#I mean. she HAS a name! but it sucks and it’s corny as hell and everyone else’s fit a lot better | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yourcooladdiction · 3 years

Text

show me | bucky barnes

a/n: hi! this is my first attempt at writing bucky so please be kind :) enjoy!

summary: jealous bucky leads to a furious reader... but he knows just how to make it up to her.

pairings: bucky barnes x female reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY!! (smut; fingering, oral, unprotected sex), jealous bucky, angsty, fluff...ish, curse words

The faint glow of the dashboard allowed you to make out his white knuckles as he clutched the steering wheel. He was angry. But you were furious. He pulled into the parking garage of the compound and as soon as the car was parked you stormed inside the building. You were angry that you agreed to stay the night and had no means of escape, you practically lived here anyways but situations like this reminded you why you two haven’t officially moved in together.

The elevator ride is silent. You keep your eyes focused straight ahead as you feel his tension slowly fading. He attempts to reach at you when the doors open and you make a beeline to his room.

“Doll, will please you talk to me?” he finally speaks as he follows you into the bedroom.

“I have nothing to say.” You shrug your shoulders and then attempt to unzip the back of your dress, refusing to look at him.

“How the fuck are you mad at me? Seriously, Y/N?” He raises his voice, as if he has the right to yell at you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You punched a guy I work with in the face. You literally punched him, in the face, and you want to yell at me? Get a fucking grip, Bucky!” You spin around and match his angry tone.

He steps back. You never yell. Never. Even when you two fight, which is rare in itself, you never yell. He quickly gathers that you must be really fucking pissed. He loosens the bow-tie around his neck and runs his hand through his hair. He knows he fucked up, he knows you’re fucking furious and you have every right…he did punch a guy you work with, but he doesn’t regret it.

You glare him up and down, fuck, you hated how sexy he looked right now. Black suit and bow-tie is one of your favorite looks on him, hence why you were so excited to bring him to your work gala. You watch as he loosens the bow tie and you catch yourself internally groan, you wanted to do that. You wanted this night to end with him fucking you senselessly, but no. He had to act possessive and idiotic and immature. You usually enjoy when he gets jealous, it makes you feel good about yourself but something about tonight just made him snap.

“He was eye-fucking you all night. What the hell am I supposed to do? Just stand by?” He asks.

“I know that, you don’t I didn’t notice that? Why the fuck do you think I was being extra-clingy and practically glued to your side all night?”

He doesn’t answer, instead he just looks down in defeat. He knows better than to fight with you on this. You were completely right.

“For fuck’s sake, Buck, you are all I ever talk about, everyone knows we are together. You should’ve just ignored him.”

“Well, I just wanted him to understand who you were with.” He clears his throat.

“I think he got the fucking hint.” You scoff and turn around, attempting to unzip your dress once more.

You hear Bucky slowly walk up behind you and his hand meets yours as you find the zipper, stopping your movements. You sigh as his other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you back into him. He pushes your hair to the other side of your shoulder opening up your neck to him. His hot breath hits your neck and your knees go weak.

“I’m sorry, baby doll.” He whispers, his lips barely touching your earlobe.

You bite down on your lip, trying to conceal any sound of enjoyment that may slip through. You are mad and you don’t want him to think he can just apologize and everything will be okay. You tell yourself to remain strong. Make him learn his lesson. He leans down and kisses your exposed neck, leaving a trail of kisses. Your eyes flutter shut, this is going to be harder than you thought.

“Doll” he says, “please,” between, “forgive me,” kisses.

You involuntarily roll your head to the side more, giving him more access. His hand that was wrapped around your hip slides up and gently squeezes one of your breasts. You moan immediately. Fuck.

“There she is,”

You can feel his snarky smirk against your skin and you take your elbow and jam it back into him.

“Ouch!” He says as your force takes him back.

“You don’t get to give a weak ass apology and call me baby girl and expect me to melt for you. Think again, Barnes.” You roll your eyes and take off towards the bathroom.

Oh, playing hard to get are we? Bucky loved a challenge, especially if you were the prize. He quickly followed you into the bathroom and stopped dead in his tracks. You had already slipped out of your dress and you were wearing a new set. Red lace. His favorite.

“Jesus, fucking — shit, “ he whispers.

You spin around and smile at him.

“Do you like? I was hoping to surprise you and us have insanely rough sex tonight but you had to act like an idiot, so —“

Within seconds he has you pushed against the bathroom wall. His hands gripped around your waist, so close you have no way of getting away from him.

“Doll, please, I am so sorry. Please. Let me make it up to you, please.” He begs, his lips go back to your neck as he kisses and sucks gently. Knowing you will eventually give into him.

“You look so fuckin’ sexy, please. God please let me make it up to you.” He asks once more.

He pulls away and looks into your eyes and you could tell he was genuinely sorry, but you weren’t going to give in so easily. He was going to make it up to you just like he said.

“Show me how sorry you are then,” you whisper.

You barely get the words out when his lips are on yours. Fighting for dominance. He slips his tongue out over your bottom lip, gently taking it between his teeth, pulling a delicious sounding moan from your mouth.

“Fuck, doll, do you know what you do to me?”

“Show me.” You repeat your words once more.

His hands wrap around your thighs and lifts you with ease. You wrap your legs around him and feel just how hard you make him. This turns you on even more and it’s almost embarrassing how wet you are. You grind your hips into him as he pushes you further into the wall and he gets the hint that you want this taken back to the bedroom. He caries you to the bed and throws you down, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and pulling at his belt buckle. You squeeze your thighs together as you hear the metal of his belt clink, you hated how much you wanted him right now, but you couldn’t help it. He was so fucking hot. Especially when he begged for you. You knew he was going to make it up to you, you knew he was going to fuck you so good.

“I’m not going to fuck you.” His voice a low growl, you start to wonder if you said your thoughts out loud.

He climbs over top of you and the look on his face, the lust in his eyes, you attempt to take a mental picture to savor this moment forever.

“I’m going to make love to you,” he smirks.

You can’t help but chuckle. For such a suave and sophisticated guy, he can be quite fucking corny.

“You’re an idiot.” You say.

“Yeah, but you love me.”

Before you can combat his lips are on you. Working there way from your lips to your neck. As he sucks purple marks into your skin, he quickly unclasps your bra, and throws it to the side.

“Hot damn, I hit the jackpot with you, huh?” He says as he licks his lips.

You blush and attempt to cover your face and he pulls your hands away.

“Stop.” He demands.

He looks at you again with that lustful look and you swear this man will be the death of you. He returns to his job of pleasing you by taking a nipple in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around your nub and your back arches off the bed.

“Fuck, Bucky.” You groan.

He continues working his mouth on one as his massages the other, alternating every few seconds. He loved all the sounds he was pulling from you but he knew where you needed him most. He trails kisses down your stomach and you instinctively open your legs. He chuckles at how eager you are, slowly kissing your thighs, until he was right at your sweet spot. He kisses your clit through your lace panties and your back arches once more.

“Buck, stop being a fucking tease!” you lean up on your elbows, sternly looking at him. He was supposed to be making up to you, not teasing.

“Impatient are we?” He furrows an eyebrow at you.

Before you could speak he pulls your underwear to the slide and begins massaging your clit with his meta thumb. The coolness sending pleasant waves of pleasure through your body.

“You — fuck!” You moan, head falling back against the pillow.

“Relax, baby doll, I’m going to take care of you.”

He hooked his fingers on both sides of your underwear and pulled them down slowly, making sure to tease you more.

Your fists grabbed at the sheets as his tongue laps up your wet. He gently sucks on your clit as he grips your thighs spreading them further apart.

“Doll, you’re so wet for me, you taste so damn good.” He purred as you moan his name again and again.

He continues licking through your folds and slips two fingers inside of you. He moans into you and you almost cum at just his sound. You feel your orgasm quickly approach as he continues to lick and suck your clit while pumping his two fingers in and out of you.

“I’m — close,” you quiver

“Let go, baby, come on,” he encourages

It only takes a few more swipes of his tongue before you come undone. You scream out his name as he continues to pump his fingers in and out, taking all you give him.

“I got you, doll. I got you. So fucking good.” He continues lapping up your juices.

As you come down from your high you look down to see his lips glistening with your juices. He gives you a devilish smirk as he climbs back on top of you, kissing up your body until he meets your lips.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I love you more, now give me your cock.”

“Yes ma’am,” he agrees as he quickly sits up and off his boxers.

He aligns himself with your entrance and slowly pushes in.

“Fuck” you both groan in unison.

Your legs wrap around him as he fills you up and stretches you out. You whine and whimper quietly in his ear while he slowly fucks you. He pushes deeper inside of you, hitting spots he’s never hit before.

“B-buck, baby, faster —“ you beg

He listens to your demand as he thrusts his hips into you.

“Shit doll, you feel so fucking good.” He breathily moans into your ear as he rocks his hips against yours.

Your mind becomes foggy as your stomach coils. You’re so close, again. You wrap your hands around his shoulders to give yourself something to hold on to.

“Buck —“ you moan as he strokes your walls with his thick member.

“I know baby girl, I’m right there. Come for me.” He whispers into your ear.

He chants your name in husky moans as he continues his thrusts, speeding up to give you both the release you’re aching for.

You come with a loud whimper of his name and he kisses you harshly as his release is quick to follow. His head falls into the crook of your neck as you both slowly come down from your orgasms.

“You okay, doll?” He whispers, kissing your neck softly.

“Yes,” you answer quietly.

He pulls away and smiles down at you. He loved you, god did he love you. He knew he was such an idiot earlier. He knew better than to act like such a jealous prick, but he couldn’t help it. You were his girl. He loved you and only you. He wanted you to himself, forever.

“You’re forgiven,” you say with a sweet smile.

He laughs and places a soft kiss on your lips.

“I’m sorry I was such an idiot.”

“It’s okay, Buck. You’re just a jealous little bitch.” You grin.

“You’re not wrong, what’s mine is mine.” He winks as you roll your eyes.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me? You must be ready for me to fuck you now,” He growls before capturing your lips once more.

This was going to be a long night.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes one shot #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic

110 notes · View notes

that-bi-bitch-writes · 3 years

Text

A Cursed Reality-JJK x M!Reader (Ch.2)

Question: Do you guys prefer longer chapters or shorter chapters? I’ve been making an effort to write longer chapters but if you hate reading them I’ll write them less.

Warnings: fluff, comparison of Inumaki’s speech to a disability/handicap, cursing. Dislike of Maki (Not me. wrong bitch. I love her)

Previous || Next

Chapter Two:

[Name] actively dislikes hanging out with the second years. Not that they’re bad people in any way, it’s just he’s anxious and awkward, and even after spending a year familiarizing himself with the school and the people in it, there’s like a small group of people he would invite to his birthday party.

That and he just doesn’t care for Maki Zen’in. And it is most definitely mutual. To him, she’s just pretty. She also won’t die in a battle between her and a curse below first grade. But that’s about the end of her appeal. Of course, Panda is fun to tease but he typically plays the peacemaker between the second years. [Name] would rather not care about people in peace.

There’s no dramatic reason to it all, it’s just [Name] didn’t really come to Jujutsu Tech by choice so he hadn’t intended on making friends. He obviously failed considering he befriended Inumaki within his first day and they have some homoromantic vibes going on in their friendship.

That’s not to say you can’t platonic cuddle with your best friend but when you longingly gaze into each other’s eyes and he’s the only friend you’ve made besides an annoyingly hyper 30-year-old because no one else understands you like he does… And it kind of goes both ways considering you’re the only person he trusts himself enough to have a full-on conversation with.

Yeah, it’s not looking very good for the argument that they’re not gay. They’re not though. At least not now.

“[Name]”

“Yeah toge?”

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind” Inumaki responded. And although he had plenty of experience saying words, having a conversation without using safe words felt a little weird. It was an aspect of who he was now and [Name] being immune to the cursed speech wouldn’t erase the problems he had with talking and it didn’t make [Name] his savior or soulmate.

Luckily [Name] was both lonely and not a complete asshole because he had no problems adapting to the switch between Toge’s ‘onigiri glossary’. Learning it was actually a really fun experience because it turns out Inumaki did not have the exact translation of all his safe words. He would just say an ingredient and [Name] had to fill in the blanks. There was a lot of trial and error and a lot of [Name] smiling down at Inumaki’s concentrated face.

“I was just thinking.” [Name] broke the contemplative silence.

“Hmm”

“You know” [Name] started again “... They say it was believed people kept their souls in their throats” and as Inumaki gave a confused denial (“fish flakes”) [Name] was internally panicking on whether or not he should keep going with this specific train of thought or make a joke to deflect from the very real and emotional but corny statement he was about to utter.

“Ah fuck it. I want to exercise the curses in the world or at least enough to keep you safe so you don’t keep damaging your soul when you use your cursed technique”

“Sujiko”

[Name] looked at Inumaki. And as if breaking off pieces of his soul didn’t matter to him, Inumaki spoke, a short sentence that stunned [Name] into silence

“I love you”

If Gojo hadn’t come in, they might’ve kissed.

“[Name]-kun!!!”

Aaaand [Name]’s sentimental mood was gone. Don’t get him wrong, Gojo definitely would get an invite to [Name]’s birthday party, but the man was like 30 running around being overly cheerful and with that teasing nature he was definitely repressing some trauma. He also definitely had some of the worst timing

“What is it Gojo?”

“No sensei at the end? So mean!

“Fushiguro was sent out to find a cursed object but he’s been out all day with no calls back home or anything. Of course I plan on going to check on my beloved student, but I am busy for the next hour or so. Can you please check on him? For your favorite sensei?”

“My favorite sensei is actually Nanami and he’s not even a sensei but yeah I’ll check on the emo kid”

‘You’re pretty emo yourself dude’ Gojo thought to himself

“Ah Thank you [Name]-kun. You’re a lifesaver” Gojo called out behind him as he left to do whatever it is crazy white haired ‘old’ men do.

‘He’s/I’m totally not doing this for free’ both [Name] and Inumaki thought at the same time.

[Name] got up suddenly and started getting ready to leave paying no attention to Inumaki who watched him get ready with a casual interest. Before [Name] headed out, he turned to look at Inumaki with a serious and concentrated expression.

“Toge.”

“I love you”

“What the hell happened here?”

“....”

“Fushiguro-kun, if you please”

“Well I only know half of the story so it’s best if we hear it from Itadori”

All eyes whipped to the shirtless Yuji who had just gotten control of his body back from Sukuna, the apparent king of curses.

“I’d say it started when I went to school this morning but I think it started a little earlier for Fushiguro. Right Fushiguro?” Yuji asked

‘I swear I’m going to explode if someone doesn’t tell me the how we got this far I mean Fushiguro is bleeding from his head, this pink haired enthusiastic kid is possessed and I can’t tell if he’s too sweet to care or if he lost a few of his brain cells when he and the little emo first year wrecked this building’ [Name] thought to himself.

Clearing his throat he began “Well okay Fushiguro has a lot of really bad injuries so is it okay with you if he just quickly shares his part and then you take over?”

“Ohh Yeah that makes sense” Itadori awed and both he and [Name] turned their attention to poor Megumi who was bleeding from his forehead.

“Yesterday I was sent to retrieve a special grade cursed object and when I got there it was gone. Gojo sensei told me I couldn’t go home until it was recovered. The next day I stalked around the school and investigated when I saw Yuji for the first time.”

“Oh I remember that. It’s my turn to take over now. Uhh. I was in the occult club with my senpais Sasaki and Iguchi and we were asking the spirits about which animal the Student Council President was weaker than ( a fish) and then he burst in the room because he didn’t approve of our club-”

“Fast forward please” [Name] interrupted

“Fushiguro found me after my grandpa died and told me Iguchi and Sasaki were in danger because of the finger so I led him to the school where they said they were going to peel off the seal”

“And that’s why we’re here” [Name] surmised

“So what’s the situation”

“Gojo-sensei”/ “Old Man what are you doing here?” Megumi and [Name] called out

“I wasn’t gonna come but the higher ups got involved. I knew you’d all be fine though, I sent [Name] here to deal with it.”

“That’s true” Fushiguo mumbled

“I’m glad you all have faith in me” [Name] started “But that means I came here for absolutely nothing”

“... So did you find it?” Gojo asked

“Um sorry.... I ate it”

Gojo who didn’t hear the whole introduction and [Name] who didn’t quite get to the eating of the finger part in the story turned to Yuji in shock

“For real”

“Haha you’re not kidding. They’re combined. How does your body feel?” Gojo asked Yuji

“Okay”

“Can you switch to Sukuna?”

“Sukuna?” Yuji asked

“The curse object you ate”

“Oh yeah. Probably”

“Ten seconds” gojo said “Take control again after ten seconds”

“I dunno about this”

“Don’t worry. I’m the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer”

Megumi looked to [Name] after hearing a curious “hmm” but [Name]’s face showed no anger or displeasure.

“Megumi hold onto this will ya” Gojo’s voice bled through Megumi’s thoughts of who would win between [Name] and Gojo. Give it a year or two and it might actually be [Name].

“What’s this?” Megumi asked

‘It better be a fucking weapon’ [Name] thought ‘Because if he sent me out because his important business was shopping he’s gonna regret it’

“Kikufuku Mochi” Gojo replied casually before feeling bloodlust leaking from [Name]. He’ll just have to make it up to the second year somehow

“Behind you” Fushiguro called out and [Name] sucked his teeth hoping Gojo would get hit at least once. He did not get his wish once

“I’ve got a student watching so..I hope you don’t mind if I show off a little bit” . And after that Gojo commenced kicking Sukuna’s ass. Sukuna tried to monologue a little as he sent out a powerful attack, but he missed Gojo on account of Gojo’s infinity dispelling the attack. By the time Sukuna realized Gojo was unharmed it was time for Yuji to switch back.

“Oh was everything okay?” Yuji asked as he came to his senses.

“Oh what a surprise” Gojo responded “You really can control it”

“Yeah, but he’s kind of annoying”

“It’s a miracle that’s the only side effect” Gojo said right before knocking Yuji out with one finger

“If he wakes up and isn't possessed, he might have potential as a vessel. Okay question for you two. What do I do with him?”

“Even if he is a potential vessel… He must be executed under jujutsu regulations…

“But I don’t want to let him die”

“Is that a personal opinion? Gojo asked

“Yes, a personal opinion. Please do something about it.

Gojo smiled and the two of them turned their attention towards [Name] who had been silent throughout the whole experience.

‘Besides being a little too excitable, he’s not bad. Like a puppy. I’d keep him as a pet.’ [Name] thought

“Don’t kill him” he said

“A precious student's request. And one from my favorite second year? Of course. Leave it to me!” Gojo said before lifting Yuji up.

[Name] still a little upset he was called away for nothing, raised his hand in front of his mouth so gojo couldn’t see what he was doing and whispered

“Fall over”

“Aak! [Name]-kunnn”

Fushiguro was shocked to see Gojo faceplant on the ground with Yuji on his shoulder. If the combination of Fushiguro’s wide eyed expression and the sight of Gojo in pain made [Name] giggle a little, he’d never admit it.

#x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #x reader #reader insert #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #m!reader #male!reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #that-bi-bitch-writes #a cursed reality

186 notes · View notes

jangmi-latte · 4 years

Text

overview:

both choices has different progressions. proceed with your decision and i’ll see you on the other side. you will be welcomed by another door at the end. no choices, just proceed carefully..

𝐓𝐰𝐨 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲

...

The moment he grazed his lips against your ear, you weren’t even able to comprehend what happened next. As if on instinct, you swing your fist behind, nearly hitting him if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s a vampire. He effortlessly dodged your attack and swiftly grabbed your wrist, pulling the other behind you and slamming you against a tree. The pain of having your skin scrape against the trunk made you whimper.

What a bad idea it was to even think about attacking a vampire when it was also a vampire you explicitly told you not to even think about attacking one. Where have Charmaine’s teachings gone? Let alone, where has your common sense gone to?

“Feisty.” He chuckled. It wasn’t a good chuckle at that. It was mocking you. He was making fun of your ill attempts of even trying to hurt him. A mere mortal going against a pureblood. “This is the first time I’ve encountered a mortal even trying to attaque [attack] a pureblood. How tough of you. You’re just fueling the fire in my body, mon chou!”

“How do you even know my name? You already said it — stop calling me mon chou!” you protested, only to wince when he tightened his grip on your wrists. You could feel your blood cutting off from getting into your hands as they began to feel cold and prickle.

You were going numb and you couldn’t feel your hands anymore. Your pain was entertainment in his eyes. y/n, are you going to be tough and keep on mocking him or submit?

“I know a lot about you, y/n. But let me ask you one thing. I can’t let Roi du Poisons get harmed just because of your futile attacks. Tell me, amica mea, are you going to behave?” he hummed before pushing you further against the trunk. Your lips opened to let out a small scream of pain the further your skin scratched against the sharp wood. Goosebumps crawled up your body as you whimpered.

His lips pressed against your neck, threatening to pierce his fangs deep into your skin, he smirked. “Or do I have to discipline you?”

“D-Don’t bite me!” you screamed, heart palpitating and breathing escalating. How could you go against a vampire at this point? You weren’t certain whether you would make it out alive or not. You couldn’t be content with the fact they wouldn’t kill you. They’re unpredictable creatures.

He hummed, vibrations felt on your skin, feeling him take in your scent. “Don’t worry… I wouldn’t bite you just yet.”

You wanted to talk back so badly. You wanted to prove to him you aren’t a weak human. Yet, your quivering body has given enough signs to him. You gulped, feeling him lessen the pressure on your head. Your skin was scratched and wounded, however, it was a good sign there wasn't any blood that prickled out of the wounds.

“Sir Hunt.”

The vampire has dropped his hand from your head, still keeping a tight grip around your wrists. “Oh? What brings you here?”

“Dinner for the guest has been prepared. His Highness Schoenheit is waiting for you to bring them in. He added that it’s best for you to hurry up.”

You couldn’t see who was talking but you kept a quick note on what his voice sounds like. It was deep and old. You would think it was an old butler of the household. You didn’t care, what you wanted was to be away from this man’s hands and somewhere safer even if the home itself did not resonate with any safety.

And Sir Hunt…

Fuck.

“I see he’s in a bad mood once again. Worry not, Lumiere, I’m on my way,” commented Hunt as he pulled you away and made you face the mansion. “Now now, y/n, just like what I told you. Do not make any attempts to hurt Roi du Poison. I won’t be gentle next time even when you make a faulty attempt on planning to hurt him.” His voice sounded bittersweet, making fear eat away your confidence and silence your mouth.

“Am I understood?” he growled in your ear, surprising you as your breath hitched. How could his demeanour change so quickly, you wonder. Truly an unpredictable creature. You best wish not to mess with this man any longer. You wish not to evade any space near him. Find your circle, find your safe spot in a house full of monsters.

“Yes,” you choked out before he smiled once more. “Now then, let’s head inside and clean you up. You have to look your meilleur absolu [absolute best] when facing Roi du Poison!”

And towards the mansion you were dragged with hands being held behind your back by no other than Sir Rook Hunt.

You failed to give a good impression and now you are to be watched by residents of the mansion.

Proceed to Chapter Three, Door One

...

“I-I’m not delicious for you to d-devour so you can let me go!”

You yelled, absolute bullshit if one would think, followed by a nervous chuckle. Are you going to lie when you say you’re not delicious? Maybe. You were sweating, who would want to have a sour taste of a bite should a vampire want to bite you, right? Absolutely disgusting.

You gulped and looked down at the grip he had around your waist. Neither tight nor lose was his grip. Easy to escape but not entirely good nor safe for you to go and run. Still dangerous to play with these creatures of the night. He stayed oddly quiet after you yelled that. It was scarily nerve-wracking.

“Can you please let me go—”

“Tres bien!” he laughed, his hand lifting up to cover his eyes as he continued his tremendous laughter. The arm around your waist had dropped for him to clutch his stomach. Amused is he to hear a corny remark from you. Humans are entertainments to them and you were no exception. You faced him in surprise, confused to see a vampire laugh at a statement you blurted out of nowhere. Should you be thankful you escaped whatever the hell he planned to do to you or worried that he’s just being sarcastic?

Elusive bastard.

“My my, mon chou. Quite an impressive way to hear something so merdique from a mortal!” he howled as he looked back at you. His hat shadowed the upper half of his face yet that didn’t stop from his sharp, narrow, glowing green eyes to narrow at you. His smirk was alluringly lethal to look at. Pearly white fangs prodding from his lips made your blood run cold as you pressed your back against the carriage door. How are you to respond to his statement?

The fuck does merdique mean?

You sucked in your bottom lip, eyes staying glued at him wearily. You spoke, “S-So…” you began and hesitantly glanced over at the mansion before continuing, “Are you to guide me to the mansion or—”

“Not just yet, y/n.”

You snapped your head back to look over to him. He had his arms crossed as you watched his eyes scan you from top to bottom. You were clearly uncomfortable, very uncomfortable, under his steady stare. Observing you, was he? He tugged you away from the carriage, face moving closer to yours as you squeaked in surprise. “H-Hey!” you instinctively yelled before he placed his finger on your lips.

“Raspberries...wood...angel’s breath...hollyhock…”

“Huh?” He was mumbling to himself. This man couldn’t confuse you any further, now could he? “You were indeed under Charmaine Loiselle’s care…”

“What?” you questioned again. “Didn’t she tell you anything? Or maybe… I don’t know…” You fiddled with your fingers as he took a step back. His lips stretched in a small smile as he said, “I don’t trust that woman.”

“Why?”

“Ah! Too many questions, mon chou. Come now. Let’s not make Roi du Poison wait.” He placed a hand on your back before guiding you over to the mansion. “But do be aware that you should keep your hands to yourself, y/n. We wouldn’t want anyone hurt…” The way he said it made your mind spin into a valley of questions. Too talkative are thee if you were to ask. He was suspicious to your eye and you were no different to his. What is his motive, you wonder?

“Rook…” someone called from the doors of the manor, “I was just about to head out and call you... Vil’s getting impatient…”

You eventually got on Sir Hunt’s good side. But who is the one at the door…?

Proceed to Chapter Three, Door Two

@panacea-wishes @mydriases @collarjessie @twsted-caramel @softforriddlerosebaby @athaliesworld @raven-at-the-writing-desk @soukoku-trash-fanfictrashtoo @kingy-o @trashy-mctrash @peachykindalovesyou @goldenagedfollies @vivianvivvia @usagiairabokerdole

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst #pomefiore #pomefiore x reader #twisted wonderland scenarios #vil schoenheit #epel felmier #rook hunt #vil schoenheit x reader #epel felmier x reader #rook hunt x reader #jangmi latte: amica mea #chii 1k special #choose your own route

222 notes · View notes

deancaskiss · 3 years

Text

Chapter Twenty-Four (Tinsel and Tourists)

Word Count: 1,918 (another super long chapter, I just can’t stop myself. Chapter continued under the Read More)

Cas’ POV

Link to ao3 / Link to masterpost

When the doorbell rang on Christmas morning, Libby was up and out of her seat in record time. “I’ve got it!” she yelled, darting across Cas’ living room and throwing open the front door. “Sam!”

“Hey there Libby,” Cas heard Sam say, and as Cas stepped out into the hall he saw the taller man wrapping his best friend in a hug.

“Somehow I feel like I’m being replaced in the best friend department,” Cas fake sighed, before cracking out into a smile.

“Oh, please,” Libby said, rolling her eyes. “Not like you aren’t enjoying someone else’s company right now.”

As if on cue, Dean stepped into the house past Libby and Sam, and his eyes instantly found Cas. The second he saw Cas, Dean beamed, eyes lighting up and a loved-up look crossing his face. “Hey handsome,” Dean said softly, pulling Cas in by the waist and sneaking a hand up the back of his shirt. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas indeed,” Cas said with a laugh, rubbing his nose against Dean’s. His boyfriend. God. How was any of this even real? Cas leaned forward, sliding their lips together and humming a pleased sound against Dean’s mouth when Dean deepened the kiss. When they broke apart, Cas whispered a quiet, “Hi beautiful.”

“Gross. Can you guys not make out in front of us?” Libby teased, grabbing the bottle of wine from Sam’s hand and moving into the kitchen.

“Oh, no, we’re definitely going to continue to make out and make you be witness to it,” Dean replied, yanking Cas impossibly closer and kissing him again, slow and deep. Breaking the kiss, Dean nuzzled along Cas’ cheek. “I um- brought you something,” Dean murmured.

“I got you something, too,” Cas replied, sliding his hand into Dean’s and tugging him gently towards the Christmas tree in the living room. Cas reached under the tree, grabbing a silver present and handing it to Dean.

Dean made a little noise of surprise. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said, a tinge of red climbing up his cheeks.

“Shut up and open it,” Cas said, chewing on his lip as the nerves licked up inside his stomach. Was the gift too serious? Was it not serious enough? What did you buy your boyfriend of two days when you were already madly in love with him?

Dean slowly opened the box, untying the ribbon and reaching out to perch the bow on top of Cas’ head. “You know, regardless of what’s in here, you really are my present this year.” Cas made a face at the corniness, and Dean laughed, pulling Cas in and pecking him on the mouth. “I know it’s cliche, but I’m serious. I said it a few days ago, and I meant it. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Castiel Novak.”

Cas felt like his heart was exploding; as if every single molecule in his body was vibrating with his love for Dean. “Love you. So much.”

Dean beamed at him again, and God, yep, Cas really and truly was so in love it ached deep in his bones.

Pulling off the lid, Dean peered inside, and his smile went from beaming to blinding. “Is that ice skates?” Dean asked, pulling the white skates out of the box.

Cas flushed dark red, nodding nervously. “I thought we could go again. Just us. I um- had them personalized with the date of our date on them. Because it was uh- the day I fell for you. Literally and metaphorically.”

“Cas,” Dean said, choking on the word.

“When we were on the ice together, before I physically fell on the ice with you… when we were skating around the edge and we were just talking and you held my hand… I fell for you. I mean, I knew I was falling before. I was head over heels for you before you even kissed me. But it was on that date when we kissed on the ice… I knew I wasn’t just falling anymore. I knew I was devastatingly in love with you. That there was no turning back. You had my heart,” Cas said quietly, thumb tracing patterns over Dean’s knee.

Dean lurched forwards, dragging Cas into a kiss so toe-curlingly good that Cas swore he’d never been kissed with that much intensity and love in his entire life. “You’re beautiful. God, Cas. You’re such a sap, but God, you’re absolutely…” Dean trailed off, reaching up with his free hand to trail his fingers across Cas’ cheek. “I love you. God. I’m so in love with you,” Dean muttered, pressing fast little kisses across Cas’ face.

“You um- you like them?”

“Love ‘em,” Dean said, pressing their foreheads together. “Does that mean more ice skating dates? Because I’m pretty sure you promised to teach me to skate as well as you do.”

With a soft laugh, Cas looped his arms around Dean’s neck, bumping their noses together softly. “As many ice skating dates as you want. As long as you promise to kiss me on the ice.”

“Oh baby, I promise to kiss you everywhere all the time,” Dean teased, and as if to prove his point, he tilted his head and captured Cas’ lips in another kiss. Dean was the one pulling back and breaking the kiss a few blissful seconds later. “Your turn to open your present.”

Chewing his lip, Cas ducked his head with a muttered, “Okay.”

Dean gently nudged a box into Cas’ hands, and Cas sucked in a deep breath as he looked at the bright blue wrapping paper. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, and as he gently tore the paper, he began to feel the nerves kick up again; not even sure this time as to why he was so nervous.

But when he opened the box and looked inside, he felt his heart skitter out of his chest. The newest edition of the Montpelier Culinary School’s cookbook sat inside, with recipes from the chefs and the newest batch of students to graduate inside. Cas felt like he was going to shake apart. Dean had been listening. To everything he said. Even the parts about his dreams of being a chef.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, voice cracking on the name. “How? When?”

Dean reached up and settled his hand on the back of Cas’ neck, gently bringing their foreheads back together again. “Yesterday, when you were working. I told you I needed to run an errand for a fellow hunter and that I’d be back by dinner. I drove out to Montpelier and went to their culinary school- which is amazing, by the way. You mentioned how you’d been thinking about going back, but you weren’t sure. I just wanted you to know I support you if you decide to go back to culinary school. You’re an amazing cook, Cas, and someday I know you’ll be an even more amazing chef. And if there’s anyone who can cook the recipes from this book, it’s you,” Dean explained, voice tender and loving.

“You drove all the way to Montpelier because I told you I went to culinary school there before I dropped out?” Cas asked in shock, tears welling in his eyes.

Dean shrugged, like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t just cracked Cas’ heart open until it was beating solely for Dean. Like he hadn’t just made Cas fall even deeper in love.

At a loss for words, Cas kissed Dean. Kissed him and kissed him until his lungs burned, and then he kissed him some more. When they broke apart, both gasping for air, Cas felt like his face was going to break from how hard he was smiling.

“I’ll cook you something from the book tonight,” Cas said, grinning like a fool.

“I’m looking forward to it, sunshine,” Dean replied, fingers dancing up into Cas’ hair and stroking along his scalp softly.

“Hey, if you guys are done being all sickeningly loved up over each other, are you going to join us out back or not?” Libby called from the back door.

“Out back? What’s out back?” Dean asked, looking at Cas questioningly.

“I have a small fire pit in the backyard, and it became a tradition years ago that Lib and I toast marshmallows and make s’mores on Christmas morning,” Cas explained, standing up and offering Dean a hand. “That is, if you’d care to join me?”

“In making s’mores? Hell yes,” Dean replied, taking Cas’ hand and eagerly jumping up. Hand in hand, Cas and Dean made their way outside, where Sam and Libby were already tucked around the small fire; stainless steel sticks in their hands as they toasted their marshmallows over the fire.

“God, that already smells good,” Dean said, grabbing a couple sticks and some marshmallows, handing the extra supplies over to Cas. “Do I want to know how this became a tradition?” he asked, looking between Cas and Libby.

“She started it,” Cas said, pointing a finger at the same time Libby cried, “He totally started it.”

“Ah, so you’re both weirdos then?” Dean asked, grinning widely.

Cas stepped into Dean’s space, snagging the stick from his hand before he could stick his marshmallow into the fire. “If we’re such weirdos, then I guess you don’t want to eat this s’more. Oh well, more for me.”

“Don’t you dare,” Dean said, pushing up into Cas’ space, and kissing him. Just as Cas started to sink into the kiss, Dean yanked the s’mores stick from his hand and broke the kiss. “Ha. Nice try, handsome, but I win,” Dean teased, moving to hover his marshmallow over the flame.

Cas smiled brightly, sidling up next to Dean and starting to roast his own marshmallow. “Important question here. If you answer wrong, I’m breaking up with you. Burn the marshmallow, or evenly roast it?” Cas asked, nudging Dean’s shoulder with his own.

“You’re gonna break up with me if I answer wrong?”

“Mmhmm. Very serious question here, Dean. It’s make or break stuff,” Cas said in faux-seriousness.

“No pressure or anything then,” Dean said with a laugh. “Even dark brown, but not charred.”

Cas fake pondered Dean’s answer, but he broke out into a smile after a few seconds. “Right answer. Thank God, I don’t have to break up with you.”

Dean heaved a large sigh, leaning to press a kiss to Cas’ cheek. “Thank God, because I have no intention of letting you go anytime soon. You’re mine.”

The surge of warmth that burst through Cas’ veins had nothing to do with the crackling fire. They spent the next hour making s’mores and sharing stories around the fire. Cas took a bite of his s’more, feeling the marshmallow ooze fluff across his lips.

“Let me get that for you,” Dean said, darting forward to kiss the sugary treat from Cas’ lips. That led to them making out, and Sam and Libby jeering at them good-naturedly.

After that, Cas and Dean started sharing s’mores, leaning over and stealing kisses between each bite. Curled up by the fire in Dean’s arms with the sweet rush of chocolate and sugar, Cas had never had a more perfect Christmas. And judging by the way Dean kept pressing kisses into Cas’ mouth, Cas knew Dean felt the same way.

“Best Christmas ever,” Cas murmured into Dean’s mouth as they finished their fifth s’more.

“Best Christmas ever,” Dean echoed, leaning in and chasing the sugar high of Cas’ kisses.

Tag List Part 1 Below- (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!)

Tag List: @cas-deserved-so-much-more @hello-x-sunshine @bibelphegor @likepurplemuses @expectingtofly @neo-neo-neo @shadowywerewolfqueen @a-sweet-indisposition @feraladoration @xojo

@oganizediguana @paintdriesfaster @adsp-destielcockles @destielangst @im-your-huckle-berry @justa-crayon @dea-stiel @superduckbatrebel @destielfactory @miluiel-erynion

@y-yo-a-ti-cas67 @cockleslovesdestiel @toxic-nebula @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @enchantinghairdoherringwombat @proudace @galaxymysteryelephant @aelysianmuse @ramennoodles-dean-cas @you-changedmedean

@gmos-winter-wonderland @deansotherotherblog @trekkie24 @geo-val @dizzypinwheel @hermionevaldez9 @gimmeprozac @iamsherlockedondoctorwho @dickspeightjrs @imbiowaresbitch

@destielle @hopefuldreamers-world @organicpurplepants @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @shut-up-dean @sapphirecobalt-1 @eshaninjer @spnobsessed50 @mishka @holygoddessofvictory

@jayus-fandom-writer @2musiclover2 @rainbowscas @bennedict @cassiecasyl @jensenacklesruinedmylife @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @chaoticdean @destiel-trash-asf @tlakhtwritesdestiel

@bri-winchester @50shadesofcockles @trasherasswood @spittingpagan @castielstolemyheart @becky-srs @phoenix13 @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @deancasology @top13zepptraxx

@love-neve-dies @merry-things-do-happen-dean @tearsofgrace @thedirtytrenchcoat @a-porno-with-the-russian-mafia @on-a-bender @moi-the-bard @one-more-offbeat-anthem @naturallyathief @queen-rowenas

#destiel #hallmark #christmas #fluff #destiel fic

94 notes · View notes

acourtesanofedgewater · 3 years

Text

Open Heart 3 Ch. 8 SPOILERS for Bryce/Raf/Jackie Stans

I know I'm one day late. Blame PB for releasing the scripts so late. Why they even did that? Idk. It's not like this chapter is good.

Oh, here we are again. Honestly guys? I'm pissed off lmao. And you will be too when you're done reading this. But enough talking, let's begin. Beware, spoilers below the cut

Let's start with Bryce

•He DOES make an appearance this chapter AND has a diamond scene. Should we celebrate? Nah. It seems the only options with characters who-are-not-Ethan in this book are not having appearances at all or having mediocre little plots when they do appear. He makes his cameo at the begging. He's in the lobby with a friend of his, who's sick and wants Bryce to operate on him but Bryce seems reluctant to do so because it's a dangerous surgery. Does it have anything to do with his failed surgery? We won't find out, because instead of his premium scene being about... idk, having a coffee while he tells us about the consequences of his mistakes (not only at work, but also mentally), it is about... visiting a Escape Room with him and his friend? Um, ok. Should I mention that Bryce's pal call MC his 'friend' twice? Yep, PB still refuses to acknowledge MC's relationship with Bryce, even though they've been together for two years and shared a tender moment when MC was about to die. When I was reading the scene, I was like "uuugh, let me guess? we get this corny funny scene and near the ending Bryce and MC find a hideout to make out". Turns out I was wrong lmao. I expect nothing and I'm still let down. They just share a little kiss I front of Bryce's friend when they are leaving the Escape Room. It is mentioned they all are gonna have dinner after this, but we don't get to see that because that would mean PB has to actually write interesting dialogue and develop Bryce and that's sacrilege.

Ok, Jackie's turn.

•She doesn't show up in this chapter. She's not even mentioned. Silly us, Jackie already had her crumbs of development last chapter, there's no need to give her more screentime this chapter lmao. Not when that screentime can be used developing Ethan.

And lastly, Raf.

•He turns up too, but it's a situation similar to Bryce's. He's rehabilitating a little boy who's sad because he will miss his birthday, so enter the bonus scene where MC has the idea of recruiting Sienna too and organizing a surprise party for the kid in the Pediatric Ward. It's actually a cute scene, and spending time with Sienna is always good, but that's the problem. The scene is about the little boy, zero Raf development or plot, and I even feel he wasn't even needed here. We know Sienna visits the PW every once in a while so they could've made her be the one who came to us with the little kid situation and everything would have turned out to be the same, except for some dialogues. Then, near the end, Raf and MC share some flirting words and a little kiss, but everything is in front of the kids, so it's over pretty quick.

And... that's it for our LIs. It sucks, but it's not the worst thing abour this chapter. I'm gonna leave some spoilers of the general plot here below so you can be as angry as me.

•MC confronts Ethan about the trial thing. You can choose to go soft on him or be outraged and point out he's a piece of shit. I recommend the second option. Anyway, if you end up agreeing with him about his decision, he says something like: "I knew you'd understand me, you care about these patients as much as I do" which, for me, given the fact he's older than MC and their boss (and being a victim of grooming myself by someone older than me and that was kinda in a position of power above me too) IS FUCKING GROOMING. If you had any doubts the lead of this book is a creep.

•Yadda yadda, we get Bryce and Raf's mediocre scenes, and back to the main plot, MC and Tobias have to diagnose a patient together. The patient is the most annoying character on this series, only below Ethan. Seriously, she's worse than that Nigel guy from Book 1 who called Bryce "Ken doll". Tobias is kinda shady with her (but... light and funny shady. He's never mean or anything) and we're supposed to be like "ugh, Tobias is the worst" but the patient is annoying so yeah, I loved Tobias' actitude.

•There were lots of Tobias moments this chapter, and he's honestly really nice. I hope we can keep him in Edenbrook. We could even kick Ethan's ass out in order to raise his salary❤.

•Ok, and now the cherry on top of a shitty chapter. Do y'all remember how we were afraid PB was gonna make Harper MC's rival? It seemed like they had dropped that plot and we were safe... but it turns out they haven't. Harper finds out our patient has cheated their way into the trial and while Tobias and MC are bonding in the DT' office, she comes in furious as hell, and starts blaming the MC and insulting them, assuming they're the one who did the trial thing. Harper' screams are so loud that Ramsey, who was in the hall, listens and comes in running. Harper explains what "MC" did and we have three options: blame Ethan, insist we're not guilty but not blame Ethan, and ignore the accusations. Either way, Harper keeps on with the accusations (she's even more enraged if you blame Ethan)

•Ethan lets her mop the floor with MC a bit more before stopping her and admitting he's the one who cheated. Harper is shocked and Ramsey HAS THE AUDACITY of angrily leave the office. He really thinks he's the one who should be outraged in this situation. He's the most childish character PB has ever created. (Props to Tobias for being the only decent character in this situation, asking Harper to calm down because she couldn't know for sure it MC was to blame in this situation).

•MC runs after him. And sure, irl I'd run after him too, but to confront him and complain about all the mess his shitty behavior has caused (or, how we say in my country, putearlo. I wanna clarify to my fellow Latinoamericans, "putear" has a different meaning in Ecuador than in the rest of Latam lmao for us is similar to "mandar a la verga" JAJSJAJAJSK). But no, MC fucking goes to see if he's alright. And cue to the most ridiculous scene in this series:

•Okay, I know we all made fun of the BDSM outfits when the assets came out, and yeah, they're cringey af, but I was curious to see how the story would develop towards these outfits. Everyone guessed they meant kinky time with out LIs. Wrong again. Ethan is so mad about... well, idk why he's so mad, he's just facing the consequences of his actions, but anyway, he needs to release that frustration and that's when we're offered the kinky outfit. Yep, the kinky scene is Ethan-exclusive. It was so fucking easy to include the other LIs in this. Bryce could be frustrated because he's not the same after his failed surgery, Jackie because she has to lead the interns and Jade keeps screwing up, and Raf... well, he should be mad because PB tried to kill him and then decided not to but kept sidelining him and can't even give him a decent storyline could be frustrated because it's exhausting to try to help the patients when they make little progress and become disappointed. PB just was lazy and didn't care.

•Don't ask me about the BDSM scene, nothing in this world will make me read a sex scene with Ethan. I kept scrolling until I was sure that abomination was over. Although I caught the word "safe word" somewhere there so... yeah.

•The next day after that heated discussion, MC enters the DT' office. Harper doesn't even offer an apology for treating MC like shit, she acts like nothing happened. MC notices there's this peace in the air and there's no whining, so they ask where's Ethan

•Turns out, Harper reported MC to their superiors when she thought it was them who messed up the trial and now Ethan had to turn himself in and is meeting with the board. Then, she blatantly admits that if she knew Ethan was the one who did it, she would have talked to him first. She says she regrets telling the board, although, as she doesn't offer MC an apology, it seems she only regrets getting Ethan in trouble, not her awful attitude. Tobias is named the new leader of the DT, and that's the only highlight in this mess of a chapter.

I have more thoughts about everything, but I'll post them tomorrow, when they can reach more people. And I'll catch up with this shitt book just so I can join the mob law tomorrow lmao. See you then.

#playchoices #choices #choices stories you play #open heart #open heart 3 #open heart third year #oh 3 #choices oh #bryce lahela #jackie varma #rafael aveiro

31 notes · View notes

milknette · 3 years

Text

chapter 01 - au

lights out solo in the blue, but now i’ve found you.

tumblr month: @adrinetteapril

links: ao3 | ff.net chapter: previous | next

HUMANS suck.

Marinette bites back the need to scream, instead settling for a cold glare pointed at anyone who dares look at her— some even having the audacity to laugh .

This is a terrible idea.

Why did she think this was a good idea in the first place?

Her mind races back to last summer, where Alya was animatedly telling her about the wonders of the human world: how it was filled with knowledge and treasures that she could never find back home, where the people were so interesting and diverse, pointing out that she’d likely never get bored with the sheer amount of things they could do way up there.

“Come with me, Mari!” Alya had begged her. “This was literally the best summer I’ve ever had and I can’t imagine going back to college without you. I swear you won’t regret it.”

But as she stands in the middle of the quad, soaking wet from head to toe, Marinette only finds that she wants to curse her best friend’s name; to grab Alya by the shoulders and shout, “I regret it, you land mammal— how do you live like this!?! ”

She really should’ve just stayed at home.

Her dad was right, after all. Marinette doesn't belong here.

(Not with creatures like them.)

The mermaids are a proud people; ever since they had shown themselves to the humans (though the land people insisted they ‘discovered’ them— Marinette has to roll her eyes, humans could be so selfish and egotistical. ), active attempts to integrate and create peaceful unions between the two species were being implemented.

It was one step further into blurring the line between the real and the mythical— though really not all that noticed, as most mermaids didn’t care about the world on land in the first place.

Only a handful were actually interested in human life, and even fewer made an attempt to live within it.

Marinette, to her deep regret, happens to be one of them.

After a fair amount of begging and convincing, her parents had allowed her to take a kind of ‘exchange program’, where she’d be attending university with Alya on land for the next year.

It's exciting, at first.

Walking on her own two feet is a struggle ( really , how humans survived with these two weak limbs, she'll never understand), but decides that it’d be worth it if Alya had been telling the truth.

Sure, there are times Marinette misses her mermaid tail.

Though, at this moment, she really could be doing without it.

Marinette growls, looking irritatedly down at her scales, gleaming pink as they reflect in the sunlight. Her tail serves her well underwater, definitely, but it has become completely and utterly inconvenient on land: flopping uselessly as she tries to make her way to her next class.

She has no intention of transforming back to her original form, of course, but some other students thought it would be oh-so-funny to force her to do so— attacking while Alya wasn’t with her, so they knew Marinette would be stuck without being able to do anything about it.

After all, it's common knowledge that a transformed mermaid exposed to water would automatically revert back to her original form, and stay like that until they dried up— which meant one thing:

Because of a couple of immature college kids with water balloons, she’d miss her next class.

Again.

They're only too lucky that a mermaid using their powers is illegal, or they’d be in a whole new hell of trouble.

The sudden ring of Marinette’s phone distracts the mermaid from her thoughts, as she quickly retrieves it and answers the call.

“Girl, where are you?” The voice asks on the other line. “I dropped by Mme. Mendeleiev’s class and you’re not there yet? You know she’s tired of you being late all the time.”

Marinette groans, running a wet hand down her face. “Water balloons.” She only responds, flatly.

“Oh.”

From the static of the phone call, she can hear a hiccup, evidently her friend's poor attempt at trying to hide her laughter.

“It’s not funny, Alya!” Marinette cries, hissing as a few teenagers point and take out their phones to record her. “I’m stuck in the middle of the goddamn quad because of you land mammals ,” she spits. “Your species sucks.”

“Hey, not all of us!” Alya protests back. “I’m a great land mammal.” The line suddenly goes silent, as Alya pauses if in thought. “Why don’t you just dry up? Where’s your towel?”

“Sure you are,” Marinette only drawls. “And it’s still wet; this wasn’t the first attack I got today.” She snarls, tightening her grip around her phone. “Now get over here and help me out. It’s hot and if another teenager tries to take a video of me, I’m going to end up breaking more than a few laws, and that’ll get us both in trouble.”

A gasp. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

From the other line, Marinette hears sudden scuffling and books being thrown into her bag. “Fine, fine, give me fifteen minutes. I’m on my way.”

“Hurry up,” the mermaid responds curtly, before hanging up the phone.

She sighs, putting away the gadget, and looking upward. “This is so annoying,” Marinette complains, squinting as the sun shines down on her. Muttering to herself, she grabs at her tail in an attempt to drag it to some place that was shadier, with little to no success.

Marinette glares at her lower half.

Betrayal.

Humans are the absolute worst.

She decides that the next person who even attempts to look, much less talk to her, would understand why mermaids remained as creatures to be feared.

— And as it turned out she didn’t have to wait long, a cautious tap on her shoulder sending a sudden shiver down her spine.

Who the hell is dumb enough to touch a mermaid without her consent?

“What?” Marinette finally snaps, turning (with great difficulty) to the guilty party.

Only to flounder as bright green eyes meet her icy blue ones.

“I’m sorry,” the boy says, an awkward laugh escaping him. “I just thought you might need help,” he begins, clumsily gesturing at the lower half of her body, “with… all that.”

Marinette squeaks, a high-pitched sound of disbelief, before laughing— a notch too high for it to be considered genuine. “Oh, this? ” She asks, awkwardly patting at her tail. “This is nothing! No big deal! I’m cool, I’m cool, it’s cool… because I’m a mermaid, get it, it’s always cool underwater, haha …”

An awkward pause.

She cringes.

Did she really just say that?

Marinette wants to swim into the deepest trench in the ocean and stay in there.

Until she hears laughter.

The mermaid looks up, and to her complete surprise, the boy is laughing: amusement evident in his expression.

“Yeah!” He smiles ( a toothy grin that rivals even the rarest pearls she had scavenged back at home ), then continues. “That’s really funny, Marinette.”

She pauses, looking at him in disbelief. “You know my name?”

“Of course!” He replies, that same kind look in his eyes. “You did make quite a splash when you got here,” he winks.

That's corny.

Really corny.

So why in Poseidon’s name does she find that absolutely adorable?

“And I’m also studying mythology,” the apparent student continues. “I see you around the building sometimes.”

So the very pretty human boy who reminds her of sunshine (the good kind— warm and comforting, the kind of sunlight that reminded her of home; not the heated and dry sun that‘d been constantly beating her down as soon as she started living on land) knows her name.

That's nice.

Marinette continues looking at him, dumbstruck.

As if only realizing something, he smiles, offering his hand. “I’m Adrien, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

She stutters, awkwardly taking it.

His hands are smooth — nothing like the rough and calloused hands of the land people she’d met thus far.

“I— uh— Marinette.”

The corners of his mouth tilt upward. “Yes, I know.” He laughs.

Oh.

Right .

Why is she so nervous? This isn’t like her at all.

“So, about my offer?”

“Huh?” Marinette asks, still reeling from the sudden attention.

The mermaid isn’t used to his attitude, after all, knowing that most humans typically don’t take all that kindly to her species.

Friendliness, Marinette isn’t quite used to yet.

(Alya being the sole exception. If she arrives in the next five minutes, at least.)

The amused smile never leaves the human’s— Adrien’s face. “You’re a literal fish out of water. I don’t think you’re stuck here because you want to, right?”

She nods, the joke easily going over her head, as she remembers what happened. “Some girls thought it’d be funny to force me to transform back here.” Marinette growls. “You humans are all the same —.”

A pause, as she looked at the friendliness in his eyes.

There's no hostility, fear, or disgust in them.

It's a nice change of pace.

“Well, most of you are, anyway,” she amends, then gestures down the rest of her body. “I’m stuck like this until I dry up.”

Adrien hums, sympathetic. “That’s pretty inconvenient.”

“It is,” Marinette agrees. “But my friend’s on the way, so don’t worry— I mean ," she pauses, "not to say that you were worrying about me or anything, I’m just…”

The mermaid fumbles on her words, before resignedly just shutting up. “That is to say, I’ll be just fine.”

Adrien quirks an eyebrow, before looking around. “Really? Your friend’s nowhere to be seen, are you sure you‘ll be okay?” He pauses. “And don’t you have class with Mme. Mendeleiev right now?”

Okay, now he has to be some kind of mind-reader, right?

(Not all that farfetched, considering the co-existence of humans and mermaids in their world.)

“Wh— how do you know that?

“I’m actually her TA,” he explains. “I keep track of all her students and classes. So helping you would actually be doing my job.”

“No, it’s really alright—”

“I have some papers to give her anyways, so it’s on the way,” he points out, patting his messenger bag. Then, his lips quirk upward. “And besides, I’m pretty sure you’re in danger of being dropped from her class if you’re late again.”

She gulps.

Of course he’d know about that, wouldn’t he?

Marinette sighs, defeated. “Fine,” she began. “There should be some towels in the restrooms; it’s a little far, but if you could—”

“No time,” Adrien only states, suddenly kneeling down in front of her. “I think you only have five minutes before you’re late, and it’s a ten-minute walk to our building.”

He grins, before suddenly scooping his arms under her tail and waist, raising her up.

Marinette can’t stop the surprised squeak escape her throat, as she feels herself get lifted off the ground.

The cute boy is carrying her.

And not just any carry, but a princess carry .

“What are you doing put me down I’m gonna scream …” Marinette rushes to say, swatting helplessly at his chest.

This is so undignified for a mermaid, to have some human’s filthy hands on her —

Adrien smiles.

Marinette feels her mermaid-equivalent of a human heart skip a beat.

Then, he winks.

She's sure she's the color of her tail, now.

“Let’s go!” He only says, before running with surprising speed, so light and quick on his feet that she feels like she's flying. His hold on her didn’t falter either, carrying the mermaid with both strength and gentleness.

It's a strange feeling, being in his arms.

But as he easily runs into the building and up four flights of stairs, she decides that it's not entirely uncomfortable, maybe .

Marinette shows up in the nick of time, only a few minutes before she’d officially be considered late.

Mme. Mendeleiev looks at the two as they burst into her classroom, hands crossed against her chest. “Late again, Marinette?” She asks, evidently unamused.

The mermaid is about to protest, until Adrien decides to speak up:

“Actually, ma’am, Marinette’s just in time.”

“I take attendance at 10:15 sharp, Adrien.”

“And she got here at,” Adrien exhales, out-of-breath, as he looks at his phone, showing the lock screen. “10:14,” he states.

Mme. Mendeleiev pauses, eyes narrowing at the two, before sighing.

“Fine,” the professor sighs. “There are towels at the back. Dry yourself up then take your seat, Marinette,” she states, then pointedly looks at Adrien. “And you,” Mme. Mendeleiev stares at the floor, dripping wet from their entrance. “Go get a mop and clean up this mess…”

The sudden “woah!” from outside following a crash makes her frown.

“... before anyone gets hurt.”

Adrien has the decency to offer a sheepish smile, before immediately nodding, helping the mermaid to the back, then setting her down.

“Sorry for getting you in trouble,” Marinette mutters, apologetic, taking the towel in her hands. “And giving you extra work to do.”

He shrugs, visibly unbothered, as the kind smile remains on his face.

“You didn’t get me in trouble, I decided to do this myself.” He responds. “I couldn’t leave you alone helpless like that.”

“You’d be the first,” she points out, using the towel to wipe her hair. “I guess humans aren’t all that bad.”

“Yeah,” Adrien chimes, a bright laugh escaping him as he runs a hand down his wet hair. “Not all of us land mammals suck, I can promise you that.”

Marinette manages to look the slightest bit embarrassed. “You heard that, huh?”

He smiles. “Yup,” he responds easily, before leaning over to her ear. “But I get you. Some humans really stink up here.” He wrinkles his nose, then scrunches his nose up in a way that she can only describe as absolutely adorable. “Must be because they aren’t taking a bath 24/7.”

Marinette feels herself laugh, ready to reply, when—

“What’s taking so long?”

Mme. Mendeleiev finally barks, glaring at the two.

The two look at each other, then burst into laughter.

“Guess that means I have to go,” Adrien says lightly, then bends down, kissing her hand. “I’ll sea you around, Marinette!”

He runs out, and for the first time, Marinette feels like she's falling.

Or sinking , if she's being technical about it.

#hey hi hello #comeback?#adrinetteapril2021 #adrinette april #adrinetteapril #adrinette #adrienette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml #miraculous ladybug #milk writes #ml fic #ml fanfic #sandbar nine

30 notes · View notes

ptergwen · 4 years

Note

yo, what do you think about peter with an azula type reader? Like with the abilities & all that? Would he be interested in something like that, wdy think?

YOOOO HOLD ON i never thought about that before but now that you mentioned it that would be so sick! so here’s a kinda long headcanon

you were recruited by tony after he read your file from SHIELD

he had asked them to send over any information they had on possible threats

your name was on the list

tony read all about your fire powers and where you came from

he realized you were just a kid who needed some guidance, and you could do amazing things if you learned how to use your powers for good

that’s how you end up at the avengers facility

you want to work on yourself as much as tony does, but you were honestly scared

until you met peter

tony introduced you to him after you settled into your room

peter definitely wasn’t ready for it

“i’m uh, wow, i’m peter. your hair’s really pretty. wait that’s weird-“

he was a stuttering, blushing mess

you thought it was kind of sweet

“i like yours too. i’m y/n.”

he gave you a goofy smile and stuck out his hand

that was a bit dorky to you, but you shook it anyway

part of working on yourself is being nicer to people

tony suggested peter gave you a tour of the facility, and you were both down

peter took you down every hall on every floor, telling you fun facts about each avenger when you passed their room

he sure did talk a lot

it’s nice though. you didn’t really have friends, and this was your chance to change that

you even laughed at a corny science joke peter made while showing you tony’s lab

“personally, the movie theater is my favorite room in the whole place”

“do you guys have star wars here? it would look so cool on a screen that big”

“oh my god, we’re gonna be best friends”

you started your training the next morning with wanda, since her powers are the most similar to yours

she teaches you how to control yourself so your emotions didn’t set them off

you have a habit of shooting fireballs involuntarily when you lost your temper

peter offered to help you practice defense moves later

he didn’t know what he was in for

he thought having nonflammable webs meant he’d get you down easily

you just blocked everything he shot with a shield of fire

peter was already in awe of what he was seeing

“holy shit, you can do that? that’s so awesome!”

“i can do a lot of stuff, peter. maybe i should be giving you defense training”

training with peter and wanda went on for a couple of weeks

then you added in breakfast with peter and lunch after defense practice

it became a routine you actually looked forward to

you eventually worked your way up to gameroom nights together

your favorite is air hockey because you beat peter almost every time

sometimes you let him win just to see his dumb eye crinkling smile

dance dance revolution is also fun

you both suck so you always end up freestyling

peter’s carefree attitude really balances you out, especially when you‘re in a mood about something

unlike most people, your sarcasm is what peter likes most about you. you could be funny without actually trying

he’s one of the only people who wasn’t automatically afraid of you or your powers. he gave you a chance to show your real self to him

you spent over a month getting to know each other before peter asked you out on a date

he was super nervous about it, sweaty palms and all

“y/n, you um... i mean um... do you wanna watch a movie with me?”

“like as a date?”

“if that’s okay with you, yeah”

so you watched the empire strikes back in the big facility movie theater

you and peter shared popcorn and he kept doing the cliche thing where he’d “accidentally” touch your hand in the bucket

he was such a nerd but you overlooked it

towards the end he worked up the courage to hold your hand

you were surprised he didn’t ask a bunch of times first, but laced your fingers together

after it ended he walked you back to your room (which was right across from his) with his hand in yours

the next morning at breakfast he asked you out on another movie date

a few weeks later and you were officially a couple

you’re also officially on the team!!!

tony decided you’d had enough training at that point to start patrolling

peter took you with him one night so he could give you a little tutorial

there wasn’t much going on, so you just did firebending tricks for him on a random rooftop

peter loves watching you in your element

he knows how powerful you really are, and that you can do things nobody else could. no one appreciated it like he did

patrol evolves into missions together

you play bad guy, he plays good guy when it comes to dealing with anyone

peter has his quips and strength, you have a lot of rage and stamina to work with

tony is proud of the duo he kind of created

of course peter gives you those cheesy compliments after like “you were on fire out there” and “you looked smoking hot fighting that guy, babe”

then there are the missions that don’t go so well

you have a hard time keeping it together like wanda taught you when those happen

you’ll get back to the facility and fight some punching bags in the gym, burning at least one to ashes

peter never judges you for that

he knows how it feels to be angry after losing

you just want to prove you‘re getting better, and a loss won’t do that

he helps you get your confidence back up, however long it takes

it isn’t long at all before you have him pinned to the floor during training

which could sometimes lead to a makeout session if he isn’t feeling too shy

oh yeah and peter looooooves kissing you

like he’s just waiting for you to make the move all the time

you’re the one who speeds it up or bites his lip first

plus he says you taste like cinnamon which you’re pretty sure is another fire joke

you’re there to make peter feel better after his losses too

he’s better at it though because he’s the nice one and you’re more awkward with that stuff

but you both support each other however you can

you’re not super into pda because peter is shy about it, but there are those rare times he holds you by your waist or kisses your cheek in front of the other avengers

sam and bucky tease the hell out of peter for it

everyone else just ignores it, but thor thinks it’s adorable

you have to admit, you love your odd little family

you take advantage of the summer weather and have campouts in the huge ass backyard sometimes

peter gets the tent set up while you start a fire by throwing fire disks at the wood

it gets peter every time

“y/n, i think you’re the coolest person i know. or should i say warmest?”

“parker, i think you’re the biggest nerd i know. but it’s cute”

you roast marshmallows and pepper comes to check on you once or twice

tony worries about you guys, but he won’t say it directly

you try to scare peter with a ghost story, and he won’t confirm but you saw him shiver

you go to bed in sleeping bags with peter’s head resting on your chest

when summer comes to an end, peter has to go back home to queens

school is a thing and he misses may

you’re both literally devastated he can’t stay at the facility forever

“i wish you could come to midtown so bad. it’s gonna suck not seeing you every day”

“i have to keep working on myself. we’ll figure it out, parker”

you hug for a good five minutes and peter has to let go first

you’ll never tell him, but you cried the day he left

it’s not so bad because you have nat and wanda to spend time with

and peter texts you live updates of his days at school

you also facetime if he’s not on patrol or you’re not on a mission

he makes his weekly visits to the facility as requested by tony

but he spends more time with you than whatever he’s supposed to be doing

peter brings ned and mj with him one time since he thinks you’ll all get along

you become friends with mj even faster than peter

she has the same dry sense of humor as you, and she thinks your powers are so badass

now you have the best boyfriend in the world and some really cool friends too

life isn’t so bad after all

337 notes · View notes

jobean12-blog · 4 years

Text

Just like Heaven

Pairings: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,641

Summary: Bucky beard is a beautiful distratction when he catches you rockin’ out to 80s music.

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club continuation of drunk drabbles and the amazing prompt sent in below (that was literally written for me because BEARD!) and Music Era Monday! I was listening to my 80s playlist the whole time I wrote this and I still can’t stop smiling. I hope you enjoy this and it makes you smile! Thank you all for reading and much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Fluffy fun, lots of singing, awesome 80s music, A TRUE LOVE FOR BUCKY’S BEARD! 😁

Bucky stands at your door, knocking for a second time. He can hear your very loud music and knows you most likely can’t hear him knocking. Your singing rings out over the music and he chuckles, giving the door one more hard knock before opening it up.

“She drives me crazy; I can’t help myself…” Your body moves in rhythm to the music, your hand grasping an incredibly old wooden spoon as you belt out the lyrics. Your ponytail is swinging back and forth while your head bops and your socked feet slide across the floor. “I can’t get any rest; people say I’m obsessed.” You haven’t looked up in who knows how long, shaking your hips as you move across the kitchen.

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!” You let out a shrill scream when your back hits something hard, spinning so fast you whip Bucky with your hair and throw the spoon in his face. His very hairy face. ��Oh Bucky! HOLY CRAP! I’m sorry, I didn’t hear or see you and then you were just there.” You’re yelling over the music, eyes wide.

Your focus moves back to very fluffy looking beard he has going on and you find your thoughts wandering. “Can we lower the music, doll?” Your eyes shoot back to his, your forehead creasing in confusion. “What?” Bucky just smiles and walks around you, hitting the power button on your speakers.

“I said. Can we lower the music?” he laughs. “Oh, yea, of course, thanks for shutting it, I couldn’t hear a damn thing.” Giving you a very “duh” look he holds up your wooden spoon. “Great mic! I think it might be older than me.” You stalk over and take it from his hand, “oh shut up. You mean you never sang into a spoon when you were little?”

Bucky watches your eyes flick back down to his beard. “Something on my face, doll?” Your cheeks warm and you pretend to fix your socks. “No, no. Um, anyway. Did you need me?” Bucky looks like he wants to say more but instead asks, “what were you listening to? It’s really fun!” Your whole face brightens as you grab your phone and show him your 80s playlist. “It’s all music from the 1980s and it is really fun! I’m glad you like it!”

He scrolls through your phone, stopping at ‘Take on Me.’ “There is a band with the name ‘A-ha’?” he questions, making a funny face at your phone. You take the moment to study his face again, his dark beard covering most of his cheeks, your fingers itching to touch it. “I wanna hear this one,” he says, pressing play and handing you back your phone.

Your eyes flick to his beard one last time before the synthesized piano kicks in. Bucky smiles, tapping his foot to the music. You start singing, once again dancing around your room. Bucky takes your hand and twirls you. “Woooooo! Today's another day to find you shying away, I'll be coming for your love, okay?” You sing into your spoon much to Bucky’s amusement and delight.

He pulls you into his chest, circling one arm around your waist while his metal hand holds yours. “Oh my gosh, Buck, this is like the waltz. Not at all for the 80’s!” You laugh and throw your arms around his neck. “What am I supposed to do then, huh? You show me,” he asks before picking you up and spinning around. Your laughter rises over the music as you cling to him. “Not this either but it’s so fun!”

When he finally puts you down the next song has started, and you start to jump in happiness but quickly stumble from dizziness. “Woah, doll.” Bucky catches you in his arms, “sorry. Too many spins, huh?” You giggle and right yourself, your face now awfully close to his. Your hand inches up his chest and just as you’re about to stroke his beard you hear Steve’s voice over the AI.

“Bucky, what the hell. We were supposed to go for a run 20 minutes ago!” Bucky lets out an exasperated sigh. “All we do is run!” You laugh and go to lower the music again. “Did you need something?” Bucky’s phone buzzes and he picks it up, shouting into it, “I’m coming Steve, one sec!” He abruptly hangs up and smiles, “yeah actually. Do you have headphones I can borrow? I hate running without music and I can’t find mine anywhere.”

“Sure! I can send you my 80s playlist too, if you want, so you can give it a listen on your run?” He steals the spoon from your hand, saying, “only if I can bring this to sing.” Rolling your eyes you take his phone, setting up the playlist and handing him the headphones.

“All set! Enjoy your run. And gimme back my mic!” Holding out your hand you wait until he gives it back, running over and turning the volume back up. “Won’t you come see about me, I’ll be alone dancing, you know it baby” You give him a wave as he walks to the door, smiling the whole time. “See you later, doll.” Flipping your hair around you sing to him, “don’t you forget about me.”

With one final laugh he shuts the door and you put down your spoon. Leaning against the counter you take a long drink of water, your thoughts drifting back to how good he looks with the beard. “Shit,” you mutter, just as “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” starts to play.

Later that night you head to the common room, excited to find it empty. You plug in your phone, scrolling through your 80s playlist. You’ve been listening to it all day, loving it even more now that you shared it with Bucky. You decide on ‘Invisible Touch’ by Genesis and head to the kitchen. Since you don’t have your wooden spoon handy you grab one of Tony’s fancy spatulas, one you’re sure he’s never actually used before.

“And now it seems I’m falling, falling for her. She seems to have an invisible touch.” You whip around like Allison in The Breakfast Club, throwing your hands up. Wiggling over to the fridge you start pulling out the necessities for a sandwich. “Hey, wanna make me one while you’re at it?” You feel his presence more than hear his question, whipping around to find Bucky standing at the island.

Dancing over you lean into him, “did you say something?” He takes your phone and lowers the volume, smirking when he sees your playlist. “Invisible Touch, huh? I really like that one. The lyrics to these songs are great. I’ve been listening to your playlist nonstop today!” You squeal in happiness! “That’s awesome Bucky. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. And what did you say before?”

“Oh yea, do you mind making me a sandwich since you’re making one?” Picking up your spatula mic you dance back to the counter. “Not at all. Ham, cheese and mayo, right?” He gives you a thumbs up, turning the volume louder. ‘Hungry like the Wolf’ comes on and you give a loud whoop. “I LOVE THIS ONE!”

“Dark in the city, night is a wire,” you sing into your spatula. Bucky grabs a whisk and starts singing along, “woman, you want me, give me a sign. And catch my breathing even closer behind.” You can’t stop smiling as you sing together, the music moving through your body like the very blood in your veins.

When the song ends you finish up the sandwiches, placing Bucky’s down in front of him. “Let’s eat!” He grabs the sandwich and holds it up to his mouth but not before saying, “good, because I’m hungry like the wolf.” You almost spit out your bite at his corny line, grabbing your water to take a drink. “Wow, I’ve converted you in one day! Awesome!”

You eat while listening to Heart’s ‘These Dreams.’ You notice Bucky has some mayo on his beard. Reaching over the island you brush your thumb over the soft hair, your mouth parting at the contact. “There’s still more.” His tongue darts out to lick it off but he doesn’t get it all. “Gone?” he asks, his voice suddenly much deeper.

Shaking your head, you swipe your thumb over the spot once more, this time getting it all. You close your mouth to stop the moan that almost escapes and your thighs clench together as your mind once again races with thoughts of how good his beard would feel on your body. “Doll?” His voice pulls you from your thoughts and you sit down with a plop. ‘Crazy for You,’ comes on and Bucky’s eyes sparkle.

He rounds the island and gently picks you up off the stool, taking you in his arms and holding you close. “It’s all brand new, I’m crazy for you.” You laugh, loving that he already knows some of the lyrics. “So, am I crazy or are you a big fan of the beard?” You suck in a breath, surprised and a little embarrassed that he picked up on your (all too obvious) weakness over his facial hair.

“Soon we two are standing still in time. If you read my mind, you'll see, I’m crazy for you.” You sing the words quietly, hoping your meaning gets across. Bucky gets the message. His lips meet yours, softly at first and the light brush of his beard over your soft skin makes you moan into his mouth. ‘I'm crazy for you. Touch me once and you'll know it's true, I never wanted anyone like this. It's all brand new. You'll feel it in my…’ The lyrics fade away just as Bucky’s hand cradles the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to deepen the kiss and it feels just like heaven.

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @azurika-writes @book-dragon-13 @buckys-broody-muffin @bugsbucky @bucky-on-my-mind @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hailmary-yramliah @hawksmagnolia @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @imgaril-lindru @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelandotherfandomimagines @marvelgirl7 @nano--raptor @nerdypinupcrystal @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @the-wayward-robot

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #beard kink #80s music #1980s music #sebastian stan #marvel #hbc drunk drabbles #hbc music eras monday #ladies of the hbc

298 notes · View notes

quokkacore · 4 years

Text

nct 127 + the “worst songs to have sex to” playlist (m)

genre: smut, fluff, crack

pairing: nct 127 x gender neutral reader (no mention of gender specific anatomy, but the reader is the one getting, uhhh.... penetrated)

warnings: explicit sex, language

a/n: this was inspired by a haikyuu reaction (which if i have the time, i’ll come back to edit in). i wrote this at two in the morning while i couldn’t sleep, and it shows. also, i’m not sure if johnny’s is in poor taste or not. i honestly mean no disrespect, but if people get upset, then i’ll take down this post and reupload it with something for him.

here is the playlist, if anyone is curious.

"hey, babe?" your boyfriend sat down on your bed, and you looked up from your phone to meet his eyes.

"what's up?"

"so, i just found this and, uh..." he showed you a spotify playlist, and you stifled a laugh at the title. "oh my god. do you wanna try?"

"well... how bad could it be?"

nsfw under the cut

𝐭 𝐚 𝐞 𝐲 𝐨 𝐧 𝐠

honestly, you weren't sure what you were expecting. you both did your best to try and ignore the music. which was going perfectly fine, until one song faded out and the sound of trumpets filled the room, amidst the sound of taeyong's groans, your whining, and the sound of skin on skin.

soon enough, you realized you heard lionel richie's voice, then stevie wonder's... then tina turner's... then...

"hold on, hold on." taeyong stopped the movement of his hips, and you stared up at him, frustrated. you had been so close, and now, he asked, "is this we are the world?"

you looked to the side for a second. "uhh, i'm pretty sure it is."

taeyong gulped, and right as the chorus hit with a bittersweet, "we are the world, we are the children..." he made a face, and promptly pulled out of you. you winced, watching as he stood. "tae, what the hell?"

"i'm sorry!" he called, leaving the bedroom, "i need to go make a donation to unicef, or something!"

𝐭 𝐚 𝐞 𝐢 𝐥

to be frank, if someone had said that one of you would start crying during sex, you expected it to be you, not taeil.

he had been pounding you into the mattress, sucking dark bruises into your neck, not paying heed to the songs. he was doing a pretty bang up job at keeping you distracted from the songs also.

then circle of life from the lion king started playing.

a few moments later, taeil lifted his head from your collarbone, and his eyes welled with tears... because what person born after 1994 didn't cry with the lion king?

and so, the night ended with you patting taeil on the shoulder, as he cried softly into your neck because of how tragic and unfair mufasa's death scene had been.

𝐣 𝐨 𝐡 𝐧 𝐧 𝐲

sex with johnny was rarely serious, contrary to popular belief. his carefree and upbeat attitude always meant you were in for playful, mind-blowing sex.

which was why it came as a shock to you when, amidst the both of you bumping noses and giggling into kisses at how silly the songs were, johnny's face fell when a single trumpet blared a single, sad note from the speaker.

you thought for a moment, panting from pleasure, at what song it was. but then you realized that the song, taps, was the song played at american military funerals. johnny, an american first and foremost, had already realized that.

"john? are you okay...?"

"i can't do this," he mumbled in a daze, before getting up, muttering to himself about showing some respect.

you don't have sex for another two weeks because johnny refuses to look you in the eye.

𝐝 𝐨 𝐲 𝐨 𝐮 𝐧 𝐠

surely, doyoung would be able to ignore the songs. he does... to an extent. you don't even make it past foreplay until the sound of violins and funky disco music fill the room. doyoung lets out a laugh as he shoves a second finger, realizing that the playlist has bestowed dancing queen upon you both. "abba? really?"

you both laugh a little, but continue anyway. your head falls onto the mattress, whining as doyoung's long fingers twist and turn inside of you. you could feel something bubbling in the pit of your stomach...

could. key word.

then you realized that doyoung was humming and bopping his head along to the melody as he did so, and you broke out into laughter. doyoung froze, wide eyed as he watched you lose your shit, not even realizing he'd been what had caused you to.

"y-you were humming and moving along to the beat!" you said in between cackles, curling up on yourself.

"it's catchy..." doyoung mumbled, "i couldn't help myself..."

𝐲 𝐮 𝐭 𝐚

you were so, so close. yuta had slung your legs over his shoulders in an effort to hit deeper, and it was doing wonders.

you were whining his name when a familiar synth beat caught your ear, and evidently, it caught your boyfriend's attention as well. he stopped moving, and you pouted, your orgasm creeping away from you.

you looked up at him, low key pissed to see him bopping along to what is love. no, not twice's what is love, unfortunately. the corny, meme-worthy, 90s what is love by haddaway.

"baby, don't hurt me," he sang teasingly, "don't hurt me, no more,"

you glowered at him from underneath him. "i was so close," you grumbled, slapping him lightly on the arm. he gasped in mock indignation, lifting an arm to his forehead as if he were about to faint.

"you hurt me!" he said dramatically, "after i specifically told you not to!"

needless to say, no one orgasms that night.

𝐣 𝐚 𝐞 𝐡 𝐲 𝐮 𝐧

jaehyun's ability to reduce you to a moaning mess during sex never failed to impress you.

what did fail, though, was his reaction to the law and order: svu theme song playing while you were sucking him off. you were on your knees, bobbing your head along his dick and digging your nails into the defined v-line of his hipbones when the distinct first notes of the tv show's theme song interrupted his deep groans of satisfaction.

"law and order?" he says with a breathy chuckle, "man, my mom loves that show."

you pull off a second later, looking a bit perplexed. "please, don't ever, ever mention your mom while i'm sucking your dick again."

his smile falls. "shit, i made it weird, didn't i?"

"no shit."

the next time jaehyun's mom swings by your shared apartment for a visit, she's a bit confused as to why neither of you can hold eye contact for more than five seconds.

𝐣 𝐮 𝐧 𝐠 𝐰 𝐨 𝐨

you don't know what to say. one minute you're clinging to your boyfriend, whimpering into his ear as he hits a spot that has you seeing stars. your eyes are screwed shut and your hips are bucking against his as you cry out his name.

then, axel f (known to most as crazy frog) blares through the speaker, and the both of you stop moving as you're both reminded of the badly animated, obnoxious, purple frog from the music video.

you stare at jungwoo, whose sour expression matches yours. he meets your gaze, and seconds later, the two of you are cracking up at the continuous "ding! ding!" noises coming from the song.

"this was a horrible idea," he mumbles, and you nod in agreement. "you don't say."

he gets up and turns off the music, and somehow, you both manage to finish without thinking about it.

but then jungwoo boops your nose twice while the two of you are cuddling and goes, "ding, ding," and you both promptly lose your shit again.

𝐦 𝐚 𝐫 𝐤

your thighs are starting to burn, but you don't care. you ride mark like you have something to prove, doing your best to ignore the obnoxious playlist in the background.

mark is having the time of his life, groaning loudly, eyes screwed shut, head fallen back against the pillows and gripping your hips while he ruts up into you.

then the previous song ends, and suddenly the next song starts with an exciting swell of violins, and the next thing you know, you hear a choir sing, "o canada, our home and native land..."

mark's eyes snap open and he freezes inside of you at the realization. you stare at him for a few moments and somehow, just by the sound of the canadian national anthem, you literally feel mark's dick start to go soft inside of you.

your face morphs from confusion, then horror, and finally, dissatisfaction.

you flop down next to mark, and turn to face him.

"you okay?" you ask, and try your best not to laugh when mark turns a deep shade of red.

"let's never mention this again."

𝐡 𝐚 𝐞 𝐜 𝐡 𝐚 𝐧

good god, donghyuck doesn't even make it past the first song.

see, he pounces on you before you can press shuffle, pressing needy kisses against your mouth. you kiss him back for a few moments, moaning when he slips his tongue into your mouth.

when he pulls you into his lap to grind against him, you pull away and giggle. "hyuck, aren't we gonna listen to the music?"

"huh? oh yeah, baby, sorry. just press play."

you do, meeting donghyuck's eyes as you wait for the first song to play, and you both jump when a loud, raspy voice yells, "i'm a goofy goober! ROCK!"

You purse your lips, wondering whether to laugh or not. you look at hyuck, who is trying to hold back laughter as goofy goober rock continues to ruin the mood.

"so..."

"i changed my mind," donghyuck says, probably thinking of spongebob, "i don't wanna do this anymore."

so, you find an easier solution. you turn off the music, and awkwardly cuddle for the rest of the night, occasionally breaking into fits of laughter at the absurdity of having almost fucked to spongebob music.

111 notes · View notes

sleepdeprivedheretic · 4 years

Text

Restrained

Notes: I have no excuse, I just want a crack fic with smut treated seriously with Tai-chan to step on me the reader while looking down cockily. Humor, angst, fluff, splashed with pining dust :’) Also, I love Linkin Park.

Setting: Reader-chan is a villain and is terrible at being one, cue ongoing physical and snark battles with Tai-chan.

Warnings: Kinky Smut (So here’s what my unacknowledged, vanilla self, has tried to write and nobody has to read it but it’s here in the story: Dirty talk, safe words, possessiveness, edging, talk about inexperience, handcuffs, breeding kink, unsafe sex, Tai’s mean and leaves the reader unattended, but he feels bad afterwards, lube, somehow there’s vanilla, and fluff) and my weak emotions for Good Boys.

……….

You didn’t exactly chose the Villain life, it basically chose you. Cue your dad’s maniacal laughter, your mother’s evil smirks and her ways of teaching you how to go for the jugular since you were five...wasn’t the most heroic childhood. You grew up distant away from others, living life learning how to avoid the law and training heavily to avoid losing a fight, your parents seemed to take that as a green-light and pushed you into the family business. Not like you could fight it, anyway. You were an outcast from day one, and had no close friends.

That being said, you didn’t really like hurting other people or doing typical villainy stuff, but you liked fighting. It gave you a feeling of pushing all of your aggression and bottled up anger onto somebody without killing them, whether it be heroes, vigilantes, or hell, other villains. It wasn’t healthy, but you had nothing else, really.

Cue in the physical form of your recent excitement, the BMI hero who resembled a matryoshka doll and was kinda cute in his big form, no lie. The two of you had met near his agency with Sakura petals floating along with the breeze, and honestly it reminded you of a shojo manga. Well, him minding his own business until he’d seen your pathetic attempts at shoplifting.

He was there for a fight, and at first you overestimated him, thinking that he would go down quickly, but you were wrong. So wrong. You weren’t the best of the villains, but you held your ground, the both of you panting and sweaty and for the first time, you liked fighting against a hero.

Of course being a self-called villain full of dirty tricks up your sleeve, you were good at vanishing, leaving him to shout curses at you, but you didn’t care. From then on out, the two of you would continue ironically meeting in places. It was either you stumbling into him walking around town, eating Takoyaki, or him catching you...not doing anything villainous because you sucked at it, but you know, it’s the thought that counts.

Then the snark happened.

“Where did you get your hero outfit? From the thrift store?” You quipped.

“As in a matter of fact, I did. Saw yer mom there buyin’ old man’s underwear, Sweetheart.”

Kami help you.

“You don’t even know my mom! But yeah, she’d probably do that.” You answered.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, she’s kind of weird.”

You weren’t on the top of the villain lists (or if you were on the list), but you were good at holding your ground, and he seemed to know of you, and thus seemed as if he was always making plans to run into you. You were no better. You had gotten into the habit of causing small trouble around his agency, and your battles were always lengthy, full of snark, and you admit you kind of liked to feel him push you against a brick building, leering down at you before the whole thing started.

Anyway, you’ve always managed to either escape or he’d just throw up his hands and turn and walk away in a frustrated huff, like that one time you fell flat on your face, accidentally dodging his spear-formed punch. It was one time, but he didn’t let you live it down, asking about your nose.

Oddly enough, the other pro-heroes, Miruko and Hawks, would just glance at you, sigh and then leave, muttering something about idiots, Eraserhead would just guide the children away from the two of you with a blank look, and Endeavor would just avoid the two of your messy fights altogether, opting that he ironically wasn’t going to deal with “an old married couple”. Whatever that meant.

It didn’t stop smaller, weaker heroes from trying, though. Trying to be hotshots and bring you in. Of course, they failed. You didn’t listen to Linkin Park while training your ass out in the cold rain just to be brought down by some punks.

Tai-chan, or what you’ve become calling him (thanks for Hawks just silently handing you a paper with his name on it, the absolute Wing-man), noticed. Although he was a hero and didn’t dissuade the young ones from chasing after villains, he did basically say that anybody around his area was his to battle. It melted your heart, a little.

It didn’t stop the two of your bantering and bickering, or sometimes he’d say something, trying to be serious but it comes out as silly, that you couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles and he’d get flustered, having a cute blush that you couldn’t help but just eat up.

It was like an odd addiction, you wanted to see more of him, even though it was through unhealthy things such as your fights, you wanted to hear more corny catchphrases, see his eye twitch of annoyance (you were a little shit), and finally, the both of you panting in defeat as he angrily munched on Takoyaki, snarling as you stole one, but let you have it, and so on.

You weren’t sure if you were becoming an unhealthy masochist, or you just really liked him. Perhaps both, because your heart would flutter every time you see him smile around his sidekicks from afar, and then clench because you were so far gone into the life of a villain, you knew that you could never have that life. Be a hero, or have him at least as a friend.

Such sad thoughts did plague you, and it must have shown through, because you would halfheartedly remark to his commentary or sometimes, you just wouldn’t show up for a day. He noticed. He was keen like that, and so to your surprise, he would take your fights more seriously, as if trying to keep you there, not letting you keep running away.

Honestly, it was a little sweet, but your poor heart was getting confused at your little game, and didn’t know how to honestly feel for him.

Of course, everything must come to an end, doesn’t it?

He was leering down at you with a cocky smirk, clothes ruined, showing off whatever he had, a boot stepping onto your chest, rain soaking through his soft hair and splattering your cheeks. An odd feeling came over you. Something you weren’t familiar with, but through your mask, you felt that it was safe to just take a mental picture and burn it forever within your brain.

The fight was different. You were sick all week with the common cold, and when you returned from your little hibernation, weird gossip and rumors were littering about near the FatGum Agency. It was either you left him because you were getting bored, or you had found another hero to play with, or you were finally caught. Whatever it was, he seemed to be excited, relieved(?), and at the same time furious to see you. He demanded where have you been, and feeling increasingly snarky and not sure what to feel with your pining dumbass heart, you retaliated that you were on a vacation from his stupidity.

Yeah, you lost.

“Finally caught ya.” His voice rasped out and hot damn did that not help with the odd searing warmth churning within your guts. The feeling of losing always frightened you, for you weren’t sure whether or not your family would actually give a damn. Yet, you felt elated and calm. It was over, he could finally call the shots, and you could just sit in a jail cell and atone for whatever petty crimes you committed.

“So you have. How’s the weather up there, you giraffe?” You couldn’t help but ask, and the boot on your chest pressed a tiny bit down in annoyance, but he made sure that you weren’t hurting.

“Just fine. I think I stepped in shit, though.”

You couldn’t help it. You began laughing, and to your astonishment, he did, too.

“I missed ya.” He admitted as the both of you calmed down. That surprised you.

“I thought you hated me?”

He gave you a look.

“You’re annoying, and persistent, but not evil. Like a flea, you keep on bouncin’ back up, and I can’t help but not dislike ya.” The words sent a warm tingling up your spine, and you found yourself smiling softly.

“I couldn’t hate you either, you know. You’re the only one,” You swallowed, and the continued as his eyes now focused onto yours. “who I can freely just be myself around with.”

“Whaddya mean?” The tone was softer, now, but ever so curious. Well, it’s a good time as any to release your tragic backstory while in the drizzling rain.

“My parents are both villains, and so I was raised as one. I could never be friends with heroes, or really anybody. I could never dream to be a hero, because of my background. It’s shady from the start, who in their right mind would pick a hero who could just end up being like their parents?”

The words tumbled out of you, feeling the metaphorical weight be lifted off from your chest, as the rain quickened it’s pace. An uncomfortable silence washed over the two of you, and already you were regretting the word vomit that had just spilled out of your mouth. You said too much, you cringed inwardly. You should have just kept your mouth shut, now he’s going to pity you-

“You know what? Fuck it.” Your eyes widened with shock and confusion as the so-called “DadGum” had just said one of the worst bad words.

“Did you just-”

“Your parents can jump into the nearest jail-cell. You,” His eyes glinted with an unknown darkness that set your insides ablaze. “have two options. Either you can platonically become a hero-in-training and live with me, or you can be mine. My hero-in-training, my roommate, my lover, just, mine.” He put an emphasize on the word, and your face flushed despite the chilly autumn rain.

You would be surprised, but you oddly weren’t. Endeavor was right, the two of you were basically an old married couple, bickering and bantering, always staring at each other when one was sure the other wasn’t looking.

“Alright. I’d like us to try...um...being more than...rivals?” You stammered. He cocked an eyebrow.

“I didn’ just pour my heart out for ya so ya can deliver that. Try a lil’ harder.” He scoffed.

“Fine, fine! I..I like you too-”

“Love.”

“Love, you too! I just...I dunno, always wanted to find an excuse to just be around you.”

“That’s sweet, an’ I love ya too, Sugarplum, but ya weren’t here for a whole week-

“I was sick with the common cold!”

“N’ then these shitty rumors started-

“Don’t act as if that’s my fault!”

“So I’m feelin’ a lil’ snappy an’ hungry today, but not for food.” He humored you.

“What does that mean?” You tested the waters, knowing the truth, already. He took his boot off of you, crouching down to give you a predatory smile.

“I won’ touch ya unless ya beg me, but our lil’ cat’n’mouse games have had me riled up, for a very, very long time.” He leaned in and whispered in your ear, and you couldn’t help but swallow thickly with want as he continued.

“N’ now we’ve discussed our feelin’s, I’m all just wantin’ to tie you to my bed.” He finished as he continued leering at you as if you were the sheep, and him the wolf. You didn’t blame him, you’ve been wanting this, too. It was a little fast paced, but several months of mutual pining would probably do that to you.

“I mean, at least take me out to dinner, first.” You tried to joke. He just shrugged.

“Done.”

“What? I’m a villain! My family are villains!” You tried to argue. He gave a smile mixed in with a humorous look.

“Villain? Last time I checked, starin’ at candy from the hand of a baby, isn’t puttin’ ya on any wanted list. You’re mine, now. Doesn’t matter what yer shitty family thinks. I’ll fight’em, too.” The sentence made your heart swell, feelings of joy and acceptance fluttered within your for the first time in a long time, and you let yourself give a warm smile. His eyes softened, as he helped pull you up to your feet, letting you lean against him as you maintained your balance.

“Alright. We...we can just be a normal couple? How does this even work?” You tried out. He glanced at you.

“Yeah, we’re goin’ to jus’ be a normal couple. Well, you’re gonna train with me, so that we can eventually get ya a license. N’ you’re gonna kick your parent’s asses, not as a villain or a civilian, but as a hero.” He started off softly, but then a more rambunctious grin took over his face at the prospect, and to be honest, you felt like that was a good idea, spitting everything that they’ve taught you, back in their faces as you live life the way you want it, with your partner, of course.

Speaking of which.

“So...we’re just going to continue getting soaked?” You asked, trying to keep yourself from shuddering.

“Yeah, but not in the rain. C’mon, my place.” He gruffed, and you found yourself eagerly nodding.

You weren’t sure how this happened so fast. First you entered his apartment, shivering, then he said that your clothes needed to be washed, aaaaand you were here, on his bed, naked, chilled, and your hands completely cuffed to the post as he was staring at you with such a dirty, hungry look, you felt thrilled by it.

“You want this? Say no an’ we’ll stop.” He offered one last time.

“I want this.” You admitted, and he gave off an almost predatory grin as you watched in amazement of him shucking off his clothes at the pace of the speed of light. Hot damn, he was huge, and beautiful. He grinned at your unabashed stare, crawling towards you on the king-sized bed, opening your legs as he slotted himself between them.

“So pretty, and wet.” He chuckled, giving you little time to think as his thumb swiped at your leaking opening, causing you to gasp.

“I think that I’m gonna eat you out.” Was the only warning you were given as your legs were pulled further apart, and the next thing you knew, he was on you. Your hands jerked against the fuzzy handcuffs as you felt him licking long, hot, and wet stripes from your opening, to your clit. You couldn’t help but mewl as you subconsciously fought against your restraints, thighs trying to clench around him as he gripped them, keeping them apart as he suckled at your clit.

You felt helpless as he was giving you such an intense and dark stare while he was driving you to the edge, gauging your teary-eyed reaction while you bit your lips, hands squeezing onto thin air as you felt yourself getting closer and closer, hips bucking wildly.

Then, he stopped, and you growled into a pitiful whine, causing him to laugh.

“How does it feel, causin’ others to wait?”

You huffed. He seriously couldn’t be that petty!

“Common. Cold.” You let out a hiss, and he gave you an unimpressed stare.

“Are ya givin’ me an attitude?” Was a warning.

“Yeah, I am!” Like a bull, you ran right into that red flag. He grinned, a little darkly. It honestly would’ve scared you a little, if you weren’t so turned on.

“Yer still a lil’ too feisty. As much as I love it, I ‘ave other plans in mind.” He gave a false pout, and your stomach churned with awaited excitement in what he was going to do, next.

“I’ll be back. I’m going to the store. Be good, okay?” He gave your surprised look a dark smirk, and you couldn’t help but growl. The audacity! You loved him, but the audacity! You couldn’t help but look on with bewilderment as he gotten dressed, opening and closing the bedroom door shut as he left you all alone and tied up.

You waited for what seemed forever, pissed off and bored out of your mind as you felt increasingly cold and still wet. You refused to cry. He said he’d be back, didn’t he? Then why do you feel so helpless and lonesome. You felt tears shed with relief and frustration as he finally opened the door to the bedroom, black bag in hand.

“Bastard!” You hissed, and he eyed you with a sympathetic expression mixed in with a little guilt. He got undressed and set the bag next to the two of you, crawling towards you and wiped away the wetness on your cheeks, kissing them and your mouth as he held a gentler expression. He held your chilled frame against his too warm one, nuzzling you as he soothed your ruffled feathers.

“I know, Darlin’. I’ll make it all better for you, I promise.” He kissed your nose as he gathered the blankets to surround your skin, still letting you be exposed, but at least you’ll be a little warmer.

“Do you wanna continue?”

“Yes.” You said without hesitation, feeling relieved after seeing his softer side, and still wanting release, and received a wet, dirty kiss. You moaned into it, feeling his hands rub your breasts, squeezing them rather roughly as he toyed with the nubs with his roughed up hands. He broke away too soon, leaving the two of you panting as his dark, feral look returned as he eyed you.

“Bought you a lil’ somethin’.” He turned away, rummaging through the bag. You eyed it wearily, hoping that he didn’t go too crazy. He pulled out a bottle of strawberry lube, that was good, and...your face flushed.

“Ever used these, before?” He held out the little vibrating bullets for you to see. You shook your head, and he chuckled.

“You’re very vanilla, ain’t you?”

“I-I…” You stuttered, but he kissed your forehead.

“What’s yer safe word?” He asked. Safe word? Why couldn’t the two of you have a normal first time, together? You thought about it.

“Grapes.”

“Why that word?”

“I hate them.” You shrugged.

“Fair enough. Alright, let’s get started.” He said lowly, opening the lube and bullets. He added some of the lube onto the bullets, attaching one bullet to your clit, and the other to your nipple with little pieces of tape. Yeah, you were confused, too, but he didn’t pay you any mind as he set the controller to both bullets to the side, flipping the switch to a low setting.

You let out a choked whimper as your clit was being stimulated, him leaning forward and enjoying the view of your wetness drenching the sheets.

“Such an eager slut.” He bit out almost darkly as his fingers spread open your labia.

“’M notta slut!” You protested, but it was on deaf ears as he had something else in mind. He generously poured a dime amount of lube onto his fingers, grinning down at you as the strawberry scent floated nicely in the room, mixing in with your own scent of arousal. You almost jolted as his lubed up fingers prodded the tight muscle to your vaginal entrance.

“Damn, relax, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” He murmured, and through your lust-fogged brain, you wondered if anybody else knew about this side of “Dad-gum”. Although having a rough demeanor, he was gently opening you up, and you felt warmth blossom in your chest at the extra attention that he was giving you, glancing at you from time to time to see if you were alright.

You were more than fine. Five fingers deep, and a higher setting to the mini bullets, you were very close to coming. You rocked your hips in a desperate fashion, hands clenched tightly as the fuzz to the handcuffs prevented you from hurting yourself.

“You gonna cum?” He leered.

“Yes!” You bit out, and your stomach fluttered with excitement mixed with dread at that dark chuckle.

“Not yet.” He switched the vibrator off, and you swore you could hear yourself huff into an annoyed growl. Tears of frustration threatened to spill, and he gave another sympathetic look. You swore that he was mocking you.

“It’s okay, alright? I’ll give you what ya want.” He kissed your eyes, holding your frame close to him as he then rubbed his cheek against yours.

“Patience, Baby. I’m hurtin’ too. Right now, let’s let ya cool down while I mark up this pretty skin of yours, alright?” He kissed you gently, and you were now aware of his own need. It was swollen and looked angry as precum was headily dripping onto the sheets. It twitched as you realized that he knew that you were staring. You licked your lips and he groaned with want.

“See? Hurtin.”. He then continued to do as he promised, kissing you slowly as his hands rubbed against your skin, squeezing here and there as your hands itched to touch him. He paid your whining no heed as he licked at the juncture at your neck, biting it harshly, suckling at the blossoming bruise as his dick twitched at your wanton whine and buck of hips. He kissed the spot gingerly, eyeing your debauched frame with greed as he lowered his mouth to another spot.

“Damned young punks, trying to bring you in. They should know better. You’re in my territory.” Bite. You winced, but keened with need as he lathered the blossoming bruises with gentle kisses.

“Every inch of you is mine.” His eyes glittered almost darkly as he tore away from his work. Oh yes, you were looking nice. He didn’t do too much, but the love bites he imprinted onto your neck and clavicle helped soothe the possessive ache that he had. He knew that you wanted to touch him, too, and was thrilled at the aspect.

“You wanna touch?” He prodded. You keened into a hurried nod, not caring about your pride.

“Please.” What a cute sound, how could he refuse? He relented, and you were on him. It felt as if he was guiding you, letting your hands roam, doing your own squeezing at his stomach, biceps, and pecs while you kissed him feverishly. He basked in your attention, letting you claim your prize for being such a wonderful and patient Sweetheart. Of course he kept you from touching his dick, promising that another time, definitely, so you relented in favoring of returning his little marking game.

He swore he could come untouched by your less rough touch, eyeing him to see if he acknowledged that you were doing a good job, to which he couldn’t help but find that adorable, as well.

“You’re so good for me. So patient and sweet. I’m going to breed you, now. Would you like that?” He hummed, and you swore that your brain stopped and your core clenched with need. One sentence should not sound that hot, but it did.

“Yes. I would like that.” You answered a little too gently, and he hummed with approval, kissing you.

“If you don’t, remember that we don’t hafta do anything that you don’t wanna do. Remember your safe word?” He inquired, you nodded and told him.

“Good. You wanna be bred n’ dirty-talked? I gotcha some Plan B at the store, didn’t really think about condoms. Is that fine?”

You nodded, telling him that you liked both ideas. To be honest, you didn’t mind being marked up in such a way. Not with your pent up lust and feelings of love towards this sadistic Himbo of a man.

“Lie on yer back. I wanna see ya.” He growled out, and you hastily complied.

“Now, tell me, how experienced are ya, really? Not hard to notice that you seem to be learnin’ a few things.” He gave you look in which you couldn’t decipher.

“It’s dumb.”

“No it ain’t. Doesn’t matter to me if ya have history.” He kissed your knee softly as his expression gentled, and you felt yourself relax.

“Your possessiveness says otherwise.” You tried.

“’Cause they’ve been houndin’ around what’s been mine in my territory. Your earlier experiences don’t count. You’re mine, now, and I’m planning on keepin’ it that way.” He smoothed your leg gently despite the dark edge in his tone of words. Really, you feel elated.

“So no judgment?” You inquired.

“None.” He promised. You believed him. Feeling a bit more braver and relaxed, you could trust him with your secrets. You didn’t know a way how to make it less cringe-worthy to admit, but you wanted to tell him, anyway.

“I never really had to time or opportunity.” You found yourself saying, and that’s all he needed to hear.

His eyes flashed into something that you couldn’t decipher, but it didn’t matter. He wan onto you, kissing you slowly yet frequently, retouching every place where he could reach with a more gentle approach.

“Don’t make a kink out of it.” You groaned. He chuckled lowly.

“Why not? Ya get to do this, once.”

“It’s a social construct, and dumb. It’s not like my personality is magically going to change after having something within me.”

“I agree completely, Dearest, but I find it endearin’ and sweet that you’re willing to share this with me.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” You huffed out softly.

“Might be, but my dick’s trying to convince itself to do the thinkin’.”

“Maybe you should let it, then.” You prodded, and he then gave you a dark grin.

“As ya wish. Don’t forget yer safe word.” Was the only warning you had.

You were already loosened and wet, and although his actions resembled of that like an animal as he kissed you with fervor and biting some new areas, he was gentle when he decided that it was time for the main course. Coating himself with a generous amount of cold lube, he hissed as he turned on the bullet vibrators, letting you get stimulated as he breached your vaginal opening, teasing and prodding the muscle as it opened up for him.

You felt the hot, thick head of his dick slip inside with little to no restraint, surprising you as your legs widened further, allowing him to sink in further. He was big, and your walls had to stretch to accommodate him, but you wanted it so damned badly. It hurt so good, you thought. There was a little pain, but the delicious stretch heavily outweighed it, and it reached places that you didn’t know that just needed to be itched.

Hot damn, did you feel stuffed.

“How are ya?” He then asked, and then you realized that he was fully seated inside, and you could tell that he was desperate and hot as you were.

“If you stop this time, I might actually kill you.” Your threat was light, but he swallowed thickly at the intensity of your stare and heated gaze of want.

“Good?”

“Wonderful. Move.” You all but demanded, but he eagerly complied, letting your too-tight walls massage him.

“Fuck! So tight. Might keep ya like this, re-tie ya to my bed. Fuck ya full n’ heavy.” He couldn’t help but growl out the words, being rewarded with the tightened clench of your walls.

“Ya like that? Bein’ my personal cocksleeve? Belly round n’ breasts heavy with milk?” His movements jerked faster as he squeezed your breast that didn’t have the bullet pleasantly buzzing against it. You couldn’t help but nod, arousal dripping onto the sheets as the bullet roughly buzzed against your clit, the both of you feeling the painful aching need for release. His hips were all but snapping to meet your thrusts, balls slapping against your ass, as he engaged you into a filthy kiss as the lewd sounds and scents echoed and filtered within the walls.

Your head felt light and the both of you were covered in a sheen of sweat, he opted to weave his hand into yours, holding it rather almost gently as he moved as if a man possessed. Yours hit first, gripping you and clenching you out of nowhere as you let out his name in a frantic shout, clutching onto him ever so tightly as your head fogged into a sharp relief that left you into tears from finally able to cum. He was no better, hips faltering as he felt you embrace your own orgasm, causing his mind to almost go blank as the movement of his hips bucked into a frantic state. He huffed out, calling out to you as he held onto you tightly, anchoring the both of you into a freight train of orgasmic bliss.

You whimpered out your oversensitive clit and breast, hitting the damned power button to those little bullets as you came down from your high. Taishiro collapsed next to you as the both of you were panting, trying to catch your breaths. You were so drowsy, but you really didn’t want to sleep in your own spunk and messes.

“Dirty.” You whined, and he laughed, kissing you.

“Let’s get cleaned up, then. Know ya don’t wanna, but you could seriously get an UTI if ya don’t use the bathroom.” You agreed, tearing off the bullets, and pulling your weakened state up to use the bathroom as he decided to lazily change the sheets, throwing the used sheets, toys, and the black bag in the corner, somewhere. He would deal with that, later.

He caught you as you stumbled into him from coming out of the bathroom. Gently, he maneuvered you to where you were snuggled up against him, a heavy blanket re-warming up your cooling skin as he hummed, gently playing with your hair as he kissed you softly.

“Ya good?”

“Tired n’ fine.” You mumbled, peeking up to look at him. He smiled gently.

“I looooove you.” He singsonged, earning him your own gentle smile and a soft kiss.

“I love you, too. Go to sleep.” You playfully griped at the last part, and he chuckled in compliance.

…………..

Bonus: Yeah your parents were pissed, but you were a hero, and their opinions didn’t really count, anymore. They knew your potential, so they cleared away from you as you and your fiance moved into a safer city. End.

……….

Here’s my poor attempt at being more versatile in writing kinky smut. Hope it’s not too much cringe, I’m usually too vanilla :’)

#Taishiro Toyomitsu x reader #Taishiro Toyomitsu #Fatgum #Fatgum x reader #I mean #I tried #It's fun kinky adult times at the end #Don't @ me #Heed the warning sigils that I've placed #trash but my trash that you're welcomed to #Welcome to my hut

79 notes · View notes

bapyess1r · 4 years

Text

Amphetamine

WARNINGS: use of substance, alcohol, difference in ages, cursing

INTRO

“Florida fucking sucks….” Marcel stated plainly, taking a long drag of his joint, holding out for me to take. He rubbed his calloused fingers over his close cut hair before gently gliding them over the strings of the bass in his lap. I could hear the static in the speaker and a singular fat bass note. I ash my cigarette in the dirty crystal ashtray before picking up the joint for a small hit, immediately passing it to the piano player, Jules. She played a few random chords and took a sip from her wine glass.

“I think you just miss your boyfriend.” She chuckled taking a long drag from the shared joint.

“T.B.H so do I….” Our drummer Louie whined, letting a stick hit the snare with no particular rhythm whatsoever. I was confused...as hell.

“I’m sorry- boyfriend?” I said in a shocked tone.

“Shut up guys- Talia. I am NOT- capital N. O. T- gay. He’s like my best friend and he’s away on a job.” Marcel retorted, defensively.

“Aye, I don’t judge.” I smirked.

“It’s nice that he left you the keys to the house so we could keep practicing in his absence though.” Louie said, standing up to add to the rotation of the smoke sesh. He took several puffs and held it in before passing it back to Marcel.

“THIS ISNT EVEN- this isn’t even your house??” I noticed how loudly I was speaking suddenly and hushed my voice trying my best to not annoy the neighbors anymore than we already had.

“Our guitarist we told you about. Sam Drake? He plays with us on his downtime when he’s not being Dora.” Jules said, filling me in as the men in our group chose not to elaborate. I pursed my lips to suppress what I thought was about to be the ugliest giggle and took a drag from my cigarette, looking out at the moonlit sky reflecting off the ocean behind the gating. Our neighbors boats rocking gently on the waves. “When do you think he’ll be back?” She asked.

“Honestly I don’t know. Anytime he leaves out for a job he’s gone for like a month or two.” Marcel replied, staring at the ceiling, performing his scales.

“Yo one time he was gone longer than that- like four months- and I thought something shitty happened to him.” Louie said, taking a sip of his beer.

“I remember that. I got a bad feeling and actually went to church for once to pray about it.” Jules sighed, taking a big gulp of her wine. I could tell it really worried the group when he left.

“How long has he been gone?” I asked, being new to the band and the neighborhood.

“Close to a month I think. I heard him mention something about this job not being as big as usual. Simple run.” Louie answered.

“What the hell does this guy do anyways?” I asked. I was genuinely curious.

“He says he’s a travelling historian and treasurer.” Marcel huffed.

“See… Dora the Explorer.” Jules nudged me in the ribs and I snorted lightly.

“I can’t wait till he hears you sing when he gets back though. He’s gonna lose shit. Black Velvet is gonna make him weak.” Marcel cheesed ridiculously as I blushed faintly at his compliment. The bud was definitely hitting him hard. ‘Lightweight.’ I thought with a turn of my lips.

As the blunt came my way once more, I took the final drag of my cigarette and tossed it somewhere random. I accepted the joint and sat on the speaker facing the group, the close quarters of the garage becoming smokey. “Speaking of, when’s the next time we play?”

“We perform every weekend from the garage for the neighborhood actually. All the old leather skinned white men and their wives come out beer and wine drunk and dance terribly.” He replied with a smirk.

“It’s AWESOME!” Louie added with a contagious goofy laugh. I looked at the bottle of whiskey and huffed, holding it up for everyone to see.

“You’re outta booze. Also I gotta pee.” I announced unnecessarily.

“Just grab a bottle outta freezer. And the bathroom is the first door on your right.” Marcel nodded his head in the direction of the keys that sat atop the heavy duty toolbox.

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” I asked. I just wanted to be safe.

“If he does, I’ll buy him a few rounds and a new bottle.” he answered nonchalantly.

“Okaaay….” I mouthed to myself as I maneuvered my way through the crowded garage, reaching for the keys.

I walked up the wooden steps and opened the door to a dark room. The faint scent of old cigarette smoke and cologne creeping through my nostrils. A wall of books from ceiling to floor appeared in the moonlight. Immediately my curiosity peaked but the slight sting in my bladder told me to go before anything else. I noticed the frames lining the hallway contained what looked like really old maps. ‘Madagascar, huh?’ I thought as I shuffled into the bathroom to quickly relieve myself. Afterwards, I very quickly washed my hands so I could grab the whiskey from the freezer in the kitchen when I tripped over something really hard. I squeaked in pain when I looked down to see a large oxygen tank like the kind they used to do deep sea diving. I shook it off but my toe still felt a bit sore. It could've been worse had I not been wearing boots. So onward to the kitchen I went, looking down now and then to make sure I didn’t trip over anything else. The space was built just like my Godfather’s across the street so it was easy to find. HOWEVER! As hard as I tried to not pay attention to the things in the living room, it was to no avail. I mean he wasn’t home so what harm could I really do? After a few seconds of a mental argument with Me, Myself, and I, I made a decision. “Fuck it. I’m doin’ it.” I muttered to myself as I slammed the freezer door closed. That’s when I noticed the square polaroid on the fridge of two children in a shogun helmet and a safari hat. ‘Maybe they’re his…’ I thought.

I followed the glass window to the wall of books and in between them what looked to be some strange artifacts. A skull with a corny pirates patch on it was being used as a bookend and I chuckled. “Cute.” I glanced around the living room and noticed the small box tv sitting ridiculously close to the couch and a few old gaming consoles and low and behold.... “Is that a goddamn VCR player???” I whispered to myself with a judgey scoff. ‘Jesus he needs an update…’ Not that they weren’t great systems but damn… On the coffee table were a few empty cigarette cartons and empty bottles of beer, a bit of ash dragged across it. A tall surfboard was stood in a corner by its lonesome. The walls were adorned with a couple of interesting things: an old liferaft, mounted pirate swords, some pictures of a group of people holding guns and stuff. “Kay...so he’s a tad obsessed with pirates…” On another wall was a mounted blue electric guitar and a beautiful oakwood acoustic. I ran my fingers across the strings as they made an odd sound. “Tune that shit man… well I guess he can't…” ‘He’s not home…’ There was also a massive map of the world posted on a pinboard with hundreds of tiny colorful pins sporadically placed. ‘Did he really go to all these places?’ I stared at it for a moment in sheer wonder before I brought my attention back to the book wall before me, the whiskey bottle in my hand beginning to sweat. My eyes widened at the titles as my fingers brushed the spines of each one, stopping when I reached an old globe. I drug my fingers across it, causing it to spin a little. I stopped on an encyclopedia of pirates and gently pulled it out. Tucking the wet bottle in my arm, I turned its pages. Some names highlighted, cliff notes off to the side of some passages. Some corners of the pages were bent as if to save a place. Honestly, it was amazing. The guy knew so much about-

“What the hell are you doin’?!” A deep irate voice sounded, startling me. The glass bottle fell from my arms shattering to the hardwood floor as I squealed.

#samuel drake #sam drake #sam drake x reader #sam drake smut #uncharted reader insert #uncharted x reader #samuel drake smut #uncharted 4 #uncharted #sam drake fanfiction

14 notes · View notes

yallreddieforthis · 5 years

Text

Impossible Things

Fandom: It Chapter Two, It (2017)

Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Rating: Explicit (in later chapters)

Words: 1.9k

Also on AO3

“What the fuck,” he mutters, trying his key one more time. His therapist always says he’s too quick to jump right to the doom and gloom. Maybe he didn’t get evicted all of a sudden. Maybe he just put the key in upside down or… Nope. His key straight up does not work.

And then suddenly the door swings open and Richie whacks him in the shoulder with a frying pan.

August 7, 2013 was the worst day of Eddie Kaspbrak’s life. He got dumped on a breakfast date by this guy he was kind of very into at the time, he totaled his brand-new Dodge Dart...by hitting a cop car, spilling iced coffee all over himself in the process. And that was just before work.

When he got to work, he was informed by fucking Claudia of all people that his favorite patient who was supposed to make a full fucking recovery had died during the overnight shift. He spent the rest of the day completing paperwork for his now-deceased buddy over in 44G, and playing a super fun game ferreting information back and forth between one of the endocrinologists--who was on a cruise with almost no reception--and her crazy bitch of a patient who insisted that Dr. Google told her she could cure her diabetes with a combination of like six essential oils and lemon juice. And also fighting over the phone with Marcus from Geico. Fuck Marcus from Geico and his manager Suzanne.

Anyway, yeah, that day was fucking nothing compared to this Saturday, when he went back to his shitty ass hometown, watched the first guy he ever loved die in his arms and then wiggled out the back door of a collapsing house containing all his childhood friends.

He’s pretty sure he hasn’t completely processed the awfulness of the whole thing yet. He’s done a decent amount of crying, but like… God, where to even begin? There’s literally no one alive who he can talk to about what he went through. The idea of keeping all this shit to himself for the rest of his life makes him want to consider pulling a Stan. Not that he ever would, actually. Because he’s a stubborn bitch, and when life tells him to go fuck himself, he usually just yells it right back.

Also he got stabbed in the fucking face by Henry Goddamn Bowers. And like, Ben did a decent job patching it up with gauze and superglue, but Eddie hauled ass to Urgent Care and got some actual stitches once he realized there was nothing else he could do at Neibolt. He’d been a fucking mess...like, crying and shit, but even in that state he could tell that the standard of care at Derry Clinic was subpar at best and he kept having to correct the NP who was sewing him up until she finally snapped and asked if he’d rather just do it himself. Actually, he normally would have preferred to, but his hands had been shaking too badly. He definitely plans to have it looked at by Dr. Lim, who will for sure know the best way to keep scarring to a minimum, as soon as he’s back at work.

Also, he was hoping that all the weird shit that had been going down with Pennywise and stuff would have fucking stopped after they killed It, but when he got back to the Derry Townhouse and went to get his shit from his room, there were three goddamn suitcases in there and he couldn’t figure out why. The first one had enough crap in it for like a three week trip, although the clothes weren’t all his. Also, the second one was filled with a bunch of pill bottles with his name on them for prescriptions Eddie has never needed, and his actual medication, amitriptyline, was not among them. But to be totally honest, by that point, he was so fucking tired and upset that he just kind of went fuck it and hauled everything into the back of a cab and got the fuck out of there.

And now he’s standing on the curb at LAX waiting for an Uber to take him back to his apartment in West Hollywood, where he can cry in private and maybe eat a pint of frozen yogurt from Whole Foods. Greek yogurt, of course, for the probiotics.

The first thing that strikes him as amiss back in LA is when he gets up to his apartment and there is a mat that says WELCOME TO THE SHITSHOW on it that he definitely did not buy in front of his apartment and his list of instructions for delivery men has been taken off his door.

Then he tries to open the door and his key doesn’t fit, which makes no fucking sense at all, unless Ms. Slavkin changed the locks while he was gone, which would be super illegal and also mean. Like, they’re on good terms, he thinks, especially since she barely speaks English and he knows exactly no Russian. They’ve never had a problem, though. His rent is always paid up on time. She brought him vatrushka two weeks ago and he referred her grandson for a volunteer position at Cedars Sinai over the summer. They’re good.

And then suddenly the door swings open and Richie whacks him in the shoulder with a frying pan.

“Ow! What the hell?”

Literally everything about what just happened is impossible though, because Richie is:

Dead. He died in Eddie’s arms under the Neibolt house less than 48 hours ago after telling him he fucked his mom one last time for good measure. Like...even while he was bleeding out he couldn’t… God. Anyway…

A resident of Illinois, last time Eddie checked. He even said some shit the other day about security at O'Hare. That’s… that’s the one in Chicago, right? It’s not LAX, Eddie knows that for sure.

Richie looks about as dumbfounded as Eddie feels. He does not apologize for hitting Eddie with a frying pan, although it’s not exactly cast iron. At best, it’s aluminum.

Which is another weird thing. Eddie uses exclusively cast iron or enamel cookware in his apartment because he’s not some kind of idiot sauteing his veggies in perfluorinated chemicals. The frying pan Richie is holding right now is undoubtedly riddled with BPA that would seep into his food and cause thyroid problems.

And honestly the only reason he’s probably getting hung up on that is that he expects Richie to disappear as soon as he blinks, because what the fuck would he actually be doing here. It’s going to hurt a lot more than that frying pan did when he evaporates, and Eddie’s going to feel like he lost him a second time.

Any second now.

Nothing else happens though, except that Richie manages to squeak out, “Eddie?”

And it’s corny to think, but it’s his voice that leaves no doubt in Eddie’s mind that it’s really him. Because Richie Tozier can sound like almost anybody in the world, but there’s no one that can sound like Richie. Even Pennywise never tried to imitate him. Because no one can. That, Eddie is sure of.

Dead is… Eddie is a nurse, and he’s no stranger to death. Richie was dead. No one could survive that kind of blood loss. But that also doesn’t change the fact that Richie is standing in front of him, in his apartment somehow, alive and breathing and miraculously free of giant holes in his chest. Also, this past weekend has had Eddie really rethinking his personal beliefs on what is and isn’t possible.

“Oh god, Richie—” Eddie reaches out and places a hand on Richie’s chest. Richie doesn’t stop him, but he also doesn’t react other than staring at Eddie’s hand, like he’s still unconvinced that Eddie is really Eddie.

Also he’s apparently speechless for the first time in his life.

“What the fuck,” he breathes out. His heartbeat is pounding beneath Eddie’s fingers. “I… we had to leave you. God, I tried to—”

“What?” Eddie interrupts him. “You died. Right in my arms, like, right in front of my fucking face and then you all got sucked into that pit and I—”

“What? No. Wh--wait. Wait wait wait. How did you find my apartment?” Richie demands.

“Uh, excuse me, this is my—”

But Eddie doesn’t finish that sentence because at that moment he looks past Richie into the living room and his point dies on the tip of his tongue. This is not his apartment. The doormat wasn’t lying. This is some kind of bachelor pad nightmare. One sofa, no art on the walls, a TV that’s too big for the room. Eddie glances up at the number on the door. Seven. It’s the right number, the outside of the place looks right…

“What did you do to my house?!” Eddie cries, because of course he’s happy Richie is alive—too happy to even process it properly—but he’s not going to pretend he won’t be pissed if Richie donated all of his good Pottery Barn furniture.

“Your— I live here, dipshit,” says Richie, apparently kind of snapping out of it. “I’ve lived here for like ten years.”

“You told me you lived in Chicago and—”

“Yeah,” says Richie. “Well, like kind of. I have an apartment there, usually sublet it. Didn’t think I needed to get into my whole real estate history, cause it’s not like we had bigger things to worry about.”

“Just—”

“You know what?” says Richie. “Just fucking come in. Let’s...can you call Mike?”

“Mike isn’t dead either?!” Eddie cries. What--How--

“Of course not,” says Richie. “I mean he better not be, I’ve been texting him all day.”

Eddie takes his phone out of his pocket and goes to his recent call history. He taps on the Derry number that called him the other day, back in another fucking lifetime, while rolling his suitcase into this like sham of an apartment that apparently Richie lives in.

We’re sorry, your call cannot be completed as dialed…

“You try Mike,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “My phone says his number is disconnected.”

Richie is texting furiously. He sinks down into the couch.

“Does that thing have like bed bugs?” Eddie asks, because the couch looks kind of suspect if he’s being honest. Like the kind of thing Richie might have dragged in off the sidewalk.

Richie makes a face. “No, what the fuck, of course not.”

Eddie sits down next to him on the edge of his seat, still not entirely convinced about the bed bug situation.

“I’m gonna FaceTime Mike, cause…” Richie shakes his head. “Fuck, I don’t know. Mike’s the crazy bitch with all the answers, right?”

Richie then does something kind of un-Richie-ish. He turns to the side and drops his head on Eddie’s shoulder, inhaling shakily and deeply. It’s then that Eddie notices his coffee table is littered with tissues.

“What?” Eddie asks him. He gets the distinct impression that Richie is about to cry, maybe, which is terrifying. And that’s stupid because Eddie works in a goddamn hospital. He deals with crying people every day. But there’s something about being around Richie that just… He feels like they’ve fallen back into the dynamic they had when they were kids. And teenage Eddie wouldn’t have known how to deal with Richie crying and so adult Eddie is kind of panicking over the thought of trying to figure that shit out on the fly.

If Richie starts crying, Eddie probably will too. This situation is… Honestly, it’s super overwhelming. He doesn’t feel equipped to deal with this fuckery.

Just then though, Mike picks up. Like a flash, Richie lifts his head up off Eddie’s shoulder and shoots Mike a shit-eating grin.

“Explain this shit, Mikey,” he says, and turns the screen to face Eddie.

Mike immediately drops his phone.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it chapter two #my fics #impossible things fic #fanfic #losers club #it chapter two spoilers

181 notes · View notes

raywritesthings · 4 years

Text

Fade In, Fade Out: Coda

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Earth-2 Laurel Lance, Earth-2 Oliver Queen Pairing: Earth-2 Laurel Lance/Earth-2 Oliver Queen Summary: Now that Black Siren has brought back her doppelganger, there's not much left for her to do on Earth-1 or Earth-2. The multiverse provides an alternative. A follow-up to Fade In, Fade Out. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

She was kind of pissed off about it, actually.

Laurel had kept an eye and ear out for any Star City news, just in case Diaz had had men follow her or realized her deception in restoring her doppelganger to the world. But she’d barely gotten through more than five articles at a computer terminal in Mumbai before coming across a headline detailing the capture of Ricardo Diaz by federal agents after a building collapse.

A building collapse. She had just… walked right in there and done it? Ugh, other her was so perfect it was sickening.

A few tabloid-style publications had picked up the story that Felicity Smoak had moved out of the city as well, and that Oliver Queen seemed to be spending a lot more time with his old flame instead. Laurel decided to stop paying attention to the Star City news after that. The her from this Earth could go on and have her perfect life with her living dad and Oliver. It didn’t matter to her. They’d never been hers to begin with, no matter their lame and halting entreaties to the contrary.

But where did that leave her on this Earth?

She laid low for a while, on the move constantly. She stole only what she needed to survive, because anything bigger would get her noticed. By the authorities or by the next strongman to come into her life. She was so sick of being the bitch on a leash for one of them. Maybe she was just getting old, but she was so tired of it all. It wasn’t fun. It just sucked.

What if she could have been the good girl, the hero like her other self? It wouldn’t have worked here; she’d burned too many bridges, pissed off too many people. She kept expecting Dinah Drake to jump out of the shadows with some corny line about how she was putting her down for good. And she hadn’t even wanted to kill Vince.

Home would be no better. Assuming she could even explain where she had disappeared to for two years, people had seen her face while fighting for Zoom. She’d be rounded up and tossed in a cell, though at least that would hopefully mean regular meals. In either direction, she was facing a pretty meager existence.

It was these thoughts that had her sprawled across the crap mattress of a cheap motel one morning, too unmotivated to bother getting up, when the wall beside her bed suddenly rippled with bright light. Laurel rolled off the bed and stood in one fluid movement, reaching for the gun that she’d stored in the bedside table, but she stopped when a man stepped out of it.

“Oh, it’s you.”

“Yes, it is me,” said Oliver. He was dressed in jeans, a sweater and jacket and had boots on that would be suited for hiking. Must’ve been a day off from all the politicking.

“Okay, what are you doing here? I gave you your bird back, what more do you want?”

But he shook his head, a smile blooming on his face as he slowly walked around the bed. “No, Laurel, it’s me.” He reached out to cup her face. “It’s Ollie.”

His eyes were different, his voice, and it was calling back to her through the years.

She froze. “Ollie? That’s not — you’re dead.”

“I’m not. I should’ve been, but then…”

“Then what?” She stepped back, ripping out of his hold. “If this is some kind of trick, so help me—”

“It’s not, I’m just trying to find the right words,” he said, one hand raised in the air palm-up. “I was going to drown, but then I was saved by… well, basically some kind of god. His name’s Novu.”

“What?” Her face scrunched up. That wasn’t even a name.

“He’s also called the Monitor. And his job is to stop this thing called Crisis that’s coming for all the Earths. Since I was supposed to die, that made me the perfect candidate to be his agent of sorts. I’ve been traveling the multiverse, helping prepare the heroes on each one for Crisis.”

“So, you’ve been out there this whole time,” Laurel began, struggling to wrap her head around this. “And you never once thought it might be nice to tell me you weren’t dead?”

“I know.” He hung his head. “I haven’t been to Earth 2 in over ten years. I didn’t know what was happening back home. Believe me, I was not happy with Novu when he finally told me some of what you’d been through.”

“You mean what I’ve done.” She looked down, her eyes feeling hot and heavy with tears that threatened to spill. Laurel had always told herself that at least her Ollie had never had to find out what she’d become over the years, and now he was here, telling her he knew? How could he even look at her?

“A lot of what you have done is survive. You’ve been so alone, Laurel, and how were you going to decide to be some kind of hero if you had nothing to fight for?” He was approaching her more slowly this time, giving her plenty of opportunity to back away again. “Not everything I’ve done for Novu would be called heroic, either. But I know you, and I know you can turn over a new leaf if someone gives you the chance.”

“My doppelganger’s dad gave me one, and I ditched,” she pointed out.

“After bringing his daughter back to life. And really, Laurel, I think deep down that wasn’t just the selfish action you think it was.”

She wasn’t used to someone knowing her like this. It had been so long since she had seen him, and she had assumed that if she were to ever somehow meet her Ollie again that he wouldn’t recognize her. But he was here and telling her he did.

“Why are you here now? I mean, why wait so long?”

“It took me a long while to realize what I was doing for Novu was necessary, and not just to save my own life. But I’ve proven my worth and earned his trust. He felt I could do more with a partner. I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone but you,” he told her, grinning again in a boyish sort of way that took some of the years off him and made him look even more the way she remembered. “And now that you’ve brought back this Earth’s Dinah Laurel Lance and inadvertently restored some of their timeline, you don’t have to remain on any one Earth either.”

“So… I’d be traveling the multiverse for this god-guy?” If not for the fact that she was literally standing in a parallel universe, she would have never believed it.

“With me,” Ollie added helpfully.

“With you,” she repeated, her voice soft. This was still so unbelievable. Since when did she get this kind of lucky? “Well, in that case… how can I say no?”

What the hell? She didn’t have anything to lose. And if this wasn’t some bizarre dream and it really was her Ollie, she was never letting him go again.

Laurel launched herself forward. He caught her in his arms, but she stilled because something was weird with his left one. Laurel pulled back and took his hand, realizing it wasn’t actually flesh and blood, but some kind of prosthetic. “What happened?”

He let out a soft laugh. “Uh, yeah, it’s gotten complicated along the way sometimes. Long story.”

“You’re gonna have all the time in the multiverse to tell me. And this is just proof this Novu guy should’ve brought me on earlier.” She was never letting him get hurt like this again.

“Yes, it is, pretty bird,” he agreed readily. Then he leaned in, and Laurel closed her eyes as she felt his lips on hers for the first time in over a decade. This, she knew, couldn’t be faked.

When they parted, he took her hand in his regular right one and gestures towards the weird ripples in the wall. “Shall we?”

Laurel smiled. A real smile, not a fake one for undercover or a smirk or a sneer. “We shall.”

So maybe her doppelganger had gotten her hero’s happy ending after all. Laurel didn’t mind that so much anymore.

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #arrow #black siren #laurel lance #oliver queen #my writing

4 notes · View notes