#anyway how do i get to be the bar rag over his shoulders

[tojisun]

i would loveeee to see what was like the first time simon and reader were like.. together uhum fucked…. like after they went out of the bar that they met at, yk what i mean??? my english is shit im so sorry but i loveeee how you write simon, soft and full of love 😫💞

HI ANON OMG ITS BEEN YEARS SINCE THIS ASK!! im so sorry for how late im replying :(( and no omg ur english is good, pls dont apologize for it ^v^ and thank u so so much ahhhhh <33

prev (context of the ask) // biker!simon mlist

!! smut - minors dni; praises (might be a kink but its def just simon being in luv); purity kink n dumbification but only if u squint hard; unrealistic sex (cervix penetration); female reader

simon parks the car – johnny’s old dodge; fixed it up using scraps from the shop – in front of his place, silent as he listens to you breathe. you’ve been shivering since the entire ride, quiet puffs of your breath only breaking through when simon’s playlist lapses into silence.

he’s been eyeing you from the corners of his eyes ever since you two left the bar, watching as you played with the loose thread on your sweater, eyes darting between him and the expansive road. he licks the back of his teeth, unclenching his jaw to speak, only, you beat him to it.

“wanna kiss you,” you say, so soft that it almost gets drowned by the rising crescendo of the guitar rift rumbling from the speakers.

simon’s breath hitches, the grip he has on the steering wheel tightening, and he turns as you do, your shy gaze trailing from his fists to his eyes. there’s a spark somewhere there, an instant shift that has simon changing his gait, body rippling and before he knows it, he’s reaching out towards you.

you meet him halfway, body getting jostled until you freeze when the seatbelt snaps. simon takes over, reassuring as he brushes your hair away from your face, sure fingers trailing to click at the holster so that he can finally tug you close.

you clamber to his lap with his help, trembling legs going over the cup holders before settling on top of him, mindful of the horn. simon catches you anyway, big hands spanning your back, ghosting touches along your spine.

he feels your back quiver as you breathe in, memorizing the way you feel in his touch, on his lap, emitting warmth that tickles his skin. he stares at you for a moment, letting his heartbeat settle. then, he presses forward to catch your lips.

you gasp his name, a soft little thing that makes his lungs constrict. he holds you close, steadies you on top of him, slotting his lips easily against your own. your fingers fist his shirt, bundling the fabric tight, and simon groans when you melt on top of him, a pleasured sigh filtering through, splintering into the air, before being devoured by simon’s greed.

he nips at your lips, his tongue slick as it slide against yours, and it’s all too warm, too feverish, too good. and all parts not enough.

the clack of teeth echo in his ears, ringing so loudly, ripping him into needy shreds. you two separate with a whimper. simon blinks his eyes open, catching the way you chase his lips, your own throbbing and wet and plump.

“shit, baby,” he whispers and dives into you again, unable to stop himself.

smaller hands rove over his body, rubbing from his elbows to grip his shoulders, and settling atop his head to fist the strands of his hair. he growls at the first pull and it leaves you putty in his arms, swaying your hips like molten caramel – languid and tantalizing.

he needs more. desperately.

he breaks the kiss again, nuzzling his nose on yours in apology when you whined, and murmurs, “wanna take this inside?”

simon hears the ragged drag of your breath and feels the jostling of your head as you nod.

he hums. “use y’r words, sweetheart.”

“please,” you reply instantly. “i want to. take this inside, i mean.”

simon presses a quick kiss on your lips as a reward. “of course,” he says, gentle as he tugs you closer to him. “let me take care of you, yeah?”

-

you hiccup at the first slide of his cock, gentle and tentative as it strokes past the fluttering lips of your dripping pussy, and presses in between your plush walls. you cry, burying your head on the pillows, feeling full even when simon’s cock isn’t even fully in yet.

the bulbed head breaches further, carving out space for his thickness, and you go taut, breathing raggedly, tongue dry and wet at the same time. distantly, you hear simon curse, lilted litanies of your name spilling from gritted teeth.

you feel your heart beat in staccato, pounding within the cages of your ribs at the realization that he’s feeling the same way – devoured by the intensity of your bodies matching up. you push your hips back to him, eating up more of his length, and simon’s hold on your waist gains strength, stopping you from moving any more.

it’s not like you can, not with the way your arms snap underneath the weight of your body and pleasure, and you tip into the sheets, a cry spilling from your lips. simon pauses, one of his hands leaving your waist to let his warm palm glide along your back. his touch tickles the ridges of your shoulder blades before he presses down on the valley along your spine.

he’s everywhere, it seems – deep in you, warm against your back. you don’t know what it is but it makes you sob, crashing desire razing from the base of your neck to the tips of your toes.

“shh, my love,” simon whispers, his voice ragged and thick with his own desire. “y’r doin’ so amazing for me. so beautiful. so delicate.”

you whimper, tilting your head to the side as you gasp in a breath. you try to reply but your tongue feels so heavy and your mind is blank. it is only filled with a deafening static and simon.

simonsimonsimon.

it’s all so much. it’s still not enough. it’s a miasma of carnality – ever so expanding now that you’ve got a taste of it.

simon kisses the back of your head. “can y’take all of it f’r me?”

all of it? all of him?

he’s not- he’s not fully in yet?

you garble a reply, a mix of yes and please and simon’s name. simon, in return, peppers kisses on your back and murmured words on the trembling rise of where your lungs are. he holds you again, his hands leaving your waist to wrap your fists with his warm touch instead, and it makes you swoon, unintelligible cooing noises tumbling from your lips and into the space between.

the moment simon sinks himself deep, his pelvis hitting the flesh of your ass, you keen, drawn out and long. tears trickle from your eyes and drool spill from the corner of your lips, staining his pillow. but it doesn’t matter because simon, big and filling simon, ruts his hips once, twice, three times, before he’s pulling out again.

“si-!” his name dies on your tongue when simon snaps his hips back, his cock sliding into your pussy and breaching your tight walls again. you scream, a broken cry of your pleasure ripping itself from your throat.

simon doesn’t let up, doesn’t stop – why would he? it feels so good!

sogoodsogoodsogood!

“so tight f’r me,” you hear him rumble, his lips close to your ear. he sounds so drunk in his pleasure. so drunk in you. “so good, lovie.”

“feel where i am hittin’?” he thrusts in harder, kissing somewhere deep, the thick head snug in your cunt. “feel me ‘ere?”

simon punches in his cock again, the weight of his balls slapping against your cunt, and you realize. god you realize what it is he’s hitting.

you squeal, slick gushing along the length of his cock, pooling along the wet lips of your pussy, slicking you two even more.

“yeah,” simon laughs, nipping along your neck. “s’your cervix, isn’t it, love?” he ruts his cock deep again when he says this, exchanging his fast thrusts for slow humping, making you feel every inch. every press.

you sob, nodding because yes, yes it is!

simon croons, nosing along your hair, breathing you in. “y’r takin’ me so well. takin’ me so greedily. y’r so precious, lovie. so perfect, so beautiful.”

his words slur together as he gets lost to his own pleasure, sinking into the euphoria engulfing him. you moan, choked squeals of his name lolling out of your babbling mouth. you feel untethered. floaty. you feel so full and so stuffed, your belly fluttering at every deep kiss of simon’s cock.

you feel so-

“simon! si- ah!- si! si!”

the spray of your squirt falls on your unhearing ears, a stuttering white buzz that fills your mind muffling everything that isn’t simon’s cock and your pleasure. simon curses from behind you, his face falling to the crook of your neck again, shaking as he fucks you harder and faster, sporadic thrusts turning into shallow pumps as he chases his own peaking pleasure.

and you take it. you take it like the good girl he told you that you are, limp and overstimulated, because simonsimonsimon.

-

from: soap (02:13)

> so i dropped off your bike :D

> may have heard you fucking your date.

> how are your neighbours not calling to complain?

to: soap (06:23)

remind me to block your number. <

WHEW!! not my best work :(( but i enjoyed writing this holy shit??

tagging: @babygirl-riley @teehee-47 @comeonatmebruh

#suns.f #biker!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #anon #ask #suns #kicking my legs bc i love smut trope like this

[getodrools]

𐙚 DIFFERENT POLES: TOJI FUSHIGURO!

IN WHICH, step dad! toji was snooping around and found your personal items! and toji takes the chance to blackmail you for being a stripper – with shameful lap dances in return for keeping your little secret…

I 𝓲. I MDNI ୨୧ f! stripper! reader. dub con (coercion). step cest. blackmail mention. age gap (reader: early 20s, toji: late 40s). manipulation. lap dance turned to riding. slight praising + degrading. humiliation. dacryphilia. size difference. overstimulation. cervix/womb fucking. non con creampie. orgasm denial. | WC –> 1.1k+ est ! !

NOTE. this is a repost from my old blog !! :p

“please… don't tell mom.”

was the first thing you could muster up through fat tears. the embarrassment was flamming at a rise in the pit of your tummy when your step-father found your secret stash — not asking why he was even going through your panty drawer in the first place, too caught up on the fact he was holding your intimate stripping items with his bare hands.

you remember how he heavily sighed too, the deep shame in his voice was guttural, “i’m so disappointed in you… but i won't,” you also remember thinking you were actually off the hook; hiccuping through slowing tears ‘till leafy eyes hooded into deep sets, “only if you show me what you do.” and even when toji sparked up a slimy smirk, you remember how he stuffed his back pocket with your panties as anew tears began.

…

“fuck, they must really love you.” his words only add to the stinging humiliation – just how the cracking swats laying firm against the globes of your ass ache. and you could only claw at the broad shoulders ahead of you as a safe haven.

“don't get all shy. show me that slutty face-- show me those pretty ‘fuck me eyes’ of yours.” toji was cruel, battering your ass into his vice; squeezing and groping the tender skin ‘till the jiggly flesh molded out from between his fingers, forcing your face to tighten and eyes to peel back.

“toji!—”

“what? scared i’ll destroy your money maker?” you never knew how slimy your stepfather could get, watching how that silvery scar rises with a filthy smirk.

“fuck me. i’m too hard just to get fucking rubbed on.” your saliva thickens in your throat, feeling a twist in your stomach at his harsh and crude, sudden words.

the fleeting idea of fucking a man you call ‘father’ was wrenching, but feeling the thick print throbbing beneath you and the scare of your mother finding out hanging above your head, you slid your panties over the fat of your folds.

“good girl. bet they pay you lots for this-- how many gross men paid my pretty daughter for her pussy, huh?” toji gruffs out with no shame while adjusting his pants ‘till the fat pole of his meat spurred out.

you try hard to ignore the vulgar, spitting comments he spews out with, but watching how the older man worked his length with a sharp twist and panted at your body hovering over his to saddle against, you couldn't help but feel the moistened walls of your cunt flutter in shame.

“well, that don't matter now. i got a family discount.”

where was the shame anyways?

the oozing pre-drooling from the fat tip of his cock reminded you there wasn't any as you sucked in a deep breath to behest his throbbing length.

lined sweat crossing your forehead glistens as you settle your folds against the crown of his cock; dropping yourself to sheath around his more than nth-inch bitch-breaker into your pussy, feeling your walls stretch in vigor – an almost pain crowded but itched a deep sense of pleasure.

toji was thick, and he knows it too, watching how breathless you got stuffing yourself like a rag doll.

yet, he couldn't care, still holding that scare above your head and laid further back, soaking in the snug warmth your cunt blankets around him with. he lets out a breathy groan and cranes his head back while you suck in your bottom lip to chew on at the invasive fill.

you ignore how your stepfather never lets go of you barring hips, almost forcing them to roll tenderly against his with fervor. impatient he was, he squeezes at soft flesh to lean you – a position to let his cock piston up into your spongy walls with battering shock.

you gasp.

eyes peeling back wide at the barreling fill of his cock punching deep into your core mercilessly.

toji’s fist-sized balls bump against your ass with muffled claps at each thrust and you could only lean into his chest as a safe haven; clinging to his broad shoulders as trembling legs buckle around his, letting the older man fasten the sweaty work into his own hands. his rhythm was found quickly – a pace that was unrelenting and sharp; an immediate start-up of frantic fucking.

toji had the feeling of stuffing you balls deep pass through him like a sixth sense — as if he knew prodding at your cervix would make you drool, and he kept at it.

keeping you close with his cock powering through you and adding a strong edge to every buckle and jab into your sweet tightness, he hits at your cervix with the strength of one. the fleshy taut barrier concaves around his cockhead each time, forcing your eyes to bubble up in tears; tears of rather intense pleasure comprising with the mix of delicious pain. and the fast pressure applied to your sensitive perk forces your insides to respond by roiling around his cock, but crocodile tears  wasn’t enough to slow toji – not at all, only making the man closer to cumming.

but feeling tight walls spasm around his working cock, he froths knowing that sensation of a women – the longing feel of a high about to spatter a filthy mess against him, and he slows his hips, rocking them ever so slightly ‘till you catch the sense of reality back.

you almost whimper at the, almost, complete stop.

“your pussy was squeezing me, ‘bout to cum, huh?” clenching your eyes at the dirty truth, you shamelessly nod in hopes he'd run the engines again.

“no cumming for you. bad girls don't get good things, so finish me off.” toji keeps his vice around you and watches dearly how your eyes drop from hoods to doey sets.

“get to it. your mother comes home in ten minutes or so.” your senses click back from his gruff words, and you hadn’t realized how you were about to cum all over your stepfather's cock in minutes.

the growing sense of being impatient was heading for you, and the sense of being caught was looming right above your head – a guilt growing to fuck yourself like a toy in excuse…

choking up a sob, you keep the throbbing cock poking deep into your cunt, practically feeling the capped-tip kiss at your womb as you sat firmly into his thick lap. your father finally frees his bruising grip and lays his hands to the side nonchalantly, now letting you take charge — in a sense.

your hips roll against his in pure ardor, driving the breath from your own lungs in a single rush for a rhythm as gravity went to work; breast bouncing and panted moans falling. fucking the sopping heat of your cunt with broad strokes and harsh jabs that make your pussy writhe, you can even feel the dark pricks of hairs tickling at your clit; softly rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“better at riding dick than your mom.” he adds to the filth with no warning. purely enjoying ridden flesh sinking into embarrassment as sopping folds go obscenely wide in acceptance of his cock.

with full-bodied strokes — putting your all into it; every line and inch of flesh tensing hard as you rail yourself out. almost making a mess above him as toji felt his balls swell and cock fill out from it's aching knot; pleasure rising, the heat in each of your loins building to unthinkable heights.

toji gave no warning, again.

face tightening as toji moaned wordlessly as the thick slab of heavy meat burbs out spurts of liquid warmth into the deep core of your womb. you feverishly moan out in disgust, feeling the ropes of rich baby-batter paint into your teaming depths, slathering against the entrance of your womb and globbing out as you jump up and crawl away in notion fear.

“did you just cum in me?!” you groan at the side as toji’s dick still spurt out dribbles of white goo, “you're sick! i’m your daughter!” with the whiplash of your head, you only lock gazes with lazy green eyes that look at you no different.

you swallow up your words.

“anyways. if you're so worried, then you better hurry up n’ get your ass washed. your mom just pulled into the driveway.” toji looks over from your bedroom window, seeing a black car rolling in and parking…

<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE TOJI –>

#🌐 𝐿𝒜𝒱𝐼𝐼 𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒯𝐸𝒮! #ᝰ toji fushiguro! #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen #tw dub con #tw coercion #tw dacryphilia #tw age gap #tw size difference #tw step cest #toji smut

[dannyphantom-zero]

Doctor Danny Chapter 5 Stay-cation

Jason glanced at the couch as he made breakfast. Huddled inside a blanking was Danny with nothing but his pouting face exposed.

Jason shook his head. The doctor would run himself ragged at this point. Getting all upset because he couldn't go to work.

Danny was gradually getting hungrier by the second. Jason walked over with two plates with eggs and bacon on them.

"Made some breakfast" Jason said circling the plate near Danny's face. The smell was making Danny pissed off. He wanted to eat it but he didn't like the way Jason was so smug about it.

Eventually Danny broke down and had to open up his blanket to receive the plate.

"How is it?"

Danny scowled at Jason, "it's good" he muttered before shoving more food in his mouth and chewing angrily.

Jason couldn't believe how cute this doctor could be.

"Try some of this" Jason said handing Danny a glass.

Danny looked at Jason hesitantly. Danny brought the cup up to his lips and took a big sip.

A sweet liquid filled Danny's mouth, it left a tart aftertaste.

"What is this?" He asked looking at Jason with stars on his eyes.

"It's wine that I made when I visited a brewery a while ago" Jason picked up a napkin and gently wiped Danny's mouth.

Danny was too embarrassed to think.

"D-do you want some ectoplasm?!" He blurted out before thinking.

"If you want to, yes"

Jason was acting strange, why was he being shy and complacent all odt he sudden??

Danny crawled across the couch to Jason. He put his hands on Jason's shoulder to steady himself and bit Jason's neck.

A calm feeling washed over Jason as he closed his eyes. He felt disconnected and tingly. Danny was the opposite. Whenever he did this he felt like he was drinking pure energy.

"Mm" Jason's eyebrows furrowed. Danny let go.

"Better?"

Jason opened his eyes.

"Yeah, thanks"

Jason and Danny watched a few movies. Danny was talking about a character when his phone interrupted him.

Danny glanced at it casually. His eyes grew big.

"SAM!" Danny squeaked as he answered.

"Hey Danny, my band is performing tonight at the mike bar, you know the one right?"

"The usual one right?"

"Yeah, anyway we lost the lead singer so to a sore throat and we desperately need a replacement. I know how good you can sing and you play guitar so, please help me!"

Danny peered at Jason.

"Sure, I'll be right there" Danny hung up.

"Where are you going?"

"A bar nearby, I have to help out a friend"

Jason stood up and grabbed an extra jacket for Danny.

"Jason? Your coming too"

"Your still on the run remember"

Danny smacked Jason's shoulder.

"Don't say it like that! You make it sound like I'm running from the law!" Danny chastised.

Jason shrugged, "Batman isn't easy to shake off"

Danny crossed his arms.

"I already knew that, but I don't think he'll randomly bother me. He's gotta have a life too right?"

Danny got a bad feeling about the face Jason was making.

"You'd be surprised" Jason groaned.

They made it to the bar without running into to any issues. Danny stepped in and started looking around. This bar has a rustic vibe to it before but now it looked like a goth den.

Maybe it was because Sam's band was performing today but there seems to be a lot more goths than usual.

"Danny!" Sam exclaimed hugging him.

"Hey Sam, how have you been, it's been so long"

Sam grinned confidently and pointed her thumb towards her band mates who were setting up.

"My bands been doing pretty well"

Sam punched Danny's arm, "but hey can't believe my little delinquent is a famous doctor now"

Danny waved his hands.

"Sam! Don't talk about that on public!"

Jason put a hand on Danny's shoulder.

"Oh, who are you?" Sam asked.

"He's a friend of mine" Jason growled.

"R-right, Jason and I became friends recently."

Sam grabbed Danny's arm, "well sorry Jared but I'm going have to steal Danny for a bit"

Sam gave Jason a cold look, "not that it's really stealing since he isn't yours"

Danny send an apologetic look at Jason before being dragged off. Sam took Danny to the male bathroom.

"Here, change" she ordered thrusting clothes at him.

Danny didn't have time to object.

His eyes bugged out when he put on the clothes.

"What kind of clothes are these?!" He exclaimed.

He was wearing a black button shirt that was open in the back with an x strap, it also had three spikes jutting out on each shoulder. His pants were black jeans with rips and chains hanging along the side.

His shoes had been swapped for boots and on his hands he wore fingerless, fake leather gloves.

"You look almost perfect!" Sam said once Danny stepped out feeling dazed.

"Sit and stay still"

Danny sat on the stool and let Sam apply mascara to his eyes. It deepened his eyes, making him look like a real goth. A hot one at that.

"Your stage name should be...."

"How about Runner?" Danny suggested.

"Huh,Runner? Sure I guess it works"

Danny helped set up his mike. Sam let him use the spare electric guitar they had.

"Alright, you guys ready?" Sam asked, the band mates shouted in unison.

Jason waited impatiently for the Danny to make an appearance.

The band started up and Danny stood up to the mike.

"3,2,1-"

The band started playing, Jason watched Danny sing and play. He seemed so different from the doctor Jason knew.

The crowd was cheering as the band played. It had a pop rock vibe to it, the songs were catchy and Jason had to admit he liked the band.

Danny smiled and waved after the band finished their last song.

"Let me help you pack up" Danny said as he stuffed the equipment in Sam's bus.

"Thank you so much Danny! Who knew you still had in you!" Sam said laughing.

"Danny"

He turned to see Jason standing a few paces away.

"Hey Jason"

"You were really good up there"

Danny grinned.

"Really?"

"When you sang o felt my heart racing"

Danny laughed, "your funny Jason, but really it was all Sam. Her band is really great"

Sam playfully ruffled Danny hair.

"Yeah that's right, I'm awesome I know" Sam boasted.

"We should probably head back" Jason said.

"Head back, did you come from the same place?"

Danny seemed flustered.

"Yeah, Danny spent the night with me"

Danny was quick to clarify that he apartment had been broken into and Jason let him spend the night.

Though he could tell by Sam's face that she was thinking they were romantically involved.

When Danny got back he plopped onto the couch.

"You hungry?" Jason asked.

"A little" Danny said yawning.

'cute' Jason thought.

They ate and Danny passed out soon after.

The next morning Jason woke up to a note from Danny saying he had gone to work.

Jason had troed texting Danny alter that night but had gotten no response.

This went on for a couple days and later when Dick met up with Jason he could tell something was wrong.

"Hey, you look way too depressed, even for you"

Jason just drank.

"Come on, let it out"

Jason clenched his fist.

"I think I made someone mad"

Dick raised an eyebrow. Jason made people mad every day, there had to be more to this.

"This person started avoiding me, isn't answering my calls or texts and hasn't come back to my apartment-" Jason said too much.

"Ooh, romance problems huh?"

Jason groaned, "I wish, we aren't even dating. I've never been more frustrated"

"Maybe this person is just really busy, did you seem to be on good terms?"

"Yeah, I mean, he's a doctor so I guess he could just be busy but..."

Dick eyes lit up, a doctor? And a male one at that. Could it be-

"Do you have a crush on the famous doctor Fenton?"

Jason blushed furiously.

"It's not a crush!"

So he did.

"Why don't you visit him in person if your so worried?"

Jason sighed, "I don't want to bother him, besides I don't think he likes me back"

"There's only one way to find out you know"

And that's why Jason was currently waiting outside of Gotham General. He wasn't sure how long he had waited but a tap on his shoulder jolted him out of his thoughts.

"Jason, why are you here?"

He shrugged and turned his head away so Danny couldn't see him blushing.

"You weren't answering my calls or texts so I came to see you myself"

"Ah" that's right, Jason was a stalker. How could Danny forget.

"Right well I should probably get going" Danny said as he opened his car door.

Jason shut it and didn't take his hand off the door.

"Jason?"

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you, I'm just tired and I want to go home" Danny said turing away.

"I'll take you" Jason said.

In one deft movement Jason had picked up the lanky doctor and put him in the passenger side.

"What?" Danny said confused.

"You said your tired, so I'll drive"

Danny looked at Jason's face, he seemed anxious.

"H-hey, this isn't the way to my apartment." Danny said.

"Your apartment isn't safe, I'll take you to mine"

"What? Why? It's not your business if my apartments not safe"

"Your my friend Danny, I don't want you to get hurt"

"This isn't the way a friend acts!" Danny said. Jason had stopped at a red light giving Danny the perfect window to escape.

He unbuckled and slipped from the car. He started running. Jason had been acting weird, too weird. If I kept up Danny wasn't sure what he might do and he was afraid to push Jason away.

They were just friends! He really didn't want to make Jason uncomfortable but now everything was ruined.

Jason clenched his teeth. He found a secure place and parked Danny's car.

He made Danny run away! He was stupid!

Jason did his best tracking down Danny. Finally he spotted someone walking alone.

"Danny!" The person turned their head and it almost looked like they were crying.

Suddenly he started running again.

Jason caught up to him and grabbed him from behind holding him in a tight hug.

"Why are you running from me?" Jason asked in hurt pleading tone.

"Because-" Danny suddenly cut off, "batman" he said weakly.

"Batman?" Then Jason saw him.

"Crap, come on" Jason said tugging Danny with him as they ran, wearing in between stores.

They ended up on the roof of a quick-mart.

"Did we lose him?" Danny asked panting.

"Yeah I think-"

"No"

Jason fired his grappling hook, at the same time Danny almost tripped. Before they knew it, they were trapped, tangled up together and hanging off the side of the building.

"Shit" Jason said softly.

Bruce pulled them up and Jason untangled himself from Danny.

"Can't you just let the poor man go?" Jason asked.

Danny sighed and stepped up.

"It's alright Jason, I'll take responsibility for my actions."

Danny held out his hands to be cuffed.

"I'm not taking you to jail" Batman said.

Danny dropped his arms, "huh? Your not?"

"Your not?" Jason asked.

"No. However Jason and I seem to need have a talk."

"Then why were tracking Danny down"

"Your always together"

Jason was taken aback at Bruce's abruptness.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Come to the manor, well discuss there"

Jason cursed after the bat had left.

"What a dick seriously, how dare he do that to you!"

"It's really fine Jason, come on. Let's go, he's probably waiting for you"

Jason shrugged.

"Just don't jump out the car this time"

Danny promised not too and they drove up to the manor. When they got there, Danny noticed a butler waiting at the entrance.

"Welcome master Jason and his friend"

#dpxdc #danny phantom #danny fenton #dc universe #batman #redhood #fanfiction #jason todd #phandom #Sam Manson

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Sweet Like Sugar (Tattoo Artist!Geto x Black!Bimbo!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Geto Suguru x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which Geto gets paid a pleasant surprise at his tattoo shop when his favorite, cute little bimbo client comes to visit one night on his birthday to cover her ex's tattoo.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Dom!Geto; sub!Reader; Bimbo!Reader; Reader is Black & Fem; Sexual Tension; Stripping; Oral; Deepthroat; Multiple Positions (Doggystyle, Fucking Standing Up; One Leg Up; Cowgirl); Body Worship; Dick Piercing; Mild Pain Kink; Unprotected PIV; Cum on Ass

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: A very happy birthday to my BABYYYYY!! I wrote this as a quick something to celebrate the special day & because tattoo artist!Geto has been burning a hole in my head AND my p*ssy. Enjoy! -Jazz

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It’s his birthday and he’s working late. 

Not that he would’ve chosen differently. Geto doesn’t mind working late. Anything he can do to increase the popularity of his beloved tattoo shop, he’ll do it. He’s had this shop for over six years now ever since he graduated from art school and claims it as the reason for his career. Plus, celebrity popularity. 

Ever since he tattooed Rihanna on one of her world tours, he’s tattooed many other popular figures in music which gained him more traction. He can’t be happier with the booming business, even when it is on his birthday. He’s never been the type to make a big deal about the day he was born, so working on inking up people’s bodies and scheduling appointments never bothered him. It does, however, bother Gojo. 

“C’mooon, Sugu,” he whines, using the nickname he’s called Geto since high school. “You’ve been in this sad little shop since 8 in the morning! Let’s go out for drinks. It’s your birthday, after all.” 

Geto, currently bent over his station cleaning off his ink needles and machinery in time for the next appointment at 8 PM (the shop closes at 9, but he lets the guy squeeze since it means more money), rolls his eyes. “7, actually,” he says. “And you know that the bars are packed tonight, Satoru. It’s Saturday. We can go during the week though.” 

Gojo whines again as he shrugs on his coat and pops on his glasses that Geto thinks make him look like one of the three blind mice. “You’re so boring,” he sighs. “Why do I hang out with you?” 

Shoko exits her post at the front desk, putting on her leather trench to hide one of her arms roped in ink. “Because he gave you a job out of college and lets you smoke weed on your breaks,” she mumbles as she pops an unlit cigarette into her mouth. Gojo glares at her while Geto laughs. He gave Gojo a job as a tattooer, along with Shoko (who is also the receptionist), because of how good their skills are. However, he would do it anyway because of their work ethic and the fact that they’re such good friends. 

“I’ll go with you ‘cause I need a drink,” Shoko huffs as she shimmies between the tattoo stations to the front door.” “We’ll drink in honor of you, Sugu.” Before she leaves, she bends over and pecks Geto on the cheek, leaving a ring of red lipgloss. “Happy birthday,” she chuckles. 

“Thanks,” he chuckles, wiping off her lipstick stain. “Have fun.” Shoko heads out into the chilly night, holding the door so Gojo can hurry up and join her outside. His blue-eyed friend stops and pats Geto on the shoulder, nearly knocking Geto’s cleaning rag and his ink machine out of his hands. “Don’t stay too long, alright? You need to sleep.” 

He gives Geto a serious look as he says this. It’s no secret that his friends think that Geto overworks himself to the point of exhaustion, but when you’re a business owner, you have to make sacrifices. “Satoru, my appointment is only askin’ for an outline,” he chuckles. “Those only take me twenty to thirty minutes, tops. But I appreciate your concern.” He puts a hand on Geto’s, giving him a smile. “As soon as I’m done, I’ll hop on my motorcycle and head out of here, okay?” 

Gojo nods, looking satisfied with that. “And let us know if a hot girl comes in,” he says with a smirk. “Maybe even that sweetheart you’ve got your head in a tizzy over.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at Geto who rolls his eyes, but his body tingles at the mention of you, the “sweetheart” in question. 

“Not head’s not in a tizzy,” he scoffs, standing up from his leather seat to get a drink, but mostly to escape his friend’s teasing. “Whatever the fuck that means. And she hasn’t been here in over two weeks.” Gojo watches Geto’s muscular back as he walks away, the dragon tatted on his back flexing along with his muscles. “You miiiiiss her,” he teasingly sings. 

Geto cuts his eyes sharply at his friend, about to tell him off, but Shoko peeks her head through the front door. “Cut it out,” she criticizes Gojo. “Now let’s go before we can’t find a seat.” She nods at Geto with a smile, giving him a wink. “Take it easy, Suguru.” Geto hums in agreement and waves as he moves behind the front desk to their mini fridge. 

“Remember what I said!” Geto calls as he heads out the door. “Let me know if she comes! I want details!” Then he’s off with Shoko into the city, leaving Geto alone in his shop. “Lock the door on your way out!” Geto calls, but they leave before his order reaches them. Sighing, he takes an ice-cold water bottle out of the fridge and takes a gulp of it before walking over to lock the door. 

Though he loves his friends, he was counting on them leaving tonight since they’re heavy drinkers and Gojo is a partier. It gives him time to be alone with his thoughts and, though he will never admit it, he is hoping to see you tonight. He’s been staying late for just that reason, making the excuse to ink people for later appointments, count cash, and clean up shop. He’s been hoping one day that you’d pop up on his schedule or that you’d call so he can hear your sweet, sexy voice, but to his utter disappointment, you haven’t. 

Ever since you entered his shop a month ago to get your belly button pierced, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his mind. It was a chilly but sunny day when he met you and he had just returned from lunch to get started with his next appointment. Gojo and Choso, one of his other skilled yet young tattooers, were working that day. Geto had walked in, positively pissed, in his wool trench after parking, locking, and hopping off of his motorcycle. 

The bell above the door rang as he stomped in wearing his boots, wanting to stomp someone. “You won’t believe this shit,” he scoffed to no one in particular but knew that his coworkers would listen. “I almost ran over this guy’s dog who ran out into the street without a leash. The dude tried to blame me for it even though he’s an irresponsible dog owner! Then, the idiot was threatening to sue for…” 

He immediately stopped complaining the moment he got a look at you checking in at the front desk along with your friend. 

You turned around at the same time as his coworkers when he stomped through the door, giving him an eyeful of your pretty, brown skin and eyes highlighted by the pink you wore: a pink trench with flurry sleeves and neckline; a pink cropped sweater that exposed your tummy and juicy cleavage held up by your push-up bra; pink nails he wanted to feel wrapped around him; juicy, glossy, pink lips that chewed on some strawberry mint gum he could smell from the door. 

The only things that weren’t pink on you were the black boots that didn’t make him any taller than you and your hip-hugging, low-waist jeans that flared out at the bottom of your ankles and hugged your waist and thighs something wicked. Geto was silenced, his heart thundering in his ears and blood immediately rushing to his cock. He was disgusted at that, but he couldn’t help it! It was like you stepped out of a man’s wettest dream. You were the perfect mix of adorable and sexy. 

Shoko smirked at Gojo from across the room before clearing her throat to fill the awkward silence. “Your 3 PM is here, Geto,” she announced. You gave him a big, blinding, warm smile and he wore he nearly popped a nosebleed. “Hi!” you greeted him. “That’s me! I booked it online on your website.” 

Realizing he looked like an idiot just standing there, Geto quickly recovered and cleared his throat, ignoring Gojo’s soft sniggers. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “Yes, my 3 o’clock. I’m Suguru.” He stuck out his hand to you which you took, your hand so much smaller and softer than his. “I’m Y/N,” you said in that sweet voice. “This is my friend. She introduced me to your shop ‘cause Ariana Grande got her tattoo done here.” 

“Oh, yeah, Ms. Grande!” he chuckled. He had to take a moment to think about that because his brain was too busy focusing on how good you smelled and your pretty smile. “Yeah, she was very nice. Are you here for some ink? I don’t think you said anything about what you wanted for your appointment.” 

You giggled, sheepishly so. “You guys do piercings, right?” you asked, blinking those big, doe-like eyes and doll-like lashes up at him. He nodded, afraid to speak. “I was hoping if maybe I could get a belly button ring. A pink one, please! Or one shaped like a heart!” 

Your friend nudged you the wider and more excited your gorgeous eyes got. “Y/N,” she whined. “Don’t be so pushy.” But Geto chortled to himself, thinking it was adorable. “It’s cool,” he chuckled. “Well, follow me to my station and I can show you what we have.” 

While your friend waited in the waiting area where snacks and drinks sat, you followed Geto to his workstation where a stool for himself, a retractable chair for his clients, and a large mirror plastered against the wall sat. He presented you with a glass case of rings to choose from, each one becoming more expensive due to the kind of metal used and whether the diamond in it is real. “Oooh, I’ll take this one!” you cooed, pointing at the fuschia pink diamond stud with a butterfly charm hanging off of it. “It’s so pretty!” Geto smirked, knowing that you’d pick that. “Lemme just sit up real quick,” he told you and you nodded before shedding your coat. 

When you did, he watched as you bent over to toss the coat over your chair, getting an eyeful of your back and your ass in your jeans. He has never had a client make it so hard to work before. His cock practically became his head, throbbing intensely. He tried to distract himself by putting on his latex clothes and cleaning the piercing needle. Once done, he took out the earring and dangled it in front of you. “You like pink?” he asked, smirking. 

You gave him a sheepish, shy smile. “Is it that obvious?” you giggled. “I just love the color. I think it makes me look cuter.” He didn’t tell you that he agreed. You then began to look around the store aimlessly, gaping at the sketches hanging up behind him. “Wow, did you draw that?” you gasped, pointing at a blue dragon emerging from a bed of water lilies. “That’s sooo beautiful! You design your own stuff?” 

He nodded, flushing at the compliment. “Thank you, and yes, I do. I’m a tattoo artist who just so happens to own their own shop.” He patted the chair, giving you a warm, comforting smile. “Go ahead and get comfortable. Lie back for me.” You did so, sitting down and lying back against the leather cushion, but you looked tense. “How long have you owned your shop for?” you asked. “That’s gotta be hard. I’m going to college now, so I know how it feels to be so overwhelmed. Classes are cool. I hate math classes though. I mean, what do we need to learn calculus for? It’s pointless! I wanna be a teacher, not…” 

You stopped, looking embarrassed. “Sorry. I talk a lot when I’m nervous.” He raised an eyebrow at you as he set out some anti-bacterial wipes and soothing cream. “Nervous?” he asked. “I can see you’ve gotten piercings before though.” He nodded at your ears and diamond nose ring. 

“Yeah, but those weren’t for my body!” you argued. “But then again, I do wanna get my nipples done too, so I guess I’ll have to get used to needles.” 

Geto didn’t tell you how much the idea of you having nipple rings turned him on. Maybe they would be pink too. “I have tattoos too,” you added. He once again quirked an eyebrow at you, happy to get to know you more to ease your nerves…and also because he was so intrigued by you. “Do you now?” he prompted, curious. “Lemme see.” 

You first showed him one––a tiny purple butterfly on your right arm. “I got this one two years ago for my birthday,” you explained. You then rolled down your pants slightly, making Geto blush and think very naughty thoughts, to show him the name inked on your left thigh. “And this one is my boyfriend’s name.” You stated this so proudly. 

Geto tried not to wither at the fact that you were taken. Of course, you would be! You were too damn cute to not be with someone. “Boyfriend, huh?” he asked. “How’d you meet him?” He hated how bitter he sounded, but you didn’t seem to notice. “We go to the same school together. Funny enough, he was my weed plug and he asked me out. We’ve been together for two years now.” 

You gave him a crooked smirk as you pulled your pants back up. “I know it’s silly,” you sighed. “That’s what my friend said: to get a guy’s name tattooed on your body.” Geto felt a pang of guilt because he was thinking it. “I didn’t say that,” he protested. “You’d be surprised how many people come in here wantin’ their significant other’s name tatted on them.” 

“Well, there’s the whole logic behind it that if you break up, you’ll have their name on you forever!” you stated. “But I know that’s not gonna happen. We’re doing great and he’s got my name tatted on him in the same spot!” you sounded so certain that Geto couldn’t dare argue. 

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said, giving you a smile before fetching an alcohol swap. “I’m just gonna clean your belly button first and then you’ll feel a pinch. There will be blood, but not a lot.” 

You nodded and braced yourself by squeezing the chair before he began to wipe at your belly button. “That tickles!” you laughed, endearing, hysterical giggles leaving your mouth as Geto did his thing. He smiled, loving the sound. He wanted to make you laugh always. Once done, he took the needle and gave you a soothing smile. “So tell me what you go to school for.” 

You were happy to tell him and he found that the more he talked to you, the less tense and nervous you were. You talked the whole time he took the needle and pierced your belly button, trying not to laugh at your squeal of pain. You were just the sweetest thing ever. He also found that the more he talked to you, the more he wanted to know you. Once finished and your stomach was clean, you admired your piercing in the mirror. “Thank you so, so much, Suguru!” you squealed. “It’s so, so cute!” 

Geto watched you shake your hips in the mirror, agreeing that the tiny charm looked so damn cute hanging from your belly. He tried not to stare too much, instead, spraying and sanitizing the chair for the next client. “Do you have an IG that I can tag you in?” you asked, taking out your phone with a Hello Kitty case. God, how cuter could you possibly get?! He just wanted to scoop you up and put you in his pocket! 

“Yeah, and I’ll give it to you when I ring you up,” he stated, loving how sweet you were. Once he finished cleaning up and giving you the solution to clean your piercing with, he walked you to the front desk to pay and totaled it, telling you something completely lower than the actual price. “Oh…but that’s not the price on your website,” you stated, confused. 

“I know,” he chuckled, looking down at you adoringly. “A college girl like you needs to save.” Realization flickered in your eyes. “That’s so sweet!” you cooed and, after you finished paying, surprised him by putting $20 in the tip jar. “For doing such a good job on me,” you giggled. “I’ll make sure I visit here again for a tattoo.” 

Geto shared your smile, feeling his heart thud at the thought of you coming back. He wanted you to come back. “I look forward to it, Y/N,” he said, not realizing how deep and sultry your voice sounded. But you did and your friend had to come get you because your legs suddenly forgot how to function. You looked back at him over your shoulder before you finally left, making Geto wonder if he’d see you again. Gojo was more than excited to be nosey and leaned against the front desk while Geto counted change. “What?” he grumbled, not even looking up. 

“Dude, you should’ve copped that,” Gojo sighed. “I would’ve definitely slid that cutie my digits.” 

Geto glared at him as he dropped the coins in the register. “She said she has a boyfriend, in case you’re hard at hearing,” he pointedly said. 

Gojo clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “That don’t matter! You could’ve given her your card for…business purposes.” He smirked suggestively, ever the perv.  “Why would I need to do that if she has my IG?” Geto scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Da fuck I look like givin’ this girl my card with my number on it? She would’ve thought I was trying to pick her up. And besides, she’s probably not even gonna show up again.” 

But you did. You showed up the whole month of January to pick up new solution or to get a cleanup on your butterfly tattoo. Geto always took you and if he wasn’t there to do so, you came back when he was on his shifts which made his heart flutter. You learned more about him and he about you during all of your sessions which became his favorites. You had become his favorite client because of how sweet you were to everyone. Your personality and presence seemed to brighten his shop a little more. He looked forward to the days you’d come in. 

Until suddenly, you stopped. He hasn’t seen you in over a week and though he had your number in the system, he refused to call you. He didn’t want to overstep boundaries, so he just left it be, but he can’t deny that his heart aches every time the bell above the door rings and you’re not standing there. 

After fifteen minutes of cleaning up and humming to the music blasting from his phone, it begins to drizzle outside which means that his appointment may be cancelled. Many clients cancel or don’t show up when the weather is nasty. No more than five minutes later, he gets a call on the shop’s phone which goes right to voicemail. “Hi there!” his appointment, an older man, says. “This message is for Geto Suguru. I apologize, but I have to cancel because of my work hours. I’ll reschedule for an opening next week. Have a good night!” 

“Shit,” Geto cusses, not happy to have wasted his time, but also glad that he’ll be able to go home early and chill on a rainy night. So he busies himself with putting up the closed sign on the door before taking a Clorox wipe and wiping down the front desk. With his back to the door, he hears the bell make its tinkling sound behind him. 

“Hey, sorry, but we’re closed,” he announces without looking behind him. “Oh, sorry!” your sweet, familiar voice says. “I wanted to…” Geto immediately stops cleaning to turn to face you. You stand there frozen with an umbrella dripping in water and wearing a cropped pink tracksuit and matching pants bedazzled with your name on them. You both stare at each other for a minute, completely silent and transfixed, before you manage to smile at him. “Hi,” you greet him. 

God, how he’s missed that smile. “Hi,” he parrots, still in awe. “What brings you here tonight, stranger?” 

Your smile grows wider, a little brighter than before but still slightly…off. You don’t have that light to them. “I had come to get something, but I can come back. I thought y’all closed at 10 PM.” 

“We do,” Geto replies, already putting away the cleaning products, “but my client cancelled, so I was gonna shut down shop early…but I can still take you depending on what you need.” You look relieved at that and he wants to know why. “Thank you, Suguru,” you sigh. “I’m so sorry to interrupt your night.” 

“Nonsense,” he chuckles, walking you over to his work station. “My night was gettin’ boring anyway, so I’m glad you walked in. Hop up.” He pats the seat to which you hop up on, your legs dangling from the seat. The sound of SZA swells around the shop, filling the silence. Usually, you’re so chipper and singing along to the tunes, but tonight, you’re completely quiet. 

“So I’ve got ask,” Geto says, giving you a warm smile. “Where have you been at all this time? I haven’t seen you around the shop lately.” He begins to take the cleaning products for piercings and tattoos out to make it the conversation seem casual, but in reality, he is dying to know where you disappeared to. You shrug, looking everywhere but at him. “Just dealin’ with classes, you know,” you answer softly. “Exams, tests, papers…” He nodded understandably and rolled towards you on his stool. “So what are you lookin’ for tonight?” he asks. 

And he doesn’t know what in that question gets to you, but you immediately burst into tears. A sob-like exhale breaks through that chest and sobs begin to escape those pretty lips as you weep into your hands. Geto is taken aback, not sure what to do. “Uh…did I say something wrong?” he asks. 

You vigorously shake your head, your cheeks now coated in tears. “No, no,” you sniffle. "I’m so sorry, Suguru. I just…” You sigh, shaking your head. “My boyfriend broke up with me,” you confess. “The one whose name I got tattooed on my fucking thigh! TMI, but I caught him fucking another girl in his dorm when I went over to celebrate his birthday with a cake I made.” 

Geto crumbles at the sight of you looking so low; so down; so insecure. He hates seeing you like that and he hates that your bitch ass ex caused this. “I came to get his name covered,” you admit. “Maybe with a flower or another butterfly. Something pretty to cover this ugliness. I’m sorry to spring this on you so late, but–“ 

You abruptly stop because Geto is looking at you in a way that he has never looked at a client. His gaze his hooded but fierce and serious, one of his hands gripping the chair arm and nearly brushing against your arm. “You don’t have to be sorry about a thing, Y/N,” he says in a gentle, sweet voice that soothes you and makes you feel safe. “I’d be happy to do this for you. And if it’s any consolation, a girl as sweet as you deserves much more than someone that hurts you.” 

You stare at him for a moment, your eyes big and glassy from crying. He gives you a smile that you mirror, flashing him something he has been aching to see. “And plus, my birthday couldn’t get more exciting,” he chuckles. At this, you gasp. “It’s your birthday?” you coo. “Oh, that makes me feel even worse!” 

Geto laughs, patting your hand comfortingly, ignoring the sparks that fly as he does. “It’s cool, really. I don’t celebrate my birthday like that.” He goes to roll away so he can get some designs for you, but you stop him by placing a hand on his arm. He turns, finding you staring him down with an unreadable, hot expression. “Well…is there any way I can repay you?” you ask, but there is a purr to it. It is soft and low, but Geto hears it. And suddenly, he feels as if you aren’t just here for the ink. 

The air shifts to something less than professional and friendly. Though Geto should ignore it, he doesn’t, too distracted by your lips and thick thighs in those track pants. “Well, what did you have in mind?” he asks, his voice dipping an octave. To you, it sounds like dripping honey and makes you feel a way that your ex never did. 

You suddenly slip off of the chair and stand in front of him while he sits. He wheels closer to you so you stand between his thick, muscular thighs in his jeans, looking up into your eyes. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” you say, your tone sultry and sweet. "I don’t want you to think you’re rebound ‘cause you’re not. I’ve always liked you, Suguru, but I didn’t want to ruin things with my ex...but now that we’re done, I’d like to take our relationship somewhere else.” You give him a shy smile that nearly makes him bust. “If you’re down for it,” you add, batting those pretty lashes at him. 

Seconds later, his control flying out the fucking window, Geto finds himself snatching you down to kiss him, causing you to fall into his lap. He swallows your surprised mewls and soft moans as he kissed your lips, making his sticky with your gloss. He gives you those moans right back, desperate and yearning, as you straddle him. He can feel how warm you are the more he kisses and touches you, especially between your thighs. You grind against his crotch as your hands stroke up his chest and his squeeze and mold the thick, soft globes of your ass in your tracksuit pants. 

“Finally,” he murmurs through your kiss. “I’ve been wanting you…wanting you for so fuckin’ long.” One hand trails up your back to caress your spine while the other rests on your ass, coaxing you to continue to grind your hips into him. “Me too,” you whimper as he nipples gently on your plump, pillowy-soft bottom lip. “I have too.” 

He smiles through the kiss, happy to know that you’ve been aching for him even when you were with someone already. This is insane! He was so sure he would go home after locking up the shop, take a ride on his motorcycle, and smoke a blunt to end the night off. He doesn’t expect anything that happens tonight to go the way that it does. 

He doesn’t expect to find himself stripping for you while you strip for him, laughing as you help each other with your clothes and steal hot, breathless kisses in between. He snatches down the zipper to your tracksuit while you snatch down your pants, leaving you in just your pink Hello Kitty bra and panties. He laughs at your undies, making you smack his arm. “I think they’re cute,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

You strip off his baggy, black sweatshirt while he takes off his tank top underneath, revealing his toned body and tatted arms to you. He never likes to brag about himself, but the way you’re looking at him like he’s a long-haired Adonis makes him want to. 

“You’re so, so pretty, Sugu,” you mewl, dragging your long, pink, pretty nails across his skin. You run your hands over every part of him: his arms; his hips; his chest and pecs; his toned stomach that leads down to his V-line smooth with skin and inked with a lipstick mark. You giggle at the tattoo, running your thumb over it. “It ain’t someone’s lips in particular,” he explains, shivering at your touch. “But I wouldn’t mind if they were yours.” 

“I’d hope you wouldn’t,” you purr before bending down to press your lips to the tattoo, leaving a stain of your gloss there. He returns the same action when he takes down your bra straps to expose your pretty titties and hard, tight, brown nipples to him that he pepper in kisses and suckles that make you moan and toss your head back. 

He doesn't expect you to bend over the chair for him when he demands it: “Bend over for me,” he says in his deep, smooth voice that makes you shiver. You look back at him, presenting your ass to him to take for himself. Geto feels like a wild animal the way he moves your panties down to your knees and stuffs his face in your pussy. His hands mold and smack your ass, loving the way it jiggles and how you gasp every single time his hand comes down to hit one of your jiggly, soft asscheeks. 

He doesn’t expect his lips and tongue to be in your pussy, licking, sucking, and lapping up your juices which you allow by pressing your ass further into him. “Fuck, Sugu!” you moan, moving one arm back to run your fingers through his long, black locks. “You’re so, so good at this!” You make sounds and move in a way that makes him feel as if your ex hasn’t been treating you right. 

He wants to make up for all of it, so he continues to lap at your sweet, pretty little cunt and moan as he does it, drunk off of the taste of you. He’s drunk in love with the way your skin contrasts with his, wanting to see his cum dripping down it; the way your sobs and whines of pleasure bounce off of the walls; the way your nails massaging his scalp as you grip his hair; the way your ass and hips whine and grind into his mouth like a little slut in heat. 

“You’re so good to me, mama,” he murmurs against your clit. “So sweet…like sugar.” You whimper at his words, sneaking your hand down to rub your clit while he tongue-fucks you against the leather chair. 

He doesn’t expect to switch with you and have his long, thick cock wrapped in your soft lips, your tongue lapping at the pre-cum bubbling from the head. He loves the way you ogle his dick once you get his pants off, letting the appendage spring to life. He is thick, veiny, girthy, and has a stud piercing in the bulbous head that makes him blush.

"Aw, baby!" you coo happily, gently poking at the studded earring. "You have a dick piercing! That's so fucking hot." You settle on your knees, naked, your pretty eyes and doll-like lashes staring up at him while you stroke and gag on his cock like it’s your profession.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, tossing his head back at the sensations. He wants so desperately to keep looking at you, but the sight and the feeling is almost too much. 

Your mouth is just so wet and your throat is so tight. When you release him, your mouth and lips are coated in spit and pre-cum, your lash line slightly glittering in tears. “You taste so good, Sugu,” you moan, biting your lower lip as you watch your hand stroke his wet cock up and down. He’s just as hypnotized, loving how your nails look wrapped around his thick, veiny dick. 

“Am I doin’ a good job?” you teasingly ask. “Am I makin’ you feel good?” You dip back down to take him deeper down your throat, gagging and choking along his length. Geto grunts, one hand gripping your hair while the other digs into the leather cushion beneath him. “God, yes!” he moans. “You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, sugar. Such a good girl for me.” 

You giggle, drunk off of him, and continue to eagerly take him, your soft lips sliding along his shaft as your mouth goes up and down, up and down, giving him throat like he has never experienced in his life…and in his place of business, no less! 

And he certainly doesn’t expect you to be bent over the chair again and him behind you, his hands on your ass and his cock sliding inside of you. Of course, he pauses to ask if this is still okay and that you can say no at any time. But you look back at him with a giddy smile and a need in your eyes that almost makes him cum. “I want this, Sugu,” you softly say, your hand pressing against his stomach just to feel him up. “Please fuck me.” 

And when you toss that ass back into him, he just about loses it. He grips your hips and begins slowly rocking his hips into your wet heat, letting you get used to the feeling. He pays attention to your sounds and the way your body moves, your knees wobbly and body shaking. “You okay?” he asks, comfortingly stroking your back. You nod, panting heavily as his cock internally strokes your clit as it slides in and out of you. “You’re bigger than my ex, is all,” you shakily say. “But I can take it.” 

Geto doesn’t tell you how happy that makes him. It gives him the chance to really fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. “You’re so tight for me, sugar,” he moans, continuing to give himself to you nice and slow. “So wet too. You must be feening for this dick, aren’t you?” He takes you by the back of the neck and angles himself in a way that makes your moans grow louder when he fucks you. 

“Faster, Sugu!” you beg. “Please fuck this pussy faster! Harder!” He can’t deny the way his cock swells and twitches inside you at the sound of your pleas. 

He grabs your hips and gives you exactly what you want, fucking you so roughly that your knees begin to buckle and your moans echo with the music playing on his phone. His own sounds of pleasure mingle with yours, mixing with the sound of his cock lewdly swirling in your squelching, wet pussy that grips him tighter than a vice. “Take it,” he demands. “Take it like a good girl. You wanted this shit, right?” 

He smacks your ass in time with his thrusts, causing sharp sounds of his hand connecting with your cheeks and your moans to bounce off of the shop’s walls. Your ass is just too perfect and he can't get enough of the way it bounces and jiggles so enticingly against his stomach as he drills you. He wouldn’t mind seeing his name tatted on one of your delectable cheeks or as a tramp stamp across your lower back or even on your thigh. He sees you now as his own. You are his. 

“That feel good, hm?” he teasingly asks, continue to hold your neck as he pistons into you. “You like that, sugar? Y’know, this pussy is almost sweeter than you.” He pauses and slowly holds your leg up, waiting for your consent to continue. You nod, pushing back into him as if you can’t get enough of his cock. 

For a while, he fucks you just like that with one hand holding your leg up and the other gripping your neck, holding you steady as he strokes that G-spot again and again, his heavy balls hitting that clit and making you tingle all over. But he doesn’t just fuck you from behind. He does it in any way you want and are comfortable with doing. 

He turns you around, picks you up, and fucks you stand up, you dangling from his waist. You just about scream and sob with pleasure as his cock pounds into you like a jackhammer, your arms and legs wrapped around him like a koala bear. “F-Fuck, Sugu!” you babble into his neck and hair. “Oh, my God, you’re so fuckin’ good!” He pulls you away to stare at the pleasure in your eyes and then kiss you, moaning hotly into your mouth. It only makes him fuck you harder, making you bounce against his cock. 

When you finally cum is when he lies on his back on the floor and has you ride him. You do so with vigor and eagerness, bouncing up and down on his dick like the cutest little rabbit. He lies under you, his big hands gripping your hips and ass as you do your thing. “God, baby,” he groans. “You’re gonna make me cum soon.” 

He can feel his balls tightening and that knot in his stomach threatening to snap the more your pussy slams down onto him and the more those precious titties jiggle and bounce in front of him. “Cum with me, Sugu!” you beg in that sweet voice, your nails digging into his pecs. “Give it to me please! I’m so close!” Ever the vixen, you randomly slow down and begin to giggle like a damn villain when Geto groans at the edging, your wet walls just too much to not fuck up into. 

And that’s what he does. He takes a hold of you and grips you to him before slamming himself up into you again and again, his moans and grunts of pleasure mixing with yours as your mixed juices drip down his balls, making your cunt wet enough to fuck with vigor. “Cum with me,” he demands as you whine into his ear, his cock too much. “Cum on this dick, baby. Do it! Give it to me!” 

It doesn’t take long for you to cum all over his cock, your pussy squeezing him tight enough where he can hardly move. When you do, it triggers his own orgasm. He quickly pulls out of you and fucks his fist until his cum spurts all over your ass and pussy, drenching you in it. His lips find yours, his moans and heavy pants mixing with yours as your tongues swirl with one another. You giggle into the kiss, causing him to laugh too. “Fuck,” you sigh against his mouth. “That was so good.” 

“Mm,” he hums in agreement. Exhausted, you roll off of him and onto your back to stare up at the ceiling. Beads of sweat roll down Geto’s toned body and forehead as he heavily pants, recovering from the sex. Feeling your hand sneak into his, he smiles and interlaces your fingers. 

“I expect you to be comin’ back regularly now,” he chuckles. 

“If I can look forward to this, sure,” you hum. “That was fantastic! Way better than my bitch ass ex!” Geto turns over to look at you, loving how you look in the afterglow after getting your gorgeous brains fucked out. “Speakin’ of which, you wanna get back to the tattoo or just continue this?” he asks, nodding down at your thigh where your ex’s name still sits. “I'm with either, sugar. It’s all up to you.” 

You look up at him with those eyes and inch closer to his body to wrap your arms around him. “In a bit,” you sigh, making him laugh as you squeeze him to you like a teddy bear. He embraces you back, pressing a kiss to your forehead and breathing in the scents of your sweet-smelling body spray and sex on your skin. He loves how small you are, how warm and soft you feel against him. He feels like you belong there with him and he with you. 

After a couple of minutes of soft kisses and drawing shapes on each other’s naked bodies, you each get dressed and get back to business. After Geto fetches you some water and a snack, yu sit up in the chair and lay back while he puts on some gloves and moves your pants down to show the flesh of your thigh. When he fetches the tattoo gun, your eyes grow wide like a cartoon character’s. 

He snorts at your reaction as he dips the needle in some red for your new tattoo. You chose a nice rose to cover your ex’s name. “Still scared of needles?” he chortles. You nod, focusing on the needle. “Just grab my hand and breathe, okay?” He puts out his hand for you to take, but you stop him from plugging in the gun. 

“Oh, wait!” you exclaim and begin digging in your purse. You then pull out a bedazzled weed pen and take a hit, the smoke billowing from your soft, glossy lips that he wants to kiss again. The way they form an O makes his cock twitch. “Want some?” you ask and he leans in to take a hit. The smoke fills his lungs and he holds it as you lean in, prompting him to blow the smoke into your mouth. 

Once relaxed, you nod, silently telling him to continue. “Here we go, sugar,” he gently announces. He plugs in the gun and it begins to muzzle. “Just breathe.” You do so, holding his hand and looking away as the needle gets closer to your skin. Once the first pricks come, you tense and squeeze his hand, but you still breathe. “Good girl,” he coos. “You're doin’ so, so well for me.” 

You give him a wobbly smile, but the fear in your eyes has wained…mostly because he starts rubbing your clit. “S-Sugu,” you whimper, closing your trembling thighs around his hand. 

“Just focus,” he instructs you as his thick fingers stroke your needy clit. “Focus on my fingers, sugar, okay?” You nod, giving him a cute expression that makes him want to fuck you all over again. 

You do and all that is heard throughout the shop are the buzzing of the tattoo gun, the music, and your sweet moans. 

THE END. 

#smutty smut #black fanfic writer #my works #my fic shit #black coded reader #black writers #suguru geto x black!reader #geto suguru #suguru geto x reader #happy birthday geto #geto smut #jjk smut #suguru aka sugar

[ficbrish]

Threadbare

[AO3 Link]

[Here we go! @flufftober Spring Edition 2024! Thank you for the prompt 🥰 March 11th - New Beginnings]

Rating: Explicit 18+ only!

tw/cw: Sexual content, blood, blood drinking, past abuse, cptsd, choking kink, interrupted masturbation, alcohol, light hurt/comfort

Late in Act III, Astarion finds Vistri cuddling with his old shirt alone in their rooms at the Elfsong.

LATE ACT III SPOILERS!

“...And gave him a taste of a flaming fist! ” Karlach howled, leading the whole tavern in laughter.

Other mugs echoed her pounding on the bar with a dull, banging rhythm. Little golden drops of mead spilled over the tops, dripping down the glasses and mixing with condensation.

Astarion personally never tired of this story of hers. A Flaming Fist had been inappropriately whistling at Shadowheart, and Karlach responded by knocking the man flat on his ass in one swing. While Astarion smiled quietly and nostalgically at her recollection of those events, the other tavern patrons, who’d never heard it before, were an eager and raucous audience.

Shadowheart’s face turned Karlach’s color. Shouting over the Elfsong’s laughter, she protested, “I could have handled it myself. Really!”

Wyll threw an arm over her shoulder, “Come, come, Shadowheart. Was it not a bit satisfying for such a gallant devil to step in and exact your revenge?”

A huge smile spread over her face, “Galant devil could describe any of us.”

Astarion raised his glass, “Cheers!”

Wyll met his delicate wine glass with his own burly mug of mead. Unprepared for how much enthusiasm Wyll would use, Astarion ended up with red all down his front. A collective groan sounded along with wild laughter.

“It’s all right,” he assured Wyll, whose eyes were apologizing faster than his mouth could move.

“Astarion, I’m so—”

Funny thing, how such a sight affected him. Astarion wasn’t used to apologies. Or friendships for that matter. Wyll’s genuine sorrow over such a small inconvenience was like a hearty meal to a starving soul. He couldn’t let the apology continue. It was too painful to witness.

“No, no! It’s all right,” Astarion insisted, “Please don’t put yourself out. I’ll just go change. This tunic is hideous anyways.”

It wasn’t. It was a pretty blue thing with silver thread. But there was a prettier blue thing with silver scales waiting for him upstairs in their rooms, one he was eager to get back to.

Vistri was having a lie down. She wasn’t sick, just exhausted. Her body was fine, but her mind was ragged. Astarion was only reluctantly dragged from her side through her stubborn, repeated insistence to be left alone for a little while. He had the sense she’d been saying it more for his sake than hers. She didn’t want to be the reason why he didn’t spend time with the others.

“You say no one else has my heart, but they do!” she’d said, “You do!”

He’d frowned at the way she used his own words against him. Especially so inaccurately. Astarion was right, there was no one else like her. He’d stand by that forever.

“That’s not—!”

“Yes, it is! Go down there and have fun. Let them earn your trust as I have.”

Raising his brow, he left her with one last tease, “Certainly not in the same way you have?”

His charm wasn’t enough this time. He was dismissed.

Let the others in .

Well, he’d gone down with the others, had a bit of fun, and now he was covered in wine. He had the perfect excuse to go back up and check on her. The fretting in his stomach turned into excitement. 

So much had changed in so little time, after two centuries of endless, torturous consistency, spilled wine was now just spilled wine. He would just change his clothes, maybe wash up a bit, and there would be more waiting for him to wear. Choices.

Sewing was a skill Cazador forced on all his spawn. Keeping them all as cheaply as possible, they had to make every article of clothing last. No matter the care, or the tending, their clothes always ended up degrading into rags and tatters. Astarion was almost jealous of the way his outfits got to age and die. They had a temporal escape, while his torture was bound to be endless.

It also had the side benefit of shame. Sewing was for servants. It reminded the spawn of who they were.

Now that was all over. Cazador was gone. Ended by his hand.

And he had so many new clothes.

He had choices. How bizarre! Astarion was sure he’d forgotten how to make them.

And then he chose her.

A smile brewed on his face just at the mention of her in his thoughts. He took to the steps three at a time, surely looking absolutely ridiculous. He didn’t remember much from his life before undeath, but the more time he spent away from Cazador, the more he realized how much his desire to avoid appearing foolish was part of the weight of those old chains. If he tripped and fell on his face, he would probably laugh from the rebellious feeling of it.

The tadpoles brought him the sun and then Vistri. She helped him find love, true freedom, and then true love.

He decided looking a fool was worth it the moment he stepped through the door. His eyes found her immediately on one of the sofas by the fireplace. The dancing reflections of the flames rolled over the silver scales on her brow in waves. He could see it from the door. She was lying down; her eyes opened at the sound of his entrance.

She seemed a little shocked, “Astarion!”

“Hello, dear!” he greeted with open arms and a wide smile. It felt like ages since they’d been in the same space.

Although, reading her expression, he was a little worried she wasn’t as happy to see him.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, “Are the others—?”

“Just me,” he stated, then dramatically drew attention to his ruined shirtfront, “I’ve been decorated with libations! I need to freshen up. Is that all right?”

“Of course it’s all right! Don’t be silly.”

Vistri was a sorcerer; she was used to her thoughts becoming reality. But her mind was reeling from his sudden appearance. Like he’d stepped from her thoughts, but with an entirely different attitude. The Astarion in front of her was all lightness and soft good-humor. The one in her head was a whole other, harder side of his.

Their storage trunk was near the fireplace as well, by the other sofa. As Astarion walked towards her to rifle through it, she slowly removed her hand from between her legs, careful not to let the movement show under the blanket, which wasn’t even a blanket, but his old shirt.

Gods! It couldn’t be more embarrassing.

He came over to her first, bending down to plant a gentle kiss on her damp forehead. Astarion looked at her curiously, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Vistri nodded, humming a high-pitched, “Mmmm-hmmm.”

His brow was all questioningly screwed up, but he decided to drop it, and started unbuttoning his tunic.

Vistri subtly wiped her fingers on her thigh, then sat up, “Here, let me help you.”

“I’ve got it love,” he insisted, “You just lie down. Say… Why aren’t you in our bed?”

The way she smiled and repeated the words, “Our bed,” in that bright tone allayed all Astarion’s fears in an undead heartbeat. He was welcome. She was just as happy to see him as he was her. Poor love was just worn out.

He sighed and bent back down to kiss her. Her pulse pounded, he could feel it rush at the brushing of his lips. A rumble brewed in his middle and his fangs ached. She gave a little moan without meaning to, losing herself in the power of his affection.

“Don’t get too excited,” he teased, “I’m only here for a moment.”

“Why only a moment?” she asked genuinely.

With a smile, he tucked her braid behind her ear, “Didn’t you want to be alone?”

Her eyes were wide, like a begging dog, “I can be alone with you here.”

Astarion froze. He swallowed heavily, then giggled, “What a silly idea! Doesn’t that defy the whole concept of being alone?”

She pouted, and he rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he scoffed, sitting down next to her, “I can be—Hang on!”

Upon reaching for her hand, he finally noticed her blanket. Her expression filled with panic at his recognition, and too late, she tried to hide it.

He chuckled with sinister delight, “Why, is this my—?”

“No!” she stubbornly refused.

“Bloody liar! ” he laughed.

“It’s not!”

Vistri was cuddled up with his old shirt. She must’ve taken it out of the trunk and sat down nearby.

“That’s why you’re not in bed! You came over here for my shirt!”

Blushing deeply, Vistri was struggling to accept her fate. She couldn’t get out of talking about her feelings now. Eventually, she admitted, “...I did.”

His query was meant to tease, but there was something… raw and needy in his voice that made it something entirely different, “You were…”

She was nuzzling his old rags like they were something precious. Intentionally. Used her alone time to fish it out of the stuffed trunk, and secretly treasure it. While he was just downstairs in the tavern, missing her, she was up here longing for him.

“You were holding onto my old shirt?”

Vistri rolled her eyes and groaned. She couldn’t meet his eyes.

“It’s ridiculous!” she exclaimed.

Astarion made a “tsk” sound and smirked, “Aw, don’t reject it now, darling. My poor shirt! You’ll hurt its feelings.”

“No! I don’t want that!” she whined, as if that were something possible to really do.

He held it away from her reaching grasp, “Nuh, uh! Apologize first.”

“Astarion!”

“That’s my name, dear. Not an apology.”

Vistri frowned. Astarion leaned in and kissed it into a smile.

“I hate you!” she giggled, playfully pushing him off her.

“I hate you too,” he said lovingly, “Now! Walk me through the process of deciding to take out my shirt. Was this before or after you shooed me away?”

“Must I?”

Savoring the look on her face, he nodded, “You must, dearest.”

She bit her lip, “Okay. Ugh. Fine. You left and I…”

“You what?”

“I missed you! ”

“Hah!” he boasted.

“Arsehole!”

“An arsehole you love to kiss,” he grinned, “Shall I call you butt breath?”

“No!” she protested, laughing, “Please no!”

“Here,” Astarion handed her his old shirt, “Hold this.”

He stood and finished undoing his tunic, then threw off the soiled shirt underneath. Bare-chested, he climbed over to her side.

“Scoot over,” he demanded.

“There’s no room!” she laughed.

He pulled her tight once his body was flush against hers, “We’ll make it work.”

Vistri felt dizzy. Like she was flying.

“Okay.”

Not letting it go, Astarion asked, “So you missed me, and then what happened?”

With his fingers absently drawing figures on her waist, Vistri had no fight left. Sighing, she continued to expose herself, “I started thinking about… When we met, and I first saw you.”

“How you adored me instantly?”

“No, actually. How much I despised you. Like really, really just wanted to… shake you.”

“That’s so romantic.”

She chuckled, “I’m sorry. It’s horrible, but it’s true. But then… I also…” She shifted so they were chest to chest, and she could look at his face as she spoke. Without thinking, her nose nuzzled his as she admitted, “I really liked you.”

He sort of snorted and sighed and called out in the same second, like a baby that didn’t know if it was hungry or tired or perfectly content. That didn’t know whether to coo or cry.

“You did?” he asked, heart on his tongue.

Nodding, Vistri admitted it all, “I think I’ve come to learn… It wasn’t you I was mad at, but everyone else you reminded me of. And part of me knew that, and the unfairness of it made me hate myself more.”

“Wanna know a secret?”

“What?” she chuckled.

“I hated myself and liked you too.”

Grinning, she humorously exclaimed, “And that’s why we had sex!”

Astarion gave a hearty laugh. It was rich and deep, and sounded like relief from a long-ago burden.

Instead of joining his mirth, Vistri’s expression grew more serious, “I don’t believe there’s a single thing I could hate about you. Not now that I know you.”

“Not a single thing?”

“Impossible.”

He caressed the length of her ear, gentle like a caretaker, then kissed her cheek.

“So what was that you were saying, about thinking of how much you hated me when we first met?” he whispered, stroking the side of her face with the tip of his nose.

“I didn’t hate you, I was falling in love. That’s what I was thinking of. Falling in love.”

“With me?”

She laughed, “Who else?”

He kissed her forehead, waiting with bated breath for her to continue.

She breathed deeply, leaning into his kiss, “I wanted to run down and get you, but we can’t be together all the time.”

“Who says?”

Chuckling, she shook her head, “We can’t!”

“And the next best thing was my shirt?”

“The one I met you in.”

He’d almost thrown it out. Now that he had new clothes, he no longer needed Cazador’s old rags.

But he couldn’t. And he was glad he didn’t.

“And then you just decided to relax here? And daydream about me?”

“Uh…” she said way too awkwardly for him to just accept.

Brow raised, Astarion repeated, “‘Uh? ’”

“It’s just so incredibly lame!” Vistri looked horrified.

“Then I have to hear it!” he giggled, thrilled to have her in this little trap she set up herself.

“I was… Oh gods! ” she rolled her eyes, “Can I just… tadpoles?”

He laughed, “It’s so embarrassing you can’t speak it?”

“Yes.”

Laughing even harder, he agreed. He put his forehead to hers even though they didn’t need touch for brainworm-to-brainworm communication. Relaxing into his embrace, she let her memory play out through his senses.

Vistri was thinking of him, and Astarion found beauty in himself he could only see through her eyes. Like freedom, it was overwhelming. A goodness he could drown in. That she could drown in. He was her, and she was him.

Knots in her stomach, tied like strings of fate, spelling his name in her blood.

Rushing, pounding, flowing. Her heart.

Stillness. Serenity. Bliss.

After lying down on the couch, she held his shirt to her face and breathed into it. Even washed, it smelled like him. Like his heat and his lusts and his heavy soul. She kissed its loose threads like it was his chest, where his heart was. Imagined his arms around her like they were now.

Astarion felt Vistri loving him; fell into her blurred line of desire and devotion. He could taste it on her tongue as he kissed her now and felt her love him through that too. Past and present blended, and they shared all of it like one being. In her memory, her hand traveled between her legs at the thought of his laughing face. Then there was the sincerity in his eyes as they both kneeled over his grave. I want you, spilling out of his lips. She was touching herself, thinking of him, adoring him, with the shirt she’d met him in clutched to her throat. As they lived through it together on the same sofa, he kissed her again and again.

She didn’t even mean to break the connection, but his mouth was too distracting. He just couldn’t help himself. It felt like coming home after two centuries.

“How rude,” he muttered, “I seem to have interrupted.”

“It’s fine,” she said breathlessly, “I’m glad you came back.��

He chuckled warmly, “Darling I was just downstairs. At your insistence!”

“I know,” she said plainly, holding him tighter.

His heart ached, still absorbing what he’d just felt and seen through her memory, “You… Thinking about me–how you love me–makes you…?”

Unable to look at him, she buried her face in his chest, “I told you it was lame!”

Helping her out of hiding, he lifted up her chin, “I don’t think it’s lame.”

His tone sounded like he thought it was the most extraordinary thing. A miracle that couldn’t even be perceived, even with it plainly in front of him. It tore her heart open, but filled it rather than took.

Astarion kissed her neck, “I think it’s quite hot actually. Makes me want to finish what you started.” Vistri felt the heat of her blush again, and he moaned, “Fuck! I love when your blood rushes.”

He scraped his fangs hungrily against her skin. Her heart grew heavy with the weight of his need. She wanted to be the reason he felt better. Stronger.

“Go ahead, Astarion,” she said comfortingly, “Have a bite.”

He kissed her neck, from her chin down to the base of her throat, and bit into the muscle that connected her shoulder. Vistri gasped, surrendering to the sharp pain, and to him, leaning into his bite. Her blood dripped between them as it rolled messily off his lips.

Just allowing himself a taste, Astarion released Vistri from his fangs, licking up the remnants and kissing her wound until it closed. The hunger wasn’t sated, but he was dizzy with power nonetheless.

“Are you all right, love?” he asked, still concerned despite knowing how much she loved it.

“More than all right! Are you—?”

He met her warm smile with one of his own, “More than all right.”

“Good.”

No other partner ever cared. Neither had ever been asked genuinely what they wanted or who they were. No one else but them, making such questions a lyrical aphrodisiac for them to exchange.

Astarion could read her arousal in a thousand different languages. His tongue could feel it in her frantic heartbeat. His teeth could smell it in her glistening sweat. She was a meal ready to be devoured, prey begging to be taken. His hands traveled along her waist, and she twitched pleasantly. All the places that usually tickled made her shiver with want.

Vistri was always so ecstatic that it was him touching her this way, and no one else, that her skin would cry if it could. He could have clumsy hands and awkward touches, and still his embrace would make her shake. Astarion could easily bring ecstasy to her, even if he didn’t know what he was doing, just because it was him.

But gods did he know what he was doing! He played her body like it was one of her instruments, and all he did was fondle her torso.

His fingers lingered just under her waistline as he rubbed his arousal against her thigh. Throbbing under his pants, Astarion let his hand dive into her knickers. The wet lace made him groan.

“You’re soaking,” he sighed, licking his lips, “Might I have another taste?”

Whimpering as he teased her sensitive skin with brushing fingertips, Vistri pleaded, “Yes!”

First, he undressed her one article at a time, unwrapping her like a gift.

It was better than being alone. The whole purpose of her rest was to not think. She didn’t want to disappear, not anymore. She wanted to be present, but out of her head, and this was so much better. However, her heart still ached and missed him. Demanding more touch, more feeling. 

Being wanted by Vistri was the prettiest sight. Astarion had only ever known admiration, not adoration. Images of her in her memory ran through his mind; and with them came echoes of her emotion as she’d nuzzled into his old shirt, desperate for his lingering smell, pretending it still held his warmth. As the monster in his head screamed to devour her, he slid a finger up and down her soaking slit.

Following the roll of her hips, he almost lost himself in their rhythm as he teased her clit. Her desire was one he’d never known, a love he’d never felt. Vistri gave herself to everyone, but never like this. It was the same for him. Everyone had him, but no one knew him like this. Between them, old habits were entirely new.

Crawling his way down her legs, he had another taste. Vistri’s hands caressed his head and her fingers wrapped around his ears in a way that made him hum with security.

She cried out at every lash of his tongue.

He whined licking her, the rushing blood just under her skin overwhelmed his senses as much as her taste. It made him feel alive. Pangs of need made his fingers tremble as they pushed into her, stretching her. She moaned, a song promising this would always be his. He wanted to fuck her until he saw stars.

And it felt good to want. The desire he felt was his. All his.

“Astarion,” she called out his name in a breathy voice, her body tensing with pleasure. Even without tadpoles, he knew how close Vistri was.

The next words from her lips yanked his heart out of his chest and brought it to his sleeve.

“Yours. I’m all yours.”

He’d planned to pleasure her in so many ways, but those words took away his will to perform. They didn’t need ecstasy as much as each other. She’d touched herself thinking of his laugh and his expressions; of his being, not his figure. Vistri just wanted him.

Lifting his head up, he asked, “Can I—?”

“Get back here!”

She pulled on his shoulders as he rushed to her lips, climbing her torso. She was so small, but it felt like miles. Ages until they were face to face.

His mouth was like a bully, commanding hers about. Vistri struggled with things like self love and acceptance, but could adoringly savor her taste on his tongue. It was so sweet mixed with his underneath. Astarion took her by the wrist to rub her hand along the outside of his trousers, almost growling as rutted into her palm. Being used by him was the best thing in the world, just as being used by others was the worst. Her ecstasy from it was as sharp as her bruised soul.

One long, deep, “Uuuuh,” from Vistri was the final snap in Astarion’s composure. One hand went to her neck as the other started undoing his laces. 

He licked along her jaw, and spoke in the crook of her throat as it called to him, “Do you know what it means? When you say you’re all mine?”

“I know what it means,” she looked him squarely in the eyes, seriously, which was unusual for either of them, “I say it because I know what it means.”

When there was enough give, Astarion pulled his trousers and pants down in one motion, just far enough to reveal himself. He spread her thighs apart and rubbed his aching cock along her belly to show off how deep he’d go.

Writhing, wanting him, she uttered, “Fuck, I love you.”

Astarion buried himself in her, saying he loved her too. Vistri screamed his name so loudly it probably answered what was taking him so long to change to the others downstairs.

“Wait, is the door locked?” he asked, suddenly remembering.

Vistri groaned, realizing it wasn’t, “Shit. Nooo.”

It was a rare occasion for their rooms at the Elfsong to be empty of everyone but them. Anyone could come back at any time, and they were in the middle of the room.

“Well, we don’t want to make an unsuspecting audience out of Shadowheart’s parents. Do we?”

Cackling, she suggested, “Or Withers.”

Astarion giggled, “Old bastard might try to join.”

Vistri’s laughter made her shake and pulse so pleasantly on his cock, he didn’t want to leave.

“Go lock it,” she could barely get the words out, overtaken by hilarity. Like she was wearing that cursed amulet again. 

Sighing with frustration, he reluctantly pulled out of her and got up, tearing the rest of clothes off of his legs. Her slick covered his whole length, making the air cool on his dick as it bounced with his steps.

At the sound of the lock snapping shut, Vistri stupidly called out, “Please!”

He stood by the door smiling with his arms crossed, “Please, what?” The crimson-violet scream of his skin, his retreated foreskin, and the precum pooling at his tip betrayed his casual nature.

“Fuck me!” she begged.

He smirked and held up two fingers.

Vistri buried her face in the side of the sofa to hide her laughter, “I cannot stand you!”

Wishing to see her face again, Astarion dropped his game and broke into a full run. She squealed as he leapt to her, and then cried out as he tore through her again. He savored the look on her face. Her eyes spilled the truth of her heart. Their expression exposed her even though she wasn’t trying to hide anything. Vistri belonged to him, gave herself over to him to use and take care of at whatever whim. As long as she was his .

“What was that about not being able to stand me?” he smirked, distracting himself from the pleasure shaking his spine like a tree in a rough storm. He wanted Vistri to find ecstasy at least once before giving into his.

Running her hands along his chest and stomach made him almost whimper. Vistri licked his earlobe and kissed his ear before whispering, “I lied. I actually adore you, and want you all the time.”

Roughly, he pushed her down into the sofa. He wrapped a big hand around her delicate neck and held it firm, like a brace. Slowing his thrusts to an unbearably slow pace. A teasing rhythm.

“Do you adore me now?” he asked. It was impossible for even Astarion to tell if he was asking out of seduction or sincerity.

“Even more,” she promised.

A devious smile tugged at the corner of his lips, “Turn around.”

After tucking pillows, and his old shirt, under Vistri for a better angle, Astarion playfully bounced his hard cock against her ass. They both laughed at the smack, but grew serious as he began to touch her from behind. She rocked back into his palm so deliciously he had to angle himself against her. With a slight push, he was covered to the hilt. They shivered in tune with each other. Vistri felt ripped open at his thrust; his hands firmly holding onto her hips grounded her.

She reached back for one of them, and his finger twisted around one of hers as they met.

He froze, “Is this still what you want?”

“It is all I want,” she answered, caressing his finger.

Even though Vistri couldn’t see his smirk, she could hear it, “Then let’s give the others an update on our whereabouts.”

He roughly pumped his hips, angling deep.

“Astarion!”

He wanted them to hear it, everyone her voice could reach; hear the news that she was his. Going faster made her louder.

“Astarion! ” 

“Yes,” he groaned, as he felt her tightening around him, “Yes.” It was a word he wasn’t used to meaning, and the truth of it felt like the sun tingling like home on his skin.

Gasping through the edges of death, in unison, too quickly, they cried out.

Astarion wanted to see the stars, and there they appeared behind both their eyes. They never really knew why it was called a little death before they met. It became clear the first time they transcended flesh and spirit together under the thrall of an all-consuming ecstasy. In that bliss, they were gone from the world, and in coming back to it, were reborn into their shaking embrace.

He rocked his hips gently, even when there was nothing left to spill into her. Just because he didn’t want the moment to pass yet.

As Astarion sat back on his knees, Vistri turned around and covered his face with a flurry of breathless, grateful pecks. He chuckled, and wrapped his arms around her. Vistri threw hers over his shoulders too and pulled him tighter.

“Never leave me alone again,” she half-joked.

Astarion was so happy his words had a sobbing laugh under them, “Oh, I’m never leaving you alone again!”

They squeezed each other even closer at the same time. Never wanting to let go.

Miraculously, nothing got on the couch. So all they had to clean off was each other. After freshening up, they crawled into their bed. Which wasn’t really their bed. It was rented. But, unless tents and bedrolls counted, this bed was the first sort of home they’d claimed together.

“This is my favorite part,” she said as she nuzzled into his chest.

“What are you talking about?”

Vistri hummed happily and sighed, running her fingers along his arm, “This.”

Smiling, he bent to kiss her head. She gave another happy hum.

“You’re perfect,” she said.

“No, I’m not,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

Looking up, she poked him on the nose and refuted his denial, “Yes, you are!”

Astarion smirked and made a show of trying to bite her finger. Vistri squealed, laughing.

“No, don’t bi—”

A series of loud, rapid bangs on the door snatched them from their lighthearted moment, and instinctively, they got ready to fight. Each made a protective gesture over the other. Astarion sat up and pulled her closer by the waist, as she positioned her body in front of his.

Drunken shouts answered them before they could call out and ask who was there.

“—en it!”

“‘S’locked! ”

“OY! WHY’S THE DOOR SHUT?!” That would be Karlach.

Vistri smirked at Astarion.

Brow raised, he remarked, “Looks like this time, we forgot to unlock the door.”

She snickered, “Ready to let them in?”

He made a show of thinking about it for a moment as kicks and insults shook the door, “Hmmm, I don’t know. I think we should make them wait.”

The burst of laughter that left Vistri was loud enough for the others to notice, and the muffled shouting now included their names.

Astarion rolled his eyes and got out of bed, “You’ve done it now, love.”

As he walked to the door, he took a look back at Vistri, who had sunk back into their bed, holding her sides in a laughing fit. He felt as free as she sounded, and so full of happiness Astarion couldn’t feel his feet on the ground.

Vistri was wearing his old shirt. She’d insisted on changing into it when they got dressed. Telling him she didn’t want to spend a second without him wrapped around her.

The sight made him smile so broadly his cheeks ached.

#fluffspring2024 #day 1 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #vistarion #tav x astarion #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion ancunin #vistri #flufftober 2024 #full fic #BrishFics #threadbare fic #smut #fluff #light angst #lemon #bg3 spoilers

[volterraqueen]

Cleaning and Kisses ~ Arthur Shelby One-Shot

A/N ~ After coming out of a depression spell and some health problems, here is a little something for Arthur. I hope you all enjoy! And once again, I apologize for any grammar or formatting issues.

Summary ~ Arthur comes into the Garrison after a slow day. A kiss and sweet moment is shared.

Dedicated to @a-libra-writes . I swear everytime I see them post I get obsessed with the Peaky Blinders again. Never fails. But for real check out her works!! They are beyond amazing.

~~~

It was an unusually quiet night at the Garrison. The tables that were normally filled shoulder to shoulder with men who just got off work, or had nothing better to do were vacant. The handful of stragglers that made their way in sat in booths, spaced out enough for you to know they didn’t want to be bothered. Not that you were complaining anyway, it was a rare treat to have such a slow night after the sun set on the grimy streets of Small Heath.

You took advantage of the lack of customers by taking inventory of the backroom. Taking your time to carefully count the bottles, and dust off the shelves they sat on. From the amount of dust on your rag and all over your clothes, it had definitely been a while. You scribbled a note for Harry, telling him what needed to be ordered. Along with a small complaint about the accumulation of dust that still sat in your lungs.

While that made most of your night fly by, it brought you here. Standing at the bar, cleaning the same glasses, wiping down the same unused tables. While Tommy had forbidden singing, it hadn’t stopped you from humming in the pub. It seemed to be the only sound you could hear this slow night.

Until the door opened.

With how sudden the sound cut into your silence, you nearly jumped out of your skin. A small gasp escaped your lips as the glass in your hand nearly slipped out of your hands.

Your face grew red with embarrassment as you looked up to Arthur Shelby’s amused smirk. Of course it was him. The Shelby who had caught your eye the moment you met.

“After you pull yourself together love, give me the usual ‘eh.” Arthur slid into the bar chair closest to your position. Tapping his knuckles against the wood, as he slipped his blinder cap off.

Within moments a glass and a bottle of some of the more expensive whiskey was in front of the eldest Shelby. With how often he sat with you at the counter, it was second nature. Arthur was quick to pour himself a glass and down it just as fast. Two more followed as the few other patrons paid their respects to Arthur and quickly left the pub. Leaving the two of you alone.

“Better savor that bottle Mr.Shelby. It’s the last bottle until Harry gets some more in.” You teased Arthur, as you walked to the front of the pub, locking the door as the clock struck 10. As you started to do a final wipe down of the tables, Arthur turned in his chair to face you. Letting his gaze linger as you moved from table to table. You couldn’t help but shoot him a wink once your eyes connected.

“Ow’ many times I gotta tell you love? Call me Arthur.” He took another drink and shed his coat, before getting up.

Arthur made his way to you within three strides, eager to be close to you. Coming up behind you, he gently put his bruised and calloused hands on your shoulders. Rubbing them slightly before turning you around to face him. Putting your rag on the table, you hands found their way up to Arthur’s face. You gently cradled his face, and studied it for any new cuts or bruises. With thankfully none to be found.

“No one put their hands on me today love. Jus’ your lovely ones.” Arthur assured you. His eyes strayed away from yours and he shifted his feet. Still not used to someone genuinely caring about his well-being. Taking your hand you calmly smoothed back his hair and brought his eyes back to meet yours again.

You looked up at your lover with warm wide eyes and the sweet smile he fell in love with. It was moments just like this that silenced the demons in his head. That made him just a normal man, with a woman whom he loved more than the world itself. No words needed to be spoken in these private moments. He groaned before leaning down to kiss you.

Arthur’s lips were warm, with a whiskey after taste as he eagerly pressed them against yours. He couldn’t stand the distance no matter how small between you when you smiled at him like that. Absolutely irresistible.

You melted into his kiss. Wrapping your arms around his neck, just wanting him to be as close as possible, feel every part of him that you could in this moment. Arthur grew eager deepening the kiss and slipping his tongue in your mouth. One hand held you steady on the back of your neck, his other on your hip. It was such an intoxicating feeling. His mouth. His hands. If you weren’t so in the moment the small moans you let out in-between the kisses would absolutely embarrass you.

Arthur’s lips stirred something deep in you. The passion and intensity made you dizzy with love and lust. Just one kiss drove you absolutely mad, pressing your body tightly against his, pulling at the collar of his shirt. A far change from your usually calm demeanor. Arthur’s hand roughly gripping your hip and ever so slowly trying to move your dress up intensified this feeling. But fuck. You were still at work. Much to both of your disappointment, you abruptly pulled away, gasping for air, and trying to regain your posture.

“I gotta put up these chairs and sweep darling. Then I’m all yours the rest of the night.” You murmured. Taking a small step back you smoothed out the wrinkles in your dress, fixed the small bit of hair Arthur’s hands messed with. Little did you know, seeing you all flustered and shy, with swollen lips and desire in your eyes absolutely made Arthur almost primal. He wasn’t going to give you the chance to get too far from him.

You couldn’t help but let out a small squeak as Arthur picked you up and wrapped your legs around him as he made his way to the backroom. “ARTHUR SHELBY!” You playfully yelled at him, lightly wiggling in his arms. He wasn’t listening to your scolding about doing your job right, and how Harry would chew her out the next morning. The only thing on his mind was the smell of your perfume and how good your neck and collarbone felt on his lips.

“Tell you what love, I’m gonna take you back here and bend you over. After you’re fucked out and cleaned up, I’ll clean up out here yeah?”

#peaky blinders #megan writes #one of my husbands #arthur shelby #arthur shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #arthur shelby x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x reader

[raparopa]

Hello! May I request general hux with a resistance reader who saves him like he's all bleeding out and dieing but the reader comes along and scoops him up to patch him up for whatever reason maybe they know he's the spy or smth? Anyway have a good day and take care of yourself :)

-🍷

a/n: I am very happy to write about star wars))) thanks for the request! Looking forward to more posts from you guys!

warnings: language (?), mention of blood and violence, reader's POV, I don't know what first order prison cells look like

pairing: Armitage Hux x fem!resistance!reader

hux! hux?

All I found was blood running from my lip and dripping onto the floor of the cell the First Order put me in. In fact, there was nothing surprising in the fact that I was in captivity. When you fight for freedom, you prepare yourself for the fact that sooner or later you will have to give up your life or freedom for your goal.

They needed someone who has information, well, and in addition, someone who knows Rey and her plans (apparently for Kylo Ren's personal purposes, each time he can get it as he can).

I wiped the blood from my face with my palm and found scarlet spots on the skin. I've been in possession for so long that I've already lost track of time. But it was better than facing endless interrogations and forceful methods again. In order not to go crazy, I count the scratches on the seemingly safe walls of my cell and have almost reached a hundred ...

Out of my field of vision, hurried, ragged steps were heard, as if my unexpected guest doubted his actions. I was filled with curiosity, but I didn't move, only peering out of the corner of my eye at the metal that had replaced the wall that opened onto the corridor. But my brain suddenly flashed when something red flashed behind the wall. I turned my head too, extremely sharply when I realized who exactly disturbed my prison peace.

Hux.

Hux!

Hux?

The First Order general stood in front of the door that led to the cell, his face haughty and his chin held high. My brows furrowed as soon as I saw him. He was alone, unguarded, and not even Phasma was around. The corridor was completely empty, only two sides of the same war face to face, separated this time only by an iron grid of bars.

Something was clearly wrong, and you didn't have to be Force sensitive to feel it.

-You,- he said harshly to me. -Come here immediately.

I raised my eyebrows, amazed at the turn of events.

-For what? -I said with a stupid smile. -To what? He grinned viciously, quickly turning his head to the sides, surveying the corridor.

-Get over here quickly, Y/L!- he hissed angrily through his teeth, inaudibly hitting the iron with his fist.

The smile immediately disappeared from my face, and I cautiously got up from the bunk, striding over the distance between them, cautiously pushing my shoulder forward, as if for an attack.

-Closer! You want the entire First Order to run? Stupid revolutionary...!

-Yes, I’m coming!”-I interrupted his angry tirade and slid closer to the grate, crossing my arms over my chest. -What owes such close attention to the general personally?

He rolled his eyes in annoyance at my outburst.

- What, the sadistic vein woke up? Came to take another session of torture? I said that I...

-I'm a spy.

I froze in mid-sentence, interrupted by his sharp, like a shot, statement, and my hands fell like those of a weak-willed rag doll.

-What?- I blurted out involuntarily.

-I'm a spy! How many more times do you have to say it before it gets to your rebel head? I am a spy for the First Order.

My face stretched and my stomach twisted into a tight tube as my mind frantically processed what it had just said and the full meaning finally dawned on me.

-It can not be...

-May be.

-But why?! How so?! - I had a hundred questions and a hundred words spinning on my tongue, but I managed to say only this, and that, with great difficulty. Hux chuckled, eyes flashing.

-I don't care who wins - the Resistance or the First Order, I want Kylo Ren to lose.

-Kriff…- I breathed. Armitage Hux was a fucking traitor, the one who sent data to the Resistance, helped us all along. It couldn't even be called a dream, more like a hallucination, a mirage that caused the hot sun if I was on Tatooine now.

-That changes everything... That's all...- I almost suffocated from everything that was happening. -Kriff...- I looked up at him, thinking that I would find at least a hint that he was lying, but at the mention of Kylo Ren, his face was contorted with such anger that there was no doubt left - he had just confessed to me that he was spying for the Resistance. -And now what? How can I use this information?

Hux lifted his chin again.

- I have data that will be useful to the Resistance. I will give them to you, and you will give them to your general.

-I don’t know if it’s noticeable or not,- I giggled nervously, leaning my shoulder against the cold wall. - But I'm still in the cell. I'm in prison. And a little shocked, but that doesn't matter. Now I wanted to laugh out loud, loud enough for the whole galaxy to hear. Kriff, Poe, and Finn will rip me to the bone if they find out!

Hux rolled his eyes in annoyance again.

- I'll help you leave so that you pay the least attention to yourself and make the least noise. As you usually do, children of Leia.

I thought.

-Why do you think I'll believe you, red-headed bastard?- I said low and softly, staring fixedly at his painfully pale face. He curled his lips arrogantly.

-Don't think. You have no other choice, rebel scum. Well, do you just rot here.

x x x

Surprisingly, this red-haired trickster kept his word and pulled me out of the cell. True, of course, damn it, it didn’t work out without noise, and we drew attention to ourselves. Both. And now Hux was called not a spy, but a traitor and a deserter.

I picked up the stunned stormtrooper's new blaster as I fired at the others around the corner. There was nothing left before the cherished ship, here they are, the cherished couple of meters to my freedom, a little more, and I will again be able to breathe deeply.

I pulled the trigger on the blaster again, glare flickered down the hallway. I saw that somewhere, among the stormtroopers, Hux was flickering - he was darting about in a black-orange spot against the background of light armor and it was hard not to notice him, but he worried me the least while I was fighting for my life again. My eyes were covered with a scarlet veil of excitement and hatred, while the blaster in my hands heated up, and the soldiers remained less and less. Somewhere I heard a loud exclamation, and a strange, dull thud, but I did not pay attention, jumping out from around the corner and removing the rest of the obstacles from the horizon, making my way to the ships.

I looked at every centimeter I passed—quickly, but quickly, adrenaline filled my limbs with unprecedented lightness, blood pounded in my ears, and then my eyes opened and closed several times.

-what, you got shot?- I asked for some reason, as if it was not obvious from Hux, who was pinned to the wall, and a pool of blood near him.

He didn't answer, just looking at me in fear.

-Kriff…- I muttered, shoving the Imperial blaster into my belt. -Where to?-Where is the injury?

He shook his head and I saw how his uniform was smoking in the area of ​​the left shoulder.

-Well, how is it ... - for some reason, I escaped with regret. -Give me a hand. I extended my hand to him.

-Go away,- he fished out a block with information from his pocket with great difficulty and jabbed it at my shoulder.

This made me angry. For some reason I wanted to help him stay alive, he would have died anyway, if I had left him here, he would either bleed out or be shot before I got to the base.

Why am I thinking about this?

I'm sure it's only because he pulled me out of the cell.

Only because of this.

I'm sure.

- And he said that I was a fool, - with an unprecedented force for myself, I grabbed his collar of a black uniform and pulled it towards me, putting the already former general on his feet. Hux immediately hunched over, almost collapsing. -Give at least a modicum of effort so I can help!- I barked at him.

He gave me a wild look, but complied, wrapping his good arm around me like a lifeline.

-You would have been killed here anyway, but at least there is a small chance that you will live longer ...- I muttered to myself under my breath, dragging him along with me. - I'm sure Leia will be very ... glad ...

-She'll kill me.- He protested weakly.

-She won’t kill you,- I drawled. -Other guys are doing this in the Resistance. Moreover, we value guys like you, well, who know a lot about the rear of the enemy. - The power slowly began to leave me, but there was not much left. -Besides, from our base it is much more interesting to watch the defeat of Kylo Ren than dangerously close to him.

Hux mumbled something incomprehensibly, hobbling, trying to echo my heavy steps. Probably agreed. How strange.

x x x

The troughs of the First Order weren't as disgusting as I had previously thought. The general collapsed on another seat, sighing as if he was about to split into two. The ship jumped into hyperspace and I jumped out of my pilot's seat, grabbing my first aid kit.

-Come on, taking off your tunic.-I ordered, and Hux immediately stopped dragging out his extreme drama, again looking at me in fear.

-You look like I haven’t seen naked men.- I grunted, sitting on the floor. -Come on, come on, I’ll treat you, General Hux.

#star wars #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #hux x reader #general hux x reader #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux #general hux imagine #general hux

[shoshiwrites]

7 from the February Nosebleed Club prompts for Jo/Egan🖤 - @lostloveletters

7. "pinky," Bucky Egan/war correspondent OC. @mercurygray or @basilone didn't know they were collaborating with me on this but they did:)

If she’s keeping count, this is the second time Bucky Egan has acquainted his fist with someone’s face on her behalf. 

That she knows of. If she’s keeping count.

Someone. William. Her William. Was. If he’s anyone’s William he’s not hers anymore, as he stumbles back, his fingers grasping at the worn, smooth wood of the bar. Rubbing his jaw as it makes a noise that curdles her stomach. He tries to hit back but he’s too stunned, too fuzzy from the beer, and Bucky just leans back and lets him miss.

His shoulders slope towards her like an aside, as he demonstrates with his hand. Behind them, the publican starts making noises, about the lack of respect, the threat of throwing them all out. It’s all true. She’s seized by a sudden flight in her feet, but he’s standing here next to her, and she doesn’t move. “See, just like I told you, gotta keep the thumb in like this-”

William runs his tongue over his teeth, his voice ragged and angry and different. “Jo.” 

She opens her mouth to speak — to say, she doesn’t know what — but all John does is stand between them, the threat of more should someone dare try, the blood rushing in her ears.

The woman William had been chatting up — the one in the blue dress — the one whose name she does or doesn’t know — is gone. 

And he leaves. Turns and leaves like a coward before she’s had the chance to throw the ring in his face. Not that she's one for that kind of display, but considering that her companion, tall enough that he has to watch his head for the beams, had just been moved to fisticuffs completely sober, well-

It all sounds different now, in her voice. Breaking, light. “John.”

“You alright, Captain?” he says, before he catches himself, realizes what she’s just called him. She’s not a captain tonight anyway, and maybe that’s one in her army of mistakes. Her trousers, her blouse, the medallion beneath the neckline. She wears it now instead of keeping it safe.

Is it raining outside? It smells like it will, or did, when she pushes through the door, the air thick and almost warm. He follows her out, the bike or two parked outside and a jeep. Around the side of the pub, a quiet path.

“Jo.”

What is she supposed to say? William doesn’t think she deserves to be here. William doesn’t think anything she writes is any better than anything any man with a byline could spit up. And she’d agreed to marry him. She’d thought that was ok. 

And John-

The day they’d come back from the scrapped mission, the one she’d been allowed to observe. Observe. A miracle she can hardly still believe, in more ways than one. Dumb luck, more like. It still sets her heart racing, if she thinks too hard about it. 

The ground beneath their feet again, and her knees knocking together and her ankles, the relief. The scarf damp against her collarbone. I knew you’d get up there, he’d said. You don’t let us tell you no. Mention how good I looked flying past you n’ Buck, alright?

Like it wasn’t a question. 

“Jo, tell me you don’t think he’s got the right to do that to you.” She’s frozen, like something could wind back what just happened. Her eyes fill with tears. He sees them, she knows he does. She’s still wearing the goddamn ring. She shakes her head, the smallest noise.

"What do you want, Jo, huh?” The question moves through his whole body, his arms, his hands. He means it, every word. You want me to find him and hurt him? I’ll do it. You want me to go kill a guy, I’ll go kill a guy. I do it all the time, it’s easy. “What do you want?" 

You.

It’s a shock in her chest, for the times she’s thought it before. Like a match lighting in a dark room.

Quieter now, his eyes trained on her. “What do you want?”

“You to kiss me.”

He stops. Only a second, trying to see her in the dark-dusk, against the trees and the tangled hedges, the last slivers of fading light. 

She’s looking up at him, watching him, before he stoops, so close that she can feel the curls against his forehead. A breath, that shaking pause, before he presses his lips against hers. Seeking her. He doesn’t taste like the beer he hasn’t drank, only toothpaste and the smell of aftershave, and warmth, and a little sweat. 

Her top lip in both of his, her hands at his jacket, her fists balled like she’ll drown.

“Easy there,” he says, the words dancing with a laugh, the complete absence of meaning it. She can’t help it, the stupid grin on her face, his hand cupping her jaw, his thumb on her cheek. The way he doesn’t stop kissing her.

The smallest stuttered noise in the back of his throat, the kind she feels in her hips. God-

“John-”

“Say that again.”

She whacks her palm lightly against his shoulder, pulls it back slow as his tongue catches at her front teeth. “Won’t push my luck on a Bucky, then-”

“Since when-” she says, and he wants to laugh again, how breathless she sounds. He’s here, he’s here, for how long, for how long- “Since when don’t you push your luck-”

He smiles against her mouth. The noise of people leaving the pub, or coming in. She straightens up, but he doesn’t pull all the way back. “If that’s all it took to get you to smile-" The back of his neck is warm under her hands, the short hair. He’s a little breathless too, the kind that stops her heart. “Am I better?”

Her lips press the soft spot against the side of his mouth, so firm she feels the gums beneath.  “What do you think, Major?”

He’s beaming, here in the dark. “I think I like it when you call me Major.”

“Do you, now?”

“Or John.” He presses his thumb against her chin, her bottom lip.

“Or Bucky.”

Soft against her ear, his voice. “Or Bucky.”

#masters of the air oc #mota oc #bucky egan x oc #lostloveletters #battie i'm so sorry we did not get any pinkys actually #but uh. we got some other things #shoshi writes #jo's tag #motaverse #1k ????? #i know there are typos and i'll find them once it's posted #blame this show for giving me not one but two bucky kiss scenes to rewatch #officer i've never seen this woman before in my life. etc. #thank you battie for letting me go a little ....this #posting before i can start tearing it apart

[ohmyamor]

Zoro!Mingi

inspired by the live action one piece netflix recently did...

I've never watched the anime and I know absolutely nothing about the lore, I'm literally just going based off my obsession with mackenyu and mingi so please bear with me

thinking about Mingi as Zoro...

hear me out

pink haired, buzzcut Ming??

just green instead

iconic if I do say so

anyway

you live a simple life on a little, fairly unknown island in the East Blue

of course, you're well aware of pirates, it's impossible to live here and NOT have any exposure to them

or their drama

but nonetheless, you stay out of it

you wake up in the morning in your humble little home and go to and from work at the bar

which isn't even really a bar

more like a hang out spot for people who happen to pass by

at most, the bar has like, 10 customers, but even then, they never get too rowdy

it's a simple life, but you're grateful for the peace and quiet

and the stability

so when you wake up one fine morning, you really don't expect anything to be different today

after all, you've lived here for years, and as mundane as it sounds, every day has been the same, day in and day out

you do your morning routine, splashing some water on your face and making yourself a simple breakfast, some lightly toasted bread with butter

and a small glass of milk

you were craving some coffee, but your stash was running a little low and you were not in the mood to go to the market anytime soon to stock up

so, after getting ready and eating your breakfast, you grab your small satchel and leave the house, heading to work

you wave hello to your boss and your other coworker as you walk in, being greeted back enthusiastically by the latter

after putting on your frayed apron and tying your hair up, you walk back out and began helping your coworker wipe down some of the tables

it was a quiet day, only two lone patrons in the entire building

eventually, your boss had disappeared to some unknown area

(probably to flirt with the owner from the store next door, but that's none of your business)

you had sent your coworker on her break, despite her insistence on staying to help you out

"Unless a band of pirates or the marines show up requesting an absurd amount of liquor, I think I'll be just fine managing the two people here" you said

taking a glance at the older man who was passed out on the table with multiple bottles of beer surrounding him, you continued

"and I don't think he'll be much of a problem anyways"

sighing, your coworker relented and thanked you, taking off her apron and disappearing into the back

the sound of the wooden beads that acted as a curtain clinking together brought you out of your thoughts

"welcome in!" you called out, bending down to grab the rag you had dropped before standing back up

the first thing you noticed about the man was just how big he was

he was tall and incredibly well-proportioned

his shoulders were wide and you could easily see the muscles in his arms thanks to the almost-too-small shirt he wore

wrapped around his tiny waist was a black cloth, and hanging from there were sheaths that carried not one, but three swords

quirking a brow, you allowed your gaze to creep up the man's body and towards his face

his hair was cut short, but it was also incredibly green

he had three earrings hanging from his left ear that swayed with every shift of the man's head

the man's face was beautiful, in a somewhat terrifying way

he had plump lips and a strong, straight nose

he had high cheekbones that could probably cut through glass and his eyes were perhaps the most beautiful, yet most intimidating things you had ever seen in your life

you watched as his eyes carefully scanned the room before spotting your figure

slowly, the man made his way to the corner of the bar and pulled out the seat before sitting down

he let out a loud sigh through his nose and looked over at you

"Three beers please"

his voice was so deep, deeper than the ocean surrounding your little island

"Coming right up" you turned around, grateful for an excuse to do something so you wouldn't get caught ogling

quickly grabbing three bottles from the cooler, you popped them open before placing them in front of the man

you sent him a small smile "Let me know if I can get you anything else"

he nodded in thanks before grabbing the first bottle and tossing it back

turning back around, you busied yourself with wiping down the back of the counter, sending occasional glances towards the green-haired man

a few minutes passed of you sneaking glances towards the man before you were startled by the loud sounds of yelling

looking up, you noticed a group of men, pirates, who had entered the bar

they were loud and rowdy, everything a pirate typically was, and you internally sighed

here we go

the pirates walked up to the counter and obnoxiously sat themselves down, ignoring the loud scraping of the chairs from how aggressively they had pulled them out

one of the men eyed you standing there and beckoned you over with a wave of his hand

grimacing, you placed a fake smile on your face and walked over

"what can I help y'all with?"

you could feel the eyes of the pirates moving up and down your body and resisted the urge to shiver

"get us the hardest liquor you have, in bulk, sweet thing"

you internally rolled your eyes, sending the man a curt nod

"coming right up"

-

an hour had passed since the green-haired man and the group of pirates had walked in

your coworker had since come back from her break, and, feeling bad for the poor girl's terrified looks toward the pirates, offered to take care of them while she attended to any of the other patrons

that unfortunately included the man with the swords who had first caught your eye, but you shrugged it off

he seemed to keep to himself, so you figured you could still admire him from afar

meanwhile, the group of pirates you had offered to take care of were slowly testing your patience

ignoring the copious amounts of alcohol they were consuming (you're pretty sure they were about to drink your work dry), they had become increasingly disruptive

the majority of the group were all incredibly drunk, shouting and yelling at anyone who supposedly looked at them wrong and breaking glasses and chairs, practically anything they touched

they had even begun to shout at you whenever they wanted more alcohol

while, to a certain extent, you were used to this, it doesn't mean it didn't get on your nerves

"GIRL!" a loud shout sounded out throughout the room

you sighed, turning around

"get us more alcohol now!" one of the men slurred

he could barely sit up straight and was leaning most of his body weight onto the passed out man next to him

"I'm sorry sir, but I'm afraid I can't give you anymore," you sent him a strained smile

the man's face dropped and a scowl appeared on his face

"what do you mean? You bitch, you're probably keeping it from us!"

his face turned red in anger and he slammed his hand onto the counter

you barely flinched, staring the man down

"Sorry sir, but you and your crew are being too disruptive so I'm not allowed to give you any more drinks today"

turning around, you were about to begin washing some of the other cups when the feeling of something flying past your ear stopped you

something shattered on the wall right next to your head

the gasp of your coworker seemed to echo throughout the otherwise quiet bar

freezing, you glanced down at the floor only to see the remains of a glass cup

"If you don't want that cup to be aimed at your head, you'll bring us more drinks," the man shouted

you turned around angrily

"get out of my bar," you looked at the man in his eyes

he let out a sarcastic laugh

"I'm not listening to some stupid little girl," he snarled

"I'm not going to tell you again, get out of my bar or I have no problem making sure you and your crew will never be allowed to dock at this island ever again"

Can I actually do that? No. But he doesn't need to know that, you thought, secretly praying he wouldn't realize you were bluffing

the man snarled and within a split second, he was lunging across the counter with his arms outreached, attempting to grab you by the throat

you flinched, throwing your arms up in an attempt to protect yourself as much as physically possible from the angry pirate

but hands never came

opening your eyes, you blinked down at the floor before carefully looking up past your forearms

you saw the pirate who had lunged at you frozen with one leg on top of the counter and two hands outstretched

his eyes were wide and they looked downwards

following his eyesight, you couldn't help but gape at the long blade that was being held mere centimeters away from the man's throat

you followed the blade up its hilt and up the arm that was holding it only to find at the end, the green-haired man

he wasn't even looking at the pirate, sitting almost casually at the counter with his other arm preoccupied holding his beer

throwing the last remaining liquid down his throat, the man wiped his mouth before throwing a sideways glance at the pirate whom he still held his blade against his throat

"I think the lady asked you to get out of her bar."

the man's voice was even deeper, if possible

almost as if his voice broke whatever trance the entire bar seemed to be in, all hell broke loose the second those words left the green-haired man's mouth

the other pirates all but growled, immediately yanking out their own swords and charging towards the man

who still sat completely unfazed

"hey!-"

before you could even say anything, the green-haired man was up and had one of his swords drawn

almost as if he was fighting against children, the man was able to completely knock out every single pirate who had charged at him within seconds

you stood behind the counter, staring at him in awe

he didn't even look like he was sweating

the man stood with his sword drawn and pointed at the pirate who had initially lunged at you, head faced downwards

slowly, he looked up and cocked a brow at the pirate

"your move"

the pirate scowled and, grabbing his hat from where it lay on the bar, walked out of the room yelling profanities

and leaving his passed out crew behind

gaping, you watched as the man gracefully sheathed his sword and slowly sat back down in his original seat

you stared at him for a few seconds before grabbing something from beside you and walking over to where the man sat

you placed another beer on the counter and slowly slid it toward him

he glanced at the beer and then up at you

"A thank you," you started, "for stopping that man from trying to kill me."

the man nodded and wordlessly grabbed the bottle, taking a long sip

" I hate pirates like that," he spoke lowly

you nodded

"part of the job unfortunately," you shrugged

the man hummed

it was silent for a few seconds

"what's your name?" you asked curiously

the man glanced up at you through his eyelashes

bringing the beer to his mouth, he spoke over the rim of the bottle

"Mingi."

you nodded

"Mingi.." you tested the name on your tongue

"Well, Mingi, thank you again for helping me. If you ever need anything, I owe you one," you swore, holding out your pinky

the man, Mingi, looked down at your finger before looking back at you with a questioning look

"pinky promises can't be broken," you explained

it was silent for a moment as Mingi stared at your hand

you were about to pull your hand back, feeling embarrassed that you were using a childish action to make a promise

even if you wholeheartedly believed in it

but then

another pinky linked with yours

looking up, you saw Mingi already staring at you, a small smirk resting on his face

"I'll hold you to that, doll."

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

the writing gods have blessed me with inspiration and motivation to write

#mingi x reader #mingi imagine #song mingi x reader #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #mingi imagines #ateez fluff #ateez fic #ateez au #ateez x you #mingi au

[ssuperficialspacecadett]

W o w

2 more stellar chapters!!!!! I can’t wait for our fav receptionist to try out being a ring girl! (Is the asshole guy gonna try something and we get to see Frankie/the guys jump in? Bc protective men is 😭😭)

Anyway I love love love how you wrote the guy’s relationships with each other!!!!

If and only if inspiration strikes, I would love a scene from a “guys night”

Either before our girls comes into their lives or after, just then having fun and being them 🥹 bc I feel a lot of fics over look the importance of their friendship esp in regard to Frankie like Frankie fics will sometimes act like he has had no support until the girl comes in his life but yours just shows how much they all love each other

Doesn’t gotta be long (or even at all!) maybe just a nice lil thing 🥰

Ily have a wonderful day!!

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Best Friends, Beers, and Bets - Through the Scope Drabble

Rating: everyone (just the boys being silly and goofy together)

Word Count: 1K

Notes: hi everyone ! i know i have been gone for a hot minute and i am deeply sorry about that. there has been a lot of not so fabulous things going on in my life and in my mental state that has left with with little motivation to write. the worst part is? im 3/4 done with chapter 11 ... like girl plz just finish that hoe DAMN ! but i found the motivation today to write for this lovely ask i received a little bit ago (: i love the idea of getting to take a peak inside how the TF boys are before Estrella came into the picture. so a very big thank you to @romanarose for this !! chronologically, this takes place before chapter one.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Frankie, Will, and Santi sit together in the back of The Barrel at their usual table. The bar isn't particularly full this evening, but the comforting hum of conversations emitting from the regulars fill the empty chairs. They talk and laugh amongst each other as they wait for their last member to arrive: Benny. It had been only four days since his receptionist quit, but the hurt was apparent to everyone. Usually, she was the one to help him clean up after they close the gym down for the evening. Both of them managed to get it done relatively quickly too. Unfortunately, in her absence, Benny had to do it all himself. The other guys had repeatedly offered to give him a hand in the evenings, but Benny refused. He said that he had it covered and that they should just wait for him at the bar. Not wanting to press him further, the trio would retreat across the street. 

“Here he is! We all thought you fell into the washing machine and couldn’t get out.” Santi claps Benny on the shoulder as he makes his way to buy a round for everyone. 

“You were 15 minutes slower than yesterday.” Will says, tapping his watch while his brother takes a seat next to him. 

“Gee, that makes me feel great! Fish, do you want to rub salt in my wounds too?” 

“I’m just happy you’re finally here, man.” Frankie’s eyes convey sincerity. “But you’re going to run yourself ragged doing all that clean up by yourself. Why don’t you let us help?” 

“Yeah.” Santi rejoins the table and passes out the bottles. A few seconds of silence go by as each man takes a moment to wash away the stress of their day with deep gulps of chilled liquid. “We are offering to help you clean. It’s not like you’re forcing us.” 

Will nods in agreement and tips his bottle in both Frankie and Santi’s direction.

“I just hate the idea of y’all doin’ work I’m completely capable of.” 

“It doesn’t make you any less of a man if we help you clorox a few work benches, Benny.” Frankie says gingerly.

“I know, I know. To be honest with y’all?” Benny scoots closer into the table. “It’s kinda lonely there without someone to talk to in between clients.”

“My bed is going to be kinda lonely too if it makes you feel any better.” Santi offers. 

This manages to get a laugh out of the very tired looking Benny. “Oh is it now? Poor you.”

“Poor me is right! Your receptionist may have kept you company during the day but she kept me company during the night. Now that she's quit, that means I have to as well.”

“That’s not what that means at all, Pope.” Will says with a raised eyebrow. “You can still see her even if she doesn’t work at Brass Knuckles anymore.” 

“Well she also started talking about getting exclusive…”

“And there’s the real reason!” Will laughs. 

“Can we get back to my issue?” Benny begs. “What do I do? No one has answered the ads I’ve posted online. I don’t know how much longer I can handle juggling training clients and taking care of the in between tasks.”

“What about good old fashioned paper flyers? You could give some to me to hang at the auto shop. Will could take some to the VA?”

“Absolutely not.” Santi says with conviction. “I will not have a man take this job and ruin my chances of meeting another beautiful woman.” 

“Fine.” Frankie rolls his eyes. “What about a bookstore or a coffee shop? Does that sound better to you?”

“That’s not a bad idea, but do people even read those flyers? I know I don’t.” Benny shrugs.

“Well you’re not the one that's desperate for a job. I would just make sure you print out the ads on bright paper so it catches peoples eye.” 

“That’s not a bad idea either.” Benny says to his brother. “Still, who knows how long it's going to take before someone calls about it?” 

All four men are quiet as they brainstorm possible solutions to the problem that's currently plaguing them.

“I’ve got it!” Santi snaps his fingers. “I bet you that you can’t find another receptionist within a week of the last one leaving.” 

“Pope, what the fuck?” Benny looks shocked.

“Yeah, why are you actively saying he can’t do it?” Frankie questions. 

Santi only chuckles and Will shortly joins him when he puts the pieces together in his head. 

“You cabrons aren’t listening to me. I bet you that you can’t find another receptionist within a week of the last one leaving. You’ve never backed away from a bet as long as I’ve known you, Benny.” 

“He does love to prove you wrong, Pope.” Will has his arms crossed over his stomach and they rise and fall easily as he begins laughing again. 

A look of realization settles over the two other men.

“Alright, I’ll take you up on that.” Benny and Pope shake hands across the table. “You’re a dick though. She’s been gone for four days now. I only have three days to find someone else to hire.” 

“Damn.” Pope takes a sip of his drink. “I guess you better get your ass into the printer shop tomorrow and make some flyers. If you don’t, drinks are on you when the clock runs out.” 

Will and Frankie cheer knowing that no matter how this bet ends, they will be getting free beer. 

“What happens if a man calls before a woman does?” Benny looks smugly at Pope. “I’m not goin’ to tell him no if it’s in my three day window of search time.”

“Won’t happen. I can feel it in my bones.” 

“Even if, what did you say before, a beautiful woman calls about the job, that doesn’t mean she’ll want to immediately hop into your bed.” Frankie states playfully.

“You think she’s going to want to hop into yours, Fish?”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{tag list: @cutesyscreenname @rsquared31 @smol-beb @bitchwitch1981 @avastrasposts @hoeslingz @saltybutteredtoast @javicstories @c-justhere @pimosworld @modernperplexity @beboldbebravethings @mxtokko @moonliqhtszn @tanzthompson @megcads @myloveistoolittle @casa-boiardi @jitterbugs927 @partyofone3413 @pedrit0-pascalit0 @golden-library @pati-et-vivere @mashomasho @lilmizmoz @angstylittlepascal @sofiparallel @selflcontrol @adriennemichelle98 @painitemoondust @pedritosgirl2000 @tpwkmera @romanarose @missbabyjay @missgurrl }

#through the scope #through the scope drabble #francisco morales #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #i love asks #literally please blow up my asks

[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter Five, Part 4

I let Shaun leave first, after he got caught up on the dishes. There was maybe a rack or two still, but one of us could run it. Adam finished cleaning up his spot and he was next to go. Justin and I were usually the last two of the kitchen, usually him before me, and I'd find him sitting outside at the bar, oblivious to Nugget's flirty eyes.

We finished cleaning and wiping everything just after ten thirty. I had some paper work to fill out but that would take me five minutes. I'd be done by the time my friends showed up. And I'd have time to change.

"I'm punching out then," Justin said, tossing his apron and rags into the hamper. They'd be clean by morning. Not long after, I added my own to the pile of sauce-covered aprons and black greasy rags.

"Alright, have a good one," I said, waving him off, distracted. I hated paperwork but it's part of the job, so it needs to be done. I was almost finished and didn't want to lose my train of thought.

I finished up, filed it, and grabbed my backpack, and headed into the employee bathroom. I quickly changed into my Goth Rock uniform; black pants, a torn up and safety pinned Sisters of Mercy T-shirt, and fishnet sleeves on my arms. My nails were already painted black (which is usually a no no in the kitchen but I said fuck it. I'm wearing gloves anyway). And finally, I threw on some very basic black eyeliner and red and black eye-shadow. I looked like the year 2005's entire mall goth subculture personified. I threw my work clothes into my bag, threw it over my shoulder and headed out to the bar.

Justin was sitting at the far end, and I nodded at him. Amber was basically fawning over him She caught me out of the corner of her eye and started over, stopping to grab a High Life from the beer cooler. I was pretty predictable, I guess.

"Busy night," she stated, sitting the cold beer in front of me.

"Yeah, it was a wild one."

"What's with the Hot Topic special?"

"Going to Club Specter with some friends," I laughed and took a large drink from the glass bottle.

"You? You're going to a club?" She said, mirroring Addison's reaction. Which only caused me to laugh even more.

"Yeah, I guess I am," I said, biting at my lower lip.

"I'm assuming with them," Amber pointed to two people walking into the bar, dressed in all black and wearing heavy makeup. They me sitting at the bar and waved, making a beeline for my little quiet corner.

"Hey man, looking snazzy," Conner said as he sat down next to me.

"What's up, n*****?" Kayla said. She only called me that because she knew I absolutely hated it. It was her entire mission in life to make me as uncomfortable as she can possibly make me. Isn't that a thing friends do?

"Thanks. How come you guys made the trip out tonight?" I asked. Usually, these two weren't so impulsive and made out plans.

"Celebrating. Six months clean from down today," Conner said proudly. There was a very scary time period where Conner developed a serious love affair with heroin. He was practically dead by the end of it, and only got healthy due a bunch of us got together and basically forced him to get clean. I was there, but I said nothing. I didn't have anything to say. I couldn't understand it, and that meant I didn't know anything about it. As much as I wanted Conner to get better, I didn't know his reasoning for wanting to die so badly. And maybe it was a good reason. Everyone makes their own choices.

"Oh, hell yeah, dude. Congratulations. Keep this shit up. I'm proud of you." Kayla and him had started dating soon after he got clean. And she was perfect for him. They both were strange little enigmas, dressing like hippies, but turning around and listening to death metal. Ninety percent of the time, they were stoned. The weed apparently helped Conner stay away from the other stuff.

#fiction #artists on tumblr #writing #my writing #spilled words #writers on tumblr #poets and writers #writeblr #creative writing #writerscommunity #writerscorner #writer #lierature #cynical #cynic #free verse #free form #Stories #autobiographical fiction #art #literure #howispentmysummervacation #september sky

[nightqueen1221]

Hello! It's me again thank you for doing my request! :) Can I request Meliodas and male Y/n having a lazy day at the tavern, please? Just a calm oneshot full of fluff, please?

AGAIN TO ALL THE PEOPLE I'M LATE TO, I WAS BUSY AND JUST STARTED THE DAY I POSTED THIS STUFF AHHHHHH!

    It was a calm day in the spring, the tavern wasn't busy, and the weather was just perfect. Which was the perfect combo for you to spend time with your boyfriend. He was wiping the counter down with a rag. He let out a sigh of relief before putting the rag back behind the bar.

    "Finally, some peace and quite." He said.

    "Do you know what that means?" You asked, hoping he would know the answer.

    "Hmmm, no?" He quizzed.

    "We get the whole day to ourselves!" You spoke walking over to him. You then wrapped your arms around him from behind. He pulled your head into his neck and kissed your cheek softly.

    "I guess we do." He chuckled. "But what do you wanna do?" He asked.

    "I didn't really have an idea." You admitted. He looked up at you with a devious smile.

    "Well then, how about you help me clean?" He smirked. You looked down at him with a stare.

    "If it's really what you wanna do..."

    "No, no, I was joking. I don't think you would want to spend the day like that anyway." He smiled. "But really, what do you really want to do."

    "I was thinking more along the lines of just cuddling or something like that." He nodded in response. He then pulled you over to a comfortable seat and squished you in close. His arms embraced you in a tender way. You followed as he did. He felt so warm, like he had been wanting this forever. Holding on to you as if for dear life. It seemed this is all he wanted. You loved it so much it could make you heart melt.

    He rested his head on your shoulder slowly moving his hand up and down your arm. The temperature was perfect that day, the sun was out giving the room just the perfect amount of sun. It looked as if it was from a romance movie.

    "You know I love you, right?" Meliodas whispered in your ear. This question made you smile.

    "Of course I do, always and forever." You replied. "Always."

#meliodas #anime #x reader #nanatsu no taizai #nnt #seven deadly sins #sds x reader #request #meliodas x reader #the seven deadly sins #7ds #7ds meliodas #7ds meliodas x reader #sds meliodas #Sds meliodas x reader #Meliodas x y/N #male reader

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Surprise Sunday Morning Breakfast (Stephen Holder Drabble)

Fandom: The Killing, Stephen Holder, f!reader

Summary: After a horrible week, your boyfriend surprises you with breakfast in bed.

Word Count: 832

The last few weeks had been some of the hardest of your professional career. At work, several people had been out sick, one woman just left for maternity leave, and one of the company’s biggest clients just demanded an important rush job to be finished by the end of the week (even though this type of project normally took a month to complete). So, even though you had been one of the only ones holding the business together and it was Sunday, you had to go into the office again today. But at least, at this moment, curled up under the covers in bed, you could try to forget about all of that.

That was until you felt a small nudge against your shoulder. You ignored it, trying to cling to the last remnants of sleep. But then there was another, harder nudge, this time digging into your ribs. Groaning loudly, you rolled over, trying to escape the early morning attack. Your alarm hadn’t gone off yet, so you knew you still had some time to sleep. That was if your assailant left you alone.

But then, the smell hit you. A buttery, sweet aroma that made you moan in delight as your mouth began to water. Turning back over, you cracked open one eye to see your boyfriend standing over you, grinning like the idiot he was. Stephen was wearing his “O.G.: Original Grilla” apron and holding a tray loaded down with food.

Sitting up with a yawn, you asked sleepily. “What’s this all about?”

Stephen’s grin widened as he gave a little shrug. “Made ya breakfast in bed. I know you been havin’ a rough couple of weeks and we ain’t gonna get to spend the day together, so I figured I’d do somethin’ for ya now. Got all your favorites: chocolate chip pancakes, coffee with all that crap you put in it, and some fresh fruit ‘cause we both know you need to eat more of that.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, then said, “Baby, you didn’t have to go to all this trouble. I was just going to grab a granola bar from the breakroom at work.”

“Exactly. You’ve been runnin’ yourself ragged these past few days and you need ta eat somthin’ good for once. Can’t have you gettin’ sick too.” He placed the tray on your lap and sat down on the edge of the bed. Carefully cutting into the pancake, he lifted a forkful to your lips.

You quickly ate the bite and let out another moan as the flavors coated your tongue. “I still don’t know how you do it, but your pancakes are the best I have ever tasted! You have got to show me how you make them.”

“Yo, if I did that, you wouldn’t have a reason to keep me around anymore. That secret’s goin’ with me to the grave!”

You chuckled as he fed you another bite. “That is a very good point. But there are a few other reasons I keep you around too.”

“Really? What?”

“This for one.”

You grabbed him by his apron and pulled him into you., his mouth pressing into yours. His tongue ran lazily over your bottom lip, savoring the remaining syrup that lingered there. But as he leaned deeper into you, you gasped as hot liquid covered your lap.

Jumping to his feet, Stephen realized he had knocked the tray of food over, covering both of you and the bed with the remains of his lovingly prepared meal.

“Ah, shit!” He ripped the covers off of your legs, trying to keep too much of the mess from soaking through to your bare legs. Running his fingers over your warm thigh, he asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah, just a little heat, nothing I can’t handle. But I should probably be getting ready for work anyway. Thanks for the breakfast, baby. It was delicious.” You placed a sweet kiss on his cheek and climbed out of the soiled bed. “Do you think you could clean this up?”

He nodded as he started peeling the dirty sheets off the bed and you couldn’t help but watch him. Unlike all of your past relationships, Stephen had no problem doing “woman’s work” around the apartment. He helped out with the dishes, the laundry, the cleaning, and he ended up cooking dinner more often than not when he wasn’t busy with a case. And something about seeing him gathering up the stained bedding while still wearing his ridiculous apron made your heart flutter.

Glancing down at the time on your phone, you saw you still had another hour before you had to leave for work. Sneaking up behind Stephen, you kissed the back of his neck and whispered, “Actually, I have to go take a shower. Want to join me?”

Whipping around, Stephen dropped the sheets that had been bundled in his arms and followed you almost hypnotically as you beckoned him to follow you into the bathroom.

#sfw repost #drabble #stephen holder drabble #stephen holder #detective stephen holder #stephen holder x reader #stephen holder x you #joel kinnaman #the killing #fluff

[sihakadan]

vander x enforcer reader if youll do it. tragic or tension pls!!

Oooooh . Time for sad.

SFW I guess? No sexy times but implied stuff. Probably full of mistakes because I am bad about proofreading.

No matter what you and Grayson came up with, everything worked against you. The kids had to be brought in, there was no way around it without a full on war between the enforcers and the people of the undercity.

But it hurt so much because you'd be betraying him. Vander, your sweet, sweet Vander.

It didn't matter to you that he had a past, that he had done some horrible things. You were an enforcer and served a corrupt system and somehow, he over looked it.

When you became an enforcer, it was to protect people, to serve your community but you very quickly learned how deep the corruption went and how much no one cared about it. Grayson was corrupt but in a way that kept the peace and you could respect that.

But now this greenhorn Marcus was going around causing problems, sticking his nose where it didn't belong and it was getting so out of hand-

Maybe you could convince Vander to offer up someone, anyone, to save his people from the impending march into Zaun.

It was the hope when you took off your uniform, put a breather mask on, pulled up a hood over your head and slipped down into the undercity, keeping to yourself as much as you could so you wouldn't draw attention.

The Last Drop was closed but you had a door key for 'visits' and it was the time of night that the kids would be sleeping, Vander would be cleaning up. You quickly unlocked the door and slipped in, pulling off the mask.

"We're closed." You could see him behind the bar, sweeping up broken glass, a rag over his shoulder.

"I hear the drinks are terrible anyway." You chuckled and pushed your hood back.

He turned, a bit surprised to see you but it turned into a smile as he leaned against the bar. "Total shit." He laughed back.

You made your way to the bar, sitting on the stool and just looked at him. He was tired and you could tell this was wearing him down. "Vander-"

"Don't, love. Just let me look at you for a bit longer." He took your hand in his large one. "I don't know when I'll see it again, you know?"

"People will die, Vander." You leaned closer, pleading. "I don't want to see you on the battlefield. Please." Your hand tightened.

"Y/N, you know I can't." He said gently, calloused thumb running over your knuckles. "They're my kids."

Yes and they weren't bad kids either, just dealt a shitty lot in life. Just trying to survive the Lanes. "I know." Tears pricked your eyes. "I know and we tried, Grayson and I but it is out of our hands now. The council is involved."

He reached up and gently wiped a tear away. "I know you did, love. I know you tried. You always do."

"I should have quit, come down here when you asked me to." You thought you could help him more as and enforcer, keep him safe and be a barrier between the two. "We could have..."

"Don't do that to yourself. You're a good person. You were doing what you thought was right." But you knew it broke his heart when you rejected him.

The two of you just looked at one another like it was the last time and slowly your foreheads touched, your hand going to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "It doesn't have to be them, Vander. It could be anyone-"

"You know the answer to that." He stopped you. "I can't sacrifice my people."

"Vander, please." One last plea, one last hope.

He inhaled deep, his eyes opening and meeting yours. "I'm sorry, love."

Quiet sobs shook your body and you almost jumped over the bar to wrap your arms around his neck. With his great strength, he pulled you across and into his arms, stroking your hair and pressing kisses to your temple.

Once you calmed down and got the worst of it out of your system, you pulled back just enough to cup his face in your hands, running your fingers over his jaw and cheeks. "Can we just have one more night? Like nothing is going to happen? Just us?"

A chuckle rumbled in his chest and he put a hand over one of yours, pressing a kiss into the palm. "You didn't even need to ask, love."

It would be the last time he ever held you.

#arcane netflix #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane x reader #arcane vander #arcane vander x reader #vander x reader #been a shit week so taking it out on fictional characters

[meatriarchived]

❛ You have to live. ❜ | @lifesver

:) me when i slide over a perfectly normal-sized response- cw of course for death & guns & sad & hoyt and yknow yknow.

( it wasn’t supposed to be like this. )

air was harsh to draw in and push back out — fire burned in her lungs while they ran, aimless, along tunnels and rooms that seemed to never end. leading to large, heavy, locked doors barring their way out of this fucking hell of a maze.

( they were never supposed to be here. )

his hold on her hand, pulling her forward with him, made her stumble over her own feet every few steps. desperation was settling into him. desperate, determined, pleading for a fucking way out, a door, a lockpick, a ladder, any of the others — just fucking SOMETHING to give them both HOPE of getting out of there.

( HE WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE HERE. )

the puncture wound she’d gotten from the huge one — the one called thomas - when she had tried to wriggle away from him, hours before she had run into her friends and sister, before she had been restrained onto butcher block, had arm and leg carved into…

( WHY DID HE COME HERE? )

the wound, of point of hook that curved through her stomach and inward, just missing bottom of lung…it was getting to her, slowing her down, dizzying her. blotches of black and stardust clouding her vision as she felt piercing pain within her ribcage as she struggled to catch her breath. and by the time she could manage to speak, her voice was nearly wheezing out of her - strained, quiet, hoarse.

it was his name wretchedly stumbling past her lips that reached him, from frantically looking around them in every direction, mind racing and eyes studying every possible nook and cranny he could as they ran to find something, just, fucking SOMETHING-

“ lee — leland, plea- i ca- ”

his name in her voice broke his concentration, enough for him to look back over shoulder to her, beginning to ask her what was wrong, but instead stopped dead in tracks when he realized he’d been dragging her along with him — how she heaved to breathe, sweat coating her face and shoulders and collarbone, how pale she’d become. 

( he needs to get out, he needs to find the others and they all need to get out. )

curses and apologies flood out from him immediately, concern and worry sticking to his features like the sweat on his skin stuck clothes to his back, as he turned and took her by the shoulders, easing her to a crate nearby and having her sit to catch her breath, to rest for as long as they could manage to do so.

his sorries poured from him still, as she breathed raggedly, trying to focus eyes on him but everything was swimming around them — she felt nauseous, lightheaded, there were three, two, four of him distorting as he knelt beside her, trying to speak to her, waiting for responses, but all she could offer were incoherent stammers between lungs working to steady between the pain, between the heat and the chill fighting one another in her chest and skull.

( you’re slowing him down, hisses her mind. you’re going to get him killed. he needs to leave you here, save himself. you won’t make it anyways. he needs his strength to get out — not to keep worrying over or carrying you. )

he lets her stay there, on the crate, as he takes off to scour around the rooms nearby - maybe in hopes of finding a bottle of antiseptic, maybe for some kind of water and rag to wet and cool her off.

either way he kept coming back to the alcove of the tunnel they holed up in, checking in on her every other minute it seemed. he was growing more antsy with every time he peered to make sure she was still fine, worry deepening the furrow of brow when he would ask her if she was feeling better, and all he got in return was a faint nod. unconvinced. before he finally came back — empty-handed — and knelt beside her once again.

he lightly pushed strands of her hair from her face, ignoring the clamminess of her skin, holding palms to her cheeks as he looked at her, pleading for her to say something, tell him she was alright, apologizing yet again for running her for so long-

“ stop- lee, plea- please… no sorries, you- you have nothing- nothing to say sorry for… ”

her voice spilled out of her not without consequence. the pain shot right up her spine, radiating across nerves with every word, making her wince with every one she spoke, but she couldn’t listen to him apologize to her — not when she was the cause of everything, why they were even there in the first place, why they were all going through this shit,

“ you need, lee, you just have to- to go, okay? ”

her eyes lift to meet his, blurred his face quickly becomes from tears that film over pleading hazels. “ please, i’m slow— i’m slowing you down, i - i can’t, i can’t run— keep up, i’m gonna get you, get you hurt even more, ” hands reach up, taking hold of his, squeezing them lightly, reassuringly she hoped in some kind of way, and her head shook side to side as she watched his expression fall, staring back at her in horror, in shock.

“ i’m, begging you lee, please… ” maria choked out, as tears began to streak down her face, “ you have to, to get out, leave me here o - okay? ” her head gives him a small nod, as if solidifying this compromise — as if she believed he would have ever listened, like he would ever agree to such a decision, “ th - the others, they need you more, i - i don’t think i can make it — i’m sorry, for everything, all, all of th - this, but, y - you have to leave me, o - okay? please— ”

“ no. ”

a word so simple, so short — said with the most certainty — as he cuts her off, head shaking as he pulls his hands from hers. i’m not leaving you screamed from his expression, his eyes, as hands fiddled behind his neck, unclasping cross necklace from his throat and reaches over, ignoring her hands as they try to stop him, as she asks him what he’s doing.

he doesn’t answer immediately, not until he’s fought with her hands trying to place chain loop into clasp at the back of maria’s neck, as hands move to cup her face again, brows pinched together, eyes not straying for a second from hers, " i am not leaving you here alone, to die, maria. you have to live. we’re going to get out, i promise. you hold onto that for me, alright? "

before she could protest, he is knelt again with back to her, twisting to take her hand and pulls her, gently but still urgent, up off the crate. maria could feel her heart drop to her stomach.

( she knew he wouldn't listen — she still had to try- )

reluctantly she obliged him, letting him hoist her onto his back. standing with her, arms hooked under legs to keep her up as he continued through the tunnels. she may as well be useful, she thought, and look around for a sign of anything helpful...

it took some minutes, walking in silence, before maria spotted a container through the gaps of wood to their left, and pointed it out to him. " m - maybe there's something in there? " he nods as his gait kicks it up a notch to find a door, a gap — no, a crawlspace to slip through around the corner, kneeling to set her down. glancing back as sheet metal CLATTERED AND ECHOED throughout the otherwise silent tunnel. he told her to stay there, on the other side, for now. he was going to dig through the box, and then look around for a way out real quick — to call out to him if anything happens, but to take it easy for now.

maria simply nods, not willing to protest, not with how heavy the air felt at the moment.

and so she had watched him, disappearing through gap by the floor, and she found herself lowering down, to watch him through it as he made his way cautiously to the toolbox, opening and as quietly as possible dig through it.

maria watched his face, as he mutters curses and pleads to himself, watching his features as he dug as quiet as possible through random shit that probably filled that container, like the others before it. watching his expression sour as mouth moves, muttering curses under breath as he searched and dug until finally — features softened into relief, into hope, and leland turns to the crawlspace, to her peering up at him through it, and flashed her a grin — still trying to be reassuring, still trying to instill some kind of optimism for them that they truly could get out.

as he, attempting to lighten the mood, holds up lockpick in hand triumphantly and starts to proudly tell her that see? they've got this! does he realize her face has twisted into horror at something behind him, and as she shrieks for him to RUN, the butt of shotgun cracks into the back of his head, knocking him forward face first into the ground.

maria dives forward, grabbing leland's hands and tries to drag him closer toward the crawlspace as he lifts head in a daze, as charlie — 'sheriff hoyt' — steps closer, unnerving grin plastered on face as eyes linger on maria grabbing at leland, nearly sobbing and desperately trying to pull him through to her side.

charlie leans down, grabbing ankle and yanks him right back — a feeling that seems to bring clarity back to leland's face as he twists to look back and with other leg, KICKS at charlie's arm, at his chest, his face, forcing him to let go. he scrambles to hands and knees, and leland looks at maria through the crawlspace.

and in that moment of eyes meeting, of apologetic sadness flashing in his eyes, in his smile, maria stares back — horrified, as she reaches for him again, grabbing his shirt, tugging him, pleading with him to come over as he in turn rips her hands off him, softly telling her that she had to live, to please give his mother his cross when she gets out, please. i'm sorry.

and then he leans forward, and with one good shove to the middle of her chest, she's sent tumbling back into the tunnels behind her, and the clattering of sheet metal falling — closing up crawlspace between them — traps him in there, with charlie.

the wind was knocked from her as she tried to scramble back to feet, ignoring blistering pain in her chest as she grabbed at the base of metal, frantically trying to pull it back up — hearing the sounds of struggle on the other side, of pained grunts, of muffled taunts and laughter, of leland cursing the old fucker out, of him shouting for her TO JUST RUN FOR IT.

and just as she manages to pull metal back up, part of the way, can see their shadows on the floor. she hears leland stumble back, closer to her, and then a click-

and then the metal, the walls, her ears SHAKE with the sound of SHOTGUN BLAST cracking through the air.

and she sees blood spurt across the floor.

and watches one of the shadows stay still as the other stumbled, and then a loud THUD as it hit floor — just out of sight.

she froze at the silence that followed, the dread that settled in her chest. she heard footfalls, slowly walk closer, stopping just beside body. and then she heard a sneer, and a taunt, from the old man...

and maria knew, as she stared at the ground, at the blood that pooled across it, inching closer...

was leland's.

she heard the bastard looming over him, kicking at him, spitting vitriol down at unmoving body, before the amusement of it faded, and charlie's footfalls finally left the fucking room, and in the distance, hears the sound of door opening and slamming shut.

maria stayed still. afraid he would come back, yes — but mostly? afraid of what she was about to see on the other side.

but she knew she had to.

and when she finally gathered herself up, through shedding tears, trembling hands, does she take hold of the metal once more, and pulls it up, letting it jam back open before dropping to hands and knees, peering through at leland as she slowly crawled back through.

and when she could look down at his face, she simply broke.

his jaw shattered and hanging off. cheek shredded by shotgun shell. all crimson all gore and little remaining of one side of face that remotely resembled the friend she knew. if he had lived any point past the shell hitting him, surely the amount of blood that haloed around his head, soaking brown locks, seeping into fabric of his shirt, did him in.

either way, his remaining eye — at least from what she could tell — held no sign of life, no shine save for what tears had seemed to have welled in them during his stand-off with the old bastard.

and maria had no idea what to do. what to say. she couldn't carry him. she had to leave him there, in this hell — leave him to rot, leave him to these fucking people to do god knows what to his corpse...

it wasn't fair. that he laid here lifeless, and this fucking family got to live.

it wasn't fair that HE is the one dead on the ground — it should have been HER.

HE SHOULDN'T HAVE EVER BEEN HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE.

maria crumpled into herself beside him as she wept, with head placed gently against his chest, with cheek pressed against marigold embroidery, as now her own useless apologies bubbled and spilled past sobs to him — for getting him into this whole mess, for him feeling like he had to play the role of a HERO for any of their sake, let alone for her.

he didn't deserve this.

she wished the tears that soaked through threaded petals would bring him back, entice his soul to return to him...so he could go home to his mother, rather than her simply getting a cross in his place.

#lifesver #[ mf ] ── * 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃. { maria flores. } #death cw #gun mention cw #injury mention / #violence cw

[armpirate]

UNDER YOUR SKIN || JJK || Ch. 3

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: You were awful on anything related to flirting, guys and sex. He was the perfect ladies man. You wanted to get rid of your virginity. And he was there to help you with everything you needed. You didn't have the best start, but that didn't mean you wouldn't have the best of the endings.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

I drag the humid rag over the counter, cleaning the stains that -at some point in the evening- started being part of the decoration of the wooden surface along with the few empty glasses Tammy, my co-worker, kept gathering next to the beer tap. 

I hate being behind the bar right after Tammy because of this.

She throws the empty metallic tray before both of her elbows rest on the counter. It doesn't take her long to move them back up, just as soon as she realizes I've been cleaning up what she didn't.

—I swear if one more asshole touches my ass... 

—Kick him —I shrug—. Isn't that why you've been boxing?

—That's why I started —she corrects me—. The reason why I'm still going though...

—Oh, your boxing crush —I nod—. Gotcha. 

Tammy is still standing there. Probably waiting for me to go on and ask her a thousand questions about that crush she has talked about non-stop. 

—And that's it? You aren't going to ask if there's something new?

—No —I answer, moving to the beer tap so I can start picking the empty glasses up—. It's not like you need me to ask anyway. 

—You're right —she laughs—. He might come with his friends tonight —I nod, she already told me this earlier today.

And just like she told me, her group of friends show up half an hour later, when we are about to close. It's not a big group, and they don't look like the people I'm used to seeing Tammy surrounded by. They look... normal.  Don't get me wrong, Tammy is great, but her friends have always been the type of people you would love to kick for being too loud next to you. Yes. Definitely that type.

She's laughing and talking to two girls, while the other guy is just looking at his phone. And, right at the same time I'm eyeing them, Tammy spots me and waves at me to join them. I don't really want to, but she insists.

"Take any change you can to meet new people. Get out of your comfort zone" I roll my eyes when that phrase pops up in my mind. I'm annoyed, but at the same time, that dude wasn't wrong. How am I supposed to meet new people if I keep closing doors? 

And since the pub flirting didn't work two days ago, I should stick to meeting people that are friends with my friends -or coworkers in this case.

I look around, and confirm there aren't a lot of customers left before I start walking to the table where Tammy is more than comfortable now. She just sat right next to the blonde girl like she isn't on her shift at this exact moment. I'm about to turn around and go back to the counter, but Tammy's warning gaze just tells me she'll be a pain in the ass if I end up doing that.

—Guys, this is y/n —she introduces me to her friends as soon as I reach the table.

Everyone there greets me and assures me Tammy has talked a lot about me. And that makes me feel bad instantly, for the thought I had earlier of her not being totally my friend -at least, I don't think we've been around enough to be considered as such. They all introduce themselves: Melanie is the blonde girl with a white charming smile -and by her accent, I'd assume she isn't from here, maybe Boston-, Lucas is the blond guy who only lifts his gaze from his phone to look at Tammy every once in a while, and Jungsoo is the asian girl, brunette short shoulder length hair, that welcomes me to the conversation, although it's the first time she's ever seen me. 

They tell me both Soo and Lucas met Tammy in one of those kickboxing classes, and Tammy met Soo's boyfriend when she got that butterfly tattoo she got on her shoulder, while Melanie was already friends with Soo because they both went to the same college. And just that way, the conversation swifts to a topic I don't like and that reminds me why I'm working in a shitty bar this late into the night. 

—Fine Arts —I try to suppress the usual annoyed tone that comes with it.

—Really? —Soo asks surprised— My brother also studied that degree, but he wasn't lucky finding a job he liked.

Well, at least he was lucky enough to find a job and quit only because he didn't like it.

—He started working with my boyfriend on a business he opened, and just stayed there —she mentions—. Have you ever considered doing something on your own?

I know the question is genuine, I know she's just being curious since she found someone who was just as unlucky as her brother. But unlike him, I don't have the resources of opening anything on my own. Imagine thinking I had them, but I'm still working here by choice? I'd kick myself to death if I ever did something like that.

—No —I shake my head—. I'm sure there will be something out there for me sooner or later. I have the gift of patience, so...

And that's probably why I still haven't found a proper job as a designer. Fuck, even a simple job in an art gallery would make it for me. At the end of the day, it's what I studied for. 

Soo moves her hand up, moving her locks away from her face, and I can't help but notice a familiar tattoo on her wrist. But before I can think too much about it, I see her pointing at me before asking:

—Are you working next weekend? 

—Hmm no.

Which always translated to me as: waking up at three in the afternoon, doing the laundry, maybe grocery shopping... Adult things, basically.

—We rented a cabin —she sips her beer before looking at me again—. It's Melanie's birthday, and we usually go to Lake Seneca to celebrate it.

What does that have to do with me?

—Tammy is coming, too. And a few other friends —she continues—. My brother's ex-girlfriend was supposed to come, so now we have space left. If you want to join us...

—I don't know —I doubt—. We just met and it's your birthday —I point to Melanie—. Having a stranger around...

—That's how we all started —she shrugs—. Also you're Tammy's friend, so you're fine. The more we are, the better. We all were strangers at some point.

—If it's fine for you.

Melanie nods right away, assuring everything is fine and I shouldn't be worrying. Soo talks again, trying to comfort me when she realizes I'm still not totally convinced.

—My brother is in a similar situation. He started going out with us not that long ago.

The difference is he is your brother. While I've just learnt today I'm close friends with Tammy. 

In one of those trips my eyes make all over the bar, I spot one customer waiting in the counter, resting both of his arms on the surface while he's looking around for either of us. Warning everyone that I'm going back to work, I start heading there. 

While I'm busy with the customer, I hear the door opening and closing almost instantly. And that only causes me to beg people stop coming.

It's late. They all should be going to sleep. I want to go back home and let the mattress absorb me. But doesn't seem like that's what Tammy wants me to do, when she waves at me again once the customer leaves.

#fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #tattoistjk #tattooau #armpirate