mood because the whole theme of the anime, which is reflected in the sound of this arrangement, is the need to reignite your spark for the things that mean something to you and make the absolute most of it because life is short)
a few dark academia playlists that i put on loop to study to (links under the cut) (somehow the ones with new age music are the only ones i can listen to...light/quiet enough that it doesn't interrupt my thoughts but intense and melodic enough that it puts me in the mood to focus 😅)
youtube
youtube
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fluentmoviequoter · 4 months
Text
Self-Sacrificial
Requested Here!
Pairing: Jim Street x fem!SWAT!reader
Summary: You like Street as more than a friend, but think he will never feel the same. When you nearly lose him, you accuse him of not caring about you or anyone else because you can't see the truth.
Warnings: quick joke about being dead, angst to fluff, arguments, Street gets hit by a car, fluffy comfort
Word Count: 2.7k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List
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“What are you doing?” Street asks from above you. He taps your leg with his foot as he continues, “You dead or something? You’ll be hard to replace.”
“I’ve been waiting for you,” you answer. “You’re late.”
As you open your eyes, Street shakes his head and offers a hand. You accept his help and allow him to pull you from the concrete beside the S.W.A.T. HQ entrance. Street leads you inside, but before you can greet the rest of your team, Lynch calls you into her office.
“If I get fired for waiting for you, I’ll be very mad,” you mumble as you pass Street.
“I need to talk to you as a woman, not as a lieutenant,” Lynch explains as you close her office door.
“Okay,” you murmur slowly. “As long as I’m not in trouble.”
“No,” she assures with a smile. “It’s about your relationship with Street.”
“Relationship?” you repeat. “We’re not-“
Lynch raises her hand to stop you. “I know, I’ve heard it. You’re friends, that’s all. If that’s what you’re sticking with, fine. But… you and Street are special.”
“You’re still talking as my accidental mother figure, right?”
Lynch rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue with your terminology. From the moment you began working with her, she took an unexpected role in your career and in your life.
“Just be careful, okay. Lie to yourself if you need to, but don’t let the blinders you keep on get in the way of everything else,” she concludes. “And if you decide to take those blinders off, let me know and we’ll get ahead of IA.”
“Blinders,” you whisper. “Sure thing. Thanks for the talk.”
Hondo knocks before he opens Lynch’s door. “We’re rolling.”
You nod at Lynch and then rush out after Hondo to join your team. Those blinders she mentioned are a topic you’d rather ignore. They’re important to you because the moment you look at Street the way you want to – as more than a teammate and friend – you’ll be exposed to the harsh truth that Street will never see you the same way. The only mirror image in this situation is the heartbreak you’ll see looking back at you.
As you climb into Black Betty, Tan and Luca are discussing a new restaurant opening this weekend. You should be used to their oddly timed topics by now, you think.
“I’d be happy to test it out for you,” Street offers. “Give me a few hours to get a date and then you can have a full review by tomorrow.”
Your jaw clenches. Street is your best friend, but that doesn’t make this any easier. Whenever he says or does something that reminds you of his ability and desire to date women who aren’t you, you take a step back. The teasing, the competition, and incredible bond you have with him strains when you do this, and he suffers because of your buried feelings, but losing him may be better than learning you can never have him.
“What do you think?” Street asks you.
You shrug and keep your attention on your helmet.
“C’mon,” he presses. “Everybody has an opinion on good restaurants.”
“You certainly do,” you mumble.
“What does that mean?”
Deacon and Hondo share a look that goes unnoticed by both you and Street. With your eyes down, and Street’s locked on you, it’s incredible to the rest of your team that you can’t actually see what is right in front of you.
“I’m sure it’s a great place for dates,” you agree.
“And?” Street questions.
“And what?”
“What is wrong with you?”
You shrug again and Hondo cuts Street off to explain the plan for the raid. He puts you and Street on opposite sides of the house, which is probably in your best interest.
“You can’t just ignore me,” Street whispers harshly as you exit Black Betty.
“We’re working,” you remind him.
“If you can keep working without getting exhausted from the back and forth of being my friend and ignoring me because you’re jealous about my date or something, I can do my job and ask a question.”
You take a deep breath, willing yourself not to respond to his low jab. “Let’s just finish the raid, Street, and if you want to make up more stupid ideas about why I don’t want to talk to you sometimes later, I’ll try my best to listen.”
Street reaches for your arm, but you step away quickly to join Deacon.
“You’re not just hurting him, you know?” Deacon murmurs.
You don’t answer, but as you follow Deacon to the west side of the house, you find yourself thinking about Street again. The feelings that stir within you every time you see Street hurt you far worse than they will ever hurt him. If you can survive his lack of feelings, he can deal with you getting some space.
“22-David, in position on 3 side,” Luca radios.
“30-David, ready on 4,” Deacon adds.
“26-David, go for 2,” Street says.
“20-David, breach on my mark,” Hondo commands. “3, 2, go, go, go.”
You follow Deacon into a side door and through a tight hallway. As you enter the kitchen in the back corner of the house, there’s no sign of the resident.
“Eyes on one suspect,” Street alerts. “He’s running east; 26-David in pursuit.”
“One in custody,” Luca calls.
Deacon gestures back toward the door you entered and tells your team that you’re assisting Street. As you run back into the yard, you navigate around the house and toward the road quickly.
“LAPD!” Street yells ahead of you. “Stop!”
The suspect turns off of the sidewalk suddenly and sprints across the road. You speed up as Street turns to follow him. A car engine rumbles around the curve, and you know they won’t be able to see anyone in the path until it’s too late.
“Street!” you yell.
The engine grows louder, and your lungs seem to constrict as you watch the driver round the corner. They appear to be going the speed limit, but that doesn’t make what happens next any less painful. As the suspect reaches the sidewalk on the other side, you only watch Street. The approaching car slides to a stop, but it’s not fast enough.
“Street!” you yell again.
The bumper knocks his legs out from under him, and his helmet dents the hood before he rolls back onto the asphalt. As you reach him, you rip your helmet off to see him better.
“Go get him,” Street implores, holding his stomach.
“No, Street,” you argue.
“Get him. I’m fine.”
Street groans and you know he isn’t fine, but you need that suspect in custody today. You leave your helmet beside Street and run faster than you ever have before. Without thinking, you tackle the suspect to the concrete and cuff him as he moans in pain.
“Hondo, Street’s down. Suspect in custody,” you radio.
“R/A’s en route,” Hondo replies.
Luca runs toward you as Deacon and Hondo approach Street. The driver is standing by his door and rubbing his hand over his face nervously. Everything in you wants to run back to Street and help him, tell him that he’s special to you and you need him, but that’s not your job right now. Maybe Lynch was right about those blinders, you think. Then, as you remember what Deacon said, you realize that the burning in your chest has nothing to do with how hard you ran, and everything to do with the fact that you may lose Street anyway, and he will never know that you see him as so much more than your best friend.
“Let’s go,” Luca says as he pulls the suspect to his feet. “You alright?” he asks you.
You swallow quickly and nod. The ambulance arrives as you and Luca meet the responding patrol officers, and you miss your chance to go with Street.
“He’s going to St. Stephen’s,” Deacon tells you after everything silences. “He was still conscious, so that’s a good sign.”
“Deacon,” you begin. “I can’t- I can’t lose him.”
“He needs you,” Deacon adds. “Luca’s gonna drop you off on the way back to HQ.”
You nod. Everything numbs as you follow Deacon to Black Betty. There’s nothing you can think of or say that will make this go away, not without telling Street everything. As Luca drives to the hospital and your team talks – it’s nothing more than muffled background noise as you stare at the empty seat before you – your emotions shift. You almost lost Street because he didn’t listen, because he got caught up in the chase and didn’t think about how his decision would affect him or anyone else.
“Thanks, Luca,” you mumble as you exit the double doors.
The rest of your team pulls away as you walk into the hospital. With your uniform still on, you don’t even have to ask anyone for help before you’re led to Street’s side.
“Hey!” he calls when he sees you. “Oh, ow,” he mumbles as he lays back.
Your plan to tell him the truth disappears when you see the smile on his face. He still doesn’t realize just how stupid he was.
“Glad you’re okay,” you say. “Though I’m sure that’s just luck. You- Street, that was so reckless. If you want to throw away your safety, do it on your time!”
“I-“
“No; whatever excuse you’re coming up with, just save it. You’re self-sacrificial and today proved why. You don’t care about anyone else, and you don’t seem to realize or care that I- that people care about you! When you pull that hero act, you’re showing how blind and how stupid you are.”
You release a breath as you finish. Part of you whispers that you’re being a hypocrite; Street isn’t the only blind and stupid one in this hospital room. He’s not the only one sacrificing parts of himself because he thinks being selfish and secretive is the only way to stay happy and avoid rejection. So, you decide to listen to the part that is mad at Street for risking his life and not caring how it affected you. And the rest of your team, of course.
Street’s brows furrow as you rant. After you fall silent, he asks, “Are you done?”
“Yeah,” you answer.
“I’m fine,” Street argues. “You seem very upset, and I’m sorry about that, but it’s a minor injury, and I-“
You weren’t expecting Street to argue with you, to find a way to make you seem wrong for caring about him. And when he says minor injury as if he wasn’t hit by a car, you know you can’t stay. Without a word, you turn and exit his room as you ignore his calls for you.
“Hey,” Hicks calls.
You look up and see him walking through the hall, likely to see Street.
“Is he okay?”
“He’s… he’s still Street,” you say.
“And you?”
You shrug and answer, “I didn’t get hit by a car. I’m heading back to HQ.”
Hicks nods and taps your shoulder kindly as you leave. You need to blow off some steam and get Street off your mind for a while, and HQ is the perfect place to do that.
As you call Deacon to come get you, Hicks enters Street’s room and closes the door.
“How you managed to not break your leg is a mystery for the ages,” Hicks says.
“Well, apparently I’m just lucky,” Street murmurs. “And blind, and stupid.”
Hicks nods as he takes a seat. “What’d you do to make her so angry?”
“Nothing! She’s mad because I’m ‘self-sacrificial’ and it was a misguided ‘hero act.’ Her words.”
“You think she’s wrong? No self-sacrificial motivations?”
Street looks away from Hicks as he considers why he ran after that suspect without looking and why he ignored you when you yelled his name.
“We got into an argument before we got there,” Street admits.
“I didn’t realize you two were already together.”
“We’re not. She, uh, she’d never.”
“Right,” Hicks agrees sarcastically. “Because that woman who just came in here and yelled at you for getting hurt doesn’t feel anything for you. Surely you can see, despite your track record, that she cares that you got hurt. She’s mad because she could have lost you.”
“She can’t lose something she doesn’t want.”
“Street, open your eyes. No one yells at someone they’re indifferent to. But someone you’re scared to lose? They’re worth getting mad about.”
Street replays your words in his mind. You don’t care about anyone else, and you don’t seem to realize or care that I- that people care about you! You almost said it, Street realizes. You almost admitted the very thing Street has thought for longer than he remembers.
“When can I leave?” Street asks.
“Easy,” Hicks answers. “They’ve got to observe you for a while and make sure you don’t have any internal damage.”
“Is the driver okay?”
Hicks stands and buttons his jacket as he says, “You’re not that strong, kid.”
As Street gets advice from Hicks, you try to avoid Lynch. It doesn’t go well, however, because the moment your fist makes impact with the punching bag, she appears.
“We need to talk,” she says.
“Can it wait?” you ask between a jab and a cross.
“No. I know you’re worried about Street, where that anger is coming from. But the question I have is, do you know why you’re so upset?”
“Because he could’ve gotten himself killed and he doesn’t care!” you exclaim.
“He doesn’t care that he could have died, or he doesn’t care that he would’ve been taken away from you?” Lynch challenges.
You drop your hands and exhale. “What does that mean?”
“You tell me. Is the anger because you care about him and need him or because he went against protocol? For me, I would be mad about the paperwork I had to do, but you…”
“So, what you’re telling me is that I got angry with him because I don’t want to lose him. The one man in the world that I have absolutely no chance of ever having. That doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe not. Or it could be that the idea you can’t have him is just that – your idea. If you never give him the chance to answer, you’ll never know.”
“But I could lose him anyway,” you say softly.
“Or you could lose the chance to have him. Just… think about it, figure out why it bothers you so much, and then do something about it. Whether that’s telling him the truth or just being a supportive team member.”
You watch Lynch leave, then turn away from the bag.
“Ready?” Deacon asks.
“What?” you reply.
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask for a ride back to Street.”
“You don’t have to rub it in, Mr. I-know-my-teammates-well-and-have-scary-good-intuition.”
“It’s a wonder I even have a license to drive you with a last name like that,” Deacon teases as he leads you to the parking area.
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Outside Street’s room, you stop and take a deep breath. After you knock, you step through the open door and stop at the foot of his bed.
“I’m sorry,” you begin. “I thought-“
“I care about you,” Street interrupts. “I like you. I’ve liked you for so long that I don’t remember life without you.”
Your eyes widen with Street’s confession. Even if he’s exaggerating, hearing that you’ve had an effect like that on Jim Street gives you hope. He’s everything you want and more, but you never expected to hear anything like this from him.
“I like you, too,” you confess. “That’s why I got so mad. I didn’t want to lose you, but I shouldn’t have said all of that about you. I’m sorry.”
“I was self-sacrificial. I couldn’t see that you cared, so I didn’t think it would matter.”
“Of course it matters, Street. You matter,” you insist as you walk to his side.
You take Street’s hand, and he smiles at you. There’s still a pain in you, a sympathetic, emotional hurt for Street and what you both went through.
“I guess it’s a good thing I was stupid and blind enough to get run over by an innocent bystander,” Street jokes.
“You’re insufferable,” you respond.
Your smile betrays you, and Street knows you don’t mean that. You meant everything before. Though you think it’s too early for him to be joking about his accident and the injuries he’ll certainly feel tomorrow, you appreciate his sense of humor and the way he holds your hand. He can be insufferable, but now that you’re finally accepting the truth that Jim Street likes you too, it’s different and it always will be.
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fablesrose · 5 months
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Hiiiii! Your leverage rewrite is giving me Eliot Spencer BRAINROT and I saw your requests were open, so I was wondering if you would be interested in writing something about the reader getting a bit beat up on a job, and falling asleep on Eliot while recovering? I don’t mind if it’s a oneshot, or if you want to put it in the rewrite or something. Thanks regardless, I love your writing so much!
Hi!!! Thank you so much, you can't even believe how much that means to me! I'm glad someone else is in the Eliot brainrot with me! I'm so sorry it took so long to post this, ever since you sent this I have been thinking about it and what I wanted to do with it and I finally got it on paper. Hope you like it!
Stay With Me
Eliot Spencer x Reader Words: 2.4k
As far as jobs went, this one wasn’t too bad. The ultimate goal was to steal some files for our client to prove gross misconduct. They would then go to the press or police, probably both, knowing how these types of jobs usually went. We were approaching the end game when some guards started to catch on. Parker and Hardison needed some more time and everyone else was preoccupied. So, it fell on me to be a distraction.
I quickly made my way through the building, dodging guards along the way until I made it to where Hardison and Parker were holed up, collecting files. 
“What are you doing here?” Hardison asked when he saw me step into the room. “You’re supposed to be keeping the guards away from us!”
“And I’m working on it!” I replied. 
Parker didn’t acknowledge me as she sorted through the physical files that she pulled from a cracked safe. 
“Parker, hand me a file we don’t need,” I asked and she quickly handed one over without looking at me. I grabbed it and turned back to Hardison, “Do you have a spare flash drive that has stuff that isn't important or nothing at all?”
He looked at me with a puzzled expression before pulling one out of his bag, “What are you doing?” 
I pocketed it quickly before answering, “Well the guards are coming to this room, they know something is up. What do you think they’re gonna do when they see someone walking out of the room carrying a file?”
Hardison started to nod along, “they’re gonna go after you and not bother to check the room.”
“Yup!” I called as I approached the door to leave. 
“What about the flash drive?”
I faced him before stepping over the threshold, “If I get caught, give them something to find.” I winked before stepping backwards into the hall. 
Just in time too. As the door latched, a group of three guards stepped around the corner. They made eye contact with me and I froze momentarily. 
“Hey!” One of them yelled at me.
I quickly dashed down the hall in the opposite direction. As I turned a corner, I looked back to see that all of them were hot on my heels and passed the room without a second thought. The one who yelled at me was talking through his radio to the other guards, directing them to my approximate location to try and head me off. It worked alright. Now to test my navigation and escape abilities. 
One thing I was blessed with was a pretty good memory and an interest in architecture. I liked reviewing blueprints and with the help of Parker, I was able to remember the layout of the current building. We were also able to identify interesting weak points and possible escape routes. This wasn’t the time to doubt my memory or my speed, so I just kept running. 
The original guards chasing me had fallen further and further behind, but I could still hear them behind me, so I couldn’t slow down. I turned another corner to find a lone guard running towards me. 
Change of plan. 
He got within a couple of yards when I threw the file I had in my hand in his face. It caused him to stumble just enough for me to get a head start down a different hallway. I finally made it to a stairwell and started making my way down. I had a large enough head start that I had almost thought I had lost them as I approached the bottom. I was proven wrong when a stairwell door above me burst open and sounds of shouting echoed down the stairs. I didn’t wait to see which direction they went before I burst through a door myself into the basement of the building. 
“Y/n,” Eliot said through comms, “Where are you? You still dealing with guards?”
“Yeah,” I panted, continuing to run and navigate the twisting hallways, “I’m doing okay, I’m in the basement heading to the north east corner where there should be-”
I turned yet another corner where the largest man I had ever seen stood barely three feet away.  He was dressed in a guard uniform and had his arm outstretched right in front of me. I couldn’t finish my sentence to Eliot before the guard clotheslined me, landing me flat on my back and knocking the rest of my breath out of my lungs.
I groaned, trying to scramble to my feet. “Where the hell did you come from?” I gasped, trying to catch my breath and run away.
The guard didn’t say anything as he grabbed my arm in a tight grip, pulling me to my feet. 
I wriggled and thrashed, trying to land a blow anywhere I could to break free, but the guard still didn’t budge. “Where do they keep you? In a cage?” I yelled exasperatedly, still not finding any opening. 
The guard didn’t seem to like the insinuation and with a grunt threw me against the wall. My shoulder and hip hit first, but it didn’t completely stop the momentum of my head from hitting the wall. A jolt of pain shot through my whole body before dulling to a throbbing ache. The only thing I could seem to do was curl into a ball, hoping it would make my body feel better. 
It sounded like someone was talking to me through the earpiece, but I couldn’t focus on it or decipher who was saying what. A slight whimper escaped my lips as I tried to raise my head. 
The guard approached me and started to rustle through the pockets of my jacket. He stuck his hand into the pocket where the dud flash drive was and I mustered all the strength I could into my less injured arm and launched it at his face. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was going for, a punch, slap, or scratch his eyes out, but I made forceful contact and I did feel my nails catch skin. 
The guard stumbled back, holding his face and swore loudly, the first word I had heard him utter. 
“He speaks,” I said with a pained chuckle from the floor. 
That comment also wasn’t appreciated as the guard gave me a swift kick to the gut. I simply gasped, not being able to muster up a sound to voice the pain. I wasn’t even sure if I could breathe anymore. My eyes screwed shut and I rested my head against the floor, not wanting to muster the strength to hold it up anymore. I was expecting the guard to come back and start searching me again, or even some more pain, but it didn’t come. 
I pried one eye open to see Eliot standing a few paces down the hall.
“Don’t touch her!” He growled, taking calculated steps towards the guard. 
The guard grunted, “Make me. I’ll snap you like a twig, too.”
I saw Eliot’s lips twitch into a smile before taking a fighting stance. The fight didn’t last long once the guard made the first move. He did get a couple hits on Eliot, but not enough to slow him down and knock him out. The guard hit the ground with a large thud that I could have sworn shook the ground. 
During the fight, I was able to maneuver myself into a sitting position against the wall. I started to try and use it to stand up when Eliot quickly approached me and gently helped me to my feet. He pulled my arm over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around my waist, carrying most of my weight as we walked down the hallway. 
“Where are the rest of the guards? Do we have to hurry out of here?” I asked slowly, trying to keep the ache out of my voice and calculate how to get out. I couldn’t use my previous route with how injured and sluggish I was now. 
“On a wild goose chase,” Eliot replied, not hesitating in his steps back toward the stairwell. 
“I’m not the goose, am I?” I asked humorously, but trying to keep laughing to a minimum. I had a feeling it would hurt if I tried.
Eliot chucked though. “No, I got them out of the picture so we can get out of here.”
My mind started running in circles trying to decide what he did, but eventually I half whispered to myself, “you know what? I don’t even want to know.”
When we got to the stairs I sighed heavily, anticipating how much effort it would take to climb them. 
Eliot looked at me and could see the dread in my face. “Here, sweetheart, I’ve gotcha.” He bent down and lifted my feet, putting me in a bridal carry and started up the stairs. 
“You don’t have to do that Eliot, don’t tire yourself out for no reason,” I said, but rested my head on his shoulder, feeling oh so tired. 
“I can carry you one flight of stairs, sweetheart, don’t worry about it.”
Another sigh escaped my lips involuntarily, “I’m so tired. I want to take a nap.”
Eliot purposefully jostled me a little bit, “Stay with me, sweetheart. Don’t fall asleep before I get you out of here and see if you have a concussion. It sounded like you hit that wall pretty hard.”
I groaned just remembering that initial pain, “Don’t remind me.”
When we reached the ground floor Eliot gently placed me back on my feet to seem a bit less conspicuous when walking through the building. This floor had a lot of offices and employees milling around. When I was distracting the guards I considered it a hazard, they could have slowed me down trying to not run into them. Now as we carefully walked through, Eliot still supporting much of my weight, the employees provided a bit of cover until we reached a side door to exit into the parking lot and the van. 
Eliot loaded me into the back and sat in front of me as Nate drove off, leaving the company and its guards far behind us. Eliot took a flashlight from Hardison and shined it in my eyes. 
“Your pupils look okay, responding well to light and are the same size,” he said almost distractedly as if talking to himself even though he was addressing me. 
 I simply blinked slowly and watched him think for a moment before he turned back towards me. 
“I’m gonna ask you some questions to test your memory, okay?”
“Okay.”
“What’s your name and birthday?”
I recited it quickly in the same pattern I always did when asked.
“Good,” he praised, “now what building were we just in?”
“Jackass Incorporated,” I replied. I paused before adding on sarcastically, “Oh sorry, I meant Jackson Inc.”
I finally got Eliot to crack a smile, “Glad to hear another confirmation that your sense of humor is intact. Last thing, say the months of the year in reverse order.”
This question took a little more time as I paused every few months to think, making sure I was right. When I finally landed on January I asked, “How’d I do doc?”
His eyebrows furrowed and his nose scrunched slightly, “I’m still nervous that you got a concussion.”
I sighed, “So no nap?”
He smiled grimly, “Not yet.”
The over hour drive home was relatively quiet, but the team kept me awake by talking to me. We finally made it back to Nate’s apartment. Normally we would be celebrating afterwards, but all I wanted to do was go home, and voiced as such. Eliot left no room for argument when he said he would drive me home, still not convinced of my cognitive capabilities. Frankly, I didn’t even want to argue with him, both because it was no use, and I didn’t mind the free ride home. 
He kept talking to me when driving, making sure I stayed awake. We finally pulled up to my place and Eliot insisted that he walk me in. Again, I didn’t put up a fight. 
“Do you have any other injuries that we need to take care of?” he asked once the door closed behind us. 
“It took you this long to ask?” 
He gave me a small glare, “I figured you would have told me if anything hurt more than you could handle, but I’m just double checking.”
I smiled, showing I was kidding, “Uh huh, sure. But no, nothing feels broken, everything seems to be in working order. If anything, mostly bruises.” I patted myself down gently, finding some tender spots, particularly around my ribs where the guard kicked me. Then remembered where my head hit the wall, “Hey Eliot, would you mind checking my scalp? I don’t think I broke skin, but…”
He nodded wordlessly and pulled me towards the couch and sat me down. He sat beside me so I turned away from him so he could see the place where my head hit the wall. He gently started to comb his fingers through my hair. His fingers immediately brushed against the spot where I hit and I flinched.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t feel a cut though,” he whispered to me. Even after checking the area, he continued to card my hair through his fingers. 
It felt even better than I expected and a sigh escaped my lips. My head tilted back as his fingertips explored my scalp beyond the sore spot. My eyes drifted closed and that urge to sleep washed over me again. 
“Can I fall asleep now?” I mumbled, mostly to myself. 
Eliot sighed and stopped his movements, “Yeah, I’ve kept you up for a couple of hours now, you should be okay. I should go and let you sleep.” He started to remove his hand and shifted to stand. 
I turned back around to face him and grabbed his hand, “Stay with me? I hear I’m supposed to be monitored for at least twelve hours for a possible concussion…” My eyes were fixed on our hands being clasped, but I eventually lifted my gaze to his own to find that he was transfixed on me. 
His lips curled into a smile as he shifted, leaning back into the couch, “Yeah, I think I can do that sweetheart.” He gently grabbed my shoulders and pulled me down to lay on his lap. He resumed running his fingers through my hair and across my scalp. 
I grabbed his unoccupied hand and held it to my chest, occasionally squeezing it in gratitude. It didn’t take long for the sounds of our consistent breathing to drift me off to sleep.
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gourmet-trash · 2 years
Text
Okay so hear me out but Rose working on some creative writing assignment or short story that involves a character getting stabbed or cut or whatever. And Corinthian proofreading like, "The lead up is good, but I'm telling you, Rosebud, this just isn't what it's like." "I can't write it the way you described it!" "Well why not? I'm the authority here, aren't I?" Rose throws her hands up. "Because you like stabbing things, and the protagonist doesn't like getting stabbed."
Corinthian clicks all three of his tongues and flips to the next page. "That doesn't excuse a poor description of handling the knife."
"I'm sorry, all right? I just understand better when I'm seeing stuff rather than just hearing about it," Rose says, sighing. She shouldn't have waited so long to start this project. And it's not like her creative writing professor is going to spend this much time fussing over the scene, but now that she's aware it's wrong, it's going to eat at her until she gets a pass from the Corinthian.
Corinthian who, after a moment, lifts his head from the pages he's reviewing. And even with his sunglasses on, Rose has learned to recognize that particular look on his face. This can't be good.
"You know," he says, drawing his words out the way he usually does when he's leading into the kind of suggestion he knows doesn't align with "human moral values" as he's put it on more than one occassion. "If you need a visual and a more first hand account of what getting stabbed feels like..."
"No," Rose says immediately.
"Why not? It's a perfect solution!" Corinthian insists.
"I'm not gonna watch you kill somebody!" Rose says. "...Again."
There's a soft click-click of unseen teeth that Rose associates with Corinthian's version of "rolling your eyes." "I'm not suggesting we kill somebody," he says, "Couldn't if I tried anyway!"
"No," Rose repeats when she realizes what, exactly the Corinthian is suggesting.
"Oh, come on," Corinthian says, waving the heavily marked pages of her story between them. "We could at least ask, right? And he could definitely give you some pointers on writing about being stabbed."
"....Well...that part's probably true," Rose admits slowly. Being able to ask specific questions would also be more useful than a bunch of questionable Google searches.
"So....?" She sighs and gets up from her desk, rolling her eyes at the wide grin Corinthian flashes for it. "Just to ask if he can give me some advice! That's it," she says, pulling in the same firm voice she uses to tell Jed that they absolutely are not having chicken fingers for dinner again.
"You want to stab me for a creative writing assignment?" Professor Gadling repeats slowly.
"No!" Rose says at the same time Corinthian says, "Yeah, that sums it up."
Rose shifts on Professor Gadling's couch so she can kick Corinthian's ankle beside her, feeling vindicated by the echoing hiss of air between teeth. "Well that was uncalled for," he grouses, pointedly proping that ankle up on his knee away from her. Like she can't reach the other one if she wants.
They spend a few moments glowering at each other - Rose trying to decide if she wants to kick him again and Corinthian trying to predict said kick so he can avoid it. They're both interrupted by Professor Gadling setting mugs in front of them and lowering himself into an arm chair.
"Thank you, Professor," Rose insists, reaching out to take hers. "What Corinthian meant to say is that I'm working on a story for class and he doesn't think my action scenes are...authentic enough. I was wondering if you might be willing to proofread a bit? Or give me some advice to make it sound more realistic?"
"On account of you having been stabbed so many of times," Corinthian helpfully adds over the top of his mug. Rose doesn't know a lot about British tea, but she knows there's an absurd amount of milk (and probably sugar) in his judging by the color.
Professor Gadling, thank god, looks more amused than anything else. Rose suspects he's used to a lot of this on account of whatever is going on between him and Corinthian and Uncle Morpheus, but she keeps that particular thought to herself. That's a topic better left for gossping with Matthew.
"That is, unfortunately, true," Professor Gadling agrees. "I'm happy to answer any questions you have."
"Now, Rose, didn't you tell me earlier that you have a hard time understanding something that's just said out loud to you, though?" Corinthian drawls.
"Maybe it's just the way you describe things that's hard," she argues, rolling her eyes again when he lays his fingertips against his chest like a stricken southern belle.
Professor Gadling chuckles into his own tea while he watches them bicker, and after a moment he shrugs and rocks back onto his feet. "All right, come on. We're not doing this so close to the rug and the furniture."
"What?" Rose says, but Professor Gadling is already carrying his tea towards the kitchen, and Corinthian wastes no time abandoning his own mug on the coffee table to follow. Rose curses softly and moves Corinthian's mug onto a coaster before hurrying after them.
"Professor, you really don't have to do this," she insists.
But by then, Professor Gadling has already shrugged out of his cardigan and is considering the shirt underneath. "Probably more helpful to see the blood spread on the fabric, right?"
"Yeah, that would fit the scene better," Corinthian agrees, flipping a knife over his fingers and looking her way. "Right, Rosebud?"
When she doesn't immediately answer, Professor Gadling looks over, and something in her expression must read as more than concerned for his safety, because he walks over and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. If it'll help what you're writing, I really don't mind, Rose. And frankly, if I don't let him stab something now, he's probably going to find something to stab," he jokes with a pointed glance at Corinthian.
Corinthian does not correct him, so he's probably right about that.
Even so, Professor Gadling's expression is soft when he turns back to her." But if it's not something you're going to be comfortable seeing, we also don't have to do this. We can go back to the couch and you can ask questions. I'll try to describe things better than Cor does."
She makes a small, amused sound, but she still feels her brows knitting in together. Was she comfortable seeing this? She hadn't even stopped to consider that, so set as she'd been that this wouldn't be a possibility in the first place. And now that it was, she didn't know if she wanted it to be.
Corinthian leans his hip against the counter beside them and tilts his head. "You like horror movies, Rose?"
She blinks, turning from Professor Gadling's concerned expression to Corinthian's considerably more mild one. "Um...yeah, I do."
"Cause in a horror movie, even if people are getting hurt, you know they're actually okay, right?" he reasons. "The actors walk away right as rain after the credits start rolling."
She frowns slightly but nods.
"Hob does that too. You know he's actually okay and he'll walk away right as rain after all this. Not that different from watching a real good horror movie."
Professor Gadling makes a soft, amused sound, and when Rose glances back at him, he has a wry, affectionate look on his face. "That's...not a bad way of putting it," he agrees. "Even though none of those actors are actually getting stabbed."
"Details," Corinthian scoffs.
"And you're sure you're okay with this Professor?" Rose asks, relaxing a bit when he nods.
"I wouldn't have said yes otherwise. And stab wounds don't take that long to heal. I can even show you when it's healed up if that'll help."
Rose glances between them, Professor Gadling waiting patiently for her to decide what she'd like to do and Corinthian looking like he might jump in and start stabbing at a moment's notice regardless.
Something about the scenario feels a little too familiar. Not for her, of course. But between the two of them. She's starting to think this isn't the first time Professor Gadling has let himself get stabbed, and she's starting to think she doesn't want to look too closely into that.
"....Uncle Morpheus isn't going to like this," she points out, watching the two of them exchange a quiet, but communicative glance.
"Well your Uncle Morpheus doesn't have to know if we hurry up," Corinthian insists, lifting a wrist to check his watch. "We still got some time before he gets back with Jed."
Professor Gadling snorts softly. "We'll worry about Morpheus," he says. "So?"
"....Okay. Okay, yeah, let me just grab my notebook!"
"Attagirl!" Corinthian crows, shaking his knife a bit like one might a trophy they've won. And as soon as she's back, he waves her over to show her the grip he has on the handle so she can jot down notes.
And that's how Rose spends the afternoon in Professor Gadling's kitchen being shown precise knife handling techniques, blood spatter behavior, and getting a first hand account of what being stabbed feels like in real time. All of it turn out to be tremendously helpful in her story edits - she gets Corinthian and Professor Gadling's approval before turning it in. (The former insists she should consider writing more action like this in the future and he's, of course, happy to help with additional research.)
She gets an A. [ next → ]
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flan-tasma · 8 months
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Good night (Genshin men x Reader) English ver.
💖~ These men are busy and may not be with you physically, but they remember you and make sure to be with you when you go to sleep, one way or another.
Si gustas leer la versión en español, puedes hacerlo aquí
Warning: Not here 💖, GN!Reader | Google Translate sponsors me (it's a lie) If I made any mistakes in the english translation, I would be happy to read your comments!
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Tighnari has a bookmark made of your favorite flower. When it is very late at night and his eyes feel tired, he takes time to caress the flower with his fingertips. Her caress is distracted, her tail and ears are lowered, proof of her tiredness. The texture of the bookmark reminds her that you are asleep now, being embraced by the sheets, under a warmth that is not hers. He feels jealous for a moment, jealous of your sleep and jealous of the bed that accompanies you now, and decides it's a good idea to go to sleep.
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Albedo is used to spending all morning with his experiments and notes, but he almost never joins you to sleep. He usually says goodbye after dinner, accompanies you for a while after you finish washing and kisses your cheek when you tell him you are going to sleep, but his presence is not usually with you. If you leave the door open, you can hear the sound of the candle creaking, probably boiling water for more coffee. You can hear heels hitting the ground, leaves passing by, and glass colliding against each other. And one day Albedo may feel sad, that he wished he could be with you longer, and it is at that moment when he enters your room and hugs you. It is always a pleasure to wake up with you in his arms.
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Alhaitham has the habit of reading before going to bed. You can be next to him reading, each one in his respective chair, accompanied by something to drink, he doesn't care, it's good to know that you are there. At some point during the night your voice calls him to tell him that you are going to sleep, and he says goodbye, he waits for you to get into the sheets and continues with his book for a few more minutes. He must get up early to work, close his book while he remembers the things he will do in the morning and chooses to organize everything before accompanying you to sleep.
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Cyno has a great responsibility, and you knew it, that's why it's not unusual to wake up in the early morning to go to the bathroom and notice that he was next to you, even though he hadn't arrived for dinner. You visit it more in the mornings, but at night you will only notice it if in the early morning you feel a new weight on the mattress, arms pulling you in, and a tired man falling asleep next to you. It may be that he has the strength to talk to you a little, he will listen to you and tell you if he has plans to take a day off tomorrow, all while his sleepy voice was lost in your ears, while your partner slept soundly next to you.
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Ayato considers discipline essential to his position as head of the Kamisato clan. His routine is full of work, documents and messages that he must read, analyze, accept or reject, and all of that takes a lot of time, but it is a job that he does meticulously. And even though he always tries to dedicate time to you in the middle of his entire agenda, there are times when you have to go to bed alone, knowing that in his office the man was still reviewing the last documents of the day. He would like to leave them until tomorrow and sleep with you, but the more serious the topic is, the further that idea gets out of his head. And it's not until you finally manage to fall asleep that he finally arrives, laying down next to you and admiring you before dreaming of a new day off, planning to take you on a picnic away from everyone.
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brf-rumortrackinganon · 8 months
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It looks like Meghan may be test-driving yet another narrative to handle the criticism about her failure to royal: it's all Harry's fault.
This started last week when reporters and journalists were speculating whether the Sussexes, had they stayed in, would have been able to help KP squash all the noise about Kate's condition and help BP squash the nosie about the royal family's bench strength by stepping up royal work. Hugo Vickers more or less said "no, because the Sussexes are only in it for themselves. Meghan wouldn't step up unless she personally benefited. She would have seen nothing in it for herself and would refuse to work."
So cue Esther Krakue, who appeared on Sky News Australia today. She agrees with Vickers that the Sussexes wouldn't have stepped up, but says it's because of Harry. Not Meghan. And the way she lays the blame squarely on Harry, she plays to both sides of the royal fence:
For the squaddies, she says "it's Harry's fault Meghan was a terrible royal because he made her start working before she was ready and willing."
For the rest of us, she says "Meghan lacked the temperament to be a proper royal because she wanted to be in charge and it's Harry's fault because he should have prepared her better."
That she speaks to both sides is making it a little harder to see whether this is Meghan setting up for a divorce narrative or whether this is an olive branch PR.
A quick disclaimer. I've no idea where Krakue falls in the royal reporting spectrum (is she a Sussex mouthpiece? Is she a straight-shooting royalist? Or does she go where the paycheck is?)
For me, I come down on "well, this feels like pre-emptive divorce narrative." Mainly because Meghan has been laying groundwork since 2017 for a domestic violence-based divorce narrative and "Harry forced Meghan to work" not only plays into that, it also implies he threatened Meghan.
Anyway. Here's the story.
And by the way, did you know this is the 11th time Meghan has tried to rewrite the story of her royal career? Let's review them!
#1. While they were dating/pre-engaged (2016 - late 2017): I’ll be the bestest duchess to duchess, better than Kate.
#2. While they were engaged (late 2017 - mid-2018): I’m going to hit the ground running and everyone will be so impressed The Queen will make me her heir.
#3. While “in” for 72 days (mid-2018 - late 2019): I’m only supporting my preferred charities and best friends, how dare you *coat flick*
#4. While Megxiting (late 2019 - March 2020): I don’t need the royals to do good work. They’re old-fashioned anyway. Watch me hit the ground running and being the bestest duchess to duchess.
#5. During the pandemic (March 2020 - March 2021): I’m not bound by the code of ethics the royals are so I can volunteer and support my most passionate causes, politics and political issues.
#6. While sobbing to Oprah (March 2020 - late 2021): I can’t do anything because Waity Katie gets all the help, attention, and money. I’m just a young black mother.
Next, Meghan loses control of the narrative as everyone shows up for the BRF after the Oprah interview, and even more so after Philip passes away. This collective effort establishes the narrative of Meghan's royal career as actually scornful "I should be getting paid for this" contempt (as summed up by Bower in 2021's Revenge). Meghan tries some things to backtrack over this but she just digs herself in deeper and deeper, leading to three competing narratives over Meghan's work--
a) “No one from the palace helped us, we had to do it all on our own because William and Kate were jealous and refused to let anyone help us.” (Sussexes)
b) “It’s your own fault. Harry should have better prepared you for the realities of royal life and actually, HERE ARE THE RECEIPTS, WE DID TRY TO HELP but you wanted your LA teams to do it instead.” (BRF and Royal Rota)
c) “She never wanted to work, she just wanted the fame and fortune, come on you people, it's so [bleeping] obvious." (The public and most royal watchers)
This lasts until the end of 2021 when Sunshine Sachs/Netflix/Spotify finally dig Meghan out through a few rounds of Olive Branch PR and Jubilee and Hollywood manifestations, leading to...
#8. While finally launching her Megxit career (end of 2021 to September 2022, The Queen’s passing): I’m finally doing the work I was promised I could do by the royal family. Look at what you could've had.
#9. After The Queen’s passing (October 2022 to end of 2022): I just wanted to work but they wouldn't let me do anything because they're jealous.
#10. During the Charles era (2023): I couldn’t do anything because the royals are racist.
And now, #11. Royal Health Crisis (January 2024): I never wanted to be a working royal, Harry made me and he didn’t prepare me appropriately.
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