#// i’ll try to push out some more stuff throughout the week

[portalizes]

hello! i’m cherry (18 &&. she/any), and this is a selective &&. mutual – only roleplay blog, featuring multiple female muses from the rick and morty franchise!

unfortunately, i don’t have a laptop at the moment, so i can’t set up this blog exactly how i would like at the moment. but, i do want to try setting up this account as much as possible so when i do get my laptop i can get right to it! ^___^

feel free to inbox me in the meantime, my discord is available as well for those who ask!

[tojissidewhore]

about olderboyfriend!gojo

i feel like this could go two ways. ether he’s a man child and the most whiny man on earth, or he’s the most manipulative and possessive man ever. (but only because he thinks your age gap makes his actions okay, he’s delulu like that.).

scenario one

you two met through a mutual friend, at their birthday party. Gojo had immediately caught your eye, he wasn’t easy to miss, mainly because of his slender figure and his unique features. but the more you observed him and interacted with him throughout the night, the more his personality stood out to you.

he was very social and goofy, in a funny way, which you found to be cute. most men you dated were well put together and serious, so meeting someone like him was a nice change.

his personality also stood out because of his age. he had to be at least 5 years older than you, if not more.

"need something, pretty?" he asked with a cocky smile. you hadn’t noticed him coming up to you from where he was before.

you looked at him confused, unable to formulate words.

his smile turned more hostile when he noticed your state. "you were eyeing me pretty much the whole night, so i was just wondering if you needed something from me." he made sure to throw in a ‘from me’ full of intention.

after that you hooked up to say the least, but that wasn’t the end of it. he made sure to give you his phone number and from there, at some point, you started dating.

shortly after you two were exclusive, satorus personality changed more and more. you already knew that he wasn’t the most mature person, but i’m talking he full on became a child. he started being super clingy and whiny, like for example, he wouldn’t let you leave the bed in the morning to go to work. you were focused on school or work and weren’t paying much attention to him? god he’d never let you forget that.

"satoru, i’m busy. i need to study for finals next week." you said complaining.

you were currently sat at your desk trying to make notes and study, but your boyfriend had other plans. he grabbed your chair, which had wheels, and pulled it towards him, away from the desk.

"but baby," he started in a whiny voice. "i just came back from hours of hard work. i need you, i missed you." that last part coming out flirty rather than whiny.

you tried grabbing the table and pushing yourself forward it with you feet, but that didn’t exactly work. "no satoru, leave me alone." you said with a serious tone.

gojo audibly gasped. "leave you alone?" he asked shocked. he went on to grab the top of your chair pulling it down causing the chair to fall back. before you could react you were already scooped up by two strong arms.

"satoru!" you squealed as he carried you to the bed. you tried to break free by pushing yourself off him, but you failed miserably.

"you can’t just say stuff like that, it hurts my feelings." he mumbled, pouting yet again. he dropped you on the bed caging you in by placing his arms to your sides, one holding your waist and the other holding him self up.

he leaned down trying to give you a peck, which you declined, turning your face to the side. "this is unacceptable," he leaned back, now straddling your hips. he let go of your waist shifting all his weight so you couldn’t get up.

"toru!" you whined. at this point you didn’t even try to push him off, it was pointless, and you knew that.

"one kiss," he said, holding up one finger. "one kiss and i promise i’ll let you study, i’ll even help you."

you complied, but of course he didn’t let you go after one kiss.

scenario two.

satoru was your older brothers best friend. naturally you had a crush on him growing up, after all you were a little girl and they were practically grown up.

he obviously never paid you much mind, you were just his best friends little sister. how ever, this changed when you where in you late teens and he was in his mid twenties. he would every now and then come over, maybe for christmas or other festivities, and when he saw you he would tell you how grown up you were.

he knew it was wrong to look at you the way he did, not only because of your age but because you basically grew up together. but he couldn’t help but feel the way he did, he wanted you all for himself.

every year he would ask you about your dating life. he’d feel proud every time you said you still hadn’t found anyone, but that one year you said you were going out with someone and getting to know him, man he lost it.

you were 20 and he was 27. your brother had come home for thanksgiving and of course gojo had to come with.

"i’ve been going out with him for a while, i think things might get serious soon." you said smiling to yourself.

you and satoru were sitting in front of the fire place after everyone had already gone to sleep.

"really?" he asked, masking his jealousy. "are you sure he’s not playing you? wouldn’t want to hear about how you got your heart broken.".

somehow he convinced you that that boy wasn’t right for you, that he would just use you and then leave you. after that he showed you how a pretty girl like you should be treated. he took you out on dates and spoiled you like the princess you were, you in return gave him what he craved most since your coming of age.

you had been dating for a couple of years now and he was still as possessive and manipulative as ever.

an old friend, that recognized you, came to say hi out in public? satoru is bending you over his lap later that night ‘to teach you a lesson’. you’re at a business gathering with your boyfriend and some guy started flirting with you while your man wasn’t around? satoru would make sure you know he’s mad.

"toru? what’s wrong?" you asked, placing a hand around his neck, slightly stroking his undercut.

satoru hadn’t uttered a word to you ever since he came back after leaving you for a while. you had suspected that he saw fushiguro trying to hit on you, but you made sure to reject all his advances. so why was he mad?

"nothing." he sighed, arms crossed as he sat at the table looking at nothing. "maybe you should ask fushiguro what’s wrong with him, he keeps looking over at you. i wonder why." he mumbled that last part.

you looked to your left across the table, to where toji was sat, and caught him looking at you before he quickly looked away. "he was talking to me earlier, but i told him about you."

"mhm." he nodded, but still didn’t seem pleased.

this was the down part to your relationship, you were so happy with satoru but whenever he acted like this you had to hold back from exploding and saying something you’d regret.

you decided, like always, to stay quiet and not talk about it until you were alone with him.

the rest of the night went by painfully slow. satoru had a hand glued to your waist, holding you close. ether he wasn’t as mad as he seemed or he just wanted to make sure everyone saw that you were together, you had yet to find out.

when you got home you sighed sitting down on a stool you had in your entrance, you were exhausted. satoru crouched down in front of you, helping you take off your heels. you closed your eyes letting yourself relax for the first time this night, though your moment of peace was interrupted by harsh hands yanking you up.

"hey, that hurt." you hissed as he led you to your shared bedroom. "what is up with you anyway?".

"oh, what’s up with me?! you’ve been walking around all innocent, pretending none of those men there were looking at you like they wanted to fuck you." he spat. "i’m sure you liked the attention, didn’t you?" he said, practically throwing you on the bed.

you look at him dumbfounded. it’s not like your were surprised by his way of thinking or his words, after all this wasn’t his first time acting like this.

"think i should teach you a lesson, hm?" he crawled on the bed, getting on top of you.

"it wasn’t my fa—".

"shh," he immediately jumped in, not wanting to hear your excuse. "i don’t want to hear a lame ass excuse, you should know better." he sat up, grabbing your hand and lifting you along with him. "i want you to make it up to me. after all, that’s the least you could do after making me feel like that." his tone was very manipulative, which you never really acknowledged.

safe to say you complied and did everything the way he wanted to, like always.

(if anyone saw any typos, no you didn’t <3)

[sooinbloom]

Bookstore Kisses

pairing: kyungsoo x you

genre: established relationship, married couple, fluff

word count: 1,804

description: wednesday night is date night for you and kyungsoo. tonight, after you beg him to venture into a bookstore, he decides to show you his affection in a way he never has before.

author’s note: hi! this is just a random idea I got while in a bookstore a few months ago. I found it hanging around in my drafts and decided to publish it. also, the photo above inspired the rest… the man looks so good in a cap and glasses. what can I say?! i’m trying out a new writing style, so I hope you enjoy it. sorry, this isnt edited lol (:

- Aria

“Hey, love.” Kyungsoo says as he shuffles into the room, leaving a kiss on my forehead. “How was your day?”

“It was good, a lot of meetings but I’m very happy the day is over. How was your day?” I ask, looking up at my husband.

“Same stuff, different day. I had to tear Baekhyun away from our boss again. Something about the London account again.” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and loosens his tie, “at least today is my favorite day of the week.”

“Date night!” I nod excitedly.

“Yes, baby. How about we go see a movie? We can see that one you’ve been telling me about… The cheesy romcom that you won’t shut up about with your friends?”

“Hey! Hey! Do I call your movies cheesy?” I poke Kyungsoo’s chest as he chuckles to himself.

“No, because I have actual taste.”

“Wooooow this is how you want to start date night? I see how it is!” We laugh together, one thing we never agreed on is our movie tastes. Sometimes we just enjoy the banter, other times it gets serious and hours long debates ensue over which franchise was better or which classic film was better than the other. Tonight was a bantering kind of night.

 “Oh, baby, you’re lucky I’m tired tonight. Let’s go watch the movie and then grab some dinner afterward at the Thai place we like?”

“Sounds like a plan! Let me get ready.” I get up from my chair and walk over to my closet, trying to find a cute, yet practical outfit.

Wednesday nights became my favorite night of the week. We regarded Wednesday nights as almost sacred because it was the only day of the week that we weren’t exhausted from our bleak, demanding corporate jobs. The day of the week where phone gets tucked away and the only communication we have is with each other.

Fridays were too busy for Kyungsoo, given he’s now an executive as his firm. Mondays and Tuesdays were my long days because no one can get their shit together in my office at the beginning of the week. Thursdays just weren’t good for either of us because one of us ended up working overtime and weekends were reserved for decompressing, binge watching TV and much needed naps from being exhausted throughout the week.

Wednesday became special. Wednesday became ours.

After deciding on a casual outfit, I get dressed and meet my husband in the living room as he checks showtimes on his phone. I smile to myself, he’s looking rather comfy in his joggers, hoodie and sneakers, in all black of course. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and grabs his All England Techno Club cap, standing and looking in my direction.

“Beautiful.” He manages between his smile, “ready?”

“Let’s go!” I take his hand and grab my purse from the hook by the door. It’s amazing how to this day, every Wednesday feels like our first date.

Kyungsoo cried during the movie.

I didn’t say a word, but I’ll definitely keep this in my back pocket for a more convenient time. We talked about the plot over the best Thai food in town, the same place we’ve gone since we started dating. Years have past and the owners still remember our really awkward first date. Sitting in the restaurant made me smile, all of the memories that were contained in this place, it’s special.

Once we’re done eating, we start strolling downtown, hand in hand. A certain building captures my attention and I stop walking.

“Oooo! Let’s go in the bookstore!”

“Mmmm.” Kyungsoo whines. I stop and turn to face him, pouting my lip.

“Please, please, please?” I beg.

“Okay, love, let’s go.”

“Yes!” I giddily reply.

“How lucky you are that I can’t say no to you, love.” Kyungsoo mutters in my ear as we enter the store.

I walk through the fiction section and glance across the aisle to the culinary section. My heart melted seeing my adorable husband in his cap and glasses reading an Italian cookbook. He never understood why I called him cute, but this is exactly why. His small pout as he studied the contents of the book and flipped the pages excitedly. His silver ring caught the light just so, little moments like this remind me why I married him. He’s my calm, my center of gravity, my home. I turn and pick a book up from the shelf, reading the summary on the back.

“Anything interest you, babe?” Kyungsoo appears next to me. I grin happily and nod my head.

“It’s a novel I’ve been wanting for awhile. O Beautiful by Jung Yun.” Kyungsoo opens his hands and motions his fingers toward me. I slide the book in his hand and he places it at his side. Kyungsoo takes my hand and laces our fingers together, staring intently at the shelf in front of us. He turns toward me and nods, returning his gaze to the shelf. He’d been working hard and his way of spoiling me was buying me books. He never allowed me to protest or say no. He’d just grab the book, keep it at his side and not allow me to argue that he was buying it for me. His wide eyes scan the shelves, not once did he seem remotely interested in a novel.

“Anything interest you?” I ask.

“Not one thing.” We chuckle softly and Kyungsoo pulls me to the corner of the book section. His shy gaze meets mine and he covers our faces with the book, brushing his lips on mine.

“What was that for?” I blush.

“Do I need a reason to kiss you?” He smirks. This isn’t like Kyungsoo, he’s not the kind of guy that likes PDA. Just the thought of getting caught doing something more than holding hands in public deterred him. We walked the shelves full of colorful book spines, venturing to the mid section of the store where the biographies sat. A David Sedaris novel I read in university sticks out to me. Kyungsoo tilts his head with squinted eyes. “Me Talk Pretty One Day? That doesn’t make sense.”

I giggle to myself and skim through the pages, “That’s the point, the author had a speech impediment and these essays are from his experiences going to speech therapy; and what life was like when he was a child. It truly is hilarious. Sad, but hilarious.”

Kyungsoo shakes his head and shoots me a playful look as he disappears in the romance section. I put the book back and shuffle after him, in his hands the novel Twisted Games by Ana Huang. He skims the pages quickly and eyes me carefully.

Oh no.

He’s on chapter 36.

The spiciest chapter in the whole book.

His cheeks bloom a soft pink, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“I understand why you were so flushed when I saw reading this.” He mutters. “Is this what you want?”

“H-Huh?”

“This book. Is this what you want?” Kyungsoo asks lowly.

“I own this book, Soo.” I reply carefully. He walks behind me and brings his arms around me, the book in front of me. His finger points out a sentence that makes me embarrassed to know that he saw with his own eyes.

“That wasn’t what I’m asking. Do you want what’s in this book?” Oh, boy. I fumble over my words and try to answer in the most in-public appropriate way. Kyungsoo closes the book with a laugh and hugs me close as he places it back on the shelf. “You’re so cute, Jagi.”

I turn and push his shoulder. “Kyungsoo! How is embarrassing your wife in public funny! You…” He pulls me in for a kiss with his laugh still trailing on his lips. We’re tucked away in a corner, only the books on the shelves can see what we’re doing. Kyungsoo proudly steps back and leaves a kiss on my cheek.

“You’re so cruel, Mrs. Doh. Hitting your poor, hardworking, defenseless husband like that.”

I shake my head and allow Kyungsoo to lead me upstairs to the travel section. He busies himself with a book on European travel, occasionally gazing up at me. A book on Korea caught my attention and I thumb through the pages of beautiful scenery, places Kyungsoo had told me about so often. Our jobs both had us leave our beloved countries in favor of job promotions, but The US never felt like home for either of us.

“Soo?” I whisper. His curious eyes always get bigger at the sound of his name being called, standing at full attention. I show him the pages of Seoul and his whole face lights up. “I think we should save to go to Korea. You’ve been missing home, and your mom has been begging us for months now.”

“Really? You want to go to Korea?”

“Of course, baby. It’s where you’re from. It’s part of who you are. Plus, my Korean could use some work.”

“Let’s do it, we’ll go in the spring. It will be nice to show you where I’m from.” Kyungsoo closes his book and kisses my free hand. “Every day you remind me why I’m so happy to be married to you. Even after all this time.”

“I still have no idea why you wanted to marry me.” I chuckle as Kyungsoo takes the book, holds it in front of our faces and leaves a few gentle kisses on my cheeks, nose and lips.

“Because you are like your favorite books. Beautiful on the outside, intriguing and intricately gorgeous with passion between each line. You keep my attention. You soothe me. You make me smile at the end of every day. That’s a big deal.” He softly replies, leaving a needy kiss on my lips. “You make me do things I would’ve never done with anyone else.”

“Like kissing me in corners of a bookstore?” I smirk. Kyungsoo nods and presses himself against the wall, his arms pulling me against his chest.

“Yes. Like kissing you in corners of a bookstore.” Once I feel the temperature heat up between us, I snatch the novel he’s holding from his hands and grab his hand to drag him toward the checkout counter. “Babe! Slow down!”

“After you said all that? No way. Buy me this novel and let’s go home. We have… Things to do.” I stumble through my sentence and narrow my eyes at my hysterical husband. “What?!”

“Nothing. I just love you. And all of the things we need to do.” Kyungsoo emphasizes “things” and takes his wallet out of his pocket. He purchases the book and we dart out of the store, laughing together. The workers must think we’re crazy, but we don’t care.

Wednesdays are our nights.

[homura]

drop the back posture routine 👀

i incorporate a mix of a few of these back and core exercises when i exercise to train those muscles to better support my upper body. people with poor posture tend to have very underdeveloped back & core muscles. some of these require equipment and some do not

BACK: rows, lat pulldowns, floor angels, swimmers, dumbell pullovers

CORE: planks, russian twists, shoulder taps, twisted ball lifts, bicycles, crunches, weighted side bends

i work out about 4-5x a week and do at least SOME core every time but i don’t do back every time, i’ll do back stuff only about twice a week. you definitely do not have to work out this frequently to achieve results. doing just a couple of the above exercises a couple times a week + posture stretches is also sufficient but consistency is the ultimate key

after every training session i’ll do a posture stretch before i move to the treadmill so i can spend my cardio time practicing walking upright/correctly

the stretch i like to do the most is:

1. stand completely flat against the wall, including your shoulders

2. walk your feet out about a foot from the wall so only the back of your head is touching the wall. if you have poor posture your arms will usually start off wanting to rest in front of you/on your thighs

3. set a timer for one minute and focus on letting your shoulders and arms hang back more perpendicularly to the wall/fingers pointing to the floor instead of resting them on your thighs or having them pushed too far forward (you should feel the stretch in your neck and shoulder blades as the minute goes on)

4. when the time is up, DO NOT pop off of the wall. slowly walk your feet back to stand in starting position with your heels and shoulders back against the wall. slowly walk off the wall with your back straight, head held high, and shoulders back. the first time i did this stretch it felt soooo good and the difference was obvious

5. you can repeat up to 3x throughout the day. but i honestly only do this 2x a day on workout days

there are also other posture exercises out there that will achieve a similar effect/result. the key is finding one or two that’s easy to set up and that you LIKE to do so you’ll WANT to do it. consistency and habit-building are paramount. try out a bunch of stuff til you find something that clicks and don’t be afraid to switch things up if you start to get bored!

[catsnkooks]

fulminis instar || ch. 2

Darth Maul x (fem) reader

summary: “and if the devil were to see you, he would kiss your eyes and repent” - farouq gouida

wordcount: 2.5k

rating: e, 18+

tags: smut, monster/alienfucking, unprotected PIV sex, lil bit of sexy chasing, misuse of the Force, pet names, mentions of collaring at the end

a/n: heyyyyy i haven't updated this in foreverrrrr but its here! warning: i wrote this in like...3 hrs and its not edited but whatever enjoy!

tagging some people that might enjoy: @a-dorin @justalittletomato @ironmandeficiency let me know if you want to be tagged in stuff!!

previous chapter || next chapter

here it is on ao3!

You sighed as kisses peppered your face, waking you slowly from your slumber. You blinked your eyes open, smiling as you focused on the red and black figure in front of you.

“Good morning, my starlight,” Maul murmured, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. “I trust you slept well?”

You nodded, yawning and stretching.

“I'm sorry I won’t be able to join you today, as I will be busy with meetings all day,” he said, his tone mournful.

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Oh, Maul, there’s nothing to apologize for. I understand.” His master had been keeping him terribly busy for the past week. You pressed another sweet kiss to his lips.

Maul sighed and buried his face in your neck. “One day, I will spend all of my time with you, devoting each second to your happiness.”

You giggled at his promise, but pushed him away before he could get more distracted. “Go! You’ll be late for your meeting!” He finally left your room after you gave him yet another kiss.

You yawned again as you stood up, ringing for your ladies-in-waiting. You figured you would start your day since Maul had awoken you. Your maids soon appeared, and you exited your bed, going to the attached refresher where one of your maids was drawing you a morning bath. You sank gratefully into the steaming water, sighing with delight, willing the aches of your night with your husband would fade.

Once you had enough of your bath, you dried yourself off, wrapped yourself in a fluffy robe, and made your way back to your bedchambers. Your other ladies-in-waiting had pulled a few outfits for you to try on for the day. You mostly stuck to vibrant reds and crimsons, better to match your husband with, and decided on a deep crimson gown for the day.

The only problems with your wardrobe were the fact that Maul preferred you dressed in deep necklines, leaving your neck and most of your bust bare. This wasn’t a problem if it was just yourself and your husband in the room, but you often entertained various important guests throughout the day while Maul was in his meetings. And it was even worse when he left evidence of himself on you for everyone to see.

You pursed your lips in annoyance as you glared at the dark mark Maul had left on your neck the night before, despite your warning to leave it somewhere hidden. There was no way for you to hide it. You could see your main lady-in-waiting, a severe older woman, looking at you through the mirror with displeasure.

“You need to tell Lord Maul to design you some gowns that cover you,” she said. “And perhaps lay off the fondling.”

You groaned. “I’m trying! He takes a lot of persuasion!”

She sniffed while one of the younger ladies-in-waiting giggled behind you, no doubt going to gossip later about how well Maul ‘treats’ you. You just sighed and resigned yourself to carrying around the mark on your neck for the day.

---

“Ser Jaute is here to see you, my lady.”

You looked up from your datapad as the servant announced that your father’s advisor had arrived. “Oh, wonderful, I’ll be right out.” You stood, setting your pad to the side, and walked out of the sitting room to the main hall where you knew the guards would have kept him.

And that was exactly where you found him, surrounded by a mix of Imperial Clone Troopers and Dathomirian Nightbrothers. Maul had both forces since he ruled over Dathomir as well as being part of the Imperial Inner Circle. They were quite protective over you, no doubt part of their orders from Maul, and refused to have any outside visitors farther than the main hall.

“Ser Jaute,” you greeted, a warm smile on your face as you made your way to him. “It is good to see you.”

Ser Ber Jaute inclined his head to you. “It is good to see you as well, my lady.” You had known him since you were a little girl, as he’d always been part of your father’s council. He was a nice man, though he could be quiet sometimes, but always willing to do the best for his people.

You gave him a slight embrace when you reached him, bussing his cheeks. “What brings you here today?”

“Ah, I wish to speak with your husband on an urgent matter,” he said.

“Oh, well, I’m terribly sorry but he’s currently in another meeting,” you said, stepping away from him.

Ser Jaute wrung his hands, eyes never meeting yours, but constantly bouncing all around the room. “Ah, well, it’s very imperative that I speak with him about this. Do you think you could pull him away?”

You tilted your head, slightly confused about his mannerisms, but acquiesced to his request. “Very well. Give me just a moment, Ser Jaute.”

The guards formed another circle around him as you left, making your way to the meeting room you knew your husband would be in. The door slid open silently when you pressed the button to enter, but you could feel Maul’s eyes on you instantly when you entered the room. He flicked his hand for the various other dignitaries to continue talking while you walked over to him, your heels clicking on the smooth floor. You sidled yourself into his embrace, pressing your ear against his chest, listening to his dual heartbeats. You could feel him press into your mind, cradling your presence in the Force, subduing all the sounds outside of the hold he had you in. You sighed, never feeling more at ease than when he held you like that.

Just a moment, my starlight, he murmured into your mind. One of his hands came up to caress your cheek while the other wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him.

A few minutes later, everyone had finished their say and all was silent. “If that is all,” Maul said, his voice reverberating around in your mind, “let us regroup later. You’re all dismissed.”

Everyone in the room bowed to him and quickly left, leaving the two of you alone. You lifted your head from his chest, smiling as he greeted you with a small kiss.

“What is it, my starlight?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry. It wasn’t often that you interrupted his meetings.

“Do you remember my father’s royal advisor, Ser Jaute?”

Maul snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yes, the small, quivering man that wouldn’t look me in my eyes. What does the mole serpent want?”

You clucked your tongue at him, lightly swatting his shoulder. “Don’t be mean! He says he has something very important to discuss with you.”

Maul hummed, leaning forward to give you a kiss in apology. “Very well. I shall hear him out.” He led you out of the room and back toward the main hall where Ser Jaute waited for him. He pressed another kiss to your lips when you parted from him, meaning to return to your pad in your sitting room. “I shall see you later, my starlight.”

You accepted his kiss and murmur with a smile, not wishing to leave him, but knowing he’ll be returning to your side later. Even apart, you could still feel him brushing against your mind wherever you were within the palace.

But strangely, the eyes you felt on you as you left didn’t feel like they came from Maul.

---

Ber Jaute watched the princess walk away, after having the intimate moment with her husband. He could hardly stand to look at her, not when he could see that monster’s mark upon her perfect skin, sullied already from her time away. He felt the rage build in him, but he forced himself to push it down, knowing that the Sith in front of him would be able to sense it, and then his plans would be foiled.

Even still, as the Sith turned to face him, he could feel the nervous sweat breaking out all over his body.

“Ser Jaute,” Lord Maul said simply, eyeing him with distrust. “Why have you come here today?”

He already knows, a scared voice inside his head whispered, but Jaute forced himself to steady his breathing and even out his feelings. “I deeply apologize, my lord, for interrupting your meeting, but there’s and urgent matter the king wishes to discuss with you. Unfortunately, he is feeling poorly and sent me in his stead. May we discuss this in some private place?”

The Sith stared at him for a long moment, and he had to resist the urge to squirm where he was standing. Then Lord Maul looked away and motioned for him to follow. “Very well, this way.”

Jaute couldn’t help the grin that came to his face.

His plan was moving along wonderfully.

---

You were sitting peacefully in the library, wandering among the many shelves of flimsibooks, when you felt a prodding at your mind. You knew it had to be Maul so you opened yourself up to him, a question apparent to him. It was met with another teasing prod, and then you could feel incorporeal hands all over your body, making you gasp.

Maul! you shouted in your mind, only to be met with an unrepentant chuckle. Not here!

He hummed, and you could feel the vibrations from it all throughout your body. Very well, my starlight. But I will be hunting you, understand? And if you do not make it to our chambers before I catch you…well, then I will just have you there.

You shivered at his teasing threat, your face heating as you imagined him taking you on the nearest surface of wherever he caught you. I understand.

Then the hunt is on, starlight.

After you caught your breath, you quickly slinked out of the library, hoping no one had seen you. You passed many guards on the way, your heart beating each time, wondering if one would be Maul in disguise, but they merely nodded at you, and you gave them a polite nod back. When you had reached about halfway to your chambers, the incorporeal hands returned, making you gasp in the middle of the hallway as they cupped your breasts and roamed between your thighs.

Cheater!

Maul gave you another unrepentant chuckle. I never said that I couldn’t make it harder for you, hm? But I will keep my hands away…for now.

You breathed out harshly as the hands disappeared again, practically running the rest of the way to your chambers. Your heart soared as you entered without being harassed, only for you to squeal as physical hands grabbed you, hoisting you over your husband’s shoulder.

“No fair!” you yelped. “You were waiting here for me!”

Maul laughed, throwing you down on the bed, and immediately covering you with his body. “You expect me to play fair when you tease me so? Wearing my marks so proudly on your skin?”

You pouted up at him. “I told you to leave them where they could be hidden! It’s not my fault!”

Maul growled, silencing your whining with a rough kiss. “I could hardly keep my eyes off of you, and neither could anyone else.” His mouth trailed down your neck and to your bust, leaving hot kisses and nips along the way. “Don’t they know you’re mine?”

You gasped as he nipped at the sensitive skin of your chest, pulling him back up to your lips. “I’m yours, Maul,” you murmured against his lips. “They all know.”

He growled again, devouring your mouth in a passionate kiss. You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, and holding on as he pushed you farther up on your bed, rucking up the hem of your dress to your waist. You gasped again as he pushed the seam of your underwear to the side, finding you already wet, and sinking two fingers into your hole.

“They’ll all know it soon,” he growled, swallowing your gasps and moans as he fingered you open. “By the time I’m done with you they’ll know.”

“Yes, yes!” you chanted, hips canting as he fingered you open to get as deep as possible. “Please, Maul, please!”

He groaned, burying his face in your neck, and you heard the unzip of his trousers, knowing he was fishing his cock out for you. “Your wish is my command, starlight.” Then he slowly pushed into you.

You savored every moment of his cock entering you, your mouth a small ‘o’ as each ridge popped into your cunt, until he was fully sheathed in you. You both groaned as you tightened around him, feeling so full of his cock that you never wanted him to leave you.

“Oh, my starlight,” Maul moaned into the crook of your neck. “You take me so well, my precious starlight, always meant for me.” And then he began to thrust, slowly moving his hips back and forth.

Your moans gradually became more high-pitched with each thrust of his hips. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the state of your dress forgotten, needing him to be closer to you. He bent his head farther down, enough to free a breast from the confines of your bust, eagerly taking your nipple into his mouth to nip and suck at, making you cry out and arch your back. His thrusts became more frenzied as the place where your bodies joined became more covered in your combined juices. And when his hand found you clit, you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Maul, please, please!” you begged, the heat low in your belly unable to grow any longer and about to burst.

Maul groaned at your pleading. “I cannot deny you anything, my starlight. Come for me.” Then he sealed your lips with his.

You cried out into his mouth as you came, legs and arms clenching down around him, holding him close as you rode out your release. He groaned into your mouth as well, hips stilling not long after your release, your cunt milking him through his own. The two of you panted as you came down, maul collapsing over top of you, pressing you into the mattress.

Maul panted into your breast after he collapsed, while you kissed the crown of horns on the top of his head, gently caressing the small nubs. You let him lay on you in a comfortable silence for a long moment, relishing in the afterglow of having him there on you before you tilted his head up so you could murmur into his ear.

“What if you got me a collar?” you murmured, tracing the black lines of his tattoo over his face. “Then they would know who I belong to, hm?”

Maul inhaled sharply and you felt his softening cock twitch inside you. He growled and turned his face to nip at you neck.

“I’ll have someone working on that for you soon, my starlight, do not worry about that.”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

chamomile, chapter two

A/N: the gif in the moodboard is by @ropoto

summary: it's gonna take a bit before Y/n gets used to cases such as this one... how can he just so casually say something like that? how can she not just turn into putty right then and there?

warnings: references to 6x04, mostly just being painfully in love

word count: 958

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This had been your third case, and you were starting to get the message that the plane ride home was never going to be as relaxing for you as it was for the rest of the team. They might have gotten a well-deserved moment to calm down and process what had just happened, but you didn’t. You didn’t get a break just because one case closed, it only meant you had to make the difficult decision again as to where the jet would fly to next.

You were sitting alone on the opposite side of the jet from where the rest were clumped together. You needed the peace and quiet to look over and concentrate on these horrific files sprawled out in front of you. But even so, your mind couldn’t help but wander back to the events that had occurred back in Ohio over the last few days. Or rather, the subject matter that had been in play and more specifically the sentences that had escaped the doctor’s lips, ones you couldn’t stop replaying. 

The cases often had a sexual motive, that much you knew, but this one was different. 

None of the others seemed faced by hearing Reid so casually and almost clinically talk about erotic themes. Not that they didn’t talk about that stuff when it was relevant to the case, they did, it just didn’t have the same effect on you. Guess you just had to learn to not let your primal brain go off whenever you heard him talk like that. You certainly hadn’t learned it yet, because you were now sitting here and finding it almost impossible to make sense of any of the words on the important files in front of you. 

“Hey,” a voice ripped you away from your reading and made you look up. It was in fact the very man that wouldn’t leave your thoughts alone standing there, leaning against the seat opposite yours. “A few of us are about to play some poker and I just wanted to see if you would like to join?”

You felt your heart begin to race as his voice found your ears.  

“Um, what?” you blinked for a second, trying not to let your mind wander.

“I asked if you wanted to play some poker,” he repeated. 

“Oh, no thank you,” you quickly looked down at the papers again, trying your best to ignore the way your whole body tingled. 

Narrowing his eyes, he quickly glanced over his shoulder and then slid into the seat opposite you. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, actually sounding genuine.

“Mhm,” you nodded, trying not to make eye contact with him.

“I know that you haven’t been a part of this team for long,” he pushed his dark plum-coloured sleeves back up so that his forearms now were on full display, “but you know that I’m always here if you wanna talk, right?”

Taking a deliberate deep breath, your eyes couldn’t help but flicker over his skin, not like you hadn’t already in this short time become familiar with the beautiful sight, but you just couldn’t help it. “That’s very kind of you, thanks. And you know, if you wanna talk about anything I’m here. I have a BA in psychology, so the advice I can give might not be complete bull shit.”

“I’ll remember that,” the corners of his lips twitched, “and just so that you know, I have a BA in psychology as well, so my advice might not be, um, bull shit either.”

“Oh, right, sorry, you have so many degrees I didn’t remember…”

“No, it’s fine, I wouldn’t expect you to know that.”

Letting your eyes come to rest on his face, you couldn’t help but still hear all of the things he had uttered throughout the week inside your head. Without even really realizing it, you whispered, “do you really believe what you said?”

“What, that I don’t expect you to know things about me?”

“No, that thing you said earlier tonight.”

“I tend to say a lot of things if you haven’t already noticed,” he let out a small breathy chuckle. 

“Before you went to interview Mrs Thomas, in the hallway, you said that because you’re not like Rossi or Morgan that you’re not a threat. Do you really believe that?”

“I mean, yeah. Guys like me aren’t exactly intimidating.”

“You think that you have to yell at people in order to be intimidating? In order to be considered a threat?” you leaned back in your chair and stared at him in awe, “Reid, Doctor Reid, I don’t know how to tell you this, but trust me, you’re intimidating, and not just because you’re a doctor and a genius, I mean, have you ever even looked in a mirror? Girls must go mad for you.” 

He let out a stunned, breathy laugh, “uh, no… I, um, they don’t…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you blushed, wishing so hard right now that you were a turtle so that you could just hide in your shell, “that was inappropriate of me to just blurt out.”

“It’s fine.”

Tugging your hair behind both your ears, you nodded, staring at him, the paperwork completely forgotten. Thank god you had your own office back in Quantico because if your desk was next to his, you wouldn’t get any work done. 

“Okay, I’ll stop bothering you now, let you get back to reading about,” glancing down at the files for only a millisecond, “whatever is happening in the Midwest,” then got out of the seat, leaving you to your own accord once more.

“Right, and good luck to you, with the poker, hope you win.”

Looking back over his shoulder, he smirked, “oh, don’t worry, I always win.”

next chapter

© 2022 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[eglectic]

December 23 — New Moon

Current weight: 190.8

I’m happy with this weight honestly. 😌🤷🏼‍♀️

Friday, December 23:

Cold brew

Fruit & nut bowl, with extra pistachios after

Cold brew

Dinner — a bunch of stuff: 5-6 deviled eggs, chocolate hummus with veggies, brussel sprouts, vegetarian meatballs, gluten free biscuits, mashed potatoes, some challah bread with homemade dipping sauce, 2 chocolate chip cookies, a carrot cupcake, 4 double chocolate cookies, dairy free egg nog; and whatever else I missed writing down (most of it pictured below)

I overate on the pistachios but didn’t eat the whole bag. And I also way overate on dinner, but I don’t feel bad about it emotionally. I definitely ate until I was so stuffed that I got nauseous, to the point where I really thought I might just throw up. I think I’ll fast tomorrow until my work dinner and just enjoy it and try to be conscious throughout the night. During my journaling session I’ll fill out the “write it down and move on” worksheet, which is intended to help us process and learn from the times we overeat. I’ll probably write my answers here, since the focus of this blog is sharing my journey. If I find the worksheet for anticipating events and I have time, I’ll fill that out too and share here. Honestly, I’m not even close to feeling guilty or ashamed of how I ate today. My main thought is “I’m learning from this” and “these are the types of habits and thoughts I get to re-wire in my brain” by using this process, because they are. My 170lb self isn’t worried about one day or even one week of overeating and she would never be hard on herself about this.

I was feeling kind of tired most of the day today. I feel like I’ve been going and going kind of a lot. I pick up extra shifts most weeks, I work out 2 hours most days, and I hang out with friends multiple times a week, I clean my living space and do personal administrative stuff, and I post a lot of content online lately. Even on my downtime day this week I spent that relaxation time editing videos, which is low energy physically, but it’s still work. I edited my schedule for tomorrow already to incorporate more relaxation and possibly more sleep if I need it. Making content has been feeling like a true part time job recently with all the vlogs but I do 100% enjoy it, especially since I’ve entered a phase where I’m getting sent free stuff and getting paid for views on my videos from TikTok & Instagram. It’s a cool honor, I genuinely appreciate it, and I want to keep growing it. At the same time, I find that taking care of my body as I do that is crucial. I’m already thinking maybe Sunday I’ll do a super light cardio day where I just walk for 45-60 minutes instead of try to go hard and push myself. Anyway, I’m super sleepy so see ya tomorrow!

[jaidonschool]

Creative Momentum & Dissipation

This blahblah just says 2 things:

Don’t look for inspiration and neglect your voice.

Try the “overflow” strategy of riding natural serendipities.

Momentum

When Saturday hits, I am full of creative momentum. I love my job. I get to constantly learn and creating new things. But when Saturday hits, there is no client. No pressure pushing me toward any specific end. No pressure to finish and market.

I spend the day unleashing my curiosity. I scroll twitter, pinterest, blogs, midjourney, listen to music, read books and blogs. I get inspired, get focused, get unfocused. I take notes and research, sketch and share ideas. I learn coding, design, history, philosophy, and occasionally foreign languages. I create, tweak, iterate, edit, post. I explore and tinker until I am overcome by directionlessness.

I’m suspicious how productive this wandering is. Only when I have work to do, is looking out the window so much fun. I suspect this behavior is a response to discipline-fatigue. The restraint and focus I uphold throughout the week leads me to desire “wandering free”. It’s feels kinda deluded!

Some of my energy comes from seeing the fruits of my labor. With no focus, fruits don’t grow, and I loose energy. At worst, this becomes death-by-sitting-on-the-couch. Clients and starvation drive me!

Other times, I am energized by play. Creative momentum bubbles up and overflows. I get random ideas and excitement to do them! This source of energy is not reliable. It mostly occurs when I finish a stressful project, and am amped up.

On Saturday, I have a mix of these two energies. It feels wonderful! That is, until it dissipates into mild variants of death-by-sitting-on-the-couch.

Looking for Direction

I look for inspiration online. But the networks that serve me content are bias: The winning contents feel commercial. The creators who are prolific, who put in a lot of energy, do it connected with money.

Art museums, maybe most of all, are an expression of a market niche. Big white walls. Empty rooms. Fancy, historical vibes. People behave like they’re in a church. Quiet, whispering, gazing with reverence at mystic objects put on pedestals. It feels gross! These things make me feel even more lost.

I notice what gets attention online. I notice posts that are easily consumable, algorithmically optimized, and following platform conventions. A lot of successful posts are genuinely interesting and heave heart too.

I also notice patterns in the visual and material culture that surrounds us offline. Looking around city streets, my living room, restaurants... it is strikingly apparent how much is created out of market forces: production, consumption, convention, and the ad agencies that pump this stuff out like a machine.

My head gets full of ideas about what is successful and why, what is cool and what isn’t. This doesn’t help me find any direction. It feels like I boil down creativity into a checklist formula, which proceeds to paralyze me.

Solution

This Saturday I feel I’ve gotten to the bottom of it. Many maps exist, some are useful. I’ll share multiple.

Genjokoan

Form is emptiness. Why am I so obsessed with form and creating in the first place? The world exists.

“To carry your self forward and illuminate the myriad things, the myriad dharmas, is delusion. That the myriad things come forth and illuminate themselves is awakening or enlightenment.” - Dogon

“However the most important point is not to think that you have to get rid of one and find the other... It is not that we should have some preference. ...To Genjokoan, to fully express our hearts, is to be present in all aspects of our life, to bring our life to life, to allow ourselves to express the world, to allow the world to express ourselves.

...To see delusion and enlightenment, that is easy. That can happen any time. But then to actually bring this fully into our life is the endless practice of just studying ourselves, just being there as ourselves.” - Taigen Leighton

Awareness

“’Awareness alone is curative’ - [Osho] any unhealthy behaviour, thoughts or emotions you have will autocorrect merely as a product of observation.” - Reddit

I have a lot to learn in this regard, but just like meditation practice, an honest approach is the best way to grow.

First Principals

By looking to others, and filling myself with ideas from the external world, I neglect my own voice.

Rick Rubin wrote a book called “The Creative Act”. I didn’t read it, but I heard somewhere that this book isn’t actually for creative people. That rang true to me! It feels like philosophizing is not the path to creating. From my experience it’s better to let the grand ideas emerge from getting my hands dirty and staying down to earth.

If I start to feel lost, here’s my current strat:

1. Make sure I actually decided on a goal. Even if it’s fuzzy. (Ex. I want to make a newspaper in kawaii style.)

2. Then, through time bound iterations, start making progress. (Ex. Spend 10 minutes sketching layout ideas. Spend 20 minutes making mood board.)

This way, I have a set direction, I take steps, and even though it’s never a smooth process, I don’t get lost.

3. When I get stuck, I need to make a decision. I write out the options I have, and choose. I keep this decision process short, because the best way to know which paths are dead ends is by walking.

Overflow

The best way to make others happy is when you have an overflow of happiness yourself. Then it just spills out onto them. Giving happiness to others can make you happy. Feed the cycle!

Creating stuff is a product of my insatiable creative energy. It overflows from me into forms. Creating stuff fuels my creative energy, feeding the cycle.

I should try this strategy for content creation. Just capture the serendipities, put into form, and keep giving them away. Physically, digitally, algorithmically, etc.

Break

I shouldn’t commit to any big project, because negative space is important to stay motivated. Breaks are good. You suffocate without them.

Concluding note: Feels like I've been on a lot of side quests lately, and I'm kinda sick of it all going nowhere. Gotta set my sights on bigger things.

[natestah]

I never knew in a million years that I would get to become a game developer.  I didn't see it back then.  There were ingredients that came together almost miraculously to jar me into action.

I was a kid working on something like my 3rd or 4th year of Burger King, I worked hard to afford myself a Gaming PC, one equipped with 3dfx graphics, Celeron 300a (I think mine overclocked all the way to 450!), and a good-sized monitor (19Inch Beast of a CRT) that I would lug to a local LAN party club. 

I was pretty good at working software. I gravitated towards programming and CAD/CAM classes in high school. The curriculum was generally too easy.  In a Basic programming class, I did my own thing and created a program that would bounce lines like the screensavers of that time would.  In another class I created animations using HyperCard transitions and entertained the whole class.

An AutoCAD teacher gave a File cabinet of work to do at your own pace. I finished the work in 2 weeks and used that class as my sleep class. (stayed up too late playing Quake). I nearly failed this class, the teacher wanted me to reach higher “You should be designing Rocket Ships, not sleeping”.  He allowed me to pass on the condition that I helped him draw up a plan for his friend at my Lunch Hour. I was strained on my credits, so this was critical for me to pass high school!  The circumstance of my low credits in high school was that I missed a year for bereavement so I couldn’t afford any missed credits. It was truly a difficult time.

Another teacher teaching CAM (Computer Aided Manufacturing?) did the same, working through all the curriculum in a short amount of time. Having nothing left to do, the question came up, What Do you want to do? There was a small opportunity there to leave my Kush job at Burger King to work at a Computer Case building plant drawing plans, but I did not get the job.

At my LAN party, a friend had a surprise announcement.  HE was doing LEVEL DESIGN Remotely for a company in the UK.  He showed me his Unreal demo that he used to apply for the contract, it was a pretty basic challenge to which I don't remember much of the details but surely, I could create a one room area and apply for myself.  I had an answer to the question my CAM Teacher had asked me.

This teacher heard my plan and allowed me to lug my own Personal Computer into the classroom to try and learn how to create Unreal Levels so that I could apply myself to this job. I was working right out of Highschool after I submitted my own demo.  A lush organic Cave that had water in it, and mosquito’s buzzing around.  A button down beneath the water opened the door above inside the cave to allow you to escape.

The contract I was on was paid per-level and the game was to be Unreal on the PSX. That’s PlayStation 1! I was zipping through “stages” and getting paid. How awesome! Unreal back then, was all about CSG operations.  There were a handful of primitive shapes you could use to carve out the world. Wanting more organic terrain with the limited number of polygons we had to work with I came up with a tricky method of creating terrain that didn’t just look like skewed boxes and primitive shapes carved out (this would rapidly increase the polycount).  I could the technique the “Blob Method”, this involved taking a 3-sided pyramid (all triangles) and duplicating it until I had a cube made of triangles, from there I would duplicate the cube and union it so I could get more triangles, then each vertex would be pushed out to create organic terrain.  This madness would persist throughout my career as a Level Designer.  I did things that nobody in their right mind would do.  Maybe I’ll talk more about that in future story time.

The project was ultimately cancelled, while disappointing it gave me a ton of real-world experience.  Recently I was approached about this for a “revival project”.  You can visit the moddb page here, it features some of my stuff, though I was unable to provide him with anything (there was much more stuff).  See here

[getmylife]

Update (Game Plan?)

Completed August 3, 2023

I am depressed. There’s no other way to say it, no point in beating around the bush. And depression has a way of interfering with productivity (LOL). July was A LOT. I did my tally of completed tasks this week and I think it was a total of almost 180, which is approximately half of what I do in an entire quarter. So yh, no wonder I’m burnt out.

But more than that, the past five years have been building up to this giant ball of “Why am I even here?” in my chest and it looks like the only way out will be through my mouth. So I’m going back to therapy. 

The past few months have made it abundantly clear that I’m not going to survive without some kind of intervention. I was hoping that moving would have been that intervention: cleaner air, more sunlight, my own space, safe ways to exercise. I mean it sounds like heaven.

But moving is taking a lot longer than expected. Money has been the major problem. And energy. Someone has to sort through and pack all of our stuff. Someone has to push for windows and doors and kitchen counters. I’ve tried to be that person but please refer to Sentence #1. I’m barely able to keep myself going at this point. How will I sustain an entire moving operation?

So moving might be a last quarter of the year situation. I’m praying for October, the 7th, to be exact. It’s a Thursday (woot woot) and all our major projects for the year should be done and dusted. We should have the bandwidth to pull off an entire move by then. I can’t wait ‘til October to feel better about life, so therapy it is.

I’m hoping I get some distinct diagnosis so I know what I’m working with. So I have an idea of where to start. 

I was talking to my mom today about medication and sharing that I think if I’m ever going to be a functional person again I’m going to have to try medication, but I don’t want to be on medication for the rest of my life. And she was like, you might have to be on it until your body can produce the hormones you need to function. Idk. I don’t want to taste normalcy and then have to give it up. I’m so afraid of messing up my body and mind further. I was like “it’s been ten years, why can’t my body figure itself out yet?”

But she reminded me that it’s been 10 years of going nonstop. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’ve been running so fast that I don’t even know which direction I’m moving in. I don’t know which way is up or down or forward or backwards.

So.

I’m thinking about making October a month of self-discovery. I really want to spend some time figuring out who I am and where I want to go. I think I’ve largely focused on the needs of the people around me and their expectations of me for the past ten years. I think it’s time to be a bit more conscious and deliberate about making this my life. About making it something I’m creating and not something that’s happening to me.

I think this month, and next month, God willing, I’ll spend some time putting together a list of activities I can try throughout October to get to know myself better. Once I figure out who I am and what I want, I think building the life and the routines that facilitate that will be easier. And then I can put things in place over the months to follow to hit the ground running (or walking, if I so decide) in January 2024, God willing.

For anyone else struggling, I hope you find a reason to hold on today. You got this! I believe in you!

[thetaleoflevi]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

First Impressions

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pairing: Levi x fem!reader

Content: Modern AU, College AU, NSFW

Content Warnings: 18+ smut, Levi’s an ass for five seconds, explicit language, make out, oral (f. receiving), marking, fingering, pet name (sweetheart), Levi is referred to as a confused puppy, stuff that I don’t know how to tag, 18+ smut x2

Word Count: 5k?

Description: Levi and you attend the same college and are in the same class. He’s known about you for a while but hasn’t had the guts to talk to you until you forget some of your personal belongings in class. You end up working together on a project and he takes care of both the assignment and you.

A/N: This has been in the drafts for soooooo long. I don’t know how I feel about it, but I’m just glad to put someone out for you again. Hope you enjoy! :)

⭐️Taglist: @urfilgoth @ackermandick

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Piercing eyes stick to your frame, following every move you make. What will you grab from your backpack? A pencil? A pen? It’s interesting enough to hold their attention and you’re very aware of the intense staring, but should you turn around to see if that’s the eery feeling? There’s no time to think about it when you’re already doing it.

You turn your head to the side, moving your eyeballs as far to the left as you comfortably can, to catch even the smallest sight of the person. You’re met with a man’s blank expression that heavily contradicts the way his chin rests on his palm in a sheer adoring way.

You quickly turn back to your normal position, trying to focus on your pending work with shaky hands.

You made eye contact with him, what did you think was going to happen if you knew you were being watched? He’s not ugly. Not at all. If looks could kill, your shaky hands are the equivalent of being grazed by his bullet.

“I’ll see you guys at six tomorrow. Have a nice rest of your day. Also, make sure to re-read chapter nine and ten of our reading. Don’t forget to take notes, you will be assigned partners for a presentation that you will all get a chance to present throughout next week,” Professor Smith announces.

Everyone groans but leaps out of their seat, shoving notebooks, pens, and pencils into their bags. You’re in no rush, so you take your time to neatly close your notebook and put it into your backpack.

Just as you take a step away from the desk, a voice gains your attention.

“Don’t leave things behind. Not everyone is as respectful of others’ belongings as I am.” A hand is extended towards you, holding your mechanical pencil with slender—surprisingly pretty hands.

A ‘thank you’ sounds like the right thing to say. Even a ‘thanks’ would do, but your mind knows you’ll fuck the whole thing up, so you simply nod. You raise your hand up to meet his, taking the pencil to put it in your pocket. You finally had a reason to bolt out of the lecture hall, and that’s exactly what you planned to do. You quickly put your backpack on and pushed your chair in, taking one more step away from the desk before being pulled back by force.

“Did I not just tell you to not leave things behind?” Your hood was in one of his hands, your phone in the other.

“Sorry,” you mumble quietly, looking at his hand that maintains a hold on your hood. He instantly lets go. He snickers at your expression. You look like you got called into the principal’s office for something you didn’t do.

“Fucking hell, you’re hopeless.”

The conversation took a random turn. You don’t even know the guy’s name, and yet you’re just about ready to go along with whatever he says.

“Okay,” you say, still frozen like a statue. You feel pathetic under his gaze.

He realizes there’s something wickedly attractive about how you just absorb the punches he throws at your dignity. He’s playing with you, and of course you’re too shy to ask him to stop.

“You’re a pushover. I hate it.” He puts a hand on the desk, eyeing the way your hands fidget in your pockets.

“I’m sorry. I get the feeling you don’t like me very much. Do you have anything else to criticize me about? Any longer and i’ll be late to work.”

“Then wh-“

“Hey, Levi and Y/N. What are you guys still doing here? Class is over,” Professor Smith interrupts.

“I was just packing my things. Levi, I believe you said his name was, rescued a few of my personal belongings.”

There’s an unnecessary roll in his eyes when he hears the word ‘rescued’.

“How kind of you. Were you guys planning on working together for the presentation? I have the sheet right here if you want to confirm your partnership.” He looks at you before looking at Levi.

You and Levi stare at each other for a few seconds, and you feel as if you can read his mind with just the way he glares at you. He doesn’t want to work with you. He already admitted to hating you, so why spend your precious time being a thorn in his side?

“No-”

“Yes, we’re going to work together,” Levi says just a little louder and faster than you.

“Perfect. My first pair. You guys will present next Monday. I’ll see you tomorrow.” A kind smile forms on the blonde man’s face and then he goes back to the front of the lecture hall.

You sigh, grabbing your things and exit the room. You plan every day so that things are done at a specific time. Going to work right after your final lecture is one of the easiest parts of your routine, but not today. You were hindered by someone who you felt disrespected by. A handsome face is worthless when it’s veiled by a shitty attitude, or so you think.

—

“What’s going on, Y/N? You seem more tired than usual,” Armin, the cafe sweetheart, asks you. He sees everyone’s pain, sadness, and sorrow. An angel that has walked the grounds of earth, is what you call him.

“I had to put a pep in my step to get here on time today. I got held up in Smith’s class today.” You rest your face on your palm, leaning on the countertop.

“Ah, I see. I think today will be pretty slow. We’ve had ten customers in the past hour and a half. You can take it easy.” He smiles, patting your back as you close your eyes for a second.

“If we randomly get packed today, it would be an honor to exhaust myself with you, angel.” You smile your brightest smile for him. He earned it.

—

You jinxed yourself.

The cafe had a line to the door and there were more people waiting outside. You cried internally every time groups of friends came in. They didn’t know what they wanted and they were indecisive about their choices. It pissed other customers off, and you had to apologize every time.

The line cleared, and you smiled at the sight of the door. You went to the backroom, ready to collapse on the random bean bag that’s been there since your first day. That thought is interrupted when the door jingles.

“Can you help the customer, please? I haven’t taken a break since I got here. I swear you can take your break or go straight home right after. You’ve done enough,” Armin says.

You can’t say no to him. He’s the only reason you haven’t broken down.

“No worries. I’ll take care of them. Enjoy your break.” You smile, and close the door behind you.

“Welcome. What can I get started for-“ you pause noticeably before continuing your script.

“What can I get started for you?” You sound less peppy, but still keep the formality.

“I’ll have a plain black tea. No additives, please.” He pulls his phone out. You recognize those pretty hands, unfortunately.

“Anything else for you today?” You ask, inputting his order in the register.

“What do you recommend?”

Your opinion? He wants to hear it? No way.

“The ham and cheese croissants are pretty good. We also have really good chocolate chip cookies.”

Too much fat. Too much sugar.

“I’ll take two of each, please.” He pulls his phone out again, ready to pay.

“That’ll be nine fifty-four.”

The card reader beeps and he pulls his phone away from the screen.

“Here’s your receipt. Your name will be called when your order is ready.” You make eye contact with him for the first time since you started taking his order, and a chill runs down your spine. Despite his eyes being a stormy grey, they radiated a warmth you didn’t recognize in anyone other than Armin. Your impression of him in class and your impression of him now gave you whiplash.

“Thank you.” He takes the receipt, and sits down at the table closest to the counter. You feel awkward making his drink and grabbing the rest of his order. Not only was he watching you, but he was also timing you. How good were you at your job, and how serious were you about it? Serious enough to panic over running a little late. There’s no trace of judgement in his mind, though. After all, be would act in a similar manner if he were in that same situation. The only difference is that he wouldn’t wait for the last word to be said. He would leave mid conversation if absolutely necessary.

“Levi,” You call, setting the cup of tea and the other items down on the counter.

He didn’t move. He looked somewhat lost in thought, staring at the machine the tea was brewed in.

“Levi?” You called once more. “Your order is ready.”

“Oh, sorry.” He finally stands, walking up to the counter to get his things. “What time are you off of work?” He asks.

“In about an hour or so. I have to help Armin close down shop.”

“Go home, Y/N! I got it!” Armin shouts from the backroom.

“Sounds like he doesn’t need your help,” he takes a sip of his tea, licking away the remnants of the hot liquid from his lips. It’s good, but he doesn’t need a discovery like this to create a new daily stop before class.

“Right,” you chuckle, turning around to switch all of the machines off. “I could use the rest of today off. I’m mentally and physically exhausted.”

You’re not weak. Not a bit.

“Need a ride home?”

You turn to face him again.

“Don’t you live on campus? I can’t make you drive half an hour like that. That’s just cruel.” You laugh.

“I don’t mind. We can start the project on the way.”

“Drive safe!” Armin shouts.

“Okay, Armin, I know when i’m not wanted!” You shout back. “A ride home would be very much appreciated. Give me a minute to change out of my work clothes and we can go.” You put up your index finger—one minute—then turn around and head for the backroom.

—

“Hungry?” Levi asks when he catches you eyeing one of the chocolate chip cookies in the bag.

“No, just zoning out,” you respond.

“Work really kicked your ass today, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but i’ll be okay. Just need to rest a little.” You lay against the door, your elbow propped up near the window to hold yourself up. You knew it wasn’t a good idea to “rest your eyes” in that position, and yet you did it anyway.

Levi didn’t have the heart to wake you up when he heard little snores coming from you. Earlier that day, he had started the project without you. He didn’t plan on making you do any of the work because, one: you didn’t want to work with him in the first place, he made you his partner, and two: you were tired as hell. Despite the project not being due for another four days, Levi had finished the rest of the project in his head, just as he pulled up to your driveway.

“Hey,” he taps your shoulder.

“Hmm… Oh, we’re here,” you mumble, sleep treading lightly on your voice. “Come on.” You unbuckle yourself and exit the car.

Levi follows you, clueless about why you’re letting him in. You’ve known him for what, a few hours max?

“I know I could’ve said this earlier in the car, but I was too tired to remember. I don’t understand why you would make me your partner for this project when you literally said you hate me. I didn’t forget that part, mainly because it hurt like a bitch to hear someone’s total judgement about me in the span of two minutes. Your reasoning is something else, and-“

“Stop talking.”

Your pushover tendencies silence you. There’s no need to take it to heart—the realization that he’s right about you. Just accept it and move on.

“You weren’t saying anything. You stood there for a good five seconds just staring at me in silence, and I thought you were giving me the choice, so I said fuck it. Didn’t know you would throw a tantrum over it.”

“You heard me start to say no and talked over me.”

“There’s no point in arguing about this. The project is finished. Let’s just go over it and memorize which parts we’ll say.”

He’s instantly annoyed at the way your eyes widen. That mind of yours was impressed by the simplest things. It’s frustrating, infuriating, and everything in between, but he can’t find it in himself to lash out on you when you look that amazed. It’s cute, it’s wholesome, and he refuses to see it as something malevolent.

“I worked on it as soon as I left class, and finished it on the drive here. As I said before, we just need to memorize what parts we’ll say.”

You were still stunned.

“Let’s get it done.” You say, sitting on the couch.

—

“…and then we finish it off by asking if they have any questions. Good?”

You interlock your fingers and stretch your arms upward. It was a grand relief for your tight muscles. As you lower your arms again, you respond to Levi’s pending question.

“Perfect. We should be ready to present on Monday. Send me the slides and i’ll practice my parts when I have time.”

“Okay.” He scoots closer, looking nervous all of a sudden.

“Are you okay? Am I holding you here for too long? I swear you’re not being held for ransom. You can leave whenever you-”

“I hate you so much.” Your cheeks are held in his soft, nimble hands. His thumbs press into the skin gently. “I hate how little you talk. I hate how you allow kindness to stomp on your true emotions. I hate that regardless of how much I hate you, I still want you.”

You’ve never been more confused in your life. No math equation, paragraph deconstruction, or riddle, has ever played tricks on your mind like Levi did. He just met you today, what’s gotten into him? He knows so much about you, even if this is the first day he’s ever spoken to you. Not in a creepy way, but in more of a ‘I’ll shit on your emotions, tell you I hate you, and fall in love with you from a distance’ way.

“I’ll ask again, are you okay?”

“I want to kiss you. Would that make you uncomfortable?” He says, knowing deep down that this whole scenario must be crazy on your end—completely unexpected.

“U-Um, you didn’t answer my question.” The lingering of his hands on your face has your heart beating out of your chest.

“I’m fine. Now answer mine.” He’s in no rush. Give him permission and he just might kiss you until your lips are swollen.

“Okay,” you say, quietly. His hands now feel cool against the bright blush on your cheeks.

His hands are shaking, he didn’t expect you to say yes, but he’s following through with it because he’s dreamed about this scenario for so long. You really are a pushover.

His lips brush against yours, experimentally. They move quickly out of inexperience, but soon find a comfortable pace. His hands stay cupping your cheeks, and you can feel wisps of his hair shifting against your nose.

You pull away, looking into his eyes. There’s the perfect amount of awkwardness as you sit on your knees, looking at him in awe. This whole situation happens once in a blue moon. You should get to experience the full thing, awkwardness and all.

“Your pupils are huge,” he points out, breaking the silence. His hand settled on his lap.

“And your hands are sweaty.” You shift your gaze away from him as if that changes the fact that you were mesmerized by how close he was just a few seconds ago.

“Got me there,” he wipes his hands on his pants, so that he can go back to pretending like he’s not nervous out of his mind. “I think that went pretty well. Should we do it again?”

“If you want to,” you say, your heart beginning to race again.

“I do. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to.”

“Oh, okay. Then I guess that would be fine.” You’re noticeably awkward, and it almost makes him laugh in your face, but the shakiness of your hands makes him want nothing more than for you to feel comfortable with him.

“Want to sit on my lap?”

Your eyes widen for a second, quickly switching your expression to seemingly unfazed.

“You won’t crush me, I promise.”

You look down at his lap, quickly looking back up at him when you realize it’s inappropriate to look in that direction.

“Okay.” You move one leg over his legs, shifting so that you can sit comfortably.

“Okay?” He asks, as he wraps your legs around his waist.

You nod, a smile on your face as you lean in to kiss his somewhat chapped lips. If this becomes a regular thing between you and Levi, you’ll take care of his lips. You’ll kiss them, trace them, and make sure he applies chapstick. You don’t mind sharing, and you always carry some in your bag, anyway.

His lips mesh with yours perfectly, but it feels desperate, like he’s been waiting months or years to taste your lips. You really want to ask him what his deal is, in the least aggressive way possible, of course. One minute he’s chewing you out, saying he hates how you’re easily influenced, the next he’s smacking lips with you. He’s so unpredictable.

“Hah—h-hold… hold on,” You breathe, pulling away, your hands landing on his chest.

“Hmm?” He tilts his head slightly, like a confused puppy.

“W-What…why, um…” you stutter, unsure of how to phrase your question.

“Slow down. We have time.” His hands move up and down your sides, slowly. “What is it?”

“Do you do this with every person you work on a project with?” Part of you is scared that he’ll say yes, part of you is scared that you’ll offend him.

“Of course I do.” He has a mastered poker face. You’ll know what he wants you to know, and believe everything he tells you because of it.

“Y-Yeah, I don’t know what to do with that information, so, i’m just gonna…” you lift yourself off of his lap, moving his hands off of you.

He’s quick to pull you back against his chest by the zipper of your jacket, staring into your soul with those incomparable eyes. A second goes by, and there’s a smirk on his lips. It says ‘you gullible thing, i’m messing with you’, but you’re too nervous in his hold to see that.

“You’re the first.” His thumb and index finger play with the the zipper, lowering it just the slightest bit before pulling it back up. “You caught my eye months ago, but I had no excuse to talk to you, so I waited.”

“You waited almost a year just to talk to me?” Your heart threatens to jump out of your chest. “That’s sick, Levi. I mean that in the most respectful way.”

You’re terrible at expressing yourself. If you were better with words, you would say something along the lines of, ‘I hope you’re content with what you waited for. Am I to your expectations? You fell for me months ago, and i’m not sure how long it took for you to do so, but i’ve known you for less than a day, and I’ve never been more conflicted about my feelings.’

“Are you okay with this? I know we’re moving really fast, but I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with what we’re doing. We spoke for the first time today, and now we’re kissing.”

“Do you want to stop?” Your question rings in your ears.

He doesn’t want to stop. This physical affection and attention is new, and it feels good. Why put an end to a good thing?

“No, do you?”

“No, not really.”

You stare at each other for exactly ten seconds before you go back to your make out.

So many questions rack your brain. Will it go further than kissing? Is this a one time thing? Will he ask you out tonight? Will he acknowledge you tomorrow or the day after?

Your cheeks feel slightly cooler than his. You open your eyes for two seconds, noticing two things in that time. One: his cheeks are reddening. He needs to breathe, but he won’t let you go. It’s evident in the way he pants every time his lips lock with yours. Two: his expression. His eyebrows are slightly pinched together, and he looks like he’s in total concentration. The anxiety he feels in his chest when he realizes he’ll never be able to kiss you hard enough, is shown in the grip he has on your jaw. He’s trying to be gentle—pain isn’t always romantic, but damn it, It’s an urgent matter. Kiss him like he’s your hero.

His fingers go back to playing with your jacket’s zipper. He pulls it down, and immediately pulls it up, until you surprise him by pulling it down all the way. Your jacket splits and reveals the white camisole you’re wearing underneath.

He can’t help but pull away on his own this time, to admire your form.

“Need to breathe?” You ask jokingly.

He sighs in amazement. “You continue to surprise me. I was having fun with that dumb piece of metal.”

“Mhm, so much fun,” you say sarcastically. “You could’ve just asked me to take it off, and I would have.”

“Can you take it off, please?” A light blush rises to his cheeks.

“Only because you said please.” You chuckle, throwing the jacket to the other side of the couch. “Better?”

“Fuck.” He sounds so desperate for you. Are his current thoughts prohibited from becoming a reality? Would you call him an animal for acting on the way you made him feel in that moment?

He holds your waist, digging his fingers into the flesh beneath your shirt gently. Goosebumps rise when his hands meet your skin, and you gasp when he pulls you close to kiss you all over again.

How you got into this situation has not been fully processed in your mind yet. It started out as a wholesome situation, but you’re shamefully turned on in this moment. Despite having the privilege to hop off of him at any time, you like that his hands feel like chains on your waist, like he won’t let you go. You like that he’s chasing after your kisses, and he likes how the feeling of your body against his clouds his mind in a comforting way.

You pull away for the third time, having made up your mind about how you want the night to go.

“Do you want to spend the night here, Levi?”

His heart pounds in his ears. He knows the way a gentleman would approach this situation is to decline and go home, but he really wants this. Can’t he do both? Be a gentleman and fulfill your needs?

He thinks it over for a few seconds, deciding to go with what he thinks is the safer choice.

“Only if you want me to.”

You grin. “Come on,” you say getting off of his lap and extending your arm for him to take it. He rises from the couch, following your lead.

“I can sleep on the couch if you-“ you interrupt him by pressing your lips to his, pinning him to the door and pushing so that it shuts. Not knowing how much of a control freak Levi was, you were surprised when he took the lead, and pushed you towards your bed, not breaking the kiss until he laid you down.

“Are we moving too fast?” You pant between kisses.

“No, not at all.” He says, pulling away to remove his shirt.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, watching his body be unveiled in pure amazement.

He sits on his knees, his shirt off of his head, but still around his arms.

“No, do you?” The slight disappointment on your face gives him the answer you had yet to say.

You mentally cursed yourself for being unprepared, but you didn’t blame yourself too much. Sexual activity was rare for you, so you didn’t keep a box of condoms around your apartment. You foolishly always relied on the person engaging in sexual activity with you to have the contraceptive, because you were on birth control. This was one of the times you wished you had been responsible for the safety.

You sigh, frustratedly. “What should we do?” You ask, seeing only some of his face with the sheer moonlight.

“We can’t have sex, that’s for sure.���

“Yeah. It’s okay. Let’s just watch TV or something.” You turn towards your nightstand, searching for the TV remote.

You open the drawer slightly before it’s quickly shut again by Levi. His shirt is off, and you can see the toned muscles of his abdomen, his chest, and his arms. He hovers over you for a second before leaning down to kiss you. The kiss seemed innocent, like he was kissing you goodnight, until he started trailing downward. He kissed your chest, even went so far as to lift your shirt so he could kiss your bare skin. He went lower, down your abdomen, until he reached the waistband of your sweatpants.

He took his time, he had no reason to be hasty. He rolled the waistband down a little, revealing more skin as well as the elastic band of your underwear. Every inch of skin that he revealed as he peeled your sweatpants off your legs came in contact with his lips, and it made your stomach swarm with butterflies.

“Are you comfortable with this?” He asks, hooking a finger into the elastic band of your underwear.

“Y-Yeah,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him.

“Lay back. I’ve got you.” He taps your stomach a few times so that you’re on your back again.

You tremble slightly beneath his gaze. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but he won’t make you feel more nervous than you already are by pointing it out.

“This isn’t your first sexual experience, is it?”

“No, why?”

You’re shaking, darling.

“First times should be special, is all.”

Your guts churn at the feeling of his hands running up and down your thighs.

“Would it turn you off if I told you this is the first time someone has gone down on me?” The question makes you want to shrink down to the size of an ant when it’s out in the atmosphere. There’s an uncomfortable silence between both of you. You’re worried he doesn’t want you anymore.

He lets out a short chuckle. You furrow your eyebrows, confused as to what’s so funny.

“No, it doesn’t turn me off,” he finally says, his lips brushing your inner thigh. “That just means I have to set the bar up so high that no man, no woman, no person, will ever be able to top it.” He looks up at you through his eyelashes, his lips sucking the plushy flesh of your thigh as he forms the first mark of the night. You can’t keep the eye contact without feeling your heart thrashing against your ribcage.

“Of course, only if you’ll allow me to.”

You sigh with a large amount of relief. His fingertips glide over the outer skin of your thighs, causing goosebumps to form over the soft skin. Something he notices in the time he takes to scan your body with his hands is that your hips are sensitive. Your stomach trembles a little when he brushes over the area.

“L-Levi,” you say breathily.

“Hips,” he mutters to himself, dragging his fingers across more of your body to try and find more of your sensitive areas.

You feel like you’re squirming. The concentrated attention is making your nervous, and you don’t know what to do with yourself.

You gasp when his hands run over your stomach and you feel the goosebumps begin to rise again. You hear a short hum from him before his fingers begin to slide from your stomach to your waist.

“Fuck, Levi,” you whisper, now actually squirming when he doesn’t stop.

“Stomach and waist,” he mutters to himself again. You know he’s making a mental list of your sensitive areas now.

He looked at your panties, visibly satisfied at the damp spot that littered the fabric.

“So wet from just a few touches. It’s cute, but I can do so much more for you.”

You blush furiously when he touches the wet spot, and you so badly want to scream. Your legs shut the tiniest amount but he immediately catches it and holds them open.

“Can I continue?” He asks, hooking a finger beneath the elastic band of your panties, then letting it snap against your skin.

You nod, a wordless response that does not roll with Levi.

“It’s yes or no, sweetheart. Your consent is the only thing that matters to me right now.”

“Yes, please, Levi,” you say sheepishly.

“You’re a goodie goodie, aren’t you?” He murmurs against your stomach, kissing below your navel.

“U-Um..” you buffer at the name, your cunt clenching at the feeling of his warm breath on your skin.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I love a woman with manners.” He rolls your panties down your legs slowly, staring into your soul while doing so. “You follow instructions so perfectly, and please and thank you is basically engraved into your vocabulary. What’s not to like?” He bends your knees to completely slide the garment off of your legs. You turn away when he notices how much of a mess you’ve made of yourself, which lures a short, deep chuckle from him.

He kisses your inner thighs looking up every few seconds to gauge your reaction to what he does. “Will you let me taste you?” He murmurs before leaving another mark on your thigh.

You nod enthusiastically, only verbally saying ‘yes’ when he shakes his head at your first response.

You shiver when his head dips and his tongue comes in contact with your slit. Your hands shake at the intrusion of his tongue merging with one of your most intimate areas, and suddenly your breathing is erratic. The more you paid attention to it, the more unnatural it felt.

“How’s that?” He asks, his index finger rubbing your clit in an unnervingly satisfying pace.

“Good. S-So good,” you respond as steadily as you can. The breathiness in your voice isn’t subtle to Levi. He almost smirks at how easy you are to unravel.

He dips down to get another taste of your sweetness, he didn’t expect to become addicted so quickly. Your taste isn’t the only thing he became addicted to, but also the wholesome way that you try to hold your moans in, and the way your body reacts to his touch.

His tongue replaces his finger on your clit, and his finger drops down to your entrance. He looks up at you through his lashes, full attention on you as he slowly slides a finger inside you.

A moan flows out of your mouth, the sound making his painfully hard cock twitch. You fist the sheets as he begins sliding his finger in and out of your clenching hole.

“Oh, you’re so delicate, sweetheart,” his voice is honey-like. A few pearls of slick slide down his palm. He watches the expression of pure ecstasy on your face—your pinched eyebrows, your eyes screwed shut, your bottom lip glossy from the amount of times you’ve licked and bitten it.

“Oh fuck, Levi,” you cry out when he nudges your sensitive area. You open your eyes, your face immediately heating up when you look down and catch his lustful gaze. His lips suck relentlessly on your clit as his finger fucks into you at a quicker pace than before.

“Can you take another one?” He asks, his middle finger prodding at your folds.

“Mhm, yes please,” you slur. Your brain has turned to mush, and you can’t think properly.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs as he stretches your hole with his second finger. He scatters kisses onto your inner thighs, biting occasionally.

You writhe as his digits curl inside you, willing you to let yourself go. To know that you’re the one receiving the pleasure, yet he seems to be just as aroused, is unbelievably attractive. He definitely knows his way around a woman’s body.

“F-Faster, please—ah—right there, Levi,” you push your head back further into your pillow, your face aimed towards the ceiling as moans and whimpers exit your mouth freely.

“Come for me, Y/N.” With that said, his fingers sheathe in and out of your pussy at a pace that makes your eyes almost roll out of your head. His mouth attacks your clit, the swollen nub already sensitive to the slightest of touches. You claw at your chest as he works you up until your cum drips down his fingers. He looks up at you, watching you lose the composure you held onto for so long. Your cheeks are red, your mouth gaped open and tears slide down your face. You’re a perfect mess, the way Levi planned for you to be.

“L-Levi, no more,” you whimper, your trembling thighs straining in an attempt to shut. Levi gets his last licks in, so that he can keep the taste of you on his tongue for a little longer. Your stomach quivers with every shaky breath you take, withstanding the overstimulation he provides.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he finally says as he pulls away. “Damn,” he mumbles, looking down at his crotch where his cum began seeping through his pants. He made a mess of himself too.

You just lay there tired and half asleep. Sweat coats your body in a luminous way, and hair sticks to your temples and forehead.

“Hey, wake up,” Levi says, tapping your knee. You hum but don’t budge. “Go shower, Y/N. You’ll sleep better when you’re clean.”

“I’m tired,” you whine, turning to your side and curling up into a ball.

“I know, but you’re a mess. How about you take a bath? Sound nice, right? Relaxing.”

Your eyes stay shut and you don’t move. “I’m gonna go start the bath. I’ll come back for you.”

“Mm,” you respond.

Levi fills the tub with warm water, pouring some of the lavender scented bath salts you had in one of the cabinets.

“Come on, Y/N. The bath is ready.” He says standing in the doorway.

“Fine.” You stand up and follow him into the bathroom.

You remove your camisole and step into the tub, sitting down carefully to make sure you don’t get water everywhere. Levi sits on his knees next to you. He does the job of cleaning you up while you just lay there and relax.

Your eyes are closed, but you’re not sleeping. You can feel every time Levi gets closer as he cleans you up thoroughly. Only someone who cares about you would do this for you.

By the end of the night, you’re one hundred percent certain that Levi has ruined you.

[tokkiotears]

Can you do one where Druig is in love with y/n and thinks they're in love with Ikaris so he doesn't confess?! In reality reader is in love with him too, but thinks he likes Makkari, so starts to spend more time with Ikaris so she can try to forget Druig.

note: this was fun to write :') i hope u guys like it!!

pairing: druig x fem!reader

summary: after seeing makkari and druig flirting, you spiral at the pub with ikaris, moping about the man you love

warnings: alcohol, swearing, not proofread

wc: 2.1k

Ikaris was your best friend. Really because he was your only option at the moment. When you had spent so many years swooning over Druig, there was a point where you needed to put some space between you and him. And Ikaris was one way to get that, after all, he was Druig’s least favorite.

It was that day, last week, that you had walked into the common area of the Domo to ask Thena a question. But you couldn’t even remember what you wanted to ask after you had seen Makkari being teased by Druig in a way that was very clearly flirty.

You had always considered that Druig and Makkari could end up together - but seeing it right in front of your face was like that extra salt in the wound. After that, no one other than Ikaris heard much from you. He’d bring you the occasional Ambrosia and book as you moped in your chambers. The cold obsidian walls were oddly comforting, but soon after the third day of your isolation, it was decided that you’d all stay in London for a few months.

Ikaris and you had gone for drinks at the local pub, with Gilgamesh and Kingo close behind. The pub had a low light spread throughout and the aggressive sports commentators of a football match on the televisions. Being an Eternal and all, it took far more for you to become inebriated. So the first ten pints didn’t phase Ikaris, but when you had begun ordering the hard stuff in large quantities, he became a little concerned. Or maybe he was more intrigued.

“Alright lass, you are going a bit heavy,” Ikaris’ fingers pulled the Irish Mule from under your chin, leaving you with a straw sticking from your lips and a disappointed look on your face. “Are you brooding over that brat again?”

Heat rose to your cheeks and you pulled the straw from your mouth, “Uh, no way! Never again.”

Your tone was hardly convincing. Ikaris raised a brow at you, sliding the beverage back towards you, “Ah so that’s what this, maybe you do need this.”

The man snickers at you, causing you to frown, “Hey, you need to zip it - you got lucky with Sersi. Not all of us are so blessed.” Ikaris watches you roll your eyes and take another sip, “I saw them flirting it up in the Domo the other day.”

The man stretches his arms, settling them on the back of the wooden bench behind him, “That’s tough princess. Hey, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad bein’ an old spinster, eh?”

“Huh!” You point your finger at his accursedly, “You owe me at least three dirty martinis for that comment.”

“Martini’s aren’t even good…” He chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. “Besides, why do you even like Druig? He’s a dick.”

“First of all, lower your voice! What the hell man,” You gasp, taking a quick look around the restaurant to make sure no one heard, “Second, you’re a dick too.”

Ikaris feigns offense with a gasp, “How dare you, woman.”

“Oh, I dare.” You giggle. Pushing your chair back, you put your hand out towards Ikaris - to which he blankly stares at, “Your wallet. C’mon, you owe me drinks now.”

He groans, furrowing his thick brows; All while pulling the leather fold out of his jean pocket and surrendering it to you. You blow him a kiss with all the sarcasm you can muster, and make your way to the bar. There are a few empty stools, but most are occupied.

“What can I get for ya, hon?” The older man behind the counter set down a glass before meeting your gaze.

“Three of whatever strongest,” You hand him the plastic card with a small smile.

“I’m gonna have to cut you off soon, you’re drying me out,” The man joked, “I’ll be right by with those.”

You return to the small table, tossing Ikaris his wallet which he catches easily. The look he gives is one that causes your stomach to drop. His eyes dart from yours to something behind you. You hear the door chimes ring, and spot Makkari and Druig. A strained groan escapes your lips.

“I’m glad I ordered more,” You whine, sinking into your chair. It takes less than sixty seconds for you to devour the remainders of all the alcohol at the table. When the two spotted you, Makkari waved. With that oh so lovable smile of hers. You cross your arms and let your head fall onto the table. It was going to be a long night.

Druig doesn’t really want to sit with Ikaris, but Makkari insisted - so that was the plan. Ikaris ordered another round of drinks for them and tried his very best to cover for you. The dark-haired boy was not naive, though. He noticed your general lack of involvement in the conversation. Constantly sipping on the next drink, or sightly turned to watch the TV that he knew you had no real interest in. In all honesty, you were positively shitfaced. The combination of the alcohol and the swaths of butterflies in your stomach from being so close to the man you were secretly in love with, was terrorizing you. You didn’t hear even a fraction of the conversation taking place.

“You two are quite the pair, eh?” Druig stated, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Y/N this drunk.”

Ikaris snorted, “Yeah mate, that has very little to do with me,” He grits his teeth, “I did sponsor a few though.”

The boys continued to chat, trying to keep the silence filled with some sort of conversation. The topic swayed from the football game to the new house and back to your drunken state. Druig watched as you were holding your head up with a tall glass of lager - almost baiting the thing to spill all over your sweater. Makkari signed to the ebony-haired boy, “I’m going to head back, you watch over her.”

Makkari winked at Druig before heading for the door and disappearing in a blur. Luckily Ikaris has his eyes fixed on the TV, only turning to Druig when he cleared his throat. “You should grab your girl and we can head back, it’s getting late.”

“My girl?” Ikaris threw his head back with laughter, “Mate, that is not my girl. If she’s anyone's, she’s yours.”

A thick blush rose to Druig’s face, “What the hell are you talking about mate?”

He shifted nervously, running a hand through his hair. What did Ikaris mean by that?

The Eternal knocked back one of the shots left on the table, “She will never let me see the light of day if she knows I told you this,” Ikaris straightened up in his spot, “She’s absolutely smitten by you mate.”

Ikaris held a finger over his lips in a ‘shush’ motion, “Our secret,” Finally he stood up, “Let’s head back.”

The dirty-blonde man tapped your shoulder, scaring you awake. Your eyes shot open, and just like Druig had predicted, the glass of lager tipped over all over your chest.

“For christ's sake,” Ikaris muttered, he has lass than thrilled with the scene. You groggily whined, looking down at the sopping sweater. You were too drunk to think, so you peeled the thing off. The men began to panic. Ikaris’ eyes darted around for a solution to cover your nearly bare abdomen. The only thing you had under was your bra. “Your jumper!”

Druig nodded hastily, pulling his black knit jumper off and wrestling it over your head.

“H-Hey,” You frowned at the commotion of being knocked around. The bartender shot concerned glances towards the three of you.

“Alright come on,” Ikaris hauled you into his arms, beelining for the door. On the way out, Druig made the entire pub forget the past ten minutes to be safe.

The walk back to the house was sobering for the two men, the chilly air focusing their minds.

“Are you sure?” Druig turned to Ikaris, breaking the silence that had enveloped them. Ikaris didn’t need Druig to elaborate for him to understand the question. Their footsteps continued on, crushing through the frosting grass.

“Never been more sure.”

The house was just ahead, a few of the windows glowing with light. Druig opened the door, wiping his feet well.

“Here, can you take her a moment?” Ikaris transferred you to Druig’s arms. The black tee he wore was thin enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from you. And before Druig realized it, Ikaris had disappeared.

“Dick.” He muttered. In his arms, you began to shift. You nuzzled your head into the space between his head and shoulder, nose pressed against his neck. Druig couldn't help when his heart picked up a heavier rhythm. Carefully he ascended the stairs, trying to find your room.

“Y/N,” Druig tested your consciousness, you hummed at him in response, “Y/N where is your room?

“Hm-mm,” You groaned, “Let me sleep in your room Ikaris…you can throw me on the floor.”

Druig sighed, “Y/N, it’s me Druig.”

You groaned even more, “Don’t be mean, I don’t wanna be alone tonight Ikaris.”

So be it. Druig brought you to his room, setting you on a recliner as he set up some blankets on the floor. Eventually, you found your way to the floor, kicking your jeans off and rolling up inside the fuzzy blanket. Druig changed into his pajamas and collapsed into his four-poster bed. What a night.

At some point in the early hours of the morning, you stumbled to the bathroom. The queasiness had mostly worn off, but you were still very much drunk. You scooped some of the faucet water into your mouth, attempting to hydrate. Once you wandered back into the room, you scooped up the blanket off the floor and crawled into bed with Ikaris. You could vaguely feel his form, and that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. You cringed retracing your hand, but he was also delightfully warm. Before you knew it, sleep had devoured you.

"Do you think we should wake them?” Makkari signed to Ikaris in the doorway. Ikaris scrunched his nose, shaking his head.

Druig could feel the bits of midday light seeping in through the slivers of the window that the curtains didn’t cover. He groaned, rolling over and pulling the mound of blankets closer to his chest. His ears perked at the grunt that came from the fabric.

“Ikaris - ugh, let go,” your legs stretch out, hitting Druig’s. Your mop of messy hair turns towards him. Druig looks at you with the same amount of shock that adorned your own features. “You are not Ikaris.”

“No shit love,” He rubs his forehead with his fingers, “I could’ve sworn you were on the floor last night.”

“Well, this is awkward,” You begin to sit up, but Druig puts his arm back around your middle.

“Ikaris told me.”

You have to ponder the idea for a moment. Really let it sink in. “I’m going to kill him. Oh, boy he is really gonna get it -“

“I feel the same, Y/N. I just never did anything because I thought you were into Ikaris,” Druig’s blue eyes bore into yours, looking gorgeous as ever. You didn’t want to leave his arms if all of this was true. How much did you drink last night? As if on cue, a dull ache began in your skull. Your body flopped back onto the bed, a hand going to cradle your head.

“We can talk about it as much as you’d like, but let me take care of you,” Druig murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. The man rolled out from the bed, revealing that his upper half was bare and finely built. Small freckles adorned his back here and there. Black sweatpants hung gracefully from his hips, bringing some heat to your cheeks. Through his tousled hair, he glanced at you, returning to your side with a glass of water and a few of those human pills.

“Thank you,” You whisper, gulping the medicine down. Druig placed the glass n his bedside table, his hand finding your face.

“Hey,” He murmured. His icy eyes set on you, fluttering towards your lips, almost distractedly. He gives in, leaning into your lips, gifting you a soft kiss, “I love you. I have been in love with you.”

He caresses your cheek, “We’ll figure this out.”

Small tears threaten to spill, from the drinking or his words, you can’t quite tell. You nod at him and he returns to his place beside you, holding you as close as he can.

[angelicizedeve]

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

featuring: itto x gn!reader

synopsis: you start working at a new flower shop and love it more than you should

✎ eve’s notes: so...i've never really done a fanfic that's in this style, as in, it's like a story. i usually do bullet points and drabbles but not this time! so hopefully it's decent lmao. btw i probably have some grammatical errors-

you peered at yourself in the slightly dirty glass of the flower shop one last time, making sure that you looked good. the flower shop was quite popular, and was owned by a friendly young man. he was really kind during the interview when you applied, so you weren't too nervous. you smoothed your skirt down, and with a deep breath, you pushed open the door to the shop.

you’d been there many times, but still, it never failed to amaze you in how magical it looked. stained-glass windows lined the walls, casting rainbows on the many plants on shelves everywhere. butterfly cutouts hung from the ceiling, along with flowering vines. it was like a fairy oasis. “hey, you must be [name]!” you heard a cheerful and loud voice exclaim. your eyes were met with a tall, muscular man with long, fluffy grey-white hair tied back. he wore a colourful apron with a bunch of pins and a name tag that read, “itto!” with a smiley face. you smiled. 

“yup! that’s me.”

“great! so, come with me and i’ll get you set up.”

you followed your superior, and he handed you an identical apron and explained what you had to do. your main job was cashier, but you’d also have to water some of the plants and put some sprouts into planters. easy enough!

throughout the day, itto and you worked amazingly well together. you two had fun conversations as you did your work, and itto introduced you to each customer. he knew all of them on a first name basis and what their favourite flowers were. you were amazed at how it seemed as if he was close friends with every single one of them. it was something you’d try to work on throughout your time working at the shop.

itto glanced up from a pile of paperwork he was filling out, seeing you walking out of the store. you’d completed your first shift there, and probably had had the most fun possible on a job.

“oh, [name]! wait up!”

itto walked around the counter and handed you a white rose. “here,” he said with a big smile.

“aw, thanks!” you said, admiring the flower. 

“haha, no problem. and, uh, thanks for...actually showing up today.” itto rubbed the back of his neck. “you have no idea how many people i hire that don’t even bother to come to their shifts. it’s hard, managing a whole store on your own, ya know?”

you gave a soft, sympathetic smile. “yeah, must be hard. but i’m always here if you need me to help you with stuff.” and with that, you headed home. 

after your amazing first shift, you eagerly accepted every other one that itto asked you to work. unlike it is for most people, work was the highlight of your day. you were surrounded by sweet customers, fragrant flowers, and the best co-worker. speaking of your coworker, itto never failed to give you a flower at the end of your shift. sometimes if you had an extra busy week, he’d throw in some snacks. you thought it was the sweetest thing ever, and always made sure to thank him &lt;3. 

eventually, your birthday rolled around. you expected a simple “happy birthday”, but itto surprised you by inviting you to dinner with him! how sweet, right? it was just such a kind gesture.

a very..kind..gesture.

it-

no it couldn’t be..

was itto asking you out on a date?

the thought put butterflies in your stomach and made your face grow warm. you knew that you probably were just going crazy, but still. you put on a fancy outfit, did your hair nice, and then hurried over to the restaurant. you were completely surprised to find itto standing outside, well dressed and a beautiful flower bouquet in hand.

“oh! [name]! i was thinking you wouldn’t show up!” he said with a nervous laugh. “these are for you.” itto handed you a gorgeous bunch of white roses, just like the one he gave you on your first day.

“oh! thank you so much!”

itto smiled, and opened the door to the restaurant for you. “shall we?”

the dinner went better than you imagined! you had a blast talking and laughing with your coworker. when you arrived home, which was quite late at night, you took the flowers out of the wrapping to put into a vase of water.

hm, that’s strange. there’s a note…

“so i did some research, and apparently roses represent love, so i got a bouquet of them since that’s what i feel about you.

-itto <;3”

you blinked at the words messily written on the small piece of paper, reading them over and over again. it was a dream come true. 

[buckybarnesdiaries]

wakanda

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Steve gives you Bucky's dog tags for a reason.

word count: 2.4k (lol, sorry)

warnings/tags: none. bucky being a cutie.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Welcome to Wakanda, agent (Y/N)”.

A second after you crossed their airspace, you were courteously greeted. The views from your ship were indescribable. Peace invaded you just at the sight of the open fields and the warm colors of autumn. You could get used to that place too. To live in calm, work hand-to-hand with Shuri, and have time to spend it with Bucky. The reason why you were flying there. Removing your right hand from the control and grabbing in a fist the dog tags hanging on your chest, you took a deep breath while closing your eyes before getting ready to land. T’Challa was waiting for you at the entry of his kingdom, accompanied by his excited little sister and some of his guards.

Pressing a sequence of buttons above your head, to pull the control back, the ship went down slowly folding its wings. As you landed and turned off the engineers, you freed yourself from the seatbelt and the huge headphones to step out. Shuri received you with a friendly hug, breaking protocol and being just Shuri. You built a strong relationship since you met a year ago, when you brought Bucky to that beautiful and magical place, to let him recover. To let him rest.

“Your highness”. You uttered to T’Challa crossing your forearms in the traditional salutation of Wakanda.

“Agent (Y/N)”. He corresponded walking closer. “The white wolf asked me to let you know he wouldn’t want to be… bothered with visits today”.

You couldn’t help but frown. The last time you saw him was around three months ago. You usually interchanged letters from week to week, being one of the fewer persons he trusted in. And it wasn’t just a question of trust. Steve told you about his feelings, his shyness, and insecurities, his fears. What Bucky didn’t know, again, it wasn’t a question of trust from you either. That’s why the Captain gave you the dog tags, after more than thirteen years under custody. You wanted to see him, to know if he was happy there as he wrote you in his letters one million times.

“He doesn’t wear his arm here”. Shuri clarified, taking a position close to his brother.

By the look on their faces, you were aware of two things. One, they noticed too that something was growing between Bucky and you, and that it wasn’t a simple friendship. Two, they weren’t going to stop you. Oh, quite the opposite. They’d bring you to him on a golden platter and a big red bow on your head. The king beckoned a hand to urge you to follow him to the inside of the building and use one of their ships to fly above the place to the white wolf’s location.

You were nervous. You didn’t sleep more than a couple of hours last night thinking about him and how he’d react to having back his tags since the forties. Your eyes were focused throughout the window on your left, watching different citizens taking care of animals and plantations, children running from one side to another, playing and having fun. Oblivious to the horror of New York, where you resided. One of the cities in the world with the highest rates of street violence. Serial killers or simply killers, rapists, kidnappers, drug dealers (...). It was a minefield and Wakanda seemed and felt like Heaven.

“Did you think about the offer?” Shuri nudged you to push you back to reality, turning your head towards her.

“Since you dropped it to me”.

“So?”

“I…” You needed to put away your gaze again, focusing on the blue opened sky in front of them. “I want… to consult him first if you don’t mind”.

“Of course, (Y/N)”.

“I don’t want to put his world upside down, now that he’s not the…” You couldn’t finish the sentence. You couldn’t pronounce that detestable nickname and the pain beneath it.

Shuri nodded in silence, not needing your explanations. She knew how you felt. She understood you. The talk didn’t continue, stretching your right hand on your lap to calm your nerves and make you comfortable with the situation. The flight didn’t last longer than five or ten minutes, losing the track of time deep in your thoughts. The pilot indicated to you through the headphones that you were about to land, glancing at a complex of small houses in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees and wilderness.

You were the last one jumping outside with your hand grabbing the tags on your chest, trying to find the encouragement there to follow T’Challa’s hand pointing at a man working with goats and collecting hay for them. Licking your lips and assenting with your chin, you guided your steps towards him. Slowly. As if you wanted to turn around at some point. But you knew it was too late when he was the one turning at the sound of your heavy boots cracking the grass under them.

Bucky didn’t look annoyed for your visit, nor the lack of attention to his petition. Although there was something in his pale blue orbs you weren’t able to decipher, until he bowed down his head unconsciously to his left shoulder covered by a dark fabric matching his eyes. You had to do your best to not roll yours, shortening the distance setting you apart. You had been dreaming about that encounter since the last time you were there before Shuri accessed the darkest place of his mind and cleaned it from any trail of HYDRA. Now, he was free. And he looked in good condition as the bags under his eyes had disappeared and his hair was almost tied with a bun. His cheeks seemed a little more chubby and you just wanted to pinch them. But it’d be weird and out of place. For the time being.

Bit by bit, a sweet smile widened in your lips, curving them as Bucky stared at you again when he was conscious that you didn’t care. With or without a metal arm, your feelings were exactly the same. You couldn’t admire him more than you were admiring him at this point. You couldn’t love him more than you loved him already. And God was a witness of how many times you practiced to confess to him and tell him that the only thing you wanted in life was to be by his side. Bring happiness to his days, bring him peace and harmony.

“I'm sorry…” “I brought you…”

You two spoke at the same time, breaking in a soft giggle that jumped your hearts in complete sync.

“You first”. He let you, waving his hand.

“I… brought you something”. You susurrated, loosening the grip around the metal hanging on your chest to take off the necklace.

You noticed the way his eyes widened in surprise and confusion. Why did you have them? Who gave them to you? Why now? Bucky gulped watching you stretching the dog tags between your fingers towards him. He didn’t know what to do, taking a second before he was able to react. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he saw them, and the amount of memories they gave him overwhelmed his whole brain.

In slow motion narrowing his eyes, Bucky held the chain with two fingers to hang the necklace from it. You thought he was about to wear them, but he destabilized you as he directed his hands to above your head, to place them where they were an instant before. You didn’t understand. Didn’t he want them back?

“I want you to keep it”.

“But…”

“I want you to have something mine”. Bucky recognized with a shy smile decorating his lips. “Those tags and my arm are the only things I have from my past. And… I won’t give you my arm…”

“Well, I bet it’d look good hanging from my neck”. You jocked tilting your head.

In his gift, you found the encouragement you needed to talk about T’Challa’s job offer. It wasn’t as if you were proposing to him, in the end, you were just friends even if it felt quite the opposite. You licked your upper lip, kissing your teeth after it, earning more than his attention.

“Shuri said, uh… I could come here, work with her. We’d do great things together, not only for Wakanda but for the world”.

Bucky’s gesture didn’t change a single inch, focused on the nervousness you were trying to hide from him and reading the reasons beneath.

“So T’Challa offered me to stay here”.

“Permanently?”

“Yeah… Permanently”. You assented pressing your lips, breathing through your nostrils.

“Did you accept?”

“Not yet. Not until talking to you about”.

He nodded then a couple of times, turning to the goats behind him coming closer. “Got to finish some stuff… Maybe we can talk later about it unless you have to leave”.

“No, no. I, uh… asked for the day off. Banner didn’t need me at the lab today”.

“Okay, good”.

While the king was showing you the new level for research and investigations, Bucky took the advantage to go and find Shuri without your knowledge. He found her in the surroundings of the main building, working on your ship as you said it made some kind of random noise that put you out of your nerve during the flight.

“I need my arm”.

The princess squatted close to the left wing, turned at him without standing up. Pulling her sunglasses to the top of his head, she raised an eyebrow.

“For what”.

“You know for what”. He clicked his tongue, placing his hand on his left shoulder.

“No, I don’t”. She lied while cleaning the grass and oil in her expert fingers.

“I need to have two arms”.

“You’ve been working the last months with one arm only. Why do you need it now?”

“C’mon… Argh…” Bucky rubbed his face with boredom. “I want to hug her, okay? Can you just… give me back my damn arm?”

“Not enough reasons, you can hug her using your right”.

“I want to have two hands when I kiss her”. He finally confessed in a hiss, provoking a triumphant smile growing on Shuri’s lips.

“If you lie to me, if you don’t kiss her, Sergeant Barnes… I’ll code it to punch your face”.

“Wait…” Bucky wrinkled his nose drawing a horrified gesture on his face, as he turned his blue eyes towards his left shoulder. “Can you… do that?”

“Try me”.

No, of course she couldn’t, but he didn’t know. Which were a good push for him to not go against her and her petition.

“C’mon. I’ll set it up and help you to put it on”.

Your eyes were traveling from one picture to another. He put some of them around his small house and it looked better now. More like a home. A place to stay. And for a second you felt a twinge straight in your heart when you noticed one photograph of the two of you, close to his bed. It was after your first mission together. Steve insisted on taking it, after noticing the sparkles between you. But you didn’t know he brought it to Wakanda with him, as your copy is on your nightstand too. And you used to fall asleep every night looking at it.

The curtain being moved and some steps in pulled you out from your thoughts, turning to find Bucky staring in silence at you. Your orbs landed on the metal arm. It was different too since the last time you saw it, with golden strips forming between the silver ones. You couldn’t help but sigh.

“You didn’t need to…”

“Yes, I did. I did need it”. He interrupted you, breathing through his parted lips and his heart about to fly off from his chest.

“Why?”

“Because, otherwise, I couldn’t do this”.

You were about to ask what he was referring to, watching him breaking the distance between the two of you in three fast strides. You closed your eyes at the moment his hands held your neck and Bucky slammed his lips on yours. The kiss, the contrast of cold and warmth on your skin, the everlasting longing for it to happen… All of this caused you to gasp, tangling the tunic at the height of his chest in your fists, not wanting him to take a step back. Your mouths fit perfectly without looking for it, made for each other, as he secured his fingers on the back of your neck. And you felt your knees weak when he pecked your lips one more time, before caressing your nose with his, not being able to open your eyes. Neither of you.

“I don’t have the right… to ask for anything”. He babbled. His insecurities coming afloat even if you hadn’t pushed him away. “But… I want you to stay here. With me. I… I don’t have much to offer you, but I promise to make you happy”.

At this point, your eyes were filled with tears, strongly closing your eyelids to not let them fall. You swallowed a sob, moving your hands from his chest to his middle back, embracing him tighter as you could.

“You’ve been making me happy since we met, Bucky”.

He chuckled breathless, intuiting he was too at the edge of his crying because of that affirmation.

“Every Tuesday, I wait at the stairs of my apartment for the mail, for your letters. I’ve… read them so many times I can recite them… by heart. Every word you've written to me”.

“I will continue writing them for you, even if you stay with me”.

Your voices were low, barely audible out of his place. Like secrets. Bucky kissed you again, bending enough to raise you by the back of your thighs and urge you to surround his waist with your legs. The dog tags on your chest clicked against the other, as you moved your arms to his shoulders and neck, and you were unable to stop kissing him. You two could die right now and not be bothered because you were finally together, and that was all you deserved in life.

“Tell me you will stay… please”. His beg brushed your lips, still pecking them between syllable and syllable.

“I will…” You replied without hesitating as you could, eager to correspond to every gesture from him. “I will stay with you”.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it and/or reblog it.

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[mypoisonedvine]

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || your newest client asks you to give him a real challenge, and you’re happy to oblige.  

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 6.3k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut but no actual sex (lots of handjob stuff though and some brief oral m receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, more cnc (because of the overstimulation), bondage, edging, impact play (riding crop), brief cock torture (she just hits him with the crop a couple times), implied “kink as trauma response” (this is gonna be a theme throughout the whole fic), forced to break a rule/doomed to fail/impossible challenge (idk how to warn for this but yeah), forced voyeurism?, thigh riding (reader rides bucky’s thigh), some degradation/dumbification, brief/implied dacryphilia, a bit of angst/feelings

new parts posted on thursdays!  join the taglist here

“Can’t,” he sighed, “can’t come again.”

He looked so painfully adorable when he begged like that, his brow glistening with sweat as he jerked under your touch.  “Aw, poor baby,” you pouted, twisting your hand when it stroked over the head of his cock, “yes you can.  I know you can.  Just gimme one more.”

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, “Mistress, please— just stop, please, I can’t… can’t take any more…”

“I know you can, sweetheart— I know you can be my good boy and keep coming for me.  Tell me your color.”

“Yellow,” he whispered.

“Think you’re almost done?” you pressed, smiling when he nodded breathlessly.  “Yeah, there’s my good boy— gonna come again for your Mistress?”

“Yes,” he breathed, baring his teeth as his hips bucked wildly to try to avoid further sensation, “y-yes, one more, just one more, I’m gonna— fuck, gonna come, just don’t stop… fuck, it hurts.”

“I know, but you’re being so good for me,” you purred.  “You like it when I milk your pretty cock, don’t you?  Even though it hurts?”

He winced but nodded.  “C-coming, Mistress, fuck, I’m coming…!”

Since it was his fifth of the evening, he could only give you one thick drop of come that gathered at his slit before running down over your hand which finally slowed to a stop.

You both sighed with relief as you pulled your hand away and leaned back, admiring how beautiful he looked as he caught his breath, covered in come and sweat.

"Good job," you praised with a chuckle, "I hope I didn't go too hard on you."

"N-no, that was… that was really good," he sighed, slumping back onto the bed.  "Can I use your shower before I go?"

"Yeah, totally," you nodded.

After a long pause, you gave him a confused look.  

"I thought you were gonna shower?" you reminded him.

"Oh… I guess I have to get up for that," he sighed, making you laugh.

"Rest a bit longer.  You've had a… challenging afternoon."

He nodded a little and you got up from the bed to go wash your hands and freshen up a little, smiling at your own appearance in the mirror— sometimes you forgot how you looked when you did this, but there was an undeniable aura of power around you… especially after a session like that.

This was only your third week with James, and already the dynamic felt so natural between you— and yet, so fresh compared to your other clients.  Normally it took longer for a newbie to get comfortable with you, yet most of them had had multiple doms before and here was James, totally inexperienced and taking it all like a champ.  There was an air of innocence about him, you figured, in contrast to this undeniable strength and intensity that you caught glimpses of from time to time.

Sometimes, it felt like he was chasing an innocence he lost a long time ago.  Whatever it was that drew him to this, you were happy to help him along the way.

It was probably a little dangerous to enjoy sessions with a client so much; even though you often pretended that everything was about your pleasure and not theirs, obviously since they were the paying customer it was the complete opposite in reality.  But there was an equity to the dynamic with you and Bucky, he served you with a real dedication rather than for his own gain.  And you, meanwhile, had rediscovered the fun in this career that had originally drawn you to it in the first place.  It was less like a science now, more like an art— you let yourself go with your instincts and do whatever felt right in the moment, and both of you benefitted for it.  

“Come on, get up and clean yourself off,” you encouraged— gently, of course— as you left the bathroom and returned to find James laying sprawled out on the bed.

“I know you said falling asleep here was a one-time courtesy,” he remembered with a smile, “but I could use it now a lot more than I needed it then.”

Honestly, you didn’t see him smile that often.  It was pleasant; you hoped to see it again.  He did get up, though, and take the washcloth you handed him to wipe off the come that had gotten all over him.  “What are you thinking for next week?” you asked as you leaned against the wall.  “Any special requests?”

“We can discuss all that over the phone,” he decided.  You still didn’t understand fully why he didn’t like to discuss future scenes in person; it was like he wanted the in-person interactions to be as ‘in character’ (if you will) as possible.

“Alright, just keep me updated,” you requested with a shrug.

You got changed while he took his shower, and when he emerged to the living room he seemed surprised to see you sitting on your own couch.  After a moment, you realized it was the fact that you were in normal clothes that threw him off.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before… or pants of any kind.”

You looked down at your outfit with a smile, glad it was at least still professional and not sweats and a t-shirt or something.  “Yeah, I guess you haven’t.  First time for everything, right?”

“Yeah, had a lot of first times with you,” he chuckled.  “Most significantly less mundane than this.”

A brief silence filled the room but it wasn’t exactly awkward, at least not for you.

“Well, I’ll see you next week,” he decided as he grabbed his jacket from your chair and slipped it on.  You’d been spending most of this session trying to forget how good he looked in the leather motorcycle cut, so that was out the window now as you tried to keep from visibly biting your lip while he walked towards the door.

Damn, he was fine.  But there were more pressing matters at hand.  Like preparing yourself and your apartment for your next appointment.  This guy wanted to get slapped around until he cried… shouldn't be too difficult, but your arms would probably be sore tomorrow.

Opposite of last week, I really want you to edge me tonight, as long as possible.

Don't go easy on me, make me hold it in.  I need a challenge this week.

-J

It was odd how emails from James made your week.

He seemed to prefer to communicate his desire with you this way; maybe it was easier for him, and you couldn’t really blame him for that.  The nice part was that you didn’t have to temper your reactions, if you had any, since you were always alone when you got his messages.  You might be old hat at it now, but you could remember a time that you had to hide a grimace when a client told you to your face what he wanted.  Not that you would shame them for it or anything (unless, you know, they paid you to), but you didn’t enjoy everything you did with these men.

Did you enjoy everything you did with James?  Yes, but you were pretending not to— for your own sake.

You dressed a bit differently for today’s session, more conservatively… not that it was especially conservative by any other person’s standards.  But it left your legs and chest covered, somewhat in the spirit of ‘mean corporate businesswoman’ aesthetically.  For some reason you felt like using a riding crop required wearing pants.

James certainly didn’t seem to mind, with the way he nervously cleared his throat after you opened the door.

“Good to see you again,” you greeted formally, “please, come in.”

He stepped past you, still looking at you and not at what was in front of him, meaning he ended up slamming himself gut-first into your kitchen island.

“Oh!  Are you alright?” you smiled when you noticed. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded, rubbing his stomach for a second but recovering quickly.  “I told you I can take a lot of pain,” he joked.

“Well, we’re going to put that to the test today,” you promised cryptically.  “You must’ve seen the crop on the table.”

He nodded again.  “Yeah....”

“Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes,” he answered, a bit too quickly.

“Then let’s get you tied up, James.”

Straddling his lap, you realized the rope was a bit too tight when you saw it digging into his skin; maybe he wouldn’t mind that, but you did, so you pushed the rope back through itself to loosen it slightly.

“How long did it take you to learn all these knots?” he asked casually, watching your fingers nimbly work the ropes around his wrists.

“Not too long,” you shrugged, “I’ve only been doing this a few years… but I knew them before that.”

“Boating school?  Boy Scouts?” he suggested jokingly.

“Just a hobby,” you decided, dodging the covert question about your past.  “Were you a Boy Scout?”

“Do I look like a Boy Scout?” he countered with a scoff.

“Not anymore,” you shrugged, “but I bet you did once.  You’re sorta innocent, you know.”

He swallowed dryly, and you raised an eyebrow as you glanced from the knot you were tightening to his face, which looked a bit flustered.  “R-really?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, leaning back on your heels to look at him straight-on.  “Are you surprised to hear that?”

He nodded quickly, and you laughed.

“Aw, you thought you were so kinky, huh?  So dirty,” you purred, running your hand up his leg until he tugged slightly on the newly-tied ropes— a subtle way to get him to test them for you.  “But you’re really not.  You’re just my sweet, innocent boy.”

He whined— really, properly whined— and you dug your nails into his skin until he hissed instead.

“I don’t think you believe me,” you noticed, leaning back to reach for the crop behind you.  “You think you’re so filthy and perverted, right?  Are you a pervert, James?”

“Yes,” he breathed, shivering as you let the crop slide gently over his skin— his abs, his hips, his legs which were already quivering so adorably.  “Yes, Mistress.”

“And how’s that?”

“I think about… getting hurt,” he admitted weakly, “when I touch myself.  And I touch myself all the fucking time.”

“Yeah?  How many times a day do you stroke that pretty cock, James?”

“Twice every morning,” he blurted out, “after that it depends.”

You didn’t let yourself show your surprise at that number.  “Depends on what?”

When he hesitated, you hit him sharply on the thigh and he winced.  “Depends on what I… what I end up thinking about.  Sometimes… sometimes something reminds me, and I have to get off.”

Something told you not to press on what it was that he needed to be reminded of, and why it made him want to jerk off so bad.  Something told you he wasn’t ready to tell that story yet.  “Did you touch yourself today already?” you asked instead.

“No, no ma’am,” he shook his head, voice wavering as you brushed the crop over his chest, “it’s… it’s different with you.”

“Yeah, I bet it is,” you smirked, hitting him on the stomach quickly.  “I bet you’re finally satisfied, right?  Nothing’s ever worked for you before.”

“Yes,” he moaned, crying out slightly when you hit him on the arm (flesh— you were too afraid what sound the metal one would make) much harder than before.  “The nights I see you, I… I can sleep.”

“You sleep better?”

“No, I just… sleep.”

You tried not to react to that, moving to a new question instead.  “Do you want me to hit you again?  Or do you want me to stroke your cock for you?”

An obvious choice to some, surely, but he seemed to really struggle with it.

“Which one do you think you deserve?” you asked instead.

“Hit me more,” he decided.

Instantly, you struck him once on the face and again on the shoulder, then moved down to his legs for three in a row in spite of the way his body jerked away instinctively.  

“Fuck,” he sobbed, “don’t stop— I need more…”

You focused on his legs, on the inside of his thigh where he seemed the most sensitive.  His twisted joy turned to true fear, though, when you brushed the end of the crop over his balls.  “Do you want me to hit you here?” you challenged.

“I… I don’t know,” he stammered.

“Let’s make a deal, James,” you offered, “wherever I hit you, I’m gonna kiss it to make it better.”

“Then hit me wherever you want,” he nodded, almost smiling at you.  He cried through his teeth when you whipped his shaft with the crop— not especially hard, in fact quite delicately, though the second was harder.  And the third, though not much more aggressive, was right on the sensitive tip; his eyes shot open and his hips jerked away.

“So good, such a good boy,” you whispered proudly, putting the crop aside to lean in and kiss his cheek where you’d hit him before, his shoulder, his arm.

You worked your way down carefully as he breathed heavily beneath you, whimpering slightly when you kissed his thighs and notably ignored his flexing, leaking cock.  “Please,” he whimpered.

“Shh, be patient,” you soothed, “be my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” he repeated, trying to restrain himself but already bucking up into the air again, “fuck, wanna be your good boy, Mistress.”

“Are you already close, pet, just from getting hurt?” you asked in a faux pout.  “You’re not gonna come if I give your pretty cock some kisses, right?”

“I— I won’t come,” he promised.  “Not until I get permission.”

“Baby, it’s gonna be a long fuckin’ time before you get permission,” you promised with a toothy grin.  “Look down at me, honey, I want you to see this.”

He hesitated for a second but obeyed, looking down at you with an expression that was full of awe as you gripped his cock and gave gentle, teasing kisses up his shaft.  It bobbed in your hands with each one, and he let out the most beautiful sigh when you kissed the tip carefully.

A wide lick made him jerk beneath you.  “F-Fuck,” he stammered.

“You said you wouldn’t come,” you reminded him.  “Can I keep going?  Are you gonna be a good boy?”

“Don’t stop, please,” he breathed, “I’ll be good.”

Taking the head between your lips, you suckled gently as he shivered and moaned.  You weren’t sure you’d ever been with anybody— on or off the clock— who was so sensitive.  And you loved it, honestly; who could resist those precious noises he made?

As much as part of you wanted to go nuts and really push him to the edge, you tried to be gentle and careful so as not to make it impossible for him to hold back.  But even then, when you gently grasped his balls in one of your hands and squeezed them, he apparently couldn’t take anymore.

"S-stop," he hissed, and you pulled back, sitting up.

"You were close?" you asked, and he nodded a little.  "Oh, what a good boy."

He whimpered briefly.  "Yes, your good boy, Mistress…"

Your fingers trailed delicately up the underside of his cock, making him shiver violently.  "I know you want to come, but you want to be good even more.  You're such a sweet little pet."

It seemed like the praises did more to keep him on the edge than the touches, so you kept both going; wrapping your fingers around the ridge of his head, you gave the most gentle and subtle strokes, and leaned in to whisper against his ear.

“Is this why you wanted me to edge you today, James?  So you could show me how good you can be?” 

“I-I don’t know,” he blurted out, rocking his hips as best he could while restrained, “I just wanted to… I just wanted you to make me wait.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” you laughed slightly, “I can make you wait all day.  Is that what you want?”

“No, that’s— not that long, I can’t wait that long,” he shuddered.

“Mm, that sounds like your problem, not mine,” you smirked.  “Not sure why I asked what you want, honestly… cause I don’t fucking care.”

His choked-out whine was too perfect to ignore.

“Oh, what a pathetic little moan that was, poor baby,” you cooed mockingly, “are you regretting it now?  You’re probably wondering what you got yourself into, ‘cause you’re worried Mistress is never gonna let you come.”

“No, I don’t regret it,” he denied weakly, “whatever you want— do whatever you want to me, just… give me what I deserve, please.”

You stopped touching him completely and he straight-up sobbed.  “You don’t deserve anything from me, James.  You don’t deserve me at all.”

He told you before that he liked when you rapidly cycled between soft and mean.  Kept him on his toes, apparently.  Honestly, you felt a little guilty talking to him that way sometimes, but his cock leaking enough pre-cum to soak the bedsheets beneath him was a sign you were doing something right.  “I know!” he cried.  “I know, fuck, I’m sorry, but I need you.  I fucking need you, Mistress, please— you know I’ll do anything.”

“I’m feeling generous today,” you shrugged, “so I won’t ask you for much.  Just beg me a little more.”

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” he rushed, “touch me.  Anywhere, whatever you want, I just need to feel you.  I know I… fuck, I know I don’t deserve it, but let me try to— to earn it.  Please.”

You knew if he had it his way, he wouldn’t do much talking at all.  But you couldn’t just let him have it his way, now could you?  It was better to make him just the right amount of nervous, just the slightest hair uncomfortable, by making him talk to you.  And, of course, you liked the way his deep and rough voice got all whiny and needy like this.

One finger under his chin guided him to look up at you, those pretty blue eyes watery and sparkling and wide with misplaced innocence.

“Tell me who you belong to, James,” you instructed darkly.

“You, Mistress,” he whispered, “I’m yours, I— oh fuck…”

Unshockingly, he was reduced to only moans again when you started stroking his cock, the slick precum making every movement smoother.  “All mine, huh?  My little toy?” you confirmed, but he could only nod and swallow thickly.

You sped up quickly, getting faster and faster until you were really, properly jerking him off and he was biting hard on his lip.  Just when he seemed to really fall into it, get almost comfortable, you had to stop.

"Oh, fuck—" he gasped, bucking his hips up to try to chase your hand when you pulled away, but it was no use with him tied up.  You watched his cock bob in the air and smiled.

“Did you think it was going to be that easy?” you smirked.

Shaking his head, you tilted yours to look at him, reaching up to trace your fingers over his chest.  

“Don’t lie, baby, you thought I was gonna let you come, didn’t you?  You’re so sweet, James, and so, so stupid.”

He gasped, and for a second you thought you might’ve gone too far, but it shifted to a moan quickly and you realized he was having the time of his life.

“Just my dumb, brainless little toy,” you continued with a snarl, watching him tug at the ropes as his eyes fluttered shut.  “It’s okay, James, it’s okay… you don’t need to think, I don’t want your mind.  It’s useless.  I want this pretty cock, that’s all I want from you.”

“It’s all yours, Mistress,” he promised, cheeks burning bright red and eyes forced shut.  “All of it, I swear.”

“I know,” you cooed, holding his face gently to soothe him a bit.  But then your other hand wrapped around his cock and he was anything but soothed.  “Shh, shh, don’t make any sounds, you’re just a toy and toys need to stay quiet.”

You missed his noises, actually, but he looked so cute biting his lip and struggling to suppress them.  His cock was so swollen in your hand that you honestly wondered if it was somehow getting bigger.  Was that even possible?  Your mouth was watering regardless.

“I’m gonna give you a little break,” you promised gently, “but I’ll be honest, pretty boy… I don’t think you’re gonna like it one bit.”

The look he gave you beautifully balanced fear with anticipation, and you stopped stroking him to reach over towards the bedside drawer and pull out a vibrator.

“Your Mistress is feeling a little.... self-indulgent today,” you winked.  “And since I, unlike you, don’t need to hold myself back from coming, I think I might as well get myself off if I want to.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed dryly, watching you closely as you stood up off the bed and started to carefully undress yourself.  It was a lot more fun to get naked when you were wearing something that didn’t actually show much skin— the button-up seemed to really get him going, his tongue mindlessly darting out to lick his lips as you opened one button at a time.

Once it was off your shoulders and on the floor, and he could see the almost-transparent bra you had on, you moved to opening your trousers as well.  Just to be mean, you faced the other way as you pushed them down over your ass; you heard his breath catch and you smirked to yourself, spinning to face him again in just the matching, dark red bra and panty set.

“What do you think, do you like this better than the black ones?” you asked coyly.

“I like you naked better than both,” he answered, and you grinned.

“I’m gonna let that backtalk slide just once because it’s not worth my time to go over there and slap you for it,” you decided.  “But don’t test me, James.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he answered dutifully, sounding a bit out of breath as he watched you climb back onto the bed, positioning yourself carefully.

You faced him straight-on and laid your legs over his, meaning your lace-covered pussy was in full view and only inches from his leaking cock— the damn thing looked sore by now, purple at the tip and just as desperate for attention as the rest of him.

When you pulled the fabric aside to show him your cunt, he hissed and looked away.

“Look at me, James, keep your eyes open,” you demanded, seeing how totally wrecked he looked when he turned his head back to you and stared down at your body with half-lidded eyes.  “Look at how fucking soaked my pussy is.  You remember how it feels to be inside it, don’t you?”

He swallowed, sighed, and finally (just barely) nodded.

“You remember how hot and wet and tight it is, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he choked.

“Well, that memory’s all you’ve got to work with, sweet boy, because I don’t think I’m ever gonna let you fuck this pussy again.”

He really, properly sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks, and those arms flexed against the ropes defiantly.  “N-no, please—” 

“I’m gonna make myself come with this,” you promised, interrupting him as you grabbed the vibe, “and I want you to remember how it feels when I come around you, okay?  

Turning it on, you wasted no time pressing it to your clit, moving the end of the toy in slow circles and keeping a close eye on him as he watched you.  Your intention had always been to give him a show, but the embarrassing thing was how little of it was an act.  Ironically, even though you’d been edging him this whole time, having to touch him that way without any pleasure for yourself was almost as torturous.  You’d soaked through your panties by the time you had him tied up, to be totally honest.  So, giving into it and letting yourself feel good was a breeze.

“Think about when I was riding you, James,” you instructed, your own voice clearly affected by your pleasure now.  “Think about how good it would feel if I let you come inside me.”

“Oh, god,” he cried, leaning his head back.

“Think about my pussy milking every fucking drop of come out of you.  You know I wouldn’t let you stop until I was completely full of your come, I bet you’d like that.  I bet you’d like to eat your come out of me, you sick little pervert.”

“Fuck!” he yelped, tugging at the ropes harder now— for a second you thought he might really break them and jump you.  And for a second, you knew you’d let him.  It made your walls clench as you imagined facing the consequences of driving a man to the brink of insanity until he couldn’t help but fuck you like an animal.  It was a good thing he didn’t see you bite your lip as you imagined that.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” you taunted.  

“God, don’t tell me,” he sighed through his teeth, but obviously you ignored him.

“I’m thinking about what a good boy you are for me,” you cooed, your hips starting to rock up against where you held the end of the vibrator; you pressed it down harder onto your clit and moaned instantly.  “Yeah, I’m thinking about how pretty you look when you’re all desperate and needy and fucking pathetic—”

“Oh—” he choked.

“My dumb litlte whore, that’s all you are, James,” you groaned.  “I know you wish you could touch me, it’s all you can think about, right?  That pretty head of yours would be completely empty if it weren’t for thoughts of me and how badly you want me.  Right?”

“Yes,” he whispered huskily.

A shiver ran up your spine when the vibrator bumped into a more sensitive part of you, and you did it again and again until you thought you might lose it a bit faster than you meant to.  “This toy feels really good,” you informed him in a purr, gasping when you slipped the vibrating body of it into your pussy, “but it doesn’t feel as good inside me as you do.”

His eyes fell shut but he still winced a bit every time you made a sound; he couldn’t run from this, no matter how hard he tried.

“Oh James,” you moaned loudly, fucking yourself with the vibe for a moment before you pulled it back out to focus even harder on your clit, “I’m gonna come.  I’m so, so close… I can feel it getting stronger, I think I might make a mess on these sheets.  And the only way I’m ever gonna let you come is if you watch me do it.  So open your fucking eyes.”

He blinked quickly as he opened them, gaze scanning your whole body before settling on your cunt; you were sure he could see it pulsing as you got closer and closer, you knew he was imagining how it would feel.  You only spared a brief glimpse at his cock, bobbing between his legs, and wished you could just slip it in you now and come while it stretched you out. 

But that wasn’t what he was here for, sadly, and you were sure you were the only being truly denied of your desires, despite how it probably seemed from the outside.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, numbness starting to tingle in your legs as your orgasm built up quicker than even you expected.  “I’m coming— James, I’m coming, oh, fuck… right there— yes!”

A gush of heat warmed your cunt at the same time that shocks ran up your spine and down your limbs; you could feel your legs shaking, and you knew he could, too.  

It got so intense for a second that you had to pull the vibrator away, though you didn’t stop coming until a few moments later, eyes falling shut without you meaning for them to.

You actually laughed a bit, breathlessly, as you turned the vibe off and set it aside, although you weren’t sure exactly what was supposed to be funny about this per se.  When you opened your eyes, you saw James looking down and looking positively defeated.  But he looked tense, too, and you sat up on your wobbly legs to get closer to his face.  

“Relax, James,” you told him firmly as you examined him.

“I— I can’t,” he whispered. 

“Why not?”

“I’ll come.”

Nothing could fight your wide grin anymore, not when you heard that.  “Oh, baby… are you about to come without even being touched?  Is that how much you liked watching Mistress come?”

He nodded, ever so slightly, and you laughed.  Not quite a mocking laugh, moreso impressed.  Prideful, even.  You leaned in to give a wet kiss to his neck, licking over his pulse as he shivered violently.

“That’s my good boy,” you whispered against his skin.  He whined and you cooed soothingly right away, “oh I know, I know.  It’s so unfair, isn’t it?  Mistress gets to come and you don’t…”

“Please,” he stammered, “I’m so close, let me come, please.”

“But I don’t wanna see you come, baby— I wanna see you cry.”

You started to slide your hand down his chest and he jumped up to attention as he tried to squirm away.  “No, please, don’t— don’t touch my cock, not if I can’t come.”

“You can hold it in, can’t you?” you pouted.

“No, I can’t, I can’t,” he sobbed, watching fearfully as your hand moved down to his stomach and over his hips.  

“But I thought you were my good boy,” you frowned, suddenly wrapping your hand tight around his cock as he choked on a gasp.

“Mistress!” he sobbed.  “Please, don’t—  don’t move your hand, I’ll come.”

"Never fucking tell me what to do," you instructed firmly, just barely stroking as he cried weakly.  "I'm gonna touch you however I want and you're not gonna come because you're my good boy, right?"

"No, Mistress, I can't stop it, I'm gonna come— stop, please…"

"You'd better not fucking come," you hissed through your teeth, speeding up your movements and watching his eyes shoot wide open, "you'd better hold it in until I'm done with you."

"I'm trying— please slow down, can't take it—"

You shook your head, tutting disapprovingly.  "No, baby, I tell you what you can take."

"Oh— oh god, Mistress, please, please stop, please, I c-can't— fuck!"

You pulled your hand away the second his cock started to flex but it was too late: come was shooting from his swollen tip and painting his chest and stomach.  You didn't even wait until he was done to backhand him across the face.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled.  "I'm so sorry, I couldn't help it…"

You softened slightly when you heard his broken voice, saw the desperation and fear on his face— it was real, more real than the fake ‘no’s and the encouraging pleas for mercy.  "Baby, it's okay, you tried so hard," you soothed instantly.

Hope filled his eyes just as much as tears as he looked up at you.  "Am I still your good boy?"

"Always," you smiled, caressing his face where it was already turning red from your slap.  

You reached down and caressed his cock with the back of your fingers, watching it flex weakly.  

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

His lip twitched, almost like a wince.  “Do we… do we have to stop?”

You quickly glanced at the clock.  “Um, no,” you mumbled, “we still have time.  Just tell me what you want.”

“I wanna watch you come again…” he admitted softly.  “Is… is that okay?”

Although you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, you were still surprised.  “Yeah, sure.”

“But… but closer this time,” he added, “not so far away.”

You were literally laying on top of him, how did that count as far away? 

“I wanna see your face,” he clarified.

“Okay,” you nodded, deciding to indulge him.  It was sort of like aftercare, except that this wasn’t exactly the ‘after’ part yet.

On your knees beside where he was leaning back against the headboard, you slipped your hand down into the lace panties again, finding your clit still swollen but not too sensitive.  A little gasp fell from your lips when you touched it, rubbing it carefully with two fingers while he looked up at your face.  

You felt slightly exposed when he watched you this close, and you didn’t know where to look to avoid direct eye contact.  Looking at his lips was just a little too tempting, so that wouldn’t work.

“My hands are a little tired,” you explained, “they might cramp up.  Maybe I could use your thigh…”

“O-okay,” he nodded, and you removed your fingers from your panties to sit down on the thick muscle of his leg.  You felt him tense up under you slightly, and you carefully began to rock your hips until your clit rubbed just right against the inside of your underwear.  Surely he could feel how wet you were— actually, you both could hear it, almost a wet clicking-like noise as the soaked lace slid against your skin.

The dynamic shifted slightly, not that you minded it, as he watched you ride him carefully.  Just as he couldn’t hide much from you when he was naked and tied up and baring his soul to you in the kinkiest way possible, you couldn’t hide your pleasure from him when he was looking at your face so up-close.  You let your hands carefully roam his body, narrowly avoiding the trails of cooling come he’d left on his stomach and chest, until you found his strong shoulders and held onto them for balance.

“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, biting your lip as your sore clit throbbed against his hard, muscular thigh.  

“Will you… could you kiss me?” he requested quietly, and your heart broke a little bit.  You shook your head, and he nodded in understanding.

“I’ll kiss you here,” you offered instead, whispering against his skin before you pressed your lips to his forehead, then his cheek, then his jaw.  “Is that better, James?”

“It helps,” he agreed in a sigh.  

“I’m close,” you warned quietly, pressing your cheek to his and weaving one hand into his hair.  “I’m gonna come again, on your thigh.”

“Let me touch you,” he begged, “just a little, please…”

You nodded, about to reach forward to untie one of his hands, but he snapped the ropes and you had totally forgotten he could do that.  He quickly ran his touch all over your body, calloused hands and bound wrists in stark contrast to your soft skin.  The metal one was a little cold but it didn’t bother you; the other was almost too hot, and it was like being warmed and cooled all at once.

He ran his fingers down your spine, he gripped one of your shoulders, he rubbed your legs: he did everything he must have been wishing he could do this whole time, even gasping as he ran one hand up your chest and over a cup of your bra.  Just as you sensed that he was about to ask if he could touch you there, you nodded and felt his metal hand tug down the red lace and grab your breast— thankfully not very hard, though he did give your nipple a quick pinch which made you gasp.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he finally settled his hands on holding your hips, just tight enough to slightly guide your movements as you rocked faster and more desperately.  “Please come,” he begged weakly, “Mistress, please… use me.”

It sort of hit you all at once then, like a punch to the gut.  Except, you know, a lot more fun than getting punched in the gut.

“James,” you gasped, legs quivering where they straddled his as a new patch of slick soaked the lace (and presumably his thigh as well).  He held you tight, kept you moving through it while your fingers tangled in his hair and your mouth fell slack for another, louder moan.

The way his lips moved over your skin, laving your collarbones and pulse point and the innermost corner of your jaw, was positively worshipful; reverent.  “Mistress,” he whispered, almost sounding like praise but tinted with awe.  Your movements slowed down to a stop and the two of you breathed a sigh together, unintentionally.  “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“What for?” you asked, blinking quickly and looking down at him, coming back to reality (though you weren’t quite sure where else it was that you had just been).

“I dunno, everything,” he decided.

“Don’t thank me,” you smiled.  “Keep paying me, though.”

He laughed a little, glancing away.  “Yeah, and I’ll pay you back for these ropes… sorry."

"No, hey, don't be sorry," you dismissed, getting up off of his leg and standing up to go grab a towel for him.  "I'm just sorry we still haven't found anything strong enough to hold you."

"It's fine, they're strong enough to make me stop myself when I want to do something I shouldn't, that's all that really matters."

You nodded to yourself as you dampened the towel and came back to wipe him off.

"I can do that for myself," he reminded you, sounding a bit embarrassed, but you thought it was sweet. 

“You just focus on getting those ropes off of yourself,” you decided with a little smile.

[freakbabyy]

see you in hell

chapter one

eddie munson x reader, steve harrington x reader, billy hargrove x reader

cross posted on AO3

i’m posting a new chapter every thursday, so by the time we hit 100 chapters, it’ll be 4 July 2024, and the new season will most likely be out :)

Alright, that’s the last of it. I put down the last box, and looked around.

“Sorry that the room’s not exactly ready, yet. It took a while to move stuff, and paint. Especially with it being summer. I couldn’t get Dusty to stay inside for an hour, and when he was inside, I had to go to work.”

I smiled at the gesture, and dragged the last of my boxes through the carpeted hall and to the door at the end of the hall, across from a few similar-looking doors.

“Don’t worry about it, mom. My room at dads was about half the size of this room. It means a lot for you to do all of this for me, though. I hope it wasn’t too expensive…?”

Mom waved her hand around, making a gesture saying it was no big deal. I put the heavy boxes down before wrapping my arms around the stout woman, sighing at the smell which reminded me of baked goods.

“I’ll leave you be, for now, honey. School starts next week, don’t forget! I have a couple of bucks your father slipped me before we left for you to buy some supplies, too. I’ll be in the other room if you need anything.”

The door shut with a small click before I finally took a glance around the room. The carpet was freshly vacuumed, and the walls smelled freshly painted. When it was about to rain, the blue walls reminded me of the sky. A few bedroom furnishings were already in the room, stacked in the corner for me to figure out how to arrange them later. The door on the wall led to a small closet, which had a few shelves built into it.

I guess I should start by rearranging the furniture. I pushed the bed against the wall in the corner, with a small table beside it. The dresser was pushed to the opposite wall, with a desk and chair in the corner still. The furniture all had a few bumps and scrapes on it, but I didn’t mind. It gave the room character.

I opened one of my heavy boxes and began the dreading journey which would include putting everything away while also trying not to cry thinking about my dad. He was a good guy, eccentric, but a good guy. He home-schooled me my whole life, while also picking up odd jobs when he could to provide for us.

My mom and dad were together for a few years, but when I was about three and Dustin was almost one they split up. Mom got Dustin when he was still a baby, and I got dad. Of course, they tried to make things work with co-parenting, but it just didn’t work out. I didn’t mind, though. We always had holidays together as families, and in the summer we would always go back and forth.

“Agents of Fortune, or Holy Diver?” I asked myself while pulling out the two worn cassettes,

I ultimately decided on Agents of Fortune just to listen to Don’t Fear The Reaper, my dad, and I’s favorite song. The familiar tune played as I popped it into the boombox before going back to unpacking.

Considering I only had about five boxes, I finished unpacking in record time. The closet held a few pairs of shirts and jacket and the dresser held a few bras, panties, and a couple of pairs of jeans. I didn’t mind not having a lot of things; I knew I found all of them at thrift stores with my dad throughout the years.

Dad always supported every fresh interest I had, and I was always grateful for that knowing not all parents were like that. He put together a net after buying a soccer ball for me. When I wanted to try playing the piano, he paid for piano lessons for me, even if it had costed more than we could afford. He shaved his own when I wanted to shave my head. When I wanted a tattoo, he went, and we got tattoos together.

He was the best dad I could have ever asked for. Even if it meant having to send me to live with my mom, I knew he was doing it so he could save money and buy a house, and get a steady job, too.

“Y/N? Honey, do you mind if I come in?”

“Sure, I’m done unpacking already.”

The door cracked open as she peeked through, before stepping through fully and looking around. She smiled a bit before pointing at the boombox,

“You know, Dusty has the same cassette. He loves it, never stops playing it.”

“Speaking of the devil, where is he?”

“Oh, he’s over at his friends’ house. I was coming to ask you to get him, dinner’s almost ready. You still like lasagna, right?”

“I love it, mom. But, yeah, I can go get him. Whose house is he at?”

“Oh, I think it’s Mike’s? If you go down the road, take a left, then when you see Piney Wood Lane, you’ll follow that road until you get to house number 2530. Do you drive yet, sweetie?”

I briefly thought back to dad trying to teach me to drive. With backing up, parking, or anything else, it was a disaster. I had recently taken out our mailbox trying to park, and ever since I hadn’t attempted.

“No, the last time I tried, I murdered our mailbox. I wouldn’t recommend it. But I have these,”

I went to my closet before pulling out the old torn-up box which held my babies. They were a pair of roller skates, but not just any roller skates. They were velveted black booted roller skates. The wheels were a deep red, which resembled blood.

“Those are nice, honey.” Mom said, watching as I pulled them onto my feet before lacing them back up, grabbing my helmet from beside the box, as well as a small backpack, which held my Walkman.

I turned the boombox off, before popping in the cassette to my Walkman. I put my headphones on before slipping my helmet on, as mom gave a kiss to my cheek as I made my way out the door,

“Be careful! Love you!”

I shouted back Love you, before starting my way down the road, glad about it being downhill. Hawkins, Indiana wasn’t that different from where dad lived, it looked the same, anyway. Lots of trees, scarcely populated, and quiet.

“Piney Wood Lane!” I turned my feet so I’d make my way down the street, which turned into a suburb. A suburb in the middle of the forest? Odd.

A few kids played outside, but few considering it was nearly dinnertime. A few were on their bikes making their way home, most likely.

The Wheeler's house had a mailbox with their name engraved in it. The house itself had a fairly big yard, where four bikes were in a pile. It was two stories and looked like it also had an attic. I couldn’t imagine what the mortgage must be.

I knocked on the front door, taking my helmet and Walkman off before I heard someone yell that they were coming. The door swung open and a middle-aged woman was standing before me; she had brunette hair which was permed, with matching brown eyes. She was actually really pretty, especially with the kind smile she offered.

“Hi, how can I help you dear?”

“Oh, I’m here to pick up my brother, Dustin. My mom said he would be here.”

Her face lit up, before she opened the door wider, welcoming me inside. The inside of the house was just as extravagant as the outside. Pairs of shoes were on the side of the door, and I noticed the floors were all carpeted, so I had taken off my roller skates, not wanting to ruin the carpet.

“You must be Y/N, Dustin’s been talking about you all summer. He’s very excited. I think they’re almost done with their session of Dungeons and Dragons if you want to wait up here.”

“That would be great, thank yo,u Mrs. Wheeler.”

“Oh please, call me Karen. Make yourself at home, My husband Ted is in the family room with Holly, and my oldest is upstairs. Nancy! Could you come here for a moment?”

Ted seemed to be older than Karen and had glasses similar to my dad's. A small toddler was on the floor playing with some toys, and she looked up curiously hearing her mom speak. I waved a bit at her, to which she shy’d away. I stuck my hand out for Ted, introducing myself, as he shook my hand, mentioning something about ‘finally someone with manners’ before I heard footsteps coming downstairs,

“Nancy, this is Dustin’s older sister, Y/N. The boys are finishing up downstairs and then dinner will be ready.”

Nancy had big brown doe eyes, which reminded me of her mother and matching brown curly hair. Her clothes were pastel-colored and were a big difference from my ripped jeans and The Cramps t-shirt. She stuck her hand out and offered a smile,

“I’m Nancy, Dustin’s talked about you all summer. Honestly, I’m glad you’re here finally so he’ll shut up about it.”

I shook her hand, not quite knowing how to respond. I can thank dad for homeschooling me my whole life for my terrible social skills.

“Hi. Uh, yeah. I’m glad to be here, too.”

“So are you a sophomore, too? You’ll be going to Hawkins High with me.”

“Yeah, but I’m a Junior,” I nodded, “I’m really nervous, actually.”

“Don’t be, everyone’s nice, mainly. You can hang out with me and my friend Barb. Jonathan, Will’s older brother goes there, too. It’s really just like any other high school.”

“Oh, they homeschooled me my whole life.”

“That’s alright, I can show you around. Plus, I can help you with studying, too.”

The conversation ended abruptly when thundering footsteps were heard making their way up the stairs before four loud voices joined them.

“That campaign was wicked, Mike! How did you even come up with that stuff?”

“Yeah, really! When the ware-bear showed up, I almost peed my pants!”

“I can’t believe that-”

They cut the conversation short when Dustin’s sentence was cut off by him stopping where he was, grinning so wide his eyes crinkled, and then bursting forward with energy as if he had just done a line of cocaine, before nearly toppling me over.

“Y/N! You’re here! I thought you were coming next week!”

“Surprise?”

The curly-haired 11-year-old turned around and showed his smile off while gesturing to the taller girl beside him,

“This is my sister, Y/N! Y/N, this is the party. That’s Will, Lucas, and Mike.”

The boys all started talking at once again, and I glanced at Nancy who had an amused smile, who leaned over to me to whisper,

“They do this all the time.”

Karen interrupted this time, saying that it was almost time for dinner, so the boys all better head home before their parents got worried. On the way out I had told everyone goodbye, before putting my skates on, as Dustin grabbed his bike from the pile.

“See you later, guys!” The boys all wished each other goodbye, before going in separate ways.

“When did you get here?” Dustin asked on the way home,

“Around lunchtime, I was unpacking the entire afternoon.”

“And you didn’t get me sooner?!” Dustin nearly shouted, clutching a hand to his chest while making puppy dog eyes. I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from my chest, as I squeezed his cheek with my hand, which he slapped away.

“I’ll be here all year, dude. Maybe even longer. It all depends on dad.”

“So he’s working right now?

“Yep. We were running low on money, and I offered to come to live with you guys until he had enough money to support the both of us. He wants to buy a house, too. I’m trying to convince him to move here in Hawkins.”

“That would be so cool!”

Luckily the way home had a hill, so we had gotten home a lot faster than it took for me to get there. Walking inside the door, we were both met with the delicious smell of home-cooking. I looked down at the feeling of something on my leg,

“Aw!” I crouched down, picking up the golden cat, before snuggling it.

“That’s Mews, he’s practically our sibling with all the love mom gives him.”

I laughed before kissing his head and setting him back down, before ushering Dustin to my room,

“Where are you two off to? Dinner’s ready!”

“We’ll be right there, Mom! I’m just showing Dustin Mew’s new friend!”

Dustin gasped as I opened the door, leading him inside before closing the door, walking over to the one end of my room which held a cage about my height, I grabbed a bottle of hand sanitizer before passing some to Dustin after grabbing some myself.

“What is that?”

I only smiled, picking up the house inside, scooping the small creature out, before turning around, presenting the small fluff ball, as Dustin’s eyes lit up, as he had a face of pure awe.

“This is Galadriel, and she’s a chinchilla! She’s been waiting to meet you for a while! Do you want to hold her?”

Dustin nodded before sitting on my bed, holding his hands out, as I put her down in his hands, to which she turned and looked at him, moving her nose around before making a small noise, and hopped onto the bed, before hopping around Dustin, even hopping on him, as Dustin kept giggling.

“What’s she doing?”

“She’s dancing! Well, she’s hopping. It means she’s happy, she’s even chittering! I’m glad she likes you. Mews isn’t too sure of her, yet.”

“She’s so cute. I’m literally in love with this little dude.”

“C’mon, I can bring her back out after dinner, I don’t want mom to get mad at us.”

Dustin nodded, before picking her up and giving her a light hug, before handing her back. I scratched her little head behind her big ears, and set her back in her hammock in her cage, to go back to bed.

“Can I show her the party one day!?” Dustin asked, on the way to the table.

“Sure, I’ll be here.” I winked before settling in for dinner.

At home I didn’t have many home-cooked meals, I was used to takeout and noodle cups. Dad knew how to cook, we just couldn’t afford it. Though, I suppose this is my new home.

99 weeks left until season 5 :)

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