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ellemj · 5 months

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What Am I To You?

Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Summary: You pissed your fuck buddy off and now he only has one question, but it takes a few orgasms to get the right answer out of you.

Warnings: profanity, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, facesitting, light choking, light breeding kink, no use of y/n, praise, spanking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings. Thank you to @littlemiss-yeehaw for the ones listed above, she's a gem.

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: This filth came from a random 4am thought that created the dialogue in the first paragraph. I had to use it. Everyone should totally beg @littlemiss-yeehaw to post the horny lil sketch she started for this one-shot. Side note, should I start a tag list for people who want to be tagged in all fics I post? Idk, I'm still way too new to Tumblr to be running a blog like this lmfao. I need a team of advisors.

“Do you know who the fuck you’re talking to? Get on the bed, I’ll show you.” You stay where you are, standing in the doorway of his bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest in a show of defiance. “Get on the fucking bed, right now.” He repeats, pointing a finger at his bed. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s seconds away from dishing out a punishment, one that he’ll enjoy far more than you, so you shuffle forward and crawl onto the bed as he watches. Good girl.

You’ve been here before. You know what he wants from you. He wants you on your hands and knees, with no looking back over your shoulder to see what’s coming. So that’s how you settle yourself, on your hands and knees, staring down at the soft, ruffled up bedding beneath you.

“What am I to you?” He asks, his tone scarily calm and even. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. What kind of answer is he looking for? You’re just fuck buddies. You use each other to de-stress after missions. It’s never been anything more, not once in the past two months that it’s been going on has there ever been so much as a hint that it could be something more.

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly. You listen intently as the familiar sound of Bucky’s belt buckle coming undone fills the silence in the room. A chill races through your body, dancing across the surface of your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“You don’t know…” Bucky tsks. You can’t see him, but he’s standing a couple of feet away from the foot of the bed, letting his eyes rake over your nearly exposed ass as he unbuttons his shirt. The little black dress that you’re wearing barely covers anything with the position you’re in, and he’s fucking thankful for it. In fact, if you hadn’t pissed him off tonight, he probably would’ve found some way to fuck you during the mission just because of that dress. But you pissed him off. “I’ll help you figure it out.” Bucky steps forward now, his warm right hand and cool, metal left hand both gracing the skin of your right ankle as he begins taking off your heels. He drops one to the floor before moving on to the other, and then he strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side as well.

“I thought we were just—”

“You don’t want to finish that sentence.” Bucky warns, effectively cutting you off and giving you a chance to save yourself. It’s beyond clear now that this isn’t just a fuck buddies situation to him anymore. It did start out that way though. Two months ago when you two stumbled into bed together, he proposed a friends-with-benefits type of relationship so casually that you would’ve thought he’d had plenty of them in his lifetime. It worked so well, with the two of you meeting up once or twice a week at either your place or his to blow off steam with good sex. It wasn’t until you were a month in that Bucky started to realize he hated the way you’d leave within half an hour of finishing each other off. He hated that you never slept over. He hated that you still had the freedom to talk to other guys, hell, you could even go out on dates with other guys if you wanted and he wouldn’t be able to say shit about it. Because this was nothing. It was just a casual agreement between friends.

Bucky trails his fingers along your calves slowly, taking his time as he decides what he’s going to do with you. Every other time that you’ve been together, he’s let it be a mutually beneficial thing. There was never a time where only one of you pleased the other, because that would’ve defeated the purpose of the arrangement. He would’ve been perfectly content with solely pleasuring you here and there, giving you everything while taking nothing for himself, but you always reciprocated and he never stopped you. But now, he’s going to do exactly what he wants. He’s going to show you what he is to you in the best way that he knows how: by making you come undone for him, by reminding you that no one else has ever or will ever make you feel the way that he can.

As Bucky pulls his hands away from your calves, you hear the sound of his pants dropping to the floor, the sound of his dog tags shifting around his neck and tapping against his bare chest with his movements, and then the sound of a deep sigh leaving his lips. Anticipation courses through your veins and mixes with adrenaline, creating a dangerous compound that only seems to encourage the wetness seeping into your panties. You shift on the bed, wiggling your hips and wishing you could clench your thighs together for even the smallest amount of friction. Bucky, of course, notices you moving and quickly gains control of the situation.

“Impatient, huh? Do you need something?” He questions slyly, letting his hands connect with your calves once again. You’re fooled by his gentle touch, your body not at all expecting his flesh hand to suddenly smack against your ass. “Answer me.” Holy shit. He’s never been quite like this with you before.

“I need you.” You answer, hoping he’ll give you anything in return.

“You don’t even know what I am to you, yet you need me?”

“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as his hands glide further up your legs, past the crooks of your knees and along the sides of your thighs. When both of his hands reach the curve of your ass, he begins pushing the hem of your dress up around your waist. The silence is deafening.

He wasn’t planning to be so rough with you, but as soon as his eyes land on the tiny black thong that was previously hidden beneath your tiny black dress, his hands start functioning on autopilot. A low groan rumbles past his lips as he pulls your panties to the side with his vibranium hand and shoves two fingers into your cunt, without a single breath of a warning.

“BUCKY!” You cry out, arching your back and trying to pull away from him. He moves his vibranium hand to grip your left hip, holding you firmly in place while his fingers are still buried knuckle-deep within you. Giving you little time to adjust, he begins sliding them in and out, in and out, giving himself a chance to feel how wet and tight you are for him. Fuck. It’s going to test every bit of his resolve and self-discipline to get through what he plans to do to you tonight.

“That’s it, say my name.” He encourages you, pumping his fingers in and out at a steady pace. When he leans in and attaches his lips to your clit, you fist the bedding in both hands and squeeze your eyes shut. Breathy moans and curses fall from your lips as his tongue circles over the most sensitive part of your body, all while his two fingers are curling inside of you. You’ve never been one to go careening toward an orgasm with little-to-no effort, but Bucky is skilled. That familiar knot is twisting tighter and tighter in your lower stomach as he relentlessly toys with your pussy. He can tell you’re already close to your first orgasm of the night, and as much as he wants to withhold it until you admit that he means something to you, he wants to see you come undone for him even more.

“Bucky, I’m close.” Your voice is breathless, all of your energy is focused on actively denying yourself of your release. For the briefest second, you wonder why your body won’t just go ahead and cum, but then you realize that you want his permission. You want him to tell you to let go, to cum on his fingers and lips. Bucky fucks his fingers into you a little harder and deeper, reaching a spot that has your eyes rolling back in your head and your toes curling. Another loud moan from you has Bucky digging his vibranium fingers into your hip with enough force to leave bruises. He knows you’re right on the edge, and it takes him only a second to figure out why you’re not letting go. He pulls his head back for a moment but lets his fingers continue their work.

“Do you want to cum for me, baby?” He asks. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice that sends heat rushing to your cheeks. You nod your head fervently and he chuckles at your neediness. “Who gets you this wet? This desperate for release?” Fuck.

“You, Bucky.” You moan out your response as he pulls his fingers nearly all the way out and slides them back in at the slowest pace yet.

“Who else?” He demands to know, picking up the pace once again.

“No one, only you.” Your answer is honest and it earns you his mouth back on your clit. He sucks and licks at it like his life depends on your impending orgasm. He gets you right back to the edge within seconds, before breaking away from your clit momentarily just to say cum for me. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers as you unintentionally grind against his mouth. He flattens his tongue against your clit and lets you take everything you need. After a few more seconds of immense pleasure, the legs and arms that have been so dutifully holding you up are threatening to collapse.

“What am I to you?” Bucky repeats his question from earlier, but still, your answer is the same.

“I don’t know.” Your voice is quieter now, weaker since the first orgasm took so much energy out of you. Bucky shakes his head, though you can’t see him from your current position. He didn’t think you’d have a better answer after just one orgasm, but he’s going to give you a chance after each one anyway.

“Lay on your back.” Bucky commands. You do as you’re told. As you finally make eye contact with him, he can see the thankfulness in your gaze. You were getting tired of holding the same position. Bucky steps forward and places one knee on the bed, his hands sliding up your thighs. His fingers snag along the waistband of your thong before he begins pulling it down your legs. You bend your knees to make it easier, and he slips it off gently before dropping it on the floor with your heels and his clothes. He climbs onto the bed now, your legs instantly spreading to let him between them. He crawls over your body and the new sensation of his warm skin against yours is delicious. You wish he would’ve taken your dress off already. When you feel the outline of his hard cock, still covered by his boxers, pressing against your wet, sensitive cunt, your eyes flutter closed and your legs instinctively wrap around his hips. You’ve always been a sucker for this, for having him pressed against you so close yet not close enough. It’s always made you a bit feral and Bucky’s fully aware of that. A knowing smirk spreads across his features as he puts a little more weight into your position, pressing his cock against you a little harder. When you open your eyes and look up at him, he has to remind himself that he can’t just give in a fuck the shit out of you right now. He has an end goal.

“Why do we still have clothes on?” You ask, referring to your dress and his boxers. Bucky chuckles lowly starts circling his hips against you, drawing a soft hum from your pretty lips. He dips his head down and starts leaving light kisses along the side of your neck. He knows that’s a weakness of yours too, his mouth anywhere on your skin. It’s one of the first tactics he deploys when he wants to fuck but he isn’t sure if you’re up for it or not.

“Do you want our clothes off?” Bucky breathes the question against the skin just below your earlobe and you find yourself having trouble concentrating. He can feel you nod, but he doesn’t actually give a damn about what you want right now. He’s not a monster though, so he’ll give you half of what you want. He pushes himself off of you in one swift movement and stands on the floor beside the bed. You turn your head to watch as he slides his boxers down his legs and kicks them off. They join the pile that consists of the rest of his clothes, your heels, and your thong on the floor. When he returns to his position on top of you, you stick out your bottom lip in a pout over him not removing your dress. He’s quick to lean in and suck that bottom lip in between his teeth, biting down on it lightly before slipping his tongue into your mouth. He always tastes so fucking good, though you can never pinpoint what he tastes like. It’s just him. Honestly, you’d let him spit in your mouth if he wanted to.

Bucky kisses a lot like he fucks, with so much passion that it makes your heart race and your mind reel. It makes you think about how mediocre every other kiss with any other guy was, about how kissing was just a minor part of foreplay until you started kissing him. Now kissing is everything. Your hands travel up his sides and settle on either side of his face as you fight to deepen the kiss. When you suck on his tongue, he groans into your mouth and pulls back. You love the way his lips and nose get pink when he kisses you like that.

“No more kissing.” Bucky rasps. You let out a whine that makes his cock twitch. He loves hearing how needy you are for him, but it’s especially enjoyable when he hears how needy you are just for him to kiss you. He starts grinding his now bare cock along the folds of your pussy with just the right amount of pressure, focusing his efforts on your clit. He probably should’ve used his mouth and fingers again for this one, because he’s far too close to cumming just from feeling how wet you are against his shaft. His cock collects your wetness more and more with each thrust of his hips, and for a second he thinks about just letting the tip slide in. He won’t do it though, not yet. He won’t put his cock inside of you until he’s ready to make you cum for the third time.

“You’re being a tease tonight.” You pout, letting your hands find his hips and using your grasp there to pull him harder against you. He stills himself and you let out a frustrated sigh. Why isn’t he giving you more?

“You’re being greedy. You already came once, you should be saying thank you.” Bucky retorts, pushing himself up with his hands and sitting back on his knees between your legs. Your eyes are quick to zone in on his cock, just as his flesh hand is wrapping around it and giving it a firm stroke from the base to the tip. God, you’ve always loved seeing him touch himself. He doesn’t do it in front of you often. Normally the two of you are quick to get down to business and just fuck, but there have been a few very memorable times where you get to see him stroke his cock right before he guides it inside of you. Your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip, and for a second Bucky imagines that same tongue all over his fucking cock. No. This isn’t about him tonight. This is about finally making you see what’s been right in front of you all along.

“Please.” The word leaves your lips so softly, so gently, that Bucky’s hand hesitates around his length. He’s never heard you beg before. You’ve never had a reason to, he always gave you what you needed, before you had to ask. A dark feeling settles within his chest as he realizes he likes it.

“Please?” He repeats the word, as if he doesn’t understand the meaning. You see the way his gaze changes from one of lust to one of pure desire. He wants more.

“Please, Bucky. Fuck me.” You give him the most innocent look you can muster up as you lay there in his bed with your pussy exposed and nearly dripping onto his bedding. He tightens his fist around the base of his cock and scrunches his eyes closed, clearly trying to talk himself down from blowing his load way too fucking soon. If he sits there and looks at you any longer, he won’t last, he won’t be able to make it to his end goal tonight. The only thing he can think of to keep himself on track is something that’ll easily obscure his vision of you.

“No, you’re going to sit on my face.” He says roughly, positioning himself on his back next to you. He looks over at you impatiently, he almost looks offended that you’re not already changing positions for him. You’re quick to sit up and swing a leg over his torso, straddling his chest but not making any contact with him yet. “I said my face, sweetheart.”

“I know, but—” You’re about to point out that he’s already eaten you out once tonight and you haven’t even had the chance to reciprocate, when he abruptly grasps your thighs and pulls you over his head. “Fuck.” You mumble the curse word out as he easily pulls you down, your cunt making contact with his mouth as he dives in. You can’t form a single thought as his tongue delves into you. He fucks you with it almost as thoroughly as he did with his fingers just a few minutes ago, thrusting it in and out while your clit brushes against the tip of his nose. His hands slide back to grip your ass and you have to brace your hands on the headboard to keep from putting your full weight on his face. He can feel your resistance and he hates it. He lifts you up an inch just to chastise you.

“I said sit on my fucking face, not hover over it.” He pulls you down again but this time he brings his right hand in to rub harsh circles against your clit as his tongue continues its work on your entrance. You’re panting and breaking out in a sweat within a few seconds. You still haven’t fully sat on his face, so he’s going to give you one more punishment and see if you’ll give in. His vibranium hand moves away from you and the swings back once more, slapping your ass so hard that you fall forward a bit, your cunt landing firmly against Bucky’s mouth. He hums against your pussy in approval, and the sound sends vibrations through your core. Fuck. You’re going to cum a second time and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. When he sets just the right pressure and pace with his flesh fingers on your clit, and his tongue starts lapping into you like eating pussy is his fucking career, your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Your chest is heaving and your knuckles are turning white as your death grip on the headboard threatens to bruise your palms.

“Fuck, I’m cumming. Oh my god, Bucky!” You cry the words out so loudly, yet your voice sounds so far away in your own ears as your orgasm short circuits your entire nervous system. After a few seconds, you realize you’re grinding lazy circles against Bucky’s mouth, and he’s letting you. “Shit.” You mutter, using all of your remaining strength to try to dismount his face. He grasps your thighs to stop you, and then places a long, gentle kiss right against your clit, sucking on it in the slightest bit as he pulls back. Then, he lets you go. You collapse on the bed next to him, your breasts threatening to spill over the low-cut neckline of your dress from tonight’s activities thus far.

“What am I to you?” Bucky asks a third time, rolling onto his side to face you. He gazes at you with a much gentler expression than earlier as he brushes a few loose strands of hair away from your face. He thinks you look so damn perfect like this. You always glow after sex, but after two orgasms you could be mistaken for the fucking sun.

“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as you desperately search your brain for the answer he’s looking for. He obviously doesn’t want you to say that he’s your fuck buddy, and maybe he isn’t. You probably shouldn’t feel as jealous as you do when he ends up on missions with Sharon instead of you, that’s not very fuck-buddy-friendly of you. You also probably shouldn’t hate the few minutes after sex when he’s catching his breath in bed while you’re pulling your clothes on, hoping he won’t be annoyed with how long it takes you to get out of his apartment. Maybe you’re more than fuck buddies. But still, you don’t know what to call it. “I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure.” Bucky repeats slowly, as if he’s tasting the words. His facial expression remains gentle, but the light in his eyes darkens. “Take off your dress.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You push yourself up and sit on the side of the bed before pulling the dress over your head and letting it fall to the floor. You haven’t even had the chance to lay back down when he starts moving to sit right behind you, letting his legs come around either side of you so your back presses against his chest. Ah, you see where he’s going with this. The wall that you’re both now facing has a tall standing mirror, giving you the perfect view of your naked body in front of his in the dim light of his bedroom. “Look at yourself.” Bucky coos, cupping your chin with his flesh hand and tilting your head up the tiniest bit. “So fucking pretty.”

His words have you blushing for some reason. Of all of the times you’ve been naked in his bed, you don’t recall him ever saying sweet things to you just for the sake of saying them. Maybe he thought them, you wouldn’t know, but he sure as hell never said them. It sends a wave of warmth throughout your body, and your already pink-tinged cheeks take on another layer of blush. With almost no effort, Bucky places his hands on your hips and pushes you up to a standing position. He then tucks his legs between yours and then grips his cock in his hand. He gives it a few slow pumps before angling you above it and then guiding you to sit down. Right on his fucking dick. The moan that leaves your lips as your head falls back against his shoulder could’ve come from amateur porn. The penetration feels as if it’s happening in slow motion, as you take one-fourth, then half, then three-fourths, and then…his entire fucking cock inside of you.

“That’s it, baby, all of it.” Bucky begins peppering kisses across your neck and right shoulder, but his eyes are locked on the mirror, staring at where the two of you are connected. “Whose fingers make you cum?” He asks, as his right hand skims down your side, straight to your clit. He uses his middle and ring fingers to start gently massaging your already-sensitive clit. You lift your head to meet his gaze in the mirror.

“Yours.” You answer quietly, slowly beginning to slide up and down his length. You’re only moving an inch at a time, not yet adjusted nor ready to fuck his cock how it deserves to be fucked.

“Good girl.” Why does such simple praise from him make you feel like you’re having a mini orgasm on the spot? Jesus. You start fucking half of his cock now, lifting yourself up and then sitting back down, but not daring to pull off anywhere near the tip. “Whose mouth makes you cum?”

“Yours.” You say again, a little louder this time as the pleasure begins building low in your stomach once more.

“That’s right, you’re doing so good for me, baby.” Bucky picks up the pace with his hand. His work on your clit is making stars flash in your vision and your pussy continuous clench around his cock. “And who do you let cum in this perfect little pussy? Huh? Who does this belong to?” He asks, his eyes once again drifting down in the mirror until they land on where his cock is disappearing inside of you. He groans as you sit fully down on it again.

“You, Bucky.” You moan, now fully adjusted to his thick length. You start bouncing on it, unable to control yourself any longer. Bucky’s having none of that. He quickly slides his flesh hand up your stomach, between your breasts, and wraps it around your neck. He isn’t choking you, he’s merely gaining your full attention with an authoritative move. You freeze, your eyes locking onto his in the mirror as you sit there with his entire length inside of you.

“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you, and then I’m going to cum inside you so fucking deep that you might end up pregnant.” His filthy words give you as much pleasure as any touch, any kiss, any physical thing he could ever do to you. Your pussy tightens around him at the promise that he’s just spoken. “Now tell me, why would you be here right now, letting me do that? What am I to you?”

“Everything.”

Finally, you gave him the right answer.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu #bucky barnes x you #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes smut #smut #mcu smut #marvel smut #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

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wonderlandrry · 26 days

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hi, this is my first ever attempt at writing on tumblr!! the story could be more than one part if you like it (maybe three or four parts). this is also my first time not writing in first person pov so hopefully it doesn’t suck complete ass. (not really edited and idk how to format either so GREAT first impression, friends.)

pov: best friend! harry x you (aka i tried my best lmao)

blurb: you and harry have been best friends your whole life and one night changes everything.

contains: friends to lovers, bad girl x good boy if you squint, smoking green 🍃, smut, cussing, oral (giving and receiving for both characters), praise kink, and size kink if you squint really hard again and read between the lines lmao.

word count: 5k

• NOT RAMADAN FRIENDLY •

just friends

“You sure you don’t want me to come up?” Rylan’s honey eyes flick from your dorm bulging back to yours. The tension from tonight’s argument is fresh in those crinkles next to his eyes that you used to love. Fucking adore.

Parting your lips, you sigh, “See you around.”

“Don’t be like that,” A ringless hand runs through his dark hair. You’re not exactly sure why you’re focusing on that but here we are. “It was a joke, come on.”

Your hand rests on the door handle, silently contemplating on freaking the fuck out again. This isn’t the first time he’s made jokes, very public jokes about your best friend. The very first time you let it slide with a warning because some people don’t understand that you can be just friends with the opposite gender. They can’t wrap their heads around that not every relationship revolves around sex. You understood but tonight? He went too far.

“Saying Harry follows me like a stray dog,” You have to take a deep breath because Rylan doesn’t know what Harry’s been through. That only pisses you off more. “Was too far.”

“He doesn’t have any friends, Lil, just you.”

“Because he’s smart, he doesn’t have friends because he’s fucking brilliant.” It was true, Harry focused more on school and baseball than friendships. He got a full ride to Calloway University reliant on grades and his pure, raw talent. Some would stop there but he took it a step further by studying physics. Now it’s your turn to run a hand through your hair because this is the fourth fight over your best friend. “Don’t be a dick.”

“Do you not see how fucked that is?” He hisses, making your head snap in his direction. “You’re supposed to be dating me, not him.”

You scoff, “So that’s what this is?”

Rylan’s hold tightened on the steering wheel, so tight that his knuckles were almost white. “Look, I don’t care that you’re friends with him but you spend too much time-”

That confirmed everything for you. Your long friendship with Harry wasn’t the problem. Rylan knew how much Harry meant to you and how your friendship was all you had sometimes. He knew yet the fact that he didn’t have your full attention every waking moment of the day was the source of cruel jokes.

“You’re threatened, huh?” His knuckles blanched even more as the words left your mouth. “Listen to the words coming out of my mouth, Ry. Harry’s been my best friend since I was seven. Nothing has and will never happen between us. I would never sleep with him and ruin our friendship.”

“I see how you guys look at each other.”

Your whole face heats, it’s literally on fire. “You’re seeing things because we’re just friends.”

“You’re in denial.” Fuck. This.

Those three words were enough to push you. Push you to fling open the car door and launch yourself onto the pavement. They were enough to heat your whole body to the point that chilly winter air wasn’t enough to simmer down your anger. You don’t even bother slamming the door shut because that asshole can get out and shut it himself. That’s what he gets for constantly trying to pry a confession out of you. A confession that doesn’t exist but he still won’t accept it. The security guard gives a weary smile as you pass him, an obvious witness of the whole shit show. You look over your shoulder just in time to watch Rylan peel out.

He doesn’t follow you, shocker. Not that you wanted him to but you also didn’t expect him to. He acts like he cares but when push comes to shove, actions don’t match the words constantly flying out of that stupid mouth.

Unlocking and relocking the door with a soft click, your dorm is oddly dark and quiet. It looks like no one has been here all day. This is a possibility since Ellie spends most nights with her boyfriend. You slide off your black vans and place your bag on the hooks by the door. Seniors get a common room and separate bedrooms in student housing and you love the privacy. Honestly? It’s hard as fuck to hook up sharing a room with someone. El never cared who you brought home but felt weird as hell, yano?

From: ball boy (11:35 pm)

you home?

To: ball boy (11:36 pm)

yeah

You loosen your claw clip and honey-blond waves tumble. Walking into your room, you slip out of the cute-ass outfit you spent an hour perfecting and into some random band shirt with no bra and spandex shorts. Such a shame because you looked hot, too bad the night didn’t end with Ry ripping this lacy, black corset off you. Sucks for him.

From: ball boy (11:42 pm)

open the window before Mack catches my ass.

Your eyes snap toward the only windows in your room. The sheer, black curtains were closed but they did a shit job keeping the sunlight out so, honestly, how good were they for privacy? Your heart hammers thinking about Harry seeing you. How he could’ve seen all of you, not just what you choose to show off. The thought made your heart hammer.

From: ball boy (12:46 am)

don’t tell me you’re fucking someone right now

From: ball boy (12:47 am)

fuckin’ sick, lil

Annoyed, you rip open the curtains to find Harry’s cocky expression staring straight at you. It’s too dark to make out his full face but you can tell by the smirk tipping the left side that he’s amused. Making your favorite dimple dent even deeper. In one swift motion, the latch unlocks letting him in. He’s done this a million times, yano? Sneaking in your room for late-night study sessions, movie nights, or sleepovers. You’ve shared a bed countless times but never crossed that line, he’s your best friend. There are rules in place to save your friendship. He means more to you than one night of pleasure. Always has.

“Nice shirt, been looking for that everywhere.” Evergreen eyes bounce across your face, “Thought you had a date.”

You blow out a breath, “Not anymore.”

He smirks, dimple popping, “Obviously.”

“Thought you had plans.” You counter because Harry may not have many friends but that didn’t mean anything when it came to his sex life. He had trouble talking to girls but that didn’t seem to matter because they flocked to him. There was just something about him that drew people in, you included especially you. Maybe it was his ability to make anyone in the room feel special; wanted by having his undivided attention.

His lips purse, “Nah, not tonight.”

“Why?”

He gives you a pointed look giving away that he knows, “You know why.”

Guilt settles into your stomach, that stupid sinking feeling of being caught hit full force. He had the same argument with Grace that you did with Rylan tonight. They seem to argue more though and it kills you seeing him upset. You know he cares about her but he loves you. Maybe not romantically but definitely platonically and that means something to him. Every time they have this conversation, you know you should walk away. It's always your first instinct to protect people you love and you love your best friend. But, you’d rather die than let him go and that’s selfish as fuck but true. You sigh, “Harry-”

“I’m good,” He closes the distance and wraps you into a hug and it feels like home. Your favorite type of hug. “Worried about you.”

You smile against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart hitting your cheek, “Nothing a Star Wars marathon won’t cure, Stud.”

His face lights up, “God, I could kiss you, Lil.”

“Whatever you say, ball boy.” Your heart flutters violently but you ignore the feeling. He always jokes like this in secret and maybe that’s the reason no one believes you’re just friends. But, they’re just jokes, yano.

“Ball boy?” He scoffs, making you tilt your chin to meet his gaze. When your eyes finally focus, Harry’s staring at you with his stupid, dimpled smile. Just because he’s your best friend doesn’t mean you’re completely immune. He’s handsome and you’d be dumb to deny that because, well, you have eyes. Currently, he looks even better from this angle. His hair’s tousled as neat as those chestnut curls will allow and dimples seem more prominent. Deep, inviting indents. The black, backwards hat only adds to the contrast of those evergreen eyes. Your favorite shade of green. A sliver of metal trapped between perfect teeth as he cocks his head. He chuckles, squeezing you tighter, “That’s fucked up.”

Pulling back, you shrug, “You’re the one who plays with them all day.”

His tongue clicks, cheeks hollowing, “Baseball, I play baseball.”

You dismiss him with a wave, walking into the common room. “Whatever helps you hit balls with your bat, Ball boy.”

“Better watch that pretty mouth of yours,” He warns in a low tone, so low that everything tingles. Reaching into his hoodie, he pulls out a bag of weed before plopping on the couch, “because I don’t share with bad girls.”

“Watching Star Wars high?” You grin as he nods. “Man of my dreams.”

Harry smirks, all boyish and full dimples, “Don’t tease.”

After pressing play and settling into the couch, you glance over at him just as the credits begin to roll. He’s lighting a joint, brows set in concentration, pink lips puckered around the paper inhaling slowly before passing it to you.

The next forty minutes fly by in the best, blissfully buzzed way. Time doesn’t have an exact science. We’re happy and having a good time. All the anger from earlier dissipated from you and Harry just being together. His nose found its way under your jaw, right next to your pulse point, some time after fifteen or so minutes. He’s always been affectionate when buzzed but holy fuck, was he toning it down before. You don’t know what changed but his hands haven’t left your waist and he keeps hugging closer to your chest with little sighs and hums of contentment. He smells so fucking good like peppermint, fresh laundry, and smoke.

Your breathing is slow and steady. Completely wrapped in him. Fingers twisting the curls at the nape of his neck until your fingertips tingle to touch him elsewhere. You don’t allow them to go lower than his throat, feeling how harsh each swallow was each time you’d get below the hinge of his jaw. He hums against your neck, nuzzling deeper into the column dangerously like he can’t get enough, “Feeling better?”

“Yes.” You breathe as he hugs tighter, not stopping your feather-like movement through his soft curls. “You?”

“Yeah, that feels good.” His words come out sleepy and deep and gravelly. “Your t-touch always feels good.” Warm evergreen holds all your attention as he kisses your cheek, “Thank you for being here with me. You make everything better, always have.”

Your face tilts, noses inches apart, and whisper. “You make everything better for me too.”

Harry’s the type of man that goes from beautiful to devastating with a change of facial expression. Your hazy brain can’t stop taking him in for some reason. It’s involuntary. That beautiful, sculpted face is hidden at nightfall but you allow yourself to appreciate how much time someone put into crafting him. It’s like you spent the last fifteen years with blinders on and can finally see.

Sage burns into evergreen as his lips roll a few times like he’s trying to come up with a safe response. The irrational part of my brain wants to feel his mouth on you again so bad that you almost crave him. Your lips part at the same time waiting for the other to make a move or do something drastic. Three heartbeats of your mouths seconds apart. Three heartbeats in your own hazy, happy world. His nose nudges yours once before dropping back to your throat. His arms wrapped around you tighter and your breathing synced again. Instead of calm and steady, now it’s erratic and fast.

Fuck, you have to be high, right? Best friends don’t look at each other like this. Especially you guys.

He leans closer, left hand planted on your thigh as we just stare at each other. Almost like he feels it too. Your fingertips ache to touch the stubble dusting his jawline so bad they tingle but you can’t seem to move. Completely lost in the hypnotic desire clouding the calm green of his irises.

Not wanting to put pressure on Harry to make the first move, you close the distance. Not sure why you did that but your mouths part at the same time. His in surprise and yours in want, yet in perfect sync. Pressing your lips to his, he immediately kisses back, cupping your jaw. One second everything’s moving slowly and the next, he’s lifting his shirt over your head. Touching every inch of exposed skin like he can’t get enough. His fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts as yours find his jeans. The kiss breaks as he leans back just enough to look at you. You’re looking at each other in silence but it’s so fucking loud.

“We should-” He swallows harshly, columns of his throat tense, “Don’t wanna finally have you if you’ll regret-”

“Won’t ever regret you, H,” Your voice is hushed yet full of so much want and sincerity. “Don’t stop, we’re okay.”

“Yeah?” He breathes out in relief pressing another kiss to your lips that sends trace currents through your body full force. Finally giving into the sweetest temptation you’ve ever tasted. Forbidden and delicious. This was like an avalanche of feelings and lust in motion, couldn’t stop the cascade if you tried. The aftermath would eventually come but everything would be okay. It had to be.

“Yeah, just friends,” Your lips move with his again but lazier, a slow pace that makes everything come to life. “This doesn’t change anything.”

You lied because this meant everything but you can’t stop.

He blinks like he can see right through your bullshit.

You blink back hoping he doesn’t.

“Just friends.” He repeats only the first half of your lie between kisses, pressing your body further into the couch with his hips.

The words come out breathless.

The words come out easily.

The words come out in cool peppermint.

He starts to drag your shorts off at the same pace the kiss and you lift a little to help. Being this vulnerable, letting the other fully see the other is something you can’t put into words. Your eyes rake his body as his lustful, dark gaze mirrors yours. There aren’t enough fucking words to describe how beautiful he is. Taking in every single detail from his tattoos to his cock pressed between your open thighs. The desperation; everything fucking aches for him. He leans forward, lips parting, eyes darkening by the minute, leaving open-mouth kisses along your jaw until they meet your mouth. The warm metal of his tongue ring claiming every inch of your mouth. He tasted like charged temptation in the best way, like something you didn’t know you craved until now.

Harry whimpers as your legs wrap around his waist. His cock throbs between your thighs and he groans against your lips. The sound vibrating with need; so fucking desperate. Strong hands grip your ass as the kiss deepens. He’s kissing you like you’re oxygen and he’s hungry for air. Almost like he can’t breathe without tasting you. Without having you like this. Staggered, harsh breaths hit the left side of your as his lips descended. Sucking and biting gently at your throat until they reach your chest and wrap around your nipple piercings. Metal clanking salaciously as his tongue swirls, toying with each little bar. His cock throbs again and your head falls back into the throw pillows with a loud moan. The arrogant smirk against your already heated skin only sends fire dancing.

Crackling and humming with each touch. They say fire needs oxygen to grow and Harry was yours. Always has been, he ignites all your fires.

Pulling back slightly, salacious evergreen meets thunderous oceans as he speaks, “So fucking pretty.” His words come out as a rasp, full of raw desperation. “Wanna taste you so fucking bad.” Kisses pepper your face, “Wanna make you feel so good, please? ”

“Y-yes,” You breathe, unable to finish the sentence as his kiss-bruised lips meet yours again and again, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin of your already open thighs, while yours run through his soft curls. Tangling and twisting as your lips move hungrily, desperately. Your teeth trap his tongue ring gently tasting and the sound that escapes his throat is feral. His body pushes against yours as you devour each other. Urgent, hungry, and like you might run out of time or change your mind. Hot, open-mouth kisses descend from your lips to your jaw then stop at the base of your throat.

“Fuck,” The word’s rushed, nearly a pant, as he pulls his sweatshirt over his head. The view of his gorgeous, toned body sends a shiver down your spine. The butterfly on his chest fluttered with each rapid breath. His abs jutting and rippling like it took everything in him not to lose it right then and there. Rough yet gentle hands feather your ribs, gliding effortlessly until they pause at your hips, leaving trace currents branding me with each tortuous touch. The rings on his fingers dig into the sensitive flesh of your hips despite how gentle he’s being. A surprised gasp leaves my lips in a whimper as his grip tightens holding you into place. Your hips tilt, wanting to feel him and he groans, nostrils flaring like he’s in pain, “Want you so bad,” His nose runs against your jaw, “Not gonna last if you keep moving, Lil.”

“Sorry,” You breathe letting your head fall back as it swims with every effortless emotion you feel for him.

“Shh, you’re perfect, so fucking perfect, look at you.” He whispers, the gravelly tone of his voice sending vibrations between your thighs making you ache. A completely desperate ache for him that would be embarrassing if it was anyone but your Harry. Suddenly, he’s kissing you but lazily this time. His lips moved so painfully slow and tender against yours. Kissing like you have all the time in the world. As soon as you match his pace, he breaks the kiss sighing deeply against your parted lips. He studies your face, evergreen locked on blue, as he slowly drifts between your thighs. His hands follow him, traveling down your inked body with ease, until they lock around your upper legs.

“What’re you doing?” You ask breathlessly, trying to keep up with his pace. He ignores you, placing drawn-out kisses trailing from your left hip to inner thigh. Soft moans leave your parted lips each and every time his mouth touches your skin. His kisses are getting closer and closer, nipping and sucking, teasing and torturing. It’s too fucking much. “Harry-”

“Need something, Lil?” He sucks harder on your hip, leaving a purplish bruise on porcelain skin, tilting his head up to meet your gaze with a lazy smirk. So effortlessly sexy.

“Please-” Desperateness clings to the word as your head falls back, unable to handle seeing him between your legs.

“Please what?” Harry smirks against heated skin as your hips move forward, “Use your words, pretty girl.”

“I want-” The sentence pauses at the tip of your tongue. No one’s ever asked what you wanted before. “I’ve never-” Your brows push together trying to find the right word but he reaches up, fingers smoothing the line between them like he understands.

“It’s okay,” He runs the flat of his tongue against your clit and your knees almost push together from pleasure, the round of his tongue ring hitting perfectly. Like he knows exactly what you need. Burning evergreen disappears into the back of his head as he moans against you, fingernails digging into your skin. “Taste so fucking good, Lil. Knew you would, so fucking sweet.”

“Fuck,” The whimper that comes out of you is pathetic as he lifts your leg, draping your right knee over his shoulder, tongue circling with no mercy. Flicking and sucking and teasing as he changes pace. Your head falls back feeling his piercing tease your entrance with each flick of his perfect tongue. Your fingers laced into his wet curls, tugging as he pulled back, eyes meeting yours. Bringing his left middle and ring fingers to your lips, manually parts them until his fingers push past your bottom teeth. The cold metal of his rings hits your warm mouth. Evergreen dances darkly as they glide across your tongue until you gag around them. He exhales roughly, head cocking, “Mmm, suck. Such a good girl for me, yeah?”

Your lips wrap around his fingers as your eyes lock. He moves them in and out a few times before withdrawing. Never breaking eye contact, pink lips puckering around my clit as his fingers tease your entrance. He watches you intensely, so fucking intensely as his fingers match the pace of his tongue. Your eyes flutter in pure fucking bliss as your grip on his hair returns. Pulling and tugging, making him groan so deeply, “Lil.”

Your name came out of his mouth with the same electricity that courses through your veins whenever he’s around. Hot, entrancing, unfuckingdeniable, and your undoing. White, hot pleasure hits so hard that you try to close your legs but his hands wrap around your thighs, keeping them open, easing you through it. Your breathing evens out as Harry watches you between your open thighs. His head tilted upward, lips parted in amazement, evergreen bouncing around your face like he’s committing every muscle movement to memory.

“For fucks sake.” He exhales, blinking in complete astonishment.

“Hmm?” The word comes out lazily, so fucking easy like your smile.

He hovers, face inches from yours, hazy eyes blazing with lust. The end of his cross necklace bounces off your bottom lip a few times. “So pretty when you cum, Angel.”

Fuck, in one swift movement, you push his chest backward completely straddling him as his back hits the couch. Long, ring-clad fingers grip your jaw as he presses his lips to yours, kissing slowly, tongues tangling lazily. He tastes like you and it makes your head spin. His fingers tangle into your hair, blond waves fall, as he collects them wrapping the strands around his wrist. Breaking the kiss, your hands glide across his skin, feeling every harsh breath and ridge before settling between his legs. Every flutter of his butterfly as he breathes, how his abs constrict with each breath like he wants you so badly that it’s painful, and the vein resting next to the perfect v-line of his left hip. Taking a deep breath, your head tilts, meeting his hungry, beautiful gaze as your lips wrap around his head.

He lets out a loud moan, abs jutting, as your tongue twirls and teases. His head lolls back, lips parting while the moans come out so fucking feral; desperate. The grip on your hair loosens as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks with each suck. Honey curls fall you around like a curtain as he cups the back of your head, pushing you to take him deeper, never breaking eye contact. You almost wanna shut yours seeing how much adoration and attention and lust swims in his pretty irises. He starts moving his hips slowly, testing, and relaxing your jaw. His jaw tightens with each thrust, moaning so fucking loud, lips puckering around a needy exhale, “I-fuck-I’m not gonna last.”

Flattening your tongue, a hum in appreciation and that makes him break. The soft green of his eyes darkened as control slips with each thrust. “God, look at how pretty you look wrapped around my cock.” He groans even louder and you gag around him. His hips slow, “You can take it, just like that, so fucking good.”

Your cheeks hollow as his movements grow more frantic. More fucking desperate. Twirling your tongue, he pulls out, cupping your jaw again as he cums. Painting your chest in the most filthy way. Head tilted back, eyes shut, pumping his cock as he whimpers. Blush spreads up his throat, neck vein popping in the sexiest way, and perfect lips parted in pure ecstasy; pure bliss. He’s the most devastating man you’ve ever seen. The minute your gazes meet, your breathing halts. So many emotions battle to come to the surface as lush forests meet raging oceans. The push and pull that is us. This is a moment where you just stare at each other in understanding. Letting your eyes say what you’re afraid to admit out loud.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” Harry’s voice is gentle and soothing while his fingers trace your jaw before disappearing. You count his footsteps but don’t respond. The weight of what happened crashed into you like a freight train. Your breathing accelerates instead of steading as everything plays out. You don’t want to lose him when this doesn’t work out. The thought comes quickly and like a bucket of ice water. Panic setting in because you can’t lose him. You can’t lose him over one night of weakness. Shit, the uncertainty feels heavy on your chest, heavier than it should because there’s no one you trust more. He’s your best friend.

“Lil?” Hesitantly, your eyes snap to your favorite shade of green. Allowing them to travel his peaceful features, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. Everything about him is relaxed and unguarded as he starts cleaning you up with a warm washcloth. The light stubble on his sharp jaw to pink parted lips to the freckles on the bridge of his nose that you wouldn’t see unless you were close enough. Your fingertips ache to trace the path, feel each little freckle and plane of his face, until they’re touching his pink lips. Sometimes, you wish memories worked like photographs or something so you could accurately remember how being in his arms feels. How finally being his feels until unrelenting reality hits. You’re not his, Grace is, and that hurts worse than you thought. His lips tip into a left-sided smile, “There she is.”

“Here I am,” You smile back, cheekbone gently compressed by his long fingers.

Dark curls sticking up in different directions, evergreen eyes following every detail of your face, a red hue dusting across his cheeks, and his once parted lips tugging into a sleepy smirk, “You still with me, Lil?”

“Always.” The word came out fast because you were with him. Maybe too with him. “Gonna get dressed real quick.” A giggle escapes your lips, “Don’t have the money for Ellie’s therapy bill if she walks in.”

“Fuck,” He chuckles, running a hand through long curls, “She’d probably ask to join.”

Your phone buzzes two times and something inside you freezes. You know it’s Rylan, no one else but him and Harry text you this late. The playful expression on Harry’s face slowly drains into something that resembles pain as he hands it to me. The sudden change makes your stomach turn in the worst way.

From: Ry (2:30 am)

Sorry about tonight.

From: Ry (2:31 am)

Can’t lose you over a stupid argument, Lil. I know you and Styles are just friends and you wouldn’t touch him. Sorry for being a jealous prick.

That stomach-sinking guilt comes back full force and causes your mouth to flood with saliva. You pull the Nirvana shirt over your head and turn to explain but he’s already looking at the wall. His jaw tense, so tense that the hinges are bulging, but expression is stoic. He swallows, the columns in his throat tense then relax showing just how hard the salvia was to get down. You linger on his side profile for a second, appreciating the beautiful yet masculine planes of his face, before clearing your throat. He blinks a few times before turning slowly to meet your eyes. The words rush out of your mouth, “Harry-”

Playful evergreen darkened to forest green, “I better go.”

You jump to your feet, following behind him quickly, desperate to explain. His back to you, broad shoulders sagging, as he works to unlatch your window. The glass opens with a thud and you expect him to leave but he doesn’t. Ring-clad fingers grasp the ledge, knuckles blanch, as he just breathes. You count to fifteen waiting for him to look at you but he doesn’t. 240 long, excruciating seconds pass. Exhaling harshly, his voice is hoarse, “We need to tal-“

“Friends?” You blurt, not letting him finish. Needing to know you’re okay, eyes volleying between him and the notification on your phone.

He pauses, hand resting on the windowsill, so much pain in those evergreen eyes you love so much. There he was, always taking care of you. Even if it means hurting him.

“Yeah, Lil.”

Your attention stays on the window as he slips out without giving you a chance to respond. Everything smells like him, a mouthwatering mixture of fresh laundry, peppermint, and something earthy like the wind. Even your skin has traces of him that you don’t think you’d be able to wash off. The memory of tonight permanently embedded into you and there is no denying it. How his mouth felt, his hands on you, the sound of his raspy voice slowly ruining you for anyone else.

What the fuck did you just do?

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rosey-tta · 7 months

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is it a controversial topic to say that making the reader's appearance overly detailed, giving them a title and a overly detailed backstory (mary sue backstory often), focusing more on their pov which reveals their personality heavily that some readers would NOT relate too, not making it poc friendly, saying it's gn but using personal pronouns and characters calling them gender specific nicknames (princess/ baby girl...etc), is it controversial to say you didn't write an x reader fanfic but an x OC and you're tricking us to read it?? lmfao i think people have the right to be mad ESPECIALLY if it's not gn or poc friendly when you claimed it was... like i love writers and i appreciate the works ALL of you are putting yall are awesome for giving us this fanfics but PLEASE BFR

if your (y/n) is someone the reader can't relate to it's not x reader. simple as that. idk why ppl are scared of saying this.

PS; i deleted a stupid reply that got mad at x black!reader for being exclusively for black people when black/poc friendly fanfics are already a minority when the harmful majority is very european centered (white people specifically) and even very anti black in some cases. don't twist my post to be fucking racist/sexist/homophobic/fatphobic or ableist because that's not what i'm talking about at all ffs. to the poc and other minority creators who are writing for their people and for unconventional, non-white beauty standards i love you, you're amazing and a straight up war veteran in some of these fandom, geez. (this is for context if anyone looks at the replies. and to tell yall to be decent human being cuz some of you are bold ASF.)

PS 2; i didn't want to address this but, some people pointed out that writing ambiguos x reader is impossible and hard. that's not the case at all, look at the most popular fanfics in a fandom x reader. they ARE ambiguous and general stuff! such as jealousy headcanons, general dating headcanons, prompts, general kinks or the like.... why? because you didn't give the reader too many details or made them mfing black widow or madoka kaname, who'll be relating to that???? you might say "oh i'm writing for myself" or "this is my self-insert don't like it don't read" cool, we all have self-inserts. stop tagging it as x reader however. that's it. tags exist for a reason, and you not using it properly is your problem not the readers who have been misled.

Ps 3 PLEASE READ: ❗❗❗

I read what other people opposing this post said and I absolutely get how difficult it is to write for ambiguous readers. I'm deeply sorry for making it seem as though I'm berating writers when I don't share my work here on tumblr. My post was NOT meant to insult creative writing OR to say that putting the slightest bit of detail on your headcanons, fanfics, scenarios etc is a terrible thing because I assure you it's NOT. But please for the love of god tag your work correctly. THAT'S IT. And give warnings and heads ups about what your writing contains. If it has fem!reader only tag it as fem!reader, if there's mention of physical characteristics specific to one race others or group may not relate to PLEASE give a warning. I know the content here on tumblr is free and I like many here are SUPER grateful for it.

I don't appreciate entitled readers and ik how frustrating it is to get backlash from something that you do for free and it brings you immense joy, but please remember your work is also public and by that it WILL be subjected to criticism and feedback however it may be. And of course I'd never support harrassment or rudeness on any party giving or receiving feedbacks.

Remember that tags and warnings exist for a reason and you're free to write WHATEVER as long as you publicize it keeping in mind the target audience you're reaching. Of course people will not be happy if you state your work is something that ultimately isn't. But imo if you give a prior information then no one should harrass or demand of you anything. This post was made to address the lack of honestly with certain content, the non-poc friendly fanfics and MY PERSONAL OPINIONS. You're free to agree and you're free to disagree.

I read the replies and tags and I understand both sides of the argument, but I also needed to clarify what this post is NOT about. Of course any harrassment or rude comments will be ignored. You're free to have your opinions and preferences and free to say them as long as it isn't problematic.

I also removed the x reader because I understand how it would be hypocritical of me but I truly needed to get people's opinions on a wider scale. Again I apologize if I offended everyone and if I came off as rude or entitled i promise you that's not the case, And you can't even say I think the fanfics should be centered around me since most with the unconventional beauty standards and personality within them do not match me in any way and that's okay 💁‍♀️

#genshin impact #honkai star rail #csm #jjk #fandoms #fandom: discourse #fandom discourse #(y/n)#hopefully i covered everything regarding my take and the feedback i received.#also sorry but i won't allow anon messages since i already got soms nasty ones and I'm not bothering to argue with someone-#that either was crude or gave threats #if you misinterpret my post as something as me restricting writers or being entitled it's on you and your reading comprehension

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pupcuck · 3 months

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SCHADENFREUDE !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. p in v, kidnapper/victim relationship, stockholm syndrome, he puts u in the trunk of his car :3, sorta painal, squirting, slapping/hitting a lot.. of it, not non-con or dub-con but he keeps calling it that idk, painful sex, suicide mention cuz it’s leonnnn, sadism

note. haiii a follow up to rotten luck title has nothing to do w the fic i think :3 his character changes like every 5 mins im sorry .. readers character changed a lot too omg just blame it on stockholm! umm sorry for any mistakes please ignore them :3 rbs and feedback so appreciated :3

rotten luck

tumblr removes fics that use, for example, tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

“What’re you doing?” With a foot in the door, Leon spots you hunched over the mantlepiece.

You jump like you do when he makes a noise over thirty decibels. Luckily, you’re housebroken now, just about, so there’s no piss. Or tears. He has no desire to deal with tears. Or piss or any fluid for that matter. Leon has bad days, and then he has worse days, then there are awful days– It’s only a bad day, but that doesn’t mean he wants to spend his time forcing your head into a puddle of your own piss. Fundamentally, piss is not his concern, he’s potty-trained and has been for a good thirty-four years. He’d like to think a good forty-three years, but he was a criminal bedwetter up until the ripe age of twelve. Foster system does that to you. You make the piss Leon’s concern when you do it on his floor–

“What’re you doing?” Leon asks once more when he wrenches himself away from his piss tangent. He decides to let you off for not answering the first time ‘cause he’s generous like that. Quietly, as everything you do is scarce and ghostlike, you point at the printed photos on his mantle with great interest. There’s three because Leon only really gives a shit about three people. They shouldn’t be out in the open like that. Leon doesn’t remember leaving them out, so he’d like to blame you, but maybe this is a sign of early-onset dementia.

“Who’s she?” You nod to Ashley first, pressed to his side so tightly, so lovingly, so sure that he loves her bombardment. Her affection, whatever it is that she insists it is. He thinks back to tearing her from the clutches of emaciated beings and wonders how he can stand here so normally. As if nothing ever happened. Ashley’s name is the one in the back of his throat, shattered and bloody like glass in a domestic dispute. Then again, he is face to face with his kidnapping victim and all. So it’s not very normal when he looks at the bigger picture. Far from normal, abnormal at the very least. Fucking deranged might be the right term.

“My ex,” Leon lies to see the look of disdain that crosses your face, the unpleasant curl of your lips that irons out when he pets your head. Whether it be for him or Ashley, he wouldn’t like to know. “Joking, baby, I saved her,” Leon settles on saved because there is no other way to explain it, and because he would love for you to know that they’re not his other kidnapping victims and that you’re his one and only kidnappee and he might be impulsive, but he’s not stupid enough to take pictures of and with kidnapped girls. Well, Ashley was a kidnapped girl, not his kidnapped girl, however.

Leon is very feminist, rescuing slender-ankled maidens is his speciality, you’re just an outlier. “I saved her,” he says when you nod at Manuela next, and then for Sherry, he pauses, “I saved her.” Sherry’s face goads him into cowardice, blowing his brains out is difficult when she’s sitting on his shoulder at all times like a Vatican cherub, covalently bonded to his heart or his soul. Whichever matters after you die. “You want a picture too, baby? Autograph?” He kisses your kidnapped little fingers with the guilt of a man who has been pointlessly guilty all his life - now literally guilty by CJS standards for the four months you’ve been captive.

You smile at him, and consequently his drops. “I’m good,” you say, smiling your real smile. It upsets him. “I’ve got the real thing.” When you talk too much he remembers that you’re not a toy or a plaything or anything of the sort. That you’re a real girl.

Sometimes Leon has these moments of startling clarity. You kidnapped a girl ‘cause mommy didn’t love you enough, but daddy hit you hard enough to knock the functioning parts of your brain out of place. You kidnapped a girl ‘cause you got touched back in boot camp, ‘cause you’ve seen a couple hundred people die.

At this point, he simply can’t move on, but he can give up. Every night the gun under his pillow digs into the hollows of his skull. It’s just that Leon can’t leave you, his lucky little girl, he feels responsible for the state you’re in. Stockholm and all. That wasn’t his intention, he’d rather you be dead out of sheer terror, your frail little heart would give out mid Leon’s fucked up chimaera that is part nasty, hot sex and part brutal beating and the most he would have to do is bury your bones in his backyard.

Pretend you never existed. Your name fades into obscurity like every other name does. Your face is just another face. And no one truly cares in the end. America’s love is limited, its affections will go elsewhere, to a prettier kidnapped girl in California or a younger one in Maine. The police will pass you off as a runaway soon enough, and no one would ever have to mourn a bodiless casket. What a mess. Leon didn’t mean to be so charming, didn’t mean to make you fall for him, he didn’t know girls these days were so into getting raped on the daily. Now he’s facing the repercussions of his sex appeal. God forbid he exists in sexy peace.

You gotta make everything his problem, don’t you? Lucky little thing. Leon wonders if you’ve ever had to do anything for yourself. Wonders, ponders, thinks, but he won’t pry. ‘Cause it makes him feel, like, really fucking sucky. That he plucked you out of your perfect little life ‘cause his life is the shittiest little life in this piece of shit world.

He struggles to even utter your name– Your name, god, he bets it was picked out so delicately, so carefully– And that pisses Leon off ‘cause his dad named Leon after his favourite hooker, remove the A from Leona and there you have it! Italian enough for his ma too, hit a perfect sweet spot. Now he’s upset, the perennial guilt has wilted and he’s just fucking exasperated by you. By your luck. By your shamelessness. What twisted little bitch sits there and gloats about having the real thing in reference to her kidnapper. In actuality, it’s Leon that has the real thing.

Leon knocks you down like you’re made of styrofoam. That little yelp never gets old. You see, he’s been struck by this awful migraine and he wants you to feel the same. You should ache like he does, but you don’t ‘cause you’re young and healthy and he makes you go to bed at an appropriate time ‘cause it’s his duty as your kidnapper to make sure you don’t die out of neglect - death via beating is fine and understandable.

You sit at his feet so sweetly, a stray dog that’s wandered into the shrine of a lonely god, curling up at the foot of a wooden statuette to seek some form of solace. Unfortunately for you, Leon is no god, just a normal man with a heart and a soul and a dick that thinks for itself. He does what any man with a dumb dick would do - grabs you by the ankle and lugs you towards the bedroom like a deer carcass. It’s slightly comical, and he knows that ‘cause he hears you giggle a little.

“Rape is nothin’ to laugh about, sweetheart,” Leon says ‘cause that’s the plan, he drops you down on the bed with a thunk. Is it even rape when the other party, a very much kidnapped party, is enjoying it? Truly, you suck the joy out of his life.

“Sorry, Leon,” you go slack and stupid the second he gropes your tit, he’s not one for foreplay, it bores him most days. He’ll eat your pussy ‘cause he likes the taste, but he’s old and his cock is on its last legs and the moment his shit jumps to life it’s best to get it in ASAP.

“It’s okay, baby,” Leon lifts the hem of your shirt, “I know you’re really fuckin’ stupid, so don’t worry ‘bout it, yeah?” God, he’s way too nice. He pulls the shirt over your head and you’re left bare.

“Thank you, Leon,” You’re well-mannered, he’ll give you that, polite little thing, it's terribly endearing, has the walls of his gristly heart caving in.

“You’re very welcome, baby,” he hums, unzipping his jeans to get his dick out before it ultimately droops. Your cunt is sopping, takes to his fingers easily, he curls them upwards to hear those slick clicks. “Spread ‘em.” Leon taps your thigh, and you bend your knees outwards, a foot flat on the bed. It’s nice that you’re wet for him and all, does wonders for his ego, but loose holes are no fun.

“Not there,” you’re so cute when you whine, would look so cute stuffed in the trunk of his car, god. He’d even put a pillow between your thighs to give that cunt some friction. Keep you entertained while he drives aimlessly.

“Baby, you should know better,” Leon chides, spreads your ass and eyes up your tighter hole. “Didn’t ask you, did I?”

“Nuh-uh, Leon.” Comes your automated response.

“What did I tell you?”

“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” you relay the words like you’re reading from a rulebook.

Creepy. Makes him shudder. Maybe Leon did Stockholm you purposefully, he didn’t expect you to respond so well, he was just saying shit. Like, shit that comes out of his mouth when he’s horny, and your sick little brain took his word as law. So, like, that’s your fault and you’re making it his problem. ‘Cause everyone loves to make everything Leon’s problem.

“God, you’re such a clever girl, baby,” he coos because he is so kind and gracious, giving out praise left and right. The tip of Leon’s cock is sticky, drags it through the seam of your cunt to part your folds, kisses your clit with the fat head. There’s a slight gape to your puckered hole when he grabs your ass cheek to open you up. Leon’s forced his way in countless times before, it’s no different this time. With a cock lubed by precum and your drippy cunt, he pushes into your asshole mercilessly.

“That’s a cute face, sweetheart, you gonna do that for me again?” Leon asks, taking a handful of tit as he admires the pain washing over your face— The divot between your brows that he smooths over with his thumb, a quivering bottom lip, eyes screwed shut ‘cause you’re trying to take his fat cock like a good girl should. You make it so easy to hurt you.

“Leon,” you whimper when he bottoms out. His cock kicks inside you, he pulls out to be mean, carves out space and your hole flutters ‘cause it’s so empty— Leon forces his way back in, till the ring of muscle swallows up the base of his cock, and his balls smack wetly against the fat of your ass. Two fingers find their way into your sloppy pussy once more, he feels the ridges of his cock through the spongy, thin walls of your cunt, and you’re liking it too much, fucking him back far too enthusiastically when his thumb presses down on your pulsing clit.

“You’re gonna cum like this, sweetheart,” Leon tells you matter-of-factly, removes his fingers with a pop! and wipes the milky cream dribbling down his wrist on your tummy. “Can you do that for me?”

“No, Leon, I can’t,” you shake your head, trembling fingers wrapping around his wrist to guide him back to your puffy clit.

“Yes you can, baby, you’re gonna do it for me aren’t you?” He tuts, breaking free from your sorry excuse of a grip to lay a firm smack on your jaw. It sends your head to the right, hears your neck crack, he’s sure. “We don’t use words like ‘no’ do we?”

“No…”

Aw, that was a trick question— He gives you another smack to force your head to the left. A little brain damage goes a long way. Keeps you obedient. When you get over the dizziness and face him head-on, you try to blink away the tears to no avail, they roll down your cheeks in pearlescent blobs. Clicker training is unneeded when you have a firm hand. It’s worked so well, any mention of your life outside of the time spent in his home and he’s punching your lights out, now you talk to Leon about Leon, and you think of Leon, and you fuck Leon and you love him– Jesus, okay, he did Stockholm you real fucking bad. No wonder you’re so weird.

Leon rabbits into you, short and shallow thrusts ‘cause it’s harder for you to breathe that way with his cock constantly pushing and jabbing and— Fuck, he’s practically reshaping your insides at such a brutal pace.

“I knew you could do it,” Leon snickers, presses hard on your abdomen to help you cum— And you’re so cute when you do, writhing and lifting your hips up and just looking a little stupid. There’s a stuttered breath, then you’re squirting in sharp bursts, from his cock in your ass alone. “There we go— You did it, baby, did so well—“ He is so fucking sweet to you, talking you through your high and shit. “You love getting your ass fucked don’t you?”

When you don’t respond, too busy trying to recover from an orgasm that’s left you boneless, Leon knocks some sense into you. “I do,” you gasp, teeth clattering like they always do when he hits you. “I do, Leon, I do, I love it— Love you.”

Holy shit. He hates it. That’s what drives him over the edge, that’s what makes him fuck his load into your ass till it’s dripping back down his shaft, that’s what gets his legs all shaky? It sickens him.

“Do you love me, Leon? I love you so much, Leon,” you mumble to him feverishly when he dips low to rest his forehead on yours, a hand on your cheek.

“You’re growing on me, baby,” Leon says, kissing the spot on your cheek he hit less than a minute ago. “Go clean yourself up.” He checks his watch while you limp off to the en-suite. “I’m headin’ out soon.”

“What?” You poke your head past the door frame, genuinely distraught at this revelation. “But you just got home, Leon, I was so bored— Can I come with you?”

“Are you dumb, baby?” Leon blinks at you, and he knows the answer is yes already.

“I’ll just miss you, like, lots ‘n lots.” You’re padding towards him, seating yourself on his lap. He puts his hands on your hips to draw you in, you breathe in his scent. It can’t be pleasant, but you get something out of it. “I want to come with you, please. I won’t run away, Leon, I like it with you.”

“I know you won’t run away,” he hums, squeezing your hips. “What would you do without me? You’d just miss me, baby.”

“And I’m gonna miss you when you go now, Leon.” Your arms loop around his neck. This is fucking disgusting. You’re not his girlfriend, but his literal kidnapping victim and he’s all loved up, letting you stroke his hair and kiss his neck— Fuck, he hates it, hates that he likes you so damn much.

It’s not like he could get away with it. Claire’s got, like, a database in her head for all the fucking women in the world. One look at your face and she’ll know. And how the fuck are you meant to play that off? Bringing a missing girl as your date for the night.

“You can come with me,” he agrees, just not in the girlfriend way, but in the appropriate kidnapped girl way. With a gag in your mouth and your hands behind your back, tucked into his trunk like a cute, fleshy suitcase.

Zip ties are best, rope comes second, and Leon’s tie is probably not on the list of best kidnapping tools. He just wasn’t prepared to take you with him. He’s fairly new to the whole kidnapper thing, it’s quite exhausting.

The sun sets early these days, and it’s not like Leon lives in a crowded area. Only sign of life on the street is him. And you. Panties stuffed in your mouth as a makeshift gag, wrists tied together with the tie Hunnigan got him for Christmas. You could spit the panties out at any minute, but you don’t. You could break free from the shitty knot he’s tied, but you don’t. Leon must be good at this manipulation thing ‘cause you’re so damn docile, letting him lay you down like a corpse, move you around like one.

“All good?” Leon asks, tilts his head to the side as you stare up at him with glassy eyes. Not all good. You’re terrified. He can tell. You still nod though. “Good.” He kisses your head, then shuts you in.

Leon is already a bit of a nervous driver. His windows are blacked out at least. He always feels like he’s doing something wrong. Like there’s drugs planted in his glove compartment, or he’s got blood money on the backseat, or a cute girl in the trunk— Which he does, but he doesn’t usually have a cute girl tied up in the trunk. He usually does get a ticket or two though, able to charm his way out of it, flash his ID.

There isn't a single noise from you, not even a thump, and it worries him. Leon considers pulling over, but he drives on white-knuckled and shaky. Hopes you haven’t rolled out without him noticing. Been flattened by a truck. Jesus Christ, he thought something about this would be gratifying, but his nerves have spiked and unlocked a new level of anxiety. He should hand himself in right now– Obviously, he doesn’t do that, and he parks up outside Claire’s apartment instead, and he is going to check on you, he is, he was–

“Oh, hey you!” Sherry takes him by surprise, her hand is small in his, but it’s calloused. Doesn’t feel like it did when he held it the first time. Even smaller and bloodied. When she smiles at him, soft wrinkles form. “You’re on time,” she comments, and he wants to die because there is a girl in his trunk.

“Right on, kiddo!” He says to Sherry who is thirty-seven and married. Leon would like to think he does well in high-pressure situations, he does do well in high-pressure situations. That’s a fact. He’s great in end-of-the-world-type scenarios, great at saving America from impending doom, he could do it with his eyes closed– Facing the closest thing you have to family not as yourself, but as a creepy, old rapist is insanely difficult and he would prefer to never do it again. However, he is exactly that, plus a kidnapper, so Leon will continue to do it for the rest of his days.

“Are you okay, Leon?” The corners of her lips are downturned– She knows, oh god, she knows, and she’s never going to look at you the same, and she’ll hate you for the rest of her life– “You’re not sick, are you? I heard there was a bug going around, Jake got sick today that’s why he couldn’t come.” Fuck Jake. Leon dislikes him. Her hair is longer, long enough to fall over her shoulders. He’d tell her to cut it, in their line of work it’s a risk, but she looks how she used to look, and Leon can’t say anything to her.

“No, I’m just, I’m cold, it’s cold, right? It’s cold out here, let’s go inside– Claire’s waiting,” he says very smoothly, totally without a single fumble.

“What is up with you?” Claire scans his guilty face when she opens the door, scans it like a robot, not like an observant human. She steps aside to let Sherry in, kissing the shorter girl’s cheek, and then she blocks Leon from entering. “My pipes are bust, Leon.”

“Okay? Can’t help you with that, babe.” Leon is not a fucking plumber. Doesn’t look like one in the slightest. He’s handsome like a washed-up actor, he knows that much is true, does not fit the bill for a plumber.

“You look like you need to shit really bad.”

“God, I don’t, I’m just fuckin’ cold.” Leon shows her his shaky hands as proof. It’s not proof ‘cause these are kidnapper shakes.

Claire stares at him. Ineffable. Unflappable. She scares the shit out of him, might really end up on her busted toilet if she scrutinises him to this degree all night. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good, I’m great– I’m cold, I’m fine,” he says normally because he is a normal man with a heart and soul and dick and balls and credit. All the shit normal guys have. And a girl in the trunk, he’s got that too. The cast-iron doubt in Claire’s eyes has Leon on edge for the rest of the night. It never dissipates. Or she’s just looked that way her whole life and Leon’s overthinking it.

“Nah, Leon hates those, don’t you?” Sherry nudges his shoulder.

“Huh?” Leon says intelligently, he’s painfully aware of his blundering efforts at socialising. Painfully aware of you. In his trunk. Cold, scared, and wet ‘cause you’re fucked up. He hates a lot of things like assless chaps and seven-eleven beer and swans. He drinks seven-eleven beer anyway. Does not wear assless chaps though. And he’d prefer to keep it that way. Swans piss him off ‘cause they're beautiful and violent and beautiful things should be passive like you are. Beautiful things were put on this earth to be gawked at. Beautiful things belong tied up in his car.

“Parrots,” she smiles at him again and he’s hit by a wave of nausea.

“What about ‘em?”

“Me and Jake want to get a pet, I’ve always wanted a parrot, you promised to get me one when I was a kid,” Sherry says, it’s not even to guilt trip him, just factual, but Leon feels like the shittiest guy alive, he’s very good at feeling bad.

“I do hate them,” Leon confirms, “They talk too much.” Pets are pets. They roll over, show off their bellies, wag their tails, they shouldn't speak.

“That’s what I like about them!”

Leon gets a headache when you speak for even a minute, that’s why he couldn't deal with a parrot. Or any pet other than his lucky girl ‘cause at least she’s smart enough to know when to shut up.

“It’s not like they talk a lot.” Claire fills her wine glass for the nth time. “They speak when spoken too,” she says while blinking at Leon so directly he thinks she might’ve put cameras in his house to see if he’s being as feminist as he claims he is. “And you can teach them names, I think it’s cute.”

“We took care of a puppy last year, a friend’s one, but Jake doesn’t like dogs at all. Poor thing, she got car sick when we took her out, she was in the back on her own, and she must’ve been so scared-”

A dog in the back of a car all on her own. God, doesn’t that sound familiar? Did you get car sick? Should he have checked up on you? Fuck, you might’ve choked to death on your own car sickness by now. The clock ticks and Leon checks his watch about ten times within five minutes. He can’t leave first. He never leaves first– Oh, fuck, but what if you’re fucking dead? He prays you aren’t. He would appreciate it if you were alive.

“I don’t… I don’t feel great,” Leon says not convincingly when he stands up, then he bends to kiss Sherry on the head. “I love you, sweetheart, we’ll catch up next time, alright?” And he doesn’t give either of them a chance to respond properly. Collecting his keys from the table, his jacket, his gun.

Leon, don’t you want to finish– Leon, you’re leaving– Call me when you get back– I’ll miss you, Leon– Text me back– Should you be driving–

He would love to reassure Sherry, tell her that he’ll miss her so much he could die and that he promises to text Claire back on time, and that he’s perfectly capable when it comes to drunk driving. but he’s pretty sure he’s got a missing dead girl in his trunk. Leon wonders if they can see him clearly from Claire’s fifth-story window. They don’t care about what he’s doing, but the probability that they might be able to see what he’s doing, acting all shady, is scary. The street lights flicker, and when he opens the hatch, he’s bathed in the glow of your halo. Hail fucking Mary and Joseph and Jesus. You’re there, eyes frantic, and very alive, panties still stuffed in your mouth. Could’ve spat those out by now, but you’re a good girl.

“Fuck,” Leon sighs, he smiles like he loves you. “Hi, baby, did you have fun?” He hunches over to get a better look at you, you’re in the position he left you in, on your side, balled up, almost foetal. He slaps your tit, pinches your cheek, pokes your ass like he’s giving you a physical. You shake your head. “No?” Leon pouts at you, then he leaves you in the dark by slamming the lid. The thrill has sorta settled in, or he’s just tipsy, ‘cause he’s giddy about it, about having you back there. Highways are fairly empty at this time, and so now that he’s boosted by you not being dead and cognac, Leon parks up on the side of the road. Opens up his trunk, again, it’s the most he’s ever used it, shit is gonna fall off its hinges.

“You saved me,” you say when he takes your spit-soaked panties out of your mouth. “You found me, sir, I was so scared, I-I thought I was going to die in here.”

Leon’s confused for a second, then he gets it. You’re roleplaying as… as a kidnapping victim. Which you already are. So it’s like the Droste effect, or holarchy, or more simply a thing within a thing. You’re letting him take on the hero part, which he’s most familiar with, he’s good at being the good guy, that’s why Leon is a pretty crummy kidnapper. “I saved you,” Leon says flatly, he goes with it. “You should suck my dick to say thank you.” He didn’t mean to say that so soon, he was gonna play along for longer, but you made him really fucking hard just then. Teary-eyed, snotty, looking so cute and sweetly kidnapped.

Waiting for your response isn’t his style. Leon had his dick out before you even spoke, he was planning on just stuffing it in your mouth, but you went and made up a little story in your head to get him even harder. He shuffles forward, wipes the tip on your lips, slaps it on your cheek.

“C’mon, open up, baby.” You nose at the underside of his cock, then take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and giving it to him so well, how he likes it, choking once you get to the balls. Leon places a hand on the back of your head, forces you still as he pounds your throat, hearing you gag and heave brings him comfort, ‘cause you're struggling and he loves to make you struggle, loves to make you work for it. You've had it too easy, and now you’ve started liking the sex (read: rape), so Leon’s glad he can hurt you without you getting off on it. “Okay, okay, that’s enough, baby, you can stop that now,” Leon says like he wasn’t skullfucking you into a coma, his cock slips past your lips, strings of saliva beading your chin, your neck, your tits.

The trunk is kinda small, when he puts you on your front, your head rests on the backseats, and your legs dangle over the edge. “Can you untie me, sir?” You ask in a scratchy voice, throat shredded.

Leon ignores you. He’s busy scoffing at how fucking soaked you are, misses the days he had to spit on your cunt to get it wet, when he felt all big like his cock was imposing ‘cause you were so dry he had to force his way in, and you would scream so loud it sliced his skin, and he would groan for that contrapuntal effect ‘cause hurting you is the best thing he’s ever felt. Better than opioids, better than regular sex, better than a scalp massage, better than anything that feels mildly great.

Your cunt swallows his shaft too well, and it is hot to know you’re so far gone now, but would it kill your pussy to show some form of resistance? He knocks his hips forward so hard the car jolts, thrusts all his weight into you, so his cock is doing nothing but harm, breaking your cunt in, going past your cervix, womb-fucking and all that good shit. It doesn’t get further than your cervix for obvious reasons.

‘Cause his dick is not a knife, it’s a dick and it twitches when you clench. He likes having a dick, he likes to fuck with it, likes to stick it in places it shouldn’t be, likes to disfigure and wreck and ruin with it - fly in the ointment is that it’s not immune to stupid, sloppy holes that beg for it. Leon shudders, keeps himself buried to the hilt, rolls his hips forward so the tip jabs the fleshy, firm opening of your cervix in painful grinds.

“Leon,” you wheeze, twisting like you’re getting exorcised, “Leon— Leon, it hurts—“

“I know, baby,” Leon pats your ass, giving a sharp thrust forward to make you sob. “Keep talkin’ to me like that, turns me on.”

“Hurts so bad, hurts, Leon, ‘s gonna– ‘s gonna kill me, Leon– Don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die, please–”

“Shit,” he laughs breathlessly. That was hot. Girls begging for their lives ‘cause his dick is too good. When you turn to glance at him over your shoulder, his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby– You look fucked.” Like you’re terrified of him. That's how it should be. “Don’t go pushin’ me out,” Leon grunts, words punctuated by strokes that have you reeling in all the worst ways.

“I can’t–” Your head bumps the seats when Leon knocks you in the back of the head. Hard enough to stun you into silence.

“Can’t run from it, can you?” Leon bites down on your shoulder, momentary relief from the cruel drag of his cock inside your sticky cunt, now you can focus on his teeth. How he might tear into you. Eat you up. “Gotta take it for me, baby, ‘cause that’s what you're good for. No brains just got a stupid little cunt.” When he cums, you arch into him, and he fucks into you with all he’s got, till you’re stuffed full of his seed. Something to keep your belly warm for the ride home. Leon should get an award for being this considerate.

“Leon, can I sit in the front?” you sniffle, pathetic and floppy and orgasmless.

He sneers at you. “Do you want me to get caught, sweetheart? You wanna get taken away from me?”

“No, Leon…”

Click!

That was cathartic. Leon’s glad you’ve still got pain receptors, you’re not totally gone, clinging on for dear life, but still afloat. He carries his little body bag to the door. “Want a photo?” Leon sets you down on the ground, you cling to the back of his shirt as he struggles with his jammy lock.

“Oh, yeah!” You light up, “‘Cause you saved me!”

“Yeah, baby.” Leon ushers you inside. “I saved you.” From the boot of his own fucking car.

#leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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byooregard · 15 days

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x men tumblr dashboard simulator

bluebabadee

THIS BLOG IS A SAFE SPACE FOR NON-HUMAN PASSING MUTANTS. HUMAN PASSING MUTANTS DNI

10 notes 📌Pinned Post

sparklejays Follow

based on your likes!

every time I see a human talking about "how cool it would be to have superpowers" or some shit like that I loose it a little bit more. do these people realize that being a mutant isn't just fun powers. like even beyond the shit I deal with trying to get jobs or all the relationships that have been ruined once people realized I'm a mutant. abilities aren't just fun and games, I have a friend who can't touch people without nearly killing them, I burned down three buildings before someone finally taught me to control my abilities, and these people are all like "wouldn't it be great to fly to work every day??" just admit that you see us as comic book characters and not real people with real struggles

#actually mutant #jay .txt

276 notes

scamperpamperblog reblogged spocktism

🏙️tilleys-brain Follow

self diagnosing is great and all but most of you people aren't telepaths, you're just hyperempathic

#actually mutant #actually telepathic #hyperempathy #crosstagging i know but some of yall need to see this #tilley speaks #it can be dangerous to go around acting like you know peopels actual thoughts when its just your brain

1,657 notes

oh-you-pretty-things

#vent post #sometimes I get really mad at magneto #like I think he's done a lot for mutant rights and stuff #but I'm so fucking tired of everyone assuming that I'm evil just because of my powers #like jesus not all of us are trying to start atomic wars #some metallokinetics just use their abilities to make cool sculptures #but I can't get a spoon from across the room in front of strangers without someone mentioning jfk

3 notes

mutantbuffy reblogged muntantpollscentral

🩻mutantpollscentral

*physical mutation meaning something that is ALWAYS physical, not just something you can turn off and on whenever

#ig my mutation IS technically physical its just not visible to people most of the time so i feel weird claiming that #but like i was born with the tattoo marks #the powers didnt come till later tho #so idk which to pick

668 notes

sploimsh reblogged jesterjuleses

🎹pussy-truck-faggot

HEY! shout-out to people with *weird* mutations. Mutations that don't look cool, mutations that are gross, mutations that are dirty, mutations that you can't tell people about because they always cringe. You're just as valid as every other mutant out there. Your powers don't need to be palettable to humans for you to be treated with respect.

#THIS!!! #rb

5,678 notes

rosetvler

god i am so tired of the hypocrisy in this community. the double standards are insane. its okay to have 'scary' powers but the moment someone's abilities are scarier than like, pyrokinesis you're evil and dangerous to be around. 'acceptance' for you people only means nice mutants who've never hurt or scared anyone ever.

rosetvler reblogged rosetvler

non-mutants can reblog this btw

#srb #actually mutant #getting real tired of this

18 notes

katiedidnt reblogged morelikesexmen

🩻magicsteele27 Follow

okay like. i get that were all about acceptance and pride or w/e but no one in this tag has ever had friends irl i swear. if someone asks you not to read their mind you shouldnt. honestly you shouldnt be using telepathy on people at all without their permission. mutant abilities dont disclude you from respecting peoples boundaries

🌌rosetvler Mutuals

i swear to god you people are such hypocrites. its all 'mutant and proud' until someone has a power you dont like. its always about keeping the humans feeling comfortable instead of thinking about how it feels to never use your powers because theyre breaking 'boundaries' that were made up by humans in the first place

🩻magicsteele27 Follow

dude do you hear yourself right now

🎆jade-the-pyromancer Follow

Hey, I like your point op, but maybe you should stop trying to speak over actual telepaths and let them decide how to use their powers themselves???

🩻magicsteele27 Follow

i. i am a telepath.

#duddeeee telepaths are insane #used to be friends with one SO glad i broke that off before it went too bad

15,678 notes

#x men #cleb talky #marvel comics #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #x men movies #x men comics #i dont know what to tag this #i have more of these in my brain

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deliciousbasementtrash · 7 months

Text

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. On your way home from work, you encounter an injured superhero. You have seen his secret identity. Now what will he do about it?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, verbal abuse, parental abuse, severe injuries

Word Count: 1.5k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part One: Is that Trash or a Man?

There is calm chaos when working in the emergency room. You get used to the cacophony of beeps and alarms. Of moans, crying, screaming, and arguing. You get used to being on your feet all day and moving from task to task, from patient to patient. You get used to it because there is no other option. People need care and they need it now. You either step the fuck up or switch to a different unit. Or move to a calmer, cleaner, less crime-filled city. Calm wasn’t really my vibe. Maybe externally that’s what I portrayed, but internally my mind craves the chaos of the ER. It craves the chaos of Gotham. And the Gotham ER was an entirely different beast.

I finished nursing school about a year ago. A lot of my peers used it as an out. They went to more stable cities in New Jersey that had better funding and less chance of getting knifed in the staff parking lot. I was one of the only ones that stayed. I definitely was the only one that worked in the hospital. I couldn’t deny the demand for nurses was high, and the paychecks were even higher at Gotham General Hospital. And maybe some small pathetic part of my brain wanted to make the world a better place. I wanted Gotham to be a better place. Every day I worked. I convinced myself that how matter how shitty it got; I was making a difference. Even if it was only a handful of people in the grand scheme of things.

I could convince myself that I mattered. That everyone mattered. That these people deserve more. They deserve better; they deserve a second, third, fourth, fifth chance. If I stopped trying to convince myself of that I know I would give up entirely. Seeing gunshot wounds, stabbings, overdoses, mutilations, burns, crushings, poisonings, beatings, day after day is a lot like erosion of the soul. Little by little it wears you down. You become jaded and jagged with time. Empathy becomes blame. Hope becomes desolate. Love becomes anger. The only thing you can do is gaslight yourself into thinking you’re making a big enough difference. That you’re helping enough people. After all, the brain can’t tell the difference between truth and irony. You tell yourself so many lies, you can start to believe them, right?

Gotham City: 16 Years Ago

“Dad, when is mom coming home?” My small voice asked. I was scared to make Dad yell at me again. I didn’t like it when I made him yell.

“She’s got stage four fucking cancer she is coming out of the hospital in a body bag, y/n.”

I fought the tears that burned behind my eyes. Dad would get even angrier if he saw them. It was stupid of me to even ask.

I felt him turn to me. His eyes bored into my skull. Quickly, I looked down at his feet.

“Have you tried again?” He asked. His tone clipped. I knew he expected a timely answer.

Involuntarily, my fingers ruthlessly picked the skin around my nails. The sting was grounding in a way.

“No, sir. Well yes, I have tried, but I… I failed,” the last word felt like a hot poker being placed through my throat.

“Look at me.” Breathing became difficult, but I looked up at my father. He leaned his face close to mine. I could smell Jack wafting off him. “What good are you? What good is having healing powers if you can’t heal your sick mother?”

The simple hangnail became a chunk of missing skin. I lowered my head. Fighting back tears.

“Sir,” my traitorous voice wobbled as I tried not to cry, “I keep trying but… I don’t think my power is that strong. I can close cuts, fix broken bones, but tumors are… hard.”

My father tilted his head back and laughed. Hard. He grabbed my wrist as quickly as a viper, “If I could put your mother’s cancer in you I would. You’re about as useful as a wet match in a dark cave.”

I couldn’t help the tears that fell down my cheek. It felt like I was involuntarily waving a white flag.

Gotham City: Present Day

I had to be stealthy with my gift. I couldn’t heal every one of the patients to full health right away. That would lead to suspicion. But if I could help it I could stop the major damage. I would heal internal organs. Replenish blood. Reduce ten fractures to two or one. It all depended on timing and if people were watching me.

I was walking home from the hospital. I only lived about three blocks away. I got off shift at around 20:49. I didn’t start my next stretch for another three days. And I was milking my walk home. Stopping to smell the roses or whatever. That is normally not a very smart thing to do in Gotham at night, especially as a woman. But part of me didn’t care.

Earlier, I looked at my phone and frowned when I realized the date.

Thursday, May 19th.

My mom died 16 years ago today. Waves of emotion flooded my senses. Anger at myself for not remembering. Sadness that she had been gone more of my life than she had been in it. Restlessness for what my father might do or say. Some years he likes to reach out. Others he doesn’t. But most of all I was feeling reckless. Like I wanted someone to give me a reason. Obviously, I would only hurt someone to defend myself or others. But there was so much anger living in my body, part of me hoped some idiot would try something with me tonight.

So, I walked home. Slowly.

Normally, you keep your head down and you keep moving. You don’t look or gawk. You listen out of necessity. I was listening just because I could. It was the normal stuff. Men smoking cigarettes and catcalling. Women were offering their nightly services. Random people either praising or damning superheroes. Drug deals. Graffiti artists. Fights. And of course, people who simply were walking home from work. Gotham had range and was never boring that’s for sure.

But something picked up on the very edge of my senses. Despite my better logic, I turned toward the very quiet sound. It could have just been rats, but it sounded so familiar. It sounded like a death rattle. The thing you hear just before shit hits the fan and the patient codes.

Without thinking I ran down the alley toward the sound. At first, it was nothing. Just trash and rats. But then I saw it. He almost blended perfectly in with the shiny black garbage bags. His cape was the same color but reflected the light less.

“Sir? Sir, are you alright?” I walked hesitantly forward, grabbing my pepper spray just in case.

The man did not answer, he only garbled and coughed. My work brain took over my fear. Instantly I rolled the man over and began assessing him. I suppressed a gasp when I rolled him over and a familiar cowl mask came into view. It was cracked down the middle. His face was bleeding from an unknown location. His breathing was labored and staggered.

Calmly, I closed my eyes and pressed my hands against his chest.

Oh yeah. Batman was dying. He had several broken ribs. A pneumothorax. A bruised liver, kidney, and pancreas. His cardiac output was a joke. The man had no perfusion.

I didn’t think. I didn’t hold back like I do at the hospital. I just healed. And healed. And healed. I healed him down to his bone-on-bone knees, sprained ankle, and fractured wrist.

God, this guy had a lot of injuries.

I was close to passing out by the time I was done. I had done too much, ate, and slept too little. My powers were demanding when it came to energy. If I didn’t eat or sleep within 30 minutes I was about to pass out next to bat boy himself.

I gave him one last assessment. After double-checking that he would live and that I didn’t miss anything I finally looked at his face again.

This time I gasped. Batman was the billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne? I shook my head like I was clearing cobwebs. I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Much like Batman, I didn’t want people to know what I could do. The last time people knew…

Just as I turned and took a few steps I rolled my eyes at my nagging thoughts.

What if someone sees him before he wakes up?

Reaching into my tote bag I pulled out a black medical mask. I not so gracefully MacGyvered it across his exposed face so that it was covered. And with that, I made my way home.

My cat, Hashbrown, eagerly greeted me at the door. I nearly fell asleep locking it. I bent down to pick her up and gave her a kiss on her perfect little cat head. I ripped my gross work scrubs off, threw them in the wash, and crashed on the couch in my underwear before my brain could process what happened.

I healed Batman.

I healed… Bruce Wayne?

Part Two, Part Three

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purplepickles · 7 months

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“Under The Covers”

Pairings: Central cee x black fem reader

Genre: fluff

Authors Note: it’s my first time writing on tumblr so bare with me I also haven’t haven’t written anything in like years I used to a Wattpad author in like 2017-2019😭 so imagine what I used to be writing. It’s not my best peice of work but it’s progress kinda messy icl in terms of storyline but it’s something anyways I hope everyone enjoys it 💗

You had just signed a contract with vogue for a new segment they were trying out for they’re YouTube channel called “Under the Covers”. It was in a podcast style in a bedroom setting hence the name and basically talking about the latest fashion trends tips or anything black girl related.

You were so grateful for this opportunity never in your life would you have imagine a little black girl from London was able to sign a massive deal with vogue. The topic of todays video was maintenance. How you maintain standards for yourself if that means relationship, mental or physical health. So instead of it being in their studio you wanted your video being a bit more homely so why not in your home. The producers had set everything up in your room making sure everything was ready for filming but this video was going to have a little extra twist. You were going to have your very first guest and they how they managed to maintain their life and overall humbleness with the fame he had gained over the years.

You kept your relationship on the down low on the respect of each other careers and not wanting to surround your relationship over it. You were actually calm with that but he wasn’t liking seeing people he fucked with in your dms with heart eyes.

Little did Yn know he was going to announce it in their video together.

“Okay I’m going to count down from 5 and we’ll start filming” said the producer

“Hi Vogue it’s me Yn/ln and welcome to our new segment called Under the covers where uncover beauty secrets fashion and every black girl related. But today’s video things are little different we’re in my actual bedroom and I have a special guest with us he’s one of my favourites rappers right now a current world wide sensation Central Cee”

“I didn’t know I was your favourite artist”

“Yes you did you’re also my most listened to artist on Spotify we’ve defo talked about this”

“Mhmmm”

You rolled your eyes and continued with the video

“Anyways let’s get straight into todays topic: maintenance. How to do maintain eye yourself to keep your life somewhat stable”

“I guess keeping my mum,my brothers, my fans and my girl happy innit. If they’re happy I’m happy” said central cee never straying away from eye contact from the love of his life

“And what you say is the hardest one to keep happy and why” Yn was very curious about this who knew where this could go

“My girl defo she’s says I’m annoying I think she hates me”

The way your head slowly snapped

“Did you not say at Amelia Dinner Date you like girls you hate you”

“Yh I did I turns me on but she’s just something Yk I’m just infatuated by her but maybe I’m a bit delusional when it comes to her yk idk if that’s a good thing or bad thing. Kinda new to this love thing and not messing up yk I don’t wanna get it wrong again I really like her”

That was probably the most beautiful thing he’s said in a while she didn’t know he felt like this she sometimes she can be a bit rude and her sarcasm can be taken the wrong way but she thought he knew between the lines that she didn’t hate him she lived more than anything.

“I think you should talk to her about your feeling more Yk. Don’t be shy on opening up more Yk. When you feel ready ask her what she thinks it’s possibly lacking” she smiled at him with reassurance hoping that he could through her eyes that’s it okay and she was listening

“Yh your right imma tell her right now!”

Yn chocked on her drink. He could not be serious. She should’ve known this boy was up to something

“As in right now!? I’m sure she’s busy” you said trying to get to him to change his mind

“Nah she’s not im calling her rn”

For someone who didn’t like interviews this but sure had a lot to say

Ring

Your phone was on the other side of the room Ringing none stop.

Everyone was looking at you. You knew the producers were loving this but you were not this was too much.

Ring

“Yn are you gonna pick up you phone”

you usually loved his smile but this was just devious.

“Do I have to” you were just dreading this

Everyone shouted yes. You rolled out bed and a grabbed the phone

“Hi baby”

“Hi cench, now can we get back to the video please”

“Yes Cench we can. You wanna cuddle too?”

The video was going well there was laughter within the whole room. You asked him the question that you were assigned to ask him everything was going great. You loved being under your lovers arms. Maybe letting people in wasn’t so bad.

“Thank you vogue for this absolutely-

A knock on the door you both looked at door and someone opened to little boy running in crying and jumping to Oakley’s arm. How many surprises could one video take you said to yourself in your head.

“What’s up little man” Oakley now went into full father mode his whole rapper persona was switched and all he cared about was understanding why his little boy was upset

“Had a bad dream” said the little one

“How about we say goodbye to vogue and make some hot chocolate” you said while trying to tickle him

“Right I think me and vogue has had enough surprises don’t forget to like subscribe and hit that notification and stay tuned for next weeks video about Motherhood and Careers with a icon mother and billionaire. Bye guys”

#central cee #central cee x reader #centralcee inagines #central cee x you #central cee x Yn

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ask-the-rag-dolly · 6 months

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♪ ~ a little rag dolly , wishing your worries away ~ ♪

please read the faq ! ( updated as of 4/9/2024 )

a part ask-blog , part comic where ragatha is infected with a sentient virus that can talk to her - and somehow that's the least concerning part in all of this ?

there's no right or wrong choices here but these all definitely look like wrong ones

[ while this is mostly not intended to be a horror comic , please be warned that this will contain content that can be seen as disturbing such as depictions of mental issues and breakdowns , illness , self-harm , suicidal and intrusive thoughts , scopophobia - and possibly more i haven't listed ! if these things get too distressing it's okay to click away , your mental wellbeing matters more ^^ ]

READ IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER , COOL !!

somehow doesn't work in mobile , please don't ask me i don't know how to fix it , blame tumblr idk lol

phase 1

phase 2

TAGS

[ asks ] / [ ask2 ] - main posts

[ ooc ] - misc. posts

[ INTERMISSION ] - surprise !

[ non-canon ] - non-canon asks

[ ESSAY WARNING ] - mod rambles

[ doodles ] - doodles from yours truly !

[ THE INFLUENCER ] - old t.i tag ! design was by @/raggedabstraction

tadc influence au - green ?????????

[ you just opened : pandora's box ! ] - an achievement i give to a select amount of asks that completely ran the plot into a tree and exploded it <3

[ animations ] - ... animations !

[ office lore ] - backstory that i don't think is pretty important to this story but people are somehow invested in it so here you go

[ more will be added ! ... if i figure it out ... ]

GUIDELINES AND BOUNDARIES

nooo inappropriate asks, please ! i will not hesitate to block you if you send one

my art is free to use ! use it for your icon , an edit , or even repost it ! my only condition really is to credit me (:

the only ship i'll lean towards is jesterdoll (pomni x ragatha) ! even then , it's not the main focus ( i prefer exploring more platonic dynamics honestly ! )

please be patient and do not take it personally if your ask doesn't get in , i am just one artist running this blog , not planning to get another mod , and i get a shitton of asks whenever i open the inbox . there is no 100% guarantee that your ask will get in

please do not dm me . i am not open for small talk . just take any questions or inquiries to the ask box if it's open . sorry but i will be ignoring any messages from this point on . it's nothing personal i am just severely mentally ill

magic anons are fine ! though note i will be very picky towards them and most likely won't accept any that exceeds 10 asks .

you can call me mod bee . for the sake of this blog , i go by she/her ^^ ( please don't bring up my main if you recognize my art style shfgsf )

[ guidelines are subject to change ~ ]

#[ ooc ]

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xitsensunmoon · 1 year

Text

Biting the Hand That Feeds au FAQ (Vampires + donor au)

Any general content warnings for bhtf au?

Yes. A normal amount of fnaf warnings, a normal amount of vampire warnings. For someone who doesn't know I elaborate... For vampire stuff, the most obvious ones are blood, hypnosis, bites, and animalistic behaviour. Less obvious - slightly suggestive themes. For fnaf - fnaf's usual violence, dark themes, a drop of gore and murders. The lore is uh. Very dark. I will try to decrease the amount of all of the cruelty but man. People who know, know how hard it will be. But I will tag everything properly so don't worry.

Is there a fic for your au?

No. And currently, I'm not even planning on writing one.

How do I find the story?

For now, we have two comics that are directly connected and one that doesn't have a specific place in the story but is about canonical lore.

[ 1 ] - [ 2 ] - [ x ]

In future, we will have more and I probably absolutely will forget to update this post so I recommend checking the tags. Here's the tag list

Tip: don't click the tag. Tumblr hides half of the results. Type it in the blog's search instead :)

Are the comics the only canonical thing about au?

No! I answer asks and draw a lot of doodles with bhtf au all the time and 90% of them are canon. You can, yet again, find everything in the tag list linked in the previous question.

Can I draw/write fan stuff for your au?

Yes, please!! I'm always happy to see fanart and fan writings and literally everything that you do! Just tag me when you post and use a fanart or fanwriting tag for au specifically so I don't miss it!

Can you include my characters in your story?

No, unfortunately, I cannot. The story is already written and I don't have any "space" for background characters either. Maybe it will change but currently, things are like this.

I asked a question with an interaction with my characters and I never got an answer, why?

I don't accept such requests. I'm not ready to spend my time drawing other people's characters for free(if I personally don't want to, of course)

Is there any limit to how many questions I can ask?

No, not at all! You can ask all you want just please make sure your question wasn't answered before. There is a big possibility I will just simply delete it if it was answered beforehand many times. Check the ask tag for it.

What about limitations? Any boundaries?

Please no questions about tickling🧍‍♀️ I got so many of those it already makes me uncomfortable. And for some reason, a lot of people send asks that include violence towards my characters and while I don't really feel uncomfortable with this I just idk what to answer and why are you even doing this lmao

What questions I should avoid?

Well, not really avoid but I will mention it anyway.

The things I have planned to draw right now:

- Sun and Moon and y/n's first meeting

- The creation of Sun&Moon

- Why S&M are sensitive to light and darkness

- How they hunt

So no need to ask me about these. I will show it, I promise.

What about sexual themes?

I understand that I post a lot of suggestive stuff and it may appear I allow such a thing but no.

You can create content with it tho, I don't mind for the most part. Just be ready that I may not reblog it, as my Tumblr is a SFW place. It's always 50/50.

Romantic themes?

I do draw some kisses and cuddles when I feel like it and you of course can send ideas for cute interactions but in the story we're very far away from it lol.

My question gets ignored even though I followed everything that you mentioned here. Why?

Answered in main FAQ.

Can I share the ideas for your au with you?

YES!!! Yes, yes and yes! I'm very open to that, like yes! The only thing that I definitely want to mention - you should expect that I actually can take your ideas and use them. Some people are protective of their ideas so if you're like this you probably should not share them with me :)

The information that you're using for your au is wrong.

Happens sometimes yeah. I know nothing about any medical stuff for y/n so I usually improvise. After all it's an au about robotic vampires man, this information is absolutely wrong. But! You're free to drop feedback/constructive criticism in my inbox!

Will be updated later

#biting the hand that feeds au #bhtf au #my art #for pinned post

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genshinluvr · 8 months

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Mr. Sweet Talker

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader (Lyney x Isekai's!Reader)

Summary: Aether and Paimon managed to snag free tickets to the magic show in Fontaine! It's all thanks to a certain famous Fontianian magician. Who knew he could be such a sweet talker?

Note: Since I took a break from posting fanfics last week, this is a mini-fic, so not a lot of men will be talking in this fic since this mini-fic does center around Lyney. If you're wondering if I'm going to add him to the harem or not, the answer is idk. I know, for sure, that I'm not going to be adding Freminet to the harem. I don't mind adding Lyney to the harem, but I have a feeling there are going to be people in my inbox telling me he's a minor— and debating over Genshin character's ages is something I do not want to deal with. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of 🤔

Word Count: 3.3k

Your groans fill the living area as you plop on the couch, sprawling across Wriothesley and Pantalone’s lap. The two men glance at each other before looking at you. You roll over on your back and stare up at Wriothesley and Pantalone with a pout.

Pantalone runs his fingers through your hair. “What’s wrong, Butterfly?” Pantalone coos, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“I thought summer break was going to be fun, but all I did was sleep in! There are a few weeks until school is back in session at the Akademiya. But I don’t want to return to the Akademiya, telling my professors and classmates that all I ever did during the summer was sleep in,” you say, puckering your lips.

“What else did you do during the summer? Aside from being in my arms, of course,” Wriothesley says, running his hands through his hair with a cheeky smile.

No, really. What else did you do during the summer? Summer is a blur at this point, and the only thing you remember was taking many, many naps. In fact, you slept so much during the summer that your sleep schedule is even worse than it already is. You can say you have traveled to many regions in Teyvat. After all, your boyfriends are from different nations, and you sometimes tag along with them while they work. So, you job shadowed your boyfriends sometimes?

The door to the estate slams open, startling you, Wriothesley, and Pantalone. Aether and Paimon enter the large estate— Paimon looks smug while Aether is wringing the water out of his hair with a grimace. You and Paimon lock gaze before she waves at you with a big smile.

“[Y/N]! Do you want to go to a magic show with us?” Paimon asks, floating over toward you.

You prop yourself up, accidentally digging your elbows into Wriothesley’s thighs. If it did hurt Wriothesley, he didn’t let it show on his face. Instead, the man looks at Paimon and Aether curiously. Magic show? With all of the things that exist on Teyvat, you’re sort of surprised that magic still exists despite there being Archons, dragons, and mythical creatures roaming and inhabiting Teyat.

“Depends! Who is ‘us’ exactly? You and Aether, or everyone in the abode?” you ask, sitting up and getting off Wriothesley and Pantalone. “And where is this magic show going to take place?”

Aether holds his hands up. “Whoa, slow down with the questions there, [Y/N]. The magic show is going to take place in Fontaine,” Aether says.

Your eyes light up. “Fontaine? I’ve always wanted to explore the City of Justice more often! Furina invited me to be a witness at one of the trials, but I wasn’t able to make it,” you say.

Paimon claps her hands, twirling in the air with excitement. “Great! Let’s get ready before the show starts! We know the magician of tonight’s show, and he managed to get us all the best seats in the house!” Paimon says, propping her hands on her hips with a smug smile.

You have no idea what Paimon is implying, but you went along with it anyway. When you were thrown into Teyvat, it was before Sumeru was released. And now, since you’re going to (according to Paimon and Aether) Opera Epiclese, you’re going to assume Fontaine is now released. You have stepped foot in other regions aside from Sumeru, Inazuma, Liyue, and Mondstadt, but it was brief.

You’re not sure what people typically wear to the Opera Epiclese. Since the citizens of Fontaine dress elegantly on a day-to-day basis, you opted to wear something classy. It’s the best thing you can find that isn’t too formal or too underdressed. The trip to Fontaine was fun— aside from the Meks attacking when you and the men accidentally used the wrong waypoint. But it’s fine because no one got hurt, not a single hair is out of place, and everyone’s clothes are spotless and creaseless. While the seating is free (all thanks to Paimon and Aether knowing the magician of the show), you weren’t sure where you wanted to sit. You don’t mind sitting in the first row or the second row. The main issue is the men fighting over who gets to sit next to you.

“I want to sit next to [Y/N] during the show,” Venti huffs, glaring at Albedo.

Albedo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well, if [Y/N] sits between us, then we don’t need to argue over who gets to sit next to [Y/N],” replies Albedo.

You plop on the chair, resting your elbow on the armrest while the men around you argue. You don’t care where you sit. The only thing you probably care about is being able to watch the magic show without any interruptions. And you’re also hoping the magician isn’t going to ask for volunteers or randomly pick someone from the audience for one part of the show. You don’t know how you’re going to react if it did happen.

“Oh? What’s going on here?” asks a suave voice.

The men stop bickering around you and turn toward the direction of the voice. You peek from behind Capitano to see a shorter male, around Xiao’s height, approaching you and your boyfriends. He stops in front of the group, propping his hands on his hips, and adjusts the hat on his head. On his right cheek is a single teardrop, and he has a braid on the left side of his head. His hair is almost the same color as Kazuha’s hair.

Paimon perks up, waving to the male. “Lyney! It’s good to see you!” Paimon cheers.

Lyney smiles at Paimon and graciously bows to Paimon.

“Lyney! Good luck with your performance! We look forward to seeing you perform and wow the audience,” says Neuvillette, smiling at the shorter male before him.

Lyney’s eyes light up, and he smiles widely. “Thank you, Monsieur Neuvillette!” Lyney says.

Lyney looks at the others around him, and his eyes land on you. You’re fixing your shirt, making sure there isn’t any lint sticking to your silk shirt. You tuck your hair behind your ear before continuing to adjust your clothes.

“And who is this? I don’t believe we’ve met,” Lyney speaks up.

You look up to see Lyney standing before you, gazing at you curiously. You blink at the Fontainian magician owlishly and look around at the others, assuming he is talking to the men that aren’t from Fontaine.

Lyney laughs softly, shaking his head. “I’m talking to you, silly. You’re a fresh face around here, and I want to know my guest’s name before the show starts,” says Lyney.

“Oh! I thought you meant the others that aren’t natives to Fontaine aside from myself,” you laugh shyly, rubbing the back of your neck as you stand up to properly greet the Fontainian magician. “My name’s [Y/N]! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lyney.”

You hold your hand out to shake Lyney’s hand. Lyney bows gracefully, grabs your hand, and presses a delicate kiss on your knuckles. You stare at Lyney with wide eyes, heat rushing to your cheeks as you begin to stutter. Scaramouche narrows his eyes at Lyney and is at your side almost immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist and walking away with you.

“I don’t like it when other people show affection toward you,” Scaramouche mutters.

You and Scaramouche end up bumping into someone. Scaramouche looks to see Lyney standing there, his hands propped on his hips as he gazes at you and Scaramouche with a small amused smile. Scaramouche does a double take and turns to where Lyney was standing before he and you bump into the Fontainian magician.

Lyney points at your ear. “You have something in your hair,” Lyney murmurs.

Your eyes widen, and you begin feeling around your hair, searching for the supposed object in your hair Lyney’s referring to. After a few seconds of searching around, you look at Lyney, confused. Lyney smiles and steps toward you, tucking your hair behind your ear. You stare at Lyney with wide eyes.

Lyney glances at you for a second before looking at the side of your head, humming softly. “Oh! I think I found it!” Lyney says.

You sigh in relief and see Lyney hold out a rose toward you.

“A rose for someone as beautiful as you. The rainbow rose is beautiful, but it pales in comparison to your beauty,” says Lyney, his cheeks turning bright pink.

Your eyes widen, and you grab the rose from Lyney’s hand. Lyney smiles and takes a step back, fixing his hat while ignoring the subtle (and some not-so-subtle) glares from the men around you two. You admire the beautiful flower native to Fontaine, lightly rubbing the rose petal between your thumb and index finger.

“Aside from the glaze lily, the rainbow rose is beautiful,” you murmur.

Lyney smiles, places his index and middle finger underneath your chin, and tilts your head up. “Both are beautiful flowers, but they’re not nearly as beautiful as you, my flower,” Lyney says, winking at you.

You gulp and stare at Lyney, cheeks ablaze. Who knew that the Fontainian magician was a sweet talker. Childe lets out a fake laugh as he slowly walks over to you and Lyney, draping his arms over your shoulders while standing tall. Lyney crosses his arms over his chest, looking at the irritated eleventh Harbinger with an amused look.

Childe pats your head. “I don’t know if you’re aware or not, but [Y/N] is my significant other. My snookums is taken,” Childe says, pulling you to his chest while glaring at the Fontainian magician.

Lyney laughs. “Well, your partner is quite a beauty. You might want to hold onto them tightly, or else someone is going to snatch them up,” Lyney jokes, taking his hat off and twirling them on the tip of his finger. “And Snookums is their nickname? How adorable, but a little bit too common.”

Dainsleif raises his eyebrows at Lyney’s comment while Childe lets out another fake laugh, hugging you to his chest tightly. You pat Childe’s back, trying your best not to let the ginger Harbinger crush you against his chest. You don’t mind it, but at least not in front of Fontaine’s famous magician.

Dainsleif crosses his arms over his chest. “And what nickname would you give them if they were your significant other?” Dainsleif asks.

Itto coughs. “Uh, Dainsleif, my guy, I don’t think we should give the magician guy permission to give our onikabuto booboo bear nicknames…” Itto trails off, tapping his foot on the ground.

An amused look flashes across Lyney’s face after hearing Itto’s comment. Lyney hums and strokes his chin while gazing at you intently. Your face heats up the more the Fontainian magician stares at you. Childe rests his chin beside your shoulders, glaring at the shorter male. Lyney snickers and shakes his head.

“Onikabuto booboo bear is certainly an interesting pet name for your significant other. It’s more unique than snookums, that’s for sure. However, it’s too much of a mouthful, and I believe someone as lovely as [Y/N] deserves something sweet and simple,” Lyney says, shrugging his shoulders.

You look around the Opera Epiclese, searching for a clock. You just want the show to start already. You don’t think you have the patience to deal with multiple people debating over nicknames given to you.

Ayato crosses his arms over his chest, looking at Lyney curiously. “And what is that?” Ayato asks.

Lyney smiles and grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles again. “Mon amour, have I ever told you how beautiful you look under the lights of the Opera Epiclese?” Lyney purrs, looking up at you through his thick eyelashes.

“Huh!? Mon amour!? That’s just ‘my love,’ but in another language!” Kaveh exclaims, propping one hand on his hip while leaning on one leg.

Cyno yawns. “And you say the previous nicknames aren’t creative? I would say the same for you,” Cyno mutters nonchalantly.

Lyney releases your hand and sighs softly. “While the nickname is common, I believe it sounds better and more endearing in another language,” Lyney says proudly.

Tighnari huffs and leans to Albedo, whispering, “I find it ironic how he doesn’t like the nicknames Childe and Itto had given [Y/N] when the nickname he gave [Y/N] falls in the same category.”

Albedo chuckles and shakes his head. You sigh and close your eyes, mentally praying to the Hydro Archon to start the magic show already so you don’t have to be caught in the middle of whatever is going on right now. As if the Archon has heard your prayers, the doors to the Opera Epiclese open, and audience members gradually start trickling into the room. Lyney sighs, turning to look at the men around you.

“This is my cue to prepare for the show. I hope you all enjoy the show!” Lyney says, smiling at everyone before turning to look at you. “I hope you’ll cheer for me as I perform, mon amour,” Lyney adds, winking at you before walking to the back of the stage when Lynette gestures for him to get his butt backstage.

You sigh, puffing your cheeks out before sitting down. The men grumble as they begin taking their seats, no longer arguing over who's going to be sitting beside you during the show. The magic show was almost two hours long— the overall show was entertaining, and you could see why Lyney is such a popular magician in Fontaine. He’s charming and witty. He knows how to put people on the edge of their seats, wanting to see more of the magic tricks up his sleeves.

Lights suddenly shine on you, startling you out of your thoughts. You look around cluelessly while the audience stares holes into your body. You clear your throat and look at the stage, only to see that Lynette’s the only person standing on stage while her brother, the star of the show, is nowhere to be seen.

“Huh?” You look around, searching for the Fontainian magician.

Hands cover your eyes, causing you to place your hands over the person’s hands. You hear shuffling from behind you.

The person whispers, “How much do you trust me?”

You space out. How much do you trust this person behind you? You know it’s Lyney. Who else would it be? You decide to go along with it and see where it goes from there. It’s part of his magic trick, and you wonder what he has in store for you and the audience.

You press your lips into a thin line. “I trust you a decent amount,” you reply.

“Do you trust me?” Lyney asks.

You nod slowly. “Yeah, I trust you,”

Lyney smiles and continues to cover your eyes. “Wonderful! Now, please stand up for me.”

You furrow your eyebrows with confusion but continue to do what he says. You hear more shuffling around you. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but when Lyney pulls his hands away from your eyes and tells you to open your eyes, you find yourself in another room. You’re still in the opera house, but you’re not in the audience.

You look at Lyney. “Where are we?” You ask.

“We’re backstage! However, I would like for you to do something for me,” Lyney says, walking toward the wooden box and gesturing to it.

You point at the box, raising your eyebrows at Lyney. “You want me to go in the box and do what exactly?” You ask. “I’ll have you know, I’m not a magician or an assistant to a magician.”

“It’s a surprise,” Lyney says, winking at you.

You get into the box and watch the other assistants close the box. You press your back against the box, feeling the box getting wheeled away somewhere. You trust Lyney despite meeting him not long ago before the performance. You hear the faint chattering of the audience and Lyney’s muffled voice from outside the box.

You were so distracted with trying to hear what Lyney was saying to the audience when the box was suddenly airborne. Your heart sinks into your chest, your stomach drops, and you close your eyes, bracing for impact. Whatever trick Lyney has up his sleeves, you trust him. You’re going to be okay, and you’re not going to get hurt.

Right?

The box opens, and Lyney peeks into the box, gazing at you. You stare at Lyney, confused. Lyney holds his hands out for you to take. You grab his hands and step out of the box. You thought the box was falling from a great distance, but you were wrong. One minute you assume you’re freefalling in a box, and now you find yourself standing on a platform beside Lyney.

Huh? What just happened?

“Why do you look confused?” Lyney teases, poking your cheeks.

You shake your head. “I have so many questions,” you mutter.

Lyney hands you a rainbow rose from thin air, giving them to you. You grab the flower and look at the audience, still confused about what happened. As much as you wanted to ask Lyney how you went from being in the audience to being on stage beside Lyney as his “volunteer assistant,” you have an inkling feeling Lyney is going to tell you the same thing. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

Lyney laughs, twirling you around in front of the audience before having you face him. You blink rapidly, feeling the dizziness hit you. Lyney pinches your cheek and waves at the audience as they all begin to leave while the men get up from their seats and start walking over toward the stage. Lyney wraps his arms around your waist and jumps off the platform.

“You didn’t inform me about this stunt, Lyney,” Lynette says, propping her hands on her hips while glaring at her brother.

Lyney releases you, and you fix your clothes, sighing in relief when your feet touch the ground. Lyney rubs the back of his neck, laughing shyly.

“Lynette, I sometimes bring volunteers to the stage, remember?” Lyney reminds Lynette. “What? Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” Lyney teases, poking his sister’s cheek with a shit-eating grin.

Lynette rolls her eyes and lightly smacks Lyney’s hands from her face. You sit at the edge of the stage, blanking out. You’re not sure if you have brain fog or if Lyney is such a charmer that he can get you in many situations without noticing the warnings. You rub your temples and close your eyes, sighing. Your mind is all over the place— you can’t think straight. Someone stops beside you and sits next to you at the edge of the stage. You look to see Wriothesley and Neuvillette.

“Did I happen to space out the entire time during the show? I can’t help but feel like I missed out on a lot of things,” you say.

Neuvillette smiles and tucks your hair behind your ears. “Well, Lyney did ask for volunteers for the last part of the show, and you happen to volunteer,” replies Neuvillette.

Well, this is news to you.

You hug your knees to your chest and rest your chin on your knees. “That’s odd. I don’t remember volunteering,” you mumble.

Kaeya laughs from behind you, squatting behind you, and ruffles your hair. “Maybe you didn’t notice because he’s a sweet talker who managed to enchant you with his words,” Kaeya says, pinching your cheeks.

Gorou laughs nervously. “I would be careful if I were you. It seems like his sister isn’t too pleased about him giving you that rainbow rose,” Gorou says, peeking over his shoulders.

You shrug your shoulders and rest your head on Neuvillette’s shoulders, twirling the rainbow rose around by the stem. Unbeknownst to you, Lyney doesn’t plan on stopping wooing you anytime soon. As long as he (and the others) get to see the pretty smile on your face, Lyney doesn’t want to stop sweet talking you.

Note: Not sure how I feel about this mini-fic.... anyway, depending on how high demand Lyney is and if he's an adult (or at least a young adult above the age of 19), I will add him to the harem. Other than that, he and his little brother will make appearances in fics here and there, depending on what the fic is about. Freminet is not going to be added to the harem, in case anyone is wondering. Since there is a hurricane headed toward my state, I don't know how the future of this upcoming fanfic is going to turn out. I'm just hoping the power doesn't go out and that everything will be fine. I just want to write fanfics and post them. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @jadedist, @mompt2, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr, @asoulsreverie, @thedarkwinterrose, @soobinsgirlfriend, @inapileofbooke

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

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roturo · 9 months

Text

I DO - geto suguru x reader

summary: love makes us do stupid things. stupid things to never notice how you loved him. how he lost you.

warnings: angst, age-gap, nsfw(?), childhood friends, a lot of metaphors (?).

A/N: I never realized how much I loved writing angst and how tranced I could be while writing it. This was supposed to be smut but idk, felt depressed.

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REGLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE LEAVE A COMENT AND REBLOG MY WORK ><

How you call it? … Lover? Delusional?

Ah, hopeless romantic.

They know you as the hopeless romantic in jujutsu tech.

But, being in love with one person for your whole life and feelings were never reciprocated would it still count as a hopeless romantic even if you keep that hope for it?

Geto Suguru. Your childhood crush, school crush, and what you like to call him, soulmate.

Everyone in your social circle knows you’re in love with Geto, and you’re pretty sure people outside the circle know it too. You saw him as someone to admire, to follow his path, to be as strong as him.

He was 12, you were 8. But, until this day, him being 25, and you being 21, those feelings and thoughts about him wouldn’t leave anytime soon.

An amazing guy like him, teached you fighting techniques, helps you with your studies, and even brings you out with his friends every once in a while. He was the prince of your dreams.

You never said out loud you had a crush on him. Not even accepting it. But everyone knew because of the way your eyes light up when you see him, the high pitch in your voice when you get nervous around him, feeling protected by him.

You suppose he’s dumb because how could everyone know but him?

He had you confused, wrapped around his finger, you’re sure he likes you too. The way his cheeks get pinkish when you compliment him, how he would grab your hand unconsciously while walking, how he would kiss your neck when you’re alone, but never your lips, how he knew every part of your body, just slight touches, nothing to call it something more, and knowing every single little fact about you.

But now you feel stupid, foolish.

Guess you played yourself, might even be your fault.

Or maybe you should have never played him so hard.

It hit you like a shot in the heart the first time you saw him with her. She was beautiful, funny, and smart. But oh no, you won’t let her love him like you do, no one could.

They all know nobody could love Suguru Geto as you. He even said it himself.

“She’s like the sun covering my body with love. The water in the shower touches my skin and sees everything about me without any bad thought. Nobody could compare with her, I don’t even love myself as much as she does.”

So why are you afraid of losing everything you thought you couldn’t?

And it’s like she knew how much this hurts you. It’s like she wanted this all along. She could be everything, but a good person? Oh no. At least not towards you.

She would often make back-handed comments about you, treat you like shit when Geto’s not around, humiliate you.

She is evil.

“Trust me Suguru, she’s not the one.”

“Why do you care so much? Everyone seems fine with her, but you? Why do you hate her so much? She’s been nice with you, with everyone! Just stop being annoying and leave me and my relationship alone.”

“… Suguru-”

“No. I don’t wanna hear anything else related to her and how you don’t like her. Stop it. Please.”

It felt like your whole world was falling apart. What happened to the silly little dates at midnight for some ice cream? The sudden hugs? Texting everyday? Listening to each other?

Maybe he was a problem right from the start. Never facing these feelings, never running away, guess that’s your fault.

It hit you like a poisonous dart. You said you wouldn’t let her love him like you do, hold him like you do, know him like you do.

So why are you stepping out? Leaving school? Starting a ‘normal life’?

You stopped being related to them, to him. And you wished he never fell in love with her.

And after some time, he wished that too.

He was stupid, foolish.

Guess he played with himself, it’s his fault.

It hit him like a shot in the heart. Knowing he fucked up this time. You were beautiful, funny, smart, and kind. But he never loved you like you loved him.

They all knew he was stupid for letting you go.

“She’s just really sentimental and sensible, she’s still very young to understand relationships, a childhood crush it’s something impossible to really happen, she just needs to learn that.”

So why is he afraid of losing everything he thought he could?

And it’s like he always knew he fucked this up the moment he treated you bad. That he would regret this, but love made everyone stupid.

Did he really feel love towards her? Love her like he loved you?

He was an idiot.

“I’m sorry I never appreciated you like I should’ve. I’m sorry for losing the chance to love you like you loved me. I’m sorry for leaving you.”

It hit him like a poisonous dart. He said you would come back, stop loving him.

So why is he crying here in a dusty vault? Where were you? Why you left?

You stopped being related. To them, to him.

And after some time, nothing happened.

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kenlvry · 4 months

Text

jealous

an; someone requested this but idk tumblr wouldn't allow me to edit it in drafts and i accidentally deleted it so here it is im sorry anon🙁🙁. btw this is more scenarios instead of hcs

17-18 stan, kenny, kyle!jealous x gn!reader (uses the term "your girl/mygirl" in kyles)

req : "can you do main 3 who's extremely jealous with reader?"

stan

"who was that?" stan had you pinned to a confined space, in the janitors closet to be more specific. he towers over you his shadow blocking the one light bulb in the closet. "..stan i have to get to class" you avoid eye contact, Stan's jealousy was something everyone was aware about but it was never this serious to the point he'd pull you in a closet.

"so do i, answer me who was that? you seemed to love laughing and giggling at his jokes, looking at him as if your boyfriend wasn't watching" although his head doesnt look down on you, his eyes does, he raises one eyebrow looking down on your figure. "stan it was just.." it was a friend but for some reason you wanted to push his buttons a little.. you know add a little fuel.

"and what if me and him have something? you got a problem with it?" if he wasn't close enough, now he is. he walks towards you in the already small space closing in on the distance between your bodies, "what?" his head now turns down to look at you. although you stutter you try to fight back "y-yeah.. what about it?" despite your cruel words that you have no idea is aching his heart your eyes fail to meet his.

"baby look at me in the eyes and tell me he loves you better than i do" stans voice was low, you've never seen this side of him and to be fair it was kinda hot. your eyes glance at his own pupils and your words seems to not want to come out. "well?" stan crosses his arms, "im waiting" he looks down on you.

you laugh, it was funny but you were lowk getting scared "im just kidding stan! godd youre no fun" you laugh awkwardly and wrap your arms around his neck, tiptoeing. "that wasn't funny y/n i was actually about to cry" he sighs hugging you back.

"im serious though who is he" stan says his mouth inches away from your ear, tou you laugh "its a friend you idiot" "i dont care, no man should make another's girlfriend laugh so beautifully" he pulls back from the hug looking at you "sure next time I'll make him kiss me beautifully" "dude??" he retracts "kidding" you say opening the door walking out of it "im cutting off your lips if you kiss another man" stan says behind you.

kyle

bro this man.. jealousy is skyrocket high. he's not insecure no he's just irritated people can hear his partner's voice when he's supposed to be the only one who can hear your angelic voice.

you laugh echoes the hall, tears falling from how funny kenny was. "you could be a comedian you know?" you say panting from the joyous laugh "yeah i could, but i could also be your boyfriend" your smile fades "as if" he smirks walking close to you "yeah? don't wanna try? i could be better you know, kyle doesn't have to know"

before you could respond you feel a hand on your waist, your head turns to your side to see kyle looking at kenny with the most serious face. kyle was a serious man but this face was so serious it beats everything. "what do i dont have to know kenny?" he raises an eyebrow at his bestfriend "boo youre boring let me have a talk with your for a sec" kenny whines at kyle.

"my girl kenny, not yours" "could be" his grip on your waist tightened. "haha funny joke kenny, you could drop it" you laugh awkwardly "not funny didnt laugh" kyle replies. "nahh its no joke, maybe we could be something y/n" "what the fuck dude i am right here." kyles eyebrow furrow. "and?" "and you're about to watch something you'll never get to do" your eyebrows too furrow when you hear this but you quickly understand it when kyle turns you kissing you infront of kenny. his lips were soft with a taste of strawberry.

your eyes widen but quickly melt in to the kiss "fuck you guys, get a room honest", you open an eye at kenny and realise kyle raised a middle finger at him "fucking weirdos" he says before walking off. kyle pulls from the kiss "y/n i wont hesitate doing that again infront of every guy if you dont stop talking to them" he crosses his arms. "okayyy sorry kyle, next time instead of talking with guys I'll fuck them" "bro i will literally have a quickie with you behind to school rn if you dont stop" his face shows no humour while your grin was wide as ever.

kenny

okay, i like to think he's manipulative 😭 like tell me this dude doesn't turn the tables and makes you the one at fault. the fights you two have over his issues is crazy and you know he's manipulating you, its just you like the power over him. (although i think out of the three stan would be the most manipulative)

kenny looks down on you sitting on the bed. his eyes already glossy "please dont tell me you're cheating on me" his voice in a high pitch. you feel yourself wanting to sigh, this happens every week but you also feel yourself wanting to smirk with how you can easily make him cry. "what are you talking about kenny?"

"tolkien, you were laughing with him and he put his hands on your shoulder!" you sigh "kenny he was loosing balance" "and? as if bebe's shoulder wasn't right beside him!" you sigh again, rubbing your temples. "well? are you cheating on me?" "no! god kenny I'm not cheating on you!" your voice was high and your tone seemed like you were done with his shit.

you don't see it but kenny smirked, he felt himself feel proud. "im sorry kenny.. its just" you trail off "no.. don't worry" you feel as if his voice was off, his usual whined turn to a condescending one but you dont look up at him.

he sits down beside you,his body turning to yours "so.. can you cut Tolkien out of your life?" he says a low whisper "what?" you finally look at him, and something in his eyes tells that he seems.. rather proud. "can't you do that.. would you rather have your boyfriend crying every night thinking about how you an tolkien fuck each other?" "kenny!" you stand up, now youre the one looking down on him. though with his tall figure you barely even looked down

"what? dont act as if you dont want him in your bed every night!" "what are you saying!" "please! go on and kiss him, leave me be here all alone" his voice now high. "fuck fine I'll delete his contact!" you sigh in defeat "and dont talk to him at school" kenny adds "yes okay". kenny smiles, standing up and hugging you "i love you" you hesitate, "love you too"

and although the statement seems like a lie, the warmth of kennys hug melt awat the itching guilt that kenny was right about tolkien. you do want him in your bed every night

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moonlightspencie · 11 months

Text

self-assured

Description: There are many things Aaron Hotchner is sure about in his life. One thing evades this sureness: you.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

Warnings: it’s like all fluff and pining idk

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: originally on tumblr. then camped out on ao3. now back on tumblr.

Aaron Hotchner was sure of himself as he walked through the bullpen. He could walk with purpose as he greeted everyone on the way to his office. He was sure of his ability to lead his team through another day, and if a case popped up? He was sure he could lead them there, too.

He wasn’t one to get flustered, nervous, or fidgety in the face of danger. He knew the job, and most days he knew he could get it done.

One thing he was becoming increasingly less sure about was how to stay professional when you smiled at him like that.

“Come on, Hotch,” you whined, sitting across from him at the table. “We just got through a hard case. Loosen up a little.”

He fought a smile that was trying to force itself onto his face. He looked at you, though he couldn’t stop the amusement from showing in his eyes.

“I’m loose.”

“Oh, that’s a good one,” Rossi joked, a wide smile on his face.

“Okay, the sooner we finish this paperwork, the sooner we get back to the hotel,” Hotch said, playfully exasperated with his team.

A few of them grumbled, but they all got back to finishing the forms they needed to. One by one they started leaving the room, all ready to get some sleep after a very long day.

You had finished yours before the last couple of people left, but you weren’t willing to move quite yet. Mostly due to the fact that you knew Hotch had also been finished and wasn’t moving.

“We deal with too many crazy people,” you said with a sigh. “I hate to think that those people had to watch him swallow a bullet.”

“At least he let the rest of them live. It could have gone way worse,” Hotch said, not yet looking up.

“That’s true, but now we have to deal with the die-hards. And keep an eye on the other followers.”

“Let’s hope they won’t cause more problems for us and take this as a lesson,” he said with a sigh, pushing his papers away from him.

He stood, crossing his arms across his chest.

“It’s been a long week,” he said looking off towards the last few officers walking around outside of the office.

You watched him just long enough for him to notice. He looked back, raising a brow.

“What?” He asked quietly, leaning against the table.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. You look good today.”

You smiled innocently, unaware of the way his heart started beating wildly in his chest. He cleared his throat, looking away.

“Thank you,” he muttered.

“It’s nothing,” you shrugged, looking back out the windows. “Always fun seeing you in khakis, though.”

He chuckled. “Alright, you should really head to the hotel.”

“What? No way, cults are way more interesting than a stuffy hotel room.”

“Everyone else is gone.”

“You’re not.”

He fell quiet, knowing you’d checked him on that point.

“Can’t tell me to do something when you won’t. We’re done with the case, you can’t pull the angry boss card now.”

He smiled, looking away.

“See?” You exclaimed, pointing at him. “You’re smiling way more than normal. You must be exhausted.”

He opened his mouth in shock. “Hey!”

You shrugged. “I’m right.”

You started slowly walking towards the door. He watched you, a small smile on his face as you did. You raised your brows, nodding towards the exit. He sighed lightly, shaking his head as he started dragging his feet towards you, stopping just a couple feet in front of you.

“Ready, Chief?”

He chuckled, shaking his head again. “Chief?”

“I don’t know, it’s late.”

“Alright, let’s go, agent,” he said, pointing towards the door.

You walked out together, deciding that taking one car would do just as well. The ride back was quiet. You stared out the window at the lights that passed by, Hotch glancing at you out of the corner of his eyes.

“What are you thinking about?”

You sighed softly. “It’d be nice to come back and visit around here sometime. In better conditions. Seems like a nice place.”

“Yeah?”

You hummed. “I saw there was a little art museum here. Lots of parks. It’d be cool.”

“Maybe we can all take a team trip.”

You laughed. “Some non-violent team-building?”

“Exactly,” he agreed with a light laugh to match yours.

You smiled, breathing out. “That sounds nice.”

He quieted again, thinking about it. It would be nice to spend time out and about. Though, you were more on his mind than anyone else. He couldn’t help but picture you walking through a museum, pointing out every piece that caught your attention. Or walking a trail, admiring the views as you did. His thoughts were interrupted when he pulled into the parking lot of the hotel.

“Alright, time for bed,” he mumbled, looking at you.

A small smile creeped onto his face when he did. Your head was lolled to the side, your breath coming soft and even. He reached out, just barely touching your shoulder.

“Hey, we’re here,” he said, rubbing your arm gently. “Y/N?”

You shifted, eyes slowly opening. “Oh. We’re here.”

He smiled. “That’s what I said.”

You yawned. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

You straighten in your seat, stretching your arms in front of you.

“I fell asleep.”

“That’s okay.”

You looked at him, giving him a soft smile. He kept your eye a moment, then felt the need to look away. He looked back towards the hotel.

“We should go. We’re going to have a long day tomorrow.”

You nodded, yawning once more with a hand over your mouth. You both got out of the car, walking into the hotel and heading up the elevator. He said a quiet goodnight as you reached your room, and you offered a wave back, stepping inside.

Hotch got into his room, stretching his arms above his head as he walked towards the bathroom. He took a shower, closing his eyes and thinking of you.

He was sure of himself as he got out, climbing into bed. He was sure he was going to dream of you that night.

One thing he most definitely wasn’t sure of was how long he could go on pretending like his feelings didn’t exist.

A week later he sat at your dining room table, a little surprised at how homey your place felt. Not that you weren’t inviting as a person, he’d just never been to an agents house that felt so… Lived in. It was warm and comforting.

Emily and Derek talked over one another, though they agreed at every point they spoke about. JJ, Spencer, and Rossi were involved in their own conversation. You watched it all happen, sipping at your glass. You turned to Hotch after a moment, noticing that he didn’t seem to be involved in the happenings at the table.

“You think they realize how loud they’re being?” You asked in a whisper, leaning close to him.

He smirked. “I don’t think they ever do. Have a bunch of federal agents let loose and this is what happens.”

You nodded, thoughtful. He glanced at you, though you’d barely moved from your position next to him. You turned your head, eyes on him once more.

“Well, then what happened to us? Are we normal or just boring?”

“Maybe just tired,” he chuckled.

“That’s why you’re the unit chief. Smart man.”

He laughed, looking at you. You smiled, then backed into your seat again. He caught Morgan’s eye at that, shaking his head when he received an eyebrow raise. He looked back to his now-empty plate, trying to reign it in before anyone else noticed how head-over-heels he was.

He got up, walking into the kitchen under the guise of needing more wine. Though he couldn’t deny it might be helpful.

He stood at the counter, needing time to himself. It was cut short very quickly when Morgan shuffled in, giving him a very obvious knowing look.

“Hi,” Hotch said.

“Hey,” Derek replied, sitting in a stool across from Hotch. “What’s the deal?”

“Deal?”

“Don’t play around with me, Hotch. I see how you’ve been getting around that little ray of sunshine lately,” he said with the ghost of a smirk.

Hotch sighed. “It’s ridiculous.”

“What? Your attitude? Trust me, I know.”

He glared at that. “Morgan.”

“I say give it a shot. I can’t think of two people who deserve each other more,” he replied with a smile. “In the best way.”

Hotch chuckled. “I appreciate you saying that, but I think Y/N might be a bit out of my league.”

“Oh, no doubt about it,” Morgan said with a laugh. “Still, I think you’d be great together. Y/N’s totally into you anyways.”

Hotch furrowed his brow. “I really don’t think so.”

Derek looked at him with wide eyes. He laughed, shaking his head.

“Okay, clearly you are oblivious as hell.”

“I’m not.”

“That angel finds every chance to be around you. Looks at you the same way you look right back. Y/N’s just a lot better at hiding it.”

“Again, I appreciate that, but…”

“No ‘buts’ about it. You don’t have to try anything, but you can’t deny how you act around each other. Ain’t trying that stuff with pretty boy out there.”

Hotch leaned against the countertop, nodding slowly. He had never taken a moment to consider any of those things before, too blinded by how hard he was trying not to be obvious about his own feelings.

Derek walked up, a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey. Don’t think yourself into a hole.”

Hotch nodded his thanks, though before Derek could get another word out, you walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, you two. I was wondering where you guys ran off to,” you said with a smile.

“Just a little guy talk,” Derek state with a wink.

You put your hands up. “By all means, I can leave.”

“We’re done anyway,” Morgan shrugged. “I think Hotch could use some company, though.”

Hotch looked at him with wide eyes, receiving nothing more than a cocky smile as Morgan left the room. He straightened up as you turned to him, sipping at the last of the liquid in your glass. You set it on the counter.

“You could… Use company?”

He shook his head. “Morgan is just messing with me.”

“What about?”

“It’s nothing.”

You quirked a brow. “He seemed pretty happy with himself. Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

Hotch smirked, looking down. You circled around the counter, leaning against it next to him.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Hotch?”

He just looked at you, still not saying a word. You reached over, patting the top of his hand where it rested on the countertop.

“I’m pretty good at keeping secrets, you know?”

“You are, are you?” He asked with a smile, his dimples poking in his cheeks.

“Sure am.”

He took in a breath. “Where do you cap it at?”

“What, like how big of a secret I can keep?”

He nodded once. You crossed your arms, thinking for a moment.

“I still remember my middle school best friends biggest secret?”

“What was it?”

“I can’t tell you.”

He nodded. “In that case, you passed my test.”

You laughed, hopping up to sit on the counter. You looked at him as he stood, just looking at you like he was planning his next move.

You hummed. “You always seem so self-assured.”

“I do?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Like, you always have your next move planned. This time you don’t, though. I can see those gears turning in your brain.”

He smiled a little, nodding. “You’ve got me, there.”

“So, what is it?”

“What’s what?”

You raised a brow. “The secret.”

“You really won’t let that go?”

“Morgan was acting like he knew something. I want to know what’s causing his cocky little smile.”

Hotch cleared his throat. “It’s, uh… It’s you.”

You paused. “Okay, and what is that supposed to mean?”

He smiled again, looking away for a moment. You called his name gently, and his gaze set back on you. You gave him an assuring smile.

“It’s you,” he stated once again. “You say I’m self assured. Normally, I try to be. When it comes to you— I feel lost. I never know what to say to you.”

“Why not?”

He took in a breath. “I have a feeling you know.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I was just hoping you’d say it.”

He laughed quietly. “I don’t know that it’s a good idea. I don’t want to be responsible for the outcome.”

“You know a way to avoid that responsibility?” You questioned.

He looked at you curiously, shaking his head. You bit back a grin, holding out your hand for him. He took it, and you pulled him closer, his side against your knee. He watched you closely, and you leaned in closer.

“If you want, I could be the one taking responsibility,” you whispered.

He swallowed. “Really?”

“If you’d like,” you said with a nod.

He looked at you, unsure if you were really willing to make the next move. He nodded, finally feeling sure about it.

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his. It took him a moment before he was pushing back against you, lips locked with yours. You brought a hand up to caress his face, a thumb brushing against his cheek. He smiled at that, and you pulled back.

“See? You don’t have to take that responsibility. Easy enough.”

He chuckled. “Now who’s all self-assured?”

You paused, feigning a moment of though.

“Both of us,” you said with finality.

He nodded quickly. “I can agree to that.”

He leaned in again, a hand resting on your knee as your lips connected. You kissed a moment longer, enjoying the moment but knowing it couldn’t last. You rested your forehead against his.

“They’re going to get suspicious soon,” he said.

“Stupid profilers. They just have to be the best in the FBI,” you sighed, then laughed.

“Oh, they’re the worst,” he agreed in falsity.

You hopped down from the counter, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Maybe this can continue later over more wine and a movie?”

He nodded. “Is that a question or a statement?”

“Statement. You’re staying for a while tonight.”

He smiled. He was sure he wanted to be with you, and he was certainly sure he loved the way it felt to kiss you. He was sure about the butterflies he felt when you looked at him the way you did.

The only thing Aaron Hotchner was not fully sure of was how in the world he’d sneak it all past his coworkers.

—————

aaron hotchner taglist:

@mrs-ssa-hotch @hyunjaebaby @ssamorganhotchner @criminalskies @simp4olderm3n @sbeno22 @a-cloud-for-dreams @igotbannedfromtheasylum @missabsey @mayhem2019

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