Tumgik
#go down on your ladies fellas
generalsmemories · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Ginkgo leaves
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader
✧ based on the ask: Since reqs are open, you think you could write jing yuans reaction to his lover being Mara-struck? Thank you! - requested by anonymous
✧ contents: established relationship, angst, hurt/almost no comfort lmfao, implied character death, mentions of other characters, pov mostly written in jing yuan's pov, still usage of 2nd pov (referring the reader as you), mayhaps ooc because jing yuan is an emotional wreck.
✧ a/n: when i tell ya'll i legit struggled to be able to write this entire thing. there's been like 3-4 scrapped drafts because halfway through writing i would just NOT be satisfied with the result. to the anon who requested this, i'm so sorry it took this long - but i hope the upcoming trainwreck makes up for it! a trainwreck im still not actually satisfied with LMFAO. but it's better than the other 5 scrapped works. also not beta-read so fellas if u see a spelling error - no you didn't.
p.s: some mara-struck information i give here are totally fanmade for the purpose of this fic alone, as such don't take whatever i write about mara here as what actually happens canonically to characters (then again most of the playable characters have different symptoms of mara themselves).
Tumblr media
"Benefactor, am I correct to believe you're asking me if the general has any specific interests?" Tingyun asks with a snicker, the trailblazer looking away from her prying eyes while mumbling a quiet yes.
"Some of the younger... Can I call them younger? Anyway, some of the younger Xianzhou citizens are very infatuated with the general. Seeing as I've been announced as his honory guest, they do often come and ask me various things to try and gain his favor. So yeah, anything at this point will work - so please!" the trailblazer hurriedly explained, clasping their hands together in a desperate attempt to get anything from the foxian amicassador leaning back with a quirked eyebrow.
"Ahh, love truly makes someone go blind doesn't it," she muses out loud, the trailblazers' eyebrow furrowing together in confusion over the foxian's lady choice of words, "... You're not entirerely wrong with that statement..."
"Do you want to know what his favorite flower is?" Tingyun asks, ignoring the confused question that had been uttered to her, snapping her fan open to hide the cheeky smile that spread across her lips - but anyone could still tell that her eyes were gleaming with mischief as the trailblazer nodded their head.
"He doesn't have one."
"Then why did you even-"
"But he likes ginkgo leaves."
The trailblazers' eyes widened in shock, and rightfully so because the very thing ginkgo leaves are associated with are after all...
"He had a lover once, and as far as I'm aware, his last moment with them while they still had their consciousness intact was surrounded by ginkgo leaves."
Tumblr media
Jing Yuan whilst having forgotten almost every single moment with you, does unfortunately remember the exact details of the day that your descent into madness started. Because what he witnessed wasn't a futile struggle you had with yourself to not to destroy everything within your vicinity. Instead, he witnessed the slow process of your bright self becoming an empty shell, only capable of uttering a few words.
It's comical really, even when faced with a curse that struck everyone mad - he found out that it oddly fit your character to not go mad, but instead become the complete opposite of your gentle self. A hollow shell of the person he fell in love with all centuries ago.
Jing Yuan knew he had to end your suffering right then and there when you first started to show signs.
But he couldn't - This wasn't something that had to be immediately dealt with, his hand wasn't forced like it was back when he had to slay his own master down before she took more lives.
No, this was a normal afternoon on what would've been another normal, mundane day in both of your lives. But everything went wrong the moment Jing Yuan heard the breaking of glass, and how there was a lone gingko leaf inside the palm of your hand - a ginkgo leaf that you were staring wide-eyed at with a trembling hand.
You were too far from the veranda to have a ginkgo leaf in your hand.
General Jing Yuan would've ended your suffering the moment you turned around to lock eyes with him, your own face twisted into one of utter fear.
General Jing Yuan would've reported you the to Ten-Lords Commissions as the law had stated. But Jing Yuan couldn't - because Jing Yuan knew that the moment he did, he would never see you again.
So he decided for once he would be selfish. Jing Yuan rarely made choices lately that was based off of his own feelings, but his time with you was cut too harshly, so once again he chooses to be selfish. Even if that meant that it would prolong your suffering just a tiny bit more. "... We can figure something out," was the only thing he could muster up the courage to say with a shaking voice. You didn't say anything, your mouth wobbling a tiny bit and your breathing getting harsher by the second.
But still you indulged him - you always did. So with an equally wobbly smile, you only nodded your head slightly, "... Sure."
That wobbly smile and expression of utter fear was the last genuine expression that truly came from yourself.
The descent to becoming fully mara-struck is usually a fast process, the curse able to completely overtake someone's mind within the same day the symptoms appears - rendering the person completely vulnerable with the only alternative to either hand themselves in to the Ten-Lords or wait for the Ten-Lords to come to them personally.
Your usual easy-going smile was gone, in its stead was eyes that kept going in and out of focus. Almost as if you were desperately trying to keep yourself grounded - a battle you both knew would end with your defeat.
Jing Yuan didn't dare to venture outside of the house. One step out and every Cloud Knight would've been on you within seconds to subdue you. He had first initially resorted to just holding you within his arms for as long as he could, to be able to remember how you felt like after your death.
But with the minimal strength you had left, you had wobbled to the garden, every step taken only making you pant heavily. But even with heavy breaths of air leaving your lips, you had refused to take Jing Yuans hand or offer to even carry you out to the garden. When you had managed to reach the ginkgo tree standing tall at the center of the garden, Jing Yuan was sure you were going to collapse in front of it, taking a quick step to catch you.
But instead you had merely reached your hands up, the falling leaves fluttering gently down onto your palms. And while you were in indescriable pain for the last couple of hours - Jing Yuan could only see a serene expression when you looked up at the ginkgo leaves that were continously falling down.
"... They're beautiful... aren't they... Jing Yuan? It's almost a pity... that these beautiful... leaves are associated with our doom," you said softly. Jing Yuan could feel his breath hitch in his throat when you uttered his name.
You're obviously struggling to convey whatever thoughts you still had to him properly, taking a moment in between words to catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you fought against the searing pain that was spreading through every nerve in your body.
There's a sudden gust of wind which causes the pile of leaves in your hands to flutter away from your grasp. Your hand stretches out slightly, almost in an attempt to reach out for them - stumbling a bit in your step. The limp causes Jing Yuan to take a quick step forward with his arms outstretched. Perhaps seeing him in your peripheral vision causes you to stop the futile attempt to catch the escaping leaves, arms going limp against your side as you turn to face him - your once blank expression turning into a somber smile instead.
Jing Yuan thinks that it's unfair how normal you look in front of him - almost as if you haven't been becme mara-struck. Like nothing has happened to you aside from the ginkgo leaves fluttering from your lips whenever you cough. The same cough that causes the general of Luofu to flinch every time - without fail.
And perhaps you can see his inner turmoil, the way he tries to make eye contact with you, but is unable to after a few seconds. The way his hands clench too hard into fist to the point droplets of blood fall down to the grass and stains it a deep red while he bites his own lips to not say a word - lest he says something that he will regret.
And you truly wish that you could tell him everything is okay like you usually do.
But for the first time since the day he lost his friends, you can't.
"... I'm sorry," you finally say, the apology making him whip his head up to you again. Mouth opening to say something to comfort you, to tell you that it's not your fault. But the words are unable to leave his mouth when he sees your arms slightly outstretched towards him with a small smile.
And he can't hold it in anymore.
It only takes him a few wide steps to reach you from his position before he cradles you within his arms. The grip is tight, unbearably tight to the point it hurts, but you don't complain. You're limp in his hold, and if this was any day he wouldn't comment, but the fact that you're not moving a single muscle terrifies Jing Yuan to the core. "... Please," he finally manages to whisper, the rustling of ginkgo leaves around you almost drowning out his quiet plea.
"Please don't make me do this again."
He doesn't ask if the tensing of your body is caused by the pain that's rapidly increasing or if it's caused by his silent confession. He can however feel the gentle hand that rests against the lower part of his back and your head resting against the side of his own. The reassurance you try to give him does nothing to help because he's aware that it probably brought you unmeasurable pain to try to move those limbs - instead the general buries his face closer to your neck and squeezes you tighter.
"... You won't." you whisper quietly.
It takes a moment for Jing Yuan to process the meaning behind those two words.
But it's a moment too late, because before he can get his phone out to usher a command, a few resounding knocks can be heard throughout the quiet mansion.
"General Jing Yuan. This is Xueyi of the Ten-Lords commission. I've gotten information that there's currently a mara-struck within these premises."
Jing Yuan feels his blood run cold, he pulls himself away from you to stare at you properly in disbelief.
You're still staring at him with the same somber expression, however he can tell there's a small pitiful smile grazing your lips, "I'm sorry," you whisper once again.
"I asked her... personally," you start, finally letting yourself rest now that the end is near, slumping down onto Jing Yuan's chest, your ear settling itself against his heart to hear his rapid heartbeats.
Jing Yuan loathes the fact that it's at this moment, with the Ten-Lords commission outside of your door and with him completely broken do you actually look at peace - like your battle against time has finally come to its conclusion.
And naturally, the one who lost is you.
"Half a day... with you. Then she would come and bring me there. You won't have to... do this again."
You're not able to see Jing Yuan's face - and Jing Yuan wouldn't want you to see how he looked like right now. The arms around you is trembling, his mind is racing - trying to come up with anything to give him a bit more time with you.
But for once, the general that had a plan for every situation had nothing in mind.
He's lost. And the prize of the loss this time is losing you forever.
"General, I apologize for the rudeness of what I'm about to do, but this is for both of your safety," Jing Yuan hear Xueyi mutter from outside of the door, before he hears the rattling of the door frame start to slide open.
"Wait- no," it's a quiet request that gets ignored as Xueyi strides in alone, the lack of company making Jing Yuan's eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"... Their last request along with the request for my late arrival here was for the Cloud Knights to not see you like this. Naturally I won't tell anyone of what I've seen today."
Jing Yuan doesn't care about that, he could care less about his image right now, pulling you closer to him while his eyes are downcast - he makes no move to hand you over to the judge.
The puppet judge before him does not say anything - nor does she make a move. What she does however is wait, wait for the general before her that has been utterly crushed and broken by the person in his arms start to accept the harsh truth once again.
If he doesn't handle the mara-struck himself, someone else would - but the end result only serves to punish him in the end, the one left behind.
Xueyi hears a silent breath be let out by the general, her once closed eyes opening up to see the general pull slightly away from you, one hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. Your eyes have long since closed, and you're most likely not even conscious to hear what he's about to say.
"My dear... I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. But I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit longer before we can meet again," he whispers, bumping his forehead against your own gently, "I hope you won't fault me for that."
A long ginkgo leaf flutters right between the two of you, eventually settling down on your chest.
Jing Yuan sucks in one last deep breath, "I'm sorry I kept you here for so long - I'm sorry you had to be in pain for so long because of me," he leans in to slot his lips one last time over your own, whispering something that Xueyi can't hear before he rises up, your body limp in his arms.
"Thank you for your service Miss Xueyi, please see them off appropiately." Jing Yuan says, voice sounding eerily calm - almost like his usual self.
When he turns around to finally face her, the puppet's lifeless eyes seem to grow a bit in surprise. Before her is the general of Luofu, his usual easy-going smile present on his lips.
Like he wasn't carrying his mara-struck lover in his arms.
"As much as I would want to accompany you to see them off, I'm afraid I have some urgent matters to attend to," he informs, handing your body over to Xueyi - she doesn't comment on how his hands are still slightly trembling or how he immediately turned a bit to the side to ignore staring at her head-on.
Even though Xueyi doesn't want to ask, she still asks either way, "What are your plans from here on, general?"
Jing Yuan only gives her a close eyed smile, turning his gaze towards the large ginkgo tree with his hands behind his back. He gnaws a tiny bit at his lips, finally breathing out.
A couple of seconds passes by before he opens his mouth.
"I think I'll meditate a bit under this tree before heading back to the Seat. I can't leave Luofu without me for too long after all."
Tumblr media Tumblr media
5 SCRAPPED WORKS AND I'M STILL NOT ACTUALLY THAT SATISFIED BUT IF I KEEP THIS PIECE LONGER IN THE WORKS THE MORE I'LL BUTCHER IT SO HAHA - THIS IS THE BEST WE CAN DO AFTER 3 MONTHS OF CONSTANT BACK AND FORTH FELLAS. I HOPE IT SQUEEZED YOUR HEART A TINY BIT NONETHELESS.
863 notes · View notes
romanoffsbish · 4 months
Text
Kissing Booth
Natasha Romanoff x F!R (College AU)
Tired of your girlfriends on and off kind of love, you set off to see just how invested she is in keeping you | WC: 2,848
Warnings: Toxic-Ish themes | Jealous Nat | Blood
Smut: Public | Jean-Riding (R) | Oral (R) | Degradation (Slut)
18+ | Minors DNI
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Y/N Y/L/N's pledge to the campuses first ever, Mental Wellness Festival is: a one woman booth meant to stimulate your joy receptors; a smooch of serotonin. Fellas, swing on by and steal a kiss, from the palm of my hand, and enjoy your sweet treat. Ladies and They's lean in closer love, if you set the right price, you can take the grand prize—a kiss of your choosing; my lips taste like artificial cherry and melted chocolate if that's of any interest to you. All proceeds go to a fund set in place to create better avenues for those suffering to cope with their hefty course loads as they manage heavy thoughts too." Natasha read the words over and over again in her traumatized mind until her pure feelings came to a boil as she huffed and ripped the paper off of the wall of every place she'd found it.
———
It didn't matter though. Because even though she took them down within the same hour they'd gone up, when she stepped onto the quad lit up by stadium lights she saw that your booths line had wrapped around the diamond twice in the five minutes that it was open.
Her fists clenched briefly as she saw Wanda and Carol, her sorority sisters, eagerly stood in line. Then she shook her head with a near manic laugh. The redhead truly felt bad for the other people here who thought that you'd actually kiss them on their mouths. Foolish to even dream of it really, because you knew better than to let them taint your sweet lips with their lust.
Theirs was carnal; vile another way to express that they wouldn't care for you like she would. Hers was soul crushing, but in the euphoric sense, because you knew no matter what happened between you two, that you were never alone. Natasha might be away, or distant, but she'd never leave you to become another's prey.
Far too perfect for her to lose to her traitorous sisters. They'd be dealt with later, but right now, your (ex) girlfriend had to focus on creeping in the shadows. Watching to see just how far you'd push her buttons.
All Natasha needed was your patience for a month, not even the full thirty days honestly. It was only meant to be a break so that she could focus on her studies, the way her A+'s, and full marks had dropped to A-'s had scared her into thinking that space would help fix it.
It didn't, but she pretended it did because she could not psych herself out of sticking to her desired path. You clearly lacked the patience and respect only your mommy could teach you. The exams are literally next week, you've been so good up until this final stretch. Not bothering her with physical ambushes, or even texting her, which she actually scolded you for, to which you re-shared your location with her just to limit the contact you'd have to make with her through text.
That hurt her feelings a bit, but she refused to wallow in the mess that she'd made. Your feelings were hurt first, and the aftermath treated hers no kinder, and lord knows this wasn't the first time she's done this.
That was in high school, junior year, and you were distraught by the decision. Then Summer came with apologies, and forgiveness. Now, in your fourth and final year of undergrad, you're just used to it. For some reason she just kept getting away with it unscathed...
Until now at least.
The woman you craved watched you with dilated eyes that caught everything. She's only hiding to see who you flirt with, genuinely, and consequently putting them on her list of people whose life she must now ruin in relation to you. Her mind raced when you let an older woman peck your cheek, she had only given you $500, and yet you let the corners of your lips brush.
Natasha growled in place of a whimper, she couldn't get the infuriating image out of her mind, her eyes burned with frustration as she pictured you and the football captain's girlfriend leaving the field together.
The redhead wouldn't let that happen. Darcy Lewis, the gifted scientist, and lover to a Mr. Sam Wilson, would leave here sooner in a body bag than with you.
Natasha pictured shoving the overzealous woman off of a cliff, then she'd return so she could approach you as she dug in her deep crossbody fanny pack, to then slam her wad of cash into the full jar, pull you up into a bruising kiss, and lift the bowl as she kicked the table over, helping flip to the red closed sign for good.
It was $4,000 in hard cash, money she'd just pulled out this morning to get a cashiers check for rent and to pay her other bills; Natasha was pissed, you sure felt that in the way that she harshly nibbled on your lips, cracking open the silky smooth skin; bright red blood smeared your coffee stained teeth. Everyone's whispers of fury and shock were drowned out as your heart pounded wildly in your chest. Natasha hungrily sought out this elevated moment where she took a chance and recklessly guided your body around the corner until she could slam you up against a random concrete wall.
.... It paid off.
"Oh fuck," you huffed as your exposed upper back brushed against prickly vines, the crisp chill in the air instantly solidifying your blood against your skin. You could hardly care about the pain though as Natasha's thigh brushed against the bare cunt you'd sported beneath your skirt the entire night. That shiny metal chair was dripping with your essence as you saw your soulmate (ex-girlfriend) watching you with fury.
You were drenched, painfully needy, and screaming: "Natasha please—god I'm so fucking wet right now!"
"I know you are slut," she growled as her sharp canines grazed over the throbbing veins of your jugular. "I can feel your sticky mess through my jeans." You mewled at the rough press of your slick cunt to her pants, it had you seeing staticky stars. If she kept up a steady pace you were certain to be discovering galaxies. "Mmm, I need to cum mommy, need to cum so bad, please!"
"Yeah?" She scoffed, and you nodded frantically. "Well I need my money back, but instead I've donated it to do with these lips as I please so how about you shut it."
You didn't heed her warning, "Please, I'm sorry..."
"So fucking greedy," she growled, the glare she held as she pulled away from your neck sparked a thrill of fear to run straight to your core, your pretty eyes plead for reprieve, and naturally, the redhead gave in. "Go ahead slut, but make sure to let them hear you." Natasha's arms flexed as she expertly guided your core against the rough material of her jeans, and so you moaned out into the world her outwardly embarrassing title, letting everyone know they never stood a chance, it was a beautiful symphony to your on and off again lover that ended on a high note when she heard a familiar gush.
While you heavily panted, desperately breathing in the crisp night air that chilled your lungs into a hitch, she reveled in how the delicate rumble felt against her lips that were spread against the thin skin of your throat. Her tongue darted out, licking up the salty layer atop of your tacky skin, her teeth brushed back down, going the opposite way her tongue just had. The redheads goal of an endgame was etched into your exposed skin.
Your collarbones now decorated with her marks; ones that spoke of jealousy, and paired with a fragile love. You whimpered softly, the way her wet lips suckled on the already marked skin of your thudding pulse point bled off into the more painful side of things. Her wet tongue slid over the same spot in apology, then her lips founds yours after she kissed up the side of your neck.
Natasha's lips pressed against yours much softer than before, but you could tell she was frustrated with you. Which was fair, and matched as you stewed yourself, a part of you did feel guilty, but mostly, you felt broken.
But you weren't about to cry, no, you'd rather get mad.
It was what the naive asshole had earned. Natasha was great, a caring girlfriend who looked to you to smother with all of her love, the last six years together were a dream come true. A dream that faded into a nightmare whenever she becomes stressed, becoming someone you hardly recognize. She'd become dismissive, cold and quick to call for a blip; a break in your sacred union. Each time she said the same thing, "Just a bit of space is all I need, we'll be okay, mommy promises."
It was what she needed—never you, but she made it seem as if you'd happily agreed to her conditional love. As if letting you feel like her life could only improve if you were to leave it was something you took positively.
You were young, and carefree but not dumb enough to not know this wasn't healthy and maybe for your own petty thrill, you wanted to test her very limits. To see if she might just see what she risks losing, but you feel like all she got from this was more frustration. It only took a moment for her to huff that angrily against your chapped lips. "All I asked of you was for time Y/N."
You leaned your head back and pouted, eyes soft like a wounded puppy's. "We're better together Tasha."
Natasha sighed, "I know detka," she conceded with ease, her guilty face falling into the crook of your neck as she took in a calming breath. "I've been miserable without you honey, but we had to know that this could work. I'm going to have to travel for work, and I don't want to have to worry about you entertaining others."
"I'd never cheat," you hissed, "You asked for a break, that means we're no longer in a relationship Natasha."
"That's not what I meant and you know it Y/N," her nails dug into your sides. "Never have we ever ran a kissing booth during one, now stop being so difficult."
"I'm not being difficult Natasha, I'm doing charity work, and having a bit of fun as I do it." You shrugged and she frowned. "So breaking my heart is fun?"
You sighed softly, unwilling to unpack the hypocrisy of her words, "The only way this works out is if only your body leaves me in those times, but if you're saying random bouts of silence is the final answer th—." Nat cut you off, "You stopped texting Y/N, not me."
"Yeah, because you just wanted a 'good morning' and 'night' or an 'I'm home' after my classes got out, and you'd simply like it. Not even a 'morning love' or a 'glad you made it home safe' or an 'I love you.' in response."
"I needed to focus on school," she tried to defend, it was a pathetic excuse, and you both knew it. "Then you can do that Natasha, but I won't be waiting for you anymore, these breaks in affection are killing me."
"What? I-." You pressed your hands to her shoulders and attempted to push her away but she fiercely stood her ground. "What are you saying Y/N? Because I—."
"Need to let me go," you tiredly replied, "If I, um, if our relationship is too much of a problem for you on your journey to success then it's best we end this now."
Natasha's heart froze in her chest, the idea made her ill. "No!" Natasha fell to her knees, lips brushing over your abdomen before her hands lifted your skirt, and then her nose was nudging the wet skin of your thigh beside your cunt. "I'll do better honey, I swear to it." Her lips trembled, "No more breaks," her voice cracked and your heart sank. Your hands fell to the outline of her head that was buried beneath your skirt, her erratic breaths fanned across the sticky mess between your thighs and your body shivered. "Natasha, get up."
You felt the godly crafted curve of her nose nudge your clit as she shook her head, your mind was reeling with desperation, the same as her words. "I'm insane Y/N, clearly, because my reckless hypocrisy nearly lost me you, but I'm not so crazy that I'd actually let you go."
"Nat..." your muttering of her name cut off in a shaky breath as you felt her shake her head again, the thin twigs snapped as you threw your head back. "No," she murmured against the slick curve of your labia, a wet kiss made your hip jolt off the wall and slip more of her face between your folds. "You are my home Y/N."
Your heart stuttered as you heard her sniffle, her warm tears cascaded over the slick of your thighs and soaked into the cracks of your kneecaps. Hurting her wasn't something you relished in, but it was also necessary.
You knew that up until now things had been toxic, but you also knew your threat of dissolution wouldn't be dismissed. Natasha wouldn't let you go, she'd fell for you way back in middle school, she had the diary's in a locked drawer outlining your future together, the stars were aligned well before you knew, and they officially clicked when she made her move sophomore year.
After puberty gave her a much needed confidence boost she'd asked you out, using homecoming as an excuse, and you didn't hesitate to say yes. She kissed you after walking you home, her mind shifted when her lips pressed into yours, giving her a taste, and from that moment forward she has held on possessively.
Which is why you knew the moment your flyers went up that she would be all over you. A minute part of you lived for these raw moments where the insecurities her distance had created are edged out of your wary mind. Natasha wasn't a fan of breaking your heart either, but with who her parents are you can show her some grace, her expression was clearly a byproduct of their neglect.
Especially when she worked your body so perfectly. "Mmm, fuck," you gasped abruptly, mind exceptionally fuzzy as her despair had turned into the sloppiest head you'd ever received in your life. The noises were lewd, not even the school's festival could drown her out the more her tongue lavished away at your oozing cunt.
Natasha forgot what it was like to breathe for a long moment, her nose and mouth too busy working together to keep your mind fuzzy from pleasure. It was also her way of relishing the time she spent with your intimacy, fear clawing at her heart that this could be it.
The final time she was able to make you cry out her name, to make you feel this good, to love you as she always should. Her mind ran wild with the thought that you might've been scoping out your next lover tonight—could Wanda or Carol be better suited for you? No! She shook her head again and you came, crying out for her—you needed her, and her alone.
Natasha's nails dug into your ass, spreading your cheeks so that she could delve even further into your core with her tongue. Intent solely on drinking you dry, not that she ever really could, no matter how much she lapped away you never failed to become wet again. It was a vicious cycle that she endured with glee.
Your essence was something she always savored, but in this exact moment she found herself rushing to clean it up, her body now plagued with a persistent urge to cry.
Tears and slick intermixed on your thighs, creating their own slippery consistency that led to the redhead falling further into you as she tried to push herself up. You chuckled slightly before reaching a hand down to help her to her feet, the humor dying as soon as her face was leveled with yours. It was hard to feel joy when the love of your life looked so damn despaired.
"Oh Tasha," you coo'd, hands gentle as they cupped her  wet cheeks. "Please, don't leave me detka," she sobbed, her slick hands laid over yours, attempting to keep the comfort of your touch on her, even if it was forced. Fortunately, your intent was only to bring her closer as you pulled her face forward and into a sloppy kiss. The way she whimpered at the affection solidified your choice to stay and fight for the love you knew existed.
"Take me home baby, these lips are yours to keep."
879 notes · View notes
Text
remus x shy!reader (part 4)
author: sj
warnings: fluff; angst for remus lol; reader is in hufflepuff; uses she/her pronouns; not edited
done with finals!! now battling the want to only read fics and not write, let me know if you want a confession from rem!!
masterlist
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 5
---
it was the day of the date and remus had been up since 4 am. he couldn't stop thinking about your date. however bad he hoped it would go, he didn't want your first date experience to be horrible. he wanted you to be treated how you deserve and to have a lovely time while also never ever wanting to see the fool again. and that is why he had woken up at 4 in the morning and couldn't stop the fight in his mind.
it was 11:30am and he was laying on the couch in the common room, one foot on the ground tapping constantly. the boys had decided to stay in this morning because james was worried they'd run into you and that sirius would end up embarrassing you and ruin your date.
"moony, if you don't stop tapping your foot, i'm going to lose my mind." sirius grunted, head in his hands covering his ears from the tapping noise.
"she should be done with her date now, right? its been 2 hours. why isn't she back yet?" remus asked.
"relax you love sick dog. your precious wife will be returned soon." sirius replied dramatically, rolling his eyes at how abserd this whole situation was. "if you had only confessed your love for her when you had the chance, she wouldn't be snogging another fella while you fumed the whole time." he added. remus shot upright on the couch with a wide eyed expression and a look of dread covering his features.
"here she comes!" peter shouted, holding the marauder's map in his hands, walking into the common room where the other boys were. all of their heads turned towards the portrait hole where it swung open and you stepped through.
you were excited to tell the boys all about it, but you weren't quite expecting them to all be staring at you when you got back.
"well, hi." you said, cheeks flushing more than they already were, glancing towards the floor to not meet their eyes. you sat down on the couch next to remus like normal, not sensing the tension in his body, only feeling their eyes on you.
"WELL??? i need all the details. spill your guts flea!" sirius cried across from you.
"it was okay! it wasn't bad! but it also wasn't great. like it was pleasant but it wasn't anything to write home about. is that good? like are you supposed to know if you want to marry him already?" you rambled, entire face flushing and not meeting their eyes.
"aw, hoppers. i'm sorry it didn't go well." james consoled you.
"what do you mean?" you asked, confused why he sounded sad for you.
"well, it didn't sound like there was any chemistry, that's important if you're gonna date someone." james explained.
"flea, i know it's your first date ever, but even i thought you'd know that." sirius shrugged. at the mention of it being your first date, you tensed and shot a look a remus, hurt that he spilled a secret to the boys. remus met your gaze with a look of panic.
"that wasn't me! i swear it! i didn't tell them!" he yelled.
"oh he didn't tell us, but the way you were acting before was kind of obvious and the fact that remus would've known that you were dating someone before you were part of our group and you certainly haven't since we've been friends because of remus' behavior." sirius explained, you relaxed and reached to touch remus' leg.
"sorry for thinking that you told them when you didn't ." you apologized and remus nodded back.
"its fine bun, i'm not hurt." he said, covering your hand with his.
"so hoppers, did you snog him?" sirius asked crudely. your cheeks flushed bright red.
"that is none of your business sirius! and a lady never kisses and tells!" you exclaim, avoiding all their eyes. "i told him that it would be best if we were friends, and he agreed. i don't think dating is for me, i just got so anxious before! and the thought of having to go on another date, just makes me nauseous." you say, leaning onto remus' shoulder and resting your head.
"thats okay, bun. you don't have to date if you don't want to." remus patted your thigh, his heart soaring that he won't have to go through this again. he knew he'd have to tell you that he liked you soon, the thought of you with someone else almost killed him.
"thanks rem." you mumbled back, sinking deeper into his side.
sirius observes this going on, looking to james and mouthing, 'are they fucking idiots??'
james simply rolled his eyes in response.
409 notes · View notes
agirlcandream84 · 14 days
Note
Hello, hello! It’s me again. From your recent headcanons post, the one of Frank telling his friends to filter themselves because “his lady is in the room” is driving me CRAZY. XD
I would love to see more of that! The nickname potential, him putting his hand on the reader’s thigh… so many ideas RN. XD
Ok that part in particular had a positive reaction from others too! Like it's one thing to "protect" you from general stuff in the world but the man simply won't be having his foul-mouthed friends not respecting their manners when you're around.
Like imagine there's a little poker night at the house-- the guys are gathered in the basement, cigar smoke clouding up the room, while they all just talk shit and lose money to each other. A few hours in and most of the table has too many beers but Frank has never really been that way. He's still nursing his second beer and mostly just observing the table, watching as less poker is played at a louder volume.
You shuffle down into the basement, robe tied around your nightgown to tell Frank you were headed to bed. He wraps a strong hand around your hip and tugs you into his lap, desperate to smell your soapy scent amidst the stale cigar smoke. You drape your arm across his shoulder and cradle his head into your chest, running your fingers through his hair for a moment while his hand roams down to squeeze your ass. Truth be told, he was ready to call it a night and on his last nerve with his belligerent friends anyway.
"And so get this," Jared practically shouts, spit flying from his mouth as his beer sloshes in his hand, "then this fucking bitch cuts me off," he continues as the guys jeer him on.
"Hey," Frank barks and the guys all jerk their heads in his direction. Being a man of a few words often had Frank commanding a room. "Watch your fuckin' mouth around my lady," he commands, his thick finger pointed right at the guy.
The guys immediately start mumbling sorry's around the table, as if they were knocked dead-sober in the matter of a minute.
"Nah, don't apologize to me, apologize to my girl," he directs them, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe the stupidity he was faced with.
"Frankie, it's not--" you start, embarrassed to be made a stink over. It's not as though this was the first time you'd heard foul language or assholes shit-talking women.
"S'alright sweetheart," Frank shushes you, his leg bouncing beneath you a few times while he pats your ass, "they owe you an apology. Go ahead assholes. Apologize to the lady."
You're bombarded with a chorus of profuse apologies as the guys attempt to get back into Frank's good graces.
"That's fuckin' better. Now clean up your shit cuz game's over fellas. My girl is tired," Frank adds before murmuring in your ear, "let's get you to bed sweetheart."
-------
ok now I'm literally giggling and kicking my feet at my own fic
244 notes · View notes
Text
Baby Face - A John Shelby/Reader One Short Story.
Tumblr media
Words - 2,742
Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!
You and your girlfriends, you have names for each of them. Names the don’t know about. Tommy is razor cheeks, because of course. Those cheekbones. Arthur is angry fella, again, self-explanatory, and John is... 
“Look, girls,” you chime, sipping upon your gin while discreetly nodding in the direction of the Garrison’s entrance. “Baby face just walked in.”  
“He’s so adorable,” your friend Marjie sighs, turning to you with a look of pure adoration upon her face. “I don’t know what I’d like to do more, mother him or get on him!” 
“Oh,” you snort, shaking your head, “it’s the latter for me. I would ride that man all the way to town and back!”  
Your girls all cackle, huddling close, Joan the next to speak. “Would you, though? I mean, he’s a bit too sweet looking for me! Dunno if he’d have it in him, to be as much man as I’d need!” 
You turn to view him again, catching his eye. He gives you an appreciative sweep with his eyes, winking. Turning back to your friends, you beam widely. “He’s got it in him. I know we call him baby face, but there’s a demon lurking beneath. I know there is.” 
“A shilling says you’re wrong.” Reaching into her purse, Winnie pulls out the very coin itself, slapping it down on the table. Joan and Marjie follow suit. “Are you prepared to put your money where your mouth is?” 
Rifling in your bag, you remove your dainty little purse, taking out the coin and placing it with theirs. “I’ll put my money there. My mouth has other plans.” 
“Oooh, you dirty cat!” Winnie shrieks, her brother, the man you needed to accompany you to the pub in order to be served in the first place turning, tutting and shaking his head.  
“All alley cats, the lot of ya!” 
“Oh, pipe down, our Wilf,” she orders lightly, giving him a nudge where he’s turned in his seat at the next table over with his lad friends. “We’re only having a bit of fun!” 
A bit of fun. You can guess with almost certainty you’d receive exactly that from John Shelby. Turning again, you see he’s still at the bar, drinking with a couple of the lesser famed Blinders, once again catching your eye. He lifts his chin, holding your gaze fast while sipping his whiskey, placing his glass down and making a motion with his fingers for you to go over. Smiling, you remain in your seat. 
He can work a little harder than that.  
The excited squeaks of your friends – who of course witnessed it – tinkle through the air, Joan holding out a cigarette, lighting it for you, her eyes suddenly widening.  
“Baby face on his way over! This is not a bloody drill!” 
Your heart somersaults, but you remain calm, feeling him arrive at your side. “Evening, ladies. Having a good time, are ya?” 
Looking up at him, you’re near intoxicated out of your mind by his scent, his eyes so much more beautiful close up. God, he’s simply divine. “I could be having a better one.” 
“Oh, ar?” he chimes, raising an eyebrow as he idly chews upon his toothpick. “Anything I can help with?”  
Your girlfriends snort with giggles, John giving them a fleeting look of curiosity before his eyes fall back upon you. He doesn’t wait for you to reply. “How about I get another gin in that glass for ya, and we go from there?” 
You stand, licking your lips, watching his eyes flit down, his pupils inking a little. You have to stop yourself from diving on him right there and then. “Lead the way.” He offers his arm, and you take it to a little “ooooh!” chorus from your friends, turning to give them a scolding look. After being escorted from the bar and furnished with another drink, one drink leads to two, two to three, the evening flying by as you get to know the third Shelby brother a little better.  
You find him to be sweet and charming beneath the veil of hardened gangster, and, well, cheeky as hell.  
“I gotta hand it to ya, bab. Those are some cracking legs you’ve got,” he compliments with a wink, looking down and back up again, his cocky smile broadening.  
You lean in close to him, gliding a fingernail over his defined jaw. “Why thank you.” 
His intense gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, turning to press a little kiss to your fingertip. “Yeah, your legs look amazing, but they’d look even better wrapped around me.”  
The signals you’ve been giving to one another have all led to this point, your smile broadening in an instant. “I have lodgings above the shoe shop on Bennett Street. Want to come and see for yourself how good they’ll look around you?” 
You’ve never seen a man see off a fresh whiskey quite so fast before. “Lead the way, love.” You know the Shelby abode is closer than your little room above Mr. Smedley’s Shoes and Leather goods, but you’d prefer to be in your own space with a man you truly don’t know well at all. Outside, you fall into step at his side, taking his arm again, thinking how gentlemanly he is, right up until he suddenly pushes you into an alleyway.  
You feel a little anxious at first, but the way he looks at you. Oh, look. There’s the demon you knew was lurking beneath the surface, spitting out his toothpick before his mouth lands upon yours. His kisses are whiskey tinged and lust dripping, all sweet heat and need as he pushes himself against you. It’s imposing, but not intimidating, his want for you melding with yours as the sparks begin to crackle further into illumination.  
“Come on, mister. You’re not shagging me in an alleyway.” Grabbing his hand, you lead him back out to the street again, John releasing it to wrap an arm around your shoulders instead, your own extending around his waist. The balmy summer evening still warms the pale, inky violet of night, the air pleasant, the birds still twittering as they sit on the viaducts above, turning three corners before you end up on Bennett Street.  
John Shelby has never been so pleased to see a shoe shop in all of his life, and the spring in his step confirms it. If not, the way he begins to lay hot kisses upon your neck as you jiggle the key in the side door lock tells you plenty. The entrance to the two lodging rooms above the is separate from the shop itself, a narrow staircase taking you up a flight, turning right into an equally narrow passageway.  
“Bathroom is at the end there.” you point, unlocking the door to the left and opening it to reveal your modest dwelling.  
“It’s your bed I wanna know the way to more right now,” he breathes, shrugging his jacket off, his hands impatiently moving to you, smoothing over your body, mouth still furiously heated at your neck. God, the raw passion in him. It’s almost enough to make your knees buckle, feeling your dress come loose in his hands as you step out of your shoes, turning to kiss him.  
He backs you against the door, hands pawing at you urgently, kisses full-bodied and blistering with heat. Your hands begin the desperate devouring of clothes, having his shirt unfastened in haste to feel his skin against yours, your body smoothed and squeezed in a touch that leaves you breathless. Your fingers rain trails of exploration over his chest, and the noise he makes as his tongue swirls with yours is pure sin, his touch slipping to your undergarments.  
He fights against the lace, a hand slipping within, pulling a gasp from you when his fingers brush against the petals of your sex. You whine at the tease, and he smiles against your lips, pulling from the kiss to look at you through a heavy-lidded gaze, watching the need dance in your eyes. He relents his tease, his fingertips gently stroking the slick of your anticipation, your head thudding back against the door.  
The wood feels cool and steadying against your body, skin heating up rapidly, a summer tempest beginning to swell as the stroking of your bundle has you purring softly, John’s lips returning to yours. His body melds into your curves, his cock hard at your hip, his touch rousing the little bolts that spark up your spine. He draws all manner of sweet noises from you, and he swallows back every one of them in each kiss, his free arm locking around your waist.  
Lifting you, he carries your barely dressed form to the bed, throwing you down, removing the rest of his clothes as you impatiently pull yourself out of your undies, your stockings shimmied down, receiving his pale skinned, freckle flecked, gorgeous body between your legs. His kisses trail your eager flesh, shifting, hands wandering along the path his lips map, settling at your apex and delving within your folds with a keen, firm drag.  
The wet of each lick has little pin pricks skittering over your nerves, the warmth of it catching quickly, your edges caught in the heat of his flame. The roll of his tongue over your clit is slow and full of heat, hands kneading in soft clench upon your thighs, the outline of him through the dimness of your room gilded in the last of the summer light still reasonably visible.  
He is a feast for your eyes, his wide back and well-bounded bum so peachy, it invites you to sink your teeth into it, if you weren’t so lost in the delirium of his mouth pressed so keenly against your sex. The heat he evokes burns you to your marrow, the scald of your arousal growing as every flicker of his tongue sends flames skittering through you. The addition of his fingers pushing into your cunt has a sweltering flush of pleasure twining through you, your hands reaching to rest either side of his head. 
Neatly shorn stubble prickles at your fingertips, your back arching as he works you with hunger, your dew sparkling upon his fingers. He twists them in a way that has your mouth dropping open, a sound you scarcely believe came from you filling the air, John’s lips wrapping your clit in a suck that is a gentle crush of pillowy heat to begin with, the pull intensifying, little glimmers rushing through you until... 
“Oh!” It tears through you, sudden and overbearing, leaving you trembling, your release still rolling through you as his tongue slows, your fluttering walls pulsing around his fingers, withdrawing them as he sits up, inspecting his sodden hand. 
“Fuckin’ ‘ell!” he rumbles, shaking the trails of slick from them, chuckling to himself. “Proper enjoyed that, didn’t ya?” He brings those fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean before grasping your thighs and yanking you closer to where he kneels, a predatory look glinting the blue of his eyes. “Think you’re ready to get fucked now, ain’t ya?” 
“You bloody better,” you mewl, hands trawling his arms as he lowers to you, placing kisses at your sternum. You can feel the head of his cock pressing for entrance, the tip breeching you, but all he gives is a mere inch before pulling back. His mouth closes over your nipple in a warm suck, pushing again, opening you around him, slipping back once more. Oh... you certainly were right. He’s a demon.  
“John, please,” you complain, and he has the gall to give you his most innocent, unassuming look. Damn that baby face.  
“Please what, bab?” 
You chuckle, but it’s pained, hissing a breath when his teeth close upon your nipple. “Please fuck me.”  
“I will, love,” he murmurs, mouth moving to your neck, tongue pressing against where your pulse flickers madly. “Eventually.” His teeth lock in another bite, cock breeching you again, a couple of inches parting your needy, soaking walls this time, twitching before abandoning you again. “Gonna make you desperate for it before I do, though.” 
“And to think, my friend thought you were so adorable,” you quip, body juddering beneath him, John laughing as his tongue swipes over the crescent of each breast, hands smoothing down your back.  
“Your friend don’t fucking know shit.” Indeed, she doesn’t. Your bet? Won already... and he’s barely been inside you.  
His merciless tease continues, and every second of it is agonising to your overstimulated body, your cunt streaming needily, yearning for him to simply fill you. When he finally does, you have to hope that Mr. Taggart, the other lodger there above the shoe shop is out for the night from the cadence of your wail, spread wide around the girth of the gangster who offers kisses steeped in sugared embers, fingers trawling through your hair.  
No matter how dangerous he is, you desire nothing more than to slap him when he retreats once more, chuckling at your pain. “Alright, fine,” he begins, turning you onto your side, moving to lie behind you. “I suppose I’d better play fair, save spitting me teeth.”  
He hauls your leg up so it rests in the cradle of his elbow, hand reaching to grasp his cock. He purposefully rubs himself along your slit, the gloss of your cunt smearing over his thick, veiny shaft, your whimpers reaching crescendo. You need him so badly, you are not above begging, but finally, he plunges into you fully, sating you beautifully. And oh, he feels sublime.  
His other hand reaches beneath your neck, turning your head to meet your lips in kisses that scald you, like a summer heatwave cutting through an arctic chill, moaning against your tongue as he arrows you so deeply, you see stars. The rhythm of his fuck is contained to begin with, each daggering into your soft, dripping warmth allowing you to feel every ridge of his cock, falling then into a tempo that has you gasping against his lips. 
The snap of his hips has your tits heaving, kissing back every little cry, telling you how good you feel around him, how beautiful you look while you’re getting fucked, moaning into your mouth as his hand slides down to begin stroking your clit in time with every deep thrust. You’re adrift from yourself, cast out onto the vast sea that begins to whirl, the storm that is John leaving you feeling unmoored entirely as he splits you deep and fucks you hard.  
“Come on, darlin’. Don’t be shy,” he encourages you, mouth moving to suck a purple welt upon your neck with a deep groan full of smoke and salt. “Let me hear you scream for me.”  
You feel the shiver in your muscles spread as he rails you relentlessly, his sweat slicked chest rubbing against your back as your voice breaks on the scream he fucks out of you, your waves flooding his shore as you come hard for him, every fibre of your being alight, twitching and beaming. He slows, giving you time to recover, sliding from you and turning you over, pulling your hips up before re-entering your molten core from behind.  
Your pleasure is still warming your bones as he begins to fuck you in all out, brutal carnal fury, groaning deep as he splits you around him, hands clasped at your hips, eyes fixed upon the sight of his cock rapidly assailing your soaking little hole. He pants hard, each twitch of his cock tightened upon by the clutch of your walls as he rapidly has you ascending again, coming with him as he paints your insides white, growling cusses as his release blinds him completely.  
You don’t even care about the three shillings you just won; all the prize you need is being turned and pulled into a set of strong arms, sharing kisses with your baby-faced demon as every drop of pleasure he so expertly bestowed upon you ebbs away.  
“Fancy letting me do that to you again sometime?” he asks, and you smirk immediately, turning him onto his back and seating yourself astride him. 
“You aren’t leaving here until you do it to me at least another three times,” you demand, leaning to kiss the centre of his chest, the vibrations from his chuckle tickling your lips.  
“Oh ar, bab. You can count on that.”  
336 notes · View notes
closets-closet · 8 days
Note
THIS COULD WORK WITH EITHER PRICE OR GHOST AND I LOVE BOTH SO MUCH SOO U PICK 😖
141 finding out on accident that ghost/price is married?!?! BEEN married. They bug him to introduce them to the missus, and he finally does it so they leave him alone, he takes them to his house made a home by the sweet bundle of light, shes a absolute darling, gorgeous thing. They’re kinda shocked how he pulled that
IM MELTINGGHFBDBSBZK
I LOVE THIS, could you imagine the chaos on base when Johnny or Kyle finds out about this mystery woman. Because we know damn well Simon pulled a drop dead gorgeous wife. Anywhosie here’s my take on this amazing prompt.
Tumblr media
“Simon Pleaseeeee” Johnny trails out his arms dramatically spread out infront of him. It was just recently Price slipped up and revealed to the team that Simon was married and has a Missus at home, and that’s all it took for Johnny and Kyle to lose their minds. “Simon” Kyle dead pans “Why won’t you let us see the lady” Simon huffs, before looking at both of them, frustration bubbling in his chest. “Not happening mate, work and personal life stay separate.” He grumbles one more time before pushing out of his seat, slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder and making his way to the door. “Now if you don’t mind, i’ve got my lady waitin’ for me at home.”
-
“Dove?” You hear your husband call from the front door of your shared home “I’m back” You appear from around the door way to the kitchen, apron tied around your waist and hair up “Welcome home” You smile “I’ve almost finished dinner for you” He walks into the kitchen immediately circling your waist with his hands burring his face in your neck “I’m conflicted” He admits quietly as he takes you in “The boys want to meet you, but I don’t want them to know how lucky i’ve gotten.” You sigh gently hooking your fingers under the black balaclava that covers his face, slowly pulling it off. “It’s your choice, but I don’t mind having them come by, I’ll make them dinner and everything” You hand brushes over his cheek before planing a small kiss across his lips. “Okay then” He whispers leaving into a little bit more “We’ll have them over”
-
“Finally” Johnny cheers excitedly as they walk up the drive to your shared home, a modest one story at the end of a small residential street. “Got you a quaint little place here” Price comments as they stand at the door, the smell of food wafting out from behind it. “Come on in fellas” Simon says as he pushes open the front door.
“Hello everyone” you greet, voice floating towards them. “It’s so nice to finally meet you all, Si happens to talk about you guys a whole bunch.” The smile you gives them melts the boys all to puddles. “Please come in, make yourself at home” you step aside letting them all in.
“Beautiful home you’ve got here ma’am” Kyle says stepping further into the house that’s littered with framed pictures of you and Simon together. “L.T never told me you clean up so well” Johnny teases as he examines a wedding photos that hangs over the kitchen bar. Simon moves to stand behind you, hands resting on your waist gently. Price moves to stand infront of you extending his hand “John Price” He introduces, You meet his hand shaking it firmly “Thank you for keeping him safe” You respond giving him a warm smile that melts him. “How long ye been married” Johnny pipes up from the living room where he’s petting yours and Simon’s cat. “About 3 years” you question out trying to remember exact dates. Simon lets out a long sigh, a symbol this is going to be a long night for him.
-
-
It’s about 23:30 when the boys leave. “That wasn’t so bad” You sigh taking a seat next to Simon on the couch, wine glass pinched between your fingers “They’re good kids” You mention snuggling close to your husband. “They are” He admits looking down at you, the smell of the whisky he’s drinking flooding your nose “Should have em around more often” you say looking to him “They make you smile in a way I don’t see to often” He looks to you smiling gently “I guess they do” He whispers getting closer to you pressing a small kiss to your lips.
I should be his wife *SIGH*
Tumblr media
201 notes · View notes
Text
cruel woman
roronoa zoro x reader, fluff
summary: you have the hots for zoro, but does he feel the same?
Tumblr media
The upper deck of the Sunny was shiny and clean; clipboard in hand as you descended the stairs to the kitchen. An itemized list of supplies written in neat handwriting on a piece of paper – Nami had asked if you could go around the ship and take inventory of what was needed and any special requests for the next island stop in a couple of days. The kitchen smelled like lemons, looked clean and a smiling Sanji greeted you with a simper of smile. He asked if you wanted some coffee and you said please, setting the clipboard down to go over it on the counter. He poured fresh coffee into a blue mug with the correct amount of creamer; he knew everyone’s coffee order and he was pleased when he brought the cup over, and you gave him pinch on his cheek.
The one on his face, not his ass – you didn’t need him going into cardiac arrest.
“Do you need anything for the kitchen or perhaps a special request?”
“Some time with you would be sufficient.”
“Very funny.” He had to try but then he got serious and read out a few things he needed for the kitchen. It took about ten minutes for the cook to go over everything but in the end, he was satisfied. Leaving the kitchen with your coffee, you stopped by Chopper’s office and visited the doctor for a bit. Adding more items to the list. Then it off to Ussop’s factory then Franky’s workshop. Finally, you reached the fella’s dorm and knocked, hoping to find Luffy but when you walked in – you got Zoro.
Shirtless in black sweats, damp hair, and a towel around his neck; it was obvious he had just got back from the bath, but you pretended not to care about his near perfect physique. Biceps, abs, triceps…all the ceps of his body…
“Like what you see, huh?”
He teased but you shrugged, holding up the clipboard. “Not really. Too broad. I like the leaner athletic type – like Sanji. So, do you need to put anything on the supply list?”
Zoro frowned. “Uh, no – I don’t think so.”
Staring at him, dull in the eyes, you took a long sip of coffee and inhaled contently. “Well, if you change your mind, still have a few days before we dock. See ya later.”
The man looked dumbstruck, but you left him to ease his ego; leaving quickly back up to the kitchen. Your entire face felt on fire and all you wanted to do was go to your bed and relieve yourself of a sick desire. Zoro had been flaunting himself a lot lately but maybe he wasn’t and your sudden interest in him was due to the lack of companionship. There was the option to share a bed with the cook, but he was too friendly with all the ladies, and you were a jealous fool most times. That endeavor would end up with a knife in some poor girl’s heart Sanji had made eyes at – it was best to leave that all alone. Even if you wanted to…you couldn’t look past Zoro.
Something about that broad shoulder idiot.
“Come for more coffee?”
“I’m all done, thank you.”
Sanji beckoned you over to the sink and you watched as he rinsed out the mug, handing it over for you to dry. He stood quietly for a moment until he asked if you had everything for the list and then he asked if Zoro needed anything. “He never needs anything or anyone.”
The comment slipped out of your mouth, and you winced. Sanji chuckled. “We really need to get you on land. If you’re starting to lust after Zoro, God, help us all.”
Nudging him in the ribs, you scolded him for making fun of your woes. “It’s getting serious, I walked in on him shirtless…”
“Oh, god, please stop.”
You laughed and handed over the clean mug. Sanji plucked it from your hands and returned it back to the cabinet it belonged in, turning to lean against the counter. He lit a cigarette and asked if you were really down that bad. His sincerity threw you into a laughing fit and he joined, until you reached over and touched his shoulder to hold you up. He laughed harder and tears were forming in your eyes just as the kitchen door swung open. Zoro walked in, with a shirt on, and a look of confusion when the two of you stared at him before bursting into a louder laugh.
“Idiots.”
He left the kitchen in a huff and eventually the laugher died down. Sanji wiped tears from his eyes and patted the top of your head. “You guys will figure it out, if not, my bed is always open to.”
“See that’s the problem, Mr. Prince,” you touched his tie and straightened it up before pushing him away. “I’m a jealous son of a bitch. I would have to pluck your eyes out from stopping you from staring at another woman.”
The cook smirked. “Point taken.”
….
The rest of the evening was uneventful; Sanji served dinner, everyone drank and went to bed with warm bellies. Nami slept right away but Robin was still up reading when you left the room for fresh air; a warm jacket because the sea was usually freezing during the night. Up on the deck, the ship was quiet sans for the sounds of waves gently lulling the vessel forward. Yawning, you walked over to the railing and leaned forward to stare down at the ocean. Eyes glued to the waves you didn’t notice someone moving to your side and when you finally stood straight – you jumped at the sight of Zoro. He grinned at your yelp and asked what you were doing out so late.
“I’m waiting for Sanji to finish up cleaning the kitchen so we can cuddle in his bunk.”
You were so wrong for that but the look of discontent on the swordman’s face brought on a gloating smile. He rolled his eyes and mentioned how bony Sanji was. “Have fun trying to keep warm.”
Retorting with a quip that noted all the ways to warm up one’s body, Zoro gripped the edge of the ship’s railing and glared out into the ocean. Cruel woman, that’s what he called you and you agreed. Finally realizing you were teasing him the entire time, Zoro loosened up and asked if you wanted to come back to his bunk. “I can keep you warm.”
Adjusting to the moonlight, you gave Zoro a once over and asked him why he wanted you in his bunk. The question perplexed the man, and you watched as the gears turned in his eyes, he seemed lost in thought for what felt ages but then he finally confessed that he just wanted you to. “Don’t have more of a reason than that…unless you really do want to sleep in the cook’s bed. Can’t stop you. But I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me lately, I’m not blind.”
“How have I been looking at you.” You challenge the man and his eyes narrowed, grabbing you light by the elbow. He grinned, body lingering close to yours. “Like you’re in heat.”
Pulling from him, you practically snarled at him. “You’re a real son of bitch, you know that?”
He let out a low chuckle, apologizing as he pulled you back. Words were never his forte, but he managed to tell you to stay, that he had always been driven by his dream, the crew, Luffy, but you had disrupted his life. “I’m not that damn Prince, I never cared about this kinda of thing.”  He held your hand carefully, as if you’d burn him. “I probably can’t give you everything you deserve…”
“What do you know about what I deserve?”
Zoro grew serious. “I’ll always have your back; I can guarantee that.”
Pretending to contemplate what he was saying, your finger tapped the edge of your chin and Zoro sighed. “Cruel woman.”
Laughing, you slipped both arms around his neck and he smiled, hands on your waist. The two of you stood silent, allowing yourselves time to devour the moment under the stars above the ocean – and the sound of the waves, pushing against the ship. Zoro let out rasped breath when your fingers massaged the back of his head, his entire body practically went into relaxation mode, and you laughed. “I’m not so cruel, am I?”
He roughly pulled you against his body and the two of you stared at each other, secret smiles on your faces. Hands on each other’s faces, your lips crashed just as the waves did and your heart skipped harder than you ever thought possible. You hoped he was feeling the same and by the way Zoro leaned in for another kiss – you knew he did. Breathless, he finally pulled away; cheeks red, lips bruised. He looked like a shy schoolboy and not the fierce man he was, it was endearing. He asked again if you wanted to come back to his bunk and the thought of being with him in the same room as the others made you uneasy and Zoro laughed. “Not like that, not with that cook in there too. Just sleep. I need sleep.”
Relieved, you agreed, and he took your hand – leading you to the men’s quarters. Quiet snores filled the room, drastic from the silence in the woman’s quarters every night. Zoro led you to his bottom bunk, got in first and moved over for you. Slipping down next to him, he immediately engulfed you in his arms – every muscle in his body surrounded you with ease and warmth. No blanket was needed, he was enough. With your back pressed against his chest, arms around your waist and his nose nuzzled against your hair – the two of you fell asleep instantly. Neither of you cared what the others would think when they woke up, completely unaware that Sanji would be the one to find you first. He would roll his eyes at the sight of you cradled in Zoro’s arms and the way you both drooled as if having the best sleep of your lives. Idiots, he would think but he knew better than most, the heart wanted what it wanted.
.....
tagging
@posessedbytheinternet @smolracoon25 @notthemainblog
@xentaipriest @xitara666 @rouzuchan @southside-otaku
@dimplewonie @stuckinthewrongworld @yourmomsgirl
@zoroshispanicwife @reneeprika @themossiestchick
@cyberneticsmoker @starrlovet
627 notes · View notes
Text
The cop and the cat
Summary: Leon finds a stray kitten outside the RPD building. He doesn’t know anything about cats but he stills rescues the kitten. Reader is veterinary nurse and helps Leon with his kitten.
Warning: fluff/comfort. reader and leon are roughly around the same age (early 20s). just cute vibes all around.
A/N: thought I might give y’all something wholesome after my last few fics :3 also, I don’t often write about RE2R Leon so here’s just a little drab
“If the sun refused to shine, baby, would I still be your lover?” - Ariana Grande, intro (end of the world)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Leon was often too busy in the police force to actually be able to live his life in peace. He would patrol the streets at night to ensure the citizen’s safety, he’d help the old lady cross the street and all of that. He’s a ray of sunshine but don’t let his soft exterior fool you. This man was passionate and dedicated to his work.
One night, he was sent over to a corner near a gas station since someone had called the police, claiming that two people were fighting and pulled out their firearms. As Leon neared the gas station in his patrol car, he saw that everybody had left. He exited the vehicle and with a confused face as he looked around.
He entered the store and walked up to the cashier, “Hey, someone called the cops earlier over a fight. Did they just leave or…?”
The cashier, an old man with glasses sitting atop his hooked nose, looked over at him from his book and sighed heavily. He closed his book and leaned against the cashier counter, “Those little rascals. They’re the chaos of the block. Everyday they pull a mediocre stunt and call the cops. They’re just pranks.” The man has obviously been in this situation before by the sound of his voice.
It was no lie that kids nowadays prank called the police a little too often. But since the police department had told Leon that regardless of a prank or not, they must take every call and situation seriously. Leon sighed and spoke to someone in the walkie-talkie near his shoulder, “This is Officer Kennedy, there wasn’t an actually accident. Some kids prank called the station.”
There was a slight static on the other side before a woman spoke up, “Okay, come back to the station. We’ll deal with the rest.”
Leon looked back at the old man and gave him a tight lipped smile, he felt bad for him but there was nothing much he could do.
He walked out of the gas station and heard a small ‘meow’ coming from the alleyway on the side of the store. He took out his flashlight and slowly walked over to where the sound came from.
The night was dark and a little chilly from the humidity. As Leon began to enter the dark alleyway, he saw a beaten box, ripped and barely holding itself together. He saw a group of kids huddled around it, laughing and sticking a stick inside as they taunted whatever was inside.
Leon sighed and called out to the kids, “Go home, it’s past curfew.” The group of younglings looked over at Leon and hurriedly ran out of the alley. They got in their bikes and rode off to god knows where. With a soft exhale Leon turned back towards the box and slowly approached it, his curiosity at the highest peak.
As he crouched down in front of the box, he saw a small black kitten hiding in the corner. Its tail was curved as its hairs stood up in fear. The kitten hissed at Leon and tried to look intimidating but ultimately failed. He chuckled and slowly picked up the little fur ball.
“Well aren’t you just a lucky fella,” Leon mumbled as the kitten rested on his palm. He stood up straight and flashed his flashlight on the small animal, making sure the kids didn’t harm it. Once Leon saw that the kitten wasn’t hurt, he walked back to the patrol car and sped off to the station.
-
He didn’t know why he took the animal to his apartment. He didn’t know why he was crouched on the floor watching the little baby kitten eat whatever leftovers Leon had.
He doesn’t know anything about pets- especially cats. Sure, he likes animals, but that doesn’t mean he’s actually good at taking care of one. The black kitten stood in Leon’s kitchen, happily eating away the food Leon had given it.
Leon did what anyone would- look it up online. He took out his phone and began to search on Google:
“How to take care of kitten”
“What to feed a kitten”
“How to know if kitten is feral”
For the next following days, with the help of Google and some of his friends, he bought wet cat food, a litter box with cat litter, a collar, and some toys for his new furry friend.
But don’t ask him about the scratches on his forearm. Cats hate baths and he had to learn this the hard way.
His friends came over to his apartment to check up on the kitten, he named it Becky because one of his friends told him it was a girl. And he never questioned it. If someone told him the cat was a girl, he’d go with it. Again, he doesn’t know anything about cats.
Becky has been acting strange after some time. She hasn’t been eating much and doesn’t play as much as she used to. Leon became very worried. If you think being a police officer stressed him, boy this was worse. He became absolutely anxious and paranoid- like a real parent.
One day, he decided to take Becky to the vet since his friends and Google weren’t useful. They kept scaring him and telling him Becky had rabies or that she’s going to die. He needed someone who would take his concerns seriously, so he resulted in going to the vet.
He’s never been in one so when he walked in, he was just as confused and scared as Becky. He hung the pet backpack over his shoulder as Becky anxiously looked around. He walked over to the front desk and spoke to a middle aged lady, “Hey, um- I’m here for a checkup?”
The lady turned to look at Leon and then began to type of the monitor she had, “Alright, what’s this checkup for? Who’s the patient?”
Leon took a deep breath and spoke calmly, “My cat, Becky. She’s been acting weird and hasn’t been eating her food as much.”
The lady nodded and typed away as she spoke, “Okay… have you ever been with us?” Leon shook his head no, “No, this is my first time having a pet.”
The lady paused and looked at him mildly shocked. She took out a small brochure and gave it to him, “Well, since you’re new here’s a list of the services we provide with the prices. There’s also information for pet owners regarding food and shelter. You can wait over there-“ she pointed to a sitting area, “Someone will be with you. What’s your name?”
“Leon S. Kennedy,” He replied as he put the brochure in his pocket.
“Alright, Mister Kennedy. Just wait and we’ll send someone out for you.”
The lady left momentarily and Leon walked over to an empty chair. He took off his pet carrier backpack and rested it on his lap. As he waited, he couldn’t help but look around and admire all the pet owners. Everyone looked like they knew what they were doing except him. He was so nervous and scared for his little girl.
“Becky?” The voice of a girl broke his trance. He quickly looked over at you who had called the name of his kitten. You had your hair was in a low bun, your scrubs were a bright shade of blue- much like everyone else who worked here. You had an iPad in your hands.
“Here,” he shyly raised his hand and you smiled at him with warmth. You walked over to him and spotted the cute little kitten. You looked down at the iPad and began to scroll, “Your name is Leon, correct?”
He nodded, “Yeah. Leon.” You smiled softly, “Okay, Leon, is there a reason why Becky needs a checkup?” You looked at him from the iPad.
I blew out some air before speaking, “Well, she hasn’t been eating as much and she doesn’t play anymore. All she does is sleep all day and I’m getting worried. She’s also gotten skinnier.”
Your face turned serious as you wrote this stuff down on the iPad, you’ve always had a passion for animals. You never made fun of someone for their concerns and Leon noticed this. He felt grateful that someone finally was able to help him.
“Has she been throwing up? Diarrhea?” You furrowed your brows in concern as he shook his head, “No, she barely even moves at times. Sometimes she’ll just stay in my bed all day until I come back from work.”
You hummed and kept going with the questionnaire, “Has she been outside the past 30 days?”
He nodded, “I picked her up from the street a little over a week ago.”
You nodded and then gave him the iPad, “Fill out the information- your email, address, phone number- I’ll go notify a doctor.”
He took the iPad from your hands as you walked away. He skimmed through the questions and answered them as he waited for you to come back.
Once you had come back, you motioned for him to follow you. He stood up, with the backpack in his hands, and followed behind you to one of the rooms.
You closed the door as the doctor introduced himself to Leon, “Good afternoon, mister Kennedy, I assume this is Becky?” The doctor pointed to the backpack as Leon nodded.
Leon laid the backpack on the table in the center and opened it. Becky didn’t move nor did she meow or hiss at anyone. You stood next to Leon as you stared at little kitten. Leon had been able to catch a whiff of your scent, vanilla with a hint of sweat. Must be from all the running around with pets all the time, he thought.
The doctor took Becky into his hands and began to thoroughly inspect her. You noticed Leon’s worried face and chuckled faintly, “Don’t worry, she’ll be fine. He does this all the time,” you reassured. Leon gave you a weak smile before turning back to his cat.
“You said her name was Becky?” The doctor asked with a raised brow. Leon nodded, “Yeah, why?”
The doctor motioned for you to check Becky and as soon as you did. You tried not to laugh by biting down a smile. “What’s so funny?” Leon asked with a nervous chuckle.
“Becky isn’t a girl… he’s a boy,” you answered with a small laugh.
Leon’s face fell shocked. How could he have not noticed his own cat was a boy. His friends definitely lied to him. Leon ran a hand through his face in shock, “But is he okay?”
The doctor nodded, “He doesn’t seem to have an external injury. Y/n, go get my tools. I want to check something.”
You nodded and swiftly stepped out of the room, leaving Leon alone with the doctor.
You came back with a small metal box containing all sorts of tools Leon doesn’t really know about. But he trusted the two of you.
The doctor began to inspect the kitten’s ears, eyes, paws, and mouth. “I don’t see anything…” the doctor mumbled under his breath.
“Have you checked for missing teeth?” You suggested as you moved over to the check the kitten’s mouth. Your gentle hands slowly parted the kittens mouth open as the doctor shone its light on the cat’s teeth, “Nope. Nada.”
Leon sighed, “There’s nothing wrong with him?” His voice was full of worry and concern. The doctor shrugged as you caressed the kitten, “Maybe he’s tired of the same food. Cats don’t like to eat the same thing all the time, they need variety. How long have you been feeding it wet food?”
“Ever since I got her- I mean him,” you looked over at him and smiled as he corrected himself, “Does he drink water or milk?”
“Water…” Leon mumbled, he knew cats drank milk but he didn’t know until when. The doctor eyes bulged out of his face, “Water? You should be giving it milk.” There was no judgment in his voice, the older man was simply just too shocked.
“I didn’t know…” Leon mumbled back and looked away awkwardly. “It’s fine, he won’t die,” you reassured him.
“We’ve got a few food options for week old kittens down at the lobby, I can help you with that,” you replied softly as the older doctor kept staring at the kitten. Leon nodded and smiled at you, “I’d appreciate it.”
“Well then, looks like this little guy is tired of the same food and has been putting up a tantrum,” the doctor concluded as he put the kitten back inside the backpack.
You chuckled and Leon looked away in embarrassment. His ears red from the lack of information he had about his own pet.
You walked him back to the front desk. He paid for the visit and then followed you to a vending machine with cat food and snacks.
“Okay, so- this is good for oral hygiene, this one’s good for their kidneys, and this one’s good for their pooping habits,” you said as you pointed to different types of snacks. Leon could only stare, he didn’t even know cats needed so much to stay healthy.
“Wow… that’s a lot of things…” he muttered under his breath, you chuckled and nodded. “Cats are high maintenance sometimes. They’re picky with what they want.”
“I can tell,” he replied and looked down over at you, “Which one do you recommend, doc?”
You chuckled again and shook your head, “I’m hardly a doctor,” you looked over at the snacks and then pointed to a blue packet, “Most kittens love this brand, you should give it a try.”
He looked over at your finger pointing to the cat food and nodded. He pulled out his money but you stopped him, “Don’t worry, it’s on me.”
The way you smiled at him sent him butterflies to his stomach. He nodded slowly and put his wallet back into his pocket, “If you’re okay with that, sure.”
You smiled and pulled your card out to pay for the cat food. The vending machine then dropped the pack and you leaned down to pick it up. You held it out to him, “So, is his name still Becky?”
Leon chuckled and took the pack from your hands, “No, I’ll think of a different name. Thanks again, I’ve never had a cat before and it gets confusing sometimes.”
You nodded in understanding, “I get it. It’s okay to not know things, we don’t judge. Here-“ you pulled out your phone and gave it to him, “We should exchange numbers so I can help you with your cat.”
He shyly took your phone and put his number, you sent him a small text to let him know that it was your number that popped on his screen. You both smiled at each other as the moment passed.
“Well, I’ve gotta get back to work,” you replied quietly and took a step back, “Text me if anything happens?”
Leon nodded with a smile, “Yeah- I’ll… I’ll text you.”
He felt like a middle school boy all over again. Something about you made him like you. You were kind, calm, funny… how could he not think you’re cute?
Leon walked back to his car and drove to his apartment.
-
You and Leon had exchanged a few text messages, mostly about his cat whose new name became Walter. He watched Breaking Bad that day it just stuck to him.
Turns out the doctor was right. Walter was silently throwing a fit because he didn’t like eating the same food all the time.
Some of the text messages between you two turned into questions about each other. He told you he was a cop and he told you how he actually found Walter.
You FaceTimed, called, messaged whenever you either of you could.
Leon was so sure that this cat would definitely make his life interesting and now that you were in his life, it would become even more important.
348 notes · View notes
jointherebellion215 · 1 month
Text
Worth
Tumblr media
John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader
Summary: You're swept off your feet by one Major John C. Egan, and you love every second of it. Sequel to Birdie.
Word Count: 3.0k
Tags: female!reader, mechanic!reader, women™, period typical sexism & misogyny, fun date night, dude w/ a small dick gets rightfully called out, mostly just fun date stuff, tons of fluff
A/N: Hello all! Thank you so much for the kind words on Birdie. I really appreciate everyone's comments, they warm my heart right up. I almost didn't write this, but the thought of having these two smooch it up was too good to pass up. I also completely headcanon that Bucky has the biggest sweet tooth, oops. As always, I'd be most gracious if you were to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog :)
Read the OC Version of this story on AO3!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, please don't copy, repost, or translate my writing without explicit prior permission. Don't even think about it, AI!
A knock at the door brings butterflies to your stomach.
“Oh, he’s here!” Irene shouts, which is immediately met with your shushing, as well as Teresa’s.
You nervously pat your hair and check over your outfit for the evening. You’re spending your second day’s leave on a date with Bucky Egan. He had approached you last night at the pub, asking if you wanted to grab dinner. Alone. 
You, of course, said yes.
Teresa and Irene go to answer the door while you gather your purse, stuffing it with your essentials. Your friends greet him at the same time, sounding like twins.
“Good evening, Major!”
“Good evening, Major!”
You hear his deep voice reply, only a small bit of surprise leaking into his voice.
“Good evening, ladies. Is Birdie around? We have dinner plans.”
“I’m here! Hi.” You step around the wall that hides you from the front door, taking a look at the man you’d been crushing on for months. He stands tall and confident in his neatly pressed uniform, hat covering most of his dark curls. His mouth gapes, giving you a once over and attempting to speak up.
“I- You-…Uh, wow. Y-you look…” But any sweet words he attempts to say are interrupted by Irene, who comes in hot with a manic smile.
“Did you know that my daddy taught me how to shoot when I was just a little girl? I’m real good at it. They call me Oakley, back home, cause of how great a marksman I am. Y’know, like Annie Oakley?” She stepped forward, puffing up her chest and giving a frightening grin to Major Egan. You and Teresa exchanged confused looks, not knowing quite where she was going with this.
“I’m not allowed a sidearm or a rifle over here, but I’m sure I could easily borrow one from any of the fellas on base should you break my best friend’s hea—”
“OKAY! We don’t wanna be late, all the tables might be taken soon. Gotta go. Love you. Bye!” You quickly shove past the blonde, stepping over the threshold. You take Bucky’s hand and practically drag his tall form down the hallway, away from your best friend’s attempt at a shovel talk.
You faintly hear Teresa’s well wishes to you amid the aggressively whispered conversation she has with Irene. The last words you hear before the elevator door closes in front of you are a heavily accented protest from Irene.
“What? I was just trying to..!”
The pair of you stand in the elevator in silence. A slight rocking indicates the starting motion of it, which snaps you back to reality. Looking down, you realize that you’re still holding hands with Bucky. You quickly separate your hand from his, heat rising to your cheeks.
“Your friends seem nice.”
Your head snaps to glance at Bucky, who is already looking at you. A sincere smile graces his face, not a hint of mocking in his eyes. 
“I’m glad you have them looking out for you.” 
You feel your face start to cool down, making you comfortable enough to respond. 
“They drive me nuts sometimes. But they’re the best friends I could ever ask for.” You mean every word. 
You see John nod, so you turn back to look to the elevator doors in front of you. An awkward pause.
“You look beautiful.”
Another pause. “What?”
“It’s what I meant to say earlier. That you look beautiful. Because you do.”
Heat quickly returns to your cheeks, spreading throughout your whole upper body. You give a bashful smile, peeking up at him through your lashes. You gaze into his eyes for a moment.
“Thank you, Johnny. You look quite handsome yourself.” The Major adjusts his hat, covering just the tips of his ears. He returns your gaze with an uncharacteristically nervous grin. The floor gives a slight rattle, elevator door and gate opening to reveal the lobby.
John straightens up, holding out his arm for you to take. You tentatively weave your hand within the crook of his elbow. He gently presses his arm in, bringing your body closer to his. 
You meet your other hand in its position and let Bucky lead you out of the hotel and into the evening air.
“That was so delicious! I never knew that a roast could be so tender…”
The pair of you were walking arm-in-arm down a cobblestone street, just having finished dinner. It was a wonderful time. Bucky had been the perfect gentleman, but made his interest in you clear without being sleezy.
He was entirely focused on you the whole time. He asked questions and was genuinely invested in your answers. Conversation came to the two of you like a duck to water. After a shared glass of wine, his hand had slowly inched towards yours. Soon he had cradled it in his, like you were a precious commodity, until your meals arrived. You could hardly keep your eyes off of each other long enough to even promptly acknowledge the wait staff, which you were sure annoyed some and amused others.
Safe to say, John Egan was doing his best to sweep you off your feet.
You hadn’t discussed any other plans for after dinner, but the walk you’re on now is nice enough to give you reason to stick close together.
Bucky nods along, “And that fruit tart? Incredible.”
You laugh, leaning into your date, “I knew that would be your favorite part. You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, don’t you?” 
Bucky holds his hands up with a mischievous smirk on his face, “Hey, I plead the fifth.” 
“I’ll admit, I’ve never seen someone so adamant on having some coffee with his sugar.” You continue to tease him. He nudges you playfully, giving a smooth grin in return.
“Hey, we’re in a war! If you see something sweet,” Bucky surprises you by picking you up and twirling you around, getting a full belly laugh from you as he sets you back on the ground.
“You gotta snatch it up and enjoy it while you can.”
You have a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about food. 
By that point, you’re leaning against his front, hands on both of his shoulders. The moment has shifted into something else. Something different. His eyes roam your face, eventually stopping on your lips. Just as he starts to lean in, the moment is shattered by the sound of instruments starting up nearby. Bucky flinches, cursing the ill-timed disruption. 
Oblivious to his turmoil, you gasp in delight and look around for the source of the music.
“Do you hear that? I think there’s a band playing!” 
You spot a few people walk into what looks like a club. It barely a stone’s throw from where you’re both currently standing. 
Bucky quickly recovers, “Should we grab a drink? Have a dance or two?”
You beam at him, and his heart stutters in his chest once more. After you give a nod, you place your hand in his arm and let him lead you into the club.
The two of you step into the establishment, and the energy is almost electric. There are mills of people walking about, drinking, talking, laughing. There’s a great score more on the dance floor, hopping and jiving along to the band you now knew you’d heard earlier. There weren’t a lot of uniforms present, but the ones that were were RAF.
Bucky guides you to the bar, hand on your back until you're both sat on a pair of stools. Your drinks are quickly ordered and served, so your night continues. You both allow yourselves to talk shop for a moment, so your conversation turns towards what you were working on before your leave. As you get to discussing the more intricate parts of your project, you hear a scoff from behind you.
John quickly looks over your shoulder, spotting the culprit.
“Excuse me, is there a problem here?”
You turn around to find a uniformed man taking a sip of his whiskey, RAF logo plastered on the lapel. He mockingly shakes his head, placing the glass down on the bar.
“No, no problem at all.”
Bucky, ever the confrontationist, persists. “It seems like there’s a problem here.”
You gesture towards the man, silently indicating that he was welcome to speak his mind. 
“It’s not enough that you Yanks come over to our country, destroy our pubs and disrespect our women with your recklessness. But you can’t even keep your own women in check! She should be at home, away from the war, for God’s sake. Taking care of the house and the children. You know, doing feminine duties.”
You had heard all of this before, so it was no skin off your back to hear it again. You roll your eyes and decided to just ignore him. Then the man started to laugh, as if he was in on a private joke.
“I mean, a female mechanic? Between that and your daytime missions, it’s no wonder you’re all dropping like flies.”
You let out an exhale, letting the air stream out through your nose. In your periphery, you see Bucky start to stand— to, no doubt, escalate the situation. You stop him with a hand on his chest. He sits back down, looking between you and the man who had just insulted you. You set your glass down, hopping off the stool and giving a slow clap. 
“I’m so glad to know that some people still live in the Stone Age, where apparently all a woman is good for is cooking and giving birth! Thank you so much for showing us exactly what a lack of education and individual thought looks like! See where we are—over in modern times— women can do whatever the hell they want. That includes fixing your planes and jeeps, operating your radios, driving your trucks, and even training your allies to use machine artillery!”
The RAF soldier realizes what he’s gotten himself into but is backed into a corner of the bar as you pace forward with each scathing word that leaves your mouth.
“Never mind all the bullshit you just spouted about what a woman is fit to do. I think that women can decide for ourselves exactly what we can and cannot do. As for my countrymen, I’m proud to serve alongside them. They go up every day willing to sacrifice themselves so that the rest of us don’t have to. They’re gonna be remembered for their bravery and grit. They’re not cowardly enough to hem and haw and stick up their noses at the thought of a woman doing something other than popping out a kid and ironing their pleats.”
The music has dulled down, but you don’t have the complete attention of the club. That gives you the courage to say your final piece.
“Never you mind. I'm confident that the men I serve with, including the man I have with me tonight, aren’t anything like you. Thank God for that! They're not so…” You take an exaggerated glance towards the man’s crotch, scrunching up your nose. “…small-minded.”
Leaving the gaping man behind, you turn to Bucky and ask if he wants to go get some air. He picks his jaw up off the floor quick enough to nod and lead you back outside into the street.
Hey, hanging around Irene pays off sometimes.
As you step out into the night air, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You feel John step up behind you, voice carefully asking,
“Hey, are you okay? Birdie?”
You continue to stand with your eyes closed. You just needed a moment.
“I’ve come too far to let anyone’s opinion of me, or my career choices, effect me.”
You open your eyes and look over your shoulder at your date. He gives an understanding nod, stepping closer to you. He places his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. You lean back into him, closing your eyes once more, letting him comfort you for the time being.
“Sorry if I ruined the night.”
You can feel a rumble from Bucky’s chest as he chuckles. “Oh, this night’s far from ruined. In fact, that was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen.”
One of your eyes pops open. You crane your neck to peek at him, “Even better than the time you told me about Curt knocking out an RAF officer in one punch?”
“Yep.”
“Winning that bet to get your bicycle?”
“Oh, for sure.”
“Better than your fruit tart from dinner?”
His smile widens, “Okay, let’s not get crazy here. Maybe it was top ten.”
“Top ten?!” You playfully gasp, turning around to face him again. You rest your hands on your hips, “What’s a girl gotta do to rank above a fruit tart around here?”
“Well…” You scoff and shove Bucky at the cheeky smirk he gives you. You’re quickly distracted by the sound of the band inside starting up again. This time with a familiar tune.
“Oh, your song’s on, Johnny!”
Bucky tosses his hat to the side, steps back and gives a very unserious bow. He then sneers with a hyper-nasal impression of the RAF officer you’d just affronted.
“My lady.”
You roll your eyes and give a joking curtsy in return, taking his offered hand. He pulls you into a proper stance for a waltz, which is a complete offset to the jive song that reaches your ears. You both jokingly hop along in the awkward squared formation for a moment, giggling to yourselves. 
He gently pushes on your hip while outstretching his hand, so you take the cue and twirl until you’re both standing at each other’s fingertips. A quick grasp of your hand and a pull twirls you right back into his arms, bumping into his chest. The moment made you burst into laughter, leaning into your dance partner until the song ends. 
The next song is a much slower tune, giving Bucky the chance to pull you in close. You hum along to the band playing, sidling up to the Major’s chest. He places a hand in yours and loops the other around your waist. Your free arm gently drapes under his and over his shoulder, encouraging a lean into his firm body. You both give a slow sway, leading each other back and forth in the quiet echoes of the street. Closer than before.
“You know, I’ve been plucking up the courage to ask you to dinner for a while now.” 
You lay your head on the knuckles of your hand that rest on his shoulder, responding lowly. 
“Really?”
You continue to sway.
“Yeah.”
You’re curious, so you ask, “What made you finally do it?”
He thinks on the answer for a moment, almost chewing on his thoughts. John is not the kind of person to typically contemplate over an answer, so you gift him all the time in the world to respond. You recognize how important that is to him.
“I… I think that it was a lot of little things.” He pulls you in closer. “Your smile, your eyes, the way you talk about the things you love. Birdie, you are so personable with everyone you come into contact with and it’s so magnetic.” 
The flow of compliments shocks you, not expecting this barrage of details to come from the man in front of you. But you dance on anyways.
“But I really think what did me in was yesterday, at the pub. When you looked at me during your song.”
You remember. You know exactly what he was talking about. Whatever he must have felt, you know that you felt it too.
He continues to speak in an intimate tone as you sway along in the street.
“I felt my entire life click into place. It was like everything suddenly made sense. I didn’t have to wonder about what my life was going to be like in five, ten, fifteen years. Because I knew.”
He pulls back to look you in the eye, and the amount of vulnerability in his eyes floors you. 
“I’ll be honest, it scared the shit outta me. It terrified me.”
You understand what he meant. This is all new to him, as it is to you. You pull his forehead to touch yours, noses gently brushing one another, as you offer your best words of comfort in that moment.
“Sometimes, you have to do what scares you the most to find out what’s worth doing.” 
He cups your face, letting his lips ghost against yours. He made his intentions clear, but it was up to you to decide how you move forward.
So, you close your eyes and take the leap.
Your lips press into his, hands stroking the arms that were framing your face. He immediately responds in kind, lips moving in tandem with yours. You melt into him at the reciprocated motion. His arms soon move to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. Your arms reach around his neck, hands resting at the nape of his neck. As he deepens the kiss, you run your hands up, down, and through the dark curls on the back of his head, earning a groan from your partner.
A burst of warmth sparks from within your very being, traveling further and further through your body until you’re consumed by flames. Half of your mind is scrambling to make sense of reality, and the other half is completely consumed by passion.
After a moment, you reluctantly separate from one another, panting to catch your breath. It’s as if the world stopped spinning when you connected, and then started up again when you parted. 
Giving a nervous look to the man you just kissed, you’re elated when he gives you an ear-to-ear grin. He grasps one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. His other hand comes up to cup your face again, thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.
You stay silent for the time being, letting the moment marinate. He brings up your joined hands to kiss the back of your palm. Your heart jumps with joy at the sight.
Bucky gives an exhale before breaking the silence.
“You are most definitely worth it.”
208 notes · View notes
Text
Dear John || Pt.1
Masters of the Air Fanfiction
Tumblr media
Requested: ☑️ My sweet Bri begged for a love-letter-centric Egan fic and with her wonderfully infectious ideas this was produced, the first part of many.
Summary: Major John Egan wasn’t the pen-pal sort but a couple of hours into a dark night full of writing condolence letters, he finds himself wondering why he never tried his hand at the nicer forms of correspondence. Who better to reanimate his numb inspiration than the glamorous Miss Lana Tierney? -the army’s girl next door, the pinup so prolific she was practically a wall paper print and Bucky’s long-standing cinematic crush. It’s not like she’ll read it anyways, tucked up in luxury in Beverly Hills with carts of tedious fanmail burned in her back yard each day, his letter will get lost in the mix. It’s harmless. That thought -and the booze- may loosen his pen a little too much but it’s alright, it’s not like she’ll read it. Right? Right.
It was specified in the request to use or create some of those old WWII dirty acronyms, so in here you have Bucky making up his own for his starlet crush (acorn). I’m ripping off a few ladies here, Lana Turner, Betty Grable, Hedy Lamarr to name a few -the moodbaord is for general aesthetics, I try to keep my fem!readers and oc’s as ambiguous physically as possible. (Besides the fact Johnny Egan finds you mouthwatering, which -be honest with yourself here sweet thing!!- he would.
Rating: 18+ this is the letter writing, vintage form of sexting. i kid you not, this man swings wildly from sweet as pie to downright filthy and vintage slang for anatomical parts is used freely. This would make a better shameful diary entry than a letter but he’s a rogue and he’s in a war, cut him some slack.
Fun game: how many times can Major Egan manage to mention Buck in a horny fan letter to his crush?
Dear A.C.O.R.N.
It is highly unlikely that you remember me, but, all the same, we have met. Now, hear me out, I’m sure fellas say that to you all the time but my point still stands and to match them I’ll do you one better, seeing as how I am not buttering you up for something in return -I have met you, yes, but I have also sung to you.
There. Said it.
Not that you’d recall that either, but then again maybe you would, but either way it doesn’t matter as the entire reason I am writing to you is because it is entirely unlikely you will ever open this god-awful endeavor made of pen and ink.
I am quite drunk, you see.
A necessary medicine. And they do make good whiskey here, one of the few joys they haven’t rationed yet. It’s got me wondering what’s your poison of choice. Something fruity? Or are you an olive sucker? Like that salt on the rim? Or maybe you go for somethin’ silky and warm goin’ down your throat? Which-ever it is, I bet you’d be a surprise, sweet ACORN, I just know it. You were a surprise at the canteen. Back in Jersey? Before shipping out? I know you were on a whole tour and kisses were goin’ for dollars but still, you were a surprise.
A lovely one, really. And that’s the point of this letter. To tell you that you're lovely and while I’m not the pen-pal sort, I’ve written home 80 letters tonight to families whose boys I was supposed to bring home. It got me thinking: Bucky, why the hell don’t you write nice letters? Whyd you only write ‘em now that you gotta? And it occurred to me then that the one silver lining in this whole Air Exec job is the desk, the lamp and the office.
I could write anybody from here. I could write you.
And you wouldn't read it so I could write anything. And it could be a nice letter. ‘Cause I don’t know anybody of yours to tell you anythin’ sad about them and you don’t know me except that I’m alive and drunk. Which is better than those poor eighty two bastards. Which reminds me, I’ve still got two more but maybe Buck will take those, he took seventeen off to his bunk to write from there. Buck doesn't have a desk because he’s not as important as me and he has all the luck.
You’ve met Buck, too, Acorn. He was the appalled pretty one with the straw colored hair pulling me off you after we had our duet. He objects to your nickname, see, even though you didn’t seem to mind. You were lovely, A.C.O.R.N. And I’d not wanna ruin this letter by telling you what it means, not now that I’m actually writing to you and determined to be nice but Buck knows and while he agrees with me as much as any man in the nation that you’ve got the most robust rack on the silver screen -he has objections, you see. So it wasn’t the song or the canoodling he didn’t like, and I still say, he broke up a little love affair that night. Bastard. So I’m writing to you now because as the acronym suggests, I’ve got a goal in my mind in regards to you. I tell myself -Bucky, there’s reasons to make it back.
Reasons, Bucky, reasons. Like Acorn and her halo of gorgeous hair that smelled like coconuts and the way she thought my new lyrics were pretty clever. That’s what you said, acorn, you said they were pretty clever. Now I may have been a little drunk then, too, but I think you might’ve been tipsy, that coke smelled too strong to be straight. I still have the straw you gave me, it’s bent to hell but I’ve taken it up each mission. I’m not counting on it for luck so much as a reminder of the aforementioned reasons. To come back. Your lipstick has mostly worn off but I figure it’s still the same.
You had your precious lips around it. That’s what matters.
And that’s the sorta sentence that makes Buck think I shouldn’t write letters.
But what he can’t accuse me of is being dishonest or vague. I’m being straight with you. You deserve that much, you were lovely and very straight shootin’ yourself, dear little girl. I could pinch your cheeks right now, you’re so sweet. And don’t think me a coward for sayin’ all this under assumption that you won’t read it. I hope you don’t since it’s not worth your time and if you do I wish I’d written less about me and more about you but I need you to know if we were face to face I’d say the same:
You were lovely, you ARE lovely!!!! and I think all your work for us boys is swell and you’ve got the bestest set of knockers any of us have ever seen and I’m stayin’ alive in hopes to see ‘em again some day and while the girls here are swell and sweet they aren’t zippy like you. At least not the ones who’ve put out so far. And if I had you face to face, I’d find a way to make you laugh again and I’d tell you to your face you’re lovely and if I’d been David Nivin in Love Trap with you, I’d have stayed in that little kitchen with you and ate all your burnt flapjacks and watched you in your apron and made babies with you till we were old.
Anyway. It needed saying. And maybe I’ll say it to your face given the chance again. I was working my way up to a proposition for burgers and milkshakes when Buck ruined it. But maybe you’ll tour? Here!! Over here. In England or maybe in Europe once we kick the Nazis bastards out.
Now that’s motivation. That’s a reason! -clear out a nice little swath of land through fortress europe so Miss Lana Tierney can sing in the city of lights surrounded by nothin’ but wine and good food and a buncha boys who love and appreciate her.
Because we do, ma’am. We do.
And make no mistake, I do this to keep the country safe and try to bring as many boys home as I can but every second I also think - it’s where you are too, and so I must continue keeping it safe.
If you, by some godawful chance, do read this letter, please don’t feel pressed to respond or pull out a restraining order. Think of it this way, it’d just be one more “Dear John” letter and the system is clogged as it is. You just deserve a nice letter and my wrist is past sore, one more doesn't matter. And being unable to deliver nice, I’ve written this.
~ I am ever your respectful (and hammered) admirer, Maj. John Egan
P.S. if you do happen to read this I’m sorry. Buck told me not to do this but I just had to Acorn. You’re just too swell and I really have got to get myself to a theater before long, I miss your Angel face.
Tumblr media
Masterlist
Thank you for reading! This was entirely out of my usual comfort zone but I’ve had fun writing it and I’m trying to tune my ear to pick up his voice, that’s been stretching. This series will have many letters in it but there will also be fic, so fear not. I’ve got some plans already figured out for this series but I do love a suggestion or ten so have at the inbox with what you’d like to see play out.
Hope you enjoyed, if you’d like to be tagged in future MOTA fics, drop a note below.
315 notes · View notes
allzelemonz · 1 month
Text
Settle: Merle Dixon X Male Reader
Tumblr media
Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘man’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, language Warnings: Slurs (homophobic), Merle Dixon is his own warning, mention of Merle’s SS symbol, typical southern prejudice/homophobia, neck kissing, anal fingering, anal sex, cockwarming, hand job, cuddling, top Merle and bottom Reader Summary: After striking out with every woman in camp, Merle turns to you and ignores the gay aspect of sleeping with another man in favor of getting laid. A/N: Imagine my lack of surprise but utter disappointment in finding no male reader shit for Merle. Written out of spite. Enjoy.
After a third pill and a third strikeout, Merle is almost certain he’ll have to handle himself tonight. No woman in the whole damn camp wants any action, even with a touch of good ol’ Southern charm Merle attempted. Not a bite from anyone. So Merle stumbled through the cluster of tents, only half as high as he’d like to be and blue balls stiff between his legs. Just as he’s about to turn a corner towards his tent on the outskirts with his brother’s, he catches a pretty sight.
Not that Merle is gay. Of course not. But the man is asleep with his tent partly unzipped, shirt off and back arched like a damn whore. How could Merle not stare just a little. His eyes trail over your back, bare and just fuzzied by the drugs in his system that he may mistake things enough to ignore the dick between your legs.
So he kicks your foot, waking you up.
Your hand goes to your knife first, then you turn to see it’s not something dead behind you. “What, Merle?”
“Ya a queer?”
You squint at him, off put by the way he says it. “Why’re you asking?”
He shrugs. “Fella can’t be curious.”
“Not with that Nazi symbol on your bike you can’t.” You close your hand around your knife. “Go away.”
Merle chuckles, raising his hand in mock surrender. “Woah, woah, there… I was just askin’.”
You stare at him for a moment. “Fine. Yeah, I like men. I’m a queer. Are we done here?”
Merle bites at the inside of his cheek, trying to come up with the right words. “Ya let me fuck ya?”
“What?” You ask, sitting up to look at him properly.
Merle scoffs. “Ya heard me. Would ya?”
“Why would you-“
“Ladies ‘round here bein’ stingy.” Merle shrugs. “Hole’s a hole.”
“You’re joking.” You say in disbelief.
“Ain’t like I never fucked an ass before. It’s the same shit.”
You shake your head. “No, it’s really not.”
“Aw, come on, I’ll be quick.” Merle attempts a pout. “Ain’t no trouble.”
You sigh, shaking your head because you know it’s a dumb idea somewhere deep down. “Fine.”
Merle grins. “Atta boy.”
“Get on with it then.” You sigh, watching Merle step inside. “Zipper.”
Merle turns and zips the tent closed behind him, fumbling with it for longer than any regular person would. When he turns his hands go straight to his belt.
You watch his fingers move for a second. “You ever fucked another man before.”
Merle snorts. “Course not. I ain’t a queer.”
“It’s a little different, you know.”
“What?” Merle sneers. “I gotta play with yer pecker er somethin’?”
You shake your head. “Not necessarily. But you have to stick your fingers in for a while and stretch things out.”
“Yer just picky.”
“Maybe. Just do it, asshole, or I’m not gonna let you fuck anything.”
Merle pulls his belt free. “Fine. Pants off then, sweetheart.”
You huff, annoyed at Merle already, but it’s been far too long since you’ve had this chance. You pull your pants off, ignoring Merle’s eyes on your legs and turn around to lay on your stomach.
“Alright.” Merle grins, shuffling up behind you and nudging your legs apart. “What am I doin’ here, sweetheart?”
You turn your head back, half wanting to see the sight. “Put your fingers in your mouth.”
“Why?”
“Spit’s the only lube we have.” You mutter. “Just do it.”
Merle glares slightly, but does as he’s told and presses three fingers past his lips. He sucks on them, his other hand already going to your hip. It’s clear he’s never been the type to do this with any of the women he’s been with either. Without prompting, he drops the hand down and traces until he finds your rim.
“Ya ready for Merle’s magic fingers, boy?”
“Shut up.”
Merle chuckles, circling his finger around before slowly pushing inside. “Whew…” Merle exclaims. “Tight little thing, ain’t ya?”
You open your mouth to speak but Merle’s finger drags against your prostate and all you can manage is a groan as you bury your face down into your pillow.
He leans over you, his hand moving up to grip at the bare skin of your chest. “I find somethin’ good?”
You nod, mindlessly pushing back into him. “Fuck, Merle…”
He repeats the drag, his fingers moving quickly to fuck whatever sounds he can get out of you. You don’t expect much more, but he leans down and presses his lips to your neck. He trails sloppy kisses over your skin, his fingers fully thrusting into you at a quick pace.
“You want me?” Merle murmurs next to your ear. “Want Merle to fuck ya better than some fairy ever could, don’t ya?”
“Yeah…” You answer, spreading your legs as much as you can. “Why you’re here, isn’t it?”
Merle grins against your skin. “You just be a good boy. You’re good at that.”
He sits back up, removing his fingers and positioning himself properly behind you. His hands fix on your waist, pulling you back and propping you up on your widespread knees. You feel his tip press against you for just a second before he presses inside. There certainly isn’t enough lubrication or preparation, so the stretch of being entered hurts just enough to make a few whines form in your throat. Merle pushes all the same, stretching you open and filling you up with everything he has.
He groans as he bottoms out, running a hand over your spine. “You feel so damn good, sweetheart.” He squeezes your hip slightly. “Might turn me gay…”
Before you can think much about that, Merle begins to piston his hips at a quick pace. Both of his hands grip tightly at your hips and the force of his thrusts presses you forward into your pillow, only held up at the waist for Merle to fuck into you properly. You let him, relaxing into the hold and letting him use you because the slide of his dick hitting your prostate feels better than anything else. Merle pushes you down to lay flat, leaning over you and rocking into you as his head dips against your shoulder. The sleeping bag below you rubs at your dick with every thrust Merle gives you.
“Knew I liked you.” Merle mutters, half to himself. “Better than any damn woman… shit, sweetheart.”
Merle’s hips stutter and he groans as he releases, burying himself as deep as he can into you. You take heavy breaths as Merle relaxes on top of you, trying to ignore the squirming feeling of not having finished. Then Merle’s hand snakes under you, pumping furiously fast and gripping hard until you mutter his name and your vision blurs for a moment as you spurt cum onto your sleeping bag.
His hand slows to a massaging tempo and you can hear him inhaling strongly. “Ya gotta let me do that again sometime, boy.” He murmurs. “God, yer making me inta a queer.”
“Happy to help.” You mutter, still catching your breath.
Merle chuckles, letting both arms encircle you as he fully lets himself relax on top of you. “So ya liked my dick in ya?”
You bury your head into your pillow, avoiding his annoying question.
Merle chuckles. “Lemme sleep here?”
“Whatever.”
“Can I fuck ya in the mornin’?”
“If you want.”
He grins, settling his lips right next to your ear. “Ya gonna help keep little Merle warm all night too?”
You groan as he pushes against you, his soft dick still filling you and linking the both of you together. “Just sleep, jackass.”
He chuckles again. “Whatever you say, queer.”
159 notes · View notes
taintandviolent · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Star of the Show - Jimmy Darling x Reader
warnings: dub-con, drug usage, unprotected sex, orgy, smut (female and male receiving), reader x multiple partners (Amazon Eve and Jimmy Darling). a/n: 3k words! basically, this is uh - y'know. inspired by the orgy scene in Freakshow. this is... shamelessly also me dipping my toes into an Amazon Eve x reader fic because big tall lady make the brain go brrrrrr. that's all I can say about myself here okay? shh. also this was written after a very long bout of writer's block and exhaustion, so i'm rusty and clunky. apologies.
full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! /
Warm sun filtered in through the canvas, warming your exposed limbs. Lids peeling apart, your first visual was red and white stripes, and the second visual was your own body. You’d woken up in nothing but a satin robe that didn’t belong to you. Still muzzy from sleep and whatever else you’d done, you stumbled around to find your dress and thankfully, it had been thoughtfully draped over a nearby bench. You replaced it with the robe, and made your way outside, pushing the flaps of the tent aside.
You weren’t sure how it started, or what was said specifically to cause your lapse in morals. Normally, you’d never do something like that. Honest. In fact, you were always such a good girl that if you ran home and told your friends what you thought you’d done, none of them would believe you. Not you, they’d titter. You can’t even tell a fella that you think he’s cute!
Last night, once the crowds had cleared the field, leaving nothing but crumpled tickets and popcorn bags, you remember wandering into the main tent. They were all there, the freaks. You remembered the way they’d looked at you, all of them smiling dangerously at you as you stood in your pretty mint-green sundress. For whatever reason, you’d been persuaded to take one, maybe two, maybe three, hits of whatever the nice German lady had offered to you - and that’s where it all went wrong. Or perhaps where it all went right. You didn’t remember much else after that.
Shading your eyes from the sun, you peered out into the fairgrounds. They were empty, save for the smaller tents and caravans that encircled the main big-top tent. Dabbing at your forehead with the back of your hand, you trudged through the high grasses. An eerie feeling settled over your shoulders, sending a chill down your spine despite the heat.
What had happened last night? You racked your brain. Tent full of people… German lady… that guy. The handsome guy with the … oh. Jimmy. His name was Jimmy.  
As you rounded the corner, recalling the most you had since you’d stumbled out into the morning, coincidentally, he was there. Across the field, The Lobster Boy bent down to hoist a heavy-looking bag over his shoulder before straightening back up. He caught your gaze with a grin and winked. The boyish charm he presented skilfully extracted a carnal reaction from your body. Suddenly, you remembered a whole lot more.
Last night…
As someone undressed you, carefully, you stared up at the massive inside of the tent. It seemed to go on forever. You had been looking at - no, gazing dreamily at the world through a sheer, white curtain, like the ones your mother hung up during the summer time; the ones that fluttered in the hot breeze and seemed to make the air that filtered through smell sweeter. Everyone was moving slower than they should have, and you leaned your head back on the curve of the chair, inhaling a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.
It felt like there were a dozen hands on you, petting you, skimming the ticklish flesh of your inner thighs and the crooks of your arms. Some of them were cold, some of them were clammy, and some of them felt like they didn’t belong to humans. Everyone was murmuring and someone called you an angel. You threw your head in the direction of the sound, hoping you smiled. Another person caressed your cheek, cupping it tenderly. You hmm’ed in adoration, trying desperately to discern figures. You’d never felt so venerated in your life; everyone was obsessed with you. The star of the show. 
One figure that you could recognise, solely because of the height of them was Eve. Amazon Eve. The tallest woman you’d ever seen, and possibly the most beautiful. She, who you had immediately taken a liking to during the show, was now caressing your bare chest. The delicately explorative way that she handled your breasts, rolling your nipples in her thumb and index finger made you whimper in delight, squirming helplessly on the chair. She pressed a few delicate kisses along your jawline before pulling away to look at you, letting her hands ghost over your exposed flesh. She softly trailed her fingers along your ribs and your sides, fluttered over your hips and neared your centre before sweeping back up along your stomach. Your lids drifted shut, revelling in the sensation.
“Little pretty thing,” she said, very close to your ear. Your brows lifted high on your forehead, pathetically trying to pull your eyelids open again. Eventually, the seal broke and you looked around, focusing gradually.
She was above you with one knee on the chaise, towering like a building. A building that smelled like cherries and flowers. Behind her, blurred dots of string lights, framing her like a picture. She had a pretty face and a warm hand that stroked the side of your cheek. She leaned down, pressing her lips against yours. You melted, wrapping your arms around her soft neck to bring yourself closer, and deeper into her mouth. You’d never really thought of kissing a woman, but the warm, honeyed way that she tasted had you craning your neck to follow her as she straightened up, wanting more.
Eve leaned down, kissing you again. Her large, soft hands dipped in between your legs, and as soon as she felt the slippery warmth that met her fingertips, she looked off to someone. For a fiery moment, her middle finger encircled your clit, sending shivering waves through your body. But too quickly, the moment ended, and her hands gripped your wrists, fingers overlapping as she pulled them from her neck.
“My friend Jimmy is gonna’ take care of you now. Okay, sweetheart?” As she moved off the chair, she brought your hands down to your sides where you flattened them against the textured velvet. You babbled, protesting her leaving, but she shushed you with a single finger, assuring you that she’d be right there. You didn’t want her to – a thought that tantalized you. She was so gentle, but so commanding in her motions. 
At the sound of a belt buckle clanking, your head lolled sleepily to the side, lids heavy. Jimmy? Jiiiiiiimmmy…. you tried to remember who Jimmy was, but your mind was far too busy sounding out the name syllable by syllable, repeating it over and over again like a mantra to even conjure up any mental pictures. Thankfully, standing behind her was an attractive man with thick fingers. Long fingers. But something looked off.
You lifted your head off the chair and blinked heavily, giving him a woozy, half lidded look. His caramel locks were separated with sweat, a few stray strands hanging in front of his brow. You blinked again, clearing your vision. Open pants hung at his hips. Fused fingers wrapped around the base of a thick, red-tipped cock, hand pumping it slowly to keep it hard. Though, as soon as he saw you, naked and sprawled out on one of Elsa’s luxurious chaise lounges, with your legs falling open slightly to expose your cunt, he had little issue with that. 
C’mere, doll face.
He closed in the distance between you two, letting his erection guide him like a compass to what it wanted most. Another man and Jimmy exchanged some words that you couldn’t understand. Frustrated by the lack of attention, you reached out for him sloppily, like a sleepy child. Your hand slapped the air until it found the warm fabric of his cotton undershirt.
“F-feels…. mmmff…”
He chuckled at your avidity, glancing down at you. “Alright, baby, alright…”
You looked dreamily up at him, wanting him to fall on top of you and shower you in kisses. He had the darkest eyes you’d ever seen. The darkest eyes. Like two cups of black coffee, warm and inviting.
Jimmy’s thumb found its way into your mouth, pulling your bottom jaw down to make room for his cock. With peaked brows, you mewled dreamily, wrapping your lips around his single digit and sucking hard. His skin was salty, the sweat of the day settling in the creases of his hands.
“Ohh, god damn - you’re so eager…. Suck on this instead, huh?”
Again, he used this thumb to manipulate your jaw, tugging on it. You opened it further, your tongue lolling out hungrily. The corners of your mouth were pulled upwards; you felt so good, so light and breezy. He was so handsome and you’d do whatever he wanted you to.
You blinked, watching as his cock neared closer. You’d never given a man a blowjob before. For a brief moment, your eyes were wide, pupils dilating in concern, but as soon as the head of Jimmy’s cock was hot against your tongue and warm, salty pearls of pre-cum oozing from the tip, glistening and catching the reflections of the string lights from above, you eased into the action. Your mouth stayed open, as Jimmy was the one guiding his dick inside, knowing full well you didn’t have the strength to do it yourself.
Your lids drifted shut. For a second, he felt bad. You were real out of it, but before he had a chance to dwell on it, a wanton haze consumed him as your pretty lips closed around the blisteringly hot tip, your precious flushed cheeks caving in. Inside, your tongue caressed the slit, lapping up the pre-cum like it was ice cream. You hummed around his cock as he began pumping it in and out. You may have been out of it, but boy were you going at his cock. Your tongue flattened against the thick vein on the underside of his cock, rubbing at it.
He groaned low in his throat, caressing the underside of your jaw, all the while resisting the urge to bring his hand to the back of your head and guide his cock deeper into your mouth. He was weak with arousal. In truth, he was almost embarrassed at how badly he wanted to lose it in your pink, waiting mouth.
“Baby, baby….” Jimmy’s head lolled back on his shoulders, his lids fluttering helplessly as you sucked. You mewled again, the vibrations sending a shockwave through his cock. He bucked his hips in and out of your mouth, focusing hard on the way that your plush, soft lips popped over the head every time he pulled back.
“Take her, Jimmy,” someone said. It was a male’s voice, low and gruff, a slight accent to it.
Though you didn’t know who the voice belonged to, Jimmy hurriedly obeyed it. Whether or not he wanted to stop, the reality was that you had him wound up too tight; he was ready to bust and needed to quickly change positions before the inevitable happened. Sucking in a deep breath, he withdrew his cock from your mouth. Long, sticky strands of saliva and cum strung from your lips, dribbling onto your chin. Moving quickly, Jimmy took hold of his cock and crawled onto the chaise, on top of you, looking fixedly down at your form. You hadn’t quite recovered from the position change, and needed a little help; he let go of his cock, gently pressing his fingers into your cheek, and pulling it to face him. You blinked a few times, before smiling brightly.
“ H-hii …..” You breathed, woozy. “Hi Jimmy…” You were very proud of the fact that his name came out normal. In your current state, it felt like an arduous task. “Hi Jimmy,” you said again, delighted. You laughed girlishly, and Jimmy felt a pulsing heat in his groin. He hadn’t heard a sound as sweet as that in years.
“Hey, baby…” He smiled crookedly at you. Warm and soft like honey. “You want this?”
You knew what he was asking. Your weighted gaze dropped between your bodies. The feverish, scarlet tip of his cock was leaking beads of pre-cum onto your bare tummy, bobbing heavily up and down with each breath he took. You felt your pupils dilate again, hungrily, craving the monster in front of you. You knew what it tasted like, you now wanted to feel it ripping you in two. You gave him an excited nod. The inside of your brain felt like it was jostled around by the action, so you huffed out a steadying breath.
Excited by your consent, Jimmy wasted no time and reached down. The pads of his fingers found your slick entrance, toying with it slightly to spread the slippery, clear fluid around your cunt. He slipped one of his pincers inside, bringing a gasp from your throat. “You like that?” 
You nodded again, much slower this time and reached for his bicep. Once you found it, you gripped it tightly, readying yourself for the oncoming storm. He lined his dick up and brought his eyes back to you.
“Look at me, baby.”
You did. He grinned.
Watching you, he stuffed himself inside, swallowing dryly. His eyes danced over your face, picking up all the subtle, lustful little changes; your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, your brows peaked together in an expression of slight discomfort, your lips parted with a delicate whimper as your slick walls swallowed him whole. This pulled a throaty groan from Jimmy. It was such a display, and for a moment, he wondered if you’d ever been with a man. How obedient and pliable you were underneath him… was that pillowy soft virginity or just the drugs kickin’ in?
Thinking was hard and instinct took over again, wiping all thoughts from his mind, save for the way you felt. You were warm and tight, clenching around his shaft. He jerked his hips up into you, protruding veins massaging your walls. Your attention dropped between you two again, eyes glazed over as his thick cock disappeared inside you, bottoming out each time.
Jimmy, on the other hand, had moved to focus on the way your tits bounced with the power of his thrusts. The visual drove him crazy. Made him hungrier. Craving your taste, Jimmy’s mouth was suddenly on yours, sloppy and hurried. His greedy tongue felt around every inch of your mouth and slipped wetly along your tongue. You did your best to keep up, tasting him all the same, but he was taking the lead. You inhaled a big breath through your nose and moaned into his mouth.
There was a cacophony of pleasure around you, coming from every direction. Wet sounds and hushed moans, peppered with lewd mutterings. Somewhere in your mind, you knew what you were a part of, what you’d stumbled into. Had you been more coherent, it might’ve embarrassed you, but the deep, carnal sounds that Jimmy was making were the only ones that mattered. Suddenly, you furrowed your brows, frowning into the kiss; someone was incessantly petting your hair and grumbling excitedly behind you. You tried to wave them away, but when you lifted your hand above your head, Jimmy reached for you, pinning your hand there.
“Mmmhh…” Breathless, Jimmy pulled away to look at you again, breath rushing out from between kiss-swollen lips. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.”
His hands dropped to your hips, pulling you harshly onto his cock. You winced, but pressed your legs open further, hungry for the sensation. Eve came from behind Jimmy, pausing to run her hand through his caramel coloured hair, gripping it tightly briefly before letting go. Jimmy moaned above you, and before you could protest someone took hold of your hands at the wrists, holding them firmly above your head. With a little whimper, you tried to wrestle around from them, but failed. Eve’s sweet voice came from behind the chaise then, praises drifting down atop of you. Your head rolled upwards to the sound of the woman’s voice, again trying to find it. You couldn’t, and it didn’t seem like Jimmy wanted you to. His conjoined fingers were on your face again, gently pulling you back to face him.
“Eyes on me, baby… right here… that’s it. Atta’ girl.”
You blinked a few times, refocusing on his face. His tanned skin had a blush to it now, covered in sweat. He humped you furiously, his dick slipping in and out of your weeping cunt, rocking your body back and forth. You were close, there was an unmistakable tightening in your abdomen. Jimmy seemed to know this. More than knowing it, he could feel it; the way your tight little cunt quivered, clenching tighter and tighter around him. “C’mon baby, lemme’ hear that voice of yours…”
You opened your mouth, letting the whining moans free. 
“Good girl,” Eve cooed above you. “Such a good girl…” 
 As you continued meeting Jimmy’s thrusts with moans, he picked up his pace, hands snaking around the back of your body to take greedy, punishing fistfuls of your ass. His hands were so big and seemed to envelop you entirely, kneading your soft curves like dough. He came with a low grunt, gripped you hard and pulled himself into you as he climaxed. Jimmy coated your insides like the glaze on funnel cake, and you got to feeling even woozier than before. The feeling was too much, and pushed you over the slick edge. You let out a shrill cry, pulsing around him, fighting against Eve’s grip, who held you fast. There were sounds all around you as you came, excited murmurs and whispers. As your orgasm ebbed and Jimmy softened inside of you, finally, your hands were freed, and they found Jimmy’s florid, sweaty neck, pulling your forehead to his chest.
You remembered the way his chest heaved laboriously above you with each breath, shaky with expelled lust.
You blinked, your jaw hanging slack. He was still standing there, looking at you with that syrupy flirt in his eyes. You were suddenly dizzy with need. The ache between your thighs was no longer inexplicable, and your heart thudded in your chest.
“Hey!” Jimmy called across the field, one hand extended in a friendly wave. “We oughta’ do that again sometime, baby!”
t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @garykingz/ @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @tatesdisasterofalover / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @enchanting-evan / @yesdevineruler / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake / @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @demxnicprxncess / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @babygorewhore / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randominstake / @throwinginmythai / @slvt4jamesmarch / @poltoreveur
239 notes · View notes
l1vchuu · 10 months
Text
resentment. part one
Tumblr media
a new recruit joins the team. you, thinking nothing of it, don't realize how much her presence impacted your own body image, causing you to relapse into an eating disorder you had recovered from a long time ago. how would your roommate, Simon "Ghost" Riley, who had distanced himself from you, react?
!! Warnings: slow burn, mainly focused on fem!reader, eating disorders, angst, strong language, blood, fainting, vomiting, etc.
Today was a normal day at the base, with sergeants walking around, people working in their offices, filing reports, papers, and such. You had just finished with your own reports from the last mission, stretching your arms as you yawn. You were just about to get up when you get a call from Price:
"Everyone in my office in 15 mins, hope you hadn't forgotten."
Oh, yeah. A new recruit was about to join the force, you heard at least. You got up, quickly cleaning out the mess on your desk as you headed towards Captain's office. Knocking on the door, you opened the door and got in, seeing most of the force already there. You smiled at them, waving at them as you took your place next to Soap.
"Alright, fellas. As you possibly heard, a new recruit is going to join us for the next few months. She is an IT specialist, graduated from a high-tech university, and all that."
Captain Price said as he motions to the girl to step forward. She follows as she steps forward, a slight gentle smile glazing her lips.
"This is Sg. Amelia Sanders, and will be working with us until December. Any questions?"
The room is silent, everybody looking at the new recruit. Price nods as he sits at his desk.
"You are dismissed."
As he says that, everyone got up and exited the office. You looked at Amelia for a little longer, finally glad for another girl on the team, before you stood up to follow the others.
It was lunchtime, and you were sitting at the table in the base's cafeteria. You were having a conversation with Soap and Gas, enjoying your meal. Soap continues to talk about his previous mission.
"Then, he came up behind me and tackled me to the ground! But, with my amazing and fast reflexes, I managed to pin him to the ground, which gave me a chance to stab him with my knife. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what you call a mission!"
Soap pats himself on the back, proud of himself. Gas only manages to shoot a glare, trying to humble him.
"Damn, you really will be talking about this for the next year, won't you?"
Soap rolled his eyes as he picked up a spoon to his mouth, eating his meal. You chuckled as you looked around, realizing that you haven't seen your roommate in a while.
"Has anyone seen Ghost?"
You asked, fiddling with your food. Both of them shrugged their shoulders.
"I think he was going to give the newbie a tour of the base, but I'm not sure."
You nodded as you continued on with your meal, focusing on the afternoon ahead of you. Later that week as you were training in the gym, lifting the barbell off the floor. As you were doing your set, you saw in the corner of your eye your roommate. You gently placed the weights down, turning your head in his direction. You wanted to come up to him, but then you saw that he was talking to Amelia. She filled the atmosphere with her laugh, a squeaky, melodic laugh. He probably told her one of his dad jokes, you thought to yourself as you turned your head, pushing all the thoughts off your head.
You turned your head slightly, looking at them both, and you shook your head again. You gently placed the barbell and weights in their own places, and you exited the gym.
I might go on a run instead.
And there you were, lapping around the base, your ponytail swinging in the air. It was 7 pm and the light summer breeze blew through your body as you jogged, drying the built sweat on your forehead. The night birds sang their melody as the leaves on the trees danced to it, rustling through your ears as you run through the forest track. The same track you used in your training a long time ago. Sure, being a mercenary at a young age helped with your development, building a character, maintaining discipline, and all. But sometimes you wondered what it would be like if you weren't working here.
I'm overthinking again.
You picked up your pace, maybe that could help. But this time your mind focused on something else. Amelia.
It's been a week since she joined the team. You only talked to her twice, about paperwork and all the office shit. She was nice to you, and her voice was gentle every time she asked you questions, she nodded her head, paying immense attention to your every word. She was quick with everything, understanding the whole job with just a few explanations. You admired her, even though she was younger. Or so you thought you did.
You were sprinting at this point, your feet barely catching up with your thoughts as you run. After realizing this, you immediately slowed down, stopping in order to catch your breath. Your head was spinning, you were running for a while, hence the sunset painted on the sky. You sat down on the grass, your head in your hands. This was not normal behavior for you.
What is happening?
At the base, there were many female soldiers, lieutenants, and such. You never even paid this close attention to them, but this time, it was different. What was it about this girl that got you thinking like this? Was it her silky, perfectly combed, soft hair? Was it her toned, slightly muscular, yet slim figure? Was it her gentle voice? What was it?
As much as you hated to admit it, this exact moment reminded you of something you thought you left a long, long time ago. Something that consumed your mind to the point of barely losing yourself. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the thoughts, but you couldn't. Instead, you felt chills down your face. You felt your body shake slightly as it came up your throat. You immediately bent to the side as you threw up, your hands on the grass, holding up your balance.
After calming down, you were able to stand up. You stood up, your legs shaking slightly as you wobble around. A few steps later your walk became more stable, helping you get as far as your room.
It was 10 pm and you have already gotten out of the shower and were laying on your bed. You were facing the ceiling, your fingers playing with your freshly washed hair. The sun had set a few hours ago, and the window of the room faced the open road, the warm yellow light from the street lights inviting themself into the room, glazing over your face.
Ghost hasn't gotten back.
This past week you weren’t the only one who had changed. There was something in Simon’s behavior that has changed, as well. He is late every night, even though you were the late one, usually. He stopped sitting next to you at lunch, not showing up at all. You began to worry. 
What did I do? 
You thought that every night. Every, single, second of the night where the only way you could fall asleep is if you cried your guts out.
I mean, you couldn’t help it. He was your closest friend, the first person you got introduced to when you joined. Even though your personalities were so different, that was what drew you guys together, even moving into the same room as roommates. You were the first person to hug him, you were the first person who saw his face. You were special. You were his best friend.
You teared up again, it is a routine now. You curled up into a ball and cried, letting your tears puddle around you as if you were swimming in the middle of the ocean, where every sob was a wave, pulling you further into itself. 
You were deep asleep when Ghost returned, but it didn’t even matter, because the moment he entered he plopped himself on his bed, not even thinking about you. 
He doesn’t know what happened, he is so blind.
You had a nightmare that night. Even though you used to have nightmares rarely since you were tired every night. But tonight is different, again. 
You were on the beach on a winter day, it was empty, and you were sitting on the sand, wearing nothing but a long white dress. The cold wind was blowing in your face, your hair dancing in the air. You were facing the ocean, watching the waves as they battle each other. The smell of dried seaweed and salt filling up your nose and flowing through your body. The freezing water hugged your feet every time a wave went by. You were calm, it was peaceful until you saw a tsunami going toward you. Your eyes widened as you stood up immediately and ran away from it. But there was nowhere to run, the beach is endless. You ran as the big wave was approaching you with every step. The only thing in your sight was infinite sand- no buildings, no land, only sand. But you weren’t fast enough, the big wave swallowed you. You couldn’t run or swim, you were already caught. As your lungs filled with water, your body slowly started to freeze from the cold water. It already consumed you, it is over.
You rose instantly, barely choking on your breath as you looked around. The cold sweat, the swollen eyes, the messy hair, everything seemed way too familiar. Your chest heaved with every breath you took, you were just dreaming, and it was only 5 am. You looked around again. 
“Simon?” 
The tears built up in your eyes again, he wasn’t there. Why wasn’t he there? Where the fuck is he? You stood up and went to the bathroom, maybe washing your eyes might help. 
As you turned on the faucet, you caught a glance of yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t recognize the person looking back at you. You splashed your face a couple of times, bringing yourself back to Earth. You manage to brush your teeth and get ready for another day at base. You didn’t want to work, but you didn't want to call in sick either, you didn’t want people to know that you were not doing okay. You didn’t want to be another burden. 
You put on your uniform, which consisted of your normal tan shirt, cargos, and boots. Placing your hair in a bun, you felt your heartbeat fasten. You obviously didn’t look normal, what are you going to say if someone asks you about your appearance? You thought of an excuse for a  few minutes, and eventually, you have planned to just say that you ‘stayed all night watching movies’ or whatever. That excuse was quite believable since everybody knew how much you love film, especially when you have spent sleepless nights watching movies with Simon.
You sighed as you left your room, giving one last check at the clock, it was 5:45 am. The corridors were empty since it was really early. You thought about giving a knock on Soap’s door, but you immediately pushed that thought away. You continued down the hall leading into your workplace.  
As you sat down in your chair, turned on your computer, and waited for it to load, the sky was getting brighter by every five minutes. At first, it was dark blue, then it became a brighter shade and then the sun began to rise, giving the sky a yellowish-pink color. You looked outside the window, trying to enjoy the moment of peace and silence until a familiar voice rang through the hall. A quiet, melodic voice was heard, followed by gentle and soft footsteps. You felt your heart sink to the floor, fighting the urge to cover your ears with your hands, muting all the sounds. But you couldn’t, you knew you couldn’t do that here. So you just sat there, frozen in your place, hoping her voice would just go away. 
Go away. 
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
thanks for reading! if you enjoyed it and want part 2, don't hesitate to give this a like or a reblog. if you have any suggestions, you are more than welcome to give them, I'm all ears :) I really wanted to write something more deep and angsty, so please don't wonder why there is no smut, there won't be any.
985 notes · View notes
thyme-in-a-bubble · 5 months
Text
the shed
lilac, chapter ten
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: the drama is here, folks. it has arrived. welcome.
summary: “he’s here,” you shuttered, your words barely above a whisper.
warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, kinda mob!ex-boyfriend vibes, angst, crying, violence
word count: 2358
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter
masterlist | join my taglist
Tumblr media
“Hey, Otto,” you smiled warmly as the small town’s sheriff untangled his scarf from around his neck and marched up to where you were wiping a small table down with a damp cloth, “Donna should be here soon if you wanna sit with her during lunch.”
“Oh, I’d love to,” the seasoned man sighed longingly, “but unfortunately the stack of paperwork I left at my desk won’t allow me to hear the latest gossip. She’ll just have to fill me in tomorrow.” 
“So, to go then?” the rag in your grasp finished up its cleanly dance across the smooth woodgrain. 
“Yeah,” he nodded, thinking out loud as he glanced down to stuff as much of the scarf into his left pocket as it could bear, “right now I’m thinking a sandwich, unless, what’s your special today?” 
“Uh, it’s a dahl,” you informed him, carefully folding up the wipe as you stepped closer towards the kitchen door, the sheriff shadowing the short journey, “got lots of spinach and stuff in it.”
“Oh, it’s dahl day? Well, then forget about the sandwich, I’ll have some of that with rice, just rice, and maybe if you could also fill up my thermos with some fresh coffee, that would be great,” he opened up his coat and conjured the nifty decanter from a roomy inner pocket. 
“You got,” you uttered before he handed the flagon off to you and your feet carried you the rest of the way into the kitchen, “hey, dad?” you gently patted his shoulder as you walked past his stance by the stove to get to the coffee maker. 
“Yeah, sweetie?” he halted his stirring and tapped the turmeric-stained spoon on the edge of one of the simmering pots before resting it back down on a little plate to the side. 
Unscrewing the top off of the pastel yellow thermos, you gingerly streamed in some of the requested brew, “can you pack up a portion of dahl with rice for Otto?” 
“Yep, yep,” he fished out a spatula from one of the jugs on the counter that simply overflowed with various utensils, “tell him it’ll be one second.” 
Entering the dining space once more, you handed off the filled thermos to sheriff Nilsen, “here,” who now sat on one of the chairs, “he says it’ll just be a moment.”
“Thanks, kid,” he flashed you a warm smile just before you turned on your heel, “you have a great rest of your day, yeah?”
“You too!” you glanced back over your shoulder with a small wave. 
As you strode towards the lobby and the thick stack of mail you still hadn’t sorted through, a voice began to catch your ear. 
“Fiancé?” old lady Edith’s shrill tone cut through from around the corner, “well, I had absolutely no idea she was engaged,” as you entered the lobby from behind the front desk, your gaze seized to take in the individual the elder was conversing with as your fingers were too busy scooping up the stack of letters, “and to a fella as handsome as you? Well, isn’t she lucky.”
“Well, she just likes to be modest. One of the many qualities I adore about her.” 
Your body instantly froze as the man’s low timbre filled the inn. The shuffling of mail halted as terror shot down your spine.
Slowly raising your panicked eyes, they only seized to grow wider as they glazed over the back-turned individual standing opposite Edith. Shifting his stance, he uncrossed his arms and lowered them to his sides, the crisply up-twisted black button-down sleeves framed in and nearly made it impossible for you not to take in the sight of the recognisable ink that slithered out from under the hem, curled around the honied skin of his forearm and ended right on the back of his ring adorned hand. 
As the letters fell from your grip and casketed over the desk and onto the floor like a fallen jenga tower, the dull commotion managed to catch the pair’s attention as Edith’s hooded eyes trained upon your frozen frame and to your horror, the very reason for you being back here in the first place, turned around as well to spot you. 
“Oh,” a chillingly perfect smile spread across Preston’s lips, “hey, doll,” his tone ever casual as if he’d just talked to you two minutes ago, “there you are.” 
With your heart nearly bursting out of your chest, you didn’t even register that your feet had begun to move before you reached the backdoor out through the sunroom. 
Ripping it open, you sprinted out and over the porch, your speed only increasing as the dewy grass stained your shoes. 
Your eyes were wild, raking across the terrain, franticly attempting to come up with a plan as you went, but swiftly they locked upon where the thick forest began to bloom just beyond the patchy field that stretched between it and the inn’s garden. 
But as you glanced back over your shoulder, the panicked plan of escape withered and died as you spotted your ex marching through the sunroom, his visage clear through the latticed glass of the door. 
Whipping your head around, you spotted the small decrepit tool shed just a few paces to your left. Rushing to the rickety structure, you sucked in a sharp breath as your desperate push to one of the tattered double doors caused the faintest of clangs to reverberate from the rusty dinner bell that decorated the outside as an echo of the past. 
Gingerly shutting the door after you slipped inside, careful as to not evoke any more alarms and ruin your hiding spot, the lack of a lock on the simple doors had completely slipped your memory as your blurry vision stared down at the rudimentary pull handles and nothing else.
Hyperventilating and nearly feeling like you’d faint, you instead pulled over a dust-covered table and pushed it up against the exit, a few screws rattling and rolling off it as it settled in its new place.
Eyes transfixed on the doors, your feet began to back up, not halting till the rough wood of the far side wall stopped you. Reaching into your pocket, you blindly fished out your phone and dialled up the only number you could think of. 
“Hey, I was just about to call you,” Frank’s contrasting tone flowed out from the receiver, “thought I’d maybe swing by when I'm done here in town–…” although his genuine words abruptly ceased as a shuttering cry trembled from your lips, “…Y/n? What’s wrong?”
Your body shook so fiercely that keeping a hold of your phone proved to be a daunting task.  
“F-Frank,” you sobbed. 
“What, what is it?”
“…he’s here. He’s here,” you uttered shakily through your tears, “I walked into the lobby and there he was, I–, fuck…” you squeezed your eyes shut a moment, “Frank, what do I do?”
“Alright, listen to me,” his tone changed in an instant, “did he see you?”
“Y-yes,” you tried your best to keep your voice hushed. 
“Where are you?” 
“I hid in the old shed out back, but, shit, I'm not sure if–” 
Your fear then came to fruition as the doors suddenly rustled, bumping against the makeshift blockade before the attempt was dropped and a low knock instead found your ears. 
“He’s here,” you shuttered, your words barely above a whisper.
“Doll?” Preston’s voice seeped through the rotten wood, “I know that you’re in there,” he tried to shove the doors open once more, the whole world seeming to quake at his attempt. 
Eyes darting around the dim space, you spotted a small broken window to your left. Raising up your elbow, all of the adrenaline that pumped throughout your veins didn’t even let you register the pain as you slammed it against the remaining bits of jagged glass that were stuck to the window, as well as when the remaining short shards stabbed your palms and scratched up the screen of your phone as you desperately began to crawl out. 
“Come on, just open up the door, I don’t have time for any childish games.” 
The sudden sound of the door crashing open and the table scraping across the floor shot straight into your bones. 
Already halfway out, your knee bent up to hoist the remaining half of your shaky form out of the narrow opening, but just as you twisted to do so, a bruising grip grabbed hold of the leg and tugged you back inside, sending you crashing down upon the concrete floor. 
Motes of dust seemed suspended in the air as you coughed on the cold ground. Steadying yourself with your bloodied palms, your hazy vision found your phone by your side, shattered and completely dark. 
Seizing the crown of your locks, he yanked you back up to your feet.
“Now why would you do something like that, huh?” he uttered in such a mundane tone that you’d almost rather have him yell. Dragging you with him towards the doors and still hung agape on the rusty hinges, he grabbed a petite shovel that rested on the messy table and jammed the wooden shaft through the loops of the two handles. Gliding his dominant hand up your frame as he backed you up, the long fingers swiftly enveloped your throat as your back slammed against a wall, “I just wanna have a little conversation with you,” like splintery sandpaper, the rough wood scraped against your spine, and your eyes squeezed shut, “uh uh,” the stinging grip he had on your hair loosened, drifting his knuckles down your cheek in a cruel caress as he demanded, “look at me when I’m talking to you,” your whole frame jerked as you felt him land a harsh slap across your cheek, “show me those pretty eyes,” and your bloodshot glare blinked open, “there,” he wiped the tears that trickled down your face, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” your gaze flickered down to the ominous ink that glazed the appendage clasped around your airway. The head of the snake that decorated the back of his palm nearly looked like it was about to come alive and bite into your jugular vein, “you know, if you wanted to go on a little trip back home, all you had to do was say so, we could have figured something out.” 
Soon, your hands fluttered up to warily drift on either side of his, a shift that caused his jaw to clench. 
“Doll,” he glared down at your lacking jewel, “where’s your ring? Did you misplace it again? If you keep doing that, then I’m just gonna think you don’t like it,” his head tilted to the side in an almost sombre manner, “what, was the diamond not big enough? If you want something more showy, you know all you have to do is ask, money’s just money. Maybe a sapphire? You could look like Princess Diana. Hell, if you want the real thing, I know a guy,” his face slowly inched closer to yours, “I would do anything for you, you know that right?” he proclaimed with an eerie smile upon his lips, “anything, that’s how much I love you. Even if you can’t always wrap your simple little head around the reasoning in the moment,” his free fingers moved to brush some of your dishevelled hair into place, “it’s always because I love you.”
“Preston, please,” your voice was low as you gasped, fretful fingers lightly tapping against his unyielding grip, “you’re hurting me.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he warned softly, rage crackling in his fiery gaze, “you don’t do that,” ignoring your struggling, he went back to wistfully fixing your hair, “you just stand there, like the pretty doll you are and be perfect for me.”
“C-can’t breathe–”
“Oh, you can’t?” his brows furrowed mockingly, “is this better?” he asked as his ring-adorned fingers tightened around your throat and squeezed so taut that no air could reach your lungs, “you are mine,” he pressed his lips to your cheek as your eyes fluttered and your limbs fought against the inevitable fate of shortly passing out, “you will always be fucking mine.”
But just as the world began to slip out from under you, a loud crash found your ears. Forcing your eyes to open, you witnessed as the door got kicked in, the improvised lock shattering into shards from the blow and scattering across the dirty ground.
Glaring over his shoulder, Preston exclaimed, “who the fuck are you?” 
Only looming in the doorway for a fragment of a second, Frank didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer as he rushed to rip Preston off of you.
As you crumbled to the ground, painful coughs escaped your frame. The shed still felt like it spun beneath you as your hazy gaze fluttered up to see Frank pin Preston against the wall. As if you were underwater, their voices seemed miles away as you watched Frank’s callused fist repeatedly collide with the side of your ex’s face. 
This wasn’t how you wanted it to happen. Every thunderous crack prompted a dreadful pit to dig itself within your gut. You weren’t doubting that Preston didn’t deserve this, but you had also come to learn a fragment of the truth of just how few of those punches it took for Frank to have an individual no longer breathing.  
Frantically casting your gaze everywhere and anywhere, past the garden, out in the driveway, the faint sight of the sheriff, lunch in hand, tossing his scarf around his neck and strolling back to his car, found your fuzzy vision.
Stumbling, you crawled out the door and weakly pulled yourself up enough to reach the short rope that hung from the old bell, the looming unconsciousness steadily catching up to you as you strained to do so. 
Ringing the bell once, twice, and on the third time, just as you saw Otto whip his head around in your direction, your vision finally faded to complete darkness as you crumbled to the ground. 
Tumblr media
© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
307 notes · View notes
honeyedmiller · 6 months
Text
Mystery | Joel Miller
Tumblr media
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
warnings: alcohol consumption, teasing, sensual dancing, no outbreak, no use of y/n. 18+, minors do not interact.
word count: 1k+
synopsis: Tommy drags Joel to a club which he detests to, until he sets his sights on you.
if you really wanna catch the vibes for this one shot i highly suggest listening to Black Magic Woman by Santana as this is literally based off of this song
-
“Still don’t understand why the hell you’re draggin’ me to this damn club. ‘M too old to be clubbin’, Tommy.” Joel shakes his head as he rests it against the headrest of the passenger seat of Tommy’s truck.
“It’s for your own good, big brother. Work’s been stressin’ you lots. Y’need to relax.” Tommy lightly chastised his older brother with a small curl of a smile on his lips.
“What I need is an ice cold beer while I’m watchin’ the Cowboys playin’… at home.” Joel grunts, looking out of the passenger window.
Austin’s nightlife was crawling with young men and women down the streets where they could all bar hop, go clubbing, or grab a bite to eat. Everyone looked to be around Tommy’s age, meanwhile, Joel felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb.
He wasn’t even old, albeit he sure as hell felt like it. Probably looked like it too, to all these youngins in their mid-twenties.
Nerves and anxiety twisted in Joel’s gut. It’d been ages since he’d been out, especially to a club. He truly had no idea what the hell Tommy was thinking bringing him along, but he went just so Tommy would stop nagging him.
Brothers.
Younger ones, to be exact.
Tommy lucked out with a parking spot near the club’s entrance. The two brothers got out of the car, Joel immediately noticing people—women—were looking Tommy’s way. Hell, even men too.
Tommy walked very confidently. He was suave, collected, and knew exactly how to get what he wanted when he had his eyes zeroed in on the lady he wanted to talk to for the night.
On the other hand, Joel was a hell of a lot more reserved. Quiet, kept his hands tucked into his jean pockets, and was truly oblivious to every person who looked his way.
The bouncer knew Tommy well enough apparently, because he let him and Joel right into the club.
To Joel’s surprise, the club was actually playing decent music. There were plenty of people on the dance floor having a good time, and the smoke-ridden atmosphere was rather calm despite it being so packed.
“C’mon, let’s get a drink.” Tommy jerked his head toward the bar, and Joel followed suit.
“Tommy man, how the hell are ya?” The bartender shouts, bringing Tommy in for a quick hug.
“I’m good, Sam. Brought my brother Joel with me this time.” Tommy nods toward Joel, and Sam’s eyes shift to Joel. He stuck out his hand, which Joel shook.
“Nice to meet you, Joel.���
“Likewise.”
“What can I get for you fellas?” Sam asks, wiping his hands on the white rag slung over his shoulder.
“I’ll take a Modelo.” Tommy says.
“I’ll take whatever whiskey you got. Neat.”
Sam nods and pours up both of their drinks, setting them on the counter. Tommy hands over his card to Sam and tells him to keep a tab open.
“So what exactly do you plan on me doin’ here, Tommy?” Joel looks at his brother, taking a sip of his whiskey. It burned so good, making him grimace a bit.
“I already said it, big brother. Just relax. Dance. Have fun. Don’t fuckin’ think about shit for one night, yeah?” Tommy grabs Joel’s shoulder and squeezes it. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna head on out to the dance floor to find myself a nice lady to dance with.”
And just like that, Joel is left at the bar all alone. He doesn’t mind it too much. It gives him the opportunity to scope out the place and see what all the patrons are up to. He keeps sipping his whiskey slowly, eyes scanning the dance floor when he immediately stops.
He spots who’s got to be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in his life, dancing the night away with her girlfriends.
Something about the way she moved was so enthralling, so captivating.
That woman happened to be you.
Joel couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Just like him, you tagged along with your group of friends to de-stress from the hell of a week you’ve had. Clubbing was your friends’ solution to relaxing. It took you a bit of coaxing, but now that you’re out and dancing, you’re glad you came with them.
“I’m gonna go get a drink.” You wrapped your hands around one of your friend’s arms, notifying them. They nod at you and ask if you want them to come with, to which you declined.
As you made your way across the dance floor, you spotted a man sitting at the bar that was already just blatantly staring at you. You found it a bit odd, but you had to admit, he was extremely handsome.
Rugged features and soft, dark brown eyes. What a mix.
You made it up to the bar and knocked on it twice, as if Sam could easily hear it. Sam saw you anyway and gave you a big smile.
“What’ll it be, sweets?” Sam asked.
You leaned over the bar right next to Joel, wearing a strapless corset top, skinny jeans that showed off your curves in every single right place, and some strap black heels that made your legs look like they went on for miles.
“Whiskey, neat please.” Your voice was sweet, Joel thought. Buttery. Thick and nearly addicting, and you’d only said three goddamn words.
Sam handed you your drink, and you grinned at him. “Thanks Sam!” You took your drink and sat down two barstools away from Joel.
Joel wanted to look at you some more, but he knew he’d be clocked as a total creep if he did that. He just wanted to admire you. Admire your features, the way your hands curled around the glass as you brought the glass up to your mouth, the way your red lipstick painted said glass once you took a sip.
You were a sight to behold, and Joel was fucking bewitched.
The man didn’t believe in love at first sight, but god, he might just believe in it now.
You looked over at Joel who was trying hard not to look at you as he swirled what was left in his glass. He glanced up at you when he felt your stare on him. Your lips were adorned with a soft smile, and he easily returned one.
You slipped out of your seat and into the one next to Joel, crossing a leg over the other as you faced him.
“Noticed you were staring.” You chuckle, and petrification crosses his features. His neck and ears burn bright red, and he looked down at his glass once more.
“‘M sorry. Just couldn’t help it. You’re beautiful.” He said shyly, and he was kicking himself for being so timid.
He just quite literally hadn’t done this in so long. He forgot how to have a normal conversation with someone he found so attractive. How to flirt. How to do anything when it came to women.
It’s like his brain completely short circuited, but you found it charming in a way. At least he wasn’t some douchebag trying to hit on you just to get in your pants.
“It’s okay. Thank you,” You chuckle, putting a hand on his knee. He froze at your touch, feeling like his body was on fire. No one’s ever had this type of effect on him. “What’s your name?”
He clears his throat and reminds himself to stop acting like a total fucking weirdo. To breathe. A gorgeous woman was talking to him. He couldn’t blow it.
“Name’s Joel.” He raised his glass to you, and you grin. You clink your glass with his, shoot the rest of the whiskey down and hop off the barstool. Joel’s mood faltered for a second, thinking that you were leaving him at the bar.
“Nice to meet you, Joel. Come dance with me.” Your doe eyes and pretty pout of the lips was something Joel couldn’t deny, no matter how much he wasn’t a fan of dancing. He downed the rest of his whiskey as well, leaving the glass on the sticky maplewood bar top before taking your hand that you had held out to him.
You led him to the dance floor, facing him as the current song was ending, and Black Magic Woman by Santana started to play through the speakers.
“I love this song.” You say into Joel’s ear, and he grins and you and nods in agreement. His hands find home on your waist and yours on the back of his neck, and the both of you start to move.
You were impressed by how great of a lead Joel was. The man didn’t like dancing much, but he was a hell of a dancer.
You swayed your hips to the beat, Joel easily keeping up as his grip on your waist tightened in the slightest. You stared into his dark brown eyes, a feeling of neediness surging over the both of you.
All you saw was him in that very moment. You both moved fluidly across the dance floor, unaware of all of the wandering eyes coming to rest their gaze on you both.
Once the guitar riff started to play, Joel spun you around so your back was against his front.
Got a black magic woman,
Got a black magic woman,
I’ve got a black magic woman
Got me so blind I can’t see
That she’s a black magic woman
She’s tryin’ to make a devil out of me
You leaned your head back onto Joel’s shoulder and reached your arm up, grabbing the back of his neck as your other hand grabbed the other one of his that rested on your hip.
He was feeling on the bolder side, so he slotted his face into the crook of your neck, resting his lips on your warm flesh. He leaves a ghost of a kiss in one spot before moving his lips up to your ear.
“So fuckin’ beautiful.” Is all he says before you look up at him with a saccharine smile, spinning out from him.
Don’t turn your back on me baby,
Don’t turn your back on me baby,
Yes don’t turn your back on me, baby,
Stop messin’ ‘round with your tricks
Don’t turn your back on me, baby,
You just might pick up my magic sticks
Joel’s grip on your hands was solid as he spun you around twice, catching you by your hips to pull you flush against his body. At this point you two were grinding yourselves into each other while still managing to maneuver around the dance floor, footing in sync.
It began to feel extremely hot in the club as your body moved with his, aware of him and only him. His scent, his eyes on you, the way your body seemed to fit perfectly with his.
You’d only just met the man a mere ten minutes ago, and yet, you found yourself so drawn to him. So attracted to him. He seemed to feel the same, the way he was looking at you like you were the only other person in the room.
Got your spell on me baby,
You got your spell on me, baby,
Yes, you got your spell on me, baby,
Turning my heart into stone
I need you so bad magic woman
I can’t leave you alone
As the song came to an end, Joel spun you around twice more before dipping you down, clutching onto your body so tightly as reassurance to you that he’s got you.
His face was only a mere few inches away from yours. Both of you were entranced, staring into each other’s eyes as your ragged breaths were slowly becoming more normal.
Both of you came back to reality when you heard people cheering for the both of you, looking around at your surroundings to realize that there’s been a space in the dance floor people left just for the two of you.
Joel stood you upright, hands still not leaving your hips.
You smirked up at the man, leaning up to leave a kiss on his pulsating neck, which left a bright, puckered shape lipstick stain in its wake.
“Thanks for dancing with me, Joel.” Your hands pat his chest softly twice before going to walk away from him, but he abruptly stops you by gently tugging on your wrist.
“Wait, darlin’, what’s your name?” He asks, throat going dry as you give him a sultry stare.
Your red lips form into a smirk as you wink at him, turning to walk away into the once more crowded dance floor, leaving him in the middle of the sea of patrons.
He was too stunned to even follow after you. Too stunned to move, think, anything, until Tommy pulled him out of his trance when he gripped his brother’s shoulder.
“Who the hell was that?” Tommy asks, looking just as bewildered as Joel.
“I… have no idea.” He breathed, putting his hand over where you kissed him on the neck.
That night, at the club, after him and Tommy went home, and as he laid himself to sleep, he was praying to whatever god of fates was out there that he was able to find his mystery woman once more.
Tumblr media
tags: @ilovepedro ; @party-hearses ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @nostalxgic ; @cool-iguana
260 notes · View notes
daydreamingyuta · 1 month
Note
could I request like female idol x jaehyun idol going to a bruno mars concert in Korea together
And the song finesse comes on and you know the part that goes fellas grab ur lady if ur lady fine😭 and he does that😝
and somehow it gets dispatch finds out
Finesse | Jaehyun
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: fluff, drabble, dispatch exposing your relationship with Jaehyun after getting caught attending a Bruno Mars concert together. wc: 809 a/n: Hi! Thank you for requesting! sorry it took so long but I had sm fun writing this because it reminded me how good Bruno Mars songs are! (Also in one part I mention that y/n is in aespa, I hope that's ok!) <3
“You make me feeell like I’ve been locked out of heaaaven for too longgg.” You and Jaehyun sing in unison, not caring a single bit if you were in key or not. 
When Jaehyun had asked you if you wanted to go to the Bruno Mars concert with him, you couldn’t say ‘yes’ fast enough. Countless dates with Jaehyun have ended in the car singing his songs at the top of your lungs with the windows down, the wind not even close to drowning out your passionate singing. 
You had been a little nervous about going since your relationship with Jaehyun was not public yet, but he assured you that you didn’t have to worry. You both wore hats that covered your faces pretty well and your seats were out of view from most people in the audience, so you really thought you didn’t have to worry. 
As “Locked out of Heaven” ended, Bruno Mars switched to a slower song “It Will Rain.” Lights lit up all around the arena from the flashlights on everyones phone. You both joined it, swaying your phones along with the crowd and singing, “There’ll be no sunshine if I lose you baby” 
At the very end of the song, Bruno Mars stepped away from the mic and let the crowd sing the “oohh” part, and it was magical. You and Jaehyun laughing at each other when you saw that you both got goosebumps from the beautiful moment. 
Just when you thought the concert couldn’t get any better, you hear the beginning notes of Finesse, one of your all time favorite songs. Using a half empty water bottle as a microphone, you and Jaehyun sing and dance along. 
You sing, “Fellas grab your lady if your lady fine.” while Jaehyun grabs your waist and pulls you in close to him, swaying to the music. Your cheeks hurt by the end of the song from smiling so much, you truly didn’t have a single care in the world and it was easily one of the best concerts you’ve been to. 
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
The rest of the night you were on that concert ‘high’ that you always get after a fantastic concert. You didn’t feel a single negative emotion, until the very next day when you were woken up by Jaehyun’s manager calling him. This wasn’t too uncommon of an occurrence, so you closed your eyes again and tried to go back to sleep until Jaehyun shot up in bed right next to you. 
He involuntarily grabbed your arm as he listened to his manager. They talked for a while and when Jaehyun hung up, his face was pale white. Still, he smiled at you and stroked your hair like he always did when you woke up next to him. 
“Is everything alright?” You ask, sitting upright alongside him. 
He nodded his head, but when his phone dinged with a text from his manager, he let you see for yourself what was happening. You grab Jaehyun’s phone and click the link to a Dispatch article. 
The bolded title read: “NCT’s Jaehyun and aespa’s Y/n go Home Together after Attending a Bruno Mars Concert.”
The first photo attached was a blurry picture of you two getting in the same car. “You can really tell that’s us.” You say, trying to think positively. 
Jaehyun hums in response as he watches you scroll some more. If you thought there would be room to deny the allegations, you were proved very wrong when multiple videos started playing of you and Jaehyun dancing together, specifically during the song Finesse. 
There was more to the article but you set his phone down in your lap. A million emotions were flying through your mind, but after a couple of moments you found yourself laughing. Jaehyun laughs along with you too, because of course this would be how your relationship leaked. 
You had both spent so long being so secretive about everything you did together and now that it was finally out, you couldn't help but feel relieved. 
“Am I wrong for being kinda happy about this?” Jaehyun asks you. 
“Honestly I think I feel that same way.”
Jaehyun scoots closer and wraps his arms around you. “I hate hiding you from everyone.” He whispers, kissing you on the cheek. 
“Me too” you say, leaning your head against the bed frame and looking at him. He kisses you and you both melt into each other, feeling like a million years worth of stress just flew away. 
Obviously you were still going to have to deal with the consequences of this coming out, but you had this weird feeling that everything was going to turn out alright. You and Jaehyun will have each other no matter what, and you knew that he wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of what you two have. 
84 notes · View notes