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t-lostinworlds · 3 years

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Twenty-Five (Tom Holland)

a/n: well, i haven’t posted a fic in a while and i’m scared asdfghjkl. anyhow, this was a last minute idea, a.k.a was written fairly quick so bare with me for it may be shit lol. hope you guys enjoy! oh, and happy birthday to this handsome man in a turtleneck!

pairing: tom holland x female!reader trope/genre: none summary: Tom unwraps his last gift for his birthday, from you. warnings: implied smut (18+), nothing detailed, will include a glimpse of dom!tom at the end. word count: 1.6k+ (short but sweet spicy)

masterlist in bio

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It's been ten minutes since you arrived back home from Tom's birthday dinner, a simple yet eventful night with friends and family. It was a given that the birthday boy was probably tired from all the fun and rowdy activities, add that to the fact that he'd been entertaining his guests the whole evening. But, with one last gift, it was also a given that your night was far from over.

You were nervous, there was no denying that. This was the first time you'd ever bought something like this, much less, show it to someone else. Despite being together for almost two years now, you hadn't really dabbled much into showing Tom a much more alluring type of clothing. But since it was a special occasion, you found no harm in giving your man a little surprise, a gift, as you might say. So of course you were nervous since this was going to be the first time that Tom will see you in something so...lacy, dainty, and well, sexy.

After checking yourself countless times in the mirror to make sure everything was right—with a few pep talks thrown in as well—you tied up your short, red, silk robe before finally coming out of the bathroom.

You found Tom sitting on your shared bed, still sporting his outfit of the night which was his tight, black turtleneck, biceps practically begging to be free with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. It was paired with his striped pants, one that was making his thighs look even more ravishing, inviting. He was looking handsome as always. His eyes were glued to his phone, fingers typing away, probably responding to more of his endless sea of greetings.

You silently made your way in front of the bed, fingers toying with the hem of your robe from the jitters. Taking in a few steady breaths, you tilted your head and said,

"Tom, go on and unwrap your last present for tonight."

"Huh? What present—oh," Tom cut himself off, eyebrows rising once his gaze landed on you. He hurriedly put his phone away, even doing as much as putting it inside his drawer, and you could only assume he turned Do Not Disturb on as well, the eagerness written all over his face. His smirk grew wide as he stood up from his place, walking over to you with his brown orbs gradually turning a shade darker. His hands found themselves on your waist once he was in close enough proximity, squeezing it tenderly. "Is my present under that robe?" he asked, voice falling down an octave.

"Maybe," you said with a shrugged, a feign innocent smile playing on your lips.

Tom shook his head. "I think I might need to sit down for this," he chuckled deeply, settling himself on the foot of the bed, spreading his legs wide so you could stand in between.

He kept his eyes locked with yours as he twirled the tie of your robe around his fingers, smirk only growing wider once he saw you swallow the lump in your throat. With how close you were, he could probably hear how your heart was beating so loud. Tom always found pride whenever he earned any reaction from you by doing absolutely nothing yet. It was very smug of him, but Tom being confident and in control will never fail to be so damn attractive, who were you to complain?

Agonizingly slow, he undid the ribbon, eyes never leaving yours even until the fabric had loosened around your body. Then, Tom reached up, fingers slipping underneath the silk, touch unhurried as he gently pushed it off your shoulders. The smooth material slipped down your body with ease and pooled at your feet, Tom still holding your gaze but only for a moment. With a deep breath, his orbs flickered down, features befalling with awe, his jaw dropping as he cursed,

"Fuck."

It was a simple, red, 3-piece, lingerie set. The garter and lace detailing covered so little but enough to still leave something for the imagination. It was hugging your body in all the right places, accentuating your shape in the most flattering of ways. The set was practically see-through yet the fabric was still cut out in certain areas to show even more skin. There was a ribbon right on top of each bra strap and then a matching one right in the middle of the hem of your panties.

"Absolutely stunning, you are," Tom marveled, almost like a gasp, hands wandering from your shoulders, down your arms, curling around your waist before proceeding down your thighs. His touch was laced with utter worship and praise. Add that to the way he was gazing you up, your nerves were quick to be replaced with confidence. You giggled softly, cheeks flushed as Tom did nothing else but caress your flawed skin amorously, making sure that there was nothing left untouched. His eyes were roaming just the same as if he was being extra sure that he wasn't missing a single detail, both on your perfect imperfections and the lace alike.

"You like it?" you asked.

Tom scoffed, shaking his head as he looked up at you with much adoration. "Like is a massive understatement." Squeezing your waist, Tom let you go as he leaned back on his arms, now all sprawled out with a wide smirk. "Step back a little, darling, I want to see all of you," he drawled. And you did, walking back a few steps so he could get the full scope. Tom shook his head with a low groan, "Fucking gorgeous."

"Now, give me a spin."

You laughed timidly but did so anyway, nothing but hums of satisfaction and appreciation coming out of your man as you did a full 360. Once you were facing him again, you found him with his head tilted far to the side, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his eyes stayed down to which you assumed was ogling at your backside. Your assumption was swiftly proven right when Tom threw in another request.

"Turn to the side a little, sweetheart," he asked, not at all trying to be discreet as to where his eyes were glued. With the confidence brewing in you, you posed for him sideways, chin on your shoulder as you flashed him a charming smile. Tom bit back a groan, admiring you from head to toe, shaking his head and blowing out his cheeks once he did so. After a few moments, he met your gaze again with nothing but a proud and satisfied look on his face. "Difficult decision," he pondered, a soft hum with his voice all deep.

"What?" you giggled.

"I can't decide if I should rip it off of you immediately," Tom paused, tilting his head at you with a knowing grin as he continued with a guttural tone, "Or fuck you while it's still on."

You bit your bottom lip to suppress a whimper, thighs instinctively pressing together which only earned a low chuckle from you man. Yet with your newfound confidence, you took a breath, a soft sigh as you ran your hands slowly, teasingly over the lace repeatedly. Tom's eyes followed your fingers, brown orbs coated with much hunger and lust.

"Well, don't rip it yet. It's new," you hummed, pouting at him sweetly before you shrugged. Toying with the garter of your panties, you added, "Then again, you are the birthday boy, you can have your way however you may please."

Tom's eyes snapped back up to meet yours. There was a flicker in his orbs, like a switch, and that was when you knew he caught on that your words meant more than just the lingerie.

"The latter then," he concluded, sitting up straight before his hands patted his lap, beckoning you closer. "Come here."

You walked over to him slowly, making sure to sway your hips sensually, which made Tom shake his head at you with a low groan. Once you stood right in between his legs, you lifted a hand to grab his shoulder for support, ready to straddle his lap. That until he caught your wrist midway into the air.

Tom shook his head no, tutting with a menacing smirk. He brought your wrist to his lips, giving it sweet, chaste kisses before he slowly guided you to where exactly he wanted you. You felt your insides churn when he simply said, "On your stomach, my love."

With a sharp breath, you did as told, situating yourself on your stomach, your body sprawled right across his thick thighs. You shivered once Tom ran his fingers down your spine before tracing the fabric that hugged your body so delicately that it may have seemed like he wasn't even touching it at all. He was silent, merely admiring, and dare you say it, enjoying his view. If the certain hardness that was poking your stomach wasn't a dead giveaway, then the way he was breathing heavily, would. Yet once he spoke again, you felt your whole body fire up, every inch of your skin tingling with utter fervor and excitement.

"How old am I again, darling?"

You gulped. It was rhetorical, but an unanswered question could only do more harm than good for you.

"Twenty-five."

Tom only hummed in response. There was no use for words anyway when you felt his warm palm smooth over the supple flesh of your ass that was exactly in his line of sight, exposed for his and his sight only. Yet in contrast, the cold metal of his Rolex on your skin emitted another shiver from you, a shaky breath escaping your lips soon after.

Tom chuckled proudly at your reaction, a few seconds of silence floating over you both before a sudden, sharp smack rang in the air.

Your body jolted in utter surprise. The stinging sensation immediately covered your cheek at the harsh impact, starting from where Tom's hand once was before the heat spread to your very core as you breathlessly moaned,

"One."

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thank you for reading love! like, reblog if you enjoyed and lemme know your thoughts! x

#tom holland #thomas stanley holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x female reader #tom holland reader insert #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #dom!tom #my writing

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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

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@butterfly-mochi Rewrote this freaking thing thrice because it keeps getting deleted wth tumblr agjvahkfajkvk- I enjoyed writing it a lot tho and since I’m too weak to the characters I ended up writing for all of them (except for Sucrose, im sorry bb huhu, I ran out of brain power). This is my first time writing for so many of them in one go so please excuse me for any mistakes or blandness ywy thank you for letting me write for my baby Ganyu too hhhhh

Universe Reversal 2

Genshin Impact Character Reader and Modern Players with Zhongli, Childe & Ganyu (how they simp for you) (event masterlist / Part 1 / Part 3)

Zhongli the F2P

The most relatable out of the bunch because this man is still broke and can only rely on the primogems he can farm. And he had a LOT. The one thing he doesn’t have a lot on, however, is his luck.

So how did he manage to pull you?: Well after exhausting all his primogem on your banner with nothing but weapons and other characters, he has lost his resolve. But by some weird luck, there was a character bug that was fixed and in his email was the almighty consolation primogem. Enough for ONE pull. And by the Gods he FINALLY got you.

He’d nonchalantly post his screenshot of pulling you using a single acquaint fate in his friend group without any words and everyone else just loses their shit. “You got them in one pull?!” “Yeah” A riot.

This was partnered with the fact that not only is Zhongli an F2P player, but also barely has any five star characters.

He looks calm and apathetic over the news, but behind the screen he’s exhausted and relieved, silently livid.

He has no primogems left to squeeze for a constellation so you’re instead pampered with the best weapon suitable for you (because that’s all he keeps getting).

Zhongles spends most of his time farming for materials to quickly level you up, unlocking all your stories and voiceline, but he fucked up on your build (his artifacts are messy).

He follows communities, forums and videos regarding your character to know all the things he needs to perfect your build. You can barely make a dent against normal mobs, so he knew he was doing something VERY wrong.

Is the type of person to keep refreshing the page for new content, very updated.

Ask him a question about your character and he’s gonna bring you the word vomit that is his research. He’s not gonna stop- probably accidentally developed a copypasta for you.

Also follows your VA in both Tiktok and Twitter to indulge in every bit of content. He also has that screenshot of his pull saved and locked.

On his birthday, a friend of his gifted him a chibi plushie of you and he has treasured it ever since, treating and handling it like its a figurine.

“It is merely pure luck and grace from the gacha gods that I got this character, and I will make sure that they know I am very grateful for this fortune.”

Favorite Voiceline: Birthday Message

Childe The Whaler

This lucky wealthy bastard with no remorse for his money whales for EVERY character. He’s making a collection, which is to get all the characters, especially the five stars. So when your banner finally popped up, he’s gonna square up and trigger a whole ass meteor shower.

How he pulled you: Money. His luck with this games are actually not the best so he always compensates with money, he got you halfway through the first failed pity, almost giving him a heart attack that he might actually break the bank just to get you.

And then he pulls more to raise your constellation lol.

The first thing he does is look over your character info and read through it all; constellation infos, your base stats, artifact compatibility.

At the end when he’s maximized everything, he would then focus on playing around with your character *coughs climbing noises coughs*

He thought you’d just be another part of his collection but playing with your character was very enjoyable and in-line with his playstyle- oops 100 screenshots with the Kamera-

Any and all merchandise that he fancies would be his, and he’s definitely flexing it to the other sweetie nerds who call themselves simps. He’s fighting for the simping title, and he’s currently neck and neck with this fanartist in Pixiv.

Speaking of that fanartist, he definitely commissioned an expensive and detailed portrait of you, full rights and everything. No one else was allowed to use it but him.

Was also the first one with the audacity to call out your VA to create an account on Tiktok to create more content with your voice. He was successful.

His obssession also comes in the form of self-indulgent contents, and had been keeping track of the ship wars happening. During conventions, he cosplays as the character shipped with you the most (or the character he thinks should end up with you).

Silently scrutinizing those who cosplay you, only ever taking pictures with/of the best looking one, sorry haha

Definitely flaunts that you are his waifu/husbando and will fight for best girl/best boy during debates or polls. Has mobilized the community to vote for you once. He’s very persuasive.

“Hm? Why I’m just the best collector in the game, and I am more than happy to let everyone know that I am their number one fan haha, everyone who claims otherwise is definitely wrong!”

Favorite Voiceline: More About (Y/N) I-IV, (Y/N)’s Hobbies...

Ganyu the Employed

Ganyu, our dearest overworker, is one of the players in the older stage who actually has a job but still plays Genshin for their past times. The gorgeous sceneries and the music is her main focus in playing the game, not much of a try-hard but still decent in the combat mechanics.

How she pulled you: You came home within 50 pulls! And you appeared again after another 10 pull! Ganyu was so SHOOKT and so distressed because oh goodness, what does she do? She doesn’t know anything much about you!

Will rewatch your three trailers to try and understand your skills better, ended up saving the soundtracks from them because that was such a nice trailer music! Tnbee gains a new follower!

Ganyu will take a while before she can properly play or build you up because she’s so busy with work, she only ever plays when she feels fully done with her work.

During her break she plays with your character while multi-tasking on eating, earphones plugged in and sight on the phone as she farms materials and artifacts for you.

The moment she gets more help from her player friends tho, holy shit, you just ended up being so OP. She had so many good artifacts and weapons for you because she didn’t know what they were for before.

She loves how you’re so easy to use and can easily solo the enemies and even the boss fights. A huge breather, because now Ganyu can cheese the battles that takes a while, to give her more time to focus on the storyline and lores.

Since Ganyu plays for the story and aesthetic, she’ll find you almost always in her team. Still very proud of her pull, she makes the best screenshots of your fights or in the best angle through exploration.

Treasures you so much she starts talking to her phone- “Ah, no, please don’t fall.” “There’s violetgrass up there, let’s try and get it”

Blushes everytime you produce a sound when climbing, doesn’t change you anyways tho

Hums to your trailer music while working, and if permitted, would have the song on repeat while she buries herself in work. She finds it really refreshing and the time she spends in work miraculously flies by fast when she gets lost in the sound.

At one point, when she was given a day-off or if the convention was on her free time, she attends to look for cosplayers of you and take a picture. No one rejects her because she’s so adorable and cute when asking shyly.

Had brought a decent amount of merchandise, preferably the functional/practical ones like a phone cover, mug or keychain. Also has an earphones clamp with your little chibi self as the holder.

When asked, she would shyly announce that she likes your character the most.

“Their character theme and music really soothes me during work, it feels nice to have them, and I have not once regretted ever pulling for them. They are the best.”

Favorite Voicelines: Good Night/Afternoon..., About Us, Something To Share..., Interesting Things...

so enjoyable...

@moaa @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @dandelion-dreams @snackgod @rxsalinee

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #ganyu x reader #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact childe #genshin impact ganyu #exile.circlet #exile.flower #sojourner specials #reeeeeeeeee #gender neutral

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chainofclovers · 3 years

Text

Ted Lasso 2x10 thoughts

GOOD GOD.

“No Weddings and a Funeral” is like being hungover but also coming out of a hangover. Having a terrible cold but also feeling better and appreciating every breath that comes through your nose. Embarking on an organizational project and accidentally falling into a photo album and crying about the pictures and organizing almost nothing tangible but making a few things more clear in your brain.

So much of this episode is about the AWFUL POINTLESSNESS OF DECORUM. How loud is too loud when you’re drinking stolen wine and shrieking about sex in a church right before your father’s funeral? How should you feel--thirty years later, as an accommodating, anger-averse person--about having been too angry to attend the funeral for your father who killed himself? What expression should you make when you show up really late to a different funeral? Why must you wear uncomfortable shoes just because someone died? What happens in your mind between standing up to give a eulogy for a man you’re still angry with and choosing to Rick Roll your mom and everyone else as an act of complicated love, humiliatingly incomplete until someone else starts to sing? Should you worry about your therapist seeing your normally tidy flat in a full-on state of depression mess? Is it okay to be offended that your boyfriend is so uncomfortable about death that he can’t stop making morbid jokes? Should you care about other people caring that you’re crunching an apple in church or squealing with joy to be reunited with a friend you’ve not seen in awhile? Are you obligated to explain your behavior if your kid doesn’t understand how you could stay with someone unfaithful? How far behind the counter should you sink when your [undefined relationship person]’s mother has just let you know she can see your dick through your underwear? Is a funeral reception an okay place to find a hookup? Is a funeral reception a decent spot for a break-up? Is a funeral reception a good time for a love confession when you know the person you’re confessing to is happy with someone else? And who do you make eye contact with when you can’t look directly at the person asking you if you’re okay when there’s so, so much about you she doesn’t know yet? Even if--for this tiny little moment within a vast swath of many okay and not-okay moments--you’re honest when you tell her that you are?

I fucking adored this episode because it answers all these questions very simply: Show up. Show up for yourself. Show up for your friends. Try not to harm yourself. Try not to harm your friends.

I love that this episode is about the messiness of adulthood and the things we bring with us from childhood and that it takes place partially in Rebecca’s childhood bedroom, and in Ted’s childhood memories. Dwelling in those places (whether physically or mentally) isn’t an automatic recipe for regression, but it does get everyone closer to the things that made them who they are, to the unresolved and half-buried parts of them that still make them tick today.

Forever obsessed with every single detail about Rebecca’s childhood bedroom.

Forever obsessed with Deborah’s decision to Rick Roll herself every single morning of her life.

Forever obsessed with Rebecca’s decision to Rick Roll her father’s funeral as a way to not have to make up a single word about her father and to do something very vulnerable and kind for herself and her mother and everyone.

Forever obsessed with Ted’s decision to Rick Roll Rebecca Rick Rolling her father’s funeral.

Forever obsessed with an entire found family backing it up.

I love that it is Isaac’s leadership that ensures every single member of the team attends the service for Paul.

I am very, very interested in Jamie’s love confession to Keeley because I do think it will spark some reflection in Keeley but I do not think it’ll go the cliched love triangle route.

Each scene with Rebecca and Sam struck (for me, a human being sharing a subjective perspective on the internet) the tender-awkward-beautiful-stressful chord I was hoping it would. I think it’s wonderful that Sam is honest with Rebecca about how difficult it is to keep their relationship a secret, and I love that Rebecca has a million mostly-unarticulated reasons for why she’d much prefer the secret to continue. I like that Sassy, Keeley, and Nora respond to the revelation as friends; they might be tempering their judgments in part because they’ve all gathered to bury Rebecca’s dad, but I don’t think their reactions would’ve been that different even on a happier occasion.

While there are a million and one different reasons why a continued relationship between Rebecca and Sam could cause serious ethical problems, I really love that when people share big news on this show, the people who care about them generally react by trying to see why the person is doing what they’re doing. Doesn’t mean they shouldn’t also hold each other accountable, but in my book it’s OK that Keeley’s first reaction was to feel happy that her friend is having some fun.

Also everyone has been making weird judgment calls this season, and this episode felt like a moment of real breakthroughs in terms of people telling the truth about things that happened to them and leaving themselves open to honest responses from others.

September 13, 1991. It’s so tenderly, beautifully, overwhelmingly meaningful that there’s still so much Ted and Rebecca don’t know about the things they have in common in these parallel lives they’re leading. The scene between Sarah Niles and Jason Sudeikis is so beautifully acted, and so is the scene between Hannah Waddingham and Harriet Walter. The way they intertwine to communicate that Ted and Rebecca basically lost the ability to trust their fathers simultaneously, from an ocean away? In the hands of lesser storytellers, it would feel too perfect a mirroring, but here it feels heartbreakingly imperfect. All the things they still don’t know. All the questions they try to ask each other. All the things they don’t dare ask yet. And then the storytellers are holding a candle up to all of it and letting the audience bask in the glow of this connection even if Ted and Rebecca can’t fully understand it yet.

I am so proud that Rebecca and Deborah were able to embark on the beginnings of a conversation about the ways Deborah and Paul’s relationship might have resembled or not resembled Rebecca and Rupert’s. It feels possible that they could get to a point where Rebecca truly internalizes her mother’s pride that she broke a cycle by leaving Rupert, and could maybe even understand why her mother made the choices she made. I love that in the final scene, they’re still relying on their old mother-daughter conversational patterns—the frustrations, the snippy shorthand, the passive-aggression. Mothers and daughters!

I am also proud that Ted—albeit via a joke about Sharon charging him for the house call—indicates that he understands the value of Sharon’s work. He’s changed a lot, all in realistic ways for someone who loves learning and really does want to meet people where they are and appreciate them. I’m very moved that instead of putting himself in a real harmful situation by showing up to the funeral on time at any cost, he did what he needed to do to take care of himself and accept care from someone else. And then Sharon’s suggestion that he think about things he loved about his father? And the way he’s able to share a positive memory of Rebecca’s own father at a time when she really needed it? Gosh.

Awkward, undecorous transition from 1991 to present-day incoming...but SASSY! She’s just, like, a whirling dervish of loyal friendship and not giving a fuck and penis size discussions and being casually, delightfully cruel to Rupert, who so deserves it. Rebecca was going on a real face journey when Sassy goes off with Ted at the end, and I’m sort of *eyes emoji* about all of that, but I continue to feel like Sassy is the most imperfectly wonderful friend-from-the-past kind of person and I love everything she and Nora get to do in this episode.

Keeley saying “That baby is whack” might be my favorite line in the episode? Maybe the whole show? Not really but really.

FUCK YOU, RUPERT. Bex and Diane, y’all are fine. And I truly feel for Nate...whatever scheme he’s getting suckered into. Whatever insecurity Rupert is preying on. I want Nate to go to therapy, too.

I feel like it was an unpopular opinion at the time, but I loved Rebecca’s 2x1 revelation about vulnerability and fear of getting hurt and needing to let someone love her. Sassy doesn’t always word things in the most nuanced way, but I think there’s a real possibility that she did ask Rebecca to really consider what it means to feel either safe or unsafe with a person but to know that in either circumstance, that person could end up causing her pain. Standing in that closet with Sam, managing to make it clear that she’s not asking for a break because she knows he will hurt her but because she has to figure out how to be with a wonderful person who could cause her pain...the growth, man. Makes me emotional.

I emerged from this episode feeling, of course, stunned by all the amazing parallels and revelations and beautiful acting and Rick Rolls and just, everything. I also emerged feeling sad/raw/tender because messiness and decorum and growth and coping mechanisms and death and dramatic irony and not knowing things about people and not knowing what you don’t know...it’s a sad, raw, tender place to be.

To quote a guy who got a whole sitcom (lol) named after him, life is real hard.

#ted lasso #ted lasso s2 spoilers #meta by me #ted lasso 2x10 #a lesbian watches ted lasso #lotta feelings in here y'all #cw suicide

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cherryyharryy · 3 years

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please write something about Harry overhearing the reader’s friend tell her that Harry doesn’t spend time with her that she deserves someone better they hang up b4 the reader can say anything like angst to fluff

Thank you for requesting!

This is 80's harry lol

WC: 2.4K

Harry pauses the music on his Walkman, slipping the headphones off his ears to rest around his neck while he fiddles with the key to his apartment.

She had spent the night—his angel. It had been quite the set up, since she still lives at home with her parents while finishing college, a little white lie was passed around to cover her absence. Harry wasn’t a secret by any means, but her parents weren’t the most open minded, and a small fib was easier to handle than trying to rehash the same discussion of y/n being a grown woman. It was hard enough for her to get their approval for college...one mountain at a time.

Harry’s ears burn as he sets the groceries down in the kitchen, the thought of her still tangled up in his sheets beckoning him back to his room, is enough to drive him wild. He doesn’t catch himself zoning out until the phone rings. He untangles his music off his shoulders and yanks the phone off the wall, but y/n has beat him to it, her soft morning voice greeting Caroline before Harry can utter a word.

His brain is too slow in making the connection that he should hang up. That he shouldn’t eavesdrop on his girlfriend’s private conversation. That he owes her the respect that her parents never give her. But he hears his name, specifically, he hears Caroline ask y/n how last night was, so the phone stays glued to his ear.

“Amazing,” she purrs, and Harry’s stomach flips. “We did it like, three times.”

The girls giggle, and Harry shuffles on his feet with a veiny blush spreading all over his body. He can imagine y/n draped in his sheets, phone cord wrapped around her fingers, just a few steps away from him

“Better be nothing short of amazing,” Caroline says, “with what little time he gives you anyway. Ugh, if Tony ever left me hanging as often as Harry, I’d dump him so fast.” She smacks her gum into the phone and Harry flinches. “He tried to ditch me one time to go see Scarface with Rob, and I was like, hell no, you’re taking me skating like you promised. Honestly y/n, you can do better. You’re surrounded by college boys, go find a future doctor.”

The phone almost slips from Harry’s hand, but he catches it and hangs it back on the wall, just in time for his entire world to start crumbling to his feet.

Did he really not spend enough time with y/n?

How long has this been a topic shared between them?

And why hasn’t she said anything before?

Harry stands in the middle of his kitchen, immobilized. He can’t lose her, especially not to something he can fix. She’s been his girl since they were sixteen, there’s too much history between them, or so he thought.

He files through the memories he has of them together, trying to quantify them, trying to see where he started slipping.

Maybe it’s when he took over his dad’s business? But she knew how demanding it would be, and always supported him. Or maybe it’s because they don’t go out as much? Between him managing an appliance store, and her working towards a bachelors, they often opt for nights on the couch watching SNL reruns.

His mind is foggy, and he doesn’t catch his bedroom door creaking open.

“H?”

Harry startles back to present, gripping the counter as y/n emerges from his room wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

“You okay? Look like a deer caught in headlights.”

“Mm, no, fine.”

“I heard you come in a bit ago.” She flicks her eyes over his kitchen, looking for the breakfast he had promised to make almost an hour ago.

“Didn’t want to be too loud.”

“Oh, alright.” She smiles, attempting to diffuse whatever awkward tension has settled in his home. “Well, cook away! I can help too.”

He grabs her wrist before she reaches the fridge. “No, I’ll make it for you. Go back to bed.”

“You sure?”

He nods, forcing a smile.

She peers back over her shoulder twice on her walk back to his room, hoping to figure out what’s going on, but learns nothing.

As soon as his door shuts, Harry flies around his kitchen, grabbing what he needs to make the fastest breakfast in the world.

He’s going to spend every free second he has with her, and doesn’t want to waste any if he doesn’t have to.

***

Harry knows he’s borderline annoying. And he knows his actions are beginning to appear creepy, if not bizarre. He tags along with y/n everywhere she goes now, even at the doctor where he almost followed her back to her exam. She gently placed her hands on his chest and told him that she would rather the doctor do the job, promising she’d be out in no time.

She’s been tiptoeing around him too, not sure what to make of his new routine of gluing himself to her side, hoping it will wear off and things will go back to normal.

But she waits and she waits, and normal never resurfaces.

“H, baby, I can’t concentrate with you so close to me.”

Harry looks offended, slipping his reading glasses off his nose and closing the book he was halfway through, giving her his full attention when he asks what she means.

Y/n peers around the library, not wanting to have this discussion so publicly, but too keyed up to wait any longer. “I’ve just noticed that you’ve...been a little clingy lately? More like a lot.”

“I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

“You’re picking me up, and walking me to my classes—”

“Thought that was nice?”

“You don’t even go to this school. Listen, the sentiment is nice, but I’m starting to feel a little suffocated.”

Harry bites his cheek so hard he draws blood. “And what did Caroline have to say about that?”

“What?”

“I’m sure that nosy friend of yours had a lot to say about me when you brought this up.”

“Excuse me!”

“Quiet, please,” one of the staff members shushes y/n, “Or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Y/n ignores the snickers from a table of girls nearby, recoiling her embarrassment and turning it to anger. Her voice, although lowered, now drags out of her mouth in sharp tones. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I heard everything, that morning Caroline called my phone to talk to you about how crummy of a boyfriend I am.”

That morning, now a month ago, is hardly a memory in y/n’s head. She fights around for details of the conversation, but comes up empty handed. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, and frankly, I don’t care.” She starts closing all her books and gathering her school work to shove into her bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

Harry blinks, fumbling for his next question as y/n hurries across the library. He’s quick to catch up with her, waiting until they’re outside where they don’t have to whisper. “Don’t walk, I have my car.”

He reaches for her shoulder but she shrugs it off. “I’m going home. My home, not yours.”

Harry freezes on the sidewalk. She continues on her way until she disappears around the building. A few students yell out at Harry, making fun of the guy who, from a distance, just got rejected. He flips them off and heads to his car, beating the steering wheel all the way back to his apartment.

***

“You’ve been studying an awful lot lately,” y/n’s dad comments from across the dinner table. “Do you have a big test coming up?”

“Hm?”

“You spend the night with Rayna almost every weekend.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. We have a lot of tests.” Y/n spoons a bite of mashed potatoes into her mouth, thankful neither of her parents went to college. It’s allowed for more stretched lies when she sleeps over at Harry’s. “Like a lot. Every week.”

Her mother hums from her seat, nodding to save her spot in the conversation while she finishes chewing. “We told you how hard it would be. But you wouldn’t listen.”

“That’s not—” “Shelly’s daughter just got a job as a receptionist, over at that dental office by the mattress store.” Her dad points at y/n with his fork. “You could ask her if she knows of any other places looking for a girl.”

“I’m not going to have a job where the requirement is girl.”

“You’re taking this too liberally, dear. Oh Lord, John, that school did just what you said.”

“No—”

“That’s what happens, girls go off to try and get a degree...and what for? What are you going to do when you get married and have kids?”

“Kids!?”

Her mom scoffs. “Well you’re not going to be able to raise children and work.”

“Are you two serious right now? It’s 1985, not fifty-five! Women go to college, they work, some of them don’t even get married! Or have kids!”

“When you were little you couldn’t wait to be a mom. Now all of a sudden you’ve changed your mind. That never would have happened if we hadn’t let you go off to that damn school.”

“Yes I’ve changed my mind! If it hadn’t been for that school, I never would have realized that it’s my own mind to change. It’s my own life to do whatever I want with, not yours.”

“Well I am—” Her dad is interrupted by the door bell echoing outside the kitchen. “One minute. We’re not done with this yet.”

Muffled voices stagger from the front door while y/n pushes the food around her plate. She hopes that whoever is at the door keeps her dad busy for a while. She knows her mom won’t have these types of conversations without him, which just showcases the lifestyle she is adamantly trying to avoid. One that was passed down to her parents, but y/n is determined to squeeze herself out of that narrative no matter what.

“Y/n!” her dad calls, “you have a visitor.”

Y/n peers up at her mom, both women exchanging confused glances before they go see who had arrived.

“Oh,” y/n says dully, “It’s you.”

Harry stands with his hands shoved into jacket pockets, peering at each family member before speaking. “Hey, uh, I was hoping we could talk. Privately.”

Y/n nods, and leads the way back through the kitchen to the back porch. She’s not really in the mood to be talking to him, or having this conversation, but right now he’s a free ticket away from her parents, so she accepts.

They sit halfway down the steps, just like they’ve done a thousand times before. Her on the right, him on the left. Usually his arm is thrown over her shoulder, and their knees bump together until Harry pulls her in so close that not even a breeze could fit between them, but now they’re both collected on their respective sides of the wooden step.

“Heard the new Prince song?”

Y/n rolls her eyes. “It’s been a week.”

“Exactly, a lot’s happened in a week. Prince came out with a new song, Michael Jordan’s rookie of the year, and there’s gonna be a Rocky four.”

“Did you come over to talk about everyone else’s good news?”

Harry sighs. “We’ve never gone a week without talking. Ever.”

“Well you really hurt my feelings.” She turns to look at him, tears welling up in her eyes. “I mean, you don’t even trust me, so you listen in on my phone calls—”

“That’s not—no. I picked up when you did.”

“But you still listened.”

“Okay yeah, but only because I heard my name.” He shrugs, a timid smile playing on his lips. “Wanted to hear what you thought about me.”

“I tell you what I think all the time. I’ve never kept my feelings secret from you.”

“It’s different.” He pulls his hands from his pockets and runs them through his hair, tugging on fistfuls of curls out of frustration. “But then when Caroline said all that, ‘bout me not spending enough time with you, it killed me.”

“That’s what this is about,” she sighs, more to herself than to Harry as the memory of that morning resurfaces in her mind. “You dork, what about what I said back?”

“I hung up. Didn’t wanna hear anything else after that.”

“I told her how wrong she was. How we spend lots of time together.”

“You did?”

“Mhm. She’s always bragging about her and Tony, like they’re the first two people to date ever. I totally rubbed our relationship in her face.”

Harry’s surprised by the gleam on his girlfriend’s face, and tries not to laugh. “What else did you tell her?”

“I dunno.” She shrugs, suddenly shy. “Can’t remember.”

“How convenient.” He nudges her knee with his, and she bumps him back.

Y/n exhales, dipping her head back to squint at the stars peeking out from a cloudy night. “My parents are driving me crazy.”

“They always drive you crazy.”

“Yeah but, more than usual. I got spoiled staying with you on the weekends.”

Harry hums, reaching his arm over to pull her into his side. “Maybe it shouldn’t just be weekends…”

“They would know something’s up if I stayed over on weeknights.”

“No, baby, I mean permanently.”

“Like moving in together?”

“Why not?”

She chews on her lip, trying to keep her smile hidden. “I don’t know...that’s a big deal. It’s a big step.”

“We can think about it. No rush.”

“It would be nice. To see each other whenever we wanted.”

Harry tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Wouldn’t have to ask your parents permission for anything.”

“Yeah…”

“Just me.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, angel.” He kisses her forehead and takes her hand, helping her up.

Y/n’s parents are in the living room when the two are back in the house, and just the thought of continuing her evening here lights a fire under y/n.

“I’m going over to Harry’s,” she announces.

Harry drops her hand, just as surprised as her parents.

“Excuse me?” Her father turns the t.v. off and straightens in his chair. “I don’t think so.”

“Well I think so,” y/n defends. “Come on, Harry.” She takes his hand and tugs him towards the door.

“Harry!” Her mother protests.

He looks over his shoulder just as he’s being led out the door. “Oh, you can call me Rayna.”

#Harry styles requested #Harry styles requests #requests #request #harry styles fic #cherryyharryy #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst to fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

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notnctu · 3 years

Text

haechan: the cocky | vol 1

━ welcome home to housemating smut series :)

☆ click the link above to read background info about this housemate!

☆ GENRE: smut, pwp ☆ DETAILS: fem!reader, college!au, housemate!au ☆ WARNINGS: oral, voyeurism, explicit language ☆ WC: 2,659 ☆ SYNOPSIS: on this sunny afternoon, you’re home alone while everyone else is in class... or so you thought. as haechan’s name spills from your lustful mouth, he mindlessly comes in thinking that you’re calling for him. instead, he walks in to see you fingers deep and in need of some assistance, again.

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: happy halloween everyone!! pls read the background info before proceeding with the fic!! absolutely pwp, there is no real plot here besides smut LOL and yes there will be a part two ! maybe multiple parts idk yet lol depends on my story building

Tossing your backpack into the corner of your room, you pounce on your bed as quickly as possible. There was something about Haechan’s outfit choice today: baggy relaxed pants and an oversized plain white tshirt that only he could pull off. Something about his cool, carefree attitude riles up an inexplicable part of you. And though you didn’t have much time to drool over his incredibly impressive outfit before dashing for your 10 AM, it is all that’s been running through your head.

And truthfully if you had been caught staring for even a millisecond, you wouldn’t hear the end of it from him. You’ve seen this guy go two days straight sitting in his boxers and wrinkled old tee as he yells profanities at his computer monitor. Yet, in some egotistical world, Haechan still manages to be the cockiest person in the whole house.

Haechan has pulled quite a fair share of girls, but nothing in comparison to Jaehyun or Johnny. The reason behind his sly smirks and obvious traveling eyes could possibly be that he’s pulled you, quite a number of times.

Haechan never really peaked your interest until he became the one you spent the most time alone with. He is not the type to boast about his sexual encounters, so you really had to squeeze it out of him. Long talks of his cunnilingus tactics had you wet by the end of it all, not expecting that this gamer boy had such an eager passion for seeing girls squirm from his tongue.

Eager and strong enough passion to ask if he could get a taste of you, then proceeded to bring up all the moments that he has passed by your room to see you sprawled across your bed naked and rubbing one out. You had a poor habit of not closing your door all the way.

However strangely enough, you didn’t feel embarrassed that Haechan was the one who saw you. In fact, if anyone in the house did catch you masturbating, you’d hope it was him. Your relationship is comfortable to the point of seeing the worst sides of each other, you could be your true self around him because he wasn’t some playboy to impress. He is and always will be, Lee Haechan, the boy that sucks at arm wrestling.

So as you check your housemates’ locations and thinking that the coast is clear, you begin to peel off your bottoms and panties. Every naughty thought of Haechan rolls into your lustful mind. Tugging at his fluffy hair. His plushy tongue against your clit. His light spanks against your ass. His needy hands gripping your thighs. His low throaty moans.

You get into your favorite position --- ass up, on your knees and legs spread open, with your face buried in a pillow. Your hand tries to mimic his touch: gently teasing your nipples, trailing down your stomach until you reach your sensitive bud. Your fingers gather your slick and automatically, Haechan’s name escapes your lips. Closing your eyes, you recall all the times he’s eaten you out until you’ve seen stars.

Now if Haechan wasn’t so forgetful, he wouldn’t have to drive all the way back home to grab his notebook for lecture. When the boy enters the house, he takes note of your scattered shoes at the door and the faint sound of your voice. Curiously, he walks up the stairs to the rooms and hears you calling for him and concludes that you probably heard him come home.

When he approaches your slightly opened door, he sees an image that immediately halts him in his tracks. Through the rather large slit, he has the clearest view of your dripping pussy and quick fingers rubbing at your clit. And he registers your calls for moans. You were moaning his name, not calling for him.

He glances around at the other open rooms to check if anyone else is home, but that is probably why you thought it would be completely fine to not close your door, again. When he returns to the incredibly sexy scene of you masturbating to the thought of him, you’re so lost in your own pleasure that you don’t even hear his heavy breathing.

A tent forms in his pants as he feels all his blood rushing to his shaft. He’s beyond turned on, like come on, it’s him you’re thinking about. This does nothing, but fuel his already large ego. Haechan enters your room and clears his throat, “you should really learn to close your door, baby.”

Your momentum breaks at the sheer fear of someone else’s voice. Panic settles and the first thing you see when you look up is Haechan’s small smirk. He leans against the frame of your door, arms crossed and eyes never leaving your figure.

“Why are you home?!” You throw a pillow at him, very well annoyed at his presence and for ruining your private time. Sitting up on your knees, you try covering your lower half with your blanket. Haechan is quick to stop you, while simultaneously shutting your bedroom door.

“I forgot my notebook.” He leans in, lips inches away from yours and his hand pulling the sheets off your body. “I have twenty minutes to spare, so let’s make this quick, mmh? Seems like you’re in need of my assistance... again.” His eyes are dark, and the sunlight that seeps through your shades shines so beautifully against his melanin. The faint smell of his cologne messes with your mind and god, you want him so bad and you hate that he can tell.

“Get back into your previous position and show me how you touch yourself.” He leaves a quick peck on the corners of your lips before standing at the end of your bed.

“What if I don’t want to?” You’re not usually bratty with other partners, but Haechan’s assertiveness and overall aura draws it out of you so naturally.

He pokes his tongue at the inside of his mouth, protruding his cheek and tilts his head at your bratty attitude. Staring you down with hungry eyes and a raised eyebrow, he says in a serious tone, “no time for games right now. You want me or not?”

“Yes, please.” You nod with urgency once you realize that Haechan still had class to get to. Turning back around, you rest comfortably on your elbows with your knees firm on the mattress. Your hand travels down to circle your clit again, resuming your previous lustful actions before Haechan interrupted you.

Every jolt runs down your legs as a pumping surge of electricity, all the way down to your toes. Haechan palms himself watching you get back into the mood, biting his bottom lip at the delicious sight of your glistening, pretty pussy on display for him. It doesn’t take much before he hurries to get under you and in between your legs.

He lays back flat on the bed as you hover over him, your hand still rubbing intensively at your bud and your juices collecting in your palm. Taking your wrist, he guides your wet fingers into his mouth. You moan knowing your fingers are being cleaned by Haechan, him sucking your taste off of you.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He groans, bringing your hips closer to his face. Without another second of hesitation, he licks a long strip across your clit.

“Hyuck..” It has been established between the two of you that you have special rights to use his government name. He loves how hot it sounds coming from you, like it is meant to be spoken only by you. “..I’m.. already.. going to burst.”

He kisses your inner thighs, then encapsulates your bud in his mouth. Your legs give out at the mind blowing pleasure that comes with Haechan’s plushy licks. His tongue doesn’t leave your clit for more than a second, suckling and rubbing it like his life depended on it.

When you peer down at him, his face is entirely pressed up against your body: nose digging into your skin and mouth latching on for a taste. He gives your ass a little spank, then grabbing a handful to squeeze. The tinge of pain turns into pleasure as the feeling of static runs throughout your lower half.

Haechan tries to free himself from his pants, growing painfully hard that it began to feel strained. One hand unzips and tugs down hastily at his bottoms, his cock springing up and slapping against his stomach. He lifts his shirt up as far as it can go, not once breaking his attention on making you feel good.

You yelp when his two fingers enter your hole abruptly, gathering enough of your slick to cover his own dick. With your wetness, he strokes his tip with his thumb and the vibrations from his moans sends shivers down your spine. But Haechan is more than skilled at multitasking, jerking himself off while he eats you out.

“Fuck, are you touching yourself?” Your head turns enough to see movement in your peripheral vision. You can infer two things: Haechan is half naked and fucking his hand so fast that it shakes the bed a bit.

“Of course I am. You’re fucking hot, baby.” He only pulls away briefly to speak, his soft tongue flicking rapidly harder against you now. Haechan knows you’re close, without you needing to say much. Your toes curl at the intensity, your moans become louder, and you’re gripping onto his hair as tightly as possible.

The peak of your mountain is at the tip of your lips, your legs are about to give out at any moment, but Haechan is showing no mercy to slow down. “Just like that, shit.” Your hips mindlessly grind with his fast-paced rhythm.

Haechan can feel his own release coming just as quick, his own grip growing tighter around his shaft as his hips have no caution to stop. “Give it to me, (Y/N).” His low grunts solely push you to your edge, as you announce your orgasm.

Your shaking legs uncontrollably twitch around his head as the euphoric feeling fills your blood stream. Like a knot coming undone, it’s the most rewarding feeling you’ve ever felt. You try to catch your breath as Haechan unlatches from your swollen clit, and his moans replace yours.

“(Y/N),” He barely manages to speak and you look down in between your legs to see him biting his bottom lip hard and eyes closed. “--I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk... when I get back..” and with that, he cums all over his lower stomach, short strings of white landing across his body.

You roll off of him, grabbing tissues from your nightstand to clean him up. “Are you still going to make it?” A hoarse laugh rumbles your chest as Haechan remembers the lecture he has to attend.

“I’ll just show up late.” Wiping the last bit off of him, he gets up to hurriedly zip himself up. “Why are you suddenly so needy?” He jokes, partially. A smug grin appears reminding you of his haughty personality.

You scoff at his remark, “I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“Yeah, but why do that when I clearly give you the best orgasms of your life.” He shrugs, his tone being quite matter of fact. He chuckles mischievously at your displeased expression, running out your room before you can chase him out.

“Okay, I’m leaving!” He yells from the hall, hurrying down the stairs to catch the last half of his lecture.

“Bye, thank you... I guess..” You pull your panties up, your voice trailing off when you step out of your room to the top of the stairs to watch him leave.

He stops to peer up at your obvious fucked out appearance, admiring you all in your glory. “Any time, baby. What are housemates for?” Haechan winks flirtatiously before he shuts the front door.

The rhetorical question repeats in your head, what are housemates for?

As everyone floods back home later in the day, you and Haechan act as if nothing happened. That’s the thing about you two, Haechan never really feels the need to brag to the others, only if provoked.

You two can live in this house with the other three not expecting a single thing, not knowing that there is courage behind Haechan’s bold statements. Not even the way Haechan stares at you sometimes can give anything away. This man is too slick, too quick on his feet to ever be caught.

“You make it to all your classes today, Haechan?” Johnny asks as the three of you devour the dinner Doyoung made, Jaemin once again not being home.

“Yes, dad.” Haechan answers sarcastically and stuffs his mouth full of dinner rolls. “I had a midterm that I totally aced.” He smiles proudly, but your ears catch onto the first half of his sentence and immediate guilt settles.

“You had a midterm?” The tone of your question raises a few eyebrows at the table, the rest of the boys wondering why you sounded so worried.

Nevertheless, Haechan doesn’t lose his cool. He simply bids you his sugary sweet smile and says, “not for that one.”

“No flirty eyes at the table.” Doyoung scowls as Haechan’s corner lip twitches into another infamous smirk. He somewhat enjoys the thrill of almost getting caught, you make it all too easy for the others to find out.

You gulp your food harshly and shy away from Haechan’s dark gaze, not knowing the right words to recover your slip up. Jaehyun acknowledges the confusion in the room, laughing nervously at your sudden bashfulness, “why did (Y/N) sound so worried?”

Your food gets stuck in your throat, waiting to hear what Haechan has to say to your nosy housemates. “I had to come home to grab my notebook and missed the beginning of class. She’s just looking out for me, it’s cute.”

And your eyes make the most dramatic roll, “I should’ve just let you to suffer the consequences.”

“But you’re a good girl.” Haechan barely lets you finish, his sharp-witted tongue almost cutting you off.

“(Y/N) is the best girl.” Johnny ruffles your hair and picks up your chin, being oblivious to the sexual tension between you and Haechan. “Now, did my best girl go to all her classes today?”

You push his large hand off of you, grumbling lowly, “yes, Johnny.” Mindful to not say dad as it would steer him with too much satisfaction, “unlike you delinquents, I actually go to class and stay for the whole thing.”

“I do too.” Doyoung bickers.

In response, you pinch his cheek harshly. “I know and I’m always proud of you, my bunny.”

Haechan clears his throat obnoxiously, “I’m going to play games, hop on when you all are done.” He takes a few more dinner rolls as he starts heading up the stairs with his plate of food.

“Can’t, I have someone coming over in a few.” Jaehyun stuffs his cheeks full of deliciousness.

“Me too.” Johnny chimes and you’re repulsed that more than half of the house is going to be having sex at the same time.

“In that case, that is my cue to leave and put on noise canceling headphones.” Doyoung gathers his plate to rush out of the scene.

Jaehyun and Johnny finish their dinners at an impressive speed, “don’t be too loud, Haechan!” Johnny loudly proclaims and though you can’t see Haechan’s face, you can imagine his devilish smile through the cadence of his voice.

“Oh, trust me. I won’t be the loud one tonight.” Your phone lights up from incoming texts. As your eyes register the messages, you almost choke on your food at the implications.

housemate haechan: come to my room when you’re done

housemate haechan: and don’t expect to walk tomorrow:)

And you’re finishing your dinner as fast as everyone else is, shamefully excited to make your way upstairs.

What are housemates for?

#neowritingsnet #nct-writers #kpopscape #neothestars #nct scenarios #nct smut #haechan #lee haechan #haechan smut #nct imagines

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elleseekswritingpartners · 3 months

Text

searching for Jujutsu Kaisen writing partners (updated, never expires)

MDNI. Elle. 20+. GMT. discord/tumblr/docs. I'm a long-term roleplayer and I will literally send you memes and HCs and create Pinterest boards and google docs one hour after we start talking because I'm both stupid and unhinged.

i'm show-based and not too stressed about keeping things canon. i honestly don't even understand half of the lore, so if you want to get technical / heavily explore worldbuilding and lore i'm not your girl lmfao i just love the concept of jjk and characters and i don't feel inclined to dive deeper than that - but i do want plots in the jjk word, not aus.

what i want to write:

satoru gojo* x utahime lori satoru gojo* x f!oc megumi fushiguro* x f!oc or nobara kento nanami x f!oc* kento nanami x shoko leiri shoko leiri x m!oc hiromi higuruma x f!oc hiromi higuruma x shoko leiri (idk how but i think it'd be interesting) toji fushiguro x f!oc

im also open to: suguru geto x shoko leiri suguru geto x f!oc

suguru geto x satoru gojo but only if you're a chill person. i love the dynamic and would like to give it a go, but i'm not comfortable writing popular ships and i don't want to stress myself.

[more abt me + rules under the cut, for accessibility reasons]

about me + rules:

i'm 25+ years old. i only want to interact with people who are 20+. this is non negotiable. i enjoy the occasional nsfw hc and drabble but i don't expect to write a lot of smut, i just don't want to write with people who are underaged.

i have 15 years of writing experience, however, it's ok to me if you're new to roleplaying - we all start somewhere.

i don’t have trigger warnings and enjoy writing potentially triggering topics like manipulation and memory loss etc, but lets always be respectful.

i love to plot and brainstorm. if you tell me "whatever works for you" "i can do whatever you want" and give me nothing to work with, i'll stop replying.

i usually write 3 or 4 solid paragraphs but i don't care about the length of your replies as long as you give me stuff to work with. i think writing extremely lengthy replies can actually be a disservice to certain scenes because you end up with a ton of paragraphs each focusing on its own thing and it gets confusing. i don't know why people equate length with quality. keeping things short is good sometimes.

for me, ships are the priority, brotps are the VERY welcome bonus.

i'm NOT interested in only having one plot/ship with my writing partner.

i actually enjoy writing both men and women and i expect my partners to as well. it's blatant when someone is forcing themselves to write a character they don't want to write. pls don't put me through this lol, if you do i'll stop replying.

my philosophy is to look at the world that is provided to us and turning it into our playground, changing things however we see fit. if you care intensely about keeping things canon and getting every detail about events and character’s personalities right, we won’t be compatible.

it’s important to me to approach plots and characters with realism (if you’re someone who doesn’t look forward to the possible character growth/development coming from the disagreements in a ship, i’m not your girl), but i WILL conjugate that realism with more gringy elements (like love triangles, pinning, and accidental pregnancies) because i believe life is too short to completely deprive ourselves from it.

i’ve a very devoted roleplay partner. i know life gets busy but i’m someone who loves to share hcs and brainstorm and make pinterest boards. i don’t expect fast replies but unless my partner lets me know they’re going to be inactive, if i don’t have any sort of interaction with them for over a week (this can be something as simple as pinning something to our pinterest boards), i do feel a bit like shit.

ty for reading!! don't forget to say hi if you're interested. ✨

#hiromi higuruma #nanami kento #jjk kento #gojo satoru #utahime iori #shoko ieiri #toji fushiguro #discord roleplay #discord rp #jjk discord rp #jjk rp #jujutsu kaisen rp #animanga rp #hiromi jjk

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yelena-bellova · 3 years

Text

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

chapter three - Chapter Four: Madripoor - chapter five

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n, Sam and Bucky pay an eventful visit to Helmut Zemo in Berlin, heading to Madripoor soon after to get answers about the serum.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: spoilers for episode.3, angst, violence, description of injuries, a few crumbs for the slow burn, breaking the law and looking good doing it

A/N: These chapters always end up being so long lol. I was going to include the nightclub scene but it would’ve made it too long so sorry, it’ll have to wait a few more days. Forgive my shitty Russian translations, I’m on Google Translate and that’s not saying a lot.

----

“Not that it makes a difference, but I still don’t like this.” I’d voiced my displeasure about meeting with Zemo several times since we’d arrived in Germany. Even though we were already being led through the high security Berlin prison hallways, I still felt the urge to state my opinion.

The guard that was guiding us gestured towards a door, “He’s just through the corridor.”

“Give us a sec,” Bucky said, the three of us coming to a halt in the middle of the hall. “I’m gonna go in alone.” “Why?” Sam asked.

“You’re an Avenger, you know how he feels about that,” Bucky looked to me, “You, I’m trying to keep as far away from him as possible.”

“It’s not like you two were known for frolickin’ in the sun together,” Sam remarked.

“I’m gonna say it again,” I took an assertive step forward, “I don’t like this.”

“He was obsessed with HYDRA,” Bucky pushed, “We have a history together. Trust me, I got it.”

Taking my cue from Sam, who didn’t fight him any more, I nervously watched Bucky stalk down the hallway to the corridor that led to our possible next step.

“Is he really okay?” I asked, watching Bucky’s figure until he disappeared, “I feel like we’re going a little too far with this.” “He’s invested, which means he’s desperate,” Sam answered, leaning his back against the wall, “This is a little too much though.”

I copied his posture and we stood in silence, the occasional guard passing by. “What happened last night after I left the room? C’mon, you come out crying and you thought I was gonna let it go?” “Bucky and I were just…” I sighed, remembering the change that had happened between our two conversations, “Learning to get along. I told him about Steve, that’s never fun to relive.” “Ah,” Sam nodded, “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?” “You’re not mad at me that I gave up the shield, are you?”

My brows knitted together as I looked over at him, “Why would I be mad? Your decision wouldn’t have changed even if I was, would it?” “No, it wouldn’t have. But you were close to Steve too, you care about his legacy,” he went on, “We’re all angry about Walker. I don’t care if Bucky’s upset at me, but I always care if you are.” “Someone ever tell you you care too much sometimes?” I playfully nudged his sneaker with my own, “Of course I’m not mad, you know I support you no matter what. You made the right decision for you and you have nothing to apologize for. Bucky and even Steve don’t need to understand why you chose to give it up. Would it have been cool to say that my brother is Captain America?” I coaxed a laugh out of him, “Of course, but it doesn’t change how I see you. I’m just proud to say my brother is Sam Wilson.” He poked me with his elbow and smiled, “Now I remember why I keep you around.” “Y/n Y/l/n, Falcon’s Ego Booster.” We were sharing a laugh when Bucky came back around the corner. “That was quick,” I observed. He’d been in there five minutes tops.

“We’ve got our next stop.”

————

“What are you talking about? You wanna break Zemo outta jail?” Sam questioned in the dark, “Where are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?”

“We have no leads, no moves, nothing,” Bucky replied, shining his flashlight around to try and find the power switch. I couldn’t clearly make out where he had brought us to, he’d brought us through the back door of the building. “So because we’ve hit one dead end, you want to spring one of the most dangerous men in the world out of prison?” I asked, shining my flashlight at Bucky causing him to throw a hand up to shield his eyes, “Bucky, I don’t-“ “Like this,” he finished, “I got that, but we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on the loose.” “Zemo’s gonna miss with our minds, especially yours,” Sam interjected, “No offense.” I made out Bucky’s silhouette reaching up a beam, a loud click of a switch and the lights began to turn on. “Offense,” he scowled.

With the lights on, we could finally see that we were in an auto shop. I was glad to be out of the prison but I wasn’t seeing the correlation between it and freeing Zemo.

“Super Soldiers go against everything he believes in,” Bucky continued, “He is crazy, but he still has a code.” “I’ve been on the wrong side of that code and so have you,” Sam countered, I’d heard in detail about the havoc Zemo had caused and the ramifications of his actions had caused Sam and Steve to become fugitives. Never mind what he’d done to Bucky…”He blew up the UN, he killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans forgot about it? It’s a rhetorical question, they didn’t. I know why this matters to you, but it’s pushing you off the deep end.”

Bucky stood in front of us now, “We don’t know how they’re gettin’ the serum. We don’t even know how many of them there are,” Sam turned his back in frustration, “Look, let me just walk you two through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

“What did you do?” Sam asked suspiciously, turning halfway to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“I didn’t…” Bucky’s looked away briefly, “Do anything.”

“Then by all means,” I leaned up against a beam and crossed my arms, not believing him at all, “Let’s ride the hypothetical train.” Bucky frowned at my sarcasm before launching into it, “The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element. Now, in this lockup, it’s nine to one, prisoners to guards. And if two prisoners start fighting, then the protocol says four guards have to respond.” “So why would two prisoners randomly start fighting at that moment?” Sam asked.

“Who knows? There could be many reasons…But the point is, these things escalate. Lockdown procedures would have to be initiated and with all those bodies flying around left and right, wouldn’t be hard to slip down a hallway or two. And if the fire alarm got tripped while the prisoners were being separated, someone could use the chaos to their advantage.”

“My gut is sounding off every alarm it has right now,” I commented from my place across from Bucky.

“Yeah, I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this, this is unnatural,” Sam replied finally, “Are you- and where are we, man?” A nearby door closing caused us to turn our attention towards it, a silhouette appearing soon after through a curtain. The shadow became a man and walked through the cloth divider wearing the face I’d had etched in my brain since the day it hit the news.

“You son of a bitch,” I mumbled, creating a ball of energy quickly with my hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sam’s voice rose, walking with me towards the man, “What are you doin’ here?” Bucky was quick to throw himself in front of us, “No, listen. I didn’t want to tell you ‘cause I knew neither of you would let this happen.” “What the hell did you do?” I exclaimed.

“We need him,” Bucky said. Sam pointed to Zemo, “You’re going back to prison!”

“If I may,” the Sokovian man began, removing the hat of his stolen prison guard uniform.

“NO!” the three of us yelled at the same time. He hung his head, “Apologies…” Bucky turned back to Sam, “When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for me,” when Sam averted his gaze, Bucky chased it, “I’m asking you to do it again.”

“And what about her?” Sam gestured to me and the ball of energy I still had formed in my palms, “What happens when she breaks the law?” Bucky’s pleading eyes drifted to me, “He’s our only shot at getting any answers.” My mind was wrestling with itself, his rightness was inevitably going to come at a cost we would all have to pay. On a technicality, yes, I could plead innocent to freeing Zemo. A coconspirator charge, I wouldn’t be so lucky with. But stopping the Flag Smashers meant saving lives and that wasn’t something I could walk away from. I deformed the energy in my hands in cautious surrender, “I’m already breakin’ the law by going against the accords, I need to make it worth it at least.” Sam shot me an exasperated glance, but he didn’t fight me.

“I really think I’m invaluable…” Zemo began from his corner.

“Shut up…” Sam warned, effectively shutting him up. Sam thought it all over for a second before pressing his flashlight to Bucky’s chest, “Okay. If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission.” Zemo shrugged, “Fair.”

The three of us shared an uneasy look, there was no going back now. “Okay, Zemo, where do we start?”

“Follow me,” he smiled, leading the way out of the auto shop and expecting us to follow. Sam went first, eager to keep his eye on Zemo at all times while Bucky and I brought up the rear.

“I didn’t want to have to go this route,” he said from beside me as if he owed me some explanation for his actions. I sighed, trying to shut off the part of my brain that was screaming at me, “Just be right.”

We maneuvered through a few corridors until we hit a room filled with beautiful antique cars. “So our first move is grand theft auto?” Sam asked. “These are mine,” Zemo corrected, “Collected by family over the generations. I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it’s out there, someone can create an army of people…like the Avengers,” he dug through one of the cars to pull out a bag and coat, “I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished.” My eyes unavoidably flickered to Bucky, observing his reaction to hearing his old code name. He simply watched the man continue speaking. “To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes.”

“Well, join the party. We’ve already started…” Sam commented.

“First stop is a woman named Selby,” Zemo stated as he headed for the exit, “Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb.”

Sam, Bucky and I left a gaping distance between us and him, we were still highly suspicious and I had a feeling we would be until our temporary partnership came to an end.

————

Zemo had gotten word to somebody that we’d be meeting them at a private airport in Berlin and flying to someplace called Madripoor. Somehow we’d made the journey without being recognized, even those of us who were wanted across the globe. “So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam asked as we made our way towards the private plane.

“I’m a Baron, Sam,” Zemo answered, “My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country.”

Zemo greeted the man standing outside the plane, who was dressed like a butler, in Sokovian. “Well,” I crossed my arms and watched one of the world’s most dangerous men exchange cheek kisses, “If we’re going to work with a criminal, at least we picked one that comes with transportation.” “Please,” Zemo said, gesturing for us to follow him up the plane’s steps. Sam awkwardly bowed to the butler and headed up. Bucky extended a hand towards the jet for me to go ahead of him before following closely behind.

When we filed into the plane, Sam and Zemo were already seated. I moved to take the chair across from the baron, wanting to keep as close an eye on him as I could. Bucky’s flesh arm reached out quickly and grabbed my shoulder, I turned to question him and met his wary expression. “Sit with Sam,” he muttered quietly, our faces close enough that I could feel his breath as he’d spoken. It dawned on me that he wanted me to have the safer position. I answered with a nod, maneuvering around him to sit across from Sam. Even though his hand had left my arm, I could still feel its print through my jacket.

We had been flying for maybe twenty minutes when Zemo’s butler, Oeznik, came in carrying a glass of champagne for Zemo and offering to whip up some food. It astounded me how to the world, he was evil yet to his servants, he was a joy. “You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell,” the baron said before looking over at my brother, “Oh, that’s right. You do.”

Sam bypassed the jab remarkably, “Why don’t you tell us about where we’re going?”

“I’m sorry, I was just fascinated by this,” Zemo held up a book, “I don’t know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?”

Not two seconds after the name had left his lips, Bucky out of his seat with his metal hand wrapped around Zemo’s neck. My heart stopped as I watched him lean over the man threateningly. “If you touch that book again,” he growled, “I’ll kill you.” This was a side of Bucky I had yet to see, the one that straddled the line between his dark past and his true self. As he sat back down, tucking the book in his pocket and refusing to meet my eyes, I could tell he wasn’t pleased with how he’d acted. I wasn’t in a place to criticize but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been slightly worried when his fingers hit Zemo’s skin.

“I’m sorry,” Zemo said, “I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” “Don’t push it,” Bucky rasped, collecting himself after the scene.

“I’ve seen that book,” Sam spoke up, “It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man, he wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?” “I like ’40’s music,” Bucky shrugged and looked out the window, “So…” “You didn’t like it?” Sam exclaimed.

“I liked it,” Bucky replied unconvincingly.

“It is a masterpiece, James,” Zemo chimed in, his hands forming a triangle, “Complete, comprehensive…It captures the African-American experience.” While my brows raised at the European’s surprising education, Sam’s furrowed. “He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great, everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

Bucky shook his head, “I like Marvin Gaye.” “Steve adored Marvin Gaye.” “He did,” I chuckled, reminiscing back to only last year, “Played him almost anytime I got in a car with him.” “You must have really looked up to Steve,” Zemo said, “But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America’s Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals.” “Watch your step, Zemo…” Sam warned. “They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there,” he shrugged, “Cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought,” Zemo turned his attention to Bucky, “You remember that, right?” As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? That is why we’re going to Madripoor.” “What’s up with Madripoor?” Sam looked between the two men, “You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago,” Bucky grumbled, “It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” “It’s kept its lawless ways, but we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves,” Zemo’s unsettling eyes moved back to Bucky, “James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”

With the way Bucky’s expression had changed in mere seconds from complacent to tortured, it didn’t take long to decode what Zemo was insinuating. “No,” I blurted out, “That’s not fair to ask of him.” “I admire your devotion, Y/n,” Zemo complimented with his lips to his champagne flute, taking a quick sip, “But you know nothing of how Madripoor works. If you want to get to Selby, we must have protection. More than that, we must have leverage. James can provide us both by simply playing a part.” “Devo-?” I shook my head, sidestepping Zemo’s comment, “That’s not playing a part, that’s like reliving every nightmare you’ve ever had. I-it’s like-“ “Y/n,” I turned to see Bucky’s chair rotated towards me, looking helpless and determined all at once, “We need in.” “Yeah, but…” I started to protested before seeing his eyes, those ocean blue eyes I was growing to feel comforted by begging me to let the subject go. I clenched my own y/e/c ones shut in frustration, “Okay.” “Now that that’s settled,” Zemo stood from his seat, “I will find us something to change into, we will need to blend in where we’re going.” ——

The silver dress Zemo had chosen for me was…it made me wonder just what kind of scene we were planning to enter. It was more revealing than anything I typically wore, but gorgeous nonetheless and fit perfectly.

As I was finishing my makeup in the bathroom of the plane, I had to take a second to steel myself for what was to come. This wasn’t just dallying with Super Soldiers any more, this was dancing with the criminal underworld. Zemo hadn’t told us yet the roles we were playing, only that we needed to stay in character at all cost. I had never felt more out of my depth, but had no choice but to rise to the occasion. Giving myself one last check in the mirror, I unlocked and exited the bathroom.

“Okay, I hope whoever I’m playing is bad with heels,” I held up the elaborate shoes Zemo had matched to my dress, “Because there’s no way I’m going to be graceful in these.” Sam looked up from tying his dress shoes, dressed in a maroon suit patterned with yellow circles. His eyes scanned my outfit unapprovingly. “Uh uh,” he protested, going full protective big brother, “Nope. It shows too much.” “It doesn’t matter what it shows,” I said, bending over to strap on the shoes, “It’s what I’ve got.” “She’s right,” Zemo chimed in, putting his jacket on, “You two are supposed to be rich, glamorous travelers of the world. You need to look the part,” he nodded towards me, “You wear it well.” I politely smiled at the baron and looked up to Bucky, perched in the far corner of the jet. His gaze was fixed on me, eyes quickly traveling down my body before quickly locking with mine. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his plush lips parted ever so slightly. I found myself just as drawn into him as he seemed to be with me, for a few seconds it was just the two of us shutting our surroundings out. It was…something. “You look nice,” Bucky finally said, his voice slightly strained.

My lips quirked upwards, “Thanks.” “It is time for us to leave,” Zemo announced, bursting the bubble Bucky and I had built, “You’d better get used to those shoes quickly, we’ll be making most of the journey by foot.” He hadn’t been lying. We departed the runway and walked our way towards the city. Madripoor looked beautiful on the outside, the high-rise buildings lit up in all different colors emitting a glow across the waters.

“We have to do something about this,” Sam finally exclaimed, holding the lapels of his patterned maroon suit, “I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.” “If you’re a pimp, what does that make me?” I gestured to the amount of skin I had on display, “Suck it up, Wilson.” “Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp,” Zemo added as we crossed the large bridge leading to the city, “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” Sam took Zemo’s phone from his outstretched hand, “He even has a bad nickname.”

I leaned over to look at the picture of Sam’s doppelgänger, “Hey, be nice. That’s your twin you’re talking about.” “And you,” Zemo addressed me, “Conrad is known for entertaining beautiful women, one after the other,” he ignored the faces of disgust Sam and I made at the thought of acting as a couple, “You will be playing tonight’s date, no need to come up with a name or a story as his dates are typically just arm candy.”

“So I’m supposed to just sit and look pretty?” I side eyed Zemo in annoyance, “Great.” “You smell this?” he asked the group.

“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam asked.

“Madripoor,” Zemo answered, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error. High Town’s that way,” Zemo pointed towards the part of the city I’d been admiring, “Not a bad place if you want to visit, but Low Town’s the other way.” We approached a car waiting for us at the end of the bridge, ready to take us into the darkest part of the city. Bucky, who had remained silent since the plane, climbed into the backseat first while Zemo took the passenger’s side. “Let me guess,” Sam remarked as we moved to get in the car, “We don’t have any friends in High Town.”

“I’m guessing not,” I muttered, ducking into the back seat and sliding till I was pressed against Bucky. He didn’t make a sound, he barely even registered my presence. I was about to ask him if he was alright when I realized what he was doing. We all had our roles to play and Bucky was doing just that.

Sam climbed in next to me and we took off, me sandwiched between the two men trying to convince myself that I could do this. I could pretend to be someone I wasn’t to get answers, but my nerves was convincing me I was going to mess it up for us. No margin for error, Zemo’s words bounced around in my brain. He’d said our lives depended on it. They depended on whether or not I could keep it together. Sam must have sensed my anxiety because I felt his palm slide against my clammy one and squeeze. I sent a shaky one back, taking what comfort I could that I didn’t have to do this alone.

We were escorted in by a motorcade till we got to the seedier part of the city, the bridge we parked under painted with graffiti. Sam helped me out of the car and Zemo took our group through the back way into the city. As we crossed the overhead bridge, looking down into the city, I began to feel like my life had suddenly become some fever dream. Even more so once we entered the city and I was surrounded by people from all walks of life. Smugglers were making deals, guards were stationed outside buildings with machine guns, forgers were trying to sell to people. It was like nothing I’d ever seen. Sam kept me on his arm the entire time, selling our characters while still retaining his protective nature. We followed Zemo into a crowded bar, weaving our way through. “Here we are,” he announced quietly, our fellow patrons took notice as soon as they caught sight of Bucky, “Gotov podchinit'sya, zimniy soldat?” (Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?)

I tried my best to keep my face neutral, though an unwelcome chill went down my spine as Zemo began his act. It was wrong. It wasn’t fair to Bucky or his recovery to make him do this.

We approached the bar and the bartender came over immediately, “Hello, gentlemen. Ma’am. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” “His plans changed,” Zemo explained, “We have business to do with Selby.”

The bartender looked over suspiciously at Sam, “The usual?” Sam nodded casually in response and the man walked away to begin prepping the drink. What took us by surprise was when he reached for a jar containing a dead snake rather than the bottle of alcohol. He proceeded to lay the reptile on a cutting board and slice its stomach open, I looked up to Sam who was doing his best to keep his composure. “Ah, Smiling Tiger,” Zemo jeered, “Your favorite.”

The bartender removed a piece of the snake’s guts and sunk it into a shot glass filled with vodka. I covered my mouth with my clutch to conceal my delight at the sight I was about to behold. Sam caught the action and addressed the bartender, “You know what? She’ll have one too.” “Oh, no, I don’t think so,” I quickly protested, waving it off as if it were a shot of tequila and not an animal intestine.

“No, girl, I insist,” Sam grinned phonily at me.

“They actually upset my stomach,” I giggled, glancing to the bartender, “Can’t hold my liquor to save my life, I’ll be up all night sick if it touches my lips. But you enjoy, sweetheart.” The bartender didn’t pay much attention to the exchange as he set the shot glass in front of Sam, who looked unconvincingly between the glass and Zemo. “I love these,” he stated, holding it up for us all to see.

“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo clinked his glass against Sam’s.

Sam made several, hopefully convincing, noises of excitement about his drink. After giving it one last look, he shot it straight down, holding a thumbs up to the bartender afterwards.

“How badly are you trying not to throw up right now?” I whispered after the man had left.

“I can’t even hear you right now,” Sam replied in a strained voice, focusing on keeping the drink where it needed to be. An intimidating bearded man made us all turn around, he looked to Zemo. “I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

Zemo, ever the cool and collected presence, turned to the man. “I have no business with the Power Broker. But if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo gestured to Bucky, standing at his side.

“New haircut?” the man asked Bucky, who stayed silent.

“Or bring Selby for a chat,” Zemo finished.

The man left, leaving us with questions. “A power broker?” Bucky grumbled, “Really?” “Every kingdom needs its king,” Zemo replied, “Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?” Sam inconspicuously asked. “Only be reputation the baron answered, “In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.”

I spotted another man approaching us, this one walking with a purpose. Zemo looked to Bucky, the show was about to start. “Zimniy Soldat,” Bucky nodded once, “Attask.” (Winter Soldier, attack.) As soon as the stranger thumped Zemo’s shoulder, Bucky sprang to action, his metal hand grabbing and twisting the man’s arm. He pushed him to the center of the room where he proceeded to twist it further before dropping him to the ground. The groans coming from him were sickening as he lay helpless, clutching his most likely broken arm. As another patron came up to attack, Bucky moved fast to disarm him before power kicking him into a table several times. I clung to Sam’s arm even tighter as Zemo shoved someone forward for Bucky to punch, sending him sliding across the floor.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo slyly observed, from my side. It took everything in me not to send him flying across the room right then. He was enjoying this.

When Bucky lifted a man by his throat and slammed him down on the bar was when guns all over the bar were cocked. Sam grabbed onto Bucky’s metal arm, ready to pull him back to us and to reality. “Stay in character,” Zemo whispered, dead serious, “Or the whole bar turns on us.” Sam dropped his arm as Zemo leaned into Bucky, “Molodets, soldat.” (Well done, soldier.)

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender said, watching the scene in awe. Bucky slowly let the man go, gasping and groaning for air once he was freed. Sam looked over warily, “You good?” When Bucky faced us, his eyes met mine before they met Sam’s. I wished I could have concealed my reaction better for his sake, but the second he had attacked was the first time since we’d met that I’d been properly scared of him. It made the incident on the plane look like nothing. My mind knew he was just acting, pretending to be someone he once was for the sake of furthering our mission. But my blood ran just as cold with fear as it would have if the Winter Soldier was standing in front of me. Bucky’s eyes now were watery, filled with pain that he’d worked hard with his therapist to get through, now being brought back to life. Had the bar not been watching and had I not needed to stick with Sam, I’d have been at his side trying to make sure he was alright. Instead, I could only watch as he sniffled, nodded to Sam and followed Zemo to wherever we were going next.

We were escorted upstairs through a series of hallways with a heavily armed guard following us. A white haired woman sat in the middle of the room we were led to, tapping her fingers against the couch she lounged on. “You should know, Baron, people don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Zemo smiled, “Not a demand. An offer.”

Sam and I took our places standing next to Selby, Bucky stood watch across from us, back in his act.

“A lot has changed since you were here last,” Selby spared a look at Bucky, “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo shrugged, “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

Selby pointed a blind finger towards Sam, “You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger,” she eyed Sam suggestively and gave him a purr before turning her attention to me, “And what a lovely little dish you’ve got with you.” Internally I was struggling to stay calm and had never felt more exposed with the thin materiel of the dress over my body. “What’s the offer?” Selby grinned at Zemo.

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum,” Zemo replied, rising from his seat to circle Bucky, “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want,” Zemo rubbed Bucky’s chin, playing with it to provoke him but knowing he could get away with it. I felt sick to my stomach.

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember,” Selby approved, “I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but…things didn’t go as planned.”

I squeezed Sam’s arm, we were getting answers. The crazy, chaotic plan was actually working. “Is Nagal still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked.

“Oh, the bread crumbs you can have for free,” Selby’s flirtatious demeanor shifted as she stood to business-like, “But the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.”

A sudden vibration tickled my arm from Sam’s suit pocket, it was his cell phone. He pulled it out hesitantly and looked down at it, I glanced over to see that it was Sarah calling.

“Answer it,” Selby ordered, Bucky had moved behind her to give us protection if need be, “On speaker.” The armed bodyguards moved in closer, it was clear we had no say in the matter. Sam unlocked his phone and pressed the speaker button, “Hello?” “Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation,” Sarah’s voice filled the air, sending an all too brief wave of peace through me, “It’s been drivin’ me nuts.”

“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?” Sam replied stiffly. “Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.”

“What situation, Sarah?” Sam’s voice grew louder, “Say it.”

“The damn boat,” Sarah replied just as hard, “And watch your tone, okay? I let you slide at the bank.”

Sarah. The boat. Home. And here I was standing in a designer dress meeting with Indonesian crime bosses. Two unbelievable worlds were colliding on the call.

Sam scoffed and nervously chuckling, “Yeah, the bank. Laundered so much, yeah, they’ll come around.” “If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?”

“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see,” Sam paused menacingly, “When I have that banker killed.”

We almost had Selby convinced as I watched her pace around the room, we were so close to- “Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this!” Sarah yelled, “Sam, I’m sorry. Let me call you back, and make sure Y/n is with you too.” “Sam? Y/n?” Selby echoed the names, “Who are you? Kill them!”

A second after she had given the order, a bullet shot through the nearby window and struck her chest fatally. The four of us sprung to action, Sam landing punches on the guard stationed behind us while I used my energy to pull the machine gun from his grasp. Across from us, Bucky took care of the other guard. I handed the weapon to Sam and we took our positions in the back of the room, ready to retaliate against the hidden assassin. “They’re gonna pin this on us,” Sam panted, our backs against the wall.

“We have a real problem now,” Zemo said, unbelievably calm for someone in our situation, “So leave your weapons and follow my lead.” Bucky ripped the lock on the back door and the four of us filed down the staircase quick as we could. It dropped us back off in the middle of the city, we hurriedly made our way down the street where all heads were turning to us. “This is not good,” Zemo hurried. The words hung in the air for a grand total of five seconds before bullets started to rain down around us. Bucky, Sam and I tore down the street where in the chaos, Zemo took off in another direction.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yelled over the gunfire. “Oh, I don’t wanna hear it,” I exclaimed, struggling to keep up with them in my stilettos, “Screw it!”

I threw my hands out to my side and lifted off the ground, keeping low enough to dodge any shots but stay close to Sam and Bucky. Two motorcycles sped after us promising more bounty hunters, Zemo caught up with us and killed two lone gunmen hiding behind a dumpster. Two perfectly aimed bullets came out of nowhere and lodged themselves in the heads of the cyclists chasing us.

“You seem to have a guardian angel,” Zemo observed as the three of us looked around for our savior.

“Well, this is too perfect,” a woman’s voice said, she appeared seconds later drawing back her hood and pointing a gun toward us, “Drop it, Zemo.”

Bucky stepped forward disbelievingly, “Sharon?” Sharon Carter. I recognized her only from the pictures I’d seen of her on the news when the shitstorm that branded her an enemy of the state went down. As she strode forward, ready to strike down the man responsible, I couldn’t say with certainty if she was an ally or not. “You cost me everything,” she seethed.

“Sharon, wait,” Sam, ever the steady presence, held a hand out and carefully came towards her, “Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” “Well, that explains why you guys are here and Selby’s dead.”

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky asked.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” she answered, her face contorting, “I also took the wings for your ass,” she aimed her gun at Sam, “So that you could save his ass,” then at Bucky, “From his ass,” the gun landed on me after Zemo, “Your ass is new.” “I’ve had one hell of an initiation, trust me,” I replied, standing my ground between Bucky and Zemo.

Sharon turned back towards Sam, “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up so I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Don’t blow that smoke at me, I was on the run, too,” Sam recalled. “Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore,” Sharon shook her head sadly, “I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

“Listen, Sharon,” Bucky stepped forward, “We need your help. Please.” Sharon mirthlessly chuckled to herself, sighing afterwards as she made her decision. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”

While Sam roughly shoved Zemo forward to keep him in his line of sight, Bucky pressed a gentle hand to the small of my back to act as a guide through the dark alleyways. “You okay?” he asked quietly, quickly looking over at me. With everything he’d gone through in the last twenty minutes, the fight in the bar, the unshed tears in his eyes, Zemo talking about him like he was property to be traded, I couldn’t understand why he was asking if I was alright. He was what I was concerned with right now. “I will be once I get out of these shoes,” I joked, trying to get him to smile if at all possible. A corner of his lips turned upwards in a blink-and-you’d-miss-it flash, mine doing the same right after in some sort of relief.

Sharon led us to her car parked down a different alley, Sam shoved Zemo in the front seat while him, Bucky and I squeezed in the backseat once again. The difference between Low Town and High Town was visceral, Madripoor may have been dangerous no matter where you went but High Town provided a little more safety. When we arrived at Sharon’s house, greeted by two burly guards, the feeling of protection increased. The first room we entered was filled with artwork, statues and other priceless works that told us exactly what Sharon had done to afford her lifestyle in High Town.

“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well,” Sam commented as we walked through the room.

“Well, I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler,” Sharon shrugged, far too goodheartedly for a true criminal, “You know how much I can get for a real Monet?” Sam grinned at his friend, “Deactivate your hustle mood, you sell fake Monets.”

“No, she means real,” Zemo corrected, “This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” “I kinda thought that was implied,” I said, following Sharon and Zemo and beginning to relax in the shockingly calm environment, “No offense.” Sharon scoffed, “None taken, a girl’s gotta do what she can to survive. By the way, who are you?”

“Y/n Y/l/n,” I answered, “Sam’s sister.” “Hmm,” Sharon hummed, looking me over once before turning around to hurry Sam and Bucky along, “Come on, you guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour. You,” she pointed to me, “Second door on your left, I’ll bring something up for you.” At the promise of shedding the over exposing dress and blistering heels, I had never moved faster in my life.

————

I took the opportunity to catch my breath while I could, the night had been a little too exciting than any of us had wanted. Sitting on the edge of Sharon’s bed with my elbows balanced on my knees, I felt the adrenaline rush I’d been running on start to subside.

The door opened, bringing in Sharon and her garment of choice. “This looked like it would fit you,” she said, tossing me a black jumpsuit that looked ten times more comfortable than what I was in. She walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out an outfit for herself, “I gotta change too, back to back?” “Works for me,” I replied, turning around and beginning to unzip the dress.

“So you said you’re Sam’s sister but your last name isn’t Wilson?” Sharon asked, I could hear the sound of her clothes hitting the floor.

“We grew up together,” I freed myself of the dress and kicked it to the corner of the room.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here though,” she said, “This is probably the shittiest family road trip you could go on so clearly there’s a reason.” I looked over to the wardrobe, a pair of black boots sitting on the floor next to it. I used my energy to levitate them and landed them at Sharon’s side. Her dry chuckle served as her reaction. “I kinda begged him to bring me,” I explained as I pulled the jumpsuit up my body, “He was going to send me back home before John Walker decided to not so subtly threaten me with the Sokovian Accords, figured I’d be safer here with them.” “Safer?” Sharon scoffed, “Did he say this before or after you were being shot at by bounty hunters?”

“Well, between getting shipped off to jail and going undercover with a superhero and a Super Soldier as protection, I’ll take my chances here.” I heard Sharon walk away, presumably finished dressing. I zipped up the suit and tightened the belt, turning around after to find her leaned up against her dresser with her hands in her pockets. “Look, I know we just met but let me do you a favor and shed some light on the subject of heroics. It’s all bullshit. The whole costume, nickname, swoop-in-and-save-the-day act is all hypocrisy. I get that you’re young, you’ve got,” she waved a hand at mine, “Whatever that is. Maybe you want to do some good, maybe you just want to feel like you’re a part of something. Maybe you didn’t think it through at all and just thought it would be cool to run with a superhero. But if you’re smart, you’ll get your ass on a plane to anywhere but here and stay clear of all this.”

There was so much going through my head that I wanted to throw back at her, proving her speech completely wrong. Then I remembered that this woman had sacrificed more than most had and the government had turned their backs on her. She’d stuck her neck out for Steve and Sam and had been punished for it. Plus, she was kind enough to give us refuge when she had every right now to. I wasn’t in a place to criticize her. If anything, she should have been a cautionary tale. “I’ve had these powers all my life and have never known what to do with them,” I responded, “I want to help people and this is the best way for me to do that. As easy as it would be for some people to walk away, this is personal and I can’t leave now.” Sharon stared back at me silently before pushing herself off the dresser and brushing past me. There were layers of her expression, if I could peel each one back I thought I might get to the sadness I suspected she felt regarding her current life status. She opened her wardrobe, pulled out a pair of combat boots and handed them to me. “Then take a step back and ask yourself how far you’re willing to go. And if the three of you live long enough to get there, is it going to be worth the hell that’ll come afterwards?” She gave me a half smile before leaving the room, her heavy words hanging in the air. Steve had been my friend, Sam was my brother and Bucky was quickly climbing the ranks of people I cared about. I was going to see this through to the end with them, but what was the end? Was it retrieving the rest of the serum and stopping the Flag Smashers? Was it only two of us returning? One? None? Questions I didn’t have the answers to swirled in my mind as I stared at the door, wondering what awaited us for the rest of the night.

----

A/N: Next chapter is going to be...let’s just say there’s gonna be a lot of developments. A lot. Hope you guys are enjoying it, let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged.

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlypotterwhodiaries @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @zozebo @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x platonic!reader #marvel imagine

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spenciegoob · 3 years

Text

A Short Film

A/N: hey hey hey... mid writing this I realized how much I jumped the gun and thought this was a good concept, but now that I’m thinking too hard about it, maybe it’s not. I also wrote too much of it to back down now, so hopefully someone out there enjoys this as much as I did in my head lol.

Summary: Spencer steps way out of his comfort zone to ask his film major girlfriend a question.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: nothing really... Spencer hardcore struggling with technology

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

___

“Hey Garcia, do you think you could help with something?” Spencer asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and not looking up from the floor of her office.

“Of course, Boy Wonder? What can I do for you?” Garcia answered while excitedly turning her chair back to her wall of screens.

Spencer grabbed the extra chair in her office and mumbled, “Actually um,” causing Garcia to completely abandon her position and fully face the genius.

“Spencer, are you okay? Is something wrong?” Spencer couldn’t blame her for asking. He was sweating more than usual, his face was bright red and he hadn’t stop fiddling with his hands since he shut the door.

“Oh no, nothing’s wrong. I just, uh, I don’t really know how to ask this,” Spencer stumbled back. It was the truth after all. No life experience had prepared him for such a request, one that in the grand scheme of things was not a lot, but to Spencer.

To Spencer, it was everything.

“That’s okay. Take your time,” Penelope stated back, and coming from anyone else, Spencer would have believed it was sarcastic in nature. But he also knew that Penelope was one of the only people he could never find judgement or maliciousness from.

You were the other.

“So Y/N and I as you’re probably aware have been together for 2 years now, and you also know that she just got her degree in cinematography and design, which is really funny if you think about it because I know nothing about any of that, but she knows everything. You know, sometimes she’ll explain to me what she sees through her eyes and it’s nothing like what I’ve ever been able to. I’m rambling now but I want to do that,” Spencer spurted out, and once he was done, he took a breath so deep Penelope whole-heartedly believed if he spent one more second talking, he may pass out.

“Woah there, slow down. First of all, that’s adorable. I love Y/N so much. Second of all, how exactly am I supposed to help you see things that way? Shouldn’t she be more help?” Penelope questioned, now completely confused about Spencer’s intentions with this very early morning visit.

“She can’t exactly know. It’s kind of a surprise thing,” Spencer answered shyly. He hadn’t even gotten to the punchline and yet, he was contemplating every move.

Was this a good idea?

But when he saw the way Penelope lit up before she yelled, “Tell me everything, and spare no details. None!” He knew he would stop at nothing to make this perfect.

“So here’s what I was thinking.”

That was 1 year ago today, and since then, Spencer has tried to figure out what to say when he revealed his big project. He stood in front of the mirror every day for 365 days trying to find the perfect way to put it. Still when you sat on your shared couch gazing up at him in amusement, confusion and adoration all at once, his mouth was dry and his throat clamped up.

“Spence, you’re starting to scare me. Are you okay?” You asked, watching as your boyfriend stared at you like a deer caught in headlights with a laptop and assorted cords in his hands.

“Uh, yes! Yes I am okay. I just need to um, this needs to go. You know what? I wasn’t told how to do this part, can you help me?” Spencer paced back and forth between you and the TV four times while he was talking before he stopped defeated in front of you. He wouldn’t have asked for help unless he was certain Penelope was smart enough to insert a black screen in the beginning of what caused the laptop to burn a hole in his hand.

“Yes, of course,” you said, slightly chuckling at his confusion. Spencer Reid and technology, whilst tragic, was also very adorable. “What are you trying to do?”

“I need the video on the laptop to play on the TV,” he stated simply. At least he knew what he wanted. That was a new, first step in the right direction.

“Okay easy. Just hand me that cord, and,” you drew out the ‘and’ as you bent around the TV and plugged in the cord. “Perfect. Now just plug this end into the laptop and hit play.” You handed Spencer back his end of the cord, watching as he examined the object and the side of the computer to know where exactly to put it. It almost felt like watching a toddler try and find the rightly shaped hole for the triangle piece, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t endearing.

Before he could break anything, you stepped in. “I know you’d be able to figure it out, but it’s that one.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled back sheepishly.

“Okay so a little back story. A year ago today, I asked Penelope to teach me how to record videos on my new phone. Thank you for that by the way, the camera on it is really cool, and I’m not just saying that because it’s one of the only things I know how to work. Anyways, I started secretly recording videos of you, of us, anything that reminded me of you, and me talking about you. So I sent them over to Garcia and she pushed them all together, and I think what I’m trying to say is I made a short film? Home video? It doesn’t really matter, but I’m showing it to you now.” Spencer didn’t acknowledge the shocked look on your face as he settled next to you and put the laptop on the coffee table.

But as you watched him find the video and set up, your jaw stayed slack. Spencer Reid, the world’s biggest technophobe, figured out how to use an iPhone camera just for you. While to others it may not seem like a lot, to you.

To you, it was everything.

“Spence, I don’t even know what to say. This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” It didn’t feel like enough. The amount of awe, and love that filled your chest was so comforting, so warm.

It felt like home. It felt like Spencer.

“You don’t have to say anything, just watch,” he stated before hitting the spacebar, something he’s seen you do plenty of times.

The video started out with Spencer crouching down slightly to where the phone was set up against a bookcase in front of the couch.

“Is it recording?” He whispered, and when he realized it was, he took a step back and gave a thumbs up before rushing to sit on the couch. You couldn’t help but let a full smile stretch across your face, an involuntary act when it came to Spencer.

“Hey, love bug. It’s Spencer, but wait you knew that because you can see me.” There was a small pause as Spencer squinted to see if you could actually see him from his position on the couch. When he realized he was in frame, he continued. “This is totally weird that I’m technically talking to myself right now, but I hope future me gave you an explanation. I tried to wait for a good time to start recording this, and in the two weeks I’ve known how to work that thing,” Spencer said as he pointed to the camera. “We’ve been on a case. I came home tonight, and you’re sleeping right now, but if I stay quiet enough I can say what I need to.”

You looked over at Spencer as he was twiddling with his fingers. Something he only did when he was nervous. You reached over and grabbed one of his hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but when you tried to pull away so as to not truly disturb his fidgeting, he caught it. So, you intertwined your fingers together, and continued to watch past Spencer.

“I came home today, and all I wanted to do was hold you. Granted, that’s every day, but today was just, it was really hard. When I came home you were asleep on the couch. One time you told me you didn't like to sleep in our bed while I was away, something about it being too big. At first, I was mad because your poor back, but today I changed my mind because the amount of steps to get to you was much less.”

Spencer unlocked the door to the apartment, resting his head against the wood as he inserted the key into the lock. The most recent case had ended with the death of both the latest victim and the unsub, and he couldn’t bear another second of remembering the scene play out in front of him.

All he wanted to do was lay in her arms, but when he opened the door, the apartment was completely silent.

And then he saw a little fuzzy sock clad foot sticking out from underneath the huge, fluffy blanket on the couch. Slowly, he walked towards you, finding you fast asleep with a t-shirt of his tightly snuggled up to your neck and face.

Spencer got down on a knee in front of you, and brushed the hair that had fallen over your eyes. Slowly, they fluttered open at his feather touch, only to widen with realization.

“You’re home!” You squealed, throwing your hands around his neck. Immediately, he reciprocated the hug, tighter than usual. Spencer tucked his head into your neck and inhaled the scent of your shampoo, a grounding technique he would never tell you he developed. The hands he delicately placed at first across the expanse of your back grew heavier, drawing your body closer to his.

You pulled your head back, him following your movements, and stared deeply into his eyes for a second. The moment you two locked eyes, he knew the jig was up. Spencer knew you could see right through him, and he knew that even if you weren’t there to witness what he had, you saw it replaying over and over in his eyes.

“You must be tired, let’s get you to bed.” Your words shocked him at first. Usually, the people in his life would ask insistent questions on his mental well-being, and while they were greatly appreciated, Spencer was never one to open up when asked to.

You, however, didn’t meddle, you didn’t push. You simply gave him a place to feel safe as you two settled under the duvet together, never letting go of one another even for a second. You held the back of his head, slowly brushing your fingers through his curls as he laid against your chest. Your fingers were medicinal to him, softly taking away the pain and violence of the day, and replacing it with security, comfort, love.

“No one’s ever been that excited to see me before, let alone knew how to take care of me the way you did. I just,” Spencer trailed off and looked towards our bedroom, where you stirred in your sleep looking for him. “You’re about to wake up and wonder where I went. Now you know what I was doing in “the bathroom” for 30 minutes actually meant. Alright, see you next video, love bug.”

The screen cut to Spencer obviously holding the phone close to his chest, the only thing in frame the space where his shoulder and neck met. The soft chords of the start of Vienna by Billy Joel can be heard from outside the room he was in.

“Okay, I’m gonna have to sneak up on you. I’m sorry in advance.”

Spencer finally addressed the camera. As the Spencer on the TV quietly left his position in what you could only assume was your bedroom, you looked over at your very real Spencer softly smiling at the TV.

When he caught your stare, he said “Watch, this is my favorite part.” Turning back to the TV, you watched as Spencer carefully tiptoed to the living room, placing the camera to lean against the vase in the middle of the dinner table to face the kitchen.

In the kitchen, you watched yourself very poorly sing along with Billy Joel using a whisk that you just got done washing as a microphone. The blush that crept up your neck and to your cheeks with embarrassment still felt the same as it did that day.

You hadn’t heard Spencer sneak up on you, not until he was right behind you and let out a soft chuckle at a note you missed. Spencer had never seen someone jump out of their skin as much as you did when he made his presence known.

“Jesus Spencer, you scared me!” You yelled before a smile crept up your face. You couldn’t help it, even in the most embarrassing times, not when Spencer looked at you like that.

“Sorry, love bug. Although, I didn’t mean for you to stop the show.” At that you hit his chest with the whisk/microphone, both of you laughing fully now. “Come here.”

Spencer took your hand, pulling you softly to his chest where you laid your head to his heart. Wrapping his hand around your waist, the two of you started to slowly sway to the music. You both were incredibly offbeat to Vienna, but listening to Spencer’s heart, you realized that the tempo you were dancing at matched up. Unbeknownst to you, due to the adrenaline of being scared, Spencer could feel your heartbeat on his abdomen, and was swaying to that.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, dancing to the in sync beat of each other’s hearts.

The clip of you dancing however only lasted 10 more seconds as the next scene of Spencer bundled up for the fall played. You had met Spencer during the fall, and fell in love with the way the red, yellow and orange leaves contrasted against his honey eyes. This clip was no different.

“Hey, love bug. I’m on my way to deliver this coffee to you in between classes, but I had to stop so I can show you my new friends I’ve made along the way.”

The camera panned down to 4 little ducklings surrounding Spencer’s converse, most of them just waddling around, but one was insistently pecking at the rubber toe of his left shoe. Spencer pointed at the little deviant and said ‘that’s you’ before bringing the camera back up to his face.

“I may have made the mistake of feeding them the fruit I was bringing you, which reminds me I should probably go get you more. I don’t think you’ll be mad though. How could you? Look how cute they are! I kind of want to take them home, but I definitely know that’ll make you mad. Anyways, I just wanted to show off that you’re not always the animal person in this relationship. See you soon, love bug.”

“Oh my god, Spencer. That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, but to confirm your thoughts, yes, I would’ve been mad,” you stated, the giddy smile never leaving your face, and giggles spreading themselves through your words.

“I know, I know. They belong in the wild,” he said back, holding up his free hand in faux defeat.

A new scene presented itself to you, this one being Spencer setting up the camera on the bathroom sink while brushing his teeth. You knew you were approaching by the music slowly getting louder.

You entered you and Spencer’s shared bathroom, Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John playing out of your phone. He was brushing his teeth, and you followed suit, not stopping the small dancing as you did.

You looked at Spencer, and started moving side to side, your free hand grabbing the crook of his elbow to join you. Looking in the mirror expectedly, you watched Spencer look up at the ceiling before joining you, a smile on his face.

Slowly, the two of you fell into a rhythm to the beat of Elton John, making funny faces to each other in the mirror as you did so.

You reached out fully to lean your head on Spencer’s shoulder as you watched.

The scene on the TV shifted once again to show a very flustered you standing in front of the TV with Citizen Kane paused. Your hair was in a messy bun, and you were sporting one of Spencer’s old Caltech t-shirts, and fuzzy black pants with little pumpkins printed everywhere.

Spencer was also wearing the same fuzzy pants.

“Spence, I’m gonna sound crazy here,” you sprinting off the couch after pausing the film you were currently trying to study for your film analysis class.

“You’re not off to a great start here,” Spencer laughed out. Spencer once told you that no matter what he thought about a book or film, he wanted to listen to you ramble about it for hours. The first thing he fell in love with about you was the way you challenged his thinking, expanding his mind to the possibilities of learning about the difference between production design and cinematography. You taught him something that no class, book or person could ever.

Your mouth dropped open, an over exaggerated gasp leaving your lips, your hand meeting your chest softly.

“Meanie.” Spencer and you chuckled at the antics, and when the laughs died down, you continued. “Here me out, though.”

And from there, you went into a deep dive about the unreliable narrator, and how it affects camera placement in the scene you two just watched.

“Oh my god. I talk that fast?” You asked Spencer, who just let a breathy laugh out at your realization.

“Don’t worry, I think it’s adorable,” he whispered the last part, the smile on his face turning from one of hilarity to one full of love.

30 seconds into your rant, you realize the phone he was attempting to hide close to his lap. Your eyes flicked between the camera that was pointed at you, and Spencer, who’s face filled with confusion as to why you stopped talking.

“Are you recording me?” You asked, a smile never leaving your face. Oh no, he’d been caught. Spencer has to think of a believable excuse, and quick.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, I just uh... I figured instead of you trying to write it down later, you’d want all your notes now.” Perfect!

“Damn, that was good,” you said, nodding softly at his swiftness. You couldn’t be mad he lied, how could you when the truth was this beautiful?

“I know, right? I came up with it on the spot,” Spencer joked with you. As if TV Spencer knew he was interrupting a moment, a throat clearing came from the video. The Spencer you saw was from 3 days ago, and was sitting in his car in what looked to be the Quantico parking garage.

“Hi, love bug. I’m days away from showing you this, and I still don’t know what to say. I hope the me you’re with now has figured it out. So, uh, yeah. That’s it. Uh, take it away, future Spencer. Actually, you’d be present Spenc-” The video cut off, courtesy of Penelope Garcia.

“Y/N,” Spencer started, turning to face a very emotional you fully. “I still haven’t found the right words. None of them could express my love for you, and perfect doesn’t come close to describing you. I know you have a thing for supporting evidence, and I think I just provided a lot to prove that the best thing to ever happen in my life is you.” You let out a small giggle, the tears welling in your eyes breaking free. “Oh no, if you cry, then I’m going to.”

You let out a full laugh now as Spencer wiped the tears falling down your cheeks before continuing.

“Before you, I was reckless. I didn’t care what happened as long as I did something to help. Now, I have a reason to be careful, a reason to care. I can’t do that to you, and if I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, I need to live.”

You inhaled softly as Spencer reached into the pocket of his pants, taking your hand in his.

“Which brings me to my question,” he said with a small smile and cocked his head. Slowly, he dropped down to one knee in front of you.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” Spencer opened the velvet box to reveal a simple silver band with a square cut diamond delicately placed on top.

“Spencer Reid, yes. I will marry you.”

With shaky fingers, he slid the ring on your fingers, the fit perfect. You couldn’t wait any longer, and grabbed his face in your hands to pull his lips to yours. Your lips molded together in perfect harmony, lulling you deeper into Spencer’s embrace.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I love you, too,” Spencer answered, only pulling back far enough to mumble before kissing you again.

Note to self: thank Penelope Garcia.

____

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Text

But professor… - epilogue

Summary: It's been a year and a half since their little baby was born. How are the two of them doing?

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: Is it the end for Penny and Walter? Yes, omg i can't believe. I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it. The story took a full 180 (especially because I intended this story to be much shorter lol), but I'm very satisfied nonetheless 🥰

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter //

Declan has a plan and that is to go outside. I mean, it’s kinda fair, since he spend a lot of time inside today. Not that he complained. No, no, no, he was an absolute angel at the salon—like always—playing with his toys, while I was at work, but now he needs some fresh air after we had a quick snack at home.

This little man is definitely as head strong as his dad, however he isn’t as stubborn as Walter can be.

Declan attempts to throw a ball at me and I can see there is some definite improvement. Just like any kid at that age, he is distracted like that. ‘Momma, momma,’ he says, pointing to a truck that passes by. ‘Dada!’

‘Oh honey, that is not his truck,’ I say, crouching down next to him. ‘Dada is gonna become soon. In his other car. His work car.’

Declan points. ‘No dada?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Dada home?’

‘Almost,’ I say to him, giving him a kiss on his cheek. Declan stops playing altogether, staring at the road, waiting for Walter to come home. His mouth slightly agape, as he focused on every car that passes by.

Finally his car pulls up and I exclaim: ‘There he is!’ When Walter gets out of the car with a smile that is only this wide when he sees us, I let Declan go and watch him wobble over to his dad. With one hand he lifts the little boy up and presses kisses on his chubby cheek. ‘I missed you,’ Walter says, looking his son in the eye.

‘Dada miss, dada miss!’

He chuckles. ‘That’s right.’ He walks up to me and says: ‘There is my princess.’

‘Princess momma,’ Declan says.

‘Give me a kiss, sweetheart,’ he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. I press a peck on his lips and melt against his frame.

‘It went splendid,’ I say. ‘I actually got to do someone’s hair for an important interview and afterwards, she came back to the salon and told me it went great!’

He smiles. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

After Declan was born, I stayed home for about six months, acclimatizing to being a mom and those sleepless nights. It was hard, I cried a lot and I was very scared. I think I hung on the phone with my mom about seventy percent of the time, while calling Walter the remaining thirty percent. I have adjusted pretty okayish, especially when Walter went to work, made sure I have nothing to worry about.

No stress, providing for the two of us as much as he can and Declan and I sure are lucky that Walter is the love of my life.

My parents helped me financially to go to cosmetology school, which was an absolute blast. It was around fifteen minutes from my place and Declan was always allowed to come with me.

He sure wrapped everyone around his fingers with no issue at all.

While Walter still is that grumpy detective he was when I met him outside of our house, he changes into a big fluffy ball, shaped like a human the second the front door closes. No matter how tired he was, how long his shift was, he pushes it aside to take care of his family.

We walk inside of our place and I tell him: ‘I made dinner.’

While I’m not a world class chef, I do manage to make some decent meals, especially because I wanted to make Declan’s baby food, since my mom raised me with that as well (though I was no saint and had jars as well stored in my kitchen, just in case).

‘Princess, I’m so lucky to have you,’ Walter says. Once we’re inside, he places Declan in the high chair and scoots his own chair closer to it, a silent message that he will help Declan eat today. ‘Okay, little fella,’ Walter says, ‘you gonna be a good boy and not spill the food over me?’

Declan nods. ‘Deccie, good boy.’

I give Walter a kiss, after placing his plate and Declan’s in front of him. ‘He has been such a good boy at the salon today, so it’ll go great, I’m sure.’

After I sit across Walter, he asks about my day. From the looks of it, he had a rough one. Thankfully enough happened at the salon today for me to talk about. While we’re still working on improving him sharing more details, but I kinda understand. With Declan repeating a lot of words recently, we get a little bit more careful with what we’re saying.

After Dinner, Walter and I curl up on the couch after Walter changed into something more comfortable. Declan places his head on my chest, his eyelids growing heavier before he stretches out his hand to place on Walter’s chest.

I nuzzle against Walter’s side.

‘He is so cute,’ Walter notes.

I smile. ‘He sure is. He has your curls.’

‘But your pout and eyes. How can I ever say no to this kid?’

I shake my head. ‘You can’t, honey. I tried it today and it was the hardest thing in my life.’

He starts to chuckle softly. ‘You got nothing to do tomorrow?’

‘No, why?’

‘Can you come down the precinct? I wanna show off the two of you.’

I smile. ‘Oh my goodness, you are so predictable. Of course, I can come by. Maybe I’ll even steal some of my mom’s cookies, tell them I baked them.’

He chuckles. ‘Oh, you shouldn’t be lying when at the police.’

Declan stretches himself and whines a little bit. ‘Momma,’ he says, looking up to see me.

‘Oh, I think someone is really tired,’ I say. ‘You wanna go to bed?’

He nods. ‘Deccie tired.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘Here, sweetheart, I’ll do it. You relax, okay?’ Walter stands up and after I gave Declan a kiss, Walter lifts him up and carries the tired little one up the stairs.

I watch my big buff boyfriend walk back into the living room and he places the baby monitor in front of us, before he sits back on the couch. That monitor basically is glued to Walter’s hand as he always checks up on his boy. I thought I would be the parent that worries the most, however Walter puts me to shame.

The two of them are as thick as thieves and it makes me so grateful that we have a son together.

‘How was work today?’ I ask him.

He shrugs. ‘There was a dad who left his kids in the car,’ he says, ‘in the burning sun, before literally running away. Took us two hours before we found him.’

‘Oh no.’

‘Yeah, it was painful. The kids are gonna be okay, but… It reminds me that Declan is a really lucky kid.’

‘Do those kids have someone to go to?’

‘Yeah, an aunt,’ Walter says, rubbing his face. ‘Come here, princess.’

I wrap my arms around his neck, giving him a kiss on his lips. ‘I missed you.’

Walter smiles. ‘I missed you too. You have no idea how much it means to me to see you two in the yard, waiting for me. Especially after a shitty day like this one.’

‘You know you can always call me,’ I say. ‘Really, I always want to listen to you. You before anyone else, okay?’

He nods. ‘Have I already told you today that you are a very amazing mother and how lucky I am?’

I shake my head. ‘Nope, not today.’

He pulls me on his lap and gives me a peck on my forehead. ‘Just everything you do and say to him… It’s like you always know exactly what to do and you stay so patient and kind.’

‘Oh, Walter, that’s too sweet. I can guarantee: it’s all because you stayed—or at least pretended—to stay calm. Had you not done that, I would absolutely freaked out every time Declan had a funny breathing.’ I ruffle through his hairs and ask: ‘Have I been good to you as well?’

‘What kind of question is that? Of course you have. I’m so lucky that I have you and you and I have a family. There is no one else in the world I would rather have with me for important events.’ He places his hand on my sides, pushing up my shirt. ‘Give me a kiss, princess.’

I willingly oblige and press my lips on his. ‘I love you, Walter.’

‘Oh, I love you too. I want your honest opinion and really be honest, okay?’

‘Okay,’ I chuckle.

‘What do you say if you and I have another one?’

‘Another what?’

‘Kid.’

My eyes widen. ‘Really?’ I ask. He actually wants another kid with me? I mean, I always figured we would have more than one kid, but that would be in the future a little bit further away.

But already another one?

‘Yeah and I mean, if you’re not ready, then I totally understand and I won’t bring it up until you are ready, but I personally would love it.’ He smiles and adds: ‘I mean, two of the most beautiful babies running around here? Together with my beautiful girlfriend, who I’ll make my wife someday?’

I should not be squealing, yet I totally do. ‘Walter, honey,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I’d love to have another baby with you.’

He starts to smile even wider. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, really. I’d love for Declan to have a few brothers and sisters.’

‘A few? How many you thinking about?’

‘I don’t know. How about three kids? Or four?’

He starts to laugh. ‘Then you and I better get some practice in with some baby making,’ he chuckles. ‘Because this time it’s not gonna be an accident.’

I slap him across his chest. ‘Walter, what did I say about that word?’

‘Oh, right right.’ He gives me a kiss and says: ‘Declan wasn’t an accident, he was our surprise baby. Forgot.’

I place my forehead against his, wrapping my arms around his neck. ‘Forever and ever, right?’

‘Forever and ever.’

#walter marshall #walter marshall x penny townsend #walter marshall x oc #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x asian ofc #penny townsend #asian ofc #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #but professor

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g4rous · 3 years

Text

Sunlit memories (Garou x Reader)

tags: fem! Reader, no warnings lol, this is just the first chapter a.k.a the introduction

words: 1.1k

notes: ok so this is the first chapter of the series that I plan to write, so pls feel free to give me some feedback on this and whether you like it and should I continue :'0 💕 Thanks a lot for any kind of support ee 💗

series masterlist

Chapter one

Playful footsteps scattered across the freshly-cut grass, followed by a few equally spirited barks. Whether the small chocolate-colored dog was chasing the ball or the children lay undetermined, nonetheless they all seemed amused. A mother stood next to the gleeful dog owner, both exchanging chuckles and commenting on how adorable the sight in front of them is. Above them dozens of birds filled the air with a familiar amicable tune, as if the soothing music coming from a nearby café wasn’t enough. The park was never lonely, yet so pleasant at the same time. All those chirps, chatters and noises were like an extra spark, and frankly it’d be rather uncanny if it weren’t for them and the pastel sky above, radiant with soft hues. Cases where belligerent monsters ruined the harmony were rare, although enough to cause one to succumb to unease. Be that as it may, people always push through it and find a reason to enjoy the now sunlit park.

Though, while it was interesting to observe the scenery it wasn’t quite what you were looking for. Fiddling with the pencil in your hand, you stared displeased at the blank page of your sketchbook.

“Why isn’t there anything interesting today?” you pondered, eyes impatiently shifting over the scenery.

Almost every day for the past few weeks you’ve been sitting at this very bench, looking out for something eye-catching to draw. It’s funny how you coincidentally came across your now daily go-to place, a surprisingly comfy wooden bench underneath two large oaks, their treetops creating enough shade for another twenty people. Luckily you had your own peace there without anyone bothering you.

“Hmm… Maybe I just don’t feel like drawing people?”

After a small sigh you leaned against your hand and looked up at the treetops. The sky turned golden already, painting the leaves in shades of olive and amber. Your eyes steadily trailed down to the path next to the old oaks, now noticing a small patch of lilies that with their vivid hues and delicate form drew you in almost immediately.

“Huh. Maybe I should just go for something simple and quick?”

Well, that was what you though right before something else caught your eye. Someone to be exact. A few meters away a rather peculiar-looking guy sat on a bench. He leaned against the bench leisurely while folding his arms, his tight black shirt complementing his muscular built. His gaze was relaxed, albeit alert, and his features were sharp. Sunlight peeked on his wild, silver hair, coloring it with subtle sandy hues almost matching with the golden in his eyes.

Now, if this didn’t give you inspiration then what did? And here you thought you’d be drawing those lilies. You sighed in content, stretching your arms for a few seconds before you got to work. Subtly glancing at his direction from time to time, you had already outlined the portrait. Though, truth be told, he had such a pretty face you were trying not to stare at one point.

“What are you doing?”

You didn’t even manage to let go of your pencil before an unknown voice jolted you out of your thoughts. Much to your bewilderment you looked up to see that same man now only half a meter away, glaring at you.

“Well shit.”

Should you apologize or straight up act like you weren’t just secretly drawing some random person? Or better yet, how the hell is that same person in front of you right now? You were embarrassed as much as you were confused and to make things worse the drawing wasn’t even in your sketchbook anymore.

“Are you a hero or something? I don’t remember seeing you anywhere.” the man asked, shifting his gaze from the drawing in his hand to you.

“Hey when did you take that?!” you finally spoke, an apology being far from your mind at the moment.

On one hand it could be legitimate since you didn’t ask for permission to draw him in the first place, but on the other… What kind of punk would just rip the piece out like that?

“If you’re some c-class dunce trying to gather info on me with this-“, he grinned, still analyzing the art piece “-you’re gonna be sorry pretty soon.”

“Dude I’m not a hero.”

“Wait, what?”

That threatening, cocky grin of his from a moment ago dissipated into thin air like it was nothing, but your confused expression on the other hand only grew bigger. Was he serious?

A soft shade of pink made its way to his face for a brief moment, to which you almost chuckled.

“So you’re seriously not a hero?”

“Um, no..?”

“Your luck.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” He headed the opposite direction of you, drawing still in hand.

“Ahh so… can I get that back now please?” you walked behind him, surprised he’s oh so casually trying to leave the scene after such odd behavior.

“Nope, sorry.”

“Aw what, why??”

“Let’s just say it isn’t convenient for me at the moment to have that lying around wherever,” he put both hands in his pockets, “plus I didn’t say you could draw me did I?”

Now your face turned red in embarrassment again. He was right… Though, you still couldn’t help but wonder who this strange guy is. While tearing that drawing out of your valued sketchbook didn’t make for the best first impression, his demeanor wasn’t really belligerent either.

“Ah, sorry about that… However I must say it wasn't polite to take the drawing away like that either.”

His eyes slightly widened in embarrassment before turning away his face again.

"Eh..."

"Don't worry about it though," you smiled for a moment, "I guess it was just a weird misunderstanding or something."

Your eyes shifted on the path you were walking on, already dim because of the now darker sky, “if I may ask, is someone like… searching for you or something?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he glanced back at you, “why are you still following me anyway!? Just go home it’s getting dark.”

“Well, this is the way I take in order to get back home so you can’t really complain,” you smiled to his mild annoyance.

The night sky engulfed the city by now, leaving behind a tranquil atmosphere. Nonetheless, compared to the center of the city, your street wasn’t as bustling. Light shone from the surrounding apartments and lamp posts, and the only sounds present were from the neighbors’ TV’s or the occasional car passing by, much in contrast with the city’s center and night life.

You didn’t ask many more questions as you walked, despite the faint haze in your mind. The man obviously wasn’t too chatty, yet alone keen on sharing any personal details. Be as it may, much to your surprise what you thought would be an awkward walk was actually somewhat refreshing. Hell, you even let out a laugh or two together. Who would’ve thought the on-first-glance intimidating teen is pleasant to be around? Or, well, at least you thought of it like that. In any case way better than walking through those dark alleys alone.

next chapter

#feel free to tell me your thoughts 💕#garou #garou x reader #opm x reader #opm #one punch man x reader #one punch man #garou headcanons #garo

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fenristheorem · 3 years

Note

it´s me again u.u! how about lance + begging nsfw please?

You again!? Well goodness, you just can’t get enough of Lance it seems, haha. Don’t worry, I can’t get enough either.

Writing this as a scenario because it’s specific enough to do so 😏

There is begging but it comes in a bit later, there’s a lot of build up to it lol.

*Note: This is an nsfw ask so it will include detailed sex scenes and - considering it includes begging - very kinky sex. Don’t read if you feel you won’t be comfortable with this subject. Minor swearing. Also, this starts off immediately in the thick of it, so don’t start reading until you’re comfortable (and alone) lol.

I usually write with the term Guardienne due to the neutrality of it, but it seems a bit... weird? for Lance to be saying that instead of an actual name in this case (since Guardienne isn’t an ‘actual name’), so I’ll substitute with the name Erika to give more flow(?) to the situation.

~Under the cut~

Lance + begging nsfw (+ bondage as discussed, and blindfolding because it’s wonderful - and let’s face it, Lance wouldn’t beg if he can do something about it so the man would need to be helpless):

Aged ropes - worn well from years of use elsewhere - creaked dangerously as Lance flexed his arms and tensed his body. His back arced and hips lifted slightly off the bed as he snapped his eyes shut and panted. He wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up in this situation - his thoughts were cloudy and wouldn’t allow him to think that far back and in detail, especially with the slick, velvety pair of lips that sucked delicately at the skin between his thigh and ball sac. His hardened cock twitched and he groaned lowly as her tongue lapped his skin for a moment before she pulled away.

Released now from the rippling pleasure, he breathed out and relaxed, nearly ashamed at how sensitive he had become. Sure, he was prone to succumbing to sensual physical touch quite easily, but he rarely displayed this much sensitivity at this intensity. It seems like she must have caught him on a good night.

The female pulled away to gaze at the man underneath her - lacking all articles of clothing and looking more gorgeous than ever as a thin layer of sweat slowly manifested on his skin. Powerful, scarred arms reached up towards the headboard, wrists bound tightly in musty old rope that seemed to be just barely withstanding his strength. It was faintly frayed in a few areas, and hopes that it would last the night passed through her mind. Lance broke the last one they used; it was thinner and was braided differently than the one they were using now, but newer than this old rope. However, the vendor at the market selling rope was closed today, and her their patience couldn’t last through the night, so they had to make due with the dubious old rope she found way deep in the guard’s stores until tomorrow came, where she could buy another stronger rope. Fortunately this one seemed to be holding for now, but it was completely unknown on if that would remain.

Her eyes trailed over Lance’s wrists - not rope-burned thankfully, but definitely unable to escape unless the rope broke. His circulation looked fine based on his skin tone, and as her gaze trailed back down again she couldn’t help but admire the thick veins that wound down his forearms. She threw a glance at his burning icy eyes - narrowed in a glare of pleasure and irritation - as she climbed over him, straddling his abdomen before flicking her gaze to his parted lips and then back to his eyes.

“What do you want?” Her voice was a low, husky murmur as she stared enticingly into the dragon’s eyes, shifting to rest her hands on his broad chest and accentuate her naked breasts.

His gaze twitched as she did so, but he didn’t leave her eyes as he narrowed his further and growled deep within his chest, almost so that she could feel the reverberation underneath her palms. The dragon’s answer was clear.

“What do you want me to do?” She asked again, her head tilting slightly and hair spilling over her shoulder.

Lance’s nostrils flared slightly under a heaving a breath when she adjusted her hips, resting her weight on his abdomen and shifting in a continuous rotating motion, just a mere few inches away from where he’d like to feel her slickness instead. Every movement downward allowed the tip of his cock to brush against her rear, just enough to create some sort of tempting friction that sparked another wave of feral impulses to flow through him and buck his hips. The woman above him quickly lifted her weight off of him at this, narrowing her eyes slightly and giving a faint coy smile.

“Erika.” He growled her name, impatience rising within him.

She had been continuing her teasing ministrations for nearly an hour based on his internal clock, starting from foreplay, then pinning him down - at his will - and tying him up.

That’s how she got him like this.

He remembered clearly now when she brought him down on the bed and gently traced along his arms, bringing them over his head to hold his wrists together as she dug around in a bedside drawer. Lance humored her by submitting and laying obediently as she began tying his wrists with the rope, and then tying that to the headboard - only to realize too late that she could tie quicker and stronger than he thought when preoccupied with teasing her neck, and he found himself genuinely bound without easy escape. He had glared at her as he struggled against the restraints for a minute while she backed away, reminding him of their consistently unused safe-words as she reached under his knees to wrap her arms around and grasp at the top of his thighs before pulling. Once leaning up and struggling faintly with the knot, he found himself completely against the bed sheets with his arms gently taught above his head, and Erika made sure to keep him like that by placing her hands on his waist immediately and resting her weight on him to keep him from pulling himself back up. She made quick work of his pants from there, and the rest is history.

Now, leaning teasingly above him, Erika’s skin crawled with anticipation as she recalled her victory. Rarely could she get Lance bound without his true obedience to the matter, so having this powerful man underneath her truly by her own accord made him seem that much more feral and dangerous - which made her feel that much more powerful. Technically he could use their safe words to get out of this - their first rule is to always obey the safe words, it overrules all other rules - but she knew he wouldn’t. He would make his resistance interesting by actually using his wits to escape, not taking the low road and using the safe words just because he feels taken down a notch by being so easily bound while being completely aware of her game.

However, he didn’t seem to want to play her game. That would make sense; he’s not one to beg, but Erika set her ambitions on hearing him plead, so by the oracle that’s what’s going to happen.

She smiled at his low growl before taking her weight off of the hands on his chest, turning back to the drawer she pulled the rope from - she still had a few other techniques to disarm him further...

“Not in the mood to ask, huh? I’m sure that’ll change.”

Lance’s gaze flicked over to the dark, thin cloth she held in her hand, and then to her playful grin as she looked back at him. He could do nothing to resist her as she used both hands to place the cloth meticulously over his eyes and around his head, tucking the loose ends behind him to keep it in place.

“Not too tight?”

Erika gently tested the tightness of the blindfold by slipping a finger between the cloth and his skin, finding it loose enough to provide comfort but tight enough to keep him effectively blind.

Lance openly bared his teeth and snarled at her from deep in his throat - not the first time he’s done that, usually when he’s angered or irritated in ways he doesn’t know how to express, but occasionally to humor her. It was a mix of both irritation and humor that drove him to snarl this time.

“Oh dear! I suppose I should beg for you not to hurt me?” Her voice was a coy, amused teasing that drew a mean but genuine smile from Lance as they both shared a hushed laugh.

“Only if you don’t want me to hurt you.” He purred.

Erika hummed in response as her weight shifted above him.

“I don’t think there’s a lot you could do right now anyways.” Her voice was silky and light as she teased him, and the only warning Lance had was her weight settling between his legs again before she licked a path up the middle of his sac until the base of his cock. He gasped a quick moan, the smile dropping from his face before he clamped his mouth shut and bit his lower lip.

This woman would be the death of him.

Erika held his shaft with two fingertips of one hand as she brushed her lips up his length, stopping just before his head before ghosting her way back down. She moved to the soft, sensitive skin between his thigh and sac again - this time on the other side than she was before - and gently sucked a small portion of the skin into her mouth, licking and attentively sucking to assure she wasn’t being too rough to the point of pain. The hand that wasn’t holding his twitching cock rested on the inner of his thigh as she moved again, pressing a firm, wet kiss to the curve of his sac. The muscles under her hand tensed as she did so before she pulled back slightly.

“I can keep at this for a good, long time you know. Are you sure you want to be that stubborn? I could relieve you, all you need to do is ask nicely.” Erika drew the words out tauntingly, watching the dragon’s facial expressions as she spoke and hoping he would give some hint that he would crack and yield to begging.

However, Lance refused to give in so soon. He knew he was in a bad position; he couldn’t move, couldn’t see, and now he feared opening his mouth for any reason lest he somehow ended up pleading instead, but he refused to go down without a fight. Instead, he took a steady breath and willed himself to relax as much as possible again, mentally steeling himself to avoid any possible temptation of pleading for her from entering his mind.

All of his mental preparation, however, fled from him when he felt her fingertips brushing his inner thigh, before warm, silken lips took one of his balls into her mouth as her tongue gently lapped at his skin.

Fire rolled underneath his skin as he tensed again, impulsively flexing his arms and pulling down before they came to an abrupt halt as the rope reached it’s limit. A shaky, rumbling breath made it’s way from his throat as electricity surged through his veins and settled at the base of his cock, sparked from the persistent restraint that rendered him helpless. In this moment he never wanted to break a restraint so badly, so he resolved to pulling further against the ropes, encouraged by the faint creak of either bed or rope, until he couldn’t find it within himself to apply more pressure while under such states of intense desire.

Erika glanced up as she swirled her tongue around the tender skin, her own skin shivering momentarily as she watched Lance’s display of strength against his restraints. She sucked harder at him - testing the limits - as the thrill encouraged her, wondering how long this could continue for before the ropes broke under the might of the ice dragon. Did it even occur to him to perhaps use his ice to freeze the rope and snap it? Was he fully aware, but wished to prove that he could escape without the use of his dragon ability? Erika watched with anticipation as she teased him, awaiting his next move. How wonderful it was, doing something so lewd to such a powerful man as he fought for control under the weight of his own rules.

She adjusted herself again, gently releasing his skin from her mouth before teasing her lips around his other ball, only to back away again a few short moments later.

Lance huffed a shaky breath as he relaxed slightly, the ropes binding him loosening just a bit when he did so.

“What do you want me to do, hmm? What do you want me to do next?” Erika watched Lance closely again as she spoke, once again attempting to assess where his level of self-control was.

Lance parted his lips, unknown but desperate words lingering at the tip of his tongue, before he resorted to shaky breathing. He knew she could keep at this game for a while, keeping him at the edge of pleasure and infuriating him just enough so he would eventually buckle and give her what she wanted, but he still wasn’t ready - he had a bit of composure left.

However, the one small gesture told Erika exactly what she needed to know. She kissed along his lower abdomen, nipping lightly once in a while, before dipping back down to his ball sac, taking the first ball gently into her mouth to tease again before letting go and taking the one she neglected into her mouth. Lance’s back arched slightly in response and he bucked his hips when she began tracing her tongue over the sensitive skin. Her hand caressed his cock, thumb rising to pass over his slit where precum was dripping, and stroked once as he bit his lip and tensed against his restraints again.

Erika released him from her mouth and moved to lean over his cock, running the tip of her tongue from his sac, up his throbbing shaft, until she felt the ridge of his head before backing away again.

“I need you to beg for me, Lance. Tell me what you want me to do.”

She spoke knowing he was probably drowning in relentless waves of pleasure from her bold actions, hoping it would weaken his resolve further. For assurance that her tactic would work, she immediately leaned back down after speaking and ran the flat of her tongue over his cock head, tasting the salty tang of precum as she passed over his slit.

Lance grunted, a minor desperate note in the sound, and rolled his hips, gasping faintly when he felt her lips brush his head momentarily. However, Erika quickly pulled back, taking both hands off of him and refusing to initiate skin contact.

“Lance,” she started, her voice a lewd murmur. She knew exactly how far to push him now. “If you want that you need to beg. Beg to feel my lips sucking you off.”

Erika traced a finger over his cock head before leaning back down and running her tongue underneath the ridge, brushing her lips over his head in a soft kiss as she laid her hand on his abdomen and dragged her palm lower, towards his sac.

Lance bit his lip and groaned again as Erika gently took his sac in hand and squeezed softly, before she pulled away and held his cock in her palm instead. She teased one of his balls into her mouth again, adjusting properly as Lance’s hips rolled when she stroked his cock, and swirled her tongue around it before sucking lightly and pulling gently back.

“Fuck, Erika, please!”

The words escaped Lance before he had a chance to argue against himself, caught agonizingly in the desperation of wanting to feel her lips around him again. Tight coils settled in his lower abdomen as his cock throbbed in her palm, and the precum that was slowly slickening her touch on him only encouraged his desire to feel her lips sucking him off.

“Please what?”

Erika pulled gently away from him to speak, brushing her lips over his skin still and flicking her tongue out to lap at his cock when she could.

“I...” The dragon hesitated, not knowing how to find his words.

Erika leaned back down momentarily and sucked the flesh of his sac into her mouth, purposely excluding his balls, before releasing again and dragging her tongue from his sac, between his balls, up to his head. Lance jerked momentarily against his restraints and released a faint growl as he bucked his hips, and Erika humored him by complying to his wishes and wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, swirling her tongue and lightly sucking as she pulled steadily back to release him again. Lance’s hips rose off the bed to keep his cock in contact with her lips as she pulled away.

“Fuck, alright! I need you to suck me off! I need to feel you!”

His hips rested against the bed as Erika pushed him back down, bobbing her head once to take him further into her mouth. Her tongue ran along the underside of his shaft as his cock throbbed, precum seeping out of his slit to mix with her saliva and help slicken him. Lance moaned as he rolled his hips, enjoying the warm wetness of her mouth before she pulled away again.

“If you beg more I’ll swallow.”

“Only if I can watch.”

She smiled as she leaned up and grasped the blindfold, and with a flick of her wrist the blindfold drifted off the bed and towards the ground. Her eyes met with Lance’s piercing blue eyes - weighed heavy with lust - for only a moment before she leaned back down and took his cock in her mouth again.

Lance’s gaze followed her as she bobbed her head, gently sucking and swirling her tongue around his head when she came back up. One of her hands came to the base of his shaft, encircling her thumb and forefinger around his base and squeezing. He groaned and slightly rolled his hips, embracing another wave of warm electricity that came cascading through his veins as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

Erika pulled back for a moment, tilting her head to the side to lick along the dry skin further down on his shaft before taking his head in her mouth again. She eased herself further down, slowing as she felt his head press against the back of her mouth, but persisted and relaxed herself so she could take more of his cock.

Lance gasped quietly as Erika swallowed him, pulling against his restraints before releasing a loud groan.

“Fuck yes. Let me cum in your mouth, please let me cum in your throat.”

Lance’s voice was low - laced with the rumblings of a growl - as his abdomen tensed and breathing increased to a light pant. He rolled his hips as gently as possible, asking for more without making her too uncomfortable to the point of pulling away.

Erika released his base and took the rest of his shaft into her palm, slowly backing off to allow herself a moment to relax as her hand followed the direction of her head movement. She swirled her tongue around his head and stroked his shaft, pulling away momentarily to drag her tongue up the middle of his sac and take one of his balls into her mouth again. The pad of her thumb swiped across his slit, spreading more precum as he groaned, before she gently pulled her mouth away with a gentle tug and took his head into her mouth again.

Her hand stroked his cock at the same pace that she bobbed her head, continuously going deeper every time, and licking the sensitive underside of the ridge below his head when she came back up, until his head was pressing against her throat again. She gently squeezed his shaft once as she relaxed herself and took him further into her throat again, giving herself a moment to adjust before moving slightly.

Lance groaned as she took him into her throat again, abdomen tightening and hips rolling like earlier. He panted, casting a glance at her to make sure she wasn’t displaying signs of distress, before gently bucking his hips. Erika held steady, meeting his gentle movements with further advancements of her own as she stroked with her hand what she could. Lance squinted his eyes shut again, a small shiver rippling through him as he felt his oncoming release.

“Let me... please! Yes, like that!”

He panted his words and arched his back as Erika tightened her throat around him, applying more pressure to the underside of his shaft with her tongue and pulling back slightly for a moment before swallowing him again.

Lance struggled against the restraints again - tensing and pulling so hard he was sure that he’d break something - before the impending wave of fire rolled through him. He bucked his hips a last time, a shout escaping him as he released himself.

Erika held still as Lance’s cock throbbed in her throat, a strong, salty taste making itself apparent a few moments later as the dragon panted and slowly relaxed. She gently pulled back after a few heartbeats - keeping in mind that he would likely be sensitive now - before glancing up and locking her gaze with a sated blue gaze. Without a moment’s hesitation, she swallowed and licked her lips, as promised, and Lance narrowed his eyes slightly.

Her gaze broke from his and she leaned off the side of the bed, taking his discarded shirt from earlier.

“You can clean yourself up, right? I need to wash myself off quickly, I’ll be back in a minute.”

She tossed the shirt casually onto Lance’s chest and rose tediously from the bed, testing to make sure she could stand after so long in an odd position.

“Uh... wait!? I can’t...”

Minor alarm laced Lance’s voice - a rare thing to hear from him - so Erika immediately stopped all she was doing and looked towards him, remembering now that he couldn’t, in fact, clean himself up. He was still restrained.

“Wait, you really can’t break out of that!?”

Sure he was restrained, but the last rope he broke was much stronger than the current one, and not as frayed as this old one. Apparently the little old rope could stand to a dragon’s strength.

He merely gave her a look; a raised eyebrow combined with a half amused glare.

“Your ice-”

“Hey, I can answer that question while you unite me.”

Lance watched her stubbornly, a twitch at the corner of his mouth signaling the beginning of a small smile.

Erika rolled her eyes.

“Your ice can’t freeze it then shatter it or something?”

She was sure he had that ability, so why didn’t he just do that? Regardless, she went to untying him, gently loosening the ropes around him and affectionately brushing her hands along his arms to soothe any pains the rope could have caused from his fighting, until he was completely free.

And then she was grabbed by the waist and pinned on the bed.

“What-”

“You really think you can tie me up, blindfold me, and then ask me to beg for you without there being consequences? I think it’s only fair that you know what that feels like now.”

Lance already had both her wrists pinned under his large hand and was setting to work with the rope, and Erika couldn’t help but fight the anticipating grin that slowly overcame her as she realized what that would entail for her.

She hoped for a moment that the rope would break, and then decided against it. If begging for Lance came along with his tantalizing teasing, she certainly couldn’t complain.

~I hope you like this! I don’t entirely know how to talk teasingly so the dialogue might not be the best, but otherwise I think I wrote pretty well. 😂

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