#had to go and clear everything from it
very subtle detail but when catra spoke about the abuse she suffered in the earlier seasons, she always framed abuse as an experience that was specific to her and that adora couldn’t understand bc she was the ‘favourite’. by s5 it’s clear that catra realised that adora also suffered (it was just more subtle), note that catra had changed her attitude from “admit it. you love being the favourite” to “you’re going to follow her? after everything she did to us?”
4K notes · View notes
Lucretia is complicated. Even her victory isn’t clear.
She did the wrong thing for the right reasons. She acted out a plan for over a decade that was destined to fail. The anger she’s met with in the finale from her friends is partly because her plan won’t work. The most scientific minds among them had thought about it for a hundred years; Lucretia’s plan was never going to save them. She tried anyway. She was myopic and hasty and backed into a corner, as they all were. If no one had stopped her, she would have destroyed everything.
The judges were right, though. Her betrayal was necessary, but not because her plan was going to work. On the contrary. Her betrayal was necessary because they needed to truly face the Hunger, once and for all. They needed to stop running, stop disassociating, stop distancing themselves from the horrors that chased them for a century, and from the horrors they inflicted. Lucretia’s plan was bound to fail; it was her failure that was necessary. To get them together, all in one place, backed against a wall and facing the Hunger for the first and only time.
What a lot of people seem to forget is that it was Taako’s plan that saved them. And this, I suspect, will complicate his feelings toward Lucretia even more. He’ll tell himself that if she’d only talked to them, if she’d only listened to the wisdom of her friends, if she’d never believed the lie that she could fix everything alone, then none of the rest would have happened. He never would have lost everything. This will make him angry, a kind of righteous anger that usually belongs to his sister. He’s wrong too, of course. Taako wouldn’t have listened to anyone but Lup. As long as Lup said the relic plan was working, he would have trudged along with it, as city after city got demolished by the objects they created. He would have wished he could take a different side, but he wouldn’t have even tried. “I’m with Lup.” “Taako, you won’t even consider my plan?” “You know, I wish I could.” He was on Lup’s side, always, automatically. So Taako, too, was both wrong and right at the same time.
None of them would have come up with a Plan C unless faced with the apocalypse again. The relics were better than the Hunger. This was their mantra, repeated over and over. There would have been no reason to risk everything all over again, without Lucretia's betrayal.
And so it’s complicated, more complicated than we can really grasp. Lucretia’s arc is messy and it’s meant to be. It’s not meant to be tied up at the end with a neat, happy bow. Balance ultimately had a happy ending, but it was a complicated one too. A wedding at the site of a good friend’s death. A man, reunited with the love of his life but leaving his friends in order to do so. Whole communities, still destroyed by what they had done. An ending where they’re happy, but also one where they’re changed and adapting to this new world they created.
This is why it’s frustrating to me when people take all-or-nothing stances with Lucretia. That she was totally right or totally wrong. She’s a good person who did terrible things. She’s a good person who was desperate and traumatized and struggling. Which is true for all of them, incidentally. They are all good people who did terrible things. They’re flawed, and they’re heroes, and they’re messy, and they’re trying. That’s all they can do.
3K notes · View notes
A heart full of you.
3K notes · View notes
(Okay so I had one idea about Aziraphale and Crowley’s wings turning gray since they’re truly no longer on either side and then I thought about what if they never did the body swap thing and... ta-da!)
Aziraphale tried not to show his panic. He made himself look confident, defiant, unapologetic. Inside he was falling apart.
Worse, he was sure that down in Hell they were about to kill Crowley.
They had tied him to a chair. The room was terribly empty, just white floors and walls and windows with light that was far too bright shining through.
He wasn’t sure when the light of Heaven had become too bright for him. It used to upset him, the way it stung his eyes as he gave reports of his activities on Earth. It made him feel... as though he didn’t belong. As though he wasn’t a proper angel.
He knew now that was accurate, of course. He also knew that he didn’t mind that it was accurate. He didn’t belong, and why would he want to belong with these people anyway? The light did still upset him, but now for other reasons.
His last moments, and the final thing he would see was some overexposed angels smirking at him.
Crowley smirked at the other demons. “Nice place here. A bit bare though. Going minimalist, are we?”
He may have been about to be punished, likely never to be seen or heard from again, but he’d be double-damned if he wasn’t going to go with style. He was Crowley, after all. Everything had to have some flair to it.
“Yes, we are,” Beelzebub said, their emphasis on the we making it very clear that Crowley was not included in it. “Webuilt this place for you specially. It shall be your place of trial, and it shall be your place of destruction.”
Crowley rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. He may be dramatic, but at least he was an interesting dramatic. “So what’ll it be then?” he said as nonchalantly as he could, hoping to piss the other demons off as much as possible before he went. “An eternity in the deepest pit?”
He had a feeling that was it. Hell loved it’s torture, after all.
“No no,” said Hastur, a grin forcing it’s way onto his face. It didn’t suit him, not at all, and Crowley leaned away from him slightly. “We’re going to do something even worse. Letting the punishment fit the crime.”
Crowley became aware of footsteps echoing down the hall he’d been lead down just moments ago. Purposeful, quick, but in a way that screamed of discomfort. He turned to watch the doorway.
Micheal walked through.
“Well, that’s unlikely,” he muttered, unable to stop the words before they escaped him. He noticed the pitcher in Micheal’s hands.
So they were going to kill him then. Well, he should have expected as much. Of course...
He froze. Heaven and Hell were working together, and that meant... “What have you done with Aziraphale?”
He heard Beelzebub laugh from behind him. “You two seemed so desperate not to live without each other...”
“So we decided to do you both a favor and not make either of you go through that,” Micheal finished, unable to hide the satisfied glint in their eye. “We thought it merciful,” she lied right through her pearly white teeth.
“And we thought it would kill you to know your little lover boy was going to die because of you,” Beelzebub said. At least they had the decency to be honest about it, not like that helped anything.
Aziraphale was going to die.
Aziraphale was going to die.
“Ah, Aziraphale.” Gabriel’s voice boomed from behind. He walked into view, and Aziraphale resisted the urge to glare at him. If he was going to die, he was going to die with dignity.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be just a little sassy. Crowley would sass them. He would do his demon proud.
“You could have just sent a message. A kidnapping, in broad daylight?”
Gabriel shrugged and turned to Uriel. “Have we heard from our new associate?”
“He’s on his way.”
Gabriel grinned. “I bet you’re going to like this. I really do! And I bet you didn’t see this one coming.”
Aziraphale clenched his jaw. ‘Hellfire,’ he thinks, ‘You’ve somehow gotten ahold of Hellfire.’
And then he noticed Micheal’s absence. And a chill ran up his spine.
“You don’t get this view down in the basement!” a voice said. A demon walked over, walked on the grounds of Heaven, and smirked at Aziraphale. The demon threw his hands out, and Hellfire shot out at a small circle marked on the floor. The fire went up, twisting into a tornado, and Aziraphale could almost feel his hair singe from where he sat.
“So, with one act of treason you avoided the war. You ruined our entire plan, everything we’ve worked towards for six thousand years.” Gabriel was barely concealing his anger as he spoke.
“Well, I think the greater good-” Aziraphale tarted, knowing he was about to push Gabriel over the edge.
“Don’t talk to me about the greater good sunshine, I’m the Archangel fucking Gabriel!”
Unfortunate placing of the f-word, Aziraphale thought, but he didn’t mention it. Instead he frowned and said, “We’re meant to be the good guys, for heaven’s sake!”
“Well, for Heaven’s sake, we’re meant to make examples out of traitors. So, into the flame.”
The ropes around his arms were removed, and Aziraphale stood up. He straightened his bow tie, his hands shaking more then he thought they ever could. He swallowed. “Well... lovely knowing you all. May we meet on a better occasion,” he said, giving them a small smile, determined to take the high road.
“Shut your stupid mouth, and die already.” Gabriel gave the most ingenuine smile ever to exist.
Aziraphale’s own smile fell away. He looked at the fire and closed his eyes. He stepped in.
Crowley watched Micheal pour the holy water into the bathtub. She could have just miracled it full, but no. No, they had to make a show of it. He could appreciate that, to a degree, but all he could think about was what was happening up in Heaven.
Micheal poured the last of the water. She left the room, and Beelzebub grinned. “Go ahead. Any last words?”
Crowley looked at the tub. Holy water... this was really it. He was... he was really about to die. Forever. He pushed down his feelings and smirked. “This is a new jacket, and I’d hate to ruin it.”
He pulled his jacket off, and his pants, watching as the other demons rolled their eyes. At least he was irritating them. He took his glasses off last.
“Go on already,” Beelzebub prompted. “Or I’ll have Hastur push you in.”
‘I’m sorry Angel,’ Crowley thought. And he got in.
Aziraphale had expected agony. He had expected intense burning, the pain of having every atom of your being burning up, just unspeakable pain.
He hadn’t expected it to feel rather like a sauna. A sauna that was a bit too hot, but a sauna nonetheless. He cracked his neck and sighed. It was almost nice, really.
He opened his eyes. He still had eyes to open, which was very unexpected but he couldn’t complain. Gabriel and the other angels in the room were staring at him, wide-eyed, all of them much farther back then they had been when he’d stepped in.
He smiled at them. His wings felt especially warm, and they stung quite a bit.
“It may be worse than we thought,” Gabriel said.
Aziraphale’s wings stung more, and began to hurt a bit. He brought his wings in front of him.= to see what was wrong.
They smoldered at the tips, the feathers smoking and graying. He watched the fire flick at his feathers, white singeing to gray, the smoke of the bottom feathers staining the ones higher up.
They were... a soft gray, somehow. Almost silver. The tips of the feathers on the edges were a dark, smoky gray, but the rest were light, pleasant. He rather liked them.
Maybe... maybe if he was okay, he could dare to hope...
“Well,” he said. He looked up and beamed. “It seems that The Almighty has other ideas for me.” He wasn’t sure if that was true, but he wanted the other angel’s to believe it. “Thank you for the fire, I was feeling a bit chilly. May I take my leave now?”
Gabriel nodded, slowly, his lips parted in shock. “I think that would be best.”
Crowley flicked the water at the window, watching with glee as the demons behind it scrambled away. Even the walls sizzled where the water hit them.
But he was fine. His skin was a bit red and irritated, but he was fine! “I don’t suppose anyone here has a rubber duck?”
Hastur just stared, not blinking. Beelzebub and Dagon had both stepped back to avoid Crowley’s splashing. “He’s not one of us, anymore,” Beelzebub said.
Crowley brought his wings out, just to see how much they’d spray the water everywhere with their unfurling. But as they curled around him in order to fit in the tub, he noticed something.
As holy water dripped down his wings it left streaks, streak of gray amongst his other pitch-black feathers. The water stayed clear and pure, but it was... almost like it was washing his wings.
Hastur made a choking sound. Beelzebub ran to the window, where all the demons of Hell (or at least, the ones who were best at shoving through crowds) were gather, watching with open mouths.
“What are you looking at! Nothing to see here, nothing to see!”
Crowley leaned back into the tub. He stared as his feathers lightened in the water, becoming a dark gray, like a stormy cloud. They were even lighter in the places that the droplets had dripped down, streaks of near silver.
He grinned. Oh, he grinned.
Because perhaps, perhaps, if a demon could survive a bath in holy water, an angel could survive Hellfire.
Of course, he wasn’t really a demon anymore, was he?
“I came for the- oh, Lord.” Micheal froze, mouth agape.
Crowley was still grinning. “Micheal! Miracle me a bath towel, would you? This has been nice,” he hissed the last word, “But I think I’m done.”
Micheal handed him a towel, pure white and fluffy as can be. She jumped a bit when he reached out to grab it.
“I think,” he said, sitting up and flicking holy water at the remaining demons in the room, “That it would be best if I was left alone for a while.”
Hastur had backed away so far that he was pressed against the opposite wall, his hands opening and closing like he was trying to claw through it to get even further away. Dagon and Beelzebub stood to the side, still, silent. They nodded. Crowley turned his yellow eyes to Micheal, who smiled nervously and nodded too.
Crowley smirked. “Right.”
Aziraphale shut the door to his bookshop and leaned against it. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he slid down. He miracled the door locked and curtains closed.
He brought out his wings to look at them again.
They were... quite beautiful, in his opinion.
The darkened edges of the outer feathers, the way the lighter ones were pale but still clearly not white, the way they gleamed like silver when the light hit them but seemed to be a simple soft gray when it didn’t...
They were not the wings of an angel, but not the wings of a demon, and he quite liked that.
He stood up and walked to his phone. He was still shaking a bit, and as he dialed Crowley’s number it got worse.
What if he had been wrong, and the demon hadn’t...
He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He wouldn’t allow himself to go there.
He was just one number away from calling when he heard the door open, and a familiar voice shout “Angel!”
His heart raced. He dropped the phone and ran into the main room. “Crowley!”
Without a thought he ran at the demon and pulled him into a hug. Crowley froze, stiffed, but after a moment he hugged back.
They’d never hugged before. But Aziraphale didn’t care, and clearly neither did Crowley. They held each other for a long time, just... happy.
Finally Crowley pulled away, gently, and Aziraphale did too.
“Angel,” Crowley said, taking off his glasses. “I- I’m glad you’re okay.”
“And I’m glad you are, my dear.”
Crowley’s eyes shifted, and Aziraphale realized that he hadn’t put away his wings. “Ah, yes, it um, it seems the Hellfire had a bit of a... a side effect?” he tried. “I quite like them, truthfully.”
“I do too,” Crowley said. He stepped back and smiled. “What do you think of mine?”
He got out his wings, and Aziraphale gasped. They were a beautiful dark gray, with streaks of lighter gray that, Aziraphale noted with surprise but joy, matched Aziraphale’s own.
“They’re gorgeous,” he breathed. He laughed a bit. “Do you think... do you think this is because we’re on our side now? Do you think She may have had something to do with it?”
“Who know? Who cares? We’re free, Angel. We can do anything!”
Aziraphale looked his demon, or whatever he was now, in the eyes. “Anything,” he repeated, grinning. “Well... how about we start with lunch? At the Ritz?”
Crowley grinned back. “Sounds good to me.”
(I am very proud of this! Look at these boys! Living it up! After this the Ritz scene from the show happens, and yeah! They just go about happy! Whoo-hoo!)
2K notes · View notes
Neighbors -pt.1 | pjm
Pairing: Jimin X Reader (neighbors!au/stalker!au )
Synopsis: Finally achieving your successes in life you never expected the distraction that came with your new hot neighbor. He however, had been trying to get your attention for a much different reason.
Warnings: stalker, switch!jimin, dom!jimin,sub!jimin, noona kink, SMUT, allusion to forced actions (never LET anyone tell you WHAT you feel comfortable with kids), oral (female and male), masturbation, raw penetration (practice safe sex always!), cum shot, manipulation, fingering
Genre: smut /neighbors!au/stalker!au NOONA KINK
A/N: There is plenty of smut in this, I don’t know what i was thinking, but yeah 18+- this is a one shot, but who knows?
pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt.3 - pt. 4 - pt. 5 - pt. 6 - final - epilogue
The last 7 years had been the most challenging for you to survive, but somehow you had made it through. Staring at your master’s degree through the clear glass of the frame made you feel such a sense of pride at the successes you had achieved. Turning, you hang up the frame on the wall in the new office of your new apartment. As a newly freed woman you were ready to start life fresh from distractions since school had consumed your entire life. Tomorrow you started your new job and nothing was going to keep you from becoming your best self. It had taken you two days to move in and unbox everything. Perhaps you were a bit more excited than you had originally thought. You had lived at home with your parents for as long as you could in order to save and prepare for life and they were more than welcoming.
Now, all alone, you stood back to admire all that you had accomplished on your own, which suddenly reminded you that you were going to be all alone. Not wanting to leave room for loneliness you get the idea to take a walk and get to know your new neighborhood, maybe that would clear your mind.
It seemed to work because you were even more in love with your choice of place to live.
The surrounding parks and restaurants were amazing. Everything you could ever need was within walking distance to your apartment. The only time you’d need bus transportation would be for work, but that was also within walking distance. Walking up to your apartment complex with take-out in hand, you make your way to the elevator ready for a night of food and binge watching your favorite show.
As you walk into the elevator you turn to press the button to your floor when you hear a muffled shout that sounds like “hold it”. Trying to decipher who it’s from you look forward at a man with dark black hair carrying groceries in both hands with his mail in his mouth running towards the elevator. No wonder you couldn’t make out what he had said. Reacting you press the open doors button. The man immediately sighs in relief that he wouldn’t have to drop his bags just to press one button. He tries to put his mail into one of the bags he was carrying, but accidentally drops a letter. Seeing his turmoil you bend to pick it up and so does he. Looking up at each other at the same time you can now see his whole face without the mail blocking your view and you suddenly feel all the air fly out of your lungs at how handsome he is. The smile he suddenly gifts you sends you flying. Had you never seen anyone smile that beautifully before?
“Thanks so much, I’m always so clumsy.”
His voice is practically sweet honey pouring into your ears. Did this man live here, because if he did, you’d have a terrible time not being distracted.
“Oh you’re welcome. I’m sorry I didn’t see you.”
”No, it’s ok, I should have waited for the next ride, but..”, he gestures how he can’t use his hands by shrugging his shoulders.
“Yeah, I see.” You giggle at the face he makes.
“So are you new here? I don’t recall your face?”
“Ugh, yeah I just moved in...”
“Oh yeah? Well I’m at apartment 5E if you need anything. I’m real good friends with the security guard and he sometimes lets me chill on the roof. I get all the perks.” At this he winks at you and his underlying meaning wasn’t missed.
“Ok, thanks.” You were starting to feel nervous in such a confined space with such a handsome stranger.
“So.. you said your apartment was..?”
“I never did.”
You really didn’t know him and you weren’t about to reveal so much about yourself to a stranger. At that moment you reach your floor and you walk out of the elevator in a hurry embarrassed that you had just sassed someone you barely met.
Jimin wasn’t going to take your response for an answer and immediately uses deduction to observe the floor you had just walked off into. “Hmm, fourth floor huh?” Jimin made a mental note.
Your first day at your new job had gone amazingly well- you had even made a friend. Finally getting home, you step off the bus and what you see has your mouth dropping. Your new neighbor is jogging down the street with no shirt on and his skin is glistening in the sun as if he’s been kissed by the gods. He doesn’t notice you so you try to hurry and get into your complex before he does. Sighing in relief you press the button to your floor. The elevator doors are just about to close giving you a false sense of security until a hand catches the doors before they close. The doors open up and the demon incarnate steps in. He’s wiping the sweat off his face with the towel he has around his neck. He hasn’t looked up at you yet and thank god for his ear buds because he wasn’t able to hear the sharp gasp you take in. He looks up and everything goes to hell in that moment. He smiles wide and predatory like he knew what he did to you even before you did. It’s like he knew exactly what to do to ruffle you up.
“Hey, um, wait..ugh, sorry I never got your name.”
“It-it’s Y/N.” Shit you stuttered. Again he smiles as if he knew he’d just gained a whole set of points in this match of “who bends first” you both somehow started.
“Y/N, that’s really beautiful, I’m Jimin. Well now that we’ve officially met, I hope we can see a lot more of each other.”
He moves a few inches closer and you’re sure you can feel his breath on your face. You can feel your face turn ten times hotter and you’re pretty sure your blush has made its way down to your neck.
“You’re on the 4th floor, right?”
The leverage you had once had pertaining to your personal information suddenly disappears as you feel your resolve weakening at the devastating smile he sends your way - you gulp. The words fly out of your mouth quicker than you could contain them.
“So I’m right on top of you?” The way he lifted his eyebrow and smirked gave you the immediate impression that he’d meant that in more than one way.
“I guess you are, I won’t be noisy, so you won’t have to worry about that.”
“That’s too bad, I don’t mind a little noise.” There he was again bordering on the inappropriate comments. Now you were truly blushing and before you could respond the ding of the elevator came just in time to save you.
Practically running out of the doors you don’t even say anything to him as you leave. Daring to glance back you catch him standing looking like a whole damn meal with his hands over his crotch. Was he covering up his arousal? You immediately hightail it to your apartment, open your door, lock it and lay against the cool wood attempting to regain your composure.
“No distractions, no distractions.” Rubbing your temples you chant this over and over hoping to ingrain it into your soul.
For the next few weeks, as much as you tried to avoid Jimin, he was always crossing your path. Even though you tried to act annoyed you secretly loved it and he could see it in the way you responded physically to him. Your eyes would dilate and your skin would break out in goose bumps. He’d always watch how your breathing become more rapid and how you’d rub your thighs together. Each and every encounter was tortuous. The secret little glances he’d send your way paired with his seductive smile took every ounce of your strength to resist. The best moments were when you both entered the elevator.
Somehow your schedules always coincided making your encounters more frequent and all the more expected. Accidental brushes of the skin became a delicious part of your routine. Sometimes you’d speak to each other and other times you both played this immature game of tease and tempt. The honest truth was that the sexual tension was getting out of hand and neither of you dared cross the line first for fear of each other’s reaction. Jimin seemed interested in you but there were times when you were not responsive to him.
He wasn’t sure what you were playing at, but only you knew the echoes you’d hear from the vents above your bed that connected to his apartment...what sounded like a girl being fucked out of her mind. You never saw anyone, but Jimin seemed like the type of young man who needed to quench his sexual appetites often. Some nights you’d close your eyes and imagine the girl being you. You would slide you hands down your belly to the ache between your thighs imagining Jimin between them you’d bring yourself to release. You didn’t want to become just another of his escapades. You both lived in the same building and you didn’t want to make it awkward if it didn’t work out.
Getting into the elevator you’re greeted by his beautiful face yet again.
“Hey, Y/N. You look really beautiful this morning.”
Today was one of those days where you weren’t in the mood for Park Jimin. You were so over being teased by him that your frustration levels were off the charts. How dare he think he could conquer you when he was just taking a girl last night?! You were getting tired of his games.
“Hey, are you alright?” He seemed so genuinely concerned that you almost felt bad for a minute, suddenly you turn and just spill everything at once.
“No, I’m not ok. For the last few weeks I’ve been hearing nothing but the sounds of horny hookers whining with their annoying voices through my vents and frankly I’m tired of it! How can you prance around playing with me when you’ve got a new bitch in your apartment every other night!? I don’t like to be played with Jimin, so no, I’m not ok!”
At this Jimin starts laughing, in fact he’s laughing so hard he bends over with the force of it. You were really not having this bull today. You look at him with all the wrath you could muster in your eyes and say, “Fuck you Park Jimin.”
At this he stops laughing.
He stalks up to you like a predator ready to devour you whole. A slight fear courses through your veins at just the look in his eyes that borders on anger and something else..was it desire?
“What a little mouth you have on you, Y/N. Maybe you need someone to help you tone down that little attitude of yours.”
He moved quicker than you could react and pins you to the elevator wall with his body trapping you, both of his hands next to your head.
“What are you-“ you can’t speak because he cuts you off. His hand moves to cradle your cheek ever so gently caressing it.
“Shhh...why is my noona so angry?”
The tone he uses on you suggests he’s trying to manipulate you. It’s pure seduction he’s playing at and you’re losing.
Swallowing you don’t know what to say. You had been angry thirty seconds before but now your blood was running to places in your body causing you to flush prettily before his eyes.
“I’m not angry, it’s just that..I-“
In an instant he moves his entire body so that his chest is pressed to yours allowing his face to be inches from your own. His mouth is achingly closing in on yours and you can’t move - you don’t want to. You can feel his length pressing against your core as he speaks his next words.
“You what, noona? Are you jealous? You think that I want to be with those girls? I only fuck them to rid myself of the torment it is that I have to endure whenever I see that sexy little ass of yours. I want to take you each and every time, right here, against this wall, on this very elevator, but you never give me a clear sign as to whether or not you’d let me fuck you as I’d like.”
Every word he speaks is slow and calculated. He watches your each and every reaction to the words he has just said. It amazes him to know that he could make you crumble so easily. It’s strange to admit that in these few weeks of barely knowing anything about him, he has managed to seduce his way into your life.
Trying to muster up the courage you speak in the smallest of voices. “I don’t want to be used like those girls...I- I need more.”
“Is that so? You know noona, every time I was with one of those girls I thought only of you- of what I would do to your pretty mouth. I’d love to ruin it. You’d like that wouldn’t you, to feel my cock pulsing between these lips.”
Before you could respond the elevator doors open and he immediately detaches himself from you and walks out without looking back. This game was getting out of control. You were not one to be messed with. Angrily you chase him down the hall to give him a piece of your mind now that you remembered why you were angry in the first place. Too late you realize that you have just walked to his apartment door. He reaches his door and turns around sensing your presence behind him. He’s standing there staring at you daring you to speak.
“If you think that I-“ your final words were swallowed whole by Jimin’s tongue. The kiss is desperate, all teeth and tongue. He manages to turn you around and press you flush against his door pressing his entire body into you. Your mind is racing and telling you to run, but your body is completely ready to surrender everything to this man. Jimin sneaks his knee between your legs and pushes against your core. You gasp at the feeling and he takes his opportunity to speak.
“I’m sorry noona, but I didn’t catch that.” (he presses harder ) “Could you please speak up?”
“Jimin, please, don’t...”
“Don’t what baby?”
“ I can’t.. don’t want..”
“Don’t want what baby? This?” His hand comes up and unbuttons your jeans while you’re still panting your resistance. When he shoves a hand down into your panties, you immediately surrender whatever shred of stubbornness you had left.
He starts to grind his palm against your core and you open your legs wider for him. Dripping onto his hand, you realize you’ve just granted him access to ruin you right outside of his apartment in the middle of the hallway.
Jimin chuckles as he licks his way up to your ear to whisper, “Nothing to say now? That’s what I thought ,noona.”
Within seconds his front door is open and he has you once again pressed against the other side of the door. His hands are momentarily out of your panties as he gives you a desperate look that you don’t quite understand. Hadn’t you already allowed him to do what he’s been wanting for weeks?
“Jimin, are you okay?”
“Yes, but noona, can I please eat you out? Please...I want to taste you so bad!”
A character change you were not expecting as he gets on his knees and looks up at you with pleading eyes. “Please, wanna eat my noona out soo good.”
You’ve never really been exposed to this side of Jimin, but it was turning you on like nothing else. He’s suddenly switched his in control persona to this needy boy. Trying to figure out how to proceed, you start rolling your jeans down your legs slowly. His eyes follow your every move. Reaching your ankles you kick them off and stand before him in your underwear and t shirt.
“Take off your noona’s panties, baby” At your words Jimin’s eyes grow huge as if he couldn’t believe you were following along with his wishes. He’s wanted you so bad, but wasn’t sure whether you would respond to this.
He lifts up his hands and grabs the seam of your underwear pulling them down . His eyes are on your core causing you to try to hide behind your hands, but Jimin stops you.
“No, please noona, you’re so beautiful.” He pulls your hands away and looks up at you once again making sure that you were allowing him to proceed. Without speaking you open your stance wider and this was all the permission he needed. He grabs you at your inner thighs and spreads them wider dipping his head right between your thighs. He inhales deeply and you almost die at the embarrassment, but Jimin assures you when he looks back up at you with eyes that have somehow become darker and more dangerous.
Taking one of your legs over his shoulder he moves in to your core and licks a long stripe all the way up to your belly button. “Delicious.” Just those words make you lose your mind and your juices start to flow again.
The slow and tortuous pleasure he is producing is making you go insane. His tongue is moving in and out of your pussy like a trained professional while he holds your hips against the wall preventing you from bucking into his face. He makes his way up to your clit and presses against it firmly with his tongue. You have a hold on his luscious black hair as he works you in and out.
You feel a prodding against your hole and relax to let his finger slide into your desperate body. Jimin moves in and out while flicking his tongue ruthlessly against your clit.
“Oh, noona, cum all over my fingers. I wanna taste it, baby. Please oh please.”
Your chest is heaving trying to find the breath you lost the minute he lowered himself between your legs. How had you gotten to this point when you were so determined to deny him everything.
Jimin starts with another finger then adds another. Three fingers in, you were a sobbing mess and he did not relent on your core.
“That’s it , you’re almost there, you’re so good to me noona...my tongue is ready to taste you.”
Angling his fingers he finds the right patch inside of you and rubs at it until your legs have completely given out. Your orgasm hits you hard and your body shudders as you cum all over Jimin’s mouth. The liquid won’t stop flowing and Jimin is taking it in while supporting you on your shaky legs.
You collapse against his shoulders bending at the waist, then suddenly drop down to your knees in front of him.
Jimin looks at you right in the eyes as he takes the fingers that have just delivered you your high and licks them clean.
“My noona tastes so sweet, want to taste?”
He brings his fingers to your mouth and you lick them off completely disregarding your pride.
“You made such a mess on my floor, baby, was that all for me?”
“mmhm” You can’t speak.
“Do you see now noona? I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted you, not those other girls. Come here, baby”
Jimin stands up and lifts you into his arms walking you to his bedroom. He sits you down on the bed and removes your shirt and bra without asking. He knows he’s got you now.
“You’re so fucking perfect. Your mouth is so fuckable. Do you think I could fuck it just a little?”
Jimin starts to unbuckle his jeans and brings his cock out. It’s gorgeously thick, hot and angry red at the tip. He’s standing above you and his character has seemed to change. The man who was once on the floor begging you for a taste is now looming above you holding his cock in his hand ready to destroy you.
He brings the tip of his length and rubs it against your lips. His precum coats your lips and you bring out your tongue to lick it off. This move was a mistake because suddenly Jimin grabs you by your hair and shoves his dick into your mouth. He’s barely at your throat when he stops and glares at you, eyes looking down.
“Baby, I want you to take a deep breath and keep your eyes on me the whole time, is that understood?”
You hum your response which sends the vibration down Jimin’s cock. “Good girl.” You take in deep breath and before you could adjust he’s shoving himself deep into your throat. He brings you all the way to his pelvis as you try to relax and not pass out from the restriction of air. He starts to build his movements in and out of your mouth, first going slow and then faster. He’s driving his dick so far down your throat while moving your head back and forth through the control of his grip on your hair. Just as you’re about to tap his thighs for air, he brings himself fully out of your mouth. You gasp for air as saliva drips down your chin.
“You’re such a good girl for me, let me help you get cleaned up.”
He kisses you savagely biting your lip in the process then licking up the drool on your chin.
“I’m sorry, noona, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just need to come in our pussy, not in your mouth. Would you let me come in your pretty pussy, noona?”
“please..” Your throat is raw and there was nothing more you could say, you wanted him inside you so bad.
Jimin moves you up the bed and strips off the rest of his clothes. His crawls his way up your body kissing his way up your thighs, over your belly, and to your chest. He makes sure to take care of how much attention he gives each breast massaging one while the other was getting his mouth’s attention. He makes his way up your neck and then kisses you in the most tender fashion. You could almost say you felt emotion in that kiss, but you’d only known him for such a short time.
“I wanna make you feel so good..I wanna feel your skin..” You feel his length rub against your pussy. Sliding it up and down he’s creating a delicious friction that tempts to you grant him whatever request he lay before you.
Jimin moves his hips back and forth fucking himself with your lips as he tenderly brings your nipple into his mouth. His mouth moves up to your neck where you can feel him leaving tiny stains of purple. He brings his mouth up to your ear as he’s nearly got you unraveled, and begins to manipulate you with that same sound he used before that got you into this mess.
“Noonaaa, please let me feel you inside just once, promise I won’t cum, pleaseee.”
He’s rutting desperately now and you are lost in pleasure at the sensation he’s creating. He doesn’t ask again as he suddenly let’s his cock slide into your core. He pushes it all the way in without stopping until he reaches the hilt. You were not expecting this sudden move since you had not given him permission to enter you raw. You groan at the intrusion feeling utterly defeated.
“Jimin, I’m not on- ugh..the pill..I-”
You’re worried, but your traitorous body won’t allow it as your face twists into that of complete bliss at the feel of the width of Jimin’s dick. His slow torture inside of you feels amazing, and you can’t find it in yourself to resist him.
“Ohh noona, but you feel sooo good, nghh..don’t know how long I’ll last.”
Wrapping your legs around him you hold onto his shoulders as he pounds into you. He’s as desperate as you are to reach your peak. His cock is swelling with each thrust he gives and you can feel the ache that will be manifested in the morning.
“Jimin, please be careful, don’t cu-- ugh”
Being the expert seducer that he is, he pushes faster and harder into you. You’ve lost your words and your breath. When he sees you are at your weakest, he begs.
“Oh god, I can’t hold it , oh please let me cum in you just one time. I just wanna fill you up soo bad. It’ll be ok, noona, I promise, don’t you want my cum, please, noona!”
You don’t stop him nor do you resist physically , so Jimin takes this as his right to claim you as he fills up your pussy with all his cum. He continues to drive his cock into you as he unloads completely.
He rolls over and brings you along with him. He snuggles into your neck and whispers, I love you, hoping that you didn’t hear him. Ever since he saw you at college 7 years go, he’s wanted you. He’s followed you every where you’ve ever gone after that. He was so glad you had finally moved to your own place where he could have you to himself for always.
You lay back satiated and slowly coming to your senses. What in the world had this man done to your state of mind. You didn’t want any distraction and yet here you were in the bed of a man you had just met. You feel his cum slide out of you and realize what you had just done.
Jimin turns you over and smiles at you. Now you remember why you had let him do it. He moves his hands over your body and over your hips.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Let me take care of you.”
The hands that were on your hips move down and in between your legs. You jolt at the sensation and tenderness you already feel.
“Shh, I promise it’ll feel good...trust me..”
Slowly he brings two fingers up and into your cunt. He moves in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace using the cum as lubrication. He brings some of his load out of your pussy and uses it to rub over your labia. Tenderly he massages away his actions from earlier. He brings his fingers up to your clit and starts working away your stress. He’s well aware that you’re going over what has happened in your mind, but he wants to make you forget, to make you his.
“Ugh Jimin, I don’t think I can, it hurts..”
“Noona, be a good girl and take it. It’ll feel good in just a minute, I promise.”
He works your button slowly over and over again until he has you broken and undone before him on the bed. Moving up he kisses both your eyes and nose. Silently he gets up to get a warm towel to clean you up. You just lay there completely weak and exhausted. You let him take care of you and soon drift off to sleep.
Jimin lies awake next to you the entire time wondering how he got so lucky to finally have you. He’s been sick of fucking every which bitch he could find just to get you out of his mind. Grabbing his camera, he silently takes picture of your naked body while you sleep. Slowly he pulls back the covers and opens your legs carefully. He would be keeping this picture for a time when he missed you the most. Smiling to himself, he puts away his camera and falls into a peaceful sleep by your side.
-- Part 2
↳ All works are ©️ jkeuphoriadreamland
Do not upload, copy, translate, steal any of my works.
2K notes · View notes
Ruby’s Leader-Arc is shaping up AMAZING
“Ozpin told us the lamp can answer three questions, and that all the questions were used up.”
Okay, so this is EXACTLY the kind of complex leader issues I was hoping to see out of Ruby this Volume.
To be clear, Ruby keeping info about Ozpin and the Relic from Ironwood IS shady, and may very well have been the wrong call to make. And Ruby knows this. But she had to make a call. Ironwood just showed off this plan that is super shady and could go all kinds of wrong, so of course Ruby doesn’t tell him everything.
I have to give ALL the props to the animators because you can actually SEE the conflict play out in Ruby’s head and see her weighing her options all through this bit.
Also, you can actually see Ruby regret her decision a little after Ironwood gives the Relic back to her. Basically he shows more trust in her then she has in him, and she knows this.
You can even see how this immediately plays out with Ruby effectively fully signing off on Ironwood’s plan and putting herself and her team(s) completely at his disposal. It basically reads as Ruby saying ‘I’m going to try and trust you as much as you seem to trust me.’ Which might actually put her a step above Ozpin...
Basically, Ruby is getting set up for an AMAZING character arc this Volume and I am HYPED to see it play out.
I also have to wonder if Ironwood guessed that Ruby wasn’t telling him everything and giving her the Relic was actually a subtle power-move to get her to trust him more.
2K notes · View notes
A/N: This is my very first Spencer x Reader imagine and I hope you guys enjoy! If this flops... Anderson wrote it.
Description: The Reader is an agent with the D.C field office and met Spencer on a case. (Think of it as Emily meeting Andrew Mendoza but set in season 11) After dating for a few months the Reader is unexpectedly transferred to the BAU. This calls for sneaking around.
Character Appearances: Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Andrew Mendoza
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds (I wish I did). I also wrote this between 11:30pm - 1:45am, please forgive me if this isn’t perfect!
Female Reader! x Spencer Reid
(Y/N) - Your Name
(Y/L/N) - Your Last Name
Word count: 1,116
Posted: September 29th, 2019
As your alarm went off you heard Spencer groan. You giggled as he wrapped his arms around your waist, “How about we just stay inside all day? If you say yes, you can keep the red cardigan you hid from me.”
You smirked, “Spence, we live together. I know you found that cardigan weeks ago.”
He buried his face in your neck, “Please,” he whined.
“Nope!” You pushed his arms off from around your waist and peeled off his oversized Cal Tech t-shirt, “Mendoza said I had to come in today, told me it was urgent.”
“Any idea why?” Spencer asked.
“No idea.” You shrugged. After you and Spencer finished getting dressed you grabbed your gun from the gun safe and passed Spencer his, “I’ll call you later, I love you,” you gave him a quick peck on the cheek, he smiled, “I love you too (Y/N).” After that, you headed out the door.
As you walked to your boss’s office all of your coworkers gave you bright smiles and you could not figure out why. You reached Mendoza’s office and knocked, “Come in,” you opened the door and saw that he had the same exact smile as the rest of your coworkers.
“Have a seat, (Y/L/N)”
You were starting to get anxious, “Sir, what is this about?”
He gave you another smile, “I heard through the grapevine that the BAU at Quantico was looking for another agent and they asked me to recommend someone from this office. (Y/L/N), I recommended you.”
You let out a chuckle of disbelief, you had a million thoughts going through your head, you had no idea how you were going to tell Spencer, “Sir, I am so incredibly honored.”
You shake hands and he waves you off, “Your desk has been cleared, Agent Hotchner requests that you start now.”
You nodded, “Thank you, sir, for everything.”
As Spencer walked into the bullpen he saw his team huddled together facing Hotch’s office.
“Hey, what’s going on?” He asked.
“Pretty Boy. Turns out we have a transfer” Derek replied.
“A transfer? Do we know who?”
“No idea. I hope they’re nice!” Penelope chirped.
The rest of the team hummed in agreement. After exchanging theories about the new agent they all looked up to the sound of Hotch’s office door opening. Hotch exited his office and cleared his throat, “Everyone, this is Agent (Y/L/N), she is a transfer from the D.C field office. I’ll let you all use this time to get to know each other.”
Spencer could feel all the blood drain from his face as he made eye contact with his girlfriend, at the same time they both shook their heads slightly, a silent promise to keep their relationship quiet.
It had been 1 month since you’ve joined the BAU and you loved it, you loved the team dynamic and you loved the work. Although you would never admit it, you also loved sneaking around with Spencer. Sneaking around like teenagers made your relationship stronger even though it was risky. You two had already briefed Hotch on your relationship and he agreed to let the rest of the team figure it out on their own terms.
You both knew it was a matter of time until you got caught. You two just didn’t know who would figure it out first.
It was JJ who figured it out first. For the past couple of months, she had noticed a change in Spencer’s behavior, messy hair, wrinkled clothes, and secret phone calls. She noticed a huge change when (Y/N) joined the team. JJ noticed the secret smiles, flushed faces and the smallest of touches. It was then when it finally hit her, Spencer and (Y/N) were dating.
JJ smirked to herself, she was going to have a field day.
On most days, Spencer and (Y/N) were the last ones to leave the office. For them, that meant that they could act like a couple freely instead of sneaking around, little did they know, they weren’t alone.
JJ, Penelope, Emily, and Rossi watched the security cams from the Batcave, they all wanted to believe JJ’s theory was right, but right now, all they had to do was wait.
“Hey, Pen, where is Morgan?” Emily asked.
“He’s in Chicago this weekend visiting his fam- Guys! Look!” Penelope exclaimed.
All heads faced the screens as they watched Spencer and (Y/N) look around and pull each other in for a heated makeout session in the conference room.
“I knew it,” JJ smiled. The entire team was happy, they were happy that Spencer had finally found someone that was his light in the darkness.
(Y/N) hummed against Spencer’s lips and pulled away. With her lips a little red and swollen she smiled, “I wonder what the rest of the team is doing now?” She said aloud.
“Well, my new OTP, we were watching you,” Penelope announced. You and Spencer jumped out of each others arms as you both turned to see four of your team members smiling sheepishly.
“H-How? W-why are you guys still here?” Spencer asked incredulously. You, on the other hand, were still struggling to form words, your mouth opening, and closing like a fish.
After the team explained themselves in a fit of laughter you and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh yourselves.
“How are you guys going to tell Morgan?” Rossi asked.
You and Spencer looked at each other and smiled, “We might have an idea.”
When Derek came back to work the plan was all set. Emily, JJ, Penelope, Rossi, and Hotch watched as Derek came into the bullpen.
“Where is Pretty Boy and Little Mama?”
“They should be here soon,” Garcia smirked.
Morgan furrowed his eyebrows “what is going on?” he mumbled.
All heads turned to the bullpen doors as (Y/N) and Spencer walked in. As (Y/N) settled down at her desk she and Spencer locked eyes and gave each other a quick kiss.
“WHAT IS GOING ON?” Morgan yelled, “Did you all not just see that?” He looked around at the rest of the team who seemed blind to what was going on.
“Is there a problem Morgan?” You asked.
“Yes! How long has this been going on? How long have they’ve known? Why is Pretty Boy getting laid and I’m not?”
“7 months, 23 days, and 14 minutes. The rest of the team found out when you went to Chicago. To answer your last question, Morgan, I must have more game than you thought.” Spencer smirked.
Morgan’s expression left the team in a fit of laughter.
2K notes · View notes
like crashing waves
Love comes to you like waves crashing upon one another.
REQUEST. mutual pining au + best friends to lovers + breeding kink
CONTENT/WARNINGS. beach sex, unprotected sex, fingering, titty sucking, smut, nanami being a sweetheart <3 + the mandatory unedited note!
NOTES. thank you for requesting and joining the milestone event! I hope you like this <3
Your squeals echo as you run out of the car, arms flinging behind you with your best friend, Nanami, trailing behind you. His brows furrow upon seeing the familiar scenery of a light ultramarine sky, the sound of crashing waves calming upon his senses. His gaze falls on your waving form, figure jumping from the sand as you call out to him. Your smile is a lot brighter than the sun right behind you, and captivated, he follows your motions, his hands falling into the spaces between yours before allowing you to tug him closer to the beach.
“You brought me here,” he announces a little dazed, subconsciously gripping your hand tighter. “You remembered.”
“Of course I did!”
This isn’t just some regular beach. This is the place where the two of you first met when you were both little, awkward stubby legs running around the sand and scooping sand castles. As always, Nanami’s been more of a timid child, frowning at how you splashed on the water, uninterested with simpler tasks like the one he’s busy with.
When you see him silently enjoying himself, you trudge up to him. His hands immediately come up to protect his castle, having had his other friend Satoru kick and destroy them one too many times.
He’s surprised when you only gasp in awe, carrying your own plastic shovel and helping him build a bigger one afterwards. Your connection was natural – instantaneous.
Everything goes downhill from there. Despite living in another town, your family kept close contact, leading to you enrolling into Nanami’s middle school and staying solid all the way until he has to go attend Jujutsu High. He’s made it clear that he wishes to not be too attached to anyone or even get a wife, firm in his belief that he doesn’t want to hurt anyone by leaving a loved one behind. You, though? He makes an exception for you.
You’re his best friend and everything more, the one who pulled him away from being a salary man and telling him he could be capable of doing something wore instead of just fattening his bosses up while he does all the hard and honest work.
Nanami isn’t...cynical, per se, but he has a painfully honest outlook in his life while you’re more of the type to enjoy the little things, claiming that it’s never a sin to be happy despite the darkness looming. He’s been so used to you being a lot brighter and more cheerful than him, total opposites, really, that when the tables have turned and you’re the one holding his face as you scold him to save people and be the hero he is, he can’t really find it in himself to refuse.
Until now, he’s surprised you’re taking his profession extremely well. You never once blinked when he told you about his abilities and even takes away a fly head off your shoulder once, jumping in his arms instead to thank him.
He wonders how he ever came lucky enough to find someone like you, one that he actually cherishes more than he values the rules he’s set to keep himself in line.
Nanami doesn’t get the chance to think any more when you start stripping in front of him, your bubbling laughter syncing perfectly with the lapping of waves when you fling your clothes at him. He regrets ever letting you meet Gojo; you’re naughty, but never this pressing. His glare is half hearted as you run straight to the beach, however, and the blond man sighs.
His birthday was planned perfectly down to a tee. He’ll invite you over to celebrate, spend the silence and read books with you, have coffee, cuddle, and call it a day.
You had other plans in mind the moment you barged into his room though, dragging and pushing your friend all the way inside your car. His queries are silenced by the blasting radio, the man leaning back in his seat as his fingers tap against his thigh, wondering what you had in mind. There’s never really any telling with you and your spontaneous habits, so he just closes his eyes, allowing his blond hair to be swept away by the wind.
The last thing his wildest dreams could ever imagine is you taking him right back where everything started, his hands deft and careful as he unbuckles his belt. His cheeks tints a little because you never gave him the chance to pack, save for you throwing in hoodies and random underwear into a duffel bag.
Nanami folds both your clothes on the sand, shivering a bit from the chilly liquid. He glares at you once more with a tired sigh, about to ask how you have so much energy after driving for four hours straight when you splash water on him.
He is silent in comparison to your mocking laughter, waddling all around him until you’re whisking the water at every direction of his body.
Nanami stands there still like a statue, eyes closed to prevent the saltwater from hurting him, his hair sticking to his skin. His muscles are tense the whole while, preventing himself from just reaching over – not yet, anyway – for you were still too far away. But your guard is lowered, forgetting for a moment that your best friend is a jujutsu sorcerer and he’s spent years honing his senses until he’s mastered them to the extremity of his capabilities.
As your laughter grows closer, the splashing turning harder as it pads against his skin, Nanami opens his eyes and grabs you by your wrist hard.
You let out an ‘oop’ when he effortlessly pulls you into his chest, your forehead knocking against the solid muscles of his chest. “Ow!” you rub your forehead, lips formed into a pout and about to complain when your eyes snap wide open, the first thing in sight his pecs. Clearing your throat, you try to push yourself off him, suddenly completely aware of his warmth and his other hand sliding down your hip, lower, lower, and lower. “Nanami—”
His voice is low, a tinge of warning behind his words. Guiltily, you glance down at your wrist wrapped around his large, bony hand, noting the size and strength difference between the both of you.
You don’t want him to see you’re flustered – even if it’s painfully obvious already – so you snicker up at him, tilting your jaw upwards until he’s looking down straight at you. Nanami cocks an eyebrow in challenge, awaiting what snarky response would leave your lips when you smirk, using your free arm to splash on him one more time.
Nanami reels back when the water shoots straight in his eyes. Okay, you have to admit that maybe that was a little mean, but you’re having so much –
You’re immediately hoisted up into his arms, the water sliding off your body and the ground slipping off your feet. Panic rises in your system when you’re lifted off the seafloor, hands desperate and slippery as you cling onto his broad shoulders. “N-Nanami!” you protest, clinging to him like a koala when he only smirks, walking farther until he’s reached a spot he knows you can’t reach. “Hey, that’s cheating, put me down this instant!”
“Do you really want me to do that?”
Nanami knows you’ve surrendered to loss when you huff, leaving you with no choice but to wrap your legs around him tighter, nails subconsciously gliding down his back. He stiffens at your movements, brows furrowed as he ponders if bringing you here and rendering you helpless really is the best idea.
You’re pressed so close to him until space becomes nothing but a myth, your breathy intake of air wafting into his ear like bait. Nanami tightens his hold on your grip a bit, his swallowing audible at the feeling of your breasts pushed and flicking against his chest.
Fuck, of course you’re wearing your best bikini.
Nanami tries to push those lewd thoughts at the back of his head, drilling into his mind that you’re his best friend and you’re untouchable. He opts to stare beyond the horizon instead, train of thought too distracted of not letting himself be distracted by you that he doesn’t notice you pulling away to look at him.
He’s brought back to life when your wet palm caresses his cheek, thumbs smoothed over his cheeks. Nanami’s gaze flickers back to you, a sigh on his lips as he presses closer, daunting enough to leave a kiss on the crook of your palm.
That snaps something inside you.
You take his breath away – literally – as you cup his cheeks with both his hands, panting as you dove straight to his lips. Nanami’s reaction comes like reflex, both hands cupped under your ass as he meets your kiss with the same hunger and longing that has always been blossoming between the both of you the moment you both knew what love meant like.
Nanami’s groans are masculine and low when you begin to grind down on him, teasing as you push your breasts harder against his chest. Your nipples are hard enough that he feels the pebbled buds grazing across his chest, the sensation sending blood rushing to his cock.
He pulls away, cock swelling harder when he sees you all breathless with lips bruised. There’s something about knowing he’s the cause of you nearly falling apart like this, his mind wandering off a dangerous path at the fantasy of what you’d look like if he does something more.
The voice at the back of his head is responsible to keep him in his reigns, something he’s more than thankful of; otherwise he’ll completely ravage you senselessly at this moment.
“Do you really want our first time together to be out here in the open?” he rasps with short, quick pecks while you whine in his arms, the desire for that something more an aching and almost painful image on your face. “Won’t you like it more if we’re behind closed doors...” he brushes a thumb on your lip, coaxing your lips to part for him obediently. Nanami clenches his jaw when you eagerly suck at his thumb, your eyes dark and hazy with lust as you swirl your tongue around his digits. “...and I’d get to do whatever I want with you?”
“Are you going to hold back if we’re here?” you tease, popping his thumb off with a loud and wet pop. “It’s kind of romantic, don’t you think? The sun is setting behind us and it’s just the two of us anyway,” your words are breathy, panted and needy in its manner of delivery. Really, you can’t think straight anymore, not when his fingers are grazing over the swell of your ass and his face is bathed by the golden glow. Right now is perfect. “I just really want to be with you.”
You shudder when Nanami finally tugs your underwear to the side, the feeling of his fingers smoothing over your inner thighs and just hovering right where you want him to be enough to make you go crazy. You’re shaking, panting, almost crying.
Who knows how long you’ve wanted him – you’re simply too impatient if he plans to take his time with you.
A demand is ready to fall from your lips to just get him to take you already, but Nanami beats you to it, his pointer finger grazing against your slit. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, gritting his teeth the moment his thick, long finger sinks into you beautifully. Your head falls back in a moan as he pumps his fingers inside, testing the waters, and your pleasure is only amplified with the struggle of him trying to quicken his pace under the sea. “You’re so wet already.”
“Shut up, I-I wasn’t—”
“You’re beautiful,” Nanami growls, taking you by surprise when he takes two fingers to spring the knots of your top away. You gasp when your top slides off at the curve off your breasts before your erect nipples are revealed all for him, hard and swollen while he inserts another finger in your heat.
Clutching harder on his shoulders and bouncing yourself off on his finger, Nanami’s self control is tethering dangerously across the edge.
He leans down to suck at your breasts dutifully, fighting against the water that’s surrounding you both. “You’re extremely beautiful,” he praises, “Thank you – for letting me have you this way, for trusting me,” An elongated groan falls from both your lips when he sinks you down on his cock, your heat a great and mind-numbing contrast to the chill of the water. “I think you’re the best birthday gift.”
“Always so romantic, Nanami,” you managed through a laugh, allowing him to fuck into you senselessly. You’re all over him, hands wrapped around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair and tongue swiping out to taste the saltiness of the water on his skin. He’s amazing, so fucking good, and you snap your eyes shut while the soft, crashing waves match the rhythm of his thrusts. “No one could blame me for falling for you.”
“You are?” he grasps your ass until he squeezes it hard enough to make your walls clamp down on him, your grunting muffled by the teeth nibbling his earlobe. “Do you love me?”
“For so long.”
Nanami smiles even if you can’t see it, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll just have to show you, make you feel the words and emotions weighing heavily at his heart. Nanami leans sideways to capture your lips in a wet kiss, hands heavy and harsh compared to his passionate kisses as he keeps bouncing you up and down his cock. He’ll just have to show you.
“I’ll make up for the lost time then.”
You’re wearing your favourite hoodie of Nanami’s as you stand before the counter, stirring both mugs with your hands wrapped around it to warm you up. After your lovemaking session that has turned into more than two rounds, you’re downright spent, the both of you too tired to drive back home and opting for a hotel instead.
The aroma of coffee along with Nanami’s scent lingering on his clothes brings a smile to your face, your heart and skin still fluttery from today’s event.
Just then, strong arms wrap around your waist, soft lips coming down to press at the apples of your cheeks. You giggle in his arms as Nanami sways you both side to side, his head resting on your shoulder.
“I love you,” he announces quietly, so softly and tenderly as if it’s a secret only you’re allowed to know. You already became aware of his feelings – he’s shown it enough – but hearing it come from his own lips feels different.
Growing up, you always believed that love would come to you rapidly, overwhelmingly. But as Nanami swoops down to kiss you once more, his lips tasting faintly of the cake you both got on the way, you realize love is more like the soft crashing waves that comes gradually, slowly, yet constantly until you’re surrounded and it consumes you whole. It buds and grows larger until the crashing waves expand into an ocean of feelings that can’t even comprehend the depth of what you feel him, and you kiss him hard, embrace him hard – you just want to show him.
2K notes · View notes
Bucci Gang | Body Swap Headcanons
|| i’m just chilling w/ my phone right now and im choosing to do my next request later today so for now super lame pt 5 headcanons inspired by the body swap fiasco but like ... let’s say it was a different stand that did it and no one died/is missing.
WARNING — fem s/o ! it’s not too sexual but sorta ? in a comedic way more than spicy. i guess also pt 5 spoilers too !
Bucci Gang | Body Swap Headcanons
- When Bruno had stopped stumbling and was no longer disorientated from the enemy’s attack, he was certainly confused as to why no extreme damage had come to him. He was really counting on the sensation of a thousand stab wounds to cover him like a sheet and yet, he felt perfectly fine. Glancing down, he still wanted to check for any externel injuries but his plan was quickly halted when he saw clothing and hands that certainly didn’t belong to him.
- “What... What is this?!” He’s nothing if not confused, much smaller than his own hands patting all around his body until they paused at his ( if he could say that ) chest. In seconds, his face blew into a bright red colour as soon as the realisation of him being in a woman’s body hit. With his clever perception, Bruno had also come to recognise that the clothing he was adorned in was strikingly similar to [F/N]’s, meaning one thing ...
- “Bruno Bucciarati, what the hell are you doing?!”
God, it gave the man whiplash to see his own face scruched up with anger while his body marched towards him. The small pink tint on his own face had confused him however, if that was you then maybe you were just embarrassed of him being in your body or vice versa? Now that he thought about it, he really hoped you hadn’t done anything scandulous as him, not that he suspected you would.
- When you suddenly slapped Bruno’s, or your’s really, hands away from their position, he was quick to understand your fury. He had just technically groped you in a way. “Wait, wait, it’s not as it seems! I’m sorry, [F/N]—”
- After a rushed explanation and excuse for his actions, and a what his theory of the stand’s power was, the two of you agreed that you should start to look for the enemy and get back to your own bodies soon for both of your sakes. Bruno did appreciate the soft comfort he had to grip on temporarily though.
- The drastic change in perspective that Abbachio had five minutes ago to now left him horribly bewildered. Why was everything so much taller now ? He was certain that he wasn’t lying nor sitting down.
- All he could do was confusingly turn around and look up at everything around him to try and figure out what was happening. Was he shrinking? That was a possible answer but why wasn’t he going down any more?
- The answer to his dilemma was clear when you, in his body, approached him frantically, hands gripping his shoulders and having to lean down so that you could both be face to face, inches away from each other. Had your minds not been switched, Abbachio was sure that he would have been a little more flustered than he was dumbfounded. “Abbachio, look at us! Our minds ... they’ve been swapped and I’m— I’m- so tall, holy shit.”
- Poor Abbachio had to watch you do what he had done earlier, looking around the whole area with wide eyes and total shock. You just couldn’t believe how different things looked! Oh, was this how Abbachio saw you? Jeez, maybe you should be more careful with how you part your hair if he can see too much of it.
- His jaw dropped when you started to check him out, pulling at the strings connecting his v-line while peering down to see his chest and stomach. You let out a low whistle, clearly impressed by what you were seeing, “damn your physique is good. I didn’t know you worked out, Abba!” Please kill him now before the embarrassment does first. Again, if your minds had not been swapped then he would be relishing in your praise but it was incredibly hard, and annoying.
- “Stop that, damn it!” He yelled at you, his shame worsening when he realised that his tone didn’t come off nearly as scary as it did when he was in his own body, in fact you were even laughing a little at him. Well, if you wanted to play it like that... Abbachio moved his hands to have one placed on your body’s backside and another on your breast, his anger momentarily diminishing when he squeezed both. Fuck they were soft—
- “Oh hell no!” You cried, now as equally as bashful as Abbachio was. Sure you got a little bit too curious but you weren’t touching his body up! With a huff, you mimicked his move to the extent that you placed both hands on his ass, suddenly pausing when you came into contact with it. “SIR, wHERE IS YOUR ASS?”
- He’s fucking dying on the inside; he can’t do this. Someone please take him out of his misery because he can not handle being in the body of the girl he was super into.
- Fugo in all honesty didn’t try anything funny while in your body but the shame of it was too much. On one hand, he was grateful that it gave him a chance to admire the cute little imperfections you had such a scars and small spots on your arms that he hadn’t notice from his usual distance from you, while on the other he was afraid to be stuck like this forever.
- When he finally found you, the idea of you also looking over his body, as he had done with your’s to a respectable extent, flustered him greatly and he struggled to get any words out at first, “we should, uh, really find that enemy stand user. ahem.”
- “Yeah! You’re super cute and all, Panni, but I really want to be back in my own body, it’s more comfortable for me! Plus, your fashion style isn’t really my go to.” You laughed softly at your last comment, taking hold of Fugo’s hand to guide the two of you into a rough guess of a direction to where the enemy stand user could be. Meanwhile, the ‘cute’ comment replayed a thousand times like a broken record in Fugo’s mind, both a faint blush and smile taking over him as he nodded and followed your lead.
- When Mista or Narancia asked him afterwards if he had done any ‘research’ while in your body, he threatened to kill them both as he tried to stab both with cutlery. During that, you were covering your face and internally screaming at the idea of Fugo seeing the more private side of you, especially when you would rather show him on your own accord.
- Since the situation was a lot less life threatening than the Chariot Requiem one, Narancia was a lot more comedical about it. Sticking his temporary body’s hip out, he placed a hand upon it while another weaved it’s fingers through the hair that could only be called your’s. Narancia batted his eyes exaggeratedly while placing on a high pitch voice, poorly impersonating you.
- “Ooh, Mr Narancia! Please, take me!” He mockingly begged, strutting towards you that in a fashion that made you want to burst out laughing and shrivel up in shame since it was your body that was looking absolutely ridiculous. Wrapping his arms around your neck, it allowed you to notice the height difference that he had to see on a day to day basis but that was hardly a main thought when he started to rub his cheek against your’s. “You’re just so studly and handsome, my body just needs your touch!”
- After a pregnant pause, the two of you erupted into laughter, wheezing and coughing as though you were being choked out. If the stand who had done this to you both wanted you dead, then it was certainly working seeing as you were both soon to die of laughter. Wiping a tear away, your giggles died out and you gently whacked Narancia over the head, which would have been a regret for future you if it was any tougher. “You’re so silly, Narancia, we should be looking for the stand user not messing about!”
- “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he whined, still having to force a few laughs down. “I think my impression of you was pretty good though, right?” He jokingly winked at you only for his expression to falter to surprise when you sent a more flirtatious one back, stroking his cheek faintly while you walked past him to start your search.
- “Oh, it was brilliant, you know what I want so well!~”
- His actions were incredibly similar to when he realised that he was in Trish’s body, when he instinctively placed his gun into where the front of his pants would be only to realise that it didn’t rest upon his crotch just quite the same.
- After frantically groping at the soft breasts he had seemingly grown and complaining that he was missing the best part of himself, Mista noticed that his own face was looking at him distraught and embarrassed. “Mista... You’re in my body. [F/N]’s.”
- Mista apologised quickly once you said that, now understanding the situation. You both had swapped bodies! How could he have not noticed? Especially when it was your body, something which he had discreetly checked out a few times before, since well c’mon. You were like a goddess.
Speaking of, Mista was sure this was actually a Heaven of some sorts since he had full control over what he did with your body, which was kind of exciting! At least, it would be if you weren’t there to judge his movements.
- “Ugh, Mista you stink,” you complained, raising an arm to your nose to take a whiff only to gag instinctively at the scent that violated your senses. Seriously, who wears a cashmere sweater with a wool hat in Italy? The amount he sweats must be ungodly! The hat was seriously starting to get itchy too, leaving you no choice but to take it off dramatically with a cry from Mista.
- “Hey, I’m not that bad!” The gunslinger argued, snatching the hat from your grasp so he could reach up and force it back onto his hair, hiding the thick curls that had momentarily escaped from their woollen captivity. Scoffing, you turned your nose up and looked to the side, refusing to look at him, “it is and you know it. If we’re stuck like this all day then I’m seriously going to have a shower for you.”
- Mista smirked at that. It was a weird look to see on yourself but it still made you fluster at your own words and his overactive imagination. “Oh? I mean, if you wanted to see my body that bad then you could just ask, babe. I wouldn’t mind showing you,” he cooed, snickering when you shoved his face away with a ‘shut up!’
- Giorno was massively taken back when the situation the both of you were in were clear. He was in your body and you in his. This stand ability ... seemed so incredibly useless. Granted, it left the two of your flabbergasted and frantic for a while but in the end you both adjusted pretty well to the change and were read to take down the stand user.
- You were a little curious though, reaching up to play with the buns in Giorno’s hair and stroking a finger over the lady bugs on his attire. Not to mention is ‘boob window’ as you jokingly called it, much to his dismay. “You’re pretty brave to wear something like this, Giorno,” you told him, glancing into a nearby shop window to look yourself over, even secretly admiring the blond’s good looks. How could he look so good and not even act like a primadonna? “Plus, you make it look good.”
- Giorno hummed in response, arms wrapped over his chest as he stood a feet or two away from you while still being able to side glance the window to see his own reflection. He was certainly flattered by your praise and could easily repay it tenfold seeing as he thought you were stunning both physically and as a person, yet his mind was too focused on finding the enemy. “Mh, grazi, you could make it look good too,” he murmured, not really thinking too hard over his words since he didn’t think it was the time.
- “I would?” You choked out, wheezing a little at what he had said. Wearing an outfit like his in your actual body would give you a very ‘out there’ look, one you’re not sure you could even wear in public. “I mean, I’m glad you think so but I didn’t take you the type to say something so bold so suddenly, Giorno...!”
- That pulled him from his thoughts. “Hm? What do you mean, I just meant you could look good in anything, I mean,” he then made a gesture to the reflection in the window, smiling softly, “I’m not blind, I stand by what I meant.”
- Gulping, you nodded slowly, averting your eyes from his since you were certain he would be able to notice a blush on his own face. “Oh I see, it’s just I thought you meant you wanted me to have the boob window look too,” you laughed, nervously scratching your cheek.
- “Oh, no, no! I didn’t mean- Well, I’m not saying it’d be a bad look on you but I just meant-” Giorno, a typically well composed person, was stuttering like crazy, unable to even look at you much like you. Really, the both of you were messes.
- “It’s fine, it’s fine. Let’s just get going, yeah?” You reassured, placing a hand onto Giorno’s or uh, your’s shoulder. Nodding, he smiled and agreed, “we should before the user escapes, and you know if I’m right, they must be somewhere around...”
- Trish was just as shocked as you were when she realised what was going on! You both had a screaming session until one of you calmed down, taming the other’s screams until the two of you caught your breathes.
- “How -?! Did that guy from earlier do this?!” Trish panicked, looking up at your desperately with your own eyes, which was little off putting at first since it was so weird but you looked past it and shrugged. “I mean, that’s the only thing that makes sense, right? Right now we should really be looking for him to swap back.”
- “Yeah, you’re right,” she nodded before immediately marching off to find the stand user, you quickly catching up to her and walking along side her. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Trish spoke up suddenly, your head turning to the side to realise that her hands were moving up and down your hips while her eyes were glued onto your body.
- “Woah [F/N], you look great! I mean, your hips are so nice and you work these clothes so well!” Her praise made you chuckle a little, the flattery warming your heart. Looking down at yourself, you already knew Trish looked amazing so repaying the compliment was no feat.
- “Thanks hon, you’re beautiful yourself, y’know? I mean, you’re so slender and pretty after all.” Trish blushed at your words, gently slapping your arm while giggling like a teenage school girl. “Oh stop, I don’t need you to be nice back, I just wanted to tell you what’s been on my mind for ages now!”
- “Is that so?” You asked, surprised that Trish thought so highly of you and even thinking that you were hearing things for a second. Honestly, you were pretty sure you were going to go have a heart attack from how quick your heart was beating - to be praised by someone so pretty, sweet and loveable was something you couldn’t fathom yet it was still happening. “Well I’ve always thought you were pretty anyways, not to forget amazingly kind and badass for sticking through all of this!”
- From there, the two of you spent the rest of your search praising each other and by the time you found the stand user, your bond had grown strong enough to land an amazingly co-ordinated attack, to which you both returned to praising each other over.
- Once you met up with the rest of the Bucci gang, the rest of the boys were pretty much ignored for the day as the two of you either held hands or linked arms together while chatting about similar interests and making plans to one day go shopping or to a cafe together once everything was over. Narancia was allowed to join in every now and then though, to which Mista complained over.
2K notes · View notes
What really strikes me about the Russos and their ridiculous “no resurrections!” thing is that we’re finally seeing the authorial wank that characterises the comic book industry come to comic book movies.
When we’re talking about superhero comics, we’re talking about characters that have, in many cases, been more-or-less continuously in print for eighty years and counting. During that span, any given character may have been written by hundreds of different writers, and depicted by hundreds of different artists - and those are just the ones who got paid to do so in some official capacity. While certainly these characters evolve over time, their sheer depth and breadth of publication and the cultural inertia that goes with it makes it absurd that any one author could make sweeping changes by simple fiat.
And yet there’s always That Guy - and it’s always a guy - who thinks he’s the exception. Some fucking self-proclaimed auteur who thinks he’s so damn brilliant that his work is the culmination and conclusion of everything that’s come before it. He’ll make sweeping changes to the personalities and motivations of well-established characters and expect everyone who comes after him to be beholden to it, or kill off fan favourites and honestly believe that this means nobody’s allowed to use that character ever again.
Of course it never sticks, and you cannot imagine the pissing and moaning you’ll hear from these jokers when it becomes clear that subsequent writers are just going to blithely ignore it all.
Up to this point the MCU hasn’t had a sufficient body of continuity to enable this sort of behaviour, but now... the wank is coming. Mark my words.
1K notes · View notes
I was assigned to a very high-profile print project commissioned by a well-known hotel brand to promote their new wedding venue, specifically targeting Indian couples.
Our client represented the marketing department of this hotel and was based in Singapore.
Client: We want to expand our market in India, so we need an ad campaign that understands Indian culture.
Me: Well, I’m Indian, our company is based in India, and we’ve done a lot of research into Indian advertising demographics, so you’ve come to the right place!
Client: Excellent. Here is what we want…
The client briefed us, and it quickly became clear that they had little knowledge of Indian design motifs, popular color schemes, and culturally-significant characters that should be used when targeting an Indian audience. Everything they were insisting on was very Chinese, and wouldn’t have appealed to the audience they were trying to court.
We tried to guide them away from their initial requests, offering multiple drafts that reflected our research and cultural experience. They were all rejected.
Client: You keep turning in this work which is unacceptable. We’re not going to pay you for these drafts. It is clear to use that you have failed to understand Indian culture.
My boss, a 30-year veteran, then decided to drop this client in what was her studio’s first ever failed project.
1K notes · View notes
A Stolen Choice (Alpha!Nomad!Steve Rogers x Omega!Reader)
Summary: When your aunt dies and leaves you everything she owns in her will, you find yourself travelling to the mountains of North Carolina to her cabin in the middle of nowhere to sort through her belongings. But you also quickly find yourself helpless against the desires of a mysterious alpha who’s decided to claim you as his...
A/N: Hello! I wrote this fic for one of my ko-fi readers! Click here if you’d be interested in donating. There’s no pressure to whatsoever, but everyone who donates will be able to request any type of fic they’re interested in. Message me if you have any questions! In the meantime, enjoy this fic! Be warned: it contains rape, dub-con, breeding kink, a/b/o dynamics, and nomad!Steve. Enjoy!
You hadn’t really even known your aunt very well; you’d met her three, maybe four times over the course of your life, and while she’d always been incredibly sweet, she’d never really stood out in your mind as one of your closest relatives. Therefore, you were surprised to say the least when you were informed, after her death, that she’d left all of her worldly possessions to you in her will.
“Wait, there… There must be some kind of mistake,” you’d told the banker, shaking your head. “I wasn’t even that close to my aunt. I don’t understand…”
“I can send you a copy of her will, if you would like to see for herself,” he’d told you in a disinterested tone. “She also had a letter she wanted you to read; perhaps that can shed some light on the matter for you.”
The letter, as it turned out, did manage to enlighten you; it arrived at your apartment about a week after you’d first learned about your inheritance, and it revealed more about your aunt in just a few sentences than you’d ever known about her over the course of your life.
To my niece:
If you’re reading this, then it means my cancer finally got the best of me. It was a long fight, but rest assured that I’m glad it’s over; I’m a tough woman, always have been, but cancer is even tougher, and I’ve been tired of my uphill battle with it for a long, long time.
I know we never got to know each other well, hon. But you always stood out to me – you’re stronger than people give you credit for. I know most of our family’s judged you for being an omega; hell, I’d even made assumptions about you before meeting you. But you managed to prove me wrong, and for that I love you.
Don’t stop being yourself, and don’t let the family get you down. The only thing you need in life is you. But I’m sure the twenty grand I’ve saved up won’t hurt, either.
Her signature was scrawled across the bottom half of the page, and you found tears in your eyes as you read the letter for a second time; no one, not even your parents, had been that accepting of you after you presented. Your entire family was made up of alphas and betas, with only one or two omegas popping up along the way. And while they’d all still loved you, their disappointment upon learning of your status as an omega had still been loud and clear.
But your aunt evidently had believed you to be strong, and you felt more determined than ever to prove her right.
And so, here you were, navigating the treacherous, narrow roads of western North Carolina, your knuckles white as they gripped your steering wheel and your nerves frayed from the lack of guard rails, fences, or really any kind of separation between the road and the twenty foot ravine sloping down along its length.
“Ok,” you breathed, focusing your eyes straight ahead. “It’s fine; everything is fine. We are not going to go over the side; we are almost there. We can do this.”
Along with the twenty thousand now resting in your savings account, your aunt had left you a cabin she and her late wife had built about ten years ago. Ever since your aunt’s wife died in a car accident, she’d lived in their home in the middle of nowhere, and no one in your family had ever been to visit. Everyone had joked about her being a hermit, and while you’d never laughed along with them, you’d had to agree that she only seemed to come to family gatherings if they coincided with a funeral or a wedding. But now, as you made your slow, steady climb up to the address of what was now your cabin, you couldn’t help but wish she’d decided to be a hermit somewhere else.
“You couldn’t have chosen a beach house,” you huffed. “Or a sensible condo in the city. You had to live up in the boonies with black bears, coyotes, and the ghosts of lost hikers.”
But finally, after a long and tumultuous journey, you were able to see the outline of a building from between the trees. A grin spread over your face and a triumphant exclamation escaped your lips, and as soon as you found yourself parked in front of your aunt’s former home, you threw yourself out of your car and threw your arms up.
You languidly stretched your limbs, touching your toes and then bouncing a bit on your heels before stiffly retrieving your suitcase from your trunk; you’d been stuck behind that wheel for several hours, and if you ever drove again, it would be too soon.
You had to admit, though, that the property was lovely. Your aunt had lived in a charming little A-frame cabin with a green tin roof, and if the chimney was any indication, a cute fireplace would be waiting for you inside. It was currently right in the middle of spring, and the trees sang with the songs of birds and cicadas. Honeysuckle grew in thick bushes along the side of the driveway, and little patches of wildflowers were dotted along the plush green grass.
“No one will be able to hear me scream all the way out here,” you mused to yourself as you walked towards the front door. “But at least it’s pretty.”
You fit the key into the lock and gave it an experimental twist, and the sound of the lock clicking almost drowned out the snap of a twig from somewhere close by. Almost.
Feeling the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, you turned around, scanning the forest for the source of the sound. You suddenly felt, distinctly, as if you were being watched, and you set your suitcase down before taking a step forward.
You didn’t receive an answer, and your ears strained to pick up on any other suspicious noise. But, after waiting for several seconds, your shoulders finally slumped, and you turned back towards the door.
“Must’ve been a squirrel or something…”
After nudging the door open, you struggled to pick up your heavy suitcase, oblivious to the pair of blue eyes watching your every movement. Your admirer closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, catching a waft of your scent on the breeze as you finally managed to shove your case passed the open doorway. A quiet growl escaped his chest as he opened his eyes once more, just in time to see you turn and close the door behind you. His ears registered the sound of the lock sliding back into place, but he knew that it wouldn’t be able to keep him out.
It never had been able to before.
You didn’t even know where to begin. You knew that you were supposed to go through everything of your aunt’s and decide whether or not you were going to sell it, but you hadn’t expected the act to feel so…wrong. Even though she was long gone and had left everything to you, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that you were throwing away someone else’s things without their permission.
And so you put it off; instead, you spent your first day simply taking inventory, going through the house and trying to learn more about your aunt in the process. You sorted through her storage room, finding old, dusty boardgames and random little trinkets lining her bookshelves. Your favorite things were the pictures, though – she had so many hanging up on the walls of every room in the cabin, all of them containing photos of her, her wife, and their families. You were shocked to see your high school graduation photo among their ranks; you’d had no idea she’d even been sent a copy.
After your little self-guided tour, you went through her refrigerator and threw everything within it out, plugging your nose as you did; she’d been dead for only two weeks, but the food your aunt had left behind had already, for the most part, spoiled. The only things that were still in date were a half pack of bacon, six eggs, and a few frozen pizzas tucked into the freezer. From there, you went upstairs to the loft-style bedroom and washed the sheets on her bed, and then you unpacked your things until the sky started to turn the pink and orange hues of a sunset.
Luckily, your aunt had a huge supply of canned goods, and so after opening and microwaving a can of Chef Boyardee, you retreated to perhaps your favorite part of the entire cabin – the back deck.
Your aunt had built her house on a piece of land that sloped steadily downwards from the driveway, and so the deck was situated on stilts that allowed it to overlook the ravine several feet below. It gave you a panoramic view of the forest, with the sloping peaks of the Appalachian Mountains rising in the distance. Down at the bottom of the valley, a creek trickled by, and the soft sound of its babbling served as soothing background noise for your evening meal.
After you were finished with your pasta, you sat back and closed your eyes, inhaling deeply. There was something blooming nearby that smelled intoxicating – like cedar and sandalwood and musk. Your mouth watered at its sweet, masculine scent, and you found yourself wishing that you had a candle that smelled like it.
You jumped when, once again, you heard a twig snap, followed by the sound of bushes rustling from somewhere close. You sat up, peering over the deck’s fence to try and pinpoint its source.
Setting your empty bowl to the side, you stood up and walked closer to the edge, peering out over the woods. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; maybe it had been a possum. Or a skunk. Or…whatever else that lived in the mountains of North Carolina.
You were ready to turn away when you saw it – a flash of movement to your left. Frowning, you leaned over the side of the rail, and your eyes widened when you caught a glimpse of blue from between a patch of brambles.
“Hey! Hey, are you ok?”
You watched as whoever it was froze in place, and you glanced back towards the sky; you could just make out the outline of the moon, and the pinks and oranges had faded to red and violet.
“Hey, are you lost? It’s starting to get dark out; I would head back if I were you.”
Slowly, the person stood up and picked their way out of the brush, and when they turned towards you, you realized that it was a man. A very tall man. A very tall man with a beard, a gun strapped to his belt, and two very impressive biceps.
“Uh… Hi,” you called out once again, this time sounding significantly less sure about yourself.
“Hi,” he called back, raising his hand in a wave.
“Um… Whatcha doing over there?”
“Oh, I was, uh… I was hiking,” he explained. “But I think I got lost somewhere along the way. Could I borrow your phone?”
You hesitated, watching as the man started making his way up the hill, covering a large amount of ground with each of his long, confident strides.
“Mine died a while ago,” he went on, lowering his voice as he grew closer. “I was debating whether or not to disturb you; I know meeting a strange man in the woods probably isn’t what you were hoping to do this evening.”
Finally, he was standing directly in front of you, though the ground was about six feet beneath the floor of the deck. You looked down at him and chewed your lip, debating whether or not to help him. He looked nice enough, and he sounded genuine, but you’d said it yourself earlier – no one would hear you scream this far out.
You opened your mouth to answer him, but that was when it hit you – the smell from earlier. This time, it was much stronger, and it was then that you realized why the scent had hints of musk in it.
It was the scent of an alpha – an alpha about to start a rut.
Your blood ran cold, and you backed away from the deck’s fence as if it had burned you.
“You need to go,” you told him, watching as his smile abruptly faded away. “Right now. Or I’ll call the police.”
“Look,” he sighed, holding his hands up. “I know that this looks like; but I promise I don’t wanna hurt-“
“I don’t believe you,” you interrupted, and a cold flash of annoyance crossed his handsome, somehow familiar features. “Please, just go. I don’t want any trouble. But I will call the cops.”
The alpha sighed, setting his hands on his hips, and for a long moment the two of you were silent. The sound of the crickets that pervaded the forest seemed to rise up in a crescendo as he studied your face, but his voice seemed to drown them out as he spoke next.
“I wonder how long it’d take the police to get all the way out here.”
Your eyes widened at that, and you stumbled backwards when he suddenly jumped, pulling himself up onto the deck as if it were the easiest thing in the world. You let out a squeak and turned around, dashing to the door and yanking it open. You were just barely able to get the door shut and locked behind you before the stranger was standing in front of it. Your heart sank as you stared at him through the glass, and he arched an eyebrow, tapping his fingers against it as he stared you down.
“This doesn’t have to be hard,” he called out, his voice muffled but just loud enough to make out. “I really don’t want to hurt you. Just let me in and we can talk – I promise.”
“Is it really that surprising that I don’t believe you?” you yelled back. “Please, just leave. My alpha will be here any minute!”
You knew that was a lie – you’d never even had sex before, and you definitely didn’t have an alpha in your life. But maybe this man didn’t know that; maybe he wouldn’t call your bluff.
But all hopes of that flew out the window when he let out a laugh, shaking his head.
“You’re a horrible liar,” he remarked. “You’ve never even been with an alpha before; I’d be able to smell your innocence from a mile away.”
Your cheeks burned and you turned away, reaching into your pocket for your phone.
“Last warning, shithead,” you called out. “I’m calling the cops right now.”
Finally, the smile dropped off of his face, and he let out a deep sigh. Holding his hands up in surrender, he took a step back from the door, bowing his head in mock-respect.
“Alright,” he conceded. “Alright; I guess I’ll go ride this rut out with a more receptive omega.”
His eyes flashed as he turned away, and you watched as he walked to the other side of the deck. He leaned over the rail despite the fifteen foot drop just beneath it, and you watched as he turned towards you over his shoulder.
‘See you soon,’ he mouthed, and then he threw himself off the deck.
With a surprised cry, you stared blankly at the spot he’d just been standing in, and after a pregnant pause you tentatively opened the screen door, stepping out cautiously. You had 911 pulled up on your phone with your thumb hovering over the dial as you stalked towards the fence, and after swallowing thickly, you leaned over its side, searching the forest floor for any signs of the creepy alpha.
But there was nothing – he wasn’t, as you’d suspected, laying there with two broken legs from the fall. No, in fact the only sign that he’d ever been there at all was the frantic beating of your heart and the lingering scent of his oncoming rut.
You woke up three times during the night. The first time, it had been right before midnight, and it had been for no reason at all. No sound had awoken you, nor had a bad dream. After several minutes, you’d gone back to sleep, tossing and turning until waking up a second time.
It had been around 1:30 in the morning at that point, and it had taken you over an hour to sleep again. You kept thinking that you’d heard something from downstairs, but your late night paranoia told you not to go down and investigate.
The third time you woke up, it was a few minutes before 5, and you immediately knew that you weren’t alone. You felt a presence leaning over you, could hear his soft breathing. You froze, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to keep breathing at the same pace you had been while sleeping, but then you heard a soft, gravelly chuckle from close by.
“I know you’re awake, omega.”
You already knew that it was the alpha from before, but still you opened your eyes and sat up, clutching the covers to your chest as you looked up at him.
He was wearing the same clothes from before, except his gun holster was nowhere to be seen. Your phone, too, was gone from its usual perch on your nightstand, and your blood went cold as you breathed in his warm, overpowering scent.
“…Please,” you heard yourself whisper. “Please, don’t do this. I-“
“You shouldn’t have been so rude earlier,” he remarked, lowering himself down to sit on the side of the bed. “I would’ve rather not had to break in, but you left me no choice.”
You swallowed, tensing up even more when his eyes flashed down to your throat to track the movement. He looked so familiar now that you were so close to him; you just couldn’t put your finger on where you’d seen him before.
“Who are you?” you asked, and at first you thought that he hadn’t heard you. He made no reaction, and you opened your mouth to voice your question once more.
“I said who-“
“My name is Steve,” he interrupted you. “That’s all you need to know.”
You bit your lip and nodded, glancing over to the stairs, and then to the window. You knew, though, that you had no chance of running. He was standing between you and the staircase, and the window wasn’t even open. By the time you’d be able to pry it up, it would be too late; he’d be on you in a matter of seconds.
“Listen, Steve,” you started, forcing yourself to make and maintain eye contact with him. “I… I know this probably doesn’t mean anything to you, but… you were right earlier. I’ve never…been with anyone. And I don’t have an alpha. I’ve been waiting to find the right one for so…so long. Please, I’m begging you, don’t take that choice from me. I promise I won’t tell anyone I saw you, and I won’t make any trouble. Just…please don’t do this.”
He seemed to consider your words, and for a few moments you felt a spark of hope rise up in you. He tilted his head as he regarded you, and you silently willed him to leave you alone, to forget any of this happened.
“I didn’t think there were women like you around anymore,” he eventually murmured. “Some omegas these days don’t even settle down with an alpha, which was unheard of back in my day. And if I had a dollar for every time a cockhungry bitch in heat had thrown herself at me only to leave once she’d had her fill, well. I’d never have to work another day in my life.
“But then you show up in my life – innocent, pure, and loyal to an alpha you haven’t even met yet.”
Your eyes widened when he leaned towards you, and you squeezed the sheets as he cupped your cheek.
“I can see so much potential in you,” he breathed. “You could be such a good girl.”
He leaned toward even further, and you realized that he was going to kiss you. For a moment, all you could do was watch as his face got closer and closer, frozen by your fear and his suffocating scent, but as soon as his lips touched yours, your body leapt into action.
You threw yourself away from him as if he were on fire and scrambled to the stairs, your feet stumbling as you ran down them. Towards the last step, your ankle twisted beneath your weight, sending you crumpling to the ground. You cried out as your head hit the banister hard, but you ignored the ringing in your ears, forcing yourself to stand up again.
Movement caught your attention out of the corner of your eye, and you stopped dead in your tracks as you watched Steve calmly approach the staircase. Instead of starting to walk down, though, he hoisted himself over the rail and dropped to the first floor, landing in a crouch before standing up and sauntering over to you.
And that was when you realized why he looked so familiar. No normal person would be able to just do shit like that. And if you were to take away the beard, he would have the exact same face you’d seen in museums, textbooks, and newspapers throughout your entire life.
Steve rolled his eyes and marched towards you, and you were so surprised that you didn’t even try to retreat.
“I used to be, doll,” he growled. “But I’m way past trying to be a hero for a world that doesn’t even want to be saved.”
You finally began to struggle when he set his hands on your hips, but he ignored your protests as he effortlessly picked you up.
“I understand,” he huffed, starting to carry you once more up the stairs. “Really, I do. You’re scared, and I’m a stranger.”
He dropped you onto the bed before shucking off his shirt, and you clambered backwards when he started to crawl over your body.
“But I’ve made my decision; you are my omega.”
The sound of fabric ripping coaxed a startle cry past your lips, and you tried to cover your chest when Steve tore your shirt away.
“Quit with the complaining, doll,” he huffed. “I’ll treat you right if you just let me-“
A sob escaped you when he took hold of your wrists and pinned them to either side of your head. Tears were running down your cheeks, and Steve’s knee between your thighs made it impossible to close your legs no matter how hard you tried to. For a moment, both of you simply looked at one another, one with terror in their eyes, the other with pure lust.
Steve’s nose skimmed your neck as he leaned down, inhaling your scent and nuzzling your mating gland. The sound that he made could only be described as a purr as he drank in your essence, and his hips started to lazily grind down against you.
“Fuck, you smell so sweet,” he groaned. “How haven’t you been mated yet?”
His tongue darted out, tracing the gland languidly. Shocks of pleasure coursed down from your neck to your spine, and you found yourself arching up of your own accord; you’d thought that it was a myth that more nerve endings existed in a person’s mating gland, but Steve was proving that theory wrong despite how much you didn’t want this.
“That feels good, doesn’t it?” he breathed. “Imagine how good it’ll be when I fuckin’ sink my teeth into you.”
Your voice cut off into a stuttering moan when he nipped at the skin, not hard enough to pierce it but enough to make your hips buck upwards of their own accord.
“That’s my girl,” he praised. “Let yourself feel this; you deserve it. You’ve waited so long for a good, strong alpha to take care of you, haven’t you? My good little omega…”
Under any other circumstances, you would’ve preened under his praise, ever the stereotypical, eager-to-please omega, and you fought against the urge to lean into his touch. His scent had an almost dizzying effect on you, and your struggles were slowly growing weaker and weaker.
“I’ve heard that an alpha’s rut can sent their omega into an early heat,” he mused, letting one of his hands trail up to cup your breast. “I think we should test that theory.”
You whined when his thumb started circling your nipple, and an amused grin overtook his features.
“Good girl,” he praised, and you momentarily had enough clarity to glare at him from under your lashes.
“Fuck you,” you grunted, but he only chuckled.
“Well that’s the idea, sweetheart,” he remarked.
Suddenly, you felt the world spin around you, and suddenly you were on your belly.
“But if you use that language with me again,” he purred against your ear, “I’ll fuck your throat until I knot in that dirty little mouth of yours. Are we clear?”
Hurriedly, you nodded your head yes, and Steve’s hand slid down the curve of your spine.
You gasped when his arm snaked under your hips, pulling up on them until you were on your knees and elbows. You felt as if your cheeks were burning when he spread your ass cheeks, and you squirmed as you tried to close your legs.
“You’re already wet for me, omega,” he noted. “Your body wants this; why can’t you just give in?”
Despite his earlier threat, you were about to say something along the lines of ‘because fuck you, you star spangled asshole’, but then something cool and wet licked upwards from your clit to your entrance, and all of your thoughts faded to white noise.
Steve’s tongue slid into you slowly, stretching your hole in ways that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and the groan he let out at your taste was pornographic. At a slow, even pace, he started tongue fucking you, and you couldn’t control the moans that were spilling out of your lips. You reached out, gripping the nearest pillow and digging your nails into it as pleasure started flowing through you.
You whined when, all too soon, he pulled his tongue out, but when he slid it over your clit and started tracing quick, tight circles against your bud, you nearly screamed. A finger slid inside of you as your hips started rocking; it was obscene, and wrong, and humiliating, but you’d never felt anything like this before. Steve’s moans urged you on, and despite your fear, your hatred, of him, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your climax.
“S-steve,” you squeaked, “w-wait, fuck-“
You buried your face in the pillow as, all of a sudden, your orgasm came over you, but Steve’s free hand snapped up to your head and pulled it back by a handful of your hair, making you arch your back as you screamed his name. His finger curled inside of you as your pussy clenched around it, and he was murmuring soft words of encouragement as you came down from your high.
“There you go,” he purred. “You did so good for me. See how good your alpha takes care of you?”
Your head was still spinning when Steve pulled away, but your eyes snapped open when you heard the slide of fabric against skin. You looked over your shoulder and felt your blood ran cold when you saw him toss his jeans to the side, and immediately you looked down at his cock, already fully hard and leaking a bead of precum.
"N-no," you gasped, trying to crawl away. “Steve, no, please-“
But he only gripped your hips and pulled you back to him until you felt his hardness grind against your ass.
“Calm down, baby,” he murmured. “It’ll only hurt for a second.”
Before you could beg him anymore, he started pushing into you, and nothing could have prepared you for the stretch. It burned, so bad that all you could do was bite down on your hand and trying to hold back your tears as he impaled you.
“Fu-uck,” he groaned. “Oh, my god, baby. So good, so fucking good-“
He paused only when his head pushed painfully against your cervix, and for a long moment he stayed still, allowing you the small kindness of adjusting to his thickness.
“Shh, it’s ok,” he cooed, pressing his chest flush to your back. “The worst part is over, baby. We can take our time from here.”
He nuzzled your mating gland and cupped your tits, rolling them in his palms as he pressed kisses over the curve of your shoulder.
“This is the tightest little pussy I’ve ever felt,” he whispered. “You’re making your alpha feel so good, doll.”
And as twisted as it was, as much as you hated it, his words actually helped. Slowly, you let your muscles relax, and he rewarded you with an open-mouthed kiss to that sensitive spot in your neck. One of his hands snaked its way beneath your body and began toying with your still-sensitive clit, rubbing it until your hips squirmed against him.
He took your movements as a sign to move, and a surprised moan escaped your lips when he pulled back, nearly pulling out completely before thrusting forward. Your pussy made an embarrassingly loud squelching noise, but you found yourself grateful that you were wet enough to make the stretch that much more bearable.
Steve slowly began to find an easy rhythm, and despite his rough treatment of you, he was gentle as he took you. At least, as gentle as rape could be. That’s what you had to keep telling yourself; despite every sweet word that left his lips and despite every moan he managed to pull from yours, you still didn’t want this. You didn’t want him.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he breathed. “Best fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever had…”
You whined as he kept rubbing your clit, matching the rhythm of his fingers to the rhythm of his hips. Your body betrayed you as it started aching for more, and as he started speeding up you found yourself moving your hips back to meet his thrusts. Steve’s moans grew louder, and you heard a loud crack as his palm smacked your ass.
“Good girl-“ he panted. “Taking your alpha’s cock so well…”
Suddenly, he pulled out, leaving you empty and dripping and wanting, and you felt him shift upwards onto his knees. Roughly, he shoved your knees further apart and entered you again, immediately snapping his hips at a hard, brutal pace. Every thrust drew a moan out of your parted lips, and your arm and leg muscles were starting to shake.
The bed beneath you creaked loudly as he fucked you into the mattress, and your scents had mingled into something heady and warm and intoxicating. The founds of skin slapping skin was as intimate as it was erotic, and your moans became deeper, throatier as his pace suddenly shifted, slowing down as he bucked his hips harder. Each movement drew a strangled moan from your throat, and Steve’s fingers found your clit once again.
This was somehow even worse than the erratic, frantic claiming. This had somehow become more intimate, less frenzied, but the pleasure dulling your senses remained the same.
“Knew it from the first moment I smelled you,” Steve whispered, his voice strained and husky. “I knew that you were gonna be mine. ‘ve never met anyone like you.”
Your eyebrows furrowed together and you let out a low whine as the head of his cock brushed against a sensitive, delicious spot inside of you. Without thinking, you pushed back against him, silently urging him to move faster.
“Oh? Right there?” You nodded your head, mewling as he hit your g-spot again. “Right there, little omega?”
“Y-yes,” you gasped, resting your forehead against your arms. “Please…”
“Please what, little one?” he grunted, slowing down until he was only just barely grinding his hips. “Tell me what you want.”
You whined, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head; you wouldn’t say it out loud – your pride wouldn’t allow you to.
“Say it,” Steve urged. “I won’t give it to you until you do.”
You bit your lip, trying to ignore the fluttering in your pussy, urging Steve’s cock in deeper, but after a few seconds you snapped. With tears in your eyes, you looked over your shoulder at him, taking in the rapid rising and falling of his hips, the way his lips were parted as he watched you.
“…Fuck me,” you finally whispered, bowing your head as your defeat washed over you. “Please, fuck me…”
Your eyes widened when he pulled out of you completely, but you understood when he flipped you over onto your back. You stared up at him as he positioned himself at your entrance once again, and your back arched up as if you’d been electrocuted when he shoved himself inside of you once more.
His pace was no longer kind nor was it unhurried as he fucked you; you were both so tantalizingly close to your release, and now it was just a matter of chasing it. His moans escaped from behind clenched teeth as he gripped your thigh in one hand, hoisting it up and bending it until your knee was almost touching your chest. But from this angle, you felt him so deep inside of you that you didn’t care; you laid back and took it, clawing at his biceps as you got closer and closer.
All too soon, your body tensed up, your pussy clenching as you came. White exploded behind your eyes as the pleasure overtook you, and not even the ringing in your ears could drown out Steve’s names as you screamed it. You glanced up through your lashes to find the alpha’s eyes already gazing into your own, until he grit his teeth and threw his head back.
Your name was a prayer on his lips as he grew closer and closer, until he lunged forward with a growl. His tongue lapped at your mating gland in ways that had your pussy fluttering even after your release, but time seemed to stand still when you felt his teeth sink into your flesh.
You were vaguely aware of the heat of Steve’s cum as it painted your walls, and even your own, second, orgasm faded into the background. Your eyes were unseeing, your body unfeeling; the only thing you could focus on was your mating gland being bitten, being claimed, by Steve Rogers. It was a permanent mark of who you belonged to; a milky white scar would forever be left behind, as would the memory of who put it there.
A broken, distressed moan escaped your lips when he pulled away, but you immediately understood what he wanted when he bared his neck to you in a rare sign of submission, especially from an alpha like himself. As his knot swelled inside you, locking you in place, you leaned forward, licking your lips.
Later, you would blame it on your hormones, on your body’s natural instinct as an omega who had just been claimed. But whatever the true reason was for your actions, you latched onto his neck and bit his mating gland in return. The piercing of teeth against skin felt amazing in an explainable, primal way, and you both moaned as you marked Steve in the same, permanent way he’d marked you.
You stayed there until you’d both caught your breaths, reveling in your ability to hurt him, to wield control over him in the way he’d forcibly done to you. When you finally tasted his blood on your tongue, you let go, licking it off of your lips and wincing at how far his knot had stretched you.
Looking up into his blue eyes, the reality of it all came crashing down onto you; you’d been raped, claimed, by a total stranger. You knew of him only from history books and news reports, and now he was inside you, the mark on your neck a permanent part of him that would follow you for the rest of your days.
A sob wracked your shoulders, and your hands flew up to cover your face. A sad, almost pitying look swept across Steve’s features, and he gathered you into his arms as he rolled you onto your sides.
“Shhh, it’s ok,” he cooed, running his fingers through your hair. “I know, I know… It’s ok, omega. I’ve got you.”
You wanted to throw your fists against his chest; you wanted to slap the pitiful look off of his face. You wanted to throw yourself off of the deck just as he’d done hours earlier.
But instead you closed your eyes and let him whisper empty words of comfort to you until sleep finally, finally, came.
If it weren’t for the soreness that had spread all over your body, you would’ve thought it had all been a dream.
You woke up with the sheets neatly tucked around you. You were still naked, but your clothes from last night had been tucked away into the laundry hamper in the corner. You heard faint noises coming from the kitchen – the occasional clang of two plates clinking together, the sizzling of something on the stove – but there was nothing out of place in the bedroom.
Wincing, you pushed the covers back and stood up swaying unsteadily on your feet. You glanced in the mirror, feeling your blood run cold at the sight that greeted you. Your reflection was covered in bruises and bitemarks; you hadn’t even been aware of Steve biting you that much during last night’s activities. Your hair was a mess, but there was no dried cum along the inside of your thighs. He must have cleaned you up after his knot allowed the two of you to separate.
Gulping, you tilted your head and leaned forward, feeling a fresh wave of tears sting your eyes when you saw the red, irritated bitemark on your mating gland. Soon enough, the puffy flesh would calm down, and the crimson would be replaced by a silvery scar that would remain there for the rest of your life. Every look in the mirror would be a fresh reminder of what Steve had done to you.
Clearing your throat, you arranged your hair until it covered over the mark, and you reached into the dresser to pull out a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt. You didn’t really think that you could escape the famous Captain America, but you still crept down the stairs, avoiding the squeaky ones you’d discovered yesterday as you made your slow descent.
Upon reaching the first floor, your eyes focused on the side table next to the front door, but your keys weren’t resting on it like you’d left them yesterday. A disappointed sigh left your lips, and you tiptoed closer to the door. Maybe you could make it on foot-
“I made breakfast,” you suddenly heard Steve call from the kitchen. “Come and get it before it gets cold.”
Your heart sank, and you immediately knew that there would be no use in trying to leave now. Squaring your shoulders, you cautiously made your way to him, your abused pussy aching with every step you took.
Steve was standing over the sink, washing a pan and wearing only a pair of sweatpants. You weren’t sure where he’d gotten them; you doubted he could have fit into any of your aunt’s clothes.
“Go ahead and have a seat,” he instructed you, not looking up from the pan. “I’ll bring over our plates. Do you like coffee?”
You bit your lip and did as he said, lowering yourself into the seat with a wince. Steve finally looked up when he heard your sharp inhalation, and guilt flashed across his face.
“I’ll get you some pain killers,” he said. “Can you take ibuprofen?”
You looked down at the table, wringing your hands in your lap.
“…I’d prefer Tylenol,” you murmured. “And yes, I like coffee.”
The alpha nodded, and you continued resolutely staring at the table, even when he set down a plate of steaming eggs and bacon, a mug of coffee, and a bottle of pain killers. You mechanically took four of the pills, washing them down with the black coffee. You jumped when Steve settled down into the chair across from yours, but you refused to look up at him as he began devouring his meal.
“…You should eat something,” he remarked, but you ignored him, only taking another sip of your coffee. With a sigh, he set down his fork, swallowing a bit of eggs before addressing you again.
“I mean it,” he insisted. “I haven’t even started my rut yet; you’ll need the strength.”
A tear slipped out of your eyes, and you looked down at your food. With shaking fingers, you picked up a slab of bacon, but when its smell hit you, you felt bile rise up in your throat. You immediately dropped it, taking another gulp of coffee to help push down your nausea.
“Hon,” Steve huffed. “C’mon. At least try.”
“I’m not hungry,” you muttered.
“Just one bite, then,” he persisted. “Please.”
You shot him a glare from beneath your lashes, but he only raised his eyebrows expectantly. You stared until you couldn’t stand the sight of him, and your resolve crumbled as you finally looked down. Picking up your fork, you shoveled a bite of scrambled egg into your mouth, not tasting it as you chewed and then swallowed.
“There,” you grumbled. “Happy?’
Steve once again sighed through his nose, but he only shook his head and went back to eating. For a long moment, the two of you were silent, until he finished his plate and slid yours over towards himself.
“So,” he started, picking up the piece of bacon you hadn’t been able to stomach. “You obviously don’t live here. Who does? A relative – sister, maybe? Is she the one in all the photos?”
You didn’t answer him, and with a frustrated grunt he reached over, grabbing your hand.
“I know that you probably hate me,” he mumbled. “And I can understand why. But we’re together now; you might as well make the most of it. Tell me about yourself.”
Your chest ached with unshed tears, and you looked down at his massive palm as it engulfed yours.
“…I always dreamed about falling in love,” you finally spoke. “I didn’t care who it was with – an alpha or a beta. I just knew that I wanted to love the person I shared my first time with. They didn’t have to be my mate, and I never expected it to be perfect. But I wanted it to mean something.”
You looked up, clenching your jaw as you pulled your hair away, showing him the bonding mark still fresh on your neck.
“You…took that from me,” you growled. “And you stole so much more than just my virginity. You took my choice; you made the years that I’d waited for someone special mean nothing. And I’ll never be able to forget it because of this fucking scar you left behind. So no, I’m not going to make the most out of a shitty situation, because no matter how nice we play, no matter how much I try, it will always and forever be a shitty thing that you did.”
Steve’s jaw clenched, and you flinched when he abruptly stood up from his chair. You pressed yourself against the back of the chair as he towered over for you, and you feared the worst when you saw his hands clench into fists at his side.
“…I’m going out,” he growled. “If you try to run, I’ll find you.”
With that, he stormed out, nearly yanking the front door off its hinges and letting it slam shut behind him. For the next several seconds, the only sounds in the room were the muffled birdsong from outside and the ticking of a clock from the hallway.
Eventually, you stood up, bringing your still-full plate into the kitchen and scraping its contents into the trash can. Your mating gland throbbed, but inside you felt nothing but numbness as you went about your cleaning.
After everything was spotless, you futilely searched for your keys, but Steve must have taken them with him. And despite your earlier desire to try and flee on foot, a gut instinct told you that he’d meant it when he said he would find you. You were miles away from a road that wasn’t made of dirt or gravel, and even the nearest highway was even more miles from any signs of civilization. You were well and truly stuck here.
Not knowing what else to do, you went outside onto the back deck, where it had all started. You sat out there until the sun was high in the sky, and it must have been hours until you heard the screen door open. You kept your eyes focused on the forest around you as Steve sat down next to you, and you remained still as a statue even as you felt his eyes baring into you.
“…I first came here two weeks ago,” he started. “No one was here, so I used it as a safehouse. I’ve been on the run since…since the Avengers split apart.”
The only response you gave him was a nod, and he took that as a sign to continue on.
“It had been a while for me. Since I’d…been with anyone. Ever since I was given the serum, my ruts have been more intense. At first, I tried to ignore them, fight ‘em off, but eventually that just stopped working.
“When I first saw you, smelled you, I knew that I wanted you,” he sighed. “Everything else kind of…faded into the background. Your scent was enough to send me spiraling towards a rut. Hell, I haven’t even started it yet, but it’s gonna be one of my most intense ones yet.
“I’m not saying that I’m sorry,” he sighed. “Because I know we’re way past that. And I’m not gonna say I’m not gonna do it again, cuz even now it’s taking all of my willpower not to bend you over the side of the balcony. But I guess I’m saying that… I get what I’ve done to you. I know it’s…heinous. And a younger me would’ve been disgusted with it. But now that we’re bonded to each other, I’m going to make this work.”
You turned to him, feeling your blood go cold at how determined he sounded.
“Make this… Steve, this can’t… There’s no future for us,” you stammered. “We don’t know each other; you, you raped me. There is no ‘making this work’.”
“Yes, there is,” he insisted. “I waited for someone special too, you know. I let the only woman I ever loved slip out of my fingers; when I woke up after the ice, I knew I wasn’t gonna just spend the rest of my life with anybody. And even if we don’t know each other, it doesn’t mean it’ll always be that way. We can learn-“
“I don’t want to learn!” you exclaimed, rushing to your feet. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with you! If you’re bound and determined to ride out the rest of your rut with me, then fine. I’ll hate it, but I’ll get it. Use me like a glorified sex doll like you did last night. But don’t turn this into something it’s not. Just leave me the fuck alone once you’ve had your fun.”
Steve stood up, towering over you, and you stumbled backwards as he advanced towards you.
“You don’t want me to be your alpha? Well tough shit,” he spat. “You should’ve thought about that before you bit me back.”
You opened your mouth to deny it, but then your eyes fell onto the side of his neck, and your mouth snapped shut. It was a perfect mirror of your own scar, and you gulped when Steve tilted his head to the side so he could get a better view of it. Your teeth were perfectly imprinted in red right over his gland, and sick shame washed over you as you stared at it.
“I’m going to carry around a piece of you for the rest of my life,” he continued, starting to walk towards you again. “So you’d better be damned sure that I’m not going to let you go anywhere.”
A gasp escaped your parted lips when you felt your ass press against the deck’s railing, and you looked over your shoulder to see a fifteen foot drop just on its other side. Gulping, you turned back around, and once again Steve was towering over you, his scent wafting to your nostrils as he caged you in.
“I’m yours just as much as you’re mine, sugar,” he growled. “I’d get used to it if I were you.”
One of his hands tangled in your hair, and then, before you knew it, he was pressing his lips to yours, His other hand trailed up the side of your neck, tracing his bitemark with his fingertips in ways that shot tingles all the way down your spine, to your toes, and back up again. Your whole body twitched at the sensation, and a laugh that sounded more like a purr sounded from his chest.
“I’ll always love how responsive you are,” he murmured. “And eventually, one day, I’ll love the rest of you. Even that bratty little mouth of yours.”
You whimpered when his hands moved down to your hips, picking you up and setting you on the rail. You gasped and grabbed onto his shoulders, leaning towards him and away from the drop behind you.
“Steve!” you exclaimed. “Wait, I don’t-“
“I’m tired of waiting,” he interrupted. “You’ve been walking around in those tiny shorts all fucking day. I’ve held back for long enough.”
He reached down and roughly yanked your shirt up, tearing it down your arms and tossing it behind him. Your nipples pebbled as your breasts were exposed to the slight chill in the spring air, and goosebumps rose up all over your torso.
“I fucking love your tits,” he growled, dipping his head down to suck on one of your nipples. His hand roughly rolled and groped your other breast, and you fought not to arch your back, already feeling off balance as you tried to remain seated on the thin rail.
“Steve, can we please go inside-“
“No, baby,” he grunted. “I need you right here, right now.”
He did, however, pull you forward, and you let out a huff of relief when your feet met solid ground once again. Your relief was short-lived, however, as he turned you around and pushed you forward with a hand between your shoulder blades. You bent down, clutching the top of the low fence and staring at the forest floor below as he ground his erection against your ass. He was already half-hard, growing harder by the second as he rubbed himself against you.
“At least I chose the best pussy I’ve ever felt,” he mused, and you whined when two fingers suddenly plunged into you.
Your slick sounds were obscenely loud, and despite the cabin’s isolation, you felt a fleeting stab of fear that someone would hear him as he fingered you. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the top of the rail, and you clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your moan when Steve’s thumb found your clit.
“No, no, no,” he chided. “I want to hear you, little one. Let me hear those cute little noises you make.”
He reached down and grabbed your wrist, pulling it away as his thumb traced quick, tight circles against your bud. All the while, he was still grinding his clothed erection against the curve of your ass, and your thoughts swam as he added a third finger inside of you.
“I did make you feel good last night,” he breathed. “Didn’t I? You came…I think it was three times? Fuck, I think you were just as desperate as I was.”
He chuckled, pulling his hand away.
“But who am I kidding? I’m still desperate for you.”
Without warning, he spun you around and sat you on the rail once again, shoving his sweatpants down before lining his cock up with your entrance. It all happened so fast; you had no time to prepare yourself as he slid into you in one fluid, fast motion.
“Oh, god-“ you gasped, hands flying to his shoulders. “Steve, please, it hurts-“
“It’s gonna hurt these first couple of times, babygirl,” he sighed, as if he were an exasperated teacher trying to explain a difficult problem to you. “But if you just, fuck-“
He was cut off by his own moan as he started thrusting, not pausing to give you any time to adjust before starting to pump his hips forward.
“If you just relax,” he continued, “then it’ll feel better.”
You clung to him as he started pounding into you, letting your head fall forward to rest on his shoulder. There was nothing else you could do as he snapped his hips; you were powerless against him as he used you for his own pleasure.
Oh, and you’re not getting anything out of this? A treacherous voice whispered to you in the back of your mind, and as you started to feel the same pleasure as you had last night, it grew louder and louder. He’s right – it does feel good. Just give in; it would be so easy to just enjoy it.
You couldn’t bite back a moan as the head of his cock brushed against your g-spot, just as it had last night, and Steve rewarded you by snaking a hand between your bodies and rubbing your clit with his thumb once more. The stimulation to your bud made your thighs tremble, and you found your hips rolling forward as you felt that familiar knot start to tighten in your belly.
Your eyes opened, and you found yourself face to face with your bite mark. In your pleasure-addled mind, you couldn’t help but admire the impression that now marked his flesh; you thought back to how it had felt to bite him, to sink your teeth into him as he’d made you cum a second time with his cock buried deep inside of you.
As if reading your thoughts, Steve leaned downwards, and you cried out when he fit his teeth into your fresh scar once again. It hurt like a bitch, but it also felt perfect, as if a puzzle piece you hadn’t realized you were missing had finally found its rightful place in your body. You let your instincts guide you as you opened your mouth, first licking at Steve’s mating gland before sinking your own teeth into his bond mark.
Steve’s hips stilled, and you felt him growl as he pulled you tighter against him. He removed his teeth from you and squeezed your ass, picking you up.
“Keep biting me,” he commanded, his voice huskier than you’d ever heard it. “Don’t you fucking stop.”
You whined and nodded, biting harder as he pressed your back against the screen door. Once again, he started pounding into you, starting out at a punishing rhythm as he held you aloft. You could tell he was close, and you weren’t far behind him.
“I’m gonna fill you up again, omega,” he grunted. “Gonna make your belly round and – fuck – and swollen with my child. Gonna cum in you again and again and again, just like I know you need.”
A moan escaped your throat, and you let go of his neck to let your head fall back against the glass. Your eyes met his pleadingly, captured by those intense, terrifying blue irises as you both approached your peak.
“You gonna cum?” he murmured, and you nodded wordlessly, whimpers and groans spilling out of your open mouth as he snapped his hips harder.
He thrust one, two more times before you both snapped, and your screams of release mingled together as you came. His knot pushed past your entrance, swelling inside of you as his cum filled your pussy, and you let out a low groan at the strange sensation. Your nails were biting into his biceps, but neither of you cared as you rode out the aftershocks.
Last night, you’d been able to find respite in falling asleep, in not having to deal with the immediate consequences of what Steve had done to you and of what you’d done to him in return. But now, you were wide awake, watching in horror as the alpha, your alpha, caught his breath.
“…How long does it take for your knot to go away?” you asked in a quiet, almost timid voice.
“Um…” Steve thought about it. “Typically about twenty minutes.”
You sighed, closing your eyes.
“You know, now would be a good time for us to talk, since you refused to earlier.”
You shot Steve a withering glare, and he only chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
“You’re not like any of the other omegas I’ve met,” he murmured.
“If you’re seriously going to tell me I’m not like other girls,” you quipped, “I’m going to throw both of us off this balcony.”
Steve chuckled again, tightening his grip on you and walking you over to the outdoor couch. You were feeling a medley of confusing, conflicting emotions, and you looked away as you fought to process all of them. It was true, what they said – you did feel more vulnerable after having sex with Steve. You refused to cry, though. You’d wasted enough time and energy on tears.
“I meant what I said, you know,” the alpha suddenly said. You pulled back enough to meet his eyes, arching an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?”
“When I said I wanted to get you pregnant,” he clarified. “You would look beautiful with my child growing inside of you.”
Your eyes grew comically wide, and you had to look away.
“I… I’m not ready to have kids,” was all you said, and Steve nodded thoughtfully.
“I’m not really in a position to have them, either,” he sighed, letting his head fall back. “I’m still on the run from Tony until everything blows over. It’s not a situation to bring a child up in.
“But one day, omega,” he said, his voice dipping low in its timber as he grew more serious, “I’m going to fuck a baby into you. I don’t want to hear any lip about it, either.”
You bit your trembling lip at the thought of being pregnant with this man’s child; if that ever were to happen, you really would be well and truly stuck with him.
You couldn’t think about that, though. You wouldn’t let yourself think about it. As Steve rubbed your back, waiting until his knot released you, the only thing you could think about was getting from one moment to the next. You didn’t know how or when you would manage to do it, but one thing was for certain.
One day, you would find a way to escape Steve Rogers. After all, it was like your aunt had said in her letter – you were strong. Even stronger than Captain America. And the only thing in life you needed was you.
1K notes · View notes
Hi! Could I request something about reader helping Bucky cope with the loss of his arm?
Love your writing!! 💕
Summary: You knew Bucky didn't like his arm. You just didn't know how much until he accidentally hurt you with it.
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings: Small injury, Sad!Bucky (This is a warning)
a/n: Thank you for the request, Anon!! This made me want to cry, but in a cool way.
Bucky used to love technology. Back in the day, he would drag Steve across the city to the entertainment shop every time a new invention hit the market. Steve told you that when car radios came out in 1933, Bucky wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks. The duo would sit outside of the expensive restaurants just to hear the radios play from the cars of the people who could afford them.
When the first Stark Expo was announced in 1943, Bucky was ecstatic. All of the tech he could ever want was going to be laid out for him every year. He could bring his best pal, maybe a few dames, and see what the world had to offer. If he thought hard enough, Bucky could sometimes remember the feeling that shot through him when he walked through that first expo with Steve. Bucky didn’t get to go to the next one.
Things changed after the fall. A lot was blurry for him, but certain things stood out. The cryo-chamber he was forced into in between missions. The machine they used to wipe his mind and reprogram it to their liking. The highly mechanized guns they would press into his arms, some so complex that he barely understood how they worked. Most of all, he remembered his arm and all of the work Hydra did on it.
Bucky didn’t like technology much after that. Even after the people of Wakanda used their advancements to clear his mind, he still felt like it betrayed him. He couldn’t look at the sparkling tech in Wakanda or the fancy iPhones everyone carried around without feeling the bitter sting of resentment. It was technology that made him the way he was. That made this hunk of metal hanging from where his arm should be.
You made it easier. When you came into Bucky’s life, everything was dark. He was going to that veteran's support group Steve forced him to attend—which didn’t make much sense to him because he thought he had a lot more pressing issues than being a veteran. Steve had brushed off his grumbling and insisted that it would be good for Bucky to get to know other people with similar experiences. Bucky discovered on the first day that he would much rather get to know the girl at the front desk.
He stumbled through a few attempts at flirting before you agreed to go on a date with him. He had leaned up against the counter, flashing you his sweet, awkward smile before saying, “Bucky Barnes. I’m here for the support group.” You stifled a laugh and pulled the clipboard out from its place under his arm.
“Mr. Barnes, I’ve told you. You just have to sign in on the clipboard. You don’t have to tell me every week.” He smirked and grabbed the papers from your outstretched hand.
“Right, but if I do that, then what excuse will I have to talk to you? And please, doll, it’s Bucky.” His gloved hands signed the clipboard before passing it back to you. “I mean we could do a lot more talkin’ if you wanted to go to dinner with me. If you’d think that’d be fun?” His nervousness was evident in the flexing of his fingers.
“Sounds fun! What about tonight?” You offered. He let out a sigh of relief at your excited tone and quickly agreed. You continued to lead the conversation. “So should I meet you at the tower then? Way easier than my place all the way in Queens. Maybe around 8?” Bucky blanched at your words, his previous concern returning to his face.
“You, uh, you know who I am?” His left arm went instinctively behind his back.
“Of course I do, Bucky. You and the Avengers are on the news all the time. Plus, Steve came in before your first group meeting to sign you up, so that was kind of a dead giveaway,” He didn’t reciprocate your smile as you spoke. “Is there something wrong with me knowing who you are?”
“No, no, of course not. It's just that- well are you sure you wanna go out with me then? With everything I am. And you've gotta know why I wear these all the time,” He gestured to his gloves. “Wouldn’t really blame ya if you weren’t interested anymore,” His once flirty tone was now dismal.
“Bucky, I’ve known who you were since the first day you walked through that door. Trust me, I’m interested. Plus, half the guys in here have lost a limb, I see it every day. I don’t think that makes you anything less,” You took a chance and gripped his right hand still resting on the counter. “So what do you say? 8 o’clock at the tower?”
Bucky had never been given comfort for his arm. It always took a backseat to Hydra’s brainwashing or being stuck in cryosleep for decades, so people barely ever mentioned it. But as you sat there—in a massive looking desk chair with way too much padding—he somehow found a comfort he didn’t even know he was looking for. He gave your hand a soft squeeze.
“Yeah, sweetheart. Wouldn’t miss it.”
Throughout the many months of your relationship, you worked hard to show Bucky his worth. To an outsider, he probably looked very confident and sure of himself, but you knew there were parts of him that he had trouble coming to terms with.
There were the noticeable things, of course. He would make himself small when he met new people, still viewing himself as a terrifying soldier. He worked out too hard in the gym to make sure he would be dependable on any mission they sent him on. He would wake up from nightmares about the man he used to be and the lives he took. But those were things that anyone could see. You saw the things he kept private. You saw how much he disliked his arm.
He never said anything about it—he felt like he couldn’t complain when he was given such a great substitute—but it all came to a head when Tony decided it was time for an upgrade. He had been tinkering away in his lab for a few weeks, trying to make an attachment to Bucky’s arm that would monitor his grip strength. “It’s gonna be great, Barnes. You’ll be able to break any material in half one second, and then switch that strength off with just your mind,” Tony rambled, excitedly.
Bucky looked uncomfortable with the idea that day. You had pulled him aside and spoken in a low voice, assuring him that he didn’t have to add anything to his arm that he didn’t want to. That Tony just gets a little too excited sometimes. He gave your forehead a quick kiss and held you at arm's length, looking down at you appreciatively.
“S’no problem, doll. Not like adding something else is gonna make my arm any less gone than it already is,” He sounded so resigned it made your heart break.
“It’s still your arm, Buck. No matter if it's the one you were born with or not. If you aren't comfortable with it, you should let him know,” His mouth turned up in a small smile and he shook his head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
“I’m okay with it, sweetheart. No need to worry about me.”
But you did worry about him. After the addition to his arm, Bucky started struggling with day to day tasks. He would grab a cup from the dishwasher and shatter it, still not used to the new mechanics. Sometimes he wouldn’t grip an item hard enough and it would go crashing to the floor as he walked down the hallway. It was easy to see how frustrated he was getting, but those instances didn’t even come close to the devastation on his face when he hurt you.
You had come over to make him dinner after a particularly grueling mission, working quickly around his kitchen to bring the meal together. He walked in from the bathroom and hummed warmly at the smells coming from the pans on the stove. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing deeply. “You makin’ all this for me, sweetheart?”
“Of course I am, Buck. You see any other super soldiers around here that could eat this much? I don’t think—ah!” You dropped the spatula you were using and abruptly pushed Bucky away with the lower half of your body. The sharp pain in your hip was a clear indicator that he had somehow lost control of his strength once again. You sucked air through your teeth as you lifted your shirt to inspect the area, bruises already forming on your side.
Every thought in Bucky’s mind seemed to vanish. He looked from his hand to your bruised hip multiple times before sputtering out, “Doll I—God, I’m so sorry. I’m still tryna get used to this thing. I didn’t mean for it to—” He took a deep breath, tears forming in his waterline. “Shit, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I knew this was a bad idea. I thought for once this arm might be good for something and it just messed everything up again.”
You dropped the hem of your shirt at his words, covering the small injury. Sure, it hurt a little, but you were pretty sure you’d had worse knocking your side into the kitchen counter. In all honesty, your chest was hurting from his words far more than your side was.
“Bucky, it doesn’t hurt that bad, and it was an accident! What do you mean your arm isn’t good for anything?” You asked, taking his face in between your hands. His watery eyes met yours as he went to place his hands on your wrists, but the glint of his metal arm stopped him dead in his tracks. He kept his hands fidgeting at his side.
“Ever since I got outta Hyrda, I’ve been tryna make a positive difference. Like undo my wrongs, you know? That’s why I agreed to let Tony put this stupid metal contraption on my arm. I thought it would make me useful. Like if I had to lose my arm, then maybe it could be a weapon for the Avengers instead.
“There’s no use tryna act like it's the real thing. I’m just a guy missing an arm who honestly shouldn’t have the luxury of getting a new one. So many other people deserve a prosthetic as good as the one I’ve got. Figured I owed it to the world to make sure I use what I was given for their benefit,” He pressed his forehead to yours, allowing himself some comfort. “But then I hurt you with it. The one person who doesn’t look at my arm like it's some foreign object. You always tell me that it’s part of who I am and look at what I did. I hurt you, doll.”
“Bucky, honey, look at me,” You coaxed his eyes open, your foreheads still leaning against each other. “You deserve good things. You deserve an arm that is totally, completely yours. You’re no longer a weapon like those people at Hyrda made you think you were. When I look at you, I see a man who loves and has people who love him. I love you. The team loves you. They wouldn’t want you to carry this burden—to think that a part of yourself didn’t belong to you.”
He lets out a shaky breath, a few tears sliding down his face. He shifts his head up to kiss your forehead, pulling your waist in with his right arm, the human one, before mumbling into your hair, “But I still hurt you, sweetheart. My decision to do this hurt you. I love you so much. I never wanted to hurt you,” You gripped his shirt between your fingers, reaching for his left arm to wrap it around your back. He pushed against you at first but gave in when your fingers caressed the scarring on his shoulder.
“What hurts me more is that you felt this way all on your own. The way you feel about me, Bucky? That’s how I feel about you. I want you to feel happy and whole like how you make me feel. Your arm is part of what makes you whole. It belongs to you,” you articulated, hoping that your words would reach him. He shifted his hand to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.
“What did I do to deserve you?” He asked.
“I ask myself that question every day, Mr. Barnes.” He chuckled a little at the name before dropping down to his knees, lifting up the hem of your shirt. The pads of his metal fingers traced the bruises on your skin leaving goosebumps in their wake. He gently pressed his lips to the injury, eyes tracking up to yours as he did so. They were filled with apology and adoration and love. You reached down and brought his face to yours, stealing the soft kiss from his lips.
When he pulled back, he kept his eyes closed, relishing in the feel of your lips brushing his and your hands smoothing circles across his back. He could feel the smile forming on his face as you teased, “So how are we gonna tell Tony that we need this thing off your arm? He might throw a fit after how long he worked on it.”
Bucky didn’t like technology anymore. It brought back bad memories and was far too complicated for a man of his age to understand. But when he opened his eyes that day and saw you smiling up at him, he was pretty sure he would have to make an exception and buy a camera, if only to capture you in that moment.
797 notes · View notes
You First [G.]
Request: A Gally request please where he is super annoyed at the reader. When he sees the reader shaking because they’re cold even with a blanket around them, he sighs loudly, sits down and shares body heat under the blanket with them.
A/N: I know I’ve been sort of absent lately and I probably will be just because I’m super stressed and overwhelmed right now. But I’m trying my best and I hope this little imagine will make up for it a bi my :)
Please don’t plagiarize my work!
What you’d done had been reckless. You knew that now.
Even if you’d know before, it still wouldn’t have changed your mind. You became a runner for a reason: because you were determined to find a way out of this damn maze. Even if that meant you didn’t actually make it out with everyone else.
These boys, for the short amount of time you’ve grown to know them, have become your family.
Sure, some of them got on your nerves. Some didn’t know how to stop with the teasing and constant flirting but a select few: Alby, Newt, Minho, Chuck, Gally and so many more — they were your family. You’d do anything for them.
You wanted them to survive, to get out of this maze and live a life worth living. So damn if that meant you weren’t included. You’d do whatever it’d take.
Gally didn’t think the same.
He thought your actions today were reckless. He hated the thought that you possibly could’ve died today; that he’d never be able to see you again. The thought both disturbed and terrified him.
He’d been mad at you since you came back from the maze.
So, as you sat there, having finished your dinner, you didn’t have the interest in joining the rest in their chatting and good fun. Gally had barely spoken to you all night and it left you with a somber feeling. You missed his touch and reassurement.
You missed the side of him he’d only show you.
Celebrating just didn’t feel right.
You say off on your own, huddled up in a corner as you stared at really nothing. You were stuck in your thoughts, wondering how you were going to get Gally to see everything from your side of things. How you were going to get him to understand why you’d done what you had.
He was stubborn and it was clear that he felt it necessary early on to protect you from harm. To have failed doing just that today, Gally must be beating himself up.
Shivering, you hug yourself tighter, your frown deepening as you wipe at your eyes hastily. You didn’t know what you were crying about; if Gally couldn’t bother to listen to you, then he wasn’t worth it.
But, you missed him...
You jump at the sudden feeling of a blanket falling over your shoulders. A gasp leaves your lips as you flicker your gaze upwards, meeting none other then Gallys gaze. Your lips part as he takes a seat next you, hugging the blanket close to you as he pulls you into his side.
It takes a minute to gain the courage to speak. “You’re not mad at me anymore?”
“No,” Gally says, not missing a beat, “I am. But...” then, he slowly flickers his gaze to meet your already raised one, shrugging. “I know I don’t really have a right to be, so...”
Frowning at his words, you allow yourself to lean into him.
“Plus, you looked cold.”
You smile at the thought. Gally was stubborn, but even when he was mad at you that didn’t mean he stopped caring for you.
He was still putting you first, like always.
Let me know what you thought!
1K notes · View notes
My client wanted me to prepare a content plan based on four presentations about their new campaign strategy.
They sent me the presentations – they were very confusing. Parts contradicted each other, and at no point did they explain the purpose, nor the message, of the campaign.
Me: Hey, I’m going over these presentations and they’re not very clear. Can I get some more details from you directly?
Client: Everything you need to know is in those presentations.
Working with what I had, I created several proposals. Each one was rejected WITHOUT COMMENT. At this point, I gave up.
Me: Look, I’m sorry but I’m really in the weeds here. Can you give me some specific examples of the message you want to send? I’m confused about the whole campaign.
Their response was pure gold:
Client: Well, we’re pretty confused here too. We’re not sure what our campaign should say either.
1K notes · View notes
I wish you would write a fic where Derek is turning 40, and it's not like he really cares, but come on, someone from the pack would remember and send a text at least right? And maybe someone is planning a little something?
Sidenote: I played this song on repeat while writing this. Also that little sigh on “I can hardly catch my breath” does things to me. Just get past the corny “drip drops” at the beginning, and enjoy.
It was an unseasonably warm winter, so instead of festive and cozy Christmas snow flurries, it’d just been grey and drizzling all day. It matched Derek’s mood perfectly.
Stiles would mock him mercilessly if he could see him, puttering around town alone in his Camaro, glaring out at the Christmas decorations. It was sad, he could admit that to himself, but he’d already spent too much time moping alone in the house so he went outside for a bit. He’d thought that maybe walking through town and seeing the decorations would help lift his spirits. He and Stiles had done that before, it was worth a shot.
Nope. Doing things alone that he enjoyed with Stiles just made him more miserable.
The pack’s Christmas celebration had been the night before, as it was every year. That way they could celebrate together and with their individual families, which was perfect, because December 25th was Derek’s birthday. Christmas Eve was for the holiday, but once the clock struck midnight, carols stopped, gingerbread cookies got shoved in a cupboard, and the birthday party hats came out.
Stiles was adamant about having no overlap between the two whatsoever—militant, even. Kira wore reindeer antlers past the midnight alarm one year a decade ago, and she was almost banished from the house. No one had made that mistake again.
Derek always insisted it wasn’t necessary, told him to chill out, that he was overreacting, but he really did appreciate it. Growing up, he’d always hated getting the joint “for birthday and Christmas” presents while his siblings got two distinct gifts, and even as he got older, he couldn’t fully shake the annoyance that Christmas stole his thunder.
So normally it was a full day with Stiles giving him plenty of attention and cake and gifts, and making sure the flurry of the holiday didn’t penetrate their little bubble, but this year Stiles was gone. He was off on another continent spending the day with people Derek only knew through stories, and Derek was alone. Letting Christmas carols play on the radio as he drove through town with the windshield wipers going to keep the rain at bay.
He’d only lasted maybe half an hour before giving up and turning back towards their empty home to mope through an angsty book and go to bed early.
The rain had only picked up as he turned onto their winding driveway, and even the front porch winking through the trees was dulled through the weather.
The Jeep was the only car parked in front of the garage, exactly where Stiles left it a month before, but when Derek go out of the Camaro, he could smell that the rest of the pack had been there recently. There were tire tracks in the gravel, Lydia’s perfume in the cold, wet air. They were trying to be subtle and surprise him, but they weren’t doing a very good job. The wards hid the heartbeats inside from being heard, but everything else was broadcast loud and clear.
Derek rolled his eyes and headed towards the front door. Even after all these years, almost twenty, they were still about as subtle as…well, as they’d ever been. It wasn’t exactly a surprise when it came out that most of Beacon Hills more or less knew that the supernatural existed, to put it kindly. Redheaded banshees screaming into the night and teenage werewolves with rage issues streaking down main street didn’t go as unnoticed as the pack liked to believe.
The curtain on the front window rustled as Derek passed, a light turned off somewhere deeper in the house—but he stopped short when he noticed the sparkles on the front steps.
It was sparkly metallic confetti, glinting in the glow from the porch light. Leading towards their door.
It wasn’t a distinct trail, nothing intentional, but definitely a path of confetti, like a bag from a party store had been leaking. A few were shaped like 40th and were pink and gold, so it clearly wasn’t for Christmas.
He couldn’t be too annoyed. They’d clearly gone all out this year for forty, probably trying to compensate for the fact that Stiles was stuck in Warsaw on an assignment. The pool of FBI agents with extensive knowledge of the supernatural who also spoke Polish was pretty small, it turned out, and a spouse’s birthday wasn’t actually a good excuse to leave.
Derek wasn’t really bitter; it was impressive that at thirty-four, Stiles had become so indispensable to the FBI and was doing so well, but he was just…bummed. They’d planned to be together this year, Stiles had insisted that he’d be able to make it back in time, but then a vampire got a complex, and then there were six more vampires, and things escalated, and the ABW needed a few extra hands…
It was an honor that they’d asked Stiles to stay, but still. Derek was bummed, and as nice as the intentions were behind it, confetti wasn’t going to cut it. Right at that moment, all he could think of was the little 40th’s getting caught in the vacuum with all the wolf fur and blocking things.
A curtain moved again as he climbed the steps, and Derek briefly considered turning right back around and driving away again. He couldn’t deal with a birthday party, with people, not after the miserable, lonely day he’d had. He just wanted to have a quiet night and go to bed early. He did, actually, turn around for a couple steps before he realized he was being ridiculous.
It was his house, it was his pack, he could do this for a few minutes before asking for some privacy. They knew him, they wouldn’t be offended. They’d understand.
He braced himself, took a solid minute to put the key in the lock, but he finally convinced himself to enter his own home, to find…Stiles. Standing alone in the empty foyer, surrounded by more confetti and holding a pączek with a candle stabbed into the top. There were no other heartbeats in the house, no pack members hidden behind corners waiting for a cue to jump out…
It was just them.
Stiles smiled quietly, tiredly. “Surprise,” he shrugged, and lit the single candle on the pączek with a shitty, pink Bic lighter that took a few flicks to light.
Derek fought back a grin for a second, then let it come out in full, and Stiles’ smile widened to mirror it.
“You’re a dick,” Derek stated, pulling off his damp jacket and letting it drop to the floor. Stiles has done the confetti and curtain rustling on purpose.
“Yeah, well you’re the guy who almost ran from his own fake birthday party, so guess we’re meant to be after all.” He held out the dessert. “Make a wish, asshole.”
Derek stepped forward and blew out the candle immediately. Stiles frowned.
“That wasn’t a wish.”
“I don’t need a wish,” Derek countered, pulling him in by his hips. “You’re home.”
Stiles smiled again, and leaned in for the offered kiss. “You’re the corniest motherfucker on the planet, you know that?”
“You’re the one who brought me a pączek from Poland.” It was adorable, and thoughtful, and it smelled a little stale, but he was so happy to see his stupid husband, and relieved they didn’t have any guests…
“I got it at the airport, actually,” Stiles started to ramble, “because I didn’t know I was going to make it back until I got through security—oh, also if you were expecting birthday sex, we’ll have to delay it for a while, because it’s like five in the morning for me and I think I’m seeing two of you right now.”
“You can make it up to me in the morning,” Derek murmured, wrapping his arms around Stiles and holding him, breathing him in, filtering out the smells of airport and strangers and travel.
“Ehhh,” Stiles squeezed him back tightly, leaning on him heavily like standing took too much energy. “I’m not twenty anymore, we’ll see how it’s going around noon or so.”
994 notes · View notes
The Little Guy
The Little Guy: A Bruce Banner Fanfic
Character Pairing: Bruce Banner x reader
Word Count: 2329
Warnings: Angsty a little fluffy a little. Nothing to worry about.
Synopsis: After the big guy you had been getting to know changes into a much smaller guy you offer him some help.
A/N: okay I know I said 2, but 3 it is.
The Little Guy
Bruce Banner scrambled back from you, the woman whose arms were just a moment ago wrapped around him. You were a stranger but somehow you seemed familiar to him. The last thing he remembered was being holed up in an apartment building in Florida.
Then… then… a swat team had bashed down his door.
He looked around panicked. “Who are you?”
You both said the words at the same time and it startled him even more. He looked around at the wide open field he was in. It was bordered by forest and a cabin stood at one end and at the other, an old barn with brightly colored childish pictures painted down the side.
He looked down at himself. He was naked and a chain of daisies hung around his neck. Nothing was adding up. He looked back up at you and saw the same confusion on your face. “Where am I? How long was he…? Oh god, did he hurt you? Are you okay? What did he do?” He said coming a little closer to you.
You stumbled back from him. “You - you’re naked.” You stuttered.
Bruce looked down at himself and quickly grabbed the oversized pair of pants that had pooled around his ankles and pulled them up covering himself awkwardly. He looked down at himself again. The pants were handmade, and a lot of care had been taken in the stitching. The daisy chain still hung from his neck. It was clear that daintier fingers than the other guy’s would have been needed to make it. He looked over at the barn again taking in the simple artwork that reached high up on the wall and suddenly everything clicked in place. “Have I been living here?”
“Who are you?” You asked again, still cowering from him. “What happened to Hulk?”
“That’s … I’m the Hulk,” Bruce said, looking you up and down. “Well, I mean, I’m not … did he hurt you? What’s going on? How long has it been?”
“How can you be Hulk?” You yelled. Bruce startled and backed away from you a bit more.
“It … I was doing these test. I made a miscalculation. He’s the result.” Bruce explained hoping you’d stop panicking soon because he really needed to panic right now. “Please, when he’s in control I … I’m not anywhere.”
You shook your head. “I don’t know. You’ve been here with me for two months.”
“What’s the date?” He asked you. “And where’s here?”
You took a couple of deep steadying breaths, calming yourself. You had just seen the giant green man you had been getting to know transform before your eyes into this much smaller white man. If you could get used to the Hulk being around, you could get used to this. “Come inside. I think there should be some clothes that fit you. My dad and uncles come up here a lot.”
After you have given him a change of clothes and make him tea you sit down and fill him in. You tell him the when and the where. You tell him how you met the Hulk. How you’d become friends. That you were just planning on going back home because you needed to work.
He, in turn, tells you about the experiments that made him what he is. How the government had come for him. How they wanted to use him as a weapon.
“I can’t believe he was in charge for almost 4 months. It’s usually something that goes away when I sleep.” Bruce said, shaking his head. “You’re sure he didn’t hurt you?”
“Do I look hurt?” You asked. The question had become a little tiresome and this whole situation was making you feel a little frayed at the edges.
“No. But, that’s out of character. I just - I can’t get my head around…” He said shaking his head. “You said he talked to you?”
“Yes. We were friends. Well, he’s kind of like a little kid. But he’d come when there was cooking. We played little games together. He liked to paint and one time he sat still and let me paint his skin like it was a canvas.” You explained.
Bruce shook his head again and he ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what to do. Or where to go. All my stuff was in Florida.”
You sat back in your chair and rubbed your temples. “We’re pretty far from Florida.”
“I know.” Bruce lamented.
You didn’t say anything for a while. “I’m completely cut off here. You can stay but I don’t know what you would do for money. And other people in my family come up here.”
“I know. That’s - that’s not fair to you. I’ll try and figure something out. If I had a phone maybe… I don’t know.” He said looking at his hands.
You sighed and there was a silence again for a few moments. “You can come stay with me. I don’t know. If you’re really wanted. I live in the city. But I have a loft and it’s big. There’s a rooftop garden. You can stay. Figure out your next move.”
He looked at you like a hopeful puppy. All that was missing was the wagging tail. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”
“No. That’s okay. I don’t know you, but I knew him. I’ll trust you because I trust him.” You answered.
Bruce shook his head like he was trying to clear it. “That was not something I thought I’d ever hear in my life. I really don’t understand anything that’s happening right now.”
You and Bruce made the long drive back into the city with only two stop. You got fuel and grabbed some gas station snacks and the crappy egg salad sandwiches they sold and then stopped at the next off the road rest stop. It was one of those ones that always seem like the place hill people select their next victims in b grade horror movies. You’d stretched and eaten by the side of the road before moving on your way.
By the time you arrived home, it was past midnight and you were both exhausted but you knew a whole lot more about each other. This small soft-spoken man was the opposite to the Hulk in so many ways but it was strange because you could still see him in there.
You led him up to your loft. It was a large industrial style space that was broken into two. The first part was your living room, gallery, kitchen, and studio. There were racks of finished paintings standing on one side of the room and racks of empty canvases on the other. Several of your favorite paintings hung on the wall and there were a few unfinished pieces next to crates of paints and brushes in the corner. A large couch sat in the middle of the room with a coffee table covered in stacks of sketchbooks and piles of pencils and charcoal. The room on the other end of the loft was your bedroom on the left and a bathroom with an old clawfoot tub on the right.
“The couch folds out.” You said pointing to it. “I’ll get you some blankets. I might have some of my exes clothes here. He was bigger than you. If you tell me your size I can duck out and get you some more clothes.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Bruce said meekly, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. “You’ve already done enough.”
You waved him off. “You can’t just wear ill-fitting clothes the whole time. I sewed for Hulk, I can shop for you. I have to go out anyway buy some food.” You grabbed some blankets, sheets, pillows, and towels and brought them back to him in a stack. “Here you go. The bathrooms through there.” You said, pointing. “I’m just going to get ready to sleep and crash after that make yourself at home.
The following day you made good on your promise going out and picking up groceries and clothes. When you get home you try to get your life back on track. Returning to your art as Bruce tries to figure out what to make his next move.
That took a lot longer than you both thought. He had money but accessing it meant the government would be able to track him. He had friends and people in the deep web but he wasn’t sure which of them had sold him out.
You would tell him it was fine but to begin with it kind of wasn’t. It was hard working with him always around. It was hard to relax. Letting a strange man stay with you occasionally felt like the stupidest thing you could possibly have done. But as days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months it became fine. He helped out around the apartment, cleaning, filing your paintings. He worked in the garden. He fixed those little niggling issues that had been plaguing the place. He helped you with some IT things, setting up a website to organize clients to come through and to sell paintings online. He kept saying these things weren’t his expertise but he did them without being asked anyway.
He started doing science in a corner you let him set up for himself. Often just checking his own blood. Not that he exactly had a lab anymore. You’d bought a few second-hand things for him on eBay. You felt like you owed him for the things he had done for you, even though he said he’d done them because he owed you for what you’d done for him.
You missed the Hulk occasionally but there were times when you could see a green glint in his eyes or he’d smile a certain way and you could see him as clear as day.
On paper, you and Bruce Banner were so different. He was quiet and analytical. He liked logic and structure. Science was his passion and put so much of himself into it. Whereas you were chaotic and noisy. You liked mess and sound. You were an artist right down to your core. Yet somehow you just worked well together. Gradually you realized that this wasn’t just the feeling you had for your friends. You were actually a little bit in love with him.
It was a Wednesday night and you were taking a bath. You had a bath pillow behind your head and there were candles burning on the windowsill. You had thrown a bath bomb in the water and now you sat soaking in the vanilla scented water that swirled, pink and blue around you.
There was a knock on the door and when you told him it was safe, Bruce came in holding two mugs in his hands.
“Made you tea.” He said offering you a cup.
You took it and had a sip watching Bruce as he sat on the end of the tub.
“I made contact with a friend of an old colleague. I haven’t said who I am exactly or where. I think he might be able to help me with at least a part of my problem and if he’s gone, then the military might stop caring about me too.” He said.
“I wish you wouldn’t call him a problem.” You said putting your cup down on the corner of the bath.
Bruce sighed. “You don’t know what it’s like. I lose time. He destroys things. I never know if I’ve hurt or killed people when I come back.”
You rubbed his leg, leaving a wet patch on his pants. “I know. But he’s not bad. I think he’s trying to protect you.”
“He hates me,” Bruce said.
You shrugged. “If you say so.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. He just sat holding his tea and looking down into the colorful water.
“Why don’t you get in?” You asked.
He looked at you startled. “What?”
“Get in with me.” You repeated.
He looked around the room and a deep blush crept into his cheeks. “But…”
“I’ve seen you naked before. And you’re comfortable enough to just be sitting there. Why not?” You asked. It wasn’t a demand. Just a suggestion. He looked at you trying to assess if you were serious before putting his own mug down and getting up.
He stripped off his clothes turned away from you like he was trying to keep his modesty.
“You want me to close my eyes?” You asked.
He shrugged a little and turned to face you pushing his pants down and quickly stepping into the water. The water level rose right to the lip but didn’t spill over. There was a moment where Bruce didn’t seem to know where he wanted to put his feet, but eventually, he nestled them in on each side of your hips.
“You don’t seem very relaxed.” You teased.
“I just - you don’t think this is weird?” He asked.
“I would have thought given how we met, nothing is really that weird.” You answered relaxing back in the water. He kept staring at you, his body stiff and uncomfortable looking. “Bruce. You didn’t have to get in you know.”
He didn’t say anything, he just kept staring. “I like you too, you know?”
You looked him in the eye. “I know.”
“It can’t happen. I want it to. But… I have such a thin hold and if he comes out…” He said.
“What? I’d show him my art and we’d do some painting together? It’s not like my loft isn’t big enough to hold him.” You shot back. “I know him, Bruce. Better than you do.”
Bruce sighed and looked you over. For a moment you thought he was angry at you. He suddenly lunged forward making the water from the bath splash violently over the side and his mouth was on yours. You wrapped your arms around him and sinking back into the water and smiling into the kiss.
1K notes · View notes
practicing lines ☆ ricky bowen
nothing says high school plays like two lead actors hating each other to their core
warnings: slight angst, slight fluff, some swearing, heavy making out
part I , part II
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
If there is one thing Y/N hated most, it was Richard Bowen.
Richard “Ricky” Bowen was the high school sweetheart. The most polite and respectful man in his grade, and probably his school. He held the door for anyone and everyone, he offers to help his teachers in need of grading test papers, and he seems to be the perfect boyfriend material. That’s not what you thought.
You despise everything about him. The reason for your resentment was due to the fact that you got the part for Gabriella when he wanted Nini to get the part so they could rekindle their broken love. Ever since then, he has been nothing but rude and obnoxious to you. You did everything you could to try and make peace with him, but he only cared about his stupid plan to fix his own mistakes.
It was clear to the whole school of the mutual hatred between you two. Although Miss Jenn tried to warm you up to each other with her bonding exercises and one-on-one script read throughs, nothing was more powerful than your anger for each other.
Today, after learning that the school’s stage was mysteriously burned down, you all traveled to the El Ray Theatre.
“Ok kids, let’s go to page five.” She yelled, taking her clipboard and standing on the side with Carlos.
You scrambled through your bag, grabbing the heavy script that Carlos printed out for you. You turn on your heels swiftly, only to crash into your ignorant co-star.
“Watch it, happy feet.” Rick snarled, towering over you.
“Why not give me some personal space, Richard?” You smirked. “Almost makes me think you have a crush on me.”
“You fucking wish, Y/N.”
“Language, Ricky.” Miss Jenn warned.
You give him an innocent smile, turning your back on him as you walked to center stage. You heard him groan under his breath as he trailed behind you.
You both stood next to each other, or five feet apart from each other, flipping the pages of your script to the next scene. You quickly skimmed through the page, reading through the scene you were about to act out.
“Let’s go to the scene where Troy and-”
You heard a loud snap coming from the ceiling. “Watch out!” Someone from the back screeched.
You felt a strong pair of arms grab you and pull you to their body, covering your head. A large sand bag fell from the roof, making everyone around you scream and hold on to each other.
“Is everyone ok?” You heard Seb cry out.
You look up from your hands that covered your eyes and saw horror in everyone’s eyes, from the sack to you. Confused, you remembered that you were in someone’s grasp. You look up and see Ricky, breathing heavily. He looked at you and everything was quiet.
You pushed yourself off of him, sweeping your body from the dust in the air. Ricky did the same, clearing his throat and avoiding your gaze.
“Maybe we should take a five.” Miss Jenn hummed, “Ricky and Y/N can go and look for a quiet, hopefully safer place to practice lines while the rest of us can figure out how to work the lights and not die.”
“Wow, not even a goddamn thank you for saving your life?” Ricky asked annoyingly as he closed the door behind him.
You had both found a hidden storage room in the dusty halls of the theatre. Inside were worn out dresses with threads popping out, multiple broken chairs probably used during performances, and an old piano.
You rolled your eyes, “No one asked you to save me, Dicky.”
“What did you just call me?” He growled.
“I said Dicky.” You spat. You dusted off the chair of the piano before sitting down, leaving room for Ricky.
He rolled his eyes and took off his navy hoodie. His shirt went up a little, revealing his toned chest. You forced yourself to stop staring and tried to ignore him as he sat down, leaving as much room in between you two as possibly without falling off the bench. His hands grazed they top of the piano before pressing his fingers on top of the keys. He began to mess around with the notes, playing small and random tunes. His eyes were glued to the instrument as he played, and you noticed a small smile forming on his lips as he practiced . You almost forgot about everything as you listened to him play. Watching him focus on his music brought a shiver to your body, and almost a warm feeling in your stomach. You had never felt this towards Ricky, all you felt was anger. But now, this whole new feeling brought a new light to you.
“Should we start practicing our lines?” Ricky asked, turning to look at you. A heat ran to your cheeks as you both stared at each other. You noticed a change in his eyes and saw him glance down at your lips once.
“Yeah, uhm, go to page five.” You said, turning away and grabbing your script from the top of the piano.
Ricky was still in shock of what happened. He got up from the bench and grabbed his script from a tall, wooden shelf next to the door. He watched as you turn around the seat to face him, still looking at your script. He noticed your tongue stick out ever so slightly which made him smile. He quickly wiped the smile from his face, bewildered by his reaction.
“I don’t need my script, do you?” You ask softly.
His throat went dry as he looked at you, your hair falling slightly over your flushed cheeks. Something in him clicked, and his knees began to grow heavy.
“No, you’re perfect-that’s perfect.” He rambled.
You kept the page of the scene open and placed the script next to you on the bench. “Remember in kindergarten, you’d meet a kid, know nothing about them, then ten seconds later, you were best friends?” You recite.
“Yeah.” Ricky mumbled.
“Singing with you felt like that.”
“I never thought about singing, that’s for sure. Until you. And now,” He said, gazing into your eyes. “And now,” He repeated, seeming lost.
“What an actor you are.” You joked, giggling a little.
“What does that mean?” He asked somewhat annoyingly.
“It was a joke, Ricky. Calm down.” You countered, standing up as you got more irritated. “You can’t take a joke?”
“I’m sorry, aren’t you the one who can’t even thank someone for saving their life?”
“That bag was no where near me, idiot. What were you trying to save me from? Dust bunnies?” You yelled.
Ricky scoffed, “And to think I thought we were getting better at being nicer to each other. I’ve tried so hard to make things between us better but clearly you don’t want that. I’m just waisting my time.”
You were taken back. “How is all of this my fault? You are the one who started getting pissed off at me for getting the lead when you wanted Nini. Is that why you fucking hate me? Because I’m not your ex girlfriend who is happy with her new boyfriend?” You screamed, your fists curled into each other tightly.
Ricky’s rich brown eyes grew shinier, his mouth agape and in shock. Neither of you have fought like this before.
“I’m sorry.” He said, taking the smallest step towards you. You took a small step back, feeling yourself close to the wall. “I’m an idiot.”
“That’s one way to put it.” You mumbled, stepping back one more step as you hit the door
“Look, I know it was wrong for me to be mad at you for getting the part. I was so caught up in the idea of me winning back Nini like they do in the movies that I totally disregarded your feelings too.” He confessed. “I started to realized how wrong I was about you a while ago, but we were so deep into our frustration for each other I didn’t know what to do but to try and start being more polite. I’m the worst guy in the world and you never deserved to be treated like a dick, it was all my fault.”
“I shouldn’t have been so rude either.” You muttered, “It was childish for me to retaliate with an attitude instead of just working it out, you know? I deserved some of the harshness from you.”
“Can we agree that this was on the both of us?” He begged, letting out a little laugh.
“Yeah, for sure.” You replied, softly laughing as you brought your attention to the floor.
You stared at your shoes and dusted off your jeans. You felt Ricky stare at you, so you looked up. His lower lip was caught in between his teeth, slowly turning his soft lips red. You couldn’t help but steal glances from his eyes to his lips, noticing Ricky do the same.
“I feel as though I owe you an apology.” He started, moving closer to you. His slim body towered over your own.
“Oh, you do. I expect an amazing gift to make up for this.” You smirked.
One of his hands went to your chin, grabbing it gently as the other went to your waist. Your hands rested on his chest.
“I have an idea.” Ricky whispered before he crashed his lips to yours.
His large hand moved from your chin to your waist. Your arms slid from his chest to around his neck, and curled up into his own curly hair. His grip on your waist tightened and pulled you closer to him, making sure to leave no space in between you. You tugged his hair, making him let out a low groan. You smiled at his reaction. His hands slid down your waist and under your butt, motioning you to jump. You jumped up and wrapped your legs around his waist, and he slammed you up against the door. He began to trail kisses from your lips to your neck, and you tried your best to hold in a moan. You felt the marks he was leaving from your neck to your collarbone. You moved his head back up and brought your lips to his again.
“I knew you had a crush on me.” You breathed out. He bit your bottom lip, making you gasp, and letting his tongue slip through.
Ricky walked back to the piano and sat down, letting you straddle his waist. You latched your lips to his neck, leaving matching marks on his neck. He let out small moans, gripping your hips tighter as you went on. Your hands went to the hem of his shirt, tugging at it so he would take it off.
“Ricky? Y/N? Are you two in here? This door is jammed!” You heard Big Red call out from past the wooden door.
You both quickly pulled away, getting up from his lap and readjusting your shirt. Ricky did the same to his messy hair. He swiftly grabbed his hoodie he left on the piano and tossed it you, motioning at your neck with the numerous marks he left.
“Yeah we’re here! Just push the door.” He replied. He moved one of his hands to the side of his neck, hoping to subtly cover up the red scars you left him.
You managed to put Ricky’s hoodie on before Red opened the door. You took in the scent of his cologne and adjusted the collar more up to hide your bruises.
“Miss Jenn is having a midlife crisis so we’re going to order pizza. Are you guys good with pepperoni and soy cheese?” He wondered.
“Yeah, totally fine.” You answered. Ricky gave a small nod to his friend.
Red was quick to notice you wearing Ricky’s clothing on your body, but didn’t want to question it out of fear for his life. He gave a simple “ok” and left without question, knowing he would just demand answers out of his best friend later.
Ricky turned back to you, scratching the back of his neck. “About what just happened-”
“We can discuss over our next read through together.” You interrupted, giving him a soft smile.
“How about the movies tomorrow? At 8?” He asked hopefully.
You gave him a smile and walked up to him, going to peck his lips only to be pulled back by Ricky for another sweet kiss.
You both walked back to your friends who were scattered around the main entrance of the theatre. Everyone noticed you two holding hands, Ricky’s hoodie, and the obvious makeup on his neck. You both acted as though nothing happened.
You were pulled away by Carlos and Ashlyn, noticing Red going for Ricky. “Excuse me, last time I remembered you and Ricky were about to murder each other.” He mumbled quickly.
“What do you mean? We just had a really, really heated argument right now.” You defended, playing with the sleeves of his larger hoodie.
“Is there something on your neck? Oh my god Y/N did you and Ri-”
Miss Jenn bursted through the door happily, “Alright kids, let’s go back to school!”
A/N - well heres another imagine !!! this one was fun to write and more steamy so ur welcome ! im thinking of doing a part 2 to breakdown, so let me know what u think or send me suggestions or requests of what to write next :)) love y’all
1K notes · View notes
- piss off! ( 𝐓.𝐂 )
anonymous : What about a live where the reader’s ex joins and starts messing with tim so the reader has to put him/her in place and to defend tim ?
THE FIC CONTAINS exes, fem!reader, fluff afterwards & someone named kyle baynard is now your ex, alrighty??
𝐌 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓
the live had been going on for thirty minutes now. you’d spent most of it talking to your fans and joking around with your boyfriend, timothée. everything was obviously going fine until you saw a comment from your ex. the relationship didn’t end well, to say the least and you’d been left heartbroken. luckily, you found someone who treated you way better.
kylebaynard: i got replaced by him? wow.
you ignored the comment, discreetly rolling your eyes and leaning up to peck timmy’s cheek.
the boy hummed happily at the affection, it was clear he didn’t see the comments because of the many other ones pouring it.
userone: they look so happy 🥺
usertwo: if my relationship isn’t like there’s, throw it away
kylebaynard: everyone thinks you two are cute when i treated you way better than him 💀
userthree: y’all...dont see this kyle baynard man commenting stuff?
you ignored the comment yet again, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from screaming at him. what was his point? he needed to move on since you were clearly in a much healthier relationship.
“you guys would not think we were cute if you saw how much this woman bullies me.” timothée said, pulling you out of your thoughts.
you gasped, laughing at his words. “okay, first of all, false. i don’t bully you!” you denied. “you’re lying to your fans like that, huh?”
“oh, you don’t? are you sure?”
userfour: theirbantertheirbantertheirbanter 🥺
kylebaynard: ignoring my comments? just tryna tell you how much you should be with me instead of this guy
userfive: how are y’all not married
usersix: adopt me right now.
now, it was to the point where you had to say something.
“alright, if you don’t like our relationship then leave. it’s not hard. i don’t want anyone else and timothée has treated me better than anyone i’ve ever been with. piss off if you have a problem with that.” you spat.
if you looked at him, you would’ve seen him looking at you, stunned. that wasn’t something he expected. “well...you heard the lady.” he said with a laugh.
userseven: GO OFF BABY
usereight: she snapped
usernine: im TELLING you it was because of that kyle dude, tell me im not the only one who saw his comments
usernine: he real quiet now, though
userten: this is why we don’t piss y/n off
1K notes · View notes
Pediatrician Who Exposed Flint Water Crisis Shares Her 'Story Of Resistance'
In August of 2015, Dr. Mona Hanna-Attisha was having a glass of wine in her kitchen with two friends, when one friend, a water expert, asked if she was aware of what was happening to the water in Flint, Mich.
Hanna-Attisha, a pediatrician in Flint, knew that the city had changed its water source the previous year. Instead of channeling water from the Great Lakes, residents were now drinking water from the nearby Flint River. She had been aware of some problems with bacteria after the switch, but she thought everything had been cleared up.
Her friend warned otherwise: "She said, 'Mona, the water isn't being treated properly. It's missing something called corrosion control. ... Without that corrosion control, there is going to be lead,' " Hanna-Attisha remembers.
The possibility that the city's drinking water had been tainted by lead raised alarms in Hanna-Attisha; exposure to lead can result in long-term cognitive and behavioral problems, especially in children.
As Hanna-Attisha began reviewing her patients' medical record, she noticed that the percentage of children with elevated lead levels had increased after the water switch. But when she shared her data at a hospital press conference, government officials tried to discredit her.
"The state said that I was an unfortunate researcher, that I was causing near hysteria, that I was splicing and dicing numbers," Hanna-Attisha says. "It's very difficult when you are presenting science and facts and numbers to have the state say that you are wrong."
But Hanna-Attisha refused to give up. Instead, she spearheaded efforts to publicize and address the water crisis in Flint. She writes about her experiences in the book What the Eyes Don't See.
"This is a story of resistance, of activism, of citizen action, of waking up and opening your eyes and making a difference in our community," she says. "I wrote this book to share the terrible lessons that happened in Flint, but more importantly, I wrote this book to share the incredible work that we did, hand-in-hand with our community, to make our community care about our children."
Photos: Carlos Osorio/AP
1K notes · View notes