#got a spicy set in the works too stay tuned
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HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN + SIENNA MILLER - FACTORY GIRL [2006]
#there’s not enough factory girl/Billy Quinn gifs so I took matters into my own hands#got a spicy set in the works too stay tuned#haydenchristensenedit#hayden christensen#sienna miller#factory girl#edie sedgwick#Billy Quinn#don’t call him Bob Dylan#hayden kisses#spicy#fireside sexytimes#my gifs#not sw
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Part 7 for @wrecked-fuse ‘s pocketverse 🧁
~ Part 6 ~
~ on ao3 ~
• • •
Billy had his assignment, and getting the smaller Billy’s head measurement was the easy part. He had to use a strip of paper to mark the circumference of the large noggin’ on the little body, and then measure that before he went to the most expensive store for tiny clothing.
“Okay, chipmunk. I’ll see you at the music store.”
“Bwing the hat!”
“They might have to make it if it’s not available,” Billy warned on his way out of the video store.
Big Steve sighed heavily, inducing Robin to scrutinize him. “Are you afraid of the doll store?”
“Only the woman who runs it. Can we close already? I’m ready to be a person again.”
“Music Stowre!” little Steve shouted with his hands in the air. Big Steve set their finished shoebox room on the counter and waved them in.
“Get inside, you two, and hold on tight.”
Billy charged through the cardboard flaps they’d cut like doors and pushed the button on the battery pack shoved under his bed. The little fairy lights around the room bloomed with warm light as they landed on their beds, ready for their ride.
Robin carefully tied shoelaces over both of them like seatbelts while Steve closed up the back of the store. She carried their precious cargo as he moved the register money bag to the safe and turned the lights off. With the front door finally locked, Steve heaved a breath of relief and ripped his vest off. “Okay, let’s go.”
Little Steve and Billy sang movie tunes on the way to the record shop. Robin couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she held them on her lap and said to big Steve, “Getting Billy to go to the doll store is a test, isn’t it?”
Steve shrugged. “B wants a hat. It’ll be nice for someone else to use a credit card for a change. If I can get Hopper to buy anything, he’s getting a list.”
However, he felt Robin’s gaze on him and peeked at her before admitting, “Yeah, Billy Hargrove, lifeguard extraordinaire, in a doll store sounds hilarious. Sue me.”
“What’s wife gward?” small Billy exclaimed.
“He’s not a wife guard,” Robin sassed, rocking from the nudge Steve gave her. She rerouted, “Billy works at the Rec Center, little man. So he teaches exercise classes, swimming lessons, and makes sure people stay safe in the indoor and outdoor pools.”
“Biwwy’s a knight?” small Steve exclaimed in wonder.
Robin’s eyes narrowed as the car turned into a new parking lot. “I don’t know if that’s the right word for it, but it is technically his job to protect people.”
“Wow,” he breathed. “Big Biwwy, is so cool! But who keeps Biwwy safe?”
Robin and big Steve exchanged a loaded silence as he turned the car off. The latter reassured, “Billy can take care of himself while he’s gone. Are you ready to hear some music?”
“Hell yeah!” Billy declared.
Reggae played over the main speakers of the store, and an underlying aroma of marijuana wafted up from the carpets. Steve and Robin understood without saying anything that they needed an empty nook of the store. Robin set the box on a shelf between cassette and vinyl racks. She looked at the tape left in the player and set it aside before giving the shoelaces a tug to free the little ones. “You need to stay in there, okay? It’s too easy to get lost in here.”
Steve appeared and held up two small LP’s. “Do you want a little spicy or a little soul?”
“Spicy!” Billy demanded.
Robin placed the headset on the box as if the shoebox were a head, and Steve got the record player going. “You Spin Me Around” by Dead or Alive started up and Robin’s nose wrinkled.
“You’re going to give them a heart attack. Soul, soul, soul...” She started switching the LP’s, only to corner, “Steve, Boney M. is disco.”
“It’s groovy,” he smiled over a rolling shoulder. He put the other record back and set the needle down on the right song.
As music began to trickle over the shoebox bedroom, little Steve began to sway his hips. “Gwoovy,” he said experimentally.
Steve and Robin place the other headsets on their heads, the latter nodding along as Steve shamelessly danced in the store. “Let it out, lil dude. Let the music wiggle through you.”
Little Steve smiled shyly as he looked at Billy sitting on his bed and kicking his feet. “Gwoovy, Biwwy!”
Robin laughed, “Can you imagine how many complaints we’ll get if we play this at work?”
“Yeah, from Keith, if he ever bothers to actually come into work. Everyone else will thank us. How long until the GM realizes Keith is at the community college instead of Family Video?”
“Depends on when I need a raise,” she finished, letting more of her body move to the music.
Steve laughed and watched his smaller self coax Billy off the bed and do little hops and wiggles to the music. Robin encouraged, “Woo! Shake that wittle butt, Billy Boy. You’re rocking it.”
They both laughed as Billy did just that, bending his knees and throwing his butt back and forth while little Steve clapped his hands to the music.
A deeper voice warned, “Don’t throw your back out.”
The little ones gasped at big Billy joining them with his own box under his arm. Flicking the lid open, he withdrew something and twirled a familiar hat over his finger. “How about a summer jacket instead of that winter one? It’s not in season yet.”
Little Billy jumped up and down. “My hat! Will it fit? Gimme!”
Steve marveled, “They had a whole Indiana Jones doll?”
“I’ll mail you my fees,” Billy retorted, and shoved the box against Steve’s chest. Steve held it while Billy disrobed the doll and passed down the thinner jacket. Next came the hat -
“Don’t show him that,” Steve warned quietly when he gripped Billy’s hand inside the box.
Billy held his gaze a moment before he assured, “Relax, Harrington. It’s not a real whip. It’s just a string.”
“I don’t care. A bird will take these guys away if we’re not careful. B tries to belly flop off my bedside dresser every morning. Don’t let him see it.”
Billy’s brows reached for his hairline as he removed his hand from Steve’s grasp, holding it up defensively. “Your call, daddy Harrington.”
Robin pointed a mild grimace over Steve’s shoulder. Billy didn’t draw attention to it and instead looked down at little Billy putting the hat on smaller Steve’s head. “Stevie! We need a miwwor in here.”
Little Steve giggled and looked up at them, holding the wide-brimmed fedora on his head. “How do I wook?”
“Like a million bucks,” Steve congratulated.
Little Billy blushed. “Gwoovy.”
The corner of larger Billy’s mouth crooked up.
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Happy Anniversary!
Synopsis: It's yours and Malcolm's wedding anniversary. How will it go?
A/n: yayyy, a fic! Slightly spicy, very sweet. Thank you to all my readers. This man deserves a soft evening. I know, you know, we all know. Sorry for all my delays.
Why did it have to be a Wednesday? You wondered with a pout as you checked the calendar for the week. Smack dab in the middle of the week! To be completely fair, it was a leap year. And you chose a quiet Sunday afternoon to marry on.
Just, of all days to have your anniversary on? And during this political climate? Really was taking the romance out of it.
Not that you particularly cared past wanting a quiet weekend to come later, but the state of things? Really…
But he deserved a nice evening when he got home. That much was true. That much remained in your mind. Couldn’t you be a good wife and give your husband that?
You rolled your neck as you ventured out to the shops. The cracks and pops, intensely satisfying. It was raining and you could feel it in your bones that it was bound to get heavier as the day dragged on.
You filled up your tote bag and shuffled off.
You were right about the rain. It had only been around thirty minutes and it had gone from a light drizzle to a respectable torrential downpour. You felt yourself muffle a small scream into your jacket’s collar as you buttoned up the final snap before exiting the shop.
It was already afternoon and you decided to text Malcolm a general estimate on how long he thought he might have to stay in Number 10, all things considered.
He didn’t respond until you were already home and stewing in your lack on planning.
‘probs around 8, at best. if after 10 check with Sam. most liekly arrested for killing Mannion. xoxo -m’
You nodded and shut off your phone’s screen after a simple ‘ah.’
You picked up a book and grabbed a packet of crisps to help you while away your time until it was respectable to start dinner and make yourself a treat for his sore eyes. Some damp thriller novel about an autistic scientist who helped the FBI solve crimes. There was a TV based on it. The man from Buffy was in it.
After a few chapters, you looked at the clock on the TV cabinet mantelpiece. It read 19h04. Slamming the book shut, you went to your bathroom and slathered some full body skin-softening mask on and plucked a few errant hairs in your brows before making your way to the kitchen to cook.
Dinner was cooking, you had successfully popped the box-mix cake in the oven.
Time to work on you.
You thought about greeting him in that basic black bra and knickers set that he loved. The one that wasn’t fancy, just made you look phenomenal.
That might be a little too much, so you placed a simple dress, black with some floral print on it. Nothing fancy. You did the bare minimum of make up, just a little something to brighten up your eyes and accent your lips. Yet again, no fanfare. Just simple, attractive. More than a tad sexy.
You just put your hair into a scrunchie and let a few strands frame your face some.
By the time you arrived back in the kitchen it was a few minutes past eight-thirty. No sign of Malcolm yet. You placed everything on warm and set the table up with the flowers you grabbed from the shop and sighed as you clicked on the CD player and fussed about your choice of tunes…
Being a wife to someone already married to their job was exhausting. At least you didn’t really have to work much anymore. He made sure of that.
Not even five minutes later you started to hear him screaming into the phone up your steps. You knew it was showtime.
Hurriedly, you turned down some lights and went to light a few candles.
You quickly grabbed the sparkling fruit drink and poured a glass for him and made your way to the chair that faced the door. You perched yourself on its arm.
“Oh, next time you fucking think about fucking thinking- don’t! You hairless, feckless twat!” You heard him bellow as you also heard the receiver click off. Of course it was on speaker…
You knew that you had two minutes of him fuming and transitioning on the entrance so he didn’t take out his work on you. Not that you couldn’t follow him, tit-for-tat on a good day. It was just a mercy.
The keys popped into the door and he came in, dropping his work bag to the ground and sighing heavily.
“Hey, what’s all this, sweetheart? It’s dark!” He gave you a quick little laugh. The exhaustion from today lay heavily around his eyes. His face trying to smile, despite the previous conversation he had clearly had.
You placed the glass on the entrance table and removed his coat and blazer. You tossed both rather unceremoniously onto the ground and slid the glass in.
“Happy Anniversary?” You said in a tone that wasn’t quite sure of itself…
“Oh, yeah. I thought we were celebrating weekend?” His tone rang almost in reflection to yours.
“Now, what’s the fun in that? Today’s the real day!” You scoffed as you rolled your eyes back into your skull. “Let’s redo that whole entrance. You come in, I give you a drink. I take your coat…I’m wearing a low cut dress, dinners on the table…” You flourished your hand out for him to take advantage your hips punctuated the points just given.
“You didn’t have to do anything, just being here is enough.”
“This is for me.” You said as you leaned in to kiss his lips before he could say anything. “It is my wedding anniversary, you know?”
Malcolm shook his head and sighed. It was a half-second before he let himself be dragged to the table.
You plated very carefully as you put on a show with the candles and twirled the cacio e pepe into a shape that resembled a bird's nest. The green salad was already in tiny bowls next to the plates.
“Artsy. Posh.” He remarked.
“Yeah, keep that delusion up for dessert.” You said as you glanced at the sub-par cake with the word ‘Anniversary’ in writing-icing and an uneven coating of frosting on the other side of the kitchen area. You weren’t close to opening your own bakery any time soon.
You sat down at the table and leaned forward. Just enough for him to see that you were wearing his favorite bra of yours.
“So, I feel like an idiot, but here’s to us.” You offered in toast.
He clicked you glass in toast. His face, clearly incredulous but pleased and indulgent.
Dinner was fine. You listened to him bitch and moan about work, offering a sympathetic ear. That Reeder boy was up to something, you both could feel it. Maybe next time your presence was needed at some event, you’d try to worm your way in and get some insight for your husband.
Why not? You’re very pretty and Malcolm said your smile was both unnerving and disarming. Espionage…
You really were becoming a politician’s wife.
When your dinner portion of the evening was over, you grabbed the cake.
He laughed at your scrawl. “Nigella has nothing on you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” You humbly replied as you pulled your scrunchie a tad bit tighter against your scalp. You also let out laugh.
“So, do you have any more plans?” He probed.
You got out of your chair and straddled his lap. You kissed Malcolm’s forehead as you pulled the fabric of your dress up and positioned yourself directly over his cock.
“Now, that’s up to you, darling.” You smiled and brushed your hands over his temples and rested your fingers intertwined on the back of his skull.
“Oh, maybe. I’m so tired, but hmmn.��� He began to ponder it.
You switched gears and slid off his lap and onto your knees.
“I can do a bit of this. Take a load off.” You pawed at his belt and the front of his slacks.
“Yeah, that does sound good.” He groaned in anticipation. “I’ll eat you out until you can’t walk Saturday, yeah? Full fucking wheelchair…” He offered in trade.
“I’ll take that trade.” You smiled and offered your hand to seal the deal.
He took it and shook, then leaned back.
You unbuckled his belt and he helped you slide down his boxers and slacks. He was already stiffening with the prospect of head, as well as probably the sight of you on your knees, all slightly-dolled up and eager to please.
Once he was properly situated, you took one of your hands and placed it on his shaft and started slowly motioning up and down. You leaned down and licked your lips before getting ready to open your mouth and play with his head. You looked up through your lashes and saw his eyes shutter close. He looked a tad bit more relaxed as you went further down his length with your mouth.
You removed the hand keeping you steady and cupped his nuts and stroked them some as you took the hand formerly stroking and put it on the ground.
Keep yourself from losing balance with his dick in your mouth. You could see him relaxing and letting you control the entire situation.
You kept up, succinctly and teasing and licking until he started to buck into the chair.
He was close, so you sectioned you tongue to against the wall of your throat and enclosed yourself all the way down to the base of him…
He came quickly, and you decided to not mess up anything that you had, so you just swallowed and dealt with the taste. You’d grab a tiny extra bite of cake or two.
No big deal!
“There’s a little love.” He mumbled out, looking completely drained, a sleepy smile crawling from ear to ear. “So good, don’t know how I got this lucky.” He said as he stroked your hair with one hand and pet your chin with the other. “Such a little sweetheart…” He tapped the edge of your chin.
You blushed furiously.
After a while, your little party moved to the sofa, you ended up stripping out of the party dress and fancy underwear, opting for a large sweater and a pair of sweatpants. Your husband followed suit and donned his usual fleece and a pair of sweats you swore he stole from you…
You both laid horizontally pressed deep against each other and your socks rubbing together.
Malcolm tossed over a blanket and rested his leg over yours as some program on BBC Two droned on. He tucked your hair behind your neck and rested his chin on the curve of your shoulder and neck.
“I would have been fine with chips and this.” He admitted. “Being married to you is treats enough for me.”
“Now you tell me.” You joked as your eyes glazed over, fixated on the telly.
The rain picked up even harder outside, sharper even still.
#personal#the thick of it#ttoi#in the loop#itl#malcolm tucker#peter capaldi#malcoln tucker x reader#reader x Malcolm tucker#self insert#i wrote this#yayyyy#shamless self indulgence
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Brute Grail Front Review #1
today on Fate and Phantasms we've got a special treat for y'all. since this event doesn't have any boosted servants, we're instead going to take a look at each grail front's roster, assess how well they work as a team (in D&D), and which servants I'd suggest taking to counter them. cool? cool.
The Enemy:
now I'm not including caesar himself in any of these since he's not really a "fighter", so our first lineup includes Robin Hood, Nero Claudius, Okada Izou, and Sakamoto Ryouma/Oryou. the first thing that jumps out at me about this party is simple- it's super unbalanced. three of the four servants are rogues, meaning they aren't the toughest bunch around, but they hurt when they hit.
the obvious synergy here is how Ryouma and Izou can team up to completely read an opponent in a minute, learning most, if not all, of their relevant stats and weaknesses. then it's just a matter of trapmaster Robin setting up traps to prey on said weakness. while Nero doesn't quite fit into this setup, she's actually the most dangerous one on the field, and not just because she's a level 20 caster with level 9 spells. okay that's mostly the reason, but hear me out.
Foresight is a very dangerous spell to be fighting against. on Nero it's not great for us, since anyone forcing disadvantage on all attacks against them and getting advantage on their saves and check and attacks is always bad, but remember- she's in a party with three rogues. if those rogues have Foresight, they have permanent advantage, meaning permanent sneak attack. that's terrifying, especially since that rogue will still be harder to hit thanks to the one spell.
Who to Bring?
first and foremost, we need someone who can take out the rogues' gallery fast, before they can sneak attack our team to death. rogues as a rule are tough to hit with regular attacks and anything with a dexterity save, but they do have one weakness- constitution saves. rogues don't get proficiency in those, and they're usually squishy besides, so the cold is one of the few things that can really bother them. that's why my suggestion for the caster slot of this grail front is Anastasia.
she comes packing with plenty of constitution-based spells to bring the hurt, as well as defense-piercing attacks to cut through whatever nonsense Nero conjures up. the one flaw here is she's not a tank. we need someone who can take those sneak attacks on her behalf, as well as shut down whichever rogue's been foresighted. there's plenty of berserkers who are physical tanks, but that latter part is pretty rare to come by, and since we already have one 5-star I'd like to keep the other servants on a budget.
with all that in mind, my pick for berserker is none other than Spartacus.
the man's got an obscene health pool, can rage to cut down on sneak attack damage, and specializes in taking one person out of the fight so his party can deal with the others. with him pinning down the foresighted rogue we've basically forced Nero to waste a ninth level spell, on top of whatever she uses to try and pry Sparty off her teammate.
finally, we need to end this fight in a timely fashion- we only get ten turns to finish this, after all. what we need is a roamer, someone who's fast enough to chase down stragglers and tough enough to fight a rogue or bard one-on-one. that's why my pick for lancer is Cu Chulainn.
he's fast, he's tough, he's so accurate even rogues have trouble avoiding his spear, and his Diamond Soul means he's unlikely to be swayed by Nero's tricks.
Now we've got a spicy grail war brewing! of course this is just talking about D&D- we were able to solo this fight with just Spartacus, so don't stress too hard about who you're taking to the front. still, we hope you've enjoyed this, and stay tuned for tomorrow's grail front!
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december gurl
Hello mars,
I had my computer on a pillow for better stability for my eyes but it was kind of uncomfortable. I have been listening to Doja all morning today and even yesterday lol i LOVE Planet Her it is a catchy and boppy album. I hope that my gurl Ari releases some music soon. I have been listening to my MJ playlists again and some of my older 90s early 2000s music bc I like the sound of the instruments in the songs in them. I really like New Jeans too though for current kpop music. I am ready for 2024 to have some new tunes.
Today has been pretty productive in my eyes. I was pretty productive yesterday too. As soon as I got up I got the beans boiled and the chicken was also set. My food yesterday was so good. I love that I am getting better and faster at cooking lol. It really helps grow my confidence. I made red enchiladas with chicken and cheese and the beans and I even made some rice which tasted better than the first batch I made. Just a cooking mama lmao. I also went on a run and went to king soopers for some mailing bags to send beanies for my fam and whatever else i could fit with two hands lol. I got that done today and also returned the pants that were way too long and too small tbh lol. I am glad it was hassle free and plus I had to go mail the other ish so it worked out.
I was able to return the hair dye also hassle free and I got a blue and purple one to dye today. OP I just remembered that today I have to give JP his massage/cupping sesh bc I did not have energy to do it yesterday. I wrote it out so now I really have to do it jeje. Anyway today for food I am thinking of making some stir fried udon noodles with broccoli and carrots and cabbage. Maybe even make it spicy but not everything has to be spicy mars. I still have leftover chicken from yesterday so I was thinking of adding it to the noodles or frying it with some breading but now that I am writing my idea, I do not have any breading....wack. So anyway it will just be chicken pieces in the noodles and then the sushi that I bought yesterday at the king soopers.
December has been pretty good to be honest. I haven't been feeling as home sick and I think it is because I am messaging and talking to my mom more and it helps me feel like they are still just right here close by. We are 12 days in but for some reason I just feel like I have been doing more mentally and physically. We are getting closer to the end of the year and I am still also thinking about the internship in Washington. Should I wait it out?? I really want to travel and go to Asia for my dirty 30. I am turning 30 sheesh that is so crazy and people out here saying I am 23 lmao I lub it.
The prices are pretty average and we have our play money fund so we would only have to worry about flights and airbnb. JP did say the airbnbs were pretty cheap so that makes me excited that we can explore more and maybe even hit two countries. I will start looking at flights more seriously probably after I get home in Feb after going home. I think imma go to IN in Feb/March. I am not sure. My fam seems to always be busy bodies so it can be kind of hard to figure out when to go but I am sure if I just communicate instead of free balling it, it would work out lol.
Okay mars have a great day even though it already it. Do your best in all you do this week and just show up. Stay consistent and what is yours is already yours, it cannot be taken.
deuces ~~~~~
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Monstadt and Liyue boys: You fall asleep on them, and they fall asleep on you. Plus a bonus for some of them!
Diluc, Venti, Kaeya, Albedo, Chongyun, Kazuha, Childe, Aether, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli, Scaramouche
No Warnings
Headcanons, Gender Neutral (They/Them, You/Yours)
A spoiler for We Will Be Reunited in Aether’s second story, but its vague
Diluc
You fall asleep on them
It was a tiring day of commisions and the like, but you wanted to spend at least some time with your boyfriend. He was rambling on and on about his day and other stressful things that you could’t help but doze off. It took him a bit to notice, but when he did, he blushed. He knew the sofa wasn’t the most comfortable and gently carried you to your room, placing you on your bed, tucking you in. As he turned to leave, you clung to sleeve, silently asking him to stay. He gently nodded, and crawled in next to you. You and him both slept better than ever before.
They fall asleep on you
It was basically the reverse, but you couldn’t carry him, and just curled up next to him, drifitng off with his arms wrapped around you. He looked calm, and at peace. He genuinely trusted you. When he woke up, he blushed. He didn’t move until you woke up, and if you did before him he would apologise, face still tinted red. You forgave him, giving him a soft kiss. It was moments like this he adored, just being able to show his soft side. It was also a small gossip among the maids for about two days, but he never found out.
Bonus: PDA opinion
Not a huge fan of PDA, but if someone’s getting too touchy, won’t hesitate to pull you close. And show off his vision. If he’s around Kaeya, like at the tavern, he doesn’t mean to be rude but may slightly ignore your affections, just to spare you both from the teasing. Afterwards, will kiss your forehead and apologise, explaining his reasons. You forgave him, as always. You did understand, Kaeya was a menace at times.
Venti
You fall asleep on them
You were rested in his lap, as he played his Lyre. The tune was so calming, you weren’t particularly tired but drifted off. It took Venti awhile to notice. Only when he asked if you wanted to go for a walk, and you didn’t reply, did he notice. The bard didn’t wish to wake you, and let the lyre vanish into the winds. He let out a soft ‘Ehe~’ before leaning against the tree, and playing with your hair. He did drift off soon, with a comfortable expression.
They fall asleep on you
It was a late night, and you were carrying Venti back from the bar, as he was far too drunk to get home on his own. You got home and changed, your boyfriend laughing and waiting for you. You walked over to him on the bed, before wrapping your arms around his small frame, and pulling him close. You talked for a bit to him, noticing he had fallen asleep when he cuddled closer and his breathing was softer. You gently laughed, kissing his forehead before falling asleep yourself.
Bonus: PDA opinion
Unless you don’t want it, there is a lot of PDA, he just wants everyone to know your his beloved! Will cuddle or hug or kiss you anywhere from on the streets, to the tavern to the middle of the forest. His favourite place to cuddle with you, is of course, Windrise. He loves to rest with you there.
Kaeya
You fall asleep on them
You couldn’t help it! Despite the captain’s cryo vision, he was warm. And comfortable. And..Well, you could go on and on with excuses. It happened when you two were cuddling after a pretty tough day for the both of you. You tried to stay awake, but failed. He noticed quickly, with a chuckle. “Oh? Falling for me yet again..Adorable.” He kissed your forehead, and stayed awake, mainly because he had more work to do. He decided to put you to bed first, not wishing you to be uncomfortable.
They fall asleep on you
Similiar to Venti, you had to walk him home from the tavern. You struggled a bit, as he was somehow more clingy than you expected. You did get home, but not without struggle. “(Name)~” Kaeya whined, as you lead him to your room, letting him stay there. You knew what he wanted, and stayed. You leaned against the headboard, Kaeya clinging to your side. You stroked his hair until he fell asleep. You fell asleep soon as well. He was embarrassed when you mentioned how he acted, but played it off like it was intentional.
Bonus: PDA opinion
Another one for PDA. He’s flirty in public, but will stop or tone it down if you ask, he doesn’t want to make you discomforted, after all. He wouldn’t hesitate to be even more clingy if somebody was bothering you. Kaeya loves you, and will never let you think otherwise.
Albedo
You fall asleep on them
Albedo knew you didn’t understand much about the experiment he was explaining, but was glad you listened to him. “And that’s how...” He trailed off, noticing you were asleep on his shoulder. “I suppose it was a boring topic for them..” He muttered with a smile. He didn’t want to wake you, knowing how important sleep was for you, so he gently pulled you in his lap and wrapped his arms around you. Resting his head on your shoulder, he too fell asleep. His body was warm, a difference to the cold air of Dragonspine, and a nice one. Or, maybe it was just the fire that flickered in the background.
They fall asleep on you
You had begged the Chief Alchemist to take a break, as he had been working for a week straight. Albedo had deniend the need for rest, but the bags under his eyes said otherwise. He eventually gave in and you pat the sofa, with a happy smile. It wasn’t long that you felt a weight against your chest, and saw he was asleep. “I told you so..” You said, rolling your eyes in a loving manner. You stayed awake to make sure he stayed asleep, and he did until the morning, where he thanked you. You could never get his sleeping face out your mind, it was absolutely precious, and it was nice seeing him so at ease.
Chongyun
You fall asleep on them
Chongyun was rambling about some encounter he almost had with a spirit, but you weren’t paying much attention, only listening to the sound of his voice. He noticed when you leaned against his shoulder, eyes shut and breathing soft. He didn’t want to move, despite him beginning to overheat. He tried to gently move you so he could get a popsicle, but when he heard you mumble, he froze. The exorcist didn’t move, at all. He waited until you woke up, which wasn’t pleasent and he didn’t feel the best afterwards. When you noticed, you were quick to apologise and grab him one, coming up with excuses. Chongyun forgave you, he couldn’t stay mad (not that he was), at you anyway.
They fall asleep on you
Xingqiu had pranked him with a far too spicy dish and you were thankfully there, able to quickly get the situation under control and help your boyfriend. You both went back to your place, as it was getting late. You were talking, and before you knew it he was passed out agaisnt you. You couldn’t blame him, it was rather stressful earlier and he was burnt out. You gently kissed his forehead before carrying him to your room and laying down next to him. When he woke up, he was blushing, but still was calm. It surprised him, a lot.
Kazuha
You fall asleep on them
Beidou has agreed to let you come with on the next voyage they went on, and so you were pretty happy. It was a few nights in, and you and Kazuha were talking. You were leaned against him, and he had an arm around you. It was late, and it was to be expected but you drifted off to the sound of his voice, the ocean crashimg against the boat and the wind. Kazuha noticed instantly, and smiled. Beidou walked onto the deck, about to say something when he gave a small wave, asking her to be quiet. She nodded, deciding it could wait and left you two alone again.
They fall asleep on you
You hadn’t joined them this time, waiting for your beloved instead. When he got back, you were both quick to leave and talk elsewhere, which was your home. You rambled about what had happened in the mean time, while he listened. After falling asleep, he looked even more peaceful. You were happy to rest with him, knowing it wouldn’t be too long before you both would leave again.
Childe
You fall asleep on them
The harbinger had gotten some free time, and was spending it dragging you through the harbour. It was a rather long day, and you were exhausted by the time you got home. You sat on the couch, with your beloved. You were talking for awhile before the exhaustion kicked in and you dropped against his shoulder. Tartaglia didn’t expect this, and shot up, assuming you were trying to attack him, (for some reason, maybe to keep him on guard.) That was not the case, and you were thrown to the floor because of physics, and hit it, harshly. He was embarrassed to say the least, and in your moment of exhausted anger, you did smack his shoulder. He found it fair. Childe was forgiven, but only because he let you sleep in his lap instead.
They fall asleep on you
Childe returned home after a long day of training new recruits. He curled up in bed next to you. You spoke for awhile, until exhaustion set in for him, and he fell asleep. You considered pettily waking him up, like he’d done to you, but when you saw his peaceful and loving expression, you couldn’t. You kissed his cheek before falling asleep as well. His arms wrapped more around you in your shared slumber, and he was grateful when he woke that you’d let him rest. He still felt bad about the other day, and was trying to make it up to you.
Aether
You fall asleep on them
Aether had invited you to the teapot, and you were in his room. Paimon was there too, but she was eating something in the kitchen area, leaving you two alone for now. It was awhile later that you had grown tired, and Aether had as well. He opened his arms and let you cuddle close. This was all fine and dandy until Paimon entered the room. “Aether! We’re out of sticky honey roast!!!” She mentioned, practically yelling. You let out a tired and confused mumble, being awoken by the yelling. Aether gently hushed you, and covered your ears. “Paimon, if you don’t shut up right now..I will tell Xianling to turn you into emergency food. That is a threat.” He said, his tone tired but harsh. Paimon squeaked and quickly left. You were both undisturbed for the rest of the night.
They fall asleep on you
Aether entered your home, and he seemed distraught. He explained everything that happened with his sister, and sobbed into your arms. You were worried, and let him cry it out. You noticed Paimon was no-where to be seem and assumed he’d asked to be alone. It took awhile, but his breathing slowed and he’d..well he’d cried himself to sleep. You were just glad he was mostly uninjured, gently stroked his hair, hoping to keeo him asleep. It worked, as he slept throught the night fully.
Xiao
You fall asleep on them
You had spent the day at the balcony of Wangshu Inn, waiting for you adepti boyfriend. It had been a slow day, but you hadn’t slept much and were tired. This didn’t stop you from offering a bright smile as your beloved appeared. You both talked about what things you’d seen recently, and as always he was a bit shy. You wished you could’ve told him that you were tired, but you didn’t want to waste what time you had with Xiao. It was well into the evening when you felt your tiredness kick in, and you fell asleep, against him. It surprised the Adeptus, and before either of you knew it, he vanished. You woke up instantly, and looked around for him. You sighed with a bit of disappointment, you wanted to apologise, and weren’t sure how.
They fall asleep on you
It was days later he made an appearance again, you rushed over to him, apologising on repeat. Xiao softly hushed you, guilt in his eyes. He’d spoken to Verr Goldet, and she’d told him the best course of action. He’d let you hold him, and both of you eventually drifted off, he apologised again in the morning. You’d already forgiven him. Plus, the fact he’d let you get so close and even hold him in his sleep was proof he trusted you.
Xingqiu
You fall asleep on them
It was an agreed date, you could rest and he would read. Plus, you’d be in each other’s company, which was great for the both of you. Xingqiu let you rest against him as he read, encouraging you to get the sleep you needed. You were a bit suspicious, assuming this would be some prank, but trusted him anyway. That proved to be a mistake, as when you awoke and walked back, you recieved odd looks. You didn’t understand until you got to your mirror, and saw the small doodles he’d drawn on your face. You were embarrassed, heavily. You swore to get your revenge.
They fall asleep on you
Xingqiu entered your home, it was a long day for him. All he really wanted was just to cuddle you and go to bed. You offered a sweet smile, scooching over and letting him lay next to you. After he fell asleep, you wondered on your revenge. It seemed fate had other plans as you fell asleep as well. When he woke up first, he’d expected you to have gotten some form of revenge, but noticing nothing had changed, he did feel a bit bad. When you awoke, he apologised and promised to let you rest normally next time. And when that time came, he kept his word. He didn’t want to upset you too badly, after all he was always big on chivalry.
Zhongli
You fall asleep on them
Zhongli spoke of more stories, history and the like, you normally loved listening to him and were always interested, but you’d stayed up a bit too late and were tired. You sat on his lap, as he told another one of the things that had happened in his long life. He noticed you fell asleep when your usual questions never came. He chuckled softly, kissing your forehead. He carried you to bed, and tucked you in. The archon though for a moment, before deciding to join you.
They fall asleep on you
The atmosphere was relaxed, and Zhongli wrapped his arms around you. You smiled, leaning against his chest. He rested his head on top of yours, and shuts his eyes. He didn’t mean to fall asleep, but he did. You didn’t mind, and let the archon rest. If anything, you were glad to be getting so much rest with him, something told you that others weren’t so lucky.
Scaramouche
You fall asleep on them.
It was rare moments you were able to rest with the harbinger, but you never took them for granted. You would clear your schedule when he was free, knowing Scaramouche was a busy person. The one thing you couldn’t change was your energy levels, and you were exhausted. The past week you’d done nothing but work, and rarely slept. But when he notified you he was free, you rushed over. You’d managed to hide your sleepiness so far, knowing how against physical affection he was. But your eyes grew heavy, and you dropped against him. He froze up for a moment, before shoving you off. He hadn’t even registered you were exhausted nor that you had fallen asleep. You blinked, staring at him befofe muttering a small apology and that you had to go, not wanting to bother him. He realised he messed up, and hoped to be able to let you forgive him.
They fall asleep on you
It was another time you were both thankfully free, and he had asked to meet at your place. You had nervously agreed. Upon entering, the first thing he did was apologise, which was a surprise in itself. Then after the small bit you talked, you noticed he seemed tired. He had mentioned he wanted to make it up to you...You moved closer, which confused the harbinger, before you wrapped your arms around him. He was about to protest, before you reminded him of what he had said. He nodded, with a sigh...but he had to admit, he was comfortable..and maybe this wasn’t so bad. His eyes eventually closed, and he had guessed you would shove him off like he’d done to you..but all you did was offer a smile, holding your boyfriend closer, before falling asleep yourself.
#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#wholesome#x reader#scaramouche x reader#aether x reader#diluc x reader#venti x reader#kazuha x reader#zhongli x reader#kaeya x reader
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“I hit you with my car and was the only one to visit you in the hospital” AU Prompt for Wangxian, if you like?
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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When Wei Ying woke up, he had to blink a few times to adjust his vision to the bright glare of the lights overhead, momentarily blinding him. Something was weird. This definitely wasn’t his own bedroom, whose lighting was rather dim and most definitely off when he was sleeping.
He blinked a few times more and then turned his head to examine the room he was in.
It took him far too long to understand what he was seeing, but once his brain actually started processing it, there was no doubt. He was in a hospital room, complete with barren walls and the strong smell of disinfectant. But he had no memory that could explain why he would be waking up in a hospital bed. In fact, now that he thought about it, he had no idea what he’d been doing before he’d woken up here, or even what day of the week it was.
Impatient to have his questions answered, he tried to wriggle around and slip out of bed, but his body felt oppressively heavy, and his vision started to swim as soon as he lifted his head off the pillow.
Exhausted and distressed, he fell back into bed. What the hell had happened to him? Why was he feeling so terrible?
Just that moment, the door of the hospital room opened, and a nurse stepped in.
“Oh, you are awake,” she said. “Good.”
She moved up to the bed and started to check his vitals – or harass him, Wei Ying couldn’t really tell which one it was. She was probably around fifty and had a distinct aunt-y vibe that made Wei Ying lay still on danger of getting stabbed with a needle.
“Do you know why you’re here?” she asked, after she had apparently determined that he was conscious and held it together enough for conversation.
“No,” Wei Ying croaked, and immediately started coughing. His throat felt terribly dry.
The nurse went to his bedside table, where a cup and a pitcher of water had been placed, and filled the cup for him. Then she made him drink.
“You’ve been in a traffic accident,” she told him without ceremony. “You got hit by a car and had to be brought here in an ambulance.”
Shit. Could that be true?
He didn’t remember any of that.
“I don’t remember,” he told the nurse.
“Honey, it’s probably better if you don’t,” she said, patting him on the arm absent-mindedly. “That’s your brain protecting you. You’re also on painkillers right now,” here, she pointed at one of the drips that went into his arm, “and they tend to make your brain a little foggy. You only need to focus on getting better right now.”
That wasn’t particularly comforting to Wei Ying. He’d been lying here, doing–
“My work!” he suddenly remembered.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that!” the nurse said, shaking her head. “I think that nice Mr. Lan has taken care of all that.”
She checked her watch.
“It’s almost time for him to visit, too. Such a nice young man, if only youngsters nowadays were a little more like him.”
She sighed, patted Wei Ying’s arm again, and then left, hopefully to tell someone else that he had gained consciousness again.
Wei Ying sighed and stared at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure what the nurse had meant with “that nice Mr. Lan,” because he didn’t know anyone with the last name Lan. Certainly no one who would visit him at the hospital. Had she gotten his visitor’s name wrong? He tried to think of a different possibility, but couldn’t think of anyone. Wen Ning was away. And Jiang Cheng still wasn’t speaking to him, not to mention that no one in their right mind would ever call Jiang Cheng a ‘nice young man’ if they had spent more than 30 seconds in his presence.
He wasn’t kept in suspense about the identity of his visitor for very long, though. Only minutes after the nurse had left, the door opened again, and through came a man that Wei Ying had never seen in his life. He would have definitely remembered meeting him, Wei Ying was sure, because the man was a devastating combination of tall, handsome and well-dressed. Very memorable. Even in his current drugged-up state.
The man hesitated for one small moment when he saw Wei Ying looking at him, but then continued his progress through the room with a measured pace, finally arriving at Wei Ying’s bedside. He did not speak, but silently placed several items onto Wei Ying’s bedside table. Wei Ying saw a book, what looked to be some healthy snacks, as well as… his phone? It looked terribly beaten up, but a traffic accident might do that to a phone. He should probably be glad if it still worked.
The stranger must have noticed the direction of his gaze, for he finally opened his mouth.
“I have taken the liberty of contacting you place of work.”
“Thank you,” Wei Ying said, sending the stranger an ironic smile. “What I’d rather like to know, though… who are you?”
The stranger bowed slightly, as if to apologise for his rudeness.
“Lan Zhan,” he said. “I was the one… who hit you with my car.”
“Oh, I see,” Wei Ying said, several things suddenly becoming clear to him. “This is a ‘I’m feeling guilty’ visit. Don’t worry about that. It’s fine. I’ll be out of here in no time.”
The stranger, Lan Zan, frowned at Wei Ying’s words.
“It is not guilt that has made me come here,” he said.
Then he was silent again. Wei Ying waited for a moment, but when nothing else happened, he raised his eyebrows at Lan Zhan, encouraging him to go on. Lan Zhan looked as if he’d rather do anything else than open his mouth again, but eventually, thanks to Wei Ying’s pathetic wheedling, he conceded.
“The one responsible for your accident was the driver who suddenly came out of a side street and nearly ran you over,” Lan Zhan explained. “You ended up in front of my car because you were trying to escape his path of collision. He also crashed into my car, nearly hitting you a second time. I have no guilt to speak of, but I am grateful that you survived. I was worried, however, when your family could not be contacted.”
“Oh, uh, well,” Wei Ying stuttered. “Honestly, that shouldn’t be any concern to you. I’ll be fine. My family… well, it doesn’t matter.”
“Your family should care for you if you are injured.”
There was a stubborn set around Lan Zhan’s mouth, and Wei Ying suddenly found himself smiling. He wasn’t sure if he should call it fortune or misfortune, but this Lan Zhan was clearly an incredibly stiff man with very strict notions of propriety, to the point where he involved himself into the affairs of others.
“Ah, Lan-gege,” Wei Ying sighed. “Not to say I’m not very grateful for your help, which I am, but let me assure you that you have officially fulfilled your obligations and are free to leave. You have already done more than I can ask for. If it is as you say, I have no ill feelings towards you. Feel free to go on with your life, and sorry about the car. I think I need to sleep again, I feel very tired.”
He was, in fact, feeling very tired, and it was getting harder to keep his eyes open by the minute.
Lan Zhan seemed to realise that that was the case. He said his goodbyes, but before he left the room, he announced, “I will come again.”
Wei Ying wanted to object, but Lan Zhan was already gone, and Wei Ying’s eyes were closing.
---
The next few days passed in the monotony of sleeping, check-ups by doctors and nurses, terrible hospital meals, and occasional visits from Lan Zhan.
As handsome as he might have been, at first Wei Ying really didn’t want Lan Zhan to come back again. He quickly learned to be grateful for his frequent visits, however. Staying in the hospital was extremely boring, even with the books that Lan Zhan brought him, and everything was much better once he trained Lan Zhan to bring him spicy snacks.
After a few excessively boring days in bed (more than he cared for, certainly), he was finally allowed to walk around a little in order to regain his strength, and Lan Zhan would take him outside into the garden whenever he visited. Wei Ying was extremely grateful for that, since the nurses didn’t allow him to go alone.
Wei Ying quickly learned on their little excursions that Lan Zhan rarely spoke, but was an extremely attentive listener who would prove said attention in the most unexpected moments. It was almost shocking sometimes; Wei Ying would ramble on about something, and Lan Zhan would suddenly say one thing or another that made clear he had been paying attention when most people would have tuned out already. It was… flattering, to say the least. To have someone pay attention to him so much. Definitely something Wei Ying could get used to.
Lan Zhan was also very attentive to Wei Ying’s physical state. More than once, when Wei Ying felt his own strength lagging, he suddenly found Lan Zhan’s hand at his elbow, steadily and unobtrusively making sure that he didn’t fall over his own clumsy feet. Lan Zhan seemed to know that he needed support almost before Wei Ying himself realised it.
Normally, he would complain about being thought a weakling, but if Wei Ying were honest, he would admit that sometimes, he really needed the support. And well… he couldn’t really bring himself to mind being spoiled by a handsome man. If he were really honest, he would confess that he simply liked Lan Zhan’s hands on him, and any excuse that provided him with an opportunity was good enough, even if he had to play up his weakness.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said when they were on one of their garden excursions one day, eating little cups of mango panna cotta that Lan Zhan had brought with him today on a bench. “I will be released tomorrow. You don’t have to visit me here any longer after today.”
“Hn,” Lan Zhan agreed. “What time?”
“Around ten, I think? Why do you ask?”
“I will pick you up.”
Wei Ying sighed deeply and swallowed the last spoonful of dessert.
“Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan. I can ask a friend to pick me up. You shouldn’t do so many things for me. If you are too nice, people will end up misunderstanding. Well, I will end up misunderstanding. You wouldn’t want that to happen, now would you?”
He directed his best salacious grin at Lan Zhan.
“Nn,” Lan Zhan replied noncommittally. “I will pick you up.”
Wei Ying stared at Lan Zhan for a moment. Could it be that Lan Zhan was that thick? That he didn’t realise what Wei Ying was getting at? Did he have to spell it out for Lan Zhan? That he meant misunderstanding in the sense of kissing and possibly getting naked with each other?
“Lan Zhan, I’m serious,” Wei Ying complained, tugging at Lan Zhan’s sleeve to make him look at him properly. “I will misunderstand.”
Lan Zhan looked at him, and it struck Wei Ying again how beautiful Lan Zhan’s eyes were. He had thought that Lan Zhan was pretty much expressionless when they first got to know each other, but that had been patently untrue. His perpetually serious eyes were the source of so much deeply felt emotion. Everything Lan Zhan felt, he felt with his entire heart. So when Lan Zhan looked at him, Wei Ying automatically felt his pulse speed up and his cheeks start to grow hot. That was the effect Lan Zhan had on anyone he really directed his attention towards.
“I will pick you up,” Lan Zhan repeated once again. Stubbornly, insistently. Mulishly.
Without breaking their line of sight even once. Just serious. And steady.
“Oh,” Wei Ying whispered.
Oh. Lan Zhan didn’t want him to misunderstand. Lan Zhan wanted him to understand.
Wei Ying shot up from the bench they had been sitting on and walked over to the trash can close by, to throw away his empty cup of panna cotta. Lan Zhan followed him, throwing his own cup into the trash. As he did it, he looked about as disquieted as Lan Zhan ever did, but right now, Wei Ying was unable to handle anything.
Could he be right? Did Lan Zhan – that Lan Zhan –
As he stood there, he slightly tilted to the side – and there he was, Lan Zhan was right at his side, steadying him. But right now, Wei Ying didn’t want to be steadied. He leaned further into Lan Zhan’s side, putting most of his weight on Lan Zhan right until his head a found a home in the crook of Lan Zhan’s neck.
“Ah, Lan Zhan,” he sighed. “Taking advantage of the weak and injured, I see. Do you always flirt like that? Picking people up at the hospital?”
He looked up at Lan Zhan and smiled.
Lan Zhan didn’t answer, but one of his arms most definitely found its way around Wei Ying’s waist, holding him securely to Lan Zhan’s side. It was… intimate.
It was answer enough.
“This is the part where you’re supposed to say ‘No, Wei Ying is the only one for me,’” Wei Ying pouted.
“Wei Ying is the only one for me,” Lan Zhan intoned seriously.
Wei Ying had to bury his face in his hands and scream a little.
“You can’t say things like that out of the blue!” he complained. “My poor, beaten body won’t be able to take it!”
Then he peeked out between the gaps between his fingers, up at Lan Zhan.
“Say it again.”
(When Lan Zhan picked him up the next day, he received a kiss for his efforts.)
(One kiss, or many.)
(Who was going to count.)
#kuro writes#the untamed#wei wuxian#lan wangji#wangxian#mdzs#mdzs headcanons#well not really#sweat#enter21
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Entertainment Spotlight: Sherry Cola, Good Trouble
You may recognize comedian, actress, and writer Sherry Cola as Alice in Freeform’s Good Trouble. Additional TV credits include jewelry maker Natalie on I Love Dick, special agent Lucy Chen on Claws, and the iconic Lil’ Tasty. On the big screen, she can be seen in the upcoming Endings, Beginnings with Shailene Woodley, Jamie Dornan, and Sebastian Stan, and in the indie Sick Girl with Nina Dobrev and Wendi McLendon-Covey. No stranger to ambition in comedy, Sherry is also a successful stand-up comedian, performing regularly at The Laugh Factory, The Improv, and The Comedy Store. Sherry took a few minutes to chat with us about comedy, Good Trouble, and more. Check it out:
What is your experience of portraying comedy-aspiring first-generation Asian-American Alice? Can you talk about any similarities or differences between you?
I’m grateful to play a character that I never saw on TV when I was growing up. The deeper we get into filming these episodes, the more I realize how much it’s been missing. From speaking Mandarin to her best friend/ex-lover to diving into stand-up as a queer Asian female, Alice’s journey is so specific and overdue. Alice is adorably apologetic and she’s still finding her voice.
I’d say I’m more outspoken than she is, but we’re also similar in people-pleasing to the point of getting us in trouble. I heavily relate to Alice because I also have an immigrant mother who wasn’t well-versed about the LGBTQ+ world at first, but the more we show these stories on the screen, the more we can open minds!
Can you tell us about any funny or wholesome moments on the set of Good Trouble?
The scene in the pool for Malika’s birthday was super fun. It was almost 4 AM, and we’d already been floating in the water for 2 hours. I gotta give it up to our incredible crew for nailing all the messy shots of people jumping/falling in. It was hilarious being in that cloudy, chlorine-less human soup, just splashin’ around like little kids. Our entire cast adores each other so we’re always in good company. It’s a celebration when we have those big group moments.
Do you have a routine before you go up on stage to do stand-up? What is it, and how did you come up with it?
I do lots and lots of breathing because I’m nervous right before I hop on stage, no matter what. I also get very thirsty so I find myself going to the bar last-minute to get water. This happens every single time. I never think ahead and have the water prepared! I look over my jokes to remember which ones I wanna do. Then when I get up there, the throwing-up feeling disappears and I’m on cloud nine!
What is something you wish people knew about being a comedian in the industry as it is today?
Sometimes people take comedians too lightly. We deserve more props! There’s heavy stuff happening behind that microphone. We have the power to educate and touch the audience, in an almost brain-washy fashion, but not in a bad way. I can use jokes to shine a light on something like climate change, and people will walk away with a new perspective. Pretty cool!
If you could give any character on Good Trouble some advice, who would it be and what would you tell them?
This is the first time I’m officially saying this, but I’m team Callie and Gael. Y’all have something special, damn it! The fiery chemistry! It was spicy, but also tender...like a chicken nugget! Please give it another try and make some perfect babies!
Can you tell us a funny joke?
I saw this on a popsicle stick when I was in elementary school, and I’ll never forget it:
Q: What did the girl melon say to the boy melon after he proposed?
A: We’re too young, we cantaloupe!
What advice would you give to your ten-year-old self?
STAY TRUE TO WHO YOU ARE! Things that made me self-conscious back then like non-American food that I’d take to school, or the fact that I never wore make-up, and just the general vibe of being unordinary - now I fully embrace it!
Who do you look up to?
I can’t even count on my fingers/toes/teeth/strands of hair how many people I look up to! From Sandra Oh to Lena Waithe… I have respect for all women of color who are pushing the culture forward. They motivate me to keep going so I can make just as strong of an impact.
Who inspires you?
My mom inspires the hell out of me. She came to this country and busted her ass off to make sure I have a comfortable life. Money means nothing compared to the feeling of making her proud. I get all my work ethic from her, from giving 110% to the importance of being on time, so she gets all the credit!
Can you tell us how Lakers-loving, jersey-wearing, Timberland-rocking Lil’ Tasty came about?
Lil’ Tasty is dear to my heart! She was a viral queen in 2016 because she was a breath of fresh air who said the most darn things. My friends Adam Episcopo and Rick Schaberg started a mockumentary-style series on Facebook called “Luber” which showed the lives of drivers who got rejected from Lyft/Uber. They asked me to create a character and naturally, as a lover of hip-hop, I knew this girl had to come equipped with obnoxious freestyle raps. Then I found an old Kobe jersey in my closet (RIP to the GOAT) and the rest was history. We shot these silly videos on a whim. We never expected to hit millions of views. Since then, Lil’ Tasty has built quite a fanbase, and I still have some things up my sleeve, so stay tuned!
If you could wake up as one of your characters tomorrow, who would it be, and why?
Waking up as Nuocki Mum would be dope. She’s an older Vietnamese lady who tries to keep up with the times. She’s completely oblivious but means well. She hits the nightclubs every weekend to stay young. I wouldn’t mind that!
Thanks for taking the time, Sherry! Check out the Good Trouble Tumblr for more.
Photos: Storm Santos
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Oof, it's been a while. I just haven't had any luck lately. I've been working on a new idea and I like it, but getting the words out of my head has been like pulling teeth! This is something completely different because I needed a break.
Community Garden
Words: 1664
Zelda let out a sigh at the gentle sound of wind chimes. The breeze was light and pleasantly cool in the heat of the Hyrule summer. It was good to get out of the stuffy castle and into nature, however artificial a community garden really was. Little plots were spread out in a wild array of liveliness with greenery springing from most boxes and a notable few browning and wilting. It was safe enough that Impa stayed at the entry gate and Zelda was granted the gift of solitude. Gravel crunched under her feet as she walked down the rows and ducked under a particularly vivacious bush growing spicy peppers. Another gardener was humming an aimless tune from several aisles away and the melody got Zelda whistling along gently.
She came to a stop at her two raised beds strung together with a fine netting material. Her samples of safflina were happily growing in one box where she planned to attempt crossbreeding them to produce a new variation of the plant. The second box was divided in two with sunshrooms taking the northern half and swift violets filling the southern. Zelda slipped on her worn pair of gloves and knelt at her experimental box. She gently picked all the little weeds that had grown since she last tended the garden and swayed in time to her little whistle. It was a beautiful day. She pulled out a small paintbrush and gently began hand-pollinating her safflinas. She kept her journal close and marked down the number of flowers painted with pollen on each plant. With any luck she would get a hybrid variant that could produce elixirs with dual properties. Thus far it has been considered impossible, but no one had tried to cross breed the ingredients. However, it was also possible that she would emerge with an entirely different effect. Pioneering a brand new elixir type would certainly ease the sting of failure on the dual property front.
After the pollination was complete, Zelda turned to her mushrooms. They were thriving happily in their thick compost bed. A stray weed or two were quickly pulled. Soon she would be travelling to the Spring of Power and wading into the frozen waters for a chance at her birthright. She had planted the sunshrooms for these trips and with a sad change to her whistle she pulled two from the rich soil and packed them away for later. It seemed unlikely that she would be successful at the spring, but at least she wouldn't freeze. Her knight had been quite cross (for him) when she had caught cold during their last trip to the spring. She was out of sync now with the happy meandering sound emanating from beyond her little plots, but she couldn't bring herself to match the happy sound.
Last she turned to the violets. There was no purpose to these. She had no need for an elixir to increase her speed. Even under the influence of such a drug she was unlikely to outpace much of anything. Most lizalfos were fast enough to kill her before she even knew to run and the Yiga could teleport. Even her own appointed knight was fast enough that she wouldn't be able to outrun him. Really, Zelda didn't know why she didn't just visit the official royal gardens to see pretty flowers. Professional gardeners took the time to grow violets that were nearly twice the size of her little plant and sculpted to a shape pleasing to the eye. There was something charming about the lopsided way her flowers decided to grow though. They leaned away from the small overhang strung over the mushrooms and only bloomed at the top third where the most light was available. Her mother used to love misshapen flowers. When Zelda was very, very small they used to sneak into the gardener's shed and steal away plants that had been discarded from the main gardens. They would put them in pots and nurse them back to health as best they could from the little balcony off of Zelda's bedroom. The Queen would say that the flowers just needed someone to love them. After she died, Zelda had all the pots removed and set up a prayer mat in their place.
Now, her flowers weren't so illicit and they had never stolen violets so it wasn't the same, but a melancholy tune drifted out of her anyway. Sitting in the fragrance of the violets felt the same as when she and her mother would sit and inspect their contraband in the warm evening summers of her childhood. With a sigh, she made her way over to the water pump with a big watering can and let out an internal sigh when she realized that the happy humming gardener had stopped humming. No doubt she had driven it away with her melancholic response. She plunked her can down at the pump and worked the heavy handle until water was easily flowing into her container and it was as full as she was able to carry.
Zelda straightened from the pump at the sound of footfalls making their way closer and closer. She put on her best Princess-Meeting-Peasant face for the humming gardener.
"Link?!" Zelda said incredulously, "What are you doing here?"
He gave her a wide-eyed look then looked down at himself and back up to her. He was in ragged brown breeches with the start of holes forming around the knees and a threadbare linen shirt that was untied at the top. He looked like nothing so much as a poor farmer. He even had the broad hat that was ubiquitous in the Hyrule Fields. Nothing about him looked like the straight-laced soldier she was familiar with or even like the relaxed Royal Champion he pretended to be for the crowds. He was uniquely bland in these comfortable, worn clothes and intricate, but common woven basket full of vegetables and herbs draped over his arm.
"Harvesting, Your Highness," He said. Link was kind enough not to add "obviously" to his response. He glanced down at her watering can on the ground and stepped close to her. He offered his basket and lifted the watering can easily with his other arm in one fluid motion. The basket was lightweight and had a very comfortable handle which had been worn flat and smooth from long-use. Link must have been gardening here long before he became her knight.
"Which way, Princess?"
She gave him an uncertain smile, but nevertheless led the way back to her little sanctuary. He bore the water to the entry and stepped back out after relieving her of her burden. He stood awkwardly for several moments, observing her careful watering of the recently pollenated safflinas, delicate touch on the life-saving mushrooms, and comparatively haphazard handling of the violets.
"Violets are my favorite," Link said, breaking their silence. "I'm surprised to see you growing them."
"I like them too," Zelda said simply, "They're pretty. Do you keep them as well?"
"Not here, but my mother grows them at my home in Hateno. She has flowers in as many colors as she can get. It's always beautiful. I just grow food." He gestured to the basket on his arm.
"Not enough food in Castle Town for your appetite?" Zelda let a teasing note color her tone and Link blushed scarlet in response.
"Never."
Link smiled a real smile at her. "Why violets instead of silent princesses? They're your favorites aren't they?"
Zelda shook her head, "They're difficult to grow. I just wanted something to enjoy," She paused and cast about for something to prolong the conversation, "Looks like you're preparing for a meal. Got someone special you're cooking for, or are you hoping for a good meal before our next journey forces us back on rations and forage?"
For some reason the question caused him to turn a deeper shade of red than her teasing really called for.
"No, nobody special - I mean, she's special, but it's not - I mean, yes I'm cooking for someone but we're not - I'm not, you know, special to her..." He petered off into an embarrassed sigh and ducked his head into his habitual uncomfortable neck scratch. Zelda gave him a strained smile to let him know that she wasn't going to tease him any further.
"No doubt you will charm your way into your special lady's heart in no time. I have yet to find a woman in Castle Town that isn't at least half in love with you. Once you round out your prospects with a homecooked meal I doubt she will be able to resist. Very few men can boast protection, charm, and domestic skills." Zelda tried to keep the envy out of her tone. She would give anything to have a suitor as accomplished as Link vying for her favor.
"That's kind of you to say," Link said in a self-deprecating tone, "But I'm afraid she wouldn't look twice at me. And even if she did, she's discovered my faults."
"Oh, no," Zelda said with a wicked smile, "You've told her one of your awful puns haven't you!"
"Many."
"For shame, Link! Let me see what you have in that basket. You'll need something special to make up for it!" She leaned forward and dug through the pile of vegetables before finding a few wildberries at the bottom, "Ah, ha! Make the lady a dessert. They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I can assure you that it works on women too." She gives him a saucy wink that seems to shock him.
He tries for nonchalance, but still only managed a stammered "Yes, Princess." Zelda retrieved her own basket of sunshrooms and hooked her hand into the red-faced Link's arm and nearly dragged him out of the garden and back into the real world. Somehow she was back to whistling the happy tune Link had started.
#loz botw#fic#botw#rainworks#zelink#or not I guess#pre-zelink?#kinda sad#soft#i have a part 2 idea but idk if I'm going to write it
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Love
I´ve been so self indulgent during this week, thanks for your patience. I went overboard with this @whumpmasinjuly ´s prompt for day 3, “Love”. (2020)
Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @twistedcaretaker @boxboysandotherwhump @unicornscotty
CW// Slavery, ´pet whumphuman trafficking, referenced conditioning and past dubcon/noncon, trauma survivors navigating relationships and recovery. Slightly Stockholm syndrome affected whumpees.
It was snowing slightly outside the supermarket. Sann had waited outside the house with his brown coat and muted blue sweater, when they came back home from work. Pushed Albus towards the snowy street to buy ingredients for dinner.
It was odd, because they had enough food for Christmas, which would be next week, but he couldn´t say no to Sann. Much less when he looked so happy going outside whenever he could. Stopping a few times to play with the snow. One of those Sann slipped and fell on his butt, making Albus jump to see if he was alright, right after he snorted and broke into laughter.
“I’ll get you some cream for it later yeah?” The freckled boy´s jeans were still a bit wet when they went inside the store. Sann patting it with a pained frown on his face.
“Hey Sann, look” Albus called when they were passing by the clothes isle. The other boy’s hand passing over the clothes like always before he turned. Sann´s face went from interested to a pout, noticing the other was holding anti-slip snow shoes with a shit eating grin. “Could´ve come handy earlier, maybe we should buy them” Sann hit his shoulder as the other snickered.
A few steps away Sann took something from the book isle and trotted back to hand him it with that bratty smile he had.
“Merry Christmas then” Sann signed when Albus pulled his eyes up, away from the “comedy for dummies” book on his hands.
“Ha, you think you´re so funny don´t you?” he said pulling him closer from his coat. “I know how to shush my favorite comedian though” he quickly inhaled before he kissed the corner of his mouth, just a little peck on the lips that left Sann looking for more as he pulled away. Just staring into each other´s eyes for a moment.
Sann gave him another quick kiss before he smiled and grabbed softly Albus´ chin. Shaking it a bit before he stepped away. “You should shush me more often” Sann signed, walking backwards to the cash registers extending his hand. Albus took it without thinking. Bringing it to his lips to give it a swift kiss.
-
On the way back home, it was Sann who laughed at him when he slipped on the icy floor. The little groceries they had bought, flying in the air to land on the snow. Even though, as they were holding hands, Sann fell too.
“We should have bought them!” Albus shouted as the other helped him pick up the things, giggling at the way he patted his own butt.
Walking in a bit of pain, they saw the lights flicker inside the house. Just before Albus turned to Sann shrugging, acting as if he hadn’t gone to the supermarket just to make time. Hiding his smirk from the boy as he opened the door with reddened fingers. Watching how his eyes turned from suspiciousness and wariness to shock.
It was certainly a surprise to give him a party.
He stared in awe at the “1 year” sign hanging from the ceiling with small triangular papers as Sann pushed him inside. Passed his eyes around the faces that had become his world, not a single trace of lies, of hidden intentions behind their smiles. Just genuinely happy about having him there.
Tony and Sasha bathed him in hugs and Jeremy pulled him to sit on the table with delicious food on it. None of it spicy, which he knew was even a bigger gift. As he was the only one there who didn’t love spicy food.
“Hey, I´m the mute one here, say something!” Sann signed next to him.
“I…Just don´t know what to say…Thank you is too plain” his cheeks went red, pulling his eyes back to Zarai. In a silent question, pleading for instructions.
“Don´t look at me, it was Sann´s and Sasha´s idea” The albino looked at the two with not-so-guilty grins on their faces. He suddenly felt a need to jump and hug Sasha and shower Sann in affection. Proud of him for making a party, even if it was small, it had been hard to make him feel comfortable in that setting.
“Well a thank you is more than enough” Claude said putting a cup with mulled wine on his hands, like everyone had in front of their plates. They lifted their cups, waiting for him to join. He pulled it up with just the biggest smile anyone had seen on him “Cheers!”
-
They stayed playing something called “guess” until very late into the night. A simple game where a player had to think of a movie, series or famous person and the others had to ask things like “is it an action movie?” “Animated?” “Are they gay or European?” to get to the answer. Obviously, Sann, Sasha and Albus weren’t really good at it, but it was a fun way to learn about the world they had forgotten. The pain of remembering, kind of soothed by the wine.
To which by the end of the party, Albus couldn’t carry himself to the room and had fell on the sofa telling Tony he was just fine, didn’t understand why he was so worried if he felt so good! Jeremy and Sann bonded over animated films (which were Sann’s favorites) and some math thing used in economics Sann always tried to explain to him but never could quite understand. But whatever concept he could wrap his head around had helped him to land a project with a great commission all by himself. He was really happy Sann had a friend outside of their circle now. How he seemed to enjoy it too leaked on to his own mood.
“Having fun?” Sasha tucked some of his hair behind his ear. He gave her a few nods with shut eyes. A wide smile had been there since the very beginning.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. Maybe even before” he told her in a daze. “Thank you Sasha”
He couldn´t believe it sometimes. How different his life had become since a year ago. If it hadn’t gone this way, he would still be in training, maybe just waking up from an endurance test, or maybe on a cold isolated cage. Hungry, alone, but safely away from other handlers. His body aching, but just desperate enough to be obedient and stay quiet behind the bars.
This honestly felt like a dream he didn’t want to wake up from.
“Your welcome, Al” she smiled at him before pulling him up “You will get used to this after a while. Trust me. It was difficult for me at the beginning too”
“Parties?”
“Freedom” the boy hummed as reply “Alex wasn’t a bad person. Just in need of some help, until they didn’t” she stayed quiet for a second, rubbing her wrist “It was scary to hide it, that someone would call and I would go back even with my papers in order and all, but. I guess, people also helped with that” she said looking at Tony. “Made it easier to trust” Albus knew for a fact they would marry someday. Maybe sometime on May, if Tony finally showed her the ring, so he smiled at the love-struck look on her eyes. “And maybe not forget, but keep going despite everything”
“I hope Sann feels like that someday too”
“And you too, Al. Someday” she said pointing to his neck, where the collar still stood. He let out some air. A heavy sigh, one he didn’t show the real weight of. Putting a vague smile instead.
“If you need help with that, give me a call. I will help you find them”
Albus frowned “Who?”
“The people who helped me. You called me once to ask me about them, but you never brought it up…You don´t remember?” she asked him when he only ket looking at her with a tighter frown.
“When did I do that?” Albus asked, but he never got his answer as his attention quickly sled to the boy walking their way with a large shy smile.
Sann walked to them with a guitar on his hand before he sat in front of him. Other people taking out their phones to catch the moment Sann signed this was his present for him. That he would find a way to get him what they saw at the store, making the albino chuckle, lifting himself up to be sit upright when Sann inhaled deeply and put his hand over the strings.
It was a soft tune, wrapping him in the warm feeling of a rhythm that carried you like a butterfly on the wind. Playfully doing tricks as it went higher. Having a rustic touch to it that made Albus imagine a valley of wheat swaying with a soft breeze. At the middle of it Sann’s fingers moved slower, low tones in quick succession that gained speed, Sann’s fingers moved swiftly down the strings. Squinting his eyes to try smoother down the migraine trying to come for him. Slightly pulling him out of the roll before he finished in a twist, a combination of the butterfly and the low tones that made him think of stone alleys and high windows.
When Sann lifted his eyes to see his reaction, He had to be quick to put the guitar away to receive him on his arms. Clapping and cheering, slightly drowning the messy praise the boy gave him. Mixed with a few curses followed of I love you. Low enough only Sann could hear them.
After a while, he was clinging to Sann on the sofa. His legs over his lap and his arms around his shoulders. Foreheads touching each other. Whispering little things as Sasha and Tony said their goodbyes from the door. Jeremy long gone after a friendly hug and congratulations were given.
Sann wasn’t a light drinker. He was perfectly fine while listening to a drunk and affectionate Albus, with a grin on his face. Nodding whenever the other asked a question. However nonsensical it was.
“You’re so nice, Sann” he said. Face warm and flushed. Eyes glassy like he was about to cry “You with me when you’re so great….” he pressed his forehead against the other. Slightly nuzzling. “I don’t know what I did to have you in my life, but whatever it was, it must have been very good” it became Sann’s turn to get flushed red. He suddenly pulled away and with a very serious face he stared into Sann’s gray eyes. “I love you”
Sann was frozen on his place. But he pulled up his hand, keeping his middle and annular down. Albus didn’t took long to imitate the sign.
It was a bet, but he leaned on. Sann closed his eyes, checking if there wasn’t a voice telling him if it was the right thing to do, and pressing a bit with a little smile when he found none. Soft lips meeting his and pulling apart in a quick inhale. He was surprised, however, when he tried the tip and was met with a bold reply. A hand on his hair and a twist in his mouth. Even then, careful to not let slip his hands to his bare neck. Delicious and at the same time amazing as he knew the person it was coming from. Despite that, it didn’t feel forced, or practiced until mastery. It was messy but engaging, it felt genuine. So when they pulled away with a pop, Sann was wide eyed at the albino.
“Is that a good shush?” He smirked, red eyes glittering under the moonlight.
“Dunno” Sann’s dimples showed on his cheeks “I need a second try” he signed before putting away his glasses. Feeling the boy’s hands pass to his back and pull him closer.
“Sann…” he suddenly went in the middle of the twist. Pulling away “thank you”
“…For what?”
“For everything. For…this” he said putting the same sign he did before. Pulling it down and sinking on the other’s chest “I hope you’re happy forever, however it may be” he said before Sann’s face pulled into a slightly confused frown and lulled him to sleep. Carrying him back to bed after a while.
-
In their room, Zarai slept soundly on his chest. But Claude was troubled. Ever since he had shifted jobs, he couldn’t fall asleep easily. Tonight, it was the celebration stuck on his mind. He remembered the boy’s bloody papers. So he knew the day he had arrived, was the same as his birthday.
That’s why they had made him the surprise party.
But even when Zarai had widened her eyes, even when she had found herself angry she was even more shocked to not tell him. And Claude couldn’t know if it was the right decision or not.
As he woke up with a migraine and looking overall destroyed, letting Sann prepare breakfast for all of them and feeling slightly guilty for taking a pill, but exuding a joy that couldn’t really fit on the doctor’s head. As he saw him thank Zarai for letting him rest, Claude tried to think, to believe it was for the best.
I actually based Sann´s guitar thing on this thing my dad did. You can hear it here.
#writing#whump#bbu#box boy#pet whump#you came back a stranger#tw slavery#tw dehumanization#robert#fluff#sann#albus#trauma survivors navigating relationships#deconditioning#emotional whump#multiple whumpees#mute whumpee#tw human trafficking#recovery whump#tw stockholm syndrome#lima syngrome#amnesia#box boy whump#tw alcohol#zarai#claude#sasha#jeremy that sweet boy lol
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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 18
First time reader click here
TWs/Summary: We stan ✨women in science✨. Bruce uwu. Twitter social media AU nobody asked for. Stephen and Tony are dicks and I'm not talking about their anatomy. Setting up mood for Bruce smut, ngl. PTSD makes things spicy. I'm depressed so please be kind ✌🏻💀🙃
"I really do wonder how can you two fit those egos of yours in your pants," I kept my tone forcefully casual, cheerful even. "Why don't you just fuck already?"
I was met with stunned silence. Suddenly, the room seemed far too large and the people in much too quiet, staring at me with various expressions of horror obvious in their faces. As the strange friendship began developing between me and the team, my "outbursts" - how Steve liked to call them - lessened considerably. I had no need to provoke them into giving me attention, just striking up a casual chat was enough. The Avengers were great conversationalists, to my surprise.
Tony and Stephen, when paired, were the exception. I could count on one hand the amount of times they successfully came to a conclusion without fighting like cats and dogs. It was like each man had made it a personal mission to verbally top the other, more often than not resulting in a thirty-minute shitshow ending with one storming off in a dramatic flourish. It was mind-boggling how two supremely intelligent men could not find a way to communicate efficiently without infuriating the rest of the team.
Plus me. One way or another, I was almost always around. In the beginning, it was hilarious to see the free circus but it got old really quickly when they couldn't decide on dinner or a movie, leaving the rest of us starving and bored. Or the great Cloak debate - that one lasted days and the fussy thing was so upset, it point blank refused to part from Peter for a substantial amount of time. It's pretty fucking creepy that a semi-sentient, ancient piece of outerwear watches you when you sleep - just sayin'. I personally interjected with my own snark and sass whenever Tony and Stephen got too heated, successfully drawing the attention to myself. The fight broke up and I had amazing sex with Tony later, it was a win-win scenario.
Yet, Tony and Stephen didn't stop. To me, their way of "talking" (and I use that term loosely) looked a lot like unresolved sexual tension. Stephen frequently used his greater height to tower over Tony in a childish attempt to establish dominance; the engineer was no rookie and responded with extravagant peacocking such as "subtly" tapping the bracelet that hosted his nanotech suit or parading at dinner in a $30,000 custom made designer outfit. Because Tony could.
I was pleasantly surprised when Natasha started laughing at my remark. Full-blown, belly laugh. Those were rare, coming from the Widow, her usual mirth was quiet, sophisticated, just like her. Deadly (adorable). Bucky followed suit, snorting together with Clint and Loki.
Steve looked none too pleased with me. But then again, was he ever? "Doll, don't be rude."
"Brat," Bruce said at the same time, palming his face.
"People always call me a brat. And guess what, Steve?" I popped my hip, twirling a cotton candy pink coloured Dum-Dum between my fingers. "What can you do about it? Nothing," I shrugged, leaning my head against Bruce's shoulder affectionately.
Steve just shook his head in disappointment. "Can we get back on topic? Please?"
"Captain, I think that Stark..." Strange began talking with Tony dramatically groaning in the background and I instantly tuned out the useless babble. Steve should've been smarter and revoked speaking rights from Tony and Stephen. Or asked Loki to magically render them both mute for ten minutes.
"You're not wrong," Bruce quietly whispered next to my ear. "Ten bucks says Wanda meddles and those two finally work out their frustrations," The scientist hid a grin against my head. I felt the amused, giddy energy radiating off him like a plasma beam.
"I don't even have to bet," I rolled my eyes. "If she doesn't do it, I will."
Both Tony and Stephen were throwing me equally infuriated glances. One promised me a good, hard fucking and the other saw me a short, poisonous lecture on appropriate behaviour in the nearest future - you can guess which is which. If I had it my way, I'd skip the lecture and go straight to a hot, filthy threesome with two men twice my age. I wasn't blind, Strange was hot as hell and could be decent and even nice once in a blue moon.
He could, but he wouldn't be. I wanted that raw, unadulterated lust, tension so concentrated it walked the razor's edge between violent craving and repulsion. Ever since the incident with Clint, I had this ugly mess inside of me, like a live wire about to snap. My brain was constantly racing, darting between how utterly useless I am in a group of supers and embracing my normal-ness, amplifying it by hosting game nights and spending time trying to convince people to start a dungeons and dragons campaign. Or something.
My sleep was like Swiss cheese, riddled with holes where I stayed awake for one or two hours at a time in the middle of the night after waking up sweaty, with my heart hammering out of my chest. Sometimes I dreamt of Clint's lifeless, sickly white body, sometimes the whole room flooded with blood and I couldn't stop it no matter what, there was so much of it, I drowned in it, I startled up with the taste of it in my mouth. Rarely, the worst of it came - the one where Clint was alive as millions of millions of little fluorescent, poisonous jellyfish burst out of him and he screamed and screamed and screamed...
I had PTSD. Yay, me. As if my uselessness wasn't enough of a burden, my brain decided for me that it wasn't good enough that I saved Clint and now it was punishing me for being close to a group of people who routinely saved the WORLD.
I contemplated my usual habits - going to a party, getting trashed and dancing until my legs were numb. I just wanted to shut my brain off for a moment, give it a hard reset so-to-say, but with Tony on my back like a jet-pack, I didn't doubt he'd show up to the place and drag me out of there even if I was kicking and screaming. And he was a Stark, a billionaire, so visiting my dad in Cali wouldn't be possible on my own. Tony would gas up the jet and the rest of the team would find and excuse to tag along, too. As much as I loved being the baby menace who could get away with anything, I hated the way they all herded me, like I was an actual child. I couldn't get away from myself, not even for a moment.
I had the backup-backup plan and I was going to have to execute it. Desperate times, desperate measures. "I don't doubt y'all enjoy listening to Tony and Steph flirt," The nickname escaped unmoderated from my lips before I could catch myself. "But what are we doing for Halloween? I need to know if I gotta get a costume," Bruce chuckled next to me and wrapped an arm around me, happy for the distraction. Unlike me, the scientist was obligated to listen and participate in the avengers-themed discussion. Which was difficult because the engineer and the sorcerer constantly bickered, inadvertently taking over the talk.
"Halloween?" Steve groaned.
"We should do something," Bucky side-eyed his boyfriend. "For the children." Something told me he wasn't thinking of the children, at all. The man was positively leering, probably thinking about what kind of a tight suit he could convince Steve to squeeze into.
"A party!" Tony immediately exclaimed, interrupting Stephen mid-setence.
"Tony, no," Steve stated firmly.
"Tony, YES!" Clint perked up. "A snack bar. A bar-bar."
"I will not be helping you all if you get alcohol poisoning," Stephen crossed his arms.
"So it's a party," I stated firmly, throwing a contemplating look at Wanda and Pietro. The twins looked unsure but excited. I knew I could count on fellow young people to support my decision to have fun, dance a little, drink a little. Let loose. To nail my point, I turned to Bruce with a mischievous smirk. "Fifty bucks says Stephen is too stuck up to show up in costume."
"Beg pardon?!" The sorcerer exclaimed. His eyebrows threatened to meet his hairline.
"I think you give him too little credit, Princess," Bruce winked at me and we solemnly shook hands. It was great having a fellow partner in mischief. Loki's approving smirk just sealed the deal for me.
"It's not my fault you sometimes act like you have a stick up your butt," I gave in the way of explanation, shrugging my shoulders innocently in Stephen's direction. "I'm just pointing out the obvious."
"I don't dare to imagine what's been up yours," The sorcerer retorted dryly, in an uncharacteristically childish fashion, arms still crossed. It almost looked like he was pouting.
"Tony," I simply said, leering salaciously at the man.
"Ooh, kinky," Clint reached over and we promptly high-fived each other in the wake of multiple embarrassed groans emanating around the room. "Strange, you're a boring old man, get over it."
"And you regularly end up in dumpsters, Barton," Strange retorted quickly. "Not my idea of fun."
"You wouldn't know fun if it hit you in the face!" Tony grinned triumphantly, confident in his superiority over Strange. Look at that, the team was doing the work for me and I didn't even have to try.
"I'll show you fun," Stephen retorted darkly. It was obvious the man was planning something.
"Ok, boomer," I raised my eyebrows in muted satisfaction before turning around and grabbing Bruce to drag along with me. "I'm confiscating your best scientist to amuse myself. I am bored. We will go and do actual science whilst y'all argue. Bye."
My patience had run out. We were examining the parasites we found in the murder-anthropods-from-space, codename MAFS, courtesy of yours truly, and their amazing properties to penetrate cell membranes and feed on metals in organic life forms. Without Bruce's help I understood maybe half of it but he had the patience of a saint and dutifully and understandably explained to me the finer points of studying aliens. Signing half a dozen NDAs was never more worth it.
Steve's sigh consisted of 99% suffering and 2% disappointment. Natasha face-palmed silently in the corner, clutching a mug of coffee, a poster child for existential dread.
"Wait for me," Tony whined, going for the door and promptly being stopped by Steve pointing out the team needing his input on one mission or another. The engineer sighed. "Baby girl, don't let the green mean to start any experiments without me." Tony instructed, pointing an accusatory finger in our direction.
I clutched at Bruce dramatically, feigning hurt feelings and was rewarded with a swift motion of his arms. I shrieked delightfully at being thrown over the scientist's shoulder as he hastened his pace towards the elevator, hightailing it out of there. "I'd never snitch on science daddy," I wiggled my eyebrows in Tony's direction, sticking a hand down the back pocket of Bruce's pants, dangling over his shoulder like a happy sack of potatoes.
The lab smelled strongly of alcohol and bitter chemicals, the solution that Bruce developed to ensure the optimal state of the alien pathogens. The man's genius never ceased to amaze me: Bruce came up with the needed formula in the span of a few hours while running low on sleep, post a Hulk-out session.
We put on our protective gear - "science onesies" I called them - along with a respirator and goggles and set to the segregated part of the lab where the specimens were kept under a blue light. The glass wall between Bruce's and Tony's lab was dimmed; I reflected in it, looking positively futuristic in my double-stacked white platformed boots and white hazmat suit.
"Wait," I motioned to Bruce to come over.
"Oh, right, our music," He was already half-way to being in total Science Mode. "Friday, please put on the "Get Schwifty" playlist, 60% volume."
The playlist that me and Bruce came up with for our lab sessions. The man was such an adorable dork. Thirty percent my music, thirty percent of his indie rock shit and forty percent 00's bops. In other words, utter perfection.
I finally managed to fish out my phone from my pants. "No, let's take a selfie," I struck an impressive pose and pointed the camera as Avril Lavigne sung the first verse to Sk8r Boi.
Bruce laughed but abided by the request, giving me bunny ears in the photo, tapping the fingers of his other hand on my waist to the rhythm of the song.
"He was a skater boy, she said see ya later boy!" I sang along, switching my Instagram to stories and posting the short clip of us just vibing with the caption #sciencetime, Bruce laughing openly behind his respirator. I looked cute and silly in my outfit.
"Send the video to me, I'll post it on my Twitter," Bruce requested. I indulged him then put my phone away, ready to conquer the world of microbiology. Or die trying. Science was calling...
THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie
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11 hours - part three
Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader
Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.
Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned
A/N: we got some spicy things happening this chapter folks!! a lot of natasha too and plot and a tiny bit of fluff at the end. i hope you enjoy!! let me know what you think. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.
title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist
part one | part two
Mrs Shoreditch had agreed to meet you at the cafe you’d been inhabiting daily as you kept watch on Steve’s shop, and you’re waiting for her now at your usual table with unusual trepidation. Your leg is bouncing under the table, you’re darting looks left and right down the street trying to catch sight of her. You have to finish this job - seeing Bucky last night confirmed that. Looking into his friends and his life feels wrong, and you want to end it as soon as possible. It’s none of your business unless Bucky wants it to be.
She’s late, one o’clock ticking by and then some, anxiety hiking with every passing minute. The file on her husband sits unremarkable on the table in front of you, and you drum your fingers against it unconsciously. The sooner this meeting is over the sooner you can move on with your day, maybe go see your dad, take on some normal clients who don’t have eery connections to your personal life and keep you up at night.
Someone approaches the table and you’re about to feel relieved, until you look up and instead of seeing Mrs Shoreditch apologising for her tardiness you find Natasha standing before you. She blocks out the sun, a ring of red wisps escaping her ponytail lit up like a halo behind her head but the calculating look in her eyes is nowhere near angelic. She looks nothing like the girl you met at the party - gone is the sundress, replaced by an outfit weirdly similar to yours. Leather jacket, skinny jeans, Docs and chipped black nail polish you catch as she wiggles her fingers at you in that same, condescending wave.
“Natasha?” You can’t believe she’s caught you, but you’re technically not doing anything wrong right now - you just feel like you are, with the way she’s looking at you like a ‘gotcha’ moment not gone your way.
Natasha nods, smirking, and says, “What a coincidence.”
“Yeah,” you breathe, but you know neither of you believe it. “What are you doing here?”
“Visiting Steve,” she says. It takes everything in you not to glance over at the tattoo shop, giving yourself away. You bite the inside of your cheek and keep your eyes trained on hers, furrowing your brows in an approximation of confusion. She waits a beat, you don’t think you’ve convinced her, but then she says, ”He works over there.”
She jerks a thumb to the tattoo shop and you nod, following her finger with bone-deep relief. It doesn’t last long, tension eating it’s way back up your spine as she asks, “What about you? I haven’t seen you here before.”
Been here every day, lady, you think, but say with a tap to the folder on the table, “Work. Meeting a client.”
“Oh?” she asks, an eyebrow raised. She doesn’t question you further, but that in itself is suspicious. Everyone always presses for more with your vague answers - client? For what? Announcing you’re a private investigator kind of ruins your confidential reputation so you often have to work a lot harder than this to keep your work life private. Natasha doesn’t press it, though. Like she already knows. Dread curls low and heavy in your gut.
At that moment, Mrs Shoreditch finally shows up. She doesn’t seem harried, out of breath, or concerned she’s late in any way, shape, or form. She takes the seat opposite you, offering you a smile and placing her ridiculously expensive handbag on the table. With blonde hair tossed over one shoulder, to your absolute horror she looks up to Natasha and smiles at her, too. Recognition, as Natasha returns it.
“You should come over to the shop when you’re done,” Natasha says to you but it sounds more like a demand than a request, shattering the silence with a sledgehammer. You’d miscalculated, somewhere. Something isn’t right.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say, making eye contact with Mrs Shoreditch and hoping Natasha understands. You hardly think Mrs Shoreditch would want you going in there after you reveal that’s the place her husband has been shovelling her money into for months. Mrs Shoreditch avoids your gaze, however, picking at her perfect manicure. It clicks, then. You’re so fucking stupid.
“See you in a minute,” Natasha says, ignoring what you said entirely with a sparkle in her eyes that doesn’t bode well for you. She crosses the street, gone in a second, and you turn back to Mrs Shoreditch as a numbness creeps into your veins.
She’s a typical socialite, perfectly up-kept in every aspect and dressed to the nines even for a rubbish cafe in Red Hook. You didn’t think she was capable of hoodwinking you, and maybe that’s where you first went wrong. She finally meets your eyes, apologetic and almost tearful. She reaches a hand out, resting it on the file you’d prepared as if she realises last minute trying to touch you is a bad fucking idea.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, “I’ve been wasting your time-“
“Natasha hired you to hire me,” you say, cutting her off with the coldness in your voice. She nods mutely, retracting her hand back to her lap as if burned. “You already knew about Mike’s other bank account.”
“Yes,” she admits, rolling her lips together. At least she has the decency to look ashamed. “Ms Romanoff said she’d pay off an instalment of Mike’s debt if I hired you, and I- I didn’t ask questions. I’m so sorry, you seem lovely-“
You don’t wait to hear her finish, standing from the table and leaving your useless file behind without a second glance. You head across the street, for the first time approaching the front door of the tattoo parlour. Natasha knew you’d come here eventually, knew you’d see Steve and start putting dots together. She baited you here, but why? You were Bucky’s fuck buddy, nothing more. Why play this game at all?
You take a deep breath before shouldering the door open, entering the permanent twilight of the shop you’d come to know so well through the lens of your camera. It’s cool in here, the street noise dampened so all you can hear is pop-punk playing low through speakers and the buzz of the tattoo gun. Steve is at the back, bent over someone’s arm and doesn’t break concentration when the bell above the door rings, announcing your entrance. Natasha waits, however, hip propped up against the counter and smiling as she sees you stop at the door, not daring to enter further.
“What do you want?” you ask, calling out across the shop. It draws the attention of the two guys in leather, Steve’s regulars, sitting on the couch in the waiting area. They eye you suspiciously, as does the kid who mans the cash register you often see doing homework instead of his job. Natasha pushes off the counter, beckoning you to the back of the store where you know Steve’s office to be. You follow, heart in your mouth, aware you’re walking further into the trap you hadn’t even known had been set for you.
Natasha closes the door behind you and takes a seat at the desk, covered in stencil designs and files which she seems to entirely disregard as she crosses her feet on top of them, dirt smears be damned. You sit in the chair opposite, back ramrod straight with how uncomfortable you are, and wait for an answer.
“You’re smart,” she says, which is not what you were expecting. You blink, confused by the compliment, and Natasha smirks. “And a lot more observant than Bucky gives you credit for.”
“It’s my job,” you say, unsure of what to give away. Obviously she knows you’re a private investigator or you wouldn’t be in this mess, but she doesn’t know what you know. Not yet, anyway.
“I know,” she says, inclining her head, “I googled you.”
That makes you uncomfortable. Bucky doesn’t even know your last name, how does she? All that she would’ve found is your business website because you’re not stupid enough to put your life online, but still, the thought that she had been trying to look into you makes your blood run cold. You’re starting to really regret going to that party with Bucky - if Natasha’s weird behaviour then wasn’t a tip off, then your deep-dive into their secret lives has clearly shown you there’s a lot more to Bucky than he was ever intending of letting on. Natasha’s intervention in your job merely confirms what you’d already figured out.
“Why did you get Mrs Shoreditch to hire me?” you ask. Natasha regards you for a second, thinking, and it’s a look that reminds you eerily of Bucky.
“I wanted to see what you’d find,” she says. You feel your jaw clench, despite yourself - she’s being evasive even now, and it’s like she can read your frustration because she smiles then, says, “And I wanted to see if Bucky’s choice to trust you was a wise one.”
“He doesn’t trust me,” you say, defensive, too quick. She raises her eyebrows. Frustrated at this cryptic and frankly dramatic conversation, you ask, “Can you just tell me what you want? You’ve wasted weeks of my time and I think I deserve to know why.”
“As I said,” Natasha said slowly, clearly amused at the rise she’s managed to get out of you, “I want to see what you found.”
“Are you going to pay for it?” you snap. You don’t want to tell her - you don’t know why. Clearly, she already knows far more than you ever will, but this is the only thing you have over her and it feels like the most important thing in the world in this moment.
Natasha rolls her eyes and says, “You’ll be well compensated, don’t worry.”
You have a small stare off with the red head before you huff, conceding. That was a fight you were destined to lose, anyway. You grab your laptop from your bag and send a quick email of everything you’d collected to Steve’s business email. His monitor pings with a notification and and you raise your eyebrows towards it, watching Natasha unfold her legs off the desk and lean forward to start reading. You don’t trust her with your laptop as far as you can throw it, so you make sure it’s shut down completely before placing it back in your bag.
Natasha reads for a long time, because you’d found a lot. Her eyes dart across the screen almost too-fast, the set of her mouth growing tenser and tenser as each silent minute passes. You feel a weird, sick sense of satisfaction at that - clearly, you’d surpassed her expectations.
You had been thorough. Pictures of Steve, the kid working the counter, the regulars who park their bikes at the back, the bikes themselves, the inside of the shop from your window vantage point, Sam at one point, Natasha at others, meetings they held and rough angles of deals gone on inside the shop. You couldn’t get a clear shot, but you saw them exchanging money with leather-clad strangers for something. The long hours after closing they spend at the tattoo shop doing everything but tattooing is all captured and saved on your computer. You’d written up a run-sheet of the shop’s routines as well, based on what you’d observed from your little cafe spot - Natasha spends longer looking at that then anything else, mouse hovering over the word you’d written at the bottom. Gang?
You’d researched them all, except for Bucky. He never appeared at the shop while you were watching it, and it gave you the perfect out to leave him alone in your investigation. Steve and Sam had wrap sheets longer than your arm, and Natasha notably had nothing online at all. None of them had social media, which is weird, and the only photo you could find dated back to a highschool cross country picture of Steve and Sam, first and second medals respectively. You refused to look for Bucky. It made you sick just thinking about what you’d find on him, so you decided you just didn’t want to know. Not like that, behind a computer screen in your apartment with a bottle of red-wine half gone beside you. Bucky doesn’t belong there.
You could have kept digging, given more time. It had been eating at you, though, consuming the hours you were supposed to be sleeping and waking you up when you finally closed your eyes. It didn’t matter how much you found, ten more questions would arise from it, and you were becoming obsessed. So you decided to end it. Clearly, you’d come to that conclusion a bit too late.
“Bucky doesn’t know your last name,” Natasha says, suddenly, shocking you enough to flinch. She doesn’t look away from the screen, but goes on, “He doesn’t know you’re a PI, where you live, what you do in your spare time. He knows noting about you, but he doesn’t seem to care. I told him that was stupid.”
You swallow past the hard lump in your throat. You knew Natasha hadn’t exactly warmed to you at that party but you hadn’t expected this level of- what would you even call it? A threat? You feel threatened, a metaphorical knife to your throat as Natasha finally looks at you again, pinning you down with a cold green stare.
“He’s not in any of this,” she says, tapping a fingernail on the keyboard to emphasis your research. It’s not a question, but you know what she’s asking.
“I wasn’t hired to look into Bucky,” you say, refraining from adding because I have self control and I don’t need to invade his privacy to have sex with him. “Anything I need to know, I can get from him.”
Natasha is silent for a long time, staring at you, and you don’t dare look away. This, too, is a test. After god-knows how much time has passed, she stands and you do too, hurrying to grab your bag and meet her at the office door she holds open for you. Conversation over, you suppose - you’re starting to get used to Natasha’s cryptic ways even if they piss you off beyond belief.
“Delete everything you just sent me,” she says. You scoff, rolling your eyes at her, but she stares you down with the darkest, scariest look you’ve ever received from someone who’s a head shorter than you. You think about that word you’d written in your notes, gang, after one too many red wines and thinking back to the way Natasha looked at you when you described them all as a family. Maybe you shouldn’t argue with her, given everything you’d experienced today.
“I’d cover that window if I were you,” you say, instead of answering. A muscle ticks in her jaw but she says nothing else, so you take your leave. Steve waves awkwardly as you go but you ignore him, shouldering out of the shop and practically running down the street.
Energy burns in your muscles that you can’t seem to get rid of, even as you chose to walk all the way back to your apartment which takes over an hour. It’s anger, you realise, fisting your hair and pacing around your apartment like a crazy person. Uncontrollable rage at being played with, tested at every turn, and for what? You never asked to be a part of this game. You’d never done anything but exactly what Bucky asked and it still wasn’t enough.
Your phone begins to ring, Bucky’s name flashing across the screen, and with a scream of pure frustration you throw it full-force into the nearest wall. It makes a dent in the drywall, falls to the ground and the impact shatters the screen but that won’t stop it vibrating uselessly against the floorboards as Bucky rings and rings and rings.
You won’t pick up. This time, or ever again. And not just because you’ve now fucked your phone beyond repair, either. You never asked to play this game, so now you’ll take yourself out of it.
***
This is exactly why you keep yourself so guarded - cutting people out is easy when they have nothing to hold onto. You change your phone number when you go to get it fixed, and it’s like Bucky never even existed. He doesn’t know where you work, where you live, and you don’t go back to any of the bars you went to with him. It’s easier than breathing to remove him from your life.
The same cannot be said about removing Bucky from you.
He’d crawled inside your ribcage and stayed there, burnt a cigarette hole in your heart to claim it as his and you hate that. You never allowed him to do that. So he might not be physically in your life anymore but he’s still there, a ghost of a hand on your throat and an ache that might mean you miss him.
His friends are crazy and he’s in a gang, you tell yourself daily, like it’ll help. Like you believe it even slightly. It’s better this way.
“You’re quiet, kroshka,” you dad says, handing you a cup of tea. You remove your thumb from your mouth where you’d been gnawing at a hangnail to take it, smiling up at him in thanks. He doesn’t go back to his armchair, though, rather kicking a cushion off the couch to sit beside you. You dip with his added weight, closer to him, and he allows you to rest your head on his shoulder while you both blow on your teas in unintentional tandem.
“Kroshka is tired,” you mumble. He clicks his tongue at you, which is fair. Shit excuse, anyway. You sit up, twisting to face him, and ask, “How do I know if I’m overreacting to something?”
“With you, overreacting is baseline,” your dad says, grinning as you slap him on the arm. He takes a sip of tea and says, “Tell me.”
“No,” you say, aware you’re being a brat, but what are you going to say? This woman tricked me and she’s smarter than me so I cut the guy I like out of my life because I can’t let anyone in or I feel like I’m going to die? Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue.
“Well,” he says, giving you an unimpressed look, “If you’re questioning whether you’re overreacting, I would say there might be some truth to the feeling. It’s not like you to be unsure, though. Are you sure everything’s ok?”
“Yes, papa,” you sigh, going back to leaning on his shoulder. He might have a point. “You’ve just raised an idiot.”
“I did no such thing,” he says, placing his tea on the side table to pull you into a hug. You feel small, like you’re a little girl again, and you close your eyes against your father’s chest. Maybe you can just stay here and forget about the mess you’ve made of your life. He rubs circles into your back and says, “You’ll figure it out.”
“Ya lyublyu tebya, luna,” you say softly. I love you, moon. You’ve been saying this since before you can remember, your dad whispering it into your hair when he tucked you in at night or you calling across the playground when he’d drop you off at school. In your secret language so no one else knows, a message just for him - from you to your entire world.
“Lyublyu tetbya bol’she, zvedzdy,” he responds, kissing your hair. Love you more, stars.
He sends you off with a bag of donut holes, an obvious reminder you’re both not actually Russian but New Yorker to the bone, and you eat two on the subway ride home while you think. Deleting Bucky from your life is instinct, protection - he’d gotten too close. But really, when you allow yourself to examine the tight knot of feelings sitting in the base of your throat, what’s making you run is guilt.
You crossed a line, investigating his friends. You pried into the life he very purposefully kept you away from and you’d changed your number not because you didn’t want Bucky contacting you anymore, but because he might decide not to and you couldn’t live with watching your phone for a notification that would never come. Natasha will have told him everything by now, probably even showed him, and he’ll never trust you now. You’d blown it. You could be angry at Natasha for baiting you into doing it, but she never would have felt the need to if you had just been honest.
You stuff another donut hole in your mouth to stop yourself from crying. It works only a little bit.
The apartment feels colder, lonelier than it ever has even though being alone was what you thought you wanted. It just allows you to think of Bucky some more, curled up on your couch with the bag of donut holes now empty on the coffee table, sniffling into the sleeve of your hoodie. His smell, the way he always runs hot, the callouses on his hands probably from working in his garage you’ll never get to see now. Stubble, short-shaven hair, tattoos all down his left arm you never gave proper attention to. You can’t remember them all. Just the star, red and big in the middle of his deltoid. You thought you had more time.
“Fuck it,” you say, fishing your phone out of your jeans pocket. Bucky might not have your number anymore but you have his. Maybe if you just called him and heard his voice for a second, just that rumbly ‘hello,’ it might scratch the itch driving you insane. Before you can dial though, you get a notification from your banking app - a deposit from a new contact.
Natasha Romanoff jumps out at you, stopping your heart in your chest. Does she have a sixth sense for any time you so much as think about Bucky? She’s transferred you an obscene amount of money, and it takes you far too long to realise she’s paying you for the Shoreditch case that turned out to be one giant trust test you spectacularly failed. The reason you’re being a pathetic mess alone in your apartment pining over a guy who, as Natasha said herself, doesn’t even know your last name. Get a grip, Jesus Christ.
You open up the notification just to check it’s real and she really did triple the quote you’d given Mrs Shoreditch. That’s when you read what she’s written as the name of the transaction - an address for somewhere in Queens. You should probably at least think about jumping up, grabbing your jacket and practically sprinting from your apartment to an address sent to you by someone you’re 99% sure is part of a biker gang, but you don’t. You have a pretty good idea of what that address means, and curiosity is your biggest vice. Natasha’s sending you a cryptic message and you might not quite understand what it means just yet, but you’re certainly not going to ignore it.
Half an hour later you’re standing across the street from White Wolf Mechanics, hiding in the gaps between street lights and watching Bucky fix up a motorbike. The three huge roller doors are all open, letting light spill out onto the street as well as the thump of a baseline from a song you recognise, because you showed him it. Natasha sits on the work bench cross legged, scrolling on her phone and occasionally handing Bucky tools as he asks for them. He stands, wipes his hands on his skintight black t-shirt and says something into the depth of the shop. Sam appears, grinning wide and tossing a greasy rag at Bucky’s head which he catches easily.
He seems well, and that makes you happy. It’s only been a couple of days since you last saw him but it might as well have been months from how much you’ve spiralled. He might not have even noticed you’d separated yourself from him, and that thought makes you sick. You should go. You need to go. But your feet carry you across the street, jogging into the shadows so they don’t see you. You’ll hear his voice and then you’ll go.
You linger by the farthest roller door from them, sticking outside the pool of light and half-hiding behind the wall of the shop. You can still see them, though, Bucky’s face now turned towards you as he learns over the bike. Brow furrowed in concentration, and you want to smooth out the dent between them with your thumb but that’s not for you anymore. It never was.
“Have you talked Sam about it?” Natasha asks Bucky. You watch him glare at the part he’s holding in his hands and his whole body stiffens. He keeps his back to Natasha so you can see the anger play across his face clear as day.
“What’s there to tell?” he snaps. “You’ve taken care of everything, fuck what I want, so what’s the point?”
“Cut it out, James,” Natasha snaps back, “You know I was protecting you.”
“When did I ask,” Bucky grits out through a clenched jaw, throwing the part to the ground so the clang of metal on stone echoes out onto the empty street, making you jump. He balls his fists up at his sides and says, “You were out of line.”
“I’m sorry,” Natasha says evenly. She unfolds herself from the table with an unfair amount of grace and steps behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Bucky sighs, shoulders curling in and tension leaking out of his body. You want to hug him, but you will yourself to stay where you are.
Eventually, Bucky shrugs off Natasha’s touch and says, like a moody teenager, “Whatever.” Natasha rolls her eyes, watching him go back to work on the bike with a bit too much aggression that is strictly necessary. She hands him the part he threw silently, and it takes him a beat to unclench his fists and take it. A peace offering, you suppose, in Natasha’s strange language. She doesn’t go back to the workbench, rather staying by Bucky’s side despite his annoyed grumble.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she says, “You proved me wrong, and I’m not too proud to realise that. I am sorry.”
Bucky looks up at her, as confused as you feel because where the fuck did that come from, and says, “Proved you- have you completely lost it?”
But Natasha isn’t look at him anymore. She’s looking at you.
Busted, you think, and you consider turning around and running before Bucky can see you. It’s a bit late for that, though, so you step into the light of the shop and halfheartedly return Natasha’s welcoming grin. It takes Bucky a second, snapping his fingers in front of Natasha’s face like he’s worried she’s actually gone in insane before he follows her eyeline and lands on you.
You’ve never seen Bucky shocked before, but he looks it now as for the second time the spare part he’s holding hits concrete with an ear-grating clang. You flinch at the sound despite yourself, and that seems to shock Bucky back into action. He whips around to glare at Natasha, pointing at you as he does.
“What did you do,” he demands. Maybe coming here really was a bad idea after all.
Natasha, ignoring Bucky completely, walks over to hold out her hand for you to shake. I’m lost, you think, as she says, “Let’s start again. I’m Natasha, James is the only family I have and I’m neurotically protective of him. He’s right to trust you, as much as it pains me to say I’m sorry for meddling in your relationship.”
You don’t take her hand. You’re not entirely sure you want to forgive her just yet, even if she did extend the olive branch to get you here. You fold your arms over your chest and say, “Next time, if you want to know something about me, just ask.”
She quirks an eyebrow at you, retracting her hand back to her side and you hate the way she always seems to be laughing at you. Natasha ducks her head, smirks, and disappears into some back office without another word. It’s just you and Bucky, the body of a bike between you as well as the weight of all the things you never said that’s all out in the open now. You’re looking at each other like you never have before, eyes open to the vast chasm of secrets you’ve both been keeping, and for the first time since you met Bucky you keep your distance.
“So,” he says, folding this arms over his giant chest. Not fair, you think, as his biceps flex against the tight sleeve of his t-shirt. Bucky averts his eyes to somewhere beyond your head and says, “You’re a private investigator.”
“You’re in a biker gang,” you reply, mimicking his folded-arms tight-lipped expression. He raises his eyebrows in a silent touché, and now that it’s out in the open you feel something inside you break off, slide down the tense hunch of your shoulders until you feel weightless. You should want to lock up tight, keep Bucky out because he’s gotten far too close already - you should use this blight as an escape. Somehow, though, having Bucky see you like no one else really has doesn’t feel as scary as you thought it would. Maybe because you have something of him, too, tucked against your head and healing that metaphorical cigarette burn. A secret for a secret. You can work with that.
“You changed your number,” Bucky says, and he’s walking over to you now. Guard dropped, hands by his sides, pinning you in place with his eyes on yours for the first time in what feels like centuries.
“I was scared,” you say, coming out more like a breath than a sentence, too transfixed with Bucky being so close to you when you never thought you’d get this again. He smells like car oil and sweat, but you’ll take any gross combination over nothing at all. He places his greasy hands either side of your neck, pulling you closer so practically standing between his legs.
“You know,” Bucky says, rubbing his thumb over the protrusion of your collarbone like he’s trying to turn your brain and legs into jelly, “Nat doesn’t have a high opinion of a lot of people. She means a lot to me.”
“She’s terrifying,” you say, and Bucky throws his head back in a laugh that has you grinning like an idiot. That sound settles warm in the pit of your stomach, spreading through all the dirty guilt and fear you’d been living in for the past few days. Biting your lip as you sober slightly, you say, “I’m sorry for prying, I should’ve just-“
“Don’t,” Bucky says, stern, shutting you up pretty effectively. “I’m sorry Nat is a nosy bitch-“
“Hey!” Natasha’s voice comes from the back office, startling you both into laughing even as Bucky turns to face the door with a murderous glare on his face.
“Don’t you have anything better to do!” Bucky yells, voice thundering through the echoey garage. He waits few beats for absolute silence, neither of you convinced Natasha had actually left, but it’s the best you’re going to get. He turns back to you, small smile on his face so at odds with how rough and messy he looks. Hulking muscle and scars and tattoos and you should be cautious, should be running, shouldn’t be letting him back you up until you hit the wall and he can pin you there with his hips pressed into yours.
But you’ve never been one to ignore something as intriguing and mysterious as Bucky Barnes, no matter how dangerous it might be. Bucky slides one hand up from your neck to splay across your jaw, fingers pressing almost too tight into the soft skin, and you should run from this, too. A reminder, a promise, a warning. You let him.
“Are we even?” Bucky asks, mumbled into the minuscule space between you. You can’t find your voice so you just nod, and Bucky cocks his head to the side as he asks, “You can still leave, y’know. I’ll understand.”
“No way,” you say with a vigorous shake of your head, probably too quickly if Bucky’s amused smirk is anything to go by. You shut him up real quick with a roll of your hips into his, watching with a sense of victory as his expression darkens and he tightens his grip on you. You say, eyebrows raised, “I’ve still got way too many questions.”
“Like what?” Bucky asks, but he’s not got his full attention on what you’re saying anymore, too busy using his grip on your jaw to tug your head to the side and kiss up your neck, warm and open-mouthed with just a bit of teeth.
You nod your head towards the bike he was fixing before, drawing his attention for a second as he flicks his eyes in its direction before resuming his trail of bruising kisses. A bit breathy maybe, you say, “Ever fucked someone on a motorbike before?”
“Absolutely not!” you hear a male voice practically scream, and soon enough Sam is practically running out of the back office with a smirking Natasha on his tail. “This is our place of work! It’s sacred!”
“Go home, Sam,” Bucky says into your skin, still loud enough for them to hear but he doesn’t get off you. You’re blushing, making eye contact with Bucky’s friends and wishing the ground will swallow you whole but Bucky just digs his teeth into the crook of your jaw and grins as he watches your eyes flutter shut. This mixture of embarrassment and unadulterated horniness is making your brain short-circuit.
“My eyes!” Sam cries as Natasha grabs him by the wrist and drags him from the garage. Not without a wink sent your way, and you’ll find time to be humiliated by that later. Right now, you’ve got Bucky’s mouth on yours to contend with and it’s going to take all of your attention.
Part 4
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let me know what yall think of this part!! THANK YOU
#bucky barnse x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader fic#bucky x reader fic#bucky barnes fic#bucky fic#biker!bucky#biker!bucky au#11 hours#bucky barnes#natasha romanoff#sam wilson#reader insert fic#pov fic#pov#avengers au
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studio session | myg
⤑ series: do it again
⤑ genre: smut, rapper!yoongi x model!reader, ex lovers au.
⤑ rating: explicit.
⤑ word count: 4.1K
⤑ warnings: cursing, dirty talk, dom!yoongi, fingering, pussy slapping, oral sex (f. receiving), brief clothed handjob, biting, hair pulling.
⤑ A/N: to be honest, i felt a little odd?? writing this. i wasn’t really motivated as i usually am, so if that translates throughout the chapter i apologize! i would need to, though! thank all of you guys for reading this story and giving me your feedback! the response has been amazing and iM SO HAPPY FOR THAT! so thank youuuu! i hope you enjoy this chapter, make sure to let me know what you think! x
Just, as usual, the door to Yoongi's Genius Lab was locked. In the past, you'd rush up to the door... typing in the eight digits that represented your birthday. You could still remember the way your heart would flutter at the sight of the red light turning green, allowing you access to his sanctuary.
Now though, you were more than positive that he had changed the code. Not bothering to, or really in the mood to try and guess what he could've possibly changed the code to, you knocked.
Three times, hard and loud, knowing how turned off to the outside world he was when he was behind those thick doors. Moments passed before the door was being pulled open, Yoongi's sleepy eyes and unkempt hair being the first thing you could focus on. Pushing a smile onto your lips, you lifted the to-go box for him to see.
“Why didn't you just come in?” He wondered, moving to the side so you could enter. Yoongi was pushing the door closed, crossing the room to sink back into his chair.
“I don't know the code.” You replied plainly, setting the food down on the table behind him. Yoongi shot you with a quizzical glance, his eyebrows furrowing. “You don't know your own birthday?”
Despite the monotone that was his voice and his bored expression, you still felt the butterflies spread their wings in your stomach. A blush creeping up your neck, toward your cheeks. So he hadn't changed it. You had no idea why that made you feel so warm, but it did.
Shaking your head, you forced your attention to the reason for this visit. “I brought you spicy noodles and steak. There are chopsticks in the box and I got you some vitamin water to drink.”
He nodded coolly, fingers poking through the bag to scooping out its contents. “You didn't get yourself a drink?”
“Why would I need one?”
He shrugged, standing from his chair. Yoongi took slow steps toward you, only to past you completely and sink down into the comfort of his black leather couch. “I just figured we'd eat together.” He was looking at you in the way he knew you couldn't deny.
Lips pouted, cat-shaped eyes slightly squinted, head tilted to the side. How he managed to look this adorable, just sitting there in his baggy black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He had kicked his shoes off sometime throughout the night, black socks replacing them. Who were you to reject him?
You were moving to sit beside him before you could talk yourself out of him. Ignoring the triumphant grin that broke onto his lips once he saw you approaching. “We'll just share my drink.”
No matter how many times you insisted that you were one hundred percent capable of feeding yourself, Yoongi didn't stop shoveling mouthfuls of food into your mouth. Each time he would feed himself, he would be quick with feeding you.
It all felt comfortable and familiar and you hated that. You were meant to be moving on, yet you couldn't bring yourself to leaving. Couldn't bring yourself to stopping and you were quickly realizing that you didn't want to. There was still so much there and you'd feel like an idiot if you just let it all slip away.
There had to be a way to work through all this, right?
“What are you thinking about?” You hadn't even realized how close the two of you managed to get while sitting there. Thighs pressed together, his arm loosely around your waist as you leaned into him.
His touch always felt so nice. It was like he had a sixth sense, in tune with your body. He always knew where to be gentle, when to be rough. Knew exactly how to make you feel good with little to no effort. Would you ever be able to find someone who knew you like that again? Doubt it.
“Just how you've been hogging all the meat. All I keep getting is noodles,” You faked a pout and he laughed, searching through the noodles to pull out a piece of meat. He brought it to your lips and you opened, eyes staying trained on him the entire time he pushed into your mouth.
Your heart pounded in your chest, a result of the way he was looking at you. Hungry as if he'd pounce in second now. The countless times you looked up at him as he pushed his cock into your mouth, no doubt that was the only thing running through his mind.
You could feel the atmosphere changing and from the darkness of his eyes, you could tell he felt it too. Clearing your throat, you shifted in hopes to put a little bit of distance between you two.
“What were you working on before I got here?” You tried to change to subject. Wanting to stick to your guns about at least one thing. You weren't sure if you'd be able to resist for long, the physical contact wasn't doing much for your situation either.
“Where did Hyoseop take you?” Yoongi ignored your question in his signature Yoongi way. You couldn't help but wonder how many times he tossed that question around in his head. How many scenarios he was able to come up with before he was driving himself crazy.
You shrugged, “Just around.”
He let out a laugh, a sound that you weren't expecting. “Must've been a really shitty date.” He slurped at his noodles, that annoying smirk on his lips. You rolled your eyes.
“It was really nice actually.” Yoongi barked out a laugh, nearly choking on the noodles in his mouth. You glared at him, reaching to land a weak punch on his shoulder. “My bad, my bad.” He snorted, reaching for the drink and sucking back a long sip.
“I only guessed that that date was trash, but now I'm sure of it.” He breathed, pushing his fingers through his hair. “'Really nice' yeah, okay, Yn. Just say you were bored out of your mind.”
You hated him. So sure of it. Forget all the nice things you had said about him in the past, he was an asshole. How dare he make assumptions about your time out. How dare he laugh about it. How dare he be right.
Hyoseop was a nice guy. Really sweet. But he just wasn't fun. You two went to get ice cream and walked around the park until your dinner reservations. He was a little put off about having ice cream before dinner, something you and Yoongi made a big habit of. Hyoseop just didn't get it.
The conversation between the two of you was stale, to say the least. He made attempts to make you laugh and you spared him a sweet giggle. You just couldn't seem to concentrate fully on him. Mindlessly comparing every lacking quality to all the things Yoongi had to offer.
So you hated him.
“You don't know that. I had a good time,” You tried to convince him, although you didn't believe it a bit. He rolled his eyes. “You know you can't lie to me. Did you kiss him?”
“It was only the first date!”
“Bullshit. You kissed me before I even asked you out.” You had. Kissed him in his kitchen because he had spent the entire day making you laugh. Flirting with you and complimenting you. Namjoon had walked in, all wide-eyed and surprised as if the sexual tension between you two hadn't been thick enough to cut with a knife.
Things only escalated from there, gentle kisses turning hot and rough, innocent hand-holding turning to heavy petting, the feeling of his hands in your hair no longer having its sweet effect on you. When your first date came around you were sucking him off in the backseat of his car, sneaking past his friends and into his room where you guys fucked into the early hours of the morning.
The ache was back in your belly, a feeling you became all too familiar with after the two of you broke up. You missed him. Missed how easily things clicked with him, how quickly you were falling for each other. Or how quickly you fell for him.
“I didn't tell you how pretty I think you look in that dress.” The tip of his fingers ran over the end of your dress, slickly grazing your thighs as well. “Did you get all dressed up for me?” He grinned. You shook your head, swatting his hand from your leg.
“Nope.”
He rolled his eyes, moving closer to you on the couch. His strong hand landing at the side of your neck, fingers reaching to grasp the hair at the nape of your neck. Free hand dropping to grip your thigh, pulling your legs up onto his lap. He leaned close and you leaned into him, heart pounding with anticipation. All you wanted was to feel his lips again.
You puckered, when his lips were inches from yours, eyes falling closed missing the annoying smirk that took over his features. His lips found your ear, brushing against the shell gently. “You're such a liar.” He chuckled and you shoved at his chest, pushing him back.
“You're an asshole.” Laughs left his lips, his body hunching over until he was sucking breaths into his lungs. You shoved him again. “It's not even that funny.” He was straightening his body, looking at you as he took deep breaths.
“If you want to kiss me, Yn... you know you can just go for it,” He teased and you rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time. You were a bit afraid they'd get stuck like that. “I don't want to kiss you, Min Yoongi.”
Your legs still rested on his lap, the tips of his fingers mindlessly running over your thighs. Tracing the patterns that decorated your legs. “A shame. I want to kiss you.” You felt all the heat in your body rushing south, just from the sound of his voice, the honesty in his words.
“Shut up,” You grumbled.
“When you gonna drop the act? Admit you still want me, that you still have feelings for me?” His hand had traveled higher now, figure eights being pressed into your kneecap by his gentle fingers.
“Because I shouldn't. I'm trying to get over you.” He rolled his eyes, annoyance taking over his features. “Fix your face, Yoongi. Do I need to remind you of the reason I need to get over you? How you-”
His words cut you off. “Cheated on you. I know, I know. Are you ever going to let that go? It was one mistake, Yn.” You ripped your legs from his lap, standing on your feet. Frustration taking over as you paced around the room, pushing your fingers through your hair.
“That wasn't our only problem, Yoongi. You weren't attentive, you didn't care.” He was quickly standing, moving so he was in your sight again. “You think I didn't care about you? Are you fucking kidding me, Yn!?” His hand reached for yours, bringing the shiny rock wrapped around your middle finger.
“What's this then? How about the diamond necklace I bought you for our one year? The way I filled up your closets with whatever you wanted. How the fuck can you say I don't care about you when all I do is shower you with nice things,”
You ripped your hand from his grasp, ignoring the electric feeling having your hand in his ensued. “That's not the same thing and you know that.” You spat. “You don't fucking take me seriously, Yoongi. You just expected me to be your girlfriend; would get pissed if I wasn't able to drop everything to be there for you. All the fucking times you scoffed when you talked about my job as if it was a damn hobby,”
You were in his face now, finger poking into his chest as you spoke. You never understood the point of arguing with him. Not once did he hear what you were shouting. He never made the effort to make a change and if he did, it wouldn't last long. The annoyed expression on his face was softening, something you weren't use to seeing.
His hand wrapped around your wrist, fingers lacing with yours. “I hear you, baby. I do. Let me make it better. I can fix it, I promise. Please,” You had no idea what you were seeing, Min Yoongi didn't beg. No, he just took what he wanted, left the begging to everyone else.
His eyes were so pleading and so sad and you could feel your heart cracking. His thumb rubbed against your wrist lovingly as he took slow steps toward you. He brought your hand to wrap around his neck, smiling when he dropped his arm around your waist.
“I fucking miss you, Yn. At least think of trying again, please,” You felt as if you could throw up. Everything you felt for this boy was fighting its way up your throat. The way he was looking at you, with such sincerity didn't help your case either.
You were leaning into him, body taking on a mind of its own. Your lips were finding his, molding together like they were meant to. A breath you hadn't even realized you were holding mixed with his groan.
A fucking slippery slope. All you could do now was enjoy the ride.
You weren't able to resist yourself around Min Yoongi, that was becoming evident to you now. Somehow, he had managed to lay you back on the couch. His skillful tongue licking into your mouth, hips pressing into yours and making your head spin.
You tried to keep your moans at bay, not wanting to pump up his ego more than it already was. Then his lips were trailing down the side of your neck, biting and sucking on the skin. Tiny gasps left your lips before you had a chance to suck them back.
He groaned at the sound, pushing his hips into yours. A long moan slipped through your lips from the friction he had just created between your legs. “Yoongi,” You whimpered as he sat up, leaving too much space between you two.
You reached for him and he grinned, grasping your hands in his. His lips pressed wet kisses against your wrists, eyes staying on yours the entire time. Your hips lifted, begging to feel his weight on you again. “So needy.” He grinned. “Bet your soaked even though I haven't even done much,” You chewed on your lips, keeping yourself from telling him he was right. Again.
“Will you let me taste you?” Your nodding faster than you would've liked. His grin grew as he dropped your hands, reaching for your thighs. “Is that how we get the things we want?” He smirked, waiting to hear your words despite the way he was spreading your legs and lowering himself between them.
You whimpered. “Yoongi, please... I need your tongue,” The words fell from your lips naturally. His fingers reached underneath your dress, peeling your tights down your legs and pushing your dress up with his free hand.
“Fuck,” He breathed. No doubt admiring the lewd way your damp panties stuck to your pussy. Your body flinched, feeling his cool breath against your core. His eyes lifted, taking in your expression before lowering himself again.
Your breath hitched once you felt him push the lacy material aside. A hiss leaving your lips as he dragged the tips of his fingers between your folds slowly. He's finding your clit easily, rolling gentle circles into the nub. Your head drops back into the armrest of the couch, thighs shaking as he continued his teasing.
Yoongi was no fan of teasing when it came to him. He lived for teasing you, though. Watching how long he could play with you until you were losing your mind. There was no way you'd be able to hold out this time, it had been too long without his touch.
“Yoongi, please.” You pleaded, hips squirming as you tried to get closer to his lips. Greeted with his gummy smile, his eyes stayed on yours as he slipped a single finger inside your heat. You gasped when he curled it hitting that perfect spot.
Slowly, he adds a second finger, watching as your back arches. Only four days had passed since you had felt the stretch of having him inside you. Four days was like an eternity when it came to you two. Your skin is flushed and you can't help the whimpers that fall from your lips as you wait for him to get to the good stuff.
“You're so fucking wet,” His voice is hushed, eyes watching the easy slide of his fingers pushing in and sliding out of your pussy. “Go ahead, baby. Tell me, who else can make you this wet?” He stared at you, daring you to mention Hyoseop's name.
Rolling your hips, you were able to meet his movements. “O-only you, Yoongi. Oh... fuck, only you.” Shamelessly, you were riding his hand. You didn't care, though. The look on his face is enough to egg you on.
Your body jumps when he decides to brush his thumb over your clit. It was quick and so soft you barely felt it, but your body was quick to react. “So fucking sensitive,” He noted through a heavy breath. His eyes are back on your pussy, watching his fingers as he chews on his lip.
He knew that you only acted this way with him, no matter how many times you tried to deny it, how you tried to act like he didn't affect you. He knew. The knowledge had his ego growing ten times its size.
“You always open up so nicely for me. No matter what. Like you're made for me.” He groans. All you can manage is a small whimper, the feeling of his fingers being the only thing you can concentrate on.
Slowly, he's sliding his fingers from inside you. Your walls clench around them in protest, and he lets out a chuckle. His fingers trail upwards, closing your clit between his knuckles as he pinches. You let out a yelp.
A whine leaves your lips as he removes his hand from your heat completely. He lifts his hand toward your face and without a second thought, you're opening your mouth for him; curling your tongue around his fingers.
The sweet taste of your juices against your tongue and the hungry look on Yoongi's face had a moan falling from your lips. You could feel the hardness of his length, pressed against your thigh. You were quick to press a hand between his legs, feeling your way up to his long cock.
“Shit,” He groaned, slowly pulling his fingers from his lips. “Look at you. So fucking ready for me. So eager.” Yoongi leans into you for a moment, allowing your hand to stroke him through the fabric of his pants.
You watch as his brows furrow, his breathing quickly becoming uneven. His hips are slowly rocking into your palm and if you didn't know any better you'd say he was close. You're sure of it when his hand is quick to bat yours away, eyes opening as a new flush takes over his cheeks.
A giggle leaves your lips as he leans back on the balls of his feet to look at you. “Did I almost make you make a mess, baby?” You tease and he rolls his eyes. Four days was definitely an eternity for you two.
You can't help the string of giggles that leave your lips, them only being cut short from the sharp feeling of his fingers slapping against your pussy. You scream, loving the pleasant throb now between your legs. He grips your thighs, pushing your legs up toward your chest.
Heart pounding against your chest, you watch him. Mouth basically watering as you wait, watch what he'll do next. Yoongi dips his head down, a warm wet trail of kisses tracing your inner knee as he makes his way up.
Nipping his way up your thigh, Yoongi only stops to suck a hickey into your flushed skin. Your nerves are screaming, way too aware of what he's doing. Pussy dripping, clenching around nothing as he gets closer to where you need him most. A huffed breath hits your core, and your hips arch.
The tip of his nose brushes against your clit as he lowers his head and you hold your breath. Slowly, his tongue drags along your folds. As if he's testing the waters. Your fingers are reaching for his messy hair and he chuckles, the vibration sending jolts of electricity throughout your body.
Yoongi licks into you a few more times, slow lack that before he's tossing your thighs over his shoulders and really diving in. Two fingers slip into your entrance, while he rolls his tongue against your clit. A long, high-pitched moan leaves your lips as you use the grip you hold in his hair to push his face closer.
Your hips lift, grinding against his face. Surprisingly, Yoongi doesn't push you down. He lets you have your fun, taking everything you're willing to give to him. His fingers brush the sweet spot deep inside of you at the same time his lips wrap around your clit, sucking.
You gasp, hips speeding up a bit. He loved to see you like this, a desperate mess trying to find your release. Loved it even more because he knew he was the only one that could get you like this. No matter who you fucked, who you let take you on dates, he was confident none of them could make you feel like this.
Because you were the only one that could make him feel the way he felt. Absentmindedly, his hips began to thrust, cock rubbing finding friction on the couch from the inside of his sweats. He was desperate for you too. Couldn't wait to bury himself deep inside you, feel you squeeze him in the way you always did.
His teeth grazed over your bud and your name falls from his lip, all high-pitched and whiny. All other thoughts leave his mind, the only thing on his mind is making you cum. A third finger slides into your wetness. You suck in a breath, enjoying the stretch. His fingers fuck into you quickly, his tongue rolling over your clit just as fast.
“F-fuck, Yoongi! Baby... keep-” Your hands are shaking as you grip his black hair, holding him in place so he wouldn't dare move away. “Don't stop, please.”
Satisfaction rushes over the boy's body. The sound of his name falling from your lips, he could tell how close you were from the way your pussy clenched around his fingers. He kept up with his pace, with the movement of his tongue.
His name left your lips amongst a breathy string of curses, legs squeezing him in as your body tenses. You had lost all regard for volume control, not like you had paid it much attention before. Yoongi's fingers continued to fuck into you, the sound filling the room and mixing with your whimpers.
“Shit, Yoongi!” You shout as a certain curl of his fingers pushes you over the edge. Incoherent words of praise leave your lips as your hips swivel and your thighs shake. He's not pulling back until your body relaxes. Droopy eyelids and heavy lids, you grin up at him.
Lips are wet with your release, a little swollen. His hair messy than before, standing up in areas you had been gripping. “Pretty girl.” His grin matches yours as he lifts his body until he's face to face with you.
His mouth finds yours, the kiss sloppy and wet. His tongue tasting of you as he licks into your mouth. His hands are planted on either side of your head. You can't help the moan that slips past your lips as his teeth bite down on your lower lip. He tugs it back, releasing it with a wide grin.
“What about you?” The prominent bulge in his sweats press into his hip bone and you want nothing more than to wrap your mouth around it or feel him deep inside of you. Both would be good too.
“Come home with me.” He suggests, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. The tip of his nose brushes against the length of your neck before he's biting into your skin, tongue quickly poking out to soothe the skin.
Would there ever be a time where you weren't so ready to do whatever this boy wanted? It was like you were incapable of saying no to him and he knew that. His dark eyes stared into yours until you were nodding. “Okay,” You smiled.
He was quick to capture your lips with his, kissing you much sweeter this time. The flutter in your chest didn't go unnoticed. There was no way you'd ever be able to get over him.
– months after deciding to end their three year long relationship, a sex tape hits the internet. fans go wild speculating that rap star, min yoongi and aspiring model, yn are the stars. old feelings arise as the couple try to figure out a way out of this.
⥦ masterlist ⥦
⤑ taglist: @randomkoalablog @hellotherehoneybee @goldenlilyz @strapsforyoonie @brilliantlybasicb @itsrapmonstanotdancemonsta @ratking101 @butterflylion @swanqook @jaiuneamesolitaiire @cultleaderyoongi @honeybeesrec @crzybtslove @bangtansbun @snaconakookie @bookoffracturedescapes @seoulgotmysoul @tae165 @jimintulips @korkanswers @softwithbubbles @hosucki @sayanne @heyitsbreeeeee @ladymidnightt @thecityrain @isimyazaki @crackhead1-800 @sailor-moons-butt @honeyoongles @neptu-pysch @ashleyjoyx @falsegodtae @osnapjenn @betysotelo18 @mochibabycakes @withlovestudyblr @hear-me-growl @dee-ehn @jeonkoookiee @comingjimin @purpleheartarmi @dammit-jjk @mermaid-vader @karissacranley @neptunejjk
#bangtanhq#do it again sm au#yoongi smut#yoongi imagine#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#yoongi#yoongi reaction#yoongi fic#yoongi sm au#min yoongi#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#jung hoseok#park jimin#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#namjoon#jin#hoseok#jimin#taehyung#jungkook#namjin#jikook#bts social media au#bts sm au#bts imagine#bts smut
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Tagged by @lotzzoforangezoutside and @thatfragilecapricorn30 to get to know 9 people better - thanks 💕
favorite color: magenta - I’ve got an appointment tomorrow to get my hair cut (for the first time since the pandemic started, its way too long!) and dyed pink 😃
currently reading: And Death Shall Have No Dominion for txf fanfic book club although unfortunately I can make the discussion this week
last song: I’m staying with family this week and my uncle sang a parody song set to the tune of Maria from West Side Story yesterday so now Maria is stuck in my head 😆
last series: The Chair - I thought it was just ok, but I did enjoy the DD cameo
last movie: Edge of Seventeen
sweet, savory or spicy: Spicy! Although honestly all of them together
craving: coffee
tea or coffee: coffee
currently working on: I just finished my season 8 rewatch artwork woohoo! I’m working on my season wrap up posts.
tagging: @smalldisbeliever @darwin-xf @renardmuldrake1013 @agirlcallednarelle @b0oker18 @beeyond-the-sea @samanthamulder @pottcdplantt @edierone (if you want to, no pressure!)
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A Night to Remember
“You didn’t have to.” Their shoulders bumped into one another as they strolled the halls of Masyaf. Their footfalls echoed off the stone, and Altair wrapped an arm around her. Public displays of affection were often reserved for the shadows, so she enjoyed him making the evening special.
“For a night like this?” Altair rose a brow, nestling close. The evening air was warm with a slight chilly breeze. He had gone all out for their three-month anniversary. Face and robes were washed, weapons were away, he’d shaved, and she knew he’d combed and oiled the curls hiding under his hood. “Just you and I tonight. No work, no troubles, no Assassins.” Altair grinned and she laughed swatting his silliness.
“You know I don’t mind. I knew what I was getting into when I let you court me.”
“Let me?” Altair poked her side and kissed her neck. “That’s not how I remember it. Besides, I’m about to give you the best date of your life. I’m surprised you’re not showing more excitement.”
“Oh.” She grinned, “You’re getting my hopes up.” They held hands leaving the courtyard. “Where to? The tavern?”
“Yes, get your hopes up.” Altair looked over his shoulder before standing behind her, wrapping his arms around her, and burying his face in her neck. Planting a kiss there, he whispered, “I’ll always deliver, or catch you if you fall. I love you.”
Resting her head back, she kissed the tip of his nose. “I love you too.”
Remaining like so, they continued their walk, but instead of walking into the village, Altair lead her to the stables. “Now, you’re going to have to trust me for this part.”
She’d never ridden on a horse before, but it was less terrifying sitting in front. He kept his arms around her as he guided the horse out of their home and into the starry night. The skies were swirls of velvet blues and purples, and they reached their destination. It was a larger town, bigger than she’d ever been in before.
Dinners were being cooked, and she put her nose up and hummed. Kissing her quickly, Altair slid off the horse and lead it. “Altair,” she hummed, “that smells amazing.”
Looking over his shoulder, he flashed her a dazzling smile. “I’m glad you like it. That’s where we’re going.” All was well until they’d entered and were seated. Altair tensed when he saw them, men he’d had a run in with before. He hoped they didn’t remember him. They were drunk when they assaulted that woman and Altair had stopped them, and so he hoped the drink had blurred their vision. Unfortunately, that was not the case. When he and his love sat, Altair pat his pockets and frowned.
“Habibi, is something the matter?” She asked, concern coloring her beautiful face.
Kissing her hands, Altair sighed, “I think I forgot the coin purse with the horse. I’ll have to run out and fetch it.”
“Oh, I’ll get it.” She kissed his hands and got up. “Could use a stretch from all that riding.”
“I love you.” Altair smiled sweetly, and when she walked out the door, he eyed the men. The fight was on.
The first leap and threw hot tea at him. Ducking this, Altair braced himself for a tackle. He caught the first man’s waist and jabbed his elbow into his ribs before rolling, grabbing a tea pot, and smashing it on the second’s head. Ringing filled everyone’s ears, confusing them, and he threw the now flat tin at the first man’s head. Those two fell. The fourth tackled him, raising a fist, but Altair caught his neck with his legs and twisted. The man’s hands clawed at his throat, his face turning bluer. Squeezing his thighs together, Altair rolled and grabbed the nearest object to throw at the fourth man. As luck would have it, it was a chicken.
Confused, the man caught it and stared at it a moment, as if he didn’t believe a cooked chicken sat in his hands, then he heard a snap and looked to see his friend fall and Altair spring. He remembered nothing more.
The fifth and sixth men had time to grab proper weapons, knives and forks, and so Altair was wary. The one with a knife rushed him, and Altair leapt. He landed on his back and kicked his head before sparring with the fork-wielder. He snapped his elbow and twisted his hand until the fork dropped. A roar went up, and Altair looked to see the knife man charging. He pushed the fork man to him and leapt back. The two fell to the floor with a crash and lay there.
The rest of the room stared, and Altair waved. The owner thanked him, as those thugs had been trouble for them before, and offered Altair anything. Altair took their food to go and paid for it.
By the time she returned, Altair pushed through the door and gave her a flimsy excuse that the place was closing early but he’d gotten their food. “What happened to your coin purse?”
“It was in my other pocket.” He explained.
Dinner was set under the night sky, and the stars their company as they spoke about life. Spicy meats and sweet treats warmed their bellies and powered their smiles. They kissed and touched the night away and Altair wrapped her in a blanket. She rested her head on his chest, listening to his beating heart, and they remained there until sleep tugged on their bones and the night air left them wanting for their bed.
“I’ll grab the horse.” Altair wrapped her in the blanket and left her giggling.
“I can walk, you know.”
Kissing her forehead, Altair’s breath fanned across her face. “Not tonight.” He kissed her nose, her eyelids, and her lips.
“Altair!” She laughed, and he kissed her again. He loved that sound.
“What?”
“The horse?”
“Oh, must have been distracted.” With a final kiss, he set off to retrieve the horse from the well. However, when he reached it, it wasn’t there. Knowing it was a good beast and wasn’t known to wander off, Altair followed its tracks and found many more surrounding it. Stolen! Cursing his luck, Altair jogged after them, knowing they hadn’t had made it far.
At the outskirts of the city, was the horse. Neighing against the man tugging it. Good girl, Altair thought and ran full force. There were only five of them, and he knew he’d had worse odds. Dropping to his knees, Altair took the first man off his knees. He fell to the ground, throwing sand into the air. The others stared, not understanding what was happening, when Altair leapt off the fallen man and kneed the second in the face. The remaining three leapt at once, and Altair did the single smartest thing he’d done his entire life.
He grabbed the reigns of his trusted steed and bolted. Their cries of rage echoed behind him, and he pressed into the night. She was stargazing when he rode in, and she could read his face. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” Altair took both her hands and helped her on the horse. “Don’t worry about it, but we have to get going.” Once hoisted, he hopped behind her and urged the horse on.
“Altair, you can tell me.” She turned her head and kissed his chin. “You had that same face at the restaurant.”
“What face?” He asked innocently, “I’m just handsome, habibi.” He looked down at her and found she was no amused. Looking past his shoulder, her eyes widened, and he knew he was exposed. “I can explain.” Quickly, she picked herself up and faced him. Altair’s face went red, and he cleared his throat. “Hot, but this isn’t the time.” With a roll of her eyes, she dug into her shawl and produced a throwing knife.
Pressing against him, she whispered in his ear. “Stay steady.” And aimed. Altair gulped, feeling very flustered suddenly. A whizz past his ear and a thud sounded behind him. “Also hot,” Altair breathed into her ear, feeling very bothered. He licked his lips and she threw the second and third. When their foes fell, Altair slowed the horse and wrapped his arms around her.
Growling in her ear, kissing her neck, he was smitten. “Where did that come from?” Nipping back at him, she adjusted herself to turn around and stopped her, “Wait, maybe we shouldn’t stop this position just yet.”
“Had you asked me for help, I would’ve helped you, Altair.” She frowned, and Altair found the moment fleeing. “No weapons? Just you? That was reckless.”
“Habibi,” Altair took her hands, changing his tune completely. “I’m sorry. I wanted to give you a night without fighting and violence. I thought that if I acted like a normal man, it would be a normal night.”
“But you didn’t have to.” She retorted, “You’re not a normal man, Altair, and I didn’t fall in love with you for being a normal man. You’re more an enough for me, I just want you to be true to yourself.”
“But…” Altair flustered over his words before finally confessing, “what if that’s not enough?” Searching her eyes, he grew very somber. “What if the action and adventure is fun but you’re ready to settle down and I can’t. What if something happens that takes you away from me, or you’ve had enough and you leave and…” On and on he went until he’d worked himself up to quite a fit.
Before he could think of any worse situations, she took his face into his hands and he closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath to control himself, she waited until he felt strong and he told her this by squeezing her hands. He did that sometimes, worry himself into fits of things that have yet to be or never would. “Altair, I love you. You’ve always been enough for me, not matter what stage you’re at. We’re both Assassins, we both know how the life is and agreed that it wouldn’t stop us. I’ve never wanted a normal man, or a normal life. If I did, then that would be the things I pursued. As it is,” his golden eyes found hers and he rested his forehead on her, peering into her soul, clinging on to her words. “I love you. For all the good and all the bad, and I want nothing more. Now, you’re going to be honest with me going forward, or I’ll be very upset.”
Altair sighed, “Yes, habibi, whatever you desire.”
“Good.” She gave him a kiss and began flipping herself around. “Now let’s go home. Bed is calling.”
Altair yawned, “You’re right. It’s pretty late, isn’t it.”
Looking over her shoulder, a mischievous twinkle entered her eye. “Oh, that’s not what I intended to use it for.”
Altair gulped and pushed the horse into a run, making her laugh as he did so.
#altair x reader#altair ibn la'ahad x reader#altair ibn-la'ahad#assassin's creed#assassin's creed revelations
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1d50 Fantasy Rumors
In a bathhouse to the far south, there is a well that grants wishes to those who please the guardian Naiad.
The Lord of a nearby country has set an enormous bounty on the head of a wicked bandit chief. However the old folk whisper the bandit is actually the true King, having been spirited away in the night when he was but a small boy.
The dwarves of the Jarring Peaks only surface mine and refuse to go underground. Something terrible drove them from the deeper mines generations ago, and still rests there today.
A foreign dignitary repeatedly insulted the Governor, however this is because by custom speaking praise of someone invites upon them ill luck. An international incident is looming.
In the Hinterlands, defeating someone in a fair duel entitles you to their lands or their lives. The duels, however, have incredibly complex rules that are nearly impenetrable to outsiders.
In the eastern seaport, the bay is supposedly teaming with mermaids. Dangling your toes off the docks is a sure way to get their attention, for better or worse.
There exists a flower that blooms once a century in the depths of the Sparkleberry Swamp that can cure any illness, no matter how dreadful. A tribe of lizard folk have been protecting the site for countless generations.
The mausoleum in the center of the city’s graveyard refuses to remain sealed, the bricks always burst outward in the night. Nothing, however, has been seen going in or out of it.
The old hag who sells flowers in the market place is in fact a powerful witch, waiting for a prophecy to fulfill itself.
The old orphanage at the edge of town doesn’t house real children, but changelings who were discovered in the crib.
Gert the Butcher once got into regular rows with his brother Bert. Bert vanished a few weeks ago and Gert had a sale on delicious sausages.
During a New Moon, the tides dip low revealing an isthmus connecting to Finnegan’s Atoll. The very best pearls can be found in reefs, it is a race to find them first.
Hjalmar Bjornson defeated the evil conjuror Illhugi and took residence in his tower. Recently, however, dark things have been coming from the tower again.
Cattle has been disappearing recently from local fields, a crime that the thieves’ guild refuses to claim. The town fool claims they are being abducted by invisible creatures for their heinous rituals.
The baron’s daughter is set to marry the heir of a neighboring fiefdom. Her maidservant, however, claims she plans to elope with the captain of the Guard, Providence Blanchard.
The Gleaming Desert gets so hot during the summer months that whole areas melt into glass. A local alchemist thinks if conditions are right a huge and perfect lens could be created.
The White Forest is so called for the strange, color draining sickness that affects the animals within. Farmer Gregor claims, however, to have seen a giant black stag with glowing rainbow antlers.
A pair of river traders have brought a new, powerful and addictive medicine which they initially gave away for free. However prices have risen and addicts have taken to increasingly aggressive acts of robbery to fuel their addictions.
Gloria Haversham is a tinker who travels the countryside in her one donkey cart. People say she can fix absolutely anything, but her prices are never in mere coins.
Word on the street is that the fireworks prepared for the New Years celebration have been tampered with and their glowing bursts will in fact place a hex on the city.
A new tattoo artist from the far west has set up shop, creating beautiful works of art on their patron’s skin. They’re almost too lifelike.
Parents always told their children that the Weeping Man would take away naughty children on full moons, but recently children have actually started going missing and the bogeyman has turned into hysteria.
The Wizard-Archeologist Philipa Saint-John claims there is a lost ziggurat buried in the permafrost of the Karngorm Tundra, she just needs the funding and manpower to uncover it.
Jenny Greenteeth has haunted the swamp since time out of mind and the locals now live in a tenuous peace with her. However a rich merchant has brought in foreign workers to fill the swamp and build a road.
The Count’s fortune was read in tea leaves last month. He was so horrified by the prophecy that he banned all fortune tellers and all tea from the county.
A giant hand made of an unknown metal was uncovered by flash floods in the hills.
Migratory patterns have shifted, taking game away from the barony. Something is happening up north that is scaring all the animals away.
The cats hold a monthly sabbath where they make reports to their true master.
The border marauders have been getting more bold after their leader uncovered a trove of strange weapons that fire burning light.
Stay away from the harbor on misty nights, that’s when the ghost ship and her dread captain looks for new crew to take aboard.
13 O’Clock, the Witching Hour, only strikes for those who know to listen for it.
The King in Chains, an especially rowdy tavern, has a terrible rat problem, but for some reason the landlord refuses to do anything about it. He also despises cats.
The Patron Saint of Thieves famously stole themselves right out of the hangman’s noose as they dropped. It is said the holder of that noose cannot be barred by any locked door.
A truly massive thunderhead has been passing back and forth across the plains for weeks without a drop of rain. The locals have taken to calling it the Thunder Anvil.
The city on the other side of the mountain throws a truly spectacular street celebration each year. Its participants, despite the fireworks, feasts, and music are all masked and silent.
A powerful noble was cursed in her youth to never be able to eat the same meal twice. She is elderly now and is desperate for truly exotic ingredients for her increasingly bizarre diet.
The old barrows have always been a haunt of fairies and their mischief was mostly benign. A necromancer recently desecrated those ancient tombs and the fairies have gone berserk.
A travelling circus filled with exotic animals of all kinda passed through last year, however a fire at the big top consumed it. Strange trumpeting and growling are still heard from the village green.
Theodore Goldfinch, the secretary of the magistrate, ran screaming out of the courthouse last week claiming he uncovered a snakeman conspiracy.
“The Slithery-Dee came out the sea, he ate all the others but he didn’t eat me,” claimed the only survivor of a fishing village, found covered in blood and holding a notched whaling hook.
There is a deaf musician who wanders the south who knows a tune terribly sad that those that hear it die of a broken heart. They say the musician is in fact a master assassin.
Giant petroglyphs cut across the shrublands where the sheep graze. The wizards claim that the petroglyphs have actually been walking across the land at geologic speed.
Everyone ties a ribbon with wishes on it to the Angel Oak, hoping they’d come true. Sometimes, they actually do!
Keep a ring of iron in your left pocket when you travel the road at night, otherwise the Wyld Hunt will turn you to a beast and hunt you till morning.
Anyone who dies without fulfilling a contract is damned to rise against to complete it. It is important to burn or transfer contracts to avoid terrible revenants.
After a long bender that the PC barely remembers, their wanted poster has been pasted across the land for the kidnapping of a rich silk merchant’s son.
A bat covered in gold dust was found in the church’s belfry, setting off a rush searching all the local caves for a rich vein.
A strange light was seen pouring out of the canyon in the night and no one who has gone to investigate has returned.
Sir Zoray and his band of knights were tasked by the High Priestess to seek a holy artifact to cure a terrible wasting illness. They were last spotted spending their gold the the most expensive brothel in an eastern city.
A wingless wyrm was spotted swimming through the Frothy Run River and coins of foreign make were later found on the pebbly shore.
#d20#rpg#dnd#dungeons and dragons#fantasy#sword and sorcery#campaigns#fairy tale#mythology#fable#dungeon master#dm#game master#gm#hackmaster#magic item#magic weapon#magic ring#spell book#d12#d10#d8#d6#d4#d100#dice
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