#i have a few fics i never finished after all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

morgana-larkin · 3 days

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Ok for the next prompt, the person asked for me to post it separately instead of with the prompt to not spoil anything, so I’ll post the fic and I’ll post the prompt a few minutes after. So pretty much the summary is: The Abbott crew tries to set you up on dates with men, Melissa finds someone to set you up with around the same time she catches feelings for you. Unfortunately for Melissa, you seem to actually like your date she set you up with. But maybe there’s something that Melissa doesn’t know about you and your date…

I have no clue about the title, that was what my brain came up with on 2 hours of sleep. I may or may not post a part 2 with jealous smut. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: so this got the most votes in the poll. I literally started writing this, Mine part 5 and my first Marilyn x reader fic and didn’t know which one to finish lol. My ADD got the best of me. So I’m almost done Mine and the Marilyn x reader fic so keep an eye out! Also for the Marilyn x reader fic, anyway want to be added to the taglist? My current one is my Melissa and Chessy taglist that I will not put with my other character fics.

I Feel A Rainbow In You

Warnings: jealous Mel, very clueless reader, angst

Words: 4.1k

“No women? Nobody else? Ever?” Melissa says.

After a bit more questioning, Janine gets a bit upset and walks out. Before Gregory follows her out, you pipe up.

“I don’t get what the big deal is? She has someone, I’ve never been in a relationship.” You say and they all turn to look at you in shock.

Gregory follows Janine out and everyone stares at you in shock.

“Girl you’ve never been in a relationship? Like ever?” Ava says and you sigh.

“Nope, never.” You say and you see Melissa raise her eyebrows.

“Dear, is there a reason you haven’t had a relationship?” Barb asks and that’s when Janine and Gregory walk back in. Gregory told Janine what you said and how everyone looked at you in shock.

“I just haven’t had someone interested in me to date me.” You tell her and you see Melissa looking at you with sympathy.

“What if we helped?” Ava pipes up and you whip your head at her. “We can set you on dates and help you find Mr right or at least someone to start your dating path.” Ava adds and you sigh, finding no way out of this, you agree.

So everyone seems to find a nice man to set you up with and you’re not even remotely interested in them. Then Melissa says that one of her sisters has a friend who agreed to go on a date with you. You put your forehead on the table and slam it a few times. Melissa looks at you and she thinks it’s cute and she giggles. She catches your forehead and brings your head back up.

“Hon, if this date doesn’t go well then we’ll give you a break alright?” She says to comfort you as you’ve been on 5 dates this month. You nod your head at her and she rubs your shoulder. You blush a little bit at her touch and go back to eating.

Melissa has been starting to develop a tiny crush on you. She realised it when you went on your last date a few days ago and she got a little jealous. When you texted her after the date saying there wasn’t going to be a second, she breathed a sigh of relief. You and Melissa became friends rather quickly, you were part of one the people that started with Janine and Jacob and part of the few that remained. When you saw Melissa take an interest in you and no one else that was new, it made you feel really special. Instead of forming a friendship with Janine and Jacob and others that were new, you formed one with Melissa and Barb, mostly Melissa.

On Saturday, you went out with the man that Melissa set you up with, Thomas.

Melissa gets a text from you after the date saying there’s a second one and she feels a stab in her stomach. She obviously was the supportive friend and told you that that’s great.

On Monday, everyone was asking how it went and then there was more questions once you said that you and Thomas were going out again on Friday right after school. Melissa stayed quiet throughout the entire conversation, just kept stabbing her meal and taking angry bites. Everyone noticed this and didn’t say anything, the only one who didn’t notice was you. You were either talking and turned away from her or on your phone texting Thomas. You and Thomas exchanged numbers on your date so that you can keep in contact during the week.

During the week, you and Thomas kept texting and it was driving Melissa up the wall. Not only did you find someone to keep going on dates with, but it was taking her time with you away.

On Wednesday during lunch, you and Melissa were talking. Melissa was giving you her full attention and taking in your every word, and smiling at you as you were talking about your favourite tv show. You then get a text notification from your phone and you pause and look at it.

“Oh sorry, it’s Thomas.” You tell Melissa and her smile drops. She silently stews as she sees you smiling while texting Thomas. You then laugh at something he says and Melissa can’t handle it. She quickly packs her things up and storms out of there.

You watch her walk out of there and you look at Barb for an answer for Melissa’s behaviour and she just shrugs. Everyone feels bad for Melissa, she has a crush on you and it’s at the same time you start dating someone.

On Thursday morning, you burst in to tell Melissa about the newest episode of your favourite show. A smile makes it way to her face and like always, gives you her full attention, even if she hasn’t taken a sip of her coffee yet. She puts her elbow on the table and her head in her hand and stares at you, almost with heart eyes. You then get a text and sees it’s from Thomas.

“It’s from Thomas, he hasn’t said where he’s taking me but says to dress kinda fancy but not like rich fancy.” You say to them and you have no idea what he means.

“Oh girl, he might be taking you to a club.” Ava says, interested in the conversation.

“Oh, well I did mention that I like dancing so it could be.” You say and you don’t notice Melissa hiding her anger while she taps a big sip of coffee. You turn to Melissa and tilt your head. “Melissa, what do you think I should wear? You’ve seen my wardrobe.” You ask her and she turns to look at you and her mind comes up blank.

“I think just wear what you want, you look beautiful no matter what you wear.” She responds with and you blush.

“You’re very sweet.” You tell her and she smiles at you.

“So tell me more about the episode.” Melissa tells you, wanting your attention back on her. She goes back to watching you with a smile as you continue talking. Barb looks at Melissa and prays that this ends well. She knows how Melissa can get when jealous and doesn’t want you or her getting hurt.

In the break room on Friday morning, Barb and Melissa were talking before you got there.

“Melissa dear, you should tell her how you feel, who knows she could be into women as well.” Barb tells her and the trio hears it and agrees.

“And what if she’s not? I’m not going to risk ruining the friendship over my feelings for her.” Melissa says with a pout.

“But Melissa, it’s hurting you. Everytime she gets a text from Thomas, you get jealous. And at some point she’s gonna notice.” Barb says and Melissa is about to say something when you walk in. Her jaw drops as she takes in your appearance. You come in with a black wavy skirt on that stops mid thigh and a dark purple crop top that clings to your body in the best way. The crop top isn’t too short that it’s inappropriate for school but can still see some skin from your belly. You finish the look with some black heels and black tights. You get a whistle from Jacob and Ava and you do a little spin.

“Daaammmn girl, you got that body working for you!” Ava exclaims as she dumps a bunch of sugar in her coffee.

“Thanks! Thomas is picking me up right after school so this is my outfit.” You say as you sit at the table with Barb and Melissa.

“You look wonderful y/n! Thomas will think so too!” Janine says and everyone else but Melissa agrees.

Melissa was shamelessly checking you out until you mentioned Thomas. When you did the little spin, she licked her lips.

“What do you think Melissa? You think it’s good?” You ask her, you value her opinion the most.

“Ya, like I said yesterday, you look beautiful no matter what.” She says and you blush.

“Thank you.” You tell her with a smile.

After school on Friday, you and Melissa are walking out while in conversation. Melissa nudges your shoulders softly as a response to what you said as you walk out of the building. You then see Thomas there to pick you up and you wave at him.

“Hey Thomas!” You say and make your way over to him. “Oh this is Melissa.”

“Hey! There’s the girl of the hour!” He says to you. “Wow you look amazing!” He says as he takes in your appearance. “Hi Melissa, it’s nice to finally meet you. Your sister and y/n here have talked about you.” He says to her.

“Nice to meet you too.” Melissa says with the best smile she can force out of herself. She wasn’t going to ruin this for you, she was going to be as supportive as she can, even if she has to fake a bunch of smiles. Inside she was seething though and it may have come out a little bit in her tone. She didn’t realise it but she was glaring at him every time she looked at him. You didn’t notice it but Thomas sure did and inside he was smirking.

“So y/n, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out on Sunday?” Melissa says and turns to you. “I’ve been forgetting to ask you.” In reality, she didn’t forget, she wasn’t originally going to hang out with you but after meeting Thomas, she feels like she has too. She wants to spend more time with you while she can.

“Oh sure, I’m not doing anything on Sunday. What time?” You say with a smile and she smiles back at you.

“Is noon ok with you?” She asks and you nod.

“Noon sounds perfect.” You tell her and she blushes.

“Alright well I’ll see you then.” She says and waves to you then goes to her car. While she turns to go to her car, she spares a glare at Thomas. You get into Thomas’s car and he drives out of the parking lot:

“Girl, she was jealous!” He tells you and you look at him and scoff.

“How would you know that? You barely even know her.” You tell him.

“You might not have seen it but she was glaring at me the entire time. Do you know how much control it took me to not jump up and down for you?” He says and you roll your eyes. “Come on, you like her and she obviously had feelings for you.” He says to you.

“What if you’re wrong?” You tell him.

“Well how about we keep up this pretend dating situation going on for a bit longer. Maybe she’ll actually confess.” He tells you.

“I don’t know.” You tell him.

On your first date with him, you guys were talking and confessed that you only went on it because of coworkers. You both also confessed that you’re both gay and haven’t come out to your coworkers yet. The entire week you’ve both been texting about your crushes, you about Melissa and Thomas about a guy named Bobby.

“Just a bit longer ok. And besides, I don’t think she was forgetting to tell you about wanting to hang out on Sunday. I think she thought of it after seeing me.” He tells you and you look at him. “I’m just saying.” He tells you and you snort.

He brings you both to a gay bar and you watch a drag show there. You both end up having a really good time. You may not have a relationship yet but you got a new friend out of this that you can be yourself with.

On Sunday you video chat Thomas around 10, you’re wondering what to wear to see Melissa.

“Just go with something similar to what you wore on Friday. Girl, she was checking you out hard.” He tells you dramatically and you roll your eyes with a smile. “Although if you want to be a little spicy, wear a shorter skirt and shorter crop top. Flash her some cleavage, she’ll go crazy.” He tells you and you smile. It wasn’t a bad idea, maybe you’ll see if she’s actually interested in you.

You end up wearing a pleather skirt and red crop top where it shows some cleavage. You see her wearing leather pants and red a lot so maybe if she sees you in something similar then it’ll catch her eye. You top it up with tights and heels that stop just below your knee. You show Thomas the final product and do a little spin. He claps at how you look with a big smile and does a little cat call whistle.

“Womaniser here, you go get your girl.” He says to you. You see the time and say goodbye to Thomas and go to Melissa’s house. You stopped to get her her favourite donuts from her place and then arrive at her place a couple minutes before noon. You grabbed the donuts and your purse and then go and knock on her door. Melissa opens it and she goes to say hi but then sees your outfit and she freezes. You look sexy to her and she unconsciously licks her lips. The action isn’t lost on you but still not enough proof that she likes you. She lets you in and you give her the box of donuts and she opens it and lights up.

“Omg! You got me my favourite donuts! Thanks hon.” She says and gives you a hug. You lean into her touch a little bit during the hug and you feel all warm inside and you have a smile on your face.

You two spend the day talking about anything and you munch on some snacks after you both finish the donuts, she of course offered you half. Melissa is having a great time listening to you talk and she never asks once how your date on Friday went, she doesn’t want to know.

She talks to you at some point about which one of her siblings has annoyed her during the week. It seems her second youngest sibling Toni has annoyed her the most this week. You giggle when she goes on about it and she blushes at you giggling and smiles. She finds you so adorable and she wishes you were hers and not with Thomas. She likes to think that the fact that you haven’t brought him up is a good sign. Melissa invites you to stay for dinner and you always accept.

“Hell ya, I would never miss an opportunity to eat your food.” You tell her and she beams.

She makes you your favourite Italian meal and you have a huge smile when you realise it. She went out and got the ingredients for it this morning, hoping to make it for you since it’ll make you happy. She gets butterflies in her stomach when she sees your big smile and how happy you were and she wants to do this more often. She wants to spend days like this with you more, and she wants to be able to lean in and kiss you when you’re this happy.

You watch a movie while you eat dinner and you let her choose the movie. She ends up choosing a horror film, knowing you like to cuddle into her during them as you get scared. You groan at her movie choice and she smirks at you.

“I’m sure it won’t be as bad as the last one.” She tells you, the last time you hid your face in her neck as you got really scared. Melissa knows it’s as scary as the last one but wants to be able to hold you again and have your face hiding in her neck. When you both finish dinner, it got to the point where the scary scenes were starting and you curl up beside her and she puts an arm around your shoulders. She sighs in content and rubs your arm a bit.

You whine a bit at a scary part and she brings you closer to her and you let her. At another point you jump and hide your face in her neck and she smiles while stroking your hair.

“It’s alright, I got you. You’re safe.” She tells you when you whimper in her neck. When the movie is over you don’t bother to move from your head on her neck and she doesn’t say anything. She just continues stroking your hair and you end up falling asleep on her. She hears your soft snores and she tucks the hair in your face behind your ear. She puts both her arms around you in a hug and sighs.

“Oh how I wish you were mine y/n.” She tells your sleeping form. She ends up putting a blanket on you two and manoeuvres you both so that you can both fall asleep on the couch. She doesn’t want to let you go and she falls asleep with you curled up in her arms, she kisses your head before she falls asleep and then has one of the best sleeps in her life.

Her happiness crashes down on her on Monday during lunch. You and Melissa are talking when Thomas comes in to surprise you and attempts to make Melissa jealous to get her to admit her feelings.

“Hey y/n!” He tells you and you turn around to look at him in shock.

You mouth ‘what the hell are you doing here?’ To him and he just comes over to you.

“I wanted to see you today and got the opportunity so I came to surprise you.” He says with a big smile.

Melissa feels her rage increase by the second. Thomas spares a glance at Melissa and sees the anger radiating off of her. Everyone tries to keep Melissa from doing anything by talking to Thomas to keep his attention off of you. Janine ends up doing most of the talking with him. His attention however turns to you and includes you in the conversation. Melissa finally snaps and storms over to put her lunch in the fridge and slams the door, then she storms out of the break room without saying a word.

Thomas turns to you with a smirk and you give him a glare. “What are you waiting for? Go and get your girl and calm her down before she retrieves her bat and hits my deeply moisturised face.” He says to you and everyone looks at you guys in shock. You hide your face in your hands before Barb pipes up.

“What’s going on here?” She asks and you sigh before turning to everyone.

“I’m gay alright.” You say and everyone gasps.

“So am I.” Thomas admits after you.

“We haven’t been dating, we’re friends and he took me to go see a drag show on Friday.” You tell them all. “Also, what the hell are you doing here?” You turn to him.

“Melissa got jealous, I told you she was jealous when she saw me on Friday.” He tells you and you sigh and cross your arms, he puts his hand up in surrender. “Hey, you wanted to know if she liked you back and girl, she got the feels for you.” He tells you and you miss everyone’s grin when he admits you like Melissa.

You go to find Melissa and when you get to her classroom, you find it locked and you go and knock on it. “Melissa, you in there?” You knock a couple of times and no one opens it so you assume Melissa isn’t in there and you go and check other places she could be.

Melissa was inside her classroom but chooses to ignore your knocking and just stews in anger in her classroom. She realises she can’t be around now if she reacts like that whenever Thomas is around. She doesn’t want to admit her feelings either so she chooses to do everything to avoid and ignore you, starting immediately.

You don’t get the chance to talk to her for the rest of the day, and at the end of the day you go to her classroom only to discover she’s already gone, she always waits for you. You run into Barb and she tells you to just give Melissa some space as she’s dealing with something. The something is her feelings for you but Barb doesn’t tell you that.

You take Barb’s advice and give Melissa space. You don’t try to start conversations with her, you sit with the trio at lunch instead, and you don’t bother to go see her at her classroom after school. This goes on for almost 2 weeks and you’ve had enough.

After school on Friday you go to her house, you knock on the door and she doesn’t answer. You then do insist knocking until she answers,

“Ok I’m coming I’m coming!” You hear from inside and then the door opens. Melissa sees you standing there and she’s shocked, you were the last person she expected to see. “Y/n.” She says softly and surprised.

“What the hell is going on with you?!?” You ask, a bit angry and upset with her. You see Melissa looks stunned at your mini outburst but she doesn’t say anything. “I mean we’re really good friends and all of a sudden you start ignoring me like I’m a fucking plague and I don’t even know why. You act the same with everyone else though, everyone except me! So what the fuck Melissa?” You add and she looks down for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry.” Is all she says.

“You’re sorry? I don’t want an apology Melissa, I want an explanation.” You tell her and cross your arms. She steps aside and lets you in, she’d rather do this inside instead of at her door where people could watch. You go inside and stand beside her couch. “So? What’s going on with you?” You ask her and she cautiously steps closer to you.

“I’m jealous ok.” She says and you look at her with wide eyes.

“Jealous? Of who?” You ask her.

“Thomas.” Is all she says and looks at your reaction and you’re surprised.

“Of Thomas? Why would you be jealous of Thomas?” You ask her. You know that Thomas thinks Melissa likes you and you have the idea that maybe she is but don’t want to get your hopes up.

“Because I have feelings for you and you’re dating him.” She says like it’s obvious and you gasp.

“You have feelings for me?” You ask her and she nods. “Melissa, Thomas and I aren’t dating, we’re both gay.” You tell her and she looks at you stunned.

“What?”

“Ya, we’re both gay. Wait, Barb didn’t tell you? The day that Thomas came, we told everyone we’re both gay after you stormed out.” You tell her.

“She didn’t tell me. She did try and push me to talk to you though for these past 2 weeks.” She says with a small smile.

“Melissa, I have feelings for you too. When I hang out with Thomas or text him, I mostly talk about you, and he talks about his crush on this guy named Bobby.” You tell her and she sucks in a breath.

“You like me?” She asks and you nod.

“How could I not like you? I mean you’re the whole package. You’re short tempered, big heart, amazing cook, you’re ginger, into women, and also drop dead gorgeous.” You say and walk closer with every word until you’re right in front of her.

You can see her blush at your words and looks down at the ground for a second then looks back up at you, with a smile on her face. “You forgot one.” She tells you and you tilt your head at her. “You forgot that I’m crazy about you.” She tells you and you smile. “You know I’m surprised that you’ve never had a relationship before.”

“Oh ya? And why’s that?” You ask and she takes your hands in hers.

“Because, you’re kind, gentle, stubborn, into women as well, stunning, and you love cuddles when watching a horror movie which is cute.” She tells you.

“Hmm, did you pick horror movies just to cuddle with me?” You ask her and she nods proudly. “I should have known.” You say and lean into her and cup her cheek. “You forgot one as well.” You tell her as she leans into you. “I’m crazy about you.” You tell her and she blushes then she closes the gap.

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obae-me · 2 days

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A Taste of His Own Medicine- Simeon

Guess who's back, back again, back with sick-fic posts again! Sorry that it's taken me a god-awful amount of time to post an update after my little teaser. Life often has a way of trying to ruin things, but I'll be damned if I don't manage to claw my way out of the depths to finish my works one inching crawl at a time! Anyways, I pray that this was worth the wait! Please, enjoy!

Peace. These last few days, the whole of the Devildom seemed to be experiencing a lull of sorts. Curses, vengeful items, creatures from another world, monsters, mania, and overall magical mayhem felt as if they were in hibernation. Or at least giving you a wide berth. Or perhaps the brothers were repaying your sympathies, beating back problems with several well-intentioned sticks. A much needed break in your opinion. The stars shone brighter, and you had never slept deeper. It was quite like being on vacation despite you still spending most of your time holed up in the House of Lamentation. Even the brothers appeared to be quarreling less than usual. You’d even be tempted to say they were getting along. Yes…there was nothing exactly like this feeling of peace. You continued to rub the towel against the back of your head and neck as you moved down the hall, feeling nice and refreshed after a calming shower. It was rather late into the evening. Dinner was over with and everyone in the House had mostly moved into their respective rooms to get ready for the night. The last week or so had been so normal and blissful, you had completely forgotten about the several ‘events that shall-not-be-named’; a cheap title coined by the brothers to stave off embarrassment. One which you gladly accepted to avoid the risk of superstitiously summoning more incidents. There was something about fine health that you had forgotten to feel grateful for. In fact, you were quite excited to have another moment where you could just jump straight into bed, kick back, and enjoy the silence of the night.

So, with a gentle push of your door, you waltzed happily inside your room.

“Ah, there you are.”

The random sound of another voice had your muscles all jolt. You clutched at non-existent pearls (the towel would have to serve as ample replacement) as you caught your breath. A white head of hair and a small blond one. Two members of a home different than yours. Not exactly undesirable faces, but definitely unexpected ones. They both were sitting on your bed, feeling right at home as they set up a movie on your television, already in pajamas. As you raised an eyebrow, your eyes wandered down to two packed day-bags.

“I… Welcome?” There was clear confusion in your voice as you addressed them. Not to be rude or anything, but this was…your room as so many people seemed to forget. Maybe you should look into getting a plaque for your door… Plus, it wasn’t quite like these two to just show up unannounced. Solomon maybe, but Luke? Did they forget to invite you to a sleepover? A late-night tea party perhaps? The other human was hard at work getting himself settled and relaxed. On the other hand, the angel was avoiding your gaze a little, acting more fidgety than normal. “You both are here…why exactly?” you couldn’t help but ask.

At your question, the two guests looked at each other for a moment, like they were trying to determine who would answer. Both of them were stubbornly staring into each other’s souls. With a little bit of irritation, you cleared your throat, glaring at the more grown of the bunch. The sorcerer glanced back up at you and conceded. A little shrug was followed by a more slumped position as he leaned back against your pillows and started the show. To others, he would’ve come off as unbothered, but luckily you had come to know him better than that. There was a subtle frustrated tone to his voice, his limbs a bit stiff like he didn’t want to be resting, and his eyes seemed to be unfocused. There was something on his mind that was upsetting him, so his actions were attempting to overcompensate for his worries. “Let’s just say that the Hall is a little bit…overtaken at the moment.”

With a shake of your head, you sighed. One side shuffle brought you to stand in front of the screen in an attempt to get him to look at you. “That doesn’t tell me much of anything.” Begrudgingly, the movie was paused.

Then the angel spoke up. Luke stuttered at first, but then managed to find his words. A pillow was held tightly in his lap as he clutched it for comfort. “It’s Simeon! He- He’s been cursed!”

Panic seemed to flood your body. Your eyes went wide and your jaw opened just enough to prepare yourself for demanding more information. Cursed? Was it dangerous? Was he in trouble? Why were they both just sitting around when you all could be helping?! Or was it so bad that they had to escape to safety? However, before you lost yourself to stress, Solomon raised a hand. “Not a curse.” He rubbed away an itch at the end of his nose with one finger. “At least, I’m fairly positive it’s not.”

Luke didn’t appear entirely convinced. “But he’s…” Before finishing his thought, he just went silent. It was clear he was very concerned for his guardian, but didn’t know how to go about fixing it.

“In my expert opinion,” the human continued, “I believe he’s simply not feeling well.” A bitter sensation crossed over your tongue. “I noticed he was acting strangely a few days ago, but any time I tried to pry information out of him, he turned me down. And quite cleverly turned my attention elsewhere, might I add.” Familiar actions started to leave an itch in your brain. A creeping sort of dread covered your skin. But, as soon as you started to notice these details, you shook your head, flinging them off of you. Now wasn’t the time to be feeling that way. Solomon continued to explain the situation. “And then he began to…how do I put this? Become rather obsessive.” He narrowed his eyes a little and glanced downwards, looking at nothing in particular. “I didn’t think anything of it at first…” All the sudden, he sighed, his playful mask falling and turning quite somber and serious. “Simeon’s always been caring, clean, and precise, but its been as if those traits have been kicked up to exuberant levels. It started with just some extra angelic doting- you know how he is-, and then just a few hours ago, Simeon took it upon himself to start tearing the entirety of Purgatory Hall apart to deep clean it.”

Luke made a sad sort of sound, one that broke your heart. “We tried to help so it would go faster and be easier, but he wouldn’t let us.”

“Stubbornness isn’t inherently a demonic or mortal trait, it would seem,” Solomon quipped. “I tried talking him into getting some rest, but he didn’t appear to hear me. And I was…dissuaded from casting any spells.”

Two little eyebrows scrunched up in irritation. “No using magic on Simeon! He always tells us that we shouldn’t force someone into doing what they don’t want to do!” But, even as Luke exclaimed it, he couldn’t help but let a bit of shuddering doubt slip into his voice.

“Well…” The immortal man appeared a bit guilty. “I just hope he doesn’t get himself into trouble trying to potentially clean my room…”

That dug in a different sort of fear… You glanced at the both of them and sighed, glancing out the window. Simeon… If he wasn’t feeling well, why was he trying to convince everyone otherwise? Well, the reason why didn’t particularly matter. If this was…him being sick, he needed rest. The angel probably knew that deep down, but maybe it had been too long since he put his needs above anyone else’s. You’d just have to remind him that self-care wasn’t inherently selfishness. Enough of your own self-pity! You had been given enough of a break. Besides, since when did you get the chance to take care of an angel, especially one so kind and lovely at that? Yes! You were back in business! “Alright!” you exclaimed a little too loudly, almost making your guests jump. “Leave him to me!”

Solomon processed your words before he smiled. “I knew we could count on you.” Cheeky little… So that was why they were here in your room and not over at the castle which had enough rooms to house a gala. Ah well, he could be lectured later.

“Try not to destroy my own room while I’m gone…”

“No promises!"

After a short jog- more like a speed walk- you were in front of Purgatory Hall. For some reason, you expected some sort of… cursed aura to spring from the place, but it stood as it normally did. Fingers crossed that the lack of one meant that Simeon had yet to get his hand on any of the myriad of dangerous items Solomon possessed. Hands tucked inside the pockets of your jacket, you approached the front door. Part of you wanted to immediately let yourself in, but you kept yourself restrained. Not only was knocking first good manners, but you also weren’t quite sure of the state Simeon was in. Hopefully an easier one than the brothers had been. Your knuckles drummed the door a few times. There was no answer. You attempted the doorbell next. Aside from the haunting ringing echoing inside, there was nothing… Normally, that would’ve been concerning, but if you tilted your ear near the door, you could clearly hear some ruckus inside. Sounded like the tooth-achingly familiar squeak of furniture being moved across the hardwood floors. Once more you knocked. “Hello? Simeon? Can you hear me?” The following silence spoke volumes. “I’m coming in then,” you warned, giving the angel a few more moments before opening the front door.

Stepping inside the entrance hall, you could feel floods of angelic magic filling the halls, along with the smell of several cleaning products and also…cookies? The sugary scent mingling with the chemically one made your stomach churn a bit. The sight was also rather overwhelming. When Solomon mentioned the Hall being torn apart, you thought perhaps he was being melodramatic. However, one glance from by the door suggested otherwise. Furniture was pushed from their spots and tipped over, paintings were pulled off of walls and laid out on the floor, blankets and towels and sheets and cloths and clothes were hanging to dry on wires that were strung back and forth in zig-zag patterns across the walls. No wonder Solomon and Luke absconded away.

“Simeon?” You called out again, ducking under some of the clothes as you pushed through the rest of the dorm. The sound of rather aggressive cleaning seemed to get louder as you approached the kitchen, the obnoxious noise of clanging silverware making you cringe.

The kitchen was in a rather right state. Cupboard doors thrown open, every single item pulled off the shelves, a worrisome teetering stack of dishes- that already looked clean, mind- piled in the sink. The room was much too bright, your eyes rapidly blinking as your brain mistakenly thought of sunlight. It took you longer than you’d like to admit to remember you were in the Devildom. The more you adjusted your focus, the more it became apparent that Simeon was the source of the radiance. It was hard to see him clearly, worried about the effects staring right at him would have on your vision. You walked further into the kitchen, stepping over several glistening feathers and loose parchment with scribbled works from his next project. Heat radiated out in all directions, feeling as if you were wading through a sauna.

Several times you called out to him, trying to announce your presence but not even getting a huff of acknowledgment from him. In fact, it seemed that he was completely oblivious to anything in general. The only thing he could do was flit about the room in a panicked state, his fingers raw from all the scrubbing and work he was doing. Some kind of stress response? “Simeon!” The voice that trembled its way from your throat was more frightened than you meant it to sound. But it couldn’t be helped. You had never seen Simeon quite like this before. Was it simply angelic duty intensified by a thousand? A cleanliness is next to godliness sort of deal? Or maybe he was too similar to Lucifer in the sense that he needed to fulfill some sense of obligation to feel ‘normal’. Who knew? It certainly didn’t matter in this moment. Your feet closed the distance between you two in seconds, leaping against him, arms tightening around the angel’s waist. Simeon’s body jolted as your forehead pressed against the skin of his exposed back. Much like the brothers when they had gotten sick, Simeon was much hotter than he should be. It nearly hurt you just to embrace him like this, quite like having your face much too close to an open flame. But you’d deal with it for just a little longer. “Please… Just stop for a moment.”

The hug seemed to put a screeching halt to his momentum. He’d probably been running on fumes for hours now, knowing that the moment he stopped was the moment he would collapse. Even now, his legs were shaking, his body working into overdrive just to keep himself steady. He wobbled and clutched onto one of the kitchen counters. The Celestial light in the room started to dim a little. “MC?…” Finally, he seemed to notice you. “I’m sorry…I didn’t hear you come in. S-Sit down…I’ll get you something to drink.” He attempted to shift in your grasp.

Your hold on him tightened, your fingers curling into the fabric of his warm clothes. You cleared your throat, trying to eliminate the earlier squeak in your voice. “You won’t be doing anything.” Even if you had felt like playing along, you had to wonder how he would do anything with the state the kitchen was in. It was all you could do to keep from imagining that giant pile of plates toppling down on top of him.

“I… Well, at least let me finish up in here. I don’t want to leave it like this for Solomon and Luke.”

Your eyes softened even though he wasn’t facing you. He really was out of it, wasn’t he? “They’re not here, Simeon.”

His back stiffened against you. “W-What?”

“They’re not here,” you reiterated, releasing your arms from around his sides and coming around to face him. Taking in his countenance sunk your heart. His well-kept hair was frazzled and flat, his skin dry, hands calloused. Ink and grime coated the inside of his fingernails. Typically, his eyes held a particular light in them, a small halo around his irises, but now that light was gone, dulled. “They came over to the House of Lamentation to tell me what was going on. They’re still there, worried for you…”

With that revealed to him, his face twisted into remorse. “They left? Because of me?… I didn’t mean…” A sigh left his chest as he stepped behind you, stuffing his hands into two oven mitts as he pulled a sheet of freshly baked cookies out of the oven behind you. “I’ll at least go take these to them…” Even now he was still thinking about caring for others…

“Simeon.” With his name being called, he looked over his shoulder at you. You reached out and took both his wrists in your grasp, taking the mitts off his hands. After you put them on the counter- which was positively gleaming, by the by - you found yourself acting impulsively bold. Without thinking, your touch went to his cheeks, feeling the flush beneath his skin. You gently guided his head down to lean on your shoulder. You tilted your cheek to press against his temple, your palm tenderly resting on the back of his neck. For a moment, there was silence. A comfortable, knowing silence. “I know it might be rather shocking to discover, but those two can handle themselves. At least for a little while.” You managed to chuckle, but he didn’t seem to find it amusing. Or maybe he was simply feeling too miserable to muster any mirth. “Listen…don’t you start feeling guilty over stepping back from those responsibilities for a little while. Your worth isn’t measured by your output…if that makes sense…I’m not the best at impactful speeches. You understand where I’m getting at, don’t you? And you understand that I’m dragging you to bed regardless, right?”

Two arms wrapped around you and ran up your back. “You’re right…”

Despite the situation, you managed a big grin. “Yes, I am,” you chimed. “Let’s go now.” You took one of his hands firmly in yours, leading him through the labyrinth of his own making and towards his room. Unfortunately, his domain didn’t seem to escape the chaos. So, you sat him in a chair and worked to try to get things mostly in order. You pushed the bed-frame back up against the wall, plugged the side lamp back into the socket behind the nightstand, found the bedding hung up in the hallway, and even went so far as to fluff the pillows. When you proudly turned back towards the angel with your hands on your hips, you saw that while you were busy, he had discarded his shoes, cloak, and gloves.

Simeon pushed himself out of the chair and up on his feet, his hand curling around his forehead as he staggered towards the bed. You held out your arms precautiously. He practically flopped onto the mattress, his face temporarily buried into the comfort of a crisp cold pillow. It pained you to see him like this, and you had the sinking feeling that he was expending most of his efforts to hide as much of the sickness from you as he could. A few of your fingers worked on pushing some of the hair from his face. Even his locks were rather toasty. At the very least, he took in a nice deep breath. “Is it wrong…” he started, his voice drifting into a whisper, “…that I’m happy you’re here?”

Those words left you frozen for a while. You just stared down at him, resisting the urge to just hop into bed next to him and hold him next to you. “Why would it be wrong?”

“I…remember how tired you looked.” Your eyes went a little wide at his answer. “I remember thinking at the time how unfair it must’ve been for you. But then…when I first started feeling…under the weather…” His eyes glanced up at you, his arm twitching against his sheets like he had half a mind to reach out for you. “All I could think of was how nice it would be to have you here with me…”

Your lips parted as you went to speak, but no words came out. Guilt swirled in your soul a little. Had he really kept this all hush just for your sake? If that were the case though, he would’ve told the other members of Purgatory Hall, surely. He was partially right though, with the fact that it would do no one good if you wrung yourself dry trying to help someone else. Finally, you sat by his side in bed, pulling a cooled sheet over his body and rubbing his taut shoulders. “I did seem to go a little overboard in the care-taking aspect when the brothers all turned ill, you’re right… But, you can rest assured that I won’t push myself too hard by taking care of you… After all, you wouldn’t let me do such a thing, would you?” His expression seemed to brighten, taking hold of your hand and pressing it against his own face as he shook his head. “And don’t you worry. Tomorrow I’ll be summoning Solomon and Luke back home to help put the Hall back in one piece. So for now,” you leaned forward and embraced him, nearly cradling his head against your body, “rest, and prepare to be fully cared for just as you deserve.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me simeon #obey me simeon x reader #obey me simeon x mc

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mxtantrights · 2 days

Text

ordinary human

a/n: I can't believe this is my third fic for this fandom. I can't believe it. But I figured I would put my words down and get it all out. I don't think I'll make a part two to this, but we'll see...and with that, I hope you enjoy.

Eris x fem!reader, Azriel x fem!reader

Tiny sharp nails and needles all over your body. That's what it felt like every time Beron questioned you in your cell. It was hardly even that. more like a corner of a room with a rusty and eroded gate.

But you didn't know the reason why. And you couldn't tell Beron that because he didn't take no for an answer. He never takes no for an answer.

You don't know how long it's been now. But a while ago you managed to appear into the fae lands. Not on purpose either. One night you were working a late shift at the tavern. You finished and took the trash out into the alley and then everything went black.

The next time you opened your eyes, you were someplace different. The air felt different against your skin, it felt different in your lungs. You knew you weren't home, but you didn't know exactly where you were.

Until you were captured by the autumn court guards. They took you to the high lord, Beron, and asked what he wanted to be done to you. And he smiled and said he'd think about it.

It's been hell since then.

Every few days have been a new type of torture. Mind games, where he'd leave the cell door open and lure you out. Or he would crowd you in the cell and force you to answer questions. Or he would only offer you fae wine over water, which you couldn't drink without it altering your mind.

Today, though, is new. The guards took you out of your cell today a bit gentler then usual. And then they threw you into a room. A room with a bed and a bathroom, things you haven't seen in a while.

The guard told you to clean yourself up. You wasted no time following orders. One because you felt filthy, and two because you didn't want to defy them and earn new bumps and bruises to your body.

The only way you know time passes is because when you were thrown into the room, the sun was still up. The barred windows told you as much. And by the time you finished cleaning yourself up and waiting for the guards to return the sun set and the sky was turning dark already.

After you cleaned yourself, you looked around the room for anything to help you escape this nightmare. The window wasn't an option. But in between rummaging through the drawers of the bathroom you found a sharp blade. You tucked it into the sleeve of the plain and sheer white dress you were given.

You were laying on the bed when you heard the door open. Your flinch and crawl up further on the bed, pleading and begging the guards to just let you stay inside the room. But they don't speak to you at all.

They grab you by the arms and drag you out of the room. Seeing as you haven't eaten in a long time, you have no energy to fight back. You try screaming but your voice dies out in your throat. And your body lulls as they drag you down a hallway and then another, and then another. You drop your heavy head as they do.

Faintly you can hear a door opening. And there is a plethora of voices. But you can't pick your head up to look. You're tired. So tired. You wish you had lied to Beron and said something, anything, to get him to just end it in your cell.

"And now I present to you, my newest experiment." Beron's voice fills the dinning hall.

The doors open and in comes two guards and a woman. She's being dragged in by her arms. Her feet not walking on their own, and her head bobbing with every motion the guards make.

Rhysand looks at Beron in fury. A human in Prythian was rare, until Feyre that is. But this is different. Feyre agreed to a deal to save her family. This woman doesn't look like she came here on her own.

"You've taken a human captive?" Rhysand asks.

Azriel looks your form over twice. You look pale and weak. Like if the guard were to let go of you, you would fall to the floor. And you wouldn't be able to get back up. He knew Beron to be cruel but this is something wicked.

Beron grins and stands from his seat. He takes his chalice with him and walks over to the woman.

"Hardly. She appeared here out of thin air it seems. Can't recall how she crossed the border. A foolish lie, I surmise." Beron says.

Beron snaps his fingers and the guards lets your arms go. You don't have enough energy to catch yourself. You land on your knees and fall flat on your stomach. Unmoving.

"You should have sent her back." Feyre says.

She couldn't stand the sight of it. Your body was so still. And your heartbeat so slow. She was human once. It's hard to not see you and think of how she could have been in the same predicament. She's in a position of power now, and she wants tot help you desperately.

"Well I've just about exhausted my patience with her. That brings us here," Beron begins and drinks the rest of the wine from his chalice, "I figured you'd have a soft spot, soft belly."

Rhysand slams his hand on the table. "You will not talk to her like that!"

Beron hands his chalice to one of the guards who takes it without another word. He uses his foot to roll your body over. You slump to the ground again, eyes closed.

He leans in closer to get a look at you.

Feyre can hear it now. How your heartbeat is beating. Adrenaline.

When he turned your body over, you slide the blade down your arm. You could fake it for a while, but this was your shot. If you couldn't escape, then he would surely execute you for attacking him. Beron doesn't strike you as the type to forgive and forget.

The moment you feel his breath on you is when you do it.

You launch up and swipe his face with the blade. He goes flying back, his hands covering his face. You can't see the damage you've done but the blood seeping through his palms is enough to know there is damage.

It's like all the fear is rushing out of you. You get on your feet after a few stumbles, with the blade pointing out in front of you. You turn this way and that, not daring to trust anyone in the room.

"Either you let me go or you kill me!" you shout.

Beron looks at you in pure rage. His hand juts out from his side. And you know what the means. It means he's going to use his powers against you.

The first time he did it, he just lightly burned you. But after what you've done now? There is no way you don't turn into ash. You take a staggering breath.

"That's enough!" Another voice shouts.

You whirl around to them. A male fae. Dark hair. Purple eyes. Purple eyes, you think to yourself. You were very far from home. That much is clear.

"She'll come with us." The female fae next to him says.

You start to shake your head. You don't want to go anywhere but home. You weren't going with another fae. You can't trust any of them.

"That little whore just attacked me, I'll kill her!" Beron shouts.

All of a sudden darkness clouds your vision. But you know it's not your head this time. This is a tangible darkness, shadows. In front of you materialized is a man with wings. Your eyes go wide at him. A different type of fae.

He holds out his hand, "You'll come with us if you want to live."

You don't waste any time. You put your hand in his. For the first time since you got here, the touch is friendly. You can feel the adrenaline coursing trough you start to slow.

Without another second the scenery around you changes. You go from one room you didn't know to another. You feel sick too. In the pit of your belly. It feels like bile.

"You're gonna feel-" the male in front of you says.

But he doesn't get to finish. How could he when you bend over and let out the bile you felt in your belly. The feeling is exhausting. But it doesn't last long.

You pick yourself back up and look at the male. It's then you realize that he's still holding into your hand. You should let go, you really should. But with how weak you're feeling, you cannot. You might fall to the floor if you do.

"We have rooms here, if you want to lay down for a moment." he speaks.

You shake your head over and over. Your eyes beginning to water up. You slowly hold out the blade.

"I want to go home. Take me home." you say, voice cracking.

There's an uneasy silence between the two of you. He doesn't say anything for a few moments. And you feel like you might have to attack him too in order to be taken seriously.

But then a gust of wind is felt across your cheek. You look in the direction of where it came from. There standing a few feet away are the two other fae you saw besides Beron in that other room.

The female takes a step closer to you and you take a step back.

She raises her hands up in defense, "We're not gonna hurt you."

"Please let me go home. Please." you whisper.

"We will, we will. I promise. But you should eat something, and get some rest." she offers.

Eating sounds good. Sleeping too. But how could you trust any of them. How do you know they aren't working with Beron. Maybe this is just some elaborate trick? Fae are tricksters.

Tricksters.

But you can't live like this anymore. You can't live if you don't eat. You can't live if you don't sleep. You can't make it home if you don't live.

You lower the blade and nod you head, "I could eat."

The woman smiles at you. Then she introduces herself as Feyre. The male beside her is Rhysand, her husband. And the other male with the wings is Azriel.

After you ate the first plate of food you were taken to a nice room, with a bed. Feyre told you that you could sleep there for a few hours while they worked on getting you home.

Well, a few hours turned into a full day. No one bothered you. You went a full twenty four hours of sleeping. It felt good, it felt like stillness.

You didn't really dream that whole time. Or if you did, you can't remember what you saw. If you had nightmares you can't remember that either.

All you remember as you wake up to dimly lit room is that you need to get home. That is what gets you out of bed and out of the room. Luckily not without your blade.

When you walk down the hallway you notice noise coming from further in the house. You walk towards it and keep your blade tucked inside of your sleeve.

At the door you realize there are more people inside than you anticipated. But before you can even try to turn back the noise stops. Fae have good hearing. They can hear you from inside.

"Come join us." a voice says.

It's speaking to you. There is no other person it could possibly be speaking to. You wearily move in close to the door. You peek your head inside.

There at the table are faces your recognize. Feyre, Rhysand and Azriel. And a few that you don't recognize. You gulp down the fear in your throat and take a few cautious steps into the room.

"There's no need to be scared. This is my family" Feyre speaks to you.

You look at her, "I don't mean to offend you but I would really like to go home now."

"That's easy." Rhysand answers.

He snaps his fingers and the space on the table in front of him is cleared. Then a scroll of paper lands on the wooden table. You watch as he rolls it out.

"Show us where your home is and we'll take you there." Rhysand says.

You quickly walk over to where he is seated at the table. Your eyes glance over the food, once and then twice, and you can feel you stomach begging you to eat. But you would really want to go home over eating another meal here.

On the map you don't really recognize the lands. You have only seen a map when you were younger. And you weren't really paying attention.

You look the map over again. Nothing looks familiar to you.

"Do you have another map? I don't think I see it on here." you speak quietly.

Rhysand nods his head, "Of course."

All of a sudden five scrolls of paper appear in front of you. Rhysand unfurls one of them and shows it to you. Your eyes scan and scan but you can't find anything that reminds you of home. You shake our head.

This process repeats four more times. Four more maps. Four more pieces of paper that don't tell you where home is. You begin to grow weary each time you open a map.

"Hey, it's okay. Maybe you could just tell us where in the mortal lands you call home." Feyre speaks up.

You let out a strangled breath. "The Canary Isles."

The room is silent. You feel it then and there. You feel it as you look around the table and their faces don't change. They all look at you like you've grown another head.

"No worry, I can ask the priestesses for a map from the library. Surely there will be something there." Rhysand says.

You swallow the lump in your throat. Your home isn't on any of their maps. They won't find it. Maybe, because it doesn't exist here. You're not sure how you got here, but you know it was a power beyond you.

"It doesn't exist." a voice says.

You look around the table, and sure enough the only woman looking right back at you is a small one. Black hair. Pretty. But you can sense right off the bat that she isn't like the others. She seems like...more.

"Amren!" another voice says.

"You're willing to string her along? I'm telling you you'll find nothing in any of the maps." Amren, the voice from before, says.

"Why?" you ask, voice shaky and unconfident.

You don't want to hear the words. You don't want her to say what you're thinking. But you need to know the truth. You need to understand your place here. You couldn't do that in the cell with Beron. And it seems like if you left it up to Rhysand you wouldn't do that here either.

"The Canary Isles are no longer." she answers.

You shake your head, "No, no that can't be. I just came from there. I was brought here! It exists!"

"Not for a long time. The Isles were overcome by powerful tremors that sunk the land into the ocean. Then that land reemmerged as the court of nightmares." Amren explains.

You can't help the feeling of bile in your stomach. Or the fear that is catching your breath. You take out the blade and back yourself up. At your action everyone in the room stands up.

Feyre takes a step closer to you but you raise the blade in her direction. You see Rhysand wrap his arm around her waist.

And that's about all you see before your eyes get wet, and you realize that you've started crying.

"I told you I wanted to go home. And now you're telling me it doesn't exist." you shout.

"I know, I know, but if you give us some time-" Feyre starts.

"You promised!" you cut her off with a yell.

"Stop lying to her, you can't promise something that doesn't exist." Amren keeps going.

"I need you to put that blade down." Azriel says.

You shake your head and try to wipe away the tears in your eyes. With a rough swipe of your palm over your face you do as much as you can.

"I just want to go home. Please let me go home. Please, I'm begging you, just let me go." you sob.

You don't even know what you're asking at this point. If home didn't exist how could they let you go there? No matter how hard you beg they could not bring you to a place that no longer existed.

You don't notice the feeling of something snaking up your legs. You don't notice until it's too late and it binds your wrists together. The blade clatters to the floor loudly.

"I got her," Azriel's voice sounds.

You fall to your knees all at once. The hunger and desperation getting to you. You can hear all of them walking away, almost all of them. You lift your head up to see them. Azriel and Rhysand.

"I am so sorry." Azriel says.

You don't quite understand what he's apologizing for. You look over to Rhysand who looks just as remorseful. You can't understand why, you were a human. Nothing to them.

As you stare into Rhysand's eyes your vision becomes spotty, until it becomes dark all together. The last thing you remember feeling is falling to your side.

Azriel and Rhysand watch your unmoving form on the floor. Rhysand didn't want to put you to sleep but he had to. It was the only way to get the situation under control without hurting you physically.

Azriel's shadow lets go of your wrist and they fall apart.

"This doesn't make sense brother." Azriel says.

"I know, but she's been through a lot since her arrival." Rhysand admits.

"An ordinary human girl from a place that no longer exists? We've never delt with this situation before."

Rhysand hums, "Agreed. Maybe we should talk to someone who knows more than us."

"Beron?" Azriel asks.

Rhysand shakes head head. "The other Vanserra."

Azriel sighs, "Mor's not gonna like it. Neither will Cassian."

"Right now he might be the only chance she has. I'll send for him."

For the first time you feel at ease. You can picture your dreams so clearly. Your house, filled with your family. Your job filled with your friends and the nice customers. Real. All of it is real.

So why did something feel off?

You can't remember what you were doing before this. Were you sleeping at your house or were you at the tavern? You don't think you were at either one of those places. But if you weren't, where were you?

This is a dream, but the question is, are you going to wake up and like what you find?

Eris takes in your sleeping form. He couldn't believe when Rhysand had the nerve to ask him to come over. Of course he know him to be smart and quick, coming up with an excuse to appease Beron.

Officially he is in the night court to negotiate some gifts his father is to recieve on behalf of being attacked. By you.

You.

Unofficially, he is here because of you. For many reasons, and Rhysand seems to only know of one. That's his problem.

Eris knew the moment he saw you, you were someone special. He couldn't show it, lest he have you killed right then and there. But over the course of your stay in his court, he grew quite fond of you. Even if you never knew it.

The way you stood your ground when Beron played and tested you was remarkable. It reminded him of himself and the ever-going game he's been playing with his father. And it renewed his patience. If you could do it, so could he.

Now here you were.

"What did she call it again?" he asks.

Rhysand and Azriel share a look between each other. Then Azriel clears his throat.

"The Canary Isles." he answers.

"Otherwise known as the court of nightmares." Eris finishes off.

"How did you know that?" Rhysand asks.

Eris passes a smirk over his lips, "My father can be quite banal about things. As you know."

"Okay but do you know anything that can help her?" Azriel asks this time.

Eris looks at them now. If his father caught wind of this, Eris doesn't even know how to complete that sentence. Surely he'd be beaten by his own father's hand. Maybe exiled.

"I cannot turn back time, shadow singer." Eris answers carefully.

"We're talking about how she got here." Rhysand clarifies.

"She doesn't know that information, nor do I."

"This was a waste." Azriel says suddenly.

"I agree. Eris you're free to go." Rhysand adds.

Eris sighs, "Wait."

Both of the males look at him. A couple of choice words on their minds. They don't speak them just yet, in hopes of what he might offer them and you.

Eris looks at you once more.

"Beron thought she appeared a couple of weeks ago. But that isn't true." Eris admits.

"Go on..." Rhysand trails off.

Eris cross his arms against his chest. With his brows settled and his face neutral, he schools his shoulders back.

"I found her almost two months ago. When she first appeared in our court. She was laying there on the ground, unconscious. I helped her." Eris confesses.

The room is silent between the three males. Rhysand can't believe the words coming out of his mouth at first. Eris? Helping someone? Surely he is lying and working an angle.

Bur Azriel, he believes him. There is no reason for Eris to play hero. Not for anyone in the night court, and not while you were knocked out. This doesn't benefit him.

And then there is the looks he has on his face. When he looks at you. For the first time in forever Azriel sees this look and thinks that Eris might be capable of emotion behind the mask he wears.

"And if I wake her up, she'll remember that?" Rhysand asks.

Eris shakes his head, "No. I subdued those memories deep in her mind, once she got caught."

Rhysand scoffs.

"So you left her to Beron to fend for herself?" Azriel asks.

"It was the only way she would make it out of there alive. Or at least until I could come up with a plan to get her out of the autumn court." Eris replies.

"Eris, the hero." Rhysand comments.

"You don't understand." Eris quips.

"Enlighten us." Azriel says.

Eris is still for a moment. Uncharacteristically still, even for his own standards. Rhysand doesn't like it one bit, but he'll allow it if he can get some answers from him. This visit has yielded much of them so far.

Then he does something that shocks both males. Instead of answering with words, he lets his shields down. Invites Rhysand into his mind. And enter he does.

But there is only one thing for him to see.

Eris, stood over your body, in the woods. The leaves of autumn beneath you. In this memory, he took a step back. He took several steps back and placed a hand over his chest. A gasp.

Eris puts his shield back up. Rhysand looks at him now.

"She's your mate." Rhysand states.

The three words hung heavy in the air as the three males weighed their options then and there. All the while you lay in a deep slumber none the wiser.

You wake up to the feeling of someone touching you. At first you don't quite understand. Who could be touching you right now? Why would someone be touching you?

Then your mind fills in the gaps. You weren't at home. This wasn't your bed. You were in a fae court. Stranded. Being held against your will. Not by the cruel high lord of the autumn court. But of the high lord of the night court.

You lurch out of your sleep. Your eyes fly open.

"Calm down, you're safe. It's okay."

You take him in. Ginger hair. Freckles. Beautiful by your standards and probably fae standards. No. He probably exceeds all of them. You ask yourself who this male is. But you know you don't have the answer to that question.

"Who are you?" you ask quietly.

He smiles for just a sliver of a second. You know you're not imagining it. Or maybe you are. After all you've eaten fae food, you can't trust anything right now.

"A friend." he says.

He takes his hand way from your cheek. You miss the warmth that was there. But you don't dare ask for him to return it.

"I don't have friends here." you reply.

"Maybe we can be friends then. If you'll have me." he says.

You look at him for a moment. His face looks passive. Like he doesn't want to have this conversation. But his words and the way his voice sounds, tell you a different story.

"Can you take me home?" you ask a bit louder this time.

He clears his throat, "I'm working on figuring that out. It's no easy task."

"Impossible things are hardly ever easy." you answer.

He cracks a smile, "I agree."

"You look familiar." you say suddenly.

His eyes widen a bit. He tries to school his face back to neutral but it's too late. You've seen it already. And if he looks familiar, maybe he does know a way to bring you back home. Or it's something more sinister.

"My name is Eris." he greets you formally.

After stroking your face in your sleep. Fae were weird. He holds out his hand for you to take. You move to sit up on the bed. From underneath the covers you take out a hand and shake his with it.

You give him your name. He nods his head once.

"I hope to be of service." he says.

It's been weeks of silence. You don't understand it. The fae say say one thing and mean another entirely. Maybe it was the human part of you that took people at their word.

You're learning that won't work here.

Eris wasn't much of a help. You don't even know how to contact him. Even if you could you doubt he'd be able to do something to help you. If he did, he would be here.

And you weren't going to ask any one here. You couldn't trust any of them. Except for maybe that one who told you the truth. No matter how hard it was or you to hear.

You open the door to the room. Your room, you suppose it is now. Slowly you peek your head out to get a glance down the hallway. There's no one there, not even the other creatures that live here.

With bated breath you take careful steps outside of your room. Not like it would really be of nay use, with their hearing abilities and all. But it would show them that you weren't interested in talking.

Walking down the hallway is the easy part. When you get to the staircase is when you begin to doubt yourself. You take the steps two at a time, being barefooted meant less noise against the marble floors.

When you reach the bottom you look both ways. To the left was the dinning room. You would definitely not go in there. To your right was another room. One you hadn't entered before.

You tiptoe over to the door and press your ear against it. The wood is so thick you can't hear anything but muffled voices. You can't tell who is who.

There's a sound and then another. You move to back up but the door flies open before you can get far enough.

It's her.

She looks you up and down. Sizing up her prey no doubt. You don't flinch or shy away from it.

"For a human you're very brave." she says.

You swallow, hoping it isn't loud enough to be detected.

"I wanted to speak to you." you respond.

She nods her head, "Very well, little human."

She turns on her heel without another word. Meaning you were to follow. You take after her, a couple of steps behind. She walks down the hallway on the first floor and out the balcony doors.

You don't have to keep up for too long because she stops and takes a seat in the chairs placed outside. You take the one beside her.

"What did you wish to speak about?" she asks.

"Out of everyone here, you know the most about the Canary Isles. Can you tell me more about what happened?"

She looks at you. Like really looks at you. Maybe she can't believe that you want to hear more about how your home no longer exists. You shift under her gaze.

"I don't think it'll do you any good to hear about it right now. Not when they are working to get you back." she answers.

You shake your head, "You said that was impossible."

"To my knowledge. But I have been wrong before."

"Do you honestly think you're wrong now?" you ask her.

She is silent for a moment. A moment that is riddled with tension and worry. You want her to be wrong. But you get the feeling that she's rarely ever so.

"For your sake, I hope I am."

"please, tell me what happened." you plead.

"It was recorded a long time ago that an ancient creature created the tremors that sunk the island. And it remained underwater due to a powerful spell that was only broken by the first high lord of the night court." she explains to you.

Ancient creatures. Spells. High Lords. All of this seemed like a fever dream. Yes fae existed where you came from, or you should say when, but they weren't the rulers of courts. They lived amongst humans.

But maybe all of that changed.

"This sounds like a long time ago for you." you comment.

"I was not alive when it happened. And I am older than everyone here, so it was a long time ago." she responds.

She's not about to tell you how old she is. And you're not about to ask.

"You're name is Amren, right?" you ask.

She looks at you softly and nods her head.

"Thank you, for talking with me. I really appreciate it."

Later that night you are going back to your room. You stood outside after Amren left. She had things to do, but you didn't. You figured you would just sit and try to understand things. Which turned into you taking a nap on the chairs.

The only reason you woke up was because of the change in weather. The night time hit and you felt the cold breeze against your skin. Your mind was fuzzy as you picked your head up. So fuzzy you thought you saw leaves on the ground.

But when you stood up, barefooted on the ground, you realized there were none.

So you shook it off as exhaustion. And you decided to get to bed.

You were walking up the steps when you heard another pair of footsteps. You halted all at once. Then the footsteps stopped. You looked up to see who it was that you couldn't avoid.

Azriel.

"I was looking for you, your room was empty." he says.

You start to question to yourself why he was looking for you in the first place. It's not like the two of you were friends. Neither could he tell you anything about how to get back home.

"Why?" you ask him.

"I wanted to apologize for binding your hands at dinner. That was wrong. I wanted to make sure you didn't hurt yourself or anyone else. But I should have thought of another way." he explains.

You watch him closely. From here, it seems like he cares about you. And you don't have the faintest idea why. You take an apprehensive step up, and then another. You meet him where he is, at the second to last step at the top.

He watches you as you do.

His wings moving behind him. His shadows unruly.

"Why are all of you so intent on keeping me alive?" you question.

He looks take aback that you would ask such a thing. His jaw clenches and you take that to mean you've upset him.

"We would do this no matter who you were." he answers.

And there it is. Those words, were so specific. No matter who you were? So you were someone of importance to them? How? How long will you be important before they discard you?

You can't help the inquisitive look you give him, "So I am someone important? You need me for something?"

Azriel doesn't spare you another look. He walks right past you. His arm brushing yours as he does. You stay right there on the steps. Unmoving.

You look back just in time to see him disappear into his shadows.

a/n: annddd that's all I got! sorry this was sitting in my drafts and I wanted to just get rid of it so bad. idk how I feel about it. send me a message in my inbox if you want me to keep going.

#azriel x reader #Eris x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #Eris imagine #acotar x reader #acotar imagine

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v1nuswrites · 2 days

Text

Chapter Three: Party?

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Summary: https://www.tumblr.com/v1nuswrites/749849029310021632/all-my-unconditional-love-carina-x?source=share

Please read the summary before continuing with this fic ^^

Chris x female! OC

Chapters:

Part One, Part Two

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Carina didn’t know why her friends had decided on that particular dare, but Chris' actions soon made blindingly clear to them that it wasn't going to work, and eventually, they gave up. However, that didn't stop people around the school from talking.

All Carina could hear throughout the day was whispering about her and Chris holding hands, most of them ignoring the fact that straight after he tripped her up. She'd already heard so many ridiculous theories by the time lunch rolled around, she practically collapsed onto the groups lunch table, making her embarrassment and annoyance clear.

The group only glanced at each other, Nick smiling sweetly.

"Everything okay?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Peachy" Carina gritted out, deciding to let it go, the gossip wouldn't last long anyways.

"I just can't believe anyone would think I would go as low as to date Chris" She couldn't help but mutter. However, her direction of thoughts was quickly altered as she noticed just how close Luca and nick were to each other.

Cute.

Carina turned to Matt. She soon noticed he was looking over at Chris on the other side of the lunch hall. Recently, he had begun to sit next to Soren with the 'popular' group.

"I can't believe Chris doesn't sit with us anymore" Matt said sadly. It was clear that the group shared the same feelings, excluding Carina of course. Still, she felt sympathetic for them, especially Nick and Matt. They hadn't been in separate friendship groups well ... ever.

"Oh by the way guys, Olivia Is holding a party to celebrate the start of Senior year, were all invited so you guys better show up" Maya threatened, clearly trying to keep the group positive.

"Sounds good" Nick replied. He quickly glanced at Luca in a questioning manner, silently asking if he would be coming. Luca nodded in response.

"I'm in" Carina nodded. She actually enjoyed parties most of the time, and she definitely needed to loosen up after the stress and embarrassment of the past few days. Maybe she could even use this as an opportunity to stop those rumours once and for all.

They all sent a pleading look to Matt, knowing he would be the hardest to convince.

"Come on Matt, it's the first party of senior year, you have to be there!" Nick tried to convince him.

"Pleaseeee" Maya and Carina began to beg.

"Fine" Matt gave in smiling.

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Carina looked at herself in the mirror as she zipped up her emerald green midi dress.

Her mother was right, it really did compliment her auburn hair. She didn't know how long she looked at herself in the mirror, mostly out of surprise, but her trance was broken as she heard a honking outside her house. She quickly added some finishing touches to her make up and left the house.

"Great, she's coming"

Carina could already hear Chris' outrage and she had only just stepped out the door. She couldn't help but grin; making him annoyed was one of her favourite hobbies after all.

"Everything okay Chris?" She smiled sweetly, but he could immediately detect its teasing edge.

"Fuck off and turn around" Chris seethed from the passenger seat. Carina couldn't help but think he looked like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

"Oh that wouldn't be much fun now would it?" She replied. Carina honestly didn't recognise herself around Chris, she never acted like this with anyone else, and from what she had seen, Chris didn't either.

"You better stay away from me tonight, I don't need more rumours spreading, its embarrassing enough as is" Chris said as she got into the car.

"Trust me, staying far away from you won't be a challenge" Carina retorted as she sat beside Maya.

"That's enough! You two can get really annoying when you argue. Seriously, I think I'm getting a headache" Matt warned as he continued to drive.

"The Mattitude tonight is crazy" Maya whispered next to Carina and whisper like laughs could be heard from the very back seats - Nick and Luca.

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By the time they arrived at the party, it was at its height. Music was blasting from the speakers around the house and Carina wondered how the police hadn't already been called for a noise complaint. As they entered the house, it was chaos. People were making out in corners, others were taking shots from precious looking vases and a group of guys were sliding down the large staircase using a surfboard.

How innovative, Carina thought dryly.

As Carina walked into the kitchen with her friends, she realised that the backdoors led straight onto the beach, where even more people were. Carina had been to her fair share of parties over the years, mainly thanks to Maya and her many friends, but this one was for sure the biggest she had been to.

She instantly turned to Matt, realising he was picking his fingernails. She gently placed her hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"Want a drink?" Carina shouted over the music, hoping it would calm his nerves.

"Please, nothing too strong though" He replied.

As Carina looked around her, she realised Chris was gone. It hit her that he had likely gone straight to Emily, and Carina felt anger well up within her at the idea, but she wasn't sure why.

Ever since they had started high school, Emily and Chris had been dating on and off for years, seemingly relishing in the drama of breaking up and getting back together again shortly afterward. Carina couldn't stand it. She knew all about Emily. She knew how rude she was to everyone but those who she deemed 'good enough'. Over the years, she had tried to tell Chris, but of course he didn't listen to her.

Trying to distract herself from getting angry, Carina poured a cup of whatever she could find on the counter for herself and Matt, handing it to him.

Suddenly, Olivia, the girl who Carina distantly remembered as the host of the party, practically popped up from behind Matts shoulder, nearly scaring Carina to death.

"Want one guys?" She asked as she held out a tray of jello shots. Her voice was bubbly and bright, the kind of voice which would normally make you feel welcome, but Carina could instantly detect the melancholic edge it held. She decided now likely wasn't the best time to ask, she didn't want to upset the girl even more.

Carina had already finished her first drink, so she shrugged and said "Why not?", grabbing one from the tray.

They were delicious.

Carina wasn't sure how many of those jello shots she had, all she knew was they tasted delicious and there were sooo many different flavours... She was listing them in her head; grape, cherry, strawberry ....

Suddenly, she bumped into a strong frame sitting on the floor. She vaguely recognised the figure as one of the football players on the same team as Soren and Chris.

"I'm so sorry!" Carina gasped as she finally realised she had hit him.

"No worries" He laughed, turning his head to her and away from the beautiful view of the ocean.

"Why are you out here all alone?" She asked as she sat down next to him. Normally, Carina wouldn't sit next to a stranger, but the alcohol circulating her system had other plans.

He just shrugged his shoulders and smiled, "No one to sit out here with me I guess"

Carina knew this couldn't be true, distantly remembering he was quite popular within their school.

"Carina" She said simply.

"Joel" He replied.

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They talked for what felt like hours, but Carina knew it could have only been forty-five minutes. Joel was surprisingly great, and easy to get along with. It also helped that they had a lot in common.

She was enjoying herself until she felt a harsh grab at her shoulder, practically dragging her away from Joel.

"Time to go" The voice said casually.

She could recognise that voice anywhere, Chris. Immediately, she tried pulling away from him, but his grip was surprisingly strong considering the fact he wasn't hurting her at all.

"I wasn't done!" Carina exclaimed, annoyed Chris was ruining things for her once again. She immediately turned to Joel who was getting further away by the second. His face was one of pure shock.

"Bummer" Chris said, clearly not caring.

"I thought we agreed to stay away from each other!" She seethed, looking at him. She continued to try and tug her arm away, to no avail.

"You agreed to stay away from me, I said nothing of the sort" He smirked, knowing he had her trapped.

This was why they never agreed on anything.

Well, apart from that one time...

She shook her head to rid herself of the thought and stayed silent as Chris led her out of the house and into the car where everyone was waiting, not letting her go or softening his grip for a second. Carina silently blamed her sudden compliance on the alcohol.

She and Maya were dropped at Carina's house, Maya staying the night for a sleepover. Not that it would be much of one considering the drunken state the girls were in.

When they finally got to her room, Maya stumbled into a medium sized pink box on the floor, a gorgeous velvet ribbon neatly sat atop it.

"What's this?" She giggled as she asked Carina.

"Oh those are the love letters I wrote for Soren years ago, before he rejected me" Carina told her. The whole group knew about her and Soren anyway, they had all helped her through it, so she didn't really see the point in lying.

Maya opened it, trying to read one of the letters but failing, her drunken state causing all the words to swirl and move around the page. Carelessly, she dropped the letter to the floor.

Or, at least, what she must've thought was the floor.

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A/N: This is a bit of a longer chapter! I hope you guys are enjoying it so far :) I'm certainly having a lot of fun writing it and putting my own spin on all kinds of cringey romantic moments! As always, thanks so much for your support <3

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bluepixiedream · 18 hours

Text

Okay okay I’m currently writing ‘Good Dogs Only’ chapter 2 BUT I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA I CANT HOLD BACK. I NEED TO VENT IT OUT.

IM VERY EXCITED

OKAY HERE WE GO

Cw: violence, language, blood, cursing, and kidnapping. Kind of a dark fic? Viewer discretion is advised.

Picture it:

Cute, pretty innocent reader who works hard at their job, enjoys their nice home that’s located outside of town, your flower and small vegetable garden that you spend hours on to make it more lively, all sorts of books on your living room shelf (quite obviously doesn’t get many visitors due to the adult nature of some of these books) and occasionally binges Doctor Who. Normal. Peaceful. Nothing out of the ordinary.

After work one day, you head to a small market for some dinner supplies which includes a pot roast, a meat cleaver and a bottle of rum. Unbeknownst to you, a stranger hides in the backseat of the car while you’re inside and you are none the wiser. Throwing the items in the passenger seat, you head on home. Music blaring. A lit joint between your lips and the wind in your air. Friday night and you have a hot date with a few toys and a new book that should have arrived this afternoon. Everything was perfect.

A light pops up on the dash and anxiety slams into you like you can’t imagine. What was wrong now? Could you make it home? How much would this cost? Before, you weren’t high enough and now you were too high. You wanted to curse yourself.

Pulling over as quickly as you could, you decide after a minute to check all the doors and make sure everything was okay. Before you could take off your seat belt, a plastic bag is placed over your head and tightened.

Panic and adrenaline floods you as you struggle to breath. Your hands, that immediately went to your neck to relieve the pressure, release and attempt the poke a hole through the thick, unforgiving plastic. You think that this is it. This is how you die. Pathetic and alone. Murdered of all things.

But thankfully you tear through and air hits your screaming lungs. Without thinking, you wrap a hand around your brand new meat cleaver and begin swinging behind you. Somehow managing to get out of your seatbelt, you continue your brutal assault until you're sure you killed your attacker, or at least, knock them out.

You're breathing hard. Everything is covered in the attackers sticky, cooling blood. You can’t even cry. Completely shocked at what has transpired these last few minutes.

Not knowing what to do, you start driving home again. Music off. Windows up. Fear stinking up the air. The drive home had never been longer, nor quieter.

Pulling to your house, you open the garage door and drive in, refusing to get out until the door shuts completely. You hear the man, their attacker, groan in pain and you kick it in high gear. Grabbing a dinning room chair and some rope you had hoped to use for private time, you use what strength you have to pull him in the chair and tie him like you’ve read over and over again in your BDSM books. You tightened the ropes as much as possible before stopping. The man is trying to wake, but can’t. Blood is drying against his head and bruises are blooming across what you can see.

Leaving your car door open, you grab your groceries and, in a complete and utter daze, turn off the light and head inside.

Once inside, you wash your hands before starting dinner. Halfway through with zero thoughts in your head, the attacker is awake and screaming at you to let him go. That he will kill you. You will suffer greatly for what you’ve done. You don’t do anything until dinner is put in the crockpot and you take a quick shower to get rid of the rest of the blood.

What to do, you think. Do you call the police? Wouldn’t they wonder why you didn’t call immediately? Why take him back to your place? Is that weed they smell in the car?

Would they release the attacker? Would the attacker come back for you to finish the job?

You can’t think. You can’t deal with this. What should you do? No family to turn to. You can’t get their coworkers involved, that’s just wrong. You have nobody.

You remember a bar near the other side of town, near an empty field. It’s normally filled with military people, bikers and gangsters. A “neutral place” so to speak. Nobody fucks with each other and they got booze, music and sometimes ladies who paraded themselves. It was a haven for them.

And a perfect spot for you to go and find a person to help you…deal with this situation.

Changing clothes and almost feeling a bit better, other than the man screaming if you listened hard enough, you decide it’s time. You stop at the garage and realize you can’t take your car, wait for a cab to pick you up a block away. Before you leave, you tell your attacker that you are getting help.

You don’t clarify what help you're getting, or for who. For the attacker, or for the attackee.

The cab drops you off a few blocks away from the bar and happily accepts the cash you hand them. It’s getting dark, the lights from the bar illuminates way and the big man who is watching people come and go waves you in. He thinks it’s definitely not the your scene, but who is he to say otherwise?

People fill the bar. Some are playing poker. Others are sitting at the bar and others are in booths having secretive discussions. You can’t help but feel eyes on you, clocking you, a shark drawn to blood. You try to not look around too much before going up the bar and ordering two shots of vodka to calm your nerves. As soon as they arrive, they’re both immediately knocked back, side by side. You order two more and start to feel comfortable enough to look around.

A few men in leather jackets playing pool glance at you but they go back to playing. A few people covered in tattoos and dark clothes stay to themselves in a booth closest to the door and the other booth holds four men who were obviously military. One man had mutton chops and a beanie. Another was beautiful with dark skin, full lips and a baseball cap. The third had a Mohawk and a lazy smile to whatever mutton chops had said. The last, and the one you figured out was staring a hole into you, was a complete enigma. Built like a tank and scarier than the boogie man, a black mask covered his whole face as a sewed on skull mask covered the top part of his face. His eyes were dark, and latched on to yours immediately.

Hands sweaty and nerves shot, you throw back the two shots once more before gathering the courage to walk up to the big man in a skull mask.

Apart of you rips you to shreds. How stupid you were. You already had one psychotic maniac in your garage and here you are, walking up to another one, possibly.

Nobody at the table was ready for you to walk up, as suddenly the atmosphere changed as all four eyes locked on the new arrival.

The 141 was use to people staring at them, whispering about them, wanting them. It was completely different when someone actually walked up to them. And especially being as…innocent as you were. A cute flower shirt stating “Carrot On My Wayward Son” with blue jeans and sandals didn’t exactly scream “intimidating!”. You had everyone’s attention.

But especially Ghost. Who clocked you as soon as you stepped in and didn’t stop as you drank and took inventory of the crowd.

It was exhilarating.

“Can I get you a drink?” Was the first thing you said and it was directed at Ghost. If you could scream at yourself, you would. No introductions, no “sorry for interrupting” or “I hope you guys are having a good night”. Immediately going for “do you want a drink and take me home?”. This wasn’t you.

Neither was almost beating a man to death, so you were finding out new things about you all the time.

You didn’t pay attention to the rest of the guys, who looked wildly at each other. This was NOT what they had expected but they stayed silent. Many people didn’t approach Ghost but here you were.

He stayed silent as well, taking note of your facial expression and watching as it fell. Taking his silence for rejection. Before you could apologize and turn around, his voice came out from the mask and if you survived this whole ordeal, you would beg him to read a manual so you could masturbate to it later.

“Bourbon. Kentucky.”

A smile laced your lips as you nodded and turned around to order it for him. He decided rather quickly that he liked your smile and wanted to see it more. Ignoring the rest of his team, he got up and silently followed you up the bar. You snagged a place by the wall and waited as the bartender completed your request.

You couldn’t ignore the behemoth of a man standing next to you and you couldn’t stop your face from warming up as you realized how close you two were standing.

“Not y’r usual scene, luv?” His voice vibrated through you. Addicting. You chuckled looking up at him.

“That obvious?”

“Dead give away.” His gloved lightly touched your shirt, but you could swear he just set it on fire. You couldn’t help but also blush at how ridiculous you must look. You laughed at yourself.

“I guess I didn’t see what I put on before getting here.” You tried explaining lamely, suddenly thankful the bartender chose to drop off his drink.

“Put it on my tab. ‘ers too.” The way he said it made your argument die on your tongue. Of course you could pay for it, but how could you say no?

You could see him pull his mask up and you found the bar to be interesting, desperate to give him privacy.

He would be lying if he said that didn’t make his cock hard. Look at you. Being so obedient and so polite. Fuck, it was gonna kill him. After his mask was back on, you turned back to him, losing yourself in his dark eyes.

“Thank you.” In your head, it was confident and stern but in reality, it barely came out a whisper.

“Wha’ do ya need, luv?” Getting straight to the point, and it brought you back to why exactly you were here in the first place.

You weren’t here to flirt with guys in skull masks. You were here because you were in trouble and you needed help. You couldn’t help the broken inhale or the way you chest shuddered. Ghost clocked all of it. Suddenly, his dark thoughts became even darker.

Something was wrong with his little luv and he wanted to fix it. No, he needed to fix it.

“I’m…kind of in a bind. And I don’t know what to do.” He hummed at that. He glanced back to his table before meeting your eyes.

“Your place or mine?”

You explained you didn’t drive here and asked if you should get a cab. He declined, stating he’ll take you both. Giving him directions to your place, you couldn’t help but be surprised at his vehicle of choice: a black Harley. You should have guessed but it still made you stutter. He looked over at you with your wide eyes and eyebrows near your hair line and laughed. Deep and velvety and it grew a flower inside of your chest that you couldn’t explain away.

“Scared, luv?” Ghost chuckled, fixing to put his helmet over your head. “Hang on tight.” Watching him mount his bike should be considered illegal, and you couldn’t help the clench of your thighs as you took in this specimen.

It had been way too long.

He turned on his bike as you got behind him and hanging on to him tightly, he began the ride back to your house. Your prison. You soaked in his warmth and the way his muscles contracted against your chest. He was all muscle and it had been too long since you felt muscle. You wished the drive was longer, so you could pretend that maybe you actually went to the bar looking for fun, and you really did pick up a guy and now you were headed back to your place to see how far you would go. You could actually be normal.

But all dreams end and yours ended rather quickly as he pulled up to your driveway. You waited for him to kill the bike and tell you it’s okay to let go. He does after a moment. He didn’t want you to know how good it felt having you wrapped around him. Like you belonged there. Like you belonged with him.

Tearing the helmet off and shaking your head, you hand it back with a small ‘thanks’. You both stared at each other before his eyes left yours to look over at place. Jogging your place to memory. Now he knew your address, and if you thought he wasn’t coming back, well, you would be sorely mistaken.

“Cute place.” His voice melted you and you couldn’t help but give him genuine smile. You did appreciate his comment, you had worked hard on your yard and house. This was yours. You wanted to make it perfect.

You begin walking to your front door as your heart went into overdrive. You feel like you should turn him away. You should get a rain check. You wanted this guy to come back, not help you with this. You didn’t want to scare him away. Before you knew it, both of you stood in the front door as you dug in your pocket for your house key. Finding it quicker than later, your hands shook as you unlocked the door. Before you could do the logical thing and stop him from coming inside and discovering one of your deepest and darkest secrets, you swing the door open and step inside.

It was quiet, thankfully, as you allowed this hunk of man to walk in after you and close your door.

Ghost didn’t know what to expect. You still haven’t told him what issue you were having and his mind was going wild. Was it a boyfriend issue? Landlord being a prick? Stalker who couldn’t get the message?

Looking over your house, he thought it was too fucking cute. Maybe you had a rat issue and didn’t have a man to help you out. Of course, Ghost would help you out. And you two would be discussing payment later after it was done.

He took in your soft yellow lights filling the room. An older episode of ‘Doctor Who’ playing silently as his eyes took in your posters that covered your walls. Some of them were older movies. A few he recognized, like ‘The Thing’ by John Carpenter and ‘Legally Blonde’ with Elle Woods. He had Johnny to thank for having control over the TV one night in the barracks and he didn’t want to admit that it caught his attention more than not.

Your bookshelf caught his eye next as he took in your collection. A few were a book series that he didn’t know but they looked fantasy in nature, and others were one offs and some horror books scattered around but one that caught his eye and made him turn back to you was: ‘How to tie up your partner properly and 99 other things BDSM related.”

He couldn’t help the smile, even if you couldn’t see it.

“In a bin’, yeah?” Your cheeks violently heated up as you realized he clocked your books and saw one that must have peaked your interest. You crossed your arms and laughed, heading now towards the kitchen to stir the crockpot, to keep yourself busy.

“Sorry about those. I don’t really get much company. They’re just for looks. Like gag gifts.” You tried to explain. Ghost followed you and took in a big whiff of what was one of the best things he's ever smelled before.

Look at you in your perfect little home, not scared to go to a bar filled with bad men, approaching him like it wasn’t a death sentence and respecting his privacy while he drank. And fuck. The food smelled delicious. You were perfect. Absolutely perfect.

“‘t’s okay, luv. You give me whatever’s cookin and I’ll get you in and out of any bin’ you want.” You thought he was still lightly making fun of you. You couldn’t be further from the truth. You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Your heart was thumping thinking that the garage was too quiet. Was the man sleeping or did he escape? Was he waiting for you to check on him before attacking you again? Would this new man actually help?

Did you make the worst mistake of your life?

Deciding no time like the present, you needed advice and sooner the better, you stood by the door, less than a foot away from Mr. Tall, Dark and Sexy and took a deep breath in.

“I was hoping you could help me with this. Help me…navigate. I don’t know how to explain it, so I wanted to show you first and then tell you, if that’s alright?” Your voice started off strong but got quieter as time went on. Ghost suddenly became rigid and aware of his surroundings. He couldn’t think of what could possibly be behind that door that you so desperately didn’t want to show him, but had to. You needed help. And you found him.

It didn’t matter what was behind that door. Of course he would help you, sweet thing. And then he would eat dinner with you, then fuck your brains out and while you were sleeping, install some security cameras before asking you out on a proper date.

You had interested the beast when you walked in bar, and his interest has only been growing since.

“Go ahead luv, I got you. I’m ‘ere.” His voice shouldn’t have calmed you as much as it did, but you couldn’t stop the wave crashing over you. You trusted him and that was terrifying.

Unlocking the door, you swung it open.

The smell was the first thing to hit him.

Dried blood and sour piss wafting in and leaking into your home. The darkness was consuming and you couldn’t see a inch in front of you until you flicked on the light and your horror scene could be fully realized by the man in the skull mask.

Other than the small green car that had its back door opened with dried blood covering the seat, a small freezer near the back exit and a shelf full of canned goods, there was a bloody man, tied up with his head off to one side, either dead or passed out.

“I know what it looks like but-“

“Little dove, this is exactly what you think it looks like.” You expected him to sound horrified, or at least disgusted. Not…amused. It startled you but you kept your cool. Maybe this was his initial reaction. He certainly wasn’t expecting this, you assume.

You head to the freezer to grab a bottle of alcohol. Rum. Ghost closes the door with you three in the garage and walks to the tied up man. He takes note of his stained and soiled clothes, multi-day stubble and greasy hair. Ghosts gloves hand reaches out and grips the man by the hair, waking him up and forcing him to look at Ghost with a dazed look before all sleep vanished and what was left was pure rage. Ghost held out his other hand for the bottle, which you did as you were told. He quickly made do with the cap before pushing the man’s head back and pouring some in his mouth.

“How d’ you end up here? Honestly.” His voice dropped lower than you had heard it before. It was terrifying and made you realize how nice he had sounded before. How much you enjoyed that.

The man tried to turn towards you but Ghosts hand wrapped tighter around his hair, refusing to let him move an inch. “Not at her. Me.” He commanded and you realized quickly that this man wasn’t just a soldier but a leader. A commander in his own right. It was terrifying and yet, strangely, horribly turned you on.

It had been way too long, you completely decided.

He had gave you back the bottle which you took gently before standing away from the two, trying to stay out of the attackers eye sight, trying to listen to the man who was clearly in charge now. The attacker sneered, his lips curled back as he gauges the guy that held him.

“This stupid fucking bitch-” before you could put together what happened, the attackers head snapped back and he yowled in pain. Fresh blood spurting out from his nose as now he laid crooked and absolutely broken. Ghost didn’t give him a second before yanking him back to him, anger now littering his voice.

“Wanna try tha’ again without insulting my little dove?” You couldn’t stop the warmth from flooding you. When was the last time someone spoke about you like that? Protected your character like it was your job?

You were definitely going to call him after this, you thought happily to yourself in this middle of the chaos.

“Oh fuck you man. Your girl is a fucking cunt-”

Another hit and after that Ghost began walking away, beckoning you with his fingers, which you obeyed without a care in the world. The man was left to himself screaming and when the door closed on him, his screams were greatly reduced but still there if you listened. And you did. You stayed quiet, gauging what the newcomer thought. Ghost stayed silent, and inched his hand to the bottle that you held which you gave him graciously. He pulled his mask up to drink and you looked away again, but you could hear it pour down his throat and it settled something warm in you. Once he was done, he pulled his mask back down and gave you the bottle and you followed lead. The rum eased some of your anxiety, letting you feel warm as you pulled off your shoes and sat on your couch, waiting for him to join.

Ghost grabbed a chair before dragging it and sitting it directly in front of you, invading your space. You wouldn’t complain. Maybe he wasn’t close enough…

“So, luv. I was expecting some boyfriend issue. Maybe dirty landlord, or a fuckin’ rat. But kidnapping and torture? Well. If you didn’t have my interest before, you definitely got it now.” His accent was deeper and darker but you couldn’t say if he was angry or not. Your eyes dropped from his in shame and landed on his chest before his fingers lightly gripped your chin to lift them back to his. You gulped before you nodded. Fear soaked you through and through. You needed to tell him your story. You needed him to understand.

“Well, I was driving home from after work…”

#cod #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #drabble #THOUGHTS #FEELINGS #THIS IDEA HAS BEEN IN MY HEAD FOR OVER A YEAR #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod men #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #eventual smut #it’s so long I’m so sorry 😭

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imzadi-caskett-huddy · 1 day

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Break First (1/1)

I know I owe you guys chapters on “Hell Hath No Fury” and “It Started With a Kiss.” Trust me, I know. And I would love to be writing them for you. However, as I was listening to some music, minding my own business, this idea hit me BAM! Like lightning. And now instead of writing the fics I’ve already got going, I’m writing this one-shot to get it out of my head so I can get back to my regular scheduled fic writing.

This fic takes place after “The Limey” in season 4. The fic is inspired by the song “Break First” by Faith Hill and Tim McGraw. If you look it up to watch on YouTube, I recommend watching one of the versions from their live concert because their chemistry together is unreal. The words will appear in the fic, so it’s not completely necessary to look up the song…but you won’t regret it if you do. You’ll get more emotion behind the words if you listen to them with the music as opposed to if you just read them.

I do not own the song “Break First,” nor do I own Castle.

xxxxx

Standing at the bar tryin’ to get a drink

Got one I haven’t touched at the table

Somebody said you’re here, but I ain’t gonna leave

Maybe I’ll just act like you’re a stranger

Kate was sitting at the airport bar next to the handsome Scotland Yard Detective Inspector, nursing her glass of whiskey…whiskey, because after the day–well, few days–she’d had, there was no way she could settle for beer or even wine, and her only answer when Colin had asked what she wanted had been to say whatever he was drinking.

There was nothing particularly wrong with Colin. He was ridiculously handsome, sexy even…she’d snuck a peek at his body when his towel had dropped. He definitely checked off all the boxes from a physical standpoint. He was interesting enough, and even if he wasn’t, he had an accent that automatically made everything he said more interesting simply because of how it sounded coming out of his mouth. They even had things in common professionally.

So no…Colin wasn’t a bad date. But she found herself doing her best to feign interest as he talked, as her mind kept wandering. She kept replaying how Castle had pulled up to her crime scene in his Ferrari with that blonde floozy, and much as it had that night, she felt her heart clench and a sinking feeling in her gut. Lanie’s voice echoed in her head–Like you waited too long. She took a drink of her whiskey at that thought.

As if on cue, she spotted him…no, them taking an empty table across the bar. Jacinda. She was pressed against his side like she was glued there, and Kate guessed she may as well have been with the way Castle’s hand was around her waist, holding her against him. And then her damn eagle eye spotted the blonde’s hand running up along his inner thigh; a wave of jealousy,

anger, and hurt rolled through her body, and she felt almost sick…definitely like she’d just been sucker punched.

Do you know how hard it is, tryin’ to hold a conversation

Knowing you’re right there across the room

So I don’t hear a word that they’re sayin’

No I don’t hear a word that they’re sayin’

“I’m sorry, Kate; I’m boring you,” Colin apologized, realizing he’d lost her attention.

“What? No…no, you aren’t boring me,” she tore her eyes away from the scene that was breaking her heart as she finished the alcohol in her glass and ordered another. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a long few days,” she apologized, turning to face the bar in front of her completely so she no longer had to watch Castle get a handjob from his latest squeeze underneath his table.

Colin studied her a moment before turning to look in the direction she’d been staring daggers at moments ago. Seeing Castle and a blonde woman, he turned back to her. “Must be hard working with your ex. How long ago did you break up?”

“We didn’t break up.” Seeing his confused look, she continued. “He’s not my ex,” Kate told him simply.

“Really? I could have sworn you two…”

“No,” Kate interrupted him. “Castle and I have never dated,” she exaggerated her annunciation of the word dated as the bartender placed a fresh glass in front of her, and she took a drink.

“Ah,” Colin nodded his understanding then. “But there’s something there?”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I thought so.”

“But you don’t think so anymore?”

Kate offered a half-shrug and took another sip of her drink, letting the burn of the alcohol take the edge off the sting of it all. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Who’s gonna walk up and say “Hi”

Then lean in a little too close to whose lips

Say “What the hell are we doin'?”

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Castle had spotted her almost as soon as he’d entered the bar with Jacinda. He was a writer…he paid attention to the details. Even with the uncomplicated distraction of the attractive woman on his arm, there was no way he wouldn’t spot Kate. Unfortunately, he also spotted him. Of course, she was there with Scotland Yard. Just one more guy she could add to the list of men she dated. It seemed like she was willing to date anyone but him…almost as though the first criteria a man had to meet to score a date with Kate Beckett was to simply not be Richard Castle.

He watched as the other man placed his hand on her arm, earning a small smile from her in return. The Englishman stood from his seat at the bar then, and Castle was relieved it seemed like he was leaving. Only then he leaned in and placed a kiss on Beckett’s cheek, and Castle saw red. He immediately slid the hand that had been on Jacinda’s waist down to her ass, leaning in to whisper into her ear with a smile, his lips grazing the skin of her neck.

I’m dancing with a girl, got my eyes closed

Actin’ like I’m lost in the music

All I’m thinkin’ ‘bout is holdin’ you close

I don’t know how much longer I can do this

When he pulled back slightly from Jacinda and braved a glace in Kate’s direction, he was pleased to find that Scotland Yard was gone. He’d probably had to catch his flight. But Kate was still there, drinking alone now. Part of him wondered if she’d noticed him come into the bar with Jacinda. Part of him hoped she had, wanted her to see the way the blonde woman wanted him, touched him. Part of him wanted her to know that he didn’t need her.

Only…he did. Because while the flight attendant was attractive and fun and uncomplicated, she just…wasn’t Kate. She wasn’t as beautiful as Kate. She wasn’t as witty as Kate. She didn’t smile or laugh like Kate. She definitely wasn’t as brilliant or as intelligent as Kate. Her eyes weren’t the right shade…her hair wasn’t the right color. He hated himself but he still wanted her…he still wanted Kate. Jacinda was nothing more than a blonde distraction, the same way Gina had been.

He closed his eyes, letting his mind play tricks on him, letting his mind convince him that it was Kate he had his arm around; it was Kate who had her body pressed up against his, whispering seductively into his ear; it was Kate’s hand on his thigh. For as long as he kept his eyes closed, it worked. As long as he kept his eyes closed, he could pretend that she loved him too, that she was with him…finally. Kate... But when he opened his eyes, it wasn't Kate’s hazel eyes looking back at him.

Do you know how hard it is, bein’ in this situation?

Knowing you were everything

And now havin’ to act like we’re nothing

And pretendin’ that I don’t still love you

“Who’s Kate?”

Castle froze. Shit. He hadn’t realized he’d said her name out loud, but obviously he had. “She’s nobody. Just…a character in a chapter of a book I’m writing,” he tried to cover. “I was trying to figure out how to say goodbye to her. Her chapter in my book is over.”

Jacinda wasn’t as quick or as brilliant as Kate, but she wasn’t completely dumb either. “Sounds more like an old girlfriend to me,” she stated, pulling back from him slightly.

“Well, she’s not,” he shrugged. “In fact, I can promise you that she is not now, nor has she ever been, my girlfriend.” That part was painfully true, unfortunately.

“I’ve got to go, Ricky. My flight is boarding soon,” she told him, slipping out of his grasp.

“Jacinda, wait…”

She paused and leaned in to give him a gentle kiss. “When you finish working out whatever is going on with whoever Kate is, give me a call,” she told him, offering him a small smile before exiting the bar.

Castle sighed deeply. Damn it. He hadn’t ordered a drink when they’d entered because he was being nice about the fact that Jacinda couldn’t have one right before she went on duty. But now he definitely needed a drink. Only he couldn’t go up to the bar because Kate was still sitting there.

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Who's gonna walk up and say “Hi”

Then lean in a little too close to whose lips

Say “What the hell are we doin’?”

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Kate noticed the blonde leaving the bar out of the corner of her eye. She decided she had enough of this…whatever this was. Tossing back what was left of her whiskey, she placed her glass on the counter and slid out of the chair. She wasn’t drunk by any means…no, Kate Beckett could hold her liquor. But her filter was no longer operational after 3 glasses of whiskey. She marched right over to his table. She didn’t bother with pleasantries, she cut right to the chase. “What the hell are you doing?”

His eyes narrowed at her. “What the hell am I doing? What the hell are you doing? I thought you said Scotland Yard…”

“His name is Colin,” Kate interrupted him angrily.

“Fine…I thought that Colin was flying back to London,” he countered, his own anger flaring.

“He did.”

“His departure for London obviously made him irresistible to you. Can’t get much more one foot out the door than a relationship with a man who is a 7-hour flight away from you,” he stated.

“Why do you care? Didn’t you have a date with Jacinda?” she practically spat her name.

“Jealous?” he smirked smugly.

“Of your flight attendant floozy? Please,” she snorted. But oh…she was jealous. Jealous of the way Castle looked at her. Jealous of the way Castle talked about her. Jealous of the way he so easily handed the keys to his Ferrari…his Ferrari…to her. Jealous of the fact that Jacinda had driven his Ferrari more in 3 days than she had in 3 years.

“You sound jealous.”

Kate clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes. “I’m not jealous. If you want to fuck your way through Delta’s entire fleet of flight attendants, be my guest. Just keep them the hell away from my crime scenes, and the hell away from my investigations,” she growled.

“Because you never mix business with pleasure,” he commented sarcastically.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorenson…you kissed him at the house of the kidnapped girl. Demming…you kissed him in the precinct, slept with him while you were working together too. Josh…paraded him around the precinct and couldn’t keep your hands off him. Now Colin. Only a matter of time before you sleep with him too…assuming you haven’t already. And those are just the ones I know about,” he said lowly.

She swallowed hard, her hands clenching into fists as her anger flared. They were standing almost toe to toe now, staring each other down…no, more like glaring at each other. Her eyes were getting watery, and she hated, hated the fact that when she got this angry the tears came without her permission and were completely out of her control. “You’re a jackass,” she hissed lowly.

“You’re a coward and a liar,” he growled, trying to mask his hurt behind the venom in his tone.

Who’s gonna say, “What were we thinkin’?

Who’s gonna cut right through the tension?

Who’s gonna admit that they miss who worse?

Who’s gonna tell who how bad it hurts?

His words felt like a slap in the face, made her heart feel like it were being ripped apart by that bullet all over again. For a moment, she found herself wishing it had been a bullet ripping through her heart again; at least a bullet’s damage could be repaired easily by a doctor. The damage his words were causing, however, would require much more than the skilled hands of a surgeon.

Their eyes never left each other as they remained in their glare-down, standing so close they were invading each other’s personal space, neither one willing to back down. It wasn’t until she felt a couple of rogue tears slipping down her cheeks that she was finally the one to break first. “What the hell are we doing?” The words were soft when they fell from her lips, and she couldn’t hide the hurt in them. “What did I do to make you hate me?”

He simply stared hard at her for a moment before his eyes finally softened just slightly. “I don’t hate you.” He didn’t hate her. He could never hate her. But he did want to hurt her, inflict some pain the way she’d hurt him.

“Really? Because from where I’m sitting, it sure as hell feels like you do,” she wiped her cheeks. “I miss my partner…I miss my friend…I miss…you. So please…just…tell me what I did. Because this…” she gestured between them, “this hurts.”

“You want to talk about hurt?” he started. “Do you have any idea how much it hurts to find out everything you believed in for almost a year, hoped for, were working toward for so long is nothing more than a lie from a coward too afraid to just come out and tell you it was never gonna happen?”

She shook her head. “Castle, what are you talking about?” She genuinely had no idea where all of this was coming from.

“I heard you,” he finally stated lowly.

“You heard me?” she shook her head, still not following.

He just stared at her. Did she really not know? “In interrogation. With the bombing suspect.”

She stared back at him, trying to put the pieces together. And then it clicked. Oh shit. “Castle…” she started. “It’s not what you think.”

“It’s not what I think?! Kate, you lied to me…this whole time you knew, you knew how I felt about you. And you said nothing!” he said lowly, the anger overruling the hurt in his tone at the moment. “And what’s worse…you made me think there was something between us, something worth waiting for. But the whole time…everything…it was all just a damn lie.”

That’s what all this was about. He’d been waiting for her…and now he thought there was nothing worth waiting for. “Castle, please…just…just let me explain…”

“Explain what, Kate? That instead of just telling me the truth you would rather lie? That you would rather just string me along for God knows what reason instead of just putting me out of my misery? That you would rather be in a relationship with literally anyone but me?”

“Castle, that’s not it!” she tried.

“I’m so tired of this dance, Kate. I’m so tired of doing this with you. Just…just tell me you don’t feel the same and let me go on with my life, let me get over you.”

“Castle…”

“Tell me!” he insisted.

“I love you, okay!” she finally practically yelled at him. Only the fact that the bar was busy kept her confession from being overheard by more than just a few of the closer patrons who, thankfully, didn’t seem to pay them much attention outside of a wayward look at the commotion.

He was frozen at her words. So was she. The look of panic in her eyes told him that she had no more meant to say those words than he had expected to hear them from her. But they were out now. “What?”

She was still frozen, like a deer in headlights. She could feel her heart racing as the walls seemed to be closing in. She could feel the grip of panic rising in her throat. And like a deer in headlights, she turned and ran.

“Kate!” he called after her. But she had caught him off guard with her words and her sudden movement, and it took him a few seconds to get his body to move to chase after her. By the time he made it out to the main terminal, he couldn’t spot her through the crowd of people heading for baggage claim at JFK. Damn it! But he knew where she was going. It was late, she didn’t have a case…she’d go home. And he’d meet her there. This was not over.

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Who’s gonna walk up and say “Hi”

Then lean in a little too close to whose lips

Say “What the hell are we doin’?

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

“Kate!” he stood outside her apartment, banging on her door. When she didn’t open it, he kept banging. “Kate! I’m not leaving until you open the door and talk to me!” He banged on the door again to reiterate his point.

She stood on the other side of the door, her back leaning against it as she wrestled with herself over what to do. She could test him…let him keep banging and yelling and maybe he would get tired and just leave…but she would have angry neighbors. Or she could just open the damn door and face him. She’d rather have the angry neighbors. After a few moments of his continuous banging, she finally opened the door, ready to yell at him.

Only before she was able to say anything, he pushed into her apartment, took her face in his hands, and kissed her hard. The way he moved was so determined and swift that she had to grip his shirt to keep from falling backward. It took several moments for her to get past the shock of his action, but she finally gave herself over to the kiss, the grip on his shirt loosening slightly, her mouth softening under his lips.

His kiss was demanding and thorough. He’d loved her, wanted her, thought he would finally have her…only to have it ripped away because he thought she didn’t feel the same…to then have her admit, albeit accidentally, she did feel the same…and then run away from him. He was making it clear, there was no way she was getting out of this yet…they were going to work this out now. She wouldn’t be able to run from this.

When he finally pulled away, they both stared at each other breathing heavily for a few moments. Kate finally broke the eye contact and moved past him to close the door. “Castle…” she started, only to have him interrupt her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She sighed softly, leaning her forehead against the door for a moment before finally turning to face him. “At first I didn’t know what parts were true, what things actually happened, when they happened. Castle…there were so many flashes of things…I didn’t know which ones were real, which ones I’d hallucinated, or which ones were drug-induced. I was a mess…I had to work through so many issues…” she tried to explain. “By the time I actually remembered and knew it was real…there were so many other issues I needed to work through. I didn’t know how to deal with everything. But I never lied to you about what I wanted.”

“So the relationship you mentioned wanting to have…”

“It was with you. I should have just said that…I shouldn’t have expected you to understand what I meant…” she shook her head. “I’ve been seeing a therapist, Castle. He helped me work through my shooting, my PTSD…he’s helped me with my wall. He’s still helping me,” she told him quietly. “I see him once a week.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he found himself asking her again.

She shrugged. “I just wanted to show up and put in the work without making any excuses,” she answered.

“So this therapist…he’s helped?”

She nodded. “He has.” She was quiet for a few moments. “I need you to understand that me not telling you I remember has nothing to do with how I feel about you. It is and was about me...it never had anything to do with you,” she told him softly. “And I’m sorry…I never meant for you to find out the way you did. I was going to tell you…”

“When?”

She was quiet for another few moments. “After this case, actually. When I asked if you had a minute to talk.”

“Only I didn’t…” he realized, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m sorry, Kate��about Jacinda…I just, I thought…”

“I know what you thought,” she held up her hand to stop him. “Did you sleep with her?” she asked quietly after a few moments. She needed to know.

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m not going to lie…I tried. I wanted to. But every time we got close I…I couldn’t,” he admitted quietly. “I felt like I was cheating on you, and I couldn’t go through with it.”

“Castle…” she murmured, moving into his arms, burying her face in his chest and just inhaling him.

His arms wrapped around her tightly, resting his head on top of hers as he held her tightly. “I’m sorry…I’m so, so sorry…” he murmured.

Her arms tightened around him as well as she turned her head to look up at him. “Me too,” she

murmured. She tugged her lower lip between her teeth. “Are we…okay?” she asked nervously.

He looked down at her. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that, considering?” he asked softly.

“We’re ok,” she nodded, resting her head back against his chest.

He released a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. He hadn’t messed this up. “We’re ok,” he repeated with a smile.

She felt a weight lift off her chest as he repeated her words. She hadn’t messed this up. “Castle…” she looked up at him. “That wall I told you about? It’s coming down,” she told him.

“I’d like to be here when it does,” he told her seriously.

She bit her lip again as she smiled slightly. “Maybe…we can knock the rest of it down together?”

“You mean…?” he trailed off with his question, wanting to make sure they were understanding each other since they seemed to have issues actually communicating with anything beyond subtext.

“I mean together,” she nodded. “I’m tired of waiting. We’ve both waited long enough, don’t you think?”

Her words brought a smile to his face. “Together…” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her, this one much slower and more gentle than the last.

She smiled against his lips, her hands sliding up his back to pull him closer as she returned his kiss. "So...can I drive your Ferrari now?" she asked softly with a smile.

He chuckled at that. "Kate, you can drive my Ferrari whenever you want," he promised, kissing her again.

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Who’s gonna break?

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

xxxxx

So this fic didn’t exactly go way I had envisioned it when the idea struck me, but I’m still pretty pleased with how it turned out.

And now I can go back to writing the newest chapters for Hell Hath No Fury and It

Started With a Kiss.

I hope you all enjoyed this little angsty piece. I look forward to your comments!

#castle #caskett #kate beckett #richard castle #castle fanfiction

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eddsworldgt · 2 years

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Blarg uhhhhh I think this blog is dead oops

But! It'll stay on Tumblr, and I'm just gonna move some of my stuff from here over to my new, not fandom specific blog, (@dingbatnix). It'll mostly be the stories, I think. I'm doing cause I don't wanna add anything to this one, and I don't want to change the name, so, new blog! As a bonus to it, I can do content for whatever my currenthyperfixation is (currently mcyt) so, uh

See you at my other blog, if yall want

#oof #still might do eddsworld content #i have a few fics i never finished after all #anyway #im just gonna reblog the stories from here to there and add them to my masterlist #sound good?#good

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seekerstone · 1 year

Text

yesterday i was literally dragging myself along by my fingertips sobbing the whole time abt how i didn’t want to write and it was too hard & then today had the errant thought that all i had to do to be done with nano was write the remaining 13k

…so i’m sitting at 2k already logged today and i’m planning on writing at LEAST a thousand more words tonight. ideally as many as, say, 4.3k more. just hypothetically. maybe another 6.3k tomorrow to bring my total up to 12.6k in two days. my monthly total up to 50k. who’s to say, really

#the moon speaks #writing shit #never underestimate my ability to churn out words once i have a goal in mind #such as finally getting the freedom to write silly little aus again #only 10.6k left to go why i could practically do that all tonight #next year.. next year will be easier bc i can start on the sequel instead #turns out ''finishing'' a book for nano is way harder than ''starting'' it #at this point i basically ONLY have the mystery scenes and the really fucking hard ones i don’t want to write #o how i long for the days when i had chapters upon chapters to fill at my leisure #i think for the year after next i’ll just do a fic probably. maybe a few. go more for the daily word count and productive than the #traditional novel writing goal. ofc that means i gotta finish zenith2 on my own time but i’m sure i can do that #hehe…#ANYWAY . i’m so close and then i can write crack taken seriously octavia pov ship fics again #how i’ve missed you my dears #no but actually the funniest part is bc i want all the badges i’m gonna have to keep writing even past 50k #so i can get that updated all 30 days badge. you will be mine completionist achievement #it’s fine though i’ve decided au fic words will count towards that as long as they’re zenith (i don’t write anything else)

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alastorss · 3 months

Note

I really enjoyed the "touching Alastor's antlers" fic! Good stuff! I was wondering if I could request reader playing with his hair and braiding it maybe? Thanks for being great! Drink water and eat a snack :p

a/n: hello!! thank you for your kind words ^ ^ i hope you enjoy this fluff!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor can't pinpoint when exactly you developed such a strange habit of playing with his hair.

He first noticed it when Angel started giving him funny looks, pointing out the braids in his hair and that they were rather charming. Of course, the Radio Demon was quick to dismiss the star's claims that they suited him.

After that, he began finding little braids in his hair with or without others seeing them first. Like, for example, he would see them when he was dressing in the morning and peering into a mirror. Or other times he would see his reflection in his deep mug of coffee. They were less of a nuisance and more of a mystery than anything.

It had to be your work, surely. No one else would ever think to do something so pointless to him. And if this were some weak attempt to humiliate him in front of his peers, anyone else wouldn't have dared.

However, he never had any real evidence that it was you messing with him.

He should probably do something about it. It would be bad for his reputation if word got out that he kind of liked the delicate work of your fingers.

��｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Once he's had enough of the mystery, Alastor decides to catch you in the act.

He turns his back to you on purpose, hogging the blankets as he always does, and pretends to be asleep. And just as he expected, your hands are in his hair less than ten minutes later.

Glaring at the wall, he lets you finish whatever it is you've done to his locks before he suddenly spins around in the bed to face you.

Satisfaction fills him as you yelp, scooting back in the sheets and sitting upright fast as lightning.

"You were awake?!"

Alastor just stares at you with narrow, unamused eyes.

"So it is you!"

You swallow loudly, nervously fidgeting with the blanket as the demon sits up in bed beside you. He scrutinizes your reaction, how shy you look, and his smile softens.

"It helps me sleep," you admit awkwardly. He watches as you fiddle with your fingers, unable to meet his eyes.

Alastor sighs with an exasperated shake of the head. "You simply could have told me, darling. No need to keep such a silly little thing a secret."

You perk up at his words. "You don't mind?"

He minds less than he'd like to admit, really. It also explains why he's been the little spoon so often lately.

"Not at all."

You breathe a slow sigh of relief before you're dragged into his arms. He lets you mess around with his hair that night, too. And he stays up a bit longer until your hands fall limp against the pillow beside his head.

The next day, Angel is surprised to see that the oh-so-feared Overlord has quite a few braids left in his hair.

He decides they suit him after all.

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling (send an ask to be added!)

#🍓 faye's thoughts <3 #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #alastor fanfic #alastor fluff #alastor headcanons #alastor x you #alastor fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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scuderiahoney · 4 months

Text

Be Brave

Oscar Piastri x reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a teacher, and someone’s had the brilliant idea to send your class full of 5 year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre. Chaos ensues. Oscar’s there to help.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: none

a/n: this is not the angst I threatened or the fic from the dialogue poll I did, but a secret third thing: a request I finally got the motivation to finish after seeing cute pics of Oscar with kids. Enjoy!

In hindsight, whoever’s idea it was to bring a classroom of five year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre- an active car factory- has definitely never stepped foot in a classroom full of five years olds. You’re lucky- your students are quite well behaved, and you’ve got plenty of parent chaperones with you. It turns out that about half your class’ families seem to be McLaren fans. Half your students had showed up today in bright orange- papaya, one of them had corrected you. You’re not complaining- it makes them easier to spot.

The field trip has been fun. The kids are thrilled about everything. It’s just. Tiny hands, tiny humans, wandering through an active car factory? You’re on edge the whole time. You’re constantly scanning the class, counting to make sure you haven’t lost any students as the tour guide tries to explain mechanical engineering in words that 5 year olds will understand.

You breathe a mild sigh of relief when they bring you into a large, open conference room. They’re going to have someone come speak to the kids in a few minutes. While you have the chance, and a closed room with enough people to guard the exits, you stand in front of your class and tell them to go wild. Seventeen five year olds begin to run around the room. One 5 year old clings to your hand in the quietest corner of the room.

Sammy. He’s a quiet kid, not one for the chaos. He’s stuck to your side the whole morning, staring at everything with big eyes and jumping at all the loud noises. You relate to him more than you’d like to admit. Somehow, the quiet kid turned into a teacher. It seems almost hard to believe looking back, how painfully shy you were.

Sammy tugs on your hand and points at a large mural on one of the walls. “Who’s that?” He asks.

The room you’re in has the two current drivers plastered on the walls, larger than life. You look where he’s pointing and smile.

“That’s Oscar Piastri,” you say, extending the syllables for him.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” he sounds out. “That’s my dad’s favorite driver.”

You smile. “Wanna know a secret?” He nods, and so you whisper loudly. “He’s my favorite too.”

Sammy giggles. “Oscar Piastri.”

“He says it better than most of the broadcasters, I think,” says someone behind you.

You turn and come face to face with none other than Oscar Piastri. You hope your shock isn’t too obvious, and you try to control your wide eyes. They’d said someone from the team was going to come talk to your kids- you hadn’t expected it to be one of the drivers. You smile politely as you feel Sammy step behind your legs.

“Hi. Sorry about the…” you wave your hand in the general direction of the children running around behind you. “If they didn’t get some excercise they were never going to make it through the rest of the day.”

“No worries,” Oscar says, smiling brightly. He looks at Sammy where he’s hiding behind you. “Not this guy, though?”

“No, Sammy here is very well behaved and polite,” you say proudly, before whispering, “and quite shy.”

Oscar nods in understanding. His face has gone soft. You weren’t lying when you said he was your favorite, and it only increases with the way he looks at the five year old so fondly. You think maybe Oscar understands Sammy all too well. You turn over your shoulder to look at the little boy.

“Sammy, should we practice being big and brave and introducing ourselves?” You ask. He frowns slightly but nods anyways. “We’ll do it together, okay?”

He nods again and steps out from behind your legs. You stand up straight, and he follows suit. Then you stick your hand out to shake Oscar’s as you introduce yourself.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, repeating your name back to you. “I’m Oscar.”

Sammy takes a tentative step forward and sticks his tiny hand out. You drop back just a bit and pull your phone from your pocket, giving Oscar a questioning glance and making a camera sort of motion with your hands. He nods eagerly before he crouches down to Sammy’s level.

“My name is Samuel,” he says, as he shakes Oscar’s hand. “But you can call me Sammy.”

You hide an endeared laugh behind your hand and snap a picture of the two of them. You know his parents will be thrilled.

“Hi, Sammy,” Oscar says sweetly. “My name is Oscar. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You’re my dad’s favorite driver,” Sammy says. “And my teacher’s favorite driver. So I think you’re my favorite, too. Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You stare down at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling betrayed by your favorite student. Your face grows warm, but Oscar just laughs lightly and smiles up at you.

“Is that so?” He says, turning back to Sammy. “I’m honored.”

He stands back up, and Sammy goes back to clinging to your side. There’s a bright smile on Oscar’s face. You know yours matches it.

“So, are you our guest speaker?” You ask, trying to will your face to cool down.

He nods eagerly, eyes darting around the room, watching kids run everywhere. One of them bumps into the back of your legs and squeaks out a quick apology before running away again. He laughs lightly, hiding it behind his hand.

“Hopefully Lando and I can keep them entertained,” he says.

“Oh, they’ll be fine, they’ll sit quietly when I ask them to,” you say.

He gives you an uncertain look, a soft smirk on his lips. You laugh, hoping it’s not painfully obvious how taken you are with him. He’s been your favorite driver because of his level head and dry humor, but standing in front of him you can’t help but notice how cute he is. Before he can say anything in response and challenge your ability to control your class, Lando comes stumbling into the room.

“Okay, now this is my kinda school trip,” he says, an impressed grin on his lips. He elbows Oscar. “This was me as a kid.”

Oscar gestures towards Sammy, still tucked against your leg. “This was me, I think.”

Lando laughs and nods. He tilts his head at you, and you stick your hand out once again and introduce yourself. Sammy follows suit. Lando bends to shake the five year olds hand, giving both you and him an impressed smile.

“Sammy’s working on being big and brave and introducing himself,” Oscar says.

“Well he’s doing a great job,” Lando says with an approving nod.

“He’s got a great teacher,” Oscar says, grinning at you.

With that, your face grows hot again. You clear your throat and turn over your shoulder to look at the class. They’re beginning to slow just slightly. Perfect timing.

You clap your hands, and each of them skids to a stop, turning to look at you. “Okay, friends! Come sit up here, we have some very special guest speakers.”

The children all make their way to the front of the room, sitting down on the carpet in a semicircle. Even Sammy wanders away, taking a seat near the back. You turn back to Oscar and Lando, who both have impressed looks on their faces.

“I think we need you to run our meetings,” Oscar says, brows raised.

“Oh, if you give them permission to go crazy consistently when they need it, they’ll listen when you tell them it’s time to be calm,” you say with a shrug. “My mum was a teacher, too, she taught me that.”

“Yeah, if Zak let me be a menace before meetings I’d have a lot easier time sitting through them,” Lando agrees. “Alright, you little muppets!”

He steps in front of the class. Oscar gives you an exasperated smile, like you’re both sharing a moment of understanding. Maybe Lando’s still a 5 year old at heart. You laugh and step back with the chaperones to watch them speak as Oscar follows Lando’s lead. It’s fun to watch. You realize they couldn’t have picked better speakers.

Some of the kids recognize the drivers, but even the ones who don’t are enamored once they find out that these guys drive race cars for a living. You snap lots of pictures of your students staring up at them with wide grins. Lando continues to call them muppets, earning laughs each time. Oscar gets down on their level and uses a little model of the car to explain the aerodynamics. They give a horrible demonstration of slipstream, with Lando pretending to drive and Oscar pretending to be the air. Then, at the end, they open it up for questions. Eighteen tiny hands fly up into the air.

“Do you speed when you drive a normal car?” One of them asks.

“Never,” Lando lies.

“D’you ever fight with other drivers?” Another student asks.

“We try to leave what happens in the race on the track,” Oscar answers. “We’re all quite nice to each other outside of the races, actually.”

Lando shrugs and shakes his hand from side to side. A few of the kids catch on and laugh.

Sammy is sitting in the back of the group, his hand raised. He’s not waving it around, not bouncing up and down. But you watch Oscar scan the group, see him spot the tiny hand anyways.

“Sammy,” he calls out. “What’s your question?”

Sammy looks shocked to have been called on, but he clears his throat and speaks up. “What’s your favorite color?”

The grin that breaks across Oscar’s face is endearing. Lando smiles, too, presses his hand to his chest. You wait for the canned answer- papaya, you think.

“Mine’s bright green,” Lando says.

Oscar nods. “Mine is blue. What’s yours?”

“Mine is blue too,” Sammy answers.

“Good taste.” Oscar says. He exchanges a grin with you. You smile proudly at Sammy, so happy to see him step out of his shell just a bit.

The next student who gets called on says, “my mum told me to ask if you’re single,” and you clap your hands and walk towards the front.

“Okay, friends, I think Oscar and Lando have given us enough of their time,” you say. “Can we all say a big thank you?”

A chorus of little voices calls out varying forms of thank you. One of them screams it, and Lando winces. Oscar’s cheeks are pink, probably from the student asking about his relationship status. Is it bad that you almost wanted him to answer? You’re being ridiculous, you know. But his flushed face is cute, and you can’t help but smile at him.

You shake their hands one more time before they leave. “Thanks again. You’ve really just made their days.”

“We were happy to,” Oscar says.

“Yeah, you’ve got a good group of kids,” Lando agrees.

“And they’ve got a good teacher,” Oscar repeats his earlier comment.

You laugh, feeling your face grow hot. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Oscar goes to say something else, but someone leans in through the door and calls out to him and Lando. He smiles sheepishly as Lando urges him towards the exit, tugging on his shirt.

“It was nice meeting you!” Oscar calls out before he disappears through the doors.

You turn back to your class and refocus. It’s time to move on to lunch, which is always the worst part of any field trip. Someone comes by to bring your group to the cafeteria. Your field trip worst nightmare- a large, open room full of people. You make sure all the chaperones are set with their groups and head off.

It goes fine. At first. You get the kids settled at tables and do a quick head count. Everyone’s there. They provide lunch for the kids, so you help to hand them out to everyone. Eighteen five year olds sit quietly, eat sandwiches and drink juice. You breath a little sigh of relief.

Then the kids all decide they need to go to the bathroom. You split them up, send them with chaperones in groups. You stay back at the tables with the ones who say they don’t need to go, knowing full well that in ten minutes they’ll be whining for the restroom. You clean up spilled apple juice and eat half your lunch. The bathroom groups come back one by one. Seventeen five year olds sit down at the tables.

And no, that can’t be right. You count again. Seventeen. One more time- seventeen. There’s an empty seat. You turn to the nearest chaperone, who also has a panicked look on his face.

“Sammy,” he says, eyes wide. “He was in my bathroom group, I swore he came back with us-“

You can’t panic. You turn to the nearest McLaren employee and tell them the situation. The look on her face tells you she’s going to panic, so you take control of the situation. You ask her to get everyone on the lookout for him, to page him over the speakers. Then you turn to your class.

“Friends,” you say, loudly. “Has anyone seen Sammy?”

Casey, one of the louder boys, raises his hand. “He stopped to tie his shoes when we were coming back.”

You could strangle the parent for not noticing, for not keeping an eye on the kids, but you don’t have time for that. At the very least, you have a starting point. You delegate a couple chaperones to stay with the kids in the cafeteria, and enlist a couple others to help you look. Panic is itching at the back of your brain, but you keep it tamped down. You’ll find him, and then you’ll freak out about it.

You split up, wandering the halls and asking everyone if they’ve seen a shy five year old with dark hair. They all tell you no, but that they’ll keep their eyes peeled. You check around corners, behind doors, in conference rooms and offices. You think you accidentally interrupt what was likely a very important meeting, though when you explain you’re looking for a missing child the men in suits all seem to understand.

The longer it goes on, the more sick to your stomach you feel. It’s Sammy. He got separated from his group and probably panicked just like you want to do now. He could be anywhere. He’s tiny, he could be hiding somewhere you’d never even think to look. His parents are going to kill you-

Oscar calls your name. It’s probably odd that you already recognize his voice, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You turn to look at him, and relief washes over you. He’s standing at the end of the hallway, his hand holding onto Sammy’s. You want to march down the hallway to them, but instead you collapse against one of the walls and press your hand to your mouth. Oscar pulls him towards you.

“I found him wandering in the hallway upstairs,” Oscar says. “He said he got lost.”

You nod, crouching down to Sammy’s level. He hides behind Oscar’s legs slightly.

“You’re not in trouble,” you say. “It’s okay. You found a helper, right? We always say that, look for the helpers. It’s okay! But next time you stop to tie your shoe-“ Oscar muffles a laugh behind his hand at that. “-you tell a grown up, okay?”

Sammy nods solemnly. You stand back up.

“Thank you,” you say to Oscar. “I owe you one, big time.”

“No worries,” he says, shrugging. “Knew you must be freaking out, so.”

You reach for Sammy’s hand and head for the cafeteria. To your surprise, Oscar follows. You’re not complaining.

“I’ve only been teaching for a year,” you explain, though you doubt he cares. The nervous energy needs to go somewhere, you suppose. “And I still feel brand new, you know? And school trips- don’t even get me started.”

Oscar laughs. “But field trips were the best part of school.”

“I lost a five year old in a car factory,” you say dryly. “Field trips are much less fun as a teacher.”

Oscar nods in understanding, trying and failing to hide his laughter. You come into view of the cafeteria and start counting heads. There are seventeen other 5 year olds still sitting at the tables. Sammy joins them, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Oscar does too. You pull out your phone and call the other chaperoned who went off to look, and tell them to head back to the cafeteria. With any luck, you might still be able to finish the tour.

“He’s a good kid,” Oscar says fondly, and you smile.

“He’s my favorite,” you admit. “I was a shy kid, too.”

Oscar leaves soon after that with a soft smile and an even softer goodbye. You wish he was the one leading the tour, but you know that would never happen. You’re lucky enough to have had the chance to meet him. He’s the same age as you, and he’s a world famous racecar driver. He’s probably already forgotten your name.

The rest of the tour is uneventful. None of your students wander off, and all of them are well behaved. They spot photos of Oscar and Lando in the halls and point excitedly at them, calling out their names. Finally, you’re brought out onto the lawn near the lake, and you give the kids a few minutes to play in the grass. You have the strong urge to lay down on the lawn and let them run until they all pass out. They have boundless energy, but you’re exhausted.

Someone nudges your arm lightly. You turn, expecting it to be a kid or a chaperone, but you come face to face with Oscar again.

“Oh god, did I lose another one?” You ask frantically.

He laughs. “No, no! Just came by to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” you say in understanding. “Thanks again, you know, for finding Sammy and for talking to the kids. I don’t think they’re gonna stop talking about this for ages.”

Oscar’s cheeks are flushed. “I’m glad they had a good time.”

You nod. “I did too, even with all the chaos. You have a really cool job, you know?”

He shrugs. “Not as important as yours. Tiny minds, shaping the future, you know.”

You let out a puff of air. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just struggling to keep the tiny humans alive, let alone teach them anything.”

He’s staring at you with this warm look on his face. You like his smile. There’s something comforting about it.

“Nah, I see the way they look at you. And Sammy introduced himself, you taught him that,” Oscar says. “That’s way more important than shapes or letters.”

Your face grows even hotter. “Thanks, Oscar.”

You see the bus pulling up the road out of the corner of your eye. About time to round the kids up. You turn towards your class, who are running around on the grass.

“Well, I’ve got to get them rounded up to go back, so unless you want to get mobbed by tiny humans you might want to make a run for it,” you say. “They’re distracted now, but they’ve been talking about you all afternoon.”

Oscar laughs brightly. “Yeah. I’ll head out. Um- d’you maybe-“ he pauses, and when you turn to him he shakes his head. “Sorry. Maybe I need to go back to school. Just. Have a good rest of your day. It was lovely meeting you.”

“You too,” you say warmly. “Thanks again.”

He disappears and you watch him go. You wonder what he was going to say- it sounded an awful lot like a question. But he’s gone now, and you’ll probably never see him again, so you try and let it go. By the time you get your class back to the school, it’s almost time for pickup. They’re all half asleep at their desks, absolutely worn out. Parents come by one by one to pick them up, and when Sammy’s dad shows up, you pull him aside and explain everything, the worst feeling in your stomach.

He laughs and shakes his head. “He does that to us all the time. We’ll be on a walk and he just- stops. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Sammy wanders over as you’re still processing the fact that his dad isn’t mad. “Guess who I met?” He says, staring up at his dad with a wide grin.

“Who?” His dad asks.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” Sammy says.

“That’s actually true,” you chime in. “I have the pictures to prove it.”

His dad looks at you with wide eyes. “If you’d have led with that, I wouldn’t have even heard you when you said he got lost.”

Despite what Sammy’s dad said, you toss and turn all night. Thankfully, it’s a Friday, so you don’t have to teach the next day. Every time you close your eyes you think of seventeen tiny heads, and one missing, and you feel sick to your stomach again. When you finally do fall asleep, you dream of children disappearing and warm brown eyes paired with an Australian accent. You spend the weekend trying to get your mind off of all of it.

On Monday, Sammy’s mother brings him into the classroom earlier than normal. You’re still turning on the lights and straightening things when they come in. He’s holding a little bouquet of flowers, and your heart melts.

“Sammy wanted to apologize for getting lost,” his mother says. “We know you must’ve been very worried.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Sammy.”

He nods, and you take the flowers from him. Then he scurries away to the play area.

“It’s okay,” his mother says. “Peter said you were really beating yourself up over it.”

You shrug. “It’s my worst fear, you know? I hate school trips.”

She laughs. “You know, he really likes you. We were worried, with how quiet he is, that he’d hate school. But you make it fun for him. So thank you.”

You smile, unsure of what to say in response other than, “thank you.”

You turn to your desk to find a vase or a cup for the bouquet, and that’s when you see the other flowers. A mix of white peonies and white roses and greenery, with little orange flowers stuck between all of them. You stop in your tracks. Behind you, Sammy’s mother laughs.

“Got a secret admirer?”

You shake your head uncertainly. You’re not sure how anyone even got flowers into your classroom this early on a Monday. But there they are, sitting proud and pretty. There’s a note tucked into the stems with your name on it, and so you pull the little envelope out and open it.

Hi,

I hope you had a lovely time at the MTC. I really enjoyed meeting you. I’d love to take you out for dinner sometime. Hope this isn’t too forward,

Oscar

His number is written below. You let out a squeak. You can tell she wants to look over your shoulder or ask who it’s from, but she bites her tongue. Sammy’s your favorite student, and his parents are up there, too. But this feels like too much to share with a parent, so you shove the note in your pocket.

“Just a friend,” you lie.

“How sweet,” she says, nodding. “Well, I’d better be off. I’ll take Sammy out to the playground. We just wanted to stop in and chat.”

“Thank you,” you say, turning to her with a smile. “And sorry. Again.”

She gives you an amused smile. “It’s okay.”

You carry the note around in your pocket with you the whole day, unsure of what to do about it. Of course, all your students notice the flowers, and they tell all their friends at lunch, who then tell all their teachers. Suddenly everyone seems to need to borrow something from you, sticking their heads into your classroom and just then noticing the flowers. How pretty! Beautiful! Who are they from? You tell them all the same thing. A friend. It’s only when your favorite coworker, Maggie, comes into your classroom later that you finally tell someone.

The kids have all gone home for the day, and you’re cleaning up the last bits of paper from your class activity. She walks in and beelines for the bouquet on the desk.

“Okay, I have a theory,” she says.

“And what’s that?” You ask.

“Orange flowers,” she says. “Someone from your trip on Friday.”

“Papaya,” you correct softly.

“Huh?”

“They call it papaya, not orange,” you say. She gives you a look, one brow raised. “I know. I…”

You dig the envelope out of your pocket and throw it to her. She opens it and gasps, sinking down in your desk chair. She must reread it five times, letting out giddy noises.

“So when are you getting dinner?” She asks.

“I haven’t texted him yet,” you admit.

She stares at you with wide eyes. “He’s your favorite driver and he gave you his number and you didn’t text him?”

“That’s the thing though, Mags,” you say with a sigh. You lean against one of the desks. “He’s an F1 driver. I’m… me.”

“Yeah, and he liked you enough to send flowers to your classroom.”

“It’s not that, it’s…” you shrug. “Those guys date supermodels and actresses and pro athletes. I’m… a teacher.”

“Babe, if you don’t text him you’ll regret it,” she says. “Big time. Just give him a shot.”

You take your flowers home with you, placing them carefully in the passenger seat of your car. You set them on your kitchen counter. They oddly feel like they belong there, like that’s what the room has been missing, though you didn’t know it before. And as you sit there and eat dinner, you take out your phone and type in a new number.

…..

It takes a while for your schedules to line up, but when they finally do, you find that Oscar’s a fun person to go on a date with. Fun might be an understatement, actually. You’ve never had a better time on a date.

You’ve been texting since the day he sent you the flowers, back and forth trying to coordinate a date at first. And then it turned into little funny texts, photos of things throughout your days that made you both smile. You update him on your class, he tells you what chaos Lando’s been causing. He sends memes, and you send him ones back. By the time you actually see him in person again, it’s like you already know him.

You’d been worried that a date with someone like him was going to be a fancy restaurant that you would feel out of place at. But he suggests a little hole in the wall pub that he says is his favorite, and you eagerly agree. You meet him there in a casual outfit, jeans and a cute sweater. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweater too, his hair adorably messy. He has that same warm smile on his face.

The two of you sit and order, and any awkwardness you’d expected just isn’t there. It’s like you’re two old friends, already comfortable with each other. He jokes with you, and you match his dry humor step for step. He’s the only person you’ve ever been on a date with who doesn’t seem to bore of your stories about 5 year olds. His knee knocks against yours under the table, and you don’t pull away. You find yourself leaning closer, actually. You’re longing to reach across the table, to feel his skin against yours.

You look around later and realize it’s been quite a while since the two of you sat down. The restaurant is starting to empty out. Oscar seems to notice the same, and reluctantly asks for the bill, refusing when you try to pay for your own. You both stand up from the table and head for the door. You stop just outside, breathing in the cool night air.

He nods towards a nearby park. “Wanna take a walk?”

You definitely aren’t ready to say goodbye, so you agree. He sees you shiver slightly, and within seconds he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. It’s warm, like him, and it smells like him too. You smile bashfully up at him as you shove your arms through the sleeves. When your hand pops out, he wastes no time in linking your fingers together. You bite back a gasp.

His hand is warm against yours. It sends a shiver up your spine. You hold on tight to him and hope your palm isn’t sweaty.

He turns to look at you. “I had a really good time tonight.”

You smile. “Me too.”

“I was thinking, wondering I guess,” he says, “If you’d maybe want to do this again?”

You slow to a stop under a streetlight. He follows suit. You press your eyes shut.

“Oscar, I… I had a really good time. And I really like you,” you tell him. “But you’re world famous and I’m just me. I just don’t know…”

He squeezes your hand. “We can take it slow.”

You sigh and open your eyes to look at him. The fluorescent light shines off his fluffy hair and his cheekbones. He has a hopeful look in his eye that you’d hate to rid him of.

“You make me feel grounded,” he says. Your heart twists in your chest. “You have since that day at the MTC. You’ve just got this calming presence. And I think you’re funny, and pretty, and- yeah.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You tease.

He blushes. “Shut up.”

It’s scary, really, to think about. You want to try but he’s a bit intimidating, no matter how well you get along. And the attention that will come from dating him is even scarier. But you think of Sammy, hiding behind your legs, and how you’re trying to teach your students to be big and brave, and how you should try that, too.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “I think you’re pretty too,” you admit, just to watch his cheeks grow redder. A sheepish smile crosses his lips, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “And kind, and funny. So yeah. We should do this again.”

“Cool,” Oscar says.

“Cool,” you agree.

Then he kisses you under the streetlamp, his hand still linked with yours. And yeah, you could get used to this.

…..

Two months later, when Sammy comes into class, he points an excited finger at you.

“I saw you on TV!” He squeaks.

You laugh. “Did you?”

He nods assertively. “My mum said I was probably wrong, but I know it was you. You were holding hands with Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You laugh and put a finger to your lips. He takes the hint, but he laughs the whole way to his seat. You think it might be time to talk to Oscar about going public with your relationship. After all, if the five year olds are catching on, the adults will be soon, too.

When your students find out, they beg you to take them to a race. You think back to the McLaren field trip and decide you’re never, ever taking eighteen 5 year olds anywhere near a race track. That would be bad for everyone’s health. But when Sammy shows up as a grid kid at the next British Grand Prix, that’s all on Oscar. It’s definitely not because he’s your favorite student.

Okay, maybe it is.

a/n: my lovely 🐈❤️‍🩹 anon sent me a photo of Oscar with a grid kid & said: Oscar and Sammy. Please look at this photo I screamed over it. can imagine teacher!reader standing off to the side trying not to cry over how cute Oscar is tbh. anyways thanks for reading!!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan

#Oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri fanfic #Oscar piastri fluff #formula one fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one x reader #formual one oneshot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #honeywrites #op81

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augustinewrites · 5 months

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satoru bday fic! cw: suggestive

gojo thinks he should be nominated for boyfriend of the year.

not only had he managed to get the kids to school on time, pick up the groceries, get all his reports in to principal yaga, and clean the kitchen, but he’d managed to do it all while extremely hungover on his birthday.

he’d even managed to do it all before you’d even gotten out of bed.

he doesn’t blame you for sleeping in. the impromptu birthday party he’d thrown had left you all in quite the state by the early hours of morning. you need the re—

“satoru! could you come in here for a second?”

“coming!” he calls back, shoving the coupon that’d fallen from shoko’s birthday card into his wallet before making his way to the bedroom. “hey, let’s get some frozen yogurt when the kids get ho— holy shit.”

your face breaks out into a grin of triumph at his sudden silence. gojo’s rightfully stunned, carefully studying each bit of revealing lace and the way it sits against your body before committing it to memory.

“is that…”

“the set you had commissioned in paris,” you hum, nonchalant as you drag your fingertips up your hip. “that’s the one.”

he takes a few slow steps toward where you are and takes a seat at the edge of the bed, arousal warming his whole body. “but you said you’d never wear it because—”

“because i was saving it for something special,” you finish, leaning up and shifting towards him. “like your birthday.”

“well,” he sighs as you close the distance between you. “i should unwrap my gift then.”

“please try not to tear it,” you murmur as his lips brush over your pulse. “i’d very much like to wear it again, and i, oh, i saw the charge on the credit card…”

his reply is no more than a distracted hum as you shift onto his lap, allowing curious hands to explore your body and hungry lips to move against yours.

the lace is soft on your skin, his hands eagerly working to undo the ties holding up delicate florals and sheer material.

“satoru, i need you.” your breath is warm against his skin, exciting him more as he goes to pull off garter belt.

“uh, babe?”

“hm?”

“how do you take this off?”

_____

“well, i connected it to this piece—”

“but we can’t take this piece off unless we take this one off too. that doesn’t make any sense.”

“i’m telling you, that’s how i put it on.”

“then why won’t it come off?”

it’s then that gojo decides custom lingerie should come with instructions. when he’d designed it, he hadn’t actually considered the logistics of this operation.

“okay,” you huff, turning around and placing your hands on his shoulders. “you’re just going to have to tear it.”

“fine by me,” he grins, slightly smug as he curls his fingers around the expensive material and tears—

the two of you scramble up when the front door slams open. it’s in that moment you realize that satoru hadn’t closed the bedroom door.

“mom!” you hear megumi shout, his stomps echoing through the apartment. “tsumiki ate one of my snacks!”

“shit, fuck.” cursing, you grab his discarded t-shirt and slip it on before jumping into bed. satoru slips in next to you, pulling the duvet up to your chins and pressing against you from behind.

“satoru!” you hiss when you feel something poke the back of your thigh.

“we just made out for like ten minutes,” he whispers back, only pulling you closer. “you didn’t think i’d get one?”

“put it away!”

“i could, but—”

you manage to summon one of your divine dogs in time for it push the bedroom door closed, breathing a sigh of relief when the kid’s footsteps come to a halt.

“we’ll be out in a second!” you call, hearing their hushed argument as they trudge back to the kitchen.

“i might need more than a second…”

you hit satoru in the face with a pillow. “you’ll get the rest of your birthday gift tonight, after you drop the kids off at nanami’s.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

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hoshigray · 8 days

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hello, lovely! is it okay to request a short fic wherein gojo’s pregnant wife (y/n) stole his kikufuku? thank u! (missing soft gojo hours 😭)

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg stoooop this is so cute and sweet, what!?

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x pregnant afab/fem! reader - tooth-rotting fluff - pet names (angel, baby, stars and moon, sweetheart) - Gojo being a big crybaby over sweets - so soft, i was smiling while writing, hehe~.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k

THUD!

“…!” You jolt, immediately looking to the entrance of the living room to see your husband. “Gojo! You okay?”

The white-haired man stands still with a gawked expression, eyes covered by his black blindfold with his usual Jujutsu Tech attire, and you can assume the noise came from the souvenir bags he dropped to the floor.

“…Y/n, my angelic stars and moon,” he finally speaks after a few seconds of silence, and you can see his lips quiver with trembling hands. “Is…Is that my last kikufuku?”

If there is one thing Gojo loved more than anything other than you, it would be his undying love for sweets! You could never find him without any at his disposal; he’d have a bunch of lollipops in his pockets, be licking popsicles or soft serves while monitoring his first years during their missions, or typically stop by a café and grab some crepes for dessert to take home and share with you. He’s known to have a childish heart, and sweets are his weakness!

His all-time favorite would be the mochi delicacy he often gets during his mission trips to Sendai, and he’s always sure to buy a whole box worth to make the long trip up North worth it. Kikufuku, the crushed edamame and cream-filled mochi, is Gojo’s favorite sweet to eat — you’re a witness to him happily stuffing his face with them lying on the couch after a hard day’s work. He’s the type to eat one every week until he can return to Sendai and get more.

This week was the very last one he had saved, secured in the cold fridge for him to eat once he got home. And he wasn’t going to Sendai anytime soon, so he planned on treasuring and savoring it the moment he stepped inside and lay beside his pregnant partner to chill on this blissful spring evening.

He could never get over the sight of you whenever he came home. Gojo loved his partner so much that he swears he would burn the world if you commanded him to, which you knew is an exaggeration, but his love is true. The day he got on one knee and heard you say yes to his proposal was the happiest he’d ever been, sweeping you off your feet, putting you in your dream puffy white dress, and officially becoming the spouse of the strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world! And now you were swole with his child!? Not even God could strike this man to calm him down of his glee.

You were sitting on the living room couch like you always did, waiting for your husband to return, wearing a black maternity one-piece that comfortably molded around your figure and a blue flannel shirt – his flannel – to keep you warm. Gojo came home with souvenirs to share and impress, a huge smile just from thinking about your reactions.

However, the sight has him gasp dramatically loud and drop everything to the wooden floor, because he saw something in your hand, something that broke his heart noticing the green and white filling apparent from a bite on an undeniable white rice cake.

You were eating the very last of his kikufuku…How could you!?

You blinked at him, then turned to the sweet in your hand, and the realization of what you were doing finally hit you. “Oh! I’m sorry, Satoru! I was feeling snacky.”

The tall man teeters to where you’re sitting, whining with every step. “So why didn’t you eat your snacks, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know?” You shrugged, licking bits of the edamame cream off your middle finger. “They didn’t seem like what I was craving for. I wanted something sweet, ya know? And I finished my ice cream two nights ago, so this was all I could find.”

“Yeah, but like,” you can tell his eyebrows were scrunched together even if the black material concealed his upper face. “That was my last one, baby! Plus, you could’ve texted me you’d eat it, or I could’ve stopped somewhere to grab you something sweet!”

“I know! But, you were very busy today; a big mission up in Kyoto and a meeting with Principal Yaga, sooo…” you squished the mochi gently, licking more of the filling coming out. “I didn’t wanna interrupt or bother you…”

“But stilllll~!”God, you were so cute when you cared for him, you almost made him forget the whole thing then and there. But you can’t hate the man for being a little upset, right? Gojo sighs and places his cheek on your belly. “Little booger, you hear what your momma is doing to me? So cruel~.”

You gasped. “Hey! Don’t say that to them!” Your free hand tries to yank him off your tummy by the hair, yet he doesn’t budge as he exclaims painfully. “What, are you saying the pregnant love of your life is some villain because they ate one of your sweets? As if I never caught you taking scoops of my favorite ice cream!? Have you no shame, Gojo Satoru!”

He swats your hand off his snowy hair, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Between you and Principal Yaga, there is a scarce few Gojo would allow to beat him up for his foolishness. He turns his head – still above the baby – to face you and releases a sigh. “I’m sorry, I was just really stoked I’d get to have that kikufuku; it’ll be a long while before I go get more…Ughhh.” Another sigh is exerted, and you can only shake your head with rolled eyes. He’s such a baby.

You bring his blindfold down to his chin to free the azure eyes he’s been hiding since this morning, and his hair falls from its spiky appearance. Then, you separate the mochi into two and push one to his lips, “You happy now?” You say with a grin. “I’m sorry, but I wanted to give these a try. Besides, we’ll have a little one to look after soon; wouldn’t it be nice for them to know what their father likes to snack on from time to time?”

Now, how in the world could Gojo still be upset with that logic? Being a father is a foreign concept he’s accepting with open arms, sharing the experience with the person he values and cherishes the most. To have a child with you is the highest honor of all for him. And imagining his small family happy and eating sweets together under his care makes his cheeks show a subtle shade of pink.

He smiles as he accepts the piece of the rice cake, chuckling when you flick his nose playfully. “You’re so sweet, angel.”

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bucks-babe · 21 days

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Change My Ways For You

Pairing: College!Fuckboy!Bucky x college!fem!reader

Summary: One of the only girls in school that didn’t want Bucky Barnes was somehow the one he fell in love with

Warnings: Smut, fluff, reader doesn’t take any of Bucky’s shit, himbo!Bucky, Bucky being a fuckboy,a bit of forced proximity, small part where Bucky is fucking someone else (ew), pinning, Bucky proving himself to be a sweet boy, non consentual kissing, Bucky being tooth rottingly sweet, Bucky calling reader sweets sweetheart and sweetcheeks, Steve is a dick (sorry not sorry), PROTECTED p in v (they are responsible in this one), fingering, fluffy smut, dirty talk, cockwarming?, so much praise, talk about STDs, delayed aftercare, talk about no aftercare, Bucky learns about aftercare so all is good

Word Count: 14.6k This is a long one

A/N: Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading and helping with the direction; however, any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone. This fic is the most adorable and full of emotions. The angst, the fluff, the feelings and especially Bucky. The way they act around one another — it’s absolutely great and definitely a read worth it!

“I have to admit, some of your grades in this class are less than I expected. Some of you have excelled in my class, but there are quite a few students to which their performance, to put it nicely, has been subpar.” A few students in the room look around, trying to see who looks guilty of having shit grades. You couldn’t care less; you know your grades are great so it’s not your problem if someone else is failing.

All you want to do is get out of class and go back to your dorm to sleep, having stayed up way too late to finish a research paper for a different class. Your professor walks back over to his desk and leans back on it, sighing and taking off his glasses to wipe them on his sweater.

“Now, while I understand that this course is not for the faint of heart, I still expect all of you to put in effort, and based on these,” he holds up the essays that were due last week, “I can tell that some of you just don’t care. Not even mentioning those of you who didn’t turn in your paper.”

You hear a scoff a few rows behind you and you know it’s Bucky Barnes without having to turn your head. He is the resident fuckboy, not caring about school or his education, just going to parties and fucking every living thing in sight. Sometimes you think that the only reason he is even in college is to have the “college experience” of “being free and having a bit of fun.”

He’s never turned your head, rather just been a thorn in your side three times a week when you go to class, always joking with his friends next to him or talking about his latest trist. You don’t want to hear about how loud a random girl screamed when she came on his cock. You were here to get your degree and finally move out of this shitty town you were stuck in.

Honestly, you doubt that Bucky was even giving anyone orgasms. In your experience, men who brag about how good they were in bed were nothing but a disappointment, giving you about 30 seconds of mediocre sex until they came inside a condom and rolled over only to ask you, “did you cum?” The answer was always no. You didn’t have the patience to stroke any man’s ego when they couldn’t even make you wet.

Bucky did nothing but make you roll your eyes, annoyed by the absolute gall of himself. “Now, because I don’t want my class average to go down because of a few dumbasses, I have sent some of you an email to meet me in my office after hours in which I will pair you up with another student in hopes that it will give you a kick in the ass since I cannot be bothered to spend more time teaching you.” You like your professor, you really do. He was one of the chillest professors you’ve had, but a twinge of fear goes through you. You fucking hope that he doesn’t pick you to help another student, especially Bucky.

You hang on to the sliver of hope that he won’t pick you. He knows that you’re busy, right? Between work and school you don’t have any time to tutor anyone. The topic stays on your mind long after you leave class, delaying looking at your email just in case he picked you to help another student.

As the hours went by, however, you knew that you had to check it. You cursed when your laptop had battery; if it didn’t, it would have given you an excuse to not show up if you were picked. Nonetheless, you opened your school email, only to find out that you had been picked and you needed to go down to your professors office in a half hour.

Getting dressed, you had the most intense scowl on your face. This was the last thing you needed added onto your plate. You only hoped that he would pair you up with someone who didn’t need that much help, but you were proven wrong when you walked in only to find Bucky sitting down looking like he would rather be anywhere else.

“Take a seat, please.” You huff and sit down, moving your body away from Bucky as much as you could. You didn’t really feel comfortable around him. He’s never done anything to you per say, but you’ve seen his shameless flirting and it makes you uneasy and never want to be on the receiving end of it.

You don’t pay attention to anything your professor says, something about helping Bucky over the next few months until he’s passing or fails out of the course. You’re too lost in thought to care. On top of everything you have going on, now you have to help the one person you can’t stand.

Your professor dismisses the both of you with instructions to meet at least twice a week to study together. Bucky walks out before you and you assume that he has sprinted away to go to another party given that it was late afternoon, but you find him right outside the door.

“So, sweetcheeks, I guess you’re gonna be seeing a lot of me now.” His eyes run up and down your body, like this was the first time he’s seen you. It makes you shift and wrap your arms around your middle, trying to soothe yourself. Bucky clearly takes this the wrong way and thinks that you like his hungry eyes and steps closer to you. “How about I give you my number and we can meet up, ya know, to study? Or if you ever need something, I’m sure we can figure something out.”

You don’t want to give him your phone, thinking about where his hands have been. Ever since his step closer to you, you can smell the scent of sex on him. If you look closer at his beard you can see the glisten on it, most likely from some girl he ate out right before he came to the meeting.

“Just tell me your number, James so we can get this over with. I don’t want to help you and you don’t want my help. Clearly you don’t give a shit about this class and you only want to get in my pants.” He raises his eyebrows at your tone, a little shocked that you spoke to him like that. Before he opens his mouth you continue, “I mean, look at you. You’re flirting with me when I can fucking see that someone’s pussy was on your face, and that makes you think that I want to have sex with you?”

He opens his mouth one more time but you aren’t finished, finally able to snap at him for all the times he’s pissed you off. “I’m not going to be one of the girls you add to your roster so you can get that idea out of your head right now. The only time I am going to interact with you is when I have to, okay? Now give me your number so I can go back to my dorm and fucking sleep.”

Bucky is shocked, not having anyone talk to him like that. It pisses him off that you rejected him. Everyone wanted a piece of him, but he has time to change your mind. He can’t lie, your sass was making his pants tighter, but he relents and gives you his number before you walk away while he watches your ass, palming his dick through his pants.

He needs to relieve the pressure in his groin and he’s sure as hell you’re not going to help him and his hand is nowhere near good as a pussy, so he goes out to Steve’s party, knowing that he can get a girl in minutes.

“Fuck, yeah baby, that pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock. Shit, love that ass too, you gonna let me fuck it? Yeah, I bet you fucking would too.” Bucky doesn’t know how the two of them ended up in the bathroom, fucking each other’s brains out, but he’s not complaining. When she offered to get on her knees and suck his cock he pulled her into the nearest room, cumming on her face before pushing her into the mirror, smearing her makeup and his cum all over the mirror.

The slam of his hips was brutal, surely going to leave bruises on her hips but he didn’t care, as long as she wasn’t complaining, he would do whatever he wanted with her, fucking her like she was a slut. “Fuck, baby, gonna make me fucking cum. Pussy is so fucking tight.” He lets a groan out, close to cumming.

Usually he didn’t make much noise during sex other than dirty talk, only breathing heavily and groaning when he was about to cum, but he was always composed. Sex felt great, but he never felt the need to moan. He never understood why men would moan like a slut just over some pussy, and he doubted that he would ever embarrass himself like that during sex.

“Love the way that ass bounces, so fucking hot.” This was the way Bucky fucked - from behind watching the girl’s ass jiggle. He wasn’t one to fuck any other way. Bucky didn’t give a shit to watch her face or look into her eyes, he just wanted to cum as fast as possible so he could move on with the rest of his day. He thought missionary was quite possibly the most boring position ever created, not like he ever made it to a bed anyway.

“Shit, gonna take my cum, bitch? Yeah, you fucking are, just a little fucking cumdump for me, letting me fuck you in a dirty bathroom, too horny for my fat cock.” He was babbling, just wanting to cum so he could go back out to the party and have another drink, maybe even pick another girl up for later.

Bucky lets out a low groan, filling up the condom with his cum. Once his orgasm is finished, he pulls out, taking the rubber off and throwing it away. Pulling his pants back up, the girl turns around, clearly affronted. “I didn’t even cum, baby.” Her voice was high and annoying, making Bucky roll his eyes.

“Sorry, but your pussy made me bust early.” He chuckles knowing damn well that it was a lie. He just couldn’t be bothered to make her cum. Why would he put in the extra work to make her cum when he was just having fun? If she wanted to cum so bad she could have handled it herself. He wasn’t stopping her from using her own hands. Bucky either ate a girl out until she came to get her nice and wet if he was feeling generous that day or left her to her own devices while he took his own pleasure from her body.

She blushes, “oh, thanks, that’s sweet of you.” Bucky just wants to get the fuck back to the party and she’s talking too fucking much. “Maybe we can do this again.”

He can hear how hopeful she is and he felt just a little bit bad so he decided to humor her. “Sure, Sherry, whenever I’m free. You know college life and all, working hard in classes every day. Gotta keep up that 4.0 GPA.” As he heads for the door, he hears her squeak out, It’s Sally!

The next day is when you’re supposed to meet Bucky in the library to study, but it’s been a half hour and he still hasn’t shown. You decide to study what you need to. If Bucky wanted to fail you weren’t going to go out of your way to help him. You weren’t his mother; he was a grown man and he was responsible for himself.

Nearly an hour later, Bucky stumbles in, clearly reaping the effects of the alcohol binge he must have been on the night before. It was no wonder why he was failing his classes. When he sees you, a smile graces his lips, trying to make you forget that he was more than fashionably late. “Heeyyyy, sweetcheeks. You been waitin’ on me long?” The closer he gets the more you can smell the musk of sex and alcohol.

“James, are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?” You know he is and you fight the urge to turn your nose up at the offensive smell coming off him.

“Huh? Oh, shit, I am. Well would ya’ look at that?” He laughs before plopping down in the seat next to you, his smell even worse than before. He tries to give you what you assume is a sexy look, but he just looks like he just awoke out of a coma. “How about you help me change them then, sweetcheeks? Maybe even give me a good scrub, make sure I’m real clean? Oh, and sweets, call me Bucky since we’re gonna get real close.”

There is no way that he is trying to have sex with you when his stink is filling up the entire section of the library. Anger bubbles up in your chest. You were here to help him and he is taking this whole thing like a joke. “I don’t have time for this, James. Unlike you, I actually care about my grades and don’t think with what’s in my pants.”

As you go to walk away, Bucky tries to grab your wrist, wanting to mess with you some more, but his motor skills haven’t come back yet and he was too slow. “C’mon, sweetheart, I was just messin’ with ya’, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Bucky holds his tongue about wanting to sniff your panties, not wanting to antagonize you further, but you just keep storming away and soon enough you’re out of Bucky’s sight.

Bucky huffs, annoyed that you walked away from him. Not because he actually wanted to talk to you, no of course not, it’s because no one has ever walked away from him. He walks away from girls after he fucked them, not the other way around. Grabbing his shirt, he lifts it up to smell it, turning his head away when the stench hits him. “Damn, no wonder she fucking sprinted away from you, Barnes.” Bucky stands up, almost falling over when gets lightheaded, the effect of drinking all night with no food catching up to him.

He slowly makes his way back to his dorm to shower and get out of his grimy clothes, feeling it stick to his skin in the worst way possible. He realizes that he only gave you his number and you didn’t give him yours so he has no way of texting you to see when your next session is. Maybe he would have made it on time if you texted him. It wasn’t his fault he was late. Honestly, you should have reminded him since you are supposed to be helping him.

The next day Bucky sees you in class and luckily he doesn’t reek this time. Instead of sitting in his usual seat, he goes down a few rows and plops down next to you. “So, sweetheart, I don’t mean to question your teaching methods, but seems to me like you’re a pretty lackluster teacher, runnin’ out on me like that.” You slowly turn your head, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man. How dare he say anything about you when he showed an hour late and proceeded to ogle you like a piece of meat?

“Excuse me? You wanna say that again, James? Because I don’t think I heard you right, because you better not have just said that I’m the problem.”

“I was just teasin’ ya, sweets. But if this is gonna work ya gotta help me a little bit. I mean, you’re the teacher and all.” You wanted to slap that smug smirk right off of his face.

“If this is going to work, James, then you need to try. I’m not going to pull my weight and yours so get that idea out of your head right now. I’ll be in the library at 4:30. If you’re so much as a minute late, I’ll tell the professor to get someone else to deal with you.” With that you got up and changed your seat, not wanting to be around him for another second.

Bucky felt his pants tighten again. He really needs to do something about your attitude, like fuck it out of you. It wasn’t a lie that he found you attractive and the thought of bending you over your desk and watching your ass bounce made his cock even harder. Bucky was contemplating asking the girl next to him for a handjob but the thought of her hands around his cock didn’t seem as good as what he thought your hands would feel like.

So instead of that, Bucky moved his seat to the back of the room so he could jerk off. A man has needs after all and Bucky has never had to worry about someone taking care of his boners until now.

Bucky decides not to push his luck and he actually shows up to the library on time, sans all of his books, but at least he’s there. He sees you in the corner, hunched over your laptop, typing away. You look cute too, with your tongue slightly passed your lips in concentration and eyebrows pulled together. Reading glasses perched on your nose. His sweetheart was working hard. What the fuck, Barnes? Bucky is taken aback by his own thoughts. He has never looked at a girl like that, when none of his thoughts are about how many different ways he could fuck them.

You roll your eyes when you see that Bucky didn’t bring anything with him, just the air of arrogance that seems to follow him wherever he goes. “Would ya’ look at the time, sweets? I’m early. See I happen to take my education very seriously.” You swear, if you roll your eyes anymore because of this man, they’re going to be stuck in the back of your skull.

“Yeah, yeah. What did the professor say you needed to work on?” You want to get straight to business. The faster you get this done the faster you can leave.

“Uh, well. I don’t exactly know what.” He tries to smile to soften the blow of his incompetence as he sits next to you, but you are almost vibrating in anger at how useless he is.

Huffing, you angrily click at your laptop, going to check the email your professor gave you, knowing that Bucky couldn’t be trusted to remember. “James, please tell me how your grade is a 13% and you’re still in college?” You had no idea that someone could have a grade that low and not be kicked out of the entire course.

“What! No way, let me see that.” You slide the laptop over to him, showing the proof of his negligence. “Well, damn, we have a lotta work to do then, sweetcheeks.” You ignore his comment and pull up his most recent essay, surprised that he turned it in at all, but not shocked to see how terribly he did.

“James, what did you even think this essay was about?”

“Uh, nature and care?” Your mouth drops open and you just stare at him for a minute, making him squirm under your gaze.

“James, this was an essay on Frankenstein, and you were supposed to analyze the difference between nature versus nurture. You wrote about the fucking trees!”

Bucky clearly didn’t understand the problem with his essay. “Yeah, that’s nature!”

“No, James. Nature as in how you are, like how you were born, not how you were raised. You were supposed to compare how Victor was nurtured all his life but was full of hate and spite, but the creature never had any care but he was benevolent until everyone who encountered him abhorred him!”

You were talking too fast and Bucky didn’t understand a word of what you said. You were using words that he had never heard of before. “So, you can fix it, right, sweets?” That same sly smile was on his lips. The look on your face was enough to make him backtrack. “Uh, so we can fix this right? You know, since we’re a team now.”

The resting bitch face you gave him had him shifting his eyes around the library, trying to avoid it. As soon as he did, however, he regretted his decision when his party hook up locked eyes with him. His eyes immediately went to your laptop, typing random words onto the document you pulled up, trying to seem busy.

“So, sweetcheeks, I’m picking up what you’re putting down. So Victor is a bitch and Frankenstein is cool.” The sound of your voice correcting him by calling the creature Frankenstein is drowned out by the shrill voice of his past trist.

“Hey, baby, haven’t seen you since that party. See you're working hard, keeping up that 4.0 I see.” She lets out a giggle and strokes his bicep. You raise an eyebrow but don’t say anything about his supposed GPA. You’re taking great pleasure in watching Bucky squirm, clearly not wanting anything to do with her now that he’s gotten his rocks off.

“And who is this? I bet my smart baby is helping her study, right? That’s so sweet of you to help out, really. Not everyone would want to help the ugly girl.” You wheeled your head back, about to bite her head off for daring to say shit about your looks when the foundation on her face was three shades lighter than her chest that was almost spilling out of her way too small top. Now you were never one to judge, but if someone comes for your looks, you come right back at them.

Before you got the chance to tear her a new one, Bucky interjected. “Ya’ know me, always helping out where I can, even those less fortunate than me.” His eyes were glued to her chest and you doubted that he even knew what she said to begin with. “Listen, Sandy, how about we catch up after I’m done and I can help you out too?”

The “sexy” look on her face dropped. “My name’s Sally, nevermind, you can have the ugly bitch!” Bucky cringes slightly at getting her name wrong again; he was never good with those. You don’t know why you were involved with their lovers quarrel, but a twinge of hurt sprouts in your heart. You didn’t even do anything to her and she had to come at you for your looks, and Bucky didn’t say a fucking word.

Grabbing your things, you pack them with more force than necessary, but you don’t give a fuck. “Sweetheart, where are ya’ going? Don’t listen to her, she’s just a bit jealous that I’m with ya’.”

How does he not see what he did wrong? You just glare at him before turning on your heels and walking away. There is no way that you’re going to spend anymore time or energy on him when he isn’t going to try. If it was anyone else, maybe you wouldn’t be so hurt, but for just one second you thought that Bucky wasn’t as bad as he made himself out to be.

“Sweets, c’mon, we still have that essay to write.” Was this man really following you down the hall? Yes, yes he was.

You spin around, eyes ablaze just to walk back up to him and push his chest. “You have an essay to write because I. Am. Done. You don’t give a fuck about this and I refuse to put myself through this for nothing.”

“What did I even do?” Now you were shaking with anger.

“What did you do? You haven’t tried at all, showing up late, trying to get me to fuck you, and worst of all, you let someone talk about me like that right in front of you and didn’t say a fucking word. You know, for a second there I thought you might be a nice guy, but you proved me the fuck wrong.”

Bucky had the nerve to look angry at what you said. Pushing you against the wall, he stares into your eyes. “Sweets, you’re really starting to piss me off. I’m fucking trying and it’s not good enough for ya’. I ought to fuck that attitude right outta ya’.” His eyes drop down to your lips and you’re too stunned to speak, not expecting him to push you up against a wall.

He was starting to scare you, getting into your space like this, but before you could tell him to back off his lips smashed against yours. It was rough and fast. Your lips stayed still but your eyes were wide open, shocked at what he was doing. You tried to push his chest, but he only got closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, one hand dropping to your ass.

You struggled to free one of your hands, but as soon as you did you slapped Bucky in the face as hard as you could given your angle. He pulls back, shock on his face at the fact that you hit him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing! What made you think that I wanted to kiss you, asshole!” You try to wipe your lips, wanting to get the memory of his lips against yours off.

Bucky just stood there, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know what came over him. You shook your head and practically ran away to your dorm so you could shower and wash his touch off of you. The next day you were glad you didn’t have class with Bucky, but the remains of his kiss were still lingering. You didn’t even want to help him to begin with and this is how it ends up? With him forcing you to kiss him.

You didn’t want to tell anyone what happened, just wanting to forget the whole thing. But you couldn’t avoid Bucky for long since you did have to share a class together. He tried to come up to you, but you saw it out of the corner of your eye and switched seats before he could reach you. The entire hour and a half lecture was spent making sure Bucky wasn’t making his way any closer to you.

Instead of rushing out when class was over, you made your way down to your professors desk. “Professor, could I talk to you in your office for a minute? It’s important.” He might be relaxed most of the time, but your professor always made sure everyone in his class felt like they could talk to him if needed.

Nodding his head, he leads you to his office and closes the door behind you, but not before you catch a glimpse of Bucky looking like a kicked puppy. He knew what you were about to talk about in that office, but there was nothing he could do about it. “Have a seat and tell me what’s going on. You’ve seemed off the past couple of lessons and I’m starting to get worried.”

You gulped, not knowing why it was so hard to say that you don’t want to tutor Bucky anymore. You didn’t want to let your professor down. Maybe it was because he reminded you of a father that you never had, but you just wanted to make him proud, showing him that you were capable of what he entrusted to you. He was looking at you, waiting to listen.

“Um, well, I have been distracted, but I think that it would be best for James to-” You can’t finish the rest of your sentence when you look at your professor. He trusted you to help Bucky and you can’t throw his trust away. “I think it would be best for James to have a more structured plan and I wanted to discuss that with you.”

The pride in his eyes was undeniable and you forgot about all the shit Bucky has put you through over the last few days. “Of course, what did you have in mind?” When you get out of his office, Bucky is still waiting, most likely missing the next party one of his friends is having.

You don’t even look at him, only grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him with you all the way down to the library. “Sweets, listen, I didn’t mean to make ya’ feel-” Turning around, you cut him off and he stumbles to a stop.

“No, I don’t want to hear it, James. You listen to me. We will meet in this library every other day at this exact time and you will keep your mouth shut and work. Do you hear me?” Bucky feels his pants tighten, but doesn’t say a word about it, slightly scared to talk back to you.

He just nods his head, finally noticing how beautiful you were. How your eyes held so much emotion in them, even when you didn't let it show on your face. Or how your lips form a small frown, the sides pulling down giving you an adorable pout. The small belmishes on your face, the tiny imperfections, created the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

“A nod is not an answer, James. Use your words.” Bucky swears that he could have cum in his pants at that exact moment. No woman has ever been so dominant with him in or out of the bedroom.

He gulps before finding his voice again, hoarse but still working. “Yes, ma’am. I won’t let ya’ down again. I swear.” You stare into his eyes for a few seconds longer, determining if you believed him or not, giving Bucky more time to appreciate every part of your face he didn’t notice before.

You let go of his shirt and keep walking and Bucky follows you like a lost puppy, eyes downcast to your ass but not being able to see much with your hoodie going down past it. Instead of going to the corner of the library you were at last time, you walk to one of the private study rooms. “Sit and get your shit out.”

Bucky wastes no time following your direction, loving how brazen you were. You sit down next to him, giving him the opportunity to smell your perfume, the light scent intoxicating. “So, teach, what are we working on first?” His eyes are bright and attentive, taking in your facial expressions. He’s trying to butter you up, make you less angry at him.

“We have to fix your atrocious essay. It’s worth the most amount of points so hopefully it will bring your grade up.” You root through his binder, nothing organized at all. When you find it and pull it out you sigh, not knowing where to even start. “Okay, first things first, you need to at least understand what this is about.”

You explain everything to him, stopping to see if he is still following along, surprised to see him paying attention, going so far as to interrupt every so often to ask questions. For the first time since he got to college, Bucky is trying. The two of you sit there for a few hours, going over the essay line by line, fixing his mistakes. To your surprise, his grammar wasn’t too bad. At least he had something going for him.

The next few lessons go by the same way, Bucky working hard to not piss you off, but also to improve his grades. There were no flirty comments, no complaining about you being bossy. He was falling for you, something that Bucky never thought would happen to him.

He didn’t know how it started. Maybe it was that day you told him off, grabbing his shirt and putting him in his place. Whatever it was, he didn’t care. You were so beautiful and smart. God you were smart. It amazed him how easy it was for you to explain the assignments to him.

Bucky stopped going to parties, too. For once he didn’t find interest in getting shitfaced drunk and sticking his dick in a random girl; although it was giving him his first ever case of blue balls, it just felt wrong to have sex with another girl. He tried once at the last party he went to before he decided to stop going, but her hand on his cock didn’t make him pulse with need. Bucky ended up faking a phone call, saying that his friend was in the hospital and he needed to go see him.

As the weeks pass, Bucky can tell you’re getting soft on him, especially when you called him Bucky for the first time.

“C’mon, sweets, it can’t be that bad helpin’ me out.” Bucky leans back in his chair, his signature smirk plastered on his face.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, James because from where I stand, I’m losing IQ points by the minute with you.” You still try to sass him but Bucky can tell you’re fighting off a smile. The two of you talk like actual friends now - no more jabs at his promiscuity and no more ogling.

“Ah, I think it’s the other way around. I can feel myself gettin’ smarter with ya’.” Bucky puts his head on the table in front of you, moving so he could look at your face. His eyes glisten, showing the sweet man hidden underneath his tough exterior.

“Oh, give me a break, Bucky, you’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll do all the work for you.” You smile, looking down at him with the same adoration he’s giving you. His name leaving your lips felt right, smooth and sweet.

Bucky’s eyes widen, not expecting his name to sound so damn good coming from you. He doesn’t say anything in fear of you going back to calling him James. Now that you’ve called him Bucky, he never wants to hear his first name come out of your mouth again. He wants to be your Bucky.

You can’t deny the feelings you’ve developed for Bucky. The man charming his way into your heart, but you know you can’t act on them. You doubt that Bucky has ever been in a serious relationship, only going for one night stands. Even though you’ve seen first hand how sweet of a man he can be, you still aren’t convinced that he would be interested in dating.

But Bucky doesn’t share the same sentiment. Today is the day he’s going to ask you on a date, hoping that you’ll say yes and give him a chance to prove himself to you, prove that he can be the man you deserve. Like always, you’re in the library before him, already set up and waiting. When you see him walking over you wave, the same gorgeous smile he fell for gracing your lips.

You could tell that he was nervous, stuttering and not meeting your eyes. “Bucky, what’s going on with you? Don’t tell me that you forgot to turn in the essay that we’ve been working on.”

Bucky smiles sheepishly at you. “No, sweets, I remembered to turn it in. I, uh, well, ya’ know. I got a question for ya’.” Mentally slapping himself in the face, Bucky blushed.

Staring at him suspiciously, you pushed your laptop away, giving him your full attention. “Well, sweets, you’ve been so good to me over these past few weeks. Really turned me around. I didn’t think that I would be able to do all this college shit, you know?” It wasn’t a question that he wanted you to answer. “You made me change my ways. I don’t want to go to parties and get blackout drunk anymore. To be honest, I’d much rather spend my time with you.”

Bucky takes a deep breath while you gaze at him with a blank expression on your face, making him even more nervous than before. “Doesn’t matter what we’re doing, s’long as it’s with you I don’t care.”

You cut off his rambling, afraid of where he is going. “Bucky, what are you trying to say to me?” You know what he is trying to say, but you don’t know how to react to it. It’s not like you haven’t imagined what it would be like to go out with him, but that’s just not the man he is.

“I’m tryin’ to be romantic right now, sweets.” He lets out a little giggle, playing with his hands to try to calm himself down. “What I’m tryin’ to say is, would you like to go on a date with me?” Bucky feels his heart drop when you only stare at him, not even blinking. His knee starts to bounce, the anticipation becoming too much for him.

You sigh, thinking about what to say to him. The two of you have a good friendship, one that you never thought you would have, but starting a relationship with him is terrifying. “Bucky, listen.” Just from the way you started your sentence, Bucky regrets saying anything. “It’s not that I don’t like you, I really do, but I can’t deny that your past scares me.”

“What do you mean, sweets?” For a man so observant, he can be a little dumb.

“You don’t do relationships, Bucky. You’re used to no strings attached and dating includes a lot of strings.” Bucky clenches his jaw, of course his past would come back to bite him in the ass.

“I don’t want no strings attached anymore. I want to be with you and only you.” You close your eyes, putting your head down slightly. You want to believe him, you really do, but you don’t want to get your heart broken. Gently, Bucky’s hand grabs your chin, moving you to face him. “Let me prove myself to you, sweets, just give me a chance and if I blow it I give you full permission to kick my ass.”

That brings a small smile to your lips, but you’re still not convinced. “What if you get bored of me? Being with the same person over and over again?” Bucky’s heart aches at your words, not used to seeing you unsure of yourself. How could he ever get tired of you? He knows that he is the one who caused your insecurities. If he didn’t sleep around as much as he did, then you wouldn’t worry about his loyalty.

“Sweetheart, ever since you put me in my place, I haven’t touched another woman, can’t even think about someone who isn’t you touchin’ me. Just one chance is all I’m askin’ and I promise that I will show you how much I care.”

Closing your eyes, you lean into his warm palm, letting yourself feel him. His eyes hold so much vulnerability and you feel yourself losing the ability to say no to him. “Just one chance, Barnes. And if you hurt me I swear to God.” You’ve never seen Bucky smile so wide, pure joy adorning his face.

The smile never left his face, only growing wider. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweets. What about you come over to my dorm and we can have a movie night? Maybe you could even stay over?” He looks sheepish, worried you’ll turn him down. At the quirk of your brow he rushes to explain himself. “Not like that! Just to hang out.”

You head back to your dorm to get a change of clothes while Bucky waits outside so he could walk with you back to his. As soon as you walk out, he is rushing to grab your bag from you, insisting that he carries it. “Bucky, I can carry my own bag, you know. I’m capable of that much.” He loves your little attitude, never accepting his help.

Throwing an arm over your shoulder, Bucky leads you away, not giving you your bag back. His dorm is just what you expect from a college frat boy: trash can overflowing, clothes on the floor, food left out, bed a complete mess. Scratching the back of his neck, Bucky shyly looks at you. You decide to only give him a little bit of grief for the mess. “Am I allowed on the bed or have you fucked someone here?”

Bucky’s eyes widen, frantically shaking his head. “No, never brought anyone back to my dorm.” Toeing your shoes off, you ask him where the bathroom is, changing your clothes before you flop onto the bed, letting yourself sink into the fluffy mattress. For a minute, Bucky feels his brain malfunction. The sight of you in his bed is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He would give his left arm to have you naked right now, his cock buried deep inside you, your pussy pulsing around his cock, moaning when he rubs little circles on your clit.

“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna put on a movie, loverboy?” Shaking his head, Bucky nods and heads over to grab his laptop before climbing into bed, leaving space in between the two of you in case you didn’t want to be too close. “I didn’t know that hanging off the side of the bed was your style, but if you want to leave me to freeze feel free to do so.”

Bucky doesn’t know how to act around you, this whole dating thing is uncharted territory for him. He just moves over, your thigh pressed to his. Bucky had to will his cock to not get hard, the softness of your body was making it hard to think straight. The fact that he’s only jerked off for the past month isn’t helping either.

You move to get more comfortable, which so happens to include you snuggling into his side, curling your arms around his bicep. Bucky has no clue what the movie is about, the image of all the things he wants to do to you in this bed are too much for him. He doesn’t know what the feeling passing over him is. He likes this. He likes the feeling of your body pressed to his. Not in a sexual way, although he wouldn’t mind that either, but in a completely innocent way. Bucky never stayed around after he came, always getting dressed and leaving. He’s never had a woman press their body against his just to find comfort.

Somehow, Bucky is following along with the plot of the movie, but he knows that it was just because of how you interacted with all the characters like they could hear you. Bucky would usually hate that, he hates when people talk through movies, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with you. If anything, he was glad that you kept talking, giving him the opportunity to hear your voice.

Halfway through the movie you stop talking. When Bucky looks down he sees that you fell asleep on his chest. Of course at that moment Bucky’s bladder decided that he needed to pee urgently. He tried to hold off for as long as he could, focusing on the part of your mouth and the bit of drool leaking from it. But try as he might, he needed to use the bathroom.

He tried to maneuver you to not disturb your sleep but you woke up as soon as he moved. “Where you going?” Shit, he’s going to have to pee with a boner because your sleepy voice sent blood right to his cock.

“Just gotta take a leak, be right back.” You just snuggle deeper into the pillows, humming in understandment. Bucky has to put one hand on the wall in the bathroom, leaning over the toilet at an awkward angle trying to push his erection down with his other hand so he could pee. It took a bit of work, but he was able to go without making a mess. Now, Bucky might be a lot of things, but unhygienic isn’t one of them and before he goes back to bed he washes his hands.

Once he walks back into the room he sees that you’re more awake than before but still laying in bed. He hits the lightswitch on his way over and turns on the lamp, letting the soft glow illuminate your features. “What took you so long? Almost fell back asleep.”

Before he could answer, you wrap your body around his and feel his hard cock through his sweats. Pulling away slightly, your face gets hot. That’s why he took so long. “Shit, sweets, I’m sorry. It’s just, well, you were in my bed, and you look so gorgeous. Not that I’m expecting anything! But the image of you is fucking hot. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Your giggle catches him by surprise. “It’s okay, Bucky. Can’t imagine going from having sex all the time to being abstinent for a month.” With the soft glow of the lamp, you see Bucky’s blush. “Just don’t think I’m going to fix it for you though.” He shakes his head and chuckles lowly, pulling you back into him, keeping his pelvis away from yours even though his dick was begging for release.

Bucky doesn’t say anything back, but his hand moves to your waist, resting over your shirt. His thumb rubs small circles before he trails his hand up to your ribs and you can feel the heat of his palm through your shirt. For a few minutes he keeps his hand there, feeling your heartbeat, all the while moving his face closer.

He can feel your heartbeat pick up the closer he gets. You can feel his breath on your lips, warm and inviting. You’ve never been this close to his face, seeing all of his freckles up close. You don’t want him to pull away, not when your whole body is thrumming with need. Never in your wildest dreams did you think that Bucky could be this gentle.

He moves his hand up to your arm, delicately trailing his fingertips up and down, giving you goosebumps. Bucky is waiting for you to make the first move this time. The first time he kissed you was crass and unwarranted. The little gasp that leaves your lips when his palm rests on your cheek makes his cock jump.

Eyes fluttering shut, you lean in first. His plump lips meet yours and you moan into his mouth, not expecting his lips to be so soft and warm. You move your hands to his chest, pulling him closer to you, wanting to feel his whole body pressed to yours. You ignore the erection pressed against your stomach, completely lost in the sensation of his mouth on yours.

Bucky frees his other hand from under him and wraps it around your waist, pulling you on top of him. The pressure of his hand caused you to arch your back, gasping when your core meets his hard dick. Bucky doesn’t waste the opportunity to put his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the taste. He has to use every bit of self control in his body not to buck his hips up, but he doesn’t have to because you grind down onto him, searching for friction. The harder you kiss him, the more his will slips from him and he was the first to break the kiss, a trail of saliva still connecting you to him.

Both of you gasp for breath, having deprived yourselves of oxygen for too long. “Why’d you stop?” God, you were perfect. Eyes wide, pupils blown, kiss swollen lips - Bucky knew that he wanted to keep you like this all the time, having you look at him like that was addicting and he was already hooked.

“If we keep going I won’t be able to control myself and I told you that I’m going to prove to you that I’m in this. That I don’t want you just for sex. I’m going to treat you right, make sure you know how much I care first.” You have to bite your lip to stop the moan leaving you. That was the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. The fact that Bucky, the resident fuckboy, is denying sex because he wants to show you what you mean to him first has your cunt clenching around nothing.

You can’t think of words to convey how much that means to you, so you just slam your lips against his, kissing him with as much passion as you possibly could. Bucky has to use every morsel of restraint to move you off of him. “Sweets, you’re going to kill me with this.” The giggle you let out makes leaving his throbbing dick alone worth it, but you take pity on him and ask if he wants to go to the bathroom to fix his issue.

At first he declines, but he eventually caves and goes into the bathroom, shuts the door and handles his business. You scroll on your phone for a bit but you’re surprised when he comes back so fast. “Loverboy, this better not be a sign that you don’t last in bed, because when we do have sex, I want you to fuck me properly.”

As he flops back down on the bed, he groans. When, you said when, not if, when. “Sweets, if I hadn’t just came my dick would be rock hard again. You can’t say shit like that to me.” He rolls over, stradling you. “And sweets, I promise you, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your name.”

You just raise your eyebrows, choosing to tease him a bit. “Well, based on the time you spent touching yourself, I’m not convinced. Hope your reputation hasn’t gone to your head because I’ll be honest if you can’t fuck me right.”

Bucky squints his eyes at you before leaning down, like he was going to kiss you again, but at the last moment, he pulls back and tickles your sides. Your laughter is easily one of his favorite sounds. “Bucky! Stop or else I’ll never have sex with you.” That makes him pause, even though he knew it was an empty threat and lays back down next to you.

“Okay, okay, sweets, I’ll leave you be. But I wouldn’t be opposed to you tickling me.”

“What, is this a kink that you have, being tickled?” He scrunches his nose while he laughs, knowing what he was going to say next.

“No, but I would love it if you would tickle my pickle.” He smirks like it was the best joke ever told, proud of himself. You groan and turn away from him so he can’t see your smile. “C’mon, sweets, that was a good one.”

If you turn around you know you’ll see his puppy dog eyes. “Buck, that was the worst joke in the history of jokes.”

“Ah, ah, I can hear your smile. You loved it.” You don’t respond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you liked his joke. It’s silent for a moment and you are about to turn back around but Bucky talks before you can. “Do you mind if we spoon? I mean, you don’t have to stay overnight, but if you want to, ya’ know.”

“Well, it is pretty cold outside, and I would hate to have to walk all the way back. And who knows, I could freeze to death at my dorm. Better be safe than sorry.” Bucky knows what you're doing and plays along.

“Of course, sweets, can’t have my girl freeze. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t keep my girl warm.” You skooch back, pressing against his chest and his arms circle your waist, chin resting on your head. “Night, sweets, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Only if I don’t run away, loverboy.” You feel the vibrations of his chest as he chuckles before leaning back to turn the lamp off, falling asleep with your soft body pressed to his.

Over the next few months, Bucky proves himself to be the perfect boyfriend, always asking you how your day was, remembering all the little things about you, kissing you and holding your hand around campus, not giving a single fuck who saw the two of you. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit he was whipped.

“Buck, c’mon, this is the best fucking party of the year, you have to go. It’s gonna be packed with girls in slutty costumes, Halloween man, everyone wants to fuck everyone.” Bucky only rolls his eyes at Steve.

“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, parties aren’t for me anymore. Hangovers suck dick and I have better things to do in my free time.” Steve doesn’t seem to understand how much Bucky loved you. He’s never said it, at least not yet.

“Like what, hanging out with the nerd who hasn’t put out in three months? C’mon, I know you want some pussy and it’s gonna be on a fucking platter tonight.” Bucky sees red, not giving a shit that Steve is his best friend. No one talks about his girl like that, no one.

“Steve, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, but you fucking know how much I care about her. If I ever hear you call her that shit again, I’ll put you in the fucking hospital. I couldn’t give less of a shit about how long I have to wait for her to know that I don’t just want a pussy to fuck, not anymore. I’m done with the parties and the random girls, okay. So get that through your thick skull.”

He doesn’t wait for Steve to answer, storming out of Steve’s dorm and walking away, not even caring where he was headed. He doesn’t know how he got there, but he stands outside of your door, raising his hand to knock. You always answer the door for him and this time is no different.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You were so tuned into him, reading him like a book. Without waiting you pull him into your dorm, shutting and locking the door behind him, leading him to your bed. His jaw was clenched, eyes set. If he was a cartoon, steam would be pouring from his ears.

“Fucking Steve.” He kicks off his shoes and gets comfortable in your bed, you following right after. You would go anywhere he goes.

Cuddling up to him, you pull him into you and his muscles relax at your touch, body responding to yours without thought. “What about Steve? You two get into a fight?” You never really liked Steve, but he was Bucky’s friend and you would listen to whatever he had to say about Steve. He was just like Bucky was before he met you.

“Being a fucking asshole. You wanna know what he said to me?” Bucky doesn’t wait for you to answer, only turning his head to see you better before continuing. “Wanted me to go to the Halloween party tonight, talking about all the girls that want to fuck as if he doesn’t know that I’m with you.” That doesn’t seem as bad as you thought, thinking that they got into a fist fight. It doesn’t surprise you that Steve was still trying to convince Bucky to go back to his playboy ways.

But Bucky wasn’t finished. “He had the fucking nerve to say that I should go because we haven’t had sex yet, like I give a shit about that. Fucking disrespected you right to my face.” You couldn’t deny that you were turned on by the fact that Bucky was defending your honor even when you weren’t there, not letting anyone bad mouth you.

“And what did you say, Buck?” Fuck, your voice was breathing, heartrate picking up. You wanted to hear what he said, how he told his best friend off. Bucky didn’t seem to pick up on your arousal, still too heated from his argument.

“Fucking told his ass that if he ever says that shit again, I’ll fuck him up. No one talks about my girl like that, don’t give a shit who it is.” You swear you could cum right now. Why was that so hot? Maybe it was because you’ve never had a man that didn’t let anyone disrespect you, or maybe you just liked to see him mad.

“I want you, Bucky. Want you to fuck me.” It just comes out, shocking the both of you. Bucky whips his head around, eyes as wide as your own.

“What?”

“I want you to fuck me. I’m ready, know you don’t just want to use me.” Bucky’s dick is rock hard in seconds, all the anger in his body disapparating instantly.

“Are you sure you want this, sweets? Because I have no problem waiting.” Throughout the course of your dating, Bucky can’t count the amount of times that he’s been hard and left his cock untouched. It’s gotten to the point where the two of you knew he was going to get hard when he was around you, not that it bothered you, knowing how much you were affecting him, but Bucky’s used to ignoring his erection now and he has no problem waiting for it to go away if you don’t want to have sex with him.

“Yes, Bucky, I think I’ve made you wait long enough. And to be honest, if I make you wait any longer I don’t think you’ll last more than a minute.” The mouth on you marvels Bucky every time.

“Excuse me, sweets, but I’ll have you know I’m no two pump chump.” You only raise an eyebrow and Bucky huffs before kissing you again. It’s slow and hot. Bucky’s never kissed like this before, but with you he just can’t help but savor the feeling of your lips on his. He doesn’t want to rush, if he could he would kiss you forever, stuck in limbo, floating with only your touch to ground him.

You whine, hands pulling at his shirt, trying to get him to take it off. Bucky moves back, smirking at you. “Desperate, aren’t we? Just wanna feel me ‘gainst you, huh?” Teasing hasn’t been something Bucky really did, always hurrying to the main event, but he wants to make you crave him as much as he does you.

The glare you give him holds no heat, not able to be mad at him when he’s looking so damn hot above you. Bucky relents, just this once, and takes his shirt off, revealing his toned stomach. He sucks a breath in through his teeth when your hands land on his abs. “Holy hell, woman! Your hands are fucking ice cubes!” You giggle but don’t pull away, sitting up and moving your hands across his back, slipping them into his sweats, finding his bare ass and squeezing.

“Well, loverboy, warm them up for me.” Bucky shakes his head in disbelief, chuckling at you. He takes your hands out of his pants and lays you back down, letting his warm palms circle the soft skin of your belly under your shirt.

“Can I take this off, sweetheart? Gonna let me see those pretty tits?” Your cunt pulses at his words. Men that you’ve been with before haven’t talked to you like this, making you yearn for them.

“I mean, you can take it off but they’re not that pretty.” Bucky wheels his head back, clearly offended by your statement. For the first time, you shy away from his gaze. You weren’t exactly insecure about your body, but you also weren’t the most confident and you doubt that your body is better than the surplus of girls Bucky’s had.

“I beg your fucking pardon, sweets. I’m gonna need you to run that by me again.” Bucky lowers his face to yours, and you’re sure he is looking right through you.

“Well, I doubt they’re the best pair you’ve seen, Buck. Don’t roll your eyes at me either.” You catch the eye roll Bucky gave you. He wasn’t rolling his eyes at you, but rather the words you were saying.

“I can’t believe my ears, sweets. The smartest girl I’ve ever met is saying what is quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve heard. And that’s coming from the guy who is friends with Sam.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes and instead of saying anything back to him, you grab the bottom of your shirt and take it off, revealing your naked chest to him, foregoing a bra.

Like any man, Bucky gets distracted by the sight of your breasts on display for him. It takes him a second, but he shakes his head and comes back from his daze. “Fuck, sweetheart, you got the prettiest set of tits I’ve ever fuckin’ seen. Fucking perfect.” Bucky isn’t lying either, he really does think that you’re the most beautiful woman on the entire planet, every part of your body is perfection. “Should be a model, sweets, let everyone see how gorgeous you are.”

You feel the heat creep up your neck and rest on your cheeks. You aren’t used to being looked at like this. The look he’s giving you is so much different from when you first started working with him. It’s not filled with lust, although you can tell it’s there, but filled with awe and love. “Uh, uh, don’t look away from me. Want you to look at me while I make you cum.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before moving down to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot that he found the first time you made out. The little gasps and whines that leave your lips has his cock begging to be touched, but right now it isn’t about him, it’s about you.

You arch your back, pressing your soft breasts against his solid chest, drawing his attention away from your neck and to your tits. Trailing kisses down your chest, he swirls his tongue around your right breast, purposely avoiding your sensitive nipple. He doesn’t listen to any of your protests so you take matters into your own hands and grab a fistfull of his hair and jerk his head to where you want him to be.

The moan that leaves Bucky is pornographic, having no idea he liked his hair pulled that much. Bucky abides and takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it. “Oh, Bucky, just like that, feels good.” Bucky has to buck his hips into yours, never hearing something so sexy in all his life.

His other hand comes up to grab your other breast, rolling your nipple in between his fingers, every so often switching to give each one the attention they deserve. The longer he plays with your breasts, the more you feel your panties soak and you can’t take it anymore, needing some type of release.

Bucky pulls away with a pop, the cool air hitting your wet nipples makes you gasp. “Baby, I need you to touch me.” You can sense the words about to leave his mouth and answer his unspoken question. “Touch my pussy.”

Letting out a deep groan, Bucky grabs the hem of your sleep shorts, pulling them and your panties down when you nod. Your hand jets down to cover your pussy when you remember that you haven’t shaved, not expecting to have sex with Bucky tonight. “Wait, I have hair right now, maybe we shouldn’t.”

Bucky just blinks at you. He can’t believe that you would deprive him of your pussy because of a little hair. “Sweets, I have been a patient man, but I swear to God if you don’t move your hand and let me see my pretty pussy I’m going to lose my mind. You really think I give a shit if you have some fucking hair?”

You just smile sheepishly at him before removing your hand. “There she is. Look at her, so beautiful ain’t she? Yeah, she’s dripping for me, knows who she belongs to.” Fuck, you didn’t expect him to be so enamored with your cunt. “Ya gonna let me touch my pretty girl?”

You gulp before giving a breathy yes and Bucky spreads your legs a little wider and brings his right hand up to your pussy lips, gently tracing them making you twitch and giggle. “Bucky, that tickles.” Bucky smiles and his nose scrunches before his thumb goes from your hole up to your clit. “Fuck, Bucky, rub my clit.”

He just stops his movement, resting his thumb on your bundle of nerves. “This is where I’m in charge, sweets, and I don’t think that was a very polite way of talking to the man who is touching you.” You huff, not used to taking orders from anyone, but you want him to keep touching you so you relent.

“Will you please, rub my clit, loverboy.”

Bucky clicks his tongue at you. “Now, sweets, that didn’t sound very genuine but I’ll let it slide this time because I want to see this pretty pussy soak my sheets.”

He starts to rub your clit from side to side, making you jerk your hips away. “Don’t fucking DJ my cunt. Circles, Buck, circles. You’re making me lose faith in you, babe.” Heat makes its way up his neck, his selfishness finally catching up to him. He doesn’t say anything, but switches up his method to what you said and you giggle at his confidence wavering.

His little slip up doesn’t slow him down, though, quickly finding the pace and pressure that seems to work best and draws those pretty sounds from your lips. Bucky knows that he isn’t going to be able to get enough of this, of you laid out on his bed consumed by the pleasure he is giving you.

“You want my fingers inside ya? Cause I wanna feel my pretty girl cum around my fingers.” You can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t remember if you’ve ever gotten to the edge this fast. All you can do is nod, moans and gasps the only sounds leaving your lips.

When his first finger slips inside you, your back arches and somehow the moans leaving you get even sexier and Bucky slips another finger in. “That’s it, pretty girl, suck my fingers in. Doing so good for me, knew you’d treat me so well. Don’t ya think, sweets?” The way he talks to your pussy has you leaking more arousal out.

“Please, Bucky, don’t stop, keep going just like that. M’gonna cum.”

A jolt of excitement shoots up Bucky’s spine. He wanted to see you cum so bad. Using every bit of self control in his body not to speed up, Bucky kept the same pace, curling his fingers to find that spongy patch. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it, sweets, need to feel my pretty girl cum on my fingers. Promise I’ll feed her my cock after.”

Bucky groans with each clench of your cunt around his fingers, more desperate than you for your orgasm. “C’mon, sweets, give it to me. Can feel your clit pulsing. Be my good girl and give me what I want.” That was all you needed to fall off the edge, trusting that Bucky would catch you.

Bucky’s sure that the sight of you cumming is the greatest thing in the world. He couldn’t dream of fucking you and not seeing you fall apart for him. He never stops moving his fingers, riding out your orgasm, only relenting when you push his hand away. It takes a few minutes, but you come back down, an open mouth smile on your face, eyes closed and Bucky falls even harder for you.

Blindly, you search for his pants, wanting to see his cock. “Bring him out, Buck, wanna see my new friend.” If it wasn’t for the orgasm he just gave you, Bucky would have been positive that you were drunk off your ass. Doubling over, Bucky cackles, not expecting to hear that come out of your mouth. “Don’t you laugh at me, loverboy, know your cock is huge. Let me meet him. Wanna put him in my mouth.” You give him a lopsided smirk.

“Don’t worry, sweets, you can meet him.” Bucky struggles to hold back his laugh. In all fairness, he did refer to your pussy as her, but the thought of you calling his dick him is hilarious. Nonetheless, Bucky strips the rest of his clothes off and you practically drool at the sight of his dick.

A little over average length, but thick as hell. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a cock that thick and you know he is going to destroy your cunt. Under his cock, his balls were heavy and full, the amount of cum in there building up just for you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him into you and Bucky has to catch himself with his arms so he doesn’t crush you with his weight.

You both gasp when his bare cock rubs against your soaking cunt. Bucky has to close his eyes and think about all the assignments he still has to complete to stop himself from cumming on the spot. “Want it inside me, please, Buck, give it to me.” Bucky is near the verge of crying when you grind your cunt on him.

All you want is for him to fuck you until you can’t see straight and so does Bucky, but it takes everything in him to put away, knowing that the next words to come out of his mouth aren’t going to be sexy. “Hold on, sweets. I have to get a condom first.”

You don’t like that one bit, wanting to feel him inside you with no barrier. “Don’t need one, ‘m on the pill.” That has Bucky about to cum all over his sheets and your pussy. He knows that he needs to be responsible, not only for him, but for you too.

“Sweets, I, well, I haven’t been tested since my last partner. I’ve never done it without a condom, but I don’t want to risk it until I get tested.” He hangs his head in shame, yet again his promiscuity is coming back to bite him in the ass. What he wouldn’t give to feel your sopping cunt choke his dick, hell only knows, but his statement seems to sober you up.

“Oh, yeah, that’s probably for the best.” You can’t meet his eyes, the conversation awkward enough even if you weren’t about to fuck. Bucky takes in a deep breath and huffs out, clearly not knowing what to do next so you decide to lighten the mood. “Well, loverboy, you better wrap that bad boy up so you can prove that you can actually fuck me like you said you would.”

You got Bucky to crack a smile before he gave a small smack to your thigh and walked over to his nightstand to get a condom. You wolf whistled when you saw his toned ass. “Damn, baby, you’ve been holding out on me?”

Bucky wheels around and says some clever retort, but you don’t hear it, not when his cock swings around with him, bobbing at the sudden change of direction. Not only that, but with each step he takes, his dick bounces up and down. “Sweetheart, it’s all yours. Stare all you want but close your mouth before I put somethin’ in there.”

Bucky rolls the condom down his length, giving it a few pumps while he admires you laid out on his bed, naked and ready for him to fuck you. Before he climbs back into bed, you stop him. “Wait, loverboy, do a little spin for me, let me see him move.”

Throwing his head back, Bucky lets out a belly laugh, and he just so happens to make his cock and balls bounce. “C’mon, s’all I want.” When he calms down, Bucky relents and circles his hips a few times, his cock, although stiff, moves with his hips and you have to close your legs to try to relieve the ache in your core. “Fuck, need you now, Bucky.”

“Yeah, sweets, you need my cock? Does my pretty girl need to be stuffed with my cock?” No smart retort comes to your mind, only the need to have him fill you up. It’s been way too long since you’ve had sex and you know Bucky’s cock is going to ruin you for anyone else.

“Please, Buck.” Fuck, the way you’re looking at him, with wide, pleading eyes, and a pout on your lips has Bucky’s dick pulsing. He climbs on the bed, in between your legs. “How do you want me?” You’ve overheard Bucky relive his one night stands more than once in class, before he fell for you. He was always adamant that the only positions worth doing were the ones where he could see the girl’s ass, and how boring positions where he could see her face were.

Bucky stares at you for a second, cupping your face and leaning down to give you a tender kiss. “Want you just like this, sweets, wanna see you.” You swallow hard, willing yourself not to cry at how intimate he’s being. Despite your best efforts, tears well up in your eyes, making Bucky panic.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” His eyes hold so much love, something Bucky never thought he would feel for a partner. You wrap your legs and arms around him, clinging like a koala.

“Not a damn thing, Buck, just love you. Love you so fucking much it hurts.” Bucky feels his heart swell. If this is what it felt like to love and be loved, Bucky would spend the rest of his life trying to keep you, show you how perfect you are, love you as hard as he can and then some.

“Sweetheart, I can’t even put into words how much I fucking love you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, made me change from the asshole I was.” Bucky had his own tears welling up in his waterline.

“Buck, make love to me, show me how much you love me.” Reaching down, you wrap your hand around his dick, drawing a gasp from his lips, and line him up with your pussy. He presses his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes as he pushes in, cock stretching your cunt with every inch.

Crashing his lips into yours, Bucky tries to hide his moan, whiny and long, never feeling such intense pleasure. Neither of you can kiss, just gasping into the other’s mouth. When his hips are flush with yours, balls resting against your ass, Bucky has to stop. If he moves he’ll cum; he knows it. He’s never felt like he would cum on the first stroke, but the way your cunt hugs him has him doubting that he’ll last more than a few minutes.

You can’t handle it, the stretch of his cock almost too much, but you needed him to move. “Please, baby, move, need it.” The moan that leaves him is sinful and you involuntarily clench around him.

“Sweets, can’t. Need a minute.” His arms go to your waist, and he pulls you up, groaning when his cock shifts deeper inside you, and sits with his back against the headboard, keeping you wrapped in his arms, bodies pressed so close together you could feel every muscle. Bucky closes his eyes, resting his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and relishing in the intimacy of the moment, with your breasts squished against his chest, feeling every breath you take, loving your soft hands scratching his scalp.

“Do this with all the girls, loverboy?” The breathiness in your voice has his cock pulsing against your walls.

“Never, sweetheart, never. You feel so fucking good.” Bucky sounded like he was about to cry with how hard he was trying not to cum.

You wanted him to fuck you, pussy leaking down his thighs. You decided that if you annoy him enough he might just fuck you dumb. “Guess I was right then, loverboy can’t last in bed. Gonna tell everyone how I broke your cock, how fast you came for me.”

That seemed to strike a nerve and Bucky rolled over, pining you to the bed with his body. You gasped at the quick motion and the jostle of his cock. “Sweets, now is not the time to tease me. Use your mouth for something better.” He could already hear your, like what, so he cut you off before you could get anything out. “Like moaning my name while I fuck you.”

He doesn’t pull his cock out far, wanting to stay as close to you as possible. Pushing back in, he groans, having to will himself not to cum. You feel so good, pussy wrapped around him perfectly. “Sweets, love you so much, never wanna leave this pussy.” You whine, a jolt of pleasure going through your clit at his words.

“Love you too, Buck. Want to stay like this forever, want you.” It’s Bucky’s turn to whine, rutting into you, the coarse curls at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, the sensation of your breasts pressed to him new to him.

He can’t help it, you just look too pretty underneath him, grabbing both of your hands in his, lacing them together and putting them above your head and pressing his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes. His lips meet yours, both of your whines and moans mix together.

The constant roll of his hips is pushing you to the edge faster than ever before. You take one of your hands, still laced with his, and place it over his heart, feeling the erratic beat. The coil in your stomach is curling tighter and tighter. “C’mon, sweets, can feel you clenching ‘round me. Give it to me, cum on my cock.”

Bucky is doing his best to hold on, wanting this moment to last, to relish in the bubble the two of you have created. His moans get louder, his own orgasm creeping up on him. Wiggling your other hand out of his grasp, you run your fingers over the back of his head, crashing your lips on his before you fall off the edge, eyes rolling back and body quivering, his body the only thing grounding you.

He had to pull out, your pussy almost milking his cum out, but he didn’t want to cum just yet. He wants to make you cum again, this time while he looks at your face, seeing it scrunch up in pleasure. You didn’t seem too happy at him for pulling out, needing him to be as close as possible. “Keep fucking me, Bucky. I need you to cum for me.”

Bucky groans before guiding his cock back home, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels your pussy somehow got even tighter. Not wasting any time, he starts thrusting again, this time much faster, still rolling his hips, hitting your sweet spot every time.

Pulling his body away from yours, Bucky sits up, resting your thighs over his, keeping his dick inside of you, not missing a single thrust. With the new position, he can see your breasts bounce, but more importantly, how beautiful your face looks screwed in ecstasy. “So fucking beautiful for me, sweets. Love the way your pretty tits jiggle, look gorgeous when your getting fucked dumb on my cock, gonna keep you like this all the time.”

In this position, your clit is being neglected so you reach one hand down, desperate to cum again. Bucky quickly swats your hand away, replacing it with his own. “Ah, ah, I’m gonna make my girl cum. Just want you to lay there and look pretty for me. Can you do that for me?” You just moan in response, thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit, bringing you to the edge again. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes! I’ll do anything you want.” You feel Bucky’s cock pulsing inside of you, thrusts becoming sloppy and losing their rhythm. “Cum for me, Bucky, fill me up with your cum.” You both know that he is wearing a condom, but the thought of his cum rushing into your pussy, stuffing you to the brim, is enough to have Bucky emptying his balls into the rubber, groaning deep, almost whining your name.

He can’t stop thrusting into you, still rubbing your clit, desperate for you to cum around him. “Sweets, so much fucking cum for you, know you can take it. Fuck, cum for me, milk my cock, get every drop out.” Bucky was right, you looked absolutely divine when you came. At that moment you’ve never looked prettier.

Bucky never felt an orgasm that intense, leaving him weak in the knees. Collapsing onto your chest, not able to hold his own weight up. You huff, air being pushed out of your lungs, but you don’t mind, his weight soothing, helping to bring you back down from the highs of your orgasms. You both lay there, hands stroking each other until you fully come back to reality.

“Gonna pull out, sweets, okay?” Bucky has never had his cock in a girl this long after he’s came, and it was getting too sensitive. Words don’t come to mind and you just nod your head dumbly, both of you hissing at the sensation.

Without a word, Bucky gets up and heads to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean himself up. All of a sudden tears well up in your eyes, body cold and craving his touch. He’s been so sweet to you for the past months, proving that he didn’t just want sex with you, but now he’s walking away as soon as you’re done.

The buzzing of your body goes away, dread filling you. Rolling over, you burrito yourself under the covers, facing away from the bathroom, not able to stop the tears from streaming down your face. It only takes a few minutes, but to you it feels like a lifetime, until Bucky comes back, sliding under the covers himself.

“So, sweets, what do ya’ want to do? I could go for a bite to eat myself. Don’t know when the last time you ate was though.” Bucky, on the other hand, was basking in the afterglow of the best sex of his life, already thinking about all the things he could do with you, all the ways he could get you to cum for him.

When you don’t respond right away, Bucky thinks you fell asleep. Leaving a kiss to the back of your head, he gets up and puts his sweats on, not bothering with anything else and heads to your kitchen. He doesn’t feel like making a full meal so he decides to just make a quick sandwich and head back to bed after eating.

You burst into full blown sobs when Bucky leaves, assuming that he left your dorm all together, having no idea that he was just outside. How could you have been so stupid to think that he really wanted you? Bucky goes to take a bite out of his snack when he hears your sobs, immediately thinking the worst - he hurt you, did something you didn’t like.

Rushing back into the room, Bucky climbs back into bed, rolling you over without warning. “What are you still doing here? Thought you left?” How could you ever think that he would leave you?

“No, sweets, just went to make a sandwich. What’s going on? Why are you crying?” Bucky has never been so fucking scared in all his life, terrified that he hurt you.

“Thought you left after you got what you wanted. You just left me in the bed after we were done.” Bucky’s eyes widened, not expecting you to say that. He doesn’t know what he did wrong. He’s never stuck around after sex, confused at what’s going on with you.

“Sweets, I’m so sorry that I made you think that, but I don’t know what’s going on. Need you to talk to me. I don’t want you to think I don’t care.” Your bottom lip wobbled, of course he didn’t know about aftercare. It wasn’t his fault that he never had a relationship like this. It meant so much to you that he was asking how to fix his mistake.

“I get really sensitive after sex. It’s annoying actually, but I need to be held and told that you still love me.” You avoid his gaze, more tears making their way down your face, Bucky wiping them away. How could his perfect girl think that her needs were annoying or an inconvenience to him.

“Oh, sweetheart, come here.” Bucky pulls you into his lap, almost petting your hair. “You did so good for me, you know that? I love you so fucking much and nothing is going to change that, okay?” He pulls your head back to look into your eyes.

“It’s just that my last boyfriend said that he couldn’t look at me after sex, said he couldn’t see me the same way.” What in the fuck.

“Sweetheart, I need you to understand that I know that I’m the fucking luckiest man alive to be able to be with you any way you let me. When I look at you I’m so proud to call you mine.”

You bury your head in his shoulder, letting him hold you and whisper sweet words in your ear. For his first time doing aftercare, Bucky is doing great and soon you come all the way down. Pulling away from him you giggle. “Love you too, Buck. Thank you for that. I know some men don’t care about that. After they get what they want they leave.” Bucky hangs his head in shame, thinking about all the girls he made feel like they were worthless. “I know that you did the same thing, but the fact that you were so willing to change means a lot to me.”

Bucky knows that there’s a lot he has to learn about being in a relationship, but he wants to learn it all to be the man you deserve. He is going to treat you like the goddess you are for the rest of his life, he knows it, already planning on picking out a ring, because he’s gonna love you for a long, long time.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky smut #sebastian stan x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #fuckboy!bucky #bucky x f!reader #bucky fluff

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peachsayshi · 2 months

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✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ blessings ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

↬ summary: nanami kento tries to be the perfect husband and father but when a tough night fighting curses ends badly it results in nanami snapping at his daughter.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬･tags: nanami x female reader; hurt/comfort; nanami has a daughter; domestic drama; being a jujutsu sorcerer is hard; momotarō is a famous Japanese folk tale :c ↬･ wc: 3,383

↬ notes: hi, everyone! I'm currently not really active at the moment so please don't feel disheartened if I haven't been responding to your messages or tagged posts. I'm taking a small break and only coming online for a bit to catch up on some messages, read fics or queue posts. I'll be back to properly posting and interacting soon but in the meantime I wanted to share that I finished up this draft over the weekend. I was actually debating if I should post this but then just decided to go for it! sending all my love xx

nanami’s head is heavy, completely clouded with despair, and it tints his brown eyes a shade of murky gray. the walls of his beautiful home feel narrow, almost claustrophobic, which explains why he’s struggling to catch his breath right now. stepping into the hallway, he instinctively peeks into the dining area to find you and his daughter eating dinner together. she’s sitting on the chair, her legs far too short to even touch the ground, holding a half eaten onigiri between her small hands. you are by her side, sneakily tidying up after her as you brush away the stray beads of rice trickling onto the table.

a little glow blooms in nanami’s heart at the sight of you both but there is a vicious creature residing in the pit of his stomach that veils the bright light away.

he quietly takes off his jacket, his bruised fingers loosening the tie around his neck. he clears his throat before announcing with exhaustion to you both that he’s finally home.

your eyes meet his, the muscles on your face falling immediately. he can practically feel the blood rushing through your veins as worry washes over you. the reaction makes his chest uncomfortably tight, but he knows that he can’t hide his expressions around you like he used to.

you both move together so fluidly now, like a single body of water that ebbs and flows to its own natural current.

he escaped the night’s fight with a few cuts and a couple of bad bruises, but there is currently a student on shoko’s table who barely made it through. the young man arrived at jujutsu tech only a couple of weeks ago, but his naive and charismatic qualities turned into fatal flaws in the world of sorcery.

he bit off more than he could chew by trying to take on a special grade curse.

shoko promised nanami that she would heal the boy, but admitted there was only so much she can do in regards to the aftermath of his injuries. the sorcerer couldn’t bare to leave him behind, but gojo refused that he stay and insisted that he return back home to his pretty wife and adorable daughter immediately.

“I’ll handle things from here,” is what his superior said, while nanami’s guilt climbed up his throat.

that student was his responsibility...

...and he failed him entirely.

“papa’s home!” his daughter chirps. the pitch of her voice ringing in nanami’s ears to pull him back to the present and far away from the scene where life and death were dancing together in a tango. “papa, look, look...mama and I made onigiri!”

her feet bounces up and down, and there’s a touch of a pink against her cheeks when her mouth stretches into a beaming grin. the innocence in her eyes makes nanami falter and he can feel himself falling deeper into the abyss. for a minute he resents himself for selfishly bringing such a beautiful thing into this world, only to gamble with the fact that she may potentially be in his shoes one day.

he begs for that outcome to never happen, beseeches whatever higher power above him that exists to spare her from this life. she should never have to go through this, never have to experience these heartbreaks that only wither a person down.

“I can see that,” nanami replies in a low voice before shifting his attention to his feet.

right now, he can’t stomach an ounce of her purity, and it radiates around her like a halo. she's so unbothered by his presence, so completely unaware of the sudden change in the atmosphere around her...

“we made tuna, salmon, and veggies...” she babbles on.

“how nice...” nanami curtly interrupts, before anxiously running his fingers through the strands of his messy blonde hair.

“which one do you want, papa?” she questions eagerly, pointing her sticky hands at the plate to show off the selection of triangles.

“sweets,” you interject just as nanami turns on his heel to walk in the other direction, “how about we finish up eating our dinner, and we can save some for your daddy tomorrow...”

“nooo!” she whines far too loudly, which forces nanami to stop dead in his tracks. he glances over his shoulder to see her puffing out her bottom lip with disappointment, “you said...you said we make it so we eat together!”

she’s only six.

she can’t perceive that her father is struggling to hold himself together. deep down inside nanami knows that, but it isn’t enough to keep his cool. he doesn’t know why his daughter’s insistence causes him to pinch the front of his brows with annoyance or why he shoots a frustrated look in her direction.

he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly picturing shoko calling the student’s parents to deliver the news that the man who was supposed to protect their child was unsuccessful in his duty.

he doesn’t know why he feels at fault for everything that happened, even though the circumstances of the events were completely out of his control.

he doesn’t know why he’s imagining himself on the receiving end of a very similar call, or why he can’t stop picturing his precious daughter on that table instead…

all of this pummels into him, and the monster emerges out from it’s cave.

“be quiet and stop making such a fuss.”

his voice comes out sharper than expected, and the expulsion of his frustration allows him to see the crystal clear picture before him.

the room is dead silent.

your face is in full shock at the hissing tone of your sweet husband snapping at his darling baby girl who he only ever speaks to with a gentle voice.

what truly unravels nanami is the look that his daughter is giving him - her angelic features are sullen, but her eyes remain wide with surprise. her bottom lip is slack, and the only sound he can hear is her uneasy breathing. her eyes, the most beautiful gems in existence, twinkle as tears begin to form and she tries to quickly blink them away before turning her attention back to her plate.

nanami doesn’t know he managed to stop time itself but the three of you remain frozen in place.

he regrets his words immediately.

he wants nothing more than to pull his precious girl close into his chest and smother her with apologies. the part of him with sense tells him to follow through and make things right with her, but instead he begrudgingly continues to wallow in his own self pity as he walks over to his room.

･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

the house is unusually quiet now, the music of domestic joy morphing into hushed murmurs and whispers outside your room door. you settle your crestfallen daughter into her bedroom before moving to check on your husband next.

fresh out of the shower, nanami is seated on the edge of the bed with his exhausted eyes pressed firmly into the palms of his hands. he exhales a heavy breath, his dirty work clothes still piled just outside the bathroom, and your heart nearly collapses seeing him in such a state of disarray.

you kneel before him, two hands sliding across the soft material of his sweats as you brush them along his thighs before carefully bringing them up to circle around his wrists.

“kento?”

he allows you to pull his palms away but your throat constricts when a band forms tightly around your neck. you swallow the lump with an upturn of your brows as you are greeted with red, exhausted eyes. you cup that handsome face in your hands, your thumbs sweetly motioning back and forth across his cheeks as you try to soothe the tension away.

after all this time together, it hurts you to see that he still tries to hide his tears. nanami constantly holds himself to the highest standard, always ensuring that he can solidify himself as the rock for you and your daughter to depend on through thick and thin. it’s so rare for you to see him crack, to watch him crumble under the overbearing weight of the things that he is burdened to carry.

“you had a rough night,” you point out in a low, sympathetic voice and he simply just nods his head in acknowledgement.

his eyes flutter close again when you lean forward to press a tender, reassuring kiss on his brow. “you want a talk about it?”

the way his voice shakes makes you shiver, but you tentatively listen as he relays the events of the night before finally concluding that satoru called him only a few minutes ago to reassure him that the student in question is alright.

“he lost an eye, but at least he’s alive...” he concludes somberly, the warble in his final statement prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck as you pull him in for a protective hug.

nanami receives it with gratitude, strong arms circling around your waist as he buries his nose into the crook of your shoulder and breathes in.

your scent is a reminder of his permanent sanctuary.

a safety, a reassurance of home.

you stroke his blonde locks between your fingers until he exhales, "i'm so sorry," he breathes, "I...I didn't mean to snap like that..."

a tiny smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you unravel yourself to cup his jaw into your palms once again. "I appreciate the apology, but I don't think I should be on the receiving end of it..." you hint sweetly.

nanami closes his eyes guiltily. "I'm a horrible father."

you click your tongue with disappointment, your face falling as your disapproval pinches between the space of your brows.

"you're just human," you remind him defensively, "you're a wonderful father, the best man that our daughter can look up to"

"did you see the look on her face?" he replies, his voice unnaturally small. the tender expression he gives you is filled with regret, and it's enough to make your heart ache all over again.

"kento," you contend, "don't do this to yourself. we're both going to have days where we mess up, but that doesn't mean that the problem can't be fixed."

you thread his hair between your fingers, like your brushing through rays sunlight. "she's waiting for me to read her a bedtime story," you explain, "but I'm sure she would rather be with you instead..."

"I doubt that," your husband replies as he reaches for your hand to kiss the inside of your palm.

"we will always love you, kento," you answer back, "unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"

he didn't even know how desperately he needed to hear that, for your certainty to remedy away all his sorrows, until they actually left your lips.

your husband's throat tightens, tears pricking his eyes once more but he hides them away when he leans in to seek out a kiss from the woman whose heart he deeply adores.

･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

nanami leans his shoulder against the frame of his daughter's room. his heart patters lightly, making him realize that he might actually be nervous. it's strange, he thinks, that he would feel hesitant to approach his own child considering that he was her guardian but nanami had never allowed his professional life to fracture into his personal one like this before.

she's seated on the floor next to a pile of books and her stuffed rabbit secured tightly underneath her arm. there's a warmth in his chest when when he makes note of the soft toy, because he purchased that himself the day she was born and the pair have been inseparable ever since.

he clears his throat, bringing his scuffed knuckles to gently knock on the door.

"my love?" he calls out to her.

his daughter perks up, her breathing changing slightly as it rises and falls with a hint of apprehension. she glances over her shoulder to see him.

"where's mama?" she asks, her question shattering the man into a million pieces at her subtle dismissal.

"taking a shower," he answers cooly, "but I'm here to get you ready for bed..."

her lovely eyes refuse to lock into his own, and she simply tucks her lip between her bottom teeth to avoid giving nanami a reply.

she looks so much like him when he was a child. he remembered when his parents used to scold him too, and how he would also hide away in his room. the only difference is that nanami's parents were far more traditional - a time where elders were never submissive to young hearts.

"may I come in?" he requests politely, ensuring that his daughter knew she had a choice if she wanted to speak to him.

her nostrils flare slightly while she considers him, but to his relief she nods her head eagerly.

nanami steps into her room, always feeling largely out of place amongst her things. "did you find a story for bed?" he asks.

she again quietly nods her head and picks up her favorite book; a compilation of japanese folktales with beautiful illustrations. you both have been reading one for her each night ever since she got it it as a present from her grandparents.

he crouches on his knees to meet her at eye level. "you've really been enjoying this one, haven't you?" he carries on, hoping to coax more words out of her.

“yeah,” she replies in the same mousy voice of uncertainty. she shifts her attention away when she stands on her feet, clutching onto the stuffed bunny tightly while her other hand swings the book by her side.

“and what tale are we reading tonight?”

she shrugs her shoulders with indifference, a hint of pink blushing her cheek. “I dunno. I…I can just until mama is ready…”

nanami visibly slumps. her rejection an entirely new painful experience that he's never endured before. he scratches the back of his head anxiously, finding himself at a loss for words. the seconds pass, an awkward bubble surrounding both father and daughter. it’s only broken when nanami exhales a sigh, and reaches his hands towards her waist to draw her into his frame.

“darling,” he addresses tenderly, “can you look at me?”

“no, you were mean…” she blurts out, her bottom lip trembling slightly.

nanami’s heart sinks.

that’s the first time he’s ever heard those words from her lips.

“I know,” he murmurs shamefully.

her mouth forms into a tiny button of a pout but she meets his eyes for the first time as he acknowledges his behavior.

nanami arches forward to kiss her forehead, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, sweetheart. I’m so sorry if I upset or scared you”

she fidgets with the book in her hand. “did you not want onigiri?” she asks, her innocence tugging the corners of her father’s lips into a small grin.

“it wasn’t the onigiri, my love,” he reassures, “daddy just…had a bad day at work…”

“why was it bad?”

nanami sighs once again.

she still doesn’t know that he’s a sorcerer. you’ve both reduced his position to her by simply explaining that nanami “helps and protects people".

thankfully your daughter doesn’t pry too hard to ask any further questions.

“someone I know got hurt. so, daddy was a little shaken up when he came home…”

"shaken up?"

"scared, my love"

his daughter shakes her head in disbelief, “nu-uh, you never get scared, papa” she rebuts.

nanami huffs out a laugh, flashing her a full grin now as he brings his fingers to his chin to to ponder her sweet statement. he quirks his brow and cheekily replies, "we can't all be brave like you," in an attempt to lighten the mood.

his daughter narrows her eyes towards his hand, her mind instantly distracted with other things already. "you got hurt too papa!" she gasps, dropping the bunny by her side to point at his knuckles.

nanami glances at his fingers covered in red marks.

"wait!" she exclaims as she places the book by his side. "I have something!"

she spins on her heel and rushes towards one of her drawers. meanwhile, nanami just takes her in with his love soaked eyes, watching as she rummages through her stuff with determination until she scurries back his way.

"got it!" she squeaks with a smile, and to his surprise she jumps right into his arms with such nonchalance it nearly make him crumble on the spot.

your voice echoes in the back of his mind: "we will always love you, kento. unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"

"mama bought it for me," she explains, regaining her father's attention once more.

nanami rests his cheek on her shoulder, and inhales her powdery scent as he keeps one arm warmly secured around her waist. he watches her peel off the plaster of the band aid, lbefore grabbing his hand and placing it unevenly over his knuckles.

"now a kiss!" she adds, as she brings his hand to her mouth and exaggerates a loud "mwah" sound for emphasis. "mama says the kiss is what makes it all better"

nanami instantly feels significantly better from this remedy of love. he extends his digits out, and looks at the hot pink "hello kitty" band aid that now rests comfortably on his knuckles.

"thank you, my darling," he coos and peppers her cheek with a few kisses before turning her to face him once again. "you made me feel a lot better"

she flashes him an equally large smile in return, showing off her missing teeth.

"I did?"

nanami chuckles as he scoops her up in his arms to give her a well deserved bear hug. she laughs as he stands on his two feet, and sheds away any lingering thoughts of apprehension that may have stuck.

"you always do," he reassures, his soul vibrating back to life when he feels her return his embrace. “you think you can forgive me for how I spoke earlier?”

“yeah,” she confirms and squeezes him just a little tighter. "I love you lots, papa"

"oh, my angel," he hums, "you have no idea just how much I love you too..."

･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

after winding down from your evening pampering session, you decide to pass by your daughter's room to check on your little family. you peer through the cracked door to find nanami spread out on your daughter’s bed, with your daughter curled into side and her head resting on his chest.

“did I come from a peach too like momotarō?” you hear her ask, but your heart flutters at the sight of your husband’s pearly whites.

you’ll never get over how much you love seeing him smile with such genuine emotion.

“no,” you hear nanami reply calmly, his finger lightly holding the page open. “you remember your mother explaining how you used to live in her stomach first?”

“oh yeah,” your daughter replies with a hint of disappointment over the fact that she was not birthed from a piece of fruit as mentioned in one of her favorite folk tales.

“shall I carry on?”

“uh-huh,” she answers and she readjusts her position to get even more comfortable. "I think if we look hard enough we might find momotarō..."

"you think so?" your husband wonders with honest curiosity.

"I know so, papa!"

"how many peaches do you think we need to check?"

"hmmm," she mumbles, "maybe a million?"

"a million?" your husband dramatically replies, "that's a lot of peaches don't you think,"

"I mean, it's less than a billion..." she responds quite matter of factly.

you catch his gaze from between the door that’s ajar. his expression fully relaxes, and you smile knowingly in his direction at the sight of father and daughter making up.

“papa?” his daughter questions upon his sudden silence, but your husband keeps his focus on you as he hums in acknowledgement before replying, "you're not wrong, but it'll still be quite a challenge to cut through a million peaches..."

"we might need some help," your daughter adds on.

you blow him a secret kiss as to not interrupt further, and quietly close the door before heading back to your bedroom.

#[peach is away.💌]#[peach queues.🧡]#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x female reader #nanami x ofc #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento angst #nanami angst #nanami hurt/comfort #jujutsu kaisen angst #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen fan fiction #jjk fluff

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