#why are those last two tags funny to me lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nickfowlerrr · 6 months

Text

everybody talks

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, a bit of angst. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. nipple play. if i’m missing something that needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: almost 7.7k

notes: happy halloween 👻 so i had an idea for reclusive neighbor!bucky meeting reader when she stops by his house with a group of kids for trick or treating, and this is very much not that but i think it still works lol. also, i wrote this in a day? i don’t think i’ve ever written more than like 4k in a day before so, yay me!

i wanted to participate in @witchywithwhiskey’s horror movie hoe-a-thon but i decided so last minute and then thought the deadline was the 31st, but i absolutely read the guidelines wrong bc it was actually yesterday and i missed it lol. i’m linking her event still though bc i did use a quote prompt! 🖤

The loud shaking of the wobbly cart you grabbed in your hurry precedes you as you make your way through the ridiculously crowded grocery store. Normally you would have been mortified - probably would have left the cart and ventured off to grab what you needed sans basket - but you don’t have the time to be concerned about the looks you’re getting as you walk fast down the aisles.

When your sister asked you for help organizing a family halloween party, you didn’t realize she meant an actual little community family friendly party for the street she lived on.

You had gotten two frozen pizzas, a bag of candy, a case of soda, and some random bags of chips you were sure your nieces would love, just last night. That would have certainly been enough for you, your nieces, and both your sisters, but unfortunately, that wasn’t where the guest list ended.

The look on her face when you showed up to her house with just those few things would have been funny if she wasn’t already on the brink of a breakdown.

Her husband was out of town for work and she was doing all the halloween prep for Sid herself, thus why she enlisted your help with the party and your younger sister’s help for the trick or treating plans.

Before she could snap and completely lose her cool on you, you were already rushing to the front door, keys still in hand, promising you’d be back within the hour and she had nothing to worry about.

That’s how you found yourself among the crowd of the woefully unprepared this afternoon.

You loaded the cart with six more frozen pizzas, three family servings of the deli’s hot and ready fried chicken, two packs of halloween cupcakes, two more cases of soda, an extra case of water, and three boxes of capri suns before you started filling the cart with the halloween party snacks you found in the holiday section.

You were getting a workout as you pushed the basket, less shaky now thanks to the added weight, heading to the candy section to grab a few bags of whatever they had left.

You were distracted by the end cap display as you turned down the aisle and didn’t see the man standing right in front of you, accidentally running into him. Though, running into him sounds like an exaggeration. With how heavy your basket was, and how sturdy the man before you was, it was more like a bump - a love tap. He didn’t even really react to it aside from looking over briefly to you and your basket.

Even still, you apologized profusely, rambling an apology about not looking where you were going before you finally got an actual look at your victim.

Your words stopped almost abruptly when your eyes met with crystal blues. His stare was icy, but not cold, moreso piercing.

He blinked and broke your trance, offering you a shy smile before he looked away.

“It’s okay, you’re fine,” he said, eyes fixed back on the shelves of candy.

He was dressed in dark denim jeans and a black crewneck sweatshirt, his hair was dark and down to just above his broad shoulders, and the stubble that lined his strong jaw suited him well. You didn’t realize you were staring again until he looked back up at you.

You forced yourself to smile then, ignoring the heat you could feel creeping up your neck and rising to your cheeks.

“Sorry,” you offered with a nervous laugh before you forced the cart behind where he stood to go onward.

You could have sworn you saw a blush rising to his cheeks as he smiled to himself, avoiding your gaze, but you weren’t entirely sure.

And you definitely didn’t have the time to ponder on it.

Instead, you began your own search of the shelves to find not only your nieces’ favorites, but your sisters’, too.

They were both working hard to make their kids’ halloween a good one, they deserved a little treat themselves when all the work was done. You, on the other hand, still single and child free, were planning on treating yourself all night. You were there to help, sure, but most of the work wouldn’t be done by you. You were looking forward to seeing them off to trick or treat and plopping down on your sister’s couch to watch movies for the rest of the night - handing out candy, of course, should any kids come by.

Once the party was set up and over, you’d be free for the night and you couldn’t wait.

You were lucky to find most of what you were looking for, but couldn’t seem to find the last kind of chocolates you wanted to get.

As your eyes scoured the shelves, you found yourself looking back over to where the handsome stranger still stood. His brows were furrowed as he held up two boxes of full size candy bars, seeming to be debating between the two.

The look of concentration on his face was endearing, you could almost chuckle at how serious in thought he seemed to be over candy.

You smiled to yourself, returning to your search. As your eyes left the man, traveling instead to the rows of candy in front of him, that was when you saw the bag you needed. In the section right where he was standing, because of course they’d be there.

He huffed in exasperation before you watched him drop both boxes of candy into his cart. He turned to head down the aisle in your direction and his eyes widened slightly when he saw you still standing there.

“Oh, sorry, I’m in your way, aren’t I.”

“No, you’re fine!” You assured him as you left your basket, walking closer to him. “I just needed to grab this,” you said, looking up with the bag in hand. He hadn’t moved from where he stood as you approached, so you were inadvertently in his personal space - but he didn’t make any attempt to move from you. In fact, he looked almost frozen.

His bright eyes were on you, one hand on his cart, the other clenched by his side. He seemed to go a bit ridge at your proximity, like he didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but he relaxed after a second after seeing your soft smile, blinking at you as his cheeks burned.

You quickly backed away, hoping to not make him more uncomfortable and to not embarrass yourself further.

You grabbed onto your cart and looked his way once more, meeting his eye again as his sights were already on you.

You smiled shyly, “Sorry, again, for hitting you,” you offered, “happy halloween.”

He didn’t respond verbally, but he did give you a small nod of acknowledgement.

Your smile grew tighter before you turned and made for the check out, sighing as you rolled your eyes at yourself, mentally chastising yourself for being such an awkward inducing mess.

The lines were long and as you waited, you had to field a call from your sister, promising her you were checking out and would be back at her house soon.

You finally got through the line and were on your way out the sliding door when your cart almost crashed into another. You gasped as you pulled at your cart to stop, the heavy weight carrying it forward, its momentum causing it to almost ram right into the cart beside it.

The doors were only big enough for one cart to go through at a time, so you looked up to offer whoever it was you almost crashed into the lead.

It was your turn for your eyes to widen as you once again were met with those piercing blues.

“I am so sorry, I’m not doing this on purpose, I swear,” you laughed nervously, backing up a bit so he’d have room to go through the doors. “Go for it,” you said.

He shook his head, “Please,” he gestured for you to go in front, “ladies first.”

Had you not been in a hurry, you would’ve argued that he should go ahead, but seeing as your phone was lighting up with messages from your erratic sister, you smiled and pushed on forward. “Thank you,” you breathed.

You were trying not to pay attention as he followed behind you, but when you got to your car, halting your basket at your trunk, you couldn’t help but notice as he stopped next to you.

You looked over at him, and he looked over at you. He smiled this time, popping his trunk, “What are the odds?”

You tittered, not knowing how to respond. You couldn’t help your smile though as you turned back to your trunk and started putting the bags in.

He himself didn’t have much in the way of bags, and was finished putting his stuff away and taking his cart back by the time you were halfway done putting your stuff in your car.

You saw as he approached his door from your peripheral, and looked up and over in his direction as he abruptly stopped just before he was about to pull open his door.

For a second, he looked like he was about to turn around but then thought better of it, reaching for the door handle again before pulling away once more.

He squeezed his car keys in his hand before he turned back around, completely this time. You blinked at him, in a bit of a stupor as he came up to you. You waited for him to speak as he opened his mouth before quickly shutting it, taking a breath, then anxiously licking his lips.

“I’m Bucky,” he introduced himself a bit stiffly before his lip quirked up in a nervous half smile. Your brows raised of their own volition before you gave him your name in turn.

He seemed to be relieved by your reply, as if he was worried you would have ignored him, before he took another step closer to your car. “Can I give you a hand?”

“Oh, uhm, sure. That’d be great, thanks.”

“Big plans for the night?” he asked as he slid the packs of soda and the water into the car.

“My sister is hosting a little halloween party for the families on her street before they head out trick or treating tonight, I’m helping her out with setup and food. But after that,” you sighed, putting a few more bags in, “I’m planning on just watching movies between trick or treaters. Nothing crazy. You?” you asked, looking over to him.

“I’m planning pretty much the same. I don’t know how many trick or treaters to expect, I’m new to the neighborhood and… maybe haven’t been the friendliest neighbor,” he cringed to himself as he grabbed the boxes of juice. “But I got the full size candy bars, so…”

“Sprung for the full size, huh? I’m sure those kids’ll love it. You’ll be the talk of the block,” you joked.

His chuckle had you smiling so hard you had to bite your lip to keep from looking like an idiot.

Bucky took the last of the bags from you and set them carefully down before he closed the trunk for you. You were hanging onto the cart, waiting to say bye before you walked it to its home, as he turned, shoving his hands in his pockets before he spoke. He had that anxious look on his face again, his eyes down at the ground while he licked his lips mindlessly before he met your eye.

“I, uhm,” he seemed to register where his hands were then and took them out of his pockets, “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous of me, but, did you maybe, want to exchange numbers?” he asked, bright blue eyes bearing into yours.

Your lips parted unbidden, eyebrows raising in surprise, or more like shock, as your eyes widened.

“You- you want my number?” you asked stupidly. You didn’t give him a chance to answer though before you continued, “Uhm, yeah,” you nodded, “sure.”

The delicate smile on your lips grew as you reached for your phone.

You exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes before you were finally headed back to your sister’s place.

You were smiling like a fool as you drove, a sense of giddy taking over you. This kind of stuff never happened to you. You were still in a bit of disbelief as you pulled into your sister’s driveway, calling her to help you unload but deciding against telling her about your little grocery store meet cute. At least until the party was underway and her stress levels came down.

—

Grumpy.

That’s the word you would use to describe your current state.

This was not how tonight was supposed to go. You should be lounging on a couch watching scary movies with a bowl full of candy right now, not clopping down the street in your wedges - a last minute costume thrown together as your niece held your hand and pulled you along with her while your sisters and baby niece strolled behind.

Sidney had thrown a fit when she learned you wouldn’t be coming along for trick or treating and only calmed down when you finally relented and agreed. But of course, you couldn’t just go out in what you were already wearing, no, that would be too easy. You absolutely needed a costume.

At your sisters’ and niece’s goading, you were forced to put something together.

You were already in all black, so you snagged the leftover cat ear headband your sister had and made your already done eye look a little more exaggerated. You all left soon after, your niece’s jubilance as she skipped out of the house easing your annoyance at the change of plans. As you started down the driveway, you were cursing yourself for not having brought your sneakers, and your sisters for both having smaller feet than you.

You walked up to house after house with your niece, taking turns switching who was going up to the door every two or three houses. In between houses, you finally told your sisters about the guy you met at the store earlier, how attractive he was, how he helped you load your car, and how he asked for your number before you went your separate ways.

It was nice to be able to talk with them about it, it had been a long time since it had been just the three of you together - no obnoxious boyfriends or overly talkative husbands to interrupt your conversations. You had to say, you were starting to feel a bit more grateful for your niece’s insistence on you joining them.

As you talked to your little sister while she held her daughter, you both watched as your niece tugged on her mom’s hand, refusing to go up the pathway of the house you were now at. As you looked around, you realized everyone else seemed to be avoiding the house, too. You weren’t sure why, though. The porch light was on and there was a cute, though solitary, ghost decoration that would greet you as you walked up the path to the house.

“What is up with that?” you asked aloud.

As your older sister walked back over, she answered your question. “She doesn’t wanna go, she says it’s haunted.”

You fixed your niece with a look, “What do you mean haunted? Who told you that?”

“Evan and Fifi. They said the metal man lives here and he kills anyone who tries to come in.”

“The metal man, huh? Well,” you said, making a point of looking all around the front of the house, “it looks to me like whoever lives here is ready to pass out candy to anyone brave enough to knock. The lights are on, and did you see the ghost up front? They’re probably just as excited about Halloween as you are.”

“No.” she responded flatly.

“No?” you scoffed. “Ohhh, okay,” you exaggerated, “I get it, you’re too scared to go. That’s all you had to say, Sid, no shame.”

“I’m not scared,” she argued, her face scrunched in annoyance at your insult.

“Really? If you’re not scared then why won’t you go knock on the door?”

She floundered for a second before she narrowed her gaze at you. You wanted to laugh at the low growl that radiated from her but held it together.

“We’ll all go,” she finally decided, looking all three of you in the eyes to make sure you were all ready to accompany her.

—

It had been two hours since the trick or treaters had started their nights.

Bucky could hear the laughter and screams of playful fright as family after family and group after group of friends passed by his house.

The bowl of king size candy bars sat on his coffee table untouched as It played on his screen.

Every now and again he’d get up and look out the kitchen window, hoping to see a dead street to make himself feel better about the lack of trick or treaters, but only found the streets full of people.

The more time that passed without a single knock or ringing of his bell, the worse he felt.

He could lie and say he didn’t know why he was taking this so hard, he wasn’t one to complain about his solitude, but truthfully, he knew why.

He had heard the neighbor kids talking about him the other week, telling tales of horror about the metal man who lived next door. If seeing his arm was all it took to spur their tales and ignite their fear of him, God, he didn’t even want to know what would come if they found out even a little bit of his past.

And if it wasn’t the kids starting their own urban legend at his expense, it was the adults who would gossip about him at their backyard barbecues. The mysterious man who lived alone and kept to himself was an easy target for lowly neighborhood gossip, and the few people who had pieced together who he was seemed to be tight lipped about it. Anytime they saw him in public, their eyes would bug and they would quickly avert their gaze, like they were scared what would happen if he knew they knew. It’s not like his identity was a secret, but he wasn’t planning on striking up a conversation with them to let them know that. Especially not when they looked at him like that. Like he was some kind of monster.

Even still, he didn’t want to be the social pariah on the block. He hated to think that anyone was scared or weary of him, though he knew most of them were.

He sighed heavily as he checked the time once again.

So much for that ghost helping to dispel his bad reputation. He’d be requesting the money he spent on it from Sam later, it was his idea for him to get halloween decorations in the first place. He should have known it wouldn’t have helped.

As his phone unlocked with his FaceID, he was tempted to send a message to the woman he’d met earlier in the day. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he hadn’t felt so disarmed by someone in a very long time. And the fact that she was gorgeous, and didn’t seem the least bit frightened by him, was a nice feeling, too.

But she was probably watching movies and relaxing by now, he didn’t want to be a disturbance. Tomorrow, though. He’d definitely be messaging her tomorrow.

Another sigh left him as he locked his phone again, tossing it on the coffee table before making his decision.

Bucky paused the movie before he stood, bowl in hand, prepared to take it to the kitchen and shut his porch light off on his way upstairs. It was only gonna get later and he had to accept that no one was going to trick or treat at his house this year.

But just as he was setting the bowl down on the table, he froze.

Was someone actually coming up the porch?

He swore he was just hearing things…but then came a knock.

—

“You can’t just stand there, Sid, you have to knock or ring the bell, pick one.”

“No.”

“Ugh,” you exaggerated with an eye roll, turning to look at your older sister, “you live with this everyday?”

“Everyday,” she replied.

“Sid, if you don’t knock, you don’t get candy,” you told her.

“If I don’t knock, I don’t get murdered.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll do it myself,” you shrugged, adjusting the cat ears on your head.

You raised your arm to knock on the door, but Sid stopped you, pulling it back down.

“I don’t want you to get murdered, either!”

“Sidney,” you laughed, kneeling to get on her level, “I promise you, no one is going to get murdered. This house isn’t haunted and a murderer doesn’t live here.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” your little sister chimed in, earning a glare from you before you couldn’t help your laugh, shaking your head before turning back to your niece.

“I just met Evan and Fifi at the party, and I know for a fact they were just trying to scare all of you guys. I doubt they’ve ever met whoever it is that lives here. Now, do you trust me?”

Her reluctant nod was your answer.

“Okay. Then I’m gonna knock on the door, and we’re gonna get some candy. Cool?”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” you nodded with a smile before standing back up.

Sid inched back to stand in front of her mom, pulling her arm to hide herself behind as you once again went to knock on the door, this time following through.

You knocked and heard footsteps from within, smiling as you waited for the homeowner to open the door.

Once it opened, though, you found yourself completely taken aback.

Your breath caught in your throat as a newly familiar pair of brilliant blue eyes met yours.

Bucky stood at the open door, bowl of full size candy bars in hand. He looked just as surprised to see you there as you were him.

He tilted his head at you, a lopsided grin spreading on his face.

“Trick or treat!” Sidney yelled, seeing the big bars and coming to stand in front of you.

Bucky looked down, smiling as he showed her the bowl, “Happy Halloween,” he said, allowing her to pick which one she wanted.

“I know how this looks, but I swear I’m not stalking you,” you promised.

“I don’t know, it seems like a lotta coincidences for just one day,” he smirked, cooly leaning against his door frame. “Nice costume,” he complimented.

“Ha, thanks,” you smiled, touching the cat ears once again. “Nice ghost,” you nodded toward the lonely decoration, “Really livens up the place,” you teased.

“That was the intention,” he laughed, a little too glumly for your liking. “You guys are actually the first trick or treaters I’ve had all night, so I guess it didn’t really do its job.”

“Sorry, you guys know each other?” your sister asked.

“Yeah, uh,” you turned briefly, “this is Bucky,” you said.

“Bucky from the grocery store, Bucky?” your little sister asked.

You gave her a look you hoped Bucky didn’t see before answering, “Yes. That Bucky.”

Your sisters introduced themselves to him and as he switched the candy bowl from his right hand to his left, extending his palm to shake their hands, you noticed a glimmer coming from his left side.

You moved over a bit to allow them room to shake hands and as you looked closer, you realized that, peculiarly enough, his left hand wasn’t made of flesh.

You scoffed a laugh to yourself at his “metal man” moniker. That made some sense now… In fact, a few things were clicking into place. Bucky, you thought…Bucky Barnes? The Bucky Barnes. You wondered how you hadn’t noticed earlier, not that it mattered, but you were staring, like kind of a lot, at him when you met at the store, and even when he was helping load your groceries. You really must have been distracted by just how gorgeous his face is.

Now that you were really looking at him again, you noticed just how built he was. Strong arms, solid chest, nearly six foot tall if you had to guess.

Your sister’s laugh brought you back to reality as you followed her gaze to Sid who was now taking a bunch of bars from Bucky’s bowl as he held it out for her again.

“I doubt anyone is coming my way again, so please, take what you want,” he offered to all of you.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you smiled as your sisters each took a bar of their own. “We’ll uh, let you get back to your movie,” you said, remembering his plans for tonight.

“The movie, yeah. I think I might have to start it over, actually. I went on my phone for a minute and looked up to see a blood covered bathroom but I have no idea how they got there,” he huffed a laugh at himself.

“Oh, what are you watching?” your little sister asked.

“It,”

“It? No way, that’s so funny. That’s the movie you were gonna watch before we left tonight, isn’t it?” your older sister asked knowingly, a smirk no one but you and your younger sister would ever catch flashing for a microsecond on her lips as she looked at you pointedly.

“Yeah,” you swallowed thickly, “it is,” you said, trying not to let the awkwardness that was eating at you consume you entirely.

“You should stay and watch it,” your little sister suggested, to your complete and utter mortification. Your eyes shot over to her, and you swear, if looks could kill.

“I’m not just going to invite myself-”

“Come on, like he minds,” she turned to look at Bucky then, her hands still on her stroller holding her baby, “you don’t mind, do you?”

You peek over at Bucky, unsure of how you would even react if you were in his position. He met your eye and his lips quirked in a soft smile. “Not at all. If you wanted to, that is,” he added, offering you an out.

You looked at him a moment before looking over to your smugly smiling sisters and your niece as she tore into one of her candy bars, standing safely between the two of them. You inhaled sharply before looking back to a waiting Bucky.

You nodded.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Sounds…fun.”

“Great, well we were heading back anyway. So, see you later?” you sister bid.

“Or not,” your little sister added teasingly before she shot her gaze over to Bucky once more. “But we do have her location, just so you know,” she added seriously, a hint of a warning in her words.

“Ooo-kay,” you said, breaking the forthcoming tension, “I will text you guys when I’m on my way back,” you told them, urging them to get going.

“It was nice to meet you, Bucky. I trust my sister will get home safe,” your sister said directly.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he responded gallantly while your face felt as if it was literally on fire.

What was this, it was like your parents were dropping you off for your first date in high school. But somehow worse.

She nodded, “And thank you for the candy. Sidney,” she called, getting her daughter’s attention, “what do we say?”

“Thank you! Happy Halloween!”

“You’re very welcome,” Bucky smiled. “Happy Halloween.”

—

It wasn’t long before you found yourself sitting on Bucky’s couch, a glass of water you had desperately needed sitting before you on the coffee table and Bucky sitting to the left of you, but keeping a respectable distance.

“I’m really sorry about my sisters, by the way. They can be a lot,” you huffed a laugh.

“Don’t be,” he brushed off, “It’s nice to see, honestly.”

You looked over at him, he seemed a bit forlorn before he came back to himself.

“You know, my niece was almost too scared to come to your door. She said this house is haunted, that ‘the metal man’ lives here and kills anyone who tries to enter.”

“Ah, I see word travels fast when it comes to children.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of like their own urban legend.”

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully as you laughed, lifting a leg up to cross under your thigh as you turned to face him on the couch.

“What?” you asked, “Don’t you want to be an urban legend?”

“Not really,” he laughed with a shake of his head, turning to face you better as well. “Especially not when it leaves me with bowls full of king sized candy bars no one seems to want.”

There’s a pause before he continues,

“Honestly… I don’t like knowing people are scared of me. I mean I’ve known, for a long time, that they are, it’s just.. Different when you can see that fear on their faces, in person.”

You didn’t even realize you were moving as you scooted in closer to him while he spoke.

“I thought the city was bad, but ever since I moved out here, it’s all so much more intimate. The stares are a lot more pointed.” He laughed humorlessly at himself, “I heard a couple kids talking about my arm a few weeks ago and tried to tell myself I didn’t care, but I’ve been wearing nothing but long sleeves every time I go outside now.

“I’m not ashamed of it,” he said quickly to clarify, “I just, I don’t want them to have to be scared of me.”

“They shouldn’t be scared of you just because you have a prosthetic arm,” you argued, knowing they surely knew nothing else of who he was, “and their parents should probably be leading by better examples.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “what can you do?” He swallowed the lump in his throat that was forming at your defense of him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring all this up-”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s on me. I am incredibly skilled at killing conversations before they even begin.”

“I don’t know about that. You don’t know me well yet, so you don’t know how big of a deal this is, but, I like talking to you,” he smiled.

You had to look away from his gaze, breathing a laugh as you did.

The movie was playing on screen, but neither of you were paying any attention to it as you continued talking.

Each time Bucky laughed at your lame jokes, you swore you felt like you were flying. You talked about everything and nothing. You got to know each other better, asking questions about life and preferences and favorites and what-ifs. The conversation flowed so easily, you never even really had to think about what to say next. That definitely wasn’t usual for you, and you liked it. You liked him.

Somewhere along the way, the conversation turned flirty, and again, it was completely effortless.

Your knees were pressing against one another as you sat across from each other, almost side by side on the couch.

You laughed in unison at a cheesy line Bucky tried on you before a jump scare on the screen had you quite literally jumping. Without thought, you leaned into Bucky, and he had no qualms about it as you hid your face in his shoulder.

He laughed lightly, his arm coming around you and gently rubbing your back before you forced yourself to pull away. His warmth was so nice and welcoming, but if you didn’t back up, you would’ve tried to nuzzle right into his side - you couldn’t risk the embarrassment.

As you turned back to sit next to him though, he kept his arm around you and tugged you in a bit closer.

You briefly wondered if he could hear your heartbeat, because you definitely could. You thought it might beat out of your chest at any moment as his warm cologne invaded your senses.

“Sorry, I guess I just assumed you liked scary movies,” he laughed.

“Ya know what’s funny is I actually hate scary movies,” you told him, “the It movies are some of the very few that don’t scare me.”

“Oh, that was you not being scared?” he smirked with a raised brow.

“That was- it just, it caught me off guard,” you defended with a smile, absentmindedly leaning more into his hold.

You had never gotten so close to someone in such a short amount of time, emotionally or physically.

It was foreign, but you enjoyed it. It may have been sudden, but it didn’t feel rushed.

“You get scared easily?” he asked.

“I’m the biggest scaredy cat I know,” you admitted. “I’m not hard to get a jump out of, I get scared of literally everything,” you laughed at yourself.

You turned to look at him when he didn’t say anything and felt your breath catch in your throat for the second time that night. He was so close to you now, and his eyes were piercing as he took you in, lingering on your lips and sending a chill through you.

The energy between you seemed to shift from something light and playful to something more charged, deliberate.

Your eyes drifted to his lips despite yourself, too.

He leaned in just a touch closer to you and your lips were mere inches away as he spoke,

“You’re not scared of me,” he said, though you weren’t sure if it was a question or not. Still, you responded as if it were.

Leaning in, brushing your lips against his, you breathed, “No.”

His hand was on your head then, keeping you close to him as he pressed his lips against yours, it was fervent, yet delicate, as your lips moved against one another.

You moved a hand to hold onto his left shoulder and he tugged your body to move you completely over his lap while he continued to lead the kiss.

His metal hand found its way to your plush waist as he held you, squeezing you lightly and inadvertently causing you to sink down lower into his lap while your upper body melted into him.

His hand slid from your waist to your ass, grabbing you through your leggings, kneading your ample flesh in his large palm.

You moaned into his mouth and that seemed to spur him on because in the blink of an eye you found yourself being flipped onto your back as he pinned you beneath his large body.

When he finally broke the kiss, you were both panting, your hands fisted in his sweatshirt as his wandered your curves.

“Do you have a bed?” you breathed, pulling him back down to be closer to you, wanting desperately to have his lips on yours once more. He nodded.

“Glad you asked,” he returned, voice low and husky.

You yelped as Bucky lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you with ease while you clung to him like your life depended on it. If he dropped you, you weren’t sure you’d be able to recover from the embarrassment. But as he began up the steps and his hold didn’t falter for a single second, you realized maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about.. He held you like you weighed nothing and honestly, it sent a new wave of arousal through you as he reached the door of his bedroom.

He tossed you down on his bed carefully, but stopped you before you could begin tugging your leggings down your thick thighs.

You looked at him, confused and with a touch of worry you were about to be rejected.

“I’m sorry,” he began, “I should’ve said this before I brought you up here,”

That did nothing to ease your worry…

“I really like you. And I think there could be something real here between us, I don’t want to ruin that. So if you were only here for one night,-”

“I really like you, too,” you cut him off, eyes gleaming into his, “And I think you’re right, I don’t wanna ruin it either. I wasn’t planning for this to be a one night stand, but if you want to take things slower, I don’t have a problem with that.”

“No, I’m good with where we were heading, I just wanted to make it clear that I don’t want this to be just tonight.”

You nodded, a little breathless as you smiled up at him.

“Same page, then.”

“Good,” he grinned before pushing you to lie back on his bed as he descended upon you.

His lips were on your neck and as he sucked on your sweet spot, you couldn’t contain the soft moan that passed your lips.

His hands found the waistband of your bottoms and he pulled them down as much as he could manage before you lifted your hips and wiggled a bit to assist him in getting them off of you.

You pulled impatiently at the buckle of his jeans, earning a chuckle from him before he got to work taking them off.

While he got rid of his jeans, you pulled your shirt up and over your head, catching on the cat ears you had forgotten you were wearing. You threw them all to the side, unclasping your bra as Bucky shrugged his sweatshirt off over his head in turn.

He was back on top of you in an instant, pulling your bra off of you and tossing it to land with the rest of your discarded clothes off the side of the bed.

His large hands immediately went to your breasts, admiring the soft, heavy feel of them in his hands while he palmed them, squeezing slightly as he felt you.

You mewled under his attention, eyes closed in delight as his touch only added fuel to the fire burning in your core.

When he leaned down and took a pert nipple into his mouth, kissing and sucking on your tit, your hand found his hair as you gasped at the sensation, holding him to you, enjoying the feeling of his mouth on your breasts.

You could feel the wetness growing between your legs as he continued to have his fun, unconsciously rutting his thick cock against you when you’d moan for him.

As he traveled down your body, his hands following your curves and his lips kissing every inch of you that he could, he paid special attention to your tummy before he traveled even lower.

You were a writhing mess as you felt his warm breath on your folds. When your hips bucked up into his face and you felt his lips brushing your cunt, you whined obscenely at the feeling. Bucky laughed tauntingly, holding your hips back down as he poked his tongue out past his plump lips, lightly licking your folds and your sensitive clit as you gripped his hair and urged him closer, wanting, needing more.

He finally took mercy on you after a long, torturous minute, spreading you open for him before he ate you out like a man starved.

His tongue glided all over your slick cunt, dipping in and out of your tight entrance, before coming back up to flick your clit.

He drew figure eights over the sensitive bud and you swore you were about to come undone from that alone, but when he sunk his thick digits into your dripping pussy, curling them just right, rubbing against that special spot perfectly, you were seeing stars as your thighs threatened to clamp around his head while you shook from your orgasm. Your walls clamped down on his fingers as you came and he moaned at the feeling as he worked you through the high, more than ready to finally get his cock inside you.

“Doll, you look so gorgeous like this,” he admired as he held himself above you, “naked and sweaty beneath me. Like a fucking goddess,” he praised, grabbing his erection and positioning himself at your entrance.

“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked, running his cockhead up and down your dripping slit.

“Yes, Bucky, please,” you moaned pathetically, spreading your legs as wide as you could for him.

“Mm, I love the way you say my name, doll,” he groaned as he pushed just his tip inside your tight cunt, moving in and out of you as you whined for him.

“God, please, Bucky, please fuck me! I want it so bad,” you whimpered. “I wanna feel you fill me up, please.”

The growl that left his throat had your pussy fluttering, squeezing around nothing before he finally gave you what you wanted. With one hard, deep stroke, he was fully seated inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you gasped sharply, your hands gripping onto him wherever you could as he began to set his pace. With every thrust of his hips into you, he was hitting deeper and deeper inside your cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” you cried.

“There you go, sweetheart. Take all ‘a my cock inside this tight pussy, taking me so fuckin’ well,” his hands were tight on your hips as he fucked into you. “This what you wanted, doll?” he panted, his pace never faltering as he fucked you harder, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his balls hitting your cunt with his every thrust filled the room, mingled with your moans and whimpers and his grunts and growls. “Wanted this big dick to stretch you out, huh? Wanted to feel me fill you up with my hot cum til I’m dripping outta you.”

One of his hands left your hip and instead went to grab at your breasts again, his large hand palming your tit as he squeezed and kneaded, flicking his thumb over your nipple and only adding to the pleasure threatening to send you over the edge.

“God, yes! Please, fucking yes, Bucky, please, please, please, please” you begged pathetically, reaching a hand down to find your clit, working your bud in circles as your walls tightened around his thick cock.

Your eyes were about to roll into the back of your head as you moaned senselessly, Bucky’s hand leaving your chest and nudging your own away from your clit. He replaced your hand and circled your clit perfectly as he continued rolling his hips into yours, his pace growing more erratic and the words leaving his beautiful lips growing filthier the closer he got to his own end.

With one perfectly angled thrust, you were crying as your body shook at the intensity of your orgasm. Wave after wave of nerve tingling pleasure lighting you up as you rode out the high. Your toes curled, legs wrapped around him as much as they could be while he grabbed at your body, falling down closer to you as he moaned, holding your body tighter as he pumped his hips, “Fuck,” he growled as he pushed himself as deep inside of you as he could, his eyes squeezing shut, holding himself there as he came, his body shaking some as he attempted to thrust once more.

You moaned at the feeling of him painting your walls, your hands in his hair as he buried his face in your neck, holding him to you. He stayed inside of you for a long minute as you both panted, trying to catch your breath, while he ensured he got all of his load out before he finally pushed himself up off of you, gently sliding out of you.

He flipped over next to you, laying on his back before he pulled you into him. Your hand rested on his chest as you laid in his left arm.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed, your fingers playing in his chest hair mindlessly as you worked to catch your breath.

His hand was running up and down your side soothingly as he moved to try and meet your eye.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’m better than okay, honestly. That was…amazing.”

“Good, I’m glad,” he smiled, “but still, I’m sorry if I got carried away. I tend to run my mouth when I’m, uh,” he fumbled with his words, “ya know, in the moment.”

He looked so bashful, you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his expression.

“You just said all of what you just said, but you had trouble with that?” you tittered, rubbing his chest before turning further into him, laying on your side as he stayed on his back, propping his right hand under his head as he relaxed into the position. “But really, Bucky, you don’t have to apologize. I don’t know if you could tell, but…I really liked it,” you simpered sensually.

Bucky smiled at you as you leaned up to meet his lips in a soft kiss.

“It’s probably way late now, right?” you asked as you pulled away from him. “I should probably head back.”

Bucky sat up after you, “Do you have to?” he asked softly.

You looked back at him, his blue eyes set on you. You nipped at your lower lip before shaking your head lightly. A new, sweeter excitement washing over you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you could stay for the night,” he offered. “I was hoping I could take you for breakfast in the morning?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes as he waited for your response. That giddiness you felt earlier came over you once again as you held his gaze.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes angst

3K notes · View notes

roseykat · 4 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/roseykat/737270057334341632/can-you-make-a-reaction-where-the-reader-is-needy

You know what would be funny about this? That after they're done with the business and come back to her, all horny and ready for action, now she's the one that's busy or not in the mood anymore. Maybe she took care of herself already.

I'd like to see how they react when the positions are reversed and they're forced to wait instead (or deal with it themselves instead)

Ohohoooo Lyra thank you for this opportunity. I had to go all out.

Here is the context to these reactions prior to this post if anyone is wondering lol

TAGS: smut as per, female masturbation, swearing, begging, teasing, mentions of sex toys and restraints, orgasms, nudes/explicit videos.

A/N: I just realised Hyunjin's one is a bit more softer lmao

BANG CHAN

With Chan, he said for you to give him twenty minutes to finish his work, and within that span of time, you’re no longer preoccupied with being so pent up and horny for him. Instead, you’ve grown tired given how late at night it is, resulting in you falling asleep on the couch.

Chan on the other hand managed to work his way through to the prospect that you’re both going to fuck, thinking about it in the back of his mind while he works that it turns him on. He’s never fucked you in his studio - yet. Thought about it however? Multiple times.

He’s always envisioned him fucking you over his desk, having you ride him on his chair, even the couch you lie on is where he'd fuck you too. The both of you would be able to make as much noise as possible with the room being soundproof. Therefore, Chan was hoping there would be a day for it to come only for him to turn around and see you dozing away peacefully.

“Baby,” Chan calls out to you softly, shaking your arm gently.

You open one eye to see that he’s finally finished but wondered briefly if it had actually been twenty minutes or two hours that went by, “done?”

“Yes, just like I promised,” he says.

“Okay,” you stretch and sit up. “Let’s go home.”

Chan stares at you blankly, “but I thought - didn’t you say-“

“I did, twenty minutes ago,” you cut him off. “But, now I’m tired.”

He doesn’t understand, “you don’t want to do it here?”

“Not at the moment, no,” you say to him. “Don’t wanna get caught either.”

You pick up your bag from the side of the couch leaving Chan still remaining in his seat. He looked devastated and surprised at the same time at your response but was nonetheless respectful of your decision. His dream of fucking you in his studio, for the time being was now put on hold.

MINHO

Minho comes back home, almost with a skip in his step knowing that he’s about to get laid. It’s been a while since he fucked you last. But that’s his fault for neglecting that aspect - neglecting you more importantly, above anything else.

As he arrives home, he sets his keys on the hook by the door and takes his shoes off before searching for you throughout the apartment. Minho spots you in the bathroom, bathrobe on, hair bundled up on top of your head with a towel, and a face mask on.

He knows that once you’ve done your skincare, there’s no chance of him fucking you tonight. It means that you’re only prepped and all ready to go to bed, not ready for anything physical.

“I thought you were horny?” Minho asks, visibly confused.

“I was…but now I’m not, and I want to go to bed.”

“W-What about me?” He almost panics.

You chortle, making your way out of the bathroom, past him, and onto the edge of the bed, “what about you?”

“Well I need you too you know.”

“Maybe wait until tomorrow. Plus, I’m spent,” you respond. “All those toys you bought me really did do the trick. I came so many times without you.”

Minho pretends not to be pissed, but he most certainly is, “I’m glad to hear that they have some use then.”

“What do you mean ‘some’ use? I use them quite often thank you very much” you tell him in a rather indignant tone of voice.

“Why use them when you have me?” He retorts, taking offence to that information.

“Toys are more convenient,” you reply just to rub salt into his wound. “I can use them whenever and wherever. Can’t use you when you’re one - never here, and two - don’t make me cum as hard.”

Minho knows you didn’t mean that. You had to be fucking with him. Either way, just hearing you say that makes his blood start to boil.

“I’ll fuck that attitude right out you,” he glares down his nose at you.

You test him even further, “if that’s what you wanna do then you’re just going to have to wait until tomorrow, just like I said.”

CHANGBIN

It hadn't been long since Changbin left for the gym. As much as you wanted him to stay behind and spend some time in the bedroom, you knew you should let him do what he wants. But since that hour and a half that flew by with his personal trainer, you had found yourself busying all around the house.

You had some breakfast, cleaned up in the kitchen, lounge, bedroom, and even tackled the bathroom, all before Changbin came back home. You felt satisfied and accomplished that you were able to do so much in such a timeframe.

Changbin also felt accomplished, but for completely different reasons. He's always guaranteed to feel good after a hard gym session. So much that adrenaline pumps through his veins half an hour after, especially when he’s hitting his PB’s. He doesn’t know what to do with himself other than what he thinks he knows best…

“Whatcha making?” He asks once he's back home, leaning against the counter as he watches you chop up a whole bunch of fruit.

“A lot of fruit salad because I knew you'd be hungry after the gym,” you answer. “Plus I wanted some too.”

“Yum,” Changbin says, dawdling a few steps to stand right behind you. "But I'm not hungry for fruit."

His hands gently hold your hips, pressing you flush against his. He's not always bold like this when it comes to admitting that he's turned on. Changbin will state that he is sometimes, but doesn't always act on it. Usually it's you that needs him. Always jumping on him the minute you feel the slightest bit horny.

"I can make you something else if you want?" You suggest, deciding in the moment that you're going to make this hell for him.

“I want you,” he whispers against the back of your neck.

“Not sure if we have that in the fridge.”

Changbin chuckles, "funny. Whatever happened to you wanting me to stay longer this morning?"

"Not too sure what you're talking about," you say cluelessly.

"I'm one hundred percent sure you wanted me to dick you down before I left for the gym," Changbin guesses very rightly.

"Is that what you thought?”

“That’s exactly what I thought.”

“That’s a shame,” you sigh with regret. “Maybe if you were here earlier, you might’ve gotten what you actually wanted. So for the meantime you’ll just have to settle for a bowl of fruit.”

You finish chopping up the fruit, then place all of the different pieces into a bowl and turn around on the spot to hand it to him. Grabbing your own bowl too, you head over to the table to sit down leaving Changbin in the kitchen, turned on and befuddled.

HYUNJIN

Fifteen minutes was all Hyunjin gave you after wanting some time to finish off his artwork before heading to the bedroom with you. He had spent practically all day fixated on his hobby while you were at work and came home visibly flustered - needing him so badly.

Unfortunately for you, fifteen minutes takes up too much of your night to wait. It was then that you decided to take matters into your own hands and get yourself off instead. All you needed was your vibrator and a homemade sex tape you and Hyunjin filmed on your phone from over a month ago for you to cum in minutes.

That’s all you needed just one orgasm to settle yourself down. To drain all the stress from your body. Although, it was a bit hard to stop after one when you had made it to three. After that, you were just about ready to head to bed.

At that point, Hyunjin finished off the area of the piece he was working on and departed with it for the time being. As he was cleaning up, the sound of running water from the bathroom catches his attention.

"Baby?" Hyunjin knocks on the door.

"Mm? You can come in, I'm just in the bath," you say to him.

He opens the door and walks in to see that you were fully relaxing in a nice hot bubble bath. There was a scented candle lit on the counter, creating a dim setting and a beautiful aroma that filled the room.

"I thought you were waiting for me on the bed," he says, pulling up one of the chair stools from the corner of the bathroom to the side of the tub.

"I was," you say to him. "But I got impatient so I dealt with it myself."

Hyunjin was annoyed to hear that. Not annoyed at you, but himself, "I'm sorry I made you wait. Over a stupid painting of all things-"

"It's fine Hyunnie," you quickly tell him, hoping that he won't feel guilty about it.

"You're not still in the mood are you?" He tries his luck.

"Sorry baby," you respond regretfully. "I'm just so tired."

He thought as much, but Hyunjin isn't mad. He'd never get angry or upset with you for not doing something you don't feel like doing. He is however, happy that you don't feel pressured into fulfilling his needs too.

"That's okay love, I'll cook us some dinner yeah?"

JISUNG

Ever since Jisung saw the state you were in since they finished the show, he couldn’t sit still throughout the interview that took place prior. All he could think about was how many different ways he was going to fuck you when he goes back to the hotel room.

He wants to have you ride him in the bathtub - watching your tits bounce in his face and for him to suck. He wants to fuck you against the wall of the shower, or fuck you against the windows for everyone to see. To fuck you on the desk, on the bed, even the floor.

Thinking about it all, Jisung had fully worked himself up that he swore he was semi-hard during the interview. If you hadn’t of headed back to the hotel, Jisung would’ve found you, taken you into a dressing room, and fucked you raw there.

But no. He had to deal with a painful hard on that he was trying to conceal from everyone on the ride from the venue to the hotel. Once he had made it up to the room in a frantic rush, he closes and locks the door behind him and spots you on your phone, sitting on the bed.

“Please, please, please, please I need you so bad,” he says, nearly gasping for air as he speaks.

Jisung paces over to you and kneels on the floor before the edge of the bed as his head rests between your legs, nuzzling into the inside of your knee. His hands glide up your the sides of your legs, right up the waistband of your pyjama shorts. He was waiting for you to give him the green light to tear them down and eat you out like he’s been deprived of it.

His sudden appearance took you by surprise at first, but after seeing that state he was in, it was like low hanging fruit - an opportunity too good to pass up.

“But you left me Sungie,” you say mournfully. “I had to get off all by myself.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I did say it was only going to take an hour, but it wasn’t my fault because the interview took longer than it should’ve. They kept asking-“

As he babbles away his excuse, almost like he’s about to cry, you can’t help but laugh silently in the back of your mind at how quick Jisung can just flip like a switch. Before he was smug and cocky about leaving you flustered when you needed him. Now he’s on his knees, literally begging for your body.

You use your foot to palm over the hard tent in his pants, forcing him to stifle whimpers, “you’ll be lucky if you even get to cum in your pants Han Jisung."

FELIX

Felix had spent the last half an hour listening to you whine, moan, cry, even scream in the background as he was gaming. Prior to this, he had you lie at the end of his bed, bound pathetically, and tortured with a vibrator that he carefully mounted over your clit. After leaving you like that, his instructions were clear - don’t cum.

As if you were going to listen to him.

Felix had no idea that you came. Multiple times in fact. You managed to pass off your orgasms as frustrated moans without him noticing. Felix should’ve realised after he finished gaming when he turned around and saw the wet mess you involuntarily made on his bed. He didn’t care though, Felix just wanted to fuck you, and was ready for it too.

“Good girl,” he praises, turning the vibrator off and removing it, thin strings of cum still sticking to the toy as it’s being moved.

He could’ve fucked you like this; bound and helpless, but the biggest mistake he made was releasing you from the restraints. Now you were able to move, to stand up from the bed and head over towards the bathroom.

“Thank you,” you say to him before he can even register what you were doing.

“W-Where are you going?” He asks, puzzled.

"Going to have a shower now."

"You're not...you don't want me to fuck you?" Felix responds, struck with so much surprise that his mouth remains ajar.

"I came though so..."

"You came? When I told you not to?" He questions.

"Come on,” you jibe at him. “You didn't actually think that I wasn't going to, after just leaving me like that?"

"Can't I fuck you then?" He urges his suggestion.

"Tonight maybe, if I'm not tired," you shrug. "Looks like you'll have to take care of yourself in the meantime."

Felix doesn't want to do that. He doesn't want to take care of himself. He wants you instead. But that was to be a lesson learnt on his behalf for not fully acknowledging your needs.

SEUNGMIN

It had been hours since you saw Seungmin last. Whilst you had the home to yourself, he was at the company with Jisung, piecing together the last of a song they want to release in the future. You knew how hard he was working on it and even felt a bit guilty after almost interrupting it completely from earlier on.

It’s not always like you to let your needs get the better of you. In saying that, they’re your primal needs. Being horny is not exactly something you can help and having a boyfriend like Seungmin, there is zero guarantee that you'll behave yourself.

He's a fine man and the thought of his body and all the instances when you've had sex were used as a reference to help get yourself off while he was absent. Straight after that, you came right back to your senses, truly reinforcing the meaning of 'post-nut clarity'.

Since you had no idea when Seungmin was returning, you weren't going to wait around for him and decided to get out of the house for a bit after showering up and getting ready. You managed to take yourself to a nice cafe, pop into some stores to look at clothes, purchase a few other items - all before Seungmin realised you weren’t home and called you straight away.

"Yes," you answer.

"Where are you?" he gets straight to the point.

"I went out," you respond. "Why's that?"

"It's just that I'm home and I was hoping that you were too."

"Oh, no I'll be out for a while," you tell him, hearing a disgruntled noise on the other end of the line.

"How long?"

"A couple of hours I guess? Why?" You ask again.

"Because I'm fucking hard, and I need you."

You stop dead in your tracks, mouth slightly parted in shock. Seungmin very rarely admits things like this. The majority of the time, he wants to make it about you rather than him. He delights in the reactions he can bring out of you when you're in the exact same state that he's got himself into now. And for what reason you're not too sure.

When he left the house, he didn't reciprocate any sign of being turned on, at least not as much as you were. Maybe, as he was away, he was thinking of you - he had to have been thinking about you to work himself up like that. Then for him to admit it is something else...

"Really?" You reply. "And what are you going to do about it?"

Seungmin groans, "come home please. I need to fuck you - that's what I'm going to do about it."

"Hmm, I dunno. I am supposed to be meeting up with a friend soon..."

"Reschedule with them or go later,” he suggests, growing steadily impatient. “Please come home, for me.”

“Nah, I dunno,” you sigh. “I don’t want to be that friend.”

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last until then,” Seungmin says to himself even though you can hear him loud and clear. He does sound really desperate.

“Sorry Minnie, looks like you’ll have to figure this one out on your own.”

JEONGIN

The few sources of motivation that Jeongin had to drag him throughout the remainder of dance practice were a couple of explicit photo of yourself. That was to be followed up with a five second video of you pleasuring yourself in front of a mirror, waiting for Jeongin to come home.

He made sure that his phone was on mute and that nobody was close by just in case. Once he was safe, Jeongin played the video. Watching you tease your clit, fingers sliding down to your wet hole but not fully fucking yourself.

Jeongin swallows, exits out of the video, locks his phone, then tries desparately to forget the images he just saw in order to continue with the last ten minutes of dance practice. But as soon as that's over, he's out the door and doesn't look back. On his way home, he decides to flick you a message as a forewarning for what's about to happen when he arrives.

From Jeongin: I asked you to send me another pic, not a video of you playing with yourself. Think I might have to punish you for that.

To his displeasure though, he never received your response. All he gets is an empty apartment, nobody else home except him. So he decides to text you again.

From Jeongin to you: where are you??

To Jeongin from you: out

From Jeongin to you: now you respond to my text

To Jeongin from you: didn’t even see it sorry

From Jeongin to you: okay well, you can come home now.

To Jeongin from you: what for? I’m at the supermarket getting groceries

From Jeongin to you: shit, ring me

You look down at the messages from Jeongin with suspicion. He was acting weird, but that’s probably because you had in fact sent him a series of nudes this morning that he’s clearly going feral over. However, you decide to do as he asks if you and ring him.

“Hey,” you answer.

“Please get me off.”

Your eyes widen, “whatever happened to ‘hello’?”

“Y/N I’m serious,” Jeongin responds pleadingly.

“I’m in a public place full of people Jeongin, now isn’t really a good time,” you tell him flatly. “Plus, you have hands.”

“Hands that aren’t going to do the trick because I need you,” he replies.

“Oh, so you need me?” You tease him.

“Yes, fuck - I need you, please just-“

“Hold on my phones about die, I’ll see you when I get home.”

The line on Jeongin’s phone cuts as he looks down at his screen in horror as if the device is melting through his fingers. His heart plummets into his stomach. There’s no way you just left him like that. You wouldn’t do that to him. You wouldn’t just leave him hard and horny. You’re supposed to be his good girl.

Supposed to be at least.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut #felix smut #hyunjin smut #changbin smut #i.n smut

406 notes · View notes

jeongheart · 7 months

Text

super shy

summary: he's been receiving these letters for the past year but, he doesn't know your name, does he?

w.c: 7.1k.

tags: friends to lovers, fluff, slice of life.

a.n: this is the longest fic i ever written omg, i've been playing new jeans latest comeback for a few days and this is the result lol. as always, english is not my first language so sorry in advance for any mistakes. leave your thoughts if you liked it, means a lot!

It was there again.

Sitting immaculately on top of his messy folders, the envelope was white without any type of decoration, the owner of the cursive handwriting wouldn't even risk placing a sticker since it could give a clue, even minimal, about who was behind it.

The classroom was almost empty, since recess ended a few minutes ago and the students were still lazily getting up from the grass where they were lying, not wanting to lock themselves in a room again for hours while the day was shining beautifully outside the building.

However, Chan looked around him, narrowing his eyes as he scanned his classmates for the smallest trace of uneasiness as he took the envelope in his hands. But he didn't find any, unless the author had a master's degree in poker face no one around him seemed interested in what he was doing.

After the failed scrutiny, he sat down again with no care on the wooden bench, eager to read what that person had to say today. This excited feeling was new for him, the letters had been arriving about a year ago, right at the beginning of the new semester and at first, Chan found it funny. Surely one of his friends (he bet his life on either Seungmin or Minho, those two were always up to something no matter how much they said they weren't) found it fun to piss him off this year, after all, it has been a long time since his last relationship and sometimes he felt the need of affection, so the "joke" made perfect sense in his head.

He didn't read them the first few months, he just crumpled them up and kept them in a hidden place in his backpack, to let whoever was behind them know that he wasn't interested. But they kept coming even after that vile act against someone's real feelings; and that was when Chan began to question if there really was a person genuinely interested in him, interested enough to send him handwritten letters as if they were living in a classic romance novel. The person had a beautiful vocabulary, and it was clear that they paid attention to details that he didn't even noticed about himself.

The notes weren't very long since they didn't exceed ten lines, but each word was full of admiration and affection. They always reminded him to eat and take care of his health, in addition to telling him day by day one of the qualities why his mysterious person had fallen in love with him. Chan blushed every time he read those reasons, it was no secret (to himself, since he didn't like others to know) that he didn't think very highly of himself; from his point of view there was nothing nice or admirable about his existence. But this person believed just the opposite, and they had made their life's mission to let him know that every day.

Today was no exception, the lined sheets were a pastel color (pink? orange?) and had small animal decorations at the bottom and top (he noticed that these came in "groups", the representative animal of these last ten notes was a smiling giraffe). It was incredibly adorable, and Chan found himself laughing softly every time he took out the contents of the envelope.

'Mondays are always hard! Especially this time of year (can't the professors trust in me and my knowledge of things? I don't see the need for them to take a test).

Anyway, Channie, this weekend I found myself thinking a lot about you, every time I start writing my reasons I feel like I'm going to be left speechless but then I remember that it's not difficult at all to love you. So here is another one:

Your resilience, I greatly admire your ability to always get up no matter how many blows life throws at you. The vast majority of us feel discouraged by the slightest inconvenience, but not you. And that is something incredible.

I hope you have a beautiful start to the week, remember to eat your meals and feel the sun.

Fondly,'

And that's how all the letters ended, the author seemed to hesitate every time they traced the last line, he could feel the uncertainty even on the paper. Chan knew that they were shy and always wondered when they were going to stop being to finally sign with their name and be able to meet that person who stole his heart with every word.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

He was reading the note, hunched over his things, almost shielding the contents of the paper from the prying eyes of anyone who passed by him. You knew he was going to do it (he always did) but you couldn't stop your heart from racing like it was the first time it happened. You watched him from the hallway, hiding behind one of your textbooks while a silly smile appeared on your face, nothing made you happier than making him happy with your words, it's true what people say about "butterflies in the stomach" because that was what you were feeling right now.

His eyes crinkled in the most adorable way possible every time he smiled and from your spot in the hallway you could almost hear the sigh he let out after finishing reading the letter. After scanning his surroundings one last time, Chan placed the paper back into the envelope, and carefully placed it inside his notebook.

"You and your Shakespeare complex again" The sudden voice of your best friend so close made you jump in your place and drop the book you had in your hands. It hit the ground with a dull sound due to the thickness of its contents, and when you picked up the book again you turned around to face the figure of the perpetrator. He just laughed at you and your reaction, which earned him a closed-fist blow directly to his shoulder.

"You deserve it" You didn't even bother to return his reproachful gaze since he clearly felt like fighting, and instead, you returned your focus to Chan's classroom and his figure. He was no longer in his seat and you didn't want to look weird by leaning out the window door to look for him. So you sighed heavily and leaned your body against the wall while closing your eyes.

Until you felt Jeongin's presence come to your side "Are you going to tell him sometime?"

You didn't answer him.

Well, actually you did, with a growl that could mean either 'I'll do it today, stop bothering' or 'not even dead'. However, the blonde wasn't satisfied with your interpretation of an animal as a response and he began poking your ribs with his long fingers, drawing high-pitched sounds of protest from your lips.

"Stop it, Innie" You moved his hands away from your figure and stood firmly looking him in the eyes like a mother who is trying to discipline her misbehaving son. He crossed his arms with a satisfied smile crossing his face with foxlike features and, with a movement of his head, he invited you to speak.

"What do you want me to say? 'Hello Chan! It's me, the person who has been sending you letters like a fifteen-year-old for a year now. I've been in love with you since the moment I saw you at my best friend's house. Do you want to be my boyfriend?" You rolled your eyes tiredly and didn't wait for Jeongin to tell you what he thought, and so you started walking towards your classroom, with an exasperated five foot seven boy following closely behind you.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

You still remembered the first time you'd seen him, and how couldn't you. His presence could illuminate even the darkest corner, and his personality attracted anyone around him.

It was the summer, and you'd gone to Jeongin's house to spend an afternoon together. The air conditioning in your apartment had broken two days ago, and you couldn't stand being in your room for another second, which was already beginning to feel like an industrial oven. When you arrived at your best friend's residence, you weren't surprised by the fact that there were more people than just the two of you. Jeongin was taking singing lessons at a nearby academy and had hit it off with some of his classmates; so while you didn't know them as well as he did, you had the chance to hang out with some of them a couple of times and you could say that they were the funniest guys you'd ever come across. Especially Hyunjin, who seemed to be like a glove with your best friend.

Jeongin's house felt cold, as if winter had come only for the Yang family and, although you shivered with every step you took towards the kitchen where voices could be heard, this felt like paradise compared to the hell you lived in your house (and you even thought it was cooler in hell).

Reaching the kitchen, you heard Hyunjin's melodious voice followed by his nasal, boisterous laughter at a comment Jeongin made. You shook your head laughing inwardly as you pushed the wooden door open to enter the space, the boys turning their heads in your direction as they heard the hinges snapping back into place.

Your best friend gave you his characteristic smile as he got up from his seat on one of the stools in front of the kitchen island to give you a small hug "I thought you weren't coming anymore!"

From Jeongin's shoulder you saw how Hyunjin gave you a smile and a wave, you tried to return the gesture as best you could considering that you were trapped in the arms of a boy who flatly stated that he didn't like hugs. It was getting long in your opinion, so you patted Jeongin on the back, letting him know that yes, you loved him very much, but you were still sticky with sweat from the walk in the sun and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable when he was so cool. When Jeongin let go of you, he opened his palm to introduce you to a person you hadn't seen before, "I hope you don't mind, that's Chan over there. He also goes to our academy, and he goes to university with us! Although he is a year ahead"

You smiled at Jeongin as you walked further into the kitchen to greet the new guest and in front of you stood one of the most attractive men you'd ever seen in your entire life. He wasn't very tall (you could tell even if he was sitting) but his broad shoulders gave him an intimidating presence, his hair looked messy in a swirl of brown curls, and although he was dressed from head to toe in black (you were sure his nails were painted that color too) on his face was a dimpled smile that took your breath away.

From one moment to the next you forgot how to articulate words and you felt like a fish opening and closing its mouth trying to find something to say, but your brain didn't seem to want to work.

You felt a small push on your right shoulder that took your body forward, towards the table, and towards Chan.

"How rude you are" Jeongin rolled his eyes, and although deep down you knew he was doing it to tease you, your cheeks turned red. You felt your tongue heavy in your mouth as the seconds passed and you were unable to utter a single word.

"Leave her alone, Innie. It's pretty hot outside, isn't it?" Chan's deep voice brought you out of your trance and forced you to look him in the eyes. He had a sincere smile on his face and was watching you with raised eyebrows, letting you know that he was going to listen to you when you wanted to respond.

Your heart did a complete turn in your chest, you were surprised in the best of ways at how friendly he was, the vast majority of boys with his attractiveness made that their only personality trait but he was attentive and considerate of all the people around him, even with complete strangers who hadn't stopped looking or saying anything to him in three minutes.

"Yes...yes, it's horrible! And the air conditioning in my house is broken and you can't imagine how hot it is! I feel like I'm going to die one of these days" The words came tumbling out of your mouth, since you hadn't had the time to stop and think about what exactly you wanted to say, and your nerves were playing the worst trick of your entire life.

Chan laughed again (even his laugh was pretty) and he nodded his head, not at all scared or surprised with the lexical vomit you just made.

"It must be like torture, really. You must be tired from the walk under the sun, why don't you sit down for a bit? The boys and I were planning to watch a movie" The brunette softly kicked one of the stools that were stored under the table in your direction.

You nodded shyly and took the seat he offered you, right in front of him. You left your phone on the cold marble of the table and looked around the kitchen for your best friend, you'd been surprised by the fact that he hadn't gotten into the conversation for five minutes and to be honest you desperately needed to focus on something other than Chan's penetrating gaze you felt on your face.

"Innie?" You called out to him with a small shout, loud enough for him to hear you even if he'd gone into the garden.

After a few seconds, your friend's blonde head peeked out of the left door that led to the living room, and a mischievous smile appeared on his face. "I'm sorry! Since you two were talking, we decided to go prepare things for the movie."

Jeongin paused and looked at you evilly, a look that you knew very well and that didn't give you a good feeling at all "Chan, why don't you prepare something to eat? I bought some snacks today, come when you have everything ready~" And before you could protest, he disappeared from your sight again while laughing and yelling something at Hyunjin.

You immediately tensed up and cursed Jeongin in your mind, how dare he leave you alone with your newfound crush. If he was getting revenge for the time you tried to play matchmaker and failed then he was being very childish, that'd been years ago!

While the insulting thoughts against your best friend and all his ancestors accumulated in your brain, from the corner of your eye you watched as Chan got up from his seat and went to the counter where the mentioned snacks and bowls of colors were located, apparently the prankster you called your best friend had already prepared the trap before you even arrived.

You didn't want to look weirder than you already felt so with your limbs shaking and making even the slightest of movements difficult; you also got up from your seat and slowly approached where Chan was, you stood next to him (close enough for him to know that you were willing to help but far enough not to invade his personal space).

He looked at you briefly and smiled sideways, and didn't say anything as he gently pushed a bowl towards you. The task wasn't very complicated per se, but it did become extremely difficult when the only thing you could focus on were the large, veiny hands of the boy next to you, you hadn't realized how attractive it was to see a man opening packets of potato chips and arranging them in a small container until now.

"Jeongin said we go to the same university, do you study the same as him?" You were startled by the sudden interruption of silence, you turned to look at Chan after finishing preparing the bowl with the nachos.

"Yes, I mean, no. We share some classes because some subjects are correlative in each one's career but I could never do the same as Innie" You smiled shyly and shook your head.

"I study psychology," You finally said and looked at your companion, who had his eyes open and bright like a puppy's (how could it be possible for a person to be incredibly attractive and adorable at the same time? It would have to be illegal), and you wondered what it was that'd amazed him so much, there were millions of other people studying the same thing as you.

Without meaning to, you raised an eyebrow; studying his reaction. He laughed again (it was something he loved to do, apparently) and turned his entire body towards you, resting his left hip against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's incredible, the human mind is fascinating. I understand why you study that, for my part, I wouldn't read everything you have to read even if someone paid me."

You laughed loudly, infecting Chan as well. He was doing so with his whole body, his shoulders were shaking to the rhythm of his giggles and you could notice that, from time to time, a small squeak would appear in the sound of his laughter.

When the laughter died down, you looked at him again as you put the last bag of snacks in the cupboard in front of you.

"Yes, I mean, it's a lot to read but it's like you say. I'm interested in knowing the reason for behavior, and I would like to help people in the future. Mental health is something important" This last part came out in a whisper, you weren't used to revealing the reason for your career choice, most people told you that you should have chosen something that would make you rich in twenty years.

"That's incredible, I admire you a lot" Chan said in a soft voice, and you hadn't realized how close he'd gotten until you noticed the small touch of his fingers on your arm, the color quickly rose to your cheeks again and panic took over you, making you choke up when you spoke.

"Y-yes, thank you... not many think that way" And you moved your body away from his space; maybe a little abruptly but you were sure that if you continued in that position you were going to do or say something ridiculous, you couldn't trust your ability to reason at the moment.

Chan cleared his throat at your reaction and took two bowls in his hands, starting to walk towards the living room. You hadn't realized how loudly the other two boys were talking, were you so immersed in the situation to forget the outside world? Apparently yes.

"Are you done yet? The boys must be waiting" He stopped right in front of the door, waiting for you to take what you'd prepared.

You nodded softly, and after grabbing your preparations, you followed him into the living room.

You don't really remember what happened after that, you assume you watched the movies that the boys had already chosen before you arrived. You also don't remember if you had even paid attention, probably not, because you were very focused on keeping your breathing as normal as you could since unfortunately Hyunjin and Jeongin decided to each sit in an individual chair and by coincidence the only place left to sit was in the two-seat chair that your best friend's grandmother had given to his mother at her wedding, and conveniently Chan sat there too. So as the movie played on the screen, your heart raced with every accidental brush of your arms or legs against Chan's.

The only thing you remember clearly from that moment is that you couldn't help but look at his profile, trying to memorize every detail and every peculiarity of his expressions.

The rest of the summer felt like a haze, every time you made plans with Jeongin you knew Chan was going to be there. And that did nothing to dispel the feelings that were beginning to become more present with every minute you spent in his presence.

You liked him a little too much.

His kind nature and the way he treated everyone made you dizzy every time, but you were too shy to act on your feelings and unfortunately you weren't the only one who thought Chan was a good catch. Every now and then different girls approached him to ask him out, and although he always rejected them; you couldn't help but feel a little insecure about the situation. And there was also the small problem that he confessed to you one night in Hyunjin's garden: his last relationship had been somewhat toxic, and although it ended years ago, he was deeply hurt and didn't feel ready yet to fall for someone again.

That confession left a sour taste in your mouth, so you decided not to actively act on your feelings, you really didn't want to make Chan uncomfortable or force him into something he didn't want to do, let alone ruin the friendship you were building. But something as strong as love cannot be contained, and one sleepless night you found yourself scribbling in your notebook the things you wanted to say to him, the things you liked about him, and how he made you feel when you looked at him.

You weren't thinking when you left the first envelope on his desk, it was a completely impulsive decision that you regretted the moment you left his classroom. But when you turned around to go back and throw the letter into the trash, he already found it.

At first he didn't read them, you knew because you'd overheard when he mentioned it to Hyunjin during an outing the three of you made, Chan believed that one of his friends was playing a prank on him.

And that was the last straw that broke the camel's back, although you told yourself that you weren't going to write anymore letters for the sake of your friendship and your own feelings you had to let him know (even if anonymously) that he was someone worthy of love and that he wasn't what the people in his past made him believe he was.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

Once you arrived at the classroom (miraculously before the professor, you didn't think you could endure another lecture and there were still three more hours before leaving the university) you sat down in your respective seat by the window. The day was really beautiful, and from your place you could see the large patio where the entire student body went to relax between classes, it was your favorite place in the entire building and at this moment you wanted nothing more than to be leaning against a tree feeling the warm sunlight on your face.

"I'm not saying you have to tell him that but don't you think it's been too long already?" Jeongin didn't seem to want to drop the topic for today, he'd gotten up from his seat taking advantage of the fact that there was still no sign of the teacher and sat at your table, almost knocking all the things that were on top of it to the floor. You rested your head on the bench and waved a hand in the air, brushing it off in an attempt to say 'leave me alone already'.

Your best friend snorted exasperatedly, "You really are a special case, you've been in love with him for a year, for God's sake."

At the boy's aggressive tone of voice, you took your head off the table and looked at him with a frown. He looked back at you like he always did: challenging and forcing you to speak for yourself.

"It's not as easy as you say, Jeongin" You spat angrily.

"For all I know, if he finds out, he could throw my stupid letters in the trash and confessing would not only make me look weird but it would also ruin the friendship we have" You lowered your face, feeling a little sad "And the last thing I would like to do is lose him"

Jeongin’s expression softened as he realized the depth of your anxiety, and he reached out to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I get it, I really do. You don't want to jeopardize what you have but you deserve happiness too, you know? Maybe it's time to take a risk."

“I don’t even think I have a chance” You sighed, feeling defeated.

Jeongin moved closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially, "You may have more possibilities than you think, but sometimes you have to give destiny a little push."

You raised an eyebrow at his choice of words and just as you were about to question him further, the professor made an appearance in the classroom ordering everyone to take their respective seats and apologizing for the delay. Your best friend flashed you a bright smile with his trademark dimples and snuck over to his table, effectively ending the conversation and leaving you wondering what he meant for the rest of the day.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

If Jeongin's plan was for you to not sleep for a week, then he'd achieved it. His words had been spinning through your head like a whirlpool that seemed to have no end. You knew that he'd been friends with the brunette for a longer time than you, but were they close enough that the youngest knew the secrets inside Chan's heart?

Or was he giving you the advice that all friends gave to their other friends desperate to believe in the illusion that the person they like reciprocates their feelings? No, Jeongin wouldn't do that, he was too honest for his own good and besides you'd known each other longer (your mothers said you were born to be friends). So did that mean there really was a chance?

No, of course not, that was ridiculous.

You shook your head in an attempt to get rid of those thoughts as you rang the doorbell at Hyunjin's house. Your group had agreed to meet to study and you needed to have a clear mind, the exams were around the corner and you couldn't afford to keep your brain preoccupied thinking about something that would never happen.

The minutes passed slowly as you waited for the homeowner, and while you were thinking about ringing the doorbell again fearing that the boys inside hadn't heard you, the door suddenly opened, and nothing could have prepared you to see the person who has been living rent free in your mind, you knew he would be there, but you didn't expect to face him so quickly.

"Hey, you arrived just in time, Hyunjin's mom just brought us some drinks" Chan was his usual self, with his beautiful smile plastered on his face and his relaxed attitude.

You blinked once, twice, three times before you managed a small forced smile and responded, "Oh, great, thanks," and you stood there in silence, unable to look him in the eyes.

Chan tilted his head in silent question at your attitude, "Is everything okay?"

His concern for your well-being was evident in his voice and he struck a chord in your heart. You looked at him briefly, meeting his gaze for a fleeting moment and nodded, still struggling to find your voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You finally responded, trying to sound casual despite the jumble of emotions inside you.

Chan's friendly demeanor never wavered as he led you into the house, you followed him with a notable distance between your bodies and so when you arrived at the living room where the boys were already seated with open textbooks and a monstrous amount of things to eat you almost ran to sit next to Jeongin, an attitude that didn't go unnoticed by the blonde, who looked at you with his eyebrows raised in a telepathic question.

Meanwhile, Chan didn't take his eyes off you as he sat next to Hyunjin on the couch in front of where you and your best friend were.

The afternoon went by slowly, too slowly for your liking, you'd gone with all the desire to study and get your mind out of the anxiety that was consuming you, but that attempt had been futile.

Although your gaze remained glued to your notes and your blue highlighter (which hadn't highlighted anything in the last hour, you'd read the same paragraph five times without getting a clue of what it was trying to say) you felt how two eyes were burning holes in your figure. The room was suffocatingly silent, and you were sure that your irregular breathing was evident to the entire group; your nerves were so on edge that when your best friend's voice filled the void you almost jumped in your place.

"I'm tired, how about we take a break?"Jeongin raised his arms towards the ceiling, stretching his back and then collapsing gracelessly against the soft cushions of the sofa.

Hyunjin nodded while massaging his neck, stiff after so many hours of looking down at his notes and reading "I thought no one was going to say it, I was going crazy."

Chan didn't say anything, he just closed his notebooks and imitated Jeongin in his relaxed pose against the couch. You felt out of place when the boys started chatting about meaningless things to lighten the atmosphere.

You only nodded when you felt your input was necessary, or laughed when you thought that was the reaction you should have but you didn't speak, because in fact, you weren't sure you were going to say anything coherent or at least make your voice louder than a whisper, so you decided that the best course of action was to stay quiet.

If the boys noticed it, they didn't say anything, and you couldn't be more grateful for it.

"You know" Chan interrupted the laughter of the other two boys after a not-so-funny story told by Hyunjin.

Everyone focused their attention on him, the tone of voice he'd used was more serious than his usual; so serious that it forced you to look up for the first time since the recess began and you found Chan's brown eyes looking directly at you, doing it so intensely that you thought he was staring right into your soul.

You held your breath, but you weren't prepared for what he said next.

"My secret admirer hasn't written to me in a few days" He was still looking at you, but there was something strange hidden in his irises, something you couldn't decipher.

Silence once again took over Hyunjin's living room, and the tension could be cut with a knife, it almost seemed like time had stopped when the brunette pronounced the last syllable. Your mouth felt dry, and your palms began to sweat. The weight of his words floated in the air and a thousand thoughts passed through your mind, each one more disconcerting than the last.

Hyunjin snorted, and looked maliciously at Chan "Maybe they are tired of you."

His mocking comment broke the heavy silence like thunder. Jeongin joined in with a playful smile, taking the opportunity to tease Chan mercilessly. “Maybe your secret admirer found someone else,” he joked, his tone light and teasing, “Or maybe they are just playing hard to get.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, wanting to burst while the boys laughed at Chan's expense while he, in response, rolled his eyes and smiled sarcastically at the jokes that his friends kept saying, he also looked at you from time to time making your discomfort even more evident.

You desperately searched for words to contribute to the conversation, your voice choked by the rising anxiety. But as Jeongin and Hyunjin's playful teasing continued, you remained silent, feeling like a bystander in a conversation that was becoming more cryptic by the second. Chan's gaze never left you, and despite the teasing, there was something in his eyes that betrayed a deeper understanding. His comment felt like a puzzle piece falling into place, yet you couldn't put your finger on what he truly knew.

As the laughter subsided, the room descended into an awkward silence once more, and then Chan finally spoke up, his tone more subdued than before. "Well, whoever it is," he began, his eyes still locked on yours, "I hope they know they've brightened my days with their letters."

The comment hung in the air, carrying a weight that seemed to pull everyone into its gravity. Jeongin and Hyunjin exchanged glances, their playful demeanor suddenly giving way to something more conspiracy.

You, on the other hand, felt an overwhelming mix of emotions. The anxiety that'd been building throughout the day reached a crescendo. You wanted to say something, to respond in some way, but the words caught in your throat.

Hyunjin broke the silence once more, this time with a touch of sincerity in his voice. "Whoever they are," he said, "they must really care about you, man." Jeongin nodded in agreement, and the room seemed to shift, it was a subtle transformation, but one that you couldn't help but notice.

Chan smiled, a genuine one that reached his eyes. "Yeah," he admitted, "They do mean a lot to me."

You desperately needed a moment to collect your thoughts and emotions after that serious conversation, so you mumbled something about getting a drink from the kitchen, excusing yourself with a weak smile and slowly, you retreated from the living room, the voices of the boys fading as you put some distance between you and the group.

In the dimly lit kitchen, you leaned against the countertop, your heart still racing from the tension in the room. The realization that Chan cherished those anonymous letters hit you like a ton of bricks. You'd never imagined how much they meant to him.

Just as you were lost in thought, the sound of footsteps behind you made you jump. You turned to find Chan standing there, a serious yet gentle expression on his face. His presence seemed to fill the room with warmth, and your anxiety ratcheted up another notch.

"Hey," he said softly, "You okay?"

You nodded, unable to form words an he took a step closer, his gaze never left yours.

Chan's brown eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world had frozen around you. You couldn't contain the thoughts racing through your mind any longer. With a trembling voice, you finally asked the question that'd been gnawing at you.

"Do you know who's been sending those letters?"

Chan's expression remained calm, but you could see a glimmer of something in his eyes, a hint of knowing. He didn't answer immediately, instead, he stepped closer, narrowing the distance between you.

His voice was soft as he replied, "I have a feeling I might have a clue."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you searched his face for more hints. What did he mean by 'a clue'? It was clear he was being deliberately vague, and it only added to your curiosity.

"But," he continued, "I'd like to hear it from you. Tell me, do you know who it is?"

You hesitated, the weight of the truth pressing down on you. The walls between you and Chan seemed to dissolve, and the vulnerability in his eyes was mirrored in your own. With a shaky breath, you summoned the courage to speak, your voice quivering with fear and anticipation.

"It's me."

The admission hung in the air, heavy and uncertain. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes locked on the floor as you waited for his reaction. The seconds felt like hours as you replayed all the letters, and the emotions you'd poured into them.

Chan's silence stretched, and the tension in the room became palpable. Your heart raced, and you feared the worst — rejection, awkwardness, or even laughter.

Then, he reached out, gently lifting your chin with his fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes. The warmth and kindness in his gaze melted away your fears.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice soft and sincere. "I've cherished every single one."

As tears welled up in your eyes, Chan reached out to gently wipe them away with his thumb. He pulled you into a comforting embrace, holding you close as your emotions overwhelmed you. You couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they flowed freely as you nestled into his embrace. He whispered soothing words, his voice a balm to your soul, reassuring you that everything would be okay.

After a moment of shared comfort, you pulled away slightly, looking up at him with curiosity. "But how did you know it was me?" you finally asked, your voice still trembling.

Chan smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, a knowing twinkle in his eye, and replied, "I had my suspicions, especially after some of the things you wrote. But what really gave it away was your handwriting."

You blinked in surprise.

Handwriting? You hadn't considered that, no, haven't even thought about it when you started this a year ago, and to be honest you felt a little dumb.

Chan continued, "I recognized your handwriting from a birthday card you gave me a while back. It was similar to the writing in the letters. And then, well, I saw you looking at me during our hangouts, and it all just started to make sense."

You blushed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. It seemed like you'd left more clues than you thought. But instead of feeling exposed, you felt a strange sense of comfort knowing that he'd noticed your feelings all along.

With a shy smile, you said, "I guess I'm not very good at hiding my feelings, am I?"

Chan chuckled softly. "No, but that's okay. I'm glad you told me."

As you gazed into Chan's eyes, you noticed something change in his expression. The initial surprise and curiosity gave way to a more tender, understanding look. He cupped your face gently, his touch warm and reassuring.

"You know," he began softly, "I've always appreciated those letters. They made me feel special, like someone out there truly understood me. And I never wanted to pressure you into revealing yourself," Chan continued. "I wanted you to do it when you were ready."

"I was just afraid," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of what you might think, of how it might change things between us."

Chan's thumb traced small circles on your cheek as he reassured you, "Don't be. This doesn't change how I feel about what we have. If anything, it makes it even more special."

A tear escaped from the corner of your eye, but this time, it wasn't a tear of anxiety or fear. It was a tear of relief, of happiness. You leaned into Chan's touch, and he leaned closer, his eyes locked on yours, and before you knew it, his lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss. The world seemed to melt away as your lips met his, you felt the warmth of his body against yours, and the sensation sent shivers down your spine. His hands cradled your face, holding you gently but firmly, as if he never wanted to let you go.

The taste of his lips was sweet and comforting, like a warm embrace on a cold winter's day, you could feel the steady beat of Chan's heart, matching the rhythm of your own. The world around you disappeared, and there was only the two of you.

And just as you were lost in that sweet moment, the kitchen door burst open, and in walked your friends, their playful banter filling the room while wearing grins so wide they threatened to split their faces. Jeongin couldn't help but tease you, waggling his eyebrows playfully. "Well, well, looks like someone finally got the courage to make a move!"

Hyunjin joined in with a mock-sympathetic tone. "And here we thought we'd have to wait another century for this to happen!"

You blushed furiously, pulling away from Chan who chuckled in amusement, still holding you close. "You guys have impeccable timing," he remarked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Jeongin winked at you, "Hey! We're just glad we won't have to hear you two mooning over each other anymore."

#stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz soft thoughts #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #bri writes

885 notes · View notes

irisintheafterglow · 9 months

Text

You Are In Love (Gojo Satoru x You)

summary: you can't stop dreaming about him, and your friends start to notice a change in your behavior. (2.4k words)

cw/tags: mild angst to comfort, friends to lovers, pining, idiots in love, profanity, elder sorcerers being assholes, pet names (doll, gorgeous, etc), uhh gojo loses his cool and blows up a building lol, kissing, one instance of foreshadowing manga spoilers but only if you squint

note: HELLOO GOJO NATION. ok so i'll be so honest with you, this stupid man was my #1 for so long and i think those feelings resurfaced so i got a little carried away with writing this (it's my longest fic so far, my bad). but yk something about gojo, hawks, and kuroo all being played by the voice actor just gets me. the prompt for this is from the AMAZING @creativepromptsforwriting and was supposed to be a drabble but turned into a full fic. anyways, hope you enjoy it!!

likes/reblogs/feedback are always appreciated!

“It’s too quiet. Can I tell you guys a joke I heard on TV?”

“Mmm, please don’t.”

“But it’s funny!”

“Satoru.”

“Ooh, using my first name. Something’s up with you.”

“Something is not up with me, weirdo.”

“No, something is definitely off with you today.” You thought Suguru and Shoko had stopped listening, but they chimed in with evidence of your odd behavior.

“You said good morning differently,” Shoko added, casually taking a sip of her soda and peering at you over the rim. Her hair sways gently in the breeze outside of the convenience store you four had stopped at before heading back to Jujutsu Tech. You glare at her and open your mouth to defend yourself when Suguru adds his two cents.

“You tripped up during that last mission that should have been a cakewalk,” which was true, but you thought your mistake had gone unnoticed. The truth was, the spirit had caught you off guard with a simple teleport trick. It warped behind you and unlatched its grotesque jaws to end your life faster than you could blink. You should have been able to predict the movement with your eyes closed, but you’d been too focused on making sure a certain white-haired sorcerer was alive after your group had been ambushed several hundred feet underground. Suguru had given you a curious look after one of his demons saved your ass, and you’d flipped him off hoping that would be the end of it. “And you also flipped me the bird instead of saying thank you,” he shrugged.

“You also finish your food the fastest out of all of us, and today you haven’t even taken three bites,” Shoko says, finishing her drink and standing to toss it in the trash bin. “Something’s going on with you, and I, for one, am incredibly curious as to why.” Satoru watches you with a smug glint in his eye, and it takes all your willpower not to strangle him.

“As glad as I am to know that you all pay such great attention to my habits, I promise there’s nothing wrong.” The three of them stare at you skeptically but thankfully decided to drop the subject, instead pivoting to who’s most likely to go to jail first (it’s Gojo).

After the late lunch, you begin the walk back to Jujutsu Tech as the sky transforms into faded shades of orange and pink. The vanishing sun casts shining reflections on the surrounding skyscrapers, bouncing off the windows of speeding cars and zooming trains. Satoru and Suguru walk ahead, playfully shoving each other and almost falling over doing so.

“Alright, are you gonna tell me what’s going on now that Dumb and Dumber aren’t here?” Shoko asks as she falls into step with you. The sides of your mouth turn down, realizing that she didn’t forget about your conversation at lunch. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell your closest friends what was going on; you just didn’t know how to explain what you had dreamed about the previous night and the night before that, and all the nights the past two weeks.

It began with a look he had given you after a meeting with some higher-ups in the sorcerer world. They had visited Jujutsu Tech unexpectedly, stating that they would be evaluating the skill levels of random students. Out of your group of friends, only you and Satoru had been pulled to be tested. Principal Yaga had instructed both of you before entering the room to give the evaluation your best effort and to not become indignant if they judged you poorly.

The brass declared your evaluation to be first, and you poured all of your energy into showcasing the power of your Cursed Technique. You even managed to pull off a few strikes of extension techniques that you’d been perfecting for months. Though the entire performance lasted less than ten minutes, you were breathless and light-headed when the panel told you to stop. After bowing deeply, you moved to exit the room, desperate for fresh air, but they stopped you and began listing every single reason why your demonstration was unsatisfactory. Besides “inefficient technique, predictable attacks, weak offense, insufficient defense,” and a general lack of power compared to that of other sorcerers at your level, they informed you that your Cursed Technique was obsolete and would eventually render you useless as more innately talented sorcerers take your place. You were speechless at their blunt criticism of your effort, on the verge of breaking down, but you managed to nod in acknowledgment as you stepped out of the room.

But then you saw him sitting there, waiting on his phone and looking up at you with a bright smile as he stood to greet you. A confusing blend of disappointment, anger, sadness, and loneliness panged in your heart and spread to the rest of your body, and you rapidly tried to blink away the moisture welling up in your eyes while Satoru approached. He was halfway through a snarky remark about you blowing away their expectations when his smile dropped and his eyebrows furrowed with concern. Shit, he’d noticed you crying.

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me. What the fuck did they do to you?” Dashing blue eyes found yours through the clouds in your vision, and his thumbs gently brushed away stray tears that escaped down your cheeks.

“Do you think I’m weak, Satoru?” Your voice cracks when the words finally spill out, swallowing hard to push down the sobs threatening to break loose from your constricted lungs. Satoru freezes, eyes searching yours. He doesn’t answer your question immediately, but instead asks again.

“Doll, what the fuck did they do.” You can’t get a reply out in time before his focus snaps up to behind you, and a second later you hear the door roll open, one of the officials commanding Satoru to enter for his evaluation. His large hands hold your face and turn you to look up at him, and you move unconsciously to cover his hands with yours. “Stay here for me, okay?” He glanced at the official waiting in the doorway, blue eyes dark with suppressed rage. “This won’t take long.”

His evaluation lasts two minutes and four seconds. At first, the room was silent and you couldn’t hear any demonstration of Satoru’s technique, almost as if the panel was having a conversation with him before they began. Then, at two minutes on the dot, the room was blown to splinters. The door, the ceiling, the porch, and all of the furniture inside were violently thrown outward in an explosion that made the ground beneath your feet tremble. Curiously, none of the debris had hit you, but you coughed through the dust and saw that the panel hadn’t been so lucky, all of them buried under shredded beams of wood and canvas. And, standing at the center of the room’s remains with a satisfied grin plastered on his beautiful face, was Satoru. He found his way over to where you stood in disbelief and took your hand in his, interweaving your fingers and guiding you away from the ruined building.

You two walked hand-in-hand in silence back to your dorm, where he seemed reluctant to let go of your hand. Before he walked away, he finally answered your question from earlier.

“I tell you this not just as your friend, but as another sorcerer. You are not weak. Your technique is special and something that those shithead elders haven’t seen in decades, and they don’t like what they don’t understand. I know the thought of leaving Jujutsu Tech crossed your pretty little mind, but you shouldn’t. People need you here, Shoko, Suguru, Mei Mei...” He hesitated, taking a shallow breath and reaching back for your hand.

“Me,” he said, his voice low, and his voice got even softer until it was almost a breath. “I need you here.” As quickly as the fondness in his voice appeared, it disappeared. “And, plus, you definitely can’t leave us here with ol’ Yaga. What the hell am I gonna do if I can’t hide in your room while he’s trying to beat my ass?”

You laugh, and the feeling makes you feel better. He makes you feel better. You smile back at him and finally bid him farewell, and he raises your hand to his lips as he says goodbye.

After that, he’d appeared in your dreams for two weeks straight. The dreams started as a continuation of what would have happened if you didn’t just say goodbye to him, if you’d invited him into your dorm, or if you’d let him pull you into his. They transformed after the fourth day into what it would be like to love him and receive his love in return: stolen kisses, flirty whispers, and movie dates to name a few. All these dreams added up to the previous night’s nightmare, where a mission had gone bad and he’d been imprisoned with no hope of breaking him free. You’d startled awake covered in sweat, and barely fell back asleep before your alarm forced you to start the day.

“It’s… hard to explain,” you reply apologetically, and Shoko looks at you with so much skepticism written on her face that you have to turn away and look in the other direction.

“So something is bothering you.”

“Yeah, there is. I’m sorry; it’s just really, really hard to verbalize.”

“Can I take a stab at what’s bothering you?”

“If you could actually stab it that’d be great, but sure. Knock yourself out.”

“It’s Satoru, isn’t it?” You stop mid-stride and her face lights up with amusement. “Holy shit, it’s Satoru. You like Gojo Satoru.”

“Jeez, Shoko, go ahead and say his name four hundred million times, why don’t you? But really, what tipped you off?”

“Ten seconds ago when you asked me to stab your problem, I figured it out,” she chuckles, bumping her shoulder against yours playfully. “If it’s any consolation, I’m 99% sure he’s felt that way about you for a while.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“How do you know?”

“Would you let me off the hook if I said it was hard to explain?”

“Har, har, very funny. Could you at least try?”

“Mmm, I think it’s better if he explains it himself.”

“You’re no help, Shoko.”

“Yes, and you love me anyway. But not as much as you love Sa–” You groan, covering your burning face in both hands and increasing the speed of your steps to escape your friend’s teasing chuckles.

When you finally arrive at school, the stars have started rising and the moon hangs in the sky. You walk in the direction of the dorms when Shoko suddenly unlinks her elbow from yours, winking at you over your shoulder.

“Suguru, can you help me move something from the gym real quick? I forgot a few things over there.”

“Sure, but why do you need my help?” Shoko gives him a pointed look and realization quickly washes over his features. “Oh, OH. Okay, of course, sure.” Suguru turns on his heel awkwardly, briskly walking in the direction of the gym.

“Satoru, walk them back to their dorm. Don’t want anything happening to them after their little slip today,” she adds before heading in the other direction with Suguru, who tries and fails to communicate something to Satoru with a nod of his head.

“Alright, pretty girl, you heard Shoko. C’mere and let me walk you home before she beats my ass.”

“I think you have too many people on this planet that want to beat your ass. And, for the record, I’m one of them.”

“It’s the price of being this gorgeous, gorgeous.” A soft laugh escapes your mouth, and you swear Satoru’s smile gets a little wider. The rest of the short walk to your dorm is just as easy and comfortable, Satoru making stupid comments and you replying with a quick remark over and over until you’re back in the same situation you’d been in two weeks ago. But, this time, you realized that Satoru was a lot closer to you, leaning back against your door with your hand touching the handle but not opening it. You both spend a few moments there, just looking at each other, and his mesmerizing eyes flicker to your mouth when you unconsciously lick your lips. He opens his mouth to say something smart, but you beat him to it.

“If you’re gonna look down at my lips and say something stupid about it, you might as well do what I’ve been wanting you to do for ages.”

“Oh? And what’s that, pretty girl?”

You sigh in mock disappointment and look up at him through your eyelashes. “If you don’t know what it is by now, then I guess… you don’t deserve to do it.” His pupils are blown wide with desire, and you resist the impulse to laugh.

“God, you’re intoxicating,” he says, before pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut and you melt into him, arms snaking around his neck while his hands find your waist and hold you up from your knees that have turned to jelly. The first kiss is gentle and experimental, but having the flirtiest asshole in the country chasing your lips as you briefly pull away gives you a newfound wave of confidence, pulling him closer and closer until his body is flush against yours. When you finally pull away from each other and catch your breath, he doesn’t go very far, resting his forehead against yours.

“You know, I wanted to kill them. Those wrinkly assholes two weeks ago that had the gall to call you weak. And I would have, you know I would have, but you were outside… and you were crying… I just didn’t know what to do. I saw red, and, uh, then the building exploded.” You chuckle at his confession and he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, rubbing his nose against yours.

“I had a dream about you. Well, a lot of dreams.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. Got a little nervous today when I heard you talk with Shoko about liking a boy, but it helps knowing now that the boy is me. And, hopefully, it will only ever be me.”

“You pretentious asshole.”

“You know it.”

“You’re a dork.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dork.”

“I know you are.”

“And I’m never going anywhere.” He kisses your forehead sweetly, and it’s just like the dreams that had plagued you for weeks before. “Ever.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#gojo x you #gojo fanfic #gojou satoru x reader #gojo angst #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk shoko #jjk suguru

842 notes · View notes

mikuni14 · 2 months

Text

The last 2 weeks have provided me with amazing experiences from the BL series fan community. Moments when several series with very active fandoms are aired at the same time are very rare, and with the end of 2 series this week, I'm already mourning this wonderful, one-of-a-kind experience.

I have been camping in the following tags for many days and each one is different and unique: Love For Love's Sake I can't put into words what this show and fandom has given me. The number of absolutely insane analyses, meta, touching declarations of love to this series from moved viewers, and beautiful gifs is staggering. The series is excellent, the audience's reaction is also wonderful, it was such a great experience. Which doesn't surprise me, because it was people's reaction to real ART, which is always something special. The series itself is 10/10 for me in every category: love story, plot, actors, emotions, my investment in the story, quality, execution, even the "heat", because even though there were no love scenes, the guys were able to convey that they are very into each other 🥰

Dead Friend Forever I also enjoy the fandom experience immensely, the tag is full of great analysis and meta. The plot is so interesting and full of surprising twists and turns that there is always something new to discuss and come up with wild theories. The series is still ongoing, but for this moment it's also perfect for me and 10/10: love story (hehe), plot, actors, emotions, my investment in the story, quality, execution, also the "heat" (hehe).

Pit Babe I rate the fandom experience as *chef's kiss*. Tag is also full of interesting analyzes and meta, amazing gifs of Way. The fandom is generally very cheerful and unhinged, which is GREAT ✨ But what's most interesting is that if someone who didn't know Pit Babe checked the tag now, they would never guess who the main character and main couple of the series are (and this doesn't only apply to tumblr!). I find this incredibly funny 🤡 I'm not that interested in the series itself, so I won't rate it. I treat it as pure fun and entertainment, so I have zero expectations for the finale, especially since, of course, I've already stumbled upon possible spoilers. Personally, what I will take away from the entire series is my deepened love for Nut and a fascination with Way, whom I want like little girls want a new Barbie doll.

Last Twilight Another wild fandom experience lol I practically didn't visit the tag of this series at all, but I spent the last two episodes there in full camping mode, in a tent and cooking coffee after coffee over the fire 😄 Fans have once again soared to the heights of perfection, writing amazing analyzes and meta responses to the crap of the last episodes. The criticism was precise, justified, systematized, methodical and accurate 👩‍🎓 As with LFLS, it was an intellectual experience. The fans provided better entertainment than the series itself lol

The Sign hmm, for several weeks the tag has been dominated by BillyBabe, which is not strange because only this couple is responsible for BL aspect in this BL series 😄 I rate my fandom experience with The Sign in two categories: "until episode 7" full of amazing meta, analysis, beautiful gifs and enrichment for me as a fan, overall 10/10 and "after episode 7" which I spent mainly on… liking BillyBabe's photos and videos . Which is ok, because, well, I do like them a lot 😉

Two of the above series have already ended, although fans are still present, two more are ending this week. That's why I would like to take this opportunity and say THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart to all the fans, those who wrote emotional entries, deep and thoughtful meta, funny posts, created beautiful gifs, analyzed endlessly the smallest details and posted photos and videos of their favorite actors. You all made these last few days so interesting and fun. I hope there will be more days like this in 2024! 🥰

And now I'll only have DFF…

#love for love's sake #dead friend forever #pit babe the series #last twlight the series #the sign the series #thai bl #korean bl #bl drama

53 notes · View notes

davnittbraes · 9 months

Text

A Study in Feminism

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7190 (I’m sorry)

Warnings, tags etc: mention of addiction and recovery, very brief unwanted physical restraint, reader technically commits assault and runs from the cops, mentions of past relationships, arguing, angst (of course, because it’s me,) rage at the patriarchy, explicit smut, oral f!receiving (of course, because it’s Frankie,) unprotected p in the v action with previously given consent and present but not mentioned birth control, c-spot orgasm (DONE RIGHT, none of that blindly stabbing at things nonsense) and some fluffy silliness to top it off

Notes: this is my first true one-shot, as in I have no intention of developing this into a series. We’ll see how long that lasts lol. No mention of Frankie’s kid(s?) here, the word count is bad enough without diving into that

Objectively, it’s a shitty bar.

But it’s the only one in the area that won’t be packed tonight - it’s lack of television screens eliminates the chance of rowdy, drunk crowds packing in to watch the big game, and really, the last thing you want is to be around a bunch of obnoxious people right now.

Today was… A Day.

Your morning sucked. Work sucked. Your commute sucked. Everything just. Sucked.

The type of exhaustion born from dealing with too much bullshit is setting into your muscles and all you want to do is close this day out with an ending that isn’t as terrible as the rest of it.

So. The bar is shitty, but it’s quiet, and it has food and alcohol. Three out of the four things you need right now.

And the last thing just texted you to say he’s on his way.

You smile as you type out a quick reply to Frankie. Funny, you’ve been doing that a lot lately.

Smiling, about Frankie.

It’s only been a few months, and you’ve both got enough relationship baggage that neither of you are rushing into anything. So it’s a little early for you to be confident in saying it’s going to be a long-term thing.

But you’re still smiling when you lock your phone and the wallpaper photo lights up your screen - you and Frankie, kissing in the middle of a mutually enabled giggle fit.

Not an unusual scene, in your relationship.

He makes you laugh, often, those dry one-liners that come out of nowhere, spoken in that quiet, almost always gentle voice. A voice that belies his strength and determination, a focused drive that got him through his military career and earned him a place on elite task forces.

The same focus that pulled him out of the pit of addiction and led him to be five years clean this year.

Now, he’s the reason why your exhaustion is already starting to slough off your shoulders, just the anticipation of his presence enough to set your heart racing and turn your thoughts away from the events of the day.

He’s the reason why you had the energy to shower after work, throw on a pretty sundress and some makeup instead of sulking alone at home on the sofa.

He’s the reason why you wanted to end the day on a positive note, because since Frankie came along, you know what it’s like to be happy and you want to stay that way.

Shifting on your bar stool, you set your phone down and reach for the glass in front of you, taking a sip. The unoccupied seat beside you suddenly fills, a guy wearing a bit too much cologne sliding into it.

Internal alarm bells go off immediately, skin on the back of your neck prickling in warning. There are plenty of empty seats that aren’t right next to you. But then again, this isn’t the first time some guy has invited himself into your evening unwanted. You can handle this.

Glancing around, you pick out an empty table for two toward the back. You’ll just move over there -

“Hey.”

You look at the man who just sat next to you, silently praying to whatever the patron saint of women drinking in bars is. Please let him not be a creep. “Hey, I was just moving -“

“Come on, now, you’re the reason why I sat here in the first place.” He turns to face you, smile too forced, gaze drifting down your body. “I’ll buy you a drink, we’ll get to know each other.”

Nope. Not a chance.

Keeping your tone neutral, you move to slide off the barstool. “I’m good, thanks.”

He stands up suddenly, stepping too close, expression shifting to something dark.

You inhale sharply, startled, and his cologne catches in the back of your throat, stinging your eyes and almost making you cough and you blink rapidly to clear your vision.

Gotta get away, where -

“Hey, dude. She said no.”

An unfamiliar voice drifts over your shoulder, a tall, broad man stepping up to your side, placing himself just a bit in front of you.

You can’t help but frown at him - who is this guy? - but the creep with the cologne scoffs, gives him a onceover, then slinks away.

The guy turns to smile at you, and your frown fades. He’s instantly charming, warm and friendly. And he did just scare off what was going to be a problem for you.

Clearing your throat, you reach for your drink to get rid of the lingering scent of strong cologne. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs, settling into the now-empty stool. “I see a girl in trouble, I have to step in. It’s the right thing to do.”

Those internal alarm bells sound off again, quieter this time, unsure. He seems friendly, but he moved right into that stool the creep had just left far too easily for your comfort.

Time to go.

You grab your phone, slip it into your purse. “Well, I wasn’t really in trouble, but I appreciate that you want to help other people.”

“Guys like him are assholes. They should be put in their place more often.” He shakes his head, leaning an elbow against the bar, charming smile dimming as if he’s upset even talking about it. “Might not have seemed like it to you, but men like him can flip pretty quickly. He definitely would have taken advantage of you.”

A flash of surprise makes you freeze, staring at him. He assumes you were completely blind to how obviously dangerous that guy was?

A hard note slips into your voice, despite your efforts to keep it light. “I was leaving when you showed up. I would have been fine.”

He clicks his tongue, gaze running down your frame in an echo of the other guy’s. “I’m sure you would have. But girls like you are always safer when you have a man to look after for you.”

“Excuse me?” Your voice rises, anger rushing through your veins. “I don’t need ‘a man to look after me.’ I can do that myself. Watch me.”

You shove off the barstool, spinning around to -

His hand grabs your arm, grips tight, pulls you back.

Shock rips through anger and you yank hard to free your arm -

His fingers dig in, bruise -

It doesn’t budge he’s too strong -

You struggle to pull free, managing to glare at him, anger flaring bright at the smug look on his face. “Let me go.”

He grins, gaze dark with something that curls into your stomach and makes you sick. Makes your heartbeat waver and your lungs clench with panic.

You hate this feeling.

This feeling of helplessness.

It’s one you’ve felt too many times in situations too similar to this, when you’ve had to cautiously navigate a conversation with a strange man who was coming on to you, always aware of the fact that they were usually bigger and stronger than you, that many people would be on his side if it came to a fight.

That society would have you “give him a chance,” no matter what you wanted.

Frustration sweeps through shock and panic.

No.

You’ve had enough of men making you feel this way.

Like you’re powerless.

You shove him with your free hand, pushing all your body weight into the motion.

He jerks backward, thrown off balance, letting go of your arm as he stands up. “Hey! Watch it -“

“What’s going on?”

The quiet, gentle words seep into the tension in the air, dull the harsh beat of your pulse in your ears.

You look over your shoulder, voice rushed, high with too much emotion. “Frankie.”

He’s eyeing the stranger, jaw set in a tight line as he moves to stand by you, placing himself between you and the guy.

A thrill of something primal squeezes the air from your lungs - the way Frankie moves, with the confident grace of someone who has fought similar fights countless times, and won.

With the absolute certainty that he will do whatever is necessary in order to protect you.

Your heartbeat races for a different reason, another kind of heat flooding your system.

Seeing Frankie stand up for you is… unfairly sexy.

The stranger scoffs, looking at you over Frankie’s shoulder, sneer twisting his features. “For someone who doesn’t need a man, you sure are quick to hide behind one.”

You freeze.

Shame pours ice-hot down your back.

No. You will not let him make you feel like this.

Powerless.

Anger boils, irrational and unstoppable -

You’re moving, slipping around Frankie and pushing out all your anger and frustration at this asshole and all the world’s assholes and -

Ow.

The stranger is shouting, slumping, holding his hands to his nose.

Why does your hand hurt?

You’re moving again, surging toward the stranger, but someone grabs you and -

Instinct shoves you back, a grunt as your elbow hits something soft -

Rage dims enough for a sliver of awareness to sink back in.

Frankie wraps an arm around your waist again, pulling you back, his voice finally registering to your anger-haze mind. “Stop, come on, we have to get out of here -“

A patron sitting at the bar a few seats away is on his phone, talking frantically, you catch words drifting through the rush of blood in your ears -

Police -

Assault -

Broke his nose -

You push Frankie away and find your feet, grabbing your purse and moving quickly toward the back door.

The cool night air hits your skin and you gasp, the contrast to the heat boiling in your chest sharp and disorienting.

Frankie’s right behind you, pulling the door shut and striding quickly toward the street. “Come on, I parked this way. We’ll go to my place, it’s closer.”

Instinct more than anything pushes you to follow him, your mind too chaotic with adrenaline and anger to think. The guy’s sneering smirk replays in your head over and over, that smug superiority of someone who thinks they hold power over another person.

Your teeth hurt as you clench your jaw.

Worse, that he did hold power over you. That he was stronger than you.

That he proved his point.

Because Frankie -

Was only trying to help you -

The rational thought burns to ash as soon as it crosses your mind, caught in a whirlwind of rage echoing with the words of the asshole back at the bar.

Because Frankie shoved his way in.

Frankie opens the passenger side door to his truck, gesturing for you to get in. The gesture reminds you of when he’d stepped between you and that asshole and shame ripples through you again.

You liked it -

No, he interfered, he didn’t think you could hold your own -

You shake your head sharply, trying to knock the irrational, anger-fuelled thoughts back as you slide into the seat and he closes the door.

Deep breath. Let it out. Try to calm down.

The silence is heavy as he drives, vibrating with tension, hanging between you just waiting to crack and spill out all the words you’re trying so hard not to say, but that tiny sliver of rationality is growing harder and harder to hold on to, worn away by the memory of that smug smile and that slimy glance down your body and those words -

“Wanna tell me what happened?”

Frankie’s quiet voice is jarring to the noise in your head, just enough for your tenuous hold on your temper to finally snap.

You shift roughly in your seat, struck with the urge to move but annoyingly stuck where you are for now. “What ‘happened’ was you got in the way.”

He glances at you, a movement you see out of the corner of your eye. “How did I get in the way?”

Ignoring the heat of frustration in his voice, you power through, holding tight to your own anger. “You shoved yourself into a situation that I was handling just fine without you.”

“Really.” The sarcasm is a low blow, it stokes your anger perfectly. “I wasn’t aware you wanted to go to jail tonight. Sorry I stopped that from happening.”

You throw up your hands, let them fall to your lap with a loud slap to emphasize your frustration. “Don’t be dramatic. I would have been fine. I didn’t need you to get involved.”

A moment of silence, and you risk a glance in his direction - the green glow of a traffic light illuminates him as the truck passes underneath it, catching the faint movement of his index finger tapping slowly against the steering wheel.

Great. He’s using that anger management technique he learned in therapy.

Next he’ll be trying to walk you through it too, count steadily to ten, so you can both calm down and talk about this.

Yet another thing you don’t need from him right now.

Right now, you want to rage, at him, at the asshole in the bar, at the entire world, for making you feel like you aren’t enough.

Frankie clears his throat. “Obviously not. That punch was perfect.”

The words throw you for a loop, not what you were expecting, but not enough to quench your anger. “Yeah, well, I’m no spec ops but I can throw a punch. Which is why I didn’t need you to step in.”

He looks at you again as he turns onto his street, but it’s too dark to see his expression. “Look, I saw you were in trouble -“

“I was handling it.” You cut him off quick but he keeps going.

“- and I care about you, so yes, I stepped in -“

“- I didn’t ask you to -“

“You don’t have to, that’s just what you do for people you care about.”

An undefinable emotion flood your veins, hot and cold at the same time. “Oh, so that guy cares about me?”

A pause. “What?”

You scoff, fold your arms across your chest, suddenly hyperaware of your body and uncomfortable about it. “He stepped in when another creep was being too pushy, so he must care about me, too, right? I should have been grateful to him, let him buy me a drink?” Rage chokes your throat. “Should I have let him take me home and fuck me because he stood up for me?”

“You know that’s not what I’m saying -“

“Then what are you saying, Frankie?” You twist in your seat, look at him without even seeing him. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re no different than that guy.”

Frankie stills, turns off the ignition, sits back in his seat.

You hadn’t even realized he’d parked in his driveway.

Blinking, you finally look at him.

The outside light is on, casting his features in a dull orange, deepening the shadows around his eyes from the bill of his baseball cap. You can’t see them, but it doesn’t matter - you can tell by the slump of his shoulders, the downturned corners of his mouth.

Your words echo in your thoughts.

Guilt spikes through your anger.

You hadn’t -

You didn’t mean -

What you said last still hangs in the air, unable to be taken back.

Frankie moves, breaking the stillness. Opens the truck door and steps out. Closes it behind him.

You watch him walk up to the front door of his house, unlock it, disappear inside.

The dull thud of the door closing behind him is like a final toll of a bell.

Your voice cracks in the silence of the truck cab. “Fuck.”

The worn hinge of the truck door creaks as you scramble out, slam it behind you with a little more force than you meant to. The buzz of anger in your chest shifts, turns toward yourself too, and how you treated the one man who was kind to you tonight.

You’re such an idiot, why would you say that -

He’s not -

A growl of frustration chokes in your throat as you push through the front door.

The house is quiet, dark, only the entryway light left on. And empty, no sign of Frankie -

He comes out of the kitchen, a bag of frozen green peas in his hands.

Your heart stutters hard enough to hurt, and you lean back against the door as if it could give you strength.

Frankie stops in front of you, gaze on the bag of peas as he holds it out to you. “To keep the swelling down.”

A huff gets stuck in your tight throat, comes out more like a cry, and you blink back the blur of tears, look up, around, anywhere but at him. “How dare you be so thoughtful and sweet after I said the worst things to you.”

He gently takes your hand and turns it over to rest your sore knuckles on the bag of peas. “Still care about you.”

You can’t even look at him, can’t see the hurt that you know is obvious in those warm, brown eyes. Instead, you focus on his hands, on the large palm cupping the pack of frozen peas to your scraped knuckles, the long fingers of his other hand loosely curling around your wrist.

All the fire and heat and fury that burned in your chest moments ago suddenly sputters, flickers. Dies.

A heavy sigh loosens the tightness in your lungs. “I’m not mad at you.”

His fingers flex on your wrist, his low hum of disbelief vibrating over your skin.

Fuck, you really screwed this up, didn’t you.

Letting your head fall back against the door, you force yourself to look at him. He needs to see it, that you’re telling the truth. “I mean it. I’m not.”

That warm gaze meets yours - yeah, just as you thought, it’s there, hurt tinged with anger and now doubt.

That stings more than the hurt, actually.

The knowledge that he’s doubting you, your honesty. Maybe even how you feel about him.

Fuck your pride, girl. Just tell him.

Shifting your wrist in his grip, you take his hand, squeeze it tight. “Look, I liked it, okay? And I’m angry with myself and I took it out on you and that’s not fair, and I’m so sorry, Frankie. I’m sorry.”

A frown forms between his brows, his gaze flickering over your features in confusion. “Liked what?”

Oh god, just say it, get it over with. “When you showed up and like immediately stepped in to defend me, physically put yourself between me and the threat with no hesitation, then stood there with your stupidly broad shoulders and strong arms and testosterone and this whole aura of “don’t fuck with my girl” and god, Frankie, it was so hot. “

His mouth twitches, lips curving at the corners and his frown melts away, hurt in his eyes replaced by fond amusement. “Oh yeah? You liked that?”

Your nose wrinkles as embarrassment tries to push you away from him. “Yeah, I did.”

“Wanna know what was really hot?”

His voice dips low, rasping down your spine, pulling it into an arch that curves your hips toward him, a movement tracked by his gaze.

He definitely catches the clench of your thighs, too.

His thumb glides over your bruised knuckles. “What was really hot was watching you clock a guy with at least six inches and fifty pounds on you, staring him down like you were gonna castrate him right there in the bar.”

Biting back a grin, you twine your fingers in his, cocking your head to the side. “If only I had a knife.”

He chuckles - why is that so hot - and lets go of your hand, tugs you toward him, pushing into your space, his chest brushing your breasts through your dress. Anticipation catches in your throat, arousal you’ve been holding back for so long pulsing to life.

Then his expression turns serious, thoughtful, his free hand slipping around your waist to rest on the small of your back with casual intimacy. “That’s what I was thinking, you know.”

Your thoughts are already sluggish with a pleasant haze, it takes a moment to figure out what he’s referring to. “That you wanted me to cut his balls off?”

“I was thinking don’t fuck with my girl, because she’ll make you wish you’d never laid a hand on her, and leaving with your balls still attached is the least of your worries.”

The absolute certainty, the pride in his voice - some emotion you’re not ready to name twists behind your ribs, trembles through your veins.

God, what you wouldn’t do for this man.

Lifting your free hand, you let it trail down his chest, the slight swell of his stomach, brush over the bulge of his jeans. His breath hitches as you press your palm there, lean in to murmur against his lips.

“Don’t worry, your balls are safe with me.”

You catch the glint of his answering smile before he’s taking the sliver of distance between you and swallowing it in a searing kiss that pulls a moan from your throat.

He echoes the sound back when you flex your hand, fingernails scratching lightly against denim, palm grinding over his cloth-covered cock. Arousal warms between your thighs as you feel him twitch, already starting to strain against the fabric.

Need swarms over your skin, your thoughts, dizzying.

Fuck, everything about him feels so good, the way his body presses to yours, his hand glides up your back, his tongue swipes over your bottom lip, how his breath stutters against your cheek when your fingers curl over his length and squeeze -

Crash -

You startle, hands flying to grasp at Frankie’s shoulders as you whirl toward the source of the sound -

Tiny, cold balls ping off your legs -

What -

Frankie huffs, looking down at the floor by your feet, mouth twisting up in a sheepish smile. “Dropped the peas.”

You glance down at the bag, split open, a few random peas still rolling away, and a surprised laugh bursts from your chest. He looks at you, gaze sparking, and your laugh gets stuck in your throat, a wave of intense affection flooding warm through your veins.

It amazes you, sometimes, how much you want him.

He obviously sees it, expression shifting to something similar, darker and sweeter at the same time.

Then he’s pulling you to him, hand curling around the back of your neck as he kisses you firmly, thumb pressing at the hinge of your jaw until you open for him.

Yes -

His tongue slips into your mouth to glide along yours and a rush of heat floods your core and you clutch at his shoulders, sweep his cap off those soft curls to sink your fingers into them, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

Something shifts, you can feel it under your palms, an energy that flares to life deep within him.

Your own body responds, moulding to his, silently pleading for more.

He gives it, kiss turning into something more desperate, all lips and tongue and panting breath and hands roaming your body, catching on the fabric of your dress, slipping underneath.

The heat of his large hands on the swell of your ass makes you gasp, break the kiss, and he groans.

“Need you -“

The pleading tone of his voice brings your lips right back to his, your hips arching into his grip, shivers of pleasure racing along your skin when his fingertips dig in just enough to sting.

Then you’re moving, feet stumbling to follow him, senses too focused on how his lips move against yours and his hands sweep over your hips and his thumbs trace the waistband of your underwear -

Something soft but solid bumps against your thigh and then he’s turning you, guiding you back to lean on it - the arm of the sofa, you’re in the living room now.

He pulls away enough to look at you, dark gaze flitting over your features as if taking you in, every sign of your arousal that’s painted on your face. The corner of his mouth ticks up, as if he likes what he sees.

There’s something almost cocky about his expression and it feeds the heat growing in your core, cunt throbbing for friction. Your hands fly to his belt, start to open the buckle but he takes your wrists, stills your motion.

You hesitate, confused. “Frankie?”

“It’s okay.” He brings your hands to his lips, kisses them lightly before setting them palms down on either side of you, resting on the arm of the sofa. “I just wanna taste that perfect pussy of yours first.”

A moan falls from your lips, and his smile grows as he sinks to his knees.

Holy shit -

Seeing him like this, knelt before you with that goddamn knowing smile, his hands smoothing up your thighs as he pulls the skirt of your dress to your waist. It’s exhilarating in some way, shoving your need for him even higher.

But residual guilt suddenly tamps down on your arousal. “Frankie, I’m supposed to be making you feel good -“

“This does make me feel good.” He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and yanks them down your legs, glancing up at you as he leans in. “Hold that pretty dress up for me, baby.”

You just manage to grab the skirt of your dress to keep it out of his way when he flicks his tongue out and swipes it over your clit.

Oh fuck -

Pleasure sparks through your core, your thighs falling open, and he hums in approval as he shifts closer, large hands gliding up your legs, warm and steady, plush lips pressing a wet kiss to your clit before lifting his gaze to look up at you.

A moment, and you’re pinned by that dark brown, those beautiful eyes that glow with some kind of warmth, some sort of emotion that’s stronger than any you’re ready to name yet.

You swallow against a suddenly dry throat, a mirroring emotion swelling in your chest, his name falling from your lips in a hushed whimper. “Frankie…”

He blinks once, a slow sweep of his lashes, the last moment he gives you to breathe.

Then he truly begins.

Fuck it’s so good -

The flat of his tongue warm and slick against your folds -

Your fingers curl into the fabric of your dress, so tight it hurts.

Scrape of his moustache over your clit sends shivers of pleasure through your body -

Lungs ache for air, you struggle to breathe, swept up in a wave of hot-wet-heat that sears your skin.

It’s intense and all-consuming, how he pulls pleasure from you body with his mouth, knowing exactly what makes you fall apart, a combination of experience and intuition you’ve never been the focus of before him.

You can’t stop watching him, mesmerized by the sight of his tongue slipping through your folds, swirling around your clit, dipping down to lave over your entrance. Pleasure builds steadily, a throbbing pulse that radiates through your veins in time with your rapid heartbeat, and you finally break, gasp for breath, a sharp inhale that cracks with his name -

“Frankie oh god -“

He groans in response, dark gaze growing darker, hand gripping your thigh to haul it over his shoulder and -

Your head falls back, a cry cracking free from your aching chest.

The angle brings him closer, lets your hips roll into the heat of his mouth, and you chase it, shudder as he follows the movement, flattens his tongue so you can grind your cunt along its length.

Pleasure spirals through your veins, voice tight with it. “Yes oh god just like that -“

You try to find a rhythm but can’t, a steady tremble growing in your thighs as your pleasure swirls higher and you whine in frustration.

He pulls back, words deep and rasping against your sensitive skin. “Come on, baby, ride my tongue until you come, I wanna taste it.”

His hand grabs your hip, guides your movements, pulls your folds along the slick of his tongue and catches your clit with a flick at the end and it’s perfect so perfect and -

Again and again -

Heat grows, swirls through your core, pushing higher and higher.

Yes you can feel it right there right there -

He nudges deeper and his tongue grinds over your entrance on the next roll of your hips and you cry out, muscles tensing, so close -

Again -

A burst of wet heat -

Swell of pleasure and it bursts -

You sway with the force of it, scrambling for purchase, a hand diving into his hair to hold him there as your cunt pulses with each wave.

Finally it breaks -

Air rushes into your lungs, blood pounds in your ears, your entire body shivers with the release.

He groans long and low, tongue pressing to your entrance, long fingers gripping your hip so hard it stings. The wet sound of him swallowing your pleasure down pulls a trembling aftershock from your core.

Fuck he’s so fucking sexy and incredible and perfect -

Need you need him now -

Thoughts still scattered, a tug on his curls is all you can manage.

And he’s there, rising to kiss you, fill your mouth with the taste of your own pleasure. You melt into him, wanting more, slip a hand between your bodies to cup his cloth-covered cock.

He grunts, a sharp exhale that shoots straight to your core and sparks renewed arousal, and you squeeze as best you can through the denim of his jeans.

You find your voice, murmur against his mouth. “Are you gonna let me apologize to you now?”

His hands curve around your waist. “Apology accepted.”

Suddenly he grips and flips you around -

A whirl of motion and -

His hands press firmly between your shoulderblades, pushing you down until you’re bent over the arm of the sofa.

You moan into the sofa cushion as a shiver of primal need runs down your back - so fucking hot when he manhandles you like that - arches your hips up, seeking.

He tosses the skirt of your dress up over your waist, the clink of metal telling you he’s unbuckling his belt. “You like that? When I move you around however I want?”

A frisson of embarrassment stills your movements, and you huff into the cushion. “Shut up.”

The sound of a zipper as his words drift down over you, gentling and teasing at the same time. “Come on, baby. Say it. For me, I wanna hear it.”

Leaning up enough to throw a mock-glare at him over your shoulder, you bite your lower lip to stop from moaning again - just the sight of him, all broad shoulders and mussed hair and dark eyes, towering over you, enough to send a rush of want through your body.

And that playful, knowing look in those dark eyes tells you he’s not going to oblige you until you give him what he’s asking for.

Sighing dramatically, you flop back down, burying your face in the sofa cushion to muffle your words. “Yes, I like it.”

“Like what?”

Damn him. Whining, you wiggle your hips to tempt him into moving on from this but hands on your hips still your movement. “Fine. I like it when you move me around like that. During sex.”

He chuckles, one hand leaving you while the other grips your hip tight. “Distinction noted.”

Then he’s sliding the head of his cock through your slick folds, notching into your entrance and -

Oh fuck this angle -

The stretch -

You gasp for breath, fingers curling into the sofa cushion -

Pleasure pulses bright through your core -

He groans as he works his cock in. “Fuck, this pussy, so fucking perfect -“

The wet squelch of each slow, grinding thrust echoes in your ears, ripples through the rising heat spiralling out from where your body clenches around the thick of his cock.

Spikes of white-hot pleasure shoot through your hips and legs, tremble in your lungs, and you can’t think, only want more -

A pause, he stills, hips pressed against your ass, head of his cock tight to a spot deep inside you that sends a jolt of pleasure through your entire body.

“Gotta breathe for me, baby.”

His rasping words sink into the pleasure-haze, the ache in your lungs burning enough to finally get your attention, and you inhale sharp, voice cracking. “Oh my god, Frankie, feels so good -“

“I know, I know, just breathe.” A warm hand glides up your back and down again, in time with a gentle thrust of his hips that grinds his cock against your cervix.

Oh fuck -

An intense burst of pleasure rips through your body, flashing white at the edges of your vision.

Again -

It’s so much it’s overwhelming it’s incredible and you’re floating -

Over and over -

Your fingernails scrape at the sofa cushion, hands desperate to anchor yourself, spit out gasping words. “Right there just like that oh g-“

He grunts as your cunt pulses around him. “Holy shit, you’re gonna come already - fuck -“

The shudder runs through your entire body, clenches his cock tight, and you feel it, building so fast - too fast - it’s so much how -

A high-pitched whine of his name is all you can manage. “Frankie -“

“Come for me, come on -“

Again -

Strong hands on your waist, holding you in place -

Again -

Bright hot heat -

Bursts -

Every nerve ending in your body alight, blood rushing in your ears -

The drop and -

You gasp for air, like you haven’t taken a breath in centuries, throat aching with a sharp throb and you swallow against it - did you scream? Fuck. Probably.

Strong hands caress your lower back. “That was a good one, huh?”

Senses scattered, you blink to try and clear your vision, your head, find your words. “Yeah.”

An amused chuckle, a gentle shift of his hips that drags his cock along your sensitive inner walls, sends a shiver up your spine. “Want me to give you another one?”

Your cunt clenches instinctively as he seats himself deep again, pleasure once again spiral outward through your limbs. “Yes, make me come again, please.”

“Yeah? I want to, baby. Love watching you fall apart on my cock.” Another slow thrust that curls your toes. “Wanna give you what you want, always.”

You moan into the sofa cushion, his words slipping beneath the haze on your thoughts to someplace deeper, something that tightens around your heart.

Then strong arms are slipping underneath you, hauling you upright, hands are pressing you back against a broad chest and -

The sharp thrust of his cock rips through your body but his hands hold you firm, pin you in place as he starts up a rhythm that shoves pleasure through your veins.

Your fingers curl around his forearms, nails digging, strangled moan falling from your lips. “Holy sh-shit-“

“Yeah, I know.” He groans into the crook of your neck, tongue flicking out to taste your heated skin.

His hand slips down to where his cock pulls slick from your dripping cunt, calloused fingertips finding your aching clit instantly.

Fuck -

Your legs waver and his free hand shifts, arm wrapping around your waist to keep you steady as his fingers match pace with the snap of his hips.

Pleasure rises, hot, swirls out from your core and fills every corner of your being -

Frankie -

So perfect so good feels so good -

His free hand finds your breast, dives into the neckline of your dress to cup it firmly, grinds his palm over your peaked nipple and tiny sparks of pleasure join the flood, sweeping you away -

The first pulse of your orgasm looms, pulls a cry from your throat.

He picks up his pace, voice rasping in your ear, words stifled by the rhythm of his thrusts. “Fuck I’m gonna come, come with me, baby, please come with me I need it -“

Yes yes yes -

Up higher and higher until it’s a tidal wave of bright heat -

Your slick spatters on your inner thighs, squelches around his cock -

There -

Your head falls back, body shudders against his. “Frankie -“

His pace stutters, once, a cracked groan rumbling in your ear -

Everything pulls tight then releases and -

A flood of wet heat against the pulse of his cock deep in your pussy -

He thrusts again, again, slows, again -

Pleasure finally dims, moves to overstimulation, his fingers leave your clit to help hold you steady, his cock slowly slipping free of the clutch of your cunt.

You take a deep breath, try to find your body again. There’s a certain disorientation, soaked in spent pleasure, tilting your thoughts and skewing your senses, making everything seem so far away yet close at the same time.

The urge to find an anchor, to root yourself, pulls to the forefront.

Lifting a shaking hand, you sift your fingers through his hair. “Frankie?”

His sigh against your neck is full of contentment, lips pressing soft kisses to the space just below your jaw. “Yeah, baby?”

Somehow, that’s enough, and your own contented sigh shifts the air. “Frankie.”

“Is that the only word you know now?”

His chest vibrates with laughter against your back, enough of a physical sensation to bring you down into your body even more, become aware of his teasing tone.

You lightly tug on his curls. “Fuck you.”

“That’s three, at least.”

Huffing a laugh at his obvious display of male pride, you pull out of his embrace to lean over the couch and take more weight off your trembling legs. “What did you do to me? I can barely stand.”

“What did I do to you? What did you do to me, I thought I was gonna pass out, you were choking my cock so hard.”

“Well, that was your own fault.” You arch your back slightly, stretching sore muscles.

His hands cups the curves of your ass, groaning when you instinctively spread your legs and bend lower. “You’re killing me, baby. Look at you, you’re a mess.”

You shiver as his thumbs spread your pussy open, glide through your combined pleasure. “Hmm, well, that’s also your fault.”

“I see how it is, everything’s my fault all of a sudden.”

His playful, grumpy tone makes you grin, break character, straightening to turn around and kiss him firmly. He leans into it, arms coming around your back to hold you tight, his soft moan dusting over your cheek.

A few moments pass, moments that feel like forever and are gone too quickly at the same time, and when you pull away and meet his gaze, that beautiful, soft brown so warm with affection - for you - emotion stings the back of your throat.

Gently cupping his cheek, you stroke your thumb over one of those bare patches along his chin that his beard never grows into. “I mean it, Frankie. I’m sorry. I was angry at the world and I took it out on you, and that’s not fair.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to -“

“Please, listen.” You hate to interrupt him but you need to get this out. He pauses, nods once, and you take a breath before you continue. “You’re what I want at the end of a bad day. I’ve had more fun with you than anyone else in my entire life. And I know I can trust you to always have my back, even if I don’t think I need the support. I know you’ll be there for me.”

Swallowing back against a suddenly tight throat, you give voice to the emotions that were boiling under the surface of your anger earlier in the evening. “It’s frustrating, being a woman. Sometimes it feels like society expects this impossible balance, like we’re supposed to be ladylike, pretty and soft and gentle and also strong but not too strong, like we’re supposed suck it up but also withstand the pressure.”

Sighing, you let your hands rest on his chest, drawing strength from the steady rise and fall beneath your palms. “I just… tonight I felt that, and I hate it so much. I don’t want to feel like that. I wanted to prove to those guys - to everyone - that I am strong enough. Even more. That I’m stronger than they want me to be.”

He looks at you, tiny crease forming between his brows. “I can’t say that I understand, not exactly. But I get that feeling of not being enough, of needing to prove yourself but hating that you feel like you need to at the same time.”

Right. Of course he does.

Everything he’s been through in the last few years, he probably understands better than most.

You lift a hand, press that crease between his brows flat with the pad of your thumb. “I know you do. But you don’t need to prove anything with me. You know that, right?”

His features soften, smile pulling at his lips. “I know. Do you?”

“Yeah, I do. Even if I forget it sometimes.” Biting your bottom lip, you weigh your words, settle on what you hope is enough. “You make me happy, Frankie. Really, actually happy.”

He smiles for real, gaze warm and bright. “You make me happy, too.”

You pull him in for another kiss, trying to push everything you’re feeling into how your lips move with his, your hands curl into his hair and over his shoulders and down his sides and around his back.

It’s enough. Maybe more than.

A stronger tremble shivers down your legs and your knees buckle, pulling you and Frankie apart.

He deftly catches you around the waist, grinning. “I was that good, huh?”

Laughing, you shove his chest playfully and lean back against the arm of the sofa. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Never.” A brief kiss to your forehead, then he’s stepping back, straightening his clothes and turning to walk out of the room. “Stay here, I’ll grab something to clean you up.”

Wrinkling your nose, you try to stand, fail and settle back on the sofa. “I don’t need you to wait on me.”

“I know, and I support that.” He calls back over his shoulder as he disappears around the corner. “I’m a proud feminist, baby.”

You bite your bottom lip, giggling to yourself.

“Shit!”

His startled shout instantly wipes the smile off your face.

You pitch your voice so he can hear you. “What happened?”

A sigh that shakes with laughter. “Stepped on the peas.”

Your snorting laugh echoes as it drifts down the hallway, and you don’t really care how unladylike it sounds.

#triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction #francisco morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco morales x you #reader insert #no y/n

126 notes · View notes

tilvcei · 1 year

Text

► 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐓 PT.3

⭢ In which: it’s finally revealed who ghostface is, you just didn’t expect it to be someone you cared for deeply. if only things would’ve changed. you and your friends start to add two and two together and finally figure out who was behind this all.

☆ | warning(s): knifes, stabbing, blood, death, language, guns, needles

☆ | note: grab your snacks and lean back as this is a long, and I mean long part. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! also, uh, we got a little funny fight between mandy and ethan which I’m pretty sure you’re all here for lol, now, READ 👿

☆ | gender: they/them (reader)

☆ | REMINDER: mandy is NOT apart of the scream franchise. he’s just an add in and a oc of mines. this is all just fiction which is not real, don’t take this seriously.

Tagging 🏷: @fanboyluvr @nellyboosworld @I5byrinth @kittyamore0 @ncllcraines @briefwinnerpersonaturtle

It was now late at night, you had stayed at the shrine with the others, mindy was currently at the hospital after getting stabbed, you just hoped she was okay.

Ethan had left, mandy felt relief when he left cause he was getting on his last nerve. maybe one day he could tolerate him, who knows?

You had took your jacket off cause it was getting hot, mandy was in the lobby checking out some old books. to say he’s been with you through about— everything? tonight is the night to confess to him.

You made your way inside the lobby to check on mandy, he was busy reading a vampire rom-com. knowing he wasn’t interested in them he was just probably bored maybe.

"Hey." you said and sat next to him, he sent you a small smile, "hey." he replied while putting his attention back to book. you looked over his shoulder, you’ll admit that the book was a bit interesting.

"Okay, but why did they have to make this a sequel? I mean, it’s obvious the book is horrible but nobody wants to say it." Mandy spoke, breaking the comfortable silence between you two.

your eyebrows furrowed, "it’s not that bad. I’ve read this book before, the reviews are good." when you replied, mandy smirked.

"The rating of this book is; 2.5 stars. wanna explain that?" Mandy questioned, you groaned.

"Well when I was reading it, it wasn’t that bad. I mean, the ratings are bull. do not let me get into the story where I begged my dad to get me another one of those books. cause-" you stopped speaking when you noticed mandy was just staring at you.

What? was there something on your face? Why does he always have to make everything obvious.

"You’re beautiful." he suddenly said, your eyes widened and a blush appeared on your cheeks, "stop and pay attention to the damn book." you said and stuttered a bit.

Mandy threw the book to the ground, a deep grunt coming from his throat. then he looked at you, "I don’t think I want to." he said.

This was the right time to confess to him. It’s been almost a couple of months now, but what you don’t know is he’s been wanting to tell you himself for awhile now.

"I love you." you said, mandy let a gasp escape from his mouth. his eyes widened.

You noticed there was no reply, did he not love you back? maybe it was too soon, you said it to fast. now he’s just gonna leave.

Before you could say anything you felt lips on yours, you realized it was mandy, you wasted no time to kiss him back, he wrapped his hand around your waist as you gave him a deeper kiss in return.

Then you both pulled away, "I love you too." he said breathlessly. you pulled yourself closer into his embrace.

But this happy moment wasn’t going to last forever. a scream was heard and you recognized it as tara’s screams.

You and mandy both glanced at each other before getting up and running towards the direction of the screams.

Once you found her, you saw tara and Sam there, Chad fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood, "NO!" Mandy screamed himself.

That was his bestfriend he just saw get murdered, you looked up and—

"There’s two of these bitches?" Mandy said, they both turned to him and swiped their knifes, the blood disappearing from it.

Sam pushed you and mandy behind her protectively, you were on the verge of tears because everything was just fine a few moments ago.

"(Y/n), listen to me, okay? you see that door over there? Sam will take you and Tara there while I fight these two off." Mandy said, "What? No! I’m not leaving you." you replied, mandy placed a kiss on the top of your head.

"Look at me, I’m gonna be okay. I promise you." Mandy said and then pointed behind you, you turned and saw sam and a crying tara waiting for you.

You didn’t move an inch though, you sobbed and wiped your tears away. as much as you wanted to stay, you knew he was right.

"You’ll come back, you promise?" you asked, "always." he answered and pushed you towards tara and sam.

Then he grabbed his bat, sighing to himself, "Okay now this is real annoying. can’t you both hurry up and get this over with? I’m not gonna mock you both. but uh," mandy smirked.

"You both look real fucking stupid in those ugly ass masks. wanna know what you really are? cowards. just like the rest of them." Mandy said, you didn’t hear anymore as sam and tara dragged you inside another room.

———

As you stopped running to catch your breath, the atmosphere in the room changed. Tara placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"You okay?" She asked, all you did was nod in reply as tears fell from your eyes. you hoped mandy was okay, and that this was all a dream you’d wake up from.

You held your aching side, the wound reopening after getting hit by one of the knifes. everything was happening all at once that you yourself couldn’t even comprehend.

"(Y/n), get back." Sam said, pulling you close to her, Kirby appeared and so did detective Bailey. you turned to her, eyes wide with rage.

Kirby hands were shaking as she held the gun in her hands, "it’s okay, I’m here now. you-" you cut her off.

"Go to hell kirby, we know it’s you." you said, Kirby looked confused for a second, if it was her then who was the other person with her?

"What? No, I-" before she could finish detective Bailey appeared and shot her in the chest and stomach, your eyes widened.

You turned to detective Bailey, "Wait, where were you? I called you hours ago. and when you didn’t show up I thought they got to you too." you said, he just shook his head.

"You’re so innocent it’s ridiculous." Detective Bailey added, "Wh..what? What do you mean by that?" you questioned, you winced in pain when the blood started pouring from the reopened wound again.

Both of the ghostfaces appeared beside detective Bailey, you looked at the two, what was happening here? Tara pushed you behind her.

"Who are they?" you asked, pointing your finger at the two with a shaking hand, you heard one of them chuckle from under the mask.

"show yourself motherfucker! what did you do to Mandy?!" you yelled, your voice hoarse from screaming.

And when that person took off their mask, you stood there in disbelief. you wanted to gouge your eyes out from just seeing who it was.

Ethan.

It was him. who in the hell in their right mind would’ve thought it was the cute, dorky boy, under that mask?

Definitely not you. instead of crying or anything, you looked at him in shock and betrayal.

He smiled maniacally, his teeth being visible, his eyes were mainly on you, a crazed look crossed his features when you looked away.

"How? I thought you had went to study hall. you lied about that too, huh?" you said, that was not the question he wanted to hear come from your mouth.

Ethan didn’t reply and tilted his head in wonder, maybe you weren’t happy about this outcome but did it matter? it was a fair fight between him and Mandy. he might even brag about it.

Then that’s when it made sense. it was him at the apartment. it was him sending you those notes. all him.

How did you not know sooner? how did you not add two and two together? Mandy was right, he’s always right when it comes down to these type of things. him and mindy. they were both right. but you were too oblivious to see, you just wanted to see the greater in him. give him the benefit of the doubt.

But you were wrong. terribly wrong.

"What’s wrong (Y/n)? not who you wanted to see? holy shit, you must’ve really thought you both could be friends, too bad. he sees you more than a friend, that’s why he killed your boyfriend back there." a familiar voice said, that person took their mask off and it revealed to be none other than quinn herself.

"How? I thought you died." you said, a tremble coming from your voice, Quinn rolled her eyes, "You really are stupid. I can see why ethan likes you." she continued, Sam glared at her.

"Watch it." Sam said, you felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. this didn’t make any sense. you actually believed ethan had econ and study hall. But that shit wasn’t true, none of it was.

Ethan gave you a frown, "Aww, are you okay there dove?" he asked, you didn’t answer. at the moment all you felt was betrayal and agony.

You told him everything, you trusted him. he didn’t seem like the type to hurt anyone.

"We get ready to run in 3. okay?" Sam whispered you nodded, "Oh sam, let’s not even talk about you." Quinn said, you and Tara turned to her with confusion.

"What do you mean? Sam didn’t do anything to you psychopaths. you’ve all just gone mad." You said, Ethan smirked.

"Everyone goes a little mad sometimes. didn’t your mom go mad?" he said, at the mention of her, you went quiet.

They both made there way to the three of you, Ethan had another mask in his hands, one you didn’t recognize.

"Listen. I don’t know what you believe, but I didn’t commit those murders in woodsboro, it wasn’t me!" Sam said, holding her bleeding arm.

"Yes you did, you bitch! you killed our brother!" Quinn yelled, you turned to her while clutching your injured side.

"I thought you said you’re brother died in a car accident." Tara added, breaking the intense silence.

Wait, what were they trying to say? that Sam killed their brother? who the hell is their brother anyway, none of it made sense.

You weren’t able to add two and two together when you thought Ethan wasn’t ghostface and he was all quote on quote 'innocent'.

"You’re…you’re Richies family." Sam said, Quinn clapped her hands together with a sarcastic tone in her voice.

"Fucking finally!" said quinn as her knife went right through your shoulder, causing you to scream.

"They’re finally getting it!" another hit came to your leg this time, you let out another scream, tara grabbed a nearby brick and hit Quinn in the face with it, knocking her teeth out and watching as she fell to the ground.

Tara helped you up and you both ran upstairs, you slipped but regained your footing.

'Everyone goes a little mad'. he was right about one thing, but you weren’t like her. you would never be like her.

you made your way upstairs successfully, your throat felt like it was being clogged with nothing but blood. there was nothing there though, Quinn must’ve got you good then.

"(Y/n), tara, I’m gonna need you both to go first. I’ll be right behind you." Sam said, you looked down at your bleeding stomach and kneeled down to the ground, clutching it.

Tara noticed, "hey, hey, what’s wrong?" she asked, her mascara sticking to her face from all the crying.

"I think- I think when we were running, Ethan hit me with something. I don’t know what it was but it’s hurting my body." you told her with a pained sob.

Tara checked you for any injures but noticed a growing bruise on your arm and neck, "Shit, I don’t know what he hit you with but you’ve got about two bruises. can you stand up or do you need help?" she asked.

"I can try to-" when you tried to move more pain erupted from your entire body, it felt like getting poked and prodded by tiny little needles every time you tired to stand.

You were only going to hold them up, "I can’t move. my arm feels like it’s falling asleep." you said, eyes getting droopy.

"No, no! (y/n) stay awake okay? Sam’s waiting for us." Tara said, you nodded and stood up anyways, regardless of it hurting.

"I see the needle helped, huh sweetheart? in about, 10 seconds you’ll be asleep real soon." Ethan spoke, looking up at you and tara with that crazed stare.

How did he even do that so quietly and quick? there’s no way he had a needle there too. but he did, somehow he was even more sneaky than before.

Your leg was now falling asleep, "what did you do? how—" before you could finish ethan cut you off.

"I used a paralysis drug to do that. I know, smart right?" he said with a laugh, all you did was close your eyes and continue to follow tara who had her hands wrapped around your waist to support you.

"I hate you!" you yelled, ethan only smiled, "And I love you too, pretty thing." he replied.

You started running, tara and sam were in front of you, detective bailey had his gun aimed at you, "Go easy on ‘em." Quinn said, referring to you who was running.

Without even noticing, your feet left the ground but before you could fall tara grabbed you by the wrist and so did sam, the both of them trying to haul you back up.

"No, no, don’t— he’s down there." You said, Quinn giggled and made her way upstairs, the blood from her mouth falling out of it, Detective Bailey went off somewhere else which you didn’t pay any mind to cause you were nearly on the brink of death.

It really wasn’t anymore use since you could feel your arm falling asleep after being injected with that drug. shit, you were running out of time.

"Let me go." you said, that was the only solution since there was nowhere else for you to go, "Come on now, don’t keep me waiting sweetheart." Ethan said, you winced at the sound of his voice.

The blood was making your hands slip out of their grasp, "We’re not gonna let you go, just—" you cut sam off.

"Just. let. go." you said, sounding more demanding this time. Tara grabbed something from out of her pocket and put it in your hands, you looked down at it and saw it was a knife.

Even though this whole situation was wrong and bodies were probably everywhere, but weird thing about it..you smiled.

This time you squeezed the knife that was in your hand, you weren’t even scared anymore.

You aren’t like her. of course you aren’t. but there was a resemblance of her inside of you. And that? that wasn’t going to change.

You smiled up at sam and tara, "Go." you told them, they both nodded and let your hand go.

You fell on top of ethan who caught you in his arms. weirdly he was strong for someone who was 'shy' all the time.

"Gotcha!" Ethan said, he wanted you all to himself, and now he got you where he wanted you. in his arms. no one else’s.

He placed a quick kiss to your lips which caught you off guard. you hurried and pulled away, "the fuck is wrong with you? Ethan I don’t know what you think, but I will never ever be with you. I will never be yours. find some other crazy psychotic bitch that’ll like you…" you said and got closer to him.

"Cause I’m not the motherfuckin' one." You said and dived the knife right inside his mouth, "You die a fucking virgin. or better: die just how your bitch of a brother did." you said and twisted the knife, ripping some of his vocal cords.

Blood fell from his mouth and onto the ground, his grip tightened on yours, you felt yourself smiling, a crazed one.

Then you removed the knife from his throat, Ethan fell to the ground with a thud. even though you didn’t want to hurt him or anyone else, what’s done had to be done. or else you’d still be running.

You looked down at your bloodied hands, then you looked over at the mirror, blood was covering your face as well.

Standing up you staggered a bit, hopefully the drug was out of your system by now.

Oh. Mandy. he didn’t make it…

You sobbed and covered your eyes, sitting on the ground and just crying to yourself.

"You stupid bitc—" before ethan could finish that sentence he was shot directly in the chest.

Wait, that wasn’t you-

"Pretty boys die first." said a familiar voice, you searched for the sound of whoever spoke and locked eyes with the person.

You turned around and saw that it was mandy. he was still alive.

"Mandy?" you said, getting to your feet you hurried and ran over to him, the both of you embracing each other tightly.

tears started falling from your eyes, you thought you’d never see him again.

"It’s okay, I’m okay." Mandy reassured, rubbing your back reassuring. Tara and Sam came downstairs and sighed in relief when mandy was in a good condition.

You and mandy pulled away, then turned to Tara and Sam, "c’mon, save some space for us." Tara said jokingly, but she and sam joined the hug.

Relief washed over you and then everything went dark.

———

It was now morning, the ambulance and police had arrived. Mandy and you sat at the edge of the ambulance, Chad was alright thankfully.

Even after all of this was over you still can’t get over how you looked while you had 'killed' ethan. Mandy finished off the job though, so there’d be no more problems for you both.

Hopefully all this would just be over and done with so you could go back to your normal lives. Mandy looked tired, like really tired.

"Where do we go after this?" you questioned, "hm, good question. I mean, we’ve been running for about a year now." Mandy replied.

"So we should stop running. if this happens again we just face it off. don’t trust anyone until we actually get to know them. so what do we do from now on?" You asked, holding Mandy’s hand.

"We trust no one." he answered, you nodded and leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling tired tried from everything.

"Love you, (Y/n)."

"I love you too, mandy."

The feeling of someone watching you didn’t leave after leaving the shrine. but you really didn’t care. all of this was over.

And there we go, the final part! or..is it? yes lol this is the last one. I just might make a scream fanfiction. so look out for that :D !!!

#xreader #ethan landry #scream vi #scream 6 #scream 6 x reader #scream #quinn bailey #detective bailey

189 notes · View notes

indy-gray · 9 months

Text

I done got frustrated

My desire to keep my opinions to myself managed to last most of the day. New record tbh.

So like I wrote this big long rant a couple of weeks ago and decided against sharing it while I was still frustrated. But I do feel like maybe there is a larger discussion to be had! I think it's important that we as a writeblr community really take a look at why so many of us are getting so frustrated so often and how we as a community and as individuals can work towards an actually community vs a corner of social media. @blind-the-winds did an excellent job of explaining some of what I'm seeing as well in relation to why a lot of positivity and support posts and such ring hollow to so many of us. I wanted to bring a slightly different perspective to things coming from a marketing/social media marketing background. Under the cut out of respect for everyone's dashboards lol

This is going to get INCREDIBLY LONG. So I have a read more here. Behold, the bitchfest.

So this started today when I was chatting with an irl friend and expressing my frustrations about writeblr in general as a community. And what I've recognized now is this: writeblr isn't really much of a community, and it is very rare to find other creators and writers who are willing to treat you (the hypothetical writer) as another human being with a love for the same craft they do. Those people who do treat you like people are some of the loveliest people I've found on the internet, but they are hard to find.

Now, to be clear, I don't think the problem is completely writeblr's fault, nor do I believe it is any one or two or five hundred individual's fault. The problem comes from a number of different sources, and my friend did a great job of helping me see the problem from a number of different perspectives.

The problem being this: it is impossible to get engagement on posts that feature original long-form writing, and it is exceedingly difficult to effectively foster meaningful connections with other writers.

Some disclaimers: it's not impossible, and the people who successfully receive engagement on their long-form writing tend to be the people who are the exceptions proving the rule. Also, by "engagement" I mean any interaction that serves to both consume the content and spread the content. "Original" writing refers to writing that is not fandom related, and "long-form" means 1k words or more.

Do you think 1k words is a little short for "long-form" writing? Me too. I'll get to that.

I'll start my explanation here with what catalyzed these revelations in my little head. Over night, I got quite a few new followers, all directly coming from a post that got mildly popular here on writeblr. So, I looked at what other posts of mine have been popular, and I started to notice a trend.

My most popular posts tend to fit into one of three categories: memes, tag games, and boost posts/recommendations. Memes tend to be popular because they're funny and easy to spread, and as long as they fit the theme, they don't ruin a blog's aesthetic. Tag games get more interaction because I am directly tagging people to see the post. But the popularity for those posts tend to stop at the half dozen to a dozen people tagged in each given post (the person or people tagging me, and the several people I tag to continue the game). The last category is most interesting to me, the boost posts and recommendations.

Here's the thing, I only boost or rec other writers and blogs if I have invested interest and care into the person behind the blog and their content. AKA, I only really boost friends and writers I admire/like their content. It's great to see that those posts get popular with people outside my circle, but out of those three categories, none of them feature my own content.

Why is that?

It seems like every day I see a new post with a few thousand notes at least complaining about a lack of interaction on writeblr and the importance of reblogs and blah blah I rarely stop to read those let alone spread them. And a few dots connected, I think.

If my content isn't getting interaction, and your content isn't getting interaction, then what is? And I think the answer is this: memes, advice, and boosts.

Memes and advice are self-explanatory. But boosts are interesting because you will see everyone hop on to rec other people or more frequently market themselves, but they stop there. And I see my greatest influx of interaction and new followers when I boost other people's works or blogs.

My conclusion is that many people are using writeblr as a hustle and not a community. In a community we engage with each other, talk to each other, enjoy each other's company. And I've found many mutuals to be very lovely people who I do enjoy and who I love to engage with and who I like to genuinely call my friends. I like a lot of yall for different reasons too! Some of you are great hype buddies, some of yall are all about that accountability buddy system, and I really love when I get to have intellectual conversations about the craft and different concepts with different members of writeblr too.

But largely, I find that a lot of people who engage once with my blog, usually on those boost posts, or who ask for engagement more frequently than when frustration strikes, tend to be the people who think of writeblr as a hustle. They see that I (and many other writers) will boost and rec our friends, and jump on that bandwagon, but instead of putting in the effort to get to know us and our work, they say what needs to be said, hop on trends, and avoid any genuine connection.

So what gives?

It's not the individual writers, I think. It's the nature of social media, marketing, and the medium.

Listen, I work in marketing, and long-form writing is a dying art that is very difficult to market. I genuinely think the concept of "tldr" really ruined a lot of people's ability to engage with longer form writing. Whether that be nonfiction opinion posts or actual fiction. Tumblr is one of the only places I can think of where long-form writing is a feasible medium to post at all, let alone gain a following for.

Think about it: instagram is best suited for images, videos, and short-form aestheticized poetry. Twitter has a character limit that requires long threads of individual tweets or images to get your message across. Pitch events are well-suited for twitter because your pitch by definition needs to be short. But sharing actual summaries, snippets, or excerpts? Not really possible. Tiktok is for videos, which as we know can be utilized, but is not the most efficient method of marketing written word. Ao3 is an archive with an excellent tagging system, but to get readers, outside marketing is required. Facebook requires a real name, and isn't really well suited for content creation either. Wattpad, Royal Road, and others are great for posting actual works, but they don't necessarily have well-functioning tag systems that help the author find their audience. That really just leaves Tumblr. Pillowfort is also an option, though it's still so in the beginning phase of development that it's pretty difficult to get started there.

It's well known in marketing that images and videos catch attention and long paragraphs of text (AKA what most prose looks like) tend to be scrolled past. The very nature of the long-form writing medium is against most marketing techniques. Marketing long-form writing needs to look different from any other medium.

All that being said: the culture of social media engagement has shifted, and this is a conversation that fandom has been having and I think has actually been doing well discussing the different facets of how the culture has shifted. Fandom (and content creation in general) is seen as a commodity to be consumed. Consumers want to see the content, maybe save it for later, and then move on to the next piece. This is easily done with visual mediums, but writing mediums are especially vulnerable to this culture shift because it does require so much time and energy to consume, let alone engage.

Creators don't see their work as a commodity to be consumed, but it is now. When consumers view a piece of visual media, they view the image (consume it) and then move to the next, some will spread it to others by engaging with the picture through reblogs or sending the post to someone else. But most often, there will be a "like" to tell the creator good job, and then scroll to the next. This is harder to do with written media unless one has the time and energy to read the piece. There's the extra step of critical thought.

To put it a different way, the market is flooded with content and creators. With so much to choose from, the consumer now does not have to participate in the community to ensure continued creation. There will be another creator tomorrow. The consumer no longer feels connected to a community of their interests, it is simply being sold to them.

So back to writeblr, this is where I am at a crossroads. I am tired of creating content to be consumed, I want community. But also, I have nowhere else to turn. I can either completely withdraw from what sliver of community I have found, or I can keep trucking along, create my stuff, play the games we play, chat with the people I do like and do care about, and hope that I don't get too frustrated one day and leave for good.

73 notes · View notes

ecogirl2759 · 5 months

Text

Cameo episode!

-NOTE-

All of these photos are from the Danganronpa 4コマ KINGS series. I do not own any of the drawings, but these photos are mine. All credit goes to Spike Chunsoft for the characters and the books themselves.

ANOTHER SIDE NOTE:

I'll be tagging all the characters who appear in this post, but not the games that some may be from. There are multiple characters in this post since there wasn't enough to separate them into their own.

Having said that, let's get right into the pictures!

(Long post again, though I think this one might be slightly shorter)

First up, Komaru Naegi!!

She appeared in a couple of comics, though not very often. Here are all the pictures I could find of her.

In the same vain, here's Makoto and Komaru's mom, Mrs. Naegi :D

For those who saw one of my first miscellaneous posts, you'll know Daiya is in here. Well, here's all of his pictures from the one comic he was in lol

ALSO, GOING WITH THE OWADA BROTHERS THEME, CHUCK IS HERE!!!

Kyoko's dad is here too! It's Principal Jin Kirigiri!

Idk why he looks like a teenager don't ask--

Does anyone remember Santa Shikiba, the Super High School Level Botanist? Me neither.

Bro I bet y'all forgot about Sakura's terminally ill boyfriend, Kenshiro / Kenichiro because I SURE AS HELL DID UNTIL NOW

Okay, here's a couple of weird ones....

Uh... Doraemon??!?

B-um... Blackened-kun? Blackened-chan? Blackened... person?

This isn't one of the characters, btw. This little fella is its own entity

MECHAMARU?!?!???!1??!!??!?!??!/1/1?/1!/1//.?>?>!>?!>?#?#>/2,,ml4

Guys, they.... they did the thing.... they made the funni

Lmao the pandemic was like:

~~~~~~~~~~~~

OKAY THE MINOR CHARACTERS PAGE ON THE DANGAN WIKI WAS DEFINITELY UPDATED

I HAD NO IDEA TORANOSUKE WAS THE ULTIMATE MANAGER AND I KNOW I READ THROUGH HIS WHOLE PAGE AT LEAST THREE TIMES BEFORE?????

I also had NO idea that Nekomaru was in here LOL. I was looking through the books, saw him and screamed :)

And yeah, I kinda forgot that some of these characters existed lol.

Ik the last two aren't really cameos, but I thought they were funny and wanted to share :)

Anywhosits, lemmie know who you want to see pictures of next!

Next up: Chihiro Fujisaki!

Contents || <-Previous : Next->

53 notes · View notes

just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

Note

Hey I wanted to ask you if you also write for the actor Tom Sturridge.

If so, could you write a Tom x british princess reader story in wich the princess is born the last child of Diana bevor she died and is a really fascinating person. Like she is very serious about er work and duty but is a really funny and sarcastic person outside of it and makes fun with the queen and her brothers.

Could you pleeeaaase write that for me my love?❤️

Wild Child

Tom Sturridge x Princess!Reader

Summary: There was a reason why you were called the wild child, and one particular man was going to find out for himself during his time volunteering at a nonprofit.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: British Princess!reader, reader is blonde cause duh her mom is princess Diana, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: this is such a wild request. peak delusion i think. and i am so here for it HAHAHH PLEASE I AM SO A PRINCESS AND DIANA IS, LIKE, MY MOM FR T_T I LOVE HER SM HAHAHAAH i just like i cant believe im writing this aHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH it's such a niche request HAHAAHAH idk why but writing about the royal family made me apprehensive lol HAHAHH IDK ITS SO CRINGY TO WRITE FOR ME TO ADD THEM so i decided forGET THEM IMMA DO A FREESTYLE I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT MY LOVE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR THE REQ IT WAS SO WILD AND FUN THAT I EVEN MADE THIS HEADER LOL ig im still tagging @pinksirensong because of course i must that was our deal

I spit out blonde strands of my hair when it flies into my mouth. I release a huff as I bend down and pick up a box from the pile which was unloaded from the truck. I then head back inside the place, watching my step as I went.

"Oh, my dear, you didn't have to!" one of the head organizers calls out to me from across the room, interrupting the instruction she was giving to the rest of the volunteers.

I shoot her a lopsided smile, "are you calling me weak, young lady?"

The grey haired woman named Berta laughs as I make my way to the back. She calls out, "not at all, princess!"

Berta, and the two people she had been instructing, watch me go to the back. One of the two whispers to the other, "ya know she's actually the princess, as in the literal princess of the country."

Gasp, "wait, really? I was gonna say she looks so much like the princess!"

"Yeah, she does cause she is the princess! She volunteers here often."

"Hush you two," Berta chides, "enough gossip!"

I release a breath and roll my shoulders back when I put the heavy box down. I take a moment to stretch and then head to the door to repeat the process. That was until someone walked in, grunting, carrying two boxes in their arms.

"Hey, you need some help there?" I say walking over.

I see blue eyes and dark hair peek from behind the brown object. I offer him a smile and move to get one of the boxes from him.

"It's alright, I've got it," he calls as I move to take one from him.

I give him a quick nod and instead watch him as he puts the boxes down.

When he straightens up, he huffs and turns to me, in time to see my smirk before I speak, "an impressive feat, considering the weight of those boxes, superman."

He catches his breath and returns my expression, exaggeratedly biting his lower lip as he grips one of his biceps, "these guns are no joke."

I snort and raise a hand, "lucky for me, I know how to disassemble artillery."

He pulls his head back, lips still curved up into a smile, "wait, really?"

I nod with a brow quirked, "quicker than you can say Worcestershire."

We share a chuckle because of my words. I then extend my hand to him, saying my name in introduction. He obliges, taking my hand, telling me his name is Tom.

"Do you volunteer here often?" he asks after we withdrawing hands.

I hum and narrow my eyes, "I'd say alternatively would be more appropriate."

"Ah."

"And you?"

"I think, is the third time I've come back here."

I nod, motioning to the door, silently leading us out. I turn to him as I say a quick thank you when opens the door, "is there any particular reason you've come back?"

"Honestly, the people here are kind and I've grown to love the company of the elderly chaps I've met."

I match the smile on his face as we make our way outside to get the rest of the boxes. "Yeah, I'd say the same reasons have drawn me back to this place as well."

"Oh, good," someone calls just before we could exit, making Tom and I turn to the speaker. It was Berta, "you're both here. We need help giving the seniors grub. I'd love it if both my prettiest volunteers gave out the food so they wouldn't be so cranky."

Tom and I chuckle, catching each other's gaze along the way.

"Come on, lovies," she beckons, waving her hands, "I've got enough people on the job for the boxes."

When she walks off, I turn to Tom, who raises a hand, "after you."

I give him a nod and a soft smile as I trail after Berta.

Once we get to the cafeteria, it was apparent they really did need help giving out food, for not only were there many old ladies and gentlemen queued up impatiently, there were very apparent individuals giving the poor youth volunteers a hard time over the food.

Berta gives an exasperated gasp.

I place a hand on her shoulder as I watch the scene that was stressing her out, "I've got it," I mutter, walking over to the elderly gentleman and the young lady he was scolding.

Berta watches the scene play out, as does Tom behind her. Tom cannot help but chuckle at the exaggerated expressions and the big smile that replaces the loud remarks that was being thrown.

Berta lets out a sigh as he watched the periodically difficult man walk off happily, "that girl is truly a gem."

Tom nods, humming softly.

"Come along now, love, the food is not going to serve itself."

After disarming the intense argument, I release a sigh and find my way to the food stall, smiling at Tom who was there, blushing at the compliments the elderly ladies were giving him.

"Quite a popular fellow, aren't you," I tease, coming up to his side, as I ask the next person in line what they wanted to eat.

Tom smiles at the lady that tells him he's got gorgeous blue eyes. I chuckle to myself upon hearing it. He turns to me as he grabs an empty plate, "not nearly as popular as you though. You're clearly a fan favorite. Everyone has been asking me about you."

"Hmm, and what have you been saying?"

His lips curve, "that I have but only met the princess today myself, but I am sure she is as brilliant as they have been describing."

I playfully roll my eyes at him, just as a woman greets me by name and title. I match her small curtsy with a nod, as she then begins to trail off about how much she loved my mother, "I remember watching her wedding in '81. Oh, the princess was such a beauty, and you my dear, are the spitting image of her."

I offer her a smile, "that is truly such a compliment. I do try to be more like her everyday."

She sighs, "such a shame. She was gone too soon."

I nod, "yes. Yes, she was."

After that conversation, I the air between Tom and I became a bit rigid. I couldn't blame him. The topic usually elicits that type of reaction. I work on breaking the ice then.

"Tell me, Tom," I say, once we served the last of the people in line. I lean on the food cart as I turn to the taller man.

He nods and peers down on me, brushing off his sleeves along the way.

"Are you one of the very few people on earth that don't like Princess Diana?"

He chokes on his spit.

I snort, "I mean," I raise my hand in surrender, "I do recall how she kept me from eating chocolates to my hearts content, and I say, I still have a bit of resentment in me over that, even after all these years."

Tom breaks into a fit of laughs. It is enough to break his tension.

I join him with much softer laughter before adding, "or perhaps you're just upset you didn't manage to snag a roll in one of the many biographical shows about my family being produced."

Tom snorts again, pressing his lips tightly.

"I have the ladies over there to thank for the information of you being an actor," I tilt my head to the right.

He gathers himself and allows his chuckles to die down a little before continuing. Tom withholds his laughter as he jokes, "I'm actually rather upset over the fact you haven't seen my work."

I match his sarcastic expression with a sigh, "unfortunately, my time watching on the telly is quite limited. I don't have room for bad acting."

Tom hollers, gripping his chest as he throws his head back in laughter, "ok, now that hurts!"

I shrug, pouting as I pat his shoulder, "the truth hurts."

Before Tom could rebut, I hear my name get called by a woman. I pull away from Tom and spot Lizzie. She was, quite frankly, my biggest fan in the place. I wave to her as she does me. Soon enough, she is beckoning me over.

I nod as I smile at her, turning to Tom after, "duty calls."

"I'll be here waiting," he offers, "you've got this, your grace."

I raise a brow at him as I walk off, "it's your royal highness to you."

#tom sturridge #tom sturridge fanfic #tom sturridge fluff #tom sturridge fanfiction #the sandman fanfic #royalty au #princess fanfic #dream of the endless fanfic #rpf fanfic #the sandman fluff #dream of the endless fluff #tom sturridge x reader #tom sturridge x princess!reader #tom sturridge x british royal!reader

168 notes · View notes