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#because i love open endings and hate flash-forward endings that give you all the answers (part of why i hated the montage)
eugeniedanglars · 11 months
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the way i see it, colin has three options for handling the repercussions of kissing michael on the pitch in front of everyone:
gatekeep: by some miracle no one caught the kiss on camera so colin's sexuality is kept between him and any fans who happened to be on the pitch near him. the safest option.
girlboss: keeley gets the pr challenge of a lifetime handling the story of the first active premier league player to come out as gay. rebecca is tall and powerful and intimidating in the press room making it clear that richmond stands behind colin one thousand percent. the most realistic option.
gaslight: straight-up blatantly lying. not because he's ashamed or because he thinks he can actually convince anyone that the kiss didn't happen, but just because he refuses to let it be a big deal. acts like he has no idea what anyone is talking about if asked anything related to his sexuality. he doesn't claim to be straight, mind you, he just pretends to be extremely confused about why they're asking because he never kissed anyone in the middle of a football pitch at the end of an internationally-televised game? when presented with photo and video proof of the kiss he says that was some other richmond player named hughes who wears a number 12 jersey. you don't know him, he goes to another school. the funniest option.
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fatecantstopme · 1 year
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The Wink
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: Bucky reveals how he really feels about you through a series of winks and an answer to a question you never wanted to ask.
Warnings: SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V). Aftercare. Small bits of fluff. Slight body issues (Bucky hates his scars). Feelings about being used for sex. Use of pet names.
"You're an idiot," you said with a laugh.
"Maybe, but this was entirely your idea."
You smacked his arm and rolled your eyes. "It was your idea, James."
He cocked his head to the side as if he was deciding if he agreed with you or not. He took another swig of his beer and shrugged. "It's possible that you're right." He held up a dart and shook it in front of you. "So you gonna take the bet or not?"
You grabbed the dart from his hand and grinned. "You're still an idiot." You threw the dart and it hit the board with expert precision. "Are you sure you wanna take the bet?" you teased.
Hr grinned and stepped forward, throwing his own dart at the board. It was an instant bullseye. "Oh doll, I'm gonna win this one." He winked as he teased you.
You groaned, knowing you were probably going to regret this later. You threw the dart again, aim pretty good, but certainly not a bullseye. "Shit."
Bucky threw his bullseye a second time. He turned to look at you, shooting you a wink as he grabbed his drink. "Your turn, doll."
"You can't win, Barnes."
"I'm pretty sure the game is mine, sweets."
You bit your lip and turned to face the board again. You knew that losing wasn't an option. You took a deep breath and threw your last dart, sinking it right in the bullseye. "Yes!!"
Bucky smiled and threw his last dart. "Ooo, bullseye number three, doll. Looks like I win." He winked at you again before setting his drink down and leaning closer to you. "So now you have to answer my question."
"What was your question again?" you asked in a light tone, trying to give yourself more time to formulate a better answer.
"If you could only save one person's life on the team, who would you choose?"
It was the question you never wanted to think about, let alone answer. If it came down to it, who would you pick? Whose life did you value more? Could you even pick between your teammates--your friends? Hell, every single one of them was more like family...how could you pick one family member to save?
The problem is, you knew your answer. You knew it from the moment Bucky had first asked the question 20 minutes prior. You'd refused to answer, thinking he would just let it go, but you should have known better. Instead, he made a wager...putting the answer to his question on a game darts. A game you had lost.
You could answer him honestly, but that terrified you beyond belief. You could lie to him instead, but that had its own risks. It was a rock and a hard place scenario and he knew he had you.
"I can't choose, Buck," you complained.
"It's hypothetical!"
"I know, but I love all of you. How could I possibly choose?"
"I chose," he said simply.
Your mind wandered back to a mission from three weeks before. The mission where Bucky had saved your life...
The room suddenly lit up, the muzzle of a gun flashing brightly as a bullet shot from it. The gun was pointed at you and you knew you were about to die. You could practically feel the end racing towards you at the speed of a bullet. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain, but it never came. Your eyes opened to a scene you'd never imagined seeing.
Bucky stood in front of you, his gun firing off a round as he dropped to his knees. His bullet hit his target, killing the Hydra agent instantly. When Bucky hit the ground, you hit it with him, coming to his front to assess the damage.
"Bucky!" your eyes scanned his body, panic settling into your chest. He was bleeding, but he looked alright.
"I'm fine, doll. It's just a shoulder wound."
"Why'd you do that? Why'd you jump in front of me?"
"Because you wouldn't have survived it. And I couldn't live with that," he said softly.
He wasn't wrong. That bullet would have killed you. While it only pierced his shoulder, it would have hit you directly in the head, killing you instantly.
"Thank you," you whispered.
"Anything for you, doll," he said with a wink.
Back in the present, you shook your head, clearing the memories from your mind. "That's not the same, Buck. I'd die for any one of you. That's much different than picking which one of you to save."
He shook his head. "You didn't see the whole thing. I didn't just save your life, I chose yours over Sam's."
You froze, trying to picture the moments before the gun went off, but the room had been so dark...you hadn't even seen Sam. "Sam's fine, though."
"Sam was fighting another Hydra agent when that one squared up with you. I saw him raise the gun at the same moment I saw Sam get pulled into a choke hold with a knife to his throat. I chose to save you."
You were silent, allowing his words to sink in. "I--I didn't know that. Sam never said anything."
"Sam got away moments later, so he never had a reason to bring it up."
"You just acted on instinct though."
"Perhaps, but I knew I would save you if it came down to it. I'd always choose you." He smiled and shot you another wink. It was the third one this evening alone and you were starting to wonder if they meant more than you'd originally thought.
Bucky was always winking at you. Sometimes jokingly, sometimes in a flirtatious manner, and sometimes even in a serious moment. They always made your heart flutter, but you didn't think they meant anything to him. Bucky was flirty, but he'd never made a move, so you assumed he wasn't interested.
"You still haven't answered my question, doll, and you do owe me an answer."
You took a deep breath and sighed. "Fine. I'd pick you, alright?" you said with a huff.
He looked surprised, but unconvinced. "Why? Because I picked you?"
You groaned, deciding to lay your cards out on the table, come what may. "No you idiot. Your stupid face popped into my head the moment you asked me the question, okay? I knew I'd pick you."
"Then why didn't you answer it the first time?"
"Because!"
"That's not an answer."
"Ugh!" You sighed again. "I didn't say it because I didn't want to explain why it was you."
Bucky looked at you strangely. "You're not gonna make me ask, are you?"
"Damnit, James," you groaned. "I can't live without you, okay? There's no world worth being in if you're not in it."
You couldn't believe you'd just said that out loud, but here you were, heart laid bare, in the awkwardly quiet compound game room.
Bucky didn't say a word, but he wasn't speechless. He was simply contemplating his next move, weighing the consequences of his actions before he made them.
After a few more painfully silent moments, he grumbled "Fuck it," before crossing the short distance between you two and pressing his lips to yours in a frantic, yet passionate kiss.
You were surprised by the suddenness of his actions, but you melted into him without a second thought. The kiss was infinitely better than you had imagined, and you had done quite a lot of imagining.
When Bucky's lips left yours, you whined slightly, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss you again.
"Sorry, doll. I've wanted to do that for ages."
"Well what you took you so long?" you asked.
He raised his eyebrows. "I wasn't sure you wanted me to. You never said anything either, you know. At least I dropped hints."
You rolled your eyes. "Can you please just kiss me again?"
He grinned and leaned back into you, mouth encompassing yours instantly. He loved the taste of your lips, the feeling of your tongue fighting against his, the way you gripped his arms like you were terrified he was going to disappear.
Bucky pulled away once more, the action almost painful. "Should we move this to my room? Anyone could see us here."
"Bit presumptuous of you, James," you teased.
He started to back peddle, a look of panic crossing his features. "Oh, I--uh--I didn't mean--"
You laughed. "I was teasing you, handsome. I'd love to move this elsewhere."
He relaxed, exhaling long and slow. "Thank god." He grabbed your hand and practically dragged you towards the elevator. "Come on."
"Buck, my legs are a lot shorter than yours, so can you slow down a little?" you asked as you jogged after him.
"Sorry, sweets." He turned towards you and scooped you up with ease before continuing to the elevator.
"What are you doing?"
"It's faster if I just carry you."
"Are we in a rush?"
He gave you an unreadable look. "Let's just say I've wanted you for so long that I actually might not be able to contain myself for much longer."
You smirked. "So you're gonna take me right here in this elevator?"
His eyes darkened. "Don't tempt me, baby, because I will."
You blushed. "I wouldn't say no..."
He looked like he was considering it for a moment before shaking his head to clear his dirty mind. "No, no. Our first time needs to be in a bed, where I can attend to your every need, not some dirty elevator."
You'd be lying if you said that the idea of him attending to your every need wasn't sexy as hell. The image of him on his knees for you sent a wave of pleasure straight to your core.
Bucky inhaled deeply and a low growl escaped his throat. "Fuck, you smell good."
You gasped, realizing he could actually smell your arousal...freaking super soldier senses.
The elevator door finally opened and Bucky practically ran towards his room. He pushed his door open and kicked it closed behind him before tossing you on the bed. He stepped away from you and took a few deep breaths.
"Bucky? You okay?" you asked in concern.
"I just need a minute, doll. Need to control myself."
"Why? I'm not afraid of you."
"You should be and you know it," he growled. "I could hurt you and I might if I lose control."
You crawled across the bed towards him, hand reaching out to him. "You're not going to hurt me, Buck. Just come here...please..."
His eyes met yours and you were taken aback by how dark they were. The normally bright blue irises were almost entirely hidden by his pupils, an almost feral look in them. It was an expression that might terrify a lesser woman, but you trusted Bucky with your life. That wasn't going to stop in the bedroom.
"Come here, baby," you whispered gently.
He let you take his arm and pull him towards the bed. He stopped when his legs touched the edge of the mattress. "I wanna be gentle with you, doll. Treat you right."
You cocked your head to the side as you took him in. "While I love that sentiment, Bucky, I don't need that. I need you and I'll take you in whatever form you come."
He groaned. "You're amazing."
You grinned. "Oh baby, you ain't seen nothing yet." You shot him a wink to emphasize your statement and he practically jumped on top of you, earning a squeal of delight from you.
He pinned you to the bed and started kissing you again as his hands began to undress you. His hands were fumbling with your shirt and he groaned in frustration before simply ripping it in two.
"Bucky!"
"I'm sorry, I'll buy you three to replace it," he mumbled, reattaching his lips to your skin.
He quickly rid you of your pants, leaving you in nothing but your underwear and a bralette that was arguably a little small for your chest.
Bucky sat back to take you in, eyes hungrily dancing across your body. He tapped the fabric between your breasts, "Is this expensive?"
You shook your head. "I have a couple more like it."
"Good," he said as he pulled a knife from his pants and slid it under the fabric, cutting the bralette in two. He cut the straps and tossed the ruined fabric onto the floor along with his blade.
You stared at him in a shocked silence, wetness seeping into your underwear. "That was hot as hell."
He grinned and inhaled deeply. "I can tell you liked it, pretty girl."
He grabbed your underwear and tugged them harshly down your legs. "Holy shit," he murmured, sliding a finger between your folds to collect your juices. "This all for me?"
"All for you, Bucky."
He licked his finger and groaned loudly. "Fuck, baby, you taste even better than I imagined."
He dropped to his stomach between your thighs, spreading your legs as wide as he could. He didn't bother to tease you, just dove right in, devouring you with a kind of hunger you'd never experienced.
You were a moaning mess in minutes, begging him not to stop, a plea he took to heart. When your orgasm hit, he worked you through it, never stopping to even take a breath.
You tugged on his hair and whimpered, but he kept going, needing to taste you for a little while longer. He wanted to feel you explode on his tongue again and again and again until you couldn't take it anymore.
"Bucky--I'm so close, please," you gasped.
He dug his fingers into your hips and kept your pussy tight to his face, not letting you squirm away.
Moments later you came with a cry of his name, waves of pleasure making your hips buck against his face. He worked you through it, only stopping when you begged him to give you a break.
He lifted his head, giving you a view of his slick covered beard. "I could eat that pretty pussy all day long, baby." He licked his lips. "Tastes so damn good."
You whimpered softly and reached for him, wanting to kiss him again. He wiped his face on his shirt before tugging it off over his head and lowering his body back down to yours. You held him close as you kissed him, fingers lightly tracing the scars on his left shoulder.
You felt his body stiffen under your hands and you pulled away to look at him. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," he murmured.
"Hey," you said softly, grabbing his chin to force him to look at you. "Talk to me."
He sighed heavily. "I'm just not used to anyone touching my scars."
"Oh," you said in surprise, pulling your hand away from him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"Shit--no, that's not what I meant. Most women tend to avoid them. I know they're not pretty to look at."
"I think they're beautiful."
He looked at you as if you were insane.
"I'm serious, Bucky. Each one tells a unique story of your life. They're a part of you and that makes them beautiful to me."
His eyes softened and you could have sworn you saw the ghost of a tear slide down his cheek. "I don't deserve you," he whispered.
"Oh hush. That's not for you to decide." You hooked your leg around his hips and flipped him over with surprising ease. "If we had more time, I'd kiss every single one of your scars until you believed me, but we don't."
His eyes widened. "Are we in a rush, baby?" he teased, echoing your earlier statement.
You grinned. "If I don't get your cock in me soon, I may never recover."
"We can't let that happen, so we better get to it."
He helped you remove his pants, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. His bulge was massive and your mouth was watering in anticipation. You gripped the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down slowly, allowing his cock to spring free.
You inhaled sharply as you took in the massive erection before you, a slight panic settling into your bones at the thought of having something that large inside of you.
As if he sensed your panic, Bucky chuckled lightly and said, "Don't worry, baby. It'll fit."
"I don't think so."
He grinned. "We'll make it fit."
You looked up at him with what you hoped was a neutral expression. Concern immediately clouded his face, so you knew you'd failed miserably.
"Hey doll, it's okay. I'll go nice and slow, alright? I'll be gentle."
You nodded and took a deep breath. You positioned yourself directly above his painfully erect cock and began to lower yourself down very slowly.
Bucky gripped your hips tightly, making sure to guide you as slowly as he could manage. You both moaned as he began to enter you, the stretch causing you to dig your nails into his chest.
"I've got you," he whispered.
You tried to lower yourself further, but Bucky's grip on your hips kept you from moving. He meant it when he said he wanted to be as gentle as possible.
"I can take it, Buck. Let me try," you murmured.
He looked at you and nodded slowly, not looking entirely convinced, but he loosened his grip on your hips, allowing you to take control.
You took a deep breath, deciding to handle this like removing a band-aid--just get it over with. You sat down on top of him, sheathing his entire cock within your tight walls.
You cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain, body stretched in ways it had never been stretched before.
Bucky groaned loudly, almost covering your cry. He looked at you with wide eyes, checking to see if you were okay.
Your body was acclimating to his size and you were becoming desperate the longer he remained still. "Please, Bucky," you whimpered.
"What do you need, baby?"
"I need you to fuck me--please."
He gripped your hips again and started to move slowly, letting you match his pace.
"I'm not made of glass," you grumbled.
He looked up at you in surprise. "What?"
"You're not going to break me, Bucky. I want you to fuck me until I can't walk, understand?"
He nodded rapidly, eyes darkening once more. "Are you sure?"
"Fuck. Me. Now." you demanded.
He wasn't going to deny you such a request. He shifted his body, planted his feet on the bed, and began to piston up into you with speed and force.
"Fuck!" you gasped, the pleasure slamming into you like a freight train.
"You're so tight, doll. Feels so good wrapped around my cock."
Bucky was giving you exactly what you'd asked for and you loved it. The tip of his cock brushed your cervix with every thrust, the whisper of pain only adding to your enjoyment.
"Squeezing me so tight, baby. You gonna cum for me? Gonna make a mess on my cock?"
You whimpered and nodded rapidly, your third orgasm of the night creeping up on you. "Feels so good, Buck."
"I know, baby. It's like heaven--could stay here forever."
Your fingernails were digging crescent shapes into his chest as you clung to him, unable to do anything more than moan and gasp his name. "Please," you whimpered.
He knew exactly what you were asking for, so he didn't slow down or alter his movements. He continued to pound into you until you came with a cry of his name, pussy pulsating around his cock.
"Fuck!" he gasped. "Fuck--baby--shit, you've gotta stop that or I'm not gonna last."
"Can't help it," you mumbled. "Feels so good."
"I know pretty girl." He pulled you down to his chest and held on tightly as he flipped you onto your back, allowing him to get a better angle.
By this stage, your body was hyper-sensitive and you could feel every single movement he made.
His hips began to move again and his fingers caressed every part of you he could reach. He pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he fucked you. "Can you give me one more, sweets?"
Your eyes widened and you shook your head.
"You sure, doll? I think my pussy can do it." He changed his angle, giving him the ability to hit your g-spot with each thrust, as if to punctuate his sentence.
You moaned loudly and clenched tightly around him, eliciting a groan from his lips.
"I think she can give me one more, baby. My pussy--treating me so good--gonna make sure she feels good too."
You moaned again, nails clawing at his back as he fucked you.
"Yeah? You like that, huh?" he groaned into your ear. "Who's pussy is this, baby?"
"You--yours," you gasped out.
"That's right, doll. It's mine."
He knew you were getting close, so he slid his left hand down between your bodies, using his finger to gently massage your clit.
"Bucky!" you gasped.
"You gonna cum for me again, sweets?"
"So close," you whispered.
"I know, doll."
Three more thrusts and you were falling into an ocean of pleasure, wave after wave crashing into you. You were barely aware of Bucky chasing his own high, the crest of your pleasure blinding you to anything else.
Bucky came with a low groan of your name, spilling his seed deep within you. When he was spent, he collapsed on top of you, body shaking slightly from the intensity of his orgasm.
You laid like that for several minutes before Bucky finally shifted, rolling off of you and leaving you cold and empty. You reached for him almost instinctively, but he wasn't beside you.
You whimpered softly, looking around the room for him. He appeared from the bathroom holding a washcloth, a look of concern on his face.
"What's wrong, baby?"
"I didn't know where you went," you whispered sheepishly.
He looked sad. "Just wanted to get a nice warm washcloth to clean you up with, doll."
"Oh."
He very gently began to clean you up, hands surprisingly soft. "I've got you, doll. I'm here."
You felt kind of foolish...you were simply used to be treated differently by men. You'd always been the girl they'd fuck and leave, none of them ever stayed long enough to even make sure you'd cum, let alone clean you up after. It was wrong of you to assume that Bucky was the same.
When he was done, he tossed the washcloth to the floor and crawled back into the bed, pulling you into his chest. "Wanna tell me what's wrong, sweets?"
"I'm--I'm just not used to aftercare, that's all. I...I thought you left."
"It's my room," he teased softly, laying a kiss on top of your head. "Besides, I'd much rather hold you after sex than lay in an empty bed."
You looked up at him, taking in his disheveled appearance and eyes so full of love it almost hurt to look at them. "Thank you, Bucky."
His brow furrowed. "For what?"
"For being you," you said simply, placing a soft kiss to the scar on his right shoulder, the one he got from saving your life.
"Anything for you, doll. Anything for you."
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sylverstorms · 4 months
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Demon Slayer Women ~How they Fall in Love~
Characters: Mitsuri Kanroji | Shinobu Kocho | Daki/Ume | Lady Tamayo.   
Warnings: None, SFW.
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Mitsuri Kanroji - Love At First Sight
It all began the fateful day Mitsuri's lively presence collided with yours. Quite literally collided, because the girl was dashing through the Ubuyashiki Estate, late to the Hashiras meeting, only to smack into a crash that was entirely her fault. To her credit, she had the split-second reaction time to grasp your biceps with her hands, pull you closer before you fell sideways and hit the wall. You still ended up in a tangle of limbs on the ground, though.     
Flustered at her own carelessness, she immediately looked up to apologize, “Oh, gosh, I’m so s–” but her breath caught in her throat halfway through the sentence. 
Her green eyes flew open wide, the blush on her cheeks only deepening. Your beauty radiated like the first light of dawn. She completely missed the first thing you said –that it was all good, or something– because, that sweet smile you gave her? It could melt the iciest of hearts. It certainly did a number on hers.
Without thinking, she reached up to brush the lock of hair that had fallen over your right eye. “I’m… really sorry.” came out in a breathy whisper. “Let me make it up to you?”
Ice-cream after the Hashiras’ meeting, her treat, Mitsuri insisted. 
Little did you know, half the things said in that room flew right over her head, with how occupied it was with thoughts of you. 
—----------------------------------------
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Shinobu Kocho - Admiration To Love
It was often that the demon slayers praised and idolized their most elite warriors, the Hashiras. Not as often that one of the Hashiras came to greatly admire someone from the lower ranks. 
Kinoto or not, you made a lasting impression on Shinobu. Your drive to protect humans that seemed to render you immune to the pain of your injuries, that laser-focused look in your eye as you stared a Lower Moon down and trusted her to deliver the killing blow in time, before the monster decapitated you first. When the battle was over and adrenaline started to die down, your wounds caught up with you. You collapsed forward, but she was there to catch you, gently lowering you to the ground.
“You could have retreated as soon as I arrived.” she stated, staring deep into your eyes, perplexed. 
“Hey, I’m fine. S’all good.” you drawled, dizzy from the blood loss. “Please, don’t be angry. We won. Won’t you give me a smile?”
“I am.” she answered. 
“A real one?” 
Right then and there, you stunned her. Shocked her. You, who met her that night for the very first time, saw through her carefully constructed mask that fooled even her closest associates. But for that one moment, gazing upon your relaxed face, she almost forgot her constant, burning anger. 
And she smiled down at you for real. 
—------------------------------------ 
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Daki/Ume - Rivals to Lovers  
In the shadowed realm of demons under Lord Muzan, Daki reigned with a cruel elegance for decades. Not as the most powerful, but surely the most beautiful. Until. Until you came along.
You and your accursed, gorgeous face and your deep, magnetizing eyes. How dare you show up just like that -out of nowhere!- and flash her that thousand-gigawatt smile. How dare you wink at her and so casually, so confidently say: 
“Hello~ It’ll be a pleasure working with you, prettygirl.” 
Instantly, she knew that she hated you. She was quick to show it, too. Daki's first interactions with you were filled with disdain and antagonism. And yet neither of you could deny the spark that those homing, sharp-witted comments ignited within you. 
In equal parts, you infuriated and exhilarated her. She masked her true feelings beneath layers of scorn, unwilling to admit the vulnerability that lay beneath her pride. Until the evening you walked up to her, pushed a jewelry box into her hands and told her to take it and like it. Within lay a priceless necklace you knew had caught her eye years ago.
“Happy Demon Birthday, sexy.” 
She tried. She really did try to bite the fuck out of her growing smile down. In the end, though, it still managed to overpower her. And that kind of marked the point of no return. 
—----------------------------------- 
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Lady Tamayo - Slow Burn Love
In a world where demons and humans clashed ceaselessly, Tamayo stood as an anomaly. A cursed existence with a gentle soul, a demon devoted to helping humans in pursuit of atonement. It was by chance she came across you, the injured slayer in dire need of medical help.
Tamayo took you in, cared for your wounds and remained by your side for nights on end. Even unconscious, you seemed agitated at her presence at first, as if you could sense what she was. Gradually, however, you stopped flinching at the touch of her hand on your forehead. Eventually, you leaned into it. 
She couldn't explain why the serene smile you gave in your sleep tugged at her heartstrings so powerfully. Then a twisting worry began to take root inside her, that the moment you woke up your liking to her would disappear, replaced by malice. 
When you opened your eyes, she drew a meter back from you. 
“You. You're the one who saved my life…?” you spoke in a voice hoarse from unuse. “I should thank you for that.”
“No need. It's clear you recognize what I am.” was her reply. Your eyes met. Ancient lavender orbs held your gaze kindly, awaiting your judgment with the patience of a saint. 
A demon, you thought to accuse. The words were perched right on the tip of your tongue. Yet the more you stared at her, the harder they got to voice. Thus…
“A doctor?” you offered, instead. 
The soft, slow smile she gave in response could light up the whole town. 
-
A/N: Tysm for reading and if you’re interested in ASMR-type stories written and voiced by me featuring Demon Slayer women and other anime hotties: My YouTube <3
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thotsandfeelings333 · 2 years
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Dear Zen,
Tinashe makes a song called Something In a Heartbreak. She thanks her lover for breaking her open, for hurting her and giving her something that moves her forward. Unlike Tinashe, I haven’t moved forward honestly. You’ve been at the forefront of my mind amongst relationships, sex and even my own views of my body. Your love is heavy, weighs me down, but offers me no support. Love, isn’t even the right word really. More so your control. You controlled me from the moment you met me. You perpetuated the cycle that your wife did, that your stepfather did. You are a person of consistency after all.
I was only 18 when you picked me up. Why did you pick me up? You know in your heart the guilt and shame was eating you. My baby face and mom jeans, I was to young, to soft, to pure for your intentions. You should feel ashamed honestly, that your compass is so lax you’d fuck on a teenager. Are you that pathetic (the answer is yes you are), and that shows in the way you treated me for those two years. Your words couldn’t control me, so you used your hands. You used the abuse you endured as a road map to break my soul. You did just that, actually! For so many years; I have had your words, hands, and pieces of your knife in my back. My body holds symbols and scars from you. You’re here as much as your not. I want to end this!
I never thought of writing a letter, the idea seemed trivial and I always felt that my letters had to be concise and together. That’s something that you wanted so bad to be. Concise and put together. You wanted to prove your poly was the best, that your girls were the best. Fair was purity and I was hyper sexualized. A dark skin women was your way of fucking through men who didn’t care for you. You used me as bait and I let you control my mind. Project your thoughts on David, onto Grym, onto Lex. You ain’t shit for that fr fr. You’re not shit for a lot of things actually.
You can’t be so obtuse to know that David liked me more. You know it, and I knew it. David isn’t important, but this knowledge is because it’s a constant pattern in our relationship. I met and connected and I’m sure you were jealous and upset. Why didn’t you express it, I’m not sure. You speak so fluidly on communication and on blessings, but really you’re the biggest curse in the world. You really fucked my head up about my body, my intelligence, my views on sex and gender. My womanhood is a flashing image of bodies and hearts that I collected for you. You ended up feeling more, fucking more, and then destroying for the sake of destroying. Why did you blow up and not look around at the collateral damage you caused.
You hurt me with Monae too. I was discovering myself, doing me like you did with her. Why is it when I kiss it’s cheating, but with you it’s expression. With you it’s sexual and with me it’s sluttiness. Your self hate shows and it’s so obvious now. You didn’t love your expression and envied me for mine. Now though, Monae and David don’t matter. These people don’t mean anything in the grand scheme, but these people are representations of how you moved and navigated Polyam. No communication and no type of real true solid morals. You wanted to fuck, but could not fanthom the idea of me doing the same. Or even the idea of me finding love and care outside of you. Funny how you never gave that unless under the influence or to spite your wife.
Funny how, you also speak on the illnesses you face but never speak on the abuse, the emotional and physical abuse you afflicted on those around you. I was scared of you, but now I see that even on your biggest platform you’re a coward. Nothing but a fucking cuck….
I watch your stories sometimes. I wish I could stop, but I’ve always enjoyed digging the knife into my skin. The best self-harm is the one that can’t be traced. An obsession and a quiet sadness that flows into the every relationship. I need to take my meds, need to will the manic away. Need to be healthy
0 notes
wonlouvre · 3 years
Note
hello!! can i request a fwb!wonwoo + angst to fluff 🥺 thank u
start | j. ww.
pairing: race car driver wonwoo x g.n. reader genre: fluff, angst if you squint, also 18+ (some sexual themes, mentions) warnings: couple’s arrangement is FWB, but nothing explicit, accident, injury mentions of sex (please tell me if i missed anything!) word count: 1.5k+ (i have no regrets)
💌: hi anon! thank you so much for requesting <3 this is not as explicitly fwb and angsty and i’m so sorry :((( i hope you still like it tho! i actually thought of developing this into a oneshot someday-ish. who knows? tell me what you think!
It’s no secret that you frequent Jeon Wonwoo’s office a lot. It’s also no secret that something bloomed the first time you introduced yourself to him after he won the race hosted by his very own racing track. You’re interested in cars as much as you are interested in the youngest owner of the most coveted luxurious cars in the world. You own yourself a few. Some you have purchased from him and some he has given himself for free in exchange for the special arrangement that the two of you have.
The attraction was quick but it took quite a while for the two of you to give in. Being professional business partners and all. But along the way, the two of you reached an agreement. An agreement that you thought would only last for about two months tops and yet here you are, eight months later, still running to his arms. You know Wonwoo is no different. 
“Hi Woozi. How’s my favorite racer doing?” You greet Wonwoo’s friend lounging outside the closed doors of the office you’re supposed to be visiting.
“If you’re here to visit your man, there’s a line,” Woozi deadpans as he boringly flips through the magazine with his fingers. “I’m supposed to be practicing with Wonwoo right now but he seems to be caught with something, someone that isn’t you.”
You didn’t fail to catch Woozi’s disdain and that only makes you giggle. You sit on the opposite side of the center table, placing your Prada purse beside your hip as you cross your legs. You feign ignorance on his “your man” remark but the term “someone” fuels your jealousy. Of course, you will never admit that to him. 
“It’s an admirer,” you say and grab yourself a magazine to skim through. Might as well entertain yourself if you’re indeed going to wait. It’s unbelievable. You keep in mind to avenge your wasted time in the bedroom with Wonwoo. “Been doing a lot of visiting on behalf of they’re old father who has no single interest in race cars.” 
Woozi frowns at the information. “How do you know that?”
You look up from the latest issue of racer weekly and blink up at him before pursing your lips. “I saw their car parked in my supposed parking spot. Plus, they send an awful lot of gifts that Wonwoo just gives away to his staff. Gifts are a normal exchange between potential business partners, but it’s not when said business partner always leaves love notes.”
“And, you’re not bothered at all?” Woozi finally asks the question you know he’s been dying to ask. 
You smirk and return the magazine to the table. Then, you pick your bag up as you stand to your feet. “Of course I am bothered. I could be with Wonwoo right now, at this moment, but they’re holding me up and I don’t like that.”
You fix your hair and skirt before strutting to the huge doors and opening them without knocking. Wonwoo is not surprised to see you but you can tell he’s relieved with the way he’s smiling at you. On the other hand, his visitor doesn’t appreciate you barging in like that. They’re resentment is pretty obvious with how they’re glaring at you. 
But it doesn’t matter. They don’t matter as you walk to the man you’re here for. 
“Woozi is waiting for you,” you cheekily say before rounding straight to his executive table to give his cheek a smooch, your red lipstick leaving a mark. You gingerly wipe it with your thumb while he just keeps smiling, looking up to you. “I wanted to stop by to invite you for lunch, but it looks like you’re busy.”
Wonwoo shakes his head and holds your hip and stands up from his chair. “No, I’m good. They’re just about to leave.”
The other person in the room panics. “But I wasn’t done explaining—.”
“My team will review your proposal and we’ll get back to you if they deem it beneficial for our company,” Wonwoo bids farewell and holds your hand to his. “My assistant will escort you outside. Thank you for your time.”
Wonwoo didn’t give them the chance to say anything else because he’s already leading you outside to meet Woozi who’s been waiting for him. You also didn’t have the chance to say your goodbyes to them because the toned arm around your waist and deep voice against your ear is enough to distract you. 
“They were cute,” you make a point to mention the culprit behind your stolen parking spot when you finally get the chance to sit down at Wonwoo’s favorite restaurant. “I think this is the third time I saw them at your office this week.”
Wonwoo gives your orders to the waiter without the need to ask what you fancy because he already knows. When the order is set, he returns his attention to you and flashes his signature smile that makes your legs grow weak. “Why? Are you jealous?”
“No, no,” you’re quick to answer before sipping on the lukewarm water you requested. “Just annoyed that during the three times I saw them, they have also taken it upon themselves to just park at my spot.” 
Wonwoo chuckles and opens his palms on the table, seeking your hand to hold halfway. You roll your eyes, but you don’t hesitate to grant him access to your ring clad hand (the ring was a gift from him and you haven’t taken it off ever since you received it). His phone suddenly dings! and you know it’s Woozi grilling him for not keeping to his end and practicing with him. 
You let Wonwoo cater to his friend’s needs all the while letting his other hand caress yours, his fingers digging on the silver band once in a while. Your heart and mind can’t help but get confused about where you stand with him because of gestures like this. 
At some point, you’re supposed to end this, right? Whatever this may be. But the real question is, do you want to end this with Wonwoo? This happiness, this warmth, this comfort, this lov—.
You step on the brakes before you could continue and blink away the daze you were stuck on for a moment. Wonwoo must have noticed you flinch because he drops his phone back on the table, eyes full of concern directed towards you.
“Are you okay?”
You force a smile. “Never better.”
It’s not less than three days later when you receive a call from Wonwoo’s assistant, voice frantically shaking as they inform you about what happened. 
To your horror, Wonwoo got injured in an accident while performing practice laps with his friends. 
You own race cars but you never thought you would be driving one beyond your usual speed limit because the stupid boy you’re in love with got in an accident. There, you admit it. You’re in love with Jeon Wonwoo not only because of his stroke game, abs, broad shoulders and deep voice among many perfect features of his.
You’re in love with him because he makes today's you look forward to tomorrow’s him. 
You try to calm your heart that’s been beating so fast because of the adrenaline and anger that’s coursing through your blood right now. Wonwoo better make sure he’s not badly injured, otherwise you would throw your hands at him yourself. 
A cut on his forehead, lips and nose. 
And a dislocated shoulder as cherry on top. 
You couldn’t mask your disappointment when you saw Wonwoo getting checked on for the last time by the doctor in charge. You grimace when you hear him groan as they place the sling on him. What do you even do with this boy?
When everyone else is gone and it’s only the two of you left, your disappointment and anger vanishes the moment he calls you.
“Hi baby.”
Your tense shoulder loosens and your legs quickly run towards him (carefully). 
“I hope you know that I hate you right now,” you say without meaning them anyway. 
Wonwoo has the energy to giggle and tug at your hand to sit beside him. He leans his head near your chest, a habit he’s been doing whenever he wants you to coddle him. Carefully and gently, you hold his head and caress his greasy locks. You’re sure it’s going to be a struggle to help him shower in the coming days. 
“Did you see your parking spot?” Wonwoo suddenly mumbles. 
“Why are you bringing that up now?” You frown. 
“I put your plate number on the wall so that no one can take the spot.” 
“Wonwoo!” 
“Baby,” he whines. “Not so loud.”
“Why would you do that?” You hiss. 
“Because I love you?” Wonwoo answers, his soft kitten eyes gazing up at you. 
You gulp and look away, trying not to smile at what he just said. 
“I was supposed to make a romantic confession over the weekend,” Wonwoo says, making you look back at him. “We’re gonna have to postpone, I guess.”
“You’re an idiot,” you whisper before pressing your lips against his smiling ones. “But, I love you too.”
“Does that mean you’ll be staying over my place until this shoulder is back to normal?” Wonwoo pleads, lips moving against yours. 
Your eyes glimmer with mischief. “Yes and that also means no sex until then.”
“Wait, what? No!”
There’s still a lot of talking to do and a lot of changes to happen. But for now, you’re just glad that today’s Wonwoo is alright. 
756 notes · View notes
noctumbra · 3 years
Text
𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆
summary ─ he couldn’t say anything. his brain was screaming at him to say something, but his tongue wasn’t cooperating. the lump in his throat wasn’t helpful, either.
pairing ─ fuckboy!bucky barnes x reader
warnings ─ angst, ANGST, implied smut, language, alcohol consumption, reader is drunk, phone calls, emotions are bitch is the short version lol 
a/n ─ henlo, i’m back but without a smut this time because something like this was mandatory lmao hope you like it! please let me know if you do and what you think about this, thank you <333
the (after) party [part one] ─ loft music [part two]
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Bucky frowned deeply as he lifted himself off the bed and ditched the condom. The brief satisfaction and relief came with the sex had already washed away from his body, leaving him with a miserable feeling that he desperately tried to ignore but failed almost all the time.
He reached for his jeans after ditching the condom in the trash he spotted in the bathroom and cleaned himself with a couple wet wipes. His t-shirt was thrown over the chair at the corner of the room, so Bucky walked there to get it. He vaguely remembered his shoes being discarded at some place that was close to the door, but he had to find his socks before he got to his shoes.
“You’re leaving already?” He heard Dot ask. Her voice carried the typical disappointed tone. Bucky nodded instead of answering verbally, his eyes were searching for his socks ─ they were on the ground by her closet. Bending down, he grabbed and put them on. “I thought we could cuddle a bit,” she whined. Bucky barely surpassed his eye-roll. He didn’t like very much when women he had been with whined other than having sex.
“Got things to do,” he murmured distractedly. He checked for his wallet and phone by patting his jacket’s pockets. Both were there, so he only had to get his shoes and he could leave.
“You always say that,” she whined again. Bucky sighed harshly but stayed quiet. He pulled his jacket on and briefly ducked into the bathroom to fix his hair. When he decided that he didn’t look debauched anymore, he walked out.
“Because I have things to do,” he gritted through his teeth. As he walked out of the room, he heard the rustle of the sheets and her soft but stubborn footsteps.
“Can I see you again?” Dot asked, moving in front of him before he could open the front door and sneaked out. “I really had a good time, baby.” She batted her lashes, gave him a sly smirk, mischievous sparks were going off in her eyes. Her hands grabbed front of his jacket, and she lifted herself on her tiptoes; now they were nose to nose. “Like tomorrow? Can I see you then?” Bucky shrugged, making her hands fell from his jacket and he took a step back.
“No,” he said. “One night stand term means one night,” he added, practically hissing. He made a move to the door but froze when he heard her.
“Then why did you fuck Y/N for months?” Dot snarled. “Everybody knew, knew that you fucked her for months and saw her again and again─” Bucky turned his body to her. In a blink, he was in front of her and crowded her against the wall. She looked at him, fear all over her face.
“You’re not her,” Bucky hissed. “You’ll never be her. Talk shit about her like that again, it won’t end pretty for you, baby.” Bucky looked at her for another couple seconds and then stormed out of the apartment.
As he walked down the empty street, his body was strangely cold. His chest was heaving with harsh breaths, his eyes were stinging and he had to blink to clear his sight before he realized that he had fucking tears in his eyes.
He sniffed as he wrapped his jacket around his body and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Shoulder up to his ears, Bucky walked down the street with his eyes stinging from the tears he’s been desperately trying to hold back. He didn’t remember a time where he wanted to cry, where he felt… vulnerable. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way, couldn’t see any reason for it, except─
Bucky sighed. The words he said to Dot filled his mind. Shit, he thought. Dot was so going to tell that to everyone. When Bucky took a moment to think about that, that Dot telling everyone what he said to her, he found himself not giving any flying fucks about it. He didn’t care. She could tell anyone she wanted to, Bucky didn’t care.
Because it was the truth.
Dot was not you, would never be you, not in a million years. It really wouldn’t end pretty for Dot if she were to continue talk shit about you ─ which Bucky assumed Dot was going to because she’d most likely to be jealous now. Good, Bucky thought. Dot was great in bed, Bucky liked how vocal she was and how she told him whatever she wanted at that moment, but she wasn’t a very good person other than that. He could care less.
Bucky took a deep breath. There was a lump sitting in his throat, eyes stinging still, and his nose was burning a bit. He wanted to let go, but he didn’t know how. He never let go before.
Just as he sniffed and blinked a couple times to get rid of the tears, he heard his phone going off in his pocket. Pausing for a second on the sidewalk, he pulled it out only to see your name flashing back at him on his phone screen. Bucky frowned. The worry filled his chest, and whoa, it never happened before, and he accepted the call.
“YN/?” He said, the frown still visible on his face, and his eyes were still teary but there was worry in them, now. “Are you okay?” He didn’t hear anything for a short while. There was no sound, no background noise or your voice ringing in his ear. Frown deepening, Bucky pulled the phone off his face to check if you were still on the line, and you were. “Y/N? Are you there?”
“Why didja hav’to fuck me up like t’at?” You finally said, words slurring. Bucky blinked. Were you drunk? You never slurred unless you were drunk out of your mind.
“Y/N, where are you?” Bucky asked immediately. His mind was going off places where you might be, and some terrible imaginative scenes were playing in his mind. “I’m comin’ to pick you up,” he said. “Where are you, baby?” He didn’t mean to call you that, but it became a habit after all the time he spent with you.
He heard you chuckle adorably in his ear. “I love when you call me that,” you said, making him smile faintly. The worry was still there, though. “Makes me feel like ‘m somethin’ precious.” Bucky swallowed the words ‘it’s because you’re’, only to make the lump sitting on his throat bigger. “Why didja have to do it?”
“What do you mean?” Bucky asked right back. He had no idea what you were talking about and figured if he made you talk, you might tell him where you were. He heard you sniff and some glasses clinking. There was a faint cheering sound on the background. “Baby, where are you?”
“You made me fall in love with you,” you murmured, and it was the most sober you sounded since he picked up. Bucky froze. His somehow already cold body was even colder now, his lungs were rejecting the oxygen and he felt his eyes burning even more. The muscle in his jaw clenched. “I loved you, but you walked away. Why did you do it?”
What could he possibly to say to that?
Because I was scared that I love you, too?
Because I’m a fuck up, and you deserve better?
Because I love you so much, I’d kill for you?
None of the answers would justify what he did, he knew, but goddammit, he was fucking scared. He didn’t want to get hurt again; he went through that heartbreak once and it was enough for him for a lifetime. After that phase of his life, he became cruel to his partners, he knew this, too. He took his pain and anger out of them most of the time, and the thought of he might have fallen in love again was terrifying.  
“You left me behind at that party,” you continued. “I know we broke up way before that─” You cut yourself off with an emotionless laugh that sounded much more like a sob. “Did we even have a relationship, Bucky?” You sounded so upset, so small and sad, all Bucky wanted to do was to reach out to you through his phone and give you a big hug. “I always thought we did, but I knew you never see me in that way. I know I’m not enough.”
Oh, it hurt.
It hurt like motherfucker.
Bucky felt his heart skip a few beats, seizing up in its small cage, as the tears in his eyes finally rolled down his cheeks. The tears burned their way down his frozen face, his tingling nose was a great company to its burn. He couldn’t say anything. His brain was screaming at him to say something, but his tongue wasn’t cooperating. The lump in his throat wasn’t helpful, either.
“I loved how special you made me feel,” you murmured with a small voice, it felt like you were smiling. Sniffing lightly, you continued. “I liked how you got to know me so well. It made me feel like I was being cared for, like someone was finally giving their attention to me fully.”
Bucky tried to swallow the lump so that he could say something, but it didn’t budge. His throat was burning with the urge to scream; tears still rolling down on his cheeks and wetting his face, his body was an ice cube, but your voice warmed him up a bit.
He knew he had to come forward with his feelings, he had to face with them, but he was scared; so scared that it was making him slowly lose the best thing in his life.
“You broke my heart, but I love you anyway,” you whispered. “Why I love you still, Bucky? I don’t want to. It only hurts me more.” Bucky’s chin trembled. You didn’t want to love him, and he made that. He caused that. He hated himself for it. He hated how fucked up he was to make you hate to love someone.
Sniffing, Bucky cleared his throat. “Y/N,” he started. “Where are you?” He heard you sob, more glass clinking and suddenly, all the noise was cut off. “Y/N?” Please, he thought, please tell me where you are, please.
“It hurt me to kick you out the other night,” you said instead. Bucky closed his eyes, sending another wave of tears down his cheeks. “All I wanted to do was to snuggle with you like we used to, but that night at the party… You hurt me so much, James.”
Fuck, Bucky forgot how much heartbreak could hurt him, how much pain it had brought with itself. His heart was skipping beats, his body felt cold and strange to him, his hands were trembling and his eyes kept producing more tears.
Bucky was hurting. He was hurting so much.
He hated himself for being a coward.
“Y/N,” Bucky said. “I’m begging you, please, please, tell me where you are, baby. Please.” He listened to your sniffs and soft sobs for a minute. He waited patiently for you to answer him. His head was buzzing, a headache was slowly tearing its way through, his eyes were hurting from all the silent crying he was doing and he was cold.
He craved your hug. They always made him feel warm.
“Transviolet,” you whispered. “I don’t wanna see you, though. Just makes me wanna cry.” Bucky sighed. He knew where you were now, and even though it was going to hurt you to see him, he had to make sure that you were alright and safe. Taking a deep breath, Bucky looked around. Surprisingly, he was very close to Transviolet.
“Five minutes, baby,” he said. “I know you don’t wanna see me, but I wanna make sure you’re alright. Don’t go anywhere, okay?” Bucky quickly crossed the street, using his long legs to his advantage; he started to take big steps, almost running. “Stay with me. Stay on the phone.” He heard your soft hum of approval.
“Dunno if I ever stop,” you murmured when he round the corner to the street that led to the bar you were waiting for him.
“Stop what, honey?” Bucky kept the conversation going, he had to. He couldn’t let you go non-verbal on him while you were this drunk. You could go as much non-verbal as you wanted to when he was near you.
“Loving you,” you answered him, and Bucky stumbled over his next step. All this time, Bucky somehow always knew that you were in love with him, but hearing it was a total different experience. He didn’t know hearing it could get addictive, though, it was new.
Clearing his throat lightly, Bucky carefully voiced his words: “Do you want to? Truly, I mean.” You hummed. Bucky started walking again, and he could actually see the sign: Neon purple color was winking at him in the middle of the night. His feet quickened their pace.
“No,” you murmured. “But I should.” Bucky felt his heart break into the nth piece with your words, but he deserved them. He deserved to hear those words, but he did not deserve you. He sighed. “You hurt me so much, but make me feel like I’m someone who can be loved. It’s weird.” Bucky faintly smiled at your whiny voice.
“Is it?” He said, just to keep you talking. He was so close now, and he could actually see you standing in front of the bar. You were against the wall, arms folded against your chest, and you were trembling slightly. Bucky frowned. “I’m almost there, honey,” he murmured. You hummed again. Looking around, Bucky started running towards you when he didn’t see any cars on the street. His arms were itching to wrap around you.
Bucky ended the call when he stepped onto the sidewalk you were standing on. You lifted your head and looked at him a little sleepily. “Hey there, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered. You smiled widely. Bucky smiled at you right back. Scooping you up in his arms, he held you against him tightly. “Let’s get you home, alright?” You nodded, leaning into his touch. He called an Uber while never releasing his hold on you. You probably had your coat and bag inside, and he had to get you your coat, you were freezing. “C’mon,” he murmured as he led you inside. You shivered when the warm atmosphere of the bar hit your frozen body.
Quickly finding your bag and coat, Bucky put them on you but slung your bag over his shoulder. You were leaning into him fully, now, totally taking advantage of his newly renewed body heat. Your hair smelled like your shampoo, and Bucky felt tears collecting in his eyes again. He blinked them away. To distract himself, he pulled out his phone and opened his group chat with his friends.
what would y’all say if i were to tell you that i’m in love? pls answer honestly, he pressed sent and saw Steve and Sam writing their responses.
i would say you’re bullshitting me, Sam said, and Bucky rolled his eyes. you don’t love, barnes, he added.
ditto, Steve sent. you only make them fall in love and just walk away. that’s your brand, pal. Bucky felt the hurt poking him harshly again, and he closed his eyes for a second, focusing on your sweet scent to calm himself down. His phone pinged. It was Clint and Loki.
you usually just fuck them, man, you don’t love, Clint said. Ouch, Bucky thought.
sometimes you drive them to the brink of suicide, too, Loki sent, and Bucky clenched his jaw. He could see Steve, Sam and Clint objecting immediately, but it was true. It had happened once. Biting his lip, Bucky wrote a reply with shaky hands.
i do, though. i really love her, he sent. The other immediately started writing something back. i’d die for her, y’know. i really would. The ‘writing’ thing disappeared. Bucky heard a honk and looked outside. gotta go, he sent quickly and locked his phone.
“Come on, honey,” he murmured softly to you, and you whined. “Home, love, we’re going home.” You looked up at him, sleepy expression all over your face. Bucky smiled. His fingers fixed your hair with gentle moves. You closed your eyes and nuzzled his hand when it cradled your cheek.
“Mmm,” you purred adorably. “Love you,” you whispered. Bucky surpassed the soft whimper that almost crawled out of his mouth. Instead he kissed your forehead and led you to the Uber waiting for you guys outside.
Once inside the car, Bucky cuddled you against his body. Your sweet scent filling up his lungs, body next to his, he relaxed a little. You were almost asleep when he whispered: “I love you, too.”
You just hummed, burying your face into the crook of his neck while holding onto him tightly. Bucky placed another kiss on your forehead and rested his cheek on your hair.
Then, Bucky took a deep, deep, breath and let go. He let the hurt and tears mix as he cried and cried silently all the while holding you against his chest, cradling you in his arms as if you were something precious.
“I love you so much, too,” he whispered again just because he could and buried a soft sob into your hair.
It hurt so much, the pain was leaving him breathless most of the time, but Bucky was used to it.
He had been used to it for a long time. He could handle it like he did before. 
He just wasn’t sure if this time he would be able to survive it. 
2K notes · View notes
jinwoosungs · 2 years
Note
congrats for the 300 followers 🤩👏🏻, may I request a Yuta Okkotsu x f! reader that they have a drive-in cinema date plz?👀
thank you for being my first requester @anzaisaki ♡ i will happily write this for you 🥰
rei's daydreams come true event
.: request 1 - enjoying a drive-in date with yuta okkotsu :.
you were practically buzzing with excitement as you packed all of your favorite snacks in preparation for your date with yuta.
it had been such a long time since you and your boyfriend were able to unwind due to your busy schedules, so when you were both able to share a weekend off, of course you would take advantage of it.
yuta thought it would be a great idea to enjoy watching a movie at the drive-in, and you immediately agreed. nothing could beat cuddling close to your boyfriend as you enjoyed a movie together, and the fact that you would be in the comfort of your car made it all the better.
because then, if the movie got too boring, then you could simply preoccupy yourself with starting a make-out session with your beloved boyfriend.
a sudden knock was heard at the kitchen, and you saw yuta peek through the opening, wearing a white hoodie with some dark jeans as he grins widely at your bag filled with snacks. "you ready for our date, love?"
"of course! and i packed all of our favorites, too!" with a bounce in your step, you hold the bag of treats close to your chest and give yuta a quick kiss on his lips. "let's go, but you're driving!"
"of course, anything for my princess. here, let me take those for you."
with his keys in hand as he places your snack bag beneath his arm, he gently coaxes you out of your shared apartment before locking it. as you made your way to his car, you asked him, "so what movie are we watching?"
yuta opens the passenger door for you, allowing you to settle in your seat before settling the bag of snacks against your lap. upon hearing your question, yuta flashes you a secretive smile, almost mischievous with the way his eyes seemed to suspiciously gleam with excitement. "you'll see when we get there."
his vague answer makes you frown a bit, but in the end you decided to shrug and simply trust his judgment.
after all, you had been looking forward to this date all day. yuta had told you it was best to go to the drive-in when it was completely dark outside, so when night came around 7pm was when you both left the apartment to head to the drive-in theater.
it takes roughly 30 minutes to arrive at the drive-in, and throughout the ride, you kept asking what movie you were going to watch, trying to get even the simplest of hints from yuta. yet infuriatingly enough, your boyfriend remained completely silent, keeping his lips sealed through your questions as that stupidly soft grin of his kept mocking you.
so when you finally arrived at your destination, and you saw the title of the newest horror movie was going to be played, you swallowed thickly.
let's just say...you weren't a big fan of horror films, especially ones that dealt with sleep paralysis and your nightmares suddenly coming to life just to kill you.
but of course, you should have realized yuta would choose a horror film to watch. he's admitted to you countless of times that those movies were his favorites to watch with you-
and you truly didn't know if yuta was trying to torture you or not.
after paying for the admission ticket, yuta finds a good parking spot directly in front of the big screen. you could practically feel the excitement coming off of him in waves as he kept grinning to himself.
as if sensing your fear, yuta looks at you and sees your panicked expression. wanting to ease your anxieties, he reaches out a hand to brush back at your hair, "hey, relax. i was really looking forward to watching this movie, and i'm happy to be able to watch it with you." his sweet smile was almost enough to make your fears melt away, since he admitted to how much he wanted to see this film-
but it wasn't enough.
"yuta, you know how much i hate horror films like this. they freak me out, especially the ones where they make a simple and necessary task like sleeping become a nightmare. i can handle ones with the fake gore and cheap jump scares, but not this."
"aw but babe, those horror films are the best ones! ones that elicit real life fears deep inside of you are what makes horror films so good!" he grins at you once more before slowly sliding his seat backwards, giving it a bit more space as he gestured to his lap. "tell you what, if my princess gets scared, then you can just lean over to my side and stay on my lap. you can hide your face within my neck and i'll let you know when the scary part is over. does that sound good?"
you give him a stiff nod, already rummaging through your bag to get your favorite snack out, "f-fine, but you better keep your promise, yuu!"
"of course, i look forward to it."
believing you had misheard him, you glance back at yuta, "what did you just say?"
"nothing." he smiles at you once more, reaching in to grab a snack while popping it in his mouth, all while chewing it with a wink at you.
you roll your eyes at him, doing your best to distract yourself when the movie starts and yuta begins to tune in to the radio station. the sounds reverberates through you, and you tried to keep your shivering at a minimum.
your eyes remained glued to the screen for roughly 15 minutes when the first nightmare began. the dark colors kept swirling around as flashes of deep purple and red flooded your vision. through the haziness, you could make out a disfigured face of the demon currently haunting the protagonist's dreams as you let out a whimper.
unable to take it much longer, you immediately crawled over to yuta's lap, feeling him welcome you with open arms as he gently presses a kiss against the top of your hair. your face was buried against his shoulder, and you felt your boyfriend rub comforting circles around your back.
when a bloodcurdling scream was heard, yuta decided to turn off the volume to distract you with kisses, wanting to ease your fears if only for a little bit, "don't worry princess, nothing is ever gonna get you. after all, you've got a special grade like me protecting you."
"y-yeah, i know that, b-but still, now i'm too nervous to sleep." you gasp, feeling yuta trail kisses down your throat as you felt him chuckle against your skin. "hey, wanna know a secret?"
"mhmm." you shakily reply, turning back as your eyes were suddenly glued to the big screen once more as you watch the protagonist running away from the demon through a maze.
"i don't like horror movies at all. in fact, sometimes they scare the shit out of me, too."
this sudden revelation makes you gasp, forcing you to fully look at yuta, "you jerk! i-if you hate them too, then why do we keep watching them?!"
"well, because every time you get scared, you always climb on to me like this." he chuckles sweetly at you, "and i like it when you depend on me like that. like i'm your knight and my sole purpose is to protect you."
"you're such an idiot okkotsu yuta...!" you were so exasperated with him, yet your dweeb of a boyfriend simply gives you that goofy, lovesick expression of his. "yeah, but i'm your idiot."
finding yourself falling even deeper in love with this idiotic boy, you couldn't help but melt at his sudden suggestion, "now, let's both ignore the film and kiss our fears away for good measure."
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wizkiddx · 3 years
Note
hiii!!! omg please please pleasee do a part two of 3 hearts broken cus it fucking slaps miss girl
part 2 to 3 broken hearts!!! ive been so 🥺 at all the lovely comments+interest pt 1 had so thanku all !
summary: serious serious angst again will tom somehow get it back (unlike looking cos boy is a fool)
warnings: again lots of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) / wayyyy too much tea / slating Dom abit (obvs fictional but idk if I like the guy sorry his opinions are :/) / commitment issues
/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
read part 1 here!!!!
That was three days ago now. Three days since you'd spoken to your boyfrien- well, Tom. It wasn't evident what the situation was.
The typical British weather brought with it the most ironic pathetic fallacy you could ever see. The clouds were dark and glooming, firing angry pellets of rain out as hard as they could. When you had pulled up on the roadside, it had just been a light drizzle but synchronised with your anxiety levels rising - so did the rain. When you finally opened up the car door, you threw your hoodie open with a sigh before running up the pathway to the front door.
It was the same burgundy red that you knew so well, but this time instead of just letting yourself in - you stood in the rain used the brass knocker thing twice. To be honest, you were hoping that no one was home - but in that house, it was pretty unlikely. After 30 seconds of getting drenched in the downpour, you were about to let yourself in with the spare key before the door swung open.
"Oh! Er Y/n?"
"Yeh um hi." You had to shout a bit over the sound of what must now be classified as a storm.
"Toms not-"
"I know. Can I come in?" As awkward and stunted as this conversation was, if you didn't get out of the rain asap you would literally end up drowned.
“Oh er yeh-yeh yeh come in.”
Harry stammered as he held the door open, gesturing for you to enter into the tiled hallway. Gratefully, you followed, throwing your sopping wet hood back down and wiping your feet on the floor.
"Sorry for just showing up, but I left some scripts here. My management are on my arse to read them and-"
"And you waited till Tom left for mum and dads?" The fluffy-haired boy has caught you red-handed; there was no defence, so you didn't even try.
Because yes, you knew on a Friday afternoon when Tom was home he would always, like clockwork, go to his parents just to kick back and watch gogglebox with both of them. It was only natural then that you chose Friday afternoon to come and pick up your stuff.
"I've been waiting in my car for half an hour till I saw him leave." Harry half laughed at that, still the two of you standing opposite each other in the hallway. "Um, do you… do you hate me Harry?"
Clearly, he hadn't quite been expecting your question going by the way his eyes almost bugged out his head.
"No, I-I, of course, I don't… look, I'm home alone so you fancy a cuppa?" Not being able to help the small chuckle, you nodded appreciatively, following Harry through the house.
"Your answer to everything is tea."
Harry had prepared the two mugs in silence as you sat at the table waiting patiently - if nervously too. You didn't miss how Harry had still used your favourite mug, having had to dig through the cupboard to find the weird square-shaped thing. Once done, he rounded the kitchen island and placed it in front of you, which you instantly cradled in two hands - for the hope of warming you up.
"You cold?" Obviously, it was pretty evident that sitting in your rain-soaked hoodie was not cosy at all. "Hang on a sec."
The boy sprung up again, returning moments later with a hoodie in hand, one he offered out to you with a little smile. The issue was that him and Tom shared clothes, so the hoodie he was kindly offering to you also had been worn by Tom before. Which made it hurt a little bit to wear. It was better than sitting soaked through though.
"How have you been then?"
"Not the best, to be honest, but uh… how about you?"
"Being with Tom while he's fighting with you? Oh, it's a barrel of laughs. You might've escaped it, but I haven't." He was trying to lighten the mood, and you appreciated it, offering him a half-smile that didn't really meet your eyes.
"Yeh sorry about that."
"Don't apologise; it doesn't sound like it's your fault Y/n."
That surprised you. Tom, especially when he was in moods like he was when you argued, wasn't one to admit when he was wrong. It was usually how the world was against him and how he was so hard done by. Accepting responsibility was something he hadn't said to you yet - but at least, small steps.
"He say that?"
"Pretty much… doesn't seem like he's angry at you, but-but he's still angry."
"At the world?" You rolled your eyes; this seemed to be the same old Tom through and through. Still immature. Still not with the right mindset.
"At himself." Harry countered, slightly entertained, when he saw the flash of surprise in your face as he sipped his drink. "And me… if I dare to so much as breathe this week."
This time you properly laughed, and Harry joined in too before the room fell back to silence - except the noise of the rain hitting the garden patio slats. You swirled the tea round in your mug, feeling the brunette's eyes on you. He'd always been your fake little brother too, since you'd met the Hollands way back 3 and a half years ago. Tom and yourself were barely adults, which meant the twins were still proper children. Harry had always been the one that understood you. Hollands, by nature, loved humans - loved to talk, to chat, to gossip. But sometimes, doing all that socialising got too much for you, as it did for Harry. He was the only one that seemed to understand social exhaustion. So when those moments had hit, you'd kept each other company in silence.
He got you, sometimes in ways your own boyfriend didn't.
"You know why he got so worked up, right?" You shook your head, looking up curiously. "Dad got under his skin on his birthday zoom thing."
Ah, now that did seem to coincide with the start of Tom's more petulant phase. To be fair, Tom had been asking to move in together for near enough a year now - but it was only in the past month it seemed to be the only thing you'd talk about and obviously only three days since the flight back. Dom's birthday barely a week ago, whilst you and Tom were both filming - except Tom had managed to get a day off where you hadn't. So you hadn't heard this conversation.
"What'd he say?"
"Was talking about how he and mum were settling down at Toms age, joked about how you rejected him, said maybe you were holding out for something better."
"Something better?" Harry sighed, leaning forward onto his elbows.
"He'd seen an article just off a trashy tabloid… it named you Hollywood's golden girl or something, said you could have the pick of any person on the planet…"
Of all the people in the world, why is Tom affected by shit journalism? He knows how much bullshit people write. He knows how it's all made up, exaggerated nonsense. And what he should know, completely and totally, is how much you love him. And if he didn't, was that your fault? Had you done something wrong, something to make him doubt you?
Harry seemed to notice the internal dialogue going on in your head, adding to the point. "It wasn't the article though, it was the fact dad said it."
Hmmm.
You and Dom got on; it wasn't like you hated the possible future father in law or whatever. Just…. you had very different outlooks. As much as Tom prided himself on how' grounded his family keeps him' -to you at least, they aren't entirely at sea level either. They'd never really had any particular struggles in life. They were the definition of middle class, and that's about it. They lived in a posh suburb of London, had all their family still around. It was the perfect family.
And whilst you were in no illusions about how privileged your life was now. It hadn't always been. You'd never had the 'nuclear' family. Instead, only your dad and a string of dodgy and fleeting stepmothers while struggling to make ends meet. So you were just always wary of Dom, of his opinions that so often his boys took for gospel. They always seemed pretty sheltered and close-minded.
And yet, Tom was a grown man.
"I get that, I just… Tom should know that we know more about our relationship than his dad. I mean,… have I done something wrong? Made him think I'm not in this for the long haul?"
"No nonono Y/n he's just… well he's an idiot, isn't he? I don't think he properly understands why you're cautious about moving and everything. He's just an idio- "
Harry was cut off for lightly insulting his brother by the sound of the front door opening, both of your heads swivelling towards the source. You then met Harry's eyes in a panic, to which he replied relatively simply.
"Just talk to each other. For my sake." You would've argued if it weren't for the fact you were so focused on Tom's shuffling around in the entrance hallway - back early from his parents.
"Baz? Where you at? I thought I saw Y/n's car and-"
"Kitchen!!!" Before Tom could say anything else, possibly landing himself in more trouble, Harry interrupted as his chair screeched while standing up. And then Tom was just there. Standing in the doorway, his arms dropping limply to his side as he noticed you. Everything about that moment seemed to freeze, when you locked eyes with him for the first time in three days. It didn't go unnoticed, the way his Adams apple bobbed, the way his eyes widen. The boy looked plain and simply terrified.
It was Harry who broke the silence, after giving you a stern look that said 'stay'. The younger Holland boy walked up to Tom and spoke.
"Try actually talking and actually listening about your problems with each other." And then he was gone, down the hallway and up the stairs.
For a few moments, Tom stayed absolutely stationary, now staring at where Harry had been when speaking to the both of you (but mainly Tom). Long enough to put your sense of unease at an all-time high, ready to make a break for it.
"If you don't want to talk, then I can leav-"
"NO!" Apparently snapping out of it, Tom exclaimed loud enough to make you flinch from your seat. "Sorry! I-I just… I wasn't expecting to… you know, to see you."
"Yeh I just uh- just came to pick up some scripts… Harry cornered me with a tea, though; otherwise, I'd be…."
"Baz thinks the whole world could be fixed with tea."
"that's what I said!" You instinctively responded, forgetting the fact you're supposed to be mad at him, and just for a second falling back into your normal flow.
Tom didn't even try to hide his grin in response, until you quickly corrected your face- then he did too. Turning around to put the kettle on for himself. Because right now, he needed to fix his whole world, and he needed all the help he could get. For a period, the only noise was the sound of the kettle boiling, then the teaspoon clinking against the mug as he stirred - until he padded over, taking the seat across from you.
"So."
"So."
"It's been a while," Tom stated the bloody obvious.
"You never called."
"Didn't think you'd want me to."
You thought that the early signs weren't all that auspicious. His ability to read a situation once again failing.
"I wanted you to say something."
"Say what?"
"What do you think Tom?" He replied to the sarcastic tone by sucking in a sharp breath, holding it for a second, before slowly exhaling. As if trying to compose himself, take time to think of a response - a mature move for him.
"Well, I think you want me to say sorry? For being so moody and not waiting for you and for upsetting those kids. And thanks too, for covering for me?"
You just hummed. Waiting for him to continue. Because yes, you did deserve all those things. But you also deserved more. An apology for, oh I don't know, saying he didn't think you loved him? It was a wait that never ended, he had nothing more to add.
"Going by your face, I take it I missed something?"
The bloody cheek of it.
"Theres nothing else? Nothing else at all? …" You gave him that chance, the opportunity but all he could respond with was a shake of his head. "You thought I was fine about you saying that I don't love you?" You hadn't intended on raising your voice, but really you hadn't realised you did till after the fact. To blinded by rage at his ignorance.
"You want to talk about this now?"
"When else Tom?" You sighed, realising he perhaps wasn't ready for this conversation. Maybe he needed more time to think things through, have sense talked into him by various wiser family members. Or maybe, he never would be. That was the worst-case scenario. But also… you're most likely prediction.
He shuffled in his seat, clearing his voice but not saying anything. Not a peep.
"I have spent three years of my life with you. I've had countless nights of too little sleep because that was the only time you could facetime. I've exposed my relationship to the world and people's opinions because you didn't want to hide. All I've done is love you. How could you even say that?" There might've been tears in your eyes, yet you were determined to keep them at bay. You needed to have this out, one way or another, to be clear and cohesive and logical. No time to cry.
"Y/n I know that, I…" He sighed, instinctively reaching for your hand, but you were quicker to pull it away. There was hurt in his eyes, but so there should be. "It just sometimes feels like that's it for you. That yeh you love me but you just want to standstill. That this is as much as it'll ever be."
Your emotions were suddenly uncontainable. Your voice croaked as you whispered, "Have I done something wrong?"
"No love, nonono if that's how you feel then that's okay. But it's something I'm not… shit this is hard." He took a pause to take a sip of his drink, your glazed eyes never leaving his. "I don't think I can stand still anymore. And yeh I was pissy and childish the other day because my dad got under my skin about the whole moving in thing… But these past few days, it just has got me thinking. Because I love you, so much."
This time when he reached out to grab your hand, you actually leaned into it yourself. Not because you were giving in, but because this hurt. This hurt so fucking much that you needed something to ground you, or else god knows. Because the way he was speaking, it sounded so finite.
"I love you too."
"I do know, which is…is why this is so hard." At the very least, Tom had conceded that.
The conversation ceased to silence yet again. The room felt so cold; even Tom/Harry's hoodie was doing nothing to keep you from the endless empty cold that seemed to be coming from within.
"When I re-registered my health card last month, and I made you my emergency contact on it. I-I made you my next of kin on everything actually. I didn't think about it twice. And-and this-"You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, immediately pulling up the app onto the open page. "This is my Pinterest board for our baby's nursery theme. I know-" You paused, to quickly wipe your cheeks clear of the tear tracks that may or may not have been there. "I know it's probably a long way away, but I just love the Scandinavian theme." You laughed at yourself, suddenly embarrassed at your blabbering and quickly pulled up a different app. "And this… this was from the other week when I was helping Y/bf/n start her vows." Hands trembling as you turned the phone around for Tom to see again. "She was finding it really tricky so she said, what would you say to Tom on your wedding, so-so I made this list." You only dared to look at him when you were sure he'd be reading through that note.
It was bizarre because he looked… well, he looked happy. Here you were feeling traumatised, showing things that you'd barely even deeped how committed they were - and he was pleased? Feeling the fire burn once again inside of your chest, you quickly swiped the phone away and back into your pocket. Only then did he look up, eyes widening - presumably at quite how psychotic you looked.
"So don't you dare say that I don't want a future with you."
You said it with such force, there was a pause. Tom letting those words sink deep into his brain. The way his expression flickered minutely gave you hope. You thought he got it. You thought he really understood now.
"But why don't you want to move in then?"
There it was again. He knew why. But he didn't get it. And, probably, he never would.
You were about to crash completely. So you ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even aware of your chair crashing to the floor in your wake. You ran out of that house and away from him. Away from who you had thought was the love of your life.
?give tom a final chance w one last part?
feedback is always v v appreciated <3
tom taglist : @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08
people i think might be interestd in this (sorry if not just let me know and i'll remove the tag!!!): @obiwanownsmyass @wildxwidow @parkersvogue @coffeewithoutcaffeine @tomhollandlol @thefallenbibliophilequote @clumsymandu @hiraethenthusiast @mannien @abrielleholland @evermorehabit @niallberry @greatpizzascissorstaco @runawayolives @annathesillyfriend @letsgotothemoonlight @lovelybarnes
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somnambulants · 3 years
Note
i love your writing!! could you maybe do something with exes to lovers with nat?
word count: 3.9K notes: thanks for the request! i’m glad you like my writing! i also may...have started thinking about writing a second part because im super attached to this fic. let me know if thats something you guys would be interested in!
“Barton, you’re such a –“
Your world stops turning at the sound of that voice, everything else becoming static. It doesn’t matter that you’re standing in a room full of people that you’re supposed to be impressing.
It’s been over ten years since you’d last heard that voice.
Vaguely, you know that Captain America is speaking to you but the only thing you can pay attention to is her.
You turn slowly, and the second you lay eyes on her you know for sure.
It’s definitely her.
You see it the second she spots you too.
In all the time you’d known her, she’d always been so much more proficient at hiding things than you but you still see the way her eyes widen as she takes you in and the way her face shifts into something that resembles shock before she manages to mask it.
“Nat!”
You startle a little, having now somehow completely forgotten that Captain America was next to you and that you were in the middle of a tour of your new workplace the second you’d landed eyes on her.
Oh god.Your new workplace.
Your new workplace that was also clearly her workplace.
As she approaches, you futilely look for every possible way you can escape. “This is Y/N. Fury’s informant while Agent Emery is on reconnaissance. Y/N this is Natasha Romanoff.”
Natasha? Romanoff? Absurdly, you have the sudden urge to laugh.
She really couldn’t have come up with a better name after fleeing the country all those years ago? It’s a surprise to you that you hadn’t heard about her sooner with that alias.
Pushing that thought away and hoping that your face shows the professionalism you’re trying to convey, you straighten your spine and clear your throat. “Nice to meet you.”
Captain America’s eyes flick between the both of you. Maybe you’re not doing as good a job as you’d thought.
Natalia-Natasha takes the hand you extend to her and shakes it. “Likewise,” she says, and you hate the way your body still reacts to her voice all these years later; hate the way her touch still makes you feel.
Even more so, you hate that you don’t know what it is you’re feeling more of as you look into her eyes: fury or heartbreak.
She makes a flimsy –well flimsy to you – excuse and leaves the conversation after that. You watch her walk away, clenching the hand she’d touched into a fist as you resist the urge to put it through the wall next to you.
Somehow you think you’d have a hard time explaining it to the man still standing next to you, who is now watching you with a thoughtfully puzzled but not suspicious expression.
Not yet, anyway.
--
Your dreams that night are fitful and full of her. The first time you’d met, you’d been nothing more than children.
There are no children in red room though. Only fighters and a fighter, she definitely was.
You? Not so much. You’d never been designed to last more than a day in that place and you wouldn’t have, if not for her.
Natalia throws you back against the mat, again and then again and again. Each time you stand up with more difficulty until eventually, she throws you down so hard your vision blurs for a second.
You never had a chance against her, something you knew before you even stepped foot into the room and you know they must have known that too when they set you up against the most experienced fighter here.
It’s abundantly clear you’ve been set up to fail.
The next time she hits you, your legs give out beneath you and you can’t bring yourself to get up this time, even though you know what’s going to happen to you if you don’t.
You know how this works.
Bracing yourself for impact, you close your eyes and wait. It’s pathetic. You know.
The final blow never comes. When you finally crack open an eye, you find Natalia, arms crossed, just gazing down at you.
It might have been your imagination but her eyes don’t seem quite as hard as they had been before.
She extends a hand after a second of her just watching you and you watching her. A little part of you is convinced it’s a trick; that the second you take her hand, you’re going to fail whatever test this is.
Still, against your better judgement you take her hand and, rather than the macabre images playing out in your mind, instead she actually helps you stand, surprisingly gentle as she does so.
She gives you a second to reorient yourself and then her whole demeanour changes, turning cold and stiff as she crouches down back into a fighting position.
“Try again.”
Just as abruptly, you’re thrown into another and another. Quick flashes of the past that still haunt you.
Natalia taking you on your first mission.
Natalia holding your hand as you cried over the body of the first man you’d killed.
Natalia lying beside you on your mattress, running her hands through your hair gently when your nightmares became so bad you’d go days without sleeping.
Years and years of training. Years of bruises and broken bones. Mission after mission. Somehow, it’s all maybe not-quite worth it but it almost is – almost – because of her.
When you kiss her for the first time, you think that might be the first time either of you has had any control over what you do with your bodies. 
You can't remember a time where you'd had something you'd ever wanted and you wanted her so badly.
You can’t get enough of it. Or her.
And then, one day, you wake up and she’s just... gone. 
--
The next morning, feeling irritable and exhausted from your disturbed sleep, you walk into the avengers training room and find the one person you’d been hoping wouldn’t be there.
Of course, your mind spitefully whispers because of course it wasn’t enough for the universe to thrust her back into your life but it had to throw her in your face too.
When you enter, she has her back to you but you know she knows you’re there by the way her back stiffens slightly.
You watch as she stands up straighter at the words you throw at her back, unable to help yourself: “What is this? Babysitting duty? I think we’re passed that, aren’t we?”
She turns to you. “I usually come here early,” is all she says. She doesn’t respond to the bite in your voice.
You make a non-committal sound and then just decide to ignore her, stomping past her to make your way to the far corner of the room. You work by yourself in peace for about ten minutes before you hear the sound of footsteps and all of a sudden she’s in front of you.
“I need a partner,” she says. 
You have the urge to laugh in her face, before it strikes you how cathartic it would be to punch her right now, no matter how childish it might be, so you stand, letting the weight you’d been holding drop back to the floor with a loud thud, and follow her across the room.
You both crouch down in anticipation and you take a second to really look at her.
Her expression is unreadable. The pang you feel when you realise that surprises you.
There had been a time when you’d known her like the back of your hand and now she's nothing more than a stranger standing in front of you.
It hurts a lot more than you’d thought it would.
--
This continues for weeks. You don’t know why you let it happen but you do. You get up early; you go to the gym; you spar with her and then you fulfil the duties you’d been hired to do.
It’s almost easy to slip back into that headspace of your whole life revolving around her. Because it does. All you do is think about her when you’re not around her.
Over those weeks, you still barely speak a word to her because at least if you don’t speak, you have some kind of power.
To your surprise, she lets you ignore her, lets you pretend you don’t hear her whenever she speaks and you resent her a little more for that. You’d rather she hated you as much as you want to hate her.
It would make it all so much easier.
--
Eventually, though, you break.
You’re not strong enough to ignore your desire to know everything; to know how she’d ended up here. And why she’d clearly cared enough to stick around and try and save the entire world when you, a single person, hadn’t even been worth enough for her to stay.
“Why,” you pant, mid spar one morning. She’s kicking your ass, as usual. “Why here? Why the avengers?”
You’d sworn to yourself you’d never ask her this question but the yearning to know has been burning inside you since you’d walked into this building over a month ago now.
Equally as breathless, Natasha drops the careful façade she’d had up and looks at you with those eyes; the ones that could have made you do anything at one point in time. You’re not convinced they still couldn’t. “I wanted to do better… be better than what we were…. Isn’t that why you’re here, too?”
That answer hurts you more than any of the hits she’s landed on you this morning. And there’s been a lot. She’s still the superior fighter, even if she had left so long before you.
God, those words hurt to hear. Especially to have you lumped in with the clearly bad part of her life, whether it was her intention or not.
Maybe that’s why you say what you say next. Maybe there’s a little part of you wishes this whole situation would hurt her as much as it hurts you.
“How… uncharacteristic of you,” you ignore the last part of her sentence because honestly: you don’t know why you’re here. You feel like you’ve been lost and drifting your whole life and the only thing that had ever made sense to you was her.
You know your bitterness has bled into your voice with your words but you don’t make any effort to mask it. And if you can hear it, she definitely can too.
In the blink of an eye, she stops sparring with you, straightening up quicker than even you can catch. You let out a breathless huff of air as she grabs the front of your shirt pulling it so you’re forced forward until you’re almost nose to nose with her.
You hate that for a split second, before you can control yourself, you lean in slightly. As much as your mind can’t stand her, your body has no such feelings and it still wants her. You know you have no hope of hiding it from her so you don’t even bother.
“You don’t know me,” she says. The words come out of her mouth fiercely but the look in her eyes is soft, beseeching, like she wants you to hear her. “I'm not that person anymore.”
Like it matters.
It’s like you’re suspended in time for a second, and all you can think of as you look into her eyes is of the woman you knew.
You hate that you still miss her.
There’s a flicker of something in her eyes that you want to believe mirrors the torrent of emotions currently taking over you – the sadness, the anger, the grief – but you know better than to have hope when it comes to her.
You know all too well how it ends. And you’ve had enough of false hope.
Typically, in a fight, you know Natasha would come out on top – has every time -- but she’s never had your anger directed at her the way it is now and she isn’t expecting the way you’re practically vibrating with it as you shove her away, so hard that she stumbles backwards, only just managing to stay on her feet.
“Clearly,” you spit at her as you straighten up, and start walking towards the exit.
You know she’s still just standing there in the same spot. You can feel her eyes on you.“Yeah, run away,” she mutters under her breath.
It’s the first time she’s shown you the attitude you’d been giving her for weeks and her reaction is justified, you can admit it, but you don’t care.
You spin around, fury overtaking you as you advance on her until you’re pinning her against the wall behind her. “Sorry,” you hiss, glaring into her eyes. “I forgot you’re the only one who can do that.”
“That was different.”
You laugh. It’s not a nice one. It sounds like an injured animal trying to claw it’s way out of your throat. 
“Why? Because it was you doing it? Excuse me for not being —“
All of a sudden, she’s kissing you. Or you’re kissing her.
Either way, you’re kissing and you don’t know how exactly it happened but you know that you can’t get enough of her; can’t get her close enough even though there’s no longer even an inch of space between you.
She flips your positions, tugging you closer, and you’re abruptly bathed in cool air as she rips your shirt off you, shoving you against the wall.
Your heart picks up rapidly as she kneels in front of you, easing the rest of your clothes off in one fluid moment.
“I hate you. So much,” you tell her as you step out of your pants and it’s not convincing even to you. Still, you repeat it again and again as she kisses down your body – so tenderly and gently that your voice starts to wobble.
You hate it. You hate her.
She looks up at you from in between your legs, now on her knees. It’s such a vulnerable position that you find you can’t look at her and you have to close your eyes. Natasha digs her nails into your thighs as she forces them apart.
“Look at me,” she demands. Her grip tightens until you obey; you know you’re going have crescent shaped bruises tomorrow. Her gaze is soft and tender and just all consuming. You know there’s no coming back from it. You’d never had a chance, even back when you didn’t mind not having one. “Don’t look away.”
You don’t, not even when she finally, finally, touches you and your head falls back against the wall. 
You hold her gaze the entire time knowing how incredibly stupid this is and not caring at all about how much you’ll regret it later when you’re thinking straight.
--
And regret it, you do.
You stop working out early. You walk the other way in the halls if you see her. You know people are catching on that something is going on between the both of you; have caught multiple avengers giving you quizzical looks whenever you’re in the same room and it makes you feel even worse than before.
You channel all that regret into something more meaningful and commit to doing a damn good job at what you were actually here for. And you do. You can admit you do a fantastic job.
Every time you hand a report in or come back from a mission, you swear see a glimmer of approval in Fury’s eyes. Something you’d heard was notoriously hard to come by.
You must have done something really shitty in a past life though because after weeks of throwing yourself into your temporary duties, you walk into your temporarily office and are immediately flagged down by Fury, who debriefs you on the details of a mission he’s sending you on.
You’re thrilled for about three seconds until you see the name of the person you’re going with.
Agent Natasha Romanoff.
Fury is looking at you with a scrutinising expression when you look up from the file. Every time he looks at you it’s like he can see inside your soul. “Is that a problem?”
You grit your teeth and force yourself to smile. “Of course not, sir.”
--
It is a problem. A big problem, in fact.
You don’t speak to her on the flight there. Even though it’s only the two of you confined in the aircraft. You don’t even so much let yourself look at her. You can feel her looking at you multiple times, though, even though she’s piloting and should only be looking at the course in front of you.
There are no words exchanged between you all day beyond the times you absolutely have to speak. 
At least not until you reach the tiny hotel room you’d been given.
The second the door closes behind you both, she turns to you and opens her mouth and maybe it’s cowardly but you cut her off before she even start speaking.
“I’m going to have a shower,” you say and flee the room with your entire carry-on, worried that if you pause to sift through your things, she’ll keep talking.
Still in the same spot, the look on Natasha’s face when you emerge from the bathroom is full of clear exhaustion. You hate the way it makes you feel. Empty. Sad. It’s exhausting for you trying to convince yourself you hate her.
“I’m sorry I left,” she says and you freeze. “I wanted to come back. Find you. I just didn’t know - i didn’t know if you even wanted me to.”
You’ve wanted to hear those words for so long. Now you have you don’t know what to do. “Why did you leave?”
She hesitates. The look in her eyes tells you you’re not going to get a full answer. That as open as she’s trying to be, you still don’t get to know why she abandoned you. “It’s a long story.”
The evasion stings. “An apology means nothing if you won’t tell me why.”
It’s an unfair thing to say. You know that but you don’t really feel like being fair right now.
You chance a look up when she doesn’t respond and find her looking down at the floor. It makes you wonder what — or who — she must still be protecting by not telling you. 
It becomes apparent that she’s not going to say anything else after the silence between you drags on long enough that the tension in the air becomes almost unbearable.
You don’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing the tears in your eyes so you flick the light off and turn the lamp on your shared nightstand off, throwing the both of you into immediate darkness. It’s definitely too early to be sleeping but you don’t care.
Eventually, after laying there rigidly for what feels like hours and listening to the sounds of Natasha tossing and turning in the other bed, you finally fall asleep and are immediately thrown into dream after dream that quickly turn into fitful nightmares.
Nightmares that may be more aptly called memories. After one particularly bad one that thrusts you back into consciousness, you bolt upwards, still half asleep. 
You only narrowly manage to avoid bumping straight into Natasha, who’s hovering above you, because of her hand on your shoulder holding you in place.
You flinch away from her instinctively and she backs up to give you a little space.
The only sound in the room is your heavy and desperate gasping for air. Natasha, now perched on the very edge of the bed, bites her lip, looking at you as if she knows exactly what you’d been dreaming about.
She probably does. It doesn’t take a genius to guess.
“Are you –"
“I’m fine,” you say flatly. You stare up at the ceiling, absently counting the tiles as you try to slow your breathing.
You’re hyperventilating, you know it, you just can’t get yourself to stop. You’re also sweating, it’s disgusting. You can feel how all of your clothes are stuck to you. Your hair flattened to your neck.
If you hadn’t been dealing with this for so long, you’re pretty sure that you’d think you were having a heart attack instead of a panic attack.
But you have. Been dealing with it. It’s just something you’ve come to expect now. You just never thought she’d be here to witness it.
All of a sudden, as you’re still trying to calm your breathing, the bed dips below you.
Your eyes fly open in shock to find Natasha sliding onto the mattress beside you, still on top of the covers.
Gingerly, she rests her head on the pillow next to your head and fixes her gaze on the ceiling.
It’s slight but her hand brushes against your own a few minutes later.
You suck in a breath between your teeth, but despite yourself, you let her move closer, until she’s so close you’re almost touching, and you can hear her quiet breathing.
Against your better judgement, you let your eyes slip closed again. Seeming to understand you’re not going to push her away, Natasha shifts closer, until you’re both shoulder to shoulder, the way she used to lay next to you when you had bad dreams when you were kids.
She grabs your hand, and slowly, hesitantly, she moves it to her chest where you can feel her heart thrumming rapidly under your fingertips. Surprisingly, it still works; you breathe in and out, in out in out, in time with her heartbeat.
You must at some point fall asleep because all of a sudden you can hear birds chirping outside the window and the sounds of people outside in the street.
When you open your eyes, you expect to find the spot next to you empty and the covers unruffled, as if she’d never been there at all but to your shock she’s still there beside you, awake and on top of the covers.
The circles under her eyes make you think she must not have slept at all.
You slide out of the bed and head towards the bathroom without saying a word, where you turn the shower on and just sit under the spray for what must be at least an hour, letting the water run over you and trying not to think.
This time when you return, she’s gone.
--
The rest of the mission goes smoothly. If nothing else, you both work well together as a team. You can still read her movements like a book, and she knows to anticipate what you’re doing before you even know yourself.
The days go fine. The nights not so much. You don’t speak about it but every night you’re woken up by the same dreams and every night you wake up to find her kneeling beside you.
If you were stronger willed, you would’ve shoved her away the first time, but you can’t bring yourself to. Maybe it’s a little selfish but you can’t find it in yourself to care. 
The last night of the mission is when you finally break, though. Something shifts in the air when you wake yourself up gasping and meet her eyes. The same eyes that had been blank and lifeless in your dream. 
You know she feels the shift as well by the way she’s looking at you, cautiously hopeful.
You don’t say anything though and neither does she. You just lay there, side by side, and watch each other carefully for what could be seconds, or it could be hours.
Her eyes are begging wordlessly: Truce?
Despite yourself, as you gaze back at her, you find yourself giving in. For tonight at least.
Truce.
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Text
Joyride (Jerome X Reader)
Smut, NSFW, 18+, porn without plot, honestly just hot, nasty filth 
Do not read unless you are a deviant!
Reader is walking home down a street she knows just like the back of her hand, but today there's an unfamiliar car parked up. Paying it no mind she continues past it, but soon discovers today is not going to be any regular day when a sinister voice calls to her from the mysterious car behind her.
Vaginal fingering, blowjobs, rough sex, semi-public sex, car sex, bondage, chocking, spanking, dom/sub undertones, dub-con, strong language, murder, kidnap
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED
Masterlist
I walked that street nearly every day, to and from Gotham High. I had for years. This would be my last year as I was 18 and about to graduate.
Everything seemed as normal as ever. The pretzel cart, the lady that walked her little dog, the kids playing jump rope. A fairly quiet street. I didn't know it then, but that day would be anything, but normal.
I was approaching the end of the street where I would cross the road. There was a car parked up I hadn't seen before. Big, black with tinted windows. I didn't pay it much attention and wasn't hesitant to carry on my walk past it. I reached the end of the street and stood waiting for the traffic to quiet so I could cross over, then behind me I heard the familiar sound of a car window winding down.
"Hey, princess." A sinister voice called.
I turned to look and peering out of the black car window was him. The most dangerous, most wanted man in Gotham city. Jerome Valeska.
I'd only seen him on the news and in papers before, but even then, he had scared me. He'd brought the city to its knees and left a trail of bodies and madness wherever he went. And now he was right in front of me.  
"Can I give you a ride?" He asked with his signature smile plastered on his scarred face, voice dripping with menace.
I froze still. I wanted to run as fast as I could, but his stare glued me to my spot.
"Come on, doll. I'll be nice."
I took a step back, weighing the risk of making a run for it. He sucked his teeth and looked down for something.
"I'd offer you candy, but uh..." He pulled a gun up to the window and pointed it at me.
"... Something tells me I won't need to." His smile somehow grew bigger as he locked his eyes on mine.
My heart was beating so loud I thought the whole city would be able to hear it. I had no choice. Knees weak, I nervously walked around to the passenger side door and opened it. I sat in the seat next to him, but pressed myself as close to the window as I could. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, even if it was only by a few inches.  
"Ah, safety first. Seatbelt." He said dropping his smile and cocking his head.
Not caring weather or not he was joking, I pulled down the belt and buckled myself in. I did not want to make him angry. He grinned eerily and panic rose in my chest as his eyes burned holes in me.  
He reached a gloved hand out to my face. I flinched as he brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear and stroked his knuckles down my jaw line and neck. His hand moved lower still down my arm, only stopping when he got to my shaking hand. I was grasping my bag so tightly my knuckles had turned white. He tugged at it a few times wanting me to let go. I released the bag and he pulled it off my lap and into his.
"Let's see what we got here."
He started to rummage through my possessions pulling each one out, mostly dubbing them boring and dumping them out of the window.
"Pain killers, boring. Pencil case, extra boring. Ooh, Jolly Ranchers! Don't mind if I do!"
He popped a sweet in his mouth, threw the rest over his shoulder into the back seat and got back to snooping.
"Keys, boring. Oh! A diary! I'll save that for later! A can of mace...."
He paused then let out a loud cackle as he held the mace.
"Oh, princess! Bet you wish you'd switched this out for a gun right about now!" He continued to giggle as he dived a hand back in.
"Aha! Phone!" He dropped my bag back in my lap and opened up my flip phone.
"You won't be needing this." He smirked and snapped it, letting the two halves fall and disappear under the driver's seat. Dread began to settle in as it dawned upon me that I now had no way to call for help and my mace was lying in the street. Not that it would've been much use against him anyway.
"Ok! Let's get this party started!" His giggled as he turned the key in the ignition. He turned towards me and revved the engine.
"Vroom, vroom." He mocked.
I sat there clutching my bag, waiting for the car to start moving. He fiddled with the gear stick and then slammed his foot down on the pedal as if there was a deadly bug that needed to be squashed. The tyres screeched like they were taking a layer of tarmac with them and he took off like a boy racer.  
I let out a scream as the sudden, fast pace sent a shockwave right through me. I sent my hands searching for something, anything to hold on to. There was a turn coming up, but I noticed it too late and I was flung into the side of the door like a ragdoll. All the time the loudest noise in my ear was maniacal laughter coming from Jerome in driver's seat. He was driving like he stole it, but then again, it was entirely possible he did.
"More?" He looked at me with a mischievously.
I shook my head, breathlessly, praying to any god that was listening that he actually cared about my answer.
"I think more." He sharply turned into an empty car park and spun around and around and around. I was pressed right up against him as I clung to the bottom of my seat. He laughed and banged his hand on the wheel, continuing to spin us around.
"You stupid son of a bitch!" I screamed forgetting myself.  
"Oh, I love 'em with fire!" He laughed again.  
Then all of a sudden, he stopped. I jolted forwards like a crash dummy so hard I thought I would hit the windshield. He'd been right about the seatbelt. I stared straight ahead and tried to catch my breath, when I heard angry shouting. An employee of the restaurant that owned the car park was making his way over to us with a red face.
Jerome stuck his head out of the window.
"What's that, pal?"  
I heard more shouting.
"Ok." Jerome reached for the gun and shot the employee straight in the head. I gasped at the sound and he fell down like a sack of bricks.
"Problem solved." Jerome grinned and pocketed the gun.
I felt my stomach turn. I'd just seen a murder right in front of me. That poor man. Jerome started the car again and left the car park, where he'd left a dead body and certainly tyre tracks.
"Some fun, eh kid?" He smiled at me. I couldn't find any words to reply. He sighed.
"I hate awkward silences." He reached down and turned on the radio. He flicked through a few channels until he found one playing music he seemed to like. An old rock station.
"Now this is better!" He looked at me with a satisfied smile, but dropped it when I still didn't reply.
"How do I get you to talk? Do I gotta drop a quarter in ya?" He turned another corner onto a straight, quiet road.
"I know." He smirked with a menacing look in his eyes.  
He pushed the pedal down, once again picking up speed. He was driving like there was money on it, but I'd at least managed to brace myself this time. He slowed a little as he got in place to drive side by side with the only other car on the road. He chuckled darkly to himself and then I realized why. Fear took my senses when I saw in the not too far distance, heading straight at us was a giant truck. The driver in the car next to us began to honk the horn and flash obscene hand gestures as the truck grew closer, but Jerome simply turned the radio up and began singing along with the words.
"Jerome..." I said tugging at his arm.
Nothing. And the truck was now honking at us to move.  
"Jerome!"  
The truck was too close for comfort. The sense that I was about to be flattened because of the idiot at the wheel filled my body.
"Jerome, move the damn car!" I shook his arm fiercely and slammed my fists in my chair.
He finally burst out cackling maniacally with an outrageous smile.
He slammed down the pedal and pulled forward in front of the car beside us, missing the truck by a hair. He laughed and howled like it was the funniest thing he'd ever experienced, whilst I sighed the biggest sigh of my life and slid low down my seat. He pulled over and parked.
"Nothing like a little near-death experience to get the blood flowing, eh doll?"  
I had melted into my seat and wasn't really paying attention.
"So, how'd you like me so far?"
"Is that a serious question?" I replied breathlessly. I didn't know where I got the confidence for it, but the words were coming out.
He just giggled.
"Ok, how about I behave... For a while."
"How about you let me go?"
He lifted a long finger at me.
"Tut tut, doll face. Don't make me wiggle my finger at you."
I shuffled backwards in my seat, propping myself upright again.
"So, you know my name? Are you stalking me?" He put his hand on his chest in mock fear.
"Everyone in Gotham knows your name. You're Jerome Valeska. You've terrorised the city and murdered dozens of people. The Gotham Gazette makes sure we don't miss these things."  
"The Gotham Gazette, huh? Note to self, send a gift basket their way." He chuckled to himself then looked at me.
“So, what’s yours?”
I told him my name. I was reluctant, but I was already here in the car with him.
“Hm, cute.” He replied.
I didn’t know why, but him calling me cute made me blush a little. I hoped he didn’t notice.
“You look fun.” He smiled.
“What do you mean?” I asked the question, but I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know the answer.
He pulled my diary out of the door pocket.
“Let’s get to know you, shall we?”  
“That’s private.” I said sheepishly. I really didn’t want him reading what was in there, but I knew I couldn’t stop him.
“Not anymore.” Jerome flicked through the pages, skimming them for interesting thoughts and secrets. It didn’t look like he was finding anything juicy, until he stopped at one page and read it in its entirety.
“I got asked out by a guy in my maths class. He’s nice, but really boring. Just like everyone else in my life. Even if I wanted to go out with him, my dad wouldn’t allow it. He says men are the devil and the only one I can trust is him. Yeah right, Mr it’s 5’oclock somewhere. Even if I took that seriously, he doesn’t have anything to worry about. The only guys in my life are complete clichés. So very predictable, so very dull. I’m so bored of this same old-same old. I want something exciting, an adventure. I need some thrills in this beige goddamn existence!”
He repeated back to me the words I had written just a week prior. He turned to me with a predatory look in his eyes. He let the diary fall from his hands carelessly and I knew then that I would be his prey. He took his gloves off and reached a hand towards my knee. He stroked and squeezed my leg and then journeyed up higher, fingers crawling underneath the hem of my skirt.
“Be careful what you wish for, doll face.” He smirked, darkly.
My breath caught in my chest and I felt a warmth in my core.
"I thought you said you were gonna behave." I peeped.
"I did, didn't I? I guess I lied."  
He pulled my skirt up and ran a finger along my panty covered slit. He was turning me on. I wanted him. He was everything I had been looking for, but it was wrong. I couldn’t give in to this.
"Please... Stop..." I pleaded pathetically.
"Mmm, I don't think I will."  
He softly rubbed my folds through the white cotton. My breath got heavier and I felt the heath build.
"It would be so easy for me to push these little things out of the way and slide my fingers inside you, right now. Wouldn't it?"
"Please... Don't..."
He giggled darkly.
"Oh, princess. You're just too cute."  
He smiled as he moved the material to the side exposing my entrance. He slid his fingers up and down my slit, my juices covering the tips. I squirmed at his touch and tried to scooch back in my seat.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, doll, but you wouldn't be this wet if you didn't really want me inside you." He cooed. His words crashed into me like rocks. He could read my body just as well as my diary. I couldn't hide my desire from him and I didn’t want too.  
He continued to rub for a few more seconds before plunging a finger deep inside me. I let out a gasp at the sudden intrusion and he smirked, seemingly satisfied with my response. He worked me with his finger, pulling out before sliding it back in and deciding to add another. He slowly pulsed his fingers inside me, palming over my clit as he slid in and out, again and again. The swell of warmth in me grew as I rocked my hips.
He pulled his fingers out entirely, leaving me disappointed and empty. I looked at him as he examined the juices coating him. He smiled at me and raised them to his mouth, sucking them clean.
"Mmm. You're so sweet." He said as he lowered them, his voice now deeper and slightly raspy.
He unbuckled his seatbelt, then did mine. He pushed the bag off my lap down to where my feet were and reached his arm around my waist, pulling me backwards, closer to him. He leaned me against him as one hand travelled up from my waist and wrapped around my throat. His other came down, pulled up my skirt and parted my thighs. He pushed my panties to the side once again and introduced his other hand to my wetness. His two fingers sliding in and out, but this time a little faster and much deeper. I let a yelp escape my mouth and his hand squeezed harder around my throat. His hot breath in the crook of my neck gave me goosebumps and sent chills down my spine.  
He explored my walls entirely, hitting all the right spots, hot pleasure pulsing through my muscles as they clenched around his talented digits. He palmed my clit applying a gentle amount of pressure and rubbing in circles. I bit my lip in an attempt muffle my moans.
"Nuh uh. Let me hear you, baby girl." He taunted in my ear.
Two fingers from the hand around my throat pulled my mouth open and played with my tongue.  
"You got something to say, princess?" He pushed his fingers deeper into me until his knuckles stopped him from going any further and pumped them, his thumb circling my clit in sweet slow motions. A loud moan escaped my throat and he smiled evilly.
"That's better." He snarled as he put his full hand back around my throat.  
My legs started to stiffen and I felt my climax build as I tightened around his fingers.
"You wanna cum, baby?"  
He worked his fingers inside my walls and his thumb on my clit, slightly increasing the pressure. His breath came closer to my ear and I felt him take it gently in his teeth. I yelped at the shock of his bite.  
"Mm. So cute."
I rocked my hips against his hand. My release was close, it just needed a little push.
"Cum for me, princess. Cum on my fingers."
As if on his command, the dam burst and my climax washed over me. My legs shook and I moaned as I rode it out. He pulled his fingers out of me slid them in my mouth so I could taste my own juices.
“See, gorgeous. I can play nice.” He buried his face in my hair and took in my scent. He hummed to himself and I felt his grip on my throat tighten. He pulled me forwards and pushed me towards the back seat.
“My turn.” He grinned as he sat up.
I climbed into the back, closely followed by Jerome. I sat down and he straddled me, towering over me with his red hair brushing against the car ceiling. I saw the outline of his hard member pushing against the inside of his trousers. It was right in front of my face and my mouth watered for it. I suppose he caught me looking because he started to palm himself and lifted my chin up so I was looking at him.
“Do you have something sweet for me?” He leaned down closer to me, his grip on my face tightening.
I swallowed and felt the lump in my throat. He crashed his lips onto mine. The kiss was hard and forceful, just like he was. His tongue pushed into my mouth and fought for dominance over mine. It was an easy win for him. He tasted sweet, like the Jolly Ranchers. I assumed that wasn’t the first candy he’d eaten that day. He pulled away from me and smiled, studying my face with hooded eyes.
“Yummy.” He whispered.  
He rose back up and unbuckled his belt. He pulled it from out of its loops, held it in front of him and snapped it quickly. I flinched at the loud sound of the leather.
“Hands.” He ordered in a serious, intimidating tone that aroused me all the more.
I held my hands up to him and he looped the belt in and around my wrists, tightly bonding them together.
“No hands for this. I wanna see how that pretty little mouth works.” He smirked lifting my chin again, tugging my bottom lip with his thumb.
He palmed himself a little more and then unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, letting them fall around his knees. I could see through his boxers that he was fully erect already. He slid them down and they joined his trousers. Jerome was big. I was worried I wasn’t going to be able to take it all, especially without the use of my hands. He balled my hair in his hand and gripped hard. I gasped at the sudden pain.
“Come on, princess. You know what to do.” He pulled me forwards and plunged into my open mouth. He let out a hiss of pleasure.
He raked his free hand through my loose hair before clenching it in his fist. He used his grip on my head to move me up and down his shaft, prompting me to start. I swirled my tongue around him and started sucking. He hissed again through gritted teeth and pushed in further. My tongue climbed up and down his shaft, licking the sticky coating of precum from him and teasing the head. I hollowed my cheeks and bobbed up and down, letting my saliva cover him.
“Oh, yeah... Fuck, pretty girl.” He groaned in his throat and bucked his hips forwards with force.
He hit the back of my throat and I gagged. The noise seemed to please him so he did it again and again and again. My lips touched his base as he assaulted my throat, gripping tighter on my hair with each thrust. I looked up at him, tears streaming down my face and eyes begging for breath, but it just pushed him further.
He let out a primal growl and pushed my head right into the back of the seat. He held me steady and started to thrust into my face fast and hard. My throat was aching and my jaw was locking. His breath was shallow and erratic. I could tell he was close. I sucked harder for him and my throat clenched tightly.  
“Fuuuuck...” He groaned finally coming to a stop.  
I felt him throb and twitch in my mouth as his climax shot straight down my throat for me to swallow. He was still for a few seconds, then he pulled out with a pleasing pop. He looked down at me catching his breath with a smile.
“Don’t have to tell you twice, huh?” He laughed and lowered his head to kiss me.
He didn’t seem to care he’d just cum in my mouth and kissed just as rough as the first time. This time biting my lip as he pulled away. He slid his hand back up into my hair and balled it again.
“As great as that was princess, I’m still harder than Chinese algebra. So...” Jerome climbed off my lap and shoved me down onto my front.
“All fours.” He commanded.
I positioned myself on my knees and elbows, which was difficult considering my wrists were tied. I felt him roll my skirt up and part my legs. I swallowed. After having him go so rough on my mouth, I was nervous about how he was going to be with this.
“I gotta say, this is some view back here. Shame I don’t have a camera.” He said caressing my thighs.
He hooked his fingers under the band of my underwear and slid them down around my knees. I felt so exposed and my face started to heat up and turn red with embarrassment. I couldn’t believe I was allowing myself to be this vulnerable for a criminal lunatic.
He started to rub my entrance with two fingers. Warmth welling in my core, any thoughts of reservation vanished from my mind. I felt a fast, harsh sting as he brought a hand down to spank me. I gasped at the smack and he stroked the spot where it landed, where there was sure to be a red handprint.  
“Now I really wish I had a camera.” He giggled darkly.  
I squirmed at his touch and tried to close my thighs, desperate for friction, but he kept them spread by sliding his knee between them.
“Oh no, gorgeous. I need you open wide.” He smirked.
I whimpered needily, wanting nothing more than to take him inside me.
“You want something, baby girl? Speak up.” He taunted evilly, sliding his fingers along my slit. He raised his hand back up and then... another spank.
All I could do was whimper. I didn’t want to say what I wanted from him.
“I can’t hear you....” He sing-songed. “What do you want?”  
He circled a finger over my clit teasingly. He was purposefully not giving me enough. Just baiting me. He brought his hand down again for another swift spank. I was sure there was a bruise forming.
“I want you...” I whispered.
“What’s that?” He mocked, sliding his fingers in the slickness of my entrance.
“I want you! I want you to fuck me!” I snapped. I couldn’t take the teasing and taunting any longer. I just needed him.
He chuckled menacingly.
“You want me to fuck you? You wanna take me?”
“Yes! Yes! God, yes!”
He laughed at my neediness. I felt pathetic.
“Sure thing, doll.”
He lined himself up so he could enter me and pushed forwards, grasping hard onto my hips. I moaned loudly as he filled me for the first time, making a low, throaty groan. He reached deep into me and set me on fire in places that I didn't even know were there.  
He kept a quick rough pace, digging his fingertips into my flesh tighter to keep me still and steady. I knew he was leaving marks, but I couldn’t have cared in the slightest in that moment. His thrusts made me whine and whimper for him, to have more of him. He growled like he was letting out some kind of inner beast.
He let go of one of my hips and slid his hand up my back and into my hair. Once he had a good fistful, he pulled it like a leash, tugging my head up and back. I gasped at the sharp pain, but the sound only seemed to feed more into his sadistic wanting and he pounded harder into me. The feel of how deep he was inside me banished all the pain and replaced it with pure pleasure and I bit down hard on my lip to stifle wanton cries. I felt another rough tug on my hair.
“Don’t you dare, little girl. Let me hear it. I wanna hear everything.” He demanded through short, quick breaths.
He pulled back on my hair again and I released a squeal of half pain and half pure elation. I could feel myself tightening around him. I was getting ready to burst.
“I... I’m...I’m gonna...” I panted.
“Oh, no you fucking don’t.”  
He gripped the back of my scalp and pulled me backwards, slamming me down onto my back and climbing on top of me.
“I wanna see it this time.”
He had acted so fast, I barely had time to register what he was doing and he was back inside me almost as soon as he had pulled out.
He buried his head in the crook of my neck, sucking and kissing, his teeth leaving delicious hickeys and bitemarks. When he came back up for breath, he wrapped his hand around my throat and pushed my bonded arms above my head, which I was grateful for as they were getting squashed between us. He crashed his lips onto mine for a rough kiss. His tongue demanded entrance to my mouth, which I gladly allowed.
With his other hand he caressed and stroked his hand down my thigh and under my calf. He then pulled it up and pushed it back so far it almost reached my shoulder. He adjusted himself to straddle my lower thigh and picked up a faster, harder pace. With my leg like this he was able to plunge deeper. He was forceful and powerful and I relished in every thrust. I cried out completely taken by my lust for him, closing my eyes to savour it all. I felt the sting of a slap on my cheek and flashed them back open.
“Right here, princess. Eyes right here.” He said, his voice low and raspy.  
His pupils were completely dilated, leaving only the thinnest ring of green around them. He seemed to be an apex predator that was in the midst of ravaging its prey and I was only too willing to be led to the slaughter.  
“Exciting enough for ya, sweetheart?” He smirked with a fiendish giggle.
“Uh huh...” I nodded dazedly.  
His laugh continued through the onslaught of fierce, deep thrusts pounding intensely into my lower regions. I tensed around his pulsing erection as I felt my climax creep back up on me. I let out loud erotic moans, as he built up more and more of that blissful warmth in my core.
“That’s right. Cum for me.” He grunted through gritted teeth, tightening his grip on my throat.
His pounding got faster and rougher, hitting my sweet spots exactly right. I was right on the edge of what I could tell was going to be a fantastic release. I got louder and louder as I came closer and teetered the brink.
“Yeah.. I... I’m.. Yeah... I’m gonna...”
“Go on, princess. Cum. Cum for me.”  
My orgasm shattered through me like a rock through glass. My body convulsed as my moans turned into lustful screams. The ferocity of it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. The sheer ecstasy took me higher than I’d ever been before. I was on a cloud and I could have stayed there forever. Jerome followed shortly after, growling like a beast as he exploded inside me. He collapsed breathlessly on top of me as I gently floated down from that little piece of heaven.  
“Oh, baby girl. I’m keeping you!” Jerome dropped a kiss on my lips and lifted himself up.  
I came to my senses and started to register the severity of what I had done. Or had it happened to me?  
“What does that mean?” I asked, nervous of his answer.  
He pulled up his underwear and trousers and tidied himself up, even taking time to straighten his tie.
“It means, baby doll, that this is gonna be the start of a beautiful friendship.”  
He laughed his signature maniacal cackle and hopped back in the driver's seat.
“Hey! Are you gonna untie me?” I called to him starting to get very worried.
“I don’t know, doll. I kinda like you like that.” He laughed.
He turned the key in the ignition and revved the engine.  
“Hold on, doll!” He cackled again, before speeding off again.
What have I gotten myself into?
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finnyboywolfhard · 3 years
Text
Shut Him Up
Richie Tozier x Reader 
Aged up 5 years after fight with IT so they are 18 :)
summary: The Losers Club has a movie night and Richie doesn’t know how to shut up. 
warnings: cursing, fluff
word count: 2.1k 
           Popcorn popped loudly in the vibrating microwave, Y/N maneuvered around the kitchen gathering the various snacks and drinks that the Loser’s requested. She grabbed a large bowl for the popcorn as a knock pounded against the door.
“Hold on!” Y/N dropped the hot bag and rushed over to the door, pulling it open with a huff, delighted to see Beverly Marsh behind the door. “Oh thank god it’s you.” Y/N said wrapping her arms around Bev.
“You sure are happy to see me.”
“Because I know you’ll actually help me get everything set up and not just goof off. If Richie was the first one here one more time I was gonna go crazy.” Y/N explained as she walked to the kitchen, handing Bev a few bags of chips and a tray holding drinks. Y/N poured the popcorn in a bowl and grabbed the packages of candy from beside her and ushered for Bev to follow her through the corridor to her Living Room. They dropped the snacks onto the table. Y/N looked down to see she was still in her “nicer” clothes.
“Hey, I’m gonna go get changed real quick, open the door if any of them come.”
“I need you to know I’m gonna snoop.” Bev yelled out as Y/N began bounding up the stairs.
“You always do!” Y/N yelled back. Once inside her room, she rummaged through her drawers to find an old t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. She put on a pair of socks, grabbed a few blankets from her room and came back down to a room full of teenage boys. She looked around at how the chairs and couches filled up, to see that she was once again stranded on the loveseat with the chatterbox himself Richie Tozier.
“Hey Bev! I think you might have left something in my room last week, can you come with me for a sec?” Y/N yelled, just peering around the corner. All eyes looked at her.
“What did she forget?” Ben asked as Bev passed by him.
“A girl thing, there’s a reason I didn’t say what.”
“Oh so a Brassiere!” Richie said in the annoying British voice before switching back to his own. “You could have just said Y/N/N, we all know you both have tits.”
           Y/N simply flipped him off and grabbed Bev’s hand to go upstairs. The two got inside Y/N’s room and Y/N just crossed her arms and looked at her.
“What? Why are you mad?”
“How the hell did I end up next to Richie AGAIN?”
“We practically have assigned seats at this point…” Bev said trying to play it off.
“Bullshit. Last week you sat in the La-Z-Boy with Bill and this week you’re on the big couch with Ben, Mike and Stan. What is up?” Y/N stared at Bev until she finally broke.
“Okay, he has a crush on you and is too scared to tell you so he keeps asking to sit next to you and showing up first.” Y/N’s jaw hung slack for a few moments before she snapped it shut and ran her hands through her hair. She collapsed backwards onto her bed.
“Beeeevvvvvv. This can’t be happening to me.”
“Oh please, like you don’t feel the same way.” Bev said grabbing Y/N’s hands and pulling her to sit up.
“What are you—“ Y/N looks at Bev who just cocks her head as if to ask ‘are you serious?’. “Fine, maybe I do. But he NEVER shuts up during movies. It ruins the experience.”
“Just ask him to stop, he’d do anything you ask, I’m sure of it.” Bev said. “Now, we have to get down there or else they’ll know this was definitely a lie.”
The two giggle as they leave the room and go back down the stairs. Y/N hip bumps Bev as Bev goes to her seat on the couch and Y/N puts in the movie.
“Kay Stanley, what did you bring us on this fine evening?” Y/N said as she glanced down at the CD.
“Forrest Gump. It was released in theaters a few months ago, the woman at Blockbuster said that it is a must see. It has Tom Hanks.”
“Oh that’s the dude on the poster in the Arcade!” Richie piped in.
“Yeah it is Richie! Doesn’t it have umm…the woman who played Princess Buttercup…umm Ro—“
“Robin Wright!” Stanley finished her thought. “Yeah it is, so you’ve heard of it?”
“Yeah my parents saw it, they loved it. I guess we’re in for a treat.” Y/N flashed her smile to the Loser’s as she tiptoed her way to beside Richie. She couldn’t help but notice that there was only one blanket on the seat.
“Hey guys? I thought I brought down a blanket for each of us?” Y/N looked around the room, the sound of previews playing. Her eyes finally landed on Bev, who had a curious smirk across her face.
“Oh…huh…when I was distributing them there was only seven…I guess you didn’t.”
“It’s fine, I’ll just go grab another.” Before she could leave, Richie grabbed a hold of her hand.
“Don’t worry about that, just take this one. I don’t get cold.”
“Yeah, okay, sure. We all know that’s true.” Y/N said sarcastically, dropping onto the seat. The movie had only been playing for about 15 minutes and Y/N swore that Richie was leaning over and whispering something for 14 minutes of it.  
“Psst…Y/N/N…” Richie leaned over to whisper once more.
“What?!” Y/N whispered back with force.
“I actually am cold, can we share?” She looked over, he was giving her puppy dog eyes and her hard exterior was being broken with each second she held eye contact.
“Fine.” She untucked the blanked from under her and threw it across Richie’s Lap. She had to scoot closer in order for the blanket to comfortably cover them both.
“Oooh, awfully close there sweetheart. It’s almost like you like me or some shit.” Richie teased. Y/N just rolled her eyes and kept her focus onto the movie. The blanket and close proximity kept Richie quiet for a bit, but not too long.
“Y/N/N.”
“Richie, please, can you just shut the fuck up?” Y/N/N plead to him in a whisper. She looked toward him, unaware of how close they were, as their noses nearly grazed. Richie took in a breath.
“Make me.” He said, softening his frame. Y/N didn’t know what took over her. Maybe it was the fact that she wanted to actually watch the movie. Maybe it was the fact that she’s had a crush on Richie for the past two years. Maybe she’s using it as ammunition against his crush. She didn’t know for certain, but she leaned forward and kissed Richie. At first gently--longingly. But then she pulled his head closer to her for a more passionate kiss for a few seconds and then she pulled back. She sat back firmly against the couch. Richie sat dazed for a second, glancing between Y/N and his own lap before sitting back just as Y/N did.
           The credits began to roll when Mike leaned over and flicked on the lamp in the room. Everyone did the usual stretching and readjusting to light. Stan and Eddie started to small talk about the movie but their attention was piqued by Bev.
“Y/N, did you break Richie?” Bev asked, looking towards the boy who was sitting back against the loveseat, with love struck eyes and a confused look across his face. Every so often he would just look over towards Y/N and then immediately just back to his lap. Y/N glanced over for the first time since and giggled to herself a little bit.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/N said just for the ruse.
“Look at him! He’s like…glazed over.” Eddie said flailing at the boy sitting there.
“Yeah, and I haven’t heard him in like 45 minutes, that’s not normal.” Stanley agreed. Suddenly, Richie snaps out of his daze and cockily turns to Y/N.
“Come on, Y/N/N. Show them what you did to me.” Richie smirked in the cockiest way he ever has. As much as she hated it, she kinda loved it too.
“Fine, I will.” Y/N declared in the same tone, making glaring eye contact as she pulled Richie in for a kiss. It lasted for a few moments before they pulled apart. They looked at each other for a few moments.
“What just happened?” Mike said blankly bursting the bubble the two were in.
“That was so…” Eddie pauses to gag. “So fucking nasty.”
“Wow thank you Eds for those touching words.” Y/N sarcastically said.
“Are you gonna explain or are we just gonna sit here?” Bev asked.
“He wouldn’t shut the fuck up during the movie so I asked him to, and he said ‘make me’, so I kissed him. It worked.” She said, maintaining eye contact with Bev, who then started to giggle. Richie’s eyes moved between the two girls, piecing things together.
“Fuck you Bev. You fucking told her.” Richie said standing up angrily, gathering his stuff up, clearly about to storm out.
“Richie I—“Bev started to answer.
“I don’t want to hear it. You both embarrassed me, I…I gotta go.” Richie tried to get past Bill and Mike who had now formed a barrier in front of the door.
“R-R-R-Richie, just listen to th-th-them.” Bill said.
“Why should I?” Richie said. Y/N nervously stood from the love seat and turned to face the doorway.
“Because I’m in love with you.”
“You’re fucking in love with me?” Richie asked shocked.
“Let’s go upstairs, shall we?” Y/N laced her hands through Richie’s and pulls him up the stairs. She slinks through her door and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to her for Richie. He sits down, and starts wringing his hands. The silence is deafening. “Hey.” She said as she leans to bump into him.
“Y/N/N…” he said dishearteningly. As she looked at him, her gut told her to just say ‘Fuck it’.
“Richie I have had a crush on you since that day two years ago when you found me crying in the clubhouse. You just sat and listened to me, and you made me feel so…safe. It was a side of you I had never seen before. And I liked it. And then suddenly I started liking everything. Except for when you talk through movies, but everything else.” She giggled, and looked at him. She loved the way his curls framed his face and the way his brown eyes still sparkled unlike any other. She loved the way sometimes his mouth looked too big for his face. She loved the way he would overcompensate with his jokes. She loved the way he would tease and treat all of the Losers the same way, and that he cared about spending time with each and every single one of them. He was so loyal, and funny, and handsome, and he was just so utterly Richie.
“You were even pretty when you were crying.” Richie joked back. “I’ve liked you since after the fight with IT, when you asked me if I was okay. No one ever asks me that. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on to this whole fucking crush thing sooner.”
“I’m surprised you were such a pussy and didn’t make the first move.” Y/N responded back.
“Ouch, Y/N, getting me right where it hurts.” Richie pretending to stab himself through the heart and fell back onto the bed. He pulled a dead face, only for a second before he opened one eye and turned to her to see her reaction. Through breathy laughs, she leaned down to hover over the boy. His hand found a base at the nape of her neck and pulled her in for a gentle kiss. It started off sweet and soft but as they realized the position they were in, Y/N flipped her leg over his waist in order to straddle him. The kiss began to pick up speed and passion. The two started to really get into it, only to be cut off by the Losers slamming the door open.
“Oh gross! You guys! We were right down stairs!” Eddie shrieked. Y/N climbed off of Richie.
“As if I would fuck him the very first night we’re dating.”
“We’re dAting?” Richie’s voice cracked with excitement. Y/N turned to him, gave him a peck and a smiley nod yes. “Oh Fuck yeah!”
“Does this mean we’re gonna find y’all making out during movie nights now?”
“God no!”-- “Hell yeah!” Richie and Y/N responded in unison, there were definitely a few things they still needed to work out, but they were happier than ever before.
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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years
Text
The one where Damiano leaves for tour
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Description | Damiano is leaving but before he does, he is sure to give you one last taste of himself.
Content | Smut - filthy, filthy smut
Pairing | Damiano x fem!Reader
Word Count | 2123
Taglist | @mywritingonlyfans @ethaneskin @ginny-lily @tabi-toast @mnskin @ohtorchio
***
You were awoken by a harsh slap to your bare butt. Your first instinct was to sit up but you soon realised that wasn't going to happen - you were lying on your front with your hands tied behind your back. Looking to your right you immediately found the culprit.
Damiano was standing next to the bed, completely naked, staring down at you with a dangerous smirk on his face. How on earth had the bastard managed to do that to you while you were asleep? You didn't even consider yourself a heavy sleeper, so this was rather impressive. Then again, you didn't really feel like complaining. There was something dangerous, something exciting about Damiano deciding to be the dominant one for once.
"Good morning, bellezza. Hope you're well-rested."
"Don't you have a bus to catch?" You challenged. You knew he had gained the upper hand long ago - in fact, he had done so the very moment he had decided to eliminate the use of your arms - but neither of you minded the little game.
"Oh, I do. Which is why you have very little time to make sure I remember you and your sweet body while I tour all over Europe for the next two weeks."
"And how exactly do you expect me to do that?"
Damiano didn't answer as he stared down at you. Instead, he slowly let his hand travel down his body, purposely putting on a show the way he sometimes did on stage, before grasping his cock and giving himself a few strokes. You tried wriggling in your restraints to no avail. It bothered you that he was standing next to you in all his naked glory while you were still clad in the shirt you slept in and a pair of skimpy panties. You were dying to touch him, run your hands over his skin, kiss where he needed you most, but he had other plans.
In slow, calculated moves, he started walking around the bed, vanishing from your field of vision. You desperately tried to turn around to catch a glimpse of what he was doing, but the silk rope around your wrists had you moving clumsily and without proper direction. As much as you wanted to hate it, you couldn't deny the excitement that came with it. The restraint, the fact that you didn't know what was coming. So naturally, it caught you off guard when another slap landed on your bum. Your gasp was quickly replaced by a quiet moan as both of his hands started squeezing the soft flesh of your buttocks, massaging them roughly. You could feel him push your panties upward to expose more of your skin, but it only ended up giving you delicious friction between your thighs as the fabric slid up your pussy. It was beyond you how he had gotten you so turned on so quickly.
"Don't you dare be quiet," he suddenly said from behind you. You could feel the mattress dip as he moved onto the bed, straddling your legs, his bare skin touching yours. "I want to hear every moan load and clear, understood?"
You barely whimpered out a yes when you felt his cock hard and heavy, resting on your butt. Your fingers were dying to reach for him, touch him, feel the weight of him in your palm, stroke him the way you knew he liked, but you had no choice. You were at his mercy, awaiting whatever he was planning to do with you.
Damiano's fingers trailed between your legs, softly rubbing your slit over your underwear and you were certain that a wet patch was forming rapidly. You craved more, a more intimate touch, more skin, a deeper feeling, but before you could even consider voicing your thoughts, he backed off. He started leaning over you, careful not to put too much of his weight on you, until his mouth was next to your ear.
"Enjoy it while you can because I'm not letting you come any time soon."
His low voice sent shivers down your spine, just as his movements did when his cock started rubbing on your behind. A whimper escaped your lips, the anticipation becoming too much. He got onto his knees, roughly pulling you up by your waist until your butt was sticking up in the air. Your attempts to hold yourself up were futile and your face was pressed into the mattress below you. This new position left you with even less of a chance to control your own body, leaving him to decide all your movements as your face was roughly rubbing against the sheets. You couldn't deny it - this was hot.
Damiano kicked your knees apart to make some space for himself as he slid his cock in between your legs and up against your pussy, before he started moving. Every thrusting motion seemed to be accompanied by a light slap to your flesh and you found yourself jerking forward every time his cock brushed against your clit through the fabric of your underwear. You couldn't contain your moans even if you had tried.
Suddenly his hand grasped your hair in a tight ponytail, yanking you upwards, his other hand quick to support your upper body as it left the mattress until you were seated on his lap. He was relentlessly thrusting up at you, your legs situated on either side of his. You were quickly turning into a sweaty mess, heat erupting from every pore of your body, especially knowing that Damiano was not going to let your release any time soon. His mouth was too close to your ear and his groans were sending you on another high, getting you closer and more worked up but never quite enough.
His hand wound himself around your front, lightly grasping at your throat, applying just enough pressure to take away your breath for a second at a time. You loved the feel of his fingers on you.
"I think I should leave you with a few souvenirs before I go just so you don't forget who you belong to."
His mouth was now attached to your neck, sucking and biting and unquestionably leaving an array of marks on you. You desperately wanted to bury your hands in his hair, pull on it, push him towards you, but your wrists were still bound, trapping your arms between the both of you. Usually, you'd tell him off, mad that he would mark you in places so hard to hide, but you wouldn't see him for two weeks. For once, he was allowed to do as he pleased. Your fingers started gingerly touching his belly, the only thing you could reach, but it wasn't enough.
His lips and teeth were still working their magic when his hands grasped onto your breasts. He easily found your nipples through the fabric of your shirt, giving little pinches before soothing them over with the palm of his hand. You were positively losing your mind, hot flashes running through you with every move he made. Every pinch had you gasping and shaking in his arms. He was touching you too much and not enough all at the same time. If only he would finally get you naked.
Your wishes were not heard - or simply ignored. Damiano noticed you getting increasingly restless though and in one sweeping motion, he had pushed you off his lap and let go of your completely. A coldness enveloped your sweaty skin immediately, leaving you in shivers.
"Turn around so I can see your face."
It felt clumsy, staying on your knees and shuffling around, but Damiano didn't seem to mind. Upon finally seeing his face again, you realised just how into this he was and judging from your situation, you couldn't blame him. His face already looked positively fucked out. Eyes dark and hooded, lips puffed from the treatment he had been giving your neck, hair all over the place. He had never looked more gorgeous to you and it filled you with a sense of pride knowing that only you could put him into this state. Your eyes wandered down his body, taking in every single one of his features and tattoos, before landing on his cock. He was impossibly hard.
Damiano came closer to you, your head now at cock-level, and it was painfully obvious where he wanted you. You didn't hesitate. Looking up at him through your lashes you willingly opened your mouth, an obvious sign of consent in anticipation of his next move. He didn't hesitate either, guiding his hard flesh between your lips. His groan sounded like music to your ears.
You eagerly sucked him, giving him everything you had, letting go and letting your tongue run up and down his shaft before swallowing him again. Damiano's hand wandered into your hair once more, carefully pushing you further onto him. Your eyes met his for a moment, telling him everything he needed to know, telling him you were willing to get him there. You ceased your movements, opening wide and let him take over. His hand was guiding your head as he thrust into your mouth, pushing his cock in deeper than before, making you deepthroat him. Tears were forming in the corners of your eyes from the intrusion and the strain and yet you had never felt sexier in your life. His other hand quickly caught a single drop that escaped, softly stroking your cheek as he continued to move into you. You pushed your thighs together as tightly as possible, chasing some sort of friction, clenching around nothing, but it just wasn't enough.
You knew he was close, aware of all the little signs you had grown to love so much in the time you had been with him. The way his movements became more irregular, the specific kind of high-pitched moans escaping his mouth, the way his eyes fluttered closed even when he tried to keep them open. You prepared yourself for his orgasm, willing to ride him through it, but he had other plans.
You were already embracing his impeding high, but he wrecked himself away from your mouth, roughly grabbing your shirt and pushing it upwards over your breasts. You arched towards him as he stroked himself two, three more times before finishing on you.
"Fuck," he groaned, eyes closed as relief and euphoria seeped through his veins. You felt like dying. Seeing him finish, and on your breasts nonetheless, had gotten you so wet, you were convinced your panties were completely soaked through at this point. As he opened his eyes again, he smirked down at you. You were aching all over, both from the position you were in and the fact that you still hadn't gotten any release.
In a quick move, Damiano grabbed your legs, shifting you from kneeling to sitting on the edge of the bed. As he knelt down between your legs, you were ready to transcend to heaven - or into a mindblowing orgasm, whichever came first. He placed hot, wet kisses along the inside of your calves, your thighs, getting closer to where you needed him most, spreading your legs, finally reaching your pussy.
His sneer didn't promise anything good. He slowly dragged your panties down your legs, fingers grazing your skin and leaving trails of goosebumps. You could see the massive wet patch as he held the fabric in his hands.
Then he stood up. Threw your underwear into his bag. And started dressing.
"Damiano, what the fuck?!"
This was unbelievable. Would he seriously go and leave now? Surely not, right? You were literally sitting on your bed, hands still tied, your wetness now probably dripping down onto the sheets, your breasts still covered in his fluids, and he was calmly putting on his clothes.
"Right, I gotta go," he said, nonchalantly, as if this was completely normal and not borderline insane. He moved around you to untie your hands, put a quick kiss to your mouth, and you briefly considered slapping him.
"No, no way you're doing this to me," you protested, trying to get up but failing, your legs still shaky. "You are not going to turn me on like this, use me, come on me and then leave?!"
"Well, I'm very sorry, bellezza." He didn't sound sorry at all. "But the bus is waiting and I've got a tour to go on."
Damiano walked away from you, just briefly stopping in the doorway to turn back towards you one more time.
"Oh, and remember the rules. No touching yourself while I'm away unless you're on the phone to me. I'll call you tonight. Maybe. And thanks for the souvenir."
You had never hated your boyfriend more.
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i-am-baechu · 3 years
Text
The People’s Princess
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Paring: Kim Seokjin x reader, Min Yoongi x reader | ♞ | | ♚ | | ♛ |
Genre: Fantasy au, Angst, Romance, and Fluff
Summary: “I, Y/N L/N, take thee Seokjin, to my wedded husband. To have and hold. From this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, to cherish and to…to obey. Till death do us part…”    
She looked at the man she barely knew for a month with an emotionless look. She turned towards her family to be met with sorrowful looks. This day was supposed to be the most beautiful day, a moment in a woman’s life that signified a new chapter. A chapter that she no longer wants if he was part of the story.  
Chapters:
Chapter one: “Papa, it’s been two weeks since I last saw him. You see me everyday, something I wish I can offer him. I’ll be back, don’t worry.”
Chapter two: “No matter what, the past will always be brought up because of his choices in the present. Not even in the future can one be truly happy when the past is staring right at you.”    
Chapter three: “Any man can be a good one but to be a great one is a task that many are scared to take. With you, any task at hand is easy. Being a good partner comes easy when you’re there staring at me.”
Chapter four: “Seokjin would be lying if he said that princess Y/N was ugly but there was something about her that he needed to know more about.“
Chapter five: “How can a man be so hateful towards others? Even if one has a hard life, it doesn’t excuse his actions. It makes his actions louder than anything he says.”
Chapter six: “They twirled around the room slowly as the music became the conversation between the two.”
Chapter seven: “When the laugh ended Y/N was back right before him but he couldn’t say anything to her or even give the chuckle that he wanted because he was so shocked at what happened.” 
Chapter eight: “War, death, murder, etc...you name it. I need to know this to protect this nation and Y/N...”
Chapter nine: “As they continued, all the memories that they shared flashed before their eyes and it only caused more tears to show. Memories that made Y/N’s heart feel full were now the cause of her pain and vice versa.”
Chapter ten: “Truth be told, he was afraid of the girl.”
Chapter eleven: “There was something there with him but she couldn’t understand what it was nor did she want to because she was scared of the answer.”
Chapter twelve: “Brother? Brother, please open your eyes.” 
Chapter thirteen: “This whole thing isn’t fair to all of us but we have to try and move forward. Regardless of hardships.” 
Chapter fourteen: "Next time you're talking about secrets, lower your voice.” 
Chapter fifteen: “I felt like I was about to lose control. I couldn’t bear to see you get hurt.”
Chapter sixteen: “I promise you....”
Chapter seventeen: “It smells like...home.” 
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angelguk · 3 years
Note
omg so i sent in an ask re angst jock jk n oc ! but then i also realized its highly possible these 2 break up at one point while in uni mostly bc of the "are we dating bc its convenient" kinda dilemma and then it just pushes them apart bc they think theyre losing theirselves while being in such a close relationship,,,cue save ur tears by theweeknd BUT i just know when they grow up a lil bit more, theyll end up together <3
here we go! (the beginning of the end....may be...)
didn’t include save your tears as the soundtrack but may haps for the follow-up :3
pairing: jock!jk and oc
warnings: angst, yes the break-up scene, jaykay being an ass (a very huge one motivated by his own insecurities and selfishness – translation: he’d rather break her heart and carry that weight than be the heartbroken one), chayoung is no longer Seed of Doubt but something else (still up for debate but she’s fairly nice here), not edited but hey atp that��s part of my branding (also i would like everyone to consider that oc is not the greatest gf ever like guys don’t hate jk alone!!)
soundtrack: bags, clairo + stay, gracie abrams + say you know, alina baraz
(titled — honeymoon fades)
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Jeongguk’s contact name hasn’t lit up the screen of your phone for six days now and you haven’t seen his face for just as long. It’s weird to go from constant incessant  communication to complete and utter radio silence. Not a single meme deposited in your Instagram inbox, no random notification from his Twitter. Just silence, quiet brewing silence. 
It breaks two days later when Chayoung finds you coddled under your duvet, mouth stuffed with the saccharine sweetness of mint chocolate. (Jeongguk kept a stash of it at your place but who was around to eat it anymore apart from you?). 
“And why do you look like you live in a dumpster?” She’d hummed, ripping open the curtains you’d involuntarily welded shut. 
“Because that’s how I feel inside,” you’d retorted, pushing aside your laptop. The screen is stuck with an image of an idiotic character named Nabi kissing the spawn of Satan. You hope for her sake it works out. Chayoung had huffed at your response, fondly whacking your head with a stray pillow. 
“Well get over that feeling cause we’re going out tonight.” A declaration, the fierceness in her feline eyes a warning that you’re not allowed to even think of saying no. That doesn’t mean you hadn’t tried – sorrowful eyes and pouted lips as you begged her to spare you. But Chayoung is a force of nature, one that could easily wreak havoc on your delicateness. And she does though, with a string of comments that propels you out of the miserable burrow you’d dug up. 
“You’re killing everyone, you know?” She’d supplied, yanking open your closet. “You’re sulking, Jeongguk is shutting down. He’s said like five words since this whole...thing...you have going on.” 
You couldn’t help but scoff at that, toying with the corner of the large grey shirt donned on your body. Jeongguk’s shirt. One of his favourites actually. You’d thought about stealing it after spying it on his obsessively neat laundry pile, but after seeing your wandering eyes he’d given it to you instead. 
“He always does that,” you’d said after Chayoung had whipped her head in your direction, curved eyebrows perplexed. “I mean, shut down. It’s his emotional response to things that bother him. Complete detachment so it hurts less.”
She had just stared at you, a long meaningful look at left your skin prickled. 
“Huh.”
“What do you mean ‘huh’?”
A measured step forward, her body weight sinking into the edge of your mattress a moment later. “I mean, you know him so well.”
“Of course I do he’s my best-friend,” you’d said, indignation coating your words
“No–No you're not getting me. You know him. You know he wouldn’t make the move to reconcile–”
“But he should!”
“You told him to go away! He’s trying to listen to you even though he’s hurting!”
And maybe that was it, that simple implication that you were causing him pain that had you pausing, reviewing the things you’d said to him – the things you’d felt. 
“But,” a timid rebuttal, “I just–I just need him to show me that he cares.”
“He does,” Chayoung had returned. “So much. And he misses you. He’s probably just afraid that you don’t feel the same.”
“But I do! He knows this.”
“Does he?” A question in her eyes, one that you’re afraid you know the honest answer to. 
You say things and never mean them, he had said, eyes hard.
That had hurt you but perhaps he was right, there are things you hadn’t told him, feelings you hadn’t truly expressed. And Jeongguk had always been good to you, so understanding and caring, trying to fill the places were you lacked. Wasn’t he the one who planned the majority of your dates? Remembered all the important milestones of your relationship while you contributed the bare minimum. You hadn’t even told Chayoung about the surprise he had planned for your one-year anniversary, the shame of your own choice hanging heavy over your head. 
So that’s why you’re here, staring at the back of his head forlornly as the music drifts around you, flashing florescent lights bathing him a hazy glory. He hasn’t seen you yet (something you’re thankful for because oddly enough you feel sick to your stomach). It feels like you’re skating on thin ice, waiting for the impending crack to sound through your heart, ice water swallowing you whole immediately. Chayoung is the one who pushes you forward, gingerly plucking the idle drink from your hand, Jimin aiding her efforts with a soft smile your way. 
It’s time for you to try the way Jeongguk has, put aside that bumbling ego that oversees your actions and adopt the humility he’s always granted you.
“Go,” she murmurs. “He misses you.”
And God you hope he does because you’ve missed him too. 
Except the moment his honey eyes land on you you know he hasn’t.
“Jeongguk,” you mumble. Yoonoh is frozen beside him, concerned gaze flicking between your faces. Your own eyes are stuck on him, the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips, the subtle hint of the dimple in his cheeks. 
You’ve missed him, and it slips from your heart and brims in your eyes, vision blurry as your blink those stray tears back inside. 
“Hi,” you add, when his silence doesn’t break.
“I should probably go,” Yoonoh lets out, awkward words bumping into the wall of tension standing firm between you to. He settles a hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder, sending him a look that feels loaded. “See you guys later, right?”
You nod, finally noticing the lump clogging your throat. “Yeah, sure.” Jeongguk just hums, the edge of his cup caught between his lips. Yoonoh flees within seconds, leaving you to wade through this alone. 
“I–I know you’re not happy with me right now, but please, can we just talk?” He blinks at you, it feels like a premonition. “Please?”
“Okay.” The simple word fills you, like a hollow you weren’t aware of finally found the cure needed. 
“Okay,” a small smile on your lips. Jeongguk’s face is still unreadable. He guides you up and away from the deafening sound of the song bleeding from the speakers, into an empty room, the door closing behind him muting the music and giving way to the own pounding in your head. Nobody says anything for a second, both of you navigating this uncharted territory of animosity. Until Jeongguk sighs, melting into the bed at the centre of the room. You follow suit, allocating enough space between the two of you. You’ve ever had to do that before.
“You said you wanted to talk?” Jeongguk finally cuts through it, eyes unforgiving when he glances at you.
“I did! I do–Just Jeongguk,” you can’t help it drifting out. “I miss you.”
Nothing, not even a flicker in his eyes. He eyes shift to the floor instead. “Okay. I that what you wanted to say?”
“No–No not just that! I’ve missed you Jeongguk and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that i went off on you like that and I’m sorry I haven’t been the best towards you and I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel like I didn’t care about you–or made you feel like the things I said or did had no meaning behind them. Because they do–they do because I love you. I love you so so much and I’m sorry if I made it seem like otherwise.” You automatically extend out for him, hoping to grasp on his thing floating to fast away from you. Jeongguk shifts and you hand tumbles down to the empty space between you instead, halted by his hesitance. 
His head drops into his palms a second later, a broken exhale leaving his lips. The motion cause the silver bracelet on his wrist to slip down the length of his arm. It jolts something in you. Jeongguk had given you a matching one but you’d ripped it off after the last argument and hadn’t considered putting it back on. But Jeongguk was still wearing his. 
“Do you really?”
“What?” He’s staring at you know, doe eyes cloudy.
“Do you really love me?” There, that stupid evil vile question that you thought you had the answer to but the words vanish in your head the longer he looks at you.
“I do–what? What are you implying? Of course, I do.”
“Of course, you do,” Jeongguk echoes. His eyes turn to the window located over his shoulder. You can see his head working through something, and you’re suddenly terrified fingertips itching to wander through his curls and coax those thoughts from his head. 
“Jeongguk? What the hell are you talking about? Talk to me, please.”
He sighs again, at it feels like your heart splinters. A sudden shake of his head and Jeongguk twists back to face you, a silent tear falling down his cheek.
“You don’t love me.”
“Wh–What are you talking about? I do! And how can you decide my feelings for me?”
“No. You don’t love me the way you think you do–the way you should.” It feels like he’s saying it to more than you, like he’s saying it to himself. “Maybe this the wrong choice to make. You know. Maybe we shouldn’t have done this.”
You shatter just like that, shards on the floor as you stare him, this person that you thought you knew. And maybe the feeling is mutual because Jeongguk is staring at you in a similar way, searching for the courage to say the words you know lie in his heart. Like a loaded cannon, waiting for the match to strike and leave you lying in pieces. 
“I think we should break–"
“No,” you cut him off with an adamance that you didn’t know existed until right then. “No, you’re not gonna say that and we are not doing this.”
His eyes narrow then, jaw set. “This is not about ‘us’, I’m doing what’s right for me.”
“How is that right? Huh, Jeongguk? Don’t you care about this? Don’t you care about me?”
He looks away then, ignoring your questions, his throat stuck. 
“Jeongguk...” You reach out again, and he allows it, shoulders sinking with the weight of your hand on them. “Don’t you care about me?”
Another heavy exhale, his eyes blinking hard. “I do. And that’s why this won’t work, not the way it should at least. I really think we should end this, or at least reconsider the reasons why we’re together. You say you love me–you say you always have but really–really think about it. About me and us and what we are. I’m sorry, I really am but I just can’t do this anymore.”
He rises then, your outstretched hand tumbling down to the empty space he’d left behind. You can’t move it, can’t breathe, your heart hurtling out of your chest and onto the ground where it lies, fragmented beyond repair and bleeding bare. You glance up through tears, watch him open his mouth and then it and look away. 
“Do you mean it?” You finally ask, and his eyes snap to you. He knows what you’re saying. There’s a pause that stretches out for eternity, coloured by the sound of the ringing in your head.
“Maybe.” It cuts right through you, lodging itself deep with intent. And then you just have to nod, swallow the scream clawing at your throat. He murmurs one more apology before his feet carry him away, and you watch, forlorn as you burn his frame into your memory, as your whole world walks out the door.
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Text
permanently ~ corpse husband
word count: 1456
request?: yes!
“Corpse husband x female reader. The reader is corpse wife but they keep there really private only a few people know that corpse is married, one day people start asking corpse if he is seeing someone and corpse doesn’t know if he wants to reveal he’s married because he worried she will get hate so he talks to the reader about it and his worries and the reader comforts him about his worries. Later corpse reveals in a video that hes married and everyone really happy and supportive of his marriage.”
description: in which he reveals a surprising secret to his fans after months of questions about his love life
pairing: corpse x female!reader
warnings: swearing
masterlist (one, two)
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It started when his fans heard her speak during a stream.
Corpse had been careful to keep his love life a secret for so long. He loved his fans, but he knew that if he even gave the slightest indication that he was seeing someone, the more extreme of his fanbase would go looking for her. He didn’t want any hate messages sent her way, she didn’t deserve any of that.
They had been so careful. (Y/N) would stay away from Corpse’s streaming room while he was streaming, or she’d sit next to him and make zero noise. Luckily, (Y/N) wasn’t famous, so they were able to share pictures and videos on her private social media accounts.
She had slightly pushed open the door to his streaming room one night, trying her best to make as little noise as possible in case his mic was on. Corpse noticed her from the corner of his eyes and turned to look at her.
“Mic off?” she whispered. Corpse chuckled and nodded. “I sent you a text but you didn’t respond. I’m gonna go get something to eat, do you want anything picked up?”
“I’m good for now, thank you.”
(Y/N) smiled and crossed the room to give him a kiss before leaving again.
For the half hour she was gone, (Y/N) lived in ignorant bliss, unaware of the chaos happening online.
When she got home, she found her husband pacing the kitchen. Concern was written all over his face, and it deepened when (Y/N) walked through the front door.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” she asked.
“The mic wasn’t off,” he said.
(Y/N) knew what he meant immediately, but she still couldn’t help but ask, “What?”
“When you came in during my stream, I thought I had shut my mic off, but I didn’t. My viewers heard us talking, and they heard us kiss. The chat went wild and it’s trending on Twitter already; #corpsesmysterywoman.”
(Y/N) grabbed her phone and went into Twitter. It was the top trend and it was flooded with tweets that ran from shocked to supportive and happy to, of course, hateful.
“On the plus side,” she started, “they’ll never be able to identify me just by my voice.”
“Doesn’t mean they won’t try.”
(Y/N) sighed as she watched Corpse start to bite his fingers, something he did whenever his anxiety ran high. She felt bad for him. He shouldn’t have to worry about his fans having a negative reaction about their marriage, and he definitely shouldn’t feel like he was to blame if his fans found her, which she knew he would.
(Y/N) touched Corpse’s shoulder, causing him to stop and look up at her. She took his hands in hers, wiping away the blood he had drawn.
“It’s okay,” she assured him. “We’ll get through this. Besides, I’m a big girl. I can handle this if anything happens.”
Corpse nodded. “I know, I just didn’t want you to be brought into this.”
“It was bound to happen eventually. Could’ve been worse.”
Corpse wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. She hugged him back, dreading the next time he’d have to go online.
~~~~~~
A week passed and the buzz around Corpse’s “mystery woman” did not die down. The hashtag trended for two days, and his fans were still speculating on Twitter. Corpse took some time off social media in hopes it would all blow over, but it became evident very soon that it would not. Everyone was still tweeting him about it, and it even began to escalate to people would ask Corpse’s friends during their streams.
Enough was enough, and Corpse decided it was time to address the issue.
He announced he would be doing a Q&A stream on his Twitter. Within seconds, the stream was trending.
(Y/N) sat on the floor next to Corpse’s chair as he set his stream up. She could see he was shaking with anxiety over the situation. She put a hand on his leg, bringing his attention to her.
“It’ll be okay,” she assured him. “I promise.”
Corpse gave her the best smile he could muster. He laced his fingers through hers, trying to calm himself down. Before he could back out of it, he started the stream.
The chat flooded with questions immediately, most of which were asking about her. Corpse was able to avoid these questions for as long as he could, until someone donated a super chat question specifically asking about Corpse’s relationship status.
“Are you taken?” he read. “Well, I guess I can’t get around it now. The answer is yes, I am taken, and I am taken permanently.”
The chat went wild at this. Corpse’s hands began to shake again and (Y/N) squeezed the one she was holding, trying to look up at him sympathetically. His attention was focused on the screen in front of him, trying to get the words out the best he could.
“The truth is, I was seeing someone for a long time. She isn’t a content creator or famous in any way, so I wanted to keep our relationship to ourselves. We’ve made it public with her friends and family, but as far as my YouTube life goes, I wanted to keep it a secret. At first it was because I didn’t want to announce the relationship and have it go south and we break up, but the longer we kept it a secret the more I knew I wanted it that way because it was just another aspect of my life I thought would be better to keep to myself. I didn’t want to bring her into a spotlight that she didn’t want, and honestly, I didn’t want any of my fans to know who she was.
“And marriage...well, it wasn’t something I ever expected to happen to me. We weren’t even dating all that long when we both got drunk one night and I just...I asked her. We both laughed it off at the time, but the next morning when we sobered up I realized I still wanted to marry her. So I asked her again, promised her I’d get her a ring when I could, and she said yes. Flash forward about a year and...I’m a married man.”
(Y/N) leaned her head against Corpse’s leg and smiled up at him. Through his nervousness and anxiety, she could see him reminiscing on the history of their relationship, the way she liked to do sometimes. Especially on the hilarious story of their engagement.
“I won’t be giving any more details besides that,” he said. “I will not stream with her if she does not feel comfortable, I will not be publicly stating her real name, I certainly won’t be posting her face on any of my social media. Especially without her permission as she has already said she doesn’t really want a life in the public eye. I am sorry I kept this from you all for so long, but I hope you can understand my reasoning, and I hope you will all treat my wife with respect. That’s all I really want.”
He continued with the Q&A. After enough time had passed for that information to sink in, you decided to check Twitter to see what the reaction had been. The top trend, within a matter of minutes, was #wearehappyforcorpse. The hashtag was flooded with kind messages congratulating Corpse on getting married and on finding the one. A few people were sharing Corpse’s wishes and warning the extreme fans not to go looking for whoever Corpse’s wife was until one of them made her identity public. There was very little negativity and, although (Y/N) had told Corpse this would likely be the case, she was relieved to know that it actually was.
When the stream ended, (Y/N) could almost physically see the weight that had been lifted off Corpse’s shoulders. She stood from the floor to sit on his lap. He took her in his arms and buried his head in her shoulder, letting out a long sigh of relief.
“That went well,” she said. “Almost like I said it would.”
“Don’t say I told you so,” Corpse said, lifting his head to smile at her. “Although, I also knew it would go fine.”
“Even if it went different, we would’ve dealt with it together. That’s what married couples do.”
Corpse leaned forward and kissed her gently. (Y/N) smiled as she broke away and kissed the tip of his nose.
“I’m so lucky to have you,” he said.
“You are.”
Corpse chuckled and playfully squeezed her as he kissed over her neck and face.
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devilyn · 3 years
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i want to tell you i love you | tsukishima kei
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— alexa, play: i won’t let you feel alone again by demxntia
Every single time that I lay my eyes on your face I'm falling for your body and your mind too Forget the past we can leave it all behind you I won't let you feel alone again I won't let you feel alone again, no
— synopsis: sometimes, tsukki wished he could be more honest with himself. because if he had honestly told you how he felt about you, he wouldn’t be standing outside your front door wondering how he should beg you for forgiveness right now. — genre: angst, happy ending, implications of nsfw, tsukki’s pride again. — word count: 1.8k
He wondered if he should even be here, standing outside your door without calling you beforehand. He knew you had to leave in 10 minutes if you wanted to make it to lecture in time, and he knew if you saw him your day would most likely be ruined.
Yet he didn't move from his spot by your front door.
Did you even want to see him? Chances were low. If anything, him being here was more likely to hurt you. But without thinking, his feet had brought him to your doorstep. Softly, he cursed and ran his hand through his hair.
He never knew what to do when it came to you and your undefined relationship.
"What are we?" you finally asked the other night with a softness in your eyes he never wanted to let go. 
"Nothing," is what he instinctively said to keep the walls around his heart up, but he felt it throb in his chest when he saw the way your expression fell. 
He hated labels. He hated defining things. It's why the two of you lasted so long. But it was only natural that you'd want some sort of definition of what was happening between the two of you.
If his high school teammates saw him now, most of them would probably be disappointed in the type of man he became. In fact, they'd yell at him to treat you better. So what was stopping him?
Pride. It was always his pride, and he hated it.
He nearly jumped in surprise when he heard your front door click and then swing open. You let out a similar noise of shock before finally looking up and meeting his golden eyes. Your haggard expression managed to become even more tired than before just at the sight of his face, and suddenly, he regretted coming.
"Why…?" you trailed off, knowing he knew what you meant.
"...needed to see you," he answered honestly, though he almost regretted that too when your brows furrowed and your expression darkened.
"I have class," you responded coldly, stepping outside the warm comforts of your apartment to brave the winter air. Tsukishima could see your breath, and the way you shuddered at the cool wind that blew by.
"M'not here for sex," he murmured and you scoffed, checking the time on your phone.
"Yeah, I figured that. You never come anytime before 9pm for sex," you tilted your head. "In fact, you never come before 9pm at all."
He felt like he was going to collapse, but his feet stayed rooted to the ground as he gazed down at you with an unreadable expression. Despite that, your hard expression softened into one he couldn't understand. He watched you glance at your phone again and curse under your breath. You would be late if you didn't leave now.
"Look, Kei," you stated quickly. "I need to go or I'll be late to class."
"You can miss one lecture."
You rolled your eyes and took a step forward in an attempt to slip past him. He wasn't sure how, but he managed to pull his feet from their spot by your front door to plant himself in front of you instead, blocking you from taking any more than three steps away from your doormat. Your expression morphed into one of displeasure once again.
"Kei," you spoke in a warning tone. "I'm going to be late."
"I want to talk--"
"You had your chance to talk last week," you interrupted, voice calm. "So move out of my way, or I'll block your number and you definitely won't be able to talk to me then."
"Either way, we know you're going to end up blocking my number after today anyway," he retorted with narrowed eyes, as you desperately looked for a way around his unnecessarily tall frame. "so let's talk now."
You scoffed and threw your hands into the air in defeat. Quickly, you whirled back around and forcefully unlocked your front door before yanking it open. Before stepping inside, you turn your head to glare at him.
"This is your last chance, Tsukishima Kei." 
He flashed you a bitter smile before following you inside your familiar apartment.
"Excuse the mess," you mumble, dropping your bag by the couch as you head into the kitchen to grab him a beverage.
He closed the door behind him, the soft click of the lock sealing his fate. How would he go about this? It's not like he came here with a plan. He had acted on emotion alone, and somehow ended up here. Yet, as you said, this was his last chance to be honest with himself, and with you.
"I hope water's fine. I don't have anything else," your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He watched you toss used tissues and napkins from the coffee table into the trash, briefly wiping it down with a wet towel before setting his beverage on top.
He took in your apartment for the first time during the daylight. It was uncharacteristically messy, with an emptied bag of chips tossed aside and a blanket and pillow laying haphazardly on your only couch. Your shoes were kicked to the side, and some clothes that he deemed as your pajamas were on the ground by the couch. As if you knew he was observing the sight, you hurriedly cleaned up the area.
"You don't need to clean," he said softly, though you made a soft noise that sounded like a snort. Clearly, you weren't going to listen to him.
"Sit," you told him as you made your way back to your bedroom to toss everything onto your bed to clean later. "And think thoroughly about what your excuse will be."
He did as you told him, taking a seat comfortably on your couch. He's spent an excessive amount of time here with you, usually with you perched in his lap with your lips against his. You always had this soft giggle he adored, and would try to draw out of you by kissing areas on your neck he knew were ticklish. He would rest his head on your lap after a long day of classes, volleyball practice, and generally dealing with others. You would run your hand through his hair absentmindedly while watching a show on your laptop, and he would gaze up at your focused expression with stars in his eyes. Then, his hand would reach up and pull you down for a kiss, which would eventually lead to more. 
There were many nights where he'd let you force him into washing the sheets because of the mess the two of you made, and you insisted it had to be a team effort because it was mostly his fault for initiating in the first place. Still, the sight of you writhing beneath him with red cheeks pleading for more always made the laundry day worth it. Plus, the bright smile you wore watching him reluctantly pull the sheets off your bed made him feel things he couldn't put into words.
"I love you," Tsukishima whispered softly to himself, as he heard the quiet pattering of your feet become louder with each step as you approached the common area. That was the lame excuse he had come up with.
You took the spot on the other side of the couch, turning so you could face him.
"So?" you tilted your head, fingers messing around with your phone as a distraction. "What's the excuse you came up with that was good enough to force me to skip class?"
He was silent, eyes taking in every inch of your face and the small changes that occurred over the span of the two days he hadn't seen you.
The bags under your eyes were new, along with your chapped lips and the sadness in your irises. His hand reached forward and he inched closer to you, leaning in to cup your cheek gently. Though you allowed the action, you stiffened and never tore your gaze from his. His golden-brown eyes flickered to your lips, thumb brushing over them slowly.
"I'm sorry," he finally mumbled, eyes closing as he leaned in again to rest his forehead against yours.
"For what?" you inquired quietly. You were testing him, and he knew it. He deserved it, really.
"For saying you meant nothing to me when that obviously isn't true," Tsukishima still had his palm cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your supple skin as he sighed quietly. The two of you were silent for a bit before you spoke up again, your voice shaky.
"...what am I supposed to believe, Kei? That you really want to be around me for more than just sex, or are you cruel enough to lie to my face to keep me around as someone you can run to whenever you wanna fuck?"
"You're worth more than that," his voice was weak, and he suppressed his pride that scolded him for speaking his true feelings. "And I'm sorry that I made you feel like you weren't. I'm sorry that I disproved my actions with my words because I was scared of giving my heart to someone."
He finally opened his eyes, and his heart trembled at the sight of your teary expression.
"I can't forgive you so easily, you know," your fingers reached up to trace the outline of his jaw, and a pleased hum left his lips.
"I'll make it up to you, until you believe me," he placed his hand over yours, bringing your knuckles to his lips and pressing light kisses to your fingertips. Your gaze was soft, admiring the adoration in his eyes.
"I like you a lot," you whimpered weakly, and he couldn't help but smile. He leaned down to finally kiss you like he had been wanting to since he first saw you, his fingers intertwining with yours.
"I know," he mumbled against your lips, and you weakly smacked his shoulder to which he snickered.
"Do you like me…?" you asked quietly, voice even smaller than before, as if you were afraid of his answer.
"...yeah. A lot," he answered honestly, and his heart swelled up with joy at the sight of your teary smile. With a soft giggle that sounded like home to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of you to press your lips to his again.
One day, he'd be able to vocalize just how much he loved that laugh of yours. One day, he'd be able to tell you honestly just how much he loves you.
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