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#to tell someone you’re in love with them
fairy-hub · 3 days
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“𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧”
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! first time w toji, virgin!reader, reader is lil insecure about how her coochie looks and her performance, just the tip/fucking you with his tip, HEAVY praise/encouragement & reassurance, light begging, toji take its slow and is soft soft soft for you, forehead kisses, hand holding during sex is so sweet, light making out, overstimulation/hints of mind break, very light size kink, daddy/mama
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! Do you think Toji would be gentle if it was your first time having sex? Just imagine him rubbing his tip against our entrance and being like “relax for me, baby, I’ll take care of you.”
Fey: we can take a moment to appreciate soft toji after some mean toji
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Toji grinds his hard, heavy cock on your soft cunt. The feeling is so surreal and new to you, the warmth of his cock, the softness of his skin with how hard and heavy he is.
Toji’s weight is comforting when he leans over you. Softly kissing your forehead then encouraging you, “‘You can take me lil mama, we’re gonna go slow,” gently grabbing your hand “Squeeze my hand for comfort, how’s this sound, say blue if it gets too much.”
Sitting up grabbing his thick hard cock and lining himself up with your soaking wet cunt. Slowly rubbing his cock between your soft lips. “Your lips are so pretty mama, I love seeing them around my cockhead.” Your cheeks heat up as you look away.
“You’re staring too much! My pussy looks weird! Nnnn!” Your jaw drops when he nudges his thick cock head in. The pleasure is stronger than the acute discomfort which quickly melts as Toji strokes your clit.
Clenching Toji’s cock he croons, “We can't be looking at the same pretty lil’ cunt. She’s so soft, wet and fuckin’ gorgeous, I wanna take my time with her.” Toji keeps still groaning when you clench his fat head.
It feels so wonderful but strange having someone else touching your soft clit while they’re inside of you. When you close your eyes Toji gently squeezes your hand.
“Beautiful mama I need you to look at me.” When you look at him he smiles, “Good girl.” He glides some of his cock in and you jolt, tensing up, your nerves getting the best of you. “
He slowly pulls out leaving half his head inside you. He croons, “Relax for me mama, trust me to take good care of your gorgeous lil’ cunt.” Taking the moment to admire how your little hole is stretching when he pushes the rest of his head in.
“I can't stop watching her take me. Everything about your pussy is beautiful, the color, your shape of your lips n’ how soft you feel around me, fuck lil mama. Tell me you have a gorgeous cunt.” The way he is playing with your clit is making it hard to think.
“Nnngonna cum?! Daddy? How? I already?” Your head is going fuzzy from the intense euphoric high of cumming again.
Toji croons, “Go ahead lil’ mama cum on ya daddy’s cock.” Twisting your hips he glides his cock out.” You’re doing so good.” Stroking your clit faster as your soaking wet cunt spasms around nothing and soaks the bed.
“You can handle it, that’s it, you’re doing so good cumming. Ya can keep going.” Biting your bottom lip as he lines himself back up. He barely nudges his head in. “Say you have a beautiful cunt, if you want more than just the tip.”
Pushing your hips down whilst pleading, “I have a beautiful cunt! Please put it in, I want you to cum too!” Toji doesn't have it in him to pull away. Rolls his hips gliding in half his cock before restraining himself.
He insists, “What’s it? You’ll have to be clearer for me, look me in the eyes when you say it.” His smokey gray blue eyes are too intense, your nerves hit you full force. “Aw are you really getting shy with my cock in ya?”
Admitting to Toji, “No…I’m getting nervous again, nnn!” You feel so full as he fucks you with half his cock. “You’re too hoooot!” He. I like you a little too much, it's making me nervous how I'm doing and what you’re thinking.”
He leaves your sensitive clit alone and pins your thigh by your side. “‘I’m thinking about how I want to flip you over and fuck ya from behind so I can watch your ass bounce while you take me. But backshots might be a bit much for your first time.” Holding your hand above your head, he leans down and gives you a soft kiss.
It feels so good to be underneath him full of his cock while softly making out with him. Wrapping one leg around his waist, digging your nails into his well-sculpted backside.
Moaning into Toji’s soft slow passionate kiss, sliding your fingers into his soft dark hair. Toji keeps his pace slow and steady, fucking you a little deeper, rubbing your sweet spot and wrecking every thought.
It’s hard to be nervous when his cock is deep in your guts. When he pulls away you beg, “I can take your fat cock daddy please! I wanna make you feel good too! Lemme take your cock from the back while you hold my wrists together. I wanna try every position possible with you.” He pulls out and flips you over.
Toji can easily hold your wrists behind your back with one hand. “I can’t tell my lil’ mama no with you begging me like that. But first tell me how sexy your soaking wet cunt is.” Rubbing his cock between your soft lips.
all works
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luveline · 3 days
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more hotch with teacher!reader? maybe she’s trying to take a bunch of things into her classroom one morning and hotch jumps in to help (and flirt with) them :)) i adore you’re writing thank you for sharing sm with us lately!!!
you’re so welcome ily ty for requesting! <3 fem, 1k
Today, you and your class are going to make dioramas with a heavy focus on paper crafting. For the last few days, you’ve helped them make plans on what they want to create, and then you scoured the internet for origami and craft tutorials to suit. The only one you couldn’t find was for poor Jamie’s tractors. You’ll figure it out, you’re sure. 
You’ve been saving cardboard boxes, toilet roll inserts, and egg cartons for months. There’s a total mountain of things to bring in, so you’re here early. You figure if you carry huge armfuls, you can get everything inside in three trips. 
“Oh,” you say, as a cardboard box tumbles to the ground, and somehow doesn’t give you a clearer view, “whoops. I’ll pick that up. Jeez.” 
You step over it and almost slip. 
“Careful,” someone says. 
You jump and send an egg carton skittering across the floor. “Oh, gosh! You scared me!” You twist your head, the cardboard that had been resting on your face falling down into your collar. “Oh, Mr. Hotchner.” 
Of course it’s Mr. Hotchner. Aaron, predictably. 
“Aaron,” he says, leaning down to grab the things you’ve dropped, before he opens his arm toward you. You lean away from your tower, embarrassed but relieved when he takes the bulk of your tall tower from you. 
“Thank you, Aaron. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here so early. Is everything okay?” 
“Let me help you with this.” 
Avoiding the question. You and Aaron carry your cardboard inside to the classroom, where you unlock your door (and you never would’ve been able to do without his rescue). He follows you to the arts and crafts table toward the back of the room, and you deposit your stock. 
“Thank you,” you say when he places his armful down. 
“It’s no problem. Can I help with the rest?” 
“Would you, please?” you ask. “It seemed a lot less before today.” 
You bring the rest back in. He’s the picture of a perfect gentleman and carries more than you each time, which isn’t to say you can’t have carried the same as he did, but it’s nice for once to be the one looked after. As a teacher, you get used to giving. 
He doesn’t make you ask him twice. “I’m here early because I wanted to talk with you if you’re free, before I head into the office.” 
“His Aunt is bringing him today?” you ask about Jack. 
“I didn’t manage to get home in time last night to see him, but I’ll be here at pick up time.” 
You nod, hyper aware that you’d swayed the conversation again. “Sorry, what were you saying?” 
“It’s about Jack. Well, it’s mostly about me. I’d like to ask you for a favour, if you’re willing.” 
“Oh, sure. Of course.” 
“You haven’t heard it yet.” 
You flush under the weight of his knowing smile. “No, I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine. So…” 
“It’s hard sometimes to get Jack to tell me what you’re doing in school. I had no idea he’d be making dioramas today. And I don’t need your lesson plans, I’d never expect that of you, but I was hoping you could summarise the week for me on Fridays? Or whenever you can. I don’t need updates on how Jack is progressing, it could be a couple of words on the topics you’ve chosen, just so I know what he’s doing while I’m away.” 
You’ve never been asked to do it. Parents of kids in the second grade aren’t usually clocked in on what their kids are learning. School is still half fun at this age, your most important job is to make sure they can all read with acceptable fluency. And it’s hard because their parents don’t help, but it’s fine. You love teaching them something so important, and you’re ecstatic to meet someone who’s actually interested. 
You beam. “Yeah, of course I can. I can do that, I don’t mind. Nobody ever wants to know what we’re doing, which is such a shame! I mean, they’re so excited and of course their parents care, but if they have just a little bit of support it makes a huge difference. I can totally send you my lesson plans, Aaron. I’d like to.” You laugh to yourself smugly. “I never get to show them off. They’re extensive. And they take ages.” 
“You want to show them off?” he asks softly. 
His voice is velveteen. 
“Is that awful?” you ask.
“No, it makes sense. You really don’t have to if it’s too much trouble, but I… feel guilty, when I call him and ask how school was, and he can’t remember what happened.” 
“Don’t feel bad about that. The kids can’t remember what I told them ten minutes ago.” 
He isn’t like you, in that he’s very still. He doesn’t move or fidget, which makes his looking at you all the more obvious. “Thank you,” he says. 
“You’re welcome.” 
“Can I pay you back?” 
You catch one of your bracelets and twist it around your wrist. 
Aaron told you without hesitation that he profiles criminals. He can read their expressions, habits, and idiosyncrasies as thoughts and feelings. He can trace movement to the source. You’re positive he wouldn’t keep asking you such leading questions, or insist you call him by his first name every time you see him, if he didn’t already know that you find him attractive. 
“How would you do that?” you ask. 
“Is there anything else you… need help with?” 
A million things, but you’re no idiot. You can read subtlety too. 
“Well, I have a bunch of textbooks on the top shelf in the stockroom you could help me with.” You smile shyly. “It gets hot in there, though.” 
He begins taking off his suit jacket. “That,” he says, his gaze on you with all the tenderness and amusement of someone who’s known you longer, “won’t be a problem.” 
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hoshigray · 18 hours
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This is my first time requesting something but HEAR ME OUT, "Slow Cuddle-fucking with og Sukuna while he is holding (and caressing) Reader (His wife) tightly and praising her (with him having size(difference) and breeding kink) oneshot please please please PLEASESSS😭
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: NAH CUZ I SEE THE VISION, HOLD ON–
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - monster-fucking (he got 2 dicks, y'all) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - spooning dp position - breast fondling + nipple play - breeding kink - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - dacryphilia - pet names ([little]dove, good girl, my wife, woman) - soft! kuna, but not too OOC - mention of drool/spit and tears.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k
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“Stay still, woman…Mmnnn, good girl, nice and easy…”
It’s not a rarity for Sukuna to have his hands on you as you two slept through the night. After all, he is the King of Curses; asking permission to touch his is beneath him. You were made for him to hold – sculpted for his cursed hands to touch – everyone else was far behind or had no standing compared to your demonic husband. And with you both sharing a futon every night, who’s supposed to tell him to keep his hands to himself?
You, his little spouse, knew of this. Marrying the King of Curses was something you never imagined would happen — let alone falling in love with the giant man! You’ve always had dreams of becoming a sweet little partner to someone; for that to be fulfilled by the cursed man who could kill thousands in the blink of an eye is astounding. 
And, of course, being a wife entails all the duties accompanying the package. Especially now, as you two lie together on the floor, nude bodies nestled close on the futon above the tatami floor, and your naked figure trembling from the insertion of one of Sukuna’s paired cock. And your heart drops at the second one brushing up against the crevice of your ass when he pushes the one inside your throbbing, velvety channel. 
“Mmmph…! Sukuna, no,” you whined, your butt inching away from the second member. “I can’t handle both—“
“Don’t lie; you’ve done it before and did it well,” a hand brings your waist to him. “Or maybe I should just have one of the concubines take care of me, seeing as though my own wife is neglecting their duties.” 
He wouldn’t do that; Sukuna’s interest in his insignificant mistresses had long been diminished once he took you up as his bride, practically collecting dust as he hadn’t visited them since you shared a bed with him. Now, he uses them as tools to probe you. And he has to hold back the mischievous snicker when your eyes widen with anxiousness, wrapping your arms around his neck in desperation.
“N–No, please!” You pleaded; it was the only sufficient approach. “I’ll be good to you, I promise!”
The four-eyed curse scoffs. “Then do what you’re supposed to,” Each crimson orb takes in information about your bashful expression, “And attend to your husband like a wife should.”
Further complaints cease at his command, so you quiet down and arch your behind to him submissively. Sukuna takes your initiation with his hungry bottom hand on your ass, squeezing the flesh as you guide his other dick to your lubed asshole. With a hum, he pushes himself and forces you to take his cocks with your bottom, needing a few seconds to breathe when your holes reach the base of his members.
“Good girl,” he says to your ear to make you shudder, and he lifts your leg with the hand that finished groping your asscheek. “Obeying me so well like always…”
He begins to move without a signal, slowly pulling himself in and out of your warm wetness that coats his length with your slick. You can’t help but grip the girth limbs that massage your insides, involuntarily throbbing on them with shaky breaths.  
“Mmmaah, ohhhmyG—Mmm!” Speech isn’t easy, even with his upper left hand cupping your cheeks. And your brows furrow as the upper right sneaks to grope a breast. “Faaahh, Suk..una, I’m too full already…”
“Mmm? Is that so?” Sukuna asks with a patronizing tone, licking the helix of your ear to hear you gasp. “But we’ve barely started yet, my wife. Don’t bore me before I can enjoy you yet.” 
His hips go at a gradual cadence that has you keening a mess, the sensation of the veins of his cocks felt by the walls of your holes. You howl silently, not wanting to make too much noise.
But that doesn’t fly with your husband, speaking to your ear with that hoarse voice. Almost has you melting as he squishes with your cheeks, “Let it out, princess,” he commands. “I want to hear that voice; don’t you dare hide that from me.”
Fuck, the way you felt on his dicks was so fucking good, having the cursed behemoth burrow his face into the cubby of your neck. Slow kisses on your skin segway to sucks that should mark for later. He could never get enough of how small you were up against him. His giant palm swallowed your tit, your ass bouncing with every thrust, and how damn tight you were as you accommodated the two members making your entrances busy. 
Goddamn it, he bites his lip, dialing up the speed of his ruts a bit. Scratching your inner walls has you squeaking louder, unable to stop yourself when he grinds his hips after a sudden grim pound. So warm and snug for him as if you were meant for him. He knew you were meant for him — taking his huge, fat shafts with no objections, just arching your back further so the sensation could be more pleasurable like the loyal, little pet you are. “Hmngh…! Yeah, just like that, little dove; keep clenching around me like that…”
Restraint was gone long ago, letting your voice and shrieks fly out and fill the quiet bedroom. The sound of his skin shaking against your ass, the heat of your cheeks making it hard to think, and the shivers crawling your spine with every graze to your sweet spots. Everything feels like a haze, your brain too clouded to think outside this moment. 
And then you sense the hand on your breast let go, slithering down to your unattended clitoris, which has your eyes shoot wide as your demon husband presses down. “—Khhff! Nooo, ‘Kunaa, you mustn’t…!”  
He lifts a brow with a grin; you dare question him? “And why shouldn’t I?” He pinches the delicate bud, resulting in a scream sneaking past your lips. “Hmm? Plead for yourself.”
“Becau—Ahhh! Mmmm, I’ll cum. I’m gonna cumm…”
“Then don’t,” Sukuna doesn’t remove his digits playing with your clit, and the hand on your chin pulls your face to look at him. “Cum without my permission, and I’ll make sure to not be so kind next time...” His words carry a warning filling your bones with apprehension, yet his soft lips greet yours and he hums into your mouth. The kiss serves as a distraction from his thick digits gently swiping on the pearl.
The rhythm of his hips, however, increases in speed and prompts more moans to be taken by Sukuna. Drool trickles down your lips, same with tears that welled up earlier from the insertion of his girth inside your ass. Your eyes roll at the jab to your silky walls, breaking the sweet yet passionate kiss to cry out as your husband’s fat balls smack your ass. 
“—Ooooo, fuuuck, I can’t,” your eyelids shield your vision, using the rest of your senses to indulge in this euphoric pleasure. “‘Kuna, I’m so close, so—Ooohh!”
“Me too…Ghhh! Shit, me too…” Sukuna presses his hot face to yours when you throw it back, licking the tears off your sweaty skin. You looked so stunning like this, all disheveled and immodest because of him. “Gonna take my load, huh?” He licks the sweat off your shoulder and bites when you don’t respond. “Answer me, Y/n.”
“—Ahhh, yes!”
That’s not enough. “I said,” he pinches your clit again as he gives slow yet rough ruts to your holes. And he can tell by your twitching that you’re doing everything in our power not to come. “Answer me.”
Holy shit, this was borderline torture. “Mmmph! OhhhLord, ‘Kunaaa, I want you to fill me up. Pleasee, pleasepleaseee, I wanna be full; wanna be all ‘round and fat with your child…!”
“Keh, dumb pet; who said I wanted a brat, huh?” He scoffs, yet you can hear the groan as he licks and sucks on your neck while squishing your hot, tear-stricken cheeks. “Fine then; go on and cum with me. So damn needy for my seed…”
Sukuna brings your chin for another steamy kiss, his lower left hand holding yours as his pelvis goes at an irregular pace. Your muffled shrills are taken by feisty lips, teeth clashing with his fangs before sucking on his tongue, and the upper left hand releases your chin to caress your chest once more, tweezing the nipple along with swipes to your clit.
Release gradually creeps up your shaky frame, crying to his mouth when your chasm and anus pucker around the lengths that graze your walls with the tips. Sukuna is not too far behind you, pumping his load into you with a few harsh plunges, making your contracting cunt and rear full of his hot and thick semen. The lower right hand propping your leg up leaves soft kneads on your inner thigh, hoisting it up further so his shafts are deep enough until his pulsing balls meet your ass.
You withdrew from his lips to breathe, your figure quivering through the aftershocks, and your slit and asshole still flutter around his girths. And you mewl when he kisses your cheek and temple.
“Mmm, that’s my princess,” he purrs while placing your leg down to massage your waist. “Such a good dove…”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 3 days
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[I almost killed your boss with my grilled cheese sandwich]- Mafia!TF141*F!Reader
Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)
Mafia!TF141*F!Reader
Chapter 1
After the unexpected encounter with Soap and Ghost, your shop finally owns the vibes of peace.
The customers become so ‘normal’, almost feels like you aren’t in the same area as before – if you ignore the blood on their shirts or recall the memory of seeing them punching someone across the street. You assume the men must tell them to behave in your shop, but you must say the minions become a bit overreacting. They call you ma'am, chat as quietly as possible, and one of them even apologizes when he accidentally touches your finger as if you will chop off his pinky. You start doubting if they view you as a secret henchman of 141.
It’s morning now, the shop usually has more people at this time, but you haven’t had a single customer since you opened it 30 minutes ago, they just vanished without any hint, hence you start testing out new recipes for your bread.
Lilting the song that’s fully out of tune, you slice the bread you just baked into pieces, and throw one into your mouth. Perfectly crunchy outside, fluffy like clouds inside. Oh my, you’re such a genius.
You’re totally unaware of your visitor until he stirs the air with a cough and his voice.
“Pardon me?” He calls you again, but you’re left in a trance when you land your eyes on him.
Damn, he looks just like your imagination of the man in the Dilf next door fic you just read yesterday on co5. Your eyes travel from his well-trim beard, south to his belted waist. Why does a man with a toned body – which his khaki coat can’t even hide –  have such a tiny waist? Your mouth's agape at the sight as you’re about to respond.
“mmsadjsmm” The man raises his eyebrow in confusion, and you hear your voice not forming a proper sentence too. Ah, you forgot the bread’s still stuffed in your mouth.
“ehemm, Sorry Sir, I mean what would you like to have?” Quickly swallow the bread and try to pretend you didn’t just dumbfounded in front of him, you speak again.
“English breakfast, please.” He croons with an infatuating smile as he saunters to take a seat. 
His voice is quite soothing, you admit in your mind as you start brewing said man’s tea, just like you presumed the Dilf in the fic… okay, you really should clear those nasty brainrots during work.
The tea is nicely served in the tea cup and brought to the man shortly after.
You can’t help the smile crawling onto your face when you see him grin at you after a sip. You love watching your customer enjoy your tea, and he obviously relaxes with it have you bask in your achievements.
“Don’t finish your breakfast?”
“Just trying a new recipe. I want to add it to my menu.” you reply with a shake of your head, and after a brief halt, you add a question “ Have you eaten breakfast yet, Sir”
“Call me John, love.” The man – John sets his cup on the table before continuing “And no, I haven’t”
“Then… would you like to have a grilled cheese sandwich? I can’t finish the bread myself, it would be great if someone could help me with it... Of course, it isn’t a must!" You hurriedly complement when John widens his eyes slightly at your suggestion, but he meets your eyes with interest within.
”I would love to.”
You beam up as you get the affirmation, and walk behind your counter again.
Slices of bread are already prepared. The pro tip for a delicious grilled cheese sandwich is giving the bread some nice seasoning first, so you pick up your black pepper jar before inquiring about John’s preference.
“How much pepper would you like, John?”
“Would be great if it’s more.”
“Alright.”
You turn back to season the bread, but when you pick up the pepper jar and about to shake it, a question slips into your brain making you pause.
How much is “more”?
The man doesn't have time to sit here and wait for you to contemplate the philosophy of seasoning, so after biting your bottom lip and thinking for 30 seconds, you shake the jar. More is better, you recall what John told you as your hand keeps moving.
You shake it 10 times, since more is better.
Apart from the bread, you hold full confidence in your grilled cheese sandwich. Placing generous amounts of cheese in between, the coveted smell flooded your little shop as you plate the well-toasted sandwich.
“It surely smells great.” John praises before diving in.
You hang a big expecting grin until John takes a bite and starts coughing like you will put him into the ER with a sandwich.
“It’s– it’s okay…love…” He tries to comfort you when you apologize abundantly and rush back to your counter to fill him a cup of water. Holy, isn’t more pepper better? Now you're going to send the man to heaven with a grilled cheese sandwich.
“Here’s water!” You go back to John as fast as you can with the cold water in your hand, you’re busy checking out John, who stops coughing madly but cheeks pink with the spices, and you don’t see the leg of the chair sticking out of its usual place.
A pair of arms catch you from slamming onto the floor, but the cup isn’t that lucky as it flies with Newton’s help and clatters on the floor.
“Shit! I’m so sorry!” You stabilize yourself in John’s support. But wow,  now the man not only just recovered from a fatal attack to his throat, but also has a wet spot spreading along the chest part of his shirt.
“No worries, love. It’s just a shirt.”
Even though John attempts to calm you, you still can’t help the sheepishness creep to your cheeks and stain it with the same pink as John’s, or stop thinking about if the balance in your bank account is able to buy the man a new shirt. You remember you wanted to get some cash out of the cashpoint but it shoved an ‘insufficient funds :(‘ into your face.
You really don’t want any customers to come in right now, even if it means your little tea shop will close down because you only have one from the start of today, but fate always gifts you things you crave when you don’t need them.
“Sorry boss, I’m late.”
You look at the tan-skinned man standing like a model just escaped from his manager, staring at you shoving a towel on John’s chest and both of your cheeks smeared with suspicious red.
“What happened?”
I almost murdered your boss with my grilled cheese sandwich. Apparently, you can’t answer with this, so you face John for help.
and he’s looking at you too, with a sly smirk awaiting your explanation.
You wonder if you can just make two sandwiches to shut these men up, with one more for yourself to end this predicament now.
a/n: ty for reading :D have a nice day/night!
No John Price is harmed in this chapter.
tag list :D - @blackhawkfanatic @nexthyperfix @danielle143
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chiara-hotel · 3 days
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𝒟𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓂
Characters: Aventurine, Acheron & Boothill
Part 1 Here: (w/ Blade, Dan Heng, Robin & Jingliu)
Warnings: Possibly penacony spoilers
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- Aventurine as your boyfriend is a big treat
- Hes got a lot of money and loves spending it on you
- Every single week he spoils you with a shopping trip, getting all of your favourite items
- Even if you say its okay and he doesn’t need to but it he still does
- His specifically is gift giving
- Although he also loves cuddling and just holding you in general
- Whenever you’re in public together he always has his arm around your waist or around your shoulder
- Visits to the casino together <33
- Considers you his lucky charm whenever he goes with you
- Always kisses his chips to give them to you after hes done using them
- Aventurine also helps you out whenever you play against someone too, you both also occasionally gamble against eachother (if he wins though you owe him 10 kisses)
- Due to his status as a member of the IPC, often times he also must go on long missions
- If he can he always takes you with him, even if its just staying at a hotel for the night with you
- If he can’t he sends you handwritten letters with some gifts he gave you
- You also have met a few members of the IPC (etc.) including Dr Ratio and Topaz (Not Jade or Diamond though… He keeps you away from them)
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- As a frequent traveller, you often travel along with her swapping locations every few weeks
- Acheron is a quiet lover, she loves listening to you ramble about things you enjoy as she just listens
- She forgets things often so you might need to repeat some things
- Even with her memory she always remembers you and your intrests, favourite flowers, chocolate, color, anything special relating to you
- Which yes shes a gift lover, gets you flowers whenever you meet up for a date
- Always protects you from danger, her sword is ready to fight off against any enemies that trouble you
- Shes also the type of person if you get extremely injured - she’ll ask for the name. As for what happens to them she’ll never tell you
- Teaches you a bit of self-defence after that just in case
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- Boothill is a traveller, constantly moving locations
- He isn’t much of a sightseer but hes willing to stay an extra day if theres somewhere you really want to go
- On that note you follow him to whatever weird world he goes to next! Most of the time you are out of danger and you await in the hotel room while he kills things
- Unless you’re also strong and can hold up a fight then he invites you on the regular and you both challenge eachother to see who can kill the most enemies
- Enjoys duels too and you guys test your strength against eachother
- Besides its good practice for him if you’re as strong as him
- If you’re weaker its best for your sake and also will train you basic combat & self defence techniques
- Treasures you, always holding you even if he can’t feel it
- Loves putting his face by your neck/on your shoulder to feel you
- Boothill adores when you kiss all over his face, he says its even better if you have lipstick on to put all over him
- Steal his hat, he’ll enjoy it
- Of course when he can’t find it he’ll panic until he realizes that you stole it and immediately comments about how hot you are with his hat
- Or if you steal any of his clothing, really
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Author Comment: I hope you enjoyed these headcannons! I plan on getting a lot of drafts done within the next few weeks hopefully!
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melrodrigo · 2 days
Text
music nerds
Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader
Summary: Jenna stumbles upon a tiny vinyl shop, and thinks the employee is mighty cute.
A/n: here it is nerds, my first jenna fic. Was in a silly goofy mood, I miss my babygirl so.
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It started at the vinyl shop. You, rearranging the different records into the correct sections, stood humming absentmindedly to the tune of the song playing.
“How’s my favorite employee of the month doing?” Your coworker (and best friend) Harry pipes up, leaning on the shelves opposite you.
“You can stop calling me that, we both know the only reason I got crowned this month was because you missed six days and I had to cover for your ass.” You mumble, slightly annoyed. It had been a long day, with customers shuffling in and out without ever buying anything. It didn’t help that the only customers Harry attended to were girls he thought were cute.
He nudges you a little, trying to prompt you away from rearranging the vinyls.
When you don’t answer, he huffs a little and then makes his way to the back—no doubt about to take a nap—where he’ll stay until closing time.
You sigh softly, shaking your head.
Even though you loved Harry to shreds, you hated being his coworker. He could be trusted with nothing.
You move over to the next section, swaying a little to the tune, losing yourself in the music.
You’re aware of the jingle of the bell that indicates someone has entered as you shuffle through the records.
They could take care of themselves for just a few minutes, you reckon.
Soft footsteps sound from behind you, and the sound of someone putting a stop to the music makes you frown. Then, there’s a tiny scratching noise before the melody of I am Controlled By Your Love by Helene Smith sounds through the tiny store.
You can’t help the tiny smile that envelops your face; and the surprise that echos through your mind. You’d just found out about this song, while scrolling through a playlist someone had made for your celebrity crush, Jenna Ortega.
Apparently she liked the song, if you remembered correctly from watching one of her interviews passingly.
“Great choice.” You tell whoever put it on, still not turning to face them.
“Thanks, I’m surprised this place has it. I’ve been looking for weeks.” A girl answers, and it sounds vaguely familiar.
“Well, we sure do. One of the best vinyl stores in the country if I do say so myself.” You smile, finally finishing tampering with the discs and turn to your customer.
It takes everything in you to not gasp out loud—standing in front of you was the Jenna Ortega.
You feel your hands grip the shelves just a little tighter, and you prayed to god that Jenna didn’t see the blush very quickly climbing up your neck.
“One of the best, huh?” She smiles, and you swear you could feel your heart physically melt.
She looks, if not better, exactly like in the pictures. It’s surreal, this person you see almost everyday on your phone, standing in front of you.
She’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater and some baggy jeans. There are sunglasses blocking her eyes, maybe to try to avert attention, but you could tell in an instant who she was.
You think she knows too, by the way she’s smirking a little.
“Yeah, and there are a ton of artists just like the one you just put on, at the back corner over there.” You point with shaky fingers, cursing yourself for looking so stupid.
She nods and disappears further into the store, and you breathe out in relief.
Holy shit! Jenna Ortega!
You place a hand over your heart, reminding yourself to be normal and check if you’re still breathing.
“Uh-I’m sorry. I couldn’t find it. Where did you say?” She pops her head out from one of the shelves, cocking her head to the side.
You grab your bearings, determined to not make a fool of yourself.
You were an employee. Just an employee helping out a confused customer.
“It’s hard to find, believe me I know.” You smile reassuringly, sauntering over to where she was standing.
“Here, just follow me.” You say, weaving through the maze that was this tiny vinyl store.
She bumps into you a few times, saying a soft sorry as she does. You placate her worries with soft it’s okays everytime she does.
“Ahah! Right here. My pride and joy.” You beam, getting used to having her so close and relaxing.
“What would you recommend?” She muses, flicking through the artists.
“Well, I’m a Beatles girl myself,” You tell her, looking over the records, “but I am a sucker for The Mamas & The Papas.”
She raises an eyebrow at you, and you hold your hands up in defeat.
“I know, I know! I’m a mainstream whore.” You say before you can stop yourself, something definitely inappropriate to say to a customer.
Jenna lets out a little giggle, fast like she can’t help herself.
You take the opportunity to keep talking, since she seems interested in the music over here.
“But, there is another artist somewhere here, I think you’ll like.” You wink, then mentally face palm yourself.
You turn back to the records in order to hide your expression, finally finding the guy you were looking for.
“Frank Zappa.” You explain as you hand it over to her. “An instrumental.”
She looks at it thoughtfully, inspecting the album art; then looks up at you and smiles. Her brown eyes make you want to cry and scream, but you keep your composure.
“You have nice eyes.” She murmurs, eyes flickering over your face. Then, just as fast, she turns away and walks back the way you came.
“What just happened.” You breathe once she’s out of earshot, carefully walking back to the cashier.
She’s waiting, texting someone on her phone.
When you slide up behind the counter, all flirty smiles, she tilts her head.
“Took you long enough.” She teases, scrunching her nose in embarrassment unconsciously.
You stutter endlessly, trying and failing to come up with an excuse. It all comes out in one jumbled poor excuse of a sentence that you try to cover up with a cough.
You slide her things over and scan them, not daring to look at her probably smug face.
“That’s all.” You say, somewhat bashfully, stealing a glance back at her.
Her eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place, but something you can certainly feel. Warmth envelops you whole, your knees turning into jelly.
You put her stuff into a plastic bag, hand them over, and bite back the hitch of breath when your hand grazes hers.
She bites her lip thoughtfully, shifting on her feet. The bag is in her hands now, she’s free to leave.
But still, she stands there, looking like she’s thinking very hard about something.
You try and prompt her out of her thoughts, murmur a quiet, “Anything else?” and watches as she takes out her phone and pushes it to your side of the desk.
“Yeah. Your number.” She squeaks, blushing a faint pink. She clears her throat and says it again, in a tone deeper than before.
It takes absolutely everything in you to keep your mouth shut. It desperately desperately wants to drop, not quite computing what is really happening.
You take it before she can change her mind, quickly jamming in your number and taking a quick photo for the profile.
She beams as you hand it back to her, not bothering to stop the cheeky satisfied smile that wants to take over her lips.
“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” She asks, and you nod adamantly, forgetting all pretense of chill.
“Right. Uh huh. Super!” You call out as she makes her way out the door, shaking her head at your dorkiness.
“Holy shit!” You yell this time, breathing out a huge sigh of relief you didn’t even know you were holding.
You’re rooted to the spot, afraid that if you move you’ll wake up and this’ll all be a dream.
“Wha-What happened?” Harry comes tumbling out the back door, plastic baseball bat in hand.
You lock eyes with him and let yourself fall down into the nearest chair, all wild eyes.
“I just got Jenna Ortega’s number!” You tell him, letting your hands run through your hair, happy and stressed.
His eyes narrow, then he shoots you a lopsided smirk.
“Sure you did.” He says, letting the baseball bat fall beside him, guard down.
“No Harry, she really came in here! And asked me for my number!” You yell, exasperated.
You can tell he doesn’t really believe you, but all it takes is one good look at your face, all white and red at the same time, and he’s widening his eyes comically wide.
“No fucking way.” He gushes, sliding over to sit beside you. He practically preens over you, all questioning eyes.
“Well what did you do?” He pushes, waiting for you to elaborate.
You tell him the whole story, slightly reveling in his reactions. He never fails to make you laugh at his comments.
“So…what now?” Harry asks after a minute, raising his eyebrows.
You sigh. “I don’t know, I guess I’m gonna have to wait for her to call me. Who knows how long that’s gonna take.”
“Well, you better be ready for her when she does. Oh my god we so need to do a makeover.” He rambles, turning on his phone to look at hairdressers nearby. You lean back into your chair, overwhelmed.
For now, you’re worry-less. Jenna Ortega just asked for your number, and you think you couldn’t be luckier. The only thing to do now was wait, and so you do.
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rockingbytheseaside · 21 hours
Text
✦ How you have contrasting personalities but they drop everything for you anyway
Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche (separate) 
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They say love can change anyone, but you have yet to agree with this statement. You never wanted anyone to alter themselves for you, especially if that someone is your beloved. Instead, you always believed that people should stay true to themselves while maintaining mutual love and adoration for each other. And that's how you and your beloved were - contrasting in looks, attitudes, and habits. Yet it made your beloved cherish you all the more, even if it caused unsuspecting passers to raise eyebrows in shock… Maybe it's because your beloved is actually a dreaded Fatui Harbinger, and people didn't expect him to be head over heels whenever you’re in the same room. But what can you say? He always was a softie for you. 
✧ Pierro doesn’t attend public gatherings. Period. Ask any of the high-rank Harbingers and they would tell you how lucky it would be if he were even present for a Harbinger’s inauguration, like when Arlecchino was declared 4th or when Tartaglia received his Delusion. Nevertheless, it is clear that The Jester does not squander his time with social events or benign pleasantries; he’s present only on important occasions.
If you can define what’s important in his book, that is.
An example being was a certain Fatui party. It is not uncommon for the Regrator to organize lavish evenings, especially in recognition if a Harbinger obtained a gnosis, or if another significant mission was masterfully accomplished. The grander was the task, the bigger the event would be. Of course, Pierro never attends those either. 
During one of those organized events - you, of all people, decided to come. Dressed in your finest, glittering lotus flower silk and white silver adorned your figure while you timidly stood amongst the high nobles of Snezhnaya. Your presence was not an unwelcome sight, but you did not strive to bring attention to you either. Expensive parties with Fatui diplomats and Snezhnayan aristocrats were not your usual cup of tea.
Your presence did not bring awning gasps, but Pierro’s did. 
Unannounced, the Director arrived at this sudden party, bringing hushed murmurs amongst the crowds of subordinates and colleagues. Likewise, he wore his most exquisite suit, a mantle-like cape flowing elegantly over his broad shoulders. Before guests and attendees could greet his arrival, The Jester marched straight ahead, not bothering to gaze at whoever tried to initiate conversation. 
No, the man’s attention was focused straight at you, as he passed through everyone and swiftly approached you. With an outstretched hand, a knowing gaze was cast upon you, as he spoke:
“If I may,” - he brought the back of your hand closer to his lips “Would you honor me with a dance?” 
You obliged. Now everyone in the gala was gaping at you two with grandiloquent murmurs. 
“My most cherished, why did you not warn me you’d attend the ball?” - The Jester whispered to your ear, his gloved hand intertwined with yours as the two of you waltzed elegantly. 
“Well, I just thought it would be futile to bother you. You usually hate such occasions.” - you muttered back, overwhelmed at the prospect of meeting his icy gaze; a gaze that only looked at you in tender love and yearning.   
“Then may I inquire on why you decided to attend this one? You avoid them as well.” 
“Okay, just please don’t laugh,” - you whispered. As Pierro kept a hand on your waist, he danced with you across the ballroom, using his broad form to shield you from the unwelcoming gazes of the guests. “You gifted me this fancy attire that I kept hiding in my closet for many months… I simply didn’t have a reason to wear it. So I forced myself to go out just so I could have the excuse of wearing something nice. U-um, that’s it.”  
“And that’s it, love?” 
“...Yeah,” - you nodded defeatedly “Also because I didn’t want to busy you from work.” 
“Oh, my most beloved.” - The Director emitted a hushed chuckle as you two conversed and danced, making sure his words were heard only by you. “I can make all your attires gala-worthy if you so desire. You do not need to be coy, ask and I shall accompany you on any grand occasion." 
Thus, the jester may not attend social events, as he only frequents important ones - the ones you're in, that is. As he whisked you away with a dance and a dip, he kept his hand delicate around you to escape the company of noisy guests who wished to bother you two. But what would be a ball with his lips gently grazing your cheeks at the end of each dance, telling you: 
“Besides, I cannot allow other attendees to assume you are available, now can I? Not while you look so stunning tonight.” 
✧ When Il Capitano was first spotted with you during workout practice, people didn’t even fathom you were his beloved, the only person equal to the Captain. The two of you were simply so…  opposite. The Harbinger was big and imposing, while you were smaller and approachable; which isn’t even a fair comparison, because Capitano just towers over anyone. Everyone looks small next to him! 
Nevertheless, when Capitano had his usual daily practicum along with his rumored significant other, some Fatui soldiers tried to sneak glimpses. Yet what a jarring spectacle it was to see the immovable, assertive Harbinger dismiss his commanding tone in favor of being patient and attentive. 
“My dear, you’ve already run a set of laps and tried to outbeat me during pushup exercises. You are putting too much strain on your ankles after your previous training. We should-” 
“No, we can still go for another round! Fight me!” 
“But, my love-” 
“Fight me!!!”    
Anyway, the fight abruptly subsided. Not because you lost, but because Capitano swiftly lifted you into his arms the instant you launched yourself onto him, consequently refusing to put you down. Therefore, you find yourself being carried by your partner's muscled arms while your feet dangle.
“Aw man, not fair…” - you mumbled, settling to rest on Capitano's forearms. “It's not even a duel if you're just lifting me like a toddler. Set me down, Cappy!” 
“It’s an effective tactic, one that easily neutralizes a hotheaded opponent like yourself.” - Capitano explained calmly. In reality, his body moved with pride as he held onto you securely, as if you were his prized reward for today's training. 
The captain set you down, his armored hands trailing down to your leg, sending a tingling graze onto your skin. And indeed, his punctilious gaze spotted how you tried to hide a limp when exercising. 
“You sprained your ankle,” - Capitano stated.
“Listen, it's not a big deal. Just a strain, I had worse happen.” 
You tried to defend yourself, but The Harbinger already expected your excuses. The man knew better than to argue with you, and instead settled on removing your footwear and gently checking on your injury.
“This is no condition to continue training, my dear. If I let you continue, you'd stubbornly reach Celestia with bloodied knuckles and broken limbs.”
“Yeah! And you bet I'd win!’” - you retorted brightly. At the sight of your confident smile, Capitano chuckled deeply, his pitch-black helmet pressing into your forehead with tender motion.
“I am certain you will, my love. You'll drag The Heavenly Principles by the ear, and have them weeping by your gaze alone. But now, we should get you to rest and apply some ice to your ankle. Shall I carry you?”
You sighed deeply, having no option but to let your beloved's experienced hands help you with your soreness. “Oh well… fine.”
Capitano's training could wait. There was a more crucial matter at hand, literally. With his massive yet calm form carrying you away, your gaze remained fierce but forbearing. 
If some Fatui soldiers witnessed today's event, they'd have to conceal their inconspicuous glances and smiles. After all, the sight of Il Capitano being the big, loving teddy-bear, while you being a menacing gremlin was undoubtedly shock-inducing.  
Nonetheless, who else is worthy of being carried by the 1st Fatui Harbinger and pampered by him? Only you, of course.
✧ Il Dottore is a destructive, stern man. Hunched over the examination table, his gloved hands were tainted in blood while his jaw clenched in aggravation. His hours of working in the lab easily make him irritated, and this irritation further increases whenever certain scientific experiments do not bear fruit. A tense air of suspension was now lingering in his lab; a sign of an upcoming violent outburst.
“Lord Harbinger…” - one of Dottore's lab assistants began, trying to muster the courage to speak without shaking. “This experiment requires another round of testing, w-we might need to start over,”
The Doctor remained still, but the dangerous clutch of the scalpel in his hand didn't go unnoticed. “Perhaps I did not make myself clear?” 
He straightened his shoulders, his masked expression gleaming with malice and murderous intent with each syllable hissed.
“I have given you one simple task. Bring me the results. If this experiment is not completed by tomorrow at the earliest, I will have to remind you how brittle, and puny your useless bones can be-”
Suddenly, the lab door slams open. From the heavy metal doorway, a hasty but familiar person quietly saunters in, unknowingly saving the poor soul that was about to be Dottore's next target. Of course, the person in question is - you. 
“Dottore?” A small murmur escaped you. You stepped closer to Dottore and tugged at his sleeve. “I’m sorry, I can't sleep…” 
An abrupt silence settled in the lab. 
The unnerving tension of the lab was diverted as if a switch was flipped in Dottore's brain. The man swiftly set his scalpel aside, discarded his bloody gloves, and turned into a softer tone when talking to you. 
“Hm, is it so late already? I apologize dear, time must've slipped past me. Do you want me to brew us some tea and join you in bed?”
“Yes, please… Chamomile. if you're not busy, of course.” - you nodded, a tender smile settling on your face.
The sight was fascinating. The eccentric, mad scientist was instantly replaced by a doting partner, who would lower himself to kneel before you and put his hands on your shoulders as if all his lab work and blood-stained messes were already forgotten. Dottore's assistants were indeed quite baffled when you entered the lab. But what was more confusing is that the sudden change of attitude was so drastic, that they all froze in silence and subordination. The poor, unfortunate underlings; one minute dealing with their Lord Harbinger's harsh demeanor, and the other witnessing him hugging you and gazing at you like a lovesick puppy. 
“Perhaps it’s time to wind down for today. I was about to finish for today, anyway. I'll make your tea as you like it and accompany you in bed, dearest.” - Dottore's hand gently rested on your back, as he leisurely ushered you to leave with him. 
“And as for the experiments,” - just before the Harbinger could leave with you in his arms, he sent an ominous glance towards his assistants, one that even through a mask portrayed lethal resolve - “deal with it.”  
Oh well. Someone is staying overtime in the lab. That's how The Doctor was with his work - cruel and unattached. However, unbeknownst to people, when he's back with you in bed, that man is clinging to you throughout the night, groaning about his research while burying his head against your chest. His face takes refuge against the warmth of your body, arms encircling you in a needy embrace around your torso. 
Sometimes, he just needs a good squeeze from you when you cuddle him, that's all.  
✧ A day cannot be concluded if there wasn’t a single instance where Scaramouche’s grumbles weren’t accompanied by your bright grins. Scaramouche has a reputation for his sour disposition whenever he is discontented, that much is known. What isn't known is that the only person who tolerates his cynicism is someone as bright and cheerful as you. Like two sides of the same coin.  
“Hmph, Pathetic. Just because some flowers are blooming doesn’t mean it requires a whole festival to be commemorated for.”  
“Oh, come on, Scara. You accompany me to every Hanami event.” - you smiled back in response to the Harbinger’s scoffs, but the 6th crossed his arms. 
“They are no different each year. Same cherry blossoms, same food stalls you drool over.” 
“But Scara…! The Dango!” 
That’s how the two of you wind up in a narrow cobble street, protected under the soft shadows of cherry blossom, while cascading pink petals gently fall around you. Well, that is how you wind up here, while Scaramouche was naturally dragged by you. Arms linked with one another, the Puppeteer kept his iconic look of displeasure, a huge contrast to your joyous one. One would assume The Harbinger could easily flee your torment and make you scram, but on the contrary: 
He is the one who makes sure your hand is intertwined with his, says “To keep you from running away like a child in a crowd”. 
He is the one running his thumb over your skin, his hand squeezes yours, and says “Don’t get too excited over the food stalls.”      
He is the one rushing with you to find a good secluded spot, away from the crowd, while his hand pulls you closer by the waist, and says “It’s too loud. Here, stay closer.” 
And of course, he is the one buying your favorite Hanami Dango and says “You asked for it so you better enjoy it. And make sure to chew it properly - dango is sticky.” 
For someone who underlines his disapproval vocally, he sure pampers you with no objection about your interests. You’d muse and tease, saying that it was his way of enjoying flower viewing without saying it. However, before you could utter the words, a strong gust of spring wind blew past the street, sending a plethora of flower petals blowing into everyone’s faces. You shielded your eyes, whereas Scaramouche gently tugged at his ichimegasa hat, pulling you closer to further shield you. 
“See? I told you this yearly custom is a nuance.” - he lamented, but his words came out more as a murmur than a groan, perhaps because he held you directly in his proximity. Your faces were closer, and the veil of his hat served as concealment from any public eyes. 
You’d smile. He sure complained a lot, and Scaramouche didn’t like sweet deserts like you did. But whenever the opportunity arose, he’d make sure he had you under the veil of his hat, pressed flush by the hip to him. And if he was lucky, he might taste the sweetness of Dango through your lips instead.  
Listen, I'm a sucker for fluff, okay?
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ekingston · 15 hours
Note
A chef!AU, maybe? In any case, a story in which Kara and Lena meet through one of them preparing/serving/etc food for the other and build their relationship based on that.
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(also on ao3.)
“I’m telling you, Alex. It’s her.”
At three pm on a Tuesday their restaurant is characteristically dead, save for the one lone customer Kara is spying on from behind the kitchen doors. The woman is perched, a little perilously, on a barstool at the counter. It’s the one that’s closest to their register, the one with the wobbly leg that Alex keeps telling Kara to fix. One of her red-soled heels is dangling from an impatiently bouncing left foot.
“This is the fourth time this week she’s come in here,” Kara says. “You don’t think that’s just a little bit suspicious?”
Alex shrugs, fully committed to her task of mincing onions. “Maybe she’s just a big fan of Italian food.”
“No way,” Kara says. “No woman who looks like that would put something in her mouth that wasn’t clearly marked gluten-free and vegan. Give me your phone.”
Alex rolls her eyes dramatically as she elbows it over. “Tell me again how you’re totally over Siobhan.”
“Oral sex isn’t a moral issue!” Kara takes a decisive breath while she unlocks her sister’s phone with practiced ease. “Whatever. Water under the bridge.”
“Uh-huh.”
“A love for pasta also doesn't explain why I heard this woman answer a call yesterday with a different name than the one that’s on her credit card,” Kara points out, before snapping a quick picture through the porthole window.
“Okay, now you’re being creepy,” Alex says.
“Shut up,” Kara tells her. “I’m texting Winn.”
Kara eyes the woman at the counter while she waits for his reply. The subject of her suspicion—Lena, she’d called herself on the phone; Tess Mercer, it had said on her mastercard—twists a soft-looking lock of dark hair around her finger as she studies their menu. The way the sunlight sets it ablaze almost makes Kara take a second picture, purely for its artistic merit.
Alex dabs at her onion-induced tears with the cuff of her sleeve. “Let it go, Kara,” she sighs.
“Let it go? Let it—” Kara whirls back to face her, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Do you want The Tower to end up like Winn and James’ steakhouse? Or are you fine with getting swindled by this—this… villain?”
“Of course not.” Alex looks at her like she’s stupid. “But even if this woman is your so-called ‘food influencer’, what do you suggest we do about it? It’s not as if we can bully her into giving us a fair review.”
Kara squares her jaw and sets her fists firmly on her hips. “No,” she declares, her tone grim. “But we can teach her a little about journalistic integrity.” She blows at a lock of hair that’s fallen in her face. “And also, possibly, credit card fraud.”
Alex narrows her eyes at her. “Kara,” she warns, putting down her knife. Her voice is low and cautious, as if she’s talking to the rowdy raccoon that moved into their dumpster three weeks ago instead of to her baby sister. “Let’s just take a breath and think about this for a m—”
Kara is already gone, the doors to the kitchen swinging closed behind her. Sliding into the cluttered space behind the counter, she crosses her arms and then drops her elbows on the bar, leaning what she belatedly realizes is probably a little too close to her adversary. She’s close enough to make out the individual downy hairs on her chin and the lines in her painted lips, which are still pursed thoughtfully in what Kara is sure would look like an attractive pout to someone who didn’t know any better.
But Kara knows so much better.
“Let me guess,” she remembers to get out, much less biting than originally intended. “Today you’ll be having the fifth entrée down the list.”
As soon as their eyes meet over the miniscule amount of space left between them, Kara knows leaning in was a fatal mistake. Her nemesis blinks up at her with wide, startled eyes that remind Kara of the glass pebbles she finds on the beach on her morning walks, not-quite-blue and not-quite-green, and for a moment Kara’s brain sputters out as if someone abruptly turned off the flames that kept it cooking.
But the woman recovers fast, like the scheming scoundrel that she is. She guiltily shutters her eyes behind thick, charcoal lashes, and Kara’s temper revives at the observation that her enemy isn’t as good of an actress as she thinks she is.
“I’ve actually been thinking of breaking my own rule,” she says, with a smile that lands somewhere between self-deprecating and apologetic. “I may give in and order the same thing you served me yesterday.” Kara goes hot all over with righteous indignation at the rich timbre of the woman’s voice, the almost flirtatious lilt it takes on when she adds, “I haven’t been able to stop dreaming about it.”
Kara pulls back a little in an effort to escape that curious gaze, the enticing scent of the woman’s perfume. It’s sweet enough to drown out even Alex’s mountain of onions. “I know what you’re doing,” she blusters.
The—frankly unfairly beautiful—soulless grifter stares at her, stricken. “I’m—I’m sorry?”
“You should be,” Kara says. “I know who you are.” And then, as if she’s putting down the last card in a game of Uno, “Lena.”
The woman goes very still for a moment, and then the corners of her lips tug down in a bitter semblance of a smile. “I see,” she says. She’s rigid, regal; she’s royalty perched on a wobbly wooden stool. “And am I to assume that’s enough for you to turn down my patronage?”
Kara’s resolve wobbles, too. She hadn’t expected her adversary—Lena, she now knows—to roll over so easily. “Well, yeah, obviously,” she flusters, her energy suddenly too large and lumbering in the face of Lena’s deference. “Winn and James are family.”
“Family.” There’s a flicker of wistfulness in Lena’s voice, before confusion colors her features. “So the cold shoulder,” she says. “It’s personal?”
Kara scoffs. The fraudster doesn’t even remember the names of her latest victims. Typical. “It was their steakhouse that you razed to the ground last month,” Kara reminds her.
Lena blinks at her. “The establishment just up the road?” She raises a critical eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure they set themselves up for failure when they decided to name their restaurant Misteak.”
Kara huffs. Her air quotes are appropriately vicious when she says, “They were doing just fine before your slanderous ‘review’ went viral.”
Lena does a remarkably convincing impression of someone who is genuinely flabbergasted. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“Liar.”
Lena’s shocked laughter is bright but brief. It’s the first time Kara has heard her laugh. It’s maddeningly attractive and deeply annoying.
“Okay,” Lena says. She folds her arms in front of her chest and leans back a little in her seat, unaware of its delicate disposition. A smirk tugs at one corner of her mouth. “Tell me,” she says, her eyes narrowing. “Who do you think I am, exactly?”
Kara leans in close again, refusing to allow Lena to get the upper hand. She’d like to wipe that smirk from Lena’s face—manually, if need be—preferably, even, if it means she’d get to smudge that infuriatingly immaculate lipstick with her thumb—
“You,” Kara charges, in an effort to drown out that unhelpful thought, “are a fraud. You call yourself a ‘mystery food critic’ on TikTok, but really you’re blackmailing businesses into buying a favorable review.”
“Hey, um.” Alex has followed her out of the kitchen, holding her phone. “So. Winn texted back, and he says—”
But Lena laughs again, her guarded posture melting down to unmistakable relief. “I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice a high warble. “That sounds awful. And also extremely illegal. Have you reported this person to the authorities? I can get you in touch with an excellent lawyer, if you’d like.”
Kara doesn’t know if she feels more outraged or confused.
…Or possibly some secret third thing.
“So you’re telling me—” Kara barks out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re saying you’re not her.”
“This, ehm— Tic Tac person?” When Lena’s dark lashes flutter, something in Kara’s chest flutters too. “No.”
Impossible. “Then why have you been in here every day this week?” Kara interrogates, the full force of evidence she’s collected behind it. “When neither one of us has seen you here even once, since we opened?”
Alex rolls her eyes. “I told you I wasn’t sure whether I’d seen her here before,” she points out. “Also, Winn says—”
“Oh please,” Kara scoffs, her eyes fixed on Lena, who has propped her elbows on the counter again, closer now than she’d been the last time their eyes met. “As if you could forget a woman as beautiful as—” Kara’s gaze drops to Lena’s mouth, unbidden, when Lena parts those rude, ruby lips. “...You.”
Alex stares.
Kara swallows.
Lena blinks; two times fast, and then again, after a beat, slow and sticky, her eyes darkening.
“So you may as well come out with it,” Kara croaks out what little remains of her anger. “There’s something you want more than our fettuccine.”
Lena’s cheeks have turned a treacherously charming shade of pink. “I suppose you’re right about that one, at least,” she admits after a beat.
In Kara’s peripheral vision, Alex frantically slides her hand across her throat. Kara frowns at her, telegraphing a wordless what is your problem but finding no satisfactory answer in the crimson shade her sister’s face has taken on.
“Yeah, well,” she says, almost disappointed, fumbling to fill the space left by Lena’s confession. “I’m telling you right now that it’s never going to happen.”
Alex clears her throat with startling force. “Winn wants to know,” she says, reading from her phone, “Who’s the hot chick?”
When Kara returns her gaze to the woman on the other side of the counter, she gulps. Lena is somehow even closer than she was before. She’s also fully propping herself up now on the laminate surface between them, granting Kara a glimpse of freckled cleavage that in no possible universe could be interpreted as unintentional.
“So,” Lena drawls. “What you’re saying is you’re not going to give me your number?”
Kara’s throat is suddenly very dry.
“Huh?” she manages, but only just barely.
“I was hoping,” Lena says slowly, that maddening smirk once again tugging up the corner of her mouth, “that you’d maybe like to—”
Lena shifts in her seat, crossing her legs in what is bound to become a devastatingly seductive pose, but the barstool decides in exactly that moment that's it’s finally had enough. Lena yelps as it gives out beneath her with a dramatic snap, one of its rickety limps flying across the floor as if celebrating its first taste of freedom, and Kara’s never considered herself to be very quick, but here she is anyway, on the other side of the counter in what feels like less than a second, one hand gripping Lena’s forearm, the other slipping smoothly around her waist.
“—fuck,” Lena gasps up at her. She feels good, in Kara’s hands, slight but pleasantly heavy, like the santoku knife Alex has forbidden Kara from touching ever again. “Well,” Lena says. “That’s. Perhaps not the way I would have phrased it, especially in front of your friend—”
They both glance over at Alex, but she’s disappeared, the swaying of the kitchen doors the only indication she was ever there.
“O-kay,” Kara says.
Lena grins. “Okay?”
Kara mentally rewinds the conversation and feels her ears burn at the realization of what she just agreed to. “I mean,” she amends. “We could, maybe, grab something to eat first?”
Something devious sparks in Lena’s terrifyingly gorgeous face. She glances down at Kara’s arms before blinking back up at her again and smirking. “I thought you already had.”
And, goodness gracious.
Kara is about to be in so much trouble.
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perfectquote · 2 days
Quote
One of the best feelings is finding someone who really gets you. A person who lets you be vulnerable and honest. The kind of person who encourages you to push past your flaws because they accept you as you are. Someone who never tells you that you’re too much of this and too little of that. Because to them you’re just enough of everything they love.
Sylvester McNutt
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mrsparrasblog · 19 hours
Text
You're losing me pt. 5
prev. part. first part.
TW: Gun, violence, mentioned rape, gaslighting, medic is shit
It was your last day on sick leave, so you spent it grading papers, cuddling with Winston, and getting distracted by Kyle's messages and his slutty pictures. You were so thankful for Kyle; he never pressed you for what happened with Johnny, just distracted you.
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After you send a picture of Winston you heard the bell ringing and rolled your eyes. You knew Kyle never listened when you said not to come over, even though you really needed that time alone right now. Johnny is an artist, even though he didn't admit it, and so was being in a relationship with him. It was like being in a colorful picture, so vibrant. But since you left him, it felt like someone drained out the color; the painting is black and white, no longer golden.
You went to the door, opened it, and to your surprise, it wasn’t Kyle behind the door. She was there, her eyes puffy and red. 
"What do you want?" If she was there to humiliate you, you’re going to throw up. You shortly texted Ky that she was there.
"I wanted to talk to you, I need your help," she sobbed.
Simon always called you one of the nicest people on earth, but right now, it was enough of being nice. "Well, you can ask Johnny for help." You tried to shut your door, but her foot was already between the frame.
"He is the problem."
"What, did he leave you?" you snorted out.
"He threatened to kill me because of the baby." You clearly misheard her. This can't be true, as if you can do anything against Johnny, and as if Johnny would do something against his own teammate.
"Baby?"
"Yes, I'm pregnant, three months." She rubs her nonexistent belly in front of you. Three months? Johnny cheated on you for three months? And a baby? No, this can't be true. Johnny loves babies; he’d never kill a pregnant woman, none of them.
"And he is threatening you?" You asked while slowly trying to pull out your phone again. You knew Si would be here in 4 minutes if you called him.
"Yes, he wants to tell everyone that I raped him, just so I get an abortion." With that, you burst out laughing. This was the worst joke you ever heard. When she wanted you to pull you away from him for real.
"Do you really think I'm that stupid to believe this shit now leave my apartment before I call the police." You already pulled out your phone to dial the number of the police, who are you kidding, dial the number of Simon. Simon and John always explained if something happens to you, call them instead of the police, they solve your problem faster, and that was a gigantic slag-formed problem.
"Bad mistake," she points out a gun to you, calculating. You trained for this situation endless times in school, but it was still different when someone held a gun against you. Would it work to tell her that there are people that love her? Or maybe you should argue with logic.
"When you kill me, they won't forgive you, it's not worth it," you said trying to sound as calm as possible.
"They won't find out," she laughed. God, that woman was batshit crazy.
"Here are cameras," they weren’t recording, but maybe she was stupid enough to believe you.
"They will understand," she said. Maybe she was stupid enough but also crazy enough to not care. There is only the last logical thing you could say to her.
"Then kill me."
"What?" She was surprised at your bluntness, but you knew she couldn’t really kill you, and if Kyle looked at his phone, he would have already been on his way, so you need to get through this for 10 minutes, 10 minutes, and you are safe.
"If you kill me, Johnny will find you, Kyle will break you, Simon will torture you, and John will finish your miserable life, my death isn’t worth this." You slowly walked backward towards the counter, there must be a gun. John put it in there when you first got together. You didn't quite know how to use it, but better than nothing.
"You're right," finally.
"So why don’t we put the gun down and just, you know, talk about it like adults," you suggested, still moving tiny steps backward.
"Stop moving, or I'll kill you," the same words over and over again. She sounded like a broken record recorder. You stopped moving, but this wasn’t enough for her.
"Maybe I should kill your rat, so you listen." Rat? Her gun pointed toward Winston. Fuck, she should better kill you than your baby. You lost complete hope in turning her; she is crazy.
"He is Kyle's dog, not mine. If you kill him, he will be sad." The shake in your voice was evident; tears started to storm out of your eyes; you didn't know what to do anymore.
"Three of four are enough, anyways." Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"I can call them; I'll break up with them, just let Winston be safe, okay?"
"Really, you give up your boyfriends for that rat?" She gestured disgusted at your precious baby.
"Yes."
"Okay, call them," you walked to the counter, dialing Simon's number, close enough to the gun. You really hoped they don’t show a sign that they know; they are SAS; they need to understand, right?
"Hello," good, Simon's voice.
"Are the others with you?" You asked, trying not to tremble; she couldn’t find out what you planned.
"Yes, I put them on speaker, luv."
"I'm breaking up with you, with all of you for final this time. John, you're always putting me in danger, Johnny, you're always with her instead of my home, always on deployment with Simon, and you’re carrying all these scary guns with you that make me afraid, and I hate your stupid dog, Kyle." She looked proud and relieved at you, too stupid to realize. But they were smart, right?
"Okay, just give me back my keys to the office, they’re in the cupboard in the kitchen. I don’t want to see you anytime soon, I will pick it up at three tomorrow, bye." She gained heavily, and all you could feel was relief; you looked at the clock; it was 2:57, three minutes, and the gun. God, you loved your smart boys.
"Will you let me go now?" you asked, and she shook her head.
"Just need to make sure that you never go to my boys again, you can understand, right?"
"I'll move abroad if you want, the US, Germany, Italy, call it and I'll be gone." Before she could reply, she heard a loud bang outside, and that was your chance to grab the gun as she turned around, loaded fucking genius John, but not in safety, idiot. And then you shot, closing your eyes. You never did this before; the closest you came was a water gun at the beach; you didn't hit anything major, only her shoulder, but it was enough for her to lose her stance and fall. Seconds after, the boys went in Simon pulled her to the ground like a bulldozer with John. While Kyle and Johnny ran to you.
"Are you okay?" Both men asked, checking you for any injury.
"I don't feel okay."
"We know, love." You wrapped your arms around Johnny and began to sob. You needed him; you missed him and you were so scared. You knew for a fact he didn't cheat on you after that stunt that woman pulled today.
"We'll take care of her; we will be back soon, luv," Simon said with a devious grin while putting his boot on her to press down on her bullet wound.
John and Ghost left with her, and you knew for a fact your shot would be the nicest thing she witnessed in the next few days.
"I shot someone."
"Proud of you, hen."
"Never shoot again, please, babe; you're terrible at it," Kyle joked, but you still felt shitty. He knelt down, hugging Winston tight. "Oh, you've been such a brave and good boy protecting your mama. Let me take you to the park, pup," he said while Winston barked happily. "You two need to talk this out."
"Only we two now, Johnny."
"Aye, only we two."
"Where do we start?"
--------------------
Taglist: @cod-z , @kaoyamamegami, @postmortem-angel, @jackrabbitem , @sseleniaa , @thigh-o-saur , @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121 @thychuvaluswife
A/N : so I added the picture of Eliot to make up for the Angst I write 😭
For any who has a light belly (do you say that in english or only in German lol?) the next chapter will be half torture of her and the other half Johnny and Reader <3
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munsonsmixtapes · 2 days
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I Must Confess
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Eddie x shy!bestie!fem!reader
This is a continuation of Do Me a Favor?
summary: you finally tell Eddie that you’re in love with him and he has the exact opposite reaction you’re expecting
cw: hurt/comfort
You and Eddie were snuggled up in his bed just like always, watching the tv that was across the room. Neither of you wanted to admit that almost having sex has affected your friendship, even if it had been for the better. You were practically a couple, but neither of you wanted to be the one to give your relationship that label.
You had shared multiple kisses since then, every once making you fall even more in love with him. Every time you tried to say the words, they wouldn’t come out. It was like they got caught in your throat, like bile that wouldn’t come up. Why couldn’t you say it? You had told him you loved him many times, just not in that context.
The worst he could have said was that he didn’t feel the same way, but at least he would have known. The truth would be out and the ball would be his court and that terrified you. That you would no longer have control of the situation.
But you needed to do it. You couldn’t let your friendship continue without telling him that you were in love with him. It felt like an ache in your chest and you needed to get rid of it. You couldn’t go on any longer with the feeling even though telling Eddie the truth terrified you.
You looked up at him and the words felt so heavy on your tongue. If you were going to get rid of them, you were going to have to do it soon or else you wouldn’t do it at all.
“Eddie?” You got his attention and he looked down at you with his big brown doe eyes.
“What’s up?” He asked, his voice so casual. He was so unaware of what you were about to say and your heart rate picked up, pounding in your chest. Maybe it wasn’t too late to back out. Maybe you could say something else.
“I-” you paused, the words getting caught in your throat.
“You’ve been acting weird all week, honey,” his hands moved up to your shoulders as his eyes bored into yours. “What’s going on?”
“I-I-”
“You what, hon?” Eddie was so patient as he waited for you to get the words out, hating to watch you struggle to speak. Whatever you were going to say had clearly been hard for you to say and he just wanted you to be able to get it out since it had obviously been bothering you.
Maybe you could have made a run for it. That definitely sounded a lot better than admitting you had feelings for him. You had always been a coward and apparently nothing had changed.
“You don’t have to tell me.” He was giving you an out, but you didn’t want to take it. With a little more encouragement, got could tell him. You were convinced.
“No,” you said maybe a bit too harshly. “I need to get this out.” You took a few deep breaths and Eddie was almost convinced that you were going to hyperventilate.
“Whatever it is, honey, you can tell me.” His hands traveled down to yours and he pressed a soft kiss to each one.
“I’m in love with you.” The words came out so quietly that Eddie almost hadn’t heard you. As soon as the words came out of your mouth, he let out a soft laugh. Not exactly the thing you wanted to hear when telling someone that you were in love with him.
“Honey, I know.” Eddie had known pretty well early on. You had been super obvious, after all. With the way you looked at him like he hung the moon and hung onto his every word. He knew when you had stared at his lips when you thought he wasn’t looking.
But the good news was that Eddie had loved to you. He was head over heels, in fact. So down bad for you that he didn’t know what to do with himself sometimes. He had wanted to tell you as soon as figured out they got had feelings for each other, but he felt like the ball should have been in your court. He hated waited for years, but it had been so worth it.
“You know?” He had known and hadn’t told you? That was certainly embarrassing. How long had this gone on and he didn’t tell you?
“Of course I know, baby. I mean, sorry to break it to you, but you’re pretty damn obvious.” He straddled your waist and took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers.
“Are you kidding me?”
“Wish I wasn’t,” he shrugged. “But guess what? I’m in love with you too.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“So that means I could be your boyfriend. That is, if you wanted me to.”
“Of course I want you to be my boyfriend.” You rolled your eyes. He was so ridiculous sometimes.
“Good,” he smiled. “Because I want you to be my girlfriend.” He pulled you into a sweet kiss and you both smiled into it, eventually laughing into each other’s mouths, knowing that your friends weren’t going to be surprised in the slightest at your new relationship status. It had just been a long time coming and little did the two of you know that they all had a bet going to see who would confess first.
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buckysbabygorl · 23 hours
Text
A Favour (Part 4)
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Part 3
MAJOR SMUT ALERT
Summary: When secrets are revealed during girl’s night, Y/N takes action.
~
“Wow, talk about impulsive.”
Wanda wiggled further into her floor poof, noting to herself that Y/N was definitely being gifted new ones for Christmas.
“I know,” she filled up their glasses again. “I guess I dodged a bullet there. Still doesn’t make me feel any better.
Tucking the wine bottle on the nightstand before flopping to the floor, Y/N sighed.
The abandoned date was a week behind her, but she still couldn’t shake her frustration.
“He’s always hitting on me. And now Jane wants to give things another go and I’m discarded like a consolation prize.”
Wanda awed, “Oh love, don’t think of yourself that way.”
Her hand reached for Y/N’s arm, her thumb running over it softly.
“Men have a way about them, I’ll never understand it but it’s like—they constantly chase after the one that got away. It’s to no fault of your own, he’s just stupid.”
Y/N sipped her wine, smiling at Wanda.
“Thanks babe. Honestly, at the end of the day they have history. They’re well suited for each other. Hell they probably have better chemistry than Thor and I would have—”
“Oh I’m sure that’s not a factor. That man could have chemistry with anyone.”
Y/N wracked with laughter, Wanda was pretty reserved about her attractions. It was shocking when they came out.
“For sure. Big and bulky, thousands of years of experience…”
Wanda hummed, “Experience. Now that’s the kind of man you need Y/N. Someone who knows his way around a woman.”
Wanda flipped abruptly, sliding drunkenly to lay across from Y/N.
“Wanna know a secret?”
Y/N looked at Wanda’s glass, seeing it was almost empty.
Note to self, we’re slowing down after this one
“Of course,” Y/N mock-whispered.
Wanda giggled, “The best fucks are the older guys.”
Y/N gasped and smacked Wanda’s arm as she howled.
“Wanda! You’re naughty.”
“I am, I am. But it’s true. Younger men are selfish, rushing to the main event… the older ones take their time.”
She sat up, consumed by her reminiscence.
“They hold you, they tease you, they cherish you. Two words for you Y/N: body worship. It is the best thing since sliced bread. And I’m making sandwiches.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I know!” Wanda said, “But it doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
She threw back the rest of her glass and huffed.
“God, now I’m horny.”
Y/N scoffed, “You’re telling me. With all my potential suitors lined up, I’ve been on edge.”
Evident, considering her blatant proposition to Barnes.
She grew red at the thought, how could she do that? Just throw herself at him?
At least things weren’t awkward between them, he was even going to go as far to give her advice about Thor…
Now looking back on it, it did seem rather odd coming from him. She propositions him for sex, and then comes to give her bedrooms tops? Perhaps he had just been trying to compensate for that day before.
Whatever, she thought, she should just put it out of her head.
“Bucky!” Wanda exclaimed.
Y/N jolted, had she read her mind?
“What?”
Wanda shook her finger at her, “that’s the one you should go for. Christ, have you seen his arms?”
Y/N raised her brows and hummed, “Oh yes, yes I have. Beef cake to a T.”
“And that stubble, lord forgive me.”
Y/N pictured how it would feel scraping her neck, the inside of her thighs…
“But that ship has sailed. It didn’t even dock Wanda.”
Wanda halted as she reached for the wine bottle.
“Explain.”
“Well,” she bobbed her head as she thought, “I kinda already asked him.”
Wanda gasped.
“And he said no.”
Wanda then slammed her hand down. “Bad friend! How could you not tell me?”
Wanda grabbed her hand and shook it, “We could have made a game plan. He could’ve been putty in your hands!”
“I tried!” Y/N defended, “I thought it would be a good idea but it didn’t—I don’t know, pan out.”
Wanda groaned, “Where is Nat? She’ll talk some sense in to you.”
How could it have not panned out, Wanda thought. She knew of the affections he harbored for Y/N, him passing up his opportunity was beyond comprehension.
As if on cue, Nat barged through Y/N’s door. Stumbling with her bottle of tequila and go bag in hand, not even undressed from her late night mission.
“Okay!” She yelled, “I ran off the jet so I wouldn’t miss anything. I’ll do shots to catch up while you spill.”
She directed this to Y/N, who remained utterly confused.
“Spill what?”
Nat rolled her eyes as she unscrewed her bottle.
“Don’t be coy, it’s been a whole week since I talked with Barnes so I’m not even gonna pretend that I’m not in the loop.”
She mouthed the bottle and winced as the first shot went down. Wanda reached out with a grabby hand, and Nat complied.
“How was he? Tell us everything.” She demanded.
Wanda and Y/N shared a look of confusion, had Nat finally gone delusional after too many hits to the head?
“Nat, I’m serious. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Her face was read over by the super-spy, and she watched as Nat’s face contorted into annoyance. Her hand darted to grab the bottle back from Wanda.
“Wait. You’re telling me he didn’t make a move?”
Y/N sat up slowly, “No…”
As she drew it out, Nat knew then that Barnes has chickened out.
“Oh that goddamn idiot.”
“Nat what are you talking about?”
She sighed. She knew Bucky would do this. She didn’t know why, but he always found some excuse as to why he shouldn’t follow through. Bucky had to be pushed, and what better way than to tell Y/N herself.
“He charged to your room last week after training, determined to fuck the shit out of you.”
Wanda’s cough sent white wine all over the floor, Nat patted her back as Y/N took this in.
“You’re joking.” Y/N stated.
“No! He told me you asked him to, I told him he was an idiot, and then he went to your room. At least I assume he did—”
“—he did!” Y/N said.
The two women looked at her in shock.
“And he did nothing?” Wanda asked.
Y/N fumbled over her words, “Well—he came in. Yeah, he came in. Then he saw me upset and then we just hang out but he—we, we just—he was gonna fuck me?”
“He wanted to! Like bull in China shop charging out of the room, wanted to fuck you.”
“I can’t believe this.” Y/N decided to take the rest of the wine bottle for herself, slopping it down in the chaos of this news.
“The fuck do I do now?”
Nat gently placed a hand on her knee, face sweet and genuine.
“You mount him, sweetie.”
Wanda nodded eagerly, filling her wine glass with tequila.
“Body worship.” She enunciated.
Nat side eyed her, “What?”
Wanda waved her hand at her, “I’ll explain later.”
As Y/N sat silent, the two stared at her. Eyes dead ahead, Y/N still couldn’t wrap her brain around the idea.
“So?” Nat asked, “Are you going?”
Y/N was shocked, “What, like now?”
Nat threw her head back as she swiped the tequila back from Wandaz
Wow, she thought, they’re both idiots I guess.
“Yes NOW. We just got back from the same mission, he’s in his room as we speak.”
“That doesn’t mean I should go now! I should talk to him, I—I don’t get why he’d change his mind after I asked him—”
“No.” Nat demanded. She stood up, grabbing Y/N and rising with her.
“You two talk way too much. Every time you two come out on the opposite page you started. Or—opposite end of the book. Whatever, you’re not on the same page!”
Nat dragged her to the door, and whipped it open.
“You want to fuck Barnes. He wants to fuck you. When you two start talking that suddenly goes out the window. No more chit-chat. You, are going to get laid tonight. And it’s gonna be by 6 feet, 250 pounds of fine-aged muscle. And you are not coming back here until you do!”
She tossed Y/N out the door, leaving her in stunned silence in the hallway.
~
Bucky stripped himself of his gear, his shoulders and neck aching from the grip of his harness.
God, it felt good to get that off. It felt good to be home.
What he desperately wanted was a rub down, a deep tissue massage courtesy of Stark Therapeutics. But it was far too late for that, he’d have to go tomorrow.
His mind began to wander in his exhaustion, forming a picture of delicate hands working his muscles.
Eventually, the image of Y/N’s wandering hands came into his fantasy. Pulling, yearning for his sensitive skin…
His palms ran up his face into his hair. Now he needed a cold shower.
He should’ve just done it.
He must have been a masochist, torturing and teasing himself with his own chances, graphic and vulgar images just taunting him.
You could have had this, she could have been yours.
He was mad at himself. Now, with their pathetic back-and-forth he would never have a chance like that again.
And then when she finally got back in the game she’d meet someone that rocked her world, then they’d get married and have beautiful mini Y/N babies because of all the rocking sex they’d have.
Alright, now he was being dramatic.
He needed to cool off, breathe, sleep off and then reset.
He could do without one night of mental torture.
The ice cold water was uninviting, but much needed.
Though it was waking up his exhausted body, his mind was slowly letting go of Y/N.
Y/N, Y/N, Y/N….
He was trying his best, he really was. Especially after last week.
He made the choice to be supportive and passive about her sex life, things were feeling normal between them.
A knock came on his door, turning off the water he called out.
“Yeah?”
He waited a moment, but when receiving no answer, he went back to his shower.
He jumped out of his skin when the bathroom door whipped open.
Ponytail swinging, eyes hard, she darted to the shower.
“Y/N? What the hell!”
He didn’t attempt to cover himself, too shocked to move.
What the actual hell.
She pulled back the glass door, pausing as she took him in.
Every inch of him was just… goddamn insane.
Perfect arms, perfect abs, perfect v.
Looking down, she sighed.
“God, that’s gonna hurt.”
Bucky’s eyes went wide.
“Excuse me?”
She met his eyes. She looked wild; her pupils blown, panting, the water beginning to dampen her thin clothes.
Part of her hesitated, this was bold. This was a lot coming from her. The last few weeks were filled with waiting and waiting for the right proposal. She had tech geniuses, army vets, marine corps, doctors from all over the building shooting their shot, and none of them caught her attention.
But he however, was the only one she had sought after.
Thor had been tempting, but looking at Barnes in his soaked glory, she knew that the God could never compare. This was a man.
Bucky’s back hit the tiled wall, Y/N’s body being soaked by the shower stream.
His hands stay at his sides, unable to move.
This had to be a dream.
“I want you.”
Bucky’s mouth went dry at her declaration, lip dropping in slight awe.
“Do you want me?” She asked.
Their chests heaved in unison, the frozen water suddenly felt like a thousand degrees.
He stared at her. Her hands on his shoulders, that dangerous look in her eye…
“God yes.” He uttered.
It was so fast.
Her body pressed into him, soft lips covering his.
Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and his hands flew to her waist.
He turned them, hoisting her up against the wall. Her legs locked around his back as he ground his cock into her clothed pussy.
He pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, his hands nearly ripping her waistband.
He pulled back, resting his head against her forehead as he breathed out.
His body was on fire.
“Tell me you’re sure.”
She went to kiss him again and he ducked his chin.
“Y/N, tell me you’re sure.”
She tiled her head back against the cold, wet tile. She felt the heat pooling in her body, her hands hot as they gripped into his shoulders.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I need you to fuck me Bucky.”
That was all he needed.
Shower abandoned, he rushed to the bed with her.
He raked his hands along her body, he needed to feel every inch of her. He needed her to feel how desperately he wanted this.
Goosebumps littered her flesh, his metal hand doing nothing to satiate.
She wrestled to get herself unclothed, eager for his skin against hers.
He pushed her hands away.
“Let me,” he urged, “Let me touch you.”
She complied, lifting her arms above her head as he undressed her. Strong hands delicate but sure, confidently removing every piece that was in his way.
She was perfect.
He took in all her beauty; collarbones exposed, breast perked under his touch, the soft and supple feel of her skin, those hips, those legs, that perfect pussy…
He began his descent, kissing every inch as he urged to her to lay back.
Her eyes never left him, watching as her ravished her torso with his lips.
Body worship echoed in her mind.
His hands wander upwards, grazing her sensitive thighs.
“Bucky, please.”
She loved it, she did. It felt so good to be cherished like this, his fingers kneading into every spot he could grab. But she wanted him, she needed to feel him.
“Baby,” he whispered, stubble scraping her inner thighs, “I gotta take my time with you.”
She moaned as he gently bit the inside of her thigh, lifting her legs over his shoulders.
He groaned at the sound, reminding himself to slow down.
God, he wanted to fuck her. He wanted to leave her breathless, whining, desperate to cum beneath him.
But he couldn’t now. Next time.
He met her eyes as his tongue licked her folds.
Her head rolled back as he drew another moan from her.
He listened to her body, her sounds as her delved further in to her pussy.
Show me what you like baby, give it all to me.
His lips circled around her clit, tongue working hard and fast.
He’d be damned if he didn’t make her cum before he was inside her.
He planned to ruin her for anyone else, he wanted her pleasure so overwhelming that she’d never forget why she waited. She needed to know what real sex felt like.
“Fuck, Bucky.”
Her thighs clenched around his head, losing herself. She tried to loosen them as he continued his assault, but his hands locked them into place.
Squeeze me love, don’t hesitate. I want it all.
She cried out as he worked harshly with his tongue, she knew she was about to come.
“Don’t stop, Bucky please don’t stop.”
Her back arched against the mattress, and he held her down with his flesh arm. He wanted his face in it when she came, tasting all she had to give.
He hummed against her, passionately continuing as she rode out her climax. He felt it drip down his face, chin slick with her wetness.
He was tempted to go again, really make her writhe from his tongue, have her screaming his name so loud that the rest of the compound would be pounding on his door.
He wanted to give her more; and more.
But he’d wait. Not now.
Now he needed to be inside her, have her tight and wet pussy grip him as he rutted into her.
He had to know how she felt.
He wiped his chin before climbing on the bed, hovering over her.
She was speechless, eyes glassy as slipped himself between her legs.
“I’m gonna fuck you nice, and slow. You're gonna tell me what you need baby."
In awe, she lifted her hips to his. She didn't care if it hurt, the pleasure would come. She knew he'd make sure of that.
He grazed her entrance with his head, gently teasing.
"Tell me you want me, baby."
She whimpered, mind reflecting on Wanda's statement earlier.
They hold you, they tease you, they cherish you…
He was relishing in her pleasure as much as she was.
“I want you Bucky, please. I want you to fuck me.”
She bucked her hips up to his, and he pressed her further into the mattress.
He hushed her, “Easy baby, I’m not going anywhere.”
His head ducked beneath her ear, softly sucking at the skin.
Her nails dug into his shoulders, his body warm against hers.
“Ready?”
She nodded into his shoulder.
Grabbing her chin, he placed a soft kiss on her lips.
Staring into her eyes, he watched her face as he eased himself in.
God, he was huge.
Slowly, he let his cock fill her up. His hips stuttered at her tightness, she was so warm… so wet…
He kissed her neck as she signed, hands sliding under her hips to hold her against him.
Her arms wrapped around his back, legs locking behind his so she could take all of him.
She wanted him to move, she needed him to move.
“Please Bucky, I’m ready.”
He nodded into her shoulder, steeling himself to not cum right then and there/
She felt so good, he’d wanted this for so long.
And now she was begging him for more, perfect body wrapped around him.
His wildest dreams never could have imagined this.
His thrusts were gentle, purposeful.
He wanted her to take every inch, he wanted her a mess beneath him.
He gave it to her nice, and slow. Just as he promised.
She moaned softly as his rutting picked up pace, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.
He groaned, “You’re taking me so well. You’re doing so good baby.”
Her breath hitched at his words, and Bucky’s sly smile grew against her skin.
Her heartbeat pulsed into his cheek, and he nipped at the skin of her neck.
“Yeah? You like that baby? Tell me.”
“Yes,” she breathed out, “You feel so good.”
He moaned into her neck, strokes rolling wave after wave of pleasure to her core.
“That’s my girl. That’s my good girl.”
She was soaking his cock, becoming tighter and tighter.
“You fuck me so good Bucky, fuck I—”
She couldn’t hold back her cry, his cock hitting the perfect spot inside of her.
He was worried he’d hurt her, but as her place contorted in pleasure he continued his pounding.
He hesitated in speaking, feeling selfish. Then couldn’t stop himself as she cried out his name.
“Whose pussy is this?”
“Yours.”
She said it without thinking, brain foggy and filled with thoughts of only him.
He could let the sound of that replay for eternity.
“That’s a good girl. Fuck you feel so good.”
He lifted her legs over his shoulders, pushing himself deeper inside her.
He slowed himself as she whined, trying to remember that he couldn’t ruin her yet.
It needed to be slow, this had to be all about her…
No matter how desperately he wanted her cumming from overstimulation, fingertips gripping the bedsheets, crying out his name and only his.
“Bucky…”
It was the only thing she knew to say, her mind devoting her words to only him.
He was getting close, but he couldn’t let himself finish.
Fucking her slow, he slipped his hand over her clit. Making gentle and soft circles, drawing her last orgasm out of her.
He bit into her calf as she came, urging himself not to cum as she did. She coated his thighs, and he moved faster.
His thumb on her clit moved with the pace of his thrusts.
“C’mon baby, give me another one. Cum for me Y/N.”
She felt lightheaded as another orgasm came, washing over her body as she cried out his name again.
“That’s my girl. Fuck Y/N, you’re perfect.”
He groaned as he finished, collapsing on top of her.
Sweaty and hot, they laid against one another. Legs tangled, his hands still pressing her into him.
Their breathing slowed, he reached over to gently kiss her forehead.
“You okay?” He whispered.
She hummed, nodding into his chest.
He chuckled, “Tired?”
She nodded again, smiling into his skin.
He slowly kissed along the side of her face, shifting to cradle her in his arms.
He was coming down from his high, the room became clearer. He drifted his hand along her spine, in silent awe that everything had changed in an instant.
“You really came barging in here.”
She laughed, laying her head on his chest.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“Jesus, don’t be. It was an answer to my prayers.”
She laughed again, sitting up and pulling at her ponytail.
She let in drape over her shoulders, softly staring at him with a small smile.
“Could’ve been sooner. Nat said you chickened out last week.”
He groaned, “Of course she told you. I’m sorry, okay? I just got scared.”
“You scared? It was my first time.”
“I know, but… I wanted it to be your choice. You asked me to earlier but… I didn’t think you wanted what I did. And I needed you to enjoy it.”
She hummed, laying against him again. Her hands placed in the soft tuft of hair on his chest.
“Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Enjoy it.”
She cuddled into his side, “Of course I did. I know I made the right choice, Buck.”
He nodded, his worries silenced.
“And I know I’m gonna enjoy it next time.”
His brows shot up, “Next time?”
“Oh yeah,” she lifted herself to face him, “next time.”
She kissed his lips, “And the next.”
Another kiss, “And the next.”
They laughed together as she continued. Thank god she had waited all this time.
Bucky drifted to sleep with the thought of each “next”, excited for every single one.
~
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httpknjoon · 1 day
Text
the truth, the lie, and the surprise | jjk
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plot | After Wooshik receives the surprise meant for your boyfriend, Jungkook is put in an interrogation situation to talk about his undisclosed relationship with a certain 'Princess'.
words | 1.6k+
genres | fluff, crack,  secret relationship au, established relationship au, friends to lovers au
pairing | jungkook x reader
note | this one's long overdue! the end is coming for this series. enjoy reading.
main masterlist  |  drabble series masterlist
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“I really feel like I’m not your friend anymore.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes at his friend’s dramatics. His eyes have traveled everywhere in the diner except to Wooshik, who’s sitting in front of him. Jungkook looks down at his chocolate milkshake, playing with the straw while listening to his friend. 
This all began with the surprise flower arrangement you sent for him– which he loved by the way. It was special for him, especially since you included tiger lilies, his favorite flower, in the center of the arrangement. It was his first time receiving one and he would have loved indulging in the fleeting feeling of having flowers sent to him. But, just less than an hour ago, Wooshik received the said delivery sent by you meant for him. At that point, Jungkook knew he had to reveal his relationship status because how else would you explain someone sending his flowers a day before Valentine’s? 
At first, his stomach dropped when Wooshik asked him who Princess was. But now, sitting here in the diner near the bowling alley they initially talked about going to, he just keeps on biting his inner cheek to stop himself from smiling or even chuckling at how dramatic Wooshik is.
Wooshik continued after taking a sip from his ice-cold soda, “You know? I feel like you’re keeping secrets from me. I’m your best friend, Kook. Why are you hiding stuff from me? I never hide anything from you.”
That’s when Jungkook had to interfere, “Freshman year, 2015. You didn’t tell me you got to go out with Grace Lee for not just one– or two– or three dates with her. You two went out for like a month. You knew that–”
“Okay. maybe that. But that was one time and she came on to me in Bryan’s house party.” Wooshik defended himself, maintaining the same narrative he told him years ago when Jungkook found out about him and the girl he had his eyes on in the first couple of months of their freshman year.
“Okay. Then, this is my one time too,” Jungkook replied, leaning back to the vibrant red faux leather of the diner booth.
“Yeah, but this one’s pretty serious. I mean, she sent you flowers! And everything is starting to make sense now.” 
Wooshik recalled how his best friend gradually stayed lowkey every time they would go out. He was beginning to wonder why Jungkook stopped entertaining women who would come up to him at bars or any other place they went to. Plus, in Wooshik’s knowledge before this, Jungkook has been single for too long. It is unusual not just to him, but to everyone in your friend group. Jungkook used to be the subject of teasing by everyone because of how he struggled to commit to a relationship.
“Did you not tell about this because we bet on your relationships a long time ago?” he asked, recollecting when he, Jenny, Blaire, and occasionally Dara would take bets on how long his relationship would last. You always just laugh at them doing that but never join.
“Maybe,” Jungkook answered shortly. It is one of the factors you and him decided to stay private about your growing relationship.
“Why keep her a secret? Does she know you’re keeping her a secret?” Wooshik began throwing rapid-fire questions.
Jungkook remained calm, “Yes, she knows. It’s a decision we made. We’re not totally a secret, we’re just private.”
“What?” his best friend mumbled, confusion written all over his face. “What’s the difference— Has she met your mom?!”
“Yes, a thousand times.” 
“And she never told me about it?!” he exclaimed.
Being friends for almost half of their lives now, Wooshik is basically Jungkook’s adoptive brother. He is close to his parents, especially to his mom, who treats him as her own. They would call each other at times like a real mother and son. But knowing these two people in his life, Jungkook knows that there was probably a time when his mom probably slipped on telling Wooshik about you. But he probably missed it.
“Okay, just ask anything right now. I’ll answer anything I can.” 
“Is Princess her name? Or it’s just some kind of nickname?” Wooshik asked.
“A nickname.”
“How long have you been together?”
There was this weird tension in the air when Wooshik asked him these questions. Jungkook finds it funny that he feels like a criminal being interrogated by an officer, who is just his friend being naive and curious at the same time.
“More than two years,” Jungkook replied, looking straight into his friend’s eyes. That’s when he sees Wooshik’s eyes get bigger as more realizations set in his head.
“Two years?! Have I met her before?” he asked so loudly that the couple from the table next to them looked in their direction.
His tone was almost accusatory. Out of context, if you’re a stranger listening to these two men, you would assume that they are a couple and that Jungkook cheated on Wooshik. Jungkook turned his head to the couple and slightly bowed his head to offer a silent apology for the bother. Then, he looked back at his friend.
“Yes, you already did.” 
Wooshik’s jaw dropped to the diner’s checkered floor. He was left with no words while trying to recall every woman he met around Jungkook. He tried to trace back every woman he met because of him. But with him having a brain like a sieve, it’s hopeless. And as if Wooshik’s jaw can get lower, Jungkook continued.
“A lot of times already actually.”
Is it rude that Jungkook is enjoying this? At this point, he is just teasing his best friend for his reactions. Feeling his mouth run dry, Wooshik closed his mouth.
“Am I… the only one who didn’t know about this?” he asked slowly, admittedly feeling a little dumb with not realizing this secret Jungkook had been keeping.
“Will it make you less offended about this whole thing if I tell you you're the first to know in our friend group?”
Wooshik nods his head slowly, “Maybe.”
“Okay.” Jungkook nods. “You are the only one who knows.”
He smiled even wider, knowing full damn well that he is lying.
An hour after they arrived there, the two ended up walking back home after finishing their drinks at the diner. The plans of going to the bowling alley next door were all gone when Wooshik remembered that he had lesson plans and school activities needed to prepare for the upcoming week.
“So, Princess. Two years. I met her before. I’m the first one to know.” Wooshik recited every vital information he learned today.
“Yup.” Jungkook nods.
As soon as they got back in his house, Jungkook was asked of another question.
“Will you ever introduce her to me and everyone?” 
And without even pausing for a second, he replied, “Of course. We already talked about that.”
Because you two did. A few times before and after you drunkenly revealed your relationship to Blaire. But there is still no crystal clear plan for it. Just discussions that sometime this year, you will tell your friends about everything.
“When? When are we gonna meet her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we’ll just surprise you.” Jungkook laughed.
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Later that day, Jungkook went to your place. You just got home from your Galentine’s Day celebration with your friends. You gave him a small box of vanilla cupcakes you baked on your own during the baking class you, Jennie, Blaire, and Dara took that day. Your boyfriend also took notice of your newly dyed hair, complimenting you on the color you chose. He then thanked you for the flowers and what escalated after receiving them. You two exchange stories about your equally eventful day while Bam sleeps on his soft bed in the corner of your living room. 
“And what did he say when he learned about how long we’ve been together?” you excitedly asked with a grin already forming on your face.
Instead of answering your question, Jungkook acted out Wooshik’s reaction. It was exactly like what was in your head. You laughed, softly slapping his arm. He smiled before turning his head again back again to his sketch pad, that you bought some time ago at a dollar store. He has been sketching since you handed him that pad minutes ago.
“He didn’t overreact, did he?” you asked, a little worry can be heard in your tone.
Jungkook looks up, sensing the tone. He smiled while reaching for your hand, “It’s Wooshik. Of course, he overreacts.”
Unexpecting that, the tightness in your chest cleared off and was instantly forgotten as you laughed. Jungkook chuckled too.
“Anyway, what do you think about this? Do you think this is something you would love to have on your skin forever?” He then turned his sketch pad to you, showing you what he’s been working on.
You gasped, “Babe, I love it!” 
You reached for the pad and looked at the different pieces he drew. Since you brought up the idea of getting matching tattoos during your recent picnic date, you also asked him to draw the tattoo you two would get to make it more special. You would draw it yourself but you knew Jungkook is much better of an artist than you.
You snapped a picture of the drawing, “I’ll send these to the artist and maybe we can get it tattooed tomorrow.”
“Are you getting them all?!” he asked as he drew three separate objects that symbolize something from each other.
“Yeah, I know I cannot just choose one from any of them.”
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TAGLIST (closed)
@hobiuwusunshine @alinerl @bbangtanlove95 @daydreamiies @craftymoonchaos @awseokjin @yoonabeo @luvrsofbts @bloopkook @chvngbiin @takochelle @wildarmy @cuddlysoftbear @luv-minhyun-world @shydestinyyouth @bbtsficrecs @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii @jkbabiey @hopeworldjimin @chieftoadturkeynickel @ppeachyttae @tannies-luv @loomipee @sanctify-mp3 @stuffy16 @di0rgguk @tswisal1 @amara-mars @jksgirlhere @callmejimmeo @rapmonie2047 @petalsofink @daemontargaryenwhore @juju-227592
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Text
Bleeding Heart Syndrome
Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.6k
Warnings: angst, bucky kills someone, implied smut
Summary: Deciding to give this another try, you want to prove to yourself that Bucky is more than just the murderer you know him to be. He takes you to his work to show you that he runs a business like any normal person. However, when someone makes one wrong comment, you're reminded why your heart bleeds because of him.
Between Love and Hate Masterlist
Squares Filled: no modesty (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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x
Then
It didn’t matter how many dates you and Bucky went on, you were still nervous to have him over. You decided to bring him over to your house for a homemade dinner. Your mother taught you how to make a delicious pasta dish that you were just dying for Bucky to try.
Bucky pulled up to your house with Steve and Sam in the car. Bucky checked the time for the tenth time since leaving his mansion. Living this double life was getting too hard to conceal. You were getting closer to him and asking all these questions that he couldn't answer. He was trying so hard to keep you in the dark, but how long could he do this?
Sooner of later, his past was going to catch up to him.
“Should we follow you up?”
“No,” Bucky sighed. “Just stay out here.”
Bucky got out, walked up to your door, and knocked. You jumped from the sudden noise but rushed over to the door. You opened it to see Bucky standing there looking drop-dead gorgeous.
“Right on time,” you smiled and let him in.
“Is something burning?”
“Shit.”
You left his side and ran to the kitchen. You yanked the pan off the stove and checked on the vegetables in there.
“Need help?”
“Actually, yes. My mom taught me this recipe but I never said I was good at cooking it,” you chuckled.
Bucky shed off his jacket only to drape it over the back of the chair. His muscles bulged in the tight shirt he was wearing. Forget dinner. You wanted him. Bucky took over the process and made it his own despite you telling him how your mom made it.
“Check on the noodles.”
You took a single strand of noodle and threw it at the wall. It stuck to it like it was glue.
“It’s ready,” you grinned.
After draining the noodles, you poured them into the pot that had the sauce. The noodles flowed over as a bunch so that they splattered inside, causing the sauce to spray out. You gasped when it touched your neck and Bucky smiled when he saw a red drop on his white sleeve.
“I am so sorry,” you giggled.
Bucky pulled you close and leaned down to press his lips on your neck. He licked a stripe up your skin to gather the sauce. Your giggle turned into a moan when you felt his lips latch onto your skin.
“No fair, Bucky,” you moaned. He nibbled on your skin right over the spot where you needed him the most. “Wait, the food needs to go in the oven.”
Bucky pulled away and quickly placed the dish into the oven at the right timer. He turned to you and grabbed your waist so he could sit you on the counter. He leaned in again but you backed away before his lips could touch yours.
“Wait, we only have thirty minutes before the food is done.”
Bucky tilted his head to the side and did some math in his head.
“Six times.”
“What?”
“I can make you come six times before the oven goes off.”
You didn’t have a chance to say anything as he whisked you away to the bedroom.
Now
You open your eyes and see that it’s not a dream; Bucky found you and took you to one of his mansions. Being back here will mess with your head in a way that makes you think you’re not going to survive this. Still, you get out of bed and push down those feelings. You don’t want to feel this way. You want to be able to love him and go on dates without fearing what will happen if someone bad crosses your path.
You want to love him in the way you deserve but you’re not sure how.
Someone is cooking something delicious in the kitchen, and your stomach rumbles to let you know that it wants food. You put a cardigan on and head downstairs to the kitchen where a chef is cooking breakfast. You must have passed by ten of Bucky’s men, all armed and ready for anything that might come their way.
This makes you feel like you’re in a prison, not someone’s home. Will you ever feel at home here?
“Here you go, Miss Y/N,” the chef says and slides you a plate of food.
“Not hungry,” you sigh and push it away.
“Eat.”
You look to the left and see Bucky walk into the kitchen dressed in a suit. However, his white shirt is untucked and open revealing his toned stomach and chest that you love so much. His tie is slung over his shoulders and his hair is damp from his shower. He is practically half-naked in front of his own chef and men. This man has no modesty.
“You’re not my dad.”
Bucky pours himself a cup of coffee before turning to face you. He doesn’t take his eyes off you as he finishes getting ready. Your eyes follow his fingers as they work their way down his shirt. He tucks his shirt in and begins working on his tie next, and you snap your eyes up to his.
“I’m not in the mood to argue. Eat.”
“No.”
Bucky finishes with his tie before walking over to you. He is so intimidating while standing but with you sitting down next to him, it’s almost impossible not to shrink back into your seat like a little kid.
“You can be pissed at me all you want but you’re not skipping out on a meal. Eat.”
“Or what? You’ll force me?”
Time seems to slow down the longer he stares at you. Then, he grabs your jaw not super tightly before forcing your mouth open.
“Yes.”
You push him away and grab the fork to show him you’re complying with his request. He waits until you take two bites before leaving your side to tend to his coffee. Damn, these eggs are soft and fluffy.
“Happy?”
“I have to go work,” he says instead of answering your question. “I’ll be back later.”
“Off to kill someone?”
“I do own a business, you know,” Bucky sighs. “A business that will crumble if I’m not there.”
“Can I go with you?” you ask before you can stop yourself.
“You want to come with me?”
“Yeah. It beats being alone in this house with a bunch of strange men with large guns.”
“There are many more are work.”
“Will you let me come or not?” you sigh.
“Go get dressed,” he says after a beat, “after you finish eating.”
You quickly down the rest of your food before heading to your room to get dressed. Bucky waits patiently for you to finish before escorting you to one of his luxurious cars. He keeps the music low and maintains a reasonable speed. For someone who murders people, you’d think he’d want to speed all the time. No, he’s too busy thinking about you and driving carefully in order to protect you.
You might think he’s a monster but he’s never stopped loving you.
When Bucky arrives at his skyscraper of a building, he leads you inside with a hand low on your back. The receptionist sees him and flashes him a flirtatious smile. She subtly fixes her dress to make her boobs stand out, and you glare at her as you pass by.
“Good morning, Mr. Barnes.”
“Good morning, Tate.”
He keeps it simple without so much as a look at her but that doesn’t stop her from trying to gain his attention. She looks at you and almost shrinks back into her seat from the glare you’re giving her. You two step onto the elevator and begin the journey to the top floor.
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?” you ask and look at him.
“You’re giving her the same look you gave every woman who tried to flirt with me. Remember that poor girl you made cry on our second date?”
“Shut up,” you snap. “There is no look.”
If you could, you’d wipe that smirk right off his face. Thankfully, he drops it for now. The higher you go, the more men with large guns there are. Bucky wasn’t kidding before. You know what kind of work he’s involved in but how much protection does one man need?
“I’m in meetings for most of the morning but you’re more than welcome to stay in here. My computer password is pisică.”
“Of course it is,” you laugh humorlessly.
“If you need anything, I am only down the hall.”
“Yeah, I got it.”
Bucky resists the urge to go over to you and kiss you. You’ll come around and he just needs to be patient. As soon as he leaves the room, you walk over to the giant window that overlooks the entire city. Damn, he has such a nice view. You take in his office and notice personal pictures on his desk.
All of them are of you. There is one with you two standing in front of a mirror with his hand around your throat. You thought it would be a good picture at the time. You had just taken three shots before going to dinner so you thought this picture was a good idea. Another one is of you at the beach he took you to. He bought it out so that you two could enjoy some privacy and he caught you soaking up as much sun as you possibly can. The third one is of you laughing because you had pulled a prank on Bucky and he couldn’t miss an opportunity to snap a photo of your smile.
You don’t realize you’re crying until you taste salt on your lips. You were so happy in these pictures. This was before you knew what Bucky did. This was before reality slapped you in the face. You’re not sure what to do but you know how you feel. You love him so damn much but you’re hating yourself for loving a murderer.
You sit at his desk and log into his computer. He must not have anything incriminating on his computer if he’s going to let you snoop without him in here. All this power but you’re not going to snoop in places you don’t belong in. He trusts you and after all this time, you’re not going to let that break.
Instead, you go to Amazon and smirk when you see what’s floating around in your cart. If Bucky is so rich, he won’t mind if you spend a few thousand dollars on shit you want but don’t need. It’s not like he’s going to miss the money.
Bucky’s phone pings at a notification from his bank. Someone spent over five thousand dollars on Amazon, and he smirks when he realizes you’re out there spending his money. You might be doing it to spite him but he loves it when you spend his money. He confirms the purchase through a text message before returning his attention to the many men inside the conference room.
Some of the men are involved with different mafia’s from around the country, some men are CEOs of different businesses, and some men are important in their perspective fields. All of them are interested in the weapons Bucky sells. He’s become so successful that he delivers to everyone across the country. They all flock to him like cattle.
“Gentlemen, I have an epo coming up soon in New York that will showcase the weapons I have for purchase. Of course, you’re more than welcome to come but the price is set. NO discoounts will be given.”
That sends some of the men in an uproar. They’ve been doing business with him for years and they’re still treated like first-time customers.
“Come on, Buck, don’t you think you’re being a bit unreasonable with your prices?” One of the Mafia men, Antonio, asks.
“You’re more than welcome to go somewhere else. Oh, wait, you can’t. I’m the only one with the shit you want so take it or leave it.”
Antonio shuts up knowing he can’t take Bucky on right now. Instead of fighting him, he leans back in his chair and stares at Bucky. The meeting continues on for another two hours as they discuss the weapons expo and Bucky’s telecommunicaiton sector that sells privacy for computers. Bucky looks at his watch and sees it’s almost lunch time so he decides to address one more thing before concluding this meeting.
“One last thing before this meeting is done.” He looks at one of the men who is one of the best drug lords in the couontry. “Race, tell your men to stay the fuck out of my goddamn bar. They’re brewing up trouble.”
“I can’t stop my men from going where they want to go,” Race shrugs.
“Maybe if one of them has a bullet in their heads, you’ll ge tthe message.”
Race rolls his eyes but knows better than to argue with Bucky. Before anyone can say anything, someone knocks on the door. Everyone turns their heads to you when you open the door and steps inside.
“Oh, sorry,” you sutter.
You turn to leave but Bucky stops you.
“Come here, pisică.” You walk further into the room and try to ignore all the stares you’re getting from the men. Bucky hates that they’re all looking at you like you’re a piece of meat but he doesn’t start a fight he knows he will win. Antonio keeps his eyes on your ass longer than the rest of them, making Bucky’s blood boil. When you get to him, he pulls you inot his lap despite the blush on your cheeks.
“Never be sorry for being where I am. What do you need?”
“I’m hungry,” you whisper, hoping no one else can hear him. “I wanted to go out and get lunch.”
“Take Steve with you.”
You look into his blue eyes in thought. You don’t tell him that you wanted to go out to lunch with him. Instead, you nod and get off his lap.
“Cute girl you got there, Barnes,” Antonio chirps. “You gonna pass her around or what?”
You freeze in your step, clearly uncomfortable with his comment. Before, Bucky was willing to let his wandering eyes slide. Now, he’s a dead man.
“Take Steve with you to lunch. Go,” Bucky says to you.
Thankfully, you don’t argue with him. As soon as you close the door behind you, you hear the clear sound of a gunshot. If his comment made you freeze, you’re fucking rock soldi now. Still, you peek into the room through the small window on the door. Antonio is slumped over in his chair with blood splattered on the wall behind him. He’s dead. Bucky killed him. You look up and lock eyes with Bucky who still holds the smoking gun.
He hates that you’re crying because of him.
You immediately turn and run from the room to where the elevators are. You barely get on when you hear Bucky’s voice call for you. You turn to him with tears running down your cheeks.
“No, I’m fine, Bucky. I shouldn’t have expected anything different.”
“I wasn’t going to let him live after what he said.”
The elevator doors start to close but you put your hand out to prevent them from doing so.
“That’s the problem with you, Bucky. Your immediate response to everything is death. I shouldn’t have come here. You should return to your meeting. I’ll have lunch alone.”
You let go of the elevator doors and continue to stare at him until the doors closing breaks your eye contact. Your heart is breaking because he is the best thing to have ever happened to you, but how can you ever get past something like this?
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faetreides · 3 days
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you nailed how i imagined modern!feyd to be (batshit crazy) but you think he‘d let cute hello kitty reader put like stickers and bows on his motorcycle and stuff lmao? would he be an ass and be mean about it or would he allow it because reader is all sad and mopey otherwise 😔🎀 (maybe brat reader? like how would mans handle that in the modern au because in the canon verse pissing him off is a bit too scary) and alsoooo i laughed my ass off when you wrote he would debone coryo like a fish because yuh that twink (he could do bad things to me) wouldn’t stand a chance fr
he would actually make coryo so concerned, like they’re both from well off families (feyd just does underground fighting bc for the #love of the game) but coryo will be like “these poor people are CRAZY.” coryo gives off the vibes of he’d tell someone to kill for him (especially when he gets older, or he wouldn’t get his hands dirty if he does it himself & he’s methodical), feyd is tearing out throats with his teeth. he’d tackle his uncle and start stabbing, he’d gnaw his own arm off just for fun like you can’t compete where you don’t compare tbh. (coryo’s still my bf tho <3)
anyway,
cw: 18+ mdni, typical feyd warnings, spanking/pain play type stuff
modern!feyd would only let you put stickers on his bike if they’re the ones that are like hello kitty holding a gun or something. it’s not like he’s afraid that the softer ones will undermine his masculinity or anything, feyd’s ripping into other men with no real regard for keeping their bodies intact, it’s just that the cutesy stickers go on his helmet. he’ll let you tie a ribbon around his bicep and film videos of him flexing and making it pop off. he would wear matching pjs with you, but he doesn’t want to get blood on them so he sticks to his trusty sweats. he’s the kind of person to wear black in the hot summer sun because he’s spiteful enough to not give a fuck about heatstroke, like it’s something he could fight lmao. gets a matching dear daniel x hello kitty tattoo with you i fear, or a my melody x kuromi one since that’s more your dynamic.
brat!reader with canon era feyd does scare me to death, but with modern!feyd it’s fun to think about…. to a degree. like if you keep it up, he’s pausing the match and dragging you inside the ring to spank you in front of everyone. open palm strikes with half of his strength, if he used all of it your ass might fall off. his rings add even more sting. you learn quickly to know when to pack it up and throw in the towel, because he will NEVER be the one to test out your devious little ideas and macinations out on. he’ll shove a vibrator up your pussy and take you for a long ride on his bike, ignoring the way you try to hump him as he points out the sights he thinks you’d be interest in. weirdly punishes you by fucking nice and slow when you want your shit rocked, he doesn’t even edge you or anything, he just gives it you so soft and sweet and holds your hips down so you can’t try to buck them.
in some ways, you being at his matches has helped his abilities. (you do have to come to his fights btw, if you’re not there expect the rumble of his engine to be heard outside of wherever you’re at. feyd will get his unlce to cancle the match if you’re not there, he’s ultimately a certain kind of performer and if the key audience member isn’t there??? what’s the point.) he has to keep an eye on you, which helps him multitask. he’ll be punching some fuckin’ loser into an unrecognizable pulp while, out of the corner of his eye, making sure that no one’s trying to drag you into any wagers or into their cars. he’s curious if you could cum just from watching one of his fights, from hearing the agonized whimpers of his opponent as feyd effortlessly conquers them. something about you must be sick, because the more ruthless he is in a fight, the higher you’re jumping on him and the more marks you’re sucking into his neck.
you’re so clumsy with it, always putting too much teeth into your hickeys. but that’s just the way he likes it, because you know he’s actively holding back from biting you so hard that’s nearly cannibalizing you. (side note: loves gorey horror, nothing too funny or artsy, he likes shit that cares more about the pure carnage than quips or wide camera shots. hannibal is too “fancy” for him, he always asks you to explain what the fuck they’re talking about.) definition of mauling you like a bear, fucking him is like meeting God if they were an eldritch horror and you were on the brink of death. it is NOT for the weak, his thick arms holding you in a headlock as he pistons his gigantic cock into your cervix. he makes you cum until pass out, then he makes you do it again to wake you up. really good at resetting your brain if you need him too.
modern!feyd who gives you the ultimate scary guard dog priviledge. you’re going about your business in a store and he’s practically vibrating behind you, foaming at the mouth and waiting for some mf to try it with you so he can berserk. but no one ever takes the bait, just one look at his deranged ass and they’re swiftly turning on their heels and high tailing it out of the apple store (you’re taking too long to pick what color imac you want.) copies whatever pictures you saw on pinterest, acting as your little prop. wrapping a tattooed hand around your throat, mirror selfies where he’s holding you over his shoulder by your ass, gross close ups of his long tongue wrapped around yours, insta stories directed at paul specficially bc he won’t stay out of your dms. asks his opponents for date ideas while he’s beating their ass 💀, made his uncle organize a remartch (even though feyd won) with the guy who limped over to your adorably clad in pink form and asked you to get boba (because he noticed feyd giving you your favorite before his fights).
pierced dick, would sharpen his teeth and make his tongue forked. face tattoos + whatever piercing’s more painful. big in body mods overalls like he sees himself as an extension of his motorcycle that he’s always illeggaly modding, fast and furious type specs that no court of law would deem road safe. but he always devotes part of his brain to making sure you’re safe when you ride along with him, reaching behind him and his black painted nails rubbing comforting little circles into your plush thighs. ambidextrous by choice and practice, for sure has a cauliflower ear. whenever you’re sad and pouting, he’s grabbing your chin in between his thumb an pointer finger and lifting your head up so he lovingly teases you about being a crybaby and so he can lick your tears away. (and he doesn’t even do it with sexual intent, feyd’s genuinely just trying to consume your sadness directly since word’s aren’t his strong suit.) could fall asleep in an ice bath, has done it before, dad type snoring like you wouldn’t believe.
loves it when you ride him in any kind of water, you have to pack extra strength sun screen if you’re going to be out in the sun though bc he WILL burn more often than not. still has your pussy gorilla glue gripping his length though, there’s no pain on earth that would put him out of comission & that’s a promise.
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hqbaby · 1 day
Text
three — have to be
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mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader
⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 2.5k content. profanity, college kids being stupid, some angsty feels
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Contrary to popular belief, college isn’t that different from high school. No one magically matures overnight and goes from being a snot-nosed brat to a sophisticated adult. Try as you might, it just isn’t the way things go.
College is essentially just high school on steroids. The cliques are more exclusive, padded with unwritten rules and covert acts of initiation. Bullies are more subtle, if not more vicious. And the gossip? Well, the gossip is just as venomous, and news spreads just as fast.
Today’s item of interest is one for the books: The big breakup between the campus crush and the golden boy who bagged her. How they ended things rather abruptly. And how they’re both already dating different people only three weeks later.
“Apparently, you cheated on him,” Nobara tells you, pulling out the lollipop she has in her mouth. “Or you cheated on him. It depends on who you ask.”
“I heard that you were sleeping with a professor,” Maki says.
You frown at her, adjusting your bag on your shoulders. “Yaga?”
“No.” She grins. “Gakuganji.”
You gag at the thought. Which sicko came up with that? Probably Kento, you think. The prick.
The three of you are on your way to a meeting for a pre-law society you joined back in your first year. You’re not quite sure you want to be a lawyer and Maki’s made it clear that she’s just in it for the parties, but as Nobara says, it’s for the connections.
A lot of college has felt like a complete scam to you, if you’re being honest. The classes are fine enough and you occasionally meet interesting people, but for the most part, you’re well-aware that everyone here’s either just coasting or trying to one-up one another. You can’t complain though. In the end, you’re a part of it all.
“I heard something interesting though,” Nobara says, and there’s a dangerous tone in her voice that has you crawling out of your skin. “More than a few people are saying that you’re dating someone new.”
Maki nods, looking at you with a raised brow. “I heard that too.”
“Someone from the business department apparently,” Nobara adds. “Someone you’re incredibly close with.”
You swallow as your two friends turn to you for an answer to their accusations. You and Sukuna made your sham relationship “official” just a few days ago and you haven’t had the time to tell either of them about it. If you’re being honest, you’ve been avoiding the topic for as long as humanly possible because you already know what they’re going to say about the whole thing.
It’s one thing for you to be friends with him despite their clear dislike of him, it’s an entirely different thing to be dating him. To the public’s knowledge at least.
“I was going to tell you guys about that,” you say quietly.
Nobara gapes, dropping her lollipop on the ground. “You’re fucking with us.”
“Before you say anything—”
“Holy shit!” Maki exclaims. She stops in her tracks and grabs your shoulders, shaking you as if to shock some sense into your system. “No. You’re not doing this.”
“I know Satoru fucked you up, but this is not the way to deal,” Nobara tells you. Her arms are flailing around as she tries to get her point across. She probably thinks you’re in too deep, madly in love with the asshole she’s done nothing but warn you about. “Where’s your phone? You’re breaking up with him right now.”
You can’t help but laugh at your friends’ hysterics. Much to their horror.
Maki’s grip on your tightens. “This is serious, babe. It’s not happening.”
“Will you just let me speak?” you say, the laughter shaking your voice. “I’m not dating Sukuna.”
They both let out a sigh of relief.
“But I am pretending to.”
“What kind of fucked up game are you playing?” Maki demands. She’s let go of you now at least. That’s something. “Explain, bitch.”
You roll your eyes and continue walking straight ahead, forcing the two of them to hurry along after you. “It’s just a thing we’re doing,” you say. “It’s basically a joke.”
Nobara groans. “Well, it’s not funny,” she says. “Why are you doing this?”
“I dunno,” you tell her. “I’m petty, I guess.”
They’re clearly displeased with your non-answer. You realize that it was more than ridiculous trying to hide it from them in the first place. There’s really nothing to hide.
“We went to a party over the weekend,” you say. “And Satoru was there… with Kimi.”
Maki purses her lips, but you can tell that she understands. She understands you more than she wants to. She was there with you before the breakup, she saw how much the whole thing had been weighing on you, and she was there immediately after it happened. She saw just how badly the whole thing wrecked you. She knows that you’re being stupid, but she also knows you.
It’s Nobara who scowls and shakes her head. It’ll take more than that to convince her.
“So?” she says. “Then date one of the many guys who throw themselves at your feet. Or get a girl! You’re due for a girl. Pick literally anyone else but him.”
You chuckle at her insistence, draping your arm over her shoulder and squeezing her against you. “I don’t want anything real right now,” you tell her. “All those people want a real relationship that I’m just not ready for, and they don’t deserve to be led on. Besides, Sukuna’s the only one I trust to do something this stupid with.”
“See, that’s how I know you’re fucked in the head,” she says. “You cannot trust a guy like Sukuna. He’s an ass.”
“He’s also my best friend.”
Nobara hangs her head at that. “You know, I wish I’d met you sooner,” she tells you. “Then, I would’ve gotten you away from that asshole before he got his fangs in.”
“I know him,” you say, leaning your head against her. “You gotta trust me on this.”
She wraps her arm around your waist and holds you tight for a moment, then sighs. “If he tries anything stupid though, I will kill him.”
“I’ll help,” Maki says. She goes in front of you, walking backwards so she can keep her eyes on yours. “You’re sure about this?”
You nod, reaching your hand out to grab hers. “I’m sure,” you say. “And it’s only for a month. I’ll probably be ready to move onto something real by then.”
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The meeting has been going on for hours. They’re not usually this bad when all you have to talk about is a fundraiser or a seminar or a statement against the school administration or something menial like that. But the agenda today is loaded.
The trip.
The big trip that everyone in the society always gets worked up over. It’s the big event of the year, a weekend where the whole group goes somewhere new and gets completely wasted. 
It isn’t enough that you do charity work or contribute to the campus life like any other club would. It isn’t enough that you all see each other on a weekly basis to party at someone’s house or head to a bar together. To truly make the “connections” that Nobara speaks of, you have to relocate everyone to a beach or camp in the mountains or get locked together in a cabin in the woods.
It’s for bonding, they say. But with how everyone’s arguing right now, you’re almost worried that the whole group is just going to end up hating each other. Just another part of the college experience as they say.
“We are not going to an active volcano for our trip,” Utahime says. “It’s stupid and, honestly, not fun at all.”
Mahito huffs at that. “What’s more fun than knowing that we could die at any moment?” he asks like it’s a completely normal thing to say. “You guys just want to go to the beach again and that’s boring.”
“Where would we even sleep?” Aoi points out.
Utahime nods and looks at Mahito with venom in her eyes. “Exactly.”
“As if anyone sleeps on these trips anyway.”
You raise your hand. “I vote against the volcano.”
“So where would you have us go?” Mahito asks. “Kento’s house?”
The man in question scoffs. “As if I would ever let you in my house.”
“I think the beach is fine,” Nobara says. “We always have fun there anyway.”
“We went there last year though,” you say against your better judgment. When Nobara looks at you like, How are you not siding with me on this? You mouth a quick “sorry.” Then, “Camping’s fun.”
“Bugs,” Mahito.
“Oh, and you think there isn’t anything gross on a volcano?” Utahime.
“What about Aoi’s cabin?” Kento.
“My dad just sold it.” Aoi.
“I vote beach.” Maki.
“Thank you!” Nobara.
The conversation goes round and round. Everyone has an opinion, everyone has something to say, everyone has something they don’t like or don’t want to do. It seems like the whole thing will never end.
“Ski trip,” you say suddenly. The room goes silent. “We’ve never been before, and it’s doable. The budget’s pretty good this year. I think we could swing it.”
Everyone looks at Kento, the keeper of the books, as he turns to his laptop to crunch the numbers. After a moment of typing, he looks up and nods.
“It’ll have to be after the children’s rights fundraiser though,” he says. “We have to make sure we can make the downpayment on the hall for the kids, but after that…”
Everyone looks at Utahime now, the club president who has the final word on everything. “Fine,” she says eventually. “Ski trip it is.”
There’s a round of “finally”s and “fuck yeah”s and patting each other on the back for a job well-done.
“Now, about the children’s rights fundraiser,” Utahime says. “We should really start planning that.”
Everyone groans and there’s eventually a call for a five-minute break.
“We should really kick Mahito out at this point,” Nobara whispers to you as she rests her head on the table. “He doesn’t even do his job half of the time.”
You pat her head and laugh. “He’s harmless,” you tell her, getting up from your seat. “I’m gonna go pee.”
“I’ll come,” Maki says, following you out the door.
The two of you link your hands together and swing them wildly as you make your way to the restroom, a habit you two formed in freshman year when you refused to be suffocated by the crowds of people going from classroom to classroom. Despite seeming like two completely different kinds of people on the surface, the two of you are just menaces at heart. It’s why you’re such good friends.
As you approach the restroom, you can hear a group of girls talking loudly inside.
“Locker room talk,” Maki says, wiggling her eyebrows at you with a smirk on her lips.
You snort, the voices becoming clearer now.
“You’re so lucky.”
“Is he good in bed?”
“He’s lucky to have you.”
“You guys are so embarrassing.”
You stop in your tracks. The last voice is so familiar, terrifyingly so. It’s a voice you’ve heard from a few feet away. In front of you in a line. In the back of a classroom. On the court, counting out the timing for the next steps of the cheerdance.
“He’s really sweet though,” the voice says. “Just this morning, he showed up at my dorm with a bunch of flowers. He said he got them ‘just because.’”
Maki is watching you with concern, confused by why you’ve suddenly stopped moving, why your breath has seemed to hitch in your throat.
Just because.
A bouquet of now-wilted flowers on your kitchen counter. A teddy bear from a carnival tucked beneath your bed. A tennis racket you made him swear not to buy that showed up in your locker one morning before practice. Just because.
The restroom door swings open and four girls walk out. One of them—
“Kimi.”
The name slips from your mouth before you even realize it. You want the earth to swallow you whole at this moment. For the current to drag you under. For the heavens to crack open.
The girl looks at you with wide eyes. Guilt, you can tell. Pity.
She says your name this time. “Hi,” she says a little nervously. “How are you?”
Just like Maki, her friends watch the situation unfold from a careful distance. Will one of you lunge at the other? Will you pretend to be the best of friends? Should they come closer? Should they stay back?
“I’m doing well,” you tell her. The voice that comes out of you doesn’t feel like your own. You only realize now that you’re smiling. There’s a hint of smugness to it, a hint of callousness, cruelty. “I take it you and Satoru are going strong.”
She seems to catch your tone. Unintentional of course, but she doesn’t know that. All trepidation seems to leave her body, replaced by a similar coldness. “Yeah, we are,” she says. “I hear you and Sukuna are an item now.”
You try not to cringe at the implication. You’ve traded Satoru, the golden boy, for Sukuna, the bad idea. No point regretting it now.
“Yeah,” you say. End this now, you think. “Well, Maki and I have a meeting to get back to.”
“Oh, sure,” she says sweetly, stepping out of your way. Her friends follow suit. “See you around.”
You take Maki’s hand and wave at the girl as she passes by. “See you.”
The two of you walk into the restroom and let the door close behind you. You’re looking at each other now, breathing deeply as you hear the girls outside walk away.
“That was fucking insane,” Maki finally says.
“Tell me about it.”
You both burst out laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation. It’s not a big deal, if you’re thinking logically, seeing your ex’s new girlfriend in a restroom. You all go to the same school, it’s not like you can avoid each other. Still, the whole thing brings out a viciousness in you that you can’t quite control, one that’s always ridiculous in hindsight.
You go into the bathroom stalls, still laughing.
“You were so cold,” Maki tells you from the stall beside you. “I was so proud, you wouldn’t believe it.”
“I was mean!” you exclaim. You groan as you reach for the toilet paper. “She’s so telling him about that.”
“No way. It’d be embarrassing.”
You pull your pants up and head out to wash your hands in the sink, waiting for Maki to finish. “She knows about Sukuna.”
“Yeah,” she says. “How do you feel about that?”
“Humiliated.”
She steps out of the stall and washes her hands in the sink beside yours. “You still think the whole pretend-dating thing is worth it?”
You shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s done is done,” you tell her. “Sunk cost, baby.”
Maki dries her hand and looks at you seriously now. “Are you okay?”
Just because.
The words echo in your head. Words that have only ever been spoken to you now tainted by her voice.
“No,” you tell her. When she looks at you with furrowed brows, all you can do is shrug. “But I’ll have to be.”
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notes. a little insight into reader's student life and bit of her bitchy side 👀 these chapters are getting longer than i'm used to lmao i fear the plot is getting away from me and just dragging me along for the ride at this point
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