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#at them! like what do you MEAN there aren't any fics like that what do you MEAN that's unpopular i— 😭❓
theminecraftbee · 2 days
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Just out of curiosity, do you know any alternative ways of showing types of relationships that could be used on ao3? I find the & and / method to be very constraining, especially with ambiguous or multi-dimensional relationships. & for platonic and / for romantic does not allow for a proper representation of nonstandard relationships, for example an enemy/loathing or polyamorous relationship. (Homestuck quadrants are their own thing and are not what I am asking for/about.)
answer that answers your question:
yes and no. if you just want another category of markers to exist, i know you said no homestuck quadrants, but those are probably most commonly used, although they're all synned to the / tag. i've seen some exchanges that want to differentiate use /& together, i've seen ? be used, and i've seen some invent their own tag (largely exchanges use these for matching purposes and it's rare but i HAVE seen it). however, there's no unifying convention, and ao3 will eventually syn all of these to either the / or & tag (usually the / unless the wranglers have a very good reason to think it's the & tbh). so know that even if you use your own symbol, it will show up in the relationship tag it ends up synned to.
one of the most common solutions to this is to use the symbol closest to what you want--personally i tend to just use the & unless there's fic content i think gen fans would really hate, since & is the tag that covers the much wider spectrum of relationships in my head, although some people will differ--and use freeform tags to disambiguate. for example, last days has the & tag for joe and cleo, along with a "queerplatonic relationships" tag! i believe "ambiguous relationships" is also a canonical tag, and you don't have to use canonicals if you can't find the one you like! the world is your oyster.
(here i'll also note: the & doesn't require them be like... friends. it just requires the fic be about their relationship in some way, and for this relationship to not be romantic or sexual. enemies is absolutely covered here, as is like, weird coworkers, or even tags like "hero & the public".)
(similarly, the / tag doesn't require they like each other, it just requires it to be a "ship"; enemies who have a ton of sexual tension goes under this, as do things like abusive romantic or sexual relationships; just make sure you're using your warnings and additional tags appropriately!)
the other most common solution is to tag both the / and & tag and use a tag like the "ambiguous relationships" or "this can be read as either" or "queerplatonic relationships" or whatever other disambiguating tag you think it needs. this is less common in the mcyt fandom because of the mcyt fandom's history of being SUPER WEIRD about shipping, but it's often the most common solution in fandoms that aren't this one.
"i want ao3 to have a ship tag that is neither & nor /, and is not considered synonymous with either" unfortunately this doesn't exist and isn't going to. like i'd love to say there's a way to make it exist but it Won't because of how ao3 was designed to work on a backend level and also ao3 does NOT change quickly, for better or for worse. you're going to have to pick between "make up a symbol and it will probably be synned to /", "use the tag you think you like best", or "use both". i wish there was another option too, if it helps, but the additional tags are really useful here!
"use no relationship tag" is also always an option; the relationship tag is not a required tag!
answer that answers your two examples, neither of which really fit the question as i understand it, hence me separating them out:
a fic about the relationship between two enemies is either the & tag if you just want the one that is actually meant to be used or the / tag if you mean for it to be like, the kind of enemies that have sexual tension. use additional tags to additionally disambiguate (example: just put in the tags the canonical tag "enemies" and you're good to go). the & tag is for ANY kind of platonic relationship, it does not require the two characters like each other, only that the fic is about their relationship! you can use the homestuck <3< if you REALLY wanna make it clear but that's synned to /, so like, up to you. if you're super worried someone will misunderstand the & tag you can also just not tag a relationship, relationships aren't mandatory tags.
i have no idea why you're asking about polyamory because that has a solution that's entirely unrelated to the problem you propose: you just tag the ship. ship tags with more than two names in them are legal tags, as long as it doesn't go over ao3's tag character limit you're good. if you do hit the limit, just use more than one tag! this is totally fine and follows ao3 conventions, don't worry. if it's the kind of polyamorous relationship with metamours, where not everyone is dating everyone, this is where more than one overlapping relationship tag REALLY helps. plus: you can mix / and & tags! not all of them will be canonical yet, but that's true of ANY ship tag you're originating! i have seen the form of "character/character & character" in many fandoms before, it's totally valid and will disambiguate! (also, the ensemble tags may help you here if you're doing like, a polyhermits thing; "hermitcraft ensemble/hermitcraft ensemble" is a legal tag and i think what polyhermits is probably synned to.)
so yeah, hopefully this helps some! good luck out there!
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lokideservesahug · 2 days
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Against All Odds
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Pairing: Sergio 'Checo' Pérez x wife!reader
Warnings: Mentions of crashes, children, swearing, slightly suggestive towards the end.
Notes: I'm not the most confident with this but I really hope I did this request some justice...
Request: Could you do fic for Checo Perez with wife reader? It was when he was at Racing Point when he won his first race at the 2020 Sakhir GP. She was worried when there was a crash and he was involved. But she was quickly assured that he was fine. He wanted to win that race for his wife and their children. So, he decides to fight his way through. Just something for his first win. You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :)))
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Summary: What happens after a driver crashes? They retire right? Well a certain Mexican driver may have a different agenda to the average pilot...
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You had never understood people when they said that their heart stop but when you saw on the big screen the racing point car hit the wall, you sure felt it. It was an accident, sure you know that but when the Renault behind him knocks his back end, you can't help but feel a brief moment of restatement towards the Frenchman that hit your husband. Your thoughts are still working in overdrive when you hear a few mumbles about lack of response. Shit. Checo hasn't responded yet. You squeeze your sons shoulder ad he grabs your leg, clearly worried about his father.
You just stare at the screen, waiting. Hoping. Praying. You can't even feel yourself breathe until... "I'm ok" the grunt of your husband made the entire mood of the garage shifts to be slightly less sombre. You can't even focus on your surroundings but when you see your husband pull back onto the track you grow slightly confused. "He's continuing?" You turn to the nearest crew member you can find. He nods his head and says something about Checo insisting on continuing to race and you can't help but smile and be proud if the sheer drive (no pun intended) of your lover.
He makes some truly amazing overtakes after the crash. And when Checo begins to come closer and closer to George you can feel yourself become short of breath for the second time today. The 63rd lap comes and goes but on the 64th lap, he completes the most glorious overtake (at least to you) and begins to lead the race. You can't stop yourself from smiling as everyone else in the garage jumps and cheers at his current P1 standing. You all continue watching on the edges of your setas as the laps race by. 70. 75. 80. 85. And by the time it reaches the 86th lap, the atmosphere in the motor point garage is buzzing. Nothing is for certain yet and anything can happen in a sport as unpredictable as Formula 1 you all know that but with Checo strongly keeping his lead for the past 22 laps and with Estaban being quite a bit behind, you're very confident in Checo's ability to keep his lead for the last lap.
You feel like electric with how much excitement you are feeling from those around you and also from your own excitement. You can't help but wonder how your children are reacting to the current predicament. Yes they are Young but that doenst mean they aren't their father's #1 supporters. They've only just become old enough to actualy form their own opinions about F1 and you can't even begin to explain your husbands excitement when they decided to support their father (even when you gave them a choice to support any driver they wanted). You turn to look at them (your son having gone to sit down next to his sister a few laps ago) only to see your son and daughter staying staying the screen in awe, with big smiles on their faces. You take a photo to show to your husband later.
And you don't even register Sergio Cross the finish line before you are being hugged by someone and then pulled to hug another person. The excitement is overwhelming and a huge grin splits open your mouth when you relapse what has just happened. Checo has won. For the first time ever, he's come out victorious. He ended lap 1 in last place, got crashed into earlier and still managed to win. Holy shit, this is unrealistic. The somehow rowdy garage manages to silence itself when your hisbands voice filters over the team radio but as you hear your husband speak his mither tongue and request that your son is watching. You can help but tear up at the sudden reality of the situation. He's really has done it.
You run out to the pit wall with the mechanics to congratulate the race winner and when he catches sight of you, he runs towards you and pulls you into his arms. The sheer happiness radiating from every direction causes him to well up and you just look at him and can't help yourself from crying. He just continues to hold you as the mechanics surround you and continue to hug and cheer for him. Your children run out, aided by a few crew members and Checo just scoops them into his arms and holds you all closely in a large family hug. You can near a few sniffles as he places his head on your shoulder but you don't have time time comment on it before he is being taken away to go to the podium.
You're at the front of the barriers with your son on your shoulders and your daughter in her little SP11 cap and pink ear defenders (which make her way too adorable) in your arms. The applause is almost overwhelming but when Checo come sout and stands on the top step, you let a few tears fall at the same time as your husband as he looks up to the sky. The Mexican national anthem fills your ears and you can help but grip your children slightly tighter to stabilise yourself and assure both them and you that this moment is real.
☆-☆-☆-☆-☆
Unsurprisingly, there are many post race celebrations especially for his maiden win. But when your husband returns to your hotel room and changes into his pajamas. You can't help but feel like this is one of your favourite moments of the day. Your husband sat on the bed with your two children sat next to them as he reads them a book before bed. Your daughter falls asleep with her head resting on her fathers bicep and you take a photo of the cute moment and csopp her up, putting her in the room adjacent to yours. Your son grabs his fathers hand and demands that the current champion pays him to bed which causes the both of you to smile. You gently shut the door when you turn to your husband. "Why did you do it?" "Hm?" He turns and looks at you curiously, surprised that you didn't follow him straight to the large ning sized bed. "Do what mi amor?" You settle next to him in bed and he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you until your he'd is lying on his chest. "Retire after the crash." There's a brief moment of silence but clearly bot one of thought as he confidently replies "Because I ahd to for it for you all. I knew I could do it and I wanted to show to you, mis tres amores that you mean the world to me." You can't even begin to think of a response so yo just look u at him and softly bed your lips over his. He muemers in appreciation of your gesture but before he can deepen the kiss, you pull away. "As much as I would love to celebrate tonight, you deserve to rest Mr Champion" He grins at the title but pouts at the former words. "Not even a quick one?" You turn away from him. "No. Your rest is more important." You hear the rustling of sheets behind you and feel his arm wrap around your waist. "Are you sure I can't convince you sweetheart? Oh and who are you to deprive the champion of his reward?
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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed.
As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!
Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @minkyungseokie
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supercalime · 3 days
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hellooo, fellow bucktommy shipper (and casual b*ddie enjoyer, if it weren't for the horrors...) here! i really liked your take on b*ddie st*ns and how they are now making super wild assumptions based on some latest interviews.
you know one thing that irks me? somehow nobody seems to talk about is the fact that in canon, buck isn't written to be in love with eddie at all. like, can we please talk about this??? because I'm all for Death Of The Author. OS can talk about ships all he wants but in the end, only the canon narrative matters to me personally. i've watched long-form content with endgame couples being set up in the pilot episodes who become canon many seasons later (bones, castle, grey's anatomy, the mentalist, etc.), and the entire point of such couples is to establish that, yes, they have been having romantic feelings all this time since day one. they do so very very obviously. there is zero subtlety or room for questioning.
one of the most common tropes is to give one or both characters (of the endgame couple) another love interest so that the endgame couple can be full of jealousy and pettiness every time that other love interest is mentioned or shown. having another love interests always endangers the original closeness of the endgame couple, and then the breakup propels the endgame couple forward in their relationship. the love interest is always used for comparisons, to make it abundantly clear that everybody else is lacking in some way. at no point in 911 did they do so with buck and eddie??? these dudes go through various romantic relationships, and never ever has it been any issue to the b*ddie dynamic. never was it talked about. never were hints dropped that one of them is jealous. even now, with bucktommy, eddie shows not a single ounce of jealously. on the other side, look at how they showed us buck being obviously jealous because eddie monopolized tommy's time even though buck wanted tommy time himself! buck couldn't stand the jealousy even a little bit, and he ended up literally hurting his bestie because of it. but whenever eddie is involved romantically and sexually with someone, there are zero signs that buck is bothered or threatened or jealous. they both seem super chill? they do not question at any point that them dating other people might hurt their relationship? logically, that must mean buck's never wanted to be romantically or sexually involved with eddie (and vice versa). at it's core, b*ddie has been written as a friendship. to this day, we have no canon proof for anything else.
i would not hate b*ddie to happen or anything. i do enjoy b*ddie fics (those that aren't super misogynist ♥). and i think it could be a great couple if done well! but as you said, even when buck thought eddie was hot... well, so what? that's literally just an objective observation. RG is handsome based on societal standards. chim and hen also immediately acknowledged that eddie was hot in 2x01, and both of them are Not At All romantically or sexually attracted to eddie either. nobody is questioning chim's or hen's sexuality based on the comments they made about eddie being hot. because nothing about this equals real romantic feelings or the desire to be in a relationship. the fandom understands that logic just fine with chim and hen. why not with buck, though? also, we have yet to see a reversed moment for eddie staring at buck and finding him hot. they had no problem to show eddie Immediately having a crush on ana flores when he first met her. this shows that eddie feels sexual attraction just fine. he was, however, never shown in canon to feel it for buck.
also interesting: even though buck found eddie hot when they first met, it did not trigger buck to seriously question his sexuality at any point in the past like, 5 years or so. in all those years of canon b*ddie friendship, the show has never used the plethora of opportunities to propel b*ddie into romantic or sexual territory. the show could have! but the show never did, so i refuse to let b*ddie st*ns or OS retcon this. if it's not in the canon material, it isn't canon. with tommy, it took only a couple of weeks and a handful of interactions for buck to reach a point of clarity about his sexuality. the most logical deduction imo is that buck simply clocked that eddie's hot (like everybody else, duh, he isn't special in that regard), and it's never meant anything deep.
my only real probem with this entire situation is how hardcore b*ddie st*ns are now using this as a justification to harass others even more (especially bucktommy shippers). i'd love to enjoy canon bucktommy and fanon b*ddie in peace! but the hate that b*ddie st*ns are spreading everywhere again (like with every new season and newly introduced love interest) is so overwhelming.
sorry for the long ass rant btw oopsie. feel free to ignore this. i just wanted to let it out and it seemed like you would understand. anyway, thanks for reading in case you got this far!
I’d never ignore a sensible take, anon! (I feel bad that you had to go anon but I understand. We know the drill by now, some stans are scary lol)
But like, ALL OF THIS!!!
Discourse like this is what takes away the enjoyment of media for me. It sucks that fandom experience can have two very extreme opposing sides, specially when it comes to two “competing” ships. You can kinda tell by how bucktommy shippers behave (I’m not trying to flex at all because I am one. A good majority of us has zero problem with b*ddie endgame even though we prefer the other. We like what we are getting and are happy to see this storyline play out) compared to b*ddie shippers (of course not all of them, I’m talking about the entitled ones. That clog comment sections, bother actors, go to the other ships tag to complain about it and say how their preferred ship is better, etc).
Im not immune to bad takes and bad fan behavior. Ive surely acted like these stans in other fandoms and i do regret it, so i hate seeing it happen again and again, no matter where i go.
Not to quote mean girls, but I wish we could all get along…
All that being said, whichever ship “wins”, it’s no one’s call but the writers and producers of the show. Someone told me that Tim writes for himself and doesn’t take outside factors (at least to an extent cause it’s impossible to not know the fan reaction) into consideration when it comes to where he wants the story to go.
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olderthannetfic · 19 hours
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I just got a comment saying I should have tagged for dom/sub undertones and I'm a little confused. In canon, this guy always bosses his wife around re: doing shit that's healthy for her - napping, drinking water, remembering to eat more than once a day, getting more than 3 hours of sleep - and she lovingly calls him "Boss Man" as a nickname because of it. On some occasions where she's gone more than a day without eating he'll swipe her phone and order her to eat before she gets it back, something she always seems to find endearing. There's a lot of 'I didn't mean to worry you', 'you're worth worrying about, now here's your favorite homemade walnut bread' stuff, all there in canon, just lifted from canon and transplanted into my fic.
Is this dom/sub stuff? I'm aroace so I've never been in a relationship, but I assumed "take care of yourself" "I will but I will call you a silly nickname over it" was regular relationship stuff. Or is it that the frequency of it makes it dom/sub stuff, and I'm just not grasping that because my neurodivergency is making me not read the social cues correctly? I was only recently diagnosed but this has been a problem for a long time, the whole line between normal and abnormal behavior, so I thought I'd ask you. You're much more well-read than I am and know a lot more about shipping dynamics and how they're tagged. I feel like you're an expert whose opinion carries a lot of conclusions-informed-by-knowledge and so your take could help me figure this out.
People who are doms or subs or write them, if you have a guide on this stuff, that'd be cool, too. I want to educate myself more so I know if I should tag something. After all, I can't get my story to people who want to read it if it doesn't show up in the tags they're searching for. Readers aren't mindreaders. It's on me to make sure they can get ahold of the things they're looking for. I just need to work around my own ADHD-addled brain to do it.
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I think this is the usual pattern of demanding silly tags that would only make sense in that reader's own bookmarks.
Yes, caretaking and food control of various kinds can be a part of BDSM. No, your description of canon does not make it sound like this has obvious undertones.
Readers are going to have different interpretations. It's possible that other readers would agree with this one. I have my doubts. I suspect they're projecting. But sure, maybe other people would think there was some of that vibe.
However, if you did not intend the fic to read this way, I would not add the tag. This is not what the fic is about.
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As for what this kind of thing can look like when it is intended as a dom/sub activity, the movie Secretary has a bunch of examples. She calls him on the phone to tell him what her family's dinner looks like that night; he gives her instructions about which things she can eat how much of. The way she acts while making that phone call makes it clear it's an exciting game to her. Another time, he tells her she's not allowed to cut herself anymore: he will provide what she needs.
Even if the characters are being playful, just nagging someone to do basic self care doesn't really come across as this. It's more charged when it's an intentional power exchange thing.
It's more like... hmm... if you and a friend agreed to LARP as characters for a day. Even if you were acting fairly normal and doing things you'd often do anyway, there would be this added extra vibe to it that someone who knew you well could probably detect.
It's not so much about the specific behaviors: it's about the extra meaning those people ascribe to them. If it doesn't seem like the canon characters think of this caretaking any specific way and you, as the fic author, don't see it that way, then I don't think it will generally read as a dom/sub thing to most readers.
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khuzena · 2 hours
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Waiting room
Pairing: Dr ratio, Aventurine, Sunday x g/n!reader
Summary: You can love, get on your knees and wait on a miracle. There are things that are for you and aren't for you, you should know. It's for the better.
Cw. Heavy angst, no comfort, 1% fluff, manipulative men, toxic relationships, insecurities, death?, unrequited love, breakups, them neglecting you cos…, no closure, what is love?
A/n: hi, time to make you cry. I'm getting writer's block as I'm making a new novel!! It has the ‘your guardian angel’ fics plot but w my characters. 🥳
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Dr ratio
He's a simple man, really.
Drown yourself in endless textbooks, advanced literature and neglect every other thing.
Like his thirst for knowledge; love is endless, affection is abundant.
Is what you initially thought.
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It has been the 4th time this week that he turned down your requests, “Dear, you know I have no time for that.”
He does not try to sugarcoat his words, he does not try to make his tone less harsh, “I don't have time for dates, such a waste of time.'' He says it like it is, he says it like it's true.
Your eyebrows creased, annoyed at his flippant attitude, “What do you mean waste of time?”
Veritas takes one glance at you, then back to his nonsense book. To him, it was useless wasting his breath on arguing with you.
“Veritas, you said we'll go, you promised.”
He is cruel, his words flinty. “I do not recall making any atrocious promises to you, are you perhaps going insane?”
Insane?
“Insane? Last week, you promised me.”
“I did not.”
“Yes you did.”
He scoffs, as if offended, “If I did, then I was not thinking straight. I have a thesis due tomorrow. A date can wait.”
Veritas is a man with priorities and out of all of them, it seems, you were not one of them. He'd rather his books kept him company, not you. It's obvious, his pursuit of knowledge was greater than loving you.
He lit his lamp, taking his pen and highlighting some paragraphs, what was so important with them? You could not help but come closer, skimming through the contents, it was just some theory some genius society member wrote.
“You're miserable,” it might've accidentally slipped out, but it was true; he is, in fact, the most miserable of all men.
Veritas rolled his eyes, pushing his reading glasses and annotating whatever statement was written. The candle light flickered when his heavy breaths fanned over it, not paying mind to whatever you say.
Your patience was thinning, how long was he planning to play this damned game?
“Veritas.”
You call out once.
“Veritas!”
Again, in anger.
“Veritas”
The last time, desperately.
He does not respond, he does not care. Yet your voice was ringing in his ears in an unpleasant way, “Is this about the date?”
You were taken aback by his curt reply, it wasn't just about the date. “Is that all? Do you think that's the only reason?”
“Hypothetically speaking, yes.”
“Cut the bullshit, veritas.”
Veritas glares at you, as if making a statement; a bullshit one at that. He does not have time for mindless topics, he's overworked, he's tired, he's unsatisfied.
For a moment, you have the urge to yell at him. This shallow bastard has done nothing but fool you with aureate words, he writes poetry about you and shows you off.
He loves you because you are all he has. He may be an asshole but he loves you the way he knows how to love you.
Tonight, however, you are done with his bullshit. You do not argue further, he is confused. When you leave this room with no more qualms, when you do not scream at him, he is bewildered.
“Where are you going?” It's strange that he noticed you for the first time. Only when you get dressed up and when he hears the keys jingle, does he notice every single detail.
You adjusted the cuffs of your blouser, “I'm staying at a friend's”
“Which one?”
“None of your business.”
Stunned, he drops his pen. Why are you acting so off? You're driving him insane.
“What do you mean none of my business? Stop acting so childish.”
That was your last straw, childish? Childish? The fucking audacity.
“You are more childish.”
“How so?”
“You— do I even have to explain it?”
Nothing could quell your frustration other than being away from him for the meantime, “Yes,” he loves you, he wants to know. But even if he does, he never learns; so much for a genius.
“You neglect me, you prioritise this,” it was tempting to crumple his papers, “—over me.” So you did.
He is indifferent. He does not understand how and why it hurts you. So he tries to understand it from a logical standpoint, “So you want to really go on that date?”
“I'm tired of asking”
Tired of begging him to treat you right, to love you like you want him to love you.
He stays quiet.
“I'm tired of begging for something so small.”
“You didn't have to destroy my goddamn book,” he seethed and pulled the book from your hands, too absorbed in the damage of the book he does not notice how much he has damaged you. Veritas is too blind to see you holding back tears despite wearing his glasses.
The force surprised you, “Is that thing much more important?”
“What?”
“Answer me Veritas Ratio.”
It was merely just a book, but it was precious. It was a rare one, it annoyed him to immeasurable depths when you crumpled it so recklessly.
He does not answer.
“I'm leaving,” he's not sure if leaving meant temporarily, he hopes it is. He hopes you come back again tomorrow night.
So he waits. Tomorrow came, but you did not come home.
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Aventurine
He loves you, he really does.
His idea of love is adorning you with jewels, showering you with riches.
Too much that you suffocate, it hurts. You can't breathe, soulless eyes stare into yours.
It's when you realise, he's trapping you. Does he think you're stupid? What does he take you for?
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“Darling! I got you a gift!”
The 22nd one this week… Aventurine makes haste and runs behind you, wearing the necklace on you, it looks… okay.
You look like a doll, his doll.
But you are not a doll, you are human.
And like all humans, we all wish to be loved and cherished as an equal.
“Do you like it?” It would be rude to say no, but it does not fit you. Sure it accentuates your neck, but it's too much.
“I…” you traced your finger over the gem, “I do.”
“Great! I'll get you another tomorrow!” It is tiring. As much as planets worth of gold and extravagant jewels excite you, you would rather be in his presence.
You do not recall the last day he's ever taken you out on a proper date, you do not recall any time where he's been open to you about his past because you know damn well his name could never just be ‘Aventurine’.
You were sitting on the couch, sipping tea with your eyes glued to your book. Before you knew it, soft lips grazed on your cheek.
“You're back earlier than expected,” he smiles as he pressed another kiss onto you, “I ditched the meeting, for you.”
Oh how you hate it when he does things in your name just to make you indebted to him. Aventurine loves you, but love is transactional.
“Is that so?” He nods, wrapping his arms around you. “I'll buy you something again, we have another business trip in Penacony.”
It makes you wonder, does he think gifts are the only thing that'll make you stay?
He could see the reluctance in your eyes, “Is something on your mind?”
You bit your lip, “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
A deafening silence fills the room before he chuckles, he is everything but stupid. He knows, he knows you want to spend time with him, he knows you’d incinerate those gifts in a heartbeat just to trade even an hour spending time with him.
“Dear, I promise, next time,” he pressed light kisses on your exposed shoulder, but it isn’t enough: what truly is enough?
You want to push him away, with how ruthless he is with making empty promises so easily, “You said ‘next time’ last time.”
”I promise, I do.” Even he sounds unsure. You pick up on the hint of hesitation laced in his promises, he regrets it, but he thinks; he’s doing it for you, for the both of you.
“You said that too last month,” you scoff.
He tried to intertwine your fingers together yet to no avail, you rejected him, “Why are you acting up again?”
There’s only so many gifts can buy but he can never purchase the time lost that could’ve been spent in lazy mornings together yet he traded it all for credits. The second attempt, he forces a smile and even pulls a tiny ring for you, that gem you loved so much engraved in the centre. Words cannot express how much you despise these gifts because it was just a pathetic compensation for the neglect.
”Please, next month.” He took your hand in his and put the ring on your ring finger. “Okay?”
You cling to that possibility, to that sliver of hope when he is done with Penacony, he is relieved of his duties and he is finally free. That he no longer has to overcompensate for his absence and shower you with the time he’s lost.
You know next month won’t come, yet you are no different from a fool.
”Okay”
You wait upon endless tomorrows, two months have passed and none of his coworkers have any good news about his well-being. They’re sure he’s dead, but you still wait for that tomorrow where he is home to come.
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Sunday
Love, what truly is love?
Is it when you praise your lover with endless ‘I love you’s?
Is it when you hold their hand and protect them for the impending doom to come?
or rather, is love just a fallacy built on a string of lies?
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Sunday believes that he knows what’s best for you.
Before Sunday, you were allowed to make your own decisions.
Before Sunday, you actually had freedom.
The halovian swears he knows what’s best for you.
He makes sure everything you want or need, you get.
Sunday will kiss your tears away, even if he is the sole reason for them. ”It’s for your own good.” he says.
To strip you of freedom, to shackle you to him like a bird in a cage. His sweet kisses, his love, his everything; they’re all fucking poison. He does not hesitate to drown you in his poison if it means protecting you.
You cry out, “Sunday.” In desperate pleas.
But he will not listen, he’ll pretend he doesn’t hear anything.
He believes that if he gives you the taste of freedom, you’ll find a way to fly away from his grasp– he will not allow it. So he does what he’s best at, keeping you stuck to him.
”What do you want, dear?” He smiles at you like he’s never sinned.
You throw away the pathetic gifts he adorned you with, gold, diamonds and stones you could not name but they are not what you want, “I want to see my friends.”
”They’re no good, trust me.” Your friends once told you that you should go, that he’s toxic, but you were a fool to drown in him.
“What do you know about my friends?” He’s done everything to kill that flame inside of you, that hope that maybe one day you’d escape him and be free once again, you’re a fool, he thinks.
He clicks his tongue as he puts down his newspaper at the coffee table, ”They tried to take you away from me.”
”They did not, you know I would never leave you.” A blatant lie but it's stupid that you take him for a fool that’ll believe your words.
He only chuckles, your attempts to get away from him are futile, it’s pathetic it makes him laugh. “I admire your confidence, but you’re staying here tonight.”
Death has never been more alluring under his influence, but you can not die.
“Please,” you beg again, but he only presses his finger to your lips, “Shh…”
”One day you’ll thank me for taking such good care of you.” He gets down on his knees to kiss the back of your hand, “You’re safe here.”
He gets up to sit right next to you, he doesn’t flinch when you slap his face away when he tries to kiss you. The man only grabs your wrist when you try to push him away again. He kisses you with passion, in love but is it truly love when there is no trust?
There’s no use questioning his intentions, “This is for your own good.”
What good is there when there is no freedom? He thinks beautiful birds should be protected. Even if it meant being trapped in a cage, stripped of any sense of freedom, as long as you're safe, as long as you're here with him, he is content. "Dont give me that look."
Your eyes train on the way he rolls his eyes at your defiance, "Just let me go."
Sunday glares at you, his grip on your wrist tight, you're sure he's about to tear it off. "No."
When will you stop acting like a child?
The halovian is too far down the rabbit hole of self righteousness and his obsession with you that he if he needs to tear you limb by limb to keep you close to him, to keep you from rubbing away, he will do it.
His phone rings, it must be business calls again, Penacony sure is in a state of chaos when it's crumbling down. He lets go off you to take his phone.
"Yes yes... Sunday speaking."
You dont understand what they're murmuring about. All you could register is it's something about his sister.
His facial expression turned grim the more time he spent on the phone. The phone call ends and he puts it down, the life from his face drained but when he sees you, he is relieved.
You are still here with him.
He intertwined your hands together, you can feel anger and despair that he's exuding as he stares at you like a deer in the headlights. "Please, promise me."
"You'll never leave me too."
It doesn't sound like a question, it sounds like a statement.
You'll truly never know what freedom is, for that is only a privilege that you can never have. In his arms you cannot cry, because he'll drown you in his lies again and again.
On the bright side, you are never alone. You will always have Sunday, whether you like it or not.
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Note: bye i got extreme writer's block at Sunday's part I had to take almost a 2 week break bc i rlly have no idea what to write for him oh my god. I absolutely did not give them justice 😥
Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 
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galedekkarios · 4 months
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"there are no fics / rarely any fics where astarion is being loved and treated gently :(" <- me when i lie
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lighthouseborna · 9 months
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the worst someone can do if you suggest a plot they don't like while plotting is. say no. or i guess ghost you but that's still them saying "no" if you think about it. but anyway say your idea when plotting. it is more frustrating to be met with what looks like ambivalence than to toss ideas that don't work around. say the idea, that's what plotting is for. you're trying to find something fun for both of you. "whatever you want!" feels like i've cornered someone into something they don't want, or don't care about, and traps both people in a feeling of obligation.
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actually, no. you know what? i am so sick of this “marinette is just a friend” bs. okay. cool. adrien said she was just a friend a few times. whatever. it’s not that big of a deal and everyone in the mlb fandom like. hyperfixates on that??? idc if it’s a “just a joke” because it’s utterly ridiculous at this point. i have literally seen people go on heated rants about how stupid or clueless adrien was during the umbrella scene because he called mari just a friend. are you kidding me??? y’all are really going to take away that moment for him? he just made like his first ever friend in nino and when he called her a friend, he looked so excited because this boy has only ever had one friend before. of course he’s going to call mari just a friend because he just met her and the only time she’s actually spoken to him outside of the suit at this point is to yell at him like... y’all...
and this is not me hating on mari because i love her so so so much. i just hate how passionate and heated fans get about this. i mean... y’all... adrien didn’t even think mari liked him??? like, in puppeteer two, he is literally upset because he came to the conclusion that mari hates him. also, of course he’s not like in love with or crushing on her when she’s barely spoken actual sentences to him! again, not me hating on mari and her nerves because like i get it, it’s hard. and also this is like adrien’s first time interacting with people as peers, so 1. of course romance is not his main priority 2. he doesn’t understand social cues or situations very well At All which is made abundantly clear in the show 3. i don’t... i don’t think adrien knows what affection is??? i mean, he’s definitely learned some over the course of the show, but he’s used to a neglectful / abusive father, his stoic assistant, his bodyguard who doesn’t really talk like at all, chloé being chloé, and hoards of fans declaring that they’re in love with him, hanging all over him, acting like he’s a shiny thing rather than a person, etc... so like. how is adrien supposed to actually comprehend that mari likes him???
and okay no my last point: so so so sick of the double standard. i have seen countless people rant and rave and scream and shout about how stupid adrien is for not returning mari’s feelings or knowing he has a crush on her and then these same people will turn around and berate chat noir and say things like “gosh ladybug isn’t obligated to return his feelings:/” like... hELLO??? why is ladybug not obligated while adrien is??? it’s ridiculous and disgusting and i’m so so so tired of “just a friend” jokes on tumblr, in art, in fics, in youtube compilations... like... can’t we be normal about this? and i don’t mean normal as in “casually enjoy” i mean normal as in can we stop being so aggressive and harsh and hostile towards literal fourteen year olds my God they’re children they’re allowed to make mistakes and mess up and my God the way y’all talk about lila is disgusting, too like i hate her but i don’t want her tortured and killed??? and the way people characterize the classmates as physically and verbally assaulting mari because of lila??? like... my God they would never??? they would all honestly side with mari chameleon is a bad episode and is poorly written and everyone is out of character please use your critical thinking skills and understand that chat noir is not harassing ladybug anymore than mari may be harassing adrien (aka they are not harassing each other at all my God) and stop insulting and demonizing fourteen year olds so your otp can get together thanks
#i have. feelings.#sorry y'all#this may be harsh but i am so beyond sick of it#i've been going through the classmates tag on ao3 and filtered out all the s.alt fics for all the characters and the majority of the fics#i'm seeing are aggressive lila takedown fics or like unproperly tagged s.alt fics#where the classmates are still rude and aggressive and bully mari when even lila doesn't really bully mari that badly??? like yes it is#awful that she tried to get her expelled and lied a bit about her but lila has never been physical nor tried to kill mari and nor would any#of the classmates actually turn against her like. they may disagree with her or think she may be acting on her crush and yes lila did#threaten mari in the bathroom but like... what has she done since then? try to get her expelled and then... nothing. like. this is Not me#saying not to take bullying seriously but people take it to the extreme with lila and how she treats mari in fics and i am so so so sick of#it!!! i just want to read mlb classmate fics where they're all silly and being teenagers without mari being unreasonably and uncanonically#bullied and without the tags 'alya/adrien/classmate redemption' HELLO??? WHY DO THEY NEED TO BE REDEEMED??? THEY AREN'T VILLAINS??? THEY ARE#FOURTEEN??? as a rule of thumb i refuse to read fics with those tags like sorry but if you tag fics like that then you obviously don't know#the characters. i'm sorry if this sounds mean or harsh it's just exhausting trying to find fun or sweet or found family mlb fics because so#many of them are so negative and ooc and involve like extreme hatred towards fourteen year old fictional children... like... how do we not#see the problem with that??? like... am i overreacting??? please someone tell me they agree with me!!! i've been working on this really#stressful assignment that determines whether i graduate my future career and also costs three hundred dollars to take so i've been really#stressed and every time i try and take an mb fic break i end up more stressed because the fandom is so cruel to children ahhhhhhhh#okay i am. done. maybe i'll delete this later... i just need to see if someone agrees with me because i am. :))) on the verge of losing it#lol#mlb
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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DCxDP Fic Idea: The Contact, the Butler and the Sly Time Lord
Martha accidentally engaged Bruce to a higher being when he was two.
It sounds terrible, but she hadn't thought that the man wearing the Time ghost costume at her husband's Halloween Gala wasn't wearing a costume and was actually the physical embodiment of Time.
She just thought he took Halloween very seriously.
Mr. Clockwork was charming and didn't care that she had married from the lower level of first class. Her parents were rich, of course, but they weren't old money, and they certainly didn't have a lot of power to speak of.
Because of that, the elites of Gotham thought she wasn't good enough to be in a family such as the Waynes. It was so lovely not to be dragged into conversations that were thinly concealed insults.
Everyone else at the Gala thought Martha had no right to be there with them. Why was she just a few zeros off from being middle class, and wasn't it just so sad that Thomas would stain his family with her?
Secertly, Martha prayed Bruce would do something wild, like marry a girl from Crime Alley or even adopt kids in lower classes to make them all choke on their pearls.
Her son would be one of the most powerful men in a few years, and she couldn't wait to see what kind of hell he would unleash upon them. She would never push, of course, but it would be a nice fantasy to have every time she had to face passive-aggressive comments from ladies told by their fathers they would be a far better Mrs. Wyane.
" Why, hello there. Aren't you the cutest little thing?" Mr. Clockwork coos, smiling down at Bruce. He clung to his mother's skirt, his matching cowboy costume a miniature version of what she was wearing.
The boy had wandered over in the middle of their conversation once he was bored of coloring at his table. Martha couldn't blame her poor baby. There really wasn't much to do for those his age here.
Thomas had stated that children were usually not brought along due to being loud and distracting.
Martha wouldn't hear any of it, insisting her son would be going with them at the party or there would be no party. The majority of the elites believed children should be seen, not heard, and that boiled her blood something fierce.
Thomas had thankfully known when to pick his battles, so he allowed his wife to drag him to a costume store for a family costume to wear. He currently chatting with a group of investors in all his cowboy glory somewhere on the other side of the gala.
"Say thank you, Bruce," She tells her boy, but he only hides his face more, causing the two adults to chuckle. "Do you have kids, Mr.Clockwork?"
"Yes. Two daughters and a son" The man chuckles "All three are a handleful but I love them dearly."
"Oh, how wonderful. Bruce is my only son, but I want to give him siblings," she tells him warmly. She can picture Bruce chasing after his younger siblings dressed up as the Grey Ghost he loves.
She knows Thomas was worried about their chances of having a second child. He was informed not too long ago that he may suffer from secondary infertility. She didn't mind. If they couldn't have a child of their own by blood they could easily adopt.
Martha worked long and hard to provide good orphanages to the city. Maybe one day, a child from there could be her own. She'll have to speak to her orphanage managers- those in charge of the kids- to see if they could help her find one.
They have successfully been getting kids into good homes (At least she thought the number of children constantly changed, and the kids were never seen again, meaning the families that adopted them loved them enough to never return!)
Mr. Clockwork hums "how about giving him a spouse instead? My girls or boy could be a good partner"
Laughing, she assumes he meant her work on bettering the lives of the gay community- in honor of her brother who passed during the AIDs epidemic. "I'm sure Bruce would be happy to hear Mommy found him a husband."
"Is that a yes?" Clockwork eyes' flashed with an emotion that was gone too quick for her to identify.
"Yes, of course. If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all."
Mr. Clockworks red eyes - contacts? A medical condition?- gleam, and his voice takes on a strange rhythm. "Then so shall it be, my son Danny Fenton shall be married to Bruce Wayne per their Blood Mother and Core Father deal."
Huh. Maybe Mr. Clockwork is a nutcase. Suddenly, she thinks back to her father, who would often tell her that she lived in a delusion because he did not want her to see the horror that Gotham truly is.
Even when you think you're doing good, Gotham has a way of making your work into nightmares.
Was Mr. Clockwork one of those people he warned her about?
Thankfully, he leaves not long after that. He claims he must return to work before his co-workers notice him gone. She doesn't see him for the rest of the night and half wonders if she had been speaking to one of the wait staff they hired as extra help.
Not that she minded, but it made her think his name might not even be Clockwork.
She tells Thomas the story hours after Bruce is put to bed with a candy bucket and the last guests have all slipped home. Thomas is exhausted, having been playing host longer than her because Martha had left around eight to take Bruce trick and treating. Then she got home and put him down for his bedtime.
She got back to the party around eleven but it was a much-needed break from all the hostility that Thomas had been forced to face alone.
"WHAT!?" Thomas booms when she finishes the story. They had just crawled into bed, and Thomas had been rolling to his side for sleep before her words flung him back. "Clockwork!? You're sure you spoke to Clockwork!?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"What did he look like?"
"Um well he was in costume, but red eyes, blue skin, and he was wearing purple robes." She watches as the blood drains from her husband's face. "What is it darling? Who was he?"
"Oh, this isn't good....Alfred! Alfred!" Thomas frantically calls as if the devil had appeared in their bedroom.
Their servant and sometimes lover comes racing into the room, carrying a loaded shotgun. Ever since Thomas had met him overseas when he hired the British man as a personal bodyguard, he fell hard and fast for Alfred but he still deeply loved Martha.
He had sent Martha a letter detailing his feelings for his guard, and only after she had given him permission did he pursue the butler. Alfred had insisted on meeting Thomas' wife to prove that she was okay with him having a lover, so he had followed Wayne back home.
Then he simply never left.
Maybe because he was the best butler Wayne ever had, with his regal training and service in her royal highness' army, but she thinks that her own developed feelings for Alfred convince him to remain.
Alfred insisted that he was only a servant and thus could not be added to their marriage besides a bed partner occasionally. Still, Martha hoped one day they could convince him otherwise.
Bruce already saw him as a second father.
He looks at the pair, dressed in their nightwear in a rather enticing position (Thomas had grabbed Martha by her shoulder, to look into her eyes but that left them rather entangled on the bed) with no visible threat, and raises one brow.
Before he can say anything Thomas is all but rolling out of bed in a frantic leap. He tangles up in the blankets, falling gracelessly over the edge in failing limbs "Martha made a deal with Clockwork!"
At once, Alfred's handsome face drains of blood. "Oh dear, Martha darling, you made a grave mistake."
She can only blink at the men in confusion. "Who is Clockwork?"
"He has many names, but I knew him as Merlin," Alfred informed her evenly. He took her hand in his, the tremble in his fingers revealing his unease. " He had shown interest in Master Thomas before and was the one I protected him from. I barely fought him off and only due to outsmarting him. I would not be able to do it again a second time."
What?
"He is also known as a Fae or incubus in some circles. The kind that steals you away for fun." Thomas babbled from where he was pacing next to the bed, eyes franticly glancing about as if the bogggie man was about to leap out at him from the shadows.
For a moment, Martha wondered why her husband, a man of science and medicine who had never been superstitious, believed this Clockwork was some...some creature of myths.
"Martha, love, what did he ask of you?" Alfred questioned, bringing her hand to his lips as though kissing them would confirm she was safe before him.
"He asked for Bruce to marry his son."
"Oh, gods!" Thomas fretted, speeding up, his long strides becoming far more frantic. "Please say you didn't say yes."
"I-thought it was a joke, I didn't see anything wrong with it, I- said yes."
Alfred closed his eyes, looking like a man who had just been informed his death sentence had been signed by the Queen. "Then all we can do now is pray."
Years later, as Alfred is dusting the portrait of his deceased loves. He allowed his hand to trace the cover of Martha's painted smile and Thomas' strong jaw, mind filled with stolen kisses and sweet nothings that were ripped away that fateful night.
He is still struck by their loss. Every now and then, the knowledge of their death creeps in during his most mundane activities. It's like a kick to the chest every time.
Oh, how he misses them.
Ding Dong
The front doorbell jolts him out of his memories so violently it takes the aged Butler a moment or two to get a hold of his senses. He puts down the duster, climbs down the latter, and quickly makes his way to the door.
Stopping to fix his suit coat, he throws it open with a prepared smile. He expects extra help from the catering company Master Bruce hired for Wayne's annual Halloween Gala.
He was not expecting the two men, one looking nervous around Master Bruce's age and the other sly. His age is hard to gauge, but it may be due to time not affecting him as it did mortals.
Alfred's blood freezes at the sight of those cunning red eyes and smirk. "Merlin."
"Alfred Pennyworth." The demon chuckles. "I prefer Clockwork, as you know, but it's good to see you remember me. Most humans are prone to forgetting in their limited age."
"What are you doing here?"
"Why I came to fulfill the deal between Martha Wayne nee Kane and I"
"Martha is dead. Your contact is void."
Clockwork chuckles again, the sound as deadly as poison. "The contact lives as long as all those involved in it live. You know this."
Alfred presses the panic button on his wristwatch, knowing it sends a message to everyone in the manor to evacuate immediately. He will not live through this battle, but hopefully, it will give Master Bruce time to escape. "You will not lay a hand on Master Bruce."
"Come now, Alfred. We are to be in-laws. Our sons are joining in holy matrimony. Why the hostility-"
"Excuse me what?" The other man-demon? Ghost? Higher-being? cuts in, looking at Clockwork with brows knitted into a frown. "What did you mean holy matrimony?"
"Danny, you're getting married," Clockwork says with a cheerful wave.
"The hell I am!" The man barks, flushing red with anger. Alfred can hardly believe he just yelled at the monster. "I am not marrying some random guy!"
"It is the way things must go for the good of mankind-"
"Oh, go suck on a lemon! We both know that whole "this is fate" is bull!"
"You are embarrassing me in front of our new in-laws, younn man" Clockwork actually waves a finger at the fully grown human. "This is my one chance to marry you off to a good man. We both know that you can't attract a mate on your own."
"What!? Yes, I can! I've had girlfriends and boyfriends before!"
"And yet, no spouse! No wedding! Not even a ring!"
"Moby Dick, I knew this bonding fishing trip was a lie! You can't make me get married because of some contact you made when I was three!"
"It's not permanent! Martha Wayne said If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all. This means you both must want to be together after one year of marriage. See if you like it, and if you don't, I can always find you a new husband."
"This isn't returning a jacket to a store! I can't just see if I like being married Clockwork!" The man hissed running a hand through his hair. "We're going home. I'm so sorry for bothering you today Mr. Alfred."
Alfred blinks at the young man's sheepish smile, wondering if ti's a trick. "No bother at all."
"Danny, if you leave without marriage, Bruce Wayne will die in an hour due to breaking our contract," Clockwork says, crossing his arms. "Honestly, your sisters were far more mature regarding their marriages."
Danny punches him in the face with a glowing hand. The higher being falls like a sack of bricks.
"Right, I'm going to drop this one off at a nursing home, and then I'll return to marry Bruce. Only so the contact doesn't kill him, and I swear I'll only visit every once in a while until our year is up." Throwing- Merlin, holy shit- over his shoulder as if though he weighed nothing, Danny waves at Alfred and scurries away, vanishing into a green portal.
Alfred is left standing at the doorway, utterly flabbergasted. Distantly, he wonders if the hollowing wind is actually Martha laughing herself silly in the afterlife.
Carefully, he reaches up for his com, switching it on to the sound of his family's frantic bickering. They were all worried about him since he sent the alarm and were fighting about following policy or saving him.
"Master Bruce," He says faintly silencing the coms "Please come to have your suit fitted as soon as you can."
"What for?" His son asks, likely looking for a coded message, but Alfred doesn't have the mental capacity to make one.
"Your wedding, sir. It's tonight, courtesy of your mother."
The coms explode into chaos.
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countcvnt · 2 months
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Experiment
Chapter One: Scrambled
[Poly!TF141/Fem!Reader]
Summary: Your memory is hazy, almost nonexistent, after being plucked out of a safe house and experimented on for months. When you're finally rescued you don't remember the people closest to you. Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (not much else this chapter), me using an english to scottish translator, not beta read Word Count: 3.3k A/N: Had this silly idea and turned it into a serious/angsty fic. I hope you all will like it as much as I do! Also, Reader has a call sign! It's Ace. If you prefer, you can read it here on AO3
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Your eyes are heavy, your body burns, and you can't stop shaking. You aren't even sure of where you are. Your eyes are trained ahead of you, looking at what you assume is a two way mirror. A scientist is standing to the side of you messing with some needles and medicines. Your half lidded eyes cut towards him and you see a thick blue substance in a syringe.
“What's that?” You croak, voice hoarse.
“Hm?” The scientist doesn't even look at you, “curious now, are we?” He asks, pulling the syringe up and turning to you. He doesn't answer your question though, not in a way you would like. “We are about to figure out what this is.”
‘We’. Your stomach flips. He didn't even seem to know what it was. You accept your fate. You have from the very beginning. You don't know how long you've been part of this ‘program’, and to you, it didn't matter anymore. The only thing that matters is trying to get out alive. No one seemed to be coming for you. No one has in all of the days you've been hidden away. You didn't expect anyone to save you now. So, you had decided to save yourself. Figuring out how to do that was becoming difficult though.
You know that behind that two way mirror are a bunch of guards. You know they're heavily armed. You know, no matter what they have juiced you up with, you aren't beating a bunch of armed men. So, you sit idly. Letting them poke and prod and decide you are going to wait until the perfect opportunity shows itself. You just have to hold on until it does.
A loud alarm suddenly rings throughout the building and you cover your ears, flinching. The scientist seems more agitated than anything. He doesn't seem as bothered as you are, by any means.
“Guards!” He calls out, looking towards the large mirror. “Guards?” He questions.
He puts a finger up at you, asking for you to wait a minute. As if you have any other choice. A loud bang comes from outside the room and chills run up your spine. The guard walks towards the door and he peeks out. He quickly shuts and locks the door before returning back to you. He scurries over towards the metal stand beside your seat. He grabs the syringe and picks it up.
Something clicks in you. The alarms are still blaring and the guards seem to be gone to check it out. You watch as the syringe comes towards you, headed right for your neck. You move faster than you're used to, and grab the man’s hand and push him back. A lot harder than you had meant to. He slides back and hits the wall. The syringe does not leave his hand.
You rush towards the door. You wiggle the door knob and try to rip the door open. It doesn't budge. You turn your head back and see the scientist steadying himself. Fear kicks in.
“Help!” You scream, slamming your fists into the door. “Please, help me!”
“That was really stupid,” the man behind you says. “No one can hear you, no one is coming to save you. They haven't yet, have they?”
Tears prick your eyes. You turn back around and your back hits the door.
“Y'know, I'm going to be honest.” He stalks towards you. “I know they picked you because you're so… compliant. But really? I think that big guy with the mask would have been a better choice.”
That stings. “Who?”
“Which one?”
“Both.”
“You know I can't give out classified information. But if this works, I promise, you'll know everything. As for the other guy? I'm surprised you don't know who I'm talking about. But honestly, after all the brain scrambling you've had done to you, I understand how you don't remember him…”
You lose it. Something in you snaps. You lunge forward and grab the man. The both of you tussle briefly. Until you get him pinned. Your body slams into his and you hold him down. You raise your fist and bring it down, slamming it into his jaw. Screams, pleas fall from his lips. He's begging for you to quit. But you don't. You, at that moment, decide you are going to do that to every single person who has harmed you, who caused this.
The door behind you blows open, but you don't falter. Your fists continue to slam into the scientist’s face. Until you hear someone with a Scottish accent say your name. You freeze. You turn to find a man in the doorway, his eyes wide. You furrow your brows when he whispers your name again. You move to get up, without thinking about the man below you. You don't realize he's moving. His hand comes up and the needle is pressed into your neck. Whatever the liquid was is quickly administered into your bloodstream.
You hear your name again, louder this time, but you fall to the side, eyes too heavy to hold open. Your head slams into the now bloodied white tile and you're out.
So much for escaping. _____________________________________ You wake up to beeping. A sound you had grown accustomed to recently. You feel monitors hooked up to you, and an IV in your arm. You twitch ever so slightly, every muscle in your body contracting. And then it hits.
Anger.
Your eyes snap open. Your legs swing over the side of the bed. You rip every single monitor off of you, the IV flying across the room. The monitor begins to beep loudly and as you rush towards the door, exiting the isolated room, an alarm blares. You flinch momentarily, but do not let the sound stop you. You are looking for someone, anyone to give you a hint of what's going on. Nothing around you looks familiar. But from all the ‘brain scrambling’, that's normal. You're used to not knowing as much as you figure you used to.
A man in a bucket hat turns the corner, rushing towards what can only assume is you. You let out a low growl and begin to sprint. Your body slams into his and the both of you are sent sliding across the floor. You grab his vest and lower yourself to him, all of your weight holding him down. “Where the fuck am I?”
He's looking at you with confused eyes. He doesn't make any sudden movements. He immediately presents himself as a friend, not a threat. You squint and then see someone else coming around the corner.
“Price! Oh my-” the young man freezes. He says your name and your world is instantly rocked.
You haven't heard your name in god knows how long. The Scottish man had called out for you earlier, but before that? You really can't think of a time when someone had called you something other than some experiment number. “Who are you?” You hiss.
You feel the man under you tense up. He swallows hard and he says your name this time, slow and soft. He isn't showing any signs of wanting to throw you across the room or knock the shit out of you. You take it he isn't a threat and shift.
“You don't remember me?” The man in the ball cap asks, brows furrowed. “You don't remember us?”
Your heart jumps into your throat. You push yourself off of the man below you and you stand up. You brush yourself off and watch as he stands up. He radios someone to cut off the alarm and it's promptly stopped. You are thankful for that. You stand in the hall awkwardly and watch him and the other, younger man talk to each other with facial expressions.
“You're probably hungry,” the man in the bucket hat turns towards you, “how about we go get you some food?”
You aren't stupid, you know that also entails speaking with them about everything you just went through. Despite not wanting to talk, you nod. You are hungry and haven't had an actual meal in possibly months. The man reaches out to touch your lower back, to lead you to wherever he wants to go. You flinch away from him, everything in you tensing. You can tell it's a reflex. A habit. He's used to doing that. Your eyes scan him and you're searching your brain for everything, anything about him. But there's nothing.
“Sorry.” Is all he says. He leaves it at that. “Gaz,” he looks away from you and towards the other man. “Please go grab some food and meet us back at room 2B.”
“Yes, sir.”
The tension is palpable. You want to run. Fast. You can. You know you can. But something is keeping you tethered there. You follow a couple feet behind the man who had yet to introduce himself and keep thinking about ‘Gaz’. Your mind is reeling. You keep thinking about his name, his face, everything. You close your eyes tight and inhale sharply.
“Kyle.” It's all you say. It stops you dead in your tracks. Your eyes open and your breathing is heavy. “His name is Kyle.” Your breathing is suddenly ragged. You can't catch your breath and feel like everything is crumbling in on you. You fall to your knees and try to keep yourself from wailing. “I don't even know your name!” You whisper to keep yourself from sobbing. Your voice cracks.
“Price. John Price.” He drops in front of you. He reaches for your bicep. You don't flinch away this time. “Hey,” his voice is low, “look at me.” Your eyes cut up to him. “We're gonna help you through this. I promise.” You nod. You want to trust him. You need to. You feel like you can. You inhale slowly and Price helps you up. “We're going to go to room 2B, you're going to eat some breakfast, and we're going to ask you some questions.”
You nod and start following Price again. You make it to the room in silence and Price opens the door for you. You walk in and find four beige walls, a table, and four chairs. Nothing else. Until you look in the corner of the room and find a little camera. You lock onto it and squint.
“Why?” You point at it.
“Oh,” Price walks in and closes the door behind him, “it’s protocol. Security and all.”
“Fair enough.” You sit down at the table and look at the Price. “You gonna sit?”
Price holds onto his vest and leans against the table. “Not yet.”
You shrug. “Suit yourself.” Your stomach growls. You touch it through the thin white shirt you're wearing. “You think Gaz will be here soon?”
With that, a knock comes from the other side of the door. Two knocks, a pause, and another knock. Price opens the door and Gaz walks in. He has a tray filled with food and you are growing antsy. He sits across from you and slides the tray towards you. You try to not immediately dig in, but you can't help it. You grab a glazed donut first and begin to devour it.
“Oh,” you pause your munching, “thank you, Kyle.”
Gaz freezes. His eyes widen and he turns towards Price. It's your turn to freeze. You look up at him mid bite and blink. Gaz motions towards you and asks, “Did you tell her my name.”
“No.” Price shakes his head.
“You remembered?” Gaz seems ecstatic. “What else do you-”
“Nothing.” You snap. “I don't remember a damn thing.” You huff as you move onto the muffin on the tray. You unwrap it and begin to devour the sweet. “All I know,” You speak through bites, “is that I was locked up for God knows how long and they were experimenting on me-”
“Four months.” Gaz speaks quietly.
“Huh?” You question him. “How do you know?”
“We looked for you when you disappeared. It was four months ago when they got you. You really don’t remember anything?”
“Like I said,” You huff, “I just know they were juicing me up.” Before they can question you further, a light bulb goes off in your head. “Wait.” You squint at them, “The Scottish one. Where is he?”
They tense up. Gaz talks first, “You remember Soap?”
“Huh?” You cock your head. “Is that his name? He’s the one that found me. I assume he’s here. Or did he not…” You trail off.
“No, he’s here…” Price begins, “…We don’t want to overwhelm you.”
“Oh.” You shrug. “I guess that makes sense. How am I supposed to, uh, assimilate without being overwhelmed. I mean, why don’t we just rip that band aid off?”
“Trust me,” Price locks eyes with you, “we do not need to rip that band aid off right now.”
“Okay, okay,” You put your hands up. “Do you wanna ask your questions now?” _____________________________________ “This cannae be healthy,” Soap looks at Simon.
Simon shrugs, “Don’t care.” He’s watching the cameras closely.
“Thay aren't even in th' room yit! Ye'r peepin' an empty room!” Soap’s eyes move from the screen and back to Simon.
Simon’s eyes cut from the screen and to Soap, “Shut it. Price wants us to stay away from her for now. He didn’t say we couldn’t do this.”
As he says that, the door of the room opens. Price is visible first. And then, another figure walks in. You. Simon and Soap both tense. You look directly at the camera and point, asking why it’s there. You’re so clear. Soap’s heart jumps. Simon shifts.
“She remembers Gaz’s name.” Simon speaks through gritted teeth.
“A'm sure that's a targeted attack against ye, Ghost.” Soap is trying to find humor in this situation. He’s grasping for straws.
Simon is not enjoying it. “Shut the fuck up, Johnny.” Simon growls.
Soap focuses back on the screen and notices you aren’t even sure how long you’ve been gone. As Gaz gently tells you four months, Simon grumbles the amount of time at the same time.
“If Price doesn’t wanna overwhelm her, why the fuck is Gaz in there.” Simon is seething. “Why can’t we all be in there.”
Simon shuts his mouth as you say they had been juicing you up. He tenses. Soap does the same. They both need to know what it means. Simon feels like he’s going to combust. His eyes narrow once you mention Soap. Soap looks like he’s about to jump with joy, until he realizes you don’t actually remember him. Not past him saving you.
“Fuck this,” Simon pushes past Soap. “I'm going in there.”
“Hey! Price said-” Soap starts. He doesn't finish. “Fine-” he rushes out behind Simon. He guesses they're just going to bust into the room and Simon is going to make you remember. He isn't quite sure what Simon has planned really. But he decides he can't sit in the security room and just watch. He needs to see you.
So does Simon. _____________________________________ You reach for a fork for your eggs and lean back in your seat, plate in hand. You relax (as much as possible) and you look at Gaz and Price. You are studying them. Really digging into their features. You want to remember so badly. You have no reason to trust that they used to know you, a part of you is ready to attack in case they are lying. But most of you trusts them. How else would you remember Kyle’s name?
“Listen,” Price inhales sharply, “we want to help you, without overwhelming you. We need to know what you know.”
“Listen,” You mimic his tone, “I don’t know what you aren’t getting. I remember nothing, nada, zilch.”
“Okay,” Gaz interjects, “What’s your last memory?”
You're sent into deep thought. You place your hand on your chin and look off. “Well-” You begin, “I remember-”
The door of the room busts open. You tense, ready to pounce. Your palms hit the table and you stand up straight. The fork clangs against the ground. Two men walk into the room. The one who saved you and-
Words play in your head over and over again. ‘I think the big guy with the mask would have been a better choice.’ For a moment, your world is completely rocked. ‘I’m surprised you don’t know who I'm talking about.’ Your eyes lock with the large beast of a man. His eyes soften. Briefly. You swallow hard.
The entire room is silent. Until you open your mouth. “He wanted you…”
“What?” Soap is the first to question you.
“The scientist, the one doing the experiments on me-” You are tense again “-he didn’t want me.” Your head hurts. You place your hand on your forehead and groan. You are thinking too hard. Remembering too much.
“Hey,” Price motions for you to sit down, “it’s alright.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ghost,” Price looks over his shoulder, “not right now.”
Ghost stiffens. He doesn’t say anything else. You sit down and inhale slowly. Your eyes move from the floor, past Price, and they hit Ghost. You feel something stir inside you. Like your emotions know more than your brain does. You want to scream. Every single man in that room seems to think so highly of you, and you don’t even remember them.
“I think I need to sleep.” Your voice is a whisper.
You don’t know the last time you got a good rest. You figure sleeping will help you. Price begins to grab for you, before freezing. You lean into him, letting him help you up. Price moves past the men and you tag along beside him.
“I’m going to show you where your room is. If you need anything, please let one of us know. But for now, we’ll leave you alone.” You are led down the hall and towards the barracks. It’s silent between the two of you, until you reach your room. “You have this room to yourself. I had some things rearranged, if it needs to be changed, and you aren’t comfortable alone, let me know.”
You nod at him. “Thank you. For everything. I’ll see you in the morning?”
“0600 sharp.” Price begins to leave.
“Wait,” You stop him. “You don’t happen to have my phone, do you?”
Price turns back to you. “No, that was not recovered. But, we can get you a new one. I’ll work on that while you rest.”
You nod. You head into your room and close the door behind you. You look around. There are two beds. You groan at the fact you can’t remember who used to be your bunk mate. You’re scraping through your brain, really searching for just an inkling of a memory. But… Nothing. Nothing at all comes to your mind.
Nothing about the four men convinced that you know them, anyway.
You lay down in bed and cover up. It’s not the most comfortable bed you’ve ever been in, but it is the most comfortable bed you’ve laid on in the last four months. Your head hits the pillows and you close your eyes. It takes longer than you’d like to go to sleep, but not as long as you expect it to take. You only hope you don’t dream of anything at all. You can’t be that lucky. _________________________________ “Price!” Simon shouts at the captain. His face contorted with anger and pain, and he is more glad than ever that they can’t see him through his balaclava. “What the fuck was that? We need to know-”
“No,” Price stops him immediately. “We do not need to stress her out further. We will figure this out eventually, on her time.” Price reassures his team. “You did not see the look in her eyes, the way she tackled me to the floor-”
“She what…?” Soap tenses.
Simon bristles instantly. He’s seething again. “What do you mean?”
“Ghost,” Gaz starts, “I know you want to know what happened. We all do.” He’s trying to get through to him. “But something is not right. The way she easily took Captain Price down- That wasn’t the Ace we know.”
“Of course!” Simon growls, “She was gone for four months, being poked and prodded-”
“Ghost,” Price interrupts, inhaling sharply, “she pinned me down and I could not get up. They did more than poke and prod at her. They-”
It clicks. “They were making soldiers… Enhanced soldiers.” Simon whispers. His face contorts again, this time with confusion, “Why did they pick her?” He remembers what you said. ‘He wanted you.’ Simon momentarily feels a pit in his stomach. “Ace couldn’t have been the only one… There’s no way they did this experiment on one person.”
“She was the only one at the underground compound.” Soap shifts. “Maybe she was the only success?”
Simon is stuck on why they picked you. It’s not like you weren’t capable. But you were never on the field fighting for your life. You were always on the sidelines, helping them get into the places, helping them get information. How had they spotted you and decided you were the best candidate? He knows that question is going to keep him up at night.
“Come on,” Price brings Simon back to reality. “We got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
1K notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 4 months
Text
so inviting, i almost jump in.
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pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: fluff. pining. idiots in love? fake dating...kinda lol. a lil bit of angst but not too much.
words: 4.5k
notes: happy new year! i tried so hard to finish this last night but just couldn’t do it lol. this is part of the ciwywt universe, but i think it can be read as a standalone, too.
also - coherent, consistent timelines? sorry, don’t know her. idk where this fits in their story but it does bc i say it does. 😌 i really love these two and i hope you enjoy this lil fic as much as i do. thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome, and so appreciated! 💞
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"Ow,” you wince, “damn it," you grumble to yourself as you set your eyeliner pencil down, blinking rapidly to quell the tears you could feel about to form in your eye. You huff and turn to look down at the cause of your distraction, your phone ringing loudly as it lays on the counter. You see the caller and preemptively roll your eyes. Not this again.
You swipe to answer the call and his voice immediately floats into your ear, giving you no time to even utter a 'hello'.
"Before you say anything-"
"No," you state firmly, annoyance clear in your tone as you stop him before he can begin.
"Doll,"
"Bucky, I said no," you cut him off again. "It's a no. No. No, no, no. Not gonna happen," you continue despite his pathetic huff sounding on the other end.
"I know you said no..." he says before trailing off for a second, "but, doll, I really need you."
Damn him. You sigh heavily into the phone, putting a hand to your forehead to stop the headache you know is coming. He's really trying to pull on your heart strings... unfortunately for him, it's not gonna work.
"You don't need me, Bucky. You're gonna be fine. They're your friends, if you just tell them what you told me, they'll understand. You have nothing to worry about."
"That's not," he huffs, stopping himself, and you can almost hear him shake his head, "Will you at least try to come by?"
You know you won't, but you don't want to upset him any more than he already is.
"Yeah, I'll try. And stop worrying so much. You'll have a good time, I know it," you smile, the thought of him and his friends enjoying their New Year's Eve tugging at your lips.
"Yeah," he responds, sounding a little unsure. "Okay, well, I'll see you later?"
"Mhm...maybe," you say.
"Doll," he groans, causing an unbidden laugh to slip from you at his dramatics.
"I said I'd try, no promises! But I do have to go now, so, talk later. Bye," you finish, hanging up on him before he can try and talk you into making a promise you have no intention of keeping.
You sigh heavily as you set your phone back down, returning to your almost finished makeup. Just because you aren't going out doesn't mean you can't look good.
You're still so surprised he asked you to be his fake date to his New Year's Eve party. Both because you were surprised he was hosting a party to begin with, and because he needed a fake date.
But that was just it, he didn't need a fake date. He wanted to get his friends off his back with the constant set ups and double dates they'd plan for him. What he really needed to do was tell them the truth, just like he told you. He didn't want to date, at least not right now. He said his mind was on other things. That was understandable, so you weren't sure why he couldn't just tell them that...
A part of you feels bad for not helping Bucky out, but the other part of you knows you'd feel like a total outsider at a small party being attended by the avengers.
Like, the real-life superhero team, The Avengers.
That was an immediate 'no thank you'.
You were content to spend the night alone; just you, your grapes, and some apple cider to cheers to the new year.
--
The television plays on, another episode of a show you've seen ten times before just starting up, as a knock sounds at your door.
You furrow a brow as your head shoots in its direction. It only takes a second for you to come to the conclusion that it must be Bucky. You set your drink down and stand from where you were sitting cozily on your couch.
You fix your dress, and for no reason at all, check yourself in the mirror before you near the door, making sure your makeup isn't smudged and your hair still looks nice as you do.
There's another knock as you get to it and you open your door with a bit of attitude at his impatience.
"Bucky, how many times-" you're stopped short as you quickly see that the man before you is, in fact, not Bucky. "Oh, uhm, sorry, can I help you?" you ask.
"Yeah," the man laughs, "I'm here for the party. This is the right apartment, isn't it? Bucky Barnes?" he asks, looking at you quizically.
"No," you answer, "no, wrong apartment. He's just," again you're cut off, but this time by the door right down the hall opening, none other than Bucky peeking out to look down at you and - oh my god wait...is this - this is - holy shit you're talking to Captain America. Your eyes round as you look from Bucky back over to the man before you. "Oh, gosh, you, you're,"
"Sam Wilson," he smiles brightly at you, extending a hand. You shake hands as he continues, "and you must be-"
He is cut off from saying your name as it comes out of Bucky's mouth, almost frantically. You look from Sam back over to Bucky, your eyes still wide.
"I know you're still getting ready, but would you come here for just a second," he nods at you. You look once more between Sam and Bucky, your eyes narrowing as they land back on your own personal pain in the ass. What the hell is he up to... You and Sam go to walk over to him but Bucky speaks again. "Not you, Sam. You stay there," he says in a fuss. Sam puts his hands up, a look of confusion clear on his face at Bucky's demand.
You continue toward him and as soon as you're close enough to touch, he pulls you to him, turning you both so Sam can't see what you're saying. It's a hushed conversation, a whispered argument, really.
"You have to come over."
"No, I really don't."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You're staying."
"No, I'm not."
"You're staying. I'm not letting you leave," he says, trying to corral you into his apartment as you swipe at him, a back and forth of swats ensuing between the two of you.
"Bucky!" you finally whisper yell, stopping the battle as you ball your fists, almost stomping like a toddler in your annoyance. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I lied."
"Huh? To me? About what?"
"To all of you. But mostly them. I told them you'd be here. Because I thought you would be. But then you said you weren't coming, but I couldn't tell them that or they'd think I was just making up another lie about you..."
"Another lie?"
"I...may have... told my friends that we're dating and have been for a few weeks," he murmurs under his breath, so quiet you can barely hear his confession.
"You what?" you balk, trying your hardest to squash the stupid butterflies that are fluttering around in your stomach now at the idea of not only dating Bucky, but of being someone he brings up in conversation to other people.
"Alright, love birds, cute as this is, are one of you gonna invite me in or am I just supposed to stand here awkwardly in your hallway all night?" Sam interjects, walking to you both as you turn your heads to look at him.
Bucky turns entirely, moving closer to you, slipping his arm behind your back and resting his hand on your hip, "Yeah, welcome in. Steve said he'd be here with beer in a few minutes," Bucky says, an annoyed edge to his voice as he lets Sam through the door. Sam raises a brow at you and you force a smile. As soon as he's inside, Bucky snaps the door shut behind him, leaving you both in the hallway still.
"What the hell," Sam says, loud enough for you to hear through the door.
"Look, it started as a lie to get out of a date, but then I just kept using you an excuse to not go to things I didn't wanna go to. And ya know, more than half the time I wasn't really lying because I was with you," he tries to excuse himself.
"Are you insane?" you ask him plainly.
"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need you to be here tonight, please," he begs, his puppy eyes starting to get to you.
"You had only asked me to be your fake date."
"Yeah, once you said yes, I was gonna work the girlfriend thing in," he smiles wryly, rubbing the back of his neck in his anxiousness.
"You're ridiculous, you know that?"
"Is that a yes?"
You roll your eyes before acquiescing, "Fine. But you've gotta come clean tomorrow. You can't start the new year with secrets, it doesn't bode well for anyone."
"Deal," he smiles his real smile this time. Then his eyes drift down to your outfit and you warm, like you always do, under his attention. "You look good," he says softly, sincerity in his voice.
"Thanks," you accept quickly. You will not let him fluster you so easily. Not tonight.
--
More of Bucky's friends arrive soon after you get back from your apartment, your bag of grapes and bottle of unopened cider in hand. Bucky introduces you to each of them and you're now unsurprised that they know your name and exactly who you are. And you, for your part, are in awe of each and every one of them. Though you like to think you don't make it obvious.
And it's surprising how normal it all feels.
You for sure thought you'd be a nervous wreck around these people, but, especially with Bucky by your side, you've never felt so calm and comfortable, and at a party of all places. Though you suppose it helps that you're already so comfortable around his apartment. Still, it's nice. They're nice. And fun!
Card games are played, karaoke sung, and stories told as you all snack and chat the evening away.
You're all laughing as Sam talks about how everyone was sure Bucky had been making you up like a summer camp girlfriend after the fifth time he claimed you were sick or out of town so you couldn't show up to the events they had invited you to. Of course, you had no idea about any of them, but you do know where you were each and every night they brought up.
You were here.
With Bucky.
So, he wasn't completely lying. You smile and look to Bucky who stands right next to you. Your eyes instantly meet his, a smile of his own already gracing his face. You look back down, bashful despite yourself.
The night has passed so quickly and it's already nearing midnight. You're about to go get your grapes ready, but Steve's voice stops you, catching your attention.
"Ya know, I can't even remember the last time I've seen you look so happy, Buck," Steve smiles as he looks at the two of you. "I'm really happy for you, both of you,” he adds. “It's obvious how much you two care about each other. It's good to see."
You don't know what to say, and you're too scared to look at Bucky. You just force another smile, feeling a bit sad more than anything. Because this isn't real. Whether you'd like it to be or not. It isn't. You have to remind yourself of that.
Bucky's hand squeezing your waist, and the feeling of his admiring gaze on you as he pulls you closer to his side, doesn't help. It just makes that pit in your stomach grow deeper.
This is easy for him because it means nothing.
This is killing you because it means everything. It’s everything you never give yourself permission to dream about. Everything you want. And it’s what you know isn’t for you. It couldn’t be.
Just a few more minutes, you breathe, and then you'll go back to normal. No dating, just friends...just friends? Whatever it is you are to him...
You're lost in thought as the conversation continues around you, Bucky's hand never leaving you and his gaze never wavering. Even as he engages in the conversation, his attention is solely on you.
"Oo, countdown is going!"
The yell pulls you out of your head as your eyes snap to the television. What the hell! How did you just lose eight minutes? Damn Bucky always taking up your thoughts and distracting you.
You don't have the time to get to the fridge for your grapes as the kitchen is crowded, flutes of cider and champagne being passed out among the group.
You tsk, oh well. At least you have on your red underwear.
As the count gets lower, Bucky gets closer, and you mindlessly lean back into him as you watch the live broadcast from Time Square. Ten seconds hits and you all count along, Bucky's other arm comes around as he holds you from behind. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Bucky turns you around in his arms, catching you off guard as you look up at him, your hands coming to rest on his chest.
Two.
He leans in, and you're frozen. His nose brushes yours, as his lips brush against your own. Oh.
One.
"Happy New Year," he whispers against you, cheers and exclamations of the same sentiment shared all around the living room, between everyone else.
"Happy New Year," you whisper back breathily before you unthinkingly press closer to him.
His lips meet yours as he leans in ever closer and kisses you, so softly. Your eyes flutter closed as you return his affection, kissing back harder than you intend before you break away. It feels like magic, it feels like home. And you want nothing more than to do it again. To lose yourself in him so delightfully…
You remember yourself then and almost shy away completely before Bucky takes your face in his hand, turning you back to him. You lock eyes once more and you feel like you can't breathe at what you see in his. You don't have time to think on it before his eyes flick down to your lips and then he's kissing you again. His lips press harder against yours, still moving just as gently but somehow it feels much more intimate. Sincere. Real.
You deepen the kiss and then suddenly the whooping and claps around you both bring you back to reality.
You pull away, taking a sobering breath, blinking away the haze of longing as Bucky's delicate touch remains on your cheek. You gingerly reach to take his hand, slowly pulling it off of you. You hold it for a second, squeezing his hand before letting it drop.
The celebration continues all around but you need to get yourself together. Alone.
"'M gonna use the bathroom," you whisper to him, knowing he can hear you even through the din.
You exchange 'Happy New Year' exclamations with everyone you pass on your way to his bathroom and bid goodnight to the people already getting ready to head home. A lot of them have early mornings at the tower, so you get it.
There are only a few people in the living room with Bucky as you look back before you escape to the bathroom, taking your time to decompress.
Sam, Steve, and Nat were talking with him, but his eyes were on you when you looked at them.
You knew this was a bad idea. You knew you'd get caught up in the fantasy. And somehow, he still got you to do it. You curse yourself in the mirror and then notice your smudged lipstick.
The thought of your lipstick staining Bucky's lips right out there has you in a flurry of emotions...
He kissed you. Twice. That actually happened. But did it really mean anything?
Your heart twists as you refuse to believe it could have. You just need to... God, you don't know what you need. All you know is right now you can't stop thinking about Bucky's hands on you. You can't stop thinking of how soft and supple his lips are. And how damn good of a kisser he is.
You look at yourself once more in the mirror.
Fucking hell. What are you gonna do? You sigh, eyes squeezing shut before you shake your head at yourself.
You turn back to the door, opening it right when someone's knock hits.
You're somehow surprised, and yet not at all, to see Bucky staring back at you as you pull it open wider.
"Hey," you say, raising a brow and shoving every fuzzy feeling threatening to strangle you back down.
"Hey," he started. "Everyone left. I just, uh. Wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Yeah, I'm good," you nod.
"I'm sorry. About kissing you."
"Oh," you utter - sounding more dejected than you wanted to. "Yeah, no. Don't, don't even worry about it." You muster a shamefully see through smile.
His stare is near invasive as he really looks at you, analyzing you. He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it, instead giving you a tight lipped smile in return.
He nods, then looks to the floor, "Okay," he accepts.
You nibble your lip, crossing your arms as he still stands in front of you.
He notices and moves out of your way, offering a small sorry and a huff of a laugh.
You walk back out into the living room as he follows.
"Wow, this place is a mess,” you breathe a laugh, hoping to keep the subject change.
"Yeah," he agrees, "I'll be having fun tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" you question. "Are you busy now?"
"... I guess not."
"Then grab a garbage bag, Barnes. We've got work to do."
He laughs, "Oh, yeah? You're gonna stay and help me clean up?"
"What are friends for if not clean up?"
He smiles at you as his mind replays his conversation with Sam, Steve and Nat just minutes ago.
He told them the truth about you, and their reaction wasn't what he expected, but definitely what he needed.
"Wait, sorry, you're not dating her?" Nat asked, puzzled.
"Yeah, I'm confused, too," Sam added. "You guys act more like a couple than most couples I know."
"And she's cute, you seem perfect together."
"Well, we're not. Not, not perfect together," he amended, "I mean we're just not together. We're friends. Nothing more."
"Looks like a hell of a lot more, if you ask me..."
"So," Steve finally chimed in, "you spend all that time together, you talk about her constantly, and I saw the way you kissed her at midnight, Buck, but you're telling us it's nothing more than friendship?"
Bucky didn't know what to say. But he knew Steve knew what he was really feeling. He knew exactly what he wasn't saying.
"Do you want it to be more?" he asked. "Because from an outsider's perspective, it seems like you have everything with her but the label."
"I..." Bucky looked around, making sure you hadn't snuck back out of the bathroom yet, "yeah. I do want it to be more. She's, fuckin' perfect," he breathed a laugh as his thoughts, as they always do, strayed back to you. That familiar warmth that fills his chest anytime you're near, or hell, anytime he so much as thinks your name, returned to him. And suddenly his thoughts went back to the softness of your cheek as he held you close earlier. How pliant and perfectly your lips moved against his as you kissed him back. Not once, but twice.
Even still, he thinks back to when he told you why he was so reluctant to go on the dates his friends kept setting up for him. It was a lie when he said it was because he didn't want to date right now... well, partially. He really didn't want to date around. And his mind was focus on other things.
Other things, of course, being you.
When you nodded and told him you got it, that you felt the same way, his heart felt like it deflated by ten.
He was getting ready to finally make his move and ask you out, for real this time. But how could he do that now? He didn't want to be another guy you had to swat away, he couldn't be another one of your rejections. And you gave out plenty, always to his selfish delight if he was being honest. In fact, he can't remember the last time you actually went out on a date. It's been months...
Most of your nights are spent together. Just the two of you. But if you weren't wanting to date anyone right now, and he asked you, he couldn't be sure what you'd say. More importantly, where it'd leave you.
Bucky wasn't stupid, he wasn't blind, and he wasn't deaf. He had every confirmation he could ever want that you liked him the same way he liked you. But he didn't want to chase you away by pressuring a relationship, especially if that's not what you want.
"It's clear she likes you, too, ya know," Steve pointed out what he thought was the obvious.
"I know, I just. I don't wanna push her away by moving too fast. I don't think she's looking to date anybody right now,"
"If you don't ask, you'll never know."
He knew they were right. He needed to just bite the bullet and ask you outright. And he would.
But as he watches you glide around his kitchen, so at home, putting things back in their rightful places and throwing away the random garbage left behind, he thinks maybe not tonight… He doesn’t want to ask a question that might make you leave. But then again…what if it makes you stay?
"Chop chop, supersoldier," you admonish him as he continues to watch, staring dreamily at you. Your back is to him so you can't see his face, but you can feel the weight of his gaze.
Bucky follows your lead, tossing away the empty cups and putting away the leftover food and drinks while you wipe down the counter.
It really wasn't that much of a mess, but you're glad to get it cleaned now, so you won't have to worry about it tomorrow.
Wait...why would you be worried about it tomorrow? This isn't your apartment. God, you really are always over here, aren't you...
You turn to Bucky as he ties off the bag of trash.
You just look at him for a minute. Admiring him from mere feet away while he does the same to you. It's quiet between the two of you, but you can feel the charged silence as it brims with words unsaid.
You know what you want to do right now. But you do what you think you should instead.
"I guess I'll head out, then."
"Oh," he breathes.
"Oh?"
"I just, uh,” he shakes his head, "Never mind."
"No, what is it?" you prod, now entirely curious.
Bucky's bright eyes flash back up to yours and you see him search for what to say instead of saying what was on his mind.
"Your grapes," he remembers, turning to the fridge to get them for you, "you didn't eat them."
"Oh, yeah, well, too late now," you laugh softly.
"What's your resolution?" he asks.
"That's not how the grapes work, Bucky."
"Come on," he goads. "What's your resolution? I wanna know."
"Hmm. Well, good question," you think for a moment, watching him as he rinses off a bunch, then pulls two grapes from their stems. You mindlessly purse your lips as you think. "I want to be less scared," you start quietly, eyes meeting his intent gaze, when he looks back at you, "More confident," you add with a little nod.
"You, more confident?" he asks. "You're one of the most confident people I know. And I know Thor," he adds, getting the laugh he was hoping for from you.
You shrug, "Fake it til you make it." You give a soft, almost sad smile. It physically hurts him to see that hint of sadness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to do whatever he can to take it away. He hands you one of the two grapes and you raise a brow as you take it.
"And you?"
Your heart rate kicks up as he steps close, invading your space and standing right before you.
"I…would like to communicate better."
You huff a laugh, tittering, "Yeah, that's a good one."
"Let's both start right now," he says, holding up his grape.
"Okay. Let's," you hold up your own grape, bumping it into Bucky's as if you were toasting before you both pop your own grape into your mouth, stupid smiles on both of your faces.
As you finish, Bucky takes a step closer, surprising you as you look up to him. A bit of deja vu coming over you as you swallow hard. You wait a long breath for him to say something. And then he finally does.
"So. This is me, trying to communicate better: I'm not really sorry that I kissed you. Either time. And if I'm being entirely honest, I'd really like to kiss you again right now."
You're stunned silent and you think you can hear your blood rushing in your ears as you blink up at him.
It takes you a moment before you think you can respond, but Bucky speaks again before you do.
"But I'm not going to do that. Because I want to do this right. In fact, I've been wanting to do this right for months."
"Bucky?" you murmur quietly.
"Doll, will you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to dinner and a movie this Friday?" he asks sincerely.
Your mouth is dry and you have to force yourself to swallow hard again so you can speak. "We always do dinner and movies on Fridays," you point out.
"I mean as a date," he clarifies, holding himself to his resolution.
You stare at him, unsure of what to say. Well, that's not true. You know what you want to say. You know what you want to do. You want to say yes, and you want to lean into him again and indulge him in one more kiss, because you want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss you. But that terrified voice in the back of your head is currently telling you to make a run for home as fast as you can. You want to fight the fear, really you do.
Bucky is keeping his resolution already, you're just not sure if you can do the same.
"Uhm," you drone awkwardly.
He laughs that nervous laugh you rarely get to hear...the one you love.
"Is that a yes?" he asks with a hopeful wince.
It takes you a second and then your mouth moves before your brain does as you respond to him.
You stand there, a bit shocked at your own answer, and not entirely sure where to go from here...
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qtboni · 10 months
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hai bonni <33 this is my first reqs 4u and im sry in advance if it's kinda of cringe 😭 (i came here from yr simon fic btw nd i luv ur writinggg) wht do u think abt simon being tired as hell coming back home from his mission and literally melts into reader's arms?
HELLO DEAR ANON ! thanks for requesting and no, it's not cringe dw i LOVE it. also ty for loving my writing that literally made my day sm >< enjoy this!
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PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader
OVERVIEW: Simon melting into your arms after a rough day at work <//3
C/W: Entirely fluff + kisses
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Simon had a long day at work and was feeling tired and stressed. He started his car and drove home, feeling the tension in his shoulders and back. As he pulled into his driveway, he saw you standing on the porch, waiting for him.
You smiled and walked towards him, your arms outstretched. Simon stumbled out of his car and into your arms, letting out a deep sigh of relief. He felt the tension in his body melt away as you held him close, your warmth and comfort surrounding him.
"Welcome home, Simon," you whispered, resting your head on his chest.
"Thanks." Simon replied, wrapping his arms around you and taking a deep breath.
The warmth of your body against his, your breathing against his ear, all of it was like a balm for his soul. He let go of the tension in his muscles and let himself melt into you. Your warmth and love surrounded him, making him feel safe and protected.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling you hug him tightly.
"I missed you," he breathed, his voice barely audible. "Missed you so much."
"I missed you too, Si'," you replied, your voice full of love.
For a moment, nothing else mattered but your embrace and the love that you shared. The weight of the world seemed to fade away, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment. And in that moment, he knew that everything was going to be alright.
"Hey," you said, leading him towards the house. "Let's go inside, okay?"
You helped him inside, guiding him to the couch, where you could hear him release another deep sigh.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" you asked, sitting beside him. "Food? Um, what about some tea? I think that will help you loosen u-"
Simon reached for your hand and gently squeezed it. "Just you being here is enough, love." he replied.
"I'm always here for you, Simon," you said, giving his hand a squeeze back.
You leaned into his embrace, pressing a soft kiss against his stubble-roughened cheek. The gesture was gentle, yet full of meaning. Simon felt a warmth spreading from his cheek to the rest of his body, your love surrounding him like a blanket.
He closed his eyes and savored the moment, letting himself be fully present in your embrace. He could hear your heartbeat against his chest, and the sensation was soothing and calming.
You reached out and pulled his balaclava up, revealing his mouth. A quick peck and his face lit up with a smile, his eyes sparkling with joy.
You watched as he became more and more beaming, his mouth turning into a grin as you removed the balaclava. "There he is," you said softly, your voice filled with affection. You giggled, teasing him as you added, "My little baby soldier."
Simon's eyes were fixed on you, filled with a sense of pure adoration and love. He was grateful to have someone who accepted him for who he was, especially coming home from a long and difficult mission.
"Baby soldier?" He asked.
"Yeah, well, aren't you one, my love?"
"I am so not a baby soldier."
"Oh, damn you're right." You replied with faux surprise. You leaned into him, cupping his cheeks and squeezing them together.
Then you added, whispering as you do so, "You're my little baby lieutenant, aren't you, Si'?"
You feel Simon inhale and see him averting his gaze. You giggled at him and kissed both of his cheeks.
Simon cannot bring himself to retort any longer as he completely melts into your kisses and embrace. If you said he's a little baby lieutenant, then for god's sake, he is.
It was a moment of pure serenity, of pure love. And Simon knew that he would always cherish it, a beacon of solace in the midst of the chaos of the world.
And then, as if driven by an instinctive need to express the depth of his emotions, he pulled you closer, holding you in his arms, his touch firm and passionate.
"I love you," he murmured, his voice low and hoarse. But there was no question about the sincerity of his words, the longing in his eyes as he looked at you. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.
"I love you too," you replied, your own voice just as genuine. And with those words, Simon knew that everything was going to be alright.
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ao3commentoftheday · 13 days
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What do AO3's Archive Warnings mean?
Archive Warnings can be confusing to new users, both readers and writers alike, so let's take a moment and break them down. We'll start at the top of the list - which is ordered alphabetically.
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Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings - when AO3 was being designed (by fans, for fans) there was a debate about requiring warnings. At the time, they were not a standard expectation, so some people didn't want warnings to be mandatory on every individual fic on the Archive. Other people did.
This warning - stating that the author was making a choice not to provide a warning - was a compromise. A creator could choose not to apply a warning to their fic and readers would then know to be wary because it would be possible that any of the warnings might be needed, or multiple of them, or none of them.
This warning (which I'll abbreviate to CCNTW from here on out) is also a good catch-all for other things that a creator might want to warn for that don't have a specific Archive Warning. Authors can also provide warnings of different kinds in the Additional Tags on a work, so it's a good idea to read those carefully as well.
You can read up on more of the history of this warning on Fanlore.
Graphic Depictions of Violence - This applies to stories where the descriptions of violence are very detailed and probably gory. The violent scenes will likely be brutal and easily imagined. This warning is generally accompanied by a rating of either M or E - meaning that the content in the work is aimed at adults only.
Some authors find it difficult to decide whether the violence in their fic is graphic enough to warrant using this warning, so they use CCNTW instead. For some fandoms, the source material is already full of graphic violence and so they might also use an Additional Tag to give more information such as, "canon typical violence"
Major Character Death - This can be interpreted in different ways. It might mean:
a character dies, and that character is a major character in canon (even if they might be a minor character in the fic).
a character dies, and that character is a major character in the fic (even if they might be a minor character in canon).
the character death in the story is a major component of the story or a particularly intense part of the story.
It is possible that the character who dies does not stay dead in the fic, in which case the author may decide to use an Additional Tag like "temporary character death" to provide more information.
It is also possible that an author will decide to use CCNTW instead because they want to avoid giving spoilers for the story.
No Archive Warnings Apply - This means that none of the other warnings in this list apply to this fic. The fic may still be given a rating that indicates it is for an adult audience.
Rape / Non-Con - This refers to different scenarios in which a character does not consent to sexual activity.
Non-Con is short for non-consent, which is a term from role-playing communities in which not giving consent is part of the sexual game. Non-con can also refer to the fact that in a fictional story, we might see a character verbally state that they don't want to have sex and then read their inner monologue in which they express that they do.
The various interactions and interpretations involved in consent can get very complex and nuanced, and some creators might use CCNTW because they aren't sure if what they're writing rises to the level of this warning.
Underage - This warning refers to stories that describe sexual activity (more than just kissing) involving characters who are under 18 years old. This one is also up for interpretation when it comes to creatures, monsters, mythological beings, aliens that live for thousands of years, etc.
---
All of the above warnings will be used a little differently by different creators and by different fandoms, and as you read more on the site you will likely notice these differences.
However, if you see a work on the Archive that should have one of these warnings but doesn't, you can report that work to the Policy Questions & Abuse team by scrolling to the bottom of the page and clicking the link to their reporting form.
To help the volunteers who manage these reports, you can give them some additional information. If it's a multi-chaptered work, let them know which chapter to look in or give them a keyword or phrase they can search for to find the relevant scene(s). If the volunteer decides a warning is required, they'll contact the creator and ask them to add it. If they decide that it doesn't, they'll let you know.
If the work has Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings on it, that includes all other warnings and that fic shouldn't be reported for missing one.
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springseasonie · 1 year
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the walls are thin | NJM + LJN (M)
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Roommate Jeno x fem reader x Roommate Jaemin
Summary: both Jaemin and Jeno have always had a thing for you and were never shy about it either. You always play hard to get, but all of your playing was going to catch up with you sooner or later.
Warnings: sexual content, dubcon themes, porn with little plot, horrifically Jaemin biased (it just happened that way), unprotected sex, kitchen sex, oral (male and fem receiving), degrading, praising, voyeurism, exhibitionism (if you squint), snowballing, mean dom jeno, soft dom Jaemin, literally just filth, proofread but may still contain errors
Word count: 7,4k
A/N: I had a completely different idea for this pairing, but I didn't like here it was going so I completely scrapped it and came up with this. Hope y'all like it it's my first time writing a 3some dynamic so be patient with me lol. Also I wanna try a new picture situation for fics soooo yeah idk if I'll be doing it for long. Probably just for multiple members fics. Pics aren't mine. Feedback is welcomed as always this was long overdue I was supposed to post this days ago
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The walls are pretty thin in your apartment, which is why you're so grateful when everyone is gone. You can't escape the constant sounds of your roommates laughing, talking, doing God knows what. You enjoy the peace and quiet, especially at night. The only drawback is that there is virtually no privacy.
You can't count the amount of times both Jeno and Jaemin asked you about conversations you had with people on the phone the night before. It always left you a bit shocked and freaked out. They never told you how much they heard or knew, just that they heard you. And on mornings like this - ones where you wake up groggy from getting yourself off - they never skip a beat to tell you they heard you.
"You're really loud at night you know," Jaemin said, pouring milk in his cereal.
"What are you talking about?" You yawned, covering your mouth with your hand. It's a Saturday, which means you have nothing but time to spare.
"When you're touching yourself. You should do a better job at keeping quiet," Jeno answered as he walked into the kitchen.
"Why were you listening?" Your tone was monotonous, still trying to fully wake up from your sleep. Nothing they said had any impact on you anymore. Their non-stop flirting and crude comments don't make you cringe and squirm like they used to, completely used to whatever games they were constantly trying to play.
"I didn't have a choice," Jaemin said, mouth full of cereal.
"We always have choices in life." You leaned on the edge of the counter, crossing your arms. Jeno brushed his hair back, biceps bulging in his right long sleeve top. It was no secret that even though you kept turning them down, they were eye candy. When you told your friends about them, they wondered how you were going to live with 2 men that looked like they were meant to be male strippers.
It's easy for you, really. Just get to know them. Getting to know people always helps get rid of the initial attraction, and they definitely made it easy. Except it came back 10 times stronger. And you really didn't mean for it to happen really, it just happened, and you're annoyed that it happened. But is it really your fault?
"Just how you made a choice to come out completely naked," Jeno questioned, looking you up and down.
"I'm wearing a tank top and shorts. Be serious." You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the counter. You turned around, reaching up to get a bowl only to be pressed against the counter again
"Let me help you out," Jeno said in your ear. He pressed himself against you, pushing his bulge into your ass. Jeno grabbed the bowl out of your hand, setting it down in front of you with the sweetest smile. "And I meant in other ways that don't involve getting bowls from cabinets."
Jeno backed away from you, and for the first time you can confidently say you didn't want him to move. But he'll never know that. Neither of them will ever know the effect they have on you for as long as you're in the same household. But sometimes you really wonder if it's worth it, not letting them touch you in the ways you want. Not letting them do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted. It didn't really matter anyways, they're just 2 people out of the 8 billion on the planet.
"You are so spoiled you know that."
You jump, surprised at the sound of Jaemin's voice near your ear. You forgot he was still in the kitchen being lost in thought about Jeno's body pressed against yours. "What do you mean by that?"
"You have 2 guys constantly trying to fuck you, and you keep refusing," he says, chuckling softly. "It's honestly annoying."
You rolled your eyes pouring cereal in your bowl. "Then stop. I keep refusing and you keep coming back."
"But I like the chase."
You turned around, immediately being faced with Jaemin's eyes being directly on your tits. His gaze made you feel small sometimes, always looking at you like you were a piece of meat. But you liked the way he looked at you. They way his gaze would linger, never shy to tell you exactly what he wanted with no words.
"All men like chasing," you replied, pouring the milk in your bowl.
"Not as much as me. When I catch you, you'll be wishing I didn't," he mumbled.
"You're funny."
"I've been told. And I tend to laugh women right out of their clothes." His witty responses never fail to amaze you. He always had a response for everything, never speechless although sometimes you wish he was.
You turned around, leaning on the counter as you shoved a spoon full of cereal in your mouth. "You know," you started, "sometimes I wish the 2 of you were man enough to do something."
Jaemin raised his brow, crossing his arms. "Is that some kind of challenge?"
"No, just a thought. I'm going to my room." You walked out the kitchen and down the tiny hallway, already hearing Jeno's music through the walls. You wish you weren't so evil, but there would be no fun in your life. Because as much as you tell them to stop, you just want them to keep telling you over and over again how much they want it, how much they need you.
"If you ever need help, remember I'm next door," Jaemin called out behind you.
"Never gonna happen."
-
"Fuck, come on!"
You've been playing video games since your conversation with Jaemin ended, and honestly you wish you hadn't even started. You've been doing nothing but yelling at your screen and pounding your desk. And you just so happened to get knocked out again.
"I can't take this shit anymore," you groaned, cradling your head in your arms. Just as you were about to throw your headset off, you heard a knock on your door. "Come in."
Jaemin walked in, face puffy like he just woke up from a nap. But you couldn't even keep looking at his face, not when he was wearing that one shirt that made him look bigger than he already was. And- oh. He wasn't wearing anything under his basketball shorts, was he?
"You're too loud." His voice was deep and groggy, the sound of it going straight to your core.
"Sorry. This game is just-"
"Annoying? I've heard you say that millions of times already. Just stop playing it." Jaemin leaned on your door frame, shaking his hair from his face. It was taking everything in you to not say what you wanted to. He's attractive and he knows it. He knows what he does to you and it drives you insane. "Just keep it down okay?" Jaemin turns on his heels, walking out of your room, door knob in his hand.
"I'll try. You know how I get when I'm stressed."
Stressed. That was all he heard. "You're stressed?"
"Yeah, just a little," you admit.
"Let me help you," he said, coming back into your room.
You turned around in your chair, raising your brow at his statement. "And how would you do that?"
Jaemin walked up to you, looking down at you with sleepy and lustful eyes. Silence filling the space between you. He needed you, even when he felt like he was gonna pass out. And he would take any chance to get you, only if you would let him. "Let me give you the best head in your life."
The request shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did, but the slight twitch of your right leg whenever you were turned on would always betray you. You scanned his face, eyes moving down his body. "Are you hard?"
"Yeah," he answered honestly. "But you don't have to do anything. I promise."
"I wasn't planning on it," you answered, turning around.
"You still didn't answer my question."
"You didn't ask me a question."
"Can I please eat you out," Jaemin repeated as if he was sounding out a word. You could hear the smile in his voice, knowing that if you turned back around, he would be looking at you with that shit eating grin he always does to get his way.
"I doubt you could find the clit, let alone make me cum."
Jaemin snickered at your statement, turning your chair around to face him. "Wanna bet?"
"I'm not letting you anywhere near her, especially not when Jeno's in the other room," you deny.
"Jeno would sleep through a war if he could. I think we'll be okay."
Jaemin smiled to himself watching you turn your chair back around to face your monitor.
"You know that's a lie, and I said what I said." You felt a small piece of you die inside when Jaemin crawled under your desk, face directly in between your legs. He couldn't help himself, and he knew there would only be so many times you pushed him away. But you're so predictable, it's almost funny. You love his sleepy voice and his puffy face, and the only reason he knows this is because you can't speak quietly on the phone.
He would listen to your conversations, listen to the way you talked about him, the things you said about him to your friends. He knows you're two faced, telling him one thing and saying another to other people. Jaemin doesn't know if it's a mistake, especially because you out of all people know how thin the walls are, but he doesn't care.
Jaemin pushed your legs open, half lidded eyes staring at your clothed cunt. "I swear you wore these just to provoke me," he mumbled.
"J-Jaemin wait.." you were completely overwhelmed, a little taken back with how fast things were moving. But the way his hands traveled from your legs to your ass was almost enough to make you forget the kind of game you were playing with him.
Jaemin pulled you closer to him, hands gripping you as he buried his face between your legs. "God, you smell so fucking good," he said, inhaling deeply. "I bet you taste even better."
At this point, you were sure Jeno could hear every word coming out his mouth. It shouldn't have turned you on so much, but it did. Was he listening? Is he jealous, mad it's Jaemin who got to you first? Was he touching himself to the thought of you? You wanted to see. You wanted to hear him. You wanted-
"Stop thinking about him." He practically growled.
You gulped, brows shooting to your forehead. "W-what?"
"I know you're wondering if he's really sleeping, if he can hear you." Jaemin's nose nudged on your clothed bud making you gasp softly. "You don't have to wonder. These walls are paper thin."
You didn't protest when he pulled your shorts and panties to your ankles, brian too preoccupied with the fact that you were about to get eaten out after a long time. But even in these circumstances, you couldn't pause your shit talking. "Still don't think you can make me cum."
Jaemin let out a soft chuckle. He didn't answer you or say anything, just pulled you to the edge of your seat and attached his mouth to your core like a moth to a flame. His tongue moved slowly at first, lapping at all your arousal. His nose nudged against your clit, making you shudder as you let out a soft sigh. But you can't give him the satisfaction yet, so you hold it back. You don't look down at him, you do anything to distract yourself from the man between your legs.
Jaemin doesn't care about your attempts to ignore him, all he cares about is proving you wrong like he always does. His thumbs massage the insides of your thighs as he grips your legs tight savoring every feel of the soft flesh. The speed of Jaemin’s tongue quickened as his eyes trailed up your body, his nose continuously nudging your clit. He can hear how much you're trying to stifle your moans not wanting him to know how much you like it.
"Let me hear you."
You kept your mouth closed, biting your lip hard as he continued licking at you. But when he directed his attention to your clit, a reluctant whine escaped your lips. You could feel Jaemin smile against your skin, knowing that you already lost the game you were trying so hard to win. You peeked under your desk for a millisecond only to make direct eye contact with him as he sucked your clit softly. He sucked harder, making you roll your eyes back at the sudden sensation.
"It feels good, doesn't it?"
You still didn't answer, closing your eyes to avoid meeting his own. Jaemin flicked his tongue against you faster than before. You were way too sensitive at this point, every movement he made pulling you closer and closer to an orgasm. But you couldn't cum just yet, not when that was the only thing you were fighting to not do. But god, it just felt so good, too good.
"If you're gonna ignore me, I'm gonna stop," he said.
"N-no." That was the first thing you said in a while. You couldn't believe it, but you needed him to keep going. You wanted him to keep going. Haven't felt the touch of a man in months, this felt like heaven.
"Then say it," he said.
"Say what?"
"What do you want me to do?
"Keep..eating me out.. obviously."
Jaemin chuckled, running his fingertips along your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "I'm already doing that. Tell me what you want me to do Y/N."
His tone was softer, less demanding than before. And now you knew what he was getting at. You knew what he wanted you to say, but you didn't want to give into him too easily. But you needed this so bad. "Make me cum," you answer quietly, voice trembling slightly.
"Say that again. I don't think Jeno heard you clear enough," he teased. You shook your head, refusing to speak. He placed a kiss on your clit, laughing softly when you let out a small sigh. "Are you a good girl?"
Reluctantly, you nodded your head, heat rushing to your face.
"Then say it again."
"Make me cum."
"Of course. Anything for you." Jaemin went at you like a starved man, licking and sucking and kissing every part of you, not leaving a single area untouched. You couldn't force yourself to stay quiet, not when only his tongue was working such wonders on you. Your hands naturally made their way to his hair, pushing it back to see his face better. Jaemin's eyes stared right into yours, eyes blown with lust.
"J-Jaemin," you whimpered softly as he flicked his tongue fast on your sensitive bud. He moaned, licking and slurping up your arousal while pulling your body closer to his. At this point, your hips were starting to fall off the edge of the seat. "I-I'm gonna fall, Jaemin."
Jaemin swiftly adjusted you on your seat, mouth never leaving you. He looked up at you, lids low. The sounds filing the room were sinful, the slurping sounds coupled with both of your moans making your head spin. Your hands tugged at his hair softly at every movement of his tongue.
"I bet you need something in you, don't you?" Jaemin's voice went from your ears right to your cunt. He smiled to himself watching you squeeze around nothing, desperate for anything. "How do my fingers sound?"
"Good Jaemin, fuck," you sighed, almost a little too quickly.
"Someone's a little excited," he laughed. "A little too excited for someone who told me I couldn't make her cum."
Jaemin lined two fingers up, pushing them into you slowly. You could almost cry at the feeling, so sensitive anything could send you over the edge. "M-more," you begged.
Jaemin raised a brow, wicked smile on his lips. "You want another one?"
"Please.."
Jaemin added a third finger, pumping them slowly. Sometimes, he's grateful that he loves giving pleasure, especially because of moments like this. You were so pretty above him, moaning out his name and practically melting in front of him. Your hard, stubborn exterior practically shattered as soon as he put his hands on you. It's funny how fast he got you to beg for him even though he knew how bad you wanted it already.
Jaemin licked at your clit while pumping his fingers inside you with a mission, a look of pure bliss spread over your face. "You're so pretty," he breathed out. "I always thought you were pretty."
You couldn't say anything, especially not when he started to finger you faster and his tongue slowed, arousal leaking all over your gaming chair. Your moans and whimpers started to grow in volume. There was no way you could stay quiet enough for Jeno not to hear now. Jaemin sucked your clit hard, making you groan loudly, tugging at his hair. "Jaemin you're gonna make me cum," you whimpered.
"I thought I couldn't." He pumped his fingers in and out quicker, grinning as you came closer and closer. "Maybe I should stop."
"J-Jaemin do not f-fuckin stop." You're brows knit, breath increasing every time he pumped his fingers in and out of you. A tight ball formed in your stomach, muscles beginning to tense under his touch. Jaemin gave your clit one hard lick, making you fall apart instantly. You came on his fingers, clenching on them tightly as you let out a shaky moan.
"That's it, let it out," he cooed. "You did so well for me Y/N."
Jaemin took his fingers out of you, sucking them while staring into your eyes. Your hazy expression was making him go crazy, and he knew he shouldn't keep going but he really couldn't help himself.
Jaemin threw your legs over his shoulders, latching his arms over them before you could move away. "This will be quick okay."
You whined when his tongue came in contact with you again, wiggling its way in your core. Jaemin moaned softly, tasting your cum on his tongue. Your weak pushes at his head were cute, so cute that he had to keep going.
"Jaemin please," you whined,"I..I can't.."
He kept staring at you, not intending to move away or stop. "Be a good girl and cum for me." His tongue was attacking your clit at this point, moving over the bud too fast for you to keep up. Jaemin's grip was so strong you couldn't even squirm away from the chair if you wanted to. He sucked hard, the feeling shooting through your body making your hands and legs weak.
Your body trembled when you came again, soft cries of curses spilling from your lips. And Jaemin still didn't stop. He licked up every single drop, not wanting to waste a bit. He didn't know when you were going to let him do this again even though he knew you would come back to him eventually. At this point, he was pretty sure he was addicted to the taste of you, scent of you, just you.
Jaemin finally loosened the grip on your legs, letting them fall off his shoulders. The both of you were breathing heavily since the adrenaline was still rushing. He didn't say anything and neither did you even when he came from under the table. Jaemin stood up, large figure looking over you as you tried to catch your breath.
"I'm going in my room," he said,"I'll..see you later."
You let him leave, not saying a word as you slumped in your seat. You were never going to live this moment down, letting him go down on you like that. And practically control you. And now that he's away, you're going to have to be tortured with hearing him touch himself in the next room over.
But all you could really say at the moment was that it in fact was the best head of your life.
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It'd been 3 days since Jaemin completely overpowered you, beating you at your own game. And being forced to watch him go on with his day like nothing happened was driving you crazy, especially when he kept dropping little references of the events.
What's even worse is Jeno pretending he didn't hear anything. Pretending you weren't practically screaming Jaemin's name 3 days ago. But he did keep staring at you and you couldn't tell what he was thinking. You never could. Jeno was always good at hiding it until he wanted you to know.
And now you're alone in your apartment with him while Jaemin is at work for the night. The last thing you wanted to be was alone with Jeno, especially when he was in a bad mood like now.
You walked into the kitchen wanting to get something to eat without disturbance, but Jeno was already there. You looked at him, body leaning against the counter with his head in his hand. You and Jeno hadn't really had an actual conversation in 3 days. You were a bit afraid of him saying something that would remind you of the sinful things that took place in your room.
You walked past him, not really paying him any mind, but you could still feel his eyes on your back. And just as you were about to reach into the cabinet, he said something you were definitely not expecting.
"You're such a bitch."
You turned around, brow raised so high it could probably hit the roof. "I'm a what now?"
"You're a bitch," he repeated. Jeno looked at you with a straight face. There was nothing in his body language that suggested that he was doing this to mess with you. He was dead serious.
You squint your eyes, scoffing at his words. "Don't call me a bitch."
Jeno gave you a dry laugh, taking his hand from his face. "You don't think it's bitchy to have sex with your roommate when your other roommate was in the other room?"
"Are you mad it wasn't you," you snapped. You watched as Jeno lifted his body off the counter and walked to you slowly. He placed his arm beside your body, leaning close over yours, a dark smirk written across his face.
"I'm just surprised you gave into him so easily seeing that you deny me all the time." He couldn't keep eye contact with you, especially not when you were in the kitchen in nothing but leggings and that goddamn tank top. The white one you constantly wore with nothing underneath. You knew exactly what you were doing, and that's something Jeno always found attractive about you.
"My eyes are up here," you said, lifting his chin to look at you.
Jeno clicked his tongue annoyed. "You always try to put on this tough act, and it's really annoying."
"Can't be as annoying as this conversation."
"Then walk away, unless you wanna keep having this conversation," he said. You hesitated to move, making Jeno laugh. He pulled you back, pushing you on the counter.
"I was walking away," you said, trying to sound completely unphased when you were completely turned on by it.
"You just love playing hard to get, don't you," he mumbled, leaning into your neck. "You love it when we chase. Don't lie." You didn't speak, you just let him kiss your neck softly. He pressed his body against yours, parting your legs with his knee. Jeno wraps a hand around your neck, chuckling softly when your breath hitches. "I can't believe I was letting you walk around here like this without touching you," he mumbled.
Jenos other hand made its way to your ass, groping you roughly. He watched your face, taking in the slight pleasure you felt being at his mercy. Jeno tightened the hold on your neck slightly, earning a soft gasp from you.
"If you're gonna do something, do it," you grumbled.
"What if I wanna take my time with you hm? I bet you'd like that. I mean, you did 3 days ago," he teased. Jeno moved his hand from your ass to between your legs, rubbing you through your leggings. His brow arched at the sticky wet sensation covering his fingers through the fabric. "You aren't even wearing panties. It's like you came in here with the intention of me fucking you."
With one quick movement, Jeno's hand was in your leggings, rubbing you in circles slowly. "It's just funny that you're so quiet now. Make all those pretty noises you made for pretty boy." Jeno pressed his fingers harder into you. He watched as you began to lose yourself with that sweet sinister smile of his. You didn't stop him when he pulled your tank top up, immediately groping your left breast. "God I love these pretty tits."
Your panting was only getting faster, his hand on your clit rubbing you faster while fondling your breast, you could barely hear anything he was saying. You were gonna cum quick, all you needed was a little more and-
"I think I'll stop here. You seem to be enjoying yourself too much."
It's embarrassing how fast you stopped him from pulling his hand out your pants, forcing it back down to where it was before. "Jeno, please don't play around," you pleaded.
He snickered at your pleading, fingers immediately making their way back between your legs. Jeno slowly pushed two inside you, a shaky moan leaving your mouth. He pumped his fingers in you, kissing your lips softly. Having no idea what to do with your hands, you held onto his arms, biceps flexing in your hands. "Jeno," you moaned softly.
"You liked that hm," he said in your ear. "You like it when I touch you like this?"
"Y-yeah."
He fingered you faster, the palm of his hand stimulating your clit at the same time. You held onto his arms tighter, closing your eyes as you let your head fall on his shoulder. The moans and whimpers fell through your lips so easily under his touch. Between his hand on your chest and the one in your pants you could barely concentrate on your surroundings.
So when Jaemin suddenly opened the door when he was supposed to get home three hours from now, startled couldn't even begin to describe how you felt. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at your panicked face. Jeno kept going, not giving a single fuck of who just came in the apartment. But even though you were startled, no matter how compromising the position you were in was, it still managed to turn you on even more.
"Jesus, you're a slut aren't you," Jeno teased. "You love the fact that he came in here unannounced with my fingers in your pussy?"
You shook your head, burying your face in his neck. "S-shut up."
"Are we gonna do this now," Jaemin asked, finally breaking his silence.
You looked over at him, confusion and pleasure on your face. "Do what?"
"I guess we can. But I need her to cum first." Jeno and Jaemin were talking like you weren't even there, saying things you didn't even understand. But every time you thought to ask questions, a moan left your lips, making you squeeze his arm again. "Cum Y/N," he said in your ear lowly. "Cum for me."
Your legs are weak, the only thing holding your body up is Jeno's hand under you. He moves his hand faster, palm rubbing your clit harder. "S-shit.." You came hard, grasping his biceps for dear life before you fell into Jeno’s shoulder.
"I'll never get enough of that face," Jaemin mumbled, teeth toying with his lip as he watched you.
Jeno pulled his hand from your leggings, sticking his fingers in your mouth almost immediately. "Suck."
And you did, swirling your tongue around the digits like you were gonna get a grade for it. Jeno watched you, his usual smirk spreading on his face.
"Fuck, I can't watch this anymore." Jaemin walked over to both of you. Jeno moved out of the way, letting Jaemin pick you up and throw your body over his shoulder.
"Wait, what are you guys doing," you panic.
"Don't play dumb you know exactly what's going on," Jeno answered. They walked to your room, practically kicking the door open. You let out a tiny scream when Jaemin dropped you on your bed with no warning, looking at them completely lost.
"You're so cute, like a lost puppy," Jaemin said. He took his hoodie off, having nothing underneath it. Jeno made quick work of his own shirt, throwing it elsewhere in the room. "Are you gonna be good for us?"
"I-I.." you were in complete shock. This was something you fantasized about for way too long, touching yourself to the thought of both of them taking care of you at the same time. You craved it way more than they would ever know. But everything was happening way too fast. So when Jaemin pushed you down on bed, pulling your leggings off, it was like whiplash. Jeno took your tank off quickly, throwing it in a random place.
Jaemin sat himself behind you, leaning on your head board as he pulled your body to him. Your back was pressed against his chest as he wrapped his big arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "You're so beautiful," he mumbled. He kissed your neck slowly while Jeno laid between your legs, mouth already attaching to your core.
You let out a small gasp as the feeling of Jeno’s mouth and the feeling of Jaemin's hands on your chest clouded your senses. Jeno ate you out like it was his last meal ever, not giving you enough time to recover from the prior activities in the kitchen. His tongue ravaged you, moans and groans sending vibrations to your clit like crazy. And Jaemin's constant kissing and humming against your skin was not making it better.
"You know I'm kind of a pervert," Jaemin whispered, a small smile on his lips. You were leaning on him, your head falling back on to his shoulder as Jeno worked his tongue on you. Jaemin stared down at the sight between your legs, eyelids getting heavy with lust watching the show in front of him. "I like to watch."
His fingers tweaked and pinched at your nipples, unholy noises spilling from your lips easily. He was growing harder and harder, his bulge rubbing on your ass. "Doesn't it feel good," he whispered in your ear. His soft voice sent butterflies to your stomach, a trembling breath unintentionally making its way out.
"Y-yeah."
"Tell him it feels good." Jaemin rolled your nipples in his fingers making you grip your blanket.
"I-it feels good Jeno," you moaned softly.
"Good girl. You're always so good for me." Jeno hooked his arms around your legs, tugging your body a little lower. Jaemin snickered at your surprised expression, hands still working on your chest. "God you're so cute."
Jeno's tongue moved faster, groaning softly against you constantly. You bit your lip starting to grind on his tongue. Your constant moans filled the room, every single sense becoming heightened when you feel yourself starting to approach your orgasm.
Jaemin tilted your head to him, kissing you messily. His tongue invaded your mouth, dancing with yours as Jeno kept going. He knew you were close, he could tell by the way your breathing was picking up and your trembling hands on the blanket. "You're close, aren't you baby," he mumbled on your lips.
You nodded fast, brows knitting when Jeno sucked your clit hard. Jaemin watched your face as your eyes rolled back and body tense at the sensation.
"Look at me when you cum okay?"
"O-oh my god," you moaned loudly. Your hand shot up to his wrist, squeezing it tightly as your body tense up even more. You couldn’t stop yourself, grinding on Jeno's tongue even harder as you came.
"That's it baby, keep looking at me with those pretty eyes." Jaemin kissed you, biting your lip softly as you moaned into his mouth. His hands left your chest, rubbing them down your naked body.
Jeno stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You always knew he had the body of a Greek god but goodness, it didn't hit you hard until now. Jeno tugged his sweats and boxers off, letting his length spring free. He was big, bigger than you thought. You've felt him through his pants many times on the occasions that he slipped behind you or something. But Jesus, it's nothing like seeing the real thing.
"Face down, ass up," Jeno ordered.
Clumsily, you pulled your body out of Jaemin's arms and flipped yourself over. Trying to get yourself on your knees, you slipped, face falling directly into Jaemin's lap. Jaemin gave you a soft chuckle, hand patting your head as you fixed yourself.
"Where's your condoms," Jeno asked.
"Fuck all of that. I need you Jeno," you whined. You subconsciously wiggled your hips, begging for him to take you right there. You've never been so needy for something in your life, but he managed to bring it out of you.
"You need me?" His tone was condescending and mean, but he had that sweet smile on his face. "How bad do you need me?" He took his length, guiding it up and down your slit.
"Real bad," you breathed out, pushing more against him. "So bad, I could die right now."
"You always had a way with words," he mumbled. Jeno pushed his tip into you slowly, making you smile at the stretch. His brows furrowed as he pushed the rest of himself in you, feeling you squeeze tightly around him.
"Fuck you're so big," you whined softly.
Jeno rocked his hips into you, every movement making you moan softly. Your head was between Jaemin's lap as he watched the other male fuck you from behind. You looked up, feeling a small tap on your head. Jaemin was looking down at you with a smirk on his face.
"You didn't think I was gonna let you and Jeno have all the fun did you?"
Lifting yourself on your elbows, moans and whines falling from your mouth as you pull Jaemin out his sweats. He was just a s big as Jeno, and he knew it. The way he was looking down at you, he knew you would have a hard time. Little did he know you liked having a hard time.
"Spit on it."
His words made you clench around Jeno, making the man behind you groan softly. You did as you were told, letting a ball of saliva fall from your lips onto his tip.
"You listen so well," Jaemin praised.
You were so fucked out of your mind at this point, you wanted nothing but to be praised by him. You licked around his tip, looking up at him for his approval with begging eyes. You sunk your head down more, getting more of him into your mouth, sucking him softly. Your brows furrowed, moaning on his length as Jeno started to speed up his thrust. Jaemin could happily die right here, one of his biggest fantasies unraveling in a way he never imagined. And you were just so open to letting him use you, to letting Jeno use you.
His lids hung low, soft moans and pants leaving his lips as you bobbed your head following Jeno's rhythm. "We should've done this ages ago," Jaemin mumbled, fingers running through your hair. He grasped it hard, following your movements with his hand, but if you kept going, he was surely going to cum in your mouth. Jaemin pulled you off of him slowly, knitting his brows at the loss of your mouth. "You're way too good at that," he huffed out.
Jeno's low grunts mixed with your moans and whimpers made Jaemin grow harder and harder every second. Jeno pounded into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room.
"You love this don't you," Jeno breathed.
"Yeah." Your voice was shaky, about to break at any moment.
"All it took was my fingers to break you. God, you're a slut."
You needed more, and you couldn't take the sight of Jaemin sitting in front of you, hard length sitting there untouched. Jaemin's eyes shot to you as you took him in your mouth, immediately bobbing your head. "You really..must want me to cum in your mouth."
You pulled off of him, a string of spit connecting your mouth and his tip. "Y-yeah," you moaned. "Use me."
There was something in Jaemin's eyes that changed. Without a word he gasped as he pushed himself back into your mouth. You opened your mouth as far as you could letting him fuck your mouth like you were his own personal fleshlight. Your eyes were screwed shut, the impact of Jeno inside you and Jaemin constantly hitting the back of your throat sending you into a sensory overload. You were so sensitive, everything was starting to hurt, but it hurt so good.
You gagged, tears immediately gathering in your water line. Jaemin pulled you off him, breathing heavily seeing you caught and moaning at Jeno's movements. Spit was dribbling down your chin, but it's not like you could've known anyway. Not when Jeno was fucking you like he wanted to get you pregnant. You wouldn't mind it honestly, and you know he wouldn't either.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Jeno grunted through his teeth. He lifted his knee, one foot laying flat on the mattress to get a better angle. "Gonna cum deep inside this pretty pussy."
At this point you were sure you weren't going to be able to walk the next day or the day after that. You felt your body becoming tense, a tight ball forming in your stomach. "J-Jeno, I'm gonna cum," you whimpered loudly.
"Open your mouth."
Jaemin's voice startled you for a second, completely overtaken with the feeling of Jeno. You glanced down seeing Jaemin stroke himself fast. He looked so pretty when he was about to cum. The sweat glistened on his forehead, mouth hanging open, pretty pink cock pulsing in his hand. You opened your mouth, panting loudly feeling yourself come closer and closer to your orgasm.
And just as Jaemin came, letting the thick ropes of cum hit your tongue and face all over, so did you, squeezing tightly around Jeno like you were holding him in for dear life. Loud moans and whimpers bounced off the walls while your hands gripped your blanket so tight it hurt. But Jeno wouldn't stop, not until he came deep in you.
"How does a mini me running around here sound," he chuckled darkly.
"Good, so fucking good." You were delirious. You didn't even know what you were agreeing to at this point, not until he gripped your hips hard and painted your insides white. The panic didn't set in until 2 seconds later, your brows knitting in worry, but you also felt yourself liking it. You liked that he didn't pull out, and it felt so good. Like he owned you.
Your body slumped as Jeno pulled out of you, breathing heavily into your arms. You shuddered, feeling him push his seed back into you as it fell down your thighs.
Jaemin couldn't wait for you to catch your breath, getting up when Jeno moved off the bed behind you. Jaemin took your body, flipping you into your back with one quick movement.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," he said, stripping completely naked in front of you.
You couldn't even speak, your throat was too sore to say anything and your brain was completely fried. Jaemin lifted your legs, spreading them gently.
"I'm not like him," he said, tone sweeter than you expected. "I won’t fuck you so rough." His eyes scanned your body, going from your cum covered face to your pretty chest, to your cunt. "But I will make you scream my name."
Jaemin lined his length with your core, pushing himself in you in one swift motion. You held your legs up, staring at where the both of you met. When Jaemin started thrusting into you, you couldn’t keep your voice down. Every movement he made felt like heaven. The raspy whimpers that left your mouth were music to his ears - it made him want to fuck you till your couldn't even remember your name.
"You're so good for me," he breathed, smiling when you nodded fast.
You looked beside you, seeing Jeno watch the both of you, touching himself. "Come here," you breathed.
Jeno bit his lip softly, doing what you said. You moved his hand, replacing it with your own as you lifted your head, wrapping your lips around his cock. You looked up at him, batting your lashes as you sucked him off. Jeno can't remember a time where he was turned on this much in his life. You were just so good, so weak, so careful even when you were being fucked way past your limit.
"She's still so tight after you fucked her open." Jaemin snapped his hips into you hard, making you groan loudly around Jeno. "What a fucking slut."
Jeno chuckled darkly looking at your desperate soft expression. It was funny to him, how you still managed to look cute and innocent with a dick in your mouth and cum on your face.
Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes as they both rocked into you at different yet quick paces, causing your mind to spin miles a minute. “God she’s so fucking good for us, taking both our cocks so well. You feel good baby?”
Jeno’s words caused you to shake in pleasure, moaning around him in response. There was no way you’d ever be able to feel this good with anyone else. You didn’t just feel good, you felt fucking euphoric.
“Fuck Y/N I’m so close” you let out a muffed cry as Jaemin’s hand found it’s way to your sensitive clit. Rolling and pinching it between his fingers. The desperation in Jaemin’s voice paired with your over sensitive body from your first orgasm created a whole new level of pleasure. You were close…And they both knew it.
The way you tightened around Jaemin and the high pitched moans breaking past your cock stuffed mouth was a dead giveaway. “Are you going to come for us again Y/N? Is being double stuffed making you feel good?” Something about the tone of Jeno’s voice was just what you needed to be sent over the edge.
Your orgasm shook through you in waves. “F-fuck I’m cumming Y/N. Take it well baby.” Jaemin rocked into you before stilling his hips. Shooting his seed deep into you with breathy groans.
Not being too far behind Jeno’s pace became sloppy. Once a consistent quick pace he now fucked your mouth with unsteady thrusts. Jeno held your head in place as he came in your mouth making sure you took every single drop he had to give. Once he was done he slowly pulled himself out of your mouth.
Jaemin pulled out of your pussy causing you to clench at the sudden loss of him. Suddenly your mind felt as if it was on autopilot. As you felt his cum leak out of your hole you pulled Jeno down into a heated kiss feeling him groan from the taste of him on your tongue. “Oh? Forgetting all about me now?”
Jaemin pouted as you pulled away from Jaemin weakly reaching out to the man. Smiling he leaned down kissing you passionately. “Did you have fun Y/N?” Not having too much energy left you nodded leaning your head onto his shoulder. “Cmon Y/N let’s get you cleaned up.”
The three of you would definitely need to have a conversation later about their little ambush but for now you think I’d be okay to let it slide.
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talkdutchtome · 5 months
Note
Do you know this tiktok trend where girls tell guys about paying at the mechanic's for premium air for their cars 😭 could you write a fic where y/n does that prank to Max?
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"Premium Air?" - Max Verstappen
pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )
genre . . . fluff )
wc . . . 825 words )
read my other work . . . here )
request something . . . here )
“Oh Maxy, I was supposed to mention, I took your car to be serviced. I know you’ve been so busy lately I thought I’d do that and give you one less thing to worry about” You said to your boyfriend, trying your hardest to suppress any giggles that wanted to escape. Your phone sat propped up on the bookshelf, strategically hidden so Max didn't notice.  
You had been seeing so many videos on TikTok where girls would prank their boyfriends or husbands by convincing them that they had bought “premium air” for the tires of their cars; and you decided that since so much of Max’s life revolved around cars, it would be the perfect way to prank him. 
“Oh, thank you very much baby, that’s kind of you, everything okay with it?” he said, never lifting his head up from his phone. 
“You’re welcome, yeah everything was okay they just said something about low tire pressure or something? I don’t really remember but I sorted it.” You said, fighting the mischievous grin that is trying to take its place on your face. At your words Max finally lifts his head up and looked at you, his brows furrowed. 
“Really are you sure? They seemed to be fine last time I drove it” his voice has a hint of concern lacing though it, clearly unsure where this is leading.  
“I’m not sure, that’s what the man said anyway. But I got it sorted. I even sprung for the premium air for you!” Your excitement was clear and the second the words left your lips, Max put his phone down, his full attention now on you. Confusion was etched on his face, his brows furrowed, and his lips pressed tightly in a fine line.  
“Premium air?” he questioned 
You nod enthusiastically, maintaining your poker face. "Yeah! It's the latest thing. It makes your car run smoother, improves fuel efficiency, and who knows, maybe it even adds a few extra horsepower."  
Max looks at you like you’ve got two heads and you come so close to ruining the whole prank and bursting out laughing.  
“Premium air?” he asked again, like he couldn’t find any other words to respond to your ridiculousness. “How much did this premium air cost you?” he asked with a bemused smile, that smile however, dropped as soon as you answered his question. 
“Oh, it was a steal! Like €150 a tire.”  
His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "€150 per tire? Are you serious Y/N? There's no such thing as premium air!" 
You feign innocence, "Oh, come on, Maxy, it's a special service they offered. You can't put a price on a smooth ride” Max sighs, a mix of frustration and amusement on his face.  
"Baby, I think you’ve been scammed. There's no such thing as premium air. Next time, let me know before you spend money on something like this." 
You play dumb, widening your eyes in mock surprise. "Scammed? But how could I buy it if it doesn't exist?" 
Max laughs, shaking his head. "You're too precious. Next time, let me come with you to the garage, okay? I'll make sure you don't fall for any tricks." 
You're left feeling a bit confused. Most of the prank videos you’ve seen end with frustration or annoyance, but Max seems more amused than anything else. 
As you sit there, still feeling a bit bewildered by Max's surprisingly lighthearted reaction, you gather the courage to ask him the burning question. "Hey, Max," you begin cautiously, "why aren't you mad at me?" 
He looks at you with genuine confusion. "Mad? What do you mean?" 
You take a deep breath and decide it's time to come clean. "The whole premium air thing—it was a prank," you admit, pointing discreetly at the camera you had strategically placed in the room to capture his reaction. 
Max's eyes widen in realization, and he breaks into a hearty laugh. "You got me!" he exclaims, playfully pushing you. 
You can't help but smile at his reaction, relieved that he found it amusing. "Seriously, though, why aren't you mad? Everyone else in those prank videos gets upset." 
Max wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer. "I didn't want to make you feel bad," he confesses. "You were just trying to do something nice for me, and I didn't want to ruin that by getting angry over a harmless mistake” You look up at him, touched by his understanding and kindness. "But I wasted money on something that doesn't exist. You could have been really mad." He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Money comes and goes, but you trying to make me happy means the world to me.” 
"I love you," you say, a mixture of gratitude and affection in your voice. 
Max smiles, his eyes filled with warmth. "I love you too, baby. Just remember, next time you decide to prank me, I'll be one step ahead." 
2K notes · View notes
eff-plays · 5 months
Text
Idk if this is a hot take of any kind but I actually really like that Astarion's romance starts off in an unhealthy way and evolves. That's like ... the point? Ya know?
It's interesting. It adds layers and conflict. It allows for growth and evolution. And Larian have claimed multiple times that it was on purpose, that many video game romances have sex as the culmination while here, some characters will fuck you immediately but then what? What happens after? Sex isn't the reward, but part of the relationship. There is more beyond. But people think that there being stuff beyond sex means that that's the only value that exists, and that the sex adds nothing. But in Astarion's case, it's extremely important?
It's complicated. His relationship with sex is complicated. They did it on purpose. That's the point. So what if it's not "uwu soft trust me I don't want sex please let's just hold hands" from the start? He doesn't trust the PC from the start, so why the fuck would he agree to that? He doesn't know them at all. He needs to do things his way because he's not ready for anything else yet. And if you feel sad for him, that's fine, because it's meant to be sad? But to the point of it becoming anger at the people who wrote it? That's weird, man. Astarion isn't real, you're not hurting a real person, and he literally asks Tav for it? In my case, he asks them twice before they say yes. They're not forcing him into anything. The only time you can force him is after the Araj scene, and he immediately breaks up with you after. So he's clearly perfectly capable of ending things if they get too toxic.
I swom to Jon just romance someone else at that point. Idk if this is my romance writer brain talking but well-written, not contrived, and non-abusive conflict is actually rare and sometimes difficult to write, but IMO every good romance needs conflict. Because at the end of the day, it's also a story?
It's not perfect because it's not meant to be. It's meant to be a starting point to evolve from. Sometimes things can be unhealthy without being abusive or problematic TM.
Anyway. Yeah I like how fucked up it is. Because Astarion is fucked up. It makes it more real and more compelling. I made my Tav fucked up to match.
"Well my Tav wouldn't fall for it and would realize ...!" Roleplay harder. Clearly Tav/Durge aren't meant to pick up on his manipulations from the start, or overlook them, or fall for them. There's a bajillion different ways to justify it. If you can't see past your own meta knowledge, romance someone else.
But if you really want the relationship to start without sex then just write that fic? Why are you demanding that Larian caters to your specific tastes and sensibilities? They had a story to tell and they told it. You not liking it is neither a personal a slight against you nor their problem.
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