#i want to work with more colour but i just got lucky with that one Ominis drawing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lanabuckybarnes · 1 month

Text

Sergeant’s Got You

18+ Minors DNI

You’re stressed, he knows exactly how to make you feel better.

Note: I was asked for something like this, so it’s heavy on the love for his dog tags

Pairing: beefy Bucky (but he’s got that fatws attitude) x reader

Warnings: Dom Bucky, basically smutty right from the get go, filthy buck, he has his metal arm (I’m a slut for it), you like Bucky’s dog tags, like really like them, Petnames: sweetness, sweetheart, sweet thing, sweetie, good girl, baby, a LOT of dirty talk, sergeant kink, sir kink, oral (M receiving), unprotected p in v sex, he’s rough, degradation, feral Bucky, squirting, creampie, aftercare.

Word Count: 3.2k *insert cat HUH sound*

You were stressed beyond belief. Your mission ended up having a few more loose ends than anyone was anticipating leaving you to pick up the pieces. Now you were finally back in New York and ready to punch the next person who pats your back sympathetically with a ‘you tried’ look on their face.

Just as you were contemplating boxing the cupboard in the kitchen than wouldn’t stay open two strong arms pulled you back and into a hard body.

“You alright sweetness?” Bucky spoke into the locks of hair at the back of your ear. His cologne had you relaxing already, the fingers on his right hand hitched up your shirt to rub soothing circles over your hip bone. What really got you was the subtle grind of his hips against your ass; he was a filthy shit, you loved it when he knew what you wanted.

You flipped your body around in his arms, your fingers running up from his abs to his soft chest until they wrapped around his neck. He smirked, he knew exactly what you wanted him to do but he was a tease, you had to tell him or he wouldn’t. It’s just the way the world worked for you sweetheart.

You surged forward, desperate for a taste of the cherry lips you missed so much. You hated to admit just how much the man in front of you affected you, how often on your mission your hand snaked down your body and in-between your legs at the photos Sam sent of your lost puppy husband, his wide back and tiny waist wrapped in that blue Henley that had the arms pulled up to his forearm revealing the long veins and thick structure underneath. You needed him, now.

He pulled back just as your lips brushed his, a dark smirk and a filthy blue colour surfacing in his orbs. Fucking tease.

“You know you gotta use your words sweetheart” One of his big hands, his metal one, landed on the back of your skull, the metal thumb dancing over your bottom lip before you sucked it into your wet mouth. He growled at the innocent look you gave him as your tongue flicked over the tip before poking out and running up the underside of the shiny plates.

He pushed down, holding your tongue in place as it travelled, drool dripping from the muscle but he didn’t care, the sight of the rivulets of saliva sliding down the silver had him harder than a rock. One of the most technologically advanced pieces of handiwork and you were sucking on it like a little slut, pathetic.

He had you in his room before you could even blink, the rough slamming of the door vibrating the wall he pushed you up against.

“You’re a little slut ain’t you? Sucking on my thumb like my cock, getting your drool everywhere, you’re so lucky I don’t make you clean it up” he spoke as he hastily pulled your shirt and his off, his dog tags jangling softly as they fell back into place between his huge chest. You moved like a magpie, gripping at the shiny metal tags, giving them a squeeze, his name imprinting for a second of the fat of your palm before letting them slip between your fingers.

He watched you, ever fascinated at just how worked up you got about him, but it was your love for his dog tags that had him curious. You always, without fail slipped a finger around them, whether it was when you pulled him close for a kiss or if your slept on his chest, one of your fingers slipped itself through the chain and held them close to your hand.

He wasn’t stupid though, he could practically smell when you soaked yourself, always conveniently after his swinging tags made contact with your chin or ran up the column in your spine, the way that little pussy tightened around him when the old metal swept over your lips, tapping your teeth as you moaned out in pleasure. It made him embarrassingly weak too.

“You want me to fuck you cute girl?” He groaned into the crook of your neck, his plush lips suckling obscene dark marks downward till he reached the crevice of your breasts, your legs wrapped around him tighter as his hand grazed over your sensitive sides to the meat of your tit, gripping it softly and flicking a warm thumb over your nipple. You jerked into him at the shock of pleasure, your hand carding through his waves of hair and pulling him close as worked on the underside of your other boob.

“Words Sweetheart, I need words” He knew it wouldn’t be long till you hit that sub space, the same thing always happened when you were stressed, you needed your big Sergeant to take the wheel, use you a little bit.

“Please” fuck the whimper in your voice had him grinding up into you, the scratchy fabric of his jeans meeting the barely their material of the shorts you wore under your gear.

“Please what sweet thing?” he moved to watch the deep colour of your eyes swim with lust, eradicating any stress they once held, he was doing his job.

“Please use me Sir” you whined, fingers wrapping around the chain of his dog tags again to pull him close, finally getting that kiss you so desperately needed. His left hand cupped your cheek, rubbing a thumb over the high point softly, a sharp contrast to the bruising kiss you had going on. Teeth clashed with teeth, soft whimpers falling from your lips as he pushed closer, flicking his tongue viciously with your much weaker one, running against the top of it and sucking once it gave up it’s fight. He pulled you in again, tender with his lips this time, enclosing your swollen ones with his, his tongue running over your upper lip soothingly.

“Fuck! You’re making me go crazy” he chuckled as he moved off the wall, backing himself up to the bed till his calves hit the frame. He sat down with both of you, your body straddling him, his right hand pushing you back and forth softly on his bulge. The lust in his eyes mixed with a softness as he looked up at you, his metal hand still on your face although now his shiny forefinger and thumb hooked onto your chin, pulling you forward for a kiss, and another, and another. You whined, you didn’t want kisses and grinding, you wanted him to blow your back out, use your pretty face, anything but this.

Seeming to sense your thoughts he stopped your movements, the right hand coming up to join his left on either side of your face.

“What do you want sweetheart? You want your soldier to ruin you? I can feel how hot you are on my dick… you want it bad don’t you?” You moaned at his words, dripping filthily from his tongue, he sure had a way to fuck you up without even pulling out his cock.

“Yes, yes please. Use me” he smirked, satisfied at your whimpered begging. With a click of his tongue and a flick of his eyes he had you manoeuvring onto your knees in front of him.

He was a sight, he looked carved from marble, each bend of his body, every nook and muscle and vein delicately etched into rock solid stone to be preserved for a lifetime. His bulge strained painfully against his jeans, angrily awaiting your slender fingers offering it reprise from its tight cell. You were glad to give it just that.

Clumsily, you fiddled with the thick belt around his waist, smiling in satisfaction when the rhythmic clanks finally hit your ears. You flicked the button open and were about to pull the zip of his fly when his hand stopped you.

“With your mouth sweetness” his lip caught between his teeth, a soft blush decorated his face and chest as he watched you. Your tongue ran up the metal, the slight tang hitting your tastebuds, you flicked the little tab until sat snug between your teeth and pulled it down slowly, each tooth of the zip clicking as it finally opened.

Once you were done, Bucky pushed the thick material down his legs with a relieved sigh, letting it pool at his ankles before flicking them off with your help. His hard-on raged against the soft grey briefs, a pool of darkness lay at the head, precum soaking through.

His hands met yours, pulling them up his thighs and hooking them around the waistband of his briefs. He smiles down at you, eyes crinkling and neck craned as he watched you both inch down his underwear until it caught on his tip, he hissed as the scratchy fabric pulled over his silky head before it slapped deliciously onto his public bone and stomach.

“God” he chuckled breathlessly at the feeling of finally being free “look at you drooling all over yourself for me, you want a taste sweet thing?” His metal fingers had wrapped themselves around the fat base of his length, pushing it forward till the spongy tip hooked onto your upper lip, his salty precum smearing over it like a x-rated lip balm.

You pecked the tip of his dick, the tip of your tongue barely poking him as you did. You moved down, lips brushing against every angry vein on his cock until you met the metal of his hand in which you slowly licked a thick strip back up until you swirled your wet muscle against his head relentlessly.

“Fuck sweetheart, good girl” he groaned, head lulling back as his hips jittered off the bed softly, pushing his head into your awaiting mouth. You sucked him in greedily, selfishly inhaling his thick musky scent that had your pussy drooling against your lace panties, threatening to spill into your shorts— you didn’t doubt that if he had you naked, your essence would drip all over the wood of the floor— he’d have a field day making you clean it up.

“God you’re so good, ha— making your soldier feel so good, you like your sergeant all needy? Ready to pull you up off that floor and sink my cock into you” You moaned against his length, gagging softly when he jerked up into the back of your throat.

“Shit, Nuh uh get up here, I wanna cum in that pretty pussy, move come on” He pulled you up and off his length like you weighed nothing at all, his fingers ripping the shorts from your body and only stopping when he caught a glimpse of you’re soaked panties.

“Fuck girl, who’s got you like this hmm?” His thick thumb brushed small circles over your neglected clit. You moaned loudly, jerking off the bed with a shudder at the feeling, more of your slick pooling into your already soaked gusset.

“Mmm I can fucking smell you, smell so good baby… bet I could fuck you without prep, you want that?” He spoke, his voice deep, laced with primal lust— nothing like the composed grumpy old man everyone else saw— no, he was raw, unhinged, pupils blown wide with sexual desire. You wanted nothing more than his cock in you.

“Please Buck, just your cock I don’t care just please” you cried when he pushed particularly hard on your aching nub, your knuckles turning white as you fisted then covers beneath you; your legs shook as they threatened to close on his thick forearm, you were close already but you didn’t want to cum without him filling you out.

He gleamed at your form, fucked out, soaked and crying already— he’d barely fucking touched you— he couldn’t wait to see your face as he fucked you raw.

He ripped your panties with renewed vigour, the ruined material pulled away from your sensitive heat to hang around the your ankle that now sat over Bucky’s muscular shoulder. Your thigh quaked softly at the stretch but his cold digits ran softly against the tight muscle, soothing it for the time being.

His fat head tapped against your clit, each wet slap causing your body to twitch off the bed at the electric jolts of pleasure it sent up your spine. You could feel Bucky’s fingers circling your entrance, two of his thick fingers squishing into your tight hole as he prepped you lightly. When they left, a long line of arousal followed, connecting him to you, he growled at the sight before licking the wetness from his rough palm and middle finger.

“Mmm so sweet, if I wasn’t so fucking horny I’d make you cum all over my face… make you soak my mouth, shit” he was talking more to himself than you but you clenched around nothing at the thought, the thought of him eating you out for hours was not impossible, he’d done it before.

His thick tip drooling against your entrance pulled you from your trance, he pushed softly, hooking his head along the tight rim of your pussy as he stared up at you.

“you ready sweet thing?” He leaned over, right hand resting against the side of your head, his thumb flicking stray tears from your cheeks. You nodded softly, eyes unmoving from him, watching as his lips twitched in pleasure as his head popped into you, each inch dragging in slowly, aided by your soaked folds.

You moaned pathetically, his head running over your g-spot had you clenching around him, your orgasm hitting you quickly, your hands tightening painfully against the sheets as white hot pleasure soaked through your nerves. Everything was tingling, flashes of colour dancing over your closed eyelids.

Bucky wasn’t much better as he watched you, having to will his own orgasm down at the sight of you losing yourself over him already. You were a fucking sight to him, your tits bouncing with each sharp breath you took, mouth hung open allowing each whimper or silent scream to escape unabashedly.

“Ohh good girl, that’s it mmmm shit you’re fucking clenching me tight baby” Bucky mumbled, words falling from his lips in verbal mush, his own mind barely keeping up. When you finally came down from your high you open your eyes to look up at him, a shy little smile playing on your lips at the way he bore down at you.

“I’m so-“ you began but he pushed forward, sucking up your moan at the feeling of him hitting your cervix into his mouth.

“Don’t you dare be fucking sorry for that sweetheart, you hear? Fucking almost made me cum like a fucking teenager again, naughty girl ain’t you? I fucking love you” His hot breath panted against your lips as he growled at you, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel ashamed about the pleasure you were feeling. You blushed deeply, it was quite funny just how much his love for you made you blush, even when he was currently pushing against the deepest parts of you.

“Can I move baby?” He asked against your lips, smiling satisfyingly as you nodded before planting a wet kiss on your lips and pushing himself up.

He started slow, letting each vein pull against every nerve in your heat, his teeth clenching at just how tight you’d squeeze every time his head brushed against your sweet bundle of pleasure. His smooth pace never lasted long though, his hips jerked violently against you once he deemed you ready enough, your body slipping up across the sheets at each slam of his hips against your thighs.

He was leaning over you now, your leg pushed up between both your bodies, his dog tags clanging above your face at each jerk of his body. You reached a hand up, encircling the darkened metal, pulling on it as your body twitched with hints of a second orgasm.

“Shit! You like when my fucking tags hang over your face, fucking little slut aren’t you? You like being fucked like this? your sergeant fucking all that stress away? Mmm god, maybe I’ll put them around your neck next time hmm? Have you wear them when you’re riding me, let them fucking swing between those tits— god you’d love that” Bucky rambled, on and on, thrusts becoming sloppy as you clenched around him for the umpteenth time, only this time your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train, you could feel yourself soaking Bucky’s dick and thighs— probably soaking the already destroyed sheets below you.

With one final thrust Bucky’s moan caught in this throat as he pushed himself the deepest he could go, hot cum soaking your cervix and pushing out against his length to run along your folds, mixing with your juices. His legs give out forcing himself against you even more, pulling a pained whine from you at the feeling. As your orgasms settled, your breathing slightly less laboured although still heavy, you pulled him close by his tags, kissing his blissed out face right on the lips.

“You were so good for me sweet thing, so fucking good” he praised, his metal hand running through your tangled hair, soothing your heated scalp.

He leaned back up with a groan, massaging your aching leg as he pulled it from his shoulder before slipping out of your pussy. You both moaned at the loss, your heat clenching against nothing as his cum slipped from your body in waves. He couldn’t tear his eyes from your heat, tongue poking out to wet his lips as he watched intently. You giggled shyly at his intense expression, your aching legs closing softly in embarrassment much to Bucky’s dismay.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up” he smiled, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you to the bathroom. You snuck a glimpse of the sheets as he carried you, the whole area soaked in a mixture of you both.

“Oh my god” you whispered in disbelief against his head.

“What?” He replied as he set you down and began running a bath.

“The sheets are ruined, I can’t believe I did that” you eyed his naked frame from behind, his wide back flushed red but still absolutely stunning, each muscle rippling as he moved methodically, his small waist directing you to his thick globes. It was then Bucky turned to look at you, catching you ogling at his ass, he laughed when you turned quickly.

“It makes me proud when I look at those sheets, I mean who else can make you squirt like that? Fucking no one” he growled the last part against your lips giving you a quick smooch before turning the water off and lifting you both into the hot bubbled water.

His hands massaged your shoulders, working out the knots from your activities as well as any left over stress from your mission, not that there was any after he fucked it out of you.

You two sat in silence, save for the occasional sigh you let out when he hit the right spot, both savouring each other’s presence, reminiscing on the way you exhausted each other. You laugh when you remember his words.

“What? what’s got you all giggly?” he asked, nipping the skin on the nape of your neck.

“Nothing… just… were you being serious?”

“About what sweetheart?” He eyes you curiously.

“About letting me wear your dog tags” you suppress a smirk as you feel him twitch against your back, obviously your words sparking something in him.

“We’ll discuss it later” he rasped causing you to laugh out loud.

Your week had been stressful, with never ending problems and constant nagging from the higher ups to do the job but when you were in Bucky’s embrace, when you had those dog tags between your fingers or dangling over your face, everything melted away into nothingness, leaving you and Bucky alone.

So I lied mwahahahaha, I was going to post it yesterday but I love alcohol so I was drunk but here we are.

I’m a little nervous to post this one idk why.

I hope you enjoyed x

(I do not own any of the photos, credits to original owners)

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky fanfic #marvel #bucky barnes imagine #mcu bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #beefy bucky smut #beefy bucky #james barnes #james buchanan barnes

3K notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 1 year

Text

thinking about bakugou being like a stay at home dad for a while, perhaps he’s out on leave for work because of a serious injury and you end up having a beautiful little baby in that time :(

so katsuki ends up being the one to do school runs or is spotted grocery shopping with your little one seated in the cart— your husband absentmindedly babbling away at them about which kind of disinfectant wipes mommy usually gets and if they’re baby safe. talking to your infant daughter as if she has a clue about what’s going on.

she’s the spitting image of him too, big red eyes and angel blonde curls— perhaps she’s got your nose and your smile and your complexion but at first glance she definitely looks like a bakugou.

your husband is in charge of pick up from daycare and you switch between drop-offs but ever since katsuki decided to become a SAHD he’s handled both. he’s got a good relationship with all the staff, they know him by name and favour your little princess more than they should. it helps that she’s adorable, and it’s even more helpful that her daddy is the spitting image of a god. katsuki’s not usually oblivious to the other parents and carers that fawn and drool over him, he usually brushes them off or flashes the wedding ring that’s been happily sitting on his finger for the last decade— your claim on him.

but there’s something about your daughter’s daycare teacher— something that doesn’t click in her head to make her realise that bakugou is indeed married.

she does little things like lay her arm on his bicep when he picks up your baby girl, little notes in her backpack asking bakugou out to coffee sometimes and spreading rumours amongst the other parents that he’s a single father— all of which your husband discloses to you after finding you teary-eyed with the notes crumpled between your shaky fingers. you ask if he’s cheating, if it’s because you work too much or if he needs you home more. you’d kept working after bakugou’s injury even though you knew his savings alone could cover you both— you just wanted to save a little for your baby’s college fund.

and bakugou doesn’t start a fight, doesn’t make things worse— he tells you the truth, reassures you and says “now why would i give up the universe’s greatest gift t’me for some old annoyin’ hag?” truth be told it makes you giggle a little.

the next time bakugou goes to drop your daughter off to daycare, he makes sure that you’re in attendance. the three of you a picture perfect family with your baby girl kicking and swinging her feet between the two of you, squealing with so much happiness. the world knows that baby is loved.

today you’re here to prove a point, letting bakugou lead your daughter up to the entryway to her preschool, with you in tow, watching the day care teacher closely. you’re not a fool, you know that your husband is attractive — you’re lucky but he considers himself luckier. so you get why the teacher blushes and bumbles over her words like a high schooler when she sees him.

“mister bakugou, good morning!” she mumbles coyly, “have you been getting my notes?”

katsuki makes a noncommittal noise, helping your daughter to take her backpack off. “yeah, been burnin’ ‘em though.”

“what, why?”

“i’m married,” he says simply, and you’re ashamed to admit you enjoy watching the colour drain from the teacher’s face. “s’not appropriate and you can’t take a hint.”

you step into the picture with a bright smile, pressing your lips to your daughter’s cheek before patting her back as a sign to run along inside. you give bakugou the same treatment on his lips, locking him into a long passionate kiss right in front of her teacher.

“mrs.bakugou, delighted to make your acquaintance.” bakugou loves how sickly sweet you are, possessive as you wrap your arms around his middle and tuck your head into the pocket between his neck and shoulder. “though i doubt we’ll be seeing you much longer. we’ll be having our daughter transferred out of your class.”

it’s a pride thing, for both you and katsuki to watch someone crumble in the presence of your strong relationship. he tells you that on the way back to the car, how hot you are when you’re possessive of him like that. he shows you it by convincing you to take the day off from work too — the house void of any childlike laughter for a few hours, giving bakugou enough time to work another baby into you.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou fluff #bakugo fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha drabbles #bnha fluff #mha x reader #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted

2K notes · View notes

elusive-writer · 1 year

Text

𝘈𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴

(GN! Reader)

I got this idea very randomly so I thought why the hell not 🤭

Word count : 671

✩ 𝘑𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘰 𝘒𝘶𝘫𝘰 ✩

Yeah no, you’re gonna have a hell of time tryna convince this man to let you paint his nails.

Be prepared to beg and bargain cause that is the only way you even have a CHANCE of changing his mind.

When he begrudgingly agrees to letting you paint his nails, (after you agree to buy his cigarettes for the remainder of the trip) he only lets you paint them black.

Maybe with a small star on the middle finger if you’re lucky 😌

(he won’t admit it, but he likes the way you hold his hands as you work 🤭)

Once you’re finished, he’ll glance at your handiwork before muttering an “it’s alright…”

actually really likes it

Will absolutely chip the nail polish on purpose so you’ll re-paint his nails.

And will absolutely deny it if you call him out on it.

✩ 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘬𝘪 𝘒𝘢𝘬𝘺𝘰𝘪𝘯 ✩

Will probably be a little hesitant at first.

But after some minor convincing he just says fuck it.

And of course, a nice cherry red is the obvious choice to go.

After you’re finished tho he is LIVING for it.

He swears it’s given him like a power boost or something.

He feels fucking POWERFUL.

Insists that you let him paint yours now.

(he’s an artist so it’s obvi gonna be amazing)

Once he’s finished, you best believe he’s gonna want to show off to all the other crusaders.

and also convince them to paint their nails as well dkdkdjdjdk

Y’all would have a lot of fun with this.

✩ 𝘑𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘗𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘦 𝘗𝘰𝘭𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘧 ✩

It’s you that’s asking, of course he’d let you paint his nails!

“For you mon amour, anything 😉”

He would let you do ANYTHING to him.

ahem ahem anything

ANYWAY

Would probably ask for silver because ya know… silver chariot.

But I could see him being convinced into doing a pale blue.

Or whatever your favourite colour is.

(is he easy, or can he just not decide? I honestly don’t know)

Another one that feels on top of the world once you’re finished.

Will also insist on letting him paint your nails.

The result is…. most definitely something.

you don’t say anything to spare his feelings

Will gate keep you from the others.

Can’t have HIS nail tech getting stolen 😤

✩ 𝘔𝘶𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘈𝘷𝘥𝘰𝘭 ✩

He’s a little taken aback by your request.

But you’ve proven yourself a reliable companion throughout this journey so he trusts you.

Could def see him going with a fiery orange.

Or a nice gold that compliments his jewellery.

BUT OH MY GOSH IMAGINE HIM WITH WHITE NAIL POLISH?!?

sorry, getting carried away

Finds the overall experience to be extremely relaxing.

Between the feeling of your hands and the way you subconsciously hum as you paint almost has him falling asleep.

Is honestly a little sad when it’s over.

Likes the look of the polish more than he expected.

Will be a little shy to ask for you to do this in the future but if you offer, he will happily oblige.

✩ 𝘑𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘩 𝘑𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳 ✩

Oh my god don’t even get me started.

He is ASTRONOMICALLY down for this idea.

Bitch, he’s probably the one who suggested it when he saw you painting yours.

queue tequila joseph

You better believe he’s going for a bright ass pink.

His confidence to through the fucking roof and life is too short. Bring that pink polish NEOWWW.

Is one of those ppl that cannot sit still for the life of him.

You have to constantly tell him to sit the fuck down so that you’re not painting the entirety of his hand.

Once you’re finished he’s like a peacock.

🦚🦚

Constantly bragging, showing off… THE WORKS MAN.

might even bust out the old dress if he’s feeling especially bold dkdkdjd

Is absolutely gonna ask you to do this again in the future.

#✩ stardust crusaders ✩#stardust crusaders x reader #jjba x reader #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader #jojo x reader #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo x reader #kakyoin x reader #noriaki kakyoin x reader #polnareff x reader #jean pierre polnareff x reader #avdol x reader #muhammad avdol x reader #joseph x reader #joseph joestar x reader #⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

2K notes · View notes

becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 3 months

Note

routine vibe check: what’s the best starter pokemon and why are you right (pictures and long paragraphs of evidence welcomed and appreciated)

Gonna get a good grade in vibe check, normal to want and inevitable to achieve because I have objectively correct Pokemon opinions and will block naysayers

OKAY LET'S GO

I decided to do, like, a top 5 list or something, because I'm bad at picking a single favourite of stuff. And then even that overwhelmed me, so I found one of those tier ranking list sites and produced this:

It was done in less than a minute, so if I wanted to get really picky, I don't know if I would be fully wedded to it (not sure if maybe Sceptile should be one higher) BUT it did help to highlight the important ones.

So!

5. Bulbasaur

It's. Just. So. Nice.

Like you can find cooler, more beautiful, cuter, fancier... there's a whole bunch of ways for a Pokemon to be great. But you will never ever find a nicer Pokemon than Bulbasaur. It's so lovely. Look at it. Look at its face.

I can't put it higher, because the rest of the line is fairly bland in terms of development. It's good and logical and fun, don't get me wrong, but Ivysaur and Venusaur just look like bigger versions with More Flower and Less Cute rather than creatures in their own right. To be honest, if it weren't a starter requiring a three-stage evolution, you could do away with Ivysaur. Something I don't like about a lot of lazy three-step lines is that the middle step just looks like a transitional mid phase rather than a Proper Creacher, like they were artificially inflating the Pokemon number count. Meanwhile it took us until Paldea to get a Girafarig evo that would actually make the giraffe tall. Madness.

However my first ever Pokemon was a Bulbasaur I called Daffodil, and I have traded him forward onto every single successive generation since. He is, quite literally, my First Ever Pokemon. I love him desperately. I still have him. Not many people still have their First Ever Pokemon. But I do and I love him. So, Bulbasaur gets the fifth spot.

4. Snivy

Again, a victim of the Banal Transitional Middle Evo, but both Snivy and Serperior are incredible, and as Meatloaf took such pains to tell us, two out of three ain't bad.

But Snivy! It's so snooty! I was super lucky with mine, too, because I beat the 12.8% odds and got a female, and I loved her. Normally the initial baby starters are designed to be cute but Snivy has SO MUCH PERSONALITY, she's great. And the design of Serperior is utterly gorgeous. She keeps the expression, but rather than the Animal Crossing-style snooty-cute vibe of Snivy you get this thousand yard withering stare of an empress whose servant (you) has just turned up dripping mud in her throne room and asked her for money. Her green and gold colour scheme is exquisite. Her filigree design, including her high collar, give off the air of wealth and sophistication befitting her immaculate pedigree. And all this! In a simple snake. Incredible design work, 10 out of 10, no notes.

Begone, you miserable peasant. Have him boiled.

3. Torchic

Now I'll be real with you, lads, but Pokemon design hit its stride with Hoenn and then got better.

It's partly a fashion thing, of course - you look at some of the Kanto designs and they are remarkably 90s, because that's when the franchise launched. Others are clearly a product of what the 1990's were capable of producing in pixels on an already over-stretched cartridge medium. Like we like to clown on Red and Green/Blue now, but my god, those game designers performed a miracle with Pokemon. Every single square inch of space was used to make that game, and complex designs weren't going to cut it.

(With that said, there is still no excuse for Dragonite.)

And then Johto came about and its Pokedex sucks ass. It's mostly new evolutions for existing Kanto stars, useless babies to inflate the dex number, or poorly thought out single-evos like the inexplicably short Girafarig and the unacceptably dreary Dunsparce (our greatest thanks to Paldea for fixing both of those).

BUT THEN CAME HOENN (trumpets intensify)

And we get habitats! Biomes! A different regional climate, gifting us a brand new area of Pokecology! And therefore a brand new flush of creativity in Pokemon design across the board; less dated, and more inclined to be unique rather than a rehash of Kantonian stuff.

Which brings me nicely to this lad:

Now, I mean. Just look at him. Fucking hell. Cute starter stage, check. LOOK AT HIM FACE

AND THEN he became, at the time, a brand-new unique typing: Fire/Fighting. I realise that is now the norm for like, half of the Fire starters, but that's because of Torchic, actually. He was super popular. In fact if you ever play Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald and you do what my husband and I like to call a Mynci Dave run (use one Pokemon almost exclusively, meaning it gets all the experience points and therefore over-levels to a terrifying degree, allowing you to sweep the game; so named after the noble Primeape we first did this with, Mynci Dave), Torchic is the PERFECT Pokemon to choose, because almost everything is weak to either Fire or Fighting in that region.

Anyway, Combusken is, again, kind of mid (although props for the inverted colour scheme and the fact that it actually does look like a teenager.) But Blaziken, on the other hand... Blaziken is a six foot ninja chicken with wings for hair whose Pokedex entry describes it as able to leap tall peaks in a single bound, a feat it achieves after strengthening its legs by hoofing Geodudes down mountains like they're fucking footballs

Also an impressive bulge.

My first was called Gilgamesh, and he was fucking great. For a long time, this mad lad was my actual favourite Pokemon, not just starter. Brilliant. Love him. Five stars out of three. King.

2. Fuecoco

It would probably surprise you to know I've not actually used one. I chose Sprigatito, and I do really like Meowscarada, actually. But pretty anthro cat boys have been done in Pokemon quite a bit at this point; cats, dogs and rabbits are over-represented in terms of Poke-taxa. Possibly this is another reason for a toad, a snake and a chicken being 5, 4 and 3 so far (ooh, basilisk ingredients, I've just realised.) They're new and unusual! I like an Eeveelution as much as the next person, but they're a whole family of cat-dog-rabbits, like.

However.

Nintendo has tried its hand at Pokecrocodilians three times (Feraligatr, Krookodile, Skeledirge), and they have gotten so much better at design each time that the three of them are basically a scale proxy for ongoing design improvement. Look, I've made a diagram:

EXCEPT

(Strap in)

This one is that rare thing: a three step line that deserves to be a three step line. Let's talk Fuecoco first:

SO CUTE. It's charming, it's charismatic, it's adorable.

It also has hints of its evolutionary end goal, but not like an undeveloped middle evo. It likes singing. The white face hints at the eventual calavera, and it looks a bit like a lil chilli pepper - a ghost pepper, probably in reference to the eventual Fire/Ghost typing. But the colours and shape right now also look a bit reminiscent of a babygro, because this thing is a cute starter. Lookit them teefs. That tuft. Its lovely smile. Beautiful.

And then, at the point you expect it to turn into just the awkward teenage version of the adult, instead we get Crocator:

Oh boy. Oh there's so much to say. Okay okay:

The region it's from is based on Spain, but this thing is incorporating Hispanic elements from across the board. It's a mariachi in a sombrero, except the sombrero also looks kind of like a ring of Mexican marigolds and kind of like a Catalonian Easter cake called Mona de Pascua that has an egg (or egg-shaped confectionary) in the middle. Body shape and markings look kind of like a piñata. The white face is now on its way to a calavera, with the cheek and nostril markings more defined. And it sings, with its open mouth (also how crocodiles release heat, appropriate for a Fire type) and signified by the mariachi theme.

THAT IS A LOT.

And then it becomes Skeledirge. A Fire/Ghost crocodile.

Now the obvious design here is the calavera and the Día de Muertos theming, which is part of it. But there are also many examples of crocodile figures in Spanish folkloric ghost stories: the Catalonian Cocollona, the Lizard of Magdalena from Jaén, or the Drac de Na Coca, or even the Cuca - that one is Portuguese, but turns up in both Brasil and the Iberian Peninsula including in parts of Spain. It's got a Gaudi vibe (like Barcelona). It's got an alebrije vibe (like Mexico).

And the bird! Nile crocs have a cleaning symbiosis with Egyptian plovers; it also sits at the tip of the snout where male gharials have a sort of bulbous bit to help them make sounds (the singing thing).

But this is what the bird does when Skeledirge uses Torch Song:

youtube

It becomes a microphone, then grows in size and attacks the opponent in Phoenix form. Phoenix: Fire/Ghost. Resurrected from the ashes.

Quite simply, your fave could never.

5. Rowlet

My god. (My god)

gasp

Look at this lovely creacher. He is so round and so soft and so lovely. He looks like that baby Yoda meme. He looks like that cat that someone's landlord said they would make an exception for because he looks very polite. Look!!! At his lil bow tie!!! He is a smartly dressed young man and he is kind and he is... well, a bit vacant behind the eyes. A himbo, if you will. But he is all the better for that. What a lovely owl.

He looks a little like a barn owl, perhaps, and those were imported to Hawai'i, where Rowlet is from. But I think he looks a little like a Pueo owl, and given that he will eventually be a Ghost type, that seems right - pueos are one of the physical forms assumed by ʻaumākua in Hawai'ian culture, as I understand it.

And then, hang onto your tits, lads, because this is another banger - THE MIDDLE EVOLUTION IS ITS OWN DESIGN!!! (confetti cannons)

I said earlier that boring middle evos are like just awkward teenagers of the adults. Here, I present to you, a very deliberate Awkward Teenager, in Dartrix:

IT'S A DANDY

I love him I love him I love him

He plays with his fringe and if you touch it without permission he has a tantrum. God, he's so charismatic. Also, that fringe further suggests the pueo - they have pronounced outer rims around their facial disks like that. Look at his bow tie and tail coat. So smart and handsome

This one is so good that it could be the final evo. This is actually my issue with the Delphox line - Braixen is amazing, and then it becomes the bland boredom of Delphox. Braixen should have been the final stop. Here, Dartrix is much the same - good enough to be a high-quality end goal.

Where they differ is that Decidueye is better again.

IT SHOOTS ARROWS MADE OF ITS OWN QUILLS

Also, fun fact - This line is the only starter to change secondary typing. Dartrix is part Flying; but on evolving a second time into Decidueye, it switches to Grass/Ghost. In this evolution, it's definitely mostly a pueo, so the ʻaumākua reference is IN, but actually barn owls also have their associations with the dead in various cultures.

The crown of feathers around its head are also reminiscent of an ayaigasa - a hat worn by Japanese samurai archers. And yet! AND YET!

It still has its lil bow tie look. Bigger now, more of a cravat; but there it is.

A perfect Pokemon, and a perfect evolutionary line. No notes.

Anyway, thank you for this chance to waste three and a half hours writing this essay

#asks #pokemon #long post #gif

260 notes · View notes

mysaintkitten · 8 months

Text

Stranger | Neil Lewis x fem!reader

prompt: you and neil make your own pornos (NSFW!! NO MINORS!!)

WARNINGS: NONCON ROLE PLAY, filming sex lol, unprotected penetrative sex (p in v), home invader/stranger role play, a bit of knife play, harsh/violent threats, degradation, slight dumbification, creampie

word count: 2.1k

neil, like most men, liked porn. but since getting into a relationship with you, his preferences towards porn had started to shift. prior to your relationship, he’d see you regularly roaming around gumshoe video, and when you handed in an application to work there his knees almost gave out from beneath him. pretty girl? that likes movies? who i’ll see daily? working for me? he had never felt so lucky. for a few months leading up to him building up the courage to ask you out, he’d deliberately search for pornstars that had similar features to you. it started off as kind of vague, but it developed into to him getting incredibly specific with the details. hair colour, eye colour, body type, any feature you can imagine, he was including it in his searches. it was almost a wake up call for him that maybe he should just bite the bullet and tell you how he feels before he loses his mind.

and to his surprise, he got you.

after getting to hold you, and touch you, and fuck you, he knew that he just couldn’t settle for any old porn anymore. when you were away and he was horny, he’d resort to jerking off to a picture of your just face, or sometimes he’d ask for you to call just so you can tell him about your day while he sneakily tries to get himself off to your voice without you knowing. but he eventually got bored, he wanted something different.

then he got the idea, why not make our own porno?

he mentioned the idea to you, and you were not as onboard with it as he was.

“neil .. i don’t know .. what if it gets leaked somehow?” you question, “i know, i know, it’s a bit scary, but i swear i’ll keep the camera locked and hidden away. no one will have access to it besides you and me. and if someday you want to destroy the camera and all the tapes, i’ll be more than happy to pass it over to you.” he replies softly, grabbing your arm gently.

you sigh, “alright, fine, i’ll try it.”, moments after those words leave your mouth neil is visibly excited. giving you a quick peck on the lips before scrounging around to find his camcorder.

you film your first tape that night, it’s soft, vanilla. it’s neil shakily recording himself fucking into you in missionary, occasionally bringing the camera up to your chest to show him gripping your tit or he would show your face while whispering small praises, some shit about how gorgeous you are or how pretty you look taking his cock.

filming those sweet little couple-like tapes are fun, but after you guys get a bit more comfortable with being on camera, you begin to indulge in a bit of role play. neil had the costumes, and he loved the idea of almost making a movie out of it, so when he heard you were into it he felt himself nearly getting hard at all the possibilities.

it starts off tame, neil pretending to be your boss (which, ironically, he technically is) and you being an employee that has to put in some special “work” for a raise, you dressed maid, bumping and grinding on neil while you scold him for being dirty, things like that. but tonight, you went into unmarked territory. at least for the two of you.

the camera is on a tripod beside the bed, showing you in bed “asleep”, with the bedroom door in clear frame behind you. as you sleep, a man dressed in all black with a ski mask creeps into your bedroom, a prop knife in hand. he sneaks over to you carefully before placing his hand over your mouth and bringing the prop knife to your neck, your eyes shoot open and your body jerks to sit up.

“scream and i’ll fucking kill you.” neil growls, gripping your face harshly. out of character he would’ve never handled you like this, he asked for your consent numerous times before you started filming and he wanted to be sure you were absolutely comfortable with everything he was going to say and do, and you gave him the clear.

you nod, eyes still wide, as you stare at him anxiously, he slowly pulls his hand away.

“sir, please, don’t hurt me, my boyfriend will be home any minute now.” you plead, he just laughs, “take what you want, just please don’t hurt me.” you add, putting on your best scared performance. he cups your face, running his thumb along your cheek, “oh, i’ll take what i want, sweetheart. your boyfriend can watch, too.” he groans, placing a firm smack across your cheek.

you quickly get up to try and run, but he grabs you and shoves you back onto the bed.

“please, sir, don’t hurt me!” you beg, slowly shifting backwards away from him on the bed, he just crawls on top of you and pins you down, bringing the prop knife back up to your neck.

“shut the fuck up.” he spat, using his free hand to aggressively tear away at your shirt, prior to filming you two had trial tested various shirts based off their ripping ability, and eventually you settled on one that tore apart like nothing. he releases a low chuckle at your bare tits, gripping them roughly with his cold hand. you whine, enjoying the feeling, but you play it off as fear, “stop, sir, please!”

you wriggle slightly beneath him, but he doesn’t budge, “pretty tits, huh .. what else on you is pretty, sweetheart?” he murmurs, moving himself down slightly so he’s sitting on your shins. he rips down your loose-fitting pyjama shorts, immediately exposing your pussy. he chuckles lowly again, bringing his thumb and index finger down to spread your lips apart. you continue to shift beneath him, but he’s ultimately unfazed.

“please, sir, stop!” you continue to beg, he just shakes his head and tosses the knife beside him, “if you want me to stop so badly .. why are you so wet then?” he taunts, slipping his middle finger between your folds, sliding your slick around before bringing the glistening digit back out. he brings it to his mouth and sucks off the wetness, groaning lowly at the taste.

“fuck .. tastes nice, sweetheart, be good for me and let me use that pretty little pussy of yours, yeah?” he purrs, sliding the ski mask off while palming himself, revealing a flushed neil with messy hair. all you can think about is how good he looks, but you continue to play your part.

you try and push him away, using minimal effort, “no, please! please don’t, sir!”

he drops the “nice” act and pins your arms down, “stay still and i’ll be gentle, keep fucking moving and i’ll abuse all your holes for as long as i fucking want.” he growls through gritted teeth.

your body freezes, terrified beneath him, he lets go of your arms, “my boyfriend .. he’ll be home very soon ..” you mumble, “you already said that, hun, are you stupid or something?” he laughs in your face, unbuttoning his pants and tugging them down,

“no, no, no!” you whine, attempting to push him off of you, “sh, sh. let him see. let him see what a dumb little whore you are, letting just anyone come in here and use this pussy as they please, poor little thing just needs some cock, hm?” he cooed, using such a sweet tone to say such dirty words.

he crawls off your legs and forcefully spreads them apart, sighing at the sight of your slick pussy, that was the real neil coming to the surface for a moment. with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, he drags his middle and index finger along your folds, “pretty, pretty pussy ..” he mumbles, only loud enough for you to hear.

you smirk slightly, yeah it’s not professional, but you’re not planning to sell this tape. so who cares?

he grabs your thighs and drags you harshly so his hips align with your pussy.

“can you use a condom at least? please, sir?” you whine, trying to close your legs.

neil doesn’t allow that, he pries them back apart and scoffs, “sluts like you get fucked raw.”

before you can even respond, he violently thrusts himself inside of you. the sudden fullness making you help, but your dripping arousal allowed for him to slide inside of you with ease.

“fuck .. nice ‘n warm, sweetheart ..” he groans, digging his nails into your hips as he fucks into you. you moan loudly, the combination of his relentless thrusts and the pure eroticism of this role play had you both so worked up.

he glances down at your pussy, using his thumb to get a better view, “look at that cunt, stretching around my cock so nicely.” he moans, his mouth hanging agape. “please, sir, hm!” you whine, crossing your arm over your face, “please sir, what, sweetheart? please sir, touch me? please sir, come inside me?” he purrs, forcefully nudging your arm away from your face.

your eyes go wide, the thought of neil coming inside you was hot, you knew how much it riled him up so you’d often times tease him with it and dangle it in his face like some sort of potential reward he could get if he behaved. but with him in control, he has the say.

“no! no, sir! please!” you beg, knowing deep down how badly you actually want it, “sir, please don’t!”

he exhales a shaky breath, “you keep saying no .. but you’re absolutely soaking my cock .. i think you like the idea of me coming inside you. claiming you.” he sneaks a hand down between your legs and rubs harsh circles on your clit with his thumb, making you whine and writhe him. “stop! please!” you huff, you and neil had discussed prior safe words, and you made it clear that stop didn’t mean stop for the time being and that if you actually wanted him to stop all you’d have to say was kiwi. so he persisted, continuing to pound into you at rough pace.

you start to feel yourself becoming close, the adrenaline rush of it all had your mind foggy and body sensitive, each of his touches was sending shockwaves down your spine. he groans, “god, you’re so wet, it’s pathetic. boyfriend doesn’t fuck you right, does he? poor baby, just waiting for someone to come in here and fuck her right ..”

he’s right. it is pathetic how wet you are. but you can’t help it, he’s fucking you like he never has before, and he himself looks fucked out with flushed cheeks and still messy hair, while still remaining this dominant demeanour.

neil’s close too, you can feel him twitching inside of you. after a few more harsh pumps, you come on his cock. your body twitching and legs swinging shut, your cunt gripping around him as your orgasm crashes through you. he moans at the sight, tutting before bringing his thumb off your clit, returning to grip your hip tightly.

“dirty, dirty girl. coming all over a strangers cock. does your boyfriend know what an easy whore you are?” he spat, his harsh words making you whine beneath him, “gonna come inside that little pussy, let your boyfriend know how quickly you give it up ..” he huffs, his thrusts becoming weak. after a couple more pumps, he holds your hips directly against his pelvis, shooting his hot load deep inside of you, gasping loudly at the release.

you moan, feeling him spill into you.

he slowly slides out his softening cock, spreading your pussy apart to watch as his come slowly started to seep out.

he groans, “look at that .. jesus ..”, before slipping his middle and index finger inside of you, stuffing the spilling come back inside you. you whimper, your opening feeling immensely sensitive after his relentless usage. he slides them back out, bringing the wet digits up to your mouth. watching intensely as you suck off the mixture of his come, your come, and your slick off his fingers. his eyes flutter slightly at the gesture, you can tell by now he’s dropped his intruder act.

he shakily gets up and shuts the camera off, quickly shuffling back to bed to lay down with you.

“was that good?” he asks, a bit breathlessly, “did i hurt you at all?” he brushes some of your hair out of your face. you smile weakly at him, “it was great, baby. you didn’t hurt me, at least, not in a bad way.” you hum, absolutely exhausted. neil can tell you’re tired, so he just kisses your forehead and holds you close, bringing the blanket out from beneath the two of you and covers your bodies with it while holding you tightly in his arms. he places small kisses on your head as you drift off to sleep, you’re both still messy and sweaty, but you can deal with that when you’ve recovered.

—-

this came to my mind before going to sleep, i had sweet dreams to say the least!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #watching the detectives #i think this is my darkest one yet #oh my #hope you guys like this !!!#:)

662 notes · View notes

auras-moonstone · 7 months

Note

OMG CAN YOU WRITE A ETHAN LANDRY BASED OFF WILLOW PLS 🙏🙏 I LOVE UR WORK SM

i was writing invisible string when i got your request and i thought i could combine both songs! hope you don’t mind <3

invisible string — ethan landry

word count: 1,696

pairing: slytherin!ethan landry x ravenclaw!fem!reader

summary: ethan, who does not believe in soulmates, meets y/n, a hopeless romantic who is obsessed with the subject and makes him change his mind. later, they find out that all along there was an invisible string tying them to each other.

warnings: none, just fluff <3 it’s a hogwarts au but you don’t have to had watched harry potter to understand.

EVEN IN THE WIZARDING WORLD, SOULMATES WERE EXTREMELY RARE. Very few wizards were lucky enough to have a person that was quite literally meant for them. The amount of people who claimed had found their soulmates could be counted with one hand.

Being the hopeless romantic that she was, Y/N had always been obsessed with the concept of soulmates. She had read every single book about the topic, and her fascination never ceased.

Legend has it, if you had been blessed by Merlin with a soulmate, their initials would appear on your wrists when you turned 18—the legal age for wizards—, and if you happened to be near your soulmate, the thread that tied you to them would stop being invisible and would show its golden colour. No one but the two parts involved would be able to see it, so that’s why some wizards—the majority of them—didn’t fully believe soulmates existed.

Ethan Landry was part of the sceptic’s group. The wizarding civilisation was enormous, and only less than five people had found their soulmate? He called bluff. They were just trying to get some attention. Besides, the entire concept felt really silly to him.

“Do you mind if I sit here? It's the only corner where the sun doesn't hit” a sweet voice interrupted his study session. Ethan raised his head and his heart threatened to leave his chest when he came across two beautiful bright eyes and an adorable shy smile.

“Sure, no problem.” the Slytherin smiled at the Ravenclaw. That’s the most perfect smile I’ve ever seen, Y/N thought as she sat across from him.

That morning the sun was shining brightly and the temperature was perfect—neither hot nor cold—, so Y/N decided to read at her usual spot next to the Black Lake. With a content smile, she opened her favourite book and started her daily reading as she twirled her fingers around the green grass below her.

Ethan’s curious eyes took in the book cover and couldn’t help but chuckle as he read the title: The tale of the four soulmates.

Y/N looked up from her book and frowned at him. “Share the joke so we can laugh together.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just… do you read it for pure entertainment, or do you actually believe in soulmates?” he asked, scrunching his nose. And if he didn’t look so insulted by her beliefs, she would’ve thought it was a cute action.

“I do believe in them.” she answered, this time more politely.

“Why?”

“I don’t really have a certain reason. Isn’t it just so pretty to think that all along there was an invisible string tying you to your person?”

He wanted to scream ‘No, it isn’t!’, but he couldn’t, not when her entire being lit up as she talked about it. He wasn’t a monster, he couldn’t be rude to someone just because they thought differently.

“I guess it is… pretty, but I still don’t believe it. There hasn’t been any proof besides doubtful testimonies.” Ethan shrugged.

“That’s fair.” she said. “But, I mean, if you think about it, muggles think wizards exist sorely on movies and books. And yet, here we are. Why is it so hard for people to believe soulmates exist too?”

“You have a point. Unfortunately, I won’t believe it until I see it.”

“You won’t be able to see it, unless you have one.”

“I guess if it happens to someone I trust, I would believe their word.” Ethan said.

“I hope it happens. And when it does, remember when you laughed at the poor girl who sat by you next to the Black Lake.”

Ethan laughed, and it was the best sound Y/N had ever heard. “If it happens, I’ll look for you and apologise. How does that sound?.”

“Looking forward to it.” she smiled. “What’s your name, sceptic?”

The boy opened his mouth to reply when Chad, his best friend, strode towards him and grabbed him by the arm. “Snape is looking for you, and he seemed pretty angry.”

Ethan threw an apologetic glance at the girl. “See you are around, mystical girl.”

The girl rolled her eyes playfully “See you around, sceptic.”

NEITHER OF THE TWO TEENAGERS COULD STOP BUMPING INTO EACH OTHER SINCE THAT SHORT ENCOUNTER. If they hadn’t been so consumed by the electric spark that took over their bodies everytime they saw each other, they would’ve realized that maybe it wasn’t coincidental at all—it was their string pulling them together, because the time of the revelation was getting close and the tie grew stronger with the passing of days.

Ethan had already turned 18, and the unexpected happened—two initials appeared on the inside of his wrist. Y/N/I Y/L/N/I. There were lots of people with those initials, how the hell was he supposed to figure it out? He wished he could talk to that girl, the one who was constantly trying to change his mind about soulmates, but sadly they were on winter holidays.

Every encounter they had, she would tell him one fact about soulmates. And truth was, the more she said, the less he knew how to keep his sceptic mind. Her words had cut through him like a knife. And now that he had proof, there was nothing left to doubt. He couldn't wait to go back to Hogwarts and spill everything, but he also couldn't help feeling a bit disheartened about it. Ethan had taken a liking towards the girl, and he couldn't see himself getting to know anyone else but her.

He didn't know why, but his thoughts always bent towards her. He couldn't help it, it was like being lost in a current he could not free himself from.

Y/N's feelings weren't different from his at all. It was exhausting. Everytime she laid her head on the pillow, she could feel him sneaking in. And it weren't just dreams about him, her mind wondered about him throughout her whole day, and it bothered her a little. Firstly, because she didn't even know his name. And second, she just found out she had a soulmate.

"Mom, I'm going to go for a walk." Y/N yelled as she grabbed her coat.

As she strolled down the lighted up narrow street that was filled with dive bars, she thought about the revelation. It was supposed to be the happiest moment of her life. She had been waiting for her 18th birthday for years, but now she wished she hadn't been blessed with a soulmate. The prospect of finding them wasn’t so exciting anymore, and it was all because of that sceptic, brunet boy with wide eyes and radiant smile.

Y/N lowered her gaze down to her wrist and traced her fingers over the initials. E. L. "Will I ever find you?" and as she voiced the thought, she felt a pull on her body that made her come to a stop. She looked around the isolated street, but she didn't find anything. And then, she saw a flicker of gold in her periphery.

Her heart trumped as she followed the trail of the golden string. It came out of her wrist and it was guiding her towards a dive bar. This was it, her soulmate was there. Before she knew it, she was opening the door of the small bar illuminated by neon lights.

Her soulmate was staring right at her, and he wore the same appalled expression as her. Like compasses, their feet dragged them towards each other, meeting in the middle. Of course it was him, she thought, it had always been him.

“Hi, sceptic boy. What a turn of events, right?” she smiled at him. She was static, clouded by happiness.

“The best plot twist to ever exist.” Ethan mirrored her smile. “I guess, now in handsight, it was pretty obvious, right?”

Y/N let out a laugh as she nodded “So many clues we didn’t see.”

Ethan felt his chest might explode from happiness as he look down at their hands. The golden string was sparkling almost as much as the soulmates, who couldn’t get over the discovery. “I can’t believe this is happening. I’m so glad it’s you.”

“Me too.” she whispered, jointing their hands. Warmth spread through their bodies, and Ethan wrapped her in his arms.

“You wrecked my plans.” he said with a laugh, as he guided her to the stools. Y/N frowned in confusion, so he continued. “I was planning to wallow in sadness.”

“Why? What happened?” she asked worriedly. Ethan smiled at that, and then extended his right hand, showing her the initials. The girl’s eyes filled with sadness. “You didn’t want a soulmate?”

“Not if it wasn’t you.”

Y/N sighed in relief, pinching his ribs. “You scared me, asshole.” he laughed and muttered an apology. “By the way, we never exchanged names.”

“I’m Ethan Landry, ex-sceptic.” he winked at her.

“Y/N Y/L/N, and you, sir, owe me an apology.”

He stood up, putting his hands on her waist. She was sitting on the tall stool, making them be at the same height. “I’m really sorry for laughing at you.”

“Mmm… I don’t know if I should forgive you. Soulmates had always been a big deal to me.” she said playfully, fixing the already fixed collar of his shirt.

“Maybe I can bribe you?” he smirked, his hands trailed slowly from her waist to the back of her neck. “I’ve been told I’m a great kisser.”

Y/N frowned. “I don’t wanna know what your exes say about you” not to be toxic, but picturing him with other girls made her want to throw up.

“You’re so cute.” he laughed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. But I want you to know that ever since I met you, I have been all about you. No one else.”

“Good.” she said with a sufficient smile.

“You stink with jealousy.” he scrunch his nose in a teasing manner.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Shut up and kiss me, asshole.”

Ethan laughed and pulled her into a soft and magical kiss. “I’m in heaven.” he muttered between kisses.

“Wow, you went from aromantic to a sappy boy.”

“I know.” he sighed, acting frustrated. “I’m not ashamed though, I’m obsessed with you and I plan to show it everyday.”

“Now that sounds like heaven.”

409 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 3 months

Note

Today is my birthday, so I was wondering what would each party member from BG3 do for your birthday?Maybe a little nsfw afterwards?😏

Astarion

probably takes you out shopping! do not ask where he got the money to do this from, you don't want to know the answer. it probably wasn't earned honestly. but he's still happy to drop a small fortune on you, dressing you up in lots of lovely clothes and jewellery, taking you for lunch at the nicest place in Baldur's Gate. he doesn't eat of course, but you can tell how pleased he is just watching you enjoy little sandwiches and delicious slices of cake. he spears jam and sponge on the fork and feeds it to you sensually, eyes flashing with delight as he sees the way you lick your lips for him.

he cannot even wait to get you back to somewhere private. you abscond behind the cafe and he has you up against the wall. the stonework digs into your back delightfully as your legs wrap around his waist, he fucks into you so enthusiastically that he has to smother your moans with his hand so that you don't get caught. he whispers dirty things into your ear the whole time. but the day finishes with you watching the sunset together. he loves how you look, bathed in orange light. you'd love for this day to last a lifetime.

Gale

plans a very elaborate birthday meal which he invites all of your friends to. he is prepping for days in advance, finding out all of your favourite dishes and working on perfecting each one of them (tara keeps you distracted so that you don't catch on...) on the day, he buys you a lot of books for presents, ones he heard you mention wanting to read ages ago and kept in his mind for a special occasion. you feel thoroughly spoiled by all of the effort that he's put in, the the birthday cake he baked you is the most delicious thing you've ever tasted.

that night, when the guests have finally left, he probably has something a bit kinky planned, maybe something you've wanted to explore with him for a while. perhaps it's a... creative use of evard's black tentacles, or a magic double of himself to join in the fun, one thing you can be sure of is that you're exhausted and very pleased by the end of the evening.

Wyll

if he's duke he plans a big celebration for you. dancing, feasting, musicians, all of your favourite things dialed up to 11, no expense spared. has a special outfit tailor-made for you in your favourite colour. you spend the whole evening with your favourite people and are constantly dancing with your beloved husband. he can't keep his hands off you, and as the two of you waltz, he keeps whispering sweet nothings into your ear... how lovely you look, how radiant you are, how he can't wait to get you alone later tonight... by the time the event winds down you're a total mess with the promise of him.

and he does not disappoint. he beds you in the most sensual way possible, ekeing out your pleasure for as long as he can. paying extra attention to you with his mouth and fingers, encouraging you to grab onto his horns in order to direct him where you want him. the whole time he praises everything about you, says how lucky he is, how he can't get enough of you. you have more orgasms that night than you've ever had before.

Karlach

if you're in hell, she does her best. maybe enlists your friends to help her organise something, getting you a load of presents. she knows she can't hold you some big party like you deserve. or maybe withers comes in clutch again! he and karlach plan a little get-together with your friends for you so that you can be surrounded with people you love. alternatively, if you're still in Baldur's Gate, she just makes a big list of all your favourite things and goes through them. probably would take you to a circus. to a fancy restaurant for dinner. maybe a picnic by the river, just the two of you watching the ducks? whatever she chooses it is perfect.

now, let's be real. she straps you down if you're into it. gets the biggest, most interesting dildo you've ever seen and milks orgasms out of you all night. you're a mewling, sweating mess by the time she's done with you. and gods, if you use it on her afterwards? (if you already have a dick, filling both her holes??) oh, she agrees it's the best birthday ever and it's not even hers.

Lae'zel

probably has to take her time planning, and swallowing her pride to ask the other companions what is best to do. githyanki don't really do birthdays. she has to go to great pains working out what you might like. in the end it's probably something like she sets up a little dinner for the two of you in a secluded spot looking over the city, where the two of you can be alone and unbothered by everyone harassing you. taking the weight of responsbility off of your shoulders for a brief time. she buys you a weapon, probably, a really good one, masterwork - something she had commissioned and was refining herself. it's the most thoughtful thing she's ever given anyone.

at night she takes you somewhere you can be alone. books out a room for the both of you at the inn, so you can make as much noise as you want. and you do. she plays your body like an instrument, and you come over and over again under her hands. she's smug afterwards, your pleasure begetting her own.

Shadowheart

she's probably not great at birthdays, as she wasn't encouraged to really celebrate them much as she grew up under Shar. she gently coaxes out of you what you might want to do to celebrate for months in advance and plans around that. maybe you go on a little wine-tasting course. or perhaps Baldur's Gate has a cat cafe, and the two of you spend the whole day there, just snuggling with kittens. perhaps you both get attached to one and decide to adopt it, too... what harm can more pets around do? she's constantly giving you little kisses and telling you she loves you, her cheeks pink and words sincere.

that night she's bought herself a set of lingerie in your favourite colour for you to enjoy, taking off each lacy item in a tease for you... or maybe leaving them on as you make love. she's got a couple of new toys to tease you with too, something magical perhaps, which really spices up the evening. you fall asleep in each other's arms either way, blissed out and happy.

taglist: @ghosti02art@sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13@trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling@wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget @hopeful-n-sad

302 notes · View notes

matrixbearer2024 · 2 months

Note

Tiny Vox part 2?

Idk if you'll use this but I just want to give it to you.

I kind of headcannon tiny vox the be dumber, because the unprepared small body can't load all his data very well. So I imagine Vox, being stupidly in love, trying the help them when they are doing the dishes or working on their hobby bit he is just making more of a mess and smiling dumbly in love. Like when reader likes to draw heb grabs a random coloured pencil and bring it to them. You know just adorable but unhelpful.

Pocket-sized Partner: VoxPet™️ Care Guide

Tiny!Vox x Reader

A/N: So uhhh- here's a teeny little Headcanon thing while I write the continuation for the VoxPet series because I love smol TV guy. That and I'm starting to slightly feel the burnout, well- I can't tell if that's the right term since I'm starting to look at my ideas and realize that they're starting to lack the coherence and polish they used to. ANYWAY! Here's a Headcanon list for the small guy before I post the continuation for it- so I hope you guys enjoy! Happy reading!

So given Vox's mostly bionic/mechanical biology, it makes sense that he doesn't necessarily regenerate the same as other more organic(flesh-based) sinners.

Instead, he has spare bodies to upload his consciousness and switch into if the one he's using gets damaged and needs repairs or is just not worth saving.

Hence he has a couple spares lying around.

It's just in this instance, the only spare he had left was in a less than desirable condition-

And the others were still broken or just beyond repair.

Having a his brain be it's own practical digital entity also plays into this, I'd think in his paranoia he'd have copies of his own data stored in cloud servers all over the pride ring too.

So it won't be easy should someone try to get rid of him.

Anyway, back to the body switching.

So this new body Vox took is a very underpowered and overutilized little thing.

Imagine running a Skyrim with over a thousand mods on the highest graphics using a 7 year old dell laptop.

Yeah. That's what Vox is currently doing.

The small body is already running at full capacity with his overload of data and it's not even all of it.

Just the basic necessities like his personality and habits.

Like, what make Vox- vox.

Everything else like his schedules, alarms, work, etc.

They're just uploaded to a cloud server with the rest of his complete data.

Oh I forgot to mention, in his haste to make this tiny cute form-

He totally forgot to give it the ability to form even basic speech patterns.

Hence the squeaking and beeping.

He actually can't talk, not that the small body would even have any more processing room if he did do that.

Vox merely figured that you'd probably find some enjoyment anyway in his predicament until the new spare parts arrived and he didn't want to keep moving around dripping coolant and blood accompanied by some sparking wires.

Let's not even mention the cracked screen.

His face being messed up was probably the least of his issues there too.

So you kind of had to take care of him as that small little guy in that hastily put together body.

Also, because it's so underpowered and practically at it's peak use-

Vox can't actually really use his powers much.

Which he didn't realize only until after he flipped out when Velvette and Valentino found him when the staff were panicking from him suddenly going AWOL.

In this tiny body, he only has his generally human memorization skills to recall important things.

Not his flawless computer memory, which was lumped in with the data this body couldn't hold.

He did thank his lucky stars that you weren't so upset about the state he was in though.

You'd often flip the hell out when he got hurt or just had blatant disregard for his own wellbeing.

I mean, when you can switch bodies like the socks on your feet would you be careful too?

I wouldn't, I'd try every single way to die just out of sheer curiosity and boredom-

Anyway, after you got over the initial shock of seeing your boyfriend all plushie sized and everything-

You better bet he got fucking spoiled.

Literally like a chihuahua in a purse moment.

Y'all know those build a bear clothes and accessories?

Yeah no you'd dress Vox up and down in those tiny things and he just couldn't stop you.

He could figure out how to delete all the photos you'd taken when he got back to normal.

But if being treated like a doll was all it took for you to just drown him in kisses and hugs-

You better bet this man would go ahead and pull something like this again.

Plus the compulsion to just aggressively cuddle the life out of him-

Well he's already dead but the point stands.

He can't help but soak up your affection like a thirsty sponge though.

You do eventually realize that he actually has to be plugged in to recharge though.

Plugged in by a port on the back of his teeny head.

What, where did you think he'd put it?

You're glad that Vox tends to leave all sorts of cords of different lengths around your apartment.

Something to do with his work?

You had half a brain to tie him up with those said cords sometimes-

It was irritating at first but after you organized them to keep, at least you didn't dispose of them since you needed them now-

For once the hardware spaghetti was actually useful.

And thank goodness for the long wire, because he'd become extremely clingy after all the attention and affection you'd given him.

Tiny dude was sitting on your lap being pet and coddled while charging.

All while you were reading a book.

Yep. He was a spoiled little shit.

You also realized that he didn't need to eat because of the charging thing-

But he could if he wanted to.

As proven when Vox just took a small part of your meal and slowly ate it.

It wasn't even a full bite for you but it looked comically big in his tiny hands.

He installed a proper digestive system but not a text to speech thing.

Sometimes you wondered if your boyfriend's priorities were a little more wayside that you originally took them for.

He was so cute trying to help you with the dishes though.

Couldn't really do much because of how small he was-

Not to mention the fact you didn't even want to risk any more damage to him since electronics and water are generally not a good mix-

But he tried, and you'd count him being adorable as helpful emotional support anyway.

Even if he really didn't do anything aside from play with the bubbles and smile cutely at you.

If he didn't have an empire and corporation to run you might actually just keep him like this-

Even when you were looking over at some documents his secretary sent over to sign-

You guessed it was because Vel mentioned that Vox was in your care for the time being.

He was wobbling around holding a pen that was probably half his size.

Again cute as hell, but an unhelpful distraction-

Now when you went to sleep?

You plugged Vox in again and just cuddled him against your chest.

The same thing happens when he "sleeps" whether big or in this form anyway.

Screen dims and then his company logo screensaver pops up.

Anyway, I say sleep in quotations because Vox doesn't actually sleep in the conventional sense.

It's just one of the many ways he can physically recharge.

So if he does sleep it's often by choice or because he just passes out.

If he wanted to keep going physically, Vox could just directly connect himself into a power outlet and not ever run out of juice.

Mentally though- it's why he actually needs our version of sleep.

Or periods of system shutdown where he can actually mentally recuperate.

Otherwise he'd be a cracked out delirious mf hyped up on caffeine.

Which he is sometimes regardless.

Either way, you'd pet and cuddle him until he fell asleep before you would also succumb to slumber.

When you woke up though, he somehow ended up cuddling your face.

You had no idea when that even happened.

He greeted you with a happy beep and a heart on his tiny face when you woke up though.

It was probably selfish as hell but now you really wanted to keep him like this just a little longer-

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x you #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

204 notes · View notes

stillxnunpxidintern · 5 months

Text

MiShanks x Reader Imagine - Convenience

(So cause of a Tiktok my brain, after only a few minutes, decided that marriage of convenience was needed, and I wrote all this just so I could have one little scene, this is way longer than I expected it to be.)

I hope that you all enjoy reading this.

Both Mihawk and Shanks happen upon your family, who have the manpower they are looking for, as they need more soldiers (for whatever reason), so your father agree to it as long as they marry you, as you keep denying all the suitors trying for your hand and your father had enough, and believed this was only way to get you married off now, so the marriage between you and them was preformed quickly.

They treat you fine but also keep you at a distance, some times forgetting you were there. At first you tried to get to know them as they are your husbands, but neither of them seemed all that interested in you, so you started to stay out of sight unless it was dinner, where very little words were exchanged.

The few times when you had conversations with them, is when they were hosting a dinner or a party, and play the good attentive husbands.

The other ladies would say how lucky you were to have such handsome and attentive men as husbands, while you just smile in response. These were the only times you got to be physically close to them as you danced with them.

The library became your main sanctuary, reading for hours on the window seat that overlooked the training yard, where you could always spot both your husbands and their men training. While you didn't stare at them you did occasionally glance at them from the corner of your eye, their shirts always hanging at least half open.

When you first arrived at your new home, they hardly seemed to use the yard for training but now it seems like they were always out there. At first it frustrated you, as you just wanted to read in peace without having to see or think of either men and tried different spots around the library but none had same comfort or light that window seat offered you, so you just dealt with having them out the corner of your eyes.

The garden also became a sanctuary, when the weather was nice and if the men came into the library you would close the book you were currently reading then head out to the garden and sit among the flowers, to continue the book.

While you paid little attention to them, thinking they did the same to you, but they were always paying attention to you and the things you did. When they brought you home they were initially just gonna leave you to do your own things.

It took a while for them to notice but their home had some colour to it now and seem more livelier, as they noticed colourful flowers around the place, some little trinket/ornaments in places they weren't before. Always changing depending on the week and what was available.

They took note that the staff were happier in general and that when they truly started to pay more attention to you. They watched you interact with all the staff in the house, smiling and laughing, offering to help them which all decline but you asked every time.

They saw how you were with children, as there were times when some of the staff had to bring in their children for reasons, both men never mind, as long as the work got done before they left. When one or couple of kids were there you would "steal them away" and help them to read or write, or when the weather was nice take out to garden and teach of the different fauna and flora from across the world.

When they noticed how often you would sit on the window seat in the library, they soon moved the training to the training yard so they could see you. While they couldn't hear the noises you made when reading a book they could see your reactions, they also notice when you looked at them, even if just briefly.

They both then started to come to the library when you were, to try and start being near you, that wasn't just dinner, to form some sort of relationship with you, but with you upping and leaving every time they enter put a pin that plan. Shanks would put his head on Mihawk's shoulder with a sigh before whining a little.

Realising that both of them coming to find you together, would make you leave, thinking that they wanted time together, both men decided that coming individually was the best choice for them.

When in the library Mihawk was the one who generally came now, while suspicious at first you got used to him being in there, even if there were little words exchange between you.

Before anything could actually grow between you both, Mihawk was summoned to court, leaving you and Shanks alone.

While it was just you two, you noticed that Shanks seems to be everywhere you, while he was kind and treated you well, he was always talking and being flirtatious towards, interrupting the peace and quiet you were used too.

You were sure he was just bored cause Mihawk wasn't here, why else was he spending so much time with you, neither men have attempted to get to know you so why would they start now. You did your best to avoid him but he always seemed to find you and chatted away.

The one afternoon that you found peace and quiet, and lack of Shanks, also became the worst afternoon, when screams for you and help echoed through the house. You scumbled out the of the library and made your way to the front entrance, to see Shanks being dragged in and bleeding.

Your mind went blank at the sight in front of you, someone was calling your name and shook you before you came back your senses, and told them to Shanks to his room, to get water and towels bring it to bedroom and then sent someone to go fetch the doctor quickly.

You quickly followed behind to the bedroom and watched as Shanks was placed on the bed, groaning in pain. You made quick work of his shirt, noticing just how bad it was with most of his left arm gone. Towels were quickly brought in and were placed under his bleeding arm.

Grabbing a towel, you quickly turned it into a tourniquet and tied it at the top of his arm/shoulder. When the water arrived you grabbed another towel and as gently as you could wipe away the blood, it was gruesome, as you had never seen anything like and never wanted to again, but it seemed like it was whatever did bite it off on one go.

It felt like like hours before the doctor arrived and then you were shooed from the room as the doctor did what he could for the remaining part of Shanks arm, and every shriek of pain from the red head had you gripping your dress in your fists.

Once the doctor was done and had come out, they explained what was done and that it was important to keep an eye out of fever and infection, but they would return with medicine and a salve.

You thanked the doctor, knowing that Shanks would live, you went to your room and wrote a message to Mihawk, explaining to him what had happened. Once it was done you sent it out, hoping it arrived quickly to him.

You returned to their room, to check on Shanks and sit by his side, watching him as you wanted to be there when he woke up. When he does wake he kind of surprised to find you and teases you a little about it, you just roll your eyes, telling him of course you worry, especially with Mihawk gone.

Eventually you find out the events leading to him losing his arm happen was cause he a saving a young boy life.

The first couple of days after the incident you made him stay in bed, until he had enough of laying in bed and would spend time in the library with you, and would talk about anything.

You made sure that he took the medicine that doctor, and thankfully cause of and that salve he hadn't fallen prey to infection or fever.

Shanks had begun getting used to having one arm, mainly with little things when Mihawk returned and when he did, you left Shanks to him, as he had the person that meant the most to him, and you went back to doing what you normally did.

For the first week that Mihawk was back, you hardly saw either men not that it bothered you, however after that it seems that whenever you saw either man they were unimpressed/unhappy with you but you had no idea, you left the two of them alone as normal, as you weren't needed.

It took a couple of weeks before the air seemed to settle down and everything felt like how it was before.

For once you weren't in the library or garden, but sitting on the floor in front of the fire place, in one of many the rooms, as you were worked on some embroidery. It was peaceful before the door slammed open, making you jump as Shanks walked in, without saying a word, he came and laid down next to you, using your lap as his pillow.

Unsure of what just happened, you focused back on your embroidery, leaving Shanks to his impromptu nap. Some time later the door opened again and this time Mihawk walked in with a book and glass of wine on hand, didn't say anything but sat down on the settee, closest to you.

Not a word was spoken between the two of you, just enjoying the quiet and crackling of the fire, with the occasional noise from Shanks.

For the next few months this routine continued, sometimes Shanks napped using your lap a pillow and other times, depending where you were, would either lay or pull up a chair next you, talking away. Mihawk on the other hand would appears some time after Shanks and would bring an extra glass of wine for you, which you always thanked him for.

The weather had become colder and wetter when both men were called away to deal with a small riot that was starting to get out of hand. Without either of them there currently the house felt oddly empty to you, even with staff there.

There was a rare day while they were gone, that it was sunny and warm enough, that you decided that you would go for a ride, as you haven't done it in a long time.

You had been riding for a while when you noticed that the sky was filling with dark grey clouds that were promising rain. Deciding it was best to return home, you chose to go through the forest thinking it would get you back quicker.

There boom and a flash of light, before the rain came down and soak you to the bone. The rain was making your visuality low, and harder to steer your horse.

While riding through a thick part of the forest, the horse reared up suddenly, causing you to be thrown to ground before it galloped away. You ended up hitting the side of your head on the bottom of a tree and it's root.

So you laid on the ground for a good while as you tried to get your baring before pushing yourself up into a sitting position against a tree. Touching the side of your head, making you wince and noticed blood on your fingers when you pulled it back.

It took a while before you stood up, with your head throbbing and the rain pelting down still obscuring your vision, you made your way through the forest, hoping you were heading in the right direction.

While that was happening to you, both Mihawk and Shanks had arrived home, a little before the rain began and were glad to have missed it, as it means they could have a quick wash and dress causally. They did notice that you hadn't come to greet them but thought nothing of it as they had arrived with no notice.

Once clean and dressed, Shanks went in search of you, looking in your normal spots but didn't find you, so he then tried the other rooms that you might of been but still nothing. So went to find his husband in hope that you were with him.

Finding Mihawk in the kitchen grabbing wine and glasses was easy, however you weren't there either. Frowning he asked Mihawk if had seen you, but was greeted with a simple no, as he said he was unable to find you.

It stuck them as odd, you weren't one to hide. If you didn't want to be around them, you would make sure they knew that but given its been a couple a hours now, this was out of character for you.

Both men began looking in each room for you, getting more worried and angry with each passing room. After checking the whole house and not finding you, they then called for all the staff foyer.

When all the staff were assembled, they both looked over everyone with sharp eyes, trying to see if anyone were acting strange. Mihawk was soon asking if any of them had you, but were met with silence as no spoke.

With no one answering, both of them getting more agitated the longer the silence continued till the air was thick with tension, as Shanks slammed his fist down on the banister making everyone jump.

"Where is our wife?!" Both Shanks and Mihawk growled while now glaring.

Seeing both men furious, the staff quickly spoke, saying they haven't seen you since after lunch and quickly left to check around the house and the grounds. Once they were alone again Shanks slumped a little and sat on the stairs, wondering where you were, while Mihawk stood beside him, placing his fingers in the red locks, staring at the door.

It was nearly dark by the time you finally saw the lights of the house. Your body was so cold, wet and sore, as your head was still hurting along with cuts, grazes and numerous bruises from the times you had tripped over so many tree roots.

Your clothes were ripped from the thorn bushes and low hanging tree branches you had passed, as well as being covered in so much mud, as well as blood probably.

By the time you reached the front door, your body was begging you stop for a moment but you knew if you did, you wouldn't be getting back up, and all you wanted to do was collapse on your bed.

With all the strength you could muster, you pushed one of the large wooden oak doors open and was greeted by the warmth that hit like a wall, before stepping in lit foyer.

The light was blinding for a few seconds making you squint before noticing both husbands at the bottom of the stairs. Before you even had a chance to say something or even close the door, they were in front you, embracing you.

Well Shanks was, Mihawk was next you after having closed the door, placing his hand under your chin, lifting your face up to look at him.

With having them both there, your body decided now to give up, and had Shanks not been there holding you, you would of collapsed to the floor.

Mihawk then gathered you up in his arms, holding you close as they headed to their room. Once inside you were placed on the edge of the bed as you stared at them. They ordered the staff to run a bath and bring up food for you.

With the staff busy doing their jobs, both men stared at you again, this time truly taking in your current state. Shanks grabbed a wet cloth from the bathroom, then wiped your face free of any dirt and blood.

You winced and moved your headed away when he wiped over the area where your head had hit the tree. Seeing that Mihawk cupped your face gently in his hand as he tilted your head to the side to inspect the area. There was a fairly big cut on the side of your head, but most of your hair covered it though, thankfully it didn't seem that deep.

Once Shanks was finished, Mihawk pulled you up from bed, as his hands moved as he begun unbuttoning/unlacing your clothes, pulling each layer off and dropping it on the ground with a wet plop, till you were just left standing in your underwear shivering.

Both men eyes roamed over you, the first time seeing you nearly naked, making you feel timid and insecure as you tried to cover up your body with your arms.

It felt an eternity with their eyes on you while it was just a few seconds, as a maid popped their head out saying that the bath was ready. Quickly escaping their glaze, you entered the bathroom and removed your last couple of garments before slipping into hot bath, giving a hiss as the hot water made contact with the cuts over your body.

The maids that were in there help wash you, being mindful to gentle wash over your cuts and bruises. When they began to you wash your hair, you winced and took a ragged breath as the shampoo hit the cut on your head, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes.

When they were finished, they left you to soak in the bath and found yourself closing your eyes but that peace was interrupted by the opening of the door and Shanks began talking, though it sound more like rambling at the moment.

Opening an eye you could see his red hair from the crack in the door, before slipping down further in hot warm and closed your eyes again, as you drifted in and out of it. Your body and mind just wanted to sleep, but falling asleep in the bath was not the best idea.

A sharp knock on the door made you sit up suddenly, before Mihawk spoke to you, telling you he was leaving clothes for you to change into with the towels, that were resting on the radiator. You thanked him as the door was closing and could hear Shanks say something but wasn't sure what.

You waited another ten minutes before getting out of the now cool bath, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around yourself, sighing in to the warmth that the towels held from the radiator. Once body and hair was dried, you grabbed the clothes that were left.

The clothes were a shirt and trousers, both items were big on you so you guessed that they either belonged to Shanks or Mihawk. You did your best to make them fit, as you stepped backed into the bedroom.

Both men turned and looked at you, making you feel nervous again as Shanks grinned and Mihawk stared more intently, taking in how you looked in their clothes. Stepping further into the room, Shanks came to you as he pulled you over to the bed and up against the headboard, keeping you the middle, before pulling the covers up and threw with his arm over you.

You were about to say something about going back to your room, but the food arrived, it was some soup and bread, but you were just glad it was something hot and light.

Shanks moved out of the way so the tray could be place down, but stay next you as you began to eat. You did your best to ignore both men while you were eating, but it wasn't easy when they were staring.

When you finished, the tray were moved and Shanks once more had his arm over you, pulling you down further under the covers. The warmth and weight of Shanks next to you, was pulling you ever closer to sleep, but before you did fall asleep, you ask them when you were going back to your room.

Shanks just gave you a little hum and Mihawk, who was now sitting in the edge of the bed and simply said you weren't. You were about to argue with him but he hushed you and told you rest, as he leant over and moved some hair from your face.

Almost like he knew you were going to fight against sleep after what Mihawk said, Shanks pulled you against his chest and hummed softly. The vibration from the humming is what eventually lured you to sleep.

You slept through the whole night and when you woke, you were sandwich between two very hot and firm body. Your body still felt sore and exhausted, you then tried to wiggle free but a single arm kept a tight hold on you, sighing in defeat you closed eyes and went back to sleep.

Over the next day or two neither men would allow you to leave their sight, you were constantly watched, so couldn't go back to your room and sleep but you did get some of your clothes brought in their room.

What proved to be a good thing, as on the 2nd night of sleeping with them, you developed a high fever what lasted 3 days before it broke. One of them were by your side at all time, applying a cold compress to your forehead.

Mihawk was who dealt with making you sure you ate enough, as you had a loss of appetite, and he would make you eat a few more bites of a meal. Shanks spent the most time with you, telling you news and stories of his youth, also helped when you needed to go to the bathroom, normally just making sure you could get there fine.

It took a few more days before either men would leave you alone for period of time. You were just glad you could wash yourself without worrying about falling over.

You kept trying to go back to your room now you were better but both men still refused to let you sleep anywhere but their bed.

As it was getting even colder now, with frost cover everything most mornings, you took solace in the library again, this time on settee that was placed in front of a fire, as it was too cold to sit on the window seat.

Most of the time you ended up curled up napping on the settee, wrapped up in a nice fuzzy blanket with whatever book you were reading, fallen to the floor.

Both Shanks and Mihawk had found you like that quite a few times now, and would leave you be most of the time, as sleep was best way to getting you back to 100%. The couple of time they have woken you is for dinner and would gently wake you up, either by stroking your cheek or moving hair from your face while calling your name and saying dinner would be ready soon.

It takes just under two weeks to feel back to your normal self. While you didn't nap that often now, you did enjoy closing your eyes and just listening to the cracking of logs on fire.

That is how both of them find you, Shanks sitting on the same settee as you while Mihawk was across from you. Knowing your peaceful moment was over, opening your eyes, you looked at both men waiting for them to speak first.

Shanks was the first speak, asking you for the first time what had happened when you had gone out. You tell them what had happened, when you were making your way back to the house, though there were some moments that were fuzzy. They asked if you saw what had cause the horse to throw you off, but due the rain you didn't see what had cause it.

They both asked that in the future, if you wish to go rider then to let one of them know and they would them join, providing they were home, otherwise to leave a note and tell servant where you were going, so if something like that did happen they could react faster.

You agreed them with on that, you rather that didn't happen to you again. You then asked them if you were allowed to go back to your room to sleep, and you weren't surprised when Mihawk said no, but Shanks gave you a smile, but there was something to it though.

Narrowing your eyes at both men, you finally ask them for the suddenly change and why they were so interested in being around you now. Shanks snorted before letting a laugh out while Mihawk just let a long sigh, which made you scowl at them.

Once Shanks had finishing, he looked at you before calling you sweetheart and telling you that they been trying for months to get to you know and you were being completely oblivious to their attempts.

You stared at them both, very confused at this revelation. Were you truly that oblivious, surely you couldn't be, all the times they had come to find you and they didn't say anything and acted like it was normal.

While lost in your thoughts, you didn't pay much attention to the light chuckle that came from next to you, so you yelped when you found yourself being suddenly pulled into Shanks lap. Which made him chuckle again as he placed his chin on your shoulder.

Looking over at your dark hair husband, you asked him when did they decided that they actually wanted this marriage to work and why neither of them said anything, as well as why were they prissy toward you after the accident when Mihawk had returned.

Shanks answered, telling you that after having you help and take caring of him only to ditch him once Mihawk return, that made him feel like shit that it was so easy for you to leave after accident like that.

Hearing him say that made you feel like shit now, you hadn't taken how he would feel then, simply cause he had Mihawk with him. You apologized to him, for making him feel like that as it wasn't your intention, you simply thought as Mihawk was back, you weren't needed/wanted anymore.

They both tell you that are you are very much wanted, and there was a moment of silence before you asked them how they wanted to go about this from now. Shanks said that they want this marriage to work and they want you as well, so starting now was it truly beginning, now that everything was aired out.

Hearing that they both you wanted, you felt your face start to warm up as it went red from being flustered. You quickly covered up your face with your hands, as Shanks began laughing as you peeked through your fingers to see Mihawk giving you sly smile, which just made you groan.

Once you were sure that your face was no longer red, you looked passed Mihawk, cause you were sure if you looked at him directly you would turn red again. You suggested spending time with each of them individually to get to know them and for them to know you.

They were as opposite as night and day, it made you wonder just how they ended up with each other.

They agreed that to that idea, but they also suggested that each meal is eaten together not that dinner anymore, even when one of them is away, you agreed that.

Other things were talked about as well, by the end of it was you were very content with sitting with in Shanks lap, who kept pressing light kisses on cheek and shoulders. Mihawk had moved to the same settee and pulled your feet into his lap, as his hands trailed up both legs to the knee and down again.

Over the next two month or so, getting to spend time with each man on their own, proved to be best idea as you learn much more about them, than you thought. With the weather bringing snow and bitter cold temperature, you got to time was spend with them, as there were no drills being done in the training yard, well apart from Mihawk who seem to do an hour of sword training in the morning, before breakfast, while you and Shanks stay nice and warm in bed.

Having spent more time with Shanks, you found that he was so much more flirtatious and excitable kind of like a child than you thought, you had yet to see him serious but something tells you that when it does happen to dock and cover.

You notice with Mihawk that not much change but there been times when he "bolder" is all you could think. You are able to pick up on the small the differences in his body language and seem to be more relax, as well as giving you small touches, with his hand on the small of your back or your thigh. Sometimes he will pull you in his lap for reason if your just pass by or if your both sharing the same settee in the library he will massage your legs so higher and only stopping when your a blushing stuttering mess.

Over that time you had met more of their friends, out of them all you like Beckman was your favourite, followed Edward Newgate and his couple of his son. They were all gentleman, kind and friendly, even if they did all tower over you. The one you tended to not interact with much was Sir Crocodile, while he had been only polite gentleman and done nothing toward you, but his mere presence intimidated you, his height and hook didn't help either.

You also got to met Luffy, the boy that Shanks gave his left arm to save, as well as his two brothers Ace and Sabo. It only took meeting them for around 10 minutes to want to claim all three boys as your own, especially with Luffy sunshine personality and seeing how both Ace and Sabo were protective of him.

Later on when you were talking to Shanks and Mihawk about the boys at dinner, Shanks chuckled and Mihawk just give a shake of his head but gave you a fond smile before saying that Shanks was enough of a child that no more were needed. You gave a laugh while Shanks pouted at the dark haired man.

When snow began to fall and settled thickly on the ground, you dragged both husbands outside, under the pretence of spending time together, but the moment they had their backs to you, you threw snowballs at them both.

When they both turned to you face, Shanks had a look of betrayal but his eyes held mischief, while Mihawk looked unimpressed with his eyes holding a dark glint promising punishment in the future. Both of them took a step forward while you took two backward before sprinting away, trying to get back inside, but you were quickly caught by a single arm, then thrown down into the snow with Shanks grinning down at you.

You gave him a shy timid smile which made him lean closer to your face, just what you were hoping for as you grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it down his back, pushed him over and stood up, grinning in triumph at him.

Shanks gave you a glare as he sat up but it was soon turned into smirk, as you momentarily forgot about your dark hair husband until you were grabbed from behind, making you squeak as you were held tightly against him. You tried to squirm out his hold but it just got tighter each time. Mihawk then placed his lips by your ears before telling you that this is what you get for your stunt.

You quickly turned your attention back to your red hair husband, who was now standing in front you, grinning down at you with a handful of snow in his hand. Knowing what he was about to do you tried to reason with him and bribe him with kisses, but it didn't help as you had snow shoved down the front of your top, making you eek and curse at him, as the cold snow made contact with your warm body.

When you finally managed to get free, you glared and pouted at both men, before declaring war then started to make and throw snow balls them. Very few of your throws actually hit their mark. At some point you ducked one of the snow balls Shanks threw which ended up hitting Mihawk in the side of the head.

Watching the scene unfold, your eyes went wide as you put a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing, but the shaking of your shoulders gave you away. He turned and gave you both a sharp glare, as you quickly hide behind Shanks and threw him to wolf, saying that it was all Shanks and you were innocent, in this case.

That however did not sway Mihawk, both of you and Shanks ended up covered in snow, wet and freezing, after being tossed into the snow, a few times.

When you all went back inside, both you and Shanks had to change in to dry clothes, before cuddling up together to warm yourselves up in front of the fire. Mihawk just rolled his eyes before telling you both that it was your own fault, you shouldn't start something you couldn't finish.

Both of you just narrowed eyes and pouted at him, to which he just stared at you both before coming and claiming Shanks lips with his own, as he pulled you from Shanks hold, and placed you in his lap once he was sitting and placed a blanket over you, while his hands covered your to warm them up.

Watching Shanks spread out over the settee, you never imagined that when you first married both these men, that it would end up like this. You had thought it would be a loveless marriage especially with how the first few months were, so made peace with it but having spent the last two months actually getting to know both men and working on the marriage, you just knew it would be a happy and loving marriage.

You smiled to yourself at that thought before snuggling further into Mihawk hold, as you could hear Shanks teasing you lighting, as you decided that a short nap would be good right now.

As you were drifting off, you could feel kisses on the top of your head, as both men began to talk quietly.

You were very happy with how everything had turned out.

#One Piece #Red Hair Shanks #Dracule Mihawk #Reader #MiShanks x Reader #MiShanks #Shanks x Reader #Mihawk x Reader #Mihawk x Shanks #Mihawks x Reader x Shanks #Akagami no Shanks #Hawkeye Mihawk #One Piece Shanks #One Piece Mikhawk #One Piece imagine #Shanks #Mihawk

289 notes · View notes

woso-dreamzzz · 4 months

Text

Brewing with Beckie

Janine Beckie x Reader

Summary: You go on the podcast

"Hi, everyone. Welcome back to Brewing with Beckie. Today, we have a very special guest...my girlfriend y/n!"

You popped into the frame with a little smile and a mug. You lifted it to the camera and tipped your head a little in greeting. "Hi!"

A kiss was pressed to your cheek as Beckie shifted closer until your shoulders were pressed together so close that if it wasn't for the different colours of your shirts, nobody would be able to tell where you started and Beckie ended.

"So," Beckie said," This is, of course, my lovely girlfriend. We've got a little tradition on the podcast-"

"I know, baby," You said," I listen to every episode. You want to know what kind of coffee I've got." You swirled it teasingly and Beckie rolled her eyes.

"It's more for the listeners. I know what you've got in there."

"Oh, yeah?" You challenged," What have I got in here?" You snatched it away before she kind sniff at it.

"Hot chocolate," She answered easily," Because you don't like coffee and just yesterday you raved about getting that fancy hot chocolate mixture you've been looking for for weeks now."

You let out a little bark of laughter, tilting your head to rest against Janine's shoulder. "Okay...maybe you know me a bit well."

"That's actually one of the questions I've got. How long have we known each other?"

"Years," You said," We grew up next door." You lifted your mug and took a long sip. "We had rooms that faced each other. Do you remember when we used to try to mime to each other through the windows?"

Janine chuckled with a little nod. "And then we worked out that the locks on the windows were just for show and we could have talked to each other the whole time."

"My mum used to yell at you through that window, when we would keep her up by talking too loudly."

"I think she still blames me for your dip in grades that year."

You took another long sip and batted her hand lightly. "Enough about my mother. What's the next question? You've got quite the extensive list."

You were teasing but you knew that she had been preparing for this episode for a while now. You knew that she was sneakily looking at the piece of paper under the table that she was trying to hide from you.

"Hey!" Janine said," No peeking! That's cheating!"

"It's not a competition, baby! I can't cheat!"

"Next question! Ooh, I like this one! What was the first thing you noticed about me when we started dating?"

"The fact that I can be right next to you and you won't hear a thing but god forbid I make a little comment and you hear it from across the room," You replied drily though kept the little smile on your face.

"This was meant to be a cute question!" Janine complained even though she was laughing.

"What would you have preferred me to say?"

Janine shrugged. "I don't know, my eyes or something?"

"Baby, I noticed your eyes long before we started dating."

That made Janine puff up a little bit before she went back to consulting her list of questions. It went back and forth like normal on her podcast and soon your drink had gone cold and you were practically pressed up into Janine's lap.

Ever since you were little, you had been a physically affectionate person. You like to hold hands with people and be in their personal space. You counted yourself lucky that you had such an accommodating girlfriend who easily opened her arms for you to crawl into at the end of the day.

"I like this one too!"

"Babe, you wrote them. You don't need to try and puff up your own ego."

"This is the last question," Janine said," Can you at least let me have this?"

"Fine," You laughed," Go on. Ask away."

"What's the best memory you have of us together?" She was grinning at you and you kissed the smug look off her face.

"You know the answer."

"The viewers don't."

"Oh? So this is an announcement?"

"Only if you announce something."

You stole another kiss from Janine before flashing your ring at the camera.

"Last night. When you proposed, of course."

#woso x reader #janine beckie x reader #janine beckie #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

381 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

Text

The Grey Zone 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, age gap, bullying, toxic parental figures, 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: Your relationship with your parents has never been good, and that with a family friend takes a strange turn(goth!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Note: This is what happens when I decide to say fuck it.

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 <3

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

Love you like I love turning intended one shots into series. Take care. 💖

The scent of matcha dampens your corset. Lucky for you, it’s black and won’t stain. That’s the one worry you rarely face in your life; stains. Dark fabric does more favours than just slimming you.

Still, that sunny side isn’t enough to brighten your mood. Your day has been shrouded in dark clouds. Your wasted Starbucks matcha and spoiled study sessions weigh down your feet, the thick treads of your boots clomping down the pavement. And on the bus, you nearly fell right on your face with no seats free to sit.

You look up as you approach your father’s ranch house style home. He didn’t take much pride in you but the house was always a gem for him to show off. Almost all your life, it was under one renovation or another. He was always trying to fix things up, including you.

Your mother enabled his endless ‘improvements’ so long as he bribed her with something pretty. That was her thing. He builds, she decorates, and you are the one ornament that doesn’t fit. At least, that’s what it’s felt like since your turn towards black nail polish and fishnets at thirteen. Seven years later and there was still the same angst woven into your parental relationships.

You tramp up the steps of the porch, not noticing the figure sat on the handcrafted bench near the large squared paned windows. Mr. Hansen sits with a can of craft beer in hand, arching a brow at the can as he reads it skeptically. He glances over, not so surprised by your sudden appearance.

You take your earbuds out as the racket scratches from the tiny speakers. You thin your lips, smiles not exactly your forte. He sits up and puts the can down on the bench.

“Tastes like fermented socks,” he says coolly, “your dad never has anything good.”

“Mm,” you grumble as you grip the leather strap of your studded knapsack. “Yeah…”

“You want it? Just don’t tattle on me,” he offers as he taps the aluminum brim.

You shake your head.

“I won’t tell,” he smirks.

“You’re right, it tastes like socks,” you say dully.

He chuckles and brings his hand up, smoothing his palm across the buzzed side of his head. He looks at you, a bit longer than usual. You have the urge to take out your phone and check your reflection.

“I should–”

“That new?”

You speak at the same time. Awkward. Mr. Hansen isn’t usually that out of sync. He has a confidence that makes you feel even more clueless.

“What?” You blink and twist your toe into the wood.

“That shirt.”

You look down at the boned black corset with the violet trim, over a plain black turtleneck. You got it from a vintage store years ago. You’ve worn it so much, the boning holds the shape of your body. You shake your head and shrug.

“Hmm, looks nice.”

The compliment catches you further off guard than his solitary presence. He’s blunt and to the point. The only person you’ve ever heard tell your father the truth. And you know your style is not to everyone's taste.

Looking at him, it's definitely not his. Cream coloured pants, burgundy loafers with golden buckles, and polo striped in shades of goldenrod and garnet.

“Thanks,” you keep from sucking your lip in, not wanting to smear your lip stain. “I should… go.”

“Sure,” he sits back, leaning against the window frame, “if you see your dad, send him out. He ditched me like fifteen minutes ago to find some nonsense sports card.”

“Right,” you continue across the porch.

In your peripheral, his head turns but you don’t meet his gaze. You pull open the screen door, innately aware of him watching you. Why?

The interior door is ajar. You step inside and the spring of the screen snaps it shut behind you. You put your bag on the console table just inside, and lean on it as you unlace your boots. Your mother would subject you to her shrill disapproval if you leave dirt on the runner again.

As you stand, you check your reflection in the round mirror hung on the wall, a frame of golden oak leaves around it. You don’t look that bad. You fixed most of your smeared eyeliner before you left the mall and your lip stain has stuck pretty well. You might be a bit shiny from sweat but nothing egregious.

Before you can grab your bag, the screen door opens. You wince and look at Mr. Hansen as he enters. He is close as he lets the door shut softly and you quickly snatch your knapsack and move away from him.

“Second thought, gotta hit the bathroom,” he explains but pauses and wiggles his nose, the gesture made more obvious by the trim of hair beneath, “smells like grass.”

“Uh, yeah,” you sling your bag from your elbow, “spilled my tea.”

“Probably a good thing if it smells like a lawn,” he scoffs and kicks off his velvet loafers.

“Probably,” you agree glumly and turn away.

“Too bad though. Hope you didn’t burn yourself.”

You stop again, at the bottom of the stairs. You glance back at him. He’s being strangely nice. This isn’t the same man who called you Wednesday Addams and teased you how he was certain that you must sleep in a coffin. Is something wrong? Is your dad okay?

“Hey,” your dad’s voice booms down the stairs above you. You spin and look up at his descent. He carries the old cigar box he keeps his collectibles in, “home early. Thought you were studying.”

“Yeah, uh, I’m just going to do it here–” you say.

“Your mother wants you to help with dinner tonight,” he doesn’t let you finish. As he nears he stops, looking you up and down like he always does. You have to know that he hates everything about you. “Colourful.”

“Dad,” you whisper a weak plea.

He doesn’t answer you as he shoulders past. You frown but don’t look back. You don’t want to show how much it hurts. Even if it happens every day, it still crushes you. It’s just clothes, why does he care so much? You remember the day he stopped taking you to car shows with him, the day you refused to take out your earrings. That was the switch.

“Studying, huh? Boring, but admirable,” Mr. Hansen comments, “think most dad’s would love to hear that from their daughters, huh, Ray?”

Your father just huffs, “depends what they’re studying.”

You keep on up the stairs. You won’t argue, not in front of company. Especially not in front of Mr. Hansen.

“Degree isn’t worth much when you dress like that,” you hear his remark before you get to the top.

You peek back downstairs but can’t see the landing below. Funny, you got a job and they don’t care what you wear, they just want you to show up. If only you had the courage to say it out loud. If only it would make a difference.

You shuffle to your room, just down the hall from your father’s. He occupies the primary room and your mother sleeps in her studio, just the next doorway. They can be amiable, given they don’t spend too much time together. Their relationship is more transactional than affectionate.

You wouldn’t know much about that, though. You’re only guessing. The closest you got to a relationship was when Travis invited you under the bleaches… that’s a memory worth forgetting.

You close your door before you can get carried away. You stopped worrying about your parents’ marriage right before high school. You realised then, there wasn’t any use in fretting in it. In fact, you became almost hopeful that one day they would split.

You put your bag on your bed and look around. The vanity you painted black stands beside the dark curtains. Little bat stickers decorate the edges of the mirror, your collection of antique vials and painted bottles line one side, and your make up chest sits on the other. It’s your little cave, the one place no one can tell you who to be.

You turn on the lamp in the shape of a crystal ball. You undo your corset and peel off your turtleneck, leaving the damp clothing in the hamper. You pull on a black and white striped sweater instead.

You unpack your laptop and climb up on your high queen. The frame has curling iron posts, a particularly gothic design with a peak at the center of the headboard. You love it even if it scratches the paint off the wall.

You pile your pillows up, building a cosy nest to catch up on your work. It’s maybe ten minutes before there’s pounding on your door. Your mother doesn’t wait for an answer. You’ve learned not to expect her to. You look over as she flips on the overhead lights, ruining the subtle ambience of your bedside lamp.

“Uh, hello,” she snips, “your dad said he told you about dinner.”

You frown, “it’s only four–”

“Yes, and? I’m making a bouillabaisse. It needs lots of time,” she retorts, “besides, the table will need to be set for our company.”

“Company? You mean Mr. Hansen–”

“Er yeah,” she sniffs, “don’t be so dumb and stop asking questions.”

“Just curious,” you close your laptop and push yourself across the bed, “coming…”

Your voice trails off as your mother’s already gone, your door left slightly ajar. You huff and follow her tracks, her steps on the stairs as you get to the hallway. You pull your door shut behind you, checking to make sure the fault mechanism catches.

You continue downstairs and follow the impatient clanging of your mother. She’s never very subtle. She already has a glass of red on the counter. She’ll bark at you over it as she tells you exactly how to cook and refuse to do any of it herself.

“Oh, honey,” she says dramatically as she slams the soup pot on the burner, “you look so grim. What happened to that new gloss I bought you?”

“The pink stuff?” You utter as you pick at your sleeves.

“It went so nice with your complexion,” she preens, “it would look so nice with a new dress. I was online shopping today–”

“Mom,” you cross your arms.

“Don’t be a brat. You know, when I was your age, I would’ve loved if my mother still bought me clothes. She made me work for everything I had. She wouldn’t even buy me tampons.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“Don’t be sorry, get the fish out. Don’t forget the mussels…”

You do as she says. You take out the vast array of fish along with the vegetables she lists off. She empties her glass by the time you start adding ingredients to the blender for the base. You’ve never been a fan of the dish but the last time you tried to convince her on something similar, you went to bed with a stinging cheek. She pours a second glass as you run the motor, holding it extra long to override her nagging.

She leans on the counter, swirling her glass. You can smell her cabinet-laced breath. She’s tipsy already. You add oil to the pot and wait for it to heat up.

“You look so dreary in black,” she mopes, “what happened to my little girl?”

“I’m twenty,” you offer flatly.

“Oh, you started this long before that,” she snarls, “you never wanted to be pretty for your mama.”

“I…” you look down, “this is pretty. To me.”

“You look like one of those girls on the internet…” her head wobbles and she slurps from her glass, “I’ve seen the type. They wear tights like yours and nothing else. What are you always doing on your computer, anyway?”

The accusation scalds you. You shake your head and add the chopped onion, fennel, and leek to the hot oil. This isn’t the first time she’s made the insinuation. Like that time she found certain websites saved on your father’s iPad. It couldn’t have been him, he wouldn’t look at those things. And there was only one other person to blame.

“Schoolwork,” you sigh, “mom,” you look at her wine glass, almost empty again, “how about some water–”

“How about you don’t tell me what to do,” she points at you with a long red nail, “I am your mother, not the other way around.”

“I know,” you grab a rubber spatula and push around the veggies and oil. The fragrant aroma rises in the air. It stokes your appetite.

“Mmm, something smells delicious,” Mr. Hansen’s voice enters ahead of him as you glance over.

Your mother turns and leans her elbows back on the counter, pushing her chest out. You know this part too. Not just with him but the gardener and even the garbage man. Your eyes flick to Mr. Hansen’s before you quickly return your attention to the pot.

“Looks delicious too,” your mother slithers as she leers at him, “Lloyd, I didn’t even get a chance to thank you for the merlot!” She raises her glass sloppily, “there’s enough left for you.”

“Ah, Connie, that’s nice of you,” he replies as he nears, “but it’s cabernet, actually. And my stomach was turned by that craft bullshit.”

He comes close to the stove, standing beside you as he peers down into the pot. The heat from the stove couples with that of his proximity. Your mother drains her glass and pulls away from the counter.

“More for me,” she chimes and grabs the bottle.

You feel a warmth on your lower back as Mr. Hansen’s cologne mingles with the scent of your cooking, “what’s for dinner, sweetheart?”

You realise he’s touching you. His hand slips under the wool of your sweater and his thumb rubs the skin along the top of your pants. You freeze and keep your hand steady as you simmer the veggies. You peek over at your mother, she’s too distracted with her glass.

“Bouillabaisse,” you answer in a brittle voice. You shift and his hand falls away, grazing the top of your pocket, a tickle on your ass.

“Mmm, fish,” he purrs, “I’m starving.”

“Shoo, shoo,” your mother waves her hand at him, “won’t cook faster with you hovering around.”

“Fine, fine,” he raises his hands defensively, “don’t burn yourself, Connie. I see you doing all this hard work–”

“Oh, you,” she sneers and grabs the dish cloth from in front of you where it hangs from the oven handle. She whips the end in his direction, “no wonder you and my husband get along.” She snaps him with it again, “you’re a bunch of jackasses.”

He cackles, unbothered by her anger, but retreating nonetheless. You keep your head down and your mother takes another thick gulp. She scoffs.

“Men,” she slurs, “no good. If you won’t listen to me about anything, you take that in, hon. They’re all trash.”

You refuse to look after Mr. Hansen or think about the shadow of his touch on your skin. Men are confusing, that’s enough to keep you away.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #the grey zone #the gray man #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #au #dark fic #dark!fic #series

362 notes · View notes

strwberri-milk · 11 months

Note

HELLOOOOO, may i request a smut where kaeya is still wearing his new outfit while fcking the reader? thank you :DD

yall the brainrot for this fit is REAL

You knew that Kaeya was getting a new outfit for some sort of stage play he was doing. He wasn't giving you too many details yet because he wanted you to stay surprised for when he finally unveiled the outfit to you.

To say you were surprised when you saw it is a dramatic understatement. Kaeya didn't deviate too much from his regular clothes when in uniform, nor in his personal life. You were used to him dressing fancily for nights out but this was something on a whole new level.

The way he leaned into this more fantastical style made your heart skip a beat, especially when he gave his signature one-eyed wink to you. You couldn't help but swoon, impatiently waiting for him to return to you so you could lavish him with some well-deserved attention. Or so you thought.

You wish he would take off something, any layer of clothing but of course he wouldn't. He's a tease, and he saw the way you squirmed just by looking at him. He loved it so much, absolutely obsessed with the way your eyes grazed over his form.

His cape draped over his shoulder, moving in time with each thrust of his hips. You could hear the clinking of all of the little jewels that adorn his clothes, wishing that he at least undid his braid so you could work your fingers through it but the way he kissed you any time you tried made your brain melt.

You consider yourself somewhat lucky that he at least was willing to pull his cock over the waist of his pants, your arousal darkening the lightly coloured fabric as he pumps into you with reckless abandon.

Kaeya has your wrists pinned to the bed, painted nails digging into your heated skin as you feel him coax another orgasm out of your body. You feel boneless, melting into his lap as he brings your legs to wrap around your waist. If it weren't for how tired you were you'd be more willing to appreciate the way the cool silks feel against your heated skin.

"Fuck, you got this worked up over just seeing me in this costume?" he growls into your neck, sucking in new marks as you moan pitifully.

"Yes, yes, oh fuck Kaeya," you whimper, nails digging into his clothes as he makes your back arch again.

"Please just fuck me more, please, I need you so bad." Your voice shakes, making Kaeya smirk against your skin as he angles his hips towards that spot that has you seeing stars.

"Guess this thief is stealing more than just money, huh? You practically just gave yourself to me," he chuckles, making you wish for the nth time he wasn't wearing those infuriating cuffs or so many intricate layers that it prevents you from actually touching him.

"Just let me cum again, just one more time," you plead, burying your face into his shoulder as he obliges kindly.

The low sound you let out from your throat makes him shudder, cock twitching inside of you as he fills you up. You can feel him spilling out of you, pulling his still hard cock out of you with an evil look on his face.

"Don't worry - I'm not done with you yet. Clearly, you're still very interested in this costume of mine."

#kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imapct x reader #kaeya smut

368 notes · View notes

juuuulez · 4 months

Text

📰 | part twelve: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour!Reader, no pronouns used for reader, slow burn, teenagers in love, cute Judith moments, dialogue heavy chapter, kinda just pure fluff, reader is an artist.

summary: You, Carl and Judith share a picnic away from all the troubles of war. Alternatively: the calm before the storm.

okay this was so so so so so cute!!! a very dialogue heavy chapter, but juicy so hopefully you all enjoy!!

next chapter will be…a LOT (pretty angsty) because guys it is our LAST CHAPTER!!! then there will be an epilogue to package everything up nicely

don’t worry, there will be waaayyy more xSaviour!Reader one shots to come because it’s my favourite trope, and i can work through tones of cute requests to keep us all with our required dose of carl grimes ;P

-> masterlist <-

You watched as Judith scribbled with her crayons, drawing nonsensical shapes and patterns onto her page. She seemed at peace with your presence, which made you a little bitter, knowing nobody else from Alexandria could ever see you in this light. After catching your staring, a chubby hand reached out, offering you a crayon.

“What’re we drawing?” You asked, leaning down to hover next to Judith. She didn’t answer, giving you that shy little smile, but nonetheless pushed a piece of paper towards you.

“It’s easier to find crayons than pens now,” Carl remarks, seated next to you on the blanket, “Do you guys have pens? At the Sanctuary, I mean.”

“Yeah. We’ve got pens.” You entertain the small talk, drawing a tree onto the page in waxy blue crayon. It starts out as a vague shape, though you slowly give it more and more detail, hatching in shading and even patches of grass at its base.

The silence resumes, though you’re content with that. Carl is, too. He’s just happy to have your attention, in a scenario without Alexandria or the Saviours or a war.

Despite this, you find yourself talking again, unable to keep these thoughts bottled up. Sometime, when you’re nervous, you run your mouth. Maybe Carl is making you nervous.

“Judith is lucky to have you.” You tell him, still colouring on the page. The admission catches Carl’s attention, and though he isn’t shocked with its contents, he’s a little surprised by the blatant display of.. vulnerability? He isn’t used to you being so personal.

“I know,” He agrees, “My dad says that family is the most important thing nowadays. He’s right.”

The idea leaves you thinking for a moment, and Carl can practically see the gears turning in your head. He liked digging deeper, seeing what made you tick, what was going on underneath those walls.

“Yeah,” You end up nodding, “I think I agree.”

“Y’know, that’s why we won’t punish you. When this war ends.”

It garners your attention, finally looking up from the paper. Carl is sitting next to you, whilst you’re lying on the blanket with Judith. He looks serious, but maybe a little solemn, not intending to steer the conversation down this dark path, yet viewing it necessary to discuss. He wants to be on the same page.

“My dad won’t kill Negan,” Carl continues, sounding quite sure of himself. “He thinks he will, but he won’t. I’ll convince him. I know I can.”

You look back down at the page, but don’t continue colouring. It’s a weird idea, that Rick would spare Negan. You couldn’t see how that would happen. But knowing Carl wanted to advocate for peace was nice. Comforting.

“Negan’s gonna kill Rick.” You eventually tell him, though it doesn’t hold the same certainty. It’s a bitter reality, loosing faith in your own people, yet with each day, this war is seeming more difficult to win.

Yet you know one thing. If given the chance, Negan would kill Rick. You knew he would. Carl knew it, too.

“That’s why you guys can’t win.” He tells you, not sounding too proud of the fact. Months ago, and he would’ve happily rubbed this in your face. But now, it made him feel a little nauseous.

You let the silence sit for a moment, and Carl worries he’s upset you. He hasn’t, but the whole situation is upsetting. Not that it’s his fault, which you keep reminding yourself.

So, you speak quietly, trying to be nice. “Can we not talk about this?” You suggest, throwing another glance up at Carl.

He takes pity on you, understanding that this was supposed to be a break from everything, though he feels a little better knowing the idea doesn’t make you outright hostile.

Carl lies down on the blanket, next to you, on his back whilst you lay on your stomach. He tilts his head towards you and Judith, brown hair pooling on the blanket and falling over his shoulders, bangs sweeping over his eyepatch.

You get an idea, shifting a little, focusing a tad harder on the drawing. One arm holds the crayon, and your other creates a barrier between Carl and the paper. Though, he doesn’t seem very focused, instead watching you.

“Does your head hurt?” He asks, eyes unconsciously drawn to the bandage wrapped around your head. It was almost silly, the way you matched, but Carl struggled to find any joy in that fact.

“Kinda. Just a headache,” You tell him, still drawing. At one point, Judith reaches out, trading you a yellow crayon in exchange for the blue one. “Did you find the bastard who shot me?”

Carl scoffs, a smile spreading onto his face. “Yeah. Someone from the Kingdom. Nobody you’ve gotta worry about, though.”

You roll your eyes, unbeknownst to how Carl inspects every inch of your face. “Who names their community the ‘Kingdom’? Pretentious assholes.”

“Like the ‘Sanctuary’ is any better.” He points out, which forces a smile onto your face, knowing that he has a point. It is a little silly.

Judith reaches out again, handing you a red crayon. You take it, giving her the yellow one you’d been working with, to which she happily continues scribbling on her side of the paper.

“Do you ever wish that things were normal?” Carl asks, once again prompting conversation. “Like.. would we have been friends, otherwise?”

“We aren’t even friends now,” You point out, sparing him a glance and smiling at his curious expression. So cute. “But no.. I don’t mind things how they are. I didn’t like my normal very much.”

This causes Carl to think, pondering on that statement. A light breeze brushes past, tussling his hair slightly, though he remains focused on you, looking so peaceful while you draw.

“Your normal… with Negan?” He begins, hoping that you would get the hint and fill him in. All this time, and yet he knows nothing about you.

You take the hint, giving a small shrug. “No. With my father.”

Carl tries to read your expression, to gauge how deep this wound is, but he struggles. “You didn’t get along very well?” He asks, voice soft and free of judgment.

It isn’t difficult to read your behaviour these past months. You’re snappy, easily agitated, and weirdly flighty yet strong and resilient at the same time. In many ways, your attachment to Negan is unnatural, though Carl presumed there to be a driving factor behind it all.

“No,” You confirm, “He was a heartless bastard.”

Carl nods, still lying on his back. The silence doesn’t last for long, as he still has more questions. “Did you have any other family?”

His curiosity didn’t piss you off, like it usually would. Maybe it’s because your guard was down, or maybe you felt you owed it to Carl, to open up with him a little.

“I had a sister. Younger,” You begin, speaking whilst you draw, “But she died at eight weeks old. My mother died with her, in childbirth. She was nice.”

There are a few beats where nobody talks. Even Judith has stopped playfully mumbling, though she pays no mind to your conversation. Your gaze flickers up to Carl, finding that he’s still watching you, seeming to be in thought. It’s like he sees something more: something beneath your surface, something you can’t even touch.

Or maybe he just relates. It’s surprising how much Carl understands you, to the point where he’s a little unsettled by it.

“Don’t ask depressing questions if you don’t want the answer.” You finally chime, trying to clear the air of this strange tension.

“No, it’s not that. I get it.” Carl concludes, his voice remaining in that soft tone, one that makes the hairs on your neck stand up. He doesn’t want you to feel bad.

You nod, reassuring him. “I know you do.”

Having such a personal conversation is strangely liberating. It makes you feel good, better than you usually do, better than anybody has had the ability to make you feel. For once, there’s a sense of peace, as you know Carl understands you.

The silence returns, but it’s pleasant this time. Trees in the distance rustle slightly in the wind, an atmosphere void of groaning corpses or yelling and fighting. You’ve never experienced that.

After a few more etches with the crayon, the drawing is complete. You spin around the piece of paper, sliding it to Carl with a smile. “For you.”

Carl sits up on his elbows, taking the paper to inspect it. It’s a sketchy crayon drawing of… well, him. Lying there, on the blanket. It’s surprisingly realistic, shapes accurately blocked out in a combination of yellow, blue, and red crayon. The very edge of his hat had been coloured in, messy pink scribbled roughly inside the lines by Judith

“When did you do this?” He asks, not having noticed you creating this masterpiece throughout the duration of the conversation.

You stifle a laugh. “Just then. I was gonna let Judith keep colouring it in.”

Carl nods, still fixated on the drawing. Nobody has ever drawn him before. “Can I.. keep this one?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll make Judith something else to colour.” You agree, already pulling out another piece of paper to sketch something a little simpler. Though you viewed that drawing of Carl a breeze, he was amazed by how you’d managed it in such a short amount of time.

“I didn’t know you could draw.” He says, finally taking his eyes off the paper, to inspect your newest creation. This time he’s set on paying attention, wanting to watch how it comes together.

That, and he thinks it’s very sweet that you were drawing with the intention of letting Judith colour. A lot of artists would probably be protective of their work, but yours served the sole purpose of making others happy.

You decide to draw the tree line, using an unnatural colour like orange to outline the landscape, in hopes that Judith would colour it green. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” You tell him, a strangely cagey answer, but Carl isn’t put off.

“I do want to know you.” He urges, and the conviction in his tone causes you to glance up at him, before back down at the page.

“You will. Maybe when this is all over.” You land on responding, an answer Carl can’t be unhappy with, as it fills him with the semblance of hope that you’re willing to open up to him. That you see a future where you get along.

He sets the artwork down, laying back on the blanket. “So… you agree? That all this will end?” He tests the waters with another question about the war.

“Don’t push your luck.” You immediately shut him down, a playful grin on your face.

Carl doesn’t mind, not when he’s already picked your brain so far. To him, you’re like a stray cat, any further and you’d start hissing and run away. He’d like to maintain this peace for a little longer.

So, Carl laid there whilst you drew an illustration for Judith. Eventually, the toddler gleamed with joy when you handed it over, eagerly scribbling in the lines with her colours. It was messy and unorganised, but brought you happiness to see that she was so immersed.

The two of you soaked in the sunshine, enjoying the quiet surrounding the clearing and absence of responsibility. Carl had somehow managed to coax you closer, to lay next to him, his hand guiding your head to his shoulder. It felt good, and you weren’t used to letting yourself feel good.

He ran his hand through your hair, careful not to disrupt the bandaged wound, finding it surprisingly soft. In a way, a lot of you was soft, and sweet. It was just buried underneath this rubble of anger and aggression, but Carl knew he could wiggle it out.

When this whole war ended, he hoped you’d be happier.

Regardless, the picnic was a nice getaway, though you tried not to seem too bothered when the sun had begun to set, and you knew you’d return to the Hilltop. It wasn’t your home. It was just some place where they held you captive.

“You’ll actually come and visit me, right?” You end up asking Carl as the pair of you pack up, you holding Judith while Carl stuffs the blanket into his bag.

He nods, “I will. I’ll come by your room every day until Negan takes this deal. Promise.”

That satisfies you, for now. At least you’d have some company, though the idea of being a hostage any longer was slightly sickening. For now, you’d put it out of your mind.

Carl leads you back up the hill out of the clearing, finding the car that he’d hidden away. You throw the bag onto the car’s floor, and buckle Judith into the back seat while he gets it started.

However, the bags zip wasn’t done up, fabric splaying open slightly to reveal that Carl had accidentally left the gun inside. It’s shameful that your first thought is to steal it: make an escape right now, leave for the Sanctuary and screw up this entire plan.

You lean down, palming the metal object. It would be a pretty large hike up there, but worthwhile if it gave the Saviours any power. Carl wouldn’t be able to stop you, as long as you had his gun.

Biting your lip, you pocketed it for the time being, coming to sit in the passenger side.

“When we get back, I’ll go ask Michonne how the deal is going. She’ll probably end up telling me,” Carl suggests, “You’ll feel a little better knowing what’s going on.”

The suggestion catches you off guard, watching Carl with a slightly surprised expression as it sinks in. That he’s willing to give you information simply to provide peace of mind. It’s a stupid idea, really, betraying the trust of Michonne and Rick and everyone else… but it’s sweet.

“You left this in the back.” You end up telling Carl, offering him the handgun. The words spill out before you can hold them back.

His brows furrow in concern, and mild irritation at his own forgetfulness, accepting the gun and hooking it back into his belt. “Shit. Thanks, wouldn’t want Judith grabbing it.”

The engine starts in a low rumble, filling the silence as you begin to drive back. Guilt wells in your stomach for even thinking about turning on Carl, and for the better part of the drive, you settle for watching the boy as opposed to the scenery.

“You alright?” He eventually asks, sparing you a glance before looking back to the empty expanse of road.

“Mhm,” You hum, “Just… grateful that you did all this..”

The admission causes Carl to grin, feeling an unfamiliar swell of pride, your thankful attitude boosting his ego. Even without words, the look he gives you makes you scoff, rolling your eyes and looking out the window.

A smile still grows on your face, knowing that he’s earned this victory. You reach out towards the dash, taking Carl’s hand and just holding it while he drives, allowing him to revel in his prize for a little longer.

taglist: @ilov3carlgr1mes @eminemxxeminem @strxwbxrrymarx @ilaaishi @iamaslytherin0 @grimeslvrr @anotherbook-obsessedhoe @kmsatm @ilovespiderpeople @hearts4mitski4 @jkvolgs @mysouleaten

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #carl grimes #twd x you #carl grimes x you #the walking dead

136 notes · View notes

rxgerthatt · 1 year

Text

save me darling, for you are my salvation

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings : 18+/smut/creeps/ no minors!

Summary : you own a cafe. Bucky’s trying to work through his shit.

A/N : two in one day? Aren’t you lucky.

When Bucky met you he was a changed man.

As changed as an ex assassin with a metal arm and superhuman strength could be.

Gone were the days of mission reports and masked, grime slicked faces. No more soviet slugs, no more murdering innocents. I’m James Buchanan Barnes, I’m no longer the Winter Soldier and you are part of my efforts to get my life back together.

Or something like that.

He’d taken up therapy. Once a week for one hour, unpacking decades worth of baggage he kept locked away in the folds of his mind. He’d come to your cafe after every session - 2pm on the dot - and not because the coffee was good.

Nah, he came because of you.

The bright eyed girl. Bouncing hair and gleaming smile. In another life he would have had no issue asking you out, but a hundred years of trauma has an affect on his confidence. You were like a soothing balm over his mind. After an hour of facing demons with gaping mouths, drooling nothing but trauma over his shoulder - seeing your smile made them shrivel into the darkness once more.

“Hey Bucky,” you beam, joyful, full of light and he wonders how you do it. “The usual?”

“Hey,” he sits at the counter. “Please doll.”

You sit your book down, get to work on making him a black coffee - one sugar because he needed the lift up.

You place it in front of him with a grin, “one black with sugar.”

He thanks you, “what you reading today?”

You push your book across the counter, bent corners, pages dog eared and he could tell it was well loved. A Time to Kill.

“You seen the movie?” You ask him, leaning your head in your hands and looking up at him through your lashes and fuck - if he hadn’t dreamed of that in another context.

Bucky shakes his head, takes a sip and watches as you think through what you say next.

“I’ve got it on DVD, you could borrow it or…” you trail off for a moment, before - fuck it. “You could come round? Only if you want.”

Your cute. Cheeks blushed pink, big eyes sparkling and how could he ever say no to you? His candle in the dark, warped reality of his life.

“Tonight?” He finds himself asking.

—

Your apartment is what he expects it to be - immaculate.

A humble one bedroom with eggshell painted walls and dark oak furniture. You open the door to him with a smile, ushering him inside. You’ve laid out snacks - popcorn, chips and these little jelly sweets in colour coordinated bowls.

He watches you as you load up the DVD player. It’s the first time he’s seen you out of uniform, short shorts and oversized graphic tee with these big fluffy slippers that look too big compared to your slender legs.

You have great legs.

“Never expected this to be your kinda film,” Bucky comments as you sit beside him, throwing him a blanket as you wrap yourself in your own.

“I find it best not to judge a book by its cover,” you reply with a smirk. “Who doesn’t love a good crime movie?”

You had a point.

As the movie played on you got closer, until his arm was resting on the sofa above you, two blankets down to one, your back pressed to his side and he was sure it was a good film - but he couldn’t concentrate. He just hoped you didn’t ask any questions about it.

He’d never been this close. To study the curl of your lashes as they kissed the tips of high cheekbones and the soft slope of your nose and the freckle you had just below your ear. You were the prettiest thing he��d ever fucking seen.

You yawn softly as the credits roll. Bucky moves to stand up but you call his name.

“You can take the sofa,” you rub your hands together. “It’s late.”

He nods, feels his heart jump and he doesn’t miss the breath of relief you let out at his acceptance. Maybe you thought he didn’t want you - the furthest thing from the truth - but he knew his exterior was steely - maybe he could let you in.

You bring him pillows, make the sofa look like the comfiest bed in the world and before you retire to your room you kiss his cheek.

“G’night Bucky.”

He leaves before you wake up.

—

Bucky found out he was jealous on a Tuesday afternoon.

He never remembers feeling like this in the 40’s - that green brush of envy as a jock leaned across the counter waffling words he couldn’t hear. You carried on working, humming occasionally but never really listening.

Bucky gets closer and your eyes shift to him, face lighting and you greeted him with that smile that melted his vital organs.

“Hey doll, just the usual please.”

You nod, refusing his money as you get to work on his coffee, and he wonders if the fact you’d never taken a dime from him was a sign you liked him. He hoped it was.

You’re turned away when Bucky catches shit-house in the corner staring openly at your ass - no shame, licking his lips with a smile and Bucky felt the involuntary shift of his metal arm beneath his clothes.

Punk.

“What’s it gonna take babe?” The jock says to you as you turn to clean the counter. You cut a glance in his direction, scowl on your face that Bucky had never seen before because it was so unlike you - his girl with the blazing smile.

“I’m here everyday, won’t you let me take that pretty ass out on a date?” What a gentleman.

You openly bristle, place a bill in front of him with a scowl.

“And I tell you everyday Nathan, I’m not interested in dating,” you respond. “Cash or card?”

Bucky chuckles. He’d never seen that side to you. Fire burning your fingertips, tongue like a whip as you shot his advancements out of the air - bang, bang, bang.

Bullseye.

Nathan finally looks at Bucky then, an icy gaze with stormy blue eyes - enough to scare a cat - not a super soldier.

“You find that funny?” He barks.

Bucky takes a sip of his coffee, grins as he says, “yeah actually, I did.”

As expected, Nathan storms out after paying - men like him have worse bark than bite - and Bucky was well equipped to deal with both. Especially when it came to you.

You sigh, shoulders slumped and you continue to clean. Bucky wonders how often you deal with assholes like that - everyday by the sounds of things. He couldn’t blame a man for trying, you were the most beautiful girl Bucky had ever seen, and he’d been alive for over a century.

“So you’re not interested in dating?” Bucky earns a smile from you, a small chuckle in your throat that still sounds defeated.

You work your arm in circles, counter spotless as you say, “I’m holding out for someone special.”

“Do I know him?” Bucky asks.

“You know him pretty well,” you blush.

—

When he finds out John Walker is Captain America - he goes to you.

He shouldn’t. It’s 3am but he doesn’t know where else to go, saunters the streets and he lands at your door; rapping his knuckles on the wood. Heart on his sleeve, tears brushing his eyes because how could they replace him?

How could they ever replace Steve?

His best friend. His one tie to another life. The only man that deserved the title of Captain America - not some jumped up military man, brainwashed by governments who tell him he’s doing the ‘right thing.’ To see that shield on another man’s arm?

That fucking hurt.

You’re confused when you open the door, groomed by sleep and you’re even prettier when you’re not done up - messy hair, sleep hazed eyes.

“Your neighbour let me in I-“

You move to let him inside, not needing the explanation and Bucky knew he came to the right place. His one solace, his salvation - you.

“Are you okay Bucky?” You ask him and he breaks down.

You hold him as he cries, rub his back with tender hands; his rock against a moving tide. The ocean tried to wash him away but he clung onto you, and his head stayed above water.

He fills in the spots you’ve missed. The parts of his life he wanted to share but was worried they would scare you off. Holy fuck - he wasn’t joking when he said he was 106.

The metal arm mesmerises you. You turn his palm in your hand with a - “I thought you said you had poor circulation?”

You make him laugh. Brew him tea and listen to his queries and you do a better job than Raynor ever could because he just needed someone to hear him, to understand him.

The dark fog lifts with your head on his shoulder, his hand combing through your hair and he apologises for getting you out of your bed. You tell him to shut up.

Nothing else matters when he’s here with you. These fleeting moments where he thinks he could do life like this, a normal life, with you - the girl from the cafe that stopped his heart when he first saw you. You chase away the dark, cocoon him in this blissful period of you and him - that’s all that mattered.

“I’m off tomorrow,” you announce. “You’re welcome to stay.”

“Thank you doll,” he replies.

You take his hand, lead him to your room and it takes him by surprise because it’s a fucking mess and that’s unlike you. You scratch the nape of your neck with a giggle, apologising but he doesn’t know what for.

He sleeps with you tangled around him, the warmth of your body rocking him to a deep slumber; the smell of your hair like a wet finger to a match on his nerves.

Yeah - he could do life like this.

—

You’re the one who kisses him for the first time.

There’s a picnic basket - homemade sandwiches and fresh cream buns on a soft patchwork blanket. The sun pounds on your skin, spot of butter on your chin and he wipes it away with his thumb. You giggle and it lights a fire in his stomach that licks its way through his insides.

You’re so close.

Your lips are soft, your smell intoxicating and he needs to remind himself he’s in a fucking park, but it’s hard not to let himself be completely consumed by you.

Bit late for that pal.

There’s a soft hum in your chest that sends signals straight to his mind, makes him light headed and hazy as he strokes a hand across your cheek.

For the first time he feels like a boy. He’s back in Brooklyn and if you’d been alive a hundred years ago he would’ve asked you to marry him because that’s how deep he’d drowned in you. Like a body of water, you flowed in waves. You pulled him into your current until all he could think of was you.

You giggle because he must look starstruck - blushed cheeks and blown out eyes, lips slightly parted because wow - you amazed him.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Bucky says.

“Why didn’t you?” You quirk your head.

“Been out of the game doll,” he chuckles. “Not good with hints.”

“If I said I liked you would that make it easier?” Your eyes sparkle.

“Let’s go back to your apartment.”

You laugh.

—

You’re in his lap, legs spilling across his thighs as you straddle him and Bucky forgets how to breathe.

His hands are everywhere - your hair, your face, up your shirt. Your tits fit perfectly in his hands, but they sit even better on your chest - perked to attention and fuck - they didn’t make them like you in the 40’s.

Maybe you were the reason he survived. All the pain and torture to reach this moment with you. His girl.

You make work of his belt, slip out his cock into your hand before spitting on it. Bucky groans, lets his fingers mess the wetness beneath your panties before you slide onto him with a whine. You move with ease, up and down - Bucky feels like he’s dreaming; mind clouded with lust and all he could feel was you.

“Fuck,” you say when he hits a particularly nice spot deep inside you and he makes a point of rutting up into you to reach it over and over again because he won’t last long. Not with you.

He throws his head back, blows out a breath as he feels the heat starting in his toes. He holds you hip with his metal arm, pounding into you relentless when he feels your legs grow weak and you did so well for him.

You were so good for him.

You fall forward as your pussy squeezes his girth, head on his shoulder and he’s chasing his high before yours is even finished.

You kiss him lovingly, dropping beside him and he pulls a blanket over you. Bucky kisses the top of your head, the sounds of heavy breathing and rapid heart rate battering against his eardrums.

His mind is blank.

“That was…” you drift off.

“Fucking incredible,” he finishes.

—

He brings you roses on your birthday.

Walked miles around town to find the best of the best because you deserve nothing less and he knows that.

He spots you through the window, cleaning a table in the back corner and he has to stop to watch you in this candid moment. He couldn’t believe you would pick him. The fucked up soldier with the fucked up past.

I’m James Buchanan Barnes and I’m the luckiest guy on the planet.

You look up when he walks into the cafe, not shy as you walk towards him, kissing him softly.

“Happy birthday doll.”

You thank him, holding the roses like a new born child and he notices Nathan scowling in the corner as you prepare them in a vase.

“Thought you weren’t into dating?” Nathan spits at you.

You smile at him, before glancing at Bucky with a smirk.

“I’m into older guys.”

Oh - you’d pay for that.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky x you

796 notes · View notes