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#i love that the probable answer is that i have several things at once :)
dykefaggotry · 2 days
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[image id: an ask from @harbingerofskulls that reads: "im gonna b real i only knew the jerking off i would love to hear you elaborate more if you want to go on the whole situation" /end id]
answering here so i can save as a draft without risking the ask disappearing bc tumblr's been doing that lately but
oh god </3 for everyone else- it's talking about this post. sooo i'm gonna go through each one bc i've been feeling insane for several weeks. i'll do my best to cite my sources lmao
i don't know (johnny johnny)
this is referring to this unreleased VERY early beatles track from 1960. the audio quality is absolute shit & as such unfortunately people love to put words to it that don't make much sense in either direction (i.e a lot of mclennon fans want to hear "you're in love with me" and a lot of people that hate mclennon will just make up the weirdest lyrics that make 0 sense so it's Not Gay). some of the lyrics that ARE clear make it obvious this song is about the two of them running away together- at one point i'm fairly certain paul says "how am i gonna tell my father that we're leaving town?" probably referring to them leaving to hamburg. which would be fine but some of the other lyrics areeeee..... very..... Hm. like multiple times paul refers to john as "my boy" and there's bits of them talking about not knowing what to tell their friends & wanting to just run off together alone. if i were the other members of the band having to record this i would have killed them with hammers <3 also the entire end is just paul going "oh johnny" like 1 million times. okay. sure. also since the lyrics ARE so garbled i mean i guess people could be right about it saying "how am i gonna tell my father you're in love with me" but i just don't hear it. still, a very gay song about running off together and getting away from everything and everyone, complete with moaning the other's name </3
2. paris
this one is a huge part of McLennon Fandom Lore lmao but for good reason. not citing sources on all this bc it's one of those that's just Fact & can be found in like any beatles biography or thebeatlesbible.com (my savior) but. for john's 21st birthday, he got 100 pounds from a rich relative. instead of taking his girlfriend or any of his other friends, he decided to use the money to take paul to spain. but they stopped in paris on the way and just decided to stay there. which i mean like. taking your best friend over your girlfriend to the city of love is a little weird but it's not THAT weird. it's everything else that makes people want to chew glass about it. including some of the other things on this list. like this audio of john just goofing around singing about paris and paul, with such hits as "my cheri, my pau pau my pau paul." which is :| okay best friend. and paul has this picture hung up in his house that he took of john sleeping in paris. okay. sure. why not. (although ig there's some doubt about if the photo is from paris? either way it's a picture paul took and has framed in his house which is incriminating enough my man). also NOT in the original post but may pang, a woman john had a brief affair with in the 70s, wrote a book called loving john. in it, there's this quote:
After a late lunch, Linda launched into a long paean to the joys of living in England. When she was finished, she turned to John and said, “Don’t you miss England?”
“Frankly,” John replied, “I miss Paris.”
okay! also in an interview once he said:
The thing was all the kissing and the holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic, just to be there and see them, even though I was twenty-one and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing; and they weren’t mauling at each other, they were just kissing.
(interview with david scheff for playboy in september 1980)
3. if i fell
this one i already made an insane post on that started my spiral into posting about the beatles publicly </3 but, essentially, the song "if i fell" by john is..... well it's most likely about paul. he said it wasn't about his wife but that it was auto-biographical and he never really had any public affairs that weren't flings, certainly not a lover. but most damning is he wrote the complete lyrics for the first time on a valentine's day card addressed "to paul with love" with some hearts and arrows pointing to where the lyrics were written. absolutely insane. made me insane.
4. oh! darling
rawest paul song of all time if i do say so myself lmao. but it's just.... Highly Suspicious, that's what it is. a Lot of beatles fans/historians will admit this song is most likely about john but they won't admit that it's fucking romantic if it is. like.
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like that is so blatantly romantic idk what to say other than that. also, in the official recording on abbey road, there's Several points where paul says "darling" that sound more like he's saying "johnny" which is what he called him. people brush it off by saying it's his accent, but there's a very clear difference between when he's saying "darling" and when he's saying "johnny". i mean the Lore behind this is that it was written right when things were splitting up between them (& the rest of the band) so it makes sense and it's why most people are willing to accept it's about john. it's just insane to me that they'll accept it's about john without considering the implications of that.
5. the real life demo
this one made me want to light myself on fire i won't lie to you. but here it is! john had a song called "real love" and this is a very early demo of it. but instead of the lyrics that came to actually be in the song (which are thought to be about yoko but let's not get into the fact that it was on a tape labeled "for paul" but whatever), it includes john fucking crying as he sings saying:
"was i just dreaming or was it only yesterday? i used to hold you in my arms. and now a baby and another on the way... la la la la farm..."
which can quite literally be about no one else but paul, as this demo was recorded when he'd just had two children with his wife linda and linda was pregnant with their third child. they'd moved to a farm in scotland. hearing this audio clip did genuinely make me want to lie down in the dirt for a week. also "i used to hold you in my arms" just... yeah. god. when people think it was unrequited idk what to say, really.
6. If Paul Were A Woman-
shoving these two together but. in april of 85, paul said in an interview about john and yoko's relationship:
"I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, 'Who’s this?' You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and…"
okay bestie <3 and what would make your relationship different if you were a woman? interesting! and yoko had something similar to say. in this audio, she says:
"I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat – because there’s something definitely very strong between John and Paul."
just reminds me of being a kid and telling my best friends "if i were a boy i'd date you" lol. incredible. does anyone here know about bisexuality.
7. stuart!
not much to say here except that john had a best friend, stu sutcliffe, who died young & before that had been the bassist in the band. paul fucking hated him sooo much oh he SEETHED. a lot has been written on that relationship but it was.... very interesting to say the least. it could have just been about the band, or just jealousy over john's friendship, but take that with a lot of john biographers suspecting john had feelings/even a sexual relationship with stuart and it paints a very Interesting picture to say the least
8. john's bisexuality
here's a compilation of quotes about it, but john was more than likely bisexual. which has nothing to do w paul, really, but more to do against people that like to claim they were both Heterosexual Men. although an interesting quote in this compilation is him saying he's "had paul" lmfao
9. paul's post-beatles work
there's just.... there is so so so much here i don't even know where to begin. @ringompreg has a good compilation of paul songs here. a lot of them do take a bit of Lore but like..... it comes down to the fact that both him and john have/had admitted many times to using their lyrics during The Breakup Years to talk to/reference each other and sooooo many of these lyrics are insanely blatant. the two i mentioned were tug of war and let me roll it, both of which are acknowledged to be about john by most people WITH NO ONE BOTHERING TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE IMPLICATIONS OF THAT which..... tug of war has this:
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we could stand on top of the mountain with our flag unfurled? dancing to a beat played on a different drum? this is what gaylors think gaylor conspiracy is but paul mccartney is really out here saying this shit.
and let me roll it is so fucking blatantly romantic but every reviewer is like haha! what a cool song that's "making fun" of john and clearly in his style! like are straight people stupid genuinely. anyway:
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bonus to that but about JOHN'S solo work :)))))) he wrote a song called "watching the wheels" and when you consider he very much responded to MANY of paul's solo stuff it's :)
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which as a response to let me roll it would just be... so devestating but it may be a stretch idk if i'm onto anything there it's just worth Mentioning
and there's a lot of others, a lot of them in that post up there. like far too many where paul mentions falling in love with a friend like Alright.
10. paul's first lsd trip with john/"i know" "i know"
this one is less blatantly romantic but it is just insane. here's an article. and a quote from george martin about it. the first time paul tripped on acid w john was bc john accidentally took some and he took him home & then took acid w him bc he didn't want john to be alone on the trip :( but, notably:
"And we looked into each other’s eyes, the eye contact thing we used to do, which is fairly mind-boggling. You dissolve into each other. But that’s what we did, round about that time, that’s what we did a lot," the singer recalled, "And it was amazing. You’re looking into each other’s eyes and you would want to look away, but you wouldn’t, and you could see yourself in the other person. It was a very freaky experience and I was totally blown away."
he also apparently saw john as the, and i quote, "emperor of eternity" during this trip??????? okay
SOMEWHERE i can't find it rn and i'm getting lazy but somewhere they (i think paul?) talk about the fact that they used to just stare into each other's eyes and then say "i know" "i know" which. considering john's song "i know (i know)" makes me crazy
11. in my life/i will
these are really just some devastating songs with lyrics that make you really raise your eyebrows. for in my life, written by john, it's just an incredibly romantic & sweet song that is again, not about his wife. given that the lennon estate is still out here posting pictures of paul to those lyrics i have to say it's a liiiiittle suspicious. and i will is...... it's one that paul insists is not about his girlfriend at the time, jane asher. and when you look at the lyrics vs how him and john met.... like. the song goes:
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and the story of how they met was that paul saw john repeatedly before they ever met, when he didn't know who john was other than that he thought he looked cool & admired his sideburns (lmfao). and when they did finally meet, it was when john was singing at a garden fete (party) and paul was in the crowd just Mesmerized. so. well. you can see.... you can see how fitting that is. makes me crazy makes me want to chew glass actually
12. "we were each other's intimates" and other insane quotes
"we were each other's intimates" is a paul quote about john which is just insane but that's not even the tip of the iceberg. here's a ton of quote compilations.
13. "literally everything else"/honorable mentions
some honorable mentions go out to: john going on stage w elton john & playing i saw her standing there and introducing it as "a song by an estranged fiance of mine" okay! the "just like starting over" demos. okay! which isn't even to MENTION the fact that paul locked himself away in the studio listening to "just like starting over" on repeat for DAYS after john died like???? john saying repeatedly that he considered paul & yoko to be his two major partners in life including in an interview the literal day he died. a whole ass rpf movie where they kiss & talk like they're ex-lovers and dance in central park (two of us) made by the same dude that made the let it be movie like. he knew them personally? he worked with them closely? and the only thing paul had to say about it was just essentially that it was what he wished would've happened like???????? i can't find a super reliable source for this so take it w a grain of salt, but apparently paul referred to mclennon fanfiction as "beautiful stories" and doesn't mind them being written. paul also had a cat that had kittens & he named two of the kittens pyramus and thisbe after fictional lovers he and john played and he gave pyramus (the character paul played) to john :|
and literally so much else like all of this and it's not even all of it. it's not even close to all of it. i didn't even get to talk about the way in "get back" the documentary, paul started talking about john leaving the band for yoko and how john would choose her over them and then he got teary eyed, started choke laughing, and then started singing "build me up buttercup" before looking at the cameras and stopping. what the FUCK was that about! IT'S NOT EVEN GETTING INTO THE SONG "TWO OF US" THAT'S SO OBVIOUSLY ABOUT JOHN THAT IT HURTS. it's. it's not even scratching the surface. they were just genuinely insane about each other.
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suguann · 2 months
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I HOPE YOU STAY—GOJO SATORU
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✎. he’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. it just sort of slipped out. | wc. 2.8k+
tags. fem!reader, grinding, unprotected sex, oral sex, some mutual pining (it's implied he doesn't know how to talk to reader), there is not a world where gojo isn't rich, fwb to lovers, jealousy, gagging on how very much in love gojo is with reader and she doesn't see it, praise kink, pet names [18+ only]
masterlist
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You’re not sure how it all started.
(As how all arrangements like these seem to start.) 
You remember calling Gojo on a night out with your coworkers—one too many cheap vodka cranberries in your system clouding your judgment—just as he left the office for the day, asking if he could pick you up from a shady nightclub downtown. 
(You’d hardly been acquaintances, and there was a long period of time where you’re sure he only tolerated you for Shoko’s sake since she’s the one who dragged you into their group of friends. You’re always the last one he acknowledges in the room, and he seems to clam up when you’re alone together.
You refused to let it get to you. Especially when you only see him a handful of times every other month or so, although less now that you’re around, and you pretend it doesn’t eat at you.)
It’s still a mystery why you called him out of everyone you know—you had to scroll through an endless amount of contacts just to find a message you sent him months ago that he left on read with the express purpose of annoying you—and even more surprising that he answered.
You didn’t know him as well as Shoko, but maybe a secret hidden part of you knew he’d help if you were in a pinch.
“Hello?” 
(He might be the most infuriating human you know, but he has a voice like rich bourbon. 
He’s also stupidly attractive. Beautiful, even, with his straight nose, soft-looking mouth, and thick hair that adorably curls around his ears. However, you’d never say that to his face, for his head would get too big.)
“Do you think you could give me a ride?” It was almost a miracle that your words didn’t slur.
You half expected him to hang up, but then he asked for the address, and several minutes later, he pulled up to the curb in his shiny sports car that probably cost more than everything you own combined and watched you stumble into the soft-leather passenger seat. 
It should be embarrassing how long it took you to buckle your seatbelt, but then you finally got a good look at him and took note of his expensive-looking suit: his tie slightly undone, shiny watch and cuff links glinting under the passing street lights, how his hair looked like he ran one of his bear paws for hands through it several times. 
You think it was the first time you realized he was as tall as he was wide.
The quintessential businessman in a three-piece suit. You understand the appeal now. 
(That je ne sais quoi that makes you want something out of reach. Why your friends from college ask if he’s single when all you see is a man who never takes anything seriously.)
He’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. It just sort of slipped out.
Gojo gave you a look that would have made you giggle if you weren’t serious. “What?”
“I want a kiss,” you told him again.
It was the little once-over he gave you afterward, the way he missed the exit to your street and took the one that led to his, how he kissed you until your knees were wobbly and weak, and you could barely walk to his door in your heels as he pressed small ones around your mouth while his fingers sunk into your hair.
(That. That—)
You came against his thigh—staining his Burberry suit while he whispered dirty things into your ear—right there in the hallway where anybody could see if he didn’t have the whole floor to himself.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned into your mouth once he had you in his room, his hands trailing up and down your sides until he found the zipper for your dress and tugged. "I can't believe this is really happening."
(Later, you spend a lot of time analyzing what he meant.)
You urged him toward the bed when he had the black slip of fabric pooling at your feet, dropping down to your knees in front of him, and together, you scrabbled at his pants, shoving them around his hips. You’ll never forget how hot and heavy he was in your hand that first time, how your fingers barely touched and looked so small in comparison.
There was a thick vein along the underside of his cock, and you trailed it with your tongue, going up and up until you took the slightly purpling head into your open mouth.
You kept taking more of him until you couldn’t go any further without gagging, which wasn’t far because he was big—possibly the biggest dick you’ve ever seen outside of porn—and it made you a little dizzy how quickly it robbed you of air. 
“Holy shit.” He stroked your hair so softly, so sweetly, groaned things that made you preen and nuzzle into his touch. “You’re so good at this. You gonna let me cum down that throat?”
That made your belly flip—the fact that Gojo Satoru, of all people, called you good—a stone creating a current of new possibilities.
You hummed a muffled “Uh huh” and squeaked when he held your head down—the coarse hair at his pubic bone brushing against your nose—cumming down your throat in hot, heavy spurts, and you’re surprised you swallowed it all because it was a lot.
He fell back against the mattress, freeing you of his grip, arms spread wide and panting as he lay there with his eyes closed.
“Was it good?” you asked, licking away the small amount of cum that escaped the corner of your mouth.
That got him to pop his head up to look at you, a hint of something too soft on his face than you were used to from him. “Come here,” and he let you crawl into his lap.
A sigh escaped his lips as his hands hovered close to the side of your waist before letting them fall back against the mattress. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he mumbled after kissing your forehead.
(That’s how you think it started.)
~~~~~
Everything’s fine.
Perfectly fine before Gojo sits by you, casually planting himself between you and the newest member of your group of friends, Nanami. You roll your eyes at how childish he’s being, refusing to react to his blatant jealousy.
Then he inconspicuously rests his hand on your knee. You jump at first, and the few people sitting at the table with you glance at you curiously, including Gojo, who gives you a mischievous little smirk that can only mean trouble. 
Again, you roll your eyes and choose to ignore whatever is going on in that lizard brain of his.
That doesn’t last long because he’s leaning across you to grab a handful of pretzels, only to lean in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he sinks back into his seat.
“You look so fucking good in this dress right now.” His voice already sounds hoarse, stretched thin—raw with want—and you inconspicuously rub your thighs together under the table. “Are you wearing what I bought you underneath? You’d show me, yeah?”
(Because he buys you things now—perfectly normal for someone you’re sleeping with who’s not your boyfriend, but maybe your friend—and sometimes you playfully call him Daddy when he has your wrists tied above your head with one of his silky ties.
And who cares if a few of your things and a toothbrush have found their way into his place? He lives closer to your job. Nobody can blame you for choosing convenience over a forty-minute ride through the subway.
Normal.)
Distantly, you’re aware that you aren’t alone, and there are several ears within earshot distance, but that doesn’t stop the little gasp that escapes past your lips. 
“Satoru, knock it off.” You glance around the table to make sure no one is paying attention, your tensed shoulders relaxing a little when you find everyone too preoccupied with their own conversations.
Gojo already has acknowledged this, too. 
“I bet you still taste just as sweet as you did this morning. You have no idea how much I want you. It’s making me hard just thinking about it.” At that, you peek down at his lap to find the prominent bulge pressing against his khaki pants. 
“Oh?” voice soft when you finally tear your eyes away from his crotch to meet his heated gaze again.
“Mhm.” 
Oh. 
You can tell that he sees your walls cracking, that it would only take a few sweet words before you finally caved: “You’d let me have another taste, wouldn’t you?”
Your breath hitches because, yes, you would. 
That’s how you find yourself with your thighs parted and one of your legs draped over his.
You bite your lip, trying to hold back the moan threatening to escape while the rough pad of his middle finger presses small circles over the top of your panties. His fingers tease, exploring the slick seam of you and retreating when you start arching your hips up into his touch.
It feels like you can’t breathe—or perhaps you’re too fearful to find out what other noises you’d make if you did—practically choking on the torturous (because that’s what this is) pleasure you’re receiving, and you’re ready to beg. You really are. However, you aren’t prepared to face the mortifying consequences if you happen to open your mouth.
Something that sounds a lot like, please, just waiting on the tip of your tongue.
It feels like every pair of eyes at that small table are on you, but they’re none the wiser to what is currently happening beneath the party-themed tablecloth, still laughing and mingling around the yard as they celebrate Geto’s birthday. 
It’s not as if it’s all that obvious, either. 
Gojo is turned away from you, currently in the middle of a discussion with the birthday boy himself. You have no clue what they were talking about because you’d stopped paying attention a while ago—not that you’d be able to listen if you wanted to with Gojo’s fingers turning every spun cotton candy thought back into melted sugar. 
He traces lightly over the covered seam of your lips before finally slipping under the silky material—his skilled fingers working slippery circles at the apex of your thighs—and the subtle relief forces you to swallow another moan. 
“Satoru,” you warn under your breath, grabbing his wrist to stop his movements. But the feel of him patting your sticky, sensitive clit with three fingers cuts off all of your protests, forcing you to sit there and let him play with you.
Heat crawls up your neck as he explores your slick folds, the loud music, and chatter, thankfully hiding the wet sounds produced between your legs. 
He does offer some mercy when he notices the slight quiver in your thighs, how they jump and jump until he stops teasing to press to fingers inside you and grind the heel of his palm into your clit. Your hips start rocking forward against his hand slightly, and you pray nobody notices because the heat spreading through your belly is almost too consuming to stop now, making you dizzy with it. 
Your abs hurt from how hard they clench, and your legs shake, culminating in a slow drop just before you resurface. Gojo can probably feel it—attuned to your body after all these months—and starts moving in a steady rhythm, and—
The breath you’re about to take gets caught in your throat, fingers gripping Gojo’s wrist and the ledge of the table as you tip over the edge. Your legs tremble while you convulse onto his hand, and you have to lean into him to keep from falling out of your chair. 
His fingers bring you back down, slowly, rubbing soothingly against your inner thigh as the fog gradually dissipates from your brain. And what you’d give to hear him call you his good girl at that moment—
“Hey, are you okay?” Shoko asks you from across the table. “You don’t look so good.”
All eyes turn towards you, including the smug little gleam in Gojo’s. 
“Yeah,” you squeak before standing up hastily. You pull Gojo up with you, not caring that it’s the same hand covered in your sticky-wet slick. “I just remembered that I need Sa—Gojo’s help with something.”
Only a few are dumb enough to believe that lie, and you avoid the smirk Shoko gives you as she watches you practically drag Gojo toward the house.
(Because, of course, she knows.
And perhaps she’s not the only one.)
~~~~~
The tipping point in your relationship—the one that turns it from a maybe into a definite something, and not just two people who have been having sex and somewhat living together for six months—happens on a night Gojo comes home late from work. 
(Exactly five minutes to eleven.)
You’re not usually the jealous type, but you’ll admit that dating someone like Gojo—rich, attractive, owns more Tom Ford suits than you have jeans, and just important enough that he has an assistant who runs said suits to the dry cleaners—can stir up some insecurities.
A more reasonable person would lay out the facts like a deck of cards: you know he’s someone’s boss’s boss, so he likely had to stay behind to fix someone else’s mess, but the proverbial chip onto the poker table comes with his new assistant. 
Hinata.
A girl who’s fresh out of college and around him more hours of the day than you see him during the week, and from the few times you stopped by his office, you can tell she has a thing for him—her lack of subtlety could compete with Gojo’s nonexistent observation skills.
Much later, after you’ve slept on the softest sheets you’ve ever laid on, you’ll admit you overreacted. How you shouldn’t have thrown blankets and pillows at him from his bed for him to sleep on the couch with as soon as he walked through the front door—not to mention how you never give him a chance to explain himself and keep huffing whenever he opened his mouth.
After the second pillow (almost comically, if you weren’t so upset) hits him square in the face, he drops the blankets to grab your wrists.
“Would you stop throwing blankets at me and tell me what’s wrong?”
"Like you don't know," you hiss unhelpfully just to be difficult.
"I wouldn't be asking if I did." This time, his voice is softer when he says, "Talk to me."
"It’s your assistant."
He frowns. “My assistant…?”
“Yes, your assistant,” you huff, making an unsuccessful attempt to yank your wrists free. “She obviously has a thing for you, but you’re too thick to notice. You forgot your phone, and she answered and said you were busy...”
He probably sees the vulnerability on your face. Hears what you’re not telling him because he presses a kiss to your forehead—I’m not seeing anyone other than you—another to your mouth before he’s showing you with your thighs pressed to your chest that every piece of him (even the parts he doesn’t show to anyone else) is yours.
“You want me to send this video to her to let her know you’re the only girl I want to fuck?” he grunts, making sure his phone captures the way his cock pushes in and out of you, hissing dirtier things that only you hear—the tightest pussy he’s ever had. “Would you like that?”
“Y-yes,” you whine, fingernails digging into his hand wrapped around your throat. “Please, Toru. I want it.” 
“So fucking dirty,” he growls, even though he’d do it for you anyway.
He stuffs his cock into you over and over again until you’re a twitching mess underneath him, the walls of your cunt clenching down around him as you cum with a squeak.
“There you go,” he groans into your ear, tossing his phone to the side to pin you against the mattress so he can reach that tender spot deep inside you that made you cum so hard once your foot cramped, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. “Is that what you needed? To make you cum because you’re mine? Fuck, baby—I’ll never get tired of this perfect little cunt.”
“Better not,” you whimper, eyelashes wet, squirming beneath him as he fucks you hard into the soft sheets.
“Never, sweetheart, never.” Gojo’s thrusts turn rough and brutal, almost working you into overstimulation just to prove a point. "You're my girl. The only one for me."
It's not quite an 'I love you,' but it's close.
Afterward, he pulls you between the sheets, holds you close with a hand cupping the back of your head, and asks you to stay.
“For good this time. No more leaving in the morning,” he whispers, lips grazing your cheek. “You like the walk-in closet and the clawfoot tub. We have enough room to turn the spare bedroom into an office for you because you like how sunny it gets in there during the day.”
It’s not a question, but you still say ‘I do’ because you really like how the word we sounds coming from him.
“Then…stay.”
…You say yes because it’s not as if you want to be anywhere else.
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moonhoures · 7 months
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Video Games
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🕷️ kinktober — day 1: angry / makeup sex 🕸️
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pairing: jay (enhypen) + reader (g/n)
genre: non-idol!au, mild angst, smut
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, pet name: ‘baby’ (for reader), unprotected sex, creampie
word count: ~1.9k
synopsis: jay is seemingly put in the doghouse after forgetting to pick you up from work like he promised. but there are some ways he can earn your forgiveness . . .
a/n: this is not as ‘angry’ as you’re probably picturing, but hopefully you guys like it nonetheless 😅 enjoy!
posted: october 1, 2023
kinktober masterlist
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One thing. You asked him to remember one thing. “Don’t forget, I need you to pick me up from work at eight!” You told him twice and reminded him once more before you walked out of the apartment to catch a bus. Jay nodded each time, even going as far to say “Seriously, ________, I’m not a kid. I’ll remember” when you reminded him the last time.
Yet, you stood at the front door of your job at 8:17 p.m, looking and feeling stupid. Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, and your face was stuck in an immovable scowl. You knew you should’ve taken your coworker’s offer to drive you home, but you had put your faith in your boyfriend to do what you asked of him. How silly of you.
You texted and called him multiple times before giving up; he wasn’t answering and he probably wasn’t going to any time soon. I swear if he’s playing those damn video games, you thought with a bite of aggravation. You loved your boyfriend to the moon and back, but if there’s one thing you didn’t like about him it was how attached to his games he got. He was majorly competitive, to the point it was difficult to get him off of the console, especially when he was close to winning whatever dumb game he was playing. And heaven forbid he’s playing with his friends who only encourage his habit even further.
After ten more minutes you went ahead and walked down the street to the bus stop. Your nerves were on edge and your head was on a swivel. You couldn’t help but curse Jay in your head for putting you in this position and making you so anxious. Since your car was in the shop, you had been picking up rides from him and your coworker. You wanted to avoid taking the bus at night at all cost, which is exactly why you nagged your boyfriend to pick you up tonight.
When you finally made it home, the door flung open without care, dinging against the door stopper just in front of the wall. It rattled a bit; you had hoped he would hear it and be startled. But when you walked through the living room, you were even more pissed to see him on the game with his head set on, his phone turned upside down on the table in front of him. Of course he didn’t get my texts and calls, he couldn’t see or hear them.
You scoffed, not giving him a second look as you stormed into your room and slammed the door shut. You vaguely heard him say “Hey, baby” as you got in the hallway.
You decided to run a bath to cool off before you went off on him and said some things you would regret. In the mean time Jay had found it odd you didn’t answer him, his brows knitting together. He wondered why you were in such a weird mood, but figured you might’ve just had a bad day. He shrugged and reached for his phone to check the time. Maybe I’ll have time for one more match, he thought. The screen of his phone lit up when he flipped it over, several missed notifications taking up the entire screen. Some social media notifications were interrupted by five missed texts and seven missed calls from you. Each text asking where he was, how long he would be, had he forgotten? His heart sank into his stomach.
“Shit.”
Jay tore off his headset and quickly logged out of the game, running to your bedroom door. His hand shifted the door knob but was met by resistance when he tried to open it. He closed his eyes in defeat and sighed. His knuckles tapped against the hard surface a few times, “Baby, open the door. I’m so sorry I forgot to pick you up.”
On the other side of the door, you ignored him, turning off the running water in the bath tub before walking back in the room to get some pajamas.
“________, please open the door. I’m really sorry. I know I fucked up,” he continued, voice dripping with sincerity, “I know you told me multiple times, and you don’t have to forgive me. But please just let me apologize to you. I don’t want you to go to bed upset.”
You paused at your dresser. Your determination to stay mad at him was slipping. But your pettiness wasn’t, “Did you win?”
Jay arched an eyebrow in confusion, “Huh?”
“Your game. Did you win? It must’ve been a really important match for you to forget about me.”
Jay let out a groan of annoyance, not so much with you but with himself, “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Really, I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I’ll do all the chores this weekend. I’ll cook your favorite dinner for you. I won’t play my games tomorrow.”
He heard your scoff from the hallway, practically heard your eye roll, too.
“I won’t play my games for a week,” he corrected himself, “A month even. Whatever it takes to get you to talk to me.”
His heart pounded as it grew uncomfortably quiet. He didn’t even hear your soft footsteps, so his eyes became wide when the door in front of him opened. You stood in front of him in just your robe, your disscontempt etched into your face. If looks could kill, he wondered if he would be six feet under already.
“I told you three times, Jay.”
“I know.”
He frowned, looking more ashamed than you had ever seen him. You secretly wished you didn’t love him so much. It made it harder to be upset with him. You wanted him to feel bad, at least for tonight.
“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
“I deserve that,” he agreed.
“And I’m gonna hold you to those promises,” you continued, “No games for two weeks.”
He was shocked that you had downsized the punishment from the month he suggested, but he didn’t show his surprise in case you took it back, “Okay.”
Your hardened stare lingered on him a little longer, and he grew nervous for what would come out of your mouth next. Little did he know you were actually thinking about how cute he looked. How mad you were at yourself for finding him so attractive at a time like this. Fuck you for being so hot, you thought, as if he could hear your thoughts.
“Are we good now?” he asked timidly. His hand cautiously reached up to cup your cheek in a sign of truce.
“You’ll have to earn your way back into my good graces,” you cracked a small smile.
“I’ll do anything,” he repeated, stepping closer to rest his hands on your waist. Your perfume lingered on your robe, filling his nose with the sweet, familiar fragrance that made his heart skip a beat.
“Anything?”
He nodded at your question, a smirk creeping onto his lips. If this was going in the direction he was thinking, then he was about to be a very happy man. His heartbeat accelerated as your hands found purchase on his chest, your palms flat over his pecs. Your eyes lingered on the small sliver of his collarbone that was exposed by the neckline of his t-shirt. When your gaze met his, there was a clear intention behind them that sent blood rushing to Jay’s loins.
Neither of you said anything as you tugged him into the bedroom and closed the door. In a matter of minutes you were on the bed, legs spread to make room for your boyfriend’s hips. Your robe was untied and thrown open as he slathered wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck and chest. Your hand was buried in his hair, pulling lightly on it to keep him where you wanted him.
“You’re gonna fuck me exactly how I want,” you panted, hips already bucking up against his clothed crotch. He moaned in affirmation, the vibrations tickling your nipple that was in his mouth.
“Gonna give me the best orgasm ever,” you added, looking down to see his eyes closed as he laved at your collarbone. They opened to look you in the eye as he came back face-to-face.
“Whatever you want, baby,” he assured you, nodding as he connected your lips with his once again.
Skin-on-skin contact and heavy breaths filled the room shortly after. Jay’s clothes were quickly discarded and he was pounding into you like his life depended on it. Your fingers gripped his back, loving the way you could feel his muscles flexing with every movement. He tried to hold back low grunts as your ankles locked around his waist, causing him to thrust deeper into you. He felt anchored down, but in the best possible way. This position was as close to paradise as he would probably ever get.
“Faster, Jay,” you breathed out, fingernails digging into his skin. He gritted his teeth and fastened his pace as much as he could.
“Fuck,” you cursed, legs tightening around him even more, “Jay, faster!”
“Baby, I’m trying,” he practically whimpered, his thrusts getting a little quicker, but also sloppier. He was losing stamina. You knew he was trying his best, you could just tell. You thought about giving him some slack, but then you remembered how you two got in this position in the first place. You weren’t going to go easy on him at all; he didn’t deserve it.
“Not trying hard enough,” you sighed in annoyance, moving your hips up against his thrusts for more stimulation, “You’re so annoying.”
“So suddenly?” he scoffed out a small laugh, looking at you incredulously. He knew you well enough to know you weren’t being completely serious. You were just letting out your aggression; he didn’t take it to heart.
“Y-yeah,” you panted, wincing when his cock hit a certain spot inside of you that felt a little too good, “You need to listen to me.”
He nodded, his arms shaking a bit from the energy was exerting trying to please you and keep himself stable, “I know, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll be better.”
“Promise?”
In that moment his gaze met yours, mere inches apart. Your breaths mingled between you, chests almost pressed against each other. He could tell you were getting close when he felt you growing tight around his dick. You always looked so beautiful like this—unraveling under him, by his own doing.
“Promise,” he sealed his words with a kiss against your lips, a low growl forming in his throat when you arms wrapped around his shoulders to hold him close to you. Your bodies pressed together like this, he could feel all of you; it drove him insane, “Now, cum for me.”
You were already well on your way when he spoke. Your legs constricted his lower body before growing slack at his sides. Your arms loosely circle him, keeping him close during the aftershocks of your orgasm. He came not long after, keeping slow, shallow thrusts until he came to a halt. He rested his face in the crook of your neck, simply cherishing the proximity to you.
“Can I join you for your bath?” he asked after your breaths had both settled back into their normal inflections.
“Sure, but the water’s probably cold by now. We’ll need to refill it,” your voice was sweet in answering him, as if any other answer would be ridiculous. Your next sentence, however, proved to humble him, “You’re still sleeping on the couch tonight, though.”
Jay cracked a smile, nodding in agreement as he helped you off the bed, “Understood.”
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— taglist #1
@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedrswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @mrsdacherry @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
Text
Steve doesn’t notice the answering machine for several weeks.
His time is split between the hospital and donating food and clothes; and when he’s not doing that, he’s helping put up missing posters for people’s loved ones.
It’s only when both Max and Eddie are discharged that he has a moment to even catch his breath—when, half-dozing on his feet, waiting for a microwave ready meal to heat up, he notices the blinking red light in the hallway.
He feels like he’s still in a dream when he presses ‘play’, hears his mother’s voice. There’s people talking in the background, the echoing, constant chatter of a hotel lobby. She’s laughing at something someone must have said before the answering machine kicked in.
She sounds… happy.
“Steve? Steve?” The rustle of the receiver getting briefly pressed to her blouse, a muffled, “Just a minute, hon, he might still pick up.” Then, clearer: “No, you must be out. All right, Steve, it was just to let you know that we’ll be home a little sooner than we—yes, I’m telling him, what do you think I’m doing?”
Steve’s thoroughly grateful that he’s listening to a message, and no response is required—can only stand there, jaw slack, at just how light his mother’s voice is.
“A couple of work things fell through,” she continues with a breeziness that probably means several major ‘things’ went disastrously wrong, work related or otherwise. But it doesn’t sound like she cares all that much; if anything, she sounds excited.
“So I thought we could—well, I don’t know how late we’ll be, but if you’re not too hungry, we could just order some pizza, lazy dinner? Plain cheese for you, right?” The distant ring of a bell on a counter. “Steve, darling, I know we haven’t been—” She cuts herself off with a sigh that’s gone too quickly for Steve to parse.
He hasn’t ordered a plain cheese pizza since he was 12 years old. But she’s trying, he thinks. She’s trying.
“Oh, we’re just checking out. What? No, I thought you had that bag. Oh, well, just—sorry, Steve, see you tonight. Love y—”
The message ends.
In a daze, Steve replays it once, twice—it’s on the third re-listen that he hears the mechanical voice intone what date the message was left.
See you tonight.
He inhales sharply just as the microwave beeps, and then he’s out the door, leaving the food to congeal.
-
He knows the route they would have taken. Plays it backwards in his head as he drives. Can see them in his mind’s eye taking the exit that leads into Hawkins—his mom berating his dad for not using his turn signal.
He finds the road. Stops. Gets out and presses his hand to the tarmac. He can feel it under his palm, like a scar.
The gates spread, at the end.
There’s no proof, nothing he can point to and say there, that’s what happened to them. Not a trace.
But he knows.
He knows.
-
“Okay, what’s up?” Eddie asks him three days later.
It’s almost funny, how little things have changed. Steve keeps waiting for a knock at the door, a just kidding! There’s no harried phone calls from their work, so they must have taken extended leave or—he doesn’t know.
He’s never going to know.
“Nothing,” Steve shrugs. “Just thinking if the kids want popcorn now or later.”
Eddie’s suspicion melts away with a snort; it’s too easy. “Stupid question—the answer is always now.”
“Yeah, yeah. Second cupboard on your left, Munson, knock yourself out.”
“What am I, the maid?” But Eddie’s already reaching for the popcorn, opening the microwave door with a clunk, and then there’s an abrupt silence.
Steve realises why a second too late. “Shit, I—sorry, lemme just—”
He picks up the plastic tray full of mouldy pasta and throws it in the trash—feels a prickle of shame as he does so.
It’s stupid that this is the thing that makes his breathing catch. So fucking—senseless.
“Steve,” Eddie says haltingly, like he somehow knows this isn’t just about being absent-minded.
“Don’t,” Steve says.
He knows that’s practically a signed confession already. But Eddie nods and even cleans the damn microwave without a word of complaint. Because the popcorn still needs to be done, and the kids are waiting, and they’re pretending, Steve thinks.
They’re all just pretending.
-
He loses himself in washing up, makes the water run hot and doesn’t wear gloves, lets his skin scald. They’d all ordered pizza, and Steve had hidden every slice he’d taken, torn them all up and stuffed them into a napkin.
He stops when he comes to a large plate with a floral trim.
Would she have picked this one? he wonders. The pizza would’ve looked pretty, served up on that.
And then, as quickly as that thought came, another takes its place. How dare she? How dare she think that a fucking lazy dinner would fix everything? Did she think he’d just forgive her, forgive them both, just like that?
But she never got the chance. He’ll never get the chance to—
A sharp, stabbing pain. Steve turns off the faucet automatically, sees that the plate has smashed in the sink. A shard of china in his palm.
Eddie’s voice echoes in the hallway. “Um, I called Wheeler? Uh, Nancy. She—she took them all home.”
“Cool,” Steve says, voice tight.
He knows that Eddie has entered the kitchen when he hears a shocked hiss. “Dude, what the fuck? You’re bleeding, wait there, just—”
It’s not a deep cut, Steve thinks numbly. He doesn’t know why Eddie is worried. But he lets him fuss, lets him gently pry the remnants of the plate away, lets him wrap a bandage tightly.
“Hey,” Eddie says. His voice is soft. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it, ‘kay?”
Steve can’t look at him. Clenches his jaw.
“We will, you hear me, Harrington? I promise.”
Steve shakes his head. “Can’t fix—” he gets out before his throat closes up, and when he glances back, Eddie’s eyes are wide and fearful.
“What?” he says sharply, and he looks almost nauseous, like he suspects he’s about to be told that the monsters are back, that they have never even left. “What the fuck do you mean? You’ve got to tell me, man, just—”
Steve makes an anguished noise that feels like it comes from somewhere in his chest, and Eddie freezes. He considers Steve for a long moment.
“Okay,” he says, a wary placation. “Can you… um. Can you show me instead?”
Steve blinks. He flexes his hand, uncaring of the cut, and jerks his head to the hallway.
Eddie stares. Frowns. Then leaves.
He figures it out, of course he does. Steve just stands there, hears the click of the answering machine. He closes his eyes.
This is all that’s left; these are his scraps. A sigh he’ll never understand. An aborted, “I love you.” It had never come easily to her, but it had left her freely then.
Why?
A hand on his shoulder. Steve opens his eyes.
Eddie looks stricken. “Steve,” he whispers, then stops like he doesn’t have the words.
Steve can’t blame him. Neither does he.
“I didn’t—I didn’t know,” Eddie says. “Steve, I didn’t—”
“They were coming home,” Steve says stupidly, feels a bit like he’s twelve years old. “They were—Eddie. They were gonna come home.”
“Oh,” Eddie says, and it leaves him all in one breath. “Oh, Steve. C’mere.”
Steve falls against him, muffles something that’s half a cry, half a scream against his shoulder—and mourns the loss of a conversation he will never have.
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barcaatthemoon · 1 month
Text
serial heartbreaker || leila ouhabi x reader ||
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leila comes back to barcelona after you figure out that she cheated on you in manchester.
it became obvious that something was up whenever your teammates started acting weird around you. alexia and mapi were the first, but ona, pina, and claudia quickly followed suit. ona began to outright avoid you, which hurt pretty badly. almost as badly as whenever you finally realized what was going on.
you sat with your suspicions for several weeks before they were officially confirmed. leila was careful, but she got sloppy. it was in the back of someone else's instagram stories. your eyes had zeroed in on your girlfriend making out with another girl in the background of a video that one of her teammates had shot.
it was hard not letting on that you knew anything, but you weren't nearly as good at it as you thought you were. alexia could see that you were hurting, as could more of your more perceptive teammates. the one who had shocked you was lucy, who had snapped at leila whenever she came back to spain for a visit, claiming to have missed you dearly.
"get the fuck out of here," lucy had practically growled at leila. the woman had planned on surprising you, and at lucy ruining that, leila got pissed. the two of them were at each other's throats, and it took mapi and alexia leading leila away for things to calm down a bit. you couldn't hear them at first, but soon the hallway was full of your two barcelona teammates yelling at leila in spanish. "are you okay?"
"yeah, i'm fine," you answered quietly. lucy kneeled down next to you and put her hand around your shoulders. "how long have you guys known?"
"ona told me about it a few months ago. i didn't want to have to be the one to tell you. i'm sorry for not mentioning it earlier," lucy said. you nodded as you pulled her into a hug.
"it's okay. i probably wouldn't have believed you for a while. i couldn't, leila promised she'd never do something like this," you said. lucy understood how you felt. ona had been livid with the other spanish player whenever she had found out, to the point where lucy was certain they hadn't spoken to each other since. "when do you think they'll be done? i do have to talk to leila at some point."
"just tell her to get the fuck out of here, please? i know that she means a lot to you, but you can't go back to her. ona said it herself, leila will do it again," lucy pleaded with you. if it had been anybody else, you probably would have ignored the warnings, but lucy didn't like to get involved with people's lives like this.
"i'll try to," you promised. lucy pressed a kiss to your head before she helped you up to your feet. the two of you walked over to where alexia and mapi were still tearing into leila, who looked both ashamed and angry. lucy pulled your teammates away to give you some privacy with leila.
"amor," leila started. she moved towards you, but you held your hand up to keep her away from you. "please, let me explain."
"there's nothing to explain, leila. you cheated on me, it is that simple. you can blame the distance, your loneliness, the fact that you're just so affectionate. you can say anything that you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you cheated on me," you told her. "so go ahead and explain yourself because i'd love to hear whatever bullshit you've been telling yourself, but once you're done, i want you to answer all my questions."
"i missed you, and i was angry because i told you not to come with me. you offered to come to manchester, but i told you to stay here instead. i was all alone, and it was my fault, so i took it upon myself to be less lonely. it was just hook ups at first, i swear, and then there was this girl on the training staff. we hit it off, things are going great, but she's not you," leila said. all her words did was fill you with rage. she had confirmed that this had been going on for a lot longer than you knew, and worse than that, she was still with one of the girls she had cheated with.
"get the fuck out of here. if i never see you again, it'll still be too fucking soon." you turned on your heels and walked right out of the room. leila tried to chase after you, but lucy was right there to stop her. you walked into the locker room and went straight to your locker, beginning to pack up your things to go home.
"(y/n), are you okay?" mapi asked as she sat down next to you. you weren't crying, it was far past that, but you were obviously pissed. you didn't mean to direct it at mapi, but the glare you gave her had the woman backing away from you instantly. unfortunately for you, alexia wasn't as easily scared by you.
"i'm sorry that we didn't do something before," alexia said as she pulled you into a hug. her embrace was tight and comforting, but you didn't let yourself relax. most of the girls looked away, but you could see ona standing across the room looking at you longingly. she had been avoiding you for months, and it killed her to not be by your side as your best friend.
"come here oni," you told her. she raced over towards you, both of you dissolving into fits of tears as soon as you were in each other's arms. her apologies were scrambled in between sobs and spanglish, but you knew that she meant it. still, a part of you couldn't forgive her for what happened. she had known since the beginning that leila had cheated on you, but she hadn't said anything to you.
"do you need a ride home?" alexia asked once you and ona had calmed down a little. you nodded as you picked up your bag. the team didn't miss the way that you ignored ona as she said goodbye to you. the anger you felt for leila was starting to spread around the team, and if it wasn't for the fact that you needed alexia for support, you'd probably shut her out too. "it's not an excuse, but none of us knew how to tell you about leila. you seemed so happy, and i knew she'd do this when she started talking about switching teams. i didn't think it'd get so out of hand."
"were you listening to us?" you asked. alexia nodded her head as she started driving. you knew that she wasn't taking you back to your apartment. "did you know it was with so many girls?"
"no, it's never been that many before," alexia muttered. you could see that she wasn't just angry. "you were supposed to be different for her. i believed in her not to do this again. i'm sorry, if there's anybody you should be mad at, it's me, not ona. i'm the one who knew about this pattern. don't ruin a friendship with someone who doesn't deserve to be caught in the crossfire."
"it's hard right now. all i can think about is that she knew," you admitted. alexia sighed as she squeezed your hand. "i could have done the same thing to leila, but i didn't. why did she have to do that to me?"
"sometimes, she's careless about things that she shouldn't be. she was careless with your trust. it's hard, but try not to think about her. don't give her a second thought, because eventually, the pain will subside along with your feelings for her," alexia said. you tilted your head to the side as you realized that she was speaking from experience. "do you want to be alone right now or can i come inside too?"
"don't you have practice?" you questioned. alexia shrugged.
"not if you need a shoulder to cry on," she told you. "let me know what you need, and i'll do my best to get it for you."
"i want you to come with me, and maybe, when practice is over, we can call ona," you told her. alexia nodded as she got out of the car. she got your bag for you, and for a moment, it reminded you of the way that leila had been with you in the beginning of your relationship. the only difference was that alexia didn't look at you like leila did, as if she knew that you were already head over heels for her.
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tetsuskei · 4 months
Text
belonging - portgas d. ace [nsfw]
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synopsis: it’s never the best time when it’s his birthday, but luckily he has you to show him differently
notes: two days late, but this is the bday fic dedicated to my soul, my luvr boy. poured so much into this that it kinda doesn’t make sense but we will roll with it <3 kicking off the year with him and wouldn’t have it any other way !
warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, self doubt, depression (ace has some dark thoughts), anxiety, praise, nipple biting and sucking, body worship, barely edited so probably lots of typos, reader has fem body parts
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ace always assumed that ‘falling in love’ was something that happened to other people, not to him.
his entire life had been a series of doubts and questions to himself. doubts about if he deserved the good things that came to him and the people who entered his life.
but gone were the days where ace let out all his anger towards anyone and everyone in the world. if you could ask anyone about him now, they would have only amazing things to say about him. many see him as a brilliant leader, one not to be meddled with. his brothers admire his never ending strength and courage. his spirit was always there to uplift others.
so who would be there to lift him up?
only you have seen who he is once broken down. once he’s out of the public eye, and behind closed doors, he’s a much more sombre person. he’s clingy, and soft. sad, and vulnerable.
it’s not a surprise to you that he struggles with his mind sometimes. that there are days where he may spend too much time in his head, fighting off demons.
“what am i doing here?” he asked one time. it wasn’t a question directed towards you, and from the empty look in his dark brown eyes, you could tell he was having trouble answering himself.
having the blood of a devil circulating in his veins is a double edged sword. he always told himself to not let where he came from hold him back. that mentality had gotten him this far, after all. it became a driving point for him.
but after quickly rising up in ranks and making a name for himself just like so, his mindset started to change. he began to not really know what he was after. yes, he wants to be more famous than his father, but so what? what would come next?
he focused on a much simpler task. he wanted to live each day without regrets.
many considered ace like the sun. he shined so brightly on his own (literally and figuratively), but in a way, it was a curse. he shined so brightly that if anyone came too close to him, he would burn them. they’d scorch up in flames within an instant.
but you were different. despite how brightly he shone, you didn’t let that stop you. it scared him, to say the least. the only people who he was comfortable being vulnerable with in his feelings were his brothers, and yamato being another person. now you were the fourth.
you had picked and pried at him in a way no one ever had before. getting scorched (literally and figuratively) in the process. you showed him kindness and affection that he only saw in the pages of fairytales.
he knew very little about gentleness. but it didn’t mean it was impossible. the feeling of your finger tips running over his bare skin is enough to soothe him. it makes him feel like he is at home and belongs. and in return, he wanted to give you that same feeling.
he wanted to live, and always come back to you.
ace always seemed more tense around this time of year. a little more gruff, and on edge. but not in a way that makes him dangerous. or, at least to you. he just seemed a lot quieter, and more consumed in his thoughts.
his birthday, as it turned out, had always been a sore subject amongst the whitebeard pirates. no one ever pried too much into his past. even after he told you and several others of his father, of his mother, no one wanted to push him to speak more about it.
you don’t make the most grand gesture out of his birthday, only requesting help from thatch to make a grand spread of all his favorite foods, and small decorated cake.
“i’m not going to ask anything of you, but only for you to have a good time. no sulking, kay?” you told him that morning.
when finally getting time alone with your boyfriend that evening, you sat with him, holding him in your arms as the two of you watched the stars.
ace loved when you talked about the stars to him. you told him once that the constellations that sit in the sky are the same ones projected onto his face in the form of freckles. he thought it was the most ridiculous thing ever, until you said one thing.
“the stories written up in the stars are no different from the ones that live in your eyes.”
his eyes always told you what he was thinking. after all, you read him so well. you long since noticed the troubled look on his face, but remained impassive as you know he’ll come to you when he’s ready to talk. for right now, having you as his support is the best thing you could give him.
eventually, he told you that he ‘just wanted to forget about things’ and while you understood what he meant without a full explanation, you wanted to make it known how thankful you are that he’s here. that he was born. that he’s a gifted presence in your life—and so many other people’s.
one thing led to another—shared kisses and words of declarations as you shedded each others clothes off.
right now ace lays under you, a complete mess as you ride his cock. his hat was on your head at first, but now it lays somewhere on the ground.
“ahh~ fuck!” a pretty gasp leaves his rose colored lips, his eyes glazed over with tears. his adrenaline has his blood pumping like crazy, and his cock is of course no expectation to that rule. he’s twitching erratically inside of you, more than likely leaking heavily as he holds back his orgasm. his chest feels tight from how much your cunt is gripping him. it’s like you’re sucking the life out of him.
funnily enough, he’s already cum once, but his stamina, is unlimited. he’d be able to go for hours on end. that doesn’t deter you from your goal of completely fucking him stupid.
ace thinks you look beautiful above him the way that you do. like an angel that descended from the heavens. he doesn’t think he believes in any gods, but he knows surely you were sent by some celestial being to be the best gift he’s ever had in his life.
“you’re doing so good for me, ace.” you hum, leaning over his muscular form to kiss the shell of his ear. he keens when your lips then meet the sensitive juncture of his jaw and neck. your tongue swipes up any access sweat and you hum, cheekily biting him. “taste so good, too.”
his whole body is boiling to the touch, to say the least. black, greasy hair matted to his forehead. his brown eyes are blown out in pleasure, and he thinks he’s dying.
it shouldn’t be possible that he feels this good.
“don’t say that.” he grumbles shyly, hiding his face behind his hand. you pin it down to the bed, eyes glaring down at him.
“it’s true, though.” you argue, “and you feel so good too. always fill me up so well.” you moan, letting your head fall back as you grind down on him, pleasure crawling up your spine as his cock rides up against your cervix, kissing your gummy walls lovely.
“if you keep talkin’ like that i’m gonna cum again…” he warns, whining slightly.
you grin, “that’s the plan.”
ace groans, letting his head fall back on the pillows, “jesus christ, woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”
you laugh, “i would say death do us part, but i’d like to think we’d follow each other into the afterlife. i feel like that’s the true meaning of a soulmate.”
ace can’t help the tears that permeate at his ducts when he feels overwhelmed with love by you and for you.
“well, i hope that if we’re reborn, we find each other in the next life.” he says breathlessly.
you hum, smiling, “of course we will.”
he’s silent before his hands guide your hips, helping you bounce on him. there’s a deafening squelching sound from the combined slick and it drives both of you crazy.
“you’re so pretty, ace.” you say, kissing the freckles on his face.
he frowns, glaring at you, “the correct term is handsome or sexy. men aren’t ‘posed to be ‘cute’.” there’s a pout on his face and it only adds on to your statement.
you laugh, “sure, baby. whatever you want.”
“‘whatever’ my ass,” he says crudely, “why don’t you make yourself useful and cum on me?” he isn’t asking though, and brings his thumb to your clit.
a sharp breath of air escapes you as you realize how much your impending orgasm is creeping up on you.
“wait…” you start, hand reaching out to stop his own.
he swats its away. “you said to make sure i’m having a good time, and this is helping.” he smirks, “no ‘sulking’, remember?”
you don’t have time to answer when your boyfriend leans over you, taking one of your breasts in his mouth to suck.
a loud moan escapes you once a euphoric pleasure washes over you. you quickly seize up before you realize your cumming hard on him.
ace grunts, closing his eyes once he feels you milking him. you’re a walking sin, and the grievance between your legs would be his downfall.
he hooks his hands under your legs before flipping you over to lay you on your back.
“a-ace…” you stutter, looking up in shock at how much his energy has suddenly changed.
“my pretty girl.” he smiles, kissing your nose, cheeks, and finally your lips. “just relax.”
his hips began to steadily rock into you as he takes over the pace, his hefty balls slapping loudly against your ass.
still sensitive, you twitch and jerk under his grasp, feeling helpless and near limp as he rails you.
“nothing ‘cute’ about the way i’m fuckin’ you, now is there?” he grins, hand titling your jaw to the side before proceeding to suck marks into your delicate skin.
a keen slips from your mouth and you try to catch your breath, “o-okay, you proved a point.”
“damn straight.” he moves both of his hands downwards, holding onto your thighs before moving your legs over his shoulders.
the new angle feels as if the wind is knocked out of you. with the way he’s looking at you adoringly, and damn near shattering your pelvis you might as well be conflicted on if he loves or loathes you.
“always feel so fucking good. wish i could stay in you forever.” he moans, biting his lip. “so perfect like this. i’m so lucky.”
you gasp, your toes curling at the way his tip drags itself seamless over your insides. your eyes threaten to roll back but you fight it, seeing how ethereal your boyfriend looks when he’s feral.
he’s never been the best with words, but with the way he takes care of you, especially in the moment you share right now, you can feel the essence of his love. the way his hand reaches grips yours to kiss your knuckles.
“thank you…for always loving me.” he pants, “and for showing me things in life i never thought i’d be able to see.”
“thought i told you to stop thanking me.” you hit him on the head. you pull on his hair but he only groans, cock twitching.
ace pulls back from your neck, “i’m serious, i…i’ve never been this happy before.”
you only smile at him before grabbing his face with both of your hands, kissing him long and passionately.
he ruts into you, chasing his release. his vision is nearly spotting with how sensitive his nerves are, but his body has a mind of its own as it craves endless pleasure.
“s-shit! i’m gonna cum!”
shamelessly, you lock your legs around him, pulling him in closer wordlessly.
he laughs, sweat trickling down his brow, “ah~ you want it again, yeah? can’t get enough of my cum, can you?”
“always need to be filled by you, ace.” you moan, nails clawing helplessly at his back.
you lean forward before your teeth gently sink into a pert nipple, making him shout and swear as his orgasm is triggered.
and as he spills into you again for the second time that evening, you find yourself following him in suspension of death.
ace lays his weight on you, not crushing you, but knowing him and his narcolepsy, he just damn near will in a second.
you use all your strength to turn both of you over, and he grunts. if it was wet before between the two of you, it’s soaking now as his cum trickles down your legs.
“you’re wastin’ it…” he grumbles, holding your hips tight.
“not my fault you’re a human cum geyser.” you retort. “now let me get up.”
he pouts, “just…stay like this for awhile?”
“fine, but you’re cleaning me up.” you warn. “happy birthday, you animal.”
a sleepy grin appears on his face as he kisses the top of your head. “yeah, i love you too.”
and so maybe after all, he could learn a lot more about what life has to offer, especially if that means you’d be by his side. there’s nothing he truly wouldn’t fear anymore. not in life or in death.
854 notes · View notes
freak-accident419 · 3 months
Text
High On You
Derek Danforth x GN!AFAB!Reader
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Summary: You read over the statistics and analytics for Derek’s company, as he requested. Except, while you do this, you’re on his bed, lower half of your body exposed as he does lines of cocaine on your thigh—then he eats you out.
WC: 1.2k
Content: 18+ smut, MDNI, derek danforth x reader (gn!afab!reader), oral (v!receiving), no spoilers for The Beekeeper, brief (yet detailed) cocaine/drug use, graphic depictions of sex and drugs (this is probably the filthiest thing i ever wrote on here), cursing
(A/n: I couldn’t wait to write it, so here !! Haven’t watched the movie yet, but if I notice that there’s anything incorrect here once I do, I’ll go back and change it ! I’m so sorry to my AMAB readers and/or the AFAB readers who get dysphoria from this type of writing !! You can check out my other smuts that aren’t genital-specific !! Love you all!! And thanks to everyone for your support !! Anyways, I think that Derek doing coke on the reader is such a Derek thing to do.)
Tags: @thehermitsaltar @coriolanussnowswife @moonlight-rosevine @harrysflorist @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @joshhutchersons-slut
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Your rich boyfriend, Derek Danforth, asked you to read over the statistics and analytics of his phishing center, informing him how much money he’s earned in the past week.
Except it wasn’t a very professional or orderly way.
You laid on his bed, looking at the information on your phone, reading how much millions were gained on Thursday, while your entire lower body was naked. You two were always a very intimate couple, so this wasn’t new or had invoked any feelings of diffidence, as your legs were spread out across the mattress.
He snorted a line of cocaine, pressing down on one of his nostrils to inhale the drug after spilling the white powder onto your thigh and scraping it into several thin lines using one of his credit cards. It felt tingly, to have him do this on your thigh, his head ever so close to your cunt. While this occurred, his free hand was resting on your other bare thigh.
He let out an ecstatic groan afterward, and then looked at you as his high rushed in. “What—What’d you say again, baby?”
You chuckle softly at his mannerisms. “I said that in total, for Thursday at least, UDG obtained, like, over six fucking million,” you reply, looking over the statistics on your phone again. “Business is booming.”
Derek smirked as he was satisfied to hear the news. “Damn fuckin’ right it is.”
His body slightly tensed up as he quickly inhaled another white line on your thigh through his nostril, briefly rubbing his nose afterwards. The sharp inhale caused him to feel a surge of euphoria throughout his body as the drugs entered his system. His eyes closed in pleasure, then opened, pupils slightly dilated.
You watched him do this, taking a short drag of your cigarette. “Last week’s average was five point two million dollars,” you add, observing him as he corrected the final line with the card, straightening it out onto your thigh.
“So what was the total earned in that week?” He inquired as your cigarette remained hanging from your mouth.
“Thirty-six million dollars, baby,” you answer proudly while he inhales the last line quite harshly, and heard him whoop as he gained exhilaration from both the drug and the statistics.
You finally place your phone down on the night stand to give full attention to your boyfriend. You bring your hand to his hair, tangling his soft, light curls in your fingers. “Congratulations,” you praise gently, watching Derek close his eyes in pleasure, leaving a small kiss on your thigh.
He placed the package of coke on the night stand and adjusted himself on the bed between your legs. He continued to leave soft kisses on your thigh, gradually trailing towards your untouched pussy.
“Mm, I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?” He observed, demonstrating a hint of pity. “Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking wet,” he huffs, pulling your hips closer to his face as he finally licked up your cunt in an animalistic fashion.
You let out a soft sigh, your fingers still in his hair, and you grab the cigarette out of your mouth, immediately putting it out on the ashtray.
Derek’s warm tongue caressed along your folds exuberantly, moving up and down as your breath hitched. He gripped your thighs tightly, pushing his face even further in your cunt. You let out a gasp—almost a moan—as he flicked your clit with his tongue, stimulating the sensitive nub which elicited even more intense sounds from your mouth.
“O-oh, fuck, Derek!” You moaned as you felt him suck at your clit, closing his lips around it while lightly moving his hands up and down from your thighs to your sensitive hips, thumb pushing down on your pelvic bone for a brief moment, causing more pleasure within you. “S-so good, love… Fuck, yes.”
He lapped at your dripping pussy once more, threatening to poke inside each time his tongue ran over your entrance. He incessantly licked at you, so desperately and lustfully, occasionally tugging at your flesh between his soft lips.
“Taste s’fucking good,” he mutters between his rapid licks, “S’fucking good for me Y/n…” He rubbed off some leftover powder on your thigh, messily inhaling it through his nose for enhanced stimulus.
Your thighs jolting as you let out a high-pitched whine once you felt his tongue finally push inside your wet, aching cunt. He was eating you out as if you were forbidden fruit, because he would rather die than never be able to taste you. Pleasing to the eye, he really couldn’t help it. He was practically making out with your pussy, exploring your walls with his generous tongue.
Your legs closed around his head and you brought both of your hands to his hair, tugging his curls, which gets a muffled groan out of him, the vibration causing you to feel even more pleasure. Your breath hitched and you choked out a moan as you felt his nose bumping against your clit as he ate you out. Derek felt so hazy and foggy from his high, and because everything was so sensitive for him, he could practically cum untouched from how much arousal he gained from pleasing you. Not only was he high on cocaine, but he was also high on your taste, and hearing you moan was his ultimate addiction.
“Sh-shit, Derek…” Your head turned to the side tiredly, eyes threatening to close as you felt overwhelmed with all the stimulation. Derek hooked one of his arms around your thigh so he could place his hand warmly on your stomach, below your belly button yet over your cunt, now focusing more on his precision.
You felt yourself closer to your orgasm, waves of pleasure crashing onto you each second. Derek slipped his tongue out, just to spread your pussy lips apart with his fingers, and then lap his tongue against your cunt again sloppily, making your thighs twitch, incoherent whimpers escaping your mouth. “Holy shit, you’re so fucking hot…” he mumbles.
You let out a high-pitched moan as his long, slender middle finger inserted into you effortlessly, quick, deep thrusts provoking wet, vulgar squelches while he simultaneously sucked your clit again. He pulled out his finger smoothly, abrasively running it between your soaked folds, then pushed it back in deeply.
“G-God! Fuck!” You whined, back arching as you succumbed to his touch. Abruptly, he spit on your cunt, lapped his tongue on you, switching constantly between your folds and your clit. You felt a knot in your stomach, in which Derek’s free hand had still remained resting on it. His licks were fast and rough, and you felt yourself being driven over the edge. “G—Fuck, Derek, b-baby, I-I’m—”
“That’s it, that’s it, baby,” he encouraged softly in between licks. He looked at you hungrily with his deep brown eyes, “Cum for me.”
The second you heard his command, you came hard around his finger, moaning his name loudly as he slipped it out to desperately taste your juices, him groaning in your cunt. You whimpered and shuddered uncontrollably, his insistent touch bringing you to overstimulation. He kissed it a few times, then brought himself up from the mattress to make you with you, lips moving with yours as it allowed you to taste yourself.
“Fucking love you,” he muttered in the kiss. “So good for me, Y/n, fuck.” He held you in his arms softly, being as gentle as he could, rubbing your arms up and down comfortingly. The room smelled like sex, as the atmosphere consisted of only your deep breaths and the soft, wet smacking of your kisses.
“Fuck,” you panted, and the corner of your lips curled into a relieved smile until you kissed him again. “I love you too.”
721 notes · View notes
jobean12-blog · 10 months
Text
Perfect Kind of Trouble
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word Count: 4,566
Summary: You’re new to the neighborhood and you’ve landed a great job bartending at one of the local spots. So far it’s been a good change and things are going smoothly, that is, until Bucky Barnes, the neighborhood’s most eligible bachelor, walks into your bar and sets his sights on you. 
Author’s Note: I love the idea of Bucky chasing after a girl who gives him a run for his money! Hope you enjoy! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰
Warnings: Lots of fluff, flirting, tension, Bucky might be a bit possessive but in a good way and he definitely goes for what he wants and that’s you, some sass in there, Bucky is protective too :) and Nat is the best wingman ever! 
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“Oh my god, he’s here.”
You stop drying the glass in your hand and go stiff, side eyeing your friend Nat.
“Who Nat?”
She doesn’t answer and instead slides closer to you, leaning her head toward your ear.
“Bucky Barnes.”
“Who?” you ask again, starting to crane your neck to look.
“Don’t!” she snaps then instantly softens her tone. “Just meet me in the back in two minutes and don’t make it look suspicious.”
You give her a tiny nod and go back to your work on the glasses but you can feel the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end. You can feel his stare.
“Ok. What the hell is up with you?” you ask when you shut the door to the back room.
She’s pacing back and forth and it’s making you nervous but when she meets your eyes you relax slightly at the smile on her face.
“Bucky Barnes,” she repeats.
“Yeah? And? I have no idea who that is!”
“Of course you don’t!” she muses. “You wouldn’t know because you only moved here a few weeks ago.”
“Righttt…so, who is he?”
“Just the perfect man.”
“How do you know?”
“Everyone knows.”
You quirk your brow and cross your arms over your chest.
“Well, everyone who lives in the neighborhood,” she laughs.
“If he’s so perfect I’m sure he’s married with two point five kids, a dog and a house with a white picket fence.”
“There are no white picket fences in Brooklyn babe,” she says. “And you’d think that but he’s been a bachelor for as long as we know him.”
“Then he’s probably a player and an asshole!” you state.
“I mean sure, all the women, and men, talk about how hot he is and how much they want a shot and boy do they try but as far as I know he doesn’t date.”
“I don’t get it,” you say.
“Me neither!” she agrees. “But he hasn’t been at this bar in forever…”
“Maybe he wanted a change of scenery?” you say with a shrug.
“OR MAYBEEEEEEEE,” she starts, her grin growing. “He heard there’s a new girl in town and he’s here to see you!”
“You’re insane! And he sounds like a player to me.” you huff. “I’m going back to work. Come on, you have to point him out to me. I at least want a look.”
“I won’t need to. You’ll know who he is…”
At her wistful tone you roll your eyes, pushing open the door and walking out with determined steps.
When you hit the bar you discreetly scan the seats. You don’t see anyone that stands out, mostly just the usual crew that shows up on a Saturday night for four-dollar drafts.
A customer calls you over and you head in his direction with a smile. You’re just greeting him and taking his order when you feel that familiar heat at your back, your skin tingling.
Once you’ve got the drink order you turn toward the bar only to lock eyes with the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. It momentarily stops you in your tracks and if it weren’t for Nat lightly bumping your shoulder and whispering, “told ya so,” you would stay rooted to the spot to stare.
Instead you blink several times and look away, trying to remember what drink you’re supposed to make.
When you’ve finished making it you deliver it to the customer and try to take another peek down the bar.
“I’m not taking his drink order,” Nat singsongs when she comes to stand beside you. “That’s all you.”
Your mouth falls open and you give her a glare with narrowed eyes. She just smiles brightly and sashays to the other end of the bar to take another order.
With a huff of annoyance you square your shoulders and turn toward Bucky. As you approach him his eyes light up with his smile.
“Hi, what can I get you?”
He returns your greeting and sticks his hand out.
“I’m James Barnes but you can call me Bucky.”
You wipe your hand on the towel at your side and shake his. The shock of electricity at his touch doesn’t seem to be one sided when you feel the slight squeeze from his hand. You introduce yourself, hoping you don’t come off as confused at his direct attention.
“Apparently you’re rather popular around here?”
It comes out as a question and he chuckles.
“Don’t believe anything you’ve heard,” he says with a wink.
“So what about a drink?” you ask, focusing on doing your job.
He orders and before he can say more you rush off to fix his drink. You drop it off with nothing more than a smile and move toward the next person who calls for your help.
As you’re making your next few drinks you notice Nat chatting with Bucky and you can’t help but wonder what they’re saying.
You move back and forth behind the bar, trying to ignore the feel of Bucky’s eyes, but he finally catches your attention and waves you down.
“Another?” you ask.
“Sure doll, thanks.”
While you’re pouring his drink he tries to keep you engaged.
“So Nat told me you’re new to town?”
“Yeah, moved here at the end of last month.”
“Do you like bartending better here in the city?” he asks.
You look down at the bar and scold with a single name.
“Nat.”
Bucky leans in. “Don’t be mad. She’s just trying to help me out.”
You lean in too, elbows on the bar and your head tilted his way.
“You usually need help? From what I’ve heard you can have your pick of anyone.”
At the slight scrunch of your nose he can tell you’re not saying it with a positive tone.
“Not my style. I’m pickier and right now, I need all the help I can get because I think I’m in real danger of striking out.”
His eyes drop to your lips and when they turn up every so slightly he relaxes.
“What is your type?” you ask. “Maybe I can help you out too.”
He scans you slowly and the proceeds to describe you perfectly, the tension building in the inches between you with his every word.
You steel yourself and lift your chin. “Does that usually work?”
“It’s not a line. Meant every word doll face.”
“Do you use these endearments on all the girls? I bet they love it.”
“Nuh uh,” he answers adamantly.
You nod, looking completely unconvinced.
Nat reappears at your side. “You have no idea how much I hate to interrupt this, but I need three long island iced teas at table four or they’re gonna have a hissy fit.”
You straighten yourself. “Oh sorry! Of course. I’m on it.”
You’re busy for the next forty-five minutes but Bucky never leaves his spot and every time you meet his eyes they are heavy with intention as they follow your every move. You can feel them, the heat singing every inch of your skin.
At least two women have approached him at the bar but they both walked away after a few minutes of mundane conversation and lack of interest on his part.
As much as you hate to admit it you can’t help but steal glances at him too, though you try to keep them quick and subtle.
He’s broad shouldered in the tight tee shirt he’s wearing, his biceps on full display under the stretch of the fabric and his dark hair is loose at his shoulders. His full lips are framed by a dark scruff that also covers his cheeks and is peppered with patches of gray.
Your fingers mindlessly caress the glass you’re holding before you catch yourself and look away.
You drop off another glass of whiskey with a smile and he nurses it, shooting you a cocky half smirk when he catches you staring at him. It’s like the intense silence is some sort of foreplay.
Feeling his gaze along your skin, drinking you in and driving you wild, you do your best to keep up with orders.
When things start to slow down and customers go home, you finally make your way back toward Bucky, drawn to him, despite your best efforts.
“Couldn’t avoid me anymore?”
“I wasn’t really…”
The words taper off at the sharp lift of his eyebrow.
“Sorry,” you mutter.
“Apology accepted,” he smirks. “So, do you have plans when you get off?”
You don’t answer, instead fiddling with his now empty glass. He lays his hand on the bar, his fingers just an inch form yours.
“Are you really gonna ignore my question doll?” he chuckles.
His fingers slide closer and he brushes his thumb over your knuckles, gauging your reaction. You giggle at his second question and his eyes drop to your mouth as he licks his own lips.
You’re almost lost in the bubble but then the world outside comes roaring back into focus when you hear Nat yell “last call.”
“Work…I still have to work.”
His lips part on an exhale but he let’s you go.
You rush around the bar first, clearing glasses and debris before heading over to one of the tables where three guys sit in conversation.
Distracted, you lean over the table, trying not to interrupt them. But the blonde closest to you runs the back of his hand up your arm.
It makes you cringe.
“Hi there,” he says.
“Hey,” you answer coolly, shifting away from him.
One of the blonde’s friend gives you an apologetic look, scolding Rob before he hands you one of the empty glasses that’s far out of reach. You reach for it and as soon as your fingers wrap around it, Rob grabs your hips and yanks you into his lap.
You drop the glass to the floor and it shatters before you push against his chest, loudly yelling, “what the hell?”
Rob starts to speak but you’re suddenly lifted in the air and whirled around then planted gently on your feet behind Bucky’s broad back.
Bucky now has Rob’s tee shirt fisted in one hand as he gets in his face.
The bar goes silent and the next thing you hear is the low growl of Bucky’s order. “Don’t touch.”
Bucky slowly lowers Rob’s feet to the floor, keeping a careful eye on him. His eyes narrow a split second before Rob bellows, “motherfucker!”
The asshole rears back and punches Bucky clean in the jaw.
You gaps in horrified shock, but Bucky grins, his tongue peeking out to test his lip and you can’t help how your eyes linger there.
“You threw the first punch shithead,” Bucky says before winding back and punching Rob in the gut.
All the guys now rush toward their friend, muttering curses at him as they drag him to his feet and eye Bucky warily.
The owner of the bar, and your boss, Barry, comes over and gets in their faces. “Get out and don’t come back!”
They drag their belligerent friend out as quickly as they can, apologizing to you, or maybe Bucky, the whole way.
“What just happened?” you ask, your voice quiet.
Bucky steps close to you, his knuckles brushing over your cheek, light as a feather.
“Are you okay?”
His eyes are filled with emotions. Worry, fury, fear, and tenderness.
“I think so. That was just…crazy.”
Nat wraps her arm around your shoulders comfortingly. “Let’s go get Bucky some ice, ok?”
You glance down at Bucky’s hand, puffy and red.
“Oh no,” you say, gently taking his hand in yours.
He smiles. “It’s fine. Been there, done that.”
You watch him go back and sit at the bar, most of the other customers now cleared out. When you come back out with the ice and ointment your gentle, “you okay?” pulls him from his musings.
“Yeah, no big deal. As long as you’re okay?”
You sit next to him, resting his hand on your thigh and carefully pressing the ice to his knuckles. He stares at his hand on your skin.
“I don’t know if okay is how I would describe how I’m feeling right now…that was…”
Your words trail off when you can’t find a suitable label for the last ten minutes.
“Sexy?” he suggests, deadpan.
Your jaw drops open in offense.
“What? NO!”
He breaks and his lips spread wide in a grin.
You deflate and bump his shoulder, not trying to hide your own smile.
“Seriously though,” you say, shaking your head. “You didn’t have to…why did you do that?”
He looks at you evenly, his voice soft. “Look I’m not some crazy guy who goes around lookin’ to beat people up doll face. But you shouldn’t have to put up with shit like that. I’m sure that wasn’t the first time that piece of shit has pulled a stunt like that, but hopefully next time, he’ll have some decency and sense before laying hands on a woman without an explicit invitation.”
“Well in that case…that’s pretty nice.”
He scoffs with a lopsided smile and his eyes drop to your lips; his hand still pressed to your thigh. His head tilts and he leans in slightly, watching your lips part. He curls his fingers around your thigh but winces at the pull on his knuckles.
You see it and pull back, looking down at his hand.
“Let me get you fixed up.”
Once you have him bandaged up he whispers, “thanks,” still staring at his hand held in yours.
“You ready to go, or do you need to close up first?”
His question is light.
“Go where?”
“Out with me. Ice cream? A walk? Anything you want.”
“It’s the middle of the night. I’m not going anywhere but home.”
“Or we could go to the twenty-four-hour deli on the corner and get ice cream sandwiches then I’ll take you to the roof of my building and we can watch the sunrise.”
Your light touch traces along the calluses on his fingertips.
“Are you usually this friendly to everyone who is new to the neighborhood?” you ask behind a sly smile.
“Not at all doll. Only for you. You’re special.”
Your jaw goes rigid and your eyes narrow. “You can stop whatever game you’re playing.”
You pull back, releasing his hand and starting to put the first aid kit back together.
“What just happened? I’m not playing games,” he says, keeping his voice steady. “But I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”
“It’s fine. I need to go help Nat close up.”
You stand and walk to the door, your head held high. He’s not going to fool you with his sweet words.
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The next evening is slow so you spend most of it helping Nat stock the bar and clean. The hours pass by and nothing exciting happens letting your thoughts wander to Bucky. Then, as if on cue, the door opens, and you automatically look over to see who the latest customer is.
Bucky fills the doorway.
Your breath hitches and you can’t look away. He’s more dressed up tonight. A dark button down opened at the collar and dark jeans that are tight across his thick thighs.
You can’t help but think he’s here to meet someone for a date. The jealousy that surges through you is surprising and infuriating. That is, until he walks up to the bar and sits down. Right in front of you.
“Hey, doll.”
“Hey, Bucky.”
“What can I get you?” you start. “Or are you waiting for someone?”
“Yep,” he says, popping the p. “What time’s your break?”
“Oh,” you breath out. “Um…I don’t really get a long one…”
You start to wipe down the bar aimlessly, remaining quiet while you wait. You can feel him watching you, his eyes tracking your every movement.
He calls over Nat and asks, “can I get two of the special for tonight, please?”
He’s speaking to Nat but looking at you, daring you to disagree.
When you stay quiet, the corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly, victory lighting up his eyes.
“If you want to take it to-go for later, that’s fine. But I thought it’d be nice to have dinner together and figured ya wouldn’t want to go out with me after I fucked up last night.”
“So dinner while I’m supposed to be working is a better option?” you shoot back.
He cringes, despite the lack of heat in your accusation then sighs defeatedly.
“I’m trying here. I want to get to know you better. I promise my intentions are good.”
You stare, getting lost in his beautiful eyes before you scan the rest of his face. He seems more vulnerable now and you want to believe him.
Nat comes back with two plates of steaming food and sets them down.
You give in and unwrap the silverware, digging into a bite of baked potato.
“Mmm,” you moan around the taste.
He freezes with his own bite halfway to his mouth, and mutters under his breath. “Are you trying to kill me?”
You fall into easy conversation about what he does for work, how you like living in the city and everything in between.
After you explain why you moved, spilling the truth between bites, he replies with, “I’m glad you picked Brooklyn.”
His fingers slide over yours and the touch is full of heat. His eyes follow the movement and his jaw tightens. He threads his fingers through yours, holding your hand across the bar.
When he meets your eyes, his are hooded and dark. “How about that ice cream tonight with a roof top view doll?”
The ‘yes’ is on the tip of your tongue as your body leans over the bar, but then you remember that you want more than just a fling and even though he said his intentions are good you can’t help but wonder why a guy like him is still single. You’re not looking for a fling.
You untangle your fingers from his, pulling back.
“Thank you, Bucky. Really. But…”
He nods, not letting you finish before he reaches into his back pocket and sets down some cash to cover the dinners.
“See ya soon doll.”
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The bar is closed on Mondays but Tuesday has you running beers up and down the bar for game night. Bucky’s back. Same time, same seat.
“You need a break doll? Something to eat?” Bucky asks before he takes a sip of beer.
He sets it down as he waits for your answer, studying you intently.
You grab a French fry from his plate and wave it around before bringing it to your lips. He grins wolfishly, catching your wrist in his hand and before you know what’s happening, he’s snagged the fry from between your fingers with his teeth. His tongue snakes out to the lick the salt from your fingertips, then he chews with a self-satisfied smile.
“I’ll let you have the rest,” he says, holding one up to your lips.
You tentatively lean forward, watching him warily in case he tries to pull it away, then chomp down.
“Just let me know when you want more,” he croons.
You continue to work, constantly aware of Bucky and the way he never takes his eyes off you. You check on him regularly, engaging in some deep conversation even with the little time you have.
As your shift nears its end he calls you over.
“Ice cream and rooftop tonight?” he asks, setting money down on the bar to pay for his food and drinks.
“I can’t tonight.”
He smiles. “No worries doll face. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
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The next night comes quickly, your tired feet aching from marching back and forth between the bar and the pool tables since it’s half price games tonight.
It’s getting late, and despite your best efforts, you can’t help but wonder where Bucky is. Maybe the last time you turned him down was the final straw. You feel a deep twinge of disappointment at the idea.
The door opens, and you look over, your eyes filled with hope, but it’s just some random couple.
You’re stomach grumbles and you realize you’ve had dinner with Bucky the last few nights and now that it’s late and he hasn’t shown you haven’t eaten.
Checking that everyone has full glasses you wipe your hands and head for the kitchen, hoping to snag something to eat.
The chef, Suzanne, greets you warmly. You ask her for a bowl of the soup and she hums in agreement, yelling out for Charlie.
A guy you’ve never seen before pops around the corner.
“Hey, I’m Charlie, the sometimes kitchen help,” he explains holding out his hand.
“Nice to meet you Charlie.”
You give him your name and tell him you’re the new bartender.
His face changes instantly, eyes going wide and his brows shooting up to his hairline. He pulls his hand back quickly.
He’s still smiling but he seems guarded all of a sudden.
“You forgot to mention the most important part…Bucky’s girl.”
“What?” you say incredulously. “I’m not Bucky’s girl! We’re just friends. He just stops by for dinner and a drink!”
You know it’s more than that. Charlie nods like he knows it’s more than that.
“Sure, whatever you say. But no offense, I’m gonna take his word for it. I’ve never seen him do anything like this before. It has the whole neighborhood talkin’.”
With that he disappears, only reappearing a few moments later with your soup, then he runs off again.
You inhale the soup, not wanting to leave Nat alone and rush back to the bar to check the drink orders.
Nat slides up next to you. “Those drinks for table six?”
You don’t answer her, instead filling her in on what happened in the kitchen.
“Charlie said I’m ‘Bucky’s girl.’ I’m not his girl. What does that even mean?”
“Aw that’s sweet! He’s never said anything like that before and I would know. Been living here my whole life.”
“No it’s not!”
“I think it’s sorta romantic,” she says wistfully. “He’s all in, claiming you far and wide when you haven’t even realized what’s right in front of your face!”
She punctuates the last words of her sentence as she stares you down.
“What’s right in front of my face?” you ask, unwilling to concede that it might be the tiniest bit sweet…in a cave man sort of way.
“He’s here,” Nat whispers, but it’s more of squeal.
You turn toward the door, your whole face lighting up even though you’re still mad at the claim he made. The door is closed, Bucky no where in sight.
Nat’s finger is suddenly in your face. “That! You want to see him. You like him coming here to see you too. Shit, when was the last time someone made this much of an effort for a date!”
She throws her hands up! “Just go out with the man!”
“You mean have sex with him?” you bite out, not forgetting about her earlier warnings.
“Either or, maybe both! What could it hurt?”
“Me!” you say defensively.
Nat’s expression softens. “I think maybe I gave you the wrong idea about him…” she fumbles. “What I really mean is I think maybe we all had the wrong idea about him.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugs with a heavy sigh. “Bucky is man. A hot as fuck man,” she teases. “And he does have a reputation…but only because everyone wishes they could get a piece of him. I really don’t remember the last girl he went out with. So either he’s really quiet about it, but if you haven’t noticed in this neighborhood everyone is up everyone else’s ass, or he hasn’t really dated.”
Nat eyes you carefully, curiously.
“Oh shit,” you mumble, laying your face in your hands. “I do want to go out with him, but I’m scared…have you seen him?”
Nat grins. “Oh yes. I have and…”
“He’s gorgeous. Like drop dead gorgeous,” you finish for her.
“Exactly,” she agrees happily, a dreamy look on her face.
You swat at her shoulder, getting her attention and gesturing to yourself.
“What? You look amazing!” she says. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen you at work before.”
“You don’t think is just a thing because I’m the new girl in the neighborhood?”
“Do people do things like that where you’re from?” she asks. “And no!” she finishes, shaking her head.
Just as her words sink in your heart sinks with them.
“Doesn’t matter anyway. I blew it, he’s not here tonight.”
“Yes he is.”
The door opens and when you look over, it’s him.
Finally!
The air charges across the space between you and you know something has changed and when his eyes meet yours it’s almost as if he knows it too. He nods toward the door, silently asking if you’re ready for that date.
“Hey Nat, you think if I ask Barry to let me off early…”
“I swear if he says no I’ll kick him in the balls myself,” Nat screeches.
You rush back to the office and find Barry sitting behind his desk. Your question rushes out and he holds up a hand to stop you before you even finish.
“Go,” is all he says, but the smile he gives you reaches his eyes.
You cross the room to Bucky, his eyes wandering over you with possessive heat and unguarded want.
When you’re standing right in front of him, your toes touching, he asks, “you ready?”
Your lips lift ever so slightly and when his large hand cups your cheek your eyelashes flutter closed. His motions are slow, teasingly so, but he’s giving you time to stop him. He bends down, letting his intentions be quite clear.
He kisses the corner of your mouth then brushes his lips over yours, so lightly, you can feel his breath. You sigh into him and his hands slide over your curves and down to your waist, his grip tightening.
Nat let’s out a cheer, effectively interrupting the moment but you can’t help but smile at her excitement.
Bucky doesn’t let go of you, his hand sliding into yours as he pulls you out the door and onto the street.
“Hey,” he says soothingly.
“Hi,” you say, tucking your chin.
His fingers press under and he lifts your eyes. “You good?”
He waits patiently for you to formulate a reply.
“I just…I’m not sure…what you expect.”
“Anything, doll. I want to know you, spend time with you.”
Dropping his voice lower and bringing his lips to the shell of your ear, he whispers, “kiss you again…for real this time.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Okay,” he agrees, his voice heavy with intention as he takes you in his arms again and drags you into his chest.
Your lips meet, tender and soft at first but as your fingers dance up his arms and grip his biceps, he growls and takes it deeper.
You moan into his mouth, working your hands higher into the hair that brushes his shoulders.
“Fuck,” he groans when he feels you give his hair a little tug.
He pulls back and you chase him for one last kiss which he happily obliges in.
“I promised you ice cream and a roof top sunrise,” he murmurs. “And I keep my promises doll.”
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@book-dragon-13  @sebstanwhore @late-to-the-party-81 @goldylions @laineyreads @randomfandompenguin @lookiamtrying @beccablogsthings @justkinsey @hallecarey1 @blackwidownat2814 @flordeamatista @buckysdollforlife​
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azullumi · 4 months
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“grocery shopping” ; genshin men
summary — a certain notion appears inside your mind, like a lightbulb on top of your head as if you were having an eureka moment when in fact, you weren’t. it was just a silly idea in which you are curious to know the answer to. alternatively, just your average grocery shopping with him with a little twist and that being placing every item that you see into the cart.
includes — various genshin men (w/gender-neutral reader)
tags — fluff, established relationship, a sprinkle of domestic, set in a modern setting ; headcanons
words — 1215
note — honestly this is just me and my mom whenever we go out for groceries (i always put everything that i see in the cart) ; this is the first time i’ve written after so long, aside from those stupid essays i have to do for school
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;; Will let you be, however, he will put some of the items back
He doesn’t show an ounce of care and will just let you have your fun, for now. Because yeah, sure, you can add that box of mugs that are identical to the ones you have at home, dear, but that doesn’t mean you’ll see it getting packed into the grocery bags; Oh, that ladle set sure does look nice (you won’t see it in your place ever). He’ll let you indulge in your pleasures and won’t deny you of it, however, so much can only one do in this economy and some of the things that you are putting in is exceeding that. He’ll put some of the things back whenever you are not looking, trying not to get noticed. Perhaps you won’t notice it at first when a few things are missing and somehow, the cart doesn’t seem to get full no matter how many you are adding to it. He’ll act so innocent and naive when you ask him about it, however, smiling at you softly and asking you what you are talking about. He’ll only tell you of it once you’re on your way back with the bags, expressing an apology that he has to remove some of the things in the cart that you added and you two will get it again next time.
Thoma, Baizhu, Tighnari, Venti
;; Will get another cart
Oh no, dear, the cart is full already? You just have to wait there and he’ll get another one for you, so for the meantime, you can scope and look out for other items that you want to get. One word, supportive. Or maybe he just loves to spoil you a lot. Either way, he clearly lets you do whatever you want; he’s a little bit of an enabler, perhaps. The weight of the groceries is nothing compared to the affection he has for you. You don’t even have to look at the price either—he advises you not to do so because that’s not really a concern (for him, atleast). Really, he loves you a lot to the point that he is willing to just watch you as he pushes the quite heavy cart and carries a basket like how you would carry a bag with just your arm (need yourself a man who’ll willingly push the cart for you and follow you around). He doesn’t mind it, it’s only one of the many things that he’ll do for you. There’s just one thing, however. You don’t know what you’re going to do with the pile of things you got so before paying it on the counter, you’ll have to return many of them.
Ayato, Pantalone, Diluc, Childe
;; Will be silent and confused but will let you be
At first, it starts off just like how it usually would: you grab some of the things that you need and want then place it in the cart as you two walk around the store and he simply lets you do as you want, just like your normal day of grocery shopping with him. Until several items were placed into the cart later and he had to question himself, why? Are those needed? What would you need a new blender for when there is a completely functional and working one at your home? He’s visibly confused but he will simply let you be because how could he stop you when you’re clearly enjoying whatever you are doing and he adores watching you in such light—you, simply, just walking and being with him has him falling head over heels for you. In lieu of that, it’s probably the reason why he’ll let you get away with doing some things including whatever you are doing (but that doesn’t mean he won’t be having any questions). Oh, how long the receipt will be. He will have to stop you as soon as the cart gets full and there is no more room for other important items, however. I mean, come on, there are more knives and cups there than there are for eggs and milk together.
Diluc, Zhongli, Xiao, Alhaitham
;; Will question every item you’ll put in
Is that really necessary? What’s that? Do you want it? He’s quite verbal on what is happening, becoming (your) voice of reason on this whimsical notion. His reaction is a mix of everything, he’ll let you add whatever you want but at the same time, he’ll place some of it back and would’ve stopped you from adding a few—perhaps he’ll also express his confusion, but never will there be annoyance: “Where are you going to use that for?” He’ll act more like a mother asking their child what in the world are they adding into the cart, just without the scolding part and telling you how it is expensive and you’re not the one paying for everything. He doesn’t mind you placing many things as long as they are essential and of necessity. He’ll let in a few of your wants here and there but not so much that it will consume half of the space of the cart. He’s more on the rational side of things, keeping you grounded to reality and that reality being the costs, the amount of things you’ll have to carry on the way back, and where you will even place some of those products that you completely don’t need.
Wanderer/Scaramouche, Cyno, Xiao, Kaveh
;; Will join you in adding those random things
All became a game of fun with him just as quick as you placed that one vase in the cart. Well, everything feels like a game with him even if it’s as simple as who’ll finish their food first. It’s silly, if you are going to be honest. You two were acting like children whose both of their parents lost sight of them at the store and are now running around the place, each with their own cart of their own (random) items. The competition? Who fills their cart first is the winner (with no duplicate items). Whenever you two would have an accidental encounter, you would check each other’s cart and see who has more then proceed to tease one another of who is the winner. However, the reality of the situation dawns over you two when you remember that you have to bring these things to the counter and pay for it—and the fact that you have to return, if not all, most of the items back to their proper places. By then, you two would have to start over the grocery shopping adventure again but this time, only with what is completely necessary in your cart. You’ll still have your own fun with him in this busy place, nonetheless.
Itto, Childe, Heizhou
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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hezzabeth · 5 months
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"For the last time, that poem isn't romantic! It's insulting," Revati yelled over her shoulder as she began to pedal.
The layout of Olde Landon had been deliberately designed to keep tourists inside for as long as possible. There was only one way to access the front gates, and that involved defeating the Queen of Hearts' hedge maze. When the park was still open, tourists would be forced to spend at least an hour in the maze, stumbling upon tiny toy shops and food stands around every corner. The same thing occurred when they left, resulting in a very rich park and bankrupt guests. Now the maze was overgrown and easy enough to navigate.
Revati pedaled past the cart that once sold her heart-shaped sunglasses. Then she turned left, almost crashing into the wall of roses. The wall of roses stared back at her, their red blooms heavy and suspicious. Thanks to Bridgadeiro, she knew they were probably secretly insulting her.
The next turn consisted of an old stardust popcorn stand. Revati skidded to a stop and inspected the inside tray, where a few ancient kernels lay. Carefully, she picked up several of them and placed them in her jacket pocket. As far as she could tell, the kernels were seeds. Someone was shifting around the corner, causing the branches to shake.
"Aurora, is that you? Did you go ahead of me?" Revati yelled.
"While conferring in the labyrinth where false preachers reeked of death, the monster began to growl," a voice called from around the corner. An unfamiliar, flat female voice. Raiders. Raiders were, of course, an occupational hazard in any post-apocalyptic settlement. Normally, they never made it further than the broken glass pit at the park's gates. Sometimes Dityaa would bring one in, insisting they were "lovely," which always led to awkward dinners.
Revati slowly walked around the maze corner. There was a screeching metallic sound, and the weapon fell from Revati's hand. An android was slumped over on the ground. Once it would have been golden, but now it was rusty and covered in mud. Someone had ripped its legs off, leaving nothing but wires and tubes spitting bright blue fluid. Instead of a torso, there was a black empty hole with a concave door swinging on its bent hinges.
"And in the forgotten twists, footsteps quicken, hearts beat, and teeth are bared," the android chirped, its voice still distorted and far away. The android's face was a beautiful mask. Still-carved eyes. Unmoving sweet lips.
Revati powered up her solar gun and slowly walked forward, aiming it at the android. The android's metal eyes scraped in their sockets, turning towards her.
“Is that you? My darling Perdita?” The android’s voice whispered, the lips unmoving. The whispering voice had a posh lilt to its accent. Revati refused to answer. It was best to never engage with AI.
“Perdita, I clawed my way in! They know about you; the spider knows,” the android whispered before collapsing completely.
Revati slowly walked forward, still holding her weapon. With one foot, she kicked the android. It didn’t move. Its power had definitely died.
“Spider? Is that some sort of gang?” Revati whispered to herself. Gangs were always given stupid names.
“The spider is us; the spider is legion,” a flat robotic voice called out, and Revati spun around.
Queen Victoria was standing behind her, scorch marks all over her dress. A faint blue glow was erupting from beneath the skin of Queen Victoria’s chest.
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justporo · 4 months
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Shooting Stars
A night of star showers is imminent in Baldur's Gate. You couldn't think of a better way to spend it but with Astarion and a sparkling glass of champagne in your hand - and lots of teasing banter- until the first star comes shooting. Because of course: there are wishes to be made and hopefully to be fulfilled.
MASTERLIST | AO3
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Author's Note: Time to cook of the 2024 season! I originally wanted to use this for the Winter Challenge as well but eh, I rather wanted to take my time (and I'm happy about it - I'm only getting back in the saddle with writing now, break was very much needed). So have this piece of fluff, that is hopefully something for the soul to kick of this year of writing! This wonderful artwork was done by the lovely @britonell (thank you so much!).
Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)
Warnings: none, just tooth-rotting fluff
Wordcount: 2,9k
Song: All This And Heaven Too - Florence + The Machine
~~~
“Shit, I think I ripped one of my stockings”, you cursed while you rearranged your seat at the edge of the roof. Astarion relaxedly sitting beside you clicked his tongue and looked judgingly at you - but you knew he was only teasing. The sparkle in his ruby eyes spoke of nothing but affection and admiration as he looked at you and then towards the glittering night sky.
Tonight a shower of shooting stars was supposed to happen. The whole city had been raving about it for days since astronomers had shared the news of the upcoming celestial event. Probably every one who could afford so would be out and about to catch a glimpse of some of nature's magic. And of course - as was custom - to make some wishes and hope for the falling stars to kindly fulfil them.
Some of the stars on the firmament were twinkling already, as if they were shimmying, getting ready to fall out of their sockets and travel across the night sky. To grace all beings below them with their fleeting beauty.
Never had you seen something like this and you had been brimming with excitement from the first moment you had heard about it. You wouldn't want to miss it for the world.
When you had asked Astarion if he wanted to watch the star showers with you he had lifted one eyebrow and given you a kind of condescending if playful smile. Then, when he had answered his voice had dripped with sarcasm: “Oh darling, why would we need to watch some beautiful fallen stars when I already have one right in front of me.”
You had almost barfed onto his feet. Astarion had looked offended.
Then you had lost it so hard laughing that your vampire had needed to hold you up by your elbows so as to not let you slide onto the ground while you suffered from your hysteric fit.
“Astarion, love, you already have me - you can scrap the cheesy lines - please?”, you had pressed out through laughter and buried your face in his chest while Astarion had pouted a bit more about your snide remarks regarding his flirting techniques.
Of course, he hadn’t stopped. In fact, he’d made it a game over the next couple of days to come up with even much worse lines while you always desperately tried to keep it together.
“But darling, all my wishes have come true already with you by my side.”
“Love, I believe the night's cancelled. All stars are already in your eyes.”
“Oh, my heart, I’ve already fallen hard for you, why would you need another star?”
They got progressively worse the longer he kept going - and incredibly less inventive.
But of course you were still swooning on the inside, at least a little. Because after all, how couldn't you? Knowing that Astarion was indeed in love with you and that he really meant his words. Well, once you scraped all the gooey honey off it. What lay beneath was very sweet and much less sickening.
This game of his had gone on for several days until the night had finally arrived - and until even Astarion had almost run out of stupid pick-up lines.
The both of you had decided to dress up, just for the hell of it. This being one of the things you had adopted quickly from Astarion: indulging yourself, taking care of yourself and dressing for yourself - and for him of course, because you could never get enough of the stunned looks he threw you.
You were in a dress that Astarion had gifted you some time back and that was embroidered by the man himself. And the vampire in a finely stitched doublet that made him look positively regal and smoking. There was a fair amount of staring happening from both sides, hopefully not distracting from the actual event later on.
Then with lots of giggles from your side and terrible cursing from Astarion you had climbed onto the roof of your little Baldurian townhouse. This man could never do anything without commenting on it. When you had pointed out as much, he had narrowed his eyes at you and looked tempted to drag you down the small ladder again that led up to the roof. But you had swiftly moved out of his reach with a cackle - not without also making sure to give him a good view of your behind first by deliberately swishing open the slit in your skirt.
Carefully, you had scattered towards the edge over the old shingles then, until you could carefully settle down.
Obviously not carefully enough though since you feared that the delicate sheer fabric covering your slender legs might have been torn on a sharp edge when you had sat down. But it didn’t really matter. Astarion had already promised he’d rip these stockings off you (together with the set of naughty underwear you’d chosen specifically for him) with his teeth later in the night. Really, you were just presenting an opening for your eager lover.
With another curse under his breath, the vampire sat down beside you although he did so elegantly and immediately evoked the image of a lounging cat. The grace of the rogue really was unmatched.
You leaned back on your hands and angled one leg, putting it up on the edge while the other dangled over thin air. Astarion almost mirrored you with the way he seemed to sit comfortably there, leaning back, legs slightly spread and hanging over the edge while he observed the glittering night sky.
“Love, that’s no way to sit for a lady”, Astarion teased you with a promising grin while he eyed your angled leg, clad in nothing but a gauzy stocking, adorned with a delicate lace rim at the very top of your thigh - which was almost completely on display for him.
You angled your head at him and swayed your leg a little so the slit allowed for an even better view of your leg - careful to only tease for later.
“Good thing I am not a lady then”, you replied to your vampire, tongue in cheek.
“Oh yes, my love, it’s for the best. The way I’d single handedly ruin your reputation later tonight would be scandalous,” Astarion replied while he devoured you with his eyes from under his brows. In his head you could bet he was already letting his teeth graze over the delicate skin of your inner thigh. Oh, it would be a night to behold.
You laughed softly, throwing your head back. But then you let your leg softly fall onto the other, giving at least the illusion of decency again.
You grinned at the vampire, the vampire grinned back with promise.
Nothing would ever come close to this, to being with him: the playful banter, the easy companionship, the intense intimacy. You hummed contentedly while you slowly ripped your loving gaze of Astarion and let it wander over your surroundings.
Below you the streets of the Upper City seemed to fill up with the whole population of Baldur’s Gate. Of course everyone wanted the best sight of the night sky - and Upper just had the best spots. And what a good thing that you still had the vantage point even with all those people trying to find a neat stargazing spot.
Idle chatter drifted up towards you. People had brought food and drinks and a continuous hum of anticipation filled the cold night air, but you barely even noticed. For you there was merely your soulmate and you up on the roof of your home.
Behind you you had two crystal glasses waiting to be filled with some bubbling champagne Astarion had insisted upon. “If you’re going to make me sit up on some godsforsaken rooftop during wintertime only to crane your neck at the night sky you can look up at every night, I might as well bring a drink”, he’d said and rolled his eyes while he had grabbed not one, but two of the expensive bottles. You had simply shrugged - you wouldn’t say no if drinks were involved. And since you had figured out that it had been nearly half a year already since most everything had been dealt with, you felt it was only appropriate to celebrate this fact with a drink.
The vampire had whole-heartedly agreed when you had told him your observation. Astarion, of course, had been very well aware of that even before. He hadn’t stopped counting the days since his life had taken a turn for the better and, perhaps, he never would.
Up on the roof the rogue now procured his dagger, threw it up to flip it artfully and only then - when he was sure that he had your full attention - he took the first bottle with a sly grin. And then, in his histrionic manner, he swished the sharp blade up along the curve of the bottle neck and cleanly took off the head along with the cork.
Champagne immediately started foaming out of the bottle and Astarion was quick to grab the crystal glasses, both in one hand, and elegantly pour you each a glass of sparkling wine.
Somewhere below you heard someone yelp - apparently Astarion had unconsciously managed to hit someone with his display of skill. You looked down and saw an older gentleman rub the back of his head and turn towards you.
Quickly grabbing Astarion’s arm to make him pull back with you, you dragged up your legs with a giggle, hoping you could hide from the unwilling target. The vampire grinned broadly at you while he kept pouring - that little rascal.
You had to be honest though that you’d been quite impressed with the display of this dextrous if wholly unnecessary talent. It was after all very fitting for the flamboyant elf. But your adoration must have shown because the vampire was grinning proudly at you as he handed you a glass.
Time to get his ego in check again before it became too massive.
“Where’d you learn that?”, you asked after you had clinked glasses with him. “Rich prick academy?”
Astarion almost snorted into the glass he’d been taking a sip from. He recovered quickly though. “Not my fault they taught you neither that nor manners, you insolent little thing.” He clicked his tongue and took another sip of bubbly.
You waited until he had lifted up the drink filled flute to slap his arm.
His drink sloshed, some spilling onto him.
The look of that combined with too much force you had used to get back at him almost made you lose your balance. You screeched, gripping your glass as if it could stop you from falling.
But thankfully Astarion quickly grabbed your wrist with roguish reflexes, pulling you back and thus prohibiting you from falling off.
Your heart was racing from the sudden rush of adrenaline. The vampire was only laughing as you recovered from your self-inflicted fright. And you hadn’t even drunk a single drop of alcohol yet. So you made to catch up and lifted the crystal to your lips.
“Darling, don’t break your back falling off this rooftop, yes?” Astarion said, choosing this exact moment to break the silence again. “I have way better options to achieve that if you should insist upon it, my heart.”
You choked on the prickling drink and started coughing. Immediately, you were almost ready to push that bastard again, risking falling off once more. Astarion in the meantime smirked smugly at you while drinking his champagne in peace now.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time”, you croaked pathetically after barely being able to talk again. Somehow you seemed to draw the short end of the stick fairly often when it came to trying to out-sass the pale elf. But he had more than 200 years on you with that - give or take. You’d get back at him one of those days.
The bickering went on for some more back and forth until you had each downed your first glass, then a second while you were both laughing profusely and you started to feel the alcohol make your mind a little hazy.
Astarion refilled the glasses once more and you just kept talking - about everything and nothing. It was always so easy to just spend time with each other. It almost felt like you had been together a whole eternity already, in the best way imaginable.
“So, what are you wishing for?”, you asked Astarion emboldened by the alcohol while you were working on emptying your next glass of champagne.
The vampire inclined his head towards you and softly shook his head in disappointment: “Love, have they truly taught you nothing? You’re not supposed to tell or it won’t come true!” He softly clicked his tongue while you stuck out yours towards him. You kept looking at him in anticipation - but he was firm on not losing a word on the matter.
After a while you gave up with a dramatic sigh and gulped down the rest of liquid in your glass. Neither pouting at him, bribing him or even offering another glance of your precariously clothed legs seemed to work.
You though knew exactly what things you’d be wishing for: for him and you to be happy - that was the most important thing, to find a way to allow Astarion to walk in the sun again, a long and happy life for all your friends you hadn’t seen in a while now, to have things stay like this forever or at least to be able to always come back to moments like these.
You really deeply hoped this would stay with you: the unconditional love, the deep trust, the easiness with which the two of you spent your days and nights now with each other.
Some time ago you had feared that once the permanent tension of your adventuring days was over there wouldn’t be much left for you. That Astarion would just realise that you were barely more than a former street kid and thief - and pretty much boring beyond that.
But it hadn’t been like that. Quite the opposite: every day seemed to make the vampire fall harder for you. And you knew that was surely true from your side. It was like every time you looked at him another small piece of your heart was permanently handed to the vampire who you trusted fully to handle it gently. And perhaps the same was true for Astarion’s undead and unbeating heart in his chest.
You kept gazing at him and enjoyed just listening to him talk beside you while you sipped on your drink. The wind was drifting through both your hair, pulling some light strands of your hair with it while it merely tugged softly on the rogue’s curls. His side profile was sharply illuminated by silver moon light, pronouncing his straight nose, sharp cheekbones. And not to forget his ruby red eyes that always caught when you were staring at him and then sparkled in delight.
You could just spend eternity with moments like these.
Astarion was currently telling you about a book of poetry he was reading at the moment, looking up at the moon and the stars with a slight smile on his lips when a murmur started to move through the crowd below you.
Both of your ears perked up a little as the people became louder. And then when someone even screeched and you saw someone pointing up at the night sky as you leaned forward you realised what it must mean: shooting stars.
Your head snapped up and you caught a movement out of the corner of your eye, just the disappearing tail of a star racing across the darkness. With a gasp you grabbed Astarion’s shoulder without looking to get his attention. The vampire immediately complained but was silenced when another falling star shot across the sky - this time clearly visible for both of you.
The people below were buzzing in excitement now, loud “oohs” and “aaahs” were heard in the chill winter night as the stars become more and more frequent until bright white curves of sparkles were drawn across the sky every few seconds.
Your eyes widened as you beheld the wondrous event in front of you, completely entranced by what was happening. Truly a magic that was unmatched in beauty, a spell woven over everyone that was lucky enough to catch sight of it even for only a moment.
The vampire observed the falling stars with you for a long while before he slowly turned to you.
Astarion looked at you, still fully smitten by stars falling from the sky, eyes wide and shining, lips parted slightly.. He drank it all in: the wonder in your eyes, your beautiful face, the love. You see the latter reflected on his face when your gaze flicked to the vampire and back up to the sky to not miss a single star.
But Astarion’s gaze kept lingering upon you. Not wanting to ever forget even the most miniscule of details of this moment while sparks of light kept dancing over your face and your ever broadening smile.
He hadn’t lied, calling you his star.
Because his biggest wish, although always unspoken, had already been fulfilled.
Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna
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devvelle · 1 year
Text
All Mine
Genre: fluff
Characters: dorm leaders (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, and Malleus) x gn!reader
Scenario: what makes your boyfriend jealous and what he does about it <3
Notes: none!
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Riddle Rosehearts ; when you're having fun with someone else.
Even as your boyfriend, Riddle can’t do things with you that would go against the dorm rules or hurt his image—which you totally understand. But when he sees you laughing with someone else, doing things he can't partake in... it makes him really jealous.
Eventually, once it gets to him, he really won't want you hanging out with those people anymore.
He knows they probably aren’t being bad influences, but he will act like they are. He'll give them unimpressed stares when you're not looking, and if they're in his dorm he’ll use his unique magic against them to keep them away from you.
When you two are in private, he'll try let loose more. It’ll feel unnatural for him, but he wants to have fun with you, too. He’s afraid you’ll get bored of him.
If you play along for his sake and try to bring him out of his shell, he'll appreciate it. He might even be honest about his feelings once he’s comfortable telling you the truth.
But if you tell him that he doesn’t need to change for you, he'll get really shy. He'll deny feeling jealous, but reassurance of your love would mean a lot to him in the moment.
Ultimately, he just wants to be the one making you smile the most.
“As long as you’re sure you’re happy… Yes, I love you too.”
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Leona Kingscholar ; when he sees others trying to take care of you.
Leona is a gentleman. Maybe everyone else has trouble believing so, but he's incredibly attentive once you're together. He escorts you places, buys you things you need, and comforts you when need be.
But if he happens to see someone else trying to do any of that for you, he will not be happy. He sees it as disrespectful, like they're trying to tell him he isn't doing a good enough job. To make it worse, you’re too kind to refuse these gestures from others, which sets his jealousy off.
With his temper, you will know immediately. Leona doesn't like to play games. He will tell you what’s bothering him and ask why you’re entertaining that behavior when he's right there. If you can’t give him an answer, he’ll stick himself to you like glue and won’t let anyone else near you for the day.
Assigns Ruggie to the very important task of keeping tabs on you afterward. Gives him specific instructions to monitor your conversations; if you’re talking to anyone for too long or if they try to do something for you, Ruggie is to interrupt and say you’ve been summoned by Leona.
Mandatory cuddles and telling him you love him is your punishment. He hates feeling jealous.
"You know what you signed up for with me. Now, come here. You’re mine."
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Azul Ashengrotto ; when he becomes aware of the options you have.
Seeing how popular you are among the student body makes Azul particularly jealous.
You’re friends with so many others within the walls of Night Raven College; dozens of boys with promising futures make up your circle, including several princes, and all are just one call away from coming to your aid should you ask. So it’s a bit hard for him to not feel jealous when they don't seem to back off even after you announce your relationship.
He’ll wait it out at first, but if they don’t leave you alone he’ll be really ticked off. However, Azul is aware that he isn’t particularly intimidating and can’t fight.
So what does he do? He shows you off instead, to prove to them that you're his.
If he wasn't using Magicam before, now he's posting you every day. He's posting pictures of you with new jewelry he's bought you and images of you cuddled up to him at night, even linking sweet love songs to them.
When he checks his views and finds the individuals that triggered his jealousy, his satisfaction in through the roof. Don’t question his smirk.
If, for some reason, flaunting you on social media isn’t enough, then Azul might have Floyd give your friends a scare. Nothing serious, just enough to make them delete your number and change their routes to class to avoid you. You wont even notice since Azul is now escorting you to class on his arm.
"Do you not want me to show you off? I don't see a problem with reminding everyone who you chose."
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Kalim Al-Asim ; when you might be taken away.
Kalim trusts you so much, so he just doesn’t get jealous. Your relationship is so healthy and communication between you is great.
The only time he'd maybe feel jealousy would be if someone planted the idea in his head. Like if Jamil makes a joke about you and someone you're with looking quite close, Kalim might start questioning the situation.
However, he'd be more concerned for your safety than jealous. He'd approach you and drag you away in a rush with an innocent excuse to the other individual. After all, if they're trying to charm you while knowing you’re in a relationship, they have to be bad news.
He'd talk to you about it immediately, though, before any of his thoughts spiral and before you can think he’s overreacting.
Would go heavier on the PDA to remind you he trusts and cares for you. To some extent, he might be thinking he can gross that person out this way so they’ll get the hint and give it up.
Kalim is just too sweet of a guy to feel jealous honestly. There’s not much else to say. He’ll make you feel so safe.
"Just wanted to make sure you were okay! I think we should steer clear of them for now, yeah?"
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Vil Schoenheit ; when you don't see what he sees.
Vil gets annoyed easily, definitely. But it would either take something truly concerning or the involvement of someone he deems a threat to make him feel jealousy.
He often acts like he knows what's best for you, so he tells you to stay away from certain classmates. Especially the ones that he sees being a bit too kind to you.
If you dismiss Vil’s concerns and the individuals get bolder with you to spite him, he’ll be pissed. Honestly, if he didn’t have contractual obligations and a reputation to maintain, he might resort to threats.
If it goes on for long enough, he’ll start feeling jealous.
The result is a super petty Vil.
If you want to spend time with him, he'll redirect you to one of those friends. He'll ask you why you want his attention now, when you clearly preferred theirs yesterday.
Though it’s hard for him to turn you away when all he wants is to hug and kiss you, his mind turns it into a silly game to find out if you love him most of all. This keeps him in a cycle of pettiness and insecurity.
Still, he doesn't want to neglect you. He wants you to see his perspective, so once he’s had enough of going without you, he’ll explain why he feels his worries are justified.
Once you exchange apologies, he’ll return all the love he withheld.
"Now do you understand? I'm only trying to protect you from ill intentions."
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Idia Shroud ; when he can't be the one that's with you.
Get jealous very often, but keeps it to himself.
Idia knows you have to hang out with others a lot because of his boundaries. He doesn’t always feel comfortable enough to go out, so you ask your other friends for company to avoid pressuring him.
Still, it doesn’t make him feel great that there is always someone jumping at the chance to be with you.
When he gets notifs that you posted to Magicam only to see you looking happy with someone else, his jealousy escalates quickly.
Unfortunately, Idia isn't very good at communication especially when it comes to his feelings. So he will give you space instead, and let you enjoy yourself to prevent ruining your day with his doubts.
He will continue lurking your profiles for the next few days, but he won't like anything or reply to your messages. He'll self-isolate until you come to him, whether it be hours or days later.
When you do come see him in person to ask what’s wrong, you'll be stuck with him a while. He won’t admit to feeling jealous, but it’ll be clear from his questions that he wants to be sure you still want to be with him.
Lots of quality time will fix his mood. He might prefer the quiet of his room to the noisy outside world, but he makes it very clear that you’re always welcome to disturb him. He’d much prefer that to seeing you with other people.
"We can go somewhere together soon, so don't ask anyone else anymore! B-but for now, could you spend the night?"
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Malleus Draconia ; when you give away your time with him.
Malleus loves to have alone time with you. He's very grateful that you always reserve time in your day just for him.
But on the occasion that someone seeks to interrupt this time, and you don't turn them away or happen to cancel on Mal entirely for them, that’s when he’d get jealous.
He'd dismiss himself from the situation to let you take care of your business, but he would actually just be hiding nearby and listening.
If the person seems to be taking up your time for reasons that Malleus himself finds unworthy, he won't hesitate to use a bit of magic to make that person suddenly leave you alone, as if possessed.
He’ll return to you pouty and distracted. He’ll initiate lots of physical touch, and might even suggest going to his dorm room while he milks all your affection.
He doesn’t hide feelings of jealousy because he’s learned your instinct is to coddle him when he makes it obvious. Your giggles and half-hearted apologies in response to his melodramatic words of worry make him fall deeper in love.
When he’s jealous, Malleus doesn’t care for words of reassurance as much as he does actions. He is quite secure in your relationship, but he will never get tired of seeing how comfortable you are with him. He loves knowing that you won’t ever run away.
"Now that they're out of the way, I do wish you'd learn to say no. I am quite selfish when it comes to my time with you."
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a/n: Okay so I tried to get Riddle's Halloween card but I could NOT get any SSR until freaking pity. Then that last key set gave me both Jack and Ruggie's Dorm Uniform SSRs instead of Riddle 😭 I thought, "Wow, Leona really sent his underclassmen after me?" And that gave me the idea for jealousy hcs…
Hope u all enjoy, holiday prompts will probably be coming soon! kisses <3
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stuffeddeer · 2 months
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Hello I’m new here, I just couldn’t help but notices how lovely you write. So I have little request for you.
Can I request Nikolai and any characters you want reaction when their s/o hides stuff between her breasts?
omg welcome just my drunk friend! tysm!!!! i love nikolai im on it 🫡 and dazai ofc..
has: no pronouns used but mention of boobs and bras, also one (1) use of the word tits. is that worthy of a warning? probably not. but Nikolai says it in a weird way bc he’s the worst so just in case 🤞🏻
You knock feverishly on Nikolai’s door. Fuck, where did you leave your key? You’d already made it back to your apartment when you realized it wasn’t in your pockets. The last place you were was Nikolai’s, so if he didn’t have it you aren’t sure who would.
“Nikolai, you dick,” you mutter under your breath. That asshole is definitely still awake, so why wasn’t he answering the door?
The knocking ceases as Nikolai swings the door open, hair unbraided and eyes glimmering. “Missed me that badly?” He leans forward, bending down slightly to maneuver his face just above yours. “You could’ve called, y’know.”
“Yeah, well,” you shrug. “I need to come in.”
“Pushy!~” He pouts, crossing his arms and standing up straight. “Not even gonna say hello?”
A groan passes your lips, too frustrated at your missing key to play his games. “You didn’t.” You pause momentarily. It’s less frustration and more so anxiety that makes your skin crawl and your tone snippy. “Sorry, I just lost my key. I’m worried I dropped it on the street walking home.”
Eyes lighting up, you would’ve sworn Nikolai beamed down at you with two mismatched flashlights. “You need your key, you say? And what if I told you I could procure it for you?”
Your shoulders slump down, relaxing. He’s being an asshole, sure, but at least you know he has it. “Please, Nikolai?”
“Mm… You gotta promise not to be mad when I retrieve it. Especially since I’ll be your savior, you know!” He puffs out his chest, already proud before he has even produced the key.
“I promise, I’ll be eternally grateful as long as I can find that key.”
Nikolai’s warm and ungloved hand slips under your loose shirt collar, digging beneath your bra and in between your breasts. You freeze, even with the warmth of his hand on you. Before you can chew him out for the random grope, the jester pulls your apartment key from in between, flashing both it and a wolfish grin to you.
You say nothing for a moment, just staring slack jawed at your key. Had you really..?
“You dropped it in there before you left,” he shrugs before dropping the key back in between your breasts, not bothering to hand it to you properly. “And I just stare at your tits all the time, so I noticed.”
With a gentle smack to his bicep, you fish the key out once more and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god; I thought I was going to have to change my locks!”
“You still should - I have, like, several copies of your apartment key littered around my apartment,” Nikolai smiles once more.
You don’t even bother replying, just turning around and leaving his place for the second time that night, your apartment key in hand.
Dazai would start hiding things in there too. He tosses a pen your way before heading out on a mission, one where he knows you can’t bring a bag along, just to watch as you stuff it in between your breasts. You’d sigh resignedly, used to his actions by this point and having long given up arguing or telling him off.
When on said mission, he’d find any and every reason that one might need a pen and turn to you expectantly, waiting for you to pull it out and hold it out for him. It’s always so warm after, heated up from its time nestled between where he’d like to be stashed away.
You’d complain after he asks for the pen for the nth time, telling him if he needs to use it so often he can get one himself! Those words were meant to tell him to bring/carry his own pen, but he’d grinned before taking that as meaning he could jam his hand down your shirt to reach for it himself.
“What? You told me to grab it myself…”
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ddejavvu · 10 months
Note
ok pls i need you tp write this bc i can’t - reader gets into a fight with an unsub and ends up with a nosebleed she doesn’t notice afterward, and hotch tenderly holds her face and wipes it away
if you're interested in hotch holding reader's face to wipe away her nosebleed i'd recommend this lovely story from the equally lovely @luveline, several lines of which i think about daily ("Oh, honey." 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗)
--
You can only breathe easy once the doors to the cop car shut, and the unsub is driven away. He's out of sight and out of mind, and your shoulders sag with the weight of the worries sliding off of them. You're exhausted, and hearing Hotch's voice directing your team members is a welcome sound to your ears that have been ringing with sirens for far too long.
"Dave, you make sure Morgan gets checked out by the EMTs. He is not okay, no matter what he tells you."
"Will do," Rossi nods, wandering over to where Morgan is rubbing at his sore shoulder. Bashing through doors hurts, and you know he's probably feeling a deep ache in his muscles.
"Prentiss, you and JJ head back to the precinct and start filling out your paperwork, Reid can help once you fill him in. And Y/L/N," Hotch turns to you finally, addressing you as the last of the group. But he loses steam, falling silent when he sees you.
You don't know why, and it makes you tense. You're sure you look a sight, sweat-slicked hair and chest heaving from running to capture the unsub, but he's never been one to judge appearances.
After a quick moment of silence, one that seems like he's waiting for the answer to a question he hasn't asked, he speaks: "Come here."
You pause for a moment, but once you register his odd words, the last thing you'd have expected him to say, you race off on unstable footing. You linger a few feet away from him, brows raised cautiously.
"Yes, sir?"
"No come- here." He mumbles, closing the gap between you two so that the toes of his shoes almost bump your own. Your stomach tenses, and he digs into the inside pocket of his windbreaker to retrieve a packet of tissues.
"Sir-?" You ask, but before you can complete any further question, his hand lifts to cradle your jaw. Your chin rests on the side of his pointer finger as he angles your face upwards, towards the light of the moon that you're bathed in.
"Sir," You repeat, breathless this time. He smooths his hand up the side of your jaw, cupping your cheek as he takes a tissue and raises it to your lips.
"Your nose is bleeding," He murmurs, keeping his voice just as soft as your own. Your team members have dispersed, but if Morgan and Rossi glance over, they'll see the hottest gossip the BAU has had in years.
"Did you get hit?" Hotch asks, eyes focused on the space between your lip and your nose. The bridge of your nose wrinkles slightly as he presses the tissue gently into your nostril, wedging it tightly so that the blood can't escape again.
"No," You want to shake your head, but Hotch is holding it, so you can only speak. Your voice is weak, and muffled slightly by the press of the tissue against your lip.
"Do you usually get nosebleeds?" He presses, brows furrowing.
"No." You repeat, "Uh, maybe just- just adrenaline. Or something."
"Alright," Hotch nods, withdrawing the tissue from your face. It's stained crimson and it leaves a miniscule stain on his hand, something you'll be embarrassed about until the end of time. He hands it off to you and you stuff it back over your face, desperate to hide your flustered expression.
"Thank you, sir." You speak, voice nasally from the tissue obstruction.
He nods, tilting his head sideways towards the ambulance on duty, "I think we should get you checked out. Just in case, I know you said it wasn't an injury. But it's hard remembering what happened after the fact, and I'd rather be safe than sorry."
"Um- okay." You agree, easier than you normally would. You're fine, you know you are, but Hotch just had his hands all over your face, so you might be on the verge of a heart attack, and medical attention when it happens would be ideal.
"Come on," He starts walking when you don't, his large hand against the small of your back to urge you forwards. Your feet crunch against twigs, leaves, and dirt alike, but you can't worry about getting them dirty, not when Hotch is guiding you to an ambulance after cupping your cheek.
You're in a haze when you step up to the ambulance, and Hotch answers for you when the EMT raises his eyebrows expectantly at you.
"Agent Y/L/N has a nosebleed." Hotch informs him, nudging you forward still with his large hand, "I just want to make sure they're okay."
"Alright, let's check that out," The EMT nods, leading you over to perch against the open bed of the van, "Agent, are you feeling faint?"
Yes.
"No," You shake your head, moving more freely as you walk away from Hotch, "Um, I'm alright."
Two gloved fingers press into your neck and the EMT's face twists into a frown, "Your heart is beating very fast."
"Adrenaline." You blurt, seeing Hotch's face darken in a concerned frown from where he's listening in. It makes things worse, and you have to look away from him to lie to the EMT, "From- uh, the chase."
The EMT"s face stays pinched in a frown for a moment, but he studies your heaving chest, faraway gaze, and shaky hands, ultimately deciding that you're right.
"I think that's a safe bet. But keep an eye on that nose, if it starts swelling you should get it checked out."
"Will do, thank you." Hotch speaks for you once again, stepping in to walk you towards the SUVs. You're sure he's only being kind, that he's worried about your hazy demeanor, but he's only making it worse.
"I want you to sit down," He orders, but it doesn't feel like one because it's so kind. He offers you the front seat of his car, and you're sure you'll get a teasingly scathing remark from Morgan about it later.
Hotch reaches across you to snag a water bottle from the center console of the car, and you think your breath might never return to your lungs. Maybe you really do need an ambulance, especially when he holds the half-empty bottle out to you.
"I want you to drink this," He watches you take it with shaky hands, "All of it. And we'll get you more back at the precinct. Y/N," He ducks his head slightly to meet your eyes, "Are you sure you're alright?"
Your heart is hammering in your chest, your head is foggy and your ears are ringing with voices telling you to just kiss him already. But you nod instead, raising the bottle to your lips the second after you speak so that you don't have to say more, "Yeah, Hotch. I'm good."
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scoonsalicious · 2 months
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Unwanted, Chapter 1: Unarmed, Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: (For this part only) Following the events of CA:CW, Tony Stark has offered Steve Rogers an olive branch of sorts to bring The Avengers back together. You, CTO of Stark Industries and head of Innovation & Technology for the Avengers' Initiative, have your doubts, as you're not quite ready to forgive Captain America for ripping your family apart just yet. Steve had one condition, however, when agreeing to return to the team, one that's going to turn your life upside down and inside out: If he's coming back to join The Avengers, he's bringing his best friend, Bucky Barnes, with him.
Warnings: (For this part only) Language (obviously), minor mention of alcohol, I'm obviously on Team Tony during the CW; don't come for me, awful jokes, minor use of (Y/N). As always, if I missed any, please let me know.
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: Here's a little preview of Unwanted. In it's current form, it's standing at about 50k words, with about 25k still in editing, and I'm maybe about half done with writing the entire thing? I'm not going to lie, it starts out cute and fluffy, but it's gonna get real angsty and painful. Dear Reader has unresolved emotional trauma and Bucky doesn't understand the importance of boundaries in 21st century relationships. This piece has been my baby for several months now; I really hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917
Taglist: (Please let me know if you'd like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic
"You're sure you're cool with this, Boss?" you asked Tony Stark, for what was probably the ten thousandth time in the last hour. The two of you were sitting by yourselves off in a corner of the common area of the Avengers Tower while the rest of your team congregated around the bar, eagerly anticipating the official return of Captain America to the Avengers. That, by itself, would be enough to warrant a gathering of Earth's mightiest heroes, but what had everyone in attendance talking was the fact that Steve Rogers wouldn't be returning alone.
Your billionaire employer sighed and swirled his glass of Laphroaig, the amber liquid sloshing along the sides of the tumbler. "I don't love it, Pocket, but it was Cap's only condition for coming back into the fold, and since Barton, Wilson, and Maximoff all went off the reservation with him, it seemed a small price to pay to get everyone back under one roof." He took a swig of his whiskey and smacked his lips.
You couldn't help but smile at his use of your nickname. Thor had inadvertently given it to you when you first met the God of Thunder years ago, remarking for everyone to hear that you were so small and tiny, he could tuck you into his pocket and abscond away with you to Asgard. Somehow, it stuck. You'd hated it at first; it had felt dismissive and condescending, which of course meant that it soon became the only thing the members of your team called you, but the more they used in their daily lives, the more you actually came to love it. It was a brand new, unique identity that came to embody the person you’d become, and the past you’d worked so hard to put behind you. You were more likely to answer to 'Pocket,' now, than you were your legal name, and you were grateful for it.
"Besides," Tony continued with a shrug, "if letting the Barnes thing go means we get the band back together, I'm willing to be the bigger person about it."
You stared at him, impressed. "Well look at you. When did you get so emotionally evolved?"
"Since Pepper told me I needed to start seeing a therapist or she’d leave me once and for all," he admitted to you with a cheeky wink; you both knew that, though Tony drove his partner, Pepper Potts, absolutely insane sometimes, she loved him far too much to ever walk away from him for good. That didn’t stop the threats, though. Lord knows he tried her patience. In your opinion, the woman was a saint.
Your eyes widened at the revelation and you let out a low whistle of appreciation. "You're going to therapy? Wow. Tony, That's amazing. I'm proud of you."
"Oh please," Tony scoffed, "I have much more important things to do than sit on a couch and spill my feelings. Besides, my secrets are too valuable to divulge to an actual human being. I just trained FRIDAY on therapeutic conversational datasets so she can handle all that psychological mumbo jumbo and then I paired that with BARF's augmented reality-- it's seriously the platinum standard in mental healthcare. No awkward silences or judgmental stares, just pure efficiency. You should try it; it’d do you wonders. And the best part? No copays."
You chuckled as you took a sip of your pineapple and Malibu. "Yeah, okay. That completely tracks for you," you told him with a smile. "So, what did Dr. FRIDAY tell you that got you to change your mind about the Barnes situation?"
Furrows appeared between Tony's eyebrows as he took another sip of whiskey to buy time for collecting his thoughts. There was still so much pain in him where Bucky Barnes was concerned. You'd worked for him in some capacity for nearly fifteen years and you'd never seen him as defeated as he'd been when he got off that Quinjet from Siberia. He'd been bloodied, battered and utterly broken, body and soul. Seeing him like that had shattered you, and you never wanted to live through something like that again.
Tony ran you through his experience with his therapeutic innovation, and you had to admit, it was impressive. The system had helped him realize that Bucky Barnes wasn't responsible for the heinous crimes Hydra had brainwashed him into completing, and so his anger over the death of his parents, while justified, had been misdirected.
"Once I processed that, it was a quick jump to realizing we can't be the best version of the Avengers if we only have half the team at home, and it's innocent people who would pay the price for it. So, when I reached out to Cap and he agreed to come back if I agreed to let him bring Barnes with him, well..." Tony trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hand toward the where the rest of the team was waiting.
"So, you and Rogers are just, what? Good then? All water under the bridge?" you asked him, mild irritation clouding your voice.
"Oh, absolutely not." Tony took another sip of whiskey. "I can work with him again, and I'm glad to, but we're not going to be braiding each other's hair anytime soon."
"Good," you said, raising your glass in a mock toast to Tony. "I'm not quite ready to forgive him on your behalf just yet." Tony had essentially saved your life when you first met him, and he’d continued to support and guide your career to heights you could have never imagined. You'd started as a systems analyst and mechanical engineer at Stark Industries fresh out of college, and under Tony’s mentorship, it wasn’t long before you found yourself rising to the position of the company’s Chief Technical Officer, second in command only to Pepper, now that Tony had passed on the reins to her. All this happened long before he'd ever brought you in to work with him on the Avengers Initiative, and now you spent the majority of your time heading up their Technology and Innovation Department, as well.
Any kind of healthy respect you might have had for your boss had died out a long, long time ago, because Tony Stark  was Tony Stark, but now he was just Tony-- more like an annoying older brother you loved dearly,  whose name just happened to be on your paychecks. You owed him everything and that had earned him your unwavering loyalty. You'd follow him to hell and back again if he asked it of you, though he knew he’d never have to; you’d be paving the path there right alongside him.
The sound of laughter made its way across to you from the other side of the room and you felt warmth at the sound-- everyone, together again and happy. Just a few short months ago, you never would have been able to imagine the scene before you, not after the fight in Berlin and its brutal aftermath. You had thought for sure that this little family you'd found yourself in the middle of had been destroyed beyond repair.
So, you might have had your own reasons to be pissed at Steve Rogers.
"What's Barnes like?" you asked Tony. Having only ever glimpsed him from a distance, or from behind a computer monitor, you'd utilized all the resources at your disposal to dig up as much information on the Winter Soldier as possible, but even your skills hadn't been able to get you what simply didn't exist. "You know I don't like unknown quantities."
Tony seemed to think for a moment. "You mean, aside from being a brainwashed, murderous assassin?"
"Tony," you chastised. You knew that Barnes had spent a good deal of time in Wakanda before coming home to New York, working on having the words that triggered his homicidal alter-ego neutralized. Rogers may not always acted rationally when it came to making decisions about his oldest friend, but you were sure he wouldn’t be bringing Barnes back to the Tower if he posed a serious danger to the rest of you. Right?
"Fine," Tony said, with a typical exaggerated sigh. "Aside from being a former brainwashed, murderous assassin; better?" You rolled your eyes but nodded. "Don't really know, didn't care enough to ask. I'll be happy as long as he doesn't start murdering us all in our sleep. Cap vouches for him, so that counts for something. Maybe not as much as it did once upon a time, but something. But T’Challa seems to think he’s harmless enough now, so that’s good enough for me."
You nodded, taking another sip of your pineapple and Malibu, then leaned back, pensive. "Oh, God," you said after a moment of thought, sitting up in alarm. "You don't think it’s going to be like having an entire extra Rogers around, do you? All '40s morality and emotional repression? Because I am so over having him police my language." It wasn't that you had anything against Captain America as an Avenger, but there was only so much of the Boy Scout act you could take before you started getting nauseous. And okay, fine, you weren't too proud to admit it-- there was a not-so-small part of you that still hadn't forgiven him for what you saw as his blatant betrayal of Tony when he refused to sign the Accords. You'd promised to play nice, though, for the sake of your family, but your personal relationship with The Star-Spangled Man had taken heavy damage since Berlin.
Tony chuckled. "As if you'd ever let Cap's presence keep you from a good profanity. I should put out a swear jar. We could fund that crisis algorithm project of yours off your mouth alone."
"Fuck you, Tony," you uttered with a chuckle, fully aware that he had your number. You never met a four-letter word you didn’t fall immediately in love with.
"And look at that," Tony said with a smirk, "I just made another dollar. Hey FRIDAY, open up a new savings account and deposit a dollar into every time Pocket has a potty mouth."
"On it, Boss," the AI replied cheerfully.
You swore at Tony a few more times for good measure. "I fully intend to financially bleed you dry now, asshole."
"Oh no, I'm shaking in my custom Tom Ford's," Tony mockingly bemoaned, putting his feet, enclosed in the aforementioned ridiculously expensive loafers, up on the coffee table.
Raised voices from the other side of the room caught your attention. You stood up and craned your neck, trying to see what had caused the commotion. "I think they're here, Boss," you said.
"Alright," Tony said, standing up and putting an arm around your shoulder, "big smiles, kiddo. Remember, we're supposed to be happy about this." You suppressed a chuckle as you watched Rogers present Bucky Barnes to the rest of the team. Everyone was welcoming; you wouldn’t have expected any less, but as you watched their body language, the only word that came to mind was guarded. And you completely understood; The Winter Soldier’s reputation had preceded him, after all. There were hugs for Rogers, of course, but no one made any attempt to reach out to his friend.
Despite your overall annoyance with Rogers, you couldn't help but feel some degree of happiness for the giant oaf. When you'd been assigned on a mission with him (which happened fairly frequently, as he was so pathetically abysmal with anything having to do with technology) and ended up having to hole up in a safehouse for an extra couple of days while waiting for extraction, he'd started opening up to you about James Buchanan Barnes, and the reminiscing had made him so happy, you encouraged Steve to tell you everything about this Bucky. After that, the trouble was getting Rogers to stop telling his Bucky stories. If he wasn't sharing tales about growing up with his best friend during the Great Depression and all the absolute mischief they got into, he was sharing war stories of their time together with the Howling Commandos. He'd even shared his grief with you– how painful it had been to watch Barnes fall from that train and the guilt he carried for not being able to save him. He’d confessed to you once that, when he went into the ice, fully prepared to die, there was a part of him that was relieved to be reunited with Barnes in the next life, and waking up some 70 years later to a world where he was still alive but Bucky was still gone had broken his heart all over again. And yet, here they were– together in the next life, after all. If you were a different kind of person, you’d say it was a goddamn miracle. 
Because of the way Rogers described his best friend in those old stories, you were expecting Bucky Barnes to come swaggering along next to him, with a cocksure tilt to his head and a panty-dropping smirk playing along his lips, but the man who accompanied Steve was the furthest thing from that.
He shuffled behind Rogers slowly, looking at the floor and avoiding making eye contact with anyone else from the team. His hair hung long and limp, curtaining off his face as though it were a protective barrier. Though, if it was keeping him away from everyone else, or everyone else away from him, you couldn't be sure. He was much thinner than you'd anticipated, especially for a super soldier– though still extremely muscular, giving you the impression that it had been a long time since he'd let himself indulge in anything more than the bare minimum amount of calories he needed for survival. Tilting your head, you tried to steal a glance at his infamous metal arm, the thing of legends that had turned him from a run-of-the-mill assassin into the stuff of waking nightmares.
But the sleeve of his jacket hung limp, only empty space where the appendage should have been.
Curious. He'd come to Tony Stark's home unarmed. Your hand flew to your mouth to try and stop the uncontrollable snicker that broke loose at your own stupid joke. Tony elbowed you gently in the ribs to shut you up, and you hoped you were too far away and the others too distracted by Steve's introductions to notice you, but that thought flew right out the window when Bucky Barnes' head snapped up at the sound, his eyes locking onto yours from across the room.
"Holy shit," you breathed, knowing another dollar would go into Tony's digital swear jar, but damn if the man didn't have the most striking blue eyes you had ever seen. There were dark circles under them, and he looked incredibly tired, yeah, but they were beautiful. You didn't mean to stare, but you found you couldn't look away, either, and so the two of you were locked into some sort of impromptu staring contest. The longer you looked at him, the more you could sense an overwhelming sadness coming from him, as well as a level of wariness at being in a room full of strangers. It was almost overwhelming.
But then, just as suddenly as it began, the spell was broken. Blinking once, Bucky looked away and you felt the tension vanish from between you.
"What was that about?" Tony asked you in a low singsong voice.
"I have no idea," you answered, honestly. There had been so much pain and loneliness in his eyes. You'd seen eyes like that before, when you were younger and looked at your own reflection in the mirror following a scalding shower with your skin scrubbed raw and bloody. You suppressed a shiver.
Finally, Steve managed to disengage himself and Bucky from the other Avengers and began making his way toward you and Tony. Up close, you were struck by how tall Bucky was. He had to be at least a foot taller than you, if not more. And God, he was handsome. Granted, in a kind of heroin-chic sort of way, but still. A couple of good nights' sleep, a few good meals, some light personal grooming, and... well, there was a very good chance you were going to be in trouble once he got his shit together, that was for sure.
"And Buck," Steve was saying, drawing you out of your ogling, "This is our resident computer genius, Pocket (Y/L/N). You ever need help with anything technology-related, she's your girl."
"A bit of an over-simplified version, Rogers," you said, sticking your hand out to shake Bucky’s, "but yeah, that about covers it."
Bucky looked at you, then down at your hand, making no move to take it.
"What the hell kind of name is Pocket?" he asked, voice rough as though he hadn’t been using it a lot. Pulling your hand back, you shot him an annoyed glare.
"I don't know," you oozed back sarcastically. "What the hell kind of name is Bucky?"
"It's his nickname, Pocket," Steve supplied helpfully, though not without a trace of confusion. You gave him an annoyed, pointed look.
"No shit, Rogers." You turned back to Bucky and spoke slowly, as if to a child. "So, what do you think Pocket is, then?"
"Oh," said Bucky, catching on. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Gotcha; m'sorry about that. My manners are rusty from a severe lack of use."
You didn't mean it, but your mouth curved up into a hint of a smile, too. And then, almost as if you couldn't stop yourself from doing it, you found yourself saying "I see you've arrived unarmed."
There was a long, heavy beat of silence as Steve and Tony stared at you, mouths slightly agape, and you wondered if you'd made a critical error. You were just about to punch yourself in the face and claim you had a concussion and therefore couldn't be held responsible for what you said when Bucky burst into laughter.
It was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard, and it was contagious. Through your own laughter, you risked a glance up at Steve. He was looking back and forth between you and Bucky, an indiscernible look in his eyes, and you couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since he'd heard his best friend laugh. Hell, you wondered how long it had been since Bucky Barnes had laughed at all.
"Pocket," Tony groaned, palming his face, "that was truly terrible, even for you."
"I'm sorry," you said, trying to catch your breath through your burst of giggles. "It just slipped out-- I couldn’t help it. You know once these things come into my head, they just bounce around in there until they fall out. I didn't mean it."
Steve smiled at you. "So that's what you were snickering at," he said, amused. Damn that enhanced super soldier hearing. Rogers didn't need to be so nosy with it.
You shrugged. "What can I say? Bad jokes are my superpower. Don't be jealous that all you got was super strength and a six pack, Rogers."
Bucky laughed again, then nudged Steve playfully with his elbow. "I like this one, Stevie," he said. "She's funny."
You weren't sure why, exactly, but something in Bucky's words turned your insides into a warm puddle of goo.
Oh, you were going to be in trouble, indeed.
Next Part ->
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yonphilia · 6 months
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a/n: repost bc i wanted to add sumn😞 i jus love gojo guys <3 and wingman geto <33
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Satoru was annoying, way too annoying.
You’re at the cinema right now with Suguru and Satoru, you didn’t plan on bringing them with you, but when you held up three tickets to Utahime and Shoko to go to the movies with you, the next thing you knew, there was a long arm around your shoulder dragging you away from the two girls before they could even answer.
Here you were now, in the middle of the hallway of the cinema glaring at Satoru, with your arms crossed, who could not keep his mouth shut during the movie which resulted in you three being kicked out.
Oh, but did he care?
No! He had the attention of 5 different girls asking for his number and fawning over him, so why would he?
Suguru chuckles, dragging Satoru away from the girls as you follow behind.
“You got us kicked out!” you say trying to sound annoyed. “That was such a waste of my money— you’re paying me back Satoru”
“What!” he raises his hands in defence, his shades sliding down his nose slightly “it was not my fault the heroine was going to—”
“Shut up” you say which causes Satoru to pout
“I mean, at least we watched the first 15 minutes, it wasn’t that bad.” Suguru cuts in trying to lighten the mood but instead laughs at your stern face and Satoru’s stupidity.
Youq roll your eyes at the two and walk away to the cashier to buy snacks for yourself, and yourself only. Because somehow, everytime you go out with these two, Satoru forgets his wallet, and Suguru’s wallet just happened to be at Satoru’s dorm, and the moment Satoru’s eyes lay on the packet of cookie dough candy in your hands, he’s dashing up to you.
“Pretty please buy me one? i’ll pay you back.” He says pouting and sliding his shades down his nose to show you his “puppy” eyes which causes you to scoff, and in the end you did end up buying him a packet.
You three head back to Suguru’s car, you rush to the passenger seat before Satoru could, sticking your tongue out at him as he gets in the back. “Tiz’ what you get looser.” you say smiling to yourself.
As Suguru starts to drive, you fumble with the buttons on his dashboard trying to put on some music which causes Suguru to side eye you raising a brow.
“It’s the button on the top right corner,” he says trying to hide his smile and keeping his eyes on the road.
Once you turn the music on, you try to shut it off straight away, ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You' by Mariah Carey was blasting in full volume. Satoru snickered at the irony of the song playing with the month being October at the moment.
Few minutes pass by in silent, until Satoru peaks his head through the space between your and Suguru’s seats.
“You still mad-”
“Yes.”
“C’mon, I’m sorry I’ll pay you back” he protests pouting.
You turn your head away from him looking out the window. “That will be 70$ plus the candy so 75$ because i’m adding interest.”
Suguru tries to stifle a laugh which has you saying “You too, you owe me as well,” and he purses his mouth shut straight away.
Satoru tries to make it up to you, by bringing you to the amusement park. You two were playing an arcade game, shooting the plastic animals with waterguns till one falls over and you win a prize.
sounds easy right? not if Satoru is around.
He looses several times, and in the end he ends up throwing his water gun at the stack causing the shelves to fall along with everything on it.
And there you two were once again, standing outside the gates of the amusement park.
“You have to hear me out-”
“Don’t even think about it Satoru” you say turning away from him, hair a little damp from the waterguns.
“Okay I’m sorry I’ll make it up to you-”
“No! you do this every time”
“What if-”
“No”
Satoru frowns, knowing this was probably your last straw, so he walks up to you standing infront of you and looking down at your sulking face.
“I’ll kiss you if you don’t let me make it up to you..”
Your face scrunched up into disgust as you snap your head at him and take a step back “No- dont even think about it ew”
“Then let me bring you to that favourite place you like to eat at”
“You got me kicked out last time because you-”
“I wont! i promise!”
And yet, you two were standing on the street covered in tomato sauce and noodles dripping down from your hair.
“Heh…C’mon..hear me out…”
He’ll make it up to you properly, someday.
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© yonphilia 2023
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