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#i hope you can always find a pen when you need one and it always works
catmask · 23 hours
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do you ever find it hard to just....Keep Drawing? what keeps you motivated? what keeps you inspired? i've been finding it hard to pick up a pen lately despite loving drawing and wanting to do it more than anything, how do you do it? also, i hope you have a nice day!!
oh i absolutely do. i think like.. last night i was having a bit of a rough one. and talking to my boyfriend about it.
sometimes motivation for anything (not just art) feels like if i stop moving, ill fall flat on my face. its difficult for me to get going, especially if i get interrupted or get suddenly thrown into a social situation.
on one hand, drawing has always been my stim/self soothing activity of choice (as im autistic). but 'work drawing' can sometimes be difficult when im scared i might be interrupted in the middle of the day, or if someone might need me to like 'be a person' suddenly.
all this to say, i try my best to stay motivated by taking care of my body and my brain, because if those things go out of whack then i know for sure i wont be able to draw well. and then, in terms of artistic motivation... i look at other people's art, and i go on walks a lot.. and i spend a lot of time alone with my brain/feelings.
art sort of is just like... an engine through which i am taking the outside world, processing it and pulling it through to show everyone how i feel about it. sometimes its as simple as 'this thing was beautiful, i want to show you' 'this thing was cute, i want to show you' but sometimes its also 'this is something i learned, let me teach you' 'this is something that hurt me, let me heal it with you'
... in a lot of ways if i dont keep drawing, i dont know how id communicate with other people, really. so i guess, i have to keep drawing because id get very lonely otherwise.
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somecunttookmyurl · 3 months
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the "all customer service people are trained by management to be illiterate apes you can never get any resolutions by design dont be mean about it" crowd would faint to know there is a guy at my bank RIGHT NOW attempting to resolve an issue that would normally take a week
see. i tried to order food (having nothing of note in the house, and too much pain currently to get down 3 flights of stairs about it) and the payment failed on just eat's end.
but it went through fine on my bank's end, so the funds are tied up in "pending"... for a week. my available balance is now 95p so i can't just do it again
the bank cannot typically do anything about this until the normal time frame for collection passes and they funds just release automatically. just eat have zero contactable customer service
but it is for FOOD and there's no more MONEY and i am a DISABLED CUSTOMER so BY FUCKING GOD not on zeeshan's watch
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ellemj · 4 months
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Bigger Than He Was
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT
Request by @littlemiss-yeehaw: jealous!Bucky, fake dating, handjob.
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Summary: Bucky pretends to be your new man when you run into your ex in public. However, the little act of pretending sparks something inside of him that he didn't know was there.
Warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption, handjob, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight size kink, jealous!Bucky, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 7.8k
A/N: The first request I wrote from the smut menu had to be from my Tumblr best friend. Not only does she pre-read nearly everything that I post, but she keeps me from deleting my blog on a near daily basis, and she keeps me sane. I hope you all enjoy it as much as she did. If it wasn't for this girl, my blog would've been deleted before Needs & Wants was ever completed lmao.
            You’ve decided that no one in the world looks more out of place than a super soldier in a grocery store. Specifically, a super soldier in the produce aisle of a small local market. He looks like a bull in a China shop as he scours through a bin of tomatoes to find ones he approves of. He holds one tomato in each of his leather gloved hands as he compares them carefully, acting like choosing between the two is every bit as difficult as deciding whether someone lives or dies in his usual line of work.
            “They’re pretty much the same, Bucky, and we only need two. Just put them in a bag.”  You say with a sigh, resting your elbows on the handle of the shopping cart that you’ve been pushing as you’ve trailed behind him. Though you’re the one carrying the team’s grocery list, Bucky’s been the one pulling things off of the shelves and setting them in the cart. You originally suggested each of you taking half of the list and splitting up to get the shopping done faster, and to avoid the pointless arguments and annoyances you’d face in each other’s presence, but Bucky’s only response to your idea was a furrowed brow and silence. So, you’ve been following him around with the shopping cart safely between the two of you.
            Bucky starts to put both of the tomatoes down and pick two different ones just to bother you, but he takes the high road and bags the two he’s already holding instead. He’s usually assigned to grocery shopping with Sam, which he definitely prefers, but with Sam off to visit his family this week, he ended up being stuck with you.
            “What’s next?” Bucky asks, setting the plastic bag of produce in the cart and then casting you a sideways glance. You cross tomatoes off of the small piece of paper in your hand before moving on to read the next item.
            “We’re done with food items, next is ibuprofen, melatonin, and some feminine products.” You answer, lifting your gaze to meet his as you tap the pen against the piece of paper absentmindedly. Bucky nods curtly and starts leading the way down the aisle, knowing all of the aisles with medication, first aid, and toiletry type supplies are on the opposite end of the store. You follow a few feet behind him, missing your usual shopping buddy, Wanda. Though it’s a menial task, you always seem to have a fun time when the two of you are on the grocery schedule for the week. Bucky is a stark contrast to your far more bubbly, lighthearted friend.
            You’re lost in thought as you turn a corner and enter the pharmacy aisle, not paying any attention as Bucky looks through various types of over-the-counter medications. It isn’t until you hear a voice one aisle over that you straighten up and tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The voice sounds familiar, so familiar that you find your ears straining to hear it better so you can identify it. Is it an old friend? Someone from SHIELD? You can’t be sure, but you’re starting to think it isn’t a friend by the way your nerves seem to be rising with every incoherent word that they mutter. You leave Bucky standing at one end of the aisle as you walk ahead, trying to get closer to the source of the voice. You’re nearly at the opposite end of the aisle when suddenly, the front end of another shopping cart appears and quickly turns in front of you, almost colliding with the front end of yours. You stop abruptly for two reasons. The first reason being so you don’t cause a pileup on aisle thirteen. The second reason being because you now see whose voice was causing your heart rate to elevate and your stomach to twist into a knot. Your fucking ex-boyfriend.
            “Oh, wow, hey!” The man before you extends the greeting so casually, as if he didn’t waste a year of your life with meaningless words and empty promises. He raises a hand to rub the back of his neck, his eyes darting over his shoulder just as a pretty blonde woman steps into view. Oh. “This is uh, this is my girlfriend.” He gestures to the woman before looking back at you with a wary glance, clearly trying to gauge how you feel about him committing to someone new so soon. The woman offers a small smile and wave as she introduces herself by name, but it all goes right over your head. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, unable to tear your eyes away from the piece of shit behind the cart full of organic produce and a questionable amount of wine.
            Bucky’s watching everything unfold from a few yards behind, acting as if he’s still deciding between a name brand bottle of ibuprofen and a generic version of the same. He gives you a few seconds to soak in the obviously awkward social situation as his eyes analyze your body language. You’re tense, your grip on the handle of the shopping cart is so tight that your knuckles are turning white. It’s been ten seconds since the woman introduced herself to you and you still haven’t uttered a word. Bucky glances to his right and notices the selection of condoms, lube, and pregnancy tests spread over the shelves next to the medication section. He only takes a second to weigh his options: let you continue to flounder in front of your shitty ex and his new victim or offer you an easy reprieve while simultaneously sending your ex into a mental spiral. His gloved hand wraps around a couple of boxes of pregnancy tests and he pulls them off of the shelf, signifying he’s chosen the latter.
            “Oh, trying for a baby?” Your ex jokes when Bucky approaches from behind you and drops a handful of pregnancy tests into the cart.
            “No, it’s just smart to have a few of these on hand when we only ever fuck raw. Do we know you?” Bucky’s tone is calm and even, like he’s just said something completely within the ordinary. It breaks you out of the trance you were in and you blink your eyes as you feel the heat from Bucky’s body enveloping you in warmth. He cages your body between his and the cart, his chest brushing against your back as he places his hands on either side of yours on the shopping cart handle. You don’t see the way his lips curve upward into a shit-eating grin as your ex’s face falls at both Bucky’s unfiltered words and the public display of affection he’s witnessing.
            “Aren’t you…” The man addresses Bucky with slightly widened eyes and an unsure voice. You almost laugh at the effect Bucky has on the poor guy’s demeanor, and the fact that Bucky towers a few inches over the man is just icing on the cake.
            “Bucky.” Your ex has just realized that not only are you grocery shopping with the Winter Soldier, but you’ve also been letting him fuck you.
---
            Your week has been full of unexpected moments, but two stand out in particular. The first moment was when Bucky so calmly chose to play the role of your fake boyfriend at the grocery store three nights ago. Nearly every waking moment since then has been spent replaying it in your head, wondering why he decided to step in and do that for you, why he decided to take such a blunt approach and tell your ex that the two of you prefer unprotected sex, and how the hell he acted as if nothing happened immediately after the interaction was over. The second moment is unfolding right now. Your eyes are locked in on your phone screen as you mull over the text that’s displayed there.
            Are you free tonight? Would love to sit down and catch up, want to talk about things.
            You don’t have the number saved in your phone but you know exactly who it is. It’s the same shitty ex you ran into two nights ago, the same one who now thinks you’re fucking the Winter Soldier. Before you’ve even considered responding, a second message from the same unsaved number rolls in.
            I’ll be at the bar we used to go to, the one off of 83rd street, in an hour. Hope to see you there.
            The way your face scrunches up in confusion at the sight of the two texts on your phone screen piques Bucky’s interest as he steps off of the elevator and uses the collar of his t-shirt to dab sweat off of his neck. He’s just finished a pretty strenuous workout and had every intention of heading straight to his room to shower and spend the rest of the night in there, but he can’t ignore the feeling of some kind of invisible string tugging him in your direction. It was only two nights ago that he pressed himself against you in the grocery store and pretended like he knew what it’s like to have you in his bed.  It was only two nights ago that you became a near constant thought in the back of his mind.
            “Don’t tell me he texted you.” Bucky’s voice catches you off guard. You lift your gaze from your phone screen and lean back into the couch cushions, attempting to look perfectly at ease in his presence. Truth be told, you’ve been a little on edge around him since the night in the grocery store, but you don’t know why. Maybe because he saw you in such an embarrassing and vulnerable moment, in your own personal hell.
            “He didn’t text me.” You lie, watching him carefully as the elevator doors close behind him and he takes the few steps across the room to reach the sectional you’re currently lounging on. It’s odd to see him sink into the opposite end of the piece of furniture so comfortably, like he’s such a normal guy. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him sit in the living room of his own free will, and it’s a sight to see.
            “You’re a bad liar.” Bucky huffs. His expression turns thoughtful as he thinks back to his encounter with your ex that night. The corners of Bucky’s lips curl up into a smile when he remembers the way the guy practically shrank when he heard that the two of you like to fuck raw. “What does he want?” Bucky seems to have a sixth sense about this shit, so you decide to go with it and tell him the truth, see where it gets you.
            “He said he wants to catch up and talk about things.”
            “Right after seeing you with another guy.” Bucky points out, hoping you’ll see where this is going. You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms over your chest.
            “I guess so, or maybe it’s unrelated. People break up and then discuss it later for closure sometimes, it’s a thing, Bucky.”
            “So, you’re going?”
            “I haven’t decided yet.” You answer honestly. You watch as Bucky nods slowly, as if he’s digesting the information and deciding what to do with it. He uses the collar of his t-shirt to wipe a bit of sweat away from his neck again, drawing your gaze down to the flexing of his bicep. You’re quick to avert your gaze back up to his eyes, but the satisfied smirk on his face tells you that he caught you looking.
            “We’re going.” Bucky decides, sitting up a little straighter on the couch and running a hand through his sweaty hair. The bewildered look that takes over your face says it all.
            “What the hell do you mean we’re going? There’s no we here, it’s just me.”
            “I meant exactly what I said, we’re going.”
---
            You stand in the garage of the compound, where everyone’s various vehicles are stored away safely. Your fingers pick at the frays of your black jeans absentmindedly as you lean against a concrete pillar, waiting for Bucky. You know you should just get in your own car and leave without him, there’s absolutely no good that will come out of letting him tag along for this. Yet, something in the back of your mind is tugging at you to stay and wait for him, to see what might come of this. Looking up at your reflection in the car window a few feet away from you, you take in the sight of your little ensemble. You’re wearing dark jeans paired with a tight little long-sleeved crop top that shows the tiniest bit of your midriff. You wanted to wear something fairly plain yet something that showed a little skin, so this is what you settled on.
            Unbeknownst to you, Bucky’s outfit for tonight will go well with your own. He’s wearing dark jeans as well, but with a dark t-shirt and black leather jacket. As the elevator carries him down to the lowest floor of the compound, he has a brief second of clarity where he asks himself what the fuck he thinks he’s doing. First, he went against every rational thought in his mind when he pretended to be your boyfriend in a damn grocery store. Then, he spent two nights thinking about what it might’ve been like if he actually had been fucking you raw like he’d told to your ex he was. Those two nights ruined him. You ruined him. It took less than 48 hours for his mind to become completely preoccupied with you.
            When the elevator slows to a stop and the doors slide open to let him into the private parking garage beneath the compound, his eyes fall on you instantly. Fuck. One look at you and he’s immediately decided that you’re not taking a car, no, you’re taking his bike. Hell, you’re dressed near-perfectly for it. The only issue is that bit of smooth skin you have showing beneath the hem of your little top, he’s not going to take you out on his bike and risk ruining that perfect skin of yours with road rash.
            The ding of the elevator draws your attention to your right, where Bucky is stepping into the parking garage looking totally different than when you saw him upstairs half an hour ago. His messy hair has been washed and dried, his flesh and metal biceps are hidden within the sleeves of his leather jacket, and his neck is no longer glistening with a sheen of sweat. You’re unashamedly focusing on the way his jeans are accentuating the muscles of his thighs when he starts stripping off his leather jacket.
            “Put this on.” He says as he holds the jacket out to you with one hand, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans with the other to fish out the key for his bike. Your eyes widen as you stare at the jacket in his outstretched hand. Shaking your head, you take a step back from him.
            “Why?”
            “Because you’re not riding on the back of my bike with skin showing, it’s not safe.”
            “The back of your bike? Bucky, we’re taking a car.” You say defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest. Bucky can’t ignore the way your breasts are slightly pushed up by the action, a hint of cleavage peeking out over the lowcut neckline of your top. He quickly averts his gaze back to his motorcycle that stands a few feet in front of you both, a sigh leaving his lips at your stubbornness.
            “Just put on the damn jacket.” He says, looking over at you one more time, but this time with a softened expression. You don’t know why you comply and take the jacket from him, but you do. It’s warmed from his body heat when you slip your arms into it and the way it engulfs you and pulls down on your shoulders with a bit of weight is almost comforting.
            The motorcycle ride to the bar, however, is anything but comforting. The only other time you’ve ever been so close to Bucky was that night at the grocery store when he cozied up behind you for show. But this felt different. This involved your chest pressed against his back, your inner thighs brushing against his hips, and your arms wrapped around his torso. This felt intimate. It felt the same way to Bucky and he couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard he tried. When he stopped at a redlight in the city, you let your hold around his abdomen relax for a moment. Your hands slid down to rest on the tops of his thighs as you remained pressed against his back, and he was praying for the light to turn green again before one of your hands had a chance to shift and find out how hard he was beneath the fabric of his jeans. He can only blame himself for the torture, since he was the one that insisted you take the bike.
            When you turn onto the right street, you’re quick to tap Bucky’s thigh with your hand, completely missing the way he tenses up beneath your unexpected touch. You use that same hand to point to a small parking garage across the street from the bar that you’ll be heading into, and Bucky gets the signal. It’s only two minutes later that he’s parking his bike on the third floor of the garage and trying to keep his eyes off of you as you stand beside the bike, removing your helmet carefully. Some part of him can’t help but think that you’re being so careful because you want to look your best when you waltz into the bar to meet your ex, and he fucking hates it. He has the sudden urge to mess your hair up and send you in there looking like shit. But that urge only makes him think about all of the ways he could mess your hair up. He could grab you by it and pull you against him, he could run his hands through it and rake it into a ponytail while you’re on your knees for him…shit. He just volunteered to drive you to the bar to meet your ex. He can’t do a damn thing.
            You hand Bucky your helmet and immediately start smoothing down your hair, seeing the look of disdain he gives you but choosing to ignore it. He had no obligation to be here with you tonight, but he insisted, so he has to put up with it.
            “You don’t have to go in with me, I can do this on my own.” You say, hoping Bucky will choose to wait for you in the parking garage rather than go inside the bar with you.
            “What are you planning to do?” Bucky asks, swinging his leg over as he dismounts the bike and joins you on the concrete floor. He stands in front of you, slipping his gloves off and resting them on the seat of the bike before reaching under the chin of his helmet to undo the strap there. Your eyes drift to the veins on his flesh hand and golden accents on his vibranium hand as you formulate a believable response.
            “Hear him out, give him closure or whatever he’s here for.”
            “Whatever he’s here for?” Bucky repeats your words almost sarcastically, scoffing beneath his helmet. When he pulls it off and rests it on the seat next to his gloves, you can see he’s scowling. “Why are you playing dumb? He’s here for you.”
            “No, he isn’t. He’s with someone else now, and he thinks I am too.” You point out. A low chuckle rumbles past Bucky’s lips as he runs a hand through his hair and starts toward the concrete staircase on the other end of the floor.
            “That’s exactly why he’s doing this, because he thinks you’re with someone else and he can’t stand it.” Bucky sounds so sure of himself, as if he’s experienced something like this before. In fact, he sounds so sure that it makes you wonder if he really has experienced this before.
            “You think he’s jealous? You saw the girl he was with, didn’t you?” You question, falling into step next to Bucky. His leather jacket still sits heavy on your shoulders but giving it back to him hasn’t even crossed your mind yet. Bucky’s hoping you’ll forget about it and keep it on when you walk in and sit down across from that piece of shit ex you’re here for.
            “She doesn’t have shit on you and he knows it.” His words leave your lips parted and your eyes widening in surprise as he reaches the staircase and starts heading down in front of you. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. For the most part, you’ve only ever heard him talk about you with an air of annoyance or indifference, but you could swear that what he just said was almost complimentary. If you could see the grimace on Bucky’s face, you’d know you were right. When he saw the blonde in the grocery store, he wanted to laugh at the way the guy had downgraded after losing you. She was pretty, sure, but you glow like the fucking sun even on your worst day.
            “So, what should I be doing here tonight then?” You ask, knowing Bucky probably has a plan in mind if he came all this way just to witness what’s about to go down.
            “Showing him that you don’t need him, that you’re better off without him.” You reach the bottom of the stairs and step out onto the sidewalk across from the bar. Bucky turns to face you as you scan the area for a crosswalk.
            “And how do I do that?”
            “For starters…” Bucky says, stepping closer to you and grabbing the front of his leather jacket that you’re still sporting, “keep this on.”
---
            Bucky’s been standing at the bar for the last fifteen minutes, nursing both a beer and an aching jaw. The ache is from how hard he’s been clenching his teeth together since your ex strolled in and took the seat across from you at a little two-seater table across the room. Of course, the guy showed up without his new girl. And, of course, he’s been trying like hell to get you to smile and laugh at whatever half-assed jokes he’s been cracking since he sat down. Bucky knew the guy wasn’t after closure.
            He watches with a less-than-pleased look on his face as the guy leans his elbows on the table and rests his hands a little too close to yours, but you don’t pull away. You’re sitting facing Bucky’s direction, yet you haven’t once let your eyes flit up to meet his. It’s infuriating. Bucky strains his ears to pick out your conversation through the din of the usual bar chatter around him. He listens intently as the guy tells you that it was nice to run into you at the grocery store, that he didn’t know if he’d ever see you again, that he missed the way you laughed. What a fucking ass. If Bucky remembers correctly, from overhearing gossip among the team, the guy had you nearly head over heels for him, and then one day he pulled the rug out from under you in and instant. He never even gave you much of a reason why. He simply called you up, ended the relationship over the phone, and a week later you heard through the grapevine that he’d met someone else. Why you felt compelled to meet the guy here tonight, Bucky will never understand. He doesn’t think the prick deserves even a minute of your time.
            “So, you’re really seeing someone else now?” The man’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard to Bucky’s sensitive ears, but he continues to focus on your conversation anyway. Bucky has to know how you’ll respond. He watches out of the corner of his eye as you push a stray lock of hair back over your shoulder, over the shoulder of his leather jacket, and then you blush. Why are you blushing? Bucky’s heart starts to race in the slightest because he can’t figure out if you’re blushing at the idea of you and him being together or at your ex prying into your personal life.
            “Yeah, he uh…at the grocery store, he…” You stutter through your answer. Like Bucky previously said, you’re a bad liar. The pink showing through the skin of your cheeks darkens another shade as you look away from your ex. Your eyes finally land on Bucky, who’s now standing at the bar facing you head-on. He holds your gaze assuredly and gives you a small nod, letting you know that you’re saying the right things. Somehow, just making eye contact with him and getting that small nod of approval calms your nerves.
            “Right, I remember. I guess I kind of thought that was a joke.”
            “A joke?” You ask, a bit offended at your ex’s confession. He rubs his hand across the back of his neck and lets out an awkward laugh before leaning back in his chair comfortably and taking a sip of his drink.
            “Yeah, I mean the guy said you only ever fuck raw. You never once asked me to fuck you raw. It just didn’t sound believable.” Huh. You’re silent for a moment as you sip on your own drink and let your gaze float back to Bucky once more, unaware that he’s just heard every word that the man said. The two of you stare at each other with some kind of…tension in the air between your table and the bar. Honestly, if you and Bucky were actually together in some alternate universe where you didn’t find each other incredibly annoying from the start, you think you would love to let him fuck you without protection. Something about it just sounds so filthy and enticing. But when you imagine it with the man that’s currently sitting in front of you, the man who promised you a lifetime and then kicked you to the curb like a broken piece of furniture, you cringe. No, you never asked him to take off the condom, and you probably never would have. Truthfully, that should’ve been a sign.
            Bucky’s eyes analyze the two of you as you put on a tight-lipped smile and then relax in your seat, fiddling with the zipper of the leather jacket draped around your frame.
            “It didn’t sound believable?” You ask softly, looking up through your lashes in a way that makes Bucky’s cock twitch, and he’s not even the one you’re looking at. When you do flit your eyes over to him, he can sense the change in your demeanor instantly. You’re not coming off so lighthearted and timid now, you’re giving off an air that says you-don’t-know-who-the-fuck-I-am anymore. “When I look at you, I can’t even fathom the two of us having unprotected sex. It never once crossed my mind to ask you for that. But when I look at him?” You let your gaze travel over to Bucky once more, and this time your ex catches on. He turns in his chair, scanning the bar behind him until he sees the super soldier leaning against the bar with a smug smile on full display. “When I look at him, I can’t stop imagining it.”
---
            Bucky’s leather jacket weighing on your shoulders, his body warmth seeping through his t-shirt and offering you reprieve from the wind that’s hitting you both head-on, his right hand reaching back to grip the side of your thigh as he weaves his bike skillfully in and out of traffic on the way back to the compound. All of those things are mixing and swirling together to create a near suffocating tension. You’re focusing on keeping your helmet from bumping into the back of his and even more than that, on keeping your mind out of the damn gutter. What you’d said back at the bar, the final thing you’d said before your ex realized he had no chance at getting back together with you, it was true. When you look at Bucky, you can’t stop imagining him fucking you without anything between your body and his. You don’t know when that started or when it might end, but it’s true. So, you left with him, climbing onto the back of his bike much more willingly than you had earlier in the evening. Not because you wanted to be close to him, but because you wanted to get home as fast as possible so you could get the hell away from him. Where on earth did this new found attraction come from? Why was your mind betraying your body with every single glance in his direction? Fuck physiology.
            Bucky can almost hear you overthinking behind him as he turns off of the interstate and onto a quiet, private road leading up to the compound. Hell, he’s overthinking too. He heard what you said at the bar, and he saw the look in your eyes when you said it. Had you been thinking about him the same way he’d been thinking about you since that night at the grocery store. No, there’s no way. If you really had been, then you wouldn’t have wanted to meet up with your ex tonight. Bucky lets out a breath and slows the bike as he nears the entrance to the parking garage. Neither of you said a word when your ex stormed out of the bar, nor did either of you when you made the walk across the street to the public parking garage and started the ride back home. It’s been silent, unbearably silent for too long.
            When Bucky finally parks the bike among the various vehicles owned by your friends and colleagues that reside upstairs, it seems as though you can’t get away from him fast enough. You swing your leg over and dismount the bike quickly before slipping your helmet off and taking a few steps over to the wall to set it on the shelf it originally came from. You’re halfway to the elevator when Bucky speaks, stopping you in your tracks.
            “The jacket, sweetheart.” He says coolly. When you turn around, you see him still sitting on the bike, looking down at the helmet he holds in his hands. It almost bothers you that he isn’t looking back at you. He can call you sweetheart but he can’t lift his eyes to your face? You let out a deep sigh before walking back over to him and standing a foot away from him and the bike. You strip off the leather jacket a bit reluctantly before holding it out to him. You have to admit you feel a bit like you’re missing something without it on now. Bucky takes it without glancing in your direction, and as soon as you turn on your heel to walk away, you can hear him dismounting the bike and setting his own helmet on the shelf. You’ve just hit the button to call the elevator down to the garage when he decides to speak once again. “You’re a bad liar.”
            “What?”
            “You’re a bad liar. I don’t know much about you, but I know that.” Bucky says. You stand in front of the elevator but you can’t tear your gaze away from him when he’s speaking so ominously. You watch him carefully as he turns away from the shelf and faces you, but still doesn’t lift his gaze to meet yours. Instead, he smooths out his leather jacket before laying it over one arm and tucking the keys to his bike into the back pocket of his jeans.
            “What does that have to do with anything?” You question, crossing your arms over your chest. Your eyes dart back to the screen above the elevator. It’s still so many floors away from reaching you.
            “I knew you were lying when you told me he hadn’t texted you. I don’t even think your piece-of-shit ex believed you at first when he asked if you were really seeing someone new, you couldn’t even get a full sentence out. You’re a bad liar.” The words pour out of his mouth with ease, as if he pre-planned the entire speech. When you don’t say anything, he finally lifts his eyes to meet your narrowed stare. A shiver runs down your spine, but you blame it on the fact that you’re no longer wearing his jacket. “When I look at him, I can’t stop imagining it.” When Bucky repeats your words so perfectly, you can feel all of the color draining from your face. “When you said that, you didn’t stutter, you didn’t hesitate. You weren’t lying.”
            “You think I was being honest?” The question leaves your lips with a hint of anger edging each word. Bucky merely shrugs in response, tilting his head to the side as he waits for you to answer your own question, since it’s obvious that he thinks you were being honest. “You think I look at you and imagine you fucking me raw?”
            “Do you?” Bucky taunts, licking his bottom lip before drawing it between his lips and pressing his top teeth into it. Your gaze darts down to his lips against your better judgement, and when your eyes settle back on his, all you see is a reflection of what you’re sure your own eyes are showing. Lust. He thinks about it. He thinks about fucking you raw. In this moment, you’re sure. In fact, he’s thinking about it right now.
            Your feet start moving before you even have a moment to consider the action, they’re carrying you straight toward him, ignoring the elevator that’s just arrived to take you away from him. When you stop a few inches in front of him, he’s staring down at you with a raised brow and building anticipation. He wants your answer.
            “Yes.” You breathe the word out. In an instant, Bucky’s dropping his jacket to the floor and tangling his flesh hand in the hair at the nape of your neck as his pulls you into him, crashing his lips against yours. It’s a kiss that takes your breath away and fills your lungs with a fiery burn, yet you don’t want to break for air. You kiss him back, moving your lips to suck along his bottom one as you tilt your head to the right to give each of you better access. Bucky languidly drags the tip of his tongue along your top lip before snaking it lower and letting it delve into your mouth. God, he might’ve imagined fucking you but truthfully, he forgot to imagine kissing you. He never would’ve thought it could be this good. His vibranium arm wraps around your lower back, pulling you closer into him until his body warmth begins sending tingles across the surface of your skin. Once he has you flush against him, that same cool metal hand begins unwrapping from your back and traveling down until it’s in place to grip a handful of your ass, hard. When you gasp into the kiss, Bucky pulls back and bites down on your bottom lip. Fuck. If you don’t stop him now, he won’t be able to stop himself from having you right here in the garage. As if you’re reading his mind, you place both hands on his chest and pull your head back until there’s an inch of space between your mouths. While your eyes are focused on his pink nose and swollen lips, your mind is focused on what you feel pressing against your thigh. He’s fully erect, his cock straining against the front of his jeans just from kissing you. You could overthink this, let your mind weigh all of the pros and cons of what’s happening right now, and then convince yourself to be responsible and go upstairs to your own room, pretending this never happened. But for some reason, your right hand is already coasting down his chest, over his abs, and sliding between your lower bodies. You find yourself palming the outline of his cock, offering him such a perfect amount of pressure and friction that he can’t help but lean his hips forward and press his cock further into your touch.
            “If you don’t stop now…” Bucky rasps, but his eyes flutter closed and he bites down on his lower lip before he’s even finished the sentence, your sensual touch getting the better of him.
            “If I don’t stop now?” You encourage him to say what he wants to say, but you can’t fight the teasing smile that’s beginning to play on your lips.
            “If you don’t stop now, you won’t be able to return all of those pregnancy tests on your next grocery run.” You laugh lightly as you lean in and press a soft kiss against Bucky’s jawline, continuing to rub his erection through the taut fabric of his jeans.             “Are you thinking about fucking me raw, James?” You tease. Bucky groans before opening his eyes and pulling you away from his jaw by your hair. He doesn’t stop you from slowly sliding your hand back and forth along the outline of his cock, but he makes sure you’re looking right in his eyes before he speaks again.
            “Right here in this damn parking garage.”
            Without a single thought in either of your minds, Bucky lets you push your palms flat against his chest and walk him back until he stumbles onto the seat of his motorcycle. In one swift movement, you slip your hand past the waistband of his jeans and boxers and the warm skin of your hand comes into contact with his hard length, without anything between the two of you. Bucky lets out a heady groan and his hands begin moving all on their own, working to unbutton and unzip his jeans to give your hand as much space as possible. As soon as he has his pants undone, you shift your hand and wrap it firmly around his cock, giving it a slow stroke inside of his boxers. When you near the head of it, a bead of precum drips onto the side of your thumb and you smile to yourself as you spread it back over the smooth tip of his cock. What is it about having a man this way that makes a woman feel so damn powerful? Bucky looks at you with a mix of annoyance and awe at the way you’re working his cock so effortlessly yet turning him into putty in your hands. He’ll let you have your fun for now, and then he’ll show you that he can have the same effect on you.
            The moment your eyes lock onto his, he slides his right hand along the side of your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss, the taste of your lips and the feel of your hand stroking back and forth along his hard-on is nearly enough to send him over the edge, and he inhales sharply, tugging his lips away from your own.
            “I’m not going to have much use for those pregnancy tests if we keep going like this, am I?” You ask jokingly, as you remove your hand from Bucky’s pants and raise it up to your face. Bucky runs a hand through his hair as he blows out a breath and watches you intently. Your thumb, still a bit shiny and wet from his precum, ventures dangerously close to your mouth. You keep your eyes trained on Bucky’s as you use that same thumb to tug down your bottom lip before sliding it into your mouth and sucking.
            “Oh, fuck.” Bucky groans, his rationality fleeing as his own flesh hand delves into his pants and begins mimicking your actions from a moment ago. The way your eyes follow his movements, your pupils blown wide with lust as you watch him touch himself, it’s too damn much for him. He grabs you by the hair once again, in that desperate, needy way that you’re quickly growing to love, and pulls you against his chest, kissing you as fervently as the first time. However, this kiss doesn’t last. He pulls away from you in an instant and suddenly, his hand is on your shoulder, pushing you down to your knees. Before you reach the floor, he uses the toe of his boot to slide his discarded leather jacket across the floor to cushion your knees. So fucking thoughtful.
            Bucky stands up with you on your knees in front of him and his bike resting on its kickstand behind him. His eyes never part from your face as he pushes his already undone pants and boxers down his thighs just enough to free his cock from their confines. Your breath hitches in your throat as soon as you lay eyes on it, as soon as you lay eyes on the sheer size of it. Bucky doesn’t make a move to stop you as you reach up with both hands and take hold of his length, using one hand to begin stroking it from the base to the tip while your other hand grips his thigh. Your eyes widen at the way it looks even bigger in your hand, which is a mental image that Bucky will probably be recalling every day for the rest of his life. You’re more than ready to lean in and take him in your mouth, to experience every second of what it’s like to suck him off, but his gentle touch halts your movements. His flesh hand softly cups the side of your face as he lets his thumb caress the skin over your cheekbone.
            “You’re so much bigger than he was.” You whisper, your eyes traveling up Bucky’s torso until you’re getting lost in his gaze. It’s true. Your ex was…well below average in this department. But Bucky? God, Bucky is so far above average it’s actually making you wonder if you can even fit half of him in your mouth. Bucky chuckles lowly before tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, and then copying your earlier move. He slips the pad of his thumb between your lips and watches with hooded eyes as you eagerly accept it, sucking on it gently. Fuck. He’s so ruined. Only a moment later, he’s standing there with his head thrown back and a string of curses are falling from his mouth as you bob your head back and forth, letting his cock slide along your tongue and brush against the back of your throat repeatedly. He’s fully lost in the pleasure of your mouth. He’s so lost, in fact, that when you grip his thighs with both hands and lean into him as far as you possibly can, letting your nose brush against his lower stomach and your throat tighten around his shaft as you gag, he lets out a groan that reverberates through the parking garage and sends a fresh wave of heat straight to your core.
            “Fuck, do that again.” He rasps, finally looking down at you as you pull your head back until only the tip is resting on your tongue. A smile plays behind your eyes as you dare to look up at him. He can’t help himself. Both of his hands move to run through your hair, encouraging you to do exactly what he just said. You repeat your actions, moving your head forward and taking his entire length in until you gag a second time. But this time, Bucky holds your head still there for two seconds. His eyes squeeze shut as your throat grips his cock tighter and tighter, the sensation bringing him so close to the edge that he abruptly pulls back and leaves only half of his length for you to taste. “Just like that, shit.” Another minute of your mouth doing exactly what Bucky wants and he’s fighting with every cell in his body to delay the inevitable. He wanted to fuck you raw, truly, it was his intention from the moment you admitted you thought about it. But having you like this? Having you on your knees for him, telling him that his dick is bigger than the last piece of shit you were with? God, he’s so close to cumming in your mouth that it almost hurts.
            “I’m so fucking close.” He groans the words out as if he’s in pain, as if he’s holding back because he doesn’t want to cum in your mouth. That just won’t do. So, you release him from your mouth with a pop and start working him with your hand as you tilt your chin up to meet his gaze.
            “You don’t want to cum in my mouth?” You ask innocently, looking up at him through your lashes. It’s the same way you looked in the bar earlier and he feels his last bit of resolve crumbling. He could easily cum in your mouth, but that’s just not what he needs right now. In that desperate, needy way that you love, Bucky grasps your hair and pulls you to your feet. A whimper leaves your lips as his cock slips out of your hand.
            “No.” Bucky says calmly, turning you around and pushing your back forward until your hands land on the seat of his bike. “I’m going to give you a reason to use one of those damn pregnancy tests.”
            He’s swift in pulling down your jeans and panties with both hands, and then lining his cock up with your entrance and making you think he’s going to fuck you. But no, Bucky lets the tip of his cock gather the wetness that you’ve been sitting in since you left the bar, and then he begins chasing his release with his own hand. You let out a needy whine, pushing your hips back against him and hoping his cock will just happen to notch inside of you and slide all the way in, but Bucky isn’t going to let it happen until he’s ready.
            He has a plan. He’s going to fill you with his cum first, then use his fingers, his tongue, and his cock to fuck it back into you after. The next time your run into your ex, Bucky wants you to be so fucking pregnant that the guy loses his goddamn mind.
There will be no tag list for the smut menu requests.
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abbyshands · 3 months
Note
Good nigth darling,you're okay?can we have more nerdy!abby pleaase i beg you 🙏🙏🙏(srry for my inglish)
teach me
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└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
a/n; hello, my love! i’m good, and i hope you are too! of course EEK i was going to write more for her anyway, i love a nerdy girl. also this is cut off asf I’M SORRY i’m tired, maybe i’ll do a part 2 if y’all ask <3
synopsis; you’ve never been good at science, let alone college biology. when your professor all but forced you to get a tutor, who should you end up with but your nerdy girlfriend, who has a very unique way of getting you to study?
pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader
warnings; abby uses baby/princess, use of a strap-on, cockwarming + edging (kinda), abby refers to the strap as her dick and it’s referred to as her dick/cock, choking, spanking, degradation (ish. abby’s tone is just mean), anddd i prob missed smt so lmk <3
wc; 2.2k
p.s.; ALSO this is was ib an ellie fic i saw bro idk where tf it is 😭 searching for it tho. i js remember it was nerdy ellie. it was so good BUT LIKE WHERE IS ITTT idk i’ll link it here if i find it
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
you’ve always sucked at science. biology, chemistry, whatever the hell it was, it had never been your cup of tea.
your professor had not so kindly recommended you get a tutor. otherwise, your grades would decline (more than they already were, that is). you didn't want a tutor, let alone for it to be someone you didn't know. you were already feeling awkward enough having to have someone tutor you at all—you couldn't imagine if it was by an unfamiliar.
that's where abby came in.
abby anderson was your girlfriend, and she was a nerd. like, cliche movie nerd. if you couldn't find her in her dorm, with you, or in class, she was at the library, doing homework until she couldn't anymore. she was a coffee addict with how late she was up each evening, study sessions, unnecessarily reviewing, and, again, homework.
let's just say, abby anderson would do crazy things for an a.
you didn't necessarily want to have abby as your tutor. for some reason, it was embarrassing to you. you had already felt that way when you told her you needed one at all. it would be 10x worse if she would be the one doing it.
not only that, the focus.
how the fuck were you going to focus when you have abby fucking anderson in front of you? when your mind races with memories of her fucking you from behind, or kissing down your neck, or making you the wettest you've ever been, just by being alive?
you weren't.
but abby was persistent. you had originally said no when she first asked to tutor you, but when the guy who was supposed to tutor you didn't even show for your first session, it was no longer a request.
it was a demand.
you were sitting beside abby in her dorm, working on an assignment for your biology class that was due the following day. you had taken up to ten breaks by now, and it had only been an hour and a half or so.
abby pushed her glasses up on her face as she looked over at you, eyebrow raised. you had been dozing off, elbow on the desk and chin on your palm as your eyes began to fall shut.
"hey," abby snapped her large hand in front of your face, making your eyes open again just as quickly as it had happened. "are you listening to me?"
no.
"yeah. yeah, sorry, i just, um—dna and rna. that's what we're learning now, right?" you ask confusedly, doing your best to make it seem like you know what you’re talking about.
but the look on abby's face tells you all you need to know.
"mhm, like, ten minutes ago," abby hums a bit annoyedly, and you can't help but let out a sigh. it's bad enough you have to be here at all, but letting abby down, or worse, pissing her off, was the last thing you wanted to do. “you're never going to learn if you don't put any effort in," she sighs.
“c’mon, abs,” you whined as you set your pencil aside, putting your head down on the desk, eyes on abby. the blonde set her own pen down with a small shake of the head, expression unreadable. “i can’t do this anymore,” you said dramatically. abby rolled her eyes.
“what’s wrong now?” abby asked, but it’s not like she really wanted to know the answer. you knew how seriously abby took her own schoolwork, which may be the reason she was annoyed that you didn’t. but you just weren’t like that.
“none of this makes sense. i can’t remember a thing we go over. god, i hate biology,” you complained once more, looking away from abby.
abby sighed as she put a hand on your shoulder. as much as she wanted to be annoyed, she loved you, and she knew full well that even if you were smart, biology was your worst class.
“what can i do to help, baby? flashcards, d’you want me to quiz you? what do you need?” abby asked as she moved her hand to your back, rubbing it. you shrugged.
“i dunno. i don’t think any of that stuff is going to help me, abby. my memory’s—not that good,” you lamely huffed, but it was true. your memory was best when it came down to the things you cared for. college biology was not one of them.
“hm,” abby hummed. it took a beat, a small pause. but then, abby’s perked eyebrows told you that she had just gotten an idea, and so did the way her plump lips curled into a grin.
“i think i know what’ll do the trick.”
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
that’s how you ended up on abby’s lap, her cock buried deep inside of you as she gripped you by the bottom. abby’s way of bettering your sour memory came in the form of one of the most agonizing experiences you had ever had.
“how does dna differ from rna?” abby asks you casually, as if she isn’t filling you to the brim. you feel your face getting hot, bottom lip bitten down on as you look at her nervously.
“u- uhm. d- dna has a d- double helix model, fuck,” you whine. you must be at least a little correct, because abby bucks her hips up into you, causing the silicone dildo to move inside of you. “rna’s single, a- and involved in a different process than dna.”
“attagirl,” abby praised. it’s then that she grabbed you by the ass, hard, and forced you to ride up to the top of her dick, just before she’s slamming you back down. for only a few seconds, you gain some pleasure by moving your body like that, or abby doing it for you, that is.
but then, she’s robbing it away from you, just like that.
“a- abby, please, c’mon,” you whimper. this had been going on for a third of an hour or so. abby would ask you a question from the deck of index cards she had made for you, and you would answer. simple, right?
wrong.
because here's the thing: she wouldn’t move unless you answered her, and it had to be correct. and if not?
smack.
abby's large hand comes down on your ass as if to shut you up. really, it doesn't. you let out a moan as she then grabs your ass again, not giving a care to how sore you may be.
because she's already slapped you way too many times to count.
“don't act like this isn't for your own good," she says firmly, reprimanding you. "you got that one wrong last time. and we’re not going to stop until you’ve got that whole fucking deck memorized, you got that?” she asks, signaling to the forgotten pile of index cards on the desk behind you. you whine, body too achy for abby to deny her.
“f- fine," you whine, because who the hell would you be to say no?
“good girl," abby praises as she rubs her hands over your bottom, caressing you in a loving manner, a wide difference to the way she was addressing you mere seconds before. "now, can you tell me what a neuron is?”
doing your best to not focus on the feeling inside you, you nod, and easily answer. “a- a neuron—" you huff. "is a specialized cell.”
abby moves her hands to your hips and pushed you up, so that you're around halfway down on her cock. you let out a small shudder, but it must mean you're correct. “and what’s it do?” abby then asks.
to some degree.
but you know this one. after all, it was one of the last cards you looked at in the deck. so, you respond, “transmit.”
abby moves you up more, and this time, she brings one of her hands up to cup your tit. she plays with your nipple if only for a second, causing you to let out a low moan. but just when you think she's going to keep going, of course, she doesn't.
“transmit what?” she asks firmly as her fingers caress your rib cage, and it's all you can do not to roll your eyes.
“nerve impulses," you say a bit too fast, eager to have her hands back on you. your neediness helped you on that one. "i- it’s the basic unit of the nervous system," you add, for good measure.
"that's right, princess," abby smirked, course she did. she had always had way too much fun when she was driving you crazy during sex. this was no different.
but you're pleased to find yourself rewarded, because abby allows you to ride her again. you move up and down a little quickly, scared that your girlfriend will rob you of the feeling before it's even begun. abby begins to rub your clit as she gazes at you fucking yourself on her dick, way too needy for her touch.
"eager girl," abby cooed, rubbing her index on your clit in quick circles. "so needy for my cock, aren't you?"
"yes," you huff out fast, eyes closing shut at the feeling under you.
"too bad."
abby shoves you all the way back down her dick, so that you're all the way back down at the base. it pleasures you for only a second, before the feeling vanishes, just like that.
"abby, f- fuck," you groan annoyedly, body begging for a release you know abby won't give you unless you do what she tells you to do.
and she doesn't like your words.
abby grabs you by the neck, forcing you to look at her as you roll your eyes in the brattiest manner she's ever seen from you. "look at me. look at me when i'm talking to you," and she uses that tone you know she only uses when she's not playing games, barking your full name out at the end like the word pains her tongue.
once she's got your eyes on her, she speaks once more. "if you really want this dick, and i know you do, you're gonna take what i give you like the good girl you are. that clear?"
you keep your eyes on her, scared of what will happen if you don't, face hot as you answer. "y- yes, ma'am."
"primary use of the kidneys?" abby asks, not even giving you praise for obeying her. but you're not at all surprised by that: if there was one thing about abby, she did not like your bratty side.
this time, unlike what abby's asked you before, you can't remember the answer to this. like, at all. you fumble with it for a second, digging through your head for what it could be. but you don't get a response.
"i- i don't know," you dumbly stutter, genuinely unsure of what to say. abby isn't having it, obviously, because one mlre spank is coming down onto your ass before you know it.
"f- fuck!" you whine brokenly, head rocking back, and bottom sore from each hit abby's given you. she doesn't seem to care.
"yes, you do," she all but growls at you, and you think of your real class all too quickly, like she's your professor. "we went over this. so fucking tell me," she says, and it only makes your abdomen churn more.
and fill with butterflies.
“s- something to do with b- blood pressure, right? c- controlling it? please say yes," you were begging more to yourself than to abby, not even sure where that answer came from.
“mhm, and what else?" she coos, doing what she's done a million times before: moving you halfway up her cock.
"i- i don't know, abs. can't remember," you mutter, and really, how could you by now?
it looks like abby is feeling a little generous this time, because she helps you along. "what’s it do to your body, princess? begins with an 'r',” she asked.
even when your brain begins to fog up with all of the questions in your head, and what's happening besides that, it seems to click for you when abby says the letter 'r.' “r- regulates it? th- the fluid balance?”
“mhm," abby says with a small nod of approval, even kissing your chest this time as a reward.
"there’s my smart girl.”
and it goes on like that forever, question, answer, question, answer. sometimes, you got abby's cock easily. most times, you weren't so lucky.
your eyes are drooping, body aching and face hot as you stutter out the answer to the final card in the deck. once you do, you let out a deep, long exhale, which makes abby chuckle.
"see, pretty girl? wasn't that bad, was it?" abby coos, putting her hand up to cup your cheek. obviously, you want to say no. but after all of this, it was too risky to be bratty to abby. so you shake your head.
and you hadn’t even finished yet.
"n- no, it was—fine," you lie, and abby knows you are. but she doesn't ask about it, knowing full well how much she's done to you already.
"look on the good side.”
“you'll remember better now, won't you?"
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
reblogs are very much welcomed <3
———
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xbellaxcarolinax · 10 months
Note
college!au with miguel omg, hear me out. him slipping into your dorm late at night to help you study—he promised promised promised. but unfortunately, the books and papers are scattered on the floor, the only thing that could be heard in the room are your soft whimpers, his low grunts, and your bed frantically squeaking <3
Thank you for the request! I love this ask sm <3 Not my best work but I hope you like it!
NSFW below the cut
...
"Shhh," Miguel cooed, buried balls deep in your cunt, "she's gonna hear us." 
Too late. Your roommate was sure to give you an earful in the morning.
You were well past the stage of keeping quiet, your whines and mewls erupting from you as soon as Miguel slithered into your dorm around midnight with the guise of "studying." 
Your biochem textbook and endless notes were scattered across your floor,—pens and highlighters decorating your carpet when Miguel swiped them off your cheap spring bed, promising to help you study as soon as he got just a little taste of you.
Well, that was an hour and a half ago and he got much more than just a taste. You both had a midterm in two days, and all he'd done was make you come on his cock twice since he’d arrived. You'd doubted that'd be on the exam.
"M-Miguel," you moaned, tossing your head back against your pillow, your pussy throbbing as he gave a particularly hard thrust, "I-I can't anymore."
"Course you can," he breathed, pressing a kiss to your lips, swallowing the noises bubbling out of you, "just one more," he promised, "just one more and we can study for however long you want, hm? How does that sound?" 
Miguel and his stupid promises.
He was slamming into you now, holding your trembling thighs, finding the sweet spot that you so desperately craved. Your bed shook, the wooden headboard banging against the wall with every snap of his hips.
Your body seized, cunt clamping down on his cock and Miguel grunted, slowing down his movements.
"Fuck," he groaned, "you're about to cum, aren't you?" 
You didn't answer, caught in a euphoric state when his cock slammed into you just right. You sobbed, clawing at whatever you could get your hands on—your old bed sheets, a loose piece of paper under you, Miguel's toned arms. Your nails sunk into his flesh, raking down, sending him down his own euphoric path. 
He groaned loudly when he came, burying his face in your neck as he rode his high, emptying his load inside you. He pulled out a few seconds later, his lidded eyes watching his come trickle out of you and onto your sheets.
You sighed at the sensation, letting your fingers trace over your swollen pussy, your digits swirling through his spend.
Miguel always made you feel good, there was no doubt about that, but you needed to seriously start studying.
He pushed you down gently against the mattress when you tried to move, gripping his cock and slapping it over your sensitive lips.
“Miguel!” You squealed, too weak to thrash against his hold, “We need to study!” He grinned, lowering himself over you to pepper your face with kisses before sliding his length into your wet channel with ease.
“We will,” he tried to persuade you, groaning at your tight heat, “just gimme one more, and we can study, I promise.”
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explicit-tae · 5 months
Note
for ungodly hour couple can we have jk flirt with another girl or smth to try and get a reaction out of oc so he can be like "told you youre down bad look how jealous you got" but it backfires bc she flirts w someone else right back but it ends with them fucking anyway and making up 😭🫶
I actually like the idea of that so I'll just make a quick one-shot of it 🤣
ungodly hour
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Word Count: 4.297
Warning: jealous reader, jealous jungkook, smut, yelling, kissing, dirty talking, simp jungkook, tsundere reader ofc, 69 position, oral (f/m receiving), spitting, competative jk sigh, face riding, competence kink, cum-swallowing,
“Well, well,” Jimin says as he looks up to spot you. He’s seated inside the college library at a once empty desk before you occupied it. “If it isn’t Y/N.”
You want to roll your eyes at the tone in Jimin’s voice. “In the flesh.” you say.
“What do I owe the unwelcomed visit?” Jimin drops the pen he was using to continue speaking with you.
“Ugh, Jimin, cut the shit.” you place your bag upon the table. “Jungkook told me you like me and us together.”
Jimin snickers. “I enjoy seeing my friend happy, I suppose.” he shrugs. 
“I guess that means we’re the same.” you retort.
“I'd like to say you’re more of a bitch with an attitude.” Jimin scoffs.
Your eyes widen, but you don’t want to say what you really want to - you and he would be bantering in the library and kicked out. 
You take a deep breath. “I’m going to regret this.” you murmur more to yourself than to Jimin, but the man hears and now he’s intrigued. “I need your help.”
Jimin is in fact intrigued. His attention is fully on you now. “My help?”
You nod.
“What can I give you that you can’t go to Jungkook for?” Jimin snickers.
You don’t answer and noticing, Jimin begins to smirk. 
“What do I get out of it?” 
You sigh loudly. “What do you want?” you grumble, eyes glaring at the older man.
“First, tell me what you want.” Jimin closes his textbook, finding you here before him more interesting.
You swallow. Your body was feeling hot with nerves.
You hoped Jimin wouldn’t laugh in your face and further humiliate you - or even make it worse by telling Jungkook. 
“I want to make Jungkook jealous.” you murmur so low that Jimin has to think hard to see if he’s heard you correctly. 
Jimin then begins to chuckle to himself, leaning back into the library chair. “Ah, so he was right when he told me you were jealous.”
You widen your eyes. “He told you that?!” you hiss lowly, feeling your hands clenched into fists. 
It was a week prior when it began. You and Jungkook had classes that same day, him being done only an hour before yours ended. He had texted you that he’d be in the dining hall - typical for Jungkook and his near never ending hunger. You’d usually always catch him there with someone - his friends, mostly.
That day, however, it was neither. It was a person you’ve never seen before - a girl. 
You recall the way your pace slowed as you caught where he stood, her across from him. He was nodding to something she was saying. It happens suddenly, however, the way Jungkook responds back (inaudible to you) and the girl laughs loudly. You are only a few feet away when you see the way she touches Jungkook’s chest, coming even closer.
Jungkook looks directly behind the girl and his lips form a smile. “Y/N!” he had called your name, nodding to the girl before making his way towards you. Your eyes locked to the girl he was speaking to - the look in her eyes was one you were all too familiar with. “You ready to go?” he asks you and you nodded your head, remaining silent.
“Yes, he did.” Jimin smirks at your reaction. “Said you were snappy the entire time.”
“I was not.” you declare, but you were. After all, Jungkook pursued you for months before you gave him a chance before you ultimately agreed to being his girlfriend. He had to know that was a privilege.
“Sure.” Jimin shrugs at your obvious lie. “Then why are you trying to make him jealous?”
You were beginning to regret coming to Jimin - you didn’t need him going to Jungkook with this. It would just fuel his teasing and that’s not something you wanted. 
You didn’t consider yourself to be the jealous type and you didn’t care who Jungkook was friends with - male or female. However, it was the way Jungkook reacted. His mind clicked when you were a bit distant and snappy, and that’s where it began. “You’re jealous.” he says, stopping in his tracks suddenly. You and he were halfway to his car when he made the revelation, eyes wide and soon, a smirk forming onto his lips. “That’s good. That means we’re one step closer to admitting you like me.”
And it didn’t get better. At every given chance, Jungkook would bring up Sia - the girl he was speaking to. “Sia said this ice-cream shop downtown is good. We should go.”, “Sia says this movie was good, let’s watch it together.” and it went on and on until you eventually snapped at him.
 Jungkook does it for a reaction - a scoff, a roll in your eyes or even a glare. When you snapped at him, declaring “If you’re going to keep talking about what she likes then you mind as well fuck her.”, it’s disgusting to admit that your tone turned him on - mixed with the angered look in your eyes. 
It gets the man going knowing that even you could be jealous. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do, but he enjoys teasing you. “You’re so down bad for me, baby. I can see it in your eyes.” he’d say. “You know you’re the only girl for me, Y/N. You don’t have to be jealous.”
“Give him a taste of his own medicine.” you shrug your shoulders. You didn’t want to go into any more detail with Jimin, after all, Jungkook was his friend. He probably already knows enough.
And know enough Jimin does. It was a week ago today when he got a call from Jungkook, asking for advice. “Maybe she’s jealous.” Jimin told him over the phone. “You can be oblivious to when girls are flirting with you.”
“Who? Sia?” Jungkook had scoffed. He hasn’t thought about other girls in months, not since he and you became intimate. “I never knew Y/N could get like that…” Jungkook trailed off, a tone that was all too familiar to Jimin. The younger man was plotting.
“You’re going to make her jealous, aren’t you?” Jimin scoffed. “I don’t think that’s wise.”
“You’re team Y/N now?” Jungkook asked. “I’m not going to flirt with Sia or even be around her. I just want Y/N to admit that she likes me.” he revealed truthfully. “Without me having to fuck it out of her.”
“Does her being with you not mean she likes you?” Jimin furrows his brows. Jungkook could be on the dumb side sometimes and the fact that he had to defend you made him want to gag. But for months it was apparent that you liked Jungkook more than you’d let on - Jimin had to hear it when Jungkook called him nearly in tears when you called yourself “his girl”.
“Stop trying to sound smart, hyung. I just want to hear her say it.” And that’s where it began - each time Jungkook got a reaction out of you, he’d tell Jimin. It was a matter of time before you’d snap - and you did; now sitting before him.
“I see. I help you and you help me.” Jimin leans forward. “Starting with what I want.”
You wait for Jimin to speak, and when he does, you’re left dumbfounded. 
“What’s the password to all of the streaming services?”
You blink a few times, trying to register what Jimin said. “That’s…out of everything you can ask for-”
“I need to get back to The Real Housewives.” Jimin waves you off. “Now, passwords before I help you.”
“YNloves97.” you tilt your head.
Jimin rolls his eyes. “I hate simps.” he murmurs, but he writes it down on a sheet of paper before turning his attention back to you. “Now, how far are you trying to go?”
You swallow. “Not that far.” you admit. You couldn’t see yourself flirting with someone else - besides, Jungkook would know you were trying to make him jealous and that would make his head grow even bigger.
“I know my friend, Y/N. If you try too hard, he’s not going to fall for it. You have to be subtle.” Jimin exclaims. “He knows how unapproachable you are.”
“Unapproachable?” you’re taken aback once more at Jimin’s choice of words. “What does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said. You have a resting bitch face and you’ve turned down so many guys that no one wants to approach you anymore. Jungkook is seen as a conqueror for being able to have you.” Jimin states matter-of-factly.
You sigh in defeat because damn was Jimin correct. You recall back when Jungkook and you went on the “picnic-movie-dinner” and he exclaimed how he knows there's guys that want you, but he was the one that had you.
Fuck Jeon Jungkook.
Jimin swallows, a disdainful look in his eyes. “Do you want to hangout?”
“What?”
“Do you…want to hangout?” Jimin repeats, appearing even more disgusted. “It’s part of the plan, trust me.”
“I-I guess.” you murmur, unsure of how this was going to go. But Jimin and Jungkook were best friends and if you were going to trust anyone about your plan, it’d have to be him.
The following week goes by and Jungkook notices a shift.
The most uncommon shift was you and Jimin together. When you had told Jungkook that you couldn’t study with him because you were doing so with Jimin, he had laughed. He assumed it was a joke, until it wasn’t.
Jungkook was fine with it, of course. He wanted you and Jimin to get along.
What Jungkook wasn’t fine with was the amount of times you’d speak of Jimin and how, in your words, “He’s actually fun to be around.”, “I convinced Jimin to listen to this podcast with me while we studied”, “It’s okay, I’ll just ask Jimin.” - and the fact that you were going to someone else for something instead of him was what truly got his blood boiling.
“I invited Jimin, hope that’s okay.” you said, dropping next to Jungkook. You were in the living room of your home, Chaeyoung showering up the stairs and soon joining you and him. It was only a study session - exams coming just around the corner. 
“Did you?” Jungkook snickers. “Why?”
“Why not?” you shrug with a short giggle. “Don’t we all need to study?”
Jungkook remains quiet, not wanting to think too much into it.
There was no way he was jealous. Jimin was his friend and there was no reason to be.
But when there was a knock on the door. You had risen to answer it, and that was the cherry on top - the way you hugged Jimin, greeting him with a wide smile.
You hadn’t even hugged Jungkook that way - or even appeared to be happy that he was there. When did you and Jimin grow so close? It wasn’t long ago that you were butting heads over streaming services. Now, the two of you were hugging, your arms wrapped firmly around him.
“Is the plan still on?” Jimin murmurs to you, feeling the burning hole Jungkook is burning through him. 
“Yes.” you murmur back. You avoid Jungkook’s eyes, especially when you feel Jimin light tap the low of your back.
Jungkook watches your next move, not taking his eyes off of you. You bring yourself back next to Jungkook on the couch, finally meeting his eyes. He doesn’t say anything  to you, only watching with tense eyes.
“I ordered pizza.” Chaeyoung says, almost on cue. Her hair is damp as she comes through. “Should be here in a few.”
You want to laugh at how giddy you feel right now. Jungkook’s reaction. You aren’t going to feel guilty - he started this first.
It was Jimin’s idea after all. “I would rather die than flirt with you.” Jimin snarls. The feeling was mutual. “But Jungkook is a territorial person. He’ll grow jealous of you hanging out with anyone that isn’t him.”
And that’s where it began - the constant “study” sessions that truly had you and Jimin bickering with one another. “I agreed to listen to your murder podcast but watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey is where you draw the line?” Jimin snapped one day.
However, Jimin was correct. He knew Jungkook like the back of his hand and his plan was working smoothly. 
A study session always started well and ended with loud chatter and laughs - only Jungkook sulked on the couch, while you, Chaeyoung and Jimin gathered around the low coffee table to eat.
“Here, try this.” Jimin shoves his pizza in your face - it has a variety of toppings on it and you want to gag at the sight of it. You want to shake your head because damn did it look disgusting, toppings nearly falling all over the place, but Jimin eyes widen and he slightly nods. 
You open your mouth and take a bite, allowing Jimin to feed you the pizza - and Jungkook’s had enough of watching you and him.
“Y/N doesn’t even like all those toppings.” Jungkook hisses, shoving the pizza away from you. It falls into Jimin’s lap sloppily, and the older man groans.
“Kook, what the hell?” Jimin cleans the pizza from his lap, glaring at his younger friend. “What’s your problem-”
“I think you should go.” Jungkook exclaims.
“No he doesn’t.” you are quick to defend Jimin, and inside you’re screaming, wanting to laugh in Jungkook’s obviously jealous face. “What’s going on with you?”
Jungkook’s taken aback. “Since when are you and Jimin friends?” he hisses, not intending for his voice to be as low. “Jimin’s my friend.”
Luckily you’ve told Chaeyoung the plan, or she would have thought you had two friends fighting for you. She takes a sip of her soda to hide her laughter. 
“Please don’t fight over me.” Jimin chuckles. “There’s enough of me to go around.”
“You should be happy that I’m being friends with your friends.” you cross your arms. “Or do you prefer we butt heads?”
Jungkook would prefer you and Jimin to do nothing at all, like before. He hides his remark because in the end, Jimin was his friend and he truly would never accuse anything of him - but he couldn’t help how he feels.
“Can I talk to you in private, Y/N?” Jungkook murmurs, his eyes intense.
Jimin watches as you and Jungkook walk up the stairs and down the hall, not speaking until he hears a door close.
“Turn the TV up.” Chaeyoung says suddenly, taking a bite of her pizza. “They’re going to fuck it out right about now.”
Jimin doesn’t have to be told twice.
“What the fuck are you doing with Jimin?” Jungkook hiss as soon as the door to your bedroom is closed. “And don’t give that mush-mouth shit either, Y/N.”
You shrug. “The same thing you’re doing with Sia.”
Jungkook stops in his tracks. You sit at the edge of your bed with crossed arms.
“Sia?” Jungkook looks at you as if he had no idea what you were speaking of. “Sia?” he repeats.
“Sia.” you mock with a scoff. “Yes, Jungkook.”
Jungkook inhales deeply before exhaling. He tilts his head for a moment, your words repeating in his mind. 
“I don’t hang out with Sia. I don’t even talk to her.” Jungkook proclaims, a snarky tone in his voice.
“Sia likes this, Sia does that, Sia goes here, we should go there.” you mock Jungkook’s voice the best you could. “But I watch a little Housewives with Jimin and it’s a problem?” It was a problem, because there was only so much New Jersey you could watch.
Jungkook’s eyes begin to squint, and then widen. It was like a lightbulb went off. 
“You were trying to make me jealous. And you had Jimin help you do it.” Jungkook exclaims.
“Did not,” you scoff.
“You did.”
“Not.”
“You always avoid my gaze when you’re lying, Y/N.” Jungkook sighs in relief. He had to hand it to you, you and Jimin were determined - and your plan worked entirely well. 
“Fuck you.” you hiss. “Isn’t that what you were doing first?” you quip, now rising to your feet. “Then you lie about it.”
Jungkook’s head snaps towards you. “Lie? About what?”
“Turn the T.V. down!” Chaeyoung murmurs, hearing the rise in your voice. 
“Already on it.” Jimin responds. 
“You said you don’t talk to Sia which is kinda weird seeing as you seem to know so much about what she likes.”
“You go through all of this instead of admitting you like me, Y/N?” Jungkook begins to laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “You like me. You’re down bad for me just as I am for you.”
You roll your eyes at Jungkook’s words. 
“Stop avoiding what I said.”
“I’m not lying.” Jungkook retorts. “Can we admit you’re jealous of Sia-”
“Fuck you and her disrespectfully.” you bellowed, venom laced in your words. You’re even surprised at how it came out. 
Jungkook licks his lips. “I only talked to Sia that one time in the dining hall,” he admits. “I…I did lie about everything I told you she said. I never spoke to her after.”
You blink a few times, registering his words. 
“What?”
“I just wanted to hear you admit that you were jealous.” now that Jungkook hears himself, his plan sounded stupidly childish. “Admit that you like me-”
“Like you?” you scoff. “You met my parents.”
“Because you were hiding the fact that I wasn’t your boyfriend.” Jungkook shrugs. 
“At the time.” you tilt your head. “I’m with you all the time. I watch your nerdy movies-”
“And I watch your serial killer documentaries!” Jungkook defends. 
“Exactly.” you wave your hands around. “How could you think I don’t like you when we’re constantly together?”
Jungkook understands that you make valid points, but he was but a man and how was he supposed to feel? “I just want to hear you say it.” he shrugs his shoulders, unsure what else to say. “You only say it when I’m fucking you into oblivion-”
“Okay,” you lift your hand to pause his speech. “please don’t get ahead of yourself there.”
“Just say you like me.” Jungkook steps closer to you, reaching out for you. He has a small smile on his lips. “Just admit that you like me, baby. You’re so down bad for me that you somehow got Jimin to make me jealous of your fraudulent friendship.”
Jungkook’s holding you now, arms embracing you entirely. 
“What’s understood doesn’t need to be said.” you murmur, melting into his embrace. You inhale his scent, enjoying the freshly clean scent of his cologne.
“It does.” Jungkook kisses your forehead. He wonders if Jimin told you how he reacted over the phone when you called yourself his girl. It wouldn’t bother him because you know how he feels already.
You roll your eyes. “I…like you.” you say against his chest.
Jungkook pushes you back. “Excuse me?”
“I already said-”
“No, say it again. Without a dick in you-”
You slap his hand from your shoulders. “Oh wow, fuck you-”
“I will.” Jungkook nods erratically. “You can sit on my face until you’re shaking with pleasure, then I’ll fuck you until you’re begging-”
“I like you, Jungkook.” your body heats up at his words and of course, your legs clench for friction. It was as if you and he weren’t just in a disagreement not too long ago. “Ugh, I hate you.”  you murmur when you see the smirk forming on his lips. 
“Hate that you like me.” Jungkook squeals, far too giddy than he should be. “Take your clothes off, baby.”
“They don’t waste any time.” Jimin snorts, wiping his mouth with a napkin. 
“Turn the T.V. up again. Jungkook’s about to fuck some more love confessions out of her.” Chaeyoung warns.
Jungkook’s nails dig into the skin of your thigh, gripping entirely too tight to fight off his nerves. His tongue laps your clit vigorously - with such need. It’s almost like it gave him pleasure by pleasuring you. 
Your hands wrap around the length of his cock, pumping up and down slowly - just because you want to tease him. His tongue laps even harder when you begin to pump faster, smothering himself against you. 
Jungkook groans, the vibration feeling against your clit. You allow the saliva to pool from your tongue and onto his clit, tightening your grip. You then decide to take him in your mouth, the salty taste of his pre-cum hitting your taste buds.You assure to add more saliva to jerk him while you suckle along the tip.
Jungkook’s hand rubs along your ass then upwards towards your back, He gently bites your thigh. “You’re so good, baby…”
Jungkook presses a kiss against your clit before he continues on his assault upon your clit. You want to tell him to stop - you were supposed to be pleasuring him, too, but Jungkook always made things harder. Naturally, Jungkook was competitive, and it was as if he was competing to see who would cum first.
And with the way Jungkook now adds his fingers, pumping entirely just as fast as his tongue suckles on your clit - you were going to lose.
You take Jungkook into your mouth fully, his tip hitting your throat. Jungkook twitches, and that’s when you know you had it. You lay your tongue flat, continuing to suck him fully. You were just as stubborn as Jungkook was, and now it was a game to see who was going to win - even if you’re certain you’d just become submissive like always and allow him to take control.
Jungkook’s groaning against your pussy now, trying everything in him to not lose (lose a battle that should have never started), but you were slurping him entirely too good for him to not want to.
“J-Just cum, already.” you cave, his cock popping out of your mouth, saliva dripping down the corner of your mouth. 
“You first.” Jungkook huffs. “Ride my face.”
“Fuck…you…” you groan, but you do as Jungkook asks. Your hips begin to roll, clit grinding against Jungkook’s tongue. 
Jungkook keeps his hands permanently on your ass, allowing you to take control of your orgasm. He’s satisfied that you’ve decided to cave, his competitive nature satisfied. Now, all you have to do is cum.
You bite your lip to suppress a loud moan - Jimin and Chaeyoung were just downstairs. But you were going to cum on Jungkook’s tongue like he intended, not understanding how you yet again lost the battle against Jeon Jungkook.
Fuck Jeon Jungkook.
Jungkook moans against your clit, a low whine releasing from your sweet lips Your thighs are quivering as you are coming to your high, eyes fluttering close and your head hanging.
You fall against your bed with a sigh. You needed to catch your breath.
“My pretty girl.” Jungkook smiles down at you, now hovering above you. “Are you hungry?”
“Shut up.” you scoff. 
Jungkook’s smile doesn’t falter.
“I was watching porn earlier.” you began. “I want you to fuck my breasts.”
Jungkook chokes at your words, flushing red. “What-”
“Put your dick between my breasts,” you begin, speaking slowly. “and fuck them.”
Jungkook quickly nods, already feeling the familiar throb in his cock. 
“You’re so good for me, Y/N.” Jungkook speaks.
“Put it in my mouth first.” you instruct. “So it can be lubricated.”
Jungkook groans but nods. You suck on his cock for a moment before popping it out of your mouth. Jungkook then hovers above your breast, gulping.
Jungkook moans, pressing your breast together as he begins to thrust. Your tongue dips out so you could lick the tip of his tip each time he thrust forward. 
Both of Jungkook’s thumbs rub along your nipples, his thrusting becoming faster. You're so beautiful and Jungkook would never get tired of saying it. He’s never thought about fucking your breast, but now as he’s doing so, he can’t imagine not doing it again.
You had to admit watching Jungkook fuck your breast was hot - but that was also because Jungkook was hot. There’s sweat lining his forehead and his lips are forming a small ‘o’ shape. Maybe this is what Jungkook felt like when he was pleasuring you - it was because of you that Jungkook was appearing in pure ecstasy.
“You really do like me, baby.” chuckled Jungkook deeply. His fingers twist your nipples. “I can’t believe you’d thought I would ever be interested in that girl.”
You hum, glad that Jungkook didn’t say her name.
“You know you’re the only girl for me, baby.”
“You can cum in my mouth.” you moan, opening your mouth wider and poking your tongue out. 
Jungkook grumbles with a shake of his head. His thrusts become even faster, sloppier. His hands grip your breast entirely in his palms. “My pretty girl,” he pants. “so, so pretty. So good for m-me…” Jungkook’s voice cracks, twitching as he cums.
Jungkook’s cum hits your tongue - warm, salty and great. It’s an abundance, so much cum that a bit drips down your chin. You swallow, licking your lips.
Jungkook falls next to you, legs twitching with ecstasy. He swallows the lump in his throat. He brings you closer to him, kissing your lips entirely. 
“My pretty girl.”
“Ugh,” you groan. “I hate simps.”
Jungkook allows you to fall against his chest and it rumbles as he laughs.  “You’re so down bad for me, Y/N. It's so obvious now.” he teases. “I’ll fuck another confession out of you later.”
You slap his chest, but the throbbing between your legs is evident that you were anticipating his words to be true.
DRABBLE 2 | DRABBLE 3
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chuuyrr · 6 months
Text
KISSIN' AND HOPE THEY CAUGHT US — DAZAI OSAMU
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⊹ CW(s): f! reader, suggestive (kissing, touching, and making out in the office), dazai being a menace, established relationship, mentions of marriage, lovesick! dazai
⊹ SYNOPSIS: in which he wants you, and for you two to get caught
inspired by: agora hills by doja cat !
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dazai osamu could never keep his hands to himself. he was dazai for goodness sake, and he has no shame, especially when it comes to you.
he enjoys being near to you at work just as much as he enjoys being with you in private. so, dazai takes every opportunity to be with you, whether it's holding your hand or twirling a strand of your hair in his hand while you work on reports, subtly leaning his head against your shoulder, or secretly squeezing your thigh, and he always loves the pink blush that spreads on your cheeks as you whisper yell him about pda.
but that's what makes it so difficult for him; dazai loves you too much to keep you a secret. you were his, and he wants everyone to know who you belong to, as well as who he belongs to.
you were about halfway through the papers given to you by the president when dazai slides next to you in his swivel chair, whining as he clings to your arm, "belladonna!~"
"osamu, i'm busy," you smile and giggle, but you quickly switch up, changing your tone as you sigh and flick his forehead, prompting a tiny scream and pout from him, "busy doing the papers you should be doing, mister."
"oh, come on! everyone has already gone out for lunch, and we're the only ones left here!" dazai grumbles as he wraps his arms around you after rubbing his forehead.
"and you insisted on staying with me! ugh, well maybe if you helped me, we can both get some lunch like the oth—" your eyes widen as dazai snatches the papers from your desk, putting them out of your reach and even causing some of the notepads and pens you had on your desk to roll off.
you gasp sharply, opening your mouth to scold him, but he slams his lips against yours, earning you a groan from him.
dazai's hands reach for your waist as he feverishly kisses you, his warm lips pressing deeply yet eagerly against yours.
you turn your face away, attempting to avoid his kiss as you let out a soft whine, trying to tell him off, "not now, osamu!"
but, alas, he closes the gap between you once more, this time much closer as his hands tenderly slide down and hold your hips to pull you into his lap.
dazai feels you squirm on his lap and finds himself chuckling in between the kisses, but he simply holds you firmly, one hand tenderly carressing your hip and the other now on the back of your neck to hold you in place.
how could he resist such a work of art as you? the way the sunlight from the window delicately highlights your face just for him to admire as your hair frames everything perfectly like icing on a cake, and don't even get him started on how you always smell so sweet like vanilla with your perfume.
dazai loves every single part of you and feels the need to be always closer to you, so he has his attention on you like a moth to a flame as you were a temptation for him.
you're so warm and plush in his embrace, and you can feel his warmth seeping through your clothes as much as his hands tenderly hold you in place on his lap.
"m-mmh, osamu. please—" you try to speak again, but he shuts you up with his lips once more, his kiss a demand as well as a declaration of love and desire.
"hush for a second, pretty girl," dazai's breath tickles your lips as he pulls away just a fraction before his lips were on yours again.
"then stop eating my face," you whine softly, grabbing his shoulders and successfully yanking your face away from him.
"aww, and why should i?" dazai says, smirking as he caresses your hip with one hand while the other glides from the back of your neck to your cheek to cup it, "you're just so tempting my dear."
"w-we're at work!" you stammer, squirming on his lap once more, "now put me down or else we might get caught, osamu!"
"too bad," dazai rolls his eyes at you, pinching your cheek before pulling you by the chin, so you were now nose-to-nose with each other.
you feel blood rush into your cheeks at his proximity, and even more so when he says the following words to you.
"i want us to get caught."
at this point, your face was on fire. in fact, the room—no, everything becomes too hot all of a sudden, prompting you to raise your voice out of surprise, "w-what? are you crazy?!"
"crazy in love with you, that is," dazai winks at you before tracing your cheek with his nose, trailing it down as his breath tickles your neck this time, and his breathy voice sends tingles up and down your spine, making you unable to sit still on his lap, "and you have no idea just how far a crazy man would go for his darling angel."
"your hips are an altar i would worship anytime of the day, my love," he whispers as his hands sensually trail from your neck and waist to your hips, squeezing them as he kisses your neck.
as one of his hands began to slip under your shirt, your breaths hitch and you couldn't help but let out a soft whine, and dazai revels in the feel of your skin as he kisses your neck, writing his love on it with marks and soft groans.
"and i know heaven is a thing because i go there whenever i touch you, and whenever i'm with you, baby," he groans with indulgence as his lips continue to kiss and bite at your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt now, caressing your side, the spot just under your chest.
dazai's emotions were all over the place, but it was desire mixed with exasperation. he immerses himself in the sensation of your lips and body during the heated moment, closing the gap between you with undeniable intimacy.
"fuck, i wanna tie the knot," he says in hushed mumbles, completely in love with you.
dazai lifts his head from your neck and presses his forehead against yours tenderly, his hands now cupping your face at a daydream of you that he has now engraved in his mind, "i wanna see my pretty girl in a wedding dress, walking up to me to be with me til' death do us part."
"and i just wanna show her off. tell everyone she's mine and no one else's," a soft, low growl escapes his breath as he claims your lips one more time with a feverish deep kiss to mark his territory, but this time it comes with a hint of tenderness as he strokes your cheek.
"osamu, we're gonna get caught," you say softly, your breath shaky, your hands still gripping his shoulders as he continues his assault of kisses.
"then let them catch us, sweetheart. you're mine to brag about," you feel dazai's smirk against your lips, and his hands on your hips again, but this time they're sliding down to squeeze your thighs in a firm grasp that causes you to squirm on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck.
dazai then purposefully but playfully bounces you on his lap, causing you to let out a sharp gasp mixed with a whine. suddenly, you hear footsteps outside the office door just as his hands begin to slip further past, and your eyes widen. it was as if he knew your coworkers were about to return from their lunch break, and he did know that.
your heart rate increases with strange excitement and fear. you squirm and try to pull yourself up and away from his lap, but he simply holds you tighter against him, his arms now locking around your waist to keep you in place.
"h-hey, now! let me go!" you whisper yell.
"oh, no. you stay right where you are, my pretty girl. i'm not letting you go," dazai says with a grin, finding amusement in your panic, "nope."
"what are we gonna tell them if they see us like this?! kunikida is gonna scold us!"
"heh, tell em' that we were kissing and hoping they caught us~"
"OSAMU!"
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⊹ A.N: happy halloween! ok, but like, after re-reading this and stuff, this was waaaay better in my head ૮꒰ つᯅ⊂ ꒱ა ՞ˎˊ˗
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2K notes · View notes
lovesuhng · 15 days
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pink pen
w.c: 1.1k fluff
You didn't know how many hours you had been in that library; you were tired, but needed to study as much as necessary to do well on your final exams. Your concentration was broken when you felt a touch on your shoulder and then came face to face with one of the most handsome men you had ever seen at that university. His bright eyes, paired with the glasses that fit perfectly on his face, the black shirt that hugged his body nicely and the smile that lifted your worries instantly. You realized he had said something, but you had no idea what it was; after all, you had gotten lost in the almost perfect features of the man in front of you.
"Sorry, can you repeat, please?" You thought that must have sounded like an idiot at that moment, but you were sure when he chuckled before replying.
"Ah, okay. Do you have a pen to lend me? I know it's silly to come to study without bringing a pen, but I must have lost all the ones I had."
"Of course." You searched your pencil case and the only pen you found was a pink one filled with glitter and with a cat on top. You felt embarrassed to hand it to the man, but he accepted it nonetheless.
"How cute! This little cat looks like my Lucy. I promise I'll give it back as soon as I finish taking my notes."
And with that, the man went back to where he was studying, a table right next to yours. You wanted to finish studying quickly, but ended up taking longer than you should have because you kept finding yourself looking at him all the time. You had never seen him at the university before, but you would do anything to find out who he was.
That's how you ended up meeting Na Jaemin, a medical student well-known to many at the university, the very definition of sunshine and certainly one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. You were already used to going to the library, but your visits to the place became more frequent, both to study and in the hope of seeing the man again, although he rarely appeared there.
One day you were in front of the library, looking through the large glass doors searching for Jaemin, but found no sign of him.
"Are you looking for something?
You jumped and screamed, startled by the voice that spoke right next to your ear. You were once again so focused that didn't even see Jaemin approaching. The man was laughing at the situation you found yourself in.
"Do you really find it funny to scare others?"
"It's not my fault you're always lost in the clouds." You just rolled your eyes and Jaemin laughed again. "But you didn't answer my question."
Of course, you wouldn't answer that you were looking for him, so you said the first thing that came to your mind. "I... uh... was looking to see if there was any available table because I need to study, but there isn't, so I'll look for another place to study. Bye."
You wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, but were stopped by Jaemin calling your name.
"How do you know my name?"
"Let's just say I found out." You couldn't help but be surprised by the possibility that Jaemin had asked someone about your. "There's a café nearby that's great for studying. Do you want to go with me? I was already heading there." You could swear Jaemin was nervous about making this invitation to you, but it was probably just your fertile mind creating a scenario that didn't exist.
After accepting the invitation, you were already at the café with their orders placed. Both of you chatted a bit and started studying or at least trying to. Sometimes Jaemin caught himself looking at you. He found it cute how focused you were while reading or when you got a little frustrated because you didn't understand your own notes.
The truth was that Na Jaemin had been watching you for a long time; he always found you beautiful, intelligent, and was really interested in getting to know you better. With everyone else, Jaemin was the most communicative person there was, but whenever he tried to approach you, something stopped him or he just froze.
"Oh..." you said in surprise, catching Jaemin's attention. "You're still using my pen."
"Am I?!" Jaemin said with fake surprise. "It brought me a lot of luck in the last tests, but I guess it's time to give it back..."
"No need!" You interrupted Jaemin, speaking a little louder and becoming embarrassed immediately after. "Since it brought you luck, you can keep it. It kind of suits you."
When tiredness took over, Jaemin insisted on accompanying you to your dormitory, even though you said a thousand times that you didn't need it. On the way, he explained extremely excitedly that he had three kittens, Luna, Luke, and the famous Lucy, and that although they were very similar, the kitten on the tip of the pen you had given him reminded him more of Lucy than her siblings. At that moment, you realized that you could listen to the man talk about the things he likes for hours and that he became even more adorable talking about them.
"Even though I'm allergic, I love kittens." you said when they reached the front of your dormitory.
"You could come to my apartment to meet my babies any day soon..." Jaemin noticed the invitation he had made. "I mean... if you want to, of course."
"I would love to, Jaemin."
Then Jaemin approached and held one of your hands. You were praying that Jaemin wouldn't notice how nervous you were about his touch.
"Can I confess something?" You just nodded. "That day in the library, I asked to borrow your pen because I wanted an excuse to talk to you." Surprise was written all over your face. You wanted to say something, but nothing came out of your mouth. Jaemin noticed this and continued. "I've seen you for weeks, always wanted to get closer to you, but never knew how, and today I made up this excuse to invite you to study just to get to know more about you."
"I've been looking for you all week, but I thought I'd never see you again in that huge university."
"So, does that mean..."
"That I would also like to know more about you..." you handed your phone to Jaemin, in a silent request for him to write down his number. As soon as he did that, you stood on tiptoe and kissed the man's cheek, who was surprised by your gesture. You were about to enter the building when you turned to Jaemin and said, "Oh... that pen suits you more than me."
At that moment, standing in front of your building with a silly smile on his face, Jaemin realized he was stupidly falling in love with the girl with the pink pen.
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thewulf · 3 months
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Not Just Pals || Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Summary: Request - Hello darling! I have a request for you if you don't mind... It's a hangman x fem! Reader pen pals to friends to lovers kind of thing. Like maybe when he was in the academy someone put his name in this program to write to college students but joke on them because he got paired with reader and they hit it off almost instantly... Read Rest Here
A/N: Whew! This one was for whatever reason really tough to write! I changed it up a little bit but I hope you guys still enjoy it. :)
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Word Count: 3.9k +
T/W : Self-doubt
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October 9th, 2014
Hi There Y/N,
I’m not sure how you’re really supposed to start one of these things? How are you supposed to go about talking to somebody you’ve literally never met before? Although the Navy/Army pen pal thing could be interesting. I’ll be honest, my buddy signed me up and I didn’t think I’d actually write anything down but then I got the email with your name on it, Cadet Y/N Y/L/N. Consider myself intrigued.
What’s it like up in New York? Is it cold? Do you get a lot of snow? It gets awfully cold down here in Maryland, so I have to imagine how cold it gets up there. I’m from Texas so I’m still adjusting to this weather… four years later. It’s not easy. I think it’s the hardest part of living in the northeast. I’d rather run a marathon with a thirty-pound pack on than sit outside in the snow for more than twenty minutes. I hope to get stationed somewhere warm when this is all set and done.
Your ‘about me’ says you’re going into the Air Defense Artillery after West Point… which is the exact opposite of what I’m doing. Consider myself doubly intrigued Cadet. What do you do? Fire missiles and rockets at jets? That can’t possibly be as much fun as firing them when you’re in the air. It’s cool just not nearly as cool as what I do, know what I mean? Maybe a close second though.
Have you even been in a jet before? I bet you’d like it. I obviously don’t know you, but I haven’t met many people who didn’t like it. There’s something so freeing about flying 1,000 miles per hour in a tiny silver tube. You should try it sometime. If this whole thing works out maybe I’ll even take you up one day, who knows?
I guess that was my attempt at 20 questions. Hopefully you didn’t find it too annoying. Hope to hear back from you soon!
Jake Seresin
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November 23rd ,2014
Hello Future Lieutenant Jake Seresin,
I’m thrilled you actually decided to write. I’m glad my name was all you needed to pick up that pen. I have to admit you made me giggle a few times. You seem effortlessly funny Mr. Seresin. Even for a soon-to-be Pilot.
I find it comical you’re asking me about the weather of all things, Midshipmen. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do on an awkward first date? But to answer your question, yes it’s cold as all get out up here. But I’m from Indiana so I’m used to it. Doesn’t mean I didn’t wish West Point wasn’t in Georgia or something. Why’d they have to put all the Military schools in the north?
What was it like growing up in Texas? Did you ever see snow? One of my favorite memories from this place is watching my roommate (who’s from Florida) see and play in snow for the first time. She froze her ass off but had the day of her life. She also hates snow now. So, it looks like you warm people have that in common.
To sum it up I guess you can say we fire rockets and missiles. My professors always say, ‘If it sounds like rocket science, it is’. Basically, we need to protect the ground troops from the flying bastards aka you. Although we do love our American flying bastards. So, I guess that doesn’t knock you down too many pegs in my book. Do you think they matched us up because our jobs are the antithesis of the other? If so, somebody had a hilarious sense of humor.
I’ve never been in a jet, and I have no plans to either. I don’t think I’d enjoy it if we’re being honest. You’re talking to the girl who gets sea-sick on cruises and had to take a motion pill if we’re going to an amusement park. My lil brain can’t handle the motion. A character flaw as they say. I also have a sense that you wouldn’t go to easy on me, being Army and all. I’ll stick to my calculations and rockets.
Don’t tell anybody I wrote this, but I do think what you guys do is so badass. I work with a bunch of jealous Cadets who couldn’t make it into the Army Aviation division, they’re just bitter. When I was little my dad used to take me to the Blue Angels shows in Chicago whenever they made their way across the States. Kind of the reason why I wanted to be in the military in the first place. But only my dad knows that. And well, I guess you now too. So, keep my secret safe Mr. Seresin.
I know the weather is less than desirable, but I do hope you’re finding things you love in Annapolis! There are some of the best crab cakes I’ve ever had there.
Thanks for the smiles after a long week!
Your New Friend,
Y/N Y/L/N
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February 16th, 2015
Future Second Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N,
That has a right to it doesn’t it? Your name sounds good with a Second Lieutenant in front of it. Sorry it’s been so long since I wrote. Getting busy with graduation coming up and practical’s and all. It’s a lame excuse I know, but it’s all I got. I hope you know how big I smiled reading your letter to me. I read it about fifty times before I could write a decent response to you. You have a way with words that I haven’t read in a long, long time.
Was your father in the military? None of my family was. I also loved the Blue Angels when they came down to Houston for the air shows. I’d always beg and plead and finally my mom or sister would give in and take me. They’re also the reason I’m here. So, I guess we should thank them that we got to meet. Neither you nor I would be in these academies without them. Your secret is locked away in the drawer and safe in my head too. It’s super safe with me.
I’ll be honest, the food here is so damn good. I sure do miss my Texas barbeque, but the spread is better up over here. Plus, the snacks? I didn’t know there was different brands sold across the states and you guys have better girl scout cookies! That’s just not fair. I could’ve gone my whole life knowing that there were two versions of girl scout cookies and I got the worse version. I’ve enjoyed the move far more than I’ve regretted it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done for myself. It doesn’t guarantee I’ll be a pilot, but it means I’m one step closer to getting there.
What all schooling do you have to do after you graduate this spring? Are you up for deployment soon? I’ve got a lot left to go. If I get picked after I’ve got a few years of flight school ahead of me. Then I’ll really be off. Wish me luck I make it!
With Love,
Jake
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March 13th, 2015
Mr. Seresin,
I was getting worried! I thought it was something I had wrote. I’m glad it’s your negligence and not mine for the lack of communication. I forgive you though. It’s been stressful up here in New York as well. I luckily don’t have any practical’s I need to worry about. Just a few nuclear engineering classes are standing in between me and graduation.
I just have a year of Officer School (if I get selected that is) after this is all set and done come June. We have to apply this April so I’m getting a little anxious about the whole thing. I don’t really have a backup plan that I’d actually like to do so I really, really hope I get selected. Enough about me though, let’s talk about you. You’re going to get picked! Don’t let any bad thoughts get in between you and your goal. I think you’ll make a fine pilot Jake. You seem to have your wits about you which is the first step a lot of people miss.
My dad was in the Navy, like you. Don’t gloat though, it’ll ruin the finely crafted image I have of you. He was a deck hand or something like that. I wish I could ask him some more about it, but he passed when I was just thirteen. I just remember he loved being in the Navy. He loved everything about it. He made it seem like anything was possible with a passion.
I’m glad you’re enjoying the food and the girl scout cookies. It took me by surprise when I got Peanut Butter Patties instead of Tagalongs when I was down south for a winter. I’m so glad I grew up where the real GSC are sold.
I hope this letter brought you as much joy as yours brought me.
With the Same Love,
Y/N
(P.S. – Here’s my number if you’d like to text instead of write. No pressure!)
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It had only been a week since you sent the last letter. Sure, you hadn’t really known the guy all too well but there was something so exciting about sending written mail. You felt like a little kid on Christmas waiting for a response from him. Who knew throwing your name in something so silly for your class would bring you so much joy.
You sat down on your desk setting your computer out front of you to study. Jake was right. It was an awfully busy time of the year. Applying for your future. Studying for you exams. When you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket you truly didn’t think much of it. It was only hours later when you finally closed the laptop shut that you went to check it that your face scrunched in confusion. You didn’t recognize the area code. It was then that it clicked that it could be him.
No pressure at all text! Hi there (it’s Jake).
You grinned reading it over and over again. That was quick! Maybe you made an impression? You sure hoped so. You hardly even knew what the guy looked like. You might’ve gone digging a little when you got his name. He was cute. Handsome even. But he seemed like that type. That arrogant pilot type. But even in just the two letters you received from him you got the hint that he wasn’t that type of guy at all.
I didn’t think you’d actually text me. It’s good to hear from you.
The messages between the two of you were infrequent at best as the semester ended. But he never failed to put a smile on your face. When you needed a pick me up you went through and read the messages that popped up.
On your graduation day you sent him a picture of you and a few friends in a cap and gown with the text: Beat you! You’re also looking at your newest Officer Candidate too!
You didn’t have to wait long for a reply. Your face only grew with glee seeing his response: Congrats Second Lieutenant. And future Captain. Knew you’d do it. You look beautiful as always.
Typing a quick reply, you hid your smile away just knowing your friends would make a stupid comment about the mystery man that always had you so smiley: You’re making me blush all the way up here in New York. I better get a picture next weekend when you do the same, future Lieutenant.
He came through on your request. When you got the text you could only smile. You spotted him in the picture immediately, your eyes drawn to him. He was so damned handsome. How lucky were you to get paired with a guy like that? Your smile grew further when you read the message: Lieutenant (and future pilot) Jake Seresin reporting for picture duty.
The messages occurred naturally between through the years as you were deployed, and he was in school. Some months you texted more and some you didn’t hear from him at all. It never bothered you. The silly little thing called life happened for both of you.
Still, the two of you often made time for phone calls when the time was right. The first time you talked on the phone you thought you were going to quite literally throw up you were so nervous. But in typical Jake Seresin fashion he made you feel cool as a cucumber. You talked and talked and talked into the morning. It felt so normal. Like you were catching up with an old friend. Jake Seresin. Who was this man that was making it hard to date? He was quite literally everything you wanted and needed in a partner. The universe had a funny way of working sometimes.
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It had been six long years since you received that first letter from him. He was off on a mission now. A dangerous one he couldn’t tell you much about. But he wanted you at his arrival back home in San Diego and you promised him you’d be there. Assured him. That’s how you ended up in here pacing in the hotel room contemplating whether you should really go or not. It felt too intimate, like you were intruding. But he did say none of his family would be there, they had other things going on as the mission was a bit of a surprise to everybody. The pilots were all instructed to keep it as quiet as possible.
Your hands were shaking as you parked your car in the overcrowded lot. Gripping the steering wheel, you took a long breath in. You could do this. You had to do this. For him, for you. You stepped out of the car and made you way to the dock. The aircraft carrier was already docked by the time you got to the meeting site. You stood back and waited. Watched and waited. It felt like an eternity then finally the men and women started pouring out in their Navy Whites. You’d always thought they looked the sharpest of the bunch, but you’d never tell Jake that. He’d make fun of your Army uniforms or something like that.
It felt like both an eternity and seconds later that you spotted him amongst the crowd of sailors exiting the ship searching high and low for you. You promised you’d be there. And here you were. He either felt your eyes on him or had an uncanny sense of timing as his eyes locked with your own. His smile had melted you right there on the spot. You felt helpless as you willed your brain to move but it wouldn’t. You only began to panic a little as he moved with ease through the crowd making his way right to you.
He stood in front of you. Jake Seresin stood in front of you, much taller than you thought, “I knew I recognized you. First Lieutenant Y/L/N.” His eyebrows raised as you gaped at him with wide eyes as if he wasn’t really there. Closing your mouth, you knew you needed to pull it together but that sounded much easier said than done. Jake freaking Seresin, your pen pal was really standing in front of you in real life. He was more of enigma in your mind at this point. Somebody you could have deep life conversations with so easily but never having actually met the man it was hard for you to grasp he was really real. And standing in front of you.
“Jake.” You smiled hoping it sounded somewhat normal. He was so much more handsome than the photos he sent through the years. How was that possible? Wasn’t it supposed to go the other way? You continued once your head finally could form coherent sentences, “Well it’s actually Captain now. Got promoted a couple weeks ago.”
He turned his head to the side just slightly, “You didn’t tell me that.” Almost looking offended you hadn’t told him.
“Never felt like the right time to divulge. With this mission and all. Had to keep you locked in.” You looked up to him now studying his face as you gained more courage talking to him. He was something your dreams couldn’t make up.
He nodded not daring to take his eyes off you. He too thought you were even prettier than he could have envisioned. You’d sent pictures and he’d followed your social media, but nothing could’ve prepared him. Especially in your civilian clothes, he was a sucker already. Deep down Jake knew you were the reason he was so non-committal before. He was looking for somebody just like you and couldn’t find her. Yet here you stood in front of him. You were so funny and witty and smart, and yet he couldn’t put it all into words. You are the whole package and so much more.
“You still could’ve told me. We talked enough before I left.” He grinned seeing that the tension was already easing from your shoulders.
You shook your head, “Wasn’t about me Seresin. I just wanted you to stay focused and safe. And thank goodness you did.” You admitted a little more than you wanted, but he just made you feel so gushy. Like you were a sweeter version of yourself you could hardly recognize. And the words just kept flowing out when he gave you that look with those green eyes.
“Oh yeah?” He challenged you a bit sensing that you were starting to feel a bit more comfortable with him already, “Didn’t think you’d be so relieved darlin’.”
Ignoring the sweet term of endearment you shook your head, “And waste six years of my life on nothing? Jake that’s so inefficient. Of course, I want you safe.” The words came fast, and they were snarkier than you intended. But you truly couldn’t help it.  He had you relaxed within the first five minutes of talking to him. You felt like you could just be you.
He threw his head back in laughter. That same weight had lifted right off his shoulders when you snapped back at him like he was waiting on it, “There she is. My favorite mouthy girl.”
He said it so nonchalantly you thought your heart was going to combust on the spot. Your cheeks surely gave way to your reaction to his words. His favorite mouthy girl? Christ. He was trying to send you into a coma or something! Your brain quite literally short circuited as it failed to form any coherent sentence. He only chuckled in response seeing your cheeks heat up in a blazing blush.
“It’s so nice to actually see you in person. You know I’ve always told you this, but it rings even truer even now. You’re quite a stunner, Captain.” His eyes met yours before you looked away quickly feeling as though you were going to faint at those words. You weren’t sure how this interaction was going to go initially. But you really didn’t think he’d come right out and say that he found you stunning. The occasional letter and texts in between had grown flirtier the longer you had known him, but it never crossed your mind he’d be so outright with it.
You turned away out of sheer bashfulness. Never had a man been so bold with you before. It was foreign. Not uncomfortable, no. Nothing could be with him. He made it easier than seemed possible.
“You flatter me Jake.” You grinned up at him hoping your makeup would hide the darkening of your cheeks, “I should say the same for you. Handsome as ever.”
“Now you’re making me blush, Cap.” Sure as hell the faintest pink dusted his cheek, but he seemed much stronger than you. He kept the eye contact going.
You shook your head trying to bite back the big smile you had on your face, but it showed through anyway. How was he doing this? Making you feel so giddy just by looking at him. You knew this man but for the first time it actually felt like you might actually love him. You’d had the deepest conversations with him. When you needed a laugh you texted him. When you craved advice you called him. He was the guy you turned to. And it dawned on you that he never failed to answer you. He wanted to take your calls and answer your texts. He looked forward to it. He too had fallen for a woman he’d never met before.
You needed the change the subject and fast or more words would be tumbling out, “How was the mission? Everyone make it out okay?” You asked having no idea what you were getting yourself into. Jake hadn’t told you much about what they were doing, couldn’t tell you much. But now that it was over he couldn’t wait to tell you every nitty gritty little detail.
“I’ll tell you if you let me buy you a drink?” He gave you a smirk that sent nerves racing throughout your body. Jesus. This man was something else.
Giving him a curious once over you nodded, “Shouldn’t I be the one buying you a drink sailor? You coming home and all?”
“Absolutely not. I’ll never let you buy me a drink darlin’.”
Gosh, Jake was actually going to be the death of you. He was so good making his words come off so easily. You felt terribly high strung next to him, “And why not?”
“Because I’m trying to woo you sweetheart. When I get you to go on a date with me I have to impress you. Inevitably that’ll work and you’ll become my girlfriend. And I can’t have my girlfriend paying for my drinks, no. And it’ll only get worse when I get the pleasure of marrying you. If my wife thinks she’ll pay for a thing she had another thing coming.” He gleamed at you as if he didn’t just say all of that.
You gulped before a stupid smile grew on your face. Of course, you knew he was forward but again, he just took you on an entirely new adventure with that statement, “That’s quite a bold statement Jake.”
He shrugged, “I thought I should make my intentions perfectly clear. I think you’re one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. And you’re perfectly you. Sharp as tack. Funnier than ever. You’re you. And I really like you.”
You let out a breath not sure if you really believed all of that, “So not just pals, huh?” It was all you could think of quickly but that did it for him. Sealed the deal. He knew he was going to marry you right then and there. You’d complete him in every way he needed you and vice versa.
He shook his head taking his arm in yours, “Not just pals.” Leaning into his gentle embrace you led him to your car where he would not let you drive. He insisted that it was a gentleman’s job even if he was only running off four hours of sleep. You’d appeased the man who was on his very best behavior. Not that you minded. Nope, not at all. You were thrilled that Jake was exactly who he seemed to be. Your Jake. Not just pals indeed.
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Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy
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buckysegan · 2 months
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With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration - Part Two
Summary: John writes back to his friend from home and we hear from our friend across the way. John x She. Word Count: 1.2k. A/N: we are def rolling with some historical inaccuracies in regards to letters here but sue me. he deserves it. pstttt also should we name her? do you all want to send me random john prompts. my baby isn't ok and i'm not ok. Part one linked here. Part three linked here.
John was sure he wasn't sweating a normal amount as he looked down at the piece of paper that Buck had offered him. It had taken two whole days of questions from the man for Bucky to even decide that he was going to reply. He’d been offered the hope, what more could he ask of her. Could he ask more? There had been a return address on the letter which Buck had insisted was there for a reason and she had opened herself out for a reply from him but the Major couldn’t help but be unsure.
It was an odd feeling for him, before the war he hadn't been unsure of anything and since he’d been here? Well he hadn’t been sober enough to doubt anything that he had done. These days though Bucky felt like he doubted every single thing. The thing was, he wasn't sure that he could afford to doubt this, to look past the life line that had been offered to him. Not when each day he could feel his mind draw a little further toward the edge no matter how much he or Buck tried to keep it in check.
With a sigh he pulled the pen into his hand, eyes locked on the page for a moment before he began to scrawl.
Dear Friend From Home 
You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you. 
I think the first thing I got to say is thank you. I don’t know if the words I can put on paper are ever going to really tell you how much your letter meant to me. See I was a certain type of man that didn’t think much to pen pals. I figured that I’d be ok, you know, that with my boys I’d have what I needed to make it through the hard days but watching the letters for everyone else roll in has been harder than I thought it might. 
There are things that I can’t tell you cause I don’t know who might read these letters, and where I am I can’t get you no picture but I can tell you that my favorite dish is a meat and potato pie, simple I know but really I’m a simple hearty kind of guy. What makes me laugh, you asked? That’s kind of simple for me too, just good company, myself sometimes, Buck, he’s my best friend, he makes me laugh a lot. What makes you laugh? I’d like to know that. 
May I know where you are? I know that might be a big ask but you said I could ask anything I know and if I get out of here…we get some leave, I’d like to know where I need to ask for me leave to be. Then I can show you what I sound and look like and know that in return. 
If this letter doesn’t reach you for a while, know you’ve been with me the whole time. 
With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration
Major John Egan 
“What if she doesn’t get it?” He found himself questioning quietly to Buck as he handed over the letter to make it out of camp. His best friend settled him with a soft look, one that always made Bucky feel like he had some worldly knowledge the rest of them had missed out on, that assured him everything was going to be alright. “You just gotta have hope she will John, she’ll get it.” 
With a huff Bucky nodded, pulling his hat on as he watched his letter vanish from his view all together. “Alright well I can’t sit here and wonder, I’m off to play baseball or something.”
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The letter that Bucky had so carefully handed over changed hands many more times, some fingers as rough as the pilots, some dirtier, some softer, but the last set of fingers to slide the letter from her post box had perfectly manicured fingers. Her flicking of her post was greedy as she looked for the same thing that she had every day since she’d posted her own letter.
At first, her hopes of finding what she was looking for had been unrealistic; she knew that, it hadn’t even been long enough for her letter to be received, let alone for him to get one back to her, then the other girls at the centre, they’d gotten letters back, notes, anything. That was when she had allowed her hope to return, for a moment at least. Days without anything had turned into weeks and then weeks had turned into months. Anything could have happened, that was what she tried to tell herself, he might not have gotten her letter, he might have thought it was weird and had chosen not to reply. That thought was enough to miff her, he could have at least said thank you. When she had decided no one could be that mean, her diminishing hope had turned to worry, what if he hadn't been able to receive her letter.
Flicking through each white envelope today, she almost missed it, how she didn't know because it was clearly different from the rest of them, maybe she hadn't wanted to look. "Not…" Trailing off she flicked back to the second to last letter, her eyes taking in the scrawling of her address, her eyes checking the postage before she was taring inside. "It's here, he wrote it's here." She called through the halls to the other girls that she lived with, all of which had been holding their breath with her. "Oh god I can't read it, what if he's telling me I was weird!" She cried, thrusting the unopened letter into the hands of her eager friend.
"Don't be dramatic, he's going to be throwing down his gratitude at you being a doll, you should have attached a picture with it I told you!" Meg beamed easily back at her, the same sense of reservation missing from her actions as she tore into the letter so that it could be read to the group. "Dear Friend From Home. You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you." That was enough, pulling the letter from Megs hands she was quick to scramble away from the group once more, locking herself into her room as re-read the opening line herself, the tears in her eyes only welling even further as she continued.
An ache in her chest formed as she read the words once more, taking in each strike of his pen where he had corrected himself or smudge from whatever he'd had on his fingers. The state of the letter was enough to make her wonder, but at least for now, she knew her friend was ok. He was alive, and he wanted to hear more from her. It couldn't have been normal, to feel this level of emotion for a man that she had never met, but she had found herself here regardless and in the middle of so much uncertainty, she wasn't going to question the pull she felt across the way to England.
Pushing from her bed she moved to her desk, paper pulled from her stationary pot, the quicker she could post this the quicker it could get to him.
"Dear Major Egan,
I'm delighted to hear I'm with you. I hope you know, that you've been with me too…"
407 notes · View notes
natailiatulls07 · 2 months
Text
Pen Pals
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Oscar Piastri x Female!Reader
Summary - Strangers to pen pals to lovers
Warning - Cuteness overload!
Reader works in redbull as a media girl
-
Hi there,
I'm Y/n and I'm excited to write you! I've had a few pen pals in the past but none have really worked out.
But I digress, maybe we should start by introducing each other with a few fun facts; I love formula one! I am and will always be a cat person, having two cats of my own and my favourite past time would have to be finding and trying new recipes which either works or becomes a disaster, there's no inbetween!
I look forward to hearing about you and hopefully we'll get on well with eachother!
Yours truly,
Y/n
-
Dear Y/n,
It's lovely to meet you! This is my first time so go easy on me! I loved reading your letter and found it quite ironic as I am also a big fan of formula one.
A few facts about me is that my favourite film is 'ten things I hate about you' even though my friends always tease me for it. My favourite formula one driver would have to Oscar Piastri, next best rookie since Hamilton in my opinion.
Who's your favourite driver? And which team do you support??
Yours truly,
Oscar
-
Dear Oscar,
What a coincidence! I would definitely agree that Oscar Piastri is a great driver, espercially after winning a sprint in his rookie year! But however, I am a Max Verstappen girl through and through so that also means I'm a redbull supporter as well. But I have respect for each and every other driver and team!
I don't see how your friends can tease you about your favourite film, it is a iconic late 90s film with a stunning cast! See picking a favourite film for me is hard! There's too many to pick from like paddington or pretty woman or even oceans eight!
So what gotten you into starting to write pen pal letters??
Yours truly,
Y/n
-
Hi Y/n,
Yeah with my job I find that alot of the people I talk to are very fake and greedy. I felt as those if I just starting writing letters to someone I could keep an anonymous identity. I hope you'll respect that, I'm sure you will!
Don't get me wrong I love my job, it's something I worked my whole life for. But it feels some what suffocating sometimes.
What about you? You said that you've had pen pals in the past but none have really worked out. I can't see why though, you seem lovely and have a great taste in sport!
Yours truly,
Oscar
-
Dear Oscar,
Understandable. I promise to remain respectful and I won't pry. I think a pen pal is the perfect way to step away from our lifestyles, it gives us someone that won't judge and you can realise to them.
I started writing to pen pal when I started college. I moved away from all my friends and had a rocky break up with my boyfriend at the time.
So from then I tried to find the best pen pal. But believe it or not, not many people start a pen pal to talk to others and hear others but to just talk about themselves.
A pen pal relationship should be equal and not one sided so often those relationship will have lasted just under two months. But lets not dwell on the past.
Wait important question now! What is your zodiac sign?? It tells you alot about a person.
Yours truly,
Y/n
Time skip a few months -
Hi Y/n!
Just read your last letter, loved your descriptive story about your now sister in laws hen party! I need to see those drunk photos immadiately.
My summer break just started, I have a lot of down time and not a lot to do. Please do you have any suggestions!? I have a feeling that I'm going to spend my summer moving between the gym, my apartment and my local store.
How did the date with that guy go? Was the trip to the jungle mini golf really worth it? I remember I went on a date once, we went to a nice restaurant and by the end of the night she was black out drunk. WORST DATE EVER!!
Yours truly,
Oscar
-
Dear Oscar,
I would give you suggestions on what to do this summer. However just like you, my sofa becomes me seconds home after my bed. Well actually every summer me and my bestfriend deciated a day to binge watching all the Harry Potters! We go all out, getting themed snacks and making a fort out of blankets.
Oh my god! The date was horrible! All he did was talk about his family riches and how 'successful' he is. And to add salt to the wound the place was filled with whiny children. NEVER AGAIN!
Also I've add the photos from the hen party to the envelope, non of them have my face in it but you can see that the bride is enjoying herself.
Yours truly,
Y/n <3
Photos in the envelope -
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Hey Y/n,
Looks like the hen party looks as exciting as it sounded! Send my crograts to the bride and groom please.
I'm sorry your date went like that, I hate rich snobs who just glot and I work around them a lot lol! A girl like yourself doesn't deserve to be treated like that, you deserve fancy restaurents and meaningful date. I know I would give you the world.
Harry Potter marathon?? Mmm doesn't sound like a bad idea, I might rope my friend into then, he's british so he'll feel right at home!
Anyways I've been thinking...over these last few months I've grown to trust and adore our little letters back and forth. And I was wondering if you wanted to exchange numbers or something, idk.
I'm actually in Barcelona next week for work, but we can arrange something if you wanted. I just feel like I'd want to put a face to a name and exciting personality!
Yours truly,
Oscar
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Hi Oscar,
The world huh? Thats a bold statement...
Wait that ironic! I'm also in Barcelona next week, we could meet somewhere. I can't really do Thursday through to Sunday, that's when my work really starts.
But yeah we can meet at some coffee shop or something, I seen some nice recommendations on tiktok recently.
I'm actually really excited for this! I've never had a pen pal that actually worked out, let alone wanted to meet me, so I feel lucky! Yeah these letters have been fun to write, it's like I've learnt so much from you. Thank you so much!
OMG did you watch the last f1 race in Montreal?! Oscar Piastri, Max Verstappen and Daniel Ricciardo podium! I'm sooo proud Piastri, he is slowly but surely moving up and competing with Verstappen for my fav driver! There I said it!
Yours truly,
Y/n <3
-
Dear Y/n,
Is Piastri growing on you Y/n?? Ooo that's exciting! But you wouldn't want to disappoint the current world champ, his no 1 fan is going to the dark side!
I would definitely give you the world! In a heart beat actually, you've single handedly made me feel normal and human again and I am forever thankful for that!
So you're working Thursday through Sunday...the exact days that formula one is active in the same city. I feel bad for you honestly, I'm sorry...
How about we meet up on the Wednesday? Should we meet at the three marks coffee?? I've heard great things about their coffee!
Meet me there at 1pm! I actually can't wait! See you then!
Yours truly,
Oscar <3
Outside the cafe -
Stood just outside the cafe, Y/n fiddled with her bag. She didn't know why she was so nervous, she would trust her pen pal Oscar with her deepest darkest secret if needs be.
Busy was an understatement. And Y/n knew fully well why, it was the reason why she was here this week. Formula one. Being one the media girls at redbull meant that she had to attend every race, not that she was complaining.
Just down the street was Oscar, walking head held high and a large grin on his face. He was beyond excited to meet the mysterious Y/n.
When they both began sending letters to each other, they agreed that neither would pry for surnames, addresses and other personal details.
The one thing they decided to do today was dress in all white, making it easy for each of them to pin point each other.
Oscar approached the cafe, his eyes scanning the area for a women dressed in all white. Until he spotted her, it was love at first sight!
He was obsessed with how she stylied her hair, and what she decided to dress like considering the white rule. "Y/n!" Calling out her name, as he made a quick walk towards her.
Y/n could hear her name being called and when she turned she came face to face with the one and only Oscar Piastri smiling down at her. A gasp broke through her lips, surprised that he was her pen pal.
"You're my pen pal?" She asked in disbelief. The Australian driver nodding his head excitedly. "You let me hype you up about your driving and didn't tell me?"
They both broke out into laughter. "Yep! And I loved it!" Oscars face held a cheeky grin, that Y/n instantly fell in love with.
-
After settling down in a small secluded table just outside the cafe, Y/n turned to Oscar. Her face now holding a cheeky grin. "Is now the best time to tell you that I work at Redbull as a media girl?"
Now it was Oscars turned to look shocked, shaking his head in disbelief.
"So you're telling me we've been right under eachothers noses the whole time!?" Neither expected that they were in reality quite close to each other whilst they were sending letters back and forth.
"What are the chances? Right?"
"Fancy leaving Redbull and join me in Papaya? maybe then Oscar Piastri will be your favourite driver..."
"Oscar!"
-
709 notes · View notes
hecateslore · 3 months
Text
💌
supervisor!simon
this one's a little hefty.
When you get home you throw your bag on the couch and let out a sigh. Your phone rings in your pocket, pull it out quickly answering it noticing the companies number, “Simon I swear to god-” 
“It’s not Simon.” Johnny’s voice was heard through the, “Johnny!” your eyes widen, you wipe the snot from under your nose. “Are you okay?” his voice thick with concern, you could almost see his thick brows furrowing as he spoke. “Yeah, I’m good.” You say, nose stuffy.  “Didn’t look too good when you left.” he chuckles. 
“I uh, I quit.” you purse your lips awaiting his response. “Oh.” you shut your eyes tightly at his response, “ What are you gonna do about work?” smacking yourself on the forehead, what are you going to do? You didn’t think you were gonna quit this early, with no response from your bestie's manager, anxiety started to build. “That’s a wonderful question.”  you let out a nervous laugh. “Also, how’d you get my number?” you stand with your hand on your hip, phone held between your cheek and shoulder, “Linda.” You felt like you just pushed your firstborn in front of a bus, leaving the beauty that she is. 
“Oh, Linda.” You feel the tears well in your eyes. God Simon was such an ass, to You, to Victor, to the old hires. “I’ll text you later, I gotta go.” Johnny says in a quick hushed tone. You hear the phone click and you wipe your eyes. You sit on the couch trying to figure out what your next move is. 
You're one step ahead, done with the emotional taxing job. Now you need to find a job, you remember the hot pink flier that said “now hiring” in the supermarket. Only downside is that it doesn't pay much. But you need a job now. Only until you can find something with better pay. 
There’s that cafe around the corner, but not too many people go in there.That one furniture store that always says they’re going out of business. You groan and put your head in your hands. 
Simon walked past your empty desk wondering when would be a good time to reach out so you can gather your things, also so he could maybe apologize. Your knick-knacks sat on your desk, the pen where you left it. It was all Johnny's fault. He distracted you. Simon felt like you and him were getting somewhere. Like when you told him you weren’t going to quit (oh he’s delu). 
He had a chance to turn it all around, you were starting to get the hang of things. Not wearing your headphones, talking to him a little. Sometimes saying hi. He’d see Johnny making goo goo eyes at you. The way you two would joke around, and how you would slightly push his arm when he made an inappropriate joke. 
Simon’s eyes skimmed the office, Johnny sat at his desk ducking behind his screen on the phone. Simon wasn’t dumb, Simon’s observant. Narrowing his eyes he could hear Johnny’s voice speaking lowly, light chuckles and he swears he can almost hear you on the other end. 
Feeling like he wants to run over to his desk, Simon walks quietly to Johnny's desk hoping to catch him on the phone. Pale blue eyes catch onto Simon and Johnny hangs up the phone quickly. “Who’s that?” Simon asks. “Just some customer.” Simon only nods, “What’d they want?” Simon quizzed. “Uh life insurance” Simon raises his eyebrows, “Why’d you hang up?” 
“They didn’t need it.” Johnny tried his best to sound convincing. “They didn’t need life insurance?” Simon could only smirk at his answer, “Why don’t  they need life insurance anymore?” Simon knew what he was doing, trying to get Johnny to confess. He used to do it all the time.
He’d try to break people down with the most simple questions, making them stumble over their words, back track. He’d make them really think. Simon knew it was you on the phone. He saw the way Johnny's eyes followed you out of the office. The way his body language changed after you left. “You know the people and the policies Si.” Johnny chuckled. 
“And you couldn’t find them a better plan?” He could see the gears turning in the poor guy’s head. “They didn’t want to hear it.” Johnny falters. “I’m sure.” He sighed. “I’ll let you get back to it then.” 
-
Tuesday Simon sat at his desk with his door wide open, watching Johnny answer phone calls, Seeing him twist the phone cord and chuckle. Sometimes ducking his head every time he needed to have a laugh. Johnny was smart, but not as smart as Simon. He knew what you two were up to. He knew every time you called. So he decided to catch Johnny in a little trap. 
Simon checked your work file, getting your number he dials it on the company phone. Your phone rings only once before you answer, “Johnny, you’re gonna get in trouble-” Simon almost wants to gag. “So you’re the one calling about life insurance?” Simon taunts. Dead silence is heard on your end, “Why’re you calling.” You sound mad and He notes your tone, it's bitter and spiteful. “Cause your stuff is here.” He smirks, kicking his feet up on his desk. 
-
On the other side of the phone you’re laying in bed on your computer filling out applications. “I'll pick it up on friday.” You roll your eyes, hoping he can hear it. “Why not today?” Simon’s voice deep on the phone. Which is very different from Johnny's. Johnny goofs around a lot, poking fun at people from your old job, laughing at the text messages you send. Johnny’s lighthearted. He’s cutesy, Simon’s not. Simon’s like that Itch you can’t scratch. That stray cat you feed, who won’t stay with you but wants your food. 
“I have stuff to do” You huff. “Like what?” His gravelly voice makes a weird feeling in your stomach. “Like, none of your business.” Simon only laughs at your response. “Why’d you call?” You grumble. “Because you need to pick up your stuff.” 
“That’s not happening today.” Simon only hums at your answer. “So it’s happening Friday?” You pull the phone away from your face to roll your eyes yet again, “Yes, Simon.” you answer annoyed. You both are silent for a moment, “You know you could come back whenever you want, right?” Simon confesses. “I’m not.” You say and hear Simon's deep breath on the other end. 
“Is that all?” Annoyance still in your voice. “That’s all.” (okay miranda priestly!!!!) Simon says and the phone clicks. You let out a deep sigh. You feel hot from the phone call (great simon, now my chussy’s wet!) His voice sounded so deep, like he’d been napping all day. That was the downside of quitting, no more eye candy. Simon was so handsome until he opened that mouth of his. He was so smooth sometimes. Like when there’d be something wrong with your computer and he’d hover over you to fix it. Just effortlessly handsome. He was so mean to you though. Maybe he didn’t mean it, maybe that’s who he was because of the military. Or maybe he was just that way because he just is.
Your phone rings again, the supermarket’s number on your screen. You’d been emailing the store's manager, going back and forth about a potential position for you. The best they could do was a cashier which you thanked whatever God that was out there. 
“When’s the earliest you can come in?” The lady on the other line asked, “Is Thursday okay?” you ask , “That’s the earliest for you?” the lady’s voice monotone. “Uh,y-yeah.” you stammer a bit. “Uniforms a black shirt and black pants come in at 7. I’ll have someone to train you.” You almost jump off your bed, a temporary job secured. Step two is now in motion. 
“Okay thank you!” You say cheesing extremely hard. Once you hear the other end click, you flop on your bed face first, squealing into your mattress. 
-
Wednesday, Simon walked into the office with a wide grin on his face. Saying hello and good morning to everyone. An evil plan to monitor the workplace, or in this instance, monitor Johnny. 
Standing with a mug full of black tea. He stood by Victor's desk where he had a full view of Johnny's screen and back. Johnny could feel Simon’s eyes but he chose to ignore him. Simon walked around the office slowly, pacing himself, waiting for your phone call. Simon sat at your desk, pretending he has interest in what Linda is saying, making ooh’s and Ah’s at some random story. He always wondered how you had so much patience with her nonsense, she just went on and on. His body language aligns with Linda but his ears listen for Johnny's hushed voice. 
That’s when the phone rings and Johnny’s eyes shoot at Simon, and from Simon’s peripheral he can see Johnny bring the phone to his ear slowly. Simon excuses himself from the conversation, remembering “he left his tea” by Victor's desk. Johnny shifts in his seat angling the phone away from Simon's vision.  
Simon picks up victors phone dialing “* # 55” and puts it to his ear hearing your boisterous laugh. “Johnny don’t say that!” you warn. Simon pays attention to Victor's screen. “What? I'm just joking.” He says casually, “ but I do think he’s obsessed with you.” he chuckles lowly. 
You let out another laugh, and all Simon could think is corny. “He’s probably listening as we speak.” Johnny ribbed. You giggle at His lousy joke, Simon only rolls his eyes, “Aren’t you two friends?” you say, “I mean, yeah. “ Johnny scratches the back of his neck. “Not as close as we used to be.” he shrugs, grabbing a notepad he draws random shapes. “When are you getting your stuff?” he asks, “Friday.” you answer, “Maybe we can grab lunch?” you suggest, “That’s what got us in trouble in the first place.” Johnny laughs. Simon puts the phone on the hook, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation. 
Simon walks past Johnny, and he could hear him whispering he’s got to go and that he’ll let you know what time his lunch is on friday. Simon goes back to his office, he sits in his chair going through all of the forms Victor managed to fuck up while he listened to Johnny and yours conversation. 
-
Thursday arrives and you're sitting outside waiting for the supermarket to open, you can see your old office in the distance, all your old coworkers entering the building. “You’re the new hire?” A man with a name tag that says “kyle” on it asks you. “Yeah.” you say standing from the chairs on the store patio. “I’m kyle.” he shakes your hand. You introduce yourself and you both walk into the store. “Are you training me?” you question, “Oh no, that’s Ashley, she’s waiting for you in the break room, she wanted me to come get you.” He answers. “Oh cool,.” you follow him to the back of the store. “What do you do here? If you don’t mind me asking.” 
“I’m one of the butchers.” he smiles. “Oh.” you say smile fading a bit, “I just cut and trim the meat.” he chuckles. “Oh I thought-” 
“I know what you mean.” he says as he opens the break room door for you. “You’re set.” 
-
Down a couple of buildings, Simon stares at the vending machine, nothing looks appealing. Simon noticed all the Snapples left behind. He knew you liked those, you were the only one who’d buy them. He wonders what you’re up to. Simon kind of wants to call you and bother you about your stuff, just to hear your voice. He likes to frustrate you, and the way you groan every time he asks a dumb question on purpose. 
There was still thirty minutes til opening time, he could run down to the supermarket and grab something to eat, maybe another box of tea. Simon looks down at his watch, he’s the supervisor, he can manage to be a little late. 
So Simon put his coat on and walked out of the front door. A lonely walk to the supermarket, It was pretty quiet, not a lot of people out this early. Simon walked through the automatic doors, lo and behold there you stood behind the register, refreshing your memory. Simon saw you joking with the lady that was training you, making jokes about how slow you were moving and you both laughed at the way you opened the cash register slowly. Simon wanted to walk up and say something, but he took a glance at his watch and just pretended he didn’t see you. 
Simon walked up and down the aisle trying to find something that would please him, so he settled for two granola bars, a cup of yogurt, and a new box of black tea since he was running low.  
-
You finished ringing up the teenage girl who bought four packs of gum and tried to buy a pack of cigarettes. You see a familiar figure bending to the lowest shelf to grab something. You felt your eyes may be deceiving you, you kind of been paranoid hoping you wouldn’t run into any of your old coworkers. 
And maybe you had a sixth sense. Self check out wasn’t open and you were the only person on the registers. You could hurl. There he was standing with two granola bars, a yogurt cup all in one hand and the box of black tea in the other. Simon walked towards your register placing the items on the conveyor belt. The items move towards you slowly. You both watched the items closely.
“Well this is awkward.” 
591 notes · View notes
avocad1s · 10 months
Note
this is a weird thought but I definitely know that in sagau theres some mfs making fanfiction about the creator. Like imagine the creator visiting whatever nation they go to and they just see a self insert book about them. I know some acolytes religiously read them before bed every night (cough yae miko cough)
Note: Not weird at all Anon! I enjoyed this a bit more than I should’ve.
Mostly a crackfic just the acolytes being delulu
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Without a doubt there are TONS of books about you all throughout Teyvat. No matter what nation you are in, you will always find what you’re looking for if it’s related to the Creator.
People have wrote books about how you created Teyvat, their speculations on how Visions were made, and even your relationship with all of the Archons. Of course there’s no telling which books are true or not, but it’s about you and they’ll consume anything that has your name in it.
That of course includes fanfics.
The fanfics aren’t openly talked about, many people feel embarrassed and don’t want to be judged by their peers for consuming that content. People who write such content always use a pen name, not wanting to attach their work to their true self.
Despite the embarrassment, these books are quite popular in all seven nations.
The Sages in Sumeru tried to ban them for being exported to their city claiming that are extremely disrespectful and sully the image of you. But that doesn’t stop the books from being smuggled in, many people, even scholars within the Akademiya, own at least one fanfic.
Inazuma is of course the main producer of these novels. Under the guidance of Yae Miko, many people have the chance to have their work published. (Yae has no shame whatsoever 💀) The Kitsune proofreads them all personally and critiques them harshly. Only the absolute best will be coming out of her publishing house.
Liyue, the place where all goods come to be traded and sold, are the ones who get the most exports of these products. Of course they’ll say they are simply for profit, which some of them are, but lots of them are for the Liyue citizens themselves. Even the Adepti read these novels but they always comment how odd mortals are to want Their Grace in such a way. (Yeah they projecting cuz they want you too 😩🙏)
Imagine all the arguments people have had debating whether a fanfic characterized you properly or not. Lmao.
Once you’re in Teyvat the fanfics don’t stop, actually they increase.
Now people have the chance to watch you from afar and come up with even more scenarios they’d like to imagine you in.
You mention your favorite food? They’re gonna write fics about taking you on a date to get that food.
You mention your favorite hobby? Yeah, you get the idea…
Of course they never expect you to find out about these books but it’s not like they’re hiding it. Just imagine how awkward that would be to see a self-insert book about yourself.💀
Now no one is reading these books publicly, that’s way too embarrassing for them, but once the sun is down and everyone is going home to rest once again, that’s when the books come out.
You know how some people need the perfect fake scenario before they fall asleep? Yeah that’s them with these books.
They’ll read to their heart’s content and eventually fall asleep having dreams about you hoping that one day they can meet you and make the fanfic a reality. They’re a bit delusional and the fics aren’t helping 💀
-
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© avocad1s 2023
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 10 months
Note
would love to see a pt 2 where he continues to give her tiny gifts because he doesn’t know reader knows! then one day she finally gives him a gift of his own and he then gets the guts to actually ask her out on a proper date :,)
this is so cute! im so glad lots of you wanted a part 2 :) thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
secret admirer part 2
miguel o’hara x f reader
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wc || 949
part 1 -> here
masterlist
It had been nearly two weeks since you found out the identity of your secret admirer, and to say you were shocked would be an understatement. You never thought Miguel would think of you in that way. Sure, he's attractive, sometimes charming and occasionally funny, but you'd never thought he'd be interested in you like you were him. 
You've always had a thing for him, but who wouldn't? Ever since you joined the Spider Society, you couldn't help but feel drawn to him. You found yourself thinking about him more often and dreaming about him almost every night. You knew it was silly as he'd never reciprocate those same feelings, so when you found out he was the one who gave you the rose, the thought of it all went to your head. 
For the first couple of days, you couldn't quite believe it. You'd find yourself thinking it must've been a mistake, a simple misunderstanding, something you were incorrectly interpreting. But all those wary thoughts were reassured when you received another gift on your desk the following day, a spider charm bracelet.
Every day since then, you found small, thoughtful presents in your office, cute little gestures; like the type of chocolate you've secretly been craving, a cup of coffee you'd desperately need when it gets to 3 pm, a fresh bouquet of flowers to brighten up your space, a new pack of pens when all your others ran out, just anything he thought you might want or need. All these tiny, considerate actions made it impossibly harder to contain your feelings towards him. He didn't know you knew, and you wanted to keep it that way, for the time being anyway. 
So for the last two weeks, you've received an abundance of gifts from your not-so-secret admirer, which has given you a little boost in confidence, like it made you want to do something bold, something in return. You want to give him something back, something that shows you care about him, something that shows how you feel. You wanted to express your repressed feelings, but though his feelings were clear through gifts, you were still uncertain of his intention. You didn't want to embarrass yourself, especially in front of Miguel. If he rejected you, you knew word would get around HQ, and there isn't a way back from that.
You didn't let those feelings deter you. You thought you'd start small, build up to something, build up to something bigger, but you didn't know what. Miguel is naturally a very closed-off man. A man with a thick exterior, rightfully so after everything, and so you were unsure what to give him, what he might like, what he might need. 
You wanted to give him something special, something thoughtful, just like all the gifts he got for you. For the moment, you settled on a generic and brief heartfelt note and a coffee, as he seemed like he needed one. 
'Thank you for all of my lovely gifts. I really appreciate all of the thought you put in. It made me feel so special
Love from your secret admirer’
You wrote the note in your best handwriting, adding hearts over your 'i's before folding it in half. You walk down to the cafeteria and order Miguel's go-to hot pick-me-up drink and a cupcake for you. You slot the note into the heat protector sleeve and pull out the corner so it can be noticed. 
Your knees were like jelly as you made your way to his office. Your nerves were unbearable, but you reassured yourself, thinking of all positive outcomes.
You flatten over your hair and straighten your clothes as you nibble your lips, adding a touch of colour to your face before knocking on his office door.
"Yeah?" he huffs in his usual way.
"Hi. Sorry is this a bad time?" you ask, cautiously making your way inside.
"Querida," (darling) he smiles, now speaking sweet and gentle. "What can I do for you?" his expression instantly softens at your presence. The moment he heard your voice, he melted inside. He'd become an uncharacteristic ball of mush around you. And it was happening right now. "You okay?" he asks, noticing the tense look on your face.
'Querida'? 'Querida'? he called you that often, but you didn't know what it meant. Why did he call you that? You shake off the feeling and walk closer to him. "Yeah—yeah. I got something for you. Thought you might need it," you smile, extending your hand. 
He softly chuckles as he strolls over to you, accidentally brushing over your fingers as he takes the cup from you. "How much?" he asks, sitting at the edge of his desk, facing you. He notices the quizzical look on your face and grins. "For the coffee, cariño. (honey) How much do I owe you?" 
"Oh—oh. No, it's free. It's on me," you smile, watching Miguel's lips sheepishly curl up. "It's a thank you,"
His head cocks to the side with intrigue. "A 'thank you'?" he repeats.
"Yeah," you smile. "Look in the sleeve," you nod towards his hand.
His eyes squint in confusion as he slides down the protector sleeve. He notices the note, and his features instantly lift, brightening almost.
He's silent for a few moments as he reads your letter. He's quiet, far too quiet, and it's making you nervous. It's only two sentences. Why is he still looking at it? Did he feel embarrassed for you?
His gaze finally meets yours, and his eyes soften, but you can still see a hint of something behind them, something uncertain, something apprehensive. 
"I want to take you out for dinner— tonight. Are you free tonight?" 
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moralesmilesanhour · 10 months
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Hello!!! How are you? I’ve been a follower for the past few days and was wondering if I could request something.
I was hoping to request a fic or like give you a prompt for something for miles42 × femreader
So it goes like this- yk those super corny reads that are like the reader's pinning for miles and like sometimes miles finds them annoying but in a cute way but he don't know that her yk? So he's talking to his homeboys about her, talm about some how she's so "annoying, a nuisance" and guess who's behind the wall listening? The reader herself.
So this goes one of two ways- she either matches up there, confronts him. And she's like "flipping fine, if that's how you feel then lemme get out of ur way- you won't hear a peep from me" and she like just ignores him and he learns how he feels about her, sees how his life is so boring without her and all that- goes to apologize happy ending..
Option number 2: silent treatment. Like just slowly drifting away until he once again comes to the realization that he needs her and all that happy ending yay!
Feel free to do whatever you want with this but I'm thinking of sending the same request to other authors to see what they come up with cause everyone has a style k? And i just love studying them and reading them cause evervtime- no matter how similar the prompt is- they always manage to invoke different feelings with in me.
Anyway- have fun doing this- but remember you don't have to cause this is kinda too much and I'm sorry😓
"I want my pen back."
wc: >1,200 A/N: okay so i got a bit carried away...this is a long one. (yes I am using this as an excuse to try out the gradient thing) thank you anon for this fun request! i also rlly like ur reasoning behind it and i hope i was able to do this prompt some type of justice lol
The gel pen clattered to the ground.
“I got it,” you said, grinning at Miles. You squat to grab it before the boy can act to get it himself, and he sighs as you hand it to him.
“Thanks.”
Miles turned the pen every which way between his fingers.
You had gifted it to him on the first day of school, with that same expectant grin. The little cartoon dogs that surrounded the perimeter had begun to fade with use because – admittedly – it had actually turned out to be a good ass pen.
He’d thought initially that you were just being nice; maybe you were handing shit out to everyone because it was the first day, understandable. 
But then, it was highlighters (the erasable ones).
Pink sticky-notes on his locker, telling him to have a nice day with the ‘i’s dotted with hearts.
A new sketchbook for Secret Santa.
Miles’ pencil case had rapidly gotten bulkier, and when you rushed to grab a seat next to him during the one class without assigned seats, it finally clicked.
You were trying to get his attention. And he wasn’t sure what would happen if you got it.
“I like the new braids.”
He was snapped out of his thoughts, and turned to you.
“Huh?”
“The braids,” you laughed. “I like the pattern. Who did ‘em for you?”
A tiny smirk ghosted the boy’s lips.
“My mom. Just like the last time you asked me.”
He ran a hand instinctively over the meandering zig-zag pattern that his cornrows had been sectioned into. Miles looked at you from his periphery; you were still staring. 
“Bitch, just ask him out already!”
Your friend smacked the back of your shoulder as the two of you took your sweet time getting back to your lockers.
“Alright, today, I swear,” you said, hand over your heart for emphasis.
A beat of silence passes. “But what if he says no?” 
She groaned.
“Then he says no, and you can save your money. But say something, it’s getting embarrassing.”
Your friends’ encouragement landed you here, around the corner of a building where Miles and a gaggle of other boys from your homeroom were bursting into raucous laughter.
“Yo, why you ain’t bag her yet? She wants you bad,” one boy said.
Unsure if the ‘she’ in question was you, you stay where you are and keep listening.
“I dunno, she kinda annoying,”
Miles’ low voice makes your ears perk up.
“One day she gon’ run outta things to say about my hair, she has to!”
…Oh.
The buoyant feeling in your chest sinks as the group erupts into another laughing fit. If you asked him out now, you’d hear about it for the rest of the year.
Shoving your phone into your pocket, you turn back the way you came. 
Miles knew something was off when you sat down the next morning without a word. 
“You good?” he asked.
You glanced at him, then nodded before going back to playing with the beads in your hair. The excruciating silence stretched on for almost the entirety of class before it was broken again.
“Do you…wanna help me with my homework? I’ll really let you, this time.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“Morales, you got an ‘A’ in every class.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Your name’s on every bulletin board.”
“Damn,” the boy muttered to himself as his leg bounced under the desk.
Your beads clattered against your back as you rose from your seat. The bell had rung, finally. You didn’t even say ‘bye’.
Miles cracked open his locker. One of your sticky notes from last week had begun to un-stick and fluttered to the ground. There were no new ones. He bent to pick it up, noticing how neat and round your handwriting was on these compared to the way you wrote in class. The letters didn’t run together, like you were in a rush.
Neatly folding the note and sticking it in his pocket, Miles shut his locker to reveal your face. The boy nearly yelped in surprise.
“Where the hell did you come from? Scared the shit outta me,” he said with a grin.
“I want my pen back.”
Miles froze. 
“Which pen?”
You tilted your chin up towards the one he was currently gripping in his left hand. He looked down at it like a wad of cash.
“Oh.”
He couldn’t just not give the pen back to you…
…but he didn’t want to give it to you, either.
“What you need it for? Don’t you have, like, a whole store full of these?”
“Miles, I gotta get to class. I’m not playing,” you reached for Miles’ hand, but he raised it high above his head.
Instead of a smirk or mocking sneer, something like worry was etched onto the boy’s features. 
“Tell me what’s up witchu first.”
“What are you talking about? I’m about to be late, c’mon.”
“You ain’t said a word to me all day,” he dropped his hand momentarily. “Are you sick? Did I do something? What–hey!”
You had snatched the pen out of the boy’s hand when he wasn’t looking, throwing it into your bag.
“I thought that’s what you wanted.”
You turn to retreat down the hallway, but stop with a huff when Miles calls after you.
“Wait!”
“I’m waiting.”
“Come see me after school?”
You kicked an empty can down the sidewalk in front of Miles’ apartment.
“Make this quick, I gotta go study.”
He looks everywhere else to avoid meeting your eyes, looking for the right words.
“You didn’t answer me earlier,” Miles awkwardly shuffled his feet. “Are you mad at me?”
“...Yeah, kinda.”
“For what?”
You stop to think for a moment, crossing your arms. 
“For…for letting me hand you that pen, knowing you weren’t gonna give it back,” you began.
Miles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “That’s it?”
You shook your head profusely, “N-no, I’m not done. You let me buy you all that stuff, put all that dumb shit in your locker, whole time you don’t even like me–”
“You don’t know that,” Miles interrupted. Your head snapped up to look at him, and you paused.
“I don’t?”
Neither of you say anything for a moment, then Miles remembers the note in his pocket. He takes it out and shows it to you.
“These? Are cute as fuck,”
He searches for more words, ten continues, "A-and I use that sketchbook every day. That pen? It’s like, my favorite,” he laughs. “I got half a mind to steal it back from you.”
Miles watches you expectantly. Your arms are still crossed, but the corners of your lips quirk up in amusement.
“So you like getting free stuff.”
“No-! I…”
The boy’s arms had begun to flail around in frustration. You hold back a giggle, never having seen him squirm like this before. It’s a nice change of pace.
“Alright, listen. I like hearing you talk to me every morning, and…”
He trailed off. He had begun slightly bouncing on his toes.
“...I like you.”
At some point while watching Miles struggle to explain himself, the float-y feeling in your chest had come back. You tilted your head to the side, and smiled.
“Okay. What are you gonna do about it?”
The boy’s eyes lit up.
“Where do you wanna go?”
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moonstruckme · 5 months
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Hi lovely!!! As I mentioned earlier, I apologize again do sending so many asks, I'm sick and stuck at home rn, so my brain has been working on overtime, so if I have an idea and think u might like it, I am sending them lol.
I wanted to know if u could write spencer x bau!reader, where reader is a technical analyst with Penelope for the team. But the last case was a pretty big one and she ended up sacrificing her sleep and needs to Penelope and everyone else could rest? So now that the case is over shes beng kinda stubborn and doesn't really wanna adress it, nor rest till she finishes the few remaining things?
Like always, you don't gotta write anything I request!!! I hope you've had a good week so far and get plenty of rest lol <333
Sincerely, :]
Hi sweetheart! No worries, send as many as you like! I'm just answering them at my own pace :)
Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 876 words
“Hello my favorite genius.” Penelope snags Spencer by his sleeve just as he’s about to step into the elevator, using his momentum to swing him around and start him back the other direction. “I need you to get your ladylove out of my office—” she winces. “Our office. Sorry. Old habits, they do die hard.” 
“She’s still here?” Spencer asks, having learned long ago how to bulldoze through the fluff of conversations with Garcia. “I thought she’d be home already.” 
“Oh, no,” she says gravely, voice dropping to a whisper as they near the tech room. “I don’t think she’s been there in days. You cannot say anything, but she’s starting to smell.” 
Spencer prepares himself for the worst as the door opens, but all he finds is you, cute if a little bedraggled, hunched over your keyboard. 
“Hi,” he says tentatively when your glassed-over eyes don’t leave the screen. Your face is awash in blue light, blank but for the determined pinch of your mouth as you work. “Ready to go home?” 
“You can’t kick me out,” you say. Spencer blinks in surprise and a bit of hurt at your blunt tone before he realizes you aren’t speaking to him. “You can’t make him kick me out, either. I just have a few things left to do.”
“Very admirable work ethic,” Penelope shoots back, her own voice chipper with a steel edge, “but you’ve done plenty. We can finish this tomorrow.” 
You don’t stop typing even for a second. “Go home, Pen.” 
She gives Spencer an emphatic, helpless look behind your back, and he nods, signaling for her to go. She backs out of the room with her hands held up in front of her like she’ll need to ward you off, grabbing her bag and shutting the door behind her. 
“Hey.” Freed from the last constraints of professionalism, Spencer slips into his most honeyed tone. “Let’s get out of here, sweetheart. I’ve got a bed and a fridge full of almost-bad takeout waiting for us at home.” 
“Just a couple of things left to do,” you mutter, but your tone is considerably less hard than it had been with Penelope. 
“There will always be things left to do.” He walks up behind your chair, setting his hands on your shoulders and his chin on your head. You smell a bit stale, a sure tell you’ve been too long in this room, but nothing so bad as Penelope had warned him about. Just day-old you. “I may not know the full scope of things, but I know you’ve been working really hard on this case. You deserve some rest. You need some rest,” he amends. “Let me drive you home.” 
Something like longing flickers across your expression, but then it hardens back into resolve. “Thanks, Spence, but I can drive myself once I’m done.” 
Spencer decides to switch tactics. Oftentimes, the best way to get you to accept help is to let you think you’re actually helping someone else. He straightens and takes a couple of quick steps back from your desk with your chair in hand, rolling you with him.
“Hey!” you reach for your keyboard, but Spencer’s already swiveling your seat, turning you to face him. 
He sets his hands on the armrests. “Sweetheart, I just got off a four hour flight after a three day case. I’d really like to go home, but I’m not leaving here without you.” The divot between your eyebrows takes on a new character, frustration softening into sympathy. “And you haven’t even let me say a real hello.” 
A spark of happiness lights your eyes a second before they fall closed, face tipping up in eager anticipation as Spencer dips down to kiss you. It’s soft and lingering, and you rub your lips together self-consciously after it’s over, realizing how chapped they are. Spencer wonders when the last time you drank water was. 
“Sorry,” you say softly. “I didn’t mean to hold you up.” 
“You’re not,” he reassures you quickly, wanting you pliant but not guilty. “I mean, I don’t mind. Of course I don’t mind waiting for you. But are you ready to go now?” 
You cast a hesitant, skeptical look back at your computer, but Spencer smooths his thumb over the inside of your wrist, and you relent. “Yeah, okay. I just have to come back early tomorrow to finish up.” 
Spencer hums noncommittally. He was already planning on disabling your alarms after you’re asleep tonight. You need rest more than the higher-ups need your reports. You stand, grabbing your bag from under your desk and letting him shepherd you towards the door. 
“Do you think we could order some new takeout?” you ask him. 
“Good idea,” he agrees, somewhat relieved. “The stuff in the fridge has chicken in it, I don’t trust that.” 
Your laugh is somewhat lighter than usual, exhaustion setting in now that you’re out of your cave, but Spencer relishes the sound regardless. “Yeah, me neither. Pizza?” 
“Pizza,” he confirms. 
You make it all the way downstairs before your eyes flare and you spin around. “Shit, I think I left the light—”
“Nope.” Spencer takes you by the shoulders, steering you towards his car. “Someone else will take care of it.”
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