#like when they added pouring liquid for the first time and there were all these close ups on glasses | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

futurecorps3 · 5 months

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

Masterlist<3

Summary: Sirius and reader plan a romantic dinner for a very tired Remus Pairing: Poly!wolfstar x reader Warnings: mentions of sex and that’s all, I think! It's fluff and post!war where absolutely nothing went wrong because Reggie was a spy for the Order just like in canon duh Word Count: 1.4K Requested: No

Sirius leaned against the kitchen counter, a playful twinkle in his eyes, and said, "You know, love, if our cooking skills don't impress Moony tonight, at least our charm will do the trick." Y/N laughed, adding a bit more salt to the pasta they had been working on for about an hour now.

"Bet your pretty smile and my dazzling gaze will be fit enough… I really hope he likes it though," she mumbled that last part, feeling a pair of arms round her from the back. "I'm sure he'll love it," Sirius whispered, kissing his girl's cheek and moving on to whisk the eggs for the brownies they were baking for dessert.

It was Remus' first year as a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. He had started the charge right after the war ended, and the trio had settled into a lovely flat on Eaton Square—a two-story building bought with Black family money. ("One thing my mum and dad will be good for!" Sirius had said back when he bought it.) They were slowly transforming it into a home. During the war, they realized they had the power to turn even a cavern into a warm place, as long as the three of them were together.

For the past week, Remus had come home absolutely drained. When he jumped into bed or the couch with them, he'd fall asleep right away and still wake up tired. Sirius and Y/N were aware that he was struggling to adapt to new routines; going from spending all his time with the people he almost lost to teaching six classes a day with minimal breaks was becoming challenging for him.

He'd adjust eventually and would be back to his old self, but for now, their boy was tired, and all they wanted was to treat him with every ounce of love and care he deserved. So, when Remus told them that he'd be coming home earlier that Friday, they decided to go all out with a romantic home-cooked dinner.

"Can you try this? I-I think it's a bit insipid," she said, stirring the cream-based sauce that was ready to serve, pouring a bit onto the back of her hand for Sirius to lick. His tongue gathered the liquid, and his eyes opened in shock. "That's amazing! D-don't change anything; it's perfect, baby," he smiled, grabbing the spoon from his girlfriend and taking more of it into his mouth, directly from the spoon to then place it back inside the boiling pot.

He either didn't mind or didn't think about it; knowing him, it was probably the latter. "Sirius, no!" she half-scolded while laughing, slapping his shoulder playfully. "Wouldn't be the first time my saliva is in either yours or Moony's mou- oi!" he snickered as the girl assaulted him again, all tiny hands against his broad figure. "You're disgusting," Y/N smiled, walking over to the dining table where a white tablecloth was set.

While the noodles cooked and her boyfriend danced to Queen while baking their last course planned for the night, she set the table. Y/N knew her boys to perfection, and Remus had always appreciated neat and aesthetically pleasing settings for their dates, and while this was not exactly one, she wanted it all to be perfect. Before coming home from a job interview that day, she stopped by and bought some candles and a nice bottle of wine; red. He loved red wine.

As she picked the bottle, she wondered how many bottles they'd collect as time passed and their flat became truly theirs. She smiled.

"Love, the water's doing it again…" she heard Sirius warn in a quiet panic and almost giggled. "Just stir them for a bit and turn off the stove; they're almost done," the girl reassured as she placed the brand-new silverware Regulus and James had gotten them when they first moved in neatly over the tablecloth, right next to the plates and careful that no wax could reach them when the candles eventually melted.

When all places were set and ready to be occupied—a bouquet of red roses and baby's breath in Remus', courtesy of their boyfriend—she returned to the kitchen. Her pasta was done, and brownies were in the oven. She found Sirius cleaning his rings, which he hadn't bothered to take off and were now covered in flour, delicate fingers gently scrubbing off the white powder.

Y/N took in the sight of him. He was going on about something that happened to him on the way home, about how he fought a lady for Moony's bouquet or something. She really didn't care when he looked like that. His long, black hair was tied in a messy bun with his wand, with a few strands falling out, a Rolling Stones t-shirt he turned into a crop top let a glimpse of his v-line show, as if it was purposely teasing his girlfriend, jeans hanging low and covered in flour.

Fuck. She scored. "… and so I told he- what are you doing?" he questioned when approached. Y/N stepped between the sink and his body, looking up at him while biting her lip. He felt her fingers hook on the empty belt loops of his pants, making him press flush against her body. "You're too pretty for this world; did you know that? Who gave you permission, Sirius? Do you think it's okay to be this perfect and just… exist like you're not this gorgeous?" she asked in all seriousness, making him blush and snicker at her flirting.

They were always like that with each other. Always flirting. Always trying to make each other blush. That, until Remus stepped in and made them both blush, fluster, and giggle like twelve-year-olds who just pecked someone else's lips for the first time.

"Careful. My brownies are still in the oven, and Moony won't take long in getting home," he warned, his eyes darkening a bit. "And?" she teased, scratching the bit of stomach exposed he displayed. "And if I bend you over-the-counter right now, dessert will be ruined, Remus will get too distracted in punishing us, and dinner will never happen. Just be patient," he groaned, stroking her face and kissing the corner of her lips, turning to clean his hands once again.

She ran her hands through his chest and screamed into his back in frustration, making his chest bubble with laughter. Right after, keys jingled in the front door, and they were both quickly at the door, smiling at each other like they held some secret intel Remus could never know about, and in some sense, they did.

Their boyfriend walked through the door, looking at them like they had grown two heads as he discarded his coat and boots by the door. "Well, hello," he smirked, walking over them and kissing their lips gently. "Are you baking something? I thought we'd do that on Saturday when Harry came over," he asked, trying to peek over their heads before Y/N pulled his head down with both her hands on his cheeks.

"We've got a surprise. Go change into something more comfortable and meet us in the dining hall." She smiled. "Dining hall?" Remus laughed, shaking his head as he felt electricity running through him with the information. Sirius remained serious as he nodded at their girlfriend's statement. "Yes, the dining hall, dear. Now go, c'mon," he encouraged, patting his shoulders as he walked away.

They used the time he took in putting some joggers and a shirt on to serve the pasta and place it on the table. Pads took care of the wine and looked up giddily at their boy paddling through the floor in disbelief. "Come sit." Y/N smiled gently, having changed the record to The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars; Remus' favorite. "Oh, I absolutely despise you both," he said, running a scarred hand through his curls as he approached the table with a soft smile playing on his lips.

Remus eyed the food, the table, and the soft music playing in the background, somehow managing to keep it together. Until he saw the flowers. He picked them up and looked at his partners with utter adoration in his eyes. "Fuck you," he laughed as tears prickled his eyes, making his boyfriend and girlfriend walk over to him to engulf him in a tight hug.

He felt safe and protected, even when he was very clearly towering over both of them. "We know you've been having a hard time coping with change, so we wanted to do something special for you," Y/N mumbled against his chest, stroking his back comfortingly. "The things I cooked might be shit… know I made them with a lot of love though," Sirius joked, kissing Remus' cheeks, which left a salty taste in his mouth. Moony laughed airily.

Surrounded by the warmth of his partners, Remus felt a surge of emotion. It wasn't just relief; it was a profound sense of belonging. Y/N's lips pressed against his cheek, leaving a lingering warmth, while Sirius's hand ruffled his hair in a gesture that felt both affectionate and familiar. "Come on, or it'll get cold."

They sat at the table, humming to the tunes playing in the background as they rambled about their day, sharing minutes of comfortable silence accompanied by loving glances out of nowhere. After the war ended, this is what they longed for. The trio would never forget how they fantasized about simpler times while laying on icy surfaces or in the woods, praying to whoever was willing to listen for a crumb of grace and a bit of luck to find solace after all that was done with.

As their eyes locked, there was an unspoken promise of enjoying the one thing they dreamed of a few years ago lingering in the air. They were giving themselves and each other a gentler life, a kinder environment, and a safe haven they could always go to. A safe haven with great pasta.

"Shit, dove… this is amazing! Where's the recipe from?" Remus exclaimed, resisting the urge to lick the plate and limiting himself to only gathering the leftover sauce with his fork like a civilized person. "I called Effie.” "Bless her soul," Sirius groaned in a solemn tone, licking the plate. Moony chuckled and drank the last bit of his wine as Y/N playfully scolded him. How he loved them, he thought.

Y/N slipped off her shoes and started prancing around to the music with a glass of wine on her way to serve dessert, a pair of warm smiles beaming at her going unnoticed as she was too lost in the beats. She paid attention to the plating, so she grabbed the small plates they had with tiny flowers on them and sprinkled some powdered sugar on top of the brownies her boyfriend baked.

"Here you go." She smiled, kissing both Sirius' and Remus' cheeks as she put the plates in front of them after putting hers on the place, sitting back down the next second. They bit into the pastry at the same time Padfoot waited for their verdict. "So? How'd I do?" He asks, in a concerned state his partners found hilarious, seeing how seriously he was taking the whole situation.

Y/N's expression turned into a disgusted frown as she chewed but quickly replaced it with a smile, making the change obvious to Sirius. "What was that!?" the black-haired boy said with wide eyes, taking a bite off the dessert himself and frowning when he actually found it good. "Come on love, it can't be that bad," Remus said, biting into his piece and closing his eyes in disgust in a very exaggerated manner.

"The-they're good, baby." She smiles, leaving the large piece untouched in her plate as she looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "I tried them; I did a bloody great job, so don't co-". His partners erupted in laughter. Moony almost cried, and Y/N's tummy hurt as Sirius shook his head with an upset pout.

"You're so mean. I hate you both. I'll never bake for you again!" "No, love, come on! We're sorry I-I just saw where Y/N was going and played along," Remus laughed, reaching over to engulf him in a hug, but his boyfriend pulled away, back facing his smiling face. He couldn't avoid the love for too long, cornered between his girlfriend who also reached out to embrace him.

"They're really good, Sirius! Come here; I-I'm sorry." "Why do you keep laughing!?" He whined with a little smirk playing at his lips he tried hard to contain when he found himself sandwiched between his loves. "No, ge-get off!" he playfully fought in-between giggles, trying to squirm out of Moony's arms, failing miserably. Y/N jumped over to them and kissed Sirius' face repeatedly.

"I-I'm leaving this house! Stop, Y/N, there's no changing my mind." He laughed. "We won't let you go; hate to break it to ya'." "Yup, I'm kissing you until you forgive us." They collapsed in giggles with sore bellies, letting go and going back to their spots to finish their desserts. "You did a splendid job, darling." Remus smiles, biting happily into his brownie. "Yes, they're amazing." Y/N assured and presses one last kiss to Sirius' cheek.

After several stories, laughs, warm smiles, and kisses were shared, they all decided to call it a night. Y/N grabbed one of Padfoot's shirts and a pair of Moony's socks, throwing them on before brushing her teeth and washing her face as her boyfriends got ready as well.

They jumped into the two queen beds they had joined and covered only with a soft silk sheet Sirius had insisted on getting since it was spring; They liked to cuddle, and if for some reason they covered more, they'd be kicking away in their sleep so they could be fresher.

Usually, Y/N would sleep between them, but today Remus took her spot and they were all comfortable with that. He wrapped his arms around his partners and kissed both of their heads, feeling exhaustion wash over him as their limbs pressed against all of his body; engulfed by love and warmth he craved his whole life before they came into the picture. "Thank you," he sighed, "for everything."

"Anything for our Moony," was heard in a soft whisper in the dark room, and with that, they drifted off to sleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Marauders taglist (DM or answer to be added): @kquil

Oh I had so much fun writing this one!!! Hope you lovelies like<3 SIDE NOTE I JUST REALIZED I SAID NO WARNINGS BUT I LITERALLY HAVE A LINE WHERE SIRIUS MENTIONS BENDING R OVER THE COUNTER HELP 💀

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

554 notes · View notes

jjkeremika · 2 months

Text

perverted thoughts

pussy eaters (eren, levi, reiner, armin)

AoT men that desperately want to remember what you taste like.

eren jaeger

eren was an absolute whiner. he’s very vocal about how it’s practically a punishment, not letting him lick and taste you every day. it’s the first thing he asked for in the morning, running his long veiny fingers up and down the soft skin of your thighs as his pleading eyes settle just below your belly button, his lips parting and jaw locking as he intensely eyes the one spot of your body.

the pout lived on his face as his bottom lip jutted out and he rounded his eyes. the same begging expression he wore every other morning, when he pleaded for an energizing taste, when he argued that you just couldn’t look and smell the way you did and expect him not to want to lick you raw.

but that was the problem. eren always got too carried away. he’d wrap your thighs around his neck and dig his sharp fingernails into the skin to plant them solid, and he’d hastily lick and suckle and bite for as long as he wanted, until you were red and sore and the area was overstimulating and you were desperately scrambling away and eren’s large hands were dangerously pulling you back.

he was demanding, but more needy, practically getting on his knees and setting his nose just above your clit so he can smell you as he begs to have you, his hands starting to claw at your thighs as you push his face away. “fucking hell, baby,” he’d haughtily sigh, a high-pitched whine gurgling from the depths of his lungs, “s’not fucking fair, you know.”

eren would capture you between his chest and the walls, hold you still by your wrists over your head as his lips would ever so closely hover over your skin. “c’mon, baby, please, i never ask,” he’d lie through drooling teeth, his fingers caressing at the skin between your shirt and pants, “just one fucking taste, that’s all, i swear.”

levi ackerman

the light sweat and scorching heat felt like a spotlight directly on his back. felt like everyone watching as levi stared at the wet spot on the sheets, as he thought about the way liquid poured around his fingers and right out of you this morning like an aggressively leaky faucet.

each time levi stuffed his fingers inside you a little more forcefully, like if he tilted at the right angle and jutted in at the right speed the liquid would almost be forced back inside, encapsulated by his fingers and providing him the perfect, warm basin to lick from, not a single drop spared from his tongue.

but you were running out of time this morning and his fingers lingered too long, had enough energy to be finger and eye fucked before your alarm was blaring and levi’s morning fantasy was ripped away.

and now he stood shamefully staring at the wet spot you created, the one that hadn’t dried because the room hadn’t warmed beyond morning chill. he touched it, let the cool wetness spread at his fingertip as he remembered how hot you felt when your muscles enveloped his digits, as he considered if temperature really added to the flavor, or just the experience.

he rested on his knees as he crawled over the shadow of your body, pushed down on the spot with his knuckle and felt the liquid crawling to his skin. he licked his lips, felt the drool slide off his thin bottom lip and watched it join the stain. levi touched his cheek to the mattress, felt himself go cross-eyed just to keep fixated on the spot your eagerness left behind, closed his eyes to the image of your lower half rutting onto his hand, loudly moaning for more as the noises of your hips meeting his hand echoed and joined.

“mmf, fuck,” levi groaned to himself, his nose inching closer to the stain and his tongue starting to drip with an unprecedented neediness, his erection throbbing against his jeans as the thought of touching his tongue to your clit raced into his mind. he was rubbing against his hand, felt the grip on his mind crumble as the one in the sheets fisted. levi nosed closer, felt the hot wave of embarrassment as he touched his teeth to the sheets, let his mouth cover the stain.

the cold caused a recoil, but the achingly familiar taste had levi’s teeth digging into the fabric and squeezing for more sweet remnants of you, frantically sniffing the sheets for your scent. he sucked on the sheets, his saliva deepening the stain, and the heat flushed his neck as he thought of you walking in on him, catching him in the gross act and chastising him, calling him impatient and lamenting him for his inability to wait, but the thoughts of you walking in transitioned into thoughts of you changing, and levi hastily sat upright as he thought of checking your hamper.

reiner braun

reiner outright felt like a pervert when the thought of your wet pussy gliding on his tongue popped into his head. the thought of you sat on top of his mouth like you’re claiming a rightful throne, his nose providing the perfect tilt and leverage to grind back on his tongue, made his brain tingle, and he liked the visual of you rested back on his chin, letting the erotic fluid flow down his neck and throat and nourish a new beard.

the uncomfortable heat was easy to set aside when he was affronted with these thoughts in your home office, with the scent of you thickly hung in the air, with the knowledge that you sat on that chair.

with one quick glance to the door, reiner dropped to his knees, rested his arms along and shoved his face into the seat of the office chair, warm from the sun or from your cushion. he stifled a moan as he thought of how his face was now mere centimeters to where your ass was, and he could picture you walking in to sit down, not even realizing he’d placed his head there first.

his hand was already undoing the fastener on his jeans when the familiar heat washed over him and he thought of licking the chair, of tasting any and all remnant of you that could exist, of picking up on that imprint your curvy ass left behind.

the thought of staying there, leaving his face ready and presenting as your chair, got him hot and bothered, made his wrist flick twice as fast and he moaned from deep within his throat. reiner bit the seat and felt the awkward motion stagger up his jawline as he considered how pretty your thighs would look, collapsing on top of him, sitting so nicely on his cheeks, as the smell of you enveloped him, as the taste of you registered on his tongue, as all of you took over his senses.

armin arlet

his expansive imagination wasn’t always a virtue. when his mind drifted to the exposed skin near your clavicles, to the tasteful dip to your sternum and the ripples by your ribs, his shaded eyes and his smile became less than innocent.

armin was curious, an explorer by nature, and that curiosity extended to your body, understanding every dip and curve caused by a bone or a muscle, learning each landmark freckle and mole. you were an ever-changing story, with new scars and pores and spots that he imagined discovering and rediscovering.

he wanted to touch his tongue to each mark, like he were metaphorically planting a flag, claiming you as his own. he wanted to run his fingers along your skin, like his hands were sails and he was charting your ocean.

the saliva pooled in his mouth like a lake as armin thought of dipping between your legs, thought of letting his tongue skinny dip inside the natural reservoir. he stared at the grapefruit in front of him, thought of how you must taste sweetly similar, and picked it up hesitantly.

he brought it to his lips, let his curiosity get the better of him and poked his tongue out, licked daintily before repeating the stroke confidently the second time. he cautiously licked at the fruit, debated internally if he should squeeze some juice to simulate how he thought you’d respond, how he so eagerly hoped to find out.

armin could practically hear you calling his name as the juice stained his lips, the grin on his face almost overbearing and overwhelming him from the playful licking. he wrapped his other arm around his neck, played into the illusion of you pulling him in, let himself pretend you tasted so bitterly sweet.

387 notes · View notes

luxtrys · 10 months

Text

a hundred and ten percent ready.

your first time with anakin skywalker (18+, smut noshy. innocent!reader, cocky asf ani (a warning in itself) size kink. )

you couldn't hear the dramatically aggressive slam of the door to yours and anakin's apartment over the soft music flowing out of your record player. you hummed to the tune, swiping your hand through the chocolate you had used all your muscles to chop into the pot of boiling heavy cream.

anakin watched lovestruck, leaning his head on the kitchen door frame as you let out an excited squeal to yourself while mixing the steaming pot of hot chocolate on the stove. ani was confused the first time you had brought up hot chocolate to him, on the first conversation you ever had might i add. the way you talked about it with so much care and love he thought it was a childhood pet your parents just let you name. you added in the espresso powder and vanilla essence before stirring it with the heart spatula ani had gave you on a random sunday.

once you noticed a few to many bubbles rising to the surface of your beautiful creation, you quickly bent down to be eye level with the stove. as you slowly changed the size of the flame under your pot, you felt a strong arm snake around your waist, pulling your ass into the persons crotch. squealing, you straighten your back instantly as the familiar smell of smoke, sandalwood and cologne enters your nose. "what'chu makin baby?" anakin rasped, bending down to rest his head on your shoulder.

you looked up at him, mustering up the most annoyed face you could. he knew what you were making, you made hot chocolate at-least twice a week without failure. "oo baby don't look at me like that, gonna make me cry" he smirks, leaning down and catching your lips in a heated kiss. you indulge for a few seconds before pulling back, moving your attention back to the pot on the stove "i added espresso powder this time ani! i read it on that blog i like, it said it really brings out the chocolate flavour and i'm so excited to try" he scoffed at how quickly you just ignored the make out session you had just, rubbing your stomach with his hand and shaking his head.

it was only a few minutes before ani was pouring the steaming chocolate liquid into the matching mugs you made him for valentines day, your names etched on each and bunnies and hearts decorating the white cups. anakin always did that job, banning you from it after you accidentally poured the hot chocolate all over your hand and he had to sit in the ice cold shower with you to calm the burning for over four hours, holding you close to his bare chest as you sobbed.

you sat down on the kitchen stools, tapping your acrylic nails onto the marble surface in excitement. "what sprinkles tonight baby?" he asked as he grabbed the whipped cream out of the fridge, he knew the answer because you picked the same every-time, but he asked anyway. "pink and white hearts please ani" you answered, glancing out to the lively city of Coruscant through your endless high windows.

"thank you ani!" you exclaimed as he placed the hot mug filled with hot chocolate, a mountain of whipped cream, small pink marshmallows and little heart sprinkles into your hands. he took the seat next to you, holding his mug filled with only hot chocolate, no sprinkles, marshmallows or cream, you almost broke up with him for that when you first started dating. the whipped cream and marshmallows you got, but the sprinkles? no way.

he wrapped his hand over the back of your chair, effortlessly pulling your chair closer to his so you were touching. you stared at him as his slid his hand over the top of your bare thigh, snaking it up and down before gripping the inside of your thigh, way to close to your heat. all while just staring absent mindedly in front of him and sipping his mug.

you were starting to feel those tingles inside of you, that you coincidently only got around ani. you and ani had done stuff before a few times after you came to him at the first feeling of tingles rising inside of you. he smirked at you then and patted the space on the bed beside him, telling you it was normal and he would help you out. he always helped you out, and you felt like it was time to return the favour. he never told you that you had to though, never making you feel like he deserved something in return, but you were ready. ready for sex.

you stared down at your mug, the little pink marshmallows drowning in the chocolate as the cream melted away into nothingness. you would never pass down a hot chocolate, never. but as you looked between your boyfriend and your mug, you realised you didn't crave hot chocolate. you craved anakin.

the loud screeching of your chair as you pushed it back and your socked feet hitting the floor alerted anakin of your state. your pupils wide and palms sweating as you pulled at the fabric of your - his - shirt. glancing over to see your mug untouched, ani was just about to pull you into his chest and console you at whatever got you worked up this time. but before he could, he heard words that made he nearly spit out the hot chocolate in his mouth.

"i want to have sex with you anakin"

out of all things anakin guessed you were going to say, those words were not one of them. you were shy, even after dating for more than a year, you never just said what you wanted without taking 5 minutes to stumble over your words. and you definitely didn't say words alluding to any sort of sexual activity unless ani teased you to say it after working you up with his fingers buried in you for way too long. "what? can you say that again princess i think i heard you wrong"

"i- pfft- ani you know what i said" you whined, still standing at least 5 feet from him, because if he were to touch you near there again, you might just explode. "nope. i need you to say it again, or you're getting nothing." ok. now he was just being mean.

you always oddly noticed that though. that anytime you guys would do anything down there, ani was just a bit mean. he was always in control, powerful, dominating, but in the bedroom it was like those present qualities were maxed out to 1000.

a flush spread across your cheeks as you huffed. "i- i want to have sex with you anakin" you voiced. that signature annoying cocky smirk spread across his features as he approached you. his combat boots still on his feet from jedi duties and his biceps bulging out of his thin black short-sleeve shirt, you thought you were going to faint.

you noticed again as he stood infront of you how fucking massive he was. he was at least a foot taller than you and could literally crush your body with a single arm if he wanted to. he left goosebumps on your delicate skin as he trailed his fingers up and down your arms making you shiver. he continued on his painfully slow attack of his soft touches before running his hands to the top of your thighs and hooking his thumbs on the sides of your lacy pink underwear.

he stared down at you, biting his lip and all knowing that your underwear was completely soaked because of him. you noticed he was stalled, not making another move and deep in thought. "ani whats wrong?" you asked, no, whined.

"you know this is a big thing baby, i'm fine with helping you out as long as you need me to ok? i don't want to rush you angel. i need you to be very sure you want this." he said softly, drawing circles with his fingers on your thighs.

you weren't exactly sure if it was because you were so horny or just so in love with him, but those words could make you break down and cry.

"im sure ani." he smiled down at you "ok baby, just-. are you 100 percent sure, because not to alarm you but if we start, i'm not sure ill be able to stop" you leaned into him, your forehead resting on the soft fabric of his shirt. "i'm a hundred and ten percent ready ani, promise."

at those words he quickly gripped your ass, hoisting you up into his chest so your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms swung around his neck. your squeal made him even more giddy as all he could feel was you, his thoughts echoed with your giggles and moans and he could practically smell you soaking through your panties.

his dick was straining in his pants as he set you on the soft pink blanket you insisted on putting on your bed. he kneeled down onto his knees pulling you by your feet so your legs dangled off the end of the bed as you squealed. he could feel the need to protect, pleasure and destroy you rise in his body as he reached under the shirt that swallowed your body entirely when you wore it, which was almost always.

he went as slow as he could as he ran his fingers up and down your folds through your panties. you threw your head back at the contact, biting your lip and whining his name. he chuckled at how little he had to do to have you melting in his hands.

as much as he wanted to tease you, he just needed to see you so bad it hurt. he gripped the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, the site of your bare chest almost making him bust in his pants. "shit baby you gotta stop doing this to me, won't fucking last. you're just so pretty." he had a slight groan to every word he said, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking, making you mewl.

he looked into your eyes as he kissed all the way down your stomach before making it to the waistband of your panties. the cold air hit your sensitive clit as ani peeled of the underwear, staring at the wetness he had created and throwing them somewhere in the room. he licked a thick strip through your folds, gripping the insides of your thighs with both of his massive hands, stopping you from wriggling as he ate you out.

"fuckin' hell baby, this pussy 's gonna be the fucking death of me. taste so sweet" he said, his breath on your clit making you squirm. he needed to be in you, now. but there was no way he was fitting in you without stretching you out first, and he needed to fucking hurry.

he sucked his fingers, teasing your hole before sliding two fingers in at the same time. you gasped, looking down at him shocked, he never did two fingers first. "i know baby, you're alright. just need to get you stretched out ok? you're alright."

you nodded franticly as he pumped both fingers in and out of you, the pain quickly subsiding into pleasure. anakin didn't know how he was going to fit inside of you, because judging how hard your gripping two fingers, he wouldn't even fit three in and he was way bigger than three fucking fingers.

he finally decided to enter the third finger into you, slowly working his way through the resistance in your pussy "n-no ani, it's to much" you were blinded by pleasure, stars clouding your vision as all you could see was anakin.

"you're ok. quit whining and take it" his tone was rough and jagged, and you could not be more turned on in that moment. you whined, struggling under him as he brought you to your first orgasm of the night. you came all over his fingers with little warning, whining into your bed sheets as you gripped and pulled at his hair.

you almost let out an objection as he got up from his spot, but judging by the clouded, stern look on his face, that probably wasn't a good idea. he pulled his top off of his body swiftly, his toned, tan chest muscles straining as he ripped of his shoes. in that moment you noticed how venerable you were, you were lying in front of him stark naked, aside from your frilly pink socks, and he still even has his massive dumb combat boots on.

you slowly gripped the pink blanket under you, about to cover the bottom half of your body before a large hand halted your actions immediately. "i swear to god princess, stop or it'll be the last thing you ever fucking do" he spat, running his fingers up and down your folds again.

you noticed that now he was only in his boxers, his hard on showing through the thin material. as he slid his boxers down his legs, his length sprung out and made you gasp. you had never seen a penis before, but the way your friends crudely described it to you, you did not think it would be this big.

"what baby? you're gonna make me insecure if you keep staring at my cock like that" you huffed at his language, wondering how long it was. you stared at it for another few seconds before deciding it had to be at least 10 inches long, or even more and thick as well. safe to say it scared the shit out of you.

"ani, are you sure its meant to be that big?" he only chuckled at you, making you regret you ever asked that question. "hope so princess, had it all my life"

you reached your hand out, touching it for a moment before you heard ani hiss and pulled back instantly. "no baby its ok, i'm just to fucking horny right now, here" he gripped your hand, bringing it up to your mouth and telling you to spit. you did reluctantly and watched as he brought your hand to his dick.

"ani, thats not gonna fit down there.." you say, looking down to your pelvic area. "we're gonna make it" he smiled sweetly, a devilish twinkle in his eye.

"and just bring it right here" he instructed, guiding you to the base of his dick. you tried to wrap your hand around it, before releasing your hand didn't reach fully around the width of his cock. he groaned and threw his head back, watching as you shyly pumped up and down the shaft of his member. "here, squeeze a bit harder yeah? its not gonna break if you add a bit of pressure baby, promise"

you nodded shyly, tightening your grip on the heavy dick resting in your hand. as he was watching your movements closely, you kept eye contact and you brought your lips down and kissed the tip softly.

"fuck this" he exclaimed, manhandling you to be in the middle of the bed as he followed closely behind you. his dick slapped against his stomach, raging red and dripping with precum.

"you're doin great, bein' such a good girl for me, yeah? just need to be in you right now" you nodded frantically as he used his hand to hold the base of his dick, positioning in right infront of your pussy.

"ani is it gonna hurt?" you ask, his expressions changes from desperation to his soft loving face, lulling his head to the side as he looks straight at you. "just for a bit baby, then it will feel good, ok? you just gotta trust me on this. but if it hurts to much you tell me to stop ok? pinky swear it" you nodded as he quickly brought his pinky up to yours, inlacing it tightly before kissing your finger and letting go. "im just gonna put the tip in first baby, ok?" you nod again, a switch seems to flick in his face and he looks mad, really mad. "fucking words baby" he says before you whine "yes ani" he smiles sweetly, jesus these facial expressions are giving you whiplash.

he interlaces your left hands together as he pushes his thick tip past your walls, you mewl in pain and pleasure, the other hand you have resting on his bicep gripping so hard you're drawing blood.

"ow ani! i thought you just said the tip!" you whine, scolding your boyfriend. "that was just the tip." he states, your comments feeding his already oversized ego as all the blood rushes to his dick. you sit in that position for about another minute, until you announce for him to start moving again.

he enters his dick slowly into you, inching more until he's about half way through your walls. "s-stop. how much more to go?" you feel like his dick is the size of a fucking lightsaber, stretching you out father and father till you feel like you're simply just gonna split in half. "halfway baby, i can stop here for today. dont have to go any further angel" you looked up at him, god, you loved him to much. "kiss?" you asked softly, releasing you haven't even kissed him this whole time in the bedroom.

ani smiled sweetly, bending down and kissing your lips softly. once he pulled away, you looked at him, and then down at his length impaling you. "keep going ani"

he nodded quickly, not even having the might to protest. you breathed through your mouth as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of you. it hurt, it hurt like fucking hell but with every inch he pushed inside you, you felt pleasure pulsate through every part of your body.

you let out one last squeal as he bottomed out inside of you, falling into you as he moaned in pleasure. "knew you could fucking take me baby, such a good girl" you beamed at his compliment as he slowly started rocking back and forth into you.

he was amazed how he hasn't cum yet, but he needed you to before he could. he knew you were close, he studied your moans and your facial expressions long enough to figure out when you were cumming.

"ani g- gonna cum" you moaned, feeling him in every-part of you. "go on baby, right behind you". you could feel his dick empty out in you as you came all over him, scratching up his toned back.

"i love you so much ani" you breathed, pulling and tugging at his hair, his breath tickling your shoulder as he answered. "you don't even understand how much i love you baby, no one will ever understand."

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker drabble #star wars imagine #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #so not proud of this sooo :(#anibear

1K notes · View notes

back2bluesidex · 1 month

Text

Incognito - JHS (WDBHG Drabble)

A Where Do Broken Hearts Go Drabble

Pairing: Hoseok X Fem!Reader X Jungkook

Wordcount: 1k+

Summary: Hoseok is curious about the guy who left you behind. So, he goes incognito.

Warnings: drinking!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: This takes place after chapter 4 and before chapter 5

Try as he might - Hoseok can’t think of anything else other than your lips, which he was about to kiss.

He doesn’t know what had possessed him earlier tonight but he really regrets it. He had been trying hard not to look at you for the better part of the day. But he failed

As if he hasn’t sold himself as a creep by continuously ogling his daughter’s therapist, that he had to lean down and almost kiss you.

Thank god Sua woke up and stopped him, otherwise things might have changed from the next session and he doesn’t want that. Not only Sua but also he have been forming a genuine relationship with someone for the first time in all these years, he doesn’t wanna fuck things up now. Even though you seemed ready for him to take you over.

He pours a good amount of Hibiki in his fancy diamond cut glass. Looking at the liquid he sighs, he thinks to himself of the countless identical nights that he has been spending locking himself up in his study after putting Sua to sleep.

He could have called Mina tonight. She is always ready and one call away. But somehow Hoseok feels greatly turned off by the idea.

He almost had a taste of you, he almost put his mouth on yours and lord, he can still somehow smell your sweet subtle vanilla scent in the air. How the fuck he can think of anyone else when you were ready to jump in his arms just an an hour ago?

He groans at the thought.

What is this feeling of confusion? Why does he want you but is grateful that things didn’t escalate?

The whiskey burns at the back of his throat but does nothing to take away the troubled thoughts he has been having.

Then something ticks in his mind.

“Jungkoo-?” he murmurs to himself. You didn’t say the full name but this jungkoo person has to be the ex boyfriend that supposedly fell out of love with you.

And suddenly Hoseok is curious. He wants to see the face of this idiot who let you go. He wants to see the person who broke you and whom you still probably love. Whom you probably thought of while he was about to kiss you.

He takes a big gulp from the glass and walks towards his desk. Settling down in the huge chair he opens his laptop, taps on the browser and goes into incognito mode. Typing a specific address and agreeing on using the site on guest mode, he filters out the search criteria.

Location: Seoul, Gender: Male, Age: he thinks hard about it. You don’t seem like the type to go for very older or very younger guys. Given the fact that you are still under 30, he selects the age bar from 20 to 35. Name: Jungko

Enter.

There are 5 results that pop up:

Jeon Jung Kook

Shin Jung Kook

Kim Jeong Gguk

Kim Jeong Guen

Lee Jung Min

It’s good that your ex-boyfriend has a distinct name, it makes it easy to find him. The website showed him the most relevant results, so there are 5. But he knows which two he has to work with.

So, he clicks on the first profile:

Name: Jeon Jung Kook

Age: 28

Occupation: Modeling

Address: Unknown

Email ID: Unknown

Website: www.goldenstudios.kr

Hoseok frowns at that. He has been using this people finder tool for the better part of his career but this ‘website’ section is added only on special cases. Either this jungkook guy is a bigshot or a celebrity. And he doubts if you settle for those types.

But he clicks on the link regardless.

His breath hitches upon seeing Jungkook’s face. He is the Calvin Klein model, whose face is in every possible billboard?

Jesus. Is he really Y/N’s ex? He thinks to himself as he scrolls down the page.

He can be wrong as well. There is another guy with the same name, so yeah. And he doesn’t really think you would have the mind to put up with a celebrity for three years.

But something keeps him from exiting the page. He clicks on the instagram icon that is added at the end of Jungkook's bio.

When the instagram opens, the first thing he tries is to look for your face but he finds none. Then he clicks on a random post and starts scrolling.

Hoseok stumbles upon a post from a month ago. In the picture a pretty lady is hugging Jungkook tightly. As Jungkook lovingly wraps up her waist with one of his hands, laying his head on the top of her head. There are no captions but a ton of congratulations in the comments.

So, this guy is already committed.

Hoseok thinks of the likeliness of this guy being your ex. You said he broke up with you but didn’t mention when. Given the fact that your wounds are still fresh, it might haven’t been that long. And this guy just got into a relationship a month ago. So, he can very well be the Jungkook you were talking about.

However, still, you dating a celebrity doesn’t sit right with Hoseok. So he decides to exit instagram and investigate the other guy.

Before exiting, though, he decides to tap on the profile picture to view the recent stories.

There is a picture of Jungkook, with another strikingly beautiful guy inside a condo. The caption says “happy birthday @j.m” with a tagged location.

And.. it is the same location Hoseok picked you up from today. You also mentioned visiting a friend just before the session.

Hoseok’s eyes narrow at the screen as he takes a better look at Jungkook’s face.

“So you left Y/N for the girl in the photo, huh?” He talks to the screen as if Jungkook can hear him.

“What an idiot you are, Jeon Jungkook.” Hoseok takes a swig from his glass making a silent promise of making you forget your ex.

Taglist 1:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @junniesoleilkth @terjeonbebas @kookssecret @appleh4ad @kayleeshinee @whoa-jo @definetlythinkimanalien @lovelgirl22 @agrika

Taglist 2:-

@llallaaa @mikrokookiex @parkinglot-nights @hiqhkey @diamonddia-mond @00frenchfries00 @koalasandcuddles @superchamchi88 @ttanniett @coralmusicblaze @multiasf @kookscumrag @sumzysworld @knjjjk @xtrataerrestrial @survivalistghost @kelsyx33 @aann95 @btsffreader92 @jjk174 @dragonflygurl4 @xwniazx

#bts angst #jhope angst #hoseok angst #bts x reader #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts fanfiction #bts oneshot #bts scenarios

105 notes · View notes

squichymochi · 2 months

Text

It’s been a few years since I wrote something and English isn’t my first language. Also first time I am writing/posting something on tumblr 😅

Anyway Hazbin is my new hyperfixation, so I’ve written something 👉🏻👈🏻

Warning: Mentions of death and murder as well as sex toys, but nothing too out of the ordinary for this show.

Alastor x Reader

Word Count: 1.070

Idea from: @this-hazbin-quoted

"What in the heavens is that?" Your voice carried a mix of curiosity and concern as you stepped into the hotel's living room, your eyes instantly drawn to the shiny, noisy object that had captivated everyone's attention.

Charlie, Vaggie, Sir Pentious, and Angel Dust were scattered around a brand new, fancy-looking television. The device looked out of place amid the hotel's usual furnishings. *Your husband will be more than just pissed when he sees this,* you thought, a wry smile tugging at your lips. *Understatement of the century*.

"We got it because Sir Pentious wanted to show us something new called Netflix," Charlie explained, her eyes twinkling. Her excitement was infectious, but you remained skeptical. "And what better than a movie evening huddled up together as a bonding activity," she added, her arms dancing through the air to emphasize her point.

"Mhhh," you hummed noncommittally, drifting towards the bar where Husk had already prepared your favorite drink - a dark, smoky whiskey that promised a momentary escape from the madness of Hell. You let yourself fall onto one of the bar stools, the leather creaking under your weight. "I don’t know if this is such a good idea," you mumbled, the warm liquid burning a path down your throat, leaving a trail of bitterness.

"I tried talking them out of it, but they’ve been glued to this nonsense for hours," Husk grumbled, his tail swishing in visible irritation. He poured another drink, his movements more mechanical than thoughtful.

Raising an eyebrow, you turned to observe the group. Angel Dust was lounging on the sofa, his posture relaxed. "Well, first we were watching a documentary about sextoys," he began, only to be cut off by Vaggie's death promising glare. "But since everyone's acting prudish, we switched to something else," he finished, rolling his eyes dramatically.

The group was mesmerised by the screen, their expressions a mix of fascination and horror. Husk slid another drink towards you, his own bottle now halfway to empty. "When Alastor gets back, I'm not going to be a part of this circus," he growled, taking a long swig.

Your attention was snapped back to the TV by a dark, ominous voice. "Until this day, nobody knows what happened to the man. All that was found were his glasses and one of his shoes, floating in the river."

A sense of familiarity washed over you, and you slid off the stool, drawn to the group huddled around the TV.

The story was unnervingly familiar, like a half-remembered dream. Squinting, you joined them on the sofa. "Want some?" Angel offered, extending a bowl of popcorn towards you as you took a seat next to him. You grabbed a handful, tossing them into your mouth. But as the storyteller uttered the victim's name, the popcorn lodged in your throat, triggering a fit of coughing.

"Hey there, toots, usually you choke on something that is a bit more substantial," Angel said with a snort, patting your back. "You alright, Y/N? We can switch to something else if this is too much," Charlie offered, her fingers hovering over the remote, concern written all over her face.

"No, no, it's fine!" you sputtered, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and surprise. If only they knew why that name shocked you.

Time drifted by as you all settled into watching "True Crimes Unsolved." The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows that danced along with the flickering images on the screen. You found yourself huddled under a blanket with Angel Dust, both of you gradually growing more tired by the hour, your eyes heavy with sleep.

Suddenly, a jarring static noise pierced the quiet, sending shivers down your spine. You looked up, startled, to see your husband, Alastor, perched at the edge of the sofa. His smile was strained, a forced mask over his growing irritation.

"May someone enlighten me as to why we have this grotesque picture device here?" His voice, was filled with static, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"Darling," you started, hoping to diffuse the tension, but Charlie, ever the optimist, was already bounding over with her usual infectious enthusiasm and of course undying charm. You could see Alastor's eye twitch slightly, a sign of his growing annoyance.

Alastor's mood shifted suddenly, his attention captured by the story on the screen. "Oh, I remember this one. He tasted rather delightful," he said with a giggle that was as unsettling as it was genuine. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, every eye turning to Alastor, who was now fixated on the TV.

"Didn't he, darling?" Alastor squeezed in between you and Angel, wrapping an arm around you. Your face flushed a bright shade of red, and you desperately avoided everyone's gaze. "Ha, they never found him. I told you, darling, burying his bones beneath a protected area was a brilliant idea!”

Before he could continue, you jumped to your feet. "Alright, that's enough for today. Time for bed," you declared, your voice trembling nervously. Alastor's grin widened, the mockery clear in his eyes.

As the room cleared, Angel Dust leaned in, his grin mischievous. "Never took you for the type, toots. But hey, we're all sinners down here," he teased, patting your head with a genuine and friendly smile.

Finally alone, you collapsed onto the sofa beside Alastor. "You didn't have to tell them," you pouted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and annoyance.

Alastor leaned in close, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Darling, you're my wife. They already have to know," he chuckled, his hand gently caressing your cheek.

Time passed, and Alastor wrapped an arm around you, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. "Do you want to see how many more of them are people we've dealt with together?" he asked, a hint of fondness in his voice.

You snuggled closer, resigning yourself to watching a few more episodes. But Alastor's final comment about the television lingered in the air. "This device will be gone tomorrow. I'm not fond of it," he said, the static in his voice sending yet again a thrill through you.

You buried your face in his button up shirt. "Not every new technology is a threat," you murmured. His only response was a haunting stare. Sighing, you kissed the corner of his mouth. "Fine, podcasts it is, then," you said with a chuckle.

Thanks for reading my little drabble ☺️

#hazbin hotel #alastor #the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #oneshot #drabble

129 notes · View notes

bell4lan · 7 months

Text

Sick Days

Genre: Fluff

DNI: NON-MLM/NBLM, fujoshis, mlm/nblm fetishizers

Side info: Sex is not specified so cis and trans men can read it. There is only one gender specific word (he) so if you are non-binary and are comfortable with it you can read it also :)

Character(s)/Reader: Neuvillette x Male Reader, mentioned Lyney and Wriothesley

Your eyes blinked open as your alarm clock rang loudly at your bedside, arm reaching over to turn it off. As you sat up to get ready for your day, you noticed something off about yourself. Your limbs felt sore, your throat ached, and, weirdly, the temperature of the room was so cold it felt as though you were in Snezhnaya. You quickly laid down again and bundled yourself up in your blankets, but it wasn't enough. Your body still shivered from how cold you felt.

Great. Of course you got severely sick on the day of your interview with Lyney that you worked so hard to get. You had wanted to write an exclusive on his newest trick and maybe even get some personal information on the mysterious magician, but that definitely wasn't happening now. You whined as you felt the pain in your limbs worsen as you tried to get comfortable, but it looked like that also wasn't happening either. The bedroom door creaked open as your husband peeked into the room.

"(Name)? Are you alright? You're normally up by now." He asked gently as he walked over to the side of the bed. He noticed the look of pain on your face and kneeled beside you, placing the back of his hand on your forehead.

"It seems you have a fever." He said as he cupped your cheek, trying to comfort you as he saw the sad look in your eyes.

"Today was supposed to be my big day. I'm supposed to interview Lyney I can't be sick today." You whispered to him with a frown. His eyes softened at your desperate tone, and he grabbed your hand to kiss it.

"I'm sorry, my love. I know how long you've been looking forward to this." He spoke, thumb rubbing the spot he kissed soothingly. Getting sick wasn't something that was new for you since you've always had a weak immune system, but that didn't mean it was something you were used to. Feeling so horribly was something you could never get used to. Luckily since Neuvillette was a strong and mighty dragon that meant he had a strong and mighty immune system, meaning he could take care of you. Although you hated feeling like such a burden to him, you loved that he was willing to care for you.

"I'm assuming from how bad your state is that you have a sore throat. Would you like some tea to help soothe it?" You gave him a nod in return because of how much pain you were in from speaking earlier, and watched as he left the room to get the tea. Neuvillette was practically an expert at making tea due the many times you've been sick. The first time he made it it was, to put it nicely, not that good. He had no clue how to make it since he preferred to drink water, but with the help of Wriothesley he learned to make delicious tea just for you.

A little later, your husband came in holding a tray with a teapot, a teacup, and some small snacks for you to have in case you were hungry. Once you sat up, he carefully extended the legs on it and placed it so it was hovering over your lap. He then poured you a cup of tea and added some items that would help soothe your throat before handing it to you. You took a sip and smiled as the liquid hit your tastebuds. You could barely taste anything due to how stuffed up your nose was, but you could taste the love and care that went into it. Yes it was a cheesy thing to think, but when it came to your husband these thoughts came naturally.

"Is it helping at all?" He asked as he watched you drink. You nodded again and picked up one of the snacks he prepared. Hesitantly, you ate it and thankfully did not puke due to your nausea.

Once you were finished, Neuvilette cleaned everything up and came back with some extra blankets. As he tucked you in, you looked at the clock and realized that he hadn't left for work yet. He was definitely going to be late if he kept tending to you.

"Neuvillette, don't you have work to do? You're going to be late." You said softly, not wanting to use your voice more than you needed to.

"I've cleared my schedule and will be staying home to take care of you. You should know by now that I will never leave you home alone when ill." He said, lightly scolding you for trying to make him go to work when you're sick. You smiled at him as he finished making you comfortable, and watched as he got into clothing that was more casual.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" He asked after putting on a shirt. You shook your head and watched as he started to walk out of the room. You panicked and yelped a wait, a sharp pain in your throat making you wince. He stopped and looked back at you, waiting for your request.

"Can you cuddle with me until I fall asleep?" You asked shyly. He smiled and walked over to the bed, getting underneath all of the blankets so you could cuddle him properly. He felt your arms wrap around him and he did the same to you, holding you against him protectively. His hands ran through your hair as you rested against him, humming gently as you hugged him tighter.

Eventually you fell asleep cuddled up in his arms. Neuvillette watched as you slept peacefully against him, smiling to himself because of how adorable you looked.

He hated seeing you in pain from how sick you get, but part of him loved moments like these. Moments where he could provide for you. He loved cooking for you, making you tea, making you comfortable in bed. He loved doing things for you, and when you were sick you never rejected his acts of service. Neuvillette knew you thought of yourself as a burden whenever you got sick, but he was always overjoyed to be able to care for you.

Maybe one day you will let him service you when you're healthy, though he doubts that'll happen anytime soon. Looks like he'll just have to service you as much as he can while you're still sick.

'Perhaps I could get him some flowers?'

---------------------------------------------------

Needed to make some Neuvillette fluff because he makes me swoon. He's so cute 😭

I hope you guys enjoy! Sorry if there are any errors, I only reread once because I am too lazy to reread it again

#genshin impact x male reader #genshin x male reader #neuvillette x male reader #neuvillette x reader

311 notes · View notes

joels6string · 1 year

Text

Cup o'Joel

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You've never had the heart to tell Joel that you absolutely despise the coffee he loves sharing with you so damn much. Dedicated to @dameronscopilot

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.5k (why?)

Content: Joel Miller fluff, a man trying his very best, Ellie at her finest, Joel having the happy life he deserves

If there was one thing you hated, it was coffee. If there was one thing you loved, it was Joel. Who knew those two things could form such a grueling dichotomy.

Joel loved his coffee. Name the price and he’d pay it. Half a bag of beans here, half there, he’d take whatever he could get his hands on. He’d traded a fucking shotgun for two cups worth a few weeks back. And that’s where your immeasurable guilt always came into play.

You hated the stuff. Just the smell of it made your stomach lurch. You just…didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Joel loved you, you knew that, but he was more of a show not tell kind of person. And one way that he proved you were just as important to him as he was to you was by the little things he did. Sometimes it was adding an extra pot of hot water to the little makeshift shower so you could spend a little more time beneath its relaxing heat. Other times, he’d finish off your farming shift so you could go tend to the flowers in the yard, your preferred form of gardening. But his biggest one was always sharing his beloved, coveted drink.

Refusing wasn’t an option, you’d tried. You’d masked it as an effort to let him have this one good thing to himself, something all for him to enjoy. You should have known that was only going to make him want to share it even more.

“What’s mine is yours,” he’d said, sliding the mug he’d poured just for you across the table as he walked off to his studio, pressing an affectionate kiss to the top of your head.

Shame weighed your feet as you poured it down the drain thirty minutes later, your staring contest with the little brown tawny owl on the mug proving completely fruitless as you’d mentally tried to pep talk yourself into drinking it for his sake.

The next time he’d gotten his hands on some, he’d made it first thing on a cold winter morning. You’d been on the couch with a new book you’d found at the swap shop in hand, a thick wool blanket laying in your lap with a fire roaring and when that cursed steaming brown bean water was offered to you by a large, weathered hand, it took all of your self-control to not sigh in disdain. It had been easy the first time, it wasn’t then as Joel joined you beneath the covering with a book of his own.

“This one’s better than the last,” he’d commented after a long sip, “S’a little richer. Real smooth. Glad I took all they had.”

“Was this…” you’d begun, “Was this all they had?”

“Enough for another pot or two left.”

Well, that had been a relief. Until the next sentence left his lips.

“Gonna try it?”

He’d been watching like a hawk, a happy sparkle in his eye that you could not refuse even under the direst of circumstances. He was so proud of himself, the corner of his mouth ticked up into a smile as you brought the mug to your lips, hoping if you held your breath it would help muffle the taste. It didn’t. Stifling the disgust on your face had been your hardest kill yet, the bitter liquid sitting on your tongue as you faked a swallow and smiled up at him, nodding, spitting it quietly back into the cup as soon as his eyes turned away. Ellie had stormed in moments later fresh off an early morning patrol, Joel getting up to fix her breakfast which allotted you the perfect amount of time for the fire to finish sputtering after being doused.

“Oh, you got coffee!” you’d heard Ellie exclaim from the kitchen, “Can I have some?”

Thus began a beautiful partnership. What you didn’t want, Ellie was keen to slurp down greedily, the secret from Joel making it all the more fun for both of you.

“He got more,” Ellie panted as the front door swung wide open, sweat pouring down her face after her sprint back to the house for the forewarning, “He’s fucking excited, too. He’s brewing that shit tonight.”

“Fuck,” you sighed, slamming your book shut, “Looks like I’m cooking us all dinner. Any requests?”

“Yeah, actually. Whatever you made last week, with the carrots and the green stuff. That was amazing. I’ll be back at four, make him hold off til then.”

That required a trip to the greenhouses, a favor needing called in to get another bushel of carrots so soon after your first, but the Miller name held weight and by the time you got home Joel was already showered and changed, his sack of precious brown kernels on the counter waiting to infiltrate your nose as you prepped the evening meal.

“There you are,” he greeted, a slightly frantic edge to his voice, “Leave a damn note next time.”

“Where do you think I’m gonna go?” you teased, pressing up onto your toes to gently kiss his scowl away, “Ellie’s coming for dinner.”

“Guess I should brew this up now.”

“No! Not yet, let me cook first, free my hands up.”

By some miracle you made him wait until 3:45, your eyes flitting from him to the visible door of Ellie’s place in your backyard. She better not be late. The pep in his step was undeniable, it had been months since he’d gotten his hand on any and you could see the excitement filling the fine lines around his eyes. He was so precise, measuring out the water with such care you’d be scoffing if the sight didn’t bring you so much damn joy.

“Hey guys,” Ellie greeted, right on time, “Smells good. Got a new movie for us.”

“Oh yeah?” Joel replied, gaze still transfixed as he prepped his urn, “Which one?”

“It’s called…Back to the Future.”

“Yeah…that’s a good one.”

Steady hands passed you a mug, Ellie’s eyes widening as she breathed in the scent of her reward nestled between you both on the couch, Joel chuckling softly at the antic of Doc and Marty McFly. His arm was resting atop the couch, outstretched towards you both as his palms swallowed his own ceramic cup practically whole. You were more interested in watching him than the movie playing on the big TV in front of you, you couldn’t help it whenever it looked at peace. It was so rare, so precious it made your chest swell. You didn’t even notice the small smile Ellie was looking at you with, her eyes filled with gratitude and respect. A rare thing to earn.

“Hey,” she cut in softly, shaking you from your trance, “We should check on dinner.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, tapping Joel’s hand where it rested, “We’ll be right back.”

“I’ll pause it,” he insisted, “s’a good part comin’ up.”

Ellie was practically bouncing with glee when you passed her the still-warm liquid, taking a long gluttonous sip as you checked the food still roasting in the oven. The house was beginning to fill with the aroma, thankfully canceling out the other scent that had occupied the space.

“I can’t believe he hasn’t figured it out yet,” Ellie laughed from where she leaned against the counter, another loud slurp echoing off the walls.

“Figured what out?” Joel asked, your stomach dropping to the floor as you stood up straight, eyes going wide, “Why are you drinkin’ that?”

Busted.

“Sometimes…sometimes we…share,” Ellie stammered, “Since you never give me any.”

“Well, you never ask… ‘cept that one time. And I gave you some,” he defended, your face growing hot, his face contorting in what looked like betrayal.

“I hate it,” you finally spit out.

“You what?”

“I hate it…so much. I’ve never liked it. Not a day in my life.”

Through all the things Joel Miller had seen in his life, this seemed to be the most baffling. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his mouth hanging open as if he was stunned speechless, eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to sort through whatever thoughts were traveling through his head. You wanted to laugh, but again that contrition you felt toward having wasted Joel’s most precious resource was surging.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he finally inquired, “Ain’t I supposed to know these things?”

“You were always so happy…” you began to ramble, “I didn’t want to take that away from you. You get that stupid fucking smile–”

“I do not smile stupid…”

“No. You don’t. It’s…”

“Okay!” Ellie cut in, tossing back the last of her drink before setting her cup loudly in the sink, “You guys are getting gross. I’ll leave you to it. I’m hitting play to drown you out.”

Both you and Joel laughed as she brushed by, Joel closing the distance between you and pulling you into his chest, that familiar leathery, wooded smell filling your nose and relaxing your tension.

“What do you like then?” he petitioned, lips pressed to your hair as he began to sway gently from side to side.

“I was always kind of a tea girl…” you confessed.

“That’s disgusting. You’re gonna make me have tea, in my house?”

His laugh rumbled against your ear, mingling with your own in what little crevices remained between you, your arms locked tightly around his middle.

“I’ll find you some tea,” he conceded in a husky whisper, “but I ain’t drinkin’ it.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff

707 notes · View notes

marvelstoriesepic · 5 days

Text

Breaking chains (3)

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x reader

Series Summary: Leaving behind an abusive and possessive boyfriend, and finding refuge in the hometown you once yearned to escape, certainly wasn’t a chapter you anticipated in your life’s story. Yet, eyes as blue as the sky at dusk, belonging to a mysterious biker drew you into a world of unexpected possibilities, where a job at his bar becomes more than just a means of survival - it’s a pathway to freedom and self-discovery. Though, breaking away from your past proves daunting when shackled by chains.

Chapter word count: 6k

Warnings: mentions of a toxic relationship; mentions of an accident (no explicit content); self-loathing; self-preservation (reader and Bucky)

Author’s note: Here’s the third part my people! Hope you enjoy the little lone time with Bucky :) Let me know if y’all want to be added to the tag list.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Laughter pulsated through the air, echoing off the walls and mingling with the soulful tunes emanating from the jukebox. Slight off-key singing wove its way through the dimly lit room of the bar, creating a harmonious backdrop.

Glasses, adorned with frothy beer clinked together, liquid slouching over the rims. Patrons sat shoulder to shoulder, their arms interlinked and swaying to the gentle rhythm, while others tapped their fingers on the bar counter.

You lost count of how many glasses you filled this evening, the bar being crowded with men and women enjoying their time. It was stressful but in a good way. The anxiety that had clung to you like a stubborn shadow since you left Michael was forgotten, shoved back into the recesses of your mind. If only for a momentary reprieve.

As you wiped down the counter in front of you, the damp cloth leaving streaks on the polished wood, an empty beer glass materialized before you, its base meeting the wood with a muted thud. A deep, slightly slurred voice accompanied it.

“Fill that up again, sweets, will ya?”

You looked up then, seeing Will - as he had told you the first time you served him beer - leaning on the counter in front of you. He was surely about ten years older than you, his smile a little crooked and his brown eyes, though a little unfocused from the many rounds you had poured him, still held a glimmer of charm.

He was harmless though, you were sure of it. All he did was throw you a wink when you handed him his beer back, his eyes not flying to your chest and his lips remained untouched by his tongue. He was just here to flirt a little - a harmless way to pass the hours. He didn’t make you uncomfortable and he gave a great tip, so you didn’t even have to force out a smile in return. It was endearing, really.

Yet, Sam beside you, filling a glass himself; shot you a quick, cautious glance to check in on you and it made warmth rise within you.

You had been pouring drinks for about three hours now. Steve was the one to show you around earlier the night since Sam was busy bartending. Said guy had thrown you his bright, toothy smile and a wink from behind the counter when you entered the bar for your first shift.

Steve had introduced you to a few of the bikers of the gang, lingering in the bar right now. You had recognized the three guys you saw the first time at the bar at the dartboard and learned them to be Thor, Clint, and Tony.

The blond hair, mountain of muscle - Thor - crushed you in a bear hug that threatened to squeeze the breath from your lungs, claiming you were practically one of them already. Clint rescued you from the momentary shock of Thor's unexpected embrace with a witty joke that had you laughing, Clint seemingly pleased with himself. Tony's gaze had swept over your figure briefly, his smile a practiced curve as he introduced himself. They seemed to be nice people. You heard Thor's boisterous laugh every now and then from behind the bar counter.

Nat, the only woman of the gang was absent tonight, off on business, Steve had told you.

Bucky wasn’t around either, you had noticed - ignoring the fact that your gaze swept the room, seeking out his brooding figure, clad in all black - who had haunted your thoughts since the first time you’d seen him. Steve didn’t mention him and you didn’t ask.

The bar elicited an unexpected ease that enveloped you and settled in your stomach, spreading within your body. Sam's unconventional 'job interview' at the gardening store had been a whirlwind of spontaneity, yet it led you here and you couldn’t be any more grateful for the guys. Steve had welcomed you with his gentle smile and his glinting blue eyes. He treated you like an old friend coming home from a long journey.

It had barely been a week since you came back to your hometown and the sense of comfort it already restored was almost overwhelming. The bar's cozy ambiance wrapped around you - the creaks of leather booths, the soft murmur of conversations and shared laughs, the scent of aged whiskey. It was a refuge from the chaos that had torn through your life, leaving you battered and bruised - literally.

Having had more time to take in the walls, you let your gaze sweep over the photographs adorning it. These weren’t just random snapshots; they were glimpses into the gang’s history - them standing together, faces etched in laughter.

But one picture held you captive. You looked at Steve and Bucky, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, caught mid-laugh. Steve faced Bucky and Bucky's head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. Laugh lines formed at the corners of his eyes and the edges of his mouth pushed high up his rosy cheeks. He looked so carefree and unguarded in this picture and it lured you in, almost feeling like you were intruding into something intimate.

It made you wonder if you ever were to see him laugh like that in person.

You deftly poured the next rounds of beer. The patrons around you blurred into a sea of faces, their features indistinct, lost in the swirl of conversation and clinking glasses as Bucky’s brooding presence lingered in the corners of your mind. Your eyes scanned the worn leather seats sagging under the weight of countless patrons in search of his stoic figure, his cerulean eyes shadowed by mystery.

At the dartboard, its surface pockmarked with missed shots and bullseyes, stood a rowdy group huddled around it, their laughter punctuated by the thud of darts hitting the board. But Bucky was conspicuously absent like he had been for the last hours.

Remembering the hidden staircase he descended from on the day you met, your eyes flickered to the wooden steps. The dim light of the bar cast elongated shadows, making the steps appear eerie.

Wanda had told you that one of the guys lived above the bar and you wondered if it might be him and if, perhaps the stairs led up to the apartment.

Silver rings knocking on the counter ignited you to swirl back to the front, where an impatient woman stood before you, her dark eyes boring into your skin and you gave her an apologetic smile, quickly beginning to fill up her drink. You poured a little extra into her glass and she seemed to be pleased, gaze softening into a half-smile and a curt nod.

As she retreated, you noticed Sam looking at you out of the corner of your eyes. There was an unreadable glint in his eyes and that smirk you came to like but it made an uneasy chuckle spilling from your lips as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?” you asked, your voice a soft challenge.

Sam shook his head, eyes flickering towards the floor for a split second before coming back up to you. He considered you for a moment and you couldn’t read his expression. You hated when that happened. It left you feeling defenseless. When his eyes flickered to the staircase over your shoulder, the same you’d fixated on earlier, he spoke without taking his eyes off it.

“He doesn’t really come down here.”

His voice was strangely soft, considering it was Bucky he was talking about. He seemingly talked about Bucky gentler than he did to him.

“He’s not exactly a guy for crowds,” he explained, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, “never has been. But he still plays his role here. We all are.”

He told you that everybody in the gang had their part in managing the bar. Tony was the brains - navigating the labyrinth of paperwork, licenses, and permits required to keep the place afloat. Steve and Pietro took care of the kitchen, keeping it clean and preparing snacks. Thor was the bouncer, practically towering above everyone and seeing everything - he took care of heated situations and rowdy drunks feeling too comfortable being inappropriate. Clint took care of the light and music and helped out Sam behind the bar when he was needed. Nat took care of business beyond the walls of the bar, but Sam didn’t elaborate on that.

And then there was Peter. He was still in college but helped out as a barback - stacking crates and polishing glassware. Sam mentioned that his aunt was worried he might get tangled up in dangerous affairs, but Peter seemed insistent on at least helping out a few times a week. You hadn’t met him yet, but Sam laughed as he told you he was a bubbly kid, always eager to help out.

Bucky took care of deliveries and closed up the bar after everyone left, cleaning it for the next day. He liked it that way - needed it even, although he would never admit it - Sam told you, and since he lived right above the bar it was practical for the rest.

You wondered why Bucky was the one living above the bar when he was craving solitude and silence, and how it came to that arrangement. It could have been a coincidence or he offered to take the place so nobody got disturbed and fleeing arguments.

But maybe, you pondered, he actively desired it - the rhythmic symphony of laughter and songs, clinking glasses, and animated conversations. You knew all too well that being alone and being lonely was a whole different thing. Perhaps he found solace in the cacophony, using the noises from below to keep himself anchored. Sitting in silence, alone with your thoughts could be scary. Perhaps he craved proximity to the motley crew he might consider his family, without the obligation of direct interaction.

You didn’t know if that was true, he was a complex man.

But you would understand.

You observed Sam talking with keen interest, captivated by the way he wove his words. His voice carried a warm fondness, a sense of ownership that resonated through the room. The pride he felt for this place was palpable. The smile on his lips remained unwavering as he fluidly balanced glasses, wiped the counter, and served the regulars all while talking to you - It made you understand why Sam was the bartender.

The bell above the bar’s entrance chimed once again, its sound slicing through the air. The patrons, caught up in their own worlds of laughter and conversation, remaining blissfully ignorant of its intrusion.

You envied it.

Every time that bell went off, a jolt went through you, an electric shock that reverberated through your nerves. You forgot how it felt like not to be afraid all the time - the constant, gnawing fear that clung to you like dampness. The fear that made you startle at the slightest noise, your heart racing as if it were trying to escape your chest. It seemed like such a long time ago when you weren’t jumping at shadows, at the rustle of leaves, at the creak of a floorboard.

The bar did offer a sanctuary. It cocooned you to some extent, keeping you busy enough to not lose yourself inside your mind. You could laugh with Sam and the smiles you threw the patrons while preparing their drinks were genuine enough.

But you knew that healing wasn’t a swift process. It didn’t happen overnight, especially not when Michael was out there and might find out about your whereabouts at any given moment. And maybe the next time the bell tinkled, it would indicate his figure walking through the doorway.

Acknowledging the woman who had entered the bar, you watched her walking in your direction. Her red hair cascaded around her face, framing sharp features. The corner of her lips was slightly lifted and her gaze was surprisingly clear through the chaotic ambience around you.

The leather jacket she wore reminded you of the ones the other bikers were clad in and you remembered her from the photographs on the wall you looked at earlier. She was Nat, as Steve and Sam had referred her to - a member of the gang.

You busied your hands by wiping down the counter as she drew closer. The smirk on her lips widened and she unabashedly assessed you from head to toe. Leaning her elbows on the counter, she exuded a natural confidence. There was a time when you wore the same swagger but now you felt unsettled under her gaze.

“I see why you gave her the job so easily, Wilson,” she drawled, her eyes shifting toward Sam with a playful glint.

Sam shook his head while his eyes rolled back and he pointed a finger at her, the towel in his hand swinging with his movement. “Be thankful she’s good, or you’d be in her shoes right about now.” His tone lacked any kind of malice, a playful smile sporting his lips.

Nat chuckled lightly and her eyes locked on yours again. “Call me Nat,” she offered, her smile turning genuine. She extended her hand and you met it with your own as you told her your name.

“Oh, I know,” she conceded, the smirk returning.

Just then, Steve emerged from the kitchen, his eyes landing on Nat at the bar and she pivoted toward him. You watched him raising an eyebrow - a question she seemed to understand - and she responded with a subtle shake of her head.

“All clear,” you heard her murmur, before another customer beckoned and you were forced to return to your task, pouring liquid with practiced ease.

****

Sam had rung the bell for the last call ten minutes ago and patrons stumbled out the door, their voices fading into the night as they disappeared down the cobblestone street. The air was thick with the lingering scent of whiskey and beer.

Sam had insisted you leave a few hours ago, but the bar was bustling until the end and you didn’t want to leave him alone. You had met his chastising glances with determined smiles and brushed off his concern. And although he was reluctant, his gratefulness was clear.

“You’re a stubborn one,” he had grumbled, but his eyes were soft. “Thought I’d only have to deal with Bucky.”

Glasses clinked as you restocked the shelves and Sam finished off the counter. You started wandering the room - Tables were littered with half-empty glasses and crumpled napkins. You paused at one and reached for the glasses when a voice startled you.

“Let me.”

Nearly knocking the glasses off the table, you were about to collect, you whipped around and there was Bucky - dressed in his signature black attire, hair tucked neatly behind his ears. The hand that had reached out in your direction fell back to his side, and his face wore an apologetic wince.

You shifted on your feet uncomfortably, cheeks flushed at the embarrassment of your jumpiness. You didn’t even hear him coming down the stairs.

“Oh, no it’s fine. I can get those,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t come out wavering.

“You’re stealing his job, sweets,” Sam called from the bar. “Cleaning up is all he’s good for.”

Bucky sighed but his attention remained fixed on you. “You don’t have to do this,” he claimed, voice gentle.

“I’m happy to help, really,” you insisted, meeting his eyes briefly before picking up the glasses and walking back to the bar.

“Let her, man. She’s as stubborn as you are,”Sam called out with a laugh.

As you all worked together to tidy up the bar, the atmosphere settled into a comfortable rhythm. You cleaned the glasses, while Bucky placed more on the counter from the tables and booths scattered around the room.

Silence settled over you as you worked and when you finished restocking the freshly cleaned glassware, your gaze shifted to Bucky, who was diligently wiping down the tables, his back to you. He looked more at ease than you‘d ever seen him. His shoulders weren’t rigid, and his movements weren’t as tense as they normally were. You couldn’t take your eyes from his relaxed state.

Curiosity tugged at your insides as you noticed him wearing that glove on his left hand again. He never seemed to put it off. Though, you couldn’t delve deeper into the topic because Sam was watching you. Anticipating the usual playful or teasing smile, you met his gaze, but instead, his features held a softness - a fondness that seemed to reach deeper. There was something in his expression you couldn’t unravel and it made you turn away again.

A few more minutes spent in silence passed before Sam clapped his hands together after stowing away the broom. “Alright, ladies, I’ve got to head out,” he announced, slipping into his coat.

You caught Bucky stilling in his movements from the corner of your eye.

“Do you want me to give you a ride home, Y/n?”

Sam looked at you expectantly, his question sincere and his gaze soft, but you hesitated. You felt like you couldn’t accept his offer, and honestly, the thought of getting on a motorcycle made your stomach churn, so you waved him off with a smile. “That’s nice Sam, but I’ll just walk. I’m not too far.”

“You shouldn’t walk home,” Bucky chimed in as he stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours. You had a hard time holding it. His expression was serious, yet somehow still soft, although the dim light traced the edges of his jawline, accentuating its sharpness. The cloth he had used to wipe down the tables dangled from his fingers.

“I hate to say this, but I agree with Barnes here. It’s dark and it’s pretty late. You shouldn’t walk.”

Your gaze returned to Sam, still standing at the entrance. “I could just call Wanda, I’m sure she’ll pick me up,” you said, a shy smile gracing your lips. You didn’t want to inconvenience anyone - a sentiment Michael had ingrained in you.

Sam shook his head, about to respond, when Bucky interjected.

“I’ll walk you.”

You blinked.

Sam blinked.

“There’s no need to ask Wanda. We let her walk over to take care of Pietro lots of times already. So I’ll just walk you,” he explained, his words casual, yet underlaying with a kind of nervousness that was endearing to you. He looked tense again, with his left hand tucked in his pants pocket, while his right fisted the fabric of the cloth. His eyes darted around the room slightly, before they met yours once more.

You cast a swift glance at Sam, who stood there with his arms crossed, thoroughly entertained. Then, your attention turned back to Bucky. “Are you sure? I mean, you’re practically home already, I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

Bucky shook his head slightly, his hand waving in a dismissive gesture. “I don’t mind,” he assured you and a gentle smile tugged at his mouth.

You held his gaze, searching for any hint of insincerity. His eyes were dark in the shadows of the bar, but they still held the depth you came used to by looking at them. He looked at you as if it were your choice - as if it were merely an offer you could take up. It had been a while since you got to make your own decisions and you took a second, glancing at the ground to absorb this weight.

These people, strangers just days ago, had embraced you with open arms and it stirred something within you. Bucky’s gentleness, the way he looked at you thawed the ice around your heart.

Sam shifted from the entrance after you took a few seconds too long to answer. “Well, you kids go figure that out. I’m leaving,” he declared, throwing open the door. His smirk lingered as he glanced back at the two of you before stepping out into the night with a playful goodbye on his lips.

The door swung shut and the silence hung over you again. You shifted on your feet, nerves fluttering. Bucky’s gaze remained patient as you met them again.

“Well, uhm,” you began, your voice coming out a touch uncertain. “If you’re sure…” The words hung in the air, a tentative acceptance. Bucky’s response was immediate, his smile widening - a confirmation that sent warmth blooming within you.

“Give me a sec,” he said lightly, already moving to get rid of the cloth in his hand and getting his coat to slip on.

The solitary figure of Bucky’s motorcycle occupying the place in front of the bar caught your attention immediately after Bucky held open the door for you and your worn shoes met the pavement outside. Earlier in the evening, it had been one among several parked bikes, but now it stood alone since everybody in the gang went home.

The sleek, matte black frame of the bike seamlessly merged with the surrounding darkness, save for the occasional glint of metal catching the faint glimmer of moonlight. Your gaze lingered on the machine for a few seconds. You took in the curve of the handlebars, the gleam of chrome accents against the black backdrop, and the pronounced dent in the front that stood out in the soft glow of a lamppost a few feet away.

“Lead the way,” Bucky said quietly, extending his arm for you to step forward. With a faint smile on your lips, you glided past him and he was quick to follow, making sure to match your pace as he fell in step beside you.

Silence hung between you, but it wasn’t as awkward as you had anticipated. Bucky took a deep breath beside you, taking in the scents of the night, as you took in your surroundings. A shiver ran down your spine, both from the cool night air and the unexpected closeness to Bucky as he steadily walked beside you, his worn leather jacket almost brushing against your own coat.

In Seattle, the night was always alive with activity - the honking of cars, the murmur of voices from nearby restaurants and bars, the rhythmic beat of music drifting from open windows. The air was filled with the rich aroma of coffee, intermingled with the savory scent of street food. The streets bustled with people and passing cars that left whiffs of exhaust for you to smell.

Here though, the air is quiet, carrying a crisp and clean scent. There was the gentle chirping of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl echoing in the distance. Bucky’s boots made a steady, rhythmic thud against the pavement, punctuated by the soft shuffle of leaves as you both walked side by side.

The silence between you felt almost intimate and you assumed Bucky felt the same as he softly cleared his throat beside you. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke, as if not wanting to disturb the peacefulness that surrounded you.

“So, how long do you know Pietro and Wanda?”

His gaze remained fixed ahead, on the darkened storefronts lining the street. You stole a quick glance at him, captivated by the way the moonlight sculpted the planes of his face. He maintained a relaxed posture, hands tucked casually into his pockets, his expression relaxed.

It was nice seeing him like this. You didn’t know where this feeling came from, since he was still a stranger to you, but seeing him this comfortable left your heartbeat pick up, the usual stoicism and scowl on his face lost in the soft breeze of the wind that brushed by, and let you shiver slightly.

You took a breath to answer him. “We met in elementary school,” you answered, a faint smile touching your lips. “And have been friends ever since.”

You caught Bucky’s nod from the corner of your eye. A low hum escaped his throat, the sound almost swallowed by the darkness.

“I hope Pietro doesn’t cause you guys any problems,” you mused, your gaze fixed on the cracked sidewalk ahead. The rhythmic crinkle of Bucky's leather jacket reached your ears and you tried to suppress the jolt, that ripped through you when it lightly brushed against your own coat.

“Nah,” Bucky replied, his voice a touch deeper, “he’s a good guy. Helps out as much as he can.”

It was your turn to nod as an answer.

Somewhere between the life you left behind with your hometown and this new, uncertain existence, the ability to weave words and spark conversation had deserted you. The vibrant, witty you of your old life was a stranger now, replaced by a hesitant shadow. You were drowning in unspoken thoughts and questions, the weight of them settling heavily on your shoulders.

Yet, Bucky’s presence ignited a sliver of comfort within you, and a sense of relief washed over you. He didn’t seem to mind the quiet or the lack of an answer from you.

The silence stretched for a beat, punctuated only by the crunch of your footsteps on the sidewalk. Then, Bucky swallowed and began talking again.

“I’m sorry about Sam,” he started, his voice gruff. “He can be…a bit much sometimes. Talks a lot. And doesn’t really care about boundaries.” A sigh escaped him, and you stole a glance upwards to see him grimace in apology as he looked down at you.

You huffed out a laugh, looking back down at the sidewalk. “Oh no, it’s fine.” A smile played on your lips. “I actually like him.”

Bucky chuckled slightly, a deep rumble that echoed from his chest, vibrating through your own body. It only lasted a second, but that sound would stay with you longer after this conversation ended, you were certain.

“Don’t let him know,” he warned, a smile in his voice. “It takes one pretty girl telling him she likes him and his ego bursts.”

You darted a surprised glance up at him, his words sinking in. Did he just call you pretty? As if realizing the same thing a bashful smile spread across Bucky’s cheeks. His gaze darted upwards, feigning interest in the moon casting its silvery glow upon you both.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you laughed lightly, your voice laced with a newfound warmth. A pleasant heat spread through your chest at his comment and his lightly flustered state. You couldn’t help but steal another glance at him. Bathed in the moonlight, his features seemed even more striking, the sharp angles softened by the slight curve of his lips, a little contemplative. He was beautiful.

You blinked surprised at the familiar brick facade of your apartment building looming ahead already. The walk with Bucky had been so comforting, time melted away under his presence.

Coming to a slow stop, you turned to him.

“Well, uhm, this is me,” you stated softly, gesturing towards the building with a tilt of your head.

Bucky mirrored your halt, his body turning slightly to face you fully.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you said sincerely, a grateful smile gracing your lips. “You really didn’t have to, but I truly appreciate it.” Your fingers fidgeted with the fabric of your coat.

Bucky’s smile mirrored yours and he shuffled on his feet slightly. “It’s no problem at all, Y/n.” Your name on his lips sent a pleasant tingle through you. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah,” you replied lightly, turning towards your doorway. “Get back home safe,” you added, the warmth of his gaze lingering on your back when you faced your door.

You didn’t notice Bucky remained rooted to the spot, swallowed by the shadows between two lampposts, only moving again after the door fell shut behind you.

****

Bucky’s boot picked up a lone pebble on the sidewalk, sending it skittering across the uneven pavement. It bounced once, twice, the dull thuds echoing in the stillness of the night, before coming to a rest nestled against a jagged crack.

The night air felt a little colder suddenly, prickling with a sudden chill. Yet, a warm sensation bloomed in his chest, something he couldn’t quite define. It was some sort of contentment he hadn’t felt in a long time. Perhaps never truly, when he thought about it.

Bucky liked going for walks when it was night. He felt like he could hide away in the cloak of darkness. The many people, the harsh glare of the sun, the cacophony of car honks, and children’s screeching laughter - all these things were absent in the night. It was only him and the watchful moon, providing him the little flicker of light he needed.

He listened to the symphonies of the night, a chorus often drowned out by the relentless chaos of the day.

But tonight, those noises were merely playing in the background as Bucky continued his trek back to the bar.

His mind remained tethered to thoughts of you.

You had become a persistent presence in Bucky’s thoughts for the last few days, an enigma that he couldn’t unravel ever since the first encounter at the bar. There was something about you, an unmistakable vulnerability - a weightiness that hung in the air around you, hidden beneath a forced smile.

He noticed it in the way you carried yourself - the subtle restlessness in the way you moved, the nervous energy that danced in your fingertips as they toyed with your jacket, the restless flicker of your eyes as they darted around the room.

And of course, he had seen that fleeting flinch, barely perceptible yet telling, as Pietro mentioned a name. Michael, Bucky believed it was. Tension had gripped your frame, the wary glance around as if making sure nobody had seen that involuntary reaction.

But Bucky had, and it made him wonder.

It was clear that you carried around a burden. You instinctively closed yourself off, becoming awfully guarded whenever inquiries veered too close to the reasons for your return to your hometown. He had seen it in the gardening store when Sam asked you those probing questions.

It wasn’t that hard to guess that it had something to do with that Michael, Pietro had mentioned.

Bucky became good at reading people in the times he closed himself off - after his accident. He fell into a hole, a chasm of solitude where he sought refuge from his harsh realities. He withdrew into himself, staying within the confines of his own silent anguish.

The gang tried to respect his sense of distance, but a chill settled around him like a shroud, enveloping him in an aura of icy detachment. His demeanor turned frigid, his responses curt and clipped when he provided his friends with an answer at all. They got used to his stares and the frostiness that cloaked his every interaction.

Until Sam put a stop to it.

He was the one to give Bucky shit about it and forced his sorry ass back up with annoying persistence, urging him to claw his way back to the surface.

Or as Sam had put it: “Get your ass out of wherever it’s stuck, man, this can’t go on like that”

Still, there were certain things his accident had taken from him that even Sam couldn’t force back. He lost parts of himself - pieces of his identity, fragments of his former self, leaving behind a fractured semblance of the guy he once was. In its wake, insecurity crept in, entwining his being, and strangling the remnants of his confidence.

It made him grow out his hair and hide away those ugly scars that littered his left arm behind long sleeves and those damn gloves that made him sweat underneath.

He grew into a new version that had lost interest in flirting with every pretty girl he came across in a town he knew he would only pass through. He no longer reveled in the transient pleasures that once left a trail of satisfaction in his wake when getting back on his bike and leaving her and her town.

After it happened, his nights had unfolded in a predictable, almost monotonous way when he and the gang had entered a new town to stay for a couple of nights before moving again.

Always moving.

He stayed in those dingy hotel rooms with their flickering fluorescent lights and stale air, oftentimes sharing a room with Steve and Sam because money was always rare.

Or, he would find himself hunched over a bar counter with a white-knuckled grip on the beer glass in front of him. Each swig of whiskey, each shot of bottom-self bourbon, was a desperate attempt to drown out the echoes of past mistakes, to numb the shame that gnawed at him from within.

He had hoped the alcohol would help get rid of that uncomfortable itch under his skin that made his back prickle with a cold sweat at the lingering stares of some of the women in the bar. Unfortunately, though, nothing could help distract himself from the onslaught of unwanted attention, so after he couldn’t take it anymore he left the bar to take a walk in the dark.

Just him and the moon, a silent communion with the vast emptiness that mirrored the hollowness within.

His past behavior irked him - the fleeting pleasure he sought, now a bitter residue staining his conscience. It had been a momentary high, but at what cost? Perhaps he had left a trail of hurt feelings after fleeing another girl’s apartment before dawn’s first light could even peek through the curtains, just for her to wake up to the fading rumble of a motorcycle - his motorcycle.

His ma had raised him better than that.

Thinking of his former actions always had bile rising in his throat. Disgust at himself coiled in his chest, a viper he couldn’t seem to dislodge.

So it left him bewildered that he was so effortlessly flirting with you earlier, the word ‘pretty’ tumbling from his lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It was true, undeniably so - you were beautiful, but the ease with which the compliment flew out left him stunned.

He didn’t know where that came from. All he knew was that your presence afforded him a strange sense of calm. He didn’t feel himself retreat into his usual shell. It was unnerving to some extent, this unfamiliar territory. The way his thoughts buzzed with you, a constant undercurrent, sent a tremor of apprehension through him. He was out of his depth.

Earlier tonight he had been grappling with the thought to leave his apartment and walk down those stairs to the bar. He knew you would be there, attending to your first shift and it would be an opportunity to see you again, but he had hesitated. He knew you barely a week, and surely he would have to deal with a few questioning glances from his friends and that inevitable teasing smirk of Sam - one he had threatened to wipe off with a fist more than once - that he seemed to wear more often since you came to town.

But then he did get to see you and of course, the first thing he did was startle you. He had cursed himself inwardly. Yet, as you prepared to walk home alone in the dark, a surge of protectiveness washed over him, compelling him to ensure your safety. It was a sensation foreign to him, yet undeniable in its intensity.

He had never experienced such a pull towards anyone before. You ignited something within him, a dormant spark that stirred to life in your presence. He was intrigued by you because although he could read people well, there were things about you that remained a mystery to him.

Perhaps, unbeknownst to the both of you, there may be deeper similarities hidden beneath the surface.

Tag list:

@heletsmelovehim @moonlightreader649 @jbbarnesgirl @differenttyphoonwerewolf

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #biker au #biker!bucky #leather biker

40 notes · View notes

somethinginthewayiam · 1 year

Text

Party at the clubhouse

(pic off tumblr)

pairing: Chibs Telford x plus-size reader

words: 1730

warnings: there is 18+ content throughout (minors DNI), alcohol, shit-talking

Summary: you go to your first party at the SOA clubhouse and show off a hidden talent

link to my masterlist and previous parts

It was your first time being invited to a party at the Sons of Anarchy clubhouse. You didn’t know how to dress for that, you weren't a fan of short skirts or dresses because of your big thighs and too insecure for an in-your-face cleavage.

You just decided on a pair of jeans and a tank top. Your big boobs made everything look at least a little bit sexy. As soon as you arrived at the clubhouse, you noticed that you're overwhelmingly overdressed when you saw all the cool biker groupies in barely any clothes. Lyla called them croweaters.

You were relieved to find Lyla outside the front door. She was wearing a really short dress that ended right underneath her ass. It looked great on her body; she really could wear anything.

She greeted you with a hug and pulled you inside to get you a drink. The air inside the clubhouse was heavy with cigarette smoke and the smell of sweat, liquor and...was that puke?

At the bar, you found Bobby sitting and drinking with Happy and Tig.

"Hey, boss", you greeted him and pulled him into a side hug. "Hey doll", he greeted you back with the nickname he gave you on day one and that he used every time he was at the office with you. You didn't mind it, you found it endearing and he kind of reminded you of your dad. Although you would never let him know that.

“Want a beer?”, Lyla asked you as she walked behind the bar and pulled a few bottles from the cooler. “You can give us all a round”, Tig said and pushed his empty bottle towards Lyla. “I help you”, you said and walked around the bar. You stored your purse underneath the counter in an empty spot and started opening the bottles with a swift and skillful motion.

“Gentlemen”, you said and put the three bottles on top of the wooden bar top. “Thanks, doll”, Bobby said and grabbed his new drink. “For the lady”, Happy pushed a ten-dollar bill towards you. You grabbed it with a laugh and stored it in your bra. “Thanks, sugar”, you thanked him with a wink and for the first time ever you saw something like a little smile on this guy’s face.

“Doesn’t look like I’m needed here”, Lyla commented with a laugh and walked around the bar with her drink, taking a seat next to Bobby.

“I used to job at a bar back home, always got good tips”, you told them and took a sip from your beer. The cold liquid was a nice refreshment in the thick, hot air inside the clubhouse. It had gotten quite hot at the end of June, even during the nights.

“I wonder why”, Tig said and looked shamelessly at your boobs. “Must be my winning personality”, you said with playful innocence.

“I see we hired a new bartender”, you heard Jax’ voice as he came over. Behind him was Chibs and as soon as you saw him, you felt a little flutter in your stomach and even further down.

“What gust of wind brought you into my little joint?”, you joked and used the dishtowel behind the bar to wipe over the counter, adding to your joke.

“I’d like a beer, sweetheart”, Jax answered with a sweet smile and leaned against the end of the counter. You took another beer from the cooler, popped the cap off and slid it over to him. You were relieved when he caught it in his hand and it didn’t slide off or fell over, spraying everyone with beer.

“And what can I get you, stranger?”, you asked Chibs as he sat down right in front of you. “Jameson, neat”, he told you and put his elbows on the counter. “A man with class, I like it. Coming right up”, you told him with, what you hoped was, a flirty smile.

You turned around, grabbed one of the tumblers and put it on the counter. Then you grabbed the bottle of Jameson and poured about two fingers worth of liquor in it. “There you go”, you said and put the bottle of Jameson back on the shelve behind you.

“Thanks, darlin’”, he said and shot you a light smile before he grabbed the glass to take a big sip. Something in your stomach jumped again at his words.

“Just FYI, I’m accepting tips”, you said to distract yourself and shot Happy a wink, which he answered with a little nod. Chibs looked over at Happy and back to you, furrowing his brows just for a split second and then it was gone again. You almost didn’t see it, but you did.

The men chuckled but pulled out their wallets. “We never had a prettier bartender”, Tig said and shot an air-kiss in your direction. “That’s true”, Lyla said and moved a five-dollar bill over to you. “Buy yourself something nice, baby girl”, she winked at you which made you laugh.

You collected the money off the counter and stored it in your bra. “Keep it coming, still enough space in there”, you joked and took a sip form your beer again. Some of the guys blatantly stared at your boobs after your comment. Tig even put his chin on his hands that were resting on the counter to have his eyes at your boob level. “Yes, very lovely”, he said, keeping eye-contact with your breasts.

You took the dishtowel and snapped it at him. “Hey, eyes up here”, you said and motioned towards your eyes. “No, thanks”, he simply stated and kept looking. You had to laugh; it was too absurd.

Ever since starting to work for the M.C. and being around the club, you had been called beautiful and flirted with more times than your whole life and you actually started to believe it. At least, a little bit. You knew these guys loved to flirt, but they didn’t have to do it with you and they still did. You just wanted to believe that they didn’t just talk to any woman like that, truth or not.

You stayed behind the counter for a little while, handing out drinks to people. Jax and Tig had moved over to the couches across the bar to talk to other people. Chibs and Happy had moved over to Bobby at the end of the bar and talked there.

"You trying to be one of the guys with that outfit?", someone you didn't know joked as he suddenly appeared in front of you. He must be a visiting member of a different charter because he was wearing a kutte as well but didn’t have Redwood Original on it. He was quite the heavy fella.

You noticed that some of SAMCRO were looking over at you as they had heard the comment, but you were used to being made fun of because of your appearance and came prepared.

"With those tits, barely", you said as you looked down at your own body, grabbing your boobs through your shirt. "But I see you’re a close second on the boobs-scale", you said as you nodded at his man boobs which made some people around laugh as they had started to follow your little conversation. With your comment you had managed to avert their attention off of you and over to Mr.-big-mouth, just like you wanted.

"Aw, Little-Miss-Hurt-Feelings can't handle a little joke?", the guy taunted, getting annoyed that people suddenly were laughing at him and not with him.

"I think she showed ya that she can handle a joke, son. Looks more like you can't", Chibs stepped in, his face was all serious. The guy made a step forward towards Chibs like he wanted to start something, but Chibs didn't move an inch, he didn't even flinch. You quickly came around the bar.

"How about a little bet?", you pushed yourself in front of Chibs and in-between the two men who were still having a staring contest.

Your whole body was pressed against Chibs’ front as he was standing very close to the guy but you tried not to be distracted right now.

"Let's play a round of pool. If you win, I take my shirt off as you apparently find it so hideous", you suggested and his eyes dropped down to you at your words.

"And if I win, you owe me a hundred bucks. You can keep your shirt on ‘cause no-one wants to see that", you continued, feeling a little brave with the alcohol in your system and knowing that SAMCRO would have your back. "Alright", the guy just nodded and walked over to the pool table, scaring away the people that were playing a game right now.

"Y/N, you don't have to do that, we can just kick him out", Jax intervened, who had come over from his conversation when he had noticed the altercation and stopped you from going over to the pool table.

"Jax, don't keep the lady from her purpose", Tig put a hand on Jax's shoulder pulling him out of the way and ushering you over to the pool table.

To put it quite simply, you utterly destroyed that guy. He even made the mistake of asking you for a rematch and got humiliated a second time. The little lesson you had to teach him brought you 200 bucks.

"Huh, it's been a while since I played for cash but it was fun", you said after collecting your prize and the biker and his friends moved over to another corner of the clubhouse to lick their wounds.

"Who are you?", Juice asked surprised and spoke for the entire group. When you looked at them one by one, you got a little self-conscious.

"We had a pool table in our house and growing up with three brothers and their annoying friends...", you shrugged your shoulders.

"Nice one, lass", Chibs winked at you before he turned around to get himself a beer from behind the bar. There went your stomach again.

“But now, you’re gonna meet your match”, he announced when he turned around again and grabbed a cue off the pool table. He put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it. “And that shirt bet’s still on”, he said, winked at you before he bent down to take the first shot.

next part Late night

#sons of anarchy #soa #chibs telford #chibs telford x plus-size reader #chibs telford x reader

164 notes · View notes

kpop-stories-21 · 9 months

Text

Drops of Affection

Group: ATEEZ

Pairing: Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1k

Rating: 18-21+

Genres, Tropes, & AUs: Non-Idol AU, Fairy AU, Fluff, Romance, Love At First Sight

Content & Trigger Warnings: Water Fairy!Seonghwa, Flower Fairy!Reader, first kiss, cute nicknames. Nothing too bad I don't think but please let me know if I missed anything!

Summary: You never paid much attention to the water fairies who helped keep your portion of the gardens thriving. When a small accident brings you face to face with the most gorgeous water fairy you've ever seen, you think it might be love at first sight.

General tags: @kpop---scenarios @jeonrose @skittlez-area512 @mybiasisexo @skeletor-ify @biaswreckingfics @anyamaris @trashlord-007 @liliesofdreamsskz @rdiamond2727 @naturalogre @bxffietheblxxdy ATEEZ tags: @deltamoon666 @lovelyhange

If you want to be added to my taglist, click here

Network pings: @cacaokpop-fics | @kdiarynet

A/N: This is part of an ATEEZ Fairy collab with some other members of @cultofdionysusnet

Divider courtesy of @cafekitsune

Collab Masterlist | Main Masterlist

As a flower fairy, you were always happiest amongst your flowers. Weaving between petals, whispering encouragement, and tending growing buds; you wouldn't trade this life for anything. Of course, without the help of the water fairies, none of your charges would get very far. You were grateful, no doubts there, but you never really saw much reason to interact with them. Then one day, all of that changed.

It was the worst day you could ever remember having. It started with a mischievous squirrel breaking into your little house, accidentally ruining your favorite dress made of purple and white calla lily petals. Then you took too long choosing another dress and had to head in for work without breakfast, which had you feeling pretty cranky.

Now you were approaching your little corner of the gardens, trying hard to keep yourself in good spirits so the flowers wouldn't pick up on your sour mood. You told yourself that once you were among the leaves and petals, the heat under your skin would cool.

"LOOK OUT!!!" A frantic voice broke through your musings, bringing you back to the present moment. You glanced up just in time to see a large bowl of water hurtling through the air, heading straight for you. You barely had time to react, only managing a few hurried steps before the bowl landed upside down right over top of you.

Icy cold liquid fully soaked you within seconds, your wings now useless until they dried off. The irritation simmering just below the surface was now threatening to boil over. Whoever was responsible for this predicament would be getting an earful from you, that was for sure and certain.

The bowl was lifted off and you whirled, ready to lay into the first fairy you saw, only to freeze at the sight of the most gorgeous fairy you'd ever seen. Your anger evaporated immediately, replaced with curiosity and awe.

He was tall, for a fairy; you figured him to stand a whole head above you. Short black hair hung in loose waves, threatening to cover the bright blue eyes that gazed at you in concern. His face looked as if it had been sculpted from marble, smooth and unblemished. He wore a fitted, sleeveless blue shirt and knee-length trousers, both made of leaves from the Blue Hadspen, one of the few plants that grew only in your corner.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea it would travel that far." His voice was deep, like the rumble of a creek pouring over rocks. "Are you alright? You aren't hurt, are you?"

You shook your head, smiling cheerfully to mask the sudden racing of your heart.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"But your wings!" He protested, looking extremely worried.

You giggled shyly, unused to such focused attention. "I have a friend who's a light fairy. She can get them dry in no time."

The water fairy smiled at you, relaxing a little. "May I ask your name?"

You smiled back, feeling your cheeks grow warm. "I'm Y/N."

"And my name is Seonghwa. Would you mind if I walked with you to see your friend? I feel it's the least I can do, seeing as it's my fault your wings got wet."

You nodded, thinking some company would be nice after the morning you'd been having. Seonghwa looked pleased by your response and the two of you set off.

Over the next few weeks you learned more about Seonghwa, and the two of you quickly grew closer. You had started to develop feelings for the kind water fairy, but were afraid to say anything in case it ended up ruining your friendship.

But after a talk with your light fairy friend Irene, who scolded you for not having said anything yet, you informed Seonghwa that you needed to tell him something and asked if the two of you could meet up later that evening. He agreed and soon the two of you were wandering casually through the forest, talking comfortably.

After a while you came upon a bench and sat down, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. Seonghwa sat beside you, eyeing you curiously.

"What is it you wanted to tell me?"

This is it, don't get cold feet now!

Not knowing how else to go about things, you just blurted it out.

"I like you, Seonghwa, as more than a friend. To be honest I think it was more like love at first sight."

A cool hand touched your shoulder, cutting you off before you began to ramble nervously. Seonghwa turned toward you and looked at you with such strong emotion it felt like he was looking through you.

"Then you feel the same as I do." He declared.

Hope and joy surged to life within you. Impulsively, you threw your arms around his neck, causing him to laugh in surprise. His hands came to rest around your waist as his eyes fell to your mouth.

"May I-"

"Please!" You begged, leaning forward.

A delighted smile crossed his features and he surged forward, closing the gap between you as his plush lips met yours.

Giddy with a mix of excitement and relief, you melted into the sweet kiss, feeling as though you were floating high among the clouds. You felt content, like you were meant to be here, wrapped in Seonghwa's tender embrace.

You sat there for a bit, neither wanting to part, until a lack of air forced you to separate. Panting, you gazed into Seonghwa's eyes, still a little surprised that he actually returned your feelings.

"I'm glad you told me how you feel." He whispered, hands coming up to gently caress your face. "I don't think I could have managed much longer without knowing."

You giggled softly. "You have Irene to thank for that. If she hadn't pushed me, I probably wouldn't have said anything."

"Remind me to thank her next time I see her."

He leaned close, pressing his forehead against yours. "I love you, my precious lilly."

"And I love you, my handsome water prince."

#cultofdionysusnet #tinkerbell who #kdiarynet #cacaokpop #ateez #seonghwa x reader #ateez fluff #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #au #fanfic

69 notes · View notes

dianneking · 1 year

Text

Intoxicated - Larissa x Reader - Drink Two. Truly Bloody Mary.

Summary: Larissa is a handsy drunk. Vampire!Teacher!Reader is a sad drunk. This fact, and their inability to talk about their feelings, blows what could simply be a drunken accident out of proportion.

Angst! Drama! Drunkenness!

Part one is here.

Cross posted on AO3 here.

Here's my fanfiction masterlist.

---

A/N: I am quite ambivalent about this second part. It totally spun out of control from my original idea, but at the same time it kinda made sense, so I didn't want to scrap this second chapter to make a new one. I might revisit this in the future to have an alternative second chapter, but not anytime soon for sure. Beware of the content warnings below if you are at risk of being triggered.

TW second chapter: Drinking, intoxicated people, blood, swearing, angst, mentions of dubious consent, talk of death, talk of self harm, in-depth talk of suicidality. Please be safe if you are fragile, no fic is worth you suffering.

“I know you have something to take off your chest.” Vlad closed the door to your quarters behind him with his shoulder, and toed his shoes off, his hands busy with the paper bag, crystal carafe and two shot glasses he was holding.

“Good evening to you too, Vlad, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company on this lovely Saturday night?” You sniped sarcastically. You were already in your nightclothes, not expecting any visitors, especially not him, friend or not.

The only person you had any interest in spending time with, which happened to be your boss and the person who had tried to seduce you while completely drunk, had apparently decided to pretend you had dropped off the face of the Earth, so you didn’t really want to partake in any other sort of interpersonal interaction for these two blissfully empty rest days. You even managed to swap patrolling duties with another colleague, just as to have an excuse to lock yourself in your room for the whole weekend.

“I don’t know what happened to you in the past days, but this sulking and hiding away is not something that is acceptable for a young stripping vampire such as yourself. So here I am coming to the rescue like the knight in shining armor that I am.”

He set down the two shot glasses and the decanter on your desk and proceeded to take a clear bottle and some blood packs from his paper bag.

“Vlad are you serious?”

“Truly Bloody Mary shots!” He announced cheerfully, tossing the now empty bag over his shoulder and perching precariously on the edge of the desk to pour the liquids in the carafe allowing them to mix properly. You were sitting in the only chair available, but that didn’t seem to dissuade him in the least. “The only way to get through heartache, as my old gramma always said, bless her nonexistent soul. Do you want to start talking without it or wait until they start to loosen your tongue?”

“Start pouring, you soulless bastard.”

“You know you love me, darling”

“That’s the only reason why you’re still alive.”

“Well, as alive as possible.”

“Truth.”

He expertly poured the first shots and held one out for you to take.

“What should we toast to?”

“To your gramma, bless her nonexistent soul.”

“Indeed! To my bunica!”

That started a long series of toasts, each growing more and more absurd as the mix of blood and alcohol started to have its effect on the both of you.

“To…to alcohol!” You proposed, raising the shot glass once again “That brings out fiends from the most frigid bitches!”

“Hear hear!” Vlad downed his quickly, before pouring some more. The carafe was starting to be quite emptier than when you started out. “To those frigid bitches, may the alcohol always flow in their veins!”

You nodded solemnly, trying to raise your glass to match his, but only managing to slosh it around. “To those bitches, like Principal Weems!”

Vlad had been halfway through his shot when you added your two cents to the toast and he choked, spraying alcoholic blood all over the front of your nightclothes.

“Gee, thanks for that, Vlady, I really needed to upgrade my wardrobe to baby vampire’s first feeding”

He was still trying to recatch his breath from the coughing access that had followed his accidental inhalation of the shot.

“I’m sorry…what?” He managed to choke out “What does Weems have to do with this?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought we were talking of frigid bitches who need alcohol to loosen up”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, but it seems a bit too specific…did something happen between you and Weems? You’ve been giving each other the cold shoulder since Outreach Day.”

“Of course nothing happened. Nothing ever happens. And she has been the one giving me the cold shoulder, that ungrateful piece of s-“

“Woah woah woah. Hold your horses. That doesn’t sound like the reaction one has when nothing happened, so here.” Vlad got a hold of your favorite mug, lying abandoned on the other side of your desk, and poured a generous amount of Truly Bloody Mary mix. “Drink up and tell daddy Vladdy what happened to make you so pissed at her. I honestly thought you had the biggest crush on her for ages.”

You took a sip of the concoction and suddenly sadness overwhelmed you like a tidal wave. Oh, how you wished you could go back to when you simply had a crush for her, when all you did was admire her from afar and imagine how her lips would feel like on your skin…

You suddenly broke into sobs, holding onto your mug with both hands as big, salty tears came rolling down your cheeks. It felt like a dam had broken within you and you simply couldn’t stop.

“Oh my baby. What happened? I’m so sorry.” Vlad was really astonished at your sudden outburst, but he tried to comfort you as best as he could, jumping down from the table to pull you out of your seat and in an awkward hug, the drink still somewhat caught between you as he rubbed soothing circles on your back. “Here, let’s sit on the bed, and tell me everything.” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will your tears into submission. The sobbing stopped, but your eyes kept stubbornly watering. You took a large gulp of the drink in your hand, the vodka burning your throat as if you hadn’t been drinking it for the past – how long had it been? – Time was starting to lose all meaning in your alcohol-induced haze.

“I did have a crush on her. I…I think I still do.” You tried to start explaining, Vlad’s hand still rubbing your back and giving you the comfort you needed to keep going, but how could you even explain? “But now it’s painful. Do you understand? I don’t want to have a crush on her anymore! Not after…” you drank some more, hoping to stop your voice from breaking again.

“After what? What happened?”

“It was the night after the absolute clusterfuck that was Outreach Day and…Laris-Principal Weems…I found her drunk in her office. Like drunk drunk. Like, slurring words and all that jazz drunk. I…I thought I could help her” You couldn’t help yourself, you spat the words out, angry at your past self for putting yourself into that situation out of the kindness of your heart.

“And?” Vlad was completely captivated by the story now. Even his hand has stopped his comforting motion on your back. He was suspended in the moment.

“And well, it turns out that Larissa Weems is one handsy drunk.”

“Oh my God. You two slept together?”

“No, Vlad! Who do you take me for? Didn’t you hear the part where she was completely out of it because she was drunk? She probably thought I was someone else anyway.” You didn’t even try to keep the bitterness out of your voice. The tears were not stopping, and you were starting to feel hollow inside. Vlad’s hand trembled slightly on your back before it resumed its circles. His voice trembled too, as he murmured in the softest voice you had ever heard him use.

“Darling did she…do things to you that you didn’t want?” The question took you aback. You didn’t expect Vlad to care that much. You were friends, yes, but more of the boisterous, over-the-top, ‘let’s get drunk together and have fun’ kind. This gentleness was not something you were used to.

“No, no I wouldn’t say that. I did want her to do that and much more to me, it’s just… I wanted her to be aware that she was doing it. And when she sobered up, she made it extremely clear that it was just the alcohol, and she doesn’t want anything to do with me. Not even small talk apparently.”

The sobs were back, and this time you didn’t even try to put a stop to them. You just put your mug down, and hid your face in Vlad’s chest, his other hand coming to wrap around you as he whispered comforting words “I’m so so sorry, dear. It’ll be alright, I promise. Tomorrow we’ll find a solution… Shh, It’ll be alright. I’m here with you.”

After what could have been minutes, hours or full days, your sad hiccupping subsided, and you tentatively detached from Vlad, “Thank you, I… I think I needed that.”

“What are friends for, darling?”

“Still, that was a lot to unload on you. I appreciate it.”

He stood up, picking up his paper bag from the floor, and putting all of the things back.

“It was my pleasure. Will you be alright tonight? Would you like me to stay?”

“I think I’ll be ok.” You could still feel the alcohol buzzing through your body, but the tidal wave of repressed emotions was gone. You picked up the mug again and drank it dry. “Thank you for the Truly Bloodies, your gramma was right as always”

“Ah, my bunica, she never missed a beat. Except that of her heart, of course.”

“Bless her nonexistent soul”

“Quite right. Sleep well, darling, and if you need me, feel free to come knocking. Tonight or anytime.”

You grasped his arm in an affectionate gesture. “Thank you.” You stressed the words, trying to impart how much you meant them.

And with a toothy grin, he was gone, living you so very alone.

Suddenly your small quarters felt almost claustrophobic around you. You needed air and you needed it now. You opened your door, and slipped through it, your bare feet not making any sound as they carried you like a ghost through the halls and up a small staff-only flight of stairs that brought you to one of your favorite places in Nevermore: the teachers’ terrace. It was a lovely place to come and think, and you were especially fond of it during the night. This is where you had come to decompress after Outreach Day, before your traitorous steps had brought you into Larissa’s grasp. You hadn’t come here since.

Just another bit of happiness that had been stolen from you in that fateful night. The knot was back into your throat, a mix of sadness, regret, and frustration. You had honestly thought you didn’t have any tears to cry anymore, but you can feel them prickling at your eyes nonetheless, undaunted.

Man, who’d have thought that you would turn out to be a sad drunk?

You took a deep breath, taking in the endless sky, riddled with stars. It was so breathtakingly beautiful. You let the tears fall again, unable to pinpoint even your emotions anymore. Were you sad at having had a glimpse of something with Larissa, just to have it so ruthlessly taken away? Or angry at her treatment of you from the morning after onwards? Both? Neither?

Slowly you walked up to your favorite place to sit, the parapet. There was something just so mesmerizing in sitting so far up over the world, the night breeze gently caressing your face, drying the tear tracks on your face before new ones were made in a never-ending sad game of chase. It was as if you were floating among the stars, offering them your heartbreak, and drinking their light in exchange.

It wasn’t the door opening behind you that diverted your attention from the heavens above, nor it was the surprised intake of breath of the person behind you; you were too deeply entrenched in your connection for that, tears freely flowing now, dripping onto your ruined nightclothes. It was the slow, controlled, almost circumspect sound of heels clacking on the stone floor of the terrace that finally did it. You turned your head and cursed your horrible luck.

Larissa stood frozen where she had been when you turned to look at her. Her eyes were open, alarmed, almost…scared. She was holding her hands up in a placating gesture.

“Hey there.” Her voice was high-pitched and uncomfortable. Why was she talking to you now, after going to great pains to avoid you? She didn’t make any fucking sense, and you didn’t want to waste any more time than you already did trying to interpret her behavior. You turned back to admiring the night sky, hoping that she would get the hint.

Clack. Another step in your direction, followed by a pause.

Clack. It was as if she was walking in slow motion and your slowly-sobering brain could not even try to understand why.

“I just wanted to check if everything is okay.” The words sounded wrong in that high, anxious tone, and at the same time they rang slightly familiar to you, like a memory out of context, or a déjà-vu. You kept ignoring her, choosing instead to look down on the faint lights of Jericho just some way off. They were not as pretty as the stars.

Clack.

“May I talk with you?”

You wanted to scoff at her, but what came out was a strangled sob. You angrily wiped at your eyes, but the tears just kept falling. Why did she have to come and torture you after ignoring you for days?

“Oh so now you want to talk?”

Clack.

“Please. I…I know you are in pain. I understand” What was up with the pleading, desperate undertones that her voice had? You couldn’t even begin to imagine. And you didn’t care.

Clack.

The last clack was right behind you. Strong arms snaked around your frame, hoisting you bodily off your seat and depositing gracelessly in a heap on the terrace floor. Larissa crouched between you and the parapet, her eyes still wide, her breathing labored with exertion.

“What the fuck, Larissa?” Whatever you had been expecting, a bodily assault was not it. The tears stopped, but that didn’t mean you didn’t feel like you were hollow and broken inside. “Are you drunk, again?”

She physically recoiled, as if you had slapped her.

“No…no. I just. There’s ways to get help. Please.”

You shook your head, still not understanding. Were you being insulted here? “Are you telling me I should get help? Have you seen yourself?”

Her face scrunched up in a grimace, and she lowered her gaze “I… I know I’m not the right person for this but I can call someone else if you’d like. There’s always something that can be done.”

“Larissa, you’re not making any fucking sense right now”

“It’s alright. As long as you keep talking. Just…don’t do anything drastic.”

Keep them talking. A lightbulb went off in your head. No wonder some of Larissa’s sentences sounded eerily familiar. You had received the same training as she did, when the people from the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline had come a couple of years ago to Nevermore.

“Larissa, I wasn’t about to jump!” The sheer absurdity of the situation dawned on you. That explained the cautious approach, the nervous voice, the bodily removal from your favorite sitting place.

“You…weren’t?”

“Is that what all of this was about? Are you out of your mind?”

Larissa bristled, her temper rising to match your disbelieving tone.

“What was I supposed to think? You were there, in the middle of the night, blood down your front, sitting on the parapet and sobbing your heart out. And that was after days of retiring yourself from interaction with others.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“You think I don’t know?” Her voice was high, raw with emotion “How do you think I felt five minutes ago, believing you were ready to kill yourself because when I’m drunk I just cannot keep my bloody hands to myself? I…I don’t want to ever experience that again. I am so sorry to have caused you pain.” You were struck dumb. How did this become such a huge deal all of a sudden? Yes, she had broken your heart, but that was, as much as you liked to be dramatic, not a matter of life or death. You would get over it, especially if she stopped acting so fucking weird.

Larissa passed a distraught hand on her face, smudging the dark lines around her eyes. She changed her position and sat on the stone floor instead of crouching. She sighed, a sad, deep, all-encompassing sound of defeat.

“There’s another school for outcasts, up in Canada. It mainly caters to werewolves and doesn’t have the longstanding tradition that Nevermore has, but it will do, I guess.”

Your point, exactly. What was she going on about?

“Oh, so now you want to send me away? So that I’m out of sight and not at risk of reminding you of-“

“Of course not. I meant for myself. I will resign.” This shocked you out of your passive-aggressive state. Larissa leaving the school? That was absurd.

“You can’t be serious. Larissa, you are Nevermore. You cannot just resign over a drunken mistake. One that almost no one knows about, as well. I will keep my mouth shut, and…and keep out of your way if you want.”

“That is not what I want! Can’t you see? I molested you! You were helping me and in my drunken state I thought that meant that you reciprocated my feelings for you and I just assaulted you, my employee! I am not fit to be in charge of Nevermore. Hell, I shouldn’t even be in charge of a fish tank!”

“You…you have feelings for me?”

“Of all of what I said that’s what you choose to focus on? That’s not the point here! Being attracted to you doesn’t allow me to do things to you that you didn’t want to in the first place.”

You grasped her hand, and she jolted, as if you had tased her.

“Larissa, look at me.” Her blue eyes were full of tears, unguarded like that one fateful night, but this time due to the strength of her emotions, not the alcohol. You were seeing the true Larissa again, not Principal Weems and you would be damned if you didn’t take advantage of it. “I didn’t reject you because I didn’t want your advances. Quite the contrary. But you were drunk, and I was sober, and I didn’t want to take advantage of your uninhibited state just because I had a crush on you for the longest of times. It wasn’t right.”

“You…don’t hate me for what I did to you that night?” She looked so fragile, so incredulous, that you put your other hand on her cheek, a comforting touch.

“Larissa, I don’t think I could hate you even if I tried. Am I mad at you for refusing to talk to me about what happened and ignoring me in the last days? Abso-fucking-lutely. But the only thing that drove me crazy about that night was the fact that I believe that had been my one chance to be with you, when you were too out of it to know it was me.”

“I…I did know it was you. That was what made me that…uninhibited.”

“Would you mind trying that again some other time when the both of us are sober?”

A tremulous smile bloomed on her face. It was a tiny, shy, wobbly thing, but right now, it felt like the biggest success.

“Tomorrow after some hot chocolate at the Weathervane?”

You pressed your lips to hers, a chaste, closed-mouth gesture, full of affection and promise.

“It’s a date, Larissa.”

You stayed there for a while, sitting like kids on the stone floor under the stars, holding your hands, lost in each other’s eyes. When you finally broke the spell, and the both of you climbed back to your feet – with some muttered curse, the cold stone at night wasn’t too kind on the joints for either of you – Larissa jokingly pointed to the darkened stains on the front of your nightgown.

“So, what happened there, did you murder someone before coming up here?”

You chuckled, looping your arm through hers and leading her companionly towards the stairs.

“Well, in vampire culture, there’s this thing called Truly Bloody Marys, or Truly Bloodies if that’s too much of a mouthful…”

#larissa weems x reader #larissaxreader #larissa weems fanfiction #larissa weems x reader fanfiction #larissa weems angst #dianneking #dragonmist #crossposted on ao3 #larissa weems fanfic #wednesday fandom #wednesday the series #wednesday fanfic #wednesday #tw suicidality

182 notes · View notes

thechairanon · 3 months

Text

Happy Valentine's Day!!!

@totally-average-kid @egganonman @dvdanon @themalewifeanon @berry-nonnie @thatoneblue-anon @thatstaroneanon @sparkleonanon @booitsbeloved @bookstackanon

This was such a joy to write, thank you guys so so so much! This was very fun and I'd love to do something like this again. Valentine's Day special under the cut!

This Valentine’s day was going to be an odd one this year.

For starters, there was still a poll going on. A pretty important poll with roughly one hundred votes already, but probable death for Hetch wasn’t going to stop the Anons from having a fun day.

Chair was planning to bake a cake for their friends.

There were only three problems Chair had with baking a cake.

Problem one: she could only remember two ingredients which were eggs and sugar. Problem two: they had no idea how to bake a cake.

Problem two wasn’t an issue on the most part because she had plenty of friends around to help.

This brings up problem three: those of the other entities in the Void who knew how to bake a cake typically had very skewed perceptions on cake recipes.

Oh well. Eldritch cake was better than no cake.

Chair made a messy sign asking for help baking a cake, taped it to the front side of a table and sat.

Thankfully she didn’t have to wait long.

“HEYO!” He yelled as they appeared. “Cake time! Mind handing me the powder?”

“The powder?” Chair asked. She assumed !! meant the baking soda and handed the box over to them.

“Thank you.” !! opened the box and poured it into a large bowl. “So! First we need some water, oil, eggs, and another egg…”

Chair paused as !! hesitated, probably trying to remember the next ingredient. He started to float as they thought. “How about another egg!”

Chair added the water, oil and three eggs into the bowl with the baking soda. They looked at !! for more instructions.

“Now, make sure that your hand is still tangible while making it! BUT,” !! suddenly yelled, “if some stuff isn’t mixed in correctly, then you’re going to have to… to…” !! snapped his fingers as he tried to remember the word they wanted to say. “Turn down the opacity on your hand.”

Chair stared at !!. Slowly, they looked down at her hand and willed it to have a lower opacity.

Nothing happened.

“And now,” !! continued, “the mixer! You have to speak with a firm voice or it won’t respect you!”

Chair watched !! in amazement as he began yelling at the cake mixture.

Egg wandered past Chair’s sign, paused, read the sign, then ran up to Chair.

“Oh, wait wait wait!” Egg said, “I know this! I read a bunch of cookbooks when I was alive!”

Chair moved the first bowl of cake mix over to the far end of the table so it wouldn't get in the way. !! moved with it, still continuing to yell at the batter.

“I’ll put that bowl in the oven when they’re done,” Chair told Egg.

“So! You take sugar and- like a packet of sugar,” Egg clarified, “but you take a spoon and you get a good amount. Like say, maybe around however much feels right, it’s your cake.

Get milk, like a cup of it? And two eggs- I don’t count as one of those by the way. Just so you know. Don’t cook me.”

“I won’t,” Chair assured her.

Chair took a sugar packet, opened it and poured the contents into a new bowl. She then took milk, measured it out in a plastic cup they found and poured into the bowl with the sugar. Finally she popped two whole eggs into the bowl.

“Also flower and butter,” Egg mused, “but you can get however much of that you want, it’s not really a law. Now, what you have to do is mix ‘em all together, and heat it up, simple!”

“How long do I heat it up for?” Chair asked as they added the final ingredients. Three sticks of butter and a handful of flour went into the bowl.

“You cook it for- until it gets brown? And solid. Make sure it’s not a liquid anymore, very vitally important.” Egg started to walk away. “Then wait for it to cool down and eat it.”

“Thank you,” Chair called after their friend. They mixed the contents of the bowl with her wooden hands and popped it into the nearby oven. She turned back to !!, who was still yelling at his bowl of cake mix. “Are you okay?”

!! nodded, not breaking their yelling streak.

Dvd mrrowed as it hopped up onto the table.

“Hi, Dvd,” Chair greeted, brushing their messy hands against her pants to clean them off. “Do you have cake advice, too?”

“Ok,” Dvd started. “What you want to do is meow at your human for so long. And make sure it’s irritating. They may check your food and litter tray, but after a while they will be like ‘what the fuck do you want’ and you show them the cake mix. After that, wait ‘till everything is cooling. If it’s cupcakes, take one bite from as many as you can.”

Chair nodded as they watched Dvd trot away. “Thanks for the, uh. Good cat advice!”

They turned around and yelped in surprise when they saw Valentine standing ominously behind her.

“You,” he said. They grabbed Chair’s arms and pulled her closer to their height. “You measure everything by vibes alone. And then pour in a fuckton of heart sprinkles.”

Valentine only let go when Chair nodded. “...Oh, can the frosting be pink?”

“Uh, y-yeah. Will do, uh, Vale. I’ll get on that now.”

Chair nervously waved goodbye to the Malewife anon before going to do as he instructed.

She ‘measured with her heart’. Two handfuls of sugar, a fistful of baking soda, three eggs, and two sticks of butter went into a bowl and were mixed. A second oven appeared and Chair slid the bowl in. They placed pink frosting containers (there were three in total) on top of the oven so she wouldn’t forget when it was time to frost it.

“Are you okay still?” Chair asked !!. They received no answer.

“OH!” Berry said as it noticed Chair’s sign. “You’re going to bake a cake?! Yippee! I love baking! Uh- are they okay?”

“They’ve been doing that for the past thirty minutes. I think he’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” Berry nodded. “Um, so first thing is the wet and dry ingredients don’t get mixed at the same time. Actually, I don’t think that matters all that much, it just sounds silly. I mean, they go into the same pan anyway.”

“That’s good. I’ve been putting them in the same bowl the entire time.”

“Wait, what kind of cake are we talking about?” Berry asked. “It’s Valentine’s day, so I think red velvet is the obvious choice but that’s basically just chocolate cake with a load of red food color in it. Are you allergic to red dyes?”

Chair shrugged. “I hope not.”

“Okay, so we need flour, sugar, cocoa powder, salt, butter, eggs, vanilla, milk and baking soda. Am I missing anything? Hmm… oh yeah! Vegetable oil and the red food coloring.”

Chair scrambled to grab all the ingredients. Were cakes supposed to be this complicated? Oh, man, their other cakes didn’t have all of these ingredients in them.

“We should have everything now, I’m pretty sure,” Berry said once all the ingredients were on the table. “Just make sure the butter is room temp. The oven needs to be preheated while we’re mixing everything together, I’m pretty sure it just needs to be three-hundred sixty degrees fahrenheit. Get a bowl big enough to mix everything in.”

Chair rushed to preheat the third oven that appeared. Preheat the oven? Why would she need to preheat the oven?? Why was baking a cake so difficult???

“Okay,” Berry continued, “into the bowl goes the dry ingredients first. How much did we need again? One sec, I need to think about it. It’s been a while since I’ve baked a cake.”

As Berry thought, Chair whispered to !! “Do you need to breathe?”

!! shook their head.

"Um, I'm pretty sure it was 3 cups of flour, 2 cups of sugar, 2 tablespoons of cocoa,” Berry said, grabbing measuring equipment. “Oh, I always forget how much baking soda is needed. Or was it baking powder? What's even the difference?”

“You okay?” asked Chair.

“Huh? Sorry, um, I think like 1/4 a teaspoon of salt and 1/2 a teaspoon of baking soda?? Yeah, and then you mix it all together. Now 1/2 a cup of butter, which is just a stick, and 4 eggs need to be mixed in too. Oh! And 1 cup of vegetable oil. Once all that is mixed together, we need to add in the cup of milk and the red dye. It needs to be mixed well, so no clumps or anything."

Chair followed Berry’s instructions as closely as they could and mixed the batter together with their hands again. Unfortunately the red dye stained her wood hands and refused to wash out. “What’s next?”

"That's it for the batter, I'm pretty sure. Just gotta pour it into a greased pan and bake it for... 30 minutesss, I think? Yeah, 30 minutes sounds right." Berry waved as it walked away. “Bye, let me know when the cake is ready!”

“I will. Thanks for the help, Berry!” Chair slid the bowl into the preheated oven. “I’m sure I didn’t forget any steps.”

“GREASED PAN,” !! yelled at Chair. They then continued to yell obscenities at the original bowl of cake mix.

Chair internally face palmed. “I forgot the freaking pan. Eh, whatever. ‘M sure it’s fine.”

“What’s fine?” Blue asked. “Oh a cake, that’s easy. You put some butter and sugar in a bowl and mix them until combined, then add- shit how many eggs?”

“I’ve put as many as three eggs in a cake at a time,” Chair answered. “But what do you think?”

“Well, I don't know. Like two eggs I think. And mix and add vanilla extract but just a little or any extract really you could make it a strawberry cake if you wanted- nah nevermind chocolate is better if anything. Um, so anyway a little vanilla extract and then you add flour and milk to make the mix look like cake mix, and then you put the mix in a cake mold that is either non-stick or has a fine layer of butter and flour to prevent sticking,” Blue rambled. “You put the mold in the oven for like half an hour in I'd say like 180 degrees Celsius which in Fahrenheit is... More than 180 degrees.

“Oh and don't forget to preheat the oven!! The cake bakes faster when the oven is already warm and not just recently turned on (the amount of times I've forgotten to preheat the oven speaks for itself). So, um, yeah. That's how you make a cake.”

Chair watched as Blue quickly walked away and began to follow their instructions. They put this cake in a GREASED PAN this time, then slid it into the fourth oven.

“Now we throw it in the oven!” !! said normally, startling Chair. “I like to add a little bit of ectoplasm if we have some on hand but if not then just toss it in there!” They smiled as he threw the bowl into a fifth oven at full force. “Just yell for me when the cake is ready!”

Chair stared at !! as they walked away, then stared at the fifth oven.

“I am a chair that owns five ovens,” Chair whispered to herself.

“Ok, so… a cake… can I do that?” Dizzy asked.

“Cake number six, go on ahead! You just missed !! yelling at the first cake we mixed an hour ago.”

Dizzy nodded. “So... I think you have to mix sugar, flour, eggs... What else is there in a cake... baking powder? OH AND CHOCOLATE!!! THAT'S IMPORTANT I THINK! Uh... oh also you add milk I think?”

Chair gathered the next set of ingredients and added them all together in a bowl.

“Then you mix... all that stuff? And then you put it in the oven for... wait what type of cake are we making?”

Chair shrugged. “Cake.”

“Uh... ok. 50 minutes in the oven? Then you get it out and you eat it!!! I think. I didn’t bake a lot pre-tapes…”

“That’s okay! Thanks for the help, Dizzy.” Chair placed the sixth cake bowl in the sixth oven. They happened to glance over at the right time and saw Sparkle walking by. “Hey, Sparkle! Do you want to help me bake a cake for Valentine's day?”

"Oh god you're asking me???” Sparkle asked. “Uh- Shit it's been a while and I usually use a book? Right- Okay. You probably need flour? A bowl first might be useful. Flour in the bowl, right. Like a good handful or two of it.”

Chair tossed two handfuls of flour into a new bowl.

“And... What else does a cake need? Oil? Like cooking oil... Is that olive oil? Uh... Just put some oil in there. A good... Second pouring of oil. And milk? Maybe? Or is the liquid just oil? Well you definitely need eggs! I think both the white and the yolk? Maybe add a few of those. And... Mix it and heat it up? You should probably ask someone else actually-"

“No, no,” Chair said as she poured another bottle of vegetable oil in the bowl, “none of us remember correctly, so you’re okay!”

“Okay, well… thanks for baking cakes for us?” Sparkle left.

Mask told Chair to throw a few fistfuls of eggs and sugar into a bowl and hope for the best.

Bookstack gave Chair two recipes.

“To do it RIGHT you need flour, milk, eggs, sugar, water, oil, baking soda, and, like, vanilla extract?? ! think???? And you kinda mix everything and pour it into a pan and cook it at three hundred degrees fahrenheit for like an hour. And put some "frosting" that is just colored sugar and whipped cream.

“To do it wrong? Easy. Use crack instead of flour. Add some spaghetti/m&ms and you’re done.”

Once Chair was certain all the cakes were done (they made sure Egg’s cake was solid with no liquids) and decorated those that involved icing. Then they laid all the cakes out on her table in a row. She decided to replace their original sign with a new one that said ‘WARNING! Drugs in the Cake in the Center. Eat at Your Own Risk’

Eldritch cakes were better than no cake.

#chair's drabbles #<- recently learned drabble means a short story comprised of exactly 100 words #drug mention #tw drugs #<- let me know if I should edit these tags

20 notes · View notes

i-talk-too-much · 2 years

Note

What if… and hear me out… smut about Softdom!Jason todd with wax play…

hopefully this is what you were imagining! i had to do some research ahaha, i feel like it also deviated so, my bad... anyway, i hope you enjoy!

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1300 (nice)

Warning: NSFW, MINORS DNI

---------------------------

A shuddering breath left your lips as the hot wax trickled down your chest. The melted material left behind a beautiful trail in its wake, joining the other streams in an intricate pattern.

Your chest heaved from the sensation, your wrists straining against the soft fabric tied around them. You had them pinned underneath you by the small of your back and Jason loved having you in that position – the way your chest pushed up gave him better access and a better view as he poured the unscented candle-wax over you.

“Color?” His palm gently caressed the skin of your thigh, his hand moving easily with the oiled area.

“Green,” you rasped, eyes lidded as you watched with anticipation. Your bottom lip was swollen from the repeated act of biting every time the hot liquid touched your skin. Jason brought the hand holding the jar over your stomach and slowly tipped it over, allowing more liquid to trickle down.

Your toes curled, the hot temperature added a thrill that shot sparks straight through you. When Jason brought up the idea of trying out wax into the bedroom, you were apprehensive – at first. After he explained how it would happen, how he would make sure you were alright, you agreed.

And damn, were you glad you did. The light touches he made along the curve of your body, the sweet kisses he placed on your chest as he massaged your skin with oil, and the whispered encouragement – all in preparation for the melted wax – made your body burn with arousal. Once he began pouring it over you, you were so strung up that any slight droplet made you shudder. You were sure that once he reached the apex of your thighs, it wouldn’t take long before you fell over the edge.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he whispered. “So good.” He put the jar down on the bedside table, moving on the bed to admire the masterpiece in front of him. The hardened wax created an abstract display as it covered your chest, your stomach, running down the sides of your torso and onto the old bed sheet. His finger traced one trail, the pressure cracking the solidified substance. With the heat of the wax heightening your sensitivity, just a touch of his fingers forced a gasp from you.

His palm found the swell of your chest, destroying the artwork as the wax further broke under his ministrations. Jason leaned down to meet your open mouth with his own, taking in your exhaled breath when his fingers twisted your pert nipple. He smiled against your lips. “Y’look so pretty like this – hands bound and like you’d do anything for me to let you come.”

All you managed was a whine in response. Your back arched into his hand, silently pleading for more as the neglected spot between your legs kept pulsing. As a display of begging for his touch, your legs fell open, one shifting to move around his waist. His hand immediately wrapped around your thigh and squeezed the tender flesh, accepting your silent request for more.

Jason settled between your legs easily – something that wasn’t new in your relationship. He stroked his cock, making sure the condom was on perfectly before he brought two fingers to you and checked you were ready.

He placed his head against your entrance, rubbing against you teasingly and gathering your slick to spread along his base. The force along your clit made your hips buck into the feeling, pulling a chuckle from Jason’s lips.

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured, his voice carrying a honeyed tone before he finally pushed in. A guttural groan spilled from deep within his chest. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Jason held your legs against his chest, angling your hips up so the backs of your thighs laid flush against his stomach with each thrust. The feel of his thick cock hitting your cervix as he bottomed out with every movement made your eyes slide shut and your mouth pull open. You were sure you looked absolutely debauched, covered in candle wax and sweat.

With your hands tied, you couldn’t reach down to touch your neglected clit so you whimpered, opening your eyes to see Jason already watching your face, his eyes dark with hair plastered to his forehead.

“Jay, I need–” Your words broke off, a moan escaping when he thrust especially hard. Jason didn’t need any further explanation – one hand reached down to rub your swollen nub as he leaned forward, the new angle allowing him to push further inside.

He took advantage of the change in position to press his lips against yours, groaning when you suckled on his tongue once it met yours. It didn’t take long before you felt the familiar ripples course through your body, your walls clenching on his length. Neither his fingers nor his hips halted in their movement. The combination during your climax only extended the sensation and your head threw back against the pillows, unsteady breaths shaking your chest.

Only when you began whimpering from overstimulation did he cease his actions, simply grinding against you to reach his own end. The fluttering of your walls against his cock were what pushed him over the edge, his body hunching further over you. His forehead rested against your shoulder, letting your legs slip down to rest against the sheets while he caught his breath.

“Wow,” he breathed out. “That was fuckin' incredible…”

You let out an airy laugh before a pained groan left your lips, shifting against the bed with your hands still bound. At the sound, Jason’s head shot up, a concerned look in his pleasure-ridden eyes.

“My back’s getting stiff. Could you..?” His hands immediately moved to untie the fabric, gently grasping your arms to pull them out from under you and to your sides. You let out a relieved sigh at the freedom, your hands moving to massage the stiff muscles.

“That was so much better than I thought it would be,” your tired voice carried a hint of glee at how good the whole experience was. Besides the sore arms, at least.

Jason pulled out of you, groaning from his own sensitivity, before grabbing a warm towel by the bed and wiping you down. When the rough towel touched your clit, your body tensed and a whine involuntarily escaped. “Sorry,” he muttered.

He moved up your body and to the hardened wax trails, the pieces removing easily with the earlier oil massage. In a matter of a minute, your body was clear from the previous session, and you simply laid there, allowing yourself to soak in the remaining euphoria. You opened your eyes, shifting your gaze to your boyfriend who was throwing away the gathered wax into the trash bin by the door.

You appreciatively took in the view of his back, his ass, the thickness of his thighs–

“Like what you see?” He was turned toward you now, giving you the pleasure of seeing the expanse of his chest, his firm abdomen, and especially his di–

“Always,” you quipped, a cheeky grin on your face.

He traveled the few feet to the bed, bending down to place a sweet kiss on your welcoming lips. “Want me to draw up a bath, sweetheart?”

At your approving hum, he left the room and soon the sound of running water entered the room. A content smile filled your face, loving just how good your boyfriend always treated you. Your mind wandered to what else he might suggest – if it was as good as this, you’d readily accept. Butterflies filled your stomach in anticipation of what might be next. With Jason, you knew you didn’t have to worry – especially when he knew just how to love you right.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #wax play #smut

301 notes · View notes

goosewriting · 1 year

Note

Mikey with blue prompt 1 and 32, trying to teach the reader how to make cookies but they're uh... Not. That good at it lmao. But they keep trying and it ends with them making a pretty good batch!

Vanilla extract (rottmnt Mikey x reader)

prompt 1: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone screw something up that fast before.” prompt 32: “Do you take constructive criticism?” “Not without crying.”

summary: Mikey and reader bake cookies together, but reader is really bad at it.

relationship: Rise!Mikey x GN reader

warnings: reader being a danger in the kitchen lmao

word count: 1.2k

A/N: (this one can be read as both platonic or romantic!) as someone who really likes baking cookies, this hurt a little to write XD also enjoy the currently tumblr-relevant little joke höhö

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

– – –

Mikey and you had decided to bake cookies, which you had never done before. You had actually never baked anything before, and you weren’t exactly an ace in the kitchen. So he was more than happy to teach you. He even had the recipe book open on the counter so you could check the instructions with him. After all, how hard could it be?

“First things first” Mikey says, as you both finish tying your aprons. “We need to measure all the ingredients.”

And that’s when disaster already hit.

You had never really handled flour before, so you flipped the package over with a little too much force, causing a lot of flour to spill onto the counter instead of into the measuring cup. Mikey was quick to tell you it wasn’t a big deal, and wiped the surface with a damp cloth, instructing you to either go slower or use a big spoon to get the powder out bit by bit.

After the dry ingredients were all measured and standing on the counter in their individual bowls, it was time to mix them up. You remembered Mikey mentioning that the dry and the wet ingredients had to be mixed separately first before combining them. So you grab the sugar and are about to pour it into the flour, when Mikey stops you.

“It’s actually better to mix up the sugar with the butter” he points out. “It makes the butter fluffier.”

Now you’re even more confused; how would that even work?

Following the turtle’s instructions, you first mashed up the butter with a fork, then put that and the sugar into the stand mixer. You turned on the machine, but the dials were opposite of how you thought, so you set it to the maximum speed. That not only almost broke the mixer, but it also sent the bowl and its contents flying. You sheepishly cleaned up the mess and measured out more sugar, while Mikey told you not to worry about it for the second time that day.

When the butter was all mixed with the sugar, it was time to add the eggs. You were about to reach out for one when Mikey stepped in and said he’d do it himself. Fidgeting with a spoon in your hands, you watched as he skillfully cracked them open, the yolk and whites falling into the bowl in an almost elegant way that you felt was intended to mock you. He didn’t get a single eggshell piece into the batter either.

After mixing everything together (now that you knew how to properly operate the stand mixer), Mikey handed you a little bottle that read “vanilla extract”. You opened the bottle, giving it a sniff, and hummed in delight at how good that smelled.

“Hey, look at me” Mikey suddenly said in a serious tone, grabbing you by the shoulders. “One tablespoon, not more. You understand? Just a couple of drops is all it takes.”

You nodded and did as he said, adding only a small spoonful of the thick liquid to the batter. After closing the bottle, you looked at the spoon for probably a second too long, because Mikey snatched it from your hand.

“You don’t want to lick that, trust me” he said with a chuckle. “You’ll regret it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. It smelled so wonderful! Of course you wanted to lick it. It surely tasted just as good right?

But your plan couldn't come to fruition as Mikey was already starting the next step. He added some chocolate chips, mixed it a little more, then sifted the flour into the batter. He first folded it in with a wooden spatula, then with his hands.

Taking out the dough, he skillfully kneaded it on the counter, and you wondered how many times he had done this before, he clearly knew what he was doing. With the rolling pin he flattened it all to a cookie-worthy thickness and stepped aside to make place for you.

“Would you do the honours?” he asked, handing you a container with several cookie cutters.

You squealed in glee at all the cute designs, and chose one in the shape of a sea turtle. Surely this was the easiest, impossible-to-mess-up part, right?

Mikey first observed you with happiness, content that he could teach you something new. But with every passing second, his expression turned to horrified confusion. Somehow, and he still couldn’t understand how, every single piece of dough you had cut out, came out looking like anything other than a turtle. Even when you switched to the regular circular cookie cutter, the cookies you were scooping up from the counter looked like disfigured sad little blobs. Before he could stop himself, he mumbled under his breath.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone screw something up that fast before.”

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. You gasped, giving him a hurt look, then looking back at your handiwork in front of you, and you pouted: he was absolutely right.

“But hey, we came this far!” Mikey tried to comfort you. “They don’t have to look perfect, as long as they taste good; that just means they’re homemade! All that’s left is to bake them.”

So you did, except that you forgot to set the timer for the cookies in the oven while you were cleaning up the kitchen. You both got distracted talking about a game, and as you were taking out your phone to show it to him, he sniffed the air.

“Say, how much longer on the timer?” Mikey asked and craned his neck over your shoulder to look at the oven in horror.

“Whoops” is all that you managed to answer, before you both rushed to save whatever you could of your precious baked goods. Mikey quickly slipped the oven mitts over his hands and opened the glass door, a concerning cloud of smoke erupting from behind it. Taking the baking tray and placing it on the stove, you both stood silently before it, staring at the practically carbonised little blobs on it.

“Hey, it’s fine~” Mikey suddenly said, one arm over your shoulder while his other reached out to grab a cookie. You couldn’t stop him in time, as he had already popped one in his mouth. The crunching that came from his chewing mouth was as concerning as it was horrifying. You could only watch in shock as he actually gulped it down.

“Hmm” he sighed, rubbing his chin in thought. “Do you take constructive criticism?”

“Not without crying” you answered, and your shoulders slumped. How could you mess this up so badly?

Mikey chuckled and pulled you in for a hug, giving your cheek a little peck, which made you feel a little better. He then suggested making a new batch, but this time he made sure to give you more detailed instructions and guide you through every step. That new batch actually turned out really well, and you enjoyed your well-deserved prize with some hot chocolate.

– – –

Bonus:

You were sitting at the table with the rest of the turtles, all eating your cookies and complimenting you on how good they had turned out, when you remembered something. Excusing yourself for a second to go get more hot chocolate, you stepped back into the kitchen, and reached for the vanilla extract bottle. You gave it another whiff, enjoying the smell, and poured some drops onto a spoon. As soon as you put it in your mouth however, you immediately regretted it. Mikey was right: this tasted awful. Going “Ew! How?!” followed by coughing, you heard a laugh from the other room, and Mikey’s voice: “I told you so!”

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @hearteyedracoon, @maribatshipper, @whygz, @xnorthstar3x

#goose feathers #500 goslings event #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #michelangelo x reader #tmnt 2018

136 notes · View notes