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#sorry if you wanted anything else i don't control it
gojos-fr-bae · 3 days
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Liar pt.8
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
Pairing: Gojo x fem!eader
Warnings: ANGSTTTT, but fluff at the end, cussing, drinking, grinding, NOT PROOFRED, i don't think there's anything else but as always lmk if there is.
Note- the italics is a flashback, actually, Satoru's entire section is a flashback from pt 7.
Word Count: 1.3K
A/N: VFYVKD. Guys, I think this might be the last part to this series😭😭😔😔 This has been a journey, thank you so much for everyone who has read this far, I truly and deeply appreciate every single one of you❤️❤️ I don't want it to endddd, so lmk if you would like me to keep writing for this au bc I would LOOVE to.
(Requests open)
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Satoru
He was beginning to feel like he was slipping. He hadn’t had a glass since the shot he took before Kaito came to spend the night with him. Although it was now night and hours since his son had left, he naively thought that he had overcome his addiction since he hadn’t felt the urge to drink the whole time he was with Kaito. 
Oh how wrong he was. He needed to get a drink and fast. He jumped into his car and began speeding to the nearest liquor store, only to find it with an eight-person line. He didn’t have the patience to wait that long and made his way to a bar. Any bar, honestly speaking, he had no idea where he even was. 
He quickly went over, ordered, and chugged five tequila shots consecutively. Once the alcohol finally kicked in, he finally began to feel like himself again. 
‘He was is disgusting. What kind of pathetic, sorry excuse of a man can’t survive without drowning himself in alcohol? How was he supposed to win you back and be a father for Kaito in such a state?’ 
These were the thoughts that ran rampant through his mind as he ordered a glass of whiskey, this time much more relaxed, seated on his stool, staring lifelessly into the endless abyss. 
He was slowly sipping his drink when he felt a pair of hands clutch his shoulders before slowly gliding down his arms. Because of his inebriated state, he wasn’t able to sense them approaching, however, he just chose to ignore, only seeming to amuse the stranger. He slowly turned his seat to face them. 
He was completely unamused when his eyes landed on a young woman clearly intent on getting into his pants. She clearly thought that she was the most beautiful girl in the room, therefore disarming a chance at him, but all he could think of was how ugly she looked in comparison to you. He just rolled his eyes, trying to go back to wallowing in self-pity. The lady just wouldn’t let up, turning around before she began grinding against him to the beat of the music. Foul, Satoru thought, feeling his patience run out.
“Get away from me you fucking slut,” he hissed, venom lacing his words as he placed his hand on her waist, trying to push her away when next thing he knows, a palm is making contact with his cheek, landing a harsh slap across his face. It was only then that he finally sensed your cursed energy. He quickly turned to face you, heart plummeting when he saw tears streaming through your face. 
Shit, he can only imagine what this looked like to you. He tried to reach out to you but you just screamed at him and ran away from him. 
He began to panic. 
His heart was racing. 
The world around him was spinning and despite how hard he tried, he couldn’t move a single inch. His vision was getting spotty and all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. He felt like he was going to vomit. 
WHY! WHY HIM, WHY NOW! WHY COULDN’T HEJUST CONTROL HIMSELF AND STOP FUCKING DRINKING! He was absolutely torturing himself in his head as he spiraled. 
He finally mustered the strength to run after you, leaving the unnamed girl where she stood, utterly confused.
He ran as fast as his legs could take him but you were nowhere to be found. 
He leapt into his car and drove as fast as the vehicle could go. He was at Jujutsu tech in about five minutes but that was the longest five minutes of his entire life. He had to get to you. He needed to explain, he needed to make sure you know that it wasn't what it looked like.
Y/N
After crying your heart out on the sidewalk, you eventually made your way back to Jujutsu Tech. You texted Shoko and asked her if she could take care of Kaito for the rest of the night. You felt so guilty for staying away from him for two nights in a row but you just couldn’t bear to have him see you like this.
Just as you were about to close the dorm door behind you, you heard running and frantic breathing approach. You didn’t even bother trying to fight Gojo as he forced his way through the door you were trying to shut.
“Y/N p-please” he took a pause, slightly hunched over as he attempted to catch his breath, “I pro- I promise it wasn’t what you looked like!” he tried to explain, clearly panicked. 
“What the fuck do you mean it’s not what it looked like, Gojo.” you questioned, putting emphasis on how you said his name. It felt like you were continuously stabbing him with a jagged dagger and he felt his knees getting weak but he couldn’t let you go, not now.
“My love please! I swear on my life it wasn’t! I wasn’t trying to do anything with her fuck! I don’t even know her name!” “Then what was it Gojo! She was grinding on you and you were FUCKING ENJOYING IT, DON’T YOU DARE LIE TO ME! I KNOW WHAT I SAW!!” You yelled your throat raw.
“I was trying to get her away from me! Please, believe me, I promise,” He dropped on his knees, reaching for your hands with his own shaking ones. Tears began to trickle down his face as his breathing grew heavy.
A small part of you wanted to believe it, but you were struggling. Deep down, you were telling yourself that he was telling the truth. But that was a part of you you hadn’t seen since Gojo was sealed. You survived this long without listening to it, so why start now?
“Gojo…let’s get a divorce-”
“NO! NO! BABY PLEASE! Don’t do this to me! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN LIFE, MORE THAN BREATHING, MORE THAN MYSELF MORE THAN ANYTHING! DON’T LEAVE ME-”
“Gojo you were gone for years! I LIVED WITHOUT A HUSBAND FOR YEARS! And from what it looks like, you CLEARLY didn’t feel my or Kaito’s absence! And from what it looks like, you’ve moved on-”
“BUT I HAVEN’T! I HAVEN’T! I GO TO BED HOLDING A PICTURE OF YOU CLOSE TO MY CHEST EVERY SINGLE NIGHT! I HAVE NEVER TAKEN OFF YOUR RING SINCE THE DAY I GOT BACK AND FOUND YOU GONE!” He cried, showing you your ring, which laid on his fingers. You would be lying if you said you didn’t notice it, but you just assumed that was due to how expensive it was. It would’ve been a waste to let it collect dust in a drawer.
“Y/N, you and out baby boy are the only fucking reason I wake up every day. You two are the light of my life and when I lost you. I was so distraught I even started drinking and you know better than anyone how much I hate that shit but it’s the only thing that takes my mind off of everything!”
You were now crying too, touched by what he was saying. You could see in his eyes that he meant every word and it shook you to your core. 
You stayed anchored where you stood, sobbing now as Satoru got up off his knees and took you into his arms. Hugging you as tightly as he could without breaking your ribs.
You couldn't even move. You just stood there and cried with him, feeling the weight of everything that had transpired over the past couple of years wash away.
All that grief, suffering, and pain over the past few years was washing away in your tears.
You love him.
You had pushed down your feelings for him so deep that for a moment, you forgot they were even there. But you love him, and he you, and you knew that there was know way either of you could live without each other any longer.
You love him, and he loves you, and nothing was going to change that. 
Not now, not ever.
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
The End...?
@porridgesblog , @giannitaa , @c0pkiller , @havens-not-here, @starlightanyaaa
© gojos-fr-bae
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AITA for not saying anything when someone apologized to me?
Sorry this is going to be kinda vague because I know everyone involved is on tumblr. I'm 21, I have no idea the age of the other person involved
I am in a discord group that's kinda focused on an artist. The artist was taking suggestions for a warm up and posted the drawings to discord in a side channel. One of the other people in the server (I'll call K) responded to the art essential being like "wow ur art is so good... Could never me be lol" and the artist responded "you can do it!!". K responded to that with something along the lines of "I can't it'll take me so long to learn to draw [specific thing]". Someone else in the channel was also pretty encouraging to K, and K responded the same way to them "I've tried and I just can't draw [thing]
I don't really like it when people put themselves down to prop up someone else's work! It's awkward and demeaning for everyone involved tbh! So I responded to K with a message along the lines of "it sucks to hear but it really just takes practice! I found some books on Amazon for drawing [thing] and they really helped me get good fast by copying them"
K responded in all caps "I KNOW IT TAKES PRACTICE. IT TAKES A LOT OF PRACTICE"
Clearly I upset them with that! I get it, hearing the same thing over and over again kinda sucks. I thought I was being helpful and I was wrong! I apologized to K, and they responded that they weren't upset they just "weren't in control of their emotions" and when I didn't respond to that they apologized for 'yelling' I didn't respond to that either.
I didn't really know what to say. I didn't like being yelled at, it hurt my feelings, and it didn't feel like an appropriate response to what I sent them. so I didn't want to say "it's okay" because like. It wasn't. And I didn't want to say "I don't forgive you" because it's not that deep and doesn't really matter that much.
The conversation moved on to other stuff, but it's been lingering in my head for a while. Was I the ass here for not responding?
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wehangout · 1 day
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kiss prompt: Gallavich and 36 :)
Send me a number and I’ll write a gallavich kiss 👄
36. - - to give up control (you know what episode could have had some really beautiful ian and mickey moments and didn't because fuck the writers? this one)
It plays on your mind while Lip and Debbie bitch about selling the house, while Debbie makes shitty assumptions about gay guys, while you stand with a cup of coffee in each hand because Mickey's upstairs crying over his shitty, dead dad.
And it's really fucking hard. It's hard to sympathise and it's hard to actually give a fuck, because it's Terry. It's fucking Terry, and you don't know why Mickey's crying or why he gives a shit, and you genuinely believe him when he says he doesn't know either.
So you pour him a cup of coffee and head back upstairs.
He's dressed, shoving things into his pockets before sitting down and grabbing his boots.
"Got you a coffee."
He doesn't look up. "Thanks."
You place it on the nightstand and watch him do up his boots, hands and fingers moving quickly. "Goin' somewhere?"
"Next door."
You know the face you make is mixture of confused, disgusted, and outright exasperated. "Why?"
"Someone's gotta sort out that shit," he says, not looking at you. "No one else is gonna do it."
"Doesn't mean you have to."
"Kinda does." He sits up straight and rubs his hands over his thighs. "No one else gives a shit. Not sure I do, either, but ..."
"But?"
"Dunno." He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and then says it again. "Don't fuckin' know."
He stands and moves to go, and you stupidly let him get all the way to the door before stopping him.
"Wait a minute. I'll come."
"Ain't got time for your bullshit right now, Gallagher."
And it's his tone and his words and the way he won't meet your gaze that makes you realise ... well, everything.
"I'm sorry," you say. He shrugs, and you push on. "No, I am. If there's one thing the mandated therapy in prison taught me it's that my feelings are valid, and so are yours."
He snorts. "Yeah, okay, Dr. Phil."
You place your own coffee cup down and walk towards him. "I don't get it, okay? Terry was a piece of shit who fucked us up too many times to count, who hurt you in ... in a lot of ways."
His jaw clenches at your words that say everything all while saying nothing, but you soldier on. You reach out and tangle your fingers with his.
"I don't understand why you're upset about him being dead, but I do know what it's like to be the only one who gives a shit." You tug this hand until he looks up, meets your gaze. "Someone died and you have a lot of fucked-up feelings that no one else feels and ... I get that. Okay? I understand that."
He tongues at his cheek, and then, "Monica?"
You shrug and nod, but don't say anything else about it. This isn't about Monica and it's not about you. It's about Mickey, and you don't need to understand what he's feeling or why he's feeling it. You just need to be there for him.
He sniffs. "I gotta head next door."
"Let me come."
"You don't have to, man -"
"I want to." You squeeze his hand. "I want to help you. Let me help you."
"Ian -"
"You don't have to do this alone, Mick."
He looks at you and nods, just once, real quick. "Okay."
"Okay."
He searches your eyes for a moment, then leans up and gives you a quick kiss. "Thanks."
You smile. Kiss his forehead. Let him lead the way.
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originalartblog · 8 months
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Tiny skk adventures!
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(continued ↓ )
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when you're a big guy, chances of getting trapped in a glass tube are a lot lower than when you're just a tiny lad.
Thankfully they're both very forgiving.
(don't worry, Chuuya tended to those cuts)
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arklay · 6 months
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RESIDENT EVIL → THE WESKER FAMILY
To the public, little is known of the families behind some of the world’s most renowned bioterrorists, but the question remains: did they play a role in causing their children to walk down the path that they did? Or are these individuals simply ambitious criminals with delusions of grandeur?
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For Diana Wesker (née Afanasyeva), her introduction into the bioweapons black market trade was upon discovering her employers were using her research into limb regeneration with salamanders to further their experiments in creating enhanced soldiers, instead of developing human therapies with which she was recruited for. Although the prospect of using biological weapons in the military did not appeal to her, the concept remained fascinating for her own selfish endeavours. Born on the 27th of October, 1963 in Sydney, Australia to Russian immigrant parents, Diana had harsh expectations placed upon her at a young age, ones that no matter how hard she tried she could never live up to. Her mother, Tatyana, was an unfeeling woman, absent for long stretches of time with little regard to how it affected her daughters, much more concerned with her craft as an accomplished opera singer. Viktor was no better. A strict man whose role as father and ballet master blurred, he pushed his girls to one day follow in his footsteps. Whilst Sofia enjoyed ballet, and went on to become a professional ballet dancer, Diana’s heart was set on going into the field of biology. She wished to make a name for herself, separate from her family – to which she succeeded.
Diana was married to former U.S. Marine, Dave Monroe, for only a year until he was declared dead in 1992 after succumbing to injuries sustained in a horrific car accident. Foul play was ruled out while Diana played the role of the grief-stricken widow, but in reality, she had snapped after years of mistreatment at her husband’s hands, and opted for something she could pass off as an accident to be free of him. For years she believed he was dead – and he was, legally – but that proved to not be the case when he found his way back into her life again in 1999. Unbeknownst to her, she had been lied to by the police and coroner, who were paid off by her employers when they took Dave’s body for themselves and used him as one of their first test subjects in developing supersoldiers. Before he could ever hurt her again, Diana’s second husband, Albert Wesker, tracked the man down, captured him and tortured him, before allowing Diana to get her violent and bloody revenge.
The origins of Albert Wesker’s involvement in bioterrorism, alongside his twin sister, Alex, are much different than that of Diana’s. The two hail from London, Canada, but unfortunately, they hold no memories of their lives there, nor what happened to their biological parents when they were eight years old. Agents of Oswell E. Spencer, an aristocratic billionaire and eugenicist, took the twins from their home and executed their parents as per Spencer’s orders. Albert and Alex were then placed in a home funded by the Spencer Foundation where they were given new names and a privileged upbringing. They had access to the best education possible, free to pursue whichever field they decided, but it was by no accident they both went into virology and bioengineering; at home, their adoptive parents – agents whom they believed to be their real parents – instilled them with the beliefs of Oswell E. Spencer, harbouring disdain for war and pestilence, and believing humans to be an evolutionary dead-end in need of a rebirth. They were only two of the hundreds of children “adopted” as part of what is known as Project W, a plan intended to develop an advanced race of human beings. The most promising candidates were headhunted by Umbrella Pharmaceuticals, the twins amongst them, where they went on to create bioweapons for the company founded by none other than the man who had handpicked them for his plan. The final stage of this was to infect the thirteen Spencer saw fit, however, only two survived; Albert received the intended effects, now possessing superhuman abilities, however, Alex was only offered more time to live due to her terminal degenerative illness.
In the summer of 1995, Diana was working undercover within Umbrella to gather development data on their projects for her company. Here, she had a chance encounter with Albert, an intelligence officer at the time, which permanently altered the course of her life. The two were never seen far from one another’s side, marrying in 1998, and they went on to become notorious in the bioweapons industry. The development of the Uroboros virus was where things took a turn for the worst. Although Diana’s infection was successful and she bore abilities that rivalled her husband’s, the plan itself did not succeed as they had hoped, and almost cost Albert his life at the hands of his former subordinates.
Now, they work within the shadows, with Diana declared missing and Albert believed to be dead. Their legacy, however, lives on with the mark they left on the world. As visionaries in their field, they influenced bioterror attacks carried out by countless individuals and organisations. In turn, they also inspired others to fight against such atrocities. One such person happens to be Albert’s son from a former relationship, Jake Müller, whose existence he was unaware of.
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#mine.#oc: diana#pair: ewskers#click for better quality cause it's large & tumblr ate it ♡#hii so happy birthday diana !! queen is 60 today :]#um. there's no template cause i made this from scratch...i couldn't find any i was vibing with so i was like you know what lmaoo#i'm sorry for the essay...it was meant to be just a short rundown of the family but well...that happened. typical leah fashion...#oh and guys. did you know that there's a limit to the amount you can put in one blockquote? that's why the rest is just left like that caus#i didn't like how it looked with a blockquote each paragraph...cause the spaces between were unever. you understand 😔#with the tree i was also going to include weskids adoptive parents but i couldn't figure out how to arrange it all & make it look nice !!#cause i also wanted to have spencer in there as well cause he's a big reason why the weskids are the way they are...was maybe gonna include#sherry as well. like connected to jake (hehe) and then do her parents too but that would've made things so wide & it's already big enough#yes. i hc that albert & alex are biological twins. just for clarification there :] i don't think i added anything else that isn't canon or#implied with canon. cause the weskids were put in homes (or at least whatever ''controlled environments'' means) where they were monitored#by umbrella but were unaware of it. so yeah. i don't think i really changed much there !!#honestly i could've kept rambling cause there's alex's whole situation. there's my lore with jake's mum. there's way more with the ewskers#but it's already so long & i can't be concise so there's that lmaoo oh also diana's grandma. so much stuff#also meant to say the weskids birthday in that ramble. it's january 15 1960 :] they are capricorn sun leo moons but alex was born earlier s#their rising signs are albert is a scorpio rising & alex is a libra rising !!#had to redo the image cause typo on diana's birth year for some reason lmao so if that messed up the formatting i will sob
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cruelsister-moved2 · 1 year
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I think people have confused the fact that it's definitely possible to go "look this magical guy told me these are the rules so now you all have to obey" with believing that religion is intrinsically just that. and it's like they just discount the possibility that anyone has ever earnestly believed in a higher authority or genuinely had a mystical experience or whatever. the thing is if you actually observe how religious people behave, especially if you look outside of like evangelical megachurch pastors who are clearly just grifting, it immediately becomes pretty hard to ignore that.
for every example of religion maintaining inequality u have muslim charities successfully preventing FGM by informing muslim communities who perpetrate it that it's haram, sikhs opposing casteism, early christians fighting gender inequality etc etc etc + on an individual level literally countless people who have fought against poverty and oppression on the basis of religious belief. like... IS it really something specific about religion or is it the fact that hegemony will naturally pick up and spread whatever supports it and suppress whatever doesn't?because the same can also be said of like... music... so are u going to say music is just a tool of the elite or whatever? bc it definitely can be. but it's equally a tool for resisting oppression and also just a significant part of the human experience.
aren't we meant to be postmodernists now like i think maybe things sometimes do just happen sometimes. what Society does with it after the fact is another question, but if you look at the history of religion I'm surprised if you don't come away with some awareness that genuine belief in some sort of authority or mechanism which is outside of human control can be something very transformative. like the fundamental innovation of the torah was to say that every human life is equal to every other human life in opposition to the code of hammurabi which said that some people's life = other people's pocket change. only a power which comes from somewhere outside human society would be able to ensure that law was applied fairly and equally to all rather than manipulated on the whim of the human with the most power to enforce it. if the "abrahamic" religions can be said to have anything in common at all, it's probably a call to humbleness and the value of every human being. much to think about!!!!
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heartshattering · 3 months
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maybe i need to go away again
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britneyshakespeare · 5 months
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re: my last post rambling about my siblings: i also realize of course that not everyone who has siblings has as good a relationship to them as i do, and that can be for any number of reasons, can have any number of resolutions, including just begrudgingly accepting that your sibling(s) are never gonna be the closest people in your life. i talked about how the bond i have with mine is akin to a commitment, because all of us prioritize each other, but i don't mean to make it sound idyllic or like it should be the universal standard. i am lucky but i am not naive. not everyone gets the siblings they would most wish to have, or some people just aren't that close to them and i don't particularly have a blanket judgment to make of that in all cases. however...
that guy i made a bunch of personal posts over the summer about because he was an emotionally abusive friend that i had to cut off, who asserted way too much control over my life, who was guilt-tripping and manipulative and sought to silence me etc etc etc he really was just never very accepting of me for who i was, never expressed interest in anything about me that didn't have to do with him, etc etc etc just that JERK guy who i still have nightmares about a few times a month. it took me a long time to accept that he wasn't just "depressed" and "anxious" but that he was actively using people; he wasn't accepting of harmony but always wanted control over others and their narratives, etc etc etc. there were certain sides of him i didn't see much because i got to know him in a rather isolated way. we had mutual contacts but i never worked with him or had a class with him or really even met him a few times before he started spilling his heart and soul to me privately and said i'm his best friend and i'm the only one who understands and supports him and basically pressured me to make him my project 24/7 and was incredibly disrespectful towards me whenever i asserted my own independence from him or just. wanted to see someone other than him or even just wanted to be by MYSELF. jesus. what a nightmare that guy was. IS, because i know he can't have changed and he probably never will.
THAT guy has a sibling. he has a little brother four years younger than him, and that guy was about two years younger than me. so his brother turned 18 this year. he graduated from high school. his brother is YOUNG, all things considered. and as much as he would constantly pour his heart out and gripe about every person he ever came into contact with (and as much as i now distrust a lot of the information he told me because i know he'll only ever say flattering things about himself and never speak forgivingly or with any nuance towards someone he labels now as "bad", including me)... the only time that i didn't really know how to listen with as open a heart was when he would start talking about how awful his little brother is. i'd be like, ok, so you had terrible friends in high school. all the people in your classes are shitty to you. this person has done you wrong and this person is awful and your parents and your family suck and this and that and this. no one has ever been good to you in your entire life except me? ok.
the ONLY time i was like "i don't know if i can take this at face value, i think you're being too harsh..." is when he would talk about his little brother. because i was like, well, from everything you're telling me, his problems sound like something he can very well grow out of. he'd be like oh he's PRETENTIOUS. lol ok. he's a senior in high school, of course he sometimes acts like he knows everything. why do you act like he's a lost cause? i could also tell that there must've been some personal jealousy in there bc his brother was kind of the "more accomplished" sibling, did better in school, that sort of thing. i don't know what it's like to be an older sibling or to feel like you're living in the shadow of a sibling, especially a younger one, because i've always kind of been on a different path than any of my siblings/there hasn't really been a sense of competition between us. i would try to give him the benefit of the doubt and be like "well i guess i really don't know what that's like" because you CAN'T assume. i give EVERYONE the benefit of the doubt and i try to take people, especially when they're being vulnerable with me, at their word, which is exactly how i got so involved with this guy and ended up being so used by him and under his thumb. horrible. he's a monster. anyway.
and whenever i'd be like "well he's just a kid" to every negative thing he'd say about his little brother, that's when he'd dismiss the subject and stop talking about it. and this isn't something that came up a couple of times but came up a LOT. he'd shit talk his brother to me at least several times a week, always unprompted, because why would i wanna hear someone badmouth a teenager? and it'd always be the pettiest shit. one time he even told me that he noticed his brother didn't come home last night and he didn't know where he was and i was like "oh my god is he ok? that's terrifying" and it's like he did that just so he could tell me "no i don't really care honestly. the two of us aren't close." it's like he wasn't just not-close with this kid but he was obsessed with hating him.
not only did his reasons never seem to satisfy me, but he never seemed to acknowledge that his little brother shared all of the traumas and adverse experiences he grew up with, the discrimination he faced and the familial trauma and the structures of abuse he would tell me about from his parents. he would mention how these are all the problems and the reasons he can't trust people and why he's so fucked up but he didn't seem to have any patience or empathy for someone younger than him brought up in the same exact environment. it's like he wanted his brother to always just fuck off and die.
none of this made any sense to me, it was if anything the BIGGEST sense of confusion i had with him for a long time because i dismissed all the ways he was cruel to *just me* until i started picking up all his patterns and realizing this all WASN'T just how he treats me. HE is the problem; HE is this entitled and controlling and nasty and manipulative towards everyone; HE has no self-awareness or regard for other people. it's not just ME not having the guts to stand up for myself when he made me feel uncomfortable or when i'd feel disrespected by something he said to/about me. he would know when he was saying something unacceptable or losing his temper; he did it with other people all the time. but he isolated and then lovebombed me so hard that i didn't see that this WAS how he treated everyone, but he made me in particular his prey because i was a trusting and trustworthy stranger, rather than someone who had seen him behave in such a way towards other people and could make the informed choice to stay away from him. it was never JUST ME but how could i have known that?? how?? i didnt know anything about his life except what he'd tell me, and he was actively sucking me away from all parts of my life he wasn't involved in, and/or forcing his way into them. there was no space between him and me; my life became his because he hijacked it and then forced me to do all his emotional labor and solve all his problems so i'd hardly have any energy to face my own.
anyway. yeah. it all made MUCH more sense when i realized HE is the problem between him and his brother. that didn't stick out as a red flag because again i'm trusting and i accept all these hypothetically broken or damaged familial relationships people have. HE really wanted me to hate this teenager for no good reason, like he wanted me to hate everyone else in his life that he'd ever decide to cast as a villain. i never understood why the teenage boy. never understood it. i'm like he's just a boy. OH but you're an awful horrible jerk who can't get along with anyone for longer than 2 minutes before you try and take control of everything about them and then lash out if they try to assert their independence. OOOHHH ok i get it now that makes sense. because that's what you've been doing to me all this time ohhh i get it.
#wow this is such a long post lol#long post#tales from diana#im not proofreading this so if this makes no sense well whatever#sorry if you... missed my... constant crises about this situation over the summer?#i do still have nightmares about him lol#i have otherwise been moving on... pretty ok#you know it's just such a relief to not talk to him anymore ever. love that#i have him blocked too 🖤🖤🖤#and he isn't a school/work acquaintance and we don't live suuuper close where i'd worry about seeing him in public randomly#i have had some friends that i explained our falling out to that have randomly ran into him. and he glared at them. lol#he really tried to involve all my friends in the messiest ways after he realized he was losing his control over me.#he was acting so entitled and imposing and overly-familiar and spilling all his 'problems' hes having with me#to ppl that i had introduced him to a couple of times and he would never be emotionally close with#but now he wants to pour his heart out about how he's been victimized by my callousness towards him (read: my individual identity/needs)#like what a fucking trainwreck that was.#in fact i encouraged him to be vulnerable with some of these friends like he was ALWAYS being vulnerable to me#making me support him 24/7 and literally never giving me time to do or think about anything else#never reciprocating interest or concern when it comes to my own life in any way. even if he KNEW about problems i had going on#just no sympathy from him whatsoever. he was just a sympathy vampire. he took and took and took and never gave back.#like i said he's the most self-centered person i've ever met.#yeah. i need to drop this now#but i do feel bad for his little brother. bc everything i ever felt sympathy for him for also applies to his brother#but his BROTHER has never shown any signs to me of being nearly as disgusting as he is.#he's brother's just a kid. but imagine having such a nightmare of a brother for the rest of your life. im sorry to him
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inkedbybarnes · 1 month
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unclear
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.
word count: 2.4k
warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.
i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!
dividers by @cafekitsune!
comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡
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“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?'
wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.
although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.
"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"
"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.
"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."
you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.
but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.
"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"
wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.
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the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.
although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.
after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.
considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.
he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.
"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.
"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"
you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.
your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.
"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"
"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"
before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."
and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."
you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.
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you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.
it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.
"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"
"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."
"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"
friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.
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your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.
with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.
your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.
"ah, fuck."
you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.
"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"
you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"
your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.
"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"
"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"
"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."
"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."
"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."
"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."
oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.
"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."
you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.
"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."
"bucky..."
"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."
"even if i ask for your arm?"
he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"
"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.
"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."
his girl. you loved hearing that.
"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.
"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"
"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."
"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."
"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.
"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"
you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"
he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."
your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.
"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."
bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"
you smiled. "like the old times."
in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.
"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.
"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."
"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.
"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."
bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.
and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.
a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.
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if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌
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satoruxx · 6 months
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pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: bestfriend!satoru has returned, fluff, pining, slightly angsty bc of pining, simp satoru hehe, oblivious reader is back again, satoru loves you !! rheya's note: continuation to this drabble bc bestfriend!satoru is everything to me !!
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bestfriend!satoru who insists that you have him on speed dial because "he's the most important person in your life" but really it just satisfies him to know that he's the first one you'd call if you needed anything.
bestfriend!satoru who started off being a bit of an ass when you first met. not because he was trying to be but because he's got an ego and doesn't know how to control it, until you call him out for his shit and it sends his heartbeat all out of wack.
bestfriend!satoru who doesn't trust anyone else around you. it's not out of concern or anything, oh no. but in his expert opinion only him and the people he trusts (like suguru, shoko, or nanami) should ever get within six feet of you.
bestfriend!satoru who waits outside every class for you, leaning against the wall with a bag of your favorite snacks in his hand, glasses perched low on his nose. the smile that crawls onto his face as you walk out of the classroom and join him is practically blinding.
bestfriend!satoru who grows older thinking of nothing but you. the person most important to him, the person he would move galaxies for. and no, it's not romantic or anything. he's just your best friend.
bestfriend!satoru who realizes that he's not the only one in the world who knows that you're attractive, and has to clench his fists with a scowl as he sees other men noticing you. then he has to stop and check himself because, why on earth is he mad about it?
bestfriend!satoru who starts openly staring at you because he can't even control it anymore, eyes soft and overflowing affection as he watches you indulge in silly mundane tasks. and when you turn and catch him looking all he can do is give you a dreamy little smile. he's got no excuses but he's gonna play it off like it's something you shouldn't worry about anyway.
bestfriend!satoru who makes you his number one priority, who doesn't care about anyone else when you're in front of him. and even if you aren't around, he can't bring himself to look at anyone else. if someone comes up to him on the street, mumbling something about how he's their type and they'd like his contact info, all he does is give them a breezy wave, saying "sorry. i got someone waiting for me."
bestfriend!satoru who, when you're trying to explain something and someone speaks over you, gives you a resolute "no i'm listening." and doesn't take his eyes away from you until you've said all that you needed to. don't ever think that nobody is listening to you because you always have his attention.
bestfriend!satoru who grits his teeth as you tell him about another unsuccessful date with a man who didn't even know how to treat you right. and how could they, when they don't even know how you like your coffee or what side of the bed you prefer to sleep on? they don't know what your favorite movie snack is or about your obsession with plants or your most precious pair of fluffy socks. not the way he does.
bestfriend!satoru who has to hold himself back during your ranting, who has to keep himself from just letting go and spilling that you weren't going to find someone who loved you more than he did. to stop himself from leaning down and kissing you so hard it takes your breath away, because he's wanted to do it since he was sixteen. he was just too stupid to understand it back then.
bestfriend!satoru who chooses to wait instead, knowing that he'll be stuck with these feelings for the rest of his life, so he'd rather wait for you. because he'd hate himself if he made you uncomfortable, and if he lost the relationship he had with you now over his silly little heart. no instead, he'll keep proving himself, staying by your side and showing you even just of fraction of the devotion he knows he has for you, if it means that you'll be by his side. and hoping that one day, maybe, you'd tell him you feel the same.
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navybrat817 · 4 months
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Indulgence
Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.
“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”
“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…���
“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”
“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”
“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”
You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.
“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.
You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.
You were more than happy to help.
“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.
You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.
But it wasn't that cut and dry.
“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.
You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.
He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.
That was where you came into the picture.
If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.
“You wanna be my angel?”
You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.
While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.
Unlike your last boyfriend.
As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.
Was it a recipe for disaster?
The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.
His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.
You had it bad.
“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”
Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.
Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.
“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.
He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”
You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.
“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.
“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.
“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.
Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.
He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.
It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.
“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.
He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.
He wouldn't budge on that rule.
“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.
His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.
Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.
You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.
Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.
“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”
His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Three months since we started this,” he answered.
You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.
A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”
Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?
“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”
You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.
And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.
He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”
“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”
He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.
“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”
Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.
You trusted him and he made you feel safe.
“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.
A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.
“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.
So were you.
It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.
You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.
He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.
Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.
“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”
A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”
“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."
“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”
He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.
“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.
“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.
“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”
“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.
He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.
“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”
“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”
Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.
“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”
You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.
“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”
“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.
And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.
Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.
“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”
Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.
“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”
You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”
In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.
He took you to heaven when he was inside you.
“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.
“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”
“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”
Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.
Flaws and all.
“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”
Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.
“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”
It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.
“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.
“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”
“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”
“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”
“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.
“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”
Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?
Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”
He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”
The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.
“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.
Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”
Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.
“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.
A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.
It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.
Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.
You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.
At least, that was what he told you.
You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?
Had you taken care of him?
Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.
“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.
“You okay?”
“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.
For now.
He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”
“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”
His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”
You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.
You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?
Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.
“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.
He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”
Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.
You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.
“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.
He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”
Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.
“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”
He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”
There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.
One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.
You wondered if Bucky told her about you.
“What’s there to like?” He asked.
You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”
“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.
“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.
Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.
Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.
“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.
It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.
And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.
Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?
“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”
“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”
You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.
That day changed your life.
“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”
“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”
There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.
In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.
Permanently.
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I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
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assassinsblade · 4 months
Text
Forget Me Not | 7
You and Azriel begin again.
WC: 5.1k
Warnings: References to past SA, finally some fluff, smut, p in v, dirty talk, oral, really just some lovey dirty scenes
a/n: This is it, we've reached the end of Forget Me Not! Thank you to everyone for supporting my first ACOTAR work on here. I'm currently writing another Az oneshot right now, so stay tuned if you liked my writing :)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
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Entering Azriel's bedroom felt different this time around. You had grown so accustomed to his absence in the past week that the feeling of him behind you sent shivers down your spine.
The room went from being cold and empty to warm and stifling. Your nerves were giddy under your skin, jumping with insecurity and excitement as the shadowsinger guided you to the middle of the space.
"It smells like you in here," he commented, voice soft and amused.
You tried not to feel embarrassed. "I missed you. I'm sorry if it was inappropriate or rude to intrude on your space. It helped me to be in here."
Azriel turned you around to face him, pulling you closer once more. His fingertips brushed the skin of your face lightly, caressing your chin between his thumb and forefinger before his eyes swept up to meet your own.
"You're my mate," he said gently, and you tracked the way his lips curved around the words. "I want you here. I want this entire space smelling of you in every way possible."
Your breath caught at his words, at the underlying tone and implication. Gods, you wanted to eat him alive. You wanted him to eat you alive.
"Azriel..." you whispered, your lips inching forward toward his own. His eyes dropped down to meet the movement, flicking back up to your own before being drawn to your mouth once again.
"We don't have to do anything tonight."
You knew that. You knew he would wait, would be patient as you navigated your newfound relationship with him and how it intertwined with your trauma. But you also knew that you felt so safe and warm and complete there in his arms, and you knew you wanted him.
"I know. But I want to."
He shuddered, and the hand flexed against your lower back tightened imperceptibly. "Are you sure?"
Looking at the male in front of you, at his kind hazel eyes, his soft pink lips waiting to claim you, his gentle touch so calm and undemanding, you were absolutely sure. You felt that thrum of love flow in your chest, and the reminder that it was going both ways made you melt further into him.
"Yes." You barely got the word out before you brought your lips to his.
He brought you into him gently, his hands summoning you to meet the rest of his body, like a wave rocking you softly in its rhythm until you laid smoothly against the warm shore. You curled into him instinctually, your hands making their way up his chest and onto his skin, feeling and grasping, grabbing at anything they could claim.
He made a small noise into your mouth, as if he couldn't help it, and your knees shook slightly at the reaction. He tasted like how it felt to drink water, and you felt so dehydrated, like you could drown in him and never quite have enough.
You pushed into him harder, but he kept his touch on you light, holding you but not using the strength you could feel in his muscles. Your tongue found the the opening to his mouth, and he let you in seamlessly, letting you guide the kiss, take what you needed.
Mor had always said that Azriel never had issues finding partners. There were rumors about the shadowsinger, about his highly-praised (and well above-average) attributes, his talents in the bedroom, and his wide range of sexual interests. But he wasn't taking that control he was so often associated with. He was allowing you to dominate, to take control, and to do what you wanted to him.
You wondered how often Azriel had given the reigns to someone else in the past, and your heart thumped with appreciation.
Your fingers found his leathers, trying to remove them from his torso as your tongue explored his own. His own scarred hands found your own to help, pulling back slightly to give your bottom lip a nip before pulling the fabric from his body.
You nearly groaned in impatience in the few seconds he was pulled away from you, but then you were able to freely roam his warm skin. He was smooth, and muscled, and scarred, and warm, and you could have licked up his torso if it wasn't for the way he immediately dove back into a kiss, his gentle hands cupping your face and strong forearms framing your neck.
There was more force behind his actions this time, but he kept you in control, allowing you to move the both of you back toward the bed, allowing your own hands to remove your nightgown from your body and letting it drop to the floor.
You pulled him on top of you in his blankets, giving him a kiss before pulling back. His gold green eyes were blazing in the darkness of the bedroom, the starlight shining through the window illuminating the light in them.
"Touch me," you begged him, fingers tangling in his hair.
His biceps cradled where your head laid, and you wanted to turn and kiss up the strong arms, to touch him everywhere you could. But you needed his hands on you, his mouth, his entire body.
"You don't need to beg. I'll do anything you want."
And then his lips were trailing along your jaw, skimming and nipping down your neck, sending your chin tipping back to give him more access. His tongue soothed where his teeth nipped, and his breath tickled your skin in all of the right, sensitive places.
Chills went down your spine as he moved lower, worshipping the skin over your collarbone, down your sternum, until he reached your breasts. His eyes met yours through dark lashes, and you nearly jerked your core up to meet his hips at the look he gave you.
Then his tongue was wrapping around your nipple, and you gasped. He teased and flicked and sucked and grasped, and you were writhing, gripping his hair and sucking in harsh breaths.
You had never felt so sensitive, so willing to unravel for a male before.
His free hand was stroking the rest of your skin lightly, his fingertips just barely meeting your body in teasing motions, sending goosebumps to the surface to meet him. By the time that hand skimmed over your other breast, you were ready to start begging again.
But Azriel was perceptive -- when it came to his surroundings and especially when it came to you -- so he didn't make you wait long nor beg. He changed his direction immediately to your other breast, allowing the cool air to tease the one he had worked while giving equal attention to the next.
You were becoming greedy yourself, your fingers skimming down his muscled back, searching for any part of him you could touch. His broad shoulders enveloped your form underneath him, and you loved it, loved him, loved feeling shielded by him. His dark wings were drawn tight along his back, as if he was focused on you and only you, not allowing any part of himself to relax or benefit quite yet. You wanted to touch them, make him lose his resolve-
His mouth moved lower, traveling along your stomach until he reached the band of your underwear, mouthing along the edge. His large fingers dwarfed the elastic, and your eyes nearly rolled back at the sight. But you couldn't do anything but nod when he looked to you for permission.
He gave your lower stomach one last kiss before pulling the underwear down your legs, his fingers trailing after the fabric as if he were tracing a painting, a piece of artwork he would need to commit to memory.
His lips kissed up your ankle, up your thigh, before landing on your hipbone, your leg resting over his shoulder lightly.
Then his hot breath met your core and your head was tilting back, the anticipation causing your body to shudder and your hips to buck. His strong forearm came down on your hips in response, holding you to the bed before placing his mouth on you.
And gods, did he feel good.
From the moment his tongue lightly traced up your core, you knew that he knew what he was doing.
He didn't dive into you haphazardly, not rough nor starved-- he moved with precision, teasing and flicking, and making you ache and ache and ache.
His free hand gripped the inside of one of your thighs, pushing your leg open slightly to give him more access. And when he moaned at the taste of you, you couldn't help but let out a small cry in response.
"I'd be the happiest male if I could spend the rest of my life between your legs."
He sounded absolutely devastated.
He kissed along your inner thighs once more, one finger stroking up you before circling your clit and moving back down again. Your breathing was heavy with his actions, trying to monitor where he was going, what he was doing, how he was pulling on every nerve ending in your body.
Then his middle finger was easing its way into your entrance, and you were gasping, back arching from the bed.
Your hands gripped the covers as his mouth found your clit again, the dual sensation nearly taking you to your release already. His finger moved inside of you, not necessarily searching but instead attempting to stretch you for him, get you ready if you were to move forward to anything more tonight. The thought nearly made you feral.
"Please-" you choked out. You didn't know what you were begging for, what you were trying to say, but you just needed more of him. All you would ever need for the rest of your life was him.
Another finger prodded at your entrance, and then he was stretching you further, his thick fingers moving and curling inside of you until you saw stars. It was as if the roof to the House of Wind had blown off and you could see the skies above you, Azriel's siphons gleaming behind your eyelids.
He didn't give as he guided you higher, fingers and tongue moving together with a rhythm you would worship him over later. The noises coming from you, the gasping, the whimpering, would have been embarrassing if you could have even heard any of it over the ringing in your ears, over the pure pleasure coursing through your veins.
When you tipped over the edge, Azriel kept himself attached to you, his one arm keeping you in place as you shook against the bed, your fingers gripping his hair and your eyes squeezing shut with the overwhelming pleasure.
It wasn't until your grip loosened on him that he pulled back, drawing his fingers from your core and bringing them up to his mouth. You could barely see him through the haze going through your mind, and the fact that he hadn't done the action as a display for you, but because he wanted to, felt the need to, had you nearly cumming again.
You attempted to catch your breath as he stood from his position, the strain at the front of his leathers nearly making your mouth water. You wanted more, needed more, needed your mate -- all of him.
Your limbs shook with exertion as you pulled yourself to your knees on the bed, reaching for his waistband. His hands caught your wrists, however, bringing them back down to your sides as he leaned down and placed a surprisingly heartfelt kiss on your forehead.
"Another time," he told you. "I just want you right now."
And you were not about to refuse him that.
You let him guide you back down onto the pillows, his hand ensuring one was under your head before letting you go and moving to remove his pants. The sight that greeted you was otherworldly.
You had heard rumors. But he was unreal.
And his slight smirk and posturing said he knew it.
You smiled at him before you could help it, gesturing for him to return to you. He was back on top of you before you could blink, and his mouth was on yours. You could feel as some of the control he always seemed to need took over for him, allowing him to curl his tongue against your own, to bite at your bottom lip, to grip your body just a little harder against his own.
"What do you want, sweetheart?" His voice was gravelly in your ear, and you preened against him, pressing your breasts against his chest.
"You, please, I want all of you. I've always wanted you."
He could have teased you for how desperate you sounded, the breathiness of your voice, the way you lifted your hips to meet his, to try to draw him in. But he didn't. Instead, he pulled his lips away from your own, allowing them to just barely brush before declaring his love for you.
He swallowed harshly before speaking the words again. "I love you."
You nodded, feeling emotions building in your chest, feeling that golden tie blazing bright. "I love you, Azriel."
And in that moment, not even yet physically connected, you knew you and him could get through anything together. You were willing to die for the male above you and he for you. While the past could not be ignored, your future together held hope and promise, and you would latch onto that with everything you had, gripping that golden thread with a vengeance.
"Show me," you told him, your eyes watering despite yourself.
And then his lips were on yours again, and the passion behind the kiss sent your head reeling. You felt the head of him press against you before a slight stretch stung between your legs. You gasped into his mouth at the feeling, at the weight of him moving inside of you, and he welcomed your reaction, peppering kisses over your cheeks as you adjusted.
He was large, but you loved it. Loved every inch of him inside of you. Loved the feeling of him filling you physically and emotionally, the golden thread growing brighter and brighter the further he entered you, the more he filled and touched every part of you.
And the feeling seemed to make its way through your entire body, fire lighting in your soul, igniting pleasure in your core that shot to your fingertips and toes.
You moaned when he finally seated himself all the way inside you, his hands coming up to cup your face and make sure you were okay. You couldn’t help the tears rolling silently down your cheeks, the overwhelming emotion that was building inside of you. You had loved this male for so long, and here he was, connected to you on a whole other level, loving you, and you could feel it coming from deep in his soul.
“Are you alright?” He asked softly, kissing at your temple.
“Yes. I’m just happy.”
He swallowed hard at your words and soft smile, kissing you again before slowly pulling out of you and making his way back in. The movement sent sparks floating in your vision, and his answering grunt was enough to have you grasping at his shoulders.
His hands found your own, pulling them from around him and instead intertwining your fingers together with his, laying them gently by your head as he encased your body with his own. His wings spread above you two like a blanket, like the dark of night and his comforting shadows, and you held tightly onto him.
“I love you,” he told you again, as if he had been trying to hold the words back.
“My mate.” You smiled at him, and his pace picked up. His thrusts went from being slow and sensual to passionate and hard, and you brought your mouth to his shoulder to try to cover the loud noise that escaped you at the pleasure of him.
“You’re so perfect. Everything about you is absolutely unbelievable.”
But what you were feeling was even more so. Every inch of him, every rigid muscle, every texture of smooth and scarred skin, made you want to hold onto him and never let go. A bliss unlike any other followed each of his strokes into you, filling you with love and passion and sending blood rushing to your core.
You were absolutely drenched, his hips moving so easily in and out of the bracket of your legs, that you would have been embarrassed if not for the noises of pure male satisfaction coming from Azriel.
He was enjoying you as much as you were enjoying him, and the thought sent a wave of pride through you.
His thick length continued to spread you open with each thrust, and you don’t think you’d ever felt so satisfied and full. He was touching every part inside of you, from your entrance to your cervix to the bond singing in your chest, he was pushed up against your walls and throbbing.
You cried out as he repeatedly hit that spot inside of you, and one of his hands immediately broke from your own and came down to the peak of your thighs, fingers finding the bud and rubbing and circling until your toes were curling-
“I-I can’t…” you gasped out.
“I’ve got you,” Azriel cooed. “Let me see my mate fall apart. Let me take care of you.”
And you knew he would. He held you tightly, protectively covering you with his own body, his other arm looping around your waist to pull your hips closer to his own.
Then you were rising and falling, clenching so tightly around him you thought you might be causing him pain. But all you could focus on was the bliss shooting through your body, the shaking of your limbs, the white blinding your vision, and the gold gleaming in your chest.
By the Cauldron, you were trembling, your entire body overcome with pleasure, and Azriel guided you through it, speaking sweet words in your hair, hand still moving, hips still pumping.
“Gods, you feel so good,” he grunted out. “My perfect mate. My everything.”
Your mind was ringing with the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body relaxed and tingling and high up in the clouds. But you savored the moment still, your fingers brushing over the muscles in Azriel’s shoulders, feeling them move and tense under your touch, the obvious strength under his skin causing you to clench around him.
He cursed, spreading your legs further for him and dropping his forehead to rest against your own.
“Where do you want me?”
Everywhere. You wanted him inside you forever, you wanted him buried as far as he could go.
“Inside me. Please.”
His eyes squeezed shut at your words, a guttural moan leaving his throat. You already were imagining how the male above you would look completely unleashed, allowing his kinks and obsession with control to ravish you in the bedroom. Next time, you told yourself, you would break that leash he held on himself, and you would let him completely and utterly tear you to shreds.
“Fuck, sweetheart.”
His rough tone had you bucking your hips to meet his, and then his hands were gripping your hips hard, his fingertips digging into the skin, holding you still and tight until it ached and bruised and you were keening into him.
Heat swelled inside of you as he emptied himself, and you let out a moan of your own at the feeling, both of your satisfied noises melding together to create a sound you would commit to memory.
He was panting and grunting and you could feel your wetness mixing with Azriel’s spend as it leaked its way out from inside of you and around your thighs. He pulsed and pulsed and you couldn’t help your body’s own reaction at the sensation as you clenched in return.
It was overwhelming and otherworldly and you would never get enough of it.
When he was finished, he nearly collapsed above you, catching himself with his strong hands, his hair falling into his eyes. He looked so beautiful. So relaxed and undone and glowing.
You loved him so incredibly much.
He didn’t remove himself from your body, only looked at you as if he couldn’t really believe you were there, that this wasn’t a dream.
You pushed yourself up slightly, lightly pressing a gentle kiss to his sharp jaw. He sighed at the action, closing his eyes and savoring it, and you immediately wanted to do it again.
He swallowed before meeting your eyes again. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
You grasped him tighter. “Stay.”
He chuckled, and the unguarded, light sound had a smile breaking onto your face in return.
“We have all night together,” he reassured. “Let me do this right.”
His thumb stroked over your cheek, and you wanted to smile, to cry, to kiss him. But you let him do what he needed to feel like a good mate and caretaker. He planted one last soft kiss to your lips before gently removing himself from you. You inhaled sharply at the absence of him and at the feeling of his seed leaking from you, already missing the way he felt.
He glanced down to watch as he dripped down your core and thighs, eyes gleaming at the sight. He was then ripping himself away, as if watching any longer would prevent him from moving from your side, would cause him to dive down face-first into you once again.
You watched him walk to his bathroom, his muscular backside a sight against the moonlight shining in his room. You wanted to run after him, to tackle him to the bathroom floor and ride him again right there.
You controlled yourself, though, and waited for his return. He was gentle as he cleaned you up with a washcloth, covering you with a shirt of his own and placing a glass of water on his bedside table.
Once he joined you under the covers, you turned to face him, hand reaching out for him on instinct, and he welcomed the movement immediately. His arms pulled you close, and the connection felt so natural, as if the two of you had never not been in the others’ arms.
His wings, now relaxed with contentment, circled around the two of you, causing you to move closer to him.
“Rest,” he said finally, voice thick with exhaustion. “We can talk more in the morning.”
You nodded, tracing your fingers down his chest.
“You’ll be here?”
His bright eyes met your own, and your heart clenched as he repeated those words he had said months ago in your bedroom, when you hadn’t believed him for a second, when your body was the exact opposite as it was now, turned away from him and guarded.
“I’m not leaving,” he spoke softly. “Never again.”
And you believed him.
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It was the best night of sleep you had gotten in awhile. You had never felt so safe and comforted than surrounded by Azriel, by his arms, his wings, his covers, and in his room. Everything that was him was all around you, and you basked in it.
When you both had awoken, the shadowsinger watched as you dressed with his heart in his eyes, and you gestured for him to do the same so the two of you could get some food and start your day.
What you hadn’t prepared for, was Cassian and Rhys sitting in the kitchen with smirks on their faces.
“Good morning,” Rhysand commented, his lips shaped into a shit-eating grin as he brought his mug to his mouth.
“Rhys,” Azriel greeted, his voice holding a low tone of warning.
Cassian looked over his shoulder at the two of you from where he was making his breakfast, scrunching his nose as if pretending to smell what you had been up to.
“You know,” he said nonchalantly, “I was right this whole time. I called you two being mates months ago.”
“Technically, Feyre guessed correctly first.” Rhys interrupted.
“We get it.” Azriel moved closer to Cassian’s side, snagging a piece of bacon from his plate. “I was an idiot.”
Rhys gave you a wink at Azriel’s words and you nearly blushed.
“Not anymore, it seems.”
Azriel gave the high lord a look, and Rhysand let out a laugh. “Alright, alright. Just come see me when you have a minute. We have to go over a few things with the Illyrian camps.”
Azriel nodded at his friend and the two shared a heartfelt look between them. You had always admired the trio’s friendship, the way they would lay their lives on the line for one another without question.
“Seriously though, I am happy for you both,” Rhys said, to which Cassian turned around and gave you a look of agreement. “But if either of you are idiots again, I’m kicking you out of Velaris.”
That sounded about right.
“Alright, out.” Azriel demanded, pushing his brothers out of the kitchen.
They bickered back and forth with one another to the door, and you couldn't help the smile that fought its way onto your face. This was your family, your friends, and your mate. This was your home.
When Azriel was back in the kitchen, he sighed at their antics, but you could tell he was endeared with his brothers.
He gave you a kiss on the top of your head before moving to the cabinets, pulling out some ingredients to make you breakfast. The sight of your mate cooking for you reminded you of the bond in your chest, the expectation there.
You two were mates, that much was obvious. You felt the golden presence in your chest, you could feel your partner within you should he allow it, but you hadn't technically accepted it yet -- accepted him yet.
And despite how much you loved him, you weren't ready to.
As if sensing the shift in your comfort, Azriel turned to look at you.
"You okay?" He asked, fingers setting the pieces of bread he had gotten out on the counter.
"Yeah, just thinking," you tried to give him a small smile.
"What about?"
His full attention was on you, and your nerves tingled under the weight of his gaze. You both were moving forward, and you didn't want to mess this up, didn't want to make you both take steps backward in your progress, but you also didn't want to be stupid. So much had happened in the past few months, and you wanted to be smart, confident, and sure in each of your decisions. You had so much taken away from you recently, you wanted for once to be able to plan and experience and allow for some natural growth.
"What if I told you I wanted to wait to accept the mating bond?"
Azriel's eyes softened, and you couldn't help the pang of guilt that shot through your chest at the thought of your words hurting him, making him doubt himself and how you felt about him.
"I'll wait however long you need," he told you, voice resolute.
"I want to be your mate. I am your mate," you clarified. "I just think we should give ourselves some time before a ceremony or something. We can go on dates, court a little bit, and I'd like to get to the point where I feel comfortable with us around Elain."
He flinched slightly at her name, at the reminder of what he had done to you, how he had been so focused on the middle-Archeron sister, she had smothered his thoughts of you.
The feelings made their way down the bond, and you knew this was another thing that would take some time. The two of you may be dealing with the repercussions of the past few months for a while, but time would help, and you both were ready to move forward with one another.
"It's okay," you told him gently.
He nodded, giving you a soft doubtful smile, but still he moved to your side and tilted your head up, pulling your lips to his own.
"I love you," he reminded you.
"And I, you."
His lips brushed against your own again, and you leaned in further, wanting to connect yourself further. He pulled back.
"When you want to accept the bond, I will give you whatever you want. A private ceremony, a party celebrated throughout all of Velaris, you name it. You just let me know when."
And you would. In the meantime, the two of you would go on dates, would talk more about your pasts and histories, would go back to sharing your interests and visiting that pastry shop you loved so much.
Azriel would make you feel wanted and loved, and you would make him feel like the kind-hearted hero he was. The two of you would hang around the rest of the inner circle side-by-side. Even when Elain was present and Azriel's guilt thudded through the bond, you would move forward. You felt nothing toward her on his end but regret, and you felt the love being pushed through the bond toward you instead.
It would take time and commitment, but you were ready with him by your side. And he reminded you every day that he was not leaving. The two of you were a package deal now -- hand-in-hand, together.
And a year later, when Azriel walked through the doors of the House of Wind to find you in the kitchen, slaving away at a recipe you had spoken of multiple times, nerves thrumming down the bond and your rosy cheeks showing your flustered state, his heart thumped in his chest.
You gave him a soft smile, your hair messy with your efforts, and your outfit messed up from cooking. And he was so in love.
A bowl placed on the dining table, a candle lit, and a glass of wine poured.
Tears filled his eyes, because he never thought he would deserve this. Not a year ago, and not now.
But you only smiled at him, nodding with encouragement.
And then his tears were falling, his shadows swarming over you until you released contagious giggles, and he was scarfing down the food like a man starved for weeks.
If someone had told Azriel a year ago, that in the very same spot he nearly dropped to his knees at the opportunity to make the broken girl in front of him a mug of tea, he would be granted the blessing of her mating bond, he wouldn't have believed it.
But as the golden thread in his chest pulsed and shined and glimmered with love and renewed strength, he cried.
I'm yours, it spoke to him. And you are mine.
And forever will we be tied together.
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idilarila · 4 months
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Twisted wonderland boys when you turn into a baby!
Sooo, let’s say that in alchemy class something went wrong and you got transformed into a toddler, how would they take care of you?
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Leona: -At first Leona refused to take care of you because he already had enough with Cheka without having to take care of you now. -However, seeing how calm you were, he let you approach him little by little. -Little to say, Leona used you more as a stuffed animal than anything else, but look the positive side, he fed you perfectly (a lot of meat, Sorry if you happen to be vegetarian or vegan 😭) and he didn't leave you alone.
Trey: -Trey has younger brothers, so he knows exactly how to deal with you. -You make him very tender since you remind him of his little sister/brother, and at the same time Trey can't help but think about what it would be like to have a child with you in the future. -He cooked you a lots of sweets, from macaroons (sorry if I wrote it wrong 😭🖐🏻) to strawberry cakes, chocolate… -So Your tummy ended up hurting and he felt very guilty.
-But he made sure you brushed your teeth after eating!
Idia: -Panic. -Literally the only kid he knows how to deal with is Ortho, so when he sees you he gets very nervous. -Don't get him wrong, he finds you the most adorable and tender, but he just doesn't know what to do or say. -In the end the one who ends up taking care of you is Ortho while Idia plays her video games 5m away in his room. -Together with Ortho you played hide and seek for a couple of hours until finally the teachers found a potion to return you to your normal state.
Rook: -LOVES so much the idea of being able to see you this small and adorable look. -It's simple -He didn't leave you for a moment, a little more and you guys would even to shit together LMAO -He laughed when he saw you chasing the squirrels in Pomefiore's garden, he thought you were deadly adorable -He couldn't help but think about what it would feel like to raise your future children together, he definitely already has a whole life planned with you, it's inevitable, our favorite hunter unexpectedly became a prey for love <3
Malleus:
-It makes Malleus laugh how your little being looks at his horns with eyes full of curiosity. -He put you on his shoulders and carried you all the time, letting you touch his horns as much as you want, you can be proud, that is a privilege that he only grants to you because you are his beloved human <333 -He took you to see the gargoyles with him, honestly he is another one who took you everywhere with him. -Everything must be said and it is that he had to ask Lilia for a little advice because he controls more of the subject, although it was not too much since as we already know Malleus also participated in raising Silver and because of this he has a little experience
Jade:
-Jade is a very busy person without a doubt, after all he is the one who is in charge more than anything of managing the monstro lounge and of following Azul’s "orders" together with Floyd, however, he is capable of get organized enough to be able to take care of your infant self -He finds it very funny and tender to see your innocence from when you were little. -He certainly doesn't let you be with other students, especially Floyd, since it's not difficult for anyone to guess how that would end… Although he also does it because deep down he would be very jealous if someone stole your attention -He put a mushroom on your head 🕴
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I hope you all liked it, stay safe and healthy! <333
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groguandin · 9 months
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charlie: "do you remember the first time that you kissed me? you didn't even ask, you didn't pause to wonder whether it was what i wanted and I went along with it because I had a crush and I didn't know any better. I didn't realise that you had all the control. When I eventually did realise, I thought this must be what I deserve, someone taking whatever he wants from me, whenever he wants treating me like I'm nothing the rest of the time. Now when ever, anything good happens in my life, there's a voice in the back of my mind, telling me I'm worthless, and that I don't deserve it, and now you want me to forgive you so that you can feel better about yourself? I'm glad you realise what you did was wrong, but you don't get to ambush me into forgiving you. 'Sorry' doesn't make up for everything you did to me. I really hope you become a better person so you don't hurt anyone else, but I don't wanna be there to see that happen. I don't wanna see you ever again."
me:
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luveline · 7 months
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Badass!reader in the verge of crying but still pretending like she isn't? Spencer doesn't even try anything and he just lets her be until eventually she cries? Just some hurt/comfort :)
If it's a no please feel free to ignore this! Have a lovely day jade <3
tysm! hope this is okay angel ♡ fem!reader, 1k
"Irresponsible, sloppy, and pig-headed." Spencer winces. "I expected more from you. I'm extremely disappointed." 
Spencer winces worse. You can take a scolding. You can take a beating. But disappointing the people you care about, and disappointing Hotch? His chest hurts for you.
He pretends to have been reading as the door to Hotch's office opens and you step out, glancing up as you take the stairs down into the bullpen. Your desk is adjacent his and Morgan's, crowded by case files you nearly send flying as you hurry into your chair. 
Spencer takes his computer mouse and clicks on the work contact page. Your instant messaging is still open, the last message he sent you glaring and awkward, hey, think hotch is going to call you in for cincinnati. don't stress. 
You'd opened it but not answered. He peeks around your monitors to analyse you. You're staring hard at a single spot. The longer he looks, the glassier your eyes become. 
He sighs and cracks his knuckles, thinking. The last thing you want is for him to make a big deal of this, he knows that, but he needs you to know that he's here for you. 
"Did you want to get dinner tonight?" he asks without raising his head. 
You respond eventually, two seconds too slowly, "Where from?"
Your voice is fraught with the weight of your upset. Spencer ignores it for now. "Luh Bem?" 
"If you want to." 
"What I want is a cup of coffee." He stands, still without staring at you —an impressive feat of self control— and begins toward the office kitchenette. Predictably, you follow him. He's already putting a second mug beside his own when you step into his reach. 
"So, did you want to go?" you ask. 
Spencer nudges your hip with his gently. "Duh. What else would I wanna do on a Friday?" He makes your coffee exactly how you like it without asking and leaves it billowing steam by his own as he adds his five sugars. 
Bringing his coffee to his lips and turns, he leans on the counter. You do as he does, murmuring a thank you as you pick up your mug. Spencer lets his arm rest on yours, ever so slightly taller, more as your back begins to slouch unconsciously. There's no point in asking you if you're okay, because you'll say that you are. There's no point in trying to comfort you, because, despite your affection for him, you're not someone who cries easily in front of others. It would have you pushing him away. 
You're a nice girl under all your hardened exterior, and Hotch's disappointment hurts. You try very, very hard not to cry, swallowing and taking little sips of your hot coffee. 
You press your coffee into his hand and turn your body toward the cabinets, away from the office. Spencer waits, and waits, his relief immeasurable as you finally hide your face in his shirt sleeve and sniffle. Even though his heart breaks for you, he's glad you're giving in. You need to let stuff out before it eats you alive. 
He puts the coffees down behind him one at a time so as not to disturb you. Hands free, he lifts the hand furthest from you to your arm. If you were somewhere more private he'd hug you to him by the small of your waist. For now, he rubs a short line down to your elbow. Up, down.
"He was being harsh," Spencer says quietly. 
"Sorry," you whisper. 
He can't imagine how mortified you are. You won't sob or even shake, but these hot and fast tears aren't unfamiliar to him. Theyll be followed by an abundance of remorse.
"What are you sorry for?" He pulls you in closer, a squeeze of a hug. "You're okay. It's okay, he's just– he's mad about other stuff, he's upset about Beth. It's not just you." 
"He's right, I messed up," you say, your breath hitching. 
"You messed up," he agrees. "It was an accident. You'll be better next time." 
You sniffle rough and lift your face, wiping your tears with a cruel hand. Spencer takes your wrist in his hand to stop you, turninh to cover you from any nosy eyes. His fingertips are as soft as his voice wiping the rest of your tears away as he laments, "Please don't cry, don't get upset." Your face is hot to the touch. "Don't be embarrassed." 
"I'm not crying," you say, a last teardrop streaking from the corner of your eye. 
He wipes it away. "Okay." 
You pout at him like you want to cry more, and Spencer wouldn't mind, he'd stand here wiping your tears for hours if you needed it, but that's your worst nightmare. 
"Are people looking at me?" 
"Nobody's looking," he answers honestly. "You're only making a scene for me." 
You laugh but quickly cough. Spencer takes his opportunity to hug you and pats your back, considers kissing the side of your head but can't make himself commit to it. 
"Do you still wanna get dinner?" you ask weakly. 
"Yeah, I do. I really do. I'll get you whatever you want." 
If it were Morgan offering, you'd step on his foot. For Spencer, your clear and evident favourite, you nod into his chest, your hand slinking low on his back. 
He hugs you so hard he feels his ribs. 
"Wanna sleepover and watch Golden Girls?" he asks, prepared for rejection. You're the type to lick your wounds alone. 
But maybe in the privacy of Spencer's apartment you'll let yourself be upset properly, so he can comfort you appropriately. It aches how badly he wants to rub the tight space between your shoulders, tell you it's fine, you're fine, and one mistake doesn't define you, it never could. 
It's evidence of your affection for him that you agree. "Could we get the dinner to go?" you ask. 
Spencer tries not to look to triumphant. He's going to coddle and comfort you half to death, and by the looks of you, you're happy to let him. "Absolutely. Whatever you want." 
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alltoowelltom · 4 months
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driving lessons
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lando norris x reader
a/n: just wanted to get back into writing and i've gotten super into F1 the last few months
"Alright, y'ready to start?" Lando asks from the passenger seat. 
You hum, running a hand over the gear shift. 
"Yeah. Let's get this shit over with."
Lando chuckles at that, rolling his eyes. It's weird for him, turning his head the other way to look at you in the driver's seat of his McLaren. He usually hates to give up control, especially when driving is involved. 
"You might start to really like it once you get confident." He suggests. "Might even put me out of a job if I'm not careful."
You double check in the rearview mirror one more time. It's a crisp, early morning on a quiet residential street that Lando picked for you to practice your driving in. He's determined for you to pass your upcoming drivers' test and finally get a license. When he'd approached you about teaching you to drive a few weeks ago you'd jumped to the wrong conclusion. 
"I'm sorry if I ask you to drive me around too often," you'd apologised immediately. "You can always say no, I don't mind getting an Uber or catching the train."
"Nah, it's not that, lovie," he'd corrected you, pulling your body closer on the couch and resting his curly head atop of yours. "I like being useful to you and driving you places. I just worry about you when I'm away, there's always so many creeps on public transport. I just want you to be safe."
Your heart had squeezed at his words. Maybe he was right, maybe it was time to finally learn to drive?
"You're all clear." he informed you, twisting around to double check the road behind you. "Just take off the handbrake, put the car into drive and pull into the road, okay?" 
You do as he says, switching on your indicator before pulling out. 
"Oh yeah," he laughs his famously high pitched laugh. "Definitely indicate too, good idea."
"I'm better at this than you already." you laugh. 
You continue to drive along the narrow streets, slowing down to let a stray cat scamper across the road. Lando seems to grow impatient at the pace, motioning for you to speed up a bit, please. 
“I didn’t know this car could go so slowly.” he says, rolling his eyes. “Gonna have to have a word with McLaren about it.”
He directs you to an intersection and you blink at the sight of so many cars whizzing past. 
"Lan, help me," you turn to him with wide eyes. 
"You're fine, love." He grins. "Wait for your gap and then merge the way they're going."
"But they're going so fast." You say. "What if I time it wrong and fuck up your car? This is not the ideal car for someone who can't actually drive."
"This is a great car." he defends. 
"The doors open up instead of out." you deadpan. "This car is out of my league."
He shrugs as he stretches out in his seat, the picture of relaxation. 
"I've added you onto my insurance as a learner driver," he says casually, almost yawning. "It'll be fine." 
You ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his statement and follow his instructions, carefully merging in behind another car. Lando cheers, placing his big hand on your thigh and lightly tracing his fingertips along your inner leg. 
"Stop that!" you shriek, slapping his hand away.
"Huh?" he blinks at you in confusion. "I'm being a loving boyfriend? I love when you have your hand on my leg while I drive, I thought you'd like it too?" he splutters. 
You take one hand off the wheel and bring it to your mouth to hide your laughter. 
"No," you say, cheeks tinged with a pink blush. "I physically can't concentrate on the road when you're touching me. Like I cannot think about anything else but you."
It's Lando's turn to blush now and he turns his face towards his window to hide it, pretending to be oh so invested in the stores you drive past. He knows the effect you have on each other, but it gives him butterflies to be reminded of how you see him. You've only been together a few months and he gets overwhelmed at how quickly you can turn him from a confident, sometimes even cocky guy to a pile of pink mush and hearts in seconds. 
"Right," he blows a puff of air out his cheeks. "You're doing great at this. Maybe we can get you driving the Jolly next?"
thank you for reading! feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated <3
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