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biblicallyaccuratethespian · 11 months

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Watched Across the Spiderverse, got hooked, wrote fic, made fanart that went with fic. Tale as old as time. Enjoy!

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Dammit.

Dammit!

Gwen threw her mask off on what should have been Miles’ bed. Her Miles’ bed. But it wasn’t, just like all the other ones she’d tried and tried for hours. It wasn’t like Miles would only be in his room, or his apartment. He could be anywhere in New York. God, he could be anywhere in New York. How could she have been so stupid?

Before, she could sense him from universes away. Now, she couldn’t sense him at all.

You were right, Gwen.

You should have never come to see me.

Gwen bit back tears. The look he’d given her before falling off the highway in Nueva York was burned into her memory. He was mad at her, he had been betrayed by her, and she couldn’t fucking find him. He was in danger, and she would be the last person he would reach to for help.

Bzzzzzzzzzz.

She jumped out of her stupor. This was a familiar spidey-sense-buzz, Miles was here! He—

Wait.

No, he wasn’t.

Her heart sank. It was close, tantalizingly close. But it wasn’t Miles. This was a different spider’s signal.

“—someone in there.”

And they were coming this way.

Though it was late, she couldn’t just blend into the shadows. Miles’ room was all packed up, his furniture wrapped in plastic, his action figures stuffed into boxes. It wasn’t like she could turn invisible. New plan: she scrambled to the window, fiddling for the lock — and came up empty. But this window opens. She’d opened it before, and this was the exact same— no, it wasn’t.

“—my old room—”

It wasn’t the exact same place, it was an alternate dimension. Of course. And in this specific dimension, the windows don’t open, so she’ll never be able to make it out before—

“Excuse me?”

BZZZZZZZZZZZ!!

Her fellow spiders had arrived. Standing in the doorway was a woman in her late twenties, with longish bleach-blonde hair, and a man about the same age with thick locs and glasses. Who looked exactly like Miles.

A little too much like Miles.

“Whoa.” The man looked shocked. “Another Spider-Person! You look… exactly like Gwen. Why do you look exactly like Gwen? Did you have a sister you never told me about, or—”

“No, of course not.” The woman — also Gwen, said, assessing the situation. She was also named Gwen? She kinda looked like her… wait, if he looked and sounded a lot like Miles, and she looked and sounded a lot like Gwen, then…

Oh, god. It was her and Miles. From an alternate dimension.

“I’m not crazy, right? You see it too?” The man, no, Other-Miles, gestured with his hands just like her Miles did. Does.

“Yep,” she said. She turned her attention back to Gwen. “Sorry, are you… me?”

“Yes! And also no.” She shuffled her feet, not knowing what else to do. “So, yeah. I am Gwen Stacy, Spider-Woman… from a different dimension.”

A moment of silence. They looked at each other. They looked back at her. “Oh. Okay.”

“Wow, you guys are remarkably chill with this.”

Other-Miles put a hand around Other-Gwen’s waist. A pang of feelings hit Gwen’s gut like a brick. He could just do that in this universe? “Well,” he said, “we’ve been Spider-Man and Woman for like… twelve years now, so we’re used to weird shit.”

“Yep.”

“Cool, um… so, I’m sure you both are wondering why I’m here right now,” she said with half-assed finger guns.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Okay, so.” She sat crosslegged on the room’s bed. “Multiverse is real. A bunch of Spider-people from a whole bunch of universes got together to protect the multiverse.”

Other-Miles sits beside her. “And they didn’t invite us?”

…

Even he got a watch?

God, even though he’s half-joking, Other-Miles’ questioning almost makes Gwen burst into tears. Of course every multiversal version of Miles Morales wants to be invited. Wants to be visited. Wanted to know why his friends didn’t visit.

Other-Gwen raises an eyebrow. Gwen swallows hard, willing her eyes to stop burning. “Only issue, the leader of this alliance is this guy named Miguel, who is insane. He’s so scared of disrupting the multiverse, when it’s really this guy, Spot, who does it with his portals. Spot is this villain guy, by the way. Ruptures holes in space-time. Anyway, Miles…”

Other-Miles squints quizzically. She swallows hard. “My Miles isn’t even from my dimension. I accidentally got launched into his through science shenanigans, we met, and we just… clicked.”

Other-Gwen sits at Other-Miles’ feet, holding his hands. “That sounds awfully familiar.”

He laughs. Gwen hurts a little more.

“But we were separated. Each back to our own universe. Anyway, months pass. My dad tried to… arrest me after I revealed my spider-ness to him, and I was terrified, but Miguel took me in. I got a watch that let me transport between universes, and… and I wanted to visit Miles so badly… but I didn’t.”

Gwen covered her mouth and turned away. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Why not?” It was Other-Gwen. She'd laid a hand on her knee, ready to listen.

God, she's a saint.

“Because Miguel said he was an anomaly, and I wasn’t allowed to,” Gwen said, choking up. “He wasn’t supposed to be Spider-Man in his universe, even though he’s a great Spiderman.” Her floodgates open. “Like, he’s just so kind, and gentle, and he puts other people before himself, sometimes too much, and he’s just so sweet.”

Gwen sobbed for a moment. She caught the two of them exchanging another glance. They each took one of her hands, and Other-Miles slides off the bed to match his partner.

“And I had that watch for months and I didn’t visit him. Then, when I finally did, I didn’t tell him why I didn’t visit, or that I was actually on a mission or anything. I just showed up, and, and he looked so happy, but when he stood up to Miguel and stuff he found out everything, and he, he…” Gwen wiped her tears on her shoulder. “You should have seen how hurt he looked. I’ve given him so much pain. I even chased him, tried to get him put in jail because he was an anomaly, and that’s just what happens to anomalies. He was one of the best friends I’ve ever had, and I just… I just chased him. Didn’t go to him when he needed me most, didn’t support him when he needed me most, and now, he’s somewhere in the multiverse, and he’s in danger, and I can’t find him, and I don’t know if he’d even want me looking for him!”

Gwen ripped her hands from theirs and pounded the bed before curling into a ball and grabbing her hair. “I’m such an idiot. I… I don’t know where he is, or if he’s safe or anything. Maybe he won’t even talk to me…”

In every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spider-Man.

Whether she meant falling to her death or falling in love, she wasn’t sure.

And, in every other universe, it doesn’t end well.

No, it certainly didn’t.

“I’m so sorry,” Other-Miles said after a little while. “C’mere.”

Then, Other-Miles and Other-Gwen took her by the forearms, pulled her off the bed, and into a hug.

Gwen couldn't help but collapse.

After so many hours of tension, Gwen finally relaxed. Into the hug, and into her sobs. They just held her and held her as she cried and cried. Something inside Gwen rejected this. She doesn’t deserve kindness, not after everything she’s done. Miles needs this hug much more than she does. Wherever the hell he is.

If he lets her, she would want to hug him exactly like this.

Other-Gwen rubbed circles on her back. “You must have been holding onto this for a long time. You must be so scared.”

Gwen just nods.

Other-Gwen leans out of the hug. “Why don’t we figure it out over some tea?”

Gwen wiped away her tears, finally taking in the world around her. “Isn’t it, like, midnight for you guys right now?”

“Nah, it’s about eleven.” Other-Miles hopped to his feet and twirled towards the door, finger-guns blazing. “Don’t worry, I’ll make the two of us decaf.”

————————--

“Kingpin brought you to his world?” Other-Gwen said, listening intently. The two of them had insisted she stayed for a while and tell them her whole life story, despite her protests that she clearly must keep going, and no, she’s not going to burn out, thank you very much.

“Yep! I mean, he ran the supercollider. He didn’t mean to bring me in. Anyway, somehow, when I was launched from the portal, I emerged into Miles’ dimension a week before the collider had even run.”

“You time-travelled?” Other-Miles’ voice echoed from the kitchen.

“I guess? I still have no idea how it happened. But I appear in this new dimension, and, of course, I have no idea what happened or what to do. So, I let my spidey-sense guide me.”

“Spideysense?” Other-Gwen asked.

From the kitchen: “I told you that was a good name for it!”

“Yeah, the entire rest of the Spiderverse calls it spidey-sense.”

“Fine, you win this one. We’ll call it spidey-sense.” Other-Gwen sighed. “Am I the only one who feels like this is ridiculous?”

“Yup,” he said, popping the p. “Continue, little Gwen.”

“Little Gwen?”

“Yeah, to differentiate."

“I’m not little,” she said with a huff. “I’m sixteen.”

“Well, I’m twenty-five, so… little Gwen.” She patted her head.

Is it too early for me to want her to adopt me so BADLY?

“You were saying, you travelled back in time, didn’t know what to do,—”

“Yeah, and so, I let my spidey-sense guide me to this one hoity-toity academy in Brooklyn… you guys have Brooklyn, right? Yeah, so I’m just at this academy and…” She tucked some hair behind her ear. “I meet him. Miles. He was funny and kind, and… like I said, we just clicked.”

“And, like I said, sounds awfully familiar.” she said, smiling. “How long have you guys been together for?”

“Oh! Um, we’re not actually together together, y’know? We’re more… friends right now, we haven’t really, um…” her face felt really hot all of a sudden. “Are you two… dating?”

“Dating? We’re not dating.”

Gwen felt utterly stupid. Then why were they living together? In Miles’ parent’s apartment, no less? Other-Gwen brought her hand up beside her face and wiggled her fingers, showing off a beautiful ring on her—

Oh.

“You two are MARRIED?!” Gwen still felt stupid, just in a different way. “You guys can just… live together.”

“Yeah.”

“And have been for a long time.”

“Our second anniversary is in a month.”

“Without any tragic consequences.”

Other-Gwen raised an eyebrow. “…yes.”

So, all this time, there was a universe where Gwen Stacy and Miles Morales, Spider-Man, lived happily ever after? Where Gwen Stacy survived long enough to get married? Where she never had to worry about being too close to somebody, as it would inevitably end in tragedy?

She hadn’t realized she started crying again until Other-Gwen pulled her in. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Gwen opened her mouth to speak but figured it wasn’t very helpful to tell this Gwen that most of the multiverse’s Gwen Stacies are dead. “I don’t know,” she settled with, “everything.”

The electric kettle let out a chorus of dings from the kitchen. “Well, if you’re crying at the thought of us getting married,” said Other-Miles, grabbing various tea supplies from the cupboards, “Imagine being me, at the end of that aisle, realizing I was about to marry that goddess of a woman right there.”

Other-Gwen smiled and rolled her eyes. “Honey!”

“What? You were there! I was blubberin’ like a baby! I was tryin’ to hold myself together during the vows but I was really falling apart—”

Gwen slapped a hand on her mouth to stop another sob, which, of course, didn’t work. They were married. They’d made vows to each other. All her guilt somehow swirled into pure heartache.

“Aw, c’mere.” Other-Gwen put her arms around her again.

Other-Miles appeared with two mugs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel upset.” He handed her one. “Here.”

Gwen hesitated. “Is this—”

“English Breakfast with a spoonful of honey?”

“How did you know?”

He only smiled. “Plus a squeeze of lemon juice.”

“Why not milk?” Gwen smirked. “I usually have milk?”

Other-Gwen put a hand on her shoulder somberly. “You’re gonna want to lay off the milk around now. Your gut will thank you.”

“But I’m not lactose— I’m not lactose intolerant.”

Other-Gwen grimaced. She brought her voice down to a whisper, “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

Gwen took a moment of silence for all the cheeses, yogurts, and other treats she’d have to discontinue from her diet. Then, she realized that was stupid and there were bigger things at stake here.

They must have also gotten that memo. “Okay,” said Other-Miles, “What’s the plan here, little Gwen?”

She took a sip of her tea. It was perfect. “So, Margo, a.k.a. Spiderbyte, a.k.a. Tech Wiz Extraordinaire, is trying to remotely gain access to the Go-Home Machine’s history in order to find out where Miles went. In the meantime, the group of us have split up in an effort to find him more manually. As evident, it hasn’t worked. So, we’re just gonna keep hoping through universes until we find him.”

“That’s a good plan…” he said, “I think, I don’t know a few of those words. I was thinking more about the plan of talking to your Miles.”

She sighed. “Yeah, that’s the part I’m sort of dreading.”

“Forgive us for getting to the personal side, but you can’t blame us for really hoping you two work out.” Other-Gwen put down her mug, then clapped her hands. "So, you kept things secret from him. That’s in the past. Can you change the past?”

“…No.”

“What can you change?”

Gwen sighed. “The future.”

“Exactly. I know it’s difficult not to— did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“No, it’s just—”

“Just what?” Other-Gwen raised an eyebrow. It was the Jessica-Jones look, the Rio-Morales look, the look that burned into you from the inside out.

Gwen pulled into herself. “It’s just that… I don’t know, everyone keeps telling me that. But it doesn’t mean it works.”

“You sure you don’t want to give it another try?”

“Ugh, I’ve already given it a thousand tries.”

Other-Gwen opened her mouth to reprimand but stopped herself with a deep breath. “Okay, if that won’t work, let’s try a different approach. Let’s look at apologizing like it’s…” She scanned the room for inspiration, then lit up. “Like it’s a ballet!”

She took Gwen’s hands and yanked her to her feet. Twenty-five-year-old Gwen Stacy may have been stockier, but boy, was she buff. Are those the biceps I’m gonna have when I get older? Gwen thought. Damn.

“Okay. Imagine you’re onstage, or in the studio, whatever makes you more comfortable.”

Gwen started stretching from top to bottom in a routine she’d done a million times. She hadn’t done ballet in a while, being Spider-Woman and all. It felt nice to return to some sense of normalcy.

“We’re gonna get into first.” Other-Gwen put her shoulders back and heels together. “After all, what’s the first step of ballet?”

Gwen mirrored her pose. “Getting a good physical therapist.”

“Hardy har. What’s the second step of ballet, then?”

“Having confident feet.”

“Right. ‘Cause if you don’t know where your feet are…”

“You’ll never make it as a dancer.”

Other-Gwen broke from her refined pose. “…that’s the way your teacher phrased it?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“That’s sad. Anyway, it’s your foundation. You need’em, otherwise, you’re not going anywhere. It’s the same with apologizing,” she said, putting her feet in second position and fixing her posture. “Let’s establish the facts, let’s plant our feet. What are the facts behind this?”

Gwen moved to second position. “I hurt Miles.”

“Try a different fact. Try third. What happened?”

To third. “I was accepted into the Spider Society, and got a watch with the ability to transport to multiple universes, including his. But when I got the watch, I was told not to visit, as he was a threat to the multiverse. So I didn’t — for months.”

“Move to fourth.”

To fourth. “When I finally got a mission to Earth-1610, his universe, I broke protocol and visited him. But I didn’t tell him I was on a mission, or that he was deemed an anomaly, or,” to fifth, “that someone close to him was supposed to die, and he was supposed to let it happen.”

“He was supposed—” Other-Gwen’s eyes widened. “You didn’t even tell us that happened. That’s fucked. Sorry, screwed up.”

“You don’t have to— yeah.” Gwen pliéd from fifth. ”I can’t believe I didn’t tell him. Every single person in the Spider Society, including me, believed that death had to happen for the multiverse to stay together, and he was the only person who fought against it.”

“Can confirm that that’s seriously fucked up,” said Other-Miles, not looking up from his sketchbook. “Oh, by the way, I just got this out, I hope you don’t mind. Yeah, totally fucked. I’d do the same if it were me.”

Other-Gwen moved back to first. “Did you try and stop him?”

She sighed. “Yes. Because I thought that if I didn’t, the multiverse would fall apart. Which it wouldn’t, I see how little sense it makes now.”

“Sounds like you’re ready to set it up for the pirouette,” Other-Gwen said with a small smile, bringing a foot forward. “Remember, the guilt may be eating you up from the inside, but you hurt him. Not that your feelings don’t matter, they absolutely do. It’s just that his feelings are the ones being prioritized right now.”

“So, something like…” Gwen brings her foot forward to match. “I wanted to protect you, but, in doing so, I made you feel unwanted. No, not unwanted. I made you feel betrayed, alone, and not good enough.”

“Okay, now you follow through.”

She sets up for the pirouette. “I didn’t mean to make you feel this way—”

“Try it again. Put his feelings first.”

Gwen got ready for another pirouette. But she couldn’t continue. “…I don’t really know what to say.”

“Just follow through with what you said before. Do another spin.”

“Uh… I made you feel terrible about yourself, and that wasn’t okay.” She touched down from the pirouette and began doing all kinds of jumps and footwork, letting her muscle memory lead the way. “You don’t deserve that. You deserved to know the truth about everything from the start. You deserved a civil conversation on an equal playing field about what was going to happen. You deserved to have a say.”

Other-Gwen backed away, leaving the living room floor to her variant. Gwen fell into the routine from one of her old shows — step, touch, kick, touch. “I’m sorry, Miles, for everything. For not telling you what I should’ve.” Step, step, jump. “For not considering your point of view.” Step, jump. “For not believing you.” Step, touch, step. “For betraying your trust when you needed it most.”

…

Other-Miles and Other-Gwen looked on. “Well,” Other-Gwen said after a moment, “where’s the rest of the routine?”

“Oh, uh,” Gwen said, falling from her practiced pose, “after this is the leap. Where I jump to my dance partner and they catch me. Oh my God, wait. Wait, wait.”

“What?”

“That’s such a neat coincidence. A leap at the end. A leap of faith.”

Other-Miles gasped. “That’s such good symbolism! The leap of faith! ‘Cause this whole thing is a— whoa.”

“You do leap at the end of this, don’t you? Well, just remember. The dance partner, in this case, is you.” Other-Gwen put a supportive hand on her shoulder. “You’ve got to remember to catch yourself on the way down. You’re not a monster. You’ve made a mistake, but you’re not a terrible person. That is evident by how you’re working on yourself and making a promise to change your behaviour later.”

“Wow,” Gwen said. “Where’d you learn all this?”

“Therapy.”

“Oh.”

“Also,” said Other-Miles, “give him some time to figure it all out. Don’t expect an answer right away.”

“You can afford therapy for the both of you? In NYC?”

“Eh, we kinda flicker in and out when we can.” He put down his sketchbook. “It’s more like I like having time to work my thoughts out, and… y’know, I’m Miles, he’s Miles.” He splayed his fingers and mashed them together to emphasize his point of being one and the same.

“That is helpful. Thank you.” She took a deep breath in. “Thank you both, honestly, so much. I feel a lot better now and am filled with a lot less dread.”

“Hooray for less dread!” Said Other-Miles from the couch. He was back to being nose-deep in his sketchbook, felt-tip-pen behind the ear and everything.

Gwen smiled. Some things never change.

“Well, little Gwen,” Big Gwen said, ruffling her hair, “You got any more personal problems you need help working out, or do you just want to sit and finish your tea?”

She plunked herself back on the couch. “I don’t know, do you guys have any more… helpful pieces of advice? I guess?”

“Hm…” Other-Gwen picked up her tea and took a sip. “Here: It’s Mr. Morales and Mrs. Morales. Until at least a year of dating."

“Yeah, Gwennie found out the hard way that you don’t casually call my parents by their first names. They’re kinda sticklers for that.” He took his brush pen out from behind his ear and put the cap on it. “You haven’t met them yet, right?”

She pursed her lips. “No, I haaaaaaaave.”

“And did you—“ he said. Gwen nodded. “Oh. Oh no.”

Other-Gwen was quick to stop that negative thought spiral. “Hey, don’t worry, don’t worry. There’s still plenty of time for a better impression, so just apologize the next time you see them and it should all turn out okay.”

“I have another question, kind about that, but it may be a bit weird.”

“Ask away.”

"Are they — the Moraleses — both… alive in your universe? Like, why do you guys have their place?”

“God, little Gwen, how has your universe been treating you? Yes, they’re both alive. My dad was caught in some rubble one time, but he’s fine now. He just needs a wheelchair to get around, so the elevator breaking down every now and again wasn’t just an inconvenience anymore.”

“But by the time that happened, we’d been talking about moving in together anyway, so they just moved downstairs.” Her smile softened. “You can go say hi to them if you want, they know about the Spider stuff.”

“And is my dad— our dad— forget it. Is Captain Stacy alive?”

“Captain Stacy? Pffft.” Other-Gwen rolled her eyes. “He’s a math teacher.”

Gwen’s head was spinning now. Not only was there a universe where her and Miles were living together, happily married, but Captains Morales and Stacy were alive.

Miguel’s theory was bullshit.

Miguel’s theory was bullshit!

“What theory? What’s wrong?” Said Other-Miles, grabbing her forearm.

Shit. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Her mind had been suitably blown tonight, but she didn’t want this Miles to know his father was supposed to die, or tell this Gwen their relationship working out perfectly was a statistical miracle.

But they both were looking at her expectantly, with all the openness in the world. Maybe these two didn’t need to beat up their villains. Maybe they just talked them out of it.

But before Gwen could explain everything, her watch dinged, with a message.

From Margo.

“She’s found him! Earth-42!” She jumps from the couch and begins fiddling with Hobie’s watch.

“They found him?”

BWOOSH! A collage-like portal appears in front of her. “Yep!”

Other-Miles and Other-Gwen ignore all the swirling junk and newsprint that used to be their living room. They just stand and look at her.

“What?”

Other-Gwen smiles sheepishly. “Can we get one last thing before you go?”

“I guess, uh-OOF!” They pull her in for one more hug.

“Sorry, couldn’t letcha leave without one,” she says.

He gives her a kiss on the forehead, and they both let go. “Good luck out there, little Gwen.”

Gwen smiles. “Thank you for the tea. And everything else.”

Other-Gwen gives her a two-fingered salute. “No problem, Spider-Woman.”

“Now, go kick some ass!”

“Miles.”

“And give a meaningful apology. But don’t forget to kick ass on the way,” he said with a wink.

Gwen snorts. “Of course.”

She gives her multiverses selves a wave. God, this day has been wild. She leaps into the portal headfirst. She leaps like she’s onstage in a ballet, performing a routine she’d rehearsed thousands of times. She leaps with the knowledge that her dance partner will be right there to catch her.

In every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spider-Man.

And, in every other universe, it is beautiful.

———————--

Both of them wait until the portal’s been closed for a few moments before saying anything.

The living room is a mess. The door to Miles’ old room is open. There’s an extra mug on the ottoman.

Other than that, there’s no record that all that was all real.

“What the fuck,” is all she can say.

Miles flops on the couch. “Oh my God, Gwen.”

“What the… even for Spider-people standards, that was— whew! That was so weird!”

“Gwen—”

“There’s another you, and another me, and we’re teenagers, and angsty as hell, and there’s a whole bunch of other Spiderpeople, some fuck named Miguel who’s screwing it all up, a- and the multiverse is collapsing?” She sighed. “Also, the multiverse is real, that’s new.”

“…Gwennie?”

Miles was looking up at her with those puppy-dog eyes — the same look when he first told her he wanted to marry her, and when he did marry her — a look with so much love it almost made her sick.

It didn’t take much these days.

“What’s wrong, honeybun?” She sat down next to him, and their arms gravitated around each other. Just like flips and death-defying maneuvers, having each other close was an instinctual reflex.

He let the silence hang as his eyes grew glossy. He grabbed his sketchbook and passed it to her.

Inside was a pen-and-marker sketch of her and Little Gwen. They were in matching poses, mid-pirouette-prep. He’d perfectly captured the warm moment — not that she didn’t think he could. Her thoughts about his art were what she always thought.

“Amazing, just amazing.” She turned her head up to him. “What’re gonna call it?”

He leaned back to look at her. “What about The Moment I Fell in Love With My Wife All Over Again, ink on paper.”

“You say that every time!” She said, giggling.

“And I mean it every time! I’m serious, I…” he waited for her to calm down, then quickly realized it was to no avail. “I was watching you two from the couch, and you just looked like a natural up there. Helping her with stuff, talking her through it, speaking her language…”

He rested a hand on her stomach. “And I guess it just hit me, like… that’s gonna be you and me… forever… in like, what, half a year?”

“Yeah, it is.” She kissed him on the nose. “And don’t discredit the job you did out there.”

He chuckled. “I mean, if a Miles had come through the portal I could have been a little more helpful…” He closed his sketchbook. “But it was a Gwen. And she needed a Gwen.”

The sun had long since set over the Brooklyn skyline. It was there, out the window, where the portal once stood. The day had been fairly normal until Little Gwen had showed up, but it ended like so many days did — with her head on his shoulder and his arm around her waist.

“God,” said Miles, in that low whisper that spelt safety, “I think I could make a million paintings about how I feel about everything and you right now, and it wouldn’t nearly be enough.”

She squirmed to one side to get a good look at him. “Wow, Miles Morales." She poked him on the nose. “Do you have a crush on me?”

He got a sly look on his face before saying, “Abso-lute-ly, I do,” and burying her face in kisses.

#gwiles #ghostflower #atsv #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv fic #atsv fanfiction #atsv fanart #long post?#longishpost #+4k words

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babybulbasaur920 · 2 months

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Twst Boys playing Pocket Love

this might be shitty, its late and i did this in one sitting, but combined my two favorite phone game apps. Ill probably redo this when im not about to hit the floor, enjoy what you will of it

TWST boys playing Pocket Love (and my favorite ships) part one

trigger warning for internalized homophobia in Ace´s part

Heartslabyul (Cater made them all get it)

Riddle: has a nice organized house. Spends very little time playing it because he doesn't collect all the clothes and furniture. Sad that Jess only gives you a cat or dog, my boy wants a hedgehog 🙁. His house is, as you can imagine, very red, and fancy. He will take the free gifts and refuses to spend real life money. He only has 2 floors cuz he thinks it's ridiculous to go any bigger. He has the typical stuff downstairs and the second floor is all outdoors stuff. One room is just a fancy table surrounded by roses and other flowers. Only interacts with his character's partner (Floyd) when it's required for a mission or date because the dialogue is so sweet, and the teapot tyrant refuses to be a blushing mess, even alone. Also has a library, with couches and the wallpaper from the international women's day pocket surprise, he got lucky enough to get it as a free-bie. Cleans the trash in the neighborhood religiously, spans the whole around his house. Wishes there was some way to penalize whoever is tossing that trash to begin with, Trey tells him the coins he gets for each piece of trash, was fined from the litterers and that seems to pacify him

Ace: Chaotic as hell, are we surprised? In the beginning he picked out a gray cat and named it Grim to annoy real Grim. Has Deuce as his character's partner but refuses to admit to any feelings beyond friendly ones. It's nearly sad how much he fights against the idea of him and Deuce (repressed gay, we have a repressed gay here), and claims it's just because Deuce is the best friend he's got, who else could live in his super awesome house? (note, it's not awesome, it's a mess). He can barely keep a room in order, cuz he has so much random stuff. Has a penchant for getting the same date items every single time so he has multiples of shit that he just puts up. Like the dragon dumpling date- he refuses to call them dates, they are hangouts dammit!-, he gets the same dragon head so now he has 7. He has them all hung up in a row in Deuce's room, cuz of course they separate rooms, so they stare at him when he sleeps.

Deuce: It's blue time baby! He enjoys the game as a relaxer and decorates it pretty simple, or tries to but he gets so many things it gets a bit cluttered, no matter how many times he uses the moving truck. Once again, is in it with Ace, and gives Ace a separate room, because he thinks having his sprite and the Ace sprite sleep together would be disrespectful when Ace is so blatant about it. Loves outdoorsy space like Riddle and has at least one room as a park, complete with a duck pond. Another one who has a cat named Grim purely to be a dick. Has a room devoted to vehicles, and even has a road patterned floor, is bi and proud so he doesn't mind that the road and the cars are all rainbow-y since they come from the pride parade date.

Trey: You know the two most done up rooms in his house are the kitchen and the bathroom. Sad he can't actually bake but the pancake minigame satisfies that urge for him. Collects the clothes he likes but lets Cater do the dressing up stuff for him. Tries to keep it simple and fun. For the bit he googles ¨ normal things to have in a house¨, cuz he's normal. Totally normal, run of the mill, average. Totally. Has some rooms that are ¨weird¨, like what appears to be the waiting room for a dentist office, and one that seems to be a cellar, with the wine glass chair and buckets of berries. Actually, the 2nd one isnt that weird

Cater: Do I have to say it? Aesthetic king! Always dresses him and Trey up so fly, is sure to change outfits everyday. Spends $20 a month on this thing because he has to have all the fresh new furniture from the pocket surprises. Both loves and hates how affectionate the characters are, he feels that he can't really have that and Trey only sees him as a friend. Someone just love this boy, he needs it. His favorite date is the cat cafe one cuz its cool and trendy but also fairly romantic, and coffee shops carry not-sweet food, like bagels, so he can actually enjoy eating there

#twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #ace trappola #deuce spade #pocket love #riddle x floyd #Ace x Deuce #Trey x Cater #headcanons #cute #gay

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riveranova · 1 year

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(A/N): Some IkePri as Roommates Headcanons, because my own roommate is making me want to eat my cactus. :,)

The IkePri Guys as Roommates x GN! Reader - Part 1

Warnings: Nokto's a lil bit Spicy, honestly mostly crack

Characters: Gilbert, Silvio, Keith, Sariel, Rio, Clavis, Notko, Ikemen Prince

Word count: 1.044

Gilbert von Obsidian

honestly, menace

i'm 100% sure that he does not know how to cook

doesn't he like to poison peoples food? yeah.

but like, hes not doing it on purpose - he has this really cool game of thrones cookbook which he uses for almost all his meals

hes having three mental breakdowns and calls his mother two times which results in her just not answering the phone anymore

has no problem with asking you for help tho

when you enter the kitchen you have to look twice at what he made

,,Idk why it's so orange, I didn't even use orange ingredients!''

You get my point

otherwise hes actually very nice to you

hes still the kind of guy who would laugh his ass off if you fell before helping you up

hes keeping a clean room and follows the cleaning plan for your apartment

i imagine him to get cold SO easily - like you'd rather catch this man dead than with an open window in winter

80/100 would roommate again

Silvio Ricci

*sigh*

the complete opposite of Gilbert

hes using those italian roots

dont you fucking dare cook without him because lo' and behold, this man cooks like he worked with Gordon Ramsay his entire life

he insists on wearing his rings tho no matter what hes cooking which results in him cursing like a sailor every five minutes

husband material in the kitchen

the rest,,, not so much

i imagine that he does clean but like BARE minimum

like, the barest - the line is ON THE FLOOR

vacuuming the floor but not under furniture, that bad

he doesnt get why, he never sees it anyways and he has better things to do

i think his rooms smells very good, like eros from versace

problem is, it smells A LOT

so now your entire apartment smells like eros from versace

if you have a sensitive nose, I'm sorry for you

60/100 would roommate again

Keith Howell

okay so lets say Keith is uh,,, less fucked up

he mostly keeps to himself but if he needs something, he asks you

you don't know how he does it but you never hear a peep out of his room - as if he just sleeps 90% of the day

hey, maybe he does - i could almost relate

if you guys get along well, hes actually a really sweet man

his actions speak louder than his words tho

you need something build? ask Keith! you need something carried up (or down) the stairs? ask Keith! there is a fucking huge spider in your room? ...run, because Keith wouldnt touch that thing for the life of him

i imagine that hes as quiet as he is because my man is studying

straight A student but is shit at explaining things so he can't really help you

you both end up crying if he tries to exlpain math to you

80/100 would roommate again

Sariel Noir

it feels like your living with your grandma

in the most amazing way possible

dont get me wrong, i love Sariel but I'm 100% sure that this man would act like an old lady

he loves these really old tablecloths that look like this

puts them everywhere too - on your kitchentable, on the little drawer by the frontdoor and i BET the even has them on his desk

like omg little versions of them for his flowers and like little pots with random shit in them

i bet he makes them himself too

hes way to old to be a student but for the sake of this, lets say hes in his 20s

also a straight A student and, obviously, really great at tutoring

you guys share the same classes and that saved your ass more than once

he takes the tutoring seriously, very seriously

he doesnt whip you when you fail, he rather makes you do chores around the house for longer than you'd have to

90/100 would roommate again

Rio Ortiz

puppy dog boy l

i can't not see him as anything else

you guys knew each other before you moved in together

when you told him that you needed a roomie, he made sure that he would be the one moving in with you

obviously in love with you, doesnt even hide it

makes sure youre never hungry, everything is clean

i'm sure that even if you guys had a cleaning plan, he'd just clean before you have the chance to

simp

also, a yes friend

dyeing your hair? yes. cutting your hair at 2am as a result of a mental breakdown? yes. randomly rearranging your bedroom? yes.

loves to cuddle

spends a lot of time in the living room, waiting for his pray (you) to fall into his trap (the sofa) to be violenty (softly) ripped apart (cuddled)

you have to remind him to relax once in a while, hes not your butler after all

100/100 would roommate again

Clavis Lelouch

*sigh_pt.2*

i mean, at least it doesnt get boring around him

opposite of Keith, hes loud as fuck in his room

watches 'try not to laugh' challenges only to laugh 90% of the time

he loves to prank you (really now)

he once put bleach in your shampoo but ended up using it himself on accident

he played it off as planned, mastertrapper clavis doesnt fail

doesnt cook for himself, he snatches food from you

tried his hand at baking and it actually turned out good

it looked like a disaster

he ruined the taste by putting random shit in it to prank you

,,don't worry, it tastes better than it looks!!'' *hides the tuna can behind his back*

youre actually the one tutoring him

he finds studying boring af so he just doesnt do it

straight B student because the universe is unfair

his room is a mess which follows him wherever he goes

60/100 would (think twice about) roommate again-

Nokto Klein

fuckboy (in the most insulting way possible)

i cant keep defending this man

isnt home, like ever

only if he brings people home

no matter the gender, he brings them home

results in you having a lot of akward run-ins

is also really loud in his room for.. reasons

definetly tried to fuck you once and even if you say no, the flirty-teasy remarks never stop

he'd never disrespect you in any way tho

if you look past his fuckboy-self, hes actually a gentleman

if hes home, that is

helps you with homework (if hes home)

cooks you food if you dont have time (if hes home)

you dont know where he is, you guess that hes partying

hes with his family - mostly Licht

due to,,, problems,, he and Licht hat to stick together

hes still visiting bars after

40/100 would (really question myself if we) roommate again

#cybird ikemen #ikemen series #ikemen prince #nokto klein #clavis lelouch #rio ortiz #silvio ricci #sariel noir #keith howell #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri #ikepri headcanons #ikemen x reader #gn! reader

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hummingbird-of-light · 6 days

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Round 2: Twentieth story for @badthingshappenbingo ~

Title: Third Wheel

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS)

Character(s): Robert "Robbie" Scott, Female OC, Leah McCoy (mentioned)

Relationship(s): Robert "Robbie" Scott/Leah McCoy (mentioned)

Rating: M

Words: 902

Prompt: Organ Theft

Warnings: Kidnapping, Non-con Drug Use, Swearing, Ambiguous/Open Ending

(You can also find this story on AO3)

~ Third Wheel ~

When Robert "Robbie" Scott had met his girlfriend's new colleague, he hadn't been too sure what to think of her at first.

It wasn't like Samantha Lorson wasn't friendly. On the contrary, she was a really nice lass who took great care of all her patients. But something had felt kinda off about her. Robbie just hadn't been able to find out what it was.

When Samantha and Leah started to become better friends, the Scotsman had eventually shaken off the strange feeling and over time he had actually started to like the blonde nurse too.

Samantha sometimes joined them for lunch or they all went out together at the weekend. Robbie often worried that the woman would start to feel like the third wheel, hanging out with a couple, but she never said anything.

And so, in the end, everything appeared to turn out fine. Or at least Robbie had thought so.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

"Oi! Let me go!" The Scotsman's voice echoed back from the walls of the more or less empty room.

There was not much furniture – except for the operating table he was lying on of course.

Robbie tried his best to pull at his restraints once more, but it was impossible for him to move his arms or legs.

"Let me out of here!"

He didn't remember too much of the night before. He just knew that he had been out at the club with Leah and Samantha.

"Let me go!" No matter how loud Robbie screamed, no one seemed to hear him.

He was just about to try it again when suddenly a door at the end of the room opened. A switch was flipped and quickly bright light filled the room, blinding Robbie whose eyes had been adjusted to the darkness, for a moment.

"Would you please stop screaming, Rob? It's kinda useless. No one will hear you anyway."

Robbie's blood froze in his veins when he heard the familiar nickname and once his eyes got used to the light, he stared at the person, who had entered the room, with a shocked expression on his face.

"Samantha?"

The blonde nurse gave him a smile, closing the door behind her and stepping over to the operating table.

"Hey Rob. How you feeling? I see the effect of the knockout drops has worn off."

The Scotsman couldn't stop his mouth from opening in disbelief. He frowned in confusion, shaking his head.

"Wh-what? I... I don't understand. I–"

"Oh, Rob," Samantha sighed, placing one hand on the man's cheek, "you really are naïve, aren't you?"

She let her eyes wander up and down Robbie's bare body, the smile turning bigger. He was wearing nothing but his underwear. A blush crept onto the Scotsman's face.

"What kind of crazy shit is this!" Robbie demanded to know, glaring at the woman looking down at him.

Samantha just chuckled.

"Don't worry, Rob. I'm not really into guys." She turned her head and looked at a smaller table that was set up next to the operating table. "However, I'm interested in the beautiful things inside of them."

Robbie followed her gaze and almost instantly his heart stopped beating for a second.

There were... all kinds of medical tools. He pulled at his restraints again. It was useless.

"You know, Rob, right from the start I knew that I wanted you out of my way. Seeing you so close with pretty Leah... It was just so disgusting." Samantha made a face as she talked about everything. Slowly, she stepped over to the table with the tools and put on some gloves. "But I could see just how much she loves you. So, I had second thoughts."

Robbie felt his mouth go dry as he watched Samantha pick up a scalpel. It was shining in the unnatural light of the lamps.

"Of course, I still looked you up in the hospital's computer system to find out everything I need about you and your health status."

The Scotsman slowly shook his head as he listened to the nurse. This couldn't be happening! It had to be a nightmare!

"You see, selling organs is a really lucrative business. Been doing it for several years now and I need a lot of money to keep up my life's standard."

Robbie's breathing fastened and his heart started to race.

"N-nae. Y-ye cannae be serious," he muttered, horrified by the thought of what Samantha was implying. But the woman only sighed, turning back to face him.

"It's a real pity. In the end, I kinda started to like you, Rob. Unfortunately, the group I work for has a new customer." She grabbed a syringe from the table and tested if it worked. "And you are the perfect donor."

"P-please, Samantha. D-don't do this. Ye cannae do this! Wh-what about Leah? Ye cannae do this to her! Without me–"

"Shhh," Samantha whispered, placing one finger on Robbie's lips to shut him up. A crazy smile formed on her lips when she grabbed his arm and injected whatever was inside the syringe into his bloodstream. "Don't worry about Leah, Rob. I'll take good care of her once you're gone. Just go to sleep now. Tomorrow your heart will belong to someone else."

And no matter how hard he tried to fight it, eventually Robbie lost his consciousness, not knowing if he ever was to wake up again.

#bad things happen bingo #prompt: organ theft #fandom: star trek aos #fanfiction #robbie scott #female oc #leah mccoy #robbeah #whump #kidnapping #non-con drug use #swearing #open ending

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ichoosefictionalthoughts · 2 years

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Popcorn - Tasm!Peter Parker x reader

Word count - 591 A/N- i tried to make this as inclusive as possible. Talks about Peter liking women but the reader themselves is gender neutral and as inclusive as possible. I am still new to this so it is kind of short but please lemme know what you think and if you want a part two of their official date. Also I put this down as TASM because i mention Tony Hawke as a joke but other than that this could be any Peter really. If you saw me post this accidentally on my other blog - no you didnt.

________

Walking up to the door your hands were shaking - partially due to the rain but mostly due to all the pent-up feelings you had. Work had been awful, being yelled at for things out of your control and people pushing their work onto you even though you hadn’t been assigned it. You are looking for another job and have been for a while but its just so hard in New York - so many people applying to the same thing and you just can’t seem to get anywhere. You and Peter has a movie night planned, like you did every Friday, it gives you both a chance to kick off the weekend by word vomiting everything that went wrong during the week and stuffing your face with snacks. You knock on the door expecting the usual crash and bangs of Peter running into furniture before he gets to the door as usual.

This time is different however as he opens the door suddenly with a big grin on his face. “HEY I JUST FINISHED MAKING - whats wrong?” Hes on you straight away arm on either shoulder looking into your eyes. When hes this close you can really see how pretty they are, they have so much depth and pull you into a calmer state like a fuzzy blanket. Shit you forgot to speak he’s looking more worried. “I just wanted to see you - can’t friends just see each other.” His face moves into a frown. “Y/N, its not the 1950s you gotta text me or something. I could have had a lady friend over.” That made you laugh which in turn made him offended. “Peter, we both know for a fact you never have girls over. You could have anyone you wanted so you could but for the three years we have been friends you have never once been on a date.” He’s quick to reply, “sure I have.” But you’re even quicker, “Name one time, Parker. One time.”

It’s silent for a while.

“There was that one girl I took to the museum.” “Peter...that was me” “I took a girl to see the new Batman movie” “Again me” “You’re telling me those don’t count?” Hes walking away. You should feel a sense of accomplishment since you were proved right but all you feel is guilt at the tone of his voice, the slump of his shoulders, the hanging of his head. You follow behind him and put your hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him. “They don’t count because they’re me Peter. I am sure if you took anyone to those places they’d enjoy it as a date.” He turns around “...But would you?” “Would i what Peter?” He looks serious all of a sudden, a look you don’t see too often on Peter. You have only ever seen it when a guy makes you uncomfortable when you are outside together or when you make fun of Tony Hawke. “Enjoy them as a date - like you and me” Now this you didn’t expect. You came here for a venting session about how much of a dick your boss is and instead one of your closest friends is throwing curve balls. This isn’t helping the pent-up emotions at all. “I-I...yes? Yes” You are struggling to process that this is even happening let alone the fact you’re agreeing.

“Cool, I will sort something out and ask when the time is right. But I just made popcorn so do you wanna pick out the movie just now?”

#tasm!peter parkertasm!spiderman x youtasm!peter x y/ntasm!peter x readertasm!peter fluffpeter parkerpeter parker x youpeter parker x readers #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!spiderman x you #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm fanfiction #tasm fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #i choose fictional thoughts

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eristic-kaleidoscope · 1 year

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Ordinary Days Are Already Too Heavy || Byrne || Trial 2-1 || RE: Azr, AIRika, Kenshin, Arakiel, Ae-ra

Though most others had spoken up by now, one man kept his head lowered, clearly lost in thought. At least by now he seemed to be sober, despite it all. He'd been spiraling again, even if partially-registering what others around him were saying. Just enough to be able to formulate what he was about to say next.

"... Guess, uh... Guess I should start with what... a couple people vagued about already."

Byrne swallowed. It was time to own up to the piece of shit that he was, huh? And what his actions had caused. The domino he personally had set off that crumbled the tower.

"... This is my fuckin' fault. It's... I'm... the reason Lyrica went to the pharmacy. As... others already stated I uh... Yeah. I was shitfaced. Started drinking in the food court, but... Dunno, I just... didn't feel like I was done yet, so I got more and... brought it with me to the lobby. To drink and listen to music. Lyrica found me around 11:45. Mighta been drunk, but uh... wearing a watch helps."

He was decently good with time, at least. Surprising considering the level of inebriation he'd achieved that morning, like winning a gold medal for being a drunkard.

"... They uh... helped me back to my room. We talked for a bit but... when I was getting a headache, they... offered to go pick up painkillers for me. On the way to... get more of their own meds. Dunno how often they need it, but... I know they need an inhaler, so... It was probably that. They left around 1. I gave them my tablet so they could... let themself back in. But I... fuckin' conked out once I hit the bed. I... dunno, if... I hadn't fallen asleep then... maybe I woulda checked on them sooner... when they didn't get back, but... I found them at 2:15. Couldn't... bring myself to fetch people til I'd calmed down."

He exhaled, raising his head, a dark haze covering his gaze. His fault. This was his own damn fault.

"... You can blame me for all this."

Though he'd expressed the sentiment before now, somehow no one had seemed to take up the offer. Hopefully someone would. That was the kind of punishment Byrne deserved for all of this, after all. Getting off scott-free would feel wrong.

"So... the reason they were there had nothing to do with the note. Er... I... haven't actually seen it yet, since... by the time I went out to investigate I only managed to see some of the pharmacy shit. ... Handwriting. Right. Anyone got paper and a pencil?"

After glancing around, AIRika handed Byrne paper, but no pen. With a sigh, Byrne shrugged.

"Just a pen or pencil then. I'll sign something if someone's got one."

That mostly out of the way, there were a couple of other notes that had rung bells to him, of the things people had said. Not that there was much else he had to say for himself, just... things for other people.

"So... Azure, y'said the nails were messy and shit? I hadn't noticed that, but fuckin' uh.... I saw Ljunggren putting furniture together like a pro, and she apparently used to repair shit so. Pretty sure she and No Doubles are in the clear on account of profession shit, right? They'd know what they were doing."

Not that either had been accused, but it was certainly something he at least felt like would help. Byrne never considered himself to be smart, so he'd just have to settle for little steps into what he perceived to be the right direction. Mostly, anyway.

"Also... Uh about what Arakiel suggested. There was that space behind the snacks on the snack shelf, yeah? Thought it was weird so I tried to sit in it. I'm... kinda tall so I was a bit cramped, but a person definitely could fit behind all that shit."

.... He tried to sit on the shelf? Man too bad no one had a picture of that.

#Byrne #chapter2 #trial2 #submission

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likeastarstar · 2 years

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8:29 AM - Yoongi

(A/N: Part of my ITS series! for the anon requesting ITS domestic, acts of service centered Yoongi. Hope you like it, sorry for the long wait! Feedback is appreciated!)

Yoongi didn't know how much he wanted to be married until he met you.

It was your fault- he was really good at being single before you and now he couldn't sleep if you weren't next to him, couldn't cook less than two portions of food because he had to make sure you ate too, obviously. Part of it was because of how fun you were for him to observe, like the way you fumbled around the apartment sometimes looking for random shit you were constantly losing. He liked the adoring grin you had on your face when he found it for you, liked when you cooed at him in thanks, calling him your knight in shining armor.

He also liked watching you get ready, fascinated by the way you took such care to do your makeup and liked it extra when you let him dry your hair for you. He especially liked watching you with Holly, the sweet smiles and pretty little words you had for the tiny dog made something carnal in him wonder if you'd want a baby with him anytime soon.

Normally, he was good with his words- the entire world knew that.

He knew exactly what to say in almost every situation, knew how to disarm someone completely and dismantle any argument against him. There were few scenarios in which he found himself completely at a loss- but you were one of them.

You hit him like a truck, knocking the wind out of him and leaving him breathless. He couldn't wrap his mind around the way you made him feel, he couldn't even begin to describe it. He tried telling you about it, tried putting it into words but nothing was ever enough.

It was driving him a little nutty actually, keeping him up at night.

He thought being alone was boring now, he hated not having you next to him, whispering snide comments about how annoying everyone else was besides you and him. He wanted to do all that domestic shit with you- go grocery shopping and walk Holly together and pick out furniture together. He wanted to make long term plans and argue about who did the dishes after dinner.

Even now, on vacation with all million activities to do but all he wanted to do was what he currently was doing- which was laying between your legs, sprawled out on a hammock with his head on your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair absentmindedly, eyes trained on the book in Yoongi's hand as he held it up for the two of you to read in silence.

He liked the way your thighs squeezed him gently, silently informing him that you had reached the bottom of the page and were ready for him to turn to the next. He could do this for the rest of his life, being beside you like this.

"Are you hungry yet?" You mumbled, breaking the silence.

"No- are you?" He asked, craning his neck up to look at you. He dog-eared the page the two of you had just finished and set the book off to the side, landing with a soft noise in the grass below you.

"I could go for a snack in a little bit," You grinned, stretching slightly beneath him.

Yoongi shifted so that the two of you were side by side, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek. It was warm to the touch and flushed pink under the sun, your eyes shaded by a pair of sunglasses. He liked the vacation version of you- completely makeup free and relaxed, dressed in light linen fabrics that grazed the contours of your body and gave him easy access to you without any of the zippers and buttons and complications of Real World Clothes. He pushed your sunglasses up to the top of your head, wanting to see your pretty eyes peering down at him curiously before fluttering closed, pressing your lips to his lazily.

You touched his side lightly, feeling him smirk into the kiss as his lips brushed yours delicately. He kept his mouth against yours just long enough for you to feel his breath before pulling away, repeating the process as you felt desperation rise in your body, pulling him closer towards you as you deepened the kiss.

Kissing Yoongi was never a matter of fighting for dominance but pushing it towards each other in a show of true devotion to each other- it didn't matter which one of you was controlling the moment, just as long as you kept close. You touched your tongue to his lips lightly, swiping across his bottom lip until he widened his mouth slightly, chasing the wet muscle with his own tongue.

You giggled, pulling away from his embrace, "Vacation Yoongi is very touchy."

"Vacation Yoongi wants to fuck like, all the time," He quipped in response, pushing his hips up against yours.

"Someone could see us!" You whispered, peeking over the edge of the hammock's fabric. No one was anywhere near the two of you in your place on the lawn, thankfully, but you were still nervous about PDA in front of the boys as if they would magically appear.

"We're just kissing, they'll get over it." He grumbled, "Let's pretend we're on our honeymoon and that everyone else isn't here."

"Well, if no one else is here, who's gonna get me a snack?" You pouted, tilting your head to the side.

He looked around blankly, a comically confused look on his face, "Me?"

"Sounds good," You nodded solemnly. "No but really- we should go somewhere like this for our honeymoon. Or maybe somewhere tropical- what about Bali? Have you ever been to Bali?"

"We can go wherever you want, Jagi," He mumbled, kissing you again. You melted into his touch, imagining for a moment that you really were on your honeymoon.

You wanted to be married to Yoongi. Someday- when you both were ready for it. You wanted to support him, to make him feel as loved as he made you feel. It was a tall order but it was one you were prepared for.

You tried to convey it in a kiss, touching his cheek lightly and holding him close. You pushed your hand up under the hem of his shirt, flattening your palm on the smooth expanse of his torso, fingers pressing into the dips between muscles. You were about to move further, get bolder until-

"Yah!" a voice screamed, making you jump apart from your boyfriend. The force of your reaction made the entire hammock shake, Yoongi zipping a hand up to anchor the two of you to the ground and narrowly avoid falling out of the structure that was definitely only meant for one person. "Stop being cute! It's gross!"

You recognized Jin's voice- you'd recognize that particular yell anywhere. Yoongi shoved his middle finger in the air, not bothering to look away from you. You squirmed, covering your face in your hands in embarrassment.

"I can't wait until we're actually on our honeymoon," You mumbled, voice muffled behind your hands.

Yoongi sighed and nodded, hugging you close and patting you on the head reassuringly. "Let's go get you a snack until then, yeah?"

"Yeah," You echoed, nodding softly, letting him help you out of the hammock.

masterlist.

#bts fluff #bts drabble #bts fanfction #yoongi drabble #yoongi x you #yoongi fluff #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #min yoongi imagine #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x oc #min yoongi x reader #bts fic rec #bts timestamps #bts fic

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obeymehasinfluncedmythoughts · 3 years

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Obey Me Relationship Headcannons

Poly!MC and some beautiful boys. Might do a pt 2 but idk.

(Hey, I actually just found this half finished at the bottom of my saves, so, I've decided to finish. There might be some differences in writing style because of this!)

((Also, I have always imagined the boys to be really tall. It adds to the demon look to me I guess?? Just heads up. I think they have official heights but they came out after I became set in my ways))

Being in a relationship with the brothers is...hectic to say the least.

Despite guidelines put in place to keep things as fair as possible, jealousy is unavoidable amongst the sins.

Levi and Mammon are especially influenced by this emotion.

They both handle their envy in different ways (Levi's being much more extreme, because, well, he's literally the personification of the word), but both are just as annoying in their brother's eyes.

Lucifer tried to make a schedule to solve the issue, but no one ever followed it.

"The schedule says Belphegor, but he's been sleeping next to MC for three days now!"

"Satan you can't just say you're tutoring MC every single day this week to get more time with them!"

"Beel getting distracted in the kitchen and losing track of time does not mean he can cut into my time with MC!"

(Ext, really, we could be here forever)

Mammon always interrupts your time with the others.

Usually it's on accident because he's genuinely that absent-minded, but sometimes he just wants to get your attention.

(He's almost been killed 3 times for his tendency to interfere).

Asmo is the best ear when you're having relationship issues. Sure, your other partners are his brothers. However gossip is one of his favorite past times and if he can help your love life while doing it, he's all for it.

Beel and Belphie probably go in on a lot of their time spent with you together. Yes, they do enjoy being with you alone, but when you're just watching movies or hanging out, neither seems to mind.

Lucifer probably spends the least time with you. This is mostly due to his scheduling being demanding, but he always tries to make it up to you with fancy date nights and little love notes he'll leave in your bedside table.

Sometimes Belphie and/or Satan will change out these notes for their own, just to get in your good graces while fucking with Lucifer.

There's a lot of competition over the stupidest things.

(^So far it's been based on pact mark location, who sleeps with you most nights, who you've given the most hugs to in a day, and so on. Again, we could be here forever.)

Mammon still steals your things but he usually aims for things his brothers gave you. He's petty like that.

^Satan has taken to casting spells on such items just to prevent such happenings. It's a lot of work but anything for you.

Levi has you as his desktop background, or at least, in rotation. Ruri-chan still has to make an appearance.

Mammon does a lot of those cringe-worthy couples challenges. Everytime one comes up on Devilgram, Asmo makes sure to report it.

(Just because. He usually files it under offensive content, then does the same exact thing with you the next day. Neither have been suspended yet but it's a race to see who will be kicked first)

Your laundry is incredibly hard to find. It's usually in every other room besides your own.

This is only intentional half the time. Your clothes are too small for the demon bros, but some of them still like to cuddle with your sweatshirts/hoodies when you aren't there.

(The other half it's just you accidentally leaving your shit everywhere. Barbatos would be so offended)

There are occasional dates in the human realm but you try to remind them that they're a lot bigger then standard humans. Beel forgets this and has cracked the top of your doorframe at least twice with his head.

Lucifer isn't much better but his destruction is reserved more towards common household furniture.

("Lucifer, dear, I can't afford to buy three couches because you're mad at Mammon!!")

Levi gets incredibly shy when you go to the human world. People stare at them too much for his tastes so he tends to either hide in your room or drag you with him where ever he goes.

Having kids with them would be complicated, especially when it comes to raising them.

(^I might write about that soon, but idk.)

Mammon forgets anniversaries occasionally, but not in the traditional "I didn't get them a present" way. No, he got you one, he just forgot it was today he was supposed to give it to you.

Asmo, on the other hand, has an alarm set.

Everyone has different expectations for these sorts of celebrations so you should be prepared.

But that is really just good advice in general when it comes to the boys. Be prepared!

#obey me #obey me!#obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #poly! obey me #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #obey me headcanons

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uvobreakmylegs · 3 years

Text

Detour

I’m excited that it’s fall but i’m also sad that i won’t be able to swim anymore

Warnings: death, graphic depictions of violence, creepy behavior, groping, mentions of smut, kidnapping

The two guys at the gas station check out counter had been there when Phinks had first walked through the sliding glass doors, and they were still there when he approached the check out himself, having only dropped in to grab another pack of beer. The gas station clerk seemed annoyed while the two guys were pulling their pockets inside out, evidently in search of any spare change that may have been hiding on their persons. There was a sad pile of jenny and some change sitting in front of the clerk while she waited for them impatiently, and she seemed ready to push all of the money back towards them as it became more and more likely that these two didn't have enough cash for the assortment of alcohol and junk food that also sat on the counter.

Any other time Phinks would've been annoyed by the situation. But seeing as he didn't have anywhere to be, he found that he didn't really care all that much. The troupe likely wouldn't meet back up for some time which left his schedule quite open, and he had found it difficult to find something to occupy his time with while he waited for the boss to bring everyone together again.

Phinks had decided that a road trip was a decent way to pass the time. It was something he'd never really done before and so far it was easing his boredom as he had hoped it would. There was no real time limit he had set on himself or any destination that he had in mind. He'd just keep doing whatever he felt like until the novelty of the trip wore off and then go home.

“Would you like to take a few items off?”

The tired voice of the clerk cut through his thoughts, and Phinks found that there had been no progress with the two in front of him.

“No no, we need all of it,” one of the men, a redhead, insisted, “we just, uh....”

Trailing off, the man glanced over to Phinks, who was still waiting with his single pack of beer. Then the man looked over to his companion and then back to the items on the counter.

Phinks could already sense what the man was going to ask of him before he spoke out.

“Hey man,” the guy said to Phinks, “I know it sounds bad, but do you think you could spot me on this? I'm bringing this stuff back for my party. We ran out of some stuff way quicker than we expected. Can't let people down, y'know?”

The redhead started telling him how much more they needed until the clerk interrupted him to tell him off for harassing other customers for money. A mini argument started between the two, with the man insisting that he wasn't harassing anyone and the clerk disagreeing with him. The man's friend joined in shortly after and it was quickly turning into a mess.

What obnoxious fucking people.

If he was in more of a bad mood he'd have probably snapped the necks of all of them. The presence of cameras stopped him from doing that, however, as it would just be too much of a pain to go to the back and destroy the footage after. Still, even though he didn't have anywhere to be, it didn't mean that he wanted to waste his time listening to people bicker. The easiest way out of this was to just give them the jenny so they'd all shut up.

After pulling out his wallet, Phinks slid the jenny across the counter.

That shut the three of them up, and the two men were quick to express their gratitude while the clerk just looked tired.

“Thank you so, so much, man,” the redhead continued after they collected their bagged items.

“Mm-hm.”

Phinks was only half-paying attention to him as he waited for the clerk to scan the beer so he could hand her the jenny owed. That transaction went much quicker and Phinks was soon making his way to the exit.

The two men seemed to be waiting on him, though.

“Hey, since you helped us out, you wanna come to my party?” the redhead asked.

Normally his automatic response would've been to give him a flat “no”. But in this instance Phinks just shrugged.

That seemed to give the redhead hope, and he began listing the reasons why Phinks should follow them back, like his “cool house”, hot women and great beer.

Given the especially cheap brand of beer Phinks had largely paid for, he had a hard time believing that last point. He also wasn't quite sure why this guy was so insistent on getting him to come along. Was it really just because Phinks had bothered to help them out?

“Name's Stu by the way. Back there is Billy,” the redhead told him, sticking out his arm to shake hands. When Phinks didn't do the same, Stu seemed a bit dejected, yet even that didn't make him back down from inviting Phinks.

“So how 'bout it, man? You wanna come?”

“.... I'll think about it,” he told him.

“Okay, but do it fast man. My place isn't that far from here.”

Phinks nodded, and Stu ran off to the car where his friend was waiting. The other guy didn't seem as keen on Phinks as the redhead had, regarding the blonde with suspicion. Phinks could hear him saying something as the two entered the car. Stu seemed to brush him off, and then their car doors closed and Phinks couldn't hear anything else.

The two ended up pulling out of the parking lot before he did, and Phinks found himself following them as they all made the same turn onto the highway.

He still had no real urge to go to some random guy's party, especially when he found him to be pretty annoying. And if it was a party filled with the friends of someone like that, he'd probably get irritated with all of them pretty quick. Better to just ignore them and be on his way.

Although the thought of just driving aimlessly through the night wasn't all that attractive, either. He'd done that several times now, and the feeling of being the only person in the world while he drove on the empty highway had lost its touch by now.

The car in front of him veered off the highway to get onto a side road.

After a few seconds, Phinks did the same, just thinking to himself 'why not?'. It would be something different, a little detour on a trip that was meant to be a distraction, and if it ended up being something that he didn't want to bother with, then he could just leave.

Although the noise level in the house wasn't quiet, it was nowhere near ear-shatteringly loud as Phinks may have expected. At least it had that in it's favor. Other than that, it was a stereotypical frat house party, with everyone talking and drinking as they got more and more shitfaced.

The two who brought him here vanished into the kitchen, and Phinks began to make his way around the house, sipping one of the cans of beer he had bought for himself since he had no interest in the shit the host had him pay for. A girl in one of the upstairs rooms noticed the beer in his hand and begged him to share with her, even going as far as to tug on the sleeve of his jacket when he told her no. He ended up pushing her away, and though he had tried to use as little force as possible, his strength combined with her tipsiness caused her to stumble back into a wall. She was still whining about him when he walked back down the stairs, going on about how mean he was.

He thought he'd been pretty nice to her, all things considered.

It didn't take long for Phinks to lose interest in this particular distraction. Not that he'd been expecting much, but after going around the house and not even seeing anything that might be worth stealing, he figured it'd be best to leave soon. With his short temper being one of his vices, he didn't want to deal with what would happen if some drunk got on his nerves and he smashed them into the wall.

With the sights, sounds and smells became grating to him and seeing no reason to stay any longer, Phinks went about trying to find an exit. Attempting to get out the same way he came in was put to a stop when he saw how congested the front entrance had become. He could've easily pushed past all of them, but since that would likely draw a fair amount of attention, maybe it'd be a better idea to find a different way out. Phinks wandered into the kitchen, walking by Stu who tried to talk to him. A patio door leading to the backyard caught his eye and he ignored the party's host as he walked by several people to get to it.

The cool air outside felt refreshing and he let out a soft sigh as the patio door slowly swung closed. Claustrophobia generally wasn't something he had an issue with, but that seemed to change a little when he was faced with a house full of drunken strangers who didn't understand the meaning of personal space. Another nice thing was the fact that no one else seemed to be out here. He didn't think it was that cold out, but it worked just fine if the people inside thought otherwise.

He stood on a deck with an assortment of patio furniture that sat in front of an in ground pool, and when he looked to the side, he saw the gate within the fencing that surrounded the backyard.

That was his way out, then.

With no more reason to stick around, he was about to head out and back to his car-

But he paused when he heard the sound of splashing water, and he looked back to the pool.

So he wasn't the only person out here.

Some of the patio furniture had blocked you from his sight so he hadn't noticed you at first, but you were now swimming out into the center of the pool and impossible to miss. It was pretty late in the year for swimming, wasn't it? Yet you seemed to be content with yourself despite the temperature and lack of company, swimming around the pool like you owned it. Maybe you did; he wasn't sure what your relation was to the party host.

Then your eyes met, and you smiled as you greeted him.

“Hello.”

“... Hey.”

He hadn't come out to look for company. He was looking to leave.

Yet something about this situation, about you, intrigued him, and Phinks walked forward, continuing with “isn't it a little late in the season for swimming?”

“That's what everyone seems to think,” you said, “it's going to be drained tomorrow, so I wanted to swim one more time before that. It's the last chance I'll get for this year.”

“No public pools around here?” he asked.

“I don't really like public pools,” you told him, laughing a little bit as you continued “the ones around here are never clean, and I don't wanna swim around in nasty water.”

Phinks couldn't say if he really had an opinion one way or the other. He tried to avoid situations where he'd need to be shirtless in public, as the spider with the number 5 on his ribs would've been a dead giveaway for anyone who understood it's meaning. He just shrugged at you as he said “fair enough.”

Phinks now stood at the edge of the pool while you swam up to the edge.

“I don't think I've seen you before. You new around here?” you asked him.

“No. Just passing through. Helped out the host at the gas station and he invited me as thanks,” Phinks explained, “I was expecting this to be taking place at some shitty apartment; didn't think a guy like that owned a house.”

“He doesn't, it belongs to his older brother Jed. Stu just lives with him,” you responded.

“Ah.”

That made a bit more sense to him. Since he hadn't been able to buy beer from a gas station on his own, it didn't seem likely that the guy would've had his own house. So he was just leeching off of his brother.

Despite being ready to leave just minutes earlier, he found that he now had a reason to want to stay here longer. But standing and talking to you was getting a little awkward, so Phinks sat himself down on the concrete next to the pool. So far you weren't annoying compared to some of the others. And despite being by yourself beforehand, you seemed pretty open to talking with him, resting your arms on the edge of the pool.

“You friends with them, then?”

“Jed is in a few of my classes, so I'm friends with him. Not Stu, though. He's kind of an asshole. Likes to play a lot of stupid pranks.”

You rested your chin in your hand as you thought back.

“He's destroyed two of my phones so far, both times by dumping water on me,” you said, “although I guess he did repay me for both, but it's still such a hassle to go through.”

“You're nicer than I am. If some guy like that fucked up my phone I'd kill him.”

You laughed at him, not taking his words seriously.

“You seem nice enough. You helped him out, right?”

“Only because it was the fastest way to get outta there. Stupid bastard started an argument with the clerk.”

“Yeah. That sounds like something he'd do,” you said, tiredness lacing your voice.

A cheer then sounded from inside the house, and though the doors and windows were closed, it was loud enough that the both of you could hear it from outside.

“Things must be ramping up in there,” you commented.

“Guess so,” Phinks said, taking a swig of his drink after.

“Isn't it kinda weird that you're keeping to yourself with an event like this? Don't see the point in going out if you're going to avoid people,” he added.

“But isn't that what you're doing by coming out here?” you asked.

“Nah, I was getting ready to leave.”

“What stopped you?”

“I haven't done much out here beside sitting here talking to you. What do you think?”

You seemed a bit taken aback and a little embarrassed as you realized the reason, but gave him a small smile.

“Oh wow. Are you saying I managed to be charming enough to keep a guy from leaving?” you asked him.

“No. You're just not as annoying as the others I've met tonight.”

Your expression was rather blank as you took in that information.

“..... I'll take that as a compliment, then,” you said, “so what do you do?”

“What do I do?”

“For a job, or just anything in general.”

“I do a couple odd jobs here and there, I guess,” he answered, “every once in a while a bigger opportunity comes up, and I just do whatever I need to.”

It was an oversimplification of his criminal activities, and he hoped that he'd been vague enough without sounding suspicious.

It appeared that he had as you didn't seem to think it was strange.

“You mentioned earlier that you were just passing through. Are you on your way to a job or something?”

“Nah. I'm currently off-duty. And I had a lot of time to kill, so I decided to take a road trip.”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” you said, “I work on campus, so I don't really get to do vacations for now. Can't remember the last time I went on one.”

“Job at least worth it?”

“Kind of? Although the other week I needed to go through something stupid.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I got screamed at by a lady.”

Your tone made it seem like that was something happened on a regular basis.

“For what?” he asked.

“Something with her daughter's textbooks. She ordered one that she didn't need on accident but didn't want to admit that she made a mistake, so she just let her mother yell at me for forty minutes and claim that we were the ones who fucked up.”

You sighed a little after the explanation. Evidently that situation still made you frustrated.

“.... Did she apologize after?” Phinks asked.

With a slightly wistful smile, you shook your head as you said “people like that don't apologize.”

“Sounds rough.”

It went without saying that Phinks wouldn't have tolerated anything like that. If it had been him he'd have killed them both and tossed their bodies in the trash. But he kept that rather violent thought to himself.

“Sorry you needed to deal with that,” he added.

“It's okay. It's little things that keep you going,” you said, “I've been looking forward to swimming for a while, so I'm pretty happy right now. Although I guess I'm kinda doing a job right now.”

“How so?”

“Jed's at his job right now, and since he doesn't trust Stu, he asked me to make sure nothing happens to the pool. The last time Stu had a party there was a bunch of trash in it the next morning, and it was a pain to clean up. So in exchange for using the pool, I have full permission to snitch on anyone who tosses anything.”

“Yeah? What's snitching gonna do?”

“Jed's a scary guy. Nobody wants to make him mad.”

If Phinks had felt like being more of an asshole, and if you'd been unpleasant during your conversation with him, he probably would've taken his half-finished beer can and thrown it into the pool just to upset you and also to see if your friend was as scary as you were making him out to be.

But so far he'd been enjoying himself, so as fun as that thought might have been, he decided against it.

You pulled one of your arms off of the rim and back into the water. Evidently you were getting cold, but you held on to the edge to continue speaking to him.

“So how long have you been on your trip?” you asked.

“A few weeks.”

“A few weeks? You must have been all over the place, then. Did you go anywhere in particular?”

“Not really,” Phinks answered, “didn't have any real plan when I set out. Just drove to wherever I thought would be interesting.”

“That's kinda cool,” you said, “must be nice to be able to go wherever you want without any real plan.”

“You can't?”

“Nope. Classes and work means I can't just run off whenever I feel like it.”

“Too busy getting screamed at?” he asked jokingly.

“Yeah, something like that,” you answered, laughing a little after.

You pulled your other arm back underwater and just kept a hand on the side of the wall.

“Cold?” he asked.

“A little.”

“Probably why most people aren't swimming this late.”

“I don't care; it's worth it,” you said, “honestly, the thought of being able to swim was what kept me going this week.”

That.... Was a little bit sad, Phinks thought to himself. That all you had to look forward to at the end of the week was a few hours to swim by yourself in the cold. There were much sadder circumstances in the world – he was certain that anyone from Meteor City would be more than happy to switch places with you – but your life must have felt empty. Although Phinks was technically in the same boat at the moment, at least being with the troupe gave him purpose. What did you have besides a shitty job and presumably a fair amount of college debt? Just the 'little things' to keep you going?

Maybe he was presuming too much; he'd only just met you after all. But it bothered him regardless.

“What are your plans for after college?” he asked.

You seemed a bit startled, and you looked away from him for the first time.

“Not really sure, actually. I'm still undecided on my major,” you admitted, “I need to figure out soon, though. I'm going to run out of the basic coursework that I need to get through, and my family is getting mad that I haven't made a decision yet.”

So you didn't have any direction and were being pressured by others. Still not the saddest circumstance ever, but if it had been him, Phinks was certain he'd have been miserable.

You clearly didn't want to keep going on about that particular subject, as you began to ask him questions about his trip, wanting to know where exactly he had been so far and how much longer he planned to drive for. The change in topics was obvious, but he decided to go along with it.

As the night grew darker while the two of you talked, he decided that he liked you. You could hold a decent conversation, even if the things you two talked about weren't all that meaningful.

You were pretty cute, too.

The party behind him still seemed to be going strong, but it was largely going ignored by you both, in part by the fact that you were still the only ones outside.

Your face lit up as a thought came to mind.

“You should come in!” you told him.

“No thanks.”

“Come on! It's really nice!”

You grabbed at his free hand, tugging on his arm lightly as you tried to encourage him to get into the pool.

“If you get my suit wet I'll drown you,” Phinks said told you.

You giggled, once more not taking him seriously. Though he was only half-serious about it at this point.

“Then take it off and come in,” you insisted.

“I don't have a swimsuit.”

“That doesn't stop most people.

“Good to know,” he said flatly.

Though you'd stopped tugging on his arm, both of your hands remained on his wrist as you looked up at him.

“Can you not swim?” you asked.

“I can swim fine,” he said, “I just don't feel like it right now.”

You seemed a bit disappointed, but you had yet to let go of his wrist.

“Should you really be that surprised with the temperature being what it is?” he asked you.

“It isn't that bad. And the pool is heated,” you insisted, “didn't think a bit of chill would scare off the most interesting person at this party, though.”

The corner of his lips curled a bit at that. He wasn't one for meaningless flattery, but he didn't mind hearing you say things like that.

“Is that why you're not letting go of me?”

“You don't seem to be doing much to shake me off.”

“I could if I wanted to.”

“So you don't want to?”

You were teasing him. And while he could tease you back, he went for a different approach.

He yanked his wrist out of your grip and grabbed your own wrist just as fast, and lifted you up until you were eye level with him. To say you were flustered by the action would've been an understatement, and your free hand grasped at the arm that held you up to lessen the weight on the arm that he had trapped.

With you partially out of the water, Phinks allowed his eyes to travel over your form, following the trails of water that dripped down your skin and imagining exactly what you looked like under that swimsuit. His grin got wider when he saw your body reacting to the cooler temperature and the way your nipples showed through the material. It hadn't been on his mind when he first approached you, but after spending time with you he found himself liking the idea of fooling around with you. Probably not in the house, and he doubted you would want to do anything in the pool due to that friend of yours you had mentioned. Maybe there was some dark corner around here where he could take you to do what he wanted.

You were squirming a little, trying to free yourself from his grip.

“It's cold,” you whined.

“Yep,” was his reply.

“Come on, let go. I'm only in a swimsuit.”

“You weren't letting me go,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I didn't pull you into the water.”

“Because you're too weak to do that.”

“That's not fair!”

“Don't think this is a situation where fairness matters, sweetheart.”

With that he let you go, and you dropped back down into the pool. You pushed away from the wall after, giving him a slightly sour look.

“Problem?” he asked.

“It's cold,” you repeated.

He just smirked.

“You're gonna need to deal with it at some point,” he told you.

“Yeah, but I wasn't ready for it then!”

You had to have noticed the way he looked at you, right? There was no way you were so oblivious to have not seen how he had blatantly looked you over. Yet you weren't mentioning it.

By now you were more at the center of the pool, pointedly out of his range.

“You done talking?” Phinks asked.

“No, but I don't want you pulling me out again.”

Then you looked away like you were embarrassed.

It clicked for him. You must have liked it, but you were too shy to say anything about it.

Your reluctance was cute, though Phinks knew he'd get tired of that game pretty fast.

“Come back over,” he told you.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

You shook your head.

“You're going to do that again, right?” you asked.

“Maybe.”

“Then no. I don't wanna get out yet.”

“How long are you gonna stay in there?”

“Until I feel like getting out.”

“And if I want you out of there now?”

“Then you'd have to come in and get me.”

…. Oh

That's what it was.

A ploy by you to get him into the pool.

That's what you had to mean by those words, right?

“.... What the hell,” he said to himself as he stood.

It got your attention when he began to remove his clothing, throwing them over to a few neatly folded articles of clothing that sat next to a bag on the patio, which he assumed belonged to you. You were watching him closely, and he could sense a growing interest in you when he removed his shirt. Your eyes lingered a little when you caught sight of his spider tattoo, but there was no hint that you recognized what it meant, which was preferable.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked.

“You were looking at me earlier,” you answered defensively, “you're not allowed to get mad when I do the same.”

“Didn't say I was mad.”

You acknowledging the way he had looked at you then just reaffirmed in his head that you hadn't minded, and after stripping down to his boxers, Phinks jumped in. The water felt just as nice as you had said, but he didn't take much time to focus on it as he was quick to approach you. Within moments, he had wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in close, lifting you a little so you were at eye level with him. You seemed flustered again, but you didn't make any move to get away, and were resting your hands on his chest.

“I don't think you told me your name,” you whispered to him.

“Phinks.”

“Phinks,” you repeated, smiling afterwards, “I like it. It's cool.”

“Thanks,” he replied, “and how 'bout you?”

You gave him your name, which he also repeated to himself.

“Not as cool as 'Phinks', I guess,” you said.

“It suits you,” he said.

You smiled at him, then shifted slightly in his grip.

“Are you just gonna keep holding me?”

“You said I needed to come in and get you.”

“And what did you want to 'get' me for?”

Despite the question, you clearly had an idea of what Phinks was after as you began to move in closer to him. Phinks did the same, and slowly, the gap between the two of you was closed as your lips met together in a kiss.

With the heavy scent of pool chemicals that surrounded you two, it was hard to smell much else, but your lips were soft against his. The kiss was a bit tame for his liking, but he let you do what you wanted for now as you readjusted your arms so they were wrapped around his neck.

One of his hands slid down your back to reach down and squeeze your ass, and you gasped into the kiss. He slipped his tongue into your mouth for a brief moment before you pulled away, your hand over your mouth as you looked away in embarrassment.

“I'm not sure we should do much more here,” you said, glancing up at the house behind him, “there are people watching. I'm not into that.”

“Where do you wanna go?” he asked. It didn't surprise him much that you two might have attracted an audience, and when he heard the door to the patio open from behind him, he chose to ignore it.

“I don't think we'll get much privacy here, so how about my place?” you asked.

“Do you usually bring home strangers?”

“Only the really cool ones.”

He grinned.

You were leaning in to kiss him again when you suddenly froze and turned your attention to something behind Phinks.

“Don't do that!” you yelled.

Phinks turned his head just in time to see his and your clothes land in the water, with the guy who'd invited him – Stu, he remembered – pointing and laughing after having thrown them. The annoying woman from earlier, the one who had whined at him for his can of beer, was also there, standing behind Stu and running off with him towards the gate in the fence.

Phinks saw red.

He let you go and swiftly exited the pool, following after the two even as the chill of the night air nipped at his skin. He barely felt it, and he didn't give a shit that he was running around barefoot either. All of his focus was on catching up to those two assholes who'd dumped his clothes in the pool.

He was angry enough that he didn't notice the sound of feet following after him.

The two perpetrators were in an alleyway between two rows of houses, drunkenly laughing their asses off. Their demeanor didn't change when Phinks caught up to them. The woman actually began to laugh harder, probably because Phinks was still wearing only his boxers.

Stu was trying to contain himself a bit, and put his hands up as an offering of peace.

“Hey man, it wasn't anything personal. Just a prank,” he said, “you can use the dryer, and I'll lend you some clothes-”

His sentence was cut off when Phinks grabbed both sides of his head and twisted it completely around, the cracking of his broken neck ringing out in the empty alley.

The sight of Stu falling to the ground with his head facing the wrong way had the woman instantly sober up, and she looked to Phinks as she opened her mouth to scream.

Barely a whisper of sound was able to escape as he did the same thing to her, and now Phinks was standing half-naked in an alley with two dead bodies.

“Obnoxious fucking people,” he muttered to himself.

Then there was noise that came from behind him.

Phinks turned and saw the other guy who'd been at the gas station on the ground, his arms barely supporting himself as his eyes were wide at the sight of his friends dead before him.

His eyes widened even further when he spotted the spider on Phinks' ribs, clearly recognizing what it meant as he whispered “oh my god.”

Make that three bodies, Phinks thought to himself as he rushed forward to snap his neck as well.

Three bodies that he needed to get rid of. If anyone else from the party came out here and found them, the police would be called immediately. He had no intentions of staying here any longer, but it'd be best to put a bit of distance between himself and the crime scene before the police were inevitably called.

He was dragging the other guy by his ankles and in the process of collecting the woman's body when someone walked out into the alley through one of the other entrances. An older woman, who was definitely not from the party and had come from another house, carrying a bag of trash walked out in front of Phinks, and like the guy right before, her eyes grew wide as she saw the sight of the dead before her.

She made a move to run back to her house, but Phinks picked up a pebble that he infused with nen and launched it at her head. It traveled through her skull and the fencing beside her, and blood sprayed out from the exit wound and splattered onto the fence as well as she fell to the ground.

This was turning into a goddamn mess, and after Phinks had thrown now four bodies over into a different backyard, he heard a voice calling out “mom?” from the direction that the woman with the trash bag had come from.

Fuck this. He needed to go.

When he returned to the backyard to retrieve his clothes, he found you on the patio. You were holding his jacket over the concrete, desperately trying to wring out the water that had soaked it completely. You were visibly shivering as you did so, with goosebumps running up your arms and your teeth chattering. He noticed his pants hanging off the fence that surrounded the patio, and while they weren't dry by any means, you had clearly done your best to get the water out of them. Meanwhile your own clothes laid in a soggy heap by your equally soaked bag.

You noticed him when he walked closer.

“I'm sorry,” you told him. You looked guilty for some reason.

“You didn't do it,” Phinks said, considerably calmer now.

“No. But I made a big deal about you getting in with me, and with Stu around I should've been paying attention. I'm really, really sorry.”

He was about to tell you to stop apologizing when he heard a shout coming from the direction of the alleyway.

Fuck. He forgot that he needed to leave.

Luckily you were the only one who noticed, as the rest of the party goers still had the doors and windows securely shut. He pulled on his pants and his sopping wet tank top, and the sensation of wearing those wet clothes was just as unpleasant as he had anticipated. At least his shoes were still dry.

You were still holding his jacket, looking confused as you looked off in the direction where you'd heard that voice. Phinks was about to just take it from you and leave, but when he looked you over again, he thought over the things you two had talked about, the things you had said and how you'd acted around him, and he came to a split second decision.

Grabbing your clothes and bag, he shoved them into your hands before he grabbed one of your arms and pulled you after him. You seemed startled, but you didn't question him as you were too surprised to think of anything to say. He led you out through the backyard and down to where he had parked his car, opening the passenger side door and pushing you inside. He then walked around to the driver's side, and within moments you both were speeding out of the neighborhood.

By the time he came to the highway there was a strong smell of pool chemicals that filled the car, and both of the front seats were slowly soaking up the excess water that dripped off of the two of you.

You seemed to be in a mild state of shock, as you had yet to say anything. You just sat in your still wet swimsuit looking rather confused while you still held onto the soaked clothing Phinks had forced onto you.

After a while you shuddered and finally spoke up.

“Do you think you could turn up the heat?” you asked him.

“Oh. Sure. Sorry.”

Phinks turned the heat up all the way, and after a few moments you seemed to relax a bit, though now you were glancing over at him while smiling nervously.

“Uh, so, there's a lot that I should probably be questioning,” you began, “but I'll start with if you knew why there was yelling?”

Should he lie? No, that might be weird if he pretended not to know.

“I punched that guy in the face. I think I broke his nose,” he told you, “that was likely his friend after he saw him.”

“Ah. Okay,” you said, “that's..... Not very good, but I think I get why you did that. You're gonna get charged with assault, though.”

Fat chance.

“I'll deal with that when I come to that,” he answered, “sorry if I put you in a tough position.”

“It's okay. Well, not really. But Stu's pranks have always been pretty bad and what he did was shitty, so I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Think you can forgive me?”

“... Yeah, I think so. Just promise you won't do anything like that again.”

“I promise.”

“Okay,” you said as you nodded, “so second question: where are we going?”

“.... Not sure. Didn't have much of a plan besides getting out of there and going back to what I was doing,” Phinks admitted.

“So you're just back to driving around going wherever?”

“Seems like it.”

“Why did you bring me along?” you asked.

“.... Didn't want that to be the last time I saw you,” he said.

“Oh.....”

His answer ended up making you flustered again, and while you did seem to be holding some reservations about him with his admission of violence and the fact that he really had just kidnapped you, he could see you rationalizing everything in your mind and convincing yourself that this wasn't all that bad.

It was preferable if you did that. It made taking you with him a lot easier.

“Luckily for me I don't work tomorrow,” you said, “and since the day after that is Sunday and the campus store isn't open then, I also have that day off. So I think it's okay if I drive around with you for a bit. Just get me back by Sunday night, alright?”

“Don't worry. I'll get you back safe and sound,” he told you, and you visibly relaxed at his words.

You were a little naive, a little too trusting. But that was fine. Phinks liked that about you.

“Okay so third question,” you announced as you looked down at the wet clothes in your lap, “what should we do about this?”

“Right. Let me pull over.”

He stopped the car beneath a streetlight, and you sat sideways on the passengers seat while you held the clothes out of the car and wrung the water out of them as best you could. Phinks took the opportunity to change after you handed him his jacket, and he threw the mostly damp clothes in the backseat.

Glancing over at you, he did appreciate how much your swimsuit showed off while you tried to dry out your own clothes. But while he liked the idea of you staying as you were for the rest of the trip, you probably wouldn't be as big of a fan of that. Going over to his trunk once more, he dug around through his bag before he found what he was looking for.

“I don't have anything that will fit you well,” Phinks said as he made his way over to you, “but this should cover you up.”

What he handed you was the long white robe he wore on occasion, usually for combat or missions.

You seemed a bit surprised when you saw it, but you accepted it gratefully. Your gaze went to the jeweled eye that hung near the neck of the garment, and he heard you mumble about it being pretty.

He wondered briefly what you might think of the snake headpiece he usually wore with it, but the time for that would come later as you were currently slipping his robe over your head.

“Thank you,” you told him again as you threw your clothing in the back as well.

Then your attention went to your bag, and you frowned.

“What's wrong?”

In response to his question, you tilted your bag to the side and water began to pour out of it.

“Ah.”

“How much do you wanna bet that my phone is dead?” you asked as you reached inside.

As was expected, your phone screen stayed black when you hit the power button, and you sighed.

“And that's phone number three that Stu has destroyed.”

“Don't worry. It won't happen again,” he told you.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

You tossed the now useless phone into your bag and looked back up to him as if to say “so what now?”

Phinks had an idea for that.

“Wanna go to a motel?”

“A motel? Wow, you sure know how to treat someone,” you said sarcastically.

“You really think I can get you into a nice hotel with you looking like that? You don't even have shoes,” he said.

“I didn't get a chance to grab them,” you responded, though you seemed to concede a bit.

“Could we stop somewhere tomorrow so I can get shoes or something?”

“I'll buy you a whole new wardrobe if that's what you want.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head and saying that you didn't need that.

Before too long, Phinks was back in the drivers seat while you watched the streetlights as the car passed them by, your fingers idly playing with the jewel on his robes as you did so. He had turned down the heat and turned on the radio, and though it still felt strange to be sitting in the wet seats, it wasn't bothering either of you as much anymore. The smell from the pool was mostly gone after driving a bit with the windows opened just a crack.

Except for the occasional car that drove in the opposite direction, you were the only ones on the highway.

“How far are you gonna drive?” you eventually asked.

He wanted to get out of the state at least. Phinks didn't want to deal with a confrontation with the law while also taking you along with him. He wanted to get as far as he could while you were still cooperative, and whenever you realized that there was no chance he'd be taking you back, he'd go to more extreme measures of keeping you with him. Your phone being dead was a good thing for him; you wouldn't be able to try and get help as easily.

“I think we've passed by three or four motels already,” you added, “was there something wrong with them?”

“No. Sorry. I got a bit distracted,” Phinks replied, “I've come to really like the highway at night. There's something soothing about it, I guess. Wanted to stay like this for a bit longer.”

You nodded in response and looked back out the window, your fingers still playing with the jeweled eye.

“Can I borrow your phone at some point tomorrow? I need to call someone just so everyone back home knows I'm okay. Don't want them to worry,” you said to him.

“Sure,” he said.

Arguing with you over that would seem strange. He'd just need to avoid that subject tomorrow.

He noticed when you yawned.

“Getting tired?” he asked.

“A little,” you said, laughing a little as you added, “this wasn't how I was expecting my night to go.”

“Same here.”

“I hope you decide to stop soon. I might not be up for it tonight if you're planning on continuing where we left off at the pool when we reach that motel.”

“That's fine. We'll have all day tomorrow, right?”

His words made you embarrassed again, and you shyly answered with a yes as you smiled to yourself.

So that was the plan, then. Drive as far as he could tonight, fuck your brains out tomorrow, then get away further before you figured things out. You would likely object, not liking the idea of being taken away from everything you'd ever known. But he was certain that after spending enough time with him, you'd prefer it. Your current life wasn't any good, but he was prepared for you to not understand that at first. And if he needed to tie you up and shove you into the trunk to keep you compliant, he could do that. Seemed like a pretty fool-proof plan.

You were yawning again.

“Get some sleep if you need to,” he said, “I'll wake you up when I find a place I like.”

You nodded. Soon after he saw you settling back into the seat and closing your eyes as you attempted to get some rest.

He liked the sight of you next to him, sitting in his clothes while you nodded off in his car. And when he turned his attention back to the empty highway, he was once again hit with the feeling like he was the only one in the world. A feeling that only came with seeing an area that was typically full of people seem completely abandoned.

But this time, though, he wasn't alone.

#reader insert #yandere #yandere hxh #phinks x reader #yandere phinks #phinks magcub #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere x reader

501 notes · View notes

piecksz · 3 years

Text

three’s a crowd | (m)

pairing: reiner x fem!reader x eren

warnings: nsfw, oral sex (female recieving), cuckolding, male masturbation, penetrative sex, voyeurism, slight degredation, slight angst, light mention of drugs, explicit language

summary: reiner’s attempt at hiding his attraction towards you fails, but lucky for him, eren’s feeling generous.

words: 4.6k

a/n: this was so much longer than i planned for.....well.....shit LMAOOO

a/n x2: I FORGOT TO ADD if you guys wanna listen to the song i looped like 47 fucking times while writing this, bc i feel like it fits reiner in this one shot kinda well, u can listen to recognize by partynextdoor (feat. drake) :p enjoy

Reiner hated Eren.

He hadn’t gone into living with someone he’d never met in person before with innumerable expectations, but he wasn’t banking on his roommate to be his polar opposite. He hated the sound of Eren’s riotous music into the early hours of dawn. He hated the unbearable malodor of his marijuana dependence, and he hated the way he carried himself with an intolerable air of arrogance, but as much as Eren’s living habits irritated him, it was the fact that Eren had you that presided over all of his grievances.

Being a witness to it made Reiner sick, knowing that you were leagues above Eren, and surely you deserved someone respectable, but somehow he’d charmed you into a long-term relationship, and Reiner wondered how he’d managed it. If by some miracle it had been up to him, Reiner speculated that he would be a viable match for you--that was if he had those sentiments for you--and he reassured himself he didn’t hold any promiscuous feelings towards his roommate’s girlfriend.

Yet it was hard for Reiner to rationalize the obscene thoughts that pervaded his mind at 2 AM. His clock displayed the time in bold red numbers, an indication that he should have been fast asleep, but you had decided to spend the night, and he already understood what that entailed.

The walls in their apartment were thin and did an insubstantial job of muting the noise that traveled between rooms. Reiner boasted the privilege of having his room right next to Eren’s, which meant he could hear everything that happened on the other side of the barrier. He heard every whimper, every groan, every time Eren praised you for taking him so well, and every time he admired how irresistible you looked while he fucked you from the back. The sound was so lucid he could count exactly how many rounds you guys had gone, and it was usually two, three if Eren hadn’t seen you in a while which was rare.

You two were hard to ignore, no matter how hard Reiner had tried, meaning he was also up late, listening while you two coupled. Your cries of stimulation, however, he didn’t mind as much. In truth, Reiner was always tempted to slip his hands into his pants and get himself off to the sound of your enticing whimpers, but he would discourage himself, deciding it was against his better judgement. Instead he would opt to cover his ears with his pillow, flipping over onto his side and dedicating his total effort to falling asleep.

Of course, Reiner had long established that he didn’t like you, but he swore he could make you feel better than Eren could.

It was around midday when Reiner returned to their apartment after committing his morning to helping his long-time friend, Pieck, pack up the furniture at her studio in preparation to move. They were halfway finished with stowing away Pieck’s belongings before she realized they didn’t have enough boxes and apologized, asking Reiner if he’d be willing to return the following day to help her load up her remaining things. He obliged, guiltily happy that he was being dismissed early.

Reiner kicked off his shoes and ambled into the kitchen to set down the food he secured on his way home, but he paused momentarily to scrutinize the condition of the living room, discerning Eren’s obvious trace.

The TV was on, but it sat idly, blinking images of some prime time movie Reiner couldn’t recognize, and Eren’s drug paraphernalia was left scattered on the coffee table, his bong alongside his stray lighter and grinder.

“Eren!” Reiner had prompted him on several occasions, reminding Eren that just because he thought electricity was a necessary utility and should be free, didn’t mean it was, they still had to pay for it. He also requested that he put his bong away after he was done smoking since it wasn’t permitted in their building, but Eren seemed heedless to that demand too. “Eren!”

Reiner anticipated a response, but huffed when he received only silence. Leave it to his roommate to blight his good mood in record time. He mumbled inaudibly, swiping the remote off the table to turn the TV off, and then reluctantly bending down to tidy the space of Eren’s things.

“Hi, Sunshine. You’re up and about early.”

Reiner straightened himself out and turned around, unaware that you’d been over. He missed your approaching footsteps. Had you stayed the night? He didn’t hear anything from Eren’s room the previous evening which was unusual to say the least. Maybe you’d stopped by earlier that morning while he’d been out.

“Hey,” he replied meekly. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were here.”

Reiner’s eyes looked you over swiftly, slightly startled at the lack of clothing covering your bottom half. You were only wearing a loose shirt that stopped dangerously at your hips and a pair of lace undergarments, but naturally, you didn’t seem the least bit phased. You’d practically lived with them. When you weren’t in class or at your part-time job, you were at their apartment, leading Reiner to wonder if you forgot you had a place of your own.

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “Sorry Eren left all of his shit out. I don’t know how I know the house rules and he doesn’t.”

Reiner snorted. “He knows them, he just doesn’t care.” His voice was casual although he walked hastily into the kitchen to avoid looking at you. He stored Eren’s bong in the vacant cupboard above the microwave before throwing his other tools into a miscellaneous drawer.

As if on cue, Eren wandered out of his room languidly, carelessly shrugging a jacket onto his unclad upper body. Reiner took that as a sign that his lunch would be best enjoyed in his room. He was already irked, and wasn’t in the headspace to deal with the current atmosphere.

“What’d you get?” you questioned, leaning over the counter with mirth. You paid little attention to the way Eren came up behind you, circling his arms around your waist and resting his chin in the curve of your shoulder. You looked more interested in the alluring smells wafting from the paper bag in Reiner’s hand.

Another thing he hated about Eren was his shameless PDA. It appeared he adored showing you off, letting everyone know that you were his, but God--how could anyone forget when it seemed he was incapable of keeping his hands off of you. Reiner himself recognized that you were a prize, from your lively eyes that were a marriage of subtle hues to the way your lips curled upwards when you grinned. He even noticed the curve of your breasts’ shape through your shirt. If Reiner had you, he’d want you all to himself.

He shook the thought out of his head.

“I just got something small on the way home.” He forced a smile. “If I’d known you were over I would have gotten you something too.”

“Why do you treat Y/N better than you treat me?” Eren asked, sounding only a little bit offended.

Reiner pretended to think before he responded. “Ah, maybe it’s because I don’t like you.”

You laughed at Reiner’s reply, and Eren only smiled, but Reiner detected something else behind his expression. Mischief.

“Do you like Y/N?”

Reiner creased his eyebrows together. “Of course.” He hadn’t read too much into the question. He did like you. You weren’t just easy on the eyes, but you were great company too. That was the only reason he didn’t mind lending their apartment to you as a second home, he enjoyed being around you.

You let out an exaggerated aww after he answered. “I like you too, Reiner.”

Reiner chuckled, shaking his head, but inside he was telling his heart to calm down. You didn’t mean it like that.

Eren hummed absentmindedly, swaying side to side slowly while you rocked along to his movement.

“Do you wanna fuck her?”

Reiner gripped the bag in his hand tightly, and his smile faltered in shock, reeling from the bombshell of Eren’s question. “What?” Did he hear him correctly?

You looked just as surprised, exclaiming your boyfriend’s name and craning your neck to look at him.

“I’m kidding,” he dismissed, but Reiner could tell he wasn’t from the way Eren’s eyes didn’t waver from him.

What Reiner didn’t know was that Eren had caught onto him. He’d known for a while, which was why he was particularly touchy with you around Reiner, showing you off, not caring whether you walked around their apartment scarcely dressed, it was because Eren enjoyed having something that someone else wanted. He saw the way his roommate acted around his girlfriend, reserved and quiet, more than he usually was, and he even noticed the way Reiner’s eyes dipped down to your chest in the moment because Eren was exceptional at paying attention to detail.

You must have detected how uncomfortable Reiner felt because you delivered a brief jab to Eren’s ribs with your elbow.

“Eren, that’s not fucking funny,” you chided. “Do I need to put you in time out?”

“It’s fine,” Reiner interrupted quickly. He didn’t want you defending him because you were oblivious. It only made the situation more embarrassing than it already was since, truthfully, the thought had crossed his mind more than once.

Eren reiterated his question, eyes narrowed at Reiner. “So do you?”

You sighed heavily and looked at Reiner apologetically. He could feel his face growing hot, and he prayed it wasn’t obvious he was as flushed as he felt. He just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

Reiner released a humourless chuckle. “Grow up, Eren.” He slipped past the two of you, but he didn’t get far.

“I’m only asking because I’m feeling charitable. You wouldn’t mind, would you baby?”

Reiner could hear Eren pressing a series of ticklish kisses against your skin, causing you to laugh through your answer.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind if Reiner doesn’t mind.”

Reiner brought his teeth down hard on the tip of his tongue. He was surprised that Eren was so secure in his relationship that he would willingly allow another man to have his way with his girlfriend. He wasn’t sure if his suggestion was insane or ingenious, because Eren had taken control of the one thing that threatened any relationship: infidelity, something so unvirtuous wouldn’t stop him from loving you. You and Eren were so committed to each other that a simple fuck meant nothing.

Reiner hesitated, but figured an opportunity like this was rare. He had both Eren’s permission and yours, yet he still didn’t believe his sincerity until you were in Eren’s room, starting to strip out of your clothes.

His chestnut eyes drifted over to Eren, slouched lazily in the chair he casually pulled out from his desk. “You’re gonna watch?”

Eren lifted a thick eyebrow, resting his thumb under his chin with an index finger against his cheek, looking unimpressed by Reiner’s obvious reservations. “You think I’d let you fuck my girlfriend without me here?”

Reiner slid a tense hand over the back of his neck, rubbing away the uncomfortable heat that creeped up his back and diffused to the tips of his ears. He figured that was reasonable considering the circumstances, after all, he was only fucking you because Eren had allowed it.

There was nothing more intoxicating to Reiner than your bare form, scanty pink lace clinging to your hips the only thing preventing you from being completely naked in front of him. His gaze dipped from your simpering smile down to your collarbones and then down to your breasts, perfectly sculpted to your figure.

Reiner made no efforts to move despite his insatiable urge to grab you in his arms and make certain that you were left satisfied. He feared he’d look too eager to Eren who was observing from the sidelines, but you paid little attention to your audience of one as you sauntered towards Reiner, closer and closer, until your arms slid around his neck and you pressed your chest to his torso.

Reiner’s body was strung so tightly, he was afraid he might snap. It seemed you took notice of the way his muscles tensed once your delicate fingers ghosted over the nape of his neck because your suggestive expression waned, and instead, your eyebrows creased with sincere concern.

“You okay?”

He couldn’t respond, but to be fair, it was because his heart was hammering against his chest and he wasn’t sure how to make it stop. He looked over at Eren again, who, fortunately, didn’t seem to pay much attention to him. Instead, your boyfriend’s stare was fixed on your backside, likely admiring how luscious you looked from his perspective.

“I’m over here.” You laughed and pressed a gentle finger to Reiner’s chin, redirecting his focus back to you. “Just relax.”

He swallowed, chuckling to soothe his unease. “I’m trying.”

Reiner wasn’t sure why he felt so unassertive in your presence. He didn’t hold a record like Eren did, but he also wasn't abstinent by any means. This, though, felt different. He was dealing with several months of pent-up sexual frustration that could only be satisfied by you and no one else. He knew because he’d tried.

Reiner drew in a ragged breath as you leaned into him, breathing heavily through his mouth until you closed the space in between you two, then he continued breathing heavily through his nose. At first, he made no efforts to close his eyes, afraid that the imagery in front of him was a mirage inspired by his own imagination and would disappear if he so much as blinked. His lips were timid, body taut under your touch, but you seduced his mouth, reining him in until he melted into the kiss.

He pushed back against you with fervor and desperation, outlining the shape of your bottom lip with his tongue before nipping at the soft flesh. You released a quiet whimper, intensifying the lust swelling in the pit of his stomach, and Reiner forced his tongue past your teeth, claiming your mouth while his wandering hands settled audaciously against your ass.

Your hands slid over his shoulders and crafted biceps until they tugged hastily against the hem of his shirt, and Reiner immediately understood your cue, withdrawing his mouth from yours to give himself just enough time to slip out of it. He dipped down again to deliver another kiss, but he was deterred by the feeling of your palm against his chest.

“What? Is something wrong?” he questioned quickly, eyes darting back and forth between your hand and your face, worried that he’d done something to overstep your boundaries.

Instead of the troubled expression he expected, you looked rather intrigued. Perhaps impressed was the better word. Your curiosity was held by Reiner’s physique, a living work of art. Eager fingers traveled down the built ripples of his abdomen, chuckling once you felt his muscles flex under your touch.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathed. “Nice, Braun.”

A snicker emitted from the corner. This, miraculously, Eren allowed.

Reiner's mouth quirked upward in a subtle smile before he surrounded you with his arm, pulling you in for another kiss. He walked you backwards until you collapsed onto the mattress, and he fell on top of you, strong forearms holding up his weight. It was then that Reiner realized he allowed his lust to win in the war against himself.

He pulled away to recover his breath, winded pants fanning over your face. His surveying eyes searched yours before they lowered to your swollen lips. God, you were even more mesmerizing up close, heavy-lidded and studying him through a curtain of eyelashes. Maybe for once Reiner would admit he was jealous of Eren. He was fucking envious, bitter, and spiteful that you were his. He’d been a goddamn idiot to let things go this far, agreeing to Eren’s offer, because he knew one fuck wouldn’t be enough to fufill his need for you. He’d barely gotten a taste, and he could already promise that nothing would ever compare to this.

He found your throat and pressed a fleeting kiss to your pulse, moving further down until his lips met your collarbone. He nipped at the delicate skin, taking notice of the way your grip in his hair tightened. His eyebrows arched while he peered up at you, delighting in the way your head rolled back and forth against the duvet. He really wanted to suck at your skin, leaving dark bruises that decorated the path from your earlobe down to your breastbone, but he knew Eren would kill him.

Reiner dipped lower until his lips brushed lightly against your beaded nipple. You made a small sound of protest, but held his head closer, letting him know what you really wanted. His heart beat erratically against his ribcage as he curved a large hand around your right breast and suppressed a groan, but you released a breathy whimper.

He could feel the sound wreaking havoc in his brain. His balls were so damn tight, it would take barely any effort for him to cum, but he wanted to prolong your coupling as long as possible. He didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance like this.

His thumb ran over the erect peaks of your breasts, captivated by the magic of watching your back arch and your body become aroused under his touch. He dipped a finger into his mouth, glazing it with his saliva before using it to flick back and forth at your nipple.

“Fuck, Reiner,” you mewled.

Reiner replaced his hand with his lips, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth. The tip of his tongue swirled around it, coating it generously with his spit, while you made no attempts to conceal your intense cries of pleasure.

Eren released an entertained sigh, swiveling back and forth in his chair. “She whines like a bitch, doesn’t she?”

Shit. Reiner had almost forgotten he was there, but he still released a hungry grunt in agreement, sending vibrations over your chest. He tugged at your nipple with his teeth, releasing it, and then soothing the sting with the flat side of his tongue.

He trailed down your abdomen, pressing hard wet kisses and stopping to leave a quick lick to your navel. He grinned against your skin when you gripped the sheets and breathed his name again, this time quieter, as if you meant it only for his ears. He liked to think so.

Once he reached the waistband of your panties, he licked along the fabric, immobilizing your rolling hips with strong hands.

“Enough with the theatrics, Reiner. Just do it already,” Eren groaned, sounding irate.

Reiner assumed Eren’s groan was only to stress his impatience, but once he looked over to him, he realized he wasn’t just giving directives from the sidelines. His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth, and his hand was moving steadily against the noticeable tent in his sweatpants.

He was enjoying this just as much as Reiner was, getting off to the sight of his girlfriend under another man, his roommate nonetheless.

Reiner suddenly felt strange. What the hell was he doing providing entertainment for Eren?

“Reiner,” your needy voice pulled him out of his reflection. His attention drifted back to you, watching while you propped yourself up on your elbows and slid your unsteady hands over your chest to tweak your own nipples, as if you were trying to hold yourself over.

He wished you hadn’t looked so tempting, even with your disheveled hair and sweaty skin, your vulnerable eyes fixated on him, and he was powerless.

Reiner hooked his fingers around your underwear, kissing a trail down the inside of your thighs as he pulled your panties down to your ankles before slipping them off and letting them pool on the floor.

“Spread wide baby, let him see that pretty pussy,” Eren stirred, cock now thrust out the top of his grey sweats and his swollen tip glistening with precum. His hand was wrapped firmly around his stiff length, moving slow while his breathing quickened.

For once, Reiner agreed with him, and he pressed his fingers into your thighs to aid you in parting your legs. Your pussy was slick with your own arousal, squelching as you tightened around nothing. You were even prettier than he’d imagined.

“Fuck,” Reiner breathed, extending two fingers to part your folds. Was he still sure he wasn’t dreaming?

He wrapped his built arms around your legs, pulled you closer, and lowered his head. He fixed his lips to your swollen clit, allowing his tongue to lap and circle around the tender bud every few seconds.

“Oh my god,” you cried, writhing against the sheets.

If he hadn’t secured your legs in his grip, he was certain you would have smothered him between your thighs out of reflex. He could detect the way you fought against his hold, but he far overpowered you in strength.

When he plunged his tongue inside you without notice, that was nearly enough to send you over the edge. You pulled on the sheets with a frenzied grip, producing a shrill cry your neighbors had certainly heard. There was no doubt about it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you murmured, chest expanding and falling with labored breaths.

Reiner wanted to spend a few more generous minutes tasting you, he couldn’t get enough, but he also wasn’t sure how much longer he would last. His cock was hot and hard in his pants, and he needed to feel you around him. Even if Eren wouldn’t let him cum inside of you, he needed to experience at least that much.

He rose to his feet, working quickly against his pants’ zipper while trying not to tease himself by looking at you. He was worried the mere sight of you on the bed, spread and ready for him would be enough to bring him to a climax, but he’d made the mistake of looking at you anyways, hand between your legs, delicate fingers rubbing at your clit while you stared up at him.

Fucking hell. Kill me. Reiner thought. Fuck. He felt the throbbing heat of his cock, and he wished you wouldn’t look at him like that. He really wished you wouldn’t look at him like that.

“Look at her, so desperate to be filled. It’s almost pathetic,” Eren laughed, but it was clear he was feeling your effect too. He lolled his head forward, long brown hair spilling over his shoulders and obscuring his face while his palm worked fast against his cock.

Shut up, Reiner thought. His head was growing hazy, and he couldn’t think. He needed to be inside you, and he couldn’t wait a second longer.

Reiner let himself free while his pants and underwear hung low around his knees. He couldn’t even find time to delight in the way your face melted into bliss once you laid eyes on his thick cock, leaking precum in sinful amounts because all he could think about was his ache. He leaned over you, positioning himself at your entrance.

He’d been waiting for this for so goddamn long.

Reiner exhaled when you said his name again, hips undulating against his cock and wet folds stroking his tip. He watched as he pushed himself into you, filling you to the hilt, and once he was inside he hung his head forward, eyes shut tightly in a painful sort of ecstasy.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Reiner grunted breathlessly.

He groaned, pinning your hips down with his once you attempted to fuck yourself onto his cock.

“Stop moving,” he pleaded. “Jesus christ--please don’t move.” He stayed still for a moment, waiting until his sensitivity subsided before he started rocking his hips against you slowly.

Reiner couldn’t dedicate his focus to anything other than the feeling of your slick walls clenching around his cock every time he pulled out, and the way he stretched you out every time he thrusted back in. He wondered if you could feel the depth of his desire.

“Harder,” you whispered once, and then begged louder. “Reiner please, fuck me harder.”

At first, Reiner was worried. He wanted to be gentle, he wanted to savor you, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt you, but your request had him picking up the pace, ramming into you until the familiar slapping sound of sweaty skin filled the room.

You unraveled and became completely undone, letting out loud moans every time he drove his cock into you. Reiner thought the sound was incredibly euphonic as it fell upon his ears. You were like this because of him.

“How’s this?” His voice was husky and deep beside your ear.

Reiner was pleased by your lack of response. You could only nod, overwhelmed by the dual sensation brought on by him and the feeling of your quick fingers against your clit. You secured an arm around his neck again and wrapped your legs around his torso, clinging to him like he was all you needed. He wished that was how you really felt.

“Close…,” you murmured, and Reiner deduced you were warning him that you were near your orgasm. He could tell by the way your walls began to spasm.

Reiner felt the small of his back tighten, and he knew he was close too. He was torn between his release and holding himself back, not ready for this to end just yet, but his body betrayed him and he felt his cock twitch inside you.

Luckily, you reached your climax first, and Reiner watched in awe as your body seized underneath him, breasts bobbing with every jolt while you worked your clit into overstimulation. It wasn’t long after your orgasm that he made his last rueful thrusts. He quickly pulled out and clasped himself in the curve of his hand. He pumped his length until he released in quick spurts onto your stomach, covering you in his hot seed, and he kept pumping until he made sure he emptied himself of every drop.

His eyes quickly darted over to Eren, not to be odd or anything, but again, he had forgotten he was there. It seemed Eren had already satisfied himself. The creamy, white liquid decorating the bare skin of his abdomen and dribbling down his loose fist was evidence of that. Now that he had appeased his urges, he seemed disinterested as he reached over his desk and plucked a few tissues to clean himself up.

Reiner collapsed beside you, listening to the loud thudding of his heart as it delivered a few ecstatic beats while he caught his breath and began to calm down. He stared at the pivoting fan blades, and then his eyes dropped down to you lying next to him, sweaty and fucked out.

You were laying there with him, and goddammit he wanted to reach his arms out and wrap them around you, pulling you close so he could hold you and feel your heartbeat against his chest. He’d press kisses to your salty forehead, and then tell you how much he loved you. He wanted to stay like this.

Reiner's ideal vision dissolved once Eren stopped at the edge of the bed and extended his hand for you to grab.

“You wanna join me for a shower, baby?” Eren asked.

Of course, you took it, allowing him to support you until you were sitting up.

You released an exhausted laugh. “Yes, please.” You then turned to Reiner and arched your eyebrow in surprise. “By the way, not bad, Braun.”

Reiner gave you a small smile in return, but said nothing as he watched you cover your breasts with your arm and let Eren hoist you off the bed. You two slid past him and headed out of the room, but not without Eren looking back over his shoulder, shooting Reiner a shit-eating grin, as though reminding him who you’d always belong to.

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sunflowershouto · 3 years

Text

someone else likes his crush - headcanon (tsukishima)

𝐚/𝐧: here's a random idea i've had in mind for a little while! as always, let me know if you'd like a part 2 with different/more characters -leo

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: jealous fluff, dm if you want any warnings added

my haikyuu masterlist

𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀

✰ If you think Tsukki wouldn't care that someone else is interested in his crush, you are dead wrong

✰ Even though Kei acts like he doesn't care about anything around him, this man hates losing. He's competitive as hell and also knows how to act like a little shit when he wants to.

✰ He's not super direct, he wouldn't confront the other guy directly, but he'd definitely go out of his way to be petty, condescending, you name it.

✰ Tsukki never goes out of his way to raise his hand in class, but if the guy who likes you answers a question wrong or has his hand up, Tsukki takes pleasure in correcting him or being the first to answer correctly.

✰ If you're in class with him he glances at you subtly afterwards to make sure that you notice how much obviously cooler he is than this other chump.

✰ He also just finds himself annoyed by everything the guy does, even if it's something that usually doesn't bother him.

✰ Poor dude could sneeze, and Tsukki would be glaring holes into the back of his head and scoffing.

✰ Most people assume that Kei has just decided for whatever reason to hate that person, and don't connect the dots between his friendship with you and his hatred for the guy crushing on you.

✰ Mostly because Tsukishima is very good at hiding it when he has feelings for someone. Likely because he actually insults them more than the average person.

✰ But Tadashi knows.

✰ Ohhhhh boy does Tadashi know, and he thinks its so stupid that Kei is putting all this energy into despising this poor dude and keeping up a rivalry when it would be ten times easier to just tell you how he feels and 'win' once and for all.

✰ If the guy ever tries to be physically affectionate with you, Tsukki shuts that shit down immediately.

✰ If he comes up and playfully nudges your arm, there will suddenly be a Tsukishima wedged between you, with the excuse that he wanted to show you something on his phone.

✰ You kind of start to pick up on the fact that he's jealous when he offers to walk you home right after the other guy starts meeting you in front of the school every morning.

✰ Usually if you're walking home by yourself, Kei's reaction is "Don't get kidnapped, stupid." If he's feeling extra nice that day, maybe he'll flick your forehead.

✰ Now suddenly he wants to walk you home?? Suspicious.

Kei couldn't help but stare disdainfully as he watched Makio jog up to you, catching you just before you could enter through the school's front gate.

It was early in the morning before class, and the volleyball club had just finished their early morning practice; Tsukki had been heading for the fountain to refill his water bottle when he'd spotted you out of the corner of his eye. And of course, much to his dismay, Makio followed soon after.

He was like a stupid, annoying puppy that followed you around and pissed on all the furniture. Obnoxious.

Against his own better judgment, he found himself pretending not to see the two of you, and drifting closer so that he could hear your conversation, and maybe interrupt it. (Tadashi had said that was petty, but Kei thought it was more funny than anything, watching Makio get all worked up, trying to win your attention back.)

"Y/N, would you maybe want to start walking to school together? I pass by your street on my way," Makio offered, a smile on his face that Kei could only describe as the perfect target for one of Hinata's freakish spikes. Though he might have been a bit biased.

"Oh, uhm—isn't that a bit out of your way?" you asked, tilting your head. You paused as you saw a familiar head of blonde hair drawing closer, and a smile broke out across your face. "Morning, Kei!" you called, waving over Makio's shoulder and completely missing the look of dread that passed over the boy's face.

Tsukki could barely suppress his smirk as he pretended to have just noticed you, and he made his way over to where you were standing, purposefully coming shoulder to shoulder with Makio, who he was much taller than.

"Morning, shrimp," he sighed, looking disinterested. It was rare enough that he had actually stopped to talk; usually he'd just give you a passing nod in the morning and leave it at that, but today he was fueled by an emotion that was most-certainly-not-jealousy (So quit saying I'm jealous, Yamaguchi. That'd be lame.)

"Hey. I'm gonna walk you home today."

You definitely weren't going to decline that offer, but confusion swelled up alongside the butterflies in your stomach. "What?" you laughed. "I mean—sure, but why?"

"Because I said so."

"Shouldn't she have a say in-" Makio began to interrupt but, one look from Kei had him trailing off, defeated as ever.

It was later in the afternoon, and Tsukishima was just dropping you off at your house. You had been half-hoping that he was going to confess, but you were about to go back inside, and he'd made no move to initiate anything.

"Later, L/N," he called, starting to turn to leave when your hand caught him by the sleeve of his jacket.

"Hold up, Tsukki," you interrupted, your stomach doing flips as you mustered up every ounce of courage you had. "I know why you asked to walk me home." You were totally bluffing, but maybe this would be enough to illicit a reaction?

"Oh yeah? And why is that?" he asked, turning back around and glancing down at you, one eyebrow quirked upward as he called you on your bluff.

"It's, uh—It's because- Because you—Ah, crap. . . It's 'cause—mmph."

This is not a drill: Tsukki cut you off with a kiss, and pulled back before you even had time to fully process what he had done.

"'Cause you'd get lost inside a cardboard box?" he suggested, proud smirk plastered across his face. "Don't worry, I'll keep that from happening from now on."

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima x reader #tsukki x reader #tsukishima kei imagine #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukkishima x reader #tsukkishima imagine

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soulwillower · 3 years

Text

housesitting • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: no

had this in my drafts and figured i’d finish it and post it, sorry for being away, but idk if i’ll keep writing! hope you enjoy, i’ll prob still come back and update/post fics on this account on occasion. love u guys lots and i hope you’re all doing okay <3333

warnings: drinking, unprotected sex, oral (fem and male receiving), light deepthroating/face fucking, praise kink, degradation, use of the words slut, whore, etc, suuuper unedited

(losers + reader are 21+.)

4.7k words

♡

the moment you stepped back into your flat, dropping your bag heavily on the ground with a sigh, you finally felt like you could breathe.

today and yesterday had been a nightmare - you and your roommate bill had gone home, planning to stay for a week with family and friends back home.

you'd spent the first night out with old friends at the bar enjoying yourselves and you'd even gone home with a handsome boy you'd had a crush on in high school. but just as he was about to go down on you, after you'd gone down on him despite how terrible his b.o. was, he said he wouldn’t because it was 'gross.'

you hate to admit but you were slightly tipsy and horny, so you still stayed for ten minutes of awful, boring missionary before he fell asleep. then when you'd left in the uber, a voice message from your boss threatened to fire you if you didn't come in and finish a project - so you had to scramble for a flight home, leaving bill back with your friends in maine for a few days, and now you're just ready for a shower, a nicely packed bowl, and a large dinner.

because good god, that was an awful trip.

"hello?" you call, rubbing your eyes as you walk towards your kitchen, wondering if your roommate's best friend was still here - he was supposed to stay and take care of the apartment while you were away.

but instead, your eyes landed on a complete mess in the kitchen; solo cups everywhere, trash, empty chip bags, furniture moved and counters sticky from spilt beer.

"what the fuck?" you project, eyes landing on the figure who walks into the kitchen, towel hanging low on his hips as water drips from wet, shaggy curls of hair. you meet the bright eyes of richie tozier, your roommate’s best friend.

he looks like a deer in headlights, his glasses slightly fogged as he blinks his eyes owlishly and you swear his eye lashes tangle together as he blinks. "oh, hey y/n, why are you here?"

and honestly, richie has always made your fingers tingle and your abdomen clench when he so much as looks at you, despite bill’s groaning and glaring when you refer to him as ‘hot friend number one.’ (he had a lot of hot friends).

but you’re wound up, stressed, frustrated, and exhausted so all you can do is look from the boy to the mess and then back, stunned, "this is my apartment."

he chuckles, wiping a drip of water off of his chest. you have to fight to look away, feeling burning from irritation and also something else as your chest heaves. you're just so tired, and this boy who you don't know very well has trashed your place and maybe even had a party and you just want to smoke and go to bed and-

"say, what are you doing back so soon, toots? thought i had the place to myself for the next five days." he says too casually, grinning like he's catching up with an old friend. his hand runs through his wet hair, droplets rolling down his bare skin and causing you to fight the urge to keep your eyes on his face.

you shake your head. "richie, why does my kitchen look like a scene from dexter?" you say, trying to keep yourself calm.

he tilts his head in an irksome, handsome way that makes you want to scream, "pretty sure dexter was....murdering murderers, not slamming smirnoff at three am." "clean it up! what gives you the nerve to have a party in someone else's fucking apartment? while they're gone?!" you yell, throwing your hands in the air. richie shrugs uncomfortably and you're briefly in shock at how much faith richie is putting in the small tuck he's made with the towel, barely keeping up on in his waist. he laughs somewhat nervously, "sheesh, doll, it would've been cleaned by sunday, you just surprised me and almost gave me a heart attack while i was in the shower. bill told me we could throw at your place as long as we were responsible." he sounds pretty genuine, but you're just so tightly wound and frustrated.

"well this," you gesture to your place, "is not responsible." you glare, "i'm going to shower. i've had a long fucking day, and when i get out the place better be fucking spotless and you better be gone. i'm not asking." you snap.

he grins as you push past him, turning to watch you storm towards the bathroom with an apologetic grimace on his face.

you took as long as you could in the shower, savoring every warm drop until you stepped out of your bathroom, expecting to see an empty apartment.

"what are you staring at?" the boy with the curls mutters as he fixes the wine glass he'd placed on the counter. you're pretty speechless as you look around, wondering how richie had managed to get your place more clean and inviting than how you'd left it. dishes are all clean, put away, the counters spotless; the oven is set with a timer for two hours, and the smell of lasagna invites your nose with a rumble of your stomach. two glasses of wine are poured, sitting at the counter as richie chews on his lip anxiously, hair glinting in the dark mood lighting from the lamp near the window.

"i felt bad. you seem like you had a long day and i didn't mean to make it worse." he admits.

you step forward, suddenly feeling hot as you watch him, his jaw clenched slightly and sharper than you remember it. he's actually really fucking beautiful, you realize.

"you didn't have to do all this." you say, biting your lip as you take the wine glass from his hand.

"i know." he says with a cocky smirk. your face feels hot as you watch him slide out the stools by your breakfast bar, sitting down and sipping on his own wine.

with a smile, you sit next to him. he was always the friend of bills that made you the most flustered - he's a tall, loud, garish bartender who spends most his time doing stand up at the clubs on the weekends even though he studied applied mathematics in school. he's the kind of boy that everybody has a crush on, because he's got that dorky yet beautiful sculpt; dark, curly locks, pale skin with a splattering of bright freckles. his eyes pierce yours whenever you're in the same room and his grin makes your stomach flip on it's head.

"so, why'd you come back early?" richie asks as he takes a sip, eyes staring at you brightly from behind the rim of the glass. you huff a small bitter laugh, "my boss told me i had to come back because we're understaffed. told me the extra hours are 'building charater' or something. but i was having a shitty trip anyways, so i may as well just volunteer my time."

he laughs, muttering, "good girl. doin' the lords work." you almost laugh but his words have heat sent straight between your legs and you can't tind words, suddenly in a state of shock. oh, god, this wine is getting to you.

richie's always been so hot, you're not surprised that one casual phrase had you so frantic like this. you blink, richie muttering, "y/n?" gently.

you shake your head, snapping to look at him, "y-yeah? sorry, i just- what did you say?" you're embarrassed. you're embarrassed because richie didn't even mean it like that and you didn't expect to like being called that by him and you're embarrassed because he knows now, god look at his smirk, you're done for.

"i asked why your trip was shit." he says simply, smirk on his face causing your face to heat up even more. you sigh, eyeing him, "i tried to enjoy myself and then i have the worst hookup experience of my life. then i came back to a messy apartment." you admit, shaking your head as richie pours you both another glass of wine, "the worst? that's a shame. what'd he do, throw up on you?"

you laugh, "no, nothing like that. he was a minute man, and he refused to..." you shake your head, wondering why you're admitting this to a guy you barely know. you've never hung out one-on-one before with him. "-he made me do all the work. and then he fell asleep. the worst part is, i've liked him since high school." you admit, dropping your face into your hands as richie lets out a chuckle.

richie's shaking his head, "see, those types are the ones who just shouldn't be allowed in the gene pool. lazy. missin' out on all the fun, especially with a gal like you." he says with a wink. you laugh, face feeling hot. "i'm no fun." you say bashfully.

richie raises his brows with a grin, his smile making you melt, heat pooling in between your legs from the way he runs his fingers across the rim of his glass. "i highly doubt that, doll."

his eyes dip down in a not-so-subtle way as he takes in your body, biting his lip and making you clear your throat with a heated face. "sorry you had to put up with a guy who couldn't fuck you the right way. and that your boss also fucked you. and that i ruined your night."

you shake your head, "i just had so much pent up stress from the last few days." he's eyeing you, and you wonder if he wants to fuck you as bad as you want to be fucked right now. would bill kill you? yeah, he would, but richie is so damn fine and you were left so high and dry last night that you’re just about ready to jump onto his lap.

as if reading your mind, richie hums, "bill's still in maine, yeah?" he asks casually, eyes fluttering to the timer on the oven that ready an hour.

you nod, "yeah, he's actually hanging out with the guy i hooked up with tonight." you say with a light huff. richie groans a laugh, "no fuckin' way. i promise, not all of bill's friends are bad at sex." richie says with a grin, and you laugh. "you sure about that?"

he hums, eyeing you but not responding.

“guess i’ll just have to find out.” you say boldly, butterflies fluttering in your chest when richie shoots you a deep look, slicking his lips through a smile. he hums, "so i don't get it, what was so bad about it?"

you sigh, "he wouldn't go down on me. said he was 'too tired' and ‘too much work’ then he wanted to lay down so i rode him for, like, five minutes and then he fell asleep."

richie's laughing, and you swat his arm as your face burns, "it's not funny! it's humiliating, richie."

he snorts, standing up to place your empty glasses in the sink, recycling the empty bottle. "sorry, doll. that's just shit. he should've at least had the decency to make you cum."

you almost choke on your spit at his bluntness, face blossoming and thighs tingling. "y-yeah."

"anyways, i can get going, if you'd like. guess i’m done being the house sitter. the lasagna will be done in an hour or so." he says with a nod, eyes staring at yours fiercely. you hum, standing up as richie walks closer. "or you could stay." you say, looking up at him from where he stands in front of you.

"you lonely or somethin', doll?" he rumbles lowly, lifting a brow. biting your lip, you swallow, "something like that." you say, lifting a challenging brow.

“so if it was stan here, or mike...” he starts, walking towards you until he’s close enough that you’re afraid he can hear your heart thump, “you’d want them to stay?”

you swallow dryly, “if bill lived with someone else, would you want to stay?” his smirk makes you clench your thighs. his long fingers raise and curl around your jaw, tilting your head back before tucking hair behind your ear. you swallow roughly, his hands are so big. his rings that he wears are thick and ice cold and feel so good against your warm face.

your heart pounds as he smirks, eyes challenging you. the waiting is killing you.

"you've got a pretty mouth." he whispers, sending shocks all around your body. "y-you've got a pretty everything." you stutter out, feeling extremely flustered and suddenly shy. "thanks, honey." he says with a laugh, making you feel even more bashful.

"y'know..." he drawls, hand settled on your neck, caressing your jaw, "i've wanted you since i first saw you."

you can't help the whimper as it falls from your lips. it's a small, shy noise of need and it makes richie beam a beautiful, sexy grin that has your knees weak. "please..." you whimper, eyes staring at his, the suspense making you anxious with need.

"please what?" he asks quietly, clearly loving the tense air. you almost roll your eyes, "kiss me." you say, rushed.

he pulls away slightly, giving you a stern look. “please.” he says, smirk creeping onto his face. you burn in slight humiliation because he knows what he’s doing.

“please kiss me, richie.” you finally say, swallowing.

"good girl." he says with a smirk and you feel like you're burning up under his gaze. but then he’s leaning in and his lips are on yours and wow, richie is a good kisser. he’s pulling you towards him tightly, hungrily; his teeth bite gently at your lower lip as his tongue swipes your own, pulling you into him. he was needy in the way he kissed you, a dominance in him that you're not surprised to find. you craved it, you craved him; and then he's pushing you back, up onto the stool as he moves between your legs.

his mouth is then marking your neck, claiming you, and you love it, the feeling of his teeth against your warm skin, the sweetness of his smile against you.

his hands brush up your thighs and past the hem of your shorts, legs spread so he’s pressed flush against you, his bulge so close to where you want him. "richie," you let out a mangled whimper, hair knotting in his soft curls. he laughs, lips finding your ear, "always wondered how you'd sound when i had you like this," he says quietly, "can't wait to hear what pretty noises you make when i'm inside you."

his fingers find the damp seat of your panties, dancing across it and making your legs shake with anticipation and neediness. you’re already a soaked, mewling mess as you grasp for him, hungry and needy and you want him closer, closer.

he pulls you off the stool, then, and you both stare at each other for a moment. he almost dies at the state of you; already fucked-out, hair mussed up and still wet, your eyes lidded and your lips kiss-swollen.

you can’t believe your eyes, richie’s curly hair fluffy from being freshly washed, the taste of wine on his lips, the freckles, the collarbone peeking from his collar, the smirk that could melt black ice. he looks like he could tear you apart. you hope he will.

“you’re hot.” you blurt.

he rushes at you again, melding your lips together with a searing hot kiss as he shoves you backwards towards the bedrooms.

"bill told me to stay away from you," richie says as he walks you down the hall, your feet nearly stumbling and shaky as you walk backwards, lips seeking his every moment, "he said i'd ruin you." he adds.

you lift a brow, too flustered to say anything as you stare up at richie, inhaling sharply as his hand trails down to cup your ass lightly, still walking backwards. "he knows how pretty i think you are. how hot, how... perfect." he whispers into the skin of your neck, raising goosebumps. "but i want to fuck you so well you forget your name. i don't care about what bill wants."

you look at him, desperate and needy. "i don't give a fuck what bill says. i want you, please." you say, pawing richie and kissing him needily. richie’s leaving dark love bites on the column of your neck and you know it's wrong, and you shouldn't, but you let him kick open the door into bill's room, guiding you to bill’s bed instead of yours. “please, wan’ you so bad,” you pant, the needy throbbing getting unbearable, desperate for some release.

“how bad, pretty girl?” he asks, smoothing down your hair. biting your lip, you sit on the bed, eyes level with the zipper of his pants. the sight of you staring up at him from below his hard, clothed cock makes his pants feel even tighter and he hums, "you sure?"

you nod enthusiastically, "wanna make you feel good, please." he lets out a soft noise as your hands go to pull down his fly, “filthy girl." he says lowly, making heat drip from your core. you shift, trying to relieve some pressure. you feel hot when you realize you want him to degrade you, that you love it. “god, say that again.” you moan, mouthing around his bulge. his hands come to caress your face, watching you,

"you like being my little whore, huh? so good just for me. bet you’ve thought of my cock in your mouth before, haven’t you?"

you nod, biting your lip. he grins and you’re moving to pull him out of his pants, trying to conceal your shocked face as you take in his size. your cheeks heat up, hand grazing his length and meeting his own hand as he pumps himself a few times, lining his tip up to your lips.

“open.” he says simply and you comply willingly, laying your tongue out. he’s teasing his cock on your tongue and you’re whining, desperate to feel him in your mouth, to make him feel good.

“just wait until i say so, baby.” he says, slapping your tongue lightly with his cock and making you shift on your legs, dripping wet.

he groans, one hand coming to hold your head softly, making you tingle. you watch as he stares at you, lips parted and eyes blown wide. his cock is glistening with precum as it lays on your tongue. “suck my cock pretty girl.” he mutters, caressing your cheek. so you close your lips, slowly sucking on his tip before taking a bit more, moving your head slowly.

you lick a stripe up the base of his cock and up to his tip, swirling your tongue. he groans in relief and pleasure as you take as much of him into your mouth as possible slowly, bobbing your head and taking as much in as you can. he’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, and the need to feel him inside you and to make him fall apart has you taking him as deep as you can.

you take him deeper, your eyes clouding with tears as you try not to gag and he hums, hands pulling your hair from your eyes - you can tell he’s straining not to buck his hips as you bob up and down on him.

“god, you feel so good, y/n.” he groans. you pull back, sucking on his tip as you swirl your tongue, catching your breath. his hands fall to your head and he gently, slowly thrusts his hips slightly. you gag, mouth wet as he pulls out of your mouth and wipes the trails of spit from your lips. “do it again, please.” you gasp, and he grins. “such a slut.”

he guides your face back to him, “tap me three times if it’s too much.” you take him in again, holding as long as you can and loving the way he’s thrusting into your mouth. he groans, both hands on your head, his chest rising and falling shakily.

"god, that’s so perfect. my good little toy.” he rumbles and your chest flutters. you feel him twitch and you sense he may be close, so you start to bob your head again.

he stops you, "no, pretty girl. i'm going to cum inside of you, okay?" you swallow, mouth dry, "okay." please.

he sinks to his knees, gently pushing you so you're laying down on the bed again, pulling your legs so they hang off the side of the mattress. he's pulling your shorts off, your underwear following as he spreads your legs wider, kissing your thighs. “look at that pretty pussy. soaked, all for me.”

you're breathing shakily as one finger rises to gently rub your slit, making you moan softly. his touch is feathery-light, teasing you and making you whine, moving your hips. "shhh." he says softly, bringing his tongue to lick up your slit. you moan out, relieved to have some sort of satisfaction. richie's hand moves up to push up your top, thumbing your nipples as he starts to suck your clit. he pins your hips down, "be a good slut and stay still for me." he says, burying his face as your toes start to curl in pleasure, the burning sensation of pleasure increasing.

he rubs circles into your hips with one hand as he slides two fingers into your heat, making you whimper, his fingers start to pick up pace as he continues to circle your clit with his tongue. his long fingers curl up inside of you, still pushing into you fast and rough, hitting your g-spot. you moan, “richie, harder, please.”

he hums, lifting his head as you gasp for breath, "since you asked so nicely, doin' everything i say." his fingers are moving again, faster than before. his tongue runs over your clit, practically moaning into your heat, fingers moving faster. you moan unabashedly, feeling yourself clench and knowing you're about to cum. your legs wrap around his shoulders as your hips move slightly,

“cum on my tongue like a good little slut, okay baby?” he says gently. you moan, eyes shutting as you see stars. you're hitting your high and then richie's watching you, praising you as you fall apart, letting out soft whimpers.

then you're sitting up as he rises from his knees, licking his lips. pulling him into a searing kiss, he crawls on top of you, rutting into you a few times before pulling back.

he's pulling himself out of his pants and you swallow around your words, resisting the shocked face that threatens to creep on to you when you see how big he is. you moan as you watch him pump himself, pulling off his shirt as you pull off your own.

he grins as he looks at you, "so good for me, my little slut. you want me to fuck you now?" he asks and you eagerly pull yourself up to your elbows, "yes, please, rich, fuck me."

he hums, pushing his cock against your slit, the tip rubbing your sensitive clit and making you moan sharply. he continues to tease you, one hand on his cock and the other holding your waist. "use me, please." you whisper in his ear, hand holding him to you from the back of his neck.

he lets out a sharp breath, hand snaking to your neck and pushing you back onto the mattress. "you want me to use you?" he asks, thrusting against you slowly, teasing your slit. "like my little plaything?"

"yes, god, richie, please-" but then he's sliding into you all at once, his large cock stretching you as he moves his hips, sheathing into you. you feel so full that all you can do is gasp, richie kissing your forehead as his hand rests on your throat. "gonna fuck you on bill's bed, okay? and you're gonna be good for me, right? my good little cockslut."

you nod yes, "so good for you." you say, and he smiles. he starts to pull out, easing back in and starting a shallow rhythm, getting you used to his size. you're euphoric as he starts to languidly pump into you, one hand on your neck and the other on your chest, palming your tit.

he starts thrusting into you, picking up speed - rough and fast. his hips buck up against you, pulling back fully before filling you up. his thumb gently grazes your sensitive clit and you grip his bare back, raking your nails down in pleasure. "do you walk around thinking of how it'd feel to get fucked by me, baby?" he whispers in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. you moan, "yes, r-rich, i've wanted you for s-so long," you trail off into a moan. "feels so good." you mutter, panting, words babbling from your mouth incoherently.

you barely have a warning before you cum a second time, clenching so hard that richie's hips sstutter, his moan ringing with your own. he looks down at you, thumb trailing into your open mouth, you eagerly sucking on it like a lollipop. "god, you're so tight, doll. such a good little whore for me. i bet you'd let me do anything to you, anywhere."

your legs are shaking as he keeps thrusting you through your orgasm, feeling sensitive and euphoric. he smirks, "yeah? bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, just my little fuck toy. so perfect for me."

you nod, kissing him needily, tears from oversensitivity pricking your eyes. "want you filling me up richie, feels so good."

"anywhere?" he asks, eyebrows knit in pleasure as he fucks into you. he's so possesive, it makes your face warm. you nod, "anywhere."

he's smirking, and you know he's thinking about how shocked bill would be if he found out. it makes it that much hotter as you turn and see the picture of bill and richie on the wall near the door.

then richie pulls out of you and you're being flipped onto your knees, richie's large hand pushing your face towards the soft sheets. you can't help the moans that escape you as he spits onto your dripping cunt, fingers playing with your used pussy as you moan, sensitive and still desperate. "pretty baby, all fucked out. can you take one more?" he asks, hands roaming your ass. you nod, yelping gently when a hand smacks down on your ass.

"can you take one more?" he asks. "yes!" you moan into the mattress with need. he mutters, "good girl." as he pushes into you, the new angle making you moan loudly. with every thrust, he pushes you down on the mattress, making you grip against the edge of it with pleasure. one of his hands drops down to rub your clit, and you buck needily against his touch. after only a few minutes, the combination of the snap of his hips, the few slaps on your ass, and his hands on your clit push you over the edge, clenching around his cock as you whimper. your legs barely stay up after you cum, and his arm wraps around you to hold you as he pounds into you, chasing his own high.

"yes, my pretty girl, so good." he praises again, hips speeding up. you think he's close because his breathing is faster, hands gripping your hips hard as he kisses down your spine, "take it." he whispers onto your back as he finally cums, pulling out and finishing on your ass and lower back, moaning lightly.

you can't believe what just happened as richie disappears, returning at the speed of light with a damp washcloth to clean you off. you blush at how sweet the gesture is before he falls next to you on the bed, sighing. "i'll be honest, i didn't expect that."

you laugh, "neither did i. i thought i was coming home to an empty apartment and some microwave ramen."

he's staring at you, a smirk on his face, “i'd apologize again but holy fuck, you look so pretty when you cum.” you don't know what to say, feeling hot as you roll your eyes with a grin. he laughs and kisses you, “you’re cute, you know.”

"says you." you mutter against his lips. you thank god bill won't be back soon as you watch his best friend rise, naked, from beside you and grab a spare hoodie and gym shorts from bill's closet, throwing them on before handing you his own shirt to wear.

"so, lasagna?" he asks, glasses askew slightly. you laugh as you stand on shaky legs, "it's the least you could do." you joke.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @chl0bee @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie @decafcoffeew @etaerealboy

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #losers club smut #losers x reader

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imagines-hoarder · 3 years

Text

House Warming - Bucky Barnes

Summary: Hopping through some standout moments in making Bucky's apartment a place worth coming home to. (This definitely could have been a headcanon but I refuse to do headcanons at this time.)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2.6 k

Warnings: fluff with a lil angst

A/N: I have finished all the assignments left for my degree and decided to sit down and write today. This is probably trash but idc because it has been written and therefore I may as well release it. It's been a while since I've written and years since I've truly tried dipping my foot into a different fandom, but I figured I'd give it ago. Please don't forget to leave comments, I love interacting with y'all. Thank you @bwbatta for the dividers! xoxox

Masterlist

It all started with a damn candle. A ‘sandalwood & vanilla orchid’ candle tucked away in a reused cyan jar.

“I found it at the art market down the street last weekend,” you said as you placed it in the corner of the living room window. “You know we have to support local business.”

“And I shouldn’t assume this is your way of telling me my place smells, right?” Bucky quipped from the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He’d just gotten back from a 12-day mission with Sam, and the last thing he had on his to-do list was to buy candles.

The smile grew firmer as you put yourself into his arms. “Complete opposite, actually. I bought it cause I thought it smelled just like you.” You hid your face within his chest, and he thanked the stars that you couldn’t see the warmth rising in his cheeks. His barren apartment felt a little bigger with a candle in the windowsill.

From there it became decorative pillows… and a couch to hold them. The small living room had quickly become a mess by the time you both had brought it up to his fourth-floor apartment, furniture wrap and packing peanuts strewn everywhere.

“I still don’t know why you needed to buy a sofa this big,” Bucky grumbled as he leaned over the back of the beige three-seater, looking down at your splayed out across its cushions.

“Don’t get me wrong, babe. I love the transient bachelor look you’ve got going on here, but you need more furniture than an armchair,” you mumbled between heavy breaths as you tried to regain control from maneuvering the couch into the apartment.

“And the pillows?” A laugh fell from your lips as you watched him look at the indigo cushions with a remarkable amount of disdain. Who buys pillows made just to look nice on a couch?

“They add character.”

“I didn’t think character was an area we were lacking in. Transient bachelor, remember?” He walked around the couch and shifted you over so he could lay beside you. You instinctively curled into him as you both closed your eyes. For a second the place felt like home. “I also don't know how you plan for us both to fit on this couch every day along with the pillows.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You looked up from his chest with a mischievous glint that made his heart skip. “It’s a pullout bed too. I’m sure it’ll be firm enough even for you.”

The home improvements didn’t stop there, but Bucky refused to admit how much he enjoyed them.

He liked having a place and person to come home to. After you had bought neutral bedding for his room, you’d spent an evening putting together ‘his and hers’ trestle bookcases for either side of the bed. He’d try to keep up his crabbish demeanor as you argued that ‘you needed a place to set your books for when you slept over,’ and a side table could no longer contain the small collection you had spilling over. Even still, he couldn’t find it in himself to banter much about the minor changes you made to make the place feel lived in.

And God, did he love living with you around. Between missions, his continued therapy, and trying to find his place in a world that had tripled in opportunity since his youth, he knew that he never had to question who he was and where he fit in when he walked through that door. You still occasionally slept at your own apartment when he was away, but he could always count on you being asleep in his bed by the time he came home.

One toothbrush in a glass became two, and from there, hand creams, face masks, and cotton pads cluttered the bathroom counter, packed away in their clear containers. You had made sure to keep lavender bath salts on hand for the late-night baths you took together when he woke up in a panic, unable to close his eyes again for fear of falling back into a nightmare.

It took time and working through plenty of hesitation before Bucky could progress from sleeping on the pull-out sofa to the bed, but ever since, you found your nights attended by restlessness whenever you weren’t wrapped in his arms.

Once your lease was up and you had a lengthy conversation about your inability to rest without him, you quickly filled the apartment with brown boxes. Bucky had been no less than astounded by how much you fit into them. From then on, no nook or cranny was without a vase or shelf.

“How many mugs does one house need,” Bucky asked skeptically while he continued to carefully pull them from their paper wrappings.

“Oh, come on! They’re fun!” You exclaimed, wrapping an arm around his waist as you took the Charlie Brown mug from his metal palm. “Plus, we go through enough coffee around here to justify some extra mugs.”

After you put the mug into the lowest shelf of the cabinet, you busied yourself with filing away the spices one cabinet over. No matter how much he tried, Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from you, lost in your own world as you chipped away at unpacking your belongings, making yours his, and vice versa. The domesticity in the little things you did was something he could get used to, and he wanted to return the feeling of normalcy as much as he could. He was far from the average boyfriend, but you remind him that could be a good thing. You never wanted to be average, but in these small moments, as you both did what normal couples do, he felt that he could create a new normal with you.

“So your Christmas gift came in already, and it’s too big to hide.” Your awkward tone carried over the phone as he exited a station ten minutes away from the apartment. Even though his neck ached and the cold nipped at the top of his ears, he couldn’t stop himself from releasing a breathy laugh.

“I thought you said you were good at this gift-giving thing, doll,” he teased you as he maneuvered his way to your shared apartment.

“Oh, don’t you fret, baby. I am the best gift-giver in all of New York City. I just slightly miscalculated how big this thing was and have realized it won’t fit into our closet.”

He tsked with a smirk on his face. “If you say so.”

“Hey, you gave me my Christmas gift a week ago.”

“Yeah, that’s because I didn’t know if I’d be back before Christmas.”

“Well, you will be, and I’m glad you are,” your voice softened lovingly as he pulled out his keys to the front of the building.

Bucky had gotten used to your love, but he’d vow to never take it for granted. All the pain he’d endured had somehow led him to you, the person who didn’t see his broken pieces as a burden or a project but as a potential to be whatever he desired.

When he hung up the call and unlocked the apartment, his brows furrowed into one; the apartment was pitch black. It was only when he heard your soft footstep walking towards the entrance that his face relaxed.

Before he could even kiss you, you had your palms firmly placed over his eyes. “No peeking; your gift is in the living room.”

The uncertainty in what you could have got him made his stomach clench. “Is it an animal?”

You slowly dragged him through the front hallway, making sure to avoid crashing into the entryway storage table. “I’m sorry to say it’s not alive.”

“Is it a nice welcome-home spread with candles, fruit, and the pullout bed all set up?”

He could feel your eyes roll to completion. “Easy there, sergeant. That’s for later.” You pulled him down to sit on the couch, and he kept his eyes closed as you pulled your palms away, moving to turn on a lamp. “Okay, Buck. open up.”

When he opened his eyes, it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing nestled against the wall; when he did recognize it, he could only form two words “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit indeed.”

He was quick to stand up and cross the room, eager to get a good look at the walnut centerpiece. “Does it work?”

You scoffed as you moved to kiss his cheek. “What kind of girlfriend would get her ancient boyfriend a broken phonograph console?”

He didn’t even attempt to answer as he bent down to wrap his arms around you, his lips eager to find yours. “A fucking Magnavox radio and phonograph,” he mumbled against your lips.

“A working Magnavox radio and phonograph, you mean.” When you pulled away and saw that his face held a glow reserved only for special occasions, you knew you had made the right choice. “I’ve got some records wrapped up if you want to open those now too.”

You yelped in surprise as he picked you up and made his way towards your bedroom. “I’ve got something else I’d like to unwrap first.”

Bucky Barnes had grown up in a period when the average family could seldom afford nice things or much of anything at all. The Great Depression has resulted in the slogan ‘Make it do or Do without,” being ingrained into what memories he still had, and 'doing without' had become commonplace for the Barnes household.

That’s why every gadget and gizmo you added to your household left him in awe. For much of his life, including the decades he spent as a weapon for Hydra, he hadn’t been allowed to call anything his own; he was still getting used to living so plentifully, both in love and in life. But now, he could barely move and he thought it had all been taken away from him.

The attack was supposed to have been contained, at least three miles away from the apartment. Anything less, and he would have made you visit your family upstate instead of just suggesting it. By the time Sam had told him that there’d been some confirmed damage within a block of the apartment, Bucky was already on his way home. He couldn’t think of anything but the worse: you trapped in a collapsing apartment building or pulling up to find no building there at all.

He felt his lungs fill with air again as he pulled up to your building, completely intact regardless of the severe damage less than a five-minute walk away. It felt like both seconds and hours between when he parked his outside and unlocked the front door.

“He doesn’t have his phone on him, mom. How am I supposed to…” you trailed off from your call as he walked into the living room, turning your head away from the Breaking News report you’d been glued to for the last hour. “Wait, I’ll call you back. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll call you back.” Your eyes never left his as he walked over to you, hanging up the phone with worry in your eyes. “Buck, are you oka-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he pulled you off of the couch and into his arms. His grip was less reserved than he usually kept, but he made sure not to hurt you, eager to keep you in his arms, where he knew you were safe. A single tear fell from the corner of his eyes as he realized the real possibility that he could have lost you if you lived even 5 minutes closer to the attack. You stayed like that for a while, gathered tightly in his arms as you both settled onto the floor You didn’t push him to verbalize his fear; you already understood it. And it took this occurrence for him to realize he never wanted to experience this feeling again.

Bucky was quiet for the rest of the evening, and while it worried you, his fear had been evident enough not to require questioning. The city-wide cleanup had lasted all hours of the night; for the first time in all the years you had lived in the city, the sounds of the whirring of vehicles clearing debris off the street had been too close to ignore. The sun was rising before a single word was said between you and Bucky, tangled together on the sofa as the first ray of light made itself known.

“You’ve spent so much time piecing this place together, doll.” His voice was raspy. You know he hates when you see him cry, but his pain was always evident in his voice. “And it could have been all wiped away in seconds.” You let a heavy silence settle between you as you traced a pattern into his shoulder. He couldn’t bear to say it, but you knew what he meant: You could have been gone within seconds. “I just… I don’t ever want to feel like this again.”

You’d both gone through so much to make your relationship work. Nearly normal was as close as you would ever attain to being an average couple. The distance, the days without contact, and the ever-present fear that anything could pull you away from one another was something that had taken time to work through.

You looked around the living room and saw the place you had built together. There were photos and books scattered on any flat surface, a leftover mug half-filled with cold tea, and a record left out on the phonograph. The apartment looked like what love felt like; a messy combination of everything you and Bucky. But this apartment could not contain everything that ‘home’ was; only Bucky could do that.

The words fell from your mouth before you could restrain them. “Maybe we should move.”

Your eyes found each other, and you both sat in silence, though it felt lighter, invigorated with the new proposition.

Before he even responded, you could see tension dissolve from his shoulders. “Where do you want to move?”

You hadn’t thought that far ahead, only being able to provide him with a shrug. “I don’t know… maybe upstate, maybe somewhere else.”

“Your mom would like you being Upstate.”

“My mom would love us living next door too, but I don’t see that in the cards anytime soon.” You got a ghost of a smile for that.

“We could probably afford a house if we moved out there,” he said as he moved his lips to meet your forehead.

“Buck, I’d move anywhere with you. As long as we have each other, then we have all we need to rebuild this place.”

He pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head, and you swore you felt his chest flutter. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna look for some places, bigger ones too.” He tilted your head up to find your eyes, and you were sure that all of the love you carried for each other was incredibly visible at that moment. “You have made this apartment something worth coming home to. Now let me give you a house to make a home.” Your skin tingled with adoration as you pulled him as close as possible, burying your face into his neck.

You didn’t want to let go. You wanted to lay in this room, in this bed, and in this moment until the end of time, but you knew that something bigger and better was on the horizon for you and Bucky.

“All I heard is that you’re buying me a house.” His laugh was music to your ears.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff

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