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#donned in white... okay
writesailingdreams · 6 months
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Despite its media image, Disney is quite good at terror.
(Bluth is better at frightening.)
(That is, with Disney there's an uncanny eerie out-of-nowhere terror, that has this macabre menace to it. While with Bluth there's a sense of danger but it's not actually, generally, surreal or startling in the same? Also, the Bluth movies I'm thinking are usually more grounded in realistic sadness so it melds tonally better.)
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Don Lothario is a CHAD and I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL
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ssaalexblake · 1 year
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i’m still mad about that dw magazine what the future looks like headline lol 
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irnwithdiego · 2 years
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idk how to feel about s3 cause its just the david show now, diego doesnt exist anymore lol.
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wow-an-unfunny-joke · 18 days
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Y’all! We’re watching Green Book in history and it’s legitimately a good movie!!!!
Like I’m getting a kick out of this
I adore Tony and I didn’t realize the other rguy’s name was Donald until half way through the movie
If we don’t finish it in class I’ll finish it in home
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inkskinned · 7 months
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nobody ever gets the mugshot of gluttony right. these days you think it has nothing to do with bodyweight. what a good trick: that gluttony could take a shape. no, there was never any fault in finishing a meal or in taking second helpings. it was always in taking from others that there was an issue - the oil baron's fingers steepled over dead bodies and stolen lands. gluttony - twin of greed, although most think greed and envy are the siblings - gluttony is pleased with the experience of gaining, is thrilled just-by-having. greed is the one that stays hungry, that has to move forever like a shark. gluttony likes it - "a glutton for punishment" is one who is seeking the harm, who loves the rush.
gluttony is a mother using her daughter's body for a diet testing ground, sharpening the bone angles. gluttony is saying why, well not! to the seventh and eighth mansion or yacht. it is not just wanting the six white horses, it is making sure that the horses came from your stables. it is not just bathing in milk - it is bathing in milk while others are starving.
oh, it's true that some sins still blaze in their bright floral prints. wrath in a white woman yelling at a person of color for even daring to be in her neighborhood. the red, incipient rage of a neck tightened at even the thought we would take the guns away. wrath has laurels, and she is good at her job, and works hard.
but sloth wasn't ever the sleepy morning of depression, the hours spent begging a clouded body to please move goddamn it; the protestant work ethic claiming even rest is somehow demonic. it was never chronic fatigue. sloth was subtle, a grey mist. she is watching you get bullied and she is deciding it is none of her business. she crosses the picket line because - what! it's just chicken, isn't it? she is closing her eyes and turning her head when the next anti-gay legislation passes. someone else will handle it. not the tense freeze of anxiety or a lack of preparation - she knows you're hurting and would rather you stay quiet about it. she tells other people i just don't see what the big deal is.
sloth is a father that doesn't do the dishes. sloth is your boyfriend's innocent shrug you're just better at household shit. sloth isn't the missed opportunity - it is the purposeful desire to just get-someone-else-to-do-it.
greed and envy are doing body shots in the back of a private jet. they are the way they always have been, but are lovers in the age of the internet. greed just finished union busting, is rolling a bitcoin over his knuckles, is about to start another MLM. envy is in a broadbrimmed hat, showing off her instagram life, grinning about how if you want it, work for it.
okay, it's true. you have a soft spot for lust, gathering dust in a corner. so tame in comparison to the others. but how funny lust is always painted as being a woman in tight clothes. you've met actually lustful women - the ones that purposefully climb into your partner's lap, the ones that say lesbians are gross but ask bisexual women into bed with their husbands. a lustful woman is not donned in lace and garters and red: that's how men think lust looks, painting their own sins into frame. this way, the sin displaces as fog and hovers above her: a woman in a dress is lust; what the man experiences is just the natural consequence.
here is the thing: lust is doing just fine, save your pity. lust is running more circles than any of them. lust is shutting down safe sexwork sites while also making teenagers in knee-high socks sex sensations. lust is CEO of an advertising network where women never pass 25 years old. all the bras lust makes are pretty to look at but, when worn, legitimately hurt. lust has a podcast, his fur coat looped around his shoulders, sells the idea that only certain people have value, that sex raises some and destroys others. lust is tilting his head and asking what did you expect when you dress like that? lust shuns you, sneers that everything you want is disgusting and taboo - right until he can figure out how to capitalize off of it. lust has the midas ability: everything he touches becomes an object.
people usually say wrath is the scary one. you agree with FMA here, though: the real dangerous one is pride, and the shit-eating grin. the white cloaks and the nationalism and the inability to apologize. it is every partner who threw a book at your head because you don't respect him. it is every mother who said my son doesn't deserve to have his life ruined over allegations. it is the teacher that fails you because you talked back.
you worry you have this one. you feel guilty when you need help but don't ask for it. prideful. ashamed when you complete something and feel good about it. too proud for your own good. but pride is not the reward of hard work or accomplishment: pride is a twitter feed. it is the thing that has to mask i didn't do anything with look at me.
pride is your father's raised hand, his raised voice. how he was never there when you needed him, but he is still "head of house." he ruins dinner and blames it on you: you're an embarrassment to this family. this is the glass you walk around, the cuts in your feet. how he says this isn't how i raised you and you have to bite back the retort: that's because you didn't actually fucking raise me.
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donatellawritings · 15 days
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Sorry if this isn’t a good prompt, I’m just curious to know how Rafe and sweetheart!reader would spend a normal day together? Like he doesn’t have anything to do that day and neither do you, so you’re just spending the day together. The domesticity of it all is so 🥺
this is actually adorable!
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sundays were the one day out of the week that rafe designated to be solely dedicated to the two of you spending quality time together and making sure that everything within the tannyhill residence was up to par, prior to the upcoming weekdays. so, the two of you usually slept in, the bright north carolina sun seeping through your powder white drapes as you stirred awake. all squinty-eyed and half-asleep, your naked body sprawled out as you moaned with your morning stretch.
swinging a leg over the side of rafe’s waist, you press your puffy lips to his stubbly jaw, earning a stubborn groan from your sleepy man, “you can stay here, papi — i just need to do some laundry and make breakfast, tienes hambre?” you coo softly, your acrylic nails gently scraping at rafe’s scalp as he lowers his head to your chest, nodding against your skin.
“thank y’baby,” rafe mumbles, his voice hoarse and raspy from his drowsy state as he lazily cups a gentle hand around the plush fat of your ass, kneading the skin for a brief moment, before laying a light, yet stinging slap to the skin.
throwing your head back, you let out a held back moan, your tangled hair falling down your exposed shoulder blades, “nooo, m’still sore from last night,” you whine with a breathy laugh, playfully rolling your eyes as rafe jiggles the soft skin, whilst peppering kisses against the skin of your neck, “papi, c’mon — necesito limpiar la casa,” you reach down, your delicate hand gently raising rafe’s busy head from your chest.
forcing a pout on your plump lips, you watch as rafe swats the side of your thigh, clearing his throat, “a’ight, y’can clean, i’ll make us breakfast, yeah?” he rasps, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the diamond encrusted ‘R’ pendant that hung from your dainty chain.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆
after about twenty more minutes of getting lost in a wet and noisy kiss, you and rafe decided it would be a smart idea to shower together.
“shit, baby — keep fuckin’ y’self on my dick,” rafe groans, the steamy and dewy shower raining down his face, both of his hands fisted in your hair as you throw your hips back against his, the palms of your hands and side of your face pressed against the fogged up glass shower door.
stretching your swollen lips into a lopsided smile, you continue to roll your hips, soft moans leaving your sore throat as rafe’s slippery hand slides around your throat, swiftly pulling you flush against his chest.
meeting the fat of your ass with quick thrusts, rafe tightens his hold on your hair, catching your parted lips in a swallowing kiss, “gonna get y’pregnant — i fuckin’ swear,” he huffs, sending a sharp slap to the wet skin of your ass, earning a pained mewl from you, “y’want me to make you a mommy, yeah?” rafe questions, his bright blues hung low as you nod, allowing your head to fall back against his shoulder.
“y-yes, i want it, papi,” you cry out, your smaller frame jutting forward with each thrust that clapped against your poked out ass.
the moment rafe filled you with his cum for the second time within the last 24 hours, you became so cum-drunk that the thought of rafe fucking his kid into you, just didn’t seem all that bad. and shit, if rafe was being completely honest — his goal was to have you knocked up by the end of the year and donning his last name in the new year.
remaining inside of you, rafe releases your hair from his grip as he leans against the tiled shower wall, sliding his hands up and down your spine, a knowing smile tugging on his handsome mouth, “m’gonna keep it in for a bit, okay?” he decides.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆
the remaining duration of your morning and part of your afternoon was spent in the sunny backyard of tannyhill, your wet and now curly hair pinned up with a kitsch hair clip, your bronze body now adorned by a silk crème colored nightgown. you laid between rafe’s spread legs, the two of you reclined in the lounger, popping random chunks of assorted fruit into your mouths as rafe laid a soft hand atop of your tummy.
letting out a sigh of content, you steal a quick glance at your empty ring finger, before staring down at your stomach, “papi … d’you think that i’ll be a good mommy — a good wife, one day?” you ask sweetly.
“i don’t see why not, y’already such a good girl for me, yeah? i think y’will be the best mommy and the best wife, mama,”
“you really think so?”
“f’course, sweetie — all i need now is y’walkin around all moody with a biiiig belly,” rafe confirms, pressing his lips to the top of your head, rubbing small circles over your stomach, “now, we jus’ gotta keep practicing til’ you’re all full, okay?”
placing your hand on top of rafe’s you fiddle with his gold signet ring, “okay,” you smile, your doe eyes sparkling with hope that maybe, just maybe there would be a little baby in your stomach.
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ohimsummer · 5 months
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BAD HABIT ft. BULLY! SATOSUGU
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— minors dni, perverted!+bully! satosugu, uh light fluff? (mostly in the bonus?), mostly satoru x reader, fantasizing about smut (gojo), prob inaccurate college rep idc <3, pet names (princess, darling), explicit language, suggestive comments, some recording/photography, one mention of blackmail
summary; suffering exhaustion beneath a pile of college projects and exams wasn’t enough, now you’re stuck tutoring the most annoying men in the world. couldn’t hurt to take a little nap during it
wc 3.1k ??
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The last few weeks have been long, nerve-wracking. It seems all your professors have co-conspired together to drop some kind of test or project, all worth a large portion of the grade and all due in the next month. Your nightly 8 hours of sleep have dwindled to a measly four, and of course, to top it all off, now your Bio Chem teacher has donned you the responsibility of tutoring Gojo and Geto indefinitely.
They had to have something to do with this, you just know it. Call it a wild hunch but there’s no way, of all the people in that class, a lot of which have higher grades than yours, that the professor would ask you to tutor Gojo and Geto. Maybe they slipped a few hundreds in the teacher’s hand or appealed to his emotions. Knowing the theatrics of Gojo, he probably gave the man big, puppy-dog eyes and crocodile tears during his fake pleas of ‘please, sir, we really want to pass this class!’.
A light knock on your door drags you out of your thoughts, followed by the familiar voice of a white-haired pest. “Knock, knock!”
You’ve been dreading 5PM since yesterday, the time they, and reluctantly you, had agreed on. Demanding they come to your dorm was akin to putting acid on your tongue, but going over to theirs like Geto’d offered would be like walking into the lion’s den.
They await you within the hall, and Gojo perks up immediately at the sight of you. He unwraps himself from Geto’s shoulders, and your suspicions that they don’t really need your knowledge only grow when you notice they’re both empty-handed, not a book or worksheet or even a flash card in sight. Though you can’t dwell on it for too long as Gojo’s immediately barging into the room.
“Princess, good to see ya!,” comes his boisterous greeting. “Nice place ya got here.” Entwined in his teasing compliment is a conniving tone; Gojo examines the various pink decor of your bedroom. “Should come by more often.”
“Negative.,” you snap with furrowed brows, terse and patience already wearing thin at Geto’s languid pace through the door.
He nears Gojo to study the photo album adorning your tack board, leaving you to prepare by getting out the needed textbooks. You ignore their childish whispers, giggles, points at the various pictures that contain you and your friends, though it causes a bout of unease to settle in your stomach. Hopping onto the tall bed, you scoot until your back’s to the wall, placing down a recently-made stack of notes and the class’s assigned textbooks. It’s a short hunt for the page you desire, somewhere lost in the middle because this professor jumped from subject to subject so often.
You clear your throat to signal it’s time to begin. “Okay. So–“
Already you’re off to a bad start as the textbook disappears from your grasp, now suspended above Gojo’s head, far out of your reach. “This looks super bo-oring!”
You spring away from the sheets, landing with a soft ‘thud’ and instantly move to crush his feet, or kick his knees in, or have him hunched over with a punch to the stomach, but your movements are halted by Geto’s sudden grasp on your waist. Head jerking to the side, you shoot him your deadliest stare, nails steadily sinking into his unfortunately clothed forearms.
“Let go.,” you bark and he doesn’t move a muscle.
“Pft. Aren’t you adorable?,” he murmurs into your neck, tone bathed in condescension. “Just relax, he’s joking.” Against your wriggling and squirming, Geto backsteps to the shiny wooden desk in your room, still clinging to your waist. “Have a seat, it’d do you some good to calm down a little.”
And before you know it, he’s descending into the cool comfort of your chair, dragging you with him to rest in his lap. Gojo slams the book shut and approaches your restrained, restless form, grinning wildly the whole time. He pushes you back to recline atop his friend, thoroughly amused at your continuous flailing. A round of delighted laughter leaves Gojo’s lips, especially at the childish kick of your legs that don’t reach the floor from your position.
“Would you let fucking go of me?,” you huff between grunts, only to be met with Geto’s thoughtful hum.
“I might when you relax.,” he finally speaks.
You twist around in Geto’s lap to jab an enraged finger at his broad chest, a disdainful scowl painted across your features. “Did you two come here to play, or did you come here to learn?”
Gojo reaches out to ruffle your hair, smirking when you slap his hand away. The book precariously wobbling on his fingertips begins to fall, caught by him at the last minute before it hits the floor. “Can’t we do a little bit of both?”
Your toes brush the rug as you scramble forward in Geto’s lap, promptly ignoring the growing hardness you feel on your behind. “If you two aren’t gonna take this seriously then get out of my room.”
Geto chuckles as Gojo heaves out a loud sigh, and holds the textbook out to you. “Fine, jeez, you’re such a little buzzkill.”
You leap up from Geto’s lap and snatch it back. “Shut the hell up and sit down.”
Tension seeps away as they obey without question. Geto claims your swiveling desk chair as Gojo flops down on the huge, pink carpet covering majority of the floor, and you settle back onto the bed, flip again to the designated page and begin going over your plans for today’s tutoring session. You can feel two pairs of eyes burning into you, but opt to just concentrate on dumbing down the material for them.
Gojo zones out immediately as you dive into the information. Ocean blue eyes catch onto the curves and dips of your body and admire the cute loungewear you have on. Snug, white shorts that hug your skin and ride up the crease of your plush thighs. He studies the curve of your ass long enough to realize he can spot pink panties barely showing through the translucent fabric. With the way you’re sitting, knees midway pulled to your chest, Gojo can see the outline of your pussy, and blood rushes to his dick as his mind goes haywire. Gojo visualizes a different scenario, one where he spikes that stupid textbook into the floor and fucks you senseless. He can imagine perfectly the look on your face as he pins you to a mattress, voice wavering through false bravado as you whine through plump lips at him to move. Complaining even though your rounded thighs are rubbing together to ease the ache of your cunt, a damp spot forming in the crotch of your shorts as Gojo peppers kisses along your neck. The view of your beautiful tits with perked nipples rubbing against his chest and driving Gojo insane until he rips the thin layers off, both the panties and shorts together to leave your glistening pussy bare for him, ready to be ravaged and abused by his cock–
“Gojo.” He hears his name, but it’s like someone calling him underwater. “Gojo.”
A sharp kick in the ribs and he’s at full attention. Geto snickers at him, still swiveling back and forward in the leather chair, and Gojo looks over to meet your sharp dagger of a glare over the textbook.
“It’d be nice if you could focus on me and not waste my time.,” you sigh in utter annoyance.
Gojo grins that boyish smile, one that makes you want slap it off his face but maybe also makes your heart stutter a tad. “Oh-ho, babe, I‘m always focused on you.”
His statement brings a warmth to your cheeks, but you’re an expert at pretending around Satoru Gojo. Rolling your eyes, you huff and backtrack on a couple paragraphs in an effort to catch him up. Less distractions for him to latch on to.
“I think I’d focus more if I wasn’t so lonely down here.,” he interrupts to sulk in your direction.
The look you give is like one a mother gives a disobeying child. “Okay? No one told you to sit down there.”
You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, especially since Gojo perks up at the sentence. “Oh, inviting me to sit on the throne with you, princess?”
Eyes widening in disbelief, you try to sputter out a ‘no!’, but Gojo’s already sprung up and leaping into bed next to you. “No takebacks!”
You frown, brows knitted as he gets a little too comfy, squishing your favorite stuffed animal in his arms and blinking a wide-eyed look at you. Geto eyes you two and continues slow swirls in the chair, getting slightly dizzier with each rotation, but at least he’s actually been taking in the information you’ve explained. Not that he needs your tutoring, he’s up there with you as one of the top students in this particular class. But it’s hard not to read your lips when he’s been shamelessly ogling them the past ten minutes.
Sighing in defeat, you allow Gojo to curl up next to you. It’s easy to feign his attention and he pretends to read over your shoulder, though his mind is anywhere but in this textbook. If anything, this was far worse. Being in such close proximity, your alluring scent threatens to drag him deeper into your space. Instead of focusing on your body or, you know, the material, now all Gojo can concentrate on is pinpointing the ingredients of your shampoo. It’s so familiar, right on the tip of his tongue…vanilla? Maybe, but he can also catch hints of strawberry in there somewhere. Perhaps if he was a little closer…
“Can you back off a little?,” you snap at him. “Damn, you’re almost on top of me.”
Gojo smirks. “I can be actually on top of y-“
“Anyways you two can look over this.,” you ignore his flirtatiousness and stand up to get away from him. “Since you apparently know this more than me. I don’t even get why y’all asked for tutoring if you weren’t gonna listen.”
And before Gojo can object, you teeter towards the edge of the bed, land on the soft rug, and head towards the mini fridge for a much-needed drink of water. It’s bad enough you were asked to tutor them when they clearly don’t care for it, but for them to actually come and then waste your time, too? Egregious. You have half a mind to kick both of them out and tell the professor they don’t need anyone’s damn help, much less yours.
You bend over for a cold water bottle, and in the few seconds it takes you to grab it, you swear you hear the faint sound of a camera click behind you. Quiet noises follow after, almost like they’re trying to have a conversation without you noticing, but it’s silent as you turn around to continue the lesson. They’re so fucking weird. Whatever.
Drawing near the bed, you steady a hand and make ready to hop back into place, only for a strong pair of hands to hoist you up and set you on the edge. You let out a soft ‘oh!’, sincerely taken aback, and turn to look at Gojo, who’s readjusting back into his original spot like nothing has happened.
“What?,” he asks. Something about the nonchalant upturn of his lips is different than his usual smirk. Something more genuine and less smug.
Doubt clouds your vision, tugs the corners of your lips down as you glance between him and Geto, who’s halted his endless chair twirling to give a curious tilt of his head. They eye eachother, and then you again; Geto has the smallest smile, seemingly unassuming but you’re skeptical of it nonetheless.
“Nothing.,” you decide to dismiss it because you’d only be setting yourself up for failure trying to explain why it was a problem. Besides, addressing it would only serve to fuel Gojo’s numerous efforts to throw everything off track. Maybe he was seriously just trying to help. Fine, no big deal.
You awkwardly flounder backwards, making sure to put a few more inches of space between you and Gojo. All to no avail since the second you settle your laptop upon your bare thighs, he instantly closes the gap. The radiating heat of his body sends warmth throughout your skin, exhaustion catching up to pierce through your bones, and you find yourself wanting to swaddle up within blankets and go to sleep.
“The professor has a few study guides on the website.,” you yawn, keys clicking beneath your fingers until the aforementioned pdf file is loading down the screen. “Hundreds of questions but a lot of this stuff will be on the final, so it’d be helpful to study it all.”
Your eyelids flutter, and next is Gojo’s low voice in your ear. “Tired, princess? I thought you were supposed to be teaching us.”
His warm breath raises goosebumps on your skin, and you suddenly notice how cold this room is. “Fuck off.,” you mutter, shortly followed up by both their chuckling.
“Told you to relax.,” Geto voices in the most ‘told ya so’ tone ever. “Get some rest, we can take it from here, and we’ll wake you if we need something.”
It’s a bad idea, you know it’s a bad idea, but…you can’t help succumbing to a little nap. The past several days have worn you thin, and despite not trusting these two to find a drunk in a bar, let alone have unsupervised access to your room, the promise of a little sleep is tempting. You are exhausted so, against your better judgement, you bank on the fact that they have the potential of grown, mature men who won’t get up to something nefarious while you rest your eyes for a little. Surely it couldn’t hurt to put the slightest amount of trust in them, and you allow your vision to fade.
During your catnap, you have the poor luck to dream of school. Studying, finals, projects, classes, anything related to college, you conjured up an even more miserable version of it in your dream state. Though in one dream you cuddle that stuffed animal Satoru grabbed from your bed, so that’s a plus. In the dream it’s warm, snuggly, fuzzy. You smother it in your arms, bury your face into it to inhale the smell of it, a scent you’re infatuated with. You vaguely recognize it in your sleep, it smells so much like…
You awake to the jostling of your shoulders. Someone, two people actually, are talking, maybe to you? What are your whereabouts, actually?
“Ah, there she is!” The familiar voice sounds vague and foggy, loud but far away. “Have a good nap, princess?”
Harsh light beams into your eyes, tampering with the return of your sight. You hover a hand over your forehead to shield your face, peering around in a hope to get your bearings.
“I think she’s still half-asleep.,” another voice whispers, and then says louder, “Take your time, darling.”
Everything is bleary, but you can just make out the details of your room. There’s your fridge over on the opposite wall, the lamp on your desk, speaking of which, who’s in your chair? You start to sit up, wondering in the back of your mind when you laid down to begin with, utterly bewildered when you feel something, a hand, firm and warm on the bare skin of your hip. Pink bedsheets, white dorm walls, your legs, someone else’s legs stretched out beside yours…A chuckle rings somewhere to your right as you gape at these seemingly disembodied legs. Your gaze trails up to see they’re attached to a waist, a chest, a pair of arms, and then your eyes fall on the face.
“G–!”, you hesitate, stumbling backwards away from Gojo who laughs maniacally. “Get off me, Gojo!”
He scoffs, Geto huffs a laugh somewhere in the room. “You were the one laying all up under me, actually.”
“I was not!”
“You so were,” he argues, giddiness in his voice. “You were allll over me, baby. Hugging my arm, rubbing my chest, all of it. Wanna see the video?”
You gasp out, “Vi–? Video?”
Gojo fiddles around on his phone. “Yeah, check it out, sweet cheeks!”
He holds the phone out to you, and a large, empty feeling plummets to the bottom of your stomach. You, spooning him, a betraying smile spread on your lips as you nuzzle Gojo’s chest, completely oblivious to your surroundings. His hand snaked around your waist, fingers occasionally playing with the hem of your shirt or ducking beneath to pinch your hips. You whine when he does so, and in the video you see the stutter of his body, hear traces of his quiet laughter. The phone currently shakes in Gojo’s grasp from his endless giggling.
“Delete it!,” you stammer in complete disbelief. “Pervert!”
“Pervert?,” Gojo repeats your accusation. “You’re the one feeling me up in the video!”
“Get y’all’s asses out of my room!,” you shout at them, leaping to the floor to immediately escort them out. “Both of you, now!”
Gojo glares, huffs, and does his signature pout, all the while Geto chuckles hysterically behind his palm. “How rude of my tutor to kick me out after falling asleep during the session on top of trying to seduce me!”
Geto chimes in before you can tell his friend to shut the fuck up. “Surely you can spare a few minutes to make up for that time?”
“No.,” you say bluntly. “Out.”
You watch in disapproval as they grab their things, foot tapping impatiently the whole time as you hold the door wide open for them to leave through. They take their time, eventually prompting you to just start shoving them out into the hall.
“So, same time tomorrow?,” Geto teases, stumbling through the doorway.
You grimace, giving them both a last push out of your room. “Absolutely not-“
“And get some rest too, while you’re at it.,” Gojo bids you farewell with one last aggravating comment.
“Whatever.,” and you slam the door in their faces, Satoru poking his tongue out at you with a wink.
bonus!
— It’s the early hours of the morning. Geto has long since passed out, but Satoru can’t seem to get a wink of sleep. The video replays in his mind, and he tries desperately to imagine the sensation of your body laying against him. No teasing, no sex, no filthy, perverted thoughts. Just the feeling of your head on his chest again, limbs haphazardly wrapped around him. The even sounds of your breathing, warm breath brushing over his collar. Such an adorable, peaceful look on your face when you’re not glaring at him and spouting insults in a rage. Yeah, he told Geto he was taking pictures and a video as some kind of future blackmail, but, truth be told, Satoru really just wanted them all for himself.
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yunhoszn · 16 days
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steamed milk
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pairing choi san x f!reader word count 2.5k genres fluff﹒smut warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, not proofread, all lowercase bc i wrote this at 2 am… a week ago <3, barista!reader, barista!san, clumsy reader, mentions of burn scars?, mutual pining, little bit of power imbalance but it doesn’t play into the plot, escalates pretty fast, public sex, unprotected sex, cute fluffy moment at the end, may we get f’s in the chat for kim hongjoong’s desk chair
summary a closing shift with san is… interesting… to say the least.
more alright alright alright, i know i have a billion wips and a billion reqs to work on,,, but @bro-atz needed something to read on a flight and i needed an excuse to write with no plot in mind, solely based on vibes and this is what came out of it… i ALSO KNOW i’ve been withholding for a week but that’s bc i wasn’t sure if i wanted to keep this locked in the dungeon for a rainy day or not, until i remembered i should post something in honor of chellateez 🥳
@atzhouse @san-network
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“did you burn yourself on the steam wand again, y/n?”
you bite your lip and turn away from hongjoong bashfully. so what if you’re a little clumsy, it’s not like you completely sucked at your job. maybe there were a few milk spills here and there. at least you knew what you were doing most of the time. 
“um, what would you do if i said no?” you scratch the back of your neck with the hand that wasn’t burned. hongjoong sighs, leaning back in his rolling chair. as the manager of a coffee shop, he did not get paid enough to babysit and coddle his employees like he usually did. 
between you almost always making a mess and then yunho and mingi goofing around whenever they were on shift together, he felt like he was starting to grow grey hairs. he shakes his head with a tsk, pulling out the first aid kit from one of the drawers in his desk. “let’s put some burn cream and a bandaid on it so you can hop back out. the dessert rush is about to begin.”
you nod and rock on the balls of your feet as you wait patiently. your manager dresses your burn and sends you on your way. the dessert rush, aside from the morning rush, was arguably the worst part of the day. shifts at the coffee shop were divided into thirds— open to mid, mid to evening, evening to close. while opens were the most busy, you at least got out early and could enjoy the rest of your day. mids were the slowest, but they took place midday so you couldn’t do much after you clocked off. 
closes were the worst, because they were so unpredictable. you weren’t ever sure if it was going to be busy, apart from the usual dessert rush, and that uncertainty bothered you. the beginning of your closing shift was staffed pretty well. there was yeosang, who was probably the best barista out of the lot of you, and seonghwa, a seasoned veteran in this game. he was your assistant manager. 
however, yeosang and seonghwa were off at 6 PM and the shop closed at 9 PM, leaving you and your lead for the night to close all by yourselves. and your lead? choi san. 
closing with san wouldn’t be such a problem if it weren’t for your massive crush on him. out of the other leads, san was the kindest. he didn’t lose his cool if your clumsy nature got the best of you during a hectic shift. in fact, he took his time to ensure everything was okay. he didn’t care if there were angry customers demanding that their drinks be made. his baristas were his number one priority. 
and well, with his appearance today, it would be more difficult than usual. donned in a white button up and some black slacks, his brown apron over, you think you’re going to faint. on a regular basis, san wore simple things like the occasional sweater or t-shirts and jeans, but this new look was making you all sorts of dizzy. you felt inferior beside him. (though technically, you were.)
with hongjoong, seonghwa, and yeosang leaving all at the same time, you were in a crisis. how were you supposed to survive this shift? it’s like the universe meticulously crafted this moment so it could laugh at you. and it all started with you burning yourself on that goddamn steam wand, while you were on bar with san of all people. 
“are you sure you don’t want me to send you home?” san asks lowly, making sure only you heard him. the two of you were finishing an order when he asked the question. 
“i couldn’t let you close by yourself.” you pout. as hard as it’s going to be working with him alone for three hours, you’d feel awful leaving him to fend for himself. 
“i can ask yeo or hwa to stay,” he shrugs, putting a lid on the iced vanilla latte in front of you. “i don’t want you to hurt yourself again.”
“i’ll be fine, san,” you reassure. “besides, seonghwa would probably kill me if i was the reason he had to stay later than he had to.”
san laughs a little, eyes scrunching up in the cute way they do when he smiles. your heart rate spikes and you have to take a deep breath to compose yourself. he nods as he turns to hand out the order. 
“if you insist.”
maybe you should’ve taken him up on that offer to go home. 
you’re too distracted by the way his rolled up sleeves strain against his muscular arms, staring a little too much. hongjoong just so happens to walk out of the back at that exact moment. he thinks your (very obvious) crush on san is funny, but not when the line is wrapped and you’re about to be down two men. 
“y/n, there’s five drinks waiting to be made,” he calls out, tapping on seonghwa and yeosang’s shoulders to let them know they can go. “what’s more important that has you standing there doing nothing?”
“sorry…” you apologize sheepishly, avoiding his gaze as you start on the next order; a dry cappuccino with cinnamon. great. another drink that required you using that godforsaken steam wand. a truly evil contraption. 
“i can be milk if you’d like?” san suggests suddenly, noticing your hesitation to steam the 2%. 
“if it’s not too much of an ask,” you frown. “i just don’t want to hold us back in the middle of a rush.”
“you don’t need to explain yourself to me, y/n,” he quickly swaps places with you. “i think you’re pretty damn good with a portafilter anyway.”
it’s a stupid compliment. only another barista would even know what that meant, but you take it to heart. your body flushes with warmth as you tamp the espresso grounds and pull a shot viable enough to use for the cappuccino. you’re a little shaky as you pour it into the paper cup and wait for san to pour the milk. 
this was the closest you’d get to flirting with san, and it was him telling you that you were actually good at your job. what a sad life you lived. 
thankfully, you manage to bulldoze through the line with just the two of you. in times like these, your solution is to go nonverbal and lock in. if you talk while you’re making drinks, you get distracted too easily and you find it’s harder to multitask. after the rush, things are slow for the most part and then it’s just you, san, and the sound of cafe music playing quietly over the speakers at 9 PM. 
“y/n, can i ask you a question?” san inquires, counting the till as you wipe down the espresso machine and the bar around it. 
“what’s up?” you hum, refolding your rag. he shuts the register and walks over to you, leaning on the bar adjacent to the one you were at. 
“i’m curious, and you don’t have to answer if you’re uncomfortable, but i’ve heard that you like me. is that true?” it comes out so politely, you’re not even sure you heard him correctly. you blink as the words process in your brain. this was the end. now you really wished you went home early. 
“well— um— i don’t know how to answer that…” you fiddle with your fingers, looking everywhere but at san. 
“all i want is a yes or no, because truth is,” he walks closer and closer until he’s directly in front of you. “i have a little crush on you myself.”
“you what?!” you don’t mean to sound so shocked, so appalled even, because he takes a step back, eyes widened by your outburst. you’re just so confused. choi san liked you? like, liked you?
“i’ll take that as a—“
“no!” you stand upright, grabbing his wrist. when you realize what you’ve done, you immediately let go. “i mean, no, as in yes. i do like you, san. i was just… embarrassed… that you found out from elsewhere instead of me. and i’m a little in disbelief that you feel the same.”
“why’s that?” his head tilts to the side a bit. “what’s not to like about you?”
“for starters, i’m the biggest klutz on the planet.” you huff, but that makes his smile grow wider. 
“i think that’s your charming point,” he admits, hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks. “while i don’t enjoy seeing you hurt, like when you burned yourself earlier, i do think it’s kinda cute when you accidentally knock over a drink.”
“are you okay in the head? were you dropped on it as a baby?” you ask with a raised eyebrow. he laughs, this time a full on laugh that has him bringing a fist up to his mouth. you think you just shed a tear. and not from your eyes. 
“i don’t believe so. i guess i’m just attracted to people who aren’t afraid of being themselves,” he shrugs, reaching out to take your hand into his. “and you check all the boxes.”
remember the whole fainting thing? that’s about to come true. you manifested it. 
san brings your knuckles up to his lips, first kissing over the bandaid where your burn was and then all over the back of your hand. you stand there like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing but no words escaping you. was the universe… rewarding you somehow?
“how often does joong check the cameras?” you gasp when his kisses have moved from your hand to your neck. he doesn’t break contact, speaking into your skin as he unties your apron. 
“almost never, but you have a point.”
this is how you end up on san’s lap in hongjoong’s office chair, fingers tangled in each other’s hair, lips locked like no tomorrow. he was a fantastic kisser, which just further proved your theory that he was the perfect human being. along with the subtle flirting, and the obvious knack for respecting boundaries, it’s almost like the universe had hand crafted choi san to be the ideal man. and they say chivalry is dead. pft, san’s existence dispels that notion undoubtedly. 
“he won’t know, right?” you pant, arching into him when he sucks at a particular part on the base of your throat. he hums. 
“you’re worrying too much,” san’s fingers slip under your top, digging into your waist. “i promise, he won’t find out. but we’ve gotta be quick since he’ll know what time we left.”
“m’kay,” you sigh, grinding down on his lap to help speed things along. the undressing process is a blur. you wish you could spend more time admiring his bare chest and arms, especially because you’d been fantasizing about this moment for almost an entire year now. 
“god, you’re so gorgeous, y/n,” he murmurs, reconnecting your lips sweetly. his hands massage the sides of your thighs as you hover over him, preparing to sink down on his cock. “i finally have you all to myself.”
you whine when you do, his words encouraging your arousal. the intrusion has you moaning softly, eyes squeezing shut from the sheer pleasure streaming through your veins. your nails scrape his shoulders and back, toes curling. the tip of his dick grazes that sensitive spot deep in your cunt with ease, as if he was made to be inside of you. 
“feels— fuck— feels so good, san,” you whimper, head falling to the crook of his neck. san chuckles, albeit a little strained. his hands remain in your hips, aiding your movement so you don’t get too tired. 
“is that right, sweetheart?” he says into your ear, nipping the lobe gently. “you’re taking me so well.” 
his praise shoots straight to your core, punching another moan out of you. you really shouldn’t be surprised that he’s inching you towards the edge of that familiar tide so fast. it’s san, and like you’ve stated before, he’s damn near perfect. but holy shit, the way he’s fucking you has you thinking that there is such a thing as heaven. 
you have to bite down on his collarbone to stop yourself from screaming like a fucking pornstar, leaving a myriad of marks on his skin to restrain the ferality threatening to jump out of you. every drag of his cock on your velvety walls drives you just a little more insane each time. 
he’s moving so slow, but so deep all at once, and it’s just the right combination to decorate the backs of your eyelids in stars and colored spots. his ring and middle fingers meet your swollen clit, circling with practiced pressure. the office chair squeaks awfully with each of your bounces on his lap, but you’re too close to pay it any mind. instead, you drown it out with your own noises— warnings of your impending orgasm. 
“gonna cum— my god, san, i’m—!” you don’t even finish your sentence, the tide finally reaching the shore. your orgasm washes over you hard and unlike any other you’ve ever experienced before. you aren’t sure if he’s just that good, or if it’s because it’s san. (most likely a combination of both.) 
san coos, guiding you through the peak of your climax. once you’ve calmed considerably, you slide him out of you and stroke his cock until he’s painting the inside of your thighs with milky white and a groan. his face screws up in pleasure, eyes fluttered shut and brows knit together. his lashes kiss the tops of his cheeks and you think you’ve just fallen in love, for real. 
his chest rises and falls as he attempts to catch his breath. you can’t help placing a hand over the left side to feel the rapidity of his heartbeat, smiling to yourself. he mirrors your expression after a moment, leaning up to press a sensual kiss to your lips. 
“as fun as this was, and as much as i like the view right now, it’d be better if i could actually take you out after this… and if i could fuck you somewhere nicer than on our manager’s desk chair.” san bites at the inside of his lip, glancing down at the rolling chair beneath you. 
“i agree,” you giggle, brushing his hair from his face. “hongjoong’s office isn’t the ideal location for a first date or first time sleeping together. but at least we’ll have a fun story to tell our kids.”
san bursts into laughter at that. “our kids, huh? you’ve thought that far ahead?”
“i’ve had a crush on you since i got hired, choi san, what do you think?” you raise an eyebrow, booping his nose with your index finger. he scrunches it up with a grin. 
“i think that i’ve had a crush on you just as long. and if we’re having kids, it’s best to omit some details when we retell this story.” 
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© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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carolmunson · 28 days
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18+ stoned!reader x stoned!eddie, some semi smut found this in my drafts from a couple days ago that i wrote when i was...also stoned. utter nonesense, most of it.
“Shh—hehe-shh, no, no, we have to be — hahaha — sh, sh, quiet,” he whisper yells, stumbling over himself while he nearly knocks a lamp off of a side table in Steve Harrington’s living room. The rest of the gang filled the guest bedrooms, leaving you both on the pull out couch.
His sweaty hand clasps yours as you finally make it to the kitchen, squinting in the light against the white tiles.
“Ugh, put the dimmer on,” you whine into another peal of ‘quiet’ giggles.
“Okay, okay,” he nods, leaning against the wall while he twists the light switch knob, the lights going to a low yellow.
“That’s better — shit,” he huffs, grinning.
“What?” you grin back,
“M’stoned as shit, babe,” he laughs, rubbing his swollen red eyes.
“Me—haha, me too,” you laugh back. You both make your way to the abandoned s’mores ingredients on the counter, the reason for the adventure to the kitchen.
“I don’t really get marshmallows,” he says, popping one into his mouth, “Li’ I get them, buh I don’ really get them.”
“True, true,” you nod, breaking a graham cracker in half, staring at the crumbs on the marble, “They’re like — oh my god — holy shit, they’re a fake food.”
“Babe, fuck — you’re so right,” he nods, “Like what’re they even made of?”
“Like…plastic, babe. I think they’re plastic,” you nod back, eyes as wide as they can go — and it’s not wide at all, “Like from space. They’re space plastic.”
“They’re totally space plastic,” he agrees, putting another one in his mouth, “Tasthy, shug-ry, spacthe, plasdic.”
“M’so thirsty,” you complain, turning the sink on with little grace, leaning forward to drink from the faucet.
“Aw, shit, me too — move,” Eddie grumbles, holding his hair back and hip bumping you out of the way.
“Hey!” you whine, hip bumping him back, knocking your forehead against his to get back to the water.
“You hey!” he laughs back, face half reproachful and half mischievous, “I’ll count to five and then hahaha, then it’s my turn.”
You drink quick while he counts down, taking turns in intervals of five until you both think you’ve been drinking water for hours.
“3, 4…”
“Okay enough, you’re waterboarding me,” you gasp after a gulp, turning the sink off.
“You don’t even know what that means.”
“No Ed, you don’t even know what that means.”
“No you,” he tuts, leaning in for a kiss.
“No you,” you tut back, letting him kiss you softly. Unsurprisingly, you both let out simultaneous groans, knowing you’re both on shaky ground if you keep at it. It takes little effort for him to convince you to sit up on the island counter so his hips can line up against yours, ringed and tattooed hands gripping your thighs without thought or care behind it, just need. Just bare need from the roots. He pushes forward, the hard on tenting his boxers pressing up flat against you. Two more breathy groans coming from between your kisses while he rocks against your panties.
“I don’t have a condom with me,” he whispers against your lips.
“Sss…hmmm, it’s okay,” you mumble out, swollen eyes now shut while your body tingles through with pleasure, “S’feelin’reallygood babe.”
“You all extra sensitive?” he asks, the giggles gone, just eyes that want you — brain focused now on chasing the pleasure in his groin.
“Yeah,” you whimper, his chest pressing up against yours when he brings his mouth to your neck. To your spot. The whine you let out is a little too loud and you both know it — enough that he covers your mouth while he keeps going, hips still grinding in a steady rhythm against you. He tugs you down back to the floor by your hips, turning you around without a second thought, oversized t-shirt rucked up to your waist.
“You want me?” he asks, pulling your panties to the side. You nod hurriedly.
“Please,” you whisper, hips wiggling — which makes him laugh, which makes you laugh, and then you look at the marshmallows on the counter and it’s space plastic all over again. Giggles and kisses while he gets ready to ease into you and put you both to bed exhausted.
“I hope the aliens don’t come,” you murmur between sloppy pecks, “For the space plastic.”
The light in the kitchen gets bright, bright, bright, “We’re getting abducted babe.”
“What’re you talking about?” Steve’s annoyed voice echos from the other end of the room, “You guys are being so loud.”
You and Eddie separate like embarrassed high schoolers who got caught kissing behind the bleachers. Like dad walked in on something he shouldn’t have.
“Sorry, Harrington,” Eddie smirks, “We were just—”
“Getting water!” you interrupt.
“Yeah I see that,” Steve huffs, crossing his arms, “It’s all over the floor.”
He’s not wrong, it is, the two of you looking at the tile like kids who are definitely in trouble.
“We’ll clean it up Steve, sorry,” Eddie assures, much more apologetic now.
“Just — go to bed guys,” he sighs, “Or I’m making you sleep in separate rooms next time.”
When he leaves you both toss each other a look, mocking Steve’s exasperated face with another silent outbreak of breathy giggles. After wiping up the water, you put away the snacks together and click the light off, settling back down in the pull out couch under the covers. The high now holding you down in a cozy grip, making your eyes lull and your breaths slow.
“M’sleepy,” you whisper under the crisp sheets.
“Me too,” he nods, intertwining his limbs with yours like he does every night. Curly hair creeping onto your face while he settles his head in the crook of your neck, “But babe?”
“Yeah?” you ask into the quiet of the room, eyes closed, sleep pulling you further and further away.
“M’gonna rail you when we get home tomorrow,” he mutters, half asleep.
“M’kay,” you nod, “Thass—that sounds good. I like that. I’ll get us a ticket.”
“Hm?”
“For the rail…for the railroad.”
“I’ve been workin’ on the rail road,” he sings quietly.
“All the live long day…” you both harmonize, more giggles, sleepy giggles.
“I’ve been workin’ on the rail road, just to pass the time away…”
“Guys,” Steve’s sharp whisper calls from the stairs, “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight Steve,” you mumble in unison, singing the song in quiet whispers — falling asleep before you even make it to the end.
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nickfowlerrr · 9 months
Text
i never thought you’d happen to me - 2
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part one / part three
pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, bit of angst. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. some morally dubious homemade porn viewing 💀. if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!
words: 6.7k
notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card. fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think!
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Back at the house, your house, you wander around the living room as Bucky sits on the tablet in the kitchen, consumed by whatever it is he's looking through.
You stop at the large bookshelf that's screwed into the wall, the picture frames all around catching your attention.
You smile at the baby pictures of the twins, admiring their tiny faces as you and Bucky each hold one, looking down at them like they were the only things in the world that mattered. You note how close you are to Bucky in the photo, practically in his lap as you lean into him.
Your eyes drift down the case before landing on a gorgeous shot, breathtaking, really.
You're in white, the elegant dress you don seemingly straight out of your dreams as you recline into Bucky who stands behind you, his arms around your waist as your hands cover his. You're smiling as he appears to be whispering something in your ear, a smile of his own evident as he does.
It's intimate and delicate and it seizes your heart as you can't seem to take your eyes off of it.
Your mind can't seem to make sense of it, though.
How do you get from here to there? How can you ever have this life? It seems so unreal.
Bucky can’t stand you more than half the time,  he's made that fact abundantly clear. So how the hell does he go from that to this? What changes? Why?
The sound of your name being called gets your attention as you wipe at your welling eyes. You hadn't noticed it happening, but you felt it when you finally blinked and looked away from the photo.
"Yeah?"
"My card is linked to this thing apparently, I was gonna order food."
"Okay," you breathe.
"What do you want?"
"I don't care. Whatever is fine," you brush off as you finally turn around and meet his eye. "I'm gonna shower."
He doesn't respond, but he doesn't take his eyes off of you either, watching you intently as you pass him and walk back to the room.
----
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The car ride back to the house seemed longer without the twins there to distract you from your close proximity to Bucky. And being alone together once you finally got back, despite the huge space allotted to you in this house, still seemed stifling. There was a growing tension between you that was more than ready to break.
You weren’t unfamiliar with the feeling. 
It seemed to be ever present when you two were around each other and only intensified the longer you were alone with one another. 
As you began undressing, starting the water for your shower, your mind wandered to the last time you found yourself in such close quarters with him. 
You were both beyond exhausted when you’d gotten back to the tower after your mission. It hadn’t gone as smoothly as anyone would have hoped, but you got the job done, if not just a little worse for wear. 
You were leaning against the right side of the elevator, facing the door as Bucky stood closer to the left side, facing the same direction as you. It was quiet, and though your body was sore beyond belief, you mentally chided yourself for not just taking the stairs. You’d just finished giving him a piece of your mind after he made yet another unhelpful comment about how you could have easily avoided being flung down a flight of stairs earlier. 
Crazy as it might have seemed, receiving a play by play of every tiny misstep you’d taken after a mission as grueling as that one didn’t go over too well with you. Especially as you stood with bandaged ribs, miscellaneous cuts, bumps, and bruises all over your body, and what you were sure was a concussion causing the throbbing in your head. 
You closed your eyes as you let your head rest against the wall, one hand on the rail and the other holding your duffel. 
A sudden jerking had your eyes snapping open as you held tighter to the railing to keep your balance, the light above shutting off briefly before a dimmer one returned as the elevator completely stopped moving.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you groused under your breath before sinking down to the floor in utter exhaustion. The elevator had been on the fritz since before you had even left for the mission last week, you assumed they would’ve gotten it fixed by the time you returned. Clearly you were wrong.
You watched as Bucky hit random buttons on the panel in front of him in a vain attempt to get the thing to move again. You wanted to say something snarky but just sighed exaggeratedly instead. After a moment, still no words spoken between either of you, Bucky took out his emergency phone and called for help.
You didn’t pay much attention to his conversation as the pressure in your head grew, but his next words caught your attention completely. 
“What the hell do you mean an hour?” he nearly growled into the phone. 
You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation well but there were only so many people he could have called at this hour that would be able to help and the snicker that made its way through the line had you betting on Stark.
He hung up and chanced a glance to you, meeting your gaze. “Might be a while,” he huffed before looking away. 
He approached the doors of the elevator and you winced at the sound they emitted as he pulled them open slightly. He was greeted by nothing but the walls of the elevator shaft before he allowed the doors to close again. You watched as he checked the time on his phone before he sat down himself. You let your eyes shut again, your tiredness winning out in the quiet settling over you. It was maybe ten minutes later when you were rudely awoken by Bucky.
You were impressed with his bravery because you could still feel your irritation roiling off of you from your earlier exchange. Your eyes were still closed when you felt his fingers brush against the bruise on your jaw. 
“What?” you asked harshly, swatting his hand away from you as you shot daggers at him with your glare.
“Considering how often you find yourself in the med bay, you’d think you’d know the basics of what not to do when it comes to head trauma.” 
“Jesus Christ, you just never fucking stop, do you,” you huffed before snapping completely. “I get it, Bucky, okay? I’m a fuck up, I’m reckless and careless and I don’t think before I act, is that what you wanna hear? Are you happy now? I admit it! I’m everything you say I am. But at the end of the day, I have never put you or anyone else in harm’s way. And just a reminder, I got the files and took out everyone I needed to along the way by myself. So I don’t know, maybe give me a little fucking credit for once,” you raged, the pain in your body only adding to your anger.
“This isn’t about me or the mission getting done or anyone else,” he fired back, his tone catching you off guard, though you refused to show it, “I’m never worried about any of that. But you are careless. Look at you! You put yourself in needless danger over and over again, and yeah, it pisses me off. You always end up hurt when you never should have been in the position to get hurt to begin with. You think I enjoy seeing you like this? I’m your partner, I’m the one who’s supposed to have your back and yet every assignment, you continue to go out of your way to make it damn near impossible for me to do.”
“Your job isn’t to keep me from getting hurt,” you deflected, not wanting to focus on the way his words were making you feel as you flicked your eyes away from his burning blue ones. It was too confusing. A mix of care and chastation you were having trouble processing at once. 
“And yours isn’t to get killed in some pathetic attempt to prove yourself,” he shot back before his tone quieted significantly. “You have nothing to prove,” he finished. 
Your gaze softened at that, a sense of embarrassment coming over you at how clearly he saw through you; The simultaneous feeling of validation his last words offered had the previous tension you felt in your anger lightening before you let your eyes slowly return to his.
There was a thick silence between you as you looked at one another, nothing but your slowing breaths to be heard. His gaze wasn’t as harsh now, but it still took a lot out of you to hold it. The intensity his eyes held was unmatched. You hadn’t realized before, how much closer he had gotten to you, but it was evident now as you nearly felt yourself buzzing - suddenly all too aware of everything in the confined void you’d found yourselves in. 
And then, you couldn’t say why or how, but you found your eyes falling to his lips. A stuttered breath leaving you as inadvertently leaned in a bit closer to him. 
That wasn’t you, though, you’d realized after a split second, one hand reaching up to hold the rail. 
The elevator jolted a bit as it began to move again, only a few seconds passing before the ding signaling its arrival at the top floor sounded. You were still looking at one another, maybe more intensely than you’d realized, when the doors slid open.
“Uh-oh, did I interrupt something? Let me guess, lover’s quarrel?”
Your gaze quickly turned into a glare as you both turned to see Tony waiting at the doors for you.
You rolled your eyes and got up as quickly as you could, trying to hide your winces of pain as you did. 
“Fuck off,” you said as you brushed past him.
“Is that your catchphrase now?” he called after you, “Ya know, I like it, it suits you.”
You remember how embarrassed you were after that night, praying that Bucky hadn’t noticed where your eyes had drifted to, or if he did that he’d have the decency to pretend he hadn’t. You’d chalked it up to a moment of weakness. You weren’t stupid enough to expect him to return your (very well kept to yourself) feelings. You never expected anything out of him, and honestly you’d been trying to shake them yourself since you’d been partnered up. You avoided him for a good week straight after that night, and neither of you has brought it up since.
Even now, you could pretend all you wanted that those feelings didn’t exist, but deep down, you knew they were alive and well. And clearly, as you looked again at the picture of you and Bucky sitting on the bedside table, it wasn’t something you could believably go on denying much longer.
The shower helped. Kind of. You feel better physically, but your mind is still dead set on trying to figure out the future. You take your time drying off and getting into a clean pair of pajamas while Bucky waits in the kitchen.
He's scrolling through every app he can, trying to piece together his future as it stands. And if he's being honest, trying to figure out how the hell he was able to get you to stop hating him. How he was able to get you to fall in love with him..
He opens up the photo library, grinning as he sees photo after photo of the twins, and some family photos, pictures of you, pictures of him, intermingled in.
He backs out of the gallery and scrolls down mindlessly through the albums. His eyes land on the "Hidden" tab and he clicks on it without too much thought, his face unlocking it and granting him access.
His eyes go wide, his mouth goes dry at the images that liter the screen. 
He should close out, look away, something, but he doesn't. The scandalous photos grab him and he just can't. One icon in particular catches his eye and he clicks on it without thinking, the video playing instantly.
He watches the screen intently, hunching over the tablet as he holds it tightly in his hands. Sees himself leave from in front of the camera, his movement revealing you as you wait for him on your bed. You're peering up at him attentively as he approaches you before you spare a glance to the camera and then back to him. A soft smirk playing on your lips as he towers over you, causing you to look up further and further as you recline until you’re on your back. 
“Hi,” you simper breathily, earning a smirk from him in return.
“Hi,” he breathed, leaning ever closer.
He watches as you scoot back on the bed and he follows you, his hands tracing down your curves, fingers playing with the material of your lingerie before he drops his head and begins trailing kisses from the softness of your stomach, up your sternum and along your neck before finally your lips meet.
Bucky is completely enraptured in the scene playing out before his very eyes. He’s sitting here feeling jealous of himself as you run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you before you bring a leg up around his hip, arching your body into his own.
It’s sensual at first but you both seem to grow impatient quickly as your kissing heats up and becomes more and more hungry. 
Finally, you slip a hand down and tug at the waistband of his boxers until he pulls away. 
Bucky can see your face perfectly, your eyes are dark as you push yourself up onto your forearms, watching him.
Instead of ridding himself of his boxers right away, he slowly, teasingly drags your silky underwear down your thick thighs as you watch him with heavy eyes, your legs spread just for him.
“Look at the camera,” he hears his own voice command.
Your eyes flick from him to the lens as Bucky swallows thickly, still completely unable to look anywhere but you. 
You gasp suddenly as he quickly buries his face between your thighs, your fingers tightening in his hair as your head lolls back some. Your soft moans begin tumbling past your lips as he focuses his attention solely on you, devoted and unrelenting as you mewl and writhe under his ministrations.
When a whimper of his name leaves you, it causes Bucky to shift in his seat, trying to ease the ache growing in his shorts as he watches you rock yourself against his face.
“Buck,” you moan, “please,” you whine with a tug of his hair. 
He watches as your toes curl, feet arching, and your entire body seems to tense around him, your eyes squeezing shut as your mouth hangs open until your legs quake and you let out a tight, shaky whimper on an exhale. You bite your knuckle in an attempt to keep yourself quiet while he continues working you through your orgasm. 
When he finally lets up and gives you a chance to collect yourself, he moves up your body, finding your lips as he kisses you again, leaving you even more breathless than you had been.
“It’s just you and me tonight, doll. Don’t hold back on me,” he kisses you again, his hands going around your back to undo your bra. “I’m gonna wanna hear you when I watch this back,” he smirks.
You're completely naked as Bucky stands before you, finally taking off his boxers. “Turn around for me,” he tells you. 
You do as he says, getting on all fours with him situated perfectly behind you. He angles you both so the camera has a better view. Bucky watches as he teases your entrance with his tip, over and over again as you whine and wiggle your ass in pure desperation for him.
He keeps the volume low as he lets the video play, he isn’t sure how much time passes as his eyes are glued to the screen, watching himself take you as you let him. He listens to how prettily you cry for him, to the salacious sounds of his cock driving into you over and over, the wet squelching mixing with the slapping of skin as he fucks you hard.
Bucky feels his cock twitching in his shorts as he watches you come for him before hearing himself groan deeply, moaning while he empties his load into your pretty cunt.
He watches the come down, sees himself running his hands along your skin, peppering kisses all over your body, before you roll over beneath him, pulling him down to you and kissing him desperately.
He is entirely unsure about the morality of this all, but he can't look away.
"Fuck, you're amazing," he breathes heavily as he pulls away from you just so. "Thank you, sweetheart," he grins lazily, stroking your cheek.
"Mmm,” you hum contentedly as you look up at him before continuing, “If anyone ever sees this, I'll kill you," you promise him with an 'I mean it' stare before pulling him back to you, crashing your lips together.
"No one'll see it, doll. I promise. For my eyes only," he says as he nuzzles into you. "You have no idea how much I miss you when I'm gone, baby."
"I think I have some idea," you respond, the sultry tone of your voice effortless as you wrap a leg around him.
It looks like you're about to go for another round, and the thirty minutes left in the video seem to confirm that thought, when Bucky hears the door of the bedroom finally opening.
He quickly closes out of the video, sliding the tablet away from himself before trying to hide and adjust his very obvious erection before you come in.
He clears his throat loudly, a bit awkwardly, as you enter the kitchen, earning a questioning brow from you as you walk toward the pizza box.
"You good?" you ask him as you grab a slice, not bothering with a plate.
He nods a bit too stiffly for your liking as you assess him. His cheeks are a little flush and he can't seem to look you in the eye.
"What did you do?" you question accusatorily.
"Nothing. I'm gonna shower now, if that's alright with you?" he questions haughtily.
You make a face at his tone, rolling your eyes as you turn around to grab a glass for water.
He doesn't mean for it to happen, but as you turn from him, his eyes fall to your ass, and he has to work to stop the groan that threatens to tumble from his lips as his mind replays the video for him.
Fucking creep, he chides himself as his cock twitches again. He takes the opportunity to stand and get to the bathroom as your back is to him.
---
You're on your third piece of pizza when Bucky returns to the kitchen, grabbing a slice for himself.
He's spent the last half hour going over in his mind exactly how you two could have possibly ended up here. He's still confused. And at his wit’s end.
Bucky speaks before he can think better of it.
"Why do you hate me?" he asks, seemingly out of the blue, causing you to turn toward him with quizzical eyes as you swallow your bite.
"Excuse me?" you ask in disbelief.
"Why do you hate me?" he repeats himself, his gaze never faltering as he holds your stare.
You're honestly dumbfounded.
You sputter for a second before attempting to form actual words. "I don't hate you, Bucky," you answer as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And seeing your future, you were pretty sure it must have been. "I mean, clearly," you add a little embarrassed for yourself.
"No? Then why do you act like you do?"
"I -,” you’re about to deny the accusation, but truthfully, you know he’s right. So you pause before giving the only answer you can come up with. “I don't know. Self-preservation?"
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Defense mechanism. I mean, you've been a complete dick to me since day one, Bucky. Am I supposed to just let you ream me whenever you feel like it - justified or not. And for the record, most of the time, it's not. You treat me differently from everyone else, sidelining me over nothing, questioning my every move, and I don't know why but I stopped trying to figure it out a while ago," you spoke candidly.
He was quiet for a minute as he took in your words. You watched as his brows furrowed, his gaze dropping as he licked his lips mindlessly.
"I'm sorry," he finally said at last. It was soft, but sincere as a pained look seemed to have taken over his face. "I never meant to make you feel that way. But clearly I did. It's just.. you're so stubborn," he says with a shake of his head as his eyes meet yours once again. "I do treat you differently. Because, truthfully, you fucking terrify me. You can be reckless; you act like you're expendable, and you're not. You're the furthest thing from it. I just don't want to see you get hurt. And maybe I was too scared to actually voice that aloud before, but it is the truth. I don't know, I guess, I thought I was keeping you safe somehow, protecting you. And I know you don't need me to. I'm sorry. For being a dick, for interfering when I shouldn't have, and for not talking to you about things before. I am sorry."
You’re silent and quietly awed at his admission, swallowing hard before forcing yourself to break away from his brilliant blue gaze.
"Thank you," you accept, not knowing where to go from here. "Good to know you don't hate me," you add.
"Yeah, same here," he smiles softly. Another moment passes before you speak again, something unspoken growing between you.
"So, just to be clear, was that you admitting that...you like me?" you ask, hearing how juvenile you sound but not really caring all that much.
"That was me admitting that I care about you."
You take a breath and nod, "Oh, okay. So, you don't like me?"
"I didn't say that," he almost scoffs.
"So you do like me?" you ask again with a furrowed brow.
"Jesus, doll," he laughs lightly, "We're married."
"Not yet," you counter.
Bucky walks toward you, pizza long forgotten by you both as he suddenly gets to his knees before you while you stay seated in the chair, his face right about level to yours as you watch him with stilled breath.
His eyes are blazing a fiery blue as he holds your gaze. You have to blink at the intensity.
"I like you," he breathes quietly, careful not to break the soft air of intimacy as you stay so close to each other, earning a small smile from you in turn.
"I told Kate I had a crush on you during recruitment, that's why she always makes comments about us going on missions together so often," you admit unprompted, the urge to tell him the embarrassing secret you'd tried to keep hidden from the moment you let it slip to Kate just overcoming you.
Bucky smiles boyishly at that. "Steve was convinced from the beginning I had a thing for you, that's why we go out on missions together so often."
You can't fight the half smile that adorns your lips at his words, "Was he right?" you question. 
He nods.
"He was right," he whispers as he leans in closer to you. "Does our future not make that obvious?" he teases.
You don't think as you lean into him, one hand finding the back of his head and raking your fingers through the soft, dark brown strands as you breathe a bit heavier with anticipation, you watch as his eyes close at your touch, leaning ever closer. You’re sure he can hear the uptick of your heart as he meets your gaze once again, before your eyes flit to his lips. 
You shrug, a playful tilt to your lips.
"I can think of some other things that might make it more obvious," you murmur as you let your forehead press against his own, waiting for him to close the distance between your lips now.
His hand comes up to gently hold your face before he slowly brushes his lips against yours. 
It's soft and gentle as you kiss him again, but after a moment, one kiss turning into another and then another, your lips press harder against each other, hotter as it intensifies, your hand gripping his hair ever so slightly as he kisses you back just as hard before finally you force yourself to break away.
You shudder a breath as you part, catching your breath, but neither of you drop your hands.
Bucky's thumb gently strokes your cheek as you gaze into one another's eyes. So much unspoken, and yet so much being shared with the look alone.
The ringing of the tablet breaks you two up, though, as a FaceTime call pops up.
The contact is Natasha and seeing her name has you grabbing for the tablet and accepting the call right away.
"Hey," she greets as the sound of a movie playing in the background mingling with the giggles of children and fake cries for help from Steve can be heard just beyond her smoky voice.
"Hey, what's up? Did something happen?" you ask, hoping you don't sound as uncharacteristically panicked as you feel.
"That's what I was gonna ask you two. There a reason your daughter keeps twirling around shouting 'fucking dick' into the air every ten minutes?" She asks.
Your brows raise in surprise as your mouth parts open on nothing.
Bucky titters at the thought of that precious angel twirling around with a mouth like a sailor - a mouth like her mother. He smirks, answering for you.
"Yeah, that'd be thanks to her mother over here."
"Why am I not surprised," Nat responds.
"Sorry, she was mimicking me this morning and we didn't tell her to stop," you grimace. "Hey, can you put them on really quickly?"
"Yeah, that's actually the real reason I called. They wanted to say goodnight before they go to bed," she says as she walks into the living room.
"Linc, El, got some folks who wanna talk to you over here."
Your eyes light up as their perfect little faces fill the screen as Nat holds her phone for them.
When they register it's you and Bucky on screen, they smile brightly, calling out to you both.
"Hi, munchkins," you smile at the screen, Bucky right beside you.
"You guys getting ready for bed?" he asks.
"We're ready, Daddy! Just have to say goodnight to you and Mommy."
"Yeah we have to say goodnight so - and then we can sleep,"
You chuckle as Lincoln rubs his tired eyes.
"But I miss you Mommy," he pouts at the screen.
"'S okay, Linc," Ellie says as she takes her brother's hand, comforting him easily. You swear you're on the verge of tears as you smile at the sweetness.
"Sweetheart, I miss you, too. We miss both of you very much. But you guys are gonna have so much fun tomorrow! And we'll see you so soon, I promise. You two be good and listen to your Aunt and Uncle, okay? Oh, and Ellie,” her eyes widen as you say her name, looking attentively at your face on screen, “let's keep 'fucking dick' just an at home thing, alright?"
She giggles at your words but nods, "Okay, Mommy."
"Alright, goodnight you two," you say softly, not sure you’re ready to call it a night with them knowing what tomorrow is promised to bring.
"Goodnight, Mommy. I love you," they respond in unison.
"I love you more."
"Daddy's turn!" Linc calls for his father.
"Goodnight, Daddy," he says when Bucky leans further into the frame before you hand him the tablet to hold completely.
"Goodnight, Daddy," Ellie smiles.
"I love you," they say, again in unison. The sound is the cutest thing you've ever heard.
"Goodnight, guys. I love you more," he finishes with a soft, almost sad smile of his own before they run off the couch and chase Steve out of the room with the other kids. Nat offers you both a goodnight and a happy anniversary, parting with a wink before she hangs up.
"Those are ours," you say after a moment, astonishment lacing your tone.
"Yeah," Bucky chuckles. "We made those little punks."
"Ya know, I don't think we did too bad considering it's our first day."
"No, we were great. Naturals. They had absolutely no clue we'd never known them before today."
You laugh at that before the silence grows between you again. It's not something unusual for you guys, but the hot tension mounting in this moment in particular certainly is.
Bucky is still kneeling beside you, his large hand settled on your thick, plush thigh.
You scoot back, your weight pushing the chair. The movement allows his hand to smooth over your skin, sending sparks through you and raising goosebumps under his touch.
You try to pretend that it didn't send sparks alight in your belly as you move back further and stand, Bucky turning his gaze to follow your movements.
The sight of him on his knees before you, looking up at you with those devout blue eyes, it has your stomach fluttering as you take a deep breath.
He stands after a second, towering over you once again, somehow even closer now as you look up at him.
"What now?" you whisper.
"That's up to you, doll," he responds, voice lower than you've heard it before, his warmth radiating off of him and into you.
You see his hand twitch by his side, like he's holding himself back from reaching out and touching you again.
"Well," you swallow, "they said it's our anniversary, right?"
"Mhm,"
You raise your brows, shrugging the tiniest bit as you nervously lick your lips.
"You wanna celebrate?" you ask, your voice a little tight and heady as you flick your gaze back up to the darkening oceans of his eyes.
His lips crash into yours without another word, his speed catching you off guard as you gasp into his mouth. Bucky lifts you up like you weigh absolutely nothing and your legs circle around him as he holds you up, his lips never ceasing as he walks you out of the kitchen.
You only part to catch your breath, your forehead against his as he strides into the bedroom, your heavy breaths intermingling. Your hands are in his hair as your arms are wrapped around his neck.
He sets you down on the bed before backing away, granting you space you didn't ask for. You look at him, clearly not happy with the distance he'd put between you. Before you can say anything, Bucky speaks first.
"Are you sure you wanna do this?" he asks intensely.
You look at him for a moment, hoping he can see the sincerity in your eyes. "If I'm being completely honest, Bucky, I've wanted you from the moment I met you. I wanna do this," you answer him. "I'm sure. Are you?"
Bucky pulls off his shirt as you breathe a sigh of relief, a soft titter escaping you as you watch him. He steps closer to you, taking your face in his hold, kissing you deeply. “I’m more than sure,” he speaks against your lips before pushing you back on the bed. The move has a scene playing in his mind and has him hesitating from going further as shame creeps up on him.
“I-,” he squeezes his eyes shut as he thinks through what he’s about to admit to, “I need to tell you something first.”
“What?” you ask, worry clear in your voice.
“I, well.. Hold on,” he says before getting up and leaving you sitting on the bed confused and concerned. 
Bucky returns with the tablet in hand as you eye him.
He looks like a kid about to confess his wrongdoings, eyes down on the tablet as he approaches you slowly.
“I, uh. I came across this, and.. Uhm,” he clears his throat, “I,” he takes a heavy breath, “I.. watched.. it.” he says stuntedly. “Well, not all of it, but more than I should have..”
You’re confused as he hands the tablet over to you, but take it with a quirked brow.
An image of Bucky shirtless is on the screen and you trepidatiously hit the play button, wondering what the video could possibly be. 
Your eyes go wide as you see yourself on the bed in lingerie, Bucky sporting nothing more than a pair of tight boxers. You look up at Bucky still standing before you as a blush grows on his cheeks. You watch, still wide eyed as it goes on. You’re on your back, Bucky leaning over you, and god help you, there’s a tingling in your core growing as you look on.
“No way,” you say in disbelief as it suddenly connects in your mind, eyes flicking back and forth between him and to the screen. “Is this-? Did we-? And you watched it?” you ask, scandalized as your gaze shoots back up to him. 
He rubs the back of his neck self consciously, avoiding your gaze. “I know,” he says sheepishly - you’ve never seen him like this and it’s honestly a little entertaining, a bit endearing. “I’m-” your moan coming from the speaker cuts him off and grabs your attention as you look back down at the screen, mouth going dry as your core is anything but. 
“Fuck,” you breathe as you watch Bucky on his knees, between your legs. You almost stop breathing before you look away, catching yourself and pausing the video. “Uhm. Well, that’s- this is.. Unexpected. I mean, obviously we- they- have.. sex, but, a sex tape?”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have watched it, especially not as far as I did, and I just-”
“How far did you watch?” you ask, cutting him off.
You watch as he swallows hard before sitting down next to you, taking the tablet and scrolling to about the point he had stopped when he closed the video.
“Twenty five minutes?” you ask with a light laugh, looking at the time stamp, the screen paused on a still of you pulling him down on top of your naked body. 
“I’m sorry,” he says again, clearly ashamed of himself. You can’t help but laugh, loving how remorseful he seems.
“‘S’okay,” you say with a light shake of your head, pulling the tablet from his hand and locking the screen, tossing it on the opposite side of the bed. It’s not until you straddle his lap that he looks at you finally, his hands coming up without thought to hold your waist. His eyes twinkle with something akin to wonder. “I get it, can’t blame you,” you admit, your arms draped over his broad shoulders before slipping them behind his neck. “It’s hot,” you speak sultrily, leaning closer to him, allowing your lips to brush his briefly.
His eyes fall to your lips as he breathes headily, pulling you flush to him as he holds you tighter. “You think?”
“Mhm,” you nod, your chest brushing against his bare one with your every breath before you finally let yourself kiss him once again, your noses brushing against one another. 
His arms still holding you, Bucky turns you both onto the bed, ending up above you as you continue your soft makeout. His hands wander your body, touching and squeezing your softness lightly as you sigh under him, your hands wandering his body in turn. You feel like a teenager, experiencing something you’d only thought about in the far recesses of your mind for the first time, it’s intimate and exciting and you don’t even care to take this any further, your focus only on feeling each other, on being this close.
The ringing of the tablet, though, breaks through the moment. You glance over as Bucky continues kissing you, his lips on your neck as you try to read the screen - but it’s too far and out of your reach.
“Bucky,” you urge him, causing him to finally break away from you, turning to look at who was calling. 
His eyes squint as he sits up, reaching for the tablet and answering the call.
“Steve?” he answers in question. 
“Hey, sorry to interrupt, Buck. Linc’s having a hard time going to sleep, he wanted to talk to you again, I told him I’d give you a call.”
“Yeah, yeah, put him on,” he responds.
There’s a sniffle before Lincoln’s soft voice comes through the speaker, “Daddy?”
“Hey, buddy, it’s me. What’s going on, having trouble sleeping?” he asks, sitting up more attentively as you watch him.
“Miss you,” Lincoln answers solemnly, you can imagine him rubbing at his teary eyes already as you hear him sniffle again, your heart clenching at the image. “I need Wolfie, Daddy. You forgot to bring Wolfie,” you can hear his pout over the line.
“I’m sorry, pal,” Bucky apologizes sincerely, despite neither of you having had any knowledge of “Wolfie” being a necessity. “How ‘bout we bring you Wolfie?” he asks before looking over to you briefly.
“Yeah, can you bring him to me please, Daddy?” he puffs.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll bring him right now, buddy. Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon, I promise.”
“Okay,” he says, voice wobbly. “Love you, Daddy,” he adds breathily on a huff, sounding on the very verge of tears. 
“I love you, too, buddy. We’ll be right there.”
“He’s on his way, champ,” Steve says as he takes it off speaker, bringing the phone back to his ear. “Sorry, guys,” he offers to you both.
“Don’t worry about it, we were just, uh,... hangin’ out,” he says, scrunching his face at his own stupid response as you give him a ‘what the hell’ look, your hand gesturing of its own accord.
“Oh-kay,” Steve says at the odd response, “What is up with you guys today?”
“Uhhh,”
“Wait, don’t tell me.. Are you guys expecting again?” he asks, voice hushed.
“Yeah,” Bucky answers stupidly on an exhale, your mouth dropping while you gawk at him. 
“Really?” 
“No,” Bucky answers quickly again, “I mean, maybe. We don’t- we’re not sure. We don’t know,” he tries to remedy his previous baseless answer. “Look, I have to find Wolfie, so I’ll see ya in a minute.” He doesn’t wait for Steve to respond before he ends the call on his end.
“What the fuck was that?” you say on a titter.
His face is in his hands as he sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, “I don’t know.” His response is muffled by his hands as you crawl over to him, pushing on his back to make him stand up.
“Go get the wolf,” you say as you push on him.
As he stands, you get off the bed, too, throwing his shirt at him before he turns to the door. 
“Ya know, you’d think you’d be better at this,” you taunt, earning a glare from him as he heads to the kid’s room down the hall. 
“Can you go start the car?” he huffs as you watch him walk away.
You stifle a laugh through your nose, “Mhm,” you answer before heading down the hall yourself, grabbing the keys on your way out.
As you turn to close the front door, you’re surprised as Bucky’s already behind you, the plush white wolf in hand. 
“You’re so slow,” he teases, taking the keys from your hand while you blink up at him, a smirk on his face as he passes you while you just watch, your turn to huff. 
“Dick,” you accuse as you follow him, his smirk only growing at your insult before he gets to the passenger door, holding it open for you to get in.
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classypauli · 1 month
Text
Doctor’s treatment
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!Reader
Summary: Tara´s asthma attack requires doctor´s treatment and having a hot doctor taking care of her is just a bonus, safe to say she likes the bonus better.
Word count: 2.5k
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Tara was in her room, scrolling down on her phone having nothing to do. Her sister was somewhere in the house, getting ready to go out with her boyfriend. Tara sighed, she wasn´t jealous of her sister, she was glad Sam had someone to be by her side other than her. But in times like this Tara felt lonely. Chad was now on his practice and Mindy was having a date. So she was alone, lying in her dark room with the only noise of cars driving behind her closed window.
She stood up and went to the kitchen to grab some water. She needed to find some distraction, this wasn´t good for her mental health, rotting in the bed all day. Besides school, Sam and her friends she has nothing to do or talk to.
And she tried, she used to watch a lot of movies, especially the scary ones, and talk about them, analyze their plots and characters, acting, and cinematography. It was her element. But now it´s different, it brings her feeling and memories that aren´t right. Tara loved having nights out and watching horrors while eating popcorn sitting in her living room. But those thoughts only brought her to one of her ex-friends who betrayed her.
Tara´s chest started to rise and her throat became narrow as her breathing got only worse, she grabbed the bottle of water with shaking hands and started to drink it. This wasn´t her first time having asthma, she had it lots of times, Tara was familiar with it, but still, she couldn´t control it and it was scary.
„Hey I´m heading out-“ Sam came to the kitchen finding her sister leaning against the counter, eyes closed and her hands gripping onto the table. Her knuckles were white from how hard she was holding herself from falling.
„Tara“ she immediately came by her side, eyes wide, holding her sister so she wouldn´t fall, leading her into one of the chairs to sit her down. „It´s gonna be okay, don´t worry...“ she helped her sit and rushed out to her sister´s room for an inhaler.
Sam cursed under her breath, she looked everywhere for it but couldn´t find anything. Finally one was lying in her drawer, she picked it up and ran to the kitchen. Tara´s face was now white, her sternum was rising up and down in a fast way, tears running down her cheeks as her hand was holding onto her shirt.
„Shhh here, take it“ Tara grabs the inhaler with shaking hands almost not able to hold it. After the inhale Sam was expecting her sister to get better, to finally get some oxygen to her lungs. But nothing, Tara tried it again but with no change.
„Fuck“ Sam grabbed her phone from the pocket of her jeans and dialed Danny´s number.
„Hey you ready to go-?“
„Danny! I need your help!“ Sam shouted into her phone as she still was trying to calm down her sister. „Tara´s having an asthma attack!“ Her voice was breaking as she was getting more worried by each second. „Oh God okay okay! I-I´m going to be there in second!“
„Please hurry!“ Sam cancelled the phone call and her hands found their way to her sister´s cheeks. „Just breathe, you know how we do it every time.“ The older sister started to breathe with her, taking big inhales with her nose and exhaling with her mouth. Tara was repeating her sister´s action, looking into her scarred wide eyes.
Danny soon came and helped Sam with Tara into his car. Whole car ride, her breaths were the only thing Tara could hear, her head was spinning and her hands were gripping everything that was near. She was trembling and sniffing the whole ride. Thankfully the hospital wasn´t far and the traffic wasn´t as bad.
„Please! My sister´s has an asthma!“ Sam yelled as soon as they made their way into the building. Behind the reception table was a woman, she was sitting in her seat, phone in her ear having a conversation with someone. She only looked at them with no interest.
„Ma´am you need to wait-“ Sam cut her off before she could even finish her sentence.
„Are you kidding?! She´s having an asthma attack and you are telling us to wait?!“a couple of nurses heard her yell and went to help.
„You must calm do-“ the woman tried again, Sam was so angry at the moment that if she wasn´t holding her sister she would jump across the table and beat her up. „I won´t calm down!“
One of the nurses immediately went to find a doctor and the other came by their side and helped them to go down the hallway of the hospital. Tara was now barely walking she was so tired from breathing and her head was spinning.
„Bring her here!“ Sam heard one of the doctors and was so happy that at least someone tried to help, she was so scared. „Okay let's put her here.“ The doctor was pointing at the bed and carefully was holding Tara´s body so she wouldn´t fall.
The nurse came to Sam´s side and started to gently pull her out of the room. „Ma´am please.“ She wanted to be by her sister´s side, she didn´t want to leave her here alone. Sam was afraid something would happen to her, she would never forgive herself. „She will be okay, I promise... There´s no need to worry, we just need you to wait outside.“ Sam nodded, if it meant that Tara would be okay then she would make this sacrifice.
In the room Tara was lying with her knees up leaning her back into the bed, her brain was barely processing what was happening. She just knew that Sam or Danny were no longer with her, which only created more anxiety. Someone was kneeling in front of her.
„Hi... I know how you feel right now and it can look absolutely scary but you won´t die don´t worry.“ The person was giving her some pills „I need you to take this... It will help. I promise.“ Tara took them and was now leaning again trying to calm down. Your voice was calming down her nerves, it was smooth she wanted to hear it again. As she looked up at the person, her heart almost stopped.
You were one of the hottest doctors she has ever seen in her life and she has seen them a lot. You looked so young to be a doctor, she couldn´t even guess your age. You were wearing a white coat with white pants, and around your neck was hanging a stethoscope. These were things she caught before her eyes made it to your face. Your eyes, softly looking at her, and your small smile that was greeting her eyes. In those white clothes, she almost felt like you were an angel.
„Good just slowly breathe in and out... There´s no need to rush.“ Tara kept looking at you shamelessly, not caring about how it may look, you were hot. She didn´t even notice that her breathing calmed down and now she was just sitting there looking at you.
„See! It´s already over.“ You smiled even wider at her, still kneeling in front of her looking up at her face looking for any change. Thankfully, Tara was now absolutely fine and it didn´t look like she would have an attack anytime soon. „Have you ever had an asthma attack before?“
„Yeah, this wasn´t the first time... I´ve been having it since I was a kid.“ She let out, almost whispering her answer as if she was embarrassed by it. „But this was the first time it went this far, usually the inhaler is enough.“
„Well sometimes attacks like this get triggered by situations the body is put into or thoughts, or it can come from nowhere... the symptoms of asthma are often nonspecific and can be precipitated by other disease processes... but based on your mimic and what the girl was yelling in the hallway I knew.“ You winked at her and stood up to go to your table.
„Asthma is a chronic inflammatory disorder arising from not fully understood heterogenic gene-environment interactions-“ 
Tara stopped to listen to you somewhere in the middle. She kept nodding her head as if she understood everything you were talking about. She didn´t understand one word that came out of your pretty lips.
„-features variable airway obstruction and bronchial hyperresponsiveness-“ God you were so hot when you talked like this. You looked too intelligent using all the medicine words that she could only dream about understanding.
„I gave you bronchodilators... it helps airways, or bronchi in the lungs to open and relax more.“ Tara kept looking at you from head to toe, you were tall and your body build was like a Greek god even under the doctor´s coat. You sat behind your desk and started looking for something, when you found it you smiled at her and went back by her side. 
The way you talked with your body language so confidently was sexy and she was trying so hard not to drool because of you. It got her thinking how old are you, you looked young to be a doctor, or maybe your genes were just good.
„Here... when it gets harder for you to breathe take this.“ You gave her an inhaler, she looked at your hand. Was there something about you that wasn´t attractive? Your hand was much bigger than hers and she could just imagine how her small hand would feel in yours. Tara slowly took it from your hand, making sure that she touched your smooth skin. „I know you have a lot of these at home but this one is a bit stronger.“
You smiled at her still keeping eye contact with your patient, looking for any sign of discomfort. „So I think you are ready to leave.“
Tara didn´t want to leave, she just wanted to look at you even if that meant you wouldn´t talk or pay attention to her, she could just stare at you and how you doing your work. A soft knock was heard on the door and a nurse came in. „Hey we are already done, can you please call the other girl inside?“ you asked her and she immediately went out to call Sam.
Sam rushed in, wide scared eyes looking for her sister. „Tara! Oh God... I was so scared.“ She hugged her, putting her chin on her head, pulling her away to kiss her on the forehead, her hands still on Tara´s side of her face. „Please don´t even scare me like that...“
You watched the whole interaction with a small smile visible on your face. Sam turned to you and thanked you for taking care of her younger sister.
„You don´t have to thank me... it´s my job.“
Sam helped Tara to get on her legs, slowly pulling her up, and holding her afraid that her legs would be too weak. You opened the door for them and they slowly walked outside of your room to the hallway.
„I´m so sorry for our receptionist this shouldn't be like this, I´ll take care of that, you can rely.“ You smiled at Sam and then Tara, winking at her again. The girl blushed at your action and looked down. Why was she so nervous around you? Her heart was beating and her body just wanted to reach out for yours.
„Take care! Hopefully, we won´t see each other under these circumstances again!“ you laughed and slowly started walking away down the hallway of the hospital. Tara now was looking at your back till she felt Sam´s arm tighten around her to hold her better.
She was now sitting in a car, looking out of the window, she wanted to see you again, so badly. She didn´t even know your name! Her mind was submerged by your face and your body, the way you smiled at her and talked to her, you were paying attention to her, and that made her so special. Being around you felt so different, like a fresh air in her life, even when she was with you only a couple of seconds.
When Mindy and Chad found out what happened they came to the Carpenter´s house. Everyone stayed by Tara´s side the whole day, talking, joking around, laughing, watching movies... and Tara still couldn´t stop thinking about her hot doctor.
„You are more quiet than usual, care to share?“ Mindy sits beside her on the couch looking at Tara. The girl only let out a sigh and looked back at her friend.
„Mindy... that doctor... was so hot.“ She threw her head back and closed her eyes. Mindy laughed at her and punched her thigh slightly.
„Don´t tell me you have a crush on some old fart.“
Tara turned her head to her lowering her eyebrows at her as she shook her head. „She wasn´t old, she looked really young! Almost our age!“
Mindy looked confused at her, most of the doctors were old, or at least around forty. Either you looked young or you were a young medic. They wanted to find you somewhere on social media but Tara didn´t even know your first name, so they went to the official page of the hospital and started looking at the personnel working there but they didn´t find anything.
Until they came across the photo of the all hospital workers, doctors, and nurses smiling at the camera. There was you, besides the nurse that was with you today and some other doctor, wide smile across your face.
„Damn! You are right she looks hot!“ Mindy moved her eyebrows up and down in a teasing motion, zooming the photo at you. „You got lucky Tara...“ she whispered looking at the photo. Tara snatched the phone from her hands and held it by her side in a protective way.
„I found her first! Find your doctor!“ Tara yelled at her friend but she only put her hands up.
„No need to be defensive, I won´t take her away from you.“
„You better.“ Tara mumbled, looking at her phone again, making a small pout with her lower lip. You caught her attention instantly, everything about you was mesmerizing. Tara only hoped that you would meet again. She was thinking about all the ways how to end up in the hospital... in your doctor´s bed. Or maybe even your own.
„Well getting treatment from a young doctor is definitely a jackpot.“ Mindy commented and laughed at her friend. „And even HOT doctor! That sounds like a big bonus to me.“
Yeah, Tara liked the bonus much better.
746 notes · View notes
nicxl333 · 8 months
Note
hello
Could you write about bllk boy accidentally hurting their s/o badly.
It's okay if you're too busy. No pressure
BABY YOU SOLD ME A DREAM
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characters: isagi yoichi, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, barou shouei, itoshi rin
content: major angst, reader is female coded (wears a dress, heels and makeup), mentions of smut in barou’s part but nothing actually happens (lol), vulgar language
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☆彡 ISAGI YOICHI
“you think you know better than me? do me a favour and go find someone else who has the time to put up with your bullshit. ‘cause it won’t be me.”
you lay in your cold, desolate bed for the umpteenth time this week alone, which, considering it was only wednesday showed just how often isagi trained past late hours. as much as you understood his passion to climb to the top, it was simply neglect at this point. to you and to himself. you woke up, he was gone. you went to sleep, he wasn’t beside you.
of course, things were never like this in the beginning. he used to be around, take you out, nurture you and show you devoted love for you each and every time.
until he wasn’t.
once his team reached the quarterfinals of the champions league a while back, he changed. 2 hour training sessions in the evening turned into 4, and the time he spent with you halved as a result. it made you feel lonely and simply put, abandoned.
your texts querying his location and when he was coming home lay unanswered and unopened, probably within the confinement of his phone which lay in his bag during training. so you went to bed alone like you always did, missing what your relationship used to be.
as you stared at the pristine, bare white ceiling you heard a key in the lock of the front door. a few moments passed and the door pushed open, pads of feet resounding in the apartment.
you decided to go meet him in the living room, wanting to know if he’s at least okay.
as you entered the room, you were met with his figure, donned in black sweatpants paired with a black compression shirt. his normal post-training gear. the same gear that never failed to make you melt each and every time. he glanced at you in your nightwear and weary expression, due to him returning back so late.
“hey ‘ichi, how was training?”
“alright.”
you immediately frowned. outside the pitch he was never so curt and void of language. especially with you.
you ventured closer towards him, trying to debunk his guarded persona.
“are you sure? did anything happen to you?” you stepped closer still, till you were right in front of him, immediately noticing his dark circles, even in the dim lighting of the living room from the hallway light. you attempted to give him a hug, shrinking back in disappointment once he shrugged you off.
“i said it was alright. i’m fine, just go back to bed, i’ll join in a bit.”
bullshit. you knew full and well he would just retire to the sofa, watching playbacks of his games to further evaluate his performance. even when he wasn’t working physically he would somehow manage to work himself further mentally.
“yoichi. what’s wrong baby?”
“y/n, i won’t repeat myself again. go to bed.”
you stood there in disbelief. as far as you were concerned, you hadn’t done anything wrong, so it’s quite unbelievable that he would take whatever happened today out on you.
“isagi,” you made sure to use his last name to make aware you weren’t fucking around. “come correct with me please. i haven’t done anything to you and i’m concerned for your well-being. you’ve been going to sleep late, training until ungodly hours. this isn’t good for you and i’m now on the receiving end of your misery, god knows why.”
the tone in the room shifted, isagi, now displaying a scowl across his features at your rebuttal. yes, he was well aware he was maltreating himself, but to have you acknowledge his moment of weakness gave him an displeasing itch of anger that no one could scratch, not even you.
before he could think, the next words that flew out of his mouth changed the status of your relationship, whether he meant to or not.
“you think you know better than me? do me a favour and go find someone else who has the time to put up with your bullshit. ‘cause it won’t be me.”
you instantaneously drew back, his words punching you in the gut and twisting your insides. your heart leapt and fell, never expecting those words, out of isagi’s mouth of all people.
it was deathly silent for a moment, both parties having a staring match. you fought back tears, trying so damn hard to not allow him to see how his words affected you. alas, your emotions got the best of you.
you lightly sniffled, before balling your hands into fists. “you know what yoichi? fuck you, i’m done.”
you turned on your heel and made a beeline towards your shared bedroom, grabbing your biggest duffel and shoving clothes into them, not minding what it was that you picked up. only once isagi was the only individual in the living room did he snap out of his state, realising the weight of his words. he listened to the loud shuffling, registering that he may have just fucked his relationship over for good.
he swiftly followed you, watching you in a frenzy, having just changed into an outfit suitable enough for outside. it was then that he grasped you were serious, and slipped into full panic mode.
“y/n! y/n please baby, i didn’t mean any of that! don’t leave me.” he reached for your arm, falling apart, the same way you did moments before, when you pulled away from his touch. you knew if you succumbed to his pleas you might— might just stay. but you couldn’t. his words resonated within you and made you accept that fact that you needed space at the most, before your relationship delved into something irreparable.
you stood, duffel bag slung on your shoulder, tears running down each cheek, until they conjoined at your chin.
“isagi, i can’t. not right now. not when emotions are running this high. i need space. we should probably talk when we’re both calmed down. i’ll be at meguru’s house so you don’t need to worry about where i am.”
he respected your wishes, he had no choice. if he wanted this relationship to survive he had to.
so he let you go.
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☆彡 MIKAGE REO
“you’re very much subpar, do you think i need to keep you around? my name alone will help find me someone better than you.”
one thing about mikage reo that really ticked you off was his obsession over his best friend, nagi. simply put,
he was always there.
when you were chilling together, when you went out, even after date nights he would come to your shared condo, playing video games with your boyfriend until god knows what time in the morning. it always felt like you had to share and fight for reo’s attention, which was pretty much a losing battle considering reo gave nagi as much of his attention to nagi as he did.
you did your best to not voice your concerns to him, withholding your true feelings, that you did. but sometimes there’s just moments where you can’t help but snap.
and that moment came at your first year anniversary dinner with reo. hell, you should’ve called it your first year anniversary dinner with yourself, considering the fucker didn’t even show up.
you had dolled yourself up so nicely, a sexy silk black dress (purchased with your own money, you didn’t like to depend on reo too much) with matching heels. your makeup was done flawlessly and not a hair out of place.
you sat at an expensive table at an expensive restaurant, sipping over-expensive wine while you waited for him to show up. you hadn’t seen him since this morning, due to him training all day today, but you had planned this dinner with him together a month ago, reservations and all, with reminders here and there about the upcoming date.
you had waited for about an hour, taking into consideration that there could be traffic, although you hadn’t experienced any on the way here, thus giving him the benefit of the doubt.
however, when no signs showed of him arriving you turned to a waiter and excused yourself, paying the bill and walking out to collect your car from the valet.
once it was brought to you and you were seated, ready to drive off, the first thing you did was call reo via the bluetooth feature, beyond pissed off.
after a few rings he picked up, the sounds of video game gunfire audible in the background.
“y/n? what’s up? where are you?”
you scoffed incredulously, ignoring the city lights whizzing past you as you drove on the highway.
“what’s up? where am i? reo, do you know what day it is today?”
“no, why?”
you gripped the leather of your steering wheel, your frustration hitting a boiling point. “you cannot be serious. does our one year anniversary ring any bells, huh? the fact that i’ve reminded you, time and time again? you stood me up reo! what could you have possibly been doing that was more important than remembering a big milestone in our relationship?!”
he didn’t even have to answer for you, because the answer came in the form of a “reo, why did you stop? our team just lost.”
nagi seishiro.
if you weren’t angry before, you were absolutely livid now.
“reo, so you mean to tell me that spending time with your friend was more important than remembering your one year anniversary with your girlfriend? do i mean nothing to you?”
“y/n it’s not that deep, we can just reschedule for tomorrow or something.” you could hear his exasperation through the phone. the audacity of him, considering he was completely at fault here.
“not that deep? not that deep?! you let me sit there for over an hour in an upscale restaurant by myself and didn’t even think to worry about where i was! why is it not getting through to you that you missed our anniversary to play games? you see nagi everyday, whether it’s at training or at home. you mean to tell me that you couldn’t bear to not see him for one singular day out of the week?”
there were probably a ton of possibilities and explanations for why he said what he said next, but if you had to choose, it would probably be the fact that nagi could most likely hear the argument over the phone, which lead reo to attempt to regain control over the situation, by any means possible, to not appear weak.
“you’re very much subpar, do you think i need to keep you around? my name alone will help find me someone better than you.”
oh. you see how it is.
his words stunned you into silence, knocking the wind out of you. the only sounds that could be heard was the continuous tapping from reo’s controller and the low hum of your engine as you drove.
“look y/n i’m busy now, so we can talk later when you’re ho-”
you didn’t wanna hear what else he had to say, hanging up the call via the steering wheel and letting out a deep breath you didn’t realise you were holding.
without fail you indicated to turn off the highway, making your way to the nearest hotel. nevermind the fact that you didn’t have any clothes, you simply couldn’t handle seeing reo after the way he just wounded you.
once at the hotel and settled in your room you lay swaddled in the crisp white blankets. without any external eyes being able to see your state you let all walls crumble, tears cascading down in waves as you let all the previous bottled emotions fly free.
unbeknownst to you, your phone lay on the side table, softly vibrating whilst the screen lit up to show a picture of you and reo at a theme park, a call coming though from him.
it lay unanswered.
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☆彡 NAGI SEISHIRO
“being in a relationship is a hassle already, i shouldn’t have to deal with you bitching and whining on top of that.”
you awoke to the sounds of rapid gunfire emanating from the living room, sighing to yourself. once again, nagi was devoting himself to a night of endless gaming.
it was a never-ending cycle. when he wasn't gaming, he was training and vice versa. as much as you loved and embraced the fact that nagi was lazy, he could at least make some effort to give you attention every once in a while.
rubbing the sleep away from your eyes you trudged your way through the apartment wearily, before being met with his figure, hunched on the sofa, eyes glued to the screen in front of him.
"sei, when are you coming to bed? i miss you."
"in a bit y/n."
"sei baby you said that last night, and i came back to you passed out on the sofa. the bluelight isn't good for you, especially so late."
he barely was around as it is, but when he was, he either slept, or was parked on the sofa.
it made you feel unappreciated, and majorly unloved. he never made the effort to take you out, tell you that you ever looked pretty or even acknowledge you anymore. to you at this point he was practically a roommate with a shoddy title that really shouldn't apply to the both of you.
"y/n, just leave me alone for now. i'm too tired to get into it with you."
"so you're too tired to argue with me being concerned for your wellbeing, but not too tired to invest your time into games, which ultimately drains your thought processes more? really sei?"
he was still focusing on the tv instead of your words, which ticked you off. so, determined to get his full attention, for once, you walked towards the tv and stood directly in front of it, blocking his vision, arms crossed and frowning.
"what the hell y/n? you made me lose."
"seishiro, can you stop being an ass for just a second and focus on me and what i have to say?”
faced with no way out, he had to oblige, placing the controller down with a heavy sigh, letting you know he was agitated. you couldn’t give a flying fuck though. you’d had enough of being neglected by nagi, and weren’t going to let him off this time.
“you don’t spend time with me anymore. you never take me out, we don’t ever talk to each other anymore. is it so bad for me to want to spend time with my boyfriend? is a game really more important than me? or is being with me detrimental to you in some way?”
he rolled his eyes, sinking back into the soft material of the sofa, irises piercing into yours. you shrunk back at his change in demeanour.
“being in a relationship is a hassle already, i shouldn’t have to deal with you bitching and whining on top of that.”
huh?
“nagi, where is this coming from? what do you mean being in a relationship is a hassl- i’m a hassle?”
he shrugged while rising to his feet, placing a hand behind his head and massaging his neck.
“i said what i said didn’t i? look, i’m going to bed, happy now? i don’t wanna argue with you, you’re too loud when you’re angry.”
you stood in shock, registering his words fully before swallowing and deeply inhaling.
“forget it nagi, i’m leaving. lose my number.”
“leaving to go where?” he watched as you briskly walked to the bedroom, following you in as you changed, grabbing your phone and keys.
“that’s none of your concern anymore. i’m breaking up with you.”
he said nothing as you walked to the front door, leaving with a final slam.
he should’ve stopped you, he really should’ve, for he would come to realise soon enough that allowing you to go,
would be one of the worst decisions he ever made.
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☆彡 BAROU SHOUEI
“oi, i didn’t get into a relationship with you just so you can make my life harder. fix up or leave.”
when you asked barou out, you knew damn well what you were signing up for. considering he was so headstrong, particularly when it came to football, there would be moments where he might be nonchalant or absent.
what you didn’t anticipate, would be just how bad he would get.
once his mind was focused on football, specifically climbing his way to the top, there were no distractions, especially from his girlfriend, who at times he deemed his biggest distraction.
you did try to help and aid him every way you could, cooking him meals to eat after late night practices, tending to his injuries he may obtain after over-intensive sessions, cleaning up the apartment flawlessly so he wouldn’t be tempted to do it himself. all you really wanted in return was love.
surely that wasn’t too much to ask for, right?
wrong.
even after 7 months of dating, public outings with attempts to hold his hand resulted in subtle swatting away, instead opting to walk side by side. laying in bed together? don’t expect any cuddles from him. quite laughable actually that you’d ever think he’d be willing to do that. don’t think movie nights will be any different either. you’d better be keeping your hands to yourself.
fucking was a rarity, only really when he was very much pent up with frustration from football, libido overflowing from lack of release. and even then, while you were able to cum, that’s pretty much all there was to it. no making love or anything like that. he wouldn’t display his emotions to you enough in the first place for that to ever happen.
when you asked barou out, you knew damn well what you were signing up for. but you didn’t know it would be this hard. you figured he would loosen up eventually, getting used to at least some form of affection towards you. a little peck on the lips, or a hug from behind every once in a while would be nice.
one day, you simply grew tired. you were sitting on the dining table with him, having just finished dinner. barou stood up, ready to leave the table to shower.
“shouei.”
he stopped in his tracks, pivoting on one heel to turn and face you. his face remained blank, save for his usual signature eyebrow, arched in waiting.
“hm?”
“i-” you suddenly grew self conscious, afraid to voice your concerns to him. if you wanted things to change however, this conversation had to happen sooner rather than later.
“can we do more stuff together?”
his face now contorted into utter confusion, genuinely puzzled by what you were trying to say.
“what do you mean? i do enough with you do i not?”
“no, not that that sho’, i mean more couples stuff. like…couldn’t you just be more affectionate? i just— i don’t know how you feel about me at certain points, you don’t tell me anything as it is.”
he looked at you, playing with your hands, trying to look anywhere but him, clearly uncomfortable about this conversation.
“cmon y/n, you know how it goes already, i’m not into shit like that. i may like you and all, but all that lovey-dovey stuff? that ain’t me. never has and never will be. surely you should understand how i feel about you? the fact that i’ve kept you around this long should say more than enough.”
damn. fucking cold. either way, you weren’t backing down. you stood there, holding a firm staring competition with him before opening your mouth to speak.
“shouei, it’s been 7 months and news flash! it doesn’t. when you do shit like this, it makes me feel fucking inadequate. like i’m not deserving of you. long story short, you make me feel like shit. i’m tired of it sho’.”
“y/n, regardless of how you feel, i told you how i feel, and that ain’t gonna change.”
you couldn’t accept what he was telling you, believing that what you were saying weren’t getting through to his thick skull. his stance was too relaxed for your liking, arms simply crossed over the other, looking slightly bored.
“you’re not getting it shouei!” you raised your voice slightly, not quite shouting, but about two thirds of the way there. “you’re not understan-”
“oi, i didn’t get into a relationship with you just so you can make my life harder. fix up or leave.”
you halted, making sure you heard him correctly. to hear that he basically wouldn’t fight for 7 months worth of memories and time with each other left you in denial that it would be so easy for him to let go.
“excuse me?”
“did i stutter? fix up, or leave. two choices, one answer. it’s up to you but whatever you pick is your business.”
he gave you an out, an out from what you were currently going through. and as much as you did love and care for barou, you’d be a fool not to take it. things would only get worse.
you chose the latter, opting to leave, considering how little value your relationship held to barou. weeks passed, and the items you once held in the apartment decreased, leaving a half completed house, just like your heart.
he continued as normal at first, trying to get used to the newfound ‘freedom’. but as days passed on, the emptiness of the household became more apparent. the meals you used to cook were no more, barou having to take on the tasks himself. his injuries were taken care of in a subpar manner. while he could do it adequately, they weren’t bandaged or plastered as well as you used to do it. yes he would clean, but having it done already when he came back from training and to his standard…made him start to realise just how much you really did for him.
and maybe— maybe you weren’t so bad to have around. you did give him a sense of comfort that he could not achieve on his own, filling him on things that happened during your day gave him a sense of normalcy which alternately gave him that balance from his meticulous life as a quickly rising footballer.
he missed you, he missed what you had,
it’s a pity he realised only when it was too late.
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☆彡 ITOSHI RIN
“honestly i don’t understand why i got with you in the first place. you’re so lukewarm it hurts.”
you were both busy. you both knew and understood that. rin was constantly abroad on travels for football and you had your own stuff going on at work, often leaving the office late at night.
when your schedules would occasionally match up and you’d both be home, most of the time it would still be you alone. rin would go off on his own to his usual training ground and work himself to the bone. he wouldn’t even tell you he was leaving, disregarding your worries or concerns that may surface.
you jolted awake randomly, looking to your left to see disturbed duvet covers, but an empty side. yet again. next you turned to your phone, squinting at the light from the screen which temporarily blinded you.
2:34am
you could take a guess or two at where rin was. specifically because you knew he lost his last match abroad and was pissed off about it, meaning double the training he usually did. you threw on some clothes, splashed water on your face and grabbed your car keys to drive to the open football field.
the massive stadium style lights lit up the field, illuminating it in a cool white, as you pulled up next to rin’s car. even from the car park you could hear the discernible sounds of rin’s foot booting a ball repeatedly. once closer, you could see him in his normal training gear, sweating profusely, enough to fill a small bucket.
“rin!”
he stopped, just short of making the next ball his victim, making eye contact with you, not expecting to see you there of all places this late.
he waited until you had crossed the distance between you, and stood in front of him to speak.
“y/n, why are you out here this early? i thought you were sleeping.”
“rin, i should be asking you that. it’s too early to be this active my love. come home please, i’m worried for you.”
all was silent for a moment, the only audible sounds on the pitch being a crow cawing in the distance, and rin’s heavy breathing.
“…i’m fine. just go back home. it’s too early for you to be up.”
you stood, hand on hip, showing your determination to get him to give up, not taking no for an answer.
“rin, you need to sleep. you’re overworking yourself. what happens when you’re fatigued and you leave yourself open for mistakes to happen? it’ll be worse for you in the long run.”
“tch, i wouldn’t expect someone who does office work all day to know the inner workings of an athlete. you don’t understand y/n.”
you sighed exasperatingly at his attempts to disarm you. he could be so stubborn when it was really for his own good.
“rin, i don’t need to be an athlete to understand that this isn’t good for you. anyone with two working brain cells can understand that constant working out and lack of sleep isn’t healthy.”
he rolled his eyes and turned back to the football in front of him.
“fine. whether or not you leave isn’t my problem, but i’m not leaving. stay or go, the outcome is the same either way.”
he took position, aiming and shooting flawlessly at the top left corner of the goal, the ball spinning against the net before falling to the ground.
he grabbed another ball, ready to complete the same procedure before you interrupted him once more.
“rin, just please come home, you can come back tomorrow. just because you lost your match doesn’t mean you should overwork yourself like this.”
this time when he turned back towards you, the tone had shifted. his face immediately darkened, eyes thinning into dark slits, eyebrows forming a crease on his forehead. his teal eyes shot daggers into yours.
“listen. we may be together, but that doesn’t mean you get to talk to me like you know what i’m going through. i’m going to be the best football player out there, and if i need to work double to make that happen, then so. be. it. i don’t need someone like you telling me about what i should or should not be doing.”
you stood in silence, effectively stunned and insulted simultaneously. you couldn’t say anything to counter yourself, rin’s harsh words opening up a side to him you’ve never seen before. that wasn’t the worst of it though.
“honestly i don’t understand why i got with you in the first place. you’re so lukewarm it hurts.”
your heart shattered, face hung in desolation and disheartenment.
after not hearing you argue back for a while he scoffed, walking to the side to collect his training bag. “whatever, i’m leaving now.”
he left you there, standing while the gears turned in your head to make some semblance of his words.
you didn’t even register you were crying until the cold nipped at your cheeks, decreasing the temperature of the liquid against your face. you pulled yourself together, just about enough to shakily make your way back to your car and press the ignition button.
you spent the whole car ride crying your eyes out, before wiping your eyes as you arrived back home. rin’s car was nowhere to be seen.
you walked up to the front door, slotting your key in and twisting your wrist to align with the lock.
pushing the door open, you stepped in to see the lights off and the aura dark.
“rin?”
silence.
“rin, are you there?”
nothing.
you sighed, tossing your keys on the table next to the door, making a beeline to your shared bedroom. it was empty, no signs of life present.
you stripped out of your outside clothes and slipped under the covers,
leaving you to cry yourself to sleep, wondering when it all went wrong.
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baby you sold me a dream pt.2
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luv-gin · 9 months
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you’re stopped from completing your task by a young boy with dark hair and wide glassy eyes desperately seeking your attention as he taps on your arm repeatedly.
“miss,” he calls, panic evident in the tone of his voice as he addresses you “can you please help me and my sister?”
you crouch before the boy as you place a soft smile on your face to ease his worry “sure thing kiddo, what’s the problem?”
“there’s this weird guy in glasses who keeps trying to take me and my sister away for ice cream,” his lip wobbles slightly as he continues “my parents told me to not go away with strange adults, please help us.”
now worry quickly fills you and your head turns to see if you can locate a manager near by but you remain calm as you take his hand in yours “can you show me where your sister is? i’ll make sure to keep you safe and find your parents, okay?”
the boy tears up and nods only to point at the guy with white hair adorning glasses and laughing along with a younger girl as they hop around on a trampoline, you turn to the kid clutching your hand and ask him “you’re sure you don’t know this guy?” he cries in response and you panic slightly, patting his shoulders before clearing your throat.
“excuse me sir, i’m going to have to ask you leave.”
the guy turns out to be similar in age to yourself and your expression morphs into one of disgust as you think about how vile he must be trying to leave with some children.
"huh?" he voices his confusion as he stops jumping and peers down at you with the little boy clutching onto your hand "what's wrong megumi?"
the boy whimpers as he stands behind you and you instinctively extend your arms to cover him as you glare at the white haired man who's approaching you "sir, i am asking you to leave before i'm forced to call the cops." you grit your teeth and gojo's expression falls and the young girl he was accompanying joins your little group.
"megumi!" she gasps and places her hands on her hips "you can't keep doing this." she scolds with a finger wagging at the boy who's stepped out from behind you, tears long gone and donning a deadpan expression.
"i was close, tsumiki." he pouts and the girl in turn grabs his cheeks in a pinch and you look at the two kids in confusion before feeling a tap on your shoulder and you look up to see the not harasser-harasser smiling down at you.
"hi, sorry about the scare, i'm their guardian and the kiddo loves playing pranks like that." he apologises with a carefree expression and your face slacks.
"you're their guardian?? aren't you my age??" you ask and he laughs merrily as he waves his hand.
"don't worry your pretty little head about it, it's a long story." just as your neck begins to heat up you're poked once more by the kids and watch as tsumiki forces her younger brother to apologise for bothering you and spreading false information about his legal guardian who is putting a lot of effort and time into raising them- you doubt those words were truly coming from either of the kids.
"it's fine," you sigh and crouch in front of megumi one more time "just maybe think of pranking him another way like putting dye in his shampoo or something like that instead of potentially needing to have someone bail him out of jail."
"oh, that's actually happened once before-" the "adult" adds in with a snicker and you shake your head.
"good luck." you tap the kids on their shoulders.
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RATING THE SINNER'S ROOMS ON HOW INHOSPITABLE TO LIFE THEY ARE
DON QUIXOTE - 6/10 IT'S DOWNRIGHT OKAY IN HERE
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Don is the only sinner who knows what "decorating" is. She's got a carpet or mat of some kind so sleeping here would not be absolutely dismal. And they let her keep her fixer figurines which is nice.
HONG LU - 5.5/10 MONEY CAN BE EXCHANGED FOR GOODS AND SERVICES
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Having so much gold and treasure chests everywhere probably makes it a bit hard to move around the room. But at least his chair looks comfortable.
SINCLAIR - 5/10 CHAIR
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Nice of them to give him a chair to Shinji pose in. Sucks that the chair will give him back pain at the tender age of 20.
MEURSAULT - 4/10 PAGE 77 LINES 12-15 ALBERT CAMUS' THE STRANGER (EN TRANSLATION BY MATTHEW WARD)
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"There were others worse off than me. Anyway, it was one of Maman's ideas and she often repeated it, that after a while you could get used to anything."
FAUST - 3.5/10 INTJ ROOM
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Well she was given a plain white tile room originally but she had to go and be an INTJ about it and now there's formulas on the wall.
YI SANG - 3/10 GLASS ON THE FLOOR
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Similar to Faust, Yi Sang was given nothing but a white tiled room. But he got glass on the floor so it adds an element of danger. We are now entering the "Rooms with potential for bodily harm, be it illness or injury" zone.
RODYA - 2/10 A BIT CHILLY
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No matter how cute your fur-trimmed pajamas are, they will not save you from frostbite. Sorry about your neighbors also. Mind the blood.
GREGOR - 1.5/10 TETANUS
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While I understand the symbolism of him feeling like just another weapon of war, abandoned when the smoke war ended, there are just a lot of chances to get tetanus here. Not a good place to sleep.
HEATHCLIFF - 1/10 AND IS CATHERINE EARNSHAW IN THE ROOM WITH US NOW?
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Not only does he have a roommate who's been festering for god knows how long, but due to being British he's discovered a way to make it rain INSIDE! He will be joining Rodya in the hypothermia club if he tries to sleep in these conditions.
RYOSHU - 0.5/10 FIRE SAFETY
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Sorry about your daughter. We put a bunch of candles in a wooden room for you. You don't like the candles because they remind you of how your daughter died? Okay sorry. The room will catch fire any second now so you shouldn't have to worry about it.
OUTIS - 0/10 TETANUS, TRENCHFOOT, AND OTHER AILMENTS.
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Not to be outdone by Heathcliff and Gregor, Outis has combined the worst of tetanus risks and dead bodies wrapped in barbed wire. Then turned it up orders of magnitude larger. It'll probably take her at least 10 years, experiencing many perils and losing all of her crewmates in the process, to return home. Sucks that they couldn't at least give her a chair in the meantime.
ISHMAEL - WATER/10
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WATER.
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.⋆。You And Him。⋆.
Aaron Hotchner x plus size reader
Calls from Jack were precious so Hotch was more than okay with you answering them
Warnings: fluff, thoughts on the future
WC: 579
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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There was a certain order of events that always transpired on the jet ride home after a case was done; A round of teas and coffees would be brewed by Rossi (who claimed no one knew how to do it properly), Derek would don a pair of headphones that should have been thrown out years ago and play obnoxiously loud music, JJ would take a much-deserved nap, Emily had a habit of reading cheesy romance novels while Spencer played chess against himself. And Hotch called home.
Hearing his boy’s voice or even just his breathing while he slept, calmed his anxiety down to almost nothing. It soothed him more than he could ever say out loud.
A smile pulled at his lips as Aaron’s phone lit up with his former sister-in-law’s name. He didn’t even bother glancing around the cabin to check if anyone was watching as he answered the call.
“Hey buddy.” The typical heavy breathing of a child filled his ears before there was a soft hiccup.
“Hi dad.” Hotch’s brow scrunched in concern and pressed the device closer to his skin, as if he could impart some comfort onto his son through the screen.
“What’s wrong?” Across the table from him, your eyes snapped up from your report, your attention now solely focused on him.
“Is um, is Y/N there?” Immediately, Aaron sagged into the airplane seat, his smile returning tenfold. Your relationship was fresh, still filled with the anxiety and excitement of firsts as you explored each other. You were infinitely nervous when he had finally introduced you to Jack as his girlfriend and not just the colleague you had been before.
But just like he knew you would, you and his son were thick as thieves and evidently, that carried over into when you were away for work. “Yeah buddy, she’s sitting right in front of me.” Your breath hitched and he knew that heat was now crawling up your neck. 
“Can I talk to her? Please?” His heart melted at Jack’s sincere plea. He would never deny his son, especially not when it came to this. 
“Of course.” Your head was tilted in confusion until Aaron pulled the phone from his ear and held it to you. “It’s for you.” 
Your beaming smile lit up the whole cabin as you practically snatched the device from his hand, cradling it to your ear as if you were holding a baby bird. “Jack?”
Aaron couldn’t hear his response over the roar of the airplane’s engine but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because as soon as you sunk back into your seat, your eyes sparkling with love, he became lost in his fantasies.
He could see you clear as day, standing in front of him in a white dress, glowing in that way you did when you were overwhelmingly happy. Jack would be between you, both as your man of honour and his best man, unable to choose which side he wanted to stand on. Maybe there would even be another little Hotchner in the crowd with your eyes and Aaron’s dimples. 
Possibly even two of them, or three. 
Your quiet giggles made his heart skip a beat and Aaron thought that he didn’t mind if you took all his calls from Jack on the way home if it meant that he could hear your voice, unburdened by the depravity of the job.
He wondered if it was too early to start shopping for rings.
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