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xmalereader · 4 months

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PS5 Peter Parker x Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

REQUEST: May I request a PS5 Peter Parker x Male Reader. The reader and Peter used to be a thing when they were in high school but, they didn't work due to Peter's distance and cold because of him being spiderman especially when aunt May died. Years later, they encountered each other, the reader achieved his dream of being a writer, he wrote a book about him and unexpectedly, Peter came to his convention. Peter has been following the reader ever since they broke up, he always checks up on what he was doing daily without him. He visited the reader's convention hoping for a closure and confessed that he still loves the reader.

TAG: @jihanbang

WC: 4.7K

CONTENT/WARNINGS: Fluff, angst, mentions of high school sweethearts, age gap ( one year difference ), Peter is angsty, reader is a writer, break ups and make ups, request made, insomniac Peter Parker, Spider-Man, some mature language, memories, childhood, high school memories. Peter POV, OOC Peter Parker.

NOTES: I may have gone a little overboard with this one, but I don’t care. I’ve actually been planning on writing an angsty Peter about ex lovers and all and when I saw your request I just had to write it right away. I was gonna keep it short but instead took it further almost 5k! (°▽°), but anyways I enjoyed writing this and put it as Peter perspective. I hope you enjoy this shot because I know I did!

Peter stares at the poster board plastered on the front window of the cities famous bookstore that he’d been passing by on the way out of F.E.A.S.T. He wasn’t much of a reader when it came towards books of fantasy or romance and would much rather have his nose stuck between the pages of a physics and engineering book, but he’d for sure read this new one coming out soon. His eyes drift over to the authors picture, staring at the smiling man and taking in their appearance. How long has it been since he’s last seen that smile?

Peter remembers the first time he saw that smile.

He was sixteen years old and freshly new to high school near his aunt May’s place. He’d grown nervous and anxious at the idea of starting his first year of his last three years of education before collage could even start, he remembers arriving late on his first day, flustered and embarrassed when walking into his first period only to have everyone laugh at him when the teacher points out his tardiness to the whole class.

He was embarrassed, but also lucky enough to get a seat in the back of the classroom where no one would see him. The only difference was that the only spot avaliable was next to the schools president who was a year older than Peter and the only Junior in his first period class. Peter always steered away from class representatives having experience their egos back in middle school. The good thing was that he didn’t have to deal with it all day and only for the first hour of school.

Until he found out that the president was in all of his classes, meaning that he would be seeing the kid for the whole school year and being partnered with him in various projects together. When he was first partnered with the class president he figured that he would be the only one doing the project and getting them an easy A only to get the total opposite from him.

Peter was surprised when Y/n sat next to him during class, shoulders bumping as he opens their textbooks and began to plan out their project and what subject they should look into along with figuring out where to meet up and when to get started. Peter didn’t think that the class president would actually help him out or put the work into their project.

He figured that he was only being nice because he was the schools star until he started following Peter everywhere. He’d invite him to eat lunch together or even drag him to the library in order to get started on their project it wasn’t until Peter actually freaked out when Y/n followed him home, thinking that he was being stalked and gained the confidence to stick up to the president, glaring at the junior and asking him why he was following him and claiming him to be a stalker.

Only for Y/n to laugh at Peters accusations and quickly clear up the problem by telling him that he actually lived in the same street as him, pointing out to the house just a few blocks down from Peters aunts place. Lets just say that Peter was embarrassed that day.

It wasn’t until their time together became a routine.

Y/n would be waiting for Peter every morning in order to walk to school together, visiting his place and joining his and aunt Mays dinner nights and keeping them company. There time together almost everyday caused a strange feeling to bloom deep down inside of Peter, questioning himself as to why he was feeling this way whenever he was around Y/n.

Peter liked science and like a scientist he had to experiment.

So, the teen started the process. His mornings with Y/n on the way to school were normal the two always talking about class work that was left unfinished or Y/n telling Peter about the different ideas he had in mind for the students and making sure that the year ends perfectly for everyone. There lunch together was also normal with Peter sitting across from Y/n as he eats his chocolate pudding, staring at the other teen who also eats his lunch and passing Peter his own pudding cup.

Y/n knew that Peter liked the schools chocolate pudding and always gave him his each time they got it for lunch without even having to offer it and Peter would easily take it without hesitation and eat a spoonful while they continued to converse.

Peter didn’t get that familer feeling anymore and figured that he was possibly just sick that day. Only to get that same feeling again when their both sitting in his bedroom after finishing up their project with Y/n rambling to Peter about his writing and the amount of ideas he had in mind while showing his drafts, sitting so close to each other that they can feel each others breaths.

That’s when Peter discovered that he was crushing on the class president.

Which resulted into Peter screaming into his pillow that night after going to bed. He couldn’t be crushing on Y/n out of all people why him? Since his discovery he was much more careful around Y/n, cutting their time together, leaving earlier than him in the mornings to the point that he had to fake being sick in order to avoid seeing him.

It didn’t take long for Y/n to notice Peter avoiding him and he wasn’t one to let things drag on. The day that Peter arrived to school an hour early in order to avoid Y/n he didn’t expect himself to be grabbed by the back of his backpack and dragged inside the janitors closet. He panics at first until he’s face to face with Y/n, staring at him with wide eyes and noticed how angry he looked.

“You’re avoiding me.”

Peter chuckled nervously while shrugging. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the crap, Peter.”

Peter can’t help but wince softly by his stern voice, avoiding eye contact when he feels his heart race, noticing how close Y/n is being while he continues to talk.

“You’re always leaving earlier than me in the mornings which is funny because your always waking up late and I have to be the one to wake you up—you stopped eating lunch with me and your always taking sick days which never happens because you hate missing school and you never get sick!” He continued to ramble on, losing Peter half way when he’s staring at him with admiration. The fact that Y/n not only noticed Peters avoidance but also pointed out the smallest things about him that not many people knew about, not even his aunt did.

“—and then you leave me behind after school when we always walk back home together and you don’t answer my texts! So, I figured that I’d corner you before school started in order to get answers.”

Peter is pulled from his thoughts and focused back on Y/n, staring at him as he stands before him with crossed arms and a frown on his face and a raised brow, waiting for an answer.

“It’s complicated.”

“Bullshit.”

Y/n was quick to respond, surprising Peter.

The two are staring each other down until Y/n sighs in defeat, frown softening while breaking contact and rubbing his temples. “Look, I won’t push you to tell me but can I least ask…did I do something to make you act this way?” His voice is filled with concern which only makes Peter quickly speak up. “No! No you didn’t do anything its…” He hesitates to speak, growing afraid and anxious by how Y/n will react when confessing his feelings.

He’s afraid to lose the person he really cares for, but he can’t always keep his feelings bottled up.

“Peter—?”

“I like you.”

Y/n’s breath hitched when hearing Peters confession, eyes full of surprise and with a gaped mouth. Before he could say anything Peter continues on. “I didn’t know until I started being around you more often and ever time I’m around you my hearts races and my stomach makes me feel like I want to throw up. I was avoiding you because I was afraid of how you’d react if you found out and I thought it would be better for me to keep my distance in hopes of getting rid of these feelings, but it only made me feel worse.”

Peter would think that Y/n would reject him and possibly leave him alone in the closet, ending their friendship after confessing. He didn’t think that he’d pulled into a kiss, warm hands cupping his cheeks and soft lips against his own. Peters eyes were wide in and face going red, he wasn’t only full of surprise but it was also his first kiss.

“You’re an idiot if you didn’t think i’d feel the same way.” Y/n says against Peters lips when breaking apart.

From that moment on the two started dating.

Peter expected the entire school to find out that their popular Vice president was dating him only to get nothing due to them keeping their relationship private. Y/n wanted to continue enjoying his time with Peter in school without being bombarded with questions by the various popular students who liked him. The two had their peace for the first year until graduation neared.

During Y/n’s last year of school he had told everyone that he wasn’t running for president for his Senior year and instead with the extra time he had he spent it at Peters place after school. The two would listen to each others talk passionately about what they loved with Peter talking fondly about his science projects and him listening to Y/n ramble on about his writing and his book ideas that he’s noted down for Peter to read and critique.

Everything was going well until it wasn’t.

Before Peter and Y/n officially started dating he focused on his duties as the cities hero, never having to worry about keeping it a secret from anyone else but his Aunt only to find out that he’d have to eventually tell Y/n about it which only freaked him out. He couldn’t allow him to know due to the fear of ruining their relationship and perhaps putting him in danger if things were to get bad as he continued to be the cities hero.

So, little by little Peter became distant towards Y/n.

Coming up with excuses as to why he didn’t want to go out to the point that arguments started over the smallest things. Peter wanted to keep Y/n close to him but the fear of being discovered as to why he’s always late to their small dates caused him to make the worst decision ever. It was the week before senior graduation that he broke up with Y/n, making up a lie that he didn’t want to hold him back when he’s in college and should have the freedom to be with other people who were far better than him.

Peter couldn’t even look him in the eyes when he utters those words and instead runs away like a coward.

That same night he had cried himself to sleep, feeling devastated and broken by his poor decision but also telling himself that it was for the best. Peter avoided Y/n on the days that he tried to talk to him, coming over to his aunts place to try and have a conversation only to be pushed away, keeping himself busy with his Spider-Man duties and spending more time in the city.

It wasn’t until after graduation that Y/n moves out of his parents place and got himself an apartment on the other side of the city, far away from Peter. He didn’t have to worry about going outside and bumping into his ex each time he checked the mail or took out the trash even though Peter wished to see him again he knew it’s was better to stay away.

Even after twelve years he couldn’t stop thinking about the man.

As the years went on he had found Y/n on social media, checking in on his profile every few weeks and taking notice of the various pictures that are posted along with interviews and conventions about his book that is to be released soon. Peter didn’t want to look like a stalker checking his ex’s socials, but can’t help himself and do it.

After returning back home from F.E.A.S.T he didn’t expect to find MJ working in the living room. Even though the two were close friends she had recently moved in with him as a way of saving some money and making living easier for the both of them.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked when enter the house and closing the door behind him while heading towards the kitchen to make himself something to eat while he listened to MJ type away on her computer. “Just on a new article.” She answers and looks up from her computer to see Peter searching the fridge. MJ took the opportunity to close her laptop and rush over to Peter with a smirk on his face.

“An article about what?” Peter closed the fridge after taking out the orange juice and slightly jolts by MJ’s sudden close appearance, startling him and sighing deeply.

“About Y/n.”

Peter froze at the familiar name.

Even though him and MJ had been friends for years he hadn’t told her or Harry about his past relationship with Y/n he never even mentioned dating someone when he was with them. He wasn’t ashamed he just didn’t want to bring up something he regrets ruining.

“The author?” He stutters out and focused back on pouring himself a drink and setting the carton of orange juice aside while he listened to MJ. “Yeah! I got to interview him about his book and he was very nice.” She went on about her time with Y/n. “Oh! He actually gave me a copy of his book before the release date and I took today to start reading it, I’m half way through but I really like it. I think its kind of cute that he turned his life story into a little fairy tale of his own.” She chuckled while approaching the living room where she picks up the book.

Peters eyes land on the cover page and watched her open the book to where she left off, his eyes averting as he focused on drinking his juice.

“Check this out! While I was reading it I noticed that the love interest has the same name as you.”

Peter chokes on his juice.

Spitting and coughing by the action.

“Are you okay?” MJ approached him, patting his back as she looks at him with worry only for Peter to reassure her that he’s fine and that he choked on his juice, claiming that he was drinking to face when in reality he was shocked by MJ’s words.

“Can I see?” He points towards the open book that she left open on the counter. “sure.” Her approval is all he needed for him to pick up the book and scan the pages, eyes moving back and forth as he read a few paragraphs and noticed how familiar the sounded to him. He doesn’t realize how engrossed he is that MJ clears her throat. “You can borrow it if you want, although you don’t look like the kind of guy who reads this sort of stuff.” She teased, earning a small laugh from Peter.

“You’d be surprised.” He gives off a faint smile, checks turning red as he closed the book. “Would it be alright for me to borrow it? I won’t move your bookmark.” He said.

MJ chuckled while nodding her head. “You can borrow it, just make sure to give it back once your done. I want to know what happens next.”

Peter promises MJ that he’ll return it once he’s finished.

He doesn’t read it right away and instead waits until sunset when he’s getting ready for bed, finally getting the peace and quiet that he needs before he takes the book from his nightstand and stares at the cover, growing nervous by the second until he finally decides to open the book.

Peter spends the entire night reading Y/n’s writing and realizing that his story is a reflection of their past relationship only with a few changes here and there, but it felt like Peter was watching a movie about his past and the things that both he and Y/n did together. He remembers the amount of drafts and ideas that Y/n wold show Peter and how he struggled to write a good story. He remembers Y/n telling him that he wanted a story that his readers would actually enjoy a story that will pull them in to the point where they are begging for more.

The story is written in Y/n’s perspective, obviously using a different name for the character he’s writing about. It’s the way that the words are perfectly written for him to understand and remember those days of them being together. It all came crawling back to him as he nears the end only to find out that the ending was different.

Instead of both characters breaking up the story continues on with Y/n’s perspective of his life in college, not giving much detail about what happened to the relationship and ending with him finding joy in writing. Which leaves Peter questioning himself, why?

When he completes the book he sets it aside sitting in silence and thinking about everything that happened between the two. He thinks about the first time they kisses, their first date, the first time that Y/n convinced Peter to sneak out to a party, the time that Y/n snuck inside Peters bedroom window as the two snuck around like teenagers would.

He also thinks about their break up and how scared he was to even look at Y/n when ending it between the two.

It was obvious that he still loved him and after twelve years he couldn’t let go.

—

Peter shouldn’t be here.

He shouldn’t be at this convention when he clearly told himself that he’d keep his distance and yet, here he stands in a line full of fans that came to see Y/n and get their books signed. His hand gripped a copy of the book, growing anxious each time the line got closer only to chicken out every time he gets close and head back to the end of the line.

His anxiety washed away every time he got to the back of the line and did this almost five times until the line was cut short when announced that this was Y/n’s hour before leaving, meaning that Peter couldn’t turn back nor could he avoid confrontation. His heart raced as the line moved closer, keeping his head down in hopes of avoiding getting attention. He found out that he was the last one in line which would make the whole situation less awkward between the two.

He wouldn’t be holding anyone back and could leave whenever he can without a problem.

That was until his turn came up.

After the young girl in front of him gets her book signed and goes along her day he noticed Y/n turning around in order to get another marker due to the last one running out of ink, not noticing Peter when he approached the table. He slides the book in front of Y/n and when he turns back around his focus is on the book first, smiling as he flips it open.

“Sorry about that my last maker ran out and had to get a new one! But, good thing your the last I’m in no rush!” He chuckled out, being friendly as always as he flips to the front page where he signs his name. “who am I signing this for?”

Peter hesitates.

“Peter Parker.”

He noticed Y/n freeze mid signature, looking up slowly to face Peter.

After twelve years Y/n hadn’t changed a bit, his hair was still the same and so was his sense of fashion, remembering when he was teased for wearing a coat the minute fall started even though it wasn’t even cold outside yet.

The two stare at each other in silence only for Peter to break the tension between them. “I liked your book.”

Y/n blinks at him, focusing back on the book and clearing his throat while he nods. “Thanks…” He finished signing the book and closed the cover, sliding the book back to Peter while avoiding eye contact.

Peter wanted to wince, but it was expected. He ended things terribly between them and didn’t blame Y/n for avoiding him. As he reached out to take the book back into his hand he lets his fingers trace over the binding the tension between them growing even more as they remain silent amongst themselves.

“Why did you end it like that?”

Peters question gets Y/n’s attention, finally looking at him with a confused look. “What?”

“The story, why did you end it like that?”

Y/n licks his lips. “Because I thought it fit well.”

“Even when you know what the ending was really like?”

Peter wasn’t trying to judge his writing or criticize the ending, he was simply confused as to why he ended it when him sounding like everything was fine when in reality the ending would have been different if he had added their break up into it.

Y/n doesn’t know what to say, remaining silent as he stands from his seat and tried to keep himself distracted by cleaning up his area and pouting things away. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I know what its really about.” Peter speaks up, taking a step forward and setting the book down on the table as he watched Y/n collect his things. “You’ve showed me your writing before and I know how much you like being honest in your stories—“

“Not everything has to be true.” Y/n blurts out getting Peters attention who gets cut off mid conversation while looking at the man that he knew loved to write stories with passion who’d quickly pull out his phone the minute an idea came to minute and would note it down for later.

“What do you mean?”

His question causes Y/n to really look at him. “Yes, the story is about us and yes I changed the ending, but that doesn’t mean that everything is true. If you want the truth then I am more than happy to tell you the truth.” He glares at Peter while shoving his jacket inside his bag. “The truth is that I was miserable in college, I hated that place and the people who were there with me. I didn’t care for anyone and I stopped writing for years because every time I sit down and pick up a pen and start writing I can’t help but think about you all the time and that stupid smile on your face. I found it hard to visit my family knowing that you lived just a few blocks down.”

Peters heart races when listening to his explanation.

“So I figured, why not write our story the way I always thought it would be like?”

By the time he was done talking he had finished getting his things, giving peter one last look before leaving, brushing past Peter and making his way towards the exit while Peter stood back and watched. He felt like he was losing him all over again telling himself that it wasn’t worth it and to move on like he has been in the last twelve years, but after reading his book after getting the truth as to why he wrote it he knows he can’t sit back this time and watch as the person he still loves slip away from him.

So, Peter is quick to react. He’s rushing after Y/n and running out of the bookstore, looking both ways until his eyes land on Y/n who walked further up ahead. He’s running after him, chasing down the man and grabbing him by the arm and he pulls him into an alley way, perhaps not the best place but the only one that can give them some privacy from the public eye.

“what are you—!?”

“I’m sorry.” Peter cuts in.

“Peter—“

“No, let me finish.” He cuts in again, this time letting go of Y/n’s arm. “I’m tired of running and I’m tired of letting the best thing get away from me. I know what I did to you was horrible and it was the most dick thing I could ever to do and yes, you should be mad at me and you should hate me for it, but I never stopped thinking about it. You have no idea how many times I wanted to reach out and apologize but every time I thought about it I couldn't help but think about how I ended things and I regret everything about it.”

Y/n sighs softly, eyes softening as he leans back against the wall. “Then answer me this, why did you end things?”

Peter froze, the familiar fear crawling back to him.

“Because I.,,” He couldn’t speak. “Because I was afraid to lose you if I told you the truth. I was afraid that you’d possibly stop liking me or end things with me first before anything else.” He was rambling at this point knowing that he wasn’t telling him everything and was still avoiding the truth.

“Peter,” Y/n’s voice is enough to bring him back. “The truth, now.” His tone grew stern, glaring this time.

Peter sighs in defeat. “I didn’t break up with you because of you going to college, I broke up with you because I was afraid of telling you that I’m Spider-Man…” He finally says the words, finally revealing the truth. He expects Y/n to laugh at him or perhaps walk away without a word only to hear the most jaw dropping thing ever.

“I knew.”

‘you knew—how?”

Y/n laughed at Peters shock. “Peter I was always paying attention. I knew that something wasn’t right when you grew distant with me and I didn’t realize until I found your suit hidden under your bed. I didn’t want to believe that my boyfriend was Spider-Man until I started piecing everything together.” He explains to Peter. “You were always late to our dates, ditching classes which you never do, I even noticed the amount of muscles you gained when we were in gym together.”

Peter blushed at the last statement not realizing how much Y/n stared at him each time he changed in front of him.

“If you knew why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to freak you out and instead I decided to wait until you were ready to tell me…and this is the results.” He points a finger between the two, realizing that this all caused them to break up even when he already knew. Peter felt even worse now that he knew the truth, wanting to punch himself and feeling ashamed of himself.

While Peter cursed at himself for everything, Y/n speaks up with a small smile on his face. “So you thought about me?” Peter blushed at his comment. “Yeah.” He answers honestly, staring at the man who chuckled. “You wrote a book about me.”

“Technically it wasn’t about you it was about us.”

“Still counts,”

Y/n can only laugh which makes Peter smile feeling like teenagers again. Their laughter and smiles bring them back memories of their time together and perhaps they can make new ones

#male reader #Peter parker x male reader #Peter Parker #marvel x male reader #Spider-Man x male reader #Spider-Man #insomniac spider man #peter parker ps5 x male reader #PS5 Spiderman #Insomniac Peter Parker

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vixstarria · 6 months

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Another gift

This is a continuation of my headcanon of Astarion’s romance with bard Tav. I can’t remember the actual chronology of cutscenes, but let’s assume this takes place after you’ve started a sexual relationship with Astarion and are beginning to grow closer. I was going to take it in a different direction initially, but these things have a mind of their own once they get going.

If you like it, check out my first fic. I do plan on writing more!

P.S. I may have taken some liberties with the game background story and DnD lore and magic system here – if it doesn’t really match up or make sense – sorry! Also I’m still only on Act 2.

Tav tries to comfort or distract a brooding Astarion.

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav

Comfort, fluff, budding love, humour, angst, banter, no spoilers, non-explicit

Approximately 2,000 words.

Astarion was standing outside his tent with his back to the camp, staring into a silver mirror. The man had either lost his vampiric condition, lost his mind, or was simply brooding.

“Looking at something?” he asked absent-mindedly, as you approached.

Brooding. Definitely brooding.

“Looking for something.”

“Oh?” He turned towards you. “Just my company, or is there something else I can offer you?”

“I'm the one making an offering, actually. I thought I’d bring you a little snack”

Astarion grinned and beckoned you inside his tent.

Inside, aside from his bedroll, was a trunk with a large mirror opposite, a lit lantern and a scattering of weapons, equipment and books. You assumed your usual position, cross-legged on the bedroll, and offered him your wrist. This didn’t take long. Just a little pick me up.

He finished, planting a light kiss on your wrist, reached for his amulet and whispered an incantation to heal the wound. He kept hold of your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

“Do you have any idea how much I appreciate that you don’t sexualise this?”

“I haven’t thought about it... Really?”

“Well imagine that any time you went to, say, take a bite of a turkey leg, there was someone staring, groping themselves and wagging their tongue at you. When you’re just trying to perform basic functions to stay alive.”

“Sweetheart, that’s an average evening at the pub for me, when I perform. With or without me biting on anything. ...But I see what you mean”. You contemplated what he just said in a brief silence. “I can't believe you just compared me to a turkey leg.”

“You’re more of a ripe, juicy peach” he said. You found yourself oddly pleased to be compared to fruit rather than poultry.

You glanced at the large mirror standing on the floor of the tent.

“You own an awful lot of mirrors for a vampire. Why do you even keep this here?”

“That? Oh, it reflects light... makes the tent appear more spacious... prevents anyone from sneaking up on me. ...Unless they’re another vampire.” Astarion said contemplatively. “And I figured, I woke up once with a tadpole in my brain that let me walk in the sun again – who's to say I won’t catch another parasite tomorrow that might cure my vampirism entirely?”

“Do you miss it? Seeing your own face?”

“Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity? Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red. My face is just some dark shape in my past. Another thing I’ve lost. I wouldn’t even recognise myself anymore. It’s been two hundred years.”

“But...” you fumbled, trying to wrap your mind around that. “You could have found a street artist to sketch you since then.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Or commissioned a portraitist, those artistic types would accommodate you any time of day or night”

“Commissioned a - …I’m sorry, at what point did I give you the impression that Cazador paid us an allowance..?” Astarion was growing agitated. “And before you say I could have stolen – remember, everything I had, anything I acquired by any means, the clothes on my back, my body, my will – it all belonged to the master.” He paused, regaining control of his demeanour. “There was no point in having any possessions, it would all be the bastard’s in the end. I didn’t want to give him any more than I absolutely had to.”

You kicked yourself in the ass mentally.

“Well how’s this... We get to Baldur’s Gale. We exterminate Cazador and take over his palace. Then we rip out whatever he’s got as décor, commission all the best artists, and hang paintings of you on every wall. There will be nothing but portraits of Astarion everywhere.” Astarion’s eyes softened as he watched you gesticulating and getting carried away by your own imagination. “Astarion in shining armour. Astarion on a horse. Astarion on silk bedsheets, half-covered in rose petals. Pirate Astarion. Astarion stroking a cat. Historic events, but every single person depicted is Astarion. Oh! And in the main banquet hall, there will be an enormous mural of you, fully naked, lounging on a divan and being fed grapes by a cadre of nymphs.”

“With a fig leaf covering my unmentionables?”

“A comically large fig leaf. Or better yet, no fig leaf, just your full unmentionable glory looming over the dining table” You paused, as if sobering up after being lost in your grand vision, and added in a more serious tone: “We can commission busts and statues, too. Get a mold of your face for a hyper-realistic one.”

“We” he whispered, as if to himself, with a scornful chuckle.

“Oh? Do you have someone else in Baldur’s Gate you’d rather spend time with?” You realised how callous that might have come across as soon as the words were out, and cringed inwardly.

“...No, I don’t” he said absently.

“Elves live long lives... Do you still have real family there? Friends from... before? ...A spouse? Children?” You'd wondered about this before, and figured you may as well lie in the hole you’d dug for yourself.

“Gods, no!” Astarion blinked in surprise. “I wasn’t even considered a full adult by elven society then. No, mercifully I didn’t leave any little Astarions behind. All my friends from my youth are either dead or have blissfully forgotten me. And I don’t even know where my family is.”

You gave him a sympathetic and questioning look, waiting for him to go on. He sighed and continued.

“As you might expect, Cazador placed a restriction on me, preventing me from telling anyone about my affliction. I couldn’t approach my old acquaintances and go ‘Surprise! I’m actually alive! ...Sort of. I’m just someone’s vampire spawn slave now!’. No. I was to turn around and walk the other way if I ever came upon anyone who might recognise me. I was supposed to be devoted only to my new ‘family’.” he scowled. “I feared that Cazador would use anyone he thought might be important to me against me - for fun, or to teach me a ‘lesson’. And he would have, too: the mental torture he unleashed on his spawn was far worse than physical.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t go and see my family, but as soon as I had my wits about me, I managed to arrange for one of the mercenary guilds to quickly escort my relatives out of the city. They were to be told that I made some powerful enemies who had me murdered, and that these enemies would come for them next. That they had to leave, change their names, and never return. I don’t know where they went. I can’t know, if I want them to be safe.” He looked away. “I can’t imagine how much they hated and cursed me. I ruined their lives.” he whispered.

“You saved them!” you objected, taking his hand. He shrugged but squeezed your hand back.

“I suppose I might have. Cazador would’ve left their heads on spikes in my crypt by now, otherwise.” He met your eyes again. “So yes, if anyone is going to be helping me decorate a palace, it’s you.” he added with a false cheer, clearly finished with the topic of Cazador.

You thought he might want to be alone then and were about to leave, but he gently pulled you towards himself. He was sitting on the ground with his back against a trunk. You settled between his legs, your back against his chest, his lips right at your ear, one arm across your shoulders and chest, the other playing with your hair. The large mirror was on the ground right in front of you. He studied your reflection over your shoulder. You appeared to be lounging suspended at an odd angle.

“How does it even work, anyway... It’s not just your body that disappears, it’s your clothing, too”. You grabbed a hat from the top of the trunk, holding it by its crown, and held it over Astarion’s head, moving it in circles against his hair. “Now you see it...” You let go and watched it disappear in the reflection. “Now you don’t.”

“I’m actually not sure, darling. Maybe it needs to be supported solely by me. Or it’s got to do with movement” He threw the hat back onto the trunk, where it reappeared in the reflection.

“Say...” threw your head back to look up into his eyes “Do you think my reflection would disappear... if a part of you was inside?” you bit your lip and grinned mischievously.

“I don’t think so, but I love how that dirty mind of yours works” he purred in your ear. “Let’s check and find out” His hand slid towards the clasp of your pants, but you swatted it away.

“Later.” Suddenly you were on a mission. “I have an idea.”

The rest of your group were gathered around the fire as you made a dash for your tent and grabbed your kit of stage paints and powders.

“Chk, are you doing each other’s makeup in there?” came a scoff from Lae’zel, as you rushed past.

“Don’t be jealous, Lae. We’ll have a girls night and braid each other’s hair tomorrow” you retorted, making Shadowheart choke on her drink.

Back in Astarion’s tent, you reached for one of your loose facial powders.

“You really don’t need to do anything, I’m used to it and nothing will work anyway” protested a confused and weary Astarion.

“Astarion!” you said gravely, “This isn’t for you. This is for science”, and you blew the powder hard into his face. Sure enough, an outline of his features appeared briefly in the mirror, as the powder flew all around him. “It worked!”

“Fan-tastic! Too bad you had to blind me to achieve that split second of a silhouette!” he coughed and rubbed at his eyes.

“It should work with water, too, if you want me to pour some over your head. You need to wash all that powder off anyway, you look ridiculous.”

He glared at you through the still flying powder particles and pointed a finger at your face.

“No.”

“Actually, hang on, I have a better idea.” You heard him groan into his hands behind you, as you ran back to your tent, to return with an amulet.

“So, the good news is, I am really, really bad at this.”

“If this involves setting me on fire again...”

“That was an accident. Anyway... No, this lets me create a fog cloud. Or so it should. I can just barely manage some fog tendrils. Now if I just aim them at your face...” You concentrated on the spell. Whisps of fog appeared around Astarion. “Look...” As the fog tendrils twisted in the air, you could just make out a form that they floated around, in the reflection, one unmistakably of a face.

“Well...” breathed Astarion, transfixed by the reflection, trying to make motions with his head to make the fog recoil. “It’s not much, but it’s more than I’ve seen in centuries”

“Come on” you grasped his hand. “Let’s go outside, it needs a different light and a slight breeze”

Astarion snatched his handheld mirror and followed you. He was actually eager.

Outside, Astarion spun in the whispy fog, gazing at the mirror in disbelief, as you continued to concentrate on the spell. It was actually working. Your conjuration magic was just bad enough to make the thinnest layer of fog, framing his face like a delicate mask and reflecting in the mirror. What would have been considered incredibly precise work by a wizard, was made possible entirely thanks to you borderline failing.

“That’s better... I’ll channel the fog right, you turn left against it. No, your other left! No, don’t go into the fire, you idiot, it won’t be my fault this time”

You grabbed Astarion by the hand and tried to guide him away from fire and anything he could trip over – he was paying exactly zero mind to anything around him, as he semi-stumbled in circles, looking in the mirror. Scratch ran around you, barking, excited for a new game, and eventually tripped you both.

“Another gift...” Astarion smiled at you, as Scratch did his utmost to lick his face.

Meanwhile, the group watched the two of you from a distance, dumbfounded. Lae'zel broke the silence:

“Your people have the strangest mating rituals.”

“Should I... should I tell them I can probably just cast mirror image on him? I’ve only done it on myself, but it should follow the same principle” added Gale.

“Maybe tomorrow” said Shadowheart. “Just let them enjoy this tonight.”

~~~~~

Next in series

AO3

#astarion #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic

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salteytakesonmanga · 8 months

Note

Your explanation about retconing made me think Oda's way of writing is exactly what bring people to think he has every single thing planed down from the start, even if he didn't.

The story has been going on for 20 years, and Oda himself has admitedly had ideas along the way that he added. But the fact he's still able to connect every new idea instead of having to retcon things is what makes one piece feel so perfectly planned and tied.

Anon, you innocently sent me this ask to share your thoughts and unknowingly triggered one of my rants. I’m sorry/thank you.

Anon is referring to this post.

Oda is just a good writer! He is good at the craft of writing! Even if you don’t like the story (I’m assuming you do, but for people who don’t…) it’s just WELL WRITTEN. People really aren’t used to seeing good writing anymore, to seeing tropes deployed effectively and having plot lines actually connect. This isn’t just me being cranky and old, it’s just truth. People are talking about this in film, TV, books… One Piece has been around so long that it comes from a generation of storytelling that is vastly different from our modern media landscape.

I think people are burned out on the way modern storytelling never delivers (looking at you, JJ Abrams) or constantly jerks people around to elicit a reaction, all for the sake of nabbing that viral moment. When they see Oda deploy a trope or a storytelling device they’re immediately suspicious and fearful that it’ll turn into another unsatisfying gotcha. They rush to look for proof that it’s either all part of a detailed master plan, or it’s just a cheap trick to sell more issues.

In both cases, people are looking for a reason to be LESS INVESTED in the story. If he has a master plan, they don’t need to get worried or excited because it’s all heading to some inevitable conclusion that’s been clearly telegraphed and once you’ve cracked the code then you can already tell what the ending will be, so you don’t actually have to care. If he’s winging it, then the story is just a sequence of loosely connected meaningless scenes whose only purpose is to get you hype about a plot leading nowhere, so you don’t actually have to care.

And it breaks my fucking heart.

When it comes to One Piece, so many people are insistent that One Piece is EITHER 100% planned in advance down to every minute detail, or Oda is completely winging the whole thing. But the real answer is somewhere in between, in some muddy grey area that people find really unsatisfying. They want one clear answer that they can hold up as “The Right One,” but life is not made up of black and white answers.

Honestly it makes me really sad that people can read ALL THIS - pirates are evil except actually pirates are good and the Marines are evil except the Marines are trying to protect civilians by keeping countries stable so that's good except the rulers are evil tyrants so that's bad except when they’re not and then they’re good but only sometimes and… - and what they come away with from it is, “Okay but what’s the RIGHT answer.”

The thing that makes One Piece feel like it’s so cohesive despite Oda constantly changing his mind and making shit up is that he has a very strong and clear idea about what’s actually important to the story and what’s flexible. Because he has that as a guide, he can add the Shichibukai and change Vivi from a villain to a princess and make up who Ace’s parent is without diluting what he wants to say.

That’s what it MEANS to be a writer. Foreshadowing isn’t “boring,” it’s good writing. A plot twist you didn’t see isn’t “cheap,” it’s good writing. Fleshing out a backstory isn’t “reconning,” it’s good writing.

#anon ask #asked and answered #saltey takes on one piece #sorry to bombard y'all with these walls of text #saltey says #<- is the tag to block if you don't want to see them

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pitchsidestories · 3 months

Text

Girlfriend Material II Jen Beattie x Reader

masterlist I word count: 3223

summary: in which Jen Beattie falls in love with a sports journalist who is also a single mother.

A/N: based off this request here. We hope you enjoy this one and we agree with you that Jen Beattie is really underrated. As always this is just fiction.

audio transcript of the interview with Jen Beattie for the bookproject

Jen: sips on her coffee So, how did you..?

Reader: laughs amused do I have to remind you Jen Beattie that I'm the person here asking the questions and it's about the Scottish Women’s national team?

Jen: I thought we weren’t starting yet!

Reader: You said you got your coffee in front of you and that we can start recording that conversation.

Jen: I didn’t know you meant immediately.

Reader: So now you know.

Jen: okay, sorry. I’ll let you talk now.

Reader: Thank you can see jen lifting her finger Yes?

Jen: No, sorry. I forgot I’m not allowed to ask questions.

Reader: Maybe you can ask a few so it feels more like a natural conversation? Maybe that works better for you too.

Jen: Okay, fine with me. How did you get the idea to write this?

Reader: Easy your team’s story is very intriguing and inspiring. I really wanted to cover more than a story, and, in a book, you get the chance to tell multiple of stories.

Jen: I like that. But I always think, we’re just Scotland, you know? There are more interesting teams to write about.

Reader: Yes, I get that but it might sound like a stupid reason, but I grew up in Edinburgh, so Scotland is very dear to my heart, also everyone loves the underdog.

Jen: I like that.

Reader: So, what I’m trying to say with this is you can trust me.

Jen: I do. Why would I not trust you with this topic?

Reader: Good point

Jen: See.

Reader: going back to our topic, when and how did you feel when you were getting your first call up for Scotland?

Jen: chuckles Oh that was a long time ago but as a football player you always dream of that call so as you can imagine I was very excited.

Reader: Do you remember that exact moment?

Jen: Yes, I do. I still played for Glasgow, and I almost missed the call because I started at the phone for too long.

Reader: You did?

Jen: Yes, I’m not sure what would have happened if I missed it.

Reader: I guess they would have tried it again.

Jen: Who knows, right?

Reader: I think it was meant to be.

Jen: It probably was. I’m glad I took the call though. It changed a lot for me.

Reader: This must have been a big step forward in your career.

Jen: It is. I don’t know if Arsenal would have wanted me if it hadn’t been for that call.

Reader: but Arsenal did want you. Lily entering the room Oh sorry this is my daughter Lily.

Jen: She’s adorable. Hi Lily.

Lily: Hello, are you mum’s new friend?

Reader: Actually, I’m interviewing Jen for my book.

Jen: But it’s almost something like that.

Reader: True. Can you give me five more minutes, Lil? And when we’ll go to the park to play football like I promised you earlier.

Lily: Okay.

Reader: Thanks love. Sorry, so where were we Jen?

Jen: Uhm.. oh, Arsenal.

Reader: Yes, right, you got the chance to play there.

Jen: I did. Together with my Scotland teammate.

Reader: So, you must have been very young when you made your move to London?

Jen: I was 18.

Reader: Right.

Jen: Kim was 18 too when she moved to London the year before, so I was glad to have her there too.

Reader: That’s really sweet.

Jen: We both were the youngest and now we’re the grandmas.

Reader: protests You’re not grandmas !

Jen: No but we like to joke about it.

Reader: I can see that.

Jen: With all the youngsters here.

Lily: wears a Scotland jersey Mum, I’m ready !

Reader: Shit, the five minutes are over.

Jen: You probably shouldn’t let her wait.

Reader: Sorry, that’s so unprofessional.

Jen: No worries. I understand that.

Reader: Thank you.

Jen: Have fun.

Lily: Do you want to play with us?

Jen: I would love to, but I have training. Another time, I promise.

Lily: Oh okay.

Jen: Lily?

Lily: Yes?

Jen: I mean it.

Lily: I trust you.

Jen: I’ll see you soon.

Reader: Goodbye, Jen. Thank you for taking your time.

Jen: Thank you for inviting me. And don’t forget to call me, so Lily and I can play some football.

Reader: I’ll call you. Promise.

Lily: whispers Mum, she likes you.

Reader: I think she likes you more.

Lily: But she likes you too!

Reader: Do you think so?

Lily: Yes!

Reader: When it must be true.

Lily: Its true.

The London Derby was about to start. The crowd at the Emirates was roaring with excitement. Amazed, you took in the atmosphere from the side of the pitch alongside some of the other jounalists.

Across the grass, you caught Jen’s gaze who was standing next to the tunnel in a big puffer jacket. She subtly waved at you which you answered with a small smile.

Kim Little appeared next to Jen, telling her something with a stern face. You knew the game was about to start so you turned back to your work.

“Has anyone seen Lily? Jen, you were supposed to look after the daughter of your girlfriend. “, Kim scolded Jen on the other side of the pitch. Reluctantly, Jen turned away from you and towards her teammate; “You said you would babysit.“ “After the match! I’m in the starting line up, remember?“, Kim replied, more amused than annoyed.

Laughing, Jen rolled her eyes; “Ugh, show-off.“ Her smaller team mate gave her playfully offended look; “Hey, you’re still talking to your captain here.“ “Yeh, sure. I’ll go find Lily.“, Jen answered with a grin and brushed past Kim into the dressing rooms. “Good!“, the Arsenal captain called after her.

Jen opened the door of the dressing room where the Arsenal players were just getting ready for the important game against Chelsea; “Lil?“ “Here!“, the voice of a child piped up. The little girl waved with one hand from her place between Alessia Russo and Kyra Cooney-Cross. In the other hand, she held a crumbly granola bar. Jen walked towards her, a big grin on her face; “What are you doing here? Having a snack?“

“Yes, Lessie gave me something. And Wally promised to do my hair.“, Lily nodded with pure joy. Jen ruffled her hair; “Lucky girl.“ “Comes from the one who only ever wears a bun on match days.“, Lia laughed while she pushed past Jen and took Kyras place.

Carefully, she started brushing Lilys hair. “It’s the least complicated and most effective hairstyle.“, the Scot defended herself with a shrug. Kim rolled her eyes; “And it makes you even taller than you are.“

With raised eyebrows, Jen made a point to look down at her captain; “How can you even tell that from down there?“ “Rude.“, she replied before turning towards the toddler whose hair was now in a high ponytail, “Lil?“ “Yes?“ “Tell her to stop making fun of small girls.“

Lily nodded determinedly, causing Lia to start over with braiding her little ponytail; “I’ll.“ “We’re done.“, Lia smiled a minute later, satisfied with her finished work. Lily happily jumped up on the bench, standing on her toes to eye her new hairstyle in a mirror. Laughing, Jen picked her up; “Good. Because these girls have to go out and play and important game now.“

“Good luck!”, Lily hummed. Gratefully Lia patted the shoulder of the little girl:” Thank you, Lily.” “Can you give me a hug as an extra motivation?”, Alessia asked her with a big smirk on her face. Enthusiastically Lily nodded, opening her arms up to hug the tall forward: “Of course.” That sight alone melted Jen’s heart in the blink of an eye.

In her bossy tone which was such a contrast to her relatively smallness Kim clapped motivated into her hands:” Alright girls, time to get out there.” While the playing footballers went on to the field Jen and the toddler took their seats on the bench.

Big eyed Lily pulled on the defender’s jacket: ”Jen?” “Yes?”, attentively the Scottish player put her little hand into hers. Deeply amazed Lily whispered: “This is huge.” “I know, right?”, Jen solemnly agreed. Not long into the game Beth Mead scored the first goal which made Lily jump from her seat shouting happily:” Yes, Meado!”

“Good job, Beth! She’ll be so happy about that girl.”, the defender commented with a satisfied smile. A bit less enthusiastic the girl added:” Mum told me she had a bad injury.” “Yes, she didn’t play football for almost one year.”, the Scottish Woman replied seriously.

Quite taken by that she mumbled: “ That’s forever.” “And her girlfriend Viv had the same injury.”, Jen explained the past situation to her. Moved by those words Lily observed: “That’s not fair.” “No but it happens in football.”, the defender reminded her.

The mood was lightened when the little girl was catching where the older woman’s eyes were wandering:” Jen, you keep staring at mum!” Caught of guard the Arsenal player’s cheek turned red:” I’m not I was just looking if she’s looking.” “Sure.”, Lily giggled.

After the match she ran to Alessia, telling her visibly very animated:” Lessi, your goals were soo cool!” “Thank you, Lily! You were our lucky charm today.”, the forward declared beaming.

After the live recording ended you greeted Jen with a huge grin, while she was wrapping her strong arms around you::” Hi love, did Lil behave?” “You know her of course she did. She’s too focused on the game in front of her.”, the Scottish woman answered cheerfully.

Glad about that news you changed the topic easily: “Good. Remind me, where are you taking me out tonight, again?” “You’ll see when we’re there.”, Jen smiled mysteriously. Excited about what the evening would contain you said: “I’ll be right back I’ll be just saying goodbye to Lily and tell her that it might get a bit later tonight, so she doesn’t need to try to stay awake until we’re back.” “Alright.”, with that word the Arsenal player let go of you for now.

A few minutes prior Kim wanted to know from the toddler:” Have you decided whose jersey you want, Lily?” “Can I have yours?”, she asked innocently. The captain was surprised by that wish:” Mine?” “Yes, please.”, Lily nodded quickly.

Flustered the older woman gave the little girl her jersey:” Oh, sure. Here you go.” “Thank you.”, the toddler gratefully pressed the shirt onto her. Trying not to show how touched she was Kim waved it off:” You’re welcome.”

Lily was already wearing the oversized jersey when you entered the dressing room. Your daughter happily ran into your arms. You wrapped her into a tight hug while you told her; “Hi Lily, I just wanted to say goodbye for now and that Jen and I’ll be back tonight. But I’m sure you’ll have a lot of fun with Kimmy.“

You shared a quick smile with Arsenals team captain. “Okay, have fun, Mum.“, Lily replied, obviously already distracted by what was happening around her in the dressing room. You pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before saying goodbye; “Love you, Lily.“ You could feel your daughters eyes on you while you caught up Jen outside.

Kim realized that Lily was confused by the situation so she kneeled down in front of the toddler; “Tell me, Lily, what do you want to eat now?“ “Can we eat pizza?“, the little girl asked with big eyes.

While Kim nodded, Leah Williamson joined the conversation; “Can we join the pizza party?“ “Please?“, Laura Wienroither added, her facial expression almost identical to Lilys. Kim nodded with a sigh before turning back the toddler; “Sure. How about we make our own pizzas, Lily?“ “Yes!“ “Alright, let’s go.“, the captain decided and got up to grab her bag. She took Lilys hand in hers while Leah and Laura followed them.

At Kims home, they immediately got to work, making small individual pizzas. “I’m jealous. Yours and Kims pizza looks so good.“, Leah complained, eyeing the ham and mozzarella pizza that Kim just took out of the oven. “It’s because Lily and I are a good team.“, she replied, holding up her hand for Lily to high-five. “True.“, the little girl agreed.

Laura laughed; “Not bad, Little team.“ “Thanks.“, Kim said, only partly annoyed by the pun. Excitedly, Leah took her pizza out of the oven next; “Time to eat our pizzas.“ But there was a loud bang that told everyone in the room that Leahs pizza did not even make it to the table. “Oh no.“ “Leah!“, Lily yelled, amused by the mess the tomato sauce and hot cheese made on the tile floor. “Yeah, I know, very funny.“, the defender sighed.

Kim immediately turned back to the kitchen table; “It’s okay, we can make a new one.“ “Lee, you can have a bit of mine.“, Lily offered, gently pushing a piece of pizza towards the defender. Gratefully, Leah picked it up and took a bite; “Thank you, Lily, you’re very sweet.“ “You don’t need to tell her that, she knows.“, Kim grinned while making more pizza. “Still. She shared her pizza with me!“

Finally, the captain admitted; “Yes, okay, it’s cute.“ “See, that’s adorable.“, Leah said. Laura disrupted their conversation, pointing towards the toddler; “Oh my god, girls. She fell asleep with her head next to her plate.“

A soft smile appeared on Kims lips as she watched the child sleep, a piece of pizza still in her tiny hand; “I think it was a long day for her. Winning against Chelsea is exhausting.“ “Very true.“, Leah agreed with a laugh. Carefully, Kim picked the girl up; “I’ll bring her to bed.“ “Good night, Lil.“, Laura whispered. Lily blinked tiredly and yawned against Kims shoulder; “Nighty.“

Meanwhile, you looked at your surroundings being in awe of the restaurant your girlfriend chose:” Jen, this is so fancy here.” “I told you; I’d take you somewhere nice.”, the Arsenal player replied with a warm smile. Proudly she kept holding your hand until you reached your table and took a seat each. “Yes, you weren’t lying about you.”, you had to admit delighted.

In an honest tone she stated: “As much as I love Lily, you also deserve to be treated to something nice.” “She loves you too, in her kindergarten she refers to you as her mum.”, you confessed, cheeks flushing. Surprised but flattered Jen asked:” She does?” “Yes.”, you nodded cautiously, unsure if this information was too much for your girlfriend.

The defender let out a shaky breath: “Wow.” “Sorry, if that was too much.”, you stammered an apology. Immediately she reassured you:” No, I like that.” “Anything you would recommend from the menu?”, you tried to lighten up the mood, but the football player was taking your hand meaning you to pause for a second.

Softly the Scottish woman said:” Love..” “Yes?”, you looked up to her, your free hand was nervously putting a loose string of your hair behind your ear. A deep sigh escaped Jen’s lips, before she confessed: “I want to be honest with you. I never wanted to be a mum; it just wasn’t one of my life goals like it is for other women. But I’d love nothing more than being Lily’s mum.”

“You’re already a great one.”, you confirmed visibly moved by her words. Equally touched Jen answered: “Thanks. That means a lot.” Because words couldn’t encompass how much her confession meant to you, you kissed her, hoping the kiss could encompass everything you felt in that moment. “I love you.”, the Arsenal player whispered. “I love you too.” Her voice was filled with gratitude:” I’m so glad you were writing that book.” “It’s coming out soon.”, you announced happily.

Hopefully Jen wanted to know: “Can I read it first?” “Of course, I’ll leave you a copy on your nightstand.”, you promised her excited. A bright grin was on your girlfriend’s face: “Thank you. I can’t wait to read it.” “I hope you and the team will like it.”, you bit your lip. “I’m sure we will.” From that on you two had a very pleasant date night.

After the dinner you gratefully greeted Kim in her home:” Hi Kim, thanks for watching after Lily.” “You’re welcome. She was really tired and already fell asleep at dinner.”, the Arsenal Captain told you. Understandingly you nodded:” To be fair it was a long, exciting day for her.” “That’s true. I hope you had a good date night.”, Kim smiled at you both. Beaming Jen replied:“ We did.” “That’s good.”, the midfielder seemed pleased by the happy faces in front of her.

“Mums?“, Lilys voice interrupted your small talk. The little girl stumbled into your direction, her eyes were barely open. “Yes?“, Jen answered. “You’re back.“, your daughter yawned. You crouched down, your arms outstretched and Lily let herself against your chest. “We are.“, you confirmed as you carefully picked her up. Jen reached over, ruffling the little girls hair; “Yes, and we’re going home now.“ “Okay.“, Lily mumbled, almost asleep again. Jen chuckled quietly; “She is so cute.“

You said your goodbyes to Kim and made your way back home. You placed the sleeping Lily in her bed, carefully tucking her in and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead; “Good night, Lil.“ “I think she had fun today.“, Jen commented from where she leaned on the door frame. You grinned; “Yes, they had pizzas together.“

“Oh, Kim just texted.“, Jen said in surprise. You watched her read something on her phone; “What did she write?“ “That she hopes we got Lily home without waking her up.“, your girlfriend summarized the message quickly. You shrugged; “Kind of. She’s asleep now.“

With a smile on your lips, you took Jens phone out of her hand to snap a photo of your daughter, fast asleep with her favourite plushie in her arm. Grinning, Jen followed up her message to Kim with the photo while you both left Lilys room. “She and the girls seem to like being aunties.“, Jen thought out loud. You nodded happily; “They do. Even though Kim always pretends to be annoyed when you ask her to babysit.“ “Yes, but she secretly loves it.“, Jen replied with a laugh. “Oh yes.“, you agreed while you both slipped into your bed.

Only as your head hit your pillow, you realized how tired you were. Yawning, Jen slipped an arm around your waist and gently kissed your neck once. Just before you two were about to fall asleep, Jens phone screen lit up again.

As she held up the phone and blinked against the brightness of the screen, you caught a glimpse of the message. It was from Kim, reading; “Haven’t seen you that happy in a long time. You deserve this, Jen.“ You could feel a smile spread on your face, similar to the one on your girlfriends and you couldn’t deny that you felt a little bit honoured by that message.

Jen put her phone back on the nightstand and pulled you closer to her. You both didn’t need any words to express how right it felt to be there in each others arms.

#jen beattie #jen beattie x reader #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #woso #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #awfc #leah williamson #alessia russo #kim little #kyra cooney cross #jen beattie imagine #beth mead

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uglypastels · 11 months

Note

i have to say this, eddie love fucking you when you’re in a messy bun and your glasses almost falling down your nose. Chef’s kiss

Chef's kiss indeed and i hope this is ok, but this gave me major librarian!reader vibes, and I meant to make this pure filth, but as I started writing, I realised that I adore these two wholeheartedly, so please enjoy the fluff fest around it.

warnings: 18+ only MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. p in v sex. sex in a public place. unprotected sex (dzon't dzo it). swearing.

masterlist // inbox //

Working in the Hawkins Town Library, you got to be in the presence of almost everybody who lived there, from the youngest readers to the eldest. Everyone needed books for one reason or another, let it be homework research, recipes or just some entertainment. There were the quiet readers who settled themselves somewhere in a corner to spend the rest of the day with their noses in between the pages; the ones who search for hours for the one book they had their mind set on the moment they walked in; the ones that, for whatever reason, forget to stay silent. There were fans of fantasy as well as historical non-fiction, philosophy and romance. There was a place for everybody here.

With such a variety in patrons, it was only natural you grew to have favourites. Some might be more self-explanatory than others. Of course, your heart doubled when Julie came in with her daughter, Sandy [who just turned six!], to pick out a new book every few weeks. Or old man Farrell who already knew all the facts in the books he checked out and was more than happy to share with you.

It could come to most people as a shock then that the person you looked forward to seeing the most was none other than Eddie Munson.

Surprisingly, he could be the definition of the perfect library patron. Besides the fact that he had never been late with book returns, when you started working there, the first few times Eddie came by, he scared you to death—so quiet was he, sneaking around the aisles and up to the counter to check his stacks of books out.

‘Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya there, sweetheart,’ he said as he put the books on the desk.

‘It’s alright.’ You started picking up books from the pile, stamping in the date on the inside sheet. ‘Might have to consider getting a bell.’ You smiled, ‘that way I could hear you coming.’

‘Hmm, too bad I don’t have a bell.’ Eddie clicked his tongue but reached into one of his pockets, ‘but… would these do?’ He pulled out a handful of thin metal chains. They rattle around.

‘Why do you have those in your pocket?’ You asked curiously as you gave him back the books.

‘Always have them on me– I mean, on my jeans, but I take them off when I’m hear. Don’t want to disturb anyone.’ And with that, he gave you a shy little smile that made your heart melt.

‘That is, actually, really sweet of you.’ If only more people were so considerate. ‘Thank you.’

‘Yeah, well, I have my moments.’ He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘See ya.’ You waved as he walked away, barely able to contain the smile on your face that the metalhead had caused.

Not a lot changed since that day, but your and Eddie’s conversations did begin to grow. You’d keep on talking while you checked out his books, sometimes for so long that another patron would have to interrupt to get their books. Then, Eddie would pop by your desk to ask for the location of some particular book— one you had never heard of, in all honesty, but he probably easily could have found it if he bothered to look through the cards.

‘Excuse me, sweetheart,’ he’d clear his throat, ‘do you have any idea where I could find Carrots Love Tomatoes?’

‘Sorry?’ You must have misheard the title.

‘Carrots Love Tomatoes: Secrets of Companion Planting for Successful Gardening. It’s for my uncle.’ Eddie would clarify, reading the title out from a scrap of paper he had scribbled on.

‘Right. Do you know who it’s by, perchance?’

‘I’m surprised you don’t.’ He reread the paper. ‘Louise Riotte– shit, I’m definitely mispronouncing that.’ He quickly spelt it out for you.

Well, you had to admit, you weren’t personally familiar with Miss Riotte’s work, but you knew this library inside-out and told Eddie to follow you into the section you thought it most likely to be. The non-fiction section was off in the corner of the library, with only rectangular windows blocks near the ceiling, letting in barely any daylight. The light was, instead, coming from the lamps above you; they flickered and buzzed on the off-moments.

Eddie stayed a step behind you as you navigated through the shelves, muttering the alphabet to yourself repeatedly as you tried to find the RI– shelf. Once you finally found it, you realised it was on the top of the bookcase, where you couldn’t reach it.

‘It’s up there.’ You pointed, thinking that maybe Eddie would just get it himself now. But instead, Eddie offered to pick you up. A bit flustered, you accepted the offer and tried to ignore the feeling of his hands on your hips, the way his rings dug into your soft skin. He picked you up, and you grabbed the book quickly. Once back down on the ground again, you handed it over to him. Eddie thanked you with a large smile as he looked at the book.

He frowned.

‘Something wrong?’ You asked.

‘No, no, it’s all good, thanks. It’s just that…I don’t know…’ He looked at the book a bit longer. ‘Oh, you know what? I think I must have read it wrong.’ He looked down at the scrap of paper again. ‘...yeah. That definitely says Catcher in the Rye. Well, thank you anyway, sweetheart. Really ‘preciate it.’

‘You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.’ You laughed.

‘Uhm, I’ll have you know,’ he leaned against the bookcase by your side, ‘that this had actually all been an act of sheer brilliance.’

‘Oh?’ You were leaning against it, too, your shoulders almost touching.

‘Yes. I would say that the way I got you here with me, away from all those people, is MacGyver-level brilliance.’

‘Don’t you think it might have been easier to just… I don’t know, just ask me to meet you here.’ You would have been going on a break soon anyway.

Eddie grinned as he leaned forward to you, ‘Now, what would be the fun in that?’ You could feel his breath on you. The scent of excessive bubblegum chewing greeted you.

‘Fair enough,’ you tried to act cool, ignoring the hot flashes he was causing all over your body. ‘So, why did you want me to come out here? What couldn’t wait until my lunch break, Munson?’

‘Just wanted to say how cute you looked today.’ Eddie smiled, then, as if he remembered something– ‘Oh, and this–’ he leaned in, cupping your face in his hand, kissing you softly.

So, perhaps, some things had changed over time. Smalltalk and jokes at the front desk turned into stolen kisses and hushed laughter in the dark corners of the library. Just as with everything around, Eddie was gentle and soft. His grip on you was there for support, to make you feel how much he wanted you near him.

You pulled away with a small gasp, chest-beating fast, eyes fluttering open.

‘But I suppose I could have waited with that.’ Eddie said afterwards, his hand still on your cheek.

‘I’m glad you didn’t.’ Your voice was hushed, but you kissed Eddie deeply instead of breathing in the air you needed. You pulled at his shirt to bring him closer, and his other hand reached for your waist, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

‘You should probably get back,’ he muttered between kisses.

‘Probably,’ you replied. Neither of you meant any of it, and you both knew it. You had no idea why you only saw each other at the library. Maybe because you always knew to find each other here; it was a certainty. Outside, it would be a mere coincidence to bump into Eddie. Here, you knew he would be here every week.

Maybe because it felt like a haven for both of you and it felt like a different reality—an escape from the real world. But it was precisely this that made everything else so fragile. Who knew what it would be like outside of these bookshelves? You didn’t want to know, so why risk it? What you had now, it was an unspoken agreement. One you both were more than happy with. It was special—a rarity.

Everything- the kiss, the hold, the emotions, the heat- all intensified the longer you kept going. It was getting messy and rough. Eddie had locked you in between him and the bookcase. You could feel him all over you. His hair tickling your face, his cold rings on your skin, his clothes pressing into you, his— fuck, he was huge. You could feel him against your thigh, no hiding it.

‘Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this the whole week.’ He breathed against your neck. ‘Haven’t stopped thinking about you.’ You would have told him the same if you could form an entire sentence. It was hard to concentrate daily when you had the memory of his touch plague you every day, and everything around you at your job was a heavy reminder.

‘Need… I need you, Eddie,’ you gasped out as he kissed your neck, right on the spot that made your knees go weak. ‘Please.’

‘Hmm, need you too, sweetheart.’ He was roaming his hand over your bare thigh underneath your skirt. Sometimes you wondered if anyone around had noticed that you really only wore them on days of Eddie’s library visits. Perhaps Eddie hadn’t picked up on that specifically, but he certainly enjoyed your style. ‘Drive my fucking wild in these short skirts of yours.’ The words rolled out of his mouth as he began unzipping his jeans. ‘Look so fucking good.’

‘Thank you,’ you moaned, giggling about how giddy you felt that he was complimenting you while preparing to thrust his dick in you. It was all so silly, so stupid. You were doing something incredibly risky, most likely illegal, but you couldn’t care one bit. All you could think about was how good he made you feel. How happy you felt with him.

‘C’mere,’ Eddie groaned, pulling you up by your thighs, holding you against the shelves. Luckily, they were pretty sturdy, bolted to the ground, so his force pushing you against them barely mattered. On you, however, it was another story.

‘Oh, fuck,’ you whimpered, trying to stay quiet at the feeling of him inside you. After letting you adjust quickly, he started thrusting in you hard and deep. The way he was moving against you, it made your whole body shake. You could feel your glasses slip down your nose. In the haze of it all, you had forgotten to take them off but were about to do so– when Eddie interrupted.

‘No, keep them on.’ He kissed your cheek.

‘Why?’ you didn’t see a reason for them.

‘Want you to see me fucking you.’ His smile was airy. ‘Besides, it’s hot as shit. The way you get so messy for me. And your hair,’ he punctuated each sentence with a deep thrust. One of his hands brushed some of your hair out of your face, ‘I wish I could take a picture of you right now. Would cum to it like every day.’

‘Gross.’ You joked, and in return, Eddie grazed his teeth over your collarbone, nipping at your skin slightly.

‘Calling me gross as if you’re not getting fucked in the middle of the library.’ Eddie’s smile was contagious. As he continued, your glasses were falling again, but he quickly pushed them back over the bridge of your nose. ‘You’re fucking filthy, sweetheart.’

‘I’m–’ you gasped as he went deeper.

‘Yeah, baby?’

‘I’m– I’m close, Eddie.’ You tried to whisper as best as you could, biting down on any noises that could be heard from afar.

‘Mmm, I know, you’re so tight. So perfect.’ he moaned through his last hard thrusts. You could feel your climax coming, knew how it would come, and quickly hid your face in the nape of his neck to muffle your scream of pleasure as it washed over you. Eddie rode it out with you, only moments behind.

He held you briefly, letting you come down and stabilise your breathing. You smiled at eachother sheepishly and kissed deeply once more. There was nothing else to say.

Eddie pulled out, the emptiness hitting you immensely. It was a strange sensation, and you still didn’t feel quite yourself as your feet touched the ground again. But Eddie’s hands stayed on you for stability.

‘You’re a dream, sweetheart. Just… unbelievable.’

Eddie brushed the loose strands of hair from your face again while you readjusted your glasses. There was nothing else to say.

Now came the awkward part where you timed your exit from the aisle and hid the guilty sex-glow look on your face.

It was a slow day at the library, so no one awaited you at the front desk. You took your place and tried to shake off all your emotions, and it worked for the most part, except for the giant smile. That you just could not get rid of.

It was still there when Eddie returned to you twenty minutes later, now accompanied by a new stack of books.

‘Found everything you were looking for?’ You asked as you took the books from him.

‘That and more.’ He leaned his elbows on the wood, grinning like an idiot. You had to tell yourself not to look at him, or you would get lost in those big brown eyes.

‘I’m happy to hear that.’ You stamped the date into all the books and returned them to Eddie. ‘Here you go.’

‘Thanks, sweetheart.’ Eddie grabbed them under his arm. ‘Same time next week?’ He winked. Once, the words really were only meant for this little exchange. That had been all you were looking forward to—the small chat at the desk. Back then, you would have never imagined the things you would get up to with the metalhead in the barely visited sections of the library.

‘See you, Eddie.’ You shook your head, still smiling, of course. And that was that. There was nothing else to say.

At least, there wasn’t before. All those other times, that really would have been it. Eddie would have walked away, and you would have watched him do so while already awaiting his comeback. Yet this time…

This time, Eddie stayed in his place.

‘Can I… help you with anything else?’ You raised a brow.

‘Uhh–’ Eddie cleared his throat. ‘Yes. Yes, you could. See if I have these… these two tickets for this thing— a concert… and see, I have no idea what to do with this second one, so maybe you could help me with that.’ He spoke fast and like he was stumbling over an uneven pavement instead of words, but you followed it nonetheless.

‘Concert?’ You asked.

‘Yes.’ He expanded with the name of a band you had never heard of before. ‘This weekend.’

You thought for a moment, or at least pretended to, as you already knew your answer. ‘I might have a friend who would be interested in taking that ticket off you.’

‘Any chance this friend of yours wears cute glasses, short skirts and works at my favourite spot in the city?’

‘She just might.’ You bit the inside of your cheek.

‘Then it’s deal, sweetheart,’ Eddie slammed his hand on the table in excitement, then immediately cringed at the noise he made. That same noise seemed to have awakened a quick realisation in him: ‘Wait, we were talking about you, right?’

‘Yes, Eddie. I would love to go to the concert with you.’ You rolled your eyes at the needed clarification.

‘Cool, just checking. Great.’ he started walking away now. ‘Great. I’ll pick you up– wait; I don’t even know where you live.’

‘You can pick me up here.’

‘Do you live at the library?’ he asked quickly, and you were sure he was being serious.

‘No, Eddie, I do not, but I work weekends too. But you can bring me back to my place afterwards. Stay the night, maybe?’ Was that too much too quickly? You started to panic for a second, thinking you took it too far, but then Eddie replied, repeating his previous words.

‘It’s a deal, sweetheart.’

the end

thank you so much for reading!! please consider supporting with comments and reblogs <3 (maybe leave a review??) I would love to hear your thoughts

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nickfowlerrr · 1 year

Note

This picture has ruined me. Now I need a fic with Bucky as your professor banging you in the library during regular hours.

clear your mind

pairing: professor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

words: 7.5k

warnings: 18+ ONLY. smut. public sex. cockwarming. student/teacher relations. possible age gap depending on how you read it (reader is at least 25 or older but it’s not really specified and bucky is late 30s or older but again, not specified. imagine whatever you like.) i added an alternate kind of darkish ending that is separated with a divider near the end (duh) but of course you can choose to not read it and stick to the original cute ending lol. if i’m missing anything you feel needs to be added, please let me know.

notes: disclaimer: i never technically went to college so i don’t really know what i’m writing about lmao but when i say this was instant inspo, i mean instant. i’ve been in such a funk since i lost chapter four of keeping secrets, but this really ignited something in me so i just went for it. it was originally gonna be a little smutty drabble but then i started writing and it just became a whole one shot - not that i’m complaining lol. this was so fun to write, thank you @sammyisfat for sending it in! 🖤 i hope you all enjoy it! as always, feedback and comments are welcome and appreciated. and thank you in advance for reading and reblogging!

You were sitting hunched over, eyes scanning the same sentence repeatedly, trying to force yourself to focus. You were reading the words but you weren’t really putting them together. You were too bored to make them make sense. Your brain was far off and you were sure you were about to burn out completely at this point.

Why you thought going back to school after so long was a good idea was beyond you. Was the degree really worth it? You’d gotten this far without one, hadn’t you?

As you were contemplating your life choices, and working on convincing yourself to just screw it and drop out, you’d failed to notice the presence of two of your professors passing by.

You had been alone at the far back of the library, closed in by the sturdy cases of books around you, for so long you’d nearly forgotten you were actually there. You had needed solitude, lest the chatter of other students in study groups or working on projects distract you further than your mind already did on its own. Your back was to the open aisle so as not to get distracted by anyone passing by, either. The zone you were occupying was normally a hot spot, but on a Wednesday afternoon, not so much. And for that you were grateful.

The knock on the bookcase next to you accompanied by your name being called, almost in question, startled you as you quickly corrected your posture and looked toward the noise, adjusting the glasses you were wearing as you did. You were greeted with two pairs of blue eyes looking back at you. Standing next to the bookcase, waiting for your response were two of the most lusted after professors on campus. And that wasn’t just you thinking so. The way students fawned over both Mr. Barber and Barnes was near juvenile. They were like kids gossiping about their crushes in elementary school. It was always funny to you seeing the line of people waiting to speak with Andy at the end of class every Wednesday and Friday, whether they had a genuine question to ask or not. You couldn’t say you didn’t get it, though. He had great hair, a soft smile, kind eyes.. He was gorgeous. It was clear why so many people had a thing for him. But you always found yourself a little more than preoccupied with thoughts of Mr. Barnes. Though they were both at least six foot tall and unfairly attractive, easy enough to spread your attention between both of them, as most of their students did, there was just something about James that had you in a hold since the first day you met him.

It was your first day on campus and you’d accidentally bumped into him with your green tea as you were leaving the small corner cafe after your first morning class. You apologized profusely, but he’d claimed it was his fault, that he wasn’t watching where he was going. He insisted on buying you a new drink as he removed his tea damp jacket. You didn’t fight him on it, walking back into the cafe as he held the door for you. You introduced yourselves as you waited for the drinks to be made and spoke a bit. It wasn’t a super long interaction, both of you having places you had to be, but you would have sworn there was something there. And the glimmer in his eye as he smiled and told you he’d see you around convinced you it wasn’t one sided. You were instantly smitten, hopeful you would see him again, that maybe it could lead to getting to know him better, lead to something more.

That was until you walked into your afternoon class the next day to find him standing at a podium, setting up his orientation slides. You had been hoping all day to run into him, but this was certainly not how you’d been imagining the circumstances. Of course he was your professor. You breathed a humorless laugh to yourself as you found a seat. You got your laptop out and looked back up at the same time he looked up from his, making direct eye contact with him. You saw the instant he recognized you and gave him a tight lipped smile that he returned before you diverted your gaze back down. His look of disappointment matched your own, but at the very least, it made you feel wanted.. The “professor x student” trope was never really your cup of tea, but as the weeks went by, the stolen glances and secret longing stares you exchanged were starting to change your mind. After one particular heated night of self pleasure, absentmindedly picturing him while you were reveling in your own touch, imagining it was his, you knew you were really gone for him. And heaven help you, the idea of it really happening was growing hotter and hotter the more you told yourself you couldn’t. Imagining showing up to his office hours one evening and just letting him have you any way he liked. Letting him take you apart on his desk, or sucking him off under his desk while he works. God, you’d daydreamed so many scenarios.

You just couldn’t bring yourself to act on any of it. You didn’t know how to. More importantly, you knew you shouldn’t. It wasn’t like you were some barely legal star eyed student he’d be taking advantage of, but still, you were his student. You weren’t sure how that dynamic might play out or the optics of it for either of you. Instead you willed yourself to stay focused on the work, to keep your thoughts set on passing the course and that was all.

Even when you would find yourself needing actual help from him or needing to ask him about an assignment, you would always talk yourself out of it. You didn’t want to let yourself be alone with him, you couldn’t be trusted. You were worried you’d make a fool of yourself the second you got the chance. So instead, you’d get help from a classmate if you could or you’d end up just winging it. It had been working that far.

The real problem started just last week. This most recent section was challenging to say the least. You had tried the study group offered on Monday nights, but you got absolutely nothing done.

Your last essay assignment had been returned to you on Friday with a note on it, asking you to come by his office hours before the next class. You had been putting it off all week, but knew you’d have to go by Thursday. You just weren’t expecting to see him around any earlier than that.

“Professors,” you greeted, slightly taken aback.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Mr. Barber apologized. “Thought you might’ve heard us walking up.”

“I was uh, lost in the text, I guess,” you replied, giving them an awkward smile.

“Well, I’m glad someone’s reading it,” he laughed.

“Do you mind if we join you?” he continued, motioning to the otherwise empty table you were sitting at the end of. It was big enough to seat at least 8 people easily and it’d, of course, be rude of you to try and keep it for yourself. But what would they need to be in the library for anyway? The question must have been written on your face as Mr. Barnes answered it for you.

“The heat isn’t working in our offices. We’re just grading some work.”

“Right, yeah, of course. Go for it.”

“Thank you,” Andy smiled.

They took seats at the other end of the table, surely trying to avoid distracting you. You appreciated the gesture, but it was futile. As they worked on grading papers, they were talking and laughing every so often and even if they hadn’t been, their presence alone was not at all aiding you in your attempt to focus on schoolwork.

You’d given up trying to finish the passage you’d been reading and instead pretended to start making notes in your laptop. In all actuality, you were really just googling alternative career paths and the question: “Do you really need a college degree to be successful?”.

Thirty minutes later, Andy’s phone went off and he began to gather his things, telling Mr. Barnes, who he called ‘Bucky’, that he had a lecture in 45 minutes but he’d see him later.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Andy pointed at you as he passed by.

“Bright and early,” you affirmed with a nod and a small smile.

“Have a good night,” he smiled back.

“You too,” you returned.

The second he was gone, you became fully aware that you were now alone with Professor Barnes, the situation you’d been trying to avoid for the past almost three months. Despite your efforts, your entire focus was being pulled to the man just down the table from you. He was still grading, in the middle of someone’s essay as you glanced over to him. You admired the quirk of his brow as he read and how his tongue jutted out to lick his lip as his eyes scanned the words on the page. You pulled your gaze away from him and back to your laptop, deciding to close it and put it away, begrudgingly returning to your textbook. Just one more hour. You had promised yourself 2 hours of studying today minimum, you were halfway there. You could do it.

Not ten minutes later you heard the flipping of paper and glanced over to see he’d just finished the paper he was on, writing the grade on top of the first page. You looked back to your text just as he slid the paper down the table to you. You furrowed your brows as you watched it slide into your book. You saw the “C-” he had given it circled in red ink and immediately recognized the title. Your lips parted and you clicked your tongue as you looked back up to meet his eye.

“Anyone else that would’ve been a D,” he told you, sounding slightly disappointed. “Your work is normally a lot better than what you’ve been turning in lately. That’s why I asked you to come by my office hours.”

“Yeah, I- uh. I don’t know, I’ve just been having a hard time with this section,” you explained. “And I wasn’t ignoring your note, I was planning to see you on Thursday.”

“Well, we’re both here now, right?” he said and you nodded.

“Good a time as any,” you shrugged.

He got up and moved his stuff down the table to take the seat next to you. You closed your textbook and straightened up in your chair. Nerves eating at you as he sat and turned to angle himself towards you.

“My main concern isn’t really about you understanding the materials, all the concepts are there in your work, it's just..lackluster. Sloppily written, a bit jumbled here and there. Nothing like what you had been turning in at the start of the semester,” he said. “Are you sure it’s the section you’re having a hard time with?”

You looked at him for a moment, not really knowing what to say.

“What else would I be having a hard time with?” you questioned quietly.

It was his turn to look at you for a moment as he thought about how to word his response. He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it before he finally spoke.

“You’ve seemed more and more distracted during class lately. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he said sincerely, his blue eyes gleaming into yours. He was already close, but you suddenly found yourself mindlessly leaning closer to him. You took a breath as you sat back, licking your lips ever so lightly without realizing as you looked away.

“I’m okay,” you told him. “Sorry I’ve seemed distracted. Well, uhm, been distracted. I don’t know why I’ve been having such a hard time focusing on this,” you lied, “but I appreciate your concern. I’ll work on being more present. And putting more effort into my writing.”

He smiled softly and nodded before he turned back in his seat, returning to his pile of papers.

You bit your lip as you sat there. Of course you knew why you were so distracted, but you couldn’t just tell him it was because of him.

“You know there’s a study group you can sign up for,” he said as he was still looking down, reading the new paper in front of him, red pen in hand.

“Yeah, I know. I just, uh, work better in smaller groups,”

“Alone isn’t exactly a group,” he lightly smirked with a slight tilt of his head.

“I’ve never really had the best focus when it comes to studying, anything. I get off topic and then I get everyone else off topic and then we end up having spent the entire session debating something trivial, like who the best Batman is,” you said.

“Christian Bale,” he responded.

“Obviously,” you agreed with a smile. “But uhm, yeah. Less distractions the better, so I try to avoid big groups. Though I’ll admit, just trying to stay focused on my own is a feat in and of itself,” you laughed lightly.

“Sounds like you just need someone other than yourself to hold you accountable. Have you thought about one on ones? I offer tutoring sessions that no one seems to want to take me up on,” he laughed. “I have three one hour sessions all still open for tonight, actually.. Not that you need tutoring, but you could use the time to work on your assignments without distractions - and I'd be there, of course, if you need any help.”

You told yourself to say no. You really did..

“Well it couldn’t hurt, right?” you breathed, a small smile on your lips. Just then the clock chimed three, drawing both of your attention.

“I have a class in twenty, I have to get going. But I’ll be in my office from five to eight, you can come whenever. Like I said, no one else has signed up, so whenever you can make it. Hopefully the heat should be working by then.”

“Okay,” you agreed. “Thank you, Professor.”

“Please, James is more than fine,” he told you. “I’ll see you later.”

When he left, you packed up your things - letting yourself off the hook for your two hour promise. You were gonna be studying later now, anyway so it wasn’t like you just checking out for the day. Your apartment wasn’t too far from campus, so you drove home and decided you’d head back around 6.

You made yourself a late lunch/early dinner and then got your things together for when you’d leave. You figured you had time for a quick nap, so you laid down on the couch with the tv still playing in the background. After about 45 minutes, you woke up feeling more flustered than you had felt all week. You were starting to regret your quick agreement to his one on one offer, but you couldn’t just not show up now. You were getting yourself worked up over nothing, you were sure. Really what could you do that would be so bad? It’s not like you were planning on seducing the man. You’d probably just ask him to review the essay you’d been working on that would be turned in at the next class and ask for clarification on the requirements for the part of your midterm paper you’d been confused about for the past two weeks. You probably wouldn’t even stay the whole hour.

Checking the time, you decided to head back to campus. You’d get to his office a little after 5 and you’d be home by 6:30 at the latest. It’d be fine.

As you walked up to the sturdy oak door that led to his office, two cups of coffee in hand, your nerves started anew. You took a second before you knocked lightly. A few moments later, the door was pulled open as he greeted you, ushering you in.

“I got you a coffee,” you offered with a smile.

“That’s very much needed, thank you,” he smiled back, taking the drink you’d extended to him. “Please, have a seat.”

You took the only chair across from his desk as he sat.

“So, I was wondering if you’d be able to go over my essay for this week. See if it’s missing anything, or if it needs to be rewritten entirely,” you laughed nervously.

“Yeah, of course,”

“Great,” you breathed, “I just emailed you a copy.”

He pulled it open on his screen and you watched for a moment as he began reading before you pulled out your laptop to work more on your midterm. You couldn’t focus though. Not with him right across from you. The little noises he’d make as he read caught your attention repeatedly and when you’d glance up, you’d find yourself admiring the shape of his face, the quirk of his lips, the squinting of his eyes.

“The whole point of this is so that you have no distractions,” he said as he continued reading before turning to look at you. “Something distracting you?” he asked, his eyes finding your own with something akin to a playful glimmer shining in them.

You opened your mouth to speak but you just shook your head instead, taking a steadying breath.

“No,” you answered after a second. He looked at you hard.

“You sure about that?” he asked again.

“No,” you repeated softly.

“Well since you can’t seem to focus on what you’re working on, why don’t you come over here and we’ll go over this together.”

You stared at him, gawking before your body finally moved. You stood up and he did the same, pulling his chair back for you to sit in as you rounded the desk. He pushed you back in and then leaned down behind you so he was at the same height you were, looking at the screen.

You were stiff and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. He was so close. And he smelled so good. And he was so pretty. God, you didn’t know what to do. You really couldn’t focus, even as he read your words aloud and went over a line you’d blubbed.

“Are you listening to me?” he asked, standing to his full height as he spun the chair around, looking down at you. Your eyes immediately landed on his crotch before you quickly looked away, trying to not look so flustered.

“Sorry,” you eked out.

“It’s obvious you have something on your mind. You’re clearly distracted,” he said, finding your eye. “I think you just need to clear your head to find your focus.”

“Right, well, I don’t really know how to do that,” you breathed.

“Why don’t you let me try to help,” he returned softly as he leaned down and grabbed your chin, tilting your face up to meet his as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours.

You were definitely not expecting this to happen, but you weren’t upset in the least. His lips were soft and he tasted like coffee. Your hand found his hair as you pulled him closer to you, the gentle kiss turning into something hungrier the longer it went on. He pulled away suddenly and pulled you out of his chair before taking his seat and pulling you down onto his lap just as quickly, his lips returning to yours the instant he had you on him. Your arm wound itself around his neck as your other cupped his jaw, keeping his face close to you as he held you close to him.

Slowly, his hand traveled under your sweater and along your waist, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. He easily slipped his tongue into your mouth, eliciting a moan from you as he did. You felt his erection growing as you sat on his lap, smiling into the kiss as you teasingly rubbed against him, earning a groan from him in response. He broke away from you for a moment as you both caught your breath, “Tell me if you want to stop,” was all he said before he maneuvered you with ease. He sat you on the edge of his desk while he took your boots off before he pulled your leggings down your thick thighs, his touch sending chills through you as he did.

He made quick work of his trousers, pulling them down before he took himself out of his briefs. He sat back down on his chair as he looked at you with lust filled eyes. “Stand up,” he told you. When you were standing before him, he pulled you close by your wide set hips before his fingers hooked the band of your thong, dragging it down until they were past your thighs and dropped to your ankles. “Step out of them, sweetheart.”

You did as he said before he pulled you closer and got you onto the chair, positioning you so you straddled his lap, barely hovering above his hard cock. You were breathing heavily as your hands grasped his shoulders and his hands held your fleshy hips. He looked up at you like he was waiting for your permission and so you nodded softly down at him. He gripped himself with one hand and moved the tip of his cock along your wet slit, you gasped in unison at the feeling. He took his time and just played with you a bit until you were moaning, whining above him. Your eyes squeezed shut as he circled your clit before he moved to finally align his cock up to your slick entrance. He pushed his tip just inside of you and groaned at the sensation, his hands returning to your hips as he gripped you tightly, holding you there despite you wanting desperately to take more of him.

“James,” you whined. He shook his head.

“Call me Bucky,” he instructed headily.

“Bucky,” you whined further, trying to lower yourself further onto his cock.

“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he laughed. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm,” you moaned as he took your lips in his again.

“You want more? Want more of my dick inside you?”

“Yes, yes, Bucky, please,” you mewled.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna give it to you,” he said, kissing you along your neck, “but then you’re gonna focus on your work, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed without really hearing him. You just needed more, you needed all of him.

He pulled you down further onto his cock torturously slowly as you gasped and mewled until he was seated fully inside of you.

“Fuck,” he grunted, eyes shutting in pleasure at the feeling of your tight walls squeezing him, at the warmth of your cunt around him.

You tried to move, but were stopped again by his hands holding you in place. He tutted as he looked at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

“What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart? We just agreed you’re gonna focus on your work now,”

“Huh? Right, right now?” you huffed.

“Right now,” he told you firmly.

You pouted as you leaned against his chest, your face pressing into his neck, even just that movement sparking pleasure through you.

“No pouting,” he laughed against your temple. You turned your face up to him, pout still in place before you leaned up further to kiss him again. Slow and heated, he got lost in your kiss. He almost didn’t stop you when you started rocking your hips against him. Almost.

You whined again as he held you still. His strength was impressive, you had to admit.

“Stop. Moving,” he growled, sending a new wave of arousal through you. “You’re gonna sit right here on my cock while we go over your essay and if you do a good job listening to me and stay focused, I’ll give you what you really want after. Understand?”

“Yes, professor,” you said quietly.

“Good,” he smiled, caressing your cheek as he looked down at you.

It was thirty five minutes of pure torture. He read a loud your entire essay and had you make corrections as he went, the entire time you could feel his thick cock throbbing inside your dripping cunt, just begging for any kind of movement. Near the end of your essay corrections, his hand dropped from your hip until he found your clit, slowly beginning to rub it in tight circles. You mewled pathetically and your walls tightened around his dick still deep inside of you while his lips attacked your neck with gentle kisses and love bites.

“You did so well, sweetheart,” he praised. “You took this from a C to an A with just thirty minutes of actual focus. All you had to do was face your distractions head on, find the right motivation,” he smirked against your skin.

“So we’re done with the editing then, right?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he hummed against you.

“Great,” you breathed as he brought you closer with his every touch.

“Fuck, you’re squezzing me so tight,” he groaned.

“I’m gonna come,” you mewled, breathing heavier still as his left hand tightened on your hip and his fingers worked your bud faster, sending you head first into your orgasm, his name falling off your tongue as you cursed and panted through your high, collapsing onto his chest.

“Oh my god,” he whined with a small gasp, his eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, can I come inside you?” he asked. You nodded your answer as you were still trying to catch your breath. He grabbed your face and crashed his lips into yours, hot and needy, while you felt him tense suddenly as his cock pulsed inside you and he moaned deeply into your mouth as he let himself go, you could feel the warmth of his release against your walls.

The evidence of your orgasm was all over his lap, coating his dick as he pulled you off of him.

“Holy fuck,” he panted. You didn’t think it was possible, but you felt yourself heat up even more than you already had been. “Hand me a tissue,” he said pointing to the box he had on the corner of his desk.

He cleaned himself up quickly before he pulled his briefs and trousers back up. He had you again on the edge of his desk as he bent down to clean you up, too, admiring the way his cum was leaking out of you before he grabbed your leggings from the floor, handing them to you. He pocketed your thong before he stood back up to his full height, towering over you.

“That was nice,” he laughed softly as he leaned down closer to you, his right hand framing your face, tilting it up to meet his eye, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin of your cheek before he leaned in to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

You smiled in response. “Yeah, it was,” you agreed.

“I hope you don’t find this inappropriate, but I’ve wanted you since the day we met.”

“The feeling is more than mutual,” you assured him. “But uhm. Is this..,” you gestured between the two of you, “allowed?” you questioned as you hopped off his desk to pull your leggings on.

“Well, it’s certainly not encouraged, but there’s nothing in my contract that explicitly prohibits it. I made sure a few months ago,” he said, eyeing you with a shy smile as if he hadn’t just come inside you after making you cockwarm him for nearly 45 minutes. It made you laugh. “I would prefer to keep this between us for as long as we can, though,” he hedged.

“Yeah, I completely agree. Don’t need these kids gossiping about me, too.”

“They do love to talk, don’t they?” he grimaced, causing you to smile at him.

“I’m sure we can keep this under wraps,” you said as you pulled your boots back on. “And I’d like to sign up for next week's one on one sessions, too, if you're available.”

“I’ll be sure to block it out for you,” he grinned.

“Might as well make it a standing weekly appointment,” you suggested as you walked back over to him from where he was perched on his desk.

“Sounds like a good idea,” he responded as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer while you stared up at him, your arms wrapping around him in return. “Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Dinner?” you questioned, pulling back slightly. “That doesn’t sound very underwraps,” you teased.

“A private dinner. At a private residence. My residence,” he clarified with a smirk.

“I’m free,” you nodded as you backed away and went to the other side of the desk as he turned around to watch you.

“Great, I’ll message you the address.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for it,” you said as you grabbed your bag and slipped your laptop back inside of it. “I should get going, but, thank you. For everything,” you simpered. “I really appreciate your help.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. My door’s always open. I’ll see you tomorrow,”

“Tomorrow it is,” you nodded in agreement as you walked to the door. But before you could open it, Bucky was behind you, turning you around to face him. His lips met yours in a soft, unrushed kiss before he pulled away slowly, opening the door for you.

“Have a good night,” you breathed.

“You, too,” he smiled.

Three weeks later you had a routine set in place. Nothing changed much in class, except you found yourself paying more close attention to the material now that you weren’t so hopelessly longing for your professor. Wednesday’s were your one on one sessions in Bucky’s office and Friday nights had been spent at his place. This last week, you’d even stayed the three day weekend with him. You knew you weren’t crazy when you had thought there was something real between the two of you when you had first met, but you didn’t expect to have clicked so well the way you had. Your chemistry was unbelievable and you got on so well together. Plus the sex was incredible.

Fucking in his office was so cliche, but that didn’t make it any less hot. In fact, it was really the only place you called him “Professor” these days. The title just made things that much sexier. It was Wednesday afternoon and you’d just gotten out of your last class for the day. You were going to head to Bucky’s office in a few hours, planning to go to your apartment to freshen up before picking up some food for you both on your way back.

You’d just finished changing into more…accessible clothes when your phone rang. It was a text from Bucky letting you know that the heat in his office wasn’t working again, so you’d have to meet in the library instead as they’d be working on the unit in his room. You frowned slightly, accepting that you’d changed for nothing, but at least the skirt was still comfortable. You texted back asking if you should still bring food and he promised he’d take you somewhere after instead. Apparently only two of his students in his 3:20 class showed up, so he dismissed them for the day. He was already on his way to the library, so you grabbed your things and headed back to campus.

You walked around the library looking for him with no luck before you decided to walk up to the second level, which was technically closed off for some construction work, in order to get a better view. You spotted him easily in the far back section of the lower level as you stood at the railing of the second floor. He was sipping on a cup of coffee and you smiled as you spied a cup of tea waiting for you next to his satchel on the table while he read over some work.

You walked back down to the first floor and made your way to him.

“Professor,” you greeted as you knocked on the bookcase blocking the table he was at from an easy view. He greeted you in return as he looked up from his work, a smile on his face. His eyes caught on the low v-neck of the top you were wearing, your cleavage on perfect display. His tongue jutted out along his lower lip as he admired the view. You cleared your throat as you looked at him with a raised brow.

He looked back up to your eyes, smiling charmingly as if he hadn’t just been caught leering at you so openly.

“I’m here to study, not be perved on,” you accused.

“You know you need to clear your mind to get your focus, first. And you know what helps clear your mind best,” he alluded.

“You know we’re in public, right?” you asked, voice hushed as you walked closer to the table.

“It’s a Wednesday, no one’s gonna come back here,” he said smoothly. “We’re hidden from sight.”

“Not true,” you denied. “I saw you from the second level,” you informed him.

“Was anyone up there?” he asked.

“No..”

“Didn’t think so,” he said smugly.

“There’s not right now. Anyone could come in at any time. It’s the middle of the day.”

“You’re right,” he aquesqued, hands up. “All work, no play today. I got you a tea,” he offered.

“Thank you,” you smiled as you took the seat across from him.

“Wow, why are you sitting so far?”

“Where do you want me to sit?” you laughed.

“Preferably, my lap,” he started, earning a humored scoff from you. “But right here would be good, too,” he said, gesturing to the seat next to him.

You got up and moved spots, getting comfortable before you pulled up your essay on your laptop.

“Still going through midterms?” you asked as you looked over to him making marks on the paper he was reading.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Have you gotten to mine yet?”

“Not yet,” he said absently.

You nodded as you took a sip of your tea. You looked back to your essay and found yourself trailing off. It was pretty much finished, just needed to be read through again for any edits you needed to make. It wasn’t enough to keep your attention. Too easy. You could do it later no problem.

Instead you took out your text for Andy’s class and started reading next week’s assignment. You didn’t have much else to do. Funnily enough, you’d been getting most of your work done earlier than normal so you’d have less to actually do on Wednesdays, instead spending your “study” time focusing on other things…

You weren’t paying attention to anything, lost in perverted thoughts of last week when Bucky had fucked you agaisnt the wall in his office, while twirling your pen as you stared down blankly at the words on the page, not reading them at all. Pulling you from your perversions, suddenly you felt Bucky’s hand smooth its way under your skirt and up your thigh. His hand was so warm and strong as he touched you, sending chills through you as he scooted his chair closer to yours. You didn’t stop him and absentmindedly spread your thighs for him as he inched his way closer and closer to your inner thighs before his fingers made their way between them, gently rubbing at your warm, barely clothed pussy.

You came back to earth as you remembered where you were and reached your hand under the table to hold his, stopping his movements.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing, professor?” you breathed.

“Helping,” he responded. “What did I say about distractions, sweetheart?”

“Who says I’m distracted,” you whispered as you heard chatter coming from the other side of the bookcase before it passed as some students made their way to the front desk from the back office you weren’t too far off from.

“You have that far off look in your eyes,” he spoke quietly, “and I saw you squeezing your thighs together not ten seconds ago.” You exhaled a breath so softly you barely even heard yourself.

“Maybe we can end this session early and call it a day?” you asked, wanting to get out of the library and meet him back at your place, or hell, meet him at his car and let him take you apart in the faculty parking lot.

“No, I don’t think so. We both have some work left to do.”

“Bucky,” you whispered.

“No calling me Bucky outside my office while we’re on campus,” he reminded you. “You know better.”

You bit your lip before whispering sorry.

“You just need to face your distractions so you can get past them,” he said. “Let me help.”

You let go of his hand beneath the table and spread your thighs a little wider.

You almost stopped breathing completely when he slipped his fingers past your panties and gently pushed inside of you as one of the librarians passed by the aisle over. She peered behind the bookcase that was shielding you from the side to see who was at the tables and greeted both of you quietly before she returned to the aisle and reshelved some books. Bucky’s fingers didn’t stop for even a second as he returned her greeting and went back to grading.

The second you knew she was gone you panted a breath. “James,” you chastised as you sat in your seat still, making no attempt to actually stop him.

“More?” he questioned without looking up from his work, only speeding up his fingering, curling them inside of you. You bit down harshly on your lip to stop yourself from moaning out loud, your thighs tensing with the impending wave of pleasure you were teetering on before he slipped his fingers out of you, a school boy smirk playing on his lips.

You exhlaed heavily and shakily before looking over to him, shocked. He finally looked back at you, still smirking.

“I wanna try something. If you want me to stop, tell me,” he said as he removed his hand from your thigh and stood up abruptly. You could see the outline of his erection through his trousers and found yourself getting more aroused. You didn’t know what he wanted to do, but assumed it'd be something at least a little discret. Along the lines of putting you in his lap again, or even just having you get him off. So when he pulled you up and spun you around, pushing you down against the table, you were surprised to say the least. You heard him unzip his pants as he pulled himself free and then pulled your panties down your thighs. You couldn’t even think as he prodded you with his cock, and gasped loudly when he finally pushed into you. His hand was on your mouth in an instant as he leaned over your back, his mouth next to your ear as he spoke. “Gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he panted. “You don’t want anyone to see us back here, do you?”

Your gurgled moan was his response as he began fucking into you, keeping your chest firmly againt the sturdy table, one hand on your mouth and one holding your wrists behind your back. You were panting as quietly as you could as he slid in and out of you, getting deeper with each thrust. He took his hand away from your mouth after a moment and gripped your hip to keep you a little more steady, trying to keep your hips from slamming so hard into the wood. The salacious sounds of his pelvis slapping against your ass with his thrusts were only making you more slick as he moved his hand from your wrists to keep your skirt pushed up as he fucked you from behind.

It was taking all of your willpower to keep quiet, your mouth open in silent moans as you tried to keep yourself breathing. His thrusts were getting more powerful the longer he went. Each time you heard people passing by, your cunt gripped his cock even tighter at the thrill of the proximity, and Bucky didn’t miss it.

“Who knew you were so fucking kinky,” he panted into your ear. “You like getting fucked in public, huh? Like the idea of anyone walking by and seeing you get fucked out of your mind? Seeing you getting claimed by me,” he husked.

You mewled as quietly as you could and nodded your head in affirmation. “I like it,” you whispered pathetically.

“I know you do,” he laughed before fucking into you deeper, making sure you felt every inch of his thick cock gliding against your velvety walls, squeezing him tightly.

“Professor, please,” you pleaded quietly.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he grunted as he gripped your hip harder still, pulling your ass flush against him before he began rutting into you desperately. He leaned his weight onto you as he kept you pushed down, flush against the table. His hand left your skirt and found your clit, adding to the growing pressure building in your abdomen as he rubbed you, fucking you and stimulating all the most sensitive spots along your walls. Before you knew you were, you came completely undone, the familiar white hot pleasure induced euphoria spreading through you as you came around him, squeezing him like you never wanted him to leave you empty again. And truth be told, you didn’t. You’d never felt so fulfilled or satisfied in your life.

He could barely move as you came around him, but after a few more thrusts, he shot his load inside of you, cursing under his breath as he came, panting. After a moment, he pulled out gently and slid your panties back up for you, pushing your skirt down before he fixed himself. You were still reeling from the intensity of it all when you stood, a little wobbly, from the table.

Cute planned ending:

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you breathed, turning around to face Bucky. “We really just did that,” you said, still in shock at yourself while Bucky grinned proudly before looking around a bit, just making sure you were still alone. He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you close, leaning down to kiss you deeply, letting you go for a second before kissing you harder again.

“We did. And now,” he said, ushering you back to your seat, urging you to sit down, “you're gonna finish editing your paper while I grade a few more of these midterms, no distractions.”

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered as you looked up at him still standing while you were seated once again. “I’m the one sitting here with come leaking out of me,” you complained.

“Is it that distracting for you, sweetheart?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Yes,” you responded.

“No problem. I can help with that, too,” he smirked as he got down on his knees, crawling under the table to kneel at your feet as your eyes went wide while you watched him. He pulled you to the edge of the chair before he slipped your panties off completely. “That essay better be ready to turn in by the time I get back up, do you understand?” he warned. You could feel his breath against your folds as he got closer.

“Yes, professor,” you mewled pathetically as you spread your thighs even wider for him.

Alternative kind of darkish ending:

You felt eyes on you as you turned around, but it wasn’t Bucky. You looked up to the second floor and could have sworn you saw Andy passing by, worry flooding through you instantly. You weren’t sure, though. Maybe he was really just walking by and hadn’t seen anything. Maybe it was no one at all and you were just imagining things. You almost didn’t even want to say anything about it, just act like you hadn’t seen, or thought you saw, anyone at all.

Until Andy came knocking on the bookcase, from the opposite direction, startling you as you gasped and spun around, hands flying to make sure your skirt was smoothed down completely, unconscious backing toward where Bucky was. Andy looked between you both for a second before he spoke, a knowing, devilish smirk growing on his face as he looked at you in a way you’d never seen him look at anyone before. Lewdly, leering, lustful, even.

“What’s goin’ on down here?”

You looked back at Bucky, hoping to find some kind of reassurance or protection, but he was completely unphased at the presence of his friend.

“You enjoy the show?” he asked, unamused.

“I think I could put on better,” he shrugged, eyes still locked on you, even as Bucky pulled you into his side.

“What do you think, sweetheart? Wanna let him try?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky x plus size!reader #professor!bucky #professor barnes #professor bucky x reader #professor barnes x reader #professor!bucky barnes #professor!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #andy barber x curvy!reader #soft!dark bucky x reader #andy barber

2K notes · View notes

luffyvace · 2 months

Note

Helloooo! I saw ur request open and writing for saiki k! I see so little context of him 😭

May I request where saiki is dating his favorite author(she is an anonymous writer) and he didn't know (like she Naver though to tell him about it and she Naver really think of her work when w him or when in school) and maybe finding out through his dad that she is ? And how would he react and think after he found out ?

(sorry if my request was long 😭)

Yeah me too !! 😭

ohhh wow! What an interesting and fun request! Thank you :}

(you used ‘she’ so reader implied is fem but I won’t mention you being a girl just in case <3)

Don’t worry it’s not too long at all~

☕️🌷

Everyday you get home after school and write, as a comfort and to make some change to buy things you like :)

You do publish your work, but your an anonymous writer

your sales have been doing really good and everything! Your forever grateful!

it makes you happy seeing as though writing makes you happy and is your comfort!

so the fact that you could be doing that for others makes you joyous 💓

there’s also your boyfriend Kusuo!

he’s a reserved and genuine guy who treats you very well :)

you’ve been an item for a while now and your really happy in your relationship!

man you’ve really got it going for yourself!! 😋💪

this company has been loyally publishing your work for quite some time which makes you satisfied to see they like your writing!

school’s good too! You and Kusuo have a friend group who you go out with pretty often

(alright that was a little bit of some reader POV now here’s the fun part! 😆)

Kusuo finished his coffee jelly and was going down stairs to put the dishes in the sink

until he spotted his dad reading his favorite book/manga!!

”hey dad what book is that?”

his dad’s inner dialogue: “holy crap my son is talking to me!”

“oh uh nothing son just uh (book/manga title name)—I uhh, brought a copy from work home”

”they have that series there?”

”yeah! We do! We have every chapter! Actually, we’re the ones publishing them! Do want me to get you the set?…..if I lick my bosses shoes a couple extra times I’m sure I could pull a few strings..”

”thanks.”

his dad’s inner dialogue: “holy crap I just had a conversation with my son! He was wanted to talk to…me! I can’t believe it..!”

saiki’s inner dialogue: “goodness..😒🤦”

”n-no problem son! Heheh..”

He was gonna go back to his room but stopped at the stairs

“hey dad..the author uses a pen name..do you know who they are?”

“Huh-! Oh!- yeah I do! I’ve met them in person actually- do you wanna meet them?”

Kusuo nods and walks off

his dad then proceeds to dance in his living room, as he’s had a successful conversation with his son that Kusuo started 🕺🕺

Later that week, saiki and his dad wait for you to show up at his job with the latest chapter

he was indeed able to pull a few strings…by licking some shoes..

when you walk in Kusuo’s dad came up to you and (re)introduced you to his son

”Kusuo this is (Name), the author you asked me to introduce you to. (Name), meet my son Kusuo”

you looked surprised to see Kusuo and that he wanted to meet you?? I mean you know your anonymous but he likes your work?! You had no idea he was buying!

Kusuo has a slightly amused expression on his face

“Kusuo? You…”

..were at a loss of words at such a funny situation! (LOL)

you two ended up explaining both sides of the situation

you said you love to write, but anonymously and you never got around to telling him

he said this is his favorite series from you and your his favorite author, he’s been buying for a while to be frank!

ohhh!

this may be the way his parents found out you were a couple and let me tell you he was less than pleased..(not that he wanted to hide it but his parents…..:^ yeah 😃)

Saiki got the privilege of getting the first copy of the latest chapter before it was even published! :)

and now he always does <3

he also has the perk of getting it for free!

horray! Now he can save his money for coffee jelly- 😚

LOL not that he doesn’t wanna support you

you simply give it to him and he accepts ♥︎

he also gets the honors of helping you decide things for the story!

He gleefully reads the parts in which his opinion was inserted

however he doesn’t want to influence any major plot points- he doesn’t like spoilers :P

(It is possible he persuades people at school to buy your books so you can have the funding to keep going and make you happy simultaneously—but we’ll never really know 🤷‍♀️ )

your actually my first saiki k request! Thank you! I appreciate it love!

hopefully you had a good meal out of these headcanons cherished anonymous~ ☺️

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ellephlox · 2 years

Text

Obstinacy

Summary: You get sick and refuse to let Matt help you because you don’t want him to get sick, too — the question is, how long can you keep him away?

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader

Warnings: Some gross pneumonia descriptions, light swearing, nothing else!

A/N: So I’ve been away for awhile, and I’m really sorry about that. I’ve been trying to write my own book and I finished the second draft, so taking the time for fan fiction has been on the back burner lately. But of course with the RETURN OF OUR BELOVED KING on She-Hulk, I had to take the time to write something because IM STILL FREAKING OUT GUYS MATT IS BACK AND HES SO AMAZING AND HOT AND ALLSKJF LSDKFJLSKDJFLSDK

You felt the chest pain on your way home from work — the kind that arrived out of nowhere, as though it dropped from the sky into your lungs, and seriously made you wonder how colds were able to work that quickly.

Of course, maybe it wasn’t a cold. You kept your hopes up as you cooked dinner, testing your chest a few times with a few large intakes of breath, but each time was the same result: a small tickle in the back, like a little voice saying, Hey, I’m here, and you’re going to be miserable for the next couple of days!

Which really stunk, if you were being honest. It was getting towards mid-October and you were hoping to carve pumpkins with Matt or do some other corny autumn activity that every other normal couple did in the city. Not that you two weren’t normal. But other couples didn’t really have to contend with the whole I’ll-see-you-later-honey-after-I-beat-up-some-bad-guys-tonight, and you figured it must make movie nights a lot more frequent for most people than it did for you and Matt. That was another thing on your list, too — watching a horror movie to get into the Halloween spirit.

“I’m not into horror movies,” Matt had said when you’d pitched the idea to him. “Audio commentary kind of kills the whole scary aspect.”

“Then you’re watching the wrong movies. I don’t mean movies with gallons of blood and cheap jump scares. I mean psychological horrors, the kinds that make you stay awake at night because they’re that freaky. We’re doing it, Murdock, whether you want to or not.”

Whether you want to or not, however, didn’t include the extenuating circumstances of getting sick.

It took longer than usual to get up the stairs to your apartment. You felt so drained that you wouldn’t have minded showering and then crashing into bed, if you weren’t hungry. The wind rattled at your windows as you cooked a big pot of rice, enough to last the next few days. You’d bought fixings yesterday to make a homemade curry with it, but one look at your pantry and you scrapped those plans in exchange for half a jar of pesto with a dubious expiration date on it. Matt wasn’t supposed to be over until after seven in the evening, thanks to the unforgiving hours of lawyering, but you called him as you stirred the pesto in with the rice.

“I was wondering when you’d call,” he said. His voice was lighthearted.

“Hi,” you said, as casually as possible. “How was your day?”

“I officially reduced the pile of paperwork on my desk from ten inches high to eight inches high, so I’d call it a success. You at your place?”

“Yeah. Hey, I wanted to let you know that I think I’m coming down with something, so maybe you should stay at your own place tonight.” Before Matt could ask, you added, “I’m fine. Just one of the colds that’s going around. But I’d feel horrible if you got it.”

“What about the pumpkins?”

“Pumpkins can wait. I haven’t even bought them yet.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed, and your stomach flipped. What a way to boost my self-esteem that he actually likes me. “How about we just don’t share sodas, then?”

You frowned. “Last time this happened, I told you to stay away from me and then you just ended up kissing me. The next day, lo and behold, you started coughing. So, no. Not happening.”

“You kissed me, if I remember correctly.”

“Excuse me? What kind of a lawyer are you? That’s gaslighting, sir.”

He continued, ignoring you. “Maybe I’ll just hear some suspicious noises coming from your apartment tonight. And then I’ll have to investigate, because it’s my civic duty as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. And when I see a beautiful girl, sitting on the couch and pathetically eating rice and pesto alone, I’ll just have to join her. Accidentally, of course.”

“What I’m interpreting from that is that you go cuddle up with any girl that you find eating alone in her apartment.”

“What I’m interpreting is that Matt says he’s doing all these dangerous things at night but really he’s just chilling out while enjoying the lavish praise of being a local superhero,” Foggy said, his voice distant in the background.

You snorted. “Am I on speakerphone?”

“No,” Foggy answered, sounding far too cheerful for someone working far beyond sunset. “Matt just keeps his phone volume weirdly high for someone who supposedly has super-hearing.”

“I do have super-hearing, Foggy.”

“Then how are you not shattering your eardrums? Between your phone volume and crashing at girls’ apartments to eat rice and pesto, I’m really doubting this whole Daredevil façade,” Foggy said.

“Anyway,” Matt cut in, “I’ll pop in tonight, just to bring over some food and meds. Do you want anything specific?”

“Matt, really. I don’t want you catching this. And it’s late, you should get home and actually get some sleep for once. I’m fine, it just feels like a cold.” You would have elaborated, but your chest decided to seize at that moment, and you had to trail off quickly before it became apparent in your voice.

He sort of listened to you that night. He had swung by (through the window? Or with the spare key you’d given him? There was no way to know) and dropped off food, but it was while you were asleep, and it looked as though he’d only gone into the kitchen then left.

You’d only found the food when you wandered in blearily at three in the morning, sweating and freezing at the same time. There was no point for the thermometer; a fever was obvious and you didn’t particularly care what the number was. The cough was worse, though. It made it hard to fall back asleep — every few seconds you’d feel as though your lungs were spasming, and the back of your throat felt as though it had been bitten by fire ants.

Sirens rang in the distance. You hoped it wasn’t for something Matt was involved in; not because you didn’t trust him to handle it, but because it was three in the morning and you’d kick his ass if he wasn’t sleeping at this point.

Then the headache hit you. Maybe you wouldn’t be kicking his ass anytime soon.

The pressure was enough to make you stumble into the counter as you rummaged for a glass of water. Everything about your arms felt off, as though your muscles had been crushed into powder, and you misjudged your grasp on the glass. It fell, crashing to the floor and skating outwards like a nebula of knives. Automatically you reached for the paper towels, and in your haze you stepped forward.

Barefooted.

Glass crunched under your foot and you swore, not at the pain but at your own stupidity. It took another half an hour to bandage up the bottom of your foot and at that point you were too exhausted to finish cleaning up the glass.

When you woke up next, sun was filtering through your curtains and your mouth was as dry as though you’d swallowed ten cotton swabs. Dazed, you picked up your phone, and squinted at the notifications; one missed call from Matt and a followup text. Quickly you sent him an I’m okay message and then fell back onto your pillow.

The fever felt worse. Goosebumps ran up and down your legs, but you were simultaneously sweaty under your sheets, so you threw them off to go shower. Only then did you remember the glass you’d stepped on because your foot protested angrily as soon as you placed it onto the carpet.

Hopping was the only option remaining, and that expended just about every ounce of energy you’d garnered while sleeping, so that you just about collapsed against the bathroom wall, wheezing, by the time you’d made it. And of course that was when your phone rang, so you hopped back to your room, and barely made it in time before it went to voicemail.

“Hello?” you croaked.

“That’s all I need to hear. I’m coming over.”

“I... what?”

“Yeah. You sound terrible, Y/N.” Matt’s voice was overly concerned, and you didn’t like it at all; you could practically feel the pity coming off of him. At least, it felt like pity. And that wasn’t what you wanted.

“Matt, not only will I personally make you rue the day that you step foot in here while I’m sick, but—” You broke off, coughing, and wincing at the same time because you could imagine Matt’s expression on the other end.

“I don’t like talking to you over the phone,” he said in a low voice. “I hate not hearing your heartbeat, hearing your lungs, feeling your temperature. You’re being overruled. I’m coming.”

“Don’t you have to be at the court today?”

“Not until ten.”

Defeated, you flung the phone on the other side of the room. That conversation sucked out everything you had, and you gave up on the idea of taking a shower. The bed looked much more comfortable. It didn’t help that your breaths were getting alarmingly short, and it was difficult to draw in anything more than a quick inhale. Your eyes were closed for about five seconds before they popped back open.

Matt was coming. Damn it, damn it, damn it. You went to the windows and locked them all, then crossed to the front door. He had a spare key, but you also had a bolt, and you slid it across, feeling somewhat proud of yourself for having made the trek to the entryway. The bar is very, very low at this point.

You’d run a marathon right now before letting Matt get anywhere near you. That resolve was the only thing penetrating the fog around your head, and you double-checked the windows again. It wasn’t as though he’d be leaping and climbing up to them, anyway; he was coming from the office, and would therefore be in his lawyer suit. With the number of people down on the streets and the broad daylight, Matt would be hard-pressed to make it up to your fire escape without the newspaper headline being BLIND ACROBAT BREAKING AND ENTERING IN HELL’S KITCHEN the next day.

Sure enough, ten minutes later Matt was outside your door, and his sharp rap on the door did nothing to make you move. You sat at the counter, sipping on some water, and shook your head. “Nope. Not happening.”

“Y/N, I can hear the crackling in your lungs,” he said, his patience more intact than you would have expected. He thinks he’s going to win.

“My lungs aren’t crackling. They’re just... not feeling so hot.” Now overly-conscious of your breathing, you tried to make your breaths smoother and less obviously sick.

There was a pause on the other side of the door. “You’ve got too fast of a heartbeat. Unlock the bolt or I’ll kick the door down.”

“Yeah, my heart’s racing, because there’s a man threatening to kick my door down,” you said, and feeling inspired, you clicked the on button of the remote next to you. The television flashed to life, showing the weather report, and you turned the volume up. Take that, Matt. “See? No more lung crackling or racing heartbeats.”

The only issue was that now you could hardly hear him. You barely made out his next sentence, it was so faint on the other side of the door. “I can still hear both, you know,” he said, muffled. “You know how many televisions there are in the average block of apartments that I have to filter out every single night?”

“Shit.” You shut the television off. “Listen away, then. It’s not going to change anything because I’m not letting you in.”

“I wasn’t kidding about kicking the door down.”

"And I’m not kidding about not letting you in. Plus, you’d have some tough questions to answer when my neighbors report you for kicking down my door, Devil Man.”

“Why won’t you accept help when you need it? You really need a doctor.”

“Hypocrite,” you said under your breath, relishing the fact that he could hear you.

“I can hear you.” Just as you’d expected. “And what I do is irrelevant to the fact that you’re currently sitting in your apartment with what’s probably pneumonia.”

“Oh, it’s not pneumonia,” you said dismissively, though you felt awful enough that he was probably right. At least, your lungs seemed to concur with that diagnosis, and as if to verbally agree with him you coughed, wheezing and choking for air.

“If I didn’t have to be at the court in half an hour, I’d go home and get into the suit just to have an excuse to come through your window right now.” Matt was pissed, that was for sure. There was a dangerous undertone to his voice, softened only by that ever-present concern in what he was saying.

“I know, Matt.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s a lost cause, alright? Tomorrow I’ll be feeling a lot better and then maybe — maybe — I’ll let you come in. And that’s if we keep all the windows open for fresh air and—”

“Why do I smell your blood?”

You glanced down at your foot. Traitor. It had stopped bleeding ages ago, but you should’ve changed the bandage again one more time before Matt showed up. “I’m... doing acupuncture. On myself.”

“Y/N.”

“Fine. I made a blood oath and pricked my thumb to assure myself that I will never, ever let you catch a sickness from me.”

“In ten seconds this door is coming down unless you tell me. And if you could hear my heartbeat, you’d know I’m not lying.”

“Fine! I just stepped on some glass, okay? But my foot is fine, it’s seen worse days. I mean, you should’ve seen that time that I got a pedicure and the lady told me my heels were the most cracked she’d seen in a long time.” You were rambling, and that wasn’t a good idea, because it made you lose your breath and then you were gasping for air.

After another five minutes of arguing that ended only when you swore to call the doctor if you got any worse, he left, grumbling that Foggy would kill both of you if he was late for court, and that was the only reason he was giving up — “temporarily”.

Only when it was too late did you realize that was a mistake, and that you should have let him help.

It was past two in the afternoon when you woke up from a nap, and every muscle in your body felt as though it were frozen. You were trembling slightly from the cold, but couldn’t muster the energy to even sit up and grab the blanket at the foot of your bed. It was difficult to swallow, and you clutched at your throat, certain that someone must be standing over you and clasping their hands around your neck, but there was no one there.

“Matt,” you whispered, expecting him to be there, or to hear you, but there was no one. Taking slow breaths, you tried to calm down on your own. One, two, three. One, two, three. All you could manage were short, raspy breaths that hardly got enough air, and your head pounded. Blindly you reached out for your glass of water, and nearly dropped it again, your hands were shaking so much. The feeling of your lips against the rim was like pressing a dried sponge to the edge of a bowl and the water tasted sour in your mouth.

And then you tried swallowing. It was as though someone had blocked up your throat, because you couldn’t swallow, and you gasped, heart racing as panic flooded through you; for a moment you couldn’t breathe and then you finally coughed up the water, chest heaving from the sharpness of each cough. You grabbed a tissue, hacking into it for at least another thirty seconds, and finally a glob of mucus came up and your airway cleared up just enough that you could breathe a bit more.

You almost tossed the tissue to the floor without looking at it, but a flash of red caught your eye.

Blood. In the mucus.

That was the tipping point for you. Didn’t people die shortly after coughing up blood in the movies? That was how it went. A character coughs, looks into their hand, and then resignedly tucks it away without the other characters seeing. It was like the knoll of death, ringing in your ears.

You hardly knew what you were doing as you dialed Matt’s number, not even thinking about what you were tapping into your phone but allowing muscle memory to guide you.

“Hello?” He picked up almost immediately.

“Matt—” You started to speak his name, but halted; it was too painful. Dropping your voice to a whisper, you started over. “Matt, I think I need you here.”

“What? What is it?”

“I’m—” You glanced down at the tissue. Literally dying here? That was a surefire way to make Matt have a heart attack. “I’m not doing so well. I might take you up on your offer to help.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be over in five minutes. Did you call the doctor already?”

“No.” The thought of calling the doctor was exhausting on its own.

Matt seemed to notice that. “I’ll call,” he assured you. “Can you breathe alright?”

“Not really.” Tears were spiking in your eyes and you brushed them away. “I just coughed and... there was some blood in it.” You wheezed for breath, the drawing in of air rattling everything inside of you and getting caught at the top of your throat.

“I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“But—”

“No, sweetheart. You need a real doctor. I’ll be over in a minute.”

Somehow you must have fallen asleep again, because Matt was lifting you from the bed and you wrapped your arms around him. “Can’t breathe,” you whispered, gasping for breath.

“I know. I can hear your lungs,” Matt said, voice strained. “I’ve got a cab waiting on the street. Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?”

“I... I can walk.” You slung an arm around him and made your way slowly out of the room, limping with every step on your bandaged foot. Matt, to his credit, allowed you to do what you could. His tie was loosened and his suit jacket was gone, but he still wore a button-down, tucked into his pants.

“Bet you won your case, then,” you whispered, hardly even aware of what was coming out of your mouth. “No one can... say no to this.”

“This?”

“Hm. This.” You meant to nod up and down at Matt, but it came across as more of a head shake. “You.”

And then your assertion that you could walk proved difficult to fulfill, so you redirected your efforts to not face-planting in your living room, despite the strong, steady hands Matt kept on you the entire time. Once you reached your stairs he took over for the most part; your feet were hardly touching the ground with the amount of support he was giving.

That was where your memory cut out. You must have passed out, because the next time you opened your eyes, it was in the hospital bed, and Matt was reading next to you, his long gaze fixed on the wall in front of him as his fingers danced over the text.

“Hi,” you whispered lamely. Everything about you was groggy and it was hard enough just to focus on him.

Him. Only he could look handsome in a hospital. At some point he’d exchanged the suit for a tee shirt and sweats, and his hair stuck out at every angle possible. You wondered vaguely if he’d come from Fogwell’s.

He set the book down, relief evident on his face. “Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?”

You ignored his question. “How do you always manage to look good?”

He nudged you. “I should be the one asking you that.”

“That’s... the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. Even if you weren’t blind, it’d be a lie.” You closed your eyes, then opened them again. The ceiling was too white. “What happened?”

"Aspiration pneumonia.”

“Hm?”

“You have aspiration pneumonia,” he said. “Which just happens to be a type of pneumonia that’s not contagious.”

You meditated on this. “So?”

“So you could’ve let me into your apartment, that whole time,” he said, looking distinctly indignant, and it was enough to make you laugh. The laugh was short-lived, because it quickly transformed into a wracking cough that made your entire chest throb, but Matt was on his feet in an instant, holding your hand.

Only when the coughing stopped did you remember the bolt on your door. “Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“How’d you get in?”

“Broke down the door, like I promised.”

“Are... are you serious? What about the neighbors?”

He laughed. “You know, breaking down a door isn’t incriminating evidence that I’m Daredevil. I told them you were having an emergency, and when they saw you, they believed me.”

“They saw me?” You didn’t remember an audience when Matt was helping you out of the apartment.

“Well, you were taking your sweet time on the stairs, and coughing loudly enough for anyone in a mile radius to hear you, so yeah, they wanted to see what was happening.”

You buried your face in your hands. “That’s just great. And now, what, is my apartment wide open for anyone to go in?”

“No, I called in a favor with Foggy, and he’s hanging out there until someone can come in and fix it.”

“Even better. Now I’m indebted to Foggy.”

Matt smiled coyly. “Oh, and I should mention—”

“Oh, no. What?”

“—that there’s something else you’ll love about all of this.”

“Stop smiling like that. Why are you smiling like that?”

“Aspiration pneumonia is commonly associated with the institutionalized elderly. In other words, it’s a nursing home problem.”

“A nursing home problem?”

“A nursing home problem,” he confirmed. “I was thinking that maybe for your next birthday I could get you fitted for dentures.”

“Hilarious. Really, so funny. You really should have been a comedian. I swear to you that the next time you get sick, I’m going to make fun of you and you’ll never hear the end of it. Got it?”

He grinned and squeezed your hand. “Murdocks don’t get sick.”

“That is the second biggest lie I’ve ever heard. I seem to recall that time you projectile-vomited off of the Ferris wheel.”

“Because I was motion-sick, not sick-sick.”

Your eyelids were already getting heavy just from the five-minute conversation. You beckoned him closer and leaned onto his shoulder, pressing yourself into his warmth. He smelled like fresh deodorant and coffee. “Pumpkin carving as soon as I can leave?”

“Definitely,” he said, placing your fingers onto the pulse that drummed under his wrist. “And this time, I’m not lying.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #Daredevil #daredevil x reader #marvel #MCU #hurt/comfort #reader #reader insert

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kuroshitsuji-scenarios · 4 months

Text

Commission – Bestseller

Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x Reader

Words: 4,363

Prompt: Sebastian makes a contract with someone who wants to become the world’s bestselling author. This time, however, he's willing to spice things up a little.

Warnings: None.

[ commission me ]

At first, you wanted to shout: “Go to hell!” but quickly found it quite ironic and eventually sat back down, picked your pen up and pretended to be writing something in the notebook, while the only thing that appeared on the blank pages were curly lines. Honestly, you could hardly recall the last time you met someone who’d be as eager to get on your nerves as the man who was now standing in front of you. The smirk on his lips only proved that the whole conversation you just had went according to his sly plan and in the end he was gratified with your outburst of emotions. Not a very common occurrence, he had to add, and therefore even more pleasant to observe.

“My, my”, he shook his head in a disappointed manner, as if he was scolding a child. “I wasn’t aware that this kind of information will have such an impact on you. Could it be that you’ve grown worried?”

“Worried?” You shot him a deathly glare. “I’m not worried. I’m angry and I’m starting to consider which side you are actually on. What made you think that killing (or whatever happened to that journalist) was such a bright idea?”

The demon smiled, the expression on his face clearly amused as the whole situation seemed to be rather entertaining for him. It’s been a long time since he actually gave his new contractor a little push—not to the right side, of course, but rather to watch you struggle and keep the balance as you always did in the end. It was almost as funny as listening to people beg for their lives, while all of them knew that there was no coming back once he was summoned.

“Sebastian,” you hissed his name through the gritted teeth. “Answer me.”

“Well, I must disagree with you on using the term ‘bright’ regarding this little incident.” He pretended to be lost in thoughts, touching his chin and looking at the wall of your office where all the prizes, photographs taken with famous people of literary business and newspaper articles were framed and hung on display for everyone to see what you were capable of when it came to using an imagination and pen. Or keyboard, as it was nowadays. “I’d rather go for ‘enticing’. ‘Compelling’, perhaps. ‘Thrilling’ even. ‘Enjo—”

“That’s enough.” You interrupted his speech, considering it pointless and a waste of your precious time. “I don’t care why you did that, I want you to stop. You’re perfectly aware that I’ve been giving interview after interview for the last two weeks and I’m going to continue doing that no matter what kind of dirty games you decide to play behind my back.”

“How threatening…”

“Moreover,” You pointed a finger at him. “If you keep doing this, I’ll have the right to consider it as acting against the rules of our contract.”

“There was not a single rule included which could prevent me from adding a little spice to the generally boring outcome of events. I thought you were aware of that. Signing books, doing interviews, all of that blown to make your ego grow until it pops.” Sebastian clicked his fingers to highlight the meaning of his words. “Like a bubble.”

“Hilarious.” You couldn’t frown no more even if you tried. “Now let's get back on topic. I forbid you to interrupt my hard work with your silly, little demon games. You’ll have your reward in the end so right now you’re only wasting your own time, because no matter what you do, I simply won’t give up. It can take the next forty years to complete while you’re stuck here with me, it doesn’t matter. So if you want to finish it quickly, I’d recommend you getting out of my way.”

There was a spark of amusement behind the demon’s eyes as he carefully observed you—as if something in your words struck him in a pleasant way. Undoubtedly, he made a good choice while deciding to answer this new contractor.

“That’s exactly what I meant while speaking about the lack of something enticing,” he admitted before turning on his heel and heading out of the office, his fingers intertwined behind his back and the corners of his lips turned upward in an eerie smile.

Pouring rain hitting the windows reminded you of a thousand fingers patting the glass in an unrhythmical manner. Focusing on a single droplet sliding down to the window frame didn’t help you concentrate, especially not with the pleasant silence now filling your bedroom up nor the fact that the last time you allowed yourself to rest was more than nineteen hours ago. Your body was giving you more significant signs of exhaustion with every passing minute and yet, you didn’t want to waste any of your time. Not when you’ve gotten to the perfect plot twist of your upcoming story—the second volume of the world’s bestseller book sold in millions of copies all around the globe. Although your success was guaranteed, you couldn’t simply sit and do nothing while waiting for applause.

You jolted when the sudden thud hit the glass right next to the desk where you were sitting. It was loud, like a lost pigeon didn’t notice the window and flew into it at full speed but when you stood up to check whether it was hurt, laying somewhere near, it was impossible to notice any sharp shapes in the downpour. Perhaps it flew away or maybe it was just your brain tricking you into finally going to bed. Whatever it was, eventually it made you close the laptop and rub your tired eyes until you saw the stars behind the eyelids—and when you opened them again, you found out that the shadow in the corner of the bedroom is unusually dark compared to the rest.

Almost as if there was a tall, slim figure standing there, facing the wall, covered in black robes.

Your initial reaction was paralyzing terror. Blood ran down from your face and in the next moment blew in your heart causing your cheeks to immediately heat. You could only sit there, watching the silhouette with unblinking eyes as your mind wanted to scream, to run, to fight, to—

“Sebastian.” The demon’s name left your lips almost involuntarily, just like shouting ‘help!’ came naturally to the drowning man. “I order you to stop this nonsense immediately.”

At first, nothing happened and for a moment you thought that maybe you weren’t even in your bedroom anymore, that the image in front of you was but a photograph glued to your face while the real you was dead, burning and bleeding and shrieking and—

“My, my…” You blinked at the sound of a familiar voice and the shadow from the corner was gone; surprisingly, you could also breathe freely again. “There’s no fun with you…”

Instead of the terrifying derealization, you were once again safe in your bedroom, everything in its own place. By the door, however, stood Sebastian with the same amused smirk on his handsome face, as if it was the only genuine emotion he was actually capable of showing.

“Fun?” You stood up from the chair, your fingers still slightly trembling after the heavy anxiety attack.

“I was worried that you might get some kind of… writer’s block, as they say,” he stated and nodded matter-of-factly. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you losing your spirit.”

Oh, how much you wanted to rip that happy expression off his face. Or maybe slap him. Or both. In all honesty, you could do it by giving him a simple order and yet, it didn’t feel right. What kind of satisfaction would you get from simply forcing him into your own will instead of actually making him feel a certain way? The leash you got him on was rather long, as the demon was almost free to roam around and do as he pleases, and maybe that was why you found those rare moments of his confusion so precious.

And so, instead of scolding him or making him apologize, you simply decided to say:

“If you’re getting so bored during our contract, perhaps you’d enjoy it if we played fetch for a while? I have a feeling that it might be just your cup of tea.”

He didn’t say anything and yet, you could feel his disapproving stare burning into your back as you walked to the wardrobe. Surprisingly though, the memory of the silhouette in the dark corner still seemed to linger in your memory, although not as a bad one. Instead, you couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t just what you were looking for to fill the plot in the next chapter of your book.

“I can’t believe it…” you muttered, raising the menu card higher in front of your face to hide it from the not-so-subtle photographer who was waiting for his perfect shot outside the café. So far, you managed to run inside the building without being filmed and you could call it quite a success considering how tense the situation grew since the latest news got released to the public.

“The greatest author of the decade caught in love!”

“Who is the mysterious man by her side?”

“Can we expect the next volume to be delayed due to the newfound romance?”

The headlines of newspapers and celebrity gossip websites were screaming at you from every angle—so much that you started to wonder if there would be a journalist jumping out of your own fridge to ask a few questions before lunch. Since the rumor about your romance—yours and Sebastian’s—were fairly new, you still didn’t manage to calm the public with some words of truth and a little sneak peek into your personal love life. Not that it was your intention, it was all but a play, of course. Another necessary step taken to avoid getting accused of the disappearance you certainly had nothing to do with.

Which you couldn’t say about the demon sitting right next to you by the table.

“Me neither,” Sebastian clicked his tongue, while still eyeing the menu. “The prices have surely gone up since the last time I’ve been there. Not that it’s an issue with your budget now, is it?”

If you didn’t know better, you might have believed that the kind smile he put on was sincere. Still, with the amount of knowledge you possessed and the time you wasted on trying to clean up after his mischief, you wanted nothing but to make him regret everything he’s ever said or done. He was the one to put you into this situation, after all. Like a single puppy left home alone, Sebastian went first for your new slippers, then the table leg and now he was chewing on your precious sofa—the couch meaning your privacy and relative peace of mind.

“Don’t give me that look.” He placed the menu back on the polished wood. “It wasn’t me who said that we were dating.”

“You forced me to do this! How else could I get a reliable alibi that I didn’t, in fact, murder anyone and especially not my own best friend?”

“I’m certain there was a lot of different ways to prove that.” He waved at the waiter. “Did you pick your order yet?”

“I’m not hungry.” You whispered something about going to the toilet when the waiter approached you two and only came back when he was gone, now your favorite beverage waiting for you at the table and Sebastian slowly sipping his tea.

“Besides,” he continued after you sat back down, moving your chair so your back was facing the window. “This outcome isn’t so bad, as you can see. You’re now even more famous than before.”

“I didn’t want to be some stupid celebrity and have people wonder what kind of bikini I wear and whether I have cellulite or not—I wanted to be known for my hard work. It’s something completely different than being stalked for having a guy like you nearby.”

“A guy like me?” He raised his slim eyebrow. “I doubt that would make it to the first pages.”

“I don’t care. I need to figure it all out and you’re going to help me whether you like it or not.”

“How overbearing.” Sebastian chuckled. “Enlighten me then, how do you plan on making it right?”

That’s where he got you. You still didn’t have any solid plan to retrieve your freedom and intimacy back and with all this chaos happening around you, with the demon constantly scheming against you behind your back, you felt quite overwhelmed.

“That’s exactly what I thought.” He took a sip of his tea and placed the teacup back on the saucer. “And I suppose I have a perfect solution for this problem.”

“Meaning?” You wondered, hoping that this time you would finally hear some more useful news than another joke or allusion.

Instead of answering, Sebastian gently reached to you and placed his warm hand upon your cheek, caressing your lips with the featherlike touches of his thumb. His gaze was focused on you, slowly trailing from your eyes, through the curve of the nose down the mouth and back up again. He smiled at you but this time there was no insincerity behind it but rather pure fascination. Amazement, even, and one could say that also adoration.

It’s been a long time since Sebastian took a look at your soul, after all. Although he was present in your life almost everyday, it was quite rare for you to open up to him—you weren’t the type to cry your eyes out on his shoulder nor beg him for love. On the contrary. And for some odd reason he found it the most amusing—your soul, your price waiting to be paid hidden from his gaze, except for those tiny moments like this one when he was finally capable of looking you in the eyes and almost tasting your spirit at the tip of his tongue.

The sensation made him shiver with anticipation.

Eventually, Sebastian leaned forward and after not witnessing any kind of resistance from you, placed a soft, sweet kiss upon your lips. His own were still warm from the temperature of the tea he drank, tasting like herbs and honey, and his smell overwhelming your senses when you gave up to this gentle affection and closed your eyes to savor it. For the first time in months your heart started to beat faster but not because of stress or fear but rather excitement—something so trivial, you wouldn’t expect yourself of.

Sebastian kissed you slowly, barely nibbling at your lips and not taking any step further. His fingers left your cheek with an unpleasant coldness and rested at the crook of your neck, slightly pulling you closer but not strong enough to make you feel caged. Involuntarily you leaned toward him also, supported by the elbows on the wooden table and not paying attention to the fact that you have just most likely exposed yourself to all the people passing by the café. If the creepy paparazzi was still there, he had a once in a lifetime opportunity to immortalize the first official kiss of yours with your mysterious company.

And somehow, you thought it was alright. If you wanted your alibi to be solid, you should prove to everyone that Sebastian was, indeed, your husband and the mysterious disappearances had nothing to do with you.

Repeat a lie often enough and it becomes the truth.

Initially, Sebastian was like some kind of hideous decoration standing in the middle of the living room—painted in vivid colors, with weird, eye-catching shape and not fitting to any particular home decoration style. You could place an elephant there as well and the overall effect it had on the guests would be quite similar. He was an interruption, a sudden chance of weather, an anomaly in your life, the one you called for yourself and although you considered him to be a hassle most of the time, as months passed you found yourself paying less and less attention to the abstract puzzle at the center of the jigsaw. It wasn’t that he was becoming less visible or having less impact on your everyday life—on the contrary, Sebastian’s actions were as ostentatious as always, it was just you who started to tolerate and maybe even like the strange addition to your new life.

Indeed, one could even accuse you of enjoying his company too much, especially when you were sharing a bed, tangled in the bedding and droplets of sweat glistening on your temple. His fingers were delicate and movements calculated to bring you nothing but pleasure when he was caressing and massaging your naked body. In those moments, you found him beautiful. With a warm gaze, perfectly cut lips, strong jaw and slim silhouette he could stand on the same pedestal as countless of Greek sculptures stood. Right now, however, he was not cold as marble but rather soft and attentive, all the previous flirts replaced by what could be described as nothing but endless love and adoration.

Fortunately, you knew better than to trust the perfect mask he chose just for you. It didn’t stop you from indulging into the pleasure, though, for how could you deny yourself a spark of joy when in the end it was supposed to be him to devour your whole existence and turn you into nothing? It would be a shame to not take everything this man, this demon, had to offer.

You were walking down the shore, the view of setting sun rays dancing over the nearby buildings making it seem like the whole world has somehow turned into molten gold. Yellows and oranges painted your surroundings into the real piece of art, something you weren’t sure anyone could ever capture on the canvas with mere brushes. The town you decided to stay in (small and rather unknown, free from the crowds of tourists) had everything you could possibly need for an effective rest and refreshing inspiration—restaurants by the sea, both museums and clubs, promenade near the beach and a whole street of various shops. It was truly something new, the change of scenery making it easier to breathe and prepare for the upcoming premiere of a brand new video game based on your story alone.

You could say a lot of things about Sebastian and how he managed to get on your nerves like nobody else, but you had to admit that there wasn’t a single slip in his plan to make your biggest dream come true. Everything he promised you was truly happening, step by step, one at a time, but eventually you could clearly see the results. As much as you loved it, you couldn’t not notice how it was all leading to the end of your own story also.

“Lost in thoughts?” Sebastian asked, his long fingers intertwined with yours as you slowly passed by the sailboats docked to the pier. “Were you thinking about the grand premiere?”

“I thought I had nothing to worry about in this regard.” You peeked at him from under your sunglasses. “Was I mistaken?”

“No, not in the slightest. I assure you I took care of everything.”

“So it’ll be an indisputable success?” You insisted.

“Are you doubting your own skills all of a sudden?”

For the first time you left him without an answer. Perhaps it was the matter of the different surroundings or maybe it was the setting sun that brought this mood to you, but watching as it slowly drowned in the endless ocean you wondered how it will feel to have your soul sucked out of you. Will it hurt? Will you be scared? Or maybe you won’t notice it at all? Was it up to Sebastian to decide on how he will take it?

Your dreams were coming true, the very thing you craved for such a long period of time was finally yours, kept in your hands and there was no obstacle nor foe that could take that away from you, so why were you getting nostalgic all of a sudden?

“Should I take it as a ‘yes’?” Sebastian’s voice brought you back to reality but he didn’t give you enough time to answer. “My, my, I didn’t take you for an insecure type.”

“You shouldn’t worry your pretty, little head about things you won’t understand. Emotions are not your strong point, if I remember correctly?”

He chuckled but admitted you were right.

The oranges turned into burning red, making it seem as if the horizon was on fire. Behind your back, the sky was slowly fading from all its colors, leaving the thick stripes of pale pink, purple and navy blue at the east. You could spot a few stars shyly appearing there.

“I merely did what you ordered me to,” Sebastian continued and to your surprise, added further:. “I cannot say whether you would be able to achieve it with or without my intervention.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

“I’m speaking about the ‘right place and right time’ occurrence. Surely you know that your work is good as it is, don’t you?”

You stopped and looked at him confused, not really understanding where he was going with all this dialogue and unexpected confession. Pulling him slightly by the hand, you forced him to stop also.

“Explain yourself. Or should I get worried about you having a sun stroke?”

The demon tilted his head and you thought that he was going to kiss you again, just to make you forget about all those questions and doubts. Nevertheless, he knew that you were smart and wouldn’t simply be silenced by some sweet nothings.

“What do you think I did to make all your books bestsellers?”

You shrugged. It could be some kind of his hellish magic or personal charm which allowed him to get whatever he wanted wherever he got. Quite difficult to tell for an ordinary human, since he never bragged about his methods and you never cared enough to ask.

“I’m aware that you’re not familiar with my ways of working,” he admitted. “However, influencing a group of people can be rather troublesome, not to mention when the target group is reaching almost the whole world. Simply put, it would cost me a lot of time and energy to force them all into purchasing your precious books, leaving flattering reviews and recommending further and so, I decided to wait instead.”

“For the ‘right place and time’?” you quoted him.

“Exactly.” He gently pulled you after him so you could continue the afternoon stroll in the sunset. “I was waiting and observing the people involved until finally the perfect opportunity struck. That’s when I whispered a word or two to those who were in charge of certain matters, sneaked a copy of your manuscript et voilà! It doesn’t change the fact that the one who created and wrote those stories was you.”

The sounds of small waves swinging in the shore filled your brain with peaceful, rhythmical melody when you were analyzing Sebastian’s words over and over again. You were walking mindlessly by his side now, too lost in thoughts to notice that the circle of light finally hid behind the horizon and left the whole palette of colors above your head. The salty smell of the water was reaching your nose and you could hear people chatting and laughing somewhere in the distance—there was also music playing in one of the gardens of a nearby restaurant.

It was such a peaceful scenery, it completely didn’t match the chaos in your mind.

“Are you…” You cleared your throat, finding it difficult to form your thoughts into sentences. “Are you saying that I could have achieved all of that without your help?”

Sebastian smiled at you with such an adoration that it made your blood run cold.

“And you knew it from the very beginning? From the day we met?” You insisted, feeling as his silence started to fuel the spark of anger inside your heart.

“No, I cannot predict the future. All I did was calculate the turn of events and pick the best moment to strike. If it turned out that your books were a complete failure, then I’d have to intervene in a different way but fortunately, they were not. I suppose I can share this little secret of mine now that you almost reached your final goal.”

Your fingers were suddenly cold against his, the fresh breeze caressing the heated skin on your cheeks when you turned to the side and looked at the endless sea. You wondered if perhaps it was better to not know the truth and die clueless.

The smile which appeared on your lips was rather surprising to Sebastian and maybe it surprised even you. Whatever his intentions were, he wasn’t expecting you to react positively to this kind of news—you could cry and wail, cursing him for using you for his own gain, you could argue with him, accuse him of breaking the rules of the contract or tricking you into believing that you were completely hopeless without him, you could do anything! And yet, you simply smiled and then let out a happy chuckle.

Then, without a warning, you were the one to pull him to the side and head toward the restaurant where you could hear the music playing.

“Are you not going to respond in any way?” Sebastian frowned and you could clearly see that it was the first time in many centuries that someone managed to puzzle him.

You looked at him over your shoulder and pushed the sunglasses up your head to meet his stare. Then you laughed at his confused expression, so different from the everpresent smugness and confidence, and you swore that whatever was going to happen, it was worth living all those years, even if just for witnessing him making this face at how far he still was from understanding human nature.

“Well, what can I say?” You shrugged. “I told you I’m the best writer in the world.”

[ commission me ]

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebastian x reader #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian x you #sebastian michaelis x you #demons #commissions

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katiesbowlcut · 5 months

Note

hiii i saw u needed requests to blurbs/ headcanons so here i am 🤭 could u write julien x reader where julien has a crush on a random youtuber (that like talks about books and stuff) and phoebe and lucy makes fun of julien bc she wasn’t this type of person before and then one day this bookworm youtuber says that she’s going to a boygenius show and julien tries everything to meet reader?

pls and thank u

i hope this isn’t too long

julien baker x yt!crush ღ

format: blurb

warnings: none!

a/n: i literally fell in love with this the second i saw it omg it’s so cute<3 been working on some anxiety comfort ideas but can’t choose a member of muna or boygenius to do first so if there’s one anyone would like to be first please do request it!! thank you so much for all the likes on my stuff it means the world 💞

okay so, the boys are on tour but tonight is a very special night for them becauseeeee… they have a night off!! they go out, have some nice dinner then decide to just chill in the tour bus for the rest of the night because they don’t need to wake up extra early to go to their next tour destination

so julien is in her lil bunk (pls i can just imagine how snuggled up she is) and she is so beyond bored

so what do you do when you’re bored? you browse tiktok until you fry your brain!!

she’s scrolling on her fyp not really bothering to actually watch through any of the tiktoks she's starting, that is until she sees…you

she mutters a barely audible “woah”

within a minute she’s followed you and is now stalking your whole account

cut to around 20 minutes later and she’s holding her phone sideways (pretty close to her face but not that close that she can’t see) watching one of your youtube videos.

this spiral continues until she is that exhausted she physically can’t keep her eyes open anymore

for the next few weeks this is her new routine: getting ready for shows watching your videos, buying your favourite books online and reading them on her phone when she gets the chance. she never falls asleep without watching at least one of your videos & a few tiktoks

one time she’s watching your newest video after having to wait a whole excruciatingly long day, she’s got headphones in, she’s never been so relaxed until…

you say you HATE people who read books online

“just buy the real book? why can’t people put down their screens anymore” and you’re clearly not being serious as you laugh and continue to joke about how all millennials are just taller ipad kids

but julien? it is no joke to her. in an instant she has removed her online books and has planned to go to the nearest bookstore when she’s next free and buy them all ‘for real’

i feel like the moment phoebe and lucy find out is SO FUNNY like i can picture them all sat together before a show, lucy just talking about the most recent book she’s been reading when julien chimes in with “oh yeah i just finished reading that, so good”

silence fills the entire room… phoebe and lucy share a look of horror

“where’s julien and what have you done with her??” phoebe would joke absolutely cackling with lucy about it

this is where the ‘bullying’ starts and never ends!

somehow they manage to convince julien to give them your name so now all of boygenius + katie gavin follow you on tiktok AND instagram

after seeing this you obviously have to make a tiktok about it. your favourite band members of all time just followed you back! you continue to rant and rave about it in your tiktok, also choosing to mention that you are seeing boygenius the following week and how crazyyy it is that they have followed you for a reason unbeknownst to you

this causes julien to go into panic mode. she was going to be performing to you NEXT WEEK

jump forward a week to the show, it’s going great! julien spent the whole day checking your instagram to see where you were at and when you’d be arriving. there’s barely and service in the venue, so unfortunately, her last update was a photo of you in the queue (she definitely took a screenshot because you look amazing)

so, they’re around 5 songs into the show, then she spots you. you’re standing only one row back from the barrier. julien can’t help but stare because you look beautiful

phoebe and lucy take notice of this but play it off cool. they share a menacing look before phoebe leans into the mic and says, “so, anyone got a crush right now?”

julien swears she nearly puked the second she heard that.

the conversation drags on for what feels like hours to julien when in reality it was only really around 5 minutes, majority of it being taken up by the crowd screaming in response to their several questions about crushes

it goes quiet for a second

“jb has a crush… she’s actually here tonight” the crowd starts SCREAMINGGG. people literally praying it’s them (so real)

julien has now sat on the floor of the stage with her face completely buried in her knees, lucy is still standing in front of her microphone dying with laughter over how embarrassed julien is getting.

little did she know though, it was about to get so much worse!!

lucy had dmed you the night before and basically just told you that julien had like changed her whole personality because of her crush on you. she also very sneakily organised for you to come backstage after the show and meet for the first time ever!

PLEASEEE imagine LUCY DACUS messaging you randomly and telling you that JULIEN MF BAKER HAS A CRUSH ON YOU.

lil time skip to that but imagine julien stood there fiddling with her fingers while she waits for you because she’s so nervous

you asking her the best books she’s read because of you<33

i can perfectly picture lucy and phoebe just stood there like ‘😁’ before having an “oh shit” moment and realising they’re intruding LMAO

your first date is to your favourite bookstore btw

I LOVE SOFT MASCS. (i am one)

a/n: this is my first blurb ever 😮 i’m so sorry i didn’t see this until now! hope you liked it :) again please feel free to send any other requests you have i love munagenius 🫶

#julien baker #julien baker x reader #boygenius #boygenius x reader #live laugh love julien baker #I LOVE HER SO MUCHHHH #not proofread

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judysxnd · 1 year

Note

OK girl we need some sexy time with pedro × reader . Write it how you like for us💋❤

OKAY the other day I just said to someone that I wasn’t comfortable writing smut and all, but im going to try to go as further as possible. Also, I am listening to “double fantasy” by The Weeknd (oh my god I love him so much) as I write this.

Update: OH MY- OH MY GOD!!!! I can’t believe it!! I dit it!!! And I like it!! Also I didn’t really know if you were actually asking for smut, so I did it anyway. I’m so proud of me for being able to write sexual content. I am still not that comfortable doing it though, but for now it is manageable.

Minors, please do not engage, +18 only!

Warnings: sexual content

——————————————————————————————

It’s both your day off today. And it’s been like that for almost two weeks. Taking two weeks off was very much needed, knowing all the work you’ve both been doing. You were exhausted, it was the least you could say. The first week, you left. You both really needed to disconnect a little. The second week, you just decided to chill home.

Today was Wednesday, and, not going to lie, you were bored. You got up around 10am, Pedro not so long after.

“What are wee going to do today?” You asked, as you were making coffee for the both of you. Pedro was next to you, leaning on the counter.

“I have no idea” he yawned

“Here” you said, giving him his coffee

“Thank you mama” he smiled. He kissed your cheek, which made you blush. You both headed outside, enjoy the warmth of the sun.

You had lunch around 1pm, then you decided to tan a little while Pedro was reading a book next to you.

“Damn” You heard Pedro say. You were laying on your stomach so you couldn’t really see what he was doing.

“What?” You felt a hand move the strap of your bathing suit a little

“You- how did you tan so fast?” You laughed

“Monoï”

“Mon- what?”

“It’s an oil, that makes you tan faster”

“Wait- you’re literally putting oil on to cook yourself?” you both laughed

“If you say it like that- well yeah”

“Why didn’t you take your top off?”

“What?” You said turning to face him

“You know, not to have strap marks”

“I don’t mind them”

“Oh okay”

“And I’m not really a fan of public nudity”

“Public?” He laughed “who’s there to look at you?”

“Well you, but if I start tanning without the top off here, it’s not to put it back on somewhere else, there’s no point in doing it either way”

“Wh- me? I literally see you naked-” you smirked

“If you just want me to take it off just say it” you sat in front of him. His eyes wondered on your body, obviously on your breasts, then back to your eyes.

“Okay, take it off then” not moving your eyes from his, your hands slowly started to undo the knots of the straps of your bathing suit. First the one on your back, than the one on your neck, which made you top fall off.

“Happy?” His eyes scanned every inch of you. His stood up, and got closer to you. He lifted your chin up.

“Very happy” he smirked. Putting your hands on his waist, you stood up.

“Now it’s my turn to be happy” he smiled. “Take off your shirt” licking his lips, he took his shirt off. “The shorts too”

“Hm hm, it’s not your turn anymore”

“Wh- well that’s not fair, you’re wearing more clothes than m-” he cut you off

“Take the bottom off”

“Only if you take the shorts off first”

“That’s not how it works” you looked at him with a surprised expression

“Oh this is how it is going to work though” you stared intensely at each other. He finally gave in, seeing you were not moving, and took his shorts off. He was left in his underpants, that were showing his bulge. Looking at him up and down, you put your hands on his chest, slowly going down, but Pedro stopped you.

“Cariño, es tu turno” (darling, it’s your turn) oh he went Spanish mode. He knew the effect it had on you. But you also know what it means for him. He is long gone. It made you smirk. Both of your hands on your waist, you slowly took off your the rest of your bathing suit off.

“Bueno, sabes lo que tienes que hacer” (okay, you know what you have to do) you added. He did not expect that one for sure. When he spoke Spanish to you, you could cum right here and then. But it was the same for him. Speaking his native language? Oh my- it was a turn on.

“Qué estás haciendo princesa” (what are you doing princess) he said in a low voice. You smiled.

“Sabes lo que estoy haciendo” (you know what I am doing) you said, your right hand travelling on his chest and stomach, and even playing with the hem of his underwear. And that was it. He couldn’t take it anymore. He put his hands on your waist and grabbed you. It made you squeal. He put you on his shoulders and headed inside the house.

“Oh you want to play? Okay let’s see” he said, slapping you ass at the occasion. Once in the bedroom, he put you on the bed. You were out of breath. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you at the edge of the bed. He kneeled in front of you, his hands going higher and higher. “We’ll see how long you can hold” he smirked.

He started kissing your thighs, slowly going up to your core. You straighten up a little so you could look at him. Your right hand went into his hair. He looked at you for a second, then he started to work on you.

“Already wet and I barely touched you.” He said, his hands now traveling on your body, from you breasts, to your waist, and licking your pussy at the same time. Oh he knew what he was doing. You threw your head back, closing your eyes, mouth open. His tongue was perfect.

“P-Pedro please” he stopped for a second, which made you whine a little.

“What was that sweetheart?” You looked at him. He was teasing you.

“Can we skip this and go to the part where you actually fuck me?” You tried teasing too. It could work and send him to the edge too, therefore he would actually fuck you, or, he would take his revenge and make him tease you even more and longer.

“Eres impaciente mi amor” (you are impatient my love) he smirked. He slightly got up to kiss you passionately, while his right hand went to your pussy, continuing what he had started. It made you moan in the kiss. “Yeah that’s it” he said, looking at you taking his fingers. “You’re getting close isn’t it” you kept moaning. “I need you to answer baby doll”

“Y-yes” Your arms started to shake. They couldn’t support you anymore, it was getting too much. Pedro put his left hand on you back, holding you more.

“Not just yet” he said as he started to plant kisses in your neck, making it extremely difficult to contain your orgasm.

“I-I can’t” he suddenly removed his fingers. It made you gasp due to sudden stop and lack of touch. You looked at him, confused and panting. He got up and started to lick his fingers.

“You taste so good” you smirked. He then left to the bathroom. You laid down on the bed waiting for him. You could still feel your orgasm being near, so you started to touch yourself. Biting your lips, you closed your eyes. It felt so good. Pedro saw what you were doing. As much as he liked it, right now, he didn’t want you to cum just yet. You suddenly felt a hand holding yours. “Darling, you know it drives me crazy when you do that”

“What, I can’t play too?” You sat up, and saw that he was holding a condom in his right hand. He smiled at what you said. He opened the condom, while you took his briefs off. After he put the condom on, you laid back on the bed as Pedro placed himself above you.

You placed both your hands on his cheeks, looking at him. You could see the lust in his eyes. Your thumb was caressing his lips. You felt the mood change. As it was playful before, you felt the sexual tension rise even more, but being more sensual then before. You kissed him languorously.

“You’re ready?” He asked you, staring into your eyes. You nodded. “I need words princesa”

“Yes I am ready”

“Stop me if it hurts, at any point” you smiled. He was just too sweet. Despite what you were doing, he would always be very careful with you. You love that about him. You love everything about him. You kissed him again. He slowly entered you, burning sensation spreading all over your body. After a few seconds of adjusting, for the both of you, Pedro started to go back and forth, slowly at first. His head in your neck, he started to moan as well.

“Oh yes- it just- you feel so good” you managed to say between moans. One hand on his back, another in his hair, every part you touched were sending him to the edge. At some point his movements started to get faster meaning he was close. His right hand was working on your clit at the same time, giving you a full experience, and getting you closer each second.

“Wait for me mama” he said, kissing your neck a little, feeling the vibration of his moans against your skin.

“P-Pedro, I-I’m”

“me too” you both climaxed, close to one an other. You were both breathing heavily. You lifted his head, smiling. You kissed him as long as you could. After that, he laid next to you.

“I wouldn’t mind a shower now” you said. It was a hot day, adding the heat from the session, refreshing was a good idea. He looked at you.

“Round 2?” You smiled

“Okay” you got up and went into the bathroom, followed very closely by Pedro. The shower might not be as refreshing as it could be.

#pedro pascal #fanfic #imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #oneshot #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal preferences #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #smut #gif

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moumouton4 · 6 months

Note

Hii!! I saw the first time/losing virginity with the founders and was wondering if you would like to do some of the other Naruto characters!! I had wanted to ask since i think request are open?? Anyways thank you and i love your writing so so much!! (This is a plea for anything Rock lee)

First Time - Virginity Loss || Rock Lee x reader

A/n : Hello dear, this is a very good idea to do this prompt with other characters of Naruto but genuinely this takes so much time to write as there is a lot of possibility for a character. Things can go in every ways

Warnings : no mention of gender for reader, first time, grinding, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 1964

Again a character that I bet is a virgin. I mean look at him, he is always so dedicated to his training, when could he even have found the time to ?

In addition, I don’t think he has ever watched porn nor delved into this subject to know the erogenous parts of a woman's body. Even making children would have stayed a mystery for him if it wasn’t on the school science curriculum

You weren’t really the one to actually go to him and ask him to jump your bones, because he himself wasn’t the one to do something like this - did he even know he could ask ? - so you thought it was just as fine if it were to happen naturally by itself

And seeing how everything went so slowly today was certainly not the day you were expecting such a thing to happen

Yes you guys had a good experience in kissing matters. It seemed that it was the only form of language he had ever known when he was with you. For a hello, a good morning, a goodnight, a bless you, a you’re the best… and so on so for

Making out wasn’t something that happened a lot but as surprising as it was he seemed to know what he was doing during those heated moments

You were chilling in the living room, a book in your hand and a cup of warm tea / hot cocoa that was your best friend with how cold the weather was. A little before you decided you had enough of reading you heard the front door opening, announcing the return of your amazing and flamboyant boyfriend. Little did you know that those were only the premise of something you were eagerly expecting

His arrival was very quiet compared to what it usually is. He didn’t zoom to kiss you hello, nor did he brag on and on about the training he did nor how Might Guy was amazing. You decided not to point it out and wait for him to come up to you

After a moment he entered the living room, a not flashy at all good afternoon escaped his lips as he plumped on the couch, right next to you. Not bothering staying upright and slowly sliding on his side. It was really a pitiful scene to witness

“Love ?” you tried softly, your hand coming to rest and then rubbing in his arm “Did everything work all right ?”

For only answer he turned his head to face you and you literally saw waterfalls coming through his eyes. You knew he was quite the sensitive and passionate one so you didn’t freak out but still you were worried

It didn’t take you long to make him talk about what had happened that day. And it was quite the story, Might Guy had earlier this morning dared Kakashi to run across a frozen pond. During the race Kakashi was a bit ahead of Guy and the latter threw a kunai in the ice to disturb his opponent’s stride. But the karma struck at him and what was solid under his feet quickly started to crack. Kakashi managed to make it to the land and Guy, well he took a cold bath. He caught a cold and didn’t come this afternoon to Rock Lee’s training. It wasn’t really a problem per se, as your boyfriend trained as - and maybe more - hard and diligently as if his senseï would have been there. But still he felt like he didn’t do enough

“Please let me do everything today” he pleaded “All the shores, everything. And I’ll do even better than I’ve ever done”

You knew you couldn't even start to argue back because he wouldn’t have relented

Inching towards you he stated “I’ll start with our reunion kiss. I’m going to give you the most passionate one anyone, even me has ever given you” and with that his lips crashed - softly at first - onto yours

But then it got out of hand, and you didn’t really catch that kissing even more passionately would ineluctably lead to this. As you made out, you both felt your bodies started to tingle in places you didn’t know could feel like this

Still focused on kissing you like never before, Rock Lee kinda didn’t react to you being - by him - pulled on his lap, on his now quite straining bulge. It’s only when he felt like the kiss would be even better if he pulled you closer by the hips, when he felt you core grind on his erection, that he realized that he was painfully hard

A groan escaped his mouth, passing directly to your, his hand gripping your hips tighter and for just a second he froze, as if wondering if he could continue to kiss you, as if wanting to let you tell him if what he was doing was acceptable and respectable

You showed no signs of reluctance, quite the opposite in fact, you went back to kissing him hungrily but this time you were the one initiating the movement. You move your hips back and forth, grinding efficiently on his length, eliciting even more groans and somehow whimpers from him

After a moment of tantalizing friction you pulled back and you almost gasped when you saw the look his eyes were shooting you : he looked so fucking turn on

His hands held you hips still for a movement - as if he knew that he wasn’t strong enough to resist the power you had over him - his voice was hoarse as he whispered, making it even more intimate “And what if with this too I could show you that I can give my everything to make it the best experience for you”

“Please Lee” you moaned and his gaze turned even hungrier - you really made him snap

He didn’t lose any more time as he brought you to the bedroom. He carefully set you on the bed before turning to the drawer from where he took a condom. Why did you guys have those ? Well Naruto told him it was one of the strongest weapon against the pregnancy threat ( lmao I want children so much so don’t take the joke seriously )

His dark hair was already sticking to his forehead as his hands fumbled with the package, he was feeling so hot right now. And he seriously thought he was going to explode when he turned back to you and saw you naked before him, his face was so red, it could compete with the Uchiha’s Sharingan

It pumped even more pressure in his veins as he was now fumbling with his green suit ( how the heck is that green thing called ? ) His already hot and sweaty body stuck to the slim fabric as he tried to get it off of his sculpted body

After a long struggle, his length sprang free, standing proud and tall as he finally wrapped the protection on his throbbing member. He was now crawling between your legs, his mouth came back to yours and this time you could clearly feel his length poking and nudging against your thigh

He asked 2874624625 times before he was sure you were consenting. Once this done he carefully lined the tip of his needy member up with your entrance. His eyes bore into yours as he slowly pushed forward, making his way inside your tight warmth “Oh… this is mmh wet”

Moans and grunts cascaded from his lips as he concentrated himself not to act on the urge of simply slamming his hips into yours. With a little, delightful extra time he was finally fully sheathed inside you. He held still, far from wanting to cause any pain inadvertently

“Lee you can move now” you said softly holding back on your own sounds. But to your surprise he stayed still, as if he didn’t hear you “Lee ?” you asked again, but it seemed that feeling your velvety walls pulsing around him was the most distracting thing ever

“Huh what ?” he snapped back “Yeah yeah sorry I’ll just… ah” his body arched as he gave a subtle experiential thrust

He keeps a slow rhythm to make sure you’re doing fine, but as soon as he felt you were getting used to his size, he sped his pace. The room filled with the soft noises of his balls slapping against you, a soft thud in the darkness of the room

His want of making it the best experience ever for you became an overwhelming desire, one that pushed him to go faster and faster. He didn’t know how long he could hold back, he doesn’t know either where he can hold you to keep you in place without hurting you as he pounds into you

He may not be in complete control, he knows, no, he can feel you’re getting close - in the case he knows what an orgasm is. If not he is just going to hold back the pressure he feels in his stomach as much as he can. When you’re going to come you’ll tighten to viciously around him that he wouldn’t have any other option than to cum himself and fill the condom

As well as for making out he is surprisingly a good shot for some reason - you’re already planning on asking him if he has any experience - and he has luck too because his thrusts are getting so rough as he overs above that it allows him to graze your clit with his pubic bone

You’re gripping his arms so tightly you know there will be rest marks tomorrow. Suddenly as you feel your climax washing over you, you wrap your arms around his neck and swiftly pull him down for another heated kiss, making him gasp

As expected not long after he falls over the edge, his body spasms above yours, before his arms give out ( I tend to think that even for those ninjas sex is still somehow very draining ) he also moaned very loudly, making you very happy and grateful to not live in a terraced house

His arms snacked around you after he had pulled out and took off the condom, then he snuggled up against your warm body. His head nestled against your neck, his lips peppered your skin with soft kisses

At this point he doesn’t know anymore what he is doing, he is on autopilot as he nuzzles against you. He shivers and you pull the blanket over his naked body

And when you ask him if he is doing okay he goes “Huh ?”

“I said, are you happy with your performance ?” you teased

“I-I love you Y/n” he whispered, his fingers drawing patterns on your bare skin

For now you guys stay in each other’s arms and enjoy the afternoon, maybe take a nap or something, but either way you’re staying together

You chuckled at the effects the afterglow was having on him "I love you too"

That’s fine you’re going to wait to know if he was happy with your first time having sex. But he would only be satisfied if you were

From this day, love making became something casual that your boyfriend would always ask you about in the intimacy of your home, just to make sure you’re not missing anything - well with time he learns to be a little bit more implicit about it

He also somehow gets more protective of you, as if he kinda understood in a more complex way what it meant to date someone

There was only one thing he'd finally got wrong that day, and hopefully, this first time wasn’t going to the best experience for you, because with him many others would come, and each one better than the last

#naruto #naruto imagie #naruto smut #naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden imagine #naruto shippuden smut #rock lee #rock lee imagine #rock lee x reader #rock lee smut #smut #miri-writes

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planningisnotmystrength · 2 years

Text

having played and completed Disco Elysium multiple times now I’m getting the chance to notice things that I really didn’t zero in on when I played it the first time.

like how bad Kim’s eyesight really is. when you find Cuno’s shack Kim is genuinely surprised that it was there, he didn’t even notice the thing that clued your Perception in on their maybe being a door. to him you really just walked up to a wall and a piece fell down and there was now a door there. and that puts his utter failure to shoot the corpse down into a completely different light (and why Empathy tells you that you shouldn’t show him compassion).

or just how funny Kim is. how willing he is to take part in a joke or a prank as long as it’s in the pursuit of solving the case or “doing your job” as policemen. how he’s willing to play a character for the Racist Lorry Driver. or mess with the wannabe Skulls and take their jackets. or even how he starts introducing you as Detective Costeau if you continue to stick with the name (though he is clearly trying very hard to keep his voice steady and face still). he genuinely actually has a good sense of humor (but is also very serious, which makes it even funnier).

or the specter of fear and anger that hovers around Garte. he doesn’t know if the Union will squeeze him out like they did all the other business owners, or if they’re going to start a war (I mean, there’s a literal dead mercenary hanging in his back yard). he’s got to be wondering how he can stay open if only locals can come in or out (due to the blockade) and he’s clinging to the idea that he has other places that he manages. we get glimpses of his real thoughts in the moments before he catches his tongue and realizes “no, I really shouldn’t talk to cops/the union/others like that.”

or the practiced apathy that Klaasje uses to hide her fear, how she pretends so hard not to care so you don’t suspect her. how effectively she can lay another tempting red herring at your feet. how Evrart Claire really is clever enough to play not only the characters but the player (if you haven’t stacked your skills correctly or if you just say the wrong things in the wrong ways). that you can even manage to accidentally help him is a testament to the writing they’ve done.

not to mention the pervasive and ever-present fury of Revachol as a reaction to their subjugation by the Moralintern. the sadness in Cuno’s eyes when you see past the speed in his bloodstream. the ways in which people struggle to survive in what is effectively a battlefield. the feeling of life’s daily struggle slowly drowning you under the weight of “you’ll never do better. you’ll never be better.” and the breath of fresh air in simple kindnesses from others (lamby, Kim’s compassionate moments, the old washerwoman, the salami man visiting his friend, the dance club, and so many more).

I could write a book about how much this game means to me. how much these people mean to me. how much the potential for change, even in a doomed world, means that we can all at least create a little joy before we go. and I don’t think I’d even scratch the surface of all that it means to me. this game is...a metamorphosis? it changes the structure of what I expect from video games in the future. it changes what I expect from storytelling. I cannot express how important this game is as a vehicle for storytelling, it changes what’s possible.

#disco elysium spoilers #disco elysium #lots of spoilers #like a whole bunch #I really do love this game as a story #I can't stop thinking about it #it's infected my brain #storytelling

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vster0769 · 7 months

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friends or something.

a little over 2k

Hey guys! So first time writing a hazel fic, thing, whatever you wanna call it.

Got the idea from a post I’ll attach somewhere.

About: you and hazel have been friends as long as you can remember, but neither of you have said anything about your feelings for each other. Unknowingly, you admit them and she overhears.

Band member!y/n loser best friend!hazel

unrequited love trope !no use of y/n!

Warnings: nothing really, just making out, wouldn’t call it angst, more fluff I guess, idk. Didn’t really know where to go with this one.

Tags: @berrydollie @deadgirlwalkingtaylorsversion @evdinspiration

………………………………………………………….

The halls are crowded as you push your way through to your next class. You sigh as Jeff and his posse of men-children shove their way through ahead of you. Shoving people to the side as they went.

You roll your eyes, adjusting the strap of your bag as you go.

You slide into your seat, resting your head on your palm and closing your eyes.

“Hey!”

You open your eyes and see hazel, eyes shining as she looks at you. Your stomach flutters as she smiles. Looking like literal fucking sunshine.

“Hey,” you smile back, nudging her shoulder with yours.

The two of you had been best friends for as long as you could remember. It seemed like you went everywhere with each other, your parents had been friends so you had practically grown up together. It seems like you had spent as many nights at her house as you had spent at your own.

“What’s up?” She asks, pulling her book from her bag, “you don’t look so great.” Her face turns from questioning to embarrassed. “Not that you don’t look great! I mean, like you always look great, I mean, uh-“

She looks down. Cheeks turning pink.

“Sorry, you just look a little out of it.”

You shake your head.

“I’m ok, just, well stressed to be honest.”

You pull out your respective books and thumb through the pages aimlessly. “We’ve got a gig tonight and it’s just, well the biggest one we’ve had yet.”

She nods, “well I’m sure you’re gonna be great.”

“Actually,” you say, meeting her gaze before glancing away. “I was, well I was wondering if you wanted to ask if you wanted to come.” Your face turns red, this is the closest you had ever gotten to asking her out. Sure, you’d had a crush on her since the seventh grade, and sure you’d told her that you liked girls on your sixteenth birthday after having too much to drink, but that’s as far as it went.

Her eyes widen and she opens her mouth, “oh-“ she says, looking away, “I would but, well I got something going on tonight.”

Your heart sinks. Well there goes that brilliant plan.

“No, no you’re all good.” You say, trying to give her a reassuring smile.

“I’m sorry, I totally would have.” She sounds genuinely sorry, your heart tightens.

You’re about to say something, but then the bell rings. You remark on how oddly short the classes are here at Emerson, before slipping in your headphones, giving hazel a small wave, and walking to your next class.

………………………………………………………….

This all started out small just you and a few friends, messing around in your moms garage.

It’s far from that now.

You look into the crowd of excited, screaming people, your heart racing as your fingers slam into the guitar strings.

The noise is deafening, like a thunderstorm encased in a bottle.

The third song ends and you break to guzzle a bottle of water. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, before slinging your guitar behind you.

“Now we’re gonna be taking a few questions!” Shouts your friend, the lead singer. You hear a shout, a little louder than the rest, “HEY! WHO WAS THAT LAST ONE ABOUT?”

Your stomach does a flip and you clear your throat.

“Well actually, this song was by our guitarist, so we’re just gonna let her answer this one.” She says sending you a questioning look. She knew you wrote it, and knew it was about someone you cared about, but the matter of who, was still a mystery.

You clear your throat, stepping up to the mic.

“Well, uh I wrote this one a little while ago, and uh well it’s about someone who I really liked, honestly still do, um yeah.” You say awkwardly.

“WHO IS HE?”

Your eyes widen, head snapping around to find the voice in the crowd.

“Well who said anything about a he?”

You say with a smirk. The crowd screams as you step back, shouting, “ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!”

With that, your next song is on.

The rest of the night is a blur of bright lights, screaming people, and no breaks. You can’t seem to shake the question from your mind though, you knew exactly who it was about, you could never get her out of your head. Her ocean blue puppy dog eyes, her short brunette hair that looked too soft to touch, the way you could talk to her for hours and still not get bored.

………..………………………………………………

Hazel had never been one to procrastinate. She always had a plan. Always got her work done, always scheduled everything.

That’s why she was so frustrated as she stared at the blank word doc she’s had open for the last half hour.

She let out an angry sigh as she slammed the computer shut. Rubbing her palms in her eyes.

“What the fuck.” She breathes. She knew exactly why she couldn’t work. There was one person on her mind, it didn’t help that that person had asked her to go to her show and hazel had turned her down.

Feelings of guilt at not going, anger that she couldn’t get anything done, and, yes. She could admit it. Longing. Despite how hard she tried to deny it, she wanted to be there. Wanted to see her. More than anything she wanted to be by her.

For all of hazels calculated ways, she couldn’t seem to stay away from her. She made hazel feel things, really feel things. Uncertainty, sure there was that, but there was also a kind of comforting want. She made hazels stomach do backflips. Made her want things, for the first time in her life she really wanted someone.

Sure, she’d had crushes before, but those always went away. This was different.

She sat there for another minute before deciding.

fuck it.

”I’m heading out mom!” She yelled, running down the stairs. She heard a muffled response, but decided it wasn’t that important as she swung out the door.

………………………………………………………….

The room was crowded. Very crowded. And loud, really fucking loud.

Hazel made her way through the crowd, mumbling awkward apologies as she brushed by.

Then she saw you, fingers deftly moving across the strings, a look of pure joy on your face. Fuck she looks good. Hazel thought. Her heart thrumming against her chest.

A smile graced her lips as she watched you, and for a second she let herself fall into the fantasy, maybe just maybe, she could be something to you. Something more than just friends.

As the song finished, she cheered, loud as she could, eyes shining and watching you like you were a goddess.

Someone yelled as the crowd died down.

“HEY, WHOS THE LAST ONE ABOUT?”

She didn’t think much of it till the lead singer spoke up,

“Actually our guitarist wrote this one. So we’re just gonna let her answer this one.”

Her head snaps up, sure the song had been upbeat, but the words, well the words were sad. Longing. Wishing for something, someone unattainable.

“Well, uh I wrote this one a little while ago, and uh well it’s about someone who I really liked, honestly still do, um yeah

“WHO IS HE??”

“Who said anything about a guy?”

And with that they were at it again.

And all hazel could do was stand there. Unsure. Hopeful. Dazed if she was honest.

Part of her was sure there was no way, but another part simply wouldn’t let go of the idea.

What if…

………………………………………………………….

You let out a sigh of relief as you walked to the edge of the bar. Leaning your head on your forearms and taking a breath.

A mix of exhaustion and adrenaline mixed in your gut. Making you almost dizzy.

You feel a hand rest on your back, and look up,

“Hey,”

It’s your friend.

“Hey.”

It’s quiet for a moment.

“So uh, I wanted to talk to you about that song. I never pushed because, well it didn’t seem like something to push. But, y’know I’m curious. Who is that about?”

You look down.

fuck.

You meet her gaze before shaking your head.

“It’s, well.”

Swallow.

“Um, you know hazel-“

“OH MY GOD I KNEW IT!”

You motion for her to quiet down, but she doesn’t.

“I KNEW YOU HAD THE HOTS FOR HER! Oh my god, I fucking guessed. Hazel of all people.”

You shake your head.

Turning around, your eyes meet a pair of blue eyes so deep you could drown in them.

Hazel stood there, mouth slightly open, eyes wide, completely still.

Your stomach dropped about twelve stories.

The both of you stare at each other for a solid five seconds before you push past her. Heading for the door.

what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck-

You slam through the doors to the alley. Pressing your back into the cold brick.

Everything is fucked.

All you can think of is the look on her face.

she was mortified.

You bury your face in your hands.

Body shaking.

why wouldn’t she be? Fuck you wrote a fucking song about her and then confessed your love basically to her face.

“Hey!”

Hazel.

“Please,” you cut her off.

“Just let me explain, I well I didn’t know what I was saying, and I mean it’s ok if you don’t want to be friends anymore or whatever, I- I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

You stand there.

Quiet.

You look up.

All she does is stare at you.

After a minute, she speaks.

“You’re right.”

Your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure she can hear it.

“I don’t want to be friends anymore.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest, a physical pain. Worse than anything before.

“I want to be so much more than that.”

Her voice breaks on the last words, and before you can think her hands are on your face and her lips against her.

You stand there a second, unsure if this is just a dream, a hallucination, some sort of sick joke, before kissing her back.

If this is a dream it’s the best fucking dream you’ve ever had.

Your lips slit together perfectly. She’s shy at first, moving slow and gentle. Your hands go to her waist, pulling her closer, simultaneously, you both breathe a sigh of relief. A weight falls off your chest, leaving you feeling lighter than ever.

“Fuck you don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,”

She breaths against your lips.

You don’t respond, just pull her face to yours. Opening your lips to deepen the kiss.

She lets out a shaky breath and slides her tongue along your bottom lip, begging for access, which you grant immediately. Her hands travel to your waist, guiding you to the wall and slamming you against it.

“Oh, shit sorry-“

“Don’t be.”

You smile and bring your hand to her hair, running your fingers through it. Just as soft as you’d imagined.

“fuck”

She breathes, pressing kisses along your cheek and below your jaw.

“Is this ok?”

She asks, lips hovering over the delicate skin of your neck.

You nod, “yeah, yes.”

“Ok.”

She paused a second before attaching her lips to your skin. Kissing and sucking. Leaving marks. She slides the strap of your tank off your shoulder, leaving gentle kisses before sucking, leaving yet another hicky.

“Fuck, hazel,”

You breathe,

“Yeah baby?”

You shake your head.

“Nothing, I just, I like to say your name.”

She smiles, cheeks reddening.

“Well I like hearing you say it.”

She kisses you again, soft and sweet, before pulling your strap back up.

“We should probably get back.”

You nod.

“We should talk about this,”

“We will. Tomorrow.”

“Ok.”

She grabs your hand, entwining her fingers in yours, and gazing at you like you were the most perfect thing in the world.

You smile back, fuck she was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

With that you pushed through the doors, back into the noise, lights, and crowds of people.

But this time you had hazel.

And to be honest, that was the best thing that could happen.

#bottoms movie 2023 #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x you #bottoms spoilers #ruby cruz #bottoms 2023 #hazel bottoms #vster

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