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ramp-it-up · 10 months

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Party Games

Summary: You want it bad.

Pairing: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2K

A/N: This wasn’t the kink y’all picked, but here we are. It’s two am. 🥴 Hope you enjoy! You can read this as a companion piece to That Face.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Reader is owning her sexuality. This is about a nal s ex and it’s enjoyment. Allusions to past acts and partners. A teeny bit of angst, but mostly pwp. Bucky has turned reader out but he’s sprung. Drinking, bathroom s ex, mirror s ex, rough s ex, (but Bucky’s so sweet), oral s ex (f receiving), a nal, praise/degradation kink, allusion to group s ex if you squint. Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

I don’t have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post!

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

You were having fun at game night. Until the bottle pointed Bucky’s way.

Then the fun turned into need.

“Choose anyone here to do anything with.”

“That’s easy,” Nat laughed as she rolled her eyes.

“No. I’ll give James a pass. He can go with anyone he’d like.”

You were confident of your man.

Bucky’s face lit up.

“Really Doll?”

You hesitated. You didn’t like the way he jumped at that chance. Curse your mouth that ran ahead of your brain when you were tipsy.

You fixed your face as Steve smirked at you two and took a swig of his beer.

“Really James. Live your fantasy.”

Your voice was less confident now.

You held your smile as Bucky grinned and rubbed his hands together, looking around his circle of friends.

He could choose any one of these beautiful people. You'd heard tales of how wild it got with them being in the field before you got together, and even of him and Steve, years ago.

‘Adolescent exploration,’ Bucky had called it.

You lowered your head and braced yourself as you felt him stand up. You didn’t want to see who he chose. You listened, on alert, to the sound of his shoes as he went toward the bedroom door. He stopped, presumably to make his choice.

“Get that ass in here, y/n.”

You gasped and looked behind you to see that Bucky was grinning at you. Everyone started laughing when you got up and skipped toward him.

Bucky pulled you through the bedroom to the bathroom, making sure to close both doors for extra privacy. He chuckled at you.

“How could you even think I’d choose someone else, Doll. You know you’re my one and only.”

You nodded and allowed him to pull you into his arms.

“I know. You know how I get when I drink. I get loose. Create scenarios.”

You shrugged as you smiled up at Bucky, causing his heart to skip a beat.

“You’ve had three beers, Doll. I was counting.”

“You were watching me?”

You angled your neck back as Bucky started licking your pulse point. It was a done deal that you were gonna let him fuck you in your en suite with your friends in the other room.

The question was how.

“Like a hawk, Doll. Was gonna suggest you stop after three. Need you to be sober enough to let me in. You’re a tight fit.”

Bucky’s hand was palming your cunt over your jeans and you ground yourself into the warm metal.

“It’s because you’re so big, James.”

You smirked at him.

“But how much tighter is my ass tho?”

Bucky stopped, pulled back and looked at you, eyes blazing and jaw clenching.

“Fuck. Doll. You want me to fuck ypu like that? Right now?”

Bucky licked his lips, exactly like you imagined the big bad wolf would before he tore you apart.

You whined in anticipation, your core flooding with slick. You whispered your reply to him.

“Yes, Bucky. Please. I- I’ve been thinking about the last time since the last time and I- I need it.”

You reached for him and started unbuckling his belt, a fiend.

Bucky closed his eyes as you went inside his pants and started to stroke him. He was thinking about how you wanted him to fuck you and the way it had you stuttering.

“Please, James. Pretty please?”

When he opened his eyes again, you licked your lips and pouted. How could you be begging for something so filthy yet be so adorable?

His dream girl.

Bucky panted while you handled him, your hand barely closing around his stiff, aching cock.

“Doll…I…”

You watched Bucky’s eyes dilate as he opened his mouth to breathe and you continued to stroke him. The way that you were licking your lips and looking him in the eye made Bucky realize that he was the one that taught you to be bold.

“I’m such a fucking slut for this cock. Want it in my ass, Daddy.”

“Jesus.”

You had Bucky shook. And he admired the monster he’d made.

“Yes, James. Make me your fuck doll. You know what you’ve done to me.”

And it was true.

Bucky Barnes had ruined you.

Turned you out.

Reduced you to a dripping, quivering, distracted mess whenever you thought about it.

You wanted him to do that sweet, dark, feral thing all the time.

All the time.

Something about being impaled on his pretty, hard, huge cock, stretched to your limits, feeling pleasure that was just on the razor's edge of pain and pleasure that had you hooked.

Oh, and when Bucky led you over that edge into that intense pleasure …

God.. you were addicted to it.

That first time, he was gentle, oh so gentle. And, as he promised, he’d made it feel oh so good.

Bucky teased you, pleased you, coaxed you, ate you, stretched you, lubed you, then eased into you so slowly and sweetly that you were on cloud nine the entire time.

And you’d cum harder than you ever had before.

Then Bucky took care of you with a hot bath, food, water, and rest.

The more you did the deed, the more wanton you were for it. You moved, arched, grabbed, and begged for it.

Tonight, the added bonus of people a few feet away had you heated, glowing hot.

And Bucky was like a moth to a flame.

He took you by the waist and brought his mouth to yours, making you open for him in this way first, wanting the tenderness on your lips at the moment. He backed you up to the sink, and left you breathless as he drew away, opening the medicine cabinet.

You were looking down at Bucky’s cock playing peekaboo in your hand as he searched behind you. You looked up when he suddenly exclaimed.

“Ah HA!”

Bucky brought a brand new bottle of lube around in front of you and your heart started beating double time.

Setting the lube down on the counter, Bucky reached for the button on your jeans, sliding your zipper down. His thick, metal index finger traced the slit in your panties, divining your wetness.

“How long were you thinking about this today? Hmmmmm?”

Bucky looked down on you possessively, demanding an account of your intimate thoughts. He took in the lust on your face and reveled in the fact that you really wanted this. His mouth descended toward yours before you had a chance to answer.

Bucky loved making love to you, fucking you, taking you apart and putting you back together. But this kind of connection was the most intimate to him.

It was not just because it felt amazing being inside your delicate, snug walls, but because this uncharted territory yielded just for him. Bucky was not into virginity as a concept, but damn, knowing that he’d made you into this brazen, begging goddess, that you’d let him into a place so sacred to you rendered him a slave to your pleasure, which he could tell was intense.

Bucky turned you around so that you faced the mirror and he pulled up your tank top, exposing your breasts to the bright bathroom light.

“You wore this with no bra on purpose, didn’t you?”

Bucky just stared at your chest instead of touching like you wanted him to, expecting an answer as he pressed his black-jeaned bulge against your ass.

“Yes, James.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he lowered his lips to your neck while his hands came up and played with your nipples, slowly and tenderly circling your areolas. You arched into his hands; you wanted it rough.

The sound you made when he started pulling was everything.

“Eyes open. Watch what I do to you.”

You watched Bucky watch your face and your open mouthed breathing.

When your eyes connected he said, “Good girl.”

You turned your head and kissed him before he grabbed your open jeans and pulled them down your body, kneeling behind you as he took them off.

Bucky sat back on his haunches and looked at you, running his hands up and down your thighs, grabbing your ass and admiring your anatomy.

“So gotdamn beautiful, Doll.”

You shivered as he started kissing your legs, and soon, but not soon enough, licking into your heat.

Bucky’s moans as he participated in his fine dining was enough to make you cum, or maybe it was the anticipation.

It didn’t matter, because by the time he stood up and told you to, “Bend over, Doll,” your knees were already weak.

You watched Bucky tear the plastic off the bottle of lube with his teeth, plucking your own nipples now.

“You ready?”

It was a purely rhetorical question as you moaned in response.

Bucky watched in awe as the cool lube dripped onto your ass and you arched to meet it. A thick metal middle finger quickly warmed both the liquid and you. You let him fuck you there digitally until you begged for him.

“Need you James…please!”

Bucky grunted, reaching around for your clit again.

“Give me one more, Doll.”

His human hand was magic as he worked you from both front and back. Once he had what he wanted, he pulled back to take off his pants and looked down at his prize.

“Shirt too, please.”

He couldn’t deny your look in the mirror; Bucky loved how you loved his body completely.

Finally, he was teasing your tight hole with his cock, sparking electricity and rivulets of slick in your core. You could tell he was holding back because his jaw was clenched and his movements were tentative.

When you bent down and pushed back onto him was when his eyes rolled and you saw his head hang back on his shoulders.

“Holy mother of…. Damn, Doll.”

Soon his eyes were back on yours in the mirror as you fucked yourself back on him.

“Remember when I had to beg you to fuck this sweet ass, Doll?”

Bucky looked down at his thick cock breaching your tight hole. Then he pulled you upright and flush against him for control, one hand around your neck and the other in your cunt as he pounded inside your tightness.

Bucky searched your glazed expression in the mirror, your head lolled back against his flesh shoulder as you rode his cock and his metal hand. Three of his warm, vibrating metal fingers were deep inside your cunt as he slowly fucked your puckered hole.

“Now you beg me.”

“Hmmm. Ummm hmmmm.”

You nodded, mouth open for air as you let the pleasure take over you.

“You really are all mine, aren’t you?”

“Yesss Jamesssss…Ohhhhh yesss.”

The third orgasm while he was buried in you made Bucky wild, and he started pumping in earnest, keenly tuned into your sounds for any sign of discomfort. All you felt was his thick dick pulling and dragging inside the most sensitive parts of you.

And pure rapture.

“I can take it. Give it please!”

At that point Bucky had to stop, and pulled your head up as he whispered in your ear. You could feel his huge cock pumping in time with his heartbeat inside you.

“My beautiful complete cock slut. Such a good fucking girl for me.”

They way he bared his teeth as he snarled it in your ear caused you to spasm again as he fully wrecked you now, pumping voluminous amounts of cum inside you.

“Holy fuck!”

Bucky bit down on your shoulder as you laughed, still impaled on his softening cock. You curled your legs up as he carried you over to the shower and turned it on, him finally releasing you to kiss you thoroughly against the shower wall.

“We’re being rude to our guests, Bucky.”

“Wanna invite them to join us?”

You smirked as you turned around and Bucky started washing your back.

“I draw the line at those party games.”

“Me too,” Bucky smirked, “you’re all mine, Doll.”

“Now let me clean you up…”

And Bucky’s hand was between your legs…

As always: If you liked it, please reblog.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x black female reader #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #beefy bucky #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader smut #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky smut #beefy boyfriend Bucky Barnes

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tangyangie · 1 year

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karma general dating headcanons!

— first of all.. he definitely teases you. way more than anyone else. like, if him teasing the class was a 10 on the scale, you'd be a 26.

— he likes to poke you. there's no specific reason, you're just so.. pokeable. he likes to see your skin smush beneath his finger as you face slowly gets more annoyed. he will stop eventually, if you ask him to.

— he likes to buy you things. he will get you gifts that you've only mentioned once before, as a general thought. it's honestly baffling how closely he listens to what you say.

— he learns as much as possible about your tastes. you like a certain music artist? he's memorized the discography in one day. if he sees you browsing a site on how to make a certain dish? he learns how to cook it on the way to the grocery store to get the ingredients.

— he gives you massages. he notices how tense you may get, and wants to relieve this pressure. but, if you make any noise at all, he'll tease the shit out of you. be prepared.

— he does your schoolwork for you. if you forgot to do an assignment right before class, he'll write down the answers as fast as he possibly can. although korosensei probably wouldn't get too angry, you'd rather not deal with the speech.

— he loves to kiss you. a lot. he will completely engulf your face with his lips, all leading up to a final kiss on the lips and a tap on your nose. he constantly amuses you with this predictable pattern. -- one time, you decided to dodge the final kiss, and he acted so offended. he got back at you, though. you didn't escape him that time.

— he's a very light sleeper. if you move at all, he's waking up. just getting up to get a glass of water will make him jerk awake like the earth is destroying itself underneath his feet. you apologize every time, but no amount of sleeping aids helps.

— he initiates a lot of pillow fights. you say something with a little too much of a teasing smile, and he'll get you back by smothering you with a fluffy pillow. you laugh from underneath, but he'll only grab more to destroy you (with love) until you surrender.

— he makes fun of the characters in movies. you watch a horror movie, and he'll be yelling at the screen for the character not to go back to the door, how stupid they're being, and how he'd totally be able to survive whatever the phenomenon is.

— he's the least clumsy person you'll ever meet. he could probably carry ten gallons of water in paint buckets all stacked over each other on his head for 3 miles, and there would be absolutely no drop spilled.

— he likes to take you on fun dates. you'll both find an old park with a tire swing, and you'll hang out there every day eating oranges while hanging upside down on the monkey bars.

— he's a drama queen. he'll fall backwards theatrically with the back of his hand on his forehead and gracefully land on the grass. all of this because you refused to skip class with him.

— he's extremely protective. i don't think i need to mention this, but if he hears that anyone even laid a finger on you, he'll go pay them a friendly visit. they won't be coming to school for at least a week.

— he steals blankets. although it's mostly when he sleeps, he does it when he's awake, too. you're freezing your ass off? not his problem. (part of him wants you to cuddle up to him and beg him to wrap his arm around you.)

notes: this was so much fun to make!! i need to make more headcanons of random people who i'm thinking of atm..

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juniperskye · 6 months

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Without You

Sneak Peek: Aaron and you have been dating for over a year now…the thing is, the BAU team has no idea. When Aaron does something reckless that could cost him his life, will you expose the relationship you have worked so hard to keep under wraps?

Aaron Hotchner x BAU Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 2371

Warnings: One use of y/n, age gap, mentions of anxiety/anxiety attack, some language, canon typical violence, mentions of death, explosion, BAU case details (similar to those of s7e23), severe emotional pain, mentions of Haley’s death, mention of Jack, secret relationship, JJ is still the media liaison (it just fit better for the plot) if I missed any – let me know!

Not edited - please be kind.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Aaron Hotchner had very quickly become your best friend. Your friendship had come so naturally, despite a pretty significant age gap. After two years of what could only be described as painfully obvious yearning from both parties, Aaron finally gained the courage to ask you to dinner. Even though it took two weeks before you could actually act on that invitation, the date had gone better than expected. Aaron had been a perfect gentleman; bringing you flowers, opening your door, holding your hand, paying for your meal, actually listening when you spoke.

That’s why it had been so easy to fall in love with him. Things with Aaron truly had been effortless, falling into a comfortable routine in which you would drive to his place after work, relieve the babysitter, get Jack started on homework while you got dinner going. Since meeting Jack, back before you’d even begun dating Aaron, you were one of his favorite people. You had spoiled Jack since you’d met the boy, he was just so sweet, and he’d reminded you of your nephews…it was easy to spend time with him. Aaron would come home to Jack helping set the table and you plating up the food. He’d wrap you up in an embrace and the three of you would sit and enjoy your meal while discussing how your days went (mostly Jack talking about school).

The one thing in your relationship that had not been effortless was keeping it a secret from your team. There had already been much speculation as to whether or not Aaron and you had feelings for one another amongst the agents. Dave was the one who pestered Aaron the most, constantly encouraging him to take a chance on love, that it wouldn’t always end like it had with Haley. In your case it had been Penelope, she and you had grown close over your time at the BAU, and she could see the tell-tale signs of a blossoming crush for your superior.

The two of you hadn’t initially planned to hide your relationship, but after many late-night conversations about it and a lengthy pros and cons list, you had determined, for the time being, keeping things quiet was the best option. That was nearly eleven months ago. You and Aaron had been together for about a year and a half, living together for four months…things had not been easy. You guys had to work hard to keep your feelings at bay on tough missions. There had been an instance of you getting stabbed by an unsub, thankfully the wound was superficial, and you were fine, but it had taken everything in Aaron not to run to you and take you into his arms. That was one of many hardships you had faced, but none of those would have prepared you for today.

A call had come in to the BAU at 9:53 am. The call rang to Aaron’s direct line, which meant it was a time sensitive case, usually a child abduction or in this case, a hostage situation. Aaron came out of his office swiftly, calling everyone’s attention without even speaking.

“There is a hostage situation at First Union bank. We’ve been called in by Virgina PD, who is already on the scene and SWAT is currently on their way as well. Everyone needs to gather their things and head to the garage” Aaron gave his orders, and everyone sprang into action.

As you all made your way to the government issued SUVs, Aaron continued briefing everyone and he gave out assignments.

“Alright Garcia and Reid, I want you two in the mobile command unit digging into our unsubs, we need to identify them. JJ, I need you to control the media with this, I don’t want any details getting out without my approval. Morgan and Prentiss go check in with SWAT and go over our plan. Y/N and Dave you will take point on the negotiations. Understood?” Aaron looked to everyone for confirmation.

There were collective nods, and everyone went to their separate posts to get started. You and Dave made your way over to one of the command center tents, discussing with the officers there that you would be in charge of the negotiations. They filled you in on what had happened thus far, and you worked to devise your initial approach. Dave and you had made contact with the unsubs, they were demanding a helicopter and one million dollars (a truly ridiculous request on their part). Approximately fifteen minutes later, Garcia and Reid rushed to where you, Dave and Aaron were standing.

“We have identified the unsubs! The two men are brothers, Michael and James Snyder. They are connected to at least eight other bank robberies around the northeastern United Staes. The woman, her name is Katiya Kuznetsov she is not connected to the robberies, but she is flagged under the FBI’s most wanted. She’s thought to be the mastermind behind dozens of explosions in North America from the last nine months.” Garcia explained. Aaron radioed to request the bomb squad.

“Why would she be working with these two? Robbing banks isn’t quite the same M.O. as blowing up buildings.” You questioned.

“We looked into it, and it seems that she may have connections to someone who owns a safety deposit box at this bank. We don’t know what is in it, but we were able to narrow down the list of potentials.” Reid answered.

“This changes things, we need to get in there and apprehend them. We need to get the civilians out. I think our best option would be for us to breach with SWAT and local PD.” Aaron explained.

“Hotch, that seems a little drastic don’t you think? If we just barge in there, who’s to say they don’t just start shooting the hostages. Dave and I were making progress and now that we know who they are, perhaps we can get them to break.” You could feel your anxiety eating away at you, the thought of Aaron barging in there terrified you.

“Sorry kid, but I’m with Aaron on this one. We were making some progress, but not enough and given this new information, I think it is safe to assume that there is probably a bomb in the bank somewhere, the sooner we get the hostages out, the better.” Rossi shut your idea down.

You could feel the bile rising up your throat. Your palms were starting to sweat and your pulse quickening. You knew what was about to happen, Aaron was going to give out assignments which meant he was diving headfirst into danger while he ensured your safety.

“Alright here’s what we will do, Morgan and I will go in the front, try to talk the unsubs down. Prentiss and Reid you will go through the back, with SWAT and the bomb squad try to locate the explosive and disable it. Garcia, I want you to keep eyes inside the bank the whole time, keep us posted of everything you see through comms. Dave and you can stay out here and monitor the phones, I want you to call in to distract them while we enter, I think it might buy us some leeway.” Aaron gave the assignments.

You gave Aaron a pointed look, one that expressed all of your nerves and anxiety. He looked back at you, it was stern as far as any onlooker could tell, but you could see the softness flash across his features. He was silently telling you that everything would be okay, and for a moment, you believed that it would be.

Time seemed to slow then. Everyone was moving, following orders hastily. But you, you were glued to your spot…Dave’s hand on your shoulder is what finally snapped you out of your thoughts.

“He’ll be okay kid.” Dave tried to soothe your nerves.

You called into the bank to try and steal the attention of the unsubs as Aaron had requested, all the while agents were moving through the bank. Suddenly Garcia’s voice rang over the comms.

“One of the unsubs slipped away. I’m assuming to get to the explosive. I am working to get the blueprints of the bank so we can figure out where it is set up.” Garcia rushed.

Gunshots echoed through the air, the comms were buzzing with shouts from Aaron, Morgan, Prentiss, Dave and some other voices you couldn’t pin down.

The fact that you could hear Aaron’s voice helped to calm your nerves as he clearly hadn’t been shot. His next words soothed your mind even more so.

“We have Michael and James in custody, Morgan is walking the hostages out now. I am going to go and assist the others in finding Katiya and the explosive.” Aaron called over the comms.

Dave could see you tense at Aaron’s words; he once again laid his hand on your shoulder in hopes to ease your mind. Morgan walked over to you and Dave after placing the unsubs in the police cars that were standing by.

What happened next brought your world crashing down.

The silence over the comms had been eerie. Everything paused and then it happened. The bank had exploded, right before your eyes. You had been far enough away that the blast hadn’t knocked you over, but it still left your ears ringing.

Had Morgan and Dave’s ears not already been ringing they definitely would have been after the scream that ripped through your body.

“NOO!!!!!” You screamed.

You couldn’t form a coherent thought; you sobbed and lurched your body forward in hopes of going to find Aaron. Before you could make it three steps, Morgan had his arms around your waist holding you back. He turned you around and held you while you pounded your fists against his chest.

“Sweetheart you can’t go in there. I know we have people in there and waiting for them to get out is going to feel like an eternity. But until we get any sort of confirmation, we need to try and stay positive.” Morgan explained.

Garcia and JJ joined you, Dave and Morgan, tears streaming down their faces, all of them silently hoping your team family would make it out unscathed.

You could feel it coming on, the more time had passed. Your breaths were shallow, body clammy, your vision was going blurry, you were having a hard time keeping yourself upright. Dave was the one to notice and lead you away from the group, he held your hands and was saying something about you needing to match his breathing.

“Dave I…I c-can’t. W-what if he doesn’t make it out? I w-would d-die without him Dave!” You hiccupped.

“He’s going to make it out. But remember that you are strong and no matter what happens you will make it through this.” Dave reminds you.

“No! Dave, you don’t understand without Aaron, sure, the rain would fall, the children would play, the tides would change but I-I would die.” You looked away from Dave momentarily “I die without you.” You whispered.

You saw heads start turning in the direction of the alleyway that was adjacent to what was once the bank, as you followed suit, the bile returned – easing its way up your throat. A body bag, with no other signs of Aaron. Your mind jumped to the worst-case scenario and your legs finally gave out. Dave tried to catch you as you fell to the ground, another gut-wrenching sob ripping its way through you.

You didn’t register the loss of Dave’s arms around your shoulders, not until he moved to pull you up off the ground and turn you in the direction of the group of agents making their way towards you. You tried to protest, telling Dave that nothing mattered anymore, until he physically turned your chin towards them.

“Aaron?” It came out as an exhale, below a whisper.

“Aaron?” This time was a bit louder, gaining your voice back.

“Aaron!” A shout this time as you could see his eyes scanning the crowd for you.

His gaze snapped to you as you ran towards him, looking him over to ensure that he is unharmed before you launch yourself into his arms. He lifted you fully and allowed you to wrap your legs around his waist, he could feel your tears soaking the collar of his shirt. He gently shushed you assuring you that he was okay and that everyone was safe.

“T-the b-body bag, I-I thought it. I thought it was you, Aaron.”

“It was Katiya, she was trying to detonate it when we found her, we had just enough time to get to some sort of vault, but when it went off, the debris trapped us in. Honey, I am so sorry I scared you. I’m alright though, not even a scratch.” Aaron brushed his hand over the back of your head as you brought your feet back to the ground.

He looked into your eyes, he could tell that your brain was trying to process everything, all the emotions you had just been feeling, along with the relief you must be feeling now. He couldn’t help himself when he leaned in and kissed you. It was a kiss that said I was terrified of losing you but we’re safe and here together now. As he pulled away, you rested your foreheads against one another’s.

You knew that there would be tons of questions from the team but honestly in this moment you couldn’t care less because Aaron was safe and back in your arms. This moment that you were sharing allowed a few things to become clear for you and Aaron. You knew that he was the one for you, nobody else, and you were sure you wouldn’t survive losing him. He came to realize that it was time for him to pull that ring from the back of his sock drawer and finally ask you for forever, he thought that maybe it was time for him to step back and take that promotion Strauss had continuously offered. All he knew was that he couldn’t risk what you two had. Without you…he couldn’t even finish the thought because that wasn’t even an option.

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tasteleeknow · 1 year

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FEAST

PAIRING: minho x fem!reader GENRE: smut. CONTENT: 18+ minors dni. desperate floor sex. dry humping. overstim. biting. licking. WORD COUNT: 2k

SUMMARY: Minho teaches you self defence and then.... well ya know.

do not repost to other sites, including translations.

“Remember to slap the mat,” he reminds you again as he takes your wrist.

“Mm, I got it.”

“I’ll take some of your weight, just—”

“Fall safely, I know.”

He’d only been teaching you a few weeks. ‘Self defence’ he’d called it. A combination of mixed martial arts which you could use against people far bigger and stronger than yourself. It was a response to a minor incident, so minor you wouldn’t have brought it up if he hadn’t happened to call you at the right time. You were a little late as you’d avoided a group of clearly wasted men. It was a minor detour really, but he’d always call when you weren’t home after dark.

He took on a seriousness during each lesson, the same kind you’d seen when you’d sat in on his dance practices. It’s difficult not to press your lips to his cheeks when he looks like that, completely focused on his task. But you don’t. You listen to his instructions and keep your lips off him. Until the end, that is. You end each session with a gentle kiss and a “Thank you, you’re a very good teacher”.

It’s the end of the lesson now. One quick demonstration of the throw he wants to teach you properly next time. You’d asked if he could show you something ‘fun’. “Fun?” he’d asked with a small smile. “Mm, throw me,” you’d replied.

His arm wraps around your back now so he can hold your waist from the side. He steps to manoeuvre himself in front of you, his hip pressed to your front. “I want to bring you over my hip,” he says as his fingers press a little into your waist. “I’ll lift you off your feet and bring you to the ground in front of me, okay? You’ll land on your back.”

You lean forward slightly to peck his cheek, “M’kay.” Okay, your lips are mostly kept to yourself. No one’s perfect.

His hip presses into your lower stomach and then he’s flipping you, throwing you over his hip to land on your back at his feet. It’s all over in a second. The mat cushions you. Still, you haven’t quite mastered the way you are supposed to tuck your chin to your chest and you can’t help squeezing your eyes shut as your head bounces a little off the mat. It would have hurt if he hadn’t lowered you half the way down, only releasing his grip on your waist much later than he was supposed to. He kneels over you when you blink open your eyes. His hair falls over his face.

“Good?” he asks. “Remember to tuck your chin.”

You smile, trailing your hand up his arm to his shoulder where you can get a good grip of his black t-shirt. “Mm, Good,” you answer just as you tug him down onto you. His elbow lands beside your head as he catches himself. “Thank you, you’re a wonderful teacher.”

His hair acts as a curtain between you as he drops his eyes and you have to reach up to tuck some behind his ear. It was your favourite thing in the world: complimenting him, seeing the way he’d attempt to brush them all off. They’d sink into him, deep down—despite his efforts to appear unaffected.

“My turn,” you grin.

He’s quiet—with a slight curve to his lips—as he pulls you to your feet and moves to stand in position with his arm out towards you. You take his wrist, wrapping your fingers around him as you turn and step in close to him. Your arm around his waist helps you pull him in tight, his pelvis pressed into your hip.

“Bend your knees, then straighten them as you throw,” he instructs. You do as he says, using your legs to throw him over your hip and onto the ground at your feet. He grins up at you, “Good.”

“Do it to me again.”

You take his hand to pull him up. “Do you like being thrown around?” he asks, clearly amused.

“Only by you,” you reply as he takes your wrist.

This time when he throws you, he lets go a little earlier, let’s you fall a little further. It’s over so quickly you hardly get a chance to process it. You fall perfectly. Then he’s over you again, checking on you, “Good?”

“Mm,” you hum, smiling to yourself.

Your hand moves to thread through the hair at the back of his head before letting the strands fall from between your fingers—repeating the action over and over. The strands closest to his skin are a little damp from sweat, a result of the hour-long session. He’s quiet as you pet him this way, settling himself over you properly.

“Does it bother you?” you ask after a moment, as you tuck the remainder of the hair that falls over his face behind his other ear.

“No.”

“At all?”

“You don’t like it?”

You can’t help smiling a little at that. “I love it.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

He drops his face to your neck, nuzzling into the crook where your throat meets your shoulder. You can resume playing with the hair at the back of his head like this, fingertips tickling his scalp. He hums after a moment, a small sound of contentment as he presses a little more of his body weight into you. “Are you hungry?” you whisper, unable to muster up the energy to use your voice properly. It’s amazing how easily he relaxes you, how the weight of his body over you comforts and settles.

“Mm,” he hums, the small vibration of it tickling your skin. Then he’s kissing you, little kisses in the same spot, over and over and over, until the patch of skin is damp with them. “‘M hungry,” he mumbles.

“What do you want?”

He lifts himself up so you can see his face. His hair has fallen from behind his ears again but this time he’s close enough that it curtains you both rather than hiding him from you. It tickles your forehead. “What do I want?” he says, like it’s a deep philosophical question rather than a lunch menu choice. Then he’s lowering his lips to yours, a gentle brush back and forth at first, much like the way he’d nuzzled into your neck. He kisses the corner of your mouth gently. “What do I want…” he whispers again before kissing the other corner. “I want to taste you.”

“I’m not food.”

“Aren’t you?” he questions, a look crossing his face that you know all too well. You're helpless to stop him as he turns your head to the side and attaches himself to you. His teeth scrape lightly against your skin as he nips at your shoulder, laving his tongue over each spot when he’s done. “Then why do you taste so good, hm?” he purrs. You tug at his hair a little when he reaches your throat, his little bites replaced with lazily suckling. He pauses at your pulse point, lips resting against your skin lightly.

You wonder if he can feel the way your heart races.

Then he’s whispering, lips caressing your skin as he speaks, “I’ll never get enough.”

“Enough?” you breathe, grazing his scalp with the tips of your fingers.

“Hungry…” he whispers. “I can bite you,” his teeth press lightly into your skin, “and kiss you,” a gentle kiss, “and lick,” tongue laving up to your jaw. Then he’s above you, lips wet from his messy feast. “And still,” he continues. “I’m so hungry.”

You brush his hair away from his temples, giving you the space you need to gently pull him down and kiss his forehead. Then you whisper, “Me too.”

He’s kissing you before you’ve finished the final syllable, threading his fingers into your hair each side of your head to hold you in place as he rests on his elbows.

It’s barely a minute before his hips begin rolling, lazy and slow—much like his kisses. He tastes like chocolate—the mint choc ice cream he’d devoured shortly before your lesson still lingering. His black sweats are soft against your thighs as your cotton shorts begin to rise at the rhythmic roll of his hips. He hums as you tighten your grip in his hair, tugging at the soft brown strands in an attempt to pull him closer. It’s hardly possible—to be closer. So he laughs, a tiny breathy laugh into your mouth before he drops his face to your neck. “What do you want?” he asks.

“More,” is your only response, an embarrassingly desperate plea with your fingers still tangled in his hair.

“Mm,” he hums. “More.”

Then he plants one of his palms into the mat beside your waist, the other arm he keeps rooted to the ground with his elbow—up beside your head. He has leverage this way, leverage to fuck you into the cushioned floor. But he doesn’t. He’s decided to drag this out: to play with his food. He grinds into you, dropping a chaste kiss to your lips when you start to whimper. “Got you,” he breathes as he presses you into the mat with his hips—thighs working to knead his cock into you, over and over and over...

His hair tickles your skin as he drops his head a little, overcome with his own pleasure.

“More,” you gasp, frantic pulls at his t-shirt urging him on. Your shorts have ridden right up, barely covering your underwear as his hips roll.

“More?” he stutters out, breathy and barely comprehensible. Then he's gripping your hair with the hand beside your head, forcing your head back so he can drop his head to your shoulder. He doesn’t bite you this time, or kiss you… he breathes. He pants into your skin, warm breath fanning over your skin as he fucks you into the mat. “Need me inside?” he groans out eventually, when a particularly desperate plea escapes your lips. “Is this not enough? Are you empty, hm?”

You nod, pulling your lower lip between your teeth briefly as you resist letting another whimper free. “So empty,” you manage. You snake your arm down between your bodies. He pauses his movements, giving you the space you need to slip your fingers into your shorts—to trace over your slippery cunt. “Empty here,” you breathe.

He blinks—once, twice, and then he’s moving.

He shoves his sweats down just enough to tug himself free. You're unprepared for the desperate nature of it, the way he doesn’t even bother to pull your shorts down—simply tugging your underwear aside through one of the legs of your shorts. He’s sheathing himself inside you a second later. The cotton fabric of your shorts is flimsy enough to allow it, to allow him to fuck you into the mat while you’re still fully clothed.

“Here?” he asks, voice strained.

You nod your head, squeezing your eyes shut as he rolls into you.

“Mm,” he hums. “Got you.”

Then he’s gone, desperate kisses between frantic snapping of hips. He reaches down at one point to finally free you from your underwear and shorts, clearly frustrated by anything that inhibits his movement. You’re hardly aware of him stripping you free of them, head lolling back and forth as you bask in being consumed by him.

When he comes you’re completely spent, fiddling with his hair idly as you wait for him to come down. He doesn’t. He grinds into you, tiny sounds slipping from his lips as he overstimulates himself. They’re always soft sounds, pretty whimpers that border on sobs.

“Min,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his sweaty temple. “It’s enough.”

When the next sound to slip from his throat is more sob than whimper, you’re quick to tug his face from your neck. “You’re so good, hm?... Make me feel so good…Thank you.” You press a kiss to each cheek. “You can stop now.”

His hips stutter, one final release before he drops onto you, pressing you into the mat completely. It’s a comfortable weight, a blanket of warmth before he has the strength to gather himself. You continue playing with his hair, soothing strokes as his warm puffs of breath tickle your neck.

#lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know fanfic #kpop smut #stray kids smut #kpop imagines #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #kpop scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #minho smut #minho x reader #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios

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hopeluna-archived · 7 months

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totally not like a personal experience or anything but is it ok if i request the obey me bros + dateables (whether or not you wanna add luke is up to you bc this is a sfw request so the little chihuahua baby can be in it) with an mc who always had to fight just to have someone just pay attention to them? i mean like having to repeat their words, call out the name of the person theyre talking to, constantly ask if theyre still paying attention to what theyre saying, etc. (bonus points if they also feel like no one even really likes what they do have to say once they get someones attention)

!! MC who always had to fight just to have someone pay attention to them | obey me

A/N: totally not writing this out of personal experience or anything hahahaha

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Diavolo

CW: hurt/comfort, mostly comfort tho, mentions of neglect and feelings of not being "enough", lemme know if there is anything else!

m.list

Lucifer

Lucifer is quite perceptive and notices this. He has never had an issue with this himself because when he talks, he commands the room, willing everybody to listen. And he'll do the same with you, even if you might not notice it. Any person daring to speak over you gets shut down pretty quickly by Lucifer's stare.

Mammon

Mammon understands this. He's had to deal with fighting for making his voice heard pretty much all the time. When he notices you do the same, he's hurt. How can someone not listen to your words?? No matter what he's doing, he always makes sure to give his full attention to you when you're talking and how can he not? Your voice sounds too heavenly to ignore <3

Leviathan

Levi doesn't catch on to this at first till someone, probably Satan, points it out one day. He feels pathetic that you feel this way because he, himself has felt this way too many times to count. He always got upset about how people would tune out his ramblings. He feels worse when he realizes you have never done it yet you face that too with other people.

Satan

Satan's pissed. More than usual. How dare people ignore you when he looks at you like you hung the stars everytime you're talking? Satan notices this very early on and is already thinking of ways to torture every single person who decided to makes you feel any less. He will literally stare into their soul when you are talking as a way of warning them.

Diavolo

Diavolo's heart breaks whenever he sees the crestfallen look on your face at someone ignoring you. He might be a goof but he still notices these little things and is quite upset and confused at how someone could ever not hang on to every words you utter. He thought it was absolutely normal to look at you in adoration every time you talk?

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tanglepelt · 1 year

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Dp x dc idea thing. 44

Someone says the forbidden words. I wish. Now it was a child’s wish. I wish we all were with our familles. One meant to be nice.

A ghost attack had caused the collapse of a roof. The child was just happened to be in a room with the trio. Danny hadn’t even had the chance to transform.

As Desiree twists her wishes. The worst thing for Danny happened. You see he was adopted. After he failed a mission for the league rather then return he noped out of there. Granted the mission was set up to fail. He overheard his twin discussing it with mother.

Being adopted by two mad scientists at 6 was the biggest reason they never found out he survived. The Fentons were astonished by his story. Helped hide him and forged new papers. Quickly accepting him as their own son. The family had no social media presence minus the Fentonwork site, no mentions of children.

Rather then be returned to the Fentons a green portal dumped him in the middle of a grand dinning room. A ton of blue eyed black haired people eating dinner. The one that stood out was the one with green eyes.

Nope.

No way

Well then the green eyed one lunges at him.

Okay maybe.

When he starts yelling about impersonating his dead twin. How dare grandfather clone him. Honestly he wasn’t listening until he spoke of killing all the other clones.

Yup. That was Damian.

If vlad could make clones he has no doubt grandfather could. For all he knows vlad could have handed the info over to him for some of the rancid ectoplasm they had at the base.

He knew the truth now.

The Lazarus pits was just remnants from the river of revulsion. It’s a wonder they brought anyone back.

Honestly Damian charging him was a pain. Danny didn’t even know how his twin suddenly had a sword. Getting cut was enough of that. This was a dinning room not a training room. He was just going to have to dine and dash.

He really needs to thank jazz and sam for getting him back into physical training. He enjoyed not worrying about it 24/7. Then the whole dying had to happen. As such he got back into it. This was starting to tire him out.

From the lack of people getting out of the way. They must be used to this chaos. The look in there eyes indicated they were going to get involved. Honestly he’d rather not.

Realistically he doesn’t think Damian would be able to find him. The fentons and then tucker have helped to conceal him. By all accounts his past life never existed. Only Daniel Fenton did. Amity was a nowhere town mostly hidden by the government anyways. The whole ghost thing was meant to stay secret.

They didn’t want people poking around there.

Danny was aware it just helped hide him so why expose it. Tucker sam and jazz knew. They all could bypass it.

With a sigh and a wave of his hand he froze them in place.

“Let all just cool down here. Damian i have and had no intentions of ever seeing you again. But genies like to twist wishes unfortunately. Desiree just had to screw me over specifically to get me out of town.”

“For all i care keep your title as heir, I’m much happier playing dead. I’m already half way there. Don’t look for me. You get to be the superior twin”

“No need for late night plots on how to kill me or prove yourself. Enjoy. I have friends and family to get back to.”

With a snap of his finger a green portal opened in front of Danny.

“The ice will disappear in five minutes or so. If i remember to unfreeze it” grabbing one of the rolls on the table. Danny left through the portal.

What Danny didn’t know was his twin had been trying to find ways around the botched mission. Grandfather has only wanted one heir. Easiest way to get that was to dispose of the youngest.

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thetarttfuldickhead · 4 months

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It’s a little unclear, in the end, how the conversation gets there, because all in all the Richmond dressing room isn’t the site of that many sex jokes, not since Colin came out and no longer feels the need to make them. But they’re still lads, yeah, and young, mostly, so the jokes still happen, even if it’s just gentle ribbing, and silliness.

So: somehow, one morning halfway into Roy’s first year as head coach, the topic turns to sex, of the rougher variety. Roy’s only listening with half an ear, he’s busy sketching out the new trick plays Nate’s dreamed up on the whiteboard, and he doesn’t really catch the build-up, but when Jamie’s name is mentioned his ears perk up without him even really noticing. It’s become instinct at that point, keeping track of Jamie (even as Roy does his best to give all his players at least some semblance of equal attention).

“We know that Jamie likes it rough, though,” Zorro says, and the rest of the group oh:s and ah:s either knowingly or in surprised glee.

“Eh?” Jamie sounds startled by the assertion, but not particularly put off. (He never really is, as long as he gets attention, Roy thinks with an internal scoff that’s far fonder than he’d ever admit to.) “What makes you say that?”

“You told us!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Roy can see Jamie shake his head. “I don’t know what you’re on about, mate.” Still not bothered, but clearly not understanding what Zorro is getting at either.

Isaac throws him a disbelieving glance. “You don’t remember, bruv? It was when you first came here, before you started going out with Keeley.”

“Yeah,” Colin interjects, “You’d only been here for about two weeks, I think, but you came into training with these marks and bruises, and it turned out you’d hooked up with a girl the night before, but you hadn’t known she was a professional dominatrix before you got to her place.”

Hoots and titters at that, delighted and amused but not unkind.

“Exactly,” Zorro says. “And you told us you’d just gone with it because you have to try everything at least once, and it hadn’t been bad.”

Ah. Roy remembers now. He’d already been absolutely fed-up with Jamie’s attitude, the arrogance and selfishness and incessant need to put others down, and the striker’s total lack of shame and casual smugness about the marks had rubbed Roy entirely the wrong way. Not because people should be ashamed for liking that sort of stuff, of course (Roy wasn’t), but there was such a thing as common decency and unspoken rules about not parading around the dressing room like you were in a fucking porno or some shit and—

If Roy was honest about it, he’d mostly been pissed because it was Jamie, and everything Jaime did pissed him off back then (though, to be fair, most of what Jamie did back then was fucking shitty, so it’s not like Roy was wrong to be pissed. Most of the time).

“Oh.” Jamie’s voice is soft, suddenly. Small, in a way that has alarm bells going off like air raid sirens in Roy’s head. “Yeah. Um.”

The realisation hits Roy a second before it does the rest of the team, and his ears are already filling with a terrible ringing as the room falls silent behind him. He can feel himself grow rigid with rage, and with cold, curdling shame.

“Shit, man,” Isaac says eventually.

“Jamie, I’m so sorry.” It’s odd, the way Colin’s earnest, unhappy voice seems to be coming from so very far away.

“What?” Zorro, still not getting it, and then he does, and Roy, at a great distance, can hear his face crumpling. “Oh shit, Jamie, I didn’t mean—“

“No, don’t worry about it, man. It was a long time ago, yeah? It’s fine.” It’s a heroic attempt at sounding casual. Might have succeeded, too, back before they all knew Jamie as well as the do now.

Roy doesn’t stick around to hear the team offer their comfort and Jamie try to wave their concern away. He walks into the coaches’ office, and the only reason he doesn’t slam the door as hard as he can is because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.

“You all right there, Coach?” Beard looks up at him from behind his book, brow creased in quiet assessment.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Nate jumps down from the desk he’s been perched on. “Did someone die?”

And Roy wants to tell them to fuck off. Wants to punch the wall so hard it stops his mind from spinning. But he’s been talking with Dr. Fieldstone about that, hasn’t he, how his maladaptive coping strategies are tripping him up, and fucking over the people he cares about in the process.

So he takes a deep breath. And he doesn’t look at them when he starts talking. “Back before Ted came here Jamie came in with these bruises all over his chest and back one day, and he told us he’d had sex with a fucking dominatrix. And I believed him, okay? I just… I fucking believed him, even though it was weird fucking bruises for— That’s not the fucking point. But because I thought he was an arrogant fucking prick and I fucking hated his guts, I told him— “ He trails off, looking up at the ceiling. Uselessly, his cheeks are burning. Maybe his eyes are, too, if he’d let himself feel it. “I told him I’d be happy to pay to see someone give him a trashing. Give ‘em extra if they knocked a couple of his teeth out so he’d shut up for once.”

Beard doesn’t say anything, but he leans back in his chair with a look on his face that lets Roy know that, yeah, he’d fucked that one up good and proper.

“Oh,” Nate says. “So it was his dad who— That’s— But— I mean, that’s not good, obviously, that’s awful, but it’s… It wasn’t you who hurt him, Roy. And I mean, you and Jamie have said all sorts of thing to each other. Done all sorts of things.”

And that’s true, isn’t it. And mostly Roy is happy enough to write it off as tit-for-tat, old foolishness and bygones, Jamie a prick and Roy sometimes an idiot, and they’re both better now. And he doesn’t know how to explain to Nate and Beard how knowing that Jamie looked up to him ever since he was a kid, knowing that he never took that poster down, even after that, after everything, makes his casual cruelty and failure to protect Jamie all the harder to bear, even if he hadn’t known at the time that there was anything to protect Jamie from.

“Coach—“ Beard begins, but is interrupted by a knock on the door, and before Roy can tell whoever it is to fuck off, Jamie sticks his head into the office. Must have made his escape from the rest of the team, then. “Sorry, Coach, are we getting started or what? The lads— “ He catches sight of Roy’s face and his eyes widen. “Jesus, Roy, what happened? Are you all right, man?”

Under other circumstances, Roy might have found it remarkable how quickly and effortlessly Jamie makes the switch from Roy’s respectful star player to Roy’s friend, his entire demeanour changing as he moves into the room. As it is, Roy doesn’t say anything, but he must have made some sort of noise or moved some sort of way, because Jamie’s face twists in alarm, and then he’s across the floor and gently but firmly pulling Roy into a hug. “There, it’s all right, man, I’ve got you, lad, it’s all right.”

Roy blames all the fucking therapy he’d been doing for the past eight months for not pushing Jamie away but instead allowing the other to hold him, and allowing himself to hesitantly wrap his arms around him in turn. Fuck Nate. Fuck Beard. Fuck the team. Fuck anyone who thinks they get to have opinions on that.

He’s got an inch on Jamie, but Jamie’s broader, solid and strong. Steady, as he puts a hand on the back of Roy’s neck, murmuring nonsense that Roy knows is supposed to be soothing, and which maybe is. Mostly, it’s reassuring to have Jamie there, whole and hale and safe.

“What’s going on? Is Phoebe all right? Did something happen to your sister? Keeley?” Jamie is starting to sound a little freaked out, and Roy realises that he can’t just stand there mutely forever and let the fears grow in Jamie’s mind, he needs to fucking say something, explain.

He’d rather never say another word.

Tough fucking luck, Kent. “Do you remember what I told you when you said you’d had sex with a dominatrix?”

The way Jamie stiffens tells him that, yeah, Jamie does. “Roy—“

Roy tightens his grip, not wanting Jamie to pull away. “Don’t fucking tell me it was fine, because you were a nightmare for the rest of that day, you were absolutely fucking horrible to everyone.” Worse than usual, lashing out—not that Roy had known it at the time, or had thought it anything more than Jamie being a fucking prick for no other reason than to be a prick.

For a few moments, Jamie doesn’t say anything. Then he lets out a long sigh, relaxing into the embrace and pressing his face against Roy’s neck. “Yeah, okay,” he mutters, “it was all shit, mate. I mean, all of it was, it wasn’t just you— But, Roy, listen… “ And now Jamie does pull back, just enough so that he can look at Roy. His eyes are tired, but the set of his jaw determined. “You fucking hated me, right? Back then, I mean. You hated me, ‘cause I was a prick, and I hated you, ‘cause you were a bitter old cunt.”

There’s no fucking denying it, is there. Roy gives a sharp nod. “Yeah, but—“

“No, let me just— I’m not saying that makes it all right, yeah, I just— You hated me, okay. But, would you have said what you said if you’d known what really happened?”

Roy’s lips twist into snarl. “What? No! Of course I wouldn’t fucking have— “ He might have ached to put Jamie’s head through a wall several times a day, but he wouldn’t have stood by for Jamie’s piece of shit father—

“See?” The little twat has the audacity to look triumphant at that, as if he’d scored a particularly neat goal. “That’s what I’m saying, yeah? Even when you hated my guts, you wouldn’t have said that, if you’d known what was going on. But you didn’t know, ‘cause I didn’t want you to, or anyone to, and I’m an amazing actor, yeah? So, like, it’s not fine, but it’s… Don’t beat yourself up over it, man. You didn’t know.”

It’s absolution, the kind Roy doesn’t think he deserves and the Jamie is far too quick to offer. But Jamie is also right: Roy hadn’t known. Wallowing in guilt won’t do anything to change the past, or help Jamie now.

“All right,” Roy says. “But that was still a shit thing to say and I wish hadn’t done it. You never deserved any of what that arsehole did to you, and if… fuck it, when I made you feel like I thought otherwise, that was my fucking bad, and I’m sorry.”

Jamie nods. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, man.” And there’s a tremulousness to his faint smile that makes Roy think that for all his claims to the contrary, it had still been something Jamie needed to hear.

It does Roy’s fucking head in that Jamie’s been up to see his dad several times since he got word that James Tartt is in rehab. But they’ve argued about that already, bitterly, and Roy has very reluctantly admitted that it’s not his call. All he can do is offer Jamie whatever support he needs, whenever he wants it.

Clearing his throat, Roy gives Jaime an awkward pat on the shoulder before carefully extricating himself fully from the hug. “We’re still on for dinner with Keeley tonight?” He’ll make Jamie’s favourite dish, he decides. Throw in some dessert.

“Yeah, of course, yeah.”

“Good.” He jerks his head to the door. “Go on then, tell the lads to get on the pitch, and we’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, Coach.”

As the door shuts behind him, Roy turns on Beard and Nate who – wisely – don’t say anything.

“I don’t want to fucking talk about this,” he tells them sharply. “I don’t want you mentioning a fucking word of it ever again.” Because maybe he’s gotten to a point where having a fucking breakdown and hugging it out with Jamie in front of them isn’t the end of the world (even if it’s a near fucking thing), but if someone tries to make him discuss it, he’ll need to start head-butting people, and he’s been trying to stay off that since he became manager, because it just isn’t a good look, is it, and he’s trying to be better about that sort of thing.

Nate and Beard glance at each other. Roy doesn’t really care for the knowing look in their eyes, but they merely offer a nod and a yeah, yeah, of course, sure in reply, and that will have to do.

In this messed up world, a lot of things would have to fucking do.

“Right,” Roy says, already moving to follow Jamie. “I’ll see you on the fucking pitch.”

---

A/N: This was supposed to be the fourth of the stand alone ficlets I call The Locker Room Conversations, but it got quite a bit darker (and less team focused) than I usually do for those, so I’m not sure. I’ll sit on it for a bit, maybe fiddle a little, and see where I put it when it goes up on AO3 eventually.

If you like the idea of the team uncovering sad truths about Jamie’s past and are into heavier angst (and more of the team taking care of Jamie), I highly recommend checking out i should be the poster kid for this shit by anotherlongstoryshort / babytarttdoodoo

#well-intentioned ribbing lead to unhappy revelations #and references to earlier abuse #and roy having all the emotions about it #there’s also a very long hug because a girl’s gotta get her kicks somehow #james tartt sr is mentioned and his own warning #hurt/comfort #angst #roy kent #jamie tartt #roy & jamie #afc richmond #a team of himbos #who mean well even when they get it wrong #fic #my stuff

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nesquiiksstuff · 6 months

Text

✎ ❝general relationship headcanons!❞

syzoth (feat. ashrah), baraka, raiden

love languages

fluff

thouple (syzoth + ashrah + reader)

thank you guys for so much support! im just going this hc thingy while I think up this for the raiden story (which hopefully won’t take too long). please enjoy!! ᰔ

ᰔ syzoth :: quality time and gift giving

he is not uncomfortable to talk about his passed family, honestly syzoth would enjoy if his partner was interested in that part of his life. whether it’s recommending visiting their grave site, or sharing his grief—is something that he greatly appreciates.

the reason ashrah and syzoth work so well is because they’re both trying to right their sins, having you be there and being supportive means the absolute world. he shows you that through small thoughtful gifts (mostly trinkets that he finds at markets or on his walks).

idk if anyone is actually interested in a thouple with them…but hear me out 🤲. I genuinely think ashrah and syzoth would be so well rounded and loving. date nights either in Shaolin’s gardens or mileena’s palace (probably in the library), always romantic with stereotypical candle light and a nice dinner. syzoth thinks it’s important to make it special as possible since there’s only a few times when you’re all together.

. . .

ᰔ baraka: acts of service, words of affirmation, physical touch

what baraka truly needs is another leader. there is so much responsibility placed on his shoulders with the colony—but of course he would never truly ask you to help, he’s stubborn and well…has a guilty conscience. you would need to insert yourself without needing to be prompted. assertiveness and responsibility is something he finds extremely attractive, as well as being compassionate, gods knows that it’s also something he needs.

physical contact is foreign to him, after years of being alone once his family passed and being ill. he adores it when you bring some type of normalcy to touching him, though he’s the first to pull away. baraka knows the risk he puts you in everyday, if he can limit the chances of tarkat spreading to you—while still indulging this relationship, he will.

like asking for extra leadership—he wouldn’t pursue you. baraka wouldn’t ever expect another chance of love, in all honesty he would think that his pining is one sided. Though once you’ve established a relationship with him, he’s open with you. private moments with you are filled with him thanking you for the work you put in the colony, and how you treat not only him but others. even though he’s no poet, he makes sure you know he cherishes you.

. . .

ᰔ raiden: words of affirmation and quality time

usually he pursues people that he highly respects. you don’t have to do something exceptional, but having passion for your own beliefs is what he values in a person and especially in a partner. also it would be admirable if you were interested in his own goals and aspirations, after all raiden’s prospective has changed much once the events in outworld has passed.

raiden is humble…but he likes showing off to you—not exactly out of place of smugness but he enjoys when you are impressed at his talents. he smiles so brightly whenever you compliment him on his achievements or on his hard work in general. it’s probably one of his top motivation besides him genuinely enjoy what he’s doing.

if you two ever got the chance to go back to fengjian his first goal would to introduce you to his family, he has to be a mama’s boy. he cares deeply for his family and he wants you to feel included in that circle. besides visiting them, he’s taking you to see the sites and old hang out spots. leading you along by holding your hand keeping you close (I love him he’s so sweet ugh). it means everything that you’re willing to listen to his childhood stories and just with him in general to visit his hometown.

sadly i’m trying to keep his to minimum since my own little headcanons for him should show up in the story i’m writing for him :]

thank you for reading!

#baraka x reader #syzoth #mk1 x reader #mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #raiden mk1 #syzoth mk1 #baraka #hcs #fluff #raiden x reader #x reader #ashrah #ashrah x reader #ashrah x syzoth #syzoth x reader

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irkimatsu · 2 months

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I love your Husk works! Could you please write one where fem!reader gets along with everyone and Husk doesn't even realize that he's catching feelings, but maybe on a night out with everyone, someone comes up and starts heavily flirting with her. Ends with confessions and sugary sweet tooth rotting fluff please. 😍

God damn, anon, do you have any idea how hard it is to wring a confession out of this man? I was going along at a steady pace and then I got stuck for hours! I genuinely hope you like slowburn, because Husk doesn't go from zero-to-love easily. I think he's gotten a nice start here, though. It's definitely fluffy!

Husk/Fem!Reader starting a relationship. Mentions of drinking and attempted sexual assault that Husk interrupts before things get too heavy. SFW, 2.8k words. Enjoy! I hope this is what you had in mind, anon! Thank you so much for reading my works!

Your first few months staying at the Hazbin Hotel have gone quite smoothly; as smoothly as anything there can ever go, anyway. Charlie took an instant liking to you - she takes an instant liking to everyone, so it’s nothing special, but still. She can be a bit overbearing, but you know she means well, and she’s grateful to have someone who doesn’t immediately write off her trust exercises from the start.

Still, after all the sharing circles and art therapy, you occasionally find yourself craving more “adult” fun, and that’s where Angel and Cherri come in. It’s not that you don’t want to be redeemed, but what could be so sinful about enjoying yourself a little? You’re not doing anything dangerous or drastic, no drugs and no getting involved with the wrong people; you’re just having fun drinking, dancing, maybe smashing up some abandoned property if the opportunity strikes. Charlie can’t get mad at destruction if no one cares about the thing you just blew up, right?

The bartender, Husk, isn’t nearly as keen on those nights on the town, but you’ve still managed to bond with him on nights where you prefer to stay in. He’s a surprisingly good listener underneath his gruff exterior. (Perhaps too good of a listener; you hope he keeps ignoring whatever bullshit you might have spouted off after one too many of his cocktails.) He also has plenty of stories of his own, mostly from the time he spent alive. When you could get him talking, he’d weave incredible tales of nightlife, both from his home city in Las Vegas and all the other places he’d visited in his life. He seemed especially wistful when talking about a woman he knew back then. He could talk for hours about all the famous sites he was able to take her to, all the songs he would sing for her, and all the starry skies he’d dance with her under.

“It’s not like I blame her for leaving. I’m the one who screwed it up. But being in love… it was nice while it lasted.”

You try to encourage him with the hope that he could fall in love again, but he shakes his head with a bitter smile.

“I lost the ability to love years ago.”

—-

Your friendship with Angel and Cherri is so different compared to your friendship with Husk, so it took a few months before you could have a night out with all three of them. Charlie is once again less enthused about the idea of you four going out to party, but you promise to be relatively well behaved.

You promise, anyway. You can’t make promises for Angel’s sake, and as much as you love her, you know better than to have any faith in Cherri.

You’re surprised Husk agreed to come to a sex club at all. He never seemed like the type to be into that sort of thing. You’re less surprised to see that he has no intention of flirting with anyone and is instead perfectly happy to sit by the wall and knock back shots as quickly as the bartender can pour them.

Couldn’t he drink himself stupid back at the hotel, though? Why did he even come?

Is it just you, or has he been watching you the whole night?

The hours tick by, and you, Angel, and Cherri become progressively more wasted. Angel is currently hanging off of a muscular bull demon - damn, good for him - while Cherri tells you about another resident who used to stay at the hotel before he tragically lost his life during the last extermination.

“He was such a fucking idiot that it was charming, ya know? God damn I should have gotten to know him better when he was still around! I heard this rumor about him and never even got to find out if it was true!”

As she speaks, Cherri catches sight of a cobra demon who is currently chatting up a cluster of punk girls.

“Well, damn… maybe I’ll get to find out tonight. Don’t wait around for me, I’ll find my way back!”

With that announcement, Cherri is gone, leaving only you and Husk with about a dozen bar stools between you. He’s definitely keeping an eye on you; there’s still liquid in his glass, and he’s watching you instead of guzzling it.

What’s his deal? If he wants to spend the night with you, why doesn’t he just come over here? You decide not to go over there yourself; no sense in rewarding him if he’s playing mind games.

You instead turn your attention to a handsome wolf demon who has taken Cherri’s seat. “Drinking all alone, love?” he says, his deep voice smooth as butter. Right away this man gives you the air of a natural-born charmer who can win anyone’s trust within seconds, only to break their hearts within hours.

He’s hot, and you’re drunk. You’ll let him break your heart a little.

Your conversation starts normally enough, with low stakes topics like the music and the drink selection in the bar. You’re in no hurry to tell this man anything personal or leave this spot with him, but you’re enjoying looking at him and hearing him enough that you don’t mind being a bit of entertainment.

He bumps your knee with his at one point, but you pull your own knee away. At first he seems to take the hint, and time passes without any more advances.

Soon, however, he grows more bold.

“Why don’t we go somewhere else, baby?” he asks as he lightly squeezes your thigh. “Somewhere more private?”

“No thanks,” you say as you jerk your leg away, though the motion doesn’t make him let go. “I’m fine talking here.”

“You know this is a sex club, don’t you?” he says. His smile and voice haven’t changed, but somehow he seems much slimier than he did five minutes ago, and the strong paw gripping your leg that seemed so enticing in your head feels suffocating in reality.

“I’m not here for that, I’m just hanging out with friends-” You try to leave the stool, but the man throws his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in.

“Come on, babe! What did you think I was after by chatting you up like this? You’re not gonna leave me hanging, are you?” He’s holding you closely enough that his hot breath is hitting your face, and the stench of his cologne is making you gag. “C’mon, baby, I’ll show you a good time. You won’t regret this-”

“She said no.” Husk had somehow snuck his way to your side without you noticing, and was now glaring daggers at your pursuer. “Back off.”

“Who are you, her grandpa?” the wolf laughs, refusing to unhand you. “Or just a nasty old man who likes ‘em young?”

Your captor’s laughter is quickly interrupted by a high-pitched howl. His face is now adorned with four jagged, bleeding lines.

“What the fuck, old man?” he yells as he unhands you. Just as quickly as you’re unhanded, you’re grabbed again, this time by Husk grabbing your waist and pulling you away.

“I knew I fucking hated this place,” he growls. “Where are Cherri and Angel?”

You have no idea, but your first guess has you looking toward the sex rooms in the back of the club.

“Jesus Christ… they’ll find their own way home. Come on, we’re going back to the hotel.”

You don’t appreciate being dragged out of the club like a misbehaving child, but as the alcohol clouds your thinking, you can’t quite formulate a protest.

Considering how pissed off your admirer must be right now, maybe it’s for the best that you don’t stay.

—

The walk back to the hotel is blurry; if Husk had anything to say to you besides pissed off obscenities muttered beneath his breath, you don’t remember it. Your next memory finds you laying on the couch in the lobby, your head aching from a combination of a hangover and the time spent laying on the couch’s arm with your neck at a weird angle.

“What time is it…?” you murmur as your eyes try to adjust.

“About noon,” answers Husk from the bar.

As you continue to look around the lobby, he appears to be the only one here. “Where is everyone?” you ask through a yawn.

“Angel and Cherri still aren’t back, but I’m sure they’re fine. Charlie and Vaggie left to give you some quiet. Alastor and Niffty…” Husk shrugs after their names, then falls silent.

You groan as you push yourself into a sitting position, one that has you facing Husk. He doesn’t appear to have anything to do, and is instead standing with his chin resting on his crossed arms atop the bar. An awkward silence falls between the two of you, giving you plenty of time to observe Husk’s body language, particularly the way his tail is lashing behind him while his ear gives the occasional twitch.

He is not in a good mood.

“Are you okay?” you ask. Your well-meaning question only seems to piss him off further; he answers not with a word, but with a growl. “Is this about last night?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists.

“I’m sorry I caused you trouble…”

“Wasn’t your fault.” His tail lashes even harder. “Just don’t worry about it, all right?”

You’re going to keep worrying about it until he stops looking so on edge.

“Thanks for getting me away from that guy last night,” you say, just in case you didn’t thank him in your drunken haze.

“Hey, it’s what a good bartender does. When you see someone starting shit with another patron, even if it’s not your bar, you take care of the problem. That fucker had no right to put his hands on you after you told him to cut it out.”

He may be gruff, but at least he has standards.

“Can’t believe Cherri and Angel left you alone in there… those two better not take you to anymore fucking sex clubs, you don’t need to be around shit like that…”

“I’m a grown adult,” you protest. “I didn’t want to sleep with that guy, but if I did want to get with someone at that club, that’s my business.”

Husk’s eyes widen for a moment, before he returns to his original dour expression. “Yeah… guess you’re right.”

“And what about you? You didn’t look interested in picking up anyone last night. Why’d you even come?”

“How do you know I wasn’t interested?” he shoots back. “Maybe I was interested in someone! Maybe I just… didn’t have the balls to go for it.” He stands up straight and shakes his head. “Look, can we drop this? Hang out in sex clubs if you want, I don’t fuckin’ care.”

He’s speaking with the tone of voice of someone who very much cares.

“I’m done with ‘em, though. You’re right, you’re an adult, you don’t need me hanging around like some fuckin’ guardian angel.” He pours a glass of clear liquid, and you expect him to down it himself, but he instead steps out from behind the bar still holding the full glass. “I overreacted last night. Shouldn’t have made it your fuckin’ problem.” He approaches the couch, takes a seat, and offers you the glass. “Here, one last favor. Drink this and I’ll get off your ass.”

You take the cup, wondering if for some ungodly reason he’s trying to get you to down straight vodka.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It’s water. That headache’s only gonna get worse if you’re dehydrated.”

You take a sip of the water, and after only a few swallows you’re already regaining a bit of your desire to live. “Thanks,” you say before taking another large gulp.

“No problem,” he responds. You expect him to return to the bar, but he remains next to you on the couch. His body language has gotten no less agitated. What is going on with him?

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you doting on Angel or Cherri like this,” you observe before finishing the glass.

“They’re used to it, and they’ve got each other,” he says as he takes the glass from you. “You want some more?”

You shake your head, and he remains seated with the glass.

“You, though… I don’t know, something about that guy just pissed me off,” he says. “Even before he started touching you I didn’t like him. Bartender’s intuition, maybe? I’m still not over the awful feeling he gave me.” He sighs heavily. “I just… hate the idea of seeing you get hurt in a place like that. I know Angel and Cherri can take care of themselves, but you’ve never seemed as wild as they do, so I wasn’t sure…”

“Is that why you were watching me the whole night?” you asked.

Husk’s body jolts. “Shit, you noticed?”

“I kept looking over there wondering if you’d ever move from that spot, and if you weren’t actively drinking you were staring at me,” you said. “You weren’t subtle.”

Husk groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I know you’re capable. I was just…”

“You weren’t there because you were interested in someone at all, were you?”

“I never said I wasn’t. I mean it when I said I just didn’t have the balls to say anything to ‘em. Instead, I just wondered… what I’d do if someone else asked ‘em. Knowing it’d be my own damn fault for not speaking up sooner. Trying to tell myself it wasn’t that big a deal if they went with someone else… until someone started flirting with ‘em, and touchin’ ‘em, and-” His body tenses as he growls, but relaxes after a moment. “Damn it, I haven’t had to do this in years...”

“Done what?”

“You know what I said about losing my ability to love years ago?” He turns his head and looks directly at you for the first time since he sat down. “...I think I’m remembering how to do it again.”

Things are starting to fall into place. “And the person who helped you remember is…?”

The slightest of smiles crosses his face. “Who do you think?”

You wouldn’t have guessed it before today, but it all seems so obvious in retrospect. He’d spent so many nights with you when he could have been in bed, just chatting with you or comforting you after a bad day. You’d really grown so fond of his smile, and Angel had told you before that he used to never smile.

But surely, you thought, he couldn’t have been smiling because of you…

“What am I even saying?” he asks as he turns away from you. “You died in the prime of your life, and down here you can have that prime forever. You could do so much better than a washed up old drunk.”

“You’re not washed up,” you assure him as you place your hand over his. “I think it’s great that you got to live such a full life! You have so many stories to tell, and so many talents… I bet there’s so much you haven’t told me yet.” You try to reassure him with a smile and a light squeeze to his hand. “So much you haven’t shown me, either. You talk a lot about when you were in a band, but I’ve never gotten to hear you play…”

“I haven’t touched an instrument in years,” he says. “I bet I don’t even remember how to play anymore.”

“Well, you don’t know if you don’t try, right?”

You don’t think you’re just saying that about instruments.

“It’s been such a long time… what if I screw up?”

You don’t think he’s just talking about instruments either.

“It can’t hurt to try. Maybe… maybe you’ll enjoy it even more than you remember.”

“Hmm…” He doesn’t seem fully at ease, but he hasn’t taken his hand back yet. “If I can get my hands on a saxophone, and I really haven’t forgotten how… sure. I’ll play for you.

…you just have to give me some time, okay? I’m not used to it anymore… especially with another person…”

“Take all the time you need,” you assure him.

He turns his hand around so he can hold yours back, and his smile seems to grow slightly. “Just gotta start slow… get used to things again…”

“You’ll be fine, I know you will,” you assure him. He seems content to leave the conversation there, but there’s one more thing you need to say. “Husk?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I’ll be going back to that club. No point when I’m not interested in picking up dates anymore.”

He squeezes your hand. “Glad to hear it.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #irk blubbers about nothing #irk got asked a thing #irk talks to strangers #irk huskposts

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fansplaining · 2 months

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Episode 218: The Money Question 3: Books???

Following previous installments on the thorny intersections of money and fanfiction, Episode 218, “The Money Question 3: Books???” tackles the recent debacle around people illegally selling bound copies of others’ fic, which has mostly centered on mega-popular Dramione works. Jumping off from Elizabeth’s WIRED article on the subject—which ties the practice to the current pull-to-publish wave as well as the Twilight fan-run presses of the early 2010s—Elizabeth and Flourish discuss the context collapse when a fic “breaches containment,” double standards in attitudes towards money and various fan practices, and, for likely the 1,000th time on this podcast, what exactly “fair use” means.

Click through to our site to listen or read a full transcript!

#fandom #fansplaining #fanfiction #monetization #fanbinding #books #fan-run presses #publishing industry #capitalism #mainstreaming of fandom

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qqueenofhades · 10 months

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JSYK the OP of the Crab Day post is a self-identified conservative Christian. Can't speak to anything she may have done or said, but I do know that Crab Day wouldn't actually fix Tumblr - the site is running a 30mil *deficit,* which is different from debt. All Crab Day would do would be telling staff that their current policies get users to send them more money, which doesn't actually change anything. Corporations change only when their business strategy is losing the shareholders money.

Gotta be honest, my friend, I'm... not sure what you're trying to do here? Warn me that the original post was made by a Problematic Person (tm) and therefore that must mean it's all wrong, or.... what?

We know that Tumblr badly needs money, because they have told us that and openly admitted that the unpopular new changes were spurred by a need for increasing revenue. I logged on just now on desktop and got a suggestion that I could purchase an ad-free browsing subscription to help support the hellsite (which is the word they used, because they have very much embraced the joke). I have in fact already bought an ad-free subscription, both because I like the product Tumblr provides and want to keep using it in its current form, and because it makes my mobile experience immeasurably nicer. I am well aware that especially in this era of social media sites dropping like flies, the continued existence of a platform that is 30-million-dollars underwater (however you want to split hairs about exactly how) is not a guarantee. And we all complain about Tumblr, but we have all been here a long time (me, uh, over 10 years), we have a solid community, there's no other alternative that's really ever come up or gotten the same kind of uptake, and if it went under, we would be uh, screwed.

Tumblr is kind of a mess, it's the antithesis of every social media site, and it doesn't (for now) have the crap that makes The Artist Formerly Known As Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram so utterly unusable, or if it does, you can (mostly) turn it off. That's why we all like it and why, even if we are resolutely anti-capitalist gremlins who resist being marketed to with every fiber of our being, it doesn't change the fact that servers, staff, and all the rest cost real human-people money which the site, by their own frank admission, is struggling to raise. Even if staff does often make crappy updates, they generally at least TRY to listen to us and include a feature to make it optional or roll it back, unlike certain unnamed idiot billionaires. Their mockery of other social media sites can sometimes be a little much, but for now, Tumblr is pretty much the last place on the internet that does what it does, and I like it that way. If it went under and took my blog of 10+ years and all my friends with it, I would be incredibly sad.

That being the case, and basic financial realities being what they are, encouraging people to toss a few bucks at a TOTALLY OPTIONAL and fun gimmick that increases functionality for a product we like is actually not a bad thing. TumblrMart has crabs, checkmarks, Ea-Nasir merchandise (seriously), ad-free browsing, etc., and if our choice is voluntarily supporting the site through fun (and again, OPTIONAL) purchases versus having us all be involuntarily subject to some horrible data-scraping mechanism or forced off altogether because they couldn't keep the lights on, that is fine with me. Nobody is making anybody do or buy anything. But if you like the product Tumblr provides and want a fun material way to show your appreciation, then I don't think it's some Great Transgression to participate in that.

#temperedknight #ask #crab day

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juniperskye · 9 months

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Until I Found You

***Potential spoilers of The Rookie***

Pairing: John Nolan x Fem Reader

Sneak Peek: After his breakup with Bailey, John is convinced he will never fall in love again…that is until he found you. (This is taking place pre TO Nolan) Reader owns a Café (food truck).

Fluff/Angst

Word count: 2851

Warnings: Reader has kind of spooky vibes, no use of y/n, Implied age gap, mention of food and eating (no explicit details), brief mention of crime (no explicit details), mention of past relationships, mention of unhealthy relationships, mention of getting ready for a date (details are feminine leaning – shaving, makeup, nails, hairstyling), developing strong feelings quickly, one teeny tiny kiss.

Not edited - please be kind.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

After his breakup with Bailey, John was convinced he wouldn’t find love again. How would it be fair for him to have had love with Sarah, Lucy, Jessica, Grace, Bailey and for him to expect it again. His love with each of those women differed from one another, but they all had played a very important role in his life. For the last few months John had really just been going through the motions; sleep, work, eat, repeat.

Today had been a particularly slow day on the job for John, very unusual for the LAPD. He had been riding alone today which was honestly making the day drag on even more so. He was counting down the minutes until lunch – at least then he would get to socialize with his fellow officers.

Two speeding tickets, one robbery and a stolen car later, it was finally time for lunch. Heading to their usual spot, John notices that there is a new food truck parked, black with orange script on the side spelling out “Hallowed Grounds” alongside little white painted bats. John’s eyes were drawn to this truck not because it is new, or that the line was at least fifteen people long, but because of the beautiful person running the window.

It was Lucy who had ultimately broken John out of the trance he was in.

“Hey, you okay? You were spaced out there for a second.” Lucy questioned.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m okay. What’s with the new truck?” John wanted to see how much Lucy knew without giving away the attraction he was feeling towards this stranger.

“Oh! It is all over social media, Hallowed Grounds, it is mostly coffee, but the pastries are to die for! I mean literally that is their slogan!” Lucy laughed.

“The line is pretty long, so it must be good. Should we check it out?”

“Sounds good to me!”

With that, John and Lucy made their way to the line. Lucy was talking John’s ear off about some new social media drama, but honestly John wasn’t listening, he was far too distracted by your beauty and the honey sweet tone of your voice. You had this way about you that was breathtaking, moving with grace and just so patient and kind to all the patrons who had been waiting in line. They were finally nearing the front of the line, and John had realized he hadn’t even looked at the menu.

“Hi there! What can I get for you?” You smiled at him.

“Hi, can I get a medium caramel latte and a lemon blueberry scone?” Lucy ordered with no hesitation.

“Of course! And for you?” You looked expectantly at John.

“I um, can I just get a black coffee and, no that’s all.” John stuttered.

Lucy looked over at him confused as she paid, and they walked over to stand near the pickup window. John took note of you disappearing from the window and a young man taking your place.

“Okay, I know that we did not just stand in that long line just for you to order a black coffee. What is up with you?” Lucy questioned John. “OH MY GOD! You think she’s cute, don’t you?”

“Okay, hush! I’d rather not scare the girl off before I even get a chance to talk to her.”

“Okay sorry! I’m just happy for you. You’ve been sulking ever since you and Bailey broke things off.”

“I have not been sulking…okay maybe I have. But I really thought she was it for me.”

“John and Lucy?” You called.

They made their way up to the window to pick up their orders.

“Alright Lucy, a caramel latte and a lemon blueberry scone, and for John a black coffee and a chocolate croissant.” I hope you guys have a wonderful day and stay safe!”

“Oh, I didn’t…” John started.

“Thank you so much, you have a wonderful day too!” Lucy cut John off and began to drag him away from the truck.

The two of them went to sit at a table with Tim, Aaron and Nyla for the rest of their lunch. They were all hoping it wouldn’t be cut short by a call coming in.

“Alright Nolan!” Aaron exclaimed as John sat down.

“What? What did I do?”

“The bag. The barista gave you her number!”

John turned the bag around and sure enough your name and phone number had been neatly printed along with a little heart. John looked at Tim, then Nyla and finally to Lucy. He hadn’t been expecting you to give him your number, especially not after he had made a complete fool of himself in front of you just moments before.

Just as Lucy was about to encourage him to text you, a call came ringing in over the radios. Everyone was quick to get up and head to their respective shops. John heard Tim and Lucy radio that they were responding, and that Nyla and Aaron were acting as backup. He figured they had it covered, and he would continue to patrol, but not before adding you into his contacts.

Three days.

It was three days before John had gathered the courage to text you. He hadn’t seen you either, since he’d worked through lunch one of the days, had a pretty big drug bust on the second day, and was assigned to the front desk on the third day. Today though, he had the day off and now was his time to text you and see if you would want to go on a date with him.

John: Hey, this is John. From the other day.

You: Hi! I was beginning to think that maybe I was too forward.

John: Oh, no, not at all! I’m sorry, things have just been really busy with work. I finally have a day off.

You: Okay, good! I’m sorry work has been keeping you busy. Hopefully you’ve been able to stay safe.

John: I have. Nothing too out of the ordinary this week. How have you been?

You: I’ve been good! I have been testing some new recipes and trying to figure out what to swap in for the fall season.

You: Speaking of which…would you like to be a taste tester for me? I could really use a customer’s perspective!

John: I would love to! By the way, that croissant was incredible. I was actually texting you to ask you to dinner.

You: Yeah, dinner and then we can go back to mine to try these desserts?

You: Wow that was also very forward…I’m not usually like this by the way!

John: No worries. I won’t read into it I promise. So tonight, can I pick you up at 7?

You: 7 is perfect, see you then John!

After confirming your plans with John, you kicked it into high gear. It was 10:07 a.m. and you had a lot to do before you’d be ready to go. You really needed to get your nails done, you needed to finish the 6 different pastries you’d been working on, and you’d really need to shower before you could get ready.

After doing some quick math in your head, you figured that you would have just enough time to get everything done provided you shower while some things were baking in the oven. With that, you place the pre-cut cookie dough into the freezer (these would be easy enough to pull out and bake later when you and John go back), you placed the muffins and two different loaves of bread in the oven. That just left the cake that you were actively frosting and the pie that was cooling. Once the cake was thoroughly iced, you threw the dishes in the dishwasher and headed towards the shower, not without checking your timer to make sure you’d have ample time.

You were sure to go through all the steps of what you’d consider a full shower, washing and conditioning your hair, washing your body with your best smelling body wash, and shaving essentially every inch of your body. You weren’t anticipating that anything would happen tonight, but you wanted to be prepared nonetheless and you’d make sure at the very least that you smelled good.

After drying off and throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, you made way for the kitchen just in time to pull out the muffins and the bread. You set them out on the cooling rack, turned the oven off and then you headed to your favorite nail salon. They were able to get you in right away seeing as it was 12:00 p.m. on a Thursday.

Your nail appointment ended at about 1:30 p.m., which gave you enough time to head over and check on your staff and the truck. Upon arrival you noticed there were a few police cruisers parked along the curb. You knew John was off today, but you still found yourself scanning the crowd for him.

“He’s not here.” Your staff, Ezra, had called over to you.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You tried to hide your blush, embarrassed about getting caught looking for John. Ezra was the one who had encouraged you to give him your number in the first place, having seen how smitten you were with John when you’d met him the other day. Ezra and you had been friends for years, he could read you better than anyone.

“Mmhmm, sure thing. It was a different group this time around. What are you up to? Aren’t you supposed to be off testing new pastries?” Ezra questioned you.

“I was doing exactly that when John texted me and asked me out! I went and got my nails done and figured I would stop by and see how things were going before I went back home and got ready for my date.”

“OH MY GOD! See I told you that if you gave him your number, he’d ask you out. There were definite vibes the other day, he was so enamored by you that he forgot to look at the menu!” Ezra gushed.

“Okay, fine. You were right. I’m kind of nervous, he’s taking me to dinner, then we’re going back to my place so he can taste the new desserts and give me his opinions on them.”

“Girl, you are going to be fine! He seems nice and you are an amazing person, no reason to be nervous. Plus, what have you got to lose?” Ezra had always been your voice of reason in times of need.

“Okay, yeah. I should probably get going then so I can get ready.”

“Okay babe, have a great night! OH and you should wear the outfit you wore to our opening party, it screams you and its hot!”

“Oh, that was a good outfit, I don’t know where he’s taking me yet, but it should be dressy enough.”

You said your goodbyes to Ezra and made your way back home. It was nearing 3:30 p.m. and you knew you should probably start getting ready. You grabbed a glass of water and then got to styling your hair. You curled your hair and applied some natural looking makeup and went to get dressed. To pair with the faux leather skirt and starry mesh top, you slid on some black tights, comfy socks and your Doc Martens. Looking over at your alarm clock you see 6:45p.m. glowing red and you decide to switch to a smaller purse in the time you have left before your date…your usual everyday tote bag not exactly matching this outfit choice. You’d opted for a small leather handbag, with gold accents, it matched your outfit perfectly and was better suited for the occasion. As soon as you organized everything into the purse a knock sounded at the door. You took a deep breath then walked to answer it.

“Hi!” You greeted John as you opened the door.

“Wow, you look incredible.” John was awestruck, you had such a different style than the women he had previously dated, but he was really loving it. You were so confident in your own skin, and you just had this glow about you.

“Thank you, you look very handsome.”

“Shall we?” John gestured to his truck.

You nodded and the two of you walked around to the passenger side. John opened the door for you then offered his hand to assist you into the truck.

“Such a gentleman.”

John blushed at the compliment, he tried to shake it off as he started the truck and pulled out of your driveway. You made small talk on your way to the restaurant, which ended up being a very nice steakhouse.

John parked and looked over to you, he made note of the way you were inspecting the sign, and immediately panicked.

“I probably should have asked and made sure you weren’t a vegetarian!”

“I’m not! I love a good steak; my dad is a self-proclaimed grill master!” You laughed.

John laughed with you and let out a sigh of relief. He once again opened your door for you and reached to help you out of the truck. He was so different form the men you had dated before, so polite and caring. He listened to what you had to say and even asked you questions to learn more about you. It was so refreshing to be around someone like him. Truth is, you had dated some pretty terrible people in the past and that was the main reason you were single now. You’d decided to take a break from dating and focus on yourself and your career, which is how you’d gotten to the point of owning a very successful food truck. You had explained to John that your end goal is to have a brick-and-mortar location of Hallowed Grounds that was a café/bookstore. You wanted to create a cozy space for people to hangout while they enjoyed good food.

John just sat and smiled, he loved how you lit up when you spoke about it. Seeing you so passionate about something was honestly inspiring. He hadn’t expected the feelings for you to be so immediate, so strong, just crashing to the surface as the night went on. John could feel himself growing concerned about whether or not you were feeling as strongly for him as he was for you. The two of you had just clicked and it was so effortless.

What John didn’t know is you were currently battling the same demons. Was it really possible to be this comfortable with someone after such a short time?

Dinner had passed far too quickly for either of your likings, you were honestly just glad that you had already planned to continue this evening. You weren’t ready to say goodnight to John just yet. As John drove you back to your place, he took a risk by reaching for your hand to hold, you were quick to slide your hand into his and you couldn’t help but blush. John couldn’t believe how soft your hand was and it made him think about how rough his must be from his years as a contractor, he shook the thought away as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

You made it back to your place relatively quickly and John once again made sure to assist you on the passenger side, only this time instead of offering you his hand, he was a little bolder. He’d placed his hands on your waist and slowly helped you out of the truck. You stood there, chest to chest, your breath hitching from the proximity. Your gazes danced over one another’s face, shifting from eyes to lips back to eyes, silently asking for permission. When you slightly tilted your head, John understood and reached his right hand up to cup your jaw as he brought you in for a kiss. The kiss lasted for what felt like forever but ended far too soon. You wanted to exist in this moment infinitely.

You and John held hands once again as you staggered to the door. You made quick work of the lock and invited him in, guiding him to the kitchen.

“You ready to try some desserts?” You asked.

“Absolutely!” John replied.

You blushed, realizing the double entendre and moved to get all the desserts plated up. You explained to John that you’d need to throw the cookies in the oven, but they only took about 10 minutes to cook. He nodded and asked if you needed any help with anything, which you declined and encouraged him to relax.

John watched as you worked in the kitchen, this had been your element and it was like a well-choreographed dance, the way you moved. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, picturing the two of you like this, years down the road. He knew that you had only just met, but after tonight he couldn’t deny the connection. He realized he had been wrong when he said he would never fall in love again. That was true, until he met you.

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xoxo-sarah · 3 months

Text

Let Me Show You

↝a/n: early Valentine's fic.

↝pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!reader

↝warning: slightly suggestive, Valentine's Day, kissing, lonely Steve, frustrated reader, not proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Buckley, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 2.1.24

As the warm sunlight filtered through the curtains, you stirred from your slumber, feeling the soft warmth of Robin's body beside you. It was Valentine's Day, and you had planned a special day for just the two of you. Gently, you brushed your fingers against Robin's cheek, inviting her to wake up with you.

As you both lazily opened your eyes, a soft smile stretched across your face. "Happy Valentine's Day." you whispered, leaning in for a tender kiss.

The start of the day was great. It wasn't until you two were in the kitchen, trying to put together breakfast that the phone rang, interrupting the intimate atmosphere.. Robin left your side to get it.

Frustration clouded your face when she made it known who was in the phone. "Steve, some of us have significant others who we celebrate Valentine's with." Her tone was playful, but you knew she secretly meant it. Every holiday started with a call from Steve. It was mostly to complain about him being single on such days. You and Robin had to invite Steve out of pity. You didn't mind it much. But Valentine's Day is the day for "lovers", not lovers and their friend.

You plucked the phone from her hand, "What do you want, Steve? Can't you see it's a special day?"

Steve's voice crackled through the line, his tone oblivious to your annoyance. "Hey, sorry to bother you, but I need Robin's help with something for work. It's kinda urgent."

You exchanged a knowing look with Robin. "Steve, listen up. Today is Valentine's Day, and Robin and I have plans. It's really not a good time for work."

Robin chimed in, her voice laced with both irritation and playfulness. "Yeah, Steve. Can't you see we're busy here? Leave us alone for a change."

Steve's tone changed, realization dawning upon him. "Oh! Oh, wow, sorry. I didn't realize it was Valentine's Day. My bad. I'll, uh, figure it out myself. Enjoy your day!"

As you hung up, Robin wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer

You smirked, leaning into her touch. "Thought you didn't care for Valentine's Day?"

Robin chuckled, her voice full of warmth and desire. "I don't. I just want to spend time with you."

You pinch her side, "How about you let me show you just how head over heels in love we can be, without all the cheesy stuff."

The rest of the day was filled with shared laughter, passionate kisses, and sweet, intimate moments that reaffirmed your love for each other. With each passing moment and bruising kiss, you both realized that Valentine's Day was simply a day to celebrate the love you had for one another, regardless of anyone else's expectations.

And in the midst of stolen glances and lingering touches, you both knew that this Valentine's Day would forever be etched in your memories as the day you affirmed that love transcends clichés and thrives on the genuine connection between two people.

At the end of the day, you did feel bad for poor, lonely Steve. So, who would it hurt if you invited him over for a movie night? It isn't third wheeling if he's invited.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

#📼#robin buckley #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fluff #xoxo-sarah 🩷

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