#as for recognizing you I’m sure I could catch your staring eyes if I really look for them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joonberriess · 8 months

Text

𓆩♡𓆪 “you don’t have to admit you wanna play, just let me rock you till the break of day,” – jock!jk

·˚ ༘ 💌 TAGS — simping at its finest, blowjobs, cum-swallowing, degradation, dumbification, jk is mean but also a praise fanatic, oc is a cute puppy who eats it all up, objectification(?) pretty sure bc jk just has unholy thoughts about oc, oc is THEE it girl, dirty talking, messy lil make-outs, thank you kiss on the tip LOL, PET NAME GALORE, oc is a nice lil bimbo everyone loves ❤️ even jk’s friends luv her

Jungkook listened to whatever the hell Jennie was explaining to him, in truth he stopped paying attention like five minutes ago. He sat there like a fried vegetable just zoning out and nodding mindlessly whenever Jennie looked at him and asked if he agreed etc. He didn’t want to be rude to Jennie but any more of this and he’d go insane he fears.

“So for the powerpoint I was thinking we should..” Jennie’s voice slowly fades out as the sound of the front door opening catches Jungkook’s eye/attention. Holy shit he doesn’t believe what he’s witnessing. He doesn’t realize he’s staring hardcore at Jennie’s poor unsuspecting roommate.

He instantly recognizes you as the girl he sees his team/friends go crazy over. You were quite the talk of the campus—cute, slutty, bimbo-like, these were some of the most common things said. If Jungkook had to admit, you were pretty cute and he’s only ever really seen you casually here and there. He finds himself licking his lips slowly and sitting up while clearing his throat.

“Hi Jennie, hi Jennie’s friend.” You sweetly say while waving at Jungkook politely. He gets an eyeful of tits and soft tummy as you pass by.

You’re wearing this soft pink tracksuit and white baby tee crop top which hugs your pretty little tits just nicely. Don’t even get him started about your backside which is enough in itself to bring a tear to his eye. Jungkook doesn’t realize he’s overdoing it with his staring until Jennie clears her throat pretty loudly.

“Ahem.” She glares at him, “As I was saying,” she shoves her laptop in Jungkook’s face.

He doesn’t see more of you because you end up heading down the hall to your room after saying “bye-bye” to both him and Jennie. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He grunts in annoyance.

“Not my roommate Jeon, you can go about fucking anything that fucking walks and has a hole between their legs but you leave y/n out of your lechery. Got it?” She hisses, “I can see the gears working in that stupid head of yours, so I’m warning you. Now help me with this powerpoint asshole, I’m not doing all the work.”

Jungkook internally groans—overprotective roommate, greaaat.

Whole time he works on the project his mind is filled with obscene thoughts and nasty little daydreams he comes up with just thinking about you. Jungkook’s had his fair share of hook-ups but none have ever truly made him go this crazy before. He’s fucking FIENDING for it, would be on his damn knees begging for you to crush his head with your soft thighs if he could.

Too bad Jennie said you were off-limits though. Unless..

Much to Jungkook’s dismay he doesn’t see you for the remainder of the time he’s there. He does see you more often around campus though, whether it’s you hopping out of your very pink car or you running about all over campus with a pink drink in your hands. He can’t get enough of you, and it’s fucking obvious to his friends who make fun of him for it.

“y/n, Kook? Really?” Yugyeom snorts, “Only in your fucking dreams will you ever hit that, your little guy down there probably wouldn’t even know what to do with all that ass.” Laughter all around them erupts as Yugyeom smugly smirks, happy with himself.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You’re so fucking stupid,” more laughing, “honestly, if anyone has more chances it’s me, you’re all either losers AND she’s never bat an eye at you. I don’t see any action from any of you either, all talk and shit.” He mutters while taking a drag from the blunt they were all passing around.

“Not true! y/n is a nice girl Jungkook.” Jimin snorts, “Watch,” he turns around and looks over the area for you, “hey y/n!” He yells while waving his arms. They all wait patiently for your reaction, low and behold you just end up proving Jimin correct.

You look confused at first until you smile brightly, “Hi,” you wave back while walking over, “what are you guys up to?” You tilt your head, lips pursed in a adorable little pout.

“Smoking.” Yugyeom replies curtly, “Want some?” He holds the blunt out to you.

Jungkook doesn’t know why but that shit irks the fuck out of him, he shoots his friend a glare and fans the smoke out of your direction before it can hit you. You smell like chai mixed with pumpkin, and he definitely does NOT want to ruin your pretty smell.

“No thank you,” you politely reply and then turn to look at Jimin again, “ ‘m a little sad though, because this morning I tried to make waffles but I didn’t know you had to actually pull the lever down and I didn’t get to eat my waffles.” You sigh wistfully, “See?” You hold out the raw and cold waffles wrapped up in a napkin, “And I don’t like it,” you shake your head, “you’re my friend right Jiminie? Can you buy me some waffles from the cafe pretty please?” You whine.

Jimin turns a little red at the nickname and nods, “Here,” he holds out a couple of bills, more than enough.

The other guys scramble for their wallets, “I’m your friend too right y/n?” They say while holding out their own money to you. Jungkook just stands there slack-jawed, he has never seen his own friends this fucking down-bad before. Oh, but they wanted to laugh at him for simping after you? Funny how the tables have turned.

“Reallyyyy?” You breathily giggle while accepting the money, “Thank you!” You kiss Jimin on the cheek before skipping away with literally breakfast, lunch, and dinner money.

“But I’M the fuckin’ simp? Yeah, totally.” Jungkook scoffs while shaking his head.

Jungkook starts making up an excuse to talk to you from then on. He doesn’t have to do much because you do all the talking for him, he just stands there listening to you ramble on and on about something he doesn’t recall asking. He thinks it’s cute when you stop mid-sentence and say in utter confusion, “What was I talking about again?”

If he could, he’d sit there and just listen to you talk all day. He’s surprised how much he likes your ditziness and dumb little brain fart moments, he finds that he doesn’t mind it so much. Like now, he was sitting there propped up against his car in the parking lot listening to you rant about astrology, time-loops, and anime..?

“Yeah?” Jungkook occasionally says while he watches you passionately explain to him what a fucking shinigami was.

“Think about it—politics and death notebooks, they go hand in hand for disaster and doom.” You softly say, completely side-tracking from the original topic, “I wish I had a shinigami though,” you pout while tapping your finger against your chin, “I think Ryuk is pretty cool. Have you seen the anime?”

Jungkook hums, “No, heard of it but haven’t seen it. So like, shinigami’s come with a death note or what?” He asks, ready for another little rant of yours (he doesn’t mind though). His eyes fall down to your pretty camisole you wore today. You were wearing these cute tight jeans that hung low on your hips, he loved the little pink bows you attached to the belt loops.

“Mm-hm,” you nod, “oh! I gotta go before I forget, all my undies shrunk in the dryer and now they’re pretty tight ‘n they fit a little smaller so now I have to buy some more.” You pout, “Bye Jungkookie,” you throw one arm around his neck as you side-hug him, standing on your tippy toes to reach his height as you press a kiss to his cheek, “bye-bye!” You wave and run off.

“Bye..” Jungkook whispers in awe, he smells a hint of your perfume on his shirt and he vows then and there he isn’t going to wash this shirt anytime soon.

The next time that Jungkook sees you it’s when he’s leaving your shared apartment after another project session. He sees you bent over while poking and trying to pull at the gas tank lid, which is obviously sealed shut. He whistles under his breath and walks over, eyes dropping down to your perky ass which is covered in these pretty little shorts which hug both cheeks nice and tight.

“What you doing down there, hm?” Jungkook leans against the car with his arms folded over his chest and an amused smile on his face, “Having fun?”

“Jungkook, hi,” you greet softly while standing up straight, “I was just trying to get this stupid thingy open because Jennie is letting me borrow her car cause mine is in the shop getting the windows tinted,” you pout, “but I don’t know how to open this stupid thing, and I wanna fill her car with gas as a thank you for letting me borrow it. Help meeeee,” you whine tugging at his arm.

“C’mere,” he loosely wraps an arm around your waist and guides you to sit in the driver's seat, “you see this baby?” He squats down so he’s eye-level with you, his free hand rests over your soft thighs while he points with his other, “You just pull this, and wa-la, the gas tank lid pops right open.” He chuckles and squeezes your thigh.

Your eyes brighten, “Reallyyy? How cool, thank you.” You happily throw your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, “no wonder that stupid thing wasn’t opening.” You giggle.

Jungkook takes a deep whiff of your soft coconut smell, he closes his eyes and sighs in pure bliss. This was the dream dammit, he never wanted to leave this spot EVER. “It was no problem really.” He mumbles more to himself while he stares at your pretty tits.

Fuck the friend code (if you can even call Jennie’s threat that), friend code didn’t have a pair of child-bearing hips and a ass shaped like a fucking peach like you did. Who was Jennie to keep all of you to herself so selfishly?

“Jungkook,” you softly say, “ ‘m gonna give you a thank you kiss.”

Jungkook laughs in amusement over how proud of yourself you look right now, he finds himself shaking his head and speaking in a lower pitched tone, “Yeah, where? Right here?” He turns his face to stick his cheek out.

A tiny little giggle escapes your lips as you nod at him, “Mm-hmm, right there.” You lean upwards to kiss his cheek gently, emitting a soft smacking noise as you happily smooch him. “There.” You say more to yourself.

Jungkook’s eyes drop down to your jiggly boobs which are pretty much in his face at this point. Your camisole somehow dips lower as your tits sit perfectly pushed together to accentuate their size. He tells himself not to but his dick seems to say otherwise as it stirs up in the confinements of his boxers. He already knows he’s about to be sporting a hard-on by the end of this interaction so he gives in.

“Want another kiss..” He mumbles while licking his lips, “But not on my cheek..got somethin’ else you can kiss.”

Your eyes follow his line of sight and you come across the very prominent bulge sitting behind his sweats. Your cheeks feel hot from embarrassment as the familiar throbbing sensation forms between your legs. Jungkook sees this when you suddenly begin rubbing your soft thighs together while staring back at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Whaddya say baby,” he lazily grins, “can I get that kiss?”

You stare back at him with those sweet puppy eyes of yours and nod eagerly.

Lips smacking against lips and quiet little moans/noises fill the otherwise dimly lit car (God bless his Mercedes for the interior lighting). You were tucked away on his lap in the backseat of the car, windows foggy and all as your hand slipped from the glass. Jungkook could die a happy man right now with the way he had a handful of ass sitting in the palms of his hands. He gave your soft cheeks appreciative squeezes as he kneaded the flesh roughly—greedily.

His own lips were a bit swollen from the hot make-out session but he didn’t mind, you were one hell of a kisser. One thing he didn’t see coming was how much of a little sex fiend you were, he swears he can’t keep up with how needy and slutty you are. He almost finds it cute how you pout and beg for him to let you have it while simultaneously humping him and refusing to let him part from the kiss.

Jungkook raised his hand and brought it down hard on your ass cheek, relishing in the resounding slap noise and how it recoiled/bounced in place. A slutty little moan escapes your lips as you pull back and pant softly against his lips, “Take ‘em off,” you slur softly, “hate these stupid shorts, gettin’ in my way.” You mumble with a tiny pout.

“Gonna let me see what’s underneath baby?” He looks up through his hooded eyes, grinning when he sees you eagerly nodding back at him, “Yeah? Go on then, slide ‘em off baby, show me what you got on.” He smacks your ass and gropes it harshly, only letting go when you whine at him while unbuttoning your shorts.

He swears under his breath as soon as the button pops open and you slip the zipper down. The hem of your undies comes into view, he sees a tiny bow sitting at the top so innocently and he can’t help but wonder what the rest of your panties are like.. Jungkook reclines back on the seat and parts his legs to make room for you.

You manage to slip your shorts down your thighs slowly with your hips swaying from side to side. Jungkook lets out an audible groan when he sees the cheeky undergarment that was hiding underneath. “Well don’t you look pretty,” he comments while running his hand over your ass, “bet you look prettier under.” He mumbles while licking his lips.

“But what about your kiss?” You pout.

Jungkook smacks your ass wickedly, “Don’t give me that fuckin’ pout. Didn’t know you were that eager to suck my cock, ‘s all you’re good for isn’t it baby? Just a dumb little thing who needs her mouth filled huh?” He grins when he hears you moan, “You gonna be a good little cock sleeve for me?”

“The best,” you happily slur, “ ‘m gonna swallow every last drop, promise.”

He finds it endearing when you hold your pinky out to him, and not wanting to be mean he hooks his pinky with yours, “Good girl.” He brings you in for a gentle little smooch, “Gonna ruin that pretty face of yours baby,” he whispers in-between kisses, “get on your knees for me.”

Jungkook finds that he likes how submissive and responsive you are to him, makes it a hundred times sexier in his opinion. You sink to your knees in front of him without missing a beat, you have your hands set over his knees as you sit there waiting with puppy eyes. “Go ahead baby, ‘s all yours.” He chuckles.

You eagerly paw at his sweats and with his help pull them down alongside his boxers until his fat cock is springing out and slapping against his lower abdomen. Your mouth waters when your eyes land on his perfectly sculpted cock, now you wanna feel it inside of you more than ever. His cock lays against his stomach, flush at the tip with prominent veins on the underside of his shaft.

“ ‘s mine…?” You whisper breathily while pursing yours lips, “ ‘s so pretty..” You’re talking more to yourself as you grab ahold of his throbbing cock and bring the mushroomy tip to your lips. Your tongue pokes out as you swirl it over the head, moaning softly at the tangy taste.

Jungkook bites down on his lip as he watches with hooded eyes, he can’t believe his wet dreams are coming true. Did he save an entire country in his past life? Made sense with how lucky he was right now. He brings his tattooed hand over the back of your head as he simply rests it there, letting you explore his dick like if it was a lollipop or some shit.

Your lips wrap around the head as you make these sloppy little sucking noises. Trickles of saliva begin to trickle down his cock, you use it as lube to stroke his girthy shaft—twisting and turning your hand around it while you noisily swallow around the tip. Jungkook’s lips part with breathy sighs escaping him, he relaxes into the seat and leans his head back with his eyes slipped shut.

You’re working wonders on his cock right now with the way you’re slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth. “Like that,” he whispers more to himself as he moans out again when you dip your tongue into the sensitive slit of his tip. Your strokes become slower but much more intense with the pressure you start applying. It’s getting a lot harder now to control himself from bucking his hips or something.

“Shit, don’t tease me baby,” he groans, “been thinking about your pretty little lips wrapped around my cock for weeks now. Knew you’d look pretty with a mouth full of cock.” Jungkook opens his eyes again to admire the view. “Open up for me baby,” he reaches down to thumb at your lower lip, “there you go—like that.” He grins.

He feeds you more of his cock watching as you eagerly take more and more until the tip hits the back of your throat. It sends you into a small gagging fit but the vibrations and pressure of your throat closing around him definitely sends zaps of hot pleasure down in his groin and lower belly. “Shit.” He groans loudly.

You whine around his cock and pull away to catch your breath, his cock slips from your mouth with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. Jungkook hisses quietly under his breath and reaches down to stroke his slicked up cock, “Messy little thing you are.”

“Off, off, ‘s my turn.” You huff cutely before swallowing his cock in one go now that you’re a bit more prepared.

It takes Jungkook by surprise as he groans loudly and throws his head back. You begin working wonders with that sinful tongue of yours, pairing it with some mean ass sucks. He lets his hand slip from the back of your head to the nape of your neck, just holding you there as he lets you do your thing. You begin bobbing your head slowly while noisily swallowing around his cock.

“Fucking hell y/n,” he whispers slack-jawed, you’re a damn menace. How the hell is he supposed to last? “You just needed something to fill that needy hole of yours didn’t you?” He pants softly, “Knew the moment I saw you that you were made for my cock baby. If only you could see yourself now.” He licks his lips and gives your neck a small gentle squeeze between his fingers.

You slurp up all the slick you leave behind on his cock, your hand sits at the base just idly gripping him while your mouth does all the work. You pull all the way up until the tip sits in your mouth before you swoop back down to take all of him in. He repeatedly hits the back of your throat but you do a much better job at controlling your gag reflex this time around. Your sloppy pace definitely has Jungkook moaning and grunting under his breath.

“Gonna cum,” he sighs, “keep going—like that.” He whispers as a full body shudder falls over him.

You eagerly pull off his cock and begin stroking him at a frantic pace. You watch with glee as his cock begins to throb in your hold, but you don’t let it deter you one bit. You’re eager to see him cum, you want it all in your mouth. “Like this?” You say this while squeezing around the tip and flicking your thumb over it.

Jungkook gasps softly, “Fuck..!” He hisses.

You smile deviously and bring the tip over your lips, “Or like this?” You whisper, blowing softly over his sensitive head before you take him back into your mouth.

Jungkook lets out a mantra of “fucks” and “yes’s” as he reaches down to grip his cock, his hand covers your own as he begins moving your hand up and down on his cock. You suckle at the head and watch as he comes undone. “Oh fuckkk..” He whispers as his cock throbs, cum shooting down your throat as you swallow around him greedily.

He slumps in the seat and pants quietly while watching you clean his dick with your sinful little tongue. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum that hard in his entire life before. He saw the pearly white gates of heaven just now.. “A-Ah shit, no more baby, ‘s sensitive.” He chuckles breathily when you try to suck on his (slowly softening) cock.

You pull back with a cheerful smile on your face, the corner of your mouth has drool and a bit of cum but you don’t seem to mind, “ ‘s so pretty.” You coo like his dick is the most amazing thing ever, he watches you lean over to press a tiny little kiss to the sensitive head.

Are you even real??

“C’mere,” he pats his lap, “I saw the way you were humping your own hand like a bitch in heat the entire time you had my cock in your mouth.” He says as he hauls you up, “You also deserve a nice little thank you, don’t you baby?” He grins while stroking his hands over your soft cheeks.

You nod eagerly, “Mm-hm,” you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, “do you wanna come upstairs after this? I wanna introduce you to my bunny Luna! Oh, and we can watch some anime together because I think it’s lame you haven’t seen Sailor Moon OR Death Note.” You huff in disbelief.

Little did Jungkook know that by saying yes to all that he’d end up staying for wayyyyy longer than he initially planned. You becoming (a important) part of his life was a bonus. <3

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

2K notes · View notes

floralcyanidee · 9 months

Text

ᴛʀɪᴘʟᴇ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ

Bruce Wayne x Reader x Jonathan Crane (NSFW)

When you notice Dr. Jonathan Crane watching you and your husband at a fundraising party, you get a little curious. When Dr. Crane angers you, he presses you to explore that anger. Will he regret it?

warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (both vaginal and anal), oral sex, cock warming, anal sex, anal fingering, blowjobs, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, porn without much plot, masturbation, forced masturbation, threesome, male x male, male x female, male x male x female, cum swallowing, spitting, face sitting, face fucking, crying, sub/dom tones, dom!reader, sub!jonathan, kinda sub!bruce but not really, ya know, just pure filth

word count: 5254

author’s note: welcome to our one-way ticket to hell besties <3 I didn't proofread this because it just poured out of me and I was truly possessed by the writing demon today. I had an idea and literally ran with it. I don't think I've ever written something so filthy before lol please enjoy and give feedback!! READ THE WARNINGS this fic isn't for everyone tbh.

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

MOODBOARD FOR THIS FIC

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

One thing about being married to the Bruce Wayne was he had a thing for throwing parties and fundraisers at your mansion. This meant you had to dress up quite a bit, and you had to look really good as you were Bruce’s wife, of course. He always ensured you had the newest and most gorgeous gowns to show off at the gatherings. You’d spend the whole day getting your hair, makeup, and nails done, only to be at the parties for a few hours. And that was usually because Bruce had other duties in the city, he got too distracted by what you were wearing and needed you right then, or he simply let his antisocial side creep up on him. Tonight at the fundraiser he’s throwing, he seems content and has been by your side most of the night. Nothing drastic was going on in the city that demanded his action. But something was bothering him, you could tell. He’s slightly off, and you catch him staring at someone in the crowd a few times. You’re never able to pick them out, though.

You and Bruce are by the champagne table, and you notice Bruce is gazing out into the crowd of partygoers again.

“Bruce?” you ask softly, putting a hand on his bicep, “You alright?”

Bruce blinks hard a few times before turning to you, “I’m fine, darling.”

“You sure? You seem distracted by something this evening,” you scan the room, but to no avail for whomever Bruce is focused on.

“I just thought I recognized someone,” Bruce says, sipping his drink.

“Hmm. Alright, then.”

“Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” Bruce smiles, letting a hand slide across the small of your back.

“Only about a thousand times,” you giggle, leaning into your husband.

You happen to look up, and that’s when you see him staring at the two of you. Dr. Jonathan Crane. He quickly averts his eyes away, but you have already caught him.

“Is it Dr. Crane that you recognize?” you ask Bruce, motioning to where he’s standing with some other rich psychologists.

“Yeah,” Bruce exhales, shrugging, “I thought he had left the city a while ago.”

“After the asylum got turned loose? I figured so, too. Oh well,” you say, looking up at Bruce, “If he’s here, then he’s donating, so maybe it’s not so bad.”

“You have a point,” Bruce raises his eyebrows, “I’m still keeping an eye on him, though.”

You knew of a few of the villains Bruce has come in contact with, including Jonathan. He had almost killed your best friend and sent the whole city insane. Who knows what would have happened to Gotham if it weren't for Bruce. But a part of you is curious about Jonathan- a deep, intellectual part of you. Why is he still here? Is he still a doctor? Your brain becomes dizzy with all the questions. If Jonathan is here acting casually on his own accord, you could, too. You tear away from Bruce without a word, drink in hand. Bruce calls after you, panic surging through him when he realizes where you’re headed.

“Dr. Crane,” you smile upon arriving in front of him and another psychologist, “Wonderful to see you here.”

“Ah, Mrs. Wayne. I wouldn’t miss a marvelous party for a good cause. Have you met Dr. Robin here?” Jonathan smiles back, not missing a single beat.

“I have not,” you look over to the tall woman in front of Jonathan, clad in a pantsuit. You reach out a hand for her to shake, “Y/N Wayne.”

“I know who you are, Mrs. Wayne,” Dr. Robin says politely, her Australian accent strong, “Your dress is quite lovely, I must say.”

“Thank you,” you reply with a smile, willing her to leave so you could speak with Jonathan alone.

“Well, I’ll be off. Seems you two have something to discuss,” Dr. Robin announces her departure, much to your relief.

“It was nice meeting you,” you say sweetly as she walks away.

“You as well, Mrs. Wayne.”

You turn to Jonathan, who clears his throat as he looks you up and down. You’re nearly the same height as him, if not slightly taller, in your heels.

“It’s really brave of you to be here, Dr. Crane,” you turn your head to the side, giving him a closed-lip smile.

“Please, call me Jonathan,” Jonathan responds, “And what would you mean by that?”

You take a step closer to him, leaning into his ear, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Jonathan. Or should I say, Mr. Scarecrow.”

Jonathan doesn’t flinch. In fact, he grins at you as he exhales a laugh, “Those days are behind me, I’m afraid.”

“Uh-huh,” you cross your arms, “And why should I believe you?”

Jonathan glances behind you to look at Bruce, who is on edge and watching the entire conversation to ensure nothing is tried. A muscle in Jonathan’s jaw twitches, “You don’t have to. But if I were up to no good, why would I be in the presence of the Batman and his lover? Quite unintelligent, wouldn’t you think?”

“And why are you here, exactly?”

“Trying to get myself back into the Gotham scene,” Jonathan looks at you matter-of-factly, “I’ve missed a lot being gone, you know.”

“Oh, I do know. And maybe you should’ve stayed gone,” you try not to snarl at him.

“Now, now, Mrs. Wayne. That is no way to speak to a donor,” Jonathan says, his voice dripping like honey with malice.

“You better be glad there are people around or-”

“Or what?” Jonathan asks, raising his eyebrows, a smirk itching at his lips.

“I’d fucking break you right here.”

“Sounds like a fun time. However, I’m not sure your husband would appreciate that in many, many ways.”

You scoff, “Don’t be crass. I’m not flirting with you. If I were, you’d know it.”

“There’s a fine line between desire and hatred, my dear,” Jonathan whispers in your ear, causing goosebumps to arise on your skin, “It’s a fun line to walk.”

Annoyance swells in your chest. You desperately wanted him to shut his bratty mouth. You also wanted to enjoy the rest of the party, but now that Jonathan had you riled up in anger, you wanted nothing more than to slam him against the wall and-

“Everything okay over here?” Bruce approaches suddenly, taking you by surprise.

“Everything is fine, sweetheart,” you place your hand on Bruce’s chest as a warning, “Nothing to worry about.”

“Dr. Crane isn’t bothering you, is he?” Bruce’s nostrils flare.

“Not at all,” you defend the doctor, “In fact, I’m probably annoying him.”

Bruce laughs humorlessly, “Oh, is that so?”

You cock your head at him, “Did you need something, dear?”

“Just want to speak with you privately,” Bruce says.

You go to say something, but Bruce interrupts you, “Both of you.”

If Jonathan is just as confused as you are, he doesn’t show it.

“Lead the way, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce walks briskly to one of the guest rooms down the hall from the ballroom, making sure no one is following or watching the three of you. He ushers you and Jonathan inside, following suit before closing the door behind him.

“You know,” Jonathan says, breaking the silence, “I never pegged Mrs. Wayne for the threatening type out of the two of you.”

You bite your tongue, and Bruce looks over at you.

“Say what you want to say. I brought the two of you in here so you could solve your conversation away from those nosy fuckers outside,” Bruce rolls his eyes, fixing his cuff links.

“We aren’t children, Bruce,” you scowl.

“Then act like it,” Bruce sasses back.

“I do not need two men on my bad side right now. Remember what happens when you’re on my bad side, Bruce?”

Bruce looks between you and Jonathan, a hint of nervousness in his eye, “Don’t bring him into this, darling.”

“No, no. I’m curious now,” Jonathan grins deviously, stepping closer to you, “What happens when someone is on your bad side, Mrs. Wayne?”

Now realizing how your words and threats may have sounded all night to Jonathan, you backpedal.

“Not what you think, Dr. Crane,” you cross your arms, taking a step back from the doctor.

“Oh really? So your antagonizing and threats don’t mean anything?”

“What do you think they mean?”

“As I said earlier, desire and hatred are very close to one another,” Jonathan says suavely, “And I honestly can’t tell which you feel toward me.”

You make a disgusted sound despite the growing need to pin this man down and give him what for. Not even sexually, but simply because you’re tired of him speaking. However, Jonathan wasn’t bad-looking by any means- and sometimes, you and Bruce liked to try new things. But you don’t think Bruce would want to fuck with a murderer and criminal, especially one he’s had close encounters within the city. Jonathan almost burned him alive once, so you aren’t sure about whatever he’s insinuating going very far with your husband.

“Hatred,” you spit, “It’s hatred. Plus,” you look over at Bruce, “I don’t think my lover would appreciate me having anything to do with you anyway.”

Jonathan snorts, his eyes flickering between you and your husband, “Are you so sure about that?”

You furrow your brow, laughing incredulously at him, “I’m certain.”

“I don’t know,” Bruce says suddenly, “I wouldn’t mind seeing the fucker squirm on your account, Y/N.”

You nearly gasped, suddenly very aware of the animosity you were aiming at Dr. Jonathan Crane, now becoming sexual in nature. Not that you meant for it to, but now that it was insinuated out loud by someone other than Jonathan, you pondered your true feelings. As you’ve said, Jonathan was a looker. If you weren’t married to Bruce and the man wasn’t psychotic, you wouldn’t mind taking him for a ride. But you are married, and he is psychotic.

Jonathan has his hands shoved in his pockets, a smirk on his face as he studies you, “You want this. Don’t deny it, Mrs. Wayne. I can tell by the look in your eyes.”

You purse your lips together, “What I want is for you to shut up and behave. All you do is act high and mighty when you’re nothing but a little rat.”

Bruce tries to hide his laugh by covering it with a cough, “I’ll let everyone know it’s time to leave. When I come back, you two better be taking care of things.”

You look at Bruce, who gives you a slight nod in approval to do as you wish before he steps out of the room. No one is in charge in the bedroom permanently between the two of you. The dominant role is shared or is back and forth, depending on the day. To your shock, Bruce gives you the complete reins in this situation. But Bruce knew how much you despised Dr. Crane for what he’s done, even if a part of you is desperately curious about him. Desperate enough to demean him sexually, even. You want to humiliate him. Make him cry and make him regret having even come here. You want him to think of you whenever he feels shame or embarrassment for the rest of his life.

“A little rat, huh?” Jonathan chuckles, undoing his cufflinks.

“Yes,” you blink, forcing him to walk backward to the bed as he struggles to remove his blazer.

You shove him roughly onto the bed, watching him bounce from the mattress with a look of disorientation. Jonathan eventually gets his blazer off, discarding it onto the floor. You can’t properly climb on the bed with your gown on, so you reach behind your back, undoing the clasps that hold the silver dress together. You kick off your glittery heels, letting the gown slip to the floor in a pile. Underneath your dress, you decided a black lingerie set would do nicely. You’re glad you picked well, considering such a doting man was now staring at you like you were a piece of meat and he was starving. You try to ignore the logical side of your brain telling you this man is dangerous and crazy. But the other side of your brain is telling you that his cock is definitely dangerous and crazy, too. And you wanted to find out for sure.

“Now,” you begin to crawl to where Jonathan wordlessly lays, watching you carefully, “Are you going to be good and keep your mouth shut, pretty boy?”

“No promises,” Jonathan flashes a toothy grin, and you angrily rip his button-up open, buttons flying everywhere across the room.

Jonathan’s mouth hangs open, “That was an expensive shirt.”

“Nothing you can’t replace,” you shrug, running your hands along Jonathan’s handsome chest before letting your nails graze his nipples.

Jonathan shudders at the feeling, and you remove your hands from him, sitting back on your heels, “Lay on the pillows.”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” Jonathan purrs, doing as told, surprisingly.

You hear the door open behind you, and you turn around quickly to see Bruce.

“Everyone is cleared out. Brought some fun stuff, too,” he places a box on the floor, kicking it to the end of the bed for you to grab it.

You lean down over the edge of the bed and retrieve the box, crawling on your knees to where Jonathan lies. You open the box and hum in satisfaction at Bruce’s choice of toys and trinkets. You fiddle with one toy, dragging your gaze to Jonathan with a wicked smile on your face. But before you reveal the toy, you snatch some rope out of the box.

“Now you have no choice but to be good, Dr. Crane,” you snicker, offering Bruce some of the rope to tie Jonathan’s left wrist to the bedpost with.

You tie Jonathan’s right wrist tight enough for him not to move too much but not enough to where blood flow is cut off. Jonathan tugs at the rope, looking at you and Bruce with a nervous yet exhilarating smile.

“I’m privileged to be living such a fantasy,” Jonathan sighs.

“You’ll be wishing you had never stepped foot in this house when she’s done with you,” Bruce smirks, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and rolling his sleeves up.

“Ah,” Jonathan laughs.

Before he can comment any further, you shove a ball gag into his mouth, strapping it behind his head securely. A deep feeling of satisfaction to him finally being quiet fills you. But the joy of seeing such an evil man at your mercy is more intense.

“You better be glad I chose the ball gag instead of having Bruce have his way with that pretty mouth of yours, Crane,” you say, and Bruce shakes his head from where he stands beside the bed.

Drool begins seeping out of the sides of Jonathan’s mouth, and you can’t help but coo at the sight of his tightening pants and his reddening cheeks. You grab his face between your fingers, squishing his flesh. You hum in satisfaction before letting go of his face and focusing on his slacks. You all but tear his belt off his hips, hurrying to unbutton his pants before ripping them down his thighs. Bruce removes the pants the rest of the way as you climb onto Jonathan’s lap, your clothed core atop his throbbing, leaking bulge.

You kiss Jonathan’s jaw, leaving harsh bites along the column of his throat as you travel down, continuing your assault on the skin of his chest and torso. You reach the band of his underwear, which you tease with your hands, snapping the band against Jonathan’s skin. He tries his best to laugh from underneath the ball gag, spit sputtering from the gaps of his mouth. You slowly peel his underwear down his legs, watching as his hard cock slaps against his stomach. You let Bruce pull the underwear off completely, and he tosses it somewhere in the room to be found later. You lean down to lick the bead of precum off Jonathan's tip before pulling away completely, allowing Bruce the room to tie up the doctor’s ankles to the bottom bedposts. You stand at the foot of the bed, chuckling darkly as Jonathan struggles against the restraints.

“Not so powerful now, are you, Dr. Crane?” you laugh, knowing he didn’t like you calling him by his professional name, “You look so pathetic, lying there with your poor cock out for us to see. Bet you wish one of us would touch it for you, hmm?”

Jonathan stays silent, his eyes boring into yours as he yanks his arms, testing the rope’s strength. He realizes he truly can’t move or speak and that he’s entirely at you and Bruce’s mercy. Not the worst position to be in, Jonathan thinks.

“Which of us should do the honors?” you ask Bruce, a playful smile on your face.

It isn’t often Bruce gets to mess with the other man during your experimental sexual encounters. Still, you figure this is personal enough for him to want to be involved.

“You can take this one. I’ve got other plans,” Bruce says, smirking deviously.

“Oh really?” you grin, “I’m excited to see those.”

You climb back on the bed, moving toward Jonathan’s lap, where his weeping cock is getting redder by the second. Grabbing the base of it, you move it forward enough for it to meet your lips. You lap your tongue on Jonathan’s tip, smearing the precum around before licking a stripe up his entire length. You pull away, letting his cock slap painfully against his stomach again. You harshly grip Jonathan’s balls, causing him to cry out muffled. You massage them as you take his length into your mouth, bobbing your head as you continue to take him in entirely. You press your breasts into the bed, letting your ass be exposed for Bruce to take advantage of as you suck off Jonathan. Bruce wastes no time walking over to you, letting his hands run over your asscheeks before he pulls your pretty black underwear off. Bruce dips his head down to flatten his tongue against your wet slit, gathering your arousal as he swirls it around your cunt. You moan around Jonathan’s cock, causing him to twitch.

“God, I love this pussy,” Bruce pants against you, “Too bad you can’t get a taste, Crane.”

You peer your eyes up to Jonathan’s, his icy blue eyes now dark from his blown pupils. He’s glaring at Bruce, trying to regulate his breathing as his tip hits the back of your throat. Jonathan’s eyes roll into the back of his head as you fuck him with your mouth, letting his cock slam into your throat. Jonathan tries to thrust into your mouth, but you push his hips down against the mattress. You’re slobbering, and tears are streaming down your face as you take his length as much as you can, wanting him to get as close to cumming as possible. Bruce sucks your clit harshly, letting two fingers slip into your wet pussy. You groan, the vibrations sending Jonathan batty. You feel him getting close, and you blindly fumble around for the box of toys that still remains on the bed somewhere. You find it, pulling off Jonthan’s cock as it twitches uncontrollably. He growls as you find the toy you were looking for. You give Jonathan a few pumps, gripping his length as tight as you can, watching as the precum helplessly spills from him. Before Jonathan can react or cum, you slip a cock ring onto him, sliding it down to his base. He cries out from behind the ball gag, his chest heaving. You lay your head on his thigh, watching as his cock turns bright red. Bruce continues to eat you out, his teeth brushing against your clit occasionally, causing you to moan. Your breath hits Jonathan’s angry length, making him shiver. You look him in the eyes as Bruce adds a third finger, fucking into your g spot harshly as he bites at your bundle of nerves. You maintain eye contact with Jonathan as you cum, letting your nails dig into the soft flesh on his thighs.

“Lucky for me,” you trace Jonathan’s tip teasingly with your finger, catching your breath, “I get to cum as much as I want.”

Jonathan stares at you without making a sound, focusing on his breathing so he doesn’t explode into a fine mist from the overstimulation.

“Now it’s your turn since you’ve been a good boy,” you remove the ball gag from Jonathan’s mouth, licking up his spit from his lips before he can lick it off himself.

“Open your mouth,” you demand, and Jonathan does as told.

You gather his and your saliva in your mouth before spitting it onto his tongue.

“Now show me how good you are at eating pussy, Dr. Crane.”

You flip yourself around, hovering over Jonathan’s face as you slowly remove the cock ring. Bruce removes his button-up, laying down between Jonathan’s spread legs. Jonathan lets out a strangled cry at the feeling of Bruce’s hot mouth on his sensitive cock. You push your pulsing cunt onto Jonathan’s face, to which he happily starts lapping hungrily. You watch as Bruce hollows his cheeks around Jonathan, and the sight alone makes you even wetter than before.

“Fuck,” you mutter, Bruce’s eyes meeting yours.

You rock your hips against Jonathan’s tongue, urging him to continue. Jonathan wishes he could bury his fingers in your cunt, but he settles for his tongue instead. Twisting and pushing it inside you, he uses his nose to press against your clit, shaking his head. You grip Jonathan’s hair, cursing at the feeling of his tongue dragging in your walls and his nose flicking your bundle of nerves. You grasp your barely clothed breasts, letting your thumbs play with your nipples through the thin lace. Bruce moans around Jonathan while watching you, letting Jonathan fuck into his throat.

“Wanna cum, you piece of shit?” Bruce pulls off Jonathan, who gasps a ‘yes,’ “Be careful what you ask for,” Bruce chuckles.

You plan on milking the doctor for all he’s got all night. You want him spent and begging for mercy. Anything to make him miserable.

Bruce takes Jonathan back into his mouth, bobbing up and down quickly and stroking what he won’t take into his mouth. Bruce allows Jonathan to buck his hips into his face. Jonathan lets out a pitiful cry as he cums in your husband’s mouth, white-hot spurts of seed shooting down Bruce’s throat. You feel Jonathan roll your clit between his teeth before sucking it between his lips as he rides his high. You growl, letting your self-control go out the window. You chase your own high, letting Jonathan torture and tease your bundle of nerves with his tongue and teeth until you finally release in his mouth. Jonathan slurps and suckles every drop of your arousal from your cunt, licking until you pull off him.

“Lucky for you,” you pant, beginning to untie the rope bound to Jonathan’s wrists, “This next part requires your cooperation. Promise you’ll behave?”

“Yes, Mrs. Wayne,” Jonathan nods.

You let Bruce finish untying the doctor as you discard your bra. You instruct Jonathan to move to the side, allowing you to lie down in his place. You demand that Jonathan climb on top of you. he does as told, and Bruce roughly pushes Jonthan’s face into your chest. You laugh at Bruce’s typical roughness, especially when it makes Jonathan look flustered. His ass is now in the air, revealed to Bruce.

“Have you ever been fucked in the ass like a good boy?” you ask Jonathan, your fingers in his hair.

He doesn’t look at you or respond.

“I’m asking you a question, Jonathaaan,” you say threateningly, your fingers now gripping his hair harshly as you lift his head for him to look at you.

“No,” Jonathan says breathlessly.

“Well, that’s about to change,” you say, “Any regrets about being smart-mouthed to me yet, Dr. Crane?”

Jonathan glares at you, panting as Bruce spreads his ass apart, “Not yet.”

“Good,” you smile, letting his head drop abc to your chest, “Now obey me and show me how much you’re enjoying this.”

You move Jonathan’s face, maneuvering his mouth to your hardened and sensitive nipple. Bruce takes some lube from the box he brought, smearing it against his fingers before teasing Jonathan’s asshole with the tip of his index finger. Jonathan keens around you, his body beginning to shake as Bruce slowly pushes a finger inside him. Jonathan sucks harshly on your nipple, gasping as your husband wiggles his finger inside his tight ass. He laps at your bud, focusing on trying to please you and taking Bruce’s long finger simultaneously. A second finger is added, stretching Jonathan further. The doctor lets out a sharp groan at the delectable burn. He attacks your other breast, letting his finger circle around the one he was just attached to. Bruce prods a third finger into Jonathan, and he lurches forward from the feeling of fullness.

“If you think you’re full now, just wait for Bruce’s fat cock, baby boy,” you taunt.

Bruce twists and curls his fingers inside Jonathan, doing his best to prep him for his unforgiving length. When he pulls his hand away, Jonathan gasps from the sudden emptiness. Bruce spreads his ass apart again, his slacks and underwear now discarded as his hardened cock pressed against Joanthan’s gaping hole. Jonathan whimpers around your nipple, pausing momentarily as Bruce slides himself into Jonathan.

“Fuck,” Jonathan shudders.

“You can stop now. I need you elsewhere,” you pull Jonathan’s head off your breasts, sneaking your hand between the two of you to his newly hardened cock, stroking it in your hand in time for Bruce to bottom out.

Jonathan whines, collapsing on your torso as the air leaves him.

“Tapped out already?” you pout, sticking your bottom lip out at Jonathan when you lift his head by his hair again, “Too fucking bad.”

Bruce then pulls out of Jonathan almost all the way before slamming back into him, his tip brushing against Jonathan’s prostate. Jonathan screams as you guide his cock between your slick folds, his body overstimulated. You let Jonathan weakly push his length inside your soaking cunt, your walls enveloping him immediately. Bruce wraps an arm around Jonathan’s chest, anchoring himself to the doctor. His other hand grips Jonathan’s hip with intensity. The feeling of Bruce pounding into Jonathan’s tight little ass affects you directly as Jonathan pushes deeper inside you every time Bruce thrusts into him. Soon, a rhythm is established, and you’re nearly in tears from pleasure as you watch Jonathan become a withering, crying mess underneath Bruce.

“Doing so good taking Bruce’s huge cock,” you praise Jonathan, bucking your hips with his every time he involuntarily moves forward, “You could at least try a little harder to fuck me like you want to, though.”

Jonathan’s forehead is teeming with sweat as he struggles to actually thrust into you while Bruce fucks into his prostate. You give him the benefit of the doubt- the first time getting fucked in the ass is intense. So you rock and swivel your hips on Jonathan’s cock roughly, letting him reach up to grab your breasts for leverage. He pinches your nipples, twisting them hard, sending electricity to your cunt. You pulse around Jonathan’s length, causing him to grunt miserably. Bruce’s hips are slapping onto Jonathan’s asscheeks loudly, and Jonathan’s cock twitches pitifully inside you.

“Cum, sweet thing,” you coax Jonathan, whose hair has long since lost its gel hold and has begun flopping into his face, “Cum inside me.”

Jonathan starts fucking into you the best he can, tears streaming down his face as he cums, a hoarse scream leaving his throat. Bruce is still fucking him without mercy, and you let Jonathan’s soft cock remain inside you as he whimpers helplessly, his hands gripping your sides.

“That’s it,” you praise him gently, “Let Batman fuck you silly like you deserve.”

Jonathan peers up at you, giving you the dirtiest look he can muster as you cackle, Bruce grunting as he cums inside Jonthan’s ass and on his back.

“Christ,” Bruce sighs, pushing his hair from his face as he winces, pulling out of Jonathan’s quivering asshole.

Jonathan collapses on top of you in a mess of sweat, tears, and cum. You let him catch his breath before sliding out from under him.

“One last thing, sweetie,” you say, your tone sugary, “Sit up on the bed for us.”

Jonathan weakly pushes himself up, flipping onto his back and laying his head on the pillows.

“Touch yourself,” you demand, sitting on your knees at the end of the bed beside Bruce, “I want you to cum until you can’t cum anymore.”

Jonathan opens his mouth to protest, but you motion for him to shush, to which he tiredly gives in. You dip your hand to your slick clit, swiping at it as Jonathan strokes his sensitive cock for you. Bruce watches you and Jonathan touch yourselves, unable to really get himself up again. He instead sits behind you, playing with your tits and rubbing his large hands on your hot, sticky skin. Bruce relishes in watching Jonathan fall apart as he looks away in embarrassment.

“Keep your eyes on me, Crane,” Bruce’s voice booms, making Jonathan jump.

Jonathan gulps, reluctantly keeping eye contact with Bruce as he bucks into his hand, moaning hoarsely as he gets close. He can’t help but think about how he was between the two of you, getting fucked by you and Bruce at the same time. With that, cum shoots from his overused cock onto his stomach, and he cries out in embarrassment when you demand he get off again.

You stay like that, letting Bruce replace your hand as you spread your legs further open to allow him to fuck you with his fingers. You bounce on them, moaning quietly as Jonathan fights to keep his eyes open, his wrist flicking to the best of his ability. The night goes on, and Jonathan eventually taps out, sobbing almost uncontrollably as he runs out of cum. You and Bruce give him time alone before slowly moving him to the shower, where you help him wash off. You and your husband also washed yourselves off, assisting Jonathan out of the shower when you were all done. He’s wrapped in a towel, wincing as he walks back to the bed and curls up under the covers. You follow suit, wrapping your arms around Jonathan and soothing him as he finally falls asleep. Bruce holds you from behind, sighing contently.

“Too bad it takes doing this to humble a villain,” Bruce jokes.

“And the fact I could help was exciting,” you chuckle, “I never get to fight criminals like you do.”

“Maybe you should. You’ve got the mouth for it. Your sass is unmatched,” Bruce buries his nose in your hair.

“Mmm, I think I’m good,” you say, stroking Jonathan’s hair out of his face, “One villain is enough for me, I think.”

You and Bruce quietly watch the evil, despicable fucker sleep soundly.

“Can we keep him?” you ask Bruce, to which he tries not to burst out laughing.

“So you can torture him more? Absolutely.”

“Awesome.”

taglist:

@sstar-ggirl @cillsmurphs @ldklollord @thecherrycocktail @dunklerkeks1611 @hllywdwhre @ecstaticforus @faelvz @ceruleanrainblues @yongi-lee @baizzhu @aporiasposts @hjmalmed @queenshelby @amanda08319 @naty-1001 @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie @cutexlr @flwrs4aust @langdons-slut @shynovelist @trixie23 @cillianbabe @slut4thebroken @mypoisonedvine @burnyouwithacigarettelighter @cranesbathtowel @arieslost @nefhertari @forgottenpeakywriter @llucky-llove @october-atoner @madlittlecriminal @ynisthatyou @starbxnny @darkmoviesquotespizza @newtsniffles

2K notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 11 months

Note

I’m such a simp for jealous!reader and jealous!hotch lmaooooo

What if reader and Hotch were married and had other kiddos so they had to split off for sports activities (jack at soccer and other kiddos at basketball or something). Then like either jack or other kiddos thing gets done early and then either hotch or reader sees their spouse getting hit in repeatedly and becomes jealous and territorial?

Soccer is different than baseball in that there are soccer moms, but baseball dads. The moms that happen to be there take a backseat on the bleachers while the dads huddle around the fence, shouting instructions in on their trembling kids scared to bat.

It means that while Aaron has to deal with women in form-fitting workout gear when he picks Jack up from soccer practice, you have to deal with dads in baseball caps, jeans, and shitty sunglasses.

Your daughter is getting good at baseball, something you're insanely proud of while you cheer along from the bleachers. Aaron would be proud, too, if he were here to see it. But he's on Jack duty today, because you wanted to catch this game. You're hoping the boys make it to the field in time to see her close out the game, but you're nearing the halfway point and there's no sign of them.

"Alright, Sophie!" You cheer, watching her strike an opposing batter out, "Good throw, baby!"

"Ah, she's yours?" A voice comes from your left, and you see a man backing away from the fence to approach you.

"She is," You beam, eyes fixated once more on your daughter, "Which one's yours?"

"Number 15," He points to one of the girls on the bench, She.. tries her best."

You recognize the brunette ponytail on the girl, remembering that she's been having a hard time with batting. When she's able to hit the ball, it's always a good shot, but more often than not she misses.

"I'm sure she'll get better the more she plays!" You promise her dad, and he nods, perching on the end of the bench just below you, "That's what happened with Sophie, before we did at-home practices she was really struggling."

The man's face twists into intrigue, something deeper than that rooted in his eyes as he stares you down, "Oh, you practiced with her? Maybe Angel could use that, too. Are you, uh, taking applications?"

"Oh," You laugh, "No, that's- I'm not a coach or anything. In fact- uh, my husband and son were probably more helpful than I was."

It's like you've cut the power to the man's megawatt smile. The light in his face dims, and his face sours as he stands to walk away, "Oh. Understood."

It's then that you come to the disheartening realization that he was flirting with you. Not only that, but he'd only played nice when he thought he had a shot. Now that he knows you're spoken for, he's hooked back over the fence, shouting at the players.

A hand drapes itself over your collarbones from behind, and you startle before you realize that Aaron is hugging you from the other side of the bleachers.

"Oh!" You gush, letting Jack clamor into your lap to hug you while Aaron walks around to sit beside you, 'You scared me, Aaron."

"Sorry," He grins bashfully, scanning the field and seeing Sophie talking to the coach, "How is she doing?"

"Good," You grin, smoothing out Jack's sweaty post-soccer hair, "She just struck that little brat from the other team out, the one who got mud on her popsicle last time."

"Good girl," Aaron chuckles, watching Jack rush off to play with a few other kids by the trunk of a big tree, "Who were you talking to?"

"Angel's dad," You recall uneasily, "Uh- number fifteen. He was-"

"Flirting with you," Aaron concludes, "I know."

"You saw?" You ask warily, eyes apologetic, "Aaron, I'm sorry, I- I didn't realize until he left, and then you got there, so I just forgot about it, but if you want I can avoid him next time, or-"

"Hey," Aaron sets a hand on your thigh, leaning in to kiss you softly, "It's alright. Don't worry about it, I'm not angry."

"You're not?" Your brows furrow, and he leans in to kiss you again, wiping the expression from your face.

"No," He shakes his head, forehead leaned against yours briefly, "Well- I was, but he totally just saw me kiss you. Twice. So..."

"Oh," You laugh bashfully, leaning over to tuck your face against his shoulder, "Well, that's good. Hopefully he leaves me alone."

"Hopefully," Aaron agrees, squeezing you closer with his arm around your shoulder, "Oh, don't look now, but he's talking to Jia's mom."

"Which one?" You retort, something smug lining your features as you wonder how she'll break the news to him.

"Gloria," He tries not to stare, ducking his gaze back down to your face instead, "Hey, perfect place to tell someone you bat for the other team."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

ooshu · 1 year

Text

still here

summary: it all started with a kiss from your best friend, mark. and most cases, one night stands do not usually end well... right?

note: best friend!mark, sexual implications, cursing/profanities, making out? and purely confused and panicking mark lee.

genre: 99.9% angst and 0.1% fluff | word count: 1.5k

- mark never had a good night's sleep in a while until now.

he opened his eyes and the window to his left side almost told him “good morning”, so bright, so sunny. but he looked at the bookshelves beside a study table, and the bulletin board stacked with utility bills and polaroid films of friends just above a supposed to be a replica of surely an andy warhol pop-art painting.

this was definitely not mark’s room.

he was about to remove the blanket that is sitting on his legs when a figure beside him shuffled a little. the back facing him was bare, messy hair all he could see. but he instantly recognized it, and the room, for so long; because it was you.

slightly panicking, mark carefully removed the warm clothing above his thighs then there he saw that he was only wearing his boxers. right above, just a little, he could see the messy lining of his shirt, and it was definitely worn the other way around.

he rose from the bed carefully, avoiding causing any disturbance. mark made sure his footsteps were inaudible while he was looking for his pants and grey hoodie on the floor. he slowly picked his jeans up, but the belt still made a faint clang noise that he held it so tightly while putting it back on. he also removed his wrinkled, reversed shirt so it would be worn correctly this time before topping it with his grey hoodie.

then mark just… stood there in front of your bed, watching you, trying to recall what has happened last night. then it was all slowly coming back to him.

now, if you happened to wake up at this very moment, then what would he do?

mark bit his lower lip as he was trying to answer the question he is about to face later on. he suddenly felt the need to apologize.

maybe because may have been selfish.

he suddenly kissed you while watching before sunrise. maybe, just maybe, if the romantic and sexual tension were not so intense throughout the film, then he would not have needed to finally act upon what he has been thinking all this time.

but the fact that you gave in... god, he thought, you gave in. no sight of alcohol around, just pure sober thoughts. mark has no idea where he got the push.

but was he remember asking you if you wanted it. mark needed the confirmation, just to make sure you are on the same page as him.

“you want this, right?”

you were catching your breath from the heated kiss when he asked. and yes, you wanted more.

“i would not hold back this time, baby”, you giggled. you liked him calling you baby. “are you sure?”

“mark..." you replied. "baby…”

you were straddling him and started kissing his neck again. mark’s eyes were closed and feeling his crotch against your clothed sex, but he was not so sure that you understand; that if you continue along, the morning may not be the same anymore.

and now, with mark wondering, here we are.

so he removed your arms, now wrapped around his neck while you planted kisses on his cheek, and firmly intertwined his hand with yours.

mark looked you in the eyes so intently, your gaze could not leave his.

“i’m asking again,”, he emphasized. “are you sure you really want to do this?”

and it took you seconds to nod, as you had already caught what he is thinking—the consequences, the adjustments, the confrontation to be served via breakfast.

“mmh”, you hummed.

“words. i need to hear it.”

“yes, mark. i want this.”, you replied. “do you?”

“yes, i do… so much.” he put his palm on the right side of your cheek, just a little graze yet soft, so warm, so lovely. “you have no idea.”

mark has been staring at your still-sleeping figure for too long. too long, really. should he just leave a text that says, “hey... we need to talk about last night.”? or maybe go for an old-fashioned way and write a note saying “i had to go. errands.”, when in fact, it is a sunday morning and he is actually on work leave?

but omitting some words behind these questions, should he leave?—the simple question as it is, but would he be treating you the same as his one-night stands? for him, you deserve more than just ditching and letting avoidance do its own work at this point. you are a friend—the best friend.

you finally shuffled from your former position, still sleeping. from facing the back, your body is now almost facing where mark stands still. his fight or flight response is now asking him several questions. he wanted to run from the consequences he emphasized last night. he thought he could handle them but fuck, no.

mark, noticing that you were still unconscious made him run his fingers through his hair. slightly frustrated and he may have muttered "fuck, fuck, fuck!", a little too loud and-

“just lock the door when you leave, mark.”

mark froze on his feet, mouth agape at your sudden words.

you said it so... nonchalantly. and so you went back to your former position, facing your back against him once again too quickly but still, eyes closed.

you were waiting for him to leave immediately now you may have answered the thing that has been bugging him for minutes now.

and of course, you knew the moment you gave in, there was no turning back. you wish you could say “i love you.”, but you would have rather devour into the kiss, hoping your actions would translate those words instead. so you went along; touching him for the very first time, and feeling all of him for the last time.

but what hurts most is that you know where this is gonna go, that you will wake up to the sounds of shuffling and rummaging the one-night stand’s clothes on the floor, and the footsteps while the guy is putting his shoes on. and what has happened this morning so far is no exception.

maybe mark was too kind just to leave because you are you. and it stings more to know that you are just… a friend.

and it hurts more to see that he was ready to go.

so you just had to instruct him what others usually do. and you just wish you woke up a little later on an empty, messy bed—finding him gone for good.

mark felt a strong pang struck into his chest. he felt like his heart is being held tight, being twisted, being ripped into pieces.

and it hurts him more that you thought he was going to leave, that you thought he was going to be another one-night stand, and that you have already accepted that everything that you both went through is now ruined.

so when mark walked towards the door, your breath suddenly hitched but was inaudible. he clicked the lock, turned the doorknob, and you heard the door opening and closing.

you finally let out a sob that has been desperately wanting to be released as he was collecting his things.

tears damped your pillow until your cries lulled you to sleep.

your room is illuminated by the sunset, thanks to the always bright window. already past afternoon, you managed to escape the dreadful morning.

a little foolish of you, really, to check your phone and hope mark would leave a text. you chuckled at the ridiculous thought, only to find your notification bar empty.

but then you heard faint noises coming from your living room. a little shuffling and steps over there. you stood up and opened your door.

and there he was, actually in the kitchen, checking out what is in your refrigerator. you slowly walked in his direction.

“mark?”

he turned around and said, “hey.”

“what are you doing?”

“trying to cook.”

and he was holding his phone, and there appears to be a cooking tutorial paused on the screen.

“cook what?”

“pesto…? actually, dang, you don’t have enough ingredients so i’m just gonna do a quick run at 7/11 so—”

“mark?”, you asked, now more confused than ever, “you never left.”

for mark, this was never a mistake. he had wanted and waited for this for so long. this—overcoming the boundaries and just feeling you entirely–the making out, the fucking, the embracing, the tangled bodies, the intertwined hands, the how are yous, the sharing of joys and growing pains, everything and more; and most importantly, the i love yous.

he finally did not walk out the door for once, now that he has had you in his arms last night. no fumbling with the bags this time.

enough of the jealousy and the constant checking of his phone, waiting for a text after you went out on a date, thinking he is going to lose you to another guy because mark could never say how much you mean to him. no more subtle touching, like how he likes it when he wraps his arms around your shoulders. sometimes, he would just leave it there after saying he needs to protect you while crossing the street. and more, so much more.

mark needs more—never from but of–mark needs more of you. because good god, for once, he knows what love is—and love is the entirety of you.

so mark just shrugged with a sheepish grin plastered on his face.

“still here, baby.”

and you loved that cute, stupid smile every single time.

what a sight.

2K notes · View notes

writingficsanddaydreams · 8 months

Text

Worried Thoughts

Mihawk x gn!reader

Summary: he thinks you’re afraid of him, but really you feel more comfortable here than anywhere else. If only you could figure out how to explain that.

Content: fluffy cozy piece. Just a hint of romance. Reader is autistic.

Warnings: reader is somewhat insecure about their autistic traits.

A/N: Couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so I’m sharing with all of you. It’s been a long time since I wrote any fanfic so I might do more, I might not, we’ll see. Story is based on live action Mihawk with some inspiration from the little bit I know about the anime. Enjoy!

—————

He’s frustrated with you.

He doesn’t let it show. Mihawk is too controlled for that, too stoic. Besides, you’ve come to learn the look of casual disdain he wears is for everyone, not just you.

But he’s still frustrated with you.

You can see it in the little things. The slight furrow of his brow. The way he watches you over his book. The long, drawn out sips of wine.

It’s the things you’ve learned to look for after a lifetime of having to watch and analyze and try so hard to fit in. A lifetime of trying to be normal.

Around Mihawk though? You don’t feel that need so much.

It’s why you let your eyes drift away from his intense, piercing gaze. It’s why, though you’re still afraid to let yourself stim too much or let too much excitement shine through when a special interest topic comes up, you do let yourself chew on your lip. And sometimes, when you catch yourself rocking because the silence is just a little too much, you don’t make yourself stop.

But still, he doesn’t quite understand it. He thinks you’re afraid of him.

You should be. Honestly you’re not sure why you aren’t. He’s the worlds greatest swordsman. He’s probably the most powerful person in all the seas. He wears that power like a cloak, holds himself in a way that warns people to step away. Step back.

You saw it in the village last week, when he had you sail with him to a nearby island so you could help pick up supplies. Folk recognized him and feared him.

To be honest, you thought he would leave you behind there. After all, he has no reason to keep sheltering you. It’s been a month since you washed up on the beach of his own gloomy island, a month since you barely evaded the monsters that live there and found your way to his door.

He let you stay, and you figured it was because of how pathetic you looked at the moment. A shipwrecked survivor on the brink of death, looking more like a drowned rat than a human.

It’s not that you’re actually pathetic. You’re not weak. Or at least not too much so. Honestly, you can hold your own against most folk back home, and you know how to sail a small ship just fine. Or at least, you thought you did.

That storm wounded your pride and has you questioning your seafaring skills.

The point is, you can take care of yourself overall. Though, you quickly learned after you first set sail a few years back that being the best in your village means nothing when so many folk out there are as powerful as gods. Competent or not, you’re nothing compared to the great warlord.

So why did he let you stay? Why was it, when you were getting ready to turn and walk away after setting foot on the village island, he handed you a small crate of supplies and said to not fall behind? Why was it he let you get back on his ship and sail all the way back here with him?

You haven’t asked him yet, because you’re a little afraid that maybe he’ll change his mind. You’ve come to like your life on this isolated island.

But you’re getting away from yourself again. Letting your thoughts drift. It’s been a week since that village visit and now you still sit within Mihawk’s vast and rather chilly castle, hyperaware of his piercing gaze digging into your head.

“You don’t need to be so afraid of me.”

His voice makes you jump, and you realize that you’ve been rocking where you sit as you stare at the book in your lap.

“I’m not,” you manage. “I…”

Your eyes latch onto the book. You’ve been reading it for a couple of days, but you’re having trouble focusing today. Whenever you look at the words, it makes you think about how yesterday you launched into a long analysis of the adventure genre and how it really is such a shame that people don’t appreciate this book as much, since even though it was one of the first of its type there’s been so many books that have built on it since that now it seems almost predictable.

Mihawk didn’t seem bothered at the time, but now you look back at it and you’re sure he must’ve been annoyed, or at the very least bored. You’re still kicking yourself for not taking the time to check his expression when you went on that endless monologue.

“You act afraid.”

You take a quick peek out the corner of your eye, watching as he casually sips from his wine glass. Firelight flickers across his face, lighting up those vivid eyes and casting a golden hue across his dark hair. He’s not looking at you anymore, but you know that he’s still aware of everything you do.

When you find your attention catching on his chiseled chest, you quickly force your gaze away.

“You are a warlord,” you say, trying to be teasing.

“An astute observation.”

“I’m not afraid of you though.” You close your book and with it close your eyes, trying to find the right words. Trying to get them all untangled. “I… I just don’t like eye contact. With anyone.”

“I see. That is reasonable.”

It’s not the response you expected. You’re used to people judging you when they learn how are you are. You’re used to people underestimating you and assuming the worst.

You glance back up at Mihawk, then quickly away to the fireplace instead. “I’m not very good with people,” you continue, “It’s not that I don’t like them, but I don’t always understand the rules of society and stuff. And I don’t always do things the way other folk do.”

When you peek back, he’s lifted a single eyebrow. You blush. Surely he’s already noticed that. Surely you’re being silly as you explain the obvious.

“The rules of society do tend to be rather boring.”

The way he says it, so straightforward as if it makes all the sense in the world… you feel relieved giggle bubble out of you.

“I suppose you really aren’t afraid of me then,” he says, just the slightest twitch forming a smile at the corners of his lips. He tilts his head slightly, then adds. “I was thinking about your theory yesterday. It was… Intriguing.”

Something flutters in your chest. A feeling that you never really thought you’d have for somebody so dangerous. Joy. Excitement. Perhaps even some infatuation, if you’re being honest with yourself.

His castle might be vast and chilly, but it’s also comfortable. And you’ve come to truly enjoy these times where you sit together in front of the fireplace, simply existing near each other. You’ve come to enjoy just being around him.

“Would… would you like to talk about it more?” You can’t help the hope that creeps into your tone.

“That would be pleasant.”

And so, you finally let that wall down just a little further. You let yourself start talking without holding back, let yourself feel comfortable.

When he rises from his chair and walks to stand closer to your own, his hand just barely brushing your shoulder, you let yourself feel a little bit at home.

#Mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #one piece mihawk #Help im so in love with this character #autistic!reader #proofreading I don’t know you

779 notes · View notes

buckysbabygorl · 1 year

Text

Punching Bag (Bucky Angst)

Summary: As much as Bucky can't stand Y/N, he's tired of her taking all the blows on the field. They have to come up with a plan.

Word Count: N/A

“Get your hands off me.”

She shoved him away, as best she could given her state.

“I can do it myself.”

She took the med kit from his hands, in her drunken stupor she stumbled to the dining table, fumbling with the latches on the case.

Bucky was tired. All he wanted to do was sleep after a long—god awful---day and put the mission behind him.

He dropped his mission bag at the doorway.

“All you’re going to do is make it worse. I don’t need you waking up tomorrow complaining about your drunken hack job.”

She glared at him, pulling out supplies.

“Sober or not, I can stitch myself up fine. Just because I’m not an army vet doesn’t mean I don’t know basic field medics.”

She mumbled something more under her breath; probably dick or asshole, some of her common artillery when insulting him.

He didn’t need this. He really didn’t need this right now. Today had been hard, and for Bucky that was saying something. Whether it was being back in Russia, during its coldest and iciest period of the season; or being stuck with the person he loathed the most, he wasn’t sure what had triggered him.

But he was on edge and exhausted, and he wanted this night to end.

Then she had to go and get stabbed of all things, and now this dark hour was dragging on and on and on...

It was then Bucky realized that this sad excuse of a safe house would not give him enough space from her. It was a bachelor style apartment, something small enough that would never catch the eye of enemies, tucked away in an complex that was filled with much more shady individuals that them. There was a kitchenette, a dining table with two chairs, and a couch that pulled out. There was also a rickety old rocking chair, which looked far from comfortable.

This night wouldn't get any shorter.

“Ow.”

She stabbed her self softly with the needle, swaying slightly as she tried to stablize herself.

“Jesus Christ," Bucky said, "did you even wash your hands?”

“Fuck you.” She retorted.

His jaw tensed as he stopped himself from raising his hands, he wanted to tear his hair out strand by strand.

Why was she always so fucking argumentative?

“Would you stop saying that?”

He strode across the room, kneeling in front of her chair and grabbed her arm.

She attempted to pull away from him, which was stupid to do with a needle in hand.

“Let go.” She demanded.

She pulled back, hard, and Bucky gripped her forearm.

“Will you just—enough.” His voice stern and commanding.

She halted, slightly hazey and swaying. But she stopped.

Bucky let out a frustrated sigh.

“For once, can you just shut up and listen? For five seconds, can you do that?”

She blinked slowly at him, pursing her lips.

He recognized that look in her eye; it was always followed by a sly grin, a tilt of her head that said “what are you gonna do about it, Sergeant?”

This time, she slumped back into her chair. She relaxed her arm and used the other to shove the kit towards him.

“Fine. Do your worst. I don’t give a shit if you leave a scar.”

He waited a moment, to see if she’d say something more or change her mind, maybe smack his hand away one more time.

But she didn’t.

So Bucky picked up the needle and went to work.

She didn’t look at him while he stitched her up, remaining in her dead stare as she looked straight at the wall.

She winced a few times but said nothing.

After a few minutes, the quiet made Bucky’s skin itch.

“Why did you jump at her, anyways? I had it covered.”

Y/N closed her eyes, inhaling through gritted teeth.

Responding wasn’t worth the effort, so she shrugged.

“Really? You’re not going to say anything?” He asked.

She groaned. “Does it matter? Not like I can do anything about it now.”

He shook his head, continuing as if he hadn’t heard her. “--And downing a bottle of tequila won’t make you feel better.”

She bit the palm of her hand as he worked his way along her side.

Her breaths stuttered as she inhaled.

“Hurts less.” She mumbled.

He paused a moment.

He remembered what that felt like. How much these kind of things could hurt you. He could imagine the pain she was going through, he could see it in her face. But he tried to ignore it. He was still mad at her.

“I don’t get you. You do this every time, you’re not invincible you know—”

She slammed her hand on the table.

“I know that! Jesus, you tell me every time—AH!”

She pulled away from him, hurting herself as he had tightened a stitch.

He looked up as his hands steadied her, and his voice softened.

“Y/N, sit still...”

Her head was turned away from him, but he could still see the corner of her eye and the downturn of her lip.

He hadn’t realized she’d been crying.

He tilted his head down, biting on the inside of his cheek. Best to just get this over with.

“Just… sit still. I’m almost done.”

They fell into silence again. The winter snow was building up on the safe house windows, the wind pounding against the panes.

He tried to shut it out. But it was either listen to the howling storm or rehash the scenario in his brain.

Her voice came over his ear piece, she told him to watch his six; that agents were entering through the south wing of the building. He ignored her, he had it covered.

She must’ve taken his silence the wrong way; she figured he was in danger. She was like that, she’d assume the worst and abandon her post to cover. Fuck, why did she have to do that…

“Did you get a hold of Sam?”

Surprised by her question, Bucky looked up from his hands. She still wouldn’t turn to face him.

“Called him while I was walking back. Said he can get a jet in a 4 am. With the storm it’s hard to get here—”

She winced again. He groaned.

“Stop moving.”

She awed at the ceiling and clenched her hand into a fist.

“My god, would it kill you to have some sympathy?”

He tied off the suture and snipped the thread.

“I don’t have sympathy for idiocy.”

She scoffed, “Fuck you.”

Which she had said for the umpteenth time today.

He decided to ignore it. But he was still fuming, still angry at her… why, why would she do that?

He should’ve watched his six, he knew he should’ve.

They came up behind him, 4 out of the 6 agents had decided to cover his wing.

He was holding his own, but the one was smart. Patient. Waiting while the others hammered Bucky with brute force to deliver a fatal blow. She had been aiming for his right side, probably trying to stab between his right ribs or his into his spine…

“You know, normal people say thank you.” He nodded to her left side, where 10 stitches sat neatly in line.

“I could say the same thing to you.” Her words were icy, she nearly spat them at him.

Bucky scoffed. “Why should I thank you? I had it covered, you jumped in and now I have to patch your drunk-ass up—”

“I did it because it’s instinct. I saw my partner outnumbered and I saved your ass. Sorry it’s an inconvenience to you because I’m not a goddamn super soldier.”

The slam of his hand on the table made her jump, and her eyes went wide at the thought that he might actually make her shut up for once.

"You can't throw yourself in a fight where you'll get more hurt than I will."

His eyes faltered when he looked at her, "We... we talked about this Y/N--"

Silence fell between them again.

She fumbled with the bottle cap on the table, and Bucky stood still at her side.

He didn't know what more to say, and she didn't know how to respond.

Because he was right, they had talked about this before many times.

There were never tender moments between the two, but the closest they'd ever gotten to something like that was usually Y/N's recovery. They were paired together more often than not; aside from them loathing one another, they were extremely compatible.

But each time they teamed up, something like this happened.

Y/N would get stabbed, she'd get shot, she'd break a bone or two, she'd pick a fight that was out of her depths.

He'd get mad and so would she, then a day or two would pass and he'd watch her struggle with something. Whether it was taking the stairs, or doing her physio, or getting back into training...

Somehow they'd end up alone and they fell back into this same conversation.

You can't always put yourself at risk for me, I know you're skilled but there's situations where you need to be more careful.

She'd sit with it, and usually come back with the same response.

I know you're capable of taking more than most people, but it doesn't mean you get to be a punching bag. If my partner is in trouble, I'm going to step in.

There was never a solution made, because he was the immovable object and she was the unstoppable force.

In short, they were both too stubborn and too proud.

Normally, she wouldn't bring it up. But feeling brave, or drunk enough to be brave, she did.

"We're going around in circles, Barnes."

She didn't look up from the table, but he continued to stare.

"We can't fight about this every single time we go on a mission. We've requested to be separated, and that's not happening. So tell me what the fuck you want me to do, because I'm not just gonna take a seat every time it gets ugly."

He sighed, "What I'd like you to do is not be an idiot out there--"

"Hm," She took another drink, "And I'd like you to stop being an asshole."

His jaw clenched again. Every time with this girl...

"Do you not see where I'm coming from?" He gestured to her ribs, "Look at you, Y/N. How many scars is that now? From our missions alone?"

She shook her head, fiddling with the cap.

"I don't know Barnes, that's not the point."

She did know, it was nine now.

"The point is I'm not going to change my mind and neither are you. So figure it out with me instead of fighting me every chance you get. Pick a different fucking solution."

It seemed Bucky couldn't stop sighing, he wanted to walk away from this night and be done with it. But he knew they'd be back in this position a month from now, and a month after that, and so on.

So, begrudgingly, Bucky sat down at the table.

"Fine. If you won't stop being reckless--"

"--And you won't stop being a dick--"

He pointed at her, "Okay first. Stop doing that. I get you're frustrated but you swear at me a lot. I hate it. It feels like you try to pick a fight."

She went to speak, but all she could think of were insults involving curse words. He'd proven his point.

Her lip curled in a scowl, "Fine."

He nodded. "Okay."

She shifted to sit with her arms crossed on the table, eyes flicking up to him.

"Stop telling me I'm an idiot. And stop saying I'm reckless. You think it's reckless 'cause I'm not Steve or Thor, or whoever else was enhnaced on the team... just because I'm not like you guys doesn't mean I'm being stupid when I'm out there."

God, he wanted to fight her on that.

Different capabilities meant different actions in certain situations, at least in his eyes.

But he kept it to himself, at least they were starting to work on something.

"Okay..." He drew out the word, subtly saying he wasn't okay with it, but Y/N didn't care.

He could think what he wanted, but he didn't get to throw it in her face every time he wanted.

"I can't control what you do on the field." Bucky started, "You make your own calls and you... you know what you're doing out there."

Y/N smirked at the look of pain on Bucky's face, she know he hated to admit it. But she was damn good at her job.

"--but if there's a situation that I think you need to stay out of, respect me when I ask."

"What if I think I can handle it?" She questioned.

He lifted his hand off the table slightly, halting her to let him finish.

"If I need you, I'll tell you."

She rolled her eyes, "So I'm supposed to wait until my coach puts me in?"

His fists balled in frustration. "No, I'm saying be there but..."

He leaned back in his chair, looking up to the ceiling.

"I don't know, maybe we have a call sign when we both need each other."

He said that to appease her, he didn't think there would ever be a time he'd need her, but maybe she would need him. And at least it would keep her from jumping in and getting sliced to bits.

She snorted, "What, like a safe word?"

He huffed slightly, "I guess so, yeah."

That seemed to be enough conversation for her, as she stumbled out of her chair and clambered over to the musty pull out couch in the corner. She was still nursing that damn bottle in the crook of her arm.

Bucky sat, somewhat surprised that that was the end of it.

"I'm tired." She mumbled as she slipped onto the mattress, kicking her go-bag onto the ground.

I guess I'll take the floor, Bucky thought.

He raised his hands in an exaggerated shrug, his words laced with contempt. "Any thoughts on the safe word?"

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, already feeling the early effects of a hang over.

"Yeah," she muttered, "Punching bag."

Bucky waited for more from her, but after a few moments of silence, her snoring began and he accepted that as the end of their conversation.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

He accepted his place in the awful rocking chair, but not before picking the bottle of tequila out from beneath her.

He took one final look at his patch up of her ribs, before settling into his seat, eagerly waiting for Sam's arrival.

They didn't speak more of their truce after that night, but there had been an unspoken agreement on both ends to keep their promise.

They'd be less hostile towards one another; and they'd work their roles independently during missions unless someone asked for help.

And, oddly enough, their "safe word" popped up more and more with each mission. It was easier than saying the words "I need your help", because both were so stuck in their pride to ever admit that. But "punching bag" worked just fine.

In fact, they had gotten so comfortable using it during their duo missions, that it became an oddity to the rest of the Avengers in team missions.

"Barnes, what's your location?"

"Intersection of Francis Street and Main."

"I'm west of Francis by one block. Alice Street. Punching bag."

Within less than a minute, he was there.

It was rare for Bucky to use it, but every so often he had.

One time, it had been used because Bucky's metal arm had adhered to the FOD magnetic sweepers of their combatant's tank.

Y/N had laughed when she arrived, but never brought it up afterwards.

That was another thing, an interesting development so to speak. In its month's of usage, "Punching bag" somehow became "come, no questions asked."

Sam, Joaquin and Sharon had all taken notice of this new addition to their lingo; but decided not to press it. Ever since it had been implemented, the two were actually getting along. Sam would argue they were somewhat friendly with one another.

It was a peaceful three months since their Russia mission, and the team was going to ride it out as long as they could.

Bucky felt numb. Which was bad, because usually that led to an anger spiral or a drawn out dissociation episode. Neither were good options for him.

It was a bad day. A really fucking bad day.

He had called his therapist, but at the fourth call with no answer, he had assumed she was asleep.

Of course she was, it was 2 in the morning.

Bucky tried to remember what she had taught him; their so-called "game plan" when things went south.

He didn't want to listen to music, he had tried going for a walk, he had tried using that dumb journal she recommened he'd buy but he couldn't write anything down.

Call someone, she had said, your line of work has a select few that understand what you're going through. And those select few happen to be your friends, you can lean on them . That's what they're there for.

He had hovered over Sam's contact for—about—15 minutes. But he didn't want to.

Some nagging feeling in the forefront of his mind pulled him back, to lean towards someone else.

He scrolled down, clicked the contact, and sent a quick message.

Punching bag.

And then he waited.

Bucky had left his location on in their group comms chat, and Y/N was surprised to see that he was in his own apartment.

Her mind jumped to an intruder holding Bucky hostage in his own home; or him being kidnapped, leaving his phone behind and it was the last message he had been able to send before being taken away.

She got paranoid like that. She was working it out in therapy, or whatever.

Bucky rarely used their safe word, which she resented him for, but when he did she knew it was serious.

She was there in 10 minutes.

Bucky heard shuffling outside his door; as stealthy as she was, he had the fortune of super-soldier hearing.

Then she gave their call sign, an additional one that was in early development. One knock, a pause, then four knocks.

You're, one syllable, an id-i-ot, four syllables

He'd respond back with two hard knocks to signal it was clear; two syllables for "fuck you".

Apparently their old habits died hard.

He had left the door unlocked, and she entered slowly.

With a quick scan of the room, she deemed the coast was clear. Even more surprising considering the text she had received less than 15 minutes ago.

She looked at him with question, "Our safe word is usually for emergencies, y'know."

He nodded, but said nothing.

She pursed her lips, more confused but coming in regardless.

"...Alright."

She slipped off her coat and kicked off her boots. She found it odd to see him on the floor, then noticing the pillow and blankets laid out on the hardwood, she realized that's how Bucky slept.

Late at night, she put two and two together; he'd tried to sleep and couldn't.

She folded her coat and sat down across from him.

She stayed silent, patiently waiting for him.

He continued to say nothing.

She waited for a few minutes longer, prompting him to give some sort of explanation for his text.

But again, nothing.

She clapped her hands once on her knees, and stood up. Bucky panicked, fearing she would leave---

"You got back at 10, right?" She asked.

Bucky was taken aback by her knowledge of his returning home, but nodded after his pause.

She hummed, "Okay. Have you eaten?"

"Uh--" Bucky thought for a moment, realizing he hadn't. "--No."

She nodded. It was a start.

"Okay. Then uh---I'm gonna get you some food."

After digging through the cabinets whilst Bucky sat on the floor, she mustered her supplies; butter, cheese, and bread.

Grilled cheese wasn't the fanciest of meals but considering the situation, it would have to do. Besides, she didn't know how to cook anything else.

5 minutes later, a plate plopped down in front of him, and she sat cross-legged as she started on her sandwich.

He watched her for a moment, before she looked up at him with a mouthful.

"Don't let good eatings go to waste Barnes," she wiped crumbs from her lips, "I put my blood, sweat and tears into this meal."

Shockingly, even to himself, Bucky laughed. And then he ate.

"I would've added onion," She said, "But you don't seem to have... many ingredients in your fridge, Buck."

He was surprised at her wanting to use onion, and even more surprised at her usage of his first name. But he let the latter slide.

"Onion?" He questioned.

She sent an odd look back at him, "What? You've never had onion in your grilled cheese?"

When he shook his head no, she went into a ramble.

"My god, you're missing out. I'll tell you this; one time, my Pops went into this diner, you see--"

Bucky felt himself smile as she went on, telling a story of her grandpa recommending the restaurant make it a special of the day, "grilled cheese with onion", and how it had been such a hit with the locals, that they gave her grandpa a free grilled cheese every day from that day on. Which was how she knew how to make it.

She told more stories about her grandpa, then about her family, and Bucky realized he'd never heard more about her in one sitting. In fact, he realized he had known nothing about her personal life the entire time they had been working alongside eachother.

He sat happily listening, grilled cheese in hand, and even took her up on seconds as she continued to talk.

Y/N figured that, sometimes, that's what someone needs. To fill the silence, to feel the normal, especially on days that were less than good.

And eventually, the other person would start talking too.

People need distraction. Sometimes they need to talk, they need advice, or they need help and action. But when someone needs you, and they can't find the words, talking of nothingness can be the best thing.

Y/N could be good at that, something Bucky never knew about her. And, something Bucky never knew he liked.

A silence fell over them, but not like before. Not the tense words-unsaid sort. But comfortable. She washed dishes and he sat on the floor.

She flicked her hands at the sink before drying them, Bucky wondered if she did that all the time.

"So," She said, "do you want to talk about it?"

The question might have been jarring to others, but to him it wasn't. Bucky just shrugged.

"I don't think so."

He didn't need to, he thought. This was enough.

She nodded. "Okay. Do you want me to go?"

He was shaking his head before he knew it, and she smirked.

Not the spiteful one she used to adorn with him, but more of a cheeky one. One a friend might give to another.

"Alright. Do you want me to stay?"

He picked at his ratty blanket he had tucked beside him.

"Kinda." He thought before adding, "If you don't mind."

She checked her watch, "I've got nowhere to be."

She said something about a deck of cards, and went to search his house, which for some reason he didn't mind.

She found a deck, Bucky hadn't known he owned one.

"So, I'm gonna teach you how to play King's Corners, kick your ass at King's corners, and then we're gonna talk about this bed situation which is unacceptable..." she trailed off in her teasing, and Bucky found himself laughing more.

She did teach him how to play, and he ended up kicking her ass, which she claimed was beginner’s luck.

She stayed all night.

More nights like that began to happen, sometimes Bucky spoke and sometimes he didn't.

Sometimes they fought, most times they didn't.

The fights happened less and less. The all-nighters happened more and more.

And Bucky noticed more things he liked. More than her grilled cheese, more than her comfortable ramblings, and soon he found there were more things he liked than not.

She trusted Bucky to hold his own on the field, and he tried not to be as protective of her, letting her choose her own actions. They found out that was what he was afterall, and she realized she had been too.

She had been staying longer and longer. The next thing they knew, she wasn't leaving at all.

@dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable

@dumb-ass-3

@cuddlycalcifer @babyblue-07 @babybluereads @lonewolf471 @agni-l @niiight-dreamerrrr @julipmoon @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @annestine @shower-me-with-roses @yougottalovefandoms @rebekahdawkins @gentlybarnes @emmabarnes

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky headcanon #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barns imagine

3K notes · View notes

everlastingdreams · 1 year

Text

Isaac Lahey x Reader : Theft Of The Heart

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: You are new at the Beacon Hills High school and catch the attention of a certain lacrosse player. Being too shy to interact properly leads to awkward situations.

Notes: This was in my WIPs for so long omg.

Word count of this fic: 2.6K words. One-shot.

Warnings: None. It’s funny (I hope) fluff.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was the first day at a new school after having moved to Beacon Hills with your family two weeks ago.

After one week, you were already hired at a small local grocery store.

Today was the start of a new direction in life and it was nerve wracking.

Making friends at a new school was never easy, but at Beacon Hill’s High you were rather quickly approached by Lydia who was now sitting next to you on the tribunes watching the lacrosse game.

You didn’t know who to cheer for, only knew to cheer for the ones wearing Beacon Hills uniforms.

Lydia did try to point at some players and name them, saying they were friends of her.

But they ran across the field constantly, so you barely had a chance to really spot them. You had to strain your eyes to be able to follow the game.

She on the other hand seemed to focus all her attention on player twenty-four.

You just tried to keep your eyes on who had the ball in their possession.

Player fourteen was running towards the opponent’s goal.

“Lydia, I think that one is going to score.” You nudged her arm and she snapped her attention to the player running at the goal.

Isaac had the ball and was running towards the goal of the opponents, his team mates where giving him cover. He was sure of victory, that was until he saw a new face sitting on the tribunes watching the game.

A pretty face…

It was too late to avoid the collision with a player from the other team and he ended up taking a fall.

The ball and victory was lost.

Scott hurried over to his fallen friend.

“What are you doing?! Did you fall asleep or something?” Scott helped him up from the ground.

Isaac mumbled the excuse “I tripped.”

“You alright?” Scott scanned him for injuries.

“Yeah…” Isaac nodded, attention continuously darting to the tribunes.

Scott snapped his fingers in front of his face “Hey, heads up. Keep your mind on the game.”

Isaac pulled his eyes away from the tribunes and tried to focus on what his friend was telling him “Got it.”

Scott patted him on the shoulder “Alright, cover me.”

∘°∘♡∘°∘

At lunch, Scott noticed the way his friend’s attention kept being pulled to you sitting at a table with some of the other new students.

He nudged his elbow with his own, Isaac looked a little startled at Scott.

“What?” Isaac asked him a little agitated that he was pulled out of his daydreaming.

Scott just gave him a knowing look, trying his hardest not to laugh even just a little at Isaac’s reaction.

“She’s new.” Scott opened the door to the conversation.

Isaac cleared his throat, suddenly trying very hard not to look in your direction again “Who’s new?”

Scott snorted, shaking his head as he deadpanned “The girl that cost us a point in the game.”

Isaac frowned at him before he realized what Scott was really trying to say “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. You’ve been staring at her since the second you saw her sitting in the tribunes with Lydia. Don’t even try to deny it.” Scott chuckled at his friend’s desperate attempt to hide the instant interest Isaac had for you.

“I’m not staring at her.” He bit the words at Scott and looked around him to see if no one was listening in on their conversation “..I thought I recognized her from somewhere. That’s all.”

“Yeah. You recognized her from when you let the other team knock you to the ground because you were too focused on her instead of the game.” Scott could tell with ease that Isaac was trying to bullshit his way out of this.

Isaac finally snapped “Okay, fine! Maybe I was looking at her, so what?”

“Go talk to her.” Scott said as if it was that simple.

Isaac lowered his voice “What?! No way.”

Now that Scott had him confessing, he wasn’t going to let it go so quickly “Why not?”

Isaac spoke fast, anxiety laced in his voice “Because I don’t know her. I don’t even know her name, what would I even say?”

“Ask for her name.” Scott said casually.

Isaac scoffed and turned away from him “You’re no help.”

“Chicken.” Scott muttered quietly, knowing damn well that Isaac could still pick up on it.

Isaac was about to reply when he saw you stand up from your seat at the table and walk in their direction. He felt himself freeze up completely, Scott’s eyes darted between you and Isaac as you walked past their table while chatting with one of the other new girls.

It was then that Scott failed to hold his quiet laughter at seeing Isaac look at you like a deer in headlights.

His poor friend seemed so rattled by your presence at the school that it made Isaac fall completely silent the closer you got to him.

A little help would be needed.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

The days flew by, it was weekend before you knew it.

The place you worked at in the weekends was a small but busy shop. The work that had to be done everyday surpassed the staff that was available. In other words, you spend your time constantly hurrying from one chore to the other.

You were stocking the shelves while keeping an eye on the checkout area.

You often were so concentrated that you kind of zoned out sometimes, it was why you had failed to see him approach you.

“Hi…” His voice pulled you out of your concentration.

You turned and your eyes met with a pair of blue ones. You fumbled with the box containing a piece of soap as you were faced with someone you had seen around school before but had never talked to.

You knew he was handsome, but having him stand so close to you made you realize how truly good looking he actually was.

The tall, curly haired, blue eyed boy. The sight of him was enough for you to develop a small crush.

“Hi…” You greeted him after composing yourself, he was still a customer “Can I help you?”

He nodded, appearing a little nervous “Uh yeah, I’m looking for the…the uh…”

Another guy approached, one who’s name you thought was Scott, if you had heard Lydia right…

Scott looked at his struggling friend deciding to end this struggle “He’s looking for the feminine hygiene section.”

“Oh.” You believed it was why he had looked so nervous “Please, follow me. I’ll show you where it is.”

They both walked at a distance behind you and you were unaware of how Scott smacked a hand against Isaac’s shoulder and gestured in your direction.

Isaac quickly looked in your direction hoping you hadn’t noticed it before he glared at his friend.

“Here it is.” You stopped in front of the shelves filled with the many products “Anything else I can help you with?”

You were already starting to turn away, ready to go back to the work you were doing.

Scott saw Isaac struggle to find a good excuse to make you stay around them a little longer.

“Uhm… I uh…” He stammered again.

You waited patiently for him to form a sentence.

Scott sighed before speaking up again “Could you help us find the tampons?”

Isaac’s eyes snapped to Scott, why couldn’t he ask you to help him find anything else in this store?

He never should have mentioned to Scott that he thought you were pretty. But then again, Scott had probably noticed days ago when he caught him staring at you on the field. It was why he had collided with a player from the opposite team.

“It’s for a friend.” Isaac cleared his throat, not daring to look you in the eye.

“Sweet of you to come and buy it for them.” You send him a smile.

At that his eyes found yours, even though he felt very embarrassed, seeing your smile made him less self-conscious about all of this.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

“The women’s hygiene section?!?” Isaac snapped at Scott the second he walked out the store.

Scott snorted at his reaction “What? Girls like a guy who is comfortable buying that sort of stuff.”

“Thanks a lot.” Isaac huffed.

Scott shrugged his shoulders, a quiet laugh escaped “Not my fault you failed to think of a better excuse to talk to her. Besides, she said it was sweet.”

It got on Isaac’s already delicate nerves “Yeah, well, now she’ll think this ‘friend’ is someone I’m dating. Ever think of that?”

Scott waved it away “You know what? Now that you know where she works, you can talk to her yourself. Just think of some question about a product and go ask her for help.”

He wasn’t sure of the plan “She’ll think I’m stalking her.”

Scott saw right through all the excuses of his shy friend “Isaac… it’s a shop. People go in there and ask questions every day. You’re not the only one, okay?”

∘°∘♡∘°∘

On Sunday, you were sticking security stickers on the more expensive items in the store. Everything over nine dollars needed one to prevent it from being stolen.

The door of the store opened and in walked the handsome boy you had barely been able to talk to yesterday. Maybe you could at least find out his name today.

With one of the make-up mirrors up for sale, you quickly inspected your appearance before placing it back.

You were in the corner where the make-up was and saw him walk in your direction, stop and then walk the other way.

Oh…

Was he too shy? Or just not interested?

With the roll of security stickers in your hand, a plan formed.

You took one sticker off the roll and waited until he was looking at something. When he was looking at cereals, you walked past him and stuck the sticker to the elbow of his sleeve without stopping.

A customer was waiting at the register and it was the perfect excuse to have walked past him.

You rang up their items and helped the old lady put them in her bag, then handed it to her “Here you go, thank you and have a nice day.”

The lady gave a broad smile and left with her groceries.

Before you could leave the register, the handsome boy walked up and placed a single box of cereals on the counter.

“Good morning.” You made an effort to give him your sweetest smile.

He blinked a few times before finding his voice “Uh…good morning.”

That shy smile of his was adorable…

You accidentally knocked over the box and he reached for it at the same time as you.

His hand landed on yours, you froze, he froze…

With a nervous laugh, you broke the awkward tension and he quickly withdrew his hand.

“Sorry, I’m clumsy.” You apologized and rang up the box of cereals.

“It’s fine. So, am I.” He said.

You had grown quite nervous and felt yourself withdraw in your shell of shyness “That will be three dollars, please.”

He pulled some coins from his pockets and put them on the counter for you to count.

After counting them, you picked the change up and offered it to him “Your change.”

“Ah, nah. Uhm, you can keep it.” He was nearly caught staring a you.

“You sure?” You asked.

He gave a nod “Yeah.”

You smiled at him, appreciating the kind gesture “Thanks. I hope you have a good day.”

Poor Isaac was trying to think of something to say and when that didn’t work, he replied “Thanks. You too.”

There you stood, watching him head for the door, the boy who’s name you still didn’t know…

And then, the alarm of the store went off.

Oh, gosh…

You had almost forgotten about the security sticker and hurried over to him.

He looked ridiculously nervous and you felt a pang of guilt.

Even when he was sure he had not stolen a thing, Isaac began to search his pockets “Ah, crap…”

Oh, no…

“Oh! Wait… hold on for a sec…” You quickly pulled the tag from his sleeve, holding it up for him to see.

Realization dawned on him “That’s what set the alarm off? I don’t know how it got on me…”

You smiled like a sinner in church “Oh…it happens all the time here.”

He quirked a brow at you “Oh. Weird.”

“Anyway… sorry for bothering you. I hope I’ll see you in the store again and that this didn’t scare you off.” You stammered nervously.

He nodded quickly, a shy smile growing on his face “Yeah. Don’t worry, you’ll see me again.”

You nodded nervously, feeling like a fool for doing all this.

“I’m Isaac.” He suddenly blurted out and held out his hand.

You blinked twice before you took his hand in yours and shook it “Y/n.”

He looked almost flustered now “Nice to meet you. I wanted to get a chance to talk to you but I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”

Did he think that you believed he would stick a security sticker on himself to get your attention? This was getting more and more ridiculous.

“I uh…” You stammered.

“Sorry if this is weird or something, I just-” He sounded so timid and sweet.

“I stuck the sticker on you.” You finally confessed.

Isaac frowned for a second “Why would you-… oh.”

A smirk spread across his face “So instead of trying a pick up line, you try to frame me for theft?”

“No! No, of course not I was just shy and stupid and -” You covered your face with your hands in shame.

He chuckled at your reaction “Don’t worry. It worked.”

What?

WHAT?!?

You couldn’t believe your shenanigans had actually worked on him.

The relief you felt was instant and you hoped to break the ice completely “But if you want a cheesy pick up line…we are supposed to tag everything above nine dollars. So I guess that means you’re a ten.”

His mouth was a little agape now and he chuckled “That uh… that’s not bad.”

You hummed in agreement.

Isaac scrambled all his courage together “Now that we’re on the topic of numbers… what’s yours?”

Your smile could not have been broader, you couldn’t believe that someone as cute as him would ask for your number.

Then you quickly looked around you for a piece of paper and a pen “Hang on… I’ll write it down for you.”

Isaac realized you were looking for something to write your number down on. He quickly took his phone from his pocket.

“Here. You can put it in my phone…if you want?” He clumsily handed you his phone, almost dropping it twice.

You gladly took the phone from him and added your number to his contact list, then handed him back the phone “Here you go.”

It was as if he couldn’t believe you had actually given him your number “Thanks…I’ll call you soon.”

You truly hoped he was being honest and that he would actually call you.

The both of you were suddenly interrupted when your boss asked you why you weren’t busy doing your job at the moment.

So you said a quick goodbye to Isaac and got back to work.

You were waiting for the familiar ringtone all day, waiting for his call.

Only at ten that evening did Isaac find enough courage to call and ask you out.

And of course, you said yes.

Tags:

@rachlovesactors

I lost my Isaac taglist ;_;

#isaac lahey fic #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac x reader #isaac x you #teenw #tw isaac #daniel sharman character #Daniel Sharman #teen wolf isaac #reader x isaac lahey #isaaclahey/reader #isaaclahey/you #fluff

840 notes · View notes

munsster · 6 months

Note

hey! if ur requests are open could you do a little smth about billy taking care of drunk!reader ??

feel free to ignore if you don’t want to :)

designated loverboy

A/N: i just think… dd billy hargrove x passenger princess gif creds: @suledins

Pairings: Billy Hargrove x GN!Drunk!Reader

Summary: Billy makes sure you know how pretty you are, even when you’re drunk. 1.3k words

Warnings: sloppy drunkenness, fluff, established relationship, reader is clingy/touchy, pet names (baby, honey)

Just last year, Billy had been discharged from the hospital. He didn’t recognize the place he’d gone to school, the house he’d been living in, the body he’d grown into. He felt foreign in a place he’d finally gotten used to calling home.

But then he met you, and it was like you were the only other person speaking his language. He’d never understood a breath of fresh air until he reached your surface. The first time you touched him—his right bicep, he can still feel your fingers there if he closes his eyes—it took a week for his heart to settle down.

Now you’re clinging to him for dear life because you can’t say no to free shots. He can tell he’s going to have to help you to the car when you get this glossy look in your eye. You’re the sloppiest drunk he’s ever met, and it makes him want to stay sober for you.

Billy shovels you into the passenger seat just as the fattest tears come rolling down your cheeks. He clicks your seatbelt into place while your fingers sift through the soft curls fallen over his forehead. Your tears slip down your neck, but he’s trying to catch them with the pad of his thumb.

“What’s wrong, honey?” he coos, cradling your wrist and holding his knuckle to your cheekbone.

“Billy, I don’t ever want you to get rid of your fringe.” You fluff the hair at his brow and pinch the really tight curl by his temple. He cracks a smile. “I just love your fringe, it’s like… your special flair, Billy. Fringe. Fringe flair. Fringe flair… Oh my g—I’m so… good!”

You giggle, only interrupted by a hiccup as Billy smooths his big palms over your damp cheeks.

“You are so good, baby”—and kisses the fingers you shove against his lips—“I’m goin’ to my seat now, alright?”

You think about it for a second and then nod.

“Yes, baby! Just don’t go away for too long, baby!”

He chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Promise,” and hooks his pinkie around yours. You giggle.

“Promise, baby!”

He flashes his nice teeth and sets his hand on the top edge of your car door.

“Watch your toes.”

You shuffle your feet inward across the floor mat and he watches your smile twinkle up at him just before he shuts the door. When he slips into his seat. you pout at him.

“Was I gone for too long?”

You nod, so he leans over and kisses you.

“All better!”

You cackle and then hiccup against his shoulder as he turns the key and the car grumbles to a start. You stare at the radio, doe-eyed and curious as he pulls away from the curb.

“Wanna play somethin’?”

You nod and weakly reach out to press every button until his tape comes thru the stereo. You sigh and watch him tap the steering wheel along to the song.

Just one more night

And I’m coming off this long and winding road

You smile. “Like us.”

He glances over. “What’s that?”

You point to the stereo and chirp, “That’s what we’re doing, too.”

And you hum softly to the tune:

I’m on my way-ay-ey

Home sweet home

He chuckles and reaches for your hand.

“We are, aren’t we?”

You hold the back of his hand to your mouth and press a sloppy kiss to his knuckles. And, Jesus, when he catches a glimpse of you between the streetlights, you bat your lashes at him and pinch the skin between your teeth. He can’t keep his eyes on the road as he shifts his thigh.

“You’re really warm,” you say.

He looks straight ahead, squeezing your hand.

“Can’t help it. You’re too pretty.”

You set your intertwined hands on the center console and gape at him. He looks back and suddenly you’re frowning again.

“Baby—”

“You think I’m pretty? Really?”

He grins. “Come on…”

Billy only lets your hand go to bring his thumb to your cheek and swipe away the sudden and thick tears rolling down your cheeks. One smacks against the seat, and he can’t help but chuckle. “Baby, please!”

You sniffle, pressing your sleeve to your runny nose. “‘S not funny.”

Stifling a laugh, he chokes, “No, ‘course, honey, I’m not laughin’ at you. Nothin’s funny, that’s not what’s so funny, okay?”

He thinks you might not forgive him this time, but you nod sweetly and whisper, “Am I still pretty, you think?”

Now he’s the one frowning. A little, but it breaks his heart you think a couple of tears will scare him off. Even when you love him past the scars.

“Always, baby, come on, you’re always so pretty.”

It rolls around in your head like a single die, edges rattling against all the hard bone. And the number you land on:

“Even if I had lots of boogers and it just… never stopped?”

“Well…” Oh, and he really should’ve known how serious you’d take it when you slump into your seat. “No! No, that wouldn’t change anything, baby, shouldn’t’ve said it. All the boogers in the world couldn’t put me off’a you, alright?”

Your sad, wet face turns to him. “Mean it?”

He nods. And cracks a smile at how serious you sound. At how genuinely he feels it rotting away so sweetly at his bones.

“Of course, I mean it.”

You grab his hand again, this time shoving it’s warmth against your cheek, and he’s flicking between you and the road. But you just rub the back of his hand as he’s turning onto your street.

“That girl tonight… she was so nice,” you coo, “never met anyone so nice, and she even offered me water and sat with me on the couch. She was so, so nice.”

Billy remembers seeing her next to you. He remebers trying to remember where he’d seen her before. From across the room, he watched you laugh at her joke and felt warmth spread through his taut chest. Loosened him up as he realized you’re the only person he’d happily stay sober for.

“Sounds like I’ve got competition—”

It’s silly of him to say, because he knows you’d start a war before letting him think he’s replaceable in any capacity. But it’s a nice reminder that he’s worth a war. And he likes the sound of your voice.

“NO, BILLY! No! You’re nice, too, don’t worry! But you’re nice ‘cause you love me, and she was a stranger who was nice and I don’t think she loves me. But you do, and that’s why you’re so nice! And you’re nice looking, too!”

He nods like he’s getting the mental picture, slotting the puzzle pieces into places they don’t fit. “Ohh, okay.”

The engine ticks once he brings the car to a stop. He makes sure to hustle when he opens your door and reaches for your seat belt buckle. He doesn’t expect you to ragdoll against him, but he catches you before he teeters all the way backwards.

“Really, you are nice,” you whisper.

“Thank you, baby.”

“Yeah, baby! Can we cuddle about it??”

He shuts your door behind you and hooks his arm around your back tightly so he can be your center of gravity.

“Definitely. Did you wanna wait ‘til we’re inside, or just cuddle out here—”

“No, no, no, no—“

“Are you sure? It’s the perfect temperature out here,” he teases.

“Billy, please no, no, inside, please.”

“But the grass is nice!”

“Billy!!! Please, no grass!!” you whine, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and attempting to drag him towards your door. He pretends to fall weak to your incredible strength.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! I’m sure. No grass!”

“Alright, I hear ya. No grass,” Billy says, pulling you back against his side and kissing your temple.

“Promise?” you huff.

“Promise.”

masterlist

#billy hargrove #billy #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x gn!reader #billy hargrove x drunk!reader #stranger things #x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #fluff #x gn!reader #x gn reader #established relationship

275 notes · View notes

thatdammchickennugget · 5 months

Text

Puppy Love

pairing - robert 'bob' floyd x fem!reader

summary - bob finds a puppy on the side of the street and brings it to your shelter, having trouble getting you off his mind after

warnings - fluff, teasing

wordcount - 2.1k

Bob was relieved when he pulled into the shelter’s parking lot and saw the lights still on. The small puppy on his passenger seat whined when the car stopped moving, staring up at him with big round eyes.

He got out and walked around the car, carefully picking up the grey bundle of fur. The door was closed but he was sure someone was still inside as there was another car still parked in the lot. He knocked on the glass gently, then a little harder the second time.

After the second knock, a head peeked around the doorway behind the reception desk. Spotting him drenched in the rain, the woman quickly stepped around the counter and went to unlock the door. She pulled it open just a smidge. “I’m sorry, we’re already closed for today.”

“Oh, I was hoping you could help me really quick,” Bob told her, an apologetic look on his face, mentioning to the puppy he was holding. “But I can come back in the morning. What time do you open?”

The woman looked down at the shaking dog, seemingly thinking for a moment. Then she pulled the door open all the way. “Come on in. You both look drenched to the bone.”

She walked ahead, back to the room she had come from, and Bob followed behind her. She mentioned towards the metal table in the centre of the room and opened up one of the cabinets, pulling out some towels.

“Where did you find this little guy?” she asked and handed Bob one of the towels, before holding out her hand for the puppy to sniff. Seeing that he was not reacting aggressively, she carefully started rubbing over his fur with a towel, trying to warm him up.

“He was lying on the side of the road. Wasn’t moving at all when I found him,” Bob explained, watching as she checked the puppy over for any injuries.

“Thank you for bringing him here. Looks like he has been out there by himself for a while,” the woman smiled at him, happy to find that except for being insanely thin and cold, the pup seemed to be fine. “He doesn’t have a collar. We’ll have to check if he’s chipped, but I doubt it.”

Bob watched in awe how the dog settled down as you fussed over him, stopping his whining. He was now lying down on the towel you had used, eyes closing as you ran a finger over his forehead. He felt his face heat up when you smiled up at him again.

“Thanks again,” you told him. “Lots of people would have just left him there.”

You noticed him nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “Of course, I couldn’t just leave him in the rain.”

“Well, I’m going to get him cleaned up and sort out a place for him to stay for the night. I promise he’s in good hands here,” you said with a grin, aware that the man looked slightly hesitant to leave the puppy’s side. “You should probably head home and get out of these wet clothes before you catch a cold.”

“Sure, yeah,” Bob stammered out, cursing himself for how nervous he was. He was glad Nat wasn’t here to see him make a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl. The whole dagger crew would have heard about it by tomorrow.

You waited until you heard the front door shut before looking down at your new friend. “He was kind of cute, wasn’t he?”

The puppy just licked your hand in response.

⌞☆⌟ ⌞☆⌟ ⌞☆⌟

Maybe he should not have come back. Did people usually come in to check on the dogs they dropped off here? He was not sure.

This time you were standing behind the reception desk when he entered the building, a grin making its way onto your face when you recognized him. You had been kicking yourself for not asking for his name the night before, not thinking you would see him again. And social media stalking without knowing the person’s name turned out to be quite difficult.

“Found another dog?” she joked as he walked up to her.

“No, not this time,” Bob chuckled and watched her mark her place in her book and put it to the side. “I don’t know if this is weird, but I wanted to check in on him?”

His question made you smile again, the sight bringing colour into his cheeks. “Not weird at all. Would you like to see him?”

You told him to follow you when he nodded, leading him through the long hallway of kennels and out into the yard behind the building. Bob walked behind you, passing multiple fenced in areas with dogs relaxing in the sun and playing.

“We got him checked at the vet this morning and other than being underweight he is perfectly healthy, thank god,” you started talking, stopping in front of one of the gates. “No chip, though. That means this little guy is up for adoption. Are you interested?”

“Oh, no.” Bob watched as the puppy ran after one of the other dogs, looking much better already than the night before. “I don’t think I’d have enough time to look after a dog well enough.”

“That’s unfortunate. I bet you’d be a great dog owner. And I think he would agree.”

Bob’s eyes drifted to you, now watching you instead of the dogs. There was a proud look on your face as you looked around at your fosterlings. He liked the way the skin around your eyes crinkled when you smiled.

“Do you work here alone?” he asked you, realising he has not seen anyone else around here.

“Most of the time it’s just me. My sister tries to help out when she can. And sometimes a couple of students come to play with the dogs and take them on walks. But it’s been hard to find volunteers,” you admitted, and Bob frowned when the smile fell off your face.

“So, this is your place?” he tried to steer the conversation into a different direction.

“Yeah, opened it up just a couple months ago.” He internally cheered when you went back to smiling at him. “Have been working up to it for years, though. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before things turn around. Pretty sure people are going to storm the place to make one of these sweet little guys part of their families.”

“Definitely,” he agreed with you. “So, how do you go about volunteering here?”

You turned to fully face him, studying his face to figure out if he was being serious. “Are you thinking about it?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, hand going to rub at his neck as he pushed his glasses back up onto his nose. The two of you made your way back into the building and you went back to your spot behind the desk.

“Well, if you want to try it out and if you’re not busy you should come by on Saturday,” you beamed at him. “I’m hosting an open house. The whole day is going to be about the pups, it’s going to be fun! And I’m bringing snacks!”

“Well if there’s going to be snacks, I’ll have to check it out,” he joked and suddenly felt way too warm at the sound of your sweet laugh.

“Then it’s a date,” you chuckled, sliding over one of the flyers you had made.

⌞☆⌟ ⌞☆⌟ ⌞☆⌟

Bob had already been waiting for almost half an hour by the time the other’s pulled into the parking lot on Saturday. Jake was the first one to arrive, Bradley’s bronco right behind him. The look on Nat’s face when she climbed out of the passenger side made Bob question why he had invited them in the first place.

They had already agreed to tag along when he told them they would be spending the day playing with puppies, but all of them perked up even more at the mention of you. But he had wanted to make sure you saw some new faces at the shelter today. He even went to pick up his niece before coming here, giving his sister and brother-in-law a well-deserved day off.

“Finally. Took you long enough,” Bob complained as Jake sidled up to him.

“Missing your lady that bad?” Jake pushed his sunglasses on his nose, shooting a mischievous grin in Bob’s direction.

His niece pulled at his sleeve to get his attention. “I want to go see the puppies now!”

“Let’s go then,” Natasha smiled at the girl, taking her hand. “Lead the way, Bob.”

The others followed him across the lot and into the building. The reception area was empty today. A sign on the counter pointed them towards the kennels, so Bob led them through the long hallway and out into the yard.

Laughter and squealing was to be heard from one of the fenced in areas outside, a few kids running around and throwing toys for the dogs to chase while their parents watched with differing expressions.

A couple was watching with fond smiles as you talked to them excitedly. Another was mumbling to each other, looking slightly concerned as their son kept on raving about why they had to adopt the golden retriever puppy he was hugging.

Clara let go of Natasha’s hand to run up to the fence, bouncing on her feet. “Which one is yours Uncle Bob?”

He crouched down next to her, looking around the area before pointing out the fluffy grey puppy he had found. “That one right there.”

“Can we go pet him please?”

“Sure, come on,” he said and opened up the gate to let everyone through. The dog in question noticed his arrival right away, sprinting up to him to jump up his legs. Clara let out a laugh when he jumped over to her, licking at her hands.

“Looks like he remembers you,” your voice suddenly called out to him. You were making your way over to him, a beaming smile on your face. Your smile got even wider when you saw he did not come alone. “Who are your friends?”

Jake immediately stepped forward, offering you his hand with a charming smile. “I’m Jake, pleasure to meet you.”

He then grinned back at Bob. “You didn’t tell us just how pretty she is, Bobby.”

Natasha rolled her eyes at the man before introducing herself to you. The two of you quickly hit it off, laughing as you watched the group of men fawn about the little puppies alongside the children.

As you and Natasha continued chatting, Jake couldn't resist teasing Bob about his obvious attraction to you. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Jake leaned in closer to you, playfully teasing, "You know, Bob here has been smitten with you. Hasn't been able to shut up about you. Look, it's written all over his face."

Bob immediately denied it, his cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson. "Jake, come on. I barely know her," he muttered to his supposed friend, sending you an apologetic look. "I'm sorry about him. He thinks he's being funny."

Feigning innocence, Jake grinned and decided to seize the opportunity to rile Bob up a little more. He turned his attention back to you, his charming smile widening. "Well, if Bob's not making a move, I guess I can shoot my shot."

You looked at him with a mixture of surprise and amusement, unsure of how to respond to his sudden change in demeanour. Before you could say anything, Jake winked at you. "What do you say, sweetheart? How does dinner next Friday sound?"

Caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Bob, who was watching the interaction with a mix of surprise and slight disappointment. You noticed the way the spectacled man's jaw set, his eyes watching you intensely, waiting for your response.

Finally, you smiled and decided that if Bob was too shy to ask you out, you'd use Jake's flirting to your advantage, feeling a sense of excitement bubbling within you. "Sure, I'd love to go to dinner."

Both Jake and Bob's eyes widened, neither of them expecting you to actually agree. Your gaze left Jake to find Bob's eyes, smiling up at him. "But I'd rather go with Bob. Is next Friday good for you? We could go catch a movie after?"

His mouth quivered upwards at the corners in an amused smirk. His heart skipped a beat when you looked up at him with expectant eyes. "Y-yes. Friday is perfect," he nodded eagerly, and you gave him another warm smile, not missing the smut smile on Jake's face.

Masterlist

Requesting Guidelines

Get Added To The Taglist

#bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x you #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #top gun #tog gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #mari writes

170 notes · View notes

buckychristwrites · 11 months

Text

About You | Day 5 | j.t.

Summary: Your job? Pop culture journalist for The Independent. Your assignment? To write a profile on the cocky footballer that you're publicly feuding with.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Cussing. Enemies to lovers

A/N: Let me know what you think! :)

Masterlist | About You Masterlist | Main Blog

“Oh, sorry!”

Your face was contorted in guilt as you watched the lady who was just smacked with the front door of your apartment building scurry away, giving you one last glare before disappearing down a side street. Was it because you were rushing out the door? Was it just because she was an old bat? It was hard to say. But you knew that you’d continue to feel bad about it for the rest of the day.

Shaking off the negative feeling that incident left behind, you turned down the sidewalk and made your way down the sidewalk.

It was a beautiful day, the sun shining down for the first time in 3 days. It was welcome. As the rays kissed your skin, you closed your eyes as if soaking them in. Popping your headphones in, you shuffled your music and continued to walk. The sidewalk wasn’t as crowded today as it normally was, and it made the journey all the more pleasant.

“Oi!”

You continued to walk with a slight sway in your step. The crosswalk sign changed to stop just as you approached. A dog on a leash walked by, stopping to smell your shoes. You watched with a smile as he and his owner walked off.

Over the sound of your music, you thought you could hear your name being called. You began to glance around. Was your name actually being called? Or was it something in the song? The answer was confirmed when you heard it again, this time much louder than before.

Turning, you spotted Jamie. He was quite a distance away, jogging with one drink in each hand. When you noticed you looking, he raised his hands up in the air. The smile he donned was so wide that you couldn’t help but return it. A man tried to sidestep him, but Jamie accidentally ran into him anyway.

“Sorry, mate,” He said, looking more annoyed than apologetic as he caught up to you. He deeply inhaled and exhaled sharply before meeting your eye once more.

“‘Mornin’.”

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“Did you get tired of being a menace to other drivers and decide to torture the pedestrians?” He let out a faux laugh.

“Hilarious, you are.” You glanced around, still in disbelief.

“How do you remember where I live?” You asked in astonishment. He shrugged, as if this was a completely normal thing to occur.

“Just followed the way I drive to the pitch,” He said. “I always see ya walkin’.” He lifted up one of the cups. “I got you a… coffee?” It was more of a question, as if he took a wild guess at what you would want.

“I’m more of a tea drinker…” Quickly, he handed you the cup in the opposite hand. You were awestruck as you stared at the cup before taking it from him. He really bought one of each because he would rather buy two drinks than buy you nothing. You accepted the cup and brought it to your mouth.

“I picked one that I like,” He admitted, sounding sheepish. “Hope it’s alright.”

“It’s great.” And it really was. You smiled at him. “You really didn’t have to do this.” He shrugged.

“‘S what mates are for, innit?”

You bit your lip, but the smile still broke through.

“So we’re mates then?”

This question seemed to catch him off guard, and he slowly began to walk in the direction of the pitch.

“Well, yeah,” He answered. “Ya know too much about me now. Have to keep an eye on ya to make sure you don’t go blabbin’ to everyone.” You caught up so you were walking next to him, the two of you hogging the whole sidewalk.

“Well, there goes my whole plan.”

It was a nice invasion of your morning. The tea was excellent, and it made you want to ask Jamie what shop he bought it from. He had his hood up in hopes to not be recognized as he drank his coffee. You wondered what that was like, to always be in hiding. Being a journalist gave you the privilege of being forever unrecognised. While your picture was published along with the article, people rarely paid any attention to it. In return, you didn’t have to worry about people bothering you in the streets or having to walk around in disguise.

Your train of thought was interrupted when a hand was pressed into your side, pulling you over.

“Watch it.”

Suddenly, you were standing in front of Jamie, and when you looked over, a bicyclist sped passed, a glare sent your way in his wake. Jamie’s hand was still holding you as you gathered yourself, his fingers brushing a patch of bare skin that was exposed from your riding up shirt.

“Where’d your head go?” He asked. “Almost killed ya.” You shook your head quickly before taking a step away from him.

“Sorry, I just… lost myself in thought, I guess.” You started walking again, and though his hand was back at his own side, the ghost of his touch long lingered.

Silence fell over the two of you again as the journey to Nelson Road continued. You were taking care to put some extra distance between yourself and Jamie. You couldn’t explain it. Just because you and him were friends now, that wasn’t an open invitation to get all handsy. If fate calls for a bike to kill you, who is he to stop it? No, he should keep his hands to himself.

Rounding the corner in front of you came a small child who was hand in hand with his father. The hoodie was not enough to fool him, for the small boy began jumping up and down and pointing to Jamie. His father froze as his cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson. He pulled his son over to the side and kneeled down to calm him, at least that’s what you assumed was happening. It clearly didn't work, because the boy broke free of his father’s grip and ran up to Jamie.

“You’re Jamie Tartt!” He exclaimed, still bouncing up and down. “Legend! You’re my favourite footballer!”

The father ran over at top speed and had an obvious apology being loaded up. But with a raised hand and a gentle smile, Jamie stopped him before lowering down to one knee so he was eye level with the boy.

“You wanna be a footballer?” He asked in the friendliest tone you’d ever heard from him. The kid frantically shook his head, more star struck than he had been before. It was at this moment, as Jamie pulled a marker from his pocket, that you noticed the boys Richmond jersey. “What position do you play?”

“A striker! Just like you!” The child didn’t miss a beat. Jamie laughed as he signed his shirt without even being asked. You glanced over at the father, who also looked just as in awe as his son.

“You keep practicin’ and you’ll be better than me,” Jamie told him, giving his hair a shake before standing up and holding his hand out for the father. “Take care, mate.” The man stared at the hand for just a second too long, but still managed to reach up and grab it, profusely thanking Jamie for his kindness.

“Bye, Jamie Tartt!” The boy shouted as they walked off. In the distance, you could hear him singing Jamie’s chant. Plastered to the back of his little jersey was the number 9 with the name Tartt across the top.

It wasn’t until another thirty seconds had passed and Jamie looked over at you that you realized you had been staring at him.

“What?”

You whipped your head forward, giving him a terse smile before continuing the walk to work.

“Nothing.”

Keeley Jones stood in the car park of the stadium, scrolling on her phone when the both of you arrived. When she caught sight of you and Jamie approaching, her expression lit up.

“Hiya!” She exclaimed, skipping over. “How’s the profile going?”

“It’s been going rather well, actually,” You said as you looked at Jamie for validation. He met your eye and nodded.

“Very good.”

This made her look incredibly pleased, and you wondered how such a small person could contain so much positivity. Every time you saw her, she looked like she was ready to burst with love and happiness.

She turned to you briskly. “You’re coming to the Gala next week, yeah?”

You nodded.

“I have a press pass,” You told her. Jamie turned towards you, eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t know you were comin’,” He said. You scrunched up your face slightly in disbelief at his remark.

“They can’t have me doing a profile on one of Richmond’s players and not have me go to Richmond’s Gala.”

Richmond’s first ever Charity Gala was a new event that was Keeley’s idea, but was pushed by Rebecca. The point was for all of the club’s shareholders and sponsors to show up for an evening of dancing, food, entertainment, and most importantly, donating to the charity of choice. This year, the money would benefit homeless youth, although you couldn’t for the life of you remember the name of the organization. From your understanding, the event was being held at the Nelson Road stadium, but what you couldn’t figure out was where exactly they could possibly hold it. It was tempting to ask Keeley, since she brought it up, but the surprise of it all was also quite exciting.

“Don’t you think it’s a weird idea to have a Gala with lots of drinking the night before a match?” You asked the two of them. Keeley waved you off.

“They’ll play better after a relaxing night, in my opinion,” She informed you. Did you think that was a good strategy? By absolutely no means. But her and Rebecca worked very hard, so you didn’t say anything more.

“Well, I’ve got to go,” She said. “Rebecca and I have a lot of details to iron out before then. See you guys later!” She flashed one more smile before scurrying off inside. You and Jamie followed in the same direction at a considerably lower speed.

“You bringin’ anyone to the Gala?” He asked. The question caught you off guard. Why are you feeling so bashful all of a sudden?

“Oh, erm, no,” You told him. “Press passes don’t allow for a plus one.” Pause. “Not that I’d have anyone to bring if it did.” He nodded in understanding. He reached the door first, holding it open for you before following you in. You glanced at him before quickly looking forward again. “You?”

“Me what?”

“Are you bringing anyone?”

He scoffed. “No. Definitely not.”

His answer, both the answer itself and the way he said it, surprised you.

“Why not?”

“Don’t have anyone to ask,” He said. “Not anyone I’d want to spend a whole evenin’ with.” Now it was your turn to scoff.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of great ladies that you could ask and have an amazing time with.”

When you looked over, the goofy smile on your face was instantly wiped away. He was staring at the floor, his expression unreadable. Before you could ask him about the change, he crossed into the changing room, which was as loud as ever with voices and laughter. Like the flip of a switch, Jamie plastered a smile on his face and enthusiastically greeted his teammates, who greeted him with the same vigour. Sinking onto the bench in front of his locker, you pulled out your notepad.

The Richmond team brings out a sort of happiness in Tartt that you don’t see anywhere else.

“How can ya already have notes to write? We just got here!” Jamie said as he flopped down next to you, pulling his hoodie over his head.

“I’m clearly taking notes about all the naked men in here.” He looked aghast, pressing a hand to his chest..

“The only naked man you should be takin’ notes on is me. Look at all this.” He pulled the undershirt off to reveal his bare torso.

“Oh yes,” You said mockingly as you pretended to study him and take more notes. “‘Jamie Tartt’s biceps are bigger than a teenager’s head and could easily crack a watermelon.’” You came off as coy, but all of this was to distract from the fire that was roasting in your cheeks.

“There ya go,” He said with a playful smile. “Give the people what they want.” You continued with the game.

“‘Tartt’s abs are sculpted with the same look of bread buns, fresh out of the oven, and every woman in a 150 metre radius wishes they had kneaded them.’”

“Change it to 300 metres and you got it.” You rolled your eyes.

“Shall we make it an even 500 metres, just to be sure?”

He snapped his fingers and pointed at you.

“Now you’re thinkin’ like a real writer.”

The whiplash you got when you thought of how quickly things turned around with Jamie was indescribable. If someone had told the you from a week ago, hell even 4 days ago, that you would be sitting around with Jamie Tartt, laughing and making jokes, you would’ve probably spit in their face. But here you were, laughing with him as if you had known him for years.

When the coaches entered, you flipped to a blank sheet of paper. Jamie pulled a hoodie over his head. When you looked around, you noticed that the whole team seemed to be wearing the same one.

“Match against Chelsea is in two days' time,” Roy reminded everyone. “We’ll have one more practise today, and then tomorrow will be to rest and prepare.” You leaned towards Jamie.

“You guys don’t practise right before a match?” He shook his head, speaking in a low voice.

“It's a new strategy. Game day eves are for relaxin’ and restin’.”

It didn’t really clarify anything, but you didn’t want to get yelled at again, so you straightened back up and let it go.

Practice was pretty straightforward. They ran drills. They ran plays. Roy Kent yelled. Coach Beard shrieked. Nate Shelley stayed (mostly) silent. When late afternoon hit, they decided it was time to throw in the towel. The team filed into the changing room.

“Remember,” Roy Kent said in a warning tone. “You all better fuckin’ rest tomorrow or I’ll rip your testicles out through your mouth.” Even when the coaches had disappeared into their office, you continued to stare in the direction of the door.

“I would love to spend a day with Roy and a therapist, just to hear what goes on in that brain of his,” You said to Jamie, shaking your head. Jamie patted your shoulder.

“You and me both, darlin’.”

You didn’t even dignify that with a response.

The team all walked out together, making jokes and laughing as they always did. As they parted in the car park, there was a chorus of See you laters and Have a good day offs.

“Make sure to relax, lads,” Isaac’s voice echoed over the crowd. Everyone agreed before breaking to head to their cars.

“Can I walk ya home?”

You turned to Jamie, whose body was already turned towards the direction that you’d go to head home. A smile crept onto your face, filling your cheeks.

“You don’t have to do that,” You said as you approached him. He raised his hands up, giving you a look.

“I don’t have to do anythin’.” His hands dropped back to his sides. “I offered ‘cos I want to.” You nodded.

“I know.”

The sun was low in the sky, surrounded by orange and purple hues. You stared at the colours that painted the world above you, your heart at ease. Jamie looked over at you, his eyes following your gaze towards the sky.

“You never told me your favourite time of day,” He pointed out. You glanced at him before looking upwards once more.

“This,” You said, gesturing around you. “The sunset.”

“What makes it any different than a sunrise?”

“The colours are different, obviously.” Which was true. In your opinion, the colours of a sunset were deeper, while sunrises were more pastel. You took a beat to give it more thought. “It’s a beautiful ending, no matter how wonderful or horrific a day is. You always get a beautiful ending. Even when the clouds cover them, you know the colours are there above them.” Pause. “It’s like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.”

The feeling of him staring at you made you nervous, but you didn’t look at him at all.

“So what’s a sunrise then?” He asked you.

“Seeing the positive in every single day. Knowing it has the potential to be good, even if you have no way of knowing.”

He smiled, eyebrows furrowed together.

“Now you’re just makin’ things up.”

“You’re just not using your imagination,” You told him, laughing despite it. He was laughing too.

“I’d love to see the good in every single day,” He admitted as the two of you stopped at a crosswalk. “But on a day when we lost a game, or I feel a wee bit off, it’s hard to come back from that.”

The light changed, and the two of you began to cross.

“What happens in your head when bad things happen?” You asked him. A blush filled his cheeks as he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before answering.

“I… erm.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I hear me dad’s voice, tellin’ me I’m a failure. Or that I don’t deserve to have a good day anyway. Stuff like that.” The pain in his expression was apparent. It was heartbreaking that his father’s abuse haunted him so much.

“Where is he?” You asked him. “Your dad.”

“He’s sober now, still livin’ in Manchester. I see ‘im sometimes.” He sighed. “I’m happy he’s not a drunk anymore. But it’s still hard to forget everythin’ he did to me.”

A car driving in the opposite direction of the pair of you blared its horn, the passengers hanging out of the windows to give Jamie a wave and to yell encouraging words about the upcoming match. Jamie gave them a wave before tiredly dropping his arm back down, the smile instantly disappearing from his face.

“You being happy for and loving your dad while also being angry with him for what he’s done to you are two things that can both be true,” You reminded him. He shook his head.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does,” You argued. “Him being sober now doesn’t erase the pain he caused in the past and the trauma you still have ingrained in you. But you obviously still have love for him, despite all that.” He was pulling at his fingers in anxiety. You watched him.

“Have you ever gone to therapy about this?” He laughed, though it didn’t have much humour in it.

“I saw Dr. Sharon for a few sessions before she left,” He admitted. “But I haven’t talked to anyone since.”

“You should consider finding a new one.”

He eyed you.

“And what will ya do when I can’t talk to you about this stuff anymore ‘cos I talked it all out with a professional?”

You were about to respond with something along the lines that then he’d be a normal person to talk to, but you stopped, your chest filled with melancholy.

“It won’t matter in a few days, will it?”

He froze, the smile slowly slipping away from his face until it was replaced with a frown. Fingers running through his hair, his eyes dropped to the ground as if he couldn’t look at you anymore. As if it was painful to do so.

“I guess it won’t.”

The building was suddenly in front of you, and you turned to him with your hands behind your back.

“This is me.”

He nodded.

“How ya gonna spend your day off?” He asked. You shrugged.

“I’ll probably get started on writing this article,” You said with a sigh. “The best and worst part of my job is the part where I have to write.” He gave you a half grin.

“Isn’t that the majority of your job?”

“Yes,” You said with a fake sad tone. “Yes, indeed it is.” He shook his head as he smiled, looking around at the buildings surrounding. You did the same.

“I guess I’ll see you at the match, then,” You said. He nodded, almost looking sad. He gave you a quick salute, which you returned, before turning and heading off down the sidewalk. Suddenly, you took a step forward.

“Jamie!”

He spun around so quickly, you were surprised he didn’t fall. You didn’t really have anything to say, honestly. You just really weren’t ready for him to leave. When you were quiet after a few seconds, he took a step towards you.

“Yeah?”

“What is your go-to karaoke song?” His expression fell into deep thought as his fingers gripped his chin. After a few seconds, the lightbulb seemed to go off in his brain.

“Probably somethin’ by Robbie Williams.” He lifted a finger, pointing at you. “But nothin’ by Take That. Solo Robbie Williams only.” You laughed, shaking your head as you began to turn towards your building.

“Noted.” You smiled at him once more. “Goodnight, Jamie.” He smiled back, one of the widest you’d ever seen from him.

“G’night.”

Letting yourself into the building, you pressed your back against the wall, taking a deep breath before pulling out your phone. The goofy smile was still plastered to your face as you typed out a text and hit send, feeling deeply satisfied and elated when the message said Delivered.

When you got back upstairs, you dropped your phone and purse onto the couch before heading to the bathroom.

Your phone was still open, displaying the text you had just sent to your boss.

I’ll be taking another week at Richmond. x

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso fanfiction

394 notes · View notes

bakugotrashpanda · 7 months

Text

Bakugou x F!Reader, Demon!Dabi x F!Reader Word Count: 3.4k

!!: sex, noncon, virginity, fingering, oral, spanking, ‘good girl’

A/N: And to round out kinktober 2023, something more than 100 words

Is there a word for bad miracles?

Stairs creak under your feet. A small gust of wind swirls around you and makes every hair on your body stand on end. Your boyfriend shines his flashlight around the dark foyer, highlighting the furniture covered with musty tarps. Whoever lived out here clearly thought they were coming back… until they didn’t.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, “Why did we have to come out here?”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid now,” Bakugou scoffs.

You watch the flashlight beam sweep across a corner laced with cobwebs. “It’s… creepy.”

“Come on,” he says and keeps climbing the staircase. “I got a surprise for you upstairs.”

“I swear to god if you’re trying to scare me.”

From the top of the stairs, the flashlight turns on you and illuminates your face. “Remember when we first started dating? Your profile said you liked adventure.”

“Yeah,” you cross your arms over your chest. “Hiking and shit, not abandoned houses.”

“C’mon, you’ll like it. I promise.” He walks down the hall, and when an eerie feeling settles over you from being alone, you run up the last couple steps to catch up to him.

Bakugou turns a door knob. You brace yourself for one of his friends to pop out from behind and scare the shit out of you. He walks in, and you take a hesitant step forward. Warm, soft lights come on.

Peering in, you let out a soft ‘oh’ before relaxing. In the middle of the room is a neatly made bed covered in rose petals. You recognize the plush comforter from Bakugou’s closet back at his apartment. The man in question walks around the room lighting white votive candles – some in equally small, carved pumpkins and others in glass holders.

“Not so scary now, is it?”

“Katsuki,” a blush crawls up your cheeks. “Did you do all this?”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t let anyone else do it.” He lights the last candle before walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you.

“Why not a hotel or something?” you blurt out.

“Really?” he raises an eyebrow. “You’re going to nag about where I chose to go?”

“It’s just that it’s so romantic and everything else about the house is… not.”

“Our anniversary is Halloween. I’m sticking with the fucking theme.”

“We could’ve gone to an amusement park-” you start to protest.

Bakugou’s brows furrow together. “Why’re you stalling?”

“What?”

“You’re stalling.”

“I-”

“Damn it,” Bakugou runs a hand through his hair. “Kirishima was right, this was stupid. You hate it.”

“Katsuki, I don’t hate it, but there’s a bed in the middle of the room! And you know I’m saving myself for…” Your voice trails off. Saying it outloud, here, in the abandoned house, makes it seem so childish.

Bakugou’s rough thumb strokes your cheek. “I know you’re saving yourself for marriage. Which is why-” he slowly sinks down to his knee and pulls out a small velvet box. “-I was hoping you would say yes to marrying me.”

“Oh my god!” You slap a hand over your mouth. Through the tears welling up in your eyes, you can barely make out Bakugou’s hopeful expression as he waits with bated breath for your answer. Nodding, you hold out your left hand and let him slide the ring on with shaky fingers. “Yes, oh god, yes!”

You pull Bakugou to his feet and stare at the ring, a new comfortable weight on your finger. “I’m still waiting until we’re married,” you choke out as he wipes away the tears.”

“Don’t remind me,” he groans and pulls you close. “But there’s other things we can do here.” His lips press against yours. You relax into it, your body softening against his.

It starts as a distant rumble, something you could pass off as a car in the distance. But when the lights start to flicker and the house shakes, you and Bakugou break apart. An earthquake? Right now? Bakugou grabs your hand and mutters something about needing to leave before the place falls in on itself.

Black smoke swirls from floor to ceiling in front of the two of you and all the air in the room is sucked in by the vortex. Bakugou’s arm stiffens under your vice like grip. When the smoke falls away, a man with jet black hair stands where the vortex was. Scarred skin covers a majority of his arms and upper part of his torso, but what stands out against that are his unsettling turquoise eyes that seem to glow from within.

“Mortals,” a gravelly voice snarls, “You dare to disturb my resting place?”

The more you stare, the less… human the man seems – if you can even call him a human. His ears, pierced with silver, are elongated and pointed, almost like one of the aliens from a sci-fi show Bakugou had you watch. And is it your imagination, or are there puffs of smoke escaping his body where scarred and unscarred skin meet?

But the cherry on top, the features that make all the alarm bells ring in your head, are a pair of white horns standing out against his dark hair.

“Back the fuck off.” Bakugou puts his arm out protectively in front of you — as if that would protect you from whatever the fuck this thing is.

“And what are you going to do about it?” the man sneers. With a flick of his clawed fingers, Bakugou flies away from you and slams into the wall. Hands splayed, he scrabbles to find purchase as he slides upwards.

“Let him go!” you scream, “Please! Let-”

As you take a step forward, Bakugou coughs, his words strained. “Get outta here.”

“Katsuki, no, I can’t leave you here!”

“Get. Help.” That jumpstarts something in your brain. Help. Right. Help. You don’t even get one step when the door slams closed. You freeze like a deer in headlights. The demon – you decide this as your mind catches up with the last thirty seconds, it’s the only thing that makes sense – turns his attention to you. He raises his other hand and you brace yourself to fly against the wall like Bakugou had.

“Hell, what is that scent. I haven’t smelled this since…” He trails off. Inhaling deeply, his eyes burn bright, an ethereal blue you can’t stop staring at. “A virgin.”

Bakugou lashes against his invisible restraints, but you remain rooted to the spot.

A virgin.

“You. You’re my ticket out of this shithole.” He stalks around the room. Turquoise eyes glow with excitement and rove up and down your body. “A virgin sacrifice will get me out of here.”

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.” Kill you? Where are these words coming from? You don’t want to fucking die here! You certainly can’t fight this thing. Now is not the time to find false confidence.

“Kill you?” His sharp laugh grates your skin like broken glass. “Why would I kill you when I could have my way with you?”

Blood drains from your face, leaving you lightheaded. “Have your way with me?”

“I intend to take your virginity, babe,” he smirks, “I’m outta here if I fuck you.”

“Fuck me?”

“Beelzebub below, are you dating a parrot or a woman?” the demon laughs at Bakugou. Turning to face you, all humor leaves the demon’s face. He makes a zipping motion with his fingers. “If all you’re gonna do is repeat what I say, then I don’t want to hear a single sound come out of you.”

Maybe it’s fear, maybe it’s demonic power, but one way or another you’re paralyzed as the demon walks over to you. He drags one of his claws down your cheek and hooks it at the top of your shirt. Acrid smoke fills the air as his finger cuts away your clothes. Your shirt and bra — a black lace specially picked out for Bakugou — fall to the floor, leaving your tits exposed to the cool air of the room. Your pants and panties follow suit and you close your eyes as both the demon and Bakugou drink in your naked form.

Sharp nails drag across your skin as he circles you – thankfully painless and leaving no cuts like he did your clothes. The demon’s hand cups one of your breasts as if appraising it before trailing down your stomach and across your ass.

This can’t be happening.

He’s talking, but it’s not to you, and you tune him out.

Please, please. Someone help us.

Bakugou struggles against the wall and the demon cackles before slinging more taunts.

If there is a god out there, please help me.

The demon’s hand smacks your ass with a satisfying smack. Silent tears roll down your cheek.

No one will come and save you.

Your head is viciously jerked to the side and you can make out the demon’s face inches from your own through your tearstained vision.

“I said,” he says softly, “Let’s give your precious boyfriend a show.” His hand slithers down your stomach and parts your folds. You shudder against his touch.

No. No, no, no, no.

His fingers graze your clit, sending a bolt of electricity to your core. Bile rises in your throat.

Please god no. Don’t let him touch me. This is humiliating enough.

There’s a chuckle in your ear. The demon presses a finger against your entrance and slowly eases in. Your mouth opens in a silent sob. He teases you, strokes your walls with a ‘come hither’ motion.

You hate that you can feel him writhing around inside you. You hate that he’s gone farther than Bakugou ever had. But most of all, you hate that you can feel yourself loosening up for him; getting wetter for him.

A second finger slides in. Bakugou glares at the demon but doesn’t look away. Can he not look away? Is he stuck watching you get fucked against your will?

A forked tongue wraps around the demon's fingers when he drags them out of you and holds them up for Bakugou to see – clear strings of arousal lapped up.

“Have you even tasted her?” he taunts, “She’s divine.” Bakugou’s gaze flits from you to the demon, his cheeks turning beet red. There’s no retort from him.

With a wave of the demon’s hand, the bed in the middle of the room slides closer to Bakugou. The demon takes your hand and leads you over.

A front row seat to your first time. Rose petals flutter around you as you bounce onto the bed. The bed Katsuki prepared. Your legs are knocked apart, and you watch in silent horror as the demon strokes his cock mere inches from you.

“Watch, mortal, as I take your girlfriend’s fucking virginity.” His glowing eyes turn back to you. The head of his cock presses against your entrance. You don’t want this. You were saving yourself for the man you planned on marrying. You were saving yourself for Katsuki. And now he has to watch this.

You should be embarrassed.

You should feel shame.

You should feel anything except… needy arousal.

You can’t even look away as he pushes in. Your voice may be gone, but you inhale sharply as his cock splits you open. It’s not what you thought it would be. There’s no pain, no uncomfortable tearing sensation; just a stretching that leaves you dazed and overwhelmed.

“Fuck,” the demon hisses, “I forgot how good virgins are.” Large hands wrap around your waist and pull you further down on his cock. You bite your lower lip. Maybe the pain can distract you from how your blood is roaring inside you.

It’s not until he’s buried all the way inside you that his eyes flash a brilliant blue. He holds you against him, his mouth slightly agape. His whisper barely reaches your ears. You wouldn’t have known he was talking if you weren’t watching his mouth move.

“I’m free.”

You lay on your back unmoving. If he’s free then he could leave. He could walk out of the house and leave you and Bakugou alone. This nightmare could end.

“You fucked her, now let her go!” Bakugou’s shout causes the demon’s blissful peace to crumple into a snarl.

“Your pretty lady set me free, the least I can do is give her a good fuck to remember me by,” he smirks. His hands slide up the back of your legs and hook under your knees. Pushing them towards your chest, he leans in, somehow pressing deeper into you. Your breath hitches and your mouth falls open.

Shit.

If you had your voice, you know a needy moan would’ve filled the room.

All that leaves your mouth though is a sharp exhale. But he knows. He heard. You close your eyes to school your features. The moment you open them, his eyes, blazing with desire, are locked on yours.

He knows.

There’s an intimacy that brings a blush to your face as he fucks you slowly, his eyes still holding your gaze. Neither of you can look away. His cock kisses your cervix and when you think it can’t get any better, he shifts slightly, changing the angle. The demon leans in, his tongue licking a stripe up the column of your neck

“You taste so good, babe. I can taste your fucking arousal. If I give you back your voice, will you be a good girl for me?” His teeth graze your skin, sending shivers down your skin. You nod, slowly at first – like the way the demon thrusts into you – then more emphatically as he speeds up.

“I want you screaming my name,” he murmurs in your ear, “I want to hear you screaming for Dabi.” His lips lock on yours, his tongue pressing against your lips. You can’t even pretend to put up a fight; you spread your lips and meet his tongue in the middle.

A trail of spit connects his mouth to yours when he pulls back.

“Say my name.”

“Dabi,” you croon with a worn out voice. You’re rewarded with the entire length of his dick pulling out and pushing back into you.

“Again.”

You say his name louder.

Each iteration louder than the last is rewarded with a torturously slow thrust.

But you need more. You squirm beneath him, angling your hips, anything to entice him to fuck faster. And the fucker has the audacity to slow down.

“C’mere, Princess.” Dabi wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and rolls the two of you over. “I want to see these lovely tits of yours bouncing.” You arch your back as his claws trail down your back and settle at your waist. He lifts you up and down his cock, helping you get a rhythm before you take over.

The pressure building in your core has you bouncing frantically on him – you’d felt it before when you used toys and your fingers to bring yourself pleasure, but this is something more. Something toe curling. Something that has you digging your fingers into his forearms. His dick is able to hit the right places you could never get, barely satiating a newfound need deep within you.

“Hold on, Princess,” Dabi groans and effortlessly holds you above him, the tip of his cock barely inside you. You whimper at the loss of contact and try to fight his grip. “I want this to last as long as possible, so take a seat up here.”

Apparently your dumbfounded expression is hilarious since he starts laughing.

“Up here, babe.” His tongue flicks out between a scarred bottom lip and an unscarred upper lip. When you still look unsure, he hauls you up and settles your legs on either side of his face. He trails kisses up your inner thigh, each one inching closer to your core.

“Don’t worry, babe, I won’t break.”

He locks your legs against his face and you have no choice but to seat yourself against his mouth.

He has you gasping the moment his tongue flicks out. Your hands run through his hair as he laps at you, each stroke adding to your overwhelming passion. Grabbing onto hair and horn – really whatever is within your grasp, you pull yourself against him and spread your legs further.

A chorus of ‘please’ and ‘more’ fall from your lips like a desperate prayer as Dabi’s tongue swirls around your sensitive nerves.

It’s not until you lean back so his tongue can delve inside you that you feel guilt. Crimson eyes locked onto you in disbelief silences your intoxicated begging. He might as well have poured ice water over you.

You forgot about him.

You forgot your fiance was pinned to the wall, watching you enjoy a demon’s cock.

Every moment, every sound forever etched into his mind as you stopped fighting and gave in to temptation.

A sharp nip on your inner thigh brings you back to Dabi. You tear your gaze away and pull back to see the forked tongue you were enjoying so much laving the pinpricks left from his teeth.

“As much as I want you to come on my tongue, I’d rather have you creaming on my cock.”

He rolls you off his face and onto your back.

Obediently, you spread your legs, one hand creeping down to continue where he left off. The buzz running throughout your body increases with every enticing swirl of your fingers around your clit.

“I want to come, Dabi,” you mewl.

He laughs, the sound no longer shards of glass against your skin. “How can I refuse since you asked so nicely.”

He sinks inside you with a single stroke and you wrap your legs around his hips. Dabi’s fingers swat your hand away before taking over, his hand possessively splayed over your mound as his thumb works on your clit. Your hands twist in the comforter and rose petals as you drown in impending pleasure.

“Who does this cunt belong to?” Dabi growls.

“You,” you whisper.

Correct, but not enough. There’s no rewarding thrust of his dick.

“Who?” He raises an eyebrow. You know what he wants. You’re teetering on the precipice of orgasm, and every second he’s not fucking you, the feeling slips ever so slightly.

“You, Dabi!” You clench around him, desperate to keep your high. A clawed hand digs into your waist slightly and pulls you flush against him.

“Who’s the only one you’re going to fuck?” he hisses, turquoise eyes narrowing.

“You, Dabi!” you wail, the electric feeling building up, almost uncontainable. “I belong to you!”

“Good girl,” he growls and fucks into you again, “Come for me.” His words – his permission – wash over you and release the pent up feeling. Your orgasm rips through you, an intensity you’ve never felt before. No toy or even your own fingers could compare – would compare ever again.

Dabi’s hips smack against your own once, twice more before pressing flush against you. Heat pools in your lower abdomen and you can feel his cock twitching inside you. A part of you wonders if sex is always like this, but an even smaller part of you knows that it’ll only be this good when you’re with Dabi.

He untangles from you and leans over, panting slightly. He presses a surprisingly chaste kiss to your cheek before his lips ghost over your skin to your ear.

“Left you a parting gift, Princess,” he purrs, “If you ever want to see me again, just look in a mirror and say my name three times.”

The bedroom door flies open and Dabi looks your blissed out form over one last time before walking out.

When the front door slams closed, Bakugou is released and falls to the floor. He rushes to you, his hands clenching and unclenching as he hovers at the edge of the bed. Worry pushes his brows together.

All he can do is watch.

It’s up to you to break the silence.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki,” you pant, “I said I was saving myself for the person I was going to marry.”

One Week Later

You look yourself over in the bathroom mirror, adjusting your light blue bra. Pushing moving boxes out of the way, you nod to yourself encouragingly.

No time like the present.

“Dabi,” you whisper. Your irises flash a brilliant turquoise for a second. Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Dabi.” You swear you can feel his claws ghosting over your skin.

“Dabi.” The lights flicker for a moment before going out completely. The only thing visible in the mirror is the thin blue ring around your irises – until another pair or ethereal blue eyes just over your shoulder joins them. Sharp nails dig into your arms.

A deep voice chuckles in your ear. “Miss me already?”

banner image by /mwrona on unsplash

#kinktober 2023 #dabi x reader #bakugou x reader

168 notes · View notes

simplydannie · 1 month

Note

Hi Dannie! I’m sure you’ve seen these storyboards on insta but showing them to you in case you missed them. Originally Vels would spray Veneer with troll even when he said he didn’t want it. It’s funny but it really showed how much she doesn’t listen to him. Really good character moments. Your stories are so good so whenever I find something inspiring I send it your way

I’ve only seen like one frame of this story board! Now that I see all of it I get the whole context. These are pieces I wish they would’ve left in the movie to see these character moments just like you said! So much was left out on these two characters that I wish they kept in. Poor Vennie though 🥺 Let see, I’m going to go based off the first 4 shots:

Just Once More

Veneer stared at himself in his vanities mirror. Except for his green little swoop of hair, he didn’t recognize the boy staring back at him. Golden attire, blue diamond boots, cyan eye shadow.

“Is this really you Ven.” He said to himself. Veneer couldn’t help but feel a change, a shift in who he was. But was it a change for the better? Did he really want this? The door to the dressing room bursted open.

“Time for dress rehearsal!” Velvet blurted out. She quickly tossed him a diamond perfume bottle. Catching it in his hands, Veneer looked inside… a Troll, a small little innocent Troll. She looked at Veneer terrified.

“Make sure to get a good spritz in. Now let’s go!” Velvet chimed turning her heels to walk out.

The little Troll already looked so fragile, so weak. Veneer figured she wouldn’t last another spritz. He placed his hand on the pump, his eyes meeting hers. She moved as close to the edge of the perfume bottle as she could, hugging her knees, shaking in fear, her eyes never moving from Veneers. How old was she? Did she have a family? Brother or sister?… Someone she loved?…. He couldn’t do it. Veneer set the perfume bottle aside and followed after his sister.

“ARRRGGGHHH!” Velvet screamed into the mic of the studio booth. Veneer cringed as the sound echoed into his headphones. “It’s still not good enough!”

“Maybe we just need a break? Oh, and maybe some practice. Without the Trolls.” He gestured.

“What we NEED is more Troll! Especially if we want to make it to the Rage Dome show!!” Velvet took off her headphones and marched back into the booth. Veneer sighed and followed after her.

“Where is it? Where’s the little Troll?” She demanded.

“She’s back at the dressing room. Why?” Veneer placed a hand on his hip.

“Crimp! Go get her now! We need another spritz!”

“Really Vels? Again?”

“We’re so close to getting everything Veneer! We can’t give up now!” Crimp came walking in with the diamond that held the little Troll, shivering again in fear. “You go first. I don’t think you had enough. No offense little bro, but your voice was lagging it just a tiny bit…”

“No.” Veneer suddenly cutting her off. Velvet was taken back, a look of surprise crossed her face as she furrowed her brows at her brother.

“What did you just say?”

“No. I’m done using Trolls. Let’s just practice Vels! Have you ever heard of lip syncing anyways? I mean, look at the poor thing!” Veneer pointed at the diamond. The small little Troll let out smile toward him, hopeful that perhaps she’d be freed. Velvet noticed the look of admiration the Troll was giving Veneer… and she didn’t like it one bit. Velvet scowled at her brother as he kept yapping.

“I’m not saying we should tell the truth, but let’s stop living a lie just for once. Oh! Instead of essence maybe they can tutor us! Be our personal coaches! We can do this on our own Vels! We just need practice! We can- What are you doing?” He asked as she began to lean towards him. She lifted the diamond towards his face. “Vels no! I don’t-!”

Velvet spritz the essence in his face before he could get out another word out. Veneer coughed and choked at the amount of essence Velvet prayed on him. He did his best to inhale the least he could, but choking on it made it hard as he gasped for air.

A tingling sensation expanded throughout his body. He didn’t know what it was. It felt like some sort of high, his mind and vision blurring back and forth, trying to defer what was reality and what wasn’t. A sense of euphoria spreading through his body for just a moment... it felt… good.

He finally stopped gagging, breathing heavily as the sensation in his body calmed down a bit. He was holding his stomach, a sort of scowl on his face.

“What was that!” Veneer exclaimed as he held on to his throat. Velvet reached over to push in his tongue that was slightly hanging out.

“The feeling of stardom!” Velvet looked down at the diamond and frowned. “Ugh! Really! I knew I shouldn’t have sprayed you with that much. Time to restock the supply!” Velvet tossed the diamond in her hand towards the trash can as she walked out the studio room. A confused expression crossed Veneers face. He walked towards the trash can to peer at the diamond.

“Oh no….”

Picking up the diamond, he noticed the little Troll inside was not moving, she no longer bore the colors she had a moment ago. Her eyes were closed; she looked so peaceful. Veneer opened the diamond and gently shook the little Trolls body into his hand. He gently stroked her little face.

“…. I’m sorry…” He whispered, a look of despair crossing his face…. They were… killers. Tears began to stream down. How could they get themselves out of this one? How could they have known doing what they did would kill a little Troll? No matter what Veneer said, they would forever be murderers now.

“…I’m so, so sorry…” He didn’t even ask her name. He didn’t even know if she had a family… and they had just taken that away from her. He heard his sister renter the room.

“Seriously! You’re crying over a Troll.”

“We need to stop Vels.”

“No! We’re so close to the top. Once we’re at the top, we’ll stop I promise. We just need a little bit more Troll. He’s our last one so we got to manage!” She extended her hand and shook the diamond. Inside was a fresh new little Troll….Dark pink hair, bluish skin, it was a boy this time. He banged against the diamond prison.

“Hey! Let me out!” Floyd screamed. “Guys, come on don’t do this to me.”

“You asked for it Troll. Tell him Ven.”

Floyd looked desperately at Veneer who only turned away to avoid his gaze; the Trolls words still stinging his heart.

“Veneer, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”

But the Rageoun didn’t respond, he only continued to hold and caress the little dead Troll in his hands.

“See! You asked for this!” Velvet said holding the diamond to meet her eyes. “You reap what you sow, Floyd. Veneer! Get rid of that one. It’s grossing me out. We have a show to practice for.” Velvet was once again was gone.

Standing up, Veneer began to head towards a hall that lead him to the outside. He was going to bury her, properly.

He walked towards the center plaza of the studio that had a huge artificial tree blooming from the center. Fortunately, it was “planted” in dirt, to make it seem real. Using one hand, Veneer dug a tiny hole. In the other he still held the small Troll. He looked at her one last time.

“You didn’t deserve this. I- I couldn’t save you. I didn’t even try. I’m sorry.” He cried. He placed a small kiss on her little face. Veneer gently placed her in the hole and covered her up.

Thoughts began to race his mind. Was this worth it? Could this be Floyd? But his sister, she worked hard to get them here, to get them to a fabulous, better life. He had to do it, he had to do it for her. Memories of the euphoria he felt raced in again. The feeling of confidence, of dominance. It was pleasing.

Besides, Floyd wasn’t who Veneer thought he was. He thought Floyd truly cared… but he never did. He wasn’t their friend… not anymore. Yet, he still didn’t want to hurt him. If they were careful maybe they wouldn’t?

So perhaps… just one more time wouldn’t hurt.

87 notes · View notes

whirlwindimagines · 1 year

Note

Hi how are you? I hope youre ok. i love youre blog and wanted to ask if you could write nightmare comfort because i have them like every night and they end in really bad panic attacks i just need comfort 🥲

With wolfwood and vash and if you want to million knives

you dont have to.

have a nice day <3

btw sorry for my bad englisch 😅

Hi! I’m doing well, just trying to get through the week lol I’m sorry for your nightmares! That’s no fun, I hope this is nice and comforting. And I low key been wanting to write for Million Knives because he’s usually my type lol pretty, psycho, mass murderer ya know the usual type! I'm not kidding I'm a Dabi apologist; don't think I won't turn into a Knives’ one. Man, I really do be exposing myself on this blog. Also, this is my first time writing for Knives so apologies, also of course his part was the longest.

'Sweet dreams are made of this'

Vash, Nichalous D Wolfwood, and Million Knives (separate) comforting you after a nightmare.

Vash:

You awoke with a silent scream, for a second you didn't recognize where you were your heart still racing. Then it was slowly coming back to you, looking around you noticed you were in a hotel room, that’s right the group had stopped at the little motel for the night. You glanced over beside you, and let out a sigh of relief.

And Vash was right there, sound asleep, his back facing you. Placing a hand over your heart, you were glad you didn't wake him God knew he needed his sleep, the man was usually a light sleeper, but he admitted one night that when he slept in a bed with you, he was more content. It was sweet and definitely didn't make your heart race.

You lay back down, everything is fine, you are safe, Vash is safe and you are sure the others are fine in their own rooms. Okay back to bed, you don't know how long you lay there staring up at the ceiling. With a sigh you turn towards Vash, you don't really want to wake him for such a silly reason.

Reaching your hand out slowly you grip the back of his shirt between his shoulder blades. You call his name; your heart skips a beat as he stirs. “What is it?” he says with a yawn, your voice catching in your throat embarrassed. “Nothing sorry just go back to sleep.” You say quickly, dropping your hand. “Hey wait.” he shuffles around to face you; he looks tired but his gaze is focused on you. You blush, “I had a nightmare.” You admitted shyly, Vash reaches out a hand and rest it against your cheek. “Come here.” you don't need to be told twice, you moved forward wrapping your arms around Vash as his own arms settle around you. You could hear his heartbeat from where your head lay on his chest, slow, steady, safe.

Vash ran his fingers through your hair, and you were glad he wasn’t asking any questions you didn’t want to talk about it anyway. Feeling safe and protected, you relaxed even more into his hold. You knew sleep would come much easier now, you smiled when you felt Vash press a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Everything would be fine now.

Wolfwood:

“Fuck!” You awoke sharply, your hands going to your head. You forced yourself to breathe, the night air was cool against your skin and it felt good. You settled back on your back looking up at the stars.

You were shaking, placing your hands on your face you tried to control your breathing. You sigh your probably not going to get any more sleep. Placing your hands at your side you watch the sky, glancing over at your companion you are surprised to see Wolfwood awake and watching the stars.

“You good?” His voice startles you, at first you are speechless, but he turns to look at you with a raised brow. You sigh, “it’s stupid, just go back to sleep.” You say your tone was dismissive, it was silly. The nightmares were annoying at this point. “Sorry I woke you.” Turning on your side in the sleeping bag, you force your eyes close.

Wolfwood scoffs at you, hearing him shuffle around a bit. “You didn’t wake me, get up.” He shoves your shoulder; you roll your eyes sitting up and turning to him. Your face flushed he’s way too close, and you lean back a bit. “Seriously Nico it was nothing.” You don’t want to talk about this, you watch him light a smoke. He passes you one, and with a sigh you take it. He offers you a light, but you don’t take it just holding the unlit cigarette between your fingers.

The two of sitting in silence, honestly you're glad for this. He doesn’t ask you any questions, “thanks.” You whisper, too shy to look at him. He chuckles, “for what?” your gaze softens as you look at him, you rest your arms over your knees and let out a light laugh.

“For being here.” You smirk, when he looks away stubbing out the cigarette in the sand. You watch the tips of his ears turn red; Nicholas was always nervous when you went soft on him. But you loved making him blush, he flustered you so much it was only fair to return the favor.

Scooting closer to the man, you lean your head on his shoulder. Sitting right beside him now, Wolfwood doesn’t say anything. He also doesn’t look at you as he lifts an arm to wrap around your shoulders to bring you to his side. You close your eyes smiling contently, there is no place you’d rather be.

Million Knives:

The screaming you realize is your own voice, you slap your hands over your mouth to cut the sound your heart racing it feels like it's going to burst from your chest. The silence in your room is loud, only your rapid heartbeat and harsh breaths fill the space. Fuck you briefly wonder if you woke anyone up, you hope not… some of the others had quite the temper.

With a sigh, you force yourself out of the bed, and out of your room it's too suffocating. With no real destination in mind, you let your hand trail on the wall as you walk down the pristine hallway. As you continue to walk that’s when you hear the first sounds of a piano. The song is familiar of course, and you know who is playing.

You wonder if you should continue, interrupting Knives could be a death sentence for some. But the thought of going back to bed, to sleep, makes your stomach twist painfully. So, you continue trying not to think too hard when you step into the grand room. The music is louder here of course, now that you’ve reached its source.

Standing there watching, you’re sure he already knows you are there. But you don't speak out of turn, “What.” his voice is curt, but not angry you take it as a sign to continue. “I had a nightmare, and I heard you playing.” you found being honest, and blunt with Knives’ was easier. He hated when people skirt around their words, you’re a little embarrassed about what you admitted to, but your heart skips a beat when he gestures you over with a wave of his hand.

Approaching carefully, you stand off to the side he removes his hood your blood runs cold when he looks at you with a sly grin, “A nightmare?” he coos it at you mockingly, this was a bad idea you should have turned around, the moment you heard the keys of the piano. You nod, watching as he pats the bench, you know he's telling you to sit not asking.

You do, trying not to show any emotion, you couldn't ever get a read on him, A part of you knew you should be afraid, and maybe the rational side of you was, but right now? You were tired. He looks at you expecting an answer, “Yes, I get them often.” you meet his gaze shyly, and he lets out a ‘hum’ turning back to the keys and resting his hands on them not playing. “You humans fear so easily, even in sleep you can't escape it.”

Your hands clench in your lap, Knives begin to play now a softer melody one you haven't heard, you look at him in surprise but his face gives nothing away. The tune is comforting, and you can feel it lulling you to sleep. “Go ahead sleep, nothing will harm you here.” Not thinking of the consequences, you lean your head on Knives shoulder, he continues playing as the song lulls you to sleep.

433 notes · View notes

blackcherryvelvet0909 · 11 months

Text

Sea Beauty (Azul x GN!Reader)

Content Warning: Self-confidence issues, comfort/no hurt

It was late when you went back out to the beach. You weren’t sure what compelled you to go out there - you just couldn’t sleep. It was actually a nice night. With not a soul on the beach, you could really take in its beauty. The crescent moon shone high above, reflected in the waves as they crashed onto shore. A soft breeze tickled your skin, which made you tug your jacket a little tighter around your shoulders. Despite the chill, you couldn’t help but smile and sigh. It was so peaceful out…you could almost stay here forever.

Then something softly broke the surface of the water. It was in the distance, so you had to squint to make it out. It…it looked like a person. Someone was swimming at this hour? Well, you couldn’t exactly blame them - it was a beautiful night. Still, what if something happened? There would be no one around to help.

You walked closer to the shoreline, the waves gently licking at your ankles as you peered out to sea. It wasn’t too hard to see in the dark, as the moon brightened the way, yet you couldn’t make out too many features of the person. Was it someone you knew? Their back was to you, so it was hard to tell. By the time you finally made out their features, you were almost knee-deep in sea water. Their skin was black from what you could see, though it seemed to fade into a pale purplish white color towards the front. Their hair matched that faded color…a merman?

From the way the person’s skin seemed to shimmer in the moonlight, unlike any other being’s would, you supposed you were correct. Okay, so they were likely more adept to the water than anyone. There was less danger for them - still, you couldn’t help but be curious.

“Hello?” you called out.

The merman abruptly turned to look in your direction, their expression panicked. That face - you knew that face.

“Azul?”

The man did not even reply as he quickly retreated beneath the waves.

“Hey, wait!” You quickly threw your jacket onto the shore before you waded further into the water. “Wait, Azul! I’m not going to tell anyone!” You knew of Azul’s secret - his insecurities concerning his octopus form. No wonder he’d gone and hidden himself. Even if he knew it was you, his friend, he would still shy away in a mix of shame and fear.

By the time you swam out to where Azul had been, it seemed he was already gone. You couldn’t feel anyone around you - couldn’t see anyone either, for the limited vision you had underwater. Honestly, it was a little…unnerving, how dark the waters were below. You shivered as you resurfaced and tried to shake off the unease. To think of what could be under there besides Azul…you suddenly felt the need to flee. You barely recognized your own voice as you screamed, feeling something slide past your leg. Before you could scramble back to the sand, a voice spoke softly from behind you.

“You shouldn’t be out here.” Startled, you quickly turned around. There, just above the waterline, was Azul. His head peeked up at you, water barely above the surface. It was a little odd to see him without his glasses - but that didn’t make his eyes any less pretty. “You could catch a cold.”

“Oh, yeah…” You suddenly felt very silly. Hadn’t you yourself thought of how dangerous it was for someone to be in the sea so late at night? As you tried to suppress the blush rising to your cheeks, you spoke up again. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I thought it was just strange to find someone else out here so late.”

“And what are you doing out here?” Azul asked, head tilted to the side.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrugged. “I thought a late night walk on the beach might help soothe me.”

Azul nodded and released a small ‘mmn’ noise in understanding. “I suppose I can relate to the feeling.”

You simply stared at each other for a moment. Azul slowly grew shy again, half his face dipped beneath the water once more. Your brow furrowed as he began to retreat again. “Azul…you know I don’t find you ugly, right? In this form and otherwise?”

“I…” Azul glanced to the side, away from your gaze. “Y-You’re just saying that because we’re friends.”

“I’m not!” Your protest came out a bit louder than you intended it to, it now being your turn to startle the merman. “S-Sorry, I just…you look great, Azul. I mean that. Whether human or octopus, I think…” You were embarrassed, but you let the words flow freely from your lips. “...I think you’re beautiful.”

Was it the moon that made Azul’s eyes sparkle like that? You were pretty sure…still, he looked truly taken aback, happy, by your answer. His gaze flicked to the water, then to you, then back to the water again. He seemed to fight with himself for a moment, contemplating. Then, slowly, he rose further from the water. You couldn’t see his tentacles, but you could see his whole upper body now. The luminescent dots that decorated his arms gave off a soft purple glow - very pretty.

“You’re…you like me like this?” Azul gestured down at himself, expression one of disbelief.

You couldn’t help but smile as you nodded. “Yes, I do. I always thought you were good looking, Azul.”

You didn’t mean for that to come out. A dark blush dusted both your cheeks now, Azul’s ghosting the tips of his ears. Once again, the two of you sat in silence; this time, it was Azul who finally broke it.

“I…thank you, [Y/n].” It wasn’t often he called you by name. You felt a fuzzy feeling warm your chest the moment it left his lips. “I’m happy you see me in such a way.”

His smile was contagious. It wasn’t like the smug, cunning one he often wore: it was soft, heartfelt, flattered…loving, even. You couldn’t help but show the same in your own expression. Even with this tender moment between you two, Azul could only take so much embarrassment. So, like you before, he changed the subject.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?”

“No idea,” you replied. “I guess my body just didn’t want to let me.”

That plotting smile of his finally surfaced on his face. Oh no… “Well, you know you can come to me, should you ever find the reason. I will be happy to assist you however I can.”

“Oh, I’m sure you would,” you scoffed, though you smiled through your eye roll. “I wonder what you’d drag me into in return.”

“Nothing malicious, I assure you.” Azul placed his hand over his heart. “I swear on my name that no harm would come to you.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed with an amused lilt.

Even though Azul played like he was plotting your demise (you hoped he was joking), it was a very nice night. You made the right choice, you thought, coming out here.

The two pairs of heterochromic eyes that watched you from behind a rock would agree.

#Twisted Wonderland: Beach Episode Mini Series #twisted wonderland #twst #my work #twst azul #azul ashengrotto #gender neutral reader #twst x reader

198 notes · View notes

zodiac-senpai · 7 months

Text

Bisexual Kirito hints from the Light Novel:

"Klein held his curved sword at mid-level as his handsome features crumbled into a pathetic grimace beneath the tasteless bandanna." - Kirito's thoughts in Volume 1 (Aincrad) ~~~~ “Hey, Kirito! Turns out you look pretty cute after all! Just my type!” I grimaced and called back over my shoulder. “And you look ten times better now that you’re a mountain bandit!” - Klein and Kirito in Volume 1 (Aincrad) ~~~~ “All right, let’s go. Besides, I’d rather not wait to see you blubbering with fear.”

“On the contrary, try not to have your mind blown by my graceful sword work.” We turned our faces away from each other with simultaneous huffs. But for some reason, our constant trading of insults was starting to excite me…" - Kirito's degradation kink in Volume 2 (Aincrad) ~~~~ “Hang on, I’ve got this.” He winked at Leafa. “Now, we’ve got a deal to discuss.” Kirito pulled up a trade window and pointed out a list of items to the man. “Here’s all the items and yrd I earned from this fight. If you answer the simple questions we have for you, I might just give you all of this loot. How about that?” The man opened and closed his mouth several times, staring at Kirito’s bright smile. He glanced around the vicinity—probably checking to confirm that the period of resurrection for all the other salamanders had expired, and they’d been teleported back to their save point far from here—before looking back at Kirito. “…Seriously?” “Dead serious.” They traded devious smirks, and Leafa sighed to herself. “Men…” - Kirito and an ALO player in Volume 3 (Fairy Dance)

~~~~

"He looked to be my age—about seventeen or eighteen. His ash-brown hair had just a hint of waviness. Like me, he wore a simple tunic and trousers. He was sitting on a root like a bench, holding something round in his right hand. The odd part was his appearance. His skin was cream-colored, but he appeared neither fully Western nor Eastern. His features were fine and gentle, and his eyes looked dark green. The moment I saw his face, something deep in my head itched again… deep in my soul. But the instant I tried to seize the feeling, it vanished." - Kirito meeting Eugeo for the "first time" in Volume 9 (Alicization)

~~~~

"His grip was much firmer than his skinny build would suggest." - Kirito commenting on Eugeo's physique in Volume 9 (Alicization)

~~~~

Something powerful welled up in my chest, and I had to fight it down to maintain control. I grinned and told him, “All right. I’ll teach you everything I know. But the training will be harsh.” I let my smile turn impish and held out a hand. Eugeo’s mouth softened at last, and he clasped it.

“That’s just what I’m hoping for. In fact…it really is what I’ve wanted… for ever and ever.” His head dipped again, and a few clear drops fell, catching the sunlight. He stepped forward before I could even register surprise and thudded his forehead against my shoulder. I felt his whisper through my body more than heard it. “I just…figured it out. I’ve been waiting for you, Kirito. Waiting here in the forest for six long years for you to come…” “…Yeah.”

My own voice was barely audible. I reached around and thumped him lightly on the back with my left hand, still holding the sword in it. “I’m pretty sure that I woke in this forest…in order to meet you, Eugeo.” I hardly even recognized that I had said the words, but I was certain they were the truth. - YujiKiri moment in Volume 9 (Alicization)

~~~~

"As I lightly patted his not-too-muscular yet nonetheless well-built shoulders while reminiscing on today's events——" - 32/33 If novel - (If We Could Walk Together) (Part 2)

~~~~

"Chasing after my partner's well-toned back as he headed up the passageway, I made up my mind: Whenever I become a high-ranked knight, I'm so moving into the floor just below this one…" - 32/33 If novel - (If We Could Walk Together) (Part 3)

~~~~

“You’re late, Kirito!” Naturally, that came from a boy—if you could still call him that—with flaxen blond hair, sitting on the bed second from the end on the right. My partner, Eugeo. He stood up and put his hands on his hips. He’d grown an inch or two since we’d first met two years ago and was more firmly built now. It only made sense, as he would be nineteen this year. Yet his gentle features and sparkling green eyes hadn’t changed a bit. - Kirito's growing muscle kink in Volume 10 (Alicization)

~~~~

Eugeo whimpered, then clamped his mouth shut.

But Kirito smirked and boasted, “Have no fear, young man. Big Bro will never abandon you.” - Kirito "teasing" Eugeo in Volume 11 (Alicization)

~~~~

He scrunched up his face and looked down at the ground, so I moved toward him and ruffled his flaxen hair. “You’re such a worrywart. I told you —whether my memory comes back or not, I’m going along on your journey to the end.”

Eugeo raised his reddened faced and protested, “Don’t treat me like a child.” But he didn’t try to brush away my hand. “I’m…I’m not doubting your word. You’ve said that over and over. But…when I started thinking about how our journey might be coming to an end, it just…”

His voice was tense and thick with emotion, and I started to feel something rising within my own chest. I looked up, hand still on Eugeo’s head. - Kirito "reassuring" Eugeo in Volume 11 (Alicization)

~~~~

“Sadly, this is not for children like you…especially not criminal children. It’s a hundred-and-fifty-year vintage from the Western Empire. I might let you sample its bouquet, though.”

He grinned, swiveling the glass in his fingers. Even in the starlight, he was shockingly handsome. The combination of his prominent, thin-bridged nose and slightly wild eyebrows had a profound balance, and his long, sharp eyes glinted with intelligence. Eugeo and I were both shocked into silence. The knight uncrossed his legs and stood up, his armor faintly ringing. He was very tall—at least a head taller than me. His deep-violet cape and pale-purple hair both flowed in the night breeze. - Kirito describing Eldrie upon him and Eugeo meeting him for the first time in Volume 11 (Alicization)

~~~~

"Now that I thought about it, in the two years since I’d met him near Rulid, there had never been a situation in which I couldn’t see him immediately if I wanted—until right now. We slept outdoors on our long journey to Centoria, complained about sharing a cramped inn floor, and even shared dorm rooms the entire time we were at Swordcraft Academy. It was simply a given that we were always together, and although I didn’t always think about him, I felt oddly lonely now that we were apart. No—it wasn’t that simple. Here in the Underworld, the ultimate virtual realm, I’d finally found the very first person of my gender that I could truly call a best friend. It was a bit embarrassing to admit, but that was the plain truth of it." - Kirito realizing how important Eugeo is to him, if not MORE than Asuna, in Volume 13 (Alicization)

~~~~

Like sand sucking up water, Eugeo had absorbed all the combat strategies I’d built up over the last few years, which I grandiosely called the Aincrad style. I couldn’t help but feel a strangely deep joy and satisfaction in his progress. This swordplay had been the source of my personal pride, and yet nothing more than gaming techniques—and it felt like Eugeo learning and making them his own had turned that skill into something real for the first time. If I could solve all the problems afflicting the Underworld and escape safely with Eugeo’s fluctlight intact, I wanted to have him dive into ALfheim Online instead—I was certain that the lightcube was capable of interfacing with all Seed-based VR worlds equally—so that he could meet Asuna, Leafa, Klein, and all the others. Here’s my first pupil, and best friend, I’d say to them.

I couldn’t wait for that moment to arrive. At that point, for the very first time, I’d finally be on the same level as the many people who supported and helped me…

��What are you grinning about?” I blinked, startled out of my reverie by the sound of a voice to my right. I turned to see Alice, who was watching me with an unpleasant look. I quickly brought up a hand to rub at the corner of my mouth as I protested. “Er, I was just…thinking about some stuff ahead…” - Kirito "thinking" of Eugeo in Volume 13 (Alicization)

~~~~

“………Eugeo………” The name left my mouth as barely more than a moan.

I would never mistake him for anyone else. He was my partner and my best friend; we’d been inseparable since our meeting in the forest two years ago. The only thing that kept me going for so long in this alternate world was Eugeo’s presence at my side. I would never, ever see his features in someone else’s face by accident. - Kirito's reaction to Integrity Knight Eugeo in Volume 13 (Alicization)

~~~~~

Eugeo’s muscled body, the translucent blade of the Blue Rose Sword, and the crystal prism formed one straight line. - Volume 14 (Alicization)

~~~~

Eugeo’s eyelids were just barely lifted. He was smiling. His face was paler than the moonlight itself, and his lips were totally bloodless. It was obvious that his life was continuing to drain away. But his green eyes were the same as when I first met him, gentle and warm and bright. - Kirito gazing gayly at Eugeo even as he 🥹 in Volume 14 (Alicization)

~~~~

“Kirito, did you…did you just hear that…?” “Hear what…? Oh, about the yummy-nummy milk? You’ve really taken to fatherhood, haven’t you? Ha-ha-ha.” “Don’t you ‘ha-ha-ha’ me! Now that you’ve heard that, I can’t let you leave unharmed. I’ve gotta pound that memory right outta your head!”

“Bring it!” - Kirito and Iskahn in Volume 19 (Moon Cradle)

(Kirito, why are you smiling?)

*Afterward...*

~~~~

"Between the brim of the hat and the folded collar of the jacket, the sun shone on gentle, wavy hair. It was not blond but a darker golden brown. In a word: flaxen. Suddenly, my heart began racing without reason. My breathing quickened and became shallower; my fingertips went cold and numb. Awkwardly, I craned my neck to the right, capturing the entirety of the commander in my sight. If he was a man, he was neither skinny nor bulky. If either, he was on the slender side, similar to my figure. But even through the thick coat, I could tell his muscles were well honed. I wanted to reach out and feel his shoulder to see how hardy it was. In fact, I wanted to rip off his mask, pull those collars apart, and——" - Kirito meeting Eolyne for the first time in Volume 24 (Unital Ring)

#bisexual kirito supremacy #and people say he's straight lol #you can date a girl AND be into guys: that's literally what bisexual means lol #kirito #kazuto kirigaya #eugeo #eolyne #klein #sword art online #sao #sao light novel #cakeverse #sao alicization #bishonen #pretty boy #pretty boi #yujikiri #kiriyuji #kirikahn

143 notes · View notes