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#those last three gifs are kind of bad sorry
reiderwriter · 4 months
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Unhappy Holidays
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆
Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).
Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”
A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).
Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆
Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.
Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.
If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.
It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.
Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.
A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.
He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.
Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.
The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.
“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”
“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”
“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”
You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.
He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.
Your resentment still burned though.
Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.
You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.
The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.
After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.
You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.
In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.
The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.
Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.
“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.
“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.
“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”
“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”
He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.
The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.
Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.
Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.
Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.
It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.
You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.
“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.
Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.
A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.
As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.
Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.
You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.
By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.
Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.
The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.
Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.
“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.
So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.
With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.
“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.
“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”
“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.
But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.
“You're sure he won't be there?”
“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”
“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”
“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”
“Done.”
–X–
Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.
You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.
“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.
“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.
“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.
“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.
“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”
You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.
“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”
“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.
“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.
“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”
You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.
“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.
Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.
“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.
“I was invited.”
“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”
“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.
You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.
“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.
“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.
“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.
Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.
“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”
“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.
“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”
“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.
“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.
“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”
“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”
“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”
He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.
“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.
“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.
You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.
His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.
He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.
He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.
“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”
“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”
“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.
“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.
“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”
Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.
He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.
“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.
“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.
“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.
It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.
He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.
“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”
“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.
He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.
“Liar.”
His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.
“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”
“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”
“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.
There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.
You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.
It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.
“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.
“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.
“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”
You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.
You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.
Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.
You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.
You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.
It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.
“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.
“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.
Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.
“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.
“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.
“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”
He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.
He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.
“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”
He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.
The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.
His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.
The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.
“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.
“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”
“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”
“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”
He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.
“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”
“Fuck. Why?”
“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”
You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.
He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.
“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”
“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”
“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.
“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.
“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”
“You just know how to piss them off?”
“Morgan says it comes naturally.”
“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”
A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.
“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.
“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”
“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.
“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.
“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”
He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.
“Oh my god you're an idiot.”
“When you're around, yes.”
“And that means I'm equally stupid.”
“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”
You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.
“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.
“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”
“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”
He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.
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inmyicyworld · 9 months
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Wakanda
pt. 2
Summary: You visit Bucky in Wakanda, and the hidden feelings are finally coming out.
Words count: 2.6k.
Warnings: smut, best friends to lovers, Bucky has one arm, he's insecure, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pet names.
Author’s note: I finally wrote this because this scenario couldn't let me sleep peacefully. I also have an idea for the second part (with Bucky’s new arm🤭), so I'll write it if you like this part <3
*English is not my first language, sorry if you find any mistakes*
masterlist my ao3 ko-fi
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You finally got permission to visit Bucky in Wakanda again since he was permanently living there to get rid of the Winter Soldier program and learn how to live a normal life again. You were there only three times because Princess Shuri and Ayo insisted that too much contact with other people might distract Bucky. 
The last time you were there with Steve and, even if you loved him to death, you couldn't deny the disappointment that you barely spent any time with Bucky alone. He was your best friend since you and Steve saved him in Bucharest, and you had the biggest crush on him for about the same amount of time.
You jumped right into his arms as soon as you walked down the hill and saw him standing near the lake. He hugged you back, burying his face into your neck, and it was truly the moment that you never wanted to end. Bucky smelled like fresh air mixed with some kind of seasoning, and fuck, he looked good. In traditional Wakandian clothes that were covering his missing arm too, a low bun on the back of his head with a few springs of hair around his face, and smooth and tanned skin from the work under the sun.
You two quickly moved to his hut with the food that you bought at the local cafe owned by a sweet old man. And somewhere after that, when you were eating on the floor covered with many blankets and colorful pillows and talking about your lives, everything went downhill. 
Food was forgotten. Somehow you ended up sitting on Bucky’s lap while you were connected in the most passionate and dirty kiss you ever had. Your hands were tightly holding his face, and his right one had a strong grip on your waist to hold you closer.
“Bucky…” You moaned in his mouth while your hips were grinding into his hardness, which was so obvious through the clothes. You both were so lost in the moment, sharing a desperate kiss full of tongues and teeth, trying to get to each other as close as possible.
It felt so right, like it was supposed to happen a long time ago, and now all of your feelings just couldn't be kept inside.
Bucky couldn't help but groan under his breath when your hand slipped into his hair, completely destroying his low bun. Your nails on his scalp felt majestic, and his brain became fuzzy with your gentle yet confident touches. Bucky moved his hand from your waist to your thigh, squeezing the soft and warm skin a little bit lower than your shorts. 
When he pulled away, you tried to follow his mouth, almost addicted to the taste and the feeling of his lips on yours.
“Fuck, doll, that’s not how I imagined it.” His face became sad and almost apologetic, and you saw that the corners of his now red lips moved downward in disappointment. “Not here, not with only one arm... Fuck, I can’t even touch you the way I want to.” His hand tightened on your hip, and you gave him a sad smile. Not that those things mattered to you, but your heart still hurt because Bucky felt that way.
“I don’t care about it. I just want you, Bucky, if you want me too, of course.” Your voice was soft and gentle, soothing his nerves a little bit.
“You can’t imagine how much I want it, but I can’t do much with one hand; fuck, it’s so bad, I’m sorry...” Bucky’s eyes closed and his head fell lower, but you could still see a pink flush on his cheeks.
“Bucky, I want it; I want you, and your hand is not a problem, okay?” He deeply inhaled when your hands took his face and your lips were back on his. The kiss wasn’t so harsh and desperate; it was more deep and passionate, like you both tried to feel each other. “Why don’t you just lay back on the pillows, and I’ll do everything?” You bit your lip, suddenly feeling slightly nervous, and put your right hand on his chest, pushing Bucky back on the pile of pillows behind him so he was sitting in a reclined position.
You saw the hesitation in his eyes, and you waited a few seconds, gently rubbing your fingers over his beard, so he could process your idea.
“Okay.” 
You got closer, sitting more comfortably on top of him. One of your hands pressed onto the pillows near Bucky’s body, and the other one landed on his firm chest, playing with the red clothes that he was wearing. Bucky lifted his hand, gently grabbing your face and kissing you again. His soft lips and slow movements of his tongue inside your mouth made you moan into a kiss.
“Can I take it off?” You mumbled, slightly pulling down the red material. More of his soft, tanned skin was shown, and you tried to hold yourself together and not overstep the line. Bucky’s pupils were dilated, almost completely hiding your favorite blues. He was closely watching your moving lips, as if he couldn’t get enough. 
“Mhm, but— please, can we leave this on?” He pointed to his shoulder, covered in blue material.
“If you feel more comfortable that way, then we can. But we don’t have to, if you suggest it only because of me.” You started to untangle his clothes, still watching his face to notice any signs of discomfort. 
“Just leave it on, okay?” 
“Okay.” As you removed the clothes from his chest, leaving the cover on his left shoulder, allowing you to see his perfectly sculpted body, your lips left soft kisses on Bucky’s cheek, going down to his neck and to his abs. You stopped there, feeling how the body underneath you tensed, and his hand gripped the duvet so hard that his knuckles became white. “Bucky?” 
“‘M okay, it’s just been so long for me. Didn’t get used to feeling that way. And I want you so bad, doll, I can’t even explain it.” He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. You felt that his cock was painfully hard underneath you, and just thinking about touching it made you ten times wetter.
“You can have me, Bucky. Do you want me to take the rest of our clothes?” You moved your hips a little bit, getting an almost desperate whine from Bucky. He looked so good like this: slightly disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, red lips, and eyes full of lust and need. And he was completely yours, fuck.
“Yes, please.” 
You placed a quick kiss on his lips before getting up. Bucky’s eyes were following your every move as you took off your shorts and t-shirt, staying in the cooling air only in your simple black underwear. But Bucky was looking at you like you were the most delicious and precious thing in the world, like he wanted to make love to you and completely destroy your body at the same time. 
“Doll– fuck, everything else too, please.” He licked his lips, unconsciously moving his hips from the lack of attention. Your eyes slipped to his crotch, seeing how his cock was very visible through layers of clothes.
You just smiled at his desperation but still reached to the back to unclip your bra and then slide your panties down your legs. You didn’t waste any more time, going back to Bucky and finally completely taking off his clothes. 
“Holy fuck…” Your mouth went completely dry when you pulled down his black boxers. You never found this part of a man’s body that attractive, but it was the prettiest dick you had ever seen. Thick and long, with a vein going around it and a slight curve towards his press. The shiny drop of pre-cum on the head made you instantly want to lick it, but the mumble of your name and calloused hand on the lower part of your back brought your attention back to Bucky.
“You’re going to kill me, doll. C’mere, please, I want– need to touch you. Need to kiss you.” Before you could even say something or move, his hand slipped under your ass and, without much effort, lifted you on top of him. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I want to worship you and make you feel good; I’m so sorry that I can’t.” 
“Bucky,” you said, laying down on his chest. “I promise that when you get your new arm, I’ll let you fuck me however you want to, okay? But for now, I want to take care of you.” The feeling of your hard nipples pressing against his firm chest sent shivers down your spine, and the hand on your back made you want to grind on Bucky like a bitch in heat. “Please, touch me, baby.”
“You shouldn’t say shit like this to me, doll. I won’t let you go until you can’t even fucking think straight. Fuck–  how are you so soft…” Bucky’s hand was now exploring your body, gripping your ass, tracing your stomach, and going straight to your sensitive boobs. He never wanted to have both arms as much as he does now, to touch every curve of your body and find everything that makes you feel good.
“Bucky!” Your hands pressed against his chest, and your head fell back with a moan when he pinched your nipple in between his fingers. He chuckled softly before sliding his hand down, right to your dripping core.
“Doll, look at you.” His eyes were glued to the place where his fingers traced your folds. “Is this all for me?” 
“Y-yes, Bucky, please…” You almost cried at the feeling that he gave you. Even if it was a long time for him, Bucky definitely didn’t forget how to please a woman. Your legs desperately wanted to close from the stimulation on the clit, but since you were spread on top of him, you couldn’t do anything but whine and dig your nails into the hot skin under your hands. “Don’t tease me, just— Fuck!” 
“Taking my fingers so good, doll.” You knew that he was smiling because of your reaction as two thick digits slid inside of you, filling you so well but not enough at the same time. “You’re already ready for my cock, huh? Wanna feel how this pretty pussy stretches around me. C'mon, baby, help me.” Bucky moved his hips upward, and you felt how his dick was pressing on your ass.
“You have a dirty mouth, Barnes.” You laughed before reaching to the back, grabbing his cock, and lifting your body at the same time. You put the tip at your entrance, running his length through your folds and letting the head bump your clit as he collected your wetness, until you both couldn’t handle the teasing anymore. Bucky put his hands on your ass, pressing on top and allowing you to slowly take him inside of you.
It was too much. The burn of him stretching you was slightly painful, but it made you feel so full, as if the two pieces of puzzles finally added up. You both moaned, your head fell back, and you tried to go slowly and adjust to his size.
Bucky’s hand tightened on your hip, probably leaving red marks. He breathed deeply to control his fast-beating heart. You felt so fucking good, all wet and tight for him, that it was hard not to move his hips into you. But it was obvious that you needed some time based on your tensed body and slightly opened mouth.
“Bucky…” Your eyes were flattering, not being able to completely focus on his face. You thought that you could just fuck him and take control, but you didn’t expect to be this cock drunk before either of you even made a move.
“So pretty lookin’ like this baby.”
“‘M so full…” You moaned, gripping Bucky’s hand and interlacing your fingers. 
You found a comfortable position, holding yourself with one hand on Bucky’s chest. The first movement of your hips was shocking, sending goosebumps all over your body. You both loudly moaned when you moved up, until he almost slipped out of you, and then down, burying his cock deeply inside. 
Bucky’s lower half slightly moved up when his non-existent left arm wanted to grab your hips, and you must’ve noticed the disappointment and anger written on his face because you leaned a little bit lower and freed your hand from his grip, moving it to his face. 
“That’s okay, Buck, just relax, please? Don’t worry.” You cooed in the softest voice. Your hips started to slowly move at a stable pace.
“You’re so perfect, baby.” He mumbled, and you felt that his body started to thrust into yours, so his cock perfectly touched your g-spot.
It became more intense with every minute. The little hut was filled with the smell of sex and the sound of your moans, combined with the skin slapping. You were too desperate for each other, trying to reach your climaxes but not wanting this moment to end. 
Bucky tried to touch you as much as possible; he wanted to make you feel good, give you satisfaction, and fulfill his own needs in your presence. He moved his hand from your ass to your stomach and boobs, then to your face, bringing you closer for another hot and passionate kiss. He was all over you, hungry to get more and to remember every centimeter of your perfect body. 
You two moved in perfect rhythm, meeting each other's movements.
“Please, Bucky– it’s so good, fu-uck, I’m gonna cum.” You cried out loud, feeling that your body was starting to go numb from your approaching orgasm. 
“Such a good pussy, takin’ me so well. ‘M close too, baby; ride my cock, c’mon. Get what you need.” He slapped your ass, encouraging you to move faster. “So pretty wrapped around me. Can I cum inside you, hm? You’ll let me feel you up?” 
Your head quickly nodded while you didn’t break eye contact with the man in front of you. Bucky bit his lip, trying to control himself and get you to the finish first, but you looked so fucking good on top of him, with your boobs jumping up and down, that he knew he couldn’t hold himself any longer. So he brought his hand to the lower part of your stomach, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit. 
That was the breaking point for you. You completely lost control over your body, barely being able to stay still when the waves of pleasure were breaking through you.
“Good girl. You can almost feel me in your stomach, yeah?” Bucky’s palm was feeling every thrust of his dick with the palm of his hand, and it felt fucking insane. “Fu-u-uck, you’re squeezing the shit out of me, ‘m not gonna last longer.” He moaned, losing his rhythm too, while you fell down on his chest, too overwhelmed and overstimulated. 
You felt the last movement of his hips until he froze, moaning into your ear, and emptied himself deeply inside of your spasming pussy. You unconsciously continued to squeeze around his cock, getting every single drop, as if your body was greedy to get more of his load.
“I don’t feel m’ body…” You mumbled, already feeling sleepy, and wrapped your hands around Bucky’s body. 
“Sleep, baby.” The soft material fell on your back, covering your naked bodies. You felt a light kiss on top of your head, and Bucky’s arm hugged your back, holding you closer to him. 
You couldn’t be sure, but right before you drifted to sleep, you heard something that weirdly sounded like “I love you.” 
pt.2
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sxriusblxck · 1 year
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Hellooooooo can I request marauders x reader (platonic or poly whatever you want :)) with reader who like never drinks water so like everywhere they go the boys are making sure there hydrated lmao this sounds weird I’m sorry lol anyway hope you having a good day/night <33
i never drink water so this is perfect LOL!
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poly!marauders x gn!reader
warnings: exam season, stress, dehydration, the marauders being absolute sweethearts
word count: 529
/////
Your head is hurting as you approach their door, shoulder heavy with the bookbag that hangs off of it.
You'd been studying all day, barely giving yourself a moment to breathe before diving into the next subject, eager to pass the next exams thrown your way.
By the time you had reached the boy's dorm, you were ready to lay down and sleep for the next fourteen hours.
But they had other plans.
"Dove, you look exhausted." Remus breaks the silence, sat on Sirius's bed with a worried, yet stern look on his chiseled face.
You pout, slinging the strap of your bookbag over the arm of James's desk chair.
"I am not. I was jus' studying." You shake your head, trotting over to plop yourself in Remus's lap.
He grins, despite the worry coursing through his veins. He'd never deny you a cuddle, even if you had done the worst of the worst, that was just off the table. Cuddles were a must in his book.
"Did you drink some water?" He asks, and you know you've been caught.
You bite down on your lip, hesitating before slowing shaking your head side to side.
He sighs, giving you a knowing look before tossing you to the side, your body landing beside Sirius's resting figure as Remus goes to fetch you a glass of water.
"Hi." You giggle, now nose-to-nose with Sirius.
He grins. "Hello, my love." His arm stretches around your waist, pulling you closer so your front is flush against his. "You know you have to drink at least eight glasses of water a day, right?"
"Yes." You sigh, nuzzing your nose into his cheek like a kitten nudging for attention. "It's just so hard to remember."
"We should get ya' one of those water bottles with time marks on 'em so you don't forget." James perks up from behind Sirius, head popping up so he can look at you. "How does that sound?"
"I wouldn't mind it." You shrug.
/////
It's even worse with the water bottle, and you kind of regret agreeing to it.
By nine am when you're supposed to have drank two cups of water, Remus is hounding you to watch as you drink the last of what you had forgotten. But he rests his hand on your thigh during, so it's not much of a punishment.
After DADA, at noon, when you hadn't finished the four cups you were assigned by said water bottle, James is cornering you at your locker to make sure you've drank it. It's not too bad since he wraps his arm around your shoulder while he watches you drink it.
Sirius is somehow the worst, trapping you in the janitors closet to gulp down the last two cups before you can get to your potions class because "staying hydrated is important," as he put it. But he lets you sit on his lap and massages your tummy while you do it.
Honestly, you can't even be mad about it. Having three loving boyfriends who care so much about your health makes up for the mild annoyance you feel having to chug three cups of water at four o'clock in the afternoon.
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nycbaby21 · 8 months
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Young and Stupid
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prompt: sharing a bed with your best friend's older brother
word count: 4,600
“I’m really sorry,” I hear my best friend’s voice rush over the phone. “Wow no hello, no how are you, no I miss you. You must be really sorry,” I laugh closing my book standing up and stretching. I had been sitting at my desk for the past three hours studying for my last final in an hour. “So I know the plan was for me to drive up and grab you and then head home,” Liana started and her voice trailed off. I groan already knowing I’m gonna hate what leaves her mouth next. 
“So funny story, you know that really cute guy I was telling you about,” she continued. “Yes, I remember the very cute blonde with super blue eyes,” I say grabbing everything I needed and heading out of my dorm. I began walking to my last class and stayed on the phone with her the whole way. “Okay so come to find out he lives like an hour away from my parent's house. So he is gonna give me a ride home,” I stop in my tracks.
“Li, what are you saying,” I ask having a feeling where this is going. “I already talked to my parents and they are super excited to meet him. I can really see this going somewhere,” I can hear the smile in her voice. “Okay,” I say stopping at the stairs of my lecture hall. “You aren’t mad,” she asks, concern in her voice. “No, I’m not mad. I’ll just have to find a ride after I finish this test,” I say. “Don’t worry I already have one for you,” she says. “Liana Barzal what did you do,” I ask with a whine in my voice.
“Love you! Talk later, good luck with your test. You are gonna kick ass,” she rambles and then hangs up on me. I can’t let myself think about it and walk into the room focusing on the test at hand. After an hour, I walk out of the building and head back to my dorm. I tried to call Liana several times, but she never answered me. When I walked into my dorm, I could see why.
“Mat, what are you doing here,” I ask seeing her older brother lying down on my bed reading a book. “Geez about time you got back. I was so bored I started reading your stupid little book,” he says in a teasing tone. I snatched the book from his hands and put it on my desk. “Let’s try this again. “What are you doing here Mathew Barzal,” I ask with an attitude. I loved the whole Barzal family, they have become like a family to me over the years. Our parents were friends and then they had Liana and I at the same time. But Mat was a whole different story.
Ever since I could remember he would tease me. Little things never anything terrible or purposefully malicious. He would pull my hair out of the ponytail, always call me stupid nicknames, and my personal favorite pretend he didn’t know who I was almost all of high school. I had always hoped it was the classic, oh he likes you because he teases you kind of thing. Those dreams were shattered when I was around and his friends asked who I was, and he just replied just some girl my sister is friends with no one important. It was not like I had known him my whole life or anything.
“Oh, you used my full name. I’m so scared,” he laughed sitting up and staring down at me. My bed was raised so I could reach to slap the back of his head so I smacked his calf. He laughed at me and I just kept hitting him. Not hard enough for it to hurt, but it did feel good to let out some of my frustration. I had been so stressed with finals, maintaining my grades, and stupid boy problems.
“What the hell are you doing,” my roommate Maddie asks walking in with her girlfriend right behind her. “Aw Y/n, good for you. I’m glad you moved on from that loser. Also, this one is so much hotter,” Olivia says sitting down on the bed. My entire face burns red and I stop hitting Mat. “No no no. This is Mat,” I rush taking a few steps away from him. He quirks an eyebrow at me. “Oh shit my bad. I thought. You know what never mind what I thought. I’m just gonna sit here and look pretty,” she jokes with me. “You think he’s hot,” Maddie ask looking from Mat to Olivia. “I don’t know for a guy yeah. I mean I would never ever never. But I could see the appeal,” she shrugs explaining to her girlfriend.
“I don’t know. How you treat people is way more important than looks,” Maddie rolls her eyes continuing to pack her bag. The whole time I refused to make eye contact with him. “You know who I am,” he asks hopping down off the bed and leaning back against it. “You talk about me Y/n,” his voice comes off condescending. I huff and let out a groan and Olivia throws a pillow at me. I whack him in the face with it. He grabs my wrist and makes me freeze. Noticing the tension Maddie saves the day.
 “I know a lot about you Barzal. Your sister is amazing by the way,” Maddie smirks, knowing she is riling him up. “You think Y/n/n talks about you. Please, you have no idea how many people try to get info on you from her. She has never once indulged them,” Olivia says thinking she is being helpful. I cut her a look and she stops talking. He looks down at me and his face softens. “What is she talking about,” he asked me. “Well, we should get on the road. Long drive down to Tennessee. Love you Y/n,” Olivia says grabbing Maddie’s stuff and heading for the door.
Maddie comes and wraps me up in a hug. “Call me okay. I love you and have a great break,” she smiles. “I love you and you guys too. Also Mads you got this. Any parent should be thrilled for their daughter to bring you home,” I give her arm a comforting squeeze. She nods and walks towards the door. “Barzal, if I hear one word about you hurting my girl you better be ready,” she threatens and closes the door. The air was thick in tension as soon as it was just the two of us.
Mat turns and opens his mouth to say something but I cut him off before he can. “Okay well, she should probably get on the road too,” I say grabbing my duffle bag and throwing it over my shoulder, and grabbing the suitcase with my free arm. I feel myself being pulled back and the weight on my left arm is now gone. Mat now had my pink duffle bag over his shoulder. He sent me a small smile and headed towards the door. This is gonna be a long trip.
I slowly walked behind him following him to his car in the parking lot. I let out a laugh and tried to cover it with a cough. His head snapped back to me and he smiled. “Yeah yeah, laugh it up,” he says putting my stuff in the back with his. “No I’m not laughing at you or the car I swear,” I laugh and he cuts me a look. “It’s just you’ve been in the NHL how long? They have to be paying you enough for a luxury car,” I say getting in the passenger door as he shuts it behind me. “Not that I need to explain myself to you, but there is no point in all of that. I mean this is a great little car, trustworthy, and dependable,” he says leaning over and looking backward to reverse the car. I hated to admit it to myself but he looked way too good doing that.
“No, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I just figured you would be all flashy and get a car to impress some girl,” I shrug looking outside my window and not at him. “Maybe the Mat you used to know would have done that. But I’m not that guy anymore,” he says glancing over at me. His stare makes me feel like the same little girl who had a monster crush on her best friend’s older brother. “Maybe,” I ask in a teasing tone getting a laugh out of him, like a real genuine smile. Happy with how the conversation was going and in fear of messing it up, I reached over and flipped through the stations trying to find a station.
“Here, just play something on here. The static is driving me crazy,” Mat says handing his phone over to me. I held it like it was a bomb, scared if I moved it would go off. “What,” he laughs eyes straight ahead. “I don’t know. It’s just no guy has ever just openly handed me his phone to go through,” I say opening his phone, he didn’t even have a password on it. His background makes me stop. It was a picture of Liana, him, my little sister, and me from one summer when we were kids on my dad’s boat. “Well you have been around the wrong guys,” he says snapping me out of my trance.
I didn’t even know that picture existed, let alone why Mat had it as his home screen. “Yeah well, you could say that again,” I laugh dryly and scroll through his playlist trying to find one. “Oh my gosh. You do not still have this,” I say shocked pulling up a playlist I made him one summer when he said I had terrible music taste and wanted to prove him wrong. I click play and the catchy beat of some random boyband I was obsessed with fills the car. He smiles and starts singing along with the song. “What? Don’t go feeling all special or whatever, it just has some good songs on it,” he says trying not to smile.
The next two hours are filled with us screaming the lyrics of the playlist and dancing around in the car. I had actually never had this much fun with Mat ever. He always treated me like his sister’s annoying friend. Right now it felt like he was treating me like a friend. The snow started to pick up more and more. We had turned down the music to almost nothing and I was helping him watch the road. “I saw a sign for a motel like half a mile back. I know it isn’t ideal but I can’t risk having you on the road in this weather,” he says slowing down even more and turning into the motel.
“Risk having me on the road? What about you,” I ask as he puts the car in park. “Liana and my parents would have my ass if anything happened to you,” he said looking over at me. I deflated a little bit, cursing myself for actually thinking maybe it was because he cared about me. I just nod my head and open the door grabbing my bags and heading for the door. “Hey wait slow down. What just happened back there,” he asks rushing forward and opening the door for me.
The lobby was filled with the same chill as outside. I shook off some of the snow that had gathered up on my clothes and hair. “I have no idea what you are talking about Barzal,” I say walking further inside towards the front desk. “Y/n you just completely shut down on me,” he says grabbing my forearm and pulling me back. I roll my eyes and look up at him. “I have no idea what you are talking about Mat. Look I’m tired and cold I just want to take a hot shower and sleep okay?” 
I hear someone clear their throat and we both look towards the guy behind the desk. He has an annoyed expression on his face. I pull my arm away from Mat and walk towards the desk. “How can I help you tonight sweetheart,” his voice sends chills down my spine. He looked me up and down like he was a wild animal stalking his prey. “Uhm.. a room please,” I stutter out completely creeped out by this guy. My eyes shift over to Mat and then back to the guy. “Okay, so two rooms. That will be,” the guy is cut off by Mat. “One room actually,” Mat wore a smug look on his face. His arm slipped around me, and this time I leaned in and didn’t brush him off.
“Yeah sure okay,” he grumbles out typing away. Mat gave my side a squeeze and his thumb rubbed back and forth under my jacket. I tried to ignore the feelings that came with being this close to him. He was just trying to help like a big brother would. He didn’t see me as anything else. “Right this way,” he said and we followed him down a long hallway and to the last room in the hall. He opens the door and we both can see the room only has one bed in it. I try to control my face, but it must have slipped because the guy smirks down at me. “One bed alright with the happy couple,” he said emphasizing the word couple. 
“Perfect with us. Right baby,” Mat leans down and looks at me. I nod my head, not trusting my voice in that moment. Fear overwhelmed my system, I just couldn’t tell if it was from the looks the clerk was giving me or the fact I had to share a bed with Mat tonight. “Well, I’ll leave you both to it. Come find me if you need anything okay,” he says directly at me slipping a wink in before walking away. Mat all picked me up and carried me into the room away from that guy. 
He slams the door closed and I jump at the sudden loud noise. He turns around and looks at me. I have never been able to read Mat well, he always held his emotions close to himself. But in this moment I was grateful I couldn’t. He was seething with anger. He paced around the room rambling about how no man had any right to talk to a woman like that. I sat on the bed and watched him continue to walk around. “Mat, please. You are making me dizzy,” I groan falling back onto the bed with my legs still hanging off. I hear a deep sigh and feel the bed dip down next to me. “You okay,” I ask looking into his eyes.
“That doesn’t matter right now. Are you okay,” he asked voice soft. I nod feeling very vulnerable under his gaze. I open my mouth to ask him more about what the hell just happened but my phone ringing cut me off. “Y/n, finally you answer me. I got an alert that you and Mat both stopped and neither one of you picked up. I was scared to death something happened to you both,” Liana rushes out. “Li slow down okay. I am perfectly fine okay. The roads just got really bad and Mat pulled over and we found a motel to stay at. We are gonna get back on the road first thing in the morning,” I explain calmly trying to help ease her worry.
“Hey you know I wouldn’t ever let anything happen to her right,” Mat says to his sister looking straight at me. “Yeah, I know. Sorry, it’s just you guys are two of my favorite people, and if I lost you both,” her voice cracked and we heard a hushed voice comforting her. Mat raised his eyebrows and I smiled. “You can’t get rid of us that easy. We are gonna be annoying you for the foreseeable future,” I laugh telling her and trying to get off the phone before Mat realized who she was talking to. “Okay I love you guys,” she says before hanging up. 
“Who was that,” he asked looking back to me. I laugh and shake my head jumping up. He quickly followed suit and stood after I did. “I am gonna go get that shower,” I say walking backward towards the bathroom. “Y/n tell me who she was talking to,” he says walking closer to me. I keep backing up until my back hits a wall. Mat is right in front of me looking down at me. “A friend,” I say in a hushed tone due to our closeness. “Uh-huh. A friend. Who is this friend,” he asks maintaining our current distance. “Maybe a friend who wants to be more than a friend,” I shrug and laugh at the face he makes. “Oh my god. She is a little rat,” he said backing up some. 
“Why is she a little rat,” I ask finally getting to take a full breath. “She totally used me asking to bring you home as a way to hang out with a boy,” he says looking back to me, and then his eyes get big. “What did you just say,” I ask stepping closer to him. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” he says trying to keep distance between us and trips over my bag falling down. “I’m okay,” he says looking up at me and then laughing. “Are you sure,” I ask laughing back at him. “Positive. Now go get a shower, you kind of stink,” he jokes and I kick his shin lightly.
When I was in the shower my mind drifted back to the car ride here. It was so different than any other time I had spent with him. Maybe he was right, he wasn’t the same Mat I knew growing up. I was more confused now than I was before. I shake off all of the feelings coming back from my teenage years and get out of the shower. I go to change into some clothes and realize I didn’t grab a shirt. “Hey, Mat. Can you pass me a shirt? I forgot to grab one,” I yell hoping he can hear me over the sound of the TV he had going. I hear a muffled sound and then a quick knock on the door. I open it and come face to face with him. 
His eyes drifted down and back up very quickly, he was hoping I hadn’t noticed. It was just the same as him seeing me in a swimsuit in the summer, which he had seen several times. Something different was floating around his mind, but I just couldn’t tell what. He cleared his throat and handed me the shirt. “Thanks,” I say softly and step back into the bathroom slipping the shirt over my head. I noticed how much bigger it was than normal and finally looked at myself in the mirror. He had given me one of his Islanders training shirts. I try not to think too much about it, but the small part of me who still believes in fairytale endings drifts.
I walk out turning the lights off in the bathroom and turning to face him. His shirt was so long it covered the shorts I had on. He looked up at me and his jaw tightened slightly. The air was weird between us again like it was earlier. “What are you watching,” I ask looking over at him when he doesn’t answer me. I call his name again and he looks over at me. “Oh uhm I don’t know some random comedy I found,” he says sitting up straighter in the bed. I nod my head at him and walk around the side of the bed opposite him. I pull back the blankets and carefully slip into the bed being very cautious of our personal space.
“Are you cold,” he asks looking over only being able to see me when the TV flashed a bright color. “No, I’m good I promise,” I say back lying to him. “Y/n/n, I can feel you shivering over there,” he says looking over at me. I feel his hand touch mine under the covers and he winces. “Your hands are freezing,” he says. He scoots closer and pulls me towards him. “Mat, I’m fine really,” I try and push him off. He ignores me and pulls me into his chest. I immediately feel warmer, either from his body heat or my face flushing. 
We both stay still as a board, both afraid of moving too much and scaring the other. I could feel his breath and hear his heartbeat. That was the only thing comforting me because he was as fast as mine. “Hey can I ask you a question,” he asks running his hand up and down my arm. “Yeah, you can ask me anything,” I say looking up at him. “Earlier when your roommate and her girlfriend were talking they said you never talk about me even when people ask. Does that happen a lot? People asking you about me,” he asks his hand stopping and resting on my upper arm. “Yeah, I guess it does. I mean people know me from Li’s Instagram and figure I am close with you or whatever. So girls try to be friends with me to get closer to you. Or guys only ask me out thinking I will introduce them to you,” I say scared of how he will act.
“I am really sorry that happened to you Y/n,” he says looking down at me. I look up at him and smile. “It’s okay Mat. Not anything I’m not used to,” I replied. “Has this always happened,” his question made me sigh. I just nod against his chest. “How long,” his voice breaks. “I don’t know, freshman year. It wasn’t because you were mister hot-shot hockey back then. It was because you were this hot older guy every girl our age was crazy about. So that’s why Li and I have always been really selective of our friends,” I answer back. We stay quiet for a minute and then I feel his chest vibrate some. “What,” I ask looking up at him and seeing a smile on his face. “Every girl your age thought I was hot, eh,” he asks in a teasing tone, but not the same one from childhood.
“Wow out of all of that, you wanna know if I thought you were hot,” I roll my eyes and push away from him. His grip tightens on me and I laugh with him. “Why does it matter what I thought of you way back then,” I ask. “I don’t know,” he shrugs. “Can I ask you a question now,” I counter and he nods. “What did I do to you growing up,” his eyebrows furrow at my question. “I mean it was like you had it out for me. Anything I did, you had a teasing comeback for it. And then in high school you just ignored me. So I’m asking you if I did something,” I ask waiting for a response. 
“You didn’t do anything, I swear. Well not intentionally anyway. You couldn’t help me having feelings for you. I don’t know as kids I thought of you just like Li and your sister. And then one day you weren’t the same anymore. I noticed how my feelings were changing with you. And I was stupid and young and had no clue what I was doing so I was just mean.” I stayed quiet just listening to him. “Then high school came around and some of the jerks I called friends started asking questions about you. Like who you were and some other stuff I’m not gonna repeat. So I just thought if you weren’t an active part of my life maybe guys like that would leave you alone. You were way too good for them,” he finished and stared ahead. “Mat, will you please look at me,” I ask, his eyes drifting across my face and landing on my eyes. He nods and I look at him,” Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“Like I said, I was a young stupid kid. I was scared of you. You were my sister’s best friend, our parents are super close, and I just knew that I would screw something up. And it wouldn’t just be us it would be us I messed up, but everyone else would suffer,” he said. “Well are you still,” I ask, taking a leap of faith. “Still what,” his voice is filled with confusion. “Are you still young and stupid,” I whisper back to him. “Up until yesterday. Yeah, I was,” he replied. “What changed today,” I question leaning in closer to him. “I finally quit trying too hard around you. I was just Mat with you today. And it felt really nice,” he smiled leaning down our lips almost touching. “Tell me to stop and I will. We can pretend this never happened and go back to whatever we were. Even though that might actually kill me, I’ll do it if that’s what you want,” he says his breath fanning my face.
I close the distance between us by grabbing his cheeks with my hands pulling him closer. It didn’t even take him a second to fall into rhythm with me. All those years of secretly pining and hidden feelings were finally being released. I kissed him until I physically couldn’t anymore needing to breathe. “Holy shit,” I say resting our foreheads together.” If I had known that was what I was missing I would have said something sooner,” he laughed making me smile. “Well, we have about ten years to catch up on,” I smile at him reconnecting our lips.
The next morning I woke up all tangled up in Mat’s embrace. I nuzzled into his chest harder, waking him in the process. “Please tell me last night wasn’t some dream,” he says not opening his eyes yet. “No, you dork. It wasn’t a dream,” I laugh kissing the space between his shoulder and neck. “I don’t really wanna leave the motel, is that bad,” he asks running his hand in my hair. “No, it isn’t that bad,” I smile. “Good because I’m pretty sure Li may just kick my ass,” he laughs. “Am I worth it,” I ask looking up at him. “Worth every second of ass-kicking,” he says kissing my nose. I kiss his lips again and my phone ringing interrupted us. “Oh god, it’s her, isn’t it? She is already cockblocking me and she doesn’t even know yet,” he groans throwing his head back.
“Are you both still alive,” she jokes. “Yes we are both still alive,” Mat groans into the phone before moving us to where he could rest his face on my neck. My hands go to his hair and start running my fingers through it. “Well, I’m sorry for asking. Geez Y/n maybe you should have given him some and he wouldn’t be acting like an ass this morning,” she laughs and stops when she realizes neither one of us answers. “Oh my god. You did not,” she screams.
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becsabillion4 · 3 months
Text
take it out on me (carmen berzatto x reader)
so this is my first time posting a fic of mine on tumblr since i was 14 and i'm slightly terrified by the formatting but i posted this on ao3 yesterday and someone told me to post here too (<3) so i hope you all enjoy it as much as i enjoy the thought of getting pounded by carmy in the walk-in
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pairing : carmen berzatto x f!reader
summary : Carmy is having a terrible service, and you're sure some time in the walk-in will help him cool off (although it gets hotter in there than you might think).
word count : 4,410
tags: SMUT, rough sex, angry sex, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, choking, semi-public sex, ending with soft carmy which makes it all okay, 18+ only
note: this is explicit 18+ only and also this is NOT an advert for safe sex, it is merely a fantasy i have been playing with since my own days as a waitress and carmy has helped me to realise it. also i'm obsessed and i know y'all degenerates won't send help so instead i ask that you send me asks so i can write more about this wonderful man
Disorienting. Overwhelming. Stressful, painful, unrelenting. Burning your hand hard enough for it to stick to the pan, hard enough that you know on the way to the sink it’s too late, that you’ll bear the scar of that mistake for the rest of your life. Knives slicing always so close to your skin, living on the point of pain, focus trained so hard on the blade you can’t even blink. Shouting, screaming, the place could be on fire, and you wouldn’t look up from the art you’re creating. Flames licking at your apron. Beautiful.
Kitchens are the prison and the heart of a chef, and the one at The Bear is currently the pride and the bane of your life. Plating up your one billionth focaccia of the evening as Marcus rushes by holding a tray of cannolis aloft, you try to tune out Sydney shouting instructions to the new servers, trying to drill something, anything, into their panicked, under-developed skulls. 
But none of this worries you. What worries you is the ominous, creeping silence from the station to your right, where you know Carmy is cooking up not only the best food you’ve ever tasted, but an internal storm that is going to be unleashed any, second, now-
“Chefs! Where the fuck is my garnish? Tina, are you dead? ‘Cos you need to wake the fuck back up.”
Tina is already by Carmy’s side with the garnish, but the damage is done. She doesn’t bristle at his words, but shoots you a worried look as she slides by, murmuring, “Sorry, Chefs. Behind.”
Since you started working at The Bear six months back, you’ve witnessed a rare few Carmy outbursts, and you know everyone feels the same way when they happen. It’s like the moment you miss a step on familiar stairs, stomach lurching and fear sweeping through your body. Carmy is this kitchen, and his boiling point is the moment things tend to spin out of control. 
And yet, Tina’s reaction is everyone’s; disappointment in herself, instant forgiveness because she knows Carmy is doing everything he can for this team. Last week, after you and Sydney spent the evening getting wasted on her couch, she’d confessed to you how hard Carmy took his notorious opening night failure, and how he’s been struggling to make up for it since then. And it’s been working; his kindness, patience, and passion for elevating those around him have always outshone the occasional harsh word during service.
But this service is just bad. It’s been bad since 5AM, when you got here to take in the delivery and found out that the grapes needed for the welcome broth had somehow been left off of the order. It’s been bad since Marcus ruined three batches of cannolis in a row, and when Sydney tried to touch his shoulder and ask him what was going on, he stormed out. Since Sydney snapped at Richie for singing Taylor Swift badly during family. The hundred little underlying frissons of tension that normally dissipate as soon as service rolls around have congealed today, like oil in balsamic vinegar, rubbing together but refusing to meld into the team you know everyone can be.
And you know Carmy can feel it. His anger is a physical thing beside you, like standing next to a hot pan with too much oil in it and just waiting for it to start spitting at you. Knowing you have to keep stirring it anyway.
“Four top, two steak, one bucatini, one fish,” Sydney rattles off, and everyone responds “Yes, Chef!” a little too loud.
“Can I get some hands for this focaccia,” you shout through the din, pushing the two boards forward, but nobody responds. “Hands, please, get these off my station before I eat ‘em!” you call, trying to bring some levity to the atmosphere before-
“Hands, fuckin’ hands, Chefs, FUCK!” Carmy explodes, appearing by your side so suddenly you almost jump. His hands hover over the foccacia boards like he wants to adjust something on them, fix something, but you know as well as he does that they’re perfect already.
And of course, this just makes things worse.
Carmy properly looks up for the first time, straightening out of the “chef about to have an aneurysm over plating this fish” posture and into his “everyone here is about to get fucked” pose. “These are good to go, why are we not? Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. Go fuck yourselves-” one of the new waitresses approaches with trembling hands and Carmy pushes the boards at her, disgusted, almost taking them over the edge of the pass, “-all of you, what is the point of any of us being here if nothing is leaving the fucking kitchen!”
“Carm, it’s okay, they’re going out,” you can’t help cutting in, but you should know better than to try to soothe a wild animal. Carmy doesn’t say anything, turns back to plating up his fish, but his beautiful artist’s hands, which you often find yourself trying to draw in the margins of inventory checks, are shaking now. You’ve never seen him this bad. The whole kitchen waits on a knife edge. You glance up, watching the waitress leave with your focaccia, and have a brief but fervent desire to be her as the doors swing her out of this hellhole.
The fish is beautiful as Carmy puts the finishing touches to it. A server steps up to take it as other dishes for the same table coalesce at the front of stations, all elegant, all perfect, all more than worthy of the restaurant’s Michelin star.
Carmy is completely still. Staring. And you know it’s too late.
Plunging his fist down, he crushes the fish into sea-scented pulp. The shells of oysters, hand-selected, crack into broken-mirror shards; the sauce is peppered with shoddy scraps of lobster tail.
It’s still not enough for Carmy, as he picks up the plate and sends it spinning into the back wall, narrowly missing Sweeps’ head. “ Shit, ” Carmy mutters, turning back to his station and searching for more things to destroy. You watch him contemplate the knives, and you can’t stay out of it any longer.
“Carmy. Chef. Carmy,” you say as you reach out to grab his muscled arm, pulling him round to face you. You can feel the tension corded deep under his skin, see the sheen of sweat coating his tattoos. Normally, any skin contact with him sends your brain into overdrive, but you can’t afford to be anything but calm right now.
His eyes are wild, but you watch him steadily, and he watches you straight back. You’re not sure why, but the moment reminds you of how you felt on those rare occasions he invited you and Syd over to brainstorm new recipes in his cramped kitchen. Especially that time Sydney couldn’t make it, and you were midway through describing your idea for a yuzu-infused scallops course to him - “with maybe, like, a garnish of broccoli just absolutely smothered in hollandaise” - when he reached forward, tucked a scrap of hair behind your ear, and the very idea of food whisked straight out of your head - but you still felt hungry. And whilst he’d tried out your broccoli idea over and over again that night, you found yourself blushing every time he passed you a spoon to taste it. 
You never could get that dish right. Every time you thought about it, you couldn’t separate the flavours from the curious look in his eyes, the way he drank in your ideas, absorbed them before he responded, how his eyes tracked every thought that crossed your face.
Now here you are again, staring at that measured, thoughtful man turned savage, and you wonder if you have the guts to do what you’ve been thinking about doing for a while.
“I’m not afraid of you,” you murmur beneath the clatter of plates behind you, just for him. You don’t look away even when you hear something shatter. You move your hand from his arm, up over his shoulder, push your palm into the curve of his neck and hold it there. 
Then you wait, feel his shoulders jumping up and down with his rapid breathing. Wait until he leans into it a little, chasing your solidity, and it’s all the response you need.
“Come with me.” It’s not a question, but he nods anyway.
“Sydney, you got this?” You ask, never taking your eyes from Carmy’s face, worried that if you do, you’ll lose whatever grip you have on him right now.
“Yes, Chef,” she replies, and you feel her edge round the side of Carmy to put another fish on rapid fire. He catches her eye as she passes, and brings his hand up to his chest, rubbing it once in what has become the team’s official way to apologise during service. She responds in kind, and he lets you drag him off the station, past the others shooting him worried looks, straight into the walk-in.
You shut the door carefully, recalling the stories of Carmy’s previous imprisonment. It’s still securely closed, giving you both some calm and privacy to cool off.
Except cooling off is not really what you have in mind.
You turn to see Carmy slumped in the corner, curled in on himself and running his hands through his already-chaotic hair. He stands again suddenly, bracing his hands on the wall behind him as if to remind himself they exist.
“Carmy.”
“Yeah, shit. Sorry, I just need a second. It’s just, I didn’t sleep at all last night. I was thinking about doing something with ceviche, but I couldn’t figure out what fish would work best, and then that sorta spiralled into a panic attack which kept me up whisking eggs for something until three, and then-” You watch his eyes darting over the shelves around him as he talks, and you realise he’s taking stock of what’s there. Even during a full-blown meltdown, he cannot stop working, stop thinking. He starts pacing.
“Carmy,” you say again as you try to catch his eye. He’s staring at some spare T-bones like they’ll explain to him whatever dish he was whisking eggs for last night. Fuck it. You grab his chin, tilt it until he has to look at you.
“D’you know the best way to calm down?”
“Lock yourself in the walk-in for three hours?” He’s trying to relieve some tension, but you have other ideas on how to handle that.
“Sex, Carmy.”
There. You’re terrified that you finally acknowledged it, finally confessed to what you’ve been thinking about for months, but thank God it’s out in the open. You’ve been blushing at his compliments on your food for far too long, ignoring how good he looks in a white tee for even longer. And today has been such a shitshow it can’t possibly get any worse by admitting to this too.
You wait for Carmy to shut it down, laugh it off, maybe even fire you, but he just looks shellshocked. Then again, that is his default look.
“I, um…” He rubs a hand over his forehead, glances up at you almost shyly. “I mean, um. What?”
“Listen, you’re fucking up service. You’re distracted, tired, stressed beyond belief. I want to help you, and I won’t pretend it’s just out of the goodness of my own heart. I’ve been interested in you for a while, Carmy. You can take that or leave it or kick me out of this walk-in if you want, but I’m here. I want to help you work through things, through all this anger. And…I want you to know you can take it out on me. And maybe even feel better at the same time.”
Carmy is flushed, and you’re all out of words. You kind of wish he was still looking at the T-bones.
“We, uh, we can’t.” Carmy leans back on a freezer for support, crossing his arms in a pose you normally associate with him working something out in his head, deciding what a dish is missing or what it needs to take it up a notch. “I mean, not now. Not here, at least. And I don’t know, we work together. I’m your boss. It’s not a good idea.” He reaches a hand round to his back, starts massaging the strain away there. It’s an especially effective position as he doesn’t have to look at you as he does it, as he says, “Sorry.”
You shrug a little, smile. Try to pretend it doesn’t hurt. Keep it professional, or as professional as you can get in a kitchen. “Hey, it was worth a shot. Get some sleep, Chef.”
You turn to go, hoping that stirring and slicing and plating up will shake off the embarrassment currently burning through to your bones.
But you don’t live to regret the offer as Carmy grabs your arm, spins you and shoves you hard enough into the walk-in door that it rattles on its hinges.
“Hey, everything okay in there Chefs?” you hear Marcus call, and it’s a reality check you absolutely don’t want right now. Carmy doesn’t even seem to have heard him, trailing kisses down your neck, collarbone, shoulder as your body arches into the feeling. You’ve had one too many fantasies about this walk-in since you started, but the actual feeling doesn’t begin to touch the dream.
“Yeah, all good Chef!” You manage to reply, but you barely get the ‘Chef’ out before Carmy’s lips slide over yours, pushing, demanding entry as his body keeps you pressed up against the door. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place, is all you have time to think between kisses.
There is no room or time for playing around. Carmy needs this, and you intend to provide, but you’re damn sure getting everything you can out of it just in case it never happens again. One of your hands curls deep into his hair, pulling his head back as your teeth click together in the ferocity of the kiss. You swear you can taste blood, but neither one of you pulls back, the saltiness only urging you on. Your other hand is busy loosening his belt, and you tug it hard to pull the silver prong free of the leather, hard enough that his hips jerk forward into yours and you moan, long and low.
Gravity suddenly spins on its axis as Carmy lifts you, turns and drops you down onto the freezer Fak installed last week. And for once in your life, thank you, Fak. The movement seems to shake Carmy out of it for a second, and he pulls back, hesitates. A hand curves around your cheek, and you can feel an apology coming, see the reticence forming in his eyes. And honestly, fuck that.
You hook fingers through his belt loops, dragging him closer and then using them to tug his trousers down. You’re not gentle as you reach into his underwear, wrap a hand around his cock, and you can tell that’s what he needs as he hisses, his head drifting back.
Removing his hand from your cheek, you guide it slowly down to your neck. His head snaps up, and there’s a darkness, a need, that wasn’t there before as you move your hand slowly, torturously, down his length.
“Hey,” you whisper, reluctant to interrupt the low grunts spilling from him with each of your movements. “I’m not going to break.”
You squeeze his fingers around your throat a little tighter, and it’s this that has him surging forward, messy mouths pressing together again and everything condensing into a rippling, burning, rightness as the fingers of his other hand shove themselves between your legs.
He lingers there for a moment, breaths short and sharp in your ear as he breaks free from your kiss and whispers, “If we had more time, I would clean up the mess you’re making all over my freezer, Chef.”
“My apologies, Chef,” you pant, the sweetness of the apology marred slightly by your fingers tugging hard through his curls. Then you’re pushing up his white shirt at the back, reveling in the heat of him, the muscles straining under your touch. “What’s my punishment?”
Carmy hesitates, then withdraws his fingers from you slowly, and it feels like the calm before the storm. One hand is still pressed loosely around your neck as he brings the other up to your face, runs the edge of his still-wet fingers over your lips. Asking or demanding, you don’t know, but you’re happy to comply. His pupils are blown so wide you can barely see the blue behind them, and when you slide your mouth over his fingers, taste yourself on him, he closes them in momentary bliss. And it’s so beautiful to see that you can’t resist pulling him in to share.
A Michelin-star chef with one of the most sophisticated palates on the planet. A renowned food critic once wrote of him, “In my next life, I’d like to be just one of the taste buds in Carmen Berzatto’s mouth.” And here he is, savouring you, tongue searching out every corner of your mouth as if he wants to figure out each and every component of your taste. Add the recipe of you to his menu, and make it every night.
You’re both done waiting, and the clock is ticking. You can faintly hear Sydney calling orders through the wall, although she sounds steadier now. You don’t know whether anyone out there knows what you’re doing, but a rampaging elephant couldn’t stop Sydney when she’s on a roll.
Carmy pulls you closer to the freezer’s edge, jeans and underwear falling to his ankles and suddenly he is right there, and-
“Oh, fuck,” is all you can say as he pushes forward in one swift, animal movement. And oh, pain flickers down your spine as he slides almost free of you and thrusts back, relentless, and this is exactly what you signed up for.
“ Fuck ,” he echoes, hand sliding down your neck to settle over your racing heart. “Fuck, you…I don’t know how you do this to me,” he pants, and you try to keep your moaning down so you can hear as words spill from him, “When you come in with your hair down before a shift, when you - ah - when you borrow my knife and I see you using it all service, when you let me light your fuckin’ cigarette for you. Shit. You drive me crazy on purpose, and you wanna know what the worst part is?”
You can’t breathe, let alone answer him.
“The worst part is I eat that shit up every time, ” he snarls, punctuating every word with a short, sharp thrust.
This is the animal you saw tonight, spitting curses, destroying his own food, all sharp edges and uncompromising will. Grunting as he bottoms out inside you, fingers clenched around your upper thigh hard enough to bruise, littering bites over your neck as if your colleagues aren’t an unlocked door away.
But the animal isn’t the end of Carmen Berzatto. There is more to him than the bear, and you intend to remind him of that before you’re through.
“Look around you,” you pant as he thrusts again, harder, sweeter, and you have to get this out before you tip over the edge. So you risk bringing the hand you were using to support yourself forward to turn his chin towards the walk-in’s walls, to beyond them, to the restaurant hard at work and the satisfied diners metres away who have no idea what’s going on in here, and fuck if that doesn’t make it all the more delicious. “Look what you made. Look who you are.” You watch his flushed face, hope he understands the praise, but you can’t hold on anymore to see your words land.
“You’re fuckin’ unbelievable, Carmy,” is all you manage to choke out as every muscle in your body lights up, tenses and releases in a flood so strong you wonder if you’ll ever surface, and if you even want to.
Carmy fucks forward into you twice more, and his head drops onto your shoulder as he groans, shudders, relaxes fully for what may be the first time in his life.
You stroke a hand over his head, pull him closer. You’re not quite sure when this stopped being a no-holds-barred quickie and became a quiet, intense embrace, but it feels right. All the desperation, the keyed-up energy, is gone from him. And if he never wants anything more than that, even though the idea is more than a little disappointing, you can take consolation from the fact that you at least managed to stop a raging Carmy in his tracks.
Although it is a little quiet.
“Carmy?” You ask, hesitant to break the silence. Thankfully, it still sounds like it’s all bustle outside. You wonder how long you’ve been in here, and try not to think about how you’re going to emerge with any shred of dignity intact.
Carmy pulls back, and you can’t define the look on his face, but it worries you. His eyes shine slightly, and his gaze skips across your face, down your body, not holding your stare.
“Are you okay?” You ask, praying this isn’t about to get really awkward really quick. The man’s still inside you, for Christ’s sake.
“Yeah. I, um, I should be asking you that.” Carmy’s hands skim down your sides, fingers pressing in randomly as if to check for bruises. He tilts his head to look under your chin, as if to check he hasn’t caused any permanent damage to your neck. “Jesus. Are you alright? I’m sorry, that was rough.”
“I’m totally fine.” You don’t know what to do to reassure him, so opt for two big thumbs up. “See? Voice working and everything.”
Carmy chuckles unevenly, takes a careful step back, and you try not to consider how empty you feel and how cold and slippery the freezer now is underneath you. You hop off, catching yourself on the side when you realise just how shaky your legs are. When you glance up at Carmy, he’s just staring at you, which is, frankly, unnerving.
“Do I look that bad?” you ask, pulling your hair out of what’s left of a ponytail to start again.
“No. No, I’m just…I’m just taking you in.” The raw honesty in his eyes pins you in place for a moment. But of course, Richie shouts “ Cousin!” before you can read into it too much.
There is a moment of panicked dressing and clean-up, a nod to each other to confirm you both look relatively sane and not totally fucked (even though you doubt it), and then a collective deep breath as you push open the door of the walk-in.
You don’t catch anyone’s eye for a second as you head to your station, Carmy’s presence like an open flame behind you.
“Corner. Corner. Behind, sorry Chefs,” you call as you slide back into place. Two quick glances calm you; one at the clock - seventeen minutes - and one at Sydney, who doesn’t look like she’s about to throw up and only has three tickets in front of her. You spare a final one for Fak in his position by the door, who you are positive would be grinning gleefully if he, or anyone else in the kitchen, knew what just went down in the walk-in.
“What do you need, Syd?” you ask, picking up the familiar back-and-forth of the kitchen again with some relief.
Carmy is quiet, focused, for the last half hour of service, but you can’t keep your mind clear. As soon as last orders are sent out, you slink to the back for a cigarette, hoping the smoke will at least wipe out your brain fog. It does the exact opposite. When you let me light your fuckin’ cigarette for you. You exhale, waving the smoke away as the words churn through your brain. I eat that shit up every time.
“Hey,” you hear, and you’re almost thankful to speak to the real him just to distract yourself from thinking about earlier.
“Hey.” You offer him a smoke, and he takes it, sinking onto the step next to you. The brush of his leg against yours is a lot more comforting than you expect it to be, relaxing a secretly worried part of you.
He takes a long drag, the kind of drag you only take when it’s been a shitshow of a day. “I just want to say I’m-”
“Sorry? It’s okay. It doesn’t have to happen again,” you finish for him. It hurts less that way.
“What? No.” He looks at you until you reluctantly meet his gaze. “Not for that. I’m not sorry about that.” He lets that hang there for a second, holds your eye. “But I’m sorry for losing my shit earlier. Nobody deserves to be around that, and…I want you to know I’m working on it. I wanna be…I wanna be good at this.” It’s a stilted apology as he thinks through every line, and it feels all the more sincere for it.
“That’s okay. I know. We all know.” You reach a hand out to touch his arm, and after a second, he lowers his head to rest on his knee, although his face is still turned towards you. You see his eyes flicker from your hand on his arm to your face.
“Although that wasn’t exactly how I expected that to go by the way,” he says after a moment.
You don’t try to pretend you don’t know what he’s referring to. “What, in the walk-in?”
“Oh, no, I’ve thought about it in the walk-in.” You ignore a pulse of feeling at his casual confession, at the idea that he’s thought about you. “I just didn’t imagine it so…heated, I guess.” Carmy raises his head again, traces a finger along your hand where it rests on his arm until you shiver. “Not that I didn’t enjoy it.”
You hesitate for a second before replying. Before extending the branch. “Well, I’m sure there’ll be other times, Chef.”
His eyes flick up to meet yours, and it’s your turn to watch his thoughts flickering there, watch as the fog clears, the idea forms, and he says, “Yeah. Next time.”
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wow guys thank you for reading i pray through the act of writing this that my jeremy allen white obsession will calm the fuck down, but i fear i've made it worse
if you'd like to keep up with me on ao3, you can find me here and please do send me any comments or feedback or prompt ideas, i would love to hear them <33 thank you!!
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chuuyasfanboy · 5 months
Note
hi! may i request hurt to comfort scenarios with dazai, ranpo and chuuya in which it's the first time they make the reader cry during an argument?
yesss hi my first request! I always love reading these kinds of scenarios, they're super angsty but also comforting ykykyk. This is just me but personally I have a really hard time reading hurt no comfort (definitely easy to write it tho hheeeh) so I usually prefer hurt comfort...
Anyways, here we go! I love these three sm<333
Ranpo, Dazai, and Chuuya (Seperate) x GN!Reader when they make you cry in an argument
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Ranpo Edogawa
He should know better
No.
He DOES know better.
But for some reason, he just got so heated that he stopped thinking morally. Some evil part of him deep down inside wanted you to cry
The moment it happens though, everything comes back to him
He said the wrong thing at a HORRIBLY wrong time and he knew he did.
He drops everything, goes straight to petty, simple ways to get you to smile
Free reign to his candies, cuddles galore, constant apologies
His first priority is to stop you from being mad. Once you're calmed down, then you two can talk properly
He knows communication is important, and he tries his best to keep it going even when its embarrassing
Especially when it's about you, like it is now
When your tears have been reduced to nothing but little choked sobs, he pulls you into a separate room
Thankfully, nobody was in the office to see that
If they were, he'd be harassed about it for weeks. And he'd deserve it
But nobody was
Just in case though, he still pulls you into a private room
For your sake, he insists to himself, because he doesn't want you to be seen like this, he knows how bad it feels (And he doesn't want anyone to know it was him who did that to you)
He runs his hands through your hair gently, mumbling out soft, genuine apologies
"I'm so sorry, Sugar.." He whispers into your hair, your face stuffed and hidden away in the crook of his neck. He holds you there, because he doesn't mind it, and he needs you to know that right now. "I didn't mean any of it, I'm so sorry. I knew better than that..."
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Dazai Osamu
"Oh shit-"
His mind goes completely blank, his jaw drops
He didn't mean to bring you to tears, that was never his intention
Honestly, he thought it was a funny joke, he thought it would lighten the argument
But it did not, it most certainly did not.
His arms immediately wrap around your head and pull you close to his chest
He doesn't want you to pull away, not right now
He needs a second to process himself
To think about his words, what about them affected you
"Oh, 'donna.."
Seeing you like this gets to him, because he honest to god feels like a monster now
What kind of beast makes his own lover cry. He never thought it would be him
So he keeps you close, he mumbles into your ear and tries to calm down you
He's not good at it, he never has been, and he never will be
But he's trying so hard he might cry himself
And then you're both in tears together, confused and miserable
Safe to say after that, the argument blows over and is forgotten
Because nothing is more important than each other, and now you're both just trying to figure out why the other is in tears
"I didn't mean it, 'donna, I didn't," it's the fifth time he's said it in the last minute. You know he's sorry, but hell if he's going to stop saying it. He's trying to comfort himself too, promise to himself that he'd never treat you like that again. Even if it was harmless, even if you were just in a bad mood, he never wants to hurt you.
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Chuuya Nakahara
Somehow, this always seemed to happen
After a shitty day at work, and a shitty day for you too.
Usually, you two would just sit in silence, enjoy a movie, and go to bed quietly
But on the few occasions where you two did talk during those frustrating nights, everything cracked
He was so mad, and you were too, you were both so tired
And everything fell into yelling so quickly, quicker than usual
This is why you two didn't talk after shared long days, because of this
But you never cried
You never cried because of him
Not until now
He's almost breathless when he realizes you're choking over your words
He whips around to face you, and for a second it looks like he's going to yell at you more
But instead he's gently wiping your tears away
Because fuck, as perfect as you are regardless, you should never be crying when he's around
When you two got together, he promised you would never cry again
And that was a lie, it seems
You didn't even remember that promise, of course. But he did, because he meant it
This is very serious to him.
He seats you on the couch, tucks a blanket around you, and sits down in front of you on the floor, holding your hands in his
He knows he can't really make up for it. Yelling at you was always a shitty idea, and he should've realized that before every time the two of you devolved into arguments like that
But now the pressure had all come down on your chest, and he was going to keep it from being too much
Your favorite movie or show is on as background noise
Soft kisses on your hands, quiet mumbles in your skin
He's so gentle with you. Maybe it doesn't always seem like that, but he is right now
"My sweet thing, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have yelled like that. I'll make up for it," his voice is always so harmonic like that, when he's frowning up at you and tracing shapes into the palm of your hand. He's ordering takeout, your favorite comfort or safe food. He'll even cook it himself if you ask, anything to make you feel better right now. There's water to your side, the softest blanket he could find tucked snug around your shoulders. And he's going to stay here with you for as long as you need to forgive him.
307 notes · View notes
undercoverpena · 10 months
Text
BAD DAY
francisco morales x f!reader
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warnings: angst. sad girl jo hour. comfort!frankie. bad day!reader. work is mean, and frankie is kind. also wrote entirely on my phone, so if there are errors, pls pretend there aren’t.
you: hey, don’t think I’m gonna come over. had a bad day, just need to shower and sleep. sorry! I miss you xx
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it’s been a bad day. rough, horrid. almost turbulent. one of those one-thing-after-another kind of days.
the ones where you fire off a text to cancel plans and lean on the steering wheel to level your breaths.
you’re sorry, and you miss him.
two thoughts which revolve around the ripped-open pit in your brain as soon as you’d put them in the text. because you are, you do. hating yourself for being a disappointment, for letting him down—for wasting his time—as you turn the key to spark your car to life as you lift your head.
the drive home is just as torturous. hitting every red light—the radio playing all the songs which grate. doing so until you flick it off, sitting in the thick silence of your own making.
frankie would make it all better. five minutes in his company, and you’re sure you’d want to smile—you’re just unsure if your face could make it happen. he deserves better than seeing you like this, downtrodden and broken.
when you pull onto your drive, the rain is still coming down—hammering its watery fists against the roof of your car. then it begins pounding on you, doing so until your key unlocks the front door, darkness and emptiness greeting your sad mood like a friend.
usually, you’d care that you're leaving puddles behind you. tonight you don’t. teeth chewing on your bottom lip, cutting the skin, making that copper taste flood your thought.
you think of calling him. selfishly listening to his voice as you try to ask about his day, hoping he won’t ask you about yours. it’s why you don’t call, placing your phone on the side, staring at it under the glow from the streetlight through the window.
tomorrow, you promise. tomorrow you’ll call him.
your clothes make it more challenging than needing to as you peel them from your skin. a bond having been created between flesh and cotton that it makes anger swim with tears. almost feeling suffocated, eyes brimming as your shirt unsticks from your back and meets the tiles with a slap.
then you’re under the shower, letting hot water warm your bones as tears (thick and full of stress) careen down your face.
your fingers have pruned for a while before you turn the water off. stepping out, doing a poor job of drying yourself—and then pulling on one of his jumpers.
the one hung on the back of your bathroom door. an accidental thing he’s left behind—a welcomed one in your eyes.
it goes well with your sweats, not that it matters. your bare feet shuffling across the floor to your kitchen, stomach groaning, droplets falling down your neck to your collarbone. it tickles, distracting you.
you blame that for why it takes a second before you smell it. before you hear it.
sizzling. accompanied by the distinct sound of a knife on a chopping board. a sound you know from only three places: your childhood home, late-night cooking shows and francisco morales.
you doubt it could be any of the former, but as you round the corner, you’re thankful it’s him.
all hatless, rolled up sleeves and soft brown eyes. his gaze on you, taking in the sight of you (likely wondering if he can have his jumper back) before the kindest, most gentle smile slowly adorns his face.
it warms you—the last few parts of you that the shower did not.
you almost ask how, why. lips curling around them, yet something clogs in your throat. sticks to the side, latches in and makes it hard to form syllables, never mind words.
deep down, you know the answer to both, anyway: it’s just because.
because this is more than dating.
because you matter—more than he can find words for, and your ears are ready to hear.
because he cares for you—knew you needed him, and this is how he cares.
your bottom lip wobbles at the silent answer. the one your brain fills in from how his brows lift ever so slightly and his eyes pool with more adoration.
more tears threaten to break the dam at the sight.
something he must be able to tell, wiping his hands down his worn jeans, leaving the knife and the half-cut salad as he moves towards you, closer and closer.
you don’t feel him make impact at first, but you smell him. all cedar and musk, a scent you associate with home—with him.
and then you feel him, his chest against your front, his neck against your face as his arms wrap around you, as though he can hold you together with sheer will.
maybe he can.
because it feels okay now, he’s here—he’s safe.
and while you hadn’t wanted to cry, you do. but not because you had a bad day. but because you’re not sure what you’ve done to deserve him.
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he’d known something was wrong at lunchtime. when you’d called him, voice all soft—edges of your words brittle.
his gut worry had been confirmed when he read your text.
something niggling, twisting inside of him. so much so, he didn’t think as he grabbed his hat and keys. put his truck into reverse and pulled off the drive.
it crossed his mind he should call. check. not wanting to invade your space, yet—
Frankie has been shut out before, by others. the silence (them wanting something but not asking) cracking down the centre, not sure what to do, even less so when they rounded on him, asking why he didn’t do this and he didn’t do that. I shouldn’t need to ask for you to be there. but it turns out they did.
with you, though, he knew. knew what needed to be done, what he wanted to do. it’s why he pulled up outside your place—spotting your car in the drive. the car lights being cut, the wipers stopping as more rain blurs his sight.
you were home, but the lights weren’t on.
his teeth nipping at his thumb, eyes staring—waiting, wondering. seconds stretch into minutes. the feeling—the one stemmed from a need to make sure you’re okay—tightening in his chest.
fuck it, he thinks, getting out of his truck, moving to yours, spotting how it's unlocked, a dread filling him as he moves up the porch to your door.
earlier, weeks ago, you’d told him where you kept a spare. half-hidden, one of those Amazon-bought fake rocks, and a sea of others so similar around it. he didn’t need to furrow, to search, he knew the one—saved it in his mind when you showed it to him.
for emergencies, you’d said—but your lips had curled into a smirk. like? he’d questioned. and you’d shrugged, faking innocence. you might fancy breakfast with me or something?
it slides into the lock with ease, turning it—greeted by no shout or scream. he steps in, his boots squelching, seeing small puddles that lead a line.
then he hears it—
a shower and your sobs. ones that echo out and hammer against him—pecking at muscle and flesh.
it takes him no time to find your car keys, lock your car before he shuts the door behind himself. his hat removed, boots following before his jacket slides off, and he folds it near your door.
just until you’re out, he tells himself. palms spreading down his thighs, moving to your kitchen, checking you have food, only to find no leftovers, nothing quick.
frankie knows you well enough to know that you don’t cook for yourself much, even when you’ve not had a bad day. his hands moving, rolling up his sleeves as he stares at what you have—an array of choices hurtling through, ones that require spices he can’t be sure you have. so he does the best he can.
frying. chopping. so focused on being quick, tidy—he looks up to find you standing there.
there’s not a version of you he wouldn’t find attentive. you took the breath from his lungs that first night you smiled at him—made his heart double its pace when you talked to him for the entire night.
but you looked worn out, tired, and drained. like you’d had chunks of you taken out all day.
and it hurts, wounds. cuts more than a blade from an attacker or a bullet from an unseen rifle. his hands releasing the knife, hearing it—even if you’ve spoken no words.
why?
because, he wants to say. because you’re having a bad day, and it’s the least I can do.
because I care, and this is how I can show you.
you matter. a lot.
but he doesn’t say any of that, instead hoping the words make it to you from his stare. wiping his palms down his jeans, turning down the cooker as he moves closer, watching, wanting you to have time to push him away if you so wish to.
you don’t.
relief flooding, mixing and concocting with the earlier worry—not settling until he has you close. chin on your head, feeling your breaths along his neck—your hands balled up on his shirt, clinging to him as though he’s all you need to breathe.
frankie gets it.
as he holds you to him, feels you wobble and crumble, he’s pretty sure you’re all he needs to, as well.
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an: I made myself cry, if I’m honest—huge thanks to G. I heart you.
369 notes · View notes
babydollmarauders · 11 months
Text
SPARKS FLY — ETHAN EDWARDS
ethan edwards x fem!hughes!reader
part of the Speak Now Fic List
summary: in which Ethan spends 4th of July at the Hughes lake house and becomes enamored with y/n Hughes
specific lyrics: “you’re the kind of reckless that should send me runnin’ but i kinda know that i won’t get far.” and “you stood there in front of me, just close enough to touch. close enough to hope you couldn’t see what i was thinking of.” and “i see sparks fly whenever you smile.” and “get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down.” and “my mind forgets to remind me, you’re a bad idea.” and “lead me up the staircase, won’t you whisper soft and slow? ‘i’m captivated by you, baby; like a firework show.’”
notes: happy 21st birthday to my bestie, ethan!! i’m so sorry this is so late, i just wrote all of this in like 2 hours and it’s not proofread, so sorry if it sucks.
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“Luke! put me down!” my screeches prove futile when my twin looks down at me with a wicked grin.
“down? okay!”
before i can argue that whatever he’s planning isn’t what i meant, i’m dropped from the dock and into the cold lake water. my body stiffens at the feeling and i gasp before my head is submerged under the water.
i kick my legs and rise to the surface, gulping in throat-fulls of air as i smooth my hair out of my face, glaring up at my brothers and their friends as they laugh.
“you’re gonna pay for that.” i tell Luke, holding my hand up in waiting for him to help me back onto the dock. Luke takes a step back, eyeing me with caution. “really? you won’t even help me up?”
“i’ll help you.” i look over just in time to see Ethan step over to the edge. slipping his hand in mine, he pulls me up, helping me onto the wooden dock. i can’t help but let my eyes wander as i rise to my feet, mere inches from him.
god, he looks good shirtless.
shit, y/n, stop thinking like that.
i avert my eyes, rather focusing on the shivering of my body from the summer breeze hitting my wet skin.
“i’m, uh— i’m gonna go see if mom needs any help.” i tell the guys, awkwardly turning away and jogging up the path to the back deck. my father man’s the grill, flipping hamburgers, while my mother sits at the patio table, cutting up a couple watermelons.
“what on earth happened to you?” my dad chuckles, flipping a burger. i scoff, rolling my eyes. “i thought you were just tanning?”
“i was. and then your son happened.” i tell him, flopping down into a chair across from my mother who finally looks up to see me in my dripping state.
“gotta be more specific than that, honey.” she laughs. “we do have three of them.”
“the one i’m cursed to share 50 percent of my genes with.” i huff.
“ahh, yes, that one.” she muses, chopping into the last piece of watermelon before handing me a triangle. “what did he do this time?”
“he dropped me in the lake.” i say through a mouthful of fruit.
“why?” my dad chimes in, finally shutting the grill and taking a seat next to his wife.
“cause he’s insufferable? i don’t know.” i raise an eyebrow. “does he need a reason?”
“guess not.” he shrugs. i take another bite of watermelon, juice dripping down my chin. “but here they all come.”
my dad raises his chin to motion behind me and i turn my head to glance back, making direct eye contact with Ethan, who walks between Luke and Dylan.
my head snaps forward and i wipe the back of my hand across my chin, cleaning the watermelon juice off my skin. looking over at my mother, a smirk and a raised brow adorn her face.
“you sure that’s a good idea, honey?” despite her cocky expression, her tone is soft and gentle, careful not to hurt my feelings with her words.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” i feign obliviousness, grabbing a beach towel off the stack on the table before the boys can take them all. i wrap the University of Michigan towel around my shoulders, using one end to scrunch the water out of my hair.
“i saw that look, and the way you reacted to it.” my mom reaches across the table, laying a gentle hand on my forearm. “just be careful. make sure you know what you’re doing, because if Luke finds out you like one of his friends…”
“yeah, i know.” i sigh. how could i ever forget Luke’s ‘friends are off limits’ rule?
before either of us can speak again, i feel a set of hands come down on my shoulders, making me jolt in surprise.
Jack’s laugh bellows in my ears, my eyes rolling in annoyance as he finds hilarity in my surprise.
i watch as the guys pile onto the porch deck, grabbing towels from the stack and drying off to prepare for dinner. my parents make themselves scarce, heading inside to collect dinner necessities.
i’m pulled out of my thoughts when Ethan drops into the chair across from me, stealing a piece of watermelon from the bowl.
“maize and blue looks good on you.” he whispers, sending a wink in my direction before he gets pulled back into a conversation with Dylan, who takes the spot beside him.
blood rushes to my cheeks as i glance down at the towel draped over my shoulders, the colors in perfect contrast to my skin.
“y/n, honey?” i look up at my mother who stands at the head of the table.
“hmm? yeah?”
“could you run in and grab the pasta salad out of the fridge?” she asks me, sharing a knowing smile.
“coming right up.” i rise from my seat, dropping the towel back onto the chair so that my brothers, or even trevor, don’t take my spot while i’m gone.
i make my way into the house, pushing open the sliding glass door and rounding the corner into the kitchen. opening the refrigerator, i retrieve the large mixing bowl of pasta as well as a bottle of water, before closing the door.
i jump in surprise, as Ethan now stands leaning against the counter behind the refrigerator door, almost dropping the bowl.
“sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you!” he chuckles, a twinge of red coating his cheeks as he rubs at the back of his neck.
the sunset washes in from the window behind him, radiating him with a golden glow and i can’t help but notice the golden flecks in his green eyes. he looks so ethereal that my knees nearly go weak when i see him at full. water drips from his hair, dropping onto his bare chest and down his abs, and i’m only so strong, my eyes follow the droplets on their path, my lips parted as i take a deep inhale.
“uh- no- you’re uh- you’re good.” i tell him, finally pulling my line of sight back up to his face, where a cocky smirk is now placed.
“Luke sent me in to get the fireworks from the closet? but i don’t know what closet they’re in.” he replies. “there’s like 3 of them down here.”
i laugh, using my water bottle to point towards the closet underneath the stairs.
“they’re in there.” i inform him. “are we doing them after dinner?”
“yeah. i think it was like an unspoken vote? dinner, then fireworks, then bonfire.” he says, heading over to the closet and pulling out the large rubbermaid tub of fireworks. “jesus, do we really need all these?”
“it’s fourth of july, go big or go home, right?” i shrug, finally stepping back toward the glass door. “you haven’t experienced beauty until you’ve seen a Hughes fourth of july firework show.”
i turn toward the open glass door, making my way back out, but not before i hear him mutter to himself-
“pretty sure i experienced beauty the moment i saw you.”
my cheeks burn and i wonder if he meant for me to hear that or if he thought i wouldn’t, but regardless, the words make my heart race.
**
i sit back in my chair, watching on as Jack, Luke, and their friends light the fireworks before sprinting away to watch them light up the sky.
Luke, Dylan, and Mark hype Ethan up as he sets fire to the end of the fuse and jumps over the firework; waiting until just before the firework is about to go off in order to come running back up to the grassy patch where everyone sits. i roll my eyes at his recklessness, wondering just how stupid guys can be.
the reckless abandon in which he does things should have me running for the hills. i’ve never before been so enamored with a guy who does stupid things like these. and yet, just by looking at him, i know that i’m too far in now. the crush i’ve held for him for the past two years has blossomed into something more.
he smiles at my twin and his friends as they shake him and shout, hyping his stupid actions, and it’s like sparks fly when i see the beaming look on his face. and coincidentally, in that moment, purple fireworks light up the sky, shooting in every direction.
“i know that look.” i look over at my eldest brother, furrowing my brows at his words.
“what?” he rolls his eyes at my response, giving me a soft smile.
“don’t ‘what?’ me, y/n. i know that look. it’s the same look you used to give Matthew when he would come pick Brady up from the lake house when you were like, eleven.”
i laugh at his comparison. no longer embarrassed of the past crush i held on the older Tkachuk.
“and how would that look?” i ask him.
“like this.” Quinn attempts a faraway look in his eyes, batting his lashes and holding his folded hands up to his cheek.
“you asshole!” i giggle, pushing at his shoulder. “i don’t look like that! i have never done that!”
“okay, maybe not like that.” he relents, chuckling. “but you have that look of admiration and love. and i know what Luke says but… i say go for it.”
“what?” i’m shocked by his words, not used to being told anything other than ‘be careful’ and ‘you know Luke’s rule’.
“if you really think there’s something there? go for it. Luke will get over it. i promise.” he assures me, a soft smile on his face as he reaches out to hold my hand.
“but, just in case, i’d say maybe don’t tell Luke right away.” he tells me, pressing a peck to the back of my hand before he drops it, rising from his seat. “and here comes lover boy now.”
Quinn wiggles his eyebrows as he walks away, one hand gripping his beer as the other waves over to Jack and company.
i look over just in time to see Ethan, coming to a stop in front of me.
“Luke wants his Team USA hoodie.” he tells me. “he says you have it in your room.”
“oh, yeah, i have that. i’ll get it.” i stand from my seat, walking towards the lake house with Ethan following behind me. once we reach the porch deck, he jogs in front of me, opening the sliding door and letting me walk through first before he closes it again and fast walks towards the stairs, leading me up to my room.
he glances behind him every few seconds, as though making sure i’m still behind him, and i blush under his gaze.
finally reaching my bedroom, i open the door, letting him follow me in as i retrieve the USA Hockey hoodie off of my desk chair.
“here you go.” i spin around, ready to hold it out to him, but he’s already right behind me, a mere foot away.
“i lied.” he confesses, pushing the hoodie away.
“oh-”
“i just really wanted to talk to you alone. and i saw you wearing the hoodie yesterday, so i knew you had it and-”
“you don’t have to explain yourself.” i cut off his ramble, butterflies erupting in my stomach at the thought of him wanting to be alone with me.
“i don’t?” he furrows his brows as i throw the no-longer-needed hoodie onto my bed. i shake my head in response.
“no. i wanted to be alone with you too.” i admit, taking a step closer.
“oh, good! so i wasn’t reading you wrong? ‘cause if i was, you can just tell me to fuck off, i promise i won’t be hurt. i mean, okay maybe a little, but-”
“Ethan?” i chime in, stopping him from his nervous ranting.
“yeah?” he takes a step forward, leaving us close enough to touch.
“just kiss me, please?” at my words, he lets out a relieved sigh, nodding his head.
his hands come up to cup my face, pulling my lips to his in a quick but steady motion. our lips connect, his soft and tasting of the watermelon we were all snacking on as the fireworks went off. my hands snake around his neck, raking through the hair at the nape of it. i can feel him shiver as my nails lightly scratch against his scalp, and i smile into the kiss at the effect i’ve proven to have on him.
he pulls away, both of us sucking in a lungful of fresh air before he speaks-
“i’m captivated by you, baby; like a firework show.”
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bellewintersroe · 10 months
Text
Daniel Ricciardo x HornerDaughter! Reader.
Part 6 omggg! Not really too much to warn about in this chapter, mentions of smut and appearance from Max Verstappen who’s innocent asf. Only a short chapter, I’m going to have to wait to upload the rest of the parts when the Hungarian GP is over and done with this weekend so apologies for the small break! I’ll throw in another smut chapter just whilst you all wait <3
@benbarneslut @dinodumbass @ricci-ardo @allabouthappiness After sharing a bed for the past 2 nights, Daniel and y/n fear they’ve been caught out by a fellow Red Bull driver. Daniel jets off to Italy to the AlphaTauri headquarters, leaving them both feeling oddly sad at the parting.
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“But you’re excited to be going back?” She smiled, pulling her vest stop back on, “yeah, I can’t wait.” Daniel responded. The pair had been talking away, like always, about Daniels return to F1. “Excited to go to Italy too.” He added on.
“Looks pretty.” The HQ for AlphaTauri was there, so he’d be flying away until he got back to Hungary for the Grand Prix. She couldn’t like she was somewhat saddened that their two day romp had ended. They’d spent the past two nights together. “You ever been?”
“Hm?” She perked, stepping back into her jeans. “Have you ever been to Italy?”
“No, that’s the one place I’m literally desperate to go, every time there’s been a race I’ve some how missed it.” We’ll have to go, Daniel thought a little too quickly.
“Whattt, you’ve never been?!” She smiled at his dorky response. “Never.”
“You’re missing out.” He sat up from the messy bed where they had practically lived the past 48 hours. The bedsheets were dishevelled as he climbed out, grabbing a discarded shirt off the floor. It was 4pm and they’d been in bed, all day. “I know… I gotta go so bad.” She clipped her hair back, revealing the purple and red bruises Daniel had sucked into her neck.
“You’re gonna wanna hide those…” he sheepishly pointed out. As amusing as it was, he also was proud of his markings, very immature, he knew, but it reminded him of the endless pleasure the two brought one another.
“Oh, fuck you, Ricciardo…” ———————————————-
The group of them all sat around in the hotel lobby, relaxing as they waited on their transfer to the airport. It was all civilised conversations until Christian and Geri took the younger three kids to get food whilst y/n chilled with the rest of the people, stretched out on the plush couch. “So, you had a girl round last night?” Max questioned Daniel, nudging his side as both Daniel and y/n felt like they could choke on their own spit. “Huh?” Daniel coyly spoke, whilst she just remained eyeing them both up.
“I heard it all.” Max shrugged, holding up his hands. Daniels face flushed as he couldn’t hold back a laugh, rubbing over his forehead. “Not that was doing that on purpose.” Max grimaced as she pursed her lips, finding the situation all too amusing.
“I mean she seemed to be enjoying herself, so go you.” The Dutch man continued as she couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. “Sorry, I just… I overheard that’s all.” Daniel shot her an amused smile whilst half his face was hid. The eyes she gave him back, mixed with that pretty little smirk was filthy. Daniel wondered if she was glad Max heard, he had no idea that it was her.
When the transfer came, she felt a little disappointed at the small hug she gave Daniel. She’d wished for a kiss or some kinda kind words, but that would’ve been way too obvious. “Have a safe trip.” He muttered to her, hand purposefully giving her back a squeeze, desperate to give her a proper goodbye. He knew he was in way too deep, the fact he felt down about parting from her for a mere week? Worst of all, he’d text her, saying he wished he could give her a real goodbye, something that made her smile to herself and her father to question who was making her giggle like that. “Nobody.” She’d replied, fingers pressing into her keys below. You gave me the best goodbye in the hotel room so idk what you’re talking about Daniel, too, found himself smiling to his phone like a teenager. When his eyes rested on her small picture set to her icon, he felt his heart soften, the smell of her perfume still clinging to his top she’d worn only hours prior. He wore it purposefully.
“Messaging ya girlfriend?” The chaperone cheeked as he glanced up to the Frenchman ahead of him.
“Ah, someone like that…”
367 notes · View notes
mundoperla · 1 year
Note
Vincent Sinclair with a shy S/O
One day a bunch of teenage boys come and there openly flirting with her, while she did the job for Bo since there was no females to flirt with.
She came back to Vincent aggressively painting nude paintings of her in explicit positions something he’d never do because he was too shy. Catching her watching him, he finally did what he wanted to do out of anger
Sorry if it’s too much you don’t have to do nsfw if you don’t want too <3
HEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEGI
𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣.🔞
Vincent Sinclair x shy Fem!Reader
— Despite your reserved shy nature, you’ve got someone who’s the exact same eating that act up behind the scenes.
⚠️‼️tws;; creepy ass dudes saying creepy ass things, brief mentions of violence, vinny boy having indecent thoughts abt you, p in v SEX👺, fingering kind of??, overstimulation, basement sex too ig u could call it
i want him so bad
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Lester hand already let you and his brothers know another group was being directed to Ambrose so guests were expected at some point in the day. Bo had asked you to stay at the station while he went back to the house to retrieve a few things, you understood what to do and what to say, how to be even just the smallest bit comforting despite being aware of what was to come to the unfortunate few who were to step foot into the town.
The loud honking of a car horn had startled you from the mindless scrolling you were doing on your phone, looking up through the glass doors to see a group of boys roughly around college age in the vehicle. Two of them had gotten out and walked into the shop, the usual ask of a fan belt was brought up and you got to your fake search for one.
“ Are all the girls around here as fine as you are? “ one of them whistled at you, you could feel your stomach drop in disgust but you merely laughed it off and continued to stay on the subject of the fan belt they needed. Reluctantly trying to swerve into a different conversation just so that the comment could be forgotten.
“ Hey come on now, he asked you a question and you’re not gonna answer ? How ‘bout once we finish up fixin’ our car you come out with us ? ” The second one stood straight behind you, his eyes were glued to you which made your anxiety worse.
“ I don’t think so. There isn’t a fan belt here it looks like.. try the house further up the road, not that far of a walk from down here. Bo should have spares up there. ” at this point you just said fuck it to trying to remain calm, you were screaming on the inside looking for every excuse in the book to get these fuckers to piss off.
Despite your efforts, they kept insisting that you leave the town with them to go who knows where. The last three guys in the vehicle outside poking their heads out to gawk at you like the pair inside. You were exhausted, tired, and you wanted more than anything for them to leave.
But most importantly, you wanted to see Vincent.
You weren’t too sure where he was or what he was doing, you naturally felt too afraid to bother him whilst he could be working. But god damn did you need to see him right now.
Luckily for your sake, Bo had came back. He could tell by your body language that you were uncomfortable, giving you a look of what could almost be described as worried.
“ You can head out, Vincent’s probably in his lil’ cave. I’ll take it from here.”
• • •
Vincent’s hands trembled as he hastily sketched onto the sketchbook he had flat on his desk. He felt sick at the thought of any of those men eyeing you down.
He wasn’t upset at you for anything that had transpired, he was upset that your timidness was turning him in at the most inconvenient time.
Bo had buzzed in to let Vincent know what had happened, to which Vincent was furious for but he also wanted to be there for you while it happened.
But of course, his mind wandered.
Would you cower if he made a bold comment towards you? Would you stutter on your words if he called you gorgeous? Would you do all of these while he made you writhe on his-
This was dirty.
Your shyness was always adorable to him, one of his favorite things about you to be exact. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you any of these raunchy thoughts so instead he uses his own abilities to get as close as possible to seeing you in your most vulnerable.
His head could only be filled with mental images of you in positions he couldn’t even name. His hands merely transfering it onto the paper in front of him, ripping each page of his sketchbook out onto the floor to later shove in a folder somewhere where nobody could ever see but him.
For fucks sake, now was an inappropriate time to be aroused. Yet his own desires persisted leaving him more frustrated than before. HE deserves you, HE’S the only one who should make you flustered and leave you stuttering. You understand this too dont you?
Would you still be shy if he had you stripped entirely for him on his bed? when he had you bent over his lap as he curled his fingers inside of you? Jesus the mess you’d make on him would drive him bat shit crazy. He’d completely shatter you in fromt of all of those men to show who you belonged to. He can’t stop this, god he needs you so terribly bad it hurts. Won’t you-
“ Vincent? ”
His head snapped to his left where you were standing. He didn’t hear you come down.
You picked up some of the sketches from the floor and stared at them, the same familiar blush creeping up on your cheeks the more you looked as well as scanning the page he was almost completed with. Vincent was relatively open with you about many things, but never with sexual topics out of fear you’d be disgusted.
All he could do was look at you, unsure of how to react by being caught drawing his own set of ‘material’ of just you. You’re equally as flustered as he is, however you’d be lying if you said you weren’t as turned on as he was.
You open your mouth to speak again but you’re immediately cut off as Vincent slams his sketchbook onto the floor and tosses you up on his table, hurrily moving his mask up to reveal only his lips to clash into your own. His calloused fingers are roaming your legs and all along your torso, everything is moving so fast you’re completely left with no room to cower. His mouth moves down from your jawline to your neck, further down as he begins to practically rip apart the shirt you were wearing, coincidentally it being one of his own.
“ Hey- H-hey Vincent! ”
Your words go through one of his ears and out the other one, he needs you now and he’s tired of waiting. He’s still pissed off from earlier, he needs to mark you, leave your brain scrambled so you can only think of him, let you and everyone else know who exactly it is you belong to. His long black hair drapes over his masked face, pooling through your fingers as you grab a handful of it whilst he continues to rip apart your clothing, leaving you completely bare on his table.
He’s struggling with his jeans to get them off him all whilst trying to scoot you closer to the edge. Once he’s fully put of his own garments he wastes no time inserting himself into you.
Vincent wont wait for you to adjust to his size, he’s rutting into you like a man possessed. His hands are squeezing your hips tightly, leaving deep purple bruises in their place. The mask still left his lips uncovered, enough for him to bite and kiss at your chest and shoulders.
It felt like the tip was battering the inside of your cervix, with every thrust it felt as if he was fucking all the air out of your lungs. There was only so much you could do in this position — let out one pathetic whine after the other as your boyfriend completely obliterated you.
Where can he cum first? your face? your stomach? your back? in your mouth? keep squeezing him the way you’re doing now and he’ll fill up your cunt with his load until he’s completely run dry.
Vincent purposely edges himself, he won’t let himself have his own release until he feels like you’ve had enough of your own.
You’ve came for him more times than you can count, your pussy feels so sensitive the more he rips another orgasm out of you. You’re well aware he’s enjoying the sight of his pelvis and his thighs covered in your juices.
All the pretty sounds you let out are his notion to keep going, flipping you on your stomach to have you bent over for him, one hand still firm on your hip whilst the other lands occasional slaps onto your ass. You’re gonna stay down here until he’s done.
Or at least until another buzz of the radio comes in.
“ Three on their way to you, last two’re at the house with me now. Be ready. ”
You can feel Vincent squeeze you ince more before pulling himself out of you begrudgingly. The sudden feeling of emptiness causing you to whine.
He wasn’t done yet. He had more to do with you.
Your hands manage to reach out to grab the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him in for another kiss. Despite his previous behavior this is what flustered him the most.
Putting your semi-torn clothing back onto you, he carries you over to the mattress he had settled in the corner of his workspace. He began to walk to tbe stairs to handle the guests that would be arriving soon, just before leaving he hears the ting of your voice;
“ When you get back let’s continue where we left off! ”
•••
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moonlit-imagines · 4 months
Text
Headcanons for being another displaced Padawan with Cal Kestis
Cal Kestis x jedi!reader
warnings: angst, STAR WARS JEDI SURVIVOR SPOILERS
a/n:
prompt:
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you and cal went way back
like, jedi padawan back
so after the purge, about five years later, you guys reunited by chance. thanks to cere junda, no less
and, god, seeing someone so familiar after trying to get by on your own, someone who knew the feeling of the trajectory of your life being thrown off before you were ready, that wasn’t easy to come by
“you’re here” -cal
“i’m here” -you
“we survived” -cal
“just barely” -you
cere was delighted that the two of you could have lifted each other’s spirits so much, which was very much needed in desperate times, as you two were just given a very important mission by a former jedi master in your order
you and cal kicked some serious ass together, helping one another relearn old lessons your masters had taught during your youth
“i think running across walls was the hardest thing i was ever taught” -you
“it took me forever to get that right! i could only get two steps in before i plummeted to the floor!” -cal
you shared a lot of stories and emotions during travels, in private
and not all of them were positive, but this was the first chance you’d had in five years to face these emotions, to air out your feelings
“do you miss the clones? i was so fond of our battalion, they were always so kind to me” -you
“i think…i think that was the worst part. the people who defended us in battle, gave me pep talks before training, always there, that same face at every turn suddenly behind the blaster that was meant to put me down” -cal
“i miss them” -you
cal and you had your missions together…and separately. you’d be on one planet and he on the other, trying to race the empire and inquisitors to the holocron
“it could happen all over again” -you
“it could be the key to saving the galaxy” -cal
“or we’d be creating a generational tragedy” -you
“so would the empire” -cal
“you’ve got me there” -you
cal gifting you ponchos from his travels (lol)
“any chance you like pink?” -cal
“well…” -you
braving zeffo alone while you knew cal was somewhere far more dangerous, you had a bad feeling about it
but your teachings from the order were always the same, no attachment. mission first, feelings second…no, last
but on cal’s adventure, he found merrin, a nightsister from dathomir
you hadn’t seen any nightsisters since ventress, which did happen to make you feel a bit off
“cal…you sure?” -you
“trust me, y/n. things have changed. merrin is just like us” -cal
“cal told me much about you. another survivor. a pleasure” -merrin
you and merrin grew quite close actually
she was truly spectacular, and swapping stories with her was sort of educational
“wait…the jedi responsible for the nightsister genocide? you said lightsabers, plural? how many?” -you
“four” -merrin
“two green, two blue?” -you
“precisely. how did you know?” -merrin
“hang on, no way—” -cal
“my master killed him shortly before we were split up…when the clones turned” -you
“grevious? really? master kenobi finally got him?” -cal
“who is this ‘grevious?’” -merrin
“general grevious, he was a separatist general—a cyborg. he wasn’t a jedi, he stole lightsabers from his kills. he ordered the attack on your home” -cal
“i’m so sorry, merrin” -you
you three were still healing from many scars, but doing it together was much more achievable than trying alone
it was a wonder you even made it to fortress inquisitorius
you, cal, cere. all three of you fought like hell to save those kids.
now, cal and you, you two had much different perspectives than say, cere or trilla
displaced padawans. little guidance. cal was barely old enough to even be a padawan learner, but times were desperate and the order called upon the youngling to start quite early. you were in a similar boat. it made you two see eye to eye better than most
trilla, a padawan with much more training and insight, one who was failed by the order that she was most loyal to. failed by her own master.
cere, a devout jedi master who failed many people who were counting on her. who lost herself to a side of herself that every jedi is supposed to fight.
and just before any resolution could come of all of you together, the famed and feared darth vader showed himself
and the sinking feeling you felt before he arrived froze you
“what is it, y/n? y/n?” -cere
*ominous breathing sounds*
you shook off the feeling, fleeing instead
cal and you were split up when you swore vader made a point to hold you back
“run cal! get out of here!” -you
“y/n l/n, i was hoping i would see you” -vader “where is obi-wan?!”
“i thought you were dead” -you
“is that what he told you?” -vader
“you’re going to kill me to get back at him? i haven’t seen him since the purge, anakin! i left!” -you
“there is no anakin!” -vader “did you leave, or did he leave you?”
“are you just going to let cal get away?” -you
“he can’t get far” -vader
“my journey is not important to you” -you
“you are like me, y/n. obi-wan failed us. these inquisitors are weak, impressionable, disposable. but i know how you think. i know how he thinks. i give you the opportunity to join me. fight with me.” -vader
“i saw the holotapes, anakin. i saw what you did to the younglings and i will not let you do it again. we are not alike, obi-wan did not fail me. i took a page out of ahsoka’s book, i found my own path. and it is not beside you.” -you
“this is not over, y/n. i trust you’ll find your way out” -vader, force pushing you off a ledge
you did find you way back out and merrin was quick to save you before going back for cal
you were left completely unharmed, as well, which was quite the surprise to everyone else
“what happened back there, y/n?” -cal
“nothing i’d like to relive” -you
cal nodded and let it go, focusing on the holocron floating before you all
your mind kept replaying memories as they discussed what to do with it
memories of anakin’s massacre. vader’s speech. younglings you couldn’t save. luke and leia somewhere across the galaxy. the inquisitors.
“destroy it.” -you
in one quick swipe, cal took his lightsaber to the glowing blue cube. no questions asked
and from there on, it was no longer about the order. you remembered why you left in the first place. the purge, the politics, your master couldn’t contain himself. your troops turned their blasters on you. everything you were taught was bantha fodder. and you were just a padawan
it was now about disassembling. scaring the people in power while giving the little guy some hope.
“this is a much better gig than obi-wan playing by the rules” -you
“from what you told me, him and anakin never played by the rules” -cal
the name made you shudder, but you pushed past it
“well, anakin was known as the rulebreaker. obi-wan always tried to reel him in. but, i’ve noticed a rule or two that master kenobi had bent” -you
“anakin has a padawan too, right?” -cal
“he did. she was also a rule breaker. when she left the order, i almost followed her. last i heard, she went to mandalore with half of the 501st. i, uh—” -you
“right…” -cal
you were still haunted from the encounter on nurr. still hadn’t told cal and it was eating you up inside.
but the fighting made it feel better
dismantling, stealing, helping
and then merrin left. and cere. and greez settled down. and you and cal were just two makeshift jedi knights with your tragic pasts and your need to keep your place in the galaxy
and keep each other close
but not too close
those rules you followed, the one’s obi-wan followed, you threw them out a long time ago. the jedi order was corrupt. you examined each council master postmortem and decided that they were all flawed despite their rank. you hated them for it.
but decided the one teaching you would follow would be to lose hate, a step to the dark side.
you didn’t really even know at this point, what was the difference between right and wrong anymore
cal and you continued fighting. joined up with saw gerrera. never left each other’s sides
which…sparked feelings you’d never really been taught or told how to deal with
only aversion, really. but it wasn’t like you didn’t really talk about it
“i don’t really see the problem with it. look at everything else we do, that’s not exactly the jedi way” -you
“it’s dangerous” -cal
“love is dangerous?” -you
“attachment is” -cal
“i figured you already had attachments. we were all a crew before this” -you
“i let them all go” -cal
“and you’d let me go?” -you
you began constantly questioning these ways and trying to fight for a new future with cal, without pressing too hard
but it was hard to ignore those feelings and harder to constantly be denied by your old life
and it was harder when the new crew always teased you two
“come on, kestis. if you don’t, i will” -gabs
“yeah, just go for it. who’s it hurting?” -bravo
“i’m just not ready to go there” -cal
you were more bothered than you let on
but you always put the mission first
up until your trip back to coruscant
“this is just a reminder of how little it all matters now. there’s no one left.” -you
“that’s why it matters” -cal
the intensity of this mission made it so it was just the two of you again
and maybe that would spark something…but you doubted it
taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @gabile18 // @sweetjedi // @retvenkos // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @dontyousassmeok // @dindjarinsspouse // @zoeyserpentluck // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @sheridans-dynamos // @lady-violet // @simsrecs // @xoxobabydolls // @ruvaakke // @simp-legend // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @your-local-simp0 // @elenavampire21 // @pheonixfire777 //
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scarlet-ancunin · 17 days
Note
omg BATSTARION, please can you please write about Tav being a druid ( a cat or dog whatever you like) who visits a cave just to visit Batstarion, and then one day Astarion is normal sitting in the cave waiting for the cat to visit and when they do it is Tav and that is the first time they see each other as there normal self.
A/n: heh sure okay, and because Astarion is a cat person and we purr for him i will make our gn Tav a cat but they will also be a druid for obvious reason. Enjoy~
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧
We Meet Again
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Tav made it a tradition to visit a cave near the beach at Baldur's Gate it was secluded and did have a pretty sight of the ocean and the sunsets. Today was just like any other day, small black paws trailed along the familiar path towards that cave entrance.
Being a druid came with perks and this certainly was one of them since said cave wasn't exactly big it was small so by rights of being this size Tav deemed it a cave to them.
The question was, why did Tav visit this cave? They always seemed to come three times a week when they had business near this part of the city. Well as they crawled into the falled rubble they walked along until they hopped on top of a large but smooth surface.
"Meow" Tav called out softly and after a few moments They could hear the familiar flap echoing before a white bat with a unique curl of fur on top their head, with red eyes and cute little fangs of course their perception failed since they didn't had a red flag seeing them.
The bat simply plops on Tav's cat body and squeaks loudly flapping his wings as if happy to see them. The other perk of being a druid a special ability to speak to animals without spending money on animal speaking potions.
"Hello darling its been to long" The white bat squeaks at the end and flops dramatically on Tav's furry back. They rolled their eyes lays carefully as to not disturb the moment. "It was only a day ago i saw you" "still long as far as im concern, now say your sorry"
Tav's ears twitch lightly before saying sorry which seemed to brighten his mood once more. In truth Tav felt bad to be deceiving the cute little white bat since they can shift to human but they was thinking about taking them home where they can see the sights instead of being stuck in a cave. Sometimes they would bring him something to eat insects. He appreciated the kind gestures but Tav noticed he would look dazed whenever it was brought and they seemed sad on those days so Tav rarely does it luckily Astarion informs they he does eat.
Tav also had a odd infatuation with this dramatic Bat, sure it wouldn't be normal but they always wanted to be with him whenever they can and spend as much time as possible.
Tav decided to do something different today "when the sunsets can we sit at the beach" the bat scrunch his tiny face "thats new why?" Tav ears went back their paw lightly pushing a stray pebble Astarion found it cute seeing that meant they was embarrassed.
"I wanted to see the stars with you. Thats what your name means after all" Astarion was surprised by this squeaking cutely and flapping his wings before crawling over cutely and climbing unto Tav's back once more "only if you carry my last thing i want is my nails getting dirty by sand" he complains and They purr loudly as if happy. Luckily no one mentioned it.
The calm waves was soothing to hear whole the stars seemed to give them a beautiful scenery twinkling away like a person that is carefree.
Tav sat on the sand looking at the Moon slowly rising reflecting nicely on the ocean waves while Astarion was resting on top of there head squeaking happily. "Your right this is nice" he sniffs the air making his little nose twitch before looking down at Tav having the sudden urge to bite them. So he does and nips their ear making the black cat yelp low and hiss "Astarion you promised you wouldn't do that", "At that time not now so it doesn't count" he turned his little bat head to the side slightly and squeaks.
They stayed they way until Astarion slowly fell asleep on top of Tav while they curled up. Of course Tav woke up in time to gentle wake Astarion to head back inside since they had to go there was a sad look in his eyes if the sudden wetness around the cute red pupils didn't say anything. He made his way back inside whole Tav ran back to the city tiny paws left behind.
There was a week since Astarion last saw Tav. He missed them he also felt bad for lying to them because this was not his form. He made up his mind to take Tav home with him so she won't live on the streets anymore. His home wasn't big but it was in the corner of the city and blocked the sun a little better.
When the wall of the cave he was in crumbles more and a human crawls in now they both stare at each other shocked "your-" Astarion says at the same time Tav says "your not"
Now they stare at each other Tav slowly feeling a blush growing since the man before them was very handsome. "So your not an actual bat" Tav asked suddenly after they realized they was staring.... Respectfully. "Clearly not darling, but your not an actual cat so i suppose we both are full of surprises"
Tav chuckles and suddenly hugs Astarion which surprised the man but he slowly responds to it slightly awkwardly but he surprisingly welcomed it to it felt nice. Upon agreement Tav wanted Astarion to stay with them so they wont be alone and possibly make more money together then separate. Which Astarion agreed to after informing them he was... well a vampire Spawn which Tav didn't mind oddly. "I figured it out finally when you keep nipping me on those occasions and the bite mark on my cat ear left two tiny holes"
"Its sunny outside i cannot-" "turn into a bat and go inside my cloak" Tav said this to happy and almost as if they hoped he would. "Uh. Okay" he ignored how they whispered yes happily before shifting into a white bat with that same unique curl before slipping into their cloak tiny head peeking out which They happily pet the top of earning a content Squeak.
"Im truly happy i met you Astarion"
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧
Narrator: Little did Tav know the small creature in their bossom was just as happy to have met them.
Hope you like this~
BTW your welcomed to send me Batstarion and im oddly interested in Astarion being a father he deserves to be happy so you can send me those as well yep :)
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Text
Love or Obsession?
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pairing(s): young!yandere!nick goode x shadysider!reader, platonic!ziggy berman x reader.
summary: after seeing you with tommy, nick’s not sure what he feels for you is love or obsession. but one thing’s for sure, you’re his.
warnings: toxicity, gore, blood, murder(?), manipulation, obsession, yandere, tommy becomes possessed lol, possession, mentions of sacrificing, mature language.
i wasn’t sure if I should add a spoiler warning considering the three movies have been out for some time now so I didn’t add one. sorry! but enjoy. and don’t really worry it doesn’t go by the plot of the movies anyway(mostly).
You were a camper. And he was a counselor. Okay, you weren’t that young. Only two years younger than he was. You wouldn’t deny having a small attraction for Nick Goode, Sheriff Goode’s son and the king of Sunnyvale.
Though he didn’t have a huge ego like you had expected. In fact, he was down to earth and kind, and kind of introverted. You shared similar hobbies. But you were a shadysider and sunnyvalers didn’t particularly get along with Shadysiders.
It was an normal day, well, a normal Sunny day. You definitely liked nature, but was worn out from the hiking and activities.
“Worn out? Tommy teased. “Kind of yeah, you chuckle. He wasn’t that much older than you yet a counselor. You didn’t even plan on becoming one anyway.
Yeah, you liked helping out with children but wanted a better job and focus on studies at the same time. “Hey, it’s fine, he assured you.”some of these kids never run out of energy.”
“I know right? You chuckle. Neither of you noticed that Nick had been glaring daggers right into Tommy’s skull. He was pissed. More so jealous. That you were the one Tommy was interested in. Everyone knew that.
Including him. And he needed to do something about it. He felt something for you, that he knew for sure. But wasn’t sure on what. Love or Obsession? Could it be both.
It had been passed down from family to family. Sacrifices. Possessions. And it was Nick’s turn. He already had a name in mind. At that moment, he decided Tommy would be the perfect candidate for possession. And kill all. Then you wouldn’t be so interested in him now would you?
Shadyside wasn’t a shithole for no reason. And as everyone suspected, it was a curse. Placed by Solomon Goode all those years ago back in 1666.
You suddenly trip, but Tommy caught you before you fell. You laughed. "You're a life saver. I swear." He blushed. "It's no big deal, Y/n."
You smile. "Well, I mean, i think so. You're so sweet. You know, helping everyone." "That's what a counselor does... He smiles, before rushing over to help with the next activity.
You didn't know then, that would be the final time you would see Tommy before hell broke loose. You grew tired so eventually you fell asleep quite early. Normally, You were up and ready.
When suddenly, You hear screams. You leave your cabin quick. "Y/N! Ziggy yells. "Ziggy! What's happening? You exclaim. "The witch... she possessed Tommy... Ziggy said.
"No... You frown."Not him. Why him?" Ziggy replies,”I don’t know we just have to go! I don’t want you to die!”
“I won’t, just promise me you won’t, and you’ll live, You say, standing close by your best friend. “I promise, she replies.
You both ran for your lives. You always believed that witch shit even though you shouldn’t. Because last summer, you found something you shouldn’t.
Back then you were a skeptical of the Sarah Fier Legend. A curse on Shadyside, Really? You knew the town had bad luck but a curse was out of reach.
Then you found a ritual. someone who worshipped satan or whatever had a place to go for that. And look what you found. The names of each shadyside killer carved into rocks no human could’ve done with their bare hands.
And it seemed quite obvious that Sarah fier was behind it. After all, she wanted revenge. But that was before Tommy’s name had been put into it. Which explained why Nurse Lane attacked him.
You didn’t want to admit it but she should’ve. It would’ve prevented a huge massacre. But you adored tommy. Though oblivious to his obvious feelings for you.
You two ran for a while until you screamed,”Tommy!” He was right in front of you and was about to strike but turned his attention to Ziggy.
“No! You yell and as he was about to you move her out of the way, both of you unharmed. “Y/N, you could’ve died! I can’t lose you! She said.
“Look, we’re both okay? And it was odd, he didn’t even… try to kill me, You say. “I know, maybe his feelings for you were why, ziggy blurted.
“What? You say. “Oh, She said. "You didn’t know? It was so obvious he was in love with you.” “I thought he was into Cindy… You say. “No, she’s into Alice and everyone also knows that, Ziggy said.
"Whatever, we need to hide! He killed Jeremy, Jesse, Stacey and More kids! You yell, sobbing but tried not to. Ziggy nods. You grew up with her, if you lost her, you wouldn't know how to live.
You run with her, her hand in yours, you didn't want to let go. "Hey look! I found somewhere we could hide... Ziggy begins."Fuck, Cindy! Where is she?"
"Where did you see her last? You asked. "I-I don’t remember, we just should find her, Ziggy said. "Also, I locked Sheila in the bathroom." "Good one, You said. "But she could be killed. Plus, I heard something about Cindy and Alice going somewhere involving Sarah Fier."
"Okay, come on! Ziggy said, you run to the bathroom but now you were growing exhausted. "Sheila? You say. "Fucking Shadysider Bitch! Sheila replied. "Did you lock me in here?"
"Y/n didn't, I did... But come on, Ziggy entering the bathroom before Sheila began attacking her. You pulled her off of Ziggy. ”Calm down. there’s a killer and you have to leave or-“
“Of course it’s always a shadysider huh? Sheila said. "I mean, you’re the reason this shit is happening.” “Shut the fuck up, you don’t know what’s going on first of all, You say, laced with venom in your voice. "Second, I think we can all agree none of us want to die so-“
“Hello! Cindy said, and you could hear her voice. "Can anybody hear us?” Ziggy realized like you that it was Cindy and follows the voice. Only to see them under the bathroom.
“What are you guys doing there? You say. “Oh thank fucking god, Alice said. “It’s a long story but… can you help us out? Cindy said.
“Yeah of course, You reply. Ziggy come help me.” “No hesitation, Ziggy said, relief that her sister was okay. You help them up. Apparently Tommy was possessed first there. He killed Alice's stoner friend, Arnie.
"Wow, You said, hearing everything. "I mean, i knew of the whole ritual stuff. But-" "You knew he would be possessed? Ziggy asked. You shook your head."No, But i knew then this witch shit was real."
"Oh."
"In order to stop this, we need to reunite her hand with her body, Cindy said. You nodded. You noticed how she held onto Alice's hand. You hadn't seen Nick, Will, Joan or Kurt in a while. Which made you wonder if they were murdered too.
Nick was acting kind of lately, you didn't know why. But either way, you had to find out. "Well, where is her body? I don't think she had been buried anywhere near here, You point out.
"Y/n's right, Ziggy agreed. "Look, she is, Alice said, moving the book in front of you. You read and looked it over. "Holy shit she is, You exclaimed.
"Fuck, Ziggy said. "Which is why we could bury her hand with her body, we know where her hand is too, Cindy explained. You nodded. "Then what are we waiting for? We could end this curse now."
"Okay, Cindy said. "Come on." Sarah Fier's hand was in the front on fhe table. It soon made sense why she had been buried under the tree where she had been hung. But when you accidentally touched her skeletal hand, you saw everything. You wiped your bloody nose. "I saw the witch. She was pissed. So we we should hurry up."
You grabbed any weapons you could. Even if you didn't know if you could kill or hurt anybody. But before Alice could even kill, Tommy killed her. Cindy angrily lunged at him, and so did you.
Your eyes were filled with tears but you didn't let them fall. "Alice, don't die on us, You said softly. "Please." However, she took her last breath and became another victim. But everyone couldn't mourn for long.
Everyone heard someone singing. "Ruby Lane, You said. "Come on, we have to go." Cindy was naturally reluctant but agreed. Somehow, you got lost from Cindy and Ziggy, who you figured were digging.
As you walked, hoping you could find your way back, you bumped into Nick. "Nick! You're okay! You said, sighing of relief. "Y/N, where were you.. He said, his voice filled with concern. "I... think we could end this curse, You said."
"Y/n, come on, this witch stuff isn't real, he just went crazy, Nick said. "No, Nick, I saw her, She's pissed, I saw the fucking witch! You exclaim. Tommy, the sweet guy you knew, didn't just go crazy. Neither did Nurse Lane. She was right. Of course she had been.
"Hey, this will all be over, Nick assures you, suddenly hugging you, pulling you close while you cried on his shoulder, not seeing the smirk on his face.
Everything was going according to plan.
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i9fairy · 28 days
Text
ship: leon kennedy x neutral reader
sinopse: just leon and you in a intimate and very private situationship.
n/a: Sorry if there are any mistakes! English is not my main language And this is my first time writing something like this.
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It was a Friday night when I saw him again, standing at my door. With his face bruised, with its blonde strands falling over his face like a jigsaw puzzle, there were scratches on his arms that could be seen with the naked eye. When he saw that I was looking there, probably with my face of silly concern, he spoke.
"I'm fine," he said. I didn't believe him.
But what else could I do? I let it go.
Leon Scott Kennedy and I had been at this routine dance since we finished. He would come home, his house in fact, after each mission. I would pretend not to see his red and white scars (the ones that had already healed) and we would hang out. As a bonus, I pretended I didn't feel his presence sitting on my bed when I retired to sleep. I pretended not to feel his arms when he hugged me while I, supposedly, slept...Ours was complicated. we broke up after he went to Spain and when he came back... His nightmares consumed him and consequently his traumas swallowed our relationship. What followed were days of discussing what was going to happen. I lived, well, I'm still living, alone with him. We both decided to keep things as they were, to let our department just stay that way. He paid for it, because his secret work, which he couldn't tell me anything about but which on more than one occasion had made him almost never return, left a good pay, even if it was at the expense of his mental health. In addition, it had already been difficult enough to enter the market of looking for a job despite my university career, even more difficult was going to be the fact of getting a job as an infant teacher and with my salary... No, no way. Leon had been kind enough to that and I will always be grateful to him.
And my way of thanking him was by making him homemade cookies, Leon loved it when I cooked for him, and healing his wounds by changing his bandages. It was routine, it was simple, it was quiet. What Leon needed after the hell he had lived through, although I couldn't even imagine it. At that moment we were both on the couch, here was our tacit deal: he would buy me whatever I wanted (even if I didn't tell him, because I still had pikes of shame in me) and I wouldn't ask about what happened. Nothing at all. I was just assuming or drawing conclusions about how bad it had been this time because of the number of injuries.
And here was my conclusion this time, it had been moderately bad.
"did you try a new method?" he questioned, looking at my cookies. I wasn't stupid, of course I wasn't, I knew Leon thought I was, but no sir. I had looked at files on his computer and... I remember not eating that day. It was horrifying. "Why? Did you notice that they are more delicious this time?" I asked. "mh... maybe worse than last time. bug don't worry, you're going to get better at your cooking skills," he teased and we both laughed. I did it against my will. In those moments I wondered, why had we broken up? Our inside jokes were still intact and he made us both smile like the first day we had thought of it, our chemistry was in the air and I saw him like pink hearts around him even seeing him in all the ways you could see a human being and still love him... My love for him was intact, I knew that his love for me too otherwise, he would not return to my arms every time.
After we both fell asleep on the couch, he returned to his work a week later. And he came home months later, maybe two or three. I never counted them because I was too nervous.
When he came back, I saw that the refrigerator was missing beers, I saw that there were drops of blood from my refrigerator to the bathroom and I heard the shower running.
There, there was the reason why we broke up. Again he had relapsed.
Because that was the thing with Leon Kennedy, living with him wasn't difficult at all. The really difficult thing was to live with his footprints.
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quigonswife8 · 1 year
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Thankful: Namor x reader
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Wakanda Forever spoilers!!
Warnings: near-death experience
A/N: In love with Namor fr. Tenoch is fantastic as Namor! I also love the movie so much. Also this is a bit short, sorry about that ya’ll.
gif creds: @unicornspwnall
-
"I can heal her..."
You mutter, flicking your eyes up to Nakia. Nakia, who tries to pull you away- but you don't budge.
"(y/n)-"
"I can heal her. You three, go."
"(y/n).". Shuri urges, grabbing onto one of the loose tassels on your jacket.
"Please-"
"Go.." you demand- looking at Nakia, and then back to Shuri.
"Go."
So, she lets go of the tassel. Steps back. Then quickly joins up with Nakia and Riri again: with one last glance, she disappears with the other two. Leaving you alone, once more.
Next you place two hands on top of where she'd been shot. The woman stares up at you scared but you reassure her it will be okay. Taking a deep breath you begin to heal her: a white glow of energy releases from your hands.
Her eyes widen- awe written on her features. Your power is beautiful- people often look this way when they first see you heal. Though it takes a lot out of you and you often pass out because of this. Right now the lightheadedness is already taking over, but you keep healing her.
Not even noticing when Namor enters the room. His mouth opened to speak this woman's name; until it closes, then he sort of just stands there staring at you.
"What are you doing...?"
"Healing her." not looking away from her, but letting Namor know you're paying attention to him. "She was shot."
The light soon dims: the wound is gone. You pull your hands away which are now shaking.
"...she'll be fine..."
She sits up, unable to form words, but her eyes say enough. Namor slowly approaches, while you stay there a moment longer wanting to compose yourself.
He kneels in front of her, one of his hands moving to take hers. Then he says something that you can't quite make out, but from the looks of it, it's good. Namor...smiles, and then looks at you.
"She says thank you."
Flicking your eyes to the , you nod.
"You're welcome."
Namor helps her to her feet, and then when he's certain she'll be alright, he approaches you. A hand held out for you to take:
"...and..." you take his hand after a moment, "...thank you. This is from me.”
"Of course.”
He lets you go, and takes a step back. Though up close you can tell how much he means this: since it rarely happens.
Now as you stand there you can't help but smile at the man. Despite everything you feel...different around him. Still you know someone will be coming back for you, sooner or later, and they'll try and stop Namor.
Though if you're being honest, you can see where Namor is coming from. You feel for him.
"...someone is going to be coming for me soon." you admit, but Namor isn't dumb.
"I know."
Taking another step towards you, he chuckles. His eyes, they hold so many things, but right now? Right now they hold kindness. You’d saved this woman’s life, one of his people, he’s not sure how he’ll be able to repay you.
Right now, though…now he wants to show you something, before you are ‘rescued’ that that no one, not even shuri, has seen. Only people who truly deserve to see it, he’ll show, and you definitely count.
"...so…” Namor begins, holding out his hand “Let me show you something before they do."
It’s so sudden, but you begin to battle with yourself.
One part of you is telling you to say 'no', to 'run away', but the other part is urging you to take his hand. That this will be the last time you'll see one-another and that no harm will come from this. The other part fights back, stronger, urging you to just leave.
He doesn't seem bad at all
He has been through a lot, wanting to fight those who have wronged him. Wronged his people. You have been doing that- for basically your whole life- so while other's see Namor as a villain you don't.
"Please."
His voice. soft. softer than before, and a smile. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, but he doesn't move his hand away. He waits...then he smiles more, when you take his hand.
You don't say anything else, not really sure what to say, only listening to Namor, as he talks to you while bringing you to where he wanted to show you.
An hour from now you'll be gone...though you hope that things will change.
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littledollll · 1 year
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Hi there! I was wondering if I could request a Larissa Weems x fem reader fic? Reader is an outcast too, she can control people's dreams (for better or for worse) however she can't control her own, and she's the language teacher at Nevermore and her and Larissa have been dating for a little while now. One night she has a really bad nightmare about something from the past, Larissa manages to wake her up from it; as reader had been clawing at her own skin, making it bleed etc and when she wakes up larissa has her arms pinned and is trying to calm her down? Like laying on top of her trying to level out her breathing, kissing her cheek as she whispers "You're okay, you're okay." Like Larissa baby-ing her, that kind of thing? I'm sorry if this is a little long
I’ll keep you safe
Larissa Weems x outcast!reader
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Warnings: annoying teenagers٫ Stress٫ nightmares٫ unintentional self harm(it’s not too focused on), being physically restrained, idk what else
A/n: Anon i have to say, i loved this request so much i got down like 6 paragraphs in about 10 minutes, instant ideas so thank you!!, I chose Spanish since you didn’t specify and it’s my first language (in short im lazy)
“We’re doing oral reports in two weeks! I want you all to pick a topic of interest and do research on it, this will have to include a progress turn in every two days, I don’t want you guys doing it all last minute, that’s one grade. Then your written work, just what you’re going to say up front so I can follow along and assist you when you need it! That’s another grade. The final grade will be your oral report, there’s different criteria I will be reviewing but that will be in a handout I’ll give you guys on Monday we will discuss it then!”
You can hear the collective groaning and complains coming from all sides of the class, “wait when do the two weeks start”, people trying to convince you to do something else, “Would you consider adding more time?”, those asking if they can skip the oral part and just to the other two things, and the two or three going “oh does it have to be in Spanish” like it’s not the whole point of the class and assignment.
“It will be three easy grades don’t let me down guys! Yes I know how much you guys hate it but it’s in the curriculum and you will need this depending on what you want to do in the future. You! Yes my love we can negotiate the turn in period, don’t worry”
“No I am not changing the assignment! No you can’t NOT do the oral report, you will lose a full grade unless you can give me a justified reason as to why you can’t speak up front. Yes it has to be in Spanish that’s the whole point, please calm down!”
“I will give you all nightmares if you don’t stop complaining!” The whole class went silent. Finally. “But I can just as easily help you guys out if you just behave and ask nicely. As I said the details will all be discussed on Monday so stop screaming at me, class time is already over, we could all be in our rooms by now if you guys didn’t throw a tantrum”
Your abilities as an outcast were something you genuinely loved about yourself, being able to control others dreams came in handy more than you’d think. You’d use dreams to give extra practice for those who asked (which was mostly the music, choir, theater kids), those who needed extra study time for tests, when you knew your students needed comfort or a safe space, specially since you could allow them to remember their dreams. It being the last class of the day you dismissed them and headed to Larissa’s office.
————————————————————
Once you came in Larissa greeted you. “You seem rather annoyed.. stressed? did something happen, beloved?”
“Just my last class, I assigned oral reports and they are not happy about it, i mean they were basically screaming at me about it, I love them, really, I do but they don’t know how to listen!” You sighed, coming around her desk and wrapping your arms around her behind her chair.
“Who would have thought advanced Spanish students would hate Spanish so much! I know it’s not personal but the way they groan and complain isn’t that encouraging either, just makes me feel like I’m doing everything wrong.”
Larissa’s hands soothed over your arms, taking one of your hands in hers and kissing it. “You’re the cool teacher, they aren’t used to not doing “fun” things in class, they’ll come around٫ love. Is there anything I could help you with?”
You groaned, hiding in her neck. “No, you’re right, I’m sure they’ll be better Monday once I explain.” Larissa nodded.
“30 minutes and we’ll get out of here, alright?” Teachers got out one hour before the principal, leaving you to wait for her everyday. You nodded and went over to one of the armchairs٫ pulling out your phone and deciding to answer emails.
You whined, dramatically putting your head on her desk, she chuckled. “More complains?” “You think they understand what “I’ll explain on Monday” means?”
They were stressing you out even more, and in your experience٫ Stress means nightmares.
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“Love?” Larissa woke up to your squirming she thought you just couldn’t sleep, then she heard the whimpers, from there it somehow got worse so fast. The way your hands gripped your arms, your hair, how you curled into yourself, what broke Larissa out of her trance was a sob that tore through your throat. It was enough to spring her into action as she forced the sleep from her mind.
She was trying to be gentle, you were scared enough, frantic, she didn’t want any sudden movements to hurt her or you. First she tried to grab one arm, trying to shake you awake. “Angel?-“ she gave up on that quickly as she saw the cuts made from your own nails that ran down your arm and how you tore away from her just to claw at your own skin, alright option two. She straddled your legs to stop the kicking, taking your hands pinning them down.
She settled for talking you down as her thumb rubbed over your palms in what she hopped would be a calming notion “you’re okay sweetheart, you’re our room my love, it’s just us.” Your squirming died down but you were still tense, your complains and whimpers never stopped, the way you were gripping her hands was clear sign the squirming stoped merely because she essentially forced it.
“Oh my darling girl.. it’s me, my love it’s Rissa, it’s just a nightmare, my sweet, listen to me.” When you calmed slightly more she decided it was safe to loosen her hold and lean over to turn the lamp on. “It’s time to wake up darling.”
The way you snapped awake made her heart clench. How unsettled you looked, the way you looked around the room and eventually up at her, pupils blown wide panic written all over your face. She smiled at you reassuringly and leaned down kissing your cheek and forehead. “It’s okay, my sweet little love. You’re okay with me, angel.”
She didn’t want to fully surround you, it would be too much while you’re already panicked, but she also couldn’t afford you hurting either of them in that state, so she waited, and spoke softly. “You are in Nevermore, in our room, in our bed.” Larissa deemed it safe enough to let go of your arms, gently cupping your face. “I know, my love that you’re scared, but I’m with you, I’ll protect you for anything and anyone, you are safe, 100% safe, I’ll make sure of that, yeah?” You only nodded.
Larissa gave you a second. “Would you like me to move away?” You shook your head, wanting to cry at the thought, she saw it, and moved slowly, moving to your side and turning you with her, she hugged you tight and purposely slowed her breathing for you to follow, you of course did. She only hugged you tighter when she felt your arms coming shyly around her and you hid into her chest.
“I’m not expecting you to tell me what you just lived, nor am I asking, but if you want to my love, I will listen.” You shook your head again. “You hurt yourself angel, a lot, we have to take care of that later okay? But I’ll take care of you, I’ll keep you safe every second.” You frowned and looked up at her. “How can you be so sure..” you barely mumbled out. “Well because I risked a slap across the face to save you from you.” You giggled. “I’m- very sorry.”
She pinned you down and furrowed her brows. “Are you apologizing for having a nightmare?” She kissed the tip of your nose. “Is that stupid?” A kiss to your cheek this time. “Did you cause the nightmare?” Now on the other side. “No! you know I can’t- ohhhh” she pressed a final kiss against your lips and moved to look at you, making you smile. “Right, so it’s not your fault, which means you don’t have to apologize for that, my beautiful beautiful girl.” You blushed at that, hiding your face in your hands.
“Would you like to try going back to sleep?” She asked as she moved the lay beside you, and you shook your head, curling into her. “Darling, you got here exhausted.. you still are. I’ll wake you if the nightmares start again, and the lamp will stay on.” You didn’t say anything, instead pulled yourself closer to her and closed your eyes, she smiled. “Sweet dreams, angel, you’ll be okay with me, I promise.”
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