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clownd1ck · 3 months

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trouble, j. miller | chapter one

mob!joel miller x fem!reader

chapter summary: after getting fired from your job at the bookstore, your grandparents introduce you to the man who’s been helping them out for awhile: joel miller. now, it’s his turn to help you.

chapter warnings: reader swears and has dry humour (she’s a bit of me x), mentions of vip’s getting touchy but it’s hypothetical if that makes sense?? reader calls her grandparents ‘pops’ and ‘nonna’, no beta cause i cba, blah blah blah that’s it

also no hate to anyone who reads romance/physical smut books, the hate is simply towards minors who read them & their parents for allowing them LOL

word count: 2518

(series masterlist)

you really don’t know how much longer you can do this.

you’re six hours into your ten hour shift. you’re bored, you haven’t had your lunch break, and your phone is charging behind the desk where you were watching criminal minds before two teenage girls walked into the bookstore.

you’ve watched them for the past twenty minutes. they practically ran to the romance section, picking up books and flicking to certain pages you know had the most pornographic scenes in them before they’d giggle amongst themselves and add it to the pile they were building.

can teenage girls even afford this many books? you had been working since you were sixteen, and you’d barely get enough money to buy yourself two books whilst the rest would be stored away for college. and is this what people were reading nowadays? a male character that exudes toxic masculine standards whilst the author plays into the whole “innocent, virginal” female character who hadn’t the slightest clue about sex or life? is this what parents were allowing their children to-

“we want these books.” a demanding voice speaks to you, and you almost have to do a double take when you see the two teenage girls stood before you at the counter. god, you couldn’t even rely on the younger generation to be polite these days, especially not when one of them is judging you for your oversized hoodie and sweats and the crocs that sit on your feet.

“of course.” you force a smile, biting back on the insults you wish to hurl upon them. but, your boss is in the back. probably doing jackshit like she usually does, leaving you to work your ass off without any breaks.

the scanner scans the barcode on the back of every book before placing them in two bags. dante’s nine circles of hell sounds more appealing than this. you might just grab one of the books and hit yourself with it, hoping you hit so hard you might pass out and get to leave early. not like your boss would allow it, but the thought of having a hot shower and slipping into bed sounded nice.

“and your total is $194.68, is that going to be cash or card?” you rest your hands on the counter, looking at the two girls. one of them whips out a card, so black and matte you almost feel the courage to ask her if: it’s her fathers, and if so, is he single?

you hand her the card machine where she taps the card, and once the payment is deemed successful, one of the girls takes the bag, looks into it and frowns. “these aren’t in the right order.”

“excuse me?”

“the books aren’t in the right order.”

there’s a right order to put books in. none of them were even a series, and even then, does it really matter if your fucking fairy porn trilogy is separated?

“did you ask for them in a certain order?”

the girl gives you a look. “no?”

“so then why would i know what order to put them in?” you’re so done. you’re so fucking done, mentally, physically, and in the eyes of your boss, as well. the girls look at you, mouths agape, probably because they didn’t think they’d be spoken to this way, but you always said that the second a customer is rude to you, you’re being rude back.

the duo scowl at you as they leave the store, muttering insults under their breaths like it was a middle school friendship break up. you sigh, going to turn around to grab your phone when you jump back, spotting your boss leant against the wall.

“you’re fired.” she states.

“yes!” you fist pump the air sarcastically, grabbing your stuff and practically racing out the store. you didn’t even care if you were supposed to wait until the end of your shift to fully leave your job. you were hungry, tired, and your pops and nonna had told you that pops’ infamous burgers would be made for dinner and you were eager.

on your walk home, you listen to your music. it was relatively dark outside, and ideally, as a woman, you shouldn’t be wearing headphones in the dark. but you had always been more frightened by the noises you could hear rather than the ones you couldn’t.

you step into your home, taking your shoes off by the door and walk into the kitchen. you stop at the sight. your pops and nonna were stood in the kitchen talking to a man you have never seen before and you’re almost offended that your grandparents hadn’t allowed you to meet him because jesus christ and all things holy, that man is beautiful.

he’s tall. scarily tall, actually. and not to say you have a thing for muscular men but you would not mind letting this stranger throw you about. he leans on the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest as he eyes you up.

“he. who is he?” you point to the man, looking at your grandparents.

your nonna tuts your name. “he is joel miller, helps us out where we need it. why are you home so early, sugar, i thought you had a ten hour shift today?” nonna embraces you, kissing your cheek as she taps your arm, signaling for you to sit down at the kitchen table.

a faux laugh escapes you. “heh, well, you see-”

“don’t tell me that damn boss of yours ‘s been givin’ you a hard time again.” your pops speaks up this time, interrupting you this time. your pops was a scary man. he used to be involved in a lot of shit back in the day, constantly being chased down streets and alleyways by the police, always having them on his doorstep which would cause his mother to scold him. you can’t count the amount of times he’s threatened to come down and give your boss an earful on both hands.

“she actually fired me. apparently addressing one’s stupidity isn’t allowed. however, i am more focused on joel. joel, what is your purpose in this here house?” your head turns to look at the man as he addresses you, and he gives you a small smirk, walking over to the table and sitting across from you.

“she got a mouth on her, don’t she?” he asks your grandparents, and your nonna chuckles.

“always has. only started living with us when she was eighteen because of college, but she’s always had something to say.”

“something that’s gotta be shared with everyone.” your pops adds, and you give him a playful pout.

“right here guys, right here.” you announce. “back to the topic at hand. joel, why have you interrupted my pops’ burger night?” you’re facing each other now, your eyes analysing his face but all he does is smirk and since when was smirking so attractive on a man?

“well, your grandparents here mentioned how you hated your job, and i just so happen to have one that needs filled at one of my clubs.” his texan accent was prominent and full as he spoke, his brown eyes never leaving yours. “‘s if you want it, of course.”

“what club?”

“apocalypse.”

you slam your hands on the table with a wide grin. “i’m sold. when do i start?”

joel chuckles. “no questions about the pay, the shifts?”

you shake your head. “nope, don’t care. you know how hard that club is to get into?” you turn your head to look at your grandparents. “extremely fucking hard, i’ll tell you that right now. and i’ll get to work in there? god, life is so generous to me sometimes.” you exhale lightly, jokingly.

joel doesn’t stay for your pops’ burgers, but he’s given some to take home anyway. you decide to walk him to the door, being the ever so kind woman that you were, ready to see him off when he stops.

“ya’ start at five p.m. tomorrow, alright? i’ll have someone show you around, get you your uniform ‘nd all that before the club opens.”

nodding your head at joel, you bid him goodbye and watch as he makes his way to a sleek, black porsche, get in, and drive off.

____

“what do you mean you’re working for joel miller?” alicia asks you. alicia was the first friend you made at college after you chewed her ear off for the entirety of your first class. a girl who followed gothic fashion and was an absolute sweetheart compared to the people you’ve known in the past.

“i mean exactly what i said, babe. he’s apparently been looking after my grandparents for awhile and he offered me a job at apocalypse after that old bitch fired me.” you shrug, taking a bite of burger you got from dining hall.

“but joel miller is…he’s dangerous! everyone says his clubs are just money laundering schemes to hide his actual money.” naomi spoke up this time. ever the worrier, she was.

“money laundering would mean that no one was using his clubs and they were just there, naomi. the clubs are exclusive. i mean, we’ve all seen the lines to get in. we’ve been in those lines!” alicia somewhat comes to your defense even though you know she’s fully against you working there.

“my friend tina, the one from the political science class, worked there last year, and she says the pay is amazing!” a woman with black curls approaches your trio, another close friend of yours: georgia. “don’t get me wrong, she said some shady stuff happens in the v.i.p. lounge, but probably just guys gambling or something.”

you embrace georgia. “see, good pay and all i have to do is not ask questions. i’ll be fine, guys. and you,” you look at georgia “need to meet me at our cafe so you can tell me about that little masc lesbian of yours.”

you finish the rest of your burger, and pick up your bag. “gotta get home, but i’ll fill you all when i see you.”

you wave goodbye to your friends, walking out of the building as you scroll on your phone. when you get to the street, you bump into someone, about to apologise until you look up and gasp dramatically. “you! are you stalking me. god, joel, i didn’t know i was worth being stalked. that’s so flattering.”

joel scoffs, and opens the passenger door to his black porsche. “get in. ‘m gonna drive you down to the club.”

“don’t have to tell me twice.” you get into the passenger seat, placing your bag down in between your legs and joel closed your door. he rounds the front, getting in beside you and starts the car.

“ya’ hungry?” he asks, driving away from your college building.

“i ate just before i left. had a cheeseburger. not the most edible thing i’ve ever had, but it worked.”

“if you’re hungry when we get there, i’ll take ya’ down to the kitchen and grab you somethin’ there. house mom might have some snacks for ya’ too.”

brows furrowed, you turn to look at him. “the fuck is a house mom?”

“older woman who works with the dancers, takes care of ‘em in between dances. she’ll have snacks, spare outfits or shoes, hygiene products. helps ‘em all like a mom would.”

“nice.” you nod your head, and soon you’re in the private parking lot for the club. joel gets out first, rounding to your side and opening the door up for you. “gotta love a southern gentleman.” you snicker, walking into the club behind him.

he walks up a set of marbled stairs, heading to the second floor. “you’ll be working in the v.i.p. lounge, ‘s where all the dancers are and most of our staff.”

the second floor of the club is lit with red led lights, creating a sultry atmosphere. there are private rooms scattered all around, but there are booths scattered in the middle. joel walks you down to a hidden room and opens the door.

“this is my office. you can put your shit in here.” you walk in and place your bag down on the cushioned sofa, taking a seat beside your belongings. “i’m here when i’m not in the booths doing business, but if anything happens out there, ya’ come and find me, alright?”

you nod your head at him.

“all v.i.p’s know dancers and staff aren’t to be touched, but you gotta promise you’ll come find me if that rule is broken.” after promising, he continues. “i’ll take you down to adele and see if she’s got any spare uniform for you. she’ll walk you through anything else.”

joel guides you down the haul with a hand on your lower back, and if there was a camera following you, you would’ve hand an office moment with this simple touch.

“momma!” joel yells, knocking on a pink door.

the door opens, and an african-american woman opens it. she looks at joel, then you, and embraces you in a tight hug. “welcome, baby. this the new girl we’ve been hearing about?”

“yes ma’am!” you answer before joel can, shooting him a shit-eating grin.

joel speaks your name, and your eyes meet his. “go inside while i talk to adele, she’ll be back to help you in a minute.”

as you step inside the room, you’re met with an abundance of dancers. some are singing, doing their hair and make up, zipping up their heels, and others are lay on sat around eating some snacks.

“hi guys!” you wave at everyone, and they all squeal when they see you, immediately asking questions.

you answer them as best as you can until adele comes in. “now, i gotta get her some heels and her uniform, and when i come back-” adele glances around the room, pointing at an east asian woman with pin straight black hair. “lucy, do her make up, just so she knows what the standard is. your hair is fine, baby, don’t need anyone touching that.”

lucy smiles and waves at you, and you return it as adele leads you into the changing rooms. “uniforms are simple. black shorts, black long sleeve, and…what size shoe are you, baby?”

you respond, and she goes over to a rack of black, leather heeled boots. they’re platformed, shiny, and you know your feet are going to hurt the second your shift is done. “and these. i’ll let you get changed and you just come straight out when you’re done. help yourself to some snacks as well.”

“i don’t have to pay you for them?”

adele chuckles. “no, baby. joel gives me the money to buy the snacks. anything for you girls, joel pays for.” and with that, she leaves the room.

you sigh, looking at the mirror in front of you. this was a new job, with a hot boss, and from what you could tell, the rest of the girls in there were lovely.

this was your life now.

____

a/n: first chapter mother fuckers let’s GOOOOO

taglist (if you want to be added, pls let me know!! & if your name is in bold, i couldn’t find your account :()

@dugiioh @amyispxnk @skysmiller @alyhull @noisynightmarepoetry @elliaze @dendulinka6 @zliteraturehoe @atyourmerci @al33naaa @mermaidgirl30 @lulawantmula @nana90azevedo @endlessthxxghts @getitoutofmymind @you-taste-so-sweet @blazeflays @iveseenstrangerthings50 @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @aquanatalie @katw474 @ludwigxii-blog @eloquentdreamer @kyloispunk @txmel @din-jarring @daddysmilf0123 @sofiparallel @dunkinzjm @runningmom94 @ashhlsstuff @moel-jiller @isimpforfictionalmen @drewharrisonwriter @stormseyer @rodriguez31 @elliesswearjar @vvitchesh3x @joeldjarin @untamedheart81 @ellishamae25 @pedropascalfan221 @mellymbee @pedritosgfreal @yassspose @casa-boiardi

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller au #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #mob!joel #mob boss!joel

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steddietogo · 1 year

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So. This is my own take on Steddie meet cute at the Grammys (gets a little thirsty in the middle for a second so warning I guess??)

———

The buzzing in his veins feel too much to contain in Eddie’s body, his cheeks ache from grinning too hard. He grabs Jeff by the shoulders to shake him and Jeff takes it without complain, too busy floating in his own cloud nine to do anything about it. All four of them are.

They’re being carted off from one interview to another, it’s all hazy in his mind, all he can think of is that they won a fucking Grammy.

“We’re here backstage with Corroded Coffin with their first ever Grammy from the best rock performance category,” the interviewer is saying, then he turns to face the band, and shit. Eddie has to sling an arm over Gareth to keep himself upright. “So how are you guys feeling right now?”

“It feels very validating to get the recognition for all our hard work—” and everything else Jeff says barely registers. Eddie is staring, he’s distantly aware of it. But he should hardly be blamed. The man before him is dressed in a deep caramel suit, jacket cinching around a trim waist and bubble gum pink lips stretched in a smile as he diligently listens to what his band has to say.

“— and Eddie, he’s really put his heart and soul in this song in particular,” the mention of his name unceremoniously drags him back to the land of the living where his bandmates know him too well and are actively trying to sabotage him before the sexy interviewer. Gareth is innocently blinking up at Eddie with his I’ve-never-done-anything-wrong-in-my-life eyes, urging him to speak.

“Um,” Um? Seriously? “Mob Mentality is an especially significant song to me personally—” Eddie’s given this spiel a hundred times, not that any word of it is untrue, but the practiced response lets him zone out just the right amount to fully drown himself in the shade of hazel of the interviewer’s eyes, imagine them looking up at Eddie from between his thighs, full of tears— goddamnfuckstopit.

The man must notice, because there’s a gorgeous smattering of pink dusting his cheeks Eddie could swear wasn’t there before.

After, Eddie is pretty much bodily dragged away from there, legs refusing to carry him away. He twists even as he’s walking, desperate to keep the man within his sights for even just a second longer. To keep him looking at Eddie, which by some miracle, he still is. And like an idiot Eddie waves, wiggling his fingers at him.

The man raises his own hand in return, and then he’s turning away, leaving Eddie to mourn the loss of his attention. But then he hears it— Steve. The camera guy calls him Steve. Sexy interviewer’s name is Steve. That in itself would be enough to sustain Eddie’s daydreams for some time.

———

Predictably, its all over social media the very next day. Or more accurately there’s one particular clip circling the net like there’s no tomorrow.

Eddie Munson simping for hot guy at the Grammys.

The comments were the worst (best) part. Eddie hasn’t dated since coming out to the public. And the fact that most of the comments people have about him openly showing interest in another man is just nonchalance or excitement makes him feel much better about it.

Eddie’s heart skips as he sees the face from last night in the clip, looking even more gorgeous than in his dreams if it were even possible. And then there is also Eddie in those clips, practically undressing him with his eyes, right there in public. He looks like he wants to open him up and lick him like melted chocolate in a wrapper.

Eddie was so screwed.

———

Top comments:

user 80085: that man is stronger than me because I don’t think I’d survive Eddie Munson looking at me like that

CorrodedFC: Eddie Munson Rendered momentarily speechless? by an interviewer?? More likely that you think

you_call_me_munson: they need to date. Right this second or I’m stealing one of the hotties for myself

———

Part II

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #famous eddie munson #steddie Grammys edition

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waywardcrow · 5 months

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All eyes on us.

Summary: This wedding needs to happen, it's the only way you can protect the ones you love, the only problem is that you're in love with your husband-to-be and he would never love you back.

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Stark!reader.

TW: Really not so many, talks of murder but very lightly, mentions of mysogyny, implications of mafia kind of stuff, death of parents, mention of future smut, curvy!reader, no mention of y/n and reader's nickname is Bells (context coming soon), kind of enemies to lovers but not really enemies, arranged marriage, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

Part of the Yours to lose series.

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Everyone was waiting for her but she kept looking at herself in the mirror.

The wedding dress was beautiful, Pepper told her it was what Maria Stark –her mother- wore in her own wedding day and she loved it, the silk was too soft, hugging her curves with an ethereal touch and it had a subtle scent that she assumed belonged to the mother she couldn't remember.

Tony swore their mother loved her, their father too, the young bride couldn’t help but doubt it, they would not love her if they could see her now about to get married to a man who didn’t love her back, a man who humiliated her once for his pride, someone who probably only wanted what this arrangement could give him back.

How would she survive this marriage when it was impossible to leave the room and get to the Cathedral?

A knock in the door pulled her out of her mind, finding Natasha smiling at her in the reflection of the mirror.

“Are you ready, dear?” her friend knew the real answer but still gave her the chance to speak.

“I was about to go” she lied and the redhead gave her a knowing look “everyone it’s waiting, isn’t it?”

“You’re the bride, honey, they can wait” Natasha walked to her, looking like a goddess in her silver dress and put her arms around the bride’s body “you can say no, we can fight Russo’s father, hell, Billy would love having one more excuse to kill him.”

She was sure Billy would do it, not only for her but for his sister, for Madani and for himself but it wasn’t time yet, the alliances needed to be settled, Stark and Barnes had to fight alongside to kill Pierce and Carlo Russo. She made all that mess before getting her family back and nobody would take them from her, never again.

“It has to be done, Nat” she put the veil in her head and took the beautiful bouquet Becca left for her earlier “let’s go.”

Her friend must have seen something in her eyes that made her nod.

“Alright, Bells. Let’s do this” her nickname, the one Yelena gave her when they met years ago, made her smile, who could ever thought that knocking someone out with Christmas bells will change her life?

Natasha guided her trough the corridors to the waiting room where Tony was talking in a hushed tone with Pepper, her sister-in-law radiant with her baby bump, reminding her why this alliance needed to happen.

“I’d be waiting outside, dear” Nat kissed her cheek and went to take her place with the other bridesmaids.

Tony was staring at her, pale like a ghost, whispering his sister's name. It wasn’t the first time in the last months Bells was told how much alike she was with his mother, their mother but this time Tony didn’t say anything, just looked at her eyes to find determination that matched his concern.

“Everything it’s beautiful, Peps, thank you” the bride said and the ginger smiled with a hint of sadness barely visible.

“It’s the least I could do for you, topolina. You deserve beautiful things” she never had a mother, not that she could remember, but with Pepper there she could feel like she did.

Pepper gave her husband a gentle squeeze in the arm and went to join the rest of the guest.

“I have Frank ready to go, say the word and we leave” his first words almost made her chuckle, he spent the last fifteen days planning ways to get her out of this but Bells always refused, a small and stupid part of her happy because she would marry the man she loved.

“I want to do this, Tony, for all of us” that part it was true, this marriage was the only way she could protect him and Pepper and the baby, Billy and Dinah, Frank and Maria and the kids, the family she dreamed about since she was a kid and that she finally had. It also would save her from Carlo Russo’s greedy hands.

Bells knew one or two things about the mob, mostly from movies and for that she was sure the respect from his brother to her choices were more part of his good soul, she heard some stories from Maria that made her want to kill Carlo Russo even more.

True to the man she met not too long ago Tony didn’t fight her, instead he straightened his bow tie and extended an arm out for her to take it.

“Then allow me to walk you down the aisle, signorina, it will be my honour” the charm went back to his eyes and Bells could breathe, if she could count on them, she could do anything.

The music started playing when the wedding planner gave the signal and every one of her friends smiled at her or blew kisses at her before marching down the aisle. From where she was she could see Maria walk with confidence, not sparing a glance to her father who unfortunately was sited next to her brother Billy and Dinah.

Natasha was the last one, looking at her with reassurance one last time before following the others, then it was their turn.

“I love you, topolina”

“Love you too, Tony”

The crowd of guest was an unfocused picture, she only had eyes for the man waiting for her at the altar, wearing a black tux with a new haircut, his long chestnut locks were gone, sending a silly wave of sorrow through her veins.

She loved his hair, in an embarrassing impulse she remembered pulling his long hair to get him to kiss her again when-

Bells stopped herself.

It was dangerous to think about those times, they were gone the minute he saw her as one of his properties and decided to punish her for something she never did.

Bucky’s eyes never left her the whole way to him, drinking her like he was dying of thirst. Steve must have noticed too because he gave him a subtle bump to get him to blink and stop looking like he would commit sacrilege in the middle of the church.

The beautiful glass windows projected a million colors around her when Tony lifted the veil and with a barely visible hesitance put her hand in Bucky’s.

“I’m confident you will protect her with your life, Barnes” was all he said, dead serious when Bucky gave him a solemn nod and her brother kissed her forehead.

With her eyes watching her step, Bells avoided looking at him until it was impossible to keep going.

A soft smile, one she thought she lost forever, resurfaced when their eyes locked and the bride could read what he was thinking.

She was his, always was and always would be and he would never let her go.

I'd do bad things with you >>>

Hiya! I'm super happy to post this story even if I don't know what I'm doing, to be honest I'm not fluent in italian, so here's the translation of the pet names I used:

-topolina: Little mouse.

-signorina: Miss.

If I made a mistake with that, feel free to correct me and tell me what you think! What do you think it will happen?

Love, Lily.

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #mob!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst

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two-white-butterflies · 5 months

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house of the dragons masterlist

Daemon Targaryen

We Raise Our Cups to Them - Daemon gifts you a necklace.

The Last Dragon - You thought that you were the last dragon. That was until you met him.

You Taste Like Wine - The story of how Daemon gained his thorns. (Tyrell!Reader) ➺ pt.2

A Little Life - Short drabble on Daemon and your son.

Wanton Desires - Daemon speaks to his wife while you give him head.

Orange and Tangerines - You and Daemon visit a brothel.

Ingenue - Daemon falls in love with a wolf. ➺ part two. (Stark!Reader)

in the land of gods and monsters - You were the Queen, but you loved the prince. (Tyrell!Reader)

A Heaven I Can’t Reach - You were left by the Rogue Prince. You find out that you are pregnant, and he returns.

The Prince of Flea-Bottom - (Hightower!Reader)

Ghost of You - Your soul consumes Daemon with avarice.

Fuck the Rich. Fucks the Rich. - Threesome with Harwin.

Maroon - It is the night of your wedding, and instead of making love. You both decide on playing chess.

Anti-Hero - You are the first-daughter of Viserys and Aemma, as she realizes what war is about to begin. She marries her uncle.

Midnight Rain - You used to be Daemon Targaryen’s fiancee, until he is forced to marry Laena Velaryon. You fall in love with Aemond. years later, Daemon returns.

Labyrinth - The reader is the daughter of Viserys and Alicent. Daemon almost gets the entire court high with weed brownies. The reader spreads a malicious rumor about Daemon.

Poison From the Same Vine - (Hightower!Reader)

Bigger than the Whole Sky - You become a glorified hostage for the Blacks. Your husband refuses to show his love. (Hightower!Reader)

The Smallest Coffins are the Heaviest - Daemon comforts you after a miscarriage.

Arms Length - Daemon swears to corrupt you. ➺ part two ➺ part three

Mob Wife - mafia au

White Sword - angst with smut.

The Sun Rises from the West - angst poc!reader

i’m a m*therfucking starboy - you meet the infamous prince of dragonstone. [enemies to lovers trope]

fence - he’s your dad’s best friend.

therese ➺milk matches her underwear ➺horses, cars and cowboys do - in where, your private life becomes public. [secret relationship trope]

two white butterflies ➺ how to disappear ➺ miss american pie - daemon begins dating a singer who hates the spotlight.

i shouldn’t cry - prince daemon in love with a rich girl.

false god - you are forced to choose between family and ambition.

Fresh Out The Slammer - daemon targaryen always found himself running to you after his failed marriages.

good riddance - daemon is forced to choose between love and duty.

Viserys I and Aemond Targaryen

His Real Ambition - being a matriarch to a family was has hard, watching the love of your life marry someone else is harder.

in the land of gods and monsters - You were the Queen, but you loved the prince. (Tyrell!Reader)

Midnight Rain - You used to be Daemon Targaryen’s fiancee, until he is forced to marry Laena Velaryon. You fall in love with Aemond. years later, Daemon returns.

The Alcott - You are Rhaenyra’s oldest daughter. You meet your uncle in Winterfell, and you heart feels like jumping off your chest.

Peaches - your stepson’s swimming instructor can’t stop staring at your ass. introducing, jealous aemond. | mafia au

Let the light in - you fall for your father’s right hand man | mafia au

This is me trying - a late night phone call after your team falls short on the podium. aemond comforts you, and provides you some comforting. some phone loving.

Fucking in my BMW Sedan - exactly what the title states.

I want your heart - vampire aemond

the winner takes it all - you are engaged to another. (angst)

my way, back home - aemond wants to have a big family.

A Man Who Knows - (angst)

Hands of Gold - Aemond meets an older woman. (smut)

Thranduil as Aemond's Dad - (headcanon)

Aemond Reacting to You Wanting to Break Up with him - (headcanon)

you’re losing me - after a gruesome breakup with jace - his billionaire uncle offers you a proposal that you can’t resist. [fake dating trope]

illicit affairs - it was forbidden to date a man like him. but still, you choose to fall. [cheating trope]

cats and dogs - you meet him in the animal shelter.

emma falls in love - fake dating trope for taylor swift tickets.

Rhaenyra, Helaena and Aegon Targaryen

me and the devil - rhaenyra targaryen seduces otto hightower.

exotic flower - rhaenyra garden date.

don’t you - you meet your ex-girlfriend in a party while wrapped around the arm of your brand new fling. a fight begins. messy sex.

Wanting Was Enough - Aegon falls for his father's caretaker.

extended masterlist

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc #house of the dragon #daemon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #daemon targaryen fanfic

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iovesia · 1 year

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HIS BONNIE ON THE SIDE.

𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔. being in a relationship with dark!john wick through the years.

warnings. toxic relationship. nsfw. corruption kink. emotional manipulation. canon typical violence. gaslighting. not proof read.

pairings. dark!john wick ⠀𝒙⠀fem!reader.

josie’s note .⁺ ˖ ⌒ i love doing these little hcs (and also i've had no inspo for full length fics unfortunately </3). anyways, this is for my all my toxic!john wick enjoyers — hope you enjoy ♡ !!

#. requests are open. ⠀masterlist.⠀keanu reeves masterlist.

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.

dark!young!john wick is so much more impulsive, especially when it comes to you. even though he’s only in his twenties, his name is rapidly spreading throughout the crime world. john's known for his ruthlessness and ambition— and you get to be the first to fall victim to both, and live.

john is a bit of an adrenaline junkie— loves the thrill of the chase. whenever you try to escape from him, he’s hot on your tail. this game of cat and mouse only makes catching you so much more fun.

his jealousy is worse when he’s younger (although it never really gets better). having been raised in the ruska roma (a desolate home, completely void of love and feelings), he’s projecting all his emotional turmoil onto you.

again, john was taught to wield the sharpest blades, and wield the heaviest of guns— but feelings… heart to hearts? he’s almost emotionally inept.

"thought you were too tired to go out," his voice makes you jump as you nearly drop your keys from your hands. you turn around, noticing him hiding behind your entrance door, lurking.

"i-i just went for a walk," you stammer. john's footsteps echo in your tiny apartment when he comes closer. towering over you at 6'1, you gaze upwards at your lover.

"yeah, i know. i saw you.. and him."

he’s fuming watching you get cozy and comfortable around other people, even if it’s just platonic. john wishes you were like that around him, and not so guarded and fearful.

and heaven forbid one of your male friends tried anything— anything. you’re devastated to see their photo splashed on the morning news the next day.

he’s possessive as all hell. working in crime syndicates and doing hits for the mob heightens his paranoia of something happening to you, so whenever possible, he keeps you under constant surveillance.

you frequently get into fights about this. even if you bring up the subject nicely, he damn near freaks out.

“i just want some space. i'm not even sure you trust me at all!” your hands flop to your sides frustratedly, eyes fluttering with exhaustion at the tiresome loop of this conversation.

“i'm not going anywhere, ever. you can be sure of that.”

young!john is so quick to react, too quick. your arguments can get ugly very fast. seeing him so explosive and agitated with you in contrast to his usual charming and cool nature grounds you in reality— he's a cold blooded killer, and he could if he wanted to...

speaking of killing, because of his job, he randomly disappears for weeks or months at a time.

you miss him so badly, but it’s not like you could call him or talk to him in any way, so you spend many sleepless nights wondering what the hell he’s doing. if he’s even alive.

don't even try to break up with him, or ghost him. younger john is not above kidnapping you— and even worse, pretending like it's your fault. you've been a bad girl, and now you've forced his hand :(

dark john wick is a manhandler! i'm speaking my truth! he’s just so much bigger than you, and stronger than you, sometimes he doesn’t even realise the brute of his strength against you.

he grabs your arm when dragging you somewhere, throws you over his shoulder, or when he’s feeling particularly passionate, just presses his fingers into your cheeks and pulls you in for a rough kiss.

"it's you and me, till the end. i meant it, you know that right?" john asks softly, his forehead gently pressed against yours, his dark irises searching yours for any semblance of understanding. you slowly nod, and try not to cry when he locks his lips with yours.

⠀⠀⠀

𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑.

dark!older!john wick is silent but deadly. having (somewhat) emotionally matured into his middle aged years, he’s more calculated, and logical when it comes to you.

less explosive and controlled by impulses, his ability to fill your innocent little heart with guilt is almost impressive.

“i’m sorry, john, please,” you wrap your arms around him from behind, your chest pressed against his back as you rest your chin on his shoulder . “i-i do trust you, i swear. how can i show you i do?”

while john’s face may well be presenting a hurt facade, he can’t ignore the growing bulge in his pants. your glassy doe eyes, quiet sniffles, and desperate need to want to be in his good graces again— who is he to pass up the opportunity?

even older, he is still so fiercely protective over you. he’s the infamous baba yaga, he’s not taking any chances. you’re damn near suffocated from how tight a leash he keeps you on.

when you keep resisting his “protection”— john is determined to make you see how much you need him. he’d probably hire someone to scare you a little bit, or even do it himself, just to have you driven back into his loving arms.

“i’m here, honey,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around you, enclosing you in his warm embrace as you sobbed into his chest. thankfully you miss the small eerie smile on his face. “i’ll always keep you safe.”

he has a little bit of a corruption kink. you're this sweet little thing, and john's ready to completely smear your rose-tinted view of life. while he doesn't give you all the gorey details, whatever he does tell you just adds onto the emotional manipulation that you need him. that you can't live without him (when it's practically the vice versa).

he's so unbelievably devoted to you. it's actually unhealthy, you're constantly on his mind. normally, he can keep underwraps how sickly in love he is with you— but during sex is when his darkest thoughts come out.

“i’ll kill them,” his lips against your ear, a hand gently holding your throat while the other is pressed against your button, vehemently rubbing circles.

he continues rutting into you, deliciously stretching your small cunt with his large cock. the tip gently kissing your cervix as you let out a strangled moan, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. “I’ll kill them all for you, every last one.”

he’s kind of condescending in a way that he thinks you need his help for every little thing. at first it makes you feel small, and stupid— hey, you may not be the world’s most feared assassin but surely you don’t need his help with walking to work in the morning!

he's always right (or at least he thinks). having been put on a pedestal by the crime world, it's no wonder john develops a slight superiority complex. john likes to let you "win" fights— but deep down, it's his way or no way.

*cough* he's a stalker *cough*.

either way, younger!john or older!john perceive you as the angel among his demons. the one thing in his life that could cleanse his soul— or taint yours.

﹙ ♡ ﹚─ taglist: @desoolate @sughcashsaiki @vezuiv @br-2408 @beansricejc @emosludge @nwheregirl . . !

let me know if anyone wishes to be added/removed. ∗ ୧ ‧ ₊ ˚

#dark.josie #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #john wick x reader #john wick imagine #john wick #john wick x you #dark john wick #yandere john wick #tw toxic relationship

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writing-for-marvel · 7 months

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Day 31: Breeding Kink

Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon

Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader

Summary: Bucky gets excited by the thought of becoming a father after your honeymoon.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, creampie, daddy kink™️, a teeny tiny bit of angst/self doubt at the start, reader potentially already being pregnant, lots of soft feelings and pure love

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: we are finally at the end of our honeymoon journey 🥹 thank you to everyone who has read any part of this series throughout the past month. I put so much love and effort into this and I sincerely hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have ❤️ dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

💋 Join my Kinktober Taglist 💋

Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Library | Ko-fi

Bucky hands you a glass of your favourite wine, sitting down beside you and placing a protective hand on your thigh.

“To the last night of our honeymoon.” He toasts simply. But he doesn’t need to add anything else - all other praises, different forms of ‘I love you’, and terms of endearment have already been declared to you during the past four weeks.

You didn’t think it was possible, but after the last month, you feel even more loved by Bucky than ever before.

“And to every night of the rest of our lives.” You add before clinking your glass against his. He swirls the liquid around the glass, sniffing the rich scent before taking a substantial sip. Instead, you specifically chose to place your glass down without tasting the wine.

“Who are you and what have you done with my wife?” He chuckles in that way where you can’t help but smile at the sound. “No wine tonight? Do you want something else?”

You shake your head playfully, the news you need to disclose dry on the tip of your tongue, but the sparkling adoration in Bucky’s eyes is what gives you the surge of courage to speak the words aloud.

“I’m late.” You announce and you can see the realisation play out in Bucky’s eyes as to the implication of what you’ve just disclosed. “It’s only a few days, it could be anything really - the stress of the wedding, the travel… but it’s probably best to be cautious considering how many times you’ve cum in me over the last month.”

“You think you’re pregnant?” His voice sounds breathless and his strong jaw hangs open, as if in pure shock.

“It’s a possibility...” You trail off, unsure if his reaction is due to certifiable happiness or complete dread. Fear sinks in your stomach like lead - he’s the king of a mafia empire, danger lurks around every corner, and has a long list of enemies who would want nothing more than to murder his entire family in cold blood for revenge.

How could you be so stupid to believe he’d be enthusiastic about bringing a child into that environment?

“Did you not want to be a dad?” Your voice comes out weak, almost trembling, and you can see the concern rise in Bucky’s eyes in the time it takes you to blink. His hands cup your face, tender and loving, as he rests his forehead against yours and looks at you like you’re the only thing that exists in his entire universe.

“You are the love of my life, and there is nothing I want more than for us to create a life from that love. The thought of having a little one who is half me, half the woman I love most in the world… that joy is indescribable.”

Bucky once told you that he could not bear to be the source of your pain, that for him hurting you was akin to torturing himself. He has that same wounded look in his eye right now, as if the mere thought of you fretting about his reaction makes his heart crumble into a thousand pieces.

You kiss him this time, as if you are struggling to breathe and his lips are the only source of oxygen, a desperation to convey he will always be the life force that sustains your existence.

With his strapping hands grabbing into your hips, Bucky lifts you from the couch and walks you backwards towards your bedroom expertly while his tongue dances with yours.

In a haze of passion and lust, Bucky strips the clothes off your body, lips following the soft touch of his hands as garnets get tossed around the room. As the air caresses your bare skin, he gently pulls you closer, eyes roaming your body with a fierce thirst that somehow outshines his usual desire at seeing you naked for him.

Your head is almost dizzy from his intoxicating kiss by the time you’re bare for him and he’s laying you gently on the bed, his lips trailing patterns over your stomach as he whispers words of devotion against your soft skin. He doesn’t need to speak them any louder, his whole world is encapsulated in the person laid unclothed and dripping before him.

Rubbing his bulbous tip on your clit, Bucky slowly pushes inside you and then pulls out, slapping your clit again, performing the action over and over until the needy ache between your thighs is almost unbearable. Jolts of pleasure fire up your spine and wet arousal streams out of you as you arch your back and cup both of your breasts, fingers flicking over your hardening nipples.

“Daddy, please.” The name slips from your lips before you have the time or mental consciousness to stop it, but Bucky simply smirks in response, satisfied with just how desperate you are for him, and only him.

“Daddy’s going to give you everything darling, just lay back and relax.” He teasingly draws figure eights with the tip of his dick against your clit, capturing your pert nipple in mouth, tongue circling your tender areola, the combination of his stimulation forging a ardent whine from the back of your throat.

Then, without any notice, Bucky pushes himself into you slowly, lovingly.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so tight. You were made for me, just for me.” He growls in your ear when he’s finally fully sheathed within you.

You let your hands drift over the contours of Bucky’s muscular back, drawing him even closer against you as he buries his face in your neck as his hips begin rocking into yours. Having him hold your upper body with such gentleness all the while having his hips rail you into the mattress feels both exquisitely intimate and downright pornographic.

You’re unsure how Bucky manages to be both concurrently, but he always finds a way.

“Sounds like that feels so fucking good for you, baby. Fucking squelching for daddy.” He’s not wrong, the salacious squelch of your walls fills the room along with your lustful moans with every unrelenting, impaling thrust of his cock.

His pelvis rhythmically meets your ass as he lifts your hips, taking you by surprise and pushing your legs back into your body, testing the bounds of your flexibility. From this angle he can’t help but graze your spongy g-spot with each thrust, over and over and over again. You cry out in pleasure, too overwhelmed by the sensations undulating within you, one moment it’s all too much, the next not enough, to realise your fingernails are digging sharply into Bucky’s biceps.

At this point in your relationship Bucky knows your body better than you do, before you have time to recognise that you’re right at the precipice of a fast approaching orgasm, his nimble fingers locate your throbbing clit, massaging the bundle of nerves in that way that makes a wanton sob bubble up in your throat.

“Look at me baby - keep your eyes on daddy when he makes you cum.” Those dazzling steel blue eyes are your downfall, those same sparkling eyes which have always regarded you with an unparalleled desire and reverence, even from the very first time you met. Those beautifully unique eyes you have memorised the patterns of, committed to memory where each fleck of gold resides and how they seem to shine brighter when you’re the object of his gaze. Those same sincere eyes that filled with tears as he watched you say ‘I do’ and feasted on your body in your white wedding gown until he zipped it off you on your wedding night.

Your high hits you with a magnitude that shakes your entire body, eyes rolling back and has your toes curling. The rest of the world crumbles around you, the only thing your brain can comprehend in this life shattering moment is that Bucky is mercilessly pounding into you, pushing you through a climax that feels like a million shooting stars all exploding at once.

Bucky stills as you tremble around him, coming down from your high with sweat on your brow and a dazed look in your eyes that he can’t seem to get enough of.

His kiss is soft and sweet, but completely life ruining all the same. It takes you back to the first kiss you ever shared, how much outpouring of love you felt when his lips touched yours and you knew for certain you wouldn’t kiss anyone but him ever again.

Bucky’s hips start moving again, slowly at first, building a sensual rhythm of deep strokes which has you biting into his shoulder to prevent yourself from moaning obscenities. You can’t tell where he stops and you begin, your bodies moving together in the heat of passion, euphoria covering you both like a blanket of pure, warm sunshine.

“Gonna breed you.” He growls in your ear with that inflection in his tone where you can tell he’s just as close as you are to coming undone. “Gonna give you a baby. Our baby.”

His words satisfy some primal part of your brain that’s in control now, you swing your legs around Bucky’s waist so he stays exactly where you want him when he cums. His arms frame your head and he gazes down at you as if he’s trusting you to hold his fragile heart in the palm of your hand.

“Give it to me. Please daddy, please give me all your cum.” Your fingernails scratch down his back as Bucky’s cock grazes over the spongy spot on the inside of your walls which makes you see stars. “Put a baby in me.”

Your words only spur him on, thrusts growing sloppy, faltering slightly with a guttural groan reverberating from his chest that is the beginning of the end for you, the pebble which breaks the dam, your release flooding through you in crashing, torrential waves.

“Fuck, Bucky, I’m cumming!” You announce and through his panting, Bucky lets out a satisfied hum as you walls clench down around him, triggering his own release right alongside yours. You swear you’ve ascended to heaven, floating on a cloud of pure bliss as the ecstasy of your high radiates like a rising sun within your core.

Bucky stays hovering above you as you both catch your breath, whimsical smiles tickling the sides of your mouths as you simply gaze at each other, the only thought running through your mind being how fucking lucky you are to have someone who loves you like Bucky does, someone who will always put your wants and needs before their own because ensuring your happiness is their happiness.

“Can’t let any go to waste.” Bucky comments as he pulls out of you, fingering his release back inside you so that none spills out, flicking your puffy and sensitive clit as he does so, sending jolts firing up your spine that makes you squirm.

“Well, if you weren’t pregnant before, you’re likely to be now.” Bucky chuckles lightly, his hand brushing lovingly over your stomach as he lays beside you. “And if not, then we’ll just keep trying. We are pretty good at the act of baby making.”

“We certainly are.” You turn your head and capture his swollen lips in a raw, delicate kiss that can convey more meaning than mere words can. “I can’t wait to go back home and spend the rest of our lives together, maybe with some little feet pattering on the hardwood floors too.”

You know Bucky well enough by now to recognise the genuinely content and blissful smile spreading over his features. You crave for him to look at you like this for the remainder of your life, for him to feel so full of adoration for you that he simply cannot be anything other than blissfully happy in your presence. If he loves you even half as much as you love him, you’re positive your love story will be one for the history books.

“Te iubesc [I love you].” He places a kiss to your hairline, and pulls you closer in his embrace where you always feel at home. You’ve never felt as loved and cherished as you do in this moment right here, with your darling husband who you know would go to the ends of the world to ensure you and your possible future child are safe.

“Not as much as I love you.” There’s a sparkle in his ocean coloured eyes as you say these words, a depth of devotion you could drown in.

“That’s impossible.”

💋 Join my Kinktober Taglist 💋

Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon Taglist: @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @kandis-mom @buggy14 @opheliastark @auntiegigi @alovecraft @cinnxbunny @zincxxx @cultofcarter @rose-alyssa @kaitlin013106 @wandas-gurlfri3nd @beautifulrare4leafclover @queenyamimarrero @littlerya @noobzandboobzandhooz @wanda2themax @lonelywolfheart @Kbananaclip14 @depressed-gays-of-marvel @ur--mommy @jollyfirebattrash @lauratang @casa-boiardi @raging-panda @nicoline1998enilocin @melsunshine @stinkerbelle007 @mememe7147 @happycat547 @matchat3a @Sirmeowertheruthless7 @Inlovewithficnalmen @katiemarsblog @irienanicole @buckyisveryhot @littleravengirl @whyamireadingthis @vase-of-lilies @Mrsrogers77 @saltyshluts @Wwhitewolff @buckysdogtagss @mylastnamesyuh @alexandria-fandom @andth3ywereroommates @avalongreene-09 @sargentbarnxes @keira324 @cherryschaos @missusbarnes-rogers @cherriesnwinee @Ellieangelbee @Shirayukiuzukaze @goldylions @elacinnamoon @buckysdollx @mrsmischief209 @capsbestgirl77 @its-just-smut-haha @ironmansson29 @Slutforderekhale @otome-loves-what @jacesswifey @winterslove1917 @black-mistress-of-evil @buckyscumwhore @purple-vegan

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danikamariewrites · 6 months

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Meant to Be

Mob!Azriel x reader AU

A/n: I’m so excited to start this little series! I hope you all enjoy this and thank you for being patient with me. I know I’ve been all over the place lately lol. Also I might change the pov I use in the next fics but we’ll see.

Warnings: none

Series Masterlist

As I’m just about to shut the front desk computer down, the glass door to the gallery swings open. Holding back rolling my eyes, I lift my head ready to tell whoever it is that we're closing. I stop, my lips partially open as my eyes meet the most gorgeous, soft hazel ones. On a beautifully sculpted face with a sharp jawline and soft raven hair. The words died in my throat. Changing to, “How can I help you?”

Gods I need to stop staring. If Feyre was still here she would be making fun of me for ogling the poor male while using my stupid customer service voice. He gives me a bright smile before speaking. “I’m looking for a new piece for my office. The walls are feeling a little bare.” Mother above he sounds like an angel.

I froze again. I’m technically not supposed to be selling paintings to clients, especially walk-ins and new ones. But my boss left me in charge for the rest of the day. It’s Gavin’s own fault he blew off work for a spa day. And I had to help Gavin list all the paintings, so I can absolutely sell one of these bad boys. I was amazed by how much Gavin didn’t know when these paintings came in. And he has the audacity to call himself an art collector.

“Absolutely. Are you looking for anything specific or I can show you a few of my favorite pieces if you’d like.”

As I stand I look around the room to see if anyone else is in the gallery. Two males with similar tan skin and dark hair stand by the door. The more muscular one slightly smirks at me before staring ahead again. I look back at the male in front of me, taking in his suit, the expensive watch, and the thick silver signet ring on his index finger gleaming in the light. Staring at the ring closely I can make out a family crest engraved on the flat surface. Morwood.

The male standing in front of me is notorious mob boss Azriel Morwood. Recovering quickly I smile up at Azriel, burying any kind of fear that was working its way up my spine. He isn’t here to hurt me. He’s here to buy art. Harmless.

Relaxing, I walk around the desk, gesturing to the left of the gallery. “This way then.” Azriel holds out his arm for me to take, that bright smile never once leaving his lips. Although it might not be the most professional thing to do, I loop my arm through his.

As we go from painting to painting Azriel seems to relax as well. We fall into easy conversation. At times it feels like we were childhood friends catching up. His flirtatious comments made me blush and fumble over my words. At the risk of being unprofessional again, I flirt back. There’s no denying the male is beautiful. I’m sure he’s kind under all of those dangerous layers. I can’t help the pull I feel toward him, to know more about Azriel. I should feel ashamed of this attraction. Azriel has done awful things but that feeling isn’t taking over.

“And that’s it for this collection. Is there anything else that’s caught your eye?” I ask, regretfully pulling away from Azriel as I snap back into my customer service voice. A stark contrast to the normal flirty tone I was just using. He seemed to take his time thinking. Azriel’s hazel eyes seem to twinkle as he looks at me. “That Blanch piece, I loved the two you showed me.” “Of course.” I lead him to the middle of the section where the two paintings hang side by side.

He looks at the two trying to decide between the two. “Which is your favorite?” I look at him, taken aback by Azriel Morwood asking for my opinion. “Well…I can’t choose between the two. Truthfully, I believe Blanch created these pieces to complement each other. They’re from two different collections but you can tell by the edge of the scenery they are meant to be together.” Azriel let out a thoughtful hum as he crossed his arms.

I try not to stare at him too blatantly but I just can’t help myself. His thinking face is cute. I can tell he’s concentrating. “I’ll take both.” My eyes widened. I'm so shocked I took half a step back. “I’m sorry?” I realize that it came out harsher than expected. “Sorry, I just - really? You want to buy both?” A half smile tugs at the corner of his lips as Azriel turns to face me. “If they are meant to be together it would be a crime to separate them.” There was something insinuating in that seductive tone of his. The hopeful look in his eyes gave it away. Something told me Azriel rarely let something like that slip. I give him a genuine half smile of my own. “Of course.”

Fifteen minutes and one giant check later Azriel had bought his paintings with the promise to come pick them up after they were framed tomorrow. Finally closing the gallery I went home and dreamed of him that night.

——

Walking down the sunny streets of Velaris I’m lost in thought about Azriel. How I want to run my fingers to see if those raven locks are truly as soft as they look. Those hazel eyes and how I never want them to lose sight of me.

My phone incessantly buzzing in my bag pulls me from my thoughts. I groan as I search for it in the clutter of stuff I threw in this morning. Fifteen texts from Feyre and more incoming light up the lock screen.

Girl get here soon

Gavin is piissseeddd

What did u do lmao

He won’t tell me, plz tell me so I know before him. I wanna taunt him with this secret info

Oh boy. He must not be pleased about the new client. I quickly type out a text telling her I’d be there soon. Shoving my phone back in my bag, my pounding heart seems as loud as my footsteps. I’m practically jogging by the time I enter the gallery.

Feyre looks up at me from the desk. A wild and confused look is on her face like she was just handed the winning lottery ticket. “He’s been on the phone with Benny all morning. I could hear him screaming, what did you do?” A nervous laugh sounds on the last word.

As I open my mouth to answer the door to Gavin’s office flings open, hitting the wall inside with a violent thud. “You!” He seethes. “Why didn’t you call me about the client last night?!” He screeches as he stomps over to the desk like a child. “What was I supposed to do? Say, sorry, come back later? It was Azriel Morwood.” Feyre lets out a dramatic gasp leaning back in the spinny chair. Her eyes bounce between us, waiting to see what wild statement her ears will be blessed with next.

“I know damn well who the client was, and you’re not supposed to make sales! Remember? Or has your sense of self importance around here made it hard for you to remember that you're a fucking intern! And you have no right —” a throat clearing makes Gavin stop his berating. His face went pale as his eyes landed on Azriel and the two males flanking him.

Azriel raises a brow giving Gavin a quizzical look. Gavin puts on a fake smile striding to greet our guests. “Hello Mr. Morwood! How can I help you today? Is there a problem with your purchase that I can fix?” He shoots me a glare that I don’t notice. All I notice is Azriel. It feels like the whole world has melted away and it’s just us.

“No.” His tone cruel and cold. “I would like to talk to y/n. Alone.” He emphasizes the last word by pinning Gavin with a look that would send anyone running. The shock on Gavin’s face is fucking priceless as he backs away murmuring an apology.

I slowly approach Azriel trying to suppress my grin. He watches me with a gentle gaze. That charming smile pulling on his lips again. “Hi,” Mother above that deep, gravelly voice gives me chills. “Hi.” I whisper back. “Your paintings should be ready soon. I saw the framer when I came in.” Azriel slowly shakes his head. “No, not that. Well, yes, I’m here for the paintings. But I wanted to ask you something.” I blink up at him curiously tilting my head. What could he possibly want from me?

“Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?”

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel #azriel au #azriel x y/n #azriel x female!reader

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jobean12-blog · 8 months

Text

Feelin' Gourd

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,454

Summary: You really want to go on a trip to the farm but not with the girls this year. This year you want your husband to take you and even though he's the boss and busy a lot he always makes time for you, even if it means stepping out of his usual role and being soft and sweet...because for you, he'll do anything.

Author's Note: So I've decided that mob!Bucky is one of my kinks, especially when he's a big softie for his woman. And honestly, he's perfect! So here's my first kinktober '23 story featuring mob!Bucky and his softie side. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always❤️❤️❤️ and Happy October! Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: It's fun and fluffy and sweet and soft!

Steve escorts the men out of Bucky’s office and down the hall. He smiles warmly at you before his face hardens into it’s usual work mask again as he practically pushes the men out the door.

With a soft goodnight to you he shuts and locks the door of your house.

Without waiting another second you skip to Bucky’s office, stopping in the doorway when you see him focused on his phone.

“There you are doll face,” he croons.

He looks up as he sets his phone down on his desk.

“Work done?” you ask sweetly.

“All done,” he says as he holds out his arms for you.

You rush into the room and around his desk, falling against his chest and nuzzling his neck as he drags you onto his lap.

“Mm,” he hums appreciatively as you wrap yourself around him.

He kisses your temple, taking your face in his hands before pulling your mouth to his. The kiss starts out sweet and soft but swiftly grows deeper as his fingers search for the bottom of your shirt, sneaking beneath to feel more of your skin.

“Bucky,” you breathe out, pulling away enough to look into his eyes.

“What?” he asks, slightly breathless himself. “Missed you today.”

He gives you his best boyish smirk, the one reserved only for you, and it makes your heart flutter.

“Missed you too,” you whisper, peppering his check with butterfly kisses, “but…”

His lips find yours again and your words are lost against his mouth, his hands dancing higher until he’s toying with the clasp of your bra.

He unhooks it with ease and starts to peel it off under your shirt.

“Buckyyyy,” you pout.

“Doll,” he groans as his hands roam over your newly exposed skin.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

He stops his caresses, giving you a disgruntled look.

Your expression falls and he immediately brushes his thumb across your lips, cradling your cheek and drawing you closer.

“No, none of that now baby doll. I’m sorry. Talk to me.”

You instantly brighten and he growls out a mumbled curse, knowing you totally got one over on him. With a bright and triumphant smile you toy with his tie, mindlessly adjusting it as you begin to talk.

“I want you to take me pumpkin picking.”

His eyes widen and he blinks several times. “Pumpkins? Like on a farm?”

You nod excitedly, bouncing in his lap. “YES! We can pick our own to carve and get some for the front of the house and even get apple cider donuts and hot apple cider and take home a pie or pick apples to make a pie and maybe even go for a hay ride!”

Your enthusiastic wave of words rushes out and he can hardly keep up and all the while you’re still fiddling with his tie and the collar of his shirt, smoothing out each until they’re perfect.

“Didn’t you go do this with the girls last year?” he asks softly but with a smile.

“I did,” you start, pouting a bit. “But I want to go with you!”

He opens his mouth to speak but you press a finger to his lips.

“PLEASE! PRETTY PLEASE! PRETTY PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP!”

When you’re done with your pleading he grabs your wrist and holds you finger to his mouth, kissing the tip softly before pushing your other fingers up so he can kiss them all too.

“Of course I’ll take you,” he whispers.

You squeal in delight and kiss him, trying to pull away to tell him more about what you can do at the farm but he keeps you pressed firmly against him as he spins his desk chair and lifts you out of his lap, placing you on the edge of his desk.

When he finally releases your lips you nibble your bottom one, watching as he kneels down, spreading your legs and tugging on your panties.

“Thank you Bucky,” you whisper.

“I didn’t even do anything yet doll,” he teases.

“I meant for agreeing to go pumpkin picking with me.”

“You know I’d do anything to make you happy,” he murmurs, kissing along your calf, his fingers massaging your soft skin as he moves higher.

Bucky struts out of your walk-in closet, adjusting the collar on his shirt before smiling at you.

“Ready doll face?” he asks.

You look him over from head to toe then sashay your way into his arms. “I am…but I think you might need to change.”

He frowns. “Why? I thought my red shirt was good…fall color and all.”

“Oh the red is perfect,” you assure him. “But I’m not sure you need to wear one of your three-hundred-dollar Prada shirts to the farm.”

“Huh,” he muses. “Am I going to get dirty?”

“The pumpkins are sometimes muddy or dirty with soil and there’s lots of dust and vines…if there are horses and other animals there might be…”

“So I should lose my Prada loafers too then?”

He grins, looking slightly sheepish.

“Definitely,” you giggle, giving him a soft kiss. “But the jeans are perfect.”

You step back to let your eyes roam over his thick thighs that are on full display in the tight denim.

He starts to unbutton his dress shirt but you stop him, slowly undoing each button yourself until it hangs open and reveals his tanned and toned chest and stomach. You ghost your fingernails down his skin, watching his muscles flex from your touch.

When you push the shirt from his shoulders you sigh, “why can’t you just go like this?”

He huffs out a laugh and adjusts his belt, drawing your attention to the trail of dark hair that lines his lower stomach and the disappears into his jeans.

“Still wanna go pumpkin picking doll?” he asks wearing an amused and smug smirk.

You slowly drag your eyes up to his and cock your hip out, placing your hand there and stealing your features.

“YES! Now find a tee shirt and hoodie and change your shoes.”

“Where are my hoodies. I thought you stole them all,” he says as he’s walking back into the closet.

“I left you one…maybe two!”

“What about a flannel?” he calls out.

“Perfet,” you reply.

Once he’s dressed in his soft tee and even softer flannel, his feet clad in leather lace up boots you head for the door.

It’s still early when you get to the farm so there aren’t many people around yet. You and Bucky walk hand in hand under the warm sunshine toward the pumpkin patch.

“What are we looking for exactly?” he asks, eyeing the rows of orange squash.

“I want some really big ones for the front of the house! And then we need two for carving and some smaller ones for more decoration. And I want gourds too…they have a lot of different colors and shapes!”

“Am I supposed to carry them all?”

He looks suspicious and when you start to smile he takes you in his arms brushes his lips against yours.

“I will if that’s what you need me to do.”

You melt into him, sliding your arms around his waist. “As much as I’d love to see you trying to carry all these pumpkins, we can just get a wagon.”

You peek around him and point to the red wagons lined up along the fence.

“Phew,” he says with a laugh.

You walk through the patch, Bucky dragging the wagon behind him as you gush over every pumpkin you see, picking them up, inspecting them and asking for his insight. He takes his job seriously, examining each one with thorough precision before giving you his honest review.

“This one is perfect for carving,” he says, holding up the tall but still wide pumpkin with a good flat face.

“It is!” you cheer. “What are you going to carve?”

He stands there, looking from you to the pumpkin. “I have no idea!”

You bend over with laughter, loving to see your husband in such a relaxed state but also taking the pumpkin picking so seriously. He never does anything half-assed.

After he sets the pumpkin in the cart he looks over what you’ve picked so far. “One more?”

You throw your arms around his neck. “I love you so much. I’m having the best time.”

He wraps you in his embrace, nestling his face into your neck. “Love you more doll and me too.”

“Before we pick more can we get some cider and donuts? I’m hungry.”

“Of course,” he says, tucking you under his arm. “I hope they sell these donuts by the dozen. I have a feeling I’m going to want more than one.”

@randomfandompenguin @book-dragon-13 @goldylions @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @lizette50

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #mob au #mafia au #bucky au #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #kinktober 2023

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vivalabunbun · 1 year

Text

Late Spring Blooms

Summary: Not even one word had been spoken between the two of you

Word Count: 5.1K (this was supposed to be short...)

Tags: Alhaitham x gn! reader, slow burn, fluff, just a lot of fluff, slight angst, Akademiya setting, toxic academia environment, mentions of bullying, both of you are students, mutual pining, when you just stare at your crush for like 4 years but never talked to them.

Authors note: This was supposed to be a short feel-good fic, but I guess my brain just wanted to be a nerd. So I included some scientific theories that are kinda in debate, I just gave it my best shot. I write fiction not peer reviewed studies please forgive any mistakes

“A voltage is applied to two electrodes immersed in a solution of heavy water…”

All throughout the lecture hall there were the frantic movements of quills as desperate hands penned down every word that left the lecturer’s mouth. The fluttering of paper as students rushed to continue recording every detail, spurred by the fear of a question on exams yet to be announced.

Rather than immerse themselves in the lecture, they’d rather save the details for a stressful night before said hypothetical exam. Frankly, it was a waste of time.

“When the SuperWave Principle is applied, with raising and falling nested oscillations…”

Yes, this is a waste of time. A waste of his time. Alhaitham’s notebook and quill remained untouched on the desk in front of him. This course was nothing more than an elective to him, it had nothing to do with his own darshan. A class his late grandmother had listed in her well wishes to her grandson. However, Alhaitham would much rather prefer to be reading in the House of Daena.

“And that is the discovery behind cold fusion energy production. This achievement rewarded me with much academic praise and my position as a researcher. As it innovated a new path for clean and unlimited energy. Thank you.”

Applause erupted in the lecture hall, hands clapping together as forged looks of amazement masked ulterior motives. Alhaitham remained still, bored eyes continuing to observe the scholarly man as he stood at the podium. Even from the ashen-haired student’s perch among the upper seats, he can still see the swell of pride in the elder scholar’s chest. As the sea of green uniforms finally abated their praise, the professor step up to the podium.

“Are there any questions for our honored guest lecturer?”

The once bustling mob stilled. No quills moved, no papers rustled, and not a single student dared make eye contact dreading the thought of an unintentional invitation to speak. Of course, this was all expected. After all, which person would dare expose their own shortcomings?

Each and every person in the room was once praised to be la crème de la crème, the cream of the crop, the valedictorians that spoke prepared speeches to their peers they viewed as mediocre. They were all once the top one percent, showered with empty words such as ‘talented’ and ‘gifted’. However, at the Akademiya, where the best of the best had been vetted and admitted. How can everyone be that ‘one percent’?

It’s a simple answer. They can’t. Instead of spirits learning humility, they were crushed under the realization of reality. And just like a curious hand that had reached out towards a burning stove, their egos wounded and withdrew. If they cannot stand among the few slots at the top, then they’d rather hide among the ninety-nine percent. Listlessly carried by the flow of life, throwing their hands up to ‘fate’.

Once again, as Alhaitham’s bored eyes surveyed the room, he is reminded why he had put off attending the Akademiya until recently. It was quite ironic for such an esteemed institution to have such pathetic levels of academic spirit. People didn’t come here to learn, they came here to ‘know’ and for a decorated piece of paper to hang on their walls.

However, on the basis of the last part, Alhaitham saw himself as no different. This was a crucial stepping stone in the preplanned path he laid out for himself. Even if it was tedious, it must be done.

From the still crowd, one lone hand raised above, peeking out from the sea of green berets. It seems that even the professor didn’t anticipate this as a wrinkled hand gestured for the young budding scholar to speak.

“I’m amazed by your discovery, sir. However, does it really work? I don’t think I’ve seen a recreation of your experiment.”

The air in the lecture hall stilled, as hundreds of eyes honed in on the gear that dare squeak. The ego is quite fragile, and there is a positive correlation between the fragility of one's ego and the higher up their position is on the hierarchy. The scowl that formed on the guest’s face was predictable, as his haughty eyes glared at the fresh-faced student.

“It seems that some people are suffering from selective hearing, or perhaps you just couldn’t grasp the concepts I’ve spent the past two hours explaining.” Offense drip off of every word.

“But, according to standard practices, an experiment has to be rep-”

“Did the Akademiya just allow anyone in this year? My theory and discovery have already been entered into the akasha. Even a child can see the validity of my research.” The lecturer tapped one finger rapidly against the solid wood of the podium.

“Still, I beli-”

“Did you not hear me? My research has already been entered into the akasha.” He snapped, the peak of the microphone rang through the air.

“Sir, I-”

The professor raised his hand to silence the student, putting an end to this sorry excuse of an academic debate. The student’s figure sunk down in their seat, their seat neighbors scooting away as if there was something contagious. The show that had piqued the ashen-haired scholar’s interest had been abruptly halted. What a pity.

“Can you believe them? Who would ask such a stupid question?”

“‘Does it work?’, it’s been entered into the akasha for archon’s sake!”

“If I were them, I’d never show my face again at the Akademiya.”

Mindless gossip made his ears ring as a sigh left his lips, snapping the book closed in his hand. Alhaitham thought it was an unspoken rule that one must be silent in the House of Daena, guess common courtesy isn’t practiced much anymore. Carrying the book in one hand as he swung his bag over his shoulder he exits the library doors.

His academic journey at the Akademiya had only begun about a month ago with the start of a new semester, but he was already bored. Lectures dragged the same material on for days. Professors gave their unessential anecdotes to slip in their own self-praises, and the busy work they called assignments.

However, the worst part, for Alhaitham, was how his fellow students and aspiring scholars accepted everything. Sitting there in their seats back straight, hands busy creating a transcript of the entire lesson. Heads politely nodding as if they understood everything even though confusion was clear in their eyes. There were no academic discussions occurring in classes, and there were no attempts to encourage them.

What’s the point when everyone could just use the akasha for answers? It’s quite depressing to see such a lack of academic spirit.

Alhaitham has decided that he should return back to his own method of self-studying, just as he has done before. He can cut out the unnecessary material and focus on subjects that interest him. Paying the tuition just to learn everything on his own, is truly ironic.

However, as Alhaitham walks towards the empty pavilion he has to admit he is grateful for the facilities available at the Akademiya. It was a secluded space, quiet and away from chattering groups, students chasing after mentors and professors with half-heartedly written theses, and scholars’ boastful comments on the results of their experiments. Just as he rested his back against a pillar of the pavilion, he heard a muffled whimper.

Tsk, great, there’s someone here already. Alhaitham readjusted his bag on his shoulder, pushing off the pillar as he began his search once more for undisturbed peace. His teal eyes couldn’t help but wander toward the source of the sound. Sight landing on your crouched figure obscured by the thick trunk of the tree just behind the white structure. For a brief moment, your eyes locked with his, before you jolted your head away from his direction.

Cheeks stained with tears and face burning with shame. Yes, there is a famous saying that tends to ring true: The nail that stands out will get hammered. He recognizes you as the hand that dare raise a question.

Everyone at the Akademiya is fueled by their own self-interest, whether it be for greater knowledge, a higher future position at the institution, or to have their name printed on an accredited research project by a renowned scholar.

Weak egos tend to rally under bigger ones, feeding the latter with empty praises in hopes of a return on their investments. If they could find a footing that allows them to climb up the stairs of the hierarchy, then they were willing to step on anyone.

You just recently have been labeled as such, a stepping stone in order to get closer to a certain researcher. Tearing you down to build the bridges of connection with the reputable graduate. It was low-hanging fruit. How could a naive, freshly admitted student go against a published scholar with wealth and status?

You were the losing dog in this race. And yet, Alhaitham still wanted to applaud you, if not for your academic spirit then for your courage. However, it is clear from the way you were trying to make yourself as small as possible, you needed your privacy.

He focused his eyes on the path ahead of him, leaving the secluded space, his lips won’t speak a word of this event. A little further down the path, teal eyes shifted back behind him. Your hands were wiping the tears out of your eyes as you blinked, perplexed by the sudden appearance of a neatly folded green handkerchief. Alhaitham sees it as a fair trade for piquing his bored mind.

“Excuse me, do you have a translation of the book: Khaenri'ahan Theory of Nuclear Fusion and Practices?”

A familiar voice shifted Alhaitham’s attention away from the text he was translating, perhaps his mind took it as an excuse for his eyes to take a break from the barely legible script. You would think with all the funds the Akademiya had, they would be able to provide students with good-quality copies, but the printed assignment in front of him disproves that notion. It’s not good to strain the eyes.

Once more teal eyes landed on your figure, back straight and head still held up high. You have more courage than Alhaitham originally thought. Despite the mocking sneers that have been thrown your way in the halls, you’ve just faced forward and continued down your way. Currently, you were asking for the assistance of a disinterested librarian.

She brings one hand up to her akasha terminal, eyes lazily gazing at the information that flowed in front of her. Then after less than two minutes of searching, she stops.

“No. Never heard of it. It’s not in the system.”

“It’s an old title, but according to the library catalog, it should-”

“Did you not hear me? I just checked the akasha and it says it’s not here. Maybe you should make use of that terminal collecting dust on your ear before you come wasting my time.” The librarian cut you off rudely. Readjusting the green beret on her brown hair before she turned her back on you.

The hand you reached out towards her drops to your side, your shoulders slouched a bit. There were now peering eyes focused on you, stressed students viewing your embarrassment and dejection as a welcomed dose of entertainment. Taking a deep breath you quickly made your way back in the direction of the dusty library catalog. Determined to find that book.

The librarian had stated a blatant lie, how does Alhaitham know? The book Khaenri'ahan Theory of Nuclear Fusion and Practices was right under his resting elbow.

You were right, it is an old book, so old that it seems that someone had forgotten to input it into the updated database of the akasha. Or maybe someone removed it, deeming it no longer academically relevant. His elbow was now resting on the book he had just finished hours earlier, it was a better use of his time than attending mindless lectures.

You seemed busy flipping through the pages of the library catalog, and the script in front of him is due tomorrow. He’ll finish his assignment, it's the least he could do to just ensure his passing of a class that hasn’t seen his face for some time now.

–

It was late now, your eyes were beginning to droop head nodding back and forth. You shook your head, desperately trying to fight off sleep, eyes peeled on the text in front of you. Your attempts to find the book had been fruitless, but you were able to find different academic journals that substituted the same subject.

You didn’t need sleep, you needed to satisfy that itching feeling inside your mind. That inkling that what that lecturer had said was… the words in front of you blurred.

Maybe a quick nap would help boost your productivity.

–

Your eyes snapped open as your body jolted up. How long were you asleep? Your eyes surveyed the library. All around you were either passed out fellow students at their seats, or those running on nothing but caffeine and stress frantically pressing their noses against the books and papers in front of them. There were fewer people here than before you shut your eyes, signaling to you that it has gotten later.

Your lips pressed into a tight line, did you just lose more precious time? The thought of assignment due dates was pressing against the back of your mind. But you just had to get to the bottom of this, it just doesn’t make sense to you-

Your eyes widened at what had appeared in front of your seat. Khaenri'ahan Theory of Nuclear Fusion and Practices. But how? You had looked high and low, even breaking library regulations by climbing on the tall ladders to search the very tops.

Your head whipped around, searching for an explanation. Your eyes were just able to catch the slightest glimpse of a familiar shade of grey and green exiting the grand doors of the House of Daena.

There was a small note on top of the book.

I had the book you were looking for. There’s a diagram that wasn’t translated properly. On page 520, the diagram says: ‘maintaining temperatures of over 100 million degrees are necessary while regulating pressure and magnetic forces at the same time. These conditions are for stable confinement of the plasma and to maintain the fusion reaction long enough to produce more energy than what was required to start the reaction.’ Hope this helps.

It was silly really, or maybe your tired mind was just getting sentimental, but your sight began to blur again. Not with sleep this time, your eyes were overflowing with tears. This small note, the neat handwriting, the book you had been searching for.

They were the sweet hands of reassurance you needed on your shoulder. Smiling like an idiot through your tears, you hid your face behind the small note.

“How long exactly are they going to continue to deny the facts? Jeez, I wish I had their simple mind sometimes.”

“Yeah, it must be nice to have your head buried in the rabbit hole of ignorance.”

It was now a new year, a fresh semester had long begun, but unfortunately, reputation and stigma don’t have a simple shelf life of just a year. Once more, Alhaitham found that silence in the House of Daena is not seen as a requirement by some students. Mindless gossip had no place in a sanctuary of high academia, but it looks like his opinion isn’t shared.

Alhaitham had woken up later than he would’ve liked, meaning he didn’t have time to pick up any coffee if he wanted to get to his test on time. After he had finished, he made an effort to get to the café as fast as he could. But when he got there, he saw a sign announcing the café was closed for the day.

In short, Alhaitham was having a bad day, the grating voices that continued to chatter beside him were only fraying his thinning patience even more.

Frustrated, his eyes followed their line of sight, to see just what subject was so pressing they had to gossip in a place of study and silence. They lead him to your figure, hunched over a thick book, one finger tracing each sentence line by line and the other detailing notes.

Even with the stacks of books that surrounded your desk blocking some of your frame, he could see your face clearly. Although you were trying to maintain a neutral expression, he caught onto the small quivering of your lips.

“Like the information is already in the akasha, do they think they’re smarter than the combined knowledge of all of Sumeru?”

“Yeah, well it’s always the stupidest people that speak the loudest-”

“You two are quite loud.”

The students that sat beside him snapped their attention towards the man who had returned his eyes back to his book.

“Excuse me?”

“This is the House of Daena, the largest library in all of Teyvat, and you’re being loud. Maybe you should immerse yourselves in some books, for the academic spirit.”

“Jeez, we weren’t even that loud, and the akasha-”

“What poor academic spirit. If the akasha was all you needed, then you are no better than any passing stranger on the streets. Why did you even bother with the entrance exam?”

It wasn’t like Alhaitham to engage in such unnecessary conversation, nor make any excess problems for himself by getting in the bad graces of strangers. However, he was already having a bad day.

The two friends sneered at him, before getting up and leaving the library. Finally, he can enjoy some silence. He could feel your gaze on him, but he didn’t look up to see the soft stare of amazement and gratitude you were sending his way.

–

Alhaitham had gotten up briefly to browse the shelves once again. He had finished his book and am now looking for another to pique his interest. Really, the akasha couldn’t hold the vast amount of unspoken knowledge that books had.

The blunt facts and figures the terminal provided didn’t stimulate his mind the way shifting through the lines and characters printed on books did. It was truly a pity that the nation of wisdom didn’t appreciate the pinnacle vessel of information.

When he had returned to his desk, teal eyes took note of the small square of baklava placed gently on a napkin. Beside it was the green handkerchief, neatly folded. Alhaitham had already gotten a replacement for said item.

Yet seeing how pristine the fabric was even after a year of not seeing it, sentiment crept up on him.

“Excuse me. Food is not allowed in the House of Daena. I’m going to ask you to leave.”

Ah, of course. Alhaitham was having a bad day today.

It’s been a long month. With Summer break quickly approaching, it meant that assignments and exams have been crammed by every professor into a short window. Their long tangents must have caught up to them, as they were now pushing the responsibility of tying up the loose ends onto the students. Pathetic really.

Still, the weather today was clear and the air warm. The bright sun was being blocked out by the thick foliage present on the branches of the tree Alhaitham rested his body against. He had spent the morning finishing all his most pressing assignments. A break was deserved.

The soft rustle of leaves as the wind sway their branches were starting to lull the young man to sleep. But the sudden sound of grass getting flattened under shoes snatched that pleasure away.

Tsk, it doesn’t matter. If he leaves his eyes shut and breaths steady then the other person will sooner or later leave him alone. The steps approached a bit closer then stopped just a bit away. He could hear the rustling of a paper bag and another object getting placed near his side.

As quietly as they could, the footsteps trotted away in a hurry. Once he felt that presence disappear, he lifted his eyelids.

Beside him there was a brown paper bag, the mouth-watering scent of a shawarma wrap wafted into his nose. And the other object? A cup of hot coffee with a small note taped to it.

I’m so so so sorry for getting you in trouble that time in the House of Daena! Please take this as an apology! I got the most popular combination at the shop. Please take care of yourself and good luck with your exams!

P.S. I just wanted to apologize again for getting you in trouble!!

Alhaitham could practically hear the sheer panic and anxiety from the piece of paper. Still, his eyes couldn’t help but soften. He was never the type to hold on to pointless grudges, there was no need for you to agonize over such a minuscule event.

Contradicting his original plans for a nap, he took a sip of the hot coffee. It must be a different blend of coffee beans or a new experimental brewing method, the plain black coffee tasted pleasantly sweet on his tongue.

“Did you hear? I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah, he was a fraudster! I heard he got stripped of his title and even his diploma got rescinded!”

“I… I can’t believe they were right all along.”

In the middle of Alhaitham’s third year at the Akademiya, the unfathomable happened. A young student that had yet to even graduate, a mere third year in the middle of their studies, had disproven an accepted theory. A theory that had gone through vetting by the top review boards, and even entered into the akasha.

After years of long nights and shifting through books long forgotten by scholars, you brought all your evidence and conclusions to the Akademiya review board.

You wagered your entire academic carrier.

Your gamble paid out in full. Your findings were significant enough that the board called for an investigation, for another independent experiment of cold fusion to be replicated. A team of other esteemed researchers was established.

They followed every strict protocol for peer review, following each and every document step by the once haughty researcher to his experiment and theory to the highest standard of academic rigor.

Their conclusion after a four-month trial? Failed experiment after failed experiment to replicate his results? There was no cold fusion.

This caught the attention of the Matra. For all these years where did those experimental results come from? If his research funds were not going toward creating a better and more effective method of using cold fusion to generate unlimited energy. Then where was it? Their findings?

Back into the pockets of a few seats on the review board. Funds somehow found themselves in the hands of scholars that had ‘peer reviewed’ his theory the first time around.

A report from the previously mentioned independent review team detailed his offer of exorbitant amounts of mora for skewed results. That was the final nail in the coffin of his academic carrier.

It was a great loss of face for the higher-ups and for their esteemed institution. They had let fraudulent nonsense enter the akasha, they allowed this nonsense to poison the minds of civilians and students. Punishment was swift. The higher up on the hierarchy of ego you were, the more crushing the fall will be.

Now it was he, the lecturer who had ridiculed you with his eager followers for years, who was ostracized from higher academia.

–

Alhaitham’s eyes followed the noisy crowd as they congregated around your frame. First years watching you with stars in their eyes, questions were thrown your way, asking just how you did it. How did you know? Your eyes light up the same way, as you detailed your research process of debunking that theory.

Overnight, you became a star at the Akademiya. The same people who had once sneered at you were now trying to push their way through the crowd to get your attention. The professors that once viewed you as their most hopeless student, were now asking you to become their mentee. You treated everyone the same without any reservations. Smile beaming as you answered their questions.

“Well, even though I have disproven his theory on cold fusion. I still think it’s an interesting path to explore. Maybe we were just led astray by a red herring. However, I think the most important lesson to gain from this controversy is that every theory should be viewed with some level of skepticism. Until you see the theory actually be put into practice, how will you ever confirm for yourself.”

You have a really radiant smile, Alhaitham notes. It suits you.

It’s too noisy in the halls of the Akademiya. He turns to walk away. Missing the way your searching eyes followed him, lips parted wanting to call out to him. Only to be drowned by the shower of empty words of praise.

“You’re such a gifted student!”

“Wow! I wish I was as talented as you!”

“You’re just a genius!”

Words that dismissed your years of sleepless nights, tearful breakdowns from pressure, and aching wrists from penning down pages upon pages of notes.

Ah, the Akademiya was still the Akademiya. Even your breakthrough that shook the institution isn’t enough to spark a change in the environment that had been solidified in the marble of the building. Your eyes still followed this tall figure even after he disappeared from your line of sight.

Yes, there still was a gust of fresh air that blew through this stale toxicity. You only knew his name… does he even know yours?

It’s finally over, the tedious task of attending the Akademiya has been completed.

Alhaitham can now check that achievement off his list. The collaborative project he had been a part of might have fallen through. But the findings it produced in its short lifespan were fruitful. So much so that it granted Alhaitham a position as a Scribe and a sizable house in the city. More currently, it allowed Alhaitham to meet the last requirement for graduation.

The diploma he holds in his hands right now was the result of his diligence, of just passing every exam with the highest marks despite not attending the class after the first day. Yes, this is the piece of paper he had ‘worked’ so hard for.

All around him, there were families hugging, crying, and congratulating their sons and daughters, sisters and brothers, for graduating. Promises of big feasts prepared at home, or for a celebration in the neighborhood. Friends hugged each other as they said their tearful goodbyes.

Alhaitham stood alone.

From the very start, he was a loner, he knew this and he liked it this way. So why does his chest feel a bit heavy? The path that he had preplanned had no obstacles lining the way, every piece fell where it should have. Alhaitham already knows the answer, but he doesn’t want to admit it.

Joyous occasions can really bring out the most isolating sentiments when there was no one to celebrate with. But that is fine, he’s got boxes of books to pack anyways.

“Um… Excuse me, Alhaitham?”

A voice halts the ashen-haired man’s step. Teal-orange eyes landed their sights on yours. You were dressed in your graduation robes as well, and a decorated cord hung around your shoulders. Signifying your academic accomplishments during your years as a student. Despite the nervousness in your voice, hands fidgeting with the brown paper bag clutched between them, your eyes looked straight into his.

“T-this is for you. It’s a pita pocket from Lambard’s tavern. I… I just wanted to thank you for, well, all you’ve done. I-i know we actually haven’t spoken a word to each other these past few years but- but…” You paused, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Your gestures of kindness and empathy really kept me going. Even during the times when I wanted to give up, your actions really meant a lot to me. So, thank you Alhaitham.” Your eyes were staring back at him with pure sincerity.

The warm late Spring air blew across your faces, tussling his locks as his eyes shifted from the pita pocket in your hands back to your eyes. The slight quivering of your lips signaled to him the anxious wait for his response.

“Now’s not the place to eat.”

“O-oh…” The bag in your hands lowered.

“However, I believe if you were to accompany me to Lambad’s Tavern, I don’t think he’ll deny a paying customer a seat. So, how about it?” The boxes at home could wait.

“Oh?” You looked at him a bit perplexed at the sudden invitation. But it wasn’t long before a beaming smile broke out on your face.

“Yes, I would love to!”

It could have been due to the sweet air, or due to the lustrous look that dawned on your face, but Alhaitham felt that he could breathe easier now.

It was a sunny afternoon, the perfect weather to do nothing at all. His justification for leaving his desk, piled high with new proposals and applications. Without even looking up from his book Alhaitham could sense the presence approaching his direction. His free hand reached up to turn off noise canceling, there was only one person who would come to find him at this secluded pavilion.

“Haitham! I got us lunch from Lambad’s Tavern, the special was pita pockets today!” You held a brown takeout bag over your head, one hand cupping your mouth as you called out to him.

His expression couldn’t help but soften, seeing your figure rapidly closing the distance between the both of you. Your preppy steps stopped just in front of the tall scholar, a small smile gracing your lips as you hid the bag behind your back. Eyes looking at him with anticipation as your back straightened.

Alhaitham closed his eyes as a soft sigh left his lips, snapping the book in his hands closed as his back pushed off the pillar. Taking a few slow steps to fully close the distance. Gentle fingers cupped your cheek as he leaned down to place a tender kiss just below your eye. He can feel you getting on the tips of your toes, pressing your face more into his lips, he knows you can feel the small smile against your cheek.

Pulling his face back, thumb still brushing against your other cheek, his teal eyes observed your smile that rivaled the sun.

“Thank you for the payment, now let’s eat before the lettuce gets all soggy.” You pressed a kiss against his palm. The brown bag reappears from behind you.

“Yes, of course.” He wanted to observe your face for a little while longer.

Perhaps you should start researching the energy that radiates off your smile, Alhaitham is willing to wager that this hypothesis holds more water than any dismissed notions of cold fusion.

Fin~

#alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham headcanons #alhaitham x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin fluff #genshin x you #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham scenarios #genshin angst #alhaitham fanfic #al haitham x you #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham imagines #alhaitham x yn #vivalabunbunfics

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urfavoritegirlkisser · 4 months

Text

"Midnight Rain" II - Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Popstar!Reader

an - wow i did not expect you guys to like this idea so much, if you haven't read part one i would go ahead and read it first before reading this part!! Enjoy!

I don't consent to anyone sharing my work anywhere else, I only post my writing on this tumblr account, do not steal my work

Tags: Fem!popstar!reader, rockstar!Ellie, we're burning slow here my loves, fake dating trope, no outbreak au, angst, slight anxious!reader, Ellie is a little bit of a player and kind of an asshole sorry pookies, lightly proof read, listen to "lucky" by britney spears it literally inspired this entire idea

So apparently you lied to yourself and no one forgot it happened

Two months. It had been two months since you had seen that article and left Ellie’s hotel room, and people couldn’t seem to let it go.

Edits of the two of you filled your for you page, fans brought signs to your shows asking about you and Ellie, and honestly, you were sick of it.

It didn’t help that your management thought it was a great idea because it gained traction for both you and Ellie’s fan bases.

So now you sit in a meeting with Ellie and your managers as they discuss another appearance from the two of you together.

This was your least favorite part of being a pop star, the fame, and your fans were amazing, but most of your choices weren’t your own; they were for the “brand” your management wanted to maintain.

“Sounds good to me” Ellie speaks up, breaking you from your thoughts as you look at her like she has two heads and scoff

“I’m sorry but weren’t you the one telling me that you had your precious reputation to uphold and couldn’t be tied down with anyone?”, you could feel your anger at the situation growing but knew you should keep yourself from completely losing it

“We both benefit from the attention, that’s more important to me than some silly reputation sweetheart,” she says with that infuriating smirk that lets you think for a moment that her words are truthful

“Fine,” you say, “But this is only going to be a thing for a few months, after my tour is over we are over, got it?”

Your managers go over the agreements and discuss appearances before the both of you sign, basically binding yourselves to each other for the next six months.

The first appearance was simply Ellie coming to one of your shows

She hangs out with her bandmates Dina and Jesse in the VIP box where they are visible to the fans attending but are secure enough so they don’t get mobbed and can enjoy the show comfortably.

You make sure to direct most lyrics in the more romantic songs on your set list toward Ellie and can tell that your fans are eating it up.

After the show, your manager escorts you backstage where Ellie is waiting, noticing that it’s visible by some fans lingering in the upper levels.

Your manager pushes you toward Ellie and you plaster on a fake smile, running up to her and hugging her tightly.

Ellie kisses your cheek lovingly and it sends a jolt of sadness through you as you look into her eyes, wishing the look of care on her face was real.

“Smile, people are watching” she whispers into your ear while letting her hand slip to your waist and letting the other cup your jaw to tilt your face to hers.

You shake off the creeping feeling of anxiety at so many cameras on the two of you and smile softly, letting Ellie lead you into a quick kiss before parting and being led back to your dressing room by your manager.

You get back to your hotel that night and scroll mindlessly through your feed of constant videos from tonight, some of you performing, some of Ellie in the VIP box, and plenty of when the two of you met after the show.

You scroll through the comments of fans raving about how happy the two of you look with tears in your eyes

If only they knew

an - I listened to my sad girl hours playlist for this, I hope you enjoyed it!! Now go drink water you girl kissers xoxo

#wlw fanfic #urfavoritegirlkisser #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader

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clownd1ck · 3 months

Text

trouble, j. miller | chapter three

mob!joel miller x fem!reader

chapter summary: you meet your best friend’s girlfriend for the first time, and you’ve never seen someone shit their pants more. and joel is so fucking done with you.

chapter warnings: reader’s sole purpose is to be an agent of chaos, strong language, implication of violence from reader, abby anderson appears guys, javier encourages your behaviour and is so ACHEKUSG, google translated spanish (PLEASE correct me if it’s wrong), no beta again LOL, dare i say it soft!joel??

word count: 1817

{series masterlist}

you’re sat waiting in a cafe, foot tapping against the tiled floor to its own rhythm. the cafe is about a fifteen minute walk away from your college campus, a place that you and georgia had made your second home. the coffee was cheap so that college students could afford it, and you had to admit, it was some of the best coffee you ever had. your favourite iced coffee had just been brought over to you, alongside a cookie that was warm and gooey.

as the door opens and the bell rings, you look up and lock eyes with georgia, sending a smile her way. you’re quick to notice the buff blonde behind her, dressed in a grey shirt and black cargos, her blonde hair in a braid. damn, you’d have to ask georgia for a threesome one day…

“hey, babe!” georgia exclaims, embracing you lightly before letting go as she turns to introduce you. “this is abby anderson.”

you give abby a once over, analysing her body language, her face, her placement in regards to georgia. she appeared intimidating, but her hand was locked with georgia’s. she stood behind your friend, her body relaxed and her breathing even. abby gave you a look that was welcoming, friendly, almost as if she knew who you were and was trying to make a good impression on you.

smart move.

“it’s nice to meet you, abby.” you hold out your hand for her to shake it, and she does so. you notice the slight sweat in her palm, clear anxiety over meeting georgia’s best friend who may or may not have tried to run her friend’s ex over with a car she’s not even legally allowed to drive.

“you…you too.” she stutters out, and they both take a seat as you take a sip out of your iced coffee once you released abby’s hand.

“so, abigail-”

“-abby.” georgia cuts you off, and you give her a look with a scary grin.

“what are your intentions with georgia?”

georgia sighs your name, and gives you a pleading look. “can we please not do this? abby’s been treating me good, better than anyone else i’ve ever dated. please.” her puppy dog eyes win you over.

“fuck, fine. but i just need you to know-” you turn to abby “-you should know this too. if any harm is done, i will be under your bed with a pocket knife ready to slit your ankles if anything happens to her.” you point at georgia. your tone is patronising, mocking abby and you feel like a beast the way you feast upon her fear as she eagerly nods her head.

“good, now that’s out of the way. what do you study?” splitting your cookie in half, your lips forming an ‘o’ shape at the gooey delight, you take a bite out of one of the halves, looking abby dead in the eye.

“m…medicine.” there comes that stutter again, and you have to stifle a laugh because you’re sure georgia has filled her with stories about your behaviour towards anyone who has ever wronged her, but has then cut her own story off with “but she’s one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet once she knows i’m safe with you!”

you do warm up to abby throughout the next hour and a half the three of you are sat in the cafe, and you can tell she feels the same. she’s less tense, her face relaxed and no more stuttering. you see how openly affectionate she is with georgia, how soft she speaks and the admiration in her eyes for georgia’s simple existence. abby anderson is good for her, you can feel it.

the three of you walk back up to your college campus, and you catch the sight of a familiar man and his sexy porsche. joel leans against the car, arms folded over his chest, scowl on his face as he beckons you over with that little movement of his fingers.

you’re starting to feel seduced by that movement.

when you walk over to him, his head meets your level. “i’ve been waitin’ here for an hour.”

your eyebrows furrow, eyes squinting and your lips purse a little. “did you tell me you were here?”

“no.”

your eyes widen, shaking your head “so how the fuck would i know you’ve been waiting for an hour?”

“get your ass in the car.” he commands, and his eyes travel past you and seem to focus on something. you turn your body to meet where he looks, and the only reason why you pick up on it is because him and abby are staring at each other.

“what, have you never seen lesbians before? god, joel, this is embarrassing.” you roll your eyes and get into the passenger seat of his car. you don’t see the nod he gives abby, or the one who she gives back to him, because the second joel is in the driver’s seat, he’s out of the parking lot and driving to the club.

“i told you to only text me with work related things.” he starts, turning a street corner and you lick your lips when his hands clench onto the wheel.

“i do only text you work related things.”

joel gives you a quick look, his face conveying every emotion possible. “askin’ me if i think you’d win in a fight against the shark from ‘jaws’ isn’t a work related question!”

“i don’t see the problem here.” you shrug.

“you asked me at four in the mornin’!”

“and yet you responded, so you can’t complain.” you stick your tongue out at him as you soon pull into the parking lot of apocalypse, and you both get out, with joel opening any and all doors for you.

when you get to the v.i.p. section, you spot javier, and you immediately shout his name. when he turns around, he grins. “mi amor, i missed you.”

“missed you too, honeybunch.” you smile, hopping onto the bar top. “do you think i could win a fight against the shark from ‘jaws’?”

he looks at you, finger tipping up your chin with a smirk. “in a heartbeat, cariño.” his eyes scan your face, flicking back and forth as he takes in your features, and he lets out a low chuckle when you giggle.

“see, javier thinks i could win!” you shout at joel and he grumbles as he makes his way over.

he points at javier. “stop encouraging her behaviour.” he turns to you. “an’ you need to go get ready.” he grabs your hand, helping you jump off the bar top and steadying you as your feet meet the floor.

“goodbye, beautiful!” you wave javier goodbye.

“adios, bonita.” he bids, grabbing your hand from its previous position and gently kissing it, and it suddenly comes to your attention that you would not mind being between joel and javier, one fucking into your cunt and the other with his cock down your th-

“move your ass.” joel’s hand is firm against the back of your neck, but there’s something gentle about the way he touches you, hesitant almost. he guides you to the room with all the dancers in, and you make yourself at home, saying hi to adele, lucy, chelsea, destiny, and the rest of the girls as you get ready for your shift.

____

“i was thinking-”

“that’s not good.” joel cuts you off. you had barged into his office, lying down on his sofa and talking to him like he was your therapist.

your head snaps towards him, mouth agape in shock. “rude!” you throw a decorative pillow at him which he swiftly dodges, even with his back turned to you as he sorts through paperwork. “as i was saying before i was interrupted, i was thinking that you order me pizza.”

joel’s chair swivels round to face you. “an’ why would i do that when i’ve got chefs here?”

you groan. “‘cause i want a real greasy pizza from the place down the street.”

“tough shit, now get to workin’.” you whine at his words, kicking your legs against the sofa like a spoiled toddler as you reluctantly get off of it and walk out of his office.

the rest of your shift goes by in a breeze. it’s not busy tonight, so you spend most of the time by the bar flirting with javier. he even pours you a shot and shows you the blind spot, pulling you close to him when you take the shot like a champ.

the guests tonight were easy. you had gained a lot of money in tips, and you, destiny, and lucy were sat counting your tips at the bar by the end of the night. you were stood behind the bar with javier, leaning your chest against it and you knew he was getting a good view of your ass because you had purposely put yourself in this position.

“mama’s done good tonight!” destiny cheers, throwing her hands up in the air, her knotless braids swinging as she does so.

“same here!” lucy squeals and you join too. you had to have javi recount your money just to make sure you’d done it right.

“feeling like a millionaire already.” the shout causes the girls to laugh, and javier shakes his head with a smile. he gently pats your ass, telling you to go change so you can sleep.

you do as he says, linking arms with destiny and lucy as you change into your original clothes once you get back to the dancer’s room. you’re sat with adele, your head resting on her shoulder like a child with her mother when joel’s voice baritones through the door demanding you.

you give a swift kiss to adele’s cheek, bidding your departure to the girls before stepping out of the room.

when you look at joel, you catch sight of something in his hands. a medium sized pizza box, the order written on the top. just a plain cheese. you feel a smile itching its way onto your face because he probably did it based off the basics but a cheese pizza was your favourite kind.

“i did this so you’d shut up for once in your damn life.”

“you love when i talk.” you grab the pizza box out of his hands. “thank you.”

his hands return to the back your neck, but this time you swear you feel his fingers gently stroke the skin but you don’t want to say anything, too scared he might strip you of your pizza privileges.

so you prevent the quip of your lips ready to perk up, swallowing down your happiness as you make your way to his car, and start to wonder if maybe you should annoy him more often if it meant you got free food.

yeah, maybe you should.

____

a/n: reader who does not give a fuck and says what she wants x joel who’s just trying to commit a life of crime but there’s a menace in his way (ft. javier peña seducing reader and reader flirting with him)

btw guys if u want to be added (or taken off) my taglist pls let me know!! and if ur name is in white it’s bc i couldn’t find ur blog :((

taglist:

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller au #joel miller smut #mob!joel #mob boss!joel

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urdepressedslut · 10 months

Text

You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part eight❞

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: After a surprise visit from Pierce, tension arises as he threatens Bucky of his job. Pierce wants to have a talk with you and it doesn't go very well.

♡ Warnings: language, heavy angst, threats, stalking, abuse, fluff, pierce (yes— he's a warning), bucky literally being the loml

Part 9

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au

Bucky thought he had experienced true fear before— but that was before he was staring into the eyes of a very powerful man. A man who was looking at him with a knowing look— like he knew something Bucky didn’t. Truthfully, he wouldn’t of been nervous if he didn’t already feel indifferent about the man. He also was still in the state of mind from the kitchen. He was about to reveal the stalker secret to you. He would’ve too— if it wasn’t for Pierce.

Like he said— what shit timing.

“Sir, this is unexpected. Everything okay?” Bucky started, keeping things casual.

He had to remember to fall back into a professional bodyguard mindset— not the soft side that he had somehow brought out with you. He found it rather disappointing to hide that part of himself away— he supposed he had to though.

Pierce smiled even wider, motioning with his hand behind him— further into the house.

“Please— let’s talk inside. Too many listening ears out here.” Pierce insisted, waiting for Bucky to step aside to let him in.

Pierce wanted to scoff at the thought that Bucky would keep him out— this house was his. A gift, of course to you— but he owned the house.

Bucky shut the door, not before he got a glimpse of the men outside. All were unfamiliar faces— he wasn’t surprised. Pierce was so cutthroat, he wasn’t shocked if he had to get rid of the weak ones.

Bucky followed Pierce into the living room, sitting down in the couch opposite of him. It was silent for a moment, Pierce just staring at Bucky— like he was trying to get a read on him. The stare only made Bucky uncomfortable— and rather annoyed.

“Mr. Barnes do you think I’m an imbecile?” Pierce broke the silence, startling Bucky with the straightforwardness.

He shook his head, swallowing before speaking.

“No sir.”

“Do you think things can happen without me knowing?” He asked him another question, crossing his legs and leaning back— almost in amusement.

Bucky furrowed his brows, trying to see where this was going but otherwise kept answering.

“Probably not.”

“No— they can’t.” Pierce corrected him. “Mr. Barnes I like you. I respect what you’ve been through.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at his word choice, the line between what he could take and what was sensitive territory— Pierce was dancing on that line.

Pierce found a sick satisfaction watching Bucky’s jaw clench— knowing he still held all the power. He was tracing Bucky’s weak spots with a knife and he didn’t know it.

“But I have a problem with certain bodyguards that forget their place. You do see where I’m going with this, right?” Pierce asked accusingly.

Bucky furrowed his brows in confusion, not sure what he was talking about— all he knew is that Pierce didn’t look the happiest.

“I’m afraid not sir.” He answered him carefully.

Pierce glared at Bucky for a moment, looking him up and down— like he was sizing him up.

“Then let me make myself very clear,” He leaned forward, “My daughter is not to know about certain things— i’m sure you know what i’m talking about.”

He paused and glanced to the direction of the stairs, careful not to let you hear. Bucky watched as Pierce called in one of his men. He whispered a few things him before the man started walking up the stairs.

Bucky felt his body tense up, feeling unsure about this man that you didn’t know— he didn’t know head upstairs.

“Mr. Barnes, I’m quite aware that you feel it’s only right that my daughter knows about this whole childish stalker situation. You don’t need to try and deny it— I have ears everywhere. Like I said, I find out about everything.” Pierce stated.

Bucky felt uncomfortable, knowing he’d been semi caught— though he hadn’t admitted to anything. Though he felt he didn’t have to, Pierce seemed to know more than he was letting on. But how?

He wasn’t sure why but he felt angered at the way Pierce was trying to control everything. You thought this was your safe haven— this house. But it was more like a jail— at least that’s how it felt right now to him.

“You put cameras in your daughters house or something?”

Pierce’s jaw twitched at Bucky’s boldness, but otherwise kept a poker face.

“No— but that’s a great idea. I’ll put it on the list.”

Bucky wanted to roll his eyes so badly at his sarcasm. He wanted to test the waters a bit, knowing deep down it wasn’t a good idea— but he had to try. For your sake.

“With all due respect sir— shouldn’t your daughter know about a stalker… specifically one that’s after her?” Bucky asked, keeping his voice quiet as to not challenge Pierce any further.

To Bucky’s surprise, Pierce nodded— actually taking a second to think of an answer.

“Honestly Mr. Barnes— no. If I can catch whoever is behind this and eliminate the threat before she ever finds out… she doesn’t have to worry about a thing.” Pierce explained, and Bucky was not surprised by the answer.

Annoyance bubbled up again, forcing him to defend you. He usually wouldn’t stop himself but it was the big boss he was talking to— he had to watch his tongue.

Pierce narrowed his eyes, analyzing Bucky and his posture. The way his jaw would clench every time you were brought up— the way Bucky looked ready to pounce despite his calm demeanor.

“Mr. Barnes I understand if you are infatuated with my daughter— but I hope you know what will happen if you don’t maintain your position as a bodyguard, and try to be something more.” Pierce warned and Bucky felt completely exposed. Pierce knew he’d hit the nail on the head. “All I can say is that it won’t end well for you.”

Bucky nodded his head in understanding but wanted to punch that smirk off his face. Pierce was clearly enjoying Bucky’s inner struggle.

“I get it— you spend all hours, everyday with her. It only makes sense that... something is to be formed. But you better hope that bond, doesn’t become something more. Understood?” Pierce threatened.

Bucky nodded again, slowly feeling his face grow hot. His hands were clenched into fists— his anger consuming his being. It was completely frustrating that Pierce wanted to be a Father now— not when you and him were strangers. He was only now playing the concerned, overprotective Father— but Bucky knew it was an act. Sadly, Bucky knew Pierce didn’t care for you. That much was obvious, and it made Bucky want to punch him even more.

“I apologize if that’s what it looks like to you sir, but nothing has happened or will happen between us.” Bucky promised, although he almost didn’t believe his lie.

“Apologies aren’t worth shit to me Mr. Barnes— either you get your act together or you’ll be gone.” Pierce said lastly, standing up and dusting off his suit.

Bucky swallowed nervously, not exactly the conversation you wanna be having with your boss. He was in a rough spot, and he wasn’t sure what this would mean for his job. He was sure Pierce was already wanting to get rid of him— it wasn’t often that people talked back to him. Bucky had seemed to get lucky this time around.

“You came all this way, just to warn me not to make a move on your daughter?” Bucky asked bravely.

He couldn’t deny the satisfaction at Pierces almost red face, the way his eyes were furious that someone had spoken back to him. Surprisingly again, Pierce took a breath and forced his lips to curve up. Bucky knew that had to be killing him.

“Not quite— I wanted to speak to her as well.” Pierce informed him.

Bucky couldn't hide the distaste from his face, the way he worded it. He wanted to speak to you— not with you. It was so frustrating to hear him speak about you like you were nothing. The way he spoke about you like you were just another one of his clients or someone who is around strictly for business. You were his daughter— it disturbed Bucky that he didn't act like a Father.

"Dad?" Your voice grabbed both of the men's attention, their eyes snapping to the doorway from the stairs. "What's going on?"

You were trailing into the room, glancing behind you skeptically as the man Pierce ordered upstairs followed behind you. Bucky could see how uncomfortable you were from the strange man following you— he couldn't imagine how you felt at the man entering your room if he did. The thought had Bucky clenching his fists more aggressively.

"(Y/n), go back upstairs." Pierce spoke lowly to you, already giving you a cold glare and you had just waked into the room.

You wanted to shrink back at his hostile expression, wondering for the hundredth time why your existence bothered him so much.

"Dad— why is this man allowed to just barge into my room?" You asked, still glancing back at the now smirking guard.

Bucky glared daggers into the guy, wishing his head could explode just by his stare. Man— he wish he could have laser vision right now.

"Don't be such a brat. I ordered him to watch you." Pierce snapped, walking towards you.

You wanted to scoff at his words. A brat? Here you thought you'd be able to talk with your Father— you felt silly now.

"Mr. Barnes, would you please give me and my daughter a minute to talk." Pierce told him, he made it clear it wasn’t him asking.

Bucky hesitantly excused himself, heading towards the stairs to take a seat at the top. Just out of reach to be able to hear. It didn’t help that the guy who had barged into your room was standing at the doorway— staring up at him. Bucky had to ignore the urge to flick the man off.

You walked further into the room until you took Bucky’s seat— sinking into the cushions as you waited for your Father to be seated fully.

Pierce sat and crossed his legs just as he did prior, giving you a once over— almost thinking of what to say.

“How are things?” Pierce asked simply.

The question had caught you off guard. You were expecting to be yelled at— to be asked simply for the benefit of him and his job. Now that he had asked the question you so desperately needed the month of your Mother’s passing. Well… you didn’t know how to react.

“Uh… fine. Everything’s fine.” You barely got out, still shocked from the question.

It was heartbreaking that something so tiny could bring you joy— even if he didn’t mean it. You’d like to pretend even for a moment that he cared about you.

"Peanut, I've come to talk to you about Mr. Barnes." He told you, keeping his voice quiet so only you and him could hear.

You winced from the nickname and furrowed your brows, you felt uncomfortable talking about Bucky when he wasn't around. You wanted him to be with you right now— you couldn't ignore the discomfort from talking with your Father.

"What about James?" You wondered.

Pierce narrowed his eyes at the name you had called him.

"James?" Pierce asked, giving you a judgmental look.

"Father, I didn't want to keep things so formal with him around all the time. I wanted things to feel less forced— so I got to know him better and yeah— I call him James." You explained, twiddling your fingers in your lap nervously.

"Peanut..." You winced again, "He's your bodyguard. Nothing more. You are to stop treating him like he's your friend—"

"Why?" You asked, and Pierce gave you an angered look that had you shrinking back slightly but not backing down completely. "I'm sorry Father, but you can't come here and tell me what to do after ignoring me for months."

You felt proud that you had stood up for yourself— but the mean glare your Father was sending you had you swallowing anxiously.

"Watch your tongue girl." He spit, leaning up in his seat now.

The way he had used girl, was so demeaning. It was almost as if you mean't nothing to him— not important enough to use your name.

"Just take a good second to remember who you're talking to." He warned you and you didn't hide the scoff this time.

The sound left your lips, letting Pierce know his words had annoyed you.

"I know who I'm talking to— my Father!" You raised your voice and stood up, this little moment let you feel bigger— towering over his sitting form.

That was until Pierce stood up now, getting close to you— in your face. You could feel the heat of his breath hitting your face, the burning smell of cigarettes on his breath.

"Exactly! You're my daughter— so you should respect me even more!" He stepped even closer to you, reaching out to grab your arm in a painful grip. "Why do you have to be such a bitch— why can't you just shut your fucking mouth and listen!"

You let out a whine at the grip he had on your arm and suddenly your body filled with fear— fear that your Father was going to hurt you. He already was.

"Father— you're hurting me.." You said clearly, trying to keep your voice even.

"You wonder why I don't want you around— do you not see how you act? Disrespectful fucking brat! I do all these nice things for you— I buy you a fucking house! I provide you with everything you need!" He attempted to keep his voice hushed but the sound was starting to echo throughout the space.

"Father—"

You were suddenly cut off, your head whipping to the side— your cheek stinging. Your mind felt hazy— fuzzy with confusion as you tried to understand what had happened. You just needed a moment to process everything. Through the blood pounding in your ears and the sudden blurriness from your oncoming tears— you had come to the realization.

Your Father had hit you.

You could still hear him talking, but it was all muffled. You were in shock and your body felt frozen, your chest felt like it couldn't expand. At last— you swore you felt your heart shattering and falling to the pit of your stomach. You felt your body jerk into your Father, and thats when your senses seemed to come back to you.

"Are you even listening to me?!" He screamed, pushing you back by your arm— watching you fall to the ground with a yelp.

Bucky had heard from the other room as the conversation— if he could even call it that— increase in volume. He was proud of you for standing up to him— and it felt odd to hear you speak so aggressively. He'd never heard you speak in any other tone that wasn't your usual light angelic voice.

He could hear the clear emotions straining your voice, and he had to hold himself back from running up to Pierce to tell him off.

He had done well to keep himself sat on the stairs, but as soon as he heard you utter the words, father you're hurting me— he got up immediately. He was on his way down the stairs when he heard the loud smack, and the sudden yell from you followed by the sound of a loud thud.

Pushing past the guard that was attempting to watch the doorway, he rounded into the room— his heart breaking at the sight in front of him.

You were laying on the floor, cowering in fear as tears poured out of your eyes. The way you looked so small and terrified as Pierce towered over you, still screaming at you. Bucky didn't think twice and ran over to you, standing in front of you to block Pierces path.

Pierce halted his yelling, and glared angrily at Bucky. Bucky continued to stare him down as he heard Pierce's men enter the room— all surrounding the boss. Pierce let out a dark chuckle— shaking his head in disappointment.

"Who are you to stop me from speaking to my daughter?" Pierce snarled, his men circling around him and you.

"I'm a man doing his job sir— following your orders to do whatever it takes to keep her safe." He snapped back bravely, repeating his words from the first day of meeting each other.

Pierce narrowed his eyes and remembered very clearly at his demand to do whatever it takes to keep you alive and safe— he just didn't think it would be used against him. He kept quiet for a moment, not wanting to admit defeat to Bucky.

"You've got big balls Mr. Barnes— but that might've just cost you your life." Pierce threatened with a smile.

Suddenly there was movement heard from behind Bucky and before he could turn to investigate— you were now standing in between Bucky and your Father.

Bucky's heart swelled at you trying to protect him— he couldn't get over how precious you were. Your heart too big for your body.

"Father— just leave. You've caused enough damage." You spoke calmly, but Bucky could see your body still shaking.

Pierce stared down at you, watching your lip quiver and he almost smiled evilly at the sight. He'd let you believe you won— let your guard down for now.

"Sure thing peanut." He cooed, and you had to fight back the sob that threatened to bubble up.

The nickname was tainted— things that happened today burned into your brain. You wished you could wake up from this horrible dream.

Just as Pierce was waving off his men, signaling to them to go outside. He glanced up to Bucky— not wasting another breath on him. Lastly, Pierce lifted his hand like he was going to reach for you and he felt satisfied watching you flinch back into Bucky.

You gasped and pressed your back to Bucky— your heart pounding in your chest at your Father. Bucky felt your form shaking and he rested his hands on your lower back, hoping it'd bring you some comfort.

"Pathetic." Pierce mumbled as he walked out of the room— making it to the front door and slamming it as he exited.

Bucky felt your body jump at the slam of the door but otherwise noticed you relax as it was just you two in the room now. He walked around to your front, his hands hovering over your cheeks as he waited for your permission to touch you.

"Can I?" He asked.

You nodded numbly and relaxed as you felt his hands cup your face— cradling your cheeks with such gentleness.

Bucky turned your face slightly to the side so he could get a better view of your now irritated cheek, a palm sized mark covering the smooth skin. He winced and anger immediately started bubbling up from the idea that Pierce had put his hands on you— hurt you.

"Oh doll... I'm so sorry— I should've been there." He whispered, rubbing a gentle thumb over your swollen flesh. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You gazed into his eyes and listened to him apoligize— you wanted to laugh. He had nothing to be sorry for. He stuck up for you— protected you from your own Father. He was a constant by your side and you were happy to have him here with you in this moment. There was no one else you'd rather be with than him.

Your heart started beating fast again, but this time it wasn't from fear or anxiety— it was from the intense butterflies in your stomach from Bucky's gaze. Your eyes darted down to his mouth before they whipped back up to his eyes. Bucky noticed and gave your mouth a once over before he met your glossy eyes.

"Doll..." He warned, though he wanted the very same thing.

He just didn't think it was the appropriate time. You were vulnerable, and he didn't want to take advantage of you.

His warning had you thinking straight and you shook your head, but you still found yourself leaning in. Bucky watched as you leaned in and he kept himself rooted in his spot— making sure you controlled the pace. If this was going to happen— it was because you wanted it to. This would be for you— not him.

To his surprise, he didn't feel your soft lips on his— but instead he felt the plumpness of yours smush against his stubbled cheek. It was quick but held so many unspoken words. As you pulled away, your cheeks were flushed— as was his.

"You don't need to apologize, you were there for me. You're here for me now— so thank you James." You whispered hoarsely, emotions thick in your throat.

Bucky opened his mouth to say something, when you removed yourself from his hold and excused yourself upstairs. He watched with a heavy heart as you walked up the stairs, head hung low. It was clear that you were exhausted from todays events. Just thinking of everything that had happened to you, had his blood boiling all over again.

He couldn’t get the sound of your frightened yell out of his mind— it scarred him and he cursed himself for not being there to prevent it. He heard you— you didn’t think he needed to apologize. But he couldn’t just live on knowing you held the palm sized mark of your Father on your cheek. He felt absolutely terrible and followed shortly behind your form.

He knew you shouldn’t be alone right now— he also wasn’t going to leave your side. You needed someone— needed him. Bucky wanted to remind you that he wasn’t going anywhere.

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