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sarahowritesostucky · 3 months

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📖Make it Stick: Pt. 2 The Princess

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky x ofc x Steve

Word Count: 4331

Tags: dark!fic, mob/mafia au, mob!Bucky, mob!Steve, dubcon/noncon, sexual coercion, half-sibling incest, m/f/m, non-con drug use, mentions of torture (non graphic), double penetration, forced tattooing, forced orgasms, enemies to lovers

Summary: When his babygirl—his sweet pea, little one, puppy ... half-sister—is recaptured after her latest attempt at running away, Bucky makes a power play in front of the entire Bratva to remind her exactly who she belongs to.

Dark and smutty content below the break. Consume responsibly.

Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!

Brighton Beach has always belonged to the Mob.

Decades ago, it’d been the Odessa Ukrainians who reigned supreme, but Bucky’s father was a weak man, and once he’d died and Bucky had taken over leadership of the Rusă-Română Bratva at nineteen, things had changed.

In the ensuing eighteen years, he’s not only seen to it that his faction rises to the top, he’s also been ruthless enough to ensure that their dominance is never challenged, his position as the Dragon of Hydra firmly cemented.

The Dragon’s Den is one of many businesses under his direct control. It’s a popular club in its own right, located on a busy strip of similar nightlife lining the two hundred block of Neptune Ave., and acting as the unofficial epicenter of Hydra operations.

Extra bouncers have been placed outside tonight to weed out the undesirables, but even with the modified guest list due to the night’s more … illicit activities, it’s still as packed as ever. The downstairs is filled with bodies, booze, and music in no time.

At first glance, it really could be any other night, but look a little further, and the incongruencies are readily apparent. Bucky’s had everything set up in the back, a space no more than ten feet by ten. It’s just a corner, not some stage or grandiose point of focus. It’s not like they have the lights all trained on them or anything dramatic like that. Viewing isn’t mandatory by any means. … But what he’s doing is also right there for anyone who wants to look over and see. And he’s under no illusion that every single soul present doesn't know what’s going on—either because they’re watching it, or because they’re making sure to pointedly not watch it. Tongues have been wagging ever since they'd tied up Gleb and dragged Lena out.

He starts with Gleb, putting all his “tools” within view of the poor bastard but not using much more than his fists and his words. He gets a gut punch in, breaks a finger or two. Kid stuff. Bucky’s never been overly enthusiastic about torture, but you don’t hold control over any faction of organized crime if you can’t at least make yourself comfortable with it. Bucky can appreciate it for what it is, and for the nastier stuff he’s got his specialists. Besides, sheer terror and anticipation can be just as crucial to putting on a good show as anything else. Gleb’s been a crying, sniveling mess since three minutes in, so Bucky’s halfway disgusted and halfway satisfied. Mostly, he’s just discouraged that his little one has been letting such a weak man stick his prick in her. Ugh.

He takes his time, stepping away to have a drink or to chat with someone every once in a while. Bucky usually enjoys his Friday nights lounging and socializing amongst his friends and associates, after all, and he’s not about to sacrifice his entire evening to Gleb.

The Den is Bucky’s home away from home. He even has private quarters above—an amenity he’s taken frequent advantage of after many a night spent overindulging. In his youth, when he’d been new to power and Polina had been nothing but an irrelevant child of his father’s second wife, the luxury accommodations had hosted Bucky’s escapades with dozens of the most beautiful women that Brooklyn had to offer.

But that lifestyle changed once Lena came of age eight years later.

Bucky hasn’t touched another woman—hasn’t wanted to touch another woman—in the decade since, his obsessive love for her often resisted but always returned, despite her token protests. It’s an open secret, considered fodder for gossip amongst the wives. Bucky doesn’t see why anybody should be shocked. He’s always wanted things that he knows are off limits. His little one included.

She’s finally back, and Bucky is more thrilled at that than he is about anything else. Of course Gleb’s betrayal can’t go unaddressed, but Bucky’s working him over more out of obligation than any true recreational interest. He’s got him tied to a pipe. The man is panting and breathing open-mouthed at this point, some of his blood on the plastic sheeting from the fist he’d taken to the nose to start off their evening together. He’s sweating through his undershirt like a pig.

Bucky himself has been naked from the waist up ever since Natasha returned to deliver the requested transfer sheet and blithely remarked that he was “seeping” through his shirt. Normally, aftercare would see her slathering him in ointment and taping bandages over the raw skin, but Nat’s pissed at him and she’s not offering, and he’s pissed at her for being pissed at him, so he’s not asking. He just chucks the shirt when it becomes a lost cause to the blood, plasma and sweat. Whatever. It's hot in here, anyways. And he knows Lena is looking her fill whenever he turns back on her to go focus on Gleb, which is even more satisfying.

It’s because of her that he hasn’t done anything too gruesome. As a rule, Bucky usually leaves the worst of his torturing to those who have a better taste for it (the widows). And while he fully intends to make Gleb hurt before he’s given his very own pair of cement shoes, Bucky still doesn’t want to do anything too traumatizing in front of his main audience.

He walks back over to where Steve has her. He’s been holding her still against his chest, Bucky’s own tie looped around her neck and gripped in Steve’s fist behind her back, his other hand wrapped around her waist to keep her still as she plays her part in the demonstration.

Bucky stands mere inches in front of her and sips his drink, letting his eyes rake over her form. “You haven’t been eating enough, sweet pea. We’ll have to fatten you back up.”

Her lip curls. “You’re such a fucking pervert.”

“Takes one to know one.” He leers at her even longer for the snark, letting his free hand trail lightly along the curve of one silk-covered breast. She’s small. Barefoot like this she barely comes up to his chin. But she’s got a fat ass and a bitty waist that’ve always made Bucky want to do bad things to her, even when they were younger. Lena is blonde like her mother had been, with pale skin and other Nordic traits that set her apart from the darker hues and Slavic features that most of Bucky’s family sport.

How could he ever have been expected to keep his hands off of something so tempting?

She’s beautifully disheveled right now: hair fallen loose from however she had it up before Belova tranqued her and Pietro stuffed her on a jet, body barely kept decent in some slip of a dress that Steve’s put her in, tears already making her mascara run in grey-black tracks down her cheeks. Bucky’s always had a kink for watching pretty girls cry. “You should smile,” he tells her, mocking her by sticking his lip out in a pout. “People’ll think you aren’t having fun. This is your party, after all.”

“What are we celebrating?” she says, her effort at sass somewhat hindered by the waver in her voice. She’s not as brave as she wants him to think she is, but the front she insists on putting up makes Bucky’s heart twinge in fondness. His stubborn puppy.

“We’re celebrating your glorious and long-awaited homecoming, of course,” he coos. “All these nice folks? They showed up just to welcome you back.” He leans in to kiss her cheek, lingering there to whisper right against her skin, “And I missed you too, sweet pea. You got no idea how much.” He feels her shiver before she hisses at him, like a cat. He pulls back and gives her an assessing frown. “You’re so uptight,” he scolds. “Never did know how to let go and have a good time. I’ve always had to help you relax, haven’t I?”

Her pale skin colors beautifully. It takes her a moment to recover, but when she does she tries to hit him where it hurts, simpering a snotty little, “Oh, I don’t know. I was having a pretty good time on your yacht.”

Anger sweeps through Bucky, white hot and thrilling. Little Polina Barnes thinks she’s good at pissing him off. She is, but she’s got no idea how much her brattiness turns him on, too. If she did, she might think twice about opening her smart mouth (and Bucky can’t have that, he’d be so bored). Aside from her new penchant for leaving the flipping country, he’s always kind of enjoyed the thrill of hunting her down and dragging her naughty butt home.

But Belize is taking it too far. His yacht is taking it too far. And letting another man touch her is way beyond too fucking far. Bucky needs to reel his Little one in.

He sets the rim of his glass to her lips, tutting when she only glares up at him. “Don’t be that way, Lena. C’mon, have some. I want to see you loosen up a little.” She just presses her lips tighter together, and Bucky feels his cock thicken in his pants as he imagines using it to pry that prissy mouth wide open. He gives her a knowing smile. “No? Hm.” He finishes off the drink himself and sets it aside. He grabs her face and thumbs roughly over her lower lip, smearing the matte red of her lipstick down onto her chin. “Have it your way, Puppy. Steven?” he says, not looking at the man holding her still. “You’ve got our party favors?”

“In my left pocket,” Steve says, not reaching for them himself because he’s holding Lena’s waist and the tie wrapped around her throat. He’s not choking her, but the pressure on her neck has another effect. Bucky knows a few dirty secrets about his Little one that he’s sure she wishes he didn’t, namely that having a firm grip around her neck gets her wet. Bucky smirks and keeps his eyes on hers as he takes the liberty of reaching around her body and slipping his hand into Steve’s pocket. His fingers find the small shapes and close around them.

“Here we go,” he murmurs, pulling his hand back and holding the items up for Lena to see, chuckling when her face goes slack in shock. Her cheeks darken in a fierce blush and she starts tugging against Steve’s hold with renewed effort. It gets her nowhere of course, and Bucky and Steve share a brief amused look from over her shoulder. Bucky steps closer and pins her between them, hands stroking over her shoulders. “You didn’t think I brought you here just to watch Gleb get his, did you sweetheart? Oh, no.” He shakes his head slowly. “Mm mn. You’re gonna get yours, too.” He puts his lips to her ear and looks in Steve’s eyes while he whispers, “How long do you think before you’re cumming in front of all these people?”

Her struggles intensify, and she tries to head butt Steve behind her, but of course she’s too short for it. She huffs when his grip only tightens and she runs out of steam. “Ugh!”

“Don’t fight it,” Steve tells her, and she sneers back at him.

“Still playing the loyal dog, Steven?”

“Eh, I prefer attack dog. But sure.” He winks at Bucky and bares his teeth in a fake snarl. Bucky laughs. He really does love Steve.

“Ugh! Lemme go, you pathetic dumbass!”

“Hey. Don’t you be mean to Steve. He’s only doing his job.” Bucky puts the smallest of the three party favors in his mouth, letting it sit on his tongue and gripping Lena’s jaw hard to force her to open up for him. He shoves his tongue in, delivering the pill against her will and moaning theatrically to make her even more outraged. He holds her mouth shut after, pinching her nose until she finally capitulates and swallows. Only then does he allow her to have air, tutting in mock sympathy as she regains her breath. “What’s the matter, puppy? What’s got you so worked up, hm? I know it’s not whatshisface back there. Is it just being back home?” He cradles her face and murmurs tenderly, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”

Her face crumples and she sobs a little, the sound hardly audible in the room's loudness, but Bucky couldn’t possibly miss it when he’s this tuned in to her. He kisses her again, this time very gently, letting their lips rest together for a moment afterwards; and he can feel the way she has to fight the urge to lean into it, to seek more. She absolutely despises him, but she has an enduring need for him as well, and she’s never been very good at hiding it.

“Tell me you missed me,” he breathes, his own desire winning out over the game for just a moment. “Please. What’s it gonna hurt to admit it?

“I hate you.”

“Mm. I know, Love, I know.” He brushes his lips against hers. “But you missed me all the same. Missed this.” He lets his hand trail down between her legs, working up underneath the silk of her slip. She whimpers and begs tearfully,

“No! Bucky, don’t.”

"Don't?" His fingers trail over the seam of her panties and he hums knowingly. "Your fancy panties are getting wet, Sweetheart. Did you wear these for me, or for your loverboy back there?"

“People will see!” she hisses.

“So? Let them see. You think anyone's going to step forward and stop me? Hm? Think somebody in this room is going to tell their дракон that he can’t touch what’s his? Because it’s what? Indecent?” He chuckles, thoroughly enjoying her humiliation. “Mm mn. You know that’s not happening, Princess.”

“Don’t. Please. Just … not here. Take me upstairs.”

For a second, Bucky actually pulls back to look at her face. But then he sees what it is she’s uncomfortable about, her pained expression flicking over to Gleb’s bound form behind them. Bucky feels jealous rage shoot through him. He’s always been meaner when he’s jealous. “You don’t want him to see?” he grits, then forces himself to soften his tone. “Oh, no no no. You can’t hide it anymore, puppy. Not from him or anyone else. I know what you like,” he reminds, cruel and quiet. “You know just how well I know.”

He’d bugged her devices starting when she was fifteen. He knows every dirty thing she’s ever watched, from the time she first learned how to touch herself. And his Little one knows this because he’s told her. It’d been the most satisfying moment of his life, when he’d told her that he felt the same way and watched the shock and mortification bloom on her face. That was the day he’d finally made her his—though he’d forced her to admit every single one of her filthy little fantasies out loud before he laid her down and took her virginity.

“I know how you like to feel owned,” he whispers in her ear, thrilling at the hitches it elicits in her breathing. “How you like to feel watched while powerful men touch you. What better way to satisfy those urges than by being taken by the Dragon, right in front of all his men?”

“Please don’t. You can’t.”

“What can’t I do?” he purrs, and she cries softly,

“You can’t, please. Because they know …”

“They know what?” he coaxes, wanting her to say it. He peeks up and looks at Steve from over her shoulder. “Know that you’re my sister?” he whispers. Steve’s eyes darken and Bucky's mouth curls. “Well, that shouldn’t bother you either, puppy. You and I both know your affinity for all those naughty step-sibling videos.” She whines miserably and he hushes her. “Aw, don’t be embarrassed. It’s actually a really popular genre. Number … seven, on Pornhub?” He kisses her cheek. “Right up there with M/F/M threesomes.”

Adorably, her breath catches and she stiffens against Steve’s body, now even more aware of his hulking form behind her.

Bucky hums, pleased. “There’s no need to be ashamed.” He peels her panties to the side and slips the tip of one finger along her lips. She’s not exactly soaked, but she’s not completely dry, either. “Of course, actual brother-sister incest isn’t quite as popular, but we know there’s a niche market for everything, don’t we?” Lena makes an outraged little sound that goes straight to his dick. He leans back enough to watch her expression as he holds up the second of the party favors for her to see. It’s white and thin, less than two inches long, and shaped like an itty bitty torpedo. “Something else to help you loosen up,” he tells her gleefully. “Do you want to take a guess where this one goes?”

She makes an adorable ‘meep’ of a sound and clamps her legs closed over his hand. “Don’t.”

He laughs. “Aw, good guess, little sis’, but not quite.”

“Step-sister,” she corrects shakily. “Bucky ...”

He smiles as he tries to read her, confused and tentative at first, but then growing into something devious. “Oh, I see. You’re honestly embarrassed about that? That people know we grew up together, shared the same house? Mmm." He licks his lips. "That’s not all we shared.”

"Stop it."

He watches her, thrilling in a huge surge of lust mixed with something dark and nasty. “Wow,” he astounds, goading her. “Oh boy. Just think what you’d do if they all knew the truth.”

“Bucky please.”

“Steve knows, you know. I told him forever ago.” He watches her eyes go wide and her body stiffen against Steve’s.

“You … you told …”

“Oh, don’t worry, sweet pea. He thinks it’s hot, too.” Lena looks honestly too shocked for words, and Bucky leans down to give her an absolutely filthy kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth and holding her jaw there for it while, between her legs, he drags the suppository through her moist folds. She squeaks, and he pulls back. He lets her see him handing it to Steve. “Will you do the honors, pal?”

“What?” Lena breathes, lost. The sweet, dumb thing.

Steve keeps hold of the tie wrapped around her neck, but he has to let go of her waist to get at her. Bucky’s able to grab her just as she starts to try and fight it. “Ah ah ah, hold still,” he coos, yanking her wrists down at her sides in an iron grip. He steps even closer, squeezing her between his body and Steve's to subdue her wiggling, pressing his thigh forward between her legs. She freezes when her fighting just puts more pressure on her clit, and Bucky hums, pleased. “Good. Be a good girl now, Lena. We don’t want this to hurt.”

She goes straight back to struggling, and Steve shoots him a peeved look from over her shoulder. Bucky growls and sticks his face in her hair, warning lowly, “You know: there’s a syringe of morphine waiting in the wings for your boy back there.” Lena stills again, and he hums, “That’s right. Now, if you want him to actually get it before I let the widows have at him, then you’d better stop fighting and take what’s coming to you.” She sobs at the corner he’s got her backed into, but she doesn’t go back to fighting them. Bucky keeps her in his firm grip so that Steve can get to work behind her. “And you were wrong, puppy: It doesn’t go in your pussy.”

It’s too late for her to react. By the time her eyes widen in realization, Steve’s hand is already at her backside.

Bucky grinds his thigh forward as her pupils expand from the feeling, the bundle of aphrodisiacs summarily pushed up inside her tight little pucker. “You keep that in, now,” he warns. “You should start feeling it in the next few minutes, then I’ll give you your real consequence.”

She sobs quietly. “I hate you.”

“Old hat, baby.” He steps away from her, leaving Steve to keep her in place. The promise of lessening Gleb’s upcoming pain seems to be motivating her to behave. Bucky walks back over to the pole where he's got the sad sack tied up. Just to scare the crap out of him, he spends a moment tracing all the different tools that’ve been laid out for their use.

“Please,” Gleb begs.

“Shshsh,” Bucky coos, stepping close and cradling his face, intimate. “You fucked my baby sister,” he says. “What did you think was going to happen when I got a hold of you, hm?” Gleb trembles in his bindings and Bucky reaches for the pliers—a classic. Gleb’s eyes all but bug out of his head. “Colectăm mereu,” Bucky purrs in Romanian, reminding him who he’s dealing with. “You stole from the Bratva, son. Now you have to pay the price.”

“Please. I-I’ll do anything!”

He punches him in the gut, then grabs him by the hair and hisses in his face, “You already did everything! Took what belonged to me. Not very smart.”

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

He punches him again. "I sure hope that pussy was worth it.” He smiles while Gleb is trying to regain his breath. “Eh, it probably was. I should know.” Gleb squints in disbelief, and Bucky feels another perverse thrill shoot through him. “What?" he laughs. "Don’t look at me like that. I thought you knew. She didn’t tell you she likes to fuck her brother?”

Gleb’s face screws up. “Stepbrother.”

“You know, I’m getting real tired of that misconception,” Bucky drawls, turning back around to get a look at his Little one’s face. Her head is tipped back against Steve’s shoulder, the drugs working into her system by now. Bucky grins. “I told you I’d get you to loosen up, didn’t I? Big brother knows how to make you relax.” He tosses the pliers aside and saunters slowly back over to her. "I just told Gleb about us,” he says. “But I think it’s about time we make a more public announcement, don’t you, sweet pea?”

Her eyes widen. “Bucky, no.”

He grins wolfishly and spins around. He calls out to get everyone’s attention, and in a few seconds everything has quieted, the room eerily devoid of chatter despite the continuing pulse of the club’s music. Bucky goes over to the bar and demands something to toast with, and a flute of champagne is produced with shocking speed. He turns back to the room. “Thank you all for coming out tonight to help me welcome our beloved Polina back home!”

Some people clap, perhaps expecting some long, heartfelt speech. But Bucky cuts to the chase and says, “I’m sure you all know about she and I.” He waits, amused and sipping the champagne. When the crowd shifts nervously, he waves his hand at them and scoffs. “I mean that’s common knowledge, right? Everybody’s tongues were wagging when my father dumped my mother to marry his whore.”

He gestures back to where Steve is holding Lena, supporting her increasingly drugged little body. “Sweet little Polina was only a few years old, back then. And my dad’s infidelity wasn’t her fault." He shrugs. "So I inherited a bratty little sister. I guess the fact that we were still both kids makes the whole thing even juicer, huh? I know you all talk about it: 'The Dragon likes to fuck his own step-sister'. How scandalous.”

He laughs and walks back over to Lena. He caresses her face, leaning in to give her a dirty kiss with plenty of tongue. The crowd murmurs louder. Bucky pulls back and looks out at the room. “The Bratva wives love a good scandal. Don’t you, ladies?” A few of the wives in the crowd look flustered at being called out. Bucky salutes them with his champagne glass. “Well you’re in for a real treat, my dears. Because little Lena back here isn’t just my step-sister. Oh no.”

(Bucky’s always liked putting on a show, so he’s unfazed when making the actual announcement makes his cock harden further in his pants.)

“You see, dear old Dad was fucking around with his pretty shlyukha for a few years before he finally married her, and you know he even knocked her up.” The room goes absolutely silent, and Bucky feels a sick thrill go through him. “That’s right,” he croons, looking back over his shoulder at the stricken expression on his Little one’s face. “This sweet pea isn’t just my step-sibling: she’s my father’s daughter.”

It takes a surprisingly short amount of time before the crowd goes back to chattering, everybody staring wide eyed—some with disgust, others with excitement over this incredible new thing they have to be outraged over. Bucky shouts at the bartender to hand out champagne to anyone who wants it. He toasts the room. “To Polina!” Only a few dozen people raise their glasses and murmur in response, too shocked to know what to do in light of this revelation. Bucky really doesn’t give a crap. This is just a display of his power, just another way to show them—and her—that he can do whatever the fuck he wants and nobody is going to do a thing to stop him. The room slowly returns to the bustle of before, and Bucky returns to stand in front of his girl. “See puppy?” he taunts, lifting the champagne flute to her mouth. “I told you nobody would care.”

It’s a lie. Everybody cares, of course. But his point has been made. He watches as she willingly drinks the champagne. “Good girl,” he praises, setting the empty glass aside. He cups Lena’s face and gives her a tender kiss. “Now, why don’t we give them a show, huh?”

“Bucky,” she whispers, a plea.

But he can see her body relaxing into Steve’s hold despite her mortification, the drugs softening her up just like Bucky’s been waiting for. He pulls the remaining party favor from his pocket and holds it up for her to see. “Don’t worry,” he coos. “Your punishment isn’t going to hurt nearly as bad as Gleb’s.”

He turns the base of the tiny pocket vibrator on and starts it buzzing. “Now, let’s get you really begging, why don’t we?”

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dde719 · 8 months

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BDAY

Pairing: Jungkook x reader, Namjoon x reader

WC: 1.7k

Tags:

Rough Oral sex- male receive

Photo shoot

Threesome F/M/M

Vaginal Fingering

Slight daddy kink

Double penetration two holes

Double creampie

An: This one-shot was made for my dear friend's bday. The inspiration for this fic came from an edit where JK was lying across the couch with a camera in his hand. Shout-out to the owner and Creator of this edit, you are truly talented and amazing💜. This was written to Acquainted by The Weeknd.

**Credit to the owner of the gifs**

Your bday just seemed like every other normal day but you wanted to do something special and get a photoshoot done to feel extra nice for the evening. You spoke with some friends and they told you about an amazing new photographer in town. They highly recommended him to you after many months of thought and preparations. You spoke with him on the phone to get all of the details of the date and what you're looking for. Your friend Olivia squealed, "Girl, you're gonna leave the shoot feeling like a brand new bitch." Rolling your eyes at her, "Girl, it's just pictures, Chill out homie." She starts to blush, "Uh huh, sureee... You'll see very soon." On August 16, after work, typing in his address to the studio and drove to where he was located. Driving down the bumpy roads and passing a few streets with abandoned buildings. You were turning down the music to make sure this was the building he was working out of.

Why would a photographer work in this part of town? You thought to yourself while stepping out of the car and walking towards the building. Staring at the address on your phone 613 Euphoria Ave then at the ugly building in front of you, gulping hard when you knock on the door. A stunning man with the biggest brown eyes, and dark hair framing his face, tattoos, and piercings. Your eyes lit up, "Hello... Are you Jungkook?" He towers over you staring down, "Yeah, you're here for our session... Did you bring extra clothes?" He motions for you to come in and the halls were painted dark with small details etched in the walls, chandeliers that were made of rectangular panels. You're heels clack on the hardwood floor, and you take a deep breath, "Ugh yes... Here." Opening your bag and showing him the clothes, he deeply chuckles, "These aren't going to work." Rolling your eyes, "What?! Why not, these are perfect fo-" "Your friends obviously didn't tell you what kind of..." His words trail off as he heads for the door, "I'll be back, wait for me here."

You plop down on the couch fumbling with your thumbs, awaiting his return. Looking at the bowl on his coffee table that held assorted condoms. You were texting Olivia:

Just as you were about to respond again, he returned with the camera around his neck, wearing the tiniest boxers... Choking on nothing, "Fuck.... Um, I like your tattoos." He smirks, "Time to strip my dear, My next client is coming in two hours." Chuckling loudly, "Strip?! What kinda-" "You're wasting my time," licking his lips, "it's a boudoir shoot... So either get naked or leave my studio." Thankfully you wore cute underwear this evening.

Removing your pants and shirt, just as you're about to remove the shoes, he bellows, "Those stay on," cocking his head to the side looking at your curves, "I'll be right back." He brings you thigh-high stockings still in the package, and wiggles his eyebrows, "Put these on." Smirking up at him, "Yes, sir." Nervously sitting on the couch, your face is getting warm when he says, "I like your tattoo sleeve too... Now lay on your back and touch one hand to your face." Snapping some pictures he says, "Ok, now pout your lips, blow a kiss, wink." He wants you to do more advanced poses so he put down the camera and positioned your body in different ways, his hardening bulge rubs against you.

His lips graze yours and he grabs your hands, guiding them up your body and places them on your breast. He whispers, "Are you good? Feel free to do as you please so I can capture those sexy faces." Grabbing your legs and resting them on the back couch cushion and his dick rubs on your forehead. He smiles down at you, "Ahh, very good... Hold that pose." He goes back to the other couch and tells you to relax and pretend you're being fucked. Your face scrunches, "Um, is this what you do with all of your clients." He giggles while taking more shots, "Most of them," looking at you through the camera, "Open your legs... squeeze your tits together." After snapping a few more pictures he tells you there's not enough passion in your face. He leads you to his room, lays you on the bed, and makes a phone call.

"Hyung... You're still in the studio right, we need your help." You sigh on the bed with your eyes closed and can't believe what is happening. Your head shoots up when you feel the weight shift on the bed and a man speaking, "What do you need me to do Kook?" He looks down at you, "Hello gorgeous... I'm Namjoon, Nice to meet you." Smiling at the beautiful tall man with dimples that is nestled between your thighs. "Just do whatever feels right so I can get the best expressions." Before you can say anything, he roughly pins your legs down, grinding into you. The fabric of your thong was soaked as his hips rolled hard into yours. Instantly moaning while Jungkook takes pictures, Joon smiles watching you writhe from his touch and shove two fingers in your mouth. Your moans are muffled and vibrate around them. He slides your thong to the side, takes out his fingers soaked in your saliva, and shoves them into your tight wet cunt. Screaming, "Oh fuck," when he pumps them in and out of you rapidly. Your muscles squeeze around his long slender fingers while his other hand grips your inner thigh. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, leaving you wanting more, he senses this and his big plump lips lick slowly on your clit while he fingers you. He begins to hum around your sensitive bud the faster his tongue flicks. You squeeze your breasts together, biting your bottom lip, and moaning through gritted teeth.

The camera flashes, looking in Namjoon's direction, his eyes locking with yours when he eats you out. Whimpering before your orgasm erupts all over his tongue, his face. He pauses for a minute and asks, "Do you want me to fuck you?" Staring at the beautiful man on top of you, "Y-yes." He laughs at you, "Call me Daddy." Rolling your eyes, "Ughh, what?!" His large hand slaps your clit, causing you to wince in pain, "You heard me..." He rubs and soothes your aching pussy before landing another slap on it. Gripping the sheets in your hands, "Yes, Daddy..." He lines up to your entrance and pounces fast and hard into you. Your eyebrows furrow when you feel a barbell ring on his thick long shaft. Clenching tightly around him, "Oh shit... Ah-ahhhh, fuck."

He bites his lip, "You take me so well princess," his hips rapidly bounce into yours. Tears roll down your face, and you don't notice Jungkook standing closer, taking more pictures. Jungkook blurts out, "Ahh good, wrap your hands around his neck." Obiediently you listened to his command and used your arm with the tattoos on it to grip tight. You moan louder the harder he thrust into you, he grunts, "You like that." Whimpering, "YES," he pounces harder into you, "Yes WHAT! HMMM." Smiling, "Yes Daddy... Mmmm." Suddenly opening your eyes when your dragged to the edge of the bed with your head laying off of the side. Namjoon nudges between your legs, places them on his shoulder, and pounds hard into you while Jungkook's bare tip rubs your mouth, as permission to enter.

His hips rapidly snap, causing his thick girthy length to fill every space of your mouth. Feeling his member glide past your tonsils, his mouth hangs open when you close tight around him. He grumbles, "Oh fuck," your hands tightly grip his ass while his balls slap against your face. Namjoon quickens the pace and moments later, you gush all over him. Your legs tremble and quake then you pull Jungkook out of your mouth, stroking him hard and rough. He groans your name and then leaves the room to search for lube. He returns to the bed and lays down, squirting a generous amount and rubbing it on. He was glistening, "Bring your ass here." Slowly crawling towards him and getting in reverse cowgirl position. Sitting on his erection bouncing up and down while Namjoon rubs your clit in large circles. Your hips buck wildly and he pushes you down so your back presses against Kookie's large chest. He spreads your legs further apart and aggressively rolls his hips. His lips slightly parted and he whimpered, "Damn girl," while pulling down your bra licking and sucking on your nipples. Your hand runs through his hair then Jungkook's hand grasps your throat from behind. His fingers leave a print the harder he holds you. Feeling dizzy, overstimulated, your body tingles, and out of breath as another pending orgasm sneaks up on you. Namjoon bites on your chest, leaving bright red marks then slaps your face as he releases into you.

He pulls out and takes over the camera, snapping pictures when Jungkook holds your hips steady and thrusts harder from underneath. He grunts, "Yeah, uhhh, yeahhh." Your bodies are thumping together and you feel his warm cum empty inside your tight ass. You grip his calves, catching your breath, smiling while Joon takes more pictures. He smiles, "You did amazing, love." You were panting, "Um thank you guys for an amazing session... I hope to return." Moving your hips forward until Jungkook hard dick slips out of your ass, "When do I get the pictures?" He slaps your ass so hard, it stings, leaving a bright red handprint, "Soon, You're going to look so hot... Come, I'll show you where the bathroom is." You get washed and changed, hugging the men tightly, blushing all the way home. You plopped on the couch in your house, giggling because what was meant to be a normal day, turned out to be one of the best nights of your life.

#bts fanfic #yn x jungkook #yn x namjoon #jeon jungkook #kim namjoon #smut #imagine

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fereldanwench · 1 year

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Gush About Your CP77 OC

I was tagged by @shynrel-vp, @chilljustacat, @thenocturnalblossom, and @lizzy--wizzy--Thank you, bbs! 💙

RULES:

Post 5 facts about your OC.

Open the latest section of #cyberpunk 2077 tag and reblog 5 posts of people you don’t follow, giving them nice tags.

Tag 5 people to spread the game.

Valerie met Jackie in her mid-20s: she was living in Mega 5 in Vista Del Rey with 3 other girls (one of whom Jackie was dating at the time) and working in a hostess club. The club was a hotbed for gang activity, and Jackie saw an opportunity for them to run various hustles and schemes to pocket a few extra eddies, which Valerie agreed to. After a couple of years, and much to Jackie's dismay, she ended their fun and sought employment with Arasaka.

Valerie dyed her hair blue after she felt like her life was falling apart in her early 20s (like you do), and the color itself was chosen arbitrarily. She just thought it was pretty, and it stuck. (Also I headcanon she doesn't dye it anymore and instead uses some kind of nanobiotech to "naturally" alter the pigmentation of the folicle as it grows. No, I don't care if that conflicts with anything in canon or real-life science, lmao.)

She's fluent in Japanese, largely thanks to her mother, Ava Powell, insisting she learn when she was young. Ava was a savvy corpo herself, and she rightly suspected Arasaka would see a comeback in Night City--She thought this would give her daughter an edge in the corporate world.

Valerie's father, Sebastian Powell, was a senior bioengineer in one of Biotechnica's cloning facilities. Although he died in an AV accident in 2058, his research was foundational for future cloning projects in the decades to come--Most importantly to Valerie, his work was actually used by Arasaka to aid in developing her post-Mikoshi cloned body.

She's an only child and mostly estranged from her extended family, especially on her mother's side, but she does have an uncle, Edward (goes by Eddie), on her father's side who lives in Santo Domingo and does shady shit for 6th Street. The last time they spoke was in 2075 when he tried to guilt-trip her into giving him money.

I'm gonna queue my 5 posts from the main CP77 tag, so those will be spread out a bit, and I'll tag (with no pressure, of course) @ugh-my-back, @netripper, @glitchinginthegarden, @wanderingaldecaldo, and @maimaiapologist 💙

#oc: valerie v powell #g: cyberpunk 2077 #oc snippets #tumblr: dash games

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sicparvismorrigan · 2 years

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When Your Line Is Crossed - Chapter 6

Your new neighbour is pretty fit, and the walls are pretty thin…

Sam Drake/Uncharted/Post-U4

Viewpoint: 2nd person female reader

Warnings: very nsfw (this chapter not thaaat naughty)

Wordcount: ~10.5k (6 Chapters) [incomplete]

Tagging: @bluewingedangel @killergoddessmm @marshmallow--3 @mrob-dream if you want added or removed let me know!

Heavily inspired by the song I Get Off by Halestorm

Read on Ao3

Chapter 5 | Chapter 7

*BANG BANG BANG*

Rhythmic thumping pulls you abruptly from your dreams. You grumble and try to drag the pillow over your head to block it out. You wouldn’t be surprised if it was Sam next door, going at it yet again.

A wave of embarrassment drowns you as you remember exactly what happened last night. The noises you made. The noises you both made. You moaned his name. When he was with someone else. That’s a line you just don’t cross.

Reaching for your phone, you notice with some relief you’ve slept in later than usual. You wouldn’t dare go out on the balcony this morning, should you bump into You-Know-Who. Maybe you can browse for a new apartment later, give notice, pack your things, leave the country, who knows?

*BANG BANG BANG*

The second time it happens you realise the noise isn’t a headboard slamming into the drywall next to you, instead it’s coming from the outside door of your apartment.

Must be the landlord. He has a habit of turning up whenever he feels like without any warning. Gas check this. Water check that. You secretly think it’s weird, a little creepy even, but you don’t want to give him any reason to bump your rent, so you smile sweetly and put up with it.

You throw on a baggy hoodie to cover yourself, in your sleep-addled state not thinking to check if it definitely is the landlord first before opening up.

“Hi, ye-“

“Morning, neighbour!” Sam greets you cheerily, grinning from ear to ear.

Instantly, you are wide awake.

“Nope!” You try to slam the door in his face, but he’s too quick for you. With barely an inch left before it shuts he blocks the opening with his boot and leans his full weight against it. You struggle briefly before realising the cheap-ass door will probably give out before he does. The man is solid.

“Aw c’mon, try harder, baby!” Sam’s laughing at your efforts. It’s all just a game to him.

I will not cave. I will not cave. Sweet talk will not work this time.

Shit why is he calling me baby now?

“What do you want?” You yell at him.

“Can I have some sugar?”

You don’t believe what you just heard. The nerve of him. Something snaps. You stop pushing back, swinging the door open wide and glaring at him. “Very funny. Is that some kind of a sick joke?”

You are so not in the mood for his sense of humour right now.

Sam turns serious in the blink of an eye when he realises you aren’t taking it well. “No, sweetheart. I genuinely need some sugar. I’m all out.”

“Hmmm...” You’re watching him suspiciously, waiting for his ‘ha, gotcha!’ that never comes.

Hard to Handle by Otis Redding is faintly drifting down the hallway towards the pair of you.

…but I can love you better than him…

“Swear it. Cross my heart.” In a way, his sincerity is worse than his humour.

“Why, because you used it all last night?” That comes out a little sharp, double meaning dripping heavily from your words.

He shouldn’t be calling you sweetheart anyway, you are clearly not his sweetheart.

“No, because this morning I made enough coffee for you too, y’know…it was kinda nice, yesterday, talking, out there, with the sunrise-“ His voice is quiet and low.

Goddammit.

“-I thought, I hoped you’d show, and then you didn’t, so I got worried.”

“You were worried about me? You barely know me.”

“Alright, alright. I guess, concerned, is maybe a better word.” Sam stops to lean against the frame. “And as for barely knowing you, I’d like to change that, if it wasn’t already obvious.”

“Ugh.” You scoff before you can stop yourself. “You know way too much already.”

“Seriously? Are you okay?” He cocks his head and looks hard at you, while you avert your eyes down to an interesting scuff on the ground. “Oh…I get it. Is this about last night? Look, we’re both adults. It’s no big deal.”

Really? That’s it? No big deal. It’s that easy for him?

Sam continues. “If it helps, you sounded adorable.”

Oh jeez.

You make a show of rubbing your sleepy face to cover your embarrassment. “Yeah, that really doesn’t help.”

He shrugs. “Eh, then I got nothin’. Except coffee, so…ya want some?”

“Ummm…” You swither, apparently a few microseconds too long for Sam’s patience.

“Look, honestly, I’m kinda getting mixed signals here. If you’re dead set on avoiding me, why’d you open the door?”

“Oh, uh-“ Your turn to shrug. “I thought you might be my landlord, sometimes he just shows up, and…yeah-“

“Woah, woah, woah.” Sam holds up a hand to stop you. “He just comes in here without calling ya first?”

He looks less than pleased when you nod mutely. Then, like flicking a switch, his expression darkens. He seems really pissed off, and you can see a different side of him. One you would never dare do wrong in a million years. It makes you tighten your grip on the doorknob. It makes you want to run. When he speaks his voice is cold, friendly Sam long gone.

“Next time he pulls that shit, you call me first before you answer him, okay? That ain’t right, you in here by yourself…”

Once you mm-hm your agreement, Dangerous Sam vanishes in a flash and your smirking neighbour is back again. You aren’t quite sure what to make of the behavioural one-eighty, but he’s probably right. Confirming what you’ve always felt but been too nervous to do anything about.

Fuck, him being so protective of you does make your heart flutter a little.

Maybe it is no big deal, your little outburst in bed. Despite everything that’s happened between you already, he is definitely the least troublesome neighbour you’ve ever known.

And the best-looking.

God, he smells amazing.

Sure it was embarrassing, for both of you, but he clearly doesn’t care, maybe you shouldn’t either. Shit happens.

“Anyway, I’ll make coffee…again. If you feel like joining me, I’d be honoured.” He turns to leave.

“Sam?” You call after him.

“Yeah, angel?”

“Don’t you need that sugar first?”

“Shoot, yeah…” For a second his self-assured air slips away and he loses his cool just a fraction. “Uh…Ya got some?”

“Maybe.” It’s your turn to lean casually against the door. No big deal you say, Sam?

He just blinks at you when you show no signs of moving. “Can you…go get it?”

“If you say please.”

“Huh?” Exactly the same tone as last night, when he heard you moaning through the wall, which makes your nerves wobble (after all, what the Hell are you doing?) but your mouth curves into a smile and you keep going.

“Say please.”

“Ah, shit…Please.” The word is clearly an effort. “I’ll pay you back, one way or another.”

“No rush.” You somehow sound breezy despite your racing pulse. Is this still flirting? Or is it foreplay?

“I will, I’m a man of my word.” He leans in close and everything outside of the two of you dissolves away. “I told you. Knock on my door and ask. Anything you need. Anything.”

You remember every detail of the earlier conversation you had when Sam offered to ‘help you out’ with your needs.

“We’ll see. And I told you Sam, if anyone was knocking and asking for stuff, it was going to be you!”

Damn, that little win felt good.

“Jeez-“ He remembers too. Sam turns away out into the hall and runs a hand through his hair before coming back to you. “That’s good, that’s cute. You’re sharp. C’mon, quit messing around. Cough up the sweet stuff.”

“Fine, wait here.”

Sam’s desperate to be in control again, he just can’t leave it alone. “You could invite me in, just give me the whole cup of coffee while you’re at it? I made one for you already. Return the favour.”

“Nice try, but I never got that cup, so it doesn’t count.” You catch him trying to peer around the door to find out what the inside of your apartment looks like. “Hey! Stop being so nosey!”

“Can’t help it.” He mutters. “What’s got into you, why you Miss Feisty this morning?”

“I’m a little mad.” You fess up as you hand him a bowl of sugar, your fingers briefly touching as he takes it. Electricity.

“Mad? At me? For what? For getting laid?” His smirk is just unbearable. “Aw, are you jealous, sweetheart?”

“Hell, no!” Your answer is too quick, over-the-top nonchalant. It’s so obvious you care.

“Oh my God, you are. You are jealous.” Sam shakes his head in wonder, seeing right through you. “Well, shit. How rude of me.”

“Isn’t she bothered you’re over here paying attention to me instead?” You slyly enquire, not sure what you should be hoping for as an answer.

“Nah, she’s long gone.” Sam looks slightly regretful. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing her again.”

You should not be so over-the-moon at his confession. You try not to let your face show it, and catch your grin just in time.

And then you realise why the woman isn’t coming back. She must have heard you too. She saw Sam’s reaction first hand. It was your fault. You ruined it for her. For both of them.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you ain’t. But it’s okay. Guess she didn’t take it the way I did.”

What, as a compliment?

Before you can figure out what to say next, Sam throws you another curveball.

“Listen, how about I make you dinner tonight?”

Your stomach feels like it’s just abandoned ship and your heart isn’t far behind, suddenly blood is rushing in your ears.

“Oh-“

“What, you already got plans?“

“No, it’s just…surprising.” The thought of you and him alone for at least a few hours makes your knees weak. Is it possible he actually cares for you? This isn’t just an elaborate ruse to get you into bed? Sam cooks?!

“Oh, I’m full of surprises.” He drops his voice low and lets his gaze linger on your mouth. “You’ll see. How about it?”

You shouldn’t. He was with someone else just last night. This feels like definite trouble.

But you want to. In spite of everything, you so badly want to.

“Yes. I’ll have dinner with you.” Oh my God. It’s happening.

“There’s a catch, though.”

“Which is?” You only just manage to croak out.

“Dinner at your place. I’m still fixing mine up. Sawdust everywhere. And I do mean ev-er-y-where-“

“That’s fine.” You cut him off before he goes into more detail about what exactly he means by everywhere. But Christ, you’ve got some cleaning to do.“That’s…more than fine.”

“Alright then. We got a deal. See you later, sweetheart.”

As you shut the door, you know deep down you’re still somewhat mad with him. But you’re also biting your lip in anticipation, because fuck you’re really looking forward to it. That damn smooth talking sure did the trick.

You’ve got a date with Sam.

Tonight.

***

Thanks for reading!

Still trucking away on this I’ve not forgotten 😁

#sam drake fic #sam drake x f!reader #sam drake x you #sam drake smut #sam drake fanfiction #uncharted fanfiction #when your line is crossed #uncharted #sam drake #naughty dog #samuel drake #my writing #my fanfiction #no y/n #uncharted fluff #protective sam drake #en es ef dubbleyoo #uncharted female reader

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ashes-writing · 2 years

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the power of love pt six | stranger things ; s.harrington

AUTHORS NOTES; If you think this post looks a wee different than when you last saw it, it does. Trying out a new format, but I digress. This chapter came to me on a whim and honestly, I love how it turned out. I hope nobody minds me adding background characters to these because I'm originally an original character writer and writing y/n or reader format is new to me. Kind of challenging sometimes, but I'm enjoying the ride.

You guys have me mind blown, oh my god. I didn't think anybody would actually read anything I posted on here, let alone interact with it. The fact that you guys have been doing that just. I'm in my feelings, ugh, I love you all so so so fucking much and I hope that just one thing I write makes even just one person's day better because then it will definitely be worth it.

-Ashes

SUMMARY; you, the reader, are the older sister of Dustin Henderson. and until Steve Harrington came along, you were pretty much just doing your own thing. an unlikely friendship forms, but will it lead to more?

--- the chapter where reader and steve do a little grocery shopping, have a little moment or two and reader reveals her car has a name.

PAIRING; Steve Harrington x Henderson!Fem reader.

WARNINGS; mentions of the devils lettuce, awkward conversations, swearing, Steve Harrington is a warning all in himself, angst + mutual pining, eventual feelth -tis spelled this way for a reason babes, and thas it.

TAGLIST;

The names above are the only ones present on my taglist for Stranger Things. If you'd like to be on my taglist for anything, including Stranger Things please go check this out and add yourself

OTHER STUFF;

I do not consent to having my work copied/pasted and reposted here or elsewhere. You don’t own this. I do. Don’t steal my shit.

tags doc, bby || rules/fandoms || requests;open - headcanon asks + nsfw or sfw alphabet letters || got a request?

“Y’know, tutoring usually ends with books and notebooks. Not a grocery trip..” Dustin’s statement has you reaching out to lower the volume on the radio and you reach across the seat to playfully tweak his cap. “Aw, don’t worry.. I won’t forget your stupid pudding cups. Mom needed food anyway and all I’m buying with the rest of my check is art supplies.”

“And weed.” Dustin snorts out, laughing.

“Hey!”

“You don’t have to hide it from me. I know what you’re doing when you’re sitting on the big limb outside your bedroom window late at night. Surprised you haven’t fallen out of the damn tree yet, clumsy as you are.”

“Watch it, little fucker.” you warn, laughing. But your brother’s got that solemn little old man look, like he wants to say something but he’s not sure he should. You reach out and lower the radio again. “Okay, kid. Out with it.”

“I just dunno about him, okay? I mean Mike’s always saying he’s kind of a slut..”

“Again, I remind you.. You are the little brother. But continue?” you nod, waiting for Dustin to finish whatever he’s working up to saying.

“I just want you to be careful, alright?”

“Dustin, oh my god… I swear, if you give me a lecture, kid.. I’m gonna hug you in front of everybody at the arcade when I drop you. Do you really want Gia to see that?”

Dustin shrugs. “I think she’s pissed at me anyway.”

You rub the bridge of your nose. “Okay, what’d you do?”

“It’s more what she did. She uh.. Tried to kiss me, I panicked and bolted out of the AV room.”

You’re snorting because you’re laughing because this is peak Dustin, truly. This is your adorable little brother. You place a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to kiss her back, y’know. If you don’t wanna. If she’s mad, so be it. It’s your body, your choice.”

Dustin seems relieved. He hates people getting mad at him. Always has.

You pull to a stop in front of the arcade. “I’ll be back at six, tops.” you promise. As Dustin goes to get out, you catch hold of his hand and place some badly wadded bills into it and you smile. “Play a few extra rounds. Or go across to the diner and get something to eat with your friends.”

“Thank you.” he smiles and leans in for a hug. Those are getting a little rare since he’s hit middle school. You miss it, you really do. The hug lingers and as he pulls away, he smirks. “No funny business with Steve.”

“We’re just going to study, damn it. Why the hell does everyone insist that he likes me or I like him?”

“Because I know you. I know you like him. Besides, that’s why you went on a whole three page tangent about him in your diary the last time you wrote in it. You don’t devote three pages to someone you don’t care about a little, I mean.. C’mon.”

Dustin rushes inside and you pull away, turning around to go back towards the side of town Steve lives on. The whole drive over, you want to kick yourself because the last thing your little brother said to you before he got out of the car won’t leave you alone.

No amount of trying to shove it out of your head helps. At all.

By the time you’re parking in Steve’s driveway behind Steve’s BMW, you’ve managed to convince yourself that he’s definitely not wrong and you definitely feel something but you’re also better off keeping it buried, keeping it locked inside of you because you know there’s no possible way telling him would end in anything besides disaster.

Steve’s leaning in the doorway and when your car pulls to a stop behind his, he can feel his heart flutter a little. He grins to himself and starts to walk down to your car. You take a deep breath, push everything in your head out of it and roll down your window.

“I’m driving. You drive like a bat out of hell, woman.”

“As if!” you answer, pouting a little.

“C’mon.” Steve insists calmly. You grumble, but you get out. You’re forehead to chest with him and you’re giggling to yourself about it while also wanting to kick yourself because you just giggled. Again.

You pull yourself together and look up at him, head tilted. A hand against his chest and he wonders if you’ve realized yet that whenever you do this, you always seem to place your hand in the exact same spot, without fail, every time. Right over his heart. You bite your lip and his eyes fix on the little movement, soft lips.

He wonders what it would be like to kiss them and it’s only the thousandth time today.

“Steeve, c’mon. Grocery store closes in like.. An hour.” you tap your foot and clutch at his shirt a little. “And you’re getting real food. Not the processed shit.”

“Alright, alright. Y’know, I’m doing just fine with this processed shit.”

“Mhm.. Talk to me in fifteen years when you’re in my emergency room with artery problems. Nope, not havin it, sir.” you laugh softly.

“You’re going into medicine?” Steve asks as he adjusts the seat.

Somehow, this didn’t surprise him.

You shrug. “Toyed with it. I mean my mom is a nurse. And it doesn’t take that long to get a license and take the training. I don’t know about doing it though because she’s always working and like… That just doesn’t fit with what I want?”

Steve studies you intently. “What’s that?”

You’re flustered. One, you don’t know how to answer it without sounding like a sap or coming across as weak and dependent, neither of which you happen to believe you are. Two, you’re pretty sure he’ll laugh his ass off at you.

“It’s dumb, alright? Just.. trust me.” you laugh softly.

“It’s probably not that bad.” Steve mumbles, glancing at you as he stops at the sign on the end of his street to look for oncoming traffic. “C’mon.”

“Steve, I’m telling you. It’s dumb.”

“Just say it.” he insists.

“Ugh, fine. Fuck it. One day, I wanna have a family. And nursing is kind of counterintuitive to that. Because I’m not gonna put myself through what my mother has to do to support Dustin and I. There are days when she works back to back and has to miss something either of us has going and I hear her crying at night..” you go quiet and stare out the window, watching houses pass by. You’re waiting on him to laugh, or react in some way, but he doesn’t, at first.

Steve’s watching you out of the corner of his eyes as he drives into town. You’re doing that little thing again where your hands are in your lap and you’re playing with your fingers and the sleeve of your shirt. You’re practically squirming, he can tell that what you’ve just admitted was hard to say, but he can’t think of anything to say because he just keeps hearing what you’ve said over and over in his head. And then there’s all the stuff Tommy and Carol, even Billy, they keep insisting there’s something there and deep down, he knows there is.

The fact that somehow, you want the same thing as he does, he doesn’t know whether to take that as a sign and hold tight now, do whatever it takes to never let go or keep insisting that they’re all wrong and go on the way he is now.

,, you don’t have to have an answer right away, idiot. You’re probably not enough anyway. Your own parents barely come home but what two? Three? Times a year because they can’t be around you?” the thought is sombering but this time… this time, there’s this little sliver of hope that just won’t die like it usually does after his latest round of pessimism and overthinking.

The grocery store parking lot comes into view and he pulls into an empty spot in the back row. By now, you’re pretty sure that your stupid little confession was just too much because something in the air has shifted, the tension is back again and God, it’s thicker, it’s choking almost.

He kills the engine to your car and clears his throat. “Y’know… you don’t have t’ do one or the other.”

“Yeah.” you mumble quietly. “I told you it was dumb.” you’re faking a grin, shrugging as you reach for the door handle on the passenger side. Steve reaches out to grab your wrist, stopping you because he could look at you and tell you were about to bolt and you’d probably never bring up anything personal around him ever again.

You glance back over your shoulder at him. Your eyes dart down to the way that hand of his is wrapped around your wrist gingerly. “Steve, c’mon.”

“It’s not stupid. If that’s what you want, that’s what you want. I-I.. I mean it, okay? It’s not dumb at all.” Steve says it in this quiet and calm tone, almost as if somehow he’s picking up on your embarrassment and he’s trying to fix it when you’re the one who made things embarrassing to start with. You swallow hard and shrug. “Doesn’t matter anyway, right? We’ve gotta wade through the bullshit that is high school first.” you take a deep breath and plaster on a grin that you hope is convincing enough to get him to change the topic and get into the store.

Steve nods. He’s got that calm feeling again. The one he always seems to feel lately whenever he’s around you. He even laughs quietly in agreement while his mind spins out of control over the simple fact that you didn’t say I’ve just gotta wade through the bullshit that is high school but we’ve.

What’s scary as hell and absolutely perfect is just how easily he can sit back and imagine things, a few years down the road… If he can just get himself to do something. Anything.

And then it hits him. Tommy and Carol are right. Billy’s right. Everyone who has been telling him for a while now that there is something there and sooner or later, he won’t be able to fight it anymore, the way they’re always asking him wouldn’t it be worth the risk to at least try..

He’s gotta do something.

And this makes up his mind.

He has to at least try again.

He lets go of your wrist and gets out of the car, locking it before making his way around to where you’re standing, a cart in front of you. Rather than just walk beside you like he probably would have a few minutes before the conversation, he stands behind you, his arms encasing yours, his chest against your back. “I still say the processed shit isn’t that bad because I’m a nightmare in the kitchen.”

You gulp because his cologne is in your nose, his chest is against your back and he’s propped his chin so that his mouth is right next to your ear because of course, he’s slouching… Again. You manage to pull yourself together enough to glance over your shoulder at him and you smile. “We’ll stick to the easy stuff, I promise.” you reach out for a bag of grapes in produce and you’re popping one into your mouth. Steve snickers to himself and mumbles quietly against your ear, “You’re not supposed t’ eat them now.”

“But that’s the fun part.” you pout a little and laughing softly, you hold one up to him. He opens his mouth and you pop the grape into it. “That’s actually not so bad. Haven’t eaten grapes since we were in elementary school.”

When his parents hired the nanny to look after him. The only amount of time he had packed lunches every single day.

His hands just won’t be still. As you push the cart, he stays behind you, but his hands are on your hip when they’re not on the handle of the cart. You’re barely able to focus because of course you’re not and you’re wondering whether maybe, just once, Valerie maybe doesn’t have a point every single time she tells you lately that you and Steve Harrington are so much more than ‘just friends’.

You round the corner after grabbing a few things and you’re wandering down the pasta and sauces aisle, gathering boxes and bottles. After a few more aisles, you realize that it’s nearing when you promised you’d pick your brother up from the arcade and you palm your face. “Shit..”

“What’s up?” and if that husky voice, the warmth of his breath against your ear don’t have you clenching your legs all over again… You laugh softly. “I gotta make a detour on the way back to your house. Told my brother I’d pick him up from the arcade again.” you admit, sheepish. Steve smiles and nods. “He doesn’t like me a lot, does he?”

“Dustin just has to like.. Get used to you.” your sentence trails off and you’re wondering if you’ve just said it all wrong or if it sounded the way it did in your head upon hearing the words leave your mouth -to him. “People, I mean. He has to get used to new people.”

Steve chuckles quietly. That stupid little sliver of hope he keeps battling down grows just a little more. It’s probably the sole reason he feels brave enough to mumble next, “You were fine before. Do I make you nervous or somethin?”

“Nope.” you’re lying, of course. Well, not really. It’s not so much him as what you’re fast starting to come to terms with as far as the way you feel about him. But he doesn’t need to know that, not now, not ever. Because why would he, King of Hawkins High, settle for you when he could probably have anybody he wanted with zero effort involved.

“Liar.” Steve mutters against your ear as you wheel the cart to an open checkout line and start to pile the food onto the conveyor belt to get rung up as best as you can. You laugh softly, meeting his gaze when he holds out a brick of cheese to you. You take it and stick out your tongue. “I’m not.”

“Mhm. Your entire face is as red as the tomatoes you just put up.” pretty brown eyes dance over you as he stands just a little taller and you tilt your head to stare up at him while gulping down yet another lump in your throat.

“Okay, fine. Maybe a little, but it’s not in a bad way or anything, alright? It’s just… Me. I’m a little awkward if you haven’t noticed, Steve. It’s not so much you as it is me.” you go quiet because you were rambling and now, oh god.. Now you’re blushing so much worse and your shoes have suddenly become the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen in your life. Until he reaches out, tilting your chin so you have to look at him. You laugh, sheepish.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Steve chuckles to himself quietly because this whole thing is making him realize that yes, he really does need to do something.

The sooner the better.

– ( picking Dustin up from the arcade )

“Your sister is here. Steve is driving her car, too.” Mike informs Dustin and Dustin shakes his head and laughs. “Nobody drives her car but her.”

“Mike’s not wrong.” Will turns away from the door of the arcade, “Steve Harrington is driving her car.”

Dustin grumbles to himself. Mike nudges him. “That’s one of the signs, man. I’m telling you, she likes him.”

“So? Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I mean, he seemed okay when he was talking to us outside that afternoon.”

Mike rolls his eyes.

Dustin rolls his eyes. Mike takes forever to warm up to new people and so far, the only exception to that rule is standing to the right of him and her name is Eleven. Lucas speaks up with a laugh. “If he’s always around when she’s doing clumsy stuff, maybe it’s a good thing. He’s not that bad, Mike.”

“Whatever. Anyway, I need to get Eleven home now. I’ll see you guys at school tomorrow, right?” Mike asks as he and Eleven start to walk over to the door, stopping halfway to look back.

“Same place we always meet up.” Lucas answers. Will nods in agreement. Will spots Jonathan and Nancy sitting in Jonathan’s car, waiting to pick him up. “Jonathan is here. Just a heads up, Nance is with him..” Will goes quiet, gazing out the door in mild concern because he really doesn’t want any problems.

He’s relieved when he sees that his brother and Nancy are still in his brother’s car and you and Steve are still in your Trans Am two cars in front of it. “I’ll probably be late in the morning, I think Jonathan is picking up Nancy too.” he tells them before saying a final goodbye and as he’s going out the door, Dustin sees Gia catch up to him.

“The hell is she up to?” Dustin wonders to himself as Lucas nudges him. “Whatever it is, Will’s got some serious deer in the headlight eyes right now. Just don’t worry about it, man. Y’know how Gia is. She’ll be mad and pout for a while but she always starts talking to you again.”

“I can’t believe my first impulse when she was going to kiss me was to squeak and run like an idiot.” Dustin grumbles, shaking his head. “I panicked, you know how she is! One minute we’re talking and I’m showing her that new ham radio and the next, she’s leaning against me and looking up at me funny.”

Lucas snickers and Max shakes her head. “She likes you, idiot.”

“Yeah, alright, okay. I get that but she could be a little more.. Subtle.” but then Dustin stops to think. Subtlety is not Gia’s forte, the same is it isn’t her older sister’s forte.

Will rushes out the door and Lucas glances at Max. “You should go see if Billys’ waitin.”

“I really don’t want to.” Max grumbles, pouting up at him. Lucas laughs. “C’mon, I’ll walk to the door too, okay?”

Max nods.

Dustin grabs his leftover tickets and he’s about to pocket them when he happens to look up on the top shelf and see a leopard.

Gia likes leopard anything.

Loves it.

Has a leopard print jacket that’s real soft. Big leopard print hoops she wears all the time. Dustin clears his throat and gets Keith’s attention. “Hey, that leopard. It’s really 100 points, right?”

Keith takes down the stuffed animal and looks, scoffing. “Try adding another zero, kid.”

A throat clears from behind him. Dustin turns to find Steve standing there, chuckling. “No way in hell that leopard is 1000 points, Keith. Just give it to the kid. C’mon, man. It’s probably for his sister or some girl. Do you really want to stand in the way of him giving a gift?”

“1000 tickets.”

“How about 100 tickets and,” Steve digs around in his pocket. “Fifty bucks?”

Keith grumbles and shoves the leopard at Dustin and Dustin gives Steve Harrington a grateful smile. Steve chuckles and shrugs it off.

“Who were you giving it to?” Steve asks, waiting on an answer. Dustin spots Gia over by the dartboard and nudges Steve to get his attention. “Her. I kind of messed up earlier this week…” Dustin trailed off. Steve gazed at the little brunette in bell bottoms, a fuzzy leopard jacket and a Led Zeppelin shirt as she suck popped a gum bubble and he laughed quietly. “Go on and give it to her. We’ve gotta get going.”

Dustin shuffles over and taps Gia on her shoulder. But she’s got the headphones to her Walkman on, so he slips one off of her ear. “Hey.”

Gia turns to look at him and she is pouting, but then he pulls the leopard from behind his back. “T-there. I gotta go. I’m sorry, okay?”

“It’s okay, Dusty.” she wanted to say it to his face but as habit, he’s bolted before she can even get the words out. She grins and giggles, holding the stuffed leopard against her tight.

“We’ll name you Dusty.”

Outside in the car, you’re flipping through the radio, until you hear a Metallica song playing faintly and you stop on the station. You’ve just started to drum your hand against the dash and bang your head a little when Steve and Dustin appear out of nowhere, both of them snickering at you. You frown at both of them and get out so Dustin can climb into the backseat.

“What were you doing, Dustin?”

“I uh.. Tried to win Gia something, okay?”

You laughed and reached back, fluffing his hair. “Hey. Knock it off.” he grumbles. Then he nods to Steve. “He’s driving diablo. You never let anyone drive Diablo.”

Your mouth opens and closes with your cheeks burning hot. “Untrue! Mom did!”

“Yeah and immediately said she was never going to again. Your car is like the one in that Stephen King book, sis.”

“Yeah? Well he’s behaved just fine for Steve.”

“You named your car?” Steve is trying not to die laughing as he pulls away from the arcade. “And why diablo, huh?”

“Because… I helped rebuild the motor this summer and when it was finished finally, I took it out for a drive and immediately had to fix the transmission too.. I was pissed, it was two am when my uncle and I finished that and I was high as shit. It seemed like a good idea at the time… Tell me your BMW isn’t named, Steve…”

“Well no..” Steve scoffs.

“Bullshit.” Dustin insists.

“Okay, alright. Baby girl.”

“Seriously? Baby girl? And you’re giving me shit about choosing to name my car diablo, Harrington?” you sull up and cross your arms, shaking your head as you laugh it off.

“Diablo.” Steve snorts, shaking his head as he turns at the corner. “Are we taking you home or do you wanna come to my place, kid?”

Dustin mulls it over.

You glance back at him, waiting. “It’s completely fine, Dustin. I mean, Mom is going to be gone most of the night again, kid… I can make something for you to eat.”

“We went across to the diner. If you don’t mind..” Dustin trails off and grins. “Screw it. I’ll come with you guys.”

You smile and seeing you smile makes Steve smile to himself when he glances over to see you.

“So you lose your reading glasses and name vehicles when you’re high. What else do you do?” Steve asks, mostly in teasing. Dustin laughs. “She sits outside in that big tree next to her window. I keep sayin it’s a miracle she hasn’t got the giggles and fallen out yet. Oh and one time, she made macaroni at three in the morning and fucking dragged me out of bed to eat it.”

“It was good though!”

“I mean, it was still three am, gremlin.”

“Ah fuck you both.” you stick your tongue out and pretend to pout about them making fun of you.

“You got my pudding cups, right?” Dustin asks.

“Duh.” you grin. “I promised, did I not?”

“Well yeah, but I thought you’d be preoccupied and forget.”

You flip him off.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x henderson!fem reader #steve harrington x reader imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader imagine

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imperatorrrrr · 6 months

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Talk Hockey To Me

I was tagged by @stereax and @mikathemad :)

Tell me about:

1. The thing that got you hooked on hockey:

Okay, this is a little embarrassing. In the fifth grade around the year 1999, I liked a boy and that boy liked hockey, so in an effort to have shared interests with said boy, I checked out the New Jersey Devils and the rest is basically history. The boy is absolutely long gone, hahaha, but the Devils are here to fucking stay. I got into them right before their two Cup wins and in the era of Scott Stevens, Patrik Elias, John Madden and the love of my child life, Brian Rafalski. I've been a Devils fans for like over twenty years now. I'd say in the past decade I've started to check out other teams (Pens, Canucks, Avs, Stars), but I'm a one team girl at heart.

2. Your first ever fandom friend

So in the Devils Tumblr fandom, I'd say @jonassiegenthighler I think I just finally came off anon in their inbox and it began.

3. The jersey you would most like to own

Okay, so I already have a pretty decent collection of jerseys, but I think I'd like a Nico Pride Jersey, but I know I'll never get one 'cause the bids for the star players are always way more than I budget for myself or if the Devils ever do a specialty South Asian Heritage Jersey I'd take literally any player's (except Smith's). But let's be honest, I need a Sid jersey for fucking sure. I also don't have the Jersey Jersey yet, so I need to get that.

4. YOUR player (you only get ONE so choose wisely)

Eassssssy. It's Nico Hischier.

5. A pairing that deserves more fic

@stereax stole my answer. Its NicoJesp, for sure. I say this all the time. Before Nico put his arms around Jack on center ice, before Siegs was cooking for Nico and they were cohabiting, it was Nico and Jesp. They've been through coaches, through GMs, through players coming and going. It's them.

6. Your favorite on-ice moment

Oh, this one is a hard fucking question.

Ugh, this is actually so fucking hard, what the fuck.

Okay, I'm picking this: after the shutout win against the Avs back in late October last season right near the beginning of the thirteen game heater when Nico looks out into the crowd and scream's LET'S GO.

THEN

link someone else's art/fic/etc that you love & think everyone should check out

I will pick four.

@kmercer's art. like come the fuck on, you've got to be kidding me with this

2. @stereax's Kingdom Poetry Series about each of the 2022-2023 Devils

3. @jonasiegenthaler's art always hits the damn mark, always.

4. My favorite NicoJack fic of all time. Seriously, all time.

kiss me on the mouth (set me free) by coastalhighway

AND

link something you made & are proud of & want people to see

Soz, I don't have anything. I haven't written fic in a decade and I have no artistic skill whatsoever, but one day I'll write fic again and when I do I'll share it with the masses.

tagging: @jonasiegenthaler @dawson-mercer and @jakejuentzel

#Text #how do I even tag this?#I don't think I have a tag for when I've been tagged in something #huh! oh well #uh this is mostly about the #New Jersey Devils #so I'll tag them!

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serenanymph · 10 months

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shuffle tag game

Tagged by the lovely @macabremoons! Name of the game is to shuffle your "on repeat" playlist, share the first 10 songs then tag 10 people. Here we go (adding on my insane ramblings as a bonus)

Little Red Riding Hood - WEDNESDAY CAMPANELLA (okay so I've been trying to learn how to sing this song bcuz apparently I love inflicting pain on myself and bro it is HARD. legit the rapping bits are so fast my tongue keeps on tripping over itself)

Outsider - Eve (bcuz there's always at least one eve song on repeat)

Space Instead - Margot Liotta (an english song!!! a miracle!!! yeah only bcuz @allianaavelinjackson introduced it to me)

Hakushi no haru - Eve, Sou (but I think only Sou sang this one??? could be wrong though. anyway LOVE the vibes of this song. the instrumentals. mmmm)

innocent arrogance - BiSH (ah yes the vibes. impeccable. side note this is the opening for Heavenly Delusion go watch it it is literally SO GOOD)

VIVID VICE - Who-ya Extended (a little surprised at this popping up. huh maybe I've been listening to the Corrupted playlist more than I thought)

Red:birthmark - AiNA THE END (oh yeah this song still gives me chills. the lyrics. the ending. THE LAST LINE)

slash - yama (and right after that is the opening hhhhh)

kamihitoe - Uru (this one popping up is a little odd I don't think I've actually listened to it that much. probably the on repeat playlist isn't very updated)

daremo karemo dokomo nanimo shiranai - ASOBI Doumei (the ending song of Heavenly Delusion!! this song is actually so cute and cheerful and the harmonizing!!! ugh I love it so much)

Gently tagging @allianaavelinjackson, @space-writes, @kaiyo, @hallwriteblr, @arctic-oceans, @squarebracket-trick, @sapphos-scientist, @e-klair, @scroll-of-aves and @lorenfinch

#misc.#tag game #my posts #as you can see I am so totally normal about music #YES THEY'RE ALL STILL JAPANESE SONGS SAVE FOR ONE DON'T JUDGE ME #at least space instead is on there #are u proud of me lia #music

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leighsartworks216 · 1 year

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The Viper (Part 11)

Jaskier x gn!reader

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Twelve

This fic is also on my ao3 if you'd prefer to read it there

Warnings: training with a sharp blade (no injuries), poorly written cockey(?) accent, mention of alcohol (for alchemy; not consumed), Witcher-universe info dump bc it's a hyperfixation and I couldn't resist lol

Word Count: 1585

Masterlist

Tag List Form

“Come at me.”

Your eyes gleamed with a burning fire, excitement and determination dancing behind the slits of your pupils. You stood with your legs slightly apart, knees bent just so. Despite wearing no armor, you stood wide open, arms to either side and hands empty.

Jaskier, who wielded one of your blades, was understandably hesitant to just stab right at you.

“Are you sure?” He dropped his own stance slightly. “I mean, I’m holding a very sharp and dangerous knife and you,” his eyes studied your clothes, lingering for a second on the bit of skin peeking out behind your black undershirt, “you’re… exposed.”

You scoffed. “You’re too afraid of hurting someone. Which, I suppose, is to be expected. But you can’t be.” You gestured for him to strike again. “Imagine I’m a bandit.”

“And what, exactly, would you be stealing?”

“I’m not going to stand around and play make-believe.”

“Oh, come on! I can’t imagine you as a bandit when you’ve got snake eyes and enough muscle to strangle a goat just by looking at it!”

“Ugh, fine.” You glanced over Jaskier for barely a second. Even while training he insisted on wearing one of his colorful doublets. “I’m going to steal your fancy clothes, for one thing. They’re probably worth a few crowns. And then I’m going to knab your lute and break it on a-”

He lunged forward, knife moving toward your heart. And then, he found himself empty-handed, stuck on the business end of your weapon. Even through his surprise, he looked affronted.

“You threatened to break my lute just to- to disarm me?!”

You huffed. “You insisted on playing pretend.” The knife flipped in your hand, handle facing him once more. “Now, do it again, slowly.”

“Why are you showing me how to disarm, anyway?” He pouted as he grabbed the blade back from you. “Shouldn’t you be teaching me how to, ya know, stab?”

“I’d rather you not kill anybody.” You adjusted his stance slightly, making sure he was safe and sturdy; ready to fight. “No offense, but the most action you will likely see as a bard is a bar brawl. And the best way to get out of those alive is-”

“To disarm a bunch of drunks from their tankards?” he teased.

“No.” You returned back to your spot in front of him. “It’s to find a corner so nobody can get you from behind, and avoid any actual fighting.”

His face scrunched in confusion. “Then why…?”

You sighed. “Because if you do get in a bar fight, it’s likely some of them will have weapons of some caliber and knowing how to gain the upper hand by taking their weapons is a good idea.” You got into your stance again, gesturing once more for him to attack you. “Now, again, but slower.”

People stared and whispered to each other as you guided Bayard through the town, searching for a stable. Jaskier seemed mostly unbothered by the… less than welcoming folk. He was rather busy trying to explain the on and off romance he had with the Countess de Stael.

Tretogor wasn’t really much to look at. A muddy, downtrodden town built on agriculture and animal husbandry. Wooden, rickety buildings lined the road. Uneven, split-rail fences blocked in yards that contained drying clothes and barking dogs. From the steps of one house, a voice called out.

“Oi! Witcher!”

You stopped sharpish, Jaskier almost bumping into you. The older, scraggly man faltered under your piercing stare. Still, he stepped forward to meet you in the middle of the road.

“‘Ave a request ta make of ye.” He glanced to the bard.

“What is it?” you urged.

“Ah, we been ‘avin’ some attacks ‘round ‘ere. First it were te cattle. But now some folk’ve gone missin’. Me an’ some ‘unters found a nest up te hill.” He pointed past one of the small buildings that populated the town. “Is in some ol’ ruins, by te graveyard.”

You turned from the hill back to the man. He flinched at the cold yellow. “What’d it look like?”

The man scratched his hand, looking away. “I don’ know, I neva seen it. But,” he perked back up again, pointing down the way, “Oskar might’ve. ‘Is son was taken by te beast.”

“How much?”

“Ah, ‘course.” He pulled out a small purse, but it was light. “I ‘ave 50 now, b-but I can get te boys ta pitch in.”

You nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

The man lit up, hands clasping in prayer as he nearly fell to knees in relief. “Bless ye, Witcher!”

You simply nodded and continued walking, only glancing over your shoulder to make sure Jaskier was following.

His eyes followed the man for a bit further down the road. “What do you think it is?”

You sighed. Your entire body eased slightly, relaxed. Jaskier only saw you so tense and terse with the Reavers back on the mountain. He killed the rest of his thoughts of the mountain before they could fruit into self-loathing and disdain.

“It’s hard to say right now.” You looked toward the graveyard. “If its nest is in the ruins, it could be nocturnal, but that doesn’t narrow it down very far.”

You led Bayard into the stable by the tavern, removing his tack with ease and brushing down his side as you left. But, instead of going inside, you passed Jaskier your saddlebags and some coin.

“Ask for a room. I’ll go find Oskar.”

He nodded, fumbling with the bags to drape them over his shoulder as he’d seen you and Geralt do before. It didn’t look nearly as natural or cool, but it made you grin ever so slightly, so it was worth it.

“What is a cockatrice, exactly?”

You rummaged through your saddlebags, pulling out ingredients - plant seeds and flowers, a container with a fatty white substance, a bottle of alcohol, and another bottle that seemed to glow. As you began mixing different ingredients in bottles and grinding some in your mortar, you answered anything the bard was curious about.

“Well, it’s said to be the result of the egg of a rooster that was incubated by a toad.” Jaskier’s face morphed into a confused grimace. “They’re hard to find, and fighting one is tricky.”

“How come?”

“They usually try bludgeoning you with their wings and tail, and they’re ridiculously fast. So getting close enough to one to attack it without being beat up is,” you sighed, “interesting.”

His fingers rubbed together subconsciously, itching to write down all the info you were supplying him with. “What are you making?” He lifted the small container of fat and sniffed it, before scowling and immediately setting it back down. You huffed a laugh at his reaction.

“Draconid oil and Golden Oriole.” You hummed, shaking up a potion. “I should probably make some Blizzard, too, if I have the stuff for it.”

“Blizzard… That’s the one that makes everything feel slow, right?”

“You’re catching on.” He allowed himself a proud little smile.

“What do the others do?”

You dropped the finished bottle onto the bed. Jaskier picked it up and began turning it over and over to watch the ingredients inside float around. “What you’re holding now is the oil. Witchers apply specialized oils to their weapons to help take down monsters faster.” You scoffed, “Though I knew a fair few who absolutely refused to use them. They said it made the fights too easy, the idiots.

“Golden Oriole,” you poured some alcohol carefully into your tiny potion bottle, “is a sort of buffer. Cockatrices are poisonous, and using this will help so I’m not as easily affected by it.”

His eyes glanced from the potion in his hands to the bottles lined up at your hip. He nodded toward them. “How many can you take at a time?”

You hummed, thinking, as you mixed ground up flowers with a splash of the glowing bottle’s contents. “That’s a bit complicated.” Your eyes met his as you shook up all the ingredients. “Witcher potions are toxic to humans, but we’re not immune to that toxicity. If it builds up to a point we can’t stand it, the effects can be… unpleasant.”

His eyes looked over all the potions again. “How many will you be taking?”

Conjuring a small Igni flame in your hand, you began heating up the Golden Oriole so the contents would mix better. “Not enough to worry about, I assure you.”

He wasn’t very comforted by the dismissive answer, but he let his shoulders relax and didn’t press further. You would know best, anyway. You were a Witcher, after all. He was just a bard that tagged along.

You slipped the oil and Golden Oriole into the holder at your hip. You quickly checked your blades, running a thumb just along the edge to test they were sharp enough. After a moment’s pause, you took the sheath containing your steel dagger and handed it to Jaskier. “Try not to get into any fights while I’m gone, Dandelion.”

He smiled, a flicker of playful mischief in his eye. “No promises.”

Your lips held a grin as you tucked away everything back into your saddlebags and donned your cloak.

“Be careful.”

You caught his eye again, a hint of mischief sparkling within. “No promises,” you mimicked.

You turned and disappeared through the door into the night. He watched you through the window, following your cloaked figure as you walked off toward the hill.

---

Tag List:

@kmuir1

@writeawaythepain

@sleepyqueerenergy

@lex-caspartine

#fanfic #fanfiction #the witcher #witcher #jaskier #witcher jaskier #the witcher jaskier #jaskier the bard #jaskier x reader #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #gn reader #x gn reader

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