Tumgik
#I SWORE I MADE THE EDIT private
ashwhowrites · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Hi! I wrote some in my drafts then it wouldn't let me edit so I had to screenshot the request and start over! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3
Hideout jealousy
Tumblr media
Y/N knew she screwed up when she landed underneath her best friend. She got a taste of his lips and now craves it constantly. His body against hers, her name on his lips, and the feeling of him inside of her. But both still called it a friendship. But do friends hook up with each other all the time? She didn't do this with any of her other friends. She wasn't sure what to call them. Friends with benefits sounded too harsh like they barely knew each other. They were best friends, so best friends with benefits?
In many ways, she regretted having sex with him the first time. It haunts her dreams and mind. He's right there all the time and she can't escape him. She saw him as a friend but now he has this glow to him. He has this pull that drags her in flat on her face. She was obsessed with how she felt with him.
Turns out she was more obsessed than she thought. She swore she could feel a fire inside her body as she watched a girl flirt with Eddie. Her bright smile and soft touch on his arm. Y/N clenched the glass in her hand, her ears ringing from Eddie's show just before. A show she was front row for, screaming and cheering for the band. Then Eddie was whisked away, and he hasn't looked back since.
She hated how much she cared, and that the sight of Eddie with another girl made her want to claim him. Claim him right there in the middle of the room. Y/N threw on a smile when Eddie turned around and gave her a small nod. Y/N tried to make it seem like she wasn't glaring holes into the girl's head. She held her breath as Eddie walked over to her.
"Ready to go?" Eddie asked, his hand reaching out. Y/N grasped it and held on to it tightly. They walked passed the girl, and Eddie barely made eye contact with her. Y/N smirked as they walked past. Yeah, she was jealous. But Eddie was ending his night in her bed.
~~~
On the drive home, Eddie felt like something was wrong. Y/N was biting his ear, and his neck, and palming him through his jeans the whole drive. Eddie melted and loved it, but it wasn't like her. She liked it private and soft. But the way she handled him was something else.
Once they made it into her house, her clothes were off and she was eagerly trying to tear his clothes off. His gentle hands stopped her, a worried look in his eyes.
"what's wrong?" She hated how concerned he sounded. She didn't want her emotions to be written on her sleeve.
"Nothing, why?" She asked, her lips on his neck as she tried to get her hands free. But Eddie didn't budge. He dropped her hands, just to cup her face. She tried to get her head out of his hands but he wouldn't move. He kept his hands on her, not hard enough to hurt her but enough that she couldn't wiggle free. She huffed as he kept delaying.
"look are we gonna have sex or not?" She snapped. If he planned to dodge all her touches, she wasn't going to bother.
"Not when you are upset like this," Eddie said sternly. "Tell me what's wrong. Talk to me." He said gently. He released her face, grabbed her hand, and walked them to the couch. She sat beside him, his hands holding hers. She wasn't sure if it was for comfort or to keep her hands off of him.
"I'm not even upset!" She argued.
"Jealous, maybe?" He asked trying to keep the smile off his face. He knew smiling about the situation would make it worse, but he couldn't help but love the ownership she wanted over him. He'd be lying if he said he never thought of their little fling becoming way more.
She felt her blood run cold. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he already knew she was. He wanted her to admit it. She puffed out her cheeks and shook her head.
"jealous? Of what!" She faked and laughed. She tried to keep a straight poker face. Deny, deny, deny.
"The girl, her flirting. Her thinking she even has a chance to make me turn my head."
"Head sure looked turned to me." She snapped. This time Eddie did smile.
"There it is." He sang, a cheeky smile on his face. "It's okay to be jealous."
"I'm not! I just think we hang out, we have sex. Two things you do in a relationship so why is she needed?" Y/N said, shrugging her shoulders.
"She's not needed." Eddie clarified. He turned her head to look at him. He slowly leaned in. She felt her eyes closing and butterflies in her stomach as she leaned into him. "Just need you." He whispered then his lips landed on hers.
She whimpered as his tongue slipped inside her mouth. The kiss she's been craving since the bar. Her hands were free as he let go. His hands moved down to her thighs, his strong hands gripping the skin as she moaned. Her hands dove into his hair, tangling in his curls.
"I love you." He said against her lips. Her eyes shot open, his brown eyes already looking into hers. "Way more than a friend and I want more than sex."
Y/N couldn't keep the smile off her face. Words she dreamed he'd say.
"I love you, I want that too." Her smile pressed against his as he deepened the kiss. Her back against the couch as he pushed her. His body was on hers as his hands moved up her body, underneath her shirt. She shivered as his rings grazed against her skin. The coldness of the metal made her stomach flip.
She moaned as his hands moved behind her to unhook her bra. He's done this countless times but this time felt so different. She felt like it was the first time she ever felt him all over again.
She moaned as he moved fast. Her bra and shirt were gone as his hands twisted her sensitive nipples, the feeling of his warm tongue teasing the bud.
~~~
Lost in the feeling of their bodies intertwined. The gentle and slow thrust of Eddie's hips against hers. Her nails scratched down his back, her legs tight around his waist. She was warm and tight around him, Eddie shivered at the way she clenched around him. She could feel the wetness between her thighs and she loved the way his pubic hair scratched against her.
Then he hit that one spot that sent a tingle up her spine. She wasn't in control of her body anymore. Something inside her snapped as she arched her back. The screams released from her lungs as his name fell off her lips like a prayer. His cock pulsed as she cried out. Tears spilling from her eyes as she grabbed his ass to keep him inside of her. She silenced herself by biting down on his shoulder. The pain and sting made Eddie's eyes roll in the back of his head. He felt her cum make a mess everywhere, and he quickly pulled out of her. He jerked his cock off in the direction of her stomach. He painted her stomach and cunt in his cum as he panted. She tried to hold open her heavy eyes to watch. The way his stomach clenched, teeth down on his bottom lip. His hair stuck to his forehead as he cussed and pumped himself more. He wanted to leave himself empty and leave it all to her.
The sight of her heaving and sweaty body covered in his cum made his balls feel heavy all over again. Almost like if he tried hard enough, he could cover her again.
He watched as her hand smoothed down her body, her fingers smearing his cum further into her skin. He felt himself drooling as she trailed her fingers up to her mouth and sucked them clean.
"Fuck, you are something else, baby." He smirked, and he leaned down to plant a wet kiss on her forehead. She giggled and quickly wrapped her arms around him. Crashing his body down onto hers.
"Now I'm covered in my cum." Eddie groaned
"whoops." She shrugged, a big smile on her face.
"Love you," he said, rubbing his nose against hers.
"Good. Tell the slut at the bar too."
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37
929 notes · View notes
sin-and-punishment · 3 months
Text
Worthy Of It All ~ | Haitani Ran x f!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ran takes you jewelry shopping for something just as beautiful as you are.
content: fluff, bonten!Ran, f!reader, established relationship, power imbalance? (Ran is rich and spoils you), talks of engagement, pet names (pretty, beautiful, princess, baby).
word count: 2.1k
auth note: i am so sorry for this very self indulgent piece of therapy. i spit it out in one day and let it sit in my drafts because i thought it sucked. but here i am posting it for y'all. not proofed or edited really. i hope you like a sickeningly sweet loverboy Ran because i sure do. 😔
Tumblr media
There were some things you just couldn’t get used to with Ran Haitani even after being with him for nearly two months. His propensity to spend an alarming amount of money was one of them, and a big one too. You’ve never really had the means to splurge very much in your life, and buying things for yourself eventually made you feel guilty. You took care of what you needed first, and any funds that were left went to a savings account that you swore you wouldn’t touch unless for emergencies. This is how it’s always been with you.
And Ran Haitani had to go and turn that all upside down.
“C’mon, pretty, go get ready. I’m taking you somewhere today,” he smiled into your hair as you rinsed your coffee mug in the sink, the coffee mug from your apartment that you begged Ran to keep here for you even though he said it was ugly. But it’s your favorite one, and a small reminder of your life before all of his luxury and shiny things. 
There was no use asking him where you’d be going, he always left it to surprise. But you were at least given the level of sophistication of the establishment to dress appropriately.
Ran gave you an entire third of his walk-in closet last month, and subsequently filled it with things for you to wear. You had heard of some of the designers on the tags, and never once dreamed that you would don or could pull off such things. But Ran was so good at making you feel confident in everything you’ve tried on and allowed him to buy for you. 
You slipped on the Saint-Laurent dress he just bought you two days ago. The price tag made you sick the moment you looked at it, but he wasn’t letting you leave without it after you came out of that dressing room. The telling look in his eyes as he trailed his hands up your sides said it all, and you couldn’t lie and say it didn’t make you smile to see his reaction.
It was a fairly simple dress, despite the deep neckline, and a comfortable soft knit, so maybe you could just pretend it didn’t cost more than your monthly rent (which Ran was paying for now anyway)…
You zipped into some knee high leather boots, some Italian brand you couldn’t dare try to pronounce, and did a once over in the mirror. You did look nice, but you still grappled with feeling like this was too much, too different. Now, it didn’t feel like Ran Haitani was trying to change you or mold you into something you weren’t, so why did it still make you feel strange?
You exited the bedroom to find him waiting on the couch, texting on his phone until he noticed you in his peripherals. He stood, clad in one of his dashing tailor-made suits, and took the few strides of his long legs to reach you. 
He smiled, lacing his fingers at the back of your neck to pull you in for a sweet kiss to your forehead. “Beautiful.”
He helped you into your coat and together you descended the elevator from his penthouse to the private garage where his black Lotus was parked, sticking out like a sore thumb. A flashy car for a flashy man, you supposed. 
He always left one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh, every time, everywhere you went. His ringed fingers would trace circles against your skin, gently squeeze the flesh that he cherished daily. Ran Haitani is so good to you, too good.
His car swings the corner behind a building, out of sight from normal civilians, and Ran escorts you through a door at the back of the façade guarded by security. These types of entrances didn’t alarm you anymore, it was all too understandable being that he was part of the criminal underground.
With a hand on the small of your back, Ran guides you down the hallway that opened into a room that you quickly came to realize was a jewelry store. Cases and displays of sparkling and dazzling things stared back at you as you paused to admire the millions, no billions, worth of fine baubles. There was no one else present except for you two. 
“Welcome back, Mr. Haitani,” you hear a voice say, and notice a well-dressed man to your right, most likely the owner of the business.
“Go pick something out, pretty,” Ran whispers in your ear. You whip your head around faster than the snap of a finger.
“Wait— what?”
“Now I know you heard me,” he chuckles.
“I…But…” You stammered a bit, not expecting to have been brought to a diamond mine to choose something for yourself. You look around the room again, starting to feel overwhelmed and out of place.
Ran’s hand at your back rubbed small comforting circles into your tensed muscles. You were always so hesitant about anything that involved Ran’s money. But the truth of it was that Ran didn’t see a price on spoiling you, there was no ceiling, no limit. He loved you that much.
He moved his hands to your sides, just like he did the first time you wore this pretty dress for him, and gently guided you closer to the display case that the other man in the room was standing in front of. Everything inside shined in greeting, reflecting their sparkle onto your skin.
“Do you know your preferred taste, Missus?” the nameless male asks you with a gentle smile.
Your eyes dart around the large case, aimlessly really, unsure of what he was even asking you. All of the rings and bracelets and earrings were gorgeous.
Ran leans on the glass with an elbow and points down at one of the velvet trays. “How about you try some on?”
As if it were a command, the jeweler opened the case with a key, pulling out some of the prettiest rings you’ve ever seen, set with the brightest and clearest diamonds you’ve ever seen. If you had to guess where all the best diamonds in the world went, it would be in this very room. 
“Might I suggest,” the kind man chimed in, gently taking one of the rings from its pillowy home and holding it out to you, “something like this?”
You hesitantly take the small circlet, inspecting it closer, watching it shimmer and shine effortlessly. You could feel Ran’s eyes on you, so you surrender to humoring him, slipping the ring onto your finger.
“A beautiful one carat princess cut, 14K white gold band lined with round diamonds,” the man continued as you held out your hand and moved it about in awe. 
“Princess cut for my princess, hm?” Ran smiled fondly at the ring before shifting his lavender eyes up to you. “Very pretty.”
“Perfect for an engagement,” you hear the jeweler say, and your heart sinks to your ass.
“A… what?! No, we’re not— it’s not like that!” You blurt out, your face reaching a heat you don’t think you’ve ever felt before. 
“C’mon, baby, you make it sound like a bad idea,” Ran jests.
“Ran?!” you exclaim. 
You’re met with a jolly laugh from your boyfriend, followed by a chaste kiss to your temple. “Kidding, I’m kidding. Fine, no rings just yet.”
You hastily pull the ring off your finger and hand it back to the jeweler with an exasperated sigh. Scaring you like that wasn’t very funny. 
Suddenly, your hear Ran’s cell phone ring, and he pulls it from his back pocket, glancing at the caller ID. 
“Mikey. Continue without me, ‘kay?” He glides his hand across your waist as he walks off toward the door you entered from, raising the phone to his ear. 
You watch him leave the room, wondering what the call might be about but knowing full well he keeps you separated from his criminal activity as much as possible. ‘For your safety,’ he says. 
The only thing you had to distract you from your worries were the many pieces of jewelry staring back at you. You abandoned the tray of rings and stepped down the line of displays to look at what else was here. 
The room was so quiet being the only shopper in the whole facility. Every click of your boots echoed against the walls, and you could faintly hear Ran’s conversation a ways off but didn’t pry to listen. 
Your eyes wandered for several minutes until you stopped at one particular showcase. A delicate chain necklace with a beautiful round diamond hanging from it caught your eye. You leaned closer to the glass to try and get a better look until the kind jeweler made his way over to pull it out. 
Once on top of the case, you could see it better— the pendant was so perfect, a small ring of tiny diamonds around the large one, facets upon facets glimmering in the overhead lights. It was stunning. 
“Feel free to try it on, Miss,” the man said encouragingly. You picked up the thin chain carefully, fussing with the clasp for a moment before getting it secured around your neck. The jeweler fetched a mirror from behind the case to allow you to see it yourself. 
And it was so pretty. You’ve never worn anything quite as dazzling and special. You wanted to say it looked out of place hanging from your neck but… the more moments that went by the more you got used to it being there. You smiled for the first time since you walked in the door. 
“What’d you find, baby?” Ran’s voice suddenly pulled you out of the small trance you were in. He was reapproaching you, now finished with his phone call, and you turned to show him. 
He smiled just as you had, picking up the diamond from your chest to lay in his hand. “Mmm, I like this one. You?”
A few quick nods indicated to him that yes, you did actually like this one. And what made it better was that look in his eye, the one he always gave you, the look that made you feel like the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 
“She has good taste, sir. A fine choice for the lady,” the man behind the glass added. 
“Ya hear that? You have good taste,” Ran teased with a wink. You responded with only a playful roll of your eyes. 
“Ya got anything that matches that?” he asked the man. 
“There is a bracelet that it pairs with, sir.”
“Great,” Ran reaches for his wallet and hands him a black card. “Add that, too.”
“Ran!” You begin to protest, but it was no use. The jeweler was already walking away to process the payment. 
Your tall, handsome, dangerous boyfriend chuckled at your distress. “I thought you’d be used to this by now, baby.”
You furrow your brow slightly and look at your feet. “I just… don’t understand what I’ve done to deserve all of these things, Ran.”
He raises his brows slightly. “Do you want me to tell you?”
His slender fingers reach to tilt your chin back up to look him directly in the face. When you reached his gaze, Ran’s expression was something indescribable, but it made your heart pound in your chest, right against the diamond that was now resting on it. 
“Because you don’t ask for it,” he said almost too simply. 
You cheeks started to feel hot under his stare, a small noise falling from your lips. 
“I’m still not worthy of this…”
“You’re worthy of everything, baby. All of it.” 
Ran leaned in and kissed you, deep and dizzying. For a moment, with your lips locked together… you believed what he said.
“Let’s get you home,” he breathed out upon pulling away, a dirty grin on his face. “I wanna see you with nothing but that pretty necklace on—”
“Ran! Honestly!” You playfully smack his chest, embarrassed that the jeweler had already started making his way back over to the two of you as he spoke. 
The man handed you a small bag that contained the bracelet that was added, and the black card to Ran’s hand . “A pleasure as always, Mr. Haitani. I look forward to your next visit.”
“Me too, hopefully for that ring, yeah baby?” Ran asks you playfully. 
You failed to retort back, only sigh at how persistent your boyfriend was at buying you more pretty things. 
Tumblr media
© sin-and-punishment 2023 | do not steal, copy, or translate any of my written works. | part of the @enchantedforest-network 🌿 manga panel source: museru kurai no ai wo ageru
789 notes · View notes
floram-creative · 1 year
Text
Making TWST Boys a Pink sweater
Characters- Cater Diamond, Jamil Viper, Jack Howl, Malleus Draconia
Gn! Reader
TWs: None :)
Written by: Bearam <3
Edited by: Evershade :)
Hello everyone! So sorry it took so long for us to post again. We had finals and other school things that took priority but I am pleased to say that we will (hopefully) be able to post more :) Hope you enjoy this one <3
Cater
Cater was extremely happy that you made him a sweater and decided to wear it around campus the very next day. Trey teased him endlessly over the choice of color, the sweater being a cute pastel pink. However, your boyfriend was quick to come up with a rebuttal, insisting that, “You’re just jealous I have a lover and you don’t.” Plus, he looked great. Just then, Cater saw you in the halls. “I’ll be right back” he whispered to Trey, sneakily pointing toward you. Leaving Trey, Cater snuck up from behind, and pounced onto you. “Hey beautiful! Whatcha doing~?” You quickly spun around to see him when you noticed the sweater. “Hey! It fits!” You announced, admittedly surprised. “Mhm! Like a glove” he answered, patting your head.
You examined your work. “Oh, look. I messed up here…” You pointed to a portion of the sweater on the sleeve. You offered to fix it, but Cater refused instantly. Holding your face close to his, to the point where your noses were touching, he looked straight into your eyes. “It’s perfect just the way it is,” he grinned, and kissed your nose, forehead and cheeks persistently. You laughed, struggling to get away from the attacks of affection. Fortunately, you were saved when Trey came up behind Cater, clearing his throat and pointing toward their class at the end of the hall, signaling that it was probably best for them to get going. Cater frowned, but let you go. “I’ll see you later!” he called out. You watched as both Trey and Cater waved goodbye as they headed to class.
Jamil
Jamil knew that you were plotting something beforehand, but was still surprised when you had handed him the sweater sheepishly. He hadn’t planned on wearing it around, but found himself doing so the very next day. Although Pink wasn’t exactly your boyfriend’s first choice, it was admittedly comfortable. Kalim swore that he looked cute, but Jamil couldn’t tell if he was teasing him or not. That’s when he saw you in the halls. Telling Kalim to go without him, he snuck up on you from behind, eventually teasing you with a soft “boo” right by your ear. Of course, you were startled, but you chuckled when you saw the fuzzy pink sleeves hugging your waist. Chuckling, you turned to see his face.“Glad to see you like it” you simply stated. He stared blankly into your eyes, as if he was at a loss for words, until finally explaining, “Well of course I like it, it's quite comfortable.” He smiled slightly.
But eventually, Jamil worked to cover his face in the rook of your neck. Confused by this reaction, you questioned, “If you don’t like the color, I can make you a Red one if that would make you more comfortable.” He shook his head in disagreement. “It’s not that, It’s what I’m about to do” he mumbled. He kissed your neck then your hands; afterwards, he refused to look at your face. Although in a private space he could do such things with confidence, he was rather hesitant when it came to PDA. so this event had you thoroughly startled from the very beginning. “Thank you for making it. It really does mean a lot,” he murmured softly.
Suddenly, the bell rang and Jamil saw Kalim at the very end of the hall, concerned Jamil wouldn’t make it to class on time. Jamil sighed and before striding over to class, he whispered into your ear once more, “I’ll see you later darling.” You stood in wonder for several seconds until you finally snapped out of it, joyfully skipping away to class.
Jack
Pink was, needless to say, the last color you would expect to find Jack in. Both Leona and Ruggie were confused when they saw him wearing it, but decided it was better to leave it be. But, they did have to agree that the new look suited him.
The sweater you made fit him perfectly. You made it as a joke, but you had no heart to say you had a separate sweater in a mustard color when he showed off the sweater to you in the halls the next day, wagging his tail. “I am so lucky to have such a handsome boyfriend,” you said softly. This only got him going more. “You really think so?” He stated joyfully. “Of course sweetheart!” you laughed. “I’m glad you like it!”
Delighted by your flattery, Jack scooped you up into his arms, allowing you to gain access to his ears. You rubbed them with your fingers, not because he liked it, but more so because you did. “You know, I have a lot of this mustardy yarn so I’ll make another sweater for you when I have the time.” He kissed your chin. “That sounds perfect! Except,” he paused, “You should make one for yourself too so that we can match!” This brought a slight smile to your face. “I can definitely make that happen.”
In the following weeks, you knit yourself a sweater in the nice yellow color, smiling at the thought of the two of you in matching yellow sweaters.
Malleus
A giant boyfriend calls for a giant sweater, and well, the most yarn you had of a single color was pink so, that is what he got. Malleus smiled from ear to ear when you handed him the sweater. You had expected to see him wear it around when the two of you were alone, so you were understandably surprised to see him wearing it the very next day. Although everyone thought it was strange, no one dared to confront him about it.
“There’s the love of my life” Malleus teased as he scooped you up into his arms, spinning. You giggled, seeing your intimidating boyfriend in such a cute color. You lifted your arms to play with his horns and remarked, “You look cute today”. He looked at you like a puppy that had just been given a treat. “Why thank you,” he smiled.
From the higher position that was Malleus’s arms, you noticed the giant tear on the shoulder portion of the sweater. “Tight fit?” You questioned, pointing to the tear. “Ah well,” Malleus paused, “It fits fine, it's just my horns got caught.” You examined the tear carefully. “I should be able to fix it just fine.” Malleus smiled warmly and again spun around with you in his arm, and nuzzled your nose with his. “Thank goodness,let’s go do that now!” Startled, you try desperately to get away. “Malleus, I have to go to class!” He laughed, “Don’t worry, I’ll explain to the headmaster personally.” You sighed. There was no getting away from this one.
430 notes · View notes
bugs1nmybrain · 4 months
Text
Give Your Heart a Break - Chapter 2 Tomura Shigaraki x reader series
Tumblr media
You can find chapter one here
Notes: So I want to clarify that in this fic, a major theme about Tomura's story is that he suffers from a lot of untreated mental illness. I'm representing him as someone who's undiagnosed Bipolar, but also experiences symptoms that boarder schizophrenia, such as the voices he hears and he'll eventually have a psychotic episode at some point in this story. I know this feeds the "Bipolar and psychotic people are evil" stereotype, but I have these mental illnesses and see Shigaraki as someone who could very much have untreated Bipolar disorder (type 1 specifically), regardless. Most anime characters aren't written to be bipolar lol but I have a list of reasons why I think he has the potential to be. Maybe I'll make a post about it someday.
Summary: Tomura is so goshdarn determined to find his lil gamestop crush and thanks to him conveniently seeing her debit card he casually stalks her on the internet
Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact, cliffhanger, mildly dark content, internet stalking, creepy Tomura, Tomura and y/n only talk over the internet in this chapter, i wrote Tomura's thoughts but it's not from his direct POV. They are highlighted in blue, like in chapter 1 Tomura hears voices and sometimes they can be nasty - they are highlighted in red, soft Shigaraki, very scott pilgrim kind of humor, edgy and derogatory humor at one point (used ironically to mock people who say them seriously), Tomura has his English dub's voice (pre Paranormal Liberation Front), not proofread yet, I wrote this while I was stoned af
Notes About Reader:
everything from chapter 1 applies
she/her pronouns
relatively active on social media but makes content private
reader is a WEIRDO
I made the reader's username mine lol
As said, she's very based off of me
reader experiences unspecified mental illness and has been to a psych ward in her past
she laughs very easily
"*your full legal name*"
Tomura considered the possibility that you may have been using someone else's card or that you didn't go by your legal name, but he was sure it was a decent place to start. His heart was racing so hard to find out who you were. He wasn't sure what struck a chord in him when he saw you. He supposed it was cuz you're pretty, but he really didn't know anything about you other than you're spooky, you like anime, and you like his hair.
He immediately started searching for your name on his phone. It wasn't hard to find your Facebook, though your privacy settings didn't let him see much other than profile pictures. You seemed somewhat outgoing from they pictures you posted. There was a directory about you online, and he guessed it was you based on your age and location (he saw your location on FB lol). Now he knew your address..
the internet is so nice to him sometimes :)
It took him a little bit of digging but he found your other socials outside of Facebook. All private, though. Fuuuck.
Fuck it, follow.
Tomura never showed his face on his socials and never ever ever put his name. You wouldn't know it was him.
"But now she has to approve it :("
*bugsinmybrain accepted your follow request*
:)))))
Tomura swore that he felt as if he had unlocked a fucking treasure chest. You were so very flashy, that's for sure. A lot of pictures of you, decorated with some cute stickers that were edited in, or surrounded by anime dudes.
"Tenko"
"Fuck off."
From what he could tell, you were a geek. Very nerdy and interested in things, though that wasn't a bother to Tomura. He was a fan of a lot of shit. You were also very pretty. He then stumbled on some posts you'd made about heroes. How you thought their system was corrupted and that they'd neglect people and dismiss those who they thought were worth sacrificing. Mmm, you're speaking his language. You didn't appear to be any kind of villain, you couldn't be so outgoing on the internet if you were, but you were certainly feisty.
He wanted to message you. He knew it would be weird and he didn't want to creep you out, but god he wanted to talk to you. He wanted to know more about you. To be honest, he really wanted you to give him your undivided feminine attention. When you spoke with him at GameStop he felt warm. Love at first sight? Possibly. Is he that much of a fool?
His social anxiety made him almost want to watch you outside your window before messaging you online anonymously. rrr.
"whatever."
him: hey, do you remember the blue haired guy from GameStop?
you didn't answer for two hours.
Tomura tried to not care if you responded or not but he was boiling hot and itching anxiously, wondering if you had actively ignored him. But you didn't unfollow or block him, he checked many times.
her: omg yea
!!!
him: is your name (y/n)? that's what your card said. sorry thats creepy af but i kinda wanted to talk to you so I looked you up.
He wasn't even attempting to not be a stalker at this point. What else was he supposed to say? There's no way to cover the fact that he has a crush on you or something.
her: yea that's me. i noticed you peaked at my name so it's ok lol. what's your name?
"fuck"
he wasn't supposed to say anything like that online. He's a piece of shit, yea, but a part of Tomura didn't want to lie.
"Tenko"
That's a name he heard often. For the last couple of years he began experiencing frequent auditory hallucinations. Hearing "Tenko" was one of them. Sometimes they'd tell him to stop or scream at him or strangely enough, they'd be calm and nurturing to him. It drove him crazy sometimes.
Whatever.
him: Tenko
her: why did you want to talk to me?
him: that's an awkward question
her: why?
him: i guess it's not. you look cool and said shit about hating heroes. is that a good enough reason?
her: LMAO
i suppose
him: do you play any video games? I saw you go to the anime section...
her: i play but i'm not very good at any of them
"of course she isn't"
him: what games do you play?
her: league of legends
him: omg are you kidding me?
her: no
him: do you wanna play with me? like. right now?
her: sure??
score.
You were trash at league. But somehow it was charming seeing you try your best, though your efforts were very frugal. Normally seeing someone so bad in his game would make Tomura pissed but he gave you a pass. At the moment, he was more worried about getting to know you than the game itself. So he tried all he could to get you to talk, he loved your voice.
"I'm going to assume you're very new to this?"
"Yea."
"How new?"
"I've been playing for maybe 3 months."
"That long and you're still shit?"
"I know I suck," you say defensively. As if you could hear the things in his head.
"You kind of do, not going to lie."
It wasn't long after that you got essentially gangbanged by three enemy players with no attacks given back.
"FUCK"
The loud cussing in his headphones made Tomura jump, but he couldn't help but start to chuckle violently.
"Feisty bitch ain't she?"
"She wants to suck your cock."
"Shut up..." Tomura growled under his breath.
"Did you just tell me to shut up??" You ask, though chuckling while you did.
"What? No, no. Sometimes I just have really bad thoughts that come out of nowhere. I have to like.."
"Tell them to be quiet?"
"yup."
"I've done that. Like actually, though. I'll just start thinking of the most wacked out thing, and it comes out of no where. Sometimes I knock on my head to get rid of them, hah."
I guess a spooky looking gal like you being mentally ill wasn't a surprise to him. Your ability to relate to his situation was still comforting, though. Especially because he almost expected you to get uncomfortable when he told you about having "bad thoughts." Some girls may think a freaky looking dude like him having "bad thoughts" meant that he was some homicidal villain.
oh wait
"Really? I've had it happen to me all my life, but for the last two years I've like...heard voices, I guess? Sometimes the thoughts aren't even thoughts, they just happen. And I'll hear them, in voices that aren't mine. Also forget all of that, I'm normal and you're very bad at league."
The giggle that erupted from you shot an infestation of butterflies inside his chest. You seemed to think he was very funny, which is something that frankly turned him on. Throughout your call he was able to make you snicker from saying the dumbest shit. He prayed you weren't just faking it.
"It's ok. You'd be surprised how common that is. Doesn't make it any easier though, I'll say that," you reply, hoping to ease his nerves. You could tell even over voice call that while he spoke very easily about his hallucinations, he had a level of shame for them.
"No. It doesn't. Who made you a psychiatrist, anyways?"
"My six stays at the psych ward maybe," you retort.
"sexy."
"Excuse me, Tenko?"
Oh right. That's his name right now. Fuck, he wanted to see you in person. He felt like he'd be able to be more of an open book that way. He'd still need a story though, fake name or not. You probably thought you were just talking to some geeky gamer boy with blue hair and possible schizophrenia, but little did you know, you were talking to a facilitator of multiple acts of mid-level terrorism. Hey, but if it was all in the name of "Fuck Heroes" maybe you'd still laugh at his jokes.
"Sorry that wasn't very feminism of me was it?"
"No, it wasn't" you said as you wheezed in laughter.
"You like my edgelord jokes, don't you?"
You kept laughing, now somehow he had pulled a couple of snorts out of you too.
"fat pig."
"Want to take a trip to 2016? I bet Leafy would love to make fun of autistic 12 year old's with you."
He swore that you were probably crying from how hard you were laughing. He wished he could see you on camera right now, but hearing you blow out his ear drums with your annoying yet adorable little laugh was good enough for now.
"Am I going to have to come resuscitate you?" Tomura cackles, now feeling himself starting to laugh.
"Your voice is cute," you beam at him.
"Liar."
"I'm not!"
"Someone once told me I sound like I'm a prison bitch cuz of how hoarse my throat is."
"wow."
"Done with the jokes, got it."
"I know, right?"
"I just think it's cute, you're very expressive."
Tumblr media
*this is Tomura right, now by the way*
"Does that mean that uh..you think I'm cute?" he pesters with the widest smile on his face, though you couldn't see.
*que jeopardy music*
Goodness, you certainly had a girlish charm with the way your mellow voice would start chirping with laughter. He didn't think flirting should've been this easy, but you were very impressionable.
"Is it ok to say yes?" you asked sheepishly over call.
"Ehehehe~!!!" Tomura squealed, mocking your giggles.
"Shut up!"
"Am I going to have to come and rescue you? You sound like you're running out of air," he asked almost genuinely, as he held back a cough.
"Do it, pussy, you won't."
"Oh really?"
"Uh-huh."
"Would you be mad at me if I told you I know where you live?"
"Excuse me?"
"Not my fault. Blame yourself for being an on-the-grid person. The internet is dangerous, didn't you know?"
"Are we officially stalker-stalkee now?" you joked.
"Yea but my hair is blue and my voice is cute so it's ok if I stalk you, right?"
"Oh my fucking god."
"So, can I come see you?"
"Huh?"
"In person. I could be there in like half an hour. You live near me."
"Tenko, it's 10pm."
"Would you get in trouble? Do you live with parents or something?"
"Yea."
"I could pick you up and we could walk back to my place."
Now, dear readers, would you accept such an offer from a complete stranger at almost midnight, absolutely alone with him? After he has admitted to lowkey stalking you? You shouldn't!
However, we, the reader, are ignorant to common sense when we receive the slightest crumb of positive (?) male attention.
"Sure."
"teeheehee!!" Tomura teases. "Keep your eyes pealed, then. Thirty minutes, okay?"
"omg i guess."
"omg ok, what kind of energy drink do you like?"
62 notes · View notes
ravencincaide · 1 month
Text
Your Nervous Weretiger 
Summary: Your waretiger was nervous and it was your job to reassure him. OR what happens moments before you have to leave on a mission right around Valentine's time?
Pairing: Reader x Atsushi Nakajima
Part of: Short fics (Valentine edition)
Enjoy~
Tumblr media
Your little weretiger was nervous. 
You could tell by the way he fidgeted at his desk; pretended to look at the computer without clicking or changing anything. Then, almost absentmindedly, his purple-yellow eyes flickered towards you where they’d linger. You could feel the intensity of his gaze as his eyes run you up and down; the way they lingered on the hilt of your gun or the pouch full of bullets and other emergency supplies.  
You could practically hear him rattle up in his head all your typical mission supplies, checked and re-reched whether you had everything with you. An energy bar? Water? Tea? 
You found it adorable how much he worried. 
Yet as you met his gaze with a reassuring smile, Atsushi’s eyes would widen. His expression screamed that he hadn’t noticed his own staring, then his face dusted a light pink shade.  He’d duck his head down so only the very top light grey strands would be visible and fake-work again. His fingers nervously flickered through the files on his desk. His body language screamed ‘working’; he was working. He swore he was.  
“ Ready to go?” You tore your gaze away from Atsuhi and you turned to face your partner in crime for the mission. 
“ Almost,” you replied with a smile “ Give me five?” 
You saw Dazai frown then flicker his attention to Atsushi then back to you. A knowing look on his face- a lewd grin which seemed to encourage you  “ See ya in the car~” 
You knew you had better chances of finding him in the nearby cafe OR bar. 
Still you waved him off before you slowly and quietly made your way towards Atsushi. The very nervous Atsushi who firmly stared at a half empty piece of paper in his hands, his mind so obviously elsewhere it was almost comical to look at. After all, no one took this long to read the mission brief. It was called a ‘brief’ for a reason. 
“ Whatcha doing?” you poked Atsushi’s shoulder, then raised an eyebrow as he screamed and flew up from his chair. “ What’s wrong?” you asked innocently as if you hadn’t already guessed the answer. 
You watched Atsushi; saw his nervousness, the way he chewed his lips raw. The shake of his hands, the bob of his adams apple as he swallowed until; “ W-would you like- to-spend-valentine's-day-with-me” Atsushi bowed in front of you.
You crocked an eyebrow in surprise, took a moment to try and decipher the mix of words he had just thrown at you in a shy, embarrassed haze. Still it was a private question in such a formal matter, and you found it absolutely adorable. A giggle made it past your lips before you leaned forward, so you could catch his eyes even as he stared firmly at the floor. 
“ ‘course, you’re my boyfriend, who else would I spend it with?” you flapped your lashes innocently watching his mouth open, then close, as he processed your words. Then he realized his own ridiculous behavior and grew more rigid. 
“ Ahh well- it’s – we haven’t since– and it’d be our first and–” Atsushi fidgeted with his hands still not looking at you.
You swore that if he was in his waretiger form, then his ears would be flattered against his head, and his tail would drum against the floor. You could practically hear it; thud-thud-thud. Biting back yet another giggle you focused on the nervous mess of a boy in front of you. 
“ I’ll see you after the mission Atsu” you gave him a peck on the lips, lingered long enough to see his cheeks dust a darker red at the nickname and the memories it brought back. Then you were off, darting down the ADA halls to catch up to Dazai. The faster you started, the faster you’d be able to  get this mission over and done with. 
After all, your little weretiger was nervous, shy and excited. And you couldn’t wait to be back to reassure him, and show him that you meant every word when you called him your boyfriend, your partner, your mate. 
Tumblr media
Author note: Happy Valentines day! I hope you smiled at this little Atsushi sweetness and my first attempt at writing a fic with him.
Hope you enjoyed 🩷
Like this work and want more? Check out Raven's Masterlist
©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!
34 notes · View notes
sillyrabbit81 · 2 years
Text
The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood - Part Six
Tumblr media
Series Summary: Lori "Babycakes" Tate swore she would never date a biker but when her life is in danger, she is put under the protection of a small club known as The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood. She suddenly finds herself attracted to not one, but five bikers.
A reverse harem, biker AU.
Part Six Summary: Syverson has an unusual request for Marshall which leads him to a decision that could change the fate of the Brotherhood forever.
Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC, Walter Marshall x OFC, Mike x OFC, Geralt x OFC, August Walker x OFC
Word Count: Approx. 3.4k
Warnings:
Series Warnings: Reverse harem, age gap (OFC 23, ages range from 23 to mid 40s), oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, anal sex, group sex, masturbation, praise kink, mentions of body fluids, drug use, recreational drinking, sex work, criminal activities, mention of death, violence, use of weapons, mentions of war, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, probably a lot more that I will add as they come up.
Part Six Warnings: Smutty thoughts, angst, fluff.
Authors Note: Thanks as always to my lovely BBFs (Best Beta's forever) @henryobsessed and @nashibirne. Its been a while since I've written Walter and I've never written his POV so I hope you all enjoy it.
Divider made by me. Edited by me, there will be errors.
Masterlist
Parts Masterlist
Part Five Part Seven
Tumblr media
Marshall
When Sy brought her out of the room with his arm around her, both of them were flushed and looked a little tousled. For half a second I felt a stabbing pain of jealousy and I wanted to look away. Then I saw him run the back of his finger down her cheek with a tenderness I had never seen in the Brother. The moment appeared so private and so personal, like it had been when she slept in his arms, it seemed wrong to look at them.
You’ve gone soft Walter, I told myself. But I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. 
Despite all of it, I was happy for him because I hoped he was going to get a chance to make up for some of the mistakes of his past and move through them. He wasn’t all the way healed yet. Like all of us, his scars, his pain, and his trauma ran deep. I spoke to him truthfully last night; he deserved her as much as any of us arseholes did. I wouldn’t stop him and I would hurt any of the Brothers who got in his way. 
I glanced at Walker, yes even him.
Although I didn’t hold the same level of animosity against Walker as Sy did, I understood their rivalry. They were both capable leaders, both could have been president, but in the end, Walker had connections that Sy didn’t have. It wasn’t just Sy being put out that he had to bow to Walker’s leadership though; Walker had never let Sy forget his loss, throwing his position in his face for years until Geralt had a word with him. Sometimes I think we all fucked up and should have made Geralt Pres, but Geralt wouldn’t hear of it.
Sy helped her put her jacket on, her helmet and gloves. Walker revved his Dyna impatiently and Sy threw daggers at him as he languidly got on his bike. His face was mostly covered by his helmet but I could imagine the smirk on Sy’s face as Lori climbed on behind him and held him tight. As soon as she was settled, Walker took off and Mike, who was cruising in the front with him, had to light his back tire up to catch him.
Shaking my head, I looked over at Geralt who was mirroring my gesture. Unspoken, we knew something had to be done about the situation between Sy and Walker before it got way out of hand.
Tumblr media
We stopped for lunch at a truck stop. The food was awful but the bathrooms were clean and that made up for a lot. Lori, Sy, Mike and I sat in a booth together while Walker and Geralt sat in another.
Mike talked incessantly, but she seemed to like it, smiling and giggling through his constant chatter. Sy didn’t seem to mind that Mike kept monopolising her attention and looked at the two of them like an indulgent uncle, happy for the younger ones to be getting along. 
Sy kept throwing me looks however, like he was trying to work something out in his head and thought maybe I’d have the answers. 
At one point Lori leaned into Sy and he put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. I saw her close her eyes and it looked like she shivered with pleasure. I squeezed my eyes shut and looked away, avoiding eye contact with both of them until food arrived.
I was in my own world as I ate, trying not to think when I realised everyone was quiet and looking at me.
“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” I said, putting my almost finished burger down and taking a sip of my coke.
Lori smiled at me while Mike scowled. “Babycakes asked if you ever played football.”
“You mean American Football?” I asked.
Lori nodded. “What other kind is there?”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Here we go,” Sy said, chuckling. “You’ve opened a can o’ worms here, sugar.”
Deciding to take it easy on her, I forewent the explanation of “football” versus “soccer” and answered in the spirit of her question. “No. I played rugby.”
“Oh, I’ve seen that. It’s like football, but no helmets, right?”
“There’s more to it than that, but yes.”
“So you’re English?”
I let myself smile. “What gave me away?”
She laughed softly, dropping her eyes a moment and she tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear as if she were embarrassed by stating the obvious. Jesus, she was pretty and her throaty laugh warmed me enough that for a second I imagined what her deep mahogany waves would look like fanned over my pillow like a corona as she threw her head back with a moan.
Mike interrupted then, inserting himself back into the conversation and I was relieved when her attention was diverted. But every so often Lori would look over at me and smile. Sy kept throwing those pondering glances and again, I wondered what he was up to.
Tumblr media
After we ate, Sy handed Lori over to Mike and lit a cigarette as he called me aside. I lit a smoke myself and followed him out of earshot.
“Walker is sending me on a job when we get back,” Sy said with no preamble.
I was only slightly surprised. I took a long drag on my smoke. “Want me to go instead?”
“It’s a logistics job, so it’s got to be me.”
“How long are you going for?”
“Walker says two days to a week, so who knows. I haven’t seen the brief yet.”
“What about her?”
I took the risk to look at Lori. She was sitting on the curb outside the diner having a cigarette with Mike who was telling her a story, his arms moved wildly. She was bloody breathtaking with her hair all mussed up from her helmet, her long legs bent with an elbow resting on her knee and hand covering her face a moment as she laughed at whatever Mike was telling her. 
Sy took a deep breath. “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
My eyebrows shot up. “What do you need, Brother?”
Sy sucked in another deep lungful of his cigarette and stared at me. His eyes squinted almost shut as he looked towards the sun behind me and blew the smoke out again before he spoke as if he were still making up his mind what he should say. 
“I wantcha to take care of her,” he finally said.
I felt my brows draw down low as I tried to process what he was asking of me. “You’re gonna have to be clearer than that, Sy.”
He sniffed and glanced over at the girl before he looked at the ground. “Just be there for her. Keep her occupied, away from Walker.”
“Fuck,” I swore under my breath.
“I know what I’m askin’…”
“No, you fucking don’t,” I said harshly. “You’re setting me up to betray you, my Brother.”
Squinting again, Sy looked me in the eyes. “It ain’t betrayal if you have permission.”
I blinked. Completely floored, I stared at Sy my mouth working several times before I was able to speak. “What the fuck are you talking about? She isn’t a whore to just pass around.”
“Fuck, I shoulda asked Geralt,” Sy ran a hand over his close cropped hair, “He was the one who put the damn idea in my head in the first place.” 
He turned away in frustration and I grabbed hold of his arm.
“Wait a minute. What did Geralt say to you?”
“That she could choose more than one of us.”
I took a step back. “Fucking hell.”
“Look, I know we all want her—”
“Syverson—”
“Let me finish, God damn it,” Sy growled. I put my arms up and he continued. “We all want her. Geralt’s of the mind she can have all of us if she wants to, I don’t doubt Mike would go for that too. But, Mike’s too young to stand up to Walker. It’ll still be up to her. I ain’t sayin’ ya gotta force yourself on her or nothin’. Just give her the option.”
“So, this is all about Walker? Are you so fucked up that you’d give up a chance at happiness, just to spite Walker?” I shook my head. He can’t be fucking serious. “She could choose Walker anyway, you know? Then where would you be? Sharing her with him?”
“He only wants her to fuck with me,” Sy growls. “The rest of you, I see it in your eyes, you care about her the same as me. This ain’t a competition for us. And you’re my Brothers, and… Fuck.” Sy grabbed me by the back of the neck, drawing our faces together until he was looking me in the eye. “And I trust you with everythin’, with my fuckin’ life, with hers. Ya feel me?” His jaw jutted forward, and his grip on my neck tightened. “If you’re who she wants, if any of y’all are who she wants, or if she wants us all, then I’ll do it for her and I’ll do it for you. Ya get it?”
Fuck, he was serious. He was actually considering this shite. And not just considering it, he seemed hellbent on it; his eyes burned with a passion I’d rarely seen from him before. 
I put my hands on his shoulders. “Alright, Sy. Alright, my Brother. Relax, okay? She’s looking this way.”
“Fuck.” He let me go and took a few steps back, making sure not to look in her direction. “Is she comin’ over?”
“No.”
“Good.” Sy rolled his shoulders a few times, releasing built-up tension. “So what do you think?”
“I think you and Geralt are living in some kind of fantasy if you think this could possibly lead to anything other than disaster.”
“I thought so too, but…” Sy shrugged, “I don’t know. I still don’t wanna leave, but knowin’ that you’d be with her takes the edge off. Something about it feels right.”
“Syverson, I—”
“Do me a solid and just think about it, alright? For me, Brother.”
I nodded, still too shocked to really argue with him. Sy returned the gesture, turned abruptly on his heels, and walked swiftly over to Lori. He squatted in front of her, resting his chin on her bent knees. Without looking at him, she reached out and scratched at his beard, I could almost hear him purr in response.
He doesn’t mean it. There’s no way. He thinks he does, that’s what it is. He’s so fucking narrowminded when it to Walker that he’d rather see himself share her with another man than risk the chance that he’d lose her to Walker.
“You gonna do it?” Geralt spoke from behind.
“Do what exactly? Throw myself at my Brother’s girl, pretending it's ok cause he wants me to?” I spat bitterly. “How could you put this lunacy into his fucking head?” 
“He’s got no claim on her.”
Slack jawed, I gestured to Sy, still on his haunches in front of Lori, he still hadn't taken his eyes off her.
“Even if he hasn’t fucked her, look at him. He’s a bloody lovesick puppy. I can’t take that away from him.”
Geralt put a hand on my shoulder and made me look at him. “You won’t be. She looks at him the same way.”
“Then what’s the point? She’s made her choice.”
“She looks at all of us the same way.”
I looked at her, really looked at the way she was staring at Mike. Then her eyes drifted to Geralt then slowly to mine, and she smiled when she saw I was looking at her. Fuck, Geralt was right, she’s attracted to all of us.
“I need to think about this.”
“Don’t take too long, or I’ll move in myself.” Geralt said and grinned. “I will anyway. But I’ll let you have the first shot.” I looked at him sharply and his grin turned into a laugh. “That look tells me, you’ve made your mind up, you just haven’t told yourself yet.”
I grunted. I lit another cigarette craving another hit of that antsy rush as the nicotine hit my blood stream. Geralt patted my shoulder, leaving me with a hum and a sinking feeling in my chest.
Tumblr media
Pizza was ordered and somehow we all ended up in Lori’s room eating and knocking back a few beers. Except for Walker and his absence was noted.
“Is he always left out or is it because of me?” Lori asked me quietly. 
She was sitting between Sy and I against the headboard of the bed, while Mike and Geralt sat cross legged across from us. The pizza was long gone and I was on my third beer. I should have stopped at one, but after my talk with Sy earlier, I needed the extra buzz.
“I can see there’s tension between Sy and Walker and I don’t want to make it worse,” Lori shrugged, “I know how shit can go when there’s issues between members and it usually isn’t pretty.”
“He could be here if he wanted to. Walker often chooses his own company.”
“Still, I feel kind of bad for him.” She dropped her head a little, scratching at the label of her beer bottle.
“Don’t worry about it, Lori,” I said, lowering my own head to catch her eye. “The issues between Sy and Walker go way back. If it wasn’t you, they’d argue about the colour of the sky.”
She gave me a half smile and nodded before turning her attention back to the guys.
I took some time to really observe what was going on here. The dynamic was oddly normal. Lori slotted into the group easily, almost like she’d always meant to be with us. It wasn’t exactly the same as it was when we first became Brothers, even Mike had changed that dynamic, but like him she enhanced us, as if the four of us had been waiting for him and now her. 
If you had told me a month ago that a woman would come into our lives that we all developed feelings for, I would never have imagined this scene. I would have envisioned a growing animosity between us, a heightened level of competition, of each of us trying to outdo each other for her attention. But again, oddly, it was the opposite. She was bringing us together in a way that I thought would be impossible. It hardly made sense. It seemed to go against every instinct I had and yet… Could it work? Could we all be with her? Would it be enough for us?
The only spanner in the works was Walker. And really, that was an issue for Sy and Walker to work out. Lori didn’t begin the animosity between them, but her presence has accelerated its cancerous growth.
And she had noticed. She was aware of the way Walker held himself aloof from the rest of us sometimes. He was as much my Brother as the others, my loyalty to him was as strong but there had always been a distance between him and the rest of us. For a brief moment, I entertained the possibility that she could be the key to unlocking his final walls, to bring him closer to the rest of us and finally settling the futile peacocking that went on between him and Sy.
But that was a ridiculous thought and I was getting way ahead of myself. 
I finished the last of my beer and caught Geralt’s eye. He seemed to be thinking the same thing I was and dipped his head slightly. 
“Right,” I said, climbing off the bed, “Come on Mike, let's get some rest before our shifts start.”
Mike opened his mouth seemingly in protest, but I gave him a firm look and his mouth snapped shut. Mike glanced at Sy and Lori and had enough sense to yawn and ungracefully stretch. 
“Yeah, I’m a little tired.”
We silently tidied up the empty beer bottles and pizza boxes and when we were finished Lori looked at us a little awkwardly.
“Well, goodnight,” she said.
Mike said goodbye first, giving her a kiss on the cheek and a hug, not as flirtatious as he had yesterday, but he whispered something in her ear that made her smile and her cheeks warm as she stepped out of his embrace.
“Night Geralt,” she said softly, perhaps even a little shyly.
“Lori,” he said simply pausing briefly to nod his head in her direction as he walked past her and followed Mike out the door.
Then she turned her attention to me and wrapped her arms around my waist. I think I hummed as I returned her embrace. I could feel the rise and fall of her chest, the soft tickle of her warm breath on my neck and my eyes slid shut on their own accord. She stood on her toes and suddenly my nose was in her hair, her fragrance unavoidable, delicate and intoxicating in its fresh, sweet, citrusy aroma.
“Good night, Marshall,” she whispered.
My heart was thumping harder than my Fat Boy at idle as I let her go. I held her at arms length by the shoulders. She was beautiful. She had an easy, unpretentious, girl next door sexuality that made me want to crawl inside her and make her filthy. 
Fuck.
As if her skin was suddenly a hotplate, I let her go.
“Night, Babycakes,” I said. My tone was a little deep, but at least it didn’t waver, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Her brows furrowed, “Aren’t you on duty tonight?”
“We’ll be standing watch outside your room,” I explained. Geralt had a word with Walker and it was agreed that Sy would stay the night with Lori and the rest of us would guard the door outside. How Geralt convinced Walker to allow it, I’ll never know.
“Sy?” Lori said, turning to him.
“I was going to stay with you, like last night,”
Lori looked at the floor and her cheeks flushed slightly. 
“If you don’t want me too, I’m sure I can…”
“No, no,” Lori said quickly, “I’d like you to stay.”
Sy grinned and cupped Lori’s cheeks, tilting her face up to his.
Not wanting to intrude on what was undoubtedly about to take place, I left quickly. However, Sy surprised me by following me outside after telling Lori he’d be back in a minute.
Mike was smoking and Geralt was leaning against the wall, their heads both lifting as Sy and I came out.
“Aren’t you staying with Babycakes or did she kick your old ass ou–Ouch!” Mike grunted. 
Geralt smirked as he dropped his arm by his side and Mike threw him a murderous look as he rubbed the back of his head. I scoffed. If Mike only knew what Sy and Geralt had in mind.
Sy shook his head, and ignored Mike. 
Geralt smirked and threw an arm around the kid. “Come on, little Brother,” he said and took him off to his room. 
When they were out of earshot, Sy spoke to me in a low voice as he pulled a cigarette out of his packet, “Did ya think about what I asked?”
“Yeah.” I said. 
“And?”
“I’ll do it,” I sighed.
Sy took a deep breath and let it out roughly. “Thank you, Brother.”
I crossed my arms across my chest. “Don’t fucking thank me yet. What are you going to tell Lori?”
“I already told her, if she needs anythin’ and I ain’t around she should go to you.”
“I think you should tell her more than that.”
Sy took a long drag on his cigarette before crushing it beneath his foot. “Yeah. I’ll speak to her.”
He stood for a while, flicking his zippo between his fingers. Mike and Geralt had left, no doubt going to get some rest before their shifts began.
“Hey, man. Maybe you should spend some time with her tonight,” Sy said. “Let her get comfortable with ya before I leave tomorrow. I can take an hour of your shift, wait here and—”
“No Brother,” I interrupted. He was really serious. Part of me thought he’d take it all back once he realised what he agreed to and what it would mean for him. “You don’t know when you’ll be back.”
Sy’s eyes were drawn to the motel door. “Yeah,” he agreed.
I patted his shoulder. “Go on, she’ll be waiting.”
Tumblr media
445 notes · View notes
missrosegold · 10 months
Text
always the fool with the slowest heart - Merman!Dabi x fem reader snippet
(Well, this is the title! I got the name from Gilded Lily by Cults, because that verse has me in a chokehold. This is not the full story but a small taste of what’s to come! I have so much editing to do, good lord. Enjoy!)
The next morning you find yourself walking down the slightly overgrown trail through the forest that leads towards the private beach behind your relative’s house.
It doesn’t seem that anyone has used the beach trail for some time. The dirt path is slightly overgrown with leaves and vines from the surrounding underbrush, but you can still follow the well-worn path easily. You’ve used it enough over the years that you know the path like the back of your hand, and you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as the sound of the beach grows louder, despite how tired you feel.
You didn’t sleep as well as you thought you would. You were restless last night, and you swore that you heard that strange humming echoing either in your head or on the breeze at random points during the night while you slept, causing you to wake up sporadically during the night.
You still have no idea what could have been behind the humming. You spent the morning thinking about it as you changed into your swimsuit, figuring that even if you couldn’t find what was causing the odd sound, you could at least enjoy some time on the beach before the sun got unbearably hot in the afternoon.
You push back some of the large palm leaves blocking your view of the beach, and you raise a hand to your eyes as you’re momentarily blinded by the sun beating off the white sands. You breathe in the smell of salt water as your eyes adjust to the brightness of your surroundings, and you’re pleased to see that the beach hasn’t changed in your absence.
The beach behind your aunt and uncles house is a large open stretch of sand and water that leads straight out to the open sea, past some flat rocks that jut out of the clear blue water with small coral growths scattered around the bases. The beach itself is surrounded on both sides by two large rock faces some ways out, closing off the beach and keeping it hidden away from your relatives’ other neighbors. Your own private slice of paradise.
Looking out to the left, you spy a large crevasse a few feet away from where you’re currently standing, carved into the steep rock face that you know leads to the private grotto that you used to swim in for hours at a time. You wonder what it looks like now—
Suddenly the low humming from the night before cuts through the warm air like a knife, snapping you out of your brief reprieve. You can hear it echoing out of the grotto clear as day, easily overpowering the sounds of the surf, almost as if it’s being sung directly in your ear. You don’t even realize that you’ve subconsciously made your way over to the entrance of the grotto, until you’re standing almost directly in front of the daunting rock crevasse, completely enraptured by the strange sound.
Now that you’re closer to the source of the sound, you conclude that whatever is making it must be human because there’s no animal on earth that could make a sound so otherworldly. You also realize in that same vein that it sounds distinctly male. The rich, low tones almost lull you into a trance as you stand on the beach, swaying lightly on the spot, before you’re able to snap yourself out of it.
Was there really another person here with you? You didn’t see any cars last night when you checked, and there was no way anyone could get down here using the same trail that you had without you noticing. Maybe it was one of your relative’s reclusive neighbors? But that didn’t make any sense, they had small beaches on their properties, there was no need for them to come to your side. Unless it was someone completely different.
The thought makes you pause. The only other way someone could come to this side of the island aside from driving would mean they had to swim it. You know there’s another set of homes about twenty minutes away that have a series of docks that people used to anchor their boats and swim off of. While it was certainly possible that someone who was a strong swimmer could make the trek from there to here, Keigo had made it clear yesterday that this side of the island was off limits due to the bad undertow, and that no one was suppose to be anywhere near here.
So who in the hell was making that sound?
As quickly as the humming started, it dies off again, leaving you standing in front of the entrance to the grotto, unsure of what to do. After a moment of debating with yourself, you sigh and quietly make your way into the grotto, not wanting to alert whatever or whoever was in there of your presence. You side step several large rocks at the front of the entrance as you make your way into the main chamber, and step out into the sun-lit cavern, making sure to keep your footsteps light to avoid them echoing off the walls and giving away your location.
The grotto itself is beautiful. It reminds you of a cenote, as the cave’s walls are still largely intact, blocking out the rest of the outside world, but the rocky ceiling had caved in some years ago, allowing a great deal of sunlight to stream into the cavern, basking the cave in a warm glow. It has a large pool of water in the middle of the cavern surrounded by the ledge that you were currently on. There’s one large, flat rock a few feet away from where you’re standing, that’s slightly elevated and sits almost directly in the middle of the clear water that you used to lounge on when you visited. It was perfect for sunbathing as it stayed directly in the middle of the sun’s reach for the majority of the day without ever getting too hot, and you often ended up dozing off on it. The deep, craggily walls block out most of the sounds from outside, keeping the interior of the cave quiet and peaceful, the occasional sounds of water lapping up on the walls can be heard echoing throughout the cave, but aside from that, there are no other noises.  
It’s so quiet, it takes you a second to register that you’re not alone. Someone is in the cave with you, and they’re unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, because they’re very clearly not human.
And they’re sunbathing on your rock. Just like you used to.
You blink, once, twice, absolutely mystified at the creature currently sunning itself on the large rock before you.
You can’t believe what you’re seeing. It should be impossible, there’s no way the creature before you is real. They can’t be. You barely dare to breathe, believing that if you do, it’ll shatter the admittedly beautiful illusion that is lying, stretched out on his back, before you on the rock.
You are looking at a merman. There is no other word to describe the breath-taking creature in front of you. You’ve read enough stories about them and watched The Little Mermaid enough as a child to know one when you see one, and what you’re looking at is very clearly a merman.
And he is gorgeous.
His top half looks like that of a human male in appearance, but there are some noticeable differences, namely the torn, translucent fins on either side of his head where ears would be on a human. Creeping closer, you swear you can see what look like small gills on the sides of his neck, and larger ones on either side of his ribs, but he doesn’t seem to have any problems breathing oxygen, as you can see the steady rise and fall of his chest from where you’re standing.
His hair is shockingly white and spikes up in different directions, presumably from the salt in the water, and his skin is a similar pale colour, giving him the illusion that he’s glowing in the sunlight. Scanning further down his body, your illusion is broken as you take in the multitude of dark scarring that riddles his (admittedly very well-defined) torso. Long, ugly gashes crisscross up and down body, starting from his jaw and run down to his abdomen and arms, and it doesn’t escape your attention that each finger is tipped with a long, black claw. The scarring extends further down to his lower half, where the man fades, and the fish takes over.
His tail is stunning, despite the obvious damage done to it. The scales at the top of his tail that aren’t affected by scarring, are pure white, just like his hair, but close to the middle, they start to fade in colour until they’re completely black near the end of his tail. His large caudal fin has seen better days – the delicate webbing of his fin is completely ragged, almost as if something sharp had been sliced thought it multiple times – and you wonder what could have caused all the scarring that litters his body. Your thoughts are interrupted as the merman suddenly shifts and turns over onto his side so he’s facing your direction, nearly making you gasp at his sudden movement, but his eyes remain closed and his breathing doesn’t change, allowing you to relax a little, and release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.
Now that he’s changed positions, you’re able to get a closer look at him: He’s massive. You don’t know how big he is exactly from where you’re standing, but if you had to guess, he’s probably around thirteen to fourteen feet long from his head to the tip of his tail. He’s so long that half of his tail is hanging off the rock and even then, he still manages to make the large, flat rock look small in comparison.
You know that you shouldn’t be standing about ogling him. Despite how fascinated you are by him; the rational part of your mind is screaming at you to get as far away as possible. This is a creature that could easily kill you without so much as a second thought. One look at the sharp, black talons on his fingers confirm it. Judging from the plethora of scars that litter his body, he’s gone up against things in the sea that are a lot bigger and scarier than you, and lived, so he probably wouldn’t think twice about tearing you in half if he woke up and noticed you staring at him, before continuing on with his nap.
You don’t know what you’re going to do about your discovery, but you can’t be bothered to worry about that right now. For now, you’d leave, and maybe you’d come back later once you thought of a plan, but currently, you had no way to defend yourself if he woke up and deemed you a threat, and you didn’t want to stick around to find out what he’d do to you if he did.
But, on the other hand; maybe he wouldn’t be here if you came back again. Maybe this would be the only opportunity you’d ever get to see something like him. You didn’t bring your phone with you, so it’s not like you could take a picture of him. All you could rely on was your eyes and your memory.
You decide one last close-up look of the merman wouldn’t hurt anyone. As you slowly move closer to the end of the ledge you were standing on, a small surge of water splashes up onto the ledge, soaking your bare feet and startling you. You let out a yelp of before you can stop it, and slap a hand to your mouth, but it’s too late – the shrill noise is already bouncing around the walls of the cavern mockingly – and you watch in horror as the merman’s eyes snap open, and he bolts up-right impossibly fast.
You know that you should be booking it out of the grotto while you still have the chance, but you can’t. You’re rooted to the spot, completely hypnotized by the creature in front of you. It’s absolutely ridiculous, but the only thing you can bring yourself to think of in the moment is that his eyes are the brightest shade of blue that you think you’ve ever seen.
His feral turquoise eyes flick around wildly before they find your own, and you watch as he immediately tenses up – deep turquoise pools that rivaled the clearest seawater, boring into your own. Unblinking, and unwavering.
To his credit, he looks almost as stunned to see you, as you are to see him. You gawk openly at each other, neither of you willing to blink first, but in the end, he recovers from his initial shock quicker then you.
The torn, translucent fins on either side of his head flare out, as an inhumane hiss claws its way out of his mouth. The gills on the sides of his neck and ribs also flutter out, making his impossibly large frame seem even bigger, as his wicked black talons hyper extend and dig into the rock under him, leaving gouges in their wake. His powerful, scared tail slaps once against the rock irritably, sounding like a whip cracking as it echoes off the walls of the cave, all the while, his piercing blue eyes never leave your own startled ones as he leers down at you from his perch.
You flinch, reading for him to launch himself off the rock and onto you, presumably to claw your eyes out with his razor-sharp talons – but that doesn’t happen. Instead, a fearsome snarl tears itself out of his throat, and your eyes widen impossibly as he snarls at you in a voice that sounds like it hasn’t been used in a very long time:
“Get the fuck outta here!”
100 notes · View notes
redundant2 · 1 year
Text
Valentine Low's book Courtiers, Part 2: Tiaragate
Tumblr media
Interesting excerpts from the book, Part 2
Much has been said and speculated about in regard to the tiara worn by Meghan at her wedding to Harry. Here is what Valentine Low had to say about "Tiaragate" in his book, which was published before The Queen passed away:
"Being a royal would always mean dressing up -- and for the women, that meant jewellery. The Queen would sometimes lend pieces to existing and incoming members of the royal family. It was a gesture of welcome and support, but it could lead to problems."
"In the months before Harry's wedding to Meghan Markle in May 2018, Meghan was told that the Queen would lend her a tiara for the big day, just as she had done for Kate Middleton seven years earlier. An appointment was made in February for Meghan to look at a shortlist of appropriate tiaras at Buckingham Palace. Accompanied by Harry, and under the watchful eye of Angela Kelly, the Queen's dresser, who is also curator of the Queen's jewellery, Meghan opted for Queen Mary's Diamond Bandeau Tiara. So far, so good. Despite some confusing reports, there was no row about which tiara Meghan could have. She got her first choice. It was what happened afterwards that was the problem."
Tumblr media
"Wearing a tiara is not a straightforward business. Hair and tiara have to be considered together, and Meghan needed to be sure her hairdresser had an opportunity to rehearse before the day itself. Unfortunately, on the day that her hairdresser, Serge Normant was in town, Angela Kelly --who has a very close relationship with Her Majesty and is an influential figure at Buckingham Palace -- was not available.
Tumblr media
Serge Normant, Meghan's wedding hairdresser
"And if Angela Kelly was not available, neither was the tiara. In Harry's view, this was Kelly being obstructive, plain and simple. According to Finding Freedom, a decidedly pro-Harry and Meghan account of the couple's life together, Kelly had ignored repeated requests from Kensington Palace to set up a date for a hair trial. And Harry was furious. 'Nothing could convince Harry that some of the old guard at the Palace simply didn't like Meghan and would stop at nothing to make her life difficult,' wrote the book's authours, Omid Scobie and Carolyn Durand."
(I ... don't think this book quote means what the authors meant it to say. Maybe they meant to write that Harry felt the old guard at the Palace were out to block Meghan, and nothing would convince him otherwise? Tell me Finding Freedom wasn't edited well without telling me...)
"But there is another version: that it wasn't a snub, and that Harry and Meghan were naive at best, entitled at worst, to expect others to jump to their command when they hadn't even bothered to make an appointment. As a source told the Mail on Sunday:"
"'Meghan demanded access to the tiara. She didn't make an appointment with Angela, but said, "We're at Buckingham Palace, we want the tiara. Can we have it now please?" Angela essentially said, "I'm very sorry, but that's not how it works. There's protocol in place over these jewels. They're kept under very tight lock and key. You can't turn up and demand to have the tiara just because your hairdresser happens to be in town."'
"This did not go down well with Harry. He tried to get what Meghan wanted by ringing others to put pressure on Kelly to bend the rules, and in the course of his less-than-diplomatic efforts is said to have used some fairly fruity language. Whether Harry swore at his grandmother's aide, or about her, is not clear; either way, it is probably language that Kelly, the daughter of a Liverpool docks crane driver, has heard before. She is a forthright individual, who has not earned the nickname AK-47 for nothing. But she wasn't impressed. She reported all this to the Queen, who summoned Harry to a private meeting. 'He was firmly put in his place,' a source said. 'He had been downright rude.'
It was a very simple lesson: don't mess with AK-47."
From the book Courtiers by Valentine Low, pp 125-126.
Tumblr media
Her Majesty The Queen Elizabeth II, American Vogue editor Anna Wintour and Angela Kelly, the Queen's dresser.
This is a great book, and I highly recommend reading it. It's chock full of interesting anecdotes. There is quite a bit more interesting info about Angela Kelly, who seems to have been somewhat sidelined since the Queen's passing. I do hope that Kelly did get the grace-and-favour home that the Queen had promised her for life, as she seemed to loyally protect the Queen at all times.
In regard to the tiara worn by Meghan at her wedding to Harry, some have speculated that it was a replica of Queen Mary's Diamond Bandeau, with moissanite gems instead of real diamonds - due to the way the light reflected on the stones. Would be interested if anyone has further thoughts or expertise on that theory, if you'd like to share.
Tumblr media
I'll share more in subsequent posts about Angela Kelly, and of course, about the courtiers' version of events surrounding Harry and Meghan.
37 notes · View notes
mezmerwrites · 2 years
Text
If You're In, I'm In.
A Steve harrington x reader insert.
Tumblr media
Tw: alcohol consumption, drug use, smut if you squint, bad writing.
AN: this is my first fic so be nice if you point out mistakes lol. I also didn't edit this, oops. I have more parts of this fleshed out if this picks up, so send me an ask telling me what you think, or to be added to a tag list.
I originally wrote this as an !oc so if I missed anything while trying to change it to reader let me know. New ro reader inserts 🥲
Tumblr media
I stood outside of Tina's house, leaned against the brick siding as I dug around in my jacket pocket for the lighter I swore I had stuffed in there.
I let out a string of profanities upon realizing it was not in my pocket and probably lost somewhere inside. I huffed in annoyance and was fully prepared to walk home at this point when a similar string of frustrated profanities pulled my attention towards the side of the house where a familiar voice was rounding the corner.
Steve Harrington stalled when he saw me leant against the house, an appogy falling from his lips. "Oh, shit. Sorry Y/N, I didn't know anyone was back here." His voice was a little shaky and higher pitched than usual, signaling he was upset about something. He started to back track, moving backwards and running a hand through his already messy hair, about to leave me alone again.
I waved him over, the joint still balanced between my lips. "No worries. Got a light or somethin?" I asked, offering to share if he could get it going. He looked like he could use it. In the dim light coming from a open window on the side of the house I could see his puffy red rimmed eyes and hear the slight sniffling coming from him.
He was upset.
He fumbled around in his own jacket pocket before procuring a silver lighter with a slight grin. He stepped over and handed me the lighter as he matched my stance, leaning against the side of the house. I took a moment to light the joint, taking long drag before passing it over to one of my oldest friends. "So, what's wrong?" I asked, lifting a brow as he took the joint from me, groaning at my inquiry.
"Dude, everything. It's just not my week." He began to open up, telling me about the current Nancy situation and the Billy basketball situation and the bad English grade situation. He looked defeated, especially the shitty part about Nancy, less so about the basket ball thing, and even less about the grade.
I let out a low whistle, taking the joint back from him. "Bummer." I offered softly, my smile even softer. Steve was a good guy underneath all that King Steve bullshit, and I knew he really loved Nancy, it didn't take a rocket scientist to see he was pretty torn up about it.
He hummed in agreement. "Yeah, It sucks. Ever been down in the dumps like this?" He asked as he took the now shorter joint from me, bringing it to his lips. He watched me as I shoved my hands under my arms in attempts to warm them up. I had worn a stupid playboy bunny outfit, matching with a couple of my friends and I regretted it the longer i stood out here.
I kicked the dirt under my shoe, shrugging. "Yeah, once." I answered with a breathy sigh. A half smile pulled at my lips as I recalled the gut wrenching heart break I'd suffered at the hands of Jason two months ago when I found out he'd been hooking up with Chrissy Cunningham while he was supposed to be meeting me for a date. "It sucks, but it gets better." I reassured him with a gentle smile, hoping it made him feel a bit better.
He passed me the almost out joint before digging in his pocket for his car keys. "Wanna get out of here? I have beers at home and the rents are out of town." He offered, an invitation I hadn't received in quite some time.
I thought it over for a minute, absent-mindedly looking towards the house party where my friends were dancing inside. "Yeah, let's go. I'm cold and I have more weed at home." He smiled a bit wider at the thought of having a pitty party at home in private instead of unfront of all of Hawkins high.
The drive was short, and as soon as we were parked I skipped over to my house next door to retrieve the goods and change into something warmer before meeting Steve out by his pool, using the gate on the fence that separated our yards.
He had an ice chest drug out, his feet propped up on it as he lit a cigarette between his teeth.
I plopped down on the other end of the pool chair, pulling the bag and papers from my hoodie pocket, along with the bottle of vodka I'd cracked open earlier in the night before the party. 
It was several hours, one bottle of vodka, and two joints later and Steve and I were laying side by side, smushed into the same lounge chair staring at the sky, a thick quilt from inside draped over the both of us. Steve had just finished spilling his guts on the truth about Barbra, what had happened to that will kid, and what the upside down was and the monsters that lived within it.
At first I thought he was pulling my leg, but I realized he wasn't once he looked towards the pool with a haunted expression, and then started talking softer like someone might hear his confession and book him on the spot.
I wasn't sure what to say, so I didn't say anything for a while. I just laid there with my head touching his looking at the stars absorbing all the information he dumped on me. I cleared my throat after a moment and spoke once I decided on what I wanted to say. "So, you tried to kill it with a baseball bat that Dustin Henderson hammered a bunch of nails into?" I just couldn't get the mental imagine out of my head of how that played out.
Steve scoffed, "Out of everything I just said that's all you retained?" He nudged me with his shoulder, a dazed look in his eyes before returning them back to the sky.
I sighed, shaking my head, "No, I retained all of it..." I began to trail off, "That part just seemed less traumatizing honestly." I whispered, trying to picture the monster he described. I shivered imagining the rows upon rows of teeth.
Steve hummed, sounding spaced out like he was stuck in his head. "You know you can't tell anyone. I was swore to secrecy by the government, they'll kill you if you tell." He was definitely drunk, that I could tell from the way he talked during the whole story, but his tone was different now, a little scared. "Thats why I had to tell you out here, pretty sure my house is tapped or something." He mumbled, wiping a hand across his face.
I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat, pretending like that didn't freak me out. "Don't worry, lips are sealed." I reassured him that I wouldn't talk about it, but part of me wished he didn't dump all that on me.
The other part of me wondered how he was holding all that inside in the first place. I snuggled closer into his side as the wind picked up, my nerves quelled for the moment as he rested his head against mine.
"Why did we stop hanging out?" He slurred softly, eyes not leaving the sky, "We used to be so close Y/N." He sounded sad almost, but mostly just drunk.
I sighed again, thinking about the complicated last two years. "I dunno, Steve. We just- people grow apart sometimes." I kept my tone soft, careful to tiptoe around his already bruised feelings about his very recent break up. "We never quit being friends, we just got closer to other people, it's okay and normal." I reassured him, turning my head to look at his side profile.
He tucked his other arm under his head, adjusting on the chair we were almost falling out of now. "Yeah, I guess." Was all he said before he fell silent for a long moment, swallowing hard before his next set of words hung in the air. "I didn't want to grow apart from you, though."
My breath caught in my throat at the softness of his words and how he shifted next to me, turning on his side under the warm quilt. The truth was I didn't want us to grow apart either, but when I started seeing Jason last fall he made it very clear I was not to hangout with Steve, or anyone else.
He studied my face, I could feel his gaze on me but I wasn't ready to turn towards him, his face was much to close to mine to be able to hide what I was thinking or feeling. "Was it because of jason? Or me and nance?" He asked gently, his warm hand skimming up my thigh, resting on my hands that were interlocked together on my stomach.
The sudden contact made me turn to look at him, my resolve on not talking about it faded as I took in the way his hair flopped over his forehead and into his eyes that were red rimmed and blown out from the drugs and alcohol. I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing my eyes back to his and away from his bottom lip that was pouted out.
"Jason." I whispered, tongue darting out to wet my lips. I didn't miss the way Steve's eyes lost focus on my own at the action.
I tried to clear my head, squeezing my eyes shut. "He, uh, He didn't like how close we were. He was threatening to put you in your place or break up with me so I just... quit coming around." I admitted, unsure now that was ever the correct choice.
Steve hummed, eyes ghosting down to my lips ever so quickly, but not unnoticed by me. "Jason is a punk, and wouldn't have got far with that." He mumbled, rolling his eyes. "Plus, it would have probably deterred him from doing what he did to you if he knew I was still in your corner." He sounded a little pissed off at the thought, which sent a tingle of something down my spine. Pride, maybe delight thinking about it.
I giggled at it, at him, and turned over on my side to face him. The hand he had holding both of mine slipped away, ghosting over my waist as his arm coiled aroind me, pulling me closer towards him as I almost teetered off the edge of the lounge.
The quick movement had me pressed against his chest, foreheads touching and legs tangled together. It felt too comfortable and normal, reminding me of the countless nights spent like this last summer.
He studied my face for a moment, hand moving from my waist to tuck stray curls behind my ear. "I think about that night all the time." His voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes never leaving mine. "It was the best kiss of my life." He finished, the softness in his voice melted all the resolve I had.
I let out a sigh and leaned into his hand, big warm and as inviting as I remember it being. I didn't trust myself to say anything that wouldn't get me in trouble, I already felt the familiar pull in my chest and the desire to fall back into an old pattern. Steve moved slowly, his hand anchoring behind my ear and pulling me towards him as he dipped his head ever so lower as he pressed our mouths together in the softest of kisses.
Just like I remembered him.
It was soft, doting, the kind of kiss you wrote in your diary about. The explosion of tingles from his hand on my face and his lips against mine was mesmerizing. I kissed back, pressing into him just a tad harder, encouraging him on.
His soft kisses grew fevered, more urgency behind them as he shifted. His hand left my face and returned to my waist, the other one slipping under and between the gaps in the plastic chair to spray across my upper back, holding Me impossibly close.
The kiss was gradually building, soft pecks to more pressure, to quicker and faster. I couldn't resist the urge to flick my tongue out against his lips, gently asking for him to kiss me harder.
He complied, deepening the kiss but still letting me take the lead, letting me guide the kiss into a gentle and slow make out session to rival anything I've ever seen on TV.
I finally pulled away a few short kisses later, needing to breathe and cool down before I suffocated. Steve didn't mind, he just rolled, pulling me under him just slightly as his hand on my face pushed my jaw upwards to press soft kisses against my neck. "I should have never let you go out with Carver, you could have been mine all this time." He grumbled, not letting up on the soft presses of his mouth against my skin.
I relaxed into it, sighing as the thought rolled over me.
His. His girlfriend.
Wait-
His girlfriend.
"Steve." I breathed out a warning as I came to my senses, my hands moving to his sides, trying to ground myself back to reality and not dream land where he was mine.
He let out a deliciously soft groan hearing his name, totally not letting up and only taking that as encouragement as his lips parted, kisses becoming wet and sloppy now.
My body betrayed me, head falling back into his grip and eyes fluttering closed at the sensation. A soft whimper blew past my lips as I pulled together all the resolve I had in my body and pushed him roughly, remembering why this was a terrible idea brought me back to reality.
He lifted off me, his eyes confused and a little hurt looking as he started to ask me what was wrong. "Y/N, I'm sorry! I thought you wanted too- I mean you were kissing me and-" I shook my head, sitting up on my elbows as he shifted off me, halfway falling off the pool lounge.
I tried to steady my breathing, my mood shifting from perfectly content to wildly embarrassed. "Nancy." I breathed out, running a hand through my hair as I tried to push back the guilt washing over me.
Steve's eyes widened, his lips pink from my lipgloss fell into a small "o" shape, realization fanning across his body.
I struggled to find my next words, going for a sentence this time and not just one word. "I don't want to be your rebound and hook up with you when you're sad drunk about your ex girlfriend, it hasn't even been 6 hours." I grumbled, suddenly a little angry at myself for letting him con me into this position.
He immediately apologized, "You're right, that was a dick move wasn't it? I'm sorry Y/N." He half smiled, but I could tell his mind was somewhere else still as his gaze dropped back to my lips.
I rolled my eyes and pushed him all the way off me, standing up. Just as I was about to turn away his hand shot out and grabbed hold of my bicep, he tugged me back into his chest. "And I don't want you to feel like a rebound, okay? That's not what any of that was to me." His brown eyes locked on mine and he let his hand fall into mine, locking our fingers together. "Seriously, y/n! You're more than that to me, you know that." His voice was soft and tender, begging me to believe him.
I let out the harsh breath I'd been holding at his confession and leaned into his chest. "I know, but figure out what's going on between you and her before you decide to kiss me again." I instructed, pulling away from him before I decided not to.
I turned on my heel and walked through his yard and through the gate onto my own, feeling better with distance between us.
It was well after midnight by the time I got out of the shower and got in bed, head reeling as I touched my fingers to my lips.
80 notes · View notes
mannien · 1 year
Text
Recon the Power
Happy Birthday @real-jane ! I’ve been working on this piece way past your Birthday in my time zone, but I know that it’s still your day back where you are from, so please - accept my most honest and best wishes! 🥳 I made it a goal to publish something for your challenge on your Birthday, to celebrate you and give you a little gift from me. I went definitely overboard and wrote much more than I intended. It’s also the first time I’ve written anything in a while, so it may be a little rusty and faulty here and there. But it’s made with love, curiosity, and passion - just like I see your works! Mine is all over the place, but that’s how I am now. I hope I can edit it someday and show you some progress! Please accept my entry for your Escape Challenge. I hope it will not be the only entry, and that it just sparked my creativity. 
Pairing: TFATWS!Bucky x OC!Leah Novak, Sam Wilson x Leah (platonically)
Word count: 4k
Summary: Bucky, Sam and Leah (witch!OC) attend a socialite Halloween Party to get intel about the Power Broker.
Warnings: blood, cobwebs, descriptions of Halloween decor, smut (allusions to sex, fingering, dry humping), death, some violence, alcohol, adult themes
(The pic below was found on Google, if you feel like it’s yours, do let me know, I’ll credit you)
Tumblr media
           None of them were heading into the most elitist Halloween party by choice, but the name Power Broker among the rumoured guests was too hard to pass. The task seemed simple: find the snitch who gave the Madripoor’s ruler leverage over governors and senators that played key roles in the upcoming military distribution of the US forces. Sam and Joaquin called it a simple recon, Bucky swore on his arm that they will become political puppets soon, and Leah willingly tagged along, promising that it’s just a precaution measure.
           Hotel Royal was a private property in New Jersey, owned by the former mayor. It was known for its seasonal banquets and themed parties for politicians, executives, and celebrities. In essence, the place reeked of money, gossip, and underground exchanges of power. It made them all hesitate before leaving the car and leaving it with Torres, who was supposed to be their eyes of the inside, and surrounding area during their stay. The three was left with nothing but a long red carpet stretching into the reception desk.
           They checked into a large suite on the third floor. The large, golden number 33 on the door was smeared with fake blood, and the doorknob sprayed with sticky webs that would make Spider-Man roll his eyes in embarrassment. The room itself, just like the whole hotel, looked like the time stopped in the golden era of elite cocktail parties. Dark wood furniture, golden handles, patterned walls and Parisian windows would make it a good romantic spot for a weekend getaway, only if it wasn’t crowded with the money laundering underground societies. The charm would still be there with the fake pumpkins on the tables, but Sam decided to lay out his tactical gear on the couch before dressing up. So much for a cute room from époque.
           “Remember, this is just to get information. We’re not engaging until absolutely necessary,” Sam’s decisive voice echoed through the suite, reaching down to the bathroom and the second room. Bucky walked back to him, buttoning his black shirt. “Eat, talk, be all ears.”
           “You don’t have to remind me what a recon is.”
           “I know. I wasn’t talking to you.” He nodded pointedly to the bathroom, when the makeup bag landed on the floor with a moderate thump.
           “If this is an easy recon, then why Torres is lurking around the building and we’re wearing those tiny earbuds?” she fixed her lipstick and pulled up the dress from around her hips, trying to squeeze through it and not rip it.
           “They’re called comms, Leah,” Sam was putting on his shiny black shoes that would - the kind that would get him into a ballroom dance competition.
           “She knows that.” Bucky’s mumble was shortly followed by her confirmation.
           “I know, Sam.”
           He shook his head in disbelief at the childish exchange and fixed his shoelaces.
           “Relax. We know the drill,” Bucky patted his shoulder. The tight-lipped smile was the most encouragement he could muster, but that was enough for his friend. “now, give me that tiny earbud.”
           Sam sent him a look and exhaled heavily at Bucky’s mocking chuckle. They set up the communication channel with Joaquin and put their looks together with shiny cufflinks, shirts nicely fitted into their waistbands, and spritzes of cologne.
           She rarely had the opportunity to dress up like this. Face accentuated by light makeup, hair nicely tucked away from her face with two golden bobby pins, and that body-tight dress; the faux-leather corset-like middle hugged her nicely, making her breasts curve just right. The bottom looked like a black princess gown, but cut off just below her ass. It was flowing with dark, delicate fabrics that jumped over the swell of her bum. Her body looked hellishly good in that dress, and Bucky’s mind repeated that statement to himself when he saw her appear in the doorframe.
           “Could you help me zip it?” Her timid voice was such a contrast to the way she looked, that even Sam raised his eyebrow in curiosity.
           Bucky put away his phone and walked up to her immediately, not even paying attention to the teasing look that their friend served them. She stood with her back to him, already half-zipped, so not too much of her was revealed. He struggled a little with the fastening, scrunching his eyebrows in the meantime.
           “Are you sure it’s not…”
           “What?”
           “It’s not uh…” he stuttered a little, trying to find the right words that wouldn’t offend her clothing choice. “too tight?”
           They both paused for a heartbeat, and Leah listened intently into the nervousness that started crawling out of his mind. She bit her lip and shook her head gently.
           “No, it fits. Just pull it up a bit more.” She instructed, but Bucky hesitated. He held the hem between his fingers and looked down, eyeing her bottom carefully as it slid through the material.
           “Pull it up? Doll, if I pull it up, your whole bottom will be out.” He protested, not even caring about using the pet name in front of Sam. When he heard her groan, he obeyed, and zipped up the dress and fastened the little clasp on top of it.
           Leah let out a small ‘thank you’ and shimmied about in the dress, fitting it comfortably around her. She pulled on the back to check how long it is and confidently pushed it up an inch more, covering more of her cleavage.
           “Where, uh…” He cleared his throat, lowering his voice. It caught her attention and made her look up, fixing her gaze on his wide blue eyes. “where did you get this?”
           “Why? You like it?” Leah’s voice was barely above a whisper, smiling wickedly at his stoic face that started to break with each look down her body. There was a tint of pink spreading over his cheeks. She could feel the warmth that was building up in his mind; she didn’t have to read his feelings to know that he liked it.
           “Alright, that’s it. We’re leaving now.” Sam waved at them and opened the door to the suite, inviting them both to walk out with him.
           Bucky passed Leah her comms and waited as she left the room first, making sure nothing was left behind. He walked up to Sam, pursing his lips at the proud smirk adorning his friend’s face.
           “Please use the room farthest from the door. I don’t wanna hear it.”
           By the time they made it to the ground floor, the party was in full swing. The main hall was covered in dark drapes, singular tables stood out with crimson tablecloths and crystal cutlery. The bar was visibly flowing with the fake smoke; waiters and bartenders were wearing either grim makeup, or a tad-too-revealing costumes. Politicians occupied the tall tables near the stage, where frighteningly flexible gymnasts showed off their skills on poles and hoops. The few lounge areas smelled of cigars and heavily poured whiskey. The whole floor was decorated with bloody signs, warning tapes, and random limbs of mannequins hanging on the walls.
           “I didn’t know Jersey’s senators would be into hardcore Halloween themes.” Leah’s mumble resonated in their comms. Nobody said anything in response, as they continued to stare at the bizarre décor of the place. They passed a group of A-list celebrities who were filming it and taking candid photos of the party; clad in equally form-fitting clothes, with glasses already half-empty.
           A few bystanders looked at the three with curious eyes; they weren’t necessarily hiding and did not wear their tactical uniforms. For some, such sight would be news-worthy. Bucky cursed himself for not wearing his leather gloves – the golden strokes over his fingers glistened under the dim lights and caught attention of those who knew of his past. He moved his hand nervously in an out of a fist, searching desperately for his pocket to hide his left hand. Just when he was clenching his jaw for the first time that night, Leah’s palm gently wrapped around his bionic arm, silently asking him to bend it, so that he could have her wrapped around it. She lifted up a corner of her lips when he looked at her, and saw through her action – she was calming him down. Leah eased the tension and let go of the tightly knotted nervousness. She worked her magic on him.
           They walked some more around the main room, taking in their surroundings and the guests that arrived. Governors chatted with art collectors; philanthropists made silent deals with influencers and valuable personas.
           “Guys, ten o’clock, a few gang leaders from Madripoor.” Bucky’s eyes wandered to the target offered quietly by Torres. Leah looked the other way, plastering an empty smile to her face as some performers mixed with the crowd.
           “I’m gonna go mingle.” He returned a fake smile and squeezed Leah’s palm, before wandering off.
           She swayed her hips a bit more to the heavy bass of music. Walking closer to Sam, she was about to offer him a drink, when her train of thoughts was blocked by someone’s heavy intention to talk. She saw the local governor making his way down to Sam, ready to shake his hand generously and congratulate on the latest achievements.
           “I’ll be at the bar.” Her soft voice left him with an overly excited, slightly intoxicated politician.
           The bartenders must have been paid extra, because the fire and fake blood were interchangeably accompanying each order. She found an empty barstool to sit and straightened up her back, to catch attention of the Dracula pouring another round of bloody Mary for a tech mogul’s wife.
           “What can I get you?” He offered her a little bowl of pretzels and lit up a tealight next to her.
           “Gin and tonic. Make it sweet.”
           While the bartender was fixing her drink, Leah looked around. Sam was nowhere to be found, the crowd even busier than minutes before. It made it difficult for her to read people’s feelings clearer, so she tried to listen in more.
           A creeping wave of anxiety, covered deeply by chemically altered excitement, beamed out of the short, dark-haired guy. He kept on circling his tall beer glass, as he allowed the girl next to him chat him up. He laughed at something the pretty blonde said, but he wasn’t focused on her. He kept on checking his watch and taking small, but continuous sips of his drink.
Leah wanted to read more into this, but the Dracula offered her the drink and made a show out of it, sprinkling it with edible glitter. She smiled thankfully and took a sip, admittedly impressed by the taste. She drank a bit more before turning back into focus, but her perception became clouded by the commotion in the other side of the room. Someone picked up a fight, but it quickly died down as security came out of nowhere, fully stocked with weapons to scare everyone off. The show of power resonated through the room, and the fear among the patrons dissolved quickly with fresh rounds of drinks and other refreshments.
When she turned back to the stress-drinker, he was gone. With sweet concoction in one hand, Leah stood up from the bar and tried to focus. She circled the drinking area and kept her eyes open, looking for that mop of hair and overpriced watch. She thought she saw him near the exit, welcoming someone in, but a group of laughing girls crossed her path and broke the connection. She backed off to an emptier side of the room and played with her hair, while saying,
“Torres, brown hair, short male. Sat three seats to the left from me at the bar, just came up to the entrance.”
“On it. Give me some time, let me know if you see him again.”
It went on like this for some time. She walked around, nursing her glittery drink and looking around for anything suspicious. Some people would walk up to her, chat about nothing and share empty excitement over the party. At one point, Sam’s head flashed in-between the swaying bodies. She got closer, watching carefully as a few senators shook his hand and exchanged pleasantries with Captain America in civil clothing. She rolled her eyes at the overload of testosterone emanating from them, so leaving Sam with their attention was the best choice for now. He was just fine.
Finding Bucky was a little more difficult. The mobsters changed their seats and were moving about, making it harder to navigate which group sucked him in. The last spot she hasn’t checked before was the secluded area with velvet lounges, where the skimpy dressed gymnasts came in, but didn’t leave for a while. She downed her drink and walked towards the little corridor.
Before she could turn the corner, a familiar, female voice resonated from the side. Leah could swear she knew that tone; she couldn’t make up the face, but her mind screamed at her to follow it. She pushed the heavy curtain and took a step inside, trying to be subtle and quiet. What she didn’t expect though, was the strong arm pulling her back forcefully, backing her to the main hall swiftly. Her brain didn’t warn her of any danger lurking behind, so she turned on her heels to be met with Bucky’s heavy gaze.
“I wouldn’t go there.” His low whisper was confident enough that Leah didn’t question him. He gestured with his head to the other way of the room and lead her away, making them blend in with the crowd again.
They found the bar with the same Dracula for a bartender, and Bucky pushed his way through enough to locate an empty bar stool for her. He gestured Leah to sit down, as he leaned on the counter and waved the bartender over to make an order.
She spent a minute taking him in. His suit still crisp and without a wrinkle on the shirt, face hard yet a tad softer, when he turned to her. She swore to limit her use of powers on him to bare minimum, so she didn’t read his emotions. She allowed him be, order them a drink each, and make himself busy for a moment.
“You good?” She asked finally.
Bucky took a swing from the beer glass and licked his lips from the excess foam that gathered around his lips. Absentmindedly, he nodded, looking around before speaking.
“Sharon Carter is here. She’s doing a dodgy business with some jocks, I don’t even know who they are. I don’t want to know. There are people involved.”
That made sense. Leah connected the dots and could hear the voice that she heard moments before; it definitely was the toxic blonde that hid more behind her fake smile, than one would have imagined.
“What are you thinking?” She searched for his eyes. He wouldn’t look at her at first, so she reached up with her palm to touch his cheek gently. It got his attention and made him return the look of concern, locking their gazes in a heavy stare.
“The short guy that Leah paid attention to, he invited Sharon Carter in. She was on the list, so, nothing out of ordinary here. Keep looking.”
Torres’s voice never did sound more annoying. Back to square one.
It was past midnight when they reunited with Sam. The whole evening, he was held up by senators and influential figures, all of which were stakeholders of the military programs. He fished for intel, for anyone to sell any lead as to why the Power Broker would want the US military to be involved in their business, but to no success. He made a few friends that potentially could spill a rare detail in the future, but nothing that would help them find the snitch during the party.
They waited out until the main show would slow down. Sam joined their private pity party with Dracula the bartender, and they just watched. A few people would come up to them to say their goodbyes, but Leah wasn’t even sure who they were. Her mind went on a road trip across the whole room again, scanning everyone and everything around. She was focusing so hard that the plastic straw she was holding, broke between her fingers. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and gently massaged her forehead.
“Hey, you alright?” Sam nudged her in the ribs, and then looked over her head at Bucky.
“Yeah. I’ve been feeling a lot, but never releasing it. It gets heavy.” She mumbled with a groan, closing her eyes for a second.
“You guys go upstairs for a while, get some quiet time. I’ll keep watching,” he nodded toward the exit. “Torres, you still there?”
“All eyes and ears, man.” The connection was still strong, but Joaquin was just quieter, probably more bored and tired with each passing hour.
“Alright. Keep us posted.”
Bucky stood up and took Leah’s hand, pulling her away from the dirty countertop and making her walk away with him. Some security guards nodded at them, almost as if they knew them personally. They stepped into the small elevator and waited patiently for the faulty door to close behind them. She then leaned into him, resting her forehead on his shoulder and letting out a heavy breath. He held her waist and massaged it gently, for reassurance. The elevator stopped at their floor with a little bell sound, and so they walked in silence into their suite.
They left the room clean, and it calmed her senses. They lit up all of the lights and pulled the drapes over the windows. Leah took off her high heels in the middle of the room, not caring about the mess she was leaving behind anymore. Her head was pounding with sudden silence that hit her mind. A shocking wave of unexpected peace made her shudder with relief. She threw herself onto the nearest bed, breathing in the softness of the mattress. She turned on her side to watch him move around the room; he took of his suit jacket and sat down at the couch across from her, legs spread wide comfortably, head resting on the back cushion.
The boiling power bubbled inside of her – her body always sought harmony. She did not use her power physically today, so the accumulated feelings were overflowing. Her eyes were shining with the icy blue hue, making her attention span shift significantly.
She crawled up from bed and slowly made her way to Bucky. He watched her carefully, trying to understand her and her needs. She climbed over his lap, hugging his hips with her thighs. Leah leaned in, resting her forehead on his, locking their gazes in a silent stare off. His hands wandered to her hips, holding her steadily, but lovingly. He massaged her body, trying to ease any discomfort that her body might feel. In return, she leaned down to kiss him on the lips sweetly. Their mouths moved in sync, creating a steady rhythm that started to sway their entire bodies. He knew what she needed and he was more than willing to help her out.
Cold, metal hand palmed her ass cheek. It easily brushed over the delicate material of the dress, making his fingers slip across her body with ease. He repetitively squeezed the firm flesh beneath her clothing, which made her move her hips in unison with his gentle pushes. His harsh tugs on her butt made her grind over his groin, earning a hearty moan out of her throat.
Tight dress slowly hiked up her ass and gave him easy access to the heat of her skin; he released it and quickly grabbed it again, catching it mid-jiggle and making a loud, slapping sound. She kept on moving her hips, feeling her core warm up and soak her panties. Sloppy kisses were interrupted by sudden breath intakes and impatient moans. The steady movement of her hips helped her find the growing bulge in his pants. When she started moving along its length, she let go of his lips with a smack and started kissing his cheek, jaw, and neck. Shamelessly grinding over him, she took a hold of the collar of his shirt and unbuttoned the very top of it. Leah sucked and bit lightly on his neck, not getting enough of the taste of his skin.
Bucky pulled at her panties and moved them to the side, dipping his hand between her ass cheeks and lower. She moaned loudly, feeling the slick wetness leave her core.
“Fuck, baby” Leah almost sobbed, feeling her powers tickle her nervous system. Each movement was more electric and bringing her greater ecstasy. She needed him to touch her, love her, kiss her, and fill her.
“What do you need, doll? Tell me.” He mumbled in between their hot kisses. They were all spit and tongue, teeth clashing when Bucky dipped a finger into her.
She whimpered, stilling her movements as he worked her up. She shook with the overwhelming feeling of pleasure and much needed release.
“Tell me, baby, what do you need?” He pulled out his finger and squeezed her ass.
Too stunned to speak, with shaky hands she reached down to his pants, doing her best to undo his belt and unzip it. She held up her hips to have easier access, fumbling with the zipper and quickly pushing her fingers through the waistband of his boxers. He stopped her by grabbing her wrists in one hand.
“Talk to me,” Bucky made her look down at him, scanning through each other’s faces with attention. “I’ll give you the world, but just talk to me. Just like you make me talk.”
Tears welled up in her eyes; she was overloaded with emotions; her mind powers took a toll on her and she just needed to release it. She couldn’t start shooting up her magic just because she felt like it, so she had to get rid of the heaviness of it all.
“I love you, James,” She kissed him on the lips and looked him straight in his blue orbs, making hers lit up. “I love you so much, and I need you to make me feel so good, that I can forget about everybody’s pain for a moment.”
He smiled with this warm, adoring expression. His face was sparklingly beautiful and looked only at her, nothing else.
           What happened next, neither of them expected. Leah was so focused on getting rid of her emotional overload, that she blocked everything else. The lights suddenly switched off, the room drowned in uneasy darkness.
           “Sam?” Bucky’s expression hardened, his arms held Leah tighter against his chest.
           “The power’s out here too. Joaquin, anything?”
           The only thing that Bucky could make out in the room were her eyes. They shone their delicate blue hue, grounding him in distress.
           “You have incoming from the main entrance. I can’t scan them, so brace yourselves.”
           “Are you gonna be okay?” He whispered to her, not sure how much of their conversation would be muted from Sam and Torres’s comms.
           She nodded rapidly, but did so while rapidly wiping at her cheeks. She was letting go of the feelings through heavy tears. Bucky held her by the cheeks and pressed a hard kiss to her lips.
           “I love you and I will take care of you, alright?” She nodded in understanding, but sniffed uncontrollably.
           They helped each other fix their clothing and blindly search for their weapons. Bucky left the room first, listening in to any sounds on their floor that would suggest any danger. Leah let the blue sparks circle around her fingers, ready to burst up in magical flames to protect them. She lit up the corridor with the blue swirls of energy and followed Bucky down the stairs.
           Leah stopped Bucky from leaving the staircase, pointing to the side where she could feel a few people running. They waited out the unwanted company and entered the ground floor, where they saw the backs of the group running away. The one person that turned their way for a split second was the tall blonde, clutching her gun tightly.
           “Sharon…” Leah mumbled, looking at her intently, and in disbelief.
           Bucky was already ahead of her, kneeling beside a body of a middle-aged man.
           “Torres, call 911. One man down.”
           “Two more near the bar.” Sam’s heavy voice resonated in their ears, and Leah couldn’t stop the incoming stream of awareness. She kept looking back to where Sharon disappeared into the darkness, feeling the surge of feelings left behind in the air. Her tired mind was swimming fast in the depths of her power, and it helped her understand:
           “She’s the Power Broker.”
_____
tagging: @real-jane
21 notes · View notes
twiceasfrustrating · 2 years
Text
OM Omegaverse - Satan (SFW)
Rating: Teen and Up
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: GN/M
Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Characters: Satan, Mammon
Additional Tags: omegaverse, fluff, headcanons and short fic, SFW edition
Summary: Sometimes, instincts take over.
Tumblr media
Satan is an Omega, much to his infuriation. Lucifer is an Alpha, after all, so it’s just another discrepancy between the two that has driven him mad for years.
Satan doesn't nest, not in the traditional sense at least. He rejects a lot of the tropes of being an omega so his nest is… well, he makes one but it usually ends up getting destroyed as soon as he realizes what he’s done.
As the only brother who was born a demon, he has control over his heat which is far better than the others. He uses his control to try and overpower his instincts, as he finds being driven by them to be unpleasant.
He is almost nearly 90% functional during his heats. He can still attend class, study, and take care of his other needs but the other 10% is constantly staring at the object of his affection (MC).
He’s more snippy and quick to anger when his heat hits and it gets worse the longer his heat goes. By the end, the sound of a dripping faucet is enough to set him off on a rage-fueled rampage.
He would really like to hold hands though (with MC). 
He fluffed the final pillow, carfully placing it down with the others before curling up in the pile he had made with his book. The library was quiet and calm in a way that no other place could possibly be.
That was until Mammon decided he needed to barge into his quiet sanctuary and ruin his moment of peace. “Satan, are ya in he- What’re you doing?” He asked as he was finally close enough to see just where Satan was hiding.
“Clearly,” he said without raising his eyes from his book, “I am trying to read. What do you need?”
“Yeah… If you’re gonna nest, can ya do it in your room?”
“Pardon me?” That statement was enough to finally make him pay attention.
“Ya know, I don’t get it but shouldn’t it be private?”
“I’m not nesting,” he said as his eyebrows furled and he stared up pointedly at his brother. There was murder in his gaze.
“Uhh, sure… Whatever ya say. I was just lookin’ for ya so I could… Ehh, I’ll ask Asmo instead since you’re busy.” With that, Mammon left as just quickly as he’d arrived.
Satan waited for the hurried footsteps to fade off somewhere into the distant background before taking a close look at where exactly he was; surrounded by pillows that he has subconsciously circled around himself to mark his space versus the rest of the world.
With a sigh, he carefully set down his book and picked up one of the pillows instead before tearing it in half. The fluff inside scattered around him and he swore he saw red before moving to pick up the next one and throwing it halfway across the room.
122 notes · View notes
Text
Veritaserum. James. whatever
Sirius Pov, genderfluid Sirius
Sirius honestly thought it was a good idea. Slip a little Veritaserum into James drink at dinner and see what happens.
She was just going to ask what he wanted for his birthday.
It wasn't until after that had been answered (A special edition copy of Alice in Wonderland) Sirius realised they had a problem.
As Remus dutifully reminded her, the effects of Veritaserum last for four hours.
Thankfully not much attention was on the Marauders that night as two Ravenclaws, Benjy Fenwick and Caradoc Dearborn, began very loudly protesting the rules against couples sharing a room- they'd been separated the previous morning. In the end their head of house decided it wasn't worth the headache and allowed the boys to remain together.
They snuck James back to the doom quickly while the ruckus was dying down. Nobody payed them any heed as they left. Save maybe for a few first years who idolised them above anything else.
They didn't tell James, of course. Peter didn't know either, but that was for convenience. Telling him would mean leaning across the table to whisper and risk James, sitting beside him, would find out anyway.
So, when Peter asked what was going on Sirius motioned to Remus to fill him in, choosing for herself the infinitely worse job of informing James.
At sixteen Sirius desperately hoped James had matured too much to curse her for her stupidity.
James sat on his bed and Sirius took a spot across from him on Peter's. "I have to tell you something." James blurted out, just as Sirius said, "We need to talk."
James smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, do you want to go first?"
Sirius nodded. Something told her James didn't need to tell her anything.
"The floor is yours, Mx. Black-Potter," Despite herself, Sirius grinned. "go ahead."
"Thanks." Her grin fell, "So me and Remus-"
"Don't bring me into this." Remus called harshly, cutting her off.
Sirius swore, "Fine. I learned to brew Veritaseum with Remus' help, but I swear, he is innocent-"
"She's not." Sirius scrubbed a hand down her face.
"We're getting there." James narrowed his eyes, "I slipped Veritaserum into your drink during dinner. Surprise!" Sirius closed her eyes in anticipation- surely James was going to hit her?
After what felt like forever, James grabbed Sirius arm and shook her gently. She opened her eyes and saw he was kneeling on the floor in front of her, "Sirius?" She nodded, "I'd never do that, okay?" Sirius blinked, then nodded slowly.
"However," He said, and Sirius knew she wasn't getting off scot-free, "I do want to know what in Merlin made you think that was a good idea."
"I came up with it on a "male" day?" James laughed,
"That'll do it." He shoved her shoulder. "Maybe run these ideas past Remus next time, huh?"
"Good idea." Remus called and they all laughed. Peter, who was oddly quiet until now perked up,
"What did you want to tell us before, James?"
Sirius clamped her hand over James' mouth, shooting Peter a death glare. "Is this something you actually want us to know?" She asked.
James considered it for a moment, then shook his head. Sirius nodded as she slowly took her hand away.
"Sorry James." Peter grimaced. He came to sit beside Sirius on his bed.
James chuckled, "It's no problem Pete, nothing important. Just private."
Sirius stood up, she dug in her pockets for the vial she nicked from Slughorn's office earlier in the day. Once she had a hold of it, offering it to James seemed like the most logical option. Remus was most likely to choose revenge and put it in her drink at the earliest chance and Peter would probably lose it within ten minutes.
So James.
She held it in the palm of her hand, "Here." Sirius held it out to him, "Better with you than me." James smiled as he took it. He slipped it into his cloak pocket.
"We just had a very domestic moment there, didn't we?" Sirius snorted, Remus laid a hand on her shoulder as he sat down, grinning.
James stood up, "Sorry but I'm very late."
Like the rabbit, Sirius thought.
"Late?" Remus asked. "For what?"
Sirius realised first, before James. "Wait-"
"I'm going to go to the astronomy tower and debate existence. Regulus might be there, he is sometimes. Most of the time." James face fell as soon as the words left his lips. He slowly began to back away from Sirius. She didn't move, or say a word for quite some time.
"Sirius?" Remus tried.
Then Peter, "Sirius, are you okay?"
Eventually James tried his hand. "You're freaking us out, Sirius."
It was then she just started laughing. Cackling almost like Mary when she's had too much to drink.
"It took Veritaserum for you to finally admit it?" She asked in between bouts of laughter, "I almost wanted to see just how long it would take you."
Sirius had known for weeks. Ever since Christmas- you couldn't stay in the same house as those two and not hear the creaking floorboards in the middle of the night, or hushed whispers in the shadows. She was hurt at first, because they didn't tell her.
It had been four months, Sirius didn't have it in her to be bitter anymore.
When she looked up James was still there, gaping. "Well? Don't keep my brother waiting Prongs."
James ran. Actually sprinted out of the room.
Peter looked like he was on the edge of fainting. Remus simply had an amused expression on his face, "How did you know?"
Sirius shrugged, "Darling, Sherlock Holmes is nothing compared to me."
6 notes · View notes
radioactivechoirboy · 2 years
Text
Where Have You Been? Ch 6
There was something about living in such a small town that made Mikhailo itch.
It wasn’t like it was the first time either. 
Shortly before he was born, in his last life, he had died on a rollercoaster in the same small town. 
He swore up and down that it was purely luck that brought him back to the same town, right around the same age, to go to the same school he went to.
He didn't know much, but he did know there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d join the choir again. 
He did his best to find some of his old friends, but he knew that some people were going to be dead ends. Talia and Jane- no, Penny, were going to be so much older than him now, so it was no use trying to reach out there. 
He did look though.
Talia appeared to drop off the face of the planet shortly after his own death. 
Penny’s accounts were all private, but she had plenty of posts, so he had to assume the best. 
He was able to find the rest of the choir easy enough, each of them seeming to have been brought back to where they started. He was just glad to see that all of them seemed to be doing well.
They all seemed happy.
And he was content to not get involved, to let each of his old friends live their new lives to the fullest, without having to be reminded of the lives they each had to let go of.
He couldn’t stop running into Clove though.
The week he had moved in with his cousin Inessa and found himself back in Uranium City, he was put in Poetry, the only empty elective class, and placed next to them. 
They’d write about their hopes and dreams, their pain and the secrets that weighed on their souls.
The basic idea was all too familiar to Mikhailo; he quickly found that the thin line between rap and poetry was a good beat. 
Clove sat next to him, passing their works to him for editing or general approval, which Mikhailo gave without hesitation. 
They hadn’t spoken since they left high school, and he didn’t try to force the bond farther than Grade 11 poetry,
Which is why it was almost funny to see a message notification pop up on his Grindr, for someone with the name Clove. 
Their profile said they were 19 and that was about the only detail given. 
He figured he’d humor the message, see what they wanted.
“I just moved into a new apartment, want to help me christen it” 
Mikhailo snorted at the message, thinking back to the tragic romantic he had once known. 
“Want to get lunch first,”  his fingers hovered over the keys, trying to decide if it would even be a good idea. 
He hit send. 
It took nearly two minutes before he got a response.
“I’m still unpacking, but if you want to bring dinner with you tonight, we could do that”
“Sounds like a plan, any request?”
“Bring whatever you like”
Mikhailo sat his phone down and thought about what going through with this would mean. 
For starters, it meant he’d lose his virginity to his closest friend, well, someone who was at one point his closest friend. 
He began to reminisce on their last life. The pizza nights where they sat a little too close to each other, the movie nights where Noel would steal his seat, only to be met with a 185 pound Ukrainian playing the part of a lap dog. How he tried to grab Noel’s hand when the rollercoaster went off its track. 
He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, swiping tears away before they could fall. 
Mikhailo didn’t often mourn the life he once had, but it stung from time to time. 
He decided to lay on his bed for a few minutes and watch tiktoks, a valid distraction from his own brain. It wasn’t until his phone vibrated with another notification from Grindr, that he finally checked the time. 
It was nearly five in the afternoon. 
“Just finished unpacking, I’ll send my address here in a few,” read the first message, followed quickly by, “If you haven’t already picked somewhere, can you get me something from Blackwood’s”
Mikhailo smiled at the screen. 
He then went to the website and placed an order for pickup since it was on the way. What better way to set the mood than vegan sandwiches and gluten-free brownies.
10 notes · View notes
afr0-thunder · 5 months
Text
[Poor Chronicles Pt. 21]
*STARBUCKS EDITION (the return)*
McDonald’s Wi-Fi glitches after you sign in once. I forgot how to troubleshoot it.
The cooking…this shit is hard. I was hoping I wouldn’t need a recipe or wouldn’t have to find a new cooking method…I may.
I made about 3-5 wings, only using olive oil. The first two, crispy, juicy, spicy, but not very flavorful. The seasoning did not do a great job. I was prepared, I sprinkled some parsley flakes and drizzled this “Buffalo” BBQ sauce that I grabbed last second.
The second two were crispy, nearly burnt, spicy and crunchy. Drowned out the over crisp with sauce. The olive oil was nearly completely black and had almost dried out. I was smoking up the house, but didn’t care. One of my housemate’s granddaughters was coughing from all the spice and smoke, so was she. I decided to open the back door.
One of the neighbors’ cat came to the door and was literally meowing and climbing to the screen trying to get in for about 5 to 10 mins, clawing at the door. I made a 5th wing. I took it out before it began to burn, the cat was clawing harder, I knew it had to be undercooked, but it looked brown. After the first bite, I knew it was undercooked. I spit that shit out immediately and threw it away. I seasoned about 3 and let it marinate overnight, no spice.
I decided olive oil would not be the best decision for today because the house still smelled like chicken and it could potentially fill with smoke again. I was skeptical because of the seasoning, but I decided to boil it anyway. It boiled in all the seasoning, but nearly all of it had mixed in the water. I didn’t like the smell, so I added a few spices. As all the water began to evaporate, I added the sauce for extra flavor. It cooked well to the point that the meat was falling off the bone. It was horrible, too much seasoning, very salty and oniony. I added more sauce, it drowned the tastes, but not enough. This method works, but last batch (4 wings) will determine if I’ll try traditional wings again and if I’ll every try not frying again. Will season when they thaw.
I’ve been thinking about this girl who I swore I’d never talk to again. Not anything to do with her, personal reasons, but I’m interested in this one thing (her pussy). We went to college together and she’s the only girl who I know actually lives in town. She messaged me after this party one time, but I was asleep. I was pissed when I realized who it was, the next morning. We’ve been on opposite schedules ever since. I’ve been thinking about giving her a nickname (SEXI). She’s been pissing me off. Last time we talked she said she was thinking about going to school again. The fuck kind of shit is that? Fucking nerd! Still skeptical on asking her to come here because she’s white and I’d have to be known as the one guy on this side of town who fucks white bitches. Enough on that.
Other than that, excited about getting phone service soon. I don’t know how I will go about my “social life”. Tempted to just do things by myself for fun. In need of stimulation. I went on tik tok for about 5 minutes earlier, this girl had the tiniest fucking waist. She didn’t turn around in the first 10 seconds like I expected, but she looked like she had the FATTEST ass in the back. Moderately stimulating. I need art though, like a museum or maybe a movie will do. I don’t know.
I don’t care if these are long. Tumblr does not have a character limit (or one that I can see myself exceeding if it does). I may not expand my following here, if someone finds it, that’s fine, I don’t wish to keep it private, but it should remain an app for those who cherish and enjoy it.
The Eagles and the 49ers took their first losses this season.
Chiefs, Bills, Dolphins, Ravens, Browns
Eagles, 49ers, Lions, Buccaneers. Only teams I see in the Super Bowl. Everybody else sucks.
In short, cooking is no easy task. Cats…apparently like raw chicken. You can tell yourself you don’t want many girls…but if you tell yourself you don’t want some pussy, you’re gay! I don’t care what part of the world you live in, it is not okay to fuck white bitches. No one cares if you have “hip dips” as long as you have a REALLY fat ass in the back. I may not even leave the crib, I might just fuck these bitches at home. I just don’t know if I want my housemate to hear this or know I fuck bitches. I do want to see some art or something interesting though.
- MH (2023)
[10/16/2023 - 3:52PM - Typed]
[10/18/2023 - 7:55PM - Posted]
I was contemplating waiting on posting this, but I thought, “Why not?”. I have Part 22 already, but that’s for another day (I also have 12%). I can’t spend my time creating an entirely new post. “Why isn’t this the ‘Mind’ series?”, I have delayed the series to start again at a later convenience, not anytime soon though, I don’t think. I also think this falls under the Poor Chronicles category more.
Savings: $100 > $135
(2nd) EDITS: [12/26/2023 - 8:01PM]
1 note · View note
koutawoo · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
☆ just an ace ☆ (taken from an age-old edit)
iphone 11 lockscreen + homescreen wallpapers [1792 x 828]
179 notes · View notes
studiojeon · 2 years
Text
bitterness in goodbye | jjk
this is part of my troubled outsiders series. sadly, you can't read this as a stand alone (meaning: feel free to check the previous parts ♡)
| summary | - You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.
warnings: none (?) i mean chaeryeong insults jungkook which is an atrocity in itself but-
contents: we diving into the angst my friends. jungkook is an innocent, kind hearted soul, i promise. oc's got the feels (out oct. 1) for jk. idol!jungkook × student!reader.
author's note: I EDITTED THIS FROM MY PHONE DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW FUCKING ANNOYING THAT IS? also, thank u for the amount of support i've been receiving lately, i appreciate everyone lots. feel free to ask away or suggest anything btw, i would love to write for any prompts you guys come up with. 💞💗💖💘💓💕
words: 1.57k
playlist: honey by halsey
Tumblr media
Four weeks later, the receptionist of your apartment complex hands you over a cardboard box with the hoodie Jungkook and you had talked about that day on the Han River. Jungkook kept pestering you to please please please send him your address for confidential purposes, which you knew had to do with his determination to literally provide anything that catches your eye right away. You assumed it was a sensitive topic for the boy whether people had purposefully taken advantage of his money before, so you didn’t dare to say anything when the man asked you for your size literally two hours after he dropped you off, scared to either reject his solidare intentions or piss him off for bringing unwanted memories back. In  your defense, your personality type keeps oscillating between INFP and INFJ so it’s only natural that you take extra care to make sure those around you have as much peace of mind as possible in your presence. 
As pretty and comfortable the piece of soft clothing is, an important factor is missing, something that you can’t recreate buying two of the same size and color, and that is Jungkook's escence and how good it looks on him in comparison to anyone else in the world. Meaning, you didn’t like it as much as you thought initially would. And it absolutely did not have to do with the fact that your short stature made you look like a toddler who stole their dad’s jacket.
Still, in order to show Jungkook how much you appreciate his gift, you bring it to work the next day, and the rest of the days after that, with the excuse that with winter rolling around you needed something to keep you warm in the office. Jungkook doesn’t miss the opportunity to confirm your assumptions regarding your appearance whenever he barges into your office randomly throughout the week, arguing that ”you look so adorable” and doesn’t stop for two weeks more, until he gets used to seeing you wearing something you shared with him. Which doesn’t help ease your growing romantic feelings for him whatsoever.
Because yeah, you liked Jeon Jungkook, just like every human being with eyes and sexual desires, except, you didn’t just like him in a superficial way, and that’s where the problem with him resides. Though you are sure everyone has fallen in love with the endearing boy at some point - especially the excluded and invalidated women of society - you can’t help but place some blame on you for allowing yourself to be swooned so goddamn easily. Your mom had said to you at some point to be wary of the way some men would talk to you when you grew up, their intention usually being getting inside your pants, which has happened to you more times than you'd like to admit. And with the argument that she knew you better than anyone, she claimed you would comply right the second someone talked sweet to you; you despised the fact that was the case with Jungkook (and Jungkook only), although he had never shown any sexual innuendos. What your feelings could do to your relationship with Jungkook and your rather chill lifestyle scared you to death, shiver me timbers and all that shit, having romantic feelings for someone else is embarrassing, especially when your chance with them has been scratched out the second you laid eyes on them.
Jungkook sits on your couch, legs spread on your thighs as you two pretend to watch some series on netflix. “I don’t buy for a second the act you’re putting on right now.” he speaks randomly after staring at your deep-in-thought state for a few minutes and laughs when you snap at him for not letting you overthink in peace. “What’s going on?”
Truth is, you don’t fucking know. A few hours before he arrived at your place (you had to pick him up at the dorm and sneak the both of you through the subterranean parking lot, because god forbid someone saw Jungkook arriving at some chick’s dorm on a saturday afternoon) you swore you would be able to conceal whatever emotional turmoil you had going inside of you without compromising your regular behaviour around the man, but when push comes to shove, it’s impossible to keep yourself from wondering how far you could go before that special someone found out what was going on inside of your head.
Jungkook’s phone rings in his pocket with some annoying tone he had downloaded illegally from youtube the same day the company had handed over the device as a gift for him (you still were a little bitter over how they neglected the rest of the staff but you also knew it was kind of impossible for the human kind to just gift a-thousand-dollar-phones to almost five hundred people out of solidarity). “Hyung?” he picks up, still wary of your unusual behaviour, concerned eyes looking at you. “No, uh- i’m with Yugyeom right now.” and your heart shatters into a million pieces.
You have been suspecting for a while that Jungkook is being hesitant to introduce you to his social circle. Although, you’ve tried your best not to take it personal, it is getting harder to resist the urge to ask him what the fuck is up with that. The fact that Jungkook had to lie about the person he was hanging out with broke your ego; he could’ve just said he was with a friend, right? You suddenly feel like you’re fifteen again, when the guy you liked would love you in the dark but pretend he didn’t know you in the light. 
Holding your tears back, you gently push him off and make your way towards the bathroom in the most nonchalant way you could. This is your fault for falling for the nice popular guy in the first place, you remind the reflection staring back at you. Still, as bad as it hurt, there was no way you were going to cry over a stupid boy, let alone when he was literally sat on the next room. He can go fuck himself if he thinks he can just toss this behind as if nothing ever happened.
You text Chaeryeong instead.
“chaery bom bom: i swear to god i gonna throw hands the next time i see the bitch.
chaery bom bom: like who the hell does he think he is? fucking squidward looking asshole.
chaery bom bom: he ain’t even that cute bub, you’ll get over him. i know jinyoung wouldn’t treat you like this”
You sigh. Chaeryeong has been enamored with the idea of you and his former company colleague from GOT7 since the day she met the guy (which was somewhere around ten years ago), and although he was all that, you didn’t like his quiet and cold aura, it intimidated the fuck out of you (Jungkook was the entire opposite of that).
You spray on some perfume just to have an excuse as to why you randomly ran to the bathroom when Jungkook’s inquiring eyes stare as you sit back on the couch, which is exactly what he does. “You done with your call?” you ask, bitter.
Jungkook frowns, a bit taken aback by the sudden question but still unaware of the way his words had made you feel, not even sensing the hostile change in your mood. “Yes, it was one of our managers. He was wondering if I could come back to reshoot some...-thing.”
Okay, now you kind of understand as to why he lied in the first place and to say you feel guilty is an understatement. “I supposed he backed down once you mentioned you were hanging out with Yugyeom.” playfulness makes its appearance on your tone and Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, tongue poking on the inside of his slightly red cheeks.
“Sorry for that” he moves closer and cuddles your arm, like a sad guilty puppy. “It’s just- I don’t want them asking questions''.
You understand. He is a very reserved and private person after all. It took you a bit to crack him open yourself. Plus, you kind of share that trait with him, you’d hate it too if people were constantly on your nerves for the people you decide to hang out with. 
And that’s all it takes to forgive him. Not very cash money of you.
“You better not pull that shit again, though” you shift in his hold and he looks up at you. One look into your eyes and he knows what you mean. “I’ll kick you out.”
After nodding, Jungkook resumes his concentration on the series you picked out for him. Due to your short attention span, you are very picky about what you invest your time in, especifically with audiovisual pieces of media, so Jungkook trusts you whenever you recommend something on very rare occasions. As a matter of fact, Jungkook was busy attacking your kitchen counters for snacks (which you didn’t have) when you mentioned Money Heist. “Munch on some grapes instead” you suggested to soothe his disappointment.
You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.
164 notes · View notes