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kpop---scenarios · 5 days

Text

Monster

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader x Lee Felix

Genre: Mafia, Arranged Marriage

Warning: None right now

Word Count: 3.4k

“Babe?” You call out, closing the front door of your apartment behind you. You set your bag down on the table in the front hall, slip off your shoes before making your way further inside. Heading into the kitchen, the lights are dim, your boyfriend's uniform is laid out on the table, ready for him to put on in the morning for the 24 hour shift he was going to be working. You wander into the living room, seeing Seo Joon sitting on the couch with his head laid back, softly snoring as the show he was watching continues. Gently, you push his shoulder to wake him up, grabbing his hand to drag him to your shared bedroom so you could both pass out. It was a long day and you were exhausted.

“How was your day?” Seojoon asks you, his eyes barely open as he slips off his shirt and then his pants, crawling into bed with just his boxers on.

“It was fine.” You mutter. “Pretty uneventful.”

“Sounds about right.” He says, letting out a big yawn. You crawled into bed beside him, scooching closer to him. You lean in to kiss him, his eyes shooting open. He turns his head slightly, so you catch his cheek instead of his lips. You're a little taken aback as you look at him, feeling hurt, which was a feeling you'd come accustomed to over time. You really weren't sure why you'd continued to let it bother you.

“I've got a big day tomorrow, I need to sleep.” He tells you, rolling over to face away from you.

“Yeah okay.” You huff. “My dad called earlier, I need to go see him tomorrow.” You say, rolling over too, your back facing his.

“I don't know why you're telling me, I'll be busy working. Again.” He sighs. You don't respond. You honestly don't know how to respond.

Your relationship with Seojoon wasn't always like this. At the beginning of the two of you dating he was very sweet to you, he would hold you, take you on dates, kiss you and actually be affectionate. Since he became a paramedic a year into your relationship, things have been different. He's been distant, cold and just not the man you fell in love with. You'd tried to talk to him about it - one too many times but he always said he was fine. You knew you weren't going to get anything out of him so you stopped trying. Sex was never a thing with the two of you, he told you from day one that he was saving himself for marriage, but that didn't stop the two of you from doing other things here and there, never consistently.

But now, it's been a year since any of that has happened, the longest it has ever been for you. The last time you rubbed your pussy on his clothed cock, you both came but the look he gave you made you feel like the most disgusting person, he looked at you with disgust. He made you feel insecure, but secure, and most of the time you felt safe with him. You also hoped that one day the man you fell for would return to you but for right now you were just taking it day by day.

The next morning, you're awake and dressed, ready to go to your father's house. Seojoon's side of the bed was cold, he had already been gone for hours.

On your way to your fathers house, you think about the talk you'd been hearing from various sources. Every person had been talking about these rumors that were floating around, things that were happening underground but you hadn't had a chance to speak directly to your father to see if there was any truth to any of it. He was the one you could go to about the things you'd hear and he would always tell you whether or not there was any sort of truth to any of it.

Your father was a very wealthy and a very feared man. A man that Seojoon did not know, and one you weren't sure if he would ever know. He was a man who took what he wanted, hurt whoever got in his way and made deals with a lot of people who others would consider to be the devil. You were the daughter of the second largest mafia organization in the country.

It was a life you had always known. Seojoon has never pressed the issue of meeting your father and you didn't know if you appreciated that fact, or sort of resented him for it. You also didn't think that confessing the fact that your father was participating in drug distribution, prostitution and all other illegal activities would do well to your relationship but part of you also wanted Seojoon to know where you came from. However, if you could trust him with that information, well that was a whole other story.

Late at night, when Seojoon was snoring beside you and you couldn't sleep, you thought about the things he didn't know or didn't want to know about, despite having been together for 3 years. He'd never asked you about your family, your childhood. The only information he ever got was things that you volunteered to tell him. Those thoughts would always leave you feeling confused about him, and whether or not he was truly in this relationship with you.

Your car comes to a stop in front of your fathers large house, two men in all black stand outside the front door, their fingers interlaced in front of them, not a smile on either of their faces.

“Wonho. Shownu.” You smile at both, they each give you a nod before opening the front door for you. You walk in, the familiar scent brings you back to your childhood, growing up in this house. The walls down the long hall are covered with pictures of family, friends and others your father has done business with. You make your way down the long hallway, listening to the buzzing chatter of the men roaming the house. It was always like this, as long as you could remember there were always so many people inside the house at all hours of the day and night. You've seen many things growing up here, men loading weapons in the living room, getting bullets pulled out of them on the kitchen counter. Going into the basement for a popsicle and seeing someone who ratted hung up with chains being tortured. It really didn't take you long to become accustomed to what was going on inside this house.

“Dad?” You call out, standing in front of the living room, but also near the kitchen and his office. It was always one of those three rooms you could find him in.

“In my office with Mia.” He yells back.

You figured. Mia was your half sister, his daughter but with the woman he married before he was with your mother. She was a few years older than you and the two of you never truly saw eye to eye. You felt like she hated you, and though she has never confirmed or denied, you maintained that thought.

“I've been hearing a lot of shit dad.” You say, walking into his office. Mia sits in front of your dad, who sits behind his desk. “You're marrying one of us off?” You say.

Mia looks back at you with wide eyes. “Is that what you wanted me to come today for? To tell me you've arranged a marriage for me? Because if that's true, it's not fucking happ…” She yells before being cut off by your father.

“No.” He says. “Well, not quite.” He continues. “Mr. Lee and I have been discussing joining our organizations. I've been wanting to get into trafficking and more in depth organized crime for a while, and he's been wanting to step foot into drug distribution.” He says. “You two know as well as anyone the best way to combine is through marriage.”

“I'm in a relationship though. A good.. well, a relationship.” You blurt out. Your father did not know about Seo Joon. Or so you thought.

“Yeah I know, with the nurse, or whatever. We're going to have to have a chat about him.” He says, pointing at you.

“He's a paramedic, dad.” You correct him. Your father just stares at you before turning to your sister.

“Mia, I mainly mean you. Mr. Lee has two sons. Lee Felix, and Bang Chan, as you know Mr. Lee took Chan into custody after Mr. Lee's best friend, Chan's father passed away. I don't give a fuck which one you choose, but you need to choose one. We’re having a party if you will, tomorrow. You'll meet them then. I expect you to wow them.” He explains. You take a deep breath, so fucking relieved its not you, but slightly stressed that your father knew about Seo Joon. You shouldn't have been surprised. You should have known your father finds out everything.

‘So I don't have to be there, right?” You ask, smugly smirking at the back of Mia's head.

“You are expected to be there, Y/N.” He says. Your smirk fades quickly. “Understood?” He asks.

You nod your head. “Yes sir.”

“What if I don't want to?” Mia asks, crossing her arms.

“This isn't up for fucking debate, Mia. Either you do it or I'll kick you out and cut you off.” Your father threatens.

The room is quiet.

Mia shuffles in her seat, uncomfortably as the awkward silence continues.

“Do I make myself clear?” He asks.

“Crystal.” She says, abruptly getting out of her chair and storming out of the room.

“Well I'm gonna head out.” You say, clearing your throat before turning towards the door.

“Y/N.” Your dad begins. “That boy. The one you're dating. It would be in your best interest to break things off with him.” He finishes, looking down at a stack of paper.

“We've been together for a while. We live together. I'm not going to just leave him. I know you haven't met him yet but..” you continue on.

“I don't want to meet him. I'm telling you now to end things. That's all. I've got work to do, I'll see you tomorrow. Don't be late.” He says, cutting you off. Typical of your father. You wished one of them had wanted to meet the other one.

You left your fathers house annoyed. Not really wanting to go to the party tomorrow but also at how your father acted. How could he tell you to break up with Seojoon without even having met the guy. As you drive off the property, you call your boyfriend just to check in and see how his day is going.

“What?” He snaps, answering the phone.

“Woah, sorry. Was just calling to check in.” You mumble.

“Well I'm busy, sorry.” He sighs. “How was your dad's?” He asks. You perk up a little at his question.

“It was fine. He wanted to let me know about a party he's throwing tomorrow evening.” You say. “I don't suppose you'd be feeling up to accompanying me?” You ask.

“I have to work, YN. I picked up an extra 12 hour shift after this one so no, I can't come with you to your fancy party. Some of us have to work for a living.” He snaps.

You're quiet.

So is he. For a second.

“I gotta go. Bye.” He says, hanging up the phone. You really fucking wondered why you were even in this clearly one sided relationship.

That night you ate dinner alone, crawled into bed alone, and woke up the next morning alone. You checked your phone and you didn't even have so much as a “Hi” text from your boyfriend. You felt done. You didn't want to try anymore, you didn't want to care anymore. It was exhausting to be in a one sided relationship with him. You were done being the one to call or to text. You were done being the one to start conversations or be affectionate. Whether or not he noticed would be the sign that you needed on if you were going to continue things with him.

Later that afternoon you got ready for the party. You hadn't heard anything from Seo Joon and you weren't going to be the one who messages him first. If he wanted to talk to you then he would reach out to you. Arriving at your father's house, the front door is wide open, you can hear the music from outside, as well as a ton of people waiting to get in. Shownu and Wonho were standing in front of the door, checking the lists to make sure only the ones your father wanted got into the house. There were too many groups who either wanted to ambush your father or get into business with him and he didn't want to deal with it tonight.

“Excuse me.” You say. “Pardon me.” You say, moving through the crowd of people towards the front door.

“You look good.” Wonho smiles, winking at you before moving sideways to let you in.

“So do you.” You smile, moving past him inside. It was your typical type of party. Food, a lot of drinks and a lot of serious conversations and deal makings. You quickly grab a drink, chugging it back before grabbing another one and one more just in case. You looked around for your father to say hi, but instead your attention was caught by an extremely handsome man trying to talk to your sister. You sat on the couch behind them, listening to him try to say anything at all to Mia.

“Hey there.” He says, going to tap her on the shoulder.

Mia doesn't even give the poor man any acknowledgement. You take another sip of your drink, smiling as you watch him awkwardly stand there, trying to figure out something else to say.

“Hi.. uh, are you Mia?” He asks. She turns to look at him, scoffing before turning back to those she was talking with. You can't help but laugh, a little too loudly. He turns to look at you as you cover your mouth, trying to hide your giggles.

“What?” He asks.

“I.. nothing.” You smile. “Good luck with her.”

“Believe me.” He sighs, sitting next to you. “I don't want to be talking to her, but my father is making me.”

“You're one of the two who is supposed to get married, aren't you?” You ask.

“How do you know that?” He asks.

“L/N Y/N.” You smile.

“Ahh, the sister to.. that one.” He laughs. “Bang Chan, but you can call me Chan.” He smiles. Before you can answer, a second, overly attractive man stands beside Mia, smiling. He tries to talk to her, but she gives him the exact same treatment as she gave Chan.

“Bro. Don't even bother.” Chan sighs, pulling him to the couch. “YN, this is Felix, Felix, Y/N.”

“Hi.” You smile.

“Mia's sister.” Felix smiles.

“The one and only.” You laugh, finishing your drink. “You're better off not to even try with her, she doesn't want to get married.” You say.

“You say that as if we actually have a choice.” Felix laughs.

“Well, I mean.. it sucks to suck.” You grin.

“You do know that whoever she doesn't pick, is marrying you, right?” Chan says.

You choke. You don't know what you choked on, but it was something. “I.. what? No, that's not a thing that's happening.” You laugh. Your dad would have told you, right? “Besides, I'm in a relationship.” You say.

“Ah, yeah, the cop.” Chan says, rolling his eyes.

“He's a paramedic.” You respond, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh right.” He snickers. “The paramedic.” He says, looking at Felix, who gives him a knowing look.

The rest of the evening you spent with both those men. The conversation flowed so easily, nothing was forced, you never ran out of things to talk about with them. It was honestly refreshing. The fact that they asked you questions about yourself, things that Seojoon hadn't even asked you, and he was supposed to be your boyfriend. At the end of the night you said your goodbyes to them, and you didn't want to. You wanted to continue being with them, there was just something about them that made you feel safe and secure being around them. That night when you got home, your apartment was empty. You walked in, got yourself ready for bed, checked your phone and there were no messages from Seo Joon. At this point, you were tired of him not even trying with you. You didn't care anymore. But you did care about what Chan had said earlier. you couldn't get it out of your head. You laid down, your mind replaying what Chan had said about Seo Joon, over and over.

“Ah, yeah, the cop.”

He wasn't a cop. Those are two very different professions, you can't just mistake a paramedic with a cop. You closed your eyes, and it takes you back to a moment where you had overheard a conversation that made you question, Seo Joon. Honestly at the time you had thought he was cheating on you, but now you weren't sure if it was cheating or maybe he really is a cop?

You were laying in bed, alone, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Seojoon had been in bed with you but you assumed he thought you were sleeping when you heard him on the phone.

“Hey..” he sighs. “Yeah no, I know. No No, I don't think she suspects anything.” He chuckles. You can hear him shuffling around in the kitchen. “Look, I'm trying my best here with her. This shit isn't easy.” He snaps. “I'll try that. Yep, I'll keep you updated. Bye.” He begins walking towards the bedroom, you lay back down, closing your eyes, snoring softly. You can feel the bed dip slightly beside you. He scrolled through his phone for a few minutes before he plugged it in and went to bed. You barely slept that night, wondering if he was cheating and who he was cheating with.

You close your eyes, wanting to stop reliving memories that hurt you. It wasn't beneficial for anyone. You tried to sleep again, until your phone pinged. You had hoped the message was from Seojoon.

It wasn't.

[From: +82-463-3629] Hey, Y/N. It's Chan.

[From: +82-394-1293] And Felix. It was good talking to you today.

[From: +82-463-3629] It was. We wanted to know if you wanted to hangout tomorrow night?’

[From: +82-394-1293] Unless you and your ‘paramedic’ boyfriend have plans?

You chuckle at the conversation already.

[To: +82-463-3629,+82-394-1293] No plans. What did you guys have in mind?

The next night, even though you knew better, you put on your little black dress that hugs your curves, your favorite shoes and got yourself out the door, without a word from your boyfriend, if you could even call him that anymore. You wanted to forget about him tonight. You walk outside your apartment, looking around, you hear a car honk at you. You turn to look, seeing Felix smiling as he holds open the passenger door for you.

“You look beautiful.” Felix says, helping you into the car before closing the door.

“He's not lying.” Chan smiles.

“Thank you guys.” You laugh. “Where are we going?” You ask.

“Some of the men in our group own a club. We were thinking of drinks and maybe some dancing.” Chan smiles. You buckle your seat belt happily.

“Sounds great to me.”

The three of you sit at a table, drinks scattered all around. You're all drunk, laughing, having a great time until you turn your head towards the bar, and you see Seojoon standing there with a woman. Your smile drops, you look away, Chan and Felix notice immediately.

“What?” They both ask. Felix stretches a little, looking at the bar. He spots Seojoon immediately, and understands.

“That's him right?” Felix asks. “Your boyfriend?”

“How did you know that's him?” You ask.

“Believe me, I know a lot of things.” Felix says. You turn around to look at him, just in time to see his arm snake around the waist of a woman you recognized.

Chaeyoung. She was Seojoon's partner at work. Why were they dressed up and at the bar? Why didn't he tell you? Why wasn't he at work? What the fuck was happening?

“You okay?” Chan asks.

“I'm fine.” You smile. “That's his work partner. It's fine. Everything is fine.” You mutter.

Everything was not fine.

273 notes · View notes

buckyalpine · 7 months

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I’m going to redo this story. Here is a version I wrote that I feel is okay but I have another version in mind so I’ll write that tooo. I didn’t want to throw this away completely so maybe at least 1 person will like this 😭 @paulasocean another version is coming bb ❤️

"Okay, I can't for the life of me remember what happened during this mission" Nat grumbled while sitting in the conference room, catching up on paper work after Fury had demanded all mission reports be handed in by the end of the week.

"Honestly, neither can I" Steve shook his head, rubbing his temples, the past few months all melting into a blur. Everyone had been running back to back missions, prioritizing actually saving people over filling out reports. "I only filled out half of it and before I could finish, someone put it away"

"Please tell me it's somewhere in this building, I can't spend the rest of the day writing about how many time Steve jumped off a roof with zero protection" Bucky groaned, most of his mission reports consisting of all the recklessness his bestfriend did.

"Go check the records room, someone probably filed it there" Tony suggested while Bucky nodded, heading down to the very bottom of the compound where there were rooms upon rooms filled with documents on every criminal and terrorist organization to exist as well as individual cases. Steve and Nat followed, the both of them wandering through the shelves where the most recent reports were, quickly locating the latest one.

"He's this big billionaire with the most advanced technology in the world and but he's keeping records in the basement like a creepy grandpa" Nat huffed, scanning the shelves.

"You'd think he'd have these all digitized by now, given how much he loves technology" Steve snorted while Bucky remained silent, preoccupied with a different row of shelves that caught his eye. His heart hammered a little harder than usual as he looked at the five full floor to ceiling shelves that were solely for Hydra. He was sure at least two shelves would be for his atrocities alone.

"Buck, c'mon" Steve patted Bucky's shoulder, already seeing where his bestfriends mind spiraled, "Nat found what she needed, let's get out of here punk"

"Just-give me a second" Bucky murmured, opening one of the drawers and flipping through the papers, swallowing thickly at some of the agents he'd recognized, ones that had tortured him to no end.

That's when another face caught his eye.

His blood ran cold, flipping through the pages faster, hoping there was some sort of mistake.

It couldn't be.

It was your face, over and over again but under a different name.

Svetlana Petrovitch

"St-Steve?"

"What is it Buck" Steve frowned, seeing the color drain from Bucky's face, taking the file from his hands, his own eyes growing wide.

"Please tell me that isn't her"

"That's y/n" Steve murmured, not understanding where there was a file on you at all, let alone why it was associated with Hydra. Bucky grabbed the filed back before looking at others, his anxiety only getting worse. "Svetlana?"

"These aren't files on those who were taken or held captive. This whole shelf is just for agents who have worked for Hydra throughout the years. They're all Hydra agents"

Bucky needed it to be a mistake, a misprint, a file placed in the wrong section, you were his whole world, you would've told him if you were associated with hydra. His mouth wen dry, clutching onto the papers as he wordlessly made his way back up to find you.

You had been gone all morning, insisting you were just going to grab coffee but now he had his suspicions. You usually always asked him to tag along everywhere but every so often, about every two weeks, you would disappear on your own for hours on end.

He'd also hear you speaking to someone on the phone in hushed whispers but he'd never once questioned it but based on what he'd just seen, he had no idea what to believe.

Who were you.

He tossed the file onto the table as soon as he saw you in the room, the tick in his jaw worrying you. You got up, making your way over to brush his cheek, freezing when he stepped away from your touch as if it would burn him. Everyone left the room, sensing this was a private moment between you both.

"Bucky, is everything okay-

"Where were you"

"I-

"Tell me where you were this morning"

Your heart sank to your stomach, the guilt plastered on your face causing his emotional turmoil to worsen.

"I-I told you I went for coffee" Your shaky voice lacked truth, only confirming his suspicious further.

"Did you work for Hydra?"

"Bucky-

"Y/n, it's a yes or no question, were you a hydra agent or not"

"I-

The fact that you hadn't said no, the fact that you looked guilty, unable to look at him directly in the face was enough to send Bucky over the edge.

"H-how could you?!”

"James, you don't understand!-

"No. No" Bucky shook his head, tears welling in his eyes, his stomach twisting in knots. "Don't. Just don't"

"Baby, please just listen to me-

"Is y/n your name? Hm?" His eyes were red from unshed tears, a part of him still desperately hoping this was all a bad dream. That his girl, the woman he trusted with his entire life, was really who he thought she was, "Or is it Svetlana. You were part of them. You probably still are, is that why you came here? Did you pretend to love me all this time just to get me back to them? Is this what all of our relationship was to you? Find a way to get the Winter Soldier back?"

"Bucky stop!" You cried out, your voice cracking, wiping away at your wet cheeks. You couldn't get a word in as he backed away from you, shaking his head, feeling disgust and confusion at the same time. His heart yearned for you but he wouldn't be able to over come this. "Please-

"There's nothing to listen to. How-how can I ever trust you again" His throat felt like it was being squeezed shut all over again, just like the days Hydra strapped a collar on him to hold him in place every time he was wiped. "I don't even know who you are anymore. I-I love you but I can't-

"Bucky don't do this, just let me explain-

"YOU CAN'T! THERE'S NOTHING FOR YOU TO EXPLAIN!" He snapped, making you flinch back. "You-you could've told me! How am I supposed to trust you?! I've told you my darkest memories and-and fuck, you would've already known, right? This was all a game to you, you would've already known everything I'd ever done. Were you part of that too? Huh? Did you also have a say in all the shit they did to me when I was under their control?"

"NO!" You shook your head, covering your ears, unable to take the words he was saying to you, never in a million years would you ever have done such a thing to the man you loved with your entire being. "Jamie, I would never, I love you, just sit down with me baby, please-

"I'm sorry. We're done. For good. I can't even look at you. You know I love you, fuck, I-do you have any way how much I love you" Bucky's voice dropped to a whisper, moving to softly cup your face in his hands, brushing away at the tears that continued to spill from your lashes. He traced his thumbs along your soft cheeks on last time, his soul feeling like it was being ripped from his body as he dropped his arms back to his sides. "But I can't do this"

He stormed out of the room without looking back leaving you torn, broken and sobbing. You ran past the others who were still worriedly waiting outside and right to your room, locking it, instructing FRIDAY to forbid anyone else from entering.

It didn't take long for you to pack all your things. You didn't have much.

You never did.

You left behind all of Bucky's Henleys that you'd stolen along with all the sweet gifts he'd bought you on your dresser; you figured he wouldn't want to see you anyway.

You had left the compound by that night.

Steve signed at the sight of his best friend spending another night destroying himself at the gym, dark red stains covering the leather of the nearly torn punching bag.

"No one knew?" Bucky's voice was hoarse from nights of crying and getting by on coffee and taking out his frustrations out on the gym. He'd stayed in his room for days on end, not speaking to anyone, his head and heart aching. His knuckles were split from how hard he'd been punching the bag, only to be held back by Steve who couldn't stand to see Bucky like this anymore.

"No. None of us knew anything. I spoke to Tony, those files were sent to us directly through SHIELD. When Tony ran his background checks, everything came up clear. There's gotta be more to this Buck. Why don’t you-"

"I loved her" Bucky shook his head, still feeling betrayed over all the things he didn't know. "But I can't"

Weeks went by and Bucky grew more reckless. Not having the love of his life by his side coupled by the fact that there were so many unanswered questions pushed him further and further to the edge. He hated that he still dreamt about you every night, tossing and turning in his cold bed, without you there to keep him safe and warm. You were on his mind every single day and every single part of him wanted to know where you'd gone, how you were doing, guilt starting to eat a him.

He never gave you a chance to explain yourself, jumping at you the second he thought you had strong ties with Hydra, that you were an agent yourself. He'd never even let you get a word in, breaking things off without a second guess.

To make things worse, he'd gone as far as accusing you of also being part of all the pain he'd been put through.

No one knew where you'd gone.

Except Tony.

"Just tell me where she is" Bucky ran his hands through his already messy hair, pacing up and down Tony's office while the billionaire sighed. "Please"

"I can't. She asked me not to and I can't break that Barnes. Plus you broke up with her, it's not like she left cause she wanted to"

The guilt that was already eating at him only worsened as he sat down in defeat, angrily wiping his face.

"Is there anything you can tell me? Something? Anything, I'll take anything at this point, I fucked up so badly"

"The most I can do is let you know if she comes back or if she wants to talk to you"

Bucky didn't press the issue more, taking it upon himself to scour the records room again to see if there was anything else on you but he came up short. There were no other files on a person with the last name Petrovitch. He never actually looked through your file properly, feeling too much anxiety from the first time he'd seen it. When he bothered to read it again, there was hardly any information, only having a few fuzzy pictures of you at the base with some other agents as well as how long you'd been there for.

There was one place he'd get his answers from.

SHIELD.

"Who is y/n"

"Sargent"

"TELL ME" Bucky's voice nearly shattered the glass, causing Fury to flinch while the others took a step back. After Tony didn't reveal your location, Bucky went straight to the head office, his brooding glare alone getting him instant access to the top floor. The team accompanied him for moral support but also to keep things under control just in case, everyone standing in the directors office on edge. "You kept this from me, from everyone here, I need to know, what does she have to do with Hydra"

Fury sighed, pulling out a thick file from a second safe, dropping it onto the table, shifting through papers before pulling out one of a picture from when you were young. Bucky recognized the twinkling eyes, his heart breaking all over again for the young little girl in the picture, lost and innocent.

How the hell did he think you'd been an agent.

"Y/n, y/l/n. Originally named Svetlana Petrovich by Hydra. Her birth mother had been used as an experiment to procreate more super soldiers in case the serum couldn't be replicated. The serum didn't take so she was rendered useless. Her mother was never seen again. Her supposed father was one of the many soldiers who had been given a different version of what Sargent Barnes has"

Bucky was frozen in place as Fury spoke, feeling absolute agony over the words he's said to you. Your broken face and pleading voice played over and over again, making him nauseous.

"Hydra kept the child in hopes of using training her into a weapon. She was cared for by a woman who was appointed to be her handler. She raised the child differently, without anyone else knowing. Don't ask me how she did it, we don't even have a name"

Everyone continued to listen in stunned silence while he spoke.

"Agent y/l/n wanted to escape but remained at the base to ensure no one hurt the woman who had taken care of her. She didn't go on any missions but she was trained to be one of the strongest soldiers they had, hence the images of her at the base with other Hydra operatives. She remained there until the woman's death and escaped the very same night. We recruited her a few years later"

"How do you know all this and why didn't anyone know" Steve stepped in while Bucky remained silent, trying desperately not to break down. Not only had you been born into the worst situation but you only remained there to protect the one person who was like a mother to you after you lost your own.

"I have my ways, Captain. She didn't want anyone to know. She wasn't proud of the fact that she'd been brought up in such a place. She left it all behind but wanted to use her skills for good. There's a reason she one of your top agents. She didn't learn those skills from just anywhere"

Bucky wordlessly walked out of the room, unable to sit and hear another word. His heart broke for the baby who'd been forced into Hydra's hands without a fighting chance. Yes, you had been raised by someone who wanted to love and care for you but you'd been tortured and trained more than anyone else and after you finally escaped with a life for yourself, he'd accused you of betraying him. He hated that he had come to Fury for answers when he could've just let you speak instead, letting his own anger cloud his judgement. He still didn't know where you'd disappeared to or who you'd be on the phone with but Bucky had to speak to you, no matter what it took.

"I'm only giving you her location because she sounds miserable and I'm assuming it's because she misses you. If she pulls a gun my head because of this, its on you" Tony mumbled, scribbling something onto a sheet of paper and stuffing it into Bucky's hand. "You better grovel your ass off"

Bucky couldn't care less about traffic laws as he swerved through the streets to get to you, his motorbike revving through the city till he reached a dingy looking apartment building. He frowned, double checking the address before parking his bike and walking to the lobby. Bucky made his way to the concierge, the man seemingly recognizing him immediately.

"Sargent, I'm assuming you're the boy she's been moping over" The man at the front desk gave him a pointed look, giving him a key and directing him to go to the top floor before he could even say anything. Bucky's cheeks reddened with embarrassment, nodding with a thank you before dashing off to get to you.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he was surprised to find the peeling and dusty hall way empty with just one door right in the middle. His heart hammered against his chest as he shakily raised his hand to knock. He could hear shuffling on the other side, wiping his palm against his jeans when he hard the lock click open.

"Baby, I'm so sorry I- oh-mam, I'm sorry, I must have the wrong address-“

An elderly woman opened the door, her eyes twinkling as she looked him up and down, taking his metal hand in hers and pulling him inside. Bucky stood in confused silence as he entered the large apartment, which was a stark contrast to the mess it appeared to be on the outside. The interior was sleek; the apartment large enough to take up the entire floor. It made sense why the whole hall only had one door. A large living area was off to the right, decorated with a mix of abstract and modern art; a lot of the pieces reminding him of things that you would paint yourself-

"You must be James" she hummed, taking him into the living room while Bucky's jaw was still hanging, utterly perplexed over where he was. "Let me get your girl"

"My girl?"

Before he could get another word in, the woman disappeared, coming back moments later, dragging you with her. You stood stiffly, refusing to meet his eyes while she huffed, giving you a gentle push towards him.

"Now you both sit and talk" And with that, she left.

"Y/n" Bucky want to fall to his knees and beg you to forgive him, his heart breaking over the way you looked at him like a stranger. The eyes that used to hold so much love, so much spark were now hollow and empty and full of hurt.

"No. You didn't even give me a chance to explain myself Bucky" You kept your voice as steady as you possibly could, your throat already starting to grow painfully tight. You weren't one to cry easily, especially after years of training to repress your emotions but Bucky was your weakness.

"I know. I was wrong, I should've listened to you, it was so wrong of me, I-It's just-I'm not excusing myself, I promise, it's just-I didn't know what to think and I'd always hear you on the phone, sometimes you'd disappear for hours and you wouldn't tell me where, I-I'm sorry I thought the worst when I saw that file. It doesn't change the fact that I didn't let you get a word in. I'm so sorry angel"

You sighed, letting your heart soften. You knew Bucky came with his own baggage of trust issues and while you'd wanted to tell him about the phone calls and visits, you worried about if any of it would make him uncomfortable.

"It was my mother" You whispered, anxiously fidgeting with your fingers, "That's who I'd call and come to see. Well my adoptive mother. Handler. She was like a mother to me"

"But-I thought-" Bucky blinked in confusion, Fury had made it clear the woman had passed before you escaped, "She's alive?"

"I helped her escape with me. We faked her death so they wouldn't come searching for her. She had been captured there to work as a nurse. We changed our names. I didn’t want her living there anymore after I left. This is her place; Tony was nice enough to renovate a penthouse for me without asking questions. Before I joined the team, we'd lay low in cheap rentals. Now I know she's always safe. The concierge is a trained agent"

Bucky felt an inkling of hope when he stepped towards you and you didn't step back. He nervously brought his hand to hold yours, letting out the breath he was holding when you didn't pull away.

"Please forgive me baby, I-I should've given you a chance to explain, I'm so sorry" Bucky squeezed your hand, his thumb coming to brush away the tear that trailed down your cheek.

"You hurt me" You whispered, sniffling. "I'm not upset that you got mad or felt hurt and confused. But you thought I was an agent Bucky. You-you thought I'd do something to hurt you" The last word barely made it out as the first sob escaped. You were able to take Bucky's hurt and confused but no the fact that he'd doubt your love for him, "Did you think I-I didn't love you?"

"No! I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry baby. For everything. For everything you had to go through, for everything I said. I shouldn't have acted like that. I should have trusted you, I know you love me, no one's ever loved me the way you do doll"

“How could you not trust me. Why didn’t you at least let me explain it to you Bucky”

“I know baby, m'so sorry" Seeing your walls crumble made Bucky's heart ache, his body moving on its own to wrap you in a protective hug. He hated to be the cause of your tears, understanding why you'd been nervous to tell him about your past. Of course you came with your own traumas from Hydra and even though he endured similar things, it still wasn't easy to open up about. "Will you please come back home? You don't have to stay in our room, you don't even have to forgive me, just- please baby"

You melted into his embrace having missed his warmth, his scent, his safe arms.

"I should have told you. I-I was scared-

"Shhh, I understand. You don't have to explain it, m'sorry i didn't know and lashed out. Please come home baby" He whispered against your hair, kissing the top of your head while keeping you pressed to his body. You nodded against his chest, too lost in hugging him back to notice your mother's watery smile or happy sniffles.

"Take me home, Bucky"

Of course after you'd come home, Bucky continued to earn your forgiveness, making sure you understood he'd never doubted your feelings for him. He starts to join you as well when you go to visit your mother, blushing when she calls him handsome. Butterflies erupt in his tummy when she give him her blessing while he fidgets with a ring he'd bought, keeping it safely in a velvet box for the right moment.

During vulnerable nights there are times where he needs you to hold him and nights where you need him just as much. He loves that he can comfort and hold you too, letting you pour your heart out when you feel like it or humming soft lullabies till you fall asleep when you don't feel like talking. One thing that is for sure, he'd never push you away from him again. There no one else on this earth that he loves and trusts more than you.

Once again, this version was meant to be trashed so. pls.

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goldsbitch · 6 months

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Right?

summary: Y/N is a photographer for McLaren F1 team. Hard working, goal oriented professional who would never put her career in jeopardy for some stupid crush, right?

That is until a photoshoot gets out of hand and there is no way to go but forward.

warning: swear words, male x female, angst

part 2

______________________________________________________________

You're a professional. Right? Always been, proud of your hard work and strong will. If you want something, you go and get it.

It's by no chance that you're standing exactly here - in the McLaren F1 paddock, in the middle of buzzing neatly organized and timed chaos prior to the start of the race. "Read the grid, feel the paddock" was a line burned to your memory by your first boss, now the Media head of Redbull. You've learned what each and every one of the people do, what their job entails, because one day, one day you want to be more than a photographer for the team's social media.

You're a professional. Had a dream and went for it, no matter the sacrifice or long hours. Always on the road, detached from your peers. Because your heart beats for this.

You'd never do anything to compromise your job. Right?

The hardest part to ignore is his scent. You can evert your eyes when he walks to the room like he owns it - and one would say he actually does, he is the team's no. 1 driver for god sake. His voice can almost be blocked out by focusing on a conversation with a different person or headphones if the situation allows. But his scent seems specifically tailored to messing with your ability to focus, so much sothat you've considered wearing a mask and pretending to be a super freak about germs.

Ironically, scents are hard to recall. And you would know, you've tried several times on lonely nights in hotel rooms, with the goal to make you finish just a little bit faster. A moment you'd really love to forget is standing in a perfume shop trying to figure out what is that magical formula. Because it can't be due to the fact that he is wearing it. Right?

However hard it is for you on the inside, one would never know of your tiny little crush from the outside. Always keeping it casual, with every photoshoot staying professional and holding it together.

It was Lando who had the idea to do more of an intimate (his words, not yours) photoshoot than usually, to spice up the feed, as he bluntly said during a casual PR catch up. This was the reason why you were standing here. In the middle of the forest, alone with a big camera and one light for the subject in question, your biggest crush in history. You were sure he was having a great time putting you outside your comfort zone, the cheeky fuck he was. But then again, he probably really did not give a shit.

"I can't focus if you'll keep looking at me like that," Lando stated like a spoiled child.

"Come again?" you asked, geniuenly confused.

He jumped around few times, as if he was about to run a marathon. "Show a little enthusiam, why so bleh today?"

"You're right, my mind went somewhere else."

"Oh, am I boring you? Well, that's bad. We should be promoting my merch here, but even the person paid to be here can't seem to be bothered!" His tone changed. He raised his eyebrows, challenging you to up your game.

You're a professional. No doubt about that.

Focus, get your head back. Your energy boosted up again, here we go! "Ok, Norris, back to work!" You're well aware that a great photo comes from the subjects ability to connect with the photographer. "You're right, this isn't working. Let's get into the car."

You both left the random wood spot and returned to his sports car that brought you here. "Sit on the driver's seat" you instructed.

"Oh, as if there is a different way this would go down."

"Come on, let's drive around. And be fast," not sure if you were incouraging him or yourself.

"Like the sound of that. Buckle up, otherwise you'll have blurry photos."

And with that he reversed back on the main road.

After about 15 minutes of driving back and forth with a casual drift on the turns, getting pictures of him driving in his new jacket and shades, the adrenaline levels were pretty up in both of you.

"Parked it up here" you instructed again, having him stop on a hill with a view on a city lights in the background. "These are amazing!" you said after a brief look on the photos.

Lando was curious as ever. "Show me!"

"No, you'll see them on the right time. Do you trust me?"

He licked his lips. "Surprise me?"

"Lean back."

You really got into the zone, already super excited for the pictures. They had everything, interesting lighting, composition and Lando was doing an exceptional job with his smiles. However, you knew it could give more.

"This is great Lando, truly great job! But let's do more and push it further, you ok?"

"Just tell me what to do." He looked like he was really enjoying the attention, but you tried to block any of these thoughts out.

"One thing photographers recommend is for the model to try and look into the lens as if you want to seduce it, capture those looking at the picture...It's for making models less focused on the camera and being more attractive..."

Lando pulled out his best smirk yet. "Oh, I'm not attractive enough to be your model now?"

"Come on. You know what I mean."

"Nah, I don't," he lied. "Elaborate, I'm just a simple driver."

Now you were getting annoyed. "Just imagine the lens is someone you want to, em, who you would like to"

"-Fuck?"

"Yes."

"As you wish." And as you asked he did.

He probably did it without much of a thought, but you were perfectly aware of how he fixed his posture, opened his lips a bit, moved his and got this look on as if he wanted to eat you - in the best way possible. This got you in the zone, striking one photo after another, moving your camera and getting closer to get the details, completely forgetting you were both there to shoot his new merch.

Battery low. You would have cursed yourself in that moment. Only you hardly had a second to think about this. When you put your camera down, you realized the nonexistent proximity between you and Lando. You were sitting above him on the back seat with him staring up to you.

You froze for a moment, knowing there is no battery left in the bag.

"Well that is us done for today," you focused on the camera. How on Earth can you be so stupid.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." You suddenly realized you were way, way to close to Lando. The damn scent, again.

"Damn, I like these kinds of photoshoots."

"Uhm, yeah." You did not want to move, but it was becoming socially unacceptable for you to be sitting on him for this long.

"Have you done this with Oscar?"

It's hard for you not to laugh at that thought. Every photoshoot with Oscar was a nightmare with the atmoshephere being so dry that everyone with an inch of taste had to tell from the photos immediately.

"Not yet," you said trying to preserve the facade. " But if these work out and the team likes them, we might recreate this with him?"

As if that was even remotely possible. You should move now. Why isn't he moving?

"Shame, thought it was our thing," his voice was becoming more raspy with every sentence.

And with that - you lost it.

"You still have the look." How is this sentence coming out of your mouth?

"What look?" he said, moving even closer to you.

"The models look."

"Remind me which one."

"The "Fuck Me Look"...But I'm not taking photos anymore."

"Interesting."

"Why?" You stopped breathing a while ago.

"Because I think you have it too."

part 2

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris angst #mclaren

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bellaramseylover · 8 months

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oblivious

Pairings: Hazel Callahan x Fem! Reader

Summary: Hazel being super oblivious to you liking her, so you have no choice but to tell her.

Request: Friends to lovers and have Hazel be completely oblivious to readers feelings, then Hazel does some cute thing as a apology then asks reader out - @curiousshifter101

Warnings: Cursing and some kissing that’s all.

Author Note: I’m not sure if i like this, but i’m really trying to get better at writing plus i’ve been wanting to post <33

You were literally in love with Hazel and she was so oblivious to your feelings for her, you started to lose hope that she liked you back.

No matter how much you hinted at it she would not ever do anything about it or think anything of it.

Right now, you were sitting with the whole fight club. You were sitting right next to Hazel who was talking to PJ.

You were picking at your food while you got lost in your own thoughts, thinking about Hazel and if she liked you back or not.

“Hello?” You snapped out of it when Hazel waved her hand in front of your face. “Sorry, what’d you say?” You looked over at her.

“I said are you okay?” She chuckled and you sat up a little “Oh, yeah, just thinking.” You shrugged.

“Right. About what?” She questioned and you hummed “Nothing..” you tilted your head while you tilted your head and held eye contact.

“Well, did you still want to study later?” She asked as you glance at her lips “Yeah” You nodded.

“Alright, we-” She gets cut off when the bell rings and everyone starts getting up.

“I’ll just see you later on.” She said and you nod, touching her arm and rubbing it slightly before you walked away.

Hazel thought of it as like a friendly little bye without actually saying bye, but she had no clue that it was like in a flirty way.

Later on that day, you were at home waiting for Hazel to knock on your front door any minute now.

You were looking in your mirror in your little purple tank top and your black little shorts just so you could tease her, maybe then she’ll make a move.

You were putting on some lipgloss when you finally heard the knock on your front door.

Your parents also were not home, so if Hazel wouldn’t get the hint and just make a move you might just have to do it yourself.

You opened the front door and leaned on it as you opened it wide “Hi..” You tilt your head and she walked in “Hey” She smiled.

You shut the door and lead her to your room and she set her backpack down on your desk.

She started talking about the project as you sat down on your bed.

You suddenly remember that’s the actual reason she was at your house.

You hum lightly as she turned around and saw you sitting on your bed “Oh, are we working on your bed?” She asked.

“Oh, yeah..” You hum, patting the spot beside you so she went over and sat beside you.

She pulled out her journal and you lean over her to look at the organized notes that she wrote down as she flipped through the pages.

“You’re like, really good at taking notes.” You said as you slowly looked at her face and she looked at you, making eye contact with you.

You guys were inches away from each other and you looked down at her lips for like a full 10 seconds.

“Oh, thanks.” She chuckled to herself and looked down at her journal.

How much more obvious can you make it?

You sigh, leaning into her a little more and she slowly looked down and caught a glance at your breasts and quickly cleared her throat.

She looked back up at you and you giggle as you sat up right “Hazel” You whispered and she looked over at you.

“Yeah?” She asked and you tilt your head while you both stared at each other.

“Can I kiss you?”

She froze, unsure of what to say or if you were just joking with her.

You noticed her silence and immediately thought the worse.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Hazel I-” You were cut off when Hazel quickly leaned forward and kissed you.

You shut your eyes and she grabbed your face and you put your hand on her knee.

She pulled back with a huge smile on her face and you giggle “So..you do like me back?” You muttered.

“Yeah, I’ve been liking you. I just never thought you would like me back..” Hazel said in a sad tone.

“I’ve made it very obvious, Haze.” You raise your eyebrows as she looked at you confused.

“What? No..” She looked down as she thought about it.

“Like..really obvious.” You hum as she sighs “I guess now that i think about it, yeah, you kind of did..”

You giggle and look down “I figured you didn’t like me back, because you would never react to what i would do.”

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry.” She frowned.

“It’s alright..” You sat up right and she cups your face. “No, no, it’s not. Can i make it up to you?” She asked.

“How?” You ask and she hums and she thinks “I’ll take you out on our first date, and i’m gonna make it so perfect.” She said.

“Oh, yeah?” You grin widely and she nods quickly. “Yeah” She shrugged as she leaned in and kissed you again.

#bottoms movie #hazel callahan #ruby cruz #hazel callahan imagine #wlw #hazel callahan x reader

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starry-hughes · 6 months

Text

secret santa (jack hughes)

day 17 of star’s ficmas

jack hughes x reader

Jack Hughes tolerated you. He didn’t like you, he didn’t hate you, he tolerated you. You worked in the Devils organization, working as an analyst behind the scenes, meaning you were always around. You’d be in your office, analyzing the game from the night before or practice.

You weren’t exactly sure why Jack didn’t like you. Maybe you made too many suggestions to his game or got him in trouble which forced him to work on faceoffs more. You got along pretty well with everyone else, why not him?

The Secret Santa Tradition was always fun, you looked forward to it every year. You’d appreciate any gift really, no matter how big or small it was. You had pulled Jack. You were excited, hoping this was the chance for Jack to like you. You had given him the gift early, leaving it in his stall, half of the items on his list were bought. But, now it was the last day of the Secret Santa and you tried not to be sad that you hadn’t received your gift.

Jack had drawn your name. He was hoping for one of the other boys, but he got you. He knew who you were. Jack walked by your office every day, seeing you hunched over your laptop, sometimes he’d see you by the bench, or in team meetings. You were smart and he knew it. He actually thought you were really smart and pretty, but he had made a bad impression on you.

He didn’t know what to get you, staring your list of items you suggested, looking at what you like. He wished he didn’t participate. He saw your office decorated for Christmas and could just assume you liked the holiday. Jack picked the smallest item from the list.

The present was thrown into a gift bag and left on your desk. You saw your coworkers getting big gifts and nice things, and the keychain you asked for stared back at you. You blamed yourself for even putting the item on the list but you didn’t want to seem like you were expecting a big gift.

“Dude, my Secret Santa got me this nice blanket,” Erik said. “I got mine a keychain.”

Jack suddenly had the whole locker room staring at him. “You got them just a keychain?” Dawson asked. “It was on their list!”

“Who’d you even gift?” John asked. “(Y/N).”

“You’re a dick,” Nico scoffed. Jack’s eyebrows furrowed together. “What did I do?” Jack questioned. “What did your Secret Santa get you?” Luke asked him. “Like four things off my list…”

At the end of the day, you shoved your stuff into your bag. It was hard to not be upset over the small keychain you were given. But you had tried so hard to be in the holiday spirit, buying everyone hot chocolate, decorating your office, offering to do extra work so other people could spend time with their families. And you got a keychain.

You began the walk to your car, when you were stopped by Jack. “Hey, (Y/N), you got a second?” Jack was just going to apologize, make amends. “I was your Secret Santa, and it was a bad gift I guess,” Jack confessed. The guys had all convinced him to apologize. “It’s fine Jack. I put the keychain on the list, I didn’t want anyone to be forced to buy me something special, I appreciate it,” you blurted. Jack frowned, “I’m sorry.”

You shrugged. “I just,” you sucked in a breath, “I don’t know if I did something to upset you or anything, I put the keychain on my list, I got what I asked for I guess.” Jack felt bad.

“I gotta go Jack. By the way, I hope you liked all your gifts. Surprise, I was your Secret Santa,” you sighed before walking away.

Jack felt like a dick. He remembered how excited he was for getting his own gift, knowing how much his teammates spent on the gift game, he was an absolute jerk. You deserved more than that.

The next day, your office was empty and Jack had brought a bunch of gifts and left them on your desk. The day after that, you were out again. He was thinking it was because of him until you walked in on the third day. Jack finally didn’t have to throw away the extra coffee he bought. “(Y/N), here,” he greeted. “What’s this for?” you whispered. “I’m trying to make it up to you?”

“It’s fine, it was just Secret Santa. Your gift to me is useful, I haven't lost my keys in two days,” you joked. You went to open your office door. Your eyes landed on all the presents. “Jack, I didn’t need these. I’m okay.”

“A date then. To make it up.”

You looked at him, “Really? A date, just to make it up?”

“I don’t hate you, I just don’t know how to act around you. I want to impress you. I’m sorry. Just one date, a Christmas present?”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes one shot #star’s ficmas #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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batfambyval · 9 months

Text

okay. So.

Serious Red Robin theory coming.

Tim wasn’t put in the Lazarus Pit. But. That doesn’t mean they didn’t use it on him. The pit’s healing properties have been shown to work in small portions. Like, the healing is proportional to the amount of lw used.

The cave with the pit isn’t exactly a sterile environment. So either the pit was needed or it was an attempt to put Tim off balance, a psychological weapon. Though the White Ghost’s reaction to the assumption seems to dispute that. If the pit’s healing is proportional to the amount used it makes sense that the psychological effects are to, along with the duration of those side effects.

Ra’s had serious reasons to use the pit on Tim, between the additional room for emotional manipulation and Tim’s life threatening injury which wasn’t immediately treated and was in fact exacerbated like, a lot… yeah. Tim lost a lot of blood. He lost was stabbed in the organ that filters blood: meaning all your blood passes through your spleen. He was bleeding out, he should have died, he dragged himself and another person to a car, drove said car back to the city, and got them both up to the penthouse. Recovering from that would take a long time, he shouldn’t have survived at all. But he healed quickly and well, it isn’t an issue, it happened and it was over. I know we as a fandom like to have fun with Tim’s missing spleen and what that means but… canon didn’t and looking back I feel like there was a lot pointing at the pit being used in a much more insidious was, not just in the logistics of Tim’s recovery.

Ra’s was insanely trusting of Tim. Not just in his ability to do what he wanted but in his belief that Tim would ultimately come around to his way of thinking. Now, I can obviously see that Tim was in a very vulnerable position and if Bruce hadn’t actually been alive Ra’s could definitely have succeeded. But it feels like more than that, especially with Tim’s ensuing behavior. A lot of his time with the league is glossed over or seen from Tam’s perspective, but Tim was acting different. It’s easy to attribute this to the objectively terrible situation and the year he’s had, but his behavior isn’t the same as it was at the beginning of the run either. And the difference in behavior fades. As Red Robin Tim is more ruthless and pragmatic, mostly due to necessity. Even stealing from a museum and fighting for it makes him incredibly uncomfortable. He still did it. But he was still acting like Tim, making jokes and doing his best to diffuse the situation and keep everyone alive. After the surgery his focus gets even more single minded. He barely puts up a fight about leading the league. Of course partly for Tam, and he tried to keep killing to a minimum but cmon. He was leading the league of ASSASSINS. There were assassinations happening. People died when he blew all the league bases and he barely registered that beyond thinking that the council of spiders probably made it out, implying part of him knew death was a possibility and he didn’t care. But he didn’t think about the moral implications of that in a way that was very reminiscent of Jason’s selective morality. If he had stopped to think about it he wouldn’t have done it, but he was focused to much on beating Ra’s, on not compromising, that the complexity of the situation didn’t sink in. The obvious effects of his actions, the possible deaths and injuries of anyone inside a league stronghold wasn’t acknowledged while the underlying message sent to his opponent was the only thing he could think about. Just like when Jason attacked Tim at Titans Tower to send a message to Bruce despite his hardline stance against hurting kids.

So. The League did use the pit on Tim, just a little. Maybe two tablespoons in the wound to accelerate recovery and weaken his morals a bit. It would certainly make a lot of sense. And the writer did change when Tim came back to Gotham so it’s entirely possible that it was meant to be touched on later but was discarded.

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zorrasucia · 4 months

Text

Teach Me Tonight - Part 7

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] Part 7: [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (3k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Angry Sex, Nightmares, Domesticity, Morning Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

Glimpses of every day life and sharing an apartment with Carmy.

"I'm sorry, okay? I am! I won't use your ingredients without asking- just- please calm the fuck down!"

Your small argument from closing time had escalated on the way home to the point where you were screaming at each other by the time you slammed the apartment door behind you and followed Carmy to the bedroom. You had fought before, of course you had. But this was probably the worst one so far.

Carmy stood on the opposite corner of the room, hands on his hips, breathing heavily.

"Do you know how fucking expensive imported black garlic is?"

"I don't, but I have the feeling you're going to tell me," you spat, petty, the whole sentence leaving a bitter taste inside your mouth. You backtracked."I'm sorry. I'll pay for it, okay?" you tried to appease him even as your blood was boiling. "Listen, when I moved in, I was ready to make some compromises. I downsized my closet, I sold some furniture-"

"I didn't ask you to do any of that," Carmy interrupted you.

"Carm," you gave him a stern look. "I'm only saying that you could be more understanding about shit like this. We share the fridge and the pantry. I'm sorry I assumed I could use the stuff inside without asking, it will not happen again," you repeated, then inhaled deeply. "Just- I can't help feeling this isn't about that."

Carmy looked red in the face, angry like you had only seen him inside the kitchen, pacing and flexing his fingers. You couldn't believe he was actually losing his shit so severely over a steak and some garlic - even if it was a super expensive steak and black garlic.

He looked at the ceiling. "It is about you touching my shit without asking. It is about you leaving your things on the kitchen table when I need it to work-" he clenched his jaw. "I'm sick and tired of not knowing where anything is in my own fucking apartment!"

You had organized the closet to fit your stuff, and put Carmy's vintage denim and your bigger dresses in storage. You still had to get a desk for your sewing machine and work stuff, in the meantime it had stayed on the kitchen table, which, in your defense, had remained unused for most of your stay.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked in exasperation. "I've been living here for three weeks! You could have said something instead of bottling it up until it was-" you gestured vaguely in his direction, "whatever this is!"

"I like you being here, I didn't want to scare you off!" Carmy groaned.

"Carm, did you think I would leave if we didn't agree on where the shirts are supposed to go?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Dunno!"

"You can tell me things, Carm!" you crossed the room until he was close enough to touch. His eyes looked like the sky before a storm. "You can tell me anything."

"Then why are you so fucking mad?" he said defiantly.

"Because I don't like when you yell at me like I'm just another chef in your fucking kitchen," you said, it was something you had been keeping quiet since your fight started. "I'm not getting paid to put up with this shit."

It struck Carmy completely quiet. And you regretted it the moment it left your lips. You had almost found some middle ground and you had trampled all over it. He took a step closer and stared at you, his eyes dark and angry, the space between you felt charged.

Before you knew what was going on, he grabbed you by the back of the neck and kissed you roughly, biting on your lips, mouth wide open. You pressed on his chest with your hands - you were still too mad at him. But his hands were strong and his tongue was relentless and you could feel yourself getting wet from the mixture of anger and lust - and who knew those two emotions were so close to each other?

"Fuck, I can stop," he said, barely separating his lips from yours, breathing hard. "You want that?"

You pulled on his shirt, bringing him towards you, kissing him back with just as much fervor. Then, using that same grasp, you moved him to the edge of the bed and pushed him hard, his curls bouncing as he fell on his back.

"I want you to fucking apologize, Carmen," you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. You leaned over and trapped his wrists with your hands, above his head. Even putting all your strength into it, he could wiggle himself free at any moment, but he didn't; he stayed down and looked at you hungrily.

"I'm sorry," he said, a little too cocky for your taste, a smirk barely hidden on the side of his face.

You ground your hips against his, feeling his cock harden underneath you. He rolled his eyes and arched his neck. He looked beautiful, like a marble statue.

"What was that?" you asked, stopping your movement abruptly and getting close to his face.

He whined. "I'm sorry," and it sounded more truthful this time.

"Mhmm, that's more like it."

You kept holding both of Carmy's wrists with one hand, while the other moved downward, going underneath his shirt and playing with his nipple, massaging and pinching gently until he closed his eyes and hummed in bliss. Then you stopped.

"Fuck you," he said, letting out some leftover venom from your fight.

You smirked - why was this so hot?

You got your answer immediately after, when Carmy got free and turned you over, fast and aggressive, like he rarely was in the bedroom. He caged you with his arms and legs, all taut muscle and shaking breaths.

"What about you?" he said, his voice low.

"What about me?" you tilted your head. "I apologized like ten times, Carm. And I meant it."

"You said some fucked up things just now," his breath tickled your face as he studied you from every angle, like he was a wild animal and you were his prey.

"I did," you admitted. You arched your neck, trying to get close and... What? Kiss him? Bite him? You weren't sure. He put one hand on your throat, not quite a caress, closing his tattooed fingers around it. You squeezed your thighs together, blood flowing with need. "I meant some of that too."

"Which part?"

"That I don't like when you yell at me," you said honestly, the moment a little cheapened with how horny you sounded.

"That all?" Carmy's voice had turned hoarse from screaming and you wished you didn't find it so attractive.

"Yeah," you exhaled.

"Good," he said dryly and got up, freeing you, but you remained immobile.

Suddenly, he yanked hard on your jeans and underwear, leaving you bare in seconds.

"Fuck, Carmy."

You hated how needy you sounded, how wrecked you felt as he licked his hand and finally put his fingers inside you, how good he was at making you crumble... You let out a pleading and pathetic sound as he touched your clit roughly and finger fucked you a little too hard.

Then, he took his fingers out without a warning, leaving you empty and out of breath; his hands ghosted the insides of your thighs. You grabbed at his wrist, begging to be touched again. Carmy climbed on the bed instead, hovering above you, kissing you ferociously.

"Eager?" he teased when you started raising your hips to rub on his jeans.

"Impatient," you replied, trying to wind him up.

It worked - his eyes darkened again.

"Hands above your head," he ordered and you obeyed. He took your shirt off carelessly, your bra was almost spilling out with how forceful he was being but he didn't bother taking it off. The whole thing was angry, urgent, and so fucking hot. Carmy was undoing his belt and you used the pause to scoot backwards, just enough to reach your bedside table.

"Hurry the fuck up!" You threw a condom at him, hitting him square on the face.

Carmy gave you a look that was half exasperation, half amused lust. He unbuttoned his jeans just enough to take his cock out, then threw the empty wrapper back at you. He grabbed your legs and dragged you closer, forcefully, the duvet wrinkling underneath you.

"I swear I'm gonna-"

You didn't let him finish. You fisted the collar of his t-shirt and brought him down to kiss, biting on his lower lip, then soothing with your tongue. You opened your legs wide and tugged at the belt loops of his jeans - there was something arousing about him being almost completely clothed and you being almost naked.

"Fuck me, please, fuck me," you begged into his mouth, way past any sense of pride you had at the beginning of the fight. Carmy wasn't any better, rushing to obey the moment you said it.

"Fucking need it," he groaned as he entered you. It wasn't clear if he was talking about you or him - not that you had time to think about it before he started pounding into you. You felt every inch of Carmy's cock as it went in and out.

"So fucking good," you rasped to the side of his face. It spurred him on and made him go faster and harder - your moans got louder and louder. He covered your mouth with his hand.

"The fucking mouth on you," he mumbled low. You clenched your pussy in retaliation and watched as he rolled his eyes and lost his rhythm. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me."

You ran your hands under his shirt, tracing the contour of his muscles, feeling them quiver and strain as Carmy tried his damnedest to keep going, one hand on the mattress and the other keeping you quiet. Part of you smiled in satisfaction knowing he was getting tired and wouldn't last.

"Shit. Fuck me," he whined and stopped for a moment, sweating and panting. He finally uncovered your mouth, conceding defeat.

"Want me to take over?" you asked with a chuckle.

Carmy sighed and fell on the mattress beside you. "Still mad at you," he said, the sound pitiful with how hard he was breathing.

"Good to know," you climbed on top of him, straddling, lowering yourself on his cock, making him arch his back with pleasure. "I'm still mad too."

You rode him mercilessly, your hips slamming against his, hands on his chest, his eyes marveling at the bounce of your breasts. You took him right to the edge and left him hanging, the veins of his neck bulging as he groaned in frustration.

You clicked your tongue, swaying gently. "Not coming until I do."

"Yeah?" he arched his eyebrows, taking the challenge for what it was.

His hand moved from gripping your hip to where your bodies connected, his thumb finding your clit and caressing it. Your legs shook involuntarily, a spark going through you.

He grinned.

"Oh, fuck you," you sighed, your neck arched, looking at the ceiling while you bounced on his cock. He knew just what he was doing - making you tremble and moan with every gentle touch.

"Come on," he urged you, meeting your thrusts, fucking into you, hitting your G spot almost by mistake.

"Fuck," you gasped, biting your lip to stop from screaming.

You rode him much faster, something desperate and feral taking over you. Carmy's eyes widened when your walls started fluttering around his cock.

"Are you-? Can I-?" he asked in a choked out voice.

"Yes, yes," you managed to say, squeezing the wrist of the hand that was touching your clit so deliciously as your orgasm started taking over every one of your senses. "Yes, Carmy."

He tensed underneath you, flushed all over, eyes closed, and his lips forming a beautiful 'O'. You stared, waiting patiently for him to open his eyes.

He looked up at you, soft, grateful, a smile curling his lips.

"C'mere," he beckoned you downwards, meeting you with relieved kisses, breathy laughter filling the space between you. He caressed your back, tugging on your bra straps until you were somewhat covered again. The tenderness of the gesture warmed you all over.

"You okay?" Carmy asked and you nodded, nuzzling your nose against his in the process. A pause. "Hey. I am sorry. I was angry and-"

"I know," you fixed his hair, all sweaty and sticking on his forehead. "I'm sorry too."

He kissed your shoulder lovingly.

"I like you being here," he said. "I just- I need time to figure it out. That okay?"

"Yeah," you traced the line of his nose with your finger. "We'll figure it out together, baby."

You kissed him sweetly and he rolled you over to your side.

"I'll go to the thrift store tomorrow," you said, cupping his face. "Buy a desk and shit."

Carmy smiled. "I'll fix the pantry. Put labels on my shit. Make room for your things."

"I think that's the most romantic thing you've said to me," you joked, giggling when he tickled your sides.

"Shut the fuck up!"

He laughed with you, leaving kisses on your face and throat.

You woke up to the sound of Carmy talking in his sleep. Most of it was gibberish, quiet mumbles as he thrashed on the bed, the one word you could make out was 'Mikey' - over and over. He winced and let out a pained sound. You got closer and held him, your arm across his chest.

You knew he had nightmares, you'd been there for a couple of them, but sleeping every night with him meant you saw much more of it. It broke your heart how many you had missed, how bad he hurt...

"It's okay, Carmy," you soothed softly. "I'm here, baby, it's okay."

He woke up with a startle, breathing fast.

"Fuck, sorry," he sat up and ran his hands over his face. "Bad dream."

"I know," you waited for him to settle, giving him space.

After a while, he laid back next to you. You moved slowly, gently, touching the side of his face and caressing his hair, calming him down.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Uh," Carmy looked up at the ceiling, blinking hard, "there was a fire. Just so much smoke," he cleared his throat. "And, uh, Mike was there." There was a long pause. "Did I ever tell you he planned to set the restaurant on fire?"

"What?" you froze.

He hummed. "To cash the insurance money, you know," he reached for your free hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing them close to his chest; his heart was pounding.

"I'm sorry, Carm," you waited for him to say something but he stayed silent, vacant. "It feels so weird that I never met him."

"Probably for the better, to be honest," he said dryly. There was something dark about the way he said it.

"Hey," you squeezed his hand, trying to ground him. "What'd you like about him?"

"About Mike?" he said looking at you. "Uh- He was warm. He told the best stories, took care of Nat and me, gave the best hugs... A real big brother, you know?"

You nodded.

"Started getting tattoos because of him," he said, flexing his hands to show the ink on them. "He was so cool, and I wanted to be that."

"I think you're pretty cool," you said sweetly, kissing his knuckles.

"Thanks," he said through a sad smile. "Richie says he was all wrong by the end of it..."

"Wrong how?"

"He wasn't warm anymore, he was, uh, like a fryer fire, I guess. His stories didn't make sense. Kept forgetting shit. A mess, you know?"

"Maybe that's why he pushed you away," you said softly. You knew Carmy felt guilty for his time in New York. "He wanted you to remember him like he was before."

"Maybe," he conceded, looking up at the ceiling.

You stayed like that for a while, caressing his arm, tracing lines on his skin.

"Would you-" he said, then stopped.

You turned to face him. "Yes?"

"Would you hold me?" Carmy asked, his blue eyes open and vulnerable.

"Of course," you smiled and shifted on the bed to spoon him, his back to your chest, your arms around him, leaving gentle kisses on his shoulder blade. You could feel his heartbeat settle as he went back to sleep.

"Love you, Carm," you said right before you drifted off.

You woke up to the feeling of Carmy kissing your face softly. You hummed, content. When you opened your eyes, the bright light of late morning was all over your bedroom.

"Didn't hear you coming in last night," you said, your voice raspy with sleep.

"Got in late. Bad day," he raised his hand to touch your hair, staring at the way it caught the light. "Nat forced me to take today off."

"That bad?" you asked, a little concerned.

Carmy moved his fingers to the worry lines on your face, soothing.

"Not really. Someone talked about work life balance in her last Al-family meeting and she's all about that shit right now," he smiled. You loved to see how he looked soft with sleep, relaxed for a little while.

"Have I told you I really like her?"

"You might have," he said playfully, then leaned over to kiss you. It was a gentle thing, his lips lazy on yours and his body flushed as he hugged you.

You took his shirt off, not out of lust, just wanting to get more warmth from his skin on yours. You slowly started kissing his tattoos. You liked the ones on his arms and hands; they were familiar, whenever you thought of Carmy it was the image you conjured. But you loved his other tattoos, the ones nobody else saw, the secrets he kept and only shared with you. You left kisses on his shoulder and his chest, running your fingers on the ink on his ribs and right above his hip bone.

"I've missed you, Carm," you confessed.

It had been a hectic couple of weeks. You had barely seen each other, mostly just sleeping on the same bed, saying good night and good morning before each of you left for work.

"Missed you too," he replied.

His hands roamed your body, tugging gently at the fabric of your sleep shirt, helping you out of it, all while kissing you. You melted in his arms, pliant as he rolled you over and started leaving pecks on your skin.

"Carmy," you sighed. His lips left imprints on your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and your chest. He stayed there, kissing the top of your breasts, the side, the valley between them, and your nipples. Your pulse was racing and you wondered whether he could feel it with his mouth.

"You're so soft," he said, his exhale giving you goosebumps. "Smell so nice."

"You smell nice too, baby," you giggled. Carmy's hair still had a lavender-like scent from his night shower.

"Mmm..."

He kept kissing. Your belly, your hip, the wrinkle that formed between your mound and your thigh. There was something so like devotion in the way that he moved; it wasn't about filling some selfish need to get his dick wet, he wanted you to feel loved.

"C’mere," you called him back up, to kiss his lips fervently, your hands buried in his hair. When you parted, he smiled, his eyes were still sleepy. He looked so comfortable, so soft...

Your hand traced again that tattoo on his hip, then moved downward, to the hair on his navel, and lower, touching him over his boxers. He was half hard, his nose buried in your neck. When he groaned, his chest rumbled against yours.

"So nice," he said. "’m too fucking tired to fuck you like you deserve, though."

Your free hand caressed the back of Carmy's neck, holding him closer.

"Just want you to relax, make you feel good," you whispered, moving the hand on his cock back and forth, slow, loving.

He moaned, then shifted a little on the bed. You didn't realize why he was moving until his hand snaked its way inside your shorts.

"Oh," you squirmed a little at the feeling of his fingers.

"Too cold?" Carmy asked.

"No, it's okay," you leaned to kiss him. "It's okay," you repeated.

You kept on touching and kissing, everything in that sort of clumsy haze, one of your legs over his. You needed this: being with him without the rush of being late, no urgency, no fucking as fast as you could before Carmy had to run to the restaurant. You had all the time in the world - you could count the freckles on his face and stare at the blue in his eyes as he mumbled sweet nothings into the morning air.

His free hand touched your wrist, guiding it to the head of his cock, the sluggish rhythm you had set just enough to make him roll his eyes and kiss you hard, drowning a whine against your lips as he released.

"Love you so much," Carmy mumbled.

You kissed the side of his face. "I love you, I love you," your voice came out choked and high.

Without you noticing, the constant massaging between your folds had built up too. You came with a long exhale, closing your eyes for a moment, lightly squeezing his side.

"Wanna stay here forever," he said after a while of just looking at you and caressing your back.

"Just sleeping and fucking all day," you replied tiredly.

"I'd like that."

[Deleted Scene]

[Part 8]

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

#reader moves in with carmy; shenanigans ensue!#it's three separate days/nights in case it wasn't clear lol #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x you #carmy berzatto smut

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stormsplurge · 3 months

Text

happy tears overflowing, lightning bolts so overwhelming

warnings: slight smut at the end, just fem receiving oral, 18+ read at your own risk

pairing(s): seth jarvis x fem! reader

inspired by anime eyes by kacey musgraves <3

1192 words

a/n: this is my first time writing x reader smut and my first time writing x reader stuff in a whiiiiile so i apologize if this is rough. regardless, i hope you enjoy!

“seth.” you said, putting down the knife you were chopping vegetables with, “i can feel your eyes staring a hole in the back of my head.”

“if you want me to stop you should try being less beautiful.” he replied.

before you could open your mouth to reply, he’d made his way across the kitchen and pulled you away from the counter.

“seth!” you shrieked as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into the air.

you two had been spending the last week in minnesota, spending time with burnzie’s family and enjoying the last bits of summer before you had to get back to carolina. it was through burnzie, actually, that you’d met seth. he was a frequent customer at the animal shelter you worked at, eventually becoming a volunteer, and one of your friends.

you’d organized an adoption event, trying to find some of the pets forever homes and make room for new rescues, and burnzie offered to bring his “friends” as volunteers. he’d forgotten to mention those friends were a bunch of professional hockey players.

seth had immediately caught your eye. his gap-toothed smile and infectious laughter, but also the edges of his shoulder tattoo peeking out from the edge of his t-shirt sleeves. everything about him was drawing you in, by the time he’d brought you adoption papers to sign off on you knew he’d had you.

“you’re adopting lulu?” you questioned, petting the gorgeous pitbull puppy in his arms.

“if it’s okay.” he responded, focusing his eyes away from the dog and looking into yours for approval.

“of course it’s okay” you said, “i’m so glad she’s finding her forever home. she’s been in the shelter for forever.”

“do you think i could get your number?” he quickly replied, before adding a “so i can text you if i have any questions about, yknow, lulu.”

“jarvis.” you chirped. “if you wanted my number you could have just asked, you didn’t need to adopt a puppy.”

“i know… but lulu was looking at me with her sad puppy dog eyes i couldn’t just leave her here.”

oh god, you thought. i’m fucked.

——

seth asked you out not even a week later.

he’d managed to get his hands on your work schedule and sent a flower every hour, all eight hours you were all at work. at first it was a daisy, with a note attached with only the word “go” you on it. next came a lily, with a note saying “out”. eventually leaving you with eight different flowers spelling out “go out with me please, love seth.” and a mystery address attached to the final one.

everything about the date was perfect, he’d found a secluded park where you wouldn’t be bothered by anybody and set up a picnic. every snack you’d offhandedly mentioned while you two had been texting, all of your favorite foods, everything you could think of was laid out on the blanket.

“oh seth…” you marveled. “you didn’t have to do this all for me.”

“of course i did.” he said, matter of factly. “my mom raised me to never half-ass anything, especially when it comes to a beautiful woman.”

“how’d you even think of this.”

“well burnzie mentioned that you’d been stressed out at work, and aho told me his girlfriend thinks this park is really romantic. so, yeah.”

“i love it.” you said, placing your hand on top of his, where it sat resting on his thigh. “thank you.”

——

from there the rest was history, the last year you’d spent with seth had been some of the best of your life. every minute of your day was filled with love, from lulu’s morning kisses to the daily texts you would get from jarvy as soon as practice was over. everything about it was perfect.

“seth.” you said as he gently placed you on the counter. “i love you.”

“i know.” he mused, tilting your chin up and placing a kiss on your lips.

“we shouldn’t be doing this here.” you whispered as his lips trailed over your jaw and onto your neck. “anyone could walk in at any second.”

“they wont be back for another couple of hours, i promise.” he replied as he placed his hands under your thighs and picked you up. you looped your arms around his neck, letting him carry you into the guestroom.

the kisses were unrelenting at this point. your neck, your collarbones, the spot above your belly button. slowly making his way down to the edge of your shorts.

“can i?” he asked, waiting for a yes to leave your lips before hooking his finger under the waistband and pulling the fabric down. the energy in the room had quickly turned from comforting to intense, seth’s eyes focusing exclusively on you.

“you are so beautiful.” he breathes out between kisses, letting the stubble on his cheeks scratch against your inner thighs.

“you don’t have to keep saying that.” you reply as he brings his tongue to your pussy.

seth aproached sex the same way he did hockey. making every second count, every move having an end goal. on the ice this meant helping his team and scoring goals, and in the bedroom it meant making sure you always felt good.

you moaned his name as he inched his middle finger farther into you, bringing your hands to his hair and wrapping your fingers in the slight curls that formed at the nape of his neck.

“you should, ah-, shave the sides again.” you whined, twitching with every slight movement he made.

“bring back the mullet?” he chuckled, pushing his ring finger in as he spoke. “what about racing stripes should i do those too?”

a yes slipped out of your lips, followed quickly by seth pumping his fingers in and out of you at a desperate pace. his mouth made it’s way to your core as you felt yourself begin to unravel, rapidly reaching your peak.

“seth.” you moaned, throwing your head back. “i’m so close.”

“i know baby, you’re doing so good for me.”

you were seeing stars, forgetting that you were in someone else’s house, panting and moaning and whining as loud as you could. the pressure in-between your legs growing until you couldn’t take it anymore, coming with seths name on your lips and his head in between your legs.

he was grinning at you from the edge of the bed, already back to his giggly self.

“i love you so much.” he said, making his way up the bed and tucking your hair between your ear.

you shushed him as you brought your hands to his cheeks and pulled him into a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. if it were any other day you’d happily go for another round, but the sun was getting to you so you just rolled seth onto his side and burrowed yourself in his chest. the smell of sweat and deodorant pulling you into him. as you felt your eyes begin to grow heavier you felt him drape a blanket over the two of you.

“i love you too.”

#seth jarvis #carolina hurricanes #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #seth jarvis x reader #seth jarvis imagine #caroline hurricanes imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #carolina hurricanes fic #seth jarvis fic

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chronically-ghosted · 6 months

Text

stay gold, baby boy

rating: 18+ (expliiiiicit)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: almost 6K

summary: six months into your friends-with-benefits situation, you institute a new game. A gold star on the board every time Dieter is a good boy. Today, he gets bingo . . . for wearing real pants.

warnings: friends with benefits (with more feelings), oral (m receiving), dom/sub dynamics (guess who subs today!), talks of edging, hair pulling, creampie, piv sex, praise kink, my mother raised me to have better taste in men but fuck it

a/n: remember when i posted this picture? And then this one? Remember how you could hear me yelling from space? Well, @sp00kymulderr has added fuel to the fire – Dieter and stickers. I can’t explain myself except that I was horny and I wanted to take his pants off with my teeth. So I did.

✨gif credit goes to the ever incredible, talented, and enabler of my dieter fantasies @perotovar! she saw me floundering with the header and immediately was like 'hold please i can make his baby cow eyes even better'✨

🤍Masterlist

With your foot on the low table, your ass firmly planted on the middle poofy cushion of the dumpster bin couch at the back of the trailer, thumbnail nibbled between your teeth, you have to admit it’s starting to get a little embarrassing. It’s honestly such a bad look.

Not that he would ever shame you for it. In fact, he’d probably like it.

And it’s not like you waited for him here all day. You had things to do as one of the co-screenwriters on this film. You had things to do and people to see and stuff to organize – all of which had nothing to do with Dieter fucking Bravo.

Okay, so a lot of it actually had to do with him. Lots of scene rewrites, lots of notes from the studio, lots of instances where the two of you had to put your heads together and come up with a solution that made the studio happy and didn’t make you want to claw your eyes out artistically speaking.

Which had led to this.

And the past six months of whatever this is. Working together led to seeing each other (outside of work), to eating with each other, to fucking each other – with the line firmly drawn there.

Whatever you may say about Dieter, the man could compartmentalize in a way that would make Marie Kondo weep with joy. By the way he treated you on set, no one in their right mind would ever have guessed he knew what you looked like naked. Or that he knew your left nostril twitched just before you came.

The same could be said for you too. Out of boredom one morning in the grocery store, you bought a trashy magazine with his face emblazoned across the top – Dieter Bravo and His Lonely Hearts Club. You weren’t one for the gossip rags, but flipping through it, not a single one of his “club members” mentioned his raging praise kink. You bought the damn thing on the spot, giving them all a consolation prize of some sort. Sorry, ladies, guess I win. Ha. Ha.

But, at the edge of the cushion, eyes occasionally flicking between the door and the failing darkness outside, you didn’t feel much like you’d won anything.

In fact, you’d lost. Big time. When all of this had been your stupid idea in the first place.

It had been your idea (and your initiative) to buy a packet of gold star stickers. Like the kind teachers use with their first graders. Actually, exactly like the ones teachers use for their first graders. You couldn’t form words when the woman at the education supply store ringing you up asked, “oh, what grade do you teach?”. You just tossed a twenty at her and booked it, your face painfully hot for a fairly innocuous purchase.

But all of that was his fault for dropping a praise kink and a teacher kink on you all at once the night after you jokingly spanked him with a ruler in front of the director, in-front of his co-star, because he wouldn’t agree to a line change, and he had to excuse himself from the room.

A month later and he forgoes touching himself for a gold star. He agrees to your line changes without argument for a gold star. He picks you up in the morning and drives you home at night for a gold star (you could drive yourself, but there’s always that last minute thing you need to talk to him about so you do it just because it’s easier, really).

He lets you come, over and over again, and keeps nothing for himself – all for a gold star.

Someone is bound to figure it out. They have to. Six months in and you’re getting sloppy. Obvious. What the fuck would you be doing in his trailer at seven o’clock at night after a full day of shooting unless you’re fucking him?

But you, worryingly, can’t find it in you to care.

You had lost your mind, that’s what you lost. Because tonight is the night Dieter gets his final gold star. It’s his reward but you’re about to vibrate out of your skin with want.

(It didn’t matter that you hadn’t seen each other in two weeks and by the third day, an ache had settled in behind your breastbone, one that clutched your phone in your hand, and forced your eyes to the screen every minute, checking for a new text message.

He called on day five, by the way.)

Your neck snaps up when you hear voices outside of the trailer. Laughter, his.

You suddenly feel the need to flatline against the floor in case anyone might see you.

Fuck, and how are you supposed to explain yourself if the someone he is with follows him into the trailer? Too many frightfully bad scenarios and you’re rooted to the floor, unable to make a single decision.

The metal latch clinks and his trailer door swings wide open.

“Yeah, man, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

You can hear a deep, “see ya” from the other side (maybe Daryl from craft services?) and the scrap-metal trailer squeaks, as the lock clicks shut.

Dieter scratches his cheek, surveying the trailer as if some part of him knows something is different, but his conscious mind can’t figure it out.

Until he turns. And nearly leaps out of his skin.

“Fuckin’ – what are you doing in here? Wait – I thought you left town to scope out the new location in San Diego.”

You want to answer him. You know how – open your mouth and tell him the trip’s been delayed for a few days, nothing serious, timeline bullshit – but you can’t.

It’s officially embarrassing.

It’s embarrassing how turned on by Dieter Bravo you are.

Hair in all kinds of directions, skinny cloth bracelet loose around his wrist, he had pushed up the sleeves of his henley shirt, exposing the thickly drawn triangle over his forearm and the clear one near his wrist. His hand with the rings hangs by his side and something inside of you silently whines.

But what really sets you off, what really makes this embarrassing and terrible because there’s no bluffing here, no hiding your cards and folding – nothing you can do to keep spit from flooding your mouth the longer you look –

He’s wearing pants.

Black with loose belt loops. Zipper and all. A silver button sitting between his hips. Fuck. Just like you told him to. Fuck fuckfuck.

You’re briefly aware when he says your name and you have to make a physical effort to tear your eyes away from that glinting silver eye winking up at you.

Dieter’s frowning, knowing silence isn’t really your thing.

“Are you okay? Why are you –,”

As though it had called his name, his gaze drifts from your face to the table between you and him. Where his scorecard rests with four stars in the Good column, and shockingly, none in the Bad.

His mouth parts, eyes going dark, as the realization hits him like a mack truck.

“Delays,” you say suddenly, preemptively, knowing that normal people usually have some sort of preamble before tearing each other’s clothes off. You stand up a bit straighter, tilt your jaw away from him, gaze leveling him from the end of your nose. You have got to get this thing under control. “Frank ran into some scheduling issues with the boat for the lake scene so, until further notice, the trip to San Diego has been delayed.”

He blinks slowly as if he’d been struck over the back of the heat, mouth parted. He has such fucking gorgeous, fucking perfect lips –

“So you’re here?” he asks, his voice low, disbelieving.

You scoop up the scorecard and step over the table, your shoes long since gone. It’s like his vision narrows the closer you come; he is transfixed, gaze on you as if molded at the seams, as you step up to him. You tap him on the chest once with the corner of the scorecard, excitement and nerves and that ache making you tremble despite your confident appearance.

“So I’m here.”

“On the last day of the week.” Words thick, as if all the moisture had been sucked out of his mouth.

“On the last day of the week.”

“When I,” he swallows thickly, “when I should get my reward.”

God, this kind of power trip should not be making you this wet.

You lift your gaze from his chest, taking in his beautifully dumb-struck face.

“You will.” You nod. “And do you know why?”

His breath quickens, lip between his teeth, when you scratch off the final star from the package and stick it to the Good column.

“Because I was a good boy?”

You toss the scorecard behind you, it clatters onto the table, and you cup the back of his hot neck.

“Because you were a very good boy.”

He stumbles back, knees unsteady, when you kiss him. You see his eyes a split second before you close yours and hot electricity swoops down to the pit of your stomach. It would be mortifying if you just fucked him right here and now – he does deserve something extra special – but fuck – you want his whole hand inside of you.

His warm palm slides across your jaw, pulling you into him, and Dieter breathes, deep and long, inhaling as much as he can. You don’t think he realizes that he’s picked you up off the ground with his arm around your back until he opens his eyes, vision hazy and off-center.

“Go lock the door, baby.”

He nods and puts you back down. You slip off your jacket as he bolts the trailer door shut.

Dieter’s mouth drops open when he turns around and sees you on your knees.

Shit, you should have stolen some knee pads from the costume department.

“Really?”

You smile at him because he asks like a kid that just got offered a puppy for Christmas. You reach towards him and he takes your hand, unsteady on weak knees

“For as long and as much as you want.”

You palm him and Dieter groans, mouth-closed at the sensation, the hard ridge of the metal zipper not one he is entirely familiar with. At least, not like this. Beneath the warm press of your palm, you feel him thicken, harden, and you press more, digging your fingers into his thighs. The muscles in his legs tense, his mouth falls open, as his hips cant forward, desperate for the new weight of the zipper.

“And I won’t make you wait, Dieter,” you say, eyes tripping up from where your hand sits, up to the flash of exposed tummy where his pants have ridden down and his shirt slid up, into his almost surprised gaze. “You’ve been very good, wearing this for me, but I want you to learn why it’s important to wear pants with buttons.”

“I-I t-t-thought,” he tries, voice abruptly cutting off when you nuzzle the constrained bulge in his pants. He tries again, eyes slamming shut as if to stifle the sensation of your warm breath so near to where he needs you the most. “I thought i-it was so I d-din’t – didn’t look bad.”

Your face still pressed into his crotch, you briefly massage his calves, then the backs of his thighs. You cup the curve of his ass through the starchy back pockets, which is remarkably prominent now that he’s in something else than baggy sweatpants.

You shake your head, nose dragging along his hot length, against the space between his hip bone and his cock, smiling.

“Baby, you know I like how you look. I always want you to be comfortable.” You look up and meet his eyes. The remaining brown not yet wholly consumed by a blurry, heated darkness softens. Somewhere beneath the hazy, disarming feelings of lust currently filling his head like a bike tire, he’s still your Dieter. Or – well, wait – at least the Dieter you know. The Dieter you have impossibly fun times with. The Dieter who makes you laugh like no one else. The Dieter that can make you fall apart until you’re a gooey, dripping mess and he still manages to stitch you back together. The Dieter that keeps you up at night thinking he might possibly want something more. “But this is so much more fun.”

Grounding your chest against his thighs, holding yourself against him as leverage, you sink your teeth into the corner of the fabric fastening his pants together. Eyes up at him again, you tug and his cock is pushed up against your tits from the force of the pull. He rocks forward, an airy gasp escaping his mouth, and the button gives, the lip of the fabric sliding back as the silver disk slips through the hole. Now your touch is unimpeded by rough fabric when you lean forward and kiss him just below the waistband of his black boxers.

It takes you a second to realize that Dieter Bravo is wearing underwear at all and you smirk up at him.

Something about your gaze makes the tips of his ears go red, as if he had been caught being very naughty. His big hand cups from your jaw to your ear, as if trying to placate you, beg you not to be mad this close to his cock.

“You said I had to dress u-up,” he says, eyes wide and round. God, he’s trying to be so good. One week of the rating system and Dieter Bravo is a trembling mess. Despite your wildly beating heart, you smirk, your thighs shaking briefly at the sudden rush of tenderness you feel for the man in front of you. You hide your own blush by mouthing that open spot just below his tummy and above his cock, wetting the black material with your tongue. Before he can whine about it, you pull back just barely, enough to curl your fingers around both his black underwear and the pants he wore for you. Just as you begin to pull down, you nip the zipper between your teeth and slowly, slowly, rubbing your nose against him, tug the metal teeth apart. His pants open and Dieter groans loudly. He’s already so sensitive.

For a mouthy, ego-driven bastard, he really did have a magnificent cock. Flushed at the base, thickest you’d ever had inside you, and he’s leaking silvery threads from the head. The vein thickly pulsating on the side makes you wonder how he hasn’t passed out from all the blood rushing to his cock.

You lick that vein, that beating pulse, and his knees buckle. His massive hand grips your shoulder and Dieter shakes his head, his mouth wrenching open.

“Please, please — mhmm — don’t tease. I-I can’t – you haven’t – please.”

As if you would be cruel to him. You feel rather dizzy, elated on the idea that you wield this much power over him. That he trusts you with all of him. There it comes again, that arching ache in your chest.

“I’m just trying to get myself ready for you,” you confess quietly. “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

Dieter swallows something large in his throat, panic receding from his eyes. His smile is small and his touch on your cheek is light.

“I know.”

And you weren’t lying. You’d never forget the sound of your jaw popping and cracking the morning after you sucked him off three times before you let him come. Dieter is shockingly big, annoyingly only when he uses it against you or makes you tell him over and over just how big he is before giving it to you. For now, you just want to remind him how very appreciative you are that he gives it to you at all.

Eyes decidedly looking away from the warmth on his face, you squeeze the backs of his thighs as you relax your jaw as much as you can. Above you hear him huff with his mouth shut as you start to take him in, your tongue wetting that soft skin on the underside of his cock. One move forward and you’ve wet him halfway, tongue massaging that vein. Another drop of your head and you’ve taken him completely.

“Fuck,” Dieter murmurs, the hand on your shoulder tightening. Your heart pounds in your chest all the harder when he takes his other hand and knots your hair with his fingers. By the twitching of his thighs beneath your palms, you know it’s taking every ounce of his restraint to not buck his hips forward. “That’s it that’s my girl you take me so fucking good you feel so fucking good.”

The thing about your mouth that is markedly different from your pussy: you can’t release your gag reflex to take more of him. But fuck, you want him to fuck the back of your throat – you just might drown before it happens.

He smells surprisingly clean as your nose inches closer and closer to his skin. With each pull, you slide your tongue down the other side, until it pokes through and licks where you haven’t reached with your mouth yet, inches from his pelvis. He shudders when you use the tip of your tongue.

“Oh my god, your mouth, baby, your mouth.” The words dribble out of his slack mouth, fingers flexing in your hair as if he can mimic pushing your head down further. You pull all the way off him, tongue catching the rim of his cock and he drops his head back against his shoulders and moans. The sound of it makes your pussy throb and you breathe out your nose to stifle your own noises. This is about him. He did good. He was a good boy the whole week.

You replace your mouth with your hand. Sufficiently wet from the way you slobbered all over his cock, you use a fist around his flushed head to smear pre-cum all the way down to the base of him. You brush his balls with your knuckles, just as you fit the tip between your lips, sucking – and Dieter bucks, hard.

“Ngh – shit! S-sorry!” His nails dig into his thighs, eyes squeezing shut as silvery threads spurt out from his cock.

Maybe you’d gone too far with the whole sticker thing and he really thought this was another test. His cheeks are burnt pink, his chest heaving and it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

“Dieter,” you cry softly, gently, comfortingly. He still doesn’t open his eyes, not even when you resume stroking him. You lick the soft skin of his balls and his gasp punches the air out of his lungs, his eyes splitting open. He looks down at you, thighs trembling and you squeeze him gently. Not to edge him or punish him, but to make this last a bit longer for him. “Dieter, take your shirt off and sit down.”

He can’t move fast enough. He yanks the henley over his shoulders, the collar scraping his hair up in wild directions. He goes to sit but his thighs are shaking too much and he just sort of tumbles onto his ass. Smiling, you take your own shirt off, hoping to save this particular bra reveal for another time, but fuck, this time is as good as any. Despite his panting and squirming, his gaze rolls from your face to your tits. Emerald green with black lace, this is far too nice for a work bra and it properly communicates to him that you were going to fuck him whether or not he was going to get that final gold star. The realization is visible as it crosses his mind, bleeding hungry black in his eyes.

You take off his pants all the way, before sliding your own jeans down and to the floor. His roving gaze catches the matching panties and the noise in his throat is deep, like a smothered grunt.

“Now, I’m going to suck you off no matter what,” you say as you crawl in between his legs, before leaning back and sitting on your heels. You smooth your hands down his thighs, near his red, stark cock, but not touching. Dieter’s breathing hitches in anticipation, not sure where to put his hands or his gaze. “But I want you to answer one question for me first.”

He nods rapidly, spreading his knees further for you as if to remind you there’s other places he could be fucked.

“Why did you think I was going to punish you today?”

You’ve asked this question paraphrased a dozen times, usually when you both know the answer: he came without asking, or he came by himself, or any of the dozen reasons Dieter liked to push your buttons, only for you to break him as far as he can go. But today, there’s no sultry edge, no double meaning. Your question is sincere and it takes him a moment to understand. He swallows as his eyebrows tug down on his forehead, something vulnerable flashing in his eyes before a look of uncertainty crosses his face.

“We’ve never had sex just to have sex.” He says it like a question. He settles into the floor one hand going behind his head, the linear tattoo on his forearm dark like a third eye. “Not that I’m complaining but it’s always a competition, or because we’re bored, or you wanna work out some personal shit because of the costume department. I know this is my reward, but I figured there had to be some kinda catch to it.”

You frown deeper than him. “There’s no way we haven’t had normal sex.”

Something like a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Define normal sex.”

Now it’s your turn to go warm across the cheeks. “I mean, like . . . outside of . . . our roles. Where there aren’t roles at all. It’s just . . .”

You break off for the third time, the look in his eyes forcing you to snap your mouth shut before you say something incriminating like, just us.

Dieter shakes his head. “No, we haven’t.”

“You’re telling me in six months, that’s never happened once?” You adjust on your heels and cross your arms. “It’s not like you can remember every time we’ve had sex.”

“I do.” This, coming from him, is not a question. It’s an irrefutable statement that you don’t seem able to refute with a no you don’t. There is no room for arguing.

Driving right on through the heat of your cheeks, that ache returning, you shake your head. “Then doesn’t that get old? Having to play games every single time?”

Dieter pouts as he thinks, eyes on the roof of the trailer. “Sometimes, but I don’t mind. Not enough to want to stop fucking you.”

“So, after a week of nothing, you were totally willing to let me edge you within an inch of your life? Let me treat you badly?”

Dieter smirks and it suddenly feels like you’re the one under him. “Sure, but you like me too much to keep it going for too long. And you like watching me come.”

Your teeth grind together at this very bold accusation, your entire face blazing. Weren’t you supposed to be domming him today??

His feet slide out beside you and Dieter is the very picture of arrogance, his arm still tucked behind his head. He drums his fingers on his stomach.

“If it makes you feel any better,” he says, the smirk around his mouth soft, “I like you too.”

It doesn’t. Not really. Not when his words spear through you hot and hard, landing in your chest like a landmine. Fuck.

Fuck.

“Oh, so this is all for me, then?” You ignore the fact that you’ve slipped back into your role in active defiance of talking about this anymore, and crawl forward until your forearms frame his head. That teasing contentment fades from his face as he watches you, eyes following a line that only he can see from your nose, lips, chin, throat and tits. Your hair slips off your shoulder, darkening the light on his face when you straddle his waist. “But what about you? Don’t you want to come?”

He nods, slower than before, but only to keep from breaking eye contact with you. Light as feathers, Dieter trails his fingers up the backs of your thighs, over the curve of your ass, to settle into your hips. His mouth parts in anticipation, pink tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

“I do,” he says, rolling his neck as if he can see more of you this way. “I really fuckin’ do.”

“What a coincidence.” You shift down, dragging the wet patch on the emerald green underwear beneath your drooling cunt, shift until it slides across his half-hard cock and Dieter’s hands dig into your hips, a groan breaking off in the back of his throat. His eyes slip half-closed, a thick, smoky black enveloping that beautiful brown. “So do I.”

Grinding down over so slightly, you roll your hips once more – Dieter tenses, his hands easing to the tops of your thighs – before sitting back on his knees.

“Now relax, baby, you’ve earned it.”

You drop forward over his hips, open your mouth, and slurp him up between your lips.

The noise that comes out of his chest is broken, knocked loose, split down the middle. You take him all in one, down until your nose is tickled by his coarse hairs, and you swallow. He is immediately, instantly, rock hard and dribbling. You swallow again and his hands dive into your hair, knotting the strands around his fingers, the way a rider draws up the reins of his horse. He goads you down with just gentle pressure, needy and demanding all at once, and you take him, and you take him, and you take him until the blunt head prods the back of your throat and you gag, throat constricting, and Dieter’s eyes roll back in his head.

“Shit, that’s too fucking good.”

You breathe out your nose, pulling up just enough to keep him off your reflex, but instead you hollow out your cheeks and suck, tongue pressing up against him and around that hammering vein.

And here, here comes the sound you’ve wanted from him all night –

Dieter whines, high and keening, his neck straining, your skull pinching from where he pulls. Between your thighs, the emerald green is completely ruined, buffed out dark in the wet.

The vein throbs again and you nearly drop onto your elbows, not caring if you choke or drown or sputter, you want him in your mouth, you want that salty, gooey taste of him that you find you can’t seem to lick up enough. You want him inside you –

With a grunt that morphs into a groan as it rises up his chest, he tugs hard enough on your hair that the pain splits your mouth open, head tugged back enough that he slips out of you, a thread of pre-cum from your puffy lips to the tip of his blunt head.

You lied. This wasn’t entirely for him.

You can feel your lips twist into a snarl. “Dieter, what are you –,”

He kisses you with such a force, that noise in his chest is transferred to yours, a collision that sparks a causal nexus and his own desperation bleeds with your own. The kiss is messy, dizzying, spit and pre-cum smearing across swollen lips and wet tongues. He twists his fingers deeper into your hair, as if he can consume you through the bowl of your skull.

Your name is something that tumbles, falls, drips from him, his mouth tilted a fraction of an inch away from yours. Eyes dark, full, a beast that howls for the moon in your eyes.

He’s going to fuck your brains out on the floor of this rickety-ass trailer.

Dieter tugs you forward, drags you onto your knees over him as he settles beneath you. Your fingers knock with his in a fight to reach your panties first, to shove them down your hips and thighs, get them to the floor.

Dieter’s flushed, pupils dark, big hands grappling against the weight of you as he pulls you onto him. You are so aroused, so sunken into the smoke of lust, you go as you are moved, his cock smearing apart your wet pussy. Dieter sits up, eyes locking onto where you’ve nearly become a single creature, and then he hesitates.

Sanity seems to ring his bell, for just a moment. Without waiting, he sucks two fingers into his mouth, coating them with his spit, and you can see what he’s about to do just before he moves. You shake your head, knees aching from carrying your weight against the flat trailer floor, and sit up off him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Don’t need it,” you mutter before licking into his mouth. He drops his head back to let you sink your tongue between his lips. Both hands wrapped around his jaw, you thumb his earring and he grunts out the side of his mouth. “I want –,”

His big hands settle and it’s like he dropped a thousand pound weight between your ribs. You drop, right onto him, his cock forcibly shoving you apart in a single thrust. Dieter barks out a moan, his hands clutching your spine, teeth going for your shoulder to muffle anything else that threatens to escape him.

You swear your nerves are on fire.

He always takes his time with you, for your benefit, and his. He can be maddening and incessant and demanding, right up until this part, the part where he could actually hurt you. Right then, he waits. Lets you come to him. Let you take as much as you want and he holds you tight.

But this, this is you taking all you want and then some.

In the split second you allow for your bodies to recognize the give and the take, the swell and the invasion, you meet his gaze.

No roles. No games. No landmines.

Exposure.

Blistering and brittle.

Safety.

You curl your toes underneath you, grip his shoulders, and slide up on an inhale. On an exhale, you thrust down and you don’t know who cries out louder.

Dieter pulls you to him, arm banded around your back, the other to balance as he leans back to meet your downward strokes with his upward thrusts. His fingers pinch the clasp of your bra and the straps slide off your shoulders, your frantic bouncing knocking those emerald cups loose.

“Oh, yeah, oh fuck yeah.” He mouths at your collarbone, tonguing the sweat that blooms across your skin. Your short huffs have your chest trembling, a shudder disrupting your breath when he uses the blunt edge of his teeth against the soft curve of your breast. His nose against your skin, he turns his head and licks your nipple into his mouth. He sucks, licks, your rapid rise and fall catching your sensitive peak against the tops and bottoms of his teeth. He uses the barest hint of pressure and your back arches. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, repeating that same pattern with his tongue, while his fingers flick your hardened bud.

You think you’re going to melt, fracture and ooze into this hot pool of pleasure that hums between your legs.

“Fuck, Dieter,” your own voice is unrecognizable, breathy and high, cut short every time his hips meet yours in a harsh slap, “I can’t –,”

He rubs up against something truly devastating inside of you and immediately your legs give out. You topple into him, arms around his neck, nose pressed up against his jaw. You feel his overheated skin, a balm, a solidifying force, against your cheek. The whirling inferno in your head soothes. A drop of sweat from his hairline trails down by your eye and you lick it.

“Make me come, Dieter,” you whisper for him, of him, beg in a way that only he can hear. You nuzzle his earring and he keens. “Please – I need it – n-n-need you.”

Open-mouthed, breath hot, flush down to his chest, he slithers the hand against your back between your warm bodies and finds your clit. Drags his thumb across it as his hips pound up into you – you can’t hear what he says in your ear, the edge you’re dangling over loud and pulsing – and then there’s a softness against your throat.

The white spark between your thighs erupts and you come so hard you scream. A release. Controlled and contained brightness now spilling out everywhere, you can feel it as you soak his lap. It drips and winds down, and it drunkenly slides off you. Finally, you curl into him, a muddled tingle radiating out across your nerves.

You sink into your skin again and hear him, still whispering, still talking.

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you come it’s okay baby I’ve got you I’ve got you I’m here – I’m gonna – g-gonna – oh, shit,”

His hips thrust up one more time before a full body shudder yanks his words and the air right out of his mouth. You melt as his cum floods your insides, the warm pulses intoxicating in the place he so forcefully claimed for his own. His shoulders curved towards you, his hand pinches the knot of your spine as if to steady himself, palm scalding against your skin. In your exhaustion, your sweaty forehead falls against his.

He doesn’t seem to mind.

Seconds mold into minutes, minutes into maybe hours then days.

Dieter’s trembling elbow finally weakens and with his arm around your back, he tips you both backwards.

His cock rubs up inside of you in a new way and your cunt clenches involuntarily. You both groan when his cum leaks out of you, squeezed out by the contraction. You shift your hips to lay fully on him, and his cock slides out, but his arm around you remains.

It remains long after your breathing settles, long after the sweat dries and your exposed skin grows cold. The longer you lay together, the more you feel he’s going to start stroking you, touching you in a way that a fuck buddy shouldn’t. But he doesn’t. He keeps you close but doesn’t move.

The feeling, the ache in your chest. It’s soothed and hastened by the beating of his heart beneath yours, your ear lying flat against his chest. It beats so loudly for you.

For some unfathomable reason, you glance up at the window. It’s dark out, the sun set and gone. For all you know, you two might be the only two people on the entire lot.

“Dieter.” His name sticks in your mouth. “Dieter, I –,”

“Five stars?”

You blink, lifting your head for the first time in ages, sweat on his skin almost suctioning your ear to his chest. He’s grinning, curls matted and damp against his forehead.

He reaches up to the table behind him and snags that stupid bingo card, along with that packet of shiny gold star stickers.

This feeling, you can contain it.

For now.

Smirking down at him, you peel off one of the bigger stars and with your thumb, you press it into the center of his forehead.

“Five stars, Dieter. Five star dick.”

His smile widens.

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mewhenimanangel · 8 months

Text

bunny ᕱ⑅ᕱ | geto suguru, gojo satoru

— synopsis. you and shoko go out to gojo and geto’s halloween party. it becomes so much more than you thought it’d be

༉‧₊˚. content!: au - college, halloween party, alcohol, drunken sex, making out, neck kissing, nipple play, oral sex (f+m! recieving), vaginal penetration, praise, biting kink, aftercare

— ⊱☆⊰ word count: 2.7k

nia’s ౨ৎ notes: this was originally going to be a gojo fic but i got carried away

next ౨ৎ

you blended your blush as you downed a second shot. shoko got dressed in her girlified patrick bateman costume, a cigarette sat on her lips while she looked for her lighter.

you were getting ready for a halloween party gojo's frat was throwing. you were going as a sexy bunny - dressed in tiny white bloomers with a fluffy bunny tail on the back, a white tube top, boots, and a headband with bunny ears.

"want a shot?" you asked her as you poured your third. "isn't that like your fourth one? and then you're still gonna drink at the party" she playfully scolded you. "says the nic addict" you joked. "fair" she rolled her eyes. "we should get going" you said, checking the time.

"you're not gonna be cold?" she asked you as she put on her costume's jacket. "it's like a five minute walk i think i should be fine." you shrugged, putting your purse on your shoulder.

you closed your dorm door behind you and excitedly made your way out.

you immediately regret your decision on no jacket when a cold breeze blew over you making you shiver. "that's what your ass gets" shoko giggled. you scoffed, hugging yourself warm.

you were outside and the music was blaring, people were spread out on the lawn. inside, the party was packed full of people in various costumes, drinks in hand, dancing, and singing. a few people here are there were smoking. people were playing drinking games and taking pictures. the lights were off and the room was decorated with colorful led lights, halloween decorations, and buckets of candy scattered around the room.

you held onto shoko's hand and made your way to the kitchen where drinks, food, and snacks were laid out. everything seemed so planned and organized you knew there was no way gojo and geto were in charge.

you poured yourself a drink and shoko grabbed a brownie from the tray. "hey ladies you made it!" you heard gojo's voice from behind you. you turned around to find gojo and geto dressed in tuxes with sunglasses on. "hm and what are you two supposed to be?" shoko asked, lighting a cigarette and passing one to geto.

"men in black duh" gojo crossed his arms. "and what are you supposed to be y/n, i see the bunny ears but you're hardly wearing any clothes" gojo eyed you with a smirk on his face. geto put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in for a side hug. "lay off satoru, i think she looks nice" he smiled.

you've known the guys for a while, being introduced to them by shoko a few years ago in highschool. you considered them your friends, although you did find gojo a pain in the ass, and were particularly attracted to suguru. they were flirty with you, geto not as much as gojo but you never really thought it meant anything.

"i cant argue with that suguru." "lace too? sexy" gojo bit his bottom lip, playing with the hem of your shorts.

"i have to assume you guys didn't set this up yourselves?" you asked, downing your drink. "of course they didn't, i did most of the work" utahime scoffed, coming up behind the guys. she was dressed in brown top with overalls and cowboy boots, a cowboy hat atop her black hair that was braided in two pigtails. "oh of course" you nodded, not expecting much from them.

"these are really good by the way" shoko told her. "kento made them actually" she said.

"hey guys!" itadori came up behind you guys with megumi and nobara. "yuujii, what are you guys doing here?" you moved to hug the group. yuuji was dressed as a firefighter, megumi as edward scissorhands, and nobara a spy. "yeah isn't it like past your bedtime?" shoko joked. "i told them they could come." gojo shrugged.

"gojo you invited kids?!" utahime deadpanned. "yeah but they're cool" he smiled, throwing his arm around megumi. "oh but they're just babies" you squeezed yuuji's cheek. "have fun but i swear to god, no drugs and no alcohol." you stuck a stern finger out at them.

"aw y/n loosen up" gojo held your shoulders. "let them have some fun, you know how stressful tech is" he added, going up to the group. he turned them around and pushed them out of the kitchen "have fun guys, just don't get too crazy!" he yelled after them.

you spent with shoko and utahime, taking pictures, drinking, and dancing. haibara occasionally danced with you guys and you tried your best to keep an eye on the three teens before gojo eventually drove them home, each with their own big bag of candy.

at this point, the alcohol had taken over your body giving you a high. you were whining your waist and grinding on anyone and everyone, just wanting to have fun tonight.

"i'm gonna go get another drink" you told shoko and she nodded. you went into the kitchen to pour another bottle and grab a drink from their fridge to mix with it when suguru walked in. "hey pretty girl, was looking for you" he came up and leaned on the counter next to you.

"mm why's that?" you smiled, sipping your drink. "just wanted to see my favorite girl" he smirked, his hand grazed your thigh as you stood in front of him. "you're real touchy lately" you gave him a look. "just wanna feel you" he chewed his bottom lip.

even though they've always been flirty, geto's always been the more subtle one. and something about being alone, the alcohol flowing through your body, the slight faded look in suguru's eyes and his hand on you felt like so much more than harmless flirting.

"what?" you said, pressing your lips into an awkward smirk. you topped off your drink and put the cup down. geto's eyes flicked down to the drop on your lip and he moved his thumb to wipe it off.

"jeez, sugu. you look like you wanna kiss me" you joked. “maybe i do" his thumb stayed pressed on your plush lip. "do you want me to kiss you y/n" he asked, standing straight. you looked up at him and nod your head.

you leaned in and pecked his lips before pulling away to look at him. "wanted to do this for so fucking long" he hastily kissed you back, hand laying on the side of your neck while the other held your waist.

your arms wrapped around his neck bringing him closer to you. his tongue slipped into your mouth as your lips moved in sync, your lipstick smudging at the sides of his mouth.

"woah!" you heard from behind you. you pulled away and turned to see who it was. "sorry guys, left my phone in here" haibara awkwardly chuckled before walking away.

you turned back to geto, you and him chuckling. "can we go to your room?" you asked him, hand playing with his hair. "you sure you want to?" you bit the bottom of your lip and nod your head before he interlocked your hand in his and guided you to the stairs.

you stepped behind him into his room, unzipping and stepping out of your shoes. his room was neat and organized which was nothing unexpected from him.

you rest your purse on his desk and leaned up to kiss him again. his hands moved through your hair, thumb caressing your cheek.

he let go of your mouth to kiss and suck at the pulse points in your neck, making you sigh with pleasure. you bit your lips at the feeling of his lips sucking when you felt him lightly bite your shoulder eliciting a moan from you. "you're into biting huh?" he smirked.

you undid the buttons on his tux jacket easing it off his broad shoulders. you latched your lips onto his neck returning the favor with a stronger bite. "not necessarily but you seem to be" you smirked back, feeling his dick grow hard against your thigh.

he kissed you again, this time more rushed and needy. you pressed your hands against his chest while his hands roamed your body playing with the hem of your shirt. "if you want it off take it off" you whispered.

he was quick to follow instructions pulling the top over your head allowing your tits to fall free. you grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest, silently telling him to play with it. "you're so fucking beautiful" he whispered.

he squeezed it in his hand, twisting and playing with the small bud between his fingers. he lift your boob to his mouth sucking and moving his tongue over your nipple. you whimpered at the sensation as your hand tangled through his hair, bun finally falling free.

he moved you to his bed and laid you down. his hands hold onto your thighs, they're large and controlling but so soft against the plush of your skin. he pulled your shorts down tossing them to land somewhere on his bedroom floor.

he pressed his thumb at the crotch of your panties and your mouth parted at the pleasure places on your clit. "jesus babe you're soaking, we haven't even done much" he teased you. "please sugu, want you to make me feel good." you pleaded.

"of course baby, spread your legs for me" he pulled down your panties and massaged your clit with his thumb. he moved down on his knees and came face to face with your cunt.

his lips latched onto your pussy ripping a gasp from your throat. "fuck" you sighed, moving your hands to his hair.

his tongue worked over your cunt, pointing when it moved over your clit and flatting when he sucked at your folds. his hand held onto your hip while the other played with your bundle of nerves.

your moans were like music to his ears and you noticed him grinding his hard-on into the side of the bed.

the suction of his lips combined with the licking of his tongue was driving you crazy. "fuck sugu, feels so good" you whimpered. your hand got lost in his hair while the other squeezed at his pillow. his mouth is rough and needy for every part of you.

his fingers ease past your entrance, curling in your core. the feeling of his tongue and lips on you and his fingers stretching you out was mindnumbing and your moans grew louder.

"you taste fucking amazing pretty girl" the vibrations of his words felt heavenly against your walls. "don't stop sugu m'gonna cum" you whined, voice light.

he looked up in your eyes as a go ahead and the tension in your lower stomach eased as you came onto his tongue. he lapped at your cunt and pulled his fingers out of you bringing them up to your lips. "taste yourself pretty girl" he smiled watching as you brought his fingers into your mouth and your tongue swirled around them.

"you're still wearing clothes" you frowned, kneeling on the bed to unbutton his shirt. he loosened his tie and threw it somewhere before pulling his shirt off.

you ogled his incredibly toned torso rubbing your hand over his abs. "jesus sugu, you been hiding all this?" "cant believe you've been hiding all this" he said, hands grazing the contours of your curves.

he continued letting you undress him, sharply inhaling when you grabbed his dick through his boxers. your eyebrows raised in excitement at how hard and heavy he felt in your hand. "you were pretty tight baby you sure you can take it" he smirked. "i can take it" you bit your lip.

you pulled his boxers down and your eyes widened at his size. you pumped his dick with your hand before you took the tip in your mouth.

you licked his slit and smirked when you heard him whimper. you took all of his length in your mouth. you moved your lips up and down his dick using your hands to help you jerk him off.

"fuck y/n your pretty little mouth feels so good" you heard him praise you as his hands held your hair. you couldn't suppress a sloppy moan when you felt him hit the back of your throat.

you used your tongue to circle his tip and groaned when you felt him pull your hair and pull out of your mouth. "cant wait anymore. wanna fuck you" he said, hurriedly grabbing a condom from his nightstand.

he laid you down and lined himself up with your entrance. "fuck!" you moaned out at the feeling of him stretching you. "what's wrong baby, you said you could take it" his eyebrows raised. moving your hair out of your face.

once your walls adjust to his size he picks up the tempo. your legs lift, giving him more access to your core. "fuck sugu~" you moaned. his hand traced up your body to your neck softly choking you.

when you whimpered he grinned "you like being choked pretty?" he asked as he pound into you. you gave him a pleading look and nod your head.

your moans grew louder, filling the room mixing with the sound of your sex and the faint music from downstairs. his thrusts go deeper making you cry out. "you're so tight baby, fucking milking me dry" he groaned.

"you feel fucking amazing" he moaned. he let go of your neck, kneeling back. he scooped your hips up in his arms, arching your back off the bed.

his dick hit deeper inside you as his thrusts sped up. he held onto your hips, fucking you crazy making your mind go numb. his thumb circled your clit eliciting a breathy moan from you.

he fucked himself into you, bed frame beginning to shake. "oh my god!" you cried. "that's not my name baby" he smirked.

his hand moved up to play with your nipple before landing on the side of your neck again. he squeezed harder this time making you pant.

"love your little pussy, it's like it was made for me" he said leaning forward to kiss you.

your nails left scratch marks along his back, sending him crazy. you moved to bite along neck and collar bone leaving small bruise with your sucking.

"suguru i'm gonna cum" you whined. "cum baby, cum all on this dick" he growled in your ear. "go ahead, wanna see my pretty girl cum" he watched as your eyes rolled close and your chest heaved up and down. "good girl" he said kissing your forehead.

the sensation of your walls pulsing against him had him coming shortly after. he leaned down to kiss you again, this time soft and gentle. you stayed like that for a moment before he pulled out of you and got up.

"i'll be right back" he said before walking to the bathroom. he came back with a small wet towel and cleaned you off, eyes not leaving you for even a second. he left again and came back in a pair of boxers. "you have your own bathroom?" you asked him, leaning up into your shoulders.

"called dibs on this room the second we got here. wasn't sharing a bathroom with those idiots" he chuckled, grabbing a water from his mini fridge.

he came to sit with you and handed you the water. "thanks" you said before swallowing down almost half of it. "well i should probably get going now" you shrugged, standing to find your clothes.

"wait" he held your arm. you looked at him confused "stay." he said, more imperative than a plea. "what about the party?" you asked. "fuck the party, just stay" "o-okay" you hid the smile that dared to spread across your face.

he laid back against his pillows, arms pulling you to follow. you softly giggled at him pulling you so close. "why do you want me to stay" you asked, looking up at him from his chest.

"i like you, y/n. if it wasn't obvious before i'm saying it now" he said, moving your hair from your face.

you giggled and hid your face in his chest "i like you too sugu"

#nia writes ࿐#jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #gojo satoru #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #getou x reader #getou suguru #jujustsu kaisen x reader #getou smut #getou suguru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut

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tarjapearce · 11 months

Text

Bad Teachings (Pt. 4)

WARNINGS: Nerd talk, Miguel into Work Mode, Relationship Building, Slow Burn, mild fluff, awkward meetings, british slang, mutual help.

Summary: A little peek into Miguel's daily life. Returning favors, rocky starts.

Pt. 5

Hope you like <3

Pairings: Miguel x Fem!Reader

The alarm beeped, and you rose from bed. You'd usually sleep in late and just chill the evening away if you had the free time for it, if not, you'd work ahead to declutter your to-do list. Something that adult life had taught you was to make the most out of your time and keep a balance between resting and work life.

You washed your teeth and showered, adding a mental note to buy more shampoo and conditioner later. Fifteen minutes after you came out, and did a brief skin care routine to finally get ready. You changed into some baby blue high waisted jeans, a white tank top and cardigan along some white espadrilles. You packed in some work tools such as your laptop, an usb docking station and your usb's.

Need you at 9-

Miguel had texted you around 10 pm, and now you were on your way to his home.

---------------

You knocked on the door and held the two cup holders tightly as your working bag hung on your shoulder. The heavy yet familiar steps approached and soon, the door was open, revealing a sleepy looking Miguel, black sweatpants and robe on. A smear of toothpaste foam on his chin. Baggy eyes are a bit more prominent.

"Coffee?" you smiled sympathetically as he let you in. You then offered a napkin

"Clean your chin." He did with a grunt and took a sip of the coffee.

"Didn't know how you liked it, so I just got it plain with two pieces of sugar."

"It's good, thanks." He mumbled and rubbed his face, tiredly.

Now that your hormones were under control, you actually paid attention to your surroundings, the floor was covered in marble-like textured tiles, and the walls were painted in a soft cream. The overall layout displayed before you.

You were standing in a soft rug, to remove all dirt from outside, to your right there was a small hall and a door at the bottom, the broom peeking out made you guess that it was the cleaning supplies storage, if you walked straight, you'd find the dining table and behind it, the kitchen, a small breakfast island separating the spaces.

Oddly enough the chairs underneath looked as if they hadn't been used in a while, they looked almost brand new except for one that had child-like doodles on it, in different colors. If you walked to the right of the dining table, you'd find the living room.

An L shaped couch along a dark wooden coffee table, a tv set with some shelves full of books and few portraits on each side of it. There was a wall dividing the livingroom and the bedrooms, as another one limited the kitchen, creating another hall between.

The windows in the dining room and his bedroom were made out of thick glass, letting enough natural light to illuminate the spaces. However they were both covered by curtains. Miguel rubbed his eyes as he guided you to your work station. meaning, the dining room. Paper files spreaded all over the glass table.

"You'll work with these. Easy task. Each file is labeled with a letter, the main information is tagged in capital letters, the sub files, or the one related to the main file, are tagged in lowercase letters and a number, it dictates the page." He pointed to the bottom corner of the pages

"But, the lazy ass people I work with just gave me this bundle of papers." He sighed and put on his lenses once more.

"Once you are done organizing, hand them over to me. I need to revise which ones are outdated."

"Wait, so you're working with obsolete information?"

"No, with projects that should have been revised a week ago but were never revised due them being incomplete. Tal Vez una junta y un memo hacen que estos pendejos trabajen bien." He grumbled the last part more to himself than anyone else.

You didn't want to add to his stress, so you picked up the loose paper sheets in the file. He gulped the last remains of caffeine in his cup as you sipped yours.

"Excuse me." You put your work bag on a chair and soon began to follow instructions.

"If you're stuck in something, tell me. I'll be in the living room. " Your paper cup was taken from your hands and he sipped it, then walked back to the living room with a tiny smirk. You were about to protest, but seeing coffee had gotten him a bit more alive, your lips remained shut.

-----------------------

The only sounds in the room were either you flipping and organizing pages or him typing away on the keyboard. A bird chirping somewhere occasionally, or some faint music from a neighbor. You had glanced his way a couple of times, only to find him buried in his work, his figure was something impossible to miss. His lower lip jutted as his brow furrowed as he looked at the screen.

You on the other hand had organized one complete file, it was a short one. And from what you could read, it was about recreating a Japanese pink strawberry in some labs to see if it was feasible enough to start commercializing them. Miguel had done the whole research by himself.

"Y'know? I apologize for giving your intelligence little credit."

He looked at you with a quirked eyebrow

"Did you just call me stupid?"

"W-What? No! No. I didn't mean it like that. Like, I knew you were smart, but, this is a whole new level of smart."

He just chuckled and continued his work.

"Seems you're easy to impress."

"No, it means I just need to increase my standards. And I don't even ask for much really."

He stretched and yawned before taking some papers.

"And what are those?"

You stared at him, a bit taken aback that he would actually ask such trivialities.

"Well... I like a man that knows what he wants. Honest, loyal, not a clown but neither a stuck up guy, someone smart that can teach me stuff, in the same way that is willing to learn about new experiences. Sure of himself, someone I can trust and vice versa, good at communication and someone that has gotten over his ex. Or at least do not repeat patterns that they used to do with their ex."

He huffed at the last bit in mirth.

"Good luck with the last one."

"Yeah, That's why I don't head first into it. And the one that kind of met those requirements had to leave to another country" you shrugged and started on the second file.

"But yeah, anyway. I'm impressed that you alone lead these sorts of investigations. Not a good team player?" you smirked and he shook his head.

"Not really. "

"Oh... Well, sometimes it is more about the people you work with than the job itself, I guess."

He stared at you, eyes full of quiet wonder, but the beeping of his phone interrupted his train of thoughts.

"Hold on, gotta pick up"

You nodded and continued your work. He disappeared into his bedroom.

The second file was about rectifying the propension of field corn in getting infected by fungus. And the third one was about creating a substance or reactive that could reveal any anomalies in pregnant animals raised in captivity to preserve the species. The more you read about said files the more your admiration grew. And so the need to make things right.

"Feeling hungry?" He spoke from the hall, the clock had ticked 12 midday. You both were so engrossed in your respective works that you forgot about time.

"Uh, a little."

You kept organizing files and separating the projects, reading and learning about them on the go.

"What do you wanna eat?"

"You're ordering or cooking?"

"Ordering."

"Uh, a poke bowl sounds nice."

"A what?" He scrunched his nose and you giggled.

"It's a hawaiian dish made out of raw marinated fish and veggies or rice. Quite nutritious and delicious."

"Sounds nice, except for the raw fish."

"Haha, don't worry, there is a place that sells them with other cooked protein. I highly recommend the salmon glazed one. My treat"

"No. You got me coffee in the morning. We're even."

"Alright. Lemme get you the place´s number."

--------------------------

"So... how do you eat this?" You grabbed the chopsticks and grabbed a piece of glazed salmon.

"Just like that. Give it a try. " you smiled as your hand passed his packed chopsticks. He stared at them for a second and sighed.

"Please?

"If you just wanna laugh at me, say it"

You couldn't help but chuckle and shake your head.

"Pfft. It took me a while to get used to them too. But yeah, this will be funny."

"Sólo porque me lo pides de por favor..."

You always gave him a confused look whenever he spoke in what you could guess whas his mother language. He ripped the small package open and separated the sticks.

"Now, put the lower stick between your thumb and index finger, like tha- , No, no. Yes! Like that! And the other one must be held by the thumb and the middle finger"

There were two main emotions going through his face, frustration and determination. It turned into complete frustration when the small piece of protein fell off his chopsticks.

"It's fine if you don't get it at the first one. Takes a bit of practice." You handed him a plastic fork and smiled, he took it with a light scowl as you kept eating with the chopsticks.

"Besides, once you master them you can eat anything with it. Even snacks so your fingers don't get all... sticky."

"I'm staying with forks and knives, thanks."

You both couldn't help but chuckle.

"What has been the most difficult project to you, so far?"

"The ADA reactive in animals."

"Anomaly Detector Algorithm, right?" The corner of his lips curved slightly upwards at your response.

"Glad to see you're doing your homework, guapa."

"Your work is interesting. By the way, the Corn Field Fungus one is incomplete. Couldn't find the other pages"

He shrugged and finished eating.

"Not my fault. They are not doing their job properly, so of course it was incomplete."

"Sounds... stressing. Your job I mean."

"It is when incompetent people are in charge of things they shouldn't be. But when people know what they are doing, it's different."

"So, basically your job is modifying DNA from things to make things better or create alternative solutions if things don't get better?"

"Simple as that" He nodded, "We gotta check those files before creating the digital copy"

He stood and you quickly finished up your meal, smearing some sauce on your chin, you were about to retrieve the empty plastic bowl to put it in the trash when he cupped your face with a single hand and pulled it gently towards him. He used a napkin to clean the smear and nodded.

"That's better. Get to work" He went back to his work spot and so did you, after cleaning the table. Cheeks flushing.

---------------------

"I'll send you the first transcribed file, so you can check it out as I'm finishing the third one."

"Sure."

He stretched once more to then give the last sip from another mug of coffee. The man lived on caffeine, or he was beyond exhausted and coffee kept him up. You had your work tools out. The noises of your typing mixed with his, almost as fast as he was.

"Want more coffee?" You offered as his eyes drooped.

"Not really. Can't surpass my fifth one."

"Then you should rest your eyes a bit. Take a break of five."

"We're almost done."

"That's precisely why you need five minutes off. Is the light bothering you?"

"A little"

He rubbed his eyes as he pinched his nose bridge. Gruff voice coming as a rough whisper as you turned the unnecessary lights off, leaving the living room's on only. Then you soaked a clean handkerchief with cold water and returned to his side.

"Here." you offered the cold and wet piece of cloth with a small smile. "Close your eyes and put it on."

He didn't seem convinced that it would do anything, but your willingness to alleviate his distress made him take the cloth and put it on his eyes. He exhaled at the coolness the item provided.

You sat next to him and continued your job, as quietly as you possibly could. Even after the five minutes passed, you didn't move him. He was exhausted. The living room was lit enough to give you a small glimpse of what the shelves had.

Books on Genetics, probably from college, maths, engineering, some spanish titles you quite didn't understand. What threw you off guard was some children's book and stories in one space of the shelf.

Titles like "El Principito", "Cuentos Por Teléfono" "A Bear Called Paddington '' among others with colorful pictures of dinosaurs, soccer balls and some tattered coloring books.

Your eyes squinted as they settled for a portrait, It was a little girl, Black hair as Miguel's combed in a high ponytail as a red headband adorned her front section of the head, keeping the smaller and wild hairs under control. Her smile was cheerful as she held a golden trophy with a soccer player motif on top.

The words "Mi Sol" written in the left corner. The only picture of her in the portraits Miguel jerked awake and your eyes were casted back to the screen.

"Feel better?" He just nodded and exhaled.

"Here's the other two files" You mumbled and passed the usb to him, his large hand covering yours for a second. You waited as his eyes dragged across his screen.

Eyes going from squinting, frowning to widen gently. He gave you a rusty smile.

"Good job."

"Thanks. Glad to help." your smile was genuine, almost smug. You exhaled, relieved. Clock ticking 7 pm.

"Is there anything else you need help with?"

" All done.Thanks."

"Alright, I shall get going then. It's getting late"

"Then, Stay." You looked at him with a pout.

"As much as I'd like to, you are exhausted, slept on the couch for more than five minutes, you need sleep."

It was his turn to give you a smug smile and you rolled your eyes.

"And stop drinking that much caffeine. You'll get a heart attack."

"A myth, by the way. Five cups is fine"

"If you say so"

Smiling, you put your tools back in your work bag and went for the door, he followed you.

"Thanks for the help"

"Anytime." You nodded.

He just stood on the doorframe, watching you as your nerves rioted inside you, was he expecting a hug? a kiss goodbye? You didn't know.

"Uh, Bye then. Don't forget to sleep" You ended up waving, unsure of giving a more intimate farewell. He seemed amused at your choice.

"Pasa linda noche, muñeca" You heard him mutter before the elevator's door closed.

---------------------

Your elevator's door slid open, revealing the ever long hallway, work bag slinging on your left shoulder as your keys tinkered upon grabbing them. You tried to open the door but to your little surprise the door wouldn't budge. You groaned in annoyance as you pushed, to no avail. All happiness from a good deed done, drained away.

"Fuck." You heaved as you tried once more and failed. Taking your phone out, you recorded a small video for evidence, to send it to the landlord.

No matter how much you pushed the door, or turned the key, the door was stuck. You couldn't help but kick it, but regretted it instantly. Shoes too soft against a sturdy metal door.

"Fuck!" you whined, both in pain and exasperated.

"Seems ya could use some help"

British deep voice from behind you

"Be my guest. This thing wouldn't budge."

"Been having troubles with it too?"

"I already sent the evidence to Mr. Cufton. Hopefully he will fix the damn thing for real this time."

"I'm sure the bloke will be buzzin' when he sees it"

Hobbie stepped closer and took the keys. He turned them around a couple of times and pushed against the door with all his might.

"Goddamn..." Your eyes widened as he opened the door for you, he seemed unfazed, almost used to it.

"Thanks, Hobie."

"No problem." He stepped out of your apartment with his hands stuck in the pockets of his jacket.

"Have a good night." He nodded your way with a lax smile, you closed the door and opened it a couple of times to make sure it would work in the morning.

You prepared the food for the week, your clothes and a small presentation that was sent to you to be corrected last minute.

And soon went to sleep.

-----------------

You were having a bad day as it is, the door was jammed again and made you get one hour late since Mr. Cufton barely replied your way, and had another neighbor help you out. Traffic was insane, and when you got to your office, ready to start your day, the usb storage box wasn't in your tote bag.

Panic surged through you as your hands frantically searched for the small plastic box. You not only had a couple of months worth of work in them, but also some other coworker projects that would be presented in a couple of days.

It didn't help that the newest client was bitching about the little flow of movement her new beauty products' line was receiving. The responsibility falls directly on your both superiors and you.

Then, your superiors reprimanding you for not having the usb on hand to show the manager the newest projects to be soon developed in the firm and Mr. Cufton announced the door wouldn't be replaced until next week. As soon as 5 pm ticked in, you bolted out the place.

You couldn't help but cry out of frustration, however a ding on your phone prevented you from weeping in the parking lot.

I believe this is yours?-

He had sent the image of the usb box you had looked up. In all your haste, you had barely thought of it staying behind at Miguel's.

Forgot to mention this in the morning-.

Of course he would. He was super busy. You couldn't help but actually cry, relieved that at least one of your problems, one of the biggest problems was solved.

-You literally just saved my ass from being fired... Thank you so much. I'll pick it up at your place. Is that ok?

Give me your location, I'm not home yet.-

Stuck in traffic.-

-Neither do I, but I'll be there in 15 minutes.

You shared your home location, and drove home. Traffic only held you back for five minutes. You parked the car in the usual numbered spot assigned with your apartment number. Then took the elevator, work tote bag in hand, face still red from your previous crying, and finally you managed to get home and let Miguel know you were already there and your apartment number.

You knew you had to open the door to at least put your things away, and make yourself look less beaten up by life. Sadly there was no Hobie or the other friendly neighbor to help you out. The only times you saw Hobie was around seven or eight pm, and there was no sign of the other guy. You prepared mentally to struggle against an inanimate object.

First time was worthless, the second time was even worse. You had only slammed your body against it, earning another pain in your tender shoulder's muscles. Just when you were going to try a third time, Miguel called you from the hallway. You were on the verge of tears again, your face flushed like a tomato.

"You ok?"

You shook your head as you tried your best to keep the tears inside.

"Shitty day but, you saved my ass, again."

"What's wrong with the door?"

"It's stuck and the landlord will replace it until next week. Got an hour late at job because I got trapped inside" your voice was the first thing in breaking.

Miguel stared at you for a moment and then put his things down on the floor with a sigh. He rolled up his sleeves and grabbed your keys that felt tiny on his large hands. He could feel the weight of the door against the doorframe, knowing that if he was too rough, the whole door would cave in and make the problem worse.

He just stared at it's structure for some minutes, evaluating what could be wrong with it.

The elevator dinged open, revealing Hobie with a bag of groceries. He entered his apartment to drop the bags and then came your way. Eyeing the situation from afar.

"You gotta push against it, mate" He wore ripped jeans, his red boots, a sleeveless and irregular neck shaped shirt and studded bracelets.

Miguel acknowledged him with a glance before focusing on the door again.

"That's probably what messed up the hinges last night."

Hobie's eyebrow quirked as he deadpanned.

"If I push the door open, the whole thing will cave in and it'll make everything worse" Miguel spoke as he gently took the doorknob and pulled back, the door creaked but it didn't cave in, but it fell back on the floor with a metallic thud.

Miguel looked at the back of the door and grunted.

"That's the problem. Hinges are rusted, and the screws are loose."

"Hobie? Could I borrow your tools for a second?"

"Haven't unpacked them yet, birdie"

If there was a staring contest, you were sure it was a tie. Miguel's ever present frown deepened slightly as Hobie gave him a complete poker face. Tension in the air, you saw your other friendly neighbor coming through the elevator with his dog.

"It's okay, I'll ask him." You smiled nervously at him and approached your neighbor to ask him for some tools.

Hobie huffed with a slight smirk at Miguel

"Good luck with that dead naff door, mate. Imma leg out."

He turned around and left, giving a quiet smile your way.

"Charming" he mumbled once he was out of hearing

"Told you to be nice. He helped me out last night." you gave the screwdrivers to him, "Need any help?"

"I'm good. Yo me encargo"

"Yeah, Y'know I might start learning spanish cause... I don't understand what you're saying sometimes"

He smiled mischievously as he effortlessly held the door and began screwing it back to its place.

"What's the fun in that then?"

"I mean, for all I know you could be making fun of me or worse" you spoke as you picked up his belongings and yours to take them inside.

" Or worse? Hm... probably"

"You're mean. But I'm grateful you're helping me out. Again."

"At this point I'll start keeping tabs."

"Ouch."

---------------

Miguel fixed your door, but explained to you it was a temporary solution, lucky you'd know how to fix it in case another incident happened.

"Here" you gave him a glass of water as he looked around, taking in your surroundings. He then gave you the storage box.

"What happened today?" he drank from the glass

"Oh... uh, I told you shitty day. Got trapped here, got an hour late at work, the client was pissed she wasn't getting the numbers right of her products, blamed my boss and me," you sighed, annoyed

"Then the manager scolded me for not having the data on hand, cause it's in one of these little things, then the landlord told me my door is getting replaced next week, traffic and the door. But now, at least three of those issues are solved."

You slumped on the couch. exhausted

"Sorry for always dragging you to help me around"

"You apologize too much. "

You were about to open your mouth to apologize but remained shut. His frown decreased a bit and his face relaxed.

"Gotta go"

"Sure, Thanks for the help. I really appreciate it."

"De nada, hermosa"

"Might call you one day to help me out with some furniture that needs to be assembled"

He deadpanned and you giggled.

"Of course I am joking. I know you are really busy."

He picked up his things and you went to the door with him.

"Might do some time for that"

"Really? I might prepare something to eat then. Or maybe you could show me some cooking skills"

"I'll think about it"

You nodded with a bashful smile.

"Thanks, Miguel."

"See you"

You closed the door, it didn't lock you up this time.

---------------------

Tal Vez una junta y un memo hacen que estos pendejos trabajen bien.- Maybe a meeting and a memo will make these fuckers to work properly

Sólo porque me lo pides de por favor.. - Only cause you're asking nicely

El Principito - The Little Prince

"Cuentos Por Teléfono- Telephone Tales (Highly recommended btw <3 By Gianni Rodari)

Mi Sol - My Sun

Pasa linda noche, muñeca- Have a nice night, doll

Yo me encargo - I've got this

De nada, hermosa - You're welcome, beautiful

Taglist ❤️

@vyxvi

-------------

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #female reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel ohara x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #slow burn #Rocky start with Hobie

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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months

Note

Nother idea: Wayne & Eddie coming home from a long ass day, tired & stressed, both of them arriving at their trailer at the same time. Both of them taking a deep breath knowing that they'll have to clean up & prepare dinner but both are exhausted. But when they come in their trailer is sparkling clean. The floors swept & mopped, dirty clothes put into the wash, clean clothes folded neatly on the couch in piles for both Eddie and Wayne. Their trailer smells clean & fresh, they turn towards the kitchen & see Steve humming quietly to himself along with the radio on low as he pulls fresh made supper from the oven, on the counters are baked goods cooling. Wayne & Eddie realizing that Steve not only cleaned up their home but he prepared them easy to reheat meals, cleaned up their space bc he knew they'd be exhausted & both of them like the trailer to be clean, but neither had time. So he did it because they are his family & he loves them & wants them to feel safe and cared for in their new home.

MY LOVE! So I kinda ran with a somewhat different background plot, just because it kind of felt like I needed to show that Steve ain't slackin'. I also moved this one ahead of another request because I needed to write Wayne in a sappy way after chapter 2 of demon Steve. Steve was born to be a housewife with guidance counselor tendencies and I don't make the rules. ENJOY! - Mickala ❤️

-------------------------------------------------------

Eddie felt the exhaustion fully hit him as soon as he put his van in park.

He’d been working more overtime over the last month to save up for the down payment on the house he and Steve fell in love with.

The government money helped, but it mostly went to medical bills and a new van when his old one had become government property.

Wayne told him to keep as much of it saved as he could. “You never know what life will throw at ya,” he’d said.

Steve had been working a lot too, but was focusing on his classes at the community college, trying to set up a better future for both of them.

It meant that Eddie was pulling a lot of the financial weight right now, that Wayne was doing as much as he could for them so they could actually save up, but it would all be worth it.

Wayne knocked on his window and he blinked his eyes open again.

When had he even closed them?

Eddie opened the door and stepped out, groaning at the ache in his knee. It still wasn’t 100%, probably never would be as long as he was doing physical labor, and today had been particularly rough at the shop.

“Alright, bud?” Wayne asked him, hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah. Just tired,” Eddie replied.

“You and me both. Let’s go relax a bit.”

But relaxing wouldn’t be on the table until they fixed dinner and cleaned up a bit and Eddie knew the faucet had been leaking when he left this morning and they didn’t need a leak like that running up the water bill, so he should probably try to fix it before bed.

He let Wayne go in first, as always, knowing he’d take longer going up the porch steps.

He could handle walking just fine most of the time, but stairs were a bitch.

He nearly walked right into Wayne when he walked through the front door, the older man standing stock still right in the entrance.

“Wayne? You good?” Eddie asked, his mind suddenly filtering through any number of terrible reasons for his sudden frozen demeanor.

And then he could smell it.

Cookies.

Someone was baking cookies.

And then he saw it.

The living room was completely cleaned and organized, magazines stacked neatly on the table, no crumbs on the couch or carpet, the weird mud stain from Eddie’s boots no longer on the rug by the front door.

He heard the record player going, though the volume was low enough that he could also hear Steve singing in the kitchen.

“Looks like your boy’s been busy,” Wayne smirked over his shoulder at him.

“I don’t-“ Eddie started to say.

“Eds? Wayne? You guys home?” Steve called from the kitchen.

Before they answered, he walked around the corner with an apron on, his glasses perched on his nose, and a beaming smile on his face.

“I just put the lasagna back in the oven to heat up a bit for you. Had to wait for the cookies to come out,” Steve said as he walked towards them.

He wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck and kissed him on the lips quickly, then pulled away to give Wayne a quick side hug.

“I made some lemonade that should be nice and cold by now. You want some?”

Eddie and Wayne blinked at him, surprise at what was happening rendering them speechless.

“Is everything okay?” Steve’s tone shifted to concern, the smile dropping from his face as he took in their stillness.

“You cleaned?” Wayne asked.

“And cooked?” Eddie asked.

“And baked?” Wayne added.

“My afternoon class was canceled and Keith said he wouldn’t approve overtime for me, so. I came home?” Steve still looked concerned, like he was waiting for one or both of them to start yelling at him.

“Where’s your car?” Wayne asked.

That was a great question. Eddie just realized it wasn’t in the yard, which was half the reason he’d been shocked to see Steve here at all.

“Oh! Max needed to go to therapy. I was already in the middle of baking so I told her she could just use it as long as she was back by eight.”

“So you’ve been cleaning and baking and cooking all afternoon? For us?” Eddie asked, biting back as much emotion as he could.

He was tired and overwhelmed with love and he knew he would start crying if he didn’t contain some of it.

“I just wanted to take care of you guys and take care of our house. You worked all day and I had some free time to do it,” Steve shrugged.

Wayne collected himself first, moving toward Steve and squeezing his shoulder.

“Thanks, son. You don’t know how much I appreciate ya doin’ all this,” he said, voice slightly choked up.

“It’s no problem, Wayne,” Steve replied, face red.

“Mind if I go grab a shower first?” he asked Eddie.

“Fine with me,” Eddie responded.

Wayne nodded once, smiling at them both, and walked to his room to grab clothes for after his shower.

Steve looked up at Eddie shyly.

“Lasagna will be about 20 more minutes if you wanna grab a drink,” he said quietly.

Eddie smirked.

“Some of that lemonade sounds nice,” he played along, knowing exactly where this was going.

No matter how tired or sore he was, he wouldn’t turn down the chance to get his hands on Steve or have Steve’s hands on him.

Steve led him into the kitchen by his hand, tugging him along as he excitedly explained that he’d found the lemons at a farm stand on his way home from work yesterday and considered using them for a cheesecake, but decided this would be better.

Eddie smiled at him fondly, just happy that Steve is happy.

“I’ll get you a glass, just wait right there,” Steve said, pushing him against the counter gently.

But Eddie didn’t let him pull away yet, fisted his shirt and pulled him against his front.

“Eds!” Steve yelped as they made contact.

“I’m sure the lemonade is perfect, but I want a taste of you first, sugar,” Eddie mumbled, leaning down to press his lips against Steve’s.

Steve melted against him, letting Eddie’s tongue past his lips and letting out a low moan when Eddie’s hands squeezed his ass.

“What’re you doing?” he whispered against Eddie’s lips.

“Touching you,” Eddie answered before kissing the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his jaw.

“Wayne though.”

“He’s already in the shower. We got a few minutes.”

“We can’t do much in a few minutes,” Steve said, trying to stifle another moan as Eddie’s fingers untied his apron and slid to the front of his jeans to undo his button.

“You underestimate how hot it is to see you like a little housewife, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckled.

Steve slapped his arm.

“Not a housewife.”

“No? You sure seemed happy about cleaning up and cooking for me,” Eddie said as he slid his hands into the waistband of Steve’s boxers.

“Eds,” he gasped, but didn’t stop him as he wrapped his hand around his half-hard cock.

“Get me out, Stevie. Don’t have much time,” Eddie groaned.

Steve did as he was asked, but still seemed hesitant.

Eddie paused.

“You wanna call it?” he asked.

If Steve truly didn’t want to, he knew what to say to stop, and he knew Eddie would stop, no questions asked.

But he shook his head, biting his lip to contain a whimper as Eddie looked down at their cocks and spit.

“Gotta stay quiet, still. Don’t wanna be caught,” Eddie whispered as he leaned in to kiss him again, keep his mouth preoccupied so he didn’t give them away.

He knew Wayne would be at least another 10 minutes, but they both liked the idea of having to stay quiet and be quick.

And quick it was.

They both came in barely two minutes, Eddie riled up from Steve just being Steve, Steve being riled up at the fact they were doing this in the kitchen.

“I just cleaned this floor, you better not have gotten anything on it,” Steve smirked at Eddie as they buttoned themselves back up.

“Promise I’ll clean it up myself if I did.”

“You better. Gonna go shower next?” Steve tied the apron back up, walking over to the fridge to finally get the lemonade.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sore today. Hot water will help.”

Steve turned to him with a furrowed brow.

“You should’ve said, baby. You need some Motrin or something?”

“Nah, maybe after I eat. Got a dose of you to help,” he winked obnoxiously.

“Alright, keep it in your pants,” Steve said as he poured a glass for Eddie and a glass for Wayne.

“You’re the one who had it out a minute ago!”

Steve just gave him a dead-eyed stare before handing him his lemonade.

“Get out of my kitchen.”

“Sir, yes sir!” Eddie saluted.

He took a few sips of the lemonade as he walked towards his bedroom to grab clothes.

It was delicious, as he expected.

Just like coming home to Steve every day.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet #request #wayne munson #steve's housewife tendencies

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 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

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sapphicmsmarvel · 1 month

Text

Modern!Azriel: "too much"

lol i’m projecting in this one. this is how my extended family has always made me feel so 🤷🏻‍♀️

tw: not eating due to anxiety.

-You kept Azriel hidden from your extended family for three years.

-You truly did not have much association with them. They were kind but not loving towards you.

-Your parents knew of him as well as the two cousins you were closest with that actually loved you.

-About a year in, you and Azriel had the talk about your extended family.

At first, Azriel was kind of hurt by it. He brought you around his family. His chosen and blood when he had to.

-Your first major argument was about you keeping him away from your family.

“Are you embarrassed by me?” His voice cracked.

“What? No! This isn’t about you, Azriel.” You sighed.

“Then what is it? Are you freaking out about commitment to something?”

“I just don’t want to bring you around them!” You cried.

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You crossed your arms.

“Yes it does! Clearly something is bothering you. I cannot rest until I know what it is, Y/N.” He sighed. “I feel like I’m back in high school and my girlfriend is embarrassed to be seen with me.”

That’s when your tears broke. You didn’t cry often. It took a while before you felt safe enough to do so in front of him.

“I just…” You wiped your eyes and sniffed. “I’m really scared to bring you around them because I don’t want one of the few good things in my life to be tainted by them.”

His silence spurred you on. “I don’t want you to be chased away.”

“Baby,” He sighed. He walked to where you were in the dining room and leaned against the table in front of you. His legs spread, he put his hands on that plush waist he loves so much, and pulled you towards him. “I don’t want to push you, I’m sorry my insecurity got the better of me. But, you do see where I'm coming from, yes?”

You sniffed and nodded, “I’d feel the same. I’m sorry I didn’t communicate properly.”

“You were scared.” He justified it for you.

“So were you a few minutes ago.” You nudged his shoulder. “If you’re going to validate me, I'm going to validate you.”

“Two people pleasers in a relationship huh?” He chuckled.

“That’s why we’re working on communication.” You brought your hands up to his broad shoulders. “Can we talk about this tonight? I just need to organize my thoughts a bit before….” You struggled to find the right words. “Ugh let me start over.” You sighed.

He couldn’t help his smile, his girl was trying so hard. “I want to be able to eloquently tell you what's going on. It’s not you, it’s not even me, well kind of since I’m not letting you around them. But, they are a big issue.”

“Okay, I’ll order our favorite takeout and we can talk about it when we’re eating. Is 20 minutes enough to help you get your thoughts together?”

“Yeah.” You smiled, he wasn’t judging you. He was accepting you. Your neurodivergency and the way your mind worked. He kissed your forehead and went off to order the food. He knew your order by heart.

-So when you guys got your food, you began to tell the story. How you were never “one of them” despite growing up with them. You were always left out and kids were mean. Then you came out as queer, which didn’t help being left out. Everyone looked at you weird.

He knew better than anyone how it felt to be left out and hurt by your blood relatives. Granted, completely different situations however both are valid situations.

He assured you he wasn’t upset at you, he was upset for you. He then told you how he would wait patiently. A couple of times, you almost got enough courage to do it. But then chickened out and just stayed home with him. You never went to those gatherings without someone. To be frank, you preferred Azriel’s company.

-So when you finally took the plunge it was terrifying.

-It was your aunt's birthday, a week before thanksgiving. You told them about him, they were all shocked to say the least that you had a partner and had had one for three years.

-Then you got the normal guilt trip of “why didn’t you say something sooner?” or “why didn’t you bring him”

-Not “what’d i do to make you feel unsafe telling me this?” But that’s besides the point.

-So the next week, you brought him to thanksgiving.

-Your family was shocked to say the least.

-That the loudest, vulgar, weird person in their family got the quietest, kindest man.

-Azriel knew how you felt about this part of the family. You had always felt left out, like you weren’t good enough. You were ostracized as a child from them because you were different.

-You were the only cousin that wasn’t baptized. Which made you different enough. But you’d rather think for yourself and your parents raised you without religion so you could choose your own path.

-You cussed, you had tattoos, piercings. You wore clothes you were comfortable in which meant yeah, sometimes you wore a tank top that showed a bit of boobs. You wore all black as well. Also you were the plus size family member and you were queer. So that didn’t help the “fitting in” aspect.

-He wore a nice black henley and black jeans. As well as his boots. He wanted to make a nice impression even though you told him that he could show up naked and you wouldn’t care.

-He would. He wasn’t modest but he’d rather not have his future in-laws seeing his ‘monster cock’ as you called it.

-God, he genuinely loved your vulgarity.

-He knew how nervous you were, he knew you’d barely eat anything just because of sheer anxiety. His goal was to make sure you ate some appetizers or something.

-When you walked in, you could tell your family was just floored by him. He greeted everyone with the proper “Mr.” and “Mrs/Ms/Miss.” He shook everyone's hands, smiled at your baby cousins who knew nothing of the strange man but were comfortable enough to wave at him.

The entire time, he had a hand on your waist. Showing he’s on your side.

-You warned him that your family was going to eventually get him alone to talk to him about you to which he responded with “let them.”

They weren’t pissing him off too much. He didn’t like the way some of them were around you. Like you were someone to avoid. When he knew that you were the safest person in the room to any stranger, let alone him.

”I’m sure sometimes she can be overwhelming.” Your aunt said as if it was a fun little tidbit. But he knew it was a jab.

If smiles could kill, Azriel’s could’ve maimed her. “Actually she’s perfect.” He let his guard down enough to look at you across the room with your cousins, a lovestruck look on his face. “If she’d let me, I’d marry her tomorrow.”

Your family was clearly surprised. You had never brought anyone around and now you bring this guy for the first time and he’s ready to marry you?

-Throughout the day, he kept trying to get you to come out of your shell a bit.

-When he made you snort in laughter, he let out his first real smile all day. Let these assholes see how happy you make him.

-Then he noticed your elderly family member glaring at your tattoos. She was caught by Azriel and had the decency to have a look on her face like “can you blame me?” To which he smiled and rolled up his sleeves to show off his ink.

She had the decency to look embarrassed.

-Your family quickly began to see a real side of you. One that’s comfortable in her space enough to lean on someone. That someone was Azriel.

-Shortly after the meal, you two left. Claiming you had to go to Azriel’s mothers. They didn’t need to know that you had thanksgiving with her and the whole chosen family the day before.

-You were finally able to relax when the door shut to the car. You two began the drive back home to the city.

-You snuggled into him over the center console. Your arm wrapped around his bicep as he drove. You sighed, completely content and he kissed your temple while keeping his eyes on the road.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“What for?”

“Just…loving me as I am.”

“You should not feel the need to thank me for that.” He said.

“Well I am. So deal with it.” You huffed, but you kissed his arm through his shirt. “You’re never embarrassed of me, you take me in stride and love me as if I’m…” You trailed off. “Irreplaceable.”

“You are.” He said so earnestly that you almost weeped. You squeezed him tighter. “You make me feel so happy, so….loved. I’ve never felt so loved. Those people are fools for not seeing how incredible you are.”

You felt your eyes getting misty. “You’re so getting head tonight.” You whispered.

He let out a loud, sharp laugh of surprise. Yeah, he was in it forever.

#acotar x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader fluff

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lousypotatoes · 2 months

Text

I'm Laughin' The Clouds

Song Recommendation:

Dangerous Woman - Ariana Grande

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Present....

The room was deathly quiet for a few moments.

Then all of a sudden, Alastor picked Y/N up and spun her around.

"Oh my stars!" he said, putting her down. "It's so wonderful to see you again, my dear!"

"Oh Alastor," she gushed. "I never thought I would see you again."

"As did I!"

"Woah hold the fuck on," Husk blurted out. "How do ya'll know each other?"

"They're both Overlords, obviously," Vaggie said.

"Not all Overlords know each other by name," Y/N explained. "We knew each other when we were alive."

"How did a sweetheart like you end up in Hell?" Alastor asked.

"That's a story for another time," she waved it off. "I could ask the same thing about you, Al."

Everyone else in the Hotel stayed in a stunned silence, watching Alastor and Y/N interact.

"Alas, I'd love to stay and catch up more," Alastor said, twirling his cane around. "But unfortunately, I have some work to do regarding the Hotel. Perhaps we can chat later?"

"I look forward to it,"

"Splendid!" Alastor exclaimed, taking Y/N's hand and kissing her knuckles. "Until then, my dear."

Alastor then melted into the shadows.

She stood there, blushing at the contact they had.

"Sooo, Y/N and Smiles, getting it onnn~" Angel said, thrusting the air.

"You are so gross, Angel," Vaggie said, rubbing her forehead.

"This is so cool!" Charlie exclaimed, clapping. "I didn't know Alastor had any other friends!"

"Yeah," she said awkwardly. "Um- can you show me to my room now Char-"

"Don't try to change the subject baby," Angel interrupted. "I wanna know how exactly you two know each other~"

"Hey, If Y/N doesn't wanna tell us, that's perfectly fine," Charlie said, grabbing onto Y/N's shoulders. "C'mon Y/N, I'll show you to your room."

The room was small but cozy. Snapping her fingers, all of her furniture, plus her dog, appeared in the room, everything all set up.

Your dog woke up, curious to where she was, she started barking.

"Calm down Honey," Y/N said, stroking her head. "We'll be stayin' here for a while."

Y/N sat down on her bed, thinking about the day's events.

What did Alastor do to get sent down to Hell? He was the sweetest man when they were alive, she was devasted when she got the call that Alastor had been shot by a hunter.

It had been a few days since Y/N had arrived at the hotel. She had barely seen Alastor around. She was wondering if he wanted to talk to her as much as she wanted to talk to him. Charlie and Y/N both decided that she would be the assistant facility manger, the assistant to Alastor.

"Sorry ma'am but I only kill people in Hell," she said into the phone, pacing her room.

"How do you even kill down here?" the person asked. "You do know that Sinners can respawn right?"

"Yes ma'am, I know Sinners can respawn," she said, getting annoyed. "That's why I use angelic weapons."

"Why don't you kill you on Earth?"

"Are you stupid or retarded?" she said, starting to get mad. "Sinners can't travel to Earth. But I can recommend you to some friends of mine who can actually travel to Earth."

"But you're an Overlord, how come you can't travel to Earth?"

"Lady, I swear to fuckin' god, just shut the fuck up," she snarled into the phone.

"You don't have the right to talk to me like that!" the lady on the side of the phone screamed.

"Do you know who I am?!" Y/N growled, her wings unfurling and her claws coming out. "I'm goin' to find you, and when I do, I'm gonna gut you like a pig and eat your organs while you're still alive."

Suddenly, there was knock at the door.

"Come in," she said, as calmly she could, quickly hanging up the phone and retracting her wings and claws.

The door opened and Alastor stepped into the room.

"Is everything alright, my dear?" he asked, his smile widening when he saw her. "I heard quite the commotion in here."

"Yes, I'm fine," Y/N said, attempting to calm herself down. "Is there somethin' I could help you with?"

"Seeing as you're my assistant," he began. "I need you to help me create a commercial."

"Oh yeah, of course," she said. "When?"

"Right now,"

"Oh well um," she stuttered. "I was kind of in the middle of somethin' before you came in here."

"Oh yes," Alastor said, bending down, so that their faces were inches apart. "I believe your exact words were 'gut you like a pig and eat your organs.'"

"You were listenin' to my conversation?" she huffed, blush creeping on her face.

"It's hard not to when you're screaming, dear." he said, chuckling.

"Fine," she muttered.

"Splendid!" he said, straightening up. "This will give us the perfect opportunity to catch up!"

"Can't wait," she said, as the two of them walked out of her room.

"Where exactly are we goin'?" she asked as they walked around Pentagram City.

"We're looking for the perfect place to shoot our first scene," he said. "Now tell me, dear, how in the world did someone like you end up down here?"

"I uh-" she said, trying to look for the words. "People hired me to kill for them,"

Alastor's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yeah," she laughed awkwardly. "Remember when the mayor got shot in the head at the openin' of that new hospital?"

"That was you?"

She sheepishly nodded "Yup,"

"You caused quite the scandal, Y/N," Alastor complimented. "I'm impressed.

"Why thank you," she grinned. "Why are you down here, Al?"

"Same as you," he said simply. "Only I didn't kill people for money,"

"You hid that fact really well, then" she giggled.

"I could say the same for you, darling,"

"Oh look!" she said, pointing at a bunch of demons fighting. "We could shoot over there,"

"That's perfect!" Alastor said. "You have really good eyes, my dear,"

"That's part of being a falcon demon," she laughed.

After getting the camera shot, the two of them headed back to the hotel.

"I'm not used to walkin' places," she said, stretching out her wings. "I'm so used to flyin' everywhere."

"I can tell," Alastor laughed.

"What's that supposed to mean, Al?" she laughed, hitting his arm.

"Nothing, nothing," Alastor chuckled.

"Still full of mysteries, I see,"

"Oh, you have have no idea, darling,"

"If I may," she began, "Where were you those seven years?"

"Like you said earlier dear, that's a story for another time,"

"How much more footage do we need?" she asked as they made their way up the hill that led to the Hotel.

"Not too much more," he said. "Just some shots of the Hotel."

"Hey, after we finish shootin' for the commercial," she said, blushing, her wings fluttering behind her. "Do you maybe wanna maybe get a drink and talk more?"

"It would be my pleasure, dear,"

sorry that this one is longer than the other ones, I got too carried away with the writing.

i wonder what it would be like to be an Overlord.

remember to stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💋

@maksdust @trippoverrt @slytherin4ever @lucifers-silhouette @a-small-tyrant @leviwife1

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