#but this time i think i'm happy with what came out

[frannyzooey]

Down the Hall

Frankie Morales x f!reader

Tags: Explicit, age gap because you know what I'm about (Frankie is your mom’s boyfriend, he is in his 40s, you are in your mid-20s)

A/N: Yea….so this is dedicated to @intheorangebedroom who inspired this entire idea and to @whatsnewalycat whose beautiful brain and writing inspired me as well. Thank you to @astroboots for cheering me on, to @bageldaddy for the super in depth beta and to @the-ginger-hedge-witch who soothed by "does this hit" worries — your minds are golden and I am so happy you support this utter filth. Ily ❤️

He thought that dating someone his own age would ground him, steady him. Not that he ever paid much attention to the age of the women he dated, but he thought with someone who had their own shit figured out, he might be inspired to do the same. 

Unmoored and unattached since he joined the army in his twenties, he was pushing forty now and craved some kind of routine. Living alone gave him too much time for thinking, too many hours spent inside his own head. He knew that living like that for too long could lead to bad decisions and thought he might hold himself to a higher standard when he saw how they held themselves to one. 

He met her at a bar – the most cliche of meeting places, but for good reason. She was out with friends after work and from the start, he was attracted to the way she smiled with her whole mouth. Everything about her seemed sensuous and fun, so inviting that he found himself drawn in and when he asked if he could take the seat next to her, he matched her smile with one of his own. 

When she invited him home that night, he buried himself deep while feasting on that generous mouth. 

He stayed that night, and then one night became twice a week, became three – and before he knew it, his lease was up on his apartment and he moved in. It was nice to come home to someone after work. To know that someone was there, wondering how his day went. To have a warm body curled up next to him in bed. 

She was so independent, so driven. A corporate job that required her to dress in slippery blouses and pretty skirts with heels; the same he loved to strip from her when she came home all stressed out the way she did sometimes. And she had a kid – a daughter – already in college somewhere on the east coast, but that didn’t bother him. Dating in his forties meant people already had their own histories, and he was no exception. 

Sometimes after she fell asleep and he had time alone to think, he still felt something that itched beneath his skin. Something that pulled at him from within, something that remained unsettled. He told himself that it was just an adjustment period after so many years of being unattached, and shoved those feelings deep down inside of him, determined to ignore them until he taught himself a new way to live. 

Her breathing deep and steady beside him, he told himself that she was good for him. 

That was what counted.

He was all for it when she told him her daughter was coming home to stay the summer between semesters. He liked the idea of having another person in the house – another distraction, another responsibility to take him out of his own head. 

He worked odd hours, and during his off days, Frankie took up the task of preparing her daughter’s old room. Light pink walls, a creamy bedspread dotted with delicate flowers: his mind supplied an automatic image of the little girl that lined the hallway in frames. He knew she was older than that now, but the way her mom talked about her, he couldn’t help imagining a little kid. 

Tasked with picking her up from the airport the day she arrived, he had just stepped out of the shower when he heard the doorbell. Frowning, he tugged a shirt over his damp curls, and opened the door.

Jesus Christ. Speechless, he stared at the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. 

“Sorry I didn’t call,” you apologized, tugging a heavy bag higher up on your shoulder. “I got in early and thought an Uber would be faster.”

He stood there for a moment, just staring, his mouth slightly parted in confusion. And then he saw it: the shape of your eyes, the curve of your lush mouth. The resemblance stamped across your delicate features.

“I couldn’t find my key.” You stood there, looking uneasy on your own doorstep. “You must be Frankie. Or is it Francisco? My mom said you’d be here. It’s nice to meet you.”

At the rounded sound of his full name coming from your mouth, his gaze snapped back to meet your eyes while you hung there, clearly waiting for him to say something. His body was slow to catch up with his brain, the little girl his mind supplied was gone, replaced by the vision that stood in front of him. Still young and fresh-faced, but grown nonetheless and so, so fucking beautiful. 

When you gestured towards the house behind him, he finally shook himself from the initial shock.

“Shit,” he apologized, stepping back out of your way. “Yea, it’s Frankie. Nice to meet you.” You gave him a half smile, and when you stepped inside, he reached for your bag. “Here, let me grab that.”

His hand dragging through his curls, he stood in the entryway and watched you make yourself at home: your shoes immediately kicked off on the doormat, your jacket hung neatly next to his own like it had always belonged there. 

“Do you know when my mom gets home?”

He cleared his throat, trying not to stare at the length of your legs underneath the hem of your shorts. “Uh, she said probably around six? That’s when she usually gets home.”

You nodded, holding your hand out for your bag and for a split second, he wondered if he should bring it upstairs for you. It would be the polite thing to do, but the idea of entering your room now felt like overstepping. You weren’t a kid, you didn’t need him like that. The boundaries had suddenly blurred and shifted, and he whisked away the image of you settling into your bedroom just as fast as it popped into his head. 

When you grabbed the bag from him, he felt relief. 

It was easy to avoid you for the afternoon while you got settled. Instead, he mowed the lawn, prepared dinner, all the while with his ears attuned to the sound of you walking around above him. He felt on edge, anxious. The excitement he thought he would feel with someone else in the house had turned into unease. 

He made himself an outsider, even more so when your mom came home. Not wanting to intrude on your time together, he stayed in the kitchen to cook dinner for the two of you and delivered it to the living room, placing your plates on the coffee table. 

“Thank you, baby, that’s so nice.” Your mother scooted forward, tilting her chin up towards him in a silent request for a kiss. 

Granting it to her, he felt her familiar hold slip around the back of his neck to keep him in place for a moment, keenly aware of the way you were right there. For a split second while his lips were still on hers, he glanced up at you and it was clear that he caught you watching by the way you hastily looked away the second he met your eyes. 

He fucked her hard that night, his hand over her mouth so you wouldn’t hear. 

She was gone in the morning when he made his way downstairs, and he was pleasantly surprised to find coffee already in the pot. 

“I made extra,” you said, from your perch on the chair at the table. Sleep shorts high on your thighs, an oversized tee shirt covering your top half. The way it engulfed you made you look younger than you were. 

He looked away, busying himself with pouring a cup. 

“I drink a lot, so I made a lot,” you explained with shy self-deprecation. 

“Sounds good to me,” he replied, sitting down at the table. “Got any plans for today? Or for the summer, I guess?” 

Wading the tentative waters of getting to know someone, he watched your fingers play with the edge of the paper. 

“Just relax for a bit, I think? Catch up with some old friends? No plan really. I just didn’t want to hang out on a deserted campus.”

He nodded. “Makes sense.” 

And so began the morning routine you would both share for the next few weeks. Hesitant and quiet around each other in the beginning, sliding into something normal fairly fast. Your mother was early to rise and early to bed, but he had never been and neither were you. 

He joined you in the late morning at the kitchen table, the curve of your soft cheek highlighted in the slant of light through the window. On the couch at night, a different kind of illumination from the light of the TV, yet hitting your cheek just the same. Your things scattered around the living room, your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom, your clothes mixed with his in the wash. 

Your proximity was what he blamed for the constant thoughts he had about you. 

Every morning he admired how rumpled you looked, how sleepy and soft and inviting. It was endearing, but soon other thoughts edged out the more innocent ones: thoughts about your legs wrapped around his waist, your slender fingers wrapped around something other than a coffee cup. 

The want he felt for you pooled in various places inside him: his brain, his chest, between his thighs. It spilled down the shower drain and spilled hot across his stomach. 

It flooded your mother’s mouth, and she was none the wiser.

Afterwards, she tucked her face into the meat of his shoulder, pressing a kiss against the skin there. Sated and content, she curled herself around him. “Let’s do something this weekend together. Actually make use of that pool we have for once.”

A barbecue. She’d been talking about having one for a while. 

“We’ve been working so hard. I feel like I barely even see you, honey.” 

Something akin to guilt tugged at him, thinking of the shifts he had been picking up in an effort to avoid you. Your eyes, your smile, your stupid sleep shorts.

He hummed his agreement and she kissed him in thanks, her breaths eventually evening out as she fell asleep. 

Frankie lay awake, the image of your closed bedroom door stuck in his mind. 

–

“Jesus Christ,” you murmured as you watched Frankie climb out of the pool. 

Broad, bare shoulders, tanned swathes of skin, cute little dimples just above his ass. Water ran down over his tanned skin, the thin material of his swim shorts stuck to his ass and when he turned around to grab a towel off a nearby chair, you were glad for your sunglasses.

Fuck me. 

The material of his shorts molded to every inch of his thick cock, the shape clearly outlined. Oblivious, he ran the towel over his curls, over his shoulders and arms, down his torso – and when his hand gingerly pulled the material away from his crotch, you memorized the swirl of dark hair that surrounded his navel and led down.  

“Can you help me with the grill, honey?”

Your mom’s voice pulled your attention away from him. 

Her boyfriend, you reminded yourself. Frankie was her boyfriend.

“Yea,” he called back, chucking his towel on the chair. “Be right there. Let me put a shirt on.”

The shirt he shrugged over his head was the same one you folded that morning. The material was threadbare and super soft, the muscles of his back shifting underneath the thin fabric as he sauntered over to the grill. You knew the way it felt in your hands, and at the thought of his body heat through the material, you pressed your thighs together. 

The afternoon sun bathed you in warmth, but it was nothing compared to the heat that pooled inside your bottoms as you continued to watch him from your recline by the pool. His brown curls glinted in the sun, his throat bobbing with a swallow when your mother brought him a beer. 

When his eyes flashed over to you, you finally looked away. 

You saw those deep, doleful brown eyes in your sleep. 

You felt them on you all the time: in the dark living room during family movie time, your mother curled up against his side. In the kitchen after dinner, when you loaded the dishwasher while he put away the food. In the mornings, when you pretended to read the paper while he snuck hooded peeks at you and drank you in. 

Startled by his handsomeness from the very first time you laid eyes on him, your crush only grew with every passing day spent in his company. He was so thoughtful, so attentive and kind, but it was something else buried within his gaze that drew you in. 

A barely restrained want that shone clear on his face every time he looked at you. A need simmering under the surface, you saw the way he fought it. 

You thought about him constantly: imagined him crowding you against the counter in the kitchen, saw him pulling back the shower curtain to join you, pretended your fingers were his in your bed at night. 

Born out of your own need, you pushed him. Played with the limits of his self control, desperate for him to make a move. No action overt enough to be blatant, the way he stared at you made you feel confident, bold. The want pouring off his skin when you hung around him was obvious and thick, filling the space between the two of you until he inevitably excused himself. 

When it’s time to eat, you take a seat next to him on the bench, your thigh pressed hot against his. You waited for him to pull away, but he never did and the intimate sensation of the hair on his leg brushing against your own smoother skin made it hard to eat, though you missed it when he got up. 

Your mother, one margarita too many and giggly and loose, pulled him into a dance under the stars that had just begun to come out. He humored her, wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her close, smiling at every murmured secret she slipped into his ear. 

You watched the scene unfold right in front of you with a fond, humoring expression, and his eyes kept finding yours, flashing in the darkness. 

You pretended nonchalance, but the entire time, you wanted. 

He took her to bed while you cleaned up the kitchen. 

You knew he fucked her – you heard it sometimes. They tried to be quiet for your sake but sometimes a whimper would slip down the hall, the deep reverberation of a groan in the dark. 

Climbing into bed that night, your mind lingered on the image of his wet swim trunks. The dark swirl of hair, the heft in the outline. 

You wondered what he fucked like with a cock like that. 

–

“Something’s going on in the Arizona market,” your mom explained, tossing items into her suitcase. A silk blouse spilled over the side, and you tucked it back in with the rest. “I’ll be gone through Thursday, maybe Friday? Hopefully not the weekend, but I’ll let you know.”

“Do you need a ride to the airport?” 

Smiling at you, she stepped forward and cupped your cheek with her hand for a moment. “That’s sweet, honey, but I’m good. Frankie’s got it.”

Apprehension swirled with anticipation, the joint feelings settled low in your gut. You’d been alone with him before, but never for this long. Never truly alone, for days on end. 

The man himself poked his head around the corner of the doorway, the width of his shoulders filling out the frame. He glanced at you, and then his watch. “You about ready, baby?” 

She bustled around the room, tossing things here and there onto the bed and he looked at you again, a slight frown pulling between his brows. 

His expression gave something akin to frustration, and for a split second, you thought it was because of the time your mom was taking. When you felt his dark eyes drop down the length of your body involuntarily and then back up again, you turned away with a small smile, knowing it to be something else. 

–

For the first couple days, he stayed away from the house as much as he could. Kept his distance until he ran out of errands, until he drove down the same stretch of road too many times. He didn’t trust himself to be alone with you, and he hated himself for it. 

Self loathing creeped in every time he thought about the way his jeans tightened even thinking of you alone in the house. His girlfriend’s fucking daughter, half his age. The whole thing was fucked up. 

And yet, he couldn’t stop. 

He felt bad, thinking of you suddenly being all alone after spending so much time with people around, but he told himself that you probably loved having the space to yourself. 

He came in the shower that morning to the thought of your mouth wrapped around the base of his cock, and he was unable to look you in the eye when he saw you in the kitchen afterward. Your hopeful expression lingered in his mind all day as he stretched out the hours. 

The sky turned from light blue to dark, and he finally caved. He couldn’t stay away forever. 

The house was quiet when he walked in, tossing his keys on the entryway table. He crept around, looking for any sign of your presence, until he heard the shower running upstairs. Light spilled down the staircase, and heading into the kitchen, he tried to push down the thoughts running rampant in his head. 

He drank a glass of water, listening. 

The shower turning off (your naked body, damp and warm), your footsteps padding down the hall (that smooth skin, hidden under your towel), your bedroom door shutting (the towel dropping onto your floor). 

He stayed downstairs, turning the TV on to distract himself, the air in the house charged with a magnetic pull from your room. He waited until there had been nothing but silence for the better part of a half hour, then dared to venture upstairs. 

He’d just say goodnight, that’s all. Just so you knew you weren’t alone. 

His knuckles rapped against your door, and he pushed it open when he heard you say come in. 

“Hey,” you greeted him, slight surprise on your face. Stretched out in bed, the inviting cloud of your comforter was plush underneath your body. You paused the movie you were watching, and sat up on your elbows. “Haven’t seen you in a couple days.”

“Yea,” he replied, leaning against the frame of your door. His eyes followed a slow path up your bare legs. 

“Work been crazy or something?” you asked.

“Something like that, yea,” he answered. His hand stayed on the knob of your door, an anchor that kept him from crossing a line. “I actually just stopped by to say goodnight. I’m gonna turn in.”

“Already?” you teased. “It’s pretty early, isn’t it? Aren’t you gonna live it up while my mom is gone?”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve lived it up enough. I’m an old man, remember? We don’t do that kind of stuff.”

“Forty-five is hardly an old man,” you scolded with a smile. “You wanna watch a movie instead?”

You patted the bed next to you, and his face sobered. You didn’t see it, instead reaching for the lotion on your bedside table to work some into your hands and the image of you jerking his cock with that same lotion flashed across his mind. He frowned. 

“In here?” 

You shrugged, laying back down. “I mean, I’m already all set up in here…”

You left the offer hanging, and even though he knew - he fucking knew he shouldn’t - he found himself nodding. 

You looked surprised at his answer for a split second, and then pleased. 

“Let me go get changed.”

He walked down the hall towards his room, scolding himself the entire time. Don’t do this, don’t do this, don’t go back into that fucking room. Don’t think about how smooth her skin is and how much you want to kiss her.  Don’t think about how her sheets smell like her, don’t think about how much you want to lick her cunt. 

The thoughts ran on a loop as he peeled off his work clothes. 

They echoed in his head as he pulled on his sweats. 

They followed him out of his bedroom and all the way down the hall, stopping at your doorway.

You turned your head, looking at him expectantly, looking so fucking lush and innocent, so eager to have him join you. 

He swallowed hard, mouth watering and left his guilt in the hallway, joining you in bed.

–

Pretending to ignore the heavy blanket of tension pulsing between your bodies, you kept your eyes fixed on the screen. 

Stretched out next to you, he kept a respectable distance, but you felt the heat that poured off of his skin. He looked so large in your bed, so much like a man. His long limbs splayed out over your girlish comforter, his masculine scent filled the space and when he crossed his arms, you admired the way the hem of his sleeve stretched around his bicep. 

Lightheaded and trembling with a heady want that ached between your thighs, you made it through the whole movie – until the room descended into darkness, until the credits rolled and the screen went black  

Until it was just the two of you sitting side by side in the dark. 

The sheets rustled when you rolled onto your side to face him. 

“What did you think?” you asked quietly. 

He looked down at you from his slouch on the bed, and your fingers twitched with the need to smooth away the crease that rested permanently between his brows. You would think he was mad if not for his eyes: those always look conflicted more than anything. Constant turmoil, roiling deep within the dark depths. 

Not answering, he stared down at you for a long moment before shrugging. 

“Okay, I guess. Well, have a good night.”

He then started to slide off the bed. 

Disappointment flooded your chest, the tension that you’d been feeling for the last two hours releasing restlessly through your limbs. Already making plans to get your vibrator from your side table to use while burying your face into the sheets he was just sitting on, he stilled. 

Your eyes fixed on his broad back, you could almost see the decision being made and he quickly turned before he could convince himself to stop. 

Bending down, he kissed you. 

It was consuming. The brush of his mustache, the taste of his mouth, the weight of his solid body as he pushed you into the bedding, draping it over yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth to slide against your own, and he swallowed the soft sound that caught in the back of your throat. Pushing himself into the cradle between your thighs, he forced them open wider as he deepened the kiss, and his dry, calloused hand slid underneath the hem of your shirt, wrapping around your hip. 

You knew you should push him away, but your hands only dragged him closer, grabbing everything you could touch: the slip of his curls, the curve of his whiskered jaw, the rounds of his broad shoulders. You dug your fingertips into his sides as he ground his hips against yours and your knees hitched higher around his torso. 

His hand wrapped around the top of your shin, pushing down to hold you in place.  

“Jesus,” he breathed into your mouth between kisses, his fingers tightening in their hold before sliding down to touch everything he can: the meat of your hips, his big hand cupping your ass with a greedy squeeze. Need rolled off of him in waves, his touch betraying just how long he had thought about this and his mouth shifted down to devour the long line of your neck, tasting the sweet hollow of your throat. 

Your pulse beat fast under his tongue, speeding up when he let out a groan against the sensitive skin. 

“Take – take this off–” he sat back on his ankles, his hands fumbling with your shirt.

As soon as you pulled it over your head, his mouth latched onto your nipple. His tongue swirled around it, sliding over the peaked bud with a suck. His beard scraped across your sensitive skin, leaving a wet path that glistened over the plane of your chest as he dragged his mouth to your other breast and his heavy hand reached down to cup you wholly over your sleep shorts. 

His fingers dug into the dip of your entrance and the heel of his hand ground hard against your clit. 

“I can’t stop thinking about this pussy,” he confessed. His fingers rubbed harder, and he groaned hot against your skin. “I can already feel how soaked she is for me. How much she wants it.”

You nodded with a whimper, rolling your hips into his touch. “God yes. Please.”

He pulled back just enough to stare down at your face, his pitch black eyes sliding over your features to settle on your open mouth. “Tell me you want this. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

“Yes. Please, please,” you begged.

“It’s gonna be a lot, baby.” He wetted his bottom lip with his tongue, his hand working, working, working. “She’s gonna need to be wet to take what I need her to take.”

A fresh wave of arousal washed through you, and your sleep shorts clung to your center with every grind of his palm. His thick fingers nudged the fabric to the side, exploring. 

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, releasing a heavy breath. “Fuck.” 

His eyes fluttered shut with a frown as his touch slid through your soaked seam and kissing you again, he timed the slide of his tongue with the slick stretch of two fingers. 

Your thighs opened wider around his waist, a whine crawling out of your throat when he pushed them deeper and when he started a smooth, audible stroke, you started to ride his hand. 

You’d been watching his fingers for months: wrapped around the steering wheel in the car, loosely cradling the neck of a beer bottle, drumming against his thigh when he watched TV sometimes. You’d imagined them tucked inside you so many times, buried in your mouth or your cunt, and as he worked a third one in, you let out a filthy moan. 

“I gotta work it open, baby,” he soothed, pulling your earlobe between his lips. “It’ll be okay. I know you can take it.”

His hips started to follow the rhythmic roll of his hand and when he seemed satisfied with how much you could take, he slid his fingers out, reaching to tear his shirt off over his head. When he pushed his fingers into his mouth for a moment, his lips wrapping around his knuckles as he sucked your taste off the thick digits, his hooded eyes took in the way you scrambled to take your sleep shorts off. 

Following your lead, he dumped everything onto the floor beside your bed, and it felt like heaven when you felt his bare skin against the inside of your thighs. So broad, so firm and strong, his body pressed you into the mattress and you felt the hot, pulsing heft of his cock pushing against your cunt. You clenched at the teasing sensation of what was to come, and reached down to grasp him, but his hand caught yours and pushed it into the bedding above your head. 

“Let me do it. I wanna watch your face when I put it in,” he confessed, resting his weight on top of you as he reached down with his other hand to guide himself in. 

Sticky slick smeared between the both of you, and when the tip of his cock forced you to bloom around him, his eyes fixed on your face. Greedily, he devoured the sight of your mouth dropping open, a tiny tiny frown appearing between your brows and he thickened inside you, pushing forward.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “It’s so much.” So much more than you ever thought it would be, even with all the months spent imagining it. 

He bottomed out and the air froze in your lungs, your cunt stuffed fuller than it’s ever been. 

“Shhh,” he soothed, staying in place to let you adjust. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re so fucking tight, baby. So tight.”

Squirming underneath him, you hitched your knees higher around his torso and he rocked his hips to slide halfway out before grinding back in with a weighted push. He gave you a minute: a tense minute, a minute thick and full of wanting, a minute where all you could focus on was the stretch of his cock and the heated bulk of his body and the firmness of his chest pressed against yours. 

He brushed his lips against yours, and gently rolled his hips. 

“Do you know how much I’ve thought about this? About fucking you, in this bed?” His voice deep and breathless, it sounded overwhelmingly intimate breathed against your cheek. 

You shook your head. 

“I thought I was the only one,” you admitted. “I used to think – oh fuck – I used to think about you coming down the hallway in the night. Crawling into my bed and fucking me just like this. Just like I can hear you fuck her.”

“You listen to me fuck her?” His hips rocked forward a little faster, picking up pace. 

“I can’t help it,” you whined. “The sounds – the sounds you make. I wanted to make you make them. I wanted to be the reason.”

His fingers pushed through the hold of your own, locking your hands together above your head and he dug his knees into the bed for leverage. Your breasts shifted underneath him, bouncing lightly as he fucked into you harder and his eyes dropped down to watch. “You are, baby. You are. I think about you all the time.”

Building steadily underneath him, your head pushed back into the bedding and his mouth found your throat, his teeth scraping against the tender skin. His hips never stopping their filling grind, you pushed your fingers through his curls and when he bit down with a suck, a slurred yes slipped out of your outstretched throat. 

You imagined your mom seeing it, asking you if you went on a date with someone. 

His strokes got harder, harsher, his hips snapping against yours and digging your fingers into the soft globes of his ass, you forced him deeper. When you clenched around his thick length, he looked down at you, wrecked and desperate. 

“I wish I tasted you,” he groaned. “Next time, okay?”

You frantically nodded, unable to focus on anything but the bright, shining edge of your release. 

He could see it, feel it in the squeeze of your soaked cunt and his vision blurred around the edges, his own want building at the base of his spine. 

“You gonna come?”

You are. The sounds he’s making above you and the way he feels inside you and the scent and need rolling off his skin and those fucking pitch black eyes that have been in your dreams for months – 

Slick dripped down the curve of your ass, your hips locking up underneath him and when you came with a silent cry, he groaned deep and loud, fucking you right through it. 

“Tell me I can fucking come inside you. Say it,” he pleaded, fingers gripped on your chin to hold your gaze on his. His words punctuated by the snap of his hips, you nod your head. 

“Do it,” you whined.

Your fingers threaded through his curls, it’s the tug that you give that does it. Coming harder than he had in his fucking life, he filled your tight cunt with thick ropes of his spend. Endless, smeared over the shaft of his thick cock as he continued to pump into you because he couldn’t stop, slipping out to drip onto the delicate sheets below. 

“Christ,” he groaned, his jaw clenched as the veins in his neck strained above you, his hips stuttering. Slowing them into a languid roll against your own, his softening cock was still a thick, filling weight inside and when he looked down at you, you recognized the guilt that already flooded the brown depths. 

You stared right back, holding him tight. 

“Stay,” you murmured, holding him in place when he started to roll off of you. 

You wanted to remember this. The hot press of his skin against yours, tacky and slick with sweat. The warm gust of his breath over your lips, the rapid beat of his pulse under his flushed neck. The wild curls that stuck damply along his hairline, the brush of his fingers as he tenderly thumbed at the curve of your jaw. 

He swallowed and you could see the war in his eyes, something you recognized as being there from the start. His hand curled over the crown of your head, and you pressed a kiss to his throat. 

“You can’t –” he started, eyes fluttering shut at the press of your mouth. “You can’t tell your mom about this, okay. We can’t say anything.”

We. You reveled in the sound of the word, your head nodding underneath him. A secret to share. Something for the two of you alone. 

“I won’t,” you promised. “Just don’t leave, okay?”

You felt small and vulnerable asking, and when he looked down at you, a glimpse of the girl he imagined on that very first day tugged at his memory. Not the age he pictured of course, but the way you needed him. 

The way he wanted you to need him all along. 

His face nuzzled yours, his nose sliding across your cheek. A kiss pressed against the soft, youthful curve of your cheek that he had admired for months, he nodded with your sweet taste still lingering on his tongue. 

“I won’t, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales/you #frankie morales/reader

[loganshouseofworship]

Can you do something with Logan that is super angsty? Maybe you two get in a fight over his career and your career? Then both of you realize that you can live without each other and end up getting back together.

Thank you!!

I can’t live without you — Logan Sargent x reader

“I can’t do this anymore Logan,” you said, cramming your clothes into your suitcase.

“Do what? What’s going on?” Logan asked

“Stand by and watch as Williams destroys your career” you said.

“Williams isn’t destroying my career, what are you talking about?” Logan says slightly, raising his voice.

“Yea they are Logan but you're so blinded by your loyalty to the team you can’t see it” you yelled through the tears.

“Wait a minute, you can’t leave!”

“Yes, I can” you said, your voice steady but tears were flowing down your face. “I can’t do this anymore”

“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore!” Logan yelled as you went to slam the door shut, but Logan grabbed the door and stopped it.

“That team is destroying you Logan, it's taking its toll on your mental health. you can’t keep putting yourself through this” you said, as you put a hand on Logan’s arm.

“Williams doesn’t care about you. They used your signing as a PR move to bring in more American formula one fans and you're too blind to see that” you tell him.

“Don’t say that! Williams cares about me! They brought me in, they believed in me!”

“That’s just what they want you to believe. They’re using you…I don't know why I'm wasting my breath. I know you're going to stay. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean you left a team that loved you and cared about you, and now you're throwing it away for a team that's going to drag you through the mud.”

“Stop. Stop saying those things.” Logan said harshly. “I’m not throwing anything away. My loyalty to Williams is what’s been pushing me to do my best and not make a mistake.”

“Keep telling yourself that Logan” you say finally leaving the hotel room.

“No, wait!” Logan yelled into the hallway as you shut the door. You kept walking and didn’t turn around.

“Damnit!” Logan yelled.

“She’ll come back, she’ll come to see that it’s all going to be okay.” Logan muttered to himself.

Hours later, Logan was sitting in front of his laptop in the dark looking at old pictures of them together.

A photo of you two, looking happy came into view.

“Maybe loyalty isn’t the most important thing?” He whispered to himself.

A few weeks have gone by since the Australian Grand Prix since the night you left Logan alone in the hotel room. Logan’s home race was coming up and he wasn’t going to lie he was nervous as all get out.

Logan missed you and he realized that you were right about the team. They didn’t care about him, not like you had. Fans started noticing that Logan was looking more tired and exhausted than before the bags under his had darkened. They looked so dark that it looked like he had black eyes.

Logan’s eyes were red from lack of sleep, from stress, from working nonstop to show the team what he was made of. He looked so worn out, and it was breaking your heart. You knew that he was pushing himself too hard, and it was beginning to take a toll on his mental health, and you just wanted to be there to support him.

The race weekend was approaching, and he was still working late into the night, trying to perfect his setup. Logan’s exhaustion was beginning to show, he looked like a shell of himself. He had lost weight, and his eyes were dark and sunken. The fan base was starting to get worried about him.

You weren’t doing much better yourself. You were worried sick about him, every day. You’d lost weight, you could barely sleep because all you did was worry and think about him.

Your friends tried to comfort you, but you weren’t listening to anyone, you were focused on one thing, on getting him back.

You would spend all night and day looking for flight deals online, trying to find a way to get home and see him again. But every time you looked, they were all sold out. It felt like the universe was against you, but really it just wanted you to wait a little bit longer, to wait until the right time to reunite you.

You would constantly check the calendar, seeing how many days there were left before you could get on a flight and see him again.

Time was passing so slowly, and it felt like it was never going to end. But then finally, the day came when your flight was confirmed, and you were on your way back.

You were just hours away from seeing him again, but the feeling of relief and anxiety were equally strong. You knew you wanted to see him, but at the same time, a part of you was scared of what he would say, or that he might have moved on.

You landed in the US, and you could barely contain your emotions, you were nervous and excited, and a million other things at the same time, as you got to your car. You just wanted to get to the hotel and see him as soon as possible, but at the end of the day, you also wanted to get it right, to do this the right way.

Your stomach was in knots as you pulled into the hotel, and you felt your heart racing. You couldn't believe you were actually doing this, you couldn't believe you were actually back in the US.

You took a deep breath, and walked through the doors into the hotel, up to his room.

You stopped in front of the room, taking a moment to collect yourself before knocking on the door.

After what felt like an eternity, he opened the door. Logan’s face had gone pale, and the stress and exhaustion that had been weighing on him disappeared.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, his mouth was dry, and he could barely get the words out.

“I had to see you, I had to come back” you replied, trying to get the words out.

He opened the door wider, inviting you in, you slowly walked past him, and he could feel the tension in the air.

“I’ve missed you” Logan whispered, his heart began to beat faster and faster, he was overcome with emotion, and he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“I’ve missed you too” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, and burying your head into his chest.

He pulls you even closer to him, not letting you go.

The air felt thick between the two of you, neither wanted to break the embrace, neither wanted to talk, neither wanted anything more than to feel close to each other again.

Finally, after a long moment, he broke the embrace and stepped back, wiping his eyes, he had almost cried right then and there.

“I’m-I’m so sorry” he said, unable to stop the words from pouring out.

“For what? “ You asked, you had no idea what he was apologizing for. All you knew was that you wanted to be in his arms again.

“I know I’ve been distant recently, and I haven’t been there for you” he said, taking your hands in his. He stared into your eyes, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your face.

“I just…” he began, but choked up, unable to find the right words. His lips trembled, his face twisted in regret and guilt.

“Just what?” You asked gently, trying to understand what was going on.

“You were right, my loyalty to the team has taken everything from me”. He said, his voice cracking as he fought back the tears.

“What do you mean?” You asked, he was starting to not make sense, was he just tired, it must be that, because you had no idea where this was coming from.

“You were right about the team, you said that they didn’t care about me, that they were using me as a PR move. And I tried to deny it, I tried to deny everything you said, but it’s all true…”

“I’ve pushed myself to the point of mental exhaustion, and all for what, I’ve been so blind thinking that I needed to do this, but the truth is I don’t, I don’t need Williams, I need you…” He said, staring back at you.

“Do you need me?” You said, his words caught you off guard. The reality was hitting you, he needed you, he didn’t need the team. He needed you.

“Without you, I’m lost” he said finally, admitting it out loud, he took a deep breath. “I’ve been so worried about losing Williams, and I should have been worried about losing you.”

“I need you Logan , I've missed you so much” you said, tears now spilling down your face.

“I’ve missed you too” he said, wrapping his arms around you once again. You could feel the tension in the air subside, and the stress that had been weighing on you both disappeared. It felt almost as if you’d never been apart.

His grip tightened around you, not wanting to let you go, like he needed to hold you just a little bit longer. You could feel him taking deep breaths and his heartbeat steady. It was like he needed the two of you to be as close as possible for a minute, as if he needed to make up for lost time.

“I’m never letting you leave again” he said softly, tightening his grip once again. You could feel his heart rate settle, and you could feel the tension ease even greater. It felt like home.

@a-casual-romantic @amatswimming @bblouifford @bbtoni @jinx53 @jeffs77 @toasttt11 @hrts4scarr @faithshouseofchaos @vellicora

#logan sargeant #williams racing #formula 1 #formula one #logan sargent fluff #logan sargeant fluff #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargent #logan sargeant x you #logie bear #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #formula one fluff #formula one x reader #formula one oneshot #formula one angst #f1 x y/n #williams f1 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x female driver #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc #formula one imagine

[fandomrose]

Sunday - Love Hypnosis

Sunday hypnotises you (consensually) to relax you.

No spoilers.

No description of reader or readers troubles so project what you are personally struggling with as you see fit.

No angst just fluff. I thought this concept would be cute. I've seen many a yandere Sunday hypnotises you, and that's great but consider - consent and fluff.

(This isn't a jab, I too enjoy a yandere fic from time to time but I also want to see fluff and I haven't seen this done in a fluffy way yet.)

I don't know why I'm mildly obsessed with this man but I am. (Cough Cough, I read maximum ride as a kid and now I automatically fall in love with winged characters. Cough Cough.) I need him to hypnotise me please and thank you.

(I have a few fics in the works that I need to finish but I'm struggling.)

As usual enjoy. Love ya 💙

"Darling?" Came the light and airy tone of your beloved. Though there was a hint of worry in his voice as he took in your face down, slumped form. "Are you alright?"

He could tell very well that you were not alright. But he would coax an answer out of you one way or another. Though the only answer he received was a groan.

"Darling." He sighs but chuckles at your obviously aggravated self. "Allow me to help you."

Your body goes limp as you let him move you from a sofa to your shared bed. "My darling. Tell me what's gotten into you."

He chuckles as you groan out a single word relating to your issues. "Life."

"Oh, my darling. You'll let me soothe you for the night won't you?" He only felt it was right after the many nights you had soothed him.

Patient, kind, understanding. Three words that when asked by others what you think about eachother, you'd both say about eachother. A pure give and take without a scoreboard, that's how you operated. You were both busy or stressed for one reason or another so that's how things had to be.

The simple love you shared was enough most days but sometimes things went wrong.

Sunday had performed hypnosis on you before so he knew it worked but he'd never engage unless you agreed. You knew the question he asked meant he wanted to soothe you via hypnosis, and with the state of your mind you would happily agree.

"Please do."

He wouldn't offer if he didn't have the energy you knew this, a rather large argument took care of that when he'd overworked himself then passed out after hypnotising you once and a medic had to be rushed in. Needless to say, you weren't happy with his carelessness. And seeing how upset you were he agreed to be more careful with his health.

You didn't want to think anymore so as you lay there looking up at him with your tired eyes and weary mind, he smiles. He caresses your face and hair before taking a deep breath and reciting that familiar chant.

"Oh triple faced soul, allow me to take hold of this one's mind and soothe them of all worries and burdens. The word Beloved will be the catalyst for control."

With that simple incantation your mind belonged to Sunday for a short while. Your mind felt fuzzy and slow but not unpleasantly, the way it would when you achieved complete relaxation.

Like he had done before, he would take you through your nightly routine with this hypnosis.

"Beloved, follow me to to the bathroom." He helped you up while your body automatically followed his words and stood up.

Walking was about the most complex task you could complete, he wasn't Xipe Themself, so his power only went so far.

"Beloved, lift your arms."

You do as told and he aids in stripping you, ready to be cleaned.

"Beloved, sit on this stool and close your eyes."

You again do as told his voice muffled through the layers of hypnosis, but soothing nonetheless. "I am going to wash your face first darling." He always narrates what he does before doing it as not to startle you.

You felt a cool, wet, cloth glide over your face and you can't help but sigh with satisfaction. You feel it gently caress your cheeks and softly rub your eyes tickle behind your ears. You hear the cloth being rinsed and wrung, the muffled sounds of the water soothing you further.

"I am going to wash your upper body now darling." And, as before, you feel the damp cloth glide over your neck and upper body, letting him move you has he sees fit. Soft humming coming from him lulls you deeper into his hypnosis. The cloth glides down and caresses your chest before moving to wash your back. You'd make sounds of relaxed satisfaction if you could but your exhausted body coupled with the hypnosis has made your brain devoid of any thought or control. Just how you want it.

He moves back to the front of you with a new cloth. "Beloved, spread your legs, I need to clean you."

Your body complies without hesitation and that's what he does, making sure to be extra gentle around this sensitive area. He is thorough but doesn't linger long this time, not wanting to spark anything in you this evening.

Standing to switch the cloth again, "I'm going to wash your legs and feet now darling." Still being as gentle as ever his hands and the cloth slowly makes their way down your legs massaging them as they go. A light massage is given to your feet as well before he finishes and pats you dry with a towel before he deems your body clean.

"Beloved, open your mouth wide."

He orders next, your mind too fuzzy to think of what else could be doing. You hear more water then feel a hand on your chin. "I'm going to brush your teeth darling." Then light scrubbing of your teeth and tongue can be felt, he is thorough with this area too. Not wanting to be the reason you have cavities he takes his time

Not too long later he finishes with you. You can hear things being put away and muffled sounds of him walking around you, maybe inspecting you. Before he stops infront and,

"Beloved, open your eyes and stand up. Its time to go to bed."

You're led back into the bedroom now that he is satisfied that you are clean. "Beloved, are you ready to sleep?"

Compelled to answer, you do. "yes"

"Beloved, do you want to sleep with me?"

"Yes"

"Good, let's get to sleep then shall we."

The sounds of fabric and draws is all you hear for a moment before he guides you into bed with him.

"Beloved, lay down."

When hes satisfied you are comfortable You feel his soft skin against yours, the wings on his head lightly brushing your face in reverence before he pulls them back. It isn't often he blesses you with his naked body, the vulnerability gets to him at times.

Once you've layed down and he's pulled you close he asked one more question.

"Beloved, are you ready to be released from hypnosis?"

"Yes"

As the words leave your lips he beins the incantation to remove his influence on your mind.

"Oh triple faced soul, this one has completed this ones tasks and can now be freed from the shackles of my control with no burden."

Everything goes still as your senses return slowly, reaclimating you to reality. A few minutes pass of him softly stroking your head and neck while you come back to him.

"Thank you Sunday" a soft whisper conveying how grateful you are before you promptly pass out the exhaustion and relaxation hitting you full force as you melt into the bed and his arms.

"Oh my beloved, I'd do anything to see you happy and relaxed like this more often. I am grateful for all you do for me so it's only natural. I love you, so much my beloved."

He whispers to your sleeping self, pressing small kisses to your forehead, cheeks and nose. Watching the small twitches at the contact makes his evening amd he feels like he too can finally relax.

#hsr x reader #hsr sunday #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x reader #honkai star rail x reader #i needed fluffy hypnosis so i wrote it myself yay #i headcanon him as so.eone who would excessively use pet names because he finds them cute #and a sense of ownership but shush #but hes really just a tired dude whose life is spiralling out of control and i just want to hug him and stroke his wings #maybe reverse comfort for him next #i have a Neuvillette amd a clive rosfield fic in the works #i want to write for Aventurine but im a bit scared #also ratio #i love him more than i did when he was introduced thanks 2.1 #anyway excited for patch 2.2 Sunday. wanna see him go even crazier but also see him nice and relaxed you know? #the duality of man #this isnt my best work ever but im happy ish with it and just want to get it out. #if you do have constructive criticism thats fine please and thank you

[emphistic]

Em, lovely Em, how are you? Let me tell you I'm super proud of your progress so far <3

Soooo I'm here with a little proposition, two options for you to choose from...

1. (Low key) Princess treatment

2. Late night drive

With who else than the love of our lives SUKUNA RYOMEN!

-With love starlet★

A/N: hi hi hi, starlet, i am doing pretty good actually except for the new crack in my phone screen, but thanks for asking! and i really appreciate that — hard choice, but i choose option 2

The wind rushed through the open windows and pervaded the car. Your hair blew and billowed. And Sukuna watched you through the mirror as the moonlight fell upon your face, gracing your already blessed features, and goddamn, Sukuna thought you looked absolutely ethereal in the night.

The music blasted from the car’s built-in speakers, but he had already stopped listening an hour ago, more focused on staring at you.

“You cold?” Sukuna asked, in that deep, raspy voice of his — that you had grown accustomed to after these last few weeks.

“Mhm. Just a little,” you nodded, leaning onto the head rest behind you and turning around to face the man himself. Sukuna laced his fingers through yours on the console between the both of you, a warmth fluttering in your stomach in an instant.

This whole arrangement between the two of you. . . It all happened like a blur. You guys had met through a mutual friend at a college party and had hit it off ever since. What started as innocent tutoring sessions turned to friendly hangouts. Consequently, those turned to dates, and those dates led to now: present time — where you two were in relationship. A secret one, at that.

The mutual friend was Itadori Yuuji. Let me rephrase that, he’s your friend. But not Sukuna’s, because, well, they’re brothers, actually.

You didn’t mean to hide this whole thing from Yuuji, you just didn’t know how he’d react if he found out. Would he think you two were going behind his back? Would he accuse you of using him to get with his brother? You weren’t, and you never would try to get between the Itadori brothers. It’s just . . . you felt guilty about this whole relationship thingy. You loved Sukuna, you really did. And you loved Yuuji, as a friend, of course. But, you didn’t want to cause any misunderstandings or any problems, so you and Sukuna came to an agreement about keeping this under wraps.

However, unlike you, Sukuna couldn't care less if his younger brother found out about the both of you. But choosing to respect your wishes — like the good boyfriend he was, he would keep things low key, just for you.

So, late night drives like these were one of the only opportunities the two of you had to have time to yourselves, without having to worry about any younger brother finding out.

Sukuna pulled up into an empty parking lot; you guys usually drove around for an hour or two, listening to music, before parking the car and chatting to your hearts’ desire.

“So. How was your day, baby? Anyone bother you? You don’t look too happy. Do I need to kick somebody’s ass for ya?” Sukuna turned to face you, but like always, you shied away and avoided his gaze.

“Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you.” Sukuna hooked a finger under your chin and lifted your head to meet his eyes.

“That’s better. Keep your eyes on me, pretty girl.”

You complied, though your eyes flickered between each of his, contrary to his unwavering stare.

“My day was fine. I just . . . I’ve been thinking about your brother: Yuuji, and—”

Sukuna rolled his eyes; you paused. “You’re seriously thinking about another man right now? Even when I just asked you how you were doing? Can’t believe this shit.” Sukuna scoffed, though you knew he was only joking. Or so you hoped. . .

You cheekily giggled. “C’mon, ‘Kuna. Don’t be that way.” You cupped the side of his face with your free hand; he leaned into your palm, placing a tender kiss upon it.

“Anyway, as I was saying.” You cleared your throat. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to continue what we’re doing . . . together.”

At this, Sukuna lifted his face away from your palm, his hooded eyes staring back at yours, waiting for you to explain yourself.

“Fuck you mean this isn’t a good idea?”

“I—how would Yuuji feel if he found out? If we told him now, he would probably ask why we didn’t tell him earlier. And then what would we say? That we didn’t even plan on getting into a relationship in the first place? And we were just friends with benefits?”

“Do you want to tell him?” Sukuna pursued.

“I . . . don’t know. I mean, we were just fucking around earlier. And then we got exclusive. And . . . I thought you weren’t really looking for an actual relationship. As boyfriend and girlfriend, I mean.”

“That’s complete bull. Don’t let me catch you saying that crap ever again.” Sukuna grabbed your face in his hand when your eyes started to drift elsewhere. “You’re the only girl I would ever even think about dating. You hear me? So get that shit out of your pretty little head.”

“Okay.” You nodded. “Okay.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear. Anywho, go on. Tell me about your day. I’ve been longing to hear your voice ever since I started my shift.”

“Oh, please.”

“Deadass.”

You started to talk about your classes, your annoying professors and their annoying assignments, your lunch that took ten minutes to arrive at your door, you told Sukuna everything. Well, you were planning on that. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure start to approach the car. Though they were still a long distance away — fortunately — they were getting closer, and Sukuna didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy listening to you speak your heart and mind.

Your eyes widened, and you shook Sukuna’s arm, as if to get his attention. Which, in that case, did nothing, really, because his undivided attention was already on you, but maybe you forgot. Silly you.

“Babe—babe, I think there’s someone in the parking lot.”

“No shit.” Sukuna let out a laugh.

“No, like, besides us. I think they’re getting closer to the car.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, assuming your eyes were just playing a trick on you, but then he saw it. He saw what you were talking about.

There was indeed a person — a man? Perhaps so. And they were quickly approaching the vehicle. In the light of the posts, it could be detected that he was wearing nothing other than black and dark colored articles of clothing.

What the hell?

All the shops and restaurants in this area were closed, save for the 7-Eleven, but that wasn’t as relevant. There were no cops or cop cars, nothing, so who was this person? And what did they want?

“Kiss me.”

“What the what? Are you okay?”

“Damnit, always making me have to do everything these days.” Sukuna grabbed your face in his hands, squishing your cheeks together in the process, and messily slotted his lips against yours.

Your lipgloss smeared across his mouth and even added a little shine to it, but neither of you paid attention to that.

And albeit a little surprised at first, you melted in Sukuna’s hands and kissed back sooner or later. You guys moved against each other like rabid animals in heat, well—Sukuna did, you were a little more civilized than the pink-haired man. Which wasn’t a new thing.

But could you really blame Sukuna? When he tasted you against his lips, he nearly went feral right then and there. You were as sweet as the day you guys first indulged in something like this together. The real reason he started calling you ‘sweet thing’ in the first place.

While trying to catch your breath, you murmured against his lips, not yet pulling away, “Is he—is he gone now?”

You felt Sukuna smile against your lips, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards.

“Been. Been gone, sweetheart. For probably a few minutes now. Coward turned into a straight pussy. I saw his face; he looked ‘bout ready to piss himself when I shoved my tongue in.”

You pulled away — emitting a disappointed groan from the man — to fix your messy hair and overall disheveled appearance altogether, before moving to wipe the remnants of lipgloss off Sukuna’s face. He, in turn, only pushed back his hair, not really caring about how he looked on the outside.

Let people know, let people know he just made out with his favorite girl. If he really felt like it, he would even make a full PSA for the world to see.

“So. . . You still want to stop this thing between us?”

“Oh, shut up.” You delivered a light slap to his arm, before attempting to stifle your growing grin.

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside

#sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff

[fraugwinska]

What about the reader found and old radio, they thought the radio was broken but it's not, it's just antique.. when they play it at night time alastor broadcast was heard first they feel something is odd.. but they love to listen to his voice, heck they even like talking to each other, because of this encounter alastor talk about it to rosie, she was happy hearing alastor telling her stories but she feel odd when alastor mention that the person he talks to is a human, Rosie giving him advice to not fall for human because they're different species, and it will make him weak etc.

Alastor feel guilty and agree with rosie advice so he's stop contacting the reader from the radio, he thinks that the reader will be fine but no the reader take it personally.. they thought alastor don't want to talk to them anymore.. it drive them mad and lead to suicide..

So yeah angst :D

Oh Anon. What have you done. I cried while I wrote that - it took two very good friends of mine to encourage me to post it (Thanks to @macabr3-barbi3 and @mysterypotatoink). But I think it's tragic and beautiful, and honestly - I'm kinda proud of it! TW: Psychological Trauma, descend into madness, loss of self care and suicide - please take care of yourself and do not read if you aren't comfortable with any of the mentioned! MINORS DNI Here we go.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Leap of Faith

You carried in the last box from you banged-up minivan. The old thing barely made it to your new home. A little cabin in the outskirts of New Orleans, a little off the grid and surrounded by the peaceful and whirring bayous of Louisiana.

A fixer-upper, just like yourself.

The online auction had intrigued you the second you found it, the photos were a bit blurry and you knew it was a risk to buy a place you've never set foot in, but something in you called you to get it. The price you paid was laughable, barely making a dent in your savings. Moving states sounded scary and impossible, but you felt oddly calm about it. You didn't have a lot of stuff to move anyway. After all, you only lived with your late grandmother, and she never really cared for material things. Your parents left you at her doorstep, never to be seen again.

Caring for her in her last, sickness-ridden years had been a no-brainer - it felt like nothing in comparison to all she had done for you - but it also had been a bit lonely. You had your friends, if you could even call them that, but you rarely saw them - guiding your nan through the last months of her life had been demanding and time-consuming. It had left you exhausted and emotionally unavailable, and after a while, calls and texts ceased, until it was just you and her. You felt lost, as if the world was slowly pulling away from you.

When she finally died, peacefully in her sleep, you felt sad, relieved and drained. Detached from the city you lived in. Lost. So you decided to sell what little you inherited, except for a few sentimental mementos, and move away from it all. To start a new life, a happier one, finally one that was truly your own.

You took the final box inside, setting it on the coffee table and wiped the sweat from your brow. You looked around the little cabin: The roof had some spots that needed a patch, and the wood floors were a bit warped, but it was all yours. No more having to share anything with anyone.

The cabin came furnished, a lot of the stuff was old, but still usable. You figured that would change once you settled in and had a vision of what you wanted and needed to buy. The thought of thinking about no one but yourself made you nervous. But a little excited, too.

The old furniture would do for the moment, but there was a particular piece that caught your eye: an old, vintage cathedral radio, sitting nestled in between a cracked wooden box and a tarnished, bronze candle holder in a bookcase that was a bit out of place in the tiny space. With a tilted head, you stepped closer to inspect it, drawn to it by it's unique character and beauty. It looked as well-loved as it looked well-used, the mahogany a bit scuffed, the knobs a little worn from years of being turned. But there were golden details etched into the front, and you traced them lightly with a finger, strangely touched and intrigued.

You were certain the old thing didn't work, but when you plugged it into the nearby socket, static erupted from the speakers, making you jump back. You had to smile, though. Tonight, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have this little device and a little music for good company.

***

"I'm home!" you announced to no one in particular, as you closed the door behind you, your hands full with overfilled grocery bags full of necessities, waiting to fill your empty cabinets.

The day had been hot, but a welcome breeze of the impending night break cooled the inside of your little cabin a bit. With a quiet grunt you set the paper bags down at the small kitchenette. Your groceries were quickly dispersed, and you put on an apron you saved from your grandmother as you got started on dinner.

You hummed as you cut vegetables and boiled water. It had been a long time since you had cooked, really cooked, your nan wasn't much for eating and had no problem living off of simple soups and toast. When you opened your fridge to get some butter, your glance fell onto the radio.

A little music would be nice, you decided, and you walked over, cleaning your hands on the red, frilly cloth around your waist before you turned the dial. The soft sound of static made you hum in contempt - yup. Still works. A little turn to the left, and the room was filled with a soft jazzy tune, the melody a bit grainy, but you didn't mind that at all. You returned to the stove, swaying your hips to the beat as you worked. The music made you feel at ease, and for a moment, the world seemed to be just right.

Just as the onions began to brown in the pan, the song faded out to a voice. You turned your head to the radio, intrigued by the unusual, eccentric accent of the host. It reminded you of the old, vintage films and recordings your grandmother had been fond of - wasn't it called 'transatlantic'?. Whatever it was, it made you smile.

"Now wasn't that a kick in the head, dearest listener? I sure hope you enjoyed the little musical interlude, but it's time to return to the real show! As usual, my name is Alastor, and you are listening to the best jazz, blues and swing music that Hell has to offer!"

You blinked, a little puzzled and yet amused. "Sure is hot as hell today, strange man in the radio.", you mumbled, chuckling as you stirred the bell peppers under the caramelized onions.

"Today we have a very special guest joining my humble broadcast, it seems. Pleasure to meet you, darling, quite the pleasure!"

"Oh who? Me?" you asked, looking theatrically over your shoulder with batted lashes, shaking your head over your own silliness. You weren't used to talking out loud to yourself, or even really thinking out loud. You were always alone, after all, but the little pretend-play was fun. You laughed a bit, waiting for the host's guest to speak.

"Of course you, little dove. Who else would I mean?"

You gasped, and nearly dropped the spoon as you whipped around, eyes glued to the humming, orange glow of the radio in the dim darkness of your living room.

"What's that? You're surprised, my dear? Don't worry, you're not the only one! This is a first for me, too. Never had a human join my program. I must say, I'm quite intrigued! Tell me, what is your name?"

Your eyes grew wide, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. You took a hesitant step backwards and hit the hot stove, making you curse under your breath. Was the heat finally getting to you?

"Don't be shy now, darling. I'm not gonna hurt you, cross my lil' old, blackened heart."

"I-I'm..." you began, swallowing as your fingers tightened around the wooden spoon. "My name is..."

"Yes?"

"I'm... crazy.", you mumbled, rubbing a hand over your face and chuckling a bit. You were just going insane, that's all. Must be the stress, combined with the intense heat. And lack of a companion, a tiny voice reminded you. Yes. Must be.

"Hello crazy, this is Alastor." The host laughed, together with a canned audience.

"Alastor...", you repeated, realization settling in - this wasn't a joke, or a trick of your mind.

"At your service, my dear.", the voice cooed. "Now, I believe you still owe me your name..."

***

You weren't crazy.

Or if you were, you didn't mind. Not with Alastor by your side - or, to be exact, in the radio on your bookcase.

After two weeks of ignoring the cursed radio after unplugging it in a wave of panic on your first night, your morbid curiosity got the better of you. You plugged it back in, and turned on the dial. Just once, you told yourself, then never ever again.

And that's how the two of you got in contact with each other once more. Alastor was as chipper as the first time you heard him, and after a bit of back-and-forth, he promised once again not to harm you, and you shared your name with him. The rest was history. He was very pleasant company. For a demon from hell.

You wouldn't classify the conversations you had with him as a real friendship in the beginning, but you did talk. Occasionally. Mostly in the evenings, when you cooked dinner: He'd ask you about your day and would pry eagerly for a little bit of gossip or new information about the modern New Orleans. When he let it slip that he lived in this very cabin in the 1920's, you weren't stopping with questions about what it was like back in his days, which he, in return, answered generously and enthusiastically.

The first few times he would try to coerce you into making a deal for your soul, casually sprinkling the offer into his small talk, but with enough blunt refusals and a few more days of radio silence (pun intended), he dropped the topic and seemed content on just talking. You, in return, found yourself relaxing into his charming company, your brain happily engaged with trying to wrap your head around him, or better, you tried to come to terms with it.

Weeks passed, and turning the radio on in the evenings became less of an occasional lapse of judgment but more of a routine you were looking forward to. You could tell the Alastor felt the same, his banter became less tense and acted, and a little more genuine. It made your heart swell in happiness, that someone out there seemed to appreciate your company – even if that someone wasn't human. Apprehension became amusement, and fascination became friendship. Oddly enough, you found common grounds in a lot of things: A love for cooking and good music. Preferring books over films. Red wine over white. A shared aversion of vulgarity, and appreciation for good manners.

Your nights were cut shorter and shorter, you would spend hours chatting on and on, until the deep darkness of night disappeared into a shade of blue on the horizon. Neither of you minded, at least that was what you thought. Alastor never ended the conversations with you. Either you had to say your goodbyes, or you would just fall asleep after hours of talking on your couch, and awake with a pained back to a shut-off radio. Then, after you'd realize that you would have a whole day ahead of you without hearing his voice, the loss would make your chest ache.

Two months into the 'thing', which was still a strange concept you could barely comprehend, the truth of the matter dawned on you: You liked him. Not just because he was a surprisingly amicable voice coming out of your vintage radio, a lively constant in the uneventful life you had made for yourself in Louisiana - he had become important to you, irreplaceable, even. An essential element to your life. You couldn't imagine how you'd gone so long without him, and yet, here you were, lost without him, scrambling through the hours until you could talk to him once more.

"Something on your mind, darling? You're awfully quiet today."

You held your fork and knife still above the salmon you had just been about to eat. It was the first meal of the evening in a long time where you weren't spending the entirety of the preparation time speaking to him, lost in thought about your blossoming feelings. He had gotten excellent at reading you like an open book - you should've gotten used to it after a couple of weeks of him catching on to every little change in your demeanor and knowing just what to say, when you were feeling happy, upset or nervous.

"Oh, um... no. It's nothing Al. Work had me in a wringer today."

"Is it your co-worker Susan again?" You could basically hear his eyes rolling, making you chuckle. "That name must be cursed, every single soul with that name is a menacing pain."

"Maybe,", you muttered, nibbling on a piece of the roasted fish. "This one is mostly just an ornery old bitch."

"Taking the words right out of my mouth, dear." he laughed.

There's was a comfortable pause, with just a gentle background noise of his ever-playing static and an easy, melodic tune coming from his program.

"Is that really all that preoccupies that pretty little head of yours?"

You blushed, picking at the food with your fork. "Bold for a guy who's never seen me to assume my head is pretty."

The radio crackled with pops and feedback. "Bold to assume I can't see you whenever I want, little dove." he said, his voice strangely deeper, tinged with something you didn't catch at the shock of his words.

"You... what?"

"And I can most assure you,", he purred out of the speakers, "pretty is a well fitting word to describe you."

He hummed in approval when your cheeks gained color, as if he knew his comment threw you off guard and made you turn a lovely shade of pink, but it didn't make it any less enticing.

***

"Alastor, if I didn't know better, I would say you have become smitten with this mysterious gal you're blabbing on and about."

Rosie giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful, friendly swipe. "When will I meet her? Come on now, you can't hide her forever. Or are you afraid she'll like me better?"

She laughed, and Alastor forced a toothy grin. His long time friend was the only one he talked about you with, and he knew she was intrigued whenever she could smell a blooming dalliance, especially with a notoriously abstinent bachelor like himself. Normally, he would laugh at that thought with a healthy dose of mockery, but he found himself to be less and less aversed at the thought - if it would be you. Impossible, of course.

"Nonsense, Rosie dear, nonsense,", he chuckled, taking a large sip from his coffee cup, a heavy hand bringing up a plate stacked with finger sandwiches. "And I'm afraid you won't meet her for a long time, maybe never. Humans seldom traverse to hell in their lifetime, and who knows if the little darling will take on the trip downstairs?"

Rosie coughed in her tea, her blackened eyes wide in shock. "Human? It's a human girl you've been courting here? Oh, Alastor, you old fool."

Alastor scrunched his nose, "Talking, Rosie, talking is all we do. And yes, she's a human. I don't see the quandary in that. It's just a little fun." "Well,", she huffed with a small, thoughtful frown. "I would've hoped for a little more sense in you." The tall demonesse set down her teacup with nimble fingers. "You may not call it courting, but if it quacks like a duck, it's a duck, love." Rosie ignored the indignant look Alastor gave her. "You know as well as I do that such a connection is dangerous to entertain. Humans are fragile and fragile things tend to break. And when they do, the owner mostly follows. You need to break this connection off."

Rosie gave him a sad look as his ears flattened against his head. She would've been more than happy for her oldest and dearest friend to have a partner on his side, someone good and honest who really cared about him, maybe loved him even, as unlovable as he was. But she had to protect him from the silly idea of possibly falling for a living, breathing and supposedly untarnished soul, and the heartbreak that would surely follow. "Don't make the mistake of breaking your heart, dear friend." she smiled, a tint of melancholy hidden in the red of her lips.

"I think it's far too late for that."

She offered a handkerchief, but Alastor waved her off, his smile more faint and close to a frown than she's ever seen.

***

The first day where nothing but static noise came out of the radio, you were irritated but just thought: 'Maybe Alastor has something to do'.

The second day of static you grew concerned. 'What if something happened to Alastor? Was he okay?'.

On the third day, you were panicked. 'Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you anymore! Maybe he met someone in hell, someone that he could talk to whenever he wanted and not through an old, dusty radio?'.

"Please talk to me.", you whispered into the empty room. Your knees were pulled to your chest, and you sat on your couch, eyes fixed on the radio in the bookcase. Your eyes stung with the tears threatening to spill. "Please, Al. I miss you." You shook your head, chuckling sadly. It had only been 3 days, but they'd felt like an eternity. The world had seemed silent without Alastor's constant chatter.

When night fell for the fourth day, you were half asleep, eyes red and burning and tears still staining your cheeks. You talked for hours into the void of your house, the radio now moved to sit in front of you on the coffee table, growing more and more desperate as hours passed. Talking faded into pleading, and pleading into begging.

"Please, I'm sorry, if I did something wrong, I'm sorry...", you mumbled into the wooden furnishing, resting your cheek against the top of the machine, eyes slipping shut with fatigue and defeat. A dry sob slipped past your trembling lips, as your hands desperately grabbed the sides of the antique device.

"Alastor please, don't leave me alone here...", you whispered with the last of your strength, before your body succumbed to your exhaustion, your unconscious mind welcomed the darkness.

If you had stayed awake for just a moment more, you would've, maybe, heard the faint shuddering breath beyond the static rumble. But you didn't. So you had no chance at knowing that, Alastor, listening to every word, saw and heard you at your weakest, and all it did to him was stir the embers and give the blaze an opening for the flames of his anger at fate to rage.

Work had called, again. Susan of all people. Threats were made - either come back to work, or don't come back at all. You smashed your phone. It was useless anyway. What was the point without...

Alastor wasn't here, hadn't answered for seven days now. And you had spent the whole time talking, begging him to show himself, just show himself and tell you what you did wrong, just talk to you one last time and then you'd stop, if that was what he wanted. You became obsessed with the orange light of the illuminated screen, imagining the flickers were maybe signs from him.

You stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped almost anything, you just sat, in front of the radio, unmoving and unwilling to miss the smallest sign of his return.

Every single minute stretched into agony, and every breath that left your lips made a fresh tear roll down your paling cheeks, until your body couldn't produce them anymore. Then, you cried wordless whimpers and moans, even started praying to an unknown entity.

It wasn't as if Alastor owed you anything. It's not as though you thought the two of you were anything other than two kindred souls, one human, one demon, talking to each other. As a result, it wasn't like you had the right to anything from him. It was strange to consider the connection the two of you shared: Something more than acquaintances, something closer than friends, and yet never fully crossing the line beyond it. The unpenetrable boundary dividing life and death in between.

Your eyes fell on a large, old crucifix on your wall, staring back at you with pity.

For the first time in days, you left the sofa, took it from the wall and burned it on your gas stove, watching the face of the nailed figurine slowly melt in the fire.

***

It had been eight days of excruciating, one-sided silence.

Eight days Alastor cursed his cowardice as he sat, red eyed with claws digging into his scalp, as he listened to you plead for him to talk - To answer. To do anything. Anything, but leave you alone, he heard, as if the words were spoken right in his ear.

Eight days of watching you slowly detriment from the eyes of the shadows he was able to manifest above, tugging on the very fabric of the world to move you, to keep your mind from going where it shouldn't go.

He kept telling himself it was for the better. His shadows murmured persistent reminders that he should find entertainment in your growing lunacy. He was the radio demon, after all. He shouldn't care if this wisp of a human were to perish, should laugh at your wails of agony and despair.

But Alastor never felt less like laughing. Your dried sobs and pained apologies for things you never did wrong in the first place filled his head, taunting and gnawing on him with feelings he thought he was unable to feel: Guilt and Regret.

It was as Rosie had predicted - he was becoming weak. But weakness was something that should be avoided. Had to be. He knew. Being weak, being feeble, would make him vulnerable, make him into the prey his cruel from already portrayed to the world he had to inherit. He couldn't allow it. Couldn't let his feelings for you bring him down to the levels of the sinners in hell he would tear apart and laugh while he did it.

That's why he stayed silent. Endured it, all of it, every word, cry and plea. Stayed invisible and silent, waiting for you to move on, forget him, shut off and leave the radio, never to turn the dial again. For your sake and his.

When the connection broke, on that eight day, Alastor could feel your resignation, your peace with which your pale hands gripped the electrical cord at it's base to pull. And he was suddenly filled with the awareness of something horrible, like a premonition. It set his already battered, aching heart in an ice cold grasp of dread.

His room exploded in green light as he expanded into his full demonic form, his limbs threatening to pull and burst at the stitches and his smile splitting his face almost entirely in half. He had to reach out, had to reform the connection to the radio one last time, even though nearly impossible.

You were about to do something he would never be able to forgive himself for.

***

Your car broke down just where it needed to. You took the radio out of the trunk, knocking the hood two times for a goodbye, the key safely in the ignition. Maybe some other poor soul would find and repair it, make happier memories with it.

You clutched the wooden device closer and started to walk. Indigo blue faded into black as you looked up to the sky that was sprinkled with glowing, shimmering silver dust, stars blinking in the unimaginable distance. There, but out of reach. Just like him. Your dry sob stung in your throat, but you didn't really feel the pain. Your eyes were fixed on the path to your final destination, right in front of you.

The Crescent City Connection Bridge was mostly abandoned by traffic at this time of night and provided just enough covered spaces to hide you from some foolish saviors eyes.

You didn't need to be saved.

You didn't want to be saved.

Because you were about to save yourself.

There was nothing waiting for you in the other direction than the one you were going. So, with slow but steady steps, you walked towards the middle of the bridge, settling on a place next to a metal pillar and looked over the railing onto the shimmering waters of the Mississippi River.

Alastor had told you about the river, how he loved to watch the steam boats floating on it from the radio station where he worked at when he was alive. The station was long gone, you didn't even find out where it had been in the first place, but you liked to imagine that you were looking at the same scenery now that he had been looking at when he peered out of his booth in his radio tower. It made you smile through the tears... You were glad the end was somehow connected to him, even if it was most likely just your naive imagination.

It felt like the device in your arms was emitting static energy, prickling over your arms, hands and fingers as you caressed the mahogany wood gently, feeling as though the radio was shaking in your hands, trying to pull you back from the fenced ledge.

A quiet sob escaped your lips, turning into a giggle and into hysterical laughter. You sat down between the railing, and hugged the radio close, trying to breathe as you closed your eyes, resting your temple on the worn, warm wood.

"It'll be okay, Al.", you said quietly, your voice unnaturally hoarse and rough from lack of use and dehydration. "I'm coming. I'm coming to you.”

With one arm around the radio, holding it tight against your chest, you turned to stand on shaky legs, gripping the railing with one arm and, with one final glance at the stars above you you smiled. You heard sirens in the distance, and some people shouting from a sparkling streamliner passing under the bridge. Time was running short, so you didn't wait to put first one foot over the fence, then the other, taking a deep breath.

"I guess doves were always meant to fly."

And, with that, your body twisted, turned and leaped, falling as the light on the radio, firmly pressed against your heart, began to glow in deepest crimson and swirls of green.

Falling like an angel would descend from grace.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angst #trigger warnings #minors d #minors don't look #minors dont touch #yes I'm crying #you're crying too #we all cry here #no judgement #quickf #quickfic

[deliciousangelfestival]

Unexpected Trip

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Some people think you're too good for Bucky, who they see as just a nobody. Little do they know the backstory of both of you from 5 years ago.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you!" The cheery chorus filled the sunny garden as friends and neighbors gathered around. Balloons bobbed in the breeze, and the table was adorned with a colorful array of treats.

Your son, Tommy, was wide-eyed with wonder at the commotion, his little hands clapping together with glee.

You knew he was too young to remember this day, but the joy on his face was enough to make every moment worthwhile.

Bucky, your husband, stood beside you, a proud smile on his face as he watched Tommy's excitement. "Can you believe he's already three?" you said, leaning over to Bucky, who nodded, his eyes never leaving Tommy.

"I know, it feels like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital," Bucky replied, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Time really does fly."

As Tommy blew out the candles on his cake, the guests cheered, and Bucky wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "I'm so glad we decided to have this party," he said, planting a kiss on your cheek. "Even if he won't remember it, we will."

You smiled, feeling grateful for this moment of togetherness. "Me too," you said, watching Tommy's delighted face. "Here's to many more birthdays filled with love and laughter."

As you, Bucky, and Tommy were lost in your own world of celebration, the neighbors, known gossips of the neighborhood, couldn't resist whispering among themselves.

"I heard she got promoted to become the Director," murmured Mrs. Jenkins, a woman known for her keen interest in everyone's business, her eyes darting over to where you and Bucky stood.

Mrs. Thompson, a perpetually nosy neighbor, chimed in eagerly, "Wow, I knew she's a career woman since the first time I met her." Her voice carried a tone of admiration mixed with a hint of envy.

Standing nearby, Mr. Wilson, a retired gentleman with a penchant for spreading juicy tidbits, leaned in conspiratorially. "And she has a perfect house-husband," he added with a knowing nod in Bucky's direction.

The fourth neighbor, Mrs. Patel, a woman with a sharp tongue and a love for scandal, couldn't resist joining the conversation. "I don't want to sound rude, but she's too good for Bucky. He's just a nobody," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Mrs. Jenkins leaned closer, her eyes widening with exaggerated shock. "And guess what?" she whispered, drawing the others in.

"What?" Mrs. Thompson asked eagerly, her curiosity piqued.

"I heard a rumor that Bucky used to be a driver, like a courier," Mrs. Jenkins revealed,l.

Mrs. Patel gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her chest. "Omg! And he met Y/N? He hit the jackpot!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening as if she had just uncovered a scandalous secret.

Mr. Wilson chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I think in Bucky's previous life he saved a universe," he joked, adding to the whimsical nature of the gossip.

Meanwhile, you and Bucky remained oblivious to the whispers behind you, too engrossed in Tommy's joyous laughter as he played with his friends. Bucky had his arm around you, pulling you closer, unaware of the drama unfolding in the background.

Little did the gossiping neighbors know, they were 10% right, at least when it came to the part about Bucky saving someone.

You see, Bucky wasn't just a nobody. He wasn't just a regular driver. To be precise, it all goes back to five years ago.

5 Years Ago

You had just arrived in Russia, alone and shivering from the cold. This wasn't a holiday trip; it was for business.

Unfortunately, your luck had run out, and you were the chosen one sent by your less-than-friendly manager, who knew the bid was a long shot. You were the scapegoat.

It wasn't until you were on the plane, reading the documents, that the truth hit you like a ton of bricks.

Shaking with cold, you reached for your phone and dialed your colleague. "Is there someone to pick me up at the airport?"

"You've arrived? I almost forgot. I suppose someone should be waiting for you. Check to see if there's a sign with your name at the exit gate," came the reply before the call abruptly ended.

"Huh?" You couldn't believe it. The company had tossed you out like yesterday's news, leaving you stranded like a lost child in a foreign country.

"I swear, if I had a lot of money, I'd buy the company's shares and fire every single one of them," you grumbled to yourself, dragging your small suitcase behind you toward the exit gate, uncertain of what awaited you.

As you approached, you spotted a person holding a sign. You gathered your resolve and approached them, saying, "Hi, it's me."

You finally took a good look at the person holding your name sign. He was pretty tall and muscular for a driver, more suited to be a bodyguard.

With a swift motion, he crumpled the paper and tossed it into a nearby trash can. When you finally caught a glimpse of his face, you couldn't help but think, "Damn, he's fine."

He pointed towards your suitcase. "Is that all?" he asked, his voice firm but not unkind.

"Huh? Oh yeah," you replied, momentarily distracted by his good looks.

"Follow me," he said simply, then turned and walked ahead.

You hurried to catch up, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue. This wasn't the welcome you expected, but you followed him nonetheless.

After a quick walk, the two of you stopped in front of a black BMW. The design of the car felt straight out of the '90s.

"Get in," Bucky said, opening the backseat door.

You complied, noticing that your driver seemed to be a man of few words. "Um, what's your name?" you asked as you fastened your seatbelt.

"Bucky. Bucky Barnes," he replied, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he started the car.

Then, glancing at the rearview mirror, he added, "Always watch your back."

"What? What do you mean?" you asked, a hint of unease creeping into your voice.

Bucky shifted gears and increased the speed. "Just in case," he said cryptically, his focus on the road ahead.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of mystery surrounding Bucky. As the car smoothly glided through the streets of Russia, you couldn't help but wonder what kind of business you had genuinely stepped into.

Bucky glanced at you through the rearview mirror as the car continued its swift journey through the city. "You came here without knowing anything?" he asked, his voice serious.

"I knew that other countries also put a bid on this project," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing unease.

"True," Bucky acknowledged. "Do you know what kind of representatives the other countries sent here too?"

Your voice turned into a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the engine. "Not like me?"

Bucky's eyes flicked to the side mirror, noticing a few cars trailing behind them. " And they've arrived too," he confirmed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly.

Feeling a surge of panic, you turned around to look out the rear window. "Oh, shit," you muttered under your breath.

There was a group of cars following behind you both, and their windows opened. Someone appeared with a gun pointed at your car.

Bucky shifted gears again, the car picking up speed. "Don't bite your tongue, Miss Y/N," he said calmly, his focus unwavering on the road ahead.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you realized the gravity of the situation. The cars following them meant trouble; you were right in the middle. Gripping the door handle tightly, you braced for whatever was to come, grateful that Bucky knew what he was doing.

The chase was like something out of a movie, but the fear gripping your heart was all too real. The car Bucky drove was bulletproof, a small comfort in the chaos unfolding around you.

"KYAAA!"

Yet, despite the safety of the car, you couldn't shake off the primal fear that clawed at your chest. This was the first time you had ever found yourself in such a dangerous situation, and the adrenaline surged through your veins.

"Oh god, oh god," you muttered, your voice filled with panic as you clutched onto the door handle, your knuckles turning white.

Bucky, on the other hand, remained surprisingly calm. His hands moved expertly over the steering wheel, navigating through the narrow streets with precision. "Hold on tight," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos outside.

You could hear the sound of gunfire, bullets ricocheting off the car's armored exterior. The world outside seemed to blur as Bucky weaved in and out of traffic, the pursuing cars hot on your tail.

"What do we do? What do we do?" you pleaded, your heart pounding in your chest.

Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Trust me," he said cryptically, before reaching for a button on the dashboard.

With a click, the back of the car transformed. Panels shifted, revealing an array of weapons hidden within. Your eyes widened in disbelief as a gun turret emerged from the rear of the car, whirring to life.

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, both terrified and amazed at the same time.

Bucky didn't hesitate. He maneuvered the car expertly, aligning the gun turret with the pursuing vehicles. With a press of a button, the turret unleashed a barrage of bullets, hitting the cars behind you with precision.

The sound of metal tearing and tires screeching filled the air as the pursuing vehicles swerved and crashed, their drivers no match for the firepower of Bucky's car.

You watched in awe and horror as the scene unfolded behind you, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. "I can't believe this," you whispered, your eyes wide with disbelief.

Bucky remained focused, his eyes scanning the road ahead. "Welcome to the world of high-stakes business, Miss Y/N," he said, his voice calm despite the chaos around you.

As you both sped away from the gunfire, the intensity of the moment left you breathless. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made you wonder how Bucky could remain so calm, and how his car seemed to be designed for situations like this.

"Bucky, are you really just a driver?" you asked, your voice filled with astonishment and curiosity.

Bucky, focused on the road ahead, replied without missing a beat. "Most of the time I work as a getaway driver."

"What?!" you exclaimed, unable to hide your surprise.

Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I have a few skills up my sleeve," he said cryptically, his eyes returning to the road as he expertly navigated the streets.

You panted heavily, trying to catch your breath after the intense chase. "Huff... huff... I have to win this damn bid. I almost lost my life. If I win, I will demand a promotion, and for you too, Bucky."

Bucky chuckled. "Thank you," he replied, his laughter mixing with relief as the moment's tension dissipated

Bucky glanced at you, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "You know, Miss Y/N, I'm impressed," he said, his voice tinged with respect.

You looked at him, surprised by his words. "Impressed? Why?"

"Because even though you were scared out of your mind back there," Bucky explained, gesturing vaguely to the chaos that had just unfolded, "you still have the drive to win this bid. That takes courage."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, touched by his words. "Well, I don't want to go through all of this for nothing," you replied, a hint of determination in your voice.

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. "I understand. And I believe you have what it takes to succeed."

As the car continued on its journey, you felt a newfound sense of confidence swelling within you. Despite the danger and the unexpected twists, you were determined to make this business trip count. With Bucky by your side, you felt like you could take on anything that came your way.

"Thank you, Bucky," you said, gratitude evident in your voice.

He smiled, a reassuring presence beside you. "Anytime, Miss Y/N. We make a good team."

And at that moment, as the city lights blurred past the windows of the car, you knew that this business trip would be far more than just a bid. It would be an adventure, with Bucky as your unexpected ally.

🚗

After you won the bid, you demanded a meeting with the CEO and threatened to sue the company if you weren't promoted.

Asserting your worth, you stood firm, and the CEO eventually relented, granting you the promotion you rightfully deserved.

As you stood in the office, your evil manager and colleague before you, the air was charged with tension. They both wore expressions of surprise and disbelief, clearly caught off guard by your sudden assertiveness.

"Good afternoon," you began, your voice steady and firm. "I requested this meeting to inform you both that your employment with this company is terminated, effective immediately."

The evil manager scoffed, a hint of arrogance in his voice. "You can't do that. You're just a new employee."

You met his gaze, unwavering. "Actually, as of today, I've been promoted to a position where I have the authority to make such decisions."

The lazy colleague chimed in, who answered your call at the airport. Her voice laced with disdain. "This is ridiculous. You're letting power go to your head."

You shook your head, a steely resolve in your eyes. "No, this is about accountability and integrity. Both of you have demonstrated a lack of professionalism and ethics that is unacceptable in this company. And you make me go alone knowing that the trips was a high risk."

The evil manager tried to argue, but you held up a hand to silence him. "There's no need for further discussion. Your actions have consequences, and now you're facing them."

With that, you handed them their termination letters, each neatly printed with the company seal. The evil manager's face turned red with anger, while the evil colleague's eyes widened in shock.

"This is unfair!" the evil manager shouted, his voice filled with outrage.

You remained calm, unfazed by his outburst. "It's the consequences of your own actions," you replied firmly.

Othrr colleague tried to plead for another chance, but you stood your ground. "I'm sorry, but this is non-negotiable," you said, your tone resolute.

As they gathered their things and left the office, the weight of their absence felt like a burden lifted from their shoulders. You watched them go, feeling a sense of relief and empowerment.

🚗

One day, the memories of Russia tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself longing to return, this time for a personal visit to see Bucky. With determination, you booked a flight and arrived at his apartment.

Bucky greeted you warmly, a smile spreading across his face. "Miss Y/N," he said with genuine happiness.

"Bucky," you replied, matching his smile. "I couldn't resist coming back to see you."

You smiled, feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness. "I wanted to thank you," you began, gratitude filling your voice. "For everything. You were there for me in Russia, and I couldn't have done it without you."

Bucky's expression softened, his eyes reflecting genuine warmth. "It was my pleasure. You showed courage and determination. I was just glad to be a part of it."

"I wanted to ask," you continued, gathering your courage, "if you would consider coming with me. With my promotion, I have the opportunity to lead new projects, and I can think of no one better to have by my side."

Bucky's eyes widened in surprise, clearly caught off guard by your offer. After a moment of contemplation, a smile slowly spread across his face. "I would be honored," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I believe we make a good team."

Bucky smiled warmly, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he grabbed his car keys and jacket. "To celebrate, let me pay for tonight's dinner. My treat," he said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.

You couldn't help but feel gratitude and happiness at his offer. "That sounds wonderful." you replied, a smile spreading across your face.

That's how the love story between you and Bucky started.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic #winter soldier #the winter soldier #bucky x female!reader #bucky fandom #sebastian stan fluff #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x y/n #unexpected trip

[hearts4hazbin]

Ok ok ok I've had an Adam prompt in my head for WEEKS but I'm thinking like Adam (who would obviously be in some kind of band in Heaven, I mean cmon) hooking up with a fan, like in a greenroom type setting or like a fuckin public bathroom (if they're desperate)

Love your stuff 🙏 looking forward to whatever Adam fics you end up writing!

♡ just one night? | adam x reader.

A/N : first non-vox smut fic, wow. this request is great 'nonnie, i now need band Adam to fuck me 🤤 I have such a thing for cocky men it hurts.. !MINORS DNI!

Being the first man, everyone loved Adam. Including you. He was so cool, so handsome, so amazing. It didn't help that he was in a band. He would play gigs in hell all the time, scratchy vocals echoing through the viewers eardrums, fingers skillfully playing his guitar. Oh how you longed to know what else those fingers could do.

"You alright babe?" Adam leaned against the back of the stage his performance was just in. He startled you, and you did end up jumping back in surprise, "Surprised you're talking to the man himself?"

"I guess," You replied anxiously. Your crush, who you thought would never utter a word to you, is now standing at your side.

"You wanna talk somewhere else?"

☆☆˚.꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ☆☆

"Ah, A-Adamm, p-please~!" You moaned as three of his big fingers explored your insides. Your legs were spread wide enough for Adam to watch the sight in front of him.

"Please what?" He grinned. You were in the greenroom where he rested between shows and you guys sure indeed talked.

"You- You know well what I me~ean,"  You weren't going to admit you wanted him to fuck you so easily, not when his fingers were already doing it so well. But you wanted more.

Adam wasn't going to give in so easily. "Hmm? I'm not sure what you're talking about. Use your words." He curled his fingers, making you moan his name again.

"Ugh, please," You sighed, "Please fuck me."

"Am I not doing that already with my fingers? What do you want?" You knew Adam was a bitch, but you weren't expecting him to be this mean.

"Your cock. Want your cock inside of me," You admitted. Adam took his fingers out of you and made a whole show of cleaning them up.

He finally took off his boxers and his erect dick was something to marvel. The other people he's fucked have survived a national disaster. "You happy now? I'm sure you wanted the original dick itself, didn't you?"

"Mhm," you mindlessly responded, too busy thinking of that going inside you.

Adam took your chin with his left hand, his right hand going to your hip as he pushed himself inside you, "You're tight."

Your face turned red at the comment, and then before you knew it, he started bucking his hips back and forth, letting out sweet groans of pleasure, tufts of pubic hair

Adam was making you see stars as he continued to fuck you, his left hand now resting on your stomach. More specifically, the bulge from his dick. Your eyes widened as your eyes went to him, then your stomach, and then back to him, who grinned at you in response.

"Are you close?" He asked as he went to play with your tits. You nodded feverishly. Adam didn't even bother to pull out. He just blew his load inside and tugged on your nipples until you also came.

"I have another gig tomorrow, so I gotta go. We can take a picture before I go & I'll give you an autograph, 'kay?"

"Already? Can't you stay just one night?" You frowned as you opened the camera app and gave Adam your phone.

"Yup. Sorry babe, can't stay any longer," Adam made a duck face and a peace sign. He handed you your phone, your messages app opened. A phone number.

"Bye A-" but he was already gone.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel smut #♡ a blessing from the stars! #hazbin hotel adam #adam #adam x reader

[dollfacefantasy]

From the Day You Arrived

pairing: suguru geto x fem!reader

summary: the night in the village was the first time suguru saw you. you'd haunted him ever since. when he meets you again, he's not going to let you slip away. you will be his.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dub-con, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, spanking, manipulation, pet names (pet, puppy, pup), reader put in a collar, yandere-ish behavior (obsession/controlling), breeding kink

word count: 5.4k

a/n: birthday present for @kaitkatme. one of the sweetest people in the whole world, someone i love so so much. she makes me happy every day. i'm so lucky to call her my friend <3

It was that night in the village. With the 112 people. With the fire. That was the night he first saw you.

You’d been caught amongst the carnage of that night. You should have been just another face in the slaughter, another light he’d snuff out. But when he came across you in the midst of everything, he froze. Two sets of eyes gazing into one another, completely still as everything surrounding continued in disarray.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. He didn’t know if it was the terror in your stare, the horror in the downward curve of your lips. You made him freeze though. Long enough for you to dart out the back door and run as fast as your limbs could carry you.

The smallest moment in time. One he thought would be the only minute shared between the two of you.

That was until he saw you all those years later.

You’d changed but so had he. Both of you sported new styles of clothing, different hairdos, your faces had aged. When your eyes locked in the middle of that busy street though, it was like the two of you morphed into yourselves from all those years ago and nothing had changed. He couldn’t explain the connection. All he knew was that he wouldn’t let it slip away this time.

He went over to you, introduced himself, and this time, it was you who froze. Instantly, it was obvious you recognized him. He thought seeing the man who massacred everyone you’d known would’ve sent you running, just like you had on that night. But you didn’t move a muscle. As if your legs were locked in place, you didn’t move an inch upon hearing his voice. You ended up responding, and finally, he learned the name of the girl who’d walked through both his dreams and nightmares for years on end. In that moment, he wondered if he’d meant the same to you. 

He took your hand and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. The gesture caught you off guard. He reveled in the slight widening of your eyes. It was obvious you didn’t think him capable of such tenderness. He knew with little effort, you’d be his.

You were still a non-sorcerer, but that was part of what had him captivated. He couldn’t understand how he managed to become so enamored with someone he considered to be objectively beneath him. It was something that haunted him, something he had to find out the cause of. All he knew was that you weren’t going to get away this time.

He lured you back to his place with promises of an explanation, answering the questions that had plagued you all this time. Only when you got there, it was you doing the majority of the talking. He discovered that in contrast to himself, your life had fallen apart after that night. It spiraled so far out of control, you had no hope left for wrangling it back. He supposed it made sense. Losing your entire family and all of your friends would do that to a person. He listened with a sympathetic ear, fingers sweeping down your jaw soothingly as his eyes grew soft with feigned concern.

“Oh, little one,” he cooed, “How could I ever begin to make it up to you?”

As if he had anything to make up for. If anything, this arrangement he had in mind would be you making it up to him for making him question so much. An apology for bothering him with your mere existence.

You were resistant at first. You’d seen first hand the kind of violence this man was capable of. You turned down his offers, made up excuses about why you should be leaving now. He wouldn’t have it though.

“I don’t think you understand,” he’d told you, rising to his feet, “You’re special. You were meant for more than what’s been given to you, more than what you had in that village and more than what you have now.”

You watched him with widening eyes, uncertain of his point. You knew you should’ve been reacting with more intensity, kicking, screaming, hitting, crying, anything. But it was as if something possessed you to stay. To listen.

“There’s a reason you made it out of that night when no one else did. Something stopped me when I saw you. And something brought us back together. I’m not even sure what it is myself, but that’s why you’re going to stay here,” he said, “I’m not letting you slip away again.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a statement of fact. You still shook your head in protest, but he nodded right back at you.

“Tell me honestly, what do you have to go back to?” he asked, “You feel it too. I know you do. You think you’re supposed to hate me, right? But you don’t.”

“You took everything from me,” you protested weakly.

He chuckled at first but kept his eyes serious and locked on you. “Sure I did. But that was a long time ago and not the point. The point is that you’re sitting here like a good girl and listening because deep down, you also want to know what this thing is that connects us. You don’t want to leave. You could’ve tried running by now. You wouldn’t get far, but you could have tried. You haven’t though because you want this just the same as I do.”

“No I don’t,” you said, your tone still not matching the firm nature of your words.

“That’s just too bad because you’re staying here regardless,” he’d told you with a shrug, “Like I said, you can try to run, but I’ll have you back here in the blink of an eye.”

You contemplated trying to get away at first, but as your eyes scanned the room, many factors became clear to you that would be detrimental to your escape. First, you didn't know this place well. Second, you clearly weren’t alone. You could hear other people just outside the room, and you were sure they’d follow Suguru’s word over yours without even a second thought. Also, you could still vividly remember how he treated your people from the village, and you didn’t want to invite a recreation.

Reluctantly, you accept staying with him, and as a reward, he didn’t make you wear restraints.

***

Your new life actually wasn't horrible. The other people who hung around Suguru’s place weren’t all that bad and could be nice to you sometimes. He kept a close eye on you to make sure you didn’t sneak off or get too close to anyone else, but from what he could tell you didn’t. You spent most of your time around him although he did allow you your own room to sleep in.

Unexpected to you, however, was that you actually didn’t mind spending time with him too much. It wasn’t like he was your best friend, but you didn’t despair being around him. You were pretty quiet for the most part, but he worked to figure you out anyways. 

In a way, you compartmentalized him into two. After nearly a year with him, there were two Sugurus in your mind. There was the version of him from years ago who’d destroyed everything you’d ever known, and there was the current version that petted your head and spoke to you as if you were the most exquisite flower just beginning to bloom.

You knew you should hate him. The man ruined your life, and you followed him around and slept under his roof. This was disgraceful, wasn’t it? The lack of fight you put up was embarrassing.

Thoughts like those bothered you daily. The second you’d find yourself smiling at him or engaging him in a conversation on your own freewill, shame took you over. Those feelings led to your first and only attempt at escape.

You tried it when you thought he was busy. Slipping out through the backdoor, you ran away just like you had when you first met. You didn’t know where you were going, but this was what you were supposed to do. This is what anyone would expect of someone in your situation.

But he held true to his promise. You were back within the hour.

You weren’t sure how he knew, if he sensed it, if someone saw you and told him, if you’d tripped some sort of alarm. He followed you though and retrieved you with no effort.

You returned to the place you’d been staying for the last several months. You didn’t even know what to call it. His compound? Sometimes it felt more like his palace. Whatever it was, you were back, and he was pissed. Angrier than you’d ever seen him. That night in the village, he didn’t look angry. He went about his slaughter as if it was just something he had to do. But right now, sitting in the bedroom he’d given you, he looked at you with fire in his eyes.

“What do you think you were doing?” he asks, his voice ice cold.

You look up at him like a puppy who’d been caught breaking a rule. “I wanted to leave. You never told me I could never leave…” you argue.

“Then why did you sneak out the back?” he asks. Upon receiving no response from you, he continues, “Because you knew you weren’t supposed to.”

“I’m not supposed to be here!” you say with the most force he’d heard from you, “We’re not connected or whatever. You took away my whole life. I can’t just forget that.”

He glares at you. “Come here,” he says simply. 

The words chill you to your bones. You walk over to him and stand between his thighs. He grabs your chin and makes you look at him. “I never asked you to forget what happened, did I? No. I didn’t. I’ve never said I’m sorry because I’m not. What I did brought you to me.”

He pulls you face down over his lap and continues with his speech. “You are supposed to be here. I am supposed to have you whether you understand that or not. Your place is here. You belong to me,” he says.

With that, he brings his palm down hard against your ass. You yelp with surprise. It was almost comical, your punishment being a simple spanking from a man capable of mass murder.

“Hush. I don’t want to hear it. I’m growing tired of your resistant act because that’s all it is. An act,” he says, pushing up your skirt and raining down lashes on your uncovered cheeks.

“It’s not. I hate you for what you did,” you whimper.

“No. You hate what I did, but you don’t hate me,” he says.

You don’t respond to that one. It was probably the truth, but you wouldn’t admit that so easily. You continue whining as he spanks you, painting your ass with bruises.

“I mean, how could you? I’m the only one who’s ever shown you real attention, real care,” he says, “You’ve never been anyone’s favorite, anyone’s choice. But you’re mine. You think just anyone would go to such lengths to keep you?”

The words sting worse than the slaps. Tears begin to brim your eyes as barbs form in your throat. “That’s not true,” you say, “Everyone who cared about me is dead because of you.”

“It is the truth. Sure, those people may have cared about you but not like I do. You’re part of my very being, a piece of my existence, and I treat you as such. Your life is so much better here than it ever was, yet you repay me by trying to leave?” he lectures.

You don’t respond again. It was hard to think of an argument as your emotions swell within you and your ass burns. More small whimpers escape you, and you squirm on his lap. He smacks you harder in response and gets a tight grip on your hips.

“And nothing to say for yourself?” he taunts, “I’ve been treating you like the little angel I believed you to be, but now I see I need to handle you as you actually are. An ungrateful brat.”

As a mark of punctuation, he lands the hardest smack yet. You cry out, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle weakly.

“No you’re not. You’re sorry you were caught. You’re sorry you’re in trouble. But you aren’t sorry for what you did,” he chides. He spanks you a few more times before stopping.

He wipes the tears from your cheeks and lifts you off his lap, putting you down on your bed. He stands from the bed and heads towards the door.

“Compose yourself before dinner. I don’t want to hear anymore of your whining for the rest of the day,” he says, “And get used to this room. You’re going to be seeing a lot more of it for the next few weeks.”

Then he left.

You didn’t see him until dinner like he said, and even then he was cold and distant. He wasn’t the version of himself that you enjoyed being around. The two of you eat in silence before he dismisses you to your bedroom without so much as saying goodnight. And things continued on like that for weeks.

He knew how to play you like the delicate instrument you were. He knew he wouldn’t need to spank you again, wouldn’t have to chain you up or starve you. All he’d have to do in order to get you on his side was take away his affection. He wouldn’t be nice to you anymore. That simple. 

He wouldn’t stroke your cheek or call you sweet names, wouldn’t joke with you at dinner or come to your room to say good night specially to you. You’d be treated like everyone else, and he knew you wouldn’t stand for it.

Being in your room all day for weeks was bad enough, but that part was worse. It sounds simple, like something that should be easy to resist. It drove you crazy though. You hadn’t realized how much his treatment had meant to you. You’d craved being treasured for so long, and he’d given you a taste of it.

You crack one night at the end of your punishment. For the first time in weeks, you could roam the grounds freely. But with him practically ignoring you, it didn’t feel like a reprieve. At the end of the day, you go to his room and knock on the door. Already teary eyed, you walk inside when he permits you. Standing in front of him, you look up. Your lip quivers as the words “I’m sorry” spill out.

He can’t suppress his knowing smile.

“For what?” he asks, playing clueless.

“For trying to run away. And for arguing. And for whatever else you're mad at me for,” you say.

“That doesn’t sound very sincere,” he teases, “Sounds like you’re throwing darts at a board, just trying to hit the right spot.”

“No, I’m serious. I am sorry. I just really don’t want you to be mad. Please. I don’t want you to hate me anymore. I want us to be connected again,” you say.

And that was all he needed to hear.

“Well come here then,” he says and pats his lap.

You do so without any hesitation, curling up to him as if you’d done it hundreds of times before.

“My sweet puppy wants to be good again, hm?” he asks softly as he rubs your back.

“Yes,” you whimper. You wrap your arms around him as if trying to meld the two of you together.

He already knew what your answer would be. His precious little pet. Over the course of your time with him, that’s what he’d decided. You weren’t just something elusive that captivated him for a moment. You were the pinnacle of your kind, the closest to divine a non-sorcerer would ever come to be. You were born to be his. Put on this earth as a sweet thing for him to dote on while he continued with his mission.

“Good girl,” he says. He gently kisses the top of your head. “How about tonight you sleep in my bed? Would that make you feel better?”

Surprising even yourself, you nod. The desire to be back in his good graces, basking in his affection again, dominated your thought process. He scoots back on the mattress and pulls you with him, tucking you against his side under the plush blankets.

“You just need some attention. Little puppies like you can’t handle being ignored for too long,” he murmurs.

You nod in agreement, getting comfortable. That was the fastest you’d fallen asleep in years.

For the next month, you truly fell into the role of his pet. You followed him everywhere, holding his hand and watching him with adoring eyes. But the moment he made it official came one night after dinner. You sat across the table from him as usual, eating quietly and occasionally nodding along to whatever he happened to be going on about. That night took a different turn though. When the two of you were done and the table was clear, he looked at you for a moment and then patted his lap.

“Sit with me, my pet,” he said.

My pet. A title you detested at first. In the beginning, it made you feel awful. Though now, it felt sweet in its own way. The term was one no one else got to wear.

You rose to your feet and rounded the table, approaching him to sit on one of his thighs. You look into his eyes curiously.

“What is it, Suguru?” you ask, your voice soft and sweet as it had come to be in his presence.

“How was dinner, sweetheart?” he asks. One hand rubs up and down your back while his other fidgets with the ends of your hair.

“It was good,” you answer.

“That’s good,” he says, watching your every expression, “Tell me, precious, are you happy here?”

You nod. “I’m happy with you,” he says.

“Well, that’s good because I need to talk to you about something,” he says. He reaches for a pouch he had resting on the table. He undoes the tie at the top as he continues to speak, “You know, as of today, you’ve been here for one year. A full year.”

“Really?” you ask, watching his fingers on the strings.

“Yes, and I wanted to offer you something to commemorate such a special date,” he says.

The pouch finally opens and out of it comes a collar made of black leather with the word Suguru’s spelled across the front in silver letters. He allows you to take it from his hands and inspect it, running your fingers over the materials.

“Thank you, Suguru,” you say. The words come out slowly as you adjust to the idea of having this strapped around your neck.

He grins as you don’t even bother to question it. “You’re welcome. You want to try it on?” he asks.

“Sure,” you say timidly and hand the strip of leather back to him.

“Good girl,” he purrs. His fingers bring the collar to your neck and wrap it around. He fastens it into place, not too tight to restrict you but not loose enough that you would forget its presence.

Turning your head to look at him, he takes in your appearance. His eyes scan your face before looking at your delicate neck with his name displayed across the front.

“You’re beautiful, little love. I don’t think you’ve ever looked better,” he praises and kisses your cheek, “My perfect puppy.”

A smile spreads across your lips, and helplessly, you sink into his affection. He continues to pet your head and run his fingers along your face with the most gentle touches.

“You look just as a proper pet should, collared and devoted completely to your owner,” he coos before kissing your nose.

“I like the collar. It feels good,” you say softly.

“That’s how you should feel. A collar is the most natural thing in the world for a precious pet like you. Someone meant to be pampered and doted on,” he murmurs and moves his kisses to your cheekbones and down your jaw.

Eventually, he reaches your lips. He looks at you before connecting the two of you in your first real kiss. You reciprocate the affection and lean into his touch. He goes in for a few more, his tongue flicking at your lips and sliding in to transition into full blown make out.

Both of your breathing deepens and becomes heavier puffs against each other’s face. After a little more, he pulls back and studies your face, your cute lips wet with his saliva.

“You like that, pup? Was that a good treat?” he teases before leaning down to the part of your neck not covered  by the collar.

A breathy moan escapes you as you nod to his questions. He licks your skin before reattaching his lips and nipping at your throat. He places more kisses in the area while his hands massage your waist and move up to your breasts.

“I need to talk to you about something else, little love. Something else that good puppies do,” he says against your skin.

“Ok…” you agree, head tilted back to give him more room.

“I think you & I…” he starts before changing his wording, the only time you’d ever heard him stumble, “I think I need to breed you.”

Your eyes widen and dart over to what you can see of his face. “What?”

“I want to breed you,” he repeats, “My perfect little puppy, full with our perfect baby.”

The words rattle around in your head, but you’re still uncertain. “But Suguru… I don’t know,” you say.

With one more kiss to your throat, he picks you up and seats you on the table in front of him. “What’s causing your uncertainty?” he asks, his hands running up and down your thighs.

“Because… that’s a big deal, and I don’t even know if I want a baby. And we’re not even a real couple,” you reason, your skepticism showing in your voice.

He smirks at your words and nods dismissively. “Little one, we’re beyond being a “real couple.” We’re connected deeper than that, and you know this,” he tells you, “And because of that, imagine how perfect our child would be. A product of otherworldly connection. The baby would make us the family you’ve been missing for so long.”

Thinking his words over, you remain silent. A family? A physical manifestation of the connection between the two of you. It sounded good.

Of course, Suguru knew it would. He rarely enjoyed forcing you to do things. He took pleasure from convincing you of them, manipulating you into thinking as he did. Before you could come to any conclusion that resulted in “no,” he interjects.

“What if we practice? Just try it out,” he offers.

“Practice?” you repeat hesitantly.

“I’ll show you how good being bred feels. How you were just made for it,” he says and pulls your hips closer to the edge of the table. “Lay back for me.”

As per usual, you follow instructions. You lay back against the wood and look up at the bright lights on the ceiling. Suguru’s focus is all on you. He pushes your skirt out of the way and drags his thumb over your panties.

“I’ll warm you up first, little love. Just relax for me,” he says.

You squirm from the budding pleasure in the pit of your stomach. His touch was light enough to not give anything real, but it was still there. He leans in next, dragging his nose in place of his thumb. A kiss lands on your clit through the cloth before removing it entirely. The garment slides down your legs and hits the floor. He spreads you open for his viewing.

“Every part of you is beautiful,” he murmurs.

You squirm a little more as he just admires you. He just stares, taking in every precious detail of you. After what feels like forever, he leans in and licks an exploratory stripe up the length of your cunt. You breathe in a shuddery breath as he laps at your clit and swirls his tongue over your folds.

It’s just a taste though. He uses all his discipline to pull back and slide his fingers inside of you.

“Suguru…” you whine, back arching off the table.

“Such a needy little puppy,” he croons, “You’ve been aching for this and you didn’t even know it. That’s why you have me to show you.”

He pushes them deeper, curling them against your pleasure spots and making you whimper again. A smirk is plastered on his face now as he begins to pump them.

“Good baby,” he coos, “And this is just the warm up.”

Your slick gathers on Suguru’s fingers as he continues his efforts. His free hand holds your hip in place to ensure your squirming doesn’t interrupt him.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart. So eager for me,” he whispers with a kiss to your inner thigh.

Your walls clamp around his digits and draw him further into your heat. He picks up the pace a bit, figuring out what works on you as he goes on.

“It feels so good,” you whimper, clutching the edges of the table.

“I know it does, pup. Better than anything you’ve had before, yeah?” he says.

You nod and moan again as he adds another finger. The stretch wasn’t painful at this point. It just felt like pure satisfaction.

“You’re taking it so well. I can already tell you’re gonna be perfect for my cock,” he says.

He thumbs your clit while working his three fingers back and forth. After a while, the intimate touches become enough to get you to peak. You’re gasping, tensed up on the table before him.

“S-Suguru… can I?” you ask. You knew better than to just do whatever you wanted. He was being kind to you, but this was still his show.

“Can you what, puppy? I have got you dumb enough that you can’t use your words,” he teases.

“Can I- mm- Can I cum?” you stutter out.

“Alright, darling. I think you deserve it this time. Just know it won’t always be so easy,” he says, continuing his motions at the same pace.

You burst before his eyes, seizing up, hands so tight on the table you feel like you could snap it. You cry out loudly, not caring if anyone else were to walk by.

“Thank you, Suguru,” you babble before you’re even in the clear yet.

“What a good girl. You didn’t even need to be told,” he says.

He lets you come down as he stands up and disrobes. You’re still in the fog of euphoria, so you don’t notice how he stands between your legs until you feel his flushed tip nudging at your folds.

Your eyes cast downwards and lock onto his form. He was more bare than you’d ever seen, presented to you in all his glory. He continues to tease your hole, prodding at it with his tip before sliding it up to your clit.

“Suguru…” you whine, “Please.”

He laughs at the pout you attempt before bringing his cock down again and pushing in just the tip. You bite your lip, muffling your noises now that you had a clearer head. That wasn’t what he wanted though. He slips himself all the way inside, getting a needy moan from you once he’s bottomed out.

“Good girl. Don’t try to hide your enjoyment from me,” he says.

“But-” you start before cutting yourself off with a whine. You couldn’t help it when you felt the sensation of him thrusting. “But what if someone comes in?”

“Let them,” he says, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips, “Let them see how good you are for me, the perfect pet. They won’t do a thing. Everyone here knows better than to question me. And that includes you. So no more questions.”

Heat still creeps up your neck at the thought of someone seeing you in such a vulnerable position, but while your mind swirls with the feeling of him inside you, it’s not enough for you to protest. Your shoulder blades pin against the table that creaks beneath you from his movements. He works to find a rhythm, pleased by your obedience.

His grip on your hips is just as tight as when his fingers were in you, and true to his word, you took his cock perfectly. You squeezed around him just right, so tight and warm. He’d never felt anything so heavenly.

He starts moving faster, pistoning himself deeper, and ripping more blissful noises from you. Your eyes were starting to droop with lust and get glossy with ecstasy. One of his hands reaches up to grab your chin and direct your vision to his.

“You like this, puppy? Feels as good as before?” he grunts.

“Yeah. Better,” you gasp. Your responses are curt as your mind would rather get lost in his touch than formulate words.

“Good. You’re gonna wanna do this more, yeah? Cause we can do it as often as we need. When you wake up, during the day when you get bored, when you need me to put you to sleep at night,” he lists out, “All the time until it takes, and you’re growing my baby.”

You whine and nod eagerly. When you we’re getting fucked dumb, that actually didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

He grins at your agreement. He knew he’d still have to convince you further when you weren’t high on pleasure, but this was definitive progress.

“I knew you’d come around, little love. You know it’s meant to be,” he says before leaning over you, pressing his forehead to yours and burying himself as deep as physically possible. “And I know you’re just gonna be the prettiest little mama.”

Another moan spills out of you against Suguru’s lips as he kisses you. His hips keep rutting into yours, locked in on making his words reality. You both pant when you separate. The heat forming between the two of you was sweltering enough to make you sweat.

“Want it, Suguru. I want it now,” you whimper.

That only spurs him closer towards the finish line as you accept it even more than he had anticipated.

“Do you, pup? Or do you just wanna cum?” he teases. His own voice was straining a bit as he got closer.

“Want both,” you defend between moans.

“Good. Cause you’re gonna get both. Cum for me puppy, want you to cum all over my cock,” he mutters and thrusts harder.

You gasp at the sharp movements and dig your nails into his back. Cut off words fall from your lips, and your legs tremble violently. It’s not long before you cum again, jerking and bucking your hips, whining for him and crying out whatever came into your mind.

“That’s my puppy. My perfect girl. Made for me and me alone,” he breathes, shutting his eyes as the feeling of you clamped around him takes over.

His own breathing becomes ragged as he feels the heat inside him reaching a boiling point. He groans, creating the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard as he fucks his cum into you. His hips keep thrusting and don’t break their rhythm at all. He was going to do this right. His mind was fueled by pure determination.

When you both have come down, he’s still on top of you, not wanting to lose contact with your body. He reluctantly pulls out and looks down at you in you’re fucked out state. His sweetest pet. Scooping you up, he carries you to the bedroom to clean you off and get the two of you to bed. He sleeps with you tucked to his chest, his arms wrapped around you like a vise. He dreams of you on his lap, his hand on your swollen belly, and your eyes looking up at him with unending adoration.

#suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #suguru geto imagines #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto suguru smut #geto x reader #geto smut

[vivwritesfics]

Hi, Viv!

What about a reason why Bob was paired up with Nat in TGM? Perhaps, he and his original pilot fell for each other? And she can’t go due to Navy regulations.

OMG MY FIRST BOB REQUEST I'M SO HAPPY -- bc of my incredibly limited knowledge of Navy regulations I ever so slightly changed it (well, that and I want his babies)

You're not supposed to fuck your back seater. They were in Lemoore together. That was where they met. That was where they fell in love.

As much as she tried to resist, she couldn't stop herself from falling in love with him. Well, can you blame her? His was just so cute. Plus, he was crazy good at his job (why else do you think he got invited back to Top Gun?)

They spent an incredible amount of time together already. He didn't open up to her right away, but, once she got him talking, he never wanted to stop (and she never wanted him to stop).

For their first date, she was sick. Her head killed and the fever she had kept her in bed. So much for their plans for dinner.

Bob came to her house anyway. He made her dinner and make sure she had the right medicine. She didn't want to kiss him, but she couldn’t stop herself from cuddling up to his chest as they watched a movie.

Their second date was much more of a success. They actually managed to get outside of her house. She got to kiss him, actually kiss him.

By the third date, Bob had her in his bed, legs spread as he plowed into her. Neither of them knew that was the way the date was going. But, the way she touched him, she clearly wanted him. And he was happy to give it to her.

That was two years ago. Three months ago, Bob had gotten down onto one knee. They had star gazing dates, out in the garden, laying in the grass until they got too cold.

She'd let out an involuntary noise of complaint when he pulled his fingers out of hers. But then he pulled out the ring and slipped it onto her finger.

And then they were invited to Top Gun for the second time. The best pilot and back seater around.

She threw up the day after they had been told, when they were getting ready to leave. She assured Bob that she was fine, that she was just nervous.

But then she threw up again.

The third time, Bob got her a pregnancy test. A whole box full. Each one came back positive.

She wasn't happy about not going to Top Gun, about Bob flying with somebody else, but she had to get over it. Her fiance was doing important work and she couldn't hold him back.

She'd met Nat, though. Phoenix was lovely. The rest of the squad was lovely. Her Bobby was in good hands.

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x you #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd fluff #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun bob #lewis pullman

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hello! Small question, how would one go on to portray panicked rambles? I have a character who is afraid of the dark who has to escape with his friend through a dark cave, but as I was trying to write his panicked pleadings, they came across as flat and rational due to how the dialoge is written. I tried to make it feel rushed by conjoing some of the words together, but it looked a bit odd to me. Do you have any tips?

Writing a Panicked Ramble

Some things to keep in mind:

1 - Make sure there's context for the panic. Whether you lay the foundation for that panic ahead of time, or have to build to it in the moment, it's important that the reader has context for why this character is panicked. Otherwise, something like, "This is fine, I'm okay, there's nothing lurking in the shadows..." just falls flat. Why is this person panicking about being in the dark cave? Are they afraid of what may be in the cave? Are they afraid due to a past bad experience in a cave--or maybe just in darkness? Do they have some underlying fears that are being triggered? Again, you can lay these out ahead of time or use dialogue and thought to explore them in the moment.

2 - Use thought, emotion, and physical cues to add dimension. Dialogue on its own, even with context, doesn't go as far as dialogue that is bolstered by the character's thoughts, feelings, and physical sensations and body language. "This is fine, I'm okay, there's nothing lurking in the shadows..." he chanted to himself as images of hungry cave bears and rabid bats played through his mind. Every shifting shadow or far off noise sent cold fear slithering down his spine. His teeth chattered when he finally managed, "Are we almost out?" See how much more expressive that was?

3 - Make sure the environment/situation fits the reaction. Sometimes a character's reaction falls flat because we don't do a good enough job illustrating the things they're supposed to be reacting to. For example, if you haven't done a good job describing this dark cave and the things that are triggering the character's fears, their panic isn't going to feel warranted. You can do the work of describing the environment or situation as they get into it, or if necessary, as it's being experienced. And, if the character's reaction is supposed to feel unwarranted... for example, maybe they're panicking as though they're in a dark, scary cave, but they're not, then you can use other characters, dialogue, and description to offset what the character thinks they're experiencing versus what they're actually experiencing.

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

#wqaadvice

[charles-leclerizz]

ꕤ — DESERT OASIS

recording : date_number #1

THE FIRST DATE ON THE RECORD - NOT COUNTING THE THREE IN THE VAULT

word count : 788 words

reading time : 3 minutes 19 seconds

Masterlist · 🪷 Aisha · 🪷 Porsche F1 Team · 🪷

their playlist · 🪷 the relationships · 🪷 their relationship · 🪷 their pinterest board

" You think they saw us ? " aisha whispered, grasping her clutch to her waist as lando winded a hand around her waist and guided her up the steps of the ritz-carlton.

He snorted against her and placed a kiss on her exposed neck whilst plucking the keys of her Porsche from her hand to drop them into the obedient valet who stood patiently for them.

" I would be worried if they didn't "

His words seemed to work as a prayer, impromptu flashes and unintelligible shouts surrounded the couple who merely squeezed closer together whilst aisha glanced apologetically at the worker who was navigating the crowd with her car.

" You summoned them, " she hissed into his ear, smiling at the odd, matte black barrells that were aimed at her.

Lando chuckled, raising a hand up to take her chin into his grasp and pressed his lips against her cheek, his mouth raising into a cheeky smirk, " yea well, they're rabid dogs. "

She hummed in answer, laying her forehead against his shoulder tiredly, " can we go in now ? " aisha whined, her vision blurring at the startling beams of light increased tenfold.

Lando nodded, glancing down at her, " lets go. " he tutted his head in acknowledgement at the paparazzi before taking her hand and guiding them through the threshold of the resort.

" Date number 3 and they've just begun to post about us " aisha giggled down at her phone and twisted her wrist to show the man who sat in front of her the app.

" Is that what these are ? " lando grins back, " I just thought I was getting to look at a pretty woman for a large fee. " he shrugs as he leans back and takes in the late evening city scape.

The sprawling metropolis sat alight beyond them from the perch of the dinner table, the glistening lights from the various buildings illuminated the private meal from the rooftop restaurant they shared.

" A large fee ? honey, it's payment for being able to look at a pretty woman "

He laughed at that and reached over the table to take her hand in his whilst running his thumb over the gentle idents of her knuckles, " hmmm " he kissed each finger purposefully, " I guess you're right. "

" You've changed norris. " aisha cocked her head affectionately as she slipped her fingers out of his hold and ran them through his curls.

" I would hope so. last time we were together, we were just 15 years old. "

" You know what I mean." she sighs, " drivers are meant to be man whores, sleeping around and arrogant while they do it. you're nothing like what I heard. "

" And here I thought you were focusing on your career. "

" I am- but it's hard to ignore the journalists. "

Lando leaned back in his chair before jutting his foot out to nudge her heeled one, " well then lucky me, " he leaned his head onto his palm whilst the other came to wrap around his empty wrist, " because I'm perfectly happy with you. "

" You're too much of a flirt for your own good, " she arched a brow at him from over the rim of her wine glass, the sweet and perky alcohol slipped down her throat slowly as his eyes watched the nape of her neck like a python and its prey.

" You fell for it. " he argued, hazel eyes glinting.

" Fell for it ? jury's still out on that one. " she slid out of her chair, pushing away from their empty plates as she sauntered out towards the lip of the roof, pristine glass protected her from the far drop as a cool breeze swept by.

The gold silk of her dress rippled, and the swooping cut of her back tickled the dimples of her hips whilst the thin chain skimmed her spine. Leaning forward, aisha braced her elbows on the glass before she glanced behind her and bit her lip at lando who was approaching her from his place.

His shadow overtook her space as he leaned down to her ear and whispered, " never got the opportunity to appreciate your outfit tonight, " his fingers trailed down to the seam of where the fabric embraced the arch of her back, " it's perfect. " he purred.

" I never fuck up an ensemble norris, you better learn that quick. " she twisted in his hold and tucked her nose into his neck, " it's best for you. "

" yes ma'am " he mumbled against her.

MUTUALS GET INSTANT TAGS [@vroomvroomcircuit, @disneyprincemuke, @verstappen-cult, @starkwlkr, @sailing-with-100-ships, @foreveralbon, @lorarri], OTHERS [@weekendlusting, @woozarts, @mellowarcadefun, @paintedbypoetry, @33-81, @kazuha-pista-badam, @inejghafawifesblog,d3kstar, @itsjustkhaos, @tremendousstarlighttragedy, @xoscar03,@nichmeddar, @sisinever], IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, PLEASE SEND IN AN ASK !

[NOTE ! i'm not too good at staying on top of tagging, so if you notice that I haven't tagged you, please let me know since i can add you to my list, which is ever growing]

directors note's : oh oh oh, here we are people, welcome to the first of 5 cute-sy dates from the paddocks it couple ! i just thought these would be nice to fill the silence between episodes [ which btw, i have not started writing ep 2. life really fucking sucks ] please let me know if you love this couple as much as i do. or if you havve some theories about their future. it's yap-central in my inbox so come one, come all

#lando norris x oc #lando norris smau #formula one smau #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 drabble #f1 fanfic #f1 x oc #formula one fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 x female reader #formula one social media au #formula one x oc #formula one blurbs #formula one fluff #formula one fic #lando norris #ln4 x oc #ln4 imagine #f1 #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #Lando Norris #Lando Norris imagine #Lando Norris x reader #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for tabetharasa behind the cut; alpha Jazz, a dark alley, and a very pretty omega. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )

Jazz has no idea why Red Hood thinks he smells anything but delicious, but there’s a very reckless and dubiously-ethical part of her that would be willing to prove it to him. Not that she would, obviously, because that would be, again, incredibly unethical and highly inappropriate and also a total dick move. 

She just could, that’s all. Just if it came up or whatever. 

“Well, it’s not,” she says, mildly put out by whatever’s going on here, and Red Hood growls. His scent blockers continue to be useless. Just–absolutely useless, yes. 

Ancients, he smells so good. What is she even supposed to do about how good this omega smells? 

Maybe offer to walk him home, or at least offer him her jacket so he has enough alpha scent on him that no one bothers him on his way back to his den. Although he’s a crime lord–or a vigilante? one or the other, whatever–who’s built like a truck, so that probably isn’t really a concern, she supposes. 

Then again, some people seriously do have no sense of decorum. 

Or survival instincts. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Red Hood snaps. Jazz frowns. That seems like a disproportionate amount of anger in his tone. Maybe he's sensitive about his pheromones. Well, if people have been telling him he smells like death . . . 

Though “death” doesn't necessarily smell bad, in Jazz's opinion. 

Admittedly, that's a liminal's opinion and besides the point anyway. But still. 

“Alright,” she says. “But can you get to your den safely? Or . . . somewhere you can den down, anyway, I don't know. I assume you have a headquarters or a safehouse or two, something like that. Or at least can afford a heat hotel or know a decent clinic.” 

Red Hood hisses at her. It crackles through his modulator, but the sound of it still makes her jeans a little . . . uncomfortable, she'll just say. Sue her, she likes omegas with a bite to them. Johnny 13 definitely didn't win her over by being the sweet and polite type; he won her over by being a blunt asshole in a leather jacket who'd convinced her that he was a sincere and straight-up person. 

She wonders how “sincere” the average Gotham crime boss really is, but it’s a little difficult to concentrate on that question with the scent of old books and burning cedar filling up her nose. And also that note of lilac. That note of lilac is a problem. 

A serious problem. 

“I realize heat drop is probably imminent and you must be uncomfortable, but it’s a valid concern on my part, given your condition,” she says, which normally she’d make sound politely disapproving but really can’t make sound any kind of disapproving right now. Again: the lilac. “So can you?” 

“Fuck makes you think I'd let you anywhere near my den?” Red Hood snarls. Jazz blinks; tilts her head. 

“Nothing,” she says. “What makes you think I was asking to go anywhere near it?” 

Red Hood–stalls, briefly. Jazz tries to be polite about how incredibly obvious a tell that statement was. 

Flattering, but incredibly obvious. 

“I mean, I'd be happy to escort you if you’d like,” she says. “Or lend you my scent, if you need it. But I'm not trying to presume anything.” 

“Fuck off,” Red Hood snarls. “Nobody escorts an omega like me.” 

“Do you think maybe you have some self-esteem issues?” Jazz asks. Heat is almost definitely making him a bit more volatile and emotional than normal, considering the kinds of things he’s been saying to her, but it still seems like a valid question. Being on their cycle doesn’t make people different people; just makes it a bit harder for them to censor and control themselves. 

Or a lot harder, sometimes. 

Judging by how strong Red Hood’s pheromones smell right now . . . 

Well, he might be having a harder time than he’s used to having, so far as “controlling himself” goes. 

Jazz certainly is, all inappropriate knotheaded puns aside. 

Do Poison Ivy’s pollens make cycles hit harder, actually? Or does the suddenness of the effect disorient or throw people off, maybe? 

Well, that’s a worrying thought, since Red Hood seems to be out here alone. 

“‘Self-esteem issues’?” Red Hood repeats incredulously, his pheromones briefly sparking with bewilderment. Jazz decides not to press it, since he might be feeling a little vulnerable right now. 

“Yes,” she says. “Is there someone you can call, if you don’t want an escort or to borrow my scent? I could wait with you until they show. No offense, just Park Row’s not a very nice neighborhood.” 

Red Hood laughs. 

“No fucking shit!” he says, spreading his arms. “It’s Crime Alley!” 

“I know, sorry, I just keep accidentally calling it ‘Park Row’ in my head. Still new in town,” Jazz apologizes. She assumes a crime lord would prefer his territory be correctly referred to, anyway. Seems like a thing. She knows standard humans don’t actually have haunts–even most liminal ones don’t, including her–but sometimes she does . . . well, not forget, exactly, but just . . . expect them to anyway, she supposes? 

She spent way too long in Amity, yes. 

Even without Crime Alley being Red Hood’s actual haunt, though, it’s still disrespectful to call it the wrong name. It’s still his territory either way, and she imagines someone on their cycle especially wouldn’t appreciate the mistake. 

“What is your damage?” Red Hood snarls, his voice modulator crackling threateningly as he visibly bristles, and Jazz catches notes of that electric and unexpected edge in his pheromones again. Still vaguely familiar, but still not quite what it seems like it should be. Just . . . 

Really, if she didn’t know better . . . well, she’d think he was liminal. But that seems like a very unlikely coincidence for her first week in Gotham, so . . . 

Then again, her life is her life. 

It’s not really the time to be asking Red Hood about his levels of ecto exposure, though, and she’s pretty sure they’ve both got more important priorities right now. 

“We don’t really have time to unpack all that, to be honest. You really do need to get home,” she says. “Or at least call someone to pick you up. If you go into heat drop alone in Crime Alley, I can’t imagine it’s going to end well.” 

Red Hood hisses. That might’ve sounded like a threat, Jazz realizes belatedly. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, apologetic again. “But it’s not safe, is it?” 

“If anyone I don’t want near my ass tries to touch me, I’ll put a bullet up theirs,” Red Hood growls, low and crackling. 

“That seems like a lot of trouble when you’re on your cycle, though,” Jazz says. He’d have a body to deal with, and maybe someone would call the cops–well, she supposes it is Crime Alley, so maybe not . . .? But it’d be self-defense anyway, and if he is a crime lord, maybe he has people for that. 

Hm. 

She really needs to get familiar with this area as soon as possible, yeah. And just Gotham in general, really. Every city has its own idiosyncrasies, but Gotham is its idiosyncrasies. 

Well, so is Amity Park, of course. 

“I think you belong in Arkham, lady,” Red Hood says. Jazz feels like a Gothamite should be more understanding of someone taking supervillain attack side effects and hostile heated-up crime lords in stride, but apparently not. 

“Technically, you’re not wrong,” she says with a wry smile. She’d offer him a handshake, but that’s not really appropriate for an alpha to offer to an omega in heat. Especially not an unmated alpha, which Jazz very definitely is. “I start Monday. Jazz Fenton, psychiatric intern. At your service.”

Red Hood manages to very clearly stare at her without actually taking off the helmet. It's actually an impressive amount of expressiveness to get across, under the circumstances. 

Or there could be a touch of liminal empathy happening, admittedly. That's possible too. Especially with another liminal involved. 

Jazz briefly considers what knotting a liminal omega might actually be like if an empathy loop got established somewhere in the process, which is a lie, because what she’s actually imagining is picking up this liminal omega and showing him exactly how delicious she thinks he smells. 

Definitely inappropriate. 

“They will literally eat you alive,” Red Hood says. 

“I mean, there’s a risk of it,” Jazz allows, because nothing is a perfect guarantee. It’s just not a very large risk. Comparatively, she means. 

“You applied to Arkham on purpose, lady?” Red Hood says disbelievingly. 

“Oh, no,” Jazz says, shaking her head. “They made me an offer. Somebody read my thesis and liked it, apparently.” 

Well . . . “thought we should interview you for either a position or to have your file established for whenever the convictions start rolling in”, whichever. The interviewing psychiatrists had a range of reactions during her interview, she supposes is the best way to put it. 

Jazz really doesn’t think it’s fair to classify her parents as actual supervillains, but an increasingly long list of professionals has, admittedly, not agreed with that assessment. 

She can’t imagine what they would’ve thought if she’d told them about Danny, considering. 

Well, it’s not her problem if someone else is going to be close-minded about things like that. 

“I’m sorry, I’m really not trying to be pushy here, but are you sure you don’t want to call anyone? Or want my scent. Or . . . literally anything,” she says, gesturing a little awkwardly with her shopping bags. “I do get told my pheromones are pretty discouraging to unwanted attention, if that helps?” 

“Sure they are,” Red Hood snorts. Jazz tries not to look disapproving, given his compromised state. That kind of thing can bother omegas in heat, she knows. 

“That’s what people tell me,” is all she says. Obviously it’s not just the default parts of her scent that make it a strong deterrent, but as for the force of the emotions and claim she can put into it . . . 

Well. She just hears it’s “discouraging” to other alphas pretty regularly, that’s all. And also some betas, depending on their sexuality. And, um . . . well, a little closer to “catnip”, for omegas, but . . . 

“I’ll believe it when I smell it, knothead,” Red Hood snorts again. “Prove it.” 

Jazz isn’t sure that’s a good idea, considering–again–his compromised state, but, well . . . he’s clearly a strong omega himself, and maybe she’s a little miffed by him just assuming she’s lying about something like that, that’s all. She knows plenty of alphas do lie about their pheromones or even lay on fake ones, but . . . well, it’s hard not to wonder if he just thinks she’s a lesser alpha because she’s female, or because of how she’s dressed or looks or speaks, or just because. 

Her inner alpha doesn’t love the experience of one of the most gorgeous-smelling omegas she’s ever scented sneering at her worth as an alpha without even giving her a shot to prove it, either way. 

“Are you sure?” she asks.

#dpxdc #anger management ship #hardcover ship #wip: alpha jazz and a dark alley #tabetharasa #omegaverse

[zygomantic]

Nanami comforting a sad/depressed fem reader after he comes home from work. (Had a horrible day/week and need any kind of comfort)

A/n: Honestly same. Always happy to provide comfort, thank you for your request! This is very short but it is what it is. Also, reader could be considered gender neutral.

You're not alone.

Synopsis: Your husband Nanami comes home from work and finds you crying on the couch. He helps you through it.

Content Warnings: Mentioned Depression, negative thoughts

You blankly stared at the TV, which by now had been running for multiple hours. You'd spent your hours flicking through channels and streaming services, hoping to find anything interesting to pass the time until your husband came home.

Your frustration grew the longer you searched. Why did this have to be so complicated? Fuck, it just added to the pile shit that didn't work like you wanted to. Your job was stressing you out and you knew the next months weren't going to be any more relaxed. Nanami was just as busy, mission after mission keeping him away from home. You missed him but didn't fault him for doing his job.

Since this morning you were feeling down, and though you'd struggled with depression in the past, it usually didn't creep up this fast or suddenly. You knew very well that you were still recovering and that recovery wasn't a linear process, but a small part of you felt disappointed in yourself for feeling like this again.

Or maybe you felt comfortable like this. It was so easy, so familiar. If you were really on the way back to depression, you didn't think you had any strength left to pull you out of it again and forcing Nanami to help you made you feel selfish. It wasn't his problem that your mind was broken and your thoughts shitty.

It was all too much and your nose started burning, then your eyes watered and you didn't bother stopping the tears as they escaped. A headache had begun to form in the back of your head and you just sobbed harder.

By the time a key turned in the front door lock your face was soaked with tears and your eyes were red and puffy. You must've looked horrible, because Nanami's eyes furrowed as he walked into the room and saw you. You hadn't even hear him call out your name when he entered, too absorbed in your thoughts.

Nanami didn't bother hanging up his jacket, just dropped it to the floor and immediately made his way over to you. His hand was on your back, rubbing soothing circles into it as he tried to figure out what was wrong. First, however, he needed you to breathe.

"Darling, can you hear me?" His voice must've registered somewhere in your mind because you nodded, despite having already forgotten what he asked. "Good," he said, continuing his comforting. "I need you to breathe, dear. You remember the box breathing, right?" Another nod. "Alright. Now breathe in for four," he instructed and you tried to follow, not counting the seconds but still trying. "Hold for four," you did, "and exhale for four. Now pause for four."

It became easier after the first minute and Nanami walked you through every second of it. Once you'd gotten your breathing back under control, new tears threatened to escape at the though of how much of a burden you were. Always making him take care of you like you're a child or baby, how embarrassing.

"Don't." You looked up at your husband in confusion. "I can tell when you're thinking poorly of yourself. Don't do that. Please."

Your voice was quiet as you answered. "Okay." You pulled your legs up under the blanked and curled up into a ball.

Nanami's hand was still rubbing your back. "Can you tell me what caused this? What's going on? "

"I'm sorry. Sorry." Tears streaked down your face and Nanami's warm, big hand swiped them away carefully.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. We all have our off days. I'm sorry yours had to be today." His voice was so deep, so comforting, almost like a light to cling to while the rest of the world was trying to drown you.

"Work's just been..." You trailed off, not really wanting to think about all the things you had to do and the insane amount of paperwork that had to filed until the end of the not to mention the coworker that-

"Stressful?" His voice ripped you out of your thoughts again. "I get what that's like. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I- just don't leave. Please. I don't want to go back to feeling like I did months ago. I can't- I-" Your throat closed up just speaking about theast time your depression hit you hard.

"I'm not letting you do this alone. I promise." His hand pulled you into his body for a hug and you melted into him. "I'm here for you. Always."

"Thank you." He almost didn't hear you, you were so quiet. "Thank you so much."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen comfort #nanami kento comfort #nanami comfort #comfort #jujutsu fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #nanami fluff #jjk fluff #fluff #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk comfort #nanami fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #nanami x you #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader

[chubs-deuce]

Hi!!

So, I’ve been reading If You Like Piña Coladas and I’m absolutely loving it — it’s superbly written and I love all the art you make for it!! The sunset illustration especially made me stop reading for a minute just to freak out over how beautiful it is!

As I was reading, I had some thoughts about your AU with Dawn and have some questions if you don’t mind answering them!

Basically with the introduction of Frederick in Chapter 2, it made me wonder what Dawn would think of the human world if she was on a family vacation with her parents in this AU?

Is there anything in particular you think she might enjoy and how do you think she’d respond to being around human children like Frederick? I was wondering if she’d fit in really quickly or if would she struggle because there probably are very few children in Hell and she might not be used to meeting with kids her age.

I imagine Frederick wouldn’t be her choice of friend for obvious reasons, but at the same time I find the idea of Alastor fuming about them bonding quite funny XD

It’s honestly so so awesome that we have so many amazing artists and writers like you and your friend in the Charlastor fandom — I love the ship on its own, but I think the amazing community of creative people who share their love for the pairing online makes it extra special 🦌🌈🎶🔥

first of all thank you so so much for reading and I'm so happy to hear you're enjoying it!!! :D it sure is a blast to work on and me and @hazbinhobo are having a ton of fun with it!!!

And ohhh boy :'DDD

I think Frederick in particular would be difficult to actually be friends with, since he's very much the kind of gamer kid snob who wants nothing to do with other kids if they're not on "his level" - like the kind of kid who screams at you about how much you suck in online games and resorts to cheating and hacks way too quickly

he's a griefing little dickhead basically

Alas this is the first thing came to mind haha:

#chubs answers #charlastor fankid #charlastor fanchild #hazbin hotel oc #others ocs #bc Frederick is actually Hazbinhobo's creation #chubs ocs #dawn morningstar #digital art #my art #art

[cosmicluvcore]

To be human part 2

Rottmnt Leo x reader, gender neutral, friends to lovers, himbo Leo (?), one sided pining

Part 1 here

Summary: Leo has the biggest crush on you but he's afraid that you'd never date a mutant, so with the help of a clooking broach he plans to become your perfect human boyfriend!

☆

Idk if you can tell but this is kinda Aladdin inspired

Also I wasn't sure abt posting this since it has no Y/N interactions umm so sorry if you're dissapointed

I promise the next one will have fluffy moments between Y/N and Leo!! Sorry this is short

Tag list!!

@lunaflyer @wings-of-sapphire @ssak-i @nessarolla-in-constant-flux @envyjmoney

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"¿Qué hice para merecer esto?" Is what the disgruntled Señor Hueso muttered under his breath, as he watched Leo come crashing into his restaurant.

Of all the times that mutant decides to show up, it had to be on a good day. A loud sigh left the skeleton's mouth as he watched the turtle bump into one of his waiters, knocking all the dishes out of her hand.

"Señor! Señor!" Leo called out eagerly as he approached, "I have a really, really important request and you have to-"

He was interrupted by Hueso placing his hand up, narrowing his eyes in annoyance.

"Instead of disturbing my guests, Pepino, let's talk in the staff room."

~

Leo was still wiping spilled spaghetti off himself as he spoke. Amazingly, that didn't stop his excited flow.

"Señor, bone head, buddy! Long time no see, right?" Leo asked in an overly friendly manner, offering Hueso a hand.

Hueso glanced at his hand, which had marinara sauce on it, before glancing back at Leo with an unimpressed expression.

"Uf hijo, did you just come here to cause trouble?" He asked rather bluntly.

Leo chuckled to himself, "Of course not! I just came here for a little... help."

"Help?" Hueso repeated, tilting his head as he watched Leo's over excited behavior.

"Yeah, I was wondering if you could help me get my hands on a cloaking brooch." He explained briefly while wiping away the bit of sauce that was on his shoulder.

"A cloaking brooch?" Hueso repeated raising his brow, "Why would you need one of those? I've seen you walk among humans like it's nothing."

"It's not for that."

Leo bit his lip unsure whether he should let the truth spill, no one knew of his little crush and he was afriad if he started talking about them he wouldn't know when to stop. So he took the easier route.

"It's for uh- You know... science." He lied, smiling awkwardly as if that made his reply more believable.

Señor Hueso simply shot him an unconvinced expression.

"Este idiota..." The skeleton muttered under his breath, "Why don't you just say why you really want it? It would save you from the embarrassment of lying to my face."

Yeah, Hueso wasn't buying it. Figures.

"Okay okay, I'll admit that wasn't my best performance," Leo said with a grin, although his trade mark smirk faded into a small frown as Hueso stared back at him with narrowed eyes.

"Truth is I'm trying to impress someone..." He admitted quietly, his gaze darting to the ground, while he fidgeted with his hands sheepishly.

Hueso blinked in surprise at the turtles sudden shyness, "Trying to impress someone?" He repeated curiously, looking back to the blushing turtle for futher confimration.

Leo bit his lip, his heart fluttering at the thought of them, "A human." He confessed softly.

"I've never felt this way about anyone before, they're just perfect in every way!" He explained brightly, though his happy expression faultered, "But, I don't think they'd be interested in, this whole situation." He frowned, gesturing to himself.

Hueso nodded slowly as he listened, "I see," He hummed in reply, looking thoughtful as he considered Leo's situation for a moment, "So you want to pretend to be human and lie to them?"

Leo frowned at the skeletons blutness, "It's not a lie! I'm just... bending... the truth," He said, his brow furrowing as he spoke.

Even he didn't believe himself this time.

"Alright it's kinda a lie, but what other chance do I have?"

"I don't know, tell them the truth?" Hueso retorted, Leo couldn't help but roll his eyes as he was lectured on the obvious answer, "If you really think this person is worth it, then you should be honest with them."

"The last thing I need to be is honest." The turtle insisted stubbornly, his expression souring at the idea of even attemping to tell his crush how he felt.

Leo hated to picture it, he hated that he knew his voice would tremble as he would try his best to convey to them how deeply he felt.

He hated how he knew he would stammer over his words as he scrambled to find the best way to express his feelings.

And then he would have to wait impatiently for their reply, fearing the worst, after this new discovery.

Not like he could blame Y/N.

Who wouldn't turn down a nervous idiot? And why would anyone ever be interested in someone who looks like him?

"I don't want to risk losing them." Leo finally said, sighing before meeting Hueso gaze again with a serious expression.

"Look, all I need is a brooch. I just want a chance to be with them and make them happy. Please, Señor?"

As Hueso watched Leo's sad expression he was still unsure how to reply, he knew this was an awful idea yet Leo seemed so attached to it. The puppy dog eyes that the blue masked turtle was giving him eventually casused a defeated sigh escape Hueso's mouth.

"Fine, I have a spare somewhere around here," Hueso muttered reluctantly, too tired to keep pushing, turning to his desk and opening a drawer, "Just don't blame me when things go terribly wrong."

Leo's expression immediately brightened.

"Really?!" He leaned over Señor Hueso's shoulder, eagerly watching as the skeleton searched.

Eventually, Hueso found it, a gold gemstone-adorned brooch.

As Leo looked at the badazzled brooch, excitement began to bubble in his chest, the glamorous item really did make this whole situation seem a lot cooler. This was his key to being Y/N's perfect romantic partner, something he'd dreamed of for far too long that was now finally a possibility. His heart soared at the thought.

"Here," Hueso said, handing him the brooch, "Try not to get spaghetti on it, Pepino."

Leo was practically vibrating with excitement as the brooch was placed into his hands. He nodded at Hueso's words despite not really hearing them.

"Thanks Señor! I can keep this right?" He asked.

"Just don't damage it." Hueso warned in reply, "If you do, it could stop-"

But before he got the chance to finish his words, Leo had disappeared into another blue portal.

"-working..."

#Spotify #rottmnt #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt leo x you #rottmnt tbh #rottmnt to be human #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x y/n #rottmnt x you #tbh #to be human #rottmmt x gn reader #gn reader #rottmnt leo x y/n #rottmnt leo x gn reader #rottmnt leo #rottmnt Leonardo #rottmnt himbo leo #tmnt x reader #Idk if this is himbo #hes being a bit of a silly billy rn #but its because hes excited #senor hueso #rottmnt senor hueso #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rise leo #rise x reader #rise leo x reader #rise of the tmnt x reader

[aemrsy]

Jake Webber x reader you guys start to become really close ur Tara’s friend so you are always around and he starts to develop a huge crush on you

sugary love

a/n: this is so much longer than i usually write but this request really inspired me so here it is!!!

summary: you and jake are forced to be alone together because tara bailed but it ends extremely well for you two

tw: none

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

you recently started doing youtube and it was really working out for you the people loved you. when you started growing in popularity you attended influencer parties and got to know alot of really cool people one of them being tara yummy, you guys had alot in common when it came to your content and the way you dress so naturally you grew really close to her which meant you were always around her friends.

her ex boyfriend jake and her had a really close relationship which shocked you but the more you hung out with them the more you realized they were actually just friends there wasn't any tension between them the friendship felt real and genuine.

tara and zach from the dropouts podcast that she works as a co-host on have been dating for about a month now and she's been telling you all about it their relationship is so adorable and you love hearing all about it but sometimes it just makes you wanna crawl in a hole and die because of how single you felt seeing them together but it was nice to see tara happy.

jake had a food stream scheduled for you, him and tara which you were really excited about because it was the first food stream you'd be in.

you've been in lots of videos with jake, johnnie and tara and they've been in many of yours but you've never been in one of jake's signature food streams.

you were currently on your way to jake's house and you got a call from tara, you picked up anxiously in the backseat of your uber hoping that the uber driver wouldn't be all ears listening to the conversation you were about to have.

"hey tar, what's up?"

you said starting the conversation you assumed she'd say she's running a bit late or she can't find anything to wear.

"y/n i'm so sorry girl, but i can't come today i've got a date with zach it didn't cross my mind when i made plans with jake. i just called him and he said it was fine but i wanted to let you know i won't be there today"

this was the first time that you and jake were gonna be alone you two are close but weirdly you haven't hung out alone at all so you were in for an awkward time when you got there.

"shit ugh it's fine it's okay, i hope you have a really good time with zach tonight and you better tell me all the gorey details when you get home babe."

you said with a laugh, you two said you're goodbyes over the phone after that and it didn't take that much longer before you got to the house.

you got there and knocked on the door and you admired the surroundings of the house while you waited, who knew jake would keep his front yard so clean?

jake swings the door open taking you out of your thoughts. you looked up at him he was wearing a black tank top and his 'no name' pj pants you let out a sigh of relief after seeing that he wasn't wearing anything too fancy because you were wearing an off the shoulder crop top and sweat pants which was a pretty lazy outfit for you.

he had the car keys to his tesla in his hands. when he went to greet you he took you in for a hug and you felt the cool metal of the car keys on your back.

when you two pulled away from the hug you spoke up,

"i haven't had breakfast i'm starving..what are we eating today?"

it was noonish but it was normal for you to skip on breakfast you just had lots of snacks to make up for it.

you and jake were already walking to the car he opened the car door on the passenger side motioning for you to get in and you did exactly as you were told.

before he shut the door to get in on his side he grabbed the roof of the car door leaning forward to answer your question.

"i was thinking crumbl cookie? i haven't done this week's crumbl review yet"

your eyes lit up you had the biggest sweet tooth ever and you fucking loved cookies so much, you nodded vigorously.

"oh my god yes! i love crumbl"

jake chuckled seeing your childlike excitement. he made his way around the car and got into the driver's seat, as he started driving off you looked out the window awkwardly fiddling with a strand of your hair.

jake couldn't keep his eyes off you which made it hard to focus on the road he thought you looked absolutely stunning (like he always does). the car ride was silence with lots of tension and awkwardness hanging around the air, you made it to crumbl before it got too awkward thankfully.

jake reached out and put his hand on the back of your seats head rest looking back as he parked the car.

this did something to you and you couldn't help but admire how he looks so focused so careful, before you could look away his eyes caught yours he smirked as your face turned a bright pink.

you looked away cursing yourself under your breath. he spoke up sensing your embarrassment,

"well we're here"

you look over at him and he's pursing his lips waiting for you to respond.

"yeah yeah um i'm just gonna.."

you go to open the car door but he grabs your wrist firmly enough for you to stop but not too harsh he quickly got out of the car to open the door for you.

"wow jake what a gentleman"

you said teasingly as you nudged his arm a little, he chuckled closing the car door behind you before you both made your way into the place.

as soon as you got in there the smells were heavenly, you took a deep breath taking it all in while jake made his way over to the counter to order.

the flavors this week were milk chocolate chip, confetti milkshake, galaxy brownie, strawberry cupcake and snicker doodle.

your mouth watered at the sight of the box when jake picked it up from the counter.

you grabbed it from him as if it were your first born child and rushed over to the car with him.

the two of you sat down in the car, jake was setting up his phone to start streaming, you pulled out the mirror on the passenger seat side fixing your hair and reapplying your lip gloss.

jake looked over at you his heart thumped a little louder as you pursed your lips forward after finishing.

"you look so pretty"

he blurted out he was a little embarrassed saying something so risky but he played it off cool.

you too tried to hide the fact that you were extremely flustered and you looked at him to reply,

"thanks jake you don't look too bad yourself"

you placed a hand on his face pinching the flesh of his cheek as a grandma would to her grandchild .

jake rolled his eyes playfully and started the stream,

"hey chat! today we're gonna be trying this week's crumbl cookies with the very special miss y/n"

he motioned over to you and you waved smiling at the camera.

the two of you tried all the cookies and were very satisfied with most of them this week's batch did not dissapoint at all.

you were finally on your last cookie of the day before ending the stream it was the galaxy brownie one the one you were most excited for,

jake picked it up splitting it in two and he gave you the bigger half. your heart melted at the gesture you gave him a big genuine smile that was a silent 'thank you'.

you guys both took big bites of the cookie and nodded in approval together just enjoying the chocolatey goodness.

jake looked over to you and his eyebrows furrowed ,

"hey you got some on your face"

you frantically tried to find the spot to wipe it off but you failed miserably.

"here let me"

jake said before reaching out and wiping it off your face. his thumb lingered on your lips for a moment you couldn't get over the way he was looking at you it's as if he was saying 'i really want to kiss you' with his eyes your heart was beating out of your chest at this point.

you both were suddenly very aware that you were still on stream and it took you out of the trance you were in. he swiftly moved his hand away clearing his throat awkwardly.

you curiosly looked at chat letting out a barley audible gasp as you read what was being said,

y/nluvr: bro the sexual tension omg

jakewebbersgf: the eye contact??

iluvjakeandjohnnie: he's literally in love with her

tarashoe: i ship so hard wtf

you gave jake a knowing look and he opened his mouth to speak so he could wrap up the stream before it got too messy.

"okay guys so i think we're gonna wrap it up here love ya so much byee"

you waved bye to jake's phone camera before setting your hands down in your lap and fiddling with your fingers nervously.

jake notices your nerves and tries to push down his own nerves as he speaks,

"so uhm.."

his nerves get the best of him and he can't think of anything to say.

you on the other hand had a wave of bravery and confidence wash over you and you shake your head in a 'i might regret this' kind of way looking into his eyes and leaning in, your lips touch for a second.

he grabbed your face and pulled you in again this time it was passionate and loving you felt bliss.

when the two of you pulled away you were all giggly like teens that just had their first kiss.

his hands were rested on your cheek yours on the nape of his neck.

"so does this mean i don't have to give you the lengthy story of how i've liked you for so long and i was scared to say anything.. because i think that kiss just said it for me"

he said smiling down at you,

"yeah, do you think your kisses can do all your talking? because that was fucking amazing"

you said with a teasing chuckle. he slid his hands down your body resting them against your waist and pulling you in for another kiss.

the rest of the day was spent talking about your feelings towards each other not knowing you were about to be the internet's next 'it' couple and now everyday on you anniversary you'd get crumbl cookie as a reminder of this day.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

#jake and johnnie #jake webber #jake webber x reader #johnnie guilbert x reader #tara yummy x reader #jake webber x y/n #jake webber x you