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asordinaryppl · 9 days

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A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 15: PAINFUL RE:BAKE - Episode 30: Picaresque Returns

!! this and the next two chapters are the play! due to the movement and sound effects involved, it’s best enjoyed when read along in-game!

[Buzzer sounds, the curtain lifts]

Benjamin (Taichi): “C’mooon, isn’t it about time you guys let me help with your jobs?”

Lansky (Juza): “This isn’t the kind of job you should be doing.”

Luciano (Banri): “We’re not gettin’ that many jobs in the first place. If this goes on, you’ll be the one putting food on the table.”

Benjamin: “Haha, I gotta do my best at the factory, then. I’m off!”

Luciano: “Yeah, see ya later.”

Lansky: “Be careful.”

Benjamin: “You too.”

[Door closes]

Luciano: “Still… I’m bored to death.”

Lansky: “This is all ‘cause you put your hands on that informant girl last time, man.”

Luciano: “Pretty sure it’s ‘cause you keep raisin’ our fee.”

Lansky: “Don’t try to pin this on me.”

Luciano: “I should be saying that.”

[Door opening]

Client: “You guys the jacks of all trades I keep hearin’ so much about? I’ve got a request.”

Luciano: “... That’s us.”

Izumi: (Banri-kun, Juza-kun and Taichi-kun are all expressing how the passage of time has affected their roles in a natural way you wouldn’t expect from them during the debut.)

Izumi: (You can feel the changes the trio’s relationships have been through, and it pulls the audience right back to Picaresque’s world.)

Benjamin: “Morning, Angelo!”

Angelo (Azami): “Good morning.”

Benjamin: “Oh, yeah, do you wanna come over to my house? I wanna introduce you to my brothers.”

Angelo: “There’s no need for such formalities, I think.”

Benjamin: “But you’re the first friend I’ve ever made, so–”

Angelo: “Just ‘cause I’m the first one… There’s gotta be something wrong with you…”

Benjamin: “Huh, you think?”

Angelo: “Ah well. Your big brothers are those ultra strong Nii-chans you keep talking about, right? I can’t wait to meet them.”

Benjamin: “I’m sure you’ll hit it off with both of them!”

Izumi: (Angelo, the new character played by Azami-kun, also fits well with Picaresque’s setting.)

Izumi: (Thanks to the makeup, everyone’s looking more stylish, too.)

Luciano: “Kidnap Angelo Montare, it says… No need to even think about this, we’re refusin’. The thought of kidnappin’ a brat leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

Lasnky: “Right… He’s 17, man. That’s pretty much how old Benjamin is.”

[Door opening]

Benjamin: “I’m baaack! Nii-chan, Luciano, I brought my friend!”

Lansky: “Friend?”

Angelo: “Hello.”

Benjamin: “This is Angelo! We work at the factory together!”

Luciano: “Angelo?”

Lasnky: “... Hey.”

Luciano: “What’s your last name?”

Angelo: “Hm? It’s Montare.”

Luciano: “... We’re takin’ that job.”

Lansky: “You serious?”

Luciano: “We ain’t gonna leave Benjamin’s friend like this, are we?”

Benjamin: “Something wrong?”

Lansky: “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Lansky: “Can we really fool ‘em like that?”

Luciano: “You just watch.”

[Door knocking]

Client: “Where’s the kid?”

Luciano: “I got him hidden somewhere he’ll never be found. Can’t take any chances, so we’re bein’ careful.”

Client: “You’re not getting paid till I have the kid.”

Luciano: “What’re we even kidnapping him for? Doubt it’s for ransom, he looks too poor for that.”

Client: “It’s got nothing to do with you guys, just hurry and bring me the kid.”

[Door closes]

Lansky: “Great job, genius. What are we gonna do now?”

Luciano: “We can play dumb and pretend he ran off when things cool down a bit.”

Lansky: “Better pray that happens before those guys find Angelo.”

Benjamin: “You mean… Your job this time involves Angelo somehow?”

Lansky: “Benjamin…”

Luciano: “Since when have you been here?”

Benjamin: “From the beginning. Hey, Angelo’s in trouble, right? I can help hide him.”

Lansky: “You shouldn’t get involved.”

Benjamin: “I’m still your little brother. I should be able to do this much.”

Luciano: “They know both our faces, man. He’d probably be safer with Benjamin.”

Lansky: “Luciano, you bastard.”

Luciano: “We can’t keep coddling Benjamin till the end of time.”

Benjamin: “Leave it to me, Nii-chan.”

Lansky: “Urgh…”

Lansky: “They’re gonna start getting suspicious.”

Luciano: “They didn’t let us in on their plan at all. Just what are they planning to use Angelo for?”

Lansky: “So long as we don’t know, letting Angelo wander around is dangerous…”

Benjamin: “I’ll take Angelo’s place.”

Lansky: “What?”

Benjamin: “We might find out what they want to do to Angelo if we do that.”

Luciano: “Right, those guys don’t know what Angelo looks like…”

Lansky: “Stop fucking around! There’s no way I’m letting you do something so dangerous!”

Benjamin: “I’ll be okay. I’m sure you and Luciano will be there to get me out of any pinch.”

Benjamin: “I want to save Angelo. The way you saved me, Nii-chan.”

Lansky: “Benjamin…”

Luciano: “We’ll definitely protect you. Will you help us out?”

Benjamin: “Of course. Leave it to me.”

Lansky: “Luciano, you bastard… If shit gets real, you’re grabbing Benjamin and getting the fuck out of there.”

Luciano: “No prob.”

Benjamin: …

Client: “So that’s Angelo? Here’s your reward, take it and leave.”

[The client throws something]

Luciano: “Before that, are you gonna tell us who this kid is? If not, I might spill what’s happening without meanin’ to.”

Client: “He’s the illegitimate son of a certain mafia boss.”

Lansky: “I think we should be asking for more here, then. I mean, that ransom’s gonna be huge. Or maybe we should just negotiate with the guy himself?”

Client: “Quit while you’re ahead. You don’t wanna make that Capone famiglia your enemy.”

Luciano: “Heeh…”

Lansky: “I see.”

Luciano: “So that means you guys are ready to take on the Capone famiglia?”

Luciano: “We’re backing off, then. God knows what’ll happen if word gets out that we helped you with this. Here’s the reward.”

[Luciano throws the reward back]

Client: “What? You bastards–”

Lansky: “You’re gonna have to capture Angelo yourselves.”

[The trio run away]

Client: “Wait! Hey, catch those guys!”

[Gun loading]

Luciano: “Of course this wasn’t gonna be so easy.”

[Shots fired]

Lansky: “Stay behind me, Benjamin.”

Benjamin: “‘Kay!”

[Luciano dodging bullets]

Passerby A: “Woah!”

[Lansky and Benjamin dodging bullets]

Passerby B: “Someone call the cops, now!”

Luciano: “Tch, don’t get yourselves involved!”

Police officer: “What are you guys doing!? Put your hands up!”

Lansky: “Damn, we’re surrounded.”

Luciano: “Let’s charge. We can use the cops to stall ‘em.”

[The trio run]

Client: “Wait!”

Luciano: “Look, officer! They’re the bad ones!”

Police officer: “Halt!”

[Benjamin and Lansky dodging shots]

Lansky: “...?”

Client’s colleague: “Stay right where you are!”

Luciano: “Ugh, they’re so damn persistent. Get in the car, Benjamin!”

Benjamin: “Alright!”

[Lansky shoots and dodges shots]

Luciano: “Get your ass here, Lansky!”

[Lansky and Luciano dodging shots]

[Car drives away]

Lansky: “Hey, weren’t those cops acting weird?”

Luciano: “Hah? If you’ve got time to be twiddlin’ your thumbs, do something about those guys behind us!”

Lansky: “Ugh.”

[Lansky shooting]

Keiku: ——

Towa: … You shouldn’t lean forward so much.

Keiku: …

Towa: (His hands are trembling… Are the action scenes getting him all pumped up?)

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#a3!#translation #a3! translation #banri settsu #juza hyodo #taichi nanao #azami izumida #+ more

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arcielee · 1 year

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Interview With a Writer

Thank you @theoneeyedprince for giving us some behind the scenes perspective on your brilliant writing 💜 As always, Interview With a Writer is my ongoing series of the talented souls on Tumblr and ao3, and their brilliant writing!

Dividers by @saradika 💜

Name: theoneeyedprince

Story: A Refined Taste

Paring: modern Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Warnings: Explicit/18+, be mindful of chapter warnings!

So, when did you start writing?

I have been interested in story telling and writing since I can remember. My first story that I've ever written was for a class in my third grade tilted "A Tale of a Little Droplet". I don't really remember why I decided to write a story about the journey that water goes through. Perhaps our teacher gave us this topic or I was just funny like that.

The thing is that I think that I've always had a soft spot for fiction. Then as the years went by I wrote everything from prose, to lyrics and poetry. Then I went to university and I started writing scripts, which became my new favourite form of writing, if I have to be honest.

When it comes to fanfiction it was the Harry Potter fandom that introduced me to it a decade ago. I read Dramione, Harry and Hermione and The Marauders fics first in my native language and then switched to writing those in English.

I didn't write at first but after months of being a reader I decided to give it a go and posted my own Dramione fic. Unfortunately, I believe that it got lost in the Internet ether because I didn't save the chapters on my computer-I wrote everything on the fanfiction site I used back then.

My fanfiction experience stopped or rather ended abruptly when I was in my senior year of high school and during four years at uni until my final year of my Masters degree began in October 2022. Funny enough it wasn't only the year when House of the Dragon premiered, but also the month when the older Aemond Targaryen appeared in the show.

The moment I saw this character on screen it was as if an old friend whispered in my ear telling me to come back. So after years and years of absence in the fanfiction community, I was finally back. All thanks to a new ASOIAF universe show and an incredibly intriguing character of Aemond Targaryen, played by Ewan Mitchell who I already knew from his role as Osferth in The Last Kingdom.

I took it slow however, searching fics and getting to know AO3 and the fanfiction side of tumblr. And as I was doing that, an idea for my own HOTD fanfic came to me. At that moment I felt like I was truly back.

What made you decide to start writing in English? Do you have any advice for budding new writers where English is not their native tongue?

I'd talk about bilingualism and literature written in English by non-native speakers for hours on end!

In my country (Poland, for anyone interested) kids start learning English in kindergarten so it became my second language pretty early on in my childhood, a constant since I was 6 years old. Lucky for me, it sunk into my brain with ease so the more I studied it the more comfortable I became with talking and writing in it.

Also, growing up with British and American shows, films and Internet helped me with that. I stopped reading translated books in high school (in English that is) 'cause I thought that if I watched visual media and listened to songs without having them translated, then why not try that with literature.

My journey with writing prose and poetry in English started then too. For some reason, writing in my second language (English) comes easier to me than in my first. I'm not sure how to describe it, it's still a mystery to me. Maybe it's the fact that I've been familiar with English for so long that my brain simply prefers it. Also, I got my degrees in English literature and translation studies so that helped me a lot with understanding this language at a level that feels like my second native tongue.

I'd say that as an author who writes in English I have an advantage because of how much time and space English occupied my life in the past and in the present.

My advice to anyone who wants to write in English but isn't a native speaker would be to simply start. Start writing and reading and get familiar with the language through these activities. The saying 'Practise makes perfect' is one hundred percent accurate!

To those who already write in their second or third language - I applaud you because by doing so you show everyone a skill that you should be proud of! In our modern times English is a global language and so available for everyone to learn that people take it for granted when someone says they read or write in it. How hard could it be, right? Well, the latter takes time and expertise and requires love and devotion for what you do. And doing that in another language is worth praising.

Where did the plot for A Refined Taste come from?

The idea came to me after devouring every modern AU that came my way. Summer was around the corner and I thought 'What if I wrote a modern AU myself? Can I do it?'

I was writing my in-canon Aemond fic at that time but started feeling a little burnt out and needed something else to focus on with hopes that it'll fill me with new inspiration and motivation. I wrote two short scenes but for what turned out to be a completely different fic at the end–the action took place during summer holidays so these scenes ended up in ART's Part 4 and 5.

The inspiration for A Refined Taste particularly came from Pinterest and Lana del Rey. A still from The Talented Mr Ripley showed up on my dash, while I was listening to Lana's Honeymoon album. Soon enough I was adding tens of pictures to my 'old money aesthetics’ board and then it dawned on me. This is perfect–a modern AU about the Targaryens being an old money family who lives in a big mansion by the sea and owns a private vineyard!

I had the title at the ready because it was one of three that I considered for a completely different modern AU but luckily it fit the theme and aesthetics. 'A refined taste' is a reference to the vineyard and their private wine collection, the old money lifestyle (the romanticised one, of course) and as we later find out in the story to the people we choose to spend time with and love.

So, in short the idea started with a desire to write a modern AU fic and old money aesthetics.

Explain your interpretation of Aemond. What drives him? Why is he the way he is in ART?

Aemond from A Refined Taste can be described in two different ways depending on who you ask about him. If you're like the reader at the beginning of the story, so someone who doesn't know him personally, no connection despite shaking hands with him once, he seems distant, so quiet that you might think him pompous and judgmental and there's this cocky attitude that comes to the surface from time to time.

However if you get to know him closer or manage to break down his walls, it turns out that he's more of an observant than a participant that's why he barely talks around strangers. Well, except for when there are his siblings around, then he might join in the conversation or crack a joke (whether it ends up being genuinely funny or mean that's another story 'cause our guy spends more time with books, he's an academic scholar after all, than with people that aren't his family).

When Aemond trusts someone or falls in love with them he lets them see this vulnerable and caring side of him that he keeps locked deep inside due to the trauma and heartbreak he faced in the past. He was raised by his mother because his father was always absent so one might assume that being doted on by Alicent he'd be more in touch with his feelings but unfortunately for him it was the opposite. Especially after losing his eye it became obvious how little Viserys cared for him.

Also, he became a shell of himself, locking himself from the world, in consequence becoming a very lonely boy who later had trouble finding friends outside of his siblings. That is why he focused on his studies.

When it comes to his romantic life, he had crushes but his low self-esteem constantly pulled him back from shooting his shot with those girls. He went through some sort of transformation during the summer before his first year at Oldtown University with the help of Aegon who was finished with his B.A. at KLU at that time. That's when he met Alys, his first serious girlfriend and a cause for the return of his bitterness and insecurities (it was a long, on and off toxic relationship). After that he was with Cass who was only a rebound for him, turning him into a cold and selfish dick in her eyes, which he was at the end. Aemond simply couldn't think of any way to cope with his previous relationship and treated Cass like Alys treated him. And that is one of the reasons why he enjoys sex, because he can be in control of a situation and forget everything just for a moment.

Then, there came the reader who showed him that he doesn't have to be at odds with the world and people in it only because he's hurting so much, that if he gave someone a chance they can surprise him in a good way.

His love language is acts of service (and quality time, at the same time)–he offers to teach the reader how to play tennis, notices what book she's been reading and gives her a first edition he's sure she'd like, shows his attraction to her by providing her pleasure without wanting anything in return (Part 4 and Part 5), takes her on a date on a boat and at the vineyard, chooses the PHD program that is closest to where she lives, shows up with flowers at her work in order to surprise her. Words of affirmation are something new to him though, but seeing how open she is with her feelings, he decided to grand her the same in return.

He's a very contradicting character in canon, so I wanted to convey that in ART too.

Was there anything in specific that inspired your Reader?

I wanted the character of the Reader to be someone who is independent on her own but would benefit from ending up in a relationship with someone who shares her interests and challenges her. I'm not going to lie, her love for literature is the author showing themselves in the fictional character. But that's totally okay because every writer leaves a part of themselves in the characters they create.

I tried to make her as relatable to the person reading as her as I was able. Besides a couple of mentions of the quite big difference in height between her and Aemond, I decided not to describe her physical appearance so you the reader can see yourself in her, act in this role even. In this I got inspired by some amazing modern AUs where a reader can wholly become The Reader.

On the other hand, I needed her to be three-dimensional at the same time. In the process she became a mixture of my favourite characters and the women in my life. Confident in what she wants and needs but not free from self-doubt, realistic but romantic, in touch with her feelings but sometimes too much that it causes her distress, empathetic but prejudiced in some cases (Aemond at the beginning). Indeed it was the women I'm influenced by that inspired to write the Reader in this particular way.

Why do you think your Reader complements Aemond so well?

I think that my Reader and Aemond complement each other because they're interested in literature and relate to each other's love for their siblings, but also because they differ in so many aspects. They naturally challenge each other and not only in a fun way that excites them, but also so they're able to grow as individual people–find and reveal hidden sides they were too afraid to act on.

Was there another characters in your story you enjoyed writing?

I really enjoyed writing the Reader’s sister Argella. She was the only OC in this story–besides the Reader of course if we can consider her to be an OC–that i made from scratch.

Argella and Reader’s relationship was inspired by the one I have with my sister but changed slightly into something even more special, deep in understanding of one another. A truly profound sisterhood. Besides that I loved throwing in these little moments of her and Helaena together and I can’t wait to write a one shot where we’ll get to know Argella as a character and which will delve into the girls’ relationship.

Do you think there be a sequel? Or do you have anything else you are working on next?

I don’t think there’s a need for a sequel. The Epilogue was written in a way that both concludes the story but allows us to imagine their life after it. There might be one shots if anyone requested something that would added to the story.

For now I’d like to focus on the rewriting of my first Aemond fic titled Of Blood and Fire which I’m currently in the middle of and an upcoming Tom Bennet story - As The World Burns. In both cases the romantic interests are original female characters, which are just so fun to create. Also one shots are to be always expected because my mind comes up with too many ideas. It’s just too little time to bring them all to life.

But one will be posted soon as part of your/arcielee’s 1k celebration! All I can say is keep an eye on my blog 🤭

Do you have a personal favorite story you'd like to share?

I thoroughly enjoyed @adragonprinceswhore 's “Warm Me Up” one shot and I see she’s got a series inspired by Fleetwood Mac, which sounds amazing!

"Come Back To Me" by @assortedseaglass has a special place in my heart because it was the very first Billy Washington fic I have ever read. "My Heart Belongs To Daddy" was the first fic of @humanpurposes that I read and in my top 5 of favourite modern AUs.

Also, @endless-ineffabilities series Maroon captured my heart! It’s been months since I read it and I’m still thinking about it.

#iwaw #iwaw17 #interview with a writer #bts #of their brilliant writing #writing community #a refined taste

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punch22s · 6 months

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hey y'all! this is peyton [sh/th, 21+, cst—also the mun of selena, dylan, hyeon & dabin] and i'm stoked to be introducing you guys to one of my most pathetic characters yet, ma ilseong; or, as he'll introduce himself, mouse. you can view his stats here, his pinterest here & read all about him under the cut. ps pleassse add me on discord @ #seamonkeydefender for plotting!

born october 4, 1998 in indianapolis, indiana, usa... yippee! (/sarcastic)

the entire universe is evidently against ma ilseong from birth. he spends the first ten years of his life in fucking indiana of all places, he lives on a military base, he's 100% korean but his parents are like "nooooo we don't need to teach him korean or expose him to korean culture" so he sure as fuck doesn't feel korean, he's the only asian kid in his class though so he doesn't really feel like he belongs there either, his dad is a victim of racism so he comes home and treats everyone else like shit just 'cause he feels bad about himself like... Be Real. this gotta be a nightmare.

blah blah blah... after about 10 years, ilseong's dad is deployed to an american military base in south korea and it's a fucked up experience for ilseong to say the least because up until this point, he had had consistency if nothing else—the move was extremely hard for him, and it was especially hard being around a bunch of people he evidently shared a heritage with but couldn't communicate with beyond basic greetings and apologies (really setting the scene for the rest of his life)

starts being called by his english name (isaiah ma) while in korea, thinks it's stupid as hell 'cause how's he gonna be isaiah in korea and ilseong in america? / ultimately though he doesn't fully identify with either name, so it's around this time that he starts telling everyone to call him mouse, a nickname he was given when he was quite young 'cause he wouldn't fully enunciate his (korean) name and it ended up sounding like... well, mouse but i digress

stayed in korea for a year and a half, then was moved elsewhere: thus begins the beautiful adventure (/sarcastic) of never having a "real" home, never belonging, never being able to communicate with the people around him, never being able to get comfortable enough to do shit 'cause ilseong knew whatever life he was living was temporary; he did still half-ass try to learn basics of the native language of whatever country his family was staying in @ the time, tried to make friends, etc etc but let's be real... he was a kid. so he spent most of his time in his room, playing games and hoping to GOD that his parents would just leave him alone

was given a lot of slack as he grew up 'cause he was always "the new kid", had his assignments graded too kindly, didn't really get in much trouble even when he was doing "bad" things, was basically taught that if he just acts like he's trying and apologizes when he needs to, he doesn't actually have to put real effort in: yes he blames the kindness that was extended to him for turning him into the good-for-nothing failure he is now

anyway i'm not trying to ramble too much so tl;dr: continues to move roughly every two years and ends up back in south korea as he's finishing out high school / after he graduates, his parents move back to indiana—mouse really doesn't give a shit about indiana or being with his parents so he chooses to stay / spends his first year couch-surfing and flashing his pathetic "please help me <3 please forgive me <3 please don't be mad at me <3" face to survive / flies through jobs like CRAZY but ultimately decides his dream job is to act, has since starred in a variety of stupid ass cheap commercials and had a few background roles or very minor roles in dramas / acting doesn't pay his bills tho so atm he's really just chasing a pipe dream while working at a gas station AT NIGHT and hoping no one tries to rob him, god bless / will accept any odd job as long as the pay is enough to buy a meal or more.

other info: occasionally fills in for a good friend of his at their shop in changsin-dong toy market, you already know he's in there with his feet kicked up on the counter and bumping up prices when customers try to haggle 'cause "he knows what he's got" / at a very low, depressed point in his life he chose to adopt a dog and it's the biggest mistake he's made to this day 'cause he asked which one had the least chance of getting adopted, didn't ask many questions and now he has a dog who won't cuddle with him and scares the hoes away / in a perfect world, he would be an olympic swimmer but he never felt like pursuing the sport was something feasible for him as he moved so much throughout his adolescence; regardless, he does still love to swim / a parasite, not afraid to ask for handouts / type of guy who will sink his teeth into you until he's drained you of all that you have, and it's not always easy to tell what he's taking until it's gone. blame it on the loneliness and the laziness.

plot ideas

the good friend who allowed mouse to stay with them (and probably overstay his welcome) when his parents moved back to indiana and he had nowhere else to go. being friends with mouse (really being friends with him) is not something that's easy so their friendship is probably kind complicated but </3 we can discuss that!

surface-level/fake friends: people mouse has no real interest in, but he knows that they're rich/successful in an industry that he needs connections in/have something else to offer that he would like to keep around. maybe they know his intentions are self-serving and they don't give a fuck, maybe they don't know and drama is around the corner, etc etc.

night owls who come into the gas station late as hell... he's been listening to a true crime podcast and your character comes in acting weird as hell so he's contemplating calling the cops. shaking in fear as they're just trying to decide which energy drink will help them pull the all-nighter they're shooting for...

regular customers! mouse is a customer service flirt, so: people he's hit on a outrageous amount but he's all talk and no follow through / random ass people who mouse has gotten to know over the course of their 3minute convos and now they've gotten into a habit of hanging out outside the store / someone particularly lonely who comes in just to vent to him NJHBDJH

long-shot, but: a friend he met during his time in another country, potentially the reason why he decided to stay in south korea (assuming they were in korea before him) as they're one of the best friends he's ever had

someone mouse owes money to??!?!? wyd when you see him buying rounds for a pretty girl at the club as if he doesn't owe you 2,000,000won...

past coworkers in all of their forms: friends of circumstance, hating each other 'cause No Way Mouse Got The Promotion And He Doesn't Even Do Shit (re: they hate mouse in business settings, but can admit he's a great friend - just useless as hell), getting fired together 'cause they both skipped out on work to do something stupid as hell and their excuses didn't add up, etc etc etc, a current coworker could be fun too!

a neighbor who lives in the same cheap ass apartments as him. they share their food with him, he does minor repairs for them when the landlord can't be reached, everybody wins...

who's gonna take one for the team and get bit by his crazy ass dog. a one-night-stand gone awry 'cause she (obviously) didn't recognize your muse's scent, assumed they were an intruder and bit their leg?!?!? not super gruesome or anything but mouse is still in the process of making up for it (please don't report his dog to animal control </3)

open to anything <333 i wanna put him in the stupidest situations possible

#jongno:hello #i'mma be real i didn't think that queue was ever gonna end #this is a sideblog / i dm from impulsetheories!

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minicomics · 7 months

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My Punk Band (:<

Alright, so allow me to introduce ya to my crew, which are the ones from the group photo.

Dew (Aka Killer Kaufmo): Now dewy here is this crazy clown from an Au as he was originally a Kaufmo, but have a few screws loose as he tries to off Pomni from her arrival. But he soon be stopped by the ringleader and was put to his room, stuck there forever. Which brings me to the pic as I helped him out and gave him a new look as to not let the chatter teeth notice that his clown went missing. Anyways, after saving him, I train dew to be a sort of fighter and to always have the upper hand as he is good when attacking with throwing knifes or regular ones. Sometimes he can be cheeky and try to flirt with me, which I had to stop him by hitting him by the head with my guitar or with a mallet. (Surprisingly, he is quite durable and expendable when getting hit, which I absolutely like in a punching bag.) When we aren't fighting, we just hang out and just play some music. He's good with the drums in my newly form band.

Pam-Na (Aka Insanity Pomni): Now Pam is wild dog here, as she was another Pomni from an Au that literally chopped shopped her friends and the ai, leaving nothing but pieces and her doll girls head as that is truly crazy. Anyways, I took her in at first, but she tries to off me and dew. Luckily, we kicked her @ss and won. After she relaxed, I gave her a new look as she looks more like a ringleader now with a hat. She still crazy but I like it in a chick. She and dew fight a lot as they try to off one another, but I stop them by hitting them both in the head or just winning the two off by the fight. She is good with knifes but is always over kill, so I give her a mallet to make sure that she uses it then the knifes. Pam is sort of a silly but crazy gal as she would be just playing games as a child and sometimes likes to eat snacks, especially the ones from the carnival. When she isn't training, she plays in the band as she was good when doing the guitar or drums more, which I maybe need to switch dew with the guitar then drums.

Cali (Aka Jester Mime Pomni): And lastly we got Cali, now....I ain't got nothing for her as she sort of a mime from an Au of mimes, which I clearly don't understand. We sort of taken her a fan/prison, but later on I changed it up and let her join the crew. Cause what I know about her is that she has some crazy abilities, and that's by making invisibles walls and items, cause one time I ask her to do it to dew and he was stuck in a box for a while or two and it was hilarious. Anyways, I gave cali a new look and name as I train her to fight, show her the moves or two and try to see if she could take down the other two....which failed, but I still think she got it. Anyways, after the training I taught her to play in me for some music of rock, and was pretty good at the bass so I gave her that sort of role to fit her style. She don't talk much, but shows some emotions from time to time. (P.S. I also gave her a tail, cause she kind of looks cute with one- Dew get out of my room!) But yeah, that's Cali.

#the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus au #gooseworx #tadc fanart #digital circus au #au #tadc pomni #artists on tumblr #sketch art #bad sans gang #bad sanses

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mycharusahal2211-blog · 2 years

Text

Every Last Word: Book Review

Samantha McAllister, a junior at her high school, is considered to be just like her popular friends- glamorous and 'normal'. But she isn't. Samantha (or Sam, as she likes to be called) does not consider herself normal because of the secret she hides. For as long as she has known them, Sam has kept her purely obsessional Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD)- which consumer all her thoughts, all the time- from her friends because they would surely not understand her situation.

So, when Caroline, her new closest friend, introduces her to a secret poetry group at their school called "Poet's Corner"- where she can freely express herself and learns how to stand up for herself, she's all in!

Little does she know that Caroline meant it when she said that it would turn her world upside down..

Every Last Word by Tamara Ireland Stone has definitely been a riveting read for me! It had moments that seemed distinctly young adult-like, but it also had other times when the writing was so meaningful, insightful, and perceptive that it seemed to go beyond the typical teenage and high school clichés (that give YA its bad rep) it includes in its plot.

I've read almost 80 novels about teens or high school, according to my reading journal for this year- considering that's only one of the genres I've read, that's a significant number! This is why I can state with certainty that it's a rare day indeed that I come across a young adult novel in this genre with an overly emotional storyline and even more overly sentimental dialogues. Seriously there were a few quotes from the characters in the book that I found to be really appealing as a reader: “You look around at the people in your life, one by one, choosing to hold on to the ones who make you stronger and better, and letting go of the ones who don't.” and “I didn’t go there looking for you. I went looking for me. But now, here you are, and somehow, in finding you, I think I’ve found myself.”

The book focuses on the protagonist Samantha's life and the challenges she faces with her OCD, all while connecting it to everyday problems faced as a teenager involving friendships and relationships- considering this is the age group Tamara aims to appeal to. This book offered excellent explanations of the issues covered and offered me a genuine understanding of what it's like to have such little control over your thoughts as someone who knows nothing about this condition. Although, I do think that more instances of her sickness should have been mentioned; halfway through the book, her disorder was barely portrayed and got buried under the teenage issues presented. Her condition was rarely mentioned halfway through the novel and was overshadowed by the teenage troubles that were discussed. This could have been better, because there were moments when I almost forgot that Sam had OCD! (So, if OCD-related storyline was your preferred theme, I'd recommend reading Teresa Toten's The Unlikely Hero of Room 13B). Personally, I can't help but dwell on a flaw I notice while reading something, no matter how tiny. For example, it bothered me that Sam had kept her OCD a secret from her closest friends for more than ten years, despite the fact that she spends all of her time with them; in some cases, OCD-related behavioural symptoms are difficult to conceal, such as Sam's obsession with the number three, which causes her to scratch the back of her neck three times among other behaviours. Again, I have to mention that I am no expert in this field and so, I'm not aware if this is true for all cases!

Additionally, I commend the author for the novel's ingenious use of a flashback that Sam didn't particularly want to be reminded of. It presents Samantha and the roles that individuals play in her life with regard to OCD in a way that proves a point- the book will have you interested until the very end.

A major plot- twist occurs after around 4/5th of the book, which I truly loved as someone who adores nothing more than a protagonist experiencing a life-changing 'AHA' moment! I can't talk about this directly since I don't want to give the plot away, but I had a tiny quibble with the narrative surprise because it didn't particularly have to do with Sam's purely- obsessional OCD. But I should also point out that the book's later sections, which revealed how Sam was dealing were quite emotional (yes, I cried!) and helped readers develop a connection with it.

I understand that some people who may be struggling with this mental illness would find the portrayal in this book to be unrealistic, and I can see how different readers might be split on their perspectives of some of the topics given. I will say, I feel that it was handled better in this book than in others I have read in the past- I think Tamara Ireland Stone did a wonderful job of expressing this important subject to the readers in a lovely way.

Without a doubt, I'd recommend this book to any teen who is interested in the topics it explores, as well as to any interested adult. There’s something really special and unique to this story that defies the boundaries of age gaps and will have me remembering it for months to come!

#book review

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babyboibucky · 3 years

Text

The Match - Part 8

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You get a preview of what it’s like to be working with Mackenzie.

Warnings: I apologize as there is no smut in here lmfao but there is a stubborn Bucky lols

A/N: The jitters just never go away whenever I post a new part for this ajkcnjasncakjcnakj I find this part boring tbh but uhh things will start picking up again in the next part I promise

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky decided to push through with his partnership with Wilson Enterprises. It was a big one, so it definitely required the entire team's effort and perseverance. Apparently, this is the company's biggest, most major project yet so this was going to look really good in your resume. It would also provide you with more credibility to further excel in your career.

Except that Bucky actually hired a marketing consultant to take over the entire project as his revenge.

"Any questions? About the project or about Kenzie?" Bucky asked, standing in front of the conference room, next to Mackenzie.

You confidently raised your hand when no one else did. Bucky tilted his head, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew you were affected, of fucking course you were!

"Yes?" he called out.

You stood up and sighed softly, "I mean this in the most respectful way, Mister Barnes." you said, emphasizing his name. "But as the head of marketing, what exactly is my role here? Given that Mackenzie was hired to spearhead the marketing aspect of this project." you said, giving Mackenzie a passive aggressive smile.

"I don't want to overstep on some boundaries here, that's why I'm asking. I just want clarity, that's all." you said.

Bucky was about to respond when Mackenzie stopped him, grabbing his arm and squeezing it before taking over the floor. You narrowed your eyes at how her slender fingers were wrapped around Bucky's arm.

"Honey..." Mackenzie started. "There's nothing to worry about, this is a collaborative work between you and I. So think of yourself as my assistant, someone to help me out with the project." she responded.

Bitch.

"I'm not an assistant, Mackenzie." you said, smiling at her.

Mackenzie laughed, "I'm sorry, my bad. I shouldn't have used that term. Oops." she said. "Although, I believe I have more experience in this area so maybe consider me a mentor?" she suggested.

Bitch!

Bucky cleared his throat, "If you have certain ideas, you can discuss it with her. She is a consultant after all. Given her impressive experience in the field, I'm sure you'll learn a thing or two from her."

The meeting was wrapped up by noon and you simply couldn't wait to get yourself out of the conference room. You didn't feel like talking to Bucky anymore in all honesty, not after what he was doing. You knew this was just to spite you, get you to cave in first and give in to him.

All the more that you wouldn't, especially not when he actually used your job against you.

Everyone started rushing out of the conference room, ready to head out for lunch. As soon as you reached the doorway, you overheard the short conversation between Bucky and Mackenzie.

"Hey Bucky, we still up for lunch?"

The bathroom was empty when you stepped inside and thank god for that because you couldn't hold back your emotions any further. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes, not because you were hurt. Fuck no, you were angry and frustrated. So fucking angry at yourself for getting into this mess, at Bucky for being such an entitled prick, at the entire world for plotting against you.

You groaned in irritation as you wiped away your tears, sniffing as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You worked your ass off for this job, for your position. You risked your dignity when you let Bucky fuck you. You weren't going to let someone take that away from you.

You quickly fixed yourself when the door opened, followed by the loud clacking of someone's heels.

"Omg, are you crying?" Beverly gasped, rushing over to you.

You snickered, "No." you lied, "My eyes are itchy." you huffed out before noticing that Beverly was holding a sandwich in her hand.

"Why did you bring your sandwich here?" you curiously asked.

Beverly shrugged, "The pantry's full and the other girls don't exactly seem to like me...so..."

You shook your head and sighed, "Come with me, let's have lunch out. I need to get out of this fucking place anyway."

"Yay, omg! I knew you were nice! You're like, the only girl who actually talked to me nicely." Beverly said, tagging behind you as you exited the bathroom.

"Oh, there you are!" Mark called out. "I was looking for you. Wanna grab lunch? Oh...who's this?" he asked, noticing the blonde girl trailing behind you.

"I'm Beverly! I'm Sir James' new secretary." she introduced excitedly.

You sighed, "Don't ask me why." you said when Mark turned to you with a confused look, still not sure what happened to Bucky's previous secretary.

"So, lunch out? With Bev?" you asked.

You were completely zoning out during lunch despite the ongoing conversation between Mark and Bev, something about yoga? You honestly couldn't care less, not when you were feeling so conflicted about your current situation.

Would Bucky actually go that far just to get you back? Or does he actually hate you for saying no to him and is basically using his authority to make your life a living hell?

"So I heard about the new girl." Mark said, that snapped you out of your trance.

"Huh?" you asked.

"I find it weird for Mister Barnes to hire someone when you're here." Mark pointed out. "I mean, are you okay with that or..."

You snorted, "Fuck no. Look, I'm not gonna be the bigger person here. I was offended as fuck." you admitted.

"Yeah, it's super weird because she was hired through Tinder or something. Is that even legal?" Beverly pointed out as she scrolled through her phone.

You and Mark turned to her abruptly, "Tinder? Wait, what?" you asked.

Beverly chuckled, "I heard them talking this morning and Kenzie was like, 'It's so funny that we matched on Tinder and ended up doing business there you know' and I'm like omg Sir James has Tinder and I have one too but I never saw him there, bummer."

"Motherfucker." you hissed out.

Mark made a face, "Are you okay?" he carefully asked. "You've been really tensed since last week."

Apparently, Bucky never deleted his Tinder and have been swiping right on women. And that's how he met Mackenzie who just happened to be a marketing consultant. Now you were just furious, was he fucking her too? Has he been fucking other women this entire time?

"Hey, Bev..." you said, a plan hatching inside your mind. "Can I ask you a favor?" you asked nicely.

Beverly nodded, "Um duh, you're basically my office BFF now."

"If you ever hear Mister Barnes and Mackenzie talk about hmm, I don't know...something interesting. Maybe about the project...me 'cause you know, I'm the head of marketing and Mackenzie’s in the same field...let me know, will ya?" you asked.

Mark chuckled nervously, "I don't know what's going on but isn't that an invasion of privacy?"

"She's not going to eavesdrop, Mark. She'll just...listen closely." you explained.

"Bev might get in trouble if Mister Barnes finds out." Mark warned.

You waved a hand, "She'll be fine, Mark. She's his secretary, she has to know everything. Besides, I'm not going to let her get in trouble, if she does then I'll take care of it."

Beverly squealed in delight, "Omg, you are not my office BFF. You're like my office mom! You and Mark are literally my office parents." she said, lifting her phone up in the air.

"Selfie! This one goes to the 'gram." she said, taking a quick photo of the three of you.

She then proceeded to edit the photo while you and Mark continued eating lunch.

"Bev, you should really put your phone away and eat first. We have less than half an hour left for lunch break." Mark called out.

Beverly groaned and rolled her eyes, "Way to get into the role, Mark. You're such a dad."

You snorted, "Yeah. Loosen up, daddy." you teased.

"Playing family after just one date, huh."

Bucky's presence in the same restaurant should've really intimidated you, most especially that he just witnessed you tease Mark like that. But you were too mad at him to even care, what was the point even? He didn't believe you even when you told him the truth that Mark was just a friend.

Why even try now?

"Hi Sir James." Beverly greeted happily.

"Mister Barnes." Mark acknowledged.

Bucky ignored them and kept his eyes on you. You didn't falter under his gaze and simply stared back at him with blank eyes. It's as if a staring competition took place when the both of you merely looked at each other, neither of you looking away nor attempting to do so.

"How was that date last Friday, Jim?" Bucky asked, his eyes still trained on yours.

Mark made a funny face at the name that Bucky called him but shrugged anyway. Before he could even respond, you decided to answer on his behalf. If Bucky wanted to spite you, you'd give him a taste of his own medicine.

"It was actually great. We might go on another one this Friday." you said.

"We are?" Mark asked in a whisper.

Bucky's hand landed on Mark's shoulder, "Don't count on it, Andrew. She's going to be doing a lot of work on Friday due to the project." he said through gritted teeth.

You shrugged, "Oh, but I thought Mackenzie's doing all my work?"

"I'm ready to head back, Buck."

Speak of the devil herself. Mackenzie weaved through the tables and approached Bucky, her face brightening up when she saw you, Mark and Beverly.

"Oh, hey you." she greeted you. "Look, I think we may have started off on the wrong foot earlier. I'm not here to take your job, just here to spice things up a bit. Improve your ideas, give Bucky some assistance." she chuckled, holding onto Bucky's arm yet again.

You fought back the urge to grab your glass of water and throw it at her face. As the saying goes, kill them with kindness. So you merely shrugged and extended an arm for a handshake.

"Of course. I would love to improve your ideas as well, you know. Just a healthy discourse between two marketing professionals. We good?" you said.

Mackenzie forced out a chuckle and reached for your hand, "We’re good. I look forward to working with you." she said before turning back to Bucky who was still gazing at you.

"Let's go?" she asked sweetly.

Bucky smirked at you before wrapping an arm around Mackenzie's waist, guiding her out of the restaurant the same way he did to you. You were too focused on Bucky's body language around Mackenzie that you failed to notice that Mark was watching you closely, your expressions and how you reacted towards Bucky.

"I think I know what's happening."

"You what?!"

"Shhh!" you hushed Mark and peeked out of the empty pantry to make sure the coast was clear.

Mark noticed the tension between you and Bucky and he came to a conclusion that the both of you dated at one point. He wasn't really wrong but he wasn't right either. So you decided to tell him everything, from the moment you matched with Bucky on Tinder until your last conversation with him last Saturday.

"I honestly thought you were dating, I didn't know there was sex involved. No wonder he had been calling me weird names." he said incredulously. "Was that you and Mister Barnes that Janet reported to the HR?" he asked, stifling his laughter.

You groaned, "Yes. Ugh, gave me a panic attack when I found out about that incident report." you said.

"Hey..." Mark called out. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this. Your secret is safe with me." he reassured.

You nodded, "I think it was about time that I told someone about us anyway. This whole situation is driving me crazy and I don't know what to do next. And I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess, I shouldn't have said that we were going out again. I don't want you or your job getting compromised because of our petty fight." you exhaled.

You had to admit, you felt so much better now after confiding with Mark. It somewhat alleviated the weight on your shoulders, knowing that there was someone aware of what you were going through. Who would've thought that this person would end up being Mark? You did have friends outside of work of course, but you felt like they all wouldn't really understand the situation.

Half would hate you for rejecting Bucky and the other half would hate you for even swiping right on him.

"Do you mind an unsolicited advice?" Mark asked.

"Not at all." you said.

"Ignore him. Don't let him or Mackenzie get to you. Do what you do best, you're great at your job and you'll be fine. That might get him to realize that you're not a prize to be won. And if he still doesn't see that, then that's his loss. You're more than just that hot marketing girl at work." Mark said.

You laughed at his last statement, "Hot marketing girl at work?" you asked, shaking your head.

"It's true. So if in any case you decide to ditch the CEO and move on, you know where to find me." he joked, throwing a wink your way.

You wanted to finish all your reports so you could focus on the huge project so you decided to work until around nine in the evening. The floor was already empty by the time you were done. Bucky seemed to be working too, given that he was still replying to e-mails at this hour. Wanting to get all the reports over with, you decided to submit it to him before going home.

During the elevator ride to Bucky’s floor, you couldn’t help but wonder whether he was alone in the office. Would Mackenzie be there with him? Even at this hour? Your grip on the folder tightened at the thought of catching them in the act.

But did you have any right to feel this way though?

Brushing off the thoughts, you exhaled loudly and prepared yourself for whatever it was you were to witness. Upon reaching the door to Bucky’s office, you slightly turned your head to listen to anything. It was quiet. No hushed whispers nor strained grunts-- they weren’t fucking, thank goodness for that.

You decided not to knock and just walk inside like you used to, reminding yourself of Mark’s advice.

Don’t let Bucky get to you.

When you saw Bucky hunched over his desk, typing away on his e-mails instead of bending a certain brunette somewhere in his office, you had to admit that you were relieved. He looked up and his eyes looked dead tired, you almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“You should really learn how to knock.” Bucky called out, slamming his laptop shut.

“Look, Bucky. I was just rushing to submit these reports so I can go home.” you explained and placed the folder on top of his desk.

Bucky frowned, “I said to call me Mister Barnes.”

You huffed out, “I honestly don’t care, Bucky. I’m not playing your damn games anymore.” you said and turned around.

A hand on your arm pulled you back, harshly turning you around to face Bucky. He was fuming, as usual. At this point, you were no longer fazed.

“You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?” he asked.

You clenched your jaw and pulled your arm back, “I’m not doing anything. You bring in Beverly or Mackenzie or whoever it is that you have up your sleeve. I don’t fucking care. I just want to focus on work.” you said and stepped away.

“And you should too, Bucky.” you added.

“I don’t believe you.” he said.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping from exhaustion at this whole shenanigan. “I’m done, Bucky.”

And with that you turned around to exit his office, leaving Bucky unsure whether you truly meant what you said. A victorious smirk graced your lips as you walked back to the elevator.

You were far from done.

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag @weird-mumbling @propertyofpoeandbucky @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @mostly-marvel-musings @squishybabies @megzdoodle @suchababie @annathesillyfriend @xhollycowx @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @5-seconds-of-mendes @gogolucky13 @countonthesun @iloveshawnieboi @learisa @borikenlove @scarlet-natasha89

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @im-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @whoth3hellisbucky

#bbb writes #the match #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #fem!reader #sebastian stan

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

Hey! Could I request a fic where the reader and Bucky like each other and she has to pretend she’s Zemo’s girlfriend for the Madripor mission? Bucky gets jealous and all that jazz and they confess their feelings :)

Madripoor Muse

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | Bucky harbours feelings for you, but despite Sam’s inflatable encouragement, refuses to inform you of them. However, seeing you pretend to be Zemo’s girlfriend whilst on a mission, more so when the criminal knows what strings he is pulling at, happens to infuriate him inevitably.

Warnings | jealousy, violence, references to sex work (there is nothing wrong with it, everyone is free to do what they want or need to do to get by, angst, mentions of death, grief, smut, unprotected sex, fluff, swearing

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

“I mean, if he looks like a pimp, then I look like one of his workers.” Sam snorted at your words, as Bucky’s eyes trailed down the skin that was exposed through the small piece of fabric, that in modern days, was considered a dress.

Zemo simply sighed at the pair of you, shaking his head as though the former winter soldier would understand his point. “It’s Madripoor, not an american graduation. You are not going to be clothed in long robes in this place, expression is in the body, and how it is clothed.”

“Or not clothed.” Bucky retorted, frowning at how you shuffled beneath the criminal’s gaze, crossing your arms, which definitely did not help the situation, considering that it did nothing more than make your breasts rise. Admitting defeat, you let them fall, holding them to your sides, outlining your hips, which once more, was not how you wished to be portrayed as you walked through the illuminated air, careful to keep pace in your heels.

“We all have a part to play, winter soldier.” Helmut spoke, his accent causing waves to ripple through the euphoria of lights that lay up ahead. “I am me, you are you, Sam is the Smiling Tiger, and...”

“I’m a hooker?” Once more, Zemo showed disappointment, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turned to you. It seemed that tonight, you, a smart and well coordinated avenger, was absolutely adoring testing his patience, but that was his trick.

He was the captive here, forced to help the forsaken superheroes that had prompted him with the idea of escaping from the government’s ensured facility. And it was without a doubt that he would mess with their minds each chance that he got.

“No, think of yourself as more personalised to one person than that y/n. Your as you people say ‘arm candy’.” He used quotations with his fingers, causing you to reach for Sam’s arm to assume the role. “Oh no, not his.” Zemo made a come here motion, making you gulp.

“You’re kidding, right?” Bucky huffed, glaring unimpressed towards the Baron, who only tutted in reply, implying that he indeed was serious. “This is stupid.”

“Stupid would be allowing this hurrah of new age super soldiers to continue their war path, don’t you think James?” Zemo asked condescendingly, holding his arm out for you to grasp onto, so that you would look more than an associate, or a serum induced bodyguard.

“Me posing as your sugar baby is stupid.” You muttered, as you walked, Bucky on look out behind you, as he glared frustratedly at where you and the mass murderer were touching.

Zemo tugged you by the arm for the comment, causing you to roll your eyes at the man that had tried his best and succeeded, at destroying your team; your family. Nevertheless, you followed his stride, well aware of the sharp eyes of the man behind you.

As you entered the club, a spectrum of blue lights illuminated your skin, as you stared around in wander. There was a variety of all didn’t people, born from different virtues, wealths and races all intermingling around in the space.

If Zemo didn’t have a leash on your arm, you’d have stared for a little longer, perhaps even gotten purposely lost in the sea of bodies that flashed with such ambition and prospect. All were designed to suit their surroundings, and you wished that you could fit in that easily too.

But you were lost, roped into this journey by the Falcon, the man that denied Steve’s wishes and passed on the shield to firmer hands, still uncertain of where you were planning on going. What you needed was a fight, a reason to keep roaming upon the earth. If you came up empty, you may have well have taken up Thor’s offer, and accompanied him with his new friends.

The avengers were disbanded, dotted with different services. You’d heard nothing from Wanda, it appeared that her phone had been cut off, leaving you gravely confused, but you understood that she needed time to mourn. But you couldn’t give yourself the same pampering, if you did so, then all purpose of life would slip through your fingers, and you’d be left vulnerable, a hero that willingly fell from their graces.

Finally you reached the bar, with the shadow of the winter soldier hovering over your shoulder, watching as Zemo’s untrustworthy hand trailed along your furthest collarbone, using it as his sway to grab your attention. He set his sights upon his touch, glaring harshly at it.

No one would question the expression that he wore, it was only natural for his reputation to be proceeded with such a dagger like gaze; he was supposed to be playing the killer that he once was after all.

“My lady, what would you like to drink?” Helmut asked, turning your gaze towards his, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forbidding you from even try to look away from his sly eyes.

“White wine will do the trick, my love.” The words felt like spew falling from your mouth, but you withheld the impulse to grimace, instead, flashing him a flirtatious smile, fanning his face with your eyelashes as you were still held to face him.

“Fine choice.” He smirked, nodding towards the bartender, who had just presented the Smiling Tiger imposter with a shot that had the intestines of a snake floating around in its liquid. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Sam hesitated to drink it for a moment, before throwing it down the hatch, treating it as an old trick.

Madripoor, for an island trapped in violence, didn’t appear that bad on the outside. That was, until the shooting began, causing the lot of you to leg it from the citizens targeting their rifled hardware towards you, running with your lives depending on it.

You had temporarily lost Zemo, as you put head your own safety, your pace and spot being just between Sam and Bucky, as the first man’s arms flailed as he insisted that he could not run in the heels that he was wearing. Huh, you’d be running in heels all your life, maybe he shoulda learned how to do so earlier, it came as a great talent.

Gunshots rang out, as a hooded figure unveiled themselves, introducing the older face of a blonde that you had once knew. It had been quite some time since you had last seen her, all having gone your separate ways to evade the law, and its cruel jurisdiction. “Sharon?” Bucky spoke, instantly recognising the woman that had aided them in the past.

Once you were all reintroduced, and met with her annoyance, which was surely understandable, she led you to her property, where you were able to part from the Sokovian, and share your distaste to the man, as well as remove the skimpy dress.

It pooled at your feet as you tossed it from your ankle, leaving you in nothing more than your underwear. As you squinted, searching for some reason that you were continuing with this foolishness of thinking that the world still considered you a hero, an echo of a knock rattled against the door. It was metal upon wood; Bucky.

“Come in.” You spoke, as you tied a spare robe around your waist, watching as the super soldier, who appeared less stoic, and more human stepped into the room, closing the door behind his emerging shadow. “You alright man?”

Bucky’s eyes drifted down for a moment, before they splintered back up towards your face, his jaw physically tensing, the notion well visible. He breathed in a long breath through his nose, as he stepped closer, his brow harsh and lined upon his forehead.

“I didn’t like Zemo putting his filthy hands on you.” He admitted aloud, the words of Sharon, teasing him for pining after someone that he had once thought of as no more than a friend of Steve’s. But now that man was gone, and so was the one that he used to be. Instead, he was left standing on his own feet, having to find balance by himself somehow.

“Neither did I.” You informed him. “It was like he was pulling back the images of his collapsing country, pouring every ounce of pain and hatred upon me, evading my mind with guilt, and the memories of what it all amounted to. None of it had been worth it, living like this. We’re treated like animals, no longer idols or heroes, people under the big thumb that keeps pressing down on us.”

“Well we’re both pressed down, limited to our rules and the outlines they want us to obey.” He nodded, raising his flesh hand to your collarbone, wanting to mark his touch upon it to remove that of Zemo’s. At his action, your breath hitched, but you allowed him to sweep his pads over the flesh, shuffling indefinitely closer so that you were chest to chest.

“We’re dangerous in their eyes. That’s a mindset they have in common with our prisoner out there.” You whispered, frowning from the thought. Two monarchies, one still whilst the other already fallen, served the same opinions, though, only one could continue to take action. Zemo was a Baron, but of what country now?

Like all, his home had been vanquished into smithereens, the foundations collapsing into rubble, the history disappearing with its lands, having thrown its dusty remnants in your face.

“I’m fine with being considered dangerous so long as I’m not alone.” He pinched your chin, tilting your head, this time though, you felt in his grasp. It didn’t belong to that of an enemy, it was one of an ally, a friend. “Tell me I’m not alone y/n.”

“I’m here James.” You stared up at him with focused pools, biting your lip as your mind went haywire over everything. “The Wakandans will come for him, you do realise that, right?” He hummed in reply, briskly bringing his metal hand to toy with the belt of the white wrap around.

“Do you think that you could show me that I’m not alone?” He nervously asked, shuffling his weight from foot to foot, as he awaited a reply. But instead of words, he earned himself the sensation of your lips upon his, collaborating in a touch starved jumble of grunts. “You’re beautiful, like...”

“Like what Barnes?” You prompted, brushing your palms onto his shoulders, easing his tenseness. Expectedly, you watched him through half lidded eyes as you leant up to plant supple kisses upon his neck, sucking his skin into your mouth, as though you were trying to thread it gently with your teeth.

“A muse.” He sighed, thinking for a momentum, before dragging your hair through his vibranium fist, lightly grinning as he heard your breath wither from the sensation. “A beautiful muse, one that reminds me to be better everyday. I want to become someone better for you.”

“You shouldn’t.” You unlatched your mouth from him, frowning lightly at the brunette man. “You should become better for nobody but yourself Buck, each day, it’s about self growth, fixing everything that you have ever been taught so that you can learn to do better next time, so that no one else will die because of your expense.”

Bucky nodded, allowing your words to sink in. His fingers returned to playing with the waist band on your robe, his eyes gazing into your own, as he fiddled with the material. “Can I?”

“Go ahead.” You granted him permission, allowing him to push the coverage from you, his eyes widening at seeing you in nothing more than your underwear. His sight traced every curve and bump and dip that was upon your shape, licking his dry lips to make his gawking less subtle.

“You’re killing me doll.” He leant his head back, as he raked his contrasting fingertips down your shoulders, all the way to the small of your back. You smirked, grasping him through his jeans, earning yourself a moan from the elder man.

“I said it’s all about self growth, didn’t I? It seems that you are taking that in quite a literal sense.” You rubbed him through the denim, finding it unsurprising as the man backed you towards the bed, your knees hitting the end sending you falling onto the mattress.

Bucky crawled his way atop of you, rutting his hips against your own. It had been so long since he had been permitted to be this free, and he knew for sure, this would be a secret that he would not inform any therapist of. This was private, the sentiment making it close to his weathered heart.

His lips returned to your own, as your hands scaled beneath your shirt, lightly tracing the scars. He wasn’t as insecure as he thought he’d be about someone touching them, perhaps it was because many of your own materialised stories were written in your skin, or that you understood what it meant to be a soldier, serving under orders.

It didn’t matter too much, he wasn’t overthinking it. Instead, he was yearning as he grasped at the straps of your bra, trying to pull it over your head, as was done with the dames back in his day, but the effort seemed more difficult. Lightly leaning away from him, you reached around your back, unclamping the contraption before tossing it out of his sight.

He didn’t care to ask what the modern day had done to the garment, he was far too focused on your pert nipples, and how they stood to attention before him. The super soldier reached forwards, running his smooth hands upon the underneath of your breasts, before interacting with the present buds, softly tugging at them with his whimsical fingers.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Released from you as a sign, instantly becoming pleased as Bucky stripped himself from everything but his underwear, leaving a nest of his clothes upon the wooden floor, as he leant his head down, capturing your left nipple within the warmth of his mouth, moaning lightly as your hands weaved through his locks, tugging lightly at the short roots. “Stop teasing Buck.”

He didn’t miss the way your eyes roll from the slowness of motions, and thus, he reached down, and snapped the band of your underwear, the ripping noise audible, as he then pulled his boxers down, revealing his bobbing cock, that was directing its tip towards your entrance.

With a glance down, he lightly drooled at the way your cunt clenched around nothing, quickly swiping his fingers through your slit, as he brought them up to his lips, humming contently at the flavour that graced his tastebuds. “Need to be in you doll.”

“Need you in me soldier.” You taunted back, digging your knuckles into his shoulders as you pressed him against you, pushing your tongue into his mouth, as he suddenly bottomed out inside of you, waiting for a moment for the pair of you to adjust to the sensations.

He was in you, filling you to the brim, as you tucked your heels into the base of his back, lightly rotating your hips up, as your tongue chased his own, sucking on it as you nipped at the end, causing him to unintentionally jerk his rigid cock into you.

That had prompted him to start moving, screwing his hands into the satin sheets either side of your head, as your bodies succumbed the others to waves of pleasure. It was a luxury, having an outlet to all the stress that your duty brought. If you could just pass the mantle on like Steve had done, and Clint was in the process of doing, you would.

But it was all you had known; the gritty route, that had spanned the entirety of your tale. And Bucky now became a part of it, as he became a part of you, unravelling your vulnerabilities with sleek thrusts into your cunt, and smooth words that had swept you from your feet and had landed you in a bed.

A bed thats structure was creaking from the strength behind the animalistic carnage that you spent on one another. His teeth pulled at your lip, opening your mouth so that you could use him as an oxygen mask. Neither one of you had noticed the door opened, and an unimpressed Sharon standing in the entry way, her agent arms crossed unamused.

She cleared her throat, which made Bucky still inside of you, and you to clutch onto his back, to cover the decency of your chest. “You let me go on the run, then you fuck in my bed. It’s like I’m not allowed to belong anywhere.”

“Sharon-“ she halted your speech by raising a finger, her eyebrows pointedly telling you not to bother trying to speak, as sweat beading down your body. Bucky subtly rolled from atop of you, quickly pulling the sheets over you both, giving Sharon views that she neither wanted nor appreciated.

That was grittiness, she was a hustler, not a once avenger. A part of you wished she would understand that, as much as it would be painful to hear, she hadn’t been the top of anyone’s list. She had disappeared, and from so, she had became unreachable, practically falling off the face of the earth.

But she had been here, in Madripoor, the island of bones and whatever else Zemo had described it to be. “You two fucked in my bed. Okay.” She remained cool headed, her eyes trailing through the various fabrics among her floor. “Thought I’d tell you to get ready, and to blend in, though you two have that part already figured out. There’s some clothes in the wadrobe, and from what I can tell, you’re going to need new underwear.”

She bothered no longer once she had informed you of what she had told the other men. Instead she simply left, only for you to brace your head back into the quality pillows, slumping, and dreading the journey ahead.

Though you seemed restless, Bucky still thought of you as a muse. His hands grasped your chin, leading your lips to his own, as he sucked on your bottom one, his right hand grasping one of your breasts, as he pulled you atop of him, your skin flushed as you steadied your weight over his tough thighs.

“Now this is a dangerous sight.” He clicked his teeth, trailing his large hand down from your jaw, surpassing the middle of your chest, to your hip, which he grasp, as he shuffled you up just a little, so that you were seated upon the base of his cock.

“I can show you dangerous Barnes.” You smirked, adjusting the both of you so you were ready to sink down on his length. Your hands softly stroked his erect shaft, as you tapped his tip upon your pussy, before pushing down, filling yourself up one more.

Madripoor was a bad place, but good things could come out of visiting the skull island. This was the job, though, breaks were prompted, and were you glad that Bucky had became your little bit of calm in the arising trouble in the world.

“Fuck.” He groaned beneath you, his balls clenching as he felt you writhe all the way down to his base, beginning to bounce upon him, the years of training that you had endorsed coming in handy as it had helped your stamina. He was a super soldier after all, you were surely going to need it.

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seijorhi · 4 years

Text

Patience of a Saint

An Ushijima x virgin reader commission for the wonderful @hearteyes-candyskies, I hope you enjoy it, bby! 💕

Ushijima Wakatoshi x female reader

TW non-con, nsfw, smut, virgin reader

“Wait, you’re kidding me, right?”

Ushijima simply shrugs, “Why would I joke about something like that?”

Semi and Tendou share a glance, the former hiding a smirk behind the glass rim of his beer bottle. Tendou had been the one to drag them both downtown for ramen in the middle of the night, an impromptu reunion of sorts, now that the volleyball season had wrapped up and Tendou was back in Sendai.

Perhaps his first mistake had been to allow his friend the option to stay with him instead of booking a hotel. Though, truth be told, Tendou would have undoubtedly monopolised his time regardless of where he was staying, and Ushijima would have allowed him to.

They were friends, after all, and that was what friends did. He was just glad that Semi had been roped in alongside him.

When and how the conversation had steered towards his relationship with you, more specifically the details regarding your bedroom exploits together, Ushijima isn’t entirely sure, but he has no reason to lie to his friends.

The disbelieving look on Tendou’s face, however, makes him wonder if he’s said something wrong. “You mean to tell me that you’ve been dating this girl for how many months now, and you haven’t actually slept together yet?”

At that, Ushijima shakes his head. “We’ve slept together,” he corrects, taking a sip of his own beer. He likes sleeping with you, finds an odd sense of comfort he’s never felt before, waking up to find you curled against his side.

Most mornings Ushijima has no trouble getting out of bed for an early start. He’s found that lately, at least on the nights you stay over, that’s no longer the case.

The snort from his right is abruptly cut off into a choking cough as Semi tries and fails to mask his amusement. “He means sex, dude. You haven’t fucked her yet, have you?”

“No.”

The loud cackles from the ex-middle blocker are enough to draw the attention of several other patrons, but Tendou pays them no mind. “Why the hell not? Is she hideously ugly or something?”

“Nope,” Semi answers in his stead, a little too quickly for Ushijima’s liking. But he supposes he cannot blame his friend for noticing your attractiveness. You are, of course, beautiful - he’s told you many times.

A lone, red eyebrow quirks, glittering amusement dancing across Tendou’s face, “Are you… are you having trouble performing, big guy?”

Semi almost chokes on his mouthful, and even Ushijima feels the tips of his ears flush red. “No,” he asserts with a frown. “She…” he pauses, unsure for the first time whether this might be a line that he’s crossing to reveal something so personal between the two of you.

It’s not like he hasn’t discussed sex with them before. He has an almost uncomfortable amount of knowledge regarding the girls the redhead has been with, and Semi is no better.

(Semi was actually far, far worse.)

And truth be told he’s never been shy to share his own exploits with his friends, either. You might be the first girl that Ushijima’s ever loved, but love is not a necessary requirement for sex. He ensured that his partners left satisfied and so did he, there wasn’t anything more to it than that.

But you mean something to him. You mean everything.

“She… wants to wait,” he says quietly. “She’s-”

Tendou’s red eyes widen, his face transforming into an expression of delighted surprise as he puts it all together. “She’s a virgin?!”

“Hey, dumbass,” Semi grunts, smacking his old friend over the back of his head, “you wanna say that a little louder? I don’t think the entire restaurant heard you.”

Tendou waves off his admonishment with a flick of his wrist, his attention firmly fixed on the ace. “So I was right then? You found yourself a cute, innocent little virgin for a girlfriend?”

Ushijima doesn’t reply, he doesn’t need to.

He can still remember the scared look on your face the first time you stopped him, the way your hands shook and your pretty eyes filled with tears as you explained. Did you truly believe he would leave you over something as simple as that?

While he might have been… somewhat disappointed, he understood. He loves you, he’s known that for a while. He could be patient, wait for you to become accustomed to him, wait for you to get over your fears and apprehension.

Not that you make it easy for him. He knows you aren’t teasing him on purpose with low cut dresses and too short skirts, cuddling close in bed at night just so you can grind your ass against the swell of his cock, you’re too innocent for such things.

But that doesn’t make it any easier to ignore the heat that pools in his gut, the stirrings of desire and twitch of his cock every time you bend over in front of him and he’s rewarded with a perfect view. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s had to excuse himself to the bathroom, bracing himself against the wall, bent over and fisting his cock to the mental image of you spread out naked, desperate and begging before him.

“Wait, wait, hold up. I’m still a bit ticked off that you’ve been dating this girl for months and managed to hide her from me, your very best friend. I wanna see pics!”

Ushijima exhales, “You will meet her tomorrow-”

But it’s a fruitless endeavour, as Semi’s already scrolling through his phone to pull up your social media. Dutifully he passes it across the table, and Ushijima can only watch as Tendou’s eyes widen and a wicked grin creeps across his face.

“You, my big, beautiful, brawny friend, have the patience of a saint. My condolences.”

—

He meets you the very next day, and there’s a strange feeling in Ushijima’s chest as he watches you collapse into a fit of giggles at Tendou’s joke, the redhead’s arm slung casually over your shoulders.

He’s pleased that you get along with his old friends, it’s not something he’s ever had to concern himself with with his previous partners. They were nothing more than blips on a radar - not necessarily one night stands, but hardly worth introducing to the people who matter most to Ushijima.

Yet he can’t help but linger on Tendou’s comment from the night before.

You hadn’t told him that you were waiting for marriage. It wasn’t a religious vow you’d taken. It was just that you weren’t ready for sex yet. You asked for time.

And he’d understood. Your relationship was new, and he supposed that for your first time he was perhaps intimidating. You were shy. Nervous.

It was to be expected.

But hasn’t he proven by now that he can be gentle? That he loves you, and he has absolutely no intention of leaving you? You’re the only one he wants to be with - the only one he’ll ever want to be with. If you’re waiting for the right ‘one’ to lose your virginity to, what more does he have to do to convince you that he’s it?

Which makes him consider, watching you smile at him as you duck into his kitchen to grab some more snacks, whether you might not be as invested in this relationship as he is.

He doesn’t doubt that you love him, but even as you sidle up beside him, letting him tuck you to his side where you belong, he can’t help but question whether the true reason you haven’t allowed him to take you as he wants is because you’re still under the assumption that your relationship has an expiration date.

The thought doesn’t sit well with him.

Sex is separate from love, Ushijima knows that, but he’s also firmly of the belief that it can be an act of intimacy, an expression of love deeper than words or other actions can convey. He wants to feel that with you.

He wants to watch you writhing beneath him, your pussy squeezing around his cock, milking it for all it’s worth, lost in the ecstasy that only he can bring you.

He wants to know what sounds you’ll make, what pretty moans and gasps he can draw out from you as he fucks you within an inch of your sanity.

He wants to look in your eyes the first time he makes you cum, wants to take his time, to kiss you slowly, baptise you in pleasure and watch as you surrender yourself completely to the love he has for you.

Ushijima doesn’t have time to waste on romantic flings and relationships that will go nowhere. You are his future, so it does not make sense for you to keep holding yourself back where sex is concerned.

The sound of your laugh breaks through Ushijima’s musing and he’s pulled back to the present as you recount the story of how the two of you met to the redhead. He’s told Tendou before, but somehow the way you tell it made it sound better. You paint him in a better light, make yourself out to be the awkward one, stumbling over your apologies when it was his fault that you’d tripped in the first place.

You don’t have a clue about the weeks leading up to that moment, but it hardly matters. He’s content merely just to listen as you speak, your cheeks warming, long lashes fluttering as you glance up at him with that gentle smile of yours.

He loves you.

Across from the both of you, he catches the pointed look in Tendou’s eye-

It will be good for the both of you.

-and comes to a decision.

Unsurprisingly, the redhead just grins brightly when Ushijima corners him shortly afterwards, telling him that he will have to find somewhere else to stay for the night.

“No worries, I can crash at Semisemi’s,” he sings, rocking up onto the balls of his feet. “You two need your space, I get that.”

Ushijima nods, turning to leave, only for Tendou to reach out and stop him. “Yes?”

“You know, I kinda like her, Ushiwaka. Think she’ll be good for you, so try not to break her in two tonight, yeah?”

He frowns at the comment, causing Tendou to break into a fit of laughter.

By now, he should be used to his friend’s ribbing, but the thought of hurting you even as a joke doesn’t sit well with the ace.

To his credit, Tendou plays his role well. You all but beg him to stay for dinner, but he just mournfully shakes his head, sighing about Eita twisting his arm and forcing him to go watch him and his band play at some local bar.

And then, it’s just the two of you.

In hindsight, perhaps he should have put more effort into making this romantic for you. He’s never had to try with things like that before. He should have cooked dinner, and maybe considered candles and roses, or even music.

Instead, you order takeout and eat it sprawled across Ushijima’s lap, and he cannot find it within himself to mind. The most mundane activities are made better simply for you being by his side, he’s found.

He waits, fingers casually stroking along your arm as you curl up to his side to watch something on TV. You seem to be enjoying it, if the giggles that spill from your lips are anything to go by, but Ushijima finds himself distracted by the gnawing feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, an eagerness that has him twitching to act.

It doesn’t help that he’s all too aware of the softness of your body pressing against his.

But he won’t have your first time together be on his living room couch, of all places. He has enough patience to wait for weariness to set in, and when you yawn trying to muffle it against his shoulder, Ushijima almost smiles. “Why don’t we go to bed?”

You nod, and he presses a gentle kiss to your hair before helping you up.

He knows that you like to shower before sleeping, and while there’s a voice in his head that whispers for him to go and join you, Ushijima simply strips out of his clothes, sits on the edge of his bed and waits.

When you emerge from the steam, smelling faintly of the vanilla and citrus body wash he’d bought after the first night you’d stayed over, he stiffens. Instead of your usual sleeping attire (an old tee-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts) you’re clad solely in one of his fluffy towels, hair still damp, skin glistening with stray droplets of water.

“Hey, sorry I forgot my-” you pause, words trailing off as you take in the sight of your boyfriend, utterly naked. For a split second, you freeze in place, eyes wide and lips softly parted, like a deer caught in headlights.

And then, just as Ushijima moves to stand, you snap out of it.

“Oh my god!” you cry, whirling around and clutching the knot of your towel, hiding yourself from his view and burying your face in your hands. “I-I’m sorry!”

It’s rather adorable how flustered you get by something as natural as nakedness.

“Why wou- you know what, nevermind. I…uh, I forgot my clothes, they’re just on my bag I think, could you, um- could you please pass them to me?”

He spies them, folded neatly on the top of the overnight bag you’d packed. Instead, he reaches out to take your hand and gently tug you back towards him.

“Wakatoshi, what are you-” but your surprised protests are swallowed up as he leans down to kiss you. Yet instead of softening to his touch, allowing him to take the lead as he usually does, you stiffen in his arms, your hands finding their way to his bare chest, trying to push him away.

“Toshi, just- just stop for a second, please?” you gasp, managing to extricate yourself from the kiss.

That won’t do.

He has to be gentle with you, but with anticipation coiling in his gut, his cock stirring at the thought of your almost naked body pressed against his, it’s easy for him to forget his strength as he rids you of the offending material, bends down and hefts you up into his arms.

“Shh, little one,” he says, ignoring your shouts as he takes the three steps over to his bed so he can lay you down. “I know you’re scared, but you have no need to be. I won’t hurt you. I’m going to make us both feel good, I promise.”

He bestows another kiss against your forehead as he climbs over your trembling frame.

“Babe… Toshi, please- I-I’m not, I don’t-” your eyes are wide and filling with tears and you’re shaking your head - it fills him with a flicker of unease, but he knows deep down that this is just temporary.

You need this as much as he does, and once he shows you how wonderful he can make you feel, you’ll thank him.

Cradling your cheek with one large hand, he tries to tell you as much.

But your breath is coming in quick pants, your terrified eyes darting past his broad frame as if you’re trying to look for an escape route while pleas and whimpers spill almost incoherently from your lips, and he realises that words won’t be enough.

He’ll just have to show you.

“I love you,” he murmurs, kissing you once more before turning his attention to the rest of your body. It’s not the first time he’s seen you bared, of course, but it is the first time he’s been allowed the luxury of taking his time to enjoy it.

Your whimpers are soft and distressed as his lips trail down the column of your throat, resisting the urge to nip and suck at the tender skin, and you squirm under him when his mouth finds your breasts. The sounds you make for him, your choked little gasps only feed the pit of hunger deep inside of him. You must be able to feel his cock, big and thick, rutting up against your stomach, leaving a shining trail of oozing pre-cum across your skin as he busies himself playing with your tits.

They’re soft and pillowy, just the perfect size for his hands to grasp and knead, and the way that you keen for him, jerking a little when he sucks a nipple into his mouth and laves his tongue over the pebbling bud is utterly captivating. You’re so caught up in the attention he’s paying to your chest that you miss the hand that trails down your side, snaking between your trembling thighs.

At least until long, thick digits swipe along your folds.

Like a frightened little rabbit, your eyes widen and you jolt into action. “Wakatoshi, stop!” you cry, hands finding his chest once more to try and push him off of you, your legs kicking out uselessly beneath him.

His expression softens, his thumb sweeping against your thigh in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. “Shh, it’s okay. I need to prepare you to take me, otherwise it will hurt.”

If anything, your expression only becomes more panicked. “No, no, no, no-”

“Let me take care of my girl. You’ll feel good,” he murmurs, and already his fingers are sliding back to your pussy. You’re not as wet as he’d like, but it’s no matter, as his thumb finds your clit, his other fingers returning to tease at your entrance.

The soft little moan you try and fail to bite back as one finger slides inside of you sends a rush of blood straight to his cock. It twitches and throbs, aching for relief and perhaps if you were anybody else, he might throw caution to the wind and fuck you right then and there, regardless of whether you were ready or not.

But as you shiver, gasping as he curls the thick digit inside of you, he’s reminded that he needs to have patience. You are not worth rushing, and despite the feral beast inside of him that’s snapping and snarling to sink into your heat, he wants to savour this.

You only get one first time, and he’s determined to make yours unforgettable.

“That’s just one finger,” he tells you, his thumb circling your clit in slow, steady movements. “You’re going to take three before I can fuck you properly, understand?”

He doesn’t want to break you in half, after all.

You still writhe beneath him, shaking and jolting as he teases your shining pearl and coaxes your pussy into accepting another finger, and when he lowers his mouth back to your tits to add to the pleasure building inside of you, a sob bursts free.

“Please- please, Toshi!”

A third finger prods at your entrance-

“Please don’t!”

He almost winces at the sharp hiss of pain that escapes you, but he reassures himself that it will only be for a moment. The stretch and burn will give way to pleasure as he fucks them into you slowly. Your pussy is so warm, so tight, sucking the digits in deeper and when rough fingertips brush against a particular spot on your walls and you cry out, Ushijima allows a small, adoring smile to cross his face.

“Good girl,” he purrs, quickening his pace.

You’ve always been so beautiful to him, but when you cum for him that first time, face flushed and dewy, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try not to scream in pleasure, he doesn’t think there’s anything on earth that could possibly compare.

The same could be said about the way you taste, he thinks, greedily sucking your juices off of his fingers.

“Wakatoshi,” you beg, lying spent across his bed still reeling from the afterglow of your orgasm as he slides your thighs further apart so he can settle between them. He grunts a little as he wraps his hand around his flushed cock and guides it to your sopping entrance, marvelling at the way you shiver and mewl when he nudges it against your oversensitive clit.

Olive eyes find yours, and he cannot resist leaning down to claim your lips once more as he sinks slowly inside of you.

The sound that escapes him is deep and guttural, but the feel of your warm pussy clenching around his throbbing cock is simply heaven, and he almost - almost - loses control.

Forcing his eyes open, he watches your face as you take his cock, feeling every vein and ridge stretch you out, the pained whimpers that slip from behind clenched teeth. He knows that he’s bigger than average, that his girth is impressive and that even with his foreplay you’re still squeezing around him like a vice, but he forces himself to take it slow, to allow you the time to adjust.

He almost starts when you reach out to grab him, fingers painfully sinking into the muscles of his forearm as you fight off another wave of tears, so he pauses for a beat, peppering your face with more kisses. “You’re doing so well for me, such a good girl.”

When your grip eases, he resumes moving, drawing his hips back and trying not to curse at the friction your slick walls are creating.

“I love you,” he grunts, “so much.”

And then he rocks his hips forward - steadily, filling you up again, allowing you to get used to his girth. He kisses you, trails rough fingertips gently along your skin, teases you finding all the sensitive spots that make you moan for him.

Gradually, he feels you relax around him.

The obscene sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin is drowned out by your soft whines and pants as Ushijima slowly picks up the pace. He fucks you deeply, but not roughly, taking care not to hurt you anymore than necessary.

It’s slow and sensual - your body can’t help but respond to his ministrations, and when you clench around him, sucking him deeper Ushijima can’t help but groan, feeling the tight coil of heat in his core burn as pleasure ripples through him.

He wants more. Needs it.

Ushijima’s hands wrap around your thighs, easing them back towards your chest so that your ankles fall over his broad shoulders. He kisses at your calf when confusion flickers across your face, but doesn’t offer any explanation as he snaps his hips forward once more. The choked scream that leaves your lips is beautiful, but he can barely focus on that when he finally bottoms out, his balls slapping against your ass as another hoarse groan leaves him.

He promised himself that he would be gentle with you, but as your velvety walls quiver and convulse around him and your lips fall open in another soundless scream as your second orgasm hits, he’s not entirely sure that he’ll be able to keep that promise.

There’s a tightening in his balls and he can feel the tether he has on his control fraying little by little as you moan for him, your hips rocking up to meet his fervent thrusts. You’re beautiful, perfect, and he’s losing himself to the feeling of being buried inside of you. It’s indescribable, the way your pussy’s fluttering around him, clenching and pulsing, kissing his cock with sweltering heat - it feels like the very edges of his sanity are blurring as he fucks himself deeper inside of you, his cockhead hitting your cervix with every thrust. He wants to cum, wants to fill you up with his thick load again and again and again, wants you so full it’s leaking out of you-

It won’t be enough, it’ll never be enough.

He loves you, and Ushijima won’t ever be satisfied again without the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him, milking him for every drop that he’s worth.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere ushijima wakatoshi #yandere ushijima x reader #yandere ushijima #yandere ushijima wakatoshi x reader #tw non con #virgin reader

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tooktheladdedgbtq · 3 years

Text

....and the Oscar goes to.. | Tom Holland X Male!actor reader.

A/N: this was just something I wrote because I got inspired I guess. Happy Pride everyone!

——————————————

You couldn’t decide whether time was slipping through your fingers too quickly or if this had been the longest night you’d ever experienced.

seconds slowed to a crawl while you tried to gather yourself before it was your turn to take the stage. You were nervous. Not about being at the oscars or presenting for the first time. Not even about being nominated for your leading role in the second installment of a critically acclaimed trilogy. No, you’d been used to these sorts of things, you’d been an actor since you were a very young kid. Starting on television before film, and you even got to hold the Emmy the show had won when you had just turned a teenager.

No, you were nervous about who exactly you’d be presenting to. Of the five nominees and potential winners, only one could cause such an intensive feeling in your chest. Only one could awaken a sense of dread that battled with a feeling of intensive happiness mixed with anticipation, and it was Tom.

You’d known each other for years and had come to fall in love. You’d met as young co-stars on set and eventually grew into an inseparable friendship that progressed into something far more. Neither of you were sure when the feelings started but it felt like they’d always been there and you weren’t exactly complaining.

Your blissfulness with Tom was beautiful but short lived. After almost a year of being official you both agreed to take a break from the relationship. Unbeknownst to Tom you were just agreeing to save face and hadn’t pried for an answer out of fear of being hurt. You just accepted that this was how things were now, and took a step back.

You’d still kept in contact with him. It was hard not to. He was still your best friend. But whether it was the business of work or something a little more awkward, distance grew between you both as the multi-hour long facetime calls and text threads became once-a-week check-ins to just make sure you were alive and okay.

Time had passed, and you didn’t have a clue what you could possibly say to him now. You certainly didn’t want to ruin his special night. But you’d missed him so much and felt like you would implode at the first sign that he’d be interested in getting back together with you. But you also didn’t want to seem desperate or needy if he’d moved on. You didn’t want to slip and say those three words again in the moment.

Father time showed you no mercy as the sand in his hourglass suddenly shifted from a slow-motion drip to a flood. The seconds you’d spent daydreaming of your past with Tom and pondering about the your potential future had passed and left you with little time to gather yourself before presenting. still you shook your hands, arms, and lastly shoulders, putting all your worries aside and waited for introduction from the host.

Before long you’d been counted in to walking on stage, and heard the host over the microphone. “Ladies and Gentlemen, to present the award and introduce the nominees for Best Supporting Actor, please welcome one of this year’s nominees and one of our generation’s greatest talents: Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

The applause erupts from the audience like a revved up engine as you took center but it was nothing compared to the standing ovation you’d receive later on that night when receiving your own award for Best Actor.

You were stood promptly center staged with the towering Oscar statue reflecting onto the black stage floor beneath your feet. Your outfit was alluring and would surely be the next hot topic which is rare for male stars. You looked like a million bucks. Everyone knew it, most of all, Tom.

You smile and wave as you approach the microphone, your teeth shining a blinding white, and wait for a hush from the crowd.

You chuckle lightly as a few hoots and hollers sound out as the cheers subside.

You eye the monitor across the room and start to read, your nerves dying down as your jokes land and laughter echoes around the room.

As you finish the introduction, clips start to show behind you to accompany the names of the nominees as the cameras catch a glimpse of each of their reactions.

You couldn’t help but notice how tough the competition was as each actor was called. Steven Yuen playing a detective in a thrilling murder mystery. John David Washington in a fictional film playing the world’s first black astronaut aiding in the discovery of lovecraftian horrors. Andrew Garfield for his role as a psychotic narcissist and genius businessman. Oscar Issac acting in a sci fi space opera asking questions of existentialism.

Finally, you had to withhold your smile as you called out the last name. He had returned to his Billy Elliot roots being nominated for his role in a astonishing musical romance film. “Tom Holland.” You’d been ecstatic when he’d told you about it as you’d always recommend he tried it again since it made him so happy in his younger years.

You spot him a few rows from the stage, making eye contact with him and wondering if he was thinking about you the way you had done with him earlier. You couldn’t help but notice him squirming in his chair and fidgeting with his hands. Selfishly asking yourself if this wasn’t just about the award but about having you present it to him.

Seeing you here after what felt like an eternity apart and your reunion potentially being the greatest achievement of both your careers. Making it the greatest night of your lives, that is, if you were still together. But you were still best friends. That’s what mattered. So you push your self centered thoughts aside and shoot him a small wave that he returns with a smile and thumbs up. letting you know he was okay and that you could continue as the camera pans back to you capturing your not so hidden giddiness.

This awarded some small oos and aahs from the crowd as your relationship with him had been a wholly celebrated one. especially among your marvel peers.

You’re handed an envelope and statue as the music ends and the applause dies down and you take one final glare into the camera before beginning to open the envelope.

“....and the Oscar goes to,” you take a peek at the crowd and see some of the nominees holding hands with loved ones. others plainly

awaiting your next words with bated breath. The anticipation shone on everyone’s faces. Even those that weren’t nominated. Your not-so-hidden grin giving away the answer mere milliseconds before his name escaped your lips. “Tom Holland!”

Tom shot up with a shared expression of shock and happiness on his face. Pecking his mother on the cheek as she wipes the tears of pride from her eyes. His best mate Harrison gives him a quick embrace and a pat on the back before he moves on to shake hands with the director and smile at everyone cheering him on as he gradually moves toward the stage still completely baffled at the victory.

As he walks towards you in his pink pastel colored suit and brown leather dress shoes you can’t help but swell with an overwhelming feeling of joy having been here to share this career defining moment with him. You thought about how far you’d both come to get here and almost started tearing up remembering all you’d been through together.

He skipped up the miniature steps and blanketed you with both arms. You didn’t want it to end as you hadn’t felt it in a while. You threw your arms around his neck and he tightens his hold around your torso. Before you could even process them, your blunt thoughts spill out as whispers.

“I’m so incredibly proud of you. you deserve this and so much more.” you hear a small chuckle escape him as he responds. “I am trying not to cry y’know mate?” a wolf whistle comes from the crowd as you apologize for being so sappy and before he can tell you off for it you hand him his award and shove him off toward the microphone.

As he takes center stage you stand off to the side to watch him give his acceptance speech. He pauses and takes a second to gather himself before he starts talking straight from his heart with nothing prepared.

“Um, Wow. I really can’t believe this is really happening and I probably still won’t believe it happened tomorrow. Just.. wow.” his words were filled with that charmingly British accent you’d come to love so much.

“First I would like to thank my mother, without whom of course, I would not be here. I would like to thank the academy and everyone who worked on this movie from the producers and camera men, make-up and costumes, to our wonderful writers, composer, back up dancers and vocalists, and of course my friends, my co-star and the director Damien Chazelle.” whom he gestures to sitting in the second row. “I share this with all of you and I can’t thank you enough for awarding me with the opportunity to create something I love so much.”

He thanks the other nominees before turns towards you to end his speech. you felt your heart in your hands when you saw his big brown puppy eyes dart in your direction with an intensive glare of admiration.

“last but most importantly, I want to thank the inspiration for all of the love songs I sung in the film and the reason I decided to take the role. The person standing here on my right.”

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen when his words hit you like a speeding semi. you realize that he’d just called you his muse in so many words. the inspiration behind the love songs in the film no less. Meaning that with every lovestruck note his character sung he was reminded of you. All that time spent worrying if the distance between you two would cause him to forget about you, or if he’d maybe moved on and found somebody else. But no such thing had happened. He was relating his character’s longing in the film to his longing for you this entire time and that made your heart do a backflip.

You blush and cover your still ajar mouth with your fist whilst trying not to pay attention to the crowd who’s attention was fully focused on you.

He takes a deep sigh before continuing. “Y/N you’re not only the reason I took this role, but you’re the reason I was able to play it with such sincerity. You’ve been a unwavering beacon of support throughout my career in general but here you really gave me the inspiration for something special. He faces the audience again as the all follow his words with whispers of how adorable you both were. “from reading lines together in the middle of the night, to keeping me company when i’m on the brink of a meltdown.” It was all true and it only made you miss you relationship more and you found it difficult to hold back your tears.

“Y/N is the kind of best friend everybody needs, the kind of partner everybody deserves, and the person I’m so incredibly lucky to have known for so long. ..and I still can’t believe he never figured out the lyrics were all about him, It was kind of obvious-” the audience laughed you’re so close to swooning as he turns toward you again. “But, with all my heart, I love you, Y/N. Always will.” you feel as if you’re floating.

He shifts to the crowd one last time to say a final thank you before you both walk off stage one arm around one another’s shoulders. You have a short but sweet conversation backstage with him where reassures you that everything he said on stage was true and completely unscripted. He wants to talk more but knows your category is coming soon so he asks for a later opportunity and you agree before returning to your seat in the crowd.

The rest of the night flew by with you winning the award for best actor and receiving the biggest applause of the night. Tom joined in the standing ovation. You thanked everybody involved in making the film, the academy, and squeezed a little joke directed towards Tom that garnered a shared laugh from both him and the audience. You were the last award of the night and after the celebrations it was time to return to your place, where Tom was waiting for you. Wanting to talk about everything that had happened not just tonight but everything leading up to it. He also hoped you’d kept a spot open in your heart for him to return to.

#tom holland x you #tom holland x male reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland gay imagine #tom holland x male! reader #tom holland fanfiction

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wannabe-fic-writer · 3 years

Text

Moment In Time

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Just when you've gotten out, you’re given a reason to come back.

Warnings: Mild Language

Chapter 5

* * * * * * *

“You and Fury seem to forget that I’m retired pretty easily.” You say, eyes focused on your surroundings instead of the man talking to you.

A nice breeze flows past, followed by another crowd of passersby. The street is busy as always at this time of day but you always appreciate the hustle and bustle of the city. Something about it appealed to you.

New York has always been busy, for as long as you can remember. Admittedly, with the lack of advanced technology in your time, people spent a lot more time talking to each other in passing than they now spend on their phones.

“No one’s forgotten, except maybe you,” Tony says and you turn to refocus your attention on him.“ Or did you forget that it was you who copped a ride with Fury to Sokovia.”

Of course you didn’t forget that. That mission had been more dangerous and life threatening than any one you’d previously been on.

The man hums and nods, a soft chuckle leaves his lips,“ unless of course you weren’t there for the team.”

“What?” Your eyebrows pinch together,“ what’re you talking about?”

“I’m talkin about you and Romanoff.” He leans forward, pushing his coffee cup away a little.“ Clint told me about that little moment you two had before the city fell. What’d you do? Spring to action when you realized Natasha was in danger?”

Your eyes roll but you avoid answering his question. Cause that is actually what you did. On top of being generally concerned with the safety of your friends, your main focus was Natasha. You’d never admit it, out loud, but you know that’s what happened. And you know why you did, even if you won’t admit it at all.

“Awe, don’t want me exposing your crush on Nat?” He further teases and your nose turns up at him.

“Think I liked you better when you were running around in pjs and building robots and stuff.” He makes an offended face and you smile sarcastically at it.“ If I agree to train the Maximoff kids will you not mention these supposed feelings for Natasha that you assume I have.”

For a moment he looks at you, then nods.“ You’ve got yourself a deal Y/ln. Also,” he pushes his chair back and stands up,“ you’re just training the girl. Rogers apparently has some special plan for Speedy.” Picking up his cup, he claps his hand on your shoulder with extra force, and walks away.

Just as you’re about to slouch into your seat to stay an extra few minutes he calls out for you to come with him and you resist the urge to groan. Sighing softly, you finish your tea and get up.

As you expected Tony takes you to the tower. His choice of music blasts through the sports car and you can’t help but chuckle. Since he was thirteen he’d been obsessed with classic rock. You have no idea what the first song he heard was but whatever it was it hooked him to the genre.

Through the loud music he explains everything you’ll have to go over with Wanda and mentions that he’s getting a facility together upstate that will become the new Avengers HQ, but that move is going to take some time so the tower is still “home” as of now. You nod along, knowing that if not for your enhanced abilities you wouldn’t be able to hear him correctly.

By the time Tony pulls into the private parking garage, whipping into his spot and turning the car off, you completely understand what role you’re about to play in terms of training Wanda.

“What? Eager to get to work?” He asks after you’ve practically sprinted out of the car.

“More like eager to get out before my ears start bleeding.” You tell him, glancing over your shoulder at him to stick your tongue out playfully. You don’t have to keep looking at him to know he rolled his eyes.

The familiarity of the building makes it easy to navigate. Pretty much leaving Tony in the dust, you walk through the lobby to the elevators. Taking them up to the training floor.

Your plan hadn’t been to see anyone just yet. Mainly coming here to form some sort of plan as far as training the Maximoff girl goes. Only for her to be the person you run into once having stepped into the training room.

She’s across the room, fingers running over the edges of a treadmill as her eyes look through the large floor to ceiling window. You imagine she’s taking in the sight the tower provides of New York.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” You ask, effectively grabbing the young woman’s attention. She turns her head to face you, eyebrows pinching together as she’s not familiar with you, only having seen you just before you hugged Natasha in Sokovia.

“It is.” She replies shortly and you chuckle at it, stepping further into the room.

Giving her a soft smile you introduce yourself,“ I’m Y/n,” you move over to the weight benches,“ Stark asked me to come in and help you adjust.”

Her eyes narrow and that draws your attention to the fact that her eyes are green.“ Are you an Avenger? Because I haven’t seen you around here.”

“I am not. I’m supposed to be retired but no one seems to give a damn so here I am.” Spreading your arms a little to emphasize your current location.

For whatever reason your words make her giggle and you smile at that, happy to have broken the ice at least a little.

“So how’re you going to help me adjust Y/n?” Her inquisitive gaze follows her moving closer to you.

“Not sure. What do you need help adjusting to?” Your head tilts and your eyebrow quirks.“ The training regiment? Your new chaotic teammates? Living in New York?”

“Is all of the above an option?” She asks, and although you know she’s serious you still hear the teasing in her tone.

With a quiet laugh you nod,“ all of the above is an option.” You let her know.“ Um, I’m not sure of all the details with the move upstate but how about I show you around the tower and we can go over the basics of your training and such?” You decide to pose it as a question in case she doesn’t want to.

“That would be nice actually.” She smiles and you notice that it’s truly genuine. So with a smile in return, you motion for her to follow you out of the room.

With her being on this floor, you assume she’s seen it all. Not that there’s much to see. It’s the training floor so there’s nothing but gyms and a locker room. Getting in the elevator, you press the number for one of the floors dedicated to just hanging out.

Not liking the silence of the elevators, Wanda breaks it with a question.“ So why didn’t you join the Avengers?”

“Um,” you take a deep breath and release it as a sigh,“ I’d already done the whole superhero thing before. The Avengers came in and I was no longer needed.”

“Oh really?” She asks and her tone of voice makes you chuckle, then nod.“ And what made you want to be a superhero?”

The elevator stops and the doors slide open.“ I saw what they could do. The difference superheroes make in people's lives.”

Picking up on the shift in your energy, Wanda frowns, ignoring the very expensive looking stuff in the room.“ What happened?” She asked carefully, as if she were trying not to trigger something.

“I-” you sigh softly, contemplating whether to actually tell her or not. Looking into her eyes you see past the general curiosity and what you find pushes you to tell her.

So you both get comfortable on one of the couches in the room and you open up to her.“ I was taken by HYDRA when I was fairly young. And it’s not like the guards and scientists were interested in anything other than making me the perfect weapon. So when they started to experiment on me I was already in a horrible state physically. My health was on a steady decline and none of their experiments worked, it actually made me fatally ill. And with no further use of me, they’d left me there to die.”

Wanda listens intently, eyes misting with tears at the information of your mistreatment.“ But you didn’t.”

“No I didn’t,” you both laugh softly at that.“ The, at the time soon to be, founders of SHIELD were working with the US military to shut down HYDRA after World War II and they found the facility I was being held in. While they saved everyone who was being held captive there, I was in the worst shape. Seeing that I was on the verge of death, they made a decision to administer the super soldier serum to me to save my life.”

Wanda’s eyebrows raise and you have to admit that her expression is amusing.“ You’re a super soldier from World War II?” You nod.“ How old would that make you?”

“I’m 90. And I wasn’t in the war. I was born before the war. When it started I was 16 and already in a HYDRA base.”

She looks down and bites her bottom lip. You know she has another question on the tip of her tongue. And with her background, having volunteered to be experimented on by HYDRA, you know she’ll have a lot more questions after that.

So with a deep breath, you ask what’s on her mind and tuck in for a long conversation.

* * *

After a long day at SHIELD, going over papers to further induct the twins into the Avengers, Natasha finally gets back to the tower. She ignores all the SHIELD agents rushing in and out of the lobby and goes straight for the elevators.

Mentally, she admits that after the headache that is going into SHIELD, the sound of your laugh as soon as she gets on the main floor is refreshing. A small smile forms on her face and she makes her way towards the kitchen where she hears your voice.

While she knows you’re friends with the rest of her team, she can’t help but wonder if you came here to see her.

That thought falls short the instant she reaches the kitchen doorway. She quickly finds that the source of your laugh is the same young woman she’d just been recruiting onto her team.

In fact, laughter comes from you and Wanda as you cook together. The aroma smells incredible but she can’t help but to remember that this is the very same thing the two of you had done on multiple occasions.

“Nat, hey, when’d you get here?”

Your voice pulls Natasha from her thoughts and she almost smiles again. Almost.

“A few minutes ago.” She decides to take a step closer, which puts her right in the doorway.“ What’re you two making?”

“Um,” your eyebrows pinch together and you look at Wanda.

“Paprikash.” She answers with a quiet giggle and a shake of her head.

You smile at her then look back up at Natasha,“ we’re making Paprikash.”

The redhead hums, debating with herself on whether she should stay or not. An indescribable feeling nagged in the back of her mind, growing more persistent as she looks at you and Wanda happily interacting with one another. It gradually chips away at her excitement to spend time with you and she hates it.

With a huff she says,“ I’ll leave you two to it.”

She turns on her heel and walks away, effectively dodging the blue blur that is Pietro running into the kitchen, heading back to the elevator. With her floor practically empty due to the move, she wasn’t eager to go up but it seemed more relaxing than watching someone else make you laugh and smile how she did.

Just as the elevator doors have started to close you slip through, narrowly missing getting your arm caught between the doors, and stand directly in front of her. Your eyes scan her form, up to her face and lingering there. She watches as you take her in, your eyes finally meeting.

In a soft voice, one that practically melts her heart, you ask,“ are you okay?” She can’t say she expected you to ask that, plus the equally as soft look in your eyes, she grasps for an answer. One that isn’t ‘I didn’t like seeing you so happy with someone else’.

“Just tired. It’s been a long day and my floor isn’t exactly relaxation friendly right now.” She excuses.

Nodding along, you smile a little at her,“ think I could help with that if you’d let me.” And there’s no way she’s saying no.

That’s how, a little over thirty minutes later, she finds herself following you into your apartment building with takeout bags and beer in hand.

You hadn’t explained the plan until you were picking up the food. Telling her that a change of scenery might be exactly what she needs. Her trying to relax and unwind at the Tower was equivalent to a lawyer trying to relax at their firm.“ You can’t destress from work at work.” You reasoned.

Unlocking your door, you gently push it open and hold it for Natasha. She wasn’t sure what to expect of your apartment, but what she finds definitely isn’t it.

Walking into your apartment makes her a little confused. It’s like stepping into a time vault that housed a number of different eras all at once. While things like your appliances and a few tables or paintings were modern or at least from the last decade, your couch, chairs, and even your cabinets look dated.

It was as if you furnished your home without a single clue of what you actually knew you wanted to present. But it’s you. Natasha finds that it almost perfectly embodies the person she’s come to know you to be.

Since the moment she met you it was clear you were equally as present as you were stuck in the past. Your friendships with Tony and Steve showed that in an ironic way. With Tony the majority of your conversations or bonding was over the future, things he was planning, building, or tinkering with that would change the future. While with Steve you focused on the way things used to be in the era you grew up and were raised in.

“Nice place.” She finally says, moving her eyes from the kitchen to you.“ Very, you.”

The look you give her makes a small giggle leave her lips. You seemed so proud of her first comment and then the second one made you frown, as if you couldn’t tell if you should take it as an insult or a compliment.

“Don’t think too hard Y/ln, your ears are starting to smoke.” She says jokingly, patting your cheek without giving it any thought. Her turning away makes her miss the way you flush at her inconsequential touch.

At your invitation, she makes herself at home, finding a spot on the couch and starting to unpack the food. You join her shortly after with plates and forks, turning the tv on and going to a channel you both enjoy watching.

“How you feelin about the move?” You ask, picking up your plate and leaning back against the couch. Even though the tv is on, Natasha can’t help but notice that all your attention seems to be on her.

While she is definitely used to the attention, men and women alike focusing solely on her because of her looks, your attention is different. She knows it would be unreasonable of her to think you aren’t paying attention to her for her looks because well, when she gives you attention the first thing she looks at is your looks. You’re incredibly attractive, especially to the redhead. But it was more than that.

On both ends, yourself and Natasha saw the physical beauty, but you looked beyond that. You saw the beauty of each other’s personalities.

You’re lighthearted, you have an outlook on life that she finds intriguing, and not just because you’re decades older than her, it was how you maintained a fairly optimistic view on things despite the cards you’d been dealt in the past. On top of that you’re honest and caring, especially to the people you consider friends and family.

As far as she goes, you see her in, almost, the same way she sees you. She’s honest. Shows her care in a way that you find adorable, mainly because it’s so nonchalant. Her will to keep going, to endure the many trials she’s been through. Her strength never fails to amaze you. Not to mention the absolute admiration you have for her in regards to her clearing her ledger. Especially since being an Avenger means so much more to her than just that.

That thought alone sends a rumbling of butterflies in her stomach and she hates how childish it feels but loves it all the same.

“Um,” she looks down, letting her hair curtain between you two to hide the blush that rises.“ I can’t say I feel any particular way about it.”

When she feels your fingers ghost over her cheek, she has half a mind to grab your hand and break it, but it’s you and she’s been secretly craving your touch. In the softest gesture she’d ever been on the end of, you brush her hair back. Your fingers lightly run over her cheek and temple as you hook her hair behind her ear.

She looks over to see you drop your head slightly to catch her eye, a little smile on your face.“ It is okay if you aren’t all that happy to be leaving. The tower has been your home for the last few years. An attachment or even familiarity with it is understandable.”

“I-” she sighs, just barely tilts her head closer to your touch, then lifts her head.“ I’ve never had a home Y/ln.” She knows you can hear the hurt in her words, cause admittedly she didn’t hide it like she usually would. She doesn’t feel the need to with you.

You go quiet for a moment and Natasha wonders if maybe she should’ve kept her somber comment to herself. The instant she considers walling herself off again, you speak.“ Well then maybe,”

She raises an eyebrow at you.“ Maybe what?”

“Maybe this could be your home.” You swallow, nerves manifesting in the way you play with your food.“ I know you’ve only just been here today but, everyone deserves a safe haven. Somewhere they can escape from the rest of the world. Everyone deserves a home.” You finally look back into her eyes,“ especially you Nat.”

You didn’t know but in that moment you got to her in a way no one else ever had. You didn’t tear her walls down. Instead, as if understanding the very reason the walls had been put up in the first place, you built a door to her heart and soul. And only you hold the key to it.

She’s hit with the weight of her feelings for you, feelings she’d never had for anyone before. As terrifying as she finds it, she can’t help but think that if there’s anyone who she could trust to be gentle with these feelings it’s you.

* * * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @yumusak-yastik @b-5by5 @fayhar @lostandsearching @iliketozoneout @thewidowsghost @ecruzsalaz

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x yn #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow x yn #natasha romanoff fic #black widow fic #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #reader insert #moment in time

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jjungkookislife · 3 years

Text

Secret ||PJM || Pt. 5: I’ll Be Good (M)

pairing: sugar daddy!jimin x sugar baby!reader

genre: smut, angst, some fluff

wc: 5.1k

warnings: [not in order] cursing, mentions about mental health (depression and anxiety), loneliness, daddy!kink, pet names (baby, baby girl, babe, good girl, doll, love), alcohol use/mentions, spit kink, choking, nudes, oral sex, nipple play, marking (hickeys, bruising, biting), hair pulling, thigh riding mentions, unprotected sex, mention of birth control, jealousy, possessiveness, creampie

date: March 31, 2021

The last thing Jimin wanted to be was stuck in a meeting with men who still didn’t trust him with the company, despite his great efforts. He made sure to keep his demeanor hard— frigid— refusing to allow them to see him as weak. It took a toll on him, a large heavy weight on his mental health, but he wasn’t going to dwell on that now because he had you to help him carry the burden.

You.

You were wonderful in his eyes. Smart, beautiful, funny, but that mouth of yours often got you in trouble. You liked to push his buttons, liked to rile him up to see how far he’d go. You were a brat at heart, but a princess at any other time when it suited you. He lov—he liked that about you.

Ever since he had first met you, he’d been drawn to you. He wasn’t sure if it was your smile, your laugh, or the way your eyes caught his at the bar of some party he couldn’t even remember the occasion of. You smiled at him, excusing yourself from the man that had been chatting you up. Jimin paid him no mind as you strutted toward him, head held high and your drink clasped in your perfectly manicured hand.

You were stunning. A true vision in your red dress that hugged your body just right. Your makeup was spectacular and as he eyed you shamelessly, you giggled. He knew he was gone then, more so when you smiled brightly at him, hand held out for him to bring to his lips to kiss as you told him your name.

Jimin repeated it, as sweet as a lullaby. Your hand remained in his after introducing himself, not wanting to let you fall through his fingers. He was the envy of every man in attendance that night, but a quick romp in the sheets wasn’t what he was looking for, and frankly, neither were you.

After the night of the party, Jimin contacted you. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of you, fantasizing about all the naughty things he’d like to do to you... if you’d let him. You were eager, a pawn in his hand, ready to bend at his whim… for compensation.

You were a sugar baby. And definitely not a new one. You knew your way around, knew your worth, and knew when someone just wasn’t going to pay up. But Jimin would. Of course he would. Companionship, sex, and a pretty face with a personality that drew him in, keeping him on his toes… what else could he want?

Now, although Jimin didn’t date or had the time to, honestly. He got laid pretty often, if he so desired. He’d had his share of flings, some lasting longer than others, but they all took off when he wouldn’t commit. He had no desire to, not when he had first taken over the company and not in the present either.

Jimin liked his life easy. Liked to spend time with his friends, do his hobbies (tennis, skydiving, swimming, and fucking) whenever he damned well pleased.

Loneliness did creep in. Lonely nights of tossing and turning in an empty penthouse with nobody to share it with. Those dark thoughts consuming him, calling him back to bed when there was work to be done.

He was tired of it. Tired of feeling lost and alone, carving a hole in him that his friends just couldn’t fill, despite their best efforts.

Easily, Jimin agreed to your terms. He’d spoil you rotten, absolutely rotten in exchange for your companionship and sex. He didn’t need a girlfriend, just someone who could act the part without the commitment; the jealousy. Someone to fill the hole in his chest.

Your affection and friendship came with a price tag and some other suitors, suitors Jimin paid you to disperse off. You had put a fight to keep them, but money talked and those other daddies walked.

Jimin had smirked, sitting beside you as you cut off all your other sugar daddies. Some confused, some enraged, and some asking if you were okay.

When he was your only daddy left, you’d smiled smugly. You’d crossed one leg over the other, ignoring the way your dress rode up your thighs, a peek of your panties drawing Jimin’s eyes as you said, “I expect the same from you. No other babies, no other women, just me.”

“You can’t be serious?” Jimin had gasped, his pouty lips in a frown.

“How bad do you want me?” You’d asked, crossing your arms under your chest to draw his attention to your breasts. Jimin had gulped, eyes wide as he licked his lips. You were a temptress, a seductress who knew how to play the game, and Jimin was at your mercy. He was your pawn and with your hand reaching for his belt, he knew he was doomed.

And doomed he was from the very start. He fell into the role very easily, thrived in it and still did. You were wonderful. A ray of sunshine in his otherwise gloomy days. He wasn’t sure how he lived before you; he was sure he didn’t. You were everything he could have ever wanted in a person and so much more, and when his friends loved you as well, he was set.

His baby.

You were his baby and he would take care of you in any way possible, not just financially. He had bought you cars, diamonds, vacations, clothes, iPads, cell phones. You named it; he bought it. All you had to do was send a link, a screenshot, or simply point to it before it was in your hands. The more he got to know you, the more he found caring about you, wanting nothing but your happiness. He didn’t understand what he was feeling, and he didn’t think he was ready to understand it, if he was honest. So, he suppressed his feelings and did what he did best; spoil you with materialistic items. If only he knew you wanted him, and not his gifts.

Jimin looked down at his shoes, concealing the smile that tugged on his lips at the thought of you. He carded a hand through his hair, forcing himself to pay attention as the dull voices wore on and on. Time couldn’t go fast enough as he daydreamed about you waiting in his bed when he eventually got home tonight.

It was the weekend. Maybe he could have you stay the night without you rushing out the door tomorrow morning. He liked when you stayed over, liked having you in his arms all night and being buried between your thighs in the morning.

Why were you consuming his thoughts like this? What kind of spell did you have him under? Recently he’d begun feeling… different around you.

Jimin hadn’t been jealous since you cut off your other sugar daddies. He wanted you for himself and only himself. Mostly because it would be safer (no condoms and you were on the pill), but also, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else. You felt the same way, although you’d never admit it to his face. You’d rather choke.

Lately, these feelings—whatever they were—had made his head spin. He didn’t want to feel more. The thought alone sent him into a panic. But… he also didn’t want to end things. Could he be lying to himself? Sure. Most definitely, as his friends constantly reminded him.

Feelings were dangerous. Feelings—especially one-sided—could cause the beautiful relationship you both had to crumble into smithereens. And then what would he have? Nothing. Not a damn thing if you weren’t in his life. He’d be lonely again. Miserable. A shell of a man like he was before he met you.

Jimin would not go back to that. Not ever. He refused! And so with that, he buried his feelings deep in his chest, under lock and key. And nobody, not even you, was going to let them out.

“Mr. Park? Are there any issues you’d like to address or perhaps some questions?” One of the board members asked. Jimin looked at his assistant, “did you get all that?”

At the nod of her head, Jimin responded, “No, we’re all done here. I’ll see you next week. Dismissed.”

Jimin rose from his seat at the head of the table, passing by everyone to go out the door before they even had a chance to blink. His assistant was hot on his heels, with barely an inch of distance between them.

“Marissa?” Jimin stopped, his assistant halting in her tracks just before an impact could occur.

“Yes, Mr. Park?”

“Is anything on my agenda time sensitive? I’m suddenly feeling ill and would like to go home.”

Marissa looks at her tablet, scrolling through the rest of the afternoon. The sun would set within the hour, and Jimin’s most pressing meetings and appointments had been conducted earlier in the day.

“You have a call scheduled with your father. He says it concerns your brother.” Marissa informs him. Jimin rolls his eyes. He knew that phone call could drag on, and frankly, he didn’t care to know what his younger brother was up to.

“Reschedule for next week. I’m sure he can wait,” Jimin waves his hand, popping into his office to grab his belongings before announcing his departure. Marissa calls the driver, alerting him of Mr. Park’s departure, and Jimin smirks as the doors of his private elevator shut.

It felt good to be the boss.

Jimin sat back in his limo, growing more inpatient as the minutes ticked by. You’d already sent him some racy photos, each growing more and more risqué until you were down to just your panties, back arched and fingers dangerously close to slipping into your panties.

‘I’m waiting, daddy.’

Jimin cursed, biting his lip as his building finally came into view. He wanted to devour you in kisses, consume every bit of you until you were writhing beneath him, hands pinned above your head as your pretty eyes locked with his.

“We’ve arrived, sir.” The driver stares down at his boss, who is just staring down at his phone, finally noticing his door has been opened and his driver is waiting for him to get out. Jimin immediately locks his phone, stuffing it into the pocket of his jacket before getting out.

“Thank you,” he says as he walks past him and into his building, greeting the doorman as he gets into the elevator. He swears it’s dragging today, but it could be his eagerness to get to you, knowing you’re waiting for him in his bed in nothing but a pair of flimsy panties is torturous.

Jimin rushes inside his penthouse, “Baby, I’m home.”

“I’m in here,” you call back as Jimin heads down the hallway, a smirk on his lips as he opens his bedroom door.

He bites his lip. You’re a vision. A true vision as you lie on his bed, a teasing smile on your lips.

“I missed you,” you say softly as Jimin walks further into his bedroom. His hand begins to loosen his tie as he kicks his shoes off, ignoring how they clatter on his bedroom floor.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, princess,” he apologizes as he climbs onto the bed and you get on your knees, crawling over to him.

“Really? Are you going to show me how sorry you are? I’ve been waiting such a long time, daddy. I almost had to take care of myself,” you pout, your hand tightening his tie, eyes hard. Jimin licks his lips, his hand wrapping around yours before he’s caressing your face.

“Is that so?” he asks, moving his hand to undo his tie. He holds the black silk in his hands, twining it as he looks at you, his eyes drawn to your bare breasts.

“Very. It’s not nice to keep me waiting,” you whisper as you inch closer, lips pressing a featherlight kiss to his neck. Jimin swallows thickly. You quickly work your way through the buttons of his shirt, untucking it from his black slacks. You push his jacket off his shoulders, letting it crumple on the floor.

Jimin raises a brow. You ignore it. Your lips are planting kisses on every inch of his neck, pushing his shirt down his arms. You feel his bicep, looking up at him with a grin before he’s pulling you to him. You gasp, your chest pressed against his as he threads his fingers in your hair to pull you into a deep passionate kiss that has you moaning into his lips.

“Jimin,” a sigh of his name has him grunting, eyes wild as he kisses you once again, pushing you onto your back. You giggle, loving how he sloppily kisses your face and neck.

“Jimin! Jimin!” you exclaim, giggles filling his bedroom as you look up at him. Jimin feels his heart skip a beat, cheeks tinted pink as he grins widely at you, “am I forgiven, princess?”

“If I say yes, will you stop slobbering on my face?” Jimin smirks, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing the sides. You gasp, moaning and melting under him.

“Open,” you do as instructed, sticking your tongue out for him. So obedient. Such a good girl for him.

Jimin releases your throat, a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes as he squeezes your cheeks. He spits on your tongue, releasing you, “swallow.”

You do.

“Fuck,” Jimin curses, carding a hand through his hair. You stick your tongue out again for him, watching as he undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor carelessly. He straddles your hips, leaning in to kiss you, his tongue twining with yours. He grinds down on you, swallowing the dulcet moans that escape you as your hands weave in his hair, tugging at the locks. Your hips meet his, feeling his erection with every roll of your hips. Your panties are soaked, utterly ruined as you beg him to touch you… to fuck you.

Jimin smirks, pressing a kiss to your kiss-swollen lips to silence you. His lips trail downward to your jaw, down to your neck where he nips and suckles at the sensitive skin as his hands cup your breast, thumbs circling your pert nipples before it’s his tongue swirling around them. Teeth gently nipping your nipple, your back arched into him as he palms himself over his slacks.

“Tell me,” Jimin starts as he rises, one hand palming his dick, the other kneading your breast. “What did you do while I was gone, doll?”

“N-nothing,” you answer honestly. Your body is heated, sweat beading at your hairline, thighs pressed together as your panties stick to you obscenely.

Jimin looks into your eyes, his hand moving over your chest. He can tell when you’re lying, having figured it out right from the start. Simple little tells: lack of eye contact, biting your lip and a racing heart.

Grinning, Jimin brushes his lips against yours, “good baby.” You preen at the praise, smiling bashfully before his hand is unbuttoning his pants, tugging the zipper down as he climbs off of you to pull his pants down the rest of the way. He takes a second to remove his socks, knowing you don’t like them on during sex.

Jimin shoots you a knowing smile as you sit up on your elbow, hungrily admiring his body. He was sin incarnate. Perfectly sculpted from his strong shoulders and neck down to his thighs that you just loved to ride until you were nothing but a creamy mess. The thought makes you clench, licking your lips as you crawl toward him, getting off the bed. Jimin eyes you curiously, slightly amused when you drop to your knees in front of him.

You look up at him, resting your weight on your heels as you lean back. Jimin can’t resist you, running his thumb over your lips.

“So pretty,” he whispers, hand cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch, feeling soft and secure. Warmth overwhelms you as you maintain eye contact, swallowing thickly. “So, so pretty.”

“Jimin,” you whine, your hand resting on his. You look at his cock, licking your lips. It’s straining against his boxers, pre-cum staining the material; it makes your mouth water. “Please?”

Jimin knows he’s putty in your hands, that look alone is enough for him to buy you the world, hell maybe the universe. How can he ever say no to you, his princess?

“Sure, baby.” That’s all you need to hear as your tongue laps at his boxers. Jimin is surprised but his fingers thread in your hair regardless, tugging gently as a warning not to tease. He’s been hard since this afternoon and the last thing he wants to be is teased. He aches to feel the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him, your nose pressed to his pelvis.

You tease the head of his cock through his boxers, earning a tug of your hair before you’re pulled back. Jimin’s heated gaze sends a tingle down your spine, “baby.”

A simple warning, one that has you pulsating as you lick your lips, hand reaching for the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down his muscular thighs before they pool at his feet and he kicks them away.

A curse escapes him when your lips wrap around him, your tongue swirling around the head as your hand strokes him. Jimin groans at the feeling. He could never grow tired of you.

Jimin caresses your face when you pause to look up at him, “so pretty.” You grow flustered, ignoring the way your cheek heat as you begin bobbing up and down instead, making him moan and groan instead of complimenting you. Your plan works, Jimin overcome by the pleasure your sweet lips provide as you suck harder, sloppier, gagging on his big thick cock, hoping your throat won’t get bruised once again. You didn’t want to go through that embarrassment at the dentist again.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck,” Jimin grunts, your name spilling from his lips as he tugs on your hair, guiding you and setting the pace. “You’re so pretty when you’re choking on my dick. So good for me.”

You deep throat him, loving the sinful sounds that tumble from his pretty lips. His head lolls back, eyes fluttering shut as utter bliss crosses his ethereal features. Moans of your name, curses, grunts, and praises escape his lips as he praises you to the high heavens as his cock sits heavy on your cock, lips sucking the soul out of him.

A whine falls from your lips when you’re tugged off his cock by your hair, your adorable confused gaze meeting his cocky one.

“Up,” he commands as you rise to your feet. He kisses you, his tongue meeting yours as you grip his biceps to hold your balance as he kisses you passionately. Arousal pools deep in your abdomen, body fueled with lust.

“Daddy, please.” Jimin chuckles, kissing his way to the column of your throat, nipping at the skin. A moan of his name rolls off your tongue as he wraps your legs around his waist to take you to his bed.

Jimin sets you down with care, having you lie back as he climbs over you. His lips brush against yours, a featherlight kiss that has butterflies fluttering in your tummy. His hand cups your face, saying nothing as he admires your body. You were aroused, panting and aching for him. Nobody else. Just Jimin.

The soft look you give him is what sends him over the edge, kissing you roughly as he holds you tight. Maybe… just maybe, you could love him. Love him the way he’d deny loving you. You were everything for him, but was he to you? He didn’t want to think about it right now, not when you were wet, ready, and his cock was throbbing, leaking pre-cum.

“Jimin…” your hand cups his cheek, his dark eyes flitting to yours.

God, he loved you.

“Please,” you whisper as your hand moves down to his neck and then his chest. Jimin swallows thickly, nodding as he takes your hand in his, fingers laced together as he pins it by your head, earning a gasp from your pretty lips.

With one last squeeze of your hand and fleeting kiss to your lips, he moves down your body. He wants to mark you as his, leave love-bites on your skin for the world to see but he resists if he wants to keep his plans for tomorrow.

Jimin’s fingers toy with the waistband of your panties, tugging them down to suck a tiny mark on your hip. You roll your eyes, but you love the slight possessiveness.

“I’m yours,” you assure him regardless. It works. Jimin presses a kiss on the mark, gently tugging your panties down your thighs, you lift your hips to aid him. He tosses them over his shoulder to be forgotten.

His hands immediately grab your thighs, spreading them.

“Fuck, so wet for me. All for me,” Jimin licks his lips, looking up at you. You resist the urge to cover your face as he kisses his way up your thigh until he’s pressing a gentle kiss to your clit. A sigh escapes you, making him smirk before he’s diving right in. Your hands seek purchase in his sheets, fisting them as he works wonders on your cunt.

“J-Jimin,” you stutter, hand embedded in his thick locks, hips rising from the bed to chase after his tongue. His hand pushes you back onto the mattress while he continues to feast on you, one leg thrown over his shoulder as his fingers slip right in, curling and scissoring inside you. His tongue flicks your clit, swirling in circles before his lips are suckling it.

You arch, crying out for him over and over again. Sweat beads between your brows, a sheen of sweat appearing on your body as you writhe beneath Jimin, wanting to crush his head between your thighs.

Jimin looks up at you, watching as pleasure overwhelms you, his fiery tongue the source of all your curses and pleas. Your hands cup your breasts, rolling your hard nipples between your fingertips as you cry out, “Jimin… Daddy… I can’t!”

Your body is overwhelmed with pleasure. Your skin is hot, flushed as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten before you cry out, “I’m coming! Fuck!”

Jimin doesn’t stop his ministrations, continuing as you fall over the edge. His name rolls off your tongue in a mantra, eyes squeezed shut and the sheets fisted in your hand once again as you arch your back. Jimin waits until you’ve fallen slack before he slips his fingers out of you, placing them in his mouth, tongue swirling around them as he sucks them clean.

“Feel good, princess?” Jimin asks, a smirk on his lips.

“Mmm,” you murmur, your eyes still closed as you try to regulate your breathing.

Jimin chuckles, “you good, love?”

“More than okay,” you answer, sitting up to crawl over to him until you’re straddling his lap. Jimin’s hands immediately grip your hips, your lips pressing against his. Your arms wrap around his neck, keeping him from going anywhere.

Jimin buries his face into your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin as you line him up at your entrance, sinking on to him when he least expects it.

“Baby, fuck,” he grunts, his forehead falling onto your shoulder as you hold him close while he finally bottoms out. You bite your lip, groaning at the stretch that has your eyes fluttering shut, nails digging into his perfect muscular back.

Hesitantly, Jimin looks at you. Three words sit heavy on his tongue as you stroke his face, biting your lip as you roll your hips. Your eyes flutter shut, your hand falling to his shoulder, moans of his name filling the space between your bodies.

“Y/n,” your name is a delicate whisper, his hold on you tightening, swallowing the heavy words instead. He kisses you, losing himself in you instead. Lust is easy, lust he can deal with. That’s all this is, he lies to himself once again as you ride him.

You hold Jimin close, fingers threaded in his hair, tugging it to make him meet your gaze, “you always fuck me so good, baby. So, so good.”

“This tight cunt is all I can think about at work. You’re such a fucking distraction but coming home to you waiting on my bed wet and horny is so worth it,” Jimin kisses you, tongue pushing past your lips before he’s rolling you over so he’s on top.

“Jimin,” you moan, his thrusts hitting all the right spots.

“On your knees, baby.” You do as you’re told, getting on your knees and arching perfectly for him. Jimin smacks your ass, mesmerized by the way it jiggles. He smacks it harder, your cry of his name making his cock throb in his hand as he strokes it before lining himself up at your entrance, grunting when the thick head of his cock is welcomed into your cunt.

“Fuck,” you curse, face in the pillow, turning your head to the side. Jimin grabs your arms, putting them behind your back, wrists crossed together as he holds them with one hand while he fucks into you. His head is thrown back, saccharine moans escaping him as you fuck back into him, moaning when his fingers rub at your clit.

“That’s it, baby girl. Fuck, you feel so good..” Jimin bites his bottom lip, a poor effort to try to muffle the moan that threatens to escape his pretty lips. His eyes roll back, overwhelmed by the warmth and wetness of your cunt. Your sweet moans fuel him, consume him as he pistons in and out of you to coax more of those dulcet moans from your lips. His hand moves to raise you, wrapping around your throat. Your eyes flutter shut, melting into his touch as he squeezes.

“Jimin,” you rasp, overcome with pleasure as he continues to rub at your clit. You shutter, your hand wrapping around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. Jimin grunts, kissing your cheek as he grinds his hips into you, slamming them when you cry out that you’re close.

“Come for me, princess. Please,” his angelic voice has you pulsating, doing as he’s asked as you grip his wrist and come. Jimin moans, lips planting kisses on your shoulder before he’s biting down and coming with you.

“Jimin… Jimin!”

“Oh, fuck. That’s it, love. Come for daddy,” Jimin moans, eyes shut and lips parted as he moans your name repeatedly, filling you with cum until you’re unable to hold yourself up. Jimin chuckles, lying you on your back on his bed before he lies beside you.

“Fuck,” you giggle, pushing your hair out of your eyes as Jimin takes the chance to kiss your sweat beaded forehead. You grimace, “gross, I’m sweaty.”

“I don’t care, princess.” Jimin covers your face in kisses, making you laugh until you’re pressing your palms on his chest to push him away.

“Jimin!” You squeal, kissing his cheek before cuddling up to his side. He kisses your temple, holding you for a few minutes before he’s pulling away from you to get you some water and lead you to the bathroom to help you get cleaned up.

You end up taking a quick shower, exchanging kisses and lingering touches before you’re wrapped up in a towel in his bedroom. You’ve brought your own clothes to sleep in, but you take one of Jimin’s baggy shirts instead, climbing into his bed while he puts on a pair of boxers.

“Go to sleep, baby. We’ve got plans tomorrow,” he tells you as you snuggle into your side of the bed, pulling the comforter up to your chest.

“Goodnight, Jimin.”

“Goodnight, princess.” Jimin whispers, caressing your cheek before you close your eyes. He watches you until he’s sure you’re asleep, hoping you can’t hear how loud his heart beats.

The morning sunlight streams in through the cracks between the curtains, the light stirring Jimin awake. He sits up, rubbing at his eyes with his hands until all he can see is black dots before his eyesight settles once again.

Beside him, you’re still sleeping, clutching the pillow to your chest. He sits up, admiring the serene look on your face as you snooze away beside him, so comfortable, stress free.

Jimin’s heart thunders in his chest when you stir, rolling over and seeking out his hand with yours. He easily gives it to you, squeezing softly when you settle soundly.

As the world outside begins to wake, he can’t help but want to stay in this bubble the two of you have created in his home. Nobody to bother you, nobody hounding you to do this or that. Nobody to disturb your utopia.

Jimin caresses your face, his delicate touch makes you moan softly as his fingers push your hair out of your eyes. He stares at you freely, admiring your features. You were beautiful. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and it still baffled him how you’d agreed to this arrangement. He knew he couldn’t give you more, and on days like today, he desperately wished he could. But what would that get him? Get you? A broken heart and the loss of his best friend? He couldn’t risk it. Wouldn’t risk it. Money was easy. Money came and went, but you stayed regardless if money appeared in your account at the end of the day. That scared him. Why would you stay?

“If we’re having a staring contest, you gotta wake me up first, Minie.” Your voice startles him, his hand hastily pulling away from your face as you sit up. He hopes you can’t see the pinkness in his cheeks or the embarrassed smile on his lips.

“Way to ruin the moment,” he laughs, shaking his head, and your heart skips a beat when he gives you his radiant smile.

“I didn’t know there was a moment to ruin, baby. I’ll close my eyes and you can keep staring at me,” you giggle, rolling over and shutting your eyes. Jimin settles behind you, draping his arm over your waist before you wiggle into him.

“I hate you,” he jokes, kissing your temple.

“Mhm, your cock is way too hard for you to lie about that,” you smirk, wiggling further into him.

“Shh,” he chuckles deeply, kissing your cheek, moving your hair out of the way to kiss your neck.

“Show me how much you hate me, Min,” you goad him, turning to face him. Your eyes lock on his and Jimin can’t help but fall for you even more. He wonders if it’s obvious to you like everyone else? He wouldn’t dare admit it out loud, not to himself and certainly not to you. You were destined to fail, and who was he to stand in the way of destiny?

“Lie back, princess. Let me get a taste of you.”

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