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#I don’t even know how many times I’ve gone off on them now
ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
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would you be able/want to do something with gojo where him and the reader are both teachers and are in an established relationship but the student (aside from megumi) don’t know and start trying to figure out who gojo’s in a relationship with? i feel like gojo would either mess with them or be honest that it’s you but they just don’t believe him cause. yk. it’s you?
Hey, thank you so much for that great request, it was really fun to write! I mixed it up a little with an already existing fic of mine, I hope you don't mind. Let me know what you think <3
Part l to this fic can be found here
Gojo going nuts when his students don't believe him that you are his wife
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Pairing: husband!Gojo x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,5k
Synopsis: When Satoru wears his wedding ring for the first time in front of his students, Nobara can't help but wonder who he's married to. But when Gojo confesses it's you, his students just don't believe him.
Warnings: language, sad Gojo lol, this is an absolute comfort fanfic so there you go if that's what you need today, read part l if you haven't yet <3
Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3
„Itadori!“ Nobara hisses through gritted teeth.
“Did you just see that?”
“What do you mean?”, Yuji remarks with doe-eyes, gazing up at her with no clue what she’s even talking about.
“That ring on Gojo-sensei’s finger, you idiot”, she barks back at him while frantically running to the door in order to catch one last glimpse at him.
“Is he by any chance married, Fushiguro?”
Megumi signs to himself, staring at Nobara in nothing but annoyance. That talk from last week where she literally forced you to describe Gojo still doesn’t sit right with him. Of course, Megumi knows about your relationship. After all, he’s been with both of you for many years now, witnessed countless times how Gojo caresses your cheek gently in the darkness of privacy, how he calls you “darling” around the house and passes out on the couch next to you 10 minutes into a movie. And even though both of you never talked about this whole marriage being private thing, Megumi simply refuses to talk about your love life – even with his friends.
“I have no idea. But maybe minding your own business will help with your complexion or something”, Megumi bites back.
All of the sudden, Nobara smacks the back of his head hard.
“Hey, that’s pretty mean, you don’t have to be so rough!” Yuji complains in an instant.
“Both of you, shut up. I will just ask him when he returns. Why wouldn’t he tell me?”
“There are actually a lot of reasons not to tell you…”
“SHUT YOUR MOUTH FUSHIGURO!”
“Huh, what’s going on here? I’ve been gone for a minute and you’re already smacking your heads?”
Casually, Satoru sits down behind is desk, long legs stretched out in front of him while nipping at the coffee you just made him. Oh, how much he loves to pay you a small visit during work. Just to be assured that you’re fine, that the second years don’t get on your nerves while training them. He just loves to adore you from afar. Yes, and the minute he gets home, you’re all his and his alone.
“You’re wearing a ring on your finger”, Nobara suddenly blurts out.
Satoru tils his head to the side, gaze wandering over his wedding ring. While he normally never wears it in fear of losing it during some stupid mission, today is your anniversary. The urge to proudly show off his ring became much greater than any anxiety. Also, today is a teaching only day and he’ll return home with you by his side after this lesson is over. The things he has planned for both of you tonight…He smirks to himself, joyful like a child when thinking about the surprise that’s waiting for you at home.
“Gojo-sensei!”
Megumi’s urgent voice rips him out of his daydreams.
“So what? A ring has many meanings”, Satoru replies calmly.
You never talked about this. While you seem to silently agree that showing each other affection at Jujutsu High isn’t what you want and that you are keen to keep your relationship private, you never talked this through. Last week when you described Satoru Gojo so well as your favourite type of men, you never said his name once, probably turned completely red when Yuji mentioned it so casually.
“Yeah, like being married for example!”
“Maybe I am, who knows?”
Satoru intertwines his fingers behind the back of his head, smirking at Nobara who is close to lose her mind widely.
“Maybe you should leave him alone…”, Yuji suggests in hushed tones.
“Maybe you should shut up, Itadori. This is far too important to let it slide!”
“You are way too dramatic about this.”, Megumi comments dryly.
“You guys just don’t understand the magic behind this!”
“So you want to know what this ring means?”
Nobara’s eyes light up in an instant, filled with so much unveiled curiosity that Gojo can’t help but wonder why she is never this invested when it comes to learning.
“Please tell me!”
Let’s see what happens.
“This is my wedding ring. I’m married to (y/n) for three years by now.”
Thick silence, utter speechlessness. The expression on Nobara’s face is so priceless that the urge inside Satoru to take a picture and show it to you later almost becomes unbearable.
“What’s up, Kugisaki? Did you see a ghost?”
“There’s no way in hell this is true”, Nobara mutters into Yuji’s ear, which earns a serious nod from the pink-haired boy.
Wait, what? Satoru furrows his eyebrows while gazing at the girl in front of him in disbelief. What did she just say?
“Why on earth couldn’t this be true, huh?”, he barks at her, hands clenched into fists.
“(y/n) is a real sweetheart with great taste. I just don’t think she would get involved with someone like you. Also, she said that she likes muscular man. And she never wore a ring”, Nobara explains briefly, earning a death stare from Satoru Gojo himself.
Both Yuji and Nobara eye him up and down, critical expression plastered on their faces while whispering unclear things into each other’s ear.
Satoru is on the brick of losing it. Did his students just suggest that you are too good for him? And that he’s not muscular!?
“I am muscular!”, he cries out.
“Megumi-chan, tell them I’m married to (y/n).”
If the ground would be able to swallow Megumi whole, he would take that offer in an instant. They already discussed this stupid matter for over 10 minutes now, when will the lesson finally start?
“Don’t drag me into this. Just do your job”, Megumi mumbles in annoyance.
Of course, Satoru is very aware of the fact that you are striking gorgeous, popular even beyond the boundaries of Jujutsu High. Damn, even here there might be some men who’d want you. But he is the strongest, he is good-looking, he is funny…Why on earth wouldn’t you be married to him?
“See? Nice try Gojo-sensei, but we don’t fall for your shit.”
He can’t believe his ears, face so red that Megumi slides back in his chair just in chase.
“You brats have absolutely no idea what love actually is! I won’t let you tell me who I’m married to or not!”, Satoru spits at his students, catching the attention of you.
Huh, what’s going on inside that classroom? You were on your way to grab some cursed weapons to show Maki, but the way your husband’s furious voice is heard through the entire hall makes you stop in front of his slightly opened door.
“Why are you screaming around here, Sir?”, you question, gazing at Nobara in confusion as she almost breaks down in tears from laughing her ass off.
“(y/n), darling, tell my students that you are my wife!”, Satoru demands.
Is that why he’s so stressed, because he wanted to tell his students that the both of you are married? What is going on here?
“I already told him multiple times we don’t believe him. Last week you said you like muscular man-“
“I AM MUSCULAR!”
You desperately try to hold back a laughter, the stressed out look on your husband’s face being enough to let a little giggle escape your lips. How on earth did that topic even pop up? Your gazer wanders to the wedding ring on his cramped finger, heart filling with warmth in an instant. Oh, he really wears it.
“Maybe he’s wearing that ring only for attention…”, Nobara whispers into Yuji’s ear.
“This is getting ridiculous”, Megumi comments.
“Why don’t we all just calm down a little? Your lesson started 15 minutes ago, why are you still arguing around?”, you playfully throw at your husband.
Despite the fact that you want to throw yourself in his arms right away, you keep your cool composure. This is what he gets for picking on you last week. You’ll make him suffer just the way he did it to you.
“You are supposed to help me with this!”, he complains.
“I am supposed to work right now”, you reply sweetly before turning on your heels and closing the door.
You can’t hold back any longer. Tears start to tickle in your eyes, that priceless look on his face. Oh god, you can’t stop laughing. This evening will definitely be entertaining.
-in the evening-
“Hello, stranger”, you playfully greet your husband as soon as he returns from work, blue orbs almost piercing through you.
“You are supposed to help me! Why didn’t they believe me? I’m I really that much of a downgrade compared to you?”
That little pout forming on his delicate face warms your heart in an instant.
“Maybe it’s better this way. I like to enjoy my time with you in privacy. Nice try though”, you playfully remark, your hands gently running through his soft white hair.
Suddenly he grabs your legs, pulling your body up in the air while all you can to is shriek and laugh out lough. He carries you into the bedroom, letting your body fall onto the soft mattress.
“I will make you pay for not helping me out today you traitor.”
“Then I’m happy to be a traitor.”
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strawberrysturniolo · 3 months
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just tonight pt 2
summary: you and chris are forced to discuss moments of your past when the night before changes everything part 1
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I woke up with the sun shining far too brightly through the partly closed curtains. The hotel room air conditioner hummed as a chill overtook the room. I tried to pull the covers over me, but I struggled, dead weight on top of them.
I turned over my shoulder, finding Chris, knocked out. His lips were parted slightly, the slightest snore leaving his mouth. I would normally find this annoying, but he looks so peaceful. His curls are messy, flopping across his forehead, some strands holding a tighter curl than others. I want to play with them while he sleeps like this. 
His body rises a little bit through every breath. I’m in a trance, watching his movements. I don’t realize how long I’ve been staring, but it’s long enough for him to feel my stare burning into him.
His eyes open slowly, barely, before he shuts them again, closing his mouth and humming. “Good morning.”
His low morning voice sends chills down my spine in the best way. I mumble, “Morning,” in response, the events of last night playing on repeat in my head. 
He gives me a soft smile before lifting his head weakly, making his fatigue known. He places it carefully in my neck, pressing a soft kiss to my jaw before I feel his eyes shut, his lashes fluttering against my cheek. 
I can’t stop myself from wondering if we made a mistake. It was just a kiss, and it doesn’t have to happen again. We don’t have to take it further. 
But right now I feel our hearts beating against each other and all I’m thinking about is how great it would be to wake up like this every day. 
We lay alone with our thoughts until Chris’ phone rings, a call from Nick. He sits up straight, his back on display as the duvet cover lays across his lap. 
“How fast can you get dressed?” Chris asks me, stepping out of the bed.
I do the same, assuming we’re in a rush. “I won’t take long, why?”
He digs around in his suitcase, pulling a graphic tee out and pulling it over himself. “Breakfast closes soon downstairs, and you’re in all my stuff. The boxers only make this look worse.”
I lower my gaze to my bottoms - a pair of his underwear. They hang lower on my hips due to my sleep, and Chris’ eyes can’t move them away. 
“Yeah,” I nod. “You’re right.”
The morning goes on with me and Chris back with Nick and Matt. Things have unfortunately gone back to exactly how they were before this trip. I’m not sure what I was expecting. I don’t know why I thought things would be different, but I would be a complete idiot to think that Chris would ever not treat me like shit. 
“I was looking around at places we could take pictures later today if you guys are down,” I suggest.
As Nick peeks over at my phone, a groan leaves Chris’ mouth. One full of disgust. Nick gives him a look and asks, “What’s your problem?”
“The less time I have to spend with her, the better,” he comments. “I’m miserable enough having to watch her while I eat, not to mention having to sleep in the same room.”
“Well, at least this way you can prove to Santa that you’re not a naughty guy after all and you can be moved to the nice list,” Matt teases, trying to break the tension at the table. 
I’m embarrassed at how my mood has been ruined because of Chris. Ten minutes ago he was curled in my arms, kissing my jaw softly, and now he won’t look at me. 
The worst part is, even when we’re alone in the car, or alone in public, he still won’t look at me. 
I can understand him trying to keep things ‘normal,’ whatever that means for us, in front of his brothers. But for him to completely ignore me and blow me off when we’re alone is uncalled for. We still have yet to talk about what happened last night, no matter how many times I have wanted to bring it up. The first step is getting his attention, but he has no intention of letting that happen. 
When the day ends and we all head to our rooms, I silently get myself ready for bed, ignoring him, just as he did to me. 
As I’m standing in the mirror removing my makeup, Chris comes up behind me, leaning against the wall as he watches me. 
“Can I help you?” I ask with a snappy tone, trying to set him off just as he was doing to me for hours today. 
He sinches his eyebrows together, like he can’t believe I would ask that. “Something wrong?”
I scoff. “You tell me.”
I finish up in the bathroom and walk back out to the bedroom. Without realizing what I’m doing, I scoop up my belongings, stuffing them into bags and hooking the straps on my arms. 
His eyes go wide as he races over to me. “What are you doing?”
“Getting another room.”
“No,” he stops me, or tries to at least. He makes an attempt to pull the bag off my arms, but I yank it back.
“Get off of me.”
“What are you doing?” he asks again. 
“I’m not staying in here with you,” I say simply. 
“Why not?”
“You know why!” I shout. I have this feeling in my throat like I’m going to crumble any second. I feel betrayed, taken advantage of, used. I feel awful. Why is he doing this to me? 
“I’m sorry,” he says, doe eyed. “Please, stay here with me. We can talk, we can kiss again or–”
“No, Chris!”
He takes a step back, defeat lingering around him. “I don’t know what I did,” he says softly. 
I head towards the door. “Then you’re a fucking idiot.”
“Do you think I want to act that way in front of everyone?” he fights back. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted things to be different? I’ve thought every day about how we could change things. I would change things if you’d let me, but I was never what you wanted. You pushed me away time and time again, and the only way for me to get over you was maintaining what we did have. We had a light hearted, teasing relationship, and whenever I threw something back at you, you threw it back with ten times more baggage.”
“So this is my fault?” I challenge his claims. “You’re using that excuse to let yourself believe that ignoring me all day as if you weren’t in my arms this morning was justified?”
“Please,” he mumbles. “Put your bags down.”
He looks at me like he’s on the verge of exploding. Like the dam is seconds from breaking. Like he needs me.
I toss my shit on the floor and stand in front of him, waiting. 
“None of this is your fault,” he promises. “None of it. I shouldn’t have treated you like this today, but after last night, I didn’t know how to be around you and them and act like I wasn’t daydreaming about you laying with me all night. I kept picturing you in my lap, kissing me. I wanted it all day. I wanted you. Every time I think I have you, you’re gone.”
I’ve never left him. His brothers are my best friends. Even when Chris is a dickhead, I still love him. I would never want anything but good things for him. 
“I would never leave you guys, Chris.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Chris, we used to be closer than anyone,” I remind him. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how to be your friend anymore in the way we were. You won’t let me be that for you anymore.”
“I do,” he insists. “Please, just hear me out. Don’t go anywhere.”
I let out a sigh at his desperation. Before I know it, he’s leading me to the bed.
“Prom senior year,” he starts. “Your date didn’t show up.”
He promised he wouldn’t mention that again.
“Chris–”
“It was Nate’s idea,” he interrupts me. “He told me to step in, and I finally had the balls to. I was running down the street to the store in a fucking tux. I ran in and got you flowers, and when I came back you were gone. Everyone was gone.”
My heart drops. No one ever told me why he was late to prom that day. No one told me he was making an effort for me. Everything would have been different. 
“You were gonna take me to prom?”
He swallows harshly as he nods, like he’s partly embarrassed for letting me know he failed, but that he’s proud of himself for trying.
“A few weeks later you came running into my room with the biggest smile on your face. You pulled my headset off while I was playing a game and made me guess why you were so giddy. I couldn’t guess, and you told me he asked you to be his girlfriend. The same guy that made you cry because he stood you up at prom, you were now his girlfriend. I felt like fucking shit. I tried to clean up the mess he made that night, and when I failed, he still won you? How was that fair?” he asks me. 
I don’t have any answers for him. 
“Then you spent the whole relationship telling me how awful he was,” he reminds me. “I was obviously going to be there for you if you needed me, but any time we were together, I had to pretend like I wasn’t interested. I had to try to respect your relationship with him, even though I hated him for making you miserable. I hated watching your smile fade and I hated that it was because of him. I did everything I could to cheer you up, and it worked, you know it did, but when you guys broke up, I thought it was my chance. You had no interest in me. It was so obvious. I just lost any hope of there being a chance with us, and the only way for me to get over that was to push you away.”
His words pour out of his mouth in a deep confession. Memories of us come flooding back into me like it was yesterday. Every look he gave me, every touch, every word shared.It’s all there. 
I can’t help but hate my ex even more for keeping Chris from me. 
I’m not mad at Chris anymore, but the frustration coursing through my veins masks my confusion for anger. And I aim it at the wrong person.
“Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“I thought you knew!” he shouts. 
We both stand in silence, staring at each other as our chests heave, trying to regain our composure. 
I shake my head, completely in shock at his confession. I used to cry to Nick, wondering why his brother was so mean to me after everything we shared together. He went from being the most important person to me to someone I barely knew. 
I feel like an idiot for wasting so much time trying to hate him when in reality he was trying to protect me from anything bad in the world. 
He couldn’t help it that he couldn’t catch up.
My face presses to Chris’ chest. I don’t know the moment I flung my arms around him and refused to let go, but the feeling of his heart beating against me brings me peace again, just like it did this morning in bed. 
“I called the hotel,” he says. “I changed the reservation.”
I pull back from his chest, staring up at him.
“If that makes you uncomfortable, and you want to go stay with Nick, I completely understand,” he says. “I didn’t think we were going to kiss. I wasn’t planning on making any moves. I just wanted us to be friends again. I wanted you back in my life in the right way.”
My hands hold his cheeks as my lips desperately search for his. His arms wrap around my back, holding me as close as possible. The kiss is rough, both of us trying to gain dominance. I pull back from him to catch my breath, staring at his glossy eyes. The guilt is written on his face. The secrets he held from me for years. 
“You could never lose me, Chris,” I assure him.
He rolls his lips into his mouth before licking his lips, basking in the taste of us. He nods, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe me. Fear takes over him before any sense of hope can. 
“We’re going to be okay, I promise.”
It was his idea to sit in bed and watch cartoons, and we did just that for the rest of the night. It was my idea to order room service. We laughed in that bed, sharing innocent kisses that were stolen from us over the years. I wasn’t going to let anyone or anything take that from us again.
“Chris?”
“Hmm?” he hums in response, his fingers tracing over my back where it had snaked up his shirt that was hugging my skin, just as it was the night before. 
“We won’t ever be just friends.”
He pauses for a moment before he responds.
“Good.” 
tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilo @draculaura123 @jellybeanbby @bridgetteauria @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @zoieisabella @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @1201pm @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts @sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @ratatioulle @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld
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koishiro · 1 month
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# - 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 📍
masterlist | jjk masterlist | upcoming anon asks
=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : oh my god I’ve been gone for so long TT I’m so sorry (think of this as my comeback >:))
𝐂/𝐖 : implied afab! Reader, implies to anal (I’m not sorry).
a- aftercare, what's their aftercare like?
You best know he’s doing the upmost. After a few minutes of lying in bed (or wherever you happen to end up) he’ll make his way towards your bathroom and returns with a warm wash cloth before picking you up and guiding his way towards the bath he previously filled up as he quickly makes his way behind you, a fluffy towel placed on the heated towel wrack.
He’d let you dose off for a little while before softly waking you up so he can wash your hair and body. Don’t be surprised if you feel a slight poke to your lower back, it’s not his fault he’s got such a pretty little thing sat bare in front of him.
“‘You too tired for another round? What? ‘S not my fault you’re lookin’ all pretty f’me”
b- bodypart, whats their favourite bodypart and yours too? :
Ohohoho, your ass. Or should I say your ass and your hips. They’re just so plush and a guide of sorts as he locks his big hands on them to lead you up and down on his length. Even in mundane moments he just loves to grab onto your hips when he passes behind you or slap your ass every time you bend over to retrieve something. You go to grab the remote off the floor? Slap. You’re unloading laundry from the washing machine? Slap. You’re just minding your own business lying ass up on your bed? You’re just asking for it now.
When it comes to himself though? He’d have to say his thighs or arms/hands. He just loves to see the wet patch you leave behind after grinding yourself on his meaty thighs for only a few minutes. And he nearly goes feral from the way his hands look flat on your plush tummy, sexual or not. But he damn nearly loses his mind when he’s rutting into you and all he’s focused on is your bulging tummy and his hands softly tracing the outline of his throbbing cock.
“Look at you, d’you like the sight of my cock making you look so nice and full?”
c- cum, anything to do with cum :
You’re nearly convinced this man’s cum is never ending. Not only is it never ending but it’s thick as well. And if he’s not cumming inside, you best know you’ll be covered by the time he’s finished with you.
d-dirty secret, what's their dirtiest secret? :
His colleagues and friends wouldn’t count this as a secret considering he won’t exactly stop someone if they found out but he keeps a Polaroid of you in his wallet. Whenever he casually brings it up everyone would coo over how sweet he is until they actually come across said Polaroid only to find you in a very compromising position (with your consent ofc).
Everything on show, spread before him with his thighs either side of yours, one of your hands between your legs as the other leads a bead of his cum on the tip of your finger towards your lips and fucked out drunk eyes staring up at the camera lens. He’s just thoughtful like that, keeping a picture of his girl on him at all times.
Oh and you both also have a photo album specifically kept for nudes that sits on your shelf with the rest of your family albums.
“C’mon pretty, smile all nice now yeah? You never know who’ll stumble across this pretty picture of you. Gotta show ‘em who I’m buried in every night”
e- experience, how many times have they had sex? :
I’m going to be completely honest here, he’s had his fair share of hookups before he met you. But he wouldn’t think twice about them and he’d never even think of bringing them back his place, it would be too awkward waking up and not being able to ditch and forget so he sticks to their place, much easier and less of a mess in the long run.
f- favourite position, whats their favourite positions? :
Now this man will indulge in the occasional doggy style but it can’t beat the good fucking a mating press can provide. It just lets him get so deep and still be so close. I can imagine he’s a sucker for eye contact and this allows him to do just that while spilling the most vile words. And the way your tits bounce? It’s just the perfect position for him, what more could he ask for?
“Look at you taking me well, all dumb and fucked out, looking so pretty while I do all the work”
g- goofy, do they make jokes? :
Now this depends. If he’s had a bad day and he’s all worked up and frustrated, he just needs a good fuck (I say and he means with love, don’t degrade your worth bby) he’ll practically bend you over the nearest surface not thinking twice about the open windows, but by the ends when you’re both panting and heaving, he’ll make a small joke to lighten the mood, “well that was unexpected” or “thanks f’that doll. My own personal stress relief huh”. Other times when he feels more fluffy and sentimental, he’ll include small quips here and there, “who knew younger me would get the pretty girl in class”
h- hair, is he trimmed? does the carpet match the drapes? :
I like to think he’s completely shaved but I honestly think he has a little bit of hair, enough to coat his abdomen with a happy trail (who doesn’t like a happy trail) but mainly it’s trimmed down but still not fully shaved.
i-intimacy, how intimate are they? :
Again, this depends on his mood and/or a special event. If it’s something like your birthday? He’ll be nice and gentle but slowly work his way to being more rough but with sweet sentimental words woven in. If you happen to be in public? He’ll flirt like a teenager and like it’s his first time meeting you again which only leads to you bent over the sink in the public toilets or cramped in a cubicle with a hand over your mouth as he ruts up into you. (I’m getting off topic here). OH AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON BODY WORSHIPPING. You’ll never feel insecure again!-
Even in day-to-day life, he’ll sneak up and hug you from behind before asking how your day was (even if you were only apart for an hour max), he’d often bring home flowers of different kinds and he’d be clued up on the meanings behind them too.
“Look at these plush thighs all f’me, wrapping around my head so nice. An’ look at these tits, always so so sensitive. Love the lil’ dance you do when I so much as flick them”
j- jack off, how often are they jacking off? :
Fairy regular. Not a lot, considering he has you to come home to. So probably an average amount. Whenever he's away though he's jacking off a lot more. (That Polaroid comes in handy).
k- kink, what are their kinks? :
I don’t know if this counts as a kink but it gets him so hard when he has something that reminds him of you on him while gets down and dirty (does that make sense?), like for example he has a bracelet you gave him on his wrist made with so much thought and love while he fists your pretty pussy or when he’s just stood in line for a coffee and he looks down at the nail polish you did on him knowing where his fingers have been. He likes the thought that only he knows where they’ve been like a little secret between you both.
l- location, where would he take you? public person or private? :
Oh 110% he’d fuck you in public, no doubt in my mind. This man is a brat tamer and you can’t not agree with that. You’re acting up in public? He’ll having you whining with his hand buried deep in your pussy under the restaurant’s table. He’s the kind of guy to fuck you with the door slightly cracked open, leaving the slight chance that his roommate could either hear you or catch you in the act (he wouldn’t even stop you know it).
He does have his times though when he feels like being more private and wanting to keep you to himself, likes to take his time with you.
“Gotta be more quiet pretty girl, do’ya want someone to hear you? Whining all slutty? Is that what you want? You’d get off on that wouldn’t ya”
m- motivation, what motivates him? :
He’s a brat tamer and a chaser, strange mix I’m aware. But it just gets him so riled up when you start acting out, in public or not. He won’t think twice before bending you over the nearest surface (preferably his lap) while he makes you count until you’re too dumb to count any further.
There’s also a running theme in your relationship that keeps him wanting more. Before you were even in a relationship you’d always make it seem like you weren’t too interested in him but you’d leave hints for him to figure out so even now, in a long term relationship, you’ll both still play cat and mouse leaving his brain to haywire.
n- no, what wouldn't they do? :
Consent is a big, big thing in your relationship. He won’t do anything unless you verbally agree to it. You both even have a safe word for when things turn serious. Watersports and scat are both out the window because that’s just disgusting.
“C’mon pretty girl, use your words. Can you do that f’me? Can you use your words?”
o- oral, giving or receiving? :
This one’s a 50/50. As much as I want to say he’s a giver, I have to remind myself he’s also a brat tamer so the urge he has to just shove your head down on his girthy cock to shut you up is immense at times. But he also gets off on being covered in your cum. You could be doing the most mundane thing like catching up on your favourite tv show and he’s between your thighs lapping your essence up like it’s holy water (and boy does he need a lot of that). He’d even let you take a picture if that’s what you really want (yes please).
p- pace, how fast do they go? slow, fast? :
He’d purposefully put you in a false sense of security. Starting off slow and deep and gradually increasing faster and rougher. He’ll tease you by going slow and when you're both chasing your orgasm he starts to go faster. His words would follow as well, starting off sweet and sentimental and gradually turning dirtier and meaner.
q- quickies, are they a fan? :
Now, like I said before, this man loves public sex but that doesn’t mean he’s a big fan of quickies when doing so. Makes him feel like he’s using you sometimes and he certainly doesn’t want to make you feel like that. So he makes it up to you by going long and hard in the comfort of your own home. But sometimes it’s unavoidable, especially when he needs to leave in 15 minutes but how can he when you’ve just gotten out of the shower looking like that? And you know what you’re doing to him so of course he has to teach you a lesson right?
“Look what you’re doing t’me. Gonna make me late now cause of you acting up. What am I gonna say to the guys hm? That I had to fuck the attitude out of my girl? Is that what you want?”
r- risk, are they a risk taker? :
He'd never put you in harms way. So he wouldn't be one to take risks that could put you in danger or get you hurt somehow (like knife play etc). but he will fuck you somewhere you both could get caught. That’s just a given.
s- stamina, can they go for multiple rounds? :
Oh boy can he. In the end he has to hold you up by the hips while he continues to rut into you. He even keeps a glass of water to the side for you in moments like these. (Here’s your daily reminder to go drink some fckn water bby)
t- toys, do they experiment with toys? :
Hehe >:) you could say that yes. He once invested in vibrating panties he had you wear in public while you both walked around the mall hand in hand, it was in your best interest not to talk back to him that day. He also occasionally indulges in vibrators, bondage, butt plugs, analog beads (you get the gist). But he won’t be too pleased in toys for himself like cock rings.
But nothing can beat the feeling of his cock fucking you raw with nothing in the way, although he has sometimes double penetrated you with his cock and another toy.
u- unfair, how much will he tease you? :
He'll tease you for a good while, you'll be a whimpering and begging mess before he's even put it in you. Especially when toys are involved. He loves to see writhing and wriggling beneath him.
v- volume/verbal, are they loud? :
He's not so much as ‘loud’ but more reassuring and teasing in his words, making sure you’re comfortable the entire time. He also makes sure you know that you’re making him feel good too. Don’t get me wrong though, he groans and grunts for sure, both your moans and whimpers fill the silence in the room for sure.
“You okay baby? You holdin’ on? You’re doing so well, keep whining like that pretty. Got me acting some type’a way”
w- where does he prefer to cum? :
He loves to cum inside of you let him. Goes feral at the thought of knocking you up and watching his cum seep out of your puffy pussy before he fingers it back where it belongs. But at times where he’s not allowed, he loves to cover you in it (we all know this man cums a lot so be warned).
“I didn’t think you could possibly get any prettier, but look at you all covered in my cum. Let me take a picture so you can see for yourself”
x-ray, whats going on under those clothes? :
He’s 190cm (6’3) so I imagine him to be big. maybe like, 6.9 (😏) flacid, 7.2 hard. I also imagine him to be fairly thick but not too thick y’know? Maybe like the thickness of his own wrist (that’s probably not too good of an example but here we are). He also has a vein running across his shaft as he curves upwards. He’s not even really aware of his length either. He often thinks back to when you first saw his cock and he was slightly confused at your worried expression. Like what bae? Why so worried, I’ll make it fit.
y- yearning, what’s their sex drive like? :
I’d say Geto has an average sex drive. Not like a teenage boy where he was horny 25/8 but you both still fuck at least 3 times a day no ifs or buts, any time anywhere. Gotta close your fitness ring somehow. And you know when he’s in the mood cause he’ll snake his arms around you before they creep their way towards your tits, soon pawing at the flesh.
INTRUSIVE SIDE NOTE: Does anyone remember that post a while back where this girl had sex with her boyfriend and her parents had a notification from their watches saying they closed their fitness ring after an intensive workout? Yeah that’s you and Geto. That’s had to have happened at least once. No doubt in my mind.
z- zzz :
Geto will not sleep until you're cleaned, hair is washed and brushed out of your face, you’ve drank a full cup of water, skin care outta the way (ofc he memorised it who do you think he is) literally every single need you have has to be met will he then sleep. Once you both do eventually sleep, he has you tucked to his side or directly on top of his chest. He does often hug you from behind though, only so he can grope your tit and fall asleep in that exact position.
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jyoongim · 3 months
Note
Hi there,
OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING!
If requests are still open I was thinking of an idea. I was kinda inspired by the scene in Hazbin Hotel where Val is squinting at the tv and saying “who the f$&@ is that?”
But my idea is instead it’s Vox seeing Alastor escorting the reader around town, having coffee etc. so Vox sees an opportunity to get to Alastor by abducting the reader and broadcasting it to the hotel that they have her/him. Of course Al gets pissed seeing then hurt the reader and saves them.
Doesn’t have to be romantic, maybe more that Alastor considers then a rare friend and is very protective.
Anyway, let me know what you think.
Thank you!!
warnings: fem!reader kidnapping, attempted SA, Vox being a piece of shit, platonic friendship
“WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?” Vox growled as he stared at his many monitors.
 What had caught his eye was that fucker Alastor.
But oh the red demon wasn’t alone, no, hanging on the arm of the Radio Demon was a pretty doe.
You smiled as you chatted to the demon, eyes sparkling before pouting at whatever he had told you.
You leaned your head on his shoulder happily as the two of you walked down the street. 
Valentino took a puff from his cigar, smirking ”Ooh ooo seems like Alastor got himself a pretty lady while he was gone”
Vox had caught sight of you multiple times. Ever since Alastor came back, you were always by Alastor’s side, not once had he seen you alone.
He watched as Alastor took you to multiple places; cafes, shopping, showing you around Pentagram City.
You must have been something real special if the Radio Demon kept you around.
It would be ashamed if Alastor’s little pet went missing now wouldn’t it……
You groaned as you came to. You blinked,  clearing the haze from your sight as you gathered your senses.
You went to move, but found yourself bound and gagged. 
Your eyes widened how the fuck did this happen?
The last thing you remembered was leaving the hotel to buy a few things and being grabbed from behind.
You shivered. Looking down, you saw that you were dressed in rather provocative clothing. You looked around, there were cameras, monitors, and horny demons in the room all set on you.
You started to hyperventilate as tears welled in your eyes, where were you? 
“Aaahh there she is” a voice purred, a cold hand grabbed your chin,making you come face to face with Vox.
Your tears dried up immediately as your brow quirked at him
”now you might be confused dear but don’t fret, I’m not gonna hurt you too bad. Just need to get my point across. How will Alastor feel seeing his little pet ruined” he chuckled darkly.
You growled at him through the gag. 
He sat on a chair and grinned into the monitor
”This is a message to that old timer prick!” The monitor flashed your bound body, wriggling around as multiple demons started the touch you.
”I’ve got your pretty pet, oh don’t worry Ill send her back to you…but i fear she wont be quite the same” Vox laughed.
Charlie and the gang watched in shocked. Why the hell would Vox take you?
A dark aura filled the room as static buzzed loudly. 
“Well it seems I am needed elsewhere” the red demon grinned, smile tense and menacing.
Alastor disappeared in the depths of his shadows.
You panted as you were surrounded by demons. Your face was bruised and blood dripped from your mouth from being striked.
Your gag had been removed by a demon attempting to use your mouth and you had chomped his dick off, resulting in a harsh slap.
”I say we fuck her til she bleeds or even better dead” a demon growled.
You hissed and before one could make a grab at you, the lights blinked.
Dark misty shadows filled the room and you smiled as a voice growled from them.
”Now thats no way to treat a lady”
Alastor.
The demons tried to rush him, but his tentacles shot out and ripped every single one of them apart.
He stalked towards Vox and you had never seen Alastor so enraged.
He had the monitor glitching as he beat him to a pulp.
He powered him down and made his way over to you.
Taking you into his arms, he cooed to you “Oooh my dear I do apologize for the horrid display, i hope you were too uncomfortable”
He materialized your clothing to be more conservative and walked you out of the Vs’ building. 
“Thank you Al” you whispered burying your face in his chest
He chuckled “Ooh anything for you my dear”
Let’s just say, Alastor accompanied you anywhere you went after that.
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dxxdhood · 4 months
Text
wait for me
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pairing: waiter!dick grayson x gn!reader
summary: after getting stood up on a date, you notice the waiter who's been patiently watching you all evening.
tags: smut (18+), sub!dick grayson, dom!reader, teasing, dirty talk, humiliation, name-calling, slapping, handjob
wc: 1.9k
a/n: hey, hope you guys like this one! if anyone has any requests/thoughts, please send them in. i want to write more, but i really struggle with ideas haha
It’s not that bad, all things considered. You must have the intuition of a god for choosing a restaurant that allows free refills, because if you’ve had to pay for drinks this whole night, you’d have gone completely broke. Still, you can’t help feeling pretty shitty. There’s no way your date is running two hours late.
The place is a casual diner, serving a host of soups, sandwiches, and pastries that had you salivating earlier on in the night, but right now, you’re not exactly in the mood to browse the menu again. The diner doesn’t close until twelve, but it’s been almost deserted for the past hour, probably because it’s a weeknight and the average person has plenty better to do than wait on a person who’s made it obvious they’re not coming
Just as you’re about to get up and leave – for real this time – the waiter comes around to refill your drink. It’s a quarter till twelve, and at this point you know he probably wants to start cleaning up, but still he tops up your drink without saying anything. It’s a kindness, but a part of you just wishes he would kick you out already.
He’s been the only waiter on staff since you got here – even the manager knew this place would be empty – and you’re so glad he was, because if you ever want to show your face here again, all you have to do is avoid one person. It’s a shame that you feel too embarrassed to interact with him, though. He’s been nothing but polite, only asking if you were ready to order at the very beginning before quickly picking up on the fact that you were waiting on your date– the one that wasn’t coming.
You take a sip from your full drink, but you can’t stomach any more. Standing up, you try to avoid eye contact with the waiter, who’s relaxing behind the counter, as you step towards the exit. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of your head, like you’ve skipped a step or forgotten an important task. It dawns on you as you’re facing the exit: you forgot to tip him!
Well, you didn’t order a meal and you paid for your drink up front, so you’re not exactly sure if you were meant to tip him. Hell, you didn’t know if this restaurant accepted tips at all. But this waiter just watched you sit through quiet torture and the second-hand embarrassment was probably like stepping on glass.
“Hey,” you turn around. “Do I… Should I tip you?”
“Yeah, I was wondering that, too,” he says lightly. He purses his lips and stares to the side, “I’ve turned it over a few times in my head, and decided that nope! You don’t need to tip me. You have no lawful or moral obligation, I resolve you.”
You feel your eyes getting watery, so you focus on the dust in the crease between the wall and the floor. Him saying that only makes you feel worse, but it’d be too awkward to hand him the money now. It feels like there should be something you could do, some way you could thank him for keeping you company.
“How many people are staffed right now?” you ask.
He looks caught off guard, like he expected the interaction to end there. “Oh, just me and one other guy in the kitchen.”
“Let me help you close.”
His eyes widen, and you try to meet his gaze. He’s puzzled, probably trying to figure out what you get out of helping him. Eventually, he shrugs his shoulders and gets up from behind the counter.
“Yeah, why not,” he says with a fond smirk, gesturing to you to follow him. 
He leads you to the supply closet, where the two of you grab cleaning spray, rags, and a broom. While you work on wiping down the tables and chairs, he counts the cash in the register.
“So, you always offer to clean up after yourself?” he starts, too focused on tallying up the earnings to notice you staring at him. The waiter, “Dick” according to his name tag, is very cute. You were trying to ignore him the best you could for the sake of your would-be date, but honestly, fuck that guy. Your waiter with the dashing smile and ruffled hair blows him out of the water, anyway.
“Just feeling extra polite tonight. You always accept help from customers?”
“You won’t believe this, but nobody’s offered,” he says with a snort. “Still, probably not the smartest idea on my part.”
You think about his words for a second as you wipe down a particularly stubborn stain. “I wouldn’t be able to rob you if I wanted to.”
It’s true, he looked well-muscled, even if on the leaner side. His eyes are playful as he narrows them at you. “Careful, they take security footage of this place, don't confess to any thoughts you may or may not have.”
You laugh, going back to cleaning before you start again. “Can’t believe you put off closing the diner just so you could watch me get stood up for an extra however many minutes.”
“Counterpoint: Can’t believe you let yourself get stood up for so long.” Dick finishes up at the register and grabs the broom. “You’re worth more than that.”
“Oh? And how do you know what I’m worth?” you say instinctively. 
You watch his eyes widen from your peripheral vision, like he didn’t mean to say his last comment out loud. “I wasn’t trying to overstep, but, like, obviously you’re attractive. You could get anyone you wanted and–”
“You’ve been watching me all night, haven't you?” Filled with newfound confidence, you leave your rag and spray bottle and walk over to where Dick is sweeping the entrance. 
Despite how friendly he’s been tonight, he deliberately avoids eye contact as he works. “Well, yeah, I needed to make sure you got your order once – if – you placed one–”
“No, no. I mean you were watching me,” you place a hand on his shoulder. “What, you wish you were the one I was going on a date with?”
And though you know you’re jumping to conclusions, he stiffens at your words and it’s clear you’ve caught him.
“I… I didn’t want to bother–” Dick starts, dropping the broom. You use the opening to push him against the wall, hearing the scratches of the brick against his button up shirt.
“That’s alright,” you whisper. “I don’t mind being bothered.”
You can feel his chest rise and fall as you press yourself closer to him. His eyes follow your every move, and you bring your face closer until it's only inches away from his. 
You can feel the puffs of his inhales and exhales on your skin, and you’re about to completely close the gap between you two, but Dick beats you to it. He kisses you, and you pull back for a moment in surprise before sinking into the kiss.
His lips are so warm, and as he brings up a hand to pull you closer by the jaw, you notice how surprisingly soft his hands are. You try to deepen the kiss, nipping his lip in the process, and he lets out a gasp. Biting at his lip a little more, he giggles as he realizes you’re playing with him.
“You’re starting to bother me,” he quips, trying to keep his composure as you nip at the underside of his jaw. Just when he starts getting comfortable and relaxing into your kisses, you switch to biting at him, and he jolts.
“Maybe you deserve it. You need to learn better manners, sitting there, watching me all night. Bet you wish I would’ve shoved you against this wall a whole lot sooner, huh?” you whisper into his ear before going back to kissing down his neck. He moans at your words, but tries to muffle himself by pushing his face into his shoulder. You bring a hand up to his hair and tug to get him to pay attention to you.
“Right in front of everyone, too,” you continue, sliding a hand down his stomach to work on his jeans. “Just mark you, make you moan like a bitch while everyone else is watching.”
Biting his lip, Dick tries to ignore the effect your words have on him, but he’s still rutting against your hand as you’re unzipping him. He gives a small thrust against the air, whimpering as you wrap your hand around his cock.
“Shit, this all for me?” you breathe. You swear Dick can hear you smirk, even as he pinches his eyes shut.
“Don’t– Ah!” he gets cut off as you start stroking him slowly. “Don’t let– let it go to your head.”
“No, I think I’ll be just fine,” you quicken your pace, not giving him a second to get ready. “If I remember right, some slut thinks he’s hot enough to get me to fuck him just by, what, batting his eyes at me? From all the way across the diner?”
“Well–” He groans, arching his back against the wall. The sweat shines against his cheeks, you feel so lucky to be the cause of it. “Well I was right, wasn’t I?”
You chuckle, caught off guard. “Guess you are.”
You briefly remove your hand, and Dick grunts, irritated, before you spit in it and go back to forcefully jerking him off. His moans grow louder, and you can see him start to get lost, eyes growing distant while chasing his orgasm.
“Are you going to come already?” you say, slowing your pace to be more deliberate, but still keeping the pressure the same. After a moment of silence, you slap his balls and he lets out a yelp that melts into a groan. 
“Answer me!” you shout, bringing your hand back up to pull at his hair.
“Ah– Yeah, y-yes!” he gasps. “You’re going to make me cum!”
“Good,” you say before you bite at his neck again, sucking a spot right under his jugular. The skin starts to deepen and you lick, tending to it before you nip at it again, just biting hard enough to draw a pinprick of blood. 
Dick screams as he cums, thrusting into your fist at an uncontrolled pace. You work him through it, matching his speed until he falls back against the wall, spent. As he slides down the wall until he sits on the ground, you walk back to one of the chairs.
“Damn, not ready for round two?” you say, propping up your head on the top rail. He huffs through his nose, looking at you for a moment like he’s checking to see if you’re real. He seems to find what he’s looking for, giggling and resting his head on his knees. 
“Oh my god, Dick, stop it. We need to go!” A tall, built man walks out of the kitchen, “Jason” according to his name tag. Looking sheepish, Dick is ready to defend himself, but Jason walks towards him, ignoring every word coming out of Dick’s mouth. 
Dick hands you a napkin, gesturing a phone and mouthing the words “call me” as he’s dragged out of the building by Jason. In shock, you open up the napkin to find his name and his number hastily scribbled in ballpoint pen. Smirking to yourself, you only wish you knew how early on in the night Dick prepared this napkin for you. You could’ve saved the both of you two hours of waiting.
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solarmorrigan · 1 year
Text
Steve is always the first to fall asleep.
The first time Eddie had insisted Steve stay the night, he and Eddie had stayed up late watching a movie and Steve had looked like he was about to pass out. Eddie wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if Steve had fallen asleep at the wheel on his way home, so he’d told Steve to just stay. Then he’d gotten up to brush his teeth and had come back to find Steve already zonked out on the couch. From that very first time, Steve has always fallen asleep before Eddie.
When their movie nights run long, Steve starts nodding off against the back of the couch, and then later against Eddie’s shoulder. On nights when being alone just doesn’t feel like an option, when occupying the same bed just seems like the most practical solution, it’s always Steve whose eyes slip closed first, who starts up that whistling little snore that he vehemently denies when he’s awake. Later, Eddie finds out that Steve will fall asleep even faster with Eddie all wrapped up around him, arm tight around Steve’s waist.
Once, when they head out to the lake to smoke in the back of Eddie’s van, doors thrown open to let in the clear night, Steve falls asleep half on the mess of blankets Eddie had thrown down as cushioning, and half on top of Eddie. Eddie himself doesn’t really sleep that night; it isn’t safe for them to both fall asleep – not out here, not like this, but Steve looks so fucking exhausted that Eddie doesn’t really want to wake him. Steve drives them home in the morning, and Eddie catches a nap then.
The only exception, really, is on the nights when Eddie has nightmares, when Eddie is feeling jumpy, when Eddie can’t help but look at every fluttering shadow as a threat. Then, Steve will sit up against the pillows and pull Eddie back against him and promise to keep watch; and with Steve solid and steadfast at his back, Eddie can’t help but fall asleep.
At least, Eddie had assumed that was the only exception.
D&D runs long one night—the kids’ parents don’t seem to mind their staying out late as long as they know they’re all at Steve’s house, and Eddie will never let him live down his popularity with the suburban moms, considering how many parties he’d thrown during his high school years—and they agree that it would be easier to simply crash at Steve’s for the night than it would be to go dropping everyone off at home at goddamn midnight.
They pop a movie in and set up around the living room with blankets and pillows raided from closets and spare rooms. The boys are relegated to the floor while El and Max cohabitate in the easy chair. Erica stretches out on the couch, but since she’s short and the couch is enormous, it’s easy for Eddie and Steve to curl up together at the other end.
“You gonna make it to the end of the movie?” Eddie teases, even while draping Steve’s arm over his shoulder like it’s his favorite blanket.
From the floor, Dustin snorts. “Are you kidding? Steve never falls asleep first.”
“I think I’ve only seen him sleep once, but that might’ve been a trick of the light,” Will adds, and Lucas snickers.
Eddie turns to glance at Steve, because what the kids are saying is patently untrue, but Steve only raises his eyebrows at Eddie. “I think I’ll be fine,” he says, and turns back to the screen.
And, in fact, by the end of the movie, nearly everyone else has dropped off, but Steve is still perfectly alert. Even Eddie, who at some point ended up mostly horizontal, with his legs parallel to Erica’s and his torso in Steve’s lap, is starting to nod off. He wants to ask Steve if there’s anything wrong, ask why he hasn’t gone all sleepy and soft at Eddie’s side like he always does, but then Steve’s fingers work their way into Eddie’s hair and Eddie’s out like a light.
They’re woken in the morning by the sound of teenagers trying to be quiet in the kitchen, and it’s like nothing at all out of the ordinary has happened, but Eddie’s curiosity is piqued now, so he starts paying attention.
Any time the kids are with them for the night, any of the kids at any of their houses, Steve stays awake. He stays up while everyone else falls asleep around him, while even Eddie falls asleep, and Eddie realizes – he’s keeping watch. He’s looking out for threats while everyone else is vulnerable.
But he almost never seems to worry about staying awake when it’s just him and Eddie.
Eddie tries to puzzle it out. He spends half an hour or so potentially offended that Steve apparently cares what happens to the kids but not to Eddie, but he knows that isn’t it. Steve is always awake when Eddie needs him to be – and what’s more, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Steve sleep more soundly than when he’s curled up against Eddie, circled by his arms.
It’s not that Steve doesn’t care at all, it’s that he trusts Eddie. He trusts Eddie more than anyone.
This is a mind-blowing revelation, somehow. Eddie has no idea what he’s done to earn it, but he knows immediately that he’s going to do his damndest to keep it.
The next time they end up in sleepover formation, it’s in the Wheeler’s basement. They’re all crunched up on chairs and the old sofa, though the braver party members (or at least those more inured to the stains on the carpet) have decided to take their chances with the floor.
It’s been a bad week; one of the few nights Steve had decided to simply head home to sleep after a late shift instead of coming over to Eddie’s had been a nasty, blustery night, and the power in Loch Nora had flickered, and flickered, and then gone out entirely.
Steve, the idiot, had stuck it out the whole night, but Eddie doubts he’d slept. And he hasn’t slept right since, twitching at every noise and shifting restlessly against whatever his dreams were assaulting him with. For once, Eddie had actually been the safer option as carpool driver; Steve has looked ready to drop all night.
Now, Eddie looks up at him from his spot on the floor, where he’s been leaning against Steve’s chair, half asleep against his legs and resting his head on Steve’s knee. He can see Steve’s eyes start to droop closed, his breathing going slower, deeper, and then, almost as if shocked, Steve sits up again, blinking and shaking his head, searching the room for danger that isn’t there. It makes Eddie’s chest hurt.
Quietly, he stands up off the floor, patting Steve on the hip.
“Up,” Eddie orders, and, sleep-deprived and half on autopilot, Steve obeys.
He watches in confusion as Eddie pulls over a milk crate full of old magazines and then sits down in the chair Steve has just vacated. He scoots back as far as he can and spreads his legs to make room for Steve in front of him.
“Lean back,” Eddie says softly, once he’s tugged Steve down into the chair, then gestures at the crate. “Put your feet up.”
“Eddie...” Steve protests, barely more than a mumble as he practically melts into Eddie, hands coming up to cover the ones that are clasped over his waist.
“Shh. I’ve got them. I’ll keep watch.” Eddie presses a kiss to Steve’s temple, murmuring into his ear, “Get some rest.”
And, miraculously, Steve does.
Eddie doesn’t sleep a wink that night, and the position he’s resigned himself to is deeply uncomfortable, but for the grateful look Steve sends him in the morning, for the renewed light in his eyes, Eddie figures it’s worth it.
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repulsiveliquidation · 4 months
Text
If I have to ask, I don’t want it.
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Alexia Putellas x Reader [ANGST.]
Years into married life, Alexia gets bored of you. Based on a quote from Frida Kahlo.
//
I’m not asking you to kiss me, nor apologize to me when I think you’re wrong.
“Where the hell were you?” you ask Alexia, confronting her after she walks into the house way past midnight. It’s four hours past she promised to be home, having gone out with the girls for a drink after training. You were home all day waiting for her but she sounded like she needed some time to relax after being cooped up at home from her surgery so you told her to have fun and sorted yourself out. She had promised to only be an hour or two, but it turned into six hours without even a phone call or text.
“Don’t start with me, I’m not in the fucking mood for one of your lectures,” she growls, throwing her bag down and walking into the house without even a glance at you. Your eyes fill with tears, hands clenched into tight fists by your side as she slams the bedroom door behind her.
You follow her, tears flowing down your face. She’s in the bathroom brushing her teeth, rolling her eyes when she sees your crying state in the doorway.
“What does that mean?” you ask her, arms crossed before wiping away your tears.
“I wanted to drink, it’s none of your business what I do.”
“You promised me you’d be home by 8.”
“I’d rather be out with them than stuck at home with you.”
//
I won’t even ask you to hug me when I need it most.
Tears rolled down your cheeks when the doctors told you you couldn’t have children. Your heart shattered into a million pieces when he uttered those words to you and your wife. Alexia looked almost distant, you figured that she was simply devastated by the news and didn’t know how to process it. The moment you got home though, she had lots to say.
“You’re telling me you didn’t fucking know?” she yelled the moment the front door closed.
“Ale, I’ve never had problems before! I-”
“Save it. You know I wanted to start a family and now you fuck things up.”
“Ale, I’m sorry…I’m so so sorry,” you tell her, moving closer to her. you reach out for her hand but she flinches away.
“Save your apologies for someone who cares.”
//
I don’t ask you to tell me how beautiful I am, even if it’s a lie, nor write me anything beautiful.
You’re at an award ceremony with Alexia, she’s sat at the table chatting away with Aitana while you are backstage waiting to receive an award. The beige dress you had on matched Alexia’s suit, there were many compliments hurled your way the entire night. One person hadn’t said anything to you yet, not one compliment from the person that mattered the most to you. Even if you knew that you didn’t come close to being hers.
“She looks stunning in that dress, doesn’t she?” Aitana compliments you as you walk out on stage. Alexia is on her phone, texting someone who’s clearly more interesting than her wife receiving an award on stage.
Aitana slaps her arm, getting more and more annoyed at her friend.
“What?” Alexia says angrily, Aitana just rolls her eyes.
“Alexia. She’s looking at you.”
Alexia looks up at the stage just in time to hear you thanking her for being her beautiful wife and for sticking with her through all the rough patches throughout your career. She forced a smile, knowing that there was surely a camera on her.
You know her well, and that itself hurts because it’s when you walk off stage and you see her smiling at her phone that you know you’ve lost her.
//
I won't even ask you to call me to tell me how your day went, nor tell me you miss me.
Three days. It’s been three days since you last heard from Alexia. You were both on international duty, the England camp was going smoothly when Sarina called for a quick break. You sit beside Leah and go on your phone, hoping to see if Alexia has texted you. Nothing. Your shoulders slump a little and your best friend notices, a look of concern across her face.
“What’s up?” Leah asks, genuinely curious.
“Nothing, it’s,” you contemplate telling her. telling her that you know Alexia is seeing someone else. Loving someone else. Kissing someone else. Fucking someone else. But you hold your tongue. You force a smile like you’ve seen Alexia do in front of you lately, hoping it’s enough to convince your best friend. She doesn’t buy it but knows not to pry, especially when she can see that you’re hurting.
“It’s nothing.”
//
I won’t ask you to thank me for everything I do for you, nor care about me when my soul is down.
“Dinner’s on the table,” you tell Alexia as she walks into the kitchen. You look up to see her all dressed and ready to go out, your expression changes to one of sadness.
“You go ahead,” she says, grabbing her car keys. “I’m meeting someone for dinner.”
“Is it the woman you’re always texting?” you ask quietly, back turned to her. You were a coward, your mind told you; you couldn’t even bear to see the expression of pure surprise on her face that quickly turned into one that was serious.
“I am texting no one,” the front door opens, “Don’t stay up.”
//
I won’t ask you to support me in my decisions.
Having requested to be loaned for the rest of the season, you were excited to see what clubs would want to have you for a while. Arsenal had always been interested in you, having played alongside Leah in the academy when you were younger. So when their legal team got into negotiations with Barça, you immediately agreed.
Things at home hadn’t at all improved, you figured that some time apart would be good for you both.
“Can I speak with you for a second?” you sheepishly ask Alexia who was sitting in the living room on her laptop working away.
She doesn’t even look up at you, nodding her head for you to continue.
“I’m moving to Arsenal for the rest of the season.”
“Why?” she asks with a sharp tone, eyes narrowing in an accusatory fashion.
“They don’t need me here at Barça, besides, it’s not like you need me either.”
“So your solution when we’re having issues is to run away to England? You’ve always thought about yourself and not the team.”
“Don’t you dare say that, I have given this team my everything.”
“And yet here you are, throwing it away because you’re mad at me!”
“Who the hell says I’m doing this for you?” she looks taken aback when you raise your voice. You rarely did, and it takes her by surprise.
“I am doing this for us. You can’t even LOOK at me without looking like you’re disgusted by me. I am going, whether you fucking approve or not.”
//
I won’t even ask you to listen to me when I have a thousand stories to tell you.
“She’s having the time of her life there! Did you see that goal she scored over the weekend, that’s goal of the year material no?” Patri talks to Lucy and Ona about you, the girls missing you, and having spent the weekend bonding and watching your game against Watford.
“Sí, it was perfect. She is thriving at Arsenal, but I hope they give her back!” Ona says with a light chuckle, leaning into Lucy’s side in the locker room after training.
Alexia walks in, Patri yelling at her to join in on the conversation. It was her wife they were talking about anyway.
“Did you talk to your wife at all today? She called me last night and said that she misses you.” Lucy tells her, watching the captain sit in her cubby and undo her shoes. Alexia shakes her head, immediately getting on her phone.
“No, I didn’t have time last night. I’ll text her.”
“What could you possibly be doing except sulking when she’s not at home? You didn’t have a drink with us either, quite frankly you seemed eager to leave after watching the game yesterday.”
“What I do or where I go is none of your fucking business,” Alexia stands and walks across the room to them. She shakes with rage, eyes filled with pure anger at the insinuation of her being unfaithful. She was, but the thought of her friends finding out that she was doing this to you ate at her. You were perfect in their eyes, the person who would be there for anyone, no matter what. And there she was, being the very thing she promised never to do to you the day you got married.
//
I won’t ask you to do anything, not even be my side forever.
Divorce. That was where your marriage was headed. As you sat in your lawyer's office drawing up the documents, you were devastated. Pictures of Alexia with another woman surfaced just before you got home for Christmas. The plane ride was the worst 2 hours of your life. Alexia and you were through. She hadn’t loved you for a very long time but you had tried so hard to ignore it and convince yourself that it wasn’t true. Those pictures were a slap to your face.
She looked happy with her.
She looked content with her.
She looked in love.
You set the papers in front of her at lunch with the girls. They sat in silence as she read the stack, slowly realizing what you had just handed to her. She tried to get you to take them back and work things out but you firmly held your own.
You knew your worth.
You didn’t need her anymore.
You didn’t need to ask for her love ever again.
Because if I have to ask you, I don’t want it anymore.
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leqonsluv3r · 21 days
Note
hello! i was just wondering if you could write fluffy hc’s or a one-shot about oc / reader telling re4 leon about getting creeped on in public and him being comforting / however else you think he’d react. it’s something i’ve experienced multiple times and ig i’m just looking for some comfort after a recent encounter. i hope you’re having a great day n i appreciate your writing a lot <3
safe with me
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—re!4 leon kennedy x reader, a headcanon list
masterlist taglist
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leon!kennedy who has been dating you for a couple years and is very protective of you. it’s very normal considering his job. but the second you tell him that your always being watched in public, he gets even more protective like a guard dog.
leon!kennedy who accompanies you out in public because of how much he feels the need to protect you. he’s watching over his shoulder and standing less then five feet from you everytime you go out with him. kind of like a guard dog, but a less overbearing one. bite now and ask questions later.
leon!kennedy who drives you to and from work even on his days off, just so you don’t have to walk from your shared apartment to your job down the street. you could easily walk it, but considering that your getting creeped on in public, leon is protecting you and it makes sense.
leon!kennedy who buys you pepper spray and a taser, teaching you how to use them. it’s just incase, just for emergencies and he hopes you never have to use them. but if he’s gone on a mission, he gave you those things to protect you when he can’t.
leon!kennedy who practically smothers you in kisses when your upset and uncomfortable with the way people (more specifically other men) creep on you in public, catcall you. he knows how uncomfortable that makes you feel. trying his best to soothe the ache somehow.
leon!kennedy who about tears someone a new asshole for even looking at you at the grocery store, five seconds then what’s considered normal. yelling at him and practically dragging the poor man out of the store by his collar like a rabid dog.
leon!kennedy who handles you with such care and such precision that he’s afraid he’ll break you. he knows how tough it is for any person in this world, how unsafe it is. his job and you constantly getting peeped on in public just proves that. he holds you close at night, cuddles and kisses. he keeps you close, his biggest fear besides dying is losing you. it would simply be just unbearable without you.
leon!kennedy who makes sure your comfortable whenever you guys have sex, never pressuring you. he needs you to know he’s not like other guys, not like other people. so he’s soft and gentle until you tell him otherwise.
leon!kennedy who lets you squeeze his hand when you two go out in public, one squeeze for your fine and two squeezes for your uncomfortable. or someone’s peeping at you, looking at you in a way that makes your skin crawl.
leon!kennedy who lets you share your location with him just so he has an idea of where you’re at incase of an emergency. he’s not being overbearing, he just needs to know your safe, and you don’t object to that in the slightest.
leon!kennedy who sandwiches himself in between you and a guy at the bar who keeps eyeing you, like your a piece of meat. like your not a human person with feelings. he just rests a hand on your lower back and rubs soothing circles to ease the obvious tension in your face and body.
leon!kennedy who practically punches the guy for flirting with you and making you uncomfortable right in front of him. the stranger is oblivious to the fact that you are so obviously there with leon. it makes his blood boil, your back tenses underneath his touch on your lower back.
leon!kennedy who punches the guy in the face, “i bet your fun and easy in bed.” one of the many disgusting things said but leon takes care of it for you, punching him without hesitation as the man falls back off the stool and lands on the floor of the bar. those words are all it took for leon to take the punch, take him out. because your not a piece of meat, your a person. a person that he loves and would do anything for.
leon!kennedy who drives you home to your guys shared apartment and holds your hand on the console, comforting you and making sure that you were okay. because no one deserves to be treated like that, especially you.
leon!kennedy who ices his knuckles with a bag of peas from the freezer when you guys get home. letting you just cuddle up next to him on the couch. he holds you with his uninjured hand and presses a kiss to your head, “it’ll be alright, it’s okay.” and “i’ll protect you.”
leon!kennedy who vows to himself and to you that he will always do right by you, even if he makes some questionable choices in doing it. as long as your safe and with him, that’s all that matters. he loves you more then anything and people should know that he doesn’t like the people he loves being messed with. especially you.
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an: im sorry this took me so long, anon. i’ve been backed up with requests (and i still am 😭) but i live for the protective boyfriend. i just imagine leon being like a protective guard dog considering all the shit he has to deal with. but i hope this met ur expectations <33 anyways, i love you all. thank you for getting me to 700 again :,) u guys are bizarre for that. pls reblog, like and follow if you enjoy. kisses, xx.
taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl (my taglist is linked above at the beginning if you would like to join <33)
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elisespage · 20 days
Note
Something fluff about Kylian having a newborn baby 🥺
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in which kylian experiences life as a father to a newborn baby.
+
the front door slammed shut and you winced at how loud it was, eyes darting to the crib to see if your daughter had woke up.
kylian creeped into the room and your finger touched your lips, silently asking him to be quiet. “she’s just gone down about five minutes ago.”
he looked down at his daughter and smiled. she looked so peaceful just lay there, her tiny hands clutching the air. “i brought us dinner.”
even though you knew you looked like a mess, kylian didn’t mind and he pulled you out of bed, dragging you towards the dining room.
there were baby monitors in every room of the house, something kylian had made sure you had to make sure the baby was okay wherever he went.
as kylian plated dinner up, you picked at your nails with a disgusted look. how could you let them get this bad?
kylian noticed the way you had been looking at yourself lately and because he had the day off work tomorrow, he wanted to do something for you.
“why don’t you go out tomorrow and relax? i’ll stay with the baby and you can ask your sister to go.”
it was stupid really how relieved you were. you’d took five months off work to care for your daughter, but you’d somehow forgotten about yourself during the process.
“will you be okay on your own?”
“y/n, i’m a grown man. i’ve got to learn too, you know?”
+
“there’s some baby milk in the fridge and she might need a bath. are you sure you’ll be fine?”
he rolled his eyes, not out of annoyance but because he wanted you to go and have a nice time. “stop worrying. i’ll ring if anything happens. now go, have fun!”
you kissed him on the lips, kissing your daughter on the head as well before leaving the house, meeting your sister outside.
“looks like it’s just us, bug,” kylian said, his daughter staring back up at him with her big bambi eyes. sometimes he’d lay there at night and think about what life would be like when she could talk.
he’d find himself wondering if she’d be a scientist or a doctor, how many kids she would have, what her favourite movie would be.
she looked peaceful in his arms and he started feeling bad for how much he was away from home. what if he missed her first words or first steps?
“you have to promise me that when you start talking, you’ll wait for me to be here, okay?” kylian said, his finger booping her nose.
most of the day was spent watching cartoons with kylian secretly liked, but he’d never admit it. feeding was pretty easy but when it came time for her to sleep, well it wasn’t going well.
“please, mon chéri. you have to go to sleep.”
her wails could probably be heard from down the street and kylian was trying his hardest to calm her down. he thought about ringing you but that would make you think he couldn’t do it alone.
kylian flicked the cartoons back on but still, she stayed crying. he remembered the only thing that calmed him down as a kid was his mother’s lullaby, so he started singing it softly.
she stopped and stared at him, her small fingers wrapped around his thumb. it was like she was exploring, learning everything about her dad by feeling his fingers and looking into his eyes.
after three minutes of the same lullaby over and over, she finally began to shut her eyes and kylian let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in.
kylian didn’t want to move her back to her crib in case she woke up again, so he moved over, resting his head against the headboard and letting sleep find him.
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screeching-bunny · 1 year
Note
Part 2 on the yandere General hcs
Yandere! General pt.2
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
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Pt. 1
Yandere! General is a battle-hardened leader with a reputation for being unyielding and fierce. An unapproachable force with a bloodthirsty aura present in his mannerism. So it’s no surprise that he’s out of place in the king’s banquet filled with joyous laughter and people waltzing onto the dance floor.
He feels repulsed by just being there, who cares if the royal family personally invited him, he should have stayed home. There were just too many people with ulterior motives for approaching and it didn’t help that the princess had a crush on him. God how he hated her, she just never seemed to want to leave him alone. She is a selfish little brat who whines all the time and always seems to balance others for her atrocious actions. “Please stay the night with me, I promise I’ll make it worthwhile? I’ve just missed seeing your face, I want to spend more time with you.” Yep, he really wished he stayed at home today.
Deciding that engaging in conversation with the princess was not worth it, he simply just ignored her and made his way outside to the royal garden. There, he sees a figure dancing in the moonlight. The way you moved had him transfixed and in a daze. He silently stares at them and waits for them to finish their performance. This dancer is actually you. Now the question arises, why are you dancing and in the royal garden no less? Well the answer to that question is quite complicated, actually.
Your father is a low leveled noble in the aristocratic society. Who is power hungry and strives to raise their social standing no matter what. Everyone in your family hates you and rarely acknowledges you. The reason for this is because your father cheated on his wife with a lowly maid working in his manor and conceived you. His wife, now your stepmother, was enraged by this and ended up murdering your biological mother. She was, however, never caught or tried. The only reason why she kept you around was because she thought that you would be useful for future purposes. Your family never really paid much attention to you and you have an older half sister who absolutely despises you. She treats you as if you were a dog or some common slave.
Your life was extremely miserable but the only thing that seemed to bring you happiness was dancing. You first learned to dance when you were eight. When one day you decide to sneak out of your father's manor and go visit town. Luckily for you, it was during that time that a festival was being held and you couldn’t take your eyes off of the dancers and secretly copied their moves. It wasn’t until one of them noticed you and asked if you would like to join them. Ever since then, you have been secretly going to town to learn and improve your dancing skills. It’s not like your family even cared that you were gone, heck they didn’t even notice.
Many years have passed and your love and passion for dance is still the same. This tranquility, however, did not last for long because the moment you turned eighteen your parents agreed to sell you off to be engaged to a rich but very old nobleman. No amount of begging and pleading could convince your parents to change their minds. It was always met with the same response of “Don’t you know we need the money? Why are you being so selfish?!?! How else could we raise our social status, don’t you know your sister needs this in order to have a chance with the crowned prince?!?! Just be lucky that you're alive and that we feed you!” You have never been more depressed. You’ve always dreamed of marrying for true love, you didn’t want things to end up this way.
The news of your engagement broke in high society which had helped boost your family's prestige. You had briefly met your soon to be husband and had to force yourself to not cry. After the meeting, your father severely scolded you and it was decided that the next time the two of you would meet, would be on your wedding day. Due to your family’s higher social status you were all invited to the royal banquet that was created to celebrate the country’s tremendous victory in the four year war. You’ve heard rumors about it and how it was mostly won due to the general who easily sunk ten battleships in one day.
The moment that you stepped foot into that room, you immediately felt as if you did not belong. You were so out of place and everything was just so suffocating for you. You had to go outside and take a breath of fresh air. When you made your way outside you noticed a beautiful path filled with followers and decided to follow it. There you saw a beautiful flower garden, none like you’ve ever seen before. Being there just felt so peaceful and relaxing. You couldn’t help but just live the moment and dance in the moonlit sky. During that time, everything just felt so right in the world.
After you finished your performance, someone coughed in order to get your attention. Looking to the right, your heart almost shot due to fear, it was Yandere! General. He starts to compliment your dancing and the way you shined brighter than any of the stars that night. You both chat for a few moments when he just randomly asks out of nowhere, if you wanted to marry him! You honestly could not believe this man, why would you want to marry someone you just met. Without batting an eye you quickly reject the offer and before he could say anything, one of his men went to inform him that the king wanted to speak with him. Clicking his tongue in annoyance he agrees to go and tells you that he’ll be back.
Watching him leave, you swiftly make your way to exit the garden and decide to hide out in one of the restrooms. When Yandere! General gets back and immediately tries to find you but to no avail because you successfully manage to avoid him and leave undetected. This does not deter him because he has been there to find you and orders his men to help his search. By the time that the sun starts to rise he learns almost everything about you. Your age, your family, and your engagement.
That same morning Yandere! General makes his way towards your house and demands for your hand in marriage. Your parents are unsure about what to say, on one hand you being married to the general would bring many benefits but, on the other, they already agreed to you being married to the old nobleman. Your father tells him about your engagement and Yandere! General responds calmly with, “Don't worry, I’ll handle it.” In the afternoon he mails the head of your fiancé to your parents. Welp problem solved, guess you’ll just have to marry him.
Running away in this situation is useless, the only thing that you can do is to just accept your fate. With a heavy heart, you interact with him everyday getting to know your future husband.
There were of course many protests from the upper class of society. How could someone like him marry a person of lower status? It just wasn’t right. These complaints mainly came from the princess who was the most vocal about it. She loved him so much how he could do this to her. She tried to stop the wedding of herself but Yandere! General threatened to kill her. When that didn’t work he told the royal family directly that if she tries to interfere any longer, then he won’t hesitate to rebel against the royal family. After that, all attempts were stopped.
Your wedding day is very grand, there is not one speck of dust to be seen anywhere. Everything seemed so perfect, with the best of items that only money could buy. There, in one of the rooms stood you, putting on your wedding outfit with many maids swarming you like a pack of bees. As you walk to the altar you are greeted with the smiling face of your fiancé. It felt like such a blur to you, that you could hardly even comprehend what was going on. It was as if some sucked all the air out of you.
“Do you take Yandere! General to be your lawful husband?”
“… I do.”
Pt.3
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moonlightspencie · 1 year
Text
bloodmoonlit
Description: Six years of friendship with more simmering beneath the surface. They thought they had no chance (but that’s romance).
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader
Warnings: drinking (a lot of it tbh), both of em being massive dorks, 18+ pls bc it gets mildly spicy at the end
Word Count: 5.4k
A/N: glitch is one of the best songs on midnights & nobody can convince me otherwise. anyways i didn’t proofread this sorry but i’m selfish
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She was a hunter. He was… Also a hunter. Classic meet-cutes get a lot less cute when you’re meeting over the corpse of a wendigo.
Dean looked at her with awe and wonder after watching her use a flamethrower to take down a few wendigos that had started in on him. She lowered it like it was nothing after they stopped screeching into the night.
“Hey,” she greeted with a little smile. “You’re one of the Winchester boys, aren’t you?”
“Dean.”
“You’re like a modern-day folklore story, you know that?”
He chuckled, sure to make a comment about the flamethrower at the first chance. He got her number at the second chance.
They made fast friends at that point, both relentlessly flirting. Both never quite sure to what degree the other meant it.
Dean always found himself making trips towards wherever she was more often that what may be considered necessary. She never intentionally ran into him, but if she saw that impala roll up to a case, she always obliged her time. Especially if that meeting happened in a crowded bar where she could relish in the feeling of his attention being placed on her rather than anyone else who would immediately say yes to a night at his motel. Those green eyes sparkling as he chatted her up like they were the closest of friends.
Until they were the closest of friends, of course.
“How’s, uh…” Dean trailed, trying to think. “Was it Matthew?”
She snorted. “Didn’t last long.”
“Why not?”
“Never do,” she said curtly, sipping at her drink. “Non-hunter relationships don’t exactly work for me. They end up with too many questions too quick.”
He hummed, looking down at his own drink. She watched him for a moment, letting herself take a moment to admire the way neon lights bounced off his face. He always seemed to look extra pretty that way.
“Situationships,” she stated as a start, “That’s what pretty much everything I get into ends up as. Whatever works in the moment, no real strings.”
“And yet you always talk about wanting to be tied down,” he said with a smirk.
“Always is a big word,” she replied with a laugh. “I think someday I’d like that. Just don’t think it’s compatible with who I am right now.”
“You think you’re gonna change?”
“I’m always changing. That’s life, right?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve changed much.”
She laughed.
“I’ve known you for a year, and even in that time you’ve gotten a little different.”
He quirked a brow. “How so?”
“Laugh a little less, but still seem a bit happier. More accepting of life as it is, I guess.”
He sat with that for a moment, then nodded.
“I’ve had to. Every time I get stubborn, I end up screwing everything up.”
“Hey,” she said softly, pulling him out of his own head before he dug too deep, “You’re always learning. Always growing. Don’t beat yourself up.”
He smiled softly, letting her words carry him out of that out. They tended to do that more and more as he faced everything the world threw at him. His affection slowly morphed into more, and he tried not to panic about it. He did what he always did best: buried it as deep as it could go.
She realized her own feelings shifting, but her realization slammed into her like a truck. They were supposed to be just friends.
It all started with little chance meetings which turned into weekly calls which turned into “Do you want to stay with Sam and I? We’ve got a permanent place now”.
She ended up moving in shortly after the boys did. Three years of knowing them, she never expected to be living with them. Especially after all they’d gone through.
Granted, she helped with some of it. She was there when they had to cram Sam’s soul back in his body. She was there for the rise and fall of Dick. She was there when Dean came back from Purgatory.
She just wasn’t constantly with them. Only a kind of side-character in their grand adventure. Now, however…
“I think that’s all,” she said, dropping a few bags on her bed.
“Oh, right, because this isn’t over-doing it at all,” Dean said, humor lacing his voice.
She narrowed her eyes at him, then looked back around the empty room.
“I just— I’m excited to feel at home. I haven’t had a real place in…” she stopped, sighing.
“Yeah, I get it,” Dean spoke up, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “I was so excited to have my own bed, you have no clue.”
“I have some clue. You sent me like fifteen messages about it within the span of ten seconds,” she laughed.
“I love that memory foam, what can I say?”
“How about you get useful and help me set up shop here?” she asked, smiling at him as he already started pulling items out of the bags.
The bunker was like a hunter paradise in her eyes. She got the chance to have a place to call home. She got her own room, a million lore books, Dean, a place to do some baking, her favorite mug…
Wait. She couldn’t find her mug.
“Dean, where’d you put my mug?” she called out before he even got to the kitchen
“Stop calling me out before I’m even in the room. It’s creepy,” he said with a chuckle, walking in.
“Can’t help it. I know how you sound walkin’ around in here.”
She turned from the kitchen counter where the coffee was brewing. He watched her for a moment, smile still stuck in place.
“So?” she asked.
He raised a brow. “So…?”
She sighed. “My mug?”
“Oh,” he exclaimed, walking further towards her to open the fridge. “Made soup the other day and didn’t have any clean bowls.”
He pulled out the soup-filled mug, handing it in her direction. She quirked a brow, looking inside of it.
“I ain’t cleaning that out.”
He sighed dramatically, walking towards the sink.
“Guess I’ll do it. Princess can’t handle a few chunks of chicken in her precious mug.”
She smacked his arm lightly, scoffing.
“You’re the one who put chicken in it in the first place. You know that’s my favorite mug.”
He smirked, silently cleaning it out for her. When he was finished he turned, handing it off as he leaned against the counter.
“If my coffee is soup-flavored I’m going to have Cas smite you,” she mumbled, pouring it full.
She filled up another mug she’d pulled down in the meantime, sliding it to Dean.
“And yet, you still get me my coffee,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.
She hid a smile, shaking her head as she prepared hers.
“You know you love me,” he sang to her, heading towards the library.
She followed after, not even realizing what she was doing until she was halfway there. It was like they were attached at the hip.
They practically were over the following months, never not wanting to do everything together.
“Come on, Sam,” she whined. “You’re no fun.”
He smirked, attempting to leave the kitchen.
“Not all of us want to get plastered on a Tuesday night.”
“Speak for yourself” Dean said with a sparkle in his eye. He looked at Y/N. “You love getting screwed by me, right? Oh, sorry, with me.”
“Oh, yeah. My favorite activity, actually,” she said back with a smirk.
Sam sighed, rolling his eyes as he stood.
“I think I’m about done listening to you two flirt, anyways.”
“Aww,” she started, leaning closer to where he stood. “You gettin’ jealous, Sammy?”
“I’m getting grossed out,” he laughed. “Goodnight.”
The two at the table said a quick goodnight, turning back to their drinks and their jokes in an instant.
“Maybe we just need to sweat it out,” he jokes, brows dancing suggestively.
She laughed. “In your dreams, Winchester. We’ve gone almost six years without a slip-up, do you really think now’s a good time to break that record?”
He contemplated for a moment, fully believing it was a good time to break it. He couldn’t think of a better time with the exception of five-and-a-half years ago. But, he decided to actually use his brain.
“Guess you’re right.”
She smiled, pretending not to be thinking about the fact that she definitely thought she was all wrong. She really though that he should have known better than anyone that she believed records were made to be broken.
“I’m always right.”
“Now you’re dreaming,” he said with a chuckle, tossing back the rest of his drink.
He poured two shots, sliding one to her.
“Here’s to almost six years— what, like, five years and ten months? Something like that?”
She nodded. “July 7th.”
He stilled a moment, not thinking about the fact that of course she would remember the day they met.
“How many days is that?”
She hummed, playing into his little game as she pulled out her phone. She typed away until she got her answer:
“2119 days if I did the math right.”
“Nineteen or ninety?”
“Nineteen.”
“What do you say we have a special celebration if we get to twenty one ninety, then?”
She snorted. “What do you constitute as special?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he winked, tossing back his shot.
She mirrored his actions, then quickly typed away again.
“What do you know? 2190 is exactly the six year mark,” she smirked. “Alright. Deal.”
Weeks passed, and life was shockingly normal in that time. Well, normal for their standards, which still included all the things that go bump in the night. After a particularly long hunt, getting back to the bunker was a relief.
All three of them went to their respective rooms to get some rest, but, as had become a pattern, Dean went knocking on Y/N’s door. She opened with a tired smile, inviting him in.
They sat around, talking about whatever topics came to mind, listening to music playing in the background. When conversation fell quiet, an idea struck her like lightening.
“Come on, Dean. A little dancing wouldn’t kill ya,” she said, moving a little to the music.
He laughed, watching her from her bed. She held out her hands, and finally took them after a few seconds. She could be very convincing, he thought.
They jumped around the room in an un-choreographed, ridiculous, messy dance that left both of them giggling and out of breath. Her music wasn’t always his style, but he sure didn’t mind listening to her sing every word with a passion as if she’d written them herself.
“See? You love this,” she exclaimed as the upbeat song faded out.
“Only because you’re making me,” he smiled.
She laughed again, starting to turn when a slow song started going. He didn’t let her get far, however, pulling her back into his chest by the hand. He played it off all nonchalant at first, ignoring the smile on her face as a bit he always liked to play anytime he started being affectionate in an unconventional way.
“Really?” she asked.
She reached up, fingertips brushing against his jaw so that he’d look at her again. He smiled softly when she did, just watching her for a few seconds.
“You wanted to dance. We’re dancing,” he said, swaying along to the melody.
“Such a gentleman.”
He smirked, not letting up in the dance. She gave in, resting her head against his shoulder as the music played. He closed his eyes, resting his cheek against her and letting the smell of her perfume lull him in the dance more than the song could. Her gentle humming put a smile on his face that he was grateful she couldn’t see: he was certain he’d look like a lovesick puppy.
As the song faded out, she finally pulled away enough to see him again, both of them still moving as another faded in. She looked at him with a glimmer in her eyes. He took in a slow breath, watching her face for a few moments, their movements slowing. He wanted to kiss her more than anything. So, he took an action:
“I’m gonna grab a drink.”
He untethered himself from her, quickly making an exit to leave her alone and deeply confused.
She sat in the library a few days later, reading a book she found on werewolf mating habits.
“What do ya got, there?” Sam asked, walking into the room.
She glanced up, a brow raised. “You don’t want to know, trust me.”
Sam snorted. “Alright.”
“You need something?”
She closed the book, setting it down on the table.
“Yeah. Do you want to hang out? I just hooked up a new TV in my room.”
“Sure,” she shrugged. “When?”
“I’m making popcorn right now.”
She laughed, agreeing as she got up. She got comfortable in his room, back against the headboard of his bed. He walked in a minute later, handing over the bowl of popcorn as he settled in.
“Is Dean coming?” she asked.
“No. He went out for the night.”
“Ah,” she said softly after a beat.
Sam straightened up, looking at her.
“He didn’t invite you?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“He always does. Why not now?”
She sighed, settling into the cushions, still looking ahead.
“I think I freaked him out. We were in my room the other night, and I asked him to dance with me. He did, but then… I don’t know,” she shrugged. “After a couple songs he left fast and he’s definitely been pulling away from me since then.”
“Hey,” he called, grabbing her attention. “Anyone who doesn’t appreciate you isn’t worth your time. You know that, right?”
“Thanks, Sammy,” she smiled, looking down again. “I just keep getting in my own head.”
“When aren’t you?” he joked.
“You jerk,” she said, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. “I’m trying to be, like, open right now.”
“I know,” he drawled, leaning his head against hers.
She brushed a few pieces of his hair off her forehead.
“Maybe I just need to go out and have some fun myself,” she said after a moment.
He perked up.
“Dude, yeah!”
He stood abruptly, holding out his hands for her. She took them, standing slowly, and looking around the room for some stray confidence so that she wouldn’t back out.
“Tell you what,” Sam started, giving her the hope she wanted, “You go get ready, and we’ll head out together. I’ll be your wingman.”
She smiled. “That sounds great. I immediately wasn’t sure about heading off by myself.”
“I could tell,” he laughed.
She got ready in record time, putting on her favorite dress for good measure. They left the bunker, hitting a nearby bar that didn’t have an impala parked anywhere close.
“They’re just… giving me nothing,” she said with a sigh, slumping in the seat next to Sam at the bar.
“What do you mean? That last guy looked really into it.”
“He was. He was also into talking about his ex-girlfriend within the first few minutes of conversation,” she snorted. “I think I’m asking too much. I should just find someone and make out with ‘em.”
“You sure about that?”
She looked at Sam again, a smile breaking out.
“No. But if we do another shot, I might be.”
He sighed, obliging her only because he knew she’d do it without him anyways. They threw back the shots, and he wished her luck as she went off in search of someone who wanted nothing but a good time.
Well, kind of a good time. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to take some dude home.
She went onto the dance-floor, deciding she’d let someone come to her rather than prowling for herself, and got her wish pretty fast. A moderately attractive man caught her hand as she swayed around by herself, asking for a dance. She plastered on a smile as she agreed, letting him take the lead.
“What’s your name?” he asked over the music.
“Do you really want to know?” she teased.
He smirked. “Guess it’s more fun not to know, huh?”
She smiled again, pulling him down to her lips as they moved to the music. She closed her eyes, appreciating the ease at which she got what she wanted. The only problem is that she couldn’t help imagining it was Dean instead of Unnamed Bar-Goer.
Regardless, she justified that they were merely using each other, so who cares if she let her mind run a little wild?
She only backed away when he started getting a little handsy for her tastes. She thanked him for his time, walking away and back to Sam. He raised his brows when she came back.
“Hey, looks like you got it,” he said, watching her sit. “Also looks like you aren’t too happy.”
“Still giving me absolutely nothing,” she said with a sigh. “Not a damn thing.”
He chuckled. “Maybe this plan didn’t work out so well.”
“Still got to drink with my favorite giant,” she noted with a wink and nudge.
“Ha ha. Real flattering, thanks.”
He rolled his eyes, but let himself smirk when she wasn’t paying much attention. They sat talking at the bar for another hour or so before Sam decided to call it a night. She linked an arm around Sam’s as they walked out of the bar, definitely a little more drunk than she intended to get.
Dean walked into the bunker, spirits effectively dampened. His attempt to get his mind off of his I-almost-kissed-her moment didn’t work in the slightest, and now he was in a sour mood as a result.
His mood only worsened when he saw Sam and Y/N stumbling into the kitchen, the latter a drunken mess in an outfit he liked a little too much. He watched as Sam helped her into the room, practically propping her up against the counter.
“What the hell?” Dean asked as his brother got a glass from the cupboard.
“What?” Sam defended, filling up the cup with water.
“For one, why is she laughing at herself against the kitchen counter?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “We went out.”
He walked over to Y/N, handing her the glass. She sipped at the water, then set it down just as quickly.
“Done,” she cheered.”
“No, you’re not,” Sam said, picking up the water and giving it right back to her. “Come on, you’re going to be hungover tomorrow.”
She refused the drink, kicking off her shoes. Then, she turned to level her gaze at Dean as he sipped on a beer.
“And where did you go run off to?”
He raised his brows. “Does it matter?”
“Yeah,” she stated with finality.
“Out.”
“Get lucky?” she asked, more bitterness in her tone than she meant to let out.
“No.”
She rolled her eyes, then glanced at Sam again.
“Wanna go hang out and read? I found a book about how werewolves get it on,” she said, giggling as she ended the sentence.
“What?”
Dean spoke up again. “Since when do you go out and get drunk without a reason?”
She snapped back to him. “Since I was celebrating me. I’m done chasing after guys who don’t want— What was it, Sam? Like if they don’t appreciate me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked back, setting down his drink.
“Sammy, I wanna talk to Dean by myself,” she managed to say, hardly looking at him.
“I don’t know—”
“Sam,” she cut him off, watching him.
He put his hands up in defense, walking out of the room. She watched until he left, then looked at Dean again. He glanced sideways at her as she swayed slightly while she stood.
“You know, those six years are coming up real soon, De,” she said, staring from across the counter.
“Are they?” he asked, wondering where this was going.
“Mhm. One more week I think,” she hiccuped. “Sorry.”
He furrowed his brow. “You’re drunk.”
“I tried kissing someone today,” she said, words tumbling out fast like she couldn’t control them. “I hated it.”
He paused, unsure why she was saying this. His heart hurt more than he thought it would, hearing her admit that.
“Why?” was all he could manage.
“Why’d you go out without me?” she countered. “You never go out without me, not since we met.”
He sighed, eyes closing as he braced himself against the counter. He heard her as she got closer, eventually leaning her head against his arm.
“I’m glad you didn’t go home with anyone today.”
He swallowed, unable to look at her. “Yeah. I— I was gonna try, to be honest, but…”
“I’m gonna throw up,” she said, suddenly moving to the sink.
He followed after swiftly, helping her as best as he could. He pulled her hair back gently as she emptied her stomach into the kitchen sink.
“You’re okay, sweetheart,” he said softly, rubbing her back with the hand that wasn’t holding her hair. “Get it all out.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, sniffling.
“I’ve seen you worse,” he said with a smirk. “That upset about what I said?”
If she had been a touch more sober, she might have realized he was joking. Unfortunately, she took it completely literally.
“I didn’t mean to. I just thought about you and some—”
“Whoa, whoa. Hold on, I wasn’t—” he paused as she stood again, running the sink to clear it out. He turned it off again, impatient. “What are you talking about?”
“What?”
He watched her as she straightened herself out, pulling down the skirt of the dress she was in where it had ridden up.
“You threw up over me mentioning—”
“Dean.”
“Why?”
She sighed, leaning down to rest her head on the counter.
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“You kissed someone. I didn’t even get that far.”
“Why do you care?” she asked, standing again, and nearly falling over.
He caught her gently, but kept his hard tone as he responded to her.
“Why do you?”
“Because I just do, Dean.”
“You’re so freaking stubborn,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes with one hand.
“You’re one to talk. This is all your fault anyways.”
“Excuse me?” he asked, annoyance in his voice.
“It’s your fault,” she said, punctuating the phrase with a slap to his chest.
“Yeah? And how’s that?”
“You should’ve just kissed me instead of chickening out and running away like a little boy.”
He was stunned into silence, his anger dissipating and then quickly returning.
“If you hadn’t made me dance with you, I wouldn’t have been all in your face in the first place,” he shot back.
“You’re such a dick,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Six years of not chasing anyone but you, and for what? You’re acting like a bitch.”
“Well, jokes on you, sweetheart,” he exclaimed, opening up his arms. “Hasn’t even been six years.”
“Great! Let’s hope we never get there, then!”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m not the one who ran off to get a hookup because I couldn’t handle my feelings.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, you just ran off to make out with someone because you couldn’t handle your feelings.”
“Why do you feel the need to make everything so difficult?”
“Because you’re the most difficult person I’ve ever met,” he said, voice raising to an octave you didn’t often hear. “How else am I supposed to deal with you?”
She groaned in frustration, pushing past him to leave. She stalked out of the kitchen, only making it so far as the hallway before she was getting pulled back.
“Stop it, Dean,” she all but yelled.
He rolled his eyes, pulling her closer and leaning down to kiss her. One hand found her face, a surprisingly gentle touch in comparison to how intense the kiss was. She felt like she couldn’t catch her breath, a smile on her face as he finally gave in. He pulled back a moment later, though not without an internal struggle.
“The douchebag at the bar kiss you like that?” he mumbled against her lips.
“Not exactly,” she sighed. “What took you so long?”
“You weren’t making moves either, loser,” he said with a laugh.
“You didn’t exactly make yourself out to be available, De.”
“And you did? You literally told me I wouldn’t get you in my wildest dreams a few weeks ago.”
She paused, a smile spreading to her face.
“Touché.”
“How about now?”
She quirked a brow. “You propositioning me, Winchester?”
“If I was, what would you say to that?”
“I’d say that I think there must be some technical malfunctions in the universe for me to get that lucky.”
He smirked, slowly backing her until she was pressed against the wall.
“Early celebration?”
“Only if we still celebrate when we hit twenty one ninety,” she said with a smile. “Gotta safeguard, here. Easier for me to make sure this doesn’t become a one-time thing.”
“You think I’d be able to stop after one time? It’s you,” he said, moving in closer. Her arms wound around his neck. “I’ve been holding out for six years.”
“Not quite.”
“Mm. Close enough.”
He leaned in to kiss her again, this time slow and soft. She kissed back, glad to finally know what his lips felt like against hers. He let his hands wander, holding to her hips and sliding down further.
“You look real pretty in this dress,” he mumbled between kisses.
“Was hoping you’d see it and like it,” she smiled, nipping at his lip. “Just don’t rip it if you decide to take it off me.”
He smiled against her as he leaned back in. He kissed her, deepening it immediately as one hand dragged down her leg. He slotted his own thigh between her legs, adding a little friction that had her gasping into his mouth. He started hiking up the skirt of the dress further. Slowly, purposely teasing her with it. Teasing himself just as much.
Then, heavy footsteps started coming down the hall. They separated quickly and ducked inside the kitchen, hoping Sam would walk past. Unfortunately, they were wrong.
Dean stood behind Y/N quickly, concealing a problem he didn’t exactly have time to fix.
“Hey,” Sam said softly, seemingly not noticing a thing. “I didn’t hear yelling coming down and needed a drink. You two all good?”
She nodded. “Great.”
“Awesome,” Dean said at the same time.
Sam nodded, giving a tight smile as he walked past.
“We were actually about to head to bed, so…” she said, looking at him as he stood at the fridge.
“Okay,” he nodded, nonchalant. “Night.”
“Night.”
Dean waved a quick goodbye, following after her quickly. They broke into his room, giggling like a couple of drunk toddlers.
“He didn’t hear yelling,” Dean said, closing in on her once the door was shut.
She reached for his belt, quickly undoing it as they got closer to the bed.
“He didn’t.”
He grabbed her by the waist, tossing her down on the mattress, slowly climbing on top of her.
“Wanna test and see if the walls in here are just as soundproof?”
She looked up at him as he finally tugged her dress up around her hips.
“I love a good experiment.”
She laid back in the early morning hours, not even bringing herself to be annoyed that she was being suffocated by a large man on top of her. Mostly because if Dean killed her that way, it certainly would suck, but what a way to go.
She sighed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as he rested against her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair until he eventually woke up with the sweetest sleepy smile point at her.
“Hey,” he said, adjusting himself to see her better.
“Hey,” she greeted, accepting a soft kiss. “I think we should’ve done that forever ago.”
“I don’t know. Might be like a wine situation. We let it sit so long that it got even better by the time we actually got some.”
“Very poetic.”
He smiled, a hand coming to rest on her side as he kissed her again. It was slow and lazy and altogether too sweet. She was almost embarrassed that she had to be there to witness how mushy that moment was, if not for the fact that she was on the receiving end of the mush. She pulled away from him first, leaving him to whine.
“You’re so dramatic,” she said in a whisper. “Whining?”
“You were doing plenty of that last night,” he smirked.
“Okay,” she rolled her eyes playfully. “Why don’t we get some breakfast. I’m starving.”
His hand started moving downward, inching up the shirt of his that she was wearing.
“I could eat.”
“Dean,” she warned.
He started scooting down the mattress slowly, not giving up.
“Come on. Kitchen.”
“Ooh, kinky.”
“Cut it out,” she laughed. “Kitchen for actual breakfast. I don’t waste time when it comes to breakfast.”
They made it to the kitchen for that breakfast successfully! Twenty minutes later, anyway.
“Hey,” Sam greeted, not looking up.
“Morning, Sammy,” Dean said, going straight towards the cabinets for cereal.
She realized suddenly that there may have been something she forgot in his room.
“Is that Dean’s shirt?” Sam asked.
She looked down, realizing that it was clothes she had forgotten. Sam paused, raising a hand.
“On second thought, I don’t want to know. Glad to know you’re at least not fighting. Just— Maybe some pants next time.”
She laughed, following Dean to the table as he set down two bowls of cereal. They all sat eating in a comfortable silence. Then a slightly less comfortable silence as Dean grabbed her thigh halfway through breakfast. Sam quickly excused himself after that, a knowing smile on his face as he left.
“So… We’re in the kitchen,” Dean said, leaning towards her. “I don’t think Sammy’s comin’ back anytime soon.”
After definitely not doing anything weird in the kitchen and then totally not feeling bad and scrubbing down the entire room for the day, things fell into a new rhythm. It was comfortable and surprisingly less of an adjustment than they were expecting. All of those years of relentless flirting must’ve made for an easy transition.
Dean cleared his throat a few days later, grabbing her attention as she lounged in the room he’d set aside for TV-watching (with the fun new addition of a couch).
“Yeah?” she asked, looking away from the screen to see him.
“Guess what?”
“Hm?”
“2190 days.”
She smiled. “Yeah? Is that today?”
He hummed, giving a nod.
“What were those special plans of yours?”
He raised a brow. “You really wanna know?”
She merely nodded. He paused the show they were watching.
“I, uh— I was gonna tell you how I felt if I didn’t chicken out.”
“You’re kidding,” she replied after a beat.
“I’m not,” he said with a chuckle.
“Man. Almost twenty two hundred days of a blackout before we finally lit it up, huh?”
He laughed. “That’s one way of putting it.”
She paused, turning to put her feet in his lap. He immediately, started rubbing her leg, enjoying the uninhibited ability to touch her.
“Wanna know something funny?”
He raised a brow in question.
“Years ago someone told me they knew we’d end up together.”
“Who? Bobby?”
She shook her head. “Garth.”
He rolled his eyes as she laughed, poking him in the arm a moment later.
“Got to give it to him, he’s always been perceptive,” she noted.
“Guess so,” he nodded, reluctant to admit it. “Freakin’ Garth.”
She watched him a moment, then retracted her legs. He looked at her, almost hurt with those big puppy-dog eyes.
“Oh, poor baby,” she cooed. “Don’t worry, I’m comin’ closer.”
She crawled over to him, settling in his lap. He ran his hands up her legs, a small smile returning to his lips.
“I can think of a few other ways we can celebrate today, you know?”
“Yeah?” he asked, leaning into the cushions.
“Five words: apple pie in the freezer.”
“Oh, baby, you know how to talk dirty to me,” he groaned, pulling her down for a kiss in a fit of laughter.
FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE
—————
dean winchester taglist:
@deanwithscissors @hyunjaebaby
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clockwayswrites · 7 months
Text
What yes? I didn't write one.
WC: 808 Masterpost
Jason didn’t see Danny until Tuesday. Which was fine.
It was fine.
He knew how busy Danny’s Monday classes were. But knowing that Danny was busy and waiting out the other’s expected arrival were two very different things. Jason did his best to occupy his time with reviewing the proposition for the new Park Row Library.
His kitchen counter covered in baked goods showed how well the distraction went.
It’s just that if he thought to much about Danny and all of the… surrounding Danny-ness, he started over thinking everything about it. It was better to just not think, which was hard, so baking. Baking always calmed him down. But now Jason had nowhere to set down the tray of cookies that were in hand. Maybe he should invite his siblings over, all of this would be gone by nights end with that swarm of locust.
A knock at his door paused Jason’s attempts to Tetris his counter into order. Thanking his good balance, Jason pulled up his door camera on his phone.
It was only Danny.
Fuck, it was only Danny.
Plate of cookies still in hand, Jason opened the door. “Danny, hi.”
Danny opened his mouth, closed it, and then took a step back. He brought a hand up to cover his grin. “Jason.”
“Danny…,” Jason said back warily.
“I, um,” Danny did his best to muffle a snicker. “,ah, like your apron. Did Dick get you it?”
Jason had to glance down at the apron he had put on that morning. He didn’t really look at them, it’s just whatever was on top of the clean stack. Today though, meeting him was the upside down text of ‘Titty Protector’. It was bright white on the blue apron.
As Jason sighed Danny gave up on trying to hide his laughter and just cackled.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up and see how many cookies you get.”
“No! I’m sorry,” Danny whined, trying to get his laughter back under control. “It’s a great apron. Amazing. Would ogle again. Dick totally bought it for you, didn’t he?”
“Actually it was Stephanie, friend of the family.”
“She must be something,” Danny said. He snagged a cookie as Jason backed up to let him through the door, only to pause with it halfway to his mouth. “Um, prepping for a bake sale?”
“No,” Jason grumbled. He locked his door before joining Danny in staring at the counter covered in baked goods. It really was absurd looking at it with fresh eyes. Even his siblings might have issues with this pile.
“So… ah, why all the food?”
Jason just frowned and clicked his nail against the edge of the plate. He didn’t know how to explain this to Danny.
“Oh Jason,” Danny sighed. He took the plate from Jason’s left hand, snagged his right, and led them over to the couch. The cookies got set down on the coffee table. “Hood talked to you, didn’t it?”
Jason nodded.
“Jason, it’s okay. We can still just be friends, right? I promise I won’t try anything with Hood either, it’s both of you or neither of you—”
Jason jerked his gaze to Danny. “What?”
Danny smile was sad and a little wobbly. “Like I told Hood, I’m not a home wrecker and clearly this is stressing you out. You don’t have to worry about letting me down gently.”
“Danny.”
“I just… I’d still like to be friends?”
“Danny! I’m stress baking because I want to say yes. I mean, we both want to say yes.”
Danny’s mouth snapped closed. His brow furrowed. “Saying yes is stressing you out?”
“Well… you have kept me waiting. You never did ask me, actually, and—”
“Hey Jason?” Danny asked, cutting Jason off.
Jason didn’t know whether to smile or sigh. He settled for both. “Yes Danny?”
“I’d really like to date you and your boyfriend. I think you’re both pretty amazing and I’ve gotten permission from your boyfriend to ask you. So, what do you say, want to date me too?”
“It could be dangerous.”
“Luckily I’ve been getting self defense lessons.”
“I’m a public figure.”
“I’m pretty oblivious to news, or you can keep me a secret like Hood.”
“He’s a crime lord.”
“Let’s be real, he’s a philanthropist with guns.”
“I’ve… only dated Hood. I might be really bad at it.”
“Luckily I already like being around you. And you feed me. Come on Jason, date me?” Danny asked, finally taking a bite of the cookie he had been holding this whole time.
Jason rolled his eyes, but could feel the smile pulling at his lips. “How can I say no to that?”
“That a yes?”
“Yes.”
Danny whooped and leaned in to press a quick kiss to Jason’s lips.
“You taste like cookies,” Jason said. He was grinning now.
“Yeah, and who’s fault is that?”
---
AN: Thank you for the suggestions! I actually had a few lines of this one written so I went with it because I've been slayed. Had some bad new from work on the end of 3 meetings and then came home to a disturbing comment so I'm just a little done today.
BUT! We got something cute! And the boys have the scene where they start dating! Woohoo. Stay delightful and kind, darlings.
I no longer tag, you can instead subscribe to the masterpost.
890 notes · View notes
imtryingbuck · 7 months
Text
Affair Part 2
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~ gif not mine credit goes to owner ~
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Fem!Reader x ??
Summary: The aftermath of reader telling Bucky she’s divorcing him
Word count: 3157
Warnings: Bucky is a big huge gigantic humongous dumdum. Swearing, if there’s more let me know.
Translation: милая девушка - beautiful girl. ангел - angel.
Masterlist
Part 1
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“I filed for divorce” kept playing on his mind for the rest of the night long after she had gone to bed. His phone kept going off nonstop, the messages and missed calls all from Sharon.
He stayed at the home he shared with his wife and children for four hours waiting, hoping his beautiful wife who he betrayed would come back down the stairs and tell him she forgave him.
It never happened.
He left, getting into the car his wife brought him, the same car he fucked his mistress in and went straight to Sharon’s. Knocking on the door he only had to wait for a few minutes before the wooden door came swinging open.
“You finally showed, I’ve been waiting for ages! We need to talk” Sharon stands there, red eyed as if she had been crying.
“She’s divorcing me” Walking past her and looking around the room he’d been in so many time before - double date nights, just seeing his best friend, cheating on his wife with his best friend’s wife.
“He’s divorcing me too” Her voice was happier than his. “Now we can be together, I had to cry in front of Steve pretending I cared. Then you wouldn’t pick up your phone I wa-”
“I don’t want you Sharon. I want Y/n. I want my children and my best friend back. Me and you biggest mistake I have ever made!” Cutting her off.
“You’re joking right? We are so perfect together not me and Steve and especially not you and that bitch!”
“Don’t. Don’t you dare call my wife a bitch” he seethes.
“Don’t act like you care now Bucky where was that caring nature of yours when you was sleeping with me for 8 months? And news flash she’s divorcing you she’s not going to get back with you!”
Having her remind him of the stone cold truth hit him in the gut. Sharon was right, his wife was divorcing him. She was never going to get back together with him.
“I don’t care if she’s divorcing me just don’t call her a bitch.”
“Okay, how about we don’t talk about them two okay? Here’s what I was thinking, I’m getting the house in the divorce so I’ll just sell it and me and you can get an apartment together? We can buy all new furniture and it can be a fresh start for us and oh I’ve already found -“.
As Sharon stands there rambling on he had the urge to ring his wife and tell her she was wrong. Sharon did want him now that they were divorcing, she’s even planned to sell her house so they can get an apartment together. Y/n was wrong about that Sharon and himself couldn’t run off into the sunset and live happily ever after because he stood there with his mistress in front of him and having to hear her rambling off about their new future together.
His wife who he loves more than anything in this world was wrong.
Because it wasn’t Sharon that didn’t want him now their affair was known to their spouses. It was him. He was the one that didn’t want her, he didn’t want the apartment with Sharon, he didn’t want a fresh start with his best friends soon to be ex-wife. No, he wanted his wife back. He wanted a fresh start with Y/n so he can get a second chance of being better. He wanted the love of his life back, and he wanted Steve back - he knew himself that Steve wouldn’t forgive him for his part of her affair.
“-Bucky? Bucky are you even listening to me?” Sharon’s voice cut his inner monologue off.
“Huh? Oh yeah sorry”
“You wasn’t listening was you? It’s okay silly bum I was just talking about an apartment I found the other day, oh Buck it’s beautiful and I honestly think it would be perfect for us” Her voice was hopeful and excited. He found himself comparing her voice to the one belonging to his wife when she found the house that became their home.
“Sharon this isn’t going to work”
“Of course it will, I love you and you love me”
“No Sharon I don’t. I don’t love you, I will always love Y/n”
“No! No you don’t James! You love me!” Sharon screamed at him.
Sighing “Listen Sharon I don’t love you, I never had. I have never been attracted to you-“
“Never been attracted to me? You’re joking right?”
“No”
“You prick!”
“We wouldn’t work anyway Sharon. You cheated on Steve with me and I cheated on Y/n with you. We would always accuse each other, we wouldn’t be happy I can promise you that”
“N-no you wouldn’t cheat on me though!”
“I cheated on my WIFE! You really think I wouldn’t do it to you? I love her for Christ sake, she’s the only person I have ever been attracted to! When I was fucking you I was thinking of her! C’mon Sharon don’t be so stupid, it doesn’t suit you” He’s only now regretting coming over here, at the time he didn’t know where else he could go.
“Yo-you ruined my marriage James” he watched her struggle to breathe for a moment “you ruined my marriage!”
“No I didn’t, you did. You are the one that made a vow to Steve not me. Like how I ruined my marriage with Y/n not you.”
“You-we made love James”
“We fucked. We didn’t make love Sharon” rolling his eyes at her petty attempt at making him change his mind.
“I-don’t-you don’t want me now? But you did earlier? You fucked me in your car, went home and get confronted by your wife, then you come here and tell me you don’t want me anymore? Is that what you’re trying to tell me right now?” Her anger and tears were on full display.
“I’m sorry. I am. It’s just I love Y/n more than anything. I’m going to go; I’ll see you around I guess” he was just about to touch the door handle when her voice stopped him.
“Fuck me one last time. Please James”.
And ever the fool, he did.
~~~
The months after she told him she had filed for divorce she flourished, no more crying herself to sleep, no more fake smiles and no more faking confidence. She was the happiest she had been since she caught her husband fucking a woman that was most definitely not her. Her and Steve’s friendship grew too, they became closer than ever. They were each other’s shoulder to cry on, they supported one another when they needed it.
But then came their divorce to being finalised, and that’s where Y/n struggled.
Nat had forced convinced her to go and see a therapist, Dr Grey was a lovely woman who didn’t care about telling her to stop putting herself down, happily called her stupid when she blamed herself for the affair. Dr Grey - Linda as she told Y/n to call her - became a good friend, a friend she needed and wanted.
In the aftermath of her divorce she became isolated, she didn’t want to see or hear anyone that wasn’t her children. Sam being the best friend that he is, would pick up the kids and take them to school and drop them back off. Nat would go to the shops and sometimes even cook them dinner. She felt like she was causing problems for Nat and Sam because they were spending so much time running around after her that they couldn’t spend any time together.
“Don’t be stupid Y/n. You know me and Sam love you, we are more than happy to help” Nat spoke one night when they were lying in bed together.
“I feel like I’m causing problems and I don’t want you two to argue becau-“
“Y/n stop! You’re not causing problems and we are not arguing, like at all. You know Sam loves them kids of yours, he actually loves taking them to school because and I quote ‘they make me feel cool’” both women chuckle at the red heads husband “so stop милая девушка, we are both here for you, I promise”
She cried herself to sleep most nights, cried for the loss of her marriage - for weeks she would find herself going to play with the ring that use to sit on her fourth finger only for her to look down and only see a fading white tan line. Signing her maiden name not married one took months to engrain as she was just so use to writing Barnes after her name. She would find herself reaching out to the other side of the brand new double sized bed searching for his warmth, always finding it empty, always leaving her feeling alone and cold.
She cried the loss of her friendship with Sharon. They had been friends for nearly three years prior to Sharon introducing her and Bucky to each other. She was the first person Y/n would phone whenever something good and bad happened, she was actually the first person to know Y/n was pregnant with her oldest child - hell it was Sharon that told her she was pregnant as she couldn’t bring herself to look at it. Y/n was always there for Sharon night or day she was there. The pain of her betrayal was almost more unbearable than Bucky’s.
Her mental and physical health took a toll too. Constantly blaming herself for not being enough for him, blaming herself for being tired sometimes to not have sex with him. Blaming herself was so much easier and safer for her than to blame the two people who hurt her. Her weight loss was concerning to Nat and Sam, although she would find herself hungry she just couldn’t stomach anything. Nat cleaned the house whilst Sam took the kids to the park as Y/n had a shower for the first time in nearly a month, she felt like she could conquer the world all because she showered, washed her hair and shaved.
Then she accepted the divorce. She accepted that she was no longer someone’s wife, she even (more dramatically) accepted that she’d be single for the rest of her life. With the help from Linda she accepted that Bucky’s affair was not her fault.
~~~
It had now been two years since they were officially divorced.
Y/n made a friend at work, Peggy. Beautiful, kind and the sweetest person. She had set her up with Steve to help him get himself back out there, they’d been dating for nearly a year. Y/n couldn’t believe how much happier he looked now, she was happy for him truly she was. She believed he deserved it.
Dating for her was, well….
“You’re absolutely glowing ангел” Nat whistled as Y/n walked into the kitchen.
“Stop flirting with me”
“I can’t help it милая девушка”
“Sam come and get your wife!”
“What’s going on?” Sam asks coming to where the women were, placing a kiss on Y/n’s temple then giving Nat a quick kiss.
“Your wife keeps flirting with me”
Wiggling his eyebrows “well things can be arranged”
“Samuel!” Both women scold him but shortly after burst out laughing.
“No but I was telling her that she was glowing” Nat informed.
“You are, you seem happier as well” Sam agreed.
“Well… ikindofmetsomeone”
“What!” Both Sam and Nat shout in unison.
“I met someone..”
“Who?” When? Where? How?” Y/n rolled her eyes at the pair talking in tandem.
“His name is Ari. I literally bumped into after I ran out of the cafe after setting Steve and Peggy up on their date”.
“Is he good to you?”
“Yeah, and he’s great with the kids”
“Wait…he’s met the kids?”
“Yeah it was an accident, James said he couldn’t take the kids because of work and Ari came to pick me up for our date but ended up staying at mine. The kids love him”.
“I can’t wait to meet him!” Nat smiles.
~~~
Bucky hadn’t seen Sharon after he left the next morning, he felt ashamed and guilty for sleeping with her. For some bizarre reason he thought it would be a great idea to go to Nat and Sam’s to talk to Steve.
“Absolutely not. You’re not coming in Buck”
“Please Sam I know he’s here, I jus- I just need to talk to him”
“About what? Jesus Bucky you were having an affair with his wife!”
“I know I just need to apologise” He heard movement behind Sam, when he saw Steve’s pained expression his heart sank.
“I don’t want to hear any apologies. But you will listen to me.” Steve gives Sam a small nod, stepped further out of the doorway. “I have known you since we were kids and not once have I ever not trusted you. Not once have an ever wanted to punch you as much as right now. But.. but I’m not going to, it’s not worth it. You betrayed me man! You knew how much I loved her! And there’s Y/n, you had this perfect woman and you cheated on her!” Slightly shaking his head “you-you had the perfect family and you fucked it up by fucking my wife! I was always jealous of you, did you know that? Sharon never wanted kids so when you told me Y/n was pregnant I was jealous. You two had this perfect relationship whilst me and her were arguing all the time, I was jealous” swallowing hard and taking a deep breath “but you see James as much as I wanted the life you had I would of never and I mean never of done what you have done!”
Bucky stands there with tears rolling down his cheeks, wanting to say something but the words just wouldn’t come out.
“You know when Y/n told me about the affair she couldn’t stop apologising, couldn’t stop crying, she even puked up. I had to calm your wife down trying to reassure her that what you did wasn’t her fault! And where were you huh? Screwing my wife!” Chuckling lightly to himself. “Me and Y/n deserve so much better than you two. I really hope it was worth it James because I can’t forgive you. And the fact you have the audacity to come here after spending the night with Sharon just proves how little you care” when he sees Bucky’s eyebrow twitch in confusion he laughs “I really can’t see Y/n giving you a hickey after she’s told your sorry ass she’s divorcing you. Goodbye James it was nice knowing you”.
Y/n was right, he was alone. He had no one in his corner. Going through the divorce process was difficult for him, like she said she wasn’t going to take anything from him. Custody had been split between them evenly as agreed. The part he was struggling with was, only being able to see her at the weekends, their conversations was just about the kids nothing more nothing less.
Then Sam started to do drop offs and pick up leaving him completely crushed. He no longer got to see her even if it was for 10 or if he was really lucky 15 minutes. The friendship he had with Sam and Nat became strained, he didn’t blame them. He did miss them though.
To deal with the loss of his marriage he turned to drinking. Sometimes he would come home from the bar and call out for Y/n, cry when he got no response, 9 out of 10 times he’d fall over and then fall asleep on the floor.
Then that dreaded day came.
Sam had long gone after dropping the kids off, he was in the middle of cooking dinner with his oldest talking about school when he heard a name he hasn’t heard before.
“Sweetheart what was that?”
“Me and Tommy and Billy are now best friends they’re new to school”
“I’m glad but not that bit baby, you said someone helped you with your homework?”
“Oh Ari, he helps me he’s so clever daddy”
“Who’s Ari?”
“Mommy’s new friend. We saw them kissing” giggling when her younger brother pulls a disgusting face.
Of course he knew that it would happen, her dating. Of course she would, she had every right to find happiness and love after he destroyed that for her. Any man would be lucky enough to be with her - she’s funny, beautiful, loving, kind and passionate, the list goes on - he should know, he was once that lucky man before he fucked it all up.
The knowledge of his now ex-wife is dating again broke something inside of him. What? He doesn’t quite know, he shouldn’t have felt anything other than happiness for her.
~~~
It was their son’s birthday party today, the squeals of close to 30 children running around the backyard full of sugar could be heard from down the street, most of their little faces decorated with face paint.
The birthday boy was currently bouncing around on the dinosaur themed bouncy castle - that he just had to have - after laying on the grass for 10 minutes complaining he was ill. Their oldest daughter was walking around showing the adults her butterfly wings that went with the butterfly paint on her face.
Y/n was rushing around making sure everything was okay and running smoothly as well and making sure everyone was having a good time. Bucky thought she looked absolutely breath taking in the white floral dress and white pumps. Her hair was up in two fishtail braids, just like his daughter.
It was the first time in two years that he saw Steve - like Y/n he looked happier, healthier, freer. The woman that was placed snuggly under his arm was beautiful and when Bucky noticed Steve’s hand position when talking to Sam he saw the pregnancy bump, Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his former best friend finally getting his dream of being a dad.
The cheerful scream pulled his eyes away from Steve to his daughter who was running past him heading towards the sliding glass doors. A tall, well-built man stood at the doorway with a huge smile on his face.
“Ari Ari - look mommy Ari’s here”
“I can see that sweetie-“
He started to struggle to breath, his own daughter was more happier to see this Ari guy than him, the smile that lit up Y/n’s beautiful face crushed him. Then it got worse for him. He watched as his former best friend go up to Ari and greeted him in the same way them two use to great each other.
~~~
Going back to the once lively and warm house that he once called home the realisation of how truly alone Bucky was, was a tough pill for him to swallow.
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~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~
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clusterbuck · 1 month
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like a ship on the ocean
7x03 coda
Buck watches Bobby and Athena run towards each other, and something catches in his throat. 
The moment belongs at the end of a movie, feels like it should be accompanied by sweeping orchestral music. In his mind’s eye, Buck sees it in dramatic slow motion.
But that isn’t what makes Buck pause with one hand still on the staircase rail.
It makes him wonder, is all. It’s one hell of a yardstick, and suddenly he isn’t sure if anything he’s ever had would measure up.
Bobby hadn’t gone into details on the chopper, not in front of the kid, but the little he’d said sounded intense. And it sounded like he and Athena had each other’s backs every step of the way.
And that’s really the part Buck gets stuck on, because—
He’s had his share of relationships, and they’d been good while they’d lasted. But even at their best, Buck doesn’t know if he’d have trusted them to save a handful of people trapped on a capsized cruise ship with him.
He’s drifted over to the railing by now, and he leans against it, staring out at the open ocean. Though it’s really only the open ocean if he looks a little to the left—otherwise his field of vision is full of other lifeboats, full of bedraggeled passengers holding onto each other, grief and relief both stark against the bright blue sky. 
Maybe he’s being unfair, he thinks. Bobby and Athena are both trained first responders with decades of experience under their belts. They were better equipped to handle the situation than just about anyone else.
Maybe it’s the kind of thing you can’t know about someone until it actually happens.
But maybe—
Someone materialises by his side, another pair of forearms braced against the railing, and Buck doesn’t have to turn his head to know who it is.
“What’s up?” Eddie asks. 
“You know how sometimes when you talk to people from, like, functional families, they’ll say their ideal relationship would be just like their parents’ marriage?” Buck asks, still searching the whitecaps.
“I—don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say that.” 
“It’s a thing,” Buck insists, the slightest edge of a laugh in his voice. “I swear I’ve heard people say it before.”
“Okay, sure,” Eddie says. “I’m guessing we’re not talking about your parents?” 
“Is it weird if I’m pretty sure my ideal relationship is Bobby and Athena’s marriage?” Buck asks. He turns to look and finds Eddie blinking.
“Your ideal relationship features a honeymoon interrupted by pirates and a cat five hurricane?” Eddie asks, quirking an eyebrow.
Buck huffs. “No, that part I can live without. I just mean—how many people would you trust to get you out of something like this? That’s what I want in a partner.” 
“So, what, you gonna audition new girlfriends by bringing them on a cruise?” 
“Again, the cruise ship isn’t really the key part here,” Buck says, rolling his eyes. “And it’s not like every ship gets hijacked and blown up.”
“Slight flaw in the plan.”
“Yeah, it’s bulletproof otherwise,” Buck says, and Eddie snorts.
“So no cruises,” he says. “Then what?” 
“I mean, I don’t think it’s something you can really test for,” Buck says. “I guess there just has to be a vibe.” 
Eddie hums, staring out at the ocean. “Have you had that vibe?” he asks after a moment. “You know, before?” 
“I don’t know,” Buck says on a sigh. “Feels hard to evaluate after the fact, you know? Like—memories always look better after a little time, right?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says. “I guess they do.” 
“What about—” Buck gestures at him. “Marisol? Would she get you off a sinking cruise ship?” 
“Too soon to tell, I think,” Eddie says.
Buck bites his tongue against the urge to point out it’s been months already, and every time the subject comes up Eddie keeps hedging like it’s only been a couple of dates. 
He hesitates, careful about choosing his words. “Or maybe the fact that you can’t tell is the vibe?” he asks, and Eddie sighs.
“Yeah,” he says, eyes fixed on the horizon. “Maybe.”
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heavenlyvision · 12 days
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reverence pairing: bi-han/reader wc: 1.1k warnings: 18+ only, smut, cunnilingus, kind of angsty but not really, afab!gn!reader, no pronouns or y/n used a/n; this was gonna be only horny but then i listened to too many sad songs and now it has the vibes of two very in love people with unspoken feelings... my bad ! <33 MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT
It’s early in the morning when you wake, Bi-Han moving around the room, dressing himself for the day has woken you up. He tries to be quiet – and he is – but you’ve developed a keen sense for when he’s trying to leave without bothering you.
Making grabby hands at him, you coax him over, wanting for him to say goodbye properly, he rolls his eyes but obliges and wanders over to you, “Why do I even bother trying to be quiet in the morning?” He sits on the edge of the mattress and leans down to you as you lean up.
Smiling at him, you answer, “I’ve no clue.”
He huffs but pulls you in and holds you close, his large hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back, “I shouldn’t be gone long…”
“…You always say that,” your sleepy voice murmurs against him.
He knows you’re right but he can’t help it, he means it every time he says it though and you know that much. There aren’t any words he can offer you right now, so instead, he tucks his head into your neck and presses soft kisses against your skin. His lips trailing the expanse of your neck, your head dips back to give him more room. They start off innocent, light, a show of affection more than anything else, but he can’t help himself and ends up nipping at your skin, the blunt feel of his teeth pulls a shudder from you, one that Bi-Han relishes in.
Soft sighs pass your lips as he leaves a trail of wet marks, reminders of where he’s been, taking his time with you despite his presence being required elsewhere. Slowly, he makes his way to your face and gently pecks both your cheeks before eventually pressing his lips to yours, his kiss consuming and deep. The words he can’t speak shared in this moment together, all of his feelings for you, his borderline reverence for you, it’s all here, in how he cradles you, in how he kisses you. He’s everything to you and you’re everything to him, you’ve never doubted that.
It's moments like this where you remember why you stay, you stay even when he infuriates you, even when he leaves without saying goodbye, even when he makes decisions you can’t begin to understand. You stay through it all because in moments like this, he reminds you just how much he–
“I revere you,” his forehead rests on yours, his words shock you sightly. Not the content but the suddenness.
You try playing off his abrupt admission, huffing a slight laugh, “Where is Bi-Han and what have you done with him?”
He frowns, “I’m serious.”
As happy as his words make you, they also make you uneasy, “…I know that...”
“My feelings will never change,” he mumbles softly, his lips trailing the side of your face.
“Never?” you whisper in question.
“Never.” He confirms.
His hands wander, exploring your body, slipping under your pyjamas, pulling at your skin and tugging at your clothes. He silently guides you to lay down, shuffling himself back, he takes your pants off and chucks them to some corner of the room. Looking into your eyes, he checks with you, you feel especially vulnerable right now, this moment feels different from any other time before.
Opening your thighs for him, he takes his place between your legs and turns his face to the side, beginning to mark your skin. His pace is slow and reminiscent of worship, his focus completely on where he is right now, never on where he’s going to be next. You don’t whine, you don’t ask him to move, you don’t rush him.
You feel dizzy and light, like you’re drifting as he does as he pleases. His lips are forgiving and undemanding, his tongue wet and adoring. Making his way to your underwear, he presses his face to your core, nosing at your centre. He mouths at your panties, wetting them, licking at you through the material.
Small noises leave you, sighs and bitten back moans, his hand presses into your stomach, holding you down, stopping you from wriggling away from him. Your panties are wet from your arousal and his insistent mouth. The material sticks to your cunt embarrassingly, it doesn’t stop Bi-Han though, he moves both his hands to spread your pussy lips with his thumbs, opening you up from under your panties, and then he goes back to licking at you through them.
The stimulation of your wet underwear rubbing against your clit has your stomach doing flips, your mind not able to concentrate on anything other than how good it feels. He prods his tongue at your pussy hole, meeting resistance and pushing his face in between your legs impossibly closer.
You don’t ask him for more, you don’t ask for anything, you’re pliable and absent, happy to lay here and be worshiped by his mouth. But he’s lost in you, in everything about you, your scent, your taste, your small sighs of pleasure, your willingness, the softness of your thighs beside his ears, in all honesty he isn’t actively thinking anything other than you, only you. Only ever, you.
Needing more from you though, he slips your panties off, finally sick enough of there hinderance to remove them completely. He resumes his position between your legs quickly, missing the warmth of you almost immediately. The feeling of his tongue on you feels sharp, in comparison to the dull pleasure you were receiving beforehand, this feels direct and overwhelming, almost overstimulating.
He doesn’t stop as you wiggle more insistently, just wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you open, not letting you go anywhere. Lapping at your cunt happily, his tongue reverent in its exploration. Your hands tug at the sheets, fingers almost hurting from the grip you have on them, your eyes closed tight against the pleasure running through your bones.
Your thighs shake either side his head, your eyes dazed and thoughts hazy, thoughts filled with him, of your devotion to him. You twitch in his hold, your cunt pulsing with your impending orgasm, a noise rumbles through him, like he’s delighted by your approaching end. Every muscle pulls tight as you cum, a supressed whimper leaving you with it, your head thrown back into the pillows. If you had the ability to, you would be grinding down onto his face but he holds you still and swallows your release, licking at you as you come down. The slurping noises that come from him make your skin hot to the touch.
He stays between your thighs for a few moments after, relishing in your heat, your warmth. But all at once he seems to become cognizant of the fact he’s meant to be elsewhere right about now and crawls up your body to look into your eyes.
“I am devoted to you, wholly, I will always come home,” he promises.
₊˚◦⋆❆⋆◦˚₊
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theminecraftbee · 3 months
Text
Joel stares at the ceiling. It’s sure a hospital ceiling alright. Grey tiles, fluorescent lights, a steady beep in the background. Great. He’s in the hospital his first day in town. He’s sure that bodes well for the future of his time in Hermiton, truly. What had he been saying to himself before he arrived? That he just had to survive one more year of high school and then he could go be a hermit in the woods or at least pass his exams to get that architecture degree he used to dream about.
“Oh, you’re awake! You’re the last to wake up. It’s just exhaustion, don’t worry. That always happens the first few times you summon your Persona. Your body gets used to it and stops trying to force you into the ground the moment you enter Real Space again eventually.”
He tries very hard not to groan out loud. If he doesn’t move or make any noise, maybe the weird guy won’t notice he’s awake. Maybe he’ll go away and like, whatever adult in town is currently supposed to be in charge of him will show up and sign some paperwork and Joel can leave.
There’s a long, awkward silence.
“You know, I can tell you’re awake. I already said so,” the stranger says.
“Shut up, I’m trying to make you go away,” Joel says.
The stranger snorts. “What, you don’t want information on your two friends you apparently risked your life to save?”
Joel… would kind of like that information, actually, but he’s not just going to say so.
“It’s not like I know them. I’ve been here five days. Idiot,” Joel says.
“I don’t know. Seems a lot like you know them,” the stranger says. “You’ll probably get to know them even more soon, after we do an assessment to make sure it’s safe for you all to enter Altered Space. It’s just been me and Scar for so long, I didn’t think other Persona users would ever show up!”
“What,” Joel says. “I don’t believe in Personas. They’re stupid. I was lucid dreaming. This is stupid.”
“Can’t you still hear yours? I think I’d go insane if I stopped.”
Yes.
“No.”
“Well then, maybe you’re the weak one. A strong Persona user would definitely still hear their Persona,” the stranger says, and look man, Joel doesn’t want to be doing this, but he can’t let ‘maybe you’re the weak one’ stand. It’s a matter of honor. Of pride.
“No, buzz off. I’m the strong one. I didn’t just awaken Pygmalion, I kicked ass using Pygmalion. Stupid Skizz and Impulse passed out immediately. And I was the only one who knew how to get to Skizz so, so, screw you, I’m super strong with your fake brain ghost thing.”
The stranger is quiet for a long moment. “Did you say you knew how to get to Skizz?”
“Yeah you just follow the evil butterflies. You should know, since you’re crazy,” Joel says.
“Oh my god,” the stranger says. “Oh my god. This changes everything.”
Something sinks in Joel’s stomach. “Wait, what does that—”
“I have to go tell Mr. Hills. Meet us when you get out of here, a doctor should let you out once you’re awake! But I have to tell him! Being able to preemptively find entrances to Altered Space! Fighting off a shadow and rescuing people your first time summoning a Persona! Me and Scar won’t have to be alone anymore!”
“No, I, uh, was lying, stop that,” Joel says unconvincingly.
“See you!” the stranger says.
“You forgot to tell me what happened to Skizz,” Joel says, finally sitting up to try to stop the stranger, but it’s too late. He’s already gone. Joel stares blankly after the space where he’d once been.
“You also forgot to tell me your name, you moron,” Joel says weakly.
He buries his head in his hands, breathes, and calls the nurse. If his strange classmate isn’t going to tell him what’s actually happening, then Joel’s going to find out for himself.
(Power throbs beneath a scar on his hand. A voice whispers agreeing remarks in the back of his head. He has way too many aches and pangs for last night—or, well, however many nights ago it was now—to be fake. But for now, he just wants to know Skizz is okay and go back to his stupid apartment and pretend none of this happened. Is that too much to ask?)
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