#and if it would have been beneficial to either of the.
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
vampiremourning · 11 months ago
Text
anyway as soon as i pry myself off this couch im gonna share some screenshots of bg3 protags on my sideblog. just gotta like. reach the desk first.
#all i can think about is the shelves im gonna get installed here over the next little bit fdghj#yall dont understand its so hard to keep things clean and brain friendly when you just dont have anywhere to put stuff.#hellish#& then i get overwhelmed and turn into a massive bitch when i try to get it under control fdgh#instead its been like. 2 straight days of dopamine i fucking swear?? my body probably definitely wouldnt let me do this for a living#(my hip is screamingggg dfghgjj) but actually if i could & if i could work in a team then yeah. ykw i enjoy it.#organization go brrrrrrr#i dont think she was expecting me to work that fast either but ive been like a feral animal. skittering over clutter.#finding Spots for Things#okay i lied the flood was actually beneficial in one way to me specifically.#estranged father just forgot a Bunch of tool sets here & ive claimed them now fdghjk#that nail gun is MINE#she suggested i look out for an actual tool chest/bench thing (ykw the ones with wheels and stuff) for everything and i havent been that#excited for anything in months fdgh tools are expensive alright. too bad he took the table saw.#i dont talk much abt my Masc Hobbies as i call them lmao no real reason to but hoooboy i love to Build Things#give me that ikea desk ill have it done in an hour or less every time#maybe trade school is still on the horizon for me gfhj always wanted to Weld Stuff i think id be good at it#as much as i fuckin loathe yard maintenance i was a real garage sooooo bad its not even funny#shame i wasnt just inherently expected to know car stuff tm i feel like i would have loved it too#scarrier to learn on your own later in life especially with a lease vehicle but ill get there eventually#anyway yeah bg3! new mods. new ocs#have not done much with them yet but they Exist and theyre pretty
8 notes · View notes
caterpillarinacave · 8 months ago
Note
So you choose not to step through the door, after all why mess with nonsense when you're already in nonsense? You check the items in your pockets, your phone you shut off to conserve power, the dog tag, key and top clink together but offer no help, and when you fiddle with the walkie-talkie you manage to get it to turn on, excitedly you call out to the void but only static responds, which is disappointing but predictable, so you put the items away and hunker down for the night, looking at the sky you can see that the stars seem strange, though you're no expert, and the moon seems to have a second smaller moon near it which looks pretty cool but is a stark reminder of how not on your own world your predicament has landed you.
In the morning you begin looking through the nearby bushes and plant life taking note of anything strange, you notice the berries you had been picking before you stepped through the door are also growing around here, they look and taste the same, and some other plants seem pretty similar to the forest from before as well, although the further away from the door you go the more unfamiliar plants you come across (of course that may just be your lack of familiarity with plants) and the few animals you have noticed are bizarre in a way that you can't explain, like the people from town, they seem almost perfectly familiar, just a little off and the noises they make have you thinking they wouldn't be able to communicate with their counterparts either, brushing aside another branch you come across a strange funnel made of metal which you pocket and what looks to be a regular whistle, you wipe it down and blow but hear nothing aside from the air going through, you consider it is either broken or maybe a dog whistle, as you go to put it away you hear something big running in your direction, before you can decide how to react a large creature storms out of the bushes and stops in the clearing before you, it's huge as a horse with paws and sharp teeth it licks as it looks around and spots you, it shakes its head again reminding you of a horse, then steps closer before turning and staring expectantly, you get the feeling it's waiting on you, impatiently, and you realize it seems to expect you to get on its back. Do you get on?
Yes.
#I am a terrible terrible Irish child#Clearly all those folk tales whose only moral was “don’t climb on the strange horse” were lost on me. Technically not a horse though. So. H#Uh please don’t run into the bog with my on your back strange horse thing.#…This may be one of my worse ideas#On one hand moving away from what appears to be the only connection my world doesn’t sound like a great idea#Back through the door is logically the the best bet. However I’ve already explored the area#The only thing to do would be to just sit there for hours and that will get me nowhere. The things that do have leads like the walkie-#Sputtering are things to pay attention to but not things that are likely to change if I don’t move. The whistle is the newest thing-#And let’s be real I’ve been in the bramble for like 14 hours without the neurospicy meds I am teetering on dangerously antsy#Probably better to get on the horse before I come up with something more stupid#It’s interesting my world flora seems to surround the door. I wish I’d payed more attention before I stepped through#If the nearby flora on the other side seemed like it would come from this world it would suggest that the door just leaks between universes#In two ways. If it’s earths flora then it’s either only leaking one way which we could no from one step through#Or - which we will not know but should pay attention for if we step into some other world - if the earths flora shows up around EVERY porta#Which would suggest earth is the base in some way#It might be beneficial to climb a tree to try and see farther out#Though I don’t exactly get many opurtunited to haul myself up a tree so I would put to much stock in a)my upper body strength#And b) my ability to chose a tree that won’t kill me#It’s defintley worth taking in as much info as possible. I’ll try and notice things like different winds gravity tempature ect#What should i tag this all. Help I got lost in a blackberry bush? Anon who takes me to alternate planes of reality?#I know#Guys I got lost in a bush#That’s a good one. Nothing weird there at all.#FINE I’ll rage it “guys I got lost in a blackberry bush”#I wonder what makes things so familiar. Perhaps this world exists very closely to the other. Perhaps they’ve crossed paths before.#Perhaps they’ve shown up in our dreams. Perhaps I have bad memory and my brain gaslights itself into thinking everything’s familiar#I wonder maybe the horse is a horse/dog thing- that would explain the likeness to the dog whistle (?)#This can’t get any worse I say doing something that could very much make it worse#Eh what’s the worst that can happen. At least I don’t have to pay taxes in this world#Guys I got lost in a black berry bush
3 notes · View notes
ladysharmaa · 8 months ago
Text
Why don't you love me?
Anthony Bridgerton x reader
Summary: Y/n and Anthony are in an arranged marriage. When she stops trying to make the relationship work and be the perfect wife, Anthony realizes what he's lost. Will he be able to get her back?
(gif is not mine)
Tumblr media
It wasn't the marriage she wanted. And it wasn't what he wanted, because, in fact, he didn't even want to be married. And he didn't mind showing it. But for Y/n, she tried to make the best of their unfortunate situation.
It all started at the beginning of the season when Violet Bridgerton decided that her firstborn had been single for too long. So, she spoke to Y/n's parents, who were good friends of hers, and they both decided that a marriage between the two would be beneficial to both families. Anthony was going to have the support of someone who would take Violet's place as Viscountess and Lady Bridgerton. For Y/n's life, in this society, having a husband was essential and this marriage would allow social advancement.
Thus, Anthony and Y/n agreed with this decision. The preparation for the wedding was carried out quickly and this event was the biggest news for days. Lady Whistledown didn't help matters either by immediately releasing an advert showing her doubts about Anthony having a wife.
This only worsened Y/n's mood, who already feared being married to Viscount Bridgerton, as she was now doubting all the lovers Anthony could take to their bed. Would he not respect their marriage? Did she just want an heir and take care of the children? With these doubts, she said the "I do" in front of hundreds of people watching the ceremony, and allowed just one tear to fall.
From the beginning, Anthony made a point of making it clear that their marriage was purely a compromise, and that he would never truly love her. He was going to fulfill his role and try to have an heir and outside the house, they would act like a happy couple, but it wouldn't go beyond that. In silence, Y/n just offered him a nod, showing that she understood.
However, since then, nothing has happened between them. Anthony allowed her to have her own room, something Y/n was more than grateful for. Having to look at the face of her husband who would never love her every time she fell asleep would be too painful.
She was expecting that on some nights he would enter her room to try to get her with child. But none of that happened, which only confused Y/n more. Was he so disgusted by the idea of being married to her that he didn't even want to have pleasure with her?
So she tried to distract herself with tasks that could take some of the work off Anthony's shoulders and try to be the perfect wife. But Anthony still refused to spend more than five minutes alone with her. At breakfast, he was already at the office when Y/n woke up to go eat, at night he preferred to spend time with his brothers instead of returning home. He was making everyone's life difficult and Y/n was starting to get more and more sad. Would this be her routine until the end of her life? Trying to please a husband who didn't want her?
It was on a summer afternoon that Y/n, upon returning from a social gathering with Anthony's mother and sister, realized how hot the mansion was. She quickly remembered how Viscount's office, the few times she had been there, was directly in the sun which made it even hotter. So she decided to be brave and try to have at least a friendly relationship with her husband, so she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
With growing nerves, Y/n went to Anthony's office door and knocked on the wood. After hearing Anthony's voice, she opened the door, finding him plus Benedict, who had become good friends with Y/n.
"Oh, I apologize if I am interrupting." she said shyly, keeping to the doorway.
"You are." Anthony immediately agreed in a deep voice, not paying attention to her and turning his attention back to the papers.
At the same time, his brother hurried to assure Y/n, "You're not interrupting anything. You even saved me from Anthony's boring lecture here."
The woman smiled uncomfortably. "Right. I just came to bring you a cup of water. It's so warm outside. I wasn't aware you were here, Mr. Bridgerton, but I can go and also bring you some water."
"Thank you, Y/n, I would—"
However, he couldn't finish his sentence as Anthony hit the table, causing his wife to jump in fright and immediately take a step back. Her reaction made Anthony's expression show some regret, but he quickly hid it. A silence fell between the three.
"I'm fed up, Y/n! Can't you understand that men are trying to work?! Go back to your life of looking at flowers and walking around without having to do anything and leave!"
Y/n's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to understand what had just happened. Finally, she pursed her lips and her eyes turned cold. "I apologize, Lord Bridgerton. It won't happen again. If you'll excuse me."
When she left the room, Benedict looked at his brother in shock. "That was so harsh. The poor girl was trying to be nice and cared enough to bring you a glass of water. If you don't want it, I'll have it. I'm talking about the glass and her."
"Don't you dare." he muttered with a clenched jaw, glaring furiously at Benedict. Where did this anger come from just thinking about Y/n with another man? "Now, let's go back to discuss how you spent money on a bet."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Y/n's behavior with Anthony changed completely. Everyone noticed that the Viscountess finally reached her limit, and stopped being the friendly wife, now looking coldly at her husband whenever they passed each other in the mansion. However, as a couple and heads of the family, they still had obligations to fulfill together.
Public appearances were more tense, but they still managed to keep a smile on their faces and talk to all the ladies who asked about their marriage and when they would have children, giving short answers so that nothing would end up in Lady Whistledown's hands. They also attended a horse race, even betting on different horses that would win. Y/n ended up winning the bet, and her smug look irritated Anthony for the rest of the day, something his brothers were quick to tease him about.
But despite not liking Anthony after his cruel words, which Y/n still thought about constantly, she adored his sisters and mother. They had accepted Y/n into the family, including her in their gatherings and even being a should to cry on. Daphne had already said more than once that she would have no problem going to Anthony and try to talk some sense into him, but Y/n refused. Anthony already didn't like her, if he thought she was turning his family against him he would hate her even more. And she didn't need to make her life worse than it already was.
One day, when she went with Anthony to the Bridgerton mansion to drop off some documents, Hyacinth, Anthony's younger sister, took her aside. Y/n followed the girl to the bathroom where she, with teary eyes and trembling lips, asked her if she was going to die when she started bleeding from her lady parts. Hyacinth also revealed to her that she wanted to go to her mother, but she had gone shopping with Francesca and was alone at home with just Collin. Y/n, very calmly and gently, assured her that it was a normal thing and that all women went through this, explaining what she should do.
It was no secret that Y/n was happy that Hyacinth trusted her with this scary situation and that she was able to help the girl. Despite all the problems in her marriage, she now had a role in helping Anthony's sisters and she never wanted to fail in that.
To Y/n's surprise, Hyacinth ended up giving her a big hug, remaining attached to her for the rest of the afternoon. Her period was making her so affectionate, more than she already was, that Y/n couldn't stop a big smile from appearing on her face at receiving so much affection.
Anthony, when he finally finished talking to Collin about the documents he brought, I was surprised to see his sister on the couch hugging Y/n. "Hyacinth, what are you doing?"
"Hugging my sister-in-law, brother. But you don't know what that is, do you?" she snapped. The girl's change in mood made Y/n have to put a hand over her mouth to keep Anthony from hearing the laughter that escaped her.
The shock on Anthony's face was comical. His little sister was basically choosing Y/n over him. And in truth, he didn't judge her because his wife was, without a doubt, better than him. And she deserved so much better.
On the other hand, his heart warmed when he saw the bond that the two had created. It was clear that Y/n felt great affection for his family. Could it be that if he had accepted this marriage from the beginning, they would now be a happy family? That they would spend afternoons together, cuddling on the couch and talking to his siblings? All these thoughts were racing through his mind, and the guilt was growing so much that he felt like he was going to vomit.
"Lord Bridgerton?" that sweet voice he had come to adore brought him out of his thoughts. He hated that since he snapped at her, she never called him by his first name again.
"What?" he asked, still disoriented.
Y/n was looking at him like he was stupid. "I asked if you were ready to leave. Hyacinth already went to her room to rest. I would like to do the same. So you must make haste."
Her bossy tone almost made his lips curl into a smile, but he controlled himself in time. "Of course, wife. We shall leave now. But I have to ask, what happened between you and my sister?"
"All you need to know is that she's fine and she's a woman now. But don't worry, as your wife, I'll handle these situations. Unless you prefer me to go look at the flowers, take a walk, and do nothing?"
The hint, which was delivered with great anger, caused the man to blush in shame and lower his head. Y/n didn't wait for his answer, taking her coat from a maid and walking to the carriage. He had screwed everything up.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
A few more days had passed and the situation between Y/n and Anthony had only gotten stranger. The day after the situation with Hyacinth, Y/n was coming down from her room to go get breakfast, as she always did, when she came across Anthony at the table, appearing to be waiting for her to eat.
Y/n stopped abruptly, looking at him in shock. "What are you doing?"
"I'm waiting for you so we can have breakfast. I have to go see my brothers again today to talk business, so I was thinking you could come with me and spend some time with my sisters. My mother She's also been saying how she hasn't seen you in a while. That is, only if you want to go. If not, I'll just go… Or I'll stay here to keep you company, whatever you want." he choked up, finishing his speech by drinking some milk, perhaps to calm his nerves.
Y/n remained in place without moving. She looked at Anthony strangely, as if doubting that those words had even come out of his mouth.
"It was silly of me to ask—"
"No," she interrupted him. "It's fine. I would actually like to go and spend time with your sisters. They are lovely. I shall go get ready then."
"Aren't you going to have breakfast with me first?"
"Lord Bridgerton, I've been eating breakfast alone since we got married and I came to live with you. I think you can handle doing the same for a day. Excuse me." she said with an exaggerated smile, turning her back on him and starting to go back to her room. However, she turned back to go get a cake that was on the table. "But I'm hungry so I will eat this in my chambers."
"Call me Anthony!" he exclaimed before she was completely gone. He had a desperate look, almost looking like he needed to hear his name come out of her lips.
"No."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Like every year, the Queen decided to throw a ball to celebrate the Diamond of the Season. The most eligible maiden on the marriage market. Y/n still remembers the first ball she attended — Daphne was the diamond of the season, but Y/n also managed to dance with a few suitors. Of course, in the end, she didn't end up marrying any of them. However, the nerves she felt at that ball were equal to or less than what she felt today: her first ball married to Anthony.
The Viscount and Viscountess had entered together, her hand resting on his arm, followed by Violet and the rest of his siblings. Tonight they would have to be on the lookout for suitors who might want to dance with Francesca, the diamond of the season.
Anthony quietly appreciated his wife. She looked breathtaking in her dress, her hair neatly tied back that showed off her majestic earrings, given by Anthony on their wedding day. He was proud to have a wife like Y/n, and he regreted that he hadn't shown it since day one.
While the Bridgertons started to go their own way, interacting with other people and dancing, Y/n preferred to stay in the corner watching the couples dancing. She longed to experience that with Anthony, but not in a forced way like some were. No, she wanted it to be felt, for them to dance to the music and really appreciate that moment.
But instead of her husband approaching her, it was another man, Earl Cavendish. Y/n remembered some moments when she had already seen him, as he was looking to get married this season. As she approached her, with a confident air, Y/n lowered her head to compliment him, "Good afternoon, Earl Cavendish."
"Lady Bridgerton, a pleasure to meet you. I must say, you look flawless. Would you give me the pleasure of dancing with me?" he extended his hand.
Y/n's eyes widened, not knowing what to do. People had already started looking at them, whispering among themselves. However, she didn't have to respond to the invitation as she felt an arm wrap around her waist and bring her closer to him.
"Excuse me, Earl Cavendish, but I want to have the pleasure of dancing with my beautiful wife first." Anthony said with his jaw clenched, looking him up and down menacingly. "I'm sure you will be able to find other ladies to dance with tonight. Just not my wife."
The two men looked at each other for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to back down. Anthony grew more and more furious, her wrists clenching and bringing Y/n even closer to him, but careful not to hurt her.
"Very well. I shall leave. I hope to see you again someday, Lady Bridgerton."
"I will —" Anthony began by exclaiming in anger as the Earl walked towards another woman, not having liked the way he looked at what was his.
"You will do nothing." the Viscountess snapped coldly. "I can't understand you, you ignore me, you treat me badly, and then you act protective when another man shows interest in me? I never said anything about you having lovers, even though I didn't like that in our marriage."
"What? I've never disrespected our marriage like that, Y/n. In the past I've done a lot of things, but since we got married the only woman I'll look at and touch is you. I don't want anyone else."
"You have a funny way of showing it." she laughed sarcastically, feeling increasingly emotional. "I have to go get some air. You should go check on Francesca again."
Feeling the cold night air, Y/n's heart began to calm down. It was so difficult having to deal with Anthony's changes of attitude, she couldn't understand him. She just wanted to be loved, and since that wasn't possible, she preferred that they stay as far away from each other as possible since being friends didn't seem to be an option either.
"I'm sorry." the voice she had come to know so well whispered behind her. Y/n refused to turn around, leaning against the balcony and taking deep breaths to control her emotions. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I know that marrying me shouldn't have been your choice either, but I was scared. I was scared to have a wife, because that meant I had another person in my life that I could lose ."
She finally had the courage to turn around and look into Anthony's brown eyes. They held back tears and showed the sadness, regret and anger that Anthony felt.
"I'm so angry with myself for the way I treated you. You deserve so much better than this. And I'm sorry I couldn't give you that. The cruel words I said to you but didn't mean. I was scared to let you in. in my heart, so I tried to push you away. Believe that all I want is to have you in my arms. To love you. To start a family with you. Please, I promise I will do better. And every day I will try to reward you for what you do.
"Lord Bridgerton—"
"Please, call me Anthony. It pains me when you call me like that. Reminds me that I was… Am so close to losing the best thing of my life. I will kneel before you and beg for forgiveness if that's what you want." he murmured with a hand over his heart, beginning to kneel on the ground without hesitation.
"There is no need for that… Anthony." she enjoyed seeing the relief and happiness that spread across his face upon hearing his first name. "I just don't understand why you didn't love me? And now you want to try to make our marriage work?"
"That's the thing, I have always loved you. I love you. My whole body, my heart, feels love for you. That has never changed." he revealed desperately. "I was a coward and didn't know how to deal with my feelings. Because they are so strong that my heart feels like it's going to come out of my chest. Please, give me another chance."
"Hmm, I don't now." The look of disappointment was so marked on Anthony's face, almost looking like he was ready to burst into tears, that Y/n stopped his suffering and showed him an amused smile, making him understand that she was joking. "I think I want you to suffer a little more to get my forgiveness."
"I will do anything for you, Y/n. Ask me the world and I will give it to you."
"Such a romantic now, aren't you?" she whispered, admiring his features.
She didn't realize their faces were so close until she felt his nose trace the delicate skin of her cheek. A gasp escaped her mouth, and Anthony took the opportunity to connect their lips in an unforgettable kiss.
Anthony pulled away quicker than he wanted, but he needed to make sure this was really what his wife wanted. "I love you."
"Kiss me again, and maybe I will also tell you that."
And what his wife wanted, he did. The two remained on the balcony, enjoying the comfort the other gave them. They still had a long way to go, but they knew that from that moment on, their lives would change drastically for the better. They had each other.
4K notes · View notes
liloinkoink · 4 months ago
Text
one thing i think people get wrong about Martyn in the life series is he really isn’t loyal
like yeah, we all know him as the Hand, following the Red King as far as their shared grave, but that is… truly the outlier and not the norm with him
i mean, let’s take a brief look at other seasons. i can’t speak to Secret Life, as it came out when i was incredibly busy and i haven’t yet had time to watch it, but what about the others?
he won Limited Life because he’s a chronic traitor! he betrayed Scott, his ally for the whole season, so that he could win, and said he’d been planning it / wanting to do it the whole session. spent a whole season protecting and helping Scott, and laughed in his face to betray as soon as he saw a shot to do so
Double Life was a whole mess of Martyn and weird loyalties. just one example: he spent all of the first session hanging out with Pearl in favor of even looking for either of their soulmates, with no regard for how he’d been putting his soulmate in danger. when their soulmates dumped them due to being ignored all session and stormed off, he dumped Pearl just because. one session in and he’s betrayed both his soulmate and his day one alliance!
Last Life he teamed with the Southlanders and then made the Shadow Alliance in secret, so he was on two teams and never truly committed to either. he tried to kill Grian basically immediately when he got boogeyman, for example, and in the final fight he tried to lure Ren to himself by offering to team and then tried to blow Ren up
of course, i’m simplifying and ignoring a lot. he doesn’t earn the loyal reputation for nothing. he does a lot of things to help his teammates, like giving a life to Ren in Last Life, trying all season to win Cleo over for all of Double Life, or working to protect Scott for all of Limited Life. it’s not like Martyn doesn’t play the part of a loyal friend well, but, well.
the thing about Martyn is that he’s selfish. he’s basically always going to prioritize his own survival over anything else. he’s never going to roll over and die, especially not for another person. he’s good at looking loyal, because having allies will help you survive, and he knows making outright enemies is a bad idea. he knows he can’t make it obvious he’s a traitor, because then he’ll certainly be killed. but, when it comes down to the wire, he will generally bail at the last minute to save his own skin rather than protecting the people around him. when his loyalty is tested, nine times out of ten, he will not only fail, but do so completely without remorse
it doesnt take a lot to become Martyn’s ally, and once you’ve got a foot in the door, he will take his allegiances seriously (at least, to a point). but it takes effort to really earn Martyn’s trust. and, even when it looks like you have, there’s no guarantee he won’t yank the rug out from under you if he decides having you alive is more detrimental to his survival than seeing you dead
and yes, you can especially see all of this in Third Life. Martyn was absolutely not instantly ride or die for Ren—for a lot of the earlier episodes, he won’t say he’s on Ren’s team or that he lives at Ren’s base, and often tells other players he’s simply Ren’s employee rather than teammate and that he’s wandering or homeless. he trusts Ren so little due to Ren’s inability to keep a secret or stand up for himself that even Ren acknowledges in the third session that Martyn is probably going to leave him and find someone else. Martyn’s loyalty had to be earned, and it very nearly wasn’t. if Ren had taken a session more to grow a spine, Martyn probably would have left
but Ren became an ally that Martyn could rely on, who could stand up for himself and keep secrets. it became more beneficial to Martyn’s survival to have Ren around, so he stayed with Ren for the rest of the season, and committed hard to their kingdom. Ren earns Martyn’s trust by becoming a more dependable ally, and because of that, Ren earns Martyn’s loyalty…. probably
(half related, bc i want it in the post and i don’t know where to put it: after the execution, two sessions after Ren officially earns Martyn’s loyalty, Ren admits to being genuinely convinced Martyn was going to take him out of the series as soon as Ren gave him the chance!)
because yes, even here, even after Ren earns his trust and Ren trusts Martyn to execute him and they become King and Hand, Martyn was okay with killing Ren to save himself. Martyn has said he was going to betray Ren in the final session of Third Life. his entire plan was that when he and Ren hit the final 5, he was going to kill Ren. end Red Winter, usher in Red Spring. even the most loyal version of Martyn was a traitor!
now, you can decide for yourself if you believe he could have actually gone through with this—he and Ren were 6th and 7th out of the game, after all. maybe he wouldn’t have been able to steel himself. maybe his loyalty would have, for once, been too strong to kill Ren.
but it’s very possible that even the most loyal version of Martyn—the version of Martyn who has created this “loyal” image of Martyn in fanon—was only loyal because he died too soon to show his true colors
2K notes · View notes
anxiousnerdwritings · 11 months ago
Note
Can I request something spicy for YanBatman with his Ex-WifeReader? 🫨
TW: Semi-NSFW, implied breeding kink, mention/implied cockwarming
Tumblr media
(I sincerely hope you like it! It feels like forever since I’ve written something like this, let alone something spicy.)
Entrapment
A talk. That’s all this meeting was suppose to be. Just a simple and civil discussion about the upcoming court proceedings regarding the divorce and what would be happening afterwards regarding your relationship with the family (especially Damian), nothing more. So, how did it end up like this? How could it have possibly strayed so far off track?
~~~~
You weren’t too surprised when you got a call from Bruce. He often went between nonstop blowing up your phone to not reaching out to you for days at a time, you were getting more and more used to it by now. You of course didn’t answer it, your lawyer had advised you not to after your telling them of how Bruce was throughout your entire relationship with him. His tendencies and the way he behaved when it came to you. Your lawyer wasn’t exactly completely believing of it, and that was pretty understandable given some of the things you had divulged to them (if you hadn’t lived and dealt with it yourself you would have had a hard time believing it too) but they decided it was better to be safe than sorry and advised you to not interact with Bruce outside of them. And so you hadn’t and you didn’t plan to either. That was until you listened to the voicemail that he had left behind.
He had an offer. He wanted to meet in person and discuss this whole situation, one on one. He wanted to come to an equal agreement outside of having to go to court. And as much as you hated it it sounded like it might be the better option. There was no pretending that this divorce would go in your favor, there were just too many things going against you. Bruce had the money, he had the means to get the best damn lawyer in Gotham and fight this to the very end. Not to mention that this divorce would be very public in general given just who it involved. And he could very easily get the media on his side, tarnishing your image as a whole. Not that you cared too much for that, you had planned to leave Gotham behind anyway after the divorce was final but the thing that got you the most was the rest of the family.
You adored Alfred. Not only was he simply one hell of a butler but he had been so good to you throughout your marriage to Bruce. Even though you two hadn’t been married that long, Alfred was still very much a support to you and what you went through. He didn’t completely agree with what Bruce did or how he went about things, you were your own person and he tried to remind Bruce of that on many occasions, but there was only so much he could do. And it wasn’t just Alfred you cared about, you also loved all of Bruce’s kids. Once you married Bruce they didn’t just become your family, they were your babies too. And you still wanted to have them in your life and you knew Bruce would hold them over your head no matter which way this divorce went.
Sure, the rest of the family had been involved to some extent with what Bruce was doing in your relationship, especially when it came to keeping you isolated and cooped up in the manor. But as far as you saw it that was all due to Bruce’s influence, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually believe that they would willingly go along with it of their own accord. Or that they even gave Bruce ideas to begin with to keep you by his side and with them as a result. You just couldn’t possibly think of them like that, you just couldn’t. So, it of course scared you at the thought of being completely cut off from the people you had opened your heart to. You still wanted to be there for them, still be a part of their life but just at a safe arm’s length away instead of how it was before.
The more you thought about it, mulling it over and over again in your head, this offer was sounding like the more beneficial thing to do. You did still have love for Bruce of course, you just didn’t want to be in that kind of situation again and you knew the only way to prevent that and keep yourself safe was to step away from him and any form of romantic relationship with him.
~~~~
The day was finally here for the two of you to meet and you couldn’t help the anxiety that washed over you. You never truly knew what Bruce would do, what he was really thinking in the moment. He was unpredictable like that. He could come off oh so charming and inviting, it was scary how easy he could lure you into his trap. And you knew better than anyone what it was like to be caught in that snare. That was what your whole marriage had been with him after all, just one big entrapment.
Even when you were briefly on the phone with him to set up this meeting you couldn’t contain the tremor of nerves you had just hearing his voice again. You really did miss it, you missed him. But this needed to be done. For the both of you. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.
Seeing him face to face again was something else. He looked good, he looked like he was taking care of himself again. That was a far cry from how he was the first few months after you left. He was a mess and it showed. That alone almost had you going back to him just so he’d be alright but you knew what came with him being back to himself and you couldn’t put yourself in that position again. You just had to remind yourself that this was it and it would soon be over for good.
Bruce greets you with open arms, you’re not quick enough to back out of his reach before he’s already enveloped you in his hold. He’s warm, he’s always been so warm. And his hold is tight, longing but not as suffocating as it used to be. And just as you’re beginning to feel yourself unconsciously fall into his warmth just like you used to so many times before, welcoming his touch again, he pulls away. For a split second you want to reach out to him and feel his touch all over again but you remind yourself that this isn’t what this is anymore. It can’t be.
Once the two of you are settled you start off talking small talk and everything seems good, everything seems okay. Bruce asks how you’ve been, if you’re doing alright with everything that’s been going on. He seems caring. He seems like he genuinely wants to know how this has affected you but you remind yourself yet again that this isn’t what you think it is. He then moves on to talking about the family and how they have been holding up through out this process, everyone’s taking it hard. Dealing with it in their own way but it seems Damian is the one who is taking it the hardest. That’s what you had feared. You worried about how Damian was taking all of this, how he was being effected by it. He was such a guarded kid, so closed off. You felt terrible having to put him through this, as well as the others but it’s what needed to be done. Right?
It isn’t until you try to bring up the original topic of discussion, the entire reason for this meeting in the first place, that you see how this wasn’t remotely the meaning of this meeting. You barely caught sight of Bruce’s jaw clenching when the words left your mouth, that was enough insight for you to know that this wasn’t at all what it was meant to be.
It’s obvious that it’s the last thing he wants to do, you can tell. He’d rather talk about anything else other than that. It’s one thing to ask how you’ve been regarding it or talking about how the rest of the family’s been taking it in but he doesn’t want to actually get into it. He’s avoiding it, of course he is. You can’t blame him but this needs to be over with.
“Bruce.” He tenses. It feels like it’s been forever since you said his name, he’s missed hearing it from you. He wants to hear it over and over again, like a mantra. God, the way it hit him when that’s all you could say as he thrusted so deep into you, just his name rolling off your tongue repeatedly. Fuck he missed it. He missed you.
“Remember, we’re meeting here for a reason. I don’t want to take up much more time than we need to. So, could we get to it?” Business. That’s all this was. Bruce hated it. Of all things, this is what brought you out of hiding? This is what opened you up to seeing him once more?
No.
He wouldn’t take that as an excuse.
He just wouldn’t.
“You’re right, (Name). Let’s get to business.”
~~~~
Without a doubt in your mind this was his intention all along. Of course it was. How could you see it any other way?
Bruce was calculating. He proved that more than once since you have known him.
It showed I n how he talked, the words he said dripping off his lips one after another, the sweet nothings he filled your head with.
In how he touched you; the placement of his hands, the way his fingers brushed you, the methodic way they curled deep inside your warmth.
But more importantly he was the most calculated when it came to fucking you. He knew you better than yourself, he spent your whole entire relationship learning and memorizing your body. What you wanted, what you needed. What exactly drove you to the deepest depths of pleasure. He knew it all. And he certainly knew how to use it to his advantage.
Each thrust, deeper than the last, was all so cunningly planned out. The way he grounded his hips into yours, the way he clutched you so close, melding himself into you, opening you up even more to take him completely. Every single move was so irrevocably mapped out.
~~~~
Your warmth. Oh, how much he’s missed it. How much he’s fucking craved feeling it wrapped around, enveloping him whole again, only for him to feel. You have no idea how many times he’s touched his throbbing cock to the thought of it, to the thought of having you sprawled out under him again. You have no fucking idea.
Once he has you right where he wants you, completely lost in the ecstasy of it all, he allows himself to finally give in to his own blinding pleasure.
No more calculating.
No more cunning.
No more being methodic.
No more.
Now it was all solely his mindless self indulgence. His once slow, deep thrusts turned into rapid, savage pounding. His kisses were more aggressive, sloppy. His touch was burning hotter than ever as he gripped and grabbed every piece of you he could.
At this point, Bruce let himself get lost in it. He let himself fall into the deepest, darkest pits of his desires. All he wanted now was to chase that feeling he’s been left without for so long, over and over again.
One after another, he released everything he had deep inside you. Again, and again, and again. All of this; all of his pent up anger, hurt, passion, everything he had bottled up inside throughout this whole shitshow of a situation, he was free to let it all go.
After the haze finally let up, Bruce was left basking in the aftermath. He couldn’t have felt better than ever before. He had you again, he had you here in his arms and it wasn’t a dream this time. You were the real deal and he couldn’t have been happier.
He couldn’t help but look at you,, watching you, taking all of you in again just like the many times he used to before. You were a fucking mess after everything and he absolutely loved it. He did that to you, he made you that way. And he took great pride and pleasure in it. He left you so full, both with himself still inside you (he just couldn’t bring himself to part with your warmth again) and all his cum. This was how he wanted to stay. This was how he wanted to be.
Placing his large hand on your stomach, he caressed it tenderly. There was no way you wouldn’t fall pregnant after this, he had made sure of it with all the times he filled you with his seed. He wanted you pregnant, he wanted you filled to the brim with his baby. He needed to have you tied for life and what better way to ensure that than by bringing a new life into the world together.
You wouldn’t be able to get away from him now. This had been yet another way to entrap you, to keep you in his grasp and Bruce wasn’t going to leave any room for you to wriggle out of his reach again.
“Let’s start anew, (Name). After all, we’re going to have even more of a reason to work things out now.”
4K notes · View notes
shikiii-skadi · 4 months ago
Text
How the Twisted Wonderland characters look at you:
INCLUDES: riddle rosehearts, deuce spade, azul ashengrotto, floyd leech, kalim al asim, jamil viper, rook hunt, epel felmier, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia, silver, sebek zigvolt
WARNINGS: reader is described as shorter than floyd, reader wears mascara in rooks part
NAVIGATION: Twisted Wonderland Masterlist
❤️Riddle Rosehearts❤️
Like you are the most beautiful rose in the garden - According to the rules, each rose at the unbirthday party had to be perfect. But even your imperfect sides made you beautiful. But that had to be against the rules, right?
❤️Deuce Spade❤️
Like he wants to make you proud of him - Deuce had made many mistakes during his delinquent days but he is more than determined to change and become an honor student. Every time you support him or help him archive his goal, he feels the overwhelming urge to make you proud of him. Which is why he puts even more effort into everything (which may or may not end badly).
💙Azul Ashengrotto💙
Like you are an easy target for his schemes - You were just a helpless and magicless human from another world. Who would have been better to manipulate in a contract, that was clearly more beneficial to the contractor than the client, than someone like you? But you weren't as naive as Azul thought you are and were able to somehow wiggle yourself out of every attempt of his to either make you sign a contract with him or be otherwise in debt to him. Seems like you are quite intelligent. He should definitely keep an eye on you. Of course, this has nothing to do with personal reasons.
💙Floyd Leech💙
Like you are a squeezable little shrimp - You were just so defenseless and small compared to Floyd, that he couldn't help but squeeze you incredibly tight every time he saw you. I mean, he has that urge with everyone he sees, but with you, it was extra strong. And you could do nothing but accept it if you didn't want to risk becoming the cause of one of his scary mood swings.
🧡Kalim Al-Asim🧡
Like you are a ray of sunshine - Whenever Kalim saw you, he was beaming with joy. You were just so much fun to be around. His everlasting cheerfulness was through the roof when you were around. Kalim has definitely impulsively purchased things for your entertainment, like a jet ski, so he can witness your laughs and smiles more often. (Jamil is crying in a corner)
🧡Jamil Viper🧡
Like he has his only rest when you are near - As vice houswarden of Scarabia and Kalim's attendant, Jamil rarely has even five minutes to relax. No, scratch that, he never actually had time off. But when you are there, he can finally get a well-deserved break. Scarabia could be on fire or Kalim could fall off his flying carpet in those few minutes with you, Jamil doesn't care. He will deal with it afterward.
💜Vil Schoenheit💜
Like he is the only one, who can make you reach your full potential - Vil could clearly see the beauty you possessed, even if it was diminished by your miserable living conditions and the little money Crowley gave you for clothes and beauty products. But fear not, that is where Vil steps in. He was sure that he was the only one capable of leading you to your utmost beauty.
💜Epel Felmier💜
Like you are his damsel in distress - I mean, yeah, sure realistically Epel knows that you don't need him to save you and that you aren't really a helpless damsel, but it makes him feel manly when you ask him to open a jar for you or get something from a higher shelf.
💜Rook Hunt💜
Like you are the embodiment of beauty - Rook enjoys to watch you in every situation of your life. You just come home having to run the entire way from the school building to Ramshackle Dorm with Grim in tow through the pouring rain, your clothes are completely soaked, your hair looks like a wet dog, and your mascara is running down your cheeks. Rook has never seen anything more beautiful.
💙Idia Shroud💙
Like you are a cute kitty - Idia is a cat lover. And he can't help thinking that you're just as cute as the fluffy feline creatures he loves so much. Not that he would ever say that out loud. The thought alone was enough to make his hair turn red. And a plus is that you don't run away when he approaches you.
💚Malleus Draconia💚
Like you are his only friend - Malleus was very lonely all his life until you ended up in Twisted Wonderland and made his favorite ruin your home. You were the only person who ever thought of inviting him, who didn't run away in fear or put him on a pedestal. Instead, you just treated him like a friend. And Malleus was sure to treasure that for all eternity.
💚Silver💚
Like you are his fairytale princess/prince - Among all the eccentric characters at Night Raven College, Silver was almost unnoticeable. Not that he was particularly bothered by that. But you always managed to make him feel special, even if he was just a mere knight (that's what Silver says at least). And when you jokingly tell him that he was like your knight in shining armor, that must mean that you are his princess/prince then, right?
💚Sebek Zigvolt💚
Like you aren't that bad for a human - Sebek wanted nothing to do with you. You weren't worth his attention because you were just a mere human. In addition, you have greatly upset him by having the audacity to call his great liege by a silly little nickname. Imagine how irritated Sebek is when he realizes that he thinks your company is actually quite nice. Maybe you're not that bad for a human. Not that he actually likes you, of course! No, he is definitely not blushing!
1K notes · View notes
felinecyan · 5 months ago
Text
Reality of Realizations
Tumblr media
[Shoto Todoroki x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: After the Sports Festival, Shoto comes to realize just how awful his behavior was, and he’s determined to make things right.
WC: 3559
Category: Mega Fluff, Awkward!Shoto
This idea smacked me to my keyboard at 3 am and took me hostage until I finished it… I hope you enjoy it!! ☺️🫶
『••✎••』
In the beginning, Shoto didn’t feel guilty. He felt indifference. To him, U.A. was about succeeding his father without his father’s side of his bloodline, the fire part of his quirk. Everything was about becoming a hero that wasn't like Endeavor. Everything was about getting stronger without using fire.
Friendships weren’t his concern. In fact, he didn't give them much thought at all. He didn’t feel like they would be beneficial to his cause.
For some reason, though, you wanted to be around him. Maybe it was because you saw something in him, some type of potential that even he didn’t recognize. Or maybe you just had a lot of energy that needed to be spent, and being around him was your only means of releasing it. Either way, you never left him alone. You followed him, sat next to him in class, and asked him about his quirk.
And with his current mindset, he was rather annoyed with your persistence. He knew he could handle it himself. He could do well in school and become a great hero without any help. You were a distraction to his goal, and he was not having it.
When you first tried to start a conversation, Shoto looked straight ahead. His gaze remained fixed on the whiteboard. If you continued to be persistent, he would snap at you. It was a guarantee.
As much as he wouldn’t like to admit, sometimes the father-son resemblance would shine through.
You tried again, asking him what his favorite food was. When he didn’t answer, you shrugged and turned your head toward the window—another failed attempt.
Your attempts only increasingly became more annoying as time went on. The same questions, the same responses, and the same outcome:
An angry Todoroki who just wanted to be left alone.
But it wasn't until the Sports Festival that things changed for him. Midoriya helped him realize that his father wouldn’t define him, but his own choices would. It was enlightening, and after their fight, he felt a strong sense of respect for the green-haired boy.
And due to that awakening, he realized just how absolutely rude he had been toward you.
You were one of his classmates, a person who was in the same school as him, training to be a hero just like him. You were someone who deserved respect, and he didn’t treat you the way you should have been.
That guilt settled in.
He was a horrible person.
He had to make up for it.
And, no, a simple apology would not be enough. He needed to go the extra mile and show you that he meant what he said and that he was truly sorry.
The question was, how?
He knew little about you. He never spoke to you, not in the way you had tried speaking to him, so how would he know your favorite food, your favorite color, your favorite animal? How would he know what kind of flowers or sweets you liked?
How could he make you happy when he was the one who hurt you in the first place?
He thought long and hard. He pondered and pondered, trying to think of what you could possibly enjoy, but his mind would draw a blank.
So, he did the only thing he could think of: he asked Midoriya for help. The green-haired boy had that entire notebook dedicated to all the quirks every classmate had, so surely it could give him some insight into how to approach you.
Surely, it would help.
After class, Todoroki went over to Midoriya. He kept his hands in his pockets, and he looked the other way, not quite wanting to see Midoriya's expression.
Needless to say, he was absolutely surprised when Todoroki asked him for help. Surprised and absolutely delighted. The way he started bouncing in his seat with the biggest smile on his face made Todoroki want to reconsider the offer. But before he could retract, Midoriya already had his notebook out.
He flipped through a few pages, his finger stopping when he found your name. Honestly, it was unnerving just how many notes were dedicated to each individual.
Midoriya read your likes and dislikes; apparently, they were all through observation and not from you telling him. Maybe if Todoroki wasn’t so mean to you, then he would‘ve known what you liked, too.
He figured you had to make it obvious for Midoriya to write it down, right? There’s no way Midoriya would be able to figure out that information from just watching.
Then again, his analysis was pretty spot on. He knew what your personality was; he dealt with it firsthand. Of course, at the time, he didn't think too much about it. All he thought was how much he wanted you to leave him alone. Now, however, he wanted you to ask him those questions.
He wanted to be your friend.
He learned that you loved reading books. Not only that, but you loved flowers. Not the typical roses or sunflowers, but the less popular flowers. The type of flower that not a lot of people would think of when thinking about the beauty of a flower.
You also loved sweets, mostly anything with the word "chocolate" in the name. You had a sweet tooth, and it was very apparent.
Todoroki didn’t know why, but he found himself smiling. Finding out your likes and dislikes and learning about your personality was interesting. He wished he hadn’t been so blind before. Maybe then, he could've been friends with you earlier.
But it was okay. He could still become your friend. He could still fix things.
Midoriya had written down a list of things that you would appreciate the most, and then it was on the planning portion.
Gift-giving was still a relatively new concept for Shoto. He never had any real reason to give someone a gift before, and when he did give gifts, it was mostly for his siblings on special occasions.
He never really had the opportunity to buy a gift for a friend.
Midoriya told him that the best gifts were meaningful and came from the heart.
"Think of a memory you have with them. Think of something that they would really enjoy."
But the issue was, he had no memories with you. No good ones, anyhow. They were all trash because he never gave you the chance to have a good memory with him.
"Hey, Todoroki, if you were—"
You always sounded so genuine when asking him those foolish questions, but the moment he turned his head, his glare could have killed you.
"Do you always have to bother me? Doesn’t it get tiring asking the same things, day in and day out?" His tone was harsh, and he didn't mean for it to sound that way, but it was the only tone he ever used on you.
"No wonder your parents sent you to boarding school in America before applying here. I wouldn’t be able to deal with you either."
Yeah, those were his words. Those were his exact words. Not the nicest, were they?
The sentence was completely laced with poison, and even Shoto knew it then. He truly didn’t mean to bring that up; it was a low blow, but the damage was done, and the second it was said, your expression fell.
Shame, really. You were only trying to be nice. You didn’t deserve his spiteful attitude. You were kind and thoughtful, and you were a very good person, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept your kindness.
So, how the hell was he going to be able to apologize to you? How was he going to give you a present that meant something when all his memories of you were filled with his hate?
He sat on his bed, his legs crossed as he held his head. He needed an idea, but his mind drew a blank. What the hell was he supposed to do?
Midoriya told him that a homemade gift was probably the best among a couple of special items. If he made something himself, he could show how much effort he put into it. He could make something meaningful and show just how sorry he was.
But... he wasn't the most creative person. In fact, his creativity was nonexistent. He didn’t know the first thing about making something from scratch.
He knew how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a tasty soba, but other than that, he was lost.
And it wasn't like he could ask for his siblings' help. He took that as a sign of not owning up to his mistakes. If he couldn’t figure this out, then he didn't deserve your friendship.
His eyes were fixated on his desk. His textbooks were sprawled out, and a couple of papers were scattered across the table. He was currently studying for the next exam, and his phone was off to the side, plugged into the wall to charge.
His mind should’ve been on schoolwork, but the only thing he could think of was you. He needed an idea, and soon, because if he didn't do anything, his guilt would eat him alive.
His mind continued to wander.
Flowers, chocolate, a book, a teddy bear.
None of these would be enough. None of these were personal; none of these would mean something.
His eyes wandered from his desk to the window. The sky was orange, a beautiful sunset. He watched as the clouds passed and the birds flew by.
Birds.
Why does that remind him of something?
What do birds have to do with a gift?
He closed his eyes, trying to remember a moment. Any moment, whether good or bad, anything that could help him get a hint as to what to do.
And then, a memory flashed.
It was a rainy day, and you were late.
You were walking and running, but the rain was coming down pretty hard. You weren’t an idiot, so you weren't wearing the U.A. uniform. Instead, you wore a jacket. But even then, you were still soaked.
You didn’t have an umbrella, a raincoat, or any protective gear. You were running through the rain, trying to get to the school before the bell rang.
Luckily, it wasn't too far away.
Shoto remembered seeing you run, and for a brief second, he thought you were an idiot. He wondered why you didn't just take the bus or the train. If you lived near the school, you would've had plenty of time.
And still, even being as late as you were, you were still determined to have your daily conversations with Shoto.
You were definitely an odd ball, but in that moment, a certain memory came to mind.
When you finally made it to class, you were absolutely soaked. Your hair was sticking to your face, and your shoes were squishing with every step you took.
You sat down, understandably grumpy, but you weren’t upset that you were late, wet, or even sick the next day. No, what was upsetting you was the fact that you had lost something.
A hairclip, to be specific.
You lost a hairclip.
It was a clip that had a hummingbird attached to it. The clip itself was silver, but the hummingbird was painted green. He knows this because you wouldn’t stop talking about it.
He remembered you saying that it was a gift from a family member. He didn’t know who, nor did he care at the time, but you cared.
You really cared.
You spent the majority of the day searching for the hairclip. You searched the hallways, the bathroom, the cafeteria, everywhere you could think of, but it wasn’t there. It was nowhere to be found.
And for a week, you wore your hair down, which was the complete opposite of what you normally did.
If only Shoto realized this at the time, then he would've helped you look for it. He was good at finding things, ironically, but the thought didn’t cross his mind, and neither did the memory.
Until now.
In a split second, he bolted up. He rushed downstairs, not caring if he was loud. He didn’t care if his family could hear him; he didn’t care if he was disturbing their peace.
He had an idea, a good one, and it was perfect.
It was the most personal gift he could think of. Throw in a couple of your favorites, and it would be perfect.
He would make you a gift basket, but he would add his own touch to it. Again, he wasn’t that creative, but he had a basic idea. You’d like ribbons, right? Why not a nice bow?
Unfortunately, your specific hummingbird hair clip was long gone, but the internet seemed to have everything. He searched for hours, ignoring his study guide for the upcoming exam, and finally, after what seemed like forever, he found a silver hummingbird. It wasn’t painted green, but it was the same model as your old one.
It was the best he could do. And fortunately, due to the one-day shipping, he would have it by the time Monday rolled around.
He ordered it, and when it came in, he put the basket together. He bought you a book based on your favorite genre, some chocolate, a bouquet of some of your favorite flowers, and then, he added the ribbon.
The clip he put in a special case, away from the basket. He would be giving this separately because it would mean more, and he felt like this was something that shouldn’t be touched by anything else.
And, well, he wanted to see your reaction to his apology. It would be easier to read your expression if he didn't give you both the gift at the same time.
Oh, right, the apology.
He didn’t really think about that, and honestly, he didn’t know how to start.
But the best way to do anything is with practice, right?
Screw that upcoming test. He had something much more important to deal with, and knowing him, he’d probably still ace the test anyway.
He cleared his throat, standing in the middle of his room.
Okay, how would he start?
Hi? No, that was too casual.
Hello? No, it's not formal enough.
Greetings?
No, no, he shouldn’t sound like a robot.
He needed something more genuine, more real.
Maybe... maybe he should start by telling you how sorry he was. Yeah, that would be the best.
He cleared his throat again.
"Hey," his voice cracked, and his eyes widened. He sounded so awkward. That was so not smooth.
He started over.
"I know we haven't spoken in a while," he started. "I'm... I'm sorry for everything I've done. For everything I've said. You didn't deserve any of that."
This felt like a speech. Maybe he should tone it down.
"I… I was a horrible person, and I wish I could take back all the things I said, but I can't, and I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. And I know a simple sorry won't fix everything, so..."
He went over to the desk and picked up the box with the silver hummingbird inside.
"I want to give you this. I hope you like it."
Okay, practice over. He’s better off winging it. He truly regretted how he acted, so regardless of how the apology goes, hopefully, you can see that he's being genuine.
He sighed.
Hopefully.
The next day came quicker than expected. He spent the entire night preparing, and by the time the morning came, he was exhausted.
But it was okay because soon, he'd be able to see you and, hopefully, make amends.
Panic didn’t set in until he caught sight of you at your locker, picking out your books.
The moment his eyes landed on you, his heart started to race. His throat went dry, and his hands got clammy.
This is it, he thought—all or nothing.
He took a deep breath.
Here goes.
"Excuse me," he started. His voice sounded shaky, but he ignored it. He had to stay confident and pretend he wasn’t nervous.
You turned to him, and the moment your eyes met his, he swore he could feel his heart stop.
Those eyes… full of utter shock and surprise. You were really caught off guard. And he was, too, because not a single word was uttered from his lips.
"Um," you cleared your throat. "Hey, Todoroki," you smiled at him. You seemed hesitant, and honestly, who could blame you? He had never really been nice to you.
"I was just heading to class, but uh," you rubbed the back of your neck. "Did you… did you need something?"
The question made him snap back into reality.
He was still speechless, so to fix the awkward atmosphere, he decided just to hand you the basket.
You were obviously confused. Your brows were furrowed, and you stared at the present like it was some foreign object.
"What's this?"
"It's a gift."
Your confusion didn't fade. In fact, it was almost replaced with concern.
"For... me?"
Oh, for the love of…, snap out of it, Shoto!
He shook his head.
"Yes, for you," he handed you the gift, and when you held it, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat. "I…"
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Look, I'm... I'm sorry. For everything."
You just stared at him blankly, and for a moment, Shoto felt the panic rise. What if you didn’t forgive him?
You were quiet for a while, and his nervousness only grew. He decided to try again.
"You were just trying to be friends, and all I did was push you away. I was so… rude and cold, and you didn’t deserve any of that. You were just trying to be kind. So, I wanted to make it up to you. I wanted to do something nice and show you how deeply apologetic I am."
Silence.
He didn't know what to say anymore, so he continued, hoping he wasn't making a bigger mess than what it was.
"I also, uh, got you this," he pulled out the case from inside his uniform. With the way you were silent the entire time, he was starting to think you wouldn’t accept the gift.
So, the moment your hand reached out to grab the box, he was relieved to know you were willing to listen.
"I know it’s not your original, but it's the closest I could find. And, well, it's the least I could do, considering how I acted."
When you opened the box, he could see the way your eyes lit up. He was so nervous about this, so scared that you wouldn’t like it, but the way you smiled proved him wrong.
And that smile. Oh, that smile.
He caused that smile. Instead of stealing it away or making it go away, he made it appear.
"Todoroki, I," you were speechless. Utterly speechless, he could tell by the way you looked up at him.
You were trying to find the right words, and honestly, he didn’t blame you. He was in a similar situation.
"You didn’t have to get me this," you said, a bright smile on your face. You were holding the hummingbird gently like it was a precious object. "I probably would've forgiven you even if you didn’t get me anything."
Wait, was that a yes?
Was that a yes?!
Shoto could feel the corners of his lips twitch. He felt himself smiling.
"Thank you," you continued, still holding the hummingbird carefully. "It means a lot to me. I appreciate the effort you put into this. And, um, thank you for the apology. I really needed to hear it. Honestly, I thought I did something wrong, so I'm glad that wasn’t the case."
You laughed a bit, and even if he was confused about why you were laughing at all, he was relieved that you were accepting his apology.
"You did nothing wrong," he told you. "I was the one who messed up. I have issues, but that's not an excuse to be a jerk."
You smiled again, and he noticed the way you fiddled with the box. It was clear you wanted to attach the hairclip.
"I can… um, help you with that if you want."
The instant nod from you was enough for him to grab it delicately from the box, and when he did, you turned around.
It was a really pretty clip, and it suited you. Whoever originally gave it to you clearly had great taste.
It took a second, but he finally placed it into your hair. When you turned back around, he nodded in approval.
"You look nice," he told you.
"Thank you."
There was a pause.
"Um, did you, uh, want to sit together during lunch? I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but I thought I'd ask."
The amount of joy he suddenly felt was unexplainable. You were accepting him, and it was the most amazing thing he had ever experienced.
"Yeah, sure," he nodded. "That sounds nice."
Mission make up with you: success.
The guilt of everything still lingered, and he would have to apologize to everyone else as well, but that could be done later.
Right now, all that mattered was his new friend. A friend that should’ve been his a long time ago.
2K notes · View notes
star-anise · 5 months ago
Text
Currently getting my socks clean blown off by Rethinking Narcissism, by Dr. Craig Malkin. Which I found, in a roundabout way, from this video on Midsommar, grief, and narcissism.
Tonight I woke up from a nap and accidentally took my morning meds, so I'm going to be up for a few hours because of the meth. In place of sleep, I'll try to roughly sum up some basic ideas proposed by the research the book is based on:
That traits of "narcissism" like entitlement, grandiosity, and feeling special are not inherently toxic. There are times and places they are appropriate and beneficial. If you show up at a hospital with a gunshot wound to the chest, you should not sit and wait to be seen after people with earaches and coughs. (Actually, medical systems are designed to prioritize people with more urgent needs, and you qualify under that system. You are special and are deserving of different treatment than those others, which is why making your needs known, even insisting on it if you're not listened to appropriately the first time, is an extremely good idea. It keeps you from bleeding to death on the floor, and keeps the hospital from getting its pants sued off by your heirs.)
It is more useful to view "narcissism" not as an inherent immutable personality trait, but as a cluster of coping mechanisms. As previously stated, there are times they are exactly the right coping mechanism for the job. However, people we call "narcissists" tend to cling to these ones even when they become detrimental to themselves and others, often because they lack other ways of regulating their emotions and getting their needs met. And that is something they can change, if a person is willing to put in sincere and difficult work. It is not usually fast change; it's a matter of years, not weeks. But a skillbuilding approach turned Borderline Personality Disorder from an immutable curse to a fully treatable (though not quickly treatable) condition, and there's a lot of hope that it can do the same for Narcissistic Personality Disorder.
Meanwhile, there's an opposite end to the narcissism spectrum, and it is also pathological and destructive to hang out there all the time. It's an aversion, or even a resistance, to expecting yourself or other people to treat your own feelings, thoughts, ideas, needs, or preferences as important. For Greek mythology reasons, its proposed name is Echoism.
Unfortunately, because most of the damage echoism does is, by its very nature, localized to its sufferer and their own personal relationships, its downsides aren't often talked about. In fact, it's often seen as an ideal moral state, a kind of altruism or saintliness everyone should strive for. As a pathological coping mechanism a person is trapped in, though, it's often more a fear-based reflex than a conscious and deliberate attempt to achieve some real and specific good. It's not actually as beneficial as being able to recognize your needs, desires, positive aspects, and areas of competence or excellence, and bring them forward in your relationships with other people and yourself.
To me this has all been a cross between a gut-punch and a cool, sweet drink of water. There have been other ways to describe echoism over the years, but this feels like the most concise and useful one I've seen in ages.
It specifically puts its pin down in the middle of the moral debate a lot of people struggle with—"What right do I have to put myself forward? What hope do I have of being seen and accepted? Isn't it better not to burden anybody else?"—and says that the problem is not feeling in touch with either side of the equation, but specifically, the inability to move from one part of the spectrum to another when it's merited by circumstances.
When I was a child, I thought Echoism was the answer. It was my ideal. I thought it was what would get me the love and acceptance I wanted, and would keep me safe from the pain of rejection or not being understood. I had no idea it would actually, in fact, be the primary cause of alienation and loneliness for the rest of my life.
Now I'm so deeply thankful I couldn't fully achieve it, in practical terms. As hard as I tried to erase myself, there were always things I loved too much to suppress. I still found ways to express and discover myself in the books I read, the stories I wrote, the intellectual work of school and the experience of pursuing hobbies I loved, my ambitions to be helpful even when they demanded I stop being selfless, and the relationships where I felt safe enough to experience love and acceptance even if I didn't think I deserved them.
There's this question I found a while back that echoed in my bones: Who am I allowed to be around you? Because that's what I felt like, as a child. If I wanted to engage with other people and minimize my risk of harm, it was my job to bend into a pretzel and fit the shape they wanted. And thank god, thank god, thank god, I couldn't fully do it. Despite everything, there were parts of me too strong and bright to lop off completely to get my arms and legs inside the carriage. I was able to take care of myself and let them grow in secret until I found social places I could let them out again. Despite myself, I found ways to grow and thrive, well beyond the trauma that said I shouldn't have.
1K notes · View notes
xiatarot · 13 days ago
Text
pick a pile: your next relationship
< choose an image >
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
take what resonates, leave what doesn’t.
for entertainment purposes only.
I.
significant signs: big trees, snoopy, rabbits, spider webs, pictures of your grandparents, angel wings, 777, 8, 16, 1717.
zodiac signs: sagittarius, libra, virgo, cancer, aquarius, leo, gemini.
dear pile 1, it seems like the universe here has a different message for you but it's definitely one that you'll need to hear. your next relationship is essentially with yourself. spirit is urging you to look within, and find the love you seek in yourself. love and affection don't necessarily always have to come from a romantic partner; look around you and you'll find many different sources. you have a strong support system, wether in the 3D or spiritually, or both. there's a need for you to retreat and keep yourself in that hermit energy. there's some things you'll need to let go of in order to close a particularly difficult chapter of your life, and as the end of the year approaches, now it's the perfect time to let go of all those negative energies pulling you back from being who you dream of being, so that 2025 can feel like a fresh new beginning. some of you might struggle with addictions or, generically speaking, things that distract you on a daily basis and take you away from spending time doing other more fulfilling things that could benefit you long-term. now it's the time to reconsider your priorities and make amends with the past. what's behind you shouldn't keep you from moving forward. it would be beneficial to open up to one of multiple friends, don't be afraid to ask for help. to-do lists and physical self-care could also help a lot. remember that whatever you're going through it's temporary and it will pass. don't go back to unhealthy situations and toxic behaviors for temporary comfort, act out of love for your future self. take care.
find out more here: ♡ leave a tip: ♡
channeled song:
II.
significant signs: singing, white candles, rainstorms, black guitar picks, silver scissors, anxiety meds, journaling, 12, 444, 1010, 6,333.
zodiac signs: leo, aquarius, capricorn, gemini, libra, virgo, aries.
you will meet your next partner at work or this person will offer you a job opportunity. i'm seeing someone receiving bouquets of flowers at their office. this person could be very conventionally attractive, so much that you wouldn't believe they'd be into you, but they will. this will boost your confidence on the long run. you will meet this person at a time in your life where you feel lost or trapped in some kind of situation that might have to do with finances or unemployment. this person will take it in their interests to do the best they can to help you and take you out of your misery. i think they'll be very financially abundant. beware of jealousy that could arise around you, they could have many eyes on them, for some of you they could even be a public figure or someone that's just relatively known on social media. your person will spend a lot of time observing you and trying to read you from afar, they could've been hurt in the past so they'll take a slow and careful approach for fear that you might turn out to be another lesson for them. this relationship will force you to face insecurities and you might have a hard time in terms of self-esteem and confidence initially. communication and honesty are essential here, as lots of misunderstandments could arise out of it. they will definitely be the one to make the first move. this relationship will be filled with passion and could even lead to marriage if that's something you both want. finances won't be a problem for either of you. brace yourself cause it seems like your person is right around the corner! very happy for you :)
find out more here: ♡
leave a tip: ♡
channeled song:
III.
significant signs: the beatles, monkeys, palm trees, fur boots, cocktails, germany, hummingbirds, golden necklace, december, 1212, 222, 888, 555.
zodiac signs: leo, libra, cancer, sagittarius, capricorn, taurus.
your next relationship will be all about healing. whoever this person is, they will almost surprise you with how much love they'll hold for you. it's like finally feeling warmth after spending a whole life out in the cold. i'm seeing someone deeply stuck in their insecurities and self sabotaging tendencies, your mind might tell you you're not deserving of love and this person will take it as their mission to make you believe you are. it's a gentle and caring type of love, one that speaks through actions rather than words. this person will be your anchor and just overall someone you can count on at all times. they're very caring and sweet, they'll treat you as if you were glass. there'll be a lot of deep conversations and opening up to each other. this relationship will be based on trust. it could be someone you already know or already know of. you might have mutual friends and meet at a party or a special occasion that will require you to dress a bit fancier than usual. this person will immediately want to strike a conversation with you and they'll be endeared by your shyness and modesty. it's a relationship that will heal your relationship with yourself and help you see you're much more deserving and worthy than you were raised to believe. you'll definitely have a family together in the future :).
find out more here: ♡
leave a tip: ♡
channeled song:
818 notes · View notes
cakelitter · 2 months ago
Text
Intertwined
Leon x Fem! Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
warnings: mdni, oral (f recieve), p in v, dirty talking, established relationship, slight spanking, slight size kink
summary: playfighting!!!
words: 2.3k
a/n: Mostly intended for re4 Leon, but any Leon after that era works tbh. Downstairs neighbors probably hate the two of you LMAO. But yeah, hope you enjoy!!!!
Tumblr media
Play fighting is fun, especially when you have a boyfriend that is double your size.
It’s actually quite beneficial, coming up with ways to escape his death grip each time the two of you declare war against each other; could be vital in critical situations.  Sometimes however, you find yourself trapped, your mind thinking of a strategy to flee from the large hands that managed to get a hold of your wrists.
“Leon, that’s not fair your grip is too tight!” You squirm, pulling your arms away but to no avail as he drags them back. “What happened to ‘Don’t go easy on me, I’m stronger than you think’?”
Should’ve kept your mouth shut is what should’ve happened, you wouldn’t be fighting for your life if you did that. Actually no, you would’ve been doing that either way, no idea why you keep willingly putting yourself in these situations when you have no track record of winning. You struggle, flinging your arms away quickly, rotating your wrists, hell you even tried biting, and he won’t budge. “Does someone need a little help?”
Great, he’s mocking you now. Should’ve went for skinnier guys, not ones that went to police academy for three years, and a government training program for five.
You could try to kick him, but you’d lose your footing on the bed. That would just make it easier for him, this man would not waste a minute to knock you off your feet if he ever had the opportunity of doing so. While you’re over here thinking, the cogs in our brain working in full efficiency, he’s grinning. God, that stupid grin, he looks so cute, yet punching it off his adorable face sounds satisfying.
Since when was he a fucking sadist anyway?
In the midst of your attempts to pull away, the iron grip he has on your arm causes your torso to lunge forward.
Rookie mistake.
His body leans in, placing his head between your arm and waist, throwing you over his shoulder before slamming you back down onto the mattress of the bed below you. Clicking his tongue, he climbs on top, shaking his head in mockery. “Every time, you fall for it every time.”
Rubbing it in your face, typical. Ok maybe he’s correct, you have fallen for this once…or twice… or thrice before but you’re still new to this!
Chuckling, he nuzzles into the crook of your neck before kissing your cheek, his hand caressing your waist, finger slipping beneath the oversized shirt you’re wearing. His lips feel soft against the sensitive skin, causing heat to pool between your thighs.
But you can’t lose, not so early at least.
You try to get up, plopping your hand down on the mattress below, attempting to pull him off of you. Your swift movements however, were met by his familiar hand grabbing your shoulder and pushing it back down.
Your competitive side starts to peek through, trying your absolute best to put up a fight. Albeit, trying to escape his grip is a lesson you’ve just learned the outcome of. And so, one more option is left if you want to win.
Fake an injury.
A yelp escapes your lips, turning your head over to the side, knots forming between your brows as you feign pain. His expression immediately softens, pulling away from you to see what’s the matter, his yank couldn’t have been that rough, could it?
It wasn’t, not even in the slightest, you just got to pull on those sweet, sweet heart strings of his, find that weak spot, that slight glimmer of hope and run with it. Just as you expected, he softens, the hand placed on you shoulder slackens, giving you the golden opportunity that you’ve been hoping for.
With a smug expression, you push him off of you, getting up and dashing out of the room. You don’t look back, but you can just imagine the dumbfounded expression plastered all over his face, betrayed and aghast.
It’s not till you’re in the living room till you hear his footsteps approaching; you stand there, legs ready to sprint at any given moment. His figure walks down the hall and into the room you’re in, he stands a few feet away from you, his lips curled up into a smile.
You wait anxiously, eyes scanning his body, trying to decipher his next move.
“Better start running.”
Without even thinking twice, you sprint; running around the couch as he follows you. Your heart is beating out of your chest as your socked feet hit the hard wood floor over and over again as his follow pursuit.
You’re not even thinking straight anymore, your fight or flight mode activated, trying your best to run around him. And for the first ten seconds you were doing great, jumping over the couch, throwing a few pillows at him, even dodged his attacks.
But it all goes south when you get cornered, the only way out is through him. You’re fucked, and he knows that; slowly walking over towards you, the glimmer of hope that you once had dissipating with each step forward he takes.
“I’m sorry, Leon. Please, please, I’m sorry.” You apologize between squeals and giggles. This is actually so scary; your heart is about to fall out of your ass at this rate. “That was a very dirty move back there, you know?”
Shit, shit, shit.
“I wanted to win, please.” The same grin forms on his lips, the joyful expression on his face juxtaposing yours which is full of anxiousness. “That wasn’t so nice of you, it’s called cheating.”
Realizing there is no point in sweet talking your way out of this one, your legs move on their own, sprinting and praying that you make it through. But of course, you don’t.
His arm grabs your waist, pulling you back before carrying you over his shoulder once again. He laughs as you squirm, walking back over to your shared bedroom.
Plopping you back down on the bed, his fingers begin to tickle your sides as you flop around like a fish out of water. Your laughter echoes through the room, the cramping feeling in your stomach being hard to ignore as you attempt to fight off his persistent fingers.
“Stop! Leon, stop!” you say in-between laughter, the whole experience feeling like torture more than anything. “What do you say?”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll never do it again!” He stops, his hands resting on the side of your hips as you wipe off the tears on the corner of your eyes. He smiles, leaning in again and leaving a soft kiss on your lips before murmuring against them. “Told you I always win.”
You roll your eyes, hands tangled in his hair. “Yeah, yeah, shut up.”
Smiling, you pull him closer till his lips connect with yours. It’s slow and sweet, affection filled eyes and intertwined fingers, getting lost in each other’s taste. His chest is flush against yours, rapid heartbeats syncing, riding the same high of emotions.
Pulling away, he placed a final kiss on your chin before putting his head beneath your shirt; well, it’s his shirt but that’s besides the point. He plants a tender kiss on the middle of your chest, littering a few more around before moving down you your lower stomach leaving kisses anywhere he could.
You wince as his cold fingertips graze your skin, a chuckle escaping his lips in return. Running his palm up your sides, pulling the shirt off your body. You help, raising your arms up as he discards it behind him.
His eyes fall on your chest, hands immediately fondling and groping the tender flesh. “Look at those, so fucking pretty.”
Blushing, you watch him lean in, his mouth clasping around your stiff peak. Your eyes close in pleasure as he lets out a grunt, tongue flicking and teeth slightly grazing amplifying the pleasure. Blue eyes lock with yours, a subtle smile forming on his lips as he hears the sounds you’re making for him.
“Fuck, sweetheart, can’t wait to hear all those cute sounds you’d make when I fuck you stupid.” He speaks, fingers pinching your sensitive nipples, sending pulses of pleasure to your needy cunt. “Yes, please.”
“Yeah? Have all the neighbors hear how good you feel? How well you take it?” You nod, placing your hand on his muscly forearm. “Want it.”
He kisses you one more time before slapping your ass. “Turn around, baby.”
You comply, turning around till your chest is flush against the mattress with your ass in the air. Biting his lip, his rough hands move up the back of your thighs before caressing the fat of your ass, kneading the soft skin.
His fingers grab the rim of your shorts, yanking them down along with your panties, leaving your wet cunt on full display for him. His thumb presses against your weeping pussy, running it through the wet folds and then moving down to draw firm circles on your clit. “Fuck, she’s crying for me, sweetheart. Got such a slutty girlfriend.”
You moan and nuzzle against the bedsheets below, his words passing through your ears and swimming in your mind. Grabbing your ass with both hands this time, he spreads it, groaning at the sight. Open mouthed kisses are placed on your thighs, followed by a few licks and shallow bites. You squirm as you feel him blow on your cunt, the cool air hitting the hot area.
Deciding he’s had enough, he connects his mouth to your pussy, tongue slipping into the hole, making out with it. You grip the sheets beneath, a whimper escaping your lips as he grunts at the taste of your fluids, a large hand smacking your ass before rubbing the hot skin.
Moving back, he spits on your cunt watching the tear shaped saliva drip down and mix with your taste before lapping it back up. You chant his name in between moans, your head feeling fuzzy as he eats you out breathlessly.
“Gonna cum.” You whine, looking back over at him as he nuzzles into your heat, before pulling away. “Cum, sweetheart. Cream my face so I can fuck this cute little pussy.”
Your hand moves down to cup your breast as his thumb rubs your pudgy clit while continuing to fuck his tongue into you. Your mind goes blank as you orgasm, legs shuddering and threatening to collapse as he holds you in place.
“Good fucking girl.” He mutters before licking up your release, moaning as his hand gropes your thighs. It isn’t long however before you hear him get up, your worn-out eyes looking back at him as he pulls down his sweatpants along with his boxers, leaving them behind on the hard-wood floor.
The mattress shifts beneath you as he climbs on the bed, his hand rubbing his painfully hard dick. You bite your lip at the sight of it, thick with some veins running along its side. You gulp, your salivary glands becoming hyperactive at the idea of taking him into your mouth.
His rough hand grips your ass again, the other one leading his cock to your entrance. He spits down onto the pink head; not like that’s necessary. The tip bumps against your clit teasingly, running through your wet folds, collecting all the fluids it can.
You feel your walls stretch as he begins to push his hips forward, the sensation earning a moan out of the two of you. You squeeze around him, your face planted in the sheets bellow as you try to adjust.
A familiar touch travels down your back, and back up to your hips. He pulls out momentarily before fucking back into you; feeling the head of his fat cock kiss the opening of your cervix with each thrust. Your sounds get muffled against the mattress, too overwhelmed by the intense feeling of pleasure.
The creaking noises of the bed slows down as he wraps his arm around your waist pulling your back flush against him, his fingers snaking up and grabbing your jaw. “Didn’t we agree on letting everyone know how good you’re getting fucked? Hm? Getting shy all of a sudden?”
You shake your head as his hips continue to snap against yours. “Good, let me hear you, sweetheart.”
His pace quickens, the sound of skin slapping and dirty moans filling the whole room. His head hides in the crook of your neck as he focuses on his thrusts, your hand grabbing his arm for support. “Rub that clit for me, baby; squeeze that fucking cunt around my cock.”
He holds your hand and brings it up to his mouth, coating your index and middle finger with his saliva and guiding them to your sensitive bundle of nerves. You do as you’re told, rubbing your slippery clit as your boyfriend slams into you again, and again.
You begin to sense the hazy feeling of release approaching, Leon’s hot breath hitting your neck as he pants. His hand grips your hip vehemently, a grip strong enough to leave a mark for the next day or two. “Squeezing me so tight, pussy made f’me.”
You’re completely cock drunk, nodding mindlessly at whatever he says; the desire between your thighs being the only prominent thought on your mind.
“Leon, I’m gonna cum again.”
“I know, sweetheart. Let go for me, let me see my baby all blissed out.” You mewl, nails digging into his forearm as your body trembles. Leon’s breath hitches as you squeeze around him, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he chases his own high.
“Fuck fuck fuck.”  He mutters between gritted teeth, his eyes shutting close. The arm wrapped around your waist relaxes causing you to lay back down on the mattress. He fucks into you a few more times before immediately pulling out, white ropes of cum shooting out and landing on your ass and puffy cunt, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
The room falls quiet as the two of you catch your breaths. Taking his shirt off, he wipes away his release, kissing the lower of your back affectionately and discarding the dirty piece of fabric on the floor.
He lays down next to you, pulling you close against his chest, petting your hair.
“Doing well?”
“Mhm.”
“…We should play fight more often.”
Tumblr media
divider by: @/cafekitsune
663 notes · View notes
thesilmarillionblog · 1 month ago
Text
𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒
Summary: You play Soldier Boy's wife in the new movie. He's a method actor, and so are you. 
Pairing: Soldier Boy / F! Reader
Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), SMUT, Soldier Boy is cheating CC, rough sex, oral sex (m! receiving), kinda role playing, kinky, unprotected sex, dirty talk, porn without plot lol, set in late 1970's
Word Count: 3283
A/N: English is not my first language.
Tumblr media
"Cut!"
Soldier Boy winked at you, pulled his lips back, and loosened his firm arms over your back as the director ordered. His hand continued to touch you daringly during the romantic scenes, so it must have been fun for him to witness your heart race. After licking your lips, you faced the director, who had been discussing the specifics with the rest of his staff.
With an anxious expression on his face, the director wanted to tell Soldier Boy something, but he was too scared to say anything since Soldier Boy wasn't the most sensible person when it came to providing guidance. Whatever was said to him didn't matter. Never.
The director then collected all of his stuff and gestured for you to join him. After taking the iced coffee, Soldier Boy turned to face the anxiously breathing and sweating director in front of him. 
“Now what?” Sitting in the chair, Soldier Boy stretched out his muscles and asked in a harsh voice.
Soldier Boy became irate every time he was given instructions to act with greater enthusiasm and better, suggesting that the director, Mr. Nathan, must be dying of dread and worry. 
“It's a romantic film,” Mr. Nathan remarked, appearing to become agitated as he brought up his hands on his hips. “And the subject at hand is war. It's meant to be intimate and heartfelt.”
“And?”
“You shouldn't behave as though you're going to have sex like you're in an adult film. I hope you don't take offense, sir. You're an excellent actor. However, would you mind being a bit more romantic? It would be quite beneficial.”
Snorting, Soldier Boy said, “Fuck that. A sentimental war film, huh? Jesus... I have no doubt that young soldiers would find greater use for pornographic films if we produced some. Believe me, If I fuck her and then leave her to join war, that would make women and men all cry their eyes out. Are we really making this trash movie for housewives only? Who approved this fucking script anyway?”
“Sure and no, sir—no, definitely not. I'm among those who approved, of course, and I can tell you that the script is excellent. Act a little more genuine. This is a movie that everyone should see. If you'd prefer, we could change the actress. If it would help you to be partners with Crimson Countess, maybe we can arrange that.”
The director looked at you, and you crossed your arms over your chest. Stupid coward. That would be the beginning of your best work, but his terrified ass was prepared to destroy your career before it had ever begun. 
“Oh fuck no!” Soldier Boy gulped down his cold coffee. “Not her dry pussy coming over here. My co-star is talented and fine enough.”
You were going to defend yourself in front of the director, but luckily Soldier Boy was kind enough to stand up for you, which made things much better. You were giving him every indication that, in the end, you would do anything to get this job. You would never have taken part in a greater movie before, and Soldier Boy would be the ideal match for it. That was the top of your career already. He was attractive and interesting, but it was difficult to resist and melt into him at the moments when he was meant to give you a gentle kiss. Clearly, that wasn't his thing—being gentle and loving.
It wasn't your thing either.
Mr. Nathan sighed and answered, “Sure,” becoming tired of Soldier Boy not caring at all about what he was trying to say. “We're all going to have some break, and then we can go on filming, is that alright?”
“All right. Whatever,” Soldier Boy said. His specialty was not romantic war films, obviously. He sounded so corny in situations that you could be positive he detested every single love phrase he ever delivered. But none of you had the guts to tell him that out loud. 
If he wasn't concerned about his acting in the first place, that didn't matter to you. There were times when you found it amusing that he was exaggerating in order to enrage the director. It was difficult for you to not break your character in these situations. The kissing scenes, however, were exceptional. You would have let him fuck you if he had made the move right then. He was only getting you wet with his tongue. 
As soon as Mr. Nathan left, Soldier Boy stood up and stepped toward you, looking intently at you. Your entire body tingled with anticipation. Desire was already causing your legs to tremble. 
With a low tone, he said, “Follow me,” and handed his empty cup to someone. 
With joy, you followed instructions. You had already been thinking filthy stuff since the morning. Your pussy was swollen, and your underwear was already wet since he had been teasing you so much. 
He locked the door when you followed him to his trailer.
He approached your body and looked at your long skirt before saying, “So,” and licked his lips. “What are you thinking about that guy who said that? About acting and anything else?”
As his thumb lingered on your breast, stroking it to make you go wild, you put your hands over his chest, excited about what was about to happen. Your thighs tensed with yearning. 
Whispering, "He might be right," you ran a hand down his chest and felt his hardness through his trousers. 
He smiled a bit at you when he realized you were ready for a quick fuck. You continued to softly touch him there, and his cock hardened. 
With a sigh, “About?” he began to undo your dress so he could see your tits. 
“About your acting,” you muttered as his harsh hand continued to torment you. “You should act more romantically and intimately.” 
“Hmm,” was all he said. 
He palmed both of your tits after he had finished unbuttoning your dress. 
“I consider myself to be a method actor,” he said, grinning arrogantly at you. 
You smirked and said, “What a coincidence; me too,” as you unzipped his pants. You lowered his pants and waited for him to give you guidance. “But what would your girlfriend, Crimson Countess, think about that?”
“I don't see an issue if you seal your pretty mouth. I also don't want to fuck her dry cunt forever. Now, get on your knees,” he said rudely, then, putting his hand behind your head, he pushed you on your knees.
Your pulse was pounding as you followed instructions. It wasn't that you were inexperienced, but it also wasn't that you were doing it for the first time. It had only lasted a minute or two until you had completed it in the past. It hadn't pleased you. You had immediately stopped. 
You were ecstatic to see Soldier Boy's massive, pulsating cock, though. You wrapped your hands around his thick shaft, and you licked your dry lips, sensing its weight in your palm. It was exciting and tantalizing to consider sucking the strongest superhero on the planet. 
You murmured, looking at his face and lightly brushing the tip with your lips, “What do you want me to do?” It was apparent that he was beginning to take pleasure in and enjoy what he was seeing. “Sir.”
He grinned at you and tightened his grasp behind your hair when he heard the final word, letting you know how weak you are in comparison to him. After all, you were both method actors, and the game you were playing was harmless. He was definitely thrilled.
He continued, taking his big cock in his hand and pressing it against your lips. “You're a naughty one, aren't you? About to be railed and excited to suck your co-star's cock. Not because you want to get the job, but simply to be fucked.”
“Maybe,” you said, licking the tip with your tongue. It didn't taste horrible, but it was salty. “Maybe I just want to get fucked by a supe; maybe it's because I want to keep my job.”
He finally lost patience with you and shoved his cock inside your mouth when you continued to tease him. You obeyed and took his cock in your mouth. You could take the head since his shaft was far too big for you, yet it was clear that he wanted more.
“Or perhaps I agree with the director's wish for my co-star to act more intimate in his part.” You teased him and palmed his heavy balls, adding, “Would you act more romantic just like you are expected if I was there, standing while your cum inside me?” You were certain that he would come early enough.
“You shouldn't worry about it. My cum will be flowing between your legs as you wander around,” he groaned. “But you'll suck that cock nice firstly.”
He pushed his cock into your mouth again before you could respond. You started to lick it by slowly getting used to the size of it before figuring out the right rhythm.
“Take it more,” he moaned, pressing your head on his cock. You were too aroused to resist, yet it was difficult to withstand his strength.
You attempted to take more of his throbbing cock by opening your mouth wider and placing your hands on his knees for assistance, but it was too huge.
“Fucking take it,” he snapped, annoyed by your poor attempt. Taking complete control, he then reached behind your hair with his other hand and stilled your head.
He made you choke around him by forcing half of his cock into your mouth with such power that you gagged uncontrollably. But you were determined to push yourself to the very limit. Under the mercy of the most powerful supe made you feel things. You had no idea that you needed such treatment in order to suck a cock properly. You became more and more wet as he applied more pressure, made you choke, and filled your mouth with his cock. 
When you finally had enough of him, he withdrew so he could grab your mouth and start to fuck your face.
"You like that, don't you?" He moved your head to his cock because he enjoyed it. "You like being used like this? You like being controlled, huh? Yes, fuck. Take it!"
His cock, which was covered in your saliva, began to pulse in your mouth as he continued to fuck it. You clenched up, knowing what was about to happen. Your fingers gripped his legs more tightly as you tried to keep up with his power. 
He asked, “You want it in your mouth?” However, it was obvious that it wasn't a question. Both of you and him were lost in pleasure. 
Soldier Boy pulled back his cock and rubbed it on your reddening lips and waited for your response. 
“Yes, please,” you moaned. “I need you finish in my mouth.”
He groaned, “Anything for my co-star,” and pushed his shaft back into your mouth as hard as he could. It was hot inside your throat. 
You shivered in delight and disbelief as he started to flow in your throat, releasing his hot sperm. You moved a bit to relax, but he gave a loud grunt and stilled your head. 
He moaned, “Fucking swallow,” as he continued to thrust his cock farther. You were so out of breath that tears were streaming down your face. He was cursing as he filled your mouth with his thick cum.
When he makes you taste him, you close your eyes and let him release his hot semen into your mouth fully. Though you weren't sure whether you liked the taste at all due to how strong and salty it was, you really enjoyed the whole process. You felt slick there; the way he was controlling your body was beyond perfect. 
He withdrew his cock back once he had finished fucking your mouth. 
Grasping your chin firmly, he said, “Let me see it.” 
Your mouth opened. Excited, you could feel your legs quivering and hoping he wasn't done with you just yet. Even though you weren't sure whether you had enough time to go all the way, you needed to be touched so desperately. 
He said, “Good girl,” seeing that you swallowed all. “Get up now.” 
Without allowing you to react, he made you stand once more. It was absurd how he was still hard destipe spilling inside your mouth seconds ago. You wondered how frequently he would need to come in order to soften. It may have been because he was a supe. The cause didn't matter to you. Thank goodness he had the energy to continue. After all, you had your own needs. 
“I hope we are not finished yet,” you stated, indicating your intentions with another stroke of his now firm cock. 
“You want to be fucked badly, don't you?” Your long skirt was pulled up by the tough hands of Soldier Boy, who gave you a sly smile. “You enjoy getting fucked by engaged men?”
When his erect cock brushed your thighs and you felt out of breath, you taunted him, “Only the supes.”
He chuckled and had a brief look at your underwear. You were relieved he hadn't ripped them off. He removed your tits from your white bra and pushed your unbuttoned shirt down. You arched back properly when he gave your nipples a little play.
“Let's check to see whether you're wet enough to handle it all now. Tell me you're not a virgin.” He gave a warning but added, “I'm going to fuck you raw anyway.”
“I'm not,” you moaned, impatient for him to get inside. This time, you were unable to stop pleading. “Could you please fuck me already?”
The way you begged him made Soldier Boy smirk. “Since you're begging so nicely...”
He grabbed your hair into his palm, then gave his cock five or six firm strokes to make himself completely erect. He then bent your body into the trailer's wall and positioned himself behind your entrance. 
When you actually noticed how much bigger he was than your hole, you gasped. Not that you didn't get fucked, but it had really been a while. 
“Relax a little for fucks sake. Take it properly, or it's going to hurt. I won't give a fuck,” he warned, pressing himself farther inside of you.
You tensed up. He was pulling your hair a little and knowing that if he utilized his strength a little more, he could break your neck. That should have alarmed you, but instead it enhanced your excitement. Being at a supe's mercy as he fucked you was more exciting than any other sex you had ever had because you never knew if he might lose control while trying to get his pleasure. 
He made you scream with pleasure and pain as he pushed his entire cock inside of you, pushing back with one strong motion. You began to moan and tried to fix your balance, but he instantly stilled your body by pulling your hair.
He moaned in rage, “Don't fucking move,” and proceeded to fuck you senselessly. Your eyes watered with every move he made, and your insides ached a bit. Both the pleasure and the pain that you experienced were immense.
“That's how you should get fucked. Like a slut you are. You are a slut, aren't you? You wanted me to fuck you there?” He groaned while continuing to penetrate you from the back. Your hair was tugged again by his hand. He needed a response. 
“Yeah,” you moaned, placing a hand against his severe grip on your hip. “I needed you to fuck me right there.”
He was obviously pleased with your response since you could almost hear him smirking. 
“Oh, yeah. Are you not embarrassed to want to have sex with an engaged man? Allow him to use your body any way he chooses. Show him that you are better than his future wife. You like the idea of a supe cheating on his girlfriend with you?” His filthy words caused your walls to contract as he gave you a strong and quick fuck. You were embarrassingly wet. 
You teased him, “So what?” in between moans. “In the film we're in, we're husband and wife, right? We need to get into the role properly.”
“Do you think you can wear my sperm right there and yet perform your role properly? What would they say if they knew? Will you tell them you wanted me to fuck you so that you could do your role more effectively? Do you want everyone to know your cunt is full of my cum? Is that it?” 
You knew that the game you were playing was making him more thrilled, so when he bent your body harder, you let out an excited gasp. He widened your legs and placed both of his hands on each side of your hips. Without his support, you would have already fallen. 
You screamed out, “Yes, please, please,” as your walls continued to clench around his thick cock. “Husband.” 
“Oh fuck,” he groaned as he got closer. He firmly gripped your bouncing tits and gave them a firm squeeze. “I'm going to fill you so good. Going to satisfy my wife's small greedy cunt nicely. Do you really want that, baby?         Where do you want me to cum?”
Moaning, “Yeah, oh fuck, fuck. Please come inside, husband.” Your orgasm hit so hard you had to scream his name this time. You were sure some of the staff heard your screaming. Your walls clenched badly. You got his dick wet with your slick as your legs were trembling frantically. You felt like you were about to pass out from the intense fucking you were getting from him during your peak.
He moaned, “Whatever my wife wishes,” as he continued to penetrate you despite your oversensitivity. He then began to come inside of you with a loud grunt. Before he came, he held your hips so forcefully that you felt he was going to break your body till he was satisfied. 
He cautiously removed his cock after giving you a bit more pleasure and making sure he had emptied his balls within your pussy. He gave you a hard spank on the ass and complimented you on your well-done move, seeing how his sperm was flowing between your legs. 
You grinned to yourself and pulled up your underwear when you knew you were fucked well for real. You could let him fuck you again since his hot sperm in you felt so nice. 
As he was complimenting you, you could hear him stuffing his dick back into his pants. “Now that was a good fuck.”
You looked at him and fixed your shirt, skirt, and hair. “I'm glad you enjoyed,” you said, biting your lips. You could still taste him.
“I'm sure I'm not the only one who enjoyed it,” he said, immediately lighting a cigarette and giving you a sly smirk. 
You were told to expect on the set in five minutes when someone knocked on the door right then. You smiled to yourself, undisturbed by the stares from the staff, and spent the remainder of the day with Soldier Boy. You both believed that the method of acting had had the intended impact on you and him. The director was pleased with the two of you. After the break, Soldier Boy was acting better, at least. If only they knew the reason.
It's true that method acting helped you get into your roles better. Particularly behind the scenes.
⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆───⛥───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───⛥───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Comments and reblogs are very appreciated. Let me know what you think please. For more, here's my MASTERLIST. ♥︎
419 notes · View notes
mrs-elsie-barnes · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Missed You | Bucky x Reader | Mutually Beneficial AU | Drabble
You and Bucky have been dying for some alone time and there's a new thing he wants to try.
Warnings: 18+ sexual content, dom!Bucky, dirty talk, pet names & honourifics, daddy kink, oral sex, p in v, creampie, fingering, praise kink, bondage, spreader bar. S for smut and D for Daddy.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Mutually Beneficial Masterlist
Tumblr media
Bucky held the flat silver tag between his metal thumb and forefinger, leading you towards your room as he stepped backwards.
"Missed you, Babydoll" he hushed.
"I've been right here, Sarge," you were aiming for even and controlled, but the way he leads you so gently, his dark eyes, you're already under his spell so your words are followed by a breathy gasp.
"No, you weren't, not really. And neither was I." He was right. It'd been such a long week. A mission gone horribly wrong led to an Agent in Bucky's squad getting shot. Not fatally, they were currently milking their wounded soldier status across the compound. But the guilt of it was burning through him. Between his mission, your reports, briefings and a mission of your own you hadn't had any time to be truly together.
"I know, Sarge. But I'm here now, whatever you want from me, I'm here," and you meant it. His need for some semblance of order, of control, to bring joy and not pain, you would always give that to him if he could. You leaned up, nudging your nose with this, planting a light kiss against his lips.
"Do you trust me?" He cooed, so close you could almost taste the sharp coldness of his minty toothpaste.
"Yes, Sarge," you can't help how quiet you become with him, barely a whisper.
"Good. Climb on the bed, Baby. Clothes off." You scramble onto your back, shedding your clothes in a pile on the floor. Eagerly you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him watch you back, blue eyes blown dark.
He steps forwards slowly and reaches under the bed, pulling out a metal pole.
"I saw this, do you wanna play?" He holds it up in the dim light. Black metal with a soft cuff at either end.
"A spreader bar?" You thought you were wet before but this is nothing. Bucky researching on his own, buying sex toys while he thinks of you gives you such a rush you can barely contain yourself.
"God, yes, please!" You lay back again, legs spread waiting for him. Gently he cuffs one leg then the other, there's a little movement when you wiggle your ankle but you can't move your legs together or apart. Bucky looks down at you hungrily, watching as you test the limits of your bondage.
His hands danced up your legs, featherlight, "you look good like this, Babydoll, all spread out for me." His thumbs ran over you, teasing your drenched folds. Apart, a tentative swipe, and then together again. The ache worse than before, "you look beautiful. All mine. And you'll do as you're told, won't you, because you're a good girl." He tapped lightly with one finger against your clit illiciting a wanton desperate moan.
"I asked you a question, you'll be my good girl, won't you?" He tapped again, harder. You're not sure you've ever fallen so fast into subspace. You struggled for words, your brain fighting for coherent thoughts.
"Answer me, Babydoll, or have I got you wrong. Are you a bad girl after all?" He slapped the inside of your thigh, the damp of your own slick making it sting harder.
"I'll be good, Daddy," it slipped out before you could stop yourself but you're still reeling from his hands on you, too gone to notice.
"What did you call me?" He sat back, his patented stare in full effect, bringing you slowly back into the light.
"I'm sorry, Sarge, what did I say?" Heat suffused your cheeks, burning your skin.
"You called me Daddy." Bucky's voice was a low, rough growl that had your knees bending in.
It's not a word you'd used before with Bucky, once or twice with other partners and certainly in the porn you watch. But you haven't talked about it. This wasn't in your negotiations. Your blood runs cold and that single coherent thought that struggled so hard before floats to the surface 'you've ruined everything'.
"Sorry, Daddy, I mean, I said Daddy, sorry, Daddy, I mean Sarge, Daddy, Sir. Sorry."
Bucky smirked and licked his bottom lip before taking it between his teeth briefly.
"Are you angry, don't be angry, Daddy, Sarge, Sir, sorry. I, I can't think. I - please. Just punish me, I'm sorry. I-" he let's his lip drop, licking over the bite mark again. He knew exactly what that did to you, how it made you feel hot all over.
"You're not in trouble" His hand was gentle as it skimmed your cheek. "Didn't know you'd like that. Didn't know I liked that" His thumb rubbed over your lip, and you took the opportunity to lick the pad, pulling the digit into your mouth. Vibranium doesn't really taste of anything, but the action was soothing, a hint of your own arousal lingering.
"You keep calling me that, Baby, and you can have anything you want. Okay?" He popped his thumb out of your mouth and trailed it around your nipple before giving the nub a little tweak.
You squeaked in surprise, "Yes, Daddy," and he groaned back.
"I think it's been long enough. I need to feel you, Baby, you be good and still for me, okay." He tugged the bar between your legs, pulling you further down the bed before carefully flipping you over, ass in the air and face pressed into the blankets.
"Yes, Daddy," you chanted again and Bucky was glad you couldn't see him, pressing his own face into the curve of your spine to hide his grin.
"Good girl," he pushed in as his praise made you flutter, griping your hips as he set a slow, firm pace, pressing against the soft secret spot inside that makes you see stars. His pace wasn't fast but Bucky was always relentless, no space to think, just him and you and the way he makes you feel.
"Feels good, I missed you so much, I needed this." You moaned out, whining before you could stop the pathetic noise from escaping. You were back to black, nothing but the feel of Bucky inside you, his hands on your body. He roamed further, pressing gently and tweaking at your clit, hard and aching under you. You rutted back trying to get some control to push you over the edge he had you dangling over.
"No, no, Babydoll, be a good girl." He grabbed the bar and slowly pushed it further up the bed, forcing your knees closer to your chest and bending you almost in half, "you can be good for me, right? All I need you to do is stay there," he punctuated his command with a slap to your ass, but you were already nodding your head as hard as you could, your hand under your forehead to keep you upright, "I knew you could be good for Daddy."
That did it, hearing him say it back was too much, electricity coiled up from your toes, a shock of lighting up your spine as you spasm and clutch at him however you can.
"Daddy!" You mewled as you came, your hand reaching back for his, fingers closing around your wrist and holding it down against the bed as he lost control, hips stuttering, bruising against your back. You both fell forward into the mattress as he filled you, deep and hot, painting ever inch of you.
"Jesus, fuck, baby," his nose rubbed against your back, hot kisses running down your spine, keeping you spread out, hands above your head.
The cuffs left your ankles but you stayed prone on the bed anyway, only turning enough to smile back at Bucky, his hair sticking up with sweat. You followed a droplet down his chest, gulping when you noticed he's still half hard.
"Let's take a minute," he kissed each ankle while he helped you turn onto your back, wrapping each leg around his waist and holding you against him as you come down from your high. "Oh baby, don't wanna waste anything," he chided, lifting your hips a little higher, leaning forwards and sliding a hand over you where his cum seeps down your leg. Two fingers swiped through it and meet your lips encouraging you to suck. His other hand palmed his seed back into you, fucking two fingers in and out slowly, gently curling and pulling another surprising orgasm past your lips. Silent and begging you gasp and writhe beneath him, too tired and fucked out to do more than take the pleasure he was giving you.
His kisses were back then, fluttering over your temple and your ear.
"Beautiful, Babydoll, beautiful," is the last thing you heared, floating into sleepy bliss.
"Thank you, Daddy."
Tumblr media
722 notes · View notes
kaznejis · 1 year ago
Text
Public affair- Bucky Barnes x Reader
The Avengers PR department designs the perfect fake relationship for you- the key to instant fame and high ratings. Except, you’re already in a relationship with Bucky. 
Word Count: 8.2k / Read it on AO3! / Part 2!
Enjoy! 
Tumblr media
“You’re joking- tell me she’s joking right?” you laughed, turning in the padded desk chair you had been ushered into upon entering the meeting room to stare at Nick Fury- the man only stared back at you, nonchalant as ever. 
“No, Miss L/N, we aren’t joking,” he rose, striding towards the refreshments table to pour himself a fresh coffee, “We find that this initiative will be … beneficial towards our engagement and how the public perceive the Avengers.”
The young, public representations co-ordinator that had informed you of the plan nodded then, shuffling a stack of folders and clicking her heels under the table; a mixture of excitement and optimism, “Miss, this project will see a significant rise in traction towards the Avengers, I mean, come on- you’re young and hot; everyone either wants to be you, be with you or see you in a beautiful, public relationship. Seeing as though the first two are impossible; this is the only option.”
“Okay,” you nodded, twirling a pen before aiming it at the woman, “Did you, may perhaps, forget the part where I’m in a relationship already?”
The woman sighed then, her lips thinning; the plump redness of her lipstick almost disappearing as stress lines creased her face. Trailing a finger down the edge of her folders, she spoke slowly- as if coaxing a rabid dog, “You see- Mr Barnes isn’t exactly, you know, the kind of person for a project like this–” 
“Seriously? Isn’t a public display of affection what this is all about?”
“No, Y/N- this is about public ratings. The public will not bide well with you having any form of a relationship with someone like … Mr Barnes; it would be career suicide for me and everyone in the PR department.” 
You nodded, humming and scrunching your eyebrows together as if about to say something inquisitive until your face dropped entirely, “Yeah, okay. I’m leaving.”
Nick stopped you before you could leave your seat, raising a hand and rendering you seated with the simple gesture, “Just hear her out, Miss L/N.” 
“Fury- you’re telling me you approve of this? You recruited us to be superheroes; not influencers.”
Nick turned then, placing his mug of coffee down and retreating back towards the table before sitting directly across from you; a pensive look on his face, “I’m sorry Y/N, but our ratings have dropped significantly recently. If people don’t support us, they won’t want us to save them. Just hear Sophia out.” 
Scoffing, you turned in your seat to glare at ‘Sophia’ who only continued to click her heels beneath the table, perhaps it had been nerves after all. “The plan is to have you appear in a few high profile locations with our high profile representative,” she reached for a remote and activated the projector before you, pictures of your ‘selection’ appeared, “So- don’t worry we have preliminarily selected your choice for you-”
“I don’t even get a choice?” you spat, leaning towards the woman in your chair; nothing but shock prevalent in your features, “So you’re shipping me off to just about anyone you can find?” 
“He is not just anyone!” Sophia snapped, her curled blonde hair bobbing back and forth as she seemed genuinely offended, “We have specially selected the perfect man for you; he’s military and is the first to gain three medals of honour. He’s a similar age and he is extremely respected within the public right now as he recently donated a lot of money to a selection of charities. It’s perfect!” She sat back in her chair as if overlooking an art piece, hands clasped together. 
Fury sighed, thumbing at his brow, “I’m sorry Y/N- but you’re arguably our most favoured female avenger- the public love you.” Raising his hands, he turned towards the projector where a recent video of you coaxing a herd of school children away from a fire began to play- your grip on their shoulders protective as you led each one away to safety. “You’re a positive influence towards our younger audiences and we all know that teen audiences love a good romance.” 
“You know, Fury,” you spoke slowly, lifting your feet to rest them on top of the table- much to Sophia’s chagrin, “Prostitution is illegal in the United States Of America.” 
“Y/N-” 
“Oh my Goodness!” 
“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous,” Nick composed himself, straightening his blazer and huffing at you, “It’s just a few dinners, picnics- whatever you kids like to do. You don’t even have to meet with him behind closed doors. It is strictly professional.” 
Shaking your head, you huffed- lowering your feet from the table and sitting back in your chair, “And what about Bucky? Hm? What will he think of this?” 
Fury opened his mouth to speak, though before he could, Sophia butted in; her voice urgent but smug, “Actually, Mr Barnes did agree to it. He was completely happy for you to do so.” 
“You’re lying.” You snapped, your voice stone-cold; disgusted at the woman before you who was willing to pamper with your relationship. You and Bucky had endured too much for the lower departments of Stark Tower to have any form of a say in your relationship- too much hardship, trauma and healing as you had fought both figurative and literal battles together. Despair swirled in your gut as you realised that others didn’t see Bucky the same way you did- seeing him only for the past that he had no say in and the contractual record that created a constant, trawling paper trail behind him. Every step he took was slowed by the consequential weight of his past. They didn’t see the same Bucky that made you breakfast in the morning or cuddled into your back at night. The same Bucky that woke up sweating, crying, screaming more nights than not, the same one that had fervently torn the hair from his head as the slightest change in position reminded him of the grease and decay that had once tainted his sight. They would never understand the complexity of Bucky Barnes and the beautiful flaws that etched beneath the tinge of his skin. 
Sophia’s mouth twisted in visibly faked sympathy, her lipstick now dyeing the edges of her lips red with an abrasive smudge. “Luckily, I predicted you would act like this, so I ensured to get his signature as solid proof for you. I don’t see any reason as to why you couldn’t be involved in this so you just need to scroll down and sign the next box.” She turned the screen before you and low and behold- Bucky’s signature lay before you in his individual bold scrawl. Tony had recently introduced a new system in order to avoid fraud and increase confidentiality- everything in Stark tower is accessed through fingerprints. Nothing unwanted can get in and nothing important could get out without sufficient clearance. Bucky was the only person that could have input the specific signature- the system making it impossible to replicate. Unease tinged in your throat then, if Bucky had truly agreed to this, then surely it would be for the best? If anyone were to understand the feeling of rage and disapproval within the public eye, it was Bucky. 
“Did he … say anything when he agreed?”
She smiled, the creases not quite reaching her eyes as they squinted, “He said that it was a great idea and he showed his full support for you. He said, and I quote, that he will willingly watch from the sidelines. What a great boyfriend, huh?”
You nodded, your attempts to hide the upset twist of your lips a failure as you scanned your fingerprint against the screen- Sophia’s face practically alive with glee as she confirmed its existence. As you shook hands with her, confirming a later meeting date- you failed to notice the lack of input from Nick. 
-
For hours you stewed over Bucky’s easy acceptance of the project- how he had essentially signed you away to be with another man in public whilst he watched in private. You had only recently discussed the potentiality of going public with your relationship- the irony of the conversation involving the detail of it being as simple as a few high profile sightings, a bit of PDA here and there. 
Maybe he hadn’t been as comfortable as he had seemed, you pondered as you leant against the kitchen counter that night- alone in the large, dark room as you had been unable to sleep. Slipping away from Bucky’s arms had been an easy task as he had collapsed into bed after a particularly exhausting day of sparring with Sam and Steve as according to his usual training program. Whilst he had enjoyed time with his friends; entirely unaffected by this plan surrounding your image- the bomb had been dropped straight into your lap. 
“Doll, is that you?” A gruff voice sounded from the hallway, the sound of bare feet against tile sounded as Bucky entered the kitchen- dressed in only a white, threadbare shirt and chequered boxers. He frowned upon seeing you, lowering the hand that had been scrubbing his eye as he spotted something in your features, “Why are you out here so late?”
“Just thirsty,” you smiled shallowly, offering him your glass of water as he neared you; curling an arm around your waist and trailing figures of eight upon your back. 
“Come back to bed with me? I gotta’ get my Doll time in before I leave for that mission in the morning.” 
Nodding, you smiled- cuddling into the warmth of his chest. He had been assigned to the take down of a suspected hydra base out in Mexico, He’d be gone for a week at most. You suspected that was why he had so easily agreed to the contract- its duration was only for as long as popularity surrounding the matter prevailed; which would also be a week at the most. 
Before you could respond, he pulled you away from his chest; his head tilted as he furrowed his eyebrows at you, “You okay?” 
“Yeah, yeah. I’m-”
“Y/N, be honest with me.”
You crumpled, your teeth clinging to your lips as you stared up at his concerned features, “The project that PR made you sign for- do you …  do you really approve?”
Bucky shrugged, nodding as he rubbed at your shoulders, “Of course. It would be great to be seen out like that. The people love you Y/N. I mean, it could arguably be the perfect test run for revealing our relationship to the public, you know, see how they react to this and then we can continue from there.” 
You felt your stomach fall as he spoke- the remnants of betrayal shook you as the residual sense of understanding that was always directed towards Bucky attempted to outweigh it. Rational thought prevailed as you tried, begged, wished to understand exactly why he had approved of this. Bucky had previously leaned into the role of the stereotypical ‘protective boyfriend’- a constant hand on your back, ever-watchful eyes, stares across crowded rooms. This was entirely out of his character. “Really?” your voice was weak, almost betraying you to the reveal of your inner turmoil. 
Bucky smiled, rubbing at your back and leaning forward to place a kiss behind your ear, his lips tracing the sensitive skin there, “Of course.” He stared down at you, curling a metal finger around a loose strand of hair and moving to tuck it behind your ear, “let’s go to bed Doll, it’s late.” 
“Buck, can we talk about this again in the morning?”
“Sure.” Bucky shrugged, amusement combined with confusion graced his features as he led you back towards your shared bedroom- the dual shuffle of barefeet the only prevalent sound within the silent hallway. However, your mind spoke a different tune- insecurities and doubts swarming your mind like hawks to their prey. The usual warmth of Bucky felt cold, unfamiliar- everything felt wrong. 
But if Bucky trusted the judgement of something, you would always follow it compliantly.
-
The conversation never managed to take place the following morning, the pillow beside you was vacant by the time you woke up. Only a note detailing the early set off for the mission left in Bucky’s wake. The note, written in his familiar scrawl, detailed his love for you- you could only think about the way in which that same writing had signed you off to be seen on the arm of another man. Your morning consisted of moping, ignoring your scheduled appointments and moping some more. It was only when Friday presented you with a particularly urgent announcement that you were able to leave your reprieve. 
“Miss Y/N- Sophia has requested your presence in the meeting room to discuss your upcoming appearances.” You scoffed as you pulled on just about any pieces of somewhat matching clothing you could find- not too bothered about your look as you were staying only in the confines of Stark Tower. 
“Perfect!” Sophia squealed as you walked in; a blonde, muscular man stood beside her at the head of the meeting room- wearing casual clothing suspiciously similar to yours, “Y/N, it’s perfect- I didn’t even give you a dress code and you already knew!” 
Shaking your head, you entered the room; your features visibly failed to hide your confusion, “Sorry?” 
“Sorry, how rude of me!” Sophia turned towards the man beside her, stepping behind him and presenting him to you by the shoulders. The man gave you a sideways smirk; his mouth slightly lopsided due to the extent of his sharp jaw, “Y/N meet John Walker- your new boyfriend!” Clapping as she completed the sentence, Sophia was practically jumping on the spot as she grinned at the two of you. Just to appease her, you shook John’s hand- smiling somewhat-warmly at him.
“Sophia- he’s not my ‘new boyfriend’ we have gone over this- strictly professional.” 
“Of course, of course,” she rounded the table and lowered herself into a seat, opening a folder as the two of you sat at each seat beside her, “So, a couple of details for you both. You will begin with a simple coffee date, hence the casual clothing, stir up a little bit of talk and then a few dinners to follow. Now, to the best part, drumroll please!” Both you and John continued to stare at her, “Finally, to end the contract, you will attend the high profile Stark annual charity gala together.”
“Sorry, what?” You froze- the gala was held every year; an opportunity for Tony to flaunt his extravagant wealth under the guise of donating large sums of money to a number of causes. Most importantly, Bucky would be at this gala- the two were not supposed to cross. “Sophia, Bucky’s going to be at that gala, I can’t possibly-”
“Have you forgotten Y/N?” Her voice cold and sardonic, the sound of it grating and rendering you silent, “Mr Barnes approved of all of this.” 
Nodding, you frowned, lowering your guard as the harsh reminder struck you, “Of course, but- he couldn’t have possibly agreed to this, I mean, it’s been agreed that we were going to go together- why would he go back on that?” 
“I don’t know, Y/N,” Sophia shrugged her shoulders in mock confusion, appearing to be pondering on your question, “Maybe he just saw the benefits of this. There’s always other charity galas that you can attend later.” 
“Sure… of course.” 
“Thank you,” you watched as Sophia flipped the page of her folder, “If you feel like continuing this agreement past the gala we can- but, I see it as a great end point. Once all is done, we will simply release a statement adding it all up to rumours or just fate. Outlets will be having the time of their lives over the next week. Me and my team will give a few strategically placed source reviews throughout the period- give the story at least a bit of credibility and all,” Sophia stood suddenly then, her curls shaking at the momentum, “I was thinking we could begin now?”
Defeated, you agreed without fight; finding yourself being escorted to the ground floor with John following simple instructions- get coffee and look like you’re having fun. It wasn’t the most difficult task- you enjoyed a cup of coffee and John was a fairly nice guy. 
“Hey, don’t worry about this too much- I got a girl back home myself.”
“Really?” You smiled, pleased that your pain wasn’t entirely one-sided, “So- did she agree easily too or-”
John laughed then, a smirk forming as his teeth glinted in the New York sunlight; he carried an ever-present feeling of arrogance within himself, “God, no. She kicked up a fight- it was only when they offered us the money that we agreed to this.”
Pausing, you plastered a fake smile and laughed heartily as you sensed the presence of a phone camera flashing behind you- you had been spotted. “Sorry, John, what money?” You grabbed his arm as you spoke, framing the image of the average, romantic-fueled coffee date. 
“You don’t-” he turned away from the camera, looking you sincerely in the eye, “You don’t know? You shook your head, “Oh- well, I wasn’t too convinced by the whole fame thing, no offence, so I only agreed to do this if they paid me.” 
Continuing your pretence, you just smiled- stroking his arm in order to appease the cameras as well as ease the swirling in your gut- had Bucky really so easily agreed to have you pawned off, simply to appease the opinion of the public? Bucky had never cared for them- not once throughout your time together had he cared about the whispers and the glares and the threats- he had ignored them, steering you away from the bustle of New York and opted to take you into the quieter streets of Brooklyn where he had grown up. The rare diners and stores that had survived since his childhood long ago had become your second home- mid-morning breakfasts and late night, nightmare-fueled outings alike. Luckily, your PR outing had not taken place in those same spots; it would’ve tarnished your relationship with those memories. Laughter and love replaced by fabricated and stilted conversation with a man you had only met that morning. Those days with Bucky had been between the two of you, nothing would ever replicate that. As you stood in the streets of New York, your hand on the arm of an unfamiliar man and the flashes of cameras whirring around you- you realised that whatever reason Bucky had, whatever had convinced him to accept this, you would wholeheartedly understand. 
The story was on the front page within a number of hours, a large picture of you plastering on that fake laugh as you stroked John’s arm was relayed across the paper’s online forum- the article as sensationalised and pretentious as it could be. 
NEW COUPLE ALERT
Everyone’s favourite Avenger, Y/N L/N, was spotted on the cutest coffee date in New York today, with our favourite military hero John Walker, no less! For those who are unaware of this wonderful hunk of a man, he is the first to gain three medals of honour; everyone commend him for his bravery in defending our country! Sources close to the couple confirm that this relationship is new though it has been building up for a long time with the two deciding to go public this very morning. We congratulate the couple and wish them the best. 
There was no going back from this, the documentation of your supposed ‘date’ was now public- part of you hoped that Bucky would see it, feel some twinge of jealousy, regret, whatever emotions came with signing you up so willingly for something like this. Though the other part of you, the part that loved him wholeheartedly; hoped that he wouldn’t see it, hoped that this was all some big misunderstanding that could be left behind; a stupid mistake of the past. 
As you stared down at the article, thumbing the screen as you stared down at the photo of yourself in the streets of New York- smile wide, eyes bright, that hand clasped around his arm- a myriad of heels sounded down the hallway. 
“Y/N? Are you here?” it was Wanda, you had no doubt that Vision would be following close behind; ready to give some annoyingly insightful advice pulled from some dark corner of a forum. Beckoning her inside, you watched as she entered the room; her face held a number of emotions: stricken, confused, angry. Her left hand held her phone- the article open on your very own could be seen in glimpses as she began to wave her arms frantically. “What- what is going on Y/N? Do you need us to get rid of this? Vision can wipe it from the internet in a matter of seconds- yep- I’ll get him to track down all traces of this photo and remove it. I mean, the audacity of the public to even post things like this; Nat had a similar thing with her assistant and we got rid of that one don’t you-”
“It’s real, Wanda.”
Screeches could practically be heard as Wanda halted in her tracks, behind her Vision too paused suddenly; seemingly phasing back to reality as he halted the tracking within his database. “What do you mean? ‘It’s real’?”
“It’s not a fake, that was this morning.” Your voice was defeated, eyes casted downwards as you refused to meet the eyes of your friend. 
“Y/N is correct,” Vision spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he turned to nod at Wanda, “The photo is real.” 
“Y/N …” Wanda spoke slowly, her eyes swarming with confusion as she looked between the two of you, “What? I thought- what about Bucky?”
“It’s a scheme set up by the PR department to ‘improve our image’,” you acted out finger quotes sarcastically, “be seen with a nice guy on a few outings and the public opinion of the Avengers soars.” 
“How-” Wanda was angry now, her hands clenching as she moved to sit beside you, a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Why would you agree to this, Y/N?” 
“It sounded like it would be beneficial, you know, I love helping people and if this is what’s necessary then I’m willing- it’s all strictly professional and Bucky knows-”
“Bucky consented to this?!”
“Mr Barnes did,” Vision spoke, moving to console Wanda with a hand on her back as she began to seethe, “His signature was activated within the database in regards to this contract. It’s all real.” 
“Y/N, something isn’t right here,” Wanda’s fists were clenching, her chest stuttering as she stared at you- worry ever-prevalent within her eyes as she watched you, “Bucky would never agree to something like that, I mean- do you remember when you were taken on that mission in monaco? You were gone for three days and the entire time he was inconsolable; stopping at nothing to get you back. There’s no way that same man would agree to something like this for you.” 
You could only stare back at her, your lips twisting and stomach clenching as you smiled uneasily, “Well, it’s all been agreed to now. No going back.”
“Okay, well promise me you’ll be careful? God knows the type of people Tony hired for this place.” 
You laughed, smiling and nodding at Wanda as you vowed to take care, “Wait- one last thing,” Wanda stopped at the door, the ends of her cardigan twirling as she turned to face you, “I have a dinner set tomorrow night- help me pick an outfit?”
-
The following day passed all too quickly- the picture had taken the internet by storm; thousands of trending posts, tags and conversations were now revolving around you. People were obsessed at the slightest semblance of a stereotypical romance; the slightest touch, the loving glances, the feeling of believing like you’re the only people to exist in a room. It was funny, really, the fact that what these people wished to be true was just present within the form of a different man. You hadn’t heard from Bucky since his departure, since the release of the picture- it was no different to a usual mission, he would be occupied and undercover, unable to respond to anyone’s messages let alone your own. Though, the feeling still stung- you craved for something- anger, resentment even the slightest show of concern. It almost seemed like he didn’t care.
You thought over this as you sat perched on your bed, watching as Wanda practically tore through your bedroom, waiting to be bustled into the bathroom once again with a handful of clothes. 
“I know it’s not real- but if you have hundreds of cameras on you, you need to at least look your best. We can’t have you prancing around anyone’s feed not looking your best.” She threw yet another dress onto the floor behind her, “You never know, Bucky might even see a picture and realise what he’s missing out on.” 
You snorted, “Sure, Mhm- he’ll definitely be taking time out of his highly confidential mission to send me a message about a picture of me on social media- something that happens every single day.” 
You were wrong, so wrong. 
You had been sitting, legs poised and a smile prominent on your face- the ideal image of a romantic dinner date present to the cameras flashing outside. Your chin had been placed on your palm- the image of a doting date listening intently to the fascinating words of the man before them; when your phone began to buzz incessantly. 
“I’m so sorry John,” he waved you off, giving you permission to escape to the bathroom to check your phone. Your departure had been strategic: an innocent smile, a flick of the hair and a beeline straight to the bathroom. You had no doubt that the cameras had captured each moment perfectly- ready to coin the escape up to a different, highly-dramatic story. Your heart stuttered as you looked down at the phone screen upon entering the safety of the bathroom stall, “Buck” glared back at you- the ringing continued almost as soon as it had stopped. As if he was clicking the button over and over again, waiting for you to answer. Swearing, you moved to click the accept button- fear causing your legs to shake and teeth to chatter as you wondered why he was calling so obsessively- had something gone wrong on the mission? However, just as you were about to hit accept, a bustle of girls entered the bathroom- each one talking excitedly about how they had seen your date, witnessed the new budding relationship for themselves. 
Your finger instead took a different route, moving to decline the call. Bucky’s calls stopped, obviously halted by the confirmation that you were unable to speak through the tune of the calls rejection. The silence allowed you to turn to your voicemails- selecting one of many that Bucky had sent you since his tirade of calls began. 
“Please Doll, I am begging you, please pick up. I’m sitting here in some dead-end bar and suddenly I’m seeing your face on the TV with some… military hunk, what is going on? Darling, seriously, are you okay? I can come home immediately and we can talk this over please just pick up and tell me-” 
“It’s me again, Doll, what did I do? Did I do something to upset you? I’m so so sorry that I left so abruptly I just didn’t want to wake you- I’ll be back within the next two days, please just tell me what’s going on. The last time I saw you, you were completely fine. Please just answer me.”
Lowering the phone, you stared blankly at the door of the cubicle before you; the endless chatter of the girls beginning to die down as they exited the bathroom. Why did Bucky sound so confused? Rubbing at your forehead, you scrunched your hands over your face- entirely confused as to what was going on. Bucky had willingly signed you away to hang off of the arm of John- he did not get to fuss and act confused now that it was actually happening. He had scanned that fingerprint and signed off your fate. 
With a wave of rage rushing your way, tongue in cheek, you tapped over to the messenger app before selecting Bucky’s contact. 
You: This is entirely your own doing. You turned off the phone before a reply could be received, shoving it to the bottom of your handbag and straightening out your clothes, before returning to your date and the ever watchful eyes of the public. John grinned at you as you returned, raising his drink as you sat back in your seat. 
“I say we keep this going for another twenty minutes or so,” He spoke in a low tone, his finger trailing a drop of condensation running the length of his glass, “I’m assuming that was your man blowing up the phone, my girl is doing the same to me.” Smiling shallowly, you nodded- the fact that the only relative similarity between the two of you was the fact that neither of you wanted to be there was laughable- the background behind Sophia’s opinion that the two of you would be the perfect match was entirely a mystery. 
“Well, we at least need to give them something to obsess over as we leave.” You smirked, masking it with a sip from your own glass- the volume of flashes had increased significantly since your return from the bathroom. 
“Like?”
“Just follow my lead.”
Upon your joint departure, you took John’s hand in your own; your grip loose in respect for him but clasped enough to seem genuine. You plastered on a grin, seemingly mid-laugh as you were escorted from the restaurant and into the barrage of cameras- the flashing immediately increased in your appearance; a cacophony of shouts and questions immediately sounding behind them. The signature camera for a popular news network sat only a few paces from you; you wondered if this moment would be aired directly to the television Bucky had been watching only minutes ago. Just as you were about to climb into your respective car, you turned and planted a chaste but firm kiss to John’s cheek; causing the crowd to practically go wild- frantic and erratic with the physical confirmation of the public relationship of an Avenger. 
As the car door closed, your smile dropped instantly; the facade wearing away instantly in the solitude of blackout windows. Sighing, you turned to Sophia who sat waiting in the seat ahead of you; practically grinning from ear-to-ear. 
“I mean, I knew this was going to be a success- but this is insane.” Her phone lay active in her hand, as if she’d been dealing with a constant influx of phone calls, just as you had. “You should congratulate yourself, Y/N, you are amazing.”
“I guess being in an actual relationship helps, knowing what to do and all,” you glared at her in the central mirror, kicking off your heels and rubbing at the ridiculous lipstick you wore, “Which has been pretty much tarnished due to this little project of yours, thanks a lot.” 
Sophia shrugged, continuing to smile owlishly at you; frenzied excitement in her eyes, “Well- I was actually thinking that we could continue-”
“No.”
“Why not?!”
“Why- are you serious? Let alone my own relationship, John is in one too. This needs to end, you’ve got your ratings and you’ve got your money, that was the whole purpose of this.”
Sophia could only grit her teeth, opting to stew in silence at your rejection; her greed prevalent in her lack of response. Just as the car drew close to the entrance of the compound, Sophia gasped; the sound sudden and jolting. 
“What?” You snapped upon composing yourself, watching as she turned her phone screen towards you. A newly posted news article was displayed before you. 
A Love Triangle Arises? 
Onlookers from Mexico report the LIVE reaction of James Barnes, formally the infamous Winter Soldier, regarding the situation with Y/N L/N’s new relationship. Attached is Barnes’ live reaction as he is seen to destroy a television, stated to have displayed our latest obsession- the kiss shared between Y/N and her new love, John Walker. Insiders to the Avengers have previously corroborated rumours detailing a supposed relationship between Barnes and L/N- though with recent news, we thought that it was entirely untrue. Is there some unspoken tension left behind between Y/N and James? Which couple do you prefer? 
“Show me the video of me and John.” You ordered, watching as Sophia frantically switched tabs and pulled up the video. Despite only kissing John on the cheek, the video had been tailored to be from an angle that suggested otherwise; the car door disguising the two of you as your movement suggested that a kiss had been shared. “No, no, no.” You chanted, clicking back over to the article regarding Bucky and selecting the attached video. The video was blurry, possibly filmed by the bartender as they cowered behind the bar, watching as Bucky tore the screen from its hinges and tore it apart with his metal arm- his face red with anguish and eyes watery with distress. 
“What is going on Sophia?” You turned to her as she began to exit the car, pausing in place, “You said that he agreed to all of this- why- why is he blowing up my phone and seeming so distressed about it all? I don’t understand.” Sophia gave no reply, instead disappearing into the late night darkness of the tower despite your calls. Before you could make chase, Steve entered the garage- a concerned crease to his brow, a hand instantly met your shoulder as he reached you. 
“Y/N are you okay?” He stared down at you, his gaze urgent but sincere, “I’ve had Buck blowing up my phone all night and then I’ve seen all of these news articles- What is going on?” 
The comforting timbre to his voice made you crack, collapsing into his arms instantly as you sobbed- the tirade of emotions you had felt over the previous days finally reaching a head as you were faced with the sincerity of Captain America. His arms wrapped around you protectively as you shook into his arms, blubbering and sobbing about the whole situation. How it had gone too far, how you didn’t know what to do, how you wanted to make it stop. 
“Y/N, I think Wanda was right,” Steve nodded, rubbing your back and turning to lead you into a more comfortable space, “Something about this doesn’t seem right, I mean, I can’t even exaggerate when I say that Bucky’s been blowing up my phone all night- he was crying his heart out Y/N, begging me to find out what is going on with you. I’ve not heard him like that since Monaco.” 
“Then … why was his signature in the contract- he allowed all of this.”
“I can’t say exactly what’s happened but, I don’t think he was as willing as it seems.”
“His signature was there, Steve. Bold and Real.”
“I know, I know.” Steve sighed, stroking his chin with his hand as he stood before you, “This just isn’t Buck, Y/N. I know you’re feeling betrayed right now but I know you know this- something isn’t right.” 
Nodding, you considered the doubts that had lingered since the beginning- the questions, the worries. You trusted Bucky wholeheartedly- that aforementioned part of you that loved Bucky wholeheartedly had known that something, somewhere was amiss. “I just have to get through this charity gala,” you nodded, fidgeting with the hem of your dress; a skimpy thing Wanda had picked out for you, “I signed a contract- I have to do it. Then I will speak to Bucky.”
“He’ll be back by then. Get through that and then talk to him, as soon as you can.”
-
The following days leading up to the gala were spent back in your previous reprieve- waiting, waiting, waiting for the gala; waiting for Bucky to return. Every fibre of your soul yearned for him, missed him. Craved the touch of his calloused hands and the scent that could apply only to him found at the base of his neck. You missed his private smiles and his soft eyes- the way he makes you feel when his thumb draws constellations onto the blush of your cheeks or the nape of your neck. You missed his anger, his sadness, his happiness and his love. You missed his everything. 
No fake relationship could ever replicate that feeling. 
“Y/N, please stand still.” Sophia snapped on the night of the gala, stylists bustled around you as they fidgeted with your hair and tightened the ties of your dress. Steve had surveyed at the side of the room, his dressing being immediately before yours, smirking as his own had only taken mere minutes. 
“I wish you ladies would fuss this much over me,” Steve smirked from the side of the room, very obviously bored out of his mind and ready for the night to end already. 
“You don’t need it Captain,” one of the stylists giggled, to which you scoffed- much to Steve’s amusement. Once you were ready, and finally left to stand upright on your own, Steve led you towards the entrance of the gala- where you were due to meet John. 
“Please just talk to him, Y/N,” Steve smiled sadly as you fixed his tie, waiting for John’s arrival, “He’s going crazy- calling and texting me constantly. An old man like me can’t deal with all this.” 
You laughed at that, slapping Steve on the chest as he was ever-endearing, “I will, don’t worry,” your expression turned sombre as you turned to survey the growing crowd, wondering if Bucky had arrived yet. As you scanned the crowd, John entered your eye line; the usual smirk plastered on his face complimented by a deep blue suit; matching your gown perfectly. But, he wasn’t Bucky. He would never be Bucky. You had to keep this facade up for just a few more hours before you could collapse into Bucky’s arms, resolve everything, go back to how things had been before his departure. Before pen graced paper and your signatures came into existence on that ridiculous contract. 
Offering you an arm, John led you towards the main hall; it felt like all eyes turned to you when you entered- the fresh, new, heartthrob ‘couple’. Mere acquaintances of the Avengers attempted to snidely snap a photo of the two of you and others, with a tad more respect to their name, simply eyed the two of you; humming to each other about how the tabloids had been correct. You spotted Wanda and Vision through the swarms of onlookers before you, dragging John by the arm towards them. 
Wanda squealed at the sight of you, her face scrunching and copper curls bobbing in excitement, “You look beautiful, oh Vision doesn’t she look beautiful!”
“Thank you, you look beautiful too Wanda,” You beckoned her into a hug, squeezing your closest friend tight as the two of you rocked together, “Last night of this mess.” You whispered, snickering gleefully. 
Wanda pulled back, looking left and right before speaking, “Have you seen him?”
Shaking your head no, you gave her a sad smile, “Have you?”
“No. But … I have seen Sam, who was on the mission with him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s sulking in a corner somewhere around here.” 
Vision piped up from beside Wanda, “That is correct, Mr Barnes was spotted on security cameras just seconds ago. I can direct you to his whereabouts?”
“No, no,” You waved your hands in the air frantically, shaking your head to the same tune, “I need to finish this off first,” You gestured to John, who had been lingering on the sidelines throughout the conversation, “Put this whole thing out of its misery.” 
John stepped forward then, curling a hand around your shoulder- as careless and loose as ever, “I was hoping we could finish this off soon actually, promised the Mrs I’d be home within the hour,” He stepped back and offered you a hand, “Care for a quick dance?”
Shrugging, you accepted his hand; for once grinning at him sincerely. This dance would finally mark the end of your wretched assignment, “One dance won’t hurt anyone.”
The two of you laughed as he twirled you around the dance floor- so overjoyed at the semblance of freedom from each other; soon to no longer be tied down by the ropes and binds of your arrangement. A particular spin left you winded; clutching your chest and snorting out a laugh as you recovered. 
And that’s when your eyes landed on him. 
Bucky stood leaning against the bar, nursing a glass of something dark, something heavy. A drink that could infiltrate even the speed of his super soldier blood. His stubble was prominent and the dark bruises marring his eyes only accentuated that. Clenched fists could be seen exiting the sleeves of his black suit- simple, sleek, neat. Obscenely attractive. Steve stood beside him, probably attempting to keep up a somewhat coherent conversation, distracting him from what he was looking at. 
You realised that his gaze had not once left you. His eyes were dark, heady, angry- his irises almost black with the obvious rage that existed within him at the sight of you with John. Grip harsh, jaw tight, breaths leaving his chest shuffled and hitched. He was furious. 
The second realisation that you came to, was that something was seriously wrong. 
“Y/N, Y/N? Are you okay?” John questioned beside you, stealing your gaze away from Bucky’s- his gaze seeming genuinely concerned at your sudden shift in demeanour. 
“I- Um-” You stuttered, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest as you gripped his shoulders urgently, the pulse hammering in your throat like a sounding siren, “We need to end this now John, you can go. Please go.” The urgency in your eyes seemingly sent the message well enough; the threat of the former Winter Soldier all too present within his mind. Watching John’s hasty retreat, you prepared yourself to turn- to make eye contact with Bucky again. To see those dark, hooded eyes. To force yourself not to run straight into his arms. 
Not appropriate right now. 
Slowly, you turned your head- making direct eye contact with Bucky once again. His eyes were downturned- insistent, obsessive, begging you to provide him with some clarity. He stood stoically in place as you advanced towards him, staring determinedly at your figure and only offering Steve a grunt as he granted him a goodbye, giving up on the one-sided conversation and nodding to you as he departed, his eyes saying ‘good luck’. Keeping your chin high, you stopped beside Bucky- ordering yourself a drink at the bar and simply turning to stare at him once you were done. He stared forward resolutely, though the constant flare of his nostrils gave him away entirely. 
Upon the arrival of your drink, you drank a considerable amount before turning to him, liquid courage and all, “What the hell is goin’ on Buck?” 
“I could ask you the same thing, Doll,” Bucky ground his teeth, the ministrations dancing within his jaw as he still refused to meet your gaze, “I go away on a mission and the next thing I know I’m seeing you gallivanting around New York on the arm of another man.” He took a long drought from his glass, finishing the drink and slamming it down onto the counter behind him, “Nobody will tell me what is happening and now one moment I’m watching you have the time of your life on the dancefloor and the next you come to me once your little boy-toy has scurried away.” 
“Bucky. Seriously? You signed the contract to allow-”
“See, this is what everyone is telling me,” Bucky turned to face you then, his mouth curling downwards and his eyes filled with anguish, “But no one is able to tell me what it is exactly that I signed- when did I sign on to this Y/N?” 
“Are you kidding me?” Your tone heavy with the weight of anger and betrayal as you spat the words, Bucky’s mask of anger faltering slightly as he heard your voice, “Your signature was there- bold and animated- on that contract, Bucky.” You shook your head, mouth drooping as you spoke, sadness now present within your features, “You signed me away Bucky, you did this to me.” 
“Please, Doll.” Bucky was begging now, his eyes curved and teary as he clasped your shoulders, “Please tell me what you are talking because I seriously have no idea.” 
“How-” You suddenly realised that a number of inquisitive eyes had turned towards the two of you, Bucky’s hands on your shoulders- your own in mid-air reaching towards his. “We can’t do this here Buck.” At that, you dragged him from the room; the two of you entered the hallway in silence before making a number of twists and turns- ensuring shelter from the public’s ever watchful eyes. “How do you not know Buck- like I said your signature was there.” Your voice was quieter, calmer, more meagre now as you practically pleaded with the man before you. 
He was pleading right back, his metal hand moving to cup your cheek- the warmth of its plates familiar and a comforting presence. “Okay, Doll- let’s start from the beginning, untangle all of this mess. I signed a contact last week which would agree that we’d be seen together at the gala. You know, I- I’ve been feeling like I’m ready to go public with you and I was told that it wouldn’t be much, just a dance and a few photo opportunities. I don’t- I understand if that upset you, I’m sorry if I was too eager and I … completely understand why you’ve decided to do this I just, I wish you could’ve done it to my face? Why did you leave me to find out like-” 
Bucky’s speech was stopped by your instant attack as you pressed your lips to his, your hands gripping his stubbled cheeks like a lifeline as you pressed kiss after kiss to his mouth, attempting to drown in his taste as you sobbed against him, “I’m so sorry.” You chanted continuously as you kissed, pressing yourself as close to him as possible, “This isn’t your fault, you did nothing wrong, Buck.” Your words were halted by erratic sobs as your scenario finally reached a state of clarity, he reached to wipe the tears from your cheeks instantly; the pads of his fingers picking up the broken shards and piecing them back together perfectly, back where they belonged. 
“I don’t under-”
“No, no Bucky. It’s okay.” You pulled away from him, shaking your head and breathing, grinning at him widely, “I- god this is ridiculous, I swear I am going to destroy her. I- well, PR told me that you had signed a contract agreeing for me to engage in a fake public relationship, I mean I saw your signature and instantly assumed the worst of you, I am so sorry Bucky- and I just went along with it because I trust you and what you said in the kitchen only supported that. But then everything happened and I was just so so confused about it all and you weren’t here and I just wanted to see you again-” 
Bucky halted your tirade then, placing his own mouth against yours as you resumed your previous feverish kissing; clinging onto him as he intertwined his fingers into the long curls of your hair, the straps of your dress, the span of your hips. Eventually, he pulled back, wholly gripping his face in yours as his toothy grin glistened down at you- his face the perfect display of relief and adoration. “It’s okay,” he smiled, nodding as his eyes remained teary, your own face a mirror image of his, “We’re going to be okay.” He stroked your hair and placed a kiss to your forehead, rocking you and shushing you tentatively as you continued to cry into the comfort of his chest. “Let’s get you into bed and out of this gorgeous dress, yeah?” He mumbled, toying with the straps of your dress as he stared adoringly down at you, “I’ve not had my Doll-time in forever.” 
Giggling, you slapped him on the chest, clasping his offered hand and allowing him to lead you down the hallway- towards the comfort of tousled sheets and intertwined legs; secret touches in the darkness of night and the relief that would settle between you as the string was no longer pulled taut.
Part 2- ‘Public Display’ 
2K notes · View notes
kamiversee · 9 months ago
Text
➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
✧.* CHAPTER 21 || The After Hours
Tumblr media
[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, a tinge of angst, and sexual tension.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.1k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
Tumblr media
——"I DON'T UNDERSTAND," YOU murmured to the albino man whose arms you're comfortably carried in.
What the hell does he mean by when you call he comes running? You didn't call him... right? Wait, fuck, you don't even remember. Was it really Geto's voice you heard over the phone?
Gojo slowly walks with you in his grasp toward his car, "You called me... Well, I know you probably meant to call Suguru but uh, you called me, sweetheart." He explains.
A pouty expression takes over your features as you grumble out a response to him, "Why didn't you... s-say anything, asshole."
He shrugs, "Cause' Suguru's asleep and I didn't want his half-woken brain to come out here and get you, who's completely wasted. So, it's a good thing you accidentally called me anyway. Plus, I missed-," He stops as he looks at your face.
Your eyes closed and you'd fallen asleep again. Gojo opens his mouth to finish what he is saying but instead sighs and focuses his gaze on where he's walking.
Carefully, the male works his passenger car door open and places you inside. Gojo is overly cautious while he seats you comfortably. Your head had leaned into a visibly unbearable position and he had to be light with his touches to fix you properly.
The pads of his fingers are soft against your face and he's gentle with the way he handles your head. When he's done making sure you don't look uncomfortable and finishes buckling you in, his eyes pause on your pretty resting features.
Even though the beauty Gojo sees in your face, he can't help but notice the dried tear streaks running down your cheeks. He wonders when you cried and why. Was it because of him? Again? The thought alone makes his heart ache.
Gojo shuts his eyes and leans his forehead to yours, resting against you lightly, "I'm sorry..." He whispers to you, despite the fact that you're asleep.
After another second, Gojo removes himself from your space and shuts his car door softly. He then makes it into the driver's seat and he's quick to start his car and drive off.
The ride is slow and Gojo tries to make it as smooth as possible so that he doesn't wake you up. There were a few times when you moved and let out a little groan, each time prompting a concerned gaze from the man in the diver's seat.
Each minute that passes, Gojo spends it thinking about what you told him over the phone. He hates to see you struggling like this, wishing he could go back and maybe do something different but knowing the outcome would've been bad either way.
By the time he gets to your apartment, it's even later into the night and Gojo spends the entire time with you being as careful as possible. He knows you didn't want to see him but he needed to make sure you got home safely.
So, the man carried you all the way to your apartment door and even let himself inside. You found this out a while ago when you went through your messages but apparently, Shoko gave Gojo a spare key to the apartment.
You thought it was weird of your roommate to do so without talking to you about it but she eventually explained to you that she's asked Gojo to go to your apartment more times than she can count and it was frustrating giving him her keys every time.
That, and she secretly felt like him having access to the apartment would help the two of you get together. Of course, Shoko is still ignorant of what's going on between you and Gojo but neither of you has plans on changing that.
After all, her giving him spare keys is beneficial to you in a situation like this.
Gojo moves into your apartment with you in his arms, his footsteps quiet. When he entered, everything was dark and he noticed Shoko's room door was closed. He figured she was asleep since the space beneath her room door showed no signs of lighting and plus, it was pretty late.
You shift around in Gojo's arms while he carries you into your room. The male carefully placed you down on your bed and he wanted to make sure you were comfortable in your sleep but was nervous to do so.
Gojo drags his gaze up and down the obvious discomfort the dress you're wearing brings you and he so desperately wants to change you. With a sigh, he glances around your room, searching for a t-shirt he can toss over you but spotting none.
The man knows you probably won't like it but, he stands up and strips his upper half, removing the white sweater he was wearing and moving to put it onto your body, leaving him in a simple t-shirt he had underneath.
The sweater went over your dress after which, Gojo felt around your back, careful not to touch you directly, and unzipped your dress. He didn't want to lay eyes on your body while you were asleep so, the male worked your dress off you and down your legs with his sweater blocking his eyesight from seeing anything.
On you, his sweater went down to the beginning of your thighs, looking like a dress in itself on your smaller frame. Gojo had long since worked your heels off, having neatly placed them somewhere in your room and now he was trying to tuck you into your bed.
After that, he left your room for only a moment to grab medicine for the painful hangover he knows you're going to have when you wake up. Returning to you swiftly, he puts all the necessary items on your nightstand and sighs.
Soft snores left you, prompting his eyes to fall on your face for the millionth time that night. Gojo tilts his head as he looks at your face, taking in all of your features. He missed having the mere luxury of just looking at you.
You're so beautiful in his eyes that just staring at you makes him loathe himself for the terrible shit he's putting you through.
When the long moment of appreciation comes to an end, Gojo caresses the side of your face with the back of his hand as if to say bye, before leaning up and turning away.
What he doesn't expect is for a delicate set of fingers to wrap around his wrist and stop him from going anywhere. Before he can even turn around to look at you, you whisper out a sleepy and still drunken, "S-Stay."
All it takes is that one word of yours for the male to stop every movement. Hell, he thinks he stops breathing for a second. Turning his face around to look at you, he spots your eyes just barely open and your hand holding him.
Gojo swallows, "Sweets, as much as I want to... you don't really-"
"Satoru," You whisper.
The way you say his name so suddenly after not referring to him as such for what felt like an eternity makes his heart throb violently in his chest. Gojo's whole facial expression weakens, his body and mind completely incapacitated under the sound of your voice and the feeling of your touch.
Your eyes flick up to him and he can tell that you're clearly drunk.
"Y-Yes?" Gojo whispers back.
"Stay." You command.
He feels so utterly helpless under your gaze. What is he supposed to say when you look at him so longingly? Holding onto his wrist in a way that makes him feel like if he leaves, he'll only leave you sadder.
He glances off to the side, "You're just gonna be upset when you sober up. I can't-"
"Toru please." You murmur, suddenly frowning, "I... d-don't wanna be alone."
Gojo's eyes shut and he grits his teeth, "Fucking hell... O-Okay, fuck, fine w-whatever you want." He stammers out, physically unable to deny your requests. "Just... don't curse me out when you're sober, please."
You let his wrist go and smiled cheekily, "No promisessss."
Gojo walks around to the other side of your bed and slowly lays down beside you. Even drunk, you could tell he was nervous doing so-- he already knew what was going to happen when your drunken state faded away. At first, the man lays down as far as possible, making you flip your body around to face him.
He clears his throat, "Is this okay?"
The guy was on the other side of your bed, clearly trying to keep his distance. You giggle, "No, stupid... Come hold me," You whisper.
"H-Hold you?" Gojo chokes out.
You sigh heavily, "At least until-," You yawn, "...I fall back asleep. T-Then you can leave, if you want."
With a slight nod, Gojo just barely slides closer to you. One of his large arms goes over your side and you immediately reciprocate, making his heart skip a beat at the way your small hand is felt on his back. The two of you were basically hugging each other and the state of his heart worsens as you snuggle in closer to him.
"C'mon, this is unfair..." Gojo sighs heavily.
You continue hugging him anyway, comforting your head into his chest. "I know," You whisper in response.
The two of you then get quiet for a while. Your breathing gets softer and softer against his chest and every brush of air against his skin makes it harder for him to calm his rapidly beating heart. It's been so long since you'd been close to him like this that he doesn't know how to handle it.
Gojo feels almost dizzy by your warm body against his. It's not turning him on or anything but his heart feels so odd in his chest.
Suddenly, your head shifts and you look up a him, "Gojo..." You whisper.
And he misses the way you say his first name already, "Hm?"
"You're so cruel to me." You babble out. Not only was your intoxication beginning to take over your mind, but fatigue was weighing in on you as well.
He sighs shakily, "Am I?"
"Very..." You start pouting, "He made me really happy, y'know..."
Gojo blinks in confusion.
"Choso," You clarify. Gloss begins to lay over your eyes and you quickly grow saddened, "...He won't even talk to me now."
"Did you... tell him about the list or something?"
"No, idiot." You fire back. "He wanted to date me but... I o-obviously couldn't say yes because of you."
Guilt thrums throughout Gojo's body, "I'm sorry." He apologizes sincerely.
You sigh heavily, "Y'know... if you were really sorry, you'd delete that video of me and let me go..."
"I can't." Gojo replies, squeezing his eyes shut, "I really can't."
"Why?" You question, scoffing slightly, "After all this time, can you at least tell me why it has to be me?"
He silences himself in thought. There are so many ways he could go about answering such a question but the possibilities of how you may react are endless. Plus, you're drunk and if he's going to admit or explain anything to you, it'll be while you're sober.
"Because..." Gojo's voice gets so quiet that you almost don't catch what he says, "...I don't have any other choice."
What does he mean by that? You have no idea. It's just another one of Gojo's stupid explanations that make no sense whatsoever, leading you to only be annoyed with him for the nth time since you've known him. You're negative emotions for this male run deeper than anything else.
Even so, there's this underlying emotion you feel when he talks to you or looks at you. And you absolutely despise the way it affects you because the man simply plagues your heart, vexing you with his toxic and fucked up realities of how he wants things to go.
You find yourself lulled into it all nonetheless. Whether it be by choice or not, something about Gojo just draws you to him in so many ways.
You hate the way he looks at you as if your very existence is what he still breathes for. The way he talks to you like each second without your presence is steadily crushing his will to live. How he holds you so gently yet firmly as if he dreads the instant he has to let you go.
And more than anything, you hate the combination of all that being tied to his stupidly handsome face that makes you nervous at every second, even though you try to hide it. Then there are the memories of the very few good times you spent with him.
Somewhere deep, deep, deep down inside-- you'd give anything to go back to that morning you woke up in his arms.
Gojo Satoru may be no Kamo Choso but even so, both men hold some deep and special, whether it be good or bad, place in your heart.
You shake your head in disbelief, "...I hate you."
Gojo swallows down your words, "That uh... That makes four."
"What?" You scoff confusedly.
"That's the fourth time you've said those words to me-- the fourth time you've claimed to hate me." Gojo points out, his voice so clearly sorrowful, "I wish you didn't..."
Your brows bush together, "...Wish I didn't say it or...?"
"No, I wish you didn't have to hate me." He says, shutting his eyes again and sucking in a deep breath, "B-But... it's uh, It's okay. I can live with you hating me."
You roll your eyes and open your mouth to say something but he cuts you off unintentionally by continuing.
"It's odd though," Gojo whispers, his fingers toying with the back of the sweater you're wearing. "Why would you want to be in my arms if you hate me so much?"
You groan, "Cause'...." The reasoning takes a second to come out, almost as if you didn't want to admit such a thing out loud, "I don't... I don't wanna be alone." You murmur, your voice wavering a little before your grasp on him grows tighter.
Gojo's heart is pounding so ridiculously hard against his chest when he feels you cling to him so desperately. It took control of every muscle and vein in his body not to squeeze you back just as hard to let you know that he'd never leave unless you told him to.
A soft, heart-wrenching little chuckle leaves his lips, "Me neither, sweetheart."
For a second time, silence wraps around the two of you. The only noise in the air now was the sound of you both breathing faintly. You don't know why but, even though you hate him, you couldn't deny the deep sense of comfort and understanding you felt within his arms.
Your heart was heavy in your chest, feelings for Choso having a dangerous steel grip on you. If you were to complete this list; you needed to put your feelings for that man aside. Only temporarily though. By all means, no matter what it took, you'd be running back to Choso the very second you were freed to do so.
Unconsciousness creeps up on you and unexpectedly wraps your mind up in a warm little blanket, swaying you into relaxation and tugging you into a state of slumber. Meanwhile, Gojo lay awake, unable to fall asleep with the ounces of guilt, regret, and disappointment in himself that cascaded over him.
Though it took a while, he waited until it seemed like you were asleep and then tried to ease his way out. Sadly, through your sleep, you only clung onto his body more-- silently begging him not to go anywhere.
With a sigh, he ends up staying.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
A few hours later, you wake up because of a pounding headache. It was still dark and your eyes just barely opened to gather your surroundings. Finally, you were sober.
Your mind was all groggy and you couldn't remember much after Gojo came and picked you up. It was in fragments and pieces that you recalled talking to him in your sleep and begging him to stay with you.
Yet, when you woke up and opened your eyes, you were met with the dim sight of your bedroom door closed and no feeling of warmth or body heat around you. It annoyed you that Gojo left even though you told him to stay.
Being alone was the one thing you wanted to avoid.
Even hours after your intoxication had worn off, the worst part about it was that as you propped your side up using your elbow and reached for the meds on your nightstand, a wave of arousal abruptly coursed through you. Perhaps it was because of your interactions with Naoya's piss-poor skills at pleasing you-- having left you unsatisfied all this time.
While you swallowed down a pill to kill your headache, you planned on possibly going to lock your door and just rub it out. You hate waking up horny like this and the headache doesn't help either. If only Naoya had known how to use his dick properly, you would've been fine right now.
With a sigh, you move to sit up and suddenly spot a large build lying on the other side of your bed. You almost let out a yelp in surprise until you realized that it was Gojo and that the man never left you.
Your head tips to the side while you eye his resting frame. His back is to you and you figure the male moved away from you so that you wouldn't curse him out first thing in the morning. You groan slightly at the recollection of you telling him to stay.
The sound of your light groan is enough to stir the man awake. He begins to turn around and your heart jumps for some reason when you meet eyes with him.
Gojo rubs his eyelids slightly, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room. "Well... aren't you a sight for sore eyes..." He hums, his deep morning voice only worsening that arousal of yours.
You swallow, "Don't start."
"Mmmmgh.." He hums tiredly, the sound vibrating against his throat and weirdly making your state worse. He then sighs and shuts his eyes, "Don't start what, sweetheart?"
Gojo's voice is way too damn sexy for you to have a proper conversation and, of course, the damn pet name never helps.
You ignore his question, "You need to leave."
"Make me," Gojo says playfully. You frown and his eyes suddenly open, "Come over here 'nd force me out." He murmurs, voice still low but clearly playful.
You roll your eyes at the male, "I'm not joking."
He smirks seductively, the sight unintentionally attractive to you, "Don't roll your eyes at me."
"Why not?" You scoff sassily.
"Haven't done anythin' to make 'em roll, that's why," Gojo replies, the suggestiveness of his words feeding your hormones.
You push the blanket down and away from your legs, revealing your warm skin to the comforting air of your room. "You plan on doing something to make em' roll?" You reply.
Gojo's body stills in reaction to your words. His eyes close again and you watch him bite his bottom lip, "Want me to?"
You shouldn't. At all. You absolutely should not be needy for Gojo of all people.
You decide not to answer him and simply let out a yawn. He chuckles, the sound foolishly sexy. God, everything about this man is turning you on right now and you absolutely hate it.
"I can't stand you," You end up saying.
"Come sit on me then." Gojo fires back.
A throb is felt in between your legs and you grit your teeth. You didn't like the way he challenged you, almost as if you wouldn't really do so. It was one hundred percent because of your hormones that move, shifting to hold yourself up on your knees and shuffling over to the man.
Gojo's eyes shoot open and he chokes as you actually toss one leg over his and straddle him. His hands scramble a bit to lift himself up but you put your palm to his chest and push him right back down aggressively.
"Don't move now, you're the one who told me to come sit on you." You utter in a sultry tone.
He swallows as he stares up at you, never expecting you to be so bold. "Fuuck... it's too early for this y'know... Fuckin' sun isn't even up yet," He groans, his voice deeper than ever.
You lean forward, causing your crotch to rub over his, "Too early for what?"
"For you to be gettin' on top of me like this," Gojo sighs almost panicked, "I know I told you to but-," You wiggle into him a bit to comfort yourself, "F-Fuck, I didn't think you'd actually..."
Your torso tips forward and you press your fingertips into his chest, "Actually get on top of you?" You finish Gojo's statement questionably.
He nods, "Yeah."
The ache in between your legs is slowly becoming unbearable so, you roll your hips forward, your clothed cunt dragging against Gojo's cock and making his brows furrow and his jaw drop slightly.
"H-Hah, woah, w-wait, what're you doing?" Gojo questions. Those large hands of his go to your thighs and he squeezes your skin slightly.
You tilt your head innocently, "Trying to finish what that asshole Naoya left of me last nigh..." Your voice tails a bit as your roll your hips back and feel Gojo gently hump himself up into you, "Hah, n-night..." You manage out breathly.
Gojo smirks but his breathing is now heavy. He remembers you telling him that you had bad sex with Naoya but you never told him what exactly you meant by that. "What he left of-," He swallows hard, "You?"
Your head nods, "Mhm. Fucker didn't even make me cum," You explain, pouting frustratedly as you recall.
The male below you blinks, "What?"
"He didn't make me cum," You repeat while slowly grinding over the steady rise of Gojo's cock. There's almost nothing more stimulating than feeling as a male grows hard beneath you.
It's so warm and hard how his dick springs to life within the confines of his boxers. All because of a little bit of dry humping.
"You want me to make up for him?" Gojo's quick to offer.
You smile lustfully and drag your hips in a slow circle over his erection, "No... I can uh, shit... can get of jus' fine like this..." You tell him.
A wet spot forms on the male's boxers as precum seeps out the tip of his cock at the thought of watching you get yourself off by dry humping.
Gojo slips his hands up and under the sweater you're wearing, his grasp going to your hips and guiding you through your movements. "You sure?" He breathes out, "You and I both know I can satisfy you just fine."
You chuckle and then catch him off guard by grabbing his hands and prying them away from your body. Gojo's eyes widen when you pin his hands up above his head, your gaze meeting his while you continue grinding on him.
"I know you can but..." You tilt your head tauntingly, "You haven't earned that kinda thing back."
"W-What?" He stammers, his face flushing as your fingers squeeze around his wrists.
The way you're looking at him alone is enough to drive him over the edge but he manages to control himself. Your voice lowers, "You haven't earned the right to fuck me Gojo." Your words make him blink in disbelief, "Not after all the shit you put me through."
"But..."
"There is no but." You say, leaning down to him and tipping your head down to his neck. Carefully, you press your lips into him, "Right now, the only thing you've earned is the pleasure of being used by me."
Your words go straight to his cock and Gojo gulps. Is he hearing you correctly right now? Did you just say you were going to use his body for your pleasure? Is he even okay with that?? Of course he is. Gojo physically couldn't say no to such a thing.
Your lips push into the skin right under his jaw and Gojo groans lowly. Your cunt flutters around nothing at the sound and you grin. Lifting yourself, you move to hover your face over his, peering down into his eyes.
"S'that okay?" You whisper, "Can I do that?"
"I-I..." Gojo is at a complete loss for words right now.
You inch closer to him and your lips graze his own, "Can I use you, Gojo?"
He swore he almost came at the imagination of you doing so.
Everything you said was exactly what you wanted too. You really didn't believe that Gojo deserved to have sex with you without some form of punishment due to all the things he's putting you through. Hell, the only reason you're about to do anything with him is because of how horny you woke up.
Or at least, that's what you're going to blame it on anyway.
"Of course you can, sweets." Gojo utters, his eyes low, "I'm all yours, every part of me, it's all yours." He breathes out.
You smile at his words, "Yeah?"
"M-Mhm... You wanna selfishly use me to make yourself feel good," He shrugs, "By all means." Gojo encourages you, "Please do actually. I told you I'd make things up to you right?"
You almost forgot about that but, he's right. He did promise such a thing so, you nod in response.
"Consider this a part of it," The male explains, "I'm nothing more than a tool for you."
You smile at his words, butterflies fluttering through your stomach in reaction. You wondered if he was only speaking like this in terms of sex or if he meant in general but, based on the needy look in his eyes and the redness of his cheeks, he meant it in every aspect.
Slowly, your eyes shut and you press your lips into his for the first time in what feels like forever. The immediate whine that leaves Gojo is so utterly pathetic and desperate, the fact that you're still pinning his hands down acts as torture for the male.
Given that his favorite thing to do is touch you, to be deprived of that during sex is about to be one of the most difficult things he's ever experienced. But, for you; Gojo would do anything to fix everything he's broken between the two of you.
Your lips part over his and he's eager to accept your tongue sliding into his mouth, his hands simply twitching to feel your body as the two of you make out. It's slow and sloppy, wet tongues slipping over one another while soft and quiet moist sounds of your kissing fill the air.
It ends up being you that folds to the urge to touch and feel him, sliding your hands down from his writs, along his muscular arms, to his shoulders, and then to his neck and face-- growing more aggressive with your kissing and feelings his smooth skin beneath your fingers.
Gojo kept his arms up in place as you lifted from his mouth, quickly whispering his desires to you, "Can I touch you?" He hushes out before you kiss him again.
Feeling ignored, Gojo is struggling to control himself. Nothing is stopping him from moving his hands to your waist and flipping the two of you over, quickly grinding into that warm cunt of yours and pleasing you like he knows you deserve. Yet, he remains still anyway.
You tug on his lower lip for a moment before releasing it, "You wanna touch me?"
"Please," He begs, "A-At least while you're kissing me..."
"Alright," You agree, "But when I tell you to take your hands off me, you better."
Gojo nods understandingly and obediently, quickly flying his hands down to your waist and gripping onto you as your lips connect again. The kiss only grows sloppier, your lips sliding over his and his tongue working its way up into your mouth, leading you to hum against him.
Deep down inside, you can't lie... you did miss making out with Gojo. Nobody kisses you like he does. This man kisses you as if it's his dying act.
His hands go down to your hips and he pushes himself up a bit while pulling you down onto his crotch again. Through your messy kissing, Gojo starts moving with you to sit himself up with you in his lap, your lips hardly ever disconnecting from one another.
Now that you're both sat up, it makes kissing each other and dry humping at the same time a whole lot more comfortable and easy.
Through the softness of your lips, Gojo's able to whisper a thing out to you every now and then, "F-Fuck... I missed you s'much..." He mumbles into you.
His arms wrap around your waist while yours go around his neck, both of you hungrily making out with each other.
When you pull away for a second to breathe, you respond. "Did you?" You murmur.
Gojo nods eagerly, "You know I did."
You smile slightly as you kiss him again. Both of you just barely conversate in between pecks, "...Prove it," You utter.
The sound of his lips smacking over yours is heard, "O-Okay... I will, however-, mh... however you want." He speaks between your constant pecks and gentle sucks over his lower lip, "T-Told you... I'm all yours."
You finally pry away from his mouth completely, a string of saliva left between your lips and his. "Alright then... can I..." You bite your lower lip for a moment, trying to debate if you really want to go through with the idea in your head.
Gojo looks absolutely dazed right now from all your kissing-- having almost blown his load in his pants from making out with you. His cheeks are completely red, his lips parted with heavy pants leaving him, and his eyes low as they look at you.
"Yes," Gojo blurts out, "Whatever it is, you can do it to me." He agrees.
The man appears as though he was fucked out and all you've done is swap spit with him.
You stare at him innocently before giving him one last peck and then moving to his ear, "Can I tie you up?"
Tumblr media Tumblr media
GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ✔︎
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎
KAMO CHOSO ✔︎
ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎
NANAMI KENTO ☐
??? SUKUNA ☐
Tumblr media
mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
Tumblr media
725 notes · View notes
alovelyfrenchworld · 4 days ago
Text
Your Neigborly Orc Part 1
Meeting an orc was not something that anyone from your village ever expected. Even with your village being the closest human civilization near the river orc territories, it was still considered strange.
Half-orcs were proof of the interracial relations, but they were rare in your part of the country. A half-orc hadn't been spotted for around 50 years. You never thought you would be one to compete with the discourse of your people.
You met your warlord lover perchance after hunting one day. THe border between the orc territory and the human territory was divided by a small river in the forest. Few ever ventured that close.
There was knowledge that other orc territories had blurred with the humans in other regions, but yours had yet to do so. The overall interactions with orcs had increased across the lands and it was becoming a small shadow in the thoughts of the human civilizations of what these interactions could mean.
Regardless of their opinions, you tried to stay near to your homestead you had established in the blissful wood. You decided a change of pace to create a space for yourself was beneficial. You lived close to the river that divided the territories as it gave you a water source, but when hunting and foraging, you tried to stay as close as possible. If one was not paying attention, it was easy to cross the borders between territories. Even in your land did the borders begin to blur.
You had begun to make a living from selling animals meats and forage herbs in your village. Living in the wood gave you access to many resources and a source for profit. Living solitarily was not as lonely as many thought.
**********
The winter was growing harsher as the weeks went by, making it all the more pertinent to stay stocked on supplies. Primarily, that meant firewood was in constant need.
After enjoying a humble breakfast and attending to your minimal, but helpful, livestock, you set out into the nearby wood to refill your kindling.
Supplied with your rucksack, simple ace, and rope for bundling, you set out for the day. The weather had killed off many of the berry bushes and herbs you often used, so meat and wood had become the primary subjects of your searches.
After finding a decent spot, you chopped away at some smaller trees that would be easier for you to carry. Carrying everything by hand was not your usual method, but your wagon was not properly equipped for travelling in the snow, so you you could only bring home what you could carry. That fateful day, you were not the only one who decided to go out deeper into the woods.
Some distance away, across the river, was a big, burly, orc chopping away at a large log. Methodically and skillfully, he was chopping the wood and bundling it together.
You were mesmerized. You had never seen an orc in person before. He fascinated you.
Having noticed your staring, you went back to chopping wood. The noise must have alerted the orc, who then took his turn to take note of you when you were looking away.
You, unknowingly being watched in return, bundled the bits of ash tree you had chopped and readied yourself to go back home.
"It won't be enough," spoke a gravelly voice.
You turned to see the orc standing closer to the river, his kindling hanging from one arm.
"I'm sorry?" you hadn't expected him to speak to you.
"A few more bits of wood will help you. It's an awfully freezing winter." He was right, but you wouldn't admit that to a stranger.
"I appreciate your input, but I can handle my own. Have a good day, sir." At that, you turned around to head back home.
Regardless of whether or not the orc was right, you wanted to be self-sufficient. You had all you could carry and that was more that what many could do, so either way, you were proud.
188 notes · View notes
leikeliscomet · 6 months ago
Text
(Reposting from twitter)
My POV as a Black fan that thinks Dot and Bubble's racism commentary is trash
Rewatched Dot and Bubble and I'm gonna break down from my POV as a Black fan why this episode didn't work for me & why it's an awful racism commentary. Long arse post incoming:
The whole "You should've noticed the cast was all white except for fifteen ha your bias is showing" doesn't work for a show that's been predominantly white for 60+ years. D&B casting has been the default for most of the show so its not abnormal enough to be a racial litmus test. An example is the Matt Smith era The only reoccurring character of colour in s5 (2+ appearances) is Liz 10. Artie n Angie in s7. 0 in s6. RTD's own era isn't fully safe either. For many eps Martha or Mickey are the *only* Black characters. Most POC are side characters or extras.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
White fans should be aware of the predominantly white casting of the show but this late in the game feels cheap. Most of the show has gone through 100% white episodes including fan faves and it was never an issue back then bc it was beneficial. This is so hollow. Representing racists as cartoon caricatures SEVERLY underestimates the danger of white supremacy irl. White supremacy is system designed and constructed and rebranded over centuries. It is not accidental. People aren't racist bc they don't know they're racist because they *do* They know the system that oppresses POC, Black people especially, benefits them socially and financially and that is why they participate. Its not stupidity it's intention. That should've been the Finetime core not Lindy goofing around bc the arrows are gone or some shit.
Human Nature showed us racist young people that exercised this power bc they knew this. They may be children but they are still dangerous bc of their views. Martha knew this. The silly tech obsessed gen z angle erases this danger and that of actual gen z white supremacy
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Instead of the camp goofy tone we could've gotten a serious focused episode. The slugs and millenial/gen z social media silly distracts from what could've been the main theme of colonisation instead of saving it for 10 mins of exposition at the end & scattering microaggressions. Saving Fifteen's racism scene for a goofy episode was a horrid idea. Spending 30 mins on representing racism as silliness then giving a dramatic dangerous score is the definition of tonal whiplash. Representing his oppressor as a blonde bimbo again does not take this seriously. Fifteen went to 1960s BRITAIN & got through it unscathed. Finetime is a fictional futuristic land but the racism of 1960s Britain was real. If anytime was right it could've been Devil's Chord. Distancing yourself from a panto villain is easy but addressing your history is hard.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The scene itself is incredibly performed so I'll give Ncuti his flowers but what he used this skill for could've been so much more. Having his FIRST SCENE begging to save a racist is disgusting. It isn't Black people's responsibility to show compassion to people that want us dead. Yes the Doctor helps the baddies bc they care. But they're aren't ignorant to prejudice. The liberal anti racism of who is so jarring and why I still think Thin Ice is performative. When white people are angry at injustice it's radical. When it's Black people we're aggressive.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Respectability politics is a tool of white supremacy. That if one pleads and is nice enough they can earn liberation. What would white fans think of Fifteen if he DIDN'T beg Lindy? If your allyship with Black people depends on showing kindness to racists you are NOT an ally.
Next up is Ricky. It was established ALL Finetime citizens have white supremacist views yet Ricky September stans refuse to see him in any negative light. Just like Joan Redfern white dw fans refuse to see racism if a character is likeable. If nice guy Ricky's a racist, then anyone no matter the niceness can be racist too and that's a pill white fans aren't ready to swallow. If racism is systemic and not about individual character, then what's keeping them safe? What happens when YOU are under the microscope.
THIS is why we NEED Black writers in Doctor Who. The nuances, depth and complexity of the Black experience can only be told at it's best by Black creatives and not guessed, assumed or spoken over by white fans and white writers. It's okay to put ego aside and say you don't get it.
"Im white but I loved the Doctor's reaction" "I'm white and i thought the racism commentary was great" "I'm white but i-" Yet again, we have to sit through another round of white and non Black fans of colour dictating Black representation for us. I'm so fucking tired man. AGAIN IM YELLING FROM MY HILLTOP TO WATCH SHOWS BY BLACK WRITERS. Almost EVERY single theme in Dot and Bubble and frankly most of the show has been done WAY better in other media. RTD is not the authority on Black stories. We are. Always have been and always will.
Tl;dr Dot and Bubble is an unserious and tacky racism commentary. It's core message is drowned by more RTD Who camp. Don't tell me this episode was good at representating my own experience. It wasn't. S15 having Black writers isn't a need it's a must. Goodbye.
Reblog this version pls
652 notes · View notes