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blckbrdlove · 10 months

Text

someone else lights up the room

paring: eren jeager x reader

summary: it’s mid-september and eren’s falling in love for the first time in his whole life. too bad for mikasa, it isn’t with her, but with you.

genre: fluff, smut, slight angst (just in case)

notes: well pals! here she is!! my long, long awaited re-write for this series. a lot of this will seem familiar to those who read this part when i first posted this series, but there is some new stuff we haven’t read yet as well! after this part, almost everything we see will be new to all of us. i am very happy to get this out and to hear everyone’s thoughts on the re-write. reblogs and comments are much, much appreciated. please give me any and all feedback you may have. i know i put it off, and missed lots of deadlines i promised you guys, but i have put my whole heart into her. i am very excited to get this whole series out and completed to you guys, which will all be posted (hopefully) before the end of august. title credits; nothing new; taylor swift ft. phoebe bridgers

warnings: MINORS DNI, angst, fluff, meet cute, eren is a hopeless romantic, eren is a gentleman, eren is a sweet boy, eren falls in love with reader basically at first sight and has been smitten with her ever since, reader recently got out of a toxic relationship and is still healing- but is also very smitten with eren, unrequited love (mikasa), mentions of creampie, jealousy, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving)

word count: 8k

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Eren spots you from across the courtyard walking with your little blonde friend after his final class for the day. It makes him stop and completely tune out whatever Mikasa is trying to talk to him about regarding their upcoming applications for medical school that are due in a few weeks.

You’ve got on a little light blue floral dress that shows off your legs and collar bones beautifully, and paired with some strappy white sandals that show off the pretty polish on your toenails.

It makes him wonder if your skin is as soft as it looks from this distance. He bets it is, and he bets you smell really good, too.

Your friend says something that makes you laugh, the sound bringing a half grin on Eren’s own face as his heart stutters in his chest.

Mikasa looks up to see if he’s paying attention, quickly taking notice of the gleam in his eyes and half smile beginning to take up his face. It almost makes her smile before she realizes he isn’t even paying attention to her.

Her gaze follows the direction of his, quickly noticing you walking in their direction with your friend’s arm linked through yours.

She quickly frowns, being unfortunately reminded of the deep infatuation that Eren has with you that began during last spring’s semester. Honestly, the first time he talked about you, she thought you were an idiot, being the only junior in a freshman level chemistry class and barely passing. She often wondered if Eren tweaked your grades on the papers and exams he graded as Professor Hange’s TA, not that she would ever admit that to him.

Annie had been the one to inform him that you had a boyfriend, and had been with said boyfriend since high school, her knowing from not only going to high school with you and your friends but having been in the same friend group before she broke up with Bertholdt. Apparently her friendship wasn’t as valued to you guys as his was and she made her quick exit and found herself in their little friend group now, thanks to her and Armin’s relationship, if you could even call it that currently.

Discovering your relationship didn’t quell Eren’s interest a bit, and he asked Annie to tell him everything she knew about you, which was actually quite a bit despite not being very close to you.

Annie met you through your, now ex, boyfriend Porco Galliard. You were a cheerleader and top of your class at Marley Prep and you have stupid rich parents who fund your whole lifestyle and want you to be the happiest you can be.

In Mikasa’s mind, you just really aren’t the type of person she think Eren would be happy with. Sure, his family is well off, but your parents, from what she knows, are on a whole different level, and you seem shallow.

She ends up so lost in thought she doesn’t even hear Armin walk up and start a conversation with them, going off about some party that Annie said she was going to tonight and hinted that she’d like to see him there if he was available.

“Armin, not that I mind going with you, but I’m not sure why you need me to go with you?” Eren spoke with slight confusion.

Armin looks between Eren and Mikasa, “I’ll just feel better if the two of you are there with me,”

Eren’s gaze turns soft when he notices how tense Armin is, how nervous he actually is at the thought of joining Annie at this party. Mikasa speaks up before Eren can respond, “We have a really, really important lab tomorrow, but as long as we aren’t out too late we can come.”

It almost upsets Eren at how definitive her answer is, how she’s decided for them that they need to be home at a certain time, that he needs to be home at a certain time. He isn’t a child, and he’s getting tired of all the coddling he gets between Mikasa and his mother.

“Lab isn’t until 9 anyway, so we don’t have to be home that early anyway.”

Armin throws his arms around his two best friends, mumbling quick thank you’s and you guys are the best.

εїз

Eren doesn’t exactly hate parties, but he didn’t particularly want to be here tonight. He’s under a lot of stress with his applications for early acceptance to his top medical school choices being due soon and his mom has been on his ass about coming to visit, which he typically doesn’t mind doing but before returning to campus for this last year at university, he and his dad got into a huge fight over where he’d be going to school and residencies and all the bullshit he didn’t want to deal with, especially since he still hasn’t told his dad that he doesn’t know if he plans on going to medical school.

But there isn’t a thing in the world he wouldn’t do for Armin, and if Armin needs him here for moral support, then he’s here.

Grabbing a cup and putting who knows what is in it, he turns around to make his way back to the living room to find his friends when he stumbles into another body. Reaching for your wrist, nearly dropping his cup in the process, he helps steady your body as his eyes widen slightly realizing just who it is he just ran into.

You’re slightly more intoxicated than you’d typically like to be, but after spending the afternoon watching your phone blow up with text after text from Porco before you finally had to buckle down and block him, again, over some of the hateful things he had sent you, all you wanted to do was drink and forget about the stupid break up, which paired perfectly with the fact that Hitch had wanted to come to this party and stalk Marlo.

Eren’s eyes trail up your figure, taking in all of you. Tonight you’re wearing dark wash jeans that compliment you in all the right places, light rips line the area of your thighs. The denim comes up and rests perfectly on your hips, while the light pink top you have on hugs your chest in a way that Eren knows if he looks for too long, his own jeans will start to get tight, with the amount of cleavage your showing on top of the way it clings to you.

Your own eyes look over him, taking in his pairing of dark wash jeans and a plain black shirt that clings to his muscles just right. He’s got nice hair too, you note to yourself, and it’s thrown into a sexy messy bun. You can’t help but wonder if it’s as soft as it looks.

The two of you make eye contact and it feels like his eyes are trying to find your soul with how deeply he’s looking at you.

Your staring is interrupted by Hitch, who stumbles in and grabs your free wrist with a giddy look in her eyes, “You won’t believe who just got here,” And just like that, you’re pulled away from him and into the crowd of people.

Hitch drags you over to your other two friends. Historia is sitting on Ymir’s lap as the latter is whispering, what you can only assume, dirty words in her ear. The way Historia is fidgeting in her girlfriend’s lap with her lip between her teeth makes you fairly sure that the two won’t be here for much longer.

You look at Hitch with a raised eyebrow and tilt your head back to the two of them in question. “Reiner is here.” Distaste fills your features at the mention of the blond brute as you hum before taking Historia’s cup from her and drinking the bitter, clean liquid.

“Vodka? Yuck.” Your face is scrunched up as you close your eyes and drink the remainder of the drink. You look back at Hitch, “No Pieck?”

Hitch frowns at the mention of the dark haired girl and shakes her head, not knowing why you would even bother to ask.

Pieck wasn’t initially your friend, she was his friend, but she quickly embedded herself into your friend group after you had started dating him. Hitch never really liked her, to be fair Hitch doesn’t really like anyone, in fact she always thought Pieck had tried a little too hard to be your friend, always looked at you a little too long. There had been multiple occasions where the shorter girl would lace her fingers with yours when she thought no one was paying attention, or Hitch would find her sending a heated glare in Proco’s direction when he would cling to you in front of her.

And it’s not like she’s even been around since the monumental breakup that occurred in June. Sending all of your calls to voicemail and neglecting the group chat before Ymir had enough and finally just kicked her out completely.

Needless to say, Hitch thought Pieck was fucking weird. But what she thought was weirder was that after you and Porco broke up, she completely ghosted not only the group- which Hitch could’ve excused- but you as well. Hitch couldn’t care less about Pieck not wanting to stay friends with her, but what bothered her was how hurt you were over it.

Sure, you have herself, Historia, and Ymir. Hitch has been your best friend since first grade and has never been anything less than your rock. Always there when you need her and never letting you down. And Historia joined the two of you, turning your duo into a trio in sixth grade when you and Hitch decided to join the cheer squad for middle school, and you met Historia at tryouts. The three of you made the squad and the rest was history.

When Ymir started dating Historia freshman year of college, she quickly learned how much you and Hitch meant to her, and in turn, as long as it was in her means, if you needed anything she was there.

But Pieck’s different, she’s no Historia, and she’s definitely no Hitch, but she’s Pieck and you hold a lot of love for her. And you were absolutely heartbroken that when you called her after the huge final blowout between you and Porco and she didn’t answer.

Sure, Hitch and Historia know how bad your relationship was, they know everything, but Pieck was the only one who saw how bad it was. It killed you to know she didn’t care enough to even just answer or send you a stupid text despite everything.

As if she can sense your mood dampening, Hitch grabs your hands, smiling wide and giddy again as she remembers why she drug you out of the kitchen in the first place, “You will not believe who is here!”

You roll your eyes playfully as you turn to give her your full attention so she can talk all about Marlo, not even noticing the eyes that can’t stop looking in your direction.

Across the room Eren stands with Mikasa and Armin, the blonde nearly sweating through his light blue button up shirt. Despite trying to calm him down, Mikasa can tell Eren’s mind is elsewhere. He keeps glancing across the room.

Following his eyes, Mikasa’s land on you with your friends and she has to fight an eyeroll, already irritated with being here.

Despite thinking his crush was stupid, hollow even, she couldn’t deny that she’ll never forget how upset she had been when she overheard Eren talk about you with Armin, the former had told him that you were probably the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

When she looked up your instagram later that same night, her stomach knotted as she noticed just how pretty you looked in all your photos, how put together you always seemed. Mikasa’s never really been insecure over girls Eren had brought in and out over the years, but you were just a different story.

Armin seems to finally catch on to the fact that Eren isn’t paying attention to his nervous ranting.

“Eren! Hello?” Armin finally snaps him out of trance, Eren looking at him briefly before looking back over at you, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” He tells him off handedly, gaze still on you. You have a bright smile on your face as Hitch says something, he assumes, is funny.

“You should just go talk to her,” Armin finally tells him with an exasperated sigh, which causes both Eren and Mikasa’s heads to snap towards him.

“Why would I do that?” “Why would he do that?” Eren’s eyes meet Mikasa’s as she blushes harshly under his gaze that holds deep offense.

Armin looks between the two before he clears his throat awkwardly, “I mean it’s not like she has a boyfriend anymore or anything. Worst case scenario she ignores you,”

Eren nods before frowning slightly, “Yeah, but I almost knocked her down in the kitchen and didn’t even apologize,”

Armin looks at him with wide eyes, almost gasping, “You mean to tell me you finally had a chance to talk to her? And you didn’t?”

Another offended look is on Eren’s face in an instant, “How do you know I didn’t talk to her?”

Armin scoffs as he rolls his eyes at Eren’s question, “Well, actually, I know you. And I know for a fact that you didn’t talk to her because you wouldn’t be over here with us talking about her, you’d be over there with her. And I also know that even if talking to her didn’t work out, you still would’ve said something about it.”

Mikasa frowns again, “But aren’t we supposed to be here to support you, Armin? I mean you’re a nervous wreck.” Armin gives her a weird side eye, and frowns lightly at her behavior.

“I mean I have you here, and Jean and Connie are here if all else fails?” Though he says it as if it’s a question, Mikasa knows the question is why she’s being so defensive about Eren talking to you.

“I think it’ll be fine,” Armin turns back to Eren, giving him a nervous grin, “Just go talk to her1 Annie’s here already anyway.”

Eren nods to himself, and then looks between Armin and Mikasa with a half grin that makes Mikasa want to melt into a puddle. “Wish me luck.”

As Eren makes his way across the room towards you, Mikasa can’t help but frown as she starts to compare herself to you. The outfit you’ve got on compliments your body so nicely, while her ripped black jeans and black tank top do nearly nothing for her own figure. You’re also pretty outgoing, while Mikasa can barely hold a conversation with anyone who she hasn’t known since high school without cringing at herself.

The glitter that frames your eyes is also a deep contrast from the black liner that is smudged around her own, your hair is nicely styled with a pretty silver butterfly clip holding some of it back while Mikasa’s hair is at an awkward stage of nearly outgrown because she hasn’t had a chance to go get it trimmed since coming back to school.

She also has bags starting to form under her eyes, the long nights of studying getting to her. Choosing pre-med as her major in an attempt to stay close to Eren starting to bite her in the ass since it comes a lot easier for him, so he doesn’t have to study as much.

Jean and Connie join Armin and Mikasa once they notice Annie in the kitchen. Connie walks up behind Armin and wraps his arm around him, getting close to his ear so he can give him a pep talk on how to woo Annie. Armin grumbles back that he doesn’t need his help, but when Sasha bounces over, she gets on Armin’s other side and tells him that Connie means well, just take his advice!

Jean stands awkwardly next to Mikasa, who has yet to take her eyes off of Eren. Her eyes finally avert to Jean when he starts talking.

“You look really nice tonight, Mikasa,” She has a slight frown on her face, but she mumbles back a small thanks as she bites her lip. She looks like she does every day, and she wants to tell him that, but instead she gives him a fake smile that she knows he can see right though and asks him if he wants to go find something to drink. He has an idea of what she’s trying to do but smiles softly and tells her to lead the way.

As the two of them make their way to the kitchen, Mikasa takes another glance towards your direction, stomach dropping even more when she takes note that Eren’s standing in front of you with his hands in his pockets.

Hitch had been going on about Marlo and how handsome she think he is for the past twenty minutes; Ymir is about five minutes away from taking Historia up to a bathroom, and you’ve had probably one too many solo cups full of vodka when Eren made his way to you, hands in his pockets and a boyish half smile on his face.

Hitch cuts herself off mid-sentence when she takes note of the six foot two man towering over the couch you occupy, eyebrows raised as she looks between the two of you with a sparkle in her eye once she realizes his eyes are strictly on you.

Your own eyes are wide with drunken curiosity as you look at him. “I know you!” Your voice makes Eren smile slightly as you continue, “You bumped into me in the kitchen, right?”

Eren winces and lets out an awkward laugh, “Uh, yeah. I just wanted to come over and apologize, I had meant to earlier but was a little distracted.”

His heart sputters when you let out a soft giggle, “Oh, don’t worry about it! Parties can get distracting. Though, I’d hate to think you’ve spent this whole party thinking about apologizing instead of actually enjoying yourself,”

Though there’s a teasing glint in the smile on your face and in your tone, your eyes tell him you’re genuinely worried he spent the whole party worrying about the fact that he ran into you.

“Oh, uh no. Well I mean I was distracted by you, but” His eyes widen once he realizes what he said, while Hitch has to hold back laughter at the man in front of her turning red.

“You were distracted by me?” Your tone is slightly disbelieving, and your eyes have a certain shine in them that he doesn’t quite recognize but the look on your face has his own flushing even more.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Ymir and Historia have pulled away from each other and make eye contact with Hitch, whose eyes are gleefully wide as she looks between them over your head. Historia is a little confused due to the amount of liquor she’s drank in such little, but Ymir catches on pretty quickly to what Hitch is getting at and reaches across Historia to tell you that they’re gonna head out and they’ll see you later. Historia looks confused and goes to protest but a quick look from Ymir has her quiet despite her confusion.

Waving bye to your friends, Hitch looks across the room and her eyes land on Marlo, she looks back at Eren with a coy smirk, “Keep an eye on her for me, yeah?” and before he can answer she’s up and gone.

You and Eren sit in a semi-awkward silence for a few moments before he speaks up, “Do you want another drink?” He cringes at his question and silently prays that you don’t think the worst, that he’s just trying to get you drunk.

“Actually, I think I’ve had enough to drink, but maybe we can go sit outside or something?” He nods, an excited look in his eyes that makes you smile brightly. He reaches his hand out to you, and you take it, smiling wider as he helps you up and puts an arm around your back to take you outside. Neither of you notice the heated glare in Mikasa’s eyes as she watches from the kitchen.

It’s a lot more comfortable outside, you’re able to breathe and hear a lot better. He sits next to you on the ground up against the rough brick of the house as the two of you spend nearly the next hour talking about whatever comes to mind.

Eren asks a lot about you, what you like, what your favorite food is, why your favorite song is your favorite song, asks about your major. He tells you that he thinks you look like an art major, which in turn you tell him you didn’t expect him to be in pre-med, which he laughs lightly as he nods in agreement, telling you it definitely wasn’t his first choice. You don’t ask him to elaborate, which he’s thankful for.

Mikasa frowns from her spot next to Sasha as Eren makes his way back over to the group, you shyly behind him with your fingers laced through his. Armin smiles and has to refrain from sending a thumbs up towards Eren once he notices you’re with him. Annie smiles, what Mikasa would consider her most genuine smile, and waves at you. Mikasa nearly forgot that the two of you used to be good friends at one point.

Mikasa tunes out the rest of the group as Eren explains that he’s gonna head out, you’re getting tired, and he wants to make sure you get home safe. He’s got that boyish smile on his face, and Mikasa watches how you’ve got a blinding grin on your own face, eyes not leaving him as he speaks to his friends.

Jean watches Mikasa’s eyes water slightly as Eren sticks his hand in your back pocket as the two of you walk away. Her watery eyes meeting his as she silently begs for him to make the pain go away.

εїз

Eren has you pinned up against the front door to his apartment before it can even slam shut behind you. Your chest pushed up against the door as his hands work their way up and down your sides under your shirt, teasing the underside of your breast as he grinds his erection into your ass as your back arches.

His left hand moves your hair to the side so he can suck on your neck while his right hand reaches for the button of your jeans, making quick work of getting them undone and slipping his hand into your panties. His middle finger makes quick work in circles on your clit, making you gasp in surprise and reach up with you right hand and grab at the back of his head, tangling your fingers his soft brown hair.

The light pull of your fingers causes him to groan and bite down on your neck, causing you to gasp in surprise.

He pulls his hand out of your pants and moves both hands to the hem of your jeans and begins to pull them down. His husky voice in your ear makes you moan out loud when he tells you how badly he wants to taste you.

His body follows his hands as he pulls your jeans down to your ankles, slapping your ass lightly before he spreads your cheeks so he can get a nice view of your cunt, and he groans when he sees how fucking wet you are.

His thumb finds your clit and he puts just the slightest bit of pressure, but somehow it’s enough to make you let out a soft moan of pleasure, causing him to smirk.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” You nod and moan louder as he puts more pressure, rubbing harsh circles as he leans forward and dips his tongue into you. He groans at your taste, and he takes his thumb away from your clit so he can use both hands to pull your body closer to his face.

“God you taste so fucking good,” His words make you blush, but he gives you no time to respond, his tongue finding its way back to your clenching hole.

“Ohmygod,” You can’t contain the gasp of pleasure that leaves you as your right hand reaches around to hold his head in place as he continues fucking his tongue in and out of you, hands gripping your hips tightly to keep you as close to his face as he possibly can, breathing be damned.

His tongue alternates between fucking your hole and licking at your clit. His left hand moves from your hip to your cunt, and he sticks two fingers inside you as he continues licking at your clit. He groans at your tightness around his fingers, that with the addition of the taste of you driving him insane.

“Er-eren!” You yelp out his name as his fingers make quick work of finding your g-spot, you feel him smirk against you once he feels the spongey spot. Fingering you faster, his mouth moves back to your clit, and he puckers his lips around it and begins to harshly suck on it.

The feeling is too much, you feel like you can’t breathe. His fingers repeatedly hitting your g-spot, and his mouth harshly sucking on your clit has you cumming before you even realize it.

“Eren, ah! Fuck, I-I’m cumming,” You moan out, trying to warn him so he can pull away if he wants. But he somehow manages to keep surprising you.

“That’s right baby, you fucking cum for me.” Curling his fingers slightly harder against your g-spot, his free hand grips your hip harder to hold you in place as your body starts to tremble as your orgasm washes over you. He doesn’t pull his fingers away until you’re nearly sobbing from the stimulation against your g-spot, and he slowly pulls his fingers out of your clenching hole.

He smirks as you gasp, one hand still clinging to his head while the other hold the trim by the door for dear life. Slightly leaning forward, he licks your cunt one last time in a harsh strip from your clit up, momentarily sneaking his tongue back in you one last time for good measure.

Pulling away from you, he stands back up, slowly pulling your underwear back up. Giving your ass a light tap, he bends back down and lifts your legs up one at a time at your knees to help you pull your jeans off of your ankles. Eren folds and lays them on the end table by the front door before he makes his way back over to you, who’s now turned around, face flushed and facing him with legs still slightly shaking.

He smiles at you once his hands find their place back on your hips, mouth meeting yours in a kiss that makes you gasp in surprise, but your arms quickly make their way around his neck. Licking your bottom lip, he lifts you enough to where you can wrap your legs around his waist so he can walk you to his room. His tongue works its way into your mouth, causing you to moan slightly around it as he continues kissing you until he reaches his room and sits you on the edge of the bed.

You look at him confused when he makes his way over to his closet, pulling out an old black band t-shirt. It’s faded, but well taken care of. Your eyebrows furrow when he hands it to you and makes his way to his dresser, pulling out a pair of grey sweatpants and changing into them, leaving the t-shirt he was wearing off.

“Did you not want to…” Your voice trails off as you look at him with furrowed brows as he makes his way back over to you, fighting hard to keep your eyes off of his naked chest. He crouches down so your eye level, and he frowns when he sees the slight insecurity swimming in your eyes.

Reaching a hand up, he caresses your face and rubs his thumb just under your eye before he lightly pulls your face to his, kissing you again. This kiss is much lighter than the previous one, softer, he’s being much gentler. When he pulls away you frown slightly, leaning forward for more but he stops you.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, trust me when I say I do want to. Like, very badly.” He huffs out a laugh through his nose, the furrow in your brow slightly deepening in a silent question, “But I also happen to enjoy you very much, and I’d like to take you out properly, ya know?” He blushes deeply as he says it, but the smile on your face brings a huge grin to his own.

Reaching forward, you wrap your arms back around him, pushing your face into his neck as a small sigh leaves your mouth, “I think you might be very good for me,” Eren hears you whisper as you nuzzle your face into his neck. Eren lets out a soft but genuine laugh as he pulls your body closer to his, hoping you’re right. Hoping he might just be good enough for you.

εїз

Mikasa looks around Jeans room, trying to stay as far away from him as possible in his full size bed, and she can’t help but wonder what you and Eren are doing right now.

Regret starts building deep in her gut as she realizes what she’s done with Jean will not only change the dynamic between the two of them, but also the fact that Armin is going to be so fucking disappointed in her once he realizes she only slept with Jean because she was upset Eren left with you.

Carefully crawling out of his bed, she quickly finds her phone and clothes before getting dressed and quietly leaving Jeans room.

Guilt is swirling in her stomach as she walks as quickly and quietly as she can out of his apartment and makes her way up a few flights of stairs to the one she shares with Armin and Eren.

She prays to herself that Armin and Annie decided to go back to Annie’s place, so they don’t have to see the disgusted look she has on her face. Disgust with herself, disgust with the fact that Jean let her use him, disgust with the fact that that the more she walks, the more she can feel Jean’s cum leaking out of her. Her disgust is quickly overcome by even more guilt as she unlocks the front door to the apartment.

Guilt is a terrible feeling, it’s nothing compared to the heartbreak she feels as she’s walking towards her room. Because the last thing she expected when she walked past the bathroom was to see Eren holding you up on the counter by the sink as he attempts to wipe the glitter off of your eyes.

He’s got that stupid smile on his face as he whispers for you to keep your eyes shut, he’s almost done. He holds your head at the nape of your neck gently with one hand while the other makes work of carefully rubbing your eye.

You’re mumbling incoherently, sleep lacing your voice as you hold your arms around his neck, head following wherever his hand guides it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eren notices Mikasa’s disheveled appearance, while he doesn’t make a comment one it, she notices the way he raises his eyebrow in surprise.

She wishes she could say something to defend herself, but her gaze is too caught on you. The way he holds you tenderly makes her stomach turn, he’s so careful and gentle as he caresses your face, it makes her frown in envy.

“We’re almost done, you can have the bathroom in a minute,” Eren tells her softly, and she hates that she knows his soft words aren’t for her benefit but your own. She watches as he does a quick glance over your face one last time before he throws away the makeup wipes from a brand she didn’t recognize, watches as he gently lifts you at your hips to wrap your legs around his waist and how your face instantly makes its way to his neck in an almost natural way.

“Night, Mikasa,” Eren whispers and smiles when he hears you mumble a soft night of your own. “Good night, Eren,” Her voice isn’t above a whisper either, so he doesn’t hear her voice crack as he shuts his bedroom door, leaving her in the soft yellow glow of the bathroom light, alone.

Despite all the negative and harsh thoughts running through her mind, all she can focus on is the fact that Eren had let you wear his favorite shirt.

εїз

Eren’s been awake for nearly fifteen minute, he knows he should probably wake you up too. He has a class in a little over an hour, and if he waits too much longer to get up, Mikasa will come to get him like she always does when he sleeps in.

But he can’t bring himself to care, not when you’re lying next to him making that old ass ‘the cure’ t-shirt look as good as you currently are.

He can’t help but admire you. You just look so perfect.

“You’re staring.” Eren flinches in surprise at your words, not realizing that you’ve already woken up.

“I’m gazing,” You peek an eye open at his words, a half-smile making its way onto your face at his cheesiness.

“It’s creepy.” He scoffs at you, leaning his face so close to your own that your noses are touching. “I think it’s pretty romantic.”

A hum leaves you as your raise your eyebrows at him, eyes closing slightly as you lean closer to him, lips nearly touching his, “Romantic you say?”

He sighs, nodding as his eyes refuse to leave yours, “Definitely romantic.”

Just as he’s about to lean in to seal the deal, a loud knock at his door causes the two of you to pull away from each other, “Eren, get up. We have class in a little more than an hour. I will not be late again to one of Hange’s classes because of you.”

He groans, head falling right next to your shoulder, “Yeah. Thanks, Mikasa,”

A laugh leaves your mouth, causing Eren to grin, “What time is it anyway?”

Eren reaches for his phone, clicking it on, “9:15,”

You groan loudly in despair. “I have class at 10:30,” The pout on your face almost has Eren asking if you want to skip and go get breakfast. Almost. But when you reach for your phone and sit up he decides against it.

He watches you scroll through your phone for a minute, not peeking at whatever you’re doing so he doesn’t seem like a creep. You’ve still got a little bit of glitter on your face from last night, and Eren inwardly cringes at the fact that he couldn’t get all of it off.

He likes the way you look in his bed, not to get ahead of himself but he definitely thinks that waking up with you a few days a week is something he could get used to.

Hopefully, next time you guys will have time to go get breakfast though, or maybe if it’s a weekend, you could get brunch.

Eren’s thoughts leave his mind when you look back over at him, a soft smile on your face, “Any chance I can get you to give me a ride home on your way to campus?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He tries not to sound too excited at the thought of you sitting in his passenger seat. You mumble out a soft thank you as you watch him get out of bed and make his way towards his closet, leaning your head in the palm of your hand as you admire the way his back muscles move and flex when he pulls a black t-shirt over his head.

“What class do you have this morning?” He asks, with genuine curiosity, you look away to give him some sort of privacy as he takes off his sweatpants and underwear so he can put on a pair of dark wash jeans and new briefs.

“Oh, um, it’s an advanced sketching class. Nothing special.” Running your fingers through your hair, you stand up and look around his room for your jeans.

Eren turns back around as he’s buttoning his pants up, smiling when he finds you standing awkwardly without pants on. “Your pants are in the living room,”

A half-grin is on your lips when you make eye contact with him and nod. “Right, I forgot.”

“Forgot I ate you up against my front door last night?” He’s cheeky, and it makes your body heat up as you bite your lip to stop a smile from showing you enjoy his teasing. Reaching over, you lightly slap his arm and mumble for him to get his head out of the gutter, to which he gives you a cheeky smile and a peck on the cheek in relation.

Mikasa is sitting on the couch in the living room when the two of you walk out, and she has to fight looking at you too long once she notices you still aren’t wearing pants. Just that stupid t-shirt that Eren’s been attached to ever since he found it at some local thrift store when they were fourteen.

You smile and send her a small wave, getting a blank look in return that makes you frown slightly. Eren appears in front of you, holding your jeans with that same boyish grin on his face. “I think your shoes are still in my car,” A small okay leave your mouth as your slide your jeans on, not really caring for modesty at the moment since everyone in the room has already seen you without pants on.

Eren holds your phone and keys out to you, “I, uh, couldn’t find your shirt or the clip you had in your hair last night.” As he scratches the back of his neck, you have to refrain from ogling his biceps as they flex. “Oh, uh, that’s okay,”

Before either of you can say anything else, Mikasa clears her throat, “I hate to interrupt, but we have a class to get to.”

Eren gives her a weird look at the tone she uses and the look she’s giving you. “Actually, we’re taking a detour. We’re going to drop her off at her place first.”

She frowns and looks over you under her nose now that she’s standing, before giving him another look, “Eren, we seriously can’t be late again.”

You finally decide to speak up, “I can always get an uber-“

“I think that would be for the best.” “Absolutely not!”

You look awkwardly between the two of them as they glare at each other, feeling extremely out of place. You give Eren an uncomfortable look, “Really, I can find my own way home,”

Eren lets out a scoff, his eyes softening as he looks at you again, “It’s really not a big deal. And if she has such a problem with it, she can take a bus.”

Mikasa lets out a noise of disbelief grumbling a whatever, sending you a sharp glare as she storms to her room to grab her bag.

She can’t fucking believe him, how dare he? She’s been nothing but good to him for twenty-two years and this is what she gets in return? Over some random girl who didn’t even know his fucking name twenty-four hours ago?

The car ride to your apartment from theirs consists of an extremely awkward fourteen minutes, not that you were counting. Mikasa had sent you another intense glare when you went to sit in the front, practically forcing you to sit in the back and ignored you the whole time, talking over you anytime you tried to respond when Eren spoke to you.

You have to refrain from letting a huge sigh of relief leave you once the car stops in front of your building. Eagerly getting out of the car, you don’t even notice Eren quickly stumbling out of the driver’s seat as he tries to catch up with you.

“Hey! Hey, wait up!” His voice makes you halt your steps, turning around to look at him. “I’m really sorry about you, I don’t think she had a great night last night and-”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Eren,” You don’t mean to interrupt, but he really doesn’t owe you any sort of explanation.

Slightly frowning he responds, “Well, I know. I, I just had a really, really good time last night, and I didn’t want to end things on a bad note or before I can ask for your number.”

“You could’ve just asked,” A light laugh leaves you at his more detailed than explanation, “I just meant you don’t have to apologize for your friend. Everyone has bad nights sometimes, and having someone throw of your routine can make stuff like that even worse.”

“Oh,” He laughs awkwardly as you hold out your hand for him to give you his phone. He watches with enthusiasm as you punch in your number before calling yourself, so you have his number.

“Text me later! I’d stay and talk more, but I need to go change for class and I think if you stay any longer, Mikasa may just glare a hole in my skull.” You press your lips against his cheek softly before you turn around to enter your building, “See ya later, Eren.”

His whole face is burning up by the time he gets in the car, too engrossed in what just happened to even notice that Mikasa has a deep scowl painting her features.

His phone buzzes, pulling it out he sees it’s a text from you. A fond smile is on his face when he sees it’s a mirror selfie of you in his t-shirt with a half grin on what shows of your face. For my contact photo <3

“Are we going to class or what?” Mikasa grits out with a hateful tone, snapping him out of his trance.

“Oh, right.” He awkwardly coughs out as he starts the twenty minute drive to campus. Very, uncomfortably, awkward twenty minutes.

εїз

Walking out of your sketching class, you’re pleasantly surprised to find Eren standing there waiting for you with, what you assume is, an iced coffee in his hand. Once he notices you, a huge smile appears on his face.

“Hey!” Your face heats as he hands you the drink enthusiastically, “Uh, Hi!” You look between him and the drink with curious eyes, causing him to blush as you take it.

“Oh, right. It’s an iced chai, with oat milk. I had Armin make it, he said you seemed like the type to like chai, but if you don’t like it then I can take you and get you something else.”

Your eyes don’t leave his face as he goes on about how Armin said oat milk was definitely a safe choice, because in case you have a dairy allergy, he firmly believes it superior non-dairy milk. Eren continues rambling for a few minutes about how he has no idea about the differences between almond and oat milk before he finds himself lost in your eyes that seem lost in his.

Smiling, you reach your free hand and grab his own, “I love oat milk. And, I have to agree with Armin, it is the superior non-dairy milk.”

Relief washes over his features as he smiles brightly at you, eyes traveling over you as he takes in your outfit change from this morning. You’ve chosen pink again today, and he can’t deny that it looks great on you, though he wishes you had kept on his shirt instead of going with the pink jeans with the pink corduroy jacket over a cropped white tank top you’ve chosen today.

You clutch your black tote bag closer to you as you sip the drink happily, grinning at Eren as you bite on the straw.

He smiles softly and clears his throat, “Anyway, I had a question for you.”

You quirk a brow, nodding for him to continue, “There’s this old theatre in town, they play lots of older films. They’re playing Rear Window on Friday at 7:30. Last night you mentioned you like older movies, so,” he sticks his hands in his pockets, biting his lip and glancing up at you, green eyes shining.

Your face heats up even more if possible, “Are you asking me out?” You pray his answer is yes.

“I mean, yeah! But, like, only if you want, though,” He’s met with a lip bite as you fight back yet another grin.

Despite wanting to say yes, you feel the slight need to be cautious. “I would love to go see Rear Window with you, but-”

Eren has to fight the frown that begs to take over his features at your words as you continue. “I just got out of a relationship. The only relationship I have ever been in, actually. And, well it wasn’t exactly a great relationship,”

Looking up at him you give him a small smile, “I would love to go out with you Eren, on a date. But do you think we could maybe, I don’t know, just hang out for a little bit? Take things slow?”

Eren tries not to look disappointed, because he does understand and he’s not disappointed, more bummed than anything honestly. But, he’s spent a whole semester pining over you, what’s a little longer?

“Absolutely!” The relief in your eyes makes whatever disappointment that was trying to creep in disappear completely.

Yeah, he absolutely can take things slow. No problem at all, right?

Can you take things slow, though? Probably not.

A comfortable silence develops between the two of you as you leave the fine arts building and head towards the parking lot to the south of it, “Do you want to get lunch with me and my friends tomorrow? I can pick you up around 1?”

Looking at him, you smile and nod, “Yeah, but are you sure no one will mind?”

Neither of you need to say anything to know you’re referring to Mikasa and her behavior towards you this morning. His face falls slightly at the thought of you not wanting to meet or hang out with his friends just because she was acting out of character this morning.

“Of course not!” It rushes out before he can control it. “If you’re worried about Mikasa, she had just had a bad night last night, like I was telling you earlier. It had absolutely nothing to do with you!”

You bite your lip, still unsure as you two come to a stop next to your car. Looking up at him, you sigh internally when you see his green eyes are already staring deeply at you, as if he’s begging you to say yes.

Despite a nagging feeling deep in your stomach, one telling you not to give in, especially so soon, a small voice in your head tells you that this, that he, could be good for you.

A soft smile creeps onto your glossy lips as you nod, telling him you’d be happy to go with him to lunch with his friends.

The smile the breaks out on his face makes all your negative thoughts disappear.

This will be a good thing, worst case, you just don’t click with his friends. He seems to like you plenty well already, and you like to think you’re likeable, surely his friends will, at the very least, get along with you.

#fic: ioblwbbrbig #eren yaeger x reader #eren x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager smut #eren yaeger smut #aot x reader #aot smut #eren jeager x you #eren jaeger fluff #eren yaeger fluff #aot fluff #she's here #*finally lol*#i hope you guys enjoy her!

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 11 months

Text

Permission

Pairing: Dark Rafe Cameron x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: If Rafe doesn’t want you to go somewhere, that’s what you should do. Except you don’t.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relation; Domestic Violence/Abuse

Please, reblog and give me feedback.

“She’s not going.”

You and Sarah groan at the same time, eyes flicking to the door where Rafe stands.

“Stop snooping, Rafe! And get out of my room.” Sarah throws a pillow at her brother but he barely pays attention to her, his stare directed at you.

You cross your arms, annoyed.

“What?”

His eyebrows raise at your snappy reaction and he puts his hands on the pockets, his hair messy.

“I said that you are not going.” he repeats, voice layed with determination.

Giving Sarah a small apologetic smile, you leave her room, not bothering to look at Rafe as you head for his room. Plopping onto his bed, you reach for your phone but as soon as you touch it, Rafe snatches it.

“Can you stop being so annoying?” you glare at your boyfriend, but he only smirks.

You curse as Rafe takes the phone away from your reach.

“Say you’re not going.” he insists. “Say it and I’ll give it back.”

You throw your hands in the air.

“Why are you being so pushy about it? What’s wrong with going to a party?”

He squints his eyes at you and you can already guess what’s coming.

“It’s not just some party, is it? It’s a fucking Pogue party, filled with them.” you can almost taste the disgust in Rafe’s words, his lips curling downwards.

“...and I don’t want you near Sarah’s friends. They’re bad news. Especially that John B guy … and JJ.”

“Well, that’s not your decision to make, babe.” You push yourself off the bed, but he grabs your arm, swirling you towards the bed. You squeal, falling down and you’re about to yell at him when his hand wraps around your neck.

Your hand instantly claws at it, the increasing pressure making you feel uncomfortable. Rafe’s lips only curl into a half-smile, dodging your attempts to knee him.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, yeah, baby?” his tone darkens as he looms over you “You’re not going to that stupid party. Understood?”

You feel the tears burning in your eyes as you frantically nod, a shaken breath escaping your lips when Rafe releases your throat.

Touching the sensitive skin, you look up at Rafe, an unbothered expression glued to his face as he looks at you. He throws your phone to the bed, winking at you.

“See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?”

"Oh shit.”

You follow Pope’s eyes and turn around. Your body freezes on the spot, eyes rounding up as you catch the sight of Rafe exiting his truck, his head moving as he looks around, a pissed off look plastered on his face.

You’re screwed.

“Isn’t that your boy, Rafe? What the hell is he doing here?” Pope asks and you dive, hiding behind his figure. Rafe was starting to create a ruckus shouting your name, Topper and Kelce with him.

Their presence makes you nervous and you decide it’s time to skip the party before anything more dramatic happens.

“You know what, I think I’m just gonna head home and-” you yelp as your arm is roughly pulled.

You barely have time to say anything before you’re being dragged away and you wouldn’t even have to look to know that it’s Rafe.

“Rafe, stop! You’re hurting me!” your pleas don’t stop Rafe, all the bystanders shocked yet no one daring to intervene, moving away from you.

You trip on your own feet and end up colliding against Rafe’s body. You whine, pleading with him to slow down but your boyfriend seems to have gone mad.

He pushes you inside his truck without a word and as he walks to the drivers side, you look through the window, catching Sarah and JJ heading your way. You shake your head at them, they’re too far and you doubt that Rafe would enjoy them interfering.

The truck starts and soon you’re on the road, small sniffles from you filling the space.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Rafe’s fingers tighten around the wheel, turning white.

“I told you not to go to the party, didn’t I?” he starts “If you fucking listened to me, then this wouldn’t have happened. You only have yourself to blame.”

You bury your nails in your bare thigh, despair starting to hit you. Without a second thought, you grab the handle, forgetting about the moving car.

It doesn’t work, Rafe quickly grabbing your hair, aggressively tugging you back inside. Both of you fight and you scratch his hand, crying out.

“Fucking hell, Y/N.”

The car stops, and you barely have time to process what was going on before your cheek implodes with pain, your face turned to the side with the impact. The bruising grip hurting your scalp as he uses it to recline your face.

He closes in, his features molding a scowl.

“I don’t think you fucking understand. I say, you obey. As simple as that.” he tugs on your hair, a reminder of his power over you and a tear slips from your eye.

“And I swear to god that if you push it one more time, baby, I’m gonna fucking destroy this pretty face of yours.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #dark!obx #dark obx #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron x reader #tw: dark content #tw: toxic relationships #rafe cameron x reader #tw: manipulation #dark!fic #dark fic #tw: yandere #yandere x reader #tw: stalking #obx imagine #obx x reader #tw: abuse

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months

Text

the slow night

buttercup, chapter six

a/n: he a hoe and I love him. thank you and goodnight.

summary: as the peck blossomed into something much more ravenous, a soft laugh began to billow out of you, “Mr. Murdock,” you tilted your head back as his lips began to flutter down your neck, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you came over here to seduce me.”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, the black daredevil suit, kissing, semi public sex (at the bakery), clothed sex, dirty talk, hair pulling, oral, protected sex, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms

word count: 3244

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Leaning against the doorway to the small bakery bathroom, you watched Walter’s tongue poke out the side of his mouth as he flicked glittery stripes of eyeliner over his lids.

“You sure you’re okay with closing up on your own tonight?” you heard Howard ask you as he sat on a low stool some space behind you, bending down to tie his shoes.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you smiled, glancing back over your shoulder at him, “you two deserve a night off.”

Staring out into space, your uncle leaned his tattooed forearms on his robust thighs a moment as he murmured, “you know, I don’t even remember the last time we went out…” casting a glance past you at the bald man in front of the mirror, Howard raised his voice, “honey, did you find out what queens are performing tonight?”

Popping the lid back on the pencil, the former club kid tilted his head approvingly in the reflection, “I think Holly Day still works Friday nights there, but other than that I have no idea,” he exited the bathroom, only to press a small peck to your cheek as he slid passed.

“Urgh,” you groaned with a smile, letting your inner child temporarily show as you dragged the back of your palm over the faint lipstick stain, “well, have fun you two!”

“Night, night, cupcake,” Howard blew you a few brief kisses as the pair scurried out of the shop, “don’t forget to feed the sourdough starter, oh! And mix a new batch of ginger maple cookies, portion them out and pop them in the freezing–, also–”

“Howard,” you interrupted him with a smile just as Walter pulled open the back door for them to exit, “I know what I need to do. I’ve done this countless of times before, I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Alright,” he exhaled slowly.

“If it’ll help, I can send you a picture of the place before I lock up.”

A relieved smile then warmed up your uncle’s features, “thank you, sweetie.”

Half yanking his husband out of the door, Walter offered you one last wave, “bye, Y/n!” before the solid door slammed shut behind them.

Bending down, you put the last one of the wide and clean bowls away on the bottom shelf of the metal storage system in the corner of the kitchen.

The skirt of your dress swooshed gently around your legs as you straightened back up, like a summer breeze, fluttering against your skin. Reaching for a clean cloth, you briefly ran it under the tap before wiping down the aftermath beside the sink following your dance with the dishes. One of the tiny puddles of splashed water soaked your apron as you leaned over the steel table to reach deeper, turning it a darker shade of brown right over your belly button.

Just then, from out of nowhere, “hi,” the voice of your neighbour echoed throughout the kitchen, thoroughly startling you and causing the rag to drop from your grasp.

“Ah!” you jumped, haven not even heard the back door creak open, “Matthew!” pressing a soothing palm to your chest as you spun around, a light giggle flowed from your lips, “oh my god, you scared the crap out of me!”

“Sorry,” he chuckled, leisurely leaning against the far counter close to the back exit.

You already knew he’d be out on patrol tonight, but actually seeing him stand there before you was something else entirely. The black suit clung tight to his physic, and now that grave injuries no longer distracted and adorned his visage, the vision of the obsidian vigilante that stood in front of you proficiently provided you with a sinful shiver that trickled down your spine.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, attempting to brush off the tingle that bloomed between your thighs.

A bold smirk bloomed on his lips, visible below the dark mask, as he slowly stepped closer to you, “it’s a slow night,” gently tugging his gloves off and tossing them to the table he passed, an action you didn’t expect to find as seductive as you evidently did, goosebumps now blossoming all along your arms.

“A slow night, huh?” you chuckled, tilting your chin as he neared.

“And I was in the area,” he cocked his head as his hands settled on either side of your frame, leaning against the counter behind you.

“How convenient,” you smiled, his light-hearted explanations not convincing you in the slightest. Matt’s fingers then found your chin, tilting it further up as he bent down to brush his lips against your own. Your knees nearly buckled as you felt yourself swiftly sink into the intoxicating sensation, your arms gliding up and over the black fabric that hugged him, till they were locked around his neck. As the peck blossomed into something much more ravenous, a soft laugh began to billow out of you, “Mr. Murdock,” you tilted your head back as his lips began to flutter down your neck, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you came over here to seduce me.”

Mirroring your own chuckle, he playfully tested, “and what if I am, huh?”

“Wait, really?” you giggled, your hands seized each side of his face and pulled him back a bit as his hot mouth worked wonders at making you lose your train of thought, “you sure you weren’t just hungry or something?”

“Hm,” his palms slid up to cup over yours as he cheekily said, “something, yeah…” peeling your fingers off of his stubbly cheeks, he placed a few pecks in your open palms, “I would fucking love a taste of something sweet.”

Tearing your gaze away from his onyx visage, you briefly cast a glance around the space, “uhm, I don’t really know what’s left over from today, but there might be someth–”

“Nuh-uh, that’s not the kinda treat I was thinking of,” he smirked brightly as he wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you in closer to his warmth as his fingers sneaked under the apron’s knot.

Finally reading his obvious subtext, “o-oh,” you couldn’t help but giggle as he then leaned down to kiss you again, swallowing your laugh till it melted away into a low moan that vibrated against his lavish tongue.

Scrambling closer, you damn nearly climbed him like a tree with how desperately you clawed at his mass. When his touch slid further down your frame and curved around your ass, he briefly offered you a squeeze that you swore soared all the way to the sensitive nerve endings in your throbbing clit, before he scooped you up and sat you down on the steel countertop. As he slotted his width in between your parted thighs, his teeth playfully caught your bottom lip.

Fluttering your fingers further up, you cupped the sides of his face as the heated make-out slowly began to ease. The tips of your touch grazed the bottom of his black mask as you gently pulled back.

Blinking back at him through your lashes, your digits ghosted over the material as you uttered, “…can I take this off?”

A faint smile tugged at his lips as he softly nodded, “mhm,” and let you peel the charcoal mask off of him. Letting it drop to the table right beside where you sat, you gazed back at him for a moment, his chocolate eyes gently crinkled up in bliss as you briefly traced a light caress over a few of his newly revealed features before you sealed your lips with his once more.

Undoubtedly, your panties must have clung to your core at this point from how soaked they felt.

Abruptly, Matt’s soft lips suddenly strayed from yours. Fluttering your gaze open, a giggle bubbled out of your lungs as you saw him slowly sink down to the tile floor beneath you.

“Matty,” you beamed, your touch straying from his cheek as he settled down on his knees.

Slowly raising a sliver of your hemline up to your knees, his lips grazed against your shin and leisurely roamed further north.

Burying your fingers in the fabric of your dress, you gently began to hike it up till it, and the brown apron, bunched above your hips.

Your breathing was ragged, and your mouth hung agape when his kisses neared your centre. One of his warm palms stayed planted on your inner thigh after he’d split your legs further to grant himself better access as you sat there, nearly dangling on the edge.

A shiver ran through you when he placed a brief kiss to the soaked spot soddening your underwear, before his reach extended and hooked the cotton to the side, a sting of your slick clung momentarily to the fabric before snapping back against your core.

“Fuck,” he let out a gravelly groan and you felt his breath tickle your cunt before his hand, the one not clutching your soaked panties, curled around your frame and tugged you towards him, closing the minuscule distance between his zealous mouth and your glistening centre.

Parting your petals with dizzying laps, Matt let out a moan as he made out with your pussy, the tickling vibrations caused your thighs to tremble beside his head.

“God…” spellbound, he pulled back for but a second, “your pussy tastes like fucking heaven,” before he tilted his chin and enraptured your clit, fervently sucking down on it in a way that made your eyes roll in your skull.

“Oh my god, I–, I–…” you panted, sensing yourself race towards the finish line, but even with how incredible his tongue made you feel, deep down within you rumbled a feral feeling for more. As your pelvis bucked lightly against his efforts, you gasped, “Matt… get up…” unsure if you’d ever felt so empty in your entire life, “get up right fucking now.” When he rose, the lower part of his face glinting with your want, he didn’t get a chance to say anything before you yanked him by his shirt and crashed your lips against his. With the intoxicating taste of yourself lingering on your mouth, your heavy breath fanned across his face as you desperately uttered, “in the corner behind you, on the hook beside where my coat is, my bag, the little front pocket.”

Breathlessly, his expression fogged up in soft puzzlement, “what?”

“I went to the drugstore earlier,” you said, hoping that you wouldn’t have to spell it out for him.

It actually took him a second for him to realise what you were talking about, “oh,” as if he hadn’t hoped or expected anything more than what you’d just let him do. Crossing the room in mere moments, a playful chuckle rumbled from his chest as he fished out the box of condoms, “this is a big pack… were you planning on seducing me?”

Rolling your eyes, you giggled, “oh, shut up and get back here.”

As soon as he was back in your reach, your fingers began to fiddle with his belt, impatiently freeing him as you virtually drooled seeing the imprint of his cock strain against the dark fabric of his pants.

“Put it on, please, please, I wanna feel you so bad,” you begged as he ripped the foil packet open.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, please,” your hungry eyes were glued to his breath-taking fist as he offered himself a brief pump before he hastily rolled the condom on, “Matt, if you don’t fuck me right now then I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

Sighs flowed from the both of you in unison when Matt sank into your drooling cunt. You almost felt drunk, that’s how wound up you’d gotten.

“Oh, you feel so fucking good,” Matt exhaled, letting his forehead melt against your own as he rolled his hips, getting impossibly deep before drawing back a bit and finding a rhythm that caused your legs to be like crickets, shakily rubbing against either side of his frame as fucked you, “sweetheart–, christ… you’re about to cum, aren’t you?” his lips tilted up into a smirk.

“D-don’t you dare stop,” you panted, clawing needily against his torso.

“I won’t, I promise,” he then sank a hand down between your frames to tickle your puffy pearl, “I could do this all day, baby.”

You collapsed back on your elbows when your pussy fluttered around him and a lewd cry accompanied the high.

Panting against the cool table, you hazily blinked up at him as he then uttered in the deepest sincerity.

“God, I'm crazy about you, Y/n,” his expression was soft and dreamlike, “you know that?”

Your eyes went wide a moment, entirely forgetting how to fill your aching lungs, “really?” you then regained control rather gracelessly as you nearly coughed, “sorry... I forgot how to breathe for a second there,” the grin that bloomed on your lips nearly hurt.

Snatching one of your hands up in his, he weaved his fingers with your own, “you okay?”

“Yeah… I’m amazing…” you gazed up at him, “I’m also completely and utterly wild about you,” you then tugged on his hand, drawing him down enough for your lips to graze against his.

His hips instinctively rolled as your tongue flicked across his own, grinding briefly into your sensitivity before he noticed and went back to being completely still within you.

But when your sloppy kiss then parted, you tilted your own hips a bit, slowly fucking yourself shallowly on his cock. As he gently offered you a tender thrust, gradually pulling out of your clinging cunt just a tad, you glanced down between the shy space betwixt you and spotted the ring of your cream that stained the base of his dick.

“Fucking hell,” you whimpered as he straightened his spine back out and brought the back of your palm up to his lips, “I don’t get how I bounce back so quickly with you. It’s like you just have to smile and then I’m just–, oh my god!” you moaned as he changed his angle, brushing directly against a spot that sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

“Oh, you like that? Right there?” he repeated the same lavish motion.

“Y-yes–,” with your interlocked fingers, he then pulled you back up to a sitting position, the shift leaving you breathless, “fuck. You feel so good right now,” his hand let go of yours as it then snaked around your back, his burly forearm supporting your spine as the fingers reached up to weave within your hair, gently scraping his short nails over the nape of your neck.

Drawing you in even closer, your chest pressed against his as he kissed your cheek sweetly while he kept his pace meticulous and precise.

Hugging onto his broad shoulders, your head dropped down to rest against one of them as you then muttered, “harder,” your gaze hazy on the kitchen behind him before your eyes fluttered shut. When he then snapped his hips forward a little more electrically, you weakly repeated in his ear, “harder.”

Slamming into your needy cunt so fiercely that the sound of your skin colliding echoed off the tile walls and a bit of drool began to stain his dark shirt as your cheek stayed smooshed against his width.

“That it?” he growled silkily, “huh?” but when you couldn’t form any coherent words within the mess of moans that flowed from your lips, you didn’t have to see his face to know the grin that bloomed on his face, “aw, it’s alright, sweetheart,” his grip tightened in your hair, “you’re doing so good for me,” tugging intoxicatingly right at the roots, “just relax… that’s it… good girl…”

Keeping his pace rough, he lavishly slid out of you till just his bulbous tip plugged you up, before ramming his cock back in so feverishly that you could scarcely breathe at all, just tremble in his embrace, listening to the pure filth that he murmured in your ear, till you both tumbled over the edge.

With his spent girth nuzzled against your tender pussy, faint hums of contentment flowed from your lungs as Matt gently stroked your hair, his other arm wrapped around you as well as he kept your sluggish frame close to his long after you’d both regained your breaths.

As your fingers disappeared below his neckline and softly rubbed against the warm skin, your voice eventually found his ear, “okay, so I know that you didn’t come in here for a late-night snack,” the corners of your lips tilted upwards, “but now I’m kinda hungry.”

With a gentle chuckle rumbling within his chest, he briskly tugged himself away and untangled himself from you, “one second,” his lips pressed against your hairline before you saw him turn around and wander out of the kitchen.

As you watched him disappear into the front of the bakery, you tugged your panties back over your mess and pushed your dress back down, “oh, I'm not sure if there’s anything left out there–”

“Do you want a raisin bun or a very seedy one?” he asked and your brows flew up as you still hadn’t gotten used to how perceptive his heightened senses let him be.

“Oh, uhm,” you blinked, completely blown away, “raisin.”

Appearing before you once more, he handed you the speckled bun, “here.”

Smiling adoringly back at him, “thank you,” you sank your teeth into the pillowy treat before offering him a small bite, which he gladly accepted as a tender laugh rolled out of him. When you had consumed the sweet bun, a soft yawn promptly flowed out of you, “fuck,” his palms were warm at your waist as your arms briefly curled up beside your head, “I can’t wait to get back home and sleep.”

“How much do you have left to do till you can lock up?”

“Not too much,” your hands dropped back down and rested atop of his for a moment, “how about you? How long do you think you’ll be out there?”

“Probably not too much longer either,” his head tilted gently before he leaned back in.

“Alright,” you smiled, tenderly pressing your lips to his before he snatched up the discarded mask and tugged it back over his features. As his feet began to carry him towards the exit, he paused as soon as you said, “hey Matt?”

“Yeah?” the vigilante twisted back to face you.

A bubble of nerves suddenly fluttered in your belly as you uttered, “when you get back tonight, could you maybe–, uhm… or maybe I could–…”

Swiftly getting at what you were trying to convey, Matt simply marched right back to where you sat and pulled you in for a kiss. Cradling your cheeks a moment longer as he slowly pulled back, he smiled, “there’s a spare key to my place behind the radiator in the hallway.”

Gazing back at him, you uttered, “okay,” feeling like you were floating on a cloud.

“I'll try not to get home too late,” he breathed, pressing his lips to yours one last time before he backed up again.

Calling after him, “be safe!” he stopped on the threshold of the back door for a second, silhouetted by the dark city as he flashed you a grin before he disappeared into the night, leaving you in the bakery alone, feet dangling off the table as a bright smile tenaciously lit up your face.

#lea’s writing #buttercup series #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x fem!reader smut #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock series #matthew murdock x reader #matthew murdock smut #marvel smut #matt murdock fluff #daredevil smut

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duuhrayliegh · 21 days

Text

equal and opposite (consequences, pt. 2)

a/n: first of all, yall really showed out with the comments and reblogs on the first part of this so THANK YOU SO MUCH like i haven't written anything that i felt was good in months so to have such an overwhelmingly positive response to that post felt amazing!!!!

if you haven’t read part one, i highly recommend checking that out first!!!!

anyway, i hadn't originally intended for this to go anywhere else, but as i've said before bartender!bucky & peanut just wouldn't go away so here we are!!! i hope this lives up to the expectations and if we want more PLEASE LET ME KNOW I LIVE TO PLEASE

“Can you please just sit down? I don’t understand what’s happening to us!”

“That’s the problem!”

He throws his hands above his head out of exasperation. They land on his hips as their new resting place and he levels you with a frustrated glare. A glare. Apparently, you’re not worth the energy it takes to filter the emotions from his tone or expressions. That luxury must be saved for his plethora of mistresses.

“You don’t understand me anymore!”

“Understand you?”

Going home has become harder and harder. Despite desperately wanting to fix your marriage, it seems your efforts might have been in vain. No matter how hard you try, your husband has made every effort to avoid having a real conversation with you. To say you’re at your wit's end would be generous.

“Yes! Coming home to you is too stressful for me. I’m in the office all week and then I come home to a wife who doesn’t put in any effort to make herself desirable for me.”

Your jaw dropped, as did the wooden spoon in your hand. His words float through your head on repeat. That voice you used to love, the same voice that vowed to always love and cherish you in his wedding vows. Now, you’re cooking for a man you don’t know.

“Then why stay with me? If I’m so clearly not what you want, why stay?”

There’s a drawn out silence that is accompanied by softly heaving breaths and the simmering pot of homemade spaghetti sauce.

“You’re what I want in a wife. You just don’t understand my needs in the way that Shelia does.”

Your blood boils. Shelia—the latest girlfriend in a string of girlfriends. How dare he? You turn to the stove and begin clicking everything off. You fume while gathering your purse and keys to a home that you no longer feel welcome in.

“This is why I didn’t want to get into this. You’re too emotional and I knew you’d play the victim whenever I’m suffering too!”

You roll your eyes, refusing to engage because you’ll only hurt yourself more. Instead, you pry the door open and slam it shut before trekking off down the hallway.

You don’t have a plan, all you know is that you need to get out. You’re lucky that you were wearing a hoodie and jeans whenever you started getting into it with John. It’s not the first time that you had to get out, so you’ve learned over the past few months.

Wind whips against your cheeks when you exit your apartment building. You pull your hood over your head and start walking aimlessly. You reach for your phone and dial the first number you think of.

You never stop walking, street lamps lighting the sidewalk with a pale yellow light. There’s an irritating sting starting behind your eyes that you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t have to listen to the trilling of the phone line for long before it’s interrupted.

“Commando’s. How can I help you?”

The music in the bar is loud enough that you can clearly make out Steve’s divorced dad rock playlist. A rush of relief shoots down your spine and you breathe a sigh while enjoying the subtle ambiance through your phone speaker.

“Hello?”

It’s only then that you realize you’ve been on the phone for the past thirty seconds without saying anything.

“Bucky?”

“Peanut?”

“Hi, uh--I didn't have your number and I didn't know who else to call."

"Hang on, Peanut. I'm here, hang on." Suddenly the music is reduced to a bouncing bass line. "Are you okay?"

You continue walking, breathing in the stale air of the city as you debate your answer. For the most part, sure, you're okay. You’re not physically harmed in any way, just a deep emotional hurt that persists through the stark cold of the air around you. But if someone looked twice, or you spend more than half a second around someone you're comfortable with, that answer wouldn’t hold water.

"The wheels, Peanut, I can hear them. I need you to answer me. Are you okay?"

Bucky's voice is soft and grounding. Your heartbeat starts to match the steady baseline of the bar's music.

"I'm okay?"

Bucky's soft laugh echoes through the phone speaker, "That sounded like a question more than an answer, Peanut." He then pauses and sighs, "What did he do now?"

You suck in a sharp breath, debating on how to answer his question. The lead weight that had previously settled in your stomach begins to lessen as you hear Bucky’s voice.

On the one hand, Bucky has become the person you feel the most comfortable with. You don't have anyone close to you in the city because you moved out here to support John's career. Your family is on the other side of the country, and it's not like you've had a whole lot of time to build a support system here.

On the other, Bucky didn't sign up for this. He didn't sign up for a broken wife that isn't even his! You have no connection to him outside of becoming a regular at his bar and forming a possibly misguided attraction.

“Peanut? Come on back to me."

“Sorry, Buck. I just—“ you trail off, not entirely sure how to handle yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, Peanut Butter.” You laugh softly at the lengthier version of your nickname while he continues talking. “Look, how about we meet somewhere so we can talk?”

“Aren’t you working tonight though? I can just come to the bar.”

No matter how appealing Bucky’s offer is, you don’t want him to risk his livelihood for you. You aren’t worth that, not really.

“Not anymore, Pea. You’re more important to me. The guys here can handle the bar while I leave to take care of my Ps and Qs.”

You giggle again, unsure of where he comes up with these iterations.

“There she is.”

The words are murmured low, as if he was just speaking to himself. As if it’s a remark not meant for public consumption, just a murmur of his adoration.

“There’s a little hole in the wall on 115th and North. It’s called Winnie’s. Meet me there and you can talk for however long they’re serving coffee.”

"Don't diners always serve coffee?"

"They sure do. And Winnie's is a 24-hour diner. Which means," There's a loud shuffle on his end of the phone and then his voice cuts through. "you can talk to me for as long as you want, Peanut."

"Thank you, Bucky." You aren't as loud as you meant to be, but you know he hears you when he hums before you end the call.

Shoving the phone in the pocket of your jacket, you search for street signs.

And now you stand in front of Winnie's, a sixties diner straight off a movie set. Bright neon illuminates the street below, bathing you in a turquoise light that you're sure is not at all flattering. The front door is encased in chrome and vinyl covers the seating throughout the restaurant.

You push through the front doors and spy a large jukebox on the left side of the building. There's no host stand, so you peer around the seats in search of your bartender.

"Welcome to Winnie's. hun! Just take a seat, we'll be right with ya!"

An older woman yells from behind the bar top. Her graying hair is pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck and you're just about to read her nametag when you hear a familiar voice.

"Peanut! This-a-way!" Bucky stands from a booth in the corner, grabbing your attention and everyone else in the restaurant.

A bright blush colors your cheeks as you make your way to his booth in the corner. The linoleum floor of the diner becomes increasingly interesting the closer you find yourself to Bucky. To be completely truthful, you've never seen Bucky outside of the bar, so this is a jarring, but welcome experience.

He's still wearing those annoyingly large boots and tight white shirt that never fails to distract you when you're sitting on the twirly bar stools. His metal arm is on full display, the gold in-lay catching the light as he twists a straw wrapper into a tight spiral.

Bucky stands to greet you once you reach the booth, leaning toward you and wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your breath catches at his sudden body heat, but you waste no time in curling your arms around his torso.

"This might be the dumbest and most obvious question, but," he pulls back from the hug and gestures toward the seat across from him, "how’re you doing?"

A stifled laugh escapes as you settle into the worn vinyl seat. Instead of answering, you pull a less-than-convincing smile that you know Bucky can see right through. Evidenced by the fact that he laughs sarcastically at the look of it.

"Yeah, thought as much."

"It's just all becoming too much, I think."

An older woman brings two coffee mugs to the table, gripping a half-full coffee pot in her other hand. You stop yourself before you divulge anything in the presence of strangers. You don't need to burden another random stranger with your problems, Bucky is more than enough.

“Who's your friend, Jamie?"

Bucky smiles while introducing you to the woman. He extends the same courtesy to you, placing the name of the woman in front of you.

"Peanut, this is Winnie. She's the owner and operator of Winnie's diner."

Bucky pours a healthy dose of sugar into your coffee mug and then drops a spoon into it before pushing it across to you. You're in the middle of taking a large sip of the hot drink when Bucky continues talking.

"She's also my mother."

“Oh!"

He laughs as you sputter, completely phased by his nonchalance about introducing you to his mother. To be fair, you don’t really know Bucky outside of him being a great listener and mixologist. Winnie laughs and talks with the both of you before politely excusing herself to take care of her other customers.

“Your mother?”

Bucky leans forward and locks eyes with you.

“I’m so sorry. She wasn’t meant to be working today, but you would have met her one way or another.”

There he goes again, that dizzying nonchalance that bleeds into every word he speaks. Your mouth opens to speak, but you're still in a state of stunned that has you stumbling on your words.

"I'm just kidding, Nutter Butter." Bucky laughs and you hum while picking at your cuticles.

"Sorry, just took me by surprise."

"Clearly."

Bucky glances at your hands that are resting on the table and shifts around his side of the booth. There's a brief moment of silence as you mull over what Winnie has said.

"Did she call you 'Jamie'?"

Bucky lets out a loud laugh. One of those laughs that sounds like the feeling snuck up on everyone, including the person laughing.

"That's what you focused on, Peanut?"

You're smiling more in the past five minutes with Bucky than you have in the past five months with John. Bucky stops shuffling and then removes his coffee cup from the saucer it sits on. He slides the tiny plate toward you as you talk.

"Thank you for meeting me, Buck. Like I said, I think I'm just getting too tired of his bullshit. He really came at me today with the attitude that this is all my fault." Bucky nods as you continue speaking, "As if I'm the one who asked for an open marriage."

Bucky reveals a Ziplock bag and dumps the contents of it into the saucer in front of you. You're just about to start a rant when he nudges a salty shell into your hands. You glance down for half a second before getting the ball rolling.

"John asked for this! He's the one that's causing all this... this turmoil in our relationship. I haven't gone on a single date! I haven't caused a single issue. All I've been trying to do is understand things from his point of view, but he won't even give me the time of day to do that. I can't even suggest something like marriage counseling because he runs out the door the second he sees me enter a goddamn room."

You stop to take another long sip of your coffee while Bucky sits back and lets you rant at him across from yet another counter. You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, clearly holding back from saying something.

"I don't even know what to do anymore!" You huff and shove your hair over your shoulder. "What do you think?"

"Do you want my honest opinion or do you want me to just be here for you?"

"I want you to be you."

"Okay." Bucky nods, you crack open yet another peanut and place the shell on a napkin next to the plate. "I think you should start considering divorcing ol' Johnny boy."

"I can't do that."

Your response is immediate. Too quick to be healthy really. The shell of the peanut cracks between your fingers, revealing the salty perfection inside.

"Alright, divorce is off the table. How do you feel about separation?"

"No."

"Why?"

"It goes against everything I was raised to believe. I was brought up under the idea that the person you marry is the person you stick next to no matter what."

"Even when that person isn't extending the same courtesy?"

"I just--" You sniffle, peeling open yet another peanut. "I just want to be loved, Bucky. I don't understand what I did to make him look for love and affection from someone other than me."

Bucky reaches across the table and covers your hand with his, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles soothingly. You found yourself in this same position three months ago. It was when Bucky first told you of his interest in dating you.

To be perfectly honest, you were about two slow blinks away from folding into his arms then. Nothing's changed. You're still half a second from completely melting for the man before you, but you can't get over the fact that you're married.

"Peanut, you may never understand his reasoning. Especially when he won't sit down and explain anything to you. I think you should do what's in your best interest. If you don't want to divorce or separate, then you need to surround yourself with people who will give you that love and affection that you need."

A soft lull coats the pair of you and you allow your eyes to lock with Bucky's. What you find there shocks you.

Pity is something that you never, ever want to experience, but with a shitty situation like your marriage, you've come to expect it. Every time you glance in a mirror or catch your reflection in a store window, or even a puddle of water, you find your own eyes layered with that sickening sadness that accompanies self-pity.

However, in Bucky's clear blue eyes, you find nothing but determination. Determination for what is the question you're now faced with. In all reality, Bucky has no dog in this fight. He has no reason to be helping you the way that he has. Bucky's expressed interest in you, sure, but that doesn't constitute going to the lengths that he does.

"I just want you to be happy."

"Do you think you could make me happy?"

"Absolutely."

You nod while popping the last peanut into your mouth and wiping your hands off on your jeans. You stand unceremoniously and then hold your hand out to Bucky. He stares at your outstretched hand in half-baked shock and then jumps at the opportunity.

"See ya later, Ma! Love ya."

"Will you be home for family dinner?"

"Nope, gotta take my Peanut to the ballgame!"

Bucky rushes you out of the diner and pulls you to a heavy-looking motorcycle. You laugh as he pries open one of the saddlebags on the bike. He reveals two helmets, one white and one black. Both have sleek features with a face cover that reflects Bucky's sharp features.

"What?" His laugh that follows is full of nervous energy as you continue to laugh. "What's so funny?"

"It just--" You snort quietly, "You would drive a motorcycle."

"Oh yeah? And why's that, Peanut Brittle?"

You wave your hand as if you're circling his whole body and shrug while smiling your ass off.

"You just gestured to all of me."

You both break into a fit of laughter, only for Bucky to break it off and unclip the chin strap of the white helmet.

"Well, does safety also fit with..." he does the same gesture as you, "all this?"

Bucky gently rests the helmet on the leather seat of the motorcycle and then leans over to you.

"You might want to pull your hair back. Trust me I love your hair down, but whenever you're riding it's easier in the long run."

"Oh, okay." You begin to pull your hair back when you remember that your hair tie is on the counter at your apartment. "Actually, I think I'll suffer the consequences."

Bucky glances at you and then asks, "You need a tie?"

He prompts you to turn around and he quickly coaxes your hair into a neat ponytail at the base of your neck. You turn back to him with wide eyes, your hand reaching back to check the hairstyle.

"Come on. I've got plans, Payday! I've got ideas to romance ya!"

You laugh while Bucky beams and puts the white helmet over your head. Once it's secured, he swipes the visor up and boops your nose. You scrunch it in retaliation and he shakes his head at you. He grips the sides of your helmet and tilts your head to the side. A loud Bluetooth signal sounds and a robotic female voice informs you that the device has been connected.

"So, basic rules of the bike. I lean, you lean." He taps on the side of the helmet he just fiddled with. "This is a microphone, so we'll be able to communicate without the visors being up. Don't be afraid to squeeze if you feel a little wobbly. I promise I can handle whatever you give me, Peanut."

You flush at his words, thankful that you're already wearing the helmet so he isn't privy to the bright red coloring overtaking your cheeks. Bucky slips on his own helmet and mounts the bike in one smooth motion. His hands glide to the handlebars and then he turns to face you and jerk his head in the opposite direction.

You release a deep breath and give yourself a mini pep talk before placing your hands on Bucky's shoulders. The difference between them keeps you grounded as you swing your leg over the back of the motorcycle. His voice shoots into your ears, a breathy fuck me that wasn't meant for your ears.

"You ready?"

This question is at a normal level, and you respond in kind. The bike roars to life beneath you and you jolt toward him, arms immediately wrapping around his waist tightly.

"Hold on tight, spider monkey."

You giggle and interlock your fingers above the waistline of his jeans. Now, you can feel every breath he takes, every minuscule contraction of his muscles from every movement he makes to control the beast between his legs. You try to take steady breaths in order to control your heartbeat and match Bucky's, but the faster he goes, the faster your heart beats against his back.

City lights blur past as you find your rhythm behind Bucky. The more comfortable you get, the looser your grip becomes around him. He takes you through downtown with all the newer, hipster restaurants inhabiting the busy streets. Bucky begins to slow and you look up to see his profile illuminated under the bright red of the traffic stop.

His feet rest on the ground beside the bike, holding it upright while it rumbles idly. Bucky leans back into you, his hands moving from the handlebars to your thighs. He traces the skin that's exposed by the rips of your jeans. The loose material allows just enough space for his fingers to burrow beneath and trace meaningless patterns into your skin.

Butterflies make themselves known in the pit of your stomach, along with another slightly less prominent heat building at his touch on your skin.

"We're almost there, Peanut Brittle." Bucky's voice is melodic through the microphone. You could fall asleep listening to him read a phone book.

The bike thunders to life again as Bucky releases the clutch. More buildings fade as he continues to steer the two of you down the less traveled streets.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere fun!"

He laughs at your little groan. Surprises aren't necessarily your favorite thing, but if it's Bucky, maybe it'll be tolerable.

Suddenly, Bucky drops his right hand from the bars and indicates his next turn. The pair of you lean in that direction slightly as he slows into a parking lot of a roller rink. The sign for the Rockin' Roller Rink has a bright yellow arrow blinking toward the building at the base of its billboard.

He rolls into a parking spot near the entrance and pops the kickstand out to steady the bike. You peel yourself off of his back and rest your hands on your thighs while taking in your surroundings. Bucky slips his helmet off and then turns his torso to face you.

"As much as I love you on my ride, Peanut, you have to get off first."

You flush red beneath the visor and quickly dismount. However, in your rush to get off, you don't realize how unstable your legs are as they bear your full weight after the ride. Bucky's hands shoot out to your waist as he remains on the bike, a wry grin on his lips.

"Sorry, should've warned you about that." He stands in front of you and dusts off your shoulders before deciding that you're okay. "It's because of the riding position when you're on the bike. If you aren't used to that, it can be a little jarring the first few times."

He takes your helmet and then removes the keys from the ignition. Bucky bends at the waist and hooks his key carabiner to your belt loops.

As he straightens to his full height, he remarks with a wink, "Plus, the vibrations don't help much either."

You squawk unattractively and smack his chest with the back of your hand while he belly laughs. His metal hand hovers over your lower back as he guides you into the double doors of the roller rink. While he pulls open the door for you, you think about all the times that your husband has failed to do even that act of basic decency.

You shake your head as you walk in, determined to put him out of your mind. That is until you remember the one stipulation of your open marriage--you both have to disclose when you go on dates. Your mind drifts to all the unanswered texts he's sent you about his various dates. Little quips that accomplish nothing but remind you that your husband sees you as less than. A relationship that he no longer has to put effort into and hasn't for some time now. You take your phone from your back pocket to shoot John a quick text, a sour look overtaking your face as you do.

On a date, be home later. You’re quick to swipe your phone onto do not disturb and shove it back into your pocket. You aren’t ready to face the hypocrisy that John will manage to cook up.

"You okay, Peanut?" Bucky's voice clears everything. All the swirling doubt, the immense turmoil that you feel when you think of John, everything negative is wiped when you focus on Bucky.

Perhaps that's also an issue. Maybe you need to be single instead of dating. Maybe you need to love yourself before anyone else can effectively love you. What if that's the real issue? The real reason why John had to seek affection outside of your marital bonds. Maybe it was because you were so unloveable to the point that it was more effort to work through your issues than find an effortless partner somewhere else.

A cold finger taps your temple causing you to blink harshly and refocus on the man before you. This man who's become your safe haven, your harbor in this horrific storm that is your marriage. The man who brings peanuts to his mother's diner because you called him to meet up. The man who knows you better than your husband who you've known for half your life.

"The wheels," your bartender reminds you as he pulls you to the side of the room. His arms envelop you until all you can process is biceps, one cold and one warm. Bucky's cheek rests against your head and you can't find it in yourself to stop from melting into his touch. "How about this," he shifts away from you just enough to meet your eyes, "you just take it one hour at a time?"

"One hour?" You ask, brows furrowing skeptically at the concept. You've never been someone who just focuses on the thing in front of you. Your whole life you had a plan--get married, have kids, and secure a stable home life. Although, now that you think about it, your way isn't really that effective. What has your way got you? A decaying marriage, no kids, and a job that you tolerate at most.

"Just one at a time. Nothing can be that daunting if it's one at a time." He smiles big and leans forward, "And let's face it, your first hour is going to be spent watching me almost bust my ass on rollerblades."

You giggle and look at the ground, only for Bucky to lift your face up with a finger on your chin. He stares deep into your eyes, making you think if you stare long enough, you'll meld into one. His grip changes so that most of his fingers cup your jaw, allowing his thumb to trace your bottom lip. His metal finger tugs downward on your lip, releasing it from the hold between your teeth.

"That's definitely one of my current favorite noises you make." He struts off to the front counter, you trailing behind with a confused look on your face at his dopey smile. The implications of his comment seeping into your bones causing a deep heat to light in the pit of your stomach.

As you approach the teller, Bucky's already disclosed his shoe size for the rental pair of skates. The teenager behind the counter makes a bored grunt at the instruction and turns to you, waiting for your size before they trot off to fill the order. Once again, you're left alone with your bartender.

You lean against the raised platform, shoulder digging into the overhanging lip of the counter. During this brief moment of solitude, you take your time taking in Bucky. He really is a mountain of a man, coming in at six-foot-five inches of corded muscle and steel, he's really nothing less than impressive.

His hair just brushes the top of his broad shoulders, though you hardly ever see it down. He always manages to have it tied securely at the base of his neck. However one time, you remember walking into the bar only to see Bucky behind the bar, as usual. Except his hair was bundled on the top of his head. Little wisps of hair fell from the looser hold, framing his forehead and neck. On top of that, he was wearing a red henley that was at least two sizes too small with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his differing forearms in the dim light of Commandos.

It's safe to say that during those few hours you spent with Bucky looking like that, you were a little slower to respond. What's interesting though is that Bucky looks nothing like John. You always thought that John was your ideal man. Based on who you married, you would have assumed you'd be more attracted to Steve than Bucky. Instead, you find yourself lacing up a pair of rental roller skates, that might give you athlete's foot if you're not careful, with the imposing dark-haired man next to you.

"Why bartending?"

The question floats between you as you take the floor. Glistening hardwood reflects the bright neon of the strobe lights and your image beside Bucky. You watch as he glances down at you before refocusing his attention on the path in front of him.

"Well, if I'm being honest, I kind of stumbled into it." He wobbles dangerously as he speaks, hand jutting out to grasp yours in an act of safety. "Shit, sorry." He apologizes sheepishly but makes no move to drop your hand.

You giggle beside him, butterflies awakening from his act of self-comfort, a feeling you haven't felt since your relationship with John began. Bucky squeezes your hand, straightens his back, and pulls you around the rink.

"When I was discharged, it wasn't so much as bartending as it was the ownership of the bar. It gave me a chance to gain some semblance of control back." He stares off into the distance as he speaks as if he's reciting words he said time and time before. You peer up at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation.

Even though you've known Bucky for as long as you have, neither of you has really delved too deep into your pasts. To say you know next to nothing about Bucky's time in the military would be generous. You hum while you ponder his answer.

"Does that need carry into other aspects of your life?"

It's a genuine question, something to move the conversation along because you honestly want to know more about the man beside you. The double entendre of the question doesn't process until you see Bucky blushing beside you with a wry grin. Your eyes bulge, words stammering out of your mouth without finding their full forms.

"Oh-- uh, n— that's not wh--" Your eyes drop to the ground beneath you, the sleek wood reflecting the neon disco of the roller rink lights.

Bucky chuckles beside you, slowly rubbing his thumb against the knuckles of the hand he still holds. He steers the pair of you to the side of the rink, locking you against the slightly sticky bannister with his strong forearms. You quickly level him with a questioning stare as he leans forward and takes a deep breath, undoubtedly getting a strong whiff of your soft vanilla and cherry perfume.

“I’m trying to be very good for you, Peanut. So I’m going to say this once and then we’re going to continue with our date and it isn’t going to come up again until you bring it up yourself.” Your nod is almost imperceptible, but considering how Bucky continues without consequence, you figure he was just mentally preparing himself for his next comment.

“I am enamored with you. I want to have sex with you. I have fantasies that revolved exclusively around you. However, I’m not putting any pressure on this relationship or you. I understand that you need time to process your grief and your marriage, but just know that I’m more than happy to help you through the process and I certainly hope that I’m the first one you go to once you get to a place when you feel confident enough to explore your sexuality.”

You flush at his words, a hot streak racing up your spine before settling in your cheeks, blossoming them into a heavy shade of crimson. Bucky’s left hand comes up to your forehead, brushing away a strand of hair out of your face.

“But not only that, I want to have a relationship with you. I want the late night cuddles. I want the early morning breakfasts. I want to come home from the bar and take a shower with you. I want to wash your hair. I want you to massage my shoulders after a long day. I want to host Saturday barbecues with you for my family and our friends. I want to drive you to the bookstore and regret driving the motorcycle after you get so many because I just can’t say no to you.”

Bucky’s hand drifts down your arm, tracing the soft skin, taking his time to lace his fingers with yours. He pulls you away from the ledge, leading you two into the hustle and bustle of the roller rink. A smile stretches across his features as he tugs you along, a slow steady silence backed by the bumping base of the house music. You fumble with who to respond to him, but you eventually decide that no words are necessary. You know that yiu’ll be able to discuss things further later, you allow yourself to fall into the comfortable company that is your favorite bartender.

Time passes by at a rate you aren’t able to fathom. One moment you’re skating circles around Bucky, laughing as his arms jut out to his sides, steadying himself as he sways and wobbles. You flit out of his reach for a beat only for his arms to wrap around your waist, bringing you to his warm front. You squeal as you clutch his arms, the difference in temperature providing a level of comfort that you’ve been craving for months now.

You tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder, his long hair tickling the apples of your cheek. Soft puffs of air hit your face as he peers down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. He remains stoic, only his eyes giving you any indication that he wants more out of your current embrace.

“Attention all Rockin’ Roller Rink patrons, the rink will be closing in ten minutes! Please return all skates and other rentals to the front desk before leaving.”

The voice over the loudspeaker startles you causing you to jump in Bucky’s embrace. He tightens his hold on you, ensuring that you don’t topple over on your wheels. You breathe out a heavy sigh creating a slight distance between you.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Bucky is quick to follow you to the benches on the side to you could change your shoes so you can return the skates. You’re sure to take out your phone from your back pocket before sitting down. Against your better judgement, you swipe across the screen to turn off the silencing option. The screen illuminates and dozens of notifications flood the screen and you cringe. You shouldn’t feel bad, yore only doing what constitutes an open marriage. You sent the text, that was all that was required of you, and let’s be honest even that was more than what John deserves. Bucky leans back, shooting a glance at your now busy phone.

“Wow, he sure doesn’t miss a beat, does he?”

“Yeah, I’m sure everything he’s texted me the past two hours has been entirely supportive and not at all condescending or hostile.” Sarcasm bleeds into your words, making Bucky chuckle under his breath.

“Oh, ol’ Johnny boy? Nah, he’s nothing but a big old softy who knows that he’s only getting it as good as he’s giving it.” You huff at the comment just as your phone begins to buzz on the tabletop.

A groan leaves your mouth, slipping out before you can filter it. Bucky eyes you as your finger swipes the call button to accept. You haven’t even gotten the phone to your ear before John’s voice carries through the speaker, shouting expletives and derogatory remarks about you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re on a fucking date right now? I can’t believe you!”

Your whole body cringes, and you rush to shove your shoes on to take the call outside. You leave without saying a word to Bucky, unable to look him in the eye while the supposed love of your life berates you over the phone.

“John, I don’t know what you’re upset about.” You tried to remain calm while he carried on. “I followed the single rule that you set in place.”

Bucky takes your free hand and leads you to his bike, leaning against the seat while he watches you pace in front of him. Your once smooth features are now ridged and tense, worry lines aging you ten years the second you get on the phone with John. Your forefinger and thumb find home on the bridge of your nose, pinching the bone there to prevent the sudden headache. You finally stop in your tracks, stomping your foot out of exasperation and then steel your voice.

“I refuse to allow you to speak to me this way, John. You’re the one that opened our marriage, I’m simply following the precedent that you set. I honestly have no idea what your issue with this is.” Your eyes dart to Bucky, “Now, I don’t feel comfortable coming home when you’re speaking to me like this over the phone, so don’t wait up. I’ll come home when you cool off.”

Tears begin to rim your lash line as John continues to shout his lungs bloody. You refuse to meet Bucky’s eyes as you lower the phone, thumb hovering over the end call button. A dark metal palm extends your way, a silent ask for the phone that you don’t have the strength to deny. Bucky watches you as he brings the phone to his ear, listening to your husband’s rant.

“This is completely fucking ridiculous! You’re my wife and I demand you come home and we talk this out like adults. You’re being so unreasonable, right now. And the fact that you think it’s acceptable to text me you’re on a date instead of asking if you could go on one? Who the fuck do you think you are? It’s best you remember who you belong to. You’re so in for it whe—“

Bucky laughs, your head shoots up, eyes locking with his for the first time since you’ve evacuated the roller rink. The laugh is a short, sardonic laugh. One you’ve never heard him make before, almost as if he’s using it as a throat clear. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing how John reacts to being challenged in any capacity.

“Now, I don’t know who you think you are, talking to my Peanut the way that you are. But I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure, you aren’t going to be speaking to her that way ever again.”

It’s another thing about Bucky you’ve never experienced. His tone. It’s dull, lifeless, but full threats that made your skin grow cold and your spine stiffen. You knew Bucky would never cause you harm, but those who hurt the people he loved? The same respect isn’t extended.

“And who the fuck is this?”

“I’m the guy.”

He’s eerily calm, the type of calm you’ve never seen him. You’ve been a distant onlooker while he deals with rowdy bar guests, having to throw out drunk customers who reached their limit and then some. But this… this was something else. John is still yelling, sure to be disturbing your neighbors earning you yet another noise complaint, possibly the one that gets you evicted from your apartment.

“What guy?”

“The guy that’s going to rip your spine out through your throat if you threaten my girl again.”

The world stills. The noisy streets of Brooklyn fade as you search Bucky’s eyes for any semblance of a joke. His eyes have darkened, latching onto yours with a depth that you’ve never seen in them. He reaches for you, pulling you in between his legs by your belt loop. You can hear the stammering on the other end clearly, John’s never had anyone stand up to him with such sincerity.

“If you’re done being a pussy, I’m a little preoccupied. If you’d like to continue this conversation, you may do so anytime at my bar. Howling Commandos. You can Google it and me in your free time. Right now, I’m on a date and you’re interrupting it and disturbing my girl.” Bucky’s hand snakes around your waist, pressing his chin to your chest while maintaining eye contact with you. “Now, apologize to her.”

He switches the phone to speaker mode, allowing you to hear the weakness invading John’s voice. All the while, Bucky’s eyes never leave yours. Your body melts into him, his warmth something that you didn’t realize you were craving. John stammers on his end of the phone, eking out excuses as to not apologize. Bucky clears his throat once more, the action causing his Adam’s apple to bob against your breasts.

“Apologize, Johnny boy.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Three monotonous beeps echo out into the silent parking lot. Wind whips against your cheeks, igniting a shiver through your body. He shoves your phone into his front pocket before wrapping his other hand around your waist. Bucky shifts again, pressing his forehead into your stomach instead of staring up at you. Your arms come up around his shoulders, burying your face into his soft hair.

“Thank you.”

Bucky says nothing in return, squeezing your middle before pulling back to meet your gaze.

“Let’s go, you can stay at mine.”

He pushes against your hips so he can reposition himself over the bike. You’re quick to stop him, remarking something about him just taking you to a hotel for the night. He cuts you off before you can fully finish your sentence.

“I’m sorry Peanut, but you surely don’t think I’m about to let you spend the night at some sketch hotel by yourself. And I’m certainly not going to let you go back to that apartment with that temperamental skeeze of a husband you have.”

“Let me?” You back up, resting your hand on your now cocked hip.

“Peanut.” Bucky stares up at you, “I didn’t mean it in that way. I’m sorry. I’m only saying that I want you to be safe and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in either of those environments. I would be much for comfortable if you came home with me so that I could protect you.”

You shoulders relax, in the back of your mind, you know that he didn’t mean anything by it. John always sets you on edge, and it’s unfair of you to put those emotions onto Bucky.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… John.” Your sentence trails off, no ending really needed because you know that Bucky understands.

“Come on. Get on, Peanut Butter. We aren’t far from my place.”

You mount Bucky’s bike, his left hand immediately going to your thigh, his fingers threading themselves between the rips of your jeans to feel the soft skin of your knee. The ride to Bucky’s apartment is quiet, the rumbling of the motorcycle beneath you is powerful and steady. Every chance he got, Bucky would slip his fingers into the rips of your jeans, aching to be close to you in every way possible. You lean forward, resting your helmeted head against his back while he drives.

If there was one thing that you never would have guessed, it’s that Bucky Barnes would have pale green wallpaper in his apartment. Not just a pale green, he proudly declares that it’s agate green, the color he spent weeks painstakingly debating between that and nurture green. You giggle as you toe your shoes off at the front door, quietly taking in his personal space.

The exposed brick melds with the dark countertops in a way that’s almost soothing. The pendant lights above the island cast a soft glow over the open floor plan. Bucky turns to face you, peeling off his leather jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the door. You catch his eyes, only to be distracted by the wall of bookshelves on the far end of his apartment.

“Oh my god, Bucky I had no idea you were so interested in reading.”

He laughs, shoving his hands in his front pockets while walking behind you as you approach the stacks of books he has scattered throughout his home.

“I’ve always enjoyed reading. When I was deployed there wasn’t much to do other than read. I had my Ma send me all different kinds of books, from new releases to her favorite classics to stuff my little sister was reading in school.” He stands beside you, shoulder to shoulder as you glance up at him. “Guess I never kicked the habit, though there are worse vices that a person could have.”

You hum, refocusing your attention on the books, but only for a second as Bucky reaches his hand out and leads you up the stairs to the lofted bedroom. Bucky’s comforter matches the green walls that sits behind his TV. Not only that, but his pillow cases vary from overly fluffy to soft silks. The mixture of textures and fabrics is almost too much for your brain to comprehend. You’re about to question it when Bucky returns to your line of sight, a dark Henley in one hand and a pair of boxers in the other.

“I don’t have any pajamas for you, but you can wear these.”

He’s almost sheepish as he presents you with the clothes, a light blush casting over his cheeks. It’s so interesting to interact with him. At times, he’s the most suave man you’ve ever met, and at others, it’s like he’s a lovestruck teenager who’s just got their first girlfriend.

You thank him and follow behind him as he leads you to the en-suite bathroom. Just as Bucky begins to explain where everything is, he bends down to the bottom cabinets and retrieves a spare toothbrush.

“Planning for extra company, huh?” You joke while poking him in the side as he stands next to you in the doorway.

Bucky’s tongue peaks out of his mouth, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he stares down at you. His eyes do that thing again, the same thing he did just before he laid out his feelings for you earlier. Your breath catches in your throat, is he leaning closer? Are you inching toward him? What are you doing?

“Bucky,” the tension breaks, a dam of emotions behind held back by your dedication to your marriage. “I feel like I should explain.”

His hands rest on your shoulders, quick to silence your worries. He leans forward, dotting a quick kiss to your forehead. Bucky lingers, the soft press of his lips shoots warm and fuzzy feelings through your bones.

“Tomorrow. You’ve had a long night. We can talk about everything in the morning.”

A weight of anxiety lifts from your shoulders as you watch Bucky begins descend the stairs, lush blankets and pillows in hand. You turn back to his room, allowing yourself to sink into his private space.

You peel back the duvet and sit on the edge of his mattress, unsure if you should fully dive into his being. If you’re quiet enough you can hear Bucky downstairs, shuffling on the couch in an attempt to find a comfortable position.

Your eyeline floats over his bedside table, the lamp atop it casting a pale yellow glow over the entire room. The surface next to you is covered in items that are unequivocally Bucky—a worn copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth, a leather bound journal, the few gold rings that he something adorns his digits with while bartending. His rings clink against each other as your fingers drift over the cold metal.

Among his assorted objects is your phone on his charger. The light pink case is slightly out of place, but not enough to be obnoxious. You smile to yourself while lying back in his sheets.

You really do owe him an explanation. Bucky deserves more than some broken woman who’s in a shitty marriage. He deserves the world and then some. All you can offer is a somewhat clear thought process.

You think on John’s actions today. He really showed you his true colors. You start to wonder if he really cares about you or if just cares about having a wife. If it’s the second one, why does it have to be you?

You flip to the other side, now facing the back wall of windows. Your mind is about as calm as the city right now. New York is never quiet, even this far out in Brooklyn. You’re never safe from the light pollution that constantly blocks out the beauty that is the natural night sky.

It makes you long for your hometown, the wide open spaces with vast fields of nothingness that stretch for miles on end. Maybe it’s time you pay it a visit. It would be nice to escape the hodge podge of a life you’re currently living.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you force yourself to slow your breathing. Distantly you can hear Bucky begin to snore, a low monotonous sound that you cling to. For the first time in months you feel secure. Your muscles decompress, your brow unfurls and you allow yourself to truly relax.

With everything that’s going on, Bucky deserves more. You deserve more, but that can all wait until tomorrow.

Tomorrow. That’s a good thought.

#bartender!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bartender!bucky x peanut!reader #bucky x peanut #consequences #ray's writing #bartender!bucky barnes x peanut!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes au #bartender!bucky #bartender!bucky barnes x you #bartender!bucky barnes x y/n #bartender!bucky x you

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bloatedandalone04 · 5 months

Text

Bring in the New Year - Part 2

➪the one where you and hayden enter a new year together.

Warnings: swearing, smut, fluff, unprotected sex, public sex, hair pulling, marking, alcohol consumption, soft dom hayden

Word Count: 2.6k | Part 1

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | HAPPY NEW YEAR !

The loud music was almost deafening, and Hayden started looking for the nearest exit so he could escape the noise.

He pushed his way through the crowd of people, receiving a few light slaps to his back as he neared the sliding glass door. While this wasn’t his first New Years party, not by a long shot, he still felt a bit anxious about how many people were around him.

A family friend of his had thrown the party at his new apartment that was on the twenty fourth floor of the building, and of course Hayden was invited to it. He wasn’t much of a party fan, but didn’t mind that this was his second one this month, the first one being the Christmas Eve party.

Once he was out on the balcony and set his drink aside, he braced his hands on the railing and took a few deep breaths. It was the end of one of the best years of his life; he moved into a house instead of looking at another apartment, he got engaged and he got a dog.

He accomplished so much, and he was beyond excited to see what the new year brings.

The balcony was abandoned except for him, and the dark sky looked beautiful in contrast to the tall, lit-up buildings that surrounded this one. The small light above the sliding door was dimmed, basking the surrounding area in darkness, and he was sure that no one inside was paying attention to him.

Well, maybe one person was.

The door opening and closing and the sound of heels walking towards him was all Hayden could hear, so he wasn’t caught off guard by the pair of arms that abruptly wrapped around his waist from behind. He didn’t need to hear your voice to know it was you as your vanilla perfume was more than enough for him to be able to relax in your embrace.

You run your nose along the back of his neck before kissing behind his ear, your heels allowing you to actually reach him since he was a lot taller than you when you weren’t wearing them. “Baby,” you hummed, running your hands up and down his front.

Hayden leaned back against you, pressing his back to your chest as he turned his head to look at you. “Hi, sweet girl,” he greeted you, placing his hands over yours that were resting on his abdomen. “Are you having fun?”

You hum again, kissing his cheek now that he gave you easier access to it. “I’m having fun trying out all the drinks in your friend’s alcohol cabinet,” you answer as you press your body closer to his. “I just missed my fiancé, missed my man.”

He could hear the seductiveness in your voice and knew all the drinking and dancing you’ve been doing since the two of you arrived had put you in the mood. Still, he was raised to be a gentleman. “Your man, huh?” He laughed, turning his head a bit more so he could look at your eyes. “Are you drunk, pretty girl?”

You give him a sheepish smile as you shake your head, running the tip of your nose along his jaw afterwards. “No,” you answer, raking your hands up his arms and gripping his biceps. “I’ve only had a few sips here and there.”

Hayden’s lips break out into a grin as he turns around completely and brings his hands up to either side of your face. His thumbs trace the curve of your jaw as he leans in and connects your lips in a searing kiss.

You return the kiss with a sense of need, gripping the side of his neck with one hand while the other tangles in his hair. You run your tongue along his bottom lip before pulling away and walking backwards, tugging him along with you as you pick up his discarded drink.

Bringing the rim of the glass to your lips, you sip on the drink while keeping eye contact with him. You swallow and lick the access booze from your red lips as you hand him the drink, and you watch with dark eyes as he finishes it off and sets it down again. He had a much higher tolerance to alcohol than you did, so he was nowhere near being drunk, despite him having more to drink than you did.

You press your lips together as you pull your hand from his and tug his shirt free from where he had tucked it into his jeans. Hayden laughs under his breath as he stares down at you, both your and his hair blowing in the cool wind. “C’mon, baby,” he coaxed, taking your chin in between his thumb and index finger. “Let’s go back to the party. We can say goodbye and then I’ll take you home.”

His own words sounded good to him, but you just shake your head and pull him with you to the dark corner of the balcony that was a few feet from the glass sliding door. If Hayden moved a step or two to his left, he would be able to clearly see into the apartment, but you didn’t seem to care at all. “I want you, Hayden,” you mumbled, your fingers beginning to unbutton his white dress shirt. “Here, now. Right now.”

Your lips peppered kisses along the base of his throat, then you trailed your mouth down to his chest. “You’re something else,” he comments as he braces his forearm against the wall above your head. He takes your left hand in his right one and observes a certain finger that had recently accepted a ring. “Ever since I put a ring on you, you’ve been so needy for me.”

You whine as you press a kiss to his lips, slipping your arms around his body and running your hands down his bare back. “Can you blame me?” You asked, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his waist. “You want to spend the rest of your life with me, how can I not want you all the time after you asked me to marry you?”

Hayden laughed, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt but leaving it on. “I told you a long time ago that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you,” he pointed out, bunching up the fabric of your silver dress. “A ring really made it clear to you?”

You grin up at him. “Yes,” you answer, wrapping your arms around his neck as he presses his front to yours. “You want me to be your wife. I’m gonna be your wife.”

He laughs again, kissing along your exposed shoulder. “It’s all hitting you now, huh? Are you sure you’re not drunk?” He teased and you shook your head again.

“I just love you so fucking much,” you reply, clinging onto him by his shirt and hair. “And I want you so bad.”

Hayden effortlessly picks you up, making you squeal a bit as you hold onto him. “Right now?” He asked, knowing damn well what your answer is. You glance over to your left and feel your heartbeat quicken at the height you are currently at, and the fact that your feet were no longer touching the ground had your grip on him tightening. “Right here?”

Though you were a tad scared to have no real grip on anything other than him right now, and the fact that your life is literally in his hands as you were a mere few inches from the railing, the thrill of it all only added to your lust. You nod and bite your lip, your mouth quickly being covered by his afterwards. “Right here,” you confirm against his lips. “Please, Hayden, fuck me right where anyone can see.”

Hayden cursed under his breath, gripping the backs of your thighs and pressing his hard-on against your core. “You’re filthy, you know that?” He muttered as he pulled your dress up above your hips. “You want me to fuck you when any one of our friends could walk out and see us?”

Really, the people inside should be the last of his concerns as anyone in the surrounding buildings would easily be able to see you if they were to simply glance out their windows, but he really didn’t care much.

“And don’t stop even if they do,” you challenge him, earning a throaty groan from him. “Please, baby, I need you so bad.”

He knew that. He could feel the damp spot on your panties as he pushed them aside and gently sunk two of his fingers knuckle-deep into your welcoming heat. “I’ll fuck you,” he stated, not surprised that you had completely turned him on without even really trying. He came out here to get some air and to be away from the craziness, and now here he is; a mere few seconds away from fucking you against the wall of his friend’s new balcony.

“Please,” you whimpered, tangling your hands in his hair that was quickly becoming messier by the minute.

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised, bracing your body against his thigh as he unzipped his jeans. Once he freed himself, he pressed you right up against the wall and wrapped your legs securely around his waist before teasing your clit with his tip. “I always do, don’t I?”

You nod desperately, bucking up against him at the barely-there friction he was creating. “You do, Hayden,” you fed into his ego without a care in the world. “Always fuck me so good.”

He grinned at you, his usually sweet and sometimes shy girl who had turned into a needy and desperate mess for him. You wanted him so bad, and he was more than happy to give himself to you whenever you ambushed him like this.

If you needed him in the middle of a party on a twenty fourth floor balcony, then so be it.

“Hold onto me, baby,” he ordered and you obliged immediately, locking your ankles together and grabbing a firm hold on his shoulders. You moan as soon as he enters you, your walls taking every inch of him until he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, looking down at where you two connected. As he began to slowly fuck into you, proving that he also didn’t really care much for being quick so you weren’t caught, you bite down harshly on your kiss swollen lip. “Oh, fuck.”

Hayden leaned in and sucked a mark onto the skin of your collarbone, your strapless dress giving him perfect access to every inch of your shoulders. “You’re so tight,” he grunted, wondering how you managed to stay as tight as you were the first time he took you like this. No matter how many times he fucks you, your walls stay impossibly tight and have to stretch around him every single time. “So good for me.”

“Hayden,” you moan a bit louder, clinging onto him tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he instantly says back, holding your hips in a firm grip as he practically fucks you into the wall. “Love you so much. You’re so good, letting me fuck you like this when we could get caught at any second.”

It was true. The door wasn’t locked, and there were hundreds of people in that apartment. He could hear them every time they passed by the balcony, and you both knew that any one of them could easily walk out and catch you in the sinful act you are currently taking part in.

“We’re gonna miss the countdown because you couldn’t wait until we got home to jump on me,” he teased and your face burned in a deep blush. He says that, but really is just as bad as you are. He had gotten hard as soon as your mouth touched his, and he knew he would’ve been walking around the party with you pressed to his front so he could hide his erection if he didn’t take care of it now.

Though you were quickly beginning to lose yourself in his quick and hard thrusts, you were still coherent enough to say, “You want me, too, don’t even try that right now,”

Hayden laughs, kissing the mark he left on your shoulder before meeting your lust-filled gaze. “Of course I want you,” he rasped. “I want you all the time, baby.”

You moaned loudly and though he knew it wasn’t likely that you could be heard over the loud music, Hayden still looked over and glanced inside the apartment.

The guests were still chatting amongst themselves and seemed to not notice the absence of the two of you, making Hayden smirk as he quickened his pace. While no one was aware of what you were doing, he still had to be a bit quick about it as it was nearing twelve in the morning, and as soon as the new year began, he knew people would start looking for him and you.

With your back pressed up against the wall and your front pressed up against his chest, you were powerless as you squirmed in his arms. Your hand grips the back of his head and you connect your lips in a deep kiss. “I’m close,” you warn as you clench helplessly around him.

“Already?” He mocked and you blushed even more. “You really did need me, huh?”

“Hayden,” you whine, trying to buck your hips and meet his thrusts, but you were only able to move a couple of inches. “Don’t tease me.”

“‘M not teasing you, sweet girl,” he promised, kissing you softly for further effect. “I’m giving you what you need, aren’t I?”

You nod quickly, gripping him tighter just as you hear the guests begin to countdown from ten. “Hayden,” you moan, raking your hands through his hair as your high quickly approaches. “Come with me, baby.”

Hayden groans quietly, your relentless pulling on his hair making his own high creep closer. “Is that what you want?” He asked, sliding his hands higher so they’re gripping your ass. “You want to come together?”

You nod again, clenching tightly around him as the guests chant out a ‘five, four, three,’.

“Come on then, baby,” he crooned, his tip brushing against your sweet spot with every thrust. “Come with me, come for me.”

You moan loudly as you do just that, clamping down around him as you come hard and fast. Your warmth floods around him, coaxing Hayden’s release as well. He lets out a string of deep groans as he continues to fuck you through your highs, the loud cheering from inside as the new year began being tuned out almost completely.

You practically fall limp in his arms as he gently sets you down, his grip on you never faltering as he holds you steady on your shaky legs. Both your and his hair were a mess, and your lips were wet and puffy, but you both wore dumb grins on your faces at what you just did.

Hayden pulls your dress back down as you button his shirt up with nearly numb fingers, and you couldn’t help but joke at the event that had just taken place. “Now we can say we started our year with a bang,” you say and Hayden rolls his eyes as he smooths out his hair and wipes away the lipstick that had smudged on your chin. “Happy New Year.”

He smiles at that, leaning down to kiss you. “Happy New Year, sweet girl,” he said back, taking your hand in his once you were both looking presentable again.

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leonw4nter · 2 months

Text

Silver Screen

RE2R!Leon x F!Reader modern AU (The 300 followers special!)

You walk into the room, an iPad opened to the latest installment of the fanfiction series you’ve been following for quite some time carried in the nook of your arm and salted caramel boba tea in the other. Setting the sugary drink on the table beside your spot on the couch, you temporarily put your iPad down to get into a comfortable position in the small pillow and blanket nest you’ve made for yourself. With a pleased sigh and an excited grin, you take a long sip of the beverage before finally picking the iPad up and have the coziest time of your life.

You were having a solid few hours of the coziest time of your life until you heard some soft sniffling coming from somewhere in the living room along with the faint pads of feet against the wooden floorboards. You look up, your eyes finally focused on something else other than pixels that formed words on a bright screen. There, you see him: your roommate Leon whose face is in his hands, ears red, and what seems to be muffled crying– no, sobbing as he walks around in circles.

Concerned for your friend and roommate, you get up from your place and walk up to him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You place a hand on his broad back, patting and gently stroking it back and forth. Leon finally lifts his head up, wiping off his tears with the sleeve of his dark green sweatshirt.

“This author was not playing around, ended up crying.” is all he said which prompted you to try and hold back a giggle. So he’s been reading fics too, you think to yourself.

“Can I read it?” you ask, to which he nods and fishes his phone out from the pocket of his plaid pajama pants.

“Lemme find it real quick,” he responds. He’s still sniffling, the waterline of his eyes occasionally brimming with a new batch of salty tears before he blinks them away. He finally finds the fic he’s been reading, handing you his phone while he walks over to the kitchen to grab himself a glass of water to stop hiccuping.

“You sure you’re fine?” you call out before you read.

“Yeah! Fic was just really… it was just something!”

You start reading the fic, your eyes trailing on the words on the screen. The words seemed familiar so you guessed that Leon had stumbled on a fic you’ve read before. Wrong! It was your fic, a fic you finished updating around last night. No wonder it was too familiar. You stared at the phone in your hand with wide eyes like a deer in headlights, a child caught with a jar of sweets in her hands when she shouldn’t have been eating sugary things. Your gaze drifted to Leon in the kitchen, who was still somehow trying to control his breathing while chugging down water like his life depended on it. He didn’t seem to notice the sudden drain of color in your face so you continue to scroll down, checking if he left any likes or reblogs or comments on your work. Another bombshell dropped: he’s the top reader of your work and the one that’s been keyboard smashing in the comments, along with the… soulful, emotional reblogs. His account is the one that’s religiously kept up with whatever you post, whether it be new fics or just random vents. BiohazardBard, the sweet account who comments nice stuff like “Don’t worry about us, take some time for yourself! U got this!!” and reblogs with tags like “UEIXGOFQWV CRIED SO HARD U DONT EVEN KNOW IEWBRXXR”on angst fanfiction is your roommate and also your crush.

You stand there in silence, mouth ajar as you continue to stare blankly into his phone, unable to process the fact that he’s aware of your online persona but he doesn’t know that it’s you. You exit the app and turn his phone off, walking over to him in the kitchen and give him pats to his shoulder to really make sure that he’s okay. If he’s calmed down then you’re not– internally, that is.

“That fic uh… it truly was something,” you sympathetically say. “Guessed that the part where uh- she leaves him was the one that got the water works going.”

“Oh um nope, it’s the part where things were slowly spiraling down. Got anxious for them then just full-on bawled when shit hit the fan,” he explains with a sheepish smile. “This fic is just bars, I love it so much actually– Might print a copy of this to take to work when I can’t be on my phone.”

To have your fics reblogged and your account be compared to the unburned version of the Library of Alexandria is one thing but to hear your number one dedicated reader say that to your face? After a breakdown? Nothing will ever top that and he doesn’t even know he just ugly-cried in front of the author he keeps up with.

“Imagine someone coming up to the front desk to be like: “hi someone stole my bike” or something and they call you over and their resident cop is just red as hell and all slobbery,” you joke.

“Shut up! I’ll try not to cry, I’m going to build immunity,” he half-jokes before taking another gulp of water.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

You lay awake at night, staring into the dark nothingness of your room. Your feelings are all convoluted– joy, fear, embarrassment, amusement, excitement– and it’s hard to pinpoint what is ruling over you. Finding out that the man whom you’ve been hinting your feelings for is obsessed with your writing? In complete adoration with the products of your mind and skill? Hopefully he doesn’t suss out on your more romantic and sappy fics, inspired by real-life events you experienced with him (with more romantic and glittery bits). It doesn’t take even a minute to decide that you’ll be keeping this secret from him in order to not make anything weird between you two. Leon already seemed embarrassed after having been caught sobbing like that by a mere set of pixels on screen so you decided that this would be best for both of you. Unable to sleep due to the combined combination of boba tea and adrenaline, you sit up and reach for your phone because reading a fic or two before bed doesn’t hurt, right?

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

It’s been a few days after the little “incident” and Leon’s been more open with showing you some fics he enjoys, occasionally giving his own reviews and recommendations for you. He’s still the same guy that keyboards smashes on your comments and on his reblogs, which makes you giggle since you know who’s been sending you that. He finally came home from a long day of work only to do some more work outside of office hours, catching up on reports that some absent cops left behind and was handed over to him. Making himself a cup of coffee, he stretches his arms and hands before typing away on his dingy laptop for the next 3 hours. A few hours later, you hear some giggling coming from him so you bring your head up and spot his head once again buried in his hand, ears red but from giggling this time. He swings his legs, accidentally nudging the leg of a chair so he yelps a bit, which tugs a little chuckle from you. His ears pick up on the jolly noise coming from you, his face glowing when he sees you smile (or are you just seeing things?). He asks for you to come over to him and points at something on the screen of his laptop.

“Thought you wanted uninterrupted time for work,” you ask.

“I’m on a break, I think I deserve it,” he confidently says. “Anyways, take a look at this. Starting from here until here.”

You expected that you’d see another fic of yours but it was from another account’s instead, which disappointed you a slight bit but not that you minded too much. You finished reading the lines, the corners of your lips tugged skyward with a subtle splash of baby pink tinting your cheeks.

“Damn, that’s sweet,” you comment. “Gosh, I want what they have.”

“Me too. Like, hey God I’m still here ya know! I’ve seen what you’ve done for others!” Leon adds on.

Um, hey Leon! I’m literally right here! Do you need glasses? I’m right beside you!

Since you two were having a nice moment sharing fics and fic lines, you decided to show Leon some lines from fics you love.

“Take a look at this one,” you say as you hand him your iPad. “His description of her had me clawing at walls and biting my fist.”

Leon takes the gadget from your hands with care and places them beside his laptop, reading the lines. He reads in silence and it appears that he’s going over the line again and again.

“Who wrote this?” he asks.

“Uh, scottfree.”

“I don’t think I’m getting out of this scot-free,” Leon jokes. “Pun intended.”

“And why is that…?”

“Because I wrote that.”

You look at him in confusion, two neurons in your brain making a very, very, very slow connection in this moment.

“You’re scottfree?! And also BiohazardBard?!,” you exclaim. So he’s also scottfree, the writer whose lines you’ve screenshotted takes up about a third of all images on your phone. Amazing.

“How do you know I’m BiohazardBard?!?!,” he exclaims even louder as he gets up from his seat.

“Because um– the fic you cried over some days ago is mine! And I saw your account name and profile and I found out that you’re one of my loyal readers!”

He looks like he’s ready to wither away into nothing, become dust and probably get sucked in a vacuum cleaner.

“God that’s embarrassing,” he quietly mumbles. “Tell me: is that fic the first fic you’ve read from me? My other account, I mean– the one where I post fics.”

“Scottfree? Um, no… I’ve read like– quite a lot, actually.”

He stares blankly at you, unsure on how to absorb the information dumped on him. He’s only got a half-asleep half of a brain cell now since the rest of them were allocated on getting those papers done with the other half of the remaining brain cell, which he thinks is now gone.

“While we’re at this, um. You must know that the descriptions I write for the love interests are usually what I wished I could say to you or how I’d describe you. When he’s telling her how magical it is to be around her presence? I’ve daydreamed one too many times about really saying that you,” he quietly confides in you. “If I want to write another story, I hope I could write it alongside you.”

They really weren’t playing with slow-burn romance where both of them are too shy to confess their feelings. It’s happening to me right now! I’m in the confession part of the story!

“I guess it’s a writer thing for writers to include parts of someone they like in their works because I did the same thing for my works, actually. If I wanna come up with a real sweet line, I just think about you and I wish that I’d say these to you. Maybe I’ll wish that whatever I write the love interest to say, I’ll hear you say them to me too and uh… manifesting is real I guess, I dunno,” you awkwardly laugh. “Guess the feeling’s mutual, huh.”

“Yeah. Wow, this is… this is amazing. Real amazing,” Leon softly says.

“Mhm.”

“So…”

“So… what now…?”

“I guess this makes as mutuals in terms of accounts and feelings," the blond grins.

NOTE - Once again, thank you to the lovely 310 people who decided to follow me and keep up with whatever I post :)) I first came up with this while I was washing my cats' bowls and I intended for it to be a drabble but I just decided to make it a fic in the end. Still working on other reqs rn so expect some more posts in the coming days <33 If your usernames are somehow the same as the usernames that I made up for this fic then I didn't mean that and it's just a coincidence 😭🙏 Also y'all gotta hear me out on Francis Mosses from That's Not My Neighbor, he's cute :3 Judging from my mlist, I'm not sure if I love RE2R Leon hmm I'm not too sure 🤔 Anyways, that's all and thank you for reading my fics!!!!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUU !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The dividers are made by @benkeibear , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

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moon-huny · 8 months

Text

Stole the Moon - Chapter One

CW: My content is not for anyone under 18. Mostly suggestive flirting and mentions of kidnapping and imprisonment. Reader character has sustained head injury. Oh, you also get choked. Buggy is an a-hole, but that's why we all love him.

Word Count: 2K

Summary: You've been kidnapped and can't remember a thing. Good news! Ole Captain Buggy is here to make you feel more like yourself.

A/N: Alright this is my first ever fan fiction to grace the website we all know and love. I originally wanted to be a fic writer when I joined tumblr, and now, my time has finally come. This Buggy is very much based off of OPLA, since I never actually got into the anime until recently. Tying to keep him in character, but the plot is very much of my own design.

Being new to this, I would love any feedback you might have. Likes, comments and reblogs are welcome, and would make my little heart sing. Okay, that's all, enjoy.

masterlist ✧˖°

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“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up.”

You woke to his voice. Your eyes slowly opening – or attempted to open – before becoming conscious of a stabbing aching pain racking your skull. You rolled over on your side, cradling your head in your hands and shutting your eyes tight. The soft candle light in the dark of your room eased the pain, but whatever relief you found was immediately wiped out by the shrill sound of him speaking.

“Ya know, I thought they killed you.” You could hear his heavy steps pacing the room, the sound too loud, his voice too harsh. He spoke with such levity, a certain air of nonchalance in his tone. He thought this was funny.

“I mean, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy getting you aboard my ship,” he paused, grabbing a chair and dragging it across the floor. A high pitched sound emitting from wood scraping wood – a sound he made on purpose just to cause more pain. You winced.

“But I didn’t think my crew hurt you this badly.” A tone of mock concern fell from his lips. “You must have put up a real knock out fight.”

He sat across from you. Spreading his legs and leaning over to get closer. Your body was curled up on a poorly made and uncomfortable plank of wood some might dare to call a bed. The “blankets” around you were nothing more than used burlap and tattered bits of sail.

He got quiet, you heard the ocean and people stomping and shouting above you. Then, so quietly, just above a whisper, “I don’t usually keep damaged goods, but you’re much better off lying here than wreaking havoc on my ship.”

It took all your strength to peel open your eyes and pull your hands away from your head. Breathing heavily, you pushed yourself upright. The clench in your jaw both from the pain you were in and the anger you felt.

Through your blurry vision, you could just barely make out a red nose. His eyes were piercing green, like the ocean after a storm. The clown makeup, the bright blue hair, you’d seen his wanted poster before.

Buggy the Clown – wanted for 15,000,000 Berry.

“I’ll burn this whole ship down,” you said. “I’ll sink it to the bottom of the East Blue.”

Your threat came out much weaker than you intended. You were fighting nausea and an intense dizziness you were struggling to keep under control. It seems the clown caught on. He gently pushed his palm into your forehead with a flourish causing you to fall back down onto the bed gripping either side of your head in your hands.

“Aw see,” he said, standing to lean over your body. “That’s why you’re gonna stay right here,” he said, punctuating the last two words.

He made his way to the exit and grabbed the barred door. He pulled it shut with a loud clatter. You felt the metal sound resonate in your skull causing you to push your palms into your eyes.

“Night night, doll! We’ll chat some more tomorrow.” A loud cackling laugh resounded down the hallway. It made you want to scream.

///

And so, he came back to torture you everyday. Never brought you food or water, instead opting to send random crew members each visit. He didn’t want you making any friends. The only constant was one meal at night and a prompt visit from him following. He never said much, and if he did, you could hardly recall what you spoke about.

You started feeling better. You were able to get up, start walking around your prison. You clocked that you’d been at sea only four days. One porthole you could see out of – if you climbed some precarious boxes – told you you were in the middle of nowhere. Far away from any visible land.

The sun was setting, the sky turning a gorgeous orange color and the ocean turning pink in return. His boots thumped down the stairs, you could hear him shouting up towards the deck, “Hey, shit for brains, if I didn’t make myself clear earlier, I want to be docked in that harbor YESTERDAY! GET. A. MOVE ON!”

Wherever this circus boat was headed, it was moving fast, but clearly not fast enough. What was the hurry? What was the clown’s goal? And with so little in the cargo hold … It wasn’t like he had a huge haul. Were we being followed by another ship? You didn’t ever see anyone from your tiny window, and the conversations above were so muffled that gathering any kind of intelligence was near impossible.

“HONEY, I’M HOME!”

You ran from your porthole back onto the bed, pulling the blankets up around you. You did your best to slow your breathing and pretend you were asleep.

“Oh sweets,” he sighed, draping himself through the bars. “I know you’re awake.”

The smile you knew he had on, the sickeningly sweet way he spoke to you, it made you angry. You heard the door unlock and slowly swing open.

You were feeling stronger. Though the ship was in the middle of nowhere, if you could just surprise him, lock him up long enough to get to a lifeboat. You could get away.

“Doll, enough games, okay? It's only fun when I want to play, and I really don’t feel like playing with my toys right now.”

He got closer, close enough you decided. You sprang from the bed making a move to pull any number of the knives from his belt. As you grabbed for his waist, you felt a gloved hand wrap itself around your throat and push you against the wall.

“Oh ho ho, you have GOT to be KIDDING.” He laughed hysterically. “I mean wow, honey, I knew you were bold but I didn’t take you for an idiot,” he spat the last insult inches from your face tightening his grip. Your hands flew up to his wrist attempting to loosen the strangling grip he had on you.

His body pressed to yours, his knee slotting itself in the space between your legs. You were fully pinned, unable to move with the full weight of the pirate against you.

That’s when you heard the long knife unsheathe itself from his belt. The sharp metal pushing into your side. Your eyes, once full of defiance, widened to reflect the fear you felt. Your eyebrows pressing together in a pleading look as your lungs burned, the need for air growing stronger.

“Mhmm, I knew I’d like that face on you,” he whispered. “You gonna be a good girl if I let you go?” You nodded slowly, then felt the knife push impossibly further to the flesh of your hip. The nod quickened, your eyes clamping shut, preparing for the worst.

Then, he let you drop. Your hands flying to your throat, bruising surely setting in, as you gasped for air.

“I told you, doll, not in the mood to play,” he said, sheathing the weapon. “I have something I need from you.”

He nodded in the direction of the small table and stools. You hesitantly pulled yourself upright, sharpened gaze never once leaving his larger figure. You were like a mouse in a cage with a snake – look away and you might be his next meal.

You sat across one another as he pulled a map from his coat. His large gloved hands smoothed the cotton-soft paper out in front of you. The candlelight flickered over the page, the night finally setting in, the air growing colder.

The thin slip-like dress you wore did barely enough to retain your modesty. You pulled your arms across your chest, staving off the cold and attempting to cover your chest. Sitting there with him eyeing you across the table, you became more aware of your body and the night air prickling your skin. If he was attracted to your shape, he didn’t show it.

“You know what this is?” he asked.

“A map,” you replied flatly.

He laughed. “Funny, sweetheart. Yeah, your captain knows it’s – .”

“YOU are NOT my captain,” you spat back before he could even finish his sentence.

The smile spread further across his face, “If you aren’t joining my crew then you'll stay my prisoner.”

“Is that what this is about, you want me to join your band of seafaring freaks?” You were picking a fight you knew you couldn’t win. He knew it too.

“I think I made myself very clear but, if you need a little extra explaining, I don’t mind. You did hit that pretty head very hard a few weeks ago.”

“Weeks?” You did your best to keep your voice even as panic began to settle in your chest.

“Your…” it took a moment for him to find the right words, “temperament was difficult to say the least. If I thought getting you on board was hard, oh boy! Talk about keeping you quiet! But, it wasn’t anything a little sleeping powder couldn’t fix.”

He’s cocky, he knew springing this information on you would leave you feeling confused and uncertain. Was every move he made this calculated?

“We all got used to how quiet you were, so much … easier to watch.” His eyes traced up and down your frame. You got your answer, that remark was calculated and so was his decision to finally regard your attire.

He was stronger, he had more weapons at his disposal. The clown capitan knew he could say whatever he wanted, and there was hardly anything you could do about it. But that didn’t stop you from opening your mouth.

“What do you want with me and why the hell am I on your ship?”

All he could do was smile and chuckle in return, “That’s so funny, beautiful, truly. You are so much more entertaining when you're conscious. But, I’m going to need you to stop playing dumb, okay? It’s really starting to piss me off.”

His eyes were getting darker, his words sharpening. You were really starting to wish you knew what he was talking about but, god help you, you had no clue. You couldn’t remember how you got here, and now that you started racking your brain for answers, you realized you couldn’t remember anything about yourself.

Your name? Yes. You knew that. Family? Nothing. Village? A small seaside town, but the details were fuzzy. Who were you before this? You didn’t even know how long you were at sea and now you can’t even remember the basics.

The confusion in your mind began to make itself plain on your face.

“Oh no,” his tone began to change, the grin dropping from his face. “No no no no no -- you really don’t know do you?”

You looked up and saw his expression contorted between realization and anger. “SHIT! No! Gah! This was not supposed to happen this way! God fucking DAMN IT!”

He pushed himself up from the table with a fury, and something you’d never seen him carry before, frustration. Up until now, the blue haired man had acted with such a confident air, but now, it seemed like everything was falling apart. You made no move to speak, just watched as he paced the room spitting various curses into the empty space.

Then he finally turned to you, slowly on his heels. “No, you know what, this is fine.” He smiled, collecting himself. “All of this is just fine.” He began to stalk toward you.

“You’re here, on my ship, and that is alllllll that matters right now.” He placed both hands down on the table in front of you, leaning over the map and getting dangerously close to your face.

“We will just have to work through this little hiccup together. Huh? What do you say?”

“You can go to hell. I don’t know anything about this map, or what you need from me. Any information you're looking for is gone because your moronic sideshow and its excessive force scrambled any memories I had,” you spat.

“Okay gorgeous,” his emerald eyes not breaking contact with your (e/c). “Suit yourself.”

His tactics weren’t working, he knew it. It was time to change the game. Play from a different angle. You didn’t remember who you were, what you were, he’d help you remember, and maybe add a few memories into the mix. The mind was a fragile place, its chemistry could be changed so easily. Enough of the fear and frustration, it’s always easier to attract flies with honey than with vinegar.

#buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy opla #buggy the clown #captain buggy #buggy X y/n #buggy fanfic #op buggy #buggy d clown #one piece buggy #buggy one piece #buggy smut #stole the moon

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scoonsalicious · 29 days

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 22, Untold - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Pocket committing humourous and harmless crime, me not knowing how police stations work.

Word Count: 972

Previously On...: You and Tony tried to sheer some sheep. Now it looks like the cops are headed your way.

A/N: Listen, I am too proud of the headline that Tony makes up. Too proud. Also, at the very end, they say the things for the first time! XD

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

“How many times do I have to tell you,” you told the officer who was questioning you, “we weren’t trying to steal the sheep, we were just trying to shear them.” You and Tony had been brought to the local police station and informed you were both going to be charged with trespassing, attempted theft, and criminal mischief. They’d separated the two of you, and you were doing your damned best to make sure that they at least dropped the attempted theft charge. “I demand to see the criminal statute that makes that illegal,” you said.

The officer rubbed his face with his hand. You’d been at this for awhile now, and it was obvious he regretted getting stuck with you.

The door to the interrogation room swung open, and another cop stuck his head in. “Jones,” he said, addressing the officer, “her lawyer’s here. We gotta cut her loose.” Lawyer? You didn’t have a lawyer. You couldn’t fucking afford a lawyer.

The other cop motioned for you to exit the interrogation room, which you did happily, and quickly, not wanting to spend another minute more in there than you had to. In the lobby, you saw Tony quietly speaking to a gray-haired gentleman.

“Ah, (Y/N),” he said when he saw you approach. “This is my attorney, Mr. Mitchell. He’s going to be representing the both of us over this little misunderstanding.”

You shook hands with the lawyer, but said “I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to utilize your services, Mr. Mitchell. I’m pretty sure they have to provide me with an attorney, as I most certainly cannot afford one.”

Tony scoffed at that. “Please. I got you into this, the least I can do is make sure you’ve got legal counsel.”

His words took you aback. You were so unaccustomed to having someone do something kind for you (even if, technically, the entire endeavor had been his idea) without expecting something in return.

“I’m not going to sleep with you in exchange for a lawyer, Tony,” you said.

Tony looked offended. “No offense, but you’re way too young for me. Besides, I don’t need to get girls a lawyer to get them to sleep with me, thank you very much.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mr. Mitchell said with an awkward cough, “I need to speak to the desk sergeant about finalizing your bail. The older man walked off, leaving you and Tony alone.

“Sorry about that,” you murmured. “I guess I’m just not used to people doing nice things for me without wanting something in exchange.”

Tony studied you. “You strike me as a girl who’s had to grow up pretty quickly,” he said. His voice wasn’t pitying, but it was sad. You just shrugged.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “the press will have a field day with this. I can see the headline now: ‘From Billionaire to Baaaaad Boy: Playful Playboy Arrested in Woolly Misadventure’.”

You snorted at that. “I can make sure they never hear about it,” you said.

Tony cocked his head at you. “Oh, you can, can you?” he asked.

You glanced over to where the precinct’s receptionist sat at her computer. “Can you cause a distraction? Get her away from that terminal for about five minutes?”

Tony brought a hand to his chin. “Like taking candy from a baby,” he said. He sauntered up to the receptionist and slammed his hand down on the counter, causing her to jump.

“Excuse me!” he shouted at her. “I demand to speak to your superior officer! I have never been treated so disrespectfully in my life!”

The receptionist blanched. “I’m sorry sir, but if you have a complaint, you can fill out–”

“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” Tony shouted. “I demand you take me to your superior officer this instant, or I will have your job!”

The poor woman was frazzled as she led Tony back into the bowels of the precinct. As soon as they were out of sight, you ran around the counter to the terminal. It was only a matter of moments before you were able to locate the files for you and Tony, and with a few quick keystrokes, you had deleted them as though they never existed.

You quickly checked the pile of paper files waiting to be sorted, locating the case files for both you and Tony. Checking to make sure the receptionist and Tony weren’t yet on their way back, you stuffed them down into the very bottom of the public trash can before running back to stand exactly where Tony had left you.

In a few more moments, Tony and Mr. Mitchell came out from the back of the station together.

“Well, that was quite fortuitous,” Mr. Mitchell said. “It appears that there was some sort of computer error and your charges were erased from the system.” You avoided Tony’s glance at you as Mr. Mitchell continued. “The desk sergeant has agreed to contact me once they’ve re-entered the information from the paper files. For now, you’re both free to go. Tony,” he shook Stark’s hand, “always a pleasure. And Ms. (Y/L/N),” you shook his offered hand. “It was lovely to meet you.”

“You, too, Mr. Mitchell,” you said. “And thank you so much.”

You and Tony followed the lawyer out, and as Tony started the Audi to begin your drive back to Boston, he turned to look at you.

“So, Kiddo,” he said, having learned you were just nineteen from your police intake, “how would you like a job?”

You stared at him, eyes wide. “Are you serious?” you asked. There was no way he was serious. An offer like this could change the trajectory of your entire life.

“Like a heart attack,” he said.

You grinned at him. “When do I start, Boss?”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

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Dirty Work 19

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: in the words of Miley, we won't stop.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stare at the mirror, at the woman you don’t know. The faucet runs as you’re tempted to splash the water over your face and wash away the stranger. As another diner enters, you twist off the tap and shake off the trance. You grab a strip of paper towel and dry your hands, tossing it before you exit.

The interior of the restaurant is just as pleasant as the outside. The back wall has flowers and vines painted across it as all the others stand it bright pure white. The tables are thick wood and edged with matching benches and chairs. You’d almost rather be inside than out.

As you come outside, the sun glares in your outline. You approach the archway that opens onto the patio and stop short as another figure meets you there. The new arrival is only a tall silhouette as the daylight stands at their back.

“Pardon, ladies fir–” The nicety is swallowed down halfway and your name bubbles up in its place. You don’t recall Mr. Laufeyson even saying your name; it was always ‘maid’ or nothing else. “Ah, there you are.”

Silence. The light limning his figure shifts and he comes clearer. His sights narrow as he considers you and he runs a hand down his lapel. His lips part slightly as if he means to say something but his teeth snap shut at second thought. He flutters his fingers, speechless and you wilt. You know you look silly, like a little girl wearing her mother’s pearls.

“Uh, Mr. Laufeyson,” you address him awkwardly and glance around. You can feel him staring as you clutch the seams of the dress and rock on the balls of your feet, “we… we’re just over there.”

You point through the archway then follow the gesture. You step through as he follows, his soles softly touching the boards of the patio. You pull your fingers from around the fabric and ball your hands to fist.

As you near the table, he gets closer. You can feel him looming as a growl grits from his throat; ‘what is he…’ He doesn’t finish the question and instead clears his throat.

“Allow me,” he goes to step forward as your eyes meet Frigga’s glittering green irises and Thor cranes to follow her gaze. He stands as you close in, waving away Laufeyson’s reach as he grips the back of your chair.

“Lady,” Thor bows his head gallantly, “we were worried you got lost, rather you’ve found my brother.”

“I might have this seat,” Loki insists before you can sit, “why don’t you sit with my mother?”

“She’s fine as she is,” Frigga insists, “all her things are there.”

Your barely touched cranberry juice weeps in the tall glass and the shopping bags clutter under that side of the table. You peek at Mr. Laufeyson but only get a glimpse of his throat as it tightens. You quickly put your head down and sidle around to sit in the chair. Thor pushes it in under you.

“Well, sit, we’ve been waiting,” Thor insists as he draws his hand away to clap his brother’s shoulder. You only catch a sliver of Laufeyson shrugging him off before stomping around to the empty seat. “We’re starving.”

“And what is he doing here?” Laufeyson asks his mother as he ignores his brother.

“Loki,” she reaches to touch his sleeve, “please, you two are too old for this.”

“For what? You didn’t tell me he was coming. It’s only decent–”

“Brother, please,” Thor leans forward as he clasps his large hands together, “I’ve come to make amends. I’m not too sure what I’ve done, but whatever happened at father’s, I never meant to drive you out.”

Laufeyson lashes Thor with a venomous look. His jaw ticks and his cheek twitches. He's about to boil over, as if the apology is an insult in itself. He takes a breath and lets it out, unlocking his jaw.

“I apologise for keeping you all waiting,” Laufeyson evades a direct response, his eyes flitting over to you, “I lost track of time.”

Your eyes cling to his as the tension drains from his brow and he tilts his head slightly. Again, he seems as if he means to say something, and unlike himself, he restrains his thoughts. He looks down at the waiting menu and you do the same. You imagine there will be a lecture for overextending his mother’s generosity.

As you peruse the selection, a tense silence invades the table. You all focus on the listings, a necessary distraction. As you keep your eyes on the menu, hiding from the other diners, you feel a tickle along the side of your leg.

Thor’s hand rests on his thigh, knuckles pressing against yours as he sits wide on the seat. You try to ignore the touch, assuming it's unintentional and focus on the menu. He slowly shifts and turns his hand, brushing his fingertips along your skirt. You squirm and bend your leg over the other to elude him.

You settle on a simple dish; caprese on a croissant. You sit up and reach for your drink, Thor’s hand lingering on the edge of your chair. What is he doing?

Your ears are alight and you feel the sweet about to break through on your forehead. You sip and your eyes meet another pair. Laufeyson has a finger pressed to the menu but he’s unbothered by its contents. He’s watching you.

You bite your cheek and put your glass down. There’s a sheen of gloss left on the rim. You take the folded cloth napkin and dab your around mouth, paranoid of a smear. You ring the fabric as you lower it to your lap and glance over at Thor’s tapping fingers, crawling closer yet again.

The table jolts suddenly. Frigga gasps and Thor grunts. He sits up and rescinds his hand, his attention flashing across to his brother. The two glare at each other.

“Apologies,” Laufeyson makes a show of rubbing his thigh, “I had a cramp. Did I get your toe?”

“Eh, it’s fine,” Thor grumbles, his thumb circling against the side of his knuckle.

“You two,” Frigga tuts, “please, you’re making a scene.”

“It was an accident,” Laufeyson insists, “I was in a car for far too long and now my muscles are all knotted.”

“I keep telling you, you need a proper regiment,” Thor intones, a taunt in his tone, “at our age, we need to stay active.”

“I’m active,” the black-haired brother rolls his eyes, “don’t presume you know anything about me or my life.”

“Hm, your house may be big but roving the halls like a ghost isn’t exercise,” the blond chortles.

Laufeyson huffs and shakes his head. He returns his attention to the menu as you stare at the table. You don’t quite understand. You don’t have siblings so you don’t know where this kind of animosity would come from. While your dad isn’t entirely loving, you know why he is the way he is.

But these two, they have everything anyone could ever want and they only seem bitter. They have a family, they have wealth and all that comes with it. All that and they expect even more.

“You know, Loki, it would do you well to get out more,” Frigga suggests, “it’s a lovely house but so… grim, these days. Perhaps you might consider an update. That might help–”

“I get out,” Laufeyson insists, “please, have I only been invited to be lectured?”

“Well, darling,” Frigga squeezes his elbow, “we didn’t see you for a whole year after the divorce. We worry–”

“Don’t,” he commands, “I’m fine. The divorce is well past done. I’m over it, so why can’t you move on?”

“Ah, but it is hard to get over a lady like Sif–”

“Shut up!” Laufeyson snaps at his brother, “don’t–”

“Loki,” Frigga girds, “please.”

“No, I do not want his opinion on my wife. On my marriage. Can we stop beating this dead horse, already?”

You make yourself as small as you can. You shouldn’t be there. You’re hearing things you have now business knowing. You look around and the image of running out of the restaurant glints through your mind. It’s tempting even if it would be a bit insane.

“So let’s talk about something else,” Laufeyson sighs, “how was your day, mother? You two seem to have been quite successful.”

“I’d say,” Thor agrees as you feel him look at you.

“Oh, it was wonderful. Eliana took care of us, isn’t her hair lovely?” Frigga preens, “and she’s such a sweet girl, isn’t she? Everything looks so lovely on her. Dear, didn’t you have a good day?”

You gulp and peek up. You pick your nail and nod, “yes. Thank you. It was… very nice of you to include me.”

“Ah, she is so polite,” Thor booms as his hand once more goes to the back of your chair. “How do you put up with him, sweetheart?”

You frown and shake your head, “huh?”

“My brother? How can you do it?”

“She is rather adept at her work,” Laufeyson sneers, “I am the least of her tasks.”

“I wasn’t asking you, was I?” His brother retorts.

“I… I do my job,” you press your palms flat to each other.

“I’d call him hard work, indeed,” Thor guffaws.

“Thor,” Frigga hisses, “be nice.”

“I am,” Thor says defensively, “I kid. Gods, it isn’t my fault he cannot take a joke–”

He grips the chair as he lets his thumb stroke the back of your collar. You sit forward slightly, wiggling to the edge of the chair. You bring your hands to hug your glass. Laufeyson fidgets with the cutlery wrapped in a napkin.

“Jokes are usually funny,” Laufeyson utters and shifts in his seat, “where is the damn waiter?”

👠

No words are exchanged as you approach the car. Mr. Laufeyson is particularly dour as he opens the door for his mother, then you. He sweeps around to claim the driver’s seat and turns the engine so it whirs softly. He steers out into the lull of traffic, twisting his hand on the leather wrapped wheel.

“That was a lovely lunch,” Frigga breaks the frigid sheet of silence, “wasn’t it?”

“Food was good,” Laufeyson agrees.

She exhales as you shrink down, hoping to blend in with the shopping bags.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “I thought you two could make up. After what happened–”

“Mother,” Laufeyson breathes and his eyes glance in the mirror, “we’ll talk about this later.”

“And what about your father?” She prompts.

“I said, later.”

“Mm, yes, sorry, darling,” she apologises again, “why don’t you leave me off at the house and take her home? It’s been a long day.”

“It’s only four-thirty,” he replies.

“Yes, well, we did a lot of running around. I’m certain the darling could use some time. She has her father to worry about.”

“It’s alright, I don’t–”

“No, no, you’re right, mother, it has been a very long day already,” Laufeyson interjects.

You clamp your mouth shut. You’re a marionette being pulled between their strings. It’s not about what you want. You’re not heard. They take you out and put you away like a toy.

“Dear,” Frigga chimes, “thank you so much for today. I had a lovely time.”

You don’t realise at first she means you, not until Laufeyson says your name. Again. Maid. Call me maid, that’s all I am.

“Oh, no, thank you, Frigga,” you say, “it was really nice of you to bring me. I…it’s really too much.”

“Not enough, dear, not enough. I hope the next time I’m in town, we might have another day out,” she trills.

“If you like,” you concede.

The rear view mirror stares back at you. Laufeyson’s snakish gaze makes you squirm as he idles at a light. Have you said the wrong thing? A honk comes from behind him as the light turns green and he quickly presses on the gas.

You sink back into silence, this one airier. You watch out the window as the car rolls through the streets and you take it all in. You’ve lived in this city your whole life and you haven’t seen half of it.

He arrives at his gates and opens the gate with the switch clipped behind the rear view mirror. He drives through and the doors unlock loudly. Frigga gets out and he does the same as he helps her sort through the bags on the other side of the back seat.

You’re startled as Laufeyson bends to peer through, saying your name a third time. You flinch and look at him as he holds a cluster of bags.

“I’ll be only a moment to get mother settled,” he explains, “feel free to move to the front.”

He closes the door and leaves you to mull his unprompted explanations. You could stay as you are but that feels weird. He would be like a chauffeur or taxi driver. That’s awkward and you’re already torturously strange.

You let yourself out of the car and slide into the front seat. Frigga’s perfume clings to the suede as you pull the seat belt down. You watch the leaves of a lush tree rustle as you wait. As the driver’s side opens, you let out a squeak.

Laufeyson swings inside and pulls the door shut. He adjusts himself as he fits his long legs under the wheel and grasps the wheel with one hand. You turn your head straight and stare off at the house’s facade.

“Thank you for driving me, Mr. Laufeyson,” you murmur.

“Mm, it is no issue,” he assures as he slowly shifts into gear, the car lazily following the arc of the driveway back to the gate.

You flick your thumb nervously against your index. Your foot wiggles and your knee jitters. You can’t sit still.

“I hadn’t a chance to mention…” he begins, pausing to consider his words, “you…” he leans forward to look both ways before continuing onto the avenue, “you look very… nice.”

“Oh,” you still yourself and focus on the dash, “thank you, Mr. Laufeyson. You’re mother’s a very kind woman.”

“She is,” he says, “I… I knew she would know best.”

“Um, if it’s too much, erm, you can take the clothes back–”

“Nonsense, keep them. They are for your work,” he rebuffs coolly.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

He doesn’t reply. Only sighs. You carry on without speaking. You wouldn’t want to distract him from driving. You're still waiting for that lecture. You steel yourself for the words; ungrateful, selfish, lazy...

The car grows suffocating. He pulls into your neighbourhood and slows before your house. You swiftly hit the button on the seat belt, ready to run inside.

“I could help with your bags,” he offers.

“N-no, Mr. Laufeyson, that’s… okay,” you say a bit too quickly. You wouldn’t want him to see more than he already has. Besides, your father was never fond of visitors. “Thanks.”

“Right, yes,” he accepts, “regular hours tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Hm,” he hums but does not comment. He sounds almost disappointed.

“Have a good night,” you say as you climb out of the car.

“You too,” he mutters so quietly you’re not even sure he truly spoke.

You open the back door and gather up the remaining bags. It’s awkward as you slide them out with a loud crinkle. It feels unearned.

“You know,” he turns, his hand on the headrest of the passenger’s seat, “I did tell you a dozen times about the clothes.” He looks you up and down, “much better.”

He unhooks his arm from the seat and turns back to face the windshield. You nod, struck dumb and mute, and elbow the door shut. You turn and head down the overgrown walk and climb the creaky steps of your father’s porch. You pause at the top and glance back as the car remains unmoved.

Through the tint, you can see Mr. Laufeyson’s shadow. It looks almost as if he has his head on the steering wheel, gripping it as he hunches forward. The light must be playing tricks on you. You turn and continue on to the front door.

You hesitate to enter as the dingy siding feels you with guilt. Here you are with a handful of shopping and a belly full of gourmet food. Don’t forget where you come from, it’s where you’ll always be. Fancy clothes or not.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor

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oliviajdjarin · 1 year

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Din Djarin: Bright and Shiny

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (she/her)

Excerpt: “Do you like It?” he whispered, and you swore you were dreaming. You had pictured him like this so many times—so many times—but it was real. This was fucking real and you were fucking on fire.”

“Yes,” you said, breathily. “I do.”

You were locked on his helmet so badly that you didn’t see his right hand creeping up to frame your face with it. Holding your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, forcing you to focus on his face.

“What do you like about it?”

Warnings: smut smut smut and more smut (me writing a dom man?), with softness at the end. The Crest is aliveee. Grogu isn’t here yet.

A/N: Happy Dincember everyone, aka my absolute favorite tumblr tradition. To all the authors updating prompts every day…are you Gods?

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be very appreciated <3

Pedro Masterlist

There was no bigger hypocrite in the galaxy than the infamous Mandalorian.

Blood-crusted beskar coated the majority of his body every time he placed his feet on solid ground—every time— in addition to the metaphorical armor that was his demeanor. Solid, unbreakable, stern, terrifying.

It was not until you had spent a few months as his “partner” at the Guild, thus living together on his quickly crumbling Razor Crest, that you were met with his true doctrine of hypocrisy.

It was as if every time he elected to remove a piece of his armor for you, he knocked down one of his walls. First was the night he removed the small shoulder and shin pieces, the same night he elected to crack his first joke. Next was the dark-browned chest, sharing with you that he was a foundling in his Covert. Then the belt, covered in more weapons and weight than you had ever seen, and he told the story of his first kill. Then the wrists, along with the story of his toughest kill. The one that haunted him as he attempted to fall asleep at night. Then his gloves, with the story of the first woman he had ever fell in love with.

“You remind me of her,” he had said to you, “except you have actually stayed.” He had said the last part quickly before immediately exiting the pit to hide in his “room” for a few hours.

You remained in your copilot seat, staring off into the stars of hyperspace, unable to think at all.

Slowly—very slowly— the Mandalorian had revealed more and more of his true self to you. The one who would sneakily hum around the Crest, make sure to turn your heated blanket on early on cold nights, and always—always—avoid spiced food like the plague.

“It upsets my stomach,” he had defended, and you scoffed in return.

After such long travel-times on jobs, you would get so used to the softness of his true personality that when he would have to put his armor back on—literally and figuratively— you almost felt like you were looking and speaking to a different person.

The heat in your lower stomach felt that way too.

It flared when he was soft, but the switch from the man you knew to the Mandalorian always reminded you both of when you first met him and what he was truly capable of.

Plus, seeing the width of his shoulders accentuated by the most expensive and impenetrable metal known to man was not bad either.

You had been sitting at the usual meeting spot with Greef, ready to discuss the dozen pucks already sitting in front of you. You were still due for a new job after the boat-load of beskar given to you for the little green baby— which definitely was not still on your conscious— and Mando was running a bit late due to the crafting of his new armor. You waited anxiously to see the results.

“I have never held this much in my own hands before,” he had said to you, and you beamed up at him as he spoke. “This will likely be enough for an entirely new set.”

You had no idea how right he was.

You sat at the booth with Greef, making pleasant enough conversation, but mostly daydreaming of what Mando was seeing, feeling, touching. The pleasure to watch his own armor be crafted by hand, you could not even imagine what that would be like.

You took a sip of your drink—one that Greef had been so gracious to buy for you—and let it burn as you set it down on the sticky wooden table. As soon as the glass touched the wood, the entire cantina silenced, and all eyes went to the entrance. Your eyes followed the crowd’s, unable to see for certain what everyone was looking at.

It only took a few seconds for you to realize that the “what” was actually a “who,” and that “who” was the kindest man you had ever known wrapped in wealth, power, and impenetrability.

It was a good thing you had set your drink down, because it would have dropped to the floor, shattering into millions of pieces, because he was the sexist thing you had ever laid your eyes on.

This was the Mandalorian.

You thought his previous armor was intimidating—small shoulder pieces, a wide chest piece, and even wider thigh pieces. He was both a distraction to you and a threat to everyone else in that armor.

But now, now he fully covered, head to toe, in shimmering silver. His waist the tiniest you had seen it, with his shoulders as wide as they had ever looked. Almost the entirety of his legs were covered now, and even his helmet gleamed and glistened in the light. He walked straighter, stood taller, and stepped slower. Like he was enjoying this.

He had never looked more lethal, and with all of the eyes on him, his own were on you.

You stared back at him as he made his way, mouth slightly parted, and legs squeezing tighter and tighter together with each step he took. The typical slight steam in your stomach at the sight of him was now boiling hot, running through the blood in your body faster than you could process. The lack of blood flow to your brain caused it to wipe itself clean and focus solely on the warrior in front of you. Your hands began to shake and your mouth parched.

You were speechless. A deadly bounty hunter stunned speechless.

He said nothing as he scooched his way into the booth, and you remained looking at him even when his body was turned towards Greef.

“I want my next job,” he said.

Greef said something, something witty, but you didn’t hear it. Couldn’t hear it.

“I want my next job,” Mando repeated. Amban rifle in his lap, leaning slightly forward.

Holy fuck the heat in you.

He grabbed a puck and began walking out, turning back to signal you to follow. You stood slowly, thanked Greef, and exited the Cantina, eyes locked on the expanse of his back the entire walk to the Crest.

~*~

It wasn’t two seconds after Mando put the security lock on the Crest that he had you cornered with his words.

“Is something the matter?” he asked, taking a step closer to you. You were both in the cock pit, ready to take off, and you were standing in front of the controls.

“No,” you said, meeting his gaze as fiercely as you could. Your hands were glued to your sides and your fists squeezed so hard they stung.

“Okay,” he said, so fucking softly it hurt you. He was still making his way closer to you, forcing you to look up.

“Okay,” you responded, and you thought that was it. He would back off.

But your fucking eyes betrayed you, darting down to the expanse of his body, and he laughed.

“Do you like It?” he whispered, and you swore you were dreaming. You had pictured him like this so many times—so many times—but it was real. This was fucking real and you were fucking on fire.

“Yes,” you said, breathily. “I do.”

“What do you like about it?”

You could barely breathe enough to respond. Your throat instantly dried, and every word of any language was lifted from you.

“I—I like—” you started, swallowing “—I like the chest.”

“The chest,” he said, bringing your hand up to the cold metal. “What about it?”

You traced your fingers down it, still forced to look up at him by his leather glove. “I like how wide it makes you. How powerful.”

He stood there in silence before asking, “what else?”

“The legs,” you whispered. “I really like the legs.”

He nearly growled. “Why Y/N? Tell me.”

Your name on his lips at this stage of the game was too much.

“It makes them look big. Strong,” you said, heart in your throat. “I like that.”

He softened his grip on your face and moved his hand to the back of your neck. “I know you do.” He then tapped twice on his helmet. “Heat signature.”

Your face fell and paled.

How long had he—

“I’ve known since the first day I met you,” he said, massaging your neck. “Just never knew how to bring it up.”

“Why now?” you whispered, voice deep from the pleasure of his fingers.

“Because this is the strongest it’s ever been for you,” he replied. “And for me. Seeing you watching me like that…”

He brought his hand back to frame your face.

“…I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than you in that moment.”

He started pulling you forward by your face.

“And now i have you, don’t I?”

Yes he did, so much of you, parts of you you didn’t even know about before him.

“Yes.”

He let go of you and sat in the pilot’s seat, spreading his legs.

“So ruin me, Y/N. Ruin this bright and shiny armor.”

You practically jumped on him.

You immediately mounted him, wrapping your hands around his shoulders, and felt all around the metal. Your breaths fogged up his helmet as you did, practically moaning at the chance to finally feel the expanse of his body. He kept his hands firmly on your hips, watching your face as you panted and whined in his.

After a few moments he picked you up and sat you on his right thigh.

“Go on.”

You immediately rolled your hips, fully moaning at the feeling, and rolled them faster and faster and deeper and deeper.

Your head began tipping back as the metal ground against your clit perfectly, but Mando pulled your face forward to rest your forehead on his.

“Mando—”

“It’s Din,” he said firmly, squeezing your hips enough to bruise. “Say it.”

You rolled your hips over and over, desperation dripping off your voice. “Din.”

It was then that he released a moan, ripped your pants and underwear off of you, and took control of your hips on his thigh. He placed you down just right and tears coated your eyes, sweat poured from your pours, and with one inch of incline from his leg, you shattered.

Your forehead fell against his, panting and whining “Din” over and over again as he kept you moving on him through your orgasm. You felt yourself drip down onto the floor and run down his legs, and your eyes rolled at the thought.

You held onto the fabric around his neck for dear life, gathering as much breath as you could, and Din just let you.

It was then that he started to feel you up.

He moved from your hips to your bare thighs, back up to your clothed breasts, then to your face to brush back your hair, and finally back down to your thighs. He gathered your drip from his thigh onto his leather glove. He brought it underneath his helmet, and your mouth dropped open.

He sucked it slowly, not making any noise except a slight groan. “I knew I was right.”

You swallowed, still panting in both exhaustion and shock. “Right?”

“I knew every part of you was perfect.”

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you smiled nice and wide. You had a feeling he was smiling too.

It was this sense of elation and euphoria that gave you the freedom not to think before sliding your hand over his hardened bulge and raising your eyebrows in question.

He chuckled, which somehow melted you more than anything he had done previously.

“Not right now,” he said sweetly, and pulled you into his chest. You cozied up into him before he slowly lifted you, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t think I’d last two seconds.”

You smiled, humming. “Okay Din.”

His body tensed a bit when you said that, and you wondered if you crossed some sort of boundary, but he continued on his way to his bed. He set you in It, wrapping you in his sheets, and grabbing a towel to clean you off. You got a good show of yourself stained and running all over his thigh and nearly jumped on him again.

“Like I said,” he countered, likely picking up on the change in your temperature, “I wouldn’t last two seconds.”

You nodded with a smile and he took the towel to the laundry room before returning to you, sitting on the side of the bed.

“Get some rest,” he said. “We have a job to do in the morning.”

He stood, making his way back to the cockpit, but you called out to him.

“Mando, wait,” you said, and he froze before slowly turning back around. “Are we okay? Was that…okay?”

He paused, leaning himself into the doorway, sighing as always, and said, “Y/N, I wouldn’t trade the world for the last hour I’ve had with you.”

You enjoyed this forward, talkative Din much more than you anticipated to.

“And call me Din,” he said. “Please.”

He then left you, starting up the Crest to make its way to hyperspace, and you drifted slowly into sleep, still on a high. You finally fell asleep to the feeling of a warm body wrapping itself around you, and a deep voice whispering in your ear, “We’re okay, Y/N. We’re okay.”

Tag list: (I apologize if your tag is not present/not working. Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@leahkenobi @cityofidek @burned-dorito @tiredbuthappy @punkiwiki @lovesbiggerthanpride @darth-voder @samanthacookieone @torchbearerkyle @stardust-galaxies @c4psicles-blog @joelsflannel @mysun-n-stars @tateelii @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @thesmutslut @alastorhazbin @grincheveryday @martinsmomo @letaliabane @cathenan @big-ol-boat @niiight-dreamerr @jezebel1945 @call-me-doll-face @yelyahcardella @letskeepthislo-ki @misspearly1 @petals-opento-the-moon @just-a-sewer-goblin @em---r @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @thesmutslut @alastorhazbin @grincheveryday @reader8679

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sanjisprincesswifey · 5 months

Note

I’m so excited for this event I love Christmas! ❤️ Can I request Sanji, Ace or Zoro with an afab!reader? Thank you! 🎁

i love christmas too, thank you for participating! :)

you’ve received zoro + getting each other for secret santa

❆ : dorky, clueless, and in love zoro, no gender implied but reader is staying in the same room as nami and robin, 600+ words!

shit, shit, shit.

zoro knew he’d get in huge trouble if anyone caught him in here. sure,

if it was you or robin all you’d get was a stern talking to and had it been nami, a pretty good beating and a fine, that was doable. but if any of the guys caught him he’d be labeled pervert till the end of time and he could not live with being teased by sanji for that long.

right now he’s dug deep into your closet, riffling through scattered clothing items and old shoe boxes, nothing helpful.

when he hesitantly agreed to participate in the crew’s secret santa, he didn’t think it would cause him so much stress.

there was eight other names he could’ve drawn, but luck was not in zoro’s favor today when he chose yours.

he didn’t really know you, if he was being honest. he didn’t want to; well…it’s more like he was afraid to.

getting to know you, close to you, meant that he would have to admit how he felt.

admit that the sliver of personality he found himself seeking was enough to drive him insane. how knowing you for the few months you had been aboard the sunny you had unearthed a new feeling, a strange, complicated, fuzzy feeling that he strangely enjoyed.

he rifles through boxes of old photos, childhood items you brought with you, nothing really clueing him in about your interests.

as he hunches over your desk drawers, he notices a familiar piece of paper. he recognized the material from usopp’s sketch book, it was unmistakable. unfolding the page, he scans over the drawing with wide eyes.

both his and your image is illustrated on the page, an unmistakable blush colored your cheeks as doodle him smiled so brightly at you. it was strange to see his features detailed this way, he doesn't even remember being so happy.

unless...

the day flashes back through his mind; it was one of the first times he realized how severe his feelings had grown to be.

you two were resting on the mast of the sunny together, zoro was teasing sanji per usual and you just happened to join in. when he listened to your soft giggles escape your lips, attempting to hold yourself back as sanji’s rage increased, zoro found a new, more enticing reason to tease the cook.

usopp must’ve happened to witness the whole event, enough to capture the image in his sketch book, at least.

“nami?”

your voice breaks the silence in the room, immediately jolting zoro’s body as he attempts to put the drawing back exactly where it had been.

as your footsteps ascend from down the hall, he begins to panic, searching for any place to hide in the room.

“zoro? what’re you doing in here?” you question, glancing around the room noticing your side had become noticeably disheveled from when you left it this morning.

his mouth runs dry as he tries to think of any excuse that could save him right now. “you see, luffy, he, uh—“

“were you searching through my stuff?”

you step towards him, causing him to back up until he reaches the desk he was once inspecting. the items on top rattle as his large body collides with them as you stand merely inches away from him.

“and why do you seem so nervous?” you smirk, dragging a finger up his stiffened arm until you reach underneath his chin.

he can’t seem to look away from you as you glance up at him through your lashes.

“i, uh—i got to go, sorry,” he screeches, somehow slipping out from your body and darting for the door.

you giggle to yourself, noticing the ajar drawer in your desk. you collect the piece of paper he was mesmerized by before, smiling back towards his exit.

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! (✿◠‿◠)

#roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #one piece #one piece x reader

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dilfartist · 5 months

Note

May I request a Part 3 for the Leon las plagas fic?? It's just so!!! Exciting!! How reader reacts to the pregnancy? Weird side effects??? Does Leon's aggression turn into more smothering affection? Do the scientists conduct physical tests on reader (how does Leon react to that??? Does he have to be restrained? Is he present?) Her thoughts as shes kept in relative isolation? Does she bond with the baby she's carrying (talking to the bump, playing games)?

Missed - short (pt.3)

Pairing; Yandere Las Plagas Leon Kennedy x reader

Synopsis; Visiting Leon after your check-up

Reader description; Female/GN

Edited: No, Yes

Word count; 1k

TW; kidnapping, forced pregnancy, SA mentioned.

Notes; {Last part! Also, very sorry if this isn’t a good ending just wanted to post something to get me into writing again.}

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!

“Mrs.(Last name), your breakfast is ready.”

The radiant lights flick on, nearly blinding you despite the dark blanket covering your face, gaining an irked groan from you. It takes an effort to lift yourself, the additional weight in your abdomen making it a laborious act. “What is It?” you utter, voice raspy.

A Nurse enters the room. She hauls in a full tray of food. Providing you with a polite smile, she set the tray on your blanketed lap. “This morning we made you: pancakes, bacon, and eggs; just as you requested yesterday.” You nod showing acknowledgment, returning her polite smile. “After you eat, we’ll start with your check-up. Okay?” you nod once again and she takes her queue to exit.

It’s been four prolonged months since you conceived the baby, or what the scientists declare “experiment 12,”. While your time staying here hasn’t been the best it’s beginning to feel like your new life.

You follow a schedule: first breakfast, then a check-up, maybe a meeting with Leon, and whatever else happens throughout the day.

The food here is okay. Truth be told you wish you could have a burger, maybe even convince one of the workers to stop by a fast food joint. Unfortunately, the scientists prefer for you to eat what they provide and only what they provide. Some day you’ll convince them the baby wants it. Maybe then they’ll get it.

“Let’s get this over with,” you mumble to yourself. You get out of bed and head over to your wardrobe, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a random comfortable shirt. It was nice of them to bring your clothes from home, they were way more comfortable than what they had suggested you wear at first.

“I’m ready,” you call out, knowing they are watching you from the other side of the glass. A doctor enters the room clutching a pen and clipboard. She pushes in a cart of medical supplies, “Hello, Mrs. (last name),” she sings, “How’s you and the baby?” She sits on the chair adjacent to your bed, patting the edge to encourage you to sit as well.

“We’re fine.” you groan, lifting your body up to take a seat beside her on the bed.

“Hm, still no out-of-the-ordinary cravings for pregnancy - no pains?”

“No, still none.” you sighed, looking down at your pregnant ample belly.

Throughout your pregnancy, everything seemed to be normal. You had the same cravings as any other woman, the normal discomforts as other pregnant women- everything appeared expected for a pregnant woman. It provoked worry from both you and the scientists. The normalcy in the pregnancy could lead to an abnormally painful birth or an abnormally formed baby; as hypothesized by the scientists.

You look up to see her documenting the given information on her clipboard. “I’m still allowed to see Leon, right?” you inquire, tone a bit desperate. She glances up from her paper and smiles at you, “Yup! After we’re done, I’ll take you to his chambers.” She clicks her pen and the blue ink tip withdrawals. Putting away the pencil, she pulls out the medical supplies and begins to examine you.

She runs a couple of tests which take about twenty minutes. Then she gets to your belly; gently she touches around the round flesh, her fingertips slightly poking at you not enough to earn your discomfort. You watch as her brows begin to furrow slightly, growing in intensity after every couple of seconds that her hands explore your belly. From your point of view, it’s like she’s checking a fleshy watermelon, gently shaking and poking at it.

After a while of poking and rubbing you like a crystal ball, she holds your stomach for a minute, and her eyes widen slightly. She bends down and lifts your stomach.

“I finally found something anomalous,” she says triumphantly, a smug grin spreading on her face as she perks up at you. You peer down at her, curiously attempting to look at yourself but ultimately failing due to your belly’s size. “What? What is it?”

She stands tall pulling off her blue gloves. “Your stomach is heavier than a normal pregnant woman’s.” She ambles to the trash can by the door and disregards the gloves. “I don’t know why I haven’t noticed it before- maybe this happened overnight or something.” She shrugs.

Now that you consider it, you have noticed other pregnant women don’t find normal tasks as difficult as you do. Well, they obviously do find it hard- you meant from what you’ve been told by the doctors. Usually, women rate their pain as a five or six. You’d rate your pain as a seven or eight in recent days.

Instinctively, you began to caress your stomach. How bad would it hurt during the birth procedure? Wouldn’t the heavier the abdomen mean the heavier the baby? Your eyes widen and suck in a quivering breath. She takes notice of the change in mood, asking what’s the matter. You explain to her your concerns resulting in her chuckling, “There is a possibility of the birth being a bit hard, but I assure you, you’ll be in good hands.”

She leads you out of your room where two security officers are awaiting your arrival. They greet you with a nod of their heads, then continue to look onwards. You’re escorted through the plain white hallways until you finally reach a heavily gated metal door. One of the security guards walks over to put in the code, ensuring his back faces you. The doors open wide and you depart the doctor's side to enter.

Listening closely you can make out the dialogue from taxi driver playing at a medium volume. You shut the door behind you softly.

Leon sits in a wing chair, one leg across the other, slouching back with his head resting on his palm. Leon can usually detect when you’ve entered the room by your scent and the sound of your footsteps, but he was too captivated by the movie. Cute.

You tip-toe over, a mischievous grin spreading across your lips. Resting against the top part of the chair you tap the top of his head. Leon jerks forward slightly, he looks up, ruby eyes meeting yours. It takes him but a moment to realize it's you. He grins at you, “You surprised me.” he comments with a chuckle.

“Really? I thought I gave you a hard attack.” you giggle. You take your seat in the other wing chair pointed toward the television.

Leon smiles softly at you. Good, you think. Leon was starting to show off his emotions more openly now.

After the night you had conceived, Leon avoided you like the plague. His mind was guilted with the knowledge of what he had done to you. The person he swore he’d never hurt. It took weeks for him to look you in the eyes. About a month to finally start talking to you continuously instead of spewing a few words as a response to you. Now he was showing his emotions off after a couple of months.

“How was today's check-up? You did have one today right?” Leon questions, slightly moving his chair in your direction.

“Yeah the baby is still healthy but we found out it's really heavy.”

Leon nods his head taking in the new information. You decide to question him on his time away from you, “what about you? Anything new?”

Leon absentmindedly fiddles with his fingers, he recalls his day in slow-formed sentences, “Well, they finally told me when I’d be able to continue working.” Leon had been wanting to get back to work sometime, he’d been asking every month since his captivity. “They say I’ll start next month.”

You hum, “That’s great, baby.”

“It's good and all,” Leon starts, leaning back in his chair, “but I hope I’m not out when the baby comes.” Leon didn't trust anyone in the building when it came to the baby’s delivery. He wanted to be there not only for your safety but to unsure they wouldn’t try anything.

“We still need to decide the name,” Leon notes.

Leon lets out a small sigh, displaying a small smile. He looks at your stomach, “That reminds me, what about the gender? Do you know it yet? Did they tell you?”

“Oh, yeah! Give me a second.” You abruptly stand, hurrying your way as fast as your swollen feet can go to the door. You tap on the door. Tap, Tap, Tap. The door opens slightly ajar, and the doctor peaks in slightly. “Is everything okay?” her eyes flash worry. “Do you have the paper for the baby’s gender?” her worry dissipates, “Yes.” she slides in a vanilla envelope through the crack.

You close the door and make your way back to Leon. Presenting the vanilla envelope to him, he turns to you quickly, eyes slightly wide. “Should I open it, or you?” you sing, waving it in the air.

Leon focuses on the envelope, lips pursed in thought. His eyes softly turn to you, “Could you, please?”

“Okay.” you oblige, teasing him by moving ever so slowly.

“...what do you think?”

“...is it a boy?”

You grin at him not uttering a single word. Leon isn’t sure if his assumption is correct or not, so he asks for the second option. “Is it a girl?” This time instead of making him guess you nod your head.

A smile crosses Leon's face, but it's different from any other you've seen from him. It’s genuine. It wasn’t like Leon never smiled, just a few minutes ago he was- this was just different. He had a smile you could only capture when the subject of a candid photograph isn’t aware of the camera.

Leon is the first to move, hugging you tightly and slightly rocking your body along with his.

If it weren't for the circumstances of the situation, perhaps you too could find unconditional joy in the moment. Yet you can’t. At the end of the day, this child could tear you to bits. At the end of the day, you could die because of the possible unatural birth. At the end of the day, you could be shot down like an unuseful dog after their experiment is finally birthed.

You know the pleasure you feel in these moments will soon come to a soul-crushing end, so traumatizing you’ll awake in a cold sweat many years later if they have not disposed of you.

For now, you’ll indulge in the normalcy of the situation as much as you can.

For soon that will come to a crushing end.

#dilfartist #yandere tw #yandere #yandere leon #las plagas! leon #leon kennedy x reader #yandere leon kennedy #leon kennedy #yandere resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil fanfiction #ashley graham #tw kidnapping #tw dark content #dark theme #ada wong

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elleloquently · 7 months

Text

[ ellie still fucking hated coffee.

but she finished off the drink, just because you made it. ]

| a/n : this has genuinely been in the works for months and im so excited to finally be posting it, so please consider leaving a comment/reblogging! it took ages but im very happy with the end result. over time i had a bunch of requests for coffee shop/college barista au's so i kinda mashed them together. please enjoy! <3

| c/w : swearing

coffee talk - ellie williams

the late summer air might've subconsciously motivated ellie's walk that day, her relaxed demeanour acted as a foolish guise from her anxious thoughts. she usually waited until the last possible minute to leave for class, but something today was different.

maybe she hoped that if she walked around for awhile, her body and mind would tire themselves before class, leaving herself sleepy with concentration instead. maybe she hoped that her early start would somehow prompt a late arrival to class, giving her an excuse to just not go.

ellie sighed, squinting in the sun. it was too early in the semester to start that bad habit.

she came across a little campus cafe on her wander, quickly recognizing it as the one that dina had frequented. she hesitated briefly, trying to peer through the glass windows in a not obvious way. it looked relatively empty, compared to the usual crowd, so ellie dragged herself inside.

the air conditioning instantly hit her warm skin, causing goosebumps on her arms. a small group had claimed a table by a window, chattering away with laptops covering the table top. ellie wasn't exactly sure what she was looking for, and the line was pretty short, not allowing her much time to think. ellie lingered in the doorway, wondering how strange it may appear if she turned on her heel and immediately exited the establishment right after entering, until she heard possibly the sweetest voice to ever hit her ears.

"have a nice day," you regarded softly, handing someone their drink with a quick smile.

you were still relatively new at the job, fumbly and awkward with the interactions. your previous job had sucked. your co-workers were mean, you were paid basically nothing, and you were left with little time to complete assignments. your final straw was getting yelled at over the phone by your manager after calling off of work with the flu.

finally gathering the courage to quit, your friend had rallied you up to work at a campus cafe alongside her. the idea of that sort of work scared you, talking to customers, making drinks, but the pay was good and the hours were flexible. you put in an application and by the end of the week, you had started the training process. it was relatively comfortable, until your friend had suddenly decided to quit and left you alone.

"sorry," she had apologized weakly. "i think i might pick up doordashing or something instead."

you pushed out a quick sigh, drumming your fingers on the counter before plastering a smile on your face, moving to greet the next customer.

ellie craned her neck, trying to see the owner of the voice above the heads of the people that stood in line. once her eyes landed upon you, ellie sucked in a breath. she moved wordlessly into the line, no plan of action in mind.

she watched, dazed, as you entered orders and nodded. when you turned around to grab something and ellie spotted the bow that you were wearing in your hair, her palms began to feel warm. she strained her ears, desperate to hear your voice again above the sound of conversation and the typical coffee shop music.

ellie didn't even notice that there was another person, some guy, also behind the counter until he switched spots with you, greeting a different customer.

fuck, ellie thought, rapidly looking around to watch where you were going. you disappeared into the back, behind a set of secretive doors. ellie's heart sank. she would be up soon, and she didn't even know what she was doing. she didn't want to talk to some random guy.

she just... wanted to talk to some... random girl?

fuck.

someone else wandered into the cafe. ellie contemplated making that person's day, wondering if she should just leave the line. of course she should, this was stupid, but then you reappeared. you were carrying a small brown box, and huffed at a strand of hair that had fallen into your face.

ellie was almost up, and she rapidly began praying to any type of higher power that would listen. please don't let it be the guy, please don't let it be the fucking guy-

"hi," you greeted automatically, restocking a small display of reward punch cards. "what can we get for-" you finally dragged your eyes upwards, freezing at the sight of ellie.

your gaze widened and you mentally cursed yourself for having a horrible poker face. the girl standing in front of you was extremely attractive, to say the very least. you felt trapped in her green-eyed gaze, hand hovering above the cards that you were previously toying with.

ellie cleared her throat, shifting awkwardly on her feet. if anyone's voice matched their appearance perfectly, it was yours. you looked doe-eyed, caught off guard, and ellie's face flushed.

you blinked at the slight cough, snapping back into customer service mode. "what can i get for you?" you asked, pointedly changing the we to i. she had freckles. the smile you offered wasn't forced, but genuine.

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. she had to actually order something, not just stand there and stare at you. it was ellie's turn to be wide eyed, as she scrambled to pinpoint something from the menu. god. she really didn't want to be that person. you had all that time waiting in line, just pick something for christ sake!

you stood awkwardly, smile wavering as you waited for a reply. at least while the cute stranger was distracted by the menu, you could use the opportunity to stare.

mentally, ellie was a mess. she had held the skill of reading for the majority of her life now, but ellie couldn't make sense of a single word that was displayed on the menu. everything blurred together and she could feel your eyes on her as she scrambled for something to say.

"uh, what do you recommend?" ellie questioned, meeting your gaze. her cheeks burned when she noticed that you had winced. ellie wasn't being cute or friendly, she was being annoying. the last thing that you probably wanted was to rattle off a list of seasonal beverages you had been asked to promote. ellie mentally cursed herself, but you were stuttering for an answer before she could take her inquiry back.

"oh! um, well there's the..." you glanced over your shoulder at the seasonal drink specials, and ellie held back a grimace. poor fucking girl, she thought.

your face burned. you were still pretty new to the job, and honestly, penny pinching. despite the few that you've snuck during your shift, you hadn't tried many of the drinks yet. you so badly wanted to have a quick answer, something to impress her with your amazing taste. instead, you faltered, taking too long to answer.

"sorry," you laughed, shaking your head sheepishly. "i'm pretty new to this," you explained, ignoring the stare that you were getting from your co-worker. please don't ask to help me, you silently pleaded. despite the awkwardness of the interaction, you didn't want it to be cut short. you wanted to know if her freckles were always that visible, or if they popped out more due to the summer sun.

"that's okay," ellie said, a little too quickly. she looked down at the nametag that you wore on your apron. your name was written neatly, in your own style with a mix of cursive and regular letters. you had drawn a little flower next to your name.

"that board has some of our summer features though," you explained, finally regaining your footing. you nodded in the direction of a display board. "they're super popular, people really like them. i've tried the lavender one actually, it's super good. uh, we unfortunately don't get the pumpkin spice stuff in for... two more weeks, i think? so... i'm sorry about that," you quietly rambled, wringing your hands.

"pumpkin spice? it's barely september," ellie commented, wrinkling her nose. her attention was drawn to your nails, painted perfectly and neat. she wondered how big of a fool she would be making herself out to be if she attempted to flirt with you.

you shrugged, grinningly bashfully. "it's good," you resigned.

noted, ellie thought. i like pumpkin spice now. ellie opened her mouth to ask about the lavender thing, but the girl behind her in line obnoxiously cleared her throat.

ellie's eyebrows raised and you glanced apologetically at the other girl, who was tapping her foot.

"i'll be right with you," you commented. the girl scoffed and ellie's lips twisted at the sound. you were so sweet, wasting one of your pretty smiles on someone who didn't deserve it.

"yeah, no big deal," the girl replied sarcastically. "it's not like i have a class to get to or anything." she looked around the room, trying to garner support for herself, but no one was paying attention.

"i'll be right with you," you reiterated with a harsher tone. ellie fully blushed, feeling guilty for delaying the interaction. now you were getting backlash and your co-worker was completely eyeing you up, and ellie felt at fault for it. you met her eyes again, apologizing with a sad smile. ellie's grip on the strap of her bag tightened.

"sorry," ellie mumbled as her cheeks burned. "i'll get, um-"

the girl in line sighed again and ellie lost her train of thought, noticing that you were holding back your frustration with a tight smile. finally, a good idea emerged in ellie's head. she knew dina's order by heart. dina was certainly a creature of habit, at least when it came to her food and drink orders. ellie had heard dina order a million times.

ellie confidently allowed dina's coffee order to roll off of her tongue. you blinked in surprise as she gave specific directions, a direct contrast to how clueless she had seemed just a moment ago.

you frantically entered the order into the system, scared of making a mistake and looking dumb. "hey," you called softly, gaining the attention of your co-worker. you recited the order to him, to which he nodded in understanding.

"what's your name?" you asked politely. you grabbed a sharpie, waiting.

ellie's heart skipped a beat and she thought maybe she would have stood a chance, until she realized that you were asking for the drink and not because you genuinely wanted to know.

except, really, you did want to know. having to ask was just a perk.

"ellie."

"ellie," you repeatedly warmly. it was the best thing that ellie had ever heard. "i like it," you mumbled, grabbing a cup from a stack.

"thank you," ellie mumbled, watching as you wrote her name on the cup. your teeth pulled at your bottom lip in concentration, determined to use your best writing. once you had gotten to the second L, you looked up.

"oh," you realized sheepishly. "you can go wait at the end," you gently instructed her. ellie could've facepalmed herself for her stupidity, but didn't want to drag herself away from your presence. ellie wanted to say something more, but failed. she did, however, feel as though she had caused you enough trouble for the day. ellie gave you an awkward smile, as genuine as she could manage, before moving to step away.

once ellie had turned away, you realized your mistake.

"oh! wait!" you called, your voice louder than it had been all day. ellie froze, wondering if she had done something wrong or maybe you wanted to ask for her number.

the girl who was supposed to be next groaned.

"i'm so sorry," you whispered once ellie's body was in front of you again. "i forgot to have you pay," you muttered your confession, humiliated as your co-worker made a tsssk sound.

ellie thought that after this, she might drop out of college and move somewhere, maybe the country. somewhere far away from civilization.

"fuck," ellie swore under her breath, quickly rummaging through her bag for her wallet. "sorry," she said. you gave her the total, eyes lingering on ellie's tattoo while she swiped her card.

"um, do you want a reward card?" you asked, your voice sounding more robotic compared to before.

ellie was ready to automatically say no, but she took in the sight of your rounded cheeks and bashful smile.

"i would love one," ellie replied, and she felt as though her body jolted when your fingers grazed hers, handing over the card.

"if you buy nine drinks, the tenth one is on us!" you chirped, clearly haven gave this spiel before.

"jesus, nine?" ellie grumbled, and to her horror, your smile dropped.

"that's a great number!" she exclaimed awkwardly, scrambling to fix her mistake.

you nodded. "have a good day," you dismissed, and ellie's stomach lurched.

as ellie made her way to the end of the counter, she heard an exasperated "finally!" before you began to mumble apologies. ellie rolled her eyes. asshole.

when her name was called and she was handed her drink, ellie froze. her name, written pretty in your handwriting, punctuated with a doodle of a smile. her pulse quicked, and ellie wondered if she had always been this pathetic or if she had just gotten soft.

before she left, she turned around to give you one last look. you saw her heading for the door, and strained your neck to look at ellie once more before she was gone. you made eye contact, and ellie almost did an awkward half wave that certainly would've kept her up at night, cringing.

you tore your eyes away from ellie, mentally cursing yourself. but god, she was cute.

ellie shook her head discouragingly, once again met with the warm breeze of the afternoon as she stepped outside. she stared down at the little smiley on her cup. ellie frowned. she didn't really like coffee, but she also didn't want to throw it away. she heaved a sigh, holding the beverage as she began her trudge to class.

the doodled smiley carried ellie on a high throughout the entire day.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ellie had come to find out that maybe, she wasn't particularly good at rationalizing with herself.

she figured that she would have a pretty good chance at seeing you again if she were to visit the cafe on the same day of the week and at the same time that she had previously seen you. she also figured that purposefully seeking out a stranger at their place of employment was pretty damn creepy.

when ellie passed by the cafe on her newly adjusted route to class, she craned her neck each time in hopes of catching a glimpse of you through the window. unfortunately for herself, ellie hadn't been so lucky.

if she had seen you, would she go inside?

mentally, ellie told herself no, but the answer was lousy.

maybe ellie would have, but only to try that lavender whatever drink that has been advertised on the chalkboard sign outside of the cafe. the flowers decorating the board looked a lot like the one doodled on your nametag and... did you draw them? was it your handwriting in purple, swooping letters that she saw now, nearly every day?

will power strong, but her delusion even stronger, ellie did not revisit the cafe and she did not have a crush on a barista that she met only once.

it was purely coincidental that exactly a week later, ellie left early for class again. she accidentally found herself walking the path to the cafe, and since she was so early anyway, ellie found no harm in stopping inside to get a break from the early september heat.

it was practically empty inside, so ellie's gaze quickly found its way to you.

you appreciated a slow day. the campus starbucks had finally staffed up enough to open for the semester, consequently stealing a lot of the little cafe's business. your coworkers complained and groaned about the matter, but you didn't mind. you sort of preferred it like this anyway.

the door chiming drew your attention instantly, and you were quick to recognize the auburn haired girl from the previous week. the sight of her made you grin, teeth on display before you had a moment to overthink it.

ellie's eyes were on you from the moment she stepped inside, and you noticeably faltered.

you weren't smiling right, so you straightened up your posture and dropped your eyes. you didn't want to smile too much, in a way that would be strange to greet a customer that you had only once before.

you pressed your lips into a tight smile. more formal, less i'm glad to see you again. i totally wasn't keeping an eye out for you during every single shift.

there was no line to restrain ellie today, and she sort of wished that there had been. a handful of seconds felt like ages as ellie shuffled to the counter. you were fidgeting, looking at ellie and then looking away.

ellie thought that she might be able to be confident today, swift and suave and just flirty enough to let you on to the idea that she could potentially be interested.

interested in what exactly, ellie wasn't so sure. she had girlfriends before, of course, and had admittedly flirted with her fair share of girls through time. obsessing over somebody random after one encounter though, that was new.

"uh, hey," ellie coughed. off to a fucking strong start, moron.

"hi!" you chirped, wringing your hands behind the counter. if you remembered her, and acted as such, would she think it was weird? what if you pretended not to remember her, but she did remember you, and then she thought that you were rude?

the sound of your voice filled a void that had been left within ellie since the previous week. the reaction it prompted within her was so fucking ridiculous that she deemed herself to be an idiot.

ellie did not have feelings for a barista that she saw once.

well, twice now, but still. no fucking thank you.

"what can i do for you?" you questioned, customer service manners causing your voice to raise in pitch.

there's a few things that you could- ellie scrunched her eyebrows with a pained expression, tearing herself away from the disgusting thought. jesus christ, what was actually wrong with her?

your smile never wavered as you waited, but your heart was racing. why on earth was it so awkward?

c'mon, fucking pull yourself together. if it goes wrong, you never have to show your face in here again, ellie thought.

"i actually wanted to try that drink you recommended last time," ellie said smoothly.

surprise registered clearly across your face, along with one blaring thought. she remembered you!

the second thought, the always displeasing afterthought, dropped like a weight in your chest. you were pretty sure the cafe didn't have the ingredients you would need.

you smiled anyway, (she remembered you!) giddy and nervous.

"the lavender one, right?" you questioned, and ellie was so in. you remembered the interaction, which might not mean anything at all, but it was better than being forgotten.

"right," ellie confirmed, nodding once with an easy smile.

"right," you repeated, and ellie instantly noticed the uncomfortable expression on your face. shit.

“um so,” you winced as you started, really not in the mood to receive the lashings of an unhappy customer. “i believe we are actually out of the lavender, i can go check in the back just to make sure if you want…”

ellie wanted to say no, that’s totally fine, you’re beautiful and don’t even worry about it, but her mouth tended to work faster than her brain.

ideally, she wouldn’t be opposed to a moment alone to compose herself, so ellie mumbled a quick “sure, that’s fine,” and tried not to be a creep as you turned and quickly walked away, disappearing behind a set of doors into the back.

you already knew there was no possible way that you could make the drink, and you already knew that there were no extra ingredients hidden in the back. you wondered if you could stay hidden and just not go back out.

"i am so sorry," you began, voice high and apologetic as you made your way back to your standing place. "unfortunately we don't ha-"

"that's fine!" ellie squeaked, crimson patching its way onto her cheeks. ellie thought that maybe she should buy you a drink, since it seemed like she only showed up to cause extra trouble for you.

ellie pictured it so clearly in her mind, asking whatever your favorite drink was and ordering it, only to give it to you instead. was that smooth, or lame? she imagined telling jesse and dina about it later and pictured them giving her praise instead of wincing in second-hand embarrassment, so it was game on.

"is there anything else i could get you?" you questioned, tugging at your bottom lip with your teeth.

"actually-"

"hey, excuse me, can i get an ice water to go?"

ellie quickly snapped in the direction of the person who interrupted her. a guy stood near a table in which he was previously sat, packing up a laptop and notebook.

"of course!" you turned away from ellie and she would have sworn that she felt her heart burst. "what size?"

ellie watched intently, jealous as you prepared the simple water cup. why couldn't she be an easy customer like that? what the fuck was wrong with her?

"sorry about that," you muttered sheepishly. your hand hovered over the cash register, still waiting to take ellie's order.

your nails were painted the same color as last time, ellie noted, but they were starting to chip.

"it's all good," ellie breezed, and suddenly remembered that she actually had a class to get to. she recited the previous coffee order without a second thought, thanks dina, and you nodded along intently. you weren't really great at remembering faces and their orders, but something in you made you want to memorize ellie's.

ellie paid (you remembered this time, but no co-worker was around to see it) and she held back a snort when you pulled out a little pink stamp pad.

"do you have your reward card?" you questioned, leaving ellie to look dumbfounded.

"my what?"

"the reward card? buy nine drinks, the tenth is on us?"

"oh! oh, shit," ellie fumbled for her wallet, making a sound of recognition as she pulled out the card. "of course i do," ellie remarked. you swallowed a giggle.

you stamped her card with the pretty pink ink and then began to make the drink. ellie mentally cursed herself for once again ordering something that she didn't like, but it was too late now.

"here you go!" you presented. you had wrote ellie on the cup, even though you technically didn't need to since no one else was around. ellie appreciated it anyway.

"thanks," she murmured, failing to meet your gaze.

"have a good day, okay?"

"you too," ellie remarked, holding up her cup in parting.

when she was outside and the fresh air began to clear her mind, ellie forbid herself from ever going back to that cafe. it was painfully and unnecessarily awkward, especially considering that she didn't know you.

still, her heartstrings were tugged as she stared down at the drink in her hand. last time, your co-worker had actually been the one to make the drink, so ellie didn't feel any guilt about pouring it down the sink.

however, you were the one to make it today. and you were so sweet, and ellie couldn't bear to just throw it away.

ellie gulped, staring at the cup with a grimace. she took a fast, quick sip, and then coughed into her arm so she wouldn't gag.

ellie still fucking hated coffee. but she finished off the drink, just because you made it.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the next morning, ellie was up early with a mission. a study session with dina wasn't exactly the best thing to motivate ellie to wake up early, but an excuse to see if you were working definitely was.

ellie had no clue of your schedule except for the one day of the week that she had already seen you. it might have been a long shot, but fuck it, the least she could do was get dina a coffee on her way.

campus was quiet when it was early. ellie certainly preferred it that way. it was peaceful, the way the morning light projected a certain softness onto her surroundings. she knew the cafe was open this early, ellie had googled it about seven times the night prior and twice more in the morning to be safe.

to confirm the information once more, ellie could see the glowing lights through the window. it appeared empty, and ellie couldn't even tell who the person was inside until she entered.

"hi," you said almost instantly, and your tone made it clear that you were surprised.

"hi," ellie repeated, not being able to believe her luck.

you had been wiping a table, but you placed the rag down and moved to the counter as you continued to speak.

"you're really determined to burn through that reward card, huh?"

your joke caught ellie off guard, and her feet were carrying her before she told them to. ellie didn't even feel like a person yet, how were you making jokes so early?

"i'll be getting my free drink by noon," ellie retorted.

"ambitious, i like it," you laughed.

ellie was going to have a good day.

she didn't really give a fuck about the reward card, honestly, ellie would only use it if you were around. she was prepared on the off chance that you would be working, and caught you by surprise as she slapped it on the countertop.

"so what'll it be? your usual?" you questioned, tilting your head to the side.

ellie mentally cursed herself for hitting rock bottom, because receiving basic customer service shouldn't be having that effect on her.

"yeah, actually," ellie confirmed, looking flustered as her face dusted pink.

"perfect," you murmured, fingers dancing along the order screen. shit.

"um, shit," you laughed awkwardly, face burning. "i promise i know it but also could you like, remind me?"

ellie laughed because everything about you was so endearing and also because she didn't want you to feel embarrassed.

"for sure," ellie enthused, going through the steps of the order. as you tapped the screen, ellie noted that your nails were painted a different color today.

you were a little slower at making the drink today, not that ellie minded. it was peaceful, watching you hum as you did every step so delicately. ellie felt lucky to be the only person there with you, and then hoped she wasn't weird for having the thought.

the song playing quietly through the speakers above caught ellie's attention once she had noticed that it was the one that you were humming along to. the sound of the acoustic guitar got stuck in ellie's head like a daydream, your absent minded mutters filling the spaces of silence.

"oh man, i love this song," ellie gushed.

"yeah?" you looked up with a grin, pleased by ellie's comment. "me too."

perfect girl. ellie watched as you picked up a sharpie, turning your back to her.

"what other stuff do you guys play here?" ellie questioned, craning her neck to try and see what you were drawing on her cup.

"uh," you didn't think that you had ever been this concentrated on decorating someone's cup before. "anything, mostly. we play our own playlists, like, whoever's working, you know?"

ellie nodded, even though you couldn't see her. "this is yours?"

"my playlist?" you turned back around, immediately caught in ellie's green eyed gaze. "yeah! i don't play my own stuff much though, unless i'm here alone."

"i get that," ellie murmured, watching as you once again made yourself busy.

it was quiet just for a moment, until you handed ellie her drink. your fingers touched for just a moment but your pulse quickened. you hoped you weren't making things weird, but worried that you were by the way ellie dropped her eyes after the small touch.

ellie was silent while she payed, but only because she was trying to think of something more to say.

"hey," ellie said suddenly, causing your eyebrows to raise. "you didn't stamp my card," she complained.

"oops," you said, reaching for your stamp.

"i can't believe you're trying to cheat me out of a free drink," ellie stated, feigning fake shock.

"yeah, guess you'll just have to come back more," you responded through a laugh.

your joke sobered ellie's expression. the brief change made you freeze, and you couldn't decide whether or not the joke was incorrect. oh my god, you barely knew her. then again, it could have been passed off as just a joke about getting more business.

"guess i will," ellie agreed quietly, and your breath caught in your throat. was she joking or flirting? was there something, or were you sleep deprived and crushing on an extremely attractive girl that you barely even knew?

ellie felt satisfied with herself, though was determined to leave before she could manage to fuck anything up.

"thank you," she concluded, moving towards the door.

"anytime. see you soon for that free drink, right?"

ellie scanned your features and cracked a smile. "definitely. have a good one, okay?"

"okay," you sighed and then coughed awkwardly. "have a good day!"

after ellie had left, you slid down to the floor and covered your head in your hands. what the hell were you doing?

ellie quickened her pace to get to dina's, but after one glance at her cup she stopped short.

in black sharpie, you had drawn a flower and a little bee. and then, ellie's name in cursive.

fuck.

ellie looked back towards the direction of the cafe, wondering how creepy she might come off as if she were to march back in there and ask you out.

the doodle on the cup quite literally made her heart ache, and she stood indecisively on the sidewalk.

ellie had gotten this coffee for dina to be a good friend.

ellie also could not fucking stand the idea of passing this cup off to dina and then seeing it be thrown in the trash.

"fuck," ellie muttered.

whatever, dina could use her own fucking cup.

ellie would explain, sort of. maybe.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"ellie, what the hell is wrong with you?"

dina's shoes slapped heavy against the pavement in a rushed attempt to keep up with her best friend. her hand reached for ellie's arm, a little aggressively, as ellie nearly shoulder checked some guy zooming past on a skateboard.

"huh? nothing," ellie dismissed, blinking around her surroundings as if she had never been on campus before.

"yeah? nothing? since when do you ever want to get a coffee," dina mocked the way ellie had proposed the plan earlier, earning a frustrated sigh from the auburn haired girl.

ellie shook her head, fixating her eyes on the little cafe that she was growing quite familiar (and fond) of.

"change of scenery would be nice," ellie grumbled. "come on, i'm being a good friend. you love this place."

"you're being so weird," dina muttered, stepping ahead of ellie to open the door.

the sudden chill of the air conditioning was a shock to ellie's warm skin. she tried not to look at you as she trailed in after dina.

"i'm gonna get-"

"let me," ellie interrupted, causing dina to raise an eyebrow. "how about you find us a seat and i'll order drinks, yeah?"

the environment was loud with orders and chatter, leaving little room to set up and study. ellie straightened her posture, appearing a lot more confident than she felt.

dina nodded, rolling her eyes with a grin. "i'll grab a table."

ellie waited until dina's back was turned to take a shaky breath as she pivoted to the ordering counter. there wasn't much of a line, only one person, though a gaggle of people waited off to the side for their names to be called.

you didn't notice ellie until she was in line, shifting on her feet and stealing glances that she probably assumed you wouldn't catch.

"hi," you chirped, gaining her attention.

ellie's gaze snapped upwards. she felt surprised to hear your voice, even though you were the sole reason for her even coming inside in the first place. the smile that graced your lips made her head spin, and she was suddenly all too aware that dina was probably watching her now.

"hi," ellie repeated, a little too meekly for her own liking.

"how are you?" you questioned, dropping any trace of your customer service voice.

"good now," ellie replied.

you raised a curious brow but smiled anyway, the presence of your ever growing favorite 'stranger' was exactly the type of break that you yearned for on a day like today.

there was no denying the silly way that ellie made you feel, no matter how much you argued it with yourself.

it wasn't typical of you to get butterflies while customers were ordering.

you relaxed your posture, grateful that there was a lack of impatient people lining up behind ellie. your co-worker was making drinks so you were free to chat, even just for a minute.

"what can i get for you?" you forced yourself to meet ellie's eyes, which you realized quickly was a difficult task.

looking in her eyes for too long made your head whirl. her gaze was so steady, so intentional, it honestly threw you for a loop.

when ellie began to recite the coffee order that you were expecting, you laughed a little and tapped away on the ordering screen and ellie's mouth felt dry with nerves.

"-and uh, a water. please," ellie finished, resting her hand and wallet on the counter.

"switching things up on me now?" you joked, shaking your head with a tsk. "just as i was starting to memorize it."

"gotta keep you on your toes," ellie quipped. if she leaned in closer, just a little, she could smell your perfume. "surely all your other customers don't give you enough of a hard time."

you smiled knowingly with a quick laugh, grabbing the card that ellie was now holding out to you. your fingers touched just briefly and ellie flushed instantly.

"you're totally the most difficult customer we've ever had," you deadpanned.

the humor was on ellie's caliber, and she had started it, yet your sarcastic remark instantly had her feeling guilty.

"right," ellie muttered, and she felt stupid because she knew it was a joke and you were only playing along and what did she expect, a fucking compliment?

"i'm kidding," you rushed, sliding ellie's card back to her. "you're like, the best one."

now ellie really felt like an idiot. she fumbled to return her card into her wallet and tried to ignore how warm she felt.

you smiled awkwardly and ellie wanted to believe that you were being sincere on a personal level, not just reciting some customer service bullshit. completely aware of the fact that she was overthinking it, ellie choked on a laugh. maybe she was just scarred from the trader joe's shopping experience.

"you say that to everyone," ellie recovered, her voice a lot smoother than she felt.

"oh," you disagreed, wide eyed. "pinkie promise. i like when you come in 'cause i don't have to worry about potentially being yelled at or like, verbally attacked."

ellie briefly contemplated making a stupid joke, but your twitchy smile made her heart ache and she wished that she could hang out in the cafe all day, ready to defend you from any asshole that comes in with an attitude.

"never," ellie responded, finally catching your eye. "i would never."

"i know," you replied softly, and immediately felt your face grow warm with embarrassment. why were you being so earnest? you didn't ACTUALLY know, anyway. but you wanted to trust those green eyes, so you did.

this is good, ellie thought. she wanted to say something else, maybe ask a question, but you pushed off the counter and clicked your tongue.

"i'll get you the water while you wait for your coffee," you said quickly, turning away and making yourself busy.

ellie's mouth snapped shut, her racing thoughts stopping dead in their tracks. she noticed that the bow you wore in your hair matched the color of your slouchy sweater and she had to get to know you.

pouring a water obviously didn't take as long as preparing a coffee, so ellie didn't understand why she seemed so caught off guard when you handed her the water.

"thanks..." ellie murmured. talking was usually pretty easy for ellie, considering how long she's been able to do it, so the fact that her mouth and words were drying up now had her about ready to tug at her hair in frustration.

"sorry," you smiled sheepishly. "i would totally make your coffee so you wouldn't have to wait, but i'm on register duty.. so..."

ellie noticed as you tapped your painted nails on the register and oh my fucking god, your nails matched your bow and sweater. how the fuck?

"that's okay, i don't mind waiting," ellie replied smoothly, and the words left her mouth before she could even process them. "as long as i can wait over here?"

here was referring to exactly where she was standing, at the counter with you. your cheeks burned and you nodded once, a silent reply.

"sure," you finally managed to choke out. "i don't blame you, it gets overwhelming waiting in crowds like that..."

fumbled. fumbled fumbled fumbled.

"uh, yeah."

as awkward as it was, you hoped it took a while longer for ellie's drink to be finished. she was cute, there was no sense in trying to deny yourself from acknowledging it. it's not like you were going to say anything, and if it made five minutes of your day more interesting, so what?

"don't tell me you forgot about the reward card," you teased, an easy fall back.

"never," ellie replied, but her eyes widened as she struggled to find it in her wallet. "shit."

you shook your head in disapproval. "and to think i just called you my best customer?"

"ouch," ellie mumbled. "i'll find it, i swear," ellie rushed, taking the idea of a stupid card much too seriously. she was well aware of the fact, but still. you were the one to give it to her after all.

you giggled at her strained expression and rose colored cheeks. "don't worry about it. hey, have you been to that coffee shop downtown?"

ellie's heartbeat quickened, and she wondered if you could tell based purely upon the look on her face. she was nearly ecstatic that you were genuinely talking to her, asking her something, and she wanted to deliver. it was a little deflating though. ellie didn't really love coffee shops, and she didn't want to provide you with an underwhelming answer.

"which one?" ellie inquired, loving the little smile that appeared on your lips before you answered her question.

"it's on the corner of main, on the inside it has this super cool v-"

"vinyl store?" ellie finished, beaming with excitement. "dude, i fucking love that place. i'm there like, every week."

"yeah?" you enthused, butterflies swirling your stomach. "me too! maybe we like... saw each other there before."

"i don't think so," ellie said instantly.

"i mean, you might've, maybe you just don't remember," you offered.

"i would've remembered," ellie replied seriously. she quickly wondered if her response was too cheesy, but you drew your eyes downward and tried to suppress a smile and ellie felt fine.

"fair enough," you mumbled, tracing shapes on the counter.

"so, do you collect vinyls or do you just-"

"did you forget my drink order or what?" dina joked, coming up behind ellie.

ellie shook her head, shifting awkwardly on her feet. shit.

"just waiting," ellie mumbled. she didn't know why she felt uncomfortable, maybe the idea of crushing on the barista at her friend's favorite coffee shop when she didn't even LIKE coffee but was suddenly spending all of her free minutes there, was, odd.

you recognized the girl next to ellie, dina. she came in pretty frequently.

ellie's name was called by your co-worker as her, no - dina's drink was placed on the counter.

"well, wait no longer," dina laughed, playfully shoving ellie away.

ellie glanced at you briefly before grabbing the drink, handing it off to dina with a cheesy grin.

oh.

the smile dropped from your face just as it felt as though your heart dropped into your stomach. you felt so stupid. especially considering all of the effort you had put into trying to make ellie's cups look cute, and they weren't even for ellie.

you watched as they sat down together and huffed out a sigh, startling as your co-worker tapped you on the shoulder to inform you that they were going on break.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ellie couldn't stop thinking about you. she had avoided the cafe for a few days following your last interaction. she didn't understand why, but it made her feel guilty.

it's not like she even had a reason to feel that way. but hey, she was a loyal girl. if she decidedly had a secret crush on a barista that she barely knew, it was sacred!

the way that your demeanor had changed was stuck in ellie's head, and honestly, maybe it was making her a little too hopeful. the look on your face had to have meant something.

on the other hand, this was coming from someone who's idea of flirting was smiling while somewhat remaining eye contact.

seriously. seriously? fuck it.

ellie didn't like coffee anyway.

if she completely humiliated herself and ultimately freaked you out forever, she just wouldn't go back to the cafe! easy!

the sunlight covering campus was soft. it would be dark soon, and ellie felt exhausted after a long day of classes. she was well aware that this was definitely a long shot, but she had to try. she had been buying a lot of coffee lately.

please, please let it be worth something.

the sky was fading blue when ellie appeared upon the cafe. the sign on the door said CLOSED! but the lights were on and ellie could've fallen to her knees and screamed thank you to the universe because she could see that you were inside.

you didn't flinch when the bell on the door chimed, signaling its opening.

"we're closed," you stated without looking up, powering off a small machine.

"i know," ellie breathed, standing in the doorway.

you blinked, suddenly feeling flushed. you straightened your posture and waited, unsure what to make of the situation.

surely she wasn't secretly one of those people who were like, i don't care if you're closed, give me my damn coffee now!

you silently pleaded to the universe for that to not be the case. you already had a rough day as is.

"what do you want?" you asked, a hint of exhaustion in your tone.

everything in ellie's body wanted to backpedal. maybe she really did misread everything.

"um, i wanted to say.. uh-"

oh for fuck's sake. just say it.

"i wanted to say sorry?" ellie offered, false confidence leading her to the counter.

"sorry for what?" you questioned, wrinkling your nose.

"i don't like coffee," ellie blurted out. the absurdity made you laugh.

"that's.. okay?" you crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow at the green eyed girl.

"i've just been buying them for my friend," ellie continued, adding more emphasis than necessary to friend.

you pretended not to be delighted. "that's okay. it doesn't matter who customers buy their drinks for," you pointed out.

ellie swallowed a sigh. being referred to plainly as a customer (even though that's exactly what she was) was possibly the most devastating thing to ever happen in her life.

"i know," ellie replied, really amping it up. "i just wanted you to know. that i was buying them for a friend."

your heart was beating so quickly, you felt like a hummingbird.

"oh," you muttered, feeling stumped. "it doesn't matter what i think," you said quickly, looking at the floor.

"it does. i liked the bee. and the little flower. they were cute," ellie explained. her cheeks were completely red and yours were certainly warming up as well.

"thanks.. i thought they were cute too," you said softly, kicking your shoe at the ground.

"great. can i have your number?"

as the words left ellie she blinked heavily, startled by her own actions.

you brain turned to mush. you wanted to laugh but nothing came out so you just stared at ellie in silence.

"mine?"

ellie nodded.

"sure," you breathed, walking to pull out a pad of paper by the register. you retrieved a pen and wrote your number, followed by your name in cursive.

ellie waited in silence, holding her breath. you very easily could've just typed your number into her phone, but ellie found it incredibly endearing that you actually wrote it down instead.

"it's really nice of you to do stuff like that," you murmured, handing the paper to ellie. "buying coffee for a friend and all that."

"not entirely," ellie disagreed, forcing herself to meet your eyes.

you raised your eyebrows in question, and ellie shook her head.

"it wasn't exactly selfless."

"why?" you asked, a curious smile embellishing your features.

"i was only buying stuff so i had an excuse to come in."

you bit back a grin and leaned against the counter. "it's still nice of you to get something for someone else if you didn't like coffee... but why didn't you get like, a smoothie or tea or something?"

ellie didn't have an answer, you could tell by the look on her face and it made you laugh.

"what do you like?" you asked.

"i don't know? tea's fine. hot chocolate?"

you rolled your eyes, pointing to the menu above you that clearly had hot chocolate labeled as a menu item.

"so what? it's september." ellie wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"oh, you're one of those people," you observed, watching ellie's features contort into confusion.

"one of what people?"

"people who only drink seasonally appropriate drinks," you pointed out.

"i... guess?" ellie tried to hold a decent conversation, but she was still buzzing about getting your number and the way your perfume was the best thing that she had ever smelled.

"want me to make you something?" you questioned suddenly. "i bet that i can make you something that you'll actually like, and it won't be coffee."

ellie nodded immediately, but her words conflicted her. "aren't you closed?"

you shrugged, grinning at the girl standing opposite of you. "it's not a big deal. plus, it gets creepy at night. it'll be more fun closing up with some company."

ellie nodded once more, and she would absolutely stay for every single closing shift you ever had if you wanted her to.

you paced back and forth a bit, pulling out some supplies and flipping on some machines.

"what kind of tea do you like?" you inquired, peering over at ellie. "black? green? white? oolong?"

"the... fucking, brown kind?"

your eyebrows raised as you scanned her features, trying to determine whether or not she was joking.

ellie cracked an uneasy smile.

"do you like matcha, or do you think it tastes like grass and dirt?"

"uh-"

"right! i got it," you said decidedly, making yourself busy as ellie watched in confusion and wonder.

the tea that you made was simple, but not plain. it was earthy but not too bitter or dark, and it was a brighter flavor compared to coffee.

ellie chatted with you while you were busy, about majors and assholes on campus that drag their feet and take up entire walkways.

she was actually really easy to talk to, and funny too.

ellie was just glad that she didn't need an excuse to talk to you anymore.

"okay," you announced with bravado. "try this."

you placed the cup in front of ellie, and she hesitantly took a sip.

"it's totally fine if you hate it, there's zero pressure," you clarified.

ellie popped the lid off of the cup, smelling the tea before she took another drink. "it's actually really good," ellie enthused.

"really?" you beamed, feeling quite proud of yourself.

ellie frowned but her heart soared. it was, to ellie's taste, the perfect drink.

"really," ellie confirmed. "how much do i owe?"

you swatted her away, smiling slyly. "consider it your tenth."

ellie faked a gasp. "is that allowed?"

"for you, yeah." you thought for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip. "but will you please bring your reward card back sometime so that i can stamp it? i bought a bunch of cute stamps and i don't really get to use them 'cause no one ever-"

"absolutely," ellie replied seriously, eyes flicking over your face. this would possibly, definitely, be her best fucking semester yet. ever.

and her favorite cafe. and her favorite drink.

and her favorite barista.

ellie stayed with you while you finished closing, which was sweet.

together you made plans to go to the vinyl shop, after ellie asked if she could ever see you when you weren't on the clock.

you made ellie another tea for the road, but you spent extra time decorating the cup with frilly flowers, little animal characters, and ellie's name in your very best handwriting.

ellie would hold on to that cup, too.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams college au #ellie tlou x reader

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