#and makes one wonder about some things like whether something is escaping me or if really that's the state of things out there
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fragmentedblade · 1 year ago
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#Honestly don't get people who follow me here and even less so that interact semi steadily with my posts#I literally don't follow myself on this sideblog lol#Thanks though. It feels a bit validating haha#I feel my overall opinions are so unpopular in the general fandom that I never end up writing them down for safekeeping#because I would want to find them in my own blog but with tumblr's tagging system that would mean them potentially reaching other people#and thus potentially getting blocked by blogs‚ and as a consequence not getting to see many posts I would love#So yeah it feels like a cordial *pat pat* at times#I am never really insecure at all about my reading capabilities because that's my whole thing but it does feel lonely somewhat#and makes one wonder about some things like whether something is escaping me or if really that's the state of things out there#And lonely even in the mere appreciation of dynamics‚concepts‚ characters‚ motifs‚...that are often dismissed almost entirely by the fandom#This post and this rambling has no telos really#Just how baffling I find to have people follow this blog and even like my posts#And how baffling too the realisation that it can be kind of sweet#Like that line of Benedick '(...) is not that strange?' and Beatrice's reply 'As strange as'#I reread that play yesterday night and truly that line is amazing. One of the love confessions of all time. I love their dynamic#And still is the active/passive roles linked to gender‚ bastardy and the assertion of one's existence and life#in the characters of Hero and don John which always obsess me the most about it#Ahfksjkd but I'm rambling again. If anywhere at all I should write those thoughts on my main blog. Definitely not here#I talk too much#As usual#I should probably delete this later#How do I always end up rambling and about things barely or straight up absolutely unrelated to the initial topic? Ugh#I can't even begin to tell how annoying I am in my first language
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insertdisc5 · 11 months ago
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🎮 HEY I WANNA MAKE A GAME! 🎮
Yeah I getcha. I was once like you. Pure and naive. Great news. I AM STILL PURE AND NAIVE, GAME DEV IS FUN! But where to start?
To start, here are a couple of entry level softwares you can use! source: I just made a game called In Stars and Time and people are asking me how to start making vidy gaems. Now, without further ado:
SOFTWARES AND ENGINES FOR PEOPLE WHO DON'T KNOW HOW TO CODE!!!
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Ren'py (and also a link to it if you click here do it): THE visual novel software. Comic artists, look no further ✨Pros: It's free! It's simple! It has great documentation! It has a bunch of plugins and UI stuff and assets for you to buy! It can be used even if you have LITERALLY no programming experience! (You'll just need to read the doc a bunch) You can also port your game to a BUNCH of consoles! ✨Cons: None really <3 Some games to look at: Doki Doki Literature Club, Bad End Theater, Butterfly Soup
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Twine: Great for text-based games! GREAT FOR WRITERS WHO DONT WANNA DRAW!!!!!!!!! (but you can draw if you want) ✨Pros: It's free! It's simple! It's versatile! It has great documentation! It can be used even if you have LITERALLY no programming experience! (You'll just need to read the doc a bunch) ✨Cons: You can add pictures, but it's a pain. Some games to look at: The Uncle Who Works For Nintendo, Queers In love At The End of The World, Escape Velocity
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Bitsy: Little topdown games! ✨Pros: It's free! It's simple! It's (somewhat) intuitive! It has great documentation! It can be used even if you have LITERALLY no programming experience! You can make everything in it, from text to sprites to code! Those games sure are small! ✨Cons: Those games sure are small. This is to make THE simplest game. Barely any animation for your sprites, can barely fit a line of text in there. But honestly, the restrictions are refreshing! Some games to look at: honestly I haven't played that many bitsy games because i am a fake gamer. The picture above is from Under A Star Called Sun though and that looks so pretty
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RPGMaker: To make RPGs! LIKE ME!!!!! NOTE: I recommend getting the latest version if you can, but all have their pros and cons. You can get a better idea by looking at this post. ✨Pros: Literally everything you need to make an RPG. Has a tutorial inside the software itself that will teach you the basics. Pretty simple to understand, even if you have no coding experience! Also I made a post helping you out with RPGMaker right here! ✨Cons: Some stuff can be hard to figure out. Also, the latest version is expensive. Get it on sale! Some games to look at: Yume Nikki, Hylics, In Stars and Time (hehe. I made it)
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engine.lol: collage worlds! it is relatively new so I don't know much about it, but it seems fascinating. picture is from Garden! NOTE: There's a bunch of smaller engines to find out there. Just yesterday I found out there's an Idle Game Maker made by the Cookie Clicker creator. Isn't life wonderful?
✨more advice under the cut. this is Long ok✨
ENGINES I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT AND THEY SEEM HARD BUT ALSO GIVE IT A TRY I GUESS!!!! :
Unity and Unreal: I don't know anything about those! That looks hard to learn! But indie devs use them! It seems expensive! Follow your dreams though! Don't ask me how!
GameMaker: Wuh I just don't know anything about it either! I just know it's now free if your game is non-commercial (aka, you're not selling it), and Undertale was made on it! It seems good! You probably need some coding experience though!!!
Godot: Man I know even less about this one. Heard good things though!
BUNCHA RANDOM ADVICE!!!!
-Make something small first! Try making simple: a character is in a room, and exits the room. The character can look around, decide to take an item with them, can leave, and maybe the door is locked and you have to find the key. Figuring out how to code something like that, whether it is as a fully text-based game or as an RPGMaker map, should be a good start to figure out how your software of choice works!
-After that, if you have an idea, try first to make the simplest version of that idea. For my timeloop RPG, my simplest version was two rooms: first room you can walk in, second room with the King, where a cutscene automatically plays and the battle starts, you immediately die, and loop back to the first room, with the text from this point on reflecting this change. I think I also added a loop counter. This helped me figure out the most important thing: Can This Game Be Made? After that, the rest is just fun stuff. So if you want to make a dating sim, try and figure out how to add choices, and how to have affection points go up and down depending on your choices! If you want to make a platformer, figure out how to make your character move and jump and how to create a simple level! If you just want to make a kinetic visual novel with no choices, figure out how to add text, and how to add portraits! You'll be surprised at how powerful you'll feel after having figured even those simple things out.
-If you have a programming problem or just get confused, never underestimate the power of asking Google! You most likely won't be the only person asking this question, and you will learn some useful tips! If you are powerful enough, you can even… Ask people??? On forums??? Not me though.
-Yeah I know you probably want to make Your Big Idea RIGHT NOW but please. Make a smaller prototype first. You need to get that experience. Trust me.
-If you are not a womanthing of many skills like me, you might realize you need help. Maybe you need an artist, or a programmer. So! Game jams on itch.io are a great way to get to work and meet other game devs that have different strengths! Or ask around! Maybe your artist friend secretly always wanted to draw for a game. Ask! Collaborate! Have fun!!!
I hope that was useful! If it was. Maybe. You'd like to buy me a coffee. Or maybe you could check out my comics and games. Or just my new critically acclaimed game In Stars and Time. If you want. Ok bye
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ithebookhoarder · 7 months ago
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Could you write an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader fic? They are newly weds and the reader wishes to pamper Anthony while he is bathing. He’s a bit cautious about it at first because he is not used to such affection. Thank youu I love your writing a lot especially the truth or dare fic.
In Your Hands (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)
A/N: First of all, thank you so much! And I hope you like this. Thanks for sending this ask in, luckily I was already toying with a few Bridgerton ideas thanks to the new trailers so this came surprisingly easy.
Also, if any of you guys enjoy my work, or just feel like it, then consider buying me a cup of coffee here: https://ko-fi.com/ithebookhoarder ☕️
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Warnings: Nudity references, the start of sexy-times, alcohol 
Masterlist
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Anthony was someone who hated routine. After all, as much as he was devoted to the day to day duties that came with being the head of his family, if he had his way he would escape the city and the ton, choosing instead the peace and tranquility offered by the countryside, at Aubrey Hall. He dreamed of being able to be just a brother, son and - as of recently - a husband. 
Only married a few months, your new husband was keen to seize each and every opportunity to escape his duties when they appeared - whether it was sneaking off for long rides in the countryside, or making an early exit from whatever social gathering you both had been forced to attend as the new Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton; Whatever allowed you both to be alone and back in one another’s arms (usually sans clothes) as soon as possible, was a good idea to him. 
It was no surprise then, that there was one part of his daily routine that Anthony actually relished: bathing. 
Oh, yes. There was little more in the world that could bring your fully-grown husband such child-like joy as being able to soak in a tub of steaming hot water for an hour or two. The sight always made you smile as you entered your bedroom: Anthony, half asleep, looking as if the stress had physically melted away. 
It was your favourite sight - and not just because of the exquisite view it granted you of his sculpted form - but because of how calm and peaceful he looked. It was as if he had transformed back into the mischievous and carefree boy you’d first fallen in love with all those years ago. Back when your only concerns had been not tripping on your skirt at your presentation, making sure you were actually asked to dance at a ball, and surviving the social season without embarrassing your family or getting yourself roped into some scandal. 
Whilst you knew neither you nor Anthony would ever change a single thing about your life together, you knew it came with a cost. In fact, today it had been enduring hours of talks with local tenants, the family’s book keeper, estate managers, and even several possible suitors looking to secure some kind of marriage contract with one of his younger sisters. (You’d been informed by several members of the household staff that those meetings had been remarkably swift, however, with each unfortunate man looking rather dejected as they were shown from the house). 
If you’d been able to spare him the pain or share his burden you would have, but unfortunately you’d been occupied with matters of your own. Being the lady of such a grand estate came with duties of its own, and you were quite done looking over seating arrangements, replying to correspondence, and paying social calls for one day.  
Still, at least you’d both survived to tell the tale - no wonder Anthony looked half asleep. Then again, maybe it had something to do with the open bottle of whiskey that sat on the table beside the tub. You knew without looking at the label which bottle it was, having smuggled it out of the library yourself to enjoy together. 
“Anthony Bridgerton!” A fake gasp of horror escaped your lips as you appeared in the doorway, a hand pressed to your chest. “You are a sneak and a traitor. That whiskey was for me too, you know.”
“And a good evening to you too, my love. Never fear, there’s plenty to share,” he teased, head relaxed, tipped backward as he took a sip from the glass in his hand. Your eyes were transfixed on the hollow of his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Besides, I would apologise but I simply couldn’t wait a minute longer. Not when I couldn’t feel my back from sitting at that desk all afternoon.”
The moan that escaped his lips was almost sinful as he sank a little lower in the water.  
“Well, you’re forgiven. You look far too content for me to even dream of being mad,” you sighed, drawing close and perching on the rim of the tub. Anthony handed over the whiskey glass with a soft smile, letting you take a sip of your own before you placed it back onto the table. 
You could feel the warmth seep into your bones immediately, even if that was also likely in part to your proximity to the tub and your naked husband. 
“Do you want me to wash your hair?”
Anthony’s eyebrows rose at the question, the surprise written across his face. “What?”
“You heard me,” you teased, reaching up to run your fingers through the soft strands of hair atop his head. “I can wash your hair, and get your back for you. Unless you’d rather do it yourself, or I can ring for someone?”
“What? No, that’s uh, that’s not necessary,” he chuckled, visibly flustered - which was amusing and perplexing. After all, it wasn’t as if you two hadn’t seen and touched every single inch of the other in the weeks since your wedding. However, he looked almost confused at the idea that you would offer such a thing. “You don’t have to do that.”
“But I want to,” you soothed. “Let me take care of you, for once. Husband.”
It was probably below the belt to purr his title like that, but you knew how that one little word had the power to reduce the great Viscount Bridgerton to a puddle. That, along with the warmth of the water and the buzz of the whiskey, made him almost pliant to your every whim. Still, you knew him well enough to recognise the lingering hesitation in his eyes as he nodded in agreement. 
He very rarely let his guard down or allowed anyone to assist him in any way. You sometimes believed that had the servants not been dependant upon their work to make a living that Anthony would have dismissed them long ago and tried to run the entire estate single handedly just to prove he could. That he was worthy of the title he bore, and that he was every bit as great a man, brother, and husband as his father. 
It appeared he was the same way when it came to letting himself be taken care of and it made your heart ache for the man you loved. 
Pressing a triumphant kiss to his lips, you swiftly manoeuvred yourself, pulling up a stool and grabbing a jug from the dresser.  
“Just relax… trust me,” you murmured, waiting until he did as he was bid. The gesture alone said volumes, more so than any words ever could. 
Waiting until his eyes were shut, you reached for the soap, tilting his head against your chest as you began to massage the mixture into his scalp. Yet again, your husband seemed to transform into a cat, purring with every touch in a way that made it suddenly very difficult to resist the urge to strip off and join your husband in the water instead. 
“Enjoying yourself?” You giggled as Anthony barely managed more than a groan in reply. 
It was taking every ounce of your self control to focus your attentions solely on Anthony, and not on the way his body seemed to be reacting to your ministrations. Thankfully, you were able to last long enough to finish the job, using the jug to rinse the water through his hair, making sure to angle his head upwards so the water ran off him instead of into his eyes. 
But you were only human; the minute you were done washing the last suds from his scalp you made your move. Sliding off the stool, you knelt beside him and reached out to caress his cheek, causing him to open his eyes almost sleepily. Leaning forward you planted a soft, delicate kiss to his lips, causing him to groan in response.
Without saying a word, his hands rose, twisting their way into your hair as he deepened his kiss. It was clear what he wanted next. 
“Now, wife,” he growled, pulling back just long enough to reach down and tug teasingly at the tie of your dress-robe. You could feel the warmth of his touch as his wet body began to dampen the material. “I think it’s your turn to let me take care of you… so you’d better get in here, before I drag you in here.”
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gyummigon · 1 year ago
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☆ txt when you stain the bed because of your period
txt!reader
୨୧ word count:  2.5k  ୨୧ genre:  fluff, angust ୨୧ a/n: inglish is not my native language, so sorry in advance.
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˗ˏˋ yeonjun ˎˊ˗
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You were in the middle of a fit of despair when Yeonjun entered the room. He had intended to surprise you by bringing you breakfast in bed before you woke up, but stopped when he saw you standing in the middle of the room, awake and about to burst into tears.
"Oh, good morning," he greeted, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he sensed the panic with which you looked at him. Slowly, he scanned the room with eyes wider than usual, but his brow furrowed even more when he found nothing out of the ordinary. "Why are you standing there, is something wrong?"
You shook your head, glancing sideways at the red stain that had awakened you in horror that morning. You hadn't even had time to clean the mess off your clothes, and you hated the fact that you couldn't move without risking your boyfriend seeing the worst of you. Even though you knew that Yeonjun wouldn't judge you for such a thing, you couldn't suppress the desire to disappear and send your soul to the other side of the world.
Yeonjun read your body language and the gesture did not go unnoticed, he approached you curiously, craning his neck to see what was troubling you. "Heh," he exclaimed as he looked at the unexpected red circle painted over the spot where you had been sleeping minutes before. "Is that...?"
You let out an embarrassed groan and looked down at the floor, your face flushed. "I'm sorry," you whispered and squeezed your legs together, suddenly feeling exposed and completely vulnerable.
Yeonjun let out a soft laugh as he placed the tray of food on the bedside table and walked over to you with a gentle smile. "Oh, did that wake you, dear?" he murmured, leaning down to massage your shoulders. "It's just a little blood, no big deal. Let me clean it up for you."
Without another word he turned and started to remove the sheets from the bed, his movements were calm and he didn't seem to be affected by your little accident in the least. This for some reason made you feel even more embarrassed and you remained unable to look away from him, not knowing whether to apologize again or take advantage of the fact that his back was turned to escape to the bathroom. When he noticed that you didn't move, Yeonjun stopped and looked at you over his shoulder. "Go ahead and get cleaned up, I'll be here if you need anything."
"It's okay, I'm sure you're disgusted, I'll do it myself." You said and moved to take the sheet out of his hands, but Yeonjun stepped back.
"It doesn't gross me out," he replied, shaking his head with a flirtatious smile. "God, you're so cute."
"But I..."
Yeonjun put his finger to his lips, signaling you to shut up and stop talking. "You really should get cleaned up and changed," he murmured as he turned around and finished removing the sheets. His words were delivered with a smile, his tone soft and reassuring. "I'll have the bed clean before you've had a chance to finish showering, then we'll have a nice breakfast."
˗ˏˋ soobin ˎˊ˗
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"Oh my God," Soobin's face turned bright red as he looked at the stain on the bed and on your shorts. He had just woken up, he was still half asleep and had a hard time processing what had happened.
Your body was lying next to him, your face buried in the pillow that covered part of your face as you slept. You didn't seem to be aware of the situation. One of your arms was draped over your head, giving you a very calm and peaceful appearance. He couldn't allow you to continue sleeping in this state, but he knew how sensitive you were to this kind of accident, so he thought twice before making any move.
"Woah, this... " He stood up carefully, not wanting to alarm you. He stood still for a moment, wondering how to make it look like he didn't care that you were having your period in bed. Should he wake you up, say good morning, or let you sleep on? I had no idea how to handle such a situation.
You slowly opened your eyes as you felt him shake your shoulders. "Are you okay?" Soobin murmured, his voice still hoarse and tired. He looked down at the stains again, unable to help himself. "You had a little accident, honey."
"What?" you asked, your eyes still watery from sleep. With a look of confusion on your face, you looked down at the stained sheets and quickly understood what had happened, but felt too ashamed and embarrassed to say anything coherent right away. "I... oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't think I'd be starting again so soon. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll change the sheets right away."
Soobin couldn't help but laugh a little when he saw how embarrassed you were. Anyway, he gave you a kiss on the cheek and cuddled you a little against his chest to comfort you before helping you out of bed. "It's okay, I promise. I'm not mad at you. It's totally normal. I'll change the sheets and then I can make you some tea."
"L-let me help you!" You exclaimed as Soobin began to remove the sheets and blankets from the bed, revealing the stain under the mattress. You froze at the sight of the blood on the mattress and felt your stomach drop. "Oh my God," you muttered, staring at the stain. "Is the mattress ruined?"
"Hey, don't worry, really," Soobin said again, trying to sound reassuring. But seeing your embarrassment made him nervous, and he didn't know how to handle the situation. He tried to focus on the task at hand. "Let me wash the sheets and we'll see what we can do..." He grabbed the sheets from the bed and headed for the laundry room, giving you room to process what had happened.
˗ˏˋ beomgyu ˎˊ˗
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"Beomgyu, stay out of the room," you shouted as you looked at the sheets with an expression of pure horror. You knew something was wrong when you woke up with the familiar stabbing pain in your belly, at first you went into denial and refused to believe that the wetness you felt between your legs was a product of your period, but when you got out of bed and saw the blood stained sheets, you took it for granted that this was going to be a very, very long day.
At least you were lucky that Beomgyu was in the bathroom and not in the bedroom when you woke up. But if only he'd listen to you for once.....
"What, why, I'm coming in."
"I told you to stay outside," you repeated as you saw him enter the room. You shivered slightly and couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the thought of someone seeing the mess and stain on your sheets. Beomgyu came over and stood next to you, showing her surprise at seeing the red stain on the bed.
"Woah, that... that's a big one. Did that really come from you?"
You gave him a nasty look, the embarrassment more than you could bear. You wanted him to go away, to leave the room, but you knew Beomgyu well enough to know how unlikely that would be.
"Yes, it's... it's from me," you whispered. "It's... it's my period," you added embarrassed and Beomgyu looked at you as if you were a stranger.
"I know, silly," he laughed and reached up to ruffle your hair, giving you a playful smile. "I can't believe Missy made such a mess," he joked, walking over to the edge of the bed. "Anyway, let's get this cleaned up. I doubt you want a permanent stain on this fancy bed."
Your face turned red at his teasing. You examined your stained sheets and felt your eyes fill with tears for no reason. "Please, Beomgyu, go away. Please, I'll clean up by myself."
"Hey, hey, relax, what's the big deal? It's no big deal, I swear. Leave it to me, I'll take care of it," he replied, now in a lighter and friendlier tone.
The embarrassment you felt about your body and the fact that your menstruation had made itself known in such a way faded as you saw the compassion and naturalness with which Beomgyu looked at you. You nodded weakly and silently thanked her.
"Am I not an adult?" he muttered to himself as he took the wet sheets and wrapped them in his arms. You tried to approach him to help him, but Beomgyu waved you away with his hands. "No, no, no, go take a shower and come back later. I'll take this and..." He paused and leaned over to take a closer look at the stain that had also been left on the mattress.
"Oh, that..."
"Wait, wait, wait," he interrupted, turning to look at you with a smile that, instead of reassuring you, made you nervous. "Don't worry about the stain. I'll turn the mattress over and no one will notice." He bent down and grabbed the corner of the mattress, ready to lift it up and flip it over, but stopped when he noticed you looking at him in horror.
"Okay miss, time to take a shower while I do my job," he said and walked over to you. Smiling, he put his arm around your shoulder and led you out of the room. "Come on, my little mess maker."
˗ˏˋ taehyun ˎˊ˗
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"Are you okay?" Taehyun asked in a hoarse voice, opening one eye to look at the clock. It was 4 am and he could hear you pacing frantically around the room, muttering curses under your breath. He heard you approach the bed and took the opportunity to go back to sleep, but it wasn't more than ten seconds before your silence startled him. "Y/n?"
"Everything's fine. But..." You groaned and struggled with how to explain the little surprise painted on the sheets, staring at his back in panic and swallowing saliva. It was the first time this had happened to you in his presence and you didn't know how to handle the situation the way it should have been handled.
When Taehyun saw that you didn't continue talking, he turned to you and you silently pointed at the spot next to him. He followed the direction of your finger and looked quickly into your eyes, trying to hide his surprise and not make you feel more embarrassed than you seemed to be.
"I guess this was unplanned," he said calmly, as if talking to himself. "We'll have to clean that up."
Your cheeks turned bright red and you did your best not to let the intensity of his gaze affect you. Taehyun's newly awakened eyes made it harder and you couldn't think of the right words to say, so you just nodded silently.
He mimicked your action. After getting out of bed and putting on a t-shirt, he turned back to you and looked at the stain out of the corner of his eye. "It's no big deal though," he said, giving you a small smile. "No need to be embarrassed about a perfectly normal biological function."
"Thanks, but actually I can do it myself," you replied in a whisper, the thought of him having to clean up your mess making you very uncomfortable.
"I know you can," Taehyun said, still speaking in a calm, neutral tone. "But I'll do it myself." He bent down to pick up the sheets, his movements quick and efficient as he left the room. After a few minutes he returned with clean sheets and a damp cloth, which he used to clean the stain on the mattress. He worked in silence, his face still sleepy.
Without even knowing how to speak, you approached him and left a gentle touch on his back. "I'm... going to take a shower. I'm sorry and... thank you."
"There's nothing to be sorry for," he replied without turning to look at you. He stood in front of the mattress for a few more seconds, quietly wiping the stain and putting the clean sheets back on the bed. After a moment he looked up and said, "You should take a shower. I'll be done before you know it."
˗ˏˋ huening kai ˎˊ˗
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When Kai saw the look on your face when you saw him, the enthusiasm with which he entered the room faded. You were leaning over the bed, trying to pull back the sheets, the stains on which made it impossible for you to sleep again this morning. The fact that your friend returned from the kitchen faster than expected prevented you from avoiding this embarrassing situation.
Kai jumped back in surprise when he realized what was going on. His eyes widened in shock as he didn't know what to say or how to react. "Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!" he said, his voice high-pitched and full of panic as he stumbled into the room. "What are we going to do? Did this come unexpectedly?"
"Yes, I'm sorry," you said in panic and embarrassment. "I'll, I'll take care of it, get out of here."
"No, no, I won't leave you!" Kai said, a mixture of exaggeration and concern in his voice. "I'll just... we'll fix it. We'll clean it up. It's okay, we'll take care of it." He began to pull the sheets off the bed, his movements frantic and unsteady as he tried to remove them quickly. Once the sheets were off, he looked down at the mattress, his eyes widening like saucers when he saw the stain.
"The damn thing's still there," you exclaimed as you looked at the scene in disbelief, your voice changing from panic to horror.
"No problem, we'll fix it. Relax," Kai said, trying to sound reassuring as he frantically searched his brain for an answer and you covered your face in embarrassment. "Let's do this, I'll clean up while you shower and when you come out, we can change the sheets," Kai continued, shaking his head. "I don't know what to say, but it's not a problem, I'm here to help you. I'll, well, I'll clean this up and you go take a shower, okay?"
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fallstaticexit · 2 months ago
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Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort
AN: Source for tarot reading
Transcript under the cut
Morgan: Ever done this before?
Nancy: Can’t say that I have.
Morgan: Are you as put off about this as that other bible thumper?
Nancy: [rolls eyes] We’re not all the same. I’m more than my faith.
Morgan: I don’t doubt that. I’m sure there’s many layers to you. Where are you from?
Nancy: Brindleton Bay.
Morgan: Really, I’m from Portridge, a small town south of the Bay. Originally.
Nancy: Yeah? So, how did you end up a Fyres?
Morgan: Great question. My mom was his secretary. Super scandalous shit, which would explain while the Royal Barbie hates my guts. He’s not a bad step dad though. Hell of lot better than my actual dad. So, your parents-
Nancy: Isn’t the probing developing a bias or something?
Morgan: Just a little small talk. So, is there a question you want answered? Perhaps, a question about your past, your present or your future?
Nancy: I-
Nancy Narrates: [I want to get forget my past. I want to survive my present. I want to escape my future. Could there really be an answer for all that in those cards]
Nancy: I don’t know...
Morgan: That’s ok. You intention will guide us.
Morgan: Pick three cards that call to you. Based on the three, we will see what the cards have to say about your past, present and future.
Nancy: And you believe in this?
Morgan: We believe what we believe in, right? You have your three?
Nancy: I think so..
Morgan: Let’s take a look.
Morgan: Your past—the Upright Fool. Innocence. Curorsity. Something new and exciting—perhaps a first love in your youth that swept you off your feet?
Nancy Narrates: [Already I hated this...]
Morgan: Your present- the Reversed Star. Insecurity. Self doubt. A loss of faith. Interesting. Perhaps a struggle with one’s own faith? Are you having any doubts, Nancy? About yourself? About your God?
Morgan: Your future- the Upright Devil. Lust. Obsession. Temptation. Could be for the material things of life, or maybe a desire of the flesh.
Nancy: [clears throat] That all seems incredibly vague.
Morgan: [grins] Does it? Your poker face could use some work. Let me ask you something. Who exactly did I remind you of? Someone from your past?
Morgan: Your silence is very telling. I have a real gift for reading people.
Nancy: I’m sure you believe you do.
Morgan: [laughs] I really do!
Morgan: Tightly wound, fidgeter. You bite the hell out of your nails, right at the skin on the tips of your fingers, unconsciously. You pick at it until it bleeds. It’s the only thing that’s keeping you tethered to your own body. The pain, that is.
Morgan: Right?
Geoffrey: You made it! And making friends! Sorry, am I interrupting girl talk?
Morgan: It’s cool, boy wonder. Want me to do your reading?
Geoffrey: Are you kidding? Of course I do!
Nancy: Actually, I think I want to g-
Geoffrey: Really quick, Nance, then I’ll walk you to your dorm!
Geoffrey: Upright Death for my future sounds kind of scary when you think about it, huh? She said it could mean profound change. Sounds promising.
Nancy: [tsks] That could mean literally anything. That whole practice strives on vagueness. You can never be wrong if you’re bound to be right.
Geoffrey: Yeah, but it’s about how you perceive it, right? It’s unique. She did yours, didn’t she? What did yours say?
Nancy: Yeah, I um, don’t remember.
Geoffrey: Maybe you can ask her again. You two seem to hit it off.
Nancy: [huffs] Please. I am not going back to that shabby bar. She’s a sham. Those cards mean nothing. It’s stupid.
Geoffrey: [sighs]
Nancy: What?
Geoffrey: [blows raspberries]
Nancy Narrates: [Truth was, I was more curious than anything]
Nancy: So. Those cards. Could they...I don’t know- tell me something that could happen in a week? Like if I asked if I’ll pass my Statistics exam?
Nancy Narrates: [I was completely captivated by this otherworldly experience, whether I’d admit it outloud or not]
Nancy Narrates: [and Morgan was always happy to indulge me]
Nancy: [whispers] So I past my exam. How does this even work? I mean, how could they know? The cards. Could you do another reading after the debate?
Nancy Narrates: [But of all the questions I did ask, there was one that burned inside me more]
[heavy metal spills into the hallway]
Morgan: [startled] Nancy?
Nancy: Is this a bad time? I know it’s late...I can come back another time. I just have so much on my mind and I can’t sleep.
Morgan: You want another reading?
Nancy: Is that ok?
Morgan: Of course it is, Nancy. Come in.
Morgan: Sorry for all the smoke. I can open a window.
Knox: Babe, who’s this? It’s not my birthday.
Morgan: [smirks] Want me to get rid of him? I can.
Knox: Hey! I’ll be quiet! Won’t even know I’m here.
Nancy: I don’t mind. I just had a question.
Nancy: Could you do a reading for someone else, even if they’re not here?
Morgan: [hums] Not really...not without their permission or their intention. Who is this person to you?
Nancy: [looks away] Someone from my past. Someone I need to forget but- I can’t.
Morgan: Did this person hurt you?
Nancy: [shakes head] If anything, I hurt them. I ruined them with my... [lowly] um, perversions. I just need to know if they’re ok. If they hate me for it.
Morgan: [softly] I see... Here’s what we’ll do. Just like before, I’ll do a three card spread.
Morgan: Set your intention. Clear your mind. Ask your question. The first card is ‘you’. The middle card is ‘them’. The third card is the relationship.
Nancy Narrates: [‘Vanessa, do you hate me?’ ‘Do you blame me?’ ‘Do you regret loving me?’ ‘Do you know that I never stopped loving you?’]
Nancy Narrates: [‘Do you know that I’m sorry?’ ‘Do you know that I miss you?’ ‘Do you know that I need you?’]
Morgan: [exhales] It says... that you are a filled with love, Nancy, even though the world around you wants to drain you of it. There’s just too much of it inside of you and your friend-
Nancy: [weakly] Vanessa.
Morgan: [smiles] Vanessa. She loves you all the same. She may be experiencing her own hurt in this world, but having loved you keeps her strong. You two brought something bright and beautiful into each other’s lives.
Morgan: You can’t rid her from your life, because she’s apart of you, and...I- I think that’s a love worth fighting for, Nancy.
Nancy: [between gulps] Right. Right, thank you. Thanks, Morgan.
Morgan: Wait, Nancy, you don’t have to leave. It’s ok-
Nancy: It’s fine. I uh- I should go.
[door clicks shut]
Knox: Uhh, did you just make all that up?
Morgan: [weakly] I don’t know why I did that..
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polarisjisung · 2 months ago
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LOVE ON THE COURT | 20 ... WITH BENEFITS??
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SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier
WARNINGS | swearing, sexual innuendos, kys/kms jokes, y/n has daddy issues for the sake of the plot
NOTES | I have no idea why this update took me so long to post I'm so sorry 😭 I don't like making chapters like this too sad (don't worry there's still gonna be some angsty chapters) but I don't want the written stuff on its own bcs that feels too espresso depresso or wtv the phrase is so this is a bit of a longer chap than usual.. anyways if ever you feel bad for y/n, don't worry you're gonna feel worse
19:21, dinner the night before
Y/n shuffles in her seat.
Jaemin greets her with a smile, and though she offers one back, that sinking feeling in her stomach doesn't seem to settle.
Suddenly now that she finds herself face to face with her once best friend, no menus in hand since they'd already given their orders, no way to avoid conversation for just a couple seconds longer, Y/n finds herself at a loss for words.
What was anyone supposed to say in this situation?
Sure a thank you would be ideal, considering Jaemin had somehow managed the impossible, but the words escaped her. Like they rested at the tip of her tongue but she lacked the drive to speak them.
It's not that y/n wasn't grateful, no, she wouldn't be here if she wasn't, in fact she didn't know what it was, what confused her so deeply that she sat there silently. Her thumbs twiddling against one another, as she stared down at the table in front of her.
There was a nagging whisper in her mind, one that cast shadows over her once clear thoughts, leaving her in that haze of uncertainty that she recognised all too well. Recently it was all she could feel around the captain.
Something about this situation in particular makes her palms sweaty and the hairs stand on her neck, every glance at Jaemin feeling like a shadow of what had once been, a reminder of how it had all been lost.
Even just sitting opposite Jaemin isn't simple.
Not at all.
It's like sitting across from a mirror that once reflected shared laughter and secrets, now distorted by fractures of lost trust and unspoken words. She supposed that was the thing about mirrors and shattering. No matter how hard you tried to glue the pieces back together, it would never quite be the same.
Perhaps that's why y/n is lousy in her attempts, grateful to Jaemin but unbothered to express it. The thought that no matter how desperately she hoped, this couldn't be restored. That there was no point in pouring energy into a friendship that would never be resolved.
"So" it's undoubtedly jaemin who breaks the silence, a soft tone to his voice, not quite as gentle as the other night but still warm "are you feeling better? like really okay?"
For a moment she wonders whether she'll break at the sound of his voice like she always had. Would she go back to that point in life where it was so easy to lie, so easy to say she was okay, so easy to pretend, in front of everyone else but never in front of him.
"I'm fine, honestly." She lies.
There's a shy sheepish smile that creeps across her lips and slightly accents her words
Jaemin hasn't seen much of her positivity be directed his way, and seeing this ignites the little hope in him that they could move on from this, from everything.
"You didn't have to work on it without me you know, it was just as much my project as it was yours and you putting in all the effort isn't fair on you."
"You did most of the preliminary stuff anyways, and I really didn't want to ask you because of the other night" Jaemin finally admits, though not willingly, his words extracted more so by her sharp stare and the cold atmosphere.
"Right..." Her attempts at changing the subject, clearly in vain— he really needed to stop asking about the other night. Y/n wasn't sure how much h longer she could hold back the tears, the looming feeling of inadequacy as a guardian still strong. She should have been more careful.
She knows its her turn to speak, opening her mouth to do so.
But again, y/n struggles.
The words play hide and seek in her mind, leaving her to grasp at empty. The atmosphere grows heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Her mind races, a jumble of what to say, thoughts of how easy conversation once was, how effortless it had been, all such a stark contrast to now.
Jaemin watches, a mix of intrigue and concern in his eyes as she contemplates in front of him, quiet but with an expression that spoke volumes.
The silence between them seems to bite louder than any conversation they once held, each dish in front, a reminder of the bitter aftertaste of a friendship turned cold.
"It's just Minjun and I" she breathes out, voice shaky, and Jaemin realises that those nervous cues in her slumped posture and shaking hands had never changed "It's just been the two of us for a while" she whispered. "That's why I was so scared"
Jaemin's hand hovers uncertainly beneath the table, unsure if the gesture would be welcomed or misunderstood, caught in the delicate balance of care and concern.
Admittedly, Jaemin catches himself slightly intrigued, still confused what could have lead to her practically perfectly family turning into this.
But he knows better than to let his curiosity get the best of him.
He wants to stop her, tell her that whatever it is that causes her brows to knit together and her pretty eyes to gloss over isn't something she needs to force herself to talk about, but he doesn't know how.
For a moment he's kicking himself under the table— how had he ever let go of the person who meant so much to him?
Even now, knowing everything she had done, he couldnt help but question why hadn't he tried to get past it then?
At the sight of her downcast features suddenly everything that he once despised her for seemed so trivial.
Jaemin sees himself, a younger, less mature version that stands on the court, hair matted to his forehead from the rain, a ball long forgotten somewhere behind him, cold, betrayed, and so painfully alone. Those burning tear stained cheeks, the harsh whistles of wind, the bitter feeling of failure still clinging to his skin, he remembers it all.
But every feeling he recalls so well, so vividly, is so easily dismissed when her eyes shine with a painful tint, red from the piercing tears that she holds in them.
"My dad" she cuts him off, gaze now avoidant as he grabbed her cold hands in his, "he walked out on us not long after ...whatever hapenned between you and me. He never came back, didn't answer a single call, not even a text, no form of communication except the papers he sent in the mail so I could become Junnie's legal guardian."
I missed you, she wanted to say. I needed you she'd liked to add.
"That's why it's just the two of us now" she said instead, trying to find more words to stop the tears from flowing, like her words were the only thing that could hold them back.
Back then, Y/n remembers vividly the feeling of wanting to fall, to sink, to drown but still somehow keeping her head above the surface to hold on and stay strong for her younger brother. She wondered if Jaemin had been there, would it have been easier? Would she have let herself fall, would she have someone to give her a hand, to pick her back up again and hold her hand through it all? Would things have ended differently?
"I'm sorry" his words weren't new, they weren't special, they were the same as what everybody else would say but the fact that they came from him, Na Jaemin who now stood by her side with his arms wrapped around her, was enough to dissolve the feeling of emptiness.
08:25 present time
Y/n looks over at Minjun, still deep in slumber, smiling before she steps out of the room.
There's way too many toys sprawled out across the living room floor, a blanket she finds herself folding as she subconsciously begins to clean up. Her eyes land on the kitchen counter, wondering what to make for breakfast. She was never particularly good at cooking, but she'd been learning for her brothers sake.
When she gets to the black jacket resting over the couch, it hits her. She catches sight of her puffy eyes in the mirror, and a hand runs through her hair hurriedly.
"Why the fuck did I tell him all of that" she let's out a frustrated sigh, running her hands across her face, "I'm supposed to hate him" she reminds herself, though her tone isn't convincing in the slightest.
"You don't hate him though" Heeseung's voice comes out muffled, the toothbrush between his lips making it difficult to understand his words.
He had been the one to stay over last night, her friends still taking turns to accompany Minjun and her every night since he'd walked out of the apartment, a gesture that made her heart swell. Although up until now she was pretty certain he was still asleep. Clearly not.
"I can't hate him" she sighs, falling back into the couch "is it bad I want to be friends with him again?" she asks, even though Heeseung had retreated to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.
Regardless he pokes his head out into the hallway, a sly smirk across his lips "with benefits?"
Y/n rolls her eyes.
He emerges again not long after, smiling from ear to ear "no y/n it's not bad if you want to be friends again" he takes a seat beside her "you can only fight your feelings for so long, let yourself be vulnerable, take the risk and try again" he says, hands resting on both his knees.
"and if you're feeling really risky, you can always—"
"shut up Heeseung" she smiles, lightly pushing against his arm "I guess it is worth a shot though"
"he's right next door anyways so sneaking around won't be hard at all"
"I meant being friends. Just friends." she stands up, walking over to the kitchen "you down for pancakes?"
He nods.
"You know it could be good though, he's hot, you're hot, there's enough tension to make things interesting and it ticks your not ready for a relationship box pretty well too"
Despite the pointed look the captain offers him, Heeseung doesn't let up, and secretly, she wouldn't have it any other way.
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starboye · 3 months ago
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pairing: nate jacobs x male reader
request: Nate Jacobs learns that Male reader is a new student, and he tries to have a one-night stand with him or something, but male reader immediately shows his dislike towards Nate. This catches Nate off guard, and he tries to "be friends" with him, but Male reader declines or simply walks away from Nate causing Nate to be furious and more determined to get in bed with him, however, Nate soon realizes he catches feelings for Male reader and wants to him to be his boyfriend?
warnings: fluff, mentions of sex, cursing, kissing
you had just moved to california after your dad got a big promotion so of course you were the new student at east highland highschool, you heard some good and bad things about it (mostly bad things) but nonetheless you went and of course they assigned you a school guide, some guy named nate jacobs and immediately he wanted you.
he showed you around the school, showing you the great wonders that came with the highschool in the most monotone voice but from time to time he'd glance over to admire your ass, that luscious ass he wanted to fuck so badly "hey wanna come to a party, its happening later tonight if you wanna swing by" nate asks trying to appear nonchalant "yeah id be down" you say mimicking his nonchalant.
and with that you and nate finished the tour and said good bye to each other, but for some reason you couldn't escape nates mind, no matter how hard he tried to think of something else the thought of you always bounced around in his mind, was it maybe that he actually liked you no impossible he just wants to fuck you that's it nate lied to himself as the bell rang and school ended.
you entered the house party to the sound of loud ruckus, people yelling, and music blaring, with the overwhelming smell of alcohol, but luckily you noticed nate as he waved you over "50 bucks says i fuck this slut by the end of the night" nate says to his friends as you walk closer "ill take that bet" mckay says before nate walks over to you "wanna get some drinks" nate asks leaning over to near your ear so you could hear him better "yeah sure" you yell back before walking over to a more quiet part of the house.
"so what's a sweet thing like you doing here all alone" nate asks sipping on his drink as you lean onto a wall "no friends" you reply looking up at him with disinterested eyes "well wanna make a friend tonight" nate smirks placing his hand beside you head on the wall and leaning over you "is this your way of flirting" you ask snickering a bit.
"what" nate questions leaning back up "if you wanna sleep with me just ask" you chuckle taking another sip of your drink "well then wanna have sex with me" nate asks thinking he's about to easily win his bet but his hopes are killed when you respond with no "why don't you wanna sleep with me" he asks "because you look like a total douche" you say before walking away to get another drink, nate watched as your fine ass walked away from him, he was now determined to have sex with you.
after that day you caught him watching you, whether that be in his truck as you walked home from school or from afar while you were doing school work, he'd even sometimes buy you expansive gifts with handwritten notes that you're sure he got from pinterest but you shut him down every time "c'mon just once" nate pleas "no nate, not now and not ever" you say giving him the diamond bracelet back and walking away as he was forced to watch that ass walk away for the hundredth time.
nate sat up at night wondering why he wanted you so much, why he needed to sleep with you so badly, was it because he felt something deeper for you and wanted to try and push that feeling out by sleeping with you but it would inevitably come back up... no it couldn't possibly be that, but the thought was to much, he got up and drove to your house in the middle of the night.
"you up" nate texted your number (he had got it from you on the first day of school) "what do you want" you text back "come outside" he texts, you look outside to see his truck on the other side of the street and huff before putting on some clothes and walking out to his car, seeing him with a little smile on his face you get into the passenger seat "what do you want nate" you ask slightly agitated as nate just woke you up.
"okay so i- ive been thinking right and... i don't know how to say this but..." nate stammers over his words making you even more annoyed "just spit it out" you say leaning over the arm rest to kiss him, his lips lightly chasing after yours "uhm i was gonna ask will you be my boyfriend" nate nervously asks "yes" you smile finally seeing the nate that isn't a sex hungry animal "so does that mean we can fuck now" nate asks.
"one step at a time you horny fuck" you say before opening the door to get out the car but nate pulls you back one last time to kiss you, this kiss more passionate and heartfelt than the last, maybe fucking him wouldn't be the worst thing ever
taglist: @spermeboy @mailmango @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat
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eternallyhyucks · 3 months ago
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chasing pavements | kim leehan
— no warnings, wc: 1.1k
— the title makes this sound so depressing i promise it is not 😭😭😭.. (i think) i just couldnt think of anything better …
part 2 (coming soon :p)
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𖤐 ྀ
4 years ago, kim leehan moved into your town and started going to school with you. at first you thought he seemed nice, but within a month of him joining your class, your mind was immediately changed.
because he was attractive, all the girls in your classes constantly flocked around him or tried to get his attention which in turn made the boys befriend him to try and get a sliver of the attention put onto them. unfortunately for you, leehan was in all of your classes.
you weren’t the type to want to be different from everyone else, but you simply weren’t interested in the way leehan acted. he just seemed to be cocky because of all the attention he recieved constantly and that bothered you. of course, you never voiced your opinions on him, so they never created any problems.
that is until leehan himself began to notice that you never paid much mind to him.
one day, after your lunch period, you stopped at your locker. you told the friends you were walking with that they could head back to class while you grabbed your water bottle. as you closed your locker, you jumped a little after seeing leehan leaning with his back on the lockers next to yours.
“hi y/n”
“hi leehan”
he turns his body towards you, “i feel like we never actually talk to each other”
“we don’t usually have a reason to”
“do you not want to talk to me?”
“not really”
you start walking towards your class and he follows next to you.
“aw why not”
you ignore him and sit back in your seat.
after that interaction, you always caught leehan looking at you from the corner of your eye. he would always tend to be around you whether it was in class, the hallways or even during your lunch periods and your friends especially took notice to this.
“i swear i see that leehan kid everywhere lately”
you nod your head, “i know, i feel like i can’t escape him”
“and he’s always looking at you. i wonder if he likes you or something” your friend smirks
you shudder at the thought, “oh please he has enough girls on his roster”
months go by and leehan was still constantly hovered around you. one day, you had enough. because his locker was only a couple down from yours, you took extra long to put things away into yours to see if he would do the same. just as you suspected, he also stood at his for extra long. as the hallways began clearing up, you walked over to his locker.
“why are you everywhere, why do i keep seeing you everywhere”
“what do you mean?” he smiles
“come on leehan. ever since that day i told you i didn’t wanna talk to you, you started hovering around me everywhere i go. why are you doing that”
“you noticed ?”
“well no shit, you went from being nowhere near me to suddenly always near me”
“i don’t know.. i wanna get closer to you, you know, become friends. i just didn’t know how to go about it”
“so you started following me around..”
“well that wasn’t the plan”
“right.. okay well, stop doing that. if you wanna be friends just come up and talk to me, i won’t punch you for that”
“what would you punch me for?” he starts giggling
“freak” you walk away, rolling your eyes
as the year progressed, leehan began talking to you more and more. he would ask for help on homework and even try to partner up with you for projects (which you would usually turn him down for). everything he did felt platonic to you and you were completely platonic back. you still didn’t really like the way he acted anyway.
the end of the school year came quicker than you expected and the summer before your first year in college began (of course, you and leehan ended up committing to the same uni)
on the first day of your summer break, you woke up from a nap to a chain of texts from your friend.
are you going to the party tomorrow night? you try and rub some sleep away from your eyes,
what party?
leehan’s grad party, he invited us the day before graduation?
did he?
maybe it was when you fell asleep in stats
oh.. probably
so you going?
i don’t know, we’ll see
as you hit send and were about to put your phone down, it lit up again. this time it was leehan.
you’re coming tomorrow right? you never rsvp’d but your friends are coming so..
feeling a little guilty, you hesitated a little before replying, yeah i’ll try my best, sorry for not rsvping😭
you’re good, see you there ;)
you got out of bed, sighing.
the next night, you decided to carpool with some friends. you wore a simple floral dress with a sweater on top. from the moment you stepped into the party, you felt like you needed to leave, but unfortunately, leehan saw you walk in.
he walked over and smiled at you and your friends. “thank you guys for coming!”
your friends began spreading around the room and as you looked for a place to sit, leehan came and sat next to you.
“you look pretty”
“thanks”
“was the drive bad?”
“no, not really”
the silence between the two of you was very loud
“do you not wanna be here?”
you sigh, “i’m just tired, didn’t sleep much last night”
“ahh i see, i’ll let you be then”
he did not in fact let you be. 20 minutes later, he came and sat next to you again.
“you look bored”
“i am a little bit”
“where’d your friends go?”
“not a clue, i haven’t seen them since we got in”
there was a pause before leehan replied, “can i talk to you outside for a second?”
“uhh sure?”
the two of you got up and he led you out of his house and onto his deck. you lean on the railing of the deck.
“i have to tell you something” leehan began
“what’s up”
he paused, “i like you”
you blankly stared at him before you realized he wasn’t exactly joking around.
“you don’t mean that” you scoff. “you have an entire roster of girls you could turn to. you’re only interested in me because i’m not waiting in line for you”
leehan’s gaze shifted. “please y/n you have to believe me, i’ve really never felt like this for anyone else in my entire life”
“do you really expect me to believe that?”
“no? yes? i don’t know.. please can you just give me a chance?” he sighs and looks away and you notice him wipe his eye.
“three dates. just go on three dates with me and if after them, you really don’t want to be with me, i’ll move on. but if you say no or if in the middle you back out, i’m going to keep trying to win you over. what do you think?”
you think his offer over for a minute and sigh, “fine.”
he gives you a small smile.
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©eternallyhyucks
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taglist
@izchone , @baekswoons , @jiwon-44 , @junityy , @pr0dbeomgyu , @neos127 , @wccycc , @koishua , @changminurheart , @rainbowglitteramythyst , @baekhyunstruly , @soobin-chois , @yjwfav , @fairybinie , @sleepingisweak
!! unable to tag bolded
—send an ask if you would like to be a part of my taglist!!
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a-spes · 5 months ago
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| PRETTY FACES, DARK SOULS — Part three (1.965 words).
| Summary — you robbed the wrong person, and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not.
| Tags & warnings — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Dark CEO!Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Dark!Yelena Belova, mentions of sex, N is abusive toward R, starvation, sequestration/kidnapping, R being referred as a mutt, R has been drugged, slight comfort if you squint (or maybe it's just me), humiliation, injuries.
| N/A — It took me a while to write it, and it's shorter than the previous parts, but I hope you'all still going to enjoy it!
| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
| Part one. Part two. Part three.
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There are some things that cannot be forgotten.
The things you did were one of those. Not only you stole her wallet, but you also had the audacity to lie to her face. You were looking at her, straight in the eyes, when you told her how much you liked it. She had you right there, laying beneath her, begging and screaming her name for hours, and yet it was just a lie. Sometimes she wonders if your pleas when she had her knuckles buried deep inside you were also an act. Maybe. She can't know for sure.
But you've done worse. You've been haunting her mind since you two met at the party. You were like a poison in her life, ruining everything she has tried to build. Since that night, it has been impossible for the redhead to think about anything else. The woman that was known for her calm and sturdiness is now unable to stay focused during the meetings. On the rare occasions she decides to show up, she barely listens, passing time by tapping on the wood table.
Why is she wasting her time, sitting at that table and listening to a bunch of men talking nonsense, when she could be looking for you?
She easily could've asked her men to do the research for her, but it was very unlike the woman to ask for something then wait for the others to fetch it. Natasha Romanoff isn't a queen, nor an heiress. She is the CEO of one of the world's most successul company, one that was built on sweat and hard work. Hers. Not someone else's.
When it comes to that story, her actions are dictated by her emotions, by a desire for revenge that intoxicates her. She knows it, and somehow appreciates the feeling. At first, that was new and exciting, she was almost glad of what happened, but she eventually got bored of that game you were playing. As the years went by, the excitation was replaced by frustration.
She really needed you to fix the mess you've created in her life, whether you're willing to do it or not.
"The mutt is drooling on your couch," an unknown voice yelled near you, and it was followed by quick steps, as if someone came in running. A second later, you could feel a hand that harsly grabs your face, nails digging in your skin, leaving crescent-shaped marks all over your chin.
That's when you opened your eyes for the first time, gasping at the sudden contact. You don't remember much of what happened last night, but you firmly believe that it's Kate's fault because one of the last things you see is the black-haired girl sliding glasses of alcohol in your direction.
You weren't planning on drinking, at least not that much. You don't even like for real the taste of alcohol, and you definitely hate even more the following morning. A pitiful sound escapes your lips as you try to open your eyes, realizing that you are in a much worse condition that you thought. As always, you promise yourself that it's the last time, but it's never for real. It's so tempting to say yes when Kate offers to go out, to accept the drinks she hands you and let down your barriers for one night.
"Do not make your case worse," a second voice said, "you already have more debts than you'll ever be able to repay," it said before another hand grips your hair tightly, tilting your head backwards.
You were more tired than usual. It felt like a weight was pressing down on your whole body, as if it had become too heavy for you to bear. A simple blink of the eyes required inhuman efforts, and in that condition, it was unthinkable to raise your head to get a better look at the person who had just said those words. All you could see were patches of colour, and what you assumed to be red hair mixed with blinding light. But your surroundings were blurred, and you couldn't see much more. So when she threw you on the floor, you didn't even try to get up.
"Poor thing...," the blonde said, chuckling softly. "I mean, look at her! She has no idea what's going on," and it was true. When she looked into your eyes, all she could see was fear, and pain.
The drug they put in your drink was strong. Maybe a little too strong, if your condition is anything to go by. She didn't know if you could hear her, but she was sure you wouldn't be able to move for at least a few more hours. Even swallowing was too much to ask for the moment, and the stain that had formed on the seat of her private jet was the proof.
At one point, she felt sorry for you, sprawled out on the carpet, or maybe it was her younger sister's incessant complaints about having to step over your body every time she needed to pass that eventually irritated the redhair. In any case, at one point, she decided to take you in her arms with all the gentleness she could, careful to not let you fall. You were so calm, so malleable, unable to react as she manipulated your body as she wished.
Eventually, she sat with you on her lap. Your chest was against hers, your face forcefully burried in her neck as she played with your hair with a firm hand. Despite your instinct to flee, you quickly relax in her arms. Your anxious breathing eventually slowed down until it matches with hers, both of your chests raising at the same time. The hand that stroked your hair also worked it magic until you could barely keep your eyelids open.
"Already going soft with her?" her sister asked when she came back with two glasses of alcohol, both for herself, and witnessed her sister craddling the mutt in her arms, something she disapproves of strongly.
"Weren't you the one who complained about me leaving my things around?" she asked back, rolling her eyes as the youngest spoke.
"I was just saying," she replied, shrugging her shoulders before dopping heavily onto one of the seats, earning a dark look from her elder sister. She then lets her eyes rest on your form, already knowing that what will happen next is going to be interesting. You've been hard to catch, and she expects you to be at least as difficult to tame. She knows her sister always enjoys a challenge, and so does she.
It has been the last time you saw light, and not the artificial one from the light bulbs, but the real one, from the sun's rays whose warmth you missed. You could only dream of the light caressing your skin, enveloping you in its comforting warmth until you open your eyes. Then, you are greeted only by the coldness of the cell you've been threw in almost as soon as the plane landed. They didn't let you a chance to run away, not even to think about it, before they locked you up in here.
You haven't seen the woman since. Nor anyone else. Your only contact with the outside are the muffled voices coming from the pipes. If they're even real, and not just a figment of your imagination. You are not sure anymore what's real or not. You spend your time between drowsiness and sleep, and can't distinguish what belongs to which world anymore. Maybe you've started to go crazy. A long time ago, you've read an article about the importance for humans to have contact with others.
But you were alone. With no food, no water, and no idea of what would happen next. Is she going to let you starve in this place? Maybe. It would be cruel, a perfect punishment for a thief, but certainly not a glorious death. You hoped for a better ending, something masterful. You hoped you would die as a hero, not as some pitful criminal. Here, no one would find your body, and you were sure that no one would organise a funeral for you. They wouldn't even know your dead. That's the downside of having no ties — No one really cares about what may happen to you, they probably think you've run away. Again.
Sometimes, you think of Kate, your flatmate and coworker, and it's enough to breath a little bit of hope in your heart. If there is someone that cares about you in that world, it's her. She would definitely call the police and look for you until she find your body. She is not a traitor.
At least, if she is still alive.
You can't be sure. No matter how hard you concentrate, you can't remember the last time you've seen her, the end of the evening being just black. You tried, but it hurt your mind so you eventually stopped so you convinced yourself with the false memory that she came home earlier, and that she is fine, waiting for you to come back.
The thought that everything is going to be alright soothed you as you kept alterning between drowsy and asleep for a few hours, waking up suddenly at the slightest noise. It is hope that keeps you awake, and the fear of missing someone coming down, something that only happened after an eternal wait, when you stopped believing in it.
You are unable to move, laying on the floor with your knees against your chest. When you opened your eyes, you were expecting another disappointment but you catched the flickering light of a torch. For a moment, you thought it was the end of you. But no, you've heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, the one of a key and then a creaking door. The silhouette rising up in front of you was impressive, but it wasn't death.
"'Morning Sweetie," the voice whispered. It was followed by the metallic clutter of something being placed on the ground.
Then you saw it. A bowl lit by the torch's light. Inside, there is something that looks like porridge. It isn't very appetising, but you didn't care. You are so hungry that you would've swallowed anything she was willing to give you. You crawled to her feet, dragging your body over to the bowl, only for you hand to grasp the void when you reached for the plate.
A sharp pain in your wrist followed. It's her boot pressing down on your wrist as she puts all her weight into it, preventing you from moving. It hurts so bad that you thought, for a second, that she might have broken your bone.
"Aww...," she cooed, her voice dripping with false pity, "you didn't thought it would be that easy, did you?" When the only answer she gets from you is a whimper, she chuckles. "Such a stupid thing...," she murmures, but despite the appearances, her voice is everything but sweet. It's harsh, and mocking. "If you want to eat, you need to earn that privilege. Nothing will be free for you, until you've payed your debt," her warm breath hitting your cheeks as she knelt beside you to utter those words.
And you knew it wasn't a threat as she left you again, knocking the bowl over as she does so. It is a promise.
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| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
| Part one. Part two. Part three.
| Taglist (only if you have your age in bio!) — @loneliestafterparty, @natsxwife, @olicity-boo, @skittlebum, @skqrlett, @thalia-is-not-ok, @tobiaslut.
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soulwrencher · 9 months ago
Note
Hey i just read your fanfic "and still i answer your call when she doesn't answer at all". and i loved it, i wonder if you could maybe make a part 2 if you have time, And if you want too. And ofcourse, you dont have to do it or rush it
hi! thank you sm <3 yes ofc i can, haven't written in a hot minute so;
and still i answer your call when she doesn't answer at all, part 2
pairing: ellie x fem!reader
warnings: toxic relationship, cheating, nsfw, curse words, soft?? ellie but highkey salty, not proofread yet again, lesbian sex <3, and also first time writing smut plsplspls have mercy on me, xoxo
word count: 3,9k
summary: you visit ellie again to thank her for comforting and taking care of you, but things take a different course when your 'girlfriend' texts you. or; ellie eats you out.
as warm tones start to set into the blue sky, february doesn't seem so cold anymore.
all your worries were washed away, all thanks to ellie. after you stormed to her place at the most vile hour, ellie took good care of you, the two of you watched your favourite movies until you fell asleep and she prepared you some breakfast before you had to leave for work. guilt resides in the pits of your gut, your gratefulness has never left the four walls of your mind, it is time you finally thank ellie for everything she has done for you these past few days.
you spent the whole day in bed, sulking away while thoughts of your girlfriend cross your mind. you reach for your phone, no message from her.
as you take steady steps to your closet you realise that there's no turning back now. you've made up your mind, it is over. but you needed good advice from a very good friend, surely ellie would have all the answers to your questions. flicking through all the clothes in your closet, memories of your girlfriend start to occupy your mind. the dress you wore on your first date, the hoodie she bought you on a rainy november day, the graphic tee you wore the first time she made you cry, and all the other clothes that witnessed you being miserable because of her. it had to end, now.
all dressed up now, you wash your face, washing the smudged mascara from yesterday's crying away. lately your emotions have been all over the place but you told yourself it is better to feel them rather than bottling everything up.
ready to leave, you text ellie a simple 'i'm gonna stop by your place' shortly regretting that you didn't text her earlier. but to your luck she replies almost immediately.
'sure, have you eaten?' the words circle your mind. you don't know whether you're impressed by the fact that she answered so quickly or that she potentially knew you haven't eaten a single thing yet.
'no' you reply, slipping your phone into your pocket while fishing out your keys that you mindlessly put in your pockets before locking the door.
you step outside and cold wind is blowing your way. the sky has already lost itself in complete darkness, but the clouds haven't shied away, surrounding the moons light.
ellie is just as nervous as the last time you were here, although now she had something to keep herself busy with: cooking.
keeping it simple, because she's too scared to mess up, but not too boring, ellie doesn't want you to think that she can't cook.
a dilemma she might never escape, because she knows you don't overthink any of your actions towards her. but should she really be thinking about this right now? ellie tries her best to feel somewhat content that you're coming over. however, knowing that she is one-sidedly overthinking her actions, caring for your needs and, well, liking you, she can't help but feel like burning this entire kitchen down instead of cooking a nice meal for the two of you.
"shit," ellie groans as she feels the blade digging into her fingertip. this for sure wasn't part of the cute scenarios she just made up nor was it part of her plan to burn this kitchen down. ellie rushes to find a plaster, a bandage, anything to put on her finger.
the door rings, ellie rushes to the door, heavy footsteps echo and bounce off the stairwell walls. the sound of you felt like a mixture of butterflies and sour lemons in her guts.
and there you stand, right in front of her. something in the fresh evening air must've altered your brain chemistry, because why do you feel her eyes linger? and why do you want them to? your emotional imbalance is surely to blame, you most definitely lack attentiveness and consideration. ellie lightly clearing her throat interrupts your almost driving you to insanity monologue, your eyes now drawn to her body.
has your friend's arms always looked this big? she's just wearing a plain white t-shirt, but you can't seem to stop yourself from tracing the strokes of her tattoo with your eyes. soft hello's were exchanged before ellie offered to take off your jacket. the outfit you picked out today and deemed too light for your own comfort suddenly became ridiculously warm.
"how have you been?" ellie asks, making her way to the kitchen as you awkwardly stand in the hallway trying to cool down.
"better? uh, do you mind if i change?" your voice breaks a little, you lightly chuckle to cover your discomfort.
ellie shakes her head, her whole attention directed towards the plates she's trying to decorate nicely with the food she has just made. truth is, she's trying her hardest not to think about you changing, about your bare, soft skin, about—
"oh my god," it emerges from ellie's bedroom, ripping ellie out of her mildly inappropriate thoughts. she was so sure that she cleaned her room well, even checked multiple times and every corner, what on earth did you find? she fiddles with her hands as she walks towards her bedroom, door slightly open. the auburn haired woman doesn't believe in god, but on this very day, she is making all kinds of prayers, hoping for the best. ellie opens the door and seeing you sit on her bed with your phone in your hand is surprisingly disappointing.
you watch her stand at the doorframe, her arms crossed, flexing her buff arms. you can't ignore her furrowed eyebrows, but when ellie notices the concern written all over your face she mouths a low 'what happened?'
you turn around your phone for ellie to read the text message your girlfriend just sent you.
'hey baby, can we talk? i'm really sorry' ellie reads in her head. she definitely prayed for all the wrong reasons, because this is exponentially worse than anything she feared just a minute ago.
"why are you showing me this?" she asks, her voice low. she's still standing in front of you, looking down on you. her gaze on you makes you feel things you haven't felt in a long time. but your girlfriend just texted you and is apologising for her actions, you need to focus. but something about the way her eyes are locking you in is making it a little harder to breathe.
you take a deep breath, you need oxygen to clear your head.
"well, i came here because i needed advice—" you carefully watch ellie approaching you slowly.
"—i wanted to end things with her but—" you thought you were attentive enough but you're taken aback by ellie's big hands resting on your thighs, her face dangerously close to yours. you steal a small glimpse at her tired eyes piercing you through before continuing. her being so close causes your breath to shorten, you're hoping your all that she can't see your chest lifting.
"—she apologised now, so we're good," you say. ellie's eyes widen in disbelief, slightly tilting her head.
"are you serious?" she scoffs, her eyes shut close before searching for answers in yours. you nod and watch ellie drop her head in disappointment, followed by several scoffs and sighs.
"no you're not," she says under her breath, disappointment slowly spiralling into exasperation. ellie can't tolerate this any longer. whether it is your dumb decisions or your inability to see your worth, she won't take this anymore. and it might be selfish to get angry at you for not seeing her more than just a friend, but she did decide on a whim while cooking that this is the day where she finally tells you. however the manner things are progressing for now seem to be reaching a dead end.
"i have to reply though," you mumble, but ellie's furrowed eyebrows insinuate you to feel insecure about your decision.
"you don't," ellie says, as an auburn hair strand looses itself from her split ponytail. her arm reaches for your phone, but you hold it up by reflex, you didn't expect her to grab for your phone. however, you forget that you're the one sitting and she'd just have to stand up straight to get your phone, so you rapidly throw your back onto the mattress, arms far away, she surely won't be able to get your phone now.
"fuck, you can't be—" ellie hesitates, and you smile triumphantly, until you feel something weighting you down. your eyes widen in realisation, did ellie just climb on top of you? your body's brush now and then against each other while she's trying to reach for your phone. you're about to turn to the side when you feel ellie's strong hands hold your wrist down, making it impossible for you to move. for a minute, you forget why you wanted to turn away as you loose yourself in her sage green eyes. and that's when realisation hits you, you're under her, at the mercy of her big, strong arms. ellie doesn't keep eye contact for long, her eyes are fixated on stealing your phone, your eyes are focused on her jaw line. you're being held down, her knees restricting your upper body from the sides, her chest alarmingly close to your face. your grip around your phone softens, your too distracted by her presence pressing and holding you down.
you hear ellie whisper a 'finally' before you're eye to eye again. ellie was too busy taking your phone away and only notices now how close the two of you are. your chests lightly brush against each other, ellie still pinning you down to the bed. her grip tightens around your wrist as she thinks about the way you're still so caught up with your girlfriend, but the fact that she has your full attention for once overrides all the anger she bottled up. you gulp down and break away from her gaze, looking to the side, where she's holding you down.
"what happened to your finger?" you finally break the silence, earning a low chuckle from ellie. she's breathing right onto your neck, sending shivers down your spine.
you watch ellie's lip move, form words, pressing against each other softly.
"you sure you wanna text your girlfriend?" the last words pull you out of the daze her lips put you in, she surely must've said something important. you need to focus. you have to ignore that your body is screaming to be held, to be touched.
the thought of ellie touching you has never crossed your mind until... now. this very thought makes you want to adjust your lower body, arching your back slightly.
ellie can't help but notice all the movement happening below her. she's never been this close to you. and knowing she has your undivided attention all to herself, she can't hold back any longer.
her chest bumps against yours as she slightly moves up, her hand reaching for your chin, holding it in between her thumb and bandaged index finger. you're forced to hold eye contact with her, her breath tickling your face. your chest doesn't even rise anymore, only falling lower and lower until the movement travels to your lower back.
it's hard to breathe and it's hard to think, you feel your eyes wander from her green eyes to her lips.
"do i have something on my lips?" ellie asks, while looking down on you.
"no?" you're confused, finally pulled out of trance. she tilts your head to the side, at which you sharply inhale.
"you're staring," ellie whispers into your neck, the sensation insinuates you to hold your breath. you see a smile creep up her face from the corner of your eye, your heartbeat must've dropped to your abdomen at this very sight. all your morals and values must have left you on this night, because you want nothing more than ellie. she always directs you to make the right decision, so you want to believe that she will stop you from pursuing your inappropriate thoughts. with your free hand you reach for the hem of ellie's t-shirt, holding onto it desperately.
"ellie," you say out of breath. something about the way you called for her name made her lose it all, the breathlessness, your voice, the feeling of your body under hers.
her narrowed eyes fill with desperation, hunger, and lust. the sight of you underneath her tingles on her fingertips, ready to roam your body.
ellie takes a deep breath, lifting your face by your chin. she observe your lips carefully as she traces the outlines with her thumb.
"can i?" ellie finally asks, her eyes nervously looking for a place to rest on. you look up to her through your lashes, your grip tightening on her t-shirt. she makes you feel so needed, so incredibly wanted. your mind tells you to put an end to this but the feeling growing in between your thighs can't be ignored any longer. you shut your eyes close, then take one more look at ellie.
her arms could hold you up without struggling, her hands look so sturdy, she could touch you just the way you need her to.
sharply inhaling, you nod, and a smile creeps up her face. and you still feel said smile as she presses her lips against yours.
you didn't know that such a gentle kiss left you eager for more, and you find your hands entangled in her hair, frantically holding onto ellie.
the way your hands speak for what's going on on your mind makes ellie's blood rush through her veins, the soft fabric of your top rubbing up against her arm drives her insane as your skin is exposed every now and then.
ellie's hands glide over your body as her lips devour you impatiently. the sensation of her fingertips linger and you can't keep up any longer. she wants more of you, sloppy kisses emphasise that her attention has shifted from your lips to your body.
you can't help but notice her t-shirt riding up every so often, abdomen exposed.
"fuck," ellie groans, your bottom lip tugged in between her teeth. her hands finally have found a place to rest, a little under your chest, cupping your breasts. her gentle eyes meet yours, pressing her lips to a thin line before speaking.
"can i take your shirt off?" ellie's voice is slightly raspy and it's just enough to worsen the pressure in between your thighs. you squeeze them tightly, earning raised eyebrows from ellie.
"only if you take yours off too," you shoot back, because you can't be doing the wrong thing one-sidedly. however, didn't you want to end things with your girlfriend? she was practically an ex by now, you would've told her soon enough.
ellie sits up, her inner thighs pressing against your waist.
"oh? then, take your bra off too," ellie says, as she trails kisses on your neck, hot, slow and wet. you slightly arch your neck while biting down a moan. this is getting too heated for your own comfort and you can see yourself making noises only a few instances away, this needs to stop.
but ellie keeps on sucking, biting and licking your neck, making it impossible to keep quiet. and to make matters worse, she pushes her thigh all the way up against your aching spot, resulting you to softly moan.
"shit, didn't know texting your girlfriend back included moaning for me," ellie spits, the bitter taste of her fury still hasn't left her tongue. you're taken aback by her words but the sensation on your neck is keeping you in a trance you can't break away from. ellie's had enough of waiting, so she switches position with you, making you sit on top of her lap. she lifts your t-shirt, every inch of exposed skin is followed by hungry kisses until the shirt is off of you. you don't necessarily like sitting on top, too many vulnerable spots to be explored. ellie's rough hands glide down the sides of your upper body until they comfortably rest above your hips. her fingers graze over your body making breathing impossible, you feel it all the way down your lower abdomen.
and as if her big sturdy hands roaming over your body wasn't enough, she reaches for your back, undoing your bra with one hand.
you watch her smirk cockily as the straps of your bra fall to the sides, exposing your shoulders, and more importantly your chest. ellie bites down her lip as she cups your breasts, giving them a good, firm squeeze before locking eyes with you.
"you're tits look so fucking perfect," she groans, letting the palm of her hand brush against your hard nipples while ellie feels your hips tilt to the back at the touch of your skin, back arched for a moment only. she then pinches them and teases you even more, so you try to stop her and you reach out for her hand. however, you mistakenly grab her tattooed forearm, grasping it firmly to push her away from you. ellie chuckles at your unfortunate attempt to break away from her.
"you want them inside of you?" she teases, while breathing hot air onto your nipples. your eyes widen in surprise, when have you implied that? you suddenly feel heat creep up your neck, panic written all over your face. in response, ellie points to the forearm you've been digging your nails into.
"oh," you say, rapidly drawing your hands in.
"no, it's fine," she says while putting your arms around her, lifting you slightly up to lay you on her bed. her fingers are hooked on your waistband while taking your pants off. you've never seen anyone look this hot taking pants off, loose hair strands covering her face, you can't tell her facial expression.
all you see is her muscular shoulders and arms flexing while she undresses you.
you realise that wearing grey underwear will be the death of you as you hear ellie laugh lowly. you sense her blowing hot air against your clit, oh god is she a tease, you think to yourself.
"so fucking wet and i haven't even touched you? would love to hear your girlfriend's opinion on this," ellie scoffs, while observing the hot mess you are.
"ellie, for fucks sake i'm—"
"you're what?" eyebrows raised, hands resting on your thighs. you take a deep breath. talking about this while you're about to do it is not just incredibly anticlimactic but also immensely nerve wrecking. her eyes are like a ticking bomb, the longer you keep her waiting the more the disappointment grows, her gentle eyes turning tired.
"i'm ending things with her," you finally say.
"you surely will after today," ellie responds, her fingertip firmly pressing on your clit, only fabric separating her from your skin.
you gasp and your stomach rises almost immediately at the pressure you feel, causing you to squeeze your thighs tightly together. however, ellie slips her rough hand in between them, mouthing an 'open' towards your direction which you deemed useless since ellie opened your legs forcibly on her own. she holds one of your thighs down while pulling your underwear to the side, exposing your throbbing, wet clit. she holds two fingers out, gliding them over you to moisturise them before sliding them inside of you. the sensation of her fingers inside of you causes you to arch your back, throw back your head and dig your nails into her scalp.
"easy, love," she whispers, her fingers curved inside of you. ellie starts off slow, with every thrust you exhale shortly, until they turn into soft moans. her unexpectedly breathing against your clit makes you go insane, you feel the sensation give you goosebumps all over you body.
your body leaves ellie mesmerised, the way you move at her touch worsens her need to keep you all to herself, to devour you. she never imagined you to be this gorgeous, this attractive. she wants more of you and desperately wants the taste of you on her tongue. and not a second later, ellie made up her mind, she adjusts herself and pulls your panties further to the side, having full view of you.
"gorgeous," she mutters before crashing onto your clit, letting her tongue slowly slide to the top before making her way back down again. you pull at her hair in reaction, your other hand gripping her bed sheets. ellie moves the tip of her tongue up and down before tugging your clit in between her lips softly, sucking it in.
your moans become shaky and her sucking becomes more intense. you feel your whole body tense up as she presses her parted lips lightly around you, her tongue slowly flicking your clit inside of her mouth. she then lets go of you, you hold your breath.
you're numbed by the sensation and can't tell what's going on, you either feel her fingers pump inside of you or her tongue absolutely devouring you. you can't keep up any longer and ellie doesn't even leave space for a moment to breathe or think, you only feel, and that deeply.
all you hear are the wet noises you make against ellie's tongue and her grunts that unexpectedly turn you on. nails digging into her hair, back arched to the ceiling and your mind so far gone that all your responses to ellie's teasing questions are mindless moans, you feel her push even harder inside of you, causing you to jolt. ellie grins onto your clit as she notices your throbbing take on a slow, rhythmic pace, your insides clasping around her fingers in said rhythm. your hips move in circles, you desperately want to come, you've never felt this good.
and ellie keeps her thrusts consistent, just as the movement of her tongue, only increasing the speed of it. the taste of you sends her to another dimension, she already knows that this will leave her hungry for more. and so your back shoots up, forcing your hip all the way down and clutching around ellie's fingers, a sharp, but loud moan escaping your mouth. content with her work, ellie plants a kiss on your clit, your body shuddering in response. she slowly removes her fingers, your body shivers once more.
you're still in a haze, but ellie hovering over you pulls you out of it, her glistening lips are mesmerising. you see her lose strands sticking to her forehead, a few pearls of sweat on her well built arms. ellie observes your eyes, the way you look so gorgeous in the dimmed light worries her that she might do more.
"good job," she whispers into your neck, goosebumps spreading across your skin. you mutter a 'thank you' which makes you realise you're thanking her for all the wrong reasons. she lays down beside you and holds her right arm out, suggesting you to rest your head on it. you scoot closer, watching her chest rise and fall as she breathes.
"thank you for... the past few days," you say quietly into her chest. ellie scoffs shortly, raises her right arm to the back of your head and pats you. only now you notice that she has taken her shirt off, you don't recall that happening but you surely don't mind the view. you then feel ellie reach out for something, your phone in her hand.
"now text your girlfriend back and make sure to let her know that i'm here."
a/n: hello sorry for taking so long to update, was busy with exams, i was on renee rapp's concert as well (she's so attractive oh god) and yes. enjoy my first attempt at smut :)
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thisisxli · 5 months ago
Text
|| 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 ||
❃.✮:▹ ◃:✮.❃
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❃.✮:▹ ◃:✮.❃ 
Rs: Bakugou Katsuki x GN!reader (afab/amab)
Warnings:
slight heavy angst, neglecting boyfriend,
bad break-up.
Summary: you knew dating pro-hero Dynamite was gonna be tough but when you notice how distant he becomes, you can't help but wonder whether either of you chose the right decision to get together in the first place.
Wc: 0.7k
Suggested song: (P.S, if you're listening to the song recommended, please read a little slow at some parts if you want it to sync at the best parts (p′︵‵。))
*+:。.。 。.。:+*
It was one thing to know he was constantly busy and away with hero work. But to be deprived for his attention and have the first thing he did when he got home, ignore your entire presence and walk pass to sleep in your shared bedroom.
You know that Katsuki was working hard every day, fighting criminals, saving banks and civilians, etc. But you would've at least expected one kiss from your boyfriend when he got home. It tugged at your heart strings but you knew you had to let it go. You knew the priorities and the responsibilities he had and you couldn't put yourself above that. To pick you over the world is ridiculous.
By then, you slid into bed along with him but he wasn't facing your side of the bed. You didn't mind though, scooting close to him and running your hand in his hair. You slithered your arm around his waist before pulling your body close to his, savoring his warmth.
The next week's were honestly so painful. He would ignore you even when he was home. Every time you texted him or tried to call him at work, he would ignore you but respond when you were pissing him off.
One day, when he was home and finally spoke to you, he wanted to break up.
"Look-" he averts his gaze to the side, a solemn look on his face. "I just think we shouldn't be together. I'm caught up in work a lot so you shouldn't be with somebody that's barely around and.. I shouldn't be with somebody that...." He drifts off, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"What is it, Katsuki?" Your lip quivered but no tears formed in your eyes. You sure felt like crying.
"I shouldn't be with somebody that I don't feel something for anymore. I'm sorry. We're just barely around each other and.. I have other priorities. I don't think I should worry about needing to protect somebody close to me if they're ever caught up in danger."
This was the calmest Bakugou has ever been but yet, this was the angriest you've ever been with him. Was he calling you a damn burden?!
You felt like you shouldn't feel mad. But you did. How long did he feel like this? You were fucking stupid, you should've known from the start. You were both at fault. You should've known what you two were getting into.
You held your head low, jaw clenched tightly. You knew tears were forming when your vision started to become blurry.
"I.. really am sorry." You look at him through your lashes. Although it was blurry, you could tell his face only shown little remorse. You scoff at his half-ass apology, sniffling as you wipe your eyes with your sleeve before any tears escape. "Whatever. Just go, Bakugou."
He nearly winces at the use of his surname. He couldn't even be mad or make a remark at your petty attitude because he couldn't blame you. He's seen the way you looked at him at the times he came home, the way your touch was so yearnful and clinging. Of course, he loved you and wanted to be there for you, but he just didn't love you that way anymore. And he felt terrible about it. About as terrible as his old bullying toward his rival best friend back when they were in middle school. Luckily, instead of him staying, he let you stay in the house. He felt bad. And you hated it.
He had his things packed at the front door, slipping his shoes on. "Hey..."
You were hugging your arms, thumbs rubbing them and trying to soothe your nerves. You warily look up at the ash blonde man, biting your lip. You nearly cry out when he holds his arms out to you. Even in this moment, he was showing his soft side. Holding his arms out was like his signature move throughout your relationship. Your heart urged you to go and envelop yourself in his arms but then again, your heart also said not to. He hurt you, so bad. He hurt your ego and your heart.
When you stood in your place, bottom lip quivering, he sighs. Grabbing his suitcases and opening the door, he looks back at the place and you one last time. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out and that's right when you look up at him with teary eyes that pangs him in the heart.
He sucks in a breath, slightly frowning. "Do you.. Do you think we're together in another universe?"
You dryly laugh, tears escaping your eyes.
"We're not even together in this one."
*+:。.。 。.。:+*
A/N:
Honestly wrote this because I wanted to and I love writing angst. Was gonna make Bakugou a huge red flag but we all know that he's changed and that he's developed<3 after the latest chapters, there's no way he hasn't changed
Had to use the "do u think we're together in another universe" blablabla trope, it completed it ᰔᩚ
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calp0sa · 3 months ago
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what do you like and dislike about airy?
CRAZY MESSY INFODUMP INCOMING OH LORD
well there’s nothing i truly dislike about airy, because everything about him just makes him who he is. i just wish we got more insight to him as an Actual person rather than his host facade, even though that was sort of the point of one 17-18, i feel like the fact that he’s pretty much a regular ass dude went over most people’s heads (Not mine though because im really smart and could beat albert einstein in a rap battle) i know the mystique is the most prominently interesting aspect of the whole show… but yknowwww it’d be nice to know a little more about him personally considering how we now know he’s far from a one-dimensional character and shouldn’t be taken at face value (i am side eyeing a huge chunk of the one fandom as i say this) now okay if i were to talk about everything i like about airy we’d be here til the next solar eclipse but i’ll try to jot down everything i can. airy, to me, is the most fascinating object show character there is. i swear every time i observe something about him it’s like i’m opening a matryoshka doll as i dissect his character further and further… every rewatch of one i notice something, whether it be minuscule or glaring, there’s always something for me to brutally analyze. see, and here’s where i contradict myself, because while it’s frustrating not having much official trivia on him, i actually quite love how mysterious he is. i love how he seems like he knows a lot more than he lets on. i love how his caginess only sparks more questions. and i love how FESTERED he is. how you can tell there was so much that led up to him being so numb and stagnant… it does nothing but pique my interest. and i love how this festered-ness parallels with the contestants. i can’t help but feel as if the true extent of airy’s suffering was reflected through those on the plane, how the contestants went through so many fluctuant stages of sadness, denial, hopelessness, anger… all in the midst of isolation akin to airy’s forest. it makes me wonder if ONE served as catharsis to airy. not just a purpose or a distraction, but something to spark resonance within a desolate soul. speaking of distraction, it’s really interesting to me how reliant airy is on escapism, and this is most evident in how he literally takes on such a gilded and contrived host persona to the point where it’s difficult for the viewer to discern who he is OUTSIDE of “airy”. big fan of how the show basically tricks us into thinking he’s this ruthless malevolent all powerful entity until it takes us by surprise and reveals that he’s Just Some Guy, and it could’ve been anyone in his place. but this isn’t to defend him… no… airy was definitely a selfish and inconsiderate asshole (sorry yall) he just isn’t as awful as everyone makes him out to be. airy is not evil, nor is he good, he just kind of sucks LOL. and i love him for that honestly! the thing about this is he should’ve stopped and asked himself “what am i going to gain from this” yet he was so absorbed in trying to hoist himself out of that inevitable pit of dread that he did not care if he destroyed everything else in the process (Might i add that this is a huge parallel to liam’s impulsive vengefulness… i swear i could go on and on about how those two are brothers from another mother) another interesting thing about the hosting stage of airy is the chance that he probably did feel some sort of regret. especially after the shock of breaking his face, being confronted by harsh genuine emotions after such a long time… an iota of the pain and fear he assumed was long gone… as well as the crushing reminder that he basically threw himself and all his senses away just for a stupid game. What a loser amirite. even if he had some semblance of a wish to end ONE, he knew he couldn’t. i’d imagine he told himself mockingly “yeaaaa you basically dug yourself into this, you’re not backing out any time soon” (even though he could’ve easily backed out he was just a loser ass COWARD!)
i didn’t know the paragraphs had character limits! interesting. anyway i can’t help but wonder if airy made that effort to take care of liam in an attempt to break the cycle, the cycle of destroying everything else, including your very self, for the purpose of One thing. maybe airy thinks violence and spite is just a huge waste of time yes of course, but i think he understood liam to some extent (remember what i said about resonance 😁😁😁) i just love how everything about airy is so subtle, yet so major, so jarring and confusing yet when you piece it all together it makes such a scary amount of sense. i love making sense of how nonsensical he is. (of course i do. i am possibly the biggest fan of nonsense there is) now i will add a funny little thing i like about him. i like how he’s all impatient and snarky. and i know you’re probably thinking “franklin how in the abraham lincoln’s bootycheek do you think he’s snarky” Listen, it’s really funny once you actually notice it. there were so many instances where he sounded exasperated with the contestants. my personal favorite being
“yes, as long as you are here, you can’t die”
>”WE CANT DIE?”
“Yes… that’s… what i just said 😐”
he has this barely noticeable “oh my god can you let me do what i need to do” attitude and it’s SO funny. i like to imagine he rolled his eyes a lot while he was hosting. its really funny to imagine. and its also funny to imagine him smiling like an idiot like he did hosting in one 17. that scene was really cute it makes me want to run into ongoing traffic and get continuously ran over by 12 different semi-trucks. if you ignore how miserable the contestants were (sorry contestants) it’s actually really endearing how excited and eager airy was when he got ideas for challenges. i bet he felt so proud of himself it’s honestly kind of sad. he’s sad. what the hell. he really thought he was the SHIT when he said “riches… immortality… whatever your heart desires 😌” Oh my god he’s so pathetic don’t even get me started MY ONLINE CLASSES ARE STARTING I GOTS TO GO BUT ANYWAY FEEL FREE TO ASK FOR AN ANALYSIS ABOUT LITERALLY ANYTHING AIRY RELATED I HAVE MORE THAN A HUNDRED BIBLES’ WORTH OF SHIT TO SAY ABOUT HIM BYEBYE THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS
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oceansblvds · 1 year ago
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after dark ; astarion (baldur's gate)
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pairing ; astarion x reader
words ; 1.9k
about ; "It was a simple plan, really. Learn what makes you happy, use it against you. Copy and paste from what he had been trained for, make you feel instead of lure you away to some castle. Make you vulnerable, make you trust, make you oh so easy to manipulate."
warning(s) ; fluff, romance, eventual smut, the first chapter of a two part series, cazador (warning in itself), astarion needs a hug, astarion's feelings (another warning in itself),
authors note ; heyyyyy. i've been inactive for a while but i guess all it took was a vampire spawn blonde twink to show up for me to start writing again. anyways! this is the first chapter of a two part series. consider me whipped.
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In his years of trying to push away his feelings, none of them compared to this. 
It was an absolute yearning that he had only felt for another person when he wanted to feed, when he wanted to bite something, an almost cannibalistic feeling that had come over him since he had escaped from Cazador’s grasps. He was free. Free to do what he wanted, to bite who he wanted, to feel how ever he wanted and yet, things were still hard for him to manage. The world was so much different than the tiny tidbits of memories that he could remember from his life before being vampire spawn. He couldn’t remember how to act, he couldn’t remember how to feel. It was deep inside of him, and sometimes he wondered if it was there no longer, if all the humanity had been stripped out, leaving him bare and broken, just the way that Cazador had wanted him. 
The moment that he woke up from the nautiloid crash he had thought that being alone would be the best option. He wouldn’t have to listen to anyone else, he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone's incessant whining but his own. But the moment he saw someone coming up to him, just as broken and smokey eyed as him, he had moments of doubt. He didn’t have to be alone anymore, no matter how much he was conditioned to do so. If he was to show any type of connection to any of his ‘brothers’ or ‘sisters’, his master would take them away from him, he would hurt them, and he hoped to whatever god that was out there, if there were any, that it wouldn’t be the fate for you. 
You. 
The thought made his stomach churn. 
It was a simple plan, really. Learn what makes you happy, use it against you. Copy and paste from what he had been trained for, make you feel instead of lure you away to some castle. Make you vulnerable, make you trust, make you oh so easy to manipulate. Copy and paste. Words spoken to you with a type of adoration that only he was good at making sound sweet despite the intentions behind them, make you want. He had done this to hundreds, no, thousands of people in his many years of living and still, you made his plan falter. Only at first ever so slightly, he thought that it was a good thing, maybe you were more easy to manipulate than he previously thought. But then you began to see him, really see him even if you weren’t trying to. You were speaking to him like he was a normal person, like he wasn’t a slave to be ordered around. You didn’t make him bite the drow, you didn’t make him do things that he didn’t want to do despite his words telling you differently. You knew him. 
And it made him absolutely sick. 
Words that he didn’t have the strength to speak continued to pile up in his throat, clawing their deep nails into his flesh with each passing day. But it was a better pain than the one that he would inevitably bring on you. He would rather feel that pain than hurt you. He had come to realize that he would do anything that he could to make sure that you didn’t get hurt. Whether it be standing in front of you when a stray arrow flew or offering to bandage up a cut on your arm, he always made sure you weren’t hurt. 
“Astarion.”
Astarion looked up from the blade of grass he had been staring intently at for the last few minutes, his red eyes shifting instead to you, standing above him with your hands by your side. You’d changed into your nightclothes since the last time he saw you, a few scrapes peppering your face and neck were now visible to him and he could smell you, smell your blood, how tantalizing it was. If he didn’t know any better he would reach out for your hand and plant a kiss on the top of it, a quick thanks for all the things that you didn’t realize meant so much to him. All the things you had done to make him feel human again. Even his name on your lips, Astarion, meant more than it ever had in the past. In previous years it had been said as an order, but the way that you spoke it was so soft, so pretty, so real. If he hadn’t been sitting down on the small blanket outside of his tent he would’ve felt his body wobble. 
“Yes, darling?” 
“I just wanted to make sure that you were alright. I know our mission tomorrow . . . it won’t be easy for you.” 
The mission that you spoke of was something that he had dreamt about since being freed from the nautiloid. Finally taking down Cazador, getting rid of his reign of tyranny and facing his captor for two hundred years. It had taken a while to come into fruition. You and everyone had been coming up with a stable plan for a few days now while you rested from your fight from Moonrise Towers. After a brief word, no, interrogation of a few of his brothers and sisters, you all had learned that Cazador wanted to complete the ritual in a day's time. That meant that you had to strike tomorrow and strike hard. But the nerves had gotten in the way of him getting any sort of substantial rest, and Astarion should’ve known that you would be able to see it. See right through him. 
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be? Finally getting my revenge,” He spoke, almost as though it was a well rehearsed line. His usual tone prickled through the air and his eyes searched for any answer that his deceit had worked on you. 
“I know, but it must be hard to think about going back to that place.” It hadn’t worked. 
You took a kneel down, making your way to the same level as him, sitting oh so close that he was sure if you had gone any further your knees would touch. And that made him chuckle to himself, that he could get so overwhelmed by a mere brush of your touch. “I just want you to make sure that we’re with you all the way. I’m with you all the way,” You almost whispered the last part, and he wondered if you were scared of letting others know of the gentleness you were granting him. Of course, that couldn’t be far from the truth, but it was whatever his mind concocted in the moment. A small smile flashed across your face and he wondered what your lips tasted like. If he would ever be granted that blessing. “You don’t have to hide yourself from me.” The words weren’t spoken but he knew that they were there. You were referring to the night after the Drow incident, when he pulled you aside and gave you a personal thanks for not allowing him to bite that woman. It was the closest you had ever gotten with him, your delicate hand pressed against his own, fingers nimbly interlacing together in a pattern that was only known to the two of you. He knew he didn’t have to hide himself from you, though the fear was still there. He wasn’t sure if it was fear of rejection, or fear of harm. You didn’t deserve to be with someone like him. You deserved to be with someone kind, someone who didn’t have the burden that he had. Someone who could assure you that everything would be fine, someone who could give you safety, give you a family. Astarion wasn’t that person. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be that person. 
“Thank you,” He said with true sincerity, his gaze breaking for a tiny moment as he went to grab your hand, putting his other one on top of yours. Astarion knew he was being greedy of your touch, but perhaps he would die tomorrow. He had to indulge. Even if it was just a mere touch. “You know, you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. I know that facing Cazador is not on your top priority list.” You still hadn’t killed Orin or Gortash yet. You still were no closer to taking down the Absolute’s power, and a part of him felt guilty for having his burdens fall on your shoulders. 
The look on your face almost hinted as though he had offended you. For a moment he believed it was his touch but instead you squeezed his hand, leaning in closer almost instinctively. “Of course I have to come with you. I wouldn’t dream of making you do this alone,” You said. “You know, sometimes it seems as though you can’t comprehend that people care about you, Astarion.” A blush tinted your cheeks. “I care about you, I want to make sure that you’re safe.” 
His body betrayed himself. It was as though he was looking at the scene from above. 
Astarion closed the gap between the two of you, hand reaching for your soft cheek and pulling you in, pressing his lips against your own. He heard a muffled noise come from the back of your throat and waited for you to pull away. 
But you didn’t.
Instead you pushed closer, putting your hand on his own, another making its way to the crook of his neck. Your fingers brushed ever so slightly against the two puncture marks on the side of his neck and instead of fear he felt safe. Pushing away from the kiss, taking a breath, he instinctively looked to the sides, seeing that the tents of your fellow companions had been long since tied up for the night. His gaze fell back on you and your cheeks were even more flushed than they had been just a moment before, if it was even possible. 
You opened your mouth to speak. “I-” 
“I’m really sor-” He blurted. 
“Wasn’t expecting-” 
“I lost control of my-” 
“It’s really oka-” 
“We should forget-” 
“I’m glad you did.” 
The back and forth dissipated and Astarion was sure that he had to have misheard you. You didn’t walk away, you didn’t cower in fear, you only returned your hands to his, index finger brushing against his own as they sat in his lap. He gave you a quizzical look, wondering what could possibly be going on in that beautiful head of yours. 
“I’m glad that you did,” You repeated, a whisper this time. It held the power of a million forces of the sun, the way that you said it. “I used to think that it was silly of me to think that way of you . . . of wanting you during these times but. . .” You trailed off, a tiny look of embarrassment twinged at your face. “I am just glad that my fondness of you makes you feel safe enough, you know, safe enough to feel.” 
Oh, Astarion had been such a fool. 
This entire time he had thought that he was protecting you. All those times that you had helped him overcome whatever he was going through . . . when you would let him feed off of you . . . when you did nothing but allow him to be himself. Not a slave, not something that could be ordered around for another, but as himself, as just Astarion. 
You had been his protector this entire time.
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21-krplnk · 7 months ago
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𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌.
Dick Grayson x Spider-Man Reader
AKA; one of my favorite tropes ever.
CONTAINS !!! masculine reader (only cuz they go by Spider-Man, but I kept gender/pronouns vague), LGBT reader (also kept vague), mentions of stitches, the slightest hint of bisexual Dick, could be translated as a platonic or a pre-slash relationship, and they were roommates.
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“Uh… hey.”
Pausing mid-stitch, Dick looked up at his doorway to see you standing there, your hands shoved into the pockets of your jacket. There was the slightest worried quirk to your brows, your mouth formed into a thin line, and your eyes constantly glanced down the hall like you were planning an escape route. It didn’t take his natural intuition to tell you were troubled by something. Hell, maybe even anxious.
“Hey,” he softly returned, his suturing needle still motionless in his hand. He made sure he was fully facing you, giving you all of his undivided attention as he added, “what’s up?”
“… I… uh.” You gingerly pulled a hand from your pocket to scratch your neck. “I was wondering if you had some time to… talk?”
Talk? Trying not to show his concern, he gave a reassuring smile and scooted over on his bed. “Yeah, sure, of course.” His gaze was back down on his partly stitched-up arm. “Lemme just finish up real quick. You can come in.”
As he quickly got to work with closing up the wound, he could see from the corner of his eye that you hesitated for a moment. Something was clearly weighing on your mind, and the clearer your distress was, the more suspicious he became on what this talk was going to be about. He had a pretty sure guess; relief washed over his conscious just thinking about it. This wasn’t going to be a serious talk. Well, it was, but not in a bad way. Rather, he was at least 99.99% sure it was a seriously good thing. Something to celebrate, even.
You were finally coming out to him.
Admittedly, he’s had his suspicions for a while. He’s known you for a while, enough to trust you with his secret as Nightwing, so he’s picked up on the subtleties you’ve left for him, whether you were aware of it at the time or not. But it was all just speculation until you moved in as his roommate, where he could basically observe you under a microscope 24/7. And when you suddenly became more withdrawn from him, he was vehemently convinced he was right.
Now, despite being pretty sure he’s known before you even knew, he never asked you outright. It’d make him feel terrible if you felt pressured to come out of the closet before you were ready, so he gladly gave you all the time you needed to tell him directly. And of course this didn’t go without dropping subtle hints that he loves you and supports you through all your endeavors.
The bed dipped as you finally sat down on it, just in time for him to tie off his stitch. “So,” he began, trying to keep the knowingness out of his tone, “what did you wanna talk about?”
You didn’t say answer immediately. Rather, you took to staring at his bedroom carpet for a few moments, presumably getting your thoughts organized. “I… need to tell you something.”
Oh, he’s definitely right about this. “Okay…?”
Another moment of silence happened between you two. “… I’ve been keeping this secret for… for a while. And I thought you’d be mad at first, cuz I never told you, cuz I-I was kinda scared, and… well…” you softly shook your head, like you were shaking away an oncoming tangent. “Well, I guess I realized… that… I shouldn’t have been. I shouldn’t have been scared.”
He couldn’t help but put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “(Y/N)…”
“Promise me things won’t change,” you softly pleaded. It was then you finally looked up at him with an apprehension. “Promise things won’t be… different… between us… please?”
“I promise,” Dick confirmed, voice dripping with pure sincerity and encouragement. “(Y/N), things would never be different between us. Not because of something like this. I care for you. And I always will.”
There were several seconds where you scanned his face, trying to find an inkling of a lie. After realizing he was being serious, you took a deep, shuddery breath. “Dick…”
He then watched as you brought a shaky hand up to the zipper of your jacket.
… Woah, woah, woah, wait a minute.
Before he could even process what you could possibly be doing, you pulled open your now unzipped jacket and turned to face him. All he could do was stare dumbly at your scrunched-up grimace as you finally dropped the bombshell.
“… I’m Spider-Man.”
… Huh?
Slowly, his eyes braved the trip downwards to your chest, only to be met by an all-too infamous spider symbol. Oh… Spider-Man. You’re Spider-Man. This was not the coming-out talk he was expecting. At all. Any coherent thought he previously had was thrown out the window in favor of processing… this. You’ve been Spider-Man this entire time and he had no fucking clue? What the hell? How did he just… not pick up on this? Was this why you became so withdrawn? You felt like you had to hide this secret from him of all people? Your own vigilante roommate?
… Ironically, these were probably the same questions he’d have if you actually were coming out to him… in a world where he didn’t already figure it out, anyway.
“… Oh,” was all he could say. He owlishly blinked at the insignia on your chest before looking back up at you. “Wow. Uh… okay. Holy shit, uh…” he ran a hand through his hair, trying to recompose himself. He had this whole spiel prepared about how he more than happily accepts you for who you are, but it became quite apparent he has to make some adjustments on the fly. “You’re Spider-Man. Cool. I… I had no idea.”
You cracked an eye open, cautiously gaging his reaction. “You’re not… mad?”
“Well, I… can’t say I’m not shocked.” He sent a quick glance at the spider symbol. “I mean… I kinda pride myself on my detective skills, so… I guess I’m a little thrown off for not suspecting anything.” His jaw tightened a bit. “You really went above and beyond to hide this from me.”
“I-I know it’s kinda stupid, but… I mean…” you rubbed the back of your neck. “I don’t know, I thought you’d be mad that I didn’t come to you initially after the spider bite.”
He could only stare at you with a blank expression. “A spider bit you?”
“Uh… long story.”
“… Well, then.” He laid back on his bed, resting his hands behind his head as he stared at his ceiling. “Spider-Man’s my roommate. That’s cool. Uh… lotta questions, but I still gotta, y’know, process this.” He turned his attention back on them. “And not because I’m mad or anything. I just… was picturing a whole different conversation when you asked to talk.”
While you seemed to visibly relax at how he was taking this, you also cocked your head to the side in a quizzical matter. “What do you mean?”
“Hope I’m not making any horribly off-base presumptions,” (even though he was certain he was 100% right,) “but I actually thought you finally coming out to me.”
Now it was your turn to be thrown for a loop. After taking in what he said, you turned to face the wall with a simple, “oh” spilling from your mouth. “Guess it was only a matter of time before you figured me out, huh.”
“Hey, I know a thing or two because I’ve seen a thing or two,” he lightly joked.
You looked at him curiously, but didn’t pry, instead shucking off your jacket to fully expose the top half of your suit. “And yet…” you offered him a humored smirk, “you didn’t figure out I was Spider-Man? How does that make sense?”
“I have no frickin’ idea,” he exasperatedly groaned. “So, you mean to say you’ve been sneaking out to do your little spider thing this entire time? Right under my nose?”
“Kinda helps when you sneak out and do your little bat thing,” you countered with a sheepish shrug.
“And speaking of which,” he hoisted himself up into a sitting position, pointer finger jabbing accusingly at you, “we are so patrolling together tomorrow. I wanna see all your neat tricks up close. Got it?”
A warm chuckle bubbles from your chest. “Aye aye, Mr. Nightwing sir.” You even saluted him to sell your tiny quip. “Same time? 6:30?”
“If that works for you, itsy-bitsy.” After giving out his own chuckle, he quirked a brow at you. “But… I gotta know.”
“Yeah?”
“Where do… like… your webs come from?”
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shutupineedtothink · 1 month ago
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[Theory] Agatha All Along title meaning + character arc for Agatha
Back on the theory train — here’s another thing that’s bugging me. Why is the show called Agatha All Along, besides the cute allusion to the song. I know for a fact Jac Schaeffer is too clever and too good of a writer to not make it mean something more.
I’m feeling like it must tie into Agatha’s character arc for the show, so let me take you on a little hypothetical journey here.
Spoilers below the cut!
Now that I’ve rewatched those last few episodes of WandaVision, I can’t get Agatha’s flashback out of my head. Particularly her saying, practically pleading, “I can be good” and her mother replying “no, you cannot.” Like holy shit. That’s a condemnation if I ever heard one. A different kind of curse passed down by a different kind of mother.
I’m starting to wonder… what if Agatha was always this powerful, even without the Darkhold. What if she was so innately powerful, her own mother and her entire coven was afraid of her? Maybe they even suspected her of being the Scarlet Witch, and therefore capable of ending the world itself? And because she was so powerful, and every other witch around her didn’t even want to touch her much less teach her, what if she went looking for resources herself? And whether that was the actual Darkhold or something else “above her station” (… I’m not convinced she had the Darkhold yet at the time of this WV flashback scene) that only served as the indictment the other witches needed to finally attack her?
Basically where I’m going with this is… what if Agatha was raised to believe she was bad? If she was always told she was basically evil incarnate, always feared for her power, too powerful for her own good, too powerful to be good, to anyone… her own coven, her sisters, and her mother were afraid of her and shunned her… what would that core belief do to her?
Let’s also assume her coven were the first (maybe only) people she intentionally killed (and even then, in self defense). The way she looks when she takes the amulet from her mother’s body — she’s angry, but how much of that anger is directed at herself? How much of her thought, well, look, they were right. I am bad. I am evil. And there’s no turning back now. And I hate myself for it.
Except maybe, she tries. She’s constantly trying to escape this fate, this identity that was forced on her. She never joins another coven in the centuries after, not only because no one wants her and she has serious trust issues but because she doesn’t want to hurt them, intentionally or not. She doesn’t need their power, she’s already more powerful than just about any other witch. So she studies. She learns the craft. She controls her power. And she leans into the persona of Agatha the powerful evil witch, because why not? That’s what they all think of her anyway. Let her control the narrative then. She wears her reputation like armor, so that no one can betray her ever again. As Rio says, “you’re vulnerable.” And she replies, “only physically.”
Then at some point, the unthinkable happens. She meets Rio, falls in love with her, figures out who she is (not necessarily in that order) and maybe she thinks, what kind of person falls in love with death? Surely that must be even more confirmation that she’s horrible (despite the fact that Rio is not horrible, not really, and certainly not to her). But she tries not to care, and mostly she doesn’t because she’s in love.
And then she has Nicky, however that happens, and she’s absolutely terrified but he is hers, and she loves him like she never loved anyone before. And she’s determined — he will be powerful but he will never think he’s anything less than because of it. He is finally, finally something good that came from her.
And then he too, is ripped away from her, by her own lover Death, and however it happened (even though it definitely wasn’t intentional on her part), she knows it’s her fault. Because she is evil, she is horrible, and this is her fate. She is betrayed by the people she loves, and she is left behind.
But still! She can’t give him up. She can’t stop trying. And she feels the absolutely insane surge of power in Westview and inserts herself into the Scarlet Witch’s hex, when no other witch would even dare get close, because maybe with enough power, with Wanda’s power, she can remake Nicky. (“And you wanted him back.”) She can create somewhere he’ll be safe and everyone else will be safe, and she won’t cause any more damage, to anyone. Death will never find them. She can raise her son in peace. She never wanted Wanda’s power just for power’s sake, she wanted what Wanda created, but better. Her version.
And then that too, was gone. And once again, she was painted the villain.
And now? Now it seems like all the pieces of her past are coming back to haunt her all at once. A new coven of witches who seem impossible to get along with, her lover Death who she tried to escape for so long, and a boy who looks like he might be the version of her son she was trying to recreate, who seems to adore her despite everything she is and wants to learn magic more than anything else. It’s all come back around.
So maybe, through reasons and events currently unfolding, Agatha’s journey on The Road (and the show) is to realize, or at least begin to maybe believe slightly, that she’s not inherently evil. She’s not an inherently bad person, or bad luck, or horrible. It wasn’t all her fault. Nicky’s death wasn’t her fault, even if she couldn’t save him. Death is part of her journey, as it is for us all, and maybe she can learn to accept that, maybe even love the woman who carries that name again, or at least forgive her.
Maybe this boy isn’t hers, but she can care for him and teach him the magic she never got to teach her own son. There can be a coven who actually has her back, who even sees her as their leader, who knows her and accepts her for what she truly is. Extremely flawed, powerful as all fuck, snarky and sarcastic, but the real her.
Not Agatha the evil witch. Not Agatha the villain (because she never was one). Not Agatha the hero either. Just Agatha. All Along.
———
Eh?? 🤷‍♀️
Now maybe in the show it’s not quite as angsty as all this, but Jac Schaeffer is writing this character too complexly and Kathryn Hahn is playing her too complexly for at least some of this not to be true. Agatha’s not just a villain. She’s not true evil. It’s only episode 4 and we basically know for a fact based on her reactions alone that Agatha did NOT sacrifice her own child for the book of the damned. And I just can’t get over the way Kathryn Hahn almost seems to be playing two characters with Agatha, the (evil) witch and the vulnerable Agatha underneath that only seems to surface for Teen and Rio, so far.
It’s fascinating, and I just want to see her get the depth of story she deserves. And we deserve, tbh.
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buckyispunk · 10 months ago
Text
Falling
Aloha Chapter Three~ Bucky Barnes x f!Reader (no use of Y/N)
read previous parts here!
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (no use of Y/N)
Summary: The events of Ocean Blue from Bucky's perspective, aka Bucky fights to win you back.
A/N: So so soooo sorry for the longer-than-expected wait everyone! Thank you to all who have been sticking it out with me! I hope this chapter makes up for it! Also - discontinuing tags after this chapter, follow @buckyispunkwrites and turn on notifs!!
Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), fingering, discussion of unhealthy relationships, slight overstimulation, dom!Bucky, drinking, insecure reader, please lmk if I missed anything
Word Count: 4.6k
“Dude,” Sam shoves Bucky’s shoulder, “I’m sure she’ll be out soon, you don’t have to keep staring at the door.”
Bucky reverts his attention to his friends, who are now laughing at his infatuated state. He debates for a second whether or not it’s worth it to think of a clever comeback, but he can’t bring himself to care enough. All Bucky cares about is when he’ll next be able to hear your laugh and watch the way your eyes sparkle in the sunlight. All he cares about right now is being with you. 
And that scares Bucky. Absolutely terrifies him. The last time Bucky felt this way about someone, she betrayed every ounce of trust he ever put in her and Bucky had wound up wishing he never even met her in the first place. But even though he’s only known you a few days, something tells Bucky you’re nothing like his ex. 
All he manages is a mumbled shut up. 
He turns from his friends to go order another round, noting that Sam and Steve’s bottles are almost empty as well. As he leans against the bar waiting for the bartender, he feels a tap on his shoulder.
Bucky grins as he turns around. 
“Been waiting for you, do-”
He cuts himself off when he realizes it’s not you he’s talking to, but some blonde woman he doesn’t recognize. 
“Sorry,” he shakes his head, “thought you were someone else,” he explains, smile disappearing from his face. 
“No worries,” she flases her white teeth at him, “I actually think your friend over there is kinda cute. The one that hasn’t stopped laughing for the last five minutes.”
Bucky sighs, relieved that the woman isn’t hitting on him. He’s never been great at rejecting people. 
“Sam’s definitely something,” Bucky tilts his head in amusement.
“I was gonna buy him a drink, what does he like? Couldn’t see his bottle from where I’m sitting.”
“I was just ordering us another round, I’ll just give you his.”
Bucky turns back to the bartender and orders three beers for him and his friends.
“Thanks. Now let’s just hope he doesn’t fall out of his chair again when I give it to him.”
Bucky laughs as he remembers when, a few minutes ago, Sam had fallen to the ground laughing at Steve’s insistence that the Giants are super bowl bound this year. In that moment, as he listened to Sam’s hysterical laughter and Steve’s continued argument, he found himself wondering whether you’d be laughing along with Sam or if you were a die-hard Giants fan, like Steve. 
He’s realized there’s so many things he doesn’t know about you: your favorite kind of flower, how you spend your time on rainy Sundays, where you grew up, whether you eat pumpkin or apple pie on Thanksgiving. And this realization has sparked an endless curiosity in Bucky. He has a sudden urge to ask you every possible question he can think of and then memorize each and every answer you tell him until he’s familiarized himself with every nook and cranny of your beautiful mind. 
The bartender sets the drinks on the bar, snapping Bucky out of his trance. 
“Have at it,” Bucky hands the woman the beer and she heads toward their seats. 
Sam and Steve usually have no trouble finding women wherever the three of them go. Occasionally Bucky would get hit on at the bar or at a ball game, usually only indulging them for a minute or two before escaping to the bathroom. He had gone on a few dates over the years, but those only discouraged him.
One time his date had gotten so drunk that Bucky had to practically carry her to her door, where she then invited Bucky inside with clear intentions - an offer which Bucky had politely declined, of course. The girl after that had looked up from her phone no more than five times throughout the night, making halfhearted conversation as she scrolled through social media before thanking Bucky for dinner and ordering an Uber home. Needless to say, Bucky hasn’t had the best dating experiences since he’s been stateside. 
Sam, on the otherhand, has a whole folder on his phone filled with different dating apps - Kinder? Tumble? - he doesn’t remember what they’re called. For the life of him, Bucky can’t understand the appeal of swiping through woman after woman and judging them based off of a couple of pictures. Cliches be damned, he needs the butterflies in his stomach that he can’t seem to get rid of when he looks into a girl’s eyes for the first time, testing her name out on his lips, the involuntary grin on his face after making her blush, the excitement of trying to earn her phone number so he can ask her out. He wants a Hallmark-esque story to tell about how he met his future wife. 
At that, Bucky’s thoughts reflexively drift back to you and he turns to eye the door again. Seeing no sign of you, he lets out a sigh and heads back toward his friends. He sees the woman all but clinging onto Sam, who doesn’t mind one bit - if the grin on his face is anything to go by. Bucky hands Steve his beer and sits, passing the time discussing football with Steve. 
Another twenty or so minutes go by before Bucky gets sick of watching Sam not-so-discreetly exchange dirty talk with the woman. Bucky finishes his beer and stands up to leave once Steve heads to the bathroom. Sam doesn’t see Bucky walk away - his tongue is too deep into the woman’s mouth for him to notice anything else. 
Bucky heads toward the hotel, beginning to get worried about you. He gets into the elevator and presses the 5. Bucky doesn’t even notice the way he nervously taps his foot as the elevator climbs to your floor. He makes his way to your room and raises his hand, rapping his knuckles against the thick wood.
No answer.
He waits a few seconds before knocking again, harder.
Bucky feels his heart rate pick up ever so slightly when he calls your name and still doesn’t hear a response. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to call you and stops suddenly, cursing himself under his breath.
He’d never even gotten your phone number. 
Fuck.
He slips his phone back into his pocket and his fingers brush aroom key. Your room key.
You had given him your room key earlier. 
“Are you in there, doll? If you want me to go away then just say so. Promise I won’t be upset, sweetheart, just wanna make sure you’re okay.”
He knocks one last time and pulls the key card out to unlock the door. 
“I’m coming in, doll.”
He cautiously steps into your room, calling out your name again. He does a quick scan of the bedroom and the bathroom before concluding that you’re not there. 
As he heads back down to the lobby, he realizes he’s more frantic than he has any right to be. You’re not his to worry about. You’re not his to take care of. You’re not his. But he can figure that out later. Right now, he needs to make sure you’re okay. 
He walks through the lobby and the gift shop racking his brain for anything he could have done to upset you. You seemed understanding when he left you in your room. Maybe you felt rejected when he declined your offer to shower with you? If only you’d known how hard it was for him to say no to you, how his self-control almost hadn’t been strong enough. 
He rounds the corner to the hotel bar and instantly feels a weight lift off of his shoulders when he sees you sitting at the bar, wearing the Hawiian shirt that mirrors his own. Bucky makes his way across the room in quick strides.
“Hey, sweetheart. Are you okay?” He places his hand on your shoulder and you turn to look at him. 
Any relief Bucky had felt just moments ago is gone as soon as he notices your tear-streaked face and watery eyes. He instantly reaches a gentle hand out to cup your face, which you promptly smack away.
Bucky raises his hands in the air, wanting to show that he isn’t a threat. A distressed and confused expression makes its way across Bucky’s face as his mind begins to race. He immediatley searches his memory again for what he could have done to upset you.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, ready to come up with a solution; ready to console you; ready to do everything in his power to take your pain away. This is the first time Bucky’s seen you this upset, and in this moment he decides he’ll do his damndest to make sure he never sees you this upset again. 
“Fuck off, Barnes,” you scoff, turning back towards the bar and downing the last of your drink.
Bucky stands with a dumbfounded look on his face, hands frozen in the air. Determined to make sure you’re okay, Bucky takes a seat next to you while you order another drink. 
“Doll, what happened?” 
Bucky feels as if his heart is about to pound out of his chest. It’s physically hurting him to see you like this, and it hurts him even more knowing that, based off your hostility towards him, it might be his fault. 
“Did I do something, sweetheart?”
You turn to Bucky, eyes lit with what Bucky can only describe as rage. 
“I don’t know, maybe you should ask that girl you were buying a drink for at the bar,” you scoff, an incredulous smirk on your face as the bartender places a fresh drink in front of you.
Bucky feels his whole body go tense at your words. His eyes close as he sucks in a strained breath, realizing how it must have looked if you had seen the interaction from afar. 
“Please, let me explain. It wasn’t what it looked like, I promise.” 
“Yeah right, James. Was that not you buying a drink for a fucking supermodel out there? Maybe it was your doppelganger out there that was laughing with her? I’m sure you weren’t trying to get in her pants. I’m sure it couldn’t have been the fact that there’s a hundred better-looking, more interesting women at this resort right now. I’m sure it wasn’t that you got what you wanted from me an-”
“Enough,” Bucky’s stern tone cuts you off. 
He looks around and sees the attention your little spat has drawn. He softly says your name, ocean blue eyes boring into your own, pleading. 
“Please, doll, let’s talk. Can we get out of here?”
He watches you contemplate for a moment before responding. Bucky’s eyes may have softened your resolution because you give in.
“Fine. I’ll hear you out, but that’s all I’m promising.”
“Of course,” Bucky nods enthusiastically as he stands from his chair, “if you still want nothing to do with me after I explain myself then I won’t bother you anymore. Swear.”
Bucky watches as you attempt to hop down from your barstool in your drunken state. You barely land on your feet, stumbling forward. Bucky reaches out instinctively, wrapping his hands around your forearms before you land face first on the hard floor. 
“Careful, honey.”
You remove your arms from his grasp and head towards the lobby, Bucky following behind you. Bucky stops you with a light hand on your shoulder in front of the gift shop.
“Hey can you wait right here for a second?”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now, James?”
Bucky tries to ignore the twinge of pain he feels as you call him by his first name again. 
“Please, just trust me. I’ll be back in one minute, just sit right here.”
He directs you to a couch before going into the hotel’s little store. Bucky tries to calm himself down as he walkes toward the little fridge and grabs a bottle of water. He struggles to wrap his head around that fact that the two of you went from playing football and scuba diving earlier today to him having to beg to talk to you. 
He tries his best to be polite when the cashier asks him about his night, meanwhile he can’t shake the image of your devastated eyes at the bar. He couldn’t let you go on thinking he’d do that to you. Couldn’t let you go on thinking that he would use you and throw you aside like that. 
After he pays, he grabs the water bottle and thanks his lucky stars when you’re still sitting where he left you.
“Drink this please, doll.” He extends the water bottle.
He’s expecting you to put up a fight, but to his surprise, you snatch the bottle from him and down half of it in one go.
“Good girl.”
Bucky doesn’t notice the effect his words have on you, even in your outraged state. 
“Let’s go outside.”
Bucky’s hand hovers over your lower back as you walk, ready to reach out and steady you in case you stumble. Bucky guides you to the beach, almost empty at this hour. When you’re far enough away from the few people scattered around, Bucky plops down onto the sand and reaches a hand up to help you down next to him. 
After you sit, Bucky keeps a lose grip on your hand. When you don’t make any attempts to pull it away, he tightens his grip and pulls your joint hands to rest on his thigh.
Bucky takes a deep breath before beginning. 
“After I left you in your room, I went down to meet Sam and Steve at the bar. At one point, I got up to get everyone another round of drinks. That’s when that woman approached me. I was afraid she was going to hit on me at first, and if she had, believe me, I would have turned her down.”
“She wasn’t hitting on you?”
“No, sweetheart, she told me she thought Sam was cute. She wanted to buy him a drink and didn’t know what to get him, so I just gave her the beer I had bought for Sam and let her give it to him. She took the beer over and was sitting with Sam when I got back. For the most part, her and Sam were talking and kissing while me and Steve tried our best to ignore them. Eventually, Steve got up to go to the bathroom and I came to look for you because I had no desire to be around them any longer and I was worried about you.”
“Oh. So you and her weren’t flirting? You didn’t buy the drink for her?”
“‘course not doll.”
“Shit, I’m sorry, Buck.”
Bucky feels the tension seep out of his bones when you call him ‘Buck’ instead of ‘James’. 
“Don’t be, doll. I’m sorry for how that looked. And even more, I’m sorry that you thought I’d ever do that to you. I would never use you like that then just move on to another girl like it never happened. Besides, I haven’t even begun to get I want from you, honey.” 
“Huh?”
“Earlier you said I’d  just taken what I wanted from you. That’s not true.”
Bucky won’t have everything he wants from you until you know that being able to spend these last few days with you has made him feel like the luckiest man alive. Until he’s convinced you that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever met. Until he’s able to help you overcome all those unwarranted insecurities stupid fucking Brock put in your head. Until you’re his. 
Bucky’s afraid to say all of this out loud, both because he doesn’t want to scare you off and because he’s not ready to admit to himself how quickly and deeply he fell for you. So instead, he brings your hand up to his mouth and presses a kiss to it. 
Almost as if you understand, you don’t press the topic, just let out a little sigh at the feeling of Bucky’s soft lips on your skin. 
“I really am sorry though, Buck. I overreacted. I guess I just thought you got bored of me and decided to leave, like Brock. Besides, it’s not like we’re exclusive. I mean we hardly know each other, it’s not my place to tell you what you can or can’t do with other women.”
“Doll, I wouldn’t waste time with other women when we’ve only got a few more days here. I’d spend every second of my time left here with you if I could,” Bucky rubs his thumb along your hand, hoping that you believe him. “Listen closely. I understand why you got upset. It looked bad. Also, Brock is quite possibly the dumbest man on the planet for having someone as fucking perfect as you and ‘getting bored’. I don’t know how you put up with that undeserving piece of shit for so long. You deserve to be fucking worshipped, don’t ever settle for anything less.”
“Thank you, Bucky,” he doesn’t miss the way your eyes start to water again at his words.
“Promise me, doll.”
“Promise what?”
“Promise me that you’ll never settle for anything less.”
Though the thought of you being with anyone else at all pains Bucky - he knows it shouldn’t -, he needs to know that no matter who you end up with after you leave Hawaii, you’re being treated right. 
You hesitate for only a moment before responding.
“I promise, Buck.”
“So,” Bucky braces himself, “are we okay? If you want nothing to do with me, like I said before, I’ll leave you alone.”
“Yeah, Bucky” your lips curl into a gentle smile, “we’re okay.”
Bucky lets out a sigh of relief when you scoot yourself closer to him and lean against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you tight, pressing a kiss to your head. 
“Good. Now drink the rest of your water, sweetheart.”
Bucky uncaps the bottle and hands it to you. You sip on the water and Bucky feels at peace for the first time in hours, with you in his arms and the waves crashing onto the sand in front of him. He could stay here forever, he thinks. It’d give him plenty of time to ask you all those questions. Before he can get the chance, though, he feels you shiver. 
“Shit, honey, are you cold?”
Bucky had been too preoccupied thinking to notice the breeze blowing against the two of you. 
“Let’s go back,” he doesn’t wait for an answer from you before standing and helping you to your feet. 
As soon as you stand, you interlace Bucky’s fingers with your own and the two of you make your way back to the hotel. You seem to be walking a lot more steady now, the bottle of water and time spent on the beach having sobered you up.
Bucky fills the walk back with apologies for hurting you and you reply with your own apologies for jumping to conclusions. By the time the two of you reach your floor, you agree to leave the events of the night behind you and move on.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” Bucky questions, getting ready to say goodnight and turn toward his room.
Your response surprises Bucky.
“Do you want to come back to my room?” you smirk at Bucky and begin to run your hand up his forearm.
“Are you sure, doll? We don’t need to do anything.”
After everything that’s happened today, the last thing Bucky wants to do is make you feel like you’re being used. He needs you to know he’s spending time with you for the right reasons. 
“I want to if you do, Buck.”
“Okay, but only if you’re certain.”
Bucky wouldn’t even be considering it if he didn’t think all the alcohol had worn off, but he hasn’t seen any signs of intoxication since the walk to the beach.
“You made me a promise in the dressing room.”
Bucky’s eyes darken as he recalls you getting on your knees for him in the hotel gift shop earlier. 
“I did, didn’t I?” 
Bucky leads the two of you to your room and unlocks it with the key card he still has. 
“Can’t leave me hanging, Bucky.”
He’s sure you’re more than ready for some attention after he had edged you.
“You’re right about that baby.” he opens the door and walks in behind you.
Bucky can tell by the way you stand awkwardly in front of the bed, you’re waiting for him to give you an order. The realization makes his dick jump in his boxers. He typically prefered to be dominant in bed, and he’s grateful for the way you seem so eager to submit and let him take the reigns. 
“Listen, doll, tonight is all about you. You were so good for me today. You did perfect and you earned your reward.”
Even if he didn’t actually do anything wrong, Bucky can’t help but feel responsible for the tears you shed today. He wants to rid the image of your watery eyes staring at him with hate from his mind and replace it with one of your face scrunched up in pleasure as you scream him name. 
He needs to make it up to you. 
Bucky pulls his shirt over his head as he stalks toward you, throwing it on the floor. 
“Take your clothes off and get on the bed.”
Bucky does nothing to hide the ravenous look in his eyes as he watches you undress, he just palms his rapidly growing erection. He lets out a low curse when you expose your breasts to him. You remove your shorts, then look up to Bucky with a questioning look as you thumb the waistband of your panties.
“All of it, doll.”
You pull the fabric down your legs and lay back on the bed, waiting for Bucky’s next move. 
Bucky allows himself to revel in this moment only for a second - you spread naked on the bed, waiting for him with desperate,  pleading eyes - before he reminds himself that he’s supposed to be making it up to you right now.
Bucky stands by the edge of the bed and grabs your ankles. He drags your body down the bed with ease until your hips are on the end of the bed, legs hanging over the side. Bucky kneels down onto the floor, face level with your center.
Bucky is only slightly shocked at how wet your core is. He can’t help the groan that escapes him as he watches your slick pool out. 
“Fuck, doll. You’re killing me here.”
You buck your hips up into the air seeking any sort of relief and Bucky throws your legs around his shoulders. He doesn’t even give you a chance to beg, he dives right in. He laps up the wetness that has escaped from your pussy before suckling your clit into his mouth and tonguing it. 
You let out a shriek and it only spurs Bucky on. 
He alternates between fucking his tongue into you and suctioning your clit between his full, pink lips. 
“Fu- Bucky! I’m cl- oh god- I’m close!” Bucky thinks that he could spend the rest of his life down here, on his knees for you, if you continue making sounds like that. 
He grips your thighs around his head, fingers almost bruising. He rapidly flicks his tongue over your clit and you come with a moan that Bucky thinks may be the second-best thing he’s ever heard - number one being your laugh, of course. 
Bucky returns to your hole to drink up all of your release. He listens to your gasps as you ride out your high, hips bucking into his face. 
“Okay, Buck, it’s- fuck- it’s too much, baby,” you try to pry your legs open around his head but his grip is unrelenting.
Bucky lifts his mouth off of you just long enough to say, “Not yet, honey. I want one more,” before he reattatches his mouth to your sensitive bundle of nerves.
He meant it when he said he could stay down here forever. He pays no mind to his stiff knees - sore from the hard floor, or the wet spot formed on his boxers from his leaking dick. He wants you to forget about all the pain you felt today, wants to eat you out until all you know is pleasure, until the only word your mouth is able to form is his name. 
“Holy fu-ahh,” you grab the comforter beneath you for dear life.
“You can do it, doll. Don’t you wanna be a good girl for me?”
Bucky brings a hand up inbetween your legs and slips two fingers into your soaked pussy with no resistence. 
“So fucking soaked baby. This little pussy really was desperate for me, huh?”
He curls his fingers until he feels that spongy spot inside you and continues brushing up against it when he hears your moans. 
“Yes, Bucky! Right there, please!”
“No need, to beg tonight doll. I know exactly what you want and I’m gonna give it to you.”
Bucky sucks your mouth into his clit and ever so gently scrapes it with his teeth, eliciting a borderline pornographic moan of his name from you. He continues curling his fingers and focusing his mouth on your clit.
You don’t give him a verbal warning, but Bucky knows you’re about to come undone again by your breathing and the way you’re squeezing his fingers so tight he’s afraid you’ll push them out. He eats you through it, fucking you on his digits as you moan and gasp for breath. 
He pulls his hand from your core and fucks you with his tongue until you start to whine from overstimulation and only then does he pull away, rising to his feet. 
“Did so fucking perfect for me, baby,” he praises, “I’ll be right back, promise.”
He bends down and places a kiss on your damp forehead, and heads for the bathroom. Bucky is reminded of his hard-on when his zipper presses against it rather uncomfortably. He shucks off his pants and shoes on the way to the bathroom. 
He grabs a washcloth and dampens it in the sink with warm water, and returns to you in his boxers. He gets back down onto his knees and spreads your legs. He drags the warm cloth through your folds, cleaning up the mixture of his spit and your arousal. Once he’s done the best he can, careful to avoid your oversensitive clit, he presses a kiss to the top of your mound. 
He stands and throws the washcloth into the pile with the rest of the dirty clothes. 
“Tired, doll?” Bucky fights back a laugh at the way your eyelids droop, struggling to stay open. 
“No, Buck, lemme take care of you,” he sees your eyes drop to his boxers.
“Not a chance, honey. Told you tonight was all about you. Time for bed,” he smiles fondly at your attempt to take care of him.
You put up a brief fight, but Bucky manages to get you under the covers and climbs in next to you. You immediately curl into his chest when he’s beside you and Bucky’s thankful you can’t see the grin on his face. 
He brings a hand to your hair and smoothes it down. 
“Goodnight, angel.”
The only response Bucky gets from you is the light sound of your breaths, hot against his chest. 
Once he’s positive you’re asleep, he allows himself to admit out loud, “I think I’m falling for you, doll.”
To be continued...
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