#fast forwarded through the entire session to get the exact moment
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stripedstarsblueflags · 6 days ago
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Sam Collins Defending Backmarkers (Specifically Logan Sargeant)
@quigzahhutt
Bahrain Pre-Season Testing TUESDAY Session ONE, timestamp 2:47:00 (give or take) on F1TV; context, talking about teammate comparisons in Sauber
“…I think this is one of the big fallacies of formula one, that it’s easier to come as a rookie in the back– I don’t think it’s necessarily true.
When you look at the rookie performances of, say, Oscar Piastri compared to Lando Norris– Piastri is generally behind Norris, in fact pretty comfortably, in the qualifying head-to-head as an example in the last couple of years. But because the McLarens are at the front, if Norris is on Pole, Piastri can be third. If Norris is fifth, Piastri can be seventh. And occasionally, Oscar’s outqualifying Lando as well– but you know you’re always in the top ten. You’re always making it to Q3. It seems great…
…whereas if you’re in a slow car, you could just be plopped at the bottom of the field. Like Logan Sargeant, who could be a few tenths behind Alex Albon, and rather than being fifth and eighth he’s just constantly last and constantly right at the back. It was a little bit like Zhou had last year– well, he wasn’t a rookie, but– the comparisons just get brutal when the car’s not good.
Because you are the slowest driver in the field. And if the Sauber car’s not good and Bortoletto’s consistently a little bit behind Hulkenberg, then he will become the sort of tailender of the field… which is not a nice place to be. More notable there than if you’re somewhere just being in the midfield– just being a couple of tenths away and still able to scrabble for points….”
–Sam Collins
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definitelynotshouting · 2 years ago
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dance au you say 👀👀👀 is it like Grian and Scar typically do different styles of dance but are for some reason partnered together or do they dance the same style and gotta choreograph a routine together but kinda buttheads with how they choreograph
Not quite, although thats a super cool idea!!! :D my au is about Grian asking Scar for dance lessons while preparing for an event he's been invited to-- he's expected to dance, and has never really applied himself to learn more than the very basics until now.
Scar, however, is an excellent dancer and offers to teach him, builds them an intricate gazebo to learn in, shows up to their first lesson in an immaculate new suit, and proceeds to unintentionally but enthusiastically seduce Grian-- who's had a crush for a long time, but hasn't yet gotten up the courage to do anything about it.
The penultimate scene goes a little something like this:
Grian asks Scar for one last practice session before the event. He doesn't even need to feign nervousness-- he's practically sweating bullets. But practicing isnt really his motivation here; in all honesty, he just wants to spend one more time in Scar's arms.
It's evening, golden and sticky with summer, and they're dancing as the sun slowly begins to set. Scar's complimenting, hyping him up, telling him he's a natural now, he'll do so great. He'll be rooting for him at the event the ENTIRE time. The jukebox's music fades, and the dance ends with a flourish, and Grian finds himself nose to nose with a Scar who is gazing at him like he's everything.
Then Scar seems to shake himself, disengages, and gently tells him he'll do great. Amazing, even. The envy of the dance floor. They both step back at the same time.
But the sun is hitting Scar's face just right, and he's gorgeous, and Grian just had him in his arms, and-- and-- and--
Grian impulsively darts forward and kisses the life out of him, fast and a little messy, with his heart beating right out of his chest. And then in true Grian fashion, he freaks out about his own impulsivity and flies away without addressing ANY of this bc he Cant Be Normal Ever, leaving poor Scar to stare off into the sunset with his hand pressed absently against his lips.
What follows after that is some very strained event participation on Grian's part, and Scar trying desperately to talk to him while Grian dodges him like his life depends on it. Eventually, Grian gets exhausted by it all and takes a moment to recoup by wandering outside for some fresh air.
This is where Scar finds him; a little cold, a bit shivery, feeling VERY sorry for himself, and finally Grian doesn't have the patience or energy to run any longer. I actually wrote out a tiny snippet of this scene:
"You know, you're, uh, awful slippery when you want to be." Scar's voice is deceptively casual. "You've gotta teach me that vanishing trick sometime." "Grow wings," Grian suggests wryly, then sobers, pulling Scar's jacket a little tighter around his shoulders. "Sorry. For— that. Yesterday. Yeah." "Sorry you did it? Or sorry it happened?" "Scar," Grian says, pained, "you just said the exact same thing twice." "Not really." Scar's voice is quiet, contemplative. He still isn't looking at Grian when he speaks. "'Cause, y'know, there's— I mean, dancing is pretty intimate, right? Plenty of opportunity for things to just... happen, without them meaning to. It's pretty common, really." He's giving Grian an out, he realizes. An escape hatch left wide open, a gaping crevice Grian can slip through without snagging his feathers. He could lie, right here and right now, and Scar is telling him that would be okay. Everything could go back to normal. Maybe its the atmosphere. Maybe it's the night air, a cool caress on his face, and the moon rising high and bright in the sky above them. A waxing growth that limns them both in pretty silver, catching on the edges of Scar's profile. He's beautiful, as always, and as much as Grian's stomach trembles, he can't tear his eyes from the sight of him. "More like I'm sorry for ruining a perfectly good friendship," Grian croaks at last. Scar blinks, lips parting briefly, throat bobbing as he swallows. His gaze lowers slowly, until his lashes paint dark lines against his cheeks. "Who says it got ruined?" he finally asks. "Scar, I kissed you," Grian says miserably, huddling further into himself. "Yeah, that was kinda hard not to notice." "Scar." "What? It's true! I was there, I saw it!" Oddly, there's the hint of a smile threading into Scar's voice; when he turns to pin Grian's gaze, it reflects on his lips, tilted up the tiniest fraction. In the moonlight, his eyes almost glow. "But sure, lets assume you've ruined a friendship. Which you have not, by the way— in case you were wondering." All the air leaves Grian's lungs at once. He's paralyzed, tipping over the knife's edge of something only Scar can see. "I didn't?" "Nah." Scar's voice is achingly warm now. "Not even close. Actually, my only question right now is: do you wanna do it again?"
Anyway they smooch again and get catcalled by their friends and Grian dips Scar bc Scar deserves to get dipped and its very sweet bc sometimes u rlly do just need some low stakes pining THEE END❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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polyamzeal · 8 months ago
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I’m struggling hard with comparing myself and projecting.
My partner decided to start dating again after several years in what was a really rough place in my life. I was starting a new job that had all these plans to grow and expand our relationship pinned to it. She decided to start dating the week before I got paid the first time and could implement any of these plans. It also happened to be a week after my dog of 10 years was put down for on going cancer and seizures. After a couple of bad communication moments and some struggles to emotionally catch up I ask if she could slow down some. Not because she didn’t have the right or needed my permission, but because I was really struggling to catch up and she was moving quickly. From the first day of “I think I need to make more connection with people” to three days later being told she has four dates set up the next week. During which she forgot to lock in our long standing dates and had to rearrange so we could have that date. Then I’m told I have to leave early on my date because the guy she has seen twice in the week since this all started is coming over. I was feeling so cast aside and not considered at all. The entire time she is holding my hand and telling me it’s all okay.
I canceled the date and let her have her date with the new guy but asked to have a long talk about communication and being avoidant with information. She agreed to help me that she would slow down some and said she was sorry for being thoughtless when it came to scheduling. Since she wasn’t going to be able to see new guy for another week due to his schedule. So I decided to not come over and deal with the choice of “get okay real fast with new guy or bail out as fast as I can after work” I hated being backed into a corner like that without discussing it with me first. So, we agreed to help me along through my hard time she would slow down. Next night comes along. I’m already feeling hurt that we canceled the date for some guy she has known less than 2 weeks and he tried to cancel because of something with his dog. So she packs up her stuff goes over and has a topless make out session with him. Which we discussed after as definitely “not slowing down” and that this is her choice but she agreed to help me she would so I’m struggling to believe her when she says sweet or kind things to me because I think she is telling me what I want to hear.
I skip forward and I’m saying okay let’s meet this guy. Anytime I have been anxious about my wife dating when I have met the person I have been disarmed and more comfortable. So we meet. I wore a button up and some slacks. He wore sweatpants and no underwear which left nothing to the imagination. He is about 7 inches taller than me and built. He is literally everything social media and society tells me women want. I can’t be literally any of the things he can and it scares me to death that I’m just going to be set aside.
What is worse and makes it so hard is I struggled so much to make conversation or find him comfortable. This has ALWAYS happened with my other previous metas. It makes it so much scarier.
When this first started my partner and I did this sexual bucket list of thing we wanted from each other and now I can stop picturing her doing this with someone else and being left at home like my wants don’t matter. The hardest part is my partner and I have almost the exact same bucket lists and I was so blown away by someone who wanted these thing with me but now I’m scared I’ll never get those things and I’ll have to watch her have them with other people.
My partner is being kind and helpful but I’m having so much trouble not feeling hurt by her even when she hasn’t done anything wrong and it’s scaring me that I feel so guarded with her right now.
As you can see I’m overwhelmed by my insecurities right now.
It sounds like you are doing lots of things right. You are having lots of communication and clearly asking for what you need but not being pushy about it. Honestly it sounds like the biggest thing is just working on what is causing your insecurities. Fear can make us a bit crazy at times and blow everything out of proportions. I am always saying that PolySecure by Jessica Fern is an overrated book but I think this is the exact perfect situration to recommend the book.
Personally I think that while it is reasonable to ask her to slow down a bit for you the more important conversation should be about re-establishing what you mean to her. No good-looking guy should be able to shatter your self-confidence in yourself and your relationship if you are secure in knowing that what you bring to your relationship is unique and special. Focus on what is in your relationship instead of what isn't and what her other relationships might have.
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whorekneecentral · 2 years ago
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Okay so here is another vvd request because well its big virg and he haunts me in my filthy dreams anyways,
Reader going to one of his practices for the first time, wearing his jersey but….
Reader always teases virg on how robbo is her fav from the liverpool squad so while they are training she goes to the bathroom, changes into a robbo jersey. Obviously to get virg mad because mad big virg is daddy big virg.
With phrases 9 “you love pissing me off, dont you?” & 40 “i’ve been holding back all the things i want to do to you”
- vvd anon
shut up you get meeeeeee // prompts: “you love pissing me off, dont you?” + “i’ve been holding back all the things i want to do to you”
Virgil had dragged you from the warmth of your bed to join him at training today, and as much as you didn't want to go, you went.
But of course, it wasn't that easy. You figured if he was gonna drag you outta bed, the very least you were gonna do is annoy him. The moment you two left him, you started on about how much you were looking forward to see Andy, how you missed him and you two hadn't hung out with them in soooo long.
The way Virgil was gripping the steering wheel was enough to tell you he was annoyed but he brushed it off.
You had on one of his shirts, the big number 4 on the back but you disappeared half way through their session. Virgil just assumed you were cold and went inside and you did but you returned a few moments later.
From the front, the top looked the exact same as the one you had one before but the back was different; the 4 had be replaced with a 26.
Virgil didn't notice the jersey change until Andy himself pointed it out. The man slinging an arm over your shoulder, "looks like I've got a new fan," he told his teammate, Virgil's brows furrowed as he looked at you two confused.
You turn to show him the 26 on your back, "you know you've always been my favourite, robbo."
"Oh," he laughs, "Virg's got competition." Trent chimes in, getting glare from Virgil.
The comments died down and the boys were off for the rest of the day, you and Virgil were the first two out of there and the entire drive home was quiet; and to make thing worst, you kept the jersey on.
"You love pissing me off, don't you?" Virgil asks when you two walk into the house.
Your brows furrow, looking at your husband. "What did I do, sweetheart?"
Virgil can't help but roll his eyes, pulling you to him by your jersey. One tug and the red shirt is on the floor and your husband's got you over his shoulder, carrying you up the stairs and to the bedroom.
"Virg!" You smacked his back and the man drops you on the bed, getting on top of you. "I’ve been holding back all the things i want to do to you." He whispers against your lips.
"Then don't," you reach up to close the gap between you two.
It's a fight, the two of you pulling on each other and the clothes can't come off fast enough.
Virgil leans down, your legs pressed back as he kisses you. You can feel the tip of his cock brushing over your entrance. The panties being the only thing separating you two.
The kiss is heavy, heated, pulling him closer to you despite the fact that you’re on a weird angle right now.  
Your hand slips between the two of you, pushing the lace to the side. He smiles against your lips, you can feel the tip of his cock pressed between your folds before he pushes into you.
The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him.
Your legs over his shoulders, his hips digging into the back of your thighs with each thrust. Your hand was wrapped around his bicep, squeezing and nails digging into it.
He pushes the straps off your shoulders, tits spilling out over the top of the bra. Virgil glances down, letting you drop your legs from his shoulders. Instead, you wrap them around his waist and your husband leans down to kiss you once more, leaving a trial of marks and sloppy kisses until he reaches your tits.
There’s a faint purple mark between your tits; his favourite spot.
“You're so pretty like this,” he says.
"Shut up and fuck me, Virg." You pull him back down for another kiss.
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junisfics · 4 years ago
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All This Time — Armin Arlert (1)
series masterlist
Pairing: Armin Arlert x Reader
Word Count: 5.1k
Series Summary: Reader messages her best friend Armin late one night while she's drunk and needy, but will she remember the things she said to him in the morning, and if she does... will she regret it?
Part Summary: After Armin receives a disturbingly vague message from his best friend, he shows up to her house only to find her drunk and needy
Content: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut
Content Warnings: Sexual Content, Mentions of Masturbation, Sexual Fantasies
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You met Armin in your freshman year of high school. You had gone to separate middle schools, but those two schools fed into your then high school and you became classmates. You shared a band class together, Armin played clarinet and you played the piano. The entire band was split between two periods, you and Armin’s seventh period consisted of woodwinds while the other period held brass… percussion was split evenly between the two periods. 
That was the first game of chance.
The second one was after-school practice sessions with Mr. Steunberg. Apparently, Armin was struggling with sight-reading just as much as you were, so you were paired together for practice lessons on Mondays. And every Monday for the second semester of freshman year, you and Armin played your instruments in that little sound booth while your music teacher corrected you from outside.
Eventually, the twenty minutes between the end of school and the beginning of lessons was being shared between the two of you rather than each of you hiding off down some hallway. You had decided to come down the band hall early, conveniently at the same time Armin had as well. 
It started with one of you asking if the other had a certain teacher, followed by asking if they had completed the night’s assignment for that class. Over time, the floor distance between you two closed and you’d sit cross-legged on the carpeted floor just outside the booth, knee to knee, sharing snacks before Mr. Steunberg made his way from his History class and down to the band hall. You’d work on homework together and laugh over the squeaking mistakes from the neighboring booths.
Just around the time when you and Armin began to grow comfortable with each other, your organized lessons had stopped and your blooming friendship had been put on pause. Neither of you missed it too much, you barely knew each other, but you still smiled at each other in the halls and occasionally talked before your shared class if there was time, but there really wasn’t.
It was like that for a while; little waves, sentence-long conversations, awkward silences followed by equally as awkward good-byes. It was months before you ever talked the same way you had in that little hallway.
It wasn’t like you craved his presence. Christ, you would completely forget about him if you didn’t see him every day in class. But when he came up to you at the end of the day one day while you were sitting on the piano bench, waiting for the final bell to ring, you couldn’t help but smile.
You still remember the shirt he was wearing, how he pushed those thin-rimmed glasses he still wore up his nose as he talked with you, “Can you help me with sight-reading? I don’t wanna tell my mom I need lessons again and I’m embarrassed to ask anyone else.”
Of course, you had said yes to him, you wouldn’t be pulling your phone out in the middle of the night in the peak of summer to text him while you’re shit-faced to text him if you hadn’t.
Your practicing together turned into practicing and doing homework together, which turned into getting off track and watching YouTube videos together. Then came the hanging out outside of homework and lessons; goofing off at either of your neighborhood parks, walking down the road to get fast-food, running around in a grocery store because there was nothing else to do in the suburbs.
There wasn’t an exact moment where you agreed that you were best friends, it just happened. You were always there for him whenever he got pushed around by the baseball boys, when his parents got divorced and his grandfather moved in, when he got his acceptance letter to the college of his choice; and he was there for you for your first boyfriend and your first heartbreak, he was there when your dog was lost for five days… he being the one that found her, and when you got your acceptance letter, he was the one sitting next to you with open arms.
There were moments when you found yourselves distancing; when you got into little arguments. But at the end of the day, the love that each of you had for each other was stronger than anything. You always came back to him, and he to you. 
No matter how many times you broke his heart by flirting with him just to hook up with some random guy at a party the same day, told him that he was your ‘best friend’, talking about how he was ‘like a brother’ to you, he couldn't leave you and he couldn’t stop loving you.
Armin would do anything for you and you would do anything for Armin. This is why when he got your messages in the dead of the night, he was over to your apartment before he could even text back.
‘armin’ ‘come over’ ‘help’ ‘need help’
Every second between the moment he got your messages until he reached your door, he was mortified. His heart was pounding out of his chest, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering while swerving around corners recklessly, eyes flitting over your parking lot to try and find anything out of the ordinary.
He almost tripped on the curb of the sidewalk while running up to your building. He was whipping open doors and frantically pressing elevator buttons as his keys still jangled in his hands, he didn’t even think to shove them into his pockets. His eyes bore into the red, electric lettering at the frame of the elevator, watching the numbers increase with his hand pressing against the metal doors like it’ll somehow make it go faster.
Once he reaches your door, he knocks frantically, jolts of pain shooting through his knuckles as he does so.
And you’re right at the door waiting for him. You tug it open the second you hear him outside of it, a giant smile of relief on your face.
“Oh my god! Thank god you’re here! I was going to pass out from waiting so long,” You giggle, grabbing ahold of his forearm that was still outstretched from knocking and pulling him inside.
It took him a moment to realize that you’re alright, that you’re standing right there in front of him, unharmed and unscathed, with his sweatshirt pulled over you, the one he gave you before leaving for university. You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet as you grab at his arms to bring him forward, stumbling back over your own feet in the process which just sends you into another fit of giggles.
You had a slight sheen of sweat over your face and neck, not a lot, just enough so when your head turned to look behind you the kitchen lights bounced against the gloss on your skin. You didn’t have pants on as well, just these light grey boy-short panties that completely exposed the length of your legs.
It wasn’t like Armin hasn’t seen you in a swimsuit before. Many times your parents had taken you on trips to a lake where you would go tubing and swimming for hours on end until you were both drained of all your energy. But seeing you in, presumably, nothing but his sweatshirt and panties that bared your thighs and bottom curves of your ass had him far more flabbergasted than a swimsuit ever could.
“You’re — you’re okay?” He asks, voice still wavering with concern as you continue to drag him towards the kitchen.
“Absolutely not!” You sound serious, “I need help… with making my dessert.” Your faux serious tone falls apart and you’re choking back another wave of laughter.
Armin watches you incredulously but intently as you slide your hands down his forearms until both of your hands meet his own, giving them a squeeze before spinning around and gripping the kitchen island’s counter.
You have an array of stainless steel bowls crowded beside each other while a mixture of dry baking goods sits unstirred in one of the bowls. You shuffle through the measuring cups and spoons before picking up a large wooden spoon and holding it up to Armin, presenting it to him, like you’ve found a block of gold.
When you turn away from him, he looks over the state of the kitchen. Sugar and flour remnants cover the countertops, series of baking instruments litter them as well, and on the kitchen table is a bottle of vodka.
And then it hits him; you’re playful nature, unpredictability, clumsiness, and intimacy.
“Are you drunk?” He asks you. He isn’t disappointed, or angry, just slightly taken aback.
You bring your head up from the bowl and tilt your head side to side like you were thinking over his question, “A little.”
It was much more than ‘a little’. Before you had even started drinking you were in a playful mood. You had just gotten the offer for a summer job for lifeguarding at the apartment complex’s pool and you thought to celebrate by binging your favorite television show and having a few shots. Then, a few shots turned to many and you were dancing around your living room while having the time of your life before you had settled on making yourself some food. ‘Another celebration’ you had convinced yourself.
But the measuring and the mixing were too hard and who else was there to call other than your best friend?
“Oh my god.” Armin smiles, shaking his head at you and making his way towards you as you continue to mix at god-knows-what you’ve put into that bowl, “You need actual food, not whatever you’re making here.”
You let go of the spoon, letting out a little huff of frustration at his words, scrunching your nose real cutely as you turn towards him. You take the front of his tee-shirt in your hands, gently fiddling with the fabric as you pout.
“I want dessert, Armin.” You whine, bringing your head forward to rest your cheek on his chest. Your chest was pressing against his torso, bare legs knocking against his own.
“’Tomorrow-You’ is going to thank me for not letting you have dessert.” He awkwardly brings one of his hands to your back, patting it a few times before letting his hand rest between your shoulder blades.
“Please?” You whisper, tilting your head up until he can feel your tiny breaths against his chin. Armin hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat begins to pick up in his chest at your close proximity.
“No… No, I’ll — I’ll make you toast or something, how does that sound?” He suggests, snaking his hands between the two of you to gently nudge you off him.
But the space between the two of you is quickly closed when your slide your hands up his chest and around his neck, “Don’t want toast.” You murmur, standing up on the tips of your toes to get in his eye-line. Your nose was only a breath away from his.
Armin carefully takes your wrists in his hands, taking your arms off him as he stammers out, “Well, you’re going to have toast.”
You let out another noise of frustration as you pull yourself away from him, your hands balling into fists at your sides while he pulls open your fridge for the loaf of bread on the top shelf. You watch him with your head tilted in fascination like you’ve never seen bread before, admiring the way his hair falls into his eyes as his pretty hands unwrap the plastic sleeve of the loaf then tug the toaster away from the counter backsplash.
He truly was so beautiful. You always contained your attraction towards him so well, but now your restraint was slipping.
You prance over to him, slipping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his back as he slides two slices of bread from the loaf. His skin is so warm beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders and back flex as he moves his arms, his abdominal muscles twitching as well in reaction to your fingertips skimming over them.
God, he’s so fucking nervous. 
Why is he so nervous? 
Because you’re all over him in just panties and his shirt when he’s had a crush on you for as long as he can remember. You’re being so touchy, so intimate with him, he’s afraid he might explode.
“Go sit down. Can’t — can’t help you if you’re in my way.” He says. Oh but he could help you, he could help you even if you were hanging on him like a spider monkey, he’s just afraid you’ll realize your effect on him if you do so.
“I just wanna be close to you. You’re so cute.” You nuzzle your head under his left arm until you and slip your whole body under it and stand ever so slightly in front of him, wedged between his torso and the countertop.
Your hands play with the hem of his shirt as you look up to him, your eyes glossy, and your pupils were blown. Armin tries his best to keep himself subtly distanced from you, but it’s no use. Every time he inches away, you’re just back on him. 
You’re sliding your hands up his chest, fingers tracing over his jaw and cheekbones as you cling to his side. He can feel your hips knocking against his, your thighs rubbing against his as you shift around to try and get closer. Your fingers follow along the curves of his neck, tracing down his throat then skimming over his collarbones.
“Sit here then. Sit on the counter.” Armin grabs ahold of your torso and pushes you against the counter, the edge of it rutting into the small of your back. You grab ahold of his biceps and let out a flirty little giggle at what his actions could be insinuating.
Your fingers press into the plush muscle of his arms as he strains to lift you, your heels grappling at the cabinets below you to try and aid him. His waist ends up slipped between your knees when you’re finally seated, and you can feel your body flush hot with arousal.
You were already sweating from the exertion you had put forward before he had arrived, but the added closeness with Armin was just driving you crazy.
“Now sit, and stay.” Armin places his hands in front of you to enforce his directions.
You giggle a few times, smiling at the fact that he’s treating you like a dog, “Woof.” 
Armin slips his waist out from your knees to come to your left slide, plucking the now toasted bread from the toaster and setting it on a napkin. He pulls open the drawer to his right for a butter knife, then snatches the butter from the island and brings it to your toast. 
His hands shake as he pulls the glass top of the butter dish, they shake as he dips the knife into the butter, and continues to shake as he spreads the butter over the first piece of toast. He can feel your thigh brushing against his hip as you swing your legs.
You begin to breathe heavier, the heat of exhaustion and heat of arousal begin to grow overwhelming. You fan your face a few times, pushing your hair off your neck, before grabbing the hem of his sweatshirt and pulling it up and over your head.
“What — what are you doing?” Armin stammers, taking a tiny step away from you.
You absentmindedly fold the sweatshirt before setting it aside to fan your face again, “It’s so hot… I think it’s you, Armin.”
You can see his face flush red this time, his ears as well, turning his cheeks and nose a pretty pink shade that doesn’t help your problem.
Armin tries to ignore you, he really does, but it’s so difficult because now you’re in this skimpy little tank top with spaghetti straps. And the straps are slipping off your shoulders and Jesus fucking christ you’re not wearing a bra. He can’t stop his eyes from flitting over your scantily clad figure, drinking in the way your thighs squish against the counter, the curve of your ass as it’s pressed to the granite, the way your nipples tease the thin fabric of your skin.
“Have I ever told you that? That you’re so fine?” You giggle, running a finger down his bicep as he finishes buttering your toast. You’re so grateful that he’s got that stupid white tee shirt on, the one that keeps your gaze lingering over the lean muscle in his chest and back.
“Um, n — no. Toast is done, hop down.” He refuses to make eye contact because if he does, he’s scared he won’t be able to stop himself from kissing you.
“Help.” You pout, reaching out your hands and grabbing for his shoulders.
Armin listens to your plea, setting the toast back down and grabbing ahold of your waist to slide you off the counter. But instead of bringing your feet to the floor, you wrap your legs around his waist and hook your arms around his neck. You have to tilt your head down to look into his eyes, only to see his pupils blown and lashes fluttering as he blinks.  He doesn’t push you off him. Instead, he uses his left hand to snatch the food off the counter while his right hand comes to brace your lower back. 
He’s afraid he’s going to have a heart attack now; feeling your thighs wrapped around him, your cunt hovering just right over his growing cock, your back arching your chest so close to his face that he swears if he looked down he would get a perfect view of your tits, your parted lips all glossy, breath fanning over the bridge of his nose as you run your fingers over the curves of his pretty pink lips.
Fuck. He was definitely getting off to this later.
You’re giggling all the while, and to an extent, you know exactly the effect you have on him. It’s cute, the way he stumbles around your house and trying to keep his footing as he brings you to your bedroom. 
“C’mon, Armin. At least take me on a date first,” You tease as he kneels down to bring your backside to the foot of the bed. Once your legs release his waist, he stands again.
“I’m — I’m not trying — we’re not —” He stutters, bringing his hands forward again like he’s scared you’ll pounce on him.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to. Armin wants nothing more in the entire world than to have you beneath him, to have his cock sheathed inside you, to have you moan out his name as you cum around his cock…
But he couldn’t let it happen like this.
You were drunk, so so drunk. And you probably didn’t even know what you were saying.
“We can if you want to.” You speak softly, your knees knocking together as you settle into your seat, fiddling with your hands in your lap as if you got all shy all of a sudden.
And when you look up to him through your lashes, brows furrowed slightly in a pout, Armin almost caves. But he catches himself just as fast, shoving your toast in front of you like it’s a shield.
Your eyes shift down to the food that’s presented before you, and your pout turns into a cute little smile as you daintily take it from his hands. You let the napkin rest in your left palm as you hold the food in your right, immediately taking a little bite out of it.
“You want some water?” Armin asks, still standing in front of you.
You give him a nod without looking up, taking another bite out of the toast while he fills up the cup that he knew rested beside your bathroom sink. As he stands in front of the mirror he takes a moment to breathe in and out deeply as the water fills the cup.
You were going to be the death of him.
“You know, I mean it when I say you’re attractive,” He hears you say, still sitting all obediently on your bed and waiting for him to return, “Everyone’s like, ‘oh Armin got so hot!’, but I always thought you were cute… you just got so — nnghh — in the past year.”
He returns with your glass of water, holding it out to you as you finish chewing. You take it from him gently, holding it in both your hands, careful not to drop it, as you take little sips.
He knew you were being irrational, but he truly hopes you mean what you say.
When you finish drinking, you pat your hand against the mattress as you set your cup to the floor. You want him close again, want the warmth he radiates both physically and spiritually. Armin listens to your ask and sits beside you carefully, running his hands over his thighs as you pull your legs up on the mattress and cross them under you.
“Do you think I’m pretty?” You ask, voice getting tiny again.
That was real… that question… he’s so sure of it. You were always insecure about your looks when you had no reason to be, but he had no idea that you cared what he thought about you.
“I — um… I — I don’t think my — my opinion matt —” He tries to get it to come out sounding right, but the moment he opens his mouth he already knows he’s failed terribly.
“Do… do you not think I’m pretty?” He can hear the feeling of betrayal in your voice, you turn your head away from him.
“No! No, y/n, I think you’re really pretty —”
You grab ahold of his shirt collar and tug him towards you as you let your back fall to the mattress. His torso comes over you and his hand shoots out beside your head to keep him from falling atop you. He can’t even bring himself to pull off of you, because your noses are touching and he can feel your knees knocking against the left side of his waist.
“I — you’re — God, y/n you’re so pretty. Don’t ever think I don’t think that.” He breathes, trying so hard to your lips from touching, for his own sake.
Your mouth splits into a smile and a little laugh escapes your lips. Your free hand grabs ahold of his shirt as well, assuring both you and him that he isn’t going anywhere. You look down to his lips, slightly parted as he pants heavily to keep his composure.
“No, but you don’t understand,” You keep your eyes on his lips, fighting the desire to kiss him, ���You’re so fucking hot.”
Armin’s breath gets caught in his throat because you had spoken that in a borderline whimper. Your bottom lip had been taken between your teeth after you finished speaking, and he swears he could see your back arch slightly.
It was completely visible now, how much you needed him. You were holding onto him for dear life, your thighs were squeezing together and your arched back had your stomach brushing against his. You looked at him through half-lidded eyes, irises filled with lust and hunger.
Armin’s so grateful that your legs are to his side and now wrapped around his waist again because he would not have been able to stop himself from grinding down against you… it would have been completely involuntary.
“And — and don’t tell anyone this but sometimes… sometimes I get off to you,” You bring your voice to a whisper as you reveal your secret, lifting your head to move closer to him. He can feel your lips brush against his as you speak, “Actually... like all the time.”
Armin lets out an audible exhale, his jaw slacking at your revelation, he has to shut his eyes again.
“Do you get off to me too?” You ask. And you speak like you didn’t just reveal that to him, bringing your head back down to the mattress and smiling.
Of course he does. Of course he does. 
Junior year of high school you offered to be his first kiss, just for fun, ‘cause you were friends, right? And you wanted to help him get it over with. 
But every night since then, Armin has gotten off to you; laid back in his bed with his cock in his fist, and whispering your name as he cums.
“I — we’re best friends — y/n, I —”
“Best friends don’t wanna fuck each other, Armin.” You say, your voice losing all its playfulness and growing serious like you had suddenly become sober.
You stare into his pretty blue eyes for a moment, letting your own flit between the two of his. You were watching for any change in his expression, any look of disgust or repulsion, but you don’t find any. He just keeps that same incredulous, lust-filled look on his face.
He looks over you as well. Your eyes were still so droopy and hazy, your lips parted like you’re manually breathing. You were so drunk that it almost hurt him. You weren’t going to remember a single thing in the morning, and the two of you would be back to square one because Armin would never be able to repeat to you what you said to him or admit his searing desire for you.
Armin can feel your grip on his shirt tighten once more, and instead of lifting your head to him, you pull him down to you.
“I need you,” You whisper, voice shaking with arousal, “Fuck me... please.”
Armin swallows hard, his arms beginning to shake under his weight. He was going to fucking explode. He needed a break, just a moment, anything so he can catch his breath and regain some of his composure.
Christ, he was so fucking hard. If you were sober, he wouldn’t hesitate for a single second to rip off both of your clothes and push his cock inside you.
“I can’t — you’re drunk,” He murmurs, and you can hear the hurt in his voice. You can hear the fact that he truly wanted to do what you begged him for.
“No, Armin, I want it. I need it. I mean it, I swear.” You plead, your hands pawing at his shirt like he was attempting to get away from you and you wanted him to stay. But Armin was set put, he wasn’t moving, he couldn’t move even if he wanted.
“I need your cock.”
“Not — not now. You need to sleep this off. You’re… you’re not yourself right now,” He takes his eyes off yours, closing them once more and squeezing them shut.
“I’ve — I’ve always wanted you though. Always, I promise.” You continue, hoping that somehow you’ll convince him.
It was true. You wish he could understand how true it was. All the guys you had gotten with after-parties, after football games… they were all just replacements, they were fill-ins for him. You would pretend that it was him that was filling you up, gripping your hips and whispering dirty things against your ear. And for seconds at a time, it would work and you would convince yourself that Armin was right there with you.
And every time you would see him helping another girl with school work, see them flirting with him and getting touchy with him, playing with his glasses or drawing shapes on his hands with a pen… this disgusting feeling would churn around in your stomach and bubble up into your throat. And although Armin was oblivious to their flirting, it still hurt so fucking bad.
“I’ve always wanted you too… just — just not like this. Just sleep it off, okay? And — and then we’ll talk.” His left hand wraps around your waist while his right switches to brace beside your head. He grabs ahold of your torso and shimmies you up the bed until your head meets the pillow.
He sits back on his calves, his left arm sliding out from under you while his right hand brushes your messy hair out of your face before petting your head.
“And, and you’ll fuck me in the morning?” You ask, completely genuine.
Armin swallows hard again, pulling himself away from you and helping you slide your body under your sheets, “If — if you still want me to.”
You look up to him with your eyes full of admiration as he smoothes the sheets over your body, “I’ll always want you to.”
It comes out sounding much more intimate than it actually is to say that ‘you’ll always want Armin to fuck you’. And Armin lets his eyes meet yours again, matching the love that’s filled them.
He smiles to hide the doubt he has inside his chest. In the morning, you’ll either regret every word and ghost him or you’ll forget everything you’ve admitted. Both options made Armin’s heart hurt, but he decides that you leaving him would be the worst of the two. He wouldn’t know what to do if you’d never talk to him again. So for now, he truly hopes you forget.
Armin pulls his hands away from you, shuffling his knees on the bed to get off of it. But before he can bring his feet to the ground, you grab ahold of his wrist.
“Stay, please.” You ask, your eyes struggling to stay open. He wonders if you even know that you’re talking.
He listens to you anyway, bringing his hand down to the mattress as he slips himself under the sheets and next to you. And if he wasn’t sure about staying before, he sure was now because you were so warm and so soft as you shimmied back against him. You take his arm and sling it over your waist, letting his palm splay out over your stomach. You can feel every rise of his chest against your back.
You were going to doze off so easily, he was so warm, he was so comforting. You could feel sleep beginning to creep up on you quickly. But before you let it take over, you slide your hand back and between your bodies to grab the source of the hard thing poking into your ass.
“You’re so hard,” You giggle.
Armin chokes on his breath again and grabs your wrist to pull your hand off his dick, “Stop. Go — go to bed.”
You listen this time, retracting your hand to slip it over his that rests on your stomach, interlacing your fingers as you succumb to your exhaustion.
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lena-in-a-red-dress · 4 years ago
Text
Needles & Ink, Pt 2 (NSFW)
Lena slips in the back door of the InkSpot. She pauses just inside, absorbing the utter silence that fills the place. Gone is the thumping music, and buzzing of machines. Gone is the bustle of clients coming and going. It's completely and utterly still.
At nearly 4am, it's well past normal operating hours, even for the night crowd. Lena knows she herself ought to be in bed, catching as many winks as she could before her next morning meeting, but-- even after a day of committees and endless reports, Lena is absolutely wired. She'd known tugging on James' door would be a long shot, but when it opened she'd hoped her fellow night owl might be down for a late tattoo session. 
Looking out across the darkened shop, though, it seems more likely that James has simply forgotten to lock the back door. She pulls out her phone, intent on teasing James into oblivion, but freezes when an odd sound drifts out of James' office.
It sounds almost like a moan, but when it's followed by another, longer moan of a different pitch, Lena realizes someone is humming. Someone in the office is humming a Bonnie Tyler song.
Total Eclipse of the Heart, to be exact. 
Lena saunters silently to the office door and leans against it, taking a moment to observe Kara Danvers humming along to the music playing in her ears. She's bent over paperwork, and despite the hour and the solitude a soft smile graces her lips, pulling one to Lena's own face at the sight of it.
"You look good," she says in a low voice.
Kara jumps violently in her seat, jolting the entire desk with the force of her gasp.
"Oh my sweet baby Jesus!!" she exclaims, pressing a hand to her chest. When she looks up, Kara sags at the sight of Lena. "You scared me!"
Lena watches Kara remove her earbuds, and folds her arms over her chest, still leaning against the door frame. "Sorry," she purrs unapologetically. She smiles. "How are you? It's been a while."
"Good, good. I mean, I'm-- I'm in Metropolis! Wait-- you're in Metropolis! What are you doing here??"
Lena gives a tilt of her head. "Business. I may have moved my company to National City, but it still feels as though I do more business here than there these days."
"Right, um..." Kara suddenly looks nervous, casting a worried look past Lena into the hallway. "Sorry, but um.... we're kind of closed? Actually-- how did you get in here?"
Lena huffs a faint laugh. "Back door. James lets me slip in now and then. I was hoping he would have time for a quick session."
"Oh, um... I'm the only one here. Sorry."
"Don't be," Lena smiles. "It's good to see you. Is James treating you well? I don't need to yell at him, do I?"
"Oh, no! No, no, he's been great-- everyone has been really amazing, truly. I couldn't have asked for better hosts. I've been loving it here."
Lena nods, glad to hear it. Pushing off the door jamb, she lets her arms fall, clasping her hands in front of her. "Well, I won't keep you. It was good to see you--"
"W-wait!" Kara jerks to her feet, slamming into the desk yet again in her haste to keep Lena from leaving. Lena pauses, biting back a smile at her clumsiness. "James isn't here, but I am. Why don't we do some more work on your crane?"
"Oh, it's late--"
"No, I-- I mean, I'll text James to make sure it's okay, but... I'm down if you are."
Lena regards her for a long moment. 
"Okay."
--- 
There’s something ethereal in the moments that follow. James gives his blessing, which Kara barely notices past the distraction that is Lena Luthor unbuttoning her blouse. Backlit by a halo of neon light, she looks like a hazy dream, long and beautiful and full of mystery even as she lays herself bare. 
In deference to the late hour, Kara keeps the overheads off, and simply turns on her worklight. The spill of light pulls Lena���s attention to her, catching her watching. In the shadows, Lena smiles coyly. 
“Like what you see?” Lena asks, casting her shirt aside. She takes a wide stance, presenting herself to Kara’s gaze in all her tattooed glory. Maybe it’s the late hour, but Kara allows her gaze to linger, charting a path from the stylized storm brewing at Lena’s collarbones, to the dragon that disappears down one hip. 
“Always,” she murmurs.
Lena looks aside for a moment-- when she looks back, it’s with a heat that sends a bolt of desire straight to Kara’s core. She takes a breath that quakes in her lungs, and then suddenly Lena is there, tucking a wisp of hair behind Kara’s ear.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since our first session,” Lena murmurs. 
A flush heats Kara’s neck and face. “Me either,” she confesses. “I mean. You too--”
Her blunder is swallowed by a kiss. Lena’s lips press against Kara’s, warm and soft and absolutely intoxicating. Kara lifts her hands, framing Lena’s face and pulling her closer to deepen the kiss. She’s rewarded with a muted moan, and Lena’s hands on her hips, thumbs brushing beneath the hem of Kara’s tank top.
“You are so beautiful,” Kara breathes when they part, panting for air. There’s an insistent throbbing between her legs, aching for more. Lena’s hand cups her gently, making her whimper. 
“May I?” Lena whispers against her ear. Biting her lip, Kara nods. Only then does Lena unbutton Kara’s jeans with her long fingers, peeling the denim away to reveal her panties. Kara’s completely forgotten hat she’s wearing until Lena laughs, low and throaty in Kara’s ear.
The pizza panties. Goddammit. 
“I love them,” Lena murmurs, reassuring her. “But I’d love them even better on my bedroom floor.”
Oh god. Kara envisions a clean penthouse apartment, spotless save for the mess of their discarded clothes. But here in the shop? Gross.
“Guess I’ll just have to make do,” Lena says, hitching up the legs of her trousers to kneel between Kara’s legs. In moments, Kara’s pants and panties are both below her hips and a warm tongue sweeps through her folds, collecting the moisture of her arousal in a single taste. Lena hums with pleasure before her thumb gets to work against Kara’s bare clit. 
Kara quivers, nearly staggering as her body reacts. Lena’s hands brace her hips, steadying her. 
“All right there?” she asks, playfully teasing. Kara whimpers with a nod. To her surprise, Lena guides Kara’s leg to rest over her shoulder, until Kara’s stretched and gaping at her very core. “Press against me if you need to.”
Kara nods again. She doesn’t last long. In mere moments she’s moaning and writhing against Lena’s mouth, shuddering as waves of ecstasy roll through her. Lena’s tongue continues to guide her through her orgasm, pressing firmly to calm her through the aftershocks. When she finally pulls away, Kara can’t bend down fast enough to kiss her own taste away from Lena’s lips.
“On the table,” Kara urges, pulling Lena from her knees. She hastily pulls her pants up, but leaves them unfastened as she quickly devotes her attention to the curves of Lena’s body. Lena doesn’t quite make it on top of the table. She settles for leaning against its edge as she kisses Kara soundly, her hands buried in Kara’s hair. 
Kara kisses her messily, wet and sloppy, but Lena can’t seem to get enough. She only pulls her hands away to fumble at the back zipper of her dress pants, until Kara nudges her. “Turn around,” she murmurs.
Lena turns, and Kara carefully unzips her trousers. They fall to her ankles, exposing the rest of Lena’s tattoos. Kara takes a moment to admire them, kneeling to run her hands from Lena’s hip to her ankle, tracing the shape of the tiger clawing up one leg and the dragon coiling down the other. Even in the low light Kara can see the artistry, the mastery of the craft that has been inked into Lena’s skin. And there, curving around Lena’s ribs, a crane peeks out-- Kara’s own offering to the altar that is Lena’s body.
Unlike Kara’s pizza panties, Lena is resplendent in black lace. The fabric hugs Lena’s hips and ass in a tantalizing display. Kara can barely breathe as she stands and runs her fingers across the floral threadwork. Her whimper is eclipsed by a wonton moan from Lena’s throat, her hips pressing out and back against Kara’s hands.
“Kara…”
Lena’s voice is heady, even breathless. It sends a shudder of delirium down Kara’s spine. How is this her life. But Lena’s need is real and evident in the heady utterance, prompting Kara to hook her fingers under the panties and delicately sliding them down Lena’s hips. Every inch of Lena’s inked buttocks steals Kara’s breath, leaving her gasping by the time Lena shifts plaintively in her heels. Finally, Kara cups Lena from behind, and when Kara finds arousal nearly dripping from Lena’s core, she swallows thickly.
“Relax for me, baby girl.”
Lena shudders, sending a gush of fresh warmth into Kara’s palm. Leaning forward, Kara slides one hand down to Lena’s wrist, pressing it against the table as she slips two fingers into Lena’s folds. Gently, she begins to thrust.
“Harder,” Lena gasps almost immediately. She shifts her stance until Kara’s fingers hit a new spot. Kara nods, catching Lena’s gaze when she turns her head to look over one bare shoulder. She increases her speed, adds just a touch more pressure, and is rewarded with a hitch in Lena’s breath. Soon Lena is moaning with every breath, her back glistening with building sweat as her body temperature rises. 
Suddenly, Lena’s body shudders with a piercing moan, her walls clenching tight around Kara’s fingers. Just as she begins to come down, Kara releases Lena’s wrist to slip between her hips and the table to press her thumb against Lena’s clit, rubbing swift, furious circles until Lena crests again with a sharp gasp.
When she recovers, Lena turns against the table to loop her arms around Kara’s neck. Kara wraps herself around Lena’s bare skin, nuzzling against her neck, nibbling at her pulse point. 
“You’re incredible,” Lena murmurs. 
Kara hums against Lena’s neck. 
“I’m not finished yet.”
---
Kara draws back to wipe her hair from her eyes. Lena lays before her on a freshly sterilized table in nothing but her bra and panties, looking sleepy and relaxed despite the blood stippling to the surface of her skin.
“You know,” Kara observes, “not everyone would follow sex with a tattoo chaser.”
Lena smiles. “Their loss,” she murmurs. “I highly recommend it.”
Forgoing the use of a stencil, Kara had freehanded the plumage of the crane directly onto Lena’s skin, and already she could see the bird coming to life.
Kara smirks. “Not everyone is a masochist.”
“Imagine tattooing while having sex,” Lena drawls. “Now that would be kinky.”
A laugh bursts out of Kara, earning a deep grin from Lena. With her hair loose and sweaty, Lena is a veritable dream-- to have her skin under Kara’s needle is an honor on a bed of honors. The atmosphere is slow and silky around them, like the world outside has slowed to a standstill without them. Kara savors every moment, lest it all slip away. 
“So how has Metropolis treated you so far?” Lena asks, watching Kara dip her needle in fresh ink. She relaxes back when Kara approaches, allowing her easy access to the tattoo site. She doesn’t flinch when Kara resumes. “Still taking walk-ins? Besides me, of course.”
Kara grins, even as she focuses on what she’s doing. “You’re the first one I’ve taken in weeks, actually. Most people are looking for big, personal pieces, so the walk ins don’t really happen you know?” She pauses. “I’ve already started booking back at Argo, since my time here is already booked up.”
“Really? Congratulations!”
“Thanks.” Kara can’t help but blush. “But you know… something tells me I probably have you to thank for all this.”
Lena regards her. “Oh? How so?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re the only canvas I’ve worked on that James Olsen would have seen.”
Lena’s lips part in a silent ah. She regards Kara for a long moment, before reaching out a hand to halt Kara’s ministrations. With a single touch, she pulls Kara’s entire attention to her. 
“I didn’t suggest anything, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
Kara doesn’t respond, and thereby tips her hand: it’s exactly what she’s afraid of. That a top-paying client threatened to withdraw their business unless James agreed to take on an unknown artist from a strip mall in National City.
Lena cups her cheek gently.
“All I did was show James the work you’d done-- as I would for any piece I was proud of.” She holds Kara’s gaze, allowing her to see the truth in Lena’s eyes. “Anything he did after that is entirely on you and your body of work. Do you hear me?”
Kara releases a shaky breath, laughing slightly. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “I hear you.” She wipes her eyes with the back of her arm. “Now lay back so I can finish.”
Lena does so, but her eyes don’t leave Kara. Kara can feel her gaze linger, until she’s too immersed in her art to be aware of anything else. 
---
“This,” Lena says hours later, pressing cash into Kara’s hand, “is for the tattoo. Just to be clear.”
Without even looking at it, Kara tucks it away. “Good to know.”
“Wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea,” Lena winks, earning a chuckle in return.
“Right. Absolutely. But you know…”
“Hmmm?”
Kara tugs Lena closer by the hips, bringing their fronts flush together. Taing advantage of their proximity, Kara kisses her deeply. “You’re going to need some touch ups.”
Lena smiles against her, then kisses her again. 
“Well, then…. I guess I’ll just have to see you again.”
“You will.” Kara creeps her hands playfully up Lena’s shirt, only for Lena to pull away with a good natured laugh.
“I have to go, but, ah… I’ll see you later?”
Kara watches Lena back away towards the rear entrance, a smile ever present on her lips.
“Yeah. You will.”
It’s not until long after Lena leaves that Kara realizes. 
She didn’t get Lena’s phone number.
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writingthingsisdifficult · 3 years ago
Text
Good intentions
Bucky Barnes x reader
Had to divide the story into four parts, and I’m working as fast as I can to finish the rest.
Please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think :) Especially if you like it.
Everybody's alive.
When Natasha catches your reaction to seeing a soaking wet Bucky coming in from the rain, your life becomes unbearable. Nat considers herself a decent matchmaker, but what happens when both her subjects are resisting her attempts?
***
Part 1: Matchmaker
Word count: 4412
It had been raining for weeks. Racing streaks down the glass. Soft drumming against the umbrella. Big, fat drops of water splashing against the pavement, sending shivers through my body whenever they hit my skin. Two in rapid succession on my neck – don't know how, though, my coat collar was pulled up as high as it could go, and my umbrella was larger than average. Then one straight into my ear, which made me squeak in disgust. This had to be an omen.
I shook my umbrella before stepping through the door. No need to be a savage, though from the look of it, I was the only one who cared. A quick nod good morning to Nesta in the reception while making a mental note to call down the cleaning crew. The state of the floor was appalling. Mud and dirt and water – apparently not everyone remembered to wipe their feet before entering the building. And umbrellas all along the wall, dripping on the tiles, creating puddles so large a toddler would happily jump in them.
A long sigh escaped. Time for a stern talk with Nesta again. This was supposed to be a good first impression, not an impression of someone's mudroom. My stomach twisted, this was just the latest in a long string of minor complaints. If she didn't improve soon, I would have to make a note in her file and I hated being strict. Still, it was a part of my job, just like running errands before eight in the morning and longing for the coffee I left in my office. I didn't have to like it.
The elevator pinged. “Hey, Y/N.” Natasha walked out with a smile on her face. Her hair was red again, like flames cascading over her shoulders. Damn, that woman really could carry any hair colour. I nodded and smiled back. “Good morning, Agent Romanov. You're in early. What can I do for you? Love your hair, by the way."
"Thanks. I was wondering if you could help me with something."
I shook off my coat and adjusted the bag on my shoulder. "Of course. What do you need? Let me just –""
The door blew open, banging into the doorstopper before closing behind a sopping wet figure and an umbrella that definitely had seen better days. "Good morning, Y/N. Hey, Nat. Have you seen Clint?" Bucky shook himself, sending a glittering spray of water everywhere.
"No, but check the roof."
The air was knocked straight out of me. I couldn't stop the tiny squeak that tumbled over my lips.  The way his hair stuck to his face did things to me, not to mention how the water glistened on his metal arm. I hadn't felt heat on my face like that since I was seventeen and spilled juice all over my shirt in front of my neighbour Todd.
Swallowing the rest of the rude noises hovering in my throat, I forced a smile and nodded to the elevator. "Saw him by the coffee machine on the third floor earlier, Sargent Barnes." My voice was breathier that usual, and I cursed the weather for calling me out like that, while simultaneously praying to any deities listening that nobody noticed.
"Thanks." He marched to the elevator with a pace that would divide a crowd of people without a word.
Natasha looked between Bucky and me, a devilish smile spreading on her face. Once he was out of earshot, she bumped me with her elbow. “So, Bucky, huh?”
The heat crept up my ears and settled in my temples. Surely I was no more than two seconds from combusting? “What? I don’t… no, I mean –" I drew a big breath and steeled my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, what was it you needed my help with?”
Her eyes locked on mine. "Never mind that… You're a terrible liar."
A good point. I let out a small wheeze and scrunched my eyes shut. "Fine! Yes, Sargent Barnes is a tall drink of water. Is that what you want me to say? Well, yeah, okay. Maybe I do have a thing for him." The defeat was inevitable. Already my intestines were squirming. Nothing good could come from this.
Natasha looked like it was Christmas and her birthday all at once. "I knew it!"
I shrugged, ignoring the rising chill in my chest. How to best deescalate this before it got out of hand? "Well, you are a superspy after all. But please, PLEASE, don't say anything to him. I like my job. Besides, he's a fucking superhero. I'm just… me."
"Just you?" She shook her head lightly and rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, I mean, come on! Look at me!" Holding my arms out, I swayed from side to side. I never liked to draw attention to my body, but apparently she needed the extra visual.
Natasha arched her eyebrow. "I am looking."
She was good, but I couldn't to give up that easily. "Yes, and then you clearly see that I'm ordinary. People like him don't fall for people like me. He's too perfect for that."
"Perf… perfect?" She snorted. "Y/N, Bucky's a mess. He's basically a cucumber with anxiety. Damn, you really have it bad if –"
"I know he has issues. You all do. I'm the one booking everybody's therapy sessions, remember? I'm not talking about his trauma. I'm talking about the fact that he's sweet as a marshmallow and his smile could power a small European country if Stark only found a way to harness its brilliance –"
"And the fact that he's got those broad shoulders and could probably lift and throw a bus if he wanted…"
"And that," I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck to stop that annoying heat from spreading even more. That was a delicious picture, alright. "But I'm nothing special."
"Y/N, sweetie, what are you talking about? You know everything, who's supposed to be where, what we're doing, when we come and go – that's practically a superpower right there. Don't downplay yourself."
The laughter came out dry and humourless. She had to be kidding. Being organised and good at puzzles wasn't exactly rocket science. And besides, I didn't even have a good memory. Without my trusty calendar and phone I'd be running around like Hei-Hei.
"Appreciate your confidence in me, but I don't think so, Nat," I countered and repeated: "Please don't tell him."
She sighed. "I won't."
I tilted my head and put on my best mom-voice. "Promise me."
Her shoulders slumped forward, and she lifted her hand in the air. "I promise I will never tell James Buchanan Barnes about your crush." There was a small pause. "Partypooper!"
"Who's a partypooper?"
I yelped and spun around, looking into Tony's smiling face. "Oh my god, Tony, I mean, Mr Stark." Why did he have to be so stealthy? A big, flashy guy like him ought to be required to announce his arrival with trumpets and drums. Through my galloping heartbeats I noted the glasses were new though, and wondered what kind of new tech they really were. They suited him.
He smirked. “Not the first time a lady has said that to me. But you didn’t answer my question.”
Exhaling, I closed my eyes, just barely resisting the urge to pinch my nose – or maybe kick him in the shin as a diversion. This was going to hell with the express train. “No one. No one's a partypooper.”
“Really?” He turned to Natasha. “Nat?”
I shook my head vigorously, bringing forth all malice I had to my eyes, which I have been told is substantial.
"Y/N has a crush and –"
"Ooh, is it me?" He winked and wiggled his eyebrows.
That made me laugh. "What? Oh, god no." Then I immediately felt bad for my reaction.
"Okay, a little bit insulted, but whatever…"
"She won't let me tell Bucky that she's in love with him," Natasha continued as if she had never been interrupted.
Tony gasped, a look of absolute delight in his eyes.
It was as if the ground disappeared beneath me. A rush of adrenaline almost knocked me off my feet. "Natasha! You promised."
She shrugged and pointed at Tony. "I promised not to tell Bucky. Last I checked, that is not him."
This time I did pinch the bridge of my nose and exhaled deeply, then groaned silently. “Nat!” Even I could hear the desperation in my voice. “Sargent Barnes is a friend. Well, uh, a colleague. Of sorts. I do not -“
“So you didn’t just squeak and burst into flames when he came through that door, huh?” She pointed to the glass door with a grin on her face.
Yeah, this was definitely a torture-the-handler day. Though Natasha was right about my crush, of course, and I wasn't even sure it was just a crush anymore; it had lasted for far too long to be called a crush, I had to keep a professional relationship with all of them.
Truth be told I had had a crush on Bucky since the day we were introduced, but I remembered the exact moment I had fallen in love: it was a chilly spring evening about a year ago. The team had decided to go out to eat, Wanda had discovered a new restaurant downtown, and the food supposedly was to die for. I couldn’t remember what I ate, or if I even liked it, but I remembered the knitted cardigan Bucky wore, the one with the colourful pattern on it. It looked really soft, and I found myself longing to touch it. That wasn’t the moment, though. The exact moment that made me go “Oh shit!” was when I cracked some stupid dad joke, and Bucky unleashed his full laughter on me. Who knew that "Singing in the shower is fun until you get soap in your mouth. Then it's a soap opera," would be my doom? But the sound had stunned me, made me lose my voice for several minutes. If someone had opened my skull at that moment, the only thing they would have found was an empty space and a dial tone - my brain frantically trying to reconnect with my body. If I concentrated I could still hear the ringing in my ears.
I avoided him for a week afterwards - well, tried and failed; my work meant contact with the entire Avengers team at all times - but the mental distance hurt too much to keep up with it. Since then, I allowed the realisation to wash over me, causing me both joy and suffering. And I thought I hid it well. Not well enough, apparently, since Natasha sniffed it out. I resisted the urge to close my eyes and sigh again. However, I couldn’t stop my intestines from curling into a tight ball. She had brought Tony into this after all.
Tony’s eyes shone. It had been a long time since any drama unfurled in the compound. He was practically starved, and this… This was delicious.
Looking between them, I knew this wouldn't end well. "You know what? I'm gonna go set up the briefing. Room 705. Thirty minutes. Don't be late." Fishing the phone out of my pocket, I sent a group text to everyone with time and location. In afterthought the wording in the text might have been a tad too harsh, threatening bodily harm if they were late, but the start of the day warranted some sort of reaction leaking from my brain. I locked eyes with Natasha. "Not. A. Word!"
She nodded, but the grin never left her face.
Tony watched me frantically push the elevator button, and I caught him whispering, not knowing I could still hear him. Or maybe he didn't care. "So what's your plan?"
"What do you mean?"
"Don't you have a plan? You're the resident match-maker here, aren't you?"
Nastasha let out a small laugh. "Do you know why she refuses to do anything about it?"
Tony nodded. “Because she’s professional and a bit afraid for what the people at the top are going to say?”
“No. Well, probably that too, but she thinks Bucky is way out of her league. Something about him being a superhero.” She snorted.
“What?” Tony let out a barking laugh. “Why? Bucky’s like the most timid ex-assassin you can find. I mean, he’s basically a cup of soft serve covered in salt and liquorice."
“I know. We gotta get them together. So, uh, are you in?”
“Uh, yeah! What’s your plan?”
The room finally sealed itself around me and I heard nothing else than the back of my head banging against the mirror wall and F.R.I.D.A.Y. cheerfully announcing what floor I was going to.
Half an hour later I had to step out for a bit to fetch a new cable to the projector, and when I got back, almost everyone were seated. My chest hollowed when I spotted Tony and Natasha sitting together, looking very conspiring indeed.
The urge to either run from the room or break them up rose in my throat, but instead I pulled up a chair next to Sam and focused on my breathing. He was one of the most calming people on the team, and I shamelessly used him as a shield.
Other than the small scare in the beginning, the morning briefing went without hitch. Agent Hill presented the upcoming missions, and I marked my calendar accordingly. Apparently SHIELD had detected a new terrorist group forming in northern Europe, and needed eyes.
Natasha was a given, she could go undetected for longer periods of time, and could take care of herself if necessary. Of course, Clint would come with her. They were an amazing team together, and he would probably go anyway, even if he was assigned to another task. It was better just to let him.
Steve and Sam would step in if it came to that, but would have to keep under the radar until they were needed. Bucky would travel to Europe with the others, but I knew he would set off alone the minute they touched ground in Stockholm. He worked best alone, or so he claimed, and anyway it would be an advantage to spread out. Still, I made a note on my pad to make sure he had everything he needed, and then some. Who knew where his road might lead him.
Bruce and Tony would work together to develop a better algorithm for the surveillance. So far, the terrorist group had evaded SHIELD's best efforts to pin them down. I was actually surprised to learn they didn't even know their name, which made me suspect something big was coming.
The rest of the team was assigned to other, smaller missions, scattered across the States. That way they could easily be reassigned if the situation escalated in Europe.
During the meeting, I kept an extra eye on Natasha and Tony. They sat next to each other, and though I thought I saw them passing notes a couple of times, I didn't want to bring any attention to it. The rest of the group looked oblivious. A sigh of relief escaped me, and Natasha looked up. She nodded imperceptibly towards Bucky, who sat with a bored look on his face and a discarded towel by his feet.
I narrowed my eyes and shook my head, trying my best to stop my ears from buzzing. Suddenly aware of every molecule in the air and trying desperately to ignore the intense weight, I focused all my attention back on Agent Hill’s presentation. Still, Bucky’s presence lingered in the back of my head, and together with the imminent threat from Natasha and Tony, I felt like I was sitting on explosives.
When Maria finally closed her laptop and turned to Director Fury, everybody got up, chatting as if the meeting had been a regular parent-teacher meeting and not a brief on a possible terrorist organisation on the rise.
“Can you believe that people will do things like this?” an agent asked as we all filed out of the room.
“Well, faith is a strong persuader,” I replied with a shrug. “Some are willing to go far for what they believe in.”
“Yeah, but they’re wrong,” the agent continued.
“They’d probably say the same about us,” Sam said, and I nodded.
“There are always two sides to the coin. If not more.”
“But -“
“And then it’s up to us to figure out what to do. We have to look at the big picture. Not everyone is capable of that.” Sam tilted his head with a look of disappointment in his eyes.
The agent huffed and hurried off with a look on his face that either said that he was constipated, or that being schooled by a member of the Avengers was too much for a Wednesday morning.
“Not sure he saw the big picture, Sam.” I shook my head and smiled.
“Don’t think he could. Better hope he doesn’t get promoted soon.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. He’ll be on desk duty for years still. And I guess you have a little desk duty yourself right now?”
“Well, actually… I was hoping you could do me a favour.”
Uh-oh. That sounded ominous. “Of course. What can I do, what do you need?” My voice rose to mimic the retail job I had before I got lucky enough to join SHIELD's training and ultimately land my dream job.
Sam grimaced. "I gotta go to Louisiana. Just a short trip, couple of days maybe."
"Shit, don't think Director Fury would be too happy about that right now, not to mention the rest of upstairs. You're supposed to be on silent duty until you leave for Sweden."
"Yeah, I know that, it's just… Cass and AJ has been asking me to come visit. And Sarah's getting sick of their nagging. Also, I sorta promised on the phone yesterday. Didn't know there would be a world crisis today."
Smiling softly, I hid the urge to smack my face into the wall. This was going to take a lot of explaining and string-pulling. He was supposed to go no-contact for the duration of the mission, but I hated disappointing the boys. And Sarah was a good woman. She didn't deserve being let down, even though it technically wasn't Sam's fault this time.
"Sam, you're such a softie," I said after some consideration. "Go. I'll figure something out. Just be back before the weekend, okay? And –"
"Yeah yeah, and I'll come in at once if the situation escalates before we're scheduled to head out."
I gave him a crooked smile to disguise the trouble he had just handed me. "Sure. But I was gonna say bring back some of that pecan pie. I've been dreaming about that since last summer."
Sam let out a loud laugh and kissed the top of my head, melting my nervous soul to a gooey puddle. "You're the best. Thanks."
"Fly safe."
"I always do."
"Really now?"
"Oh so that's how it is, huh?"
"That's how it is. Say 'hi' to Sarah for me."
With a short wave, he took off down the corridor, leaving me quietly screaming and already doing the mental gymnastics to find a solution.
***
Departure time was in two days. Everyone was on edge, trying their best to prepare for any eventualities, both inconceivable and expected. After a short meeting with the departure crew to share the last pieces of intel, I felt empty and tired. Missions always affected me more than they should. These people were my friends; if anything were to happen to them, my world would collapse.
Apparently I wasn't the only one feeling a bit drained. No one was in a hurry to leave, and the conversation was hushed and weary.
"You know what we need?" Tony said loudly, slicing through the silence and winking to Natasha. He thought I wouldn't notice, but I did, and the suspicion grew in my chest. What now?
"Pizza!" they said in unison. "We should gather everyone, before we all go."
Tony nudged my arm. "My treat. What do you say?"
Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head. "…sure."
"Oh, don't be like that. We all need good pizza. Especially today, what with all this rain. Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y., you know that pizza bakery up the street, the one with the chicken one. Order pizza for everyone. Remember the one with pear, brie, and white sauce. Have it delivered to the lounge."
That did it for me. If he ordered my favourite, I'd be damn sure to eat my part. "When?"
"Uh…" He looked at his watch. "Noon. I'll send out a ping. Don't worry about it."
"Thanks. I do have a ton of things to do to make sure you guys don't die on this trip." I tried to keep it light, but now that the thought had settled in my mind, I had to fight off the tears. It was a miracle I managed to keep the tremble from my voice.
An hour later I tripped over the doorstep to the lounge, surprised to see it was empty except for Tony and Natasha and a huge stack of pizzas. "Where is everybody?" The door clicked behind me, sealing the silence in.
Natasha shrugged. "Late?"
At that moment the door opened again and Bucky sauntered in with a mischievous smile on his face. "Gimme the pizza and nobody gets hurt."
"Jeez, Buck. Remember your manners. There are ladies present." Tony grinned, but opened the top box and helped himself to a slice.
Bucky snickered and rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Y/N," he said with an over-the-top flourish. "I hope you can forgive my insolence." He gestured towards the pizzas. "Ladies first."
My heart did a somersault, but I managed to keep it cool on the outside. "Insolence forgiven," I replied, swallowing a hiccough that lodged itself in my throat, before taking a plate and sifting through the boxes until I found the right one. Loading my plate, I sat down, sinking into the soft cushions. Only thing missing now was some candles and a drink, and I'd be set for the day.
Natasha gave Tony a pointed look. Two minutes later he picked up his phone and half jogged out the door. That was odd. Tony never jogged.
I looked between Natasha and the door, the pizza forgotten halfway between the plate and my mouth. She looked anywhere but at me, but was saved from a confrontation by her phone ringing. "Gotta take this," she muttered. "Can't prepare enough for the trip." She smiled apologetically and left the room. That was a lie, of course. She had full control; all intel was already read and destroyed. And if something new had come up, I would have been notified too.
Suddenly the plate felt heavy in my hand. Maybe it was naïve, but I had expected Natasha and Tony to respect my wishes; after all I had made it absolutely clear that they should leave it, hadn't I? Their amusement and entertainment wasn't worth being an inconvenience to Bucky.
"What's going on?" Bucky asked when the door clicked behind Natasha.
"I… I don't know," I lied haltingly.
Bucky shrugged. "Oh well. Might as well catch up on some paperwork before the flight too. See you later." With one slice between his teeth and another in his hand, he left the room with a friendly wave.
"Sure. See you." I spoke to his back; the glass door had already closed behind him. The lump in my throat grew. Even though Tony had ordered my favourite pizza, I no longer had any appetite. My mouth was dry, and it was a struggle to swallow. In a fit of frustration, I kicked the table, smacking my toe in the process. The pizza slice slid from the plate and landed on my thigh. "Fuck!"
"Ooh, pizza!"
I spun in my seat. Steve had just arrived, and that made me feel a little bit better at least. He was always a laugh.
"Where is everybody?" He looked around and spotted my moping figure, holding an equally sad slice of pizza. "You okay?"
"I guess," I replied, trying to smile and failing miserably. "Everybody else left. The mission, yeah?"
"Right. I thought everything was planned and okayed."
I couldn't bring myself to fill him in on the situation. If he didn't already know, it was nice to have someone neutral by my side. "Yeah, I don't know."
Their scheme was becoming clear; making Bucky spend time with me alone. But it was a failure. Even he thought it was awkward, and he obviously didn't want to be alone with me. Not that I blamed him. If I was him, I'd do the same.
I glanced at my watch. 12.30. Just then Sam, Bruce, Wanda, and Vision spilled into the room, heading towards the pizza like a herd of hungry goats. Slowly my appetite returned too, and half an hour later the blow to my heart was a painful memory pushed to the back of my mind by excellent pizza and wonderful friends.
Later that day I ran into Tony on the way to the garage. He tried to slip past me, but had to stop when I blocked the door, arms crossed over my chest and puffing myself up as much as I could. "Seriously, Tony! What did you expect to happen, huh? That I'd just throw myself in his arms because we were alone? Because newsflash: I've got both self-control and decency. Do you really think I've never been alone with him before?"
At least he had the decency to look thoroughly chastised, and he mumbled something inaudible I thought maybe sounded like an apology.
No way he was getting away with a tiny one. "What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."
"It was Nat's idea," he said, trying a smirk that didn't work at all.
"I very much doubt that," I replied, dragging a hand over my eyes. "Do I have to call Pepper? I didn't think so," I added when he shook his head. "Do better! Now excuse me. I have a lot of work to do to ensure you actually don't die on this mission." With a final, exaggerated frown, I turned and marched out of the room, ignoring the samba in my chest.
Part 2: Eel infested waters
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cassanovancats · 4 years ago
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felicitate. two.
one < current > three
Jan. 2017
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Two months have passed since Yuta’s first day. You were able to convince Satoru that, because he shared the similar disadvantage of not having an inherent technique, you should control his training. Maki was still his primary partner when it came to afternoon sparring. But he was your partner in the mornings.
Every morning, the two of you would focus on a different part of the body or a different form of exercise. You spotted him in the weight room, you logged his mile times, and, most importantly, you became his friend. Over before-dawn laps and cool-down stretches, you got to know Yuta and Rika.
For the first month, Rika stayed as an intangible ball of energy hovering around Yuta. Then, slowly, she began to manifest a form. Only for a minute at a time initially, but with time, she would appear for the entire session. Rika would hover a few feet above the weight bench or make flower crowns from the wildflowers that grew around your preferred trail. Yuta seemed just as surprised as you when she placed one on your head after a week of her practicing making them. She explained how she wanted to make something just as pretty as you, with all the innocence of a child. You had thanked her with watery eyes.
But with all the peace that came after settling into a new routine with Yuta joining your class, something was bound to ruin it. This time it was a required meeting between the big three clans. The invitation that arrived specifically asked for both you and your brother’s presence. Satoru tried to squirm out of it saying, “They didn’t say which brother had to attend,” but Megumi's unimpressed look and point at the name Gojo sprawled across the top ended that excuse.
Which lead to where you are now, dragging your human classmates through the Ginza streets to collect a custom gown. Maki grumbled all morning, but you were finally able to shut her up with a promise of buying everyone coffee, lunch and take-out dinner. Inumaki was content with any excuse to go into the city (even if it meant he had to carry your bags) and Yuta didn’t have the nerve to reject your offer when you smiled so hopefully. Though, he was curious after the employee of the shop greeted you like an old friend. “Why do you need such a fancy dress?”
“I don’t,” you rolled your eyes. “I have, or had, several custom ones already. I donate almost all my clothes after wearing them to these events. These meetings, when me and Nii-chan are both requested, are used as an excuse to find ways to undermine the political status of Gojo’s. Nii-chan did not force me into years of tutoring on sorcerer history and politics for me to get clowned about wearing the same outfit as last time.”
Maki adds, “The Zen’ins and Kamos are the standard for sleazy shamans. Not every sorcerer is as nice as us.” Yuta nods hesitantly, which makes you snort.
“I know us kicking your ass constantly may not seem ‘nice,’ but trust me when I say I’d rather be getting tossed around by Maki or Panda than attending this dinner.”
“Bonito flakes.” You can tell Inumaki is pouting behind his face mask.
“C’mon, Toge-chan,” you draw out the ‘-chan’ and grab his free hand to swing it back-and-forth. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s a good thing to not be grouped with Maki! She’s such a meanie when it comes to training.” Maki moves too fast for you to dodge her punch. Yuta laughs under his breath at your group’s antics. “Anyways, the most exciting part of this dinner will be seeing what Kamo schmuck they dig up to try to convince Satoru to marry me off.”
“They’re still on that?” Maki laughs and throws her arm over your shoulder. “You would think they’d catch the hint after you stopped wearing furisodes.”
“Salted fish roe,” Inumaki offers.
You sigh, “I would, but you know they wouldn’t treat you well. Escorting me would just mean you get to deal with their passive aggressive comments too.”
“What if I escort you?”
Your group stops walking in the middle of the crowded streets. People continue to push past, but the three of you continue to stare dumbfounded at Yuta. “Is it that bad of an idea?” He flushes bright red and turns his head to stare at the ground.
“No, no,” you reassure as you get the group moving again. “It’s just… well, you remember how we reacted when you came into the class initially, yeah? While they would make fun of Toge-kun, the people at this meeting would try to kill you without hesitation. There’s no guarantee even Rika could stop the full force of everyone in both the Zen’in and Kamo clans.”
Yuta gives a small, “Oh.” He continues to stare at the ground.
“Seriously, I would love to have an escort, especially if it was either of you. There’s only so much of clan politics I can take alone. But I’d never ask you or Toge to go through that for me.” You move from in between Maki and Inumaki to bump against Yuta. “Like, these people are the ultimate bullies. I want you to deal with them only when absolutely necessary.” He finally seems to cheer up some and you take the moment to grab his hand, tugging him forward. “Now c’mon! The bakery Nii-chan got those pastries from last week is only a few blocks away!”
The day of the meeting arrives without much fanfare. Satoru took Megumi out on a mission in the morning to exorcise some low-level curse and you were left at the school to start what would be a long day of preparations. You shuffle into the common area and begin making a cup of coffee. It isn’t until you turn to get creamer from the fridge you realize Yuta, Inumaki and Panda are eating breakfast in the same room. You flush, suddenly aware that you didn’t grab any sweatpants when you left your room and you had slept in a stolen pair of Satoru’s boxers. “Please tell me I’m still asleep,” you mutter, shutting your eyes and whipping back around to finish preparing your coffee.
Panda falls over laughing. Inumaki gives a loud whistle. Yuta is redder than you are and has his face almost flat against his rice. Of course, to add to your humiliation, Hakari and Maki come in from training.
“(y/n), I was never here and I never saw you,” Hakari throws his hand over his eyes and immediately turns to run towards his dorm room.
“You know, I don’t see why you don’t just attend dinner in this outfit,” Panda says.
“Of course you don’t, you literally don’t wear clothes. At least Hakari is smart enough to have some shame and not ogle at her.” Maki moves forward to steal a sip from your cup and gags, “God, how much sugar is in this thing?”
You pout, “The appropriate amount to get me through today. I need to borrow one of your thigh holsters, by the way. Nii-chan doesn’t want me to have to use his technique if something happens.”
“Nori?” The three jerks finally stop laughing, though Panda still seems particularly delighted at your embarrassment.
“Mm, I don’t think so. But some elders got pushy when I was sent to the last meeting and not my brother. Satoru wants me to be able to scare them, not maim them.”
“Salmon,” Inumaki still seems hesitant, but you and Maki move onto a different topic easily as you two walk to her room.
Yuta watches until he’s sure neither of you will hear him ask, “Will she really be okay?”
Inumaki, despite seeming hesitant before, gives a stronger, “Salmon.” He gestures for Yuta to pick up his phone (the boy has gotten better at understanding Inumaki, but wasn’t able to have a conversation yet) and sends a message in a group chat appropriately named Da Bois while Panda grumbles about how unfair it is that he has paws and can’t use a phone.
osamu: (y/n)ie is smiley but she’d kill someone if they tried anything lol
fushiguro: what did the idiot do
fushiguro: who is osamu
osamu: ofc u don’t know hq
fushiguro: what’s that supposed to mean
creepy-kun: when did you change my name >:(
Yuta pouts about the name change for the rest of the day and avoids his phone to keep from Inumaki’s teasing. He almost misses the photo you send in JJH Thots.
It’s you and your brother pressed cheek-to-cheek and making faces at the camera. Satoru has on his circular sunglasses instead of a blindfold, even though it’s clearly night in the photo. His bright, blue eyes peek over their edge, his smile wide, and he has one hand throwing a peace sign and the other on your side. Your mouth is tugged back into a snarl, but Yuta can see how a smile is starting to break through and your eyes are lit up. Both of your hands form claws, like you were a second away from jumping through the phone screen and pinning the viewer.
the good gojo: time to annoy some bastards!!
maki: tell naobito he’s a bitch
fushiguro: ^
osamu: you!! look!!! hot!!!!
the good gojo: the way satoru thought that was for him
the good gojo: it’s delusion luv
Yuta has seen the two of you in almost this exact pose in person. But you weren’t dressed like that, with the slightest hint of the black leather holster you wore peeking out from underneath soft layers of tulle. Even his usual carefree teacher is in Western formal wear, with a tie that matches the floral print on your dress. Yuta knew you had bickered over who got to pick and who had to match. He almost couldn’t imagine the people in the picture wrestling like the two of you had. Together, you two are blindingly beautiful. It wasn’t fair.
Yuta covered his face with his pillow and screamed.
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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years ago
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Getting It In
Based Off Of This Ask
A/N: Something short, sweet, and spicy with a sucky ending for ya! Enjoy🙃
Ever since quarantine began in March, you and Harry were constantly trying to get it in. Before the Styles family was confined to the house, the kids would be in school all day which meant that you and Harry had the entire house to yourselves. Furthermore, when you two weren’t insanely busy throughout the day, you and Harry were able to soak up every ounce of each other in any position and in any part of the house until 2:30 pm. But per usual, some good things must come to an end. Now neither of you were complaining about the family time with the little ones. You two loved your bubs to pieces and it was so great to be at home and spend quality time together as a family. It’s just that 24 hours, 7 days a week, for 7 months was a really long time. During the day when either Harry or yourself (mainly Harry of course) wanted to engage in one of you guys’ coveted sexscapades, there was a process involved. It couldn’t be at the drop of a dime when either of you were feeling frisky, there was a checklist in both of your minds that had to be completed before anything happened.
For starters, you and Harry had to find a way to preoccupy the two 5 year olds that were in your care. Since they were at home and you two were not only parents but now teachers as well, you and Harry were tasked with staying on top of their education and finding activities that could keep the twins preoccupied for a short amount of time. Once that was taken care of, you and Harry had to then sneak off to a part of they house that was secluded yet still in reach just in case there was an emergency. After that, the two of you had to rip off and undo each other’s clothes off in a quick and quiet manner. Luckily, the two of you had taken up sweats and T-shirts as your normal everyday attire, so it was pretty easy to get everything off and get down to business. And even though you two were enjoying every second of being together because those moments were few and far between at times, you and Harry  were doing your best to be alert and ready to spring into action for the kids that were just around the corner.
In the beginning of quarantine, and all the way up until about June, you and Harry were practically glued to the two children. They were in their first year of school and needed the utmost attention at all times. And for the most part, the twins were never alone; there was always at least one of you with them to help out. The only times you two had the opportunity(if you could even call it that) to get some time alone in was during the block of time you guys let them watch tv, when they were playing with their toys or coloring, and when they took their naps. The prime times of early in the morning along with the time after they were put to bed was out of the question considering the fact that you both were exhausted after running around the house taking care of it and the small children that were running around in it. Once you and Harry hit the bed, it was lights out. And they stayed out until your alarms blared so that the two of you could get the kids up and get the day started.
Now from June to August, things were a bit better when it came to yours and Harry’s sex life. Even though the kids were on summer vacation and you two were completely in charge of their daily activities, you were able to give them more time to spend doing fun things that needed less supervision. You two were still actively spending time with them for the majority of the day but you still made sure to have activities in place just in case you and Harry were in the mood. Neither of you were complete fans of plopping them down in front of the television, but when you two were itching for some type of contact you and Harry did what you had to do. There were also little projects for them to do that would occupy their time and allow for you guys to sneak away. You and Harry even went as far as to tire them out early so that by midday they’d be ready for a nap and you two could hop into bed yourselves. And when you both still had a sliver energy left once the little ones were put to bed, you and Harry would wind the rest of the way down in each other. That is, if there weren’t two little bodies crammed between the two of you. Overall, the summer went pretty well for you and Harry in terms of getting it in. Cravings were satisfied and family memories were made.
Fast forward to now and things were still on this steady terrain. The new school year has begun and the twins were now in first grade which meant that you and Harry can step back a little bit and do other things. And other things meant each other. After getting the two children put together and seated in front of their computers that were in a room right off from the living room, you and Harry clean up the kitchen from breakfast before getting yourselves together one at a time just in case the kids needed a little help. Once you were done taking care of/getting a start on some chores around the house along with getting a little head start on lunch and Harry was done with a meeting he had over zoom, the both of you were in need of a little mommy and daddy time. The only thing you two had in the past week that was remotely close to that was a quick makeout session in the kitchen last night while the twins washed their hands before dinner. When the two of you meet in the kitchen, it’s like your minds are instantly synched and you both are on the exact same page. Harry wastes zero time coming over and sweeping you up off your feet and onto the counter behind you. He also wastes no time bringing his mouth to yours in a hurried manner. Your hands immediately gravitate to the sides of his face to pull him down closer to you, and his gravitate down to your hips so that he could tug you closer to the edge, bringing him further between your legs.
“Need you so bad baby.” Harry mumbles against your lips as he begins to bring them down to your neck. 
“But what if they hear us?” You ask him through your soft moans. Despite wanting him more than ever right now, you were terrified at the thought of your children walking in on their parents. The last thing you wanted was to scar them for life. 
“C’mon babe, they have their headphones on they won't hear me pounding into you.” He reassures through his kisses to your neck. “Plus i made sure i got the noise cancelling headphones for them." He continues, wanting to make sure you know that everything’s fine. 
“Alright, but we have to be quick and quiet.” You oblige, giving in and letting Harry take the lead in making you both feel good. 
Keeping you on the counter in front of him, Harry hooks his fingers into the waistband of your sweats to pull them down from your waist. You urgently lift your hips up from the counter so that he could pull them off.  Since the two of you were in a bit of a crunch, Harry doesn’t even bother pulling your shirt off and he goes right into shoving his own pants down his legs. He keeps his underwear and sweats pooled at his ankles just in case. Once you both are both undressed from the waist down, Harry hooks his fore finger into the bottom of your panties and pulls them to the side to expose your pussy. From where he was standing above you, he could see your glistening folds perfectly and he was even more in need of getting inside of you. Before he actually pushes in, he pulls himself back a bit before bending down and licking a wide stripe up your folds to collect some of your juices on his tongue. He then sucks on your clit a little and comes back up to push into you.
“Ready baby?”Harry asks softly to you, bringing his other hand down to tug at his stiff cock a bit. 
“Please Harry!” You huff impatiently, needing him to push into you. Prompted by your urgent response, Harry moves in closer to you, lining his cock up with your damp entrance and beginning to push into your cunt. “Oh my- fuck” You breathe out, feeling his cock stretching your walls to fit his cock inside.
“So fucking tight” Harry grunts lowly, feeling himself being engulfed by your warmth. After about a week of not being inside you, this was absolute heaven. After continuing to push his cock as deep into you as possible, Harry gives you about a second or two to adjust before he’s quickly moving his hips back and forth into you. The way he rocked his hips into you was unmatched. He continuously pushed his cock into you again and again as you tired to keep your moans at bay. You were digging your nails into Harry’s wrist and biting into your lower lip as you took him all the way inside. You weren’t the only one who was fully immersed in the pleasure while trying their hardest not to moan out loud, Harry too was struggling. He could almost guarantee that your walls were lined in the softest and smoothest velvet. Nothing could top the feeling of your walls against his cock. You were squeezing him and whining about how good it felt while he did the same above you. 
As he continued to pound into you, Harry could feel his release bubbling up inside of him. He was beginning to feel tingles all over his body and he could feel a warm tightening sensation in the pit of his stomach. To pull you closer to the edge with him, Harry extends his thumb out to circle it around the sensitive bundle of nerves. When he does this, you feel the sensations traveling through your body and you can feel your release nearing. When you begin to lift your hips a bit up into his thrusts along with clenching around him, Harry begins to go harder. He wanted to pound you both into your releases. And that he did. With only a few hard thrusts, Harry sends you both into the downward spiral of your releases. You both were shaking a little as you held back your moans as you two let go. Your walls were contacting heavily around Harry’s cock as you came and Harry was gushing into you as he let go. After riding the tidal waves of your releases, Harry lets go of your panties and lowers himself down onto your body that was lying on the counter, bringing his mouth down to smear a kiss onto yours. You don’t even hold back, you were a bit loopy from what just happened that you just went for it. Your lips and tongue languidly moved against his as the two of you continued to “cool down” after your releases. But as if it was right on time, you both hear a small voice calling out to your both for some assistance.
“At least we got a good round in.” Harry hums optimistically against your lips, giving you one last peck before lifting himself back up. 
“Yeah, hopefully we can do it again sometime.” You joke, not even bothering to try and lift yourself up. 
“Hopefully.” Harry whispers back with a smile as he slowly pulls his cock from you. “Now I’ll be right back to clean you up, alright?” Harry asks, bending down to pull his underwear and sweats back up.
“Mhm.” You reply simply.  
“I love you.” Harry whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.
“Love you too.” You smile, continuing to lay back against the counter, hoping that you’d regain enough feeling to have yourself back to normal once Harry comes back. 
Even though you and Harry were always horny and looked for ways to sneak away from your kids, neither of you could get enough of being together as a family 24/7.
Masterlist
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swiss-cheeze · 4 years ago
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Cold Shoulder || Spencer Reid || SMUT
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Requested: YES/NO - Reader and Spencer are in a secret relationship. They have kinky sex. Next day Spencer comes in with bruises and a slight limp and the team tease him about it and ask questions. They find out about Spencer and the reader who then punishes Spencer when they get home.
Gender: male, he/him, male/male relapgionship.
Warnings: dom/sub, degradation, male/male, gags, bondage/tied up, rules, mention of subdrop (Spencer doesn't go through it), overthinking, teasing (workplace and sexually), use of ‘sir’, ‘baby boy’, ‘baby’, ‘little boy’, ‘pet’.
———
“S-sir please!” Spencer had begged, though through his gag it sounded more like, “thir plth!”, but you knew what the poor boy was trying to say.
“Are you sorry baby?” you asked quietly into Spencer's ear, the bed dipped as you untied your boyfriends ankles before lifting his butt and thighs slightly to get into a prefered position, scooting closer to line yourself with Spencer's entrance. The poor boy nodded aggressively.
“I'm sorry!” Spencer had said, but again, through the poor gag it more sounded like “um sothy!” drool dribbled down Spencer's chin and if he wasn't in such a submissive headspace he would have probably asked you to wipe it off.
“For what my little boy?” you asked again, Spencer's hips wiggled against your tip but you forced his pelvis down with your hands so he couldn't move. This time you decided to give Spencer a little leeway and took off the gag, discarding it somewhere on the bed as Spencer licked his dry lips and finally swallowed properly, his throat scratchy and dry.
“For forgetting the rules,” Spencer took a breath as you slowly started thrusting your hips against Spencer's hole, your tip barely grazing his entrance, “I-I didn't shave down there recently, i forgot my place before-shit- before you when you entered the apartment, i spoke out of turn-”
“Enough!” Spencer was quick to shut his mouth, “I'm bored,” you said with an evil grin. Spencer immediately knew what you were going to do and tried his best to not tense any part of his body, instead relaxing as much as he could as he looked at you with passion and wanting. You slowly guided yourself to Spencer's hole, pushing in slowly until your tip was enclosed within Spencer, you hummed.
“Mm, even just the tip and you’re so tight baby, you gonna be good for me?” you questioned as your hips rocked back and forth softly, not going in nor out, “gonna be a good little boy for me hmm?” Spencer nodded.
“Yes sir, p-please,” Spencer whimpered softly.
“Are you going to be good next time?” you questioned again, slowly starting to inch you way further into Spencer.
“Promise sir!” Spencer exclaimed harshly as you pistoned your hips forward quickly, sheathing yourself inside Spencer instantly, the pair of your groaning provocatively at the feeling. Spencer was quick to tug at the restraints on his wrists and arms as you pounded into the poor boy, him whimpering sweetly under you.
“Oh you poor baby, you’re not gonna last are you?” you quizzed, your thrusts quickened as you started hitting that one spot in Spencer that made him go wild. His groans got louder soon turning into moans and obnoxious gasps.
“Please, please please please sir,” Spencer begged, your hips pistoned against Spencer, skin slapping skin was the sound that echoed the room as well as the co owned moans, groans, whimpers and whines coming from the pair of you.
“Come for me sweetheart, only you will come for me when I tell you to, got it?” you growled into Spencer's ear, your hand on the underside of Spencer's jaw.
“O-only you sir!” Spencer rasped, his throat raw from the past few hours as both his and your orgasms rocked your bodies, Spencer's legs quaked beneath you from his bent position as his cum spilled onto his stomach and chest, yours spilling into his occupied hole.
------
The next day Spencer waddled into the bullpen; a slight limp, a large scarf bundled around his neck as well as a long sleeved coat. Spencer winced every time his arms or shoulders moved (even simply moving a folder from one side of his desk to the other side), or when Morgan clapped him on the back, or J.J. nudged him at the kitchen bench, bending down to pick up the stupid little pink and blue paperclips that have fallen to the fucking-
“Spencer?” J.J. 's voice was suddenly next to Spencer, causing him to suddenly stand and wince from the fast action, “you’ve...you've been wincing all day, are you okay?” she was concerned.
“Yeah just uh, just a hard gym session is all,” Spencer tried to cover, his eyes flitting around J.J., of course the blonde took notice of this.
“Gym?” she questioned.
“Pretty boy you don't go to the gym,” Derek chastised suddenly joining the conversation with Emily at his side.
“I've never seen you go past the coffee shop up the road from here let alone a gym,” Emily chimed, Spencer groaned inwardly as he started to get crowded.
“Baby, you’re going to the gym?” you suddenly materialized out of thin air with a small evidence box likely packed with the things from your desk; you had finally gotten your own office and only just started moving in.
“Yep!” Spencer was quick to agree.
“You never told me,” you were quick to take out his lie, “how long?”
“Um, a little while?” Spencer seemed to question his own lie.
“A little while?” Derek echoed, then it seemed like everything clicked as Derek's eyes widened, “NO WAY!”
“What! What, what, what!” Emily and J.J asked quickly.
“Doctor Genius here is having a little too much fun with the other genius!” Derek looked at you as Spencer went red. You shrugged.
“What of it?” Spencer didn't expect that to be your answer, then again, they also didn't actually, really know what happened behind closed curtains.
“Damn okay! I didn't know you two where that kink-”
“Derek come on” Emily chastised this time, she nudged the poor man away from the group as J.J. gave the two of you a knowing look and walked away as well. Spencer was still red as he sat back down at his desk, wincing of course, before you lent down and whispered in his ear.
“They don't know how much of a good little slut you are for me do they?,” you paused as you bit the shell of Spencer's ear, “I don't think they ever will,” as you walked away Spencer had decided then and there that he was not going to be your ‘good little slut’ as he concocted a plan.
-
Spencer calculated the exact time to turn around, the exact velocity and the exact angle in order to spill his just made, lukewarm, coffee on you. Knowing you hadn't repacked your newest go-bag, meaning you’d have to ask for one of Spencers shirts for the rest of the day.
“I’m so sorry!” Spencer exclaimed, the coffee was going straight through your shirt and showed off your chest, the poor boy almost forgot his plans entirely when he saw the dagger necklace you wore under your shirt.
“It's!” you huffed as you held the shirt between two fingers and away from your skin, “it's fine Spence really, i just need a new shirt is all,” you huffed again at the realisation you didn't have your go-bag repacked.
“You can use one of mine,” Spencer had said seemingly reading your mind, you nodded, Spencer walked to his desk to get the clothing as you stalked off to the bathrooms in order to get changed.
-
For the next hour Spencer started the second part of his plan; constantly annoying you while you try to work on paper profiles and student FBI work. He continuously brushed your shoulders every time he walked past your desk, always seemed to be breaking his pencils or loosing his pens, he seemed even more clumsier than usual, he ate over your shoulder resulting in sugar crumbs from his donut to fall onto your paper, constantly tried to recommend other words to use on your papers or claiming that what you were writing didn't actually happen (it did happen and you both knew he knew that).
That went on for three hours, by the second hour it really started getting to you to the point you almost snapped at Spencer in the worst way possible. Spencer had just recommended a new word for your paper when you almost broke.
“Spencer Reid, you know your rul-!” you cut yourself off before you could say ‘rules’, your face was flushed red from anger as Spencer tried not to grin and you instead settled for a glare as the team around you gave confused glances.
“I didn't hear you (Y/n) what’d you say?” Spencer asked innocently as he came closer to you due to ‘the room being too loud to hear you from over here (Y/n)’. You almost bent Spencer over your desk in that moment as everyone started going back to their own work and you whispered into Spencer's ear.
“If i had my office by now you would be stuffed under my desk with my cock so far in your mouth you wouldn't be able to talk while i talked to anyone who came in and did my paperwork,” you took a breath as you saw Spencer visibly gulp, “then i would have you kneeling on the ground, naked and gagged with your hands tied behind you and your calves tied to your thighs so you couldnt move so that anyone who walked into the room could see how fucking desperate you are with your stupid fucking little hard on,” Spencer whimpered softly at the image, “either that or I’d have you spread out with that little hole on display for everyone to see with ‘dont fucking touch’ in marker across your thigh with an arrow pointing to what is rightfully mine,” for a final blow you added, “learn to stay in your fucking place,” before walking away to the file room, leaving Spencer with a very prominent hard on.
-
For the rest of the day Spencer and you ignored each other, leaving a thick and heavy tension in the air whenever the two of you passed each other or walked in the same room. Your face was stone cold as you worked whereas Spencer was more anxious.
“Alright what is up with you two?” Emily asked as she walked past your desk.
“What?” you asked with fake concern.
“You and Spencer,” Emily gave you a little hint.
“Oh, nothing, just trying to get my work done is all,” and then you turned back to your work leaving Emily in the cold as she looked to Spencer (whose desk was in front of yours) and shrugged before walking off. Spencer knew exactly why you were ignoring him and it honestly scared him, maybe he had gone too far? Fuck where you going to leave him without anything tonight? He hadn't done anything like this before, he always stuck to the rules and almost never disobeyed them besides last night-
“Bye guys!” J.J. called out as she left. Spencer looked at the clock and sure enough he had been thinking of you for the past hour as his co-workers walked past him Spencer made sure to keep his eyes trained on you.
“Um, (Y/n)-”
“Go home, I have to finish some other files,” was your response. Spencer knew better than to try and talk over you or backtalk you even if he was in the workplace. He nodded stiffly as he started packing away his things and turning off his desktop before walking around to your desk and hesitantly leaving a dainty kiss on your cheek.
“I’m s-”
“I'll text you,”
“I love you,” Spencer seemed defeated when he said this, he had never acted this way and of course you never acted the way you are now, of course it’s different for the both of you but Spencer was starting to think maybe it wasn't such a good idea, maybe you didn't love him anymore, maybe he’s gone too fa-
“Baby,” your voice called Spencer from his thoughts as he realised you've been trying to ground him for the past thirty seconds. Your hands held Spencers as you looked into his eyes seeing every emotion welling within him, “I love you too sweetheart,” your smile was as sweet as your words, reassuring, “if you go into sub drop then you tell me okay?” Spencer nodded softly but you tugged on his hands to refocus the poor boy.
“I promise,” you nodded.
“I'll text you my pet,” your hand came up to caress Spencer's cheek, your boyfriend leaning into the touch, “now go,”. Spencer got the text when he stepped onto the train to head home, reading it made him flush red while trying to use his satchel to cover his bulge.
Sir <3, 7:23PM.
I want you naked and bent over the bench blindfolded.
Fuuuccckkkkk, he was definitely in for it tonight.
-------
The sight that laid before you was immaculate and like no other you had seen before; Spencer Reid, your Spencer Reid, was bent over the black velvet bench right in front of your shared bed, blindfolded, which was probably the best part. With the way Spencer positioned himself he was facing away from you and wouldn't be able to see you unless he took off the blindfold, but of course, being the good boy Spencer was he had (somehow) handcuffed himself to the ends of the bench and was spread like a starfish aside from his legs. This also got him off on humiliation. A whimper escaped the poor boy as your fingers dragged against Spencer's bare cheeks.
“Wow, you really are such a good boy aren't you?” you questioned softly, you could feel Spencer shiver under your fingers as you spread his cheeks slightly and tutted, “weeping for this aren't you darling?”
“I-”
SMACK.
“ONE!” Spencer was quick to exclaim; he knew to count how many you would be giving him without you asking.
“I've trained you well pet haven't i?,” it was rhetorical as your psalm grazed over Spencer's burning cheek, he nodded in response.
“Your good boy,” Spencer whispered.
“No.” you chuckled as you kept dragging your nails over Spencer's back and cheeks, “no you aren't a good boy,”
“What? But i-” Spencer was quick to shut his mouth with a hiss as you scratched his back, leaving harsh red lines in your wake.
“At approximately 10 am this morning you spilt coffee on me, forcing me to wear one of your shirts with the knowledge my go-back wasn't repacked”
SMACK
“For the next three hours you proceeded to be a naughty little boy by constantly chewing over my shoulder,”
SMACK
“Dropping crumbs onto my papers and my lap,”
SMACK
“Brushing my shoulder whenever we walked past one another,”
SMACK
“Constantly gave me new words and phrases for my papers even when you knew my paper was up to better standards than others,”
SMACK
“You constantly dropped pens in front of me and broke pencils just to ask me for another one,”
SMACK
“You have been all over me today, antagonizing me, annoying me…” you trailed off at the end of your sentence as you soothed the red markings on Spencer's cheeks.
“I-i’m sorry” Spencer mumbled, you chose to ignore it.
“So thick and heavy for me already baby boy,” you whispered behind Spencer as you cupped his dick, giving it a few strokes before walking away from him. Spencer whimpered at the loss of touch before picking back up into a whine as you placed something around the base of his cock. It was the purple vibrating cockring you bought Spencer eight months ago.
“FUCK!” Spencer exclaimed as quick thrumming virbarations sent their way through the base of Spencer's dick all the way to the tip of his tongue.
SMACK
“You gonna be a good boy for once and count for me slut?” you rhetorically asked, rubbing a palm over Spencer's reddened cheeks. He nodded.
SMACK
“Fucking answer me,” you gripped the pack of Spencers neck and caused him to bend backwards awkwardly, shoulders and joints popping as they ached from the angle.
“I’ll count sir” Spencer said breathlessly, you forced Spencer's head back down to its original position before you continued the punishment.
SMACK
“One!”
SMACK
“Two!”
SMACK
“TH-THREE!”
SMACK
“Four!”
And more, and more and more.
“TWENTY!”
By this time Spencer was panting as his cheeks were painted a deep red and-
“Did you just fucking cum?” you questioned as Spencer shook on the bench, drool dripping from his chin and onto the bed below him. He whimpered.
“Y-yes sir” Spencer whimpered as his thighs shook, as you looked down at the blankets in front of Spencer there, sure enough, was his load. The poor boy whimpered from the overstimulation as the cockring continued to thrum agaisnt the base of his cock.
“I should've known you'd come from a simple punishment like this,” you shook your head in disbelief, that was when you started unbuckling Spencer's handcuffs.
“S-sir?” Spencer didn't dare move after you finished unbuckling his restraints.
“Clean up your mess brat, use your tongue and mouth to find your fucking mess and clean it up.” you grinned as you watched Spencer struggle from his bent over position (his bones and muscles aching to be massaged and moved but refusing due to you standing behind him) before finally mouthing around on the quilt before finally finding his own taste, quickly lapping up everything he could, sucking the blanket into his mouth and teething at what started to stain into the blanket, while Spencer was preoccupied you quickly undressed as quietly as you could. When you were satisfied with the clean up you led Spencer to lay on his back on the soft mattress before taking off his blindfold and chucking it someplace in the room, Spencers eyes fluttered for a moment to get used to the sudden new burst of light before looking down and bulging upon seeing you naked.
“Have you learnt your lesson baby boy?” you questioned as you stuck a few fingers into your mouth, wetting them, before ghosting them over Spencers hole.
“Y-yes sir! I have sir! I promise sir!” Spencer quickly obeyed, shouting out your title in hopes to gain what he really wanted as his hips thrust up against your fingers.
“Promising something you can't keep huh?” you whispered before sticking two wet fingers into Spencer's hole, letting the boy feel the burn and the stretch, relishing in the slight choke he gave, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he pushed himself into the pillows for some sort of comfort.
“God sir please, please fuck me already. I'll be your good boy, i al-always will be i promise,” Spencer started to beg as you scissored your fingers in and out, “i'll always obey and i won't do what-what i did today, I-I’ll keep up with my schedule a-and shave, and I-i’ll be your good boy i promise,” the end of Spencers sentence was needy, whiny and oh so delicious. You slipped your fingers out of Spencer before lining yourself up, the poor boy looked down to watch.
“You sound so fucking good when you beg baby boy,” was all you said before you pushed into Spencer, the pair of you whined upon the intrusion before your hips became flush against Spencers ass. You grinned as you felt the vibrations of the cockring on your stomach.
“P-please take it o-off sir,” Spencer whimpered softly, “s-so close already” you kissed down Spencers neck, leaving love bites and purple bruises in your wake before finally giving into Spencers ask and taking the ring off, pushing a button and throwing it across the room somewhere amongst the clothing and blindfold. You kissed Spencer lovingly before starting to thrust shallowly, immediately Spencer keened as your thrusts sped up, wanting to reach your end and his own. It only took a few moments before your orgasms overtook you, shaking the pair of you to the core as Spencer spasmed onto yours and his chest as your cum spilled into his occupied hole. You both stayed like that for what felt like hours, breathing heavily into each other's ears before you started kissing down the side of Spencer's neck, the boy hummed in appreciation as your hands glided over Spencer's body, gripping and massaging whatever it touched to spread relaxation.
“You did so good baby,” you whispered into Spencer's neck, the boy whined in response as you continued kissing down his torso before finally unsheathing yourself from Spencer and moving towards the adjoined bathroom. You let a cloth become warm under the water before moving back to Spencer and cleaning up the mess you both made, “so proud of you baby, you took everything so well,” you kissed up from Spencers calves to his thighs, hips, stomach, torso, collarbone, neck and then peppering constant kisses on the apples of Spencers cheeks, across his nose, forehead and chin causing the worn out boy to laugh with the little strength he had left. You put the cloth on the bedside table before turning back to Spencer and cuddling him close to your chest, “you okay sweetness?”.
“Very,” Spencer gasped out, throat raspy from his moans, “I'm sorry for today…” Spencer whispered softly as he tried to cuddle closer into you, a sign of insecurity.
“It's okay baby, was it anything I did?” you questioned quickly, hoping you hadn't hurt Spencer in a way he didn't like.
“No, not you,” he paused, “i think i just wanted this,” Spencer looked up at you as you smiled down at him, “i just didn't like the cold shoulder we gave each other is all…” you nodded as you started bringing the blankets onto your bodies, shielding yourself from the cold night.
“Did you want to promise never to cold shoulder each other again?” you asked, Spencer nodded as he held up his pinky finger, you smiled and linked it with yours before ducking down and giving Spencer a reassuring kiss.
“I love you bubby,”
“I love you too sweetheart,”
364 notes · View notes
rintarous · 5 years ago
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fwb!suna
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hottie alert wee woo wee woo fbi arrest him also if you’ve read the timeskip in the manga and it briefly shows suna can i just fucking tell u like holy shit hes fucking h+t + p.s implied sex <3
you two probably met at a random party thrown by terushima 
and he was kinda popular with the girls so he had girls beside him the entire time you first noticed suna
but little did you know he had eyes on you the moment you walked in
he’s definitely going to thank terushima for throwing this sick party my dude
as the night gets deeper the more you got yourself wasted
like duh? its a college party 
same goes to suna but lucky for him, his alcohol tolerance is spot on
so a few shots of vodka and any more of that shit wouldn’t hurt him
and now you’re kinda wasted and shit just walking around the place, greeting people here and there
when your eyes landed on suna,, again for the 2nd time tonight
homeboy was kinda looking for you too the whole night
cs u were hot shit just like he was
and so you approached him
he’s kinda surprised that you were the first one who made a move on him
so a little chit chat here and there later he finally asks you the question
“wanna get out of here for a bit?” he whispers in your ear a bit seductively
and thats how you found yourself entangled with him under the sheets if ya know what im saying ;))) 
but the entire time you guys were doing the deed, you two cracked jokes here and there
and this weird ass friendship was born
so you two both agreed to be friends with benefits whenever theres a party or u just need a good release 
you didnt mind it cs you know for a fact after this party is over, you’ll never see him again cs you never saw him on campus anyway
so after how many rounds later you two are finished and you two go back downstairs to the party
like nothing happened
except for the fact your lips are swollen and theres a bunch of hickies on suna’s neck 
ngl he really looks,,, hot 
so tbh u were kinda lowkey bummed out that you might never see him again
what you didn’t know was he slipped his number on a piece of paper when he slid his hands on the back of your jeans
but u dont text him
CS UR SCARED BAHAHAHAHA
so fast forward a week later after that party
you were kinda lonely and u wanted to see him again cs duh friendship
you had this project for this one class you have and you and kita ended up being partners
but your project was about some theory about computers and such and you’re just like what the fuck??
luckily for kita, he knows someone who’s taking a computer related course or something related to your said project and guess who it is ladies
thats right it was suna fucking rintarou
“i know someone who can help us” kita says, grabbing his phone and scrolling through his contacts
“cool. what course does he take” you ask as you took a peek 
“electrical engineering” - kita
boi u were shookt when suna comes rolling in the cafeteria where he was going to meet his friend 
“hey kita-san” suna greets and when he turns to you he just had this biggest smile on his face
“holy shit it’s you” suna beams, glad he FINALLY got to see you again
and like right off the bat you were red again like how the fuck did you not notice him before
he was hot AND an intellectual
anyway
the three of you spent majority of your time working on your project at your apartment
cs it was closer to school and kita still has to go home to take care of his granny and shit so he leaves p early but he gets shit done so its okay
so you alr know what happens next
when u’re feeling stressed over this goddamn project of yours,,,
suna graciously gives you a quick fuck to let out your frustrations
and thats like every other day
man you were starting to be head over heels over that bitch at this point
he just knows where to hit it you know??
kinda hard not to fall for someone that attentive 👀
so gradually, those quick sessions of yours turned more affectionate?? if you say so yourself
like it isn’t as rough like it used to be anymore?? like he’s scared of hurting u or some shit
and u couldve sworn he gave you heart eyes when you two made eye contact during sex
which never fucken happens??
oh boi this dude got you wrapped around his finger
but what you didnt know is that its the exact same thing to him, you got HIM wrapped around your finger
so for the first time ever you ask him to stay over
“can you stay?” you mumbled, hiding your face away from him after your session
suna GIGGLES
“thought you’d never ask”
lowkey tho y’all spooned the entire night after cleaning each other up
and after that you two started avoiding each other
you were crushed dude
but you didn’t want to catch feelings cs thats against the unspoken rule you had with him when you two agreed to become friends with benefits
kita notices this and asks you what’s wrong
and you basically asked him his opinion abt your situation rn
and hes just like: “well if you like him that much, why won’t you just admit it to him? cause it seems like he feels the same way” 
and u were like contemplating about it
so on the final day of working on your project,,, you decide to confront suna about your feelings for him
after kita leaves ofc
when he does leave, it turned awkward inside your apartment
like dead silence
as he was packing his shit back to his bag and you were like standing in front of your front door staring at him, hands shaking
“uhh suna?” you squeaked as he basically towered over you, “can i tell you something?” 
suna flashes you his signature smile, “sure! what’s up?” 
your mouth went dry and suddenly you don’t know basic words
you looked like a fish out of water just opening and closing your mouth a bunch of times
you just couldn’t find the right words nor express yourself so you did something you knew you did best,, you kissed him
you cupped his cheeks and kissed him like there was no tomorrow
and now suna was obviously caught off guard 
he dropped his bag and his hands immediately went flying to your hips
he kinda pushed you against the door as you slid your tongue into his mouth, tugging his hair slightly 
you pulled away first, putting your forehead against his, staring at his eyes
“i really like you” you mumbled, cheeks turning pink 
suna has never felt this ecstatic
“fucking finally” he huffs out, kissing your nose. “i thought i was the only one getting attached” he smiles
and after this you two continued your previous actions and obviously ended up getting hot and steamy in bed ;)
the end <3     
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brunos-beloved · 4 years ago
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Heyyy!
Before I request, I would really like to say that I absolutely love your writing so far. Looking forward to more of your work. ♡
I was wondering if I could request a scenario with Abbacchio and his crush on a mission together, and they are close to being spotted by their enemy, so one of them decides to pull the other into a make-out session to avoid being caught, the enemy assuming their just a rowdy couple and leaves the two alone.
I hope this is alright! Wasn’t quite sure what you were comfortable with writing. Apologies if I over-stepped any boundaries!
cover: abbacchio leone x reader
summary: you get yourself spotted and have to come up with a convincing cover.
word count: 1.7k
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—✧—
You totally blew it. 
You utterly, and totally, blew it.
That instinct of yours had sworn he’d round the corner with his partner, but the bastard you were tailing with Abbacchio had turned around to double-check, making direct eye-contact with you no less. He’d just caught the sliver of you peeking from around the wall your body was pressed to. An action that made you flip away as your blood run cold in shock. The tall, lean man crouched beside you caught your face drop, but before painted lips, jet black from the  lighting, could part to question it, they were pulled up into an annoyed snarl by the noise. 
“Over there!” The shorter man shouted, his brawnier partner reappearing from the brick corner, “I told you someone was following us!”
You swore under your breath, practically launching your legs from the ground and into a sprint. Abbacchio followed, aura as deadly as ever, you’d really done it this time, hadn’t you? Shoes pummeled the mud and guns shots rang in the air. You were used to running by now, trying to survive in the streets of Italy, but if your clumsiness hadn’t come with speed you definitely wouldn’t have made it this far. For that you were grateful. You turned on your heels at the closest corner, yanking Abbacchio by the wrist in the pitch black. You’re sure he didn’t appreciate the handling, but he’d thank you later for it. You’d use the twists and turns of the alleyways to help you, taking the switches in direction as cover and hopefully losing the unwanted company. Your brain tried desperately to form some sort of escape plan, the two of you’d gotten most of the information you needed, you just had to mess it all up at the very end. You could feel the annoyance of your partner’s pale amber eyes burn into you, guilt filled the bottom of your stomach. You may have slipped up but you had no plan of getting the either of you shot.
You turned to him for a brief second, meeting his eyes, “I’ll fix this.” You muttered through the muddle of sounds chasing you, unsure if he could really even hear you. The determination in your face made his breath hitch, you were clumsy but always so fast to recover. For that, as a person who lacked the ability, Abbacchio truly envied you. He envied you for having the power to try after defeat so quickly, and though he’d never admit it, he admired you for it greatly.
The shouts of your pursuers bouncing around the alleyway walls made your head spin and heart race, but you could tell it’d be over soon, or at least that’s what your oh-so great instinct had told you. Your frantic swiftness carried you to the end of the shrouded alley, but you were met with the bright lights of the street you’d feared coming this way. A well-lit area was not what you had hoped to hide in. Before you could hardly process your position, the wind from cars whipping by ran across your cheeks as you flew out between the brick walls and into the blaring street. 
Abbacchio followed, letting out what sounded like half a sigh half a groan, silver hair sticking to his face. “What the hell now ragazza matta?” Your head turned looking for an out, on your left was a lively bar, and at your heels your rowdy pursuers struggling in the alley. The stretch of city was too long to run through without being spotted, it forced you to go straight ahead, leaving your backs to your enemies for far too long to be comforting. There was another alley to dip into on the other side of the street, but the traffic tonight was ruthless, and unless you planned to alert the cars of your presence too, sounding horns and brakes, and make it even more obvious, you’d rather not. As your mind frenzied for footing, you focused in on a drunk couple stumbling and squishing themselves into a cab, an idea rising to the surface. You were near a bar...with a man you‘d come with...so a fitting position with Abbacchio that would be waved off and left alone easily would be...would be... Whether your mind was completely in the gutter or that was a strike of absolute genius you truly didn’t know.
“Make out with me.” You stated bluntly, more to yourself hardly thinking. Abbacchio’s face was one of utter confusion, a brow twitching up and his dark lips parting in awe, overtaking the usual irritation that rested underneath most of his expressions.
“Pardon me?” His deep voice was like venom, challenging your statement like one would a sick joke. “Che cazzo are you talking about-” Time was of the essence, and though you weren’t usually this bold, you had to act. You squared your shoulders to the nearest a wall and grabbed handfuls of black fabric, tugging his lithe form to nearly loom over your own. You’d always found his height intimidating, but eventually getting used to his presence made him feel more mysterious and somber, something you didn’t usually find in anyone else you’d encountered, at least not to this degree.
“Trust me.” You beckoned with a face that was anything but joking, holding onto golden eyes firmly with your own. They looked haunting with the shadows cast on his face. Before Abbacchio could look away to the noise growing closer from the alley your palms steadied his head, you swallowed your pride, and you brought his pale face to yours. 
Yes, maybe you had been hoping for this certain event to occur eventually, daydreaming about it for quite some time now, but these circumstances were nearly laughable. You figured beggars couldn’t be choosers though, at least after tonight if it turned out Abbacchio wasn’t nearly as fond of you as you were him, which was your prediction, you had an excuse to finally know what it felt like to kiss the gorgeous man at least once in your life. In this moment you pondered, nearly sure his pessimism had rubbed off on you. No, you weren’t the closest personally, you weren’t one to pry, and you knew what you needed to, but with Abbacchio’s nature you figured it surely wasn’t an easy task. Yet, sometimes you wondered if there was something more between the sarcastic banter or the nights you’d shared a bottle of wine or two, passing out into his shoulder later on in the night, drowsy on the strong fumes of alcohol. Were you just someone to drink with? Or would he enjoy someone else’s company less than your own? You’d thought of these things quite often, but the fact that tonight’s mission might either make these daydreams reach fruition or have you completely rejected put a slight weight over your heart. 
To your surprise, when you brought his lush lips to your own, you weren’t shoved away or scolded. You swiped your thumb across his cheekbone, the silver hair cascading down that brushed your knuckles was soft, the encouragement waking him from his hesitance. The action felt relieving with a twinge of selfishness for him. Violet lips danced on your own as he slowly let himself ease his weight closer to the wall, soon enough your were feverish and pressed together like rowdy teenagers. Not unlike you, he’d thought of treating you this way before, often actually. Despite his self-deprecating tendencies, even Abbacchio realized this was no opportunity to be dismissed, even for someone he despised as much as himself. You pulled apart but not too far, and surprisingly careful hands brushed your hips, amber eyes in a haze. You took it as a queue to latch your legs around his waist, pulling Abbacchio even closer. You brought him back into you with a needy hand on the back of his neck, the other still softly gliding against his cheek. If your heart hadn’t been beating out of your chest before, your plan was about to be proven, hasty footsteps hammering down the street somewhere nearby, yet the squeezing hands beneath your thighs drove your attention elsewhere.
When the pattering feet had finally retreated out of earshot, dashing across the busy street according to the horns you’d heard blaring and swore to avoid, the both of you pulled away, breathless and panting. Abbacchio wasn’t an easy individual to read, yet you swore he seemed torn between continuing and setting you down. Unfortunately, he willed himself to do the latter. After an awkward pause, you broke the silence. 
“We should head back to Bucciarati.” You forced out, trying your best not to sound at all flustered. Abbacchio let out a delayed sound of agreement. 
The walk back to Libeccio was silent so far, you were nearly halfway back and not a word. Maybe it hadn’t been your place after all. You went to apologize, but thanked him for trusting you. Abbacchio’s golden eyes cut into you like daggers, as they usually did when he was irritated, but you couldn’t tell if it was due to what you’d done or what you’d said. 
“Whatever, I don’t give una merda, it was just a distraction.” The frown potent in his face made your tired eyes droop. Had you really screwed up again today? 
“Abbacchio, I’m so-”
“Shut it.” The words that cut you off hurt, but when you looked up their meaning was flipped entirely. Before it was jerked away to the street, you’d caught his expression, flustered with the faintest blush. Even though it wasn’t an exact answer to your worries, it brought a grin onto your face.
“Abbacchio-” You called out, his gaze turning back to you. Before he could interrupt with a snark retort you made a proposition, heart once again hopeful. “let’s talk about it tonight,” you stated bluntly like you had your plan by the bar earlier, spitting the words out before you could stop yourself out of worry. “over a drink?“ Surprise softened his porcelain face for second time today, his tight expression falling. Abbacchio didn’t answer, leaving you with a ‘tch’ and the slight smirk that climbed onto his lips before it was gone as fast as it came. 
But for you, that was answer enough.
—✧—
this took me a lil while, abbacchio’s hard to write for me 0.o but i hope you enjoy this :)
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hoe-biwankenobi · 4 years ago
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Dripping with Gold - Anakin Skywalker (1/2)
Apparently this is going to be the first SW fic I share. This is an interesting turn of event as I didn’t plan on having it done before my approx. 100000 WIPs, but honestly I like it, I truly do. So uh, enjoy!
PS: There WILL be a part 2 as there was a piece of dialogue I really wanted to get out there but couldn’t fit in this one. Stay tuned!
Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Dark side!reader
Word count: 3304
Warnings: kinda emotional manipulation ngl, me liking evil monologues waaaaayyyyy too much.
Summary: “The dark side surrounds you. Your eyes, they’re--” There was a slight tremor in his voice and his breathing visibly accelerated. The anger that had momentarily flared in his eyes was gone now, leaving its place to a helplessness that made your heart ache. “This isn’t right, I’m dreaming, you couldn’t have--You led everyone believe you were gone, you led me to believe you had left me behind--”
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The cold rain hit your face like ice shards as you laid on your back, motionless and in pain. You were surrounded by rocks and darkness, barely touched by the dull light of the day that began to dim already. Your breath was ragged and your limbs were numb to your command, even your voice wouldn’t respond to you. You tried to scream, you begged the force to let you call for help, to give you back control of your arms to at least attempt to flag a passing ship--any passing ship, but nothing came out of either actions. 
You didn’t know how long you had been there, or really what had happened. You had been on a training flight with your Master when your ship was shot down, you didn’t even know by whom. The crash had been rough, and the last thing you remembered before waking up in the crevasse was the ship breaking in half and propelling you in the opposite direction of your Master. It could have been any time measure really, but the dryness in your throat and your cramping stomach led you to believe you had been there for at least a day. You weren’t bleeding an awful lot, but you definitely had broken bones.
Nobody was coming for you. You had felt your Master’s force signature twice in the distance already, and no matter how hard you tried to project to him, he never answered. You were too weak, probably, and if it had really been an entire day, it meant he had abandoned the searches already. That much was the Jedi way, to be ready to let go at any time. You should have accepted it, after all, you lived by that code too, but something about the slow, agonising death alone in the cold that had taken a hold of you left a bitter hatred linger in your heart. 
Hot tears started to stream down your face, stinging your wounds and mixing with the burning ice of the rain. You wanted to scream, not for somebody to hear you, but to let out the choking pressure that gripped your chest with vicious hands. Despite your shivering in the cold, your muscles were burning with anger and fear of the tethering edge you were dangling from. You both wanted to run away from this planet, and to close your eyes with nightfall and never wake up. 
Then, a shadow settled over your still form. You could barely see who it was. 
“Master Ki-Adi?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, almost inaudible over the battering of the rain. 
“You must be mistaken, young one” An unknown voice replied as the figure crouched in front of you. “My name is Darth Tyrannus, but I can assist you all the same”
You willed yourself to snap out of the unpleasant memory with a snarl, hitting the armrest of the chair you were sitting in. The dark tapestry of the old temple you claimed for yourself on Jaguada greeted you back in the real world with a growing headache. If you started to have visions of the past, especially ones tied with the Jedi, it meant they were closing in. Yet, it felt strange to have this one in particular, one that was so intertwined to the dark side before you even turned. 
You knew who was coming for you. 
You couldn’t help but smile at how brilliantly your own fortune had turned. Out of all the Jedi that could have made the trip, it was the exact one you wanted to see more than anything. If you concentrated enough, you could feel his force signature slowly spread around the barren lands of Jaguada as he got closer to your location.
The last time you saw Anakin, you were both 17 years old inseparable padawans. He didn’t have a lot of friends at the temple, mostly due to him being trained outside of the regular padawan learners classes. You weren’t very outgoing either, so more often than not, you ended up hanging out together. It however became more than friendly interactions after a few years, and you found yourselves in love despite the Jedi code. His name alone brought memories of warm embraces and sneaking around between training sessions, something neither the Jedi or the Sith could ever make you let go of. Now, Anakin was the only vestige of your heart that was still rooted in the light side.
But you knew. You knew there was a darkness that clung to Anakin, there had always been. A frustration, a recklessness, an anger, an all encompassing fear of loss; you knew it wouldn’t be as hard as any other Jedi to convince him he didn’t belong on the light side of the force. Most importantly, you knew you could do it. You were almost certain his attachment to you ran deep enough to remain alive even after four years apart. 
You had followed his progress from afar, his slow descent closer to the dark side from his reaction to your death up to this moment in the Clone Wars after countless losses and traumatic baggage. You weren’t the only one either, you knew the Sith were interested in him as well, but you were determined to get him first. You wouldn’t let Darth Tyrannus, or worse, Darth Sidious get their hands on him first. 
You had been Dooku’s apprentice for a time after he had pulled you from that shipwreck. He taught you the ways of the dark side after giving you the push you needed to turn, but soon enough, you began to grow displeased with the Sith. There were always talks of a masterplan for which you were never privy, and you knew Darth Sidious did not like your presence by Dooku’s side. The Sith, whom you were told weren’t as restrictive as the Jedi, turned out to be exactly the same in the end; the never ending rule and the cycles of power designed to keep you kneeling only pushed you away in the exact same fashion as the Jedi. 
Your Master’s betrayal was the final straw. You could still vividly remember the harsh red glow of his blade greeting you in the middle of the night, your instincts jolting you awake and using the force to protect yourself. He had been sent flying so hard and so fast that the north wall of your quarters had collapsed on impact, partially burying him in debris. You knew you were stronger with the force than him at that point, but his experience far outweighed yours, so you grabbed your lightsaber and disappeared into the night before he could get up and resume the fight. 
Your journey to Jaguada hadn’t been easy, but you managed to evade the Sith and take residence on a planet that once belonged to them, to add to the irony. You were left alone in your retreat in the margins of the only city in the never ending desert, none of the occasional smugglers and scavengers brave enough to approach the temple. Your only visitor in two years was, in fact, the Jedi that had just crossed the threshold of the temple. Moments later, Anakin stood on the other side of the large, empty room, and your breath caught in your throat. While there was no doubt it was really him only by his strong and distinct force signature you’d recognize everywhere, it was like he was another person entirely. 
You observed him intensely as he did you, taking in how his features had gone from boyish to absolutely handsome, and how his larger shoulders and intimidating posture projected the image of an accomplished warrior instead of a teenager. His eyes, as beautiful as ever, were locked with your golden ones as a thousand emotions passed through them. Short lived relief, shock, disbelief, hurt, all of which were translated in echo in his force signature.
Then, your name was spoken softly, as if he wanted to make sure it was really you.
“Anakin” You simply replied, giving him a smile. “It’s good to see you again”
He didn’t return it, no, instead, his gorgeous features contorted with incomprehension and pain. “You’re a sith. All this time, you were a Sith”
Your smile dropped and your expression hardened. “I am most certainly not” 
“The dark side surrounds you. Your eyes, they’re--” There was a slight tremor in his voice and his breathing visibly accelerated. The anger that had momentarily flared in his eyes was gone now, leaving its place to a helplessness that made your heart ache. “This isn’t right, I’m dreaming, you couldn’t have--You led everyone believe you were gone, you led me to believe you had left me behind--”
“Anakin” You called his name again, standing up from your chair and taking a step towards him. The way he backed away hurt more than any lightsaber wound. “I never meant to leave you behind. All I’ve wanted for the last four years was getting back to you, but I couldn’t, I wasn’t ready yet for you to see me like this”
“What happened?” He asked under his breath, still guarded against you.
“We crashed the ship, Master Ki-Adi barely looked for me before leaving me to an agonizing death” You couldn’t hide the bitterness of your words. “Then I was found by Count Dooku, who showed me the ways of the dark side”
He took a step further away.
“I’m not one of them anymore, Anakin” You repeated, tempting a step forward. “I couldn’t--I wouldn’t stay with them, the simple mention of them brings a bad taste in my mouth. I left to make my own path, one where I don’t have to bend to pointless rules, where I don’t need to break my back to please, where I am free”
“Then come back with me to the Jedi Temple” He said, his eyes shining with something alike to hope. “If you renounced the Sith, you--you could return home, finish your training, become a Jedi again”
You couldn’t hide your sorrow. “I won’t return”
“The Jedi Council will understand--”
“I know they would” You cut him off gently. “But I don’t want to. I am not willing to give up my freedom for the people that left me to die alone. You are the only good thing left for me there, and I want you by my side, but not there”
“Don’t” He warned, his hand reaching for his lightsaber on his belt. “Don’t play this game with me”
You unclasped yours as well, but before he could ignite his, you handed him the silver hilt. His arm faltered at his side as he stared in confusion at your lightsaber, like he wasn’t sure if it was a trap or not.
“I’m not playing any games, Anakin” You insisted. “I have no desire to fight you. My heart and my life is yours, it has always been”
Before you could blink, the saber was gone from your hand and a blur of blue and red crossed at your throat. You however remained calm, meeting his conflicted gaze through the harsh purple hue from the lightsabers’ juxtaposition.
“Give me one reason not to bring your back to Coruscant as a prisoner now”
“Bring me, don’t bring me, it doesn’t matter” You replied. “Whatever you choose to do with me won’t quiet down the little voice in your head that knows you don’t belong with the Jedi either. I know about what happened to your mother--”
“You don’t know anything!” His voice rose up as the sabers inched closer to you. His teeth were gritted and his jaw locked tightly. “The dark side is lying to you, I won’t let it lie to me too”
“Is it? ” You raised an eyebrow. “They didn’t let you go help her when your instinct told you she was in danger. They frowned upon your actions when it was theirs that led to her death. I know what you did to the sand people who took her, and I think they deserved it”
His grip faltered, but he still held you trapped between the sabers. Pain, so much pain reflected in his eyes in a storm of emotions.
“And do you think what they did to your padawan was fair?” You added, and while you could definitely see a reaction through the shift in his expression, he remained unmoving. “Yes, I know about that too. They were ready to punish her for a crime that wasn’t her doing, they didn’t trust her because they didn’t trust you”
“Please stop”
“You need to open your eyes, Anakin” You spoke softly. “The Jedi are not what they were. They became politicians, they care more about appeasing the public opinion than upholding real peace. They will let civil war rage on, they will let people die because politics say they can’t be involved. They will let slave merchants go on their business because it benefits the Republic, in the end. Do you see how wrong all of this is?”
He retracted the blades of the sabers, letting his hands fall at his side, and you took the invitation to get closer until you were standing right in front of him. He didn’t push away from you or make a move to get away as his head seemed deep in troublesome reflection. 
“I am not bound by these rules” You whispered as your hand gently cupped his cheek, bringing back his eyes to yours. “Neither should you have to be. You are strong, the strongest Jedi to have ever lived, and you are destined to be so much more than a bell boy for the Republic. You could end wars, you could end slavery, and I want that too. Alone I can’t do much, but it will be possible with you by my side. There will be no Masters but ourselves, no code but our own. Nobody ever again will have to suffer as we did once we bring our justice to the Galaxy”
“I… I can’t do this to the Jedi order” He muttered, leaning into your touch. His words lacked the conviction he was trained to uphold, and while you knew you had to carry him to the edge just a little bit longer, you couldn’t help the triumphant feeling washing over you. He was so close to falling, it was almost euphoric. “I can’t do this to Obi-Wan”
You slowly pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes at the more than familiar feeling of having him this close. Memories of stolen moments in the Temple away from prying eyes flooded your mind and soaked into your force signature in the form of a warm, all consuming wave. His arms around you, your hands caressing his neck, bright eyes reflecting the sun rays hitting down on you, hidden confessions and promises of forever. A single warm tear rolled down your thumb on his cheek, and that’s how you knew he was seeing the same images. The love you had for each other was tragically beautiful, but it wouldn’t have to be anymore. 
“Do you still love me, Anakin?” You finally said, your voice barely over a breath in the wind. 
“Yes”
“The Council would never let us be together” You slowly reopened your eyes, but his were still tightly shut. “They would expel us. They’ll never understand what we have, they’ll never understand what we mean to each other. I love you with all my heart, Anakin”
His breath hitched into a sob as you were met with his blue eyes glistening like crystals. 
“Stay with me” You offered once again. “Nobody will be able to take me away from you again. I’m already more powerful than Dooku, and you are more powerful than Sidious himself. There will be no fear, no pain, no hiding”
He just kept staring into your eyes as the remaining of the little resolve he had melted away like ice under a flame. The whirlpool of emotions he was projecting all over the room was intense and vivid as it swirled around you, and that’s when you felt it: a tipping in the force. It was clear and strong, and you knew this was it. He had made his choice.
“I don’t want to feel those things anymore, I want what you said we could have” His voice cracked. “How do I get there? Please tell me how”
“Kiss me”
A breath escaped his lips as he cautiously closed the small distance to press his lips to yours. You took the first slow moments to relax against him, savouring the feeling of wholy having him back to you. Your hand found the back of his neck and his hair that had gotten longer since his padawan days, tangling your fingers through his loose lock. The kiss turned a bit more hasty and aggressive as he began pressing into you, like he too realized you were his without being scared of the consequences. You finally broke away to breathe, meeting his eyes again where you could observe a newfound determination. 
“Let go of all that slows you down, Anakin” You panted as the distant sound of lightsabers hitting the ground reached your ears. “Tell me what you want”
“I want everything” He mumbled as his nose trailed impatiently on your cheek. “I want to stop the people who bring suffering to the galaxy. I want to hunt down slavers and let them know what true fear is, I want to free the galaxy of tyranny. And I want to love you through it all, I want you with me”
“Then it’s yours” You smiled. “It’s all yours. All you have to do is take it. Embrace it”
In a heartbeat, his lips were back on yours with a passion you had never felt in him before. His hands circled your waist and pulled you impossibly closer to him, his fingers pressing hard enough for you to feel it through your robes. You could barely keep up with his pace as he took full control of the kiss, bruising your lips with his furious pace. He was letting go of four years of pain, four years of stress where the world kept taking away from him without giving anything back. Now it was his turn to take.
He backed you up to the throne-like chair you had been sitting on earlier until the back of your knees hit the seat, but you flipped the positions around and gently pushed him back into it and broke away from the kiss. He slowly opened his eyes, a golden-like yellow matching yours greeting you instead of the blue you were used to. You took a moment to admire him as he sat back in his throne like a born king laying his claim on the world. He was even more handsome like this, with that little smirk on his face and power exuding from every fiber of his being. He reached for you and you straddled him, resting your hands flat on the dark tunic covering his chest. His left hand raised to engulf yours over his heart and gave it a little squeeze.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” 
“Indeed it does” He teased, looking up and down your form on his knees. Then, he lifted his right hand and brushed his gloved thumb over your lower lip, eyeing his motion with what resembled fascination. “I feel it. The dark side of the force, I mean. It’s… stronger. Untamed. Pure”
“It’ll make you even more powerful” You smiled as he looked back into your eyes. “You can do anything now, it’s your choice, nobody can stop you”
He slowly grinned back at you.
“Then what are we waiting for?”
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Meeting and Dating Tommy Williams
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(My gif)(Requested by anonymous)
(Sorry for the long wait! But happy holidays! <3)
- You and Tommy first met while you were working as a waitress at a local diner, the diner he just happened to wander into after becoming a free man for the fifth time in his life.
- Mr. Rockstar leisurely sauntered in and took a seat at the counter, taking in the environment with a fondness that only a man who’d been living in a six foot cell for the past few months could muster.
- Enter you, the ultimate sight for sore eyes. You with your charming smile, sweet voice and spoken term of endearment. He liked you immediately.
- If were being honest here, you kinda caught him off guard. You genuinely made the cocky sonovabitch flustered, so much so that when you asked if you could get him anything, all he could do was blurt out a delayed “coffee...thank you”.
- Once your back is turned, he forces his dry mouth to swallow and his heart to stop racing and tries to think of something clever to say. When you face him again, he’s smiling and throwing you a line, relishing in the little chuckle that it earns him.
- Since the place is sorta empty, you have the chance to talk with him for a while. After some back and forth, he asks if you know a good place to get a room. You ask if he’s from out of town and he replies with a somewhat mysterious “something like that”.
- Regardless of your interest and urge to ask him what he means by that, you write down a few hotels and boarding houses and he thanks you with a wink, finishing off his coffee and heading out the door.
- Though that certainly wouldn’t be the last time you saw him, he’d continue to return for weeks, sitting in the same exact spot and eagerly greeting you nearly everyday.
- Every time he shows up, he makes sure to make you laugh, tries to impress you, tells you stories, etc. Thank god he comes in during slow hours because your boss would kill you for spending so much time with him.
- It’s obvious that the two of you like each other but he still decides to wait a little while before asking you out, mainly because he wants to make sure he’s got you hooked in enough.
- That being said, he shoots his shot after about two months of bantering.
“You sure work a lot, don’t you?” Tommy had said to you as you leaned against the counter in front of him.
“Guess you could say that.” You’d laughed in response, wondering where he was going with his statement.
“You know... I think you need a break. Need to go out; have a good time. How would you like to go out dancing with me later tonight?”
- Now, you wouldn’t consider yourself a dancer but when a handsome man that you like very much asks you to go dance with him? Well, how could you refuse?
- He picks you up later that night, most likely in an expensive stolen car; a fact that he strategically kept from you the entire time. If you really don’t know how to dance then don’t worry, he’s very happy to show you.
- The two of you have your first kiss that same night.
- The music was fast and loud, the people around you were focused on dancing, and the two of you were pressed against one another having just finished a certain move. You’d glanced up and made eye contact and in an instant, he’d leant forward and stolen a kiss.
- Good luck trying to get away from him now; the lowlife thief's stolen your heart as well.
- He’s always happy to have his hands on you whenever he can so there’s a lot of Pda in your relationship.
- Passionate, sometimes sorta rough kisses. Although, at other times he can be really soft with you.
- Sitting on his lap. Please ignore the occasional badly timed boner, although chances are you knew exactly what you were doing when you started to squirm on him.
- Making out. He can never get enough of kissing you.
- Jaw kisses.
- He likes when you play with his hair; stand in front of him and hold his face in your hands while you brush your fingers through his hair and he melts like an ice cube in an oven.
- Affection is his kink. He’s sorta touch starved, particularly for innocent affection since he’s probably only really had sexual partners and people who want to fool around rather than just hold him.
- I mean he was in and out of prison since he was thirteen, he obviously doesn’t really have a good family so he sorta likes having someone take care of/worry about him. It’s always nice to feel like there’s someone out there that really gives a shit about you.
- He’s a slut for cuddling though he’d kill you if you told anyone. The two of you usually cuddle with his face buried in your chest or with him as the big spoon.
- The smell of your perfume and shampoo relaxes him. There’s just something so soothing about it; he can’t help but calm down whenever he comes into contact with it.
- Reading to him.
- Teaching him how to read, write, multiply, etc; all the things you learned in school that he never got the chance to. He teaches you about cars and music in return.
- He wants to do right by you and be better for your sake. It may not be a drastic change; at least not at first, but he is trying and you have to appreciate that much.
- He uses a lot of pet names on you: honey, sweetheart, darling; love of his life when he does something wrong. 
- Either staying up and waiting for him when he goes out to do his criminal activities™ or getting woken up by his feeble attempts to remain quiet as he tries to tear his boots off without falling.
- Stolen gifts. Need or want something? Just wait till dark and it can be yours. And don’t think for a second that he doesn’t go to rob a place, see something and immediately pocket it because you would “just love it”. 
- It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together, he’ll still flirt with you like he’s trying to win your heart.
-  He definitely goes out of his way to show off to and impress you. 
- He’s loud, proud, and cocky as hell but you can sure make him go all shy and quiet when you want to. 
- Surprisingly enough, Tommy can be quite the gentleman when he wants to be. He opens doors, pulls out chairs, calls you ma’am; though he mainly does that last one to be an ass or just to tease you. 
- Bowling alley dates and other harmless fun. 
- Bursts of laughter, usually after he whispers something in your ear or makes a stupid joke. He loves when you laugh into him, like the crook of his neck or chest.
- Drive in movies. What's better than a cheap date and a chance for him to slide his hand up your skirt?
- Going dancing.
- Café/Diner dates.
- Going to record stores.
- Getting to hear all of his stories.
- Your parents either hate or have an odd love for him. He’s certainly entertaining, although I’m not too sure that there's a lot of parents out there; especially ones in the 60s, that would be willing to see their daughters go out with a “crook” like him, no matter how good of a first impression he can fake.
- Depending on the sort of person you are, he either “involves” you in his crimes or completely keeps you away from it all.
- If you’re mischievous then the two of you probably steal a car and go for a midnight ride every once in a while, making sure to return it before the sun rises. Either that or you’ll sneak onto private property for a nice moonlit love session.
- Moving around a lot. He has a habit of hopping from city to city so if you don’t want to accidentally lose him, you’ll pack your bags too.
- Visiting him in prison. He’s always sorta timid when he’s sitting before you for the first time.
- Testifying for and/or going to pick him up when he’s being released; not to mention bailing him out. You threaten that you won’t do it again but you know that you will; and you know that he’ll make it up to you all night long. 
- I’m just saying, the first time the two of you slept together was a religious experience for him. He was laying in bed beside you, catching his breath and planning your entire life together. 
- He has your name tattooed in a heart on his arm.
- You cursing; cursing him out to be specific, turns him on to no end. He gets all timid and tongue tied and just stares at you whenever you do, contemplating if it’s a bad time to tell you he loves you.
- Oh, he’s definitely a jealous guy; he has no issue with being rude and telling someone to scream either. His mood immediately drops when he sees another man talking to you, although he mainly has an issue when they’re making you laugh, smile, or blush.
- He knows about the kind of people that are out in the world; he’s one of them, so he’s quite protective over you.
- Occasionally, he’ll get really angry and fed up; usually because he’s embarrassed or frustrated over something, and you just won’t be able to verbally console him. When that happens, all you have to do is hug him and he’ll break down in red hot, angry tears right in your lap.
- He can have a bitch of a temper at times so the two of you will have more than a few fights during your relationship. He’ll raise his voice, maybe insult you or throw a few things but he’ll usually leave before it gets to that point.
- He’s always really shy when apologizing. He’ll sort of hesitantly approach like you’re gonna attack him at any moment, giving you a little smile and saying hi before trying to tell you that he’s sorry.
“I uh, I wanted to say sorry …for before, …you know?”
- He’s a little timid when telling you he loves you, though he acts like he isn’t. With that being said, sometimes he says it so sincerely and out of nowhere that it’s hard not to melt right where you stand.
- He probably won’t outright tell you, but he’s sorta eager to put a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly. He knows you’re the one for him.
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missusk · 4 years ago
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The Rhythm of Your Heartbeat (OC x Piers) Commissioned by @danni-dollarsign Commission info
~~
“What’re you fidgeting so much for?” Marnie asked as she languidly sprawled on the couch, her legs dangling over the arm. “Yer as ornery as Morpeko.”
“Huh?” her brother grunted, again pacing the length of their living room. “Nothin’, nothin’…”
“Yea, ‘mkay,” she said with a roll of her eyes as she returned to brushing the Morpeko sitting on her lap.
Piers grumbled a response that was intelligible to both of them. Truthfully, he had been wearing a rut in their carpet this entire week, pacing back and forth as he racked his brain for conversation topics to have with that woman he had seen around recently. Her name was Nora, she had a Misdreavous, and she had a booth set up sometimes in Spikemuth, sometimes in Hammerlocke, and sometimes he didn’t see her for days. That was all he knew about her. The frustrating part, however, was that he wanted to know more about her than just those three things. Like, if she was single, for one, and for two if she would bother wanting to hang out with a bloke like him.
The Gym Leader was unfortunately getting to the point where he would keep an eye out for her whenever he left town, and even to where he would purposefully trek to Hammerlocke after the sun had set, just to see if that booth was lining any of the streets in his town or the neighboring’s.
“’m goin’ out,” Piers said as he pulled on his jacket. He was met with an ‘aye’ from his sister, and soon stepped into the smoky air of Spikemuth in the night.
Neon lights buzzed as his shoes crunched along the streets, littered with empty bottles and cans and unfortunately no occult booths with beautiful women inside. Piers huffed, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and scolding himself for how he was acting. It wasn’t like him to take evening strolls, nor was it like him to be pining after some stranger… and yet, here he was, his eyes scanning the streets and his feet moving forward despite himself.
This was stupid… if he got to the Pokémon Center with no sight of her, then he’d turn right around and give up on all this rubbish. He offered nods of greetings to the handful of fans he passed at the local bars and tourist spots – as touristy as Spikemuth could be, at least – and soon he saw the only greenery of Spikemuth flowering beside the doors of the Pokémon Center.
Alright, time to go back home and forget all this. Piers motioned to turn, only for his gaze to catch on someone stepping into town. His heart dropped, then thundered in his chest as he stood staring at Nora walking towards him. Long legs, graceful gait, mysterious eyes – Piers was suddenly finding it challenging to swallow, and yet he kept moving forward while both his thoughts and heart skipped.
She set down the bundle she was carrying, unfurling the tent as her Misdreavous flittered around her. Piers nearly jumped when her eyes met his, as apparently he had stepped right up to her without realizing.
“Oh, hello. I’m not open yet,” she said with a light smile. “Give me just a moment to set up and I’ll be right with you.”
It was like Piers’ brain was left in the rut in his living room carpet because all he offered as a response was a blank stare.
“…sir?”
“’chu, um, help?” Piers stammered. Apparently, he left his vocabulary at home too.
“Um,” Nora said quietly. “Pardon?”
“D-D’you, uh, want some help?” Piers corrected, shaking his head into focus. “Hanging ou-, er, hanging up? Hanging that up? Hanging your tent up?”
Nora blinked a few times, as did Piers, as they both processed what the hell he just stuttered out. He wished he wasn’t so pale because he could practically feel his face burning with embarrassment. His mouth was as dry as a Cottonee so he didn’t risk saying anything after that monstrosity of a sentence.
“I usually do it myse-“
“Aye, right, right,” Piers blurted. “Sorry to be a bother, then, I’ll leave ya be.”
And with that, Piers turned on his heel and was immediately marching back home. His thoughts were whirring and thus he didn’t hear Nora finish her sentence.
“…but I wouldn’t mind some help,” she finished, her eyebrows pulling together as Piers escaped. She glanced to Misdreavous, who simply shrugged in response, and Nora went back to setting up her tent.
Before Piers knew it, he was stepping through his front door, grunting a greeting to Marnie who said ‘that was fast’, and then he flopped onto his mattress with a wumph.
So much for that.
--
Piers wasn’t too pleasant to be around the next few days according to Marnie, as all he would do was rotate between his angsty, moody, and sadboy playlists. When he finally emerged from his room to eat, Marnie cornered him.
“When was the last time ya went outside?” she huffed, hands on her hips. “Don’t you like, have to do your job?”
“’s fine,” Piers said as he brushed past her. “Challenge season ain’t here yet anyway.”
“Yer getting’ paler, Piers,” Marnie said. “Go outside today. Go train with Raihan or somethin’, your Pokémon shouldn’t suffer just ‘cuz you want to sulk.”
“Fine,” he said, deciding that his little sister was more than right about how he shouldn’t ignore his Pokémon. “I’ll text ‘im.”
It didn’t take long for the sun to set and for Piers to be on his way out again, this time passing the Pokémon Center, the Route 9 tunnel, and the gates of Hammerlocke. He forced himself to keep his gaze forward, and not drift along the roadside for sight of that familiar tent. All was going according to plan as he stepped into the city, past the Pokémon Center, and past the train station. It wasn’t until he reached the bottom of the staircase beside the station that he paused.
A whimsical noise was wafting through the air, almost ethereal in how it made the hair on his neck stand on end. Piers’ focus immediately rerouted from his upcoming training with Raihan to whatever that noise was, because he was certain it was coming from up the steps. He took them two at a time, now mesmerized by the ghostly music. He arrived at what looked to be a church – it was certainly a building he had never been in before – and his heart started pounding harder the closer he got, as the music was spilling out of the stained-glass windows. It was haunting, operatic, and one of the most beautiful things Piers had ever heard. He pulled open the doors to the church, craving for the song to be closer, closer, close enough to dwell in his bones. Who did that voice belong to? The building was dark, uninhabited, and when the doors rattled opened, the music stopped.
“Hello?” Piers called after a moment, his voice resounding off the domed ceilings. He waited a moment, then a moment more, before turning again to the doors. He suddenly heard the faint sound of shuffling, then the echo of a door closing. When he glanced up, he caught a brief glimpse of a purple figure wisping away.
No other sounds echoed, no other music played, so when the only noise in the church was his own breathing, Piers turned and left through the heavy double doors. When he was greeted by the night air again, a shuffling to his right caught his attention. It was that same wispy, purple figure, but beside that was the outline of a woman.
“Hey, wait!” Piers called suddenly, rushing up to her. “Was that you singing?”
The woman turned, her dark hair cascading over her shoulder. Yet again Piers’ breath caught, as those were the same mysterious eyes that had been occupying his mind for so long.
“Yes,” Nora said quietly. Piers had never noticed how her voice was almost a melody in itself. “I didn’t realize how much my voice was carrying, I apologize.”
“You’re amazing,” Piers breathed out. When Nora made no response, it was as if Piers’ entire consciousness finally caught up to him and he quickly shifted from an awe-struck gaze into one that was a bit like a Deerling in headlights “I-I mean, you, you uh, you gotta nice set of pipes. Not bad, I mean. Not that you’d be bad, I just, I-I didn’t realize you sang too. I sing, y’know. I’m in a band. Would you wanna duet sometime?”
“…pardon?” Nora asked, gray eyes quizzical.
“O-or ‘sthat weird? Sorry, I’ll jus-“
“Wait!” Nora blurted, reaching out to Piers. Her fingers curled around his wrist for only a second before she yanked her hand back again, but the touch still seemed to linger. “Yes, I would like to. That sounds nice.”
“Foreal?” Piers asked, blinking in surprise. “I-I mean great, that’s great. I’m Piers, by the way.”
“I know,” Nora said, her gaze bashfully flicking downward. The sight drew a bashful smile from Piers as well. “I’m Nora.”
“I know,” Piers repeated, his cheeks again staining pink. “I’ve noticed you in Spikemuth sometimes.”
A sweet anticipation filled the space between them, at least until Piers’ phone started vibrating madly in his pocket. Ah, shit, that’s right… Raihan.
“How about tomorrow? You can come to my place in Spikemuth?” Piers started. “I’d say let’s go now but I’m late for training and he won’t let me hear the end of it if I don’t show.”
“Tomorrow sounds good,” Nora said, offering Piers a soft smile. “Can I get your number in case I get lost?”
Piers nodded quick enough for his ponytail to threaten to come undone, and the two eagerly traded numbers. With a bashful goodbye from them both, Piers made his way to Raihan’s gym with a subtle spring in his step, humming a sweet song to himself.
--
Piers and Nora’s first song session went well, as did their second, third, fourth, and all of the rest until they lost count. Although they were no longer strangers to one another, Piers’ heart still seemed to rattle in his chest whenever Nora was close. She snuggled next to him, tucking her head under his chin in the exact way that made him melt. Marnie was off with some of her new friends, so it was just Piers and Nora left in the house, and even though they had plenty of space, they seemed to want to occupy as little as possible as they curled around each other.
“Piers?” Nora whispered, her breath warming his neck and yet sending shivers down his spine.
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you came into the church that day.”
“Me too.”
Nothing else needed to be said, as their bodies both spoke volumes as they lay under the covers together. She was his song, he was her melody, and the rhythm of their hearts beat in tandem as they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
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adrenaline-roulette · 5 years ago
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Four Eighths
Pairing: Four x Eight (Reader) Word Count: 4K+ Warnings: Lots of course language, Violence, Angst, One is kind of a dick, so is Four though....
*Disclaimer, this chapter is kind of intense, but like not, at the same time if that makes sense? Chapter Four will bring back some humour, and things will change between Four and Eight, so keep an eye out for the next instalment!
Missed Chapter One and Two, you should probably check those out first!
Chapter Three:  You're not the big fish in the pond no more
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Despite the rigorous training regime, you’d experienced these past few weeks, that was either designed to make you get up and leave, or potentially kill you on the spot, you had stayed with the Ghosts. You were taught how to handle different weapons, a makeshift firing range being set up for you to practise at. You would be the first to admit that your aim was not always perfect, but you were getting better, there was no doubt about it. Basic fighting techniques were passed from the other Ghosts down to you, though as Two had warned you, it was one thing to fight a punching bag, and an entirely other to fight an armed person.
*****
Three had woken early as usual, getting himself dressed in his athletic wear and lacing up his trainers tightly. Jogging on the spot, he waited patiently for Two just out the front of her trailer, knowing she would be joining him shortly. Despite it being a well-known fact among the small group, that the two were, as Four had said ‘involved’ with each other, that hadn’t changed his and Two’s sleeping arrangements… Well, at least not permanently. Mostly it was just to keep One happy, so they kept their separate trailers, though there was scarcely a night where one would sleep without the other. Each morning, they would return to their respective homes, and begin the day as if nothing had happened. This morning was no different, Two had been in Three’s trailer up until twenty minutes ago, she had kissed him good morning, then raced to her trailer to get ready. Thee found it idiotic that they had to hide their relationship, though they all knew One’s stance on the subject. He didn’t want anyone getting too close, forming friendships could only lead to heartache and tragedy.
“Only a quick run this morning, Eight will be here early for her combat training.” Two smiles as she leaps from the stairs of her trailer, landing carefully on both feet, before breaking off into a sprint.
Three leaps into action, taking off after the speedy blonde. “How is that any different to usual?” He calls, trailing a small amount behind her as they cover ground.
Two slows her sprint to jog, turning so she was now facing Three, and jogging backwards. She knew the path well, knew where to turn, and when to be mindful of any dips in the terrain. “We will be giving the punching bag a rest for the day. She will instead learn how to fight against someone who can counter and attack her back.”
Nodding his head once he had caught up to Three, he mulls over her words. “Do you think that you’re the best fit to challenge her? You want it to be difficult, don’t you?”
Two pauses, a hard glare forming over her eyes and brow. “Of course I want the challenge to be difficult! Which is why I am the perfect sparring partner for Eight, I have years of hand to hand combat under my belt.”
“I’m not questioning your skills, but you two are well matched in height, that’s not always the case though is it. When was the last time you got into a punch up with someone your height or shorter?”
“Well then, who did you have in mind if not me?”
Three waves his hand down his chest, a broad grin spreading over his mouth. “Me of course! I’m taller, and bigger than Eight, it’ll be good to see how she goes against someone double her size!”
Two rolls her eyes, turning on the spot, and picking up her pace once more, before turning to call over her shoulder. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into!”  
*****
Which is why it came as no surprise to find Three waiting for you the morning of your next training session, Two stood to the side of the training grounds that had been set up. A circle had been drawn in the dirt, with a line trailing straight down the centre. You stretch your arms behind you, feeling your shoulder blades pop, before the tension you had held there alleviates. Three was stretching in a similar manner to you, sweat beading on his brow for his morning jog with Two. “Good morning Eight. I hate to throw you into the deep end this early, but we need to get you up to speed with combat. Three has offered to be your sparring partner.”  Two offers a gentle head nod, the closest she had gotten to smiling at you since the day you arrived.
A flicker of mirth flashes through Three’s eyes, as he lifts his head to look at Two, their eyes locking for a moment in silent communication.  As you stretch, you take the chance to look around, despite how early in the morning it was, everyone seemed to be milling around, waiting for the show to start. Seven had set up a green and yellow woven lawn chair out the front of his trailer, a beach umbrella opened above him to shield from the harsh sunrays, as a steaming cup of coffee rests by his feet. Five seemed to have dragged her own chair over to join him, an old plastic thing, which at one sage had been white. Though after months of being exposed to the elements, it had faded to a pale brownish yellow colour, with pieces flaking off. She too had hot cup of coffee and was sipping it patiently, and set by her feet was a small medical kit, a green circle with white plus slapped on the front of the box. It was just there as a precaution, you told yourself, turning away from the kit. Five likely took it wherever she went, just in case…
Directly across from Two was One, he was leaning back against a shipping container which was close enough to see the fight, but not close enough to be hit in the crossfire. His arms were folded over his plaid shirt, while one foot was kicked over the other, he looked the picture of relaxed. As you fished out your Bluetooth earbuds, you took a moment to notice the one person who hadn’t shown up. Four was no where to be found, not that this surprised you. He seemed to have been avoiding you at all costs, he had outright refused to show you any fighting techniques when One had requested he do so, and you had a hunch as to why. One had made it no secret as to what your skills would be within the team. While Five, Two, Seven and Three had welcomed you with open arms, finding what you could do with just a few mouse clicks to be phenomenal, Four had simply shrugged, mumbling under his breath that, “It didn’t look that hard.” When you had brought up a window on the screen you were working at, typing in a few codes, before the entire base was plunged into darkness, all except your computer.  After that little demonstration, he had stalked off and promptly steered clear of you for the following weeks.
With your earbuds clutched in your fist, you made your way over to Two and Three, both of whom were waiting for you. “First rule, this is mostly directed at Three, though Eight please keep it in mind. There are to be no weapons of any kind used during your sparring. You will both start on opposite sides of the circle, the aim is to get the other onto your side and have them removed from the circle. If that does not happen, then the only other way for the session to be over, will be for one of you to tap out.” Two explains, her eyes focused on you, though occasionally she gazes to Three, ensuring that he too was listening.
You both nod your heads in understanding, before you slip an earbud in, pressing the tiny button to connect them to your phone. “Oi Eight! What are you doing?” One calls across to you raising an eyebrow at your frozen posture.
You stood with one hand halfway to your ear, the second earbud pressed between your fingertips. “I work better with music!” You shout back.
A low chuckle rumbled from Three behind you, though you paid him no mind as he whispered to Two. “Sound like anyone else we know?” He smirked, noting the absence of their fellow avid music listener, who could often be found with his own music blaring in his ears.
“You won’t always have time to put earbuds in Eight, you’ll have to learn to fight without music!” One replies, causing you to frown. Why should you learn to do that? There was absolutely no reason as to why you would be on a mission without your music and earbuds.
“One, you know I work well with music. You saw how quickly I got those cameras down at the museum with my music playing. It’s basically the exact opposite of a distraction to me!”
You watch as One opens his mouth, ready to shout his response, before being cut off by and angry French woman. “Suffisant!” Two bellowed, both you and One turning to look at her sheepishly. “If Eight wishes to use her music while fighting, then that is her choice.” Two doesn’t wait for a response from One, nodding at you to finish setting up. You take your place on one side of the line in the circle, as Three does the same on the opposite side. With one hand raised to your left earbud, the other balled in a fist and raised to just bellow your eyeline , your feet are planted firmly on the ground, legs parted and knees bent, so to absorb as much shock as possible in the event of you being struck. “Commencer!”
Your index finger presses against the button, before your hand flies down to join your other in a defensive block, Your eyes locked on Three’s in a never ending staring contest. The music kicks in, Ain’t it fun by Paramore floating through the earbuds, and filling you with a newfound sense of confidence.
You strike first, a right-handed forward punch aimed at Three’s throat, the punch itself was clean and smooth, and if it had hit its target, would have left Three feeling rather sorry for himself. Your punch never landed however, being blocked by Three’s fast-moving forearm, which knocked your fist off target. He followed through with a right hook, which connected with your shoulder painfully. You twisted your body to follow through with his punch, to absorb as much of the shock as possible.
As you swing around with his punch, you lift both your arms up, locking your fists together, throwing them down hard and fast so your elbow juts into his side. Your aim was off, you had hoped to hit his chest, though with the force your elbows had hit him, they seemed to have caused a decent amount of damage. Using the pause in Three’s movements to your advantage, you bring your locked fists up once again, turning to the opposite side before swinging around once more, this time you elbow connects with his upper torso, slamming into one of his ribs without mercy. Had it not been for your music, then you would have heard the faint crack of the impacted rib, though while you missed the sound, Three sure as hell didn’t.
He stumbles away for a moment, pressing his palm against where you had struck him, his eyes growing dark at the pain that was radiating from the impact point. You had no way of stopping what happened next, it didn’t matter how desperately your braced your knees, fists once again guarding your face, there was no way you could do anything but shriek as Three rugby tackled you, his broad shoulder crashing into your gut with so much force, you thought you would to die. He pushed you backwards, as your feet scrambled to gain purchase on the ground to try and stop your movements. ‘Ain’t it fun, living in the real world?’ Hailey Williams’ voice breezed through your ears, as the wind was knocked from your lungs, the irony of the situation certainly not lost on you.  
As Three pushed you backwards, you fought to decide what your next move would be, you had to hurry though, there was only so much of this searing pain you could endure, before you opted for the cowards way out, and tapped out of the match. Before you had the chance to formulate a plan, Three had shunted into you with his shoulder again, this time using his entire body weight. You had no where to go but down, the white hot pain of where Three had rammed you was beginning to take over your entire body, your vision was fuzzy, and your limbs tingled. You flung your arms out to your sides just as your back slammed to the ground, your palms slapping against dirt to alleviate some of the impact.
*****
One watched with keen eyes as the fight took an interesting turn of events, you had had the upper hand for the most part, though clearly you had struck a nerve with Three, or a rib. As Three barrelled into you, he fought back the desire to call the fight off. It was hardly a fair pairing, Three was massive, and was made of pure muscle! You hardly stood a chance against the man. Just as he was about to call for a time out, a low chuckle came from above him. Pushing away from his lean against the shipping container, he looked to his left, up at the trailer beside him. “Jesus fuck! How long have you been there?”
Four smirked lopsidedly down at One, his blue eyes meeting the surprised ones of their leader.  “Well, I saw when you picked your nose. So sometime before then I guess...”
One planted his hands firmly on his hips, raising both brows up at the blonde Brit. If he weren’t so fucking good at skywalking, then he would’ve happily left him in a foreign country somewhere, for him to find his way out, and hopefully to not return to the team.  “What’s so funny then huh?”
“Eight, she’s getting absolutely smashed out there. I told you we didn’t need a fucking hacker, we need someone who can bloody fight.”
*****
As your vision cleared, you found Three looming over you, not with the intention of helping you up though, no, you were outside the circle that’s for sure, but you were still on your side. He was ready to carry you over the line to claim his victory. You couldn’t let him win, you had to prove yourself to the team, prove that you belonged here just as much as them. With a new found strength, you sweep your legs to the left, smashing into Three’s right calf. He had been stood over your collapsed body, though he hadn’t made it further than your knees, which was perfect for you. Groaning, Three landed heavily on his knee, as you rolled away from him, crawling onto your hands and knees, before making it back to your feet. He was on your side of the circle, and better still, he was outside of the circle. All you had to do was hit him while he was down.
When the Ghosts had asked if you had any previous combat training, you had said no, which was the truth, really. The type of fighting skills they were looking for were those of a boxer, wrestler, or soldier, which you were none of. You had however, spent two years learning karate when you were a young teenager, it had been your mother who insisted you learn some form of self-defence, she wanted you to be able to protect yourself if you were ever in danger. You hadn’t practised in years, so you thought it better to not mention anything, lest you give them hope in your abilities. Now though, you had no other choice. From what you could recall, none of the moves the Ghosts had shown you during your training sessions would be of any use to you now.
You pivot on the spot to face Three, who was slowly raising from the ground, his knee obviously bruised from his heavy landing. With your feet planted firmly, and your hands once again raised to block, you meet his gaze. “Sorry Three.” You smirk. With a practised speed and precision, you lift your right leg from behind you, bending your left knee to keep you balanced. Your leg swings around the side, your knee remaining bent slightly, so you could retract quickly if necessary. This would not be the case however, as once your right leg finishes it’s arch, your lower shin connects with Three’s jaw, sending him crashing to the ground with a grunt.
“Eight est victorieux!” Two shouts, as both she and Five race towards you and Three, ready to congratulate and bandage you both.
*****
“Now that? That you can laugh at!” One grins, a look of wonder etched on his face, where you’d learnt a perfect roundhouse kick like that, he had no clue. But fuck, you executed it perfectly!   “Still think Eight can’t handle herself in a fight then kid?” One grins, turning to the trailer where Four had been stood atop only minutes ago. The roof was empty now though, with no signs of the man having ever been there.
A low whistle comes from above, and One tilts his head back to find Four crouched on the roof of the shipping container he was leaning against. He was crouched down low, one forearm resting against his knee, while his other hand sat between his feet, gripping the edge of the shipping container to prevent him from falling. “Alright, so I didn’t see that coming. Don’t think anyone did…. Where’d she learn a move like that?”
One paid no mind to Four’s words, blinking rapidly up at his teammate. “When the hell did you get there? I didn’t hear you move!” Four tilts his head to look down at One, closing his eyes tightly, unable to bring himself to answer. “And what the fuck is with the way you’re sitting? What are you? A cat?”
With a deadpan expression, Four opens his eyes, locking them with One’s, both men ignoring the five people all gathered just a small ways ahead of them, congratulating Eight on her victory, and helping to patch up Three. “Meow.”
*****
“You little shit! You didn’t tell us you could fight like that!” Two grins, as she and Five help you over to your trailer. A stitch had formed in your stomach, and you still found it difficult to breathe from where Three had rammed you, but a grin remained plastered to your lips. You’d done it, you had beat Three!
You collapse against your bed, groaning deeply as you sink into the mattress, if you had it your way, you would stay there for the rest of your life. “I haven’t practised in forever. I didn’t think I would remember anything.” Your shoulders jerk in a weak shrug, but the ladies get the gist.
“You did amazing today.” Five smiles, handing you an icepack, which you promptly pressed against your stomach.  “Get some rest, when you’re up and ready for the day, come find me, we have a surprise for you”
Peeling your eyes open you squint at Five, trying to asses if her smile was genuine or not. “Is it more fighting? If it is, then I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to make it. I’ll be dead.”
“You’re already are dead.” Two pipes up, from where she had made herself comfortable on the dresser in your trailer.
Five rolls her eyes, shaking her head down at you. “No, it’s nothing like that. There’s a few shops not too far from here, it’s where we buy the essentials. There also happens to be a shop that sells furniture and such.”
Slowly, you close your eyes again, feeling sleep wrap its tendrils around your mind and body. “Oh how nice, a shopping spree….”
Five and Two share a smile as you drift to sleep, both women silently making their way out of your trailer. It was a depressing place to call home, but rules were rules. Until today, you were still considered to be in orientation, though now, you’d graduated. Which meant, you could finally decorate your trailer, and make it feel more like an actual home, and not like you were hiding from the law, as you were.
*****
You have no way of knowing how long you had slept for, though as you opened your eyes and looked out the window, you saw the sun now higher in the sky, so at least you hadn’t slept through the entire day. Flinching as you get up, you grab your cosmetics bag filled with your toiletries from one of the drawers in your trailer. Clothes and shoes are clumsily draped over your arms, as you make you slow shuffling way to the bathrooms. The facilities were as basic as they could get and reminded you of the communal bathrooms at camp sites you had visited with your family while growing up. There was one building for the men, and another for the women of the team, you had Five to thank for that. Apparently when she had first joined there was one unisex bathroom, she had gotten into a screaming match with One over this, and ultimately won. Thus, the now separate bathrooms.
Inside were four toilet stalls, two sinks, and a large tiled area with four shower heads, a plastic curtain pinned to the ceiling to block off the shower from the rest of the bathroom. A large mirror hung above the sinks, and beside it were multiple wooden shelves. Shrugging out of your clothes, you placed them onto one of the shelves, using a separate one for your clean clothes. With soap, and hair products in hand, you step into the shower, the cold water taking far too long to heat up. Though you supposed you should be thankful that there was hot water, there had been plenty of times you had been camping, only to find no hot water in the showers.
*****
After scrubbing yourself clean and redressing, you return to your trailer with the intentions of putting away your old clothes. On your way through the base, you hear two people arguing, the first voice was the all too familiar voice of One, while the other was less familiar but all too recognisable, Four’s deep British accent spitting words of venom at One. “I don’t give a fuck if she can fight! We don’t need a fucking hacker; we need a god damned driver!”
You falter in your steps, turning to look in the direction of the argument, finding the two men facing off from an abandoned plane. One stood in the plane’s exit door, a ladder propped against the side for easy access, while Four stood bellow him, hands balled into fists as he stared up at the older man.
“You do not decide who we do or don’t need on our missions Four.”
“She’s a fucking liability! Sure, she got lucky with Three today, but that won’t always be the case!”
“Eight’s role in the team isn’t combat! She’ll be doing things from a distance!”
Four laughs, a dry bitter sound that causes you to flinch. “Right, I get it. We put our necks on the line, but she gets to sit back in her comfy chair with a computer.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh, isn’t it?”
“Of course it isn’t! She’ll be working from afar most of the time, but that doesn’t mean she’ll be under any less threat than us!”
“How do you figure that?”
“Missions change! What if you’re stuck in alley somewhere, no chance of escape and the closest person to your location is Eight. Wouldn’t you rather she have some combat training to help you? Or would you rather she just leave you there?”
“Well that all sounds great, but who gives a fuck if she can help us if we have no getaway vehicle?!”
“We don’t need one specific person dedicated to being the getaway driver!”
“That’s not what you said when you brought in Six! You told him he was the best Auto Racer you had ever seen, and that without him we wouldn’t stand a chance at escaping your fucking missions!”
“Six was a phenomenal racer, but look where that fucking got him! We don’t need a repeat performance!”
“Don’t you fucking dare talk about Six that way. He’s dead because of you and that clusterfuck of a first mission!”
“I won’t have you question me again Four, if you don’t like how things are around here, then you can fuck off back to England. You all do what I tell you to, and if I say we’ll be sharing the driving on missions, then we’re sharing the fucking driving.”
“You’re putting her on a god damned pedestal, all she can do is log into a bloody computer, and knock Three onto his fat arse. What makes you think she could drive a getaway car if you asked her to?”
You don’t stick around to hear the rest of the argument, anger rising up in your chest as you march off towards your trailer. You would show him, Four could doubt your abilities as much as he wanted, but you would prove him wrong.
From his high vantage point on the plane, One watches you storm off across the base from nearby. Had you heard all of that? Four follows One’s gaze, eyes landing on you as you make your way through the grounds, running a hand through your messy hair. Fuck, if he’d known you’d been there, he would’ve kept his mouth shut…
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Chapter FOUR  Check out my Masterlist!
Also, I’m kinda thinking of making a playlist on Spotify for this Fic. I’ve been listening to a heap of music while writing it, and they all seem to work pretty well with the story! Let me know if y’all would be interested in that at all?
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