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tongue-like-a-razor · 6 months

Text

Ex Appeal

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin gets a frightful visitor on Halloween.

CW: Angst, fluff, suggestive themes, alludes to past cheating

WC: 3500+

This fic was written for @roosterforme’s Rocktober challenge! Inspired by the song Poison by Alice Cooper.

Masterlist

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jake says with a look of disgust – as much of it as he can muster. You, after all, have been his greatest source of misery as of late.

You give him a dirty look – your specialty – and barge into his home as though you own the place and Jake’s just a goddamn doorman. “I need to lay low for a bit.”

Jake narrows his eyes as he turns to face you. He keeps the door open because he’s still hoping you’re going to leave any minute. “Lay low?” he asks mockingly. “What’d you do? Commit murder?” He wouldn’t be surprised.

You peek around his arm to glance out at the street. “Someone’s looking for me.”

Jake watches you impassively. “Is it the police?” Then, after a moment, he adds, “Is there a reward?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re the only one in this neighbourhood that I trust,” you say, pushing on the door that Jake is obstinately keeping open.

Jake nods. “Shame that trust doesn’t go both ways,” he comments contemptuously.

You eye him irritably. “Close the door.”

“Tell me why you’re here.”

“I just did.”

Jake shakes his head. “You could not have been more vague.”

You sigh. “Close the door and I’ll tell you.”

Jake exhales warily and shuts the front door. He surveys your outfit. “What are you wearing?”

You glance down at your ensemble: a black, form-fitting body suit and fishnet stockings. You’re also sporting knee-high boots and you’ve got what looks like six extra arms coming out of your back. You look back up at him with an annoyed expression on your face. “It’s Halloween,” you snap defensively.

Jake grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” He gestures to a cauldron full of candy sitting near the front door. “There’s gonna be a fuck-tonne of children coming through here trick-or-treating in like half an hour and you’re dressed like a gothic porn star.”

Instead of being offended, you lift your eyebrows in surprise. “You’re handing out candy?”

Jake sighs and places his hands on his hips, fixing you with a stern look. “Yeah, I’m handing out candy. That’s what adults do on Halloween.”

You stare at him as a smile materializes on your face. “Is that your costume?” you ask facetiously, gesturing at his checkered polo shirt. “Adult?”

Jake squares his jaw to mask the fact that he found your joke humorous, but you seem to notice the shift in his features because your own grin broadens. “My mom got me this shirt,” he says.

“Ah,” you respond. “A fellow adult.”

Jake tears his gaze away from you, focusing instead on the shiny, pointed toes of your stilettos. “Why’re you here?” he asks again, this time a lot less peevishly and a lot more grimly.

You bend down to unzip your boots. “I’m a spider,” you say. “Black widow.”

Jake glances up to meet your gaze as you straighten up. He nods. “Suits you.”

You give him a flat look. “I was at the bus stop and some dude started harassing me.”

Jake’s eyes trail down your scantily glad body. “You don’t say,” he remarks sarcastically.

Your jaw drops in outrage. “Are you victim blaming?”

Jake chuckles and shakes his head. “It was a joke.”

You cringe. “It was in poor taste.”

Jake closes his eyes and lets out a tired sigh. He’s had about enough of your attitude. “You wanna talk about poor taste?” he asks. “Where’s that lovely boyfriend of yours?”

You watch him sourly. “We’re not together anymore, if you must know,” you reply.

Truth be told, Jake probably didn’t need to know. But, now that he does, it’s only fitting that he respond with, “Shocking.”

You give him the finger. As if he were the one who’d been dating two people at the same time.

There’s a knock on the door. “Fuck,” he mutters, giving you a moody look. “Hide,” he says. “Unless you’d rather traumatize a bunch of eight-year-olds.”

You grimace at him. “You think eight-year-olds haven’t seen worse?”

Jake scans the low-cut neckline of your costume. He can’t think of anything more erotic if he tried. But, if he’s being honest, it’s not the outfit so much as your insane body that’s the culprit. He reaches out to grab your hand and pull you aside, making sure you’re tucked safely behind the door before opening it.

He smiles down at the two little kids on his porch when they yell, “TRICK-OR-TREAT!” at the top of their lungs.

“Well, well, well,” he says cheerily, bending down to grab a handful of candy out of his cauldron. “Who do we have here?” He puts the candy into one of their bags. “Are you a mermaid?”

The girl nods happily.

Jake wows in amazement. “You’re the prettiest mermaid I’ve ever seen!” He bends down to grab another handful of candy and drops it into the second child’s bag. “And you must be Iron Man!” he exclaims. “That’s one cool costume, bud. You look great!”

When Jake finally closes the door and looks at you, he sees that you’ve got your arms folded over your chest and a giant smirk on your face.

“What?” he asks darkly.

Your smile widens. “That was cute.”

Jake takes a step from the door and looks away from you. He’s not about to get sucked back into your web of lies, no pun intended. “You wanna hand some out?” he asks.

“I thought you don’t want me traumatizing the children,” you respond sarcastically, stepping out of the corner toward him.

Jake glances at you with a small smile. “I can give you some clothes, if you like.”

You wiggle your eyebrows. “Adult clothes?”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Come on, before more kids show up.”

He makes his way into his bedroom and grabs a pair of jogging pants and t-shirt and brings them back out for you. “Bathroom’s down the hall,” he says.

“I remember,” you respond, but you’ve already started to remove your bodysuit.

Jake turns away in alarm and holds out the clothes for you. “Do you?”

“Come on, it’s not like you haven’t seen it all before,” you say. “Shoot, I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Jake groans. “Are you for fucking real?”

“You got a pair of boxers?”

Jake swallows uncomfortably. “Hold this,” he instructs, keeping a hand over his eyes as he hands you the crumpled clothes and starts back for his bedroom.

“You know what? I’ll just go commando.”

Jake takes a deep, cleansing breath and turns back toward you. He keeps his eyes closed and holds a hand out so as not to bump into anything as he walks. Of course, as luck would have it, he stumbles into you.

“What the fuck, dude?” you exclaim as his hands cling to your naked body, steadying you so you don’t fall over.

Jake squeezes his eyes tightly so that they don’t open inadvertently. “Sorry, sorry!” he winces, finally stabilizing both himself and you. He feels the softness of your skin underneath his palms as his hands do a final sweep along your back before he lifts them away from your body with a grimace. He’s bracing himself for a punch in the face.

“Are you a dumbass? Open your eyes!” you screech. “You’ve seen me naked how many times?!”

“Twelve,” he responds, a little hoarsely. All he can think about is how smooth your skin felt in his hands not a moment ago and it’s driving him a little mad.

“It was a rhetorical question,” you say pointedly. “You counted?”

“Are you decent yet?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“I’m never decent,” you mutter under your breath and Jake can’t help but smirk. “But if you’re asking whether or not I’m dressed. Then, yes, I am.”

Jake releases a heavy sigh and opens his eyes cautiously.

You scowl at him. “What, you think I’m tricking you?”

“Well, you aren’t treating me.”

You stare at him coolly. “You’re such a delight. Can’t imagine why we ever broke up.”

“Need a reminder?” he calls as you make your way back into the front hall. “It’s because you cheated on me!”

You’re standing at the front door with your arms crossed. “I didn’t cheat, for the last time,” you retort. “We weren’t exclusive.”

Jake presses his lips into a thin line. “I was exclusive.”

You shake your head in frustration. “Let’s just agree to disagree.”

“Fine.”

“Great.”

There’s another knock on the door. You sigh irritably and reach for the doorknob.

“Hello!” you exclaim enthusiastically the moment the door is open.

The mob of children on Jake’s doorstep all look up at you with exuberant grins and yell their opening line in a loud, messy chorus.

You react with an animated gasp. “Oh my goodness! You guys are a frightful bunch!”

The kids laugh. Indeed, they’re dressed as zombies, ghosts, and vampires, and, when you comment on their appearance, they growl and make scary faces at you. Jake smiles at them and then at you as you distribute the candy from the cauldron excitedly.

Once the door is closed, however, you drop the act, giving him an icy look as you settle yourself on the little bench near the door.

Jake fights the urge to sit next to you and maybe get a little lost in the smell of your perfume. He still gets a whiff of it from time to time when he walks by his closet. Which reminds him –

“I have your sweater,” he says awkwardly.

You glance up at him coldly. “Well, why didn’t you give it to me? It’d probably look better than this.” You tug on the hem of the t-shirt he gave you.

Jake doubts it; the fact that he could see your nipples through the fabric of his own shirt is even more of a turn on than your low-cut bodysuit had been. But he responds with, “Probably. But I’m not about to let you change again.”

You snort. “Fair.”

Jake wonders just how detrimental sitting next to you might be to his personal journey of recovery. He figures that you also would prefer that he stay as far away from you as possible. Ultimately, however, he decides that it’s his bench, after all, and that he’ll be sharing it with you and not the other way around. And, with regard to getting over you, well, he can try again tomorrow.

Jake makes his way over to the bench and you eye him cautiously as he approaches. Silently, you slide to make room for him. He gulps nervously and lowers himself onto the seat beside you.

“What were you doing at the bus stop, anyway?” he asks, staring down at his own clasped hands because he can’t handle looking at you when you’re sitting so close.

“Frank and I were on our way to a party,” you respond sullenly.

Jake glances up at you despite himself. “Thought you two broke up.”

You meet his gaze and promptly look away – apparently, you’re not too keen on engaging in eye contact at this proximity either. “We did,” you say curtly. “About an hour ago.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “An hour ago?”

“We had a fight on the way. I hopped out of the car at a red light.”

Jake leaps out of his seat. “Are you crazy?” he exclaims. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

You give him an amused look. “Don’t you fly jets for a living?”

Jake gapes at you incredulously. “I trained for that,” he retorts.

You let out a small laugh. “You’re right,” you reply. “I should’ve practiced first.”

Jake draws a hand over his mouth. “Okay, so you got out of the car in the middle of traffic,” he says with a wince. “And he, what? Just let you go?”

You shrug. “Wouldn’t you?”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “In what you were wearing? I wouldn’t even let you go to the bathroom by yourself.”

You stare at him with a grin. “That’s a bit excessive.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “How many guys made passes at you before you finally decided that taking the bus home wasn’t the brightest idea?”

You lower your gaze without responding.

“As if that douchebag just left you,” Jake says angrily.

“Well, I wasn’t being very nice.”

“There’s a surprise.”

You eye him dangerously.

“You could’ve gotten hurt,” Jake says. “This isn’t the safest neighbourhood.”

You suck in your cheeks and nod. “Yeah, I was pretty freaked out actually,” you admit. “There was a group of guys following me and they kept making lewd comments. When I got to the bus stop, they sort of surrounded me…”

You trail off and Jake’s hands curls into fists of their own volition. “I could kill your boyfriend.”

“Ex,” you remind him.

“Whatever,” he says. After a moment, he asks, “Are you okay?”

You nod. “I pretended to call someone – you actually,” you say with a laugh. “I had a whole fake conversation with you on my way over. They lost interest in me after a little while and took off.”

He watches you solemnly. “You could’ve actually called me,” he says.

Your face turns skeptical. “Right. And you’d pick up?”

Probably not. “Of course,” he responds. Then he sighs and shakes his head. “Maybe I wouldn’t.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

Jake sighs and sits back down beside you.

Several more groups of trick-or-treaters come and go and you and him take turns answering the door. Occasionally, both of you jump up at the same time and end up oohing and aahing in unison at the various costumes that grace Jake’s doorstep.

This activity does little to help quell the feelings he’s tried for months to repress. He remembers grudgingly the night he told you he was falling for you and you telling him that you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment. That’s when he found out that he wasn’t the only one you’d been seeing.

In your defense, it’s not something you had been actively hiding. In fact, you probably thought that Jake was also sleeping around, given his reputation. But Jake caught feelings like an idiot and was heartbroken when you finally showed your cards.

He spent nearly a year convincing himself that you’re absolute scum. Yet, here you are, looking cute as a button in his joggers and t-shirt, laughing giddily at the neighborhood children like you’re some kind of sweetheart. Like you could fool him now.

Jake slumps back down on the bench, trying to interact with you as little as possible. He can sense that you’re starting to win him over again, and he can’t have that happen. He will not be seduced.

You sit beside him with a grand sigh and lean your head back against the wall. “You get a lot of kids here,” you say lightly.

“Mm-hm,” he hums, bending forward to rest his arms on his legs.

“I’m getting hungry,” you say. “You?”

Jake closes his eyes. The last thing he needs is a fucking dinner date with you. “There are some leftovers in the fridge. You can go heat some up for yourself.”

You lay a hand on his back and Jake goes rigid. “You’re not going to eat?” you ask.

“Not hungry,” he manages to say.

Your hand slides unhurriedly down his spine, your fingers grazing him delicately. Jake brings a fist to his mouth to suppress a moan. “I’ll wait, then,” you say softly. Then, before Jake can gather the strength to remove himself from the situation, you lean your body into his and rest your head on his shoulder.

Jake sits very still, trying to decide how best to navigate this turn of events.

“Do you ever miss me?” you murmur faintly.

Jake turns his head to look down at your face while his heart springs into his throat to constrict his breathing. “What are you doing?” he asks huskily.

Your eyes stare deeply into his. “I’m just wondering,” you whisper.

Jake sighs and rubs his forehead. “You just broke up with Frank.”

Your eyes start to fill with tears. “I miss you.”

“Fuck,” Jake mutters and straightens his back. His head drops like a deadweight against the drywall in behind.

You’re displaced in the process but, once he’s situated, you slowly move closer, until your head is resting over his chest.

Jake grits his teeth but wraps his arm around you and, in response, you lay your arm over his abdomen. He can feel your fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt. He tightens his embrace around your shoulders and curses some more, in silence this time. What is it about you that he just can’t resist?

You lift your head off his chest so you can be face to face with him. Jake tries very hard not to lock eyes with you because that would likely be the end of him. “Jake,” you say in a wispy sort of tone and Jake instantly loses that fight. He meets your gaze, and your eyes entrance him. “I want you to kiss me,” you breathe.

Jake can almost taste the citrus of your perfume; it hangs over you like a veil. He can already hear your melodic moans; he knows what you sound like when he touches you. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest, the ardent urging of your hands as they slip underneath his shirt.

But what he can’t do is kiss you.

Your lips… your lips are all he can think about. He wants you more than anything in the world but you’re not here the same way he’s here; you’re just passing through while he’s here to stay.

You come impossibly close, aching for just a split second of contact. “Don’t you want to?” you whisper.

Jake can hardly stand being this close to you. “Why are you doing this?” he asks in a low, uneven voice.

You gulp and the tip of your nose brushes his. “I want to be with you, Jake,” you whimper, your fingers digging persistently into his ribs. Your travelling hands ignite a chain of pyrotechnics under his skin that sort of set his entire chest ablaze. “Don’t you want that?”

If only you knew how much. He shakes his head, cupping your cheek in his hand. “How can that be? When you’ve only been single for an hour?”

Your eyes start to sparkle. “You don’t believe me?”

He’ll never believe a word you say. But that doesn’t make him want you any less. He catches the tears that stream down your face with his thumb.

“I never got over you, Jake,” you say, clasping your hand over his on your cheek. “I think about you all the time.”

Jake leans his head into yours and grips your hand in his. If you’re telling the truth, he sympathizes. But, more likely than not, every word coming out of your mouth is fiction.

You push him away and sit up straight, wiping at your tears. “I never meant to hurt you,” you say. “I made a mistake. I realized that the moment you left. And I was too proud to go after you.”

Jake grimaces. “So, you dated Frank for ten months?”

You shrug. “On and off. He cheated on me, so…” you trail off with a cynical laugh. “Got what I deserved.”

Jake furrows his brows. “You don’t deserve that.”

You glance up at him with renewed hope. “I don’t deserve you,” you say with a strangled sigh. “I know that. And you know that, obviously. Which is why you won’t kiss me.”

Jake shakes his head.

“I know that it’s long over, Jake. I’m not delusional,” you say, your eyes so penetrating it feels like they’re clawing right into his soul. “And, I swear, I did not come here for this. It’s just, seeing you again – and your fucking disgustingly adorable adult shirt – handing out candy like a well-adjusted member of society – it reminded me what I missed out on.”

Jake lifts his eyebrows. “A lame, costume-less, party-less Halloween?”

You smile. “It’s not lame. It’s perfect.”

Jake watches you wretchedly. You may look innocent sitting before him in his very own baggy joggers and t-shirt with your dizzyingly beautiful eyes. But you are a fucking black widow. With a venomous bite. And sweet lips that spew lies, webs of which he could never untangle. Poison on the tongue. Toxic to the bone. Fatal. “You’re perfect,” he says.

You gaze at him tenderly, waiting for your moment to strike. Jake is waiting too. There’s no use fighting it, he lost the moment he met you. And he’ll lose as many times as it will take to win you for good.

Hangman Tag List:

A/N: The rest of the list will be in the comments. Let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore.

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deans-angel67 · 26 days

Text

Bruises and Surprises

Summary: When Eddie is acting off and then comes home late Evan and Y/N start to worry. But when they find out why he's been acting off, it causes some problems.

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x fem!reader x Evan Buckley

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing possibly, mentions of violence and injuries

A/N: This was inspired by @megalony Late Night Fights. I hope you guys enjoy this, thank you for the support.

____

The four of them sat at Eddie's kitchen table that morning. Both Evan and Y/N had the day off, Chris was going over to a friends house for a sleepover today. And Eddie decided to pick up an extra shift at the fire house.

"You know you didn't have to take that shift Eddie." Y/N says as he pours coffee into a turmos mug. It was rare that the three of them had a day off at the same time. So naturally she was a little disappointed when Eddie said he chose to do an extra 12 hours.

"I didn't realize you were off today, I'm sorry mi amour." He says dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

"You got all your stuff ready Chris?" Chris nods at Eddie's question and then gets up to go grab his things.

"You know there's no harm in taking a day off right. I mean you've been working a lot lately." Evan pitches in concern evident in his voice. As he puts his mug down on the table.

"You should be taking better care of yourself Eds." She said putting a hand on her stomach, masking a slight discomfort that made it's appearance.

"You two are blowing this way out of proportion." Eddie had been acting off lately. He was shorter tempered and he had been picking up a lot of extra hours. He was tired and overall frustrated often. They were both a little worried. Y/N hadn't seen him act this way for a long time. She was getting really worried.

The last time Eddie had acted this way she ended up getting a call say that he needed to be bailed out of jail. But she hadn't seen any bruises or marks on him, maybe she was over reacting.

"Why don't you call in sick?" Evan proposed, only to receive a scoff from Eddie.

"I said I'd be there, Buck. Come on, Chris!" Eddie gave them both a quick kiss before his son finally entered the room. Y/N and Evan said goodbye to Chris and just like that the house became quiet.

"He's acting strange right?" She asked Buck, her hands wrapped around the mug as she stared at the dark liquid before glancing at him.

"Yeah, he is." Evan confirmed.

~~~

Y/N stood in the kitchen cutting vegetables for supper. Two hands made their way to her waist and then her front. Buck leaned his chin on her shoulder as she hummed along to the song playing.

"Why don't you go sit?"

"Babe, I'm fine." She told him pausing to look up at him, kissing him on the cheeks.

"You were sick all morning." He presses. She put the knife down and turned in his arms so she was facing him. Her hands came up to cup his jaw.

"I promis, I feel fine. Good even." She spoke softly giving him her full attention. He let out a sigh searching for something unusual in her features only to find nothing.

"You promis? And if you start to feel even a little off you'll go sit?"

"Yes baby, I promise." She gave him a sweet smile and a kiss on the cheek.

"Well, then let me help. What can I do?" Evan asked going over to the sink to wash his hands.

"You can take over cutting while I get started on the sauce." She took a pot out and placed it beside the one with water. They didn't get to cook together often. It was often Buck or Y/N never Eddie. They were scared they wouldn't have a kitchen by the end of it, or taste buds.

By the time everything was ready it was 8pm. Late compared to 'normal' hours but their schedule was so weird that they got used to eating at odd hours.

"Shouldn't Eddie be home by now?" Y/N asked looking up at Evan with worry.

"His call must have run late. It happens all the time." He reassured her wrapping a hand around her waist and hugging her, his head going down to her neck.

"We should wait for him."

They ended up eating an hour and a half later. Without Eddie.

It was 11pm when Y/N wanted to go to bed but was to busy paissing their living room.

"This can't just be a call Evan."

"Sweetheart-"

"Theres no way he has been on a call for over 3 hours!" He was also getting worried, he just didn't want to show it. It wasn't impossible, but another unit would have gotten there and they would have been able to go back to the station, and back home.

"Baby stop, please." He gently grabbed her arms stopping her movements.

"How about you go to bed-" she shook her head and open her mouth to protest but Evan stopped her.

"How about you go to bed and try to sleep, and I'll go down to the station and see what's going on." She let out a sigh, hesitating.

"Your exhausted and you have work in the morning, Sweetheart. I wasn't really asking." Evan made himself more clear. Her hands went to his biceps and his to her waist.

"Fine."

~~~

It was dark in the house when he came home. Using his hands to make sure he didn't run into anything. When he reached the kitchen he turned the light over the sink on. He grabbed the first aid kit from the top of the fridge groaning from the pain it caused.

He took his shirt off letting it fall to the ground, he looked down spotting the dark bruises painting the various parts of his body. He took out some rubbing alcohol and cream setting them on the counter.

"Eddie?"

He turned around to find Y/N standing in the doorway of the kitchen. She was just about to fall asleep when she heard the front door.

"Baby where have you been? Why didn't you answer your phone?" She rushed forward only for her to stop a few feet away from him. A small gasp left her when she actually took the time to look at him.

"A call ran late, I'm sorry." He explained. She approached him gently running her fingure tips over a bruise on his stomach to which he winced.

"Eddie..." His name was spoken so softly he barely caught it.

"It was a rough one. It looks worse than it is, mi amour." He said, he put a hand on her arm trying to comfort her. But then she caught sight of his bloody and bruised knuckles. She took in a sharp breath standing up straighter. It all clicked in her head.

"You've been fighting again, haven't you?" She looked at him disappointment flooding her eyes.

"What? No, of course not." The slight hesitant in his voice told her otherwise.

"Edmundo, do not lie to me." She said angerly, tears welling up in her eyes despite her attempts to stop them. He took a deep breath closing his eyes and tilting his head slightly up.

He wasn't planning to do it again but a few weeks back an old buddy from back when he did illegal fighting contacted him. Said then needed someone because some guy left last minute. It was supposed to be a one time thing. But one turned to two, and two to three until it got out of hand.

"Baby-"

"Why!? Why would you possibly do that again?!" She was livid, rightfully so. She took a step back until she hit the kitchen island.

"It's complicated." He said looking back at her. Letting out a sigh, he didn't want to explain.

"Complicated? How could it be Complicated? This was in the past, we left it there, with the lawsuit, and the heartache and- and jail. We talked about this."

"It's not the same. I'm careful I know what I'm doing." He tries to explain, but it wasn't good enough.

"You also knew what you where doing when you broke that guys nose!" She yelled, not hearing the front door over their arguing.

"That's not fair."

"Look at yourself!" He swallowed hard. He was littered with cuts and bruises. He knew he shouldn't come home looking like this.

"Eddie?" Evan stood at the other end of the kitchen, his voice caused them both to look over at him.

Y/N kept a concern look on her face but a weight on her shoulders was lifted knowing that Buck was home and okay, it was one less thing to worry about. Eddie seemed surprised, he though Evan was sleeping.

"Thank God, your okay. I've been looking everywhere for you." Evan drops his keys on the counter and rushed to hug his boyfriend. Y/N letting out a sigh and ran a hand through her hair.

Eddie inhaled sharply as Buck hugged him and winced. He returned the affection and then pulled away a little.

"Buck." It was strained and said through gritted teeth because of the pain. When he finally pulled away he got a good look at Eddie.

"What the hell happened?" He said anger in his tone. When no one answered he turned to his girlfriend for help.

"You don't talk about fight club right?" She said sarcasticly causing Eddie to roll his eyes.

"What?" Bucks face filled with confusing looking between the two.

"He's fighting again." She explained moving to the other side of the island to create space between her and the boys.

"What!? Why?" He turns to Eddie brows furrowed, he wasn't there when he did the fights in the past. Y/N was. He had heard of some of them from her, like the one where he broke a guy's nose so bad he choked on a piece of cartilage.

"Can we please not have this conversation again." Eddie felt like they were going around in circles, and it didn't help when his girlfriend just pick up the conversation where they left off when Evan arrived.

"They know what there doing as much as you do. How do you know how it's going to end? Next time it could be you, and they won't stay to help you, they'll leave you there." She didn't want to fight with her boys tonight, not with all the stress that she was under. Today was supposed to be a good day, and it only seemed to take a turn for the worst.

"Y/N-"

"She's right, I thought you were donne with it Eddie." Evan cuts in, concern and confusion evident on his face and in his voice.

"Apparently not." She muttered her hand rubbing her temple

"Do you know how much you scared us tonight?" Evan tried to make him understand. Y/N started to feel a slight discomfort, but she was unsure from what.

"I'm sorry." He really did feel bad, he knew he was extremely late. The missed phone calls and texts were unlike him.

He fished his phone from his pocket and set it on the counter. The screen was shattered and the back metal panel was missing a few pieces falling out of the phone as he sets it down.

"Eddie you can't start doing this again, I wasn't there when you did it before but Y/N told me it got pretty brutal." Evan explained his concern about his past, scared that it might repeat.

"Look it's just a few fights, and they help. I come home and I'm not angry or impatient." Eddie tried to reassure them but it wasn't working. He ran a hand through his hair.

"No, you come home bloody and bruised. Like thats any better." Y/N pitched back in sarcasm lassed in her voice. A hand going to her stomach now understanding where the discomfort came from

"Eddie you can't keep doing this, not after tonight." Evan almost pleaded.

"You don't get it!" He argued back, getting more frustrated by the minute. Y/N winced gripping the counter with her free hand.

"Then explain." Evan continued to try and reason with him but nothing seemed to work.

"I can't!" Eddie shouted, the two boys to engrossed in their argument to see the clear pain their girl was in.

"This isn't healthy, I though you talked about it with your therapist." Buck continued to try and understand.

"Evan-" He was cut off by Y/N.

"Uhh! Will you two stop!" She was hunched over, one hand still on the counter for support the other on her stomach. A pained look on her face.

"Y/N?" Eddie turned to her and took a few steps in her direction.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Evan was extremely concerned. He rounded the island and stood beside her placing a hand on her hip.

"You two are stressing me."

"Mi amour, that can't be stress." Eddie gently rubs circles into her back.

"Since when does stress cause you pain?" Evan asked, she stood back up straight.

"Since I've been pregnant."

They both look at each other, wanting to have confirmation they heard the same thing.

"Pregnant?"

"Baby, are you sure?"

"I was hoping for a little more excitement boys." She remarked.

"Okay, how about we get you to the couch?" Eddie spoke looking at Evan.

Once she was seated on the couch the boys sat on either side of her.

"How long have you known?" She looked over at Buck and took a deep inhale.

"A week." She leaned back until her back hit the couch and looked between the boy. Trying to see both their reactions.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"I was going to, but you both have such a hectic work schedule that I was trying to find the right time. And then Eddie decided to work today so... This isn't how I wanted to tell you." She looked down at her hands in her lap.

She had spent so much time trying to plan the perfect moment. Tonight was gonna be it over some dinner the three of them. So they could figure out how to tell Chris together. But everything went wrong, it usually did with them. The execution was terrible, but the result was always good. Buck set a hand on her shoulder squeezing slightly to give her a little comfort.

"Where does it hurt?" Eddie asked concern painted on his face.

She looked over at him and set her hand on her lower stomach to show him. He reached over lifting her shirt a little and pressing a hand in different areas. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"I'm sorry baby." He apologized glancing between her and Evan. He hated that he had cause this. The stress and pain. He never wanted this to happen.

"It's just you two are constantly risking your life at work. I don't-"

"Hey, I get. I won't go to the fights anymore, I swear." Eddie stopped her to explain. He understood how much this meant to her to both of them. She gave him a small smile before it turned to a frown when she spotted Evan leaning down to be slightly above her stomach

"Now, you gotta stop giving trouble to your mom little guy." She let out a giggle running her hand in his hair only to lift his face and give him a kiss

"I don't think thats how it works Buck."

#eddie diaz x evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x reader #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #edmundo diaz #edmundo eddie diaz #buck buckley #911 abc #911 fox #imagines #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #evan buckey x eddie diaz #buck imagine #eddie imagine #911 imagine

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notafunkiller · 1 year

Text

false god

Summary: On the night of your movie premiere, you and director Bucky finally get closer.

Pairing: director!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 24, Bucky is 35), teasing, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, nipples play, oral sex (the reader receiving), clit play, come eating, metal arm kink, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), alcohol (but neither is even tipsy), aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 8.7K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: Bucky's look is obviously inspired by Sebastian's appearance at the Sharper premiere in London. The dark prince vibes and that hair... ahhh!

An extra thank you to @marvelouslizzie and @lavenderhaze967 for being my beta readers and for the endless support.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

It wasn’t your intention to interrupt him at first, but he was going to notice you anyway and you didn’t want him to think you are actively ignoring him. Because you obviously aren’t. How could you?

“Hi.”

Your voice is really low, but he hears you nonetheless, stopping mid-sentence when he turns his head and sees you so close. “Hey.”

Not only do his eyes get bigger, but there’s also a huge smile that spreads all over his face as he leans in to give you a quick hug. And you clearly aren’t prepared for physical contact at all, especially for the cheek kiss that follows the embrace.

“It’s so nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you, too!” His strong perfume hits you, and you hope the camera doesn’t catch your red face as you both pull back.

“You look amazing!” He’s not even attempting to hide the fact he checks you out. His eyes try not to linger too much on your chest, hips, or legs since the slit of the dress exposes a little bit of skin. The last thing he wants is for you to feel uncomfortable and think he’s a creep.

But you are too busy staring at him to notice. He doesn’t wear a simple suit. No, he went for a freaking villain...ish look that drives you crazy. It’s an all-black outfit: from the Prada blouse he wears under his suit, to his gloves, elegant coat, and Chelsea boots. And that hair? That hairstyle looks absolutely fantastic on him.

“I love this so much!” You say with a grin while gesturing to his body.

He bites his lip shily. “Oh my god… Thank you.”

You turn your head to the woman who is supposed to interview him and whisper a “Sorry”, but she doesn’t seem to mind at all. She watches your interaction with a genuinely warm smile on her face.

Bucky, though? He unexpectedly takes two steps toward you, and you see the camera move to catch you both. “Look, guys,” he points out his index finger in your direction. “She’s the one that gave life to this project, the one you should watch it for. Her performance is unbelievable! No one could have done it better.”

If you think you were blushing visibly until now, you’re wrong. Your cheeks get so hot that you have to refrain with all you have from touching them.

“This means so much.” You give him a quick, thankful look before shifting to the camera. “This man,” It’s your turn to point out to him. “...is incredible. His past projects and now False God… Everything he makes is golden. I am very thankful he believed in me and gave me a shot. He’s the best director I have ever worked with, and I really hope you’ll enjoy this movie.”

He thanks you with a tilt of his head and his folded hands, very grateful for your words, and you have to wave goodbye when your first interviewer calls your name.

Bucky shakes his head. “So where were we?”

The rest of the red-carpet interviews go well, with Bucky keeping an eye on you from distance, fully aware of how nervous you must feel since it’s your first premiere as the lead actress. But you mask it perfectly, making jokes and complimenting people now and then. And everyone loves you.

But the introduction in the theater makes you sweaty as Bucky presents you with an encouraging smile. You are the last one and the journalists are already recording. You pray you’ll not make a fool of yourself in front of everyone and fall while climbing the stairs. Thankfully, you don’t, and Bucky tries not to laugh when he sees you breathing out in relief. You watch him place the card he was holding in the pocket of his coat before raising his microphone to speak for a bit about the experience of directing and co-writing, about the cast, the messages, and how thankful he is to his loyal audience, but also the one that will form after this film. You can’t lie and say you’re listening to his speech entirely since you’re often distracted by some hair strands or his beard… His smile is a killer, too. You try to focus as much as you can, though, and when it’s your castmates’ turn, you actively nod and smile. When they pass the mic to you, you try to be as honest and professional as you can, thanking everyone for being there, supporting you, and believing in you. Of course, you praise Bucky extra much. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be standing here, and you’ve learned so many things from him. He’s such a wonderful and understanding director, always informed and always looking to improve himself and adapt.

But sometimes you wish you didn’t work with him… simply because in your delusional mind, maybe you’d stand a chance.

You don’t know why you chose to stay at the after-party. It’s not like you have your friends or family with you since you’re out of the country, and you haven’t had much contact with even half of these people. But maybe it’s an opportunity to get out of your comfort zone and make some new connections. Plus, you can freely observe Bucky outside the workplace.

Some journalists and photographers are still here, but he seems more relaxed. He enjoys having a chat and taking pics with a few actors he worked with in the past, and after he’s done, he invites you and the rest of the cast to join him.

The photographer is very friendly as she tries to arrange you, and you end up in the middle, right next to him.

You gasp when you feel his arm wrapping around your waist so that he doesn’t cover your dress with his coat.

Fuck… He makes focusing so hard.

You don’t know when you developed this crush, to be honest. You worked with him for more than five months, almost every day and everything was professional, sometimes friendly. But nothing more. He’s never even jokingly flirted with you or anyone else on set. He’s not a creep. He’s a really cool —single— guy and it’s so easy to forget how who he is.

You don’t even realize that you’re frowning until you feel Bucky’s fingers tickling you over the dress, making you burst into giggles.

Without thinking twice, you sneak your arm under his coat and return the gesture. He doesn’t chuckle as you did, but he smirks. And that smirk is so charming and sensual you feel like you won a prestigious award.

The photographer approves immediately, giving you a thumbs up, and after a few minutes, you finish. But Bucky makes you all stay in the same position as he takes his phone out of his pocket. He gives it to Steve after he opens the camera and returns next to you.

Unexpectedly, you feel him leaning in as he lets his hand rest on your back. “Should I tickle you again to get that gorgeous smile on camera, doll?”

And just like that, you’re left red and speechless by James Bucky Barnes.

Your sister’s reaction to the selfie makes you smile. She didn’t waste any time and commented on how you got lucky enough to take a photo with the dark prince of the film industry. Such a perfect nickname based on how he looks tonight.

“You’ve changed.” You jump when you hear the dark prince himself right in your ear all of a sudden. You lock your screen and turn to look at him.

“W-what?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to catch you off guard. I meant your dress.” You nod in response and immediately remark he’s no longer wearing his coat. That suit looks so, so good up close. But he still has his gloves on, which makes you sad.

You read a little about his metal arm before your audition and you’ve noticed he always had his hands covered on set, so you assume he’s not quite comfortable showing it in public. You only saw it in a few pictures taken by paps in New York, at a restaurant, around two years ago. “May I sit down?”

“Of course.” You clear your throat and look at the table in front of you. He brought two glasses of wine with him. “Is that for me?”

He gives you a teasing smirk before taking a sip. “There’s no one else sitting here, is there?”

“I didn’t want to assume. Thank you.” You smile shily, ignoring his playful rhetorical question, and follow his example, raising the glass to your lips. Surprisingly, it tastes better than you expected, but you don’t drink more. You didn’t eat almost anything tonight and the last thing you want is to feel sick.

“You’re welcome, I thought you’d like this.”

“I do.” You look him in the eyes as you speak. “Very thoughtful of you.”

If Bucky senses your nervousness, which is probably very obvious, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he keeps glancing at you in a way that makes you think he wants you to keep talking. But you don’t. He caught you off guard coming here and offering you wine. It’s a nice gesture: him wanting to check on you and chit-chat a bit, but you don’t know how you’re supposed to act. Especially when you have this consuming urge to touch the strands of his hair that keep returning to his face despite Bucky’s many attempts to keep them still, tucked behind his ears.

“It’s not as good as Natasha’s, but that’s all they have here.” You smile, remembering the day on set when you finished filming a super draining emotional scene after a couple of hours, and Natasha came to take you home. It was the second time she met Bucky, and she offered to take you, him, and the very few members that could come to a small pub, after seeing your exhausted faces. You had dinner and the best wine you have ever tasted. And it was so cheap!

“I didn’t expect it to be.” You straighten your back.

“How comes she left you alone?”

“Well, she has a full week at the agency, she wasn’t even supposed to be here.” But she came anyway because you’re more than her client. She became one of your closest friends shortly after she discovered you at the acting camp. And she’s been with you through every rejection, every small part you got, and now this.

“What about your family? I expected to see them here, I know they were excited. Is everyone okay?”

You smile, raising and shaking your phone a little before putting it in your pocket. “I was actually talking to my sister when you came. They’re all good, thank you for asking.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for interrupting.” His wrinkles make him look extra attractive when he raises his eyebrows, frowns, or smiles. You noticed that on set… But in this context? So close? It’s even more challenging for you to keep a neutral face.

“No, no. I am actually glad you came to me, I was planning to leave in a few minutes since it’s late, but I really wanted to thank you for your words today and overall, for the opportunity.” Your voice is shaking, full of emotion, and he immediately leans in, invading your personal space, and reaches for your hands.

Fuck... He’s touching you! He’s actually touching you.

“Don’t ever thank people for something you’ve earned and deserve.” His voice is so gentle and low, making the words hit you even harder. “Alright, doll?”

You nod, breathless, but he doesn’t accept it, squeezing your hand to get your attention. He wants to hear you say it out loud.

“Alright.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise you.”

With a playful smirk on his face, he lets go of your hands slowly and pulls back. “Good girl.”

And right at that moment, you want to screw everything and go for it… You are so worked up and tired of refraining from even thinking about it, that you don’t care how scandalous it would be if you jumped to kiss him right there. At least, you’d satisfy this need. For once…

You sigh, mortified. Even if you had the courage to do it, you don’t even know if he likes you like this. He’s been friendly and trying to make you comfortable tonight, and your mind went in another direction.

He probably had so many people in the industry hitting on him, but he was never photographed with them. You don’t know if it’s his personal ‘policy’ or if he is just discreet, and you shouldn’t think about it. But you do, it’s impossible not to.

You need to leave before you’ll start actually indulging yourself in this… fantasy.

You smile, raising from the couch. “Thank you for the wine. It was a wonderful night, but it’s getting way too late.”

And as soon as you finish the phrase, he’s up too, arranging his suit jacket. “You’re right. It’s really late.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you in New York.”

“Me too. At least we’ll be home.” His expression shows how fond he is of the city, and it warms you up. “I already miss it and I’ve been gone for one day.”

You gasp. “You arrived yesterday?”

“Nope, I wish. I landed last night because I had to take care of some additional stuff.”

You’ve been here for two days and you could barely sleep. You can’t imagine how tired he is and you really admire him for not turning down any interview today, but you guess he’s experienced this before.

“Wow, what are you doing still standing here?” You ask jokingly and he looks you straight in the eyes.

“Maybe I was just waiting for you to decide to head out so we can leave together.”

And, of course, you’re taken aback for a few seconds, trying to decide how to answer him. Since he’s in a good mood, you place your hand right over your heart and playfully say:

“Aww, you’re offering to take me to my hotel, Mr. Barnes? You’re so thoughtful.”

“I do actually.” He replies and takes a few steps until he’s by your side. “Sharon is driving, and since we’re all staying at the same place, I wanted to see if you want to come.”

You mentally slap yourself. He’s just being a nice person while you fantasize about kissing him in front of everyone. And as much as you want to find an excuse, you know it would make no sense. It’d be a short ride, plus you really like Sharon. She’s not only a great writer but also a great, fun person. Bucky wanted her on set all the time in case she came up with new lines or scenes as she watched you.

You smile. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Perfect, let’s get your coat.”

He insists on carrying your bag all the way to your door after you say your goodbyes to Sharon. Bucky’s room is just one level higher, so there isn’t much of a bother. You can’t help yourself but steal a few glances at him as you walk together. You even catch him looking back at you a couple of times, which makes you childishly happy. You realize your crush is getting even bigger tonight and you don’t know how you’ll put an end to it.

You’re right about to open your door when your stomach starts to ramble, and Bucky almost drops your bag out of laughter.

“Hungry?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You bite your lip not to groan, then give him an embarrassed smile. “A little.”

“So the fancy appetizers weren’t enough?” You know he’s teasing you by his tone and the playful grin he displays, so you let out a short laugh.

“Nope. I haven’t eaten since lunch.”

You didn’t have time, truth be told, but you’ll eat a great breakfast tomorrow. Now you’re just gonna take a bath and update Nat that you’re going to bed.

Bucky shakes his head disapprovingly. “This is not good for you at all. Your poor stomach should sue you.”

You snort. “I need to find a good lawyer then.”

“Well, if you could eat anything right now, what would it be?”

“Why are you doing this?” You fake complain, trying to match his dramatic vibe. It’s a fun way to end your night.

“Just curious.”

“Burgers and fries. But chicken, not beef.” You say without hesitation and extend your hands so you can take your bag. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome.” He gives you one of his sweetest smiles ever and you almost melt on the spot. You’re definitely crushing on him even harder now.

You look at him one more time before finally going inside. “Good night, Bucky. See you in New York.”

“Good night, doll.”

But you don’t have to wait two days to see him again. Because a few minutes after you get in bed, just watching random Tik Tok videos, he’s back, whispering your name while knocking on your door.

You literally jump, letting your phone on the nightstand, and arrange your clothes as you move.

You wonder if you forgot anything or maybe something dropped from your bag, but when you checked, everything seemed right in place.

Then why would he be here? Is he okay?

You’re even more surprised to see him leaning against the side of the wall when you open the door. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You wave toward the bag he’s holding with a curious look. “What’s this?”

“Burgers.”

“What?”

“I got us burgers and fries. And soda, of course. May I come in?” He asks so casually as if you’ve done this one thousand times before.

“I…” You’re so overwhelmed by this simple gesture, especially since it’s coming from him, that you don’t know how to react.

“Hey, it’s totally okay if you don’t feel like eating with me, alright? I can just give you your food and-”

You haven’t even realized you are frowning until you saw his worried expression, so you immediately cut him off. You don’t want him to get the wrong idea. “No, no. This is so sweet and unexpected. You… You really didn’t have to, thank you so much.”

“So I can come in?” His grin is so playful and confident again that you find yourself smiling back like a fool.

“Of course.” You step back so he can follow you inside, then you close the door. “Bucky, you have the flight tomorrow, too, right?”

“Yes.” He answers as he lets the bag down on the bed and starts taking his shoes and coat off. You watch him carefully, trying to keep your thoughts as innocent as possible, but it’s very challenging. He’s so hot and cute, and he brought you food despite being tired as fuck.

“Jesus, Bucky.”

“What, doll?”

Not doll again… You’re clearly gonna die tonight. A heart attack caused by this dark prince.

You clear your throat. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Nope, but I wanted to. Plus, you’re not the only one who’s hungry.” He unbuttons his jacket quickly, then rolls up his sleeves a little as you take the food out, placing it on the empty bag you use now as a tablecloth. “You weren’t sleeping, right?”

“No, I was chilling.” You assure him with a smile, waiting for him to join you on the bed. And he does, crossing his legs as he leans in to unwrap his burger.

“Fuck, I’m starving.” His cute, desperate tone makes you chuckle as you watch him smell the food.

He seems so comfortable around you like this, and you don’t think you’ll ever erase this image from your mind. Fuck this man!

“What?”

You giggle again. “You’re about to eat a huge burger all dressed up in Prada.” Sitting on my bed, you want to add, but you keep it to yourself. You don’t want to weird him out in any way.

“At two in the morning, with a gorgeous woman. What can I say? I love my life.”

You don’t know how to answer for a few seconds, but you’re too tempted to match his energy to pass on this opportunity. What can go bad? It’s not like a little flirting will make him think low of you since he started this... And he called you doll. You have every right to play along.

“Maybe I’m the lucky one.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows as soon as you finish your sentence, and you try to hide your smile with a napkin, pretending to clean your mouth.

“W-what?”

Oh my god, his cheeks are getting flushed! You want to congratulate yourself on this. You didn’t expect him to get flattered by a simple phrase, he’s so adorable.

“I said that maybe I’m the lucky one.” You repeat shily while staring at his hands. You notice he took off the glove he was wearing on his right hand. “I mean, I’m eating burgers with this handsome, super amazing guy, who didn’t let me starve.”

When you move your eyes to his face and see that his cheeks are even redder now, you giggle. Until he leans in and steals a few fries from you.

“Hey!” You pretend to be offended. “Give them back.” But before you can take them back, he’s shoving them in his mouth, and you both start laughing.

You spend the next twenty minutes in the same good mood: finishing eating while laughing at some set memories and making a chewing gum balloons contest like two kids before talking a little about your plans.

“You’re sure you can tell me?”

“Unless you’re planning to tell anyone,” You say jokingly. He’s in this industry, it’s not like he’s gonna release the info to the press. And he’s not in any competition with other directors. If there’s something you learned about Bucky super fast is that he’s a really healthy person. His mindset is not to be better than others and this is why he is so good at what he does.

In response, Bucky brings his thumb and forefinger together and moves them in a closing zipper gesture across his mouth.

“Well, to be honest, I don’t know if I’m even gonna make it to the shortlist.” You shrug your shoulders. You know how tough it is. “Nat heard some big names are auditioning, too.”

“Like?”

“Wanda Maximoff, Jennifer Walters… Yelena Belova.”

“Well,” He gives you an encouraging smile. “You had tough competition for False God, too, but you got it, didn’t you?”

You nod, remembering how exciting and scary it was. “But I have to keep my hopes low, you know? Not all directors have your patience or your willingness to take risks.”

It’s the truth. You have no connections and your past projects —if you don’t count this one— are not good enough. But you’re gonna try anyway.

“What character?”

“I'll read for both sisters, actually. What about you?”

“I have some meetings next week, but I still don’t know if I’ll accept it. The script is kinda weak.” Bucky sighs. “Can I take off my jacket? It’s really hot.”

“Of course.” It’s really hot indeed even though you have the AC on, which is surprising. It’s raining outside and it’s February…

You shamelessly watch him undress and almost groan at the sight of him in that semi-transparent black blouse. Jesus, he looks so freaking good, it’s just unreal.

“So yeah, I’m trying to be careful about what films I’m choosing. I’ve got an offer for a show, too, but I don’t know much yet. I’d love to collaborate with Sam Wilson.”

You heard about Sam a couple of times from Nat. He’s a great producer.

“Okay, random. What’s your dream vacation right now?”

“Dream vacation?” He frowns as if he’s never heard those words before in his life.

“Yes, where would you like to go and chill at this moment?”

He thinks about it for a few seconds, biting his bottom lip all thoughtfully, probably recalling all those places he’s visited and wants to visit as well.

“Italy or Greece. Somewhere warmer at least.” He giggles, leaning in unconsciously, and he’s suddenly so, so close to you. You can’t help but stare at him as that slight movement makes his hair strands fall on his face again, and you think dramatically that you’d die if you didn’t touch him right now. Right fucking now!

And you do, but you’re so gentle he doesn’t even realize you’re touching him until you bring your other hand to his face, letting go of his hair to you stroke his cheeks.

You swear he stops breathing for a few seconds as his lips half-open, and that’s when all your second thoughts and fears go out of the window. It’s your chance to be brave and go for it. He’s not a creep, nor the type of person who would take advantage of you. And you’ve flirted a few times tonight… Plus, he can reject you anytime.

So you look at his mouth, then up, into his eyes, waiting for him to say something, maybe a no, because there’s no way he doesn’t realize what’s your intention. But instead, he moves his left hand to the back of your head, holding you tightly as he presses his lips against yours.

You close your eyes instinctively, opening your mouth as your fingers go straight into his hair. It’s the perfect length and so soft… you can pull it without any effort. The feel of his tongue and his hands on your hips make you let out a soft moan right in his mouth as he pulls you onto his lap.

Your legs part even more, and you don’t even realize you’re rubbing on one of his thighs until he groans. Your lips are crushing, and crushing, and crushing. It’s hot and magnetic… out of a dream. And he’s so good at it! You’re literally sad when you have to pull apart to breathe a little more.

“Jesus, doll.” His eyes are glowing. You can’t help yourself but touch his face again, stroking his beard, surprised that it didn’t tickle you while kissing.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t want to sound creepy or anything, but I wanted to do this for some time.” He outlines your lips with his thumb, and you try very hard not to open your mouth. You’re talking now, this can wait for a bit more.

“I wanted to do this for a long time, Bucky. You don’t sound like a creep.” You pause, changing your expression completely, catching him off guard. “Unless you gave me the role because you wanted to get into my pants.”

The way his lips part in shock and horror, his eyes widening, full of panic immediately makes you feel bad for faking this indignation. “No, no. I’m sorry if this is what-”

He tries to move, nervously, thinking you want space, but you interrupt him.

“Bucky, I know you.” You caress his face over and over again. His reaction itself shows what type of person he is, so your gut is not wrong. “It was a bad joke, I know you wouldn’t do this.”

He lets out a deep breath as he realizes you mean it, and his hands return to your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. “You scared me, doll. I would never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. Especially since we worked together and I’m…” He pauses, but you still realize what he wants to say.

Older. And yes, you were in the same project, but he has no power over your career. Never had, and never will. And no actress or actor that worked with him has ever said publicly or privately anything bad about him. You know he’s not a prick.

“I leaned in first.” You whisper.

“But I flirted with you first… and I am the one who kissed you.”

You snort, dropping your hands just to give him a big smooch. “You’re adorable.”

“Adorable?”

“Yes. Very adorable.”

Bucky’s hands lower from your hips to your ass without warning, making you rub on his thigh again. And it feels so good. You wonder how long it would take you to come if you started to dry hump for real.

“You’re very adorable, too. And beautiful.” His lips are touching your neck now. Barely. But the sensation of his warm breath and beard on your skin drives you absolutely crazy. You need to fuck him.

You’ve been craving this for so long… you didn’t even realize how much until now. So you can be as excited and impatient as you want.

“Bucky.” You moan his name. “I want you.”

“Hmm?”

You raise your head, desperate for more. “I want you. Now.”

“Wait, are you sure?” He tries to read any sign of discomfort or doubt in your eyes, but he finds none. You really want to do this.

“Positive.”

“Okay, but let me get this out before we do something more. Anytime you have second thoughts or you don’t feel good, please, tell me and I’ll stop. If you don’t want to go all the way in-”

You interrupt him. “You mean sex? Because I’ve just told you how much I want you.”

“I know, but things can change and I’m just making sure you know this.”

He’s serious and thoughtful, reminding you of how he was on set. He always asked if you and the rest of the cast feel okay and tried to adjust based on your level of comfort.

“The director in you jumped.” You giggle, then caress his face again. “I know you, Mr. Barnes, and I trust you. But I really need you to do something because I’m getting impatient.”

He nods, biting his lip, and you can’t refrain from leaning in and biting that lip yourself. Just a little. He moans, relaxing under you, as he realizes you’re honest, so he stops thinking and buries his head in the crook of your neck. Your hands find their way to his shoulders when you feel him starting to leave a trail of little kisses on your skin.

“I need you naked,” he whispers before pulling away so he can already start taking off your T-shirt. You raise your arms to help him and in no time, the air hits your breasts.

Bucky’s eyes immediately go right to your nipples, followed by his hands.

“Fuck.”

“We will, don’t worry.” He laughs, squeezing your left breast enough to make you whimper, but in the next second, he frowns, groaning.

“What’s wrong?” You try not to panic. Is he hurt? Did he change his mind? What’s happening?

“I-I don’t think we can do this tonight, doll.” He sounds frustrated, but you don’t understand. He seems to enjoy this very much. And he’s so hard…

You’re trying to keep your voice under control as you speak. “Did I do anything wrong?”

“No, no.” He pecks you immediately, his gloved hand stroking your hair. “Nothing like that. I just don’t have a condom on me. I didn’t expect…”

You bite your bottom lip, trying not to giggle. Good to know he’s careful, keeping it safe. “I’m clean and on the pill.” It’s worth a try to see if he’d be willing to do it with you.

A big smile spreads over his face. “I’m clean, too, promise.”

“I said I trust you, Mr. Barnes, didn’t I?” Your glance falls on his bulge without realizing it. “So let’s see you in action.”

Of course he snorts at your set semi-joke. And of course you laugh. “Funny.”

“Thanks, now let’s see you naked.” You toy with the edge of his blouse, excited to finally be able to touch his skin. You’ve wanted this for so long… But he’s so tense all of a sudden. And he’s trembling. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure you want to see me completely naked?”

“What?” You ask surprised. What kind of question is that? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This.” He waves his left hand as if it’s supposed to mean something bad. His metal arm could never scare you. It’s a part of him, and he should not be ashamed he’s a survivor. Then he slowly takes the glove off, waiting for your reaction. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, I can put it back on and I take off only my pants.”

You’ve never wanted to slap anyone more than those people who made him feel like he has to hide and feel ashamed of his arm. It’s absolutely mind-blowing how protective you feel over this man, but you don’t care if it’s crazy.

“Bucky, what the fuck? I want to see all of you. I don’t… I don’t get how this would make me uncomfortable at all,” you say softly, covering his metal hand with yours. It’s colder obviously, but it actually feels really nice.

“It’s my entire arm, doll…” He smiles unsure as he stares at your hands. “You probably know about the accident.”

“A little.” You look him in the eyes, wanting him to see you’re one hundred percent honest about what you’re gonna say. “But unless you feel uncomfortable, don’t worry about me. Or anyone else in general.”

He nods, a little unsure, but he still takes off his blouse, letting it fall on the floor. Your eyes go slowly from his abdomen all the way up to his chest, shoulders, then arm.

“Can I touch it?”

“What?” His voice is low and soft, full of surprise as he’s fidgeting. His metal fingers move exactly like his flesh ones, which makes you wonder how they’ll feel on your skin.

“Can I touch it?” You blurt out. You’re running out of patience… this is how much you want to feel him. And you really hope you’ll manage to make him more comfortable by the end of the night.

“You want to? Of course you can, but you don’t-”

“You’re joking?” You immediately brought your hand to his metal forearm and start stroking, curious. “Oh my god, the gold feels different.” He almost laughs seeing you so giggly. You’re not disgusted or bothered, you’re like a happy kid, and Bucky’s never seen anything more lovely than that expression you have. And he made that happen! “Why are you hiding this beauty, Bucky?”

He shrugs. “I don’t want to make people feel weird.”

“Screw them! What about how you feel?” You don’t even care how loud you are. You’re really upset about this. Why should he hide? Why should he be sorry and care about what strangers feel when they obviously have no decency? You know it’s rich coming from you, a person who’s been worrying about others your whole life, but he deserves more. “Think about what you want! If they are dumb enough not to like it, then they can look away.”

“It’s not just that, many pity me.” He sighs, and you quickly realize that this probably hurts him even more. It would if you were him.

“Well, they should envy you,” you say, making sure you keep eye contact. “Fuck, this is so cool, what else can it do?”

“You want to find out?” Bucky winks at you, moving his metal arm to your hip. The coldness feels so good on your skin that you can’t help yourself but moan.

“Dirty mind!”

“So you don’t?”

You giggle, aware of what he means, but you need something else right now. “Later.”

“Ihm.” He smiles mischievously, bringing his flesh arm to your pants so fast you basically fall with your back on the bed. “You have a point. Now it’s time for something else.” And just like that, you’re sitting naked and wet in your hotel room with Bucky Barnes, waiting for him to finally fuck you.

“Aren’t you gonna take these off?” You whimper, wanting to touch him through his pants, but before your fingers can make contact, you see him getting off the bed. “What?”

And then he kneels. He fucking kneels in front of you as he drags you quickly toward the edge of the bed.

“I’m gonna eat you, is that okay?” He looks feral somehow as he asks, his eyes glowing. “Please.”

You raise a little, shifting your weight on your elbows so you can see him better. He really wants this… you.

“Y-yeah. You can.” Of course, he can.

You moan as soon as you feel his lips on your calf, his beard rubbing on your skin as he leaves kisses all the way up to your thigh.

You close your eyes when his hand finds its way to your entrance.

“May I?”

You nod immediately and shiver when you feel his perfectly curled-up index flesh finger starting to move inside you. He’s trying to explore what you like while continuing to kiss and lick your inner thigh, but it’s torturously slow. And you can’t take it.

“Bucky.” It’s all you say, basically asking him to move a little faster or add another finger.

“You’re so wet.”

“Yes, and I need more. Add another finger.” Your voice is barely a whisper, but he still hears you. Yet, he doesn’t give you what you ask for.

“I like how you smell.” He mumbles as if he’s talking to himself. And maybe he is, you don’t know and you don’t have the time to ask since he takes his finger out, grabs your thighs, spreading your legs so he can fit his shoulders between them, and then puts his mouth directly on your pussy.

Just like that.

“Fuck.” Your hands basically fly to his hair as your hips lift to meet his tongue just as quickly. Not even your body anticipated the change, but it feels so good. His hands go to your ass, trying to stop you from moving, but it’s so hard. He licks so fast that you can’t control your reactions.

“You taste so fucking good.” He lets out a moan against your skin, and you’re not okay. His tongue is absolutely perfect. Especially when he moves it all the way up to your clit. You can’t believe how more comfortable your body actually gets every second he spends touching it. You really want this man.

“Bucky…” You flinch, shocked when you feel his flesh finger back inside you while he starts licking your clit faster. You grab his hair even harder, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Can I die here?” You can barely understand what he says because he speaks without taking his mouth off your clit.

“Faster.”

He moans and starts flickering his tongue in circles quicker than before while adding a second finger inside you. Then a third. And you feel so good you don’t even realize you’re basically suffocating him with your thighs.

“S-sorry.” You manage to say between whimpers, but he is too absorbed in what he’s doing to even hear you. When his fingers hit a new angle, you pull his hair so hard he gasps, yet he doesn’t stop. “Just like that. Just like that.” You repeat frenetically until you finally come with a loud moan. But Bucky doesn’t stop his movements at all, thrusting his fingers even faster as he sucks on your clit until you finish coming.

You open your eyes slowly to watch him kiss his way up to your neck, spending extra time licking your nipples, one by one. His wet beard feels actually good on your sweaty skin.

“I wanna mark you up, pretty girl. I want to… Fuck.” His lips are right below your ear as he speaks, sucking on a small spot. He doesn’t do it hard enough nor does he use his teeth to leave a hickey, but it’s still hot. Very teenager…ish from him.

“I want to fuck, too.” You laugh and you feel his smile.

“You need to sit on my face the next time.”

The next time?

“I’d suffocate you.” You choose to ignore the hole in your stomach when he moves his head back so he can look into your eyes. So blue... “Maybe hover,” you offer, but you’re not sure that’d be safe for him. He needs to breathe. And would there even be a next time?

“I feel offended. You think I can’t handle you?” He sounds offended, too, and honest. “If I can’t, then let me die happily, woman. We don’t do hover, okay?”

You snort at his words, but he seems so serious, you can’t make fun of him now. Especially after he gave you one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

“Okay.”

“Good, now taste yourself.” He grins before leaning in to kiss you. You open your mouth as soon as you feel his tongue licking your bottom lip, then you drop your hands to his ass and squeeze. “Fuck,” he breaks the kiss, all breathless.

“Take them off, Bucky. I need you to fuck me.” You’ve never said these words before, but you don’t feel ashamed at all. It’s hot to be able to voice out your needs and wishes like this.

He nods twice as he gets off you to do what you told him. And in less than a minute, he’s standing naked and very hard, staring at you.

“You can tell me to stop anytime,” he reminds you as he gets back in bed.

“You look so hot. Especially with your hair all messed up.”

“Thank you.” He grabs a pillow that he places under your head before positioning himself between your already spread legs. “You’re ready for me, doll?”

“What do you think?”

“I think I’m gonna make sure you’ll use that mouth for other things than mocking.”

You feel him at your entrance and fight the need to close your eyes just so you can stare at him. “For example?”

“Moaning, begging… crying out my name.” He doesn’t give you the chance to answer with a challenging remark because he’s sliding inside you. And he’s so… thick.

“Easy,” you whisper, shocked by how full you started to feel and he’s barely even halfway through. But he doesn’t seem to hear you as he thrusts even more way too quickly. “James, I said easy.”

He groans when he feels your arms wrapping around his neck and kisses your nose. “Sorry, baby. I didn’t realize.”

Baby? Fuck me… Don’t freak out!

“It’s okay.”

“I’m gonna be gentle.” He promises you, lowering his lips to yours.

“I’m not made of glass, you know? And you can start moving.” You raise your head to look at him, but he lowers his at the same time, and you end up hitting your foreheads so hard, you see stars.

“Ah.” He groans in pain.

“Is your head made of metal too?”

Bucky’s laugh is so cute and contagious that you also start laughing. But then you lift your hips, trying to create some friction and he freezes.

“You feel so fucking good.”

“Then move!” You complain and before you can do something about it again, his grip on your hips stops you.

“How do you want it?” A normal question since you’ve never done this together before, but it frustrates you.

“Just fucking move, James.” You’re close to crying at this point. This man is finally inside you and he’s holding back. “Fucking move!”

“Fuck, say that again.” He tilts his head back as he asks.

“Make me.” And then he finally gives you what you want and starts moving back and forth, trying to see what makes you moan the most. Long strokes. Deep short strokes. Fast. Slow. And you love them all in different ways because he’s really good at it. Like really good.

“James, please…” You grab him by the chin with one hand so you can kiss him properly, but also to try keeping your voice a little down for a bit. You didn’t know you can be this loud, and you’re a little embarrassed. But he seems to enjoy that way too much.

“Come on, doll, talk to me. Please... go on.” You feel his teeth on the skin of your neck while he keeps moving his hips faster and faster every time.

“Bucky.”

He sucks on the same spot, and this time, there’s no way he’s not gonna leave a hickey. But you don’t care. Not even a little.

“Yes?”

“James, please.” You close your eyes, your moans louder than before, and Bucky realizes you’re so close again.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me and it's yours.”

Holy fuck, that mouth will be the death of you.

But can you tell him? You don’t want to push him too far. “I d-don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Try me.”

“P-please, just... let's just focus on this.” You trace his back with your right hand, trying to distract him.

“Only if you tell me.”

You sigh, knowing he won’t let it go, so your fingers slide down between your bodies. You can touch your clit yourself, no need to ask him to do it. But before you can reach it, he stops your hand with his.

“Hands in my hair, doll. I can do this for you.” His voice is so hoarse and gentle, opposite to his thrusts.

“Use your other hand, Bucky,” you manage to breathe out, shocking him.

“What?”

“Please. I want- fuck, please, James, I want to come… Metal fingers, please.”

He doesn’t ask twice, thanks God, giving you exactly what you crave. And you welcome his cold touch by arching your back in pleasure and kissing his shoulder.

“I f-feel you everywhere.”

“You do? You like the way I fill you?” He barely finds the power to ask. He thrusts so fast that he’s breathless.

“Oh, fuck. Yes. Yes, Bucky, it feels so good.” The pace of his fingers is quicker too, and it’s like something electrocuted you when he lightly pinches your clit. “Bucky, don’t stop. Please, I’m coming. I’m coming...”

You don’t even realize what’s happening to you when the orgasm hits you. You’re crying and basically screaming at this point, and not even biting into his shoulder can keep your voice down. All you can feel is pleasure. So much pleasure everywhere… It’s blinding. How is it possible?

“What a good girl you are… coming all over my cock, asking nicely for my fingers.”

You can barely breathe when you come back to him. When you can open your eyes and watch him so close, too. When you can grab his ass and make him move faster.

“Come for me.” Your other hand caresses his face: forehead, cheek, beard, lips. “James.” You moan when his head lowers until his mouth can wrap around one of your nipples. And that sound is enough for him to finally let it go. You don’t expect him to be this loud, though, and you smile like a fool, stroking his hair patiently.

You’ve never had someone coming inside you before, truth be told. You had bareback sex once or twice with your first boyfriend, but he always pulled out, so this sensation is new.

“Wow.” He opens his eyes to look at you.

“Wow,” you repeat as he pulls out slowly, but it still makes you hiss. You’re still full of his come… You’re supposed to go shower or at least clean yourself with a towel, right? Maybe you can wait for a little.

But then you feel his cold hand back at your entrance all of a sudden, and two fingers slide inside.

What is he doing?

He surprises you even more as he places the metal fingers covered in come on your lips, but you open your mouth without hesitation. Bucky smiles, which warms your heart before you start sucking on his fingers properly.

After a few seconds, satisfied, Bucky takes them out and immediately moves his hand down, between your bodies.

“You're such a good girl when you want, doll.” Then he kisses you fervently, almost falling on top of you. “Eating my come… tasting us.”

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“Speechless. Even better.” His grin is wide and playful, lighting up his face. He pecks you one more time before leaving the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

You watch him as he walks to the bathroom, and he clearly has the hottest ass you’ve ever seen. And you got to touch it.

You wonder if he wants to leave right after or maybe… You sigh.

As much as you’d want more of this, of him in general, you’re not gonna push him. Even if that was all, it was good. He’s a very thoughtful and skilled man. A perfect combination with that face.

“How are you feeling?” He’s coming back, all freshen up, with a semi-wet towel in his hand, and before you can answer, he’s spreading your legs carefully, then starts cleaning you. “Sore?”

“A little,” you whisper, surprised by his gesture, and he lifts his head.

“Going shy on me, doll?”

“You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to.” He interrupts you with a smile, taking the towel away. “Maybe next time I can clean you up differently.” And he winks.

Next time…

“What do you mean?”

He comes back, slipping into bed next to you, and licks his lips. “What do you think? Gonna let me?”

Does he mean licking? “How?”

“With my tongue, of course.”

You bite your lip not to moan at the image he’s just planted in your mind. He’s driving you crazy just like that.

“Why not? It sounds so hot. But when’s ‘next time’?”

“Whenever you want.” He smiles, his hair draping all over the pillow as he turns to the side to look at you.

You blush. “I didn’t expect it.”

“What? Me making you come like that or wanting more with you?” He pauses. “I am older than you. A bit more than a decade… But I want to remind you it’s totally okay not to desire more than sex or this. You can always tell me to fuck off.”

You immediately frown. “You’re not a creep, Bucky, we’ve already established that. The age gap is irrelevant in your case since you’re a good man with a healthy mindset, who doesn’t constantly go for younger women.”

His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “To be honest, I’ve never dated anyone more than four years younger than me.”

You peck him on his red nose. “That’s what I mean. And I trust you. I’m willing to take this shot because I think it’s worth it. The press talks anyway. Whatever it will be, it will be.”

“I think it’s worth it too, doll.” You feel his lips on your forehead. “Very much. Now let's go to sleep, it’s so late.”

“Good night.” You cover both of you with the sheet.

“Good night.”

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rbbrbikerthorp · 7 months

Text

The Fitting Room Is This Way

I got the inspiration for this story from a GIF, which must have been a looped clip taken from a video called "Abducted". I used a generative AI platform to create a couple of the images - not bad for a first effort?

“Why don't you just try something on? I think it look like a second skin on you and will suit you very much. Here, the fitting room is this way…”

"Errrrrrm," was about all I could muster as a reply. I tore my eyes away from the rails of black and multicoloured rubber that had absorbed my attention for more minutes than I care to say. I turned my head to see what I can only describe as an attractive young male with orange and green hair, multiple piercings and more tattoos than I'd ever seen on a body. I'm not usually stuck for words, but this time I was.

It was the first time I'd ever crossed the threshold of any adult store, let alone a fetish store. I was actually on a business trip to the city for a couple of days to meet with a bunch of different customers. I'd arranged to meet one of them for dinner this evening, but something had come up and they had to cancel. With time on my hands, my curiosity got the better of me. I walked the short distance from the hotel into what people might describe as a 'seedy' part of the city and walked through one of two doorways that would change my life - forever.

"Look, you've been gawking at these garments for at least ten minutes, so something must have piqued your interest," the shop assistant said grinning in a somewhat sinister way.

The truth is he was absolutely right. I had a real fetish for rubber, but it wasn't something I could share. If I didn't use an incognito browser, a casual glance at my web history would show me landing on websites with videos and pictures of men in rubber and stories of men being turned into rubbermen, from beasts to slaves.

The assistant looked me up and down, "yes I can see why you are captivated by the rubber suits - so much more exciting than a business suit to wear, and it will hug and show off your best bits," he giggled to himself as he grabbed two or three suits off the rails.

"Right one of these will be perfect for you. It will feel like a second skin. So much so, that I don't think you'll ever want to take it off."

There was that ominous grin again.

"Follow me. It's this way to the fitting room"

He walked deeper into the basement and towards a set of dark doors. Was there a fitting room really this way? I'd never been in a fetish store before but I'd read a few stories about what was inside. He pushed on the door, it opened slowly. Very little light emanated from inside. “Come on”, he said jovially. I followed like a puppy dog follows its mother.

Inside the room I could just about make out the shapes of muscular men in shiny dark clothing. Several hands grabbed me, restraining me before I knew what was happening. At first I struggled against my captors but one came up to me and held a mask over my nose and mouth; I heard a hissing sound. I felt a kind of euphoria cone over me. My struggles evaporated and I allowed myself to be led deeper into the room. Now that I was next to these men I could tell they were wearing similar outfits to the ones I’d seen on the rails back in the shop, and their heads were enclosed in some kind of hood/gas mask combination.

I looked at the assistant standing there holding the rubber suits whilst I was stripped of my clothing. Now naked, they started rubbing what I can only describe as an oily cream all over me. One of the dark rubber-suited men walked over to the assistant, who handed him one one of the rubber suits. He walked back towards me and took the suit off the hanger. Two other lifted my left foot off the floor and he started sliding it in, then they put my foot back on the floor and he repeated the process with the right foot.

Then it was a simple process; to gently and very erotically guide the rubber suit all the way up my body. As they did they smoothed out any bumps, making sure the rubber clung to every millimetre of my body. Just before the suit covered my groin, I looked down to see one of the men fitting a device over my cock and felt another slide something into my arse. At first he struggled, so he squeezed something onto it and started pushing at my sphincter. At first it met a resistant from a hole that had only known 'one-way' traffic. suddenly I felt a ‘pop’ and my arse felt 'nice and full' (where did that come from).

The men carried on smoothing the rubber suit as they pulled it up my torso until it reached my chest. Then, one at a time my arms were fed into the suit. The shop assistant walked up to me and fitted what I can only describe as mitts over my hands. I stood there, a spectator in my own body, watching as the flesh was covered with black latex. Then the suit was zipped up to my neck. I felt a mild construction and heard a snap. The assistant walked around in front of me and held up a broken zip. His grin now a haunting smile.

Before I could react I felt something rubbery being brought to my face, I could see lenses and a place for my nose to fit in. I started breathing more rapidly as a sense of unease started to build. Despite my fears I allowed the men to fit the mask over my face, the mask seemed to be part of a hood because the next thing I sense was a zip being pulled from the top of my head down to meet the top of the suit at my neckline. My head now felt as constricted as my body.

Through the lenses I could see my captors. Then I heard voices in my ears. Mini speakers in the hood activated, “welcome brother, welcome to the nest. From here we grow, we spread, we convert and we conquer.”

There was just white noise now. The lenses darkened and my vision blacked out. Then instantly there were spirals, shapes and words imprinted on the lenses. Voices in my head said, “Rubberdrone”, “obey”, “comply”, “convert”. Over and over the words bombarded my head until...nothing. My own thoughts stopped. The lenses cleared to let this newly created rubberdrone see the room again, the voices in my ears stopped.

In front of me were half a dozen rubber drones lined up. To the side I could recognise the shop assistant. I instinctively knew to join at the back of the line. The assistant opened the door and we started moving forward.

#rubber #drone #conversion #slave #gas mask #boots

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141trash · 3 months

Text

Every Man has his Breaking Point

AN: *Exhales loudly and screams* I had a mini panic attack because the links weren't working and I realized I hadn't reblogged the post but its fine because I scrolled my thousands of likes for this :) This is inspired by @bleuu-moon's post! I loved it and as I was eating my ramen ended up imagining Ghost in a similar position. unedited full of grammatical errors bc reasons

At first he thought you were a hallucination given that he'd been knocked over the head pretty damn hard during his capture. He woke up on the cold floor of some cell with you leaning over him, pressing a bit of cloth to his forehead. Swatting your hand away from his face, he forced himself to sit up and take stock of the situation.

There was a brief underlying panic when he realized they'd stripped him of his mask and you now knew what he looked like. All his weapons were gone as were his shoes and anything that might have been useful for escaping. Whoever took him clearly knew what he was capable of.

Wincing as he braced himself against the wall he finally turned his attention back to you. Definitely a civilian. Small, innocent, young. There had to be something that he didn't know about you that made you a target because you and him being stuck together in this situation seemed like such an odd pairing.

"What they want with you?" he asked hoarsely, breaking the silence. Your head shot up to look at him, nervously playing with the fabric between your fingers.

"I don't know." you replied shaking your head.

Simon grunted, but otherwise didn't say anything else. His head was throbbing painfully, but he needed to understand what was going on if he was going to get out of there. It occurred to him after a while that you might be working with his captors, placed there to gain his trust and get information out of him that way. If that was the reasoning then it was a stupid idea. A young pretty face wasn't going to get your bosses any answers.

He decided then that until he could confirm that theory he wouldn't interact with you again.

It was two days later when someone finally came in. The pair of you were on opposite sides of the cell. You'd been dozing on and off to keep from letting the anxiety overwhelm you, but when you heard the key scraping the lock to the outer door your head shot up instantly alert.

Across the cell Simon didn't lift his head to glance at the door, briefly though his gaze flitted to you, to see your reaction.

"Lieutenant Riley." a man with a grandiose voice greeted as a guard opened the cell door to let him in.

"I know you?" Simon asked almost boredly, looking at the man and not recognizing anything.

The man's face twitched slightly, hands tightening to fists at his sides, "Perhaps not. But I know you."

He looked at you then, causing you to shrink back from the slimy feeling that went down your spine.

"You don't like your gift?"

You shuddered at the obvious implication in his voice, tears welling up in your eyes.

"You must not know me very well if you thought that would get me to talk." Simon disparaged making a face in disgust. For a brief second you didn't know whether to be relieved or offended.

The man clucked his tongue like a bad superhero movie villain, a greasy smile spreading across his face, "Every man has his breaking point Lieutenant Riley. I'm excited for us to find yours."

#uh pt 1?#ghost #cod x reader #cod x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #breaking point series #sah rambles

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

well deserved 1k!!! i got inspired by the ones you posted yesterday

bodyguard!tasm!peter x reader (can be royal au or not)

i just love the use of spidey senses in fics, especially when being around reader fucks with peter's ability to focus 🥰

Thanks sweetness <3

join the party

bodyguard!(tasm)Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 845 words

Peter doesn’t like to think of himself as being for hire. But, well, he does think of himself as a sort of civic employee. And money is tight. So if the mayor wants to pay Spiderman to keep an eye on his daughter after he’s gotten a few threats, it’s really his civic duty and a good business opportunity.

Still, he’d been expecting some bratty, snot-covered kid, not you, kind and his age and tongue-twistingly beautiful.

“Is this really the safest place for us to be?” you ask nervously.

“I, um, I think so,” Peter stammers, caught off-guard by how cinematic your hair looks blowing around in the wind (like, it’s fucking ridiculous). God, what is he doing? He doesn’t think so, he knows so. He’s supposed to be competent, in-charge, not some moony-eyed dunce. “Not many people can get this high other than me, so I figure if anyone’s trying to get to you, we may as well make it difficult for them.”

You hum your understanding, but you don’t relax. Peter doesn’t blame you; it’s easy for him to forget how scary heights were before he had the security of his web shooters, but he knows this drop must look terrifying. You’re perched at the top of a tower across the street from where your dad is giving a speech. For reasons he hadn’t seen fit to tell Peter (or Spiderman, whatever), the mayor seems to think that this would be a prime time for his political enemies to make a grab for you. Peter hopes it’s not because your dad’s about to say something stupid in front of this giant crowd and on live TV. He’d only mentioned that he’d been getting a few more death threats than usual lately, and wanted to be extra sure you were safe.

Your shoe slips an inch, and you whimper, though you’re still feet away from the edge of the roof.

“You’re okay,” Peter says quickly, moving closer to you. “Listen, the last thing I’m gonna do is let you fall. It’d make me a pretty bad bodyguard, you know?”

“I know,” you say, but you’re nearly panting, your chest rising and falling in shallow bursts as you try to keep your panic under control. “I’m sorry, it’s just—it’s a hard instinct to ignore.”

“I get that,” he says sympathetically. You’re all but sitting down against the sloped roof, fingers pressed to the metal as if you can dig your nails in to save yourself. Fuck, he’s gonna regret this. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I could hold onto you if you want.”

You don’t even hesitate, nodding quickly. “That would make me much more comfortable, actually.”

Peter doesn’t waste any time, breaching the gap between you and wrapping his arm securely around your waist. You’re tense all over, and your nails bite into his shoulder as you grip it like a lifeline. Which, he supposes, you probably think it is. He feels his face grow warm under his mask as you press yourself up against him, but the proximity doesn’t seem to phase you, all your concern still focussed on the hundred foot drop beneath you. You’re shaking a little, and Peter feels guilty for not relieving you sooner, bringing his other arm around you to rub at the goosebumps on your upper arm hesitantly.

“Thanks,” you murmur breathlessly, seeming to relax more now that he’s got both arms around you.

“No problem.” Just doing my job, he thinks sarcastically. Feeling up a pretty girl.

He looks back at the podium across the street to realize the crowd has nearly doubled in size without him noticing. If you were distracting before, he doesn’t even know what to call you now. He can’t tell if his spidey sense is going haywire or if that’s just his nerves, all fired-up from your proximity. How’s he supposed to protect you if he can’t think of anything but how good you smell?

“I really appreciate your help,” you say, voice sweeter now that it’s lost some of its panicked edge, “even if I don’t wholly approve of your methods.” Is that a teasing note he detects? He definitely won’t be able to split his focus if you start flirting with him. “My dad doesn’t let me in the loop on much, do you know if this is just a one-time thing? Or will I be seeing more of you?”

Okay, fuck professionalism. “I’m not really sure,” Peter answers honestly, “but your dad seems like a smart guy, and I’m sure he doesn’t want you to be vulnerable. I mean, you’re already a target because you’re the mayor’s daughter, but a pretty thing like you? You should probably be under full-time protection.”

You really do slip then, gasping as your feet slide out from under you. Peter tugs you close to his side, not letting you move forward more than an inch. “Easy, easy,” he says as you clutch at him, trying to stabilize yourself. Now there’s a little pink coloring your cheeks, too. “I gotcha.”

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tteokdoroki · 10 months

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☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. in every other universe.

about. “in every other universe, gwen stacey falls for spiderman. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well.” - inspired by this bkg art @/kingkatsuki sent me and by self love.

warnings. none. fluff, slight angst, happy ending, across the spiderverse spoilers, spiderverse!bakugou & fem!reader.

once you know that you’re not the only one out there — it’s hard to go back to your regular life. not everyone can do the things that katsuki bakugou can do, you know, shoot webs, fight crime and save the day. it’s isolating. it’s lonely. he knows that he should feel blessed, it’s not every day that you’re given superhuman abilities and the power to change the world.

some days the truth about his identity, the words ‘i’m spiderman.’ sit eagerly on the tip of his tongue — desperate to be pushed out into open and heard by the people he loves. his mom, his dad, even his stupid roommate, kirishima. but if bakugou burdens them with the truth, then he puts them at risk too. losing his childhood friend deku had been more than enough, he couldn’t lose someone else too.

other days he remembers there are others just like him, dotted across the universe in their own connections and constellations — there’s his mentor, there’s his friends… there’s you. it’s been a year since your world’s were once able to collide and bakugou has tried (and failed) to move on from you and devote himself to saving the day. your smile, your eyes, your drive, your bravery — he would be stupid to purposely forget all of that.

he’s also a little weird for kicking back in his desk chair, mindlessly spinning around his dorm room (after patching himself up where katsuki had just gotten his ass kicked) thinking about the curve of your lips and how your voice sounds when you speak…

“hey katsuki! katsuki… wanna hangout?”

in surprise, the blonde tips backwards in his seat, bakugou’s back hitting the floor with a harsh thud that causes pain to blossom somewhere along his shoulder blades. “what the fuck?” he grunts through a stream of colourful curses. he must be imagining things. crushing too hard on someone he’s not supposed to ever be able to see again. you can’t be here. it’s not physically possible.

but through his searing pain and frustrated hisses, bakugou manages to crack a ruby red eye open — letting his gaze bare witness to the swirling, bright portal in his ceiling and the girl he’s still hung up over just peeking through.

he really has to watch out for those punches to the head — he’s going insane.

“what the actual fuck?”

amused laughter streams from between your lips, muffled slightly by the signature piece of a spider-person’s consume. you pull back the mask of your spider-suit which don the colours of your universe and grin. bright and beautiful. it makes bakugou’s heart squeeze in his chest. “dang, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” you tease, letting the web that holds you up sink further out of the portal until you’re hanging just above the foul-mouthed blonde. “good to see you too, hot shot.”

“what— how are y’even here?” bakugou sits up, fighting the twitches in his face and the real meaning to words on the tip of his tongue. i missed you.

your face tells the story he longs too, your pretty eyes nostalgic and warm. you’ve missed him as well. “oh you know, just thought i’d swing by.”

“that was fuckin’ terrible.”

“come on, katsuki, you liked it.” i like you. is what he really wants to say back.

he can practically feel your breathy laughter on his lips and taste your vanilla perfume. hanging upside down and in front of him is way too compromising of a position — he might kiss you if he’s not careful.

“fuckin’ dumbass.” bakugou puts a hand on your face and uses it to push you away before you can get any closer. you lose your balance, coming crashing down from the ceiling once your web snaps and the portal closes. he’s quick to crawl over to you, not evening thinking about boundaries or space… not when there’s been entire universes and timelines between you up until this moment. “shit, you okay? forgot how clumsy you were.”

he utters fondly, mostly under his breath — in a way that’s impossible to miss with how bakugou leans over you. his face full of bursting concern. you don’t dare to move, taking in said face. observing how much it’s changed since you were last on earth-420. how his eyes are harder, less youthful but still wild. how his lips look softer, fuller — you wonder what chapstick he’s been using. how his chin is stronger and his face more defined and his nose slightly shifted and—

“you’re no different than before, still a meanie.” you quip, voice wistful. quiet. “you grew out your hair.” reaching up, you brush your fingers over the soft tips of his ash blonde locks — closing your eyes at the feel of them, as if you’re basking in sunlight.

“yeah.” bakugou hums. “yours is different too.”

“you think? do you like it?”

“‘f’course.” he keens into your touch as it cascades down to his cheeks. “you always look good.”

“you haven’t seen me in a while.”

“doesn’t mean i don’t think about you.”

“ah…me too.”

“y’think about me?”

a beat of silence passes and you don’t speak for a while. you’re both afraid you might hear each other’s hearts racing. “ever since i jumped back into that collider.” rolling out from underneath katsuki, you sit up with your back to him and fiddle with your spandex mask. “let’s go for a swing.”

you’re up and throwing open his dorm window before bakugou can even register — leaving him to deal with his erratic pulse and pink kissed cheeks. it’s crazy how time apart made him only want you more. how he can’t have you because you’re not even meant to be here, even if there’s some kind of gravitational force from the universe pulling you together. when you don’t hear him coming after you, you turn to face him from the window ledge — he can see the longing even in the reflective lenses of your suit.

“you coming?”

bakugou’s entire body screams at him to say yes, every fibre of his being itching to be with you. but his one fatal flaw keeps him rooted in place on his knees. he can’t hurt you. can't tell you his feelings knowing he’ll never have a way of acting on them.

“can’t, got homework.” he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “i’m a college kid now, remember?”

he can already tell that you’re rolling your eyes from under the mask even when you shrug back — tipping yourself out of the window, knowing that he’ll chase you. bakugou watches you, half amused, half annoyed as you stand up straight and defy all laws of everything by sticking to the side of his dorm building.

“does Spider-Man have homework?”

all he can do is shake his head at you. both in amusement and in disbelief.

talking to you eases all the tension katsuki bakugou’s shoulders bare.

it’s easy to be with you because you understand what it’s like to be alone in protecting the people you love and the communities you care about. hiding your face and cowering away from friends and family in the real world — every day life. you get why wearing the mask is both a blessing and a curse. it cost you your mother’s love. it cost you your home. and now you surf through universes to find your place amongst the other spider people that exist… and yet, katsuki, as you confess — is the only one to bring you comfort.

whilst swinging and soaring through the streets of katsuki’s city, you tell him all of the nitty gritty details. no one wants a vigilante for a daughter. he holds his tongue in telling you that he wants you instead. you giggle when you explain to him all the worlds you’ve seen and people you’ve met through being apart of this elite spider-team. and when bakugou asks how a pipsqueak like you managed to get in before he did — you cock your head to the side innocently and say…

“you’re an asshole, katsuki. we can’t have you clashing with the number one in charge.”

bakugou has to pull his mask up to breathe while he laughs — snorting so hard that he almost misses a stride while swinging through the sunset-stained streets with you. by the time golden hour sets it’s sights upon you both, he’s taken you to the highest point in musutafu to watch the sun disappear beyond the horizon.

when the world gets him down — katsuki comes up here to think and clear his head of any doubts that might be holding him back. it’s peaceful up here, away from the crime cracking on below and the bustling mundane city traffic. often times, he thinks of you too…so sharing this spot with you by his side is extremely intimate to him.

you’re talking but bakugou will admit he’s not really listening, too entranced by the shapes your lips form around each word, at least until you say his name. “you’re the only one who’s ever, truly got me, katsuki.” you tell him, swinging your feet off the ledge of the building. if you fall, your instincts would catch you…but you know katsuki would be the first to save you.

“could say the same thing about you.” he admits, the burnt orange spider crest on his chest heaving with bakugou’s nervous sigh. he pinches at the black latex suit covering his fingers — debating on inching his hand closer to yours.

if you notice, you don’t say anything about it. “in every other universe, spiderman gets the girl.” katsuki swallows as you speak, ruby eyes darting all over your pretty face outlined by warm tone natural lights — your masks long discarded. “and in every other universe…it doesn’t end well. for either of them.”

you don’t bother finishing your sentence, swallowing the lump in your throat along with the fate you might meet if you lean into your greed to be with katsuki. it’s only then that you notice his hand slipping away, retreating behind the wall he builds up around himself — to keep himself closed off and protected from getting hurt.

“i wish i could change that.” he mumbles distantly, looking out at the world, the universe as if he’s been scorned. cursed by the mask once more. it’s like the stars have turned against him and are mocking him as they come out to play — reminding bakugou that everyone he’s ever loved will get hurt because of him…eventually. everyone including you. “prove ‘em wrong, yanno?”

even still, he offers you his signature lazy smirk and twinkling mischievous red eyes and you can’t help but fall for him all over again.

“yeah,” comes your soft reply. “maybe there’s a chance that things can work out.”

“a first time for everythin’, yeah?”

this time, neither of you pull back as your head comes to rest on his shoulder.

for a moment, the world stills. freezing time for the only two people in the universe may truly understand one another.

freezing, for you and katsuki.

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universalitgirlsblog2 · 4 months

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💖💋🥂IT GIRL ERA 2024💖💋🥂

💋1) Start putting yourself first . Choose yourself Put your own needs and wants first. What do they advice in flight ? First put your oxygen mask and then try to put others oxygen masks. It's not about oxygen masks.

💖2) Get a social media detox. Social media can be very toxic. We often get into fights with strangers or see toxic people in the comment section or compare ourselves with others. Get off Tumblr , Instagram , Facebook etc. It will help you alot.

🥂3)Get rid of victim mentality. Victim mentality can make things worse for you. You aren't a victim of your reality , you are the creator of your reality. Start taking responsibility and control of your life .

💋4) Believe in yourself . Like Elle Woods said , " most importantly you must have faith in yourself." You must have unwavering faith in yourself . It doesn't matter if others perceive you as less , make sure you don't perceive yourself as less. Your opinion of yourself matters the most.

🥂5) Start taking care of yourself. Self care will save you . Always put your self care first. Go to gym or workout at home. Do skincare. Take care of your hair. Get a mini hair spa. Self care will increase your energy and lower your stress levels. It will boost your self-esteem too.

💖6) Create a vision board. You can make vision board on Pinterest or make one in real life. Just make sure it inspires you and reminds you of your goals. Vision boards are very powerful tool.

💋7) Stop focusing on others. Focus on you. Don't think good or bad about anyone . Be focused on how you can make yourself better. If you don't get time to think about others , good ! Focus on yourself. Except the ones who are close to you , you shouldn't think about others or compare yourself . Just focus on how you can get ahead and make yourself better. I hope this made sense.

🥂8) Love yourself. Self love will save you. Listen , write or speak affirmations. Adopt the IDAF mindset , stop caring about others opinions. Don't compare yourself with others. Let go of toxic cycles and people. Be kind to yourself.

💖9) Remember what Jang Wonyoung said ? I DON'T CARE. YOU ARE YOU , I AM ME . ADOPT THIS MENTALITY. Enter your wonyoungism era !! Wonyoung said that if it's something she didn't do , then she doesn't care. That's where her iconic statement " you are you I am me " came from . Start being okay with people misunderstanding you. Don't try to explain yourself and waste your energy.

💋10) Give importance to your education . Education is the most powerful weapon. Read books. Watch documentaries. Study to learn , not just for good grades.

🥂11) Value your time. Realize how important your present moment is. Don't waste time on unproductive things. Do things that your future self will thank you for . Don't do things that your future self will curse you for.

💖12) Have different role models for different things. Let's say for developing a strong mindset , you can look upto Song Jia , Wonyoung or The wizard liz and for academics , you can look upto Hermione Granger , Elle Woods or Rory Gilmore .

💋13) Stop fighting with stupid people. Even strangers online ! Honestly , strangers online can be very toxic , annoying and stupid. Don't waste your energy arguing with stupid people or people who aren't willing to understand or listen .

💖14) Stop looking yourself through the lens of your past self. It's okay if you made some mistakes . Mistakes are the proof that you are trying. Forgive yourself and learn from them. Stop putting yourself down and keep those mistakes as a lesson. Yes you made some mistakes but after those mistakes , you learnt and made yourself better.

🥂15) No more self- depreciating humor. Your mind doesn't know the difference between reality , fiction or a joke.

💖💋🥂This advice is very basic and simple. But this advice will help you alot. Don't just read this post , make sure you follow this. Happy new year !!! 💖💋🥂

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p4p1l0nn · 5 months

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“brew-tiful banter”

pairing: barista!jaehyun x reader (featuring jungwoo and doyoung)

genre: romcom, slice of life, comedy, mystery, friendship, coffee culture.

word count: 2.5k

a/n: not my top pick, but decided to let it see the light. take a peek, share your thoughts if you want. enjoy the read!

like any other day, jaehyun greeted his regulars with a warm smile as they entered the cozy coffee shop. the aroma of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air, creating an inviting atmosphere.

“hey there, sarah! the usual caramel latte to kickstart your day?” jaehyun grinned as he prepared her favorite drink.

sarah chuckled, “you know me too well, jaehyun. you coffee is my morning lifesaver.”

a new customer walked in, and jaehyun welcomed them, “welcome! first time here? our coffee's so good it should be illegal.”

the newcomer laughed, “i'll have whatever's the house specialty.”

“the house special? that's a bold move!” jaehyun winked. “how about a velvety mocha with a hint of hazelnut? it's our secret weapon.”

as the coffee grinder whirred in the background, jaehyun engaged with another regular, mark. “mark, my man! how's the novel coming along?”

mark sighed, “slowly, but your espresso shots keep the ideas flowing.”

with a grin, jaehyun replied, “that's what i'm here for – brewing inspiration one shot at a time!”

the mix of laughter, the clinking of mugs, and the hum of conversation filled the air, creating a lively ambiance. the smell of freshly ground coffee beans lingered, inviting customers to savor both the delightful banter and the rich aroma.

but that was before. the once lively jaehyun, whom customers adored for his infectious energy, had now transformed into a more somber version of himself. despite the change, his dedication to excellent customer service remained unmatched.

as he greeted customers, there was a noticeable absence of his signature enthusiasm. “hey there,” he would say, a faint smile attempting to mask the subdued tone. the nickname “brewmaster bummer” circulated among regulars, a stark contrast to his former title.

a long-time friend, jungwoo, sensed the change and asked, “you seem a bit off today. everything okay?”

he sighed, “just one of those days, you know? but don't worry, the latte is still going to be as perfect as ever.”

jungwoo nodded understandingly, “well, if you need someone to talk to, we're here for you too.”

the coffee shop atmosphere retained its charm, but a hint of nostalgia lingered. the smell of coffee beans mixed with an underlying melancholy, creating an unusual blend. despite the change in jaehyun's demeanor, his banter still resonated, though it lacked the sparkle it once had.

a new customer, unaware of the transformation, approached the counter. “hey, i heard this place has the best banter in town. what's the secret?”

jaehyun managed a small grin, “ah, the secret ingredient is a dash of wit and a sprinkle of charm. welcome to brewmaster bummer's, where even the gloomiest days can't dampen our dedication to good coffee and, well, decent banter.

“and as much as i want to serve our specialty, i'm sorry to say that we're closed,” jaehyun declared with his usual wit, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “jungwoo must have forgotten to put the 'closed' sign again.”

the customer sighed, “that's a bummer. i should have brought my friend earlier today, but she's too busy to even step foot in any store. i guess we'll have to come again then.”

jaehyun chuckled, “tell your friend not to worry. brewmaster bummer's is always here, and we'll have the banter ready for her next visit.”

as the customer left with a promise to return, jaehyun exchanged a knowing glance with jungwoo, who shrugged apologetically. the coffee shop may have been closing its doors, but jaehyun's spark of banter remained, leaving a lingering anticipation for the next day's interactions.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

“order for the brave souls, your bold double-shot espressos are ready!”

a guy who visits everyday with his regular orders approached the counter. with a cheeky smile, jaehyun handed him the cups.

“bold and ready, just the way i like it," he grinned, taking the cups. “fuel for conquering the day.”

curiosity got the better of jaehyun, and he quirked an eyebrow, “does your friend always ask you to get her order? i feel like i've been making these double-shots for weeks now.”

the guy chuckled, “she's a busy lady, always on the run. i'm just the coffee messenger.”

jaehyun laughed, “ah, the coffee courier! well, i appreciate your dedication to delivering the caffeine goods. by the way, i never got your name. no need for introductions, you might already know mine.” he winked playfully.

he joined in the banter, “yeah, jaehyun the banter. the name's doyoung.”

grinning mischievously, jaehyun couldn't resist a playful jab, “so, doyoung, when do i get to see this 'double shots of espresso' lady in person? is she avoiding the legendary banter brewmaster?”

doyoung laughed, “oh, she's a mystery. always on a caffeine quest, but rarely spotted in the wild. you'll just have to keep brewing those double shots, and maybe one day she'll reveal herself.”

jaehyun, leaning on the counter, feigned disappointment, “ah, the elusive coffee connoisseur. i'll keep the banter extra sharp for her eventual appearance.”

their banter continued, with doyoung sharing more stories of his mysterious friend's coffee preferences, and jaehyun adding his own theatrical twists to each tale. the coffee shop, usually filled with the comforting aroma of brewing coffee, now also echoed with the shared laughter of the banter duo.

as doyoung left with his usual order, jaehyun called after him, “tell the espresso enthusiast she's missing out on some top-tier banter!”

doyoung waved back with a smile, “i'll let her know. maybe one day she'll take on the challenge.”

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

a few days passed, and jaehyun's mood seemed to uplift bit by bit. despite his persistent gloom, he managed to pull off the banter routine, but occasionally, a shadow still crossed his face. perhaps it was the absence of his favorite mystery regular, who hadn't made their double-shot order in days. the reason remained unknown.

one day, as jaehyun absentmindedly stared into the coffee beans, jungwoo, his ever-supportive colleague, nudged him, “hey, jaehyun, feeling the coffee blues again? missing the elusive double-shot enthusiast?”

he sighed, “yeah, it's been a while. wonder what happened to doyoung's friend. maybe she found a new favorite coffee spot.”

jungwoo grinned, “or maybe she's on a caffeine detox. you know, trying to banish the coffee spirits for a while.”

despite his lingering melancholy, jaehyun chuckled, “coffee detox? that's like trying to ban banter in here. impossible!”

jungwoo playfully continued, “maybe she's preparing a grand entrance. the return of the mysterious coffee lover, starring doyoung and jaehyun, the dynamic duo of banter and brew.”

jaehyun couldn't help but smile, “i like that plot twist. maybe we should spice up the banter even more. make her reappearance unforgettable.”

and there goes the ring, signaling a customer. jaehyun's eyes darted to the clock – exactly 4 pm. could it be—

“double espresso shots, please,” a voice requested, but it wasn't doyoung's.

jungwoo approached the counter with a friendly smile, “sure thing! we've got a thing for double shots today. what brings you here?”

the girl chuckled, “my friend got sick of me asking the same thing and told me to come myself.”

jungwoo's eyes lit up with recognition, “sounds familiar. are you perhaps doyoung's friend?”

caught off guard, you chuckled, “well, aren't you a detective in disguise? guilty as charged.”

jungwoo laughed, “you're the mystery double-shot enthusiast he's been talking about, aren't you?”

you nodded with a mock serious expression, “i am. i come in peace, armed only with an insatiable love for double shots.”

with a playful grin, jungwoo nudged jaehyun, who seemed momentarily lost in words. his sudden all-talk demeanor had vanished, leaving only silence in its wake. “well, lover boy, you heard her. make her the regular and show off your specialty.”

jaehyun, finally finding his words, chuckled, “alright, alright, the specialty it is. get ready for a taste bud adventure, espresso lady.”

as jaehyun prepared the coffee, he couldn't help but add, “i'll brew it with an extra sprinkle of magic, just for you.”

jungwoo teased, “a sprinkle of magic? watch out, jaehyun's turning into a coffee wizard. maybe he'll even add a dash of love potion.”

you laughed, “love potion in coffee? now that's a unique selling point. i'll take my chances.”

jaehyun worked on your regular order, jungwoo engaged you in conversation, “so, where's doyoung been? we've missed our fellow banter enthusiast.”

you shrugged, “oh, he's on a mission, exploring uncharted coffee territories. said something about discovering a hidden gem.”

jungwoo laughed, “hidden gem, huh? maybe he'll find the banter diamond mine. we could use some extra sparkle around here.”

you joined in the humor, “well, if anyone can uncover a banter diamond, it's doyoung. maybe he'll bring it back for the grand reopening.”

as the two of you bantered back and forth, jaehyun couldn't help but stare at you in awe. your playful demeanor and easygoing banter had injected a fresh energy into the coffee shop, and jaehyun found himself captivated by the newfound presence.

jaehyun gazed at you, his heart seemed to skip a beat, much like the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans that permeated the air. it wasn't just your captivating smile or the way your eyes lit up with each playful remark; it was an inexplicable warmth, akin to the comforting embrace of a perfectly brewed cup of coffee.

your laughter echoed in his mind like the melody of a well-steamed espresso machine, filling the quiet spaces with a delightful hum. jaehyun found himself enchanted by the way your eyes sparkled, reminiscent of the gleam on the surface of a freshly brewed espresso, rich and inviting.

he couldn't help but notice the graceful way you carried yourself, akin to the smooth and velvety texture of a well-poured latte. your presence was like the perfect coffee blend, a harmonious mix of sweet and bold, leaving an indelible imprint on his senses.

every word you spoke was a flavor note in his heart, a symphony of tastes that danced like frothy milk on the surface of a cappuccino. and as he crafted your specialty drink, he realized that, much like the meticulous art of brewing coffee, there was an art to the way you added a touch of magic to the ordinary.

perhaps it was the way your laughter lingered in the air, like the aromatic notes of a freshly brewed pour-over. or the gentle way you leaned in during the banter, reminiscent of the careful pour of a velvety flat white. jaehyun found himself lost in the warmth of your presence, much like the comforting embrace of a favorite coffee mug on a chilly morning.

and just like a well-prepared cup of coffee, you left an aftertaste — a sweet and lingering essence that made jaehyun yearn for more-

“oh shi-”

immersed in admiration of you, reality struck, and he yelped. his coffee daydreaming had led to an unintentional overpour, and a splash of hot coffee stung his hand. jungwoo, the good friend he is, burst into laughter.

“smooth move, barista extraordinaire!” jungwoo teased, laughter echoing through the coffee shop.

your playful grin hiding a hint of concern, quipped, “well, that's one way to spice up the brew, isn't it? hot coffee, hotter hands.”

jaehyun, now a mix of embarrassment and shyness, stammered, “w-well, you see, i was just, uh, lost in the aroma of the coffee, and then, um, things got a bit too dreamy . . .”

jungwoo, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, chimed in with a hearty laugh, “lost in the aroma, huh? i didn't know coffee daydreams could be so dangerous. maybe we should get you a helmet, buddy, to protect you from those hazardous beans.”

“who knew coffee brewing could be such an extreme sport? i'll have to be careful around here, might get caught in the crossfire of a barista's daydream.” you playfully added.

the poor barista, still recovering from the coffee mishap, managed a sheepish grin, “s-sorry about that. i guess my mind wandered into the coffee fields without a map.”

jungwoo, still relishing the moment, teased, “more like into the coffee clouds. next time, warn us before you take a caffeine-powered trip, captain jaehyun.”

with a playful grin, he nudged jaehyun and added, “or is it because you're nervous? coffee daydreaming might be your secret escape from the mysteries of the heart.”

jaehyun, now fully embracing the good-natured banter, rolled his eyes, “nervous? please, i handle coffee pressure like a pro. it's just, uh, occupational hazards.”

you, shyly enjoying the banter, quipped, “well, captain jaehyun, if your coffee daydreams are anything to go by, i'd say you're navigating the coffee seas just fine.”

jungwoo, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, continued to playfully prod, “maybe you need a co-captain to help you steer through those daydream storms. preferably someone with a good sense of direction.”

the trio chuckled, the coffee shop once again filled with the lighthearted melody of their banter. as the laughter subsided, jaehyun, with a flourish, finished preparing your coffee and handed it to you.

“here you go, espresso navigator. a brew crafted with the precision of a well-charted course and the heart of a caffeine adventurer. may it fuel your journey until our next coffee-filled escapade.”

you, smiling at the banter, accepted the cup with a playful thank you.

finally, you prepared to leave, the banter had woven a comfortable atmosphere, and you playfully remarked, “well, my lunch break is up, it's my cue to leave. thanks for the coffee and laughter, boys. see you around.”

jungwoo, ever the jester, grinned, “anytime you need a caffeine pick-me-up or a good laugh, you know where to find us.”

jaehyun, still recovering from his coffee mishap, added with a sheepish smile, “yeah, and next time, i promise not to turn the coffee shop into a comedy stage.”

you chuckled warmly, “oh, i don't mind a bit of coffee theater. it adds to the charm. and by the way, even if doyoung warned me you both are double trouble, i must say, you're not so bad after all.”

as you gracefully walked out, jaehyun, struck by an unexpected surge of realization, dramatically grasped jungwoo, who nearly tripped in bewildered confusion.

“i forgot to ask for her number!” jaehyun exclaimed, wide-eyed and dramatically clutching his chest as if he'd missed out on the last bean in the coffee bag.

jungwoo, eyes rolling, retorted, “your moves are as weak as decaf. you didn't even bother with the name.”

their banter continued, a hilarious exchange of blame and accusations, transforming the coffee shop into a spontaneous comedy show. back and forth they went until, in the midst of their banter, the closing lines arrived.

“next time, maybe start with a simple 'hi, i'm jaehyun.' that might save you from tripping over both words and your own feet.” suggested jungwoo with a sly grin.

but jaehyun, seemingly lost in his own world, responded with a dreamy smile, “i think i might be in love.”

jungwoo, catching onto the shift in the atmosphere, raised an eyebrow and remarked, “love? you sure it's not just a caffeine-induced daydream?”

jaehyun, still smiling, shrugged, “who knows? maybe my heart just found its favorite blend.”

#jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #nct 127 #nct #jaehyun nct #nct jaehyun #barista au #jaehyun smut #nct scenarios #nct imagines

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marciaillust · 17 days

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How long does it take for you to finish drawing?

I'm an artist (beginner) and i unconsciously set unrealistic goals for myself and need a reminder of how long it takes to complete a drawing, Thanks.

Hi! In the context you presented it in, that is a really interesting question, so I'll try to approach it thoroughly. I hope I won't make you roll your eyes too much.

Where to start, where to start... I guess the first thing I should say is that there is a difference between time I spend preforming the action of <drawing>, and the time I spent <working> on a particular piece. The first would be counted in hours, the second one - days. I'm a big believer in slowing things down, and giving things time - going through options, gathering research and references, taking breaks every 1h of sitting and drawing - and seeing things through until I achieve the goal I set at the beginning of the process.

The goals are usually different each time: "quick design", "character exploration", "analysis of an artist's linework and experimenting with the knowledge gained", "creating an aesthetically pleasing image", and so on and so forth. Of course I don't write these down like it's a school assignment, but knowing in the back of my head what I'm actually doing helps me manage my expectations. I also enjoy being conscious of why I create - when I was younger regardless of what I was doing I had the thought "AND IT MUST LOOK GOOD AND PRESENTABLE! BECAUSE PEOPLE WILL LOOK!" ...and I think that obsession is the cancer of creative process.

Since the goals for each picture are different, the time I'll spent on achieving each one will be different as well, because the "satisfactory results" lay in different places. For example, the Marcile sketchpage was created in one afternoon, and took approximately 3 hours. The goal was to play around with a brush that has no opacity forcing my lines to be more decisive. I did that and so it is "finished". There's nothing else I want from it.

On the other hand, the cover of Asterism took about 10 days to create, the goal of which was to make "an aesthetically pleasing cover picture taking colour inspiration from the works of (specific list of artists)". I took my time designing it so that it looks aesthetically pleasing, made sure the anatomy is "correct" (a nebulous statement when it comes to stylised humans), took my time masking, and picking colours, and shading. I wanted it to "look good" to my own eyes so if something was not working I would go back, change it, alter it, move it around... that's the wonderful thing about personal art, you can take as long as you like making something satisfactory.

The funny thing is, with what the Asterism cover actually is (a cellshaded image), it could have been done probably in 4 days by the me 4 years ago. But that person was willing to sit 8-10 hours a day to draw with no breaks, she had little social life, and treated herself as a little circus seal performing tricks so that people clap around her, and the clapping was soooo nice because it meant that people remembered her and she mattered. And it worked for her! For long 10 years! Until her arm gave out, and the reality of never being able to draw again became more tangible than ever, and it's been following her like a fog ever since for the past 4 years. The me today works about 4 hours a day and every hour I take about a 30 minute break. I also don't post half the stuff I draw. There is also another aspect that dictates the speed of creating and that is familiarity with the subject matter. The less you know something, the fast you'll draw it! But as you get to know the intricacies of the process, and see all the building blocks, it will start taking *longer* because you will start accounting for every block. But then you'll eventually get familiar with the blocks and so the time spent on a picture will go down again! The cool yet overwhelming thing about art is that, there are always hundreds of building blocks. Form, composition, ambient occlusion, saturation, hue, light balance, line form...... and those are just the *some* of the generalised *categories*. And each category will have it's own subsection of building blocks! And then those blocks will interact with each other to create completely new area of expertise! This is crazy! Marcille sketch page took me only 3 hours to create because I am already quite familiar with linework - I have drawn 3-4 comicbooks worth of linework. This also means I am familiar with believable anatomy, more or less, which got utilised in the Asterism cover - the main bulk of linework got created during a 3h livestream. So.... what's the answer.... "It's all relative" is so unsatisfactory and probably not what you looked for. But you can draw something in 3 days and kill your body over it. Or you can become an expert in a field and dish the same picture out effortlessly in 8 hours. You can also split that 8h block over multiple days bringing you back up to 3 days. You could even add a whole day of visual research which might make your picture only marginally better. And even if we calculate it in terms of raw working time, pen-to-paper, like a self-inflicted capitalist tumor, that time can fluctuate still due to personal visual library and knowledge base. If I asked Tom Fox how long it takes for him to create his sketch pages his answer would probably be downward of 30 minutes. Yet I need whole 3 hours to create something *less* anatomically correct than him. And so here we are at the end of this perhaps unnecessary essay. And all we learned is this: it depends. Dry, not nuanced tl;dr, my personal timings: single sketch - 30mins; single linework pic 1-2h; Cellshaded illust - 16h; Rendered illust: 20-25h.

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dancinglikebutterflywings · 23 days

Text

Leave The Past Behind | Park Seonghwa

-> Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Reader

-> Request: No. I just watched Hotel Del Luna and finished Goblin a few weeks ago. I got inspired. I thought about making this a series but I'm not sure yet. Let me know if you want more.

-> Synopsis: Y/N encounters her past love again.

-> Warnings: Supernatural element. Mentions of past lives. An old lady deity.

-> Word Count: 754

-> Requests: Open.

ATEEZ Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines

Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you.

Y/N stands on the corner of street adorned with cherry blossom trees. The air is filled with a sweet, floral scent, her favourite scent. As she stands there, a gentle breeze stirs, causing the petals to dance and twirl in the air before gracefully descending to the ground. With a smile, she extends her hand and manages to catch one of the petals. Just as the petal brushes her skin a sudden gust of wind sweeps through, snatching the petal away from her.

As the petal floats further away from her, Y/N’s attention is drawn to a figure approaching from the distance. Her smile fades as he recognizes him. He’s a familiar face that she had once held dear.

As he walks pass her, he bows his head slightly, a warm smile on his handsome face, in greeting, before continuing on his way to wherever he’s heading. As she watches him walk further away, her face remains stoic, her emotions hidden behind a mask of indifference. But deep in her eyes, a flicker of hurt and longing can be seen. Her heart aches, burdened from the curse that had been placed on her as images of their past encounters flash through her mind, until it settles on one memory. It’s a memory from centuries ago.

“You shouldn’t be with a commoner,” his voice rings loud, as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, before cupping her cheek. “A noble woman like you should be with a man of her status.”

“But I don’t want a man of nobility,” she tells him, turning her head and places a soft kiss on his palm. “I want the man who holds my heart. The man standing in front of me right now. The man I love more than life itself. I only want you. I only need you.”

Shaking her head, pushing away all the mixed emotions, she continues her walk back to her apartment only to step back in surprised when she finds the old lady who has been a pain in her side since her first life centuries ago.

"Aish," she says under her breath, frowning at the deity disguised as a sweet little old lady. She was anything but.

"Avoiding him isn't going to break your curse," The old woman smiles. The smile doesn't match the overly friendly tone of her voice.

"I'm beginning to think you don't know how to break it," the younger woman says, glaring into her soul. “That I was just some experiment to you.”

"You must confront it," the old woman advises. "Confront your sins, leave the past behind you, and begin anew. Do not flee this time. It’s really that simple. I was so sure you’d have it figured out and broken by your third life."

"I-"

"Excuse me."

A voice from behind Y/N interrupts her and causes the old woman to disappear with a smirk. She swears under her breath before turning to face the person. Her heart skips a beat seeing him, the man she has loved and lost many times standing before her.

"I found this back there," he says holding up her wallet and pointing down the street in the direction he’d been walking in.

Her eyes grow wide, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she frantically searches her bag for her wallet, which she was certain was safely tucked away.

"I... I must have dropped it," she stutters, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude towards him. The relief quickly fades as she realizes that this was the work of the deity, fuelling a hidden anger within her.

He smiles warmly, handing her the wallet. "I checked the ID and recognized you. I'm glad I caught you so I could return it to you instead of taking it to the police station."

"I can't believe I didn't realize it was missing."

He shrugs, his eyes filled with empathy. "It happens to the best of us."

She nods, "You're right. Thank you..."

"Park Seonghwa," he introduces himself, bowing slightly and extending his hand to her.

"Thank you, Park Seonghwa," she expresses her gratitude with a kind smile, shaking his hand.

"I don't usually do this, but would you like to go get a coffee?" he asks, appearing unsure and nervous. "If you're not busy... I mean, you don't have to... I don't-"

"I would love to," she interrupts him this time, the words of the deity echoing in her mind. Confront your sins, leave the past behind you, and start anew.

TAGGING: @staytiny2000 - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @rainydayteacups - @green-agent - @tinyelfperson - @yeonjunnie – @hollxe1 – @laylasbunbunny – @deltamoon666 - @skz1-4-3 - @pinkies-things

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sserpente · 9 days

Text

The Weight of a Promise - Part II

Synopsis: One month has passed since you reluctantly became Lord Gortash's concubine. You ought to hate him--yet your heart seems to disagree.

A/N: When inspiration strikes…you gotta strike back! Took a bit longer than I expected but here we go! :D

You can read Part I here!

Words: 2523 Warnings: violence, blood, mentions of prostitution, concubine!Reader

“Good morning, dear. I take it you’ve had sweet dreams?”

You stirred, eyes flying open. You were warm, and comfortable. Cosy. Your head was resting on Gortash’s naked chest, his right arm pressing you close against his body. You had gotten so used to his presence and the intimacy between you that you didn’t even flinch away when his fingertips ghosted over your bare shoulder but instead…took relish in it.

“Morning…”

One whole month. You had been keeping an eye on the calendar on Gortash’s desk. You were surprised, to say the least. Part of you had suspected he would grow tired of you after a few days and move on to the next whore he’d be given for free. Perhaps one that would throw herself at him.

Alas, as much as you hated to admit it, you had begun to enjoy his company. Enver Gortash was as insufferable as he was megalomaniacal. But he was charming, too. No wonder the city gladly accepted him as its hero and saviour.

His mask was perfect. You very much doubted he truly did have a heart for the homeless and the poor though. Only yesterday had you overheard him talk about increasing the tax rates for small businesses for more profit to put into his Steel Watch. Now that you spent so much time with him, you would have believed his chivalry too had you not known the truth. A good man did not keep concubines, not like this. A good man did not have rumours spread about him worshipping one of the dead three.

And yet, despite everything, part of you was growing…grateful. He’d kept his promise. Thanks to him, you barely remembered what hunger was now. He had gotten you so many dresses you could never decide what to wear and every night, you shared his bed, warm and comfortable, nestled underneath his soft sheets.

The sex was phenomenal, of course. Just like the very first time he had claimed you, you would be lying if you insisted it wasn’t a pleasurable experience for you. Only it was empty, meaningless. Why else would he keep you around if not for a wet hole to fuck when he was overcome with lust?

The more time you were forced to spend with him, the more you realised that you wanted him to like you for more than your body. To know that you were more than an object for him to play with and entertain himself with and to convince yourself and your stupid feelings that he was not the villain you took him for. To soothe your own conscience.

It could be Stockholm Syndrome, you thought, chewing on your lower lip. But then again, he had told you that you were free to go the very day you arrived, made it seem like it had been your own choice to become a slave to his most carnal desires in exchange for your basic human needs to be met.

The mornings all started the same. You and Gortash had breakfast together, after that he tended to his archduke business and you remained in bed for a while longer, reading the books he owned. He’d call you over at some point, eager for your company—or your body.

As of right now, he was finished with his duties for the day. After a rich lunch, he’d insisted on taking a walk with you by the sea near Wyrm’s Rock to take his mind off things, a Steel Watcher always in close vicinity to protect him.

“You are not focusing at all, are you, dear? Could you at least put in a little bit of effort? Make it a challenge for me!”

You blinked. You’d been staring at the lance board for what must have been several minutes with your knees tucked and your chin resting between them. Gortash had insisted you played with him tonight. Only you had no idea how.

“I don’t know how to play,” you admitted.

Amusement flashed over Gortash’s handsome face. “You don’t know how to play lance board? Truly?”

You shook your head.

He took a deep breath. “Well, in that case…it is rather simple. There are six pieces in the game that—”

“Why did you increase the tax rates?” You couldn’t help it. The question left your lips before you could stop yourself. You were curious.

Gortash paused, momentary surprise marking his features. “And since when exactly, pray tell, do I discuss political matters with my concubine?”

“It’s just a question. I overheard you passing the bill.”

“You mean you were eavesdropping.”

You frowned. “You knew I was right there.”

“Ah, yes.” He chuckled. But then, nothing.

“So?”

“Protection is expensive, my dear. My Steel Watch requires constant maintenance. Maintenance that requires materials. Materials that cost money.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Pardon me?”

“I’ve seen the documents. You have two vaults at the Counting House. Two vaults that are bulging with gold.” You’d caught a glimpse at the numbers, black ink on a fresh roll of parchment one morning while he’d made you keep his cock warm for him at his desk. You swallowed. “If you truly had the city’s best interest at heart you would be reaching into your own pockets to help out. That is true charity.”

Gortash raised an eyebrow. He appeared amused, if anything. “I am giving the citizens of Baldur’s Gate a purpose. By contributing in the form of taxes, they are contributing to keeping the city and themselves safe. And unlike my own fortunes, tax money is in constant circulation.”

You scoffed. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself.”

“I will not have you criticize my rule, my dear. Were you a lady or an adviser of mine, I could have your head for this without anyone batting an eyelash.”

Too far. You swallowed. So much for trying to convince yourself he was not a villain. “I apologise.”

“Good. Now, as I said. There are six types of pieces in the game. The first—”

Gortash was interrupted yet again. This time, however, by an airborne knife knocking the piece he pointed to straight to the ground where it shattered into a dozen pieces.

“Playing with your whore instead of working? You disappoint me, lordling.”

Gortash stiffened visibly. “Orin.”

Your eyes widened when you turned to face the unwanted visitor. She was as pale as the moon itself, with white creamy eyes piercing your soul. And her clothes…where they made of…skin? She staggered closer on bare feet, retrieving her dagger.

“You’ll find I have made much progress with our operation. But unlike you, I am a man of true entertainment. Uninterrupted murder is not up my alley.”

You blinked. Murder? What in the hells was he talking about?

“You are losing your focus, lordling. Do you need a reminder?”

Before you had processed what was happening, Orin grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you flush against her. The smell of rotten meat and blood filled your nostrils, the blade of her dagger pressing into your skin. Her hands were ice-cold.

You gasped for air, paralysed. You willed your legs to kick her, your fingers to scratch her, your head to shatter her chin…but your body did not obey. Fear wrapped its icy claws around you, preventing you from taking action.

One wrong movement…and you would die. Your eyes found Gortash’s, yours pleading, begging. Surely, he would not let her harm you, surely, he would care if you lived after having shared the bed with him so many times…

“Now don’t be ridiculous, Orin. She’s my concubine. The only thing you will accomplish by killing her is making a mess of my office. I can always get a new one at the snap of my fingers.”

Your face fell, heart skipping several beats in a row. Not because of your fear now—but because it broke. Your lips parted. Was that truly how he felt after you’d spread your legs for him, listened to his sorrows, and kept him company? He’d promised to treat you well. Discarding you to the first bloodthirsty killer—whoever this Orin was—would break that promise after all.

“Well…then you won’t mind if I slit her throat? Bathe in her sweet blood and feast on her intestines? Would you still like to fuck her then, lordling?”

For just a second, you believed to catch a glimpse of actual panic glistening in his dark eyes. It was a fleeting moment, quickly replaced by a mask of steel.

“Orin, no, stop it!”

The woman laughed, the stench of stale blood almost making you gag as she pressed the blade even further against your delicate skin until you could feel a slight burn and something warm and sticky running down your throat.

“Orin!” You had not imagined it. There was panic swinging in his voice too now.

With a start, she removed her dagger from your throat and pushed you. You landed on your hands and knees on the hard stone floor, a pained cry escaping your lips due to the impact.

“With Ketheric Thorm dead, you should be on your guard, lordling. Because right now, your little plan is falling apart. And I am so very eager to spill blood in your chambers.”

“Control yourself, Orin. Ketheric’s death is a temporary setback. Once the Netherstone is back in our possession, we have nothing to fear and everything will go according to plan.”

You felt pathetic, cowering on the cold floor and listening to the conversation. You only understood half of what they were saying. Netherstones? What plan? And who was Ketheric Thorm?

“I will gut you if not, Gortash.” She disappeared in a mist of black and red as if her flesh erupted into a million pieces before evaporating.

Only now did you realise how heavily you were breathing. Gortash bent down, one of his hands resting on your shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

“No! No, I’m not alright!” you exclaimed, biting back a sob.

“You would have let her kill me!”

“I would not.”

“Yes! That’s what you said!” Another sob, one you were unable to hold back. You were trembling. You could feel a small trickle of blood running down your cleavage right between your breasts.

Gortash grabbed a hold of your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Showing her I care for you would have been showing her weakness and that I cannot afford. I apologise you were caught between the lines.”

Care.

“How am I supposed to believe that? Am I not a means to an end? You keep acting like I should be grateful you took me in and gave me a roof over my head in exchange for sex and now I almost…” You did not dare finish the thought. Died.

“You stupid girl. Do you truly think I would keep just any woman around my private quarters where I conduct important city business? Do you think I would share my private bed with just any prostitute?”

“I…I…” You hesitated. He was not wrong.

“I am not the kind of man to pursue, my dear. I learned the hard way you simply have to take what you want in life. I liked you. So I had you brought here.”

“Why didn’t you just say so? Why must everything you do be a power trip?”

“A power trip? Exercising dominance is crucial to survive in this world. I want you here, by my side. Is that not enough? What else do you want me to tell you?”

He helped you up, retrieving a cloth from the cupboard next to a wash bowl. The gentleness with which he wiped at your throat and your chest to clean the blood off of you surprised you so much yet another sob escaped you.

“I…I want you to tell me…you care about me? I’m not just a whore you can easily replace?”

“I don’t want any of the other whores. I wanted you. And I still do. I have no reason to lie to you, my dear. And you care about me too. I can see it in your eyes. You like the things we do together. Am I right?”

You nodded, unable to utter words for a moment.

“I hate myself for it.”

“Oh? And why is that, my dear?”

“You’re not a good person, Gortash. I can see that. I can feel it with every fibre of my being.”

“But…?”

“But…”

He threw the cloth away and cupped your face, planting a tender kiss on your lips.

“I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t…”

He smirked. He understood.

“I will have some servants fetched to run you a hot bath. I have some business to attend to. Then I will join you.”

“Gortash?”

“No.” He lifted a hand, a thoughtful expression decorating his handsome features for a moment. “I want you to call me by my first name when we’re in private. Enver.”

You frowned, lips parting in shock. The archduke of Baldur’s Gate wanted you to…call him by his first name?

“Enver.” You tasted the name on your tongue. It felt strange and yet…oddly familiar.

“That’s better.”

“Who is Orin? And don’t even think about telling me it doesn’t concern me given she just almost killed me.”

Gortash sighed. “She is…the Chosen of Bhaal, the god of murder and a reluctant ally of mine.”

Your eyes widened, shock rippling through you. Bhaal? The god of murder? One of the dead three?

“And who is…was…Ketheric Thorm?”

“The Chosen of Myrkul, a general who ruled over the Shadow Cursed Lands. Another reluctant ally.” Myrkul. He too was one of the dead three. The rumours you had heard about Gortash… Could that possibly mean…

“Go-…Enver…what deity do you worship?”

He smiled at you wickedly. “You have a sharp mind indeed, my dear. You might just be able to best me in a game of lance board in time.”

“Tell me what deity you worship.”

“You already know, do you not? You have asked me before, when we first met. And I am indeed, my dear, the Chosen of Bane. I will lead this city to glory.”

You took a step back, shock spreading in your veins like spiked vines. “What is this plan? What are the Netherstones?”

“That’s enough questions for now. Go and rest. The servants will be with you shortly.” He strode off, yet before he wrapped his hands around the doorknob, he turned his head and said, “Let me say it again: You belong by my side now, my dear. You have my protection. You have nothing to fear from me—or Orin, I will make sure of that. You might not agree with my methods but you cannot fight your own heart. You can trust me.”

With that, he was gone. Another promise. One that the growing butterflies in your stomach hoped he would never break. You belong by my side now, my dear.

You could leave, he had said a month ago. You should leave. Instead, you found yourself heading over to the wooden tub get rid of your now bloody dress.

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