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osarina · 4 months ago

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ᡣ𐭩 I WISH I WAS YOUR GIRL

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you don't know why dazai has suddenly become so standoffish with you the last week—there's something that everyone isn't telling you, but you can't even bring yourself to make that your biggest concern. you're just so at your limits with the back and forth with him that you can't concentrate on anything else. mishima is hosting a ball is this evening and you think that this is it: if things are going to happen between the two of you, it'll be tonight or it'll be never. you can't wait forever on someone who's just going to string you along the rest of his life. you won't.

(wordcount: 6.3k; fem!reader, sfw but a bit of tension, angsty)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: hihihihiiiiiii guys ^.^ happy friday. we've gotta angsty fic for tonight. i fear this one does not end happily but TRUST the universe does <33 but angst is necessary to move the plot forward. the price you pay for a happy ending is an angsty path there. specially dedicated to my beloved sophie who hates angst <33 happy birthday luvr

You are severely unhappy.

You finished getting dressed almost an hour ago, but you still haven’t left your room. You’re sitting at your vanity staring at yourself—you’ve changed your jewelry three times already, and you’re about to change it a fourth. It’s not that you’re not satisfied with how you look, it’s more that you’re just frustrated and fidgety.

More than that, you’re upset. Dazai hasn’t spoken to you in a week, and you don’t even know why. It has something to do with the incident that happened a week ago with the child called Kyusaku, but you’re not sure what because you don’t know what was real and what was concocted by the child’s ability after you were affected by it.

As much as Dazai likes to pretend to be aloof and unbothered, he’s easily worked up by small things, and he’s been upset with you before, but never like this. He’ll usually sulk where he knows you’ll see him and wait for you to ask him what’s wrong so he can use the opportunity to guilt you into watching a shitty movie or going out to buy him snacks.

But this? Radio silence. He came up to your apartment once when you weren’t here to do his laundry and was gone before you got back. You don’t even know where he’s been staying, because you went looking for him at the shipping container and he wasn’t there. You don’t know what happened. You guys were good, more than good—you really thought that maybe the two of you were making progress past this awkward more than friends, not lovers stage, but now it’s back to square one. Worse than square one, because at least at square one, he was still talking to you.

A low whistle comes from the entrance to your room and you raise your eyebrows as you look up in the mirror, catching sight of Chuuya leaning against the doorframe, head tilted to the side as he observes you. He’s already dressed up—out of his normal outfit and in a sleek black suit instead, he looks different without his hat, but you don’t even have it in you to make a teasing comment about it. You can’t help the disappointment that clogs your throat at the sight of him: you’d still been holding out hope that Dazai would show up.

“I forgot how nice you cleaned up,” Chuuya murmurs. “It’s been a minute since we attended an event together.”

You turn in your seat to face him, eyes roving over his form once before you say, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your hat. I almost thought you might be balding beneath it.”

Chuuya instantly rolls his eyes as he pushes himself off the door frame to make his way over to you. You give him a simpering smile as you look up at him, but you can tell it doesn’t reach your eyes from the way he frowns at you. He reaches out to straighten the necklace you’re wearing and then holds a gloved hand out to help you up, ever the gentlemen.

Even though it’s unnecessary, you still take it and sigh as you rise to your feet, smoothing out your dress once you’re upright. You look up at him and ask, “I take it you’re the one escorting me tonight.”

“Don’t sound too pleased,” Chuuya replies dryly, holding out his arm for you. You sigh as you hold his bicep loosely, making your way to the elevator. “He still hasn’t talked to you?”

“Not once,” you answer bitterly. “I thought for sure he would get over whatever his problem is to be my escort tonight, but I guess not. I don’t even know what happened, Chuuya. I feel like people just aren’t telling me something.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, your gaze is cutting to the side to observe Chuuya’s reaction. He grimaces instantly and averts his gaze, and you take in a deep breath, realizing you hit it right on the nail. What the hell are they hiding from you? You know now isn’t the time to get into it, but you make a note in the back of your head to do some snooping as to what really happened during the incident last week.

“Interesting,” you say, just to let Chuuya know that he needs to work on his poker face. He catches the implication and sends you a scowl, but you only raise your eyebrows at him with a small smile, waiting for the elevator to come up to your apartment. “He’s not coming tonight at all then?”

“No, he’s coming,” Chuuya corrects absently and the smile on your face freezes.

“Is that so?” you ask tightly. “Who is he attending with then?”

Chuuya gives you a long, knowing look as the elevator gets to your floor, holding it open and waiting for you to step in before joining you. You’re tense as you wait for his answer, and you know he’s getting back for the balding comment with how long he’s taking to give you it.

“No one,” he finally says, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Chuuya barks out a laugh. “Jesus, you’re so embarrassing—get yourself together. Who the fuck would actually be his date? No one wants to get within ten feet of him.”

You give Chuuya a withering look and then reply primly, “I would.”

“The entire Mafia knows that,” Chuuya says dryly, making your face hot. “You make me sick.”

“Likewise,” you scoff and pointedly look away from him. After a few seconds pass, you ask, “Are you sure he’s not bringing anyone?”

Chuuya groans. “What would it even change if he does?” he asks, which does not settle your nerves at all. “You’re just going to work yourself up thinking about it.”

“It changes whether or not I’m going to have Akutagawa Ryuunosuke on standby to eliminate a potential threat to Dazai’s life,” you say with a sweet smile. “Assassins come in many forms, but most frequently in dates at big events. We shouldn’t take that risk with our most valuable executive, naturally.”

Chuuya’s jaw drops as he fully turns to look at you. “Sometimes, I wonder why you like that fucked up bastard so much, and it’s only very rarely that I’m reminded that you’re just as evil as he is.”

“I’m kidding,” you complain, waving him off. Although, now that the thought is in your head, it’s becoming increasingly more appealing. “I think.”

The elevator doors slide back open and Chuuya holds his arm out for you again. You take it, lifting your hand to wave at Hinata, an older man who's been working with the Port Mafia since longer than you’ve been alive. He ran with Hirotsu in the Black Lizards before he was hurt on a mission and put on desk duty—you stole him from Mori when you came back from Kyoto. On paper, he’s just your doorman, but he’s helped you a lot with mission planning the past year and a half; you honestly contribute half of your success to his experience.

“Good luck tonight, hime, Nakahara-san,” Hinata says as the two of you make your way out of the building.

You let out an exaggerated sigh and toss your head to the side to look back at him with a smile. “Hinata-san, you should come and be my date instead of this bum.”

“Why am I always catching strays from you?” Chuuya scowls, but you ignore him as you flutter your eyelashes at Hinata, who only laughs at you.

“I’m far too old for that to work on me, hime,” Hinata replies. “I’ll have the scout reports from Sapporo ready by the time you get back tonight.”

“My hero,” you sing. “Thank you.”

You wave at him one last time before leaving the building with Chuuya. As soon as you’re out of sight, your smile drops and Chuuya gives you a concerned look, stopping before the two of you can get in the car so he can turn to look at you head on.

“Do you think he’ll show up with someone to spite me?” you ask quietly.

You know Dazai—he doesn’t like feeling wounded, so when he does, he lashes out tenfold. He gets cruel and vicious, and because he’s Dazai, he knows exactly what to do to make people hurt more than he does. You don’t know what you did to upset him, but it has you on edge now because it will hurt if he shows up with someone else, knowing that you were waiting for him back at your apartment.

Chuuya says your name quietly, and because it’s not an immediate ‘no’, you know that he knows that Dazai might very well stoop that low to hurt you. You swallow thickly and look away—it’s fine. You’ll act unbothered, you have an appearance to keep up and that’s more important than anything. And anyway, it’ll hurt him even more when he doesn’t get the reaction he wants from you.

“Hey, look,” Chuuya says, forcing your attention back on him. “Dazai’s being a fucking dick, alright? But what else is new? You look beautiful—make him regret that you’re not coming in on his arm, yeah?”

You smile softly and look away before saying, “It’s unnerving when you’re sweet.”

You don’t have to look at Chuuya to know he’s rolling his eyes at you. You hear him open the car door for you and sigh as you look back over to him.

“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s go.”

———

As always, your entrance is something to marvel over. It never fails to be the highlight of the night, and it’s only more of a spectacle when you enter on the arm of Nakahara Chuuya.

Lingering looks in your direction, wary stares in his—you’re grateful that he came to escort you, because if you’d come alone, you would’ve swarmed with suitors as soon as you got down the steps. Chuuya is not quite as much of a deterrent as Dazai would’ve been, if only because Chuuya won’t actually kill someone in the middle of Mishima’s ball and nobody can ever be sure of what Dazai is capable of, but his presence and reputation will keep unwanted annoyances away for most of the night at least.

By the end of the night, they’ll get more desperate for a conversation, and only Dazai and Mori himself are capable of keeping them away from you at that point, unless Chuuya steps up his game, of course, but he has as much of an appearance to keep up as you do. You’re not looking forward to it—your eyes keep darting up to the ticking clock, knowing each passing second draws closer to suffering.

You didn’t even want to come tonight. You weren’t going to come, you’d gone to quite the lengths trying to fake being sick, and you thought you succeeded until Mori messaged you this morning telling you that you could either come to the event or go deal with Shikibu Murasaki’s little stunt in Sapporo that has your biggest weapon supplier backing out on your next shipment. Since he knew very well you didn’t want to deal with that, the only option was to come to the ball—someone must’ve ratted you out to him, but you don’t know who. You almost think it must’ve been Chuuya, because Dazai hasn’t spoken to you in over a week.

You still haven’t seen him, which you suppose is a good thing because if he was going to shove in your face that he came here with someone else, then he would’ve done it by now. You aren’t even sure if he’s here; you’ve tried to keep an eye out for him, positioning yourself in a way that your gaze can always stray to the edges of the room in hopes of catching sight of him, but you haven’t seen him at all in the three hours that you’ve been here.

You’re standing with Chuuya and two of Mishima’s daughters now. Noriko keeps trying to shift closer to you, lashes fluttering and lips curled up into a soft smile. Usually, you would entertain the girl—she’s pretty, and at the very least, makes for entertaining conversation, which is more than you can say for the rest of the Sun and Steel upper echelon, but you’re so occupied with Dazai that she can hardly hold your attention for more than a few seconds.

“I haven’t seen him at all tonight,” you say quietly when Mishima himself comes over to your small group, a stern expression on his face as he beckons his daughters over before giving both you and Chuuya an apologetic look. “Have you?”

“No,” Chuuya says, taking a sip of his champagne as he leans against the wall. “I know he said he was coming though.”

Your expression twists in annoyance as you take in a deep breath. Your glass is empty, and usually, there are people circling to keep them full—your old mentor always used to warn you not to fall for the trap. The hosts of events always like to liquor up the attendees; drunker you are, the looser your lips, and you’re usually quite careful to keep it to one drink and never finish your second.

Tonight, you are on your fifth. Dangerous work, because you’re still going to have to entertain people when they inevitably start coming up to you—which is any minute now, you can feel the lingering stares and you can see how people are creeping closer. But you’re just so bothered by everything with Dazai that every time you finish a glass, you’re seeking out the next to try to numb your nerves.

“You know something,” you accuse quietly, giving Chuuya a cold side-eye. He stiffens, but neither confirms nor denies, which is a confirmation in itself. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“I can’t,” Chuuya says tightly, and you raise your eyebrows because you expected him to say ‘it’s not for me to say’ like he usually does when he feels like you should hear something from someone else. He can’t, does that mean… “I just…”

“You can’t because you’ve been ordered not to,” you realize, face shifting in confusion. “Mori ordered you not to. What happened during the incident last week, Chuuya?”

The expression that crosses Chuuya’s face is haunted, and it makes your mouth dry, because what the hell happened and why is no one telling you the truth? You don’t even get the chance to badger him about it, because Noriko and Michiko are coming back over, both of them looking incredibly displeased by whatever their father said.

“He’s so annoying,” Noriko complains, immediately clinging to your arm and resting her head against your bicep dramatically. “You two are so lucky that you don’t have parents to helicopter you like he does.”

You and Chuuya immediately exchange a look at her words, and even Michiko cringes a little, but you otherwise don’t react beyond just trying to not roll your eyes. These girls are so out of touch with reality that it’s almost concerning, but they, more than anyone else at this event, have loose lips that you like to take advantage of.

“No,” you sigh lightly, “I only have Mori. Somehow, I feel that’s worse.”

Noriko giggles like you’ve said the funniest thing in the world, and you miss Dazai desperately. At least him being here would have Mishima’s daughters acting a little more subdued, would maybe even chase them off. You don’t like how they act around him because you know it used to bother him, but you’re not gonna complain when you could be benefiting from it if he wasn’t being an ass.

She starts to say something else, but before she can, Chuuya’s eyes shoot open as he looks at something behind you. You instantly straighten, turning your head to follow his gaze and your breath catches when it lands on just who you thought would draw that reaction from Chuuya.

Dazai.

He’s finally made his appearance, and you can’t draw your eyes away from him. He never gets dressed up for these events like you and Chuuya do, so he’s still wearing that same black three-piece suit he wears every day, just without the dark trench coat he usually wears over it. He’s leaning against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest and a cold expression on his face as he stares in your direction. He doesn’t meet your gaze, but he does stare at where Noriko is clinging to your arm, lip twitching in irritation; Noriko seems to notice too from the way she lets go of your arm and tries to casually shift away from you, an annoyed look on her face as she does.

You hear her let out a noise of disgust, side-eyeing in Dazai’s direction, and you raise your eyebrows at her pointedly. You know that it was directed toward Dazai’s sudden appearance, but you’re not about to sit here and let that slide, so you turn a cool look onto her in response. Noriko instantly looks down to the ground, an ashamed look crossing her face—not for the disparaging attitude toward Dazai, but for being obvious enough for you to notice it.

You feel a bit more tense now as you force your attention off of Dazai back to Chuuya, who exchanges a short look with you before pointedly glancing over to where one of Mishima’s newer executives, Ibuse Masuji is whispering with one of his colleagues, looking in your direction a bit too frequently for comfort. He’s going to come over and ask you for a dance soon, probably around the same time Michiko starts tugging Chuuya in the direction of the hardwood floor at the center of the room—Noriko won’t ask you now that Dazai is here.

Wonderful, you think to yourself bitterly. You don’t really want to deal with Ibuse tonight, but you suppose you’ll probably get better information from him than Noriko. Noriko likes to ramble about more general gossip—who’s sleeping with who, who’s mad at who, and all of that is useful to an extent when you need to figure out what’s going on with Sun and Steel internal politics, but Ibuse has loose lips about more meaningful matters, and you’ve heard some nerve-wracking rumors about the Red Chamber recently.

The things you do for the Port Mafia.

You straighten your necklace, gaze lifting to Chuuya again as you withhold a sigh. You can see Ibuse starting to make his way across the event hall in your direction, and Chuuya gives you a pitying smile that instantly freezes as his eyes pin to something behind you again. You also freeze, because you know it could only mean one thing.

Dazai is coming over.

You raise your eyebrows at him pointedly, wanting to know whether or not Dazai’s approach is a good or bad one—if he’s coming over to finally address you, or if he’s coming over so he can more blatantly ignore you. Each one is equally possible, and the way Chuuya grimaces and shrugs only makes your anxiety spike more.

But you get your answer as soon as he arrives.

You inhale sharply when you feel Dazai’s fingers brush over your hip as he comes to stand directly behind you. You can feel his chest brushing your back, his presence warm and looming directly behind you. With his sudden arrival, the conversation happening between Noriko and Michiko comes to an abrupt halt, and you can see Ibuse freeze mid-step from where he was drawing closer to you. The two girls avert their gaze to the ground, not acknowledging Dazai, and it irritates you, they’ve never hidden how unnerved Dazai makes them, and though you don’t think it bothers him anymore, you know very well it used to.

Your throat spasms when Dazai’s hand settles more firmly on your hip, and you turn your head slightly to the side to look up at him, breath catching when you find that his gaze is already lidded and focused on you, visible eye far too dark and tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Dance with me,” Dazai murmurs, only for you to hear.

“You want to dance?” you ask, a bit incredulously, trying not to be hyper-focused on how he’s touching you. You don’t know what has gotten into him, but it has your heart racing. “Dazai, what-”

“Dance with me.”

It’s not a request, you realize, taking in a sharp breath as his gaze becomes more intense. You can feel curious eyes on you from around the room; it’s to be expected, it’s you and Dazai. Of everyone here, the two of you always have the most eyes on you at all times, but it’s different now.

Dazai usually keeps to himself during events, he wanders up and down the length of the room, keeping to the edges to observe what’s happening unless he’s looking for information from someone. He really stays true to his moniker, a black wraith haunting the shadows and keeping everyone on edge. You can’t remember the last time he willingly stepped out of them to interact with people, much less engage in things like dancing.

“Okay,” you agree quietly, not even bothering to look back at your previous companions as Dazai’s hand slides from your hip to your lower back, guiding you to the hardwood floor where several other couples are already swaying along to the music being played by the quintet in the corner of the room. “What’s gotten into you?”

Dazai doesn’t answer your question, looking down at you from the corner of his eye for a moment before looking back ahead. He doesn’t have to search for a spot on the dance floor—as soon as people realize that’s where he’s headed, they’re quick to leave a wide berth for the two of you, no one wanting to get too close to the most infamous Port Mafia executive.

Your heart races as he leads you to the center of the hardwood floor. Though you can feel dozens of eyes pinned on the two of you, all you can focus on is him. You can hardly breathe when he turns to face you, one hand resting on your hip while he holds the other out for you to take. You swallow thickly as you place your hand into his. He entwines your fingers with his instead of the traditional palm-to-palm, and he pulls you toward him so that your chests are brushing. You’re so close to him that you catch the faint and familiar scent of smoke and iron and it makes you dizzy.

Distantly, you know that this probably isn’t smart. If people think that you and Dazai are together, it will only be harder for you to get information from them. They’ll be wary around you in fear of him, and you’re not even sure if your ability will be enough to counteract the anxiety he triggers in people. You shouldn’t be risking that just for a dance, but…

But you can never think straight when he’s around, even less when his skin is warm against yours, and the way he’s looking at you… His dark eye is heavy with so many emotions, too many for you to even place a single one—you’ve always been good at reading people, but never him, and now, more than ever, you wish you could. You want to know what he’s thinking. You want to know what he’s feeling. You want to know him, because as much as you claim you do, you know that he masks himself from you. You want to ask him again—what’s gotten into you? Why have you been avoiding me? But you think it’ll scare him off, so instead, you ask:

“When did you learn to dance? Today?”

He’s better than you thought he would be. He effortlessly spins you across the dancefloor. Each step is quick and precise—you’ve had training in this type of dancing, but you still struggle a little to keep up with him. Though, you think it’s less because of your own skill, and more because of who exactly your partner is.

“What makes you think I haven’t known how?” Dazai drawls, voice low and languid, dark eye glittering with amusement. His grip on your hand tightens just a little as he pulls you into a half-spin. He presses when you don’t immediately respond, “Hm?”

“Because you’re you,” you finally answer with a fleeting smile. “So? When did you learn?”

“Tonight,” he tells you. “I’ve been watching them.”

“Hah,” you say—of course he’s this good just through observation. Ever the mirror. “You better not embarrass me.”

“Like this?” he asks with a smile that puts you on edge, and you give him a dirty look when he purposely takes a wrong step, forcing you to overstep in order to not land on his foot. You’re careful to make it look casual—a wider turn rather than a misstep—but with the number of eyes currently on the two of you, you know very well that people probably caught it. His apology comes in the form of an airy, “Whoops,” that you know he doesn’t mean.

His lips curl up into a smug smile, and your breath catches when you feel his hand slide from your hip to your low back so he can pull your body flush to his for the next turn. Your throat spasms as you tilt your head back to look up at him, and again, there’s that unreadable look in his eye as his eyes rove over your face.

“Why?” you finally brave yourself to ask, voice quiet and too breathy for your liking. You don’t specify what the why is, and that’s intentional, this way he can pick what he wants to answer and won’t feel as cornered by the question.

His visible eye narrows for a moment, and then something akin to reluctance spreads across his face, and then resignation. You wonder if he’ll answer, hardly even able to breathe as you wait for him to speak. But after a few tense moments, disappointment hits you hard, because a teasing smile spreads across his lips and you know he’s going to evade the question.

Still, your heart races when Dazai dips you down, lowering his face so that his lips brush your ear as he says, “You looked like you were bracing yourself for a bullet with Ibuse getting ready to come over. Figured I’d rescue you.”

Though the music continues, Dazai doesn’t lift you from the dip. He does pull his face back so that he can look you in the eye. He’s so close to you that you can feel his warm breath fanning across your lips and it leaves you dizzy. The look in his eye now—you almost want to dare to believe you know what it is—it’s too close to the same emotion you feel whenever the two of you are curled up on the couch watching a movie. It’s too similar to longing, yearning, the desperate need for more, the desire to be yours just as badly as you want to be his, but you don’t want to get your hopes up when you know he can crush them in an instant.

His gaze drops down to your lips and then drags back up to your face, and you know he won’t kiss you, not in front of all of the eyes currently pinned on the two of you. Not in front of Mori. It’s nice to imagine though.

“Is that really why?” you breathe out, eyes searching his for an answer.

Something new crosses his face—it’s sharp and it’s angry, something that promises violence, not toward you, but toward the one who provoked it. His gaze cuts to the side briefly in the direction of where Ibuse Masuji is still standing frozen in the middle of the event hall, staring at the two of you, and then he looks back down at you, lips tilted up into a wry smile.

“Partially,” he says, but doesn’t give you the chance to question any further, finally pulling you up from the dip to fall in line with the last steps of the dance.

He turns you so that your back is pressed to his chest, palm cupping the back of your hand, fingers interlaced. His free hand slides around to your abdomen, holding your body flush to his. The music slows as the song comes to an end, but Dazai doesn’t release you. You turn your head to the side and tilt your head back to look up at him, inhaling when you find that he’s already looking at you, dark hair hanging in his lidded eye as he watches you.

“Are you… coming home tonight?” you finally ask, voice soft and hesitant.

“I’ll think about it,” he says, but his eye is glittering playfully, so you know that he’ll be home waiting for you by the time you get done at the event. He always manages to leave early—no one has the nerve to try to stop him. He dips his head a bit lower, lips ghosting your ear as he says, “You should thank me, you won’t have to worry about anyone else bothering you tonight.”

He finally lets go of you, your arms fall limp to your side and your breath is a bit too shaky for comfort. He tosses a wink in your direction before shoving his hands in his pockets and making his way back toward the outskirts of the room.

And he’s right—for the rest of the night, not a single person dared to approach you.

———

Even though you’re fairly certain Dazai will be there waiting for you, you still hold your breath as the elevator doors slide open to your apartment. Your feet are aching, you hardly got a chance to sit once during the night and you’re ready to curl up on the couch and watch a movie.

As you step into your apartment, you can’t help the way your heart drops when you don’t immediately see him, and you especially can’t help the relief that spreads through you when you realize he’s lounging on the couch, out of sight from the angle you entered at. At once, you can breathe again—you’ve missed him the past week, more than you ever could’ve imagined.

“Hi,” you say quietly, coming to stand at the foot of the couch.

Dazai shed his black waistcoat, his shirt is untucked and his tie is loose around his neck, head resting on the far armrest as he looks up at you with a lazy grin that lights your nerves on fire.

“Hi,” he echoes. “I picked a movie.”

“A good one I hope,” you tell him with a small smile. “Let me go get changed.”

You turn on your heel to make your way up the steps to your bedroom, but before you can get to the staircase, Dazai speaks up again, “Can you even reach the clip?”

You hesitate as you glance at him over your shoulder. You technically can, but… “No,” you reply, and then lie, “Chuuya helped me get it on.”

Dazai’s lips flatten, but he does push himself to his feet to follow you up the stairs. You spare a glance behind you, catching the hard expression on his face as he stares at your back. You raise your eyebrows at him and it instantly washes away, replaced with a teasing smile as he raises his right back at you. You squint at him, but shake your head as you reach the top of the stairs, stepping into your room.

When Dazai steps in after you, you swear the temperature in the room rises.

You turn to look at him, and he tilts his head to the side idly, dark eye dancing with amusement as he slowly approaches you. He looks a mess with how his shirt is untucked and his tie is loosely hanging around his neck, hair tousled from laying back on the couch—he looks a mess, and you’ve never wanted him more.

You’re sick of the back and forth with him—it’s been a year and a half of it and you’re tired—you want to be his, you want him to be yours. Every time you think Dazai might finally make the first move, he ends up taking fifty steps backward for whatever reason. You don’t want to push it because you have a feeling it will only make him even more standoffish. Tonight has been more progress than you’ve made in a while—if you and him are going to happen, it’ll be now or it’ll never happen. Your pride won’t allow you to chase and pine for any longer.

He comes to stand directly in front of you and you think he wants you to turn around, but just when you’re about to, he gives you a sharp smile that instantly has you on edge, and then he lowers himself to his knees in front of you. Your lips part in shock, heart beat stuttering in your chest.

“We should get these off first, right?” he hums, reaching down for the clasp of your heel, knowing damn well the effect he’s having on you from the smug expression on his face. Although you can’t help but notice that his eye is darker than usual, pupil blown wide as he undos the clasp and slides your heel off.

“Right,” you agree breathily, lashes fluttering when you feel the pads of his fingers press against your ankle as he places your foot back down on the ground before shifting to do the same for the other one.

This time, his throat bobs nervously and his fingers fumble over the clasp. When he finally gets the clasp off, he looks up at you through his lashes as he slides your heel off, but he doesn’t rise to his feet right away once he sets your foot down. Your fingers twitch at your side to reach out and brush them against his face, but you refrain, if only barely.

After what feels like an eternity, Dazai finally rises to his feet, and he’s standing all too close to you. You can feel the heat of his body, you have to tilt your head up to look at him and when you do, you can feel his breath against your lips.

“Turn,” he murmurs.

You swallow thickly as you do as he asks, and your breath audibly catches when you feel his fingers brush the nape of your neck as he shifts your hair out of the way. You expect him to tease you, but you realize his breathing is almost as unsteady as yours is, you can feel each puff against the back of your neck and it has your hair on end. Your lashes flutter as Dazai slowly unzips your dress, the cool air of your room stark in contrast to the line of fire left behind with each brush of his fingers against your spine.

When he gets the zipper all the way down, he doesn’t move away, hands settling on your hips as he hovers behind you. You think your heart might race right out of your chest, head foggy and unsteady on your feet.

For a few long moments, neither of you speak.

And then, you make a terrible mistake.

“Why have you been avoiding me the past week?” you ask quietly, desperate for some sort of answer as to what happened between the two of you that made him go cold on you like this. His grip on your hips tightens, and you instantly want to eat your words. “Dazai?”

He doesn’t even deign you with a response.

Your heart is lodged in your throat when you feel his hands drop from your hips and his presence leaving from behind you. You’re cold, your body is, your heart is, and now you really are unsteady without his hands to ground you. You whip around to face him, knees wobbly as you call after him again, but you don’t chase after him—not this time. Bitterly, you think you’ve spent the last year and a half chasing after him and all you ever get in return is him running away.

You watch him disappear down the steps, frozen in place because how did one question ruin everything. For the first time in weeks, you thought you were actually making progress with him and just like that, it’s back to square one. You feel like you don’t breathe until you hear the elevator arrive on your floor, signalling that he’s left.

“Shit,” you breathe out shakily, sitting back on your bed and burying your face in your hands. You can feel all of the champagne you drank earlier in the night threatening to come up and your head feels light. You fumble for your phone, clicking on a familiar contact and gasping his name as soon as he answers the call, “Chuuya?”

“Yo,” you hear him ask, concerned. “You good? Aren’t you with-”

“Can you come over?” you push out before he has the chance to say his name. “I just-I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep waiting. I can’t-”

“I’m coming,” Chuuya tells you when your words cut out into a sob. God, you can’t remember the last time you cried like this. Your whole body aches as you pull your knees to your chest and rock yourself back and forth trying to calm yourself down. “I’ll be there in five. I’m coming.”

You told yourself before that it was tonight or never, and you’re done waiting for him. No matter how badly it hurts to force yourself to move on—you’re done.

You have to be, for your own sake.

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you

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chlix · 5 months ago

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superbloom

bf! chan x fem! reader: you almost ruin your own proposal

pairing: chan x reader

genre: fluff!

word count: 1.7k

warnings/tags: public proposals, y/n is a bit of a mess but its ok

a/n: this is a request from @taevhs who requested reader accidentally saying no to her own proposal out of shock and stressing chan tf out (ask is linked HERE). i am SO sorry this took so long to get to 😭😭😭 i hope it was at least semi-worth the wait

The thing is: you should’ve seen it coming.

Chan is a lot of things, but he’s not subtle. Especially when he gets really into something. He’s good at disguising the planning, at worrying in private and then clearing his face when he sees you, but you know him too well. You can sense the vibe even without him saying anything.

And anyway, you’d talked about marriage before. You’d thought about wedding planning and what time of year would be best, who would you invite. You inquired about a marriage license. You planned on getting a better apartment together. You were engaged in everything but name. So really, the proposal was imminent. It was just a matter of waiting for all his plans to come to fruition. So, you played dumb when he started paying special attention to your hands and the rings you wore most often. You didn’t start fights when you noticed him texting your best friend more than usual. You pretended not to see when you saw him researching photographers on his open laptop. You were willing to play into the surprise, and honestly, you didn’t want to pry. You wanted to be enchanted and impressed when the time came. It would make it more exciting.

You must’ve had a lapse in mentality for a second, or perhaps you just had a lot on your mind that day, because when he asked if you wanted to play hooky and go on a day trip with him, you didn’t suspect a thing.

“How spontaneous,” you’d said, delighted.

He’d only smiled. “Gotta keep you on your toes, y’know.”

You didn’t notice how the nervousness pulled at his eyes as you called in sick to work and put on a cute blue dress. He suggests a white sundress, but you decline, feeling like it’s more of a blue kind of day. You don’t notice how he doesn’t comment on the choice the way he normally does.

Your destination was a botanical garden up north, a prospect that excites you. Your Instagram needed something to spruce it up and some photos against the foliage would be perfect to introduce a vernal vibe. He leads you over to a wall of hydrangeas, and helps you rearrange your hat and jewelry so they stand out in the bright afternoon sun.

"Okay so look left, now look up, now hold out your bag." He's always good at directing you for photos, copying the same directions he's been given on his various shoots, and you've become much better at taking direction the longer you've been together.

"Okay now look at the flowers and pretend to pick off a petal. No, reach out a little farther. Okay, hold that." You hear his voice moving as he changes angles, trying to find exactly where the best shot is. Your eyes fixate on the hydrangeas, at the vast greenish blooms that are climbing up the trellises, smelling almost sickly sweet. For a moment you worry that the pale green of them might clash with your dress, but if that was the case then at least you have dozens of other photos in different locations. No great loss. Inside the bush, you can see small insects climbing along the branches. There are a few buds deep int he recesses, too young to push their way out and bloom. All whole world beneath you, sheltering in soft petals. A home for smaller creatures.

You get so distracted by the flowers themselves you don't notice that Chan has stopped speaking.

"Did you get it?" you call out. No response. You turn to where he was standing across the way.

He's gone.

Confusion settles in. Your eyes dart back and forth. "Baby? Where'd you go?" He's nowhere. You turn completely around, towards the other end of the wall of hydrangeas, and that's where you finally find Chan.....down on one knee.

Your vision immediately tunnels. His hair is out of place, as if he's been running his hands through it. He does that when he gets nervous. Your gaze darts down to see an open ring box in one hand, the gem glittering in the bright sun, nearly blinding you just from the intensity of its presence.

"Oh my god." You can't breathe. Your heart stutters in your chest.

"Y/n," he says, looking up at you with so much tenderness and love. "these past few years with you have as beautiful and perfect as a spring day. You're the most wonderful woman I've ever met, and I’ve never been so glad to know anyone. I never want our time together to end. I love you more than life itself.” He takes a breath then says those four words. “Will you marry me?"

Your brain short-circuits. It’s like the sun is dimming above you, your whole body struck still. You think of the hydrangeas washing out your dress, and the sun in your eyes, and all the people around watching you flounder and struggle for something to say. You’re so shocked and excited that it’s overwhelming you- cold sweat breaks out on your brow and you lose control of your mouth entirely so instead of saying a resounding "Yes!" the word that comes out is a very quiet "No..."

Chan freezes. The smile that had been spread across his face falls, his eyes dim.

"No?" he asks, clearly unprepared for this answer. "You don't-"

His own shock snaps you out of yours and your brain kicks back into gear. Horror overwhelms you.

"Oh my god! No, no I just- I was thinking about how I look and how everyone is looking at us right now and I should've worn that white dress you suggested to me and now I've fucked up all the photos and-"

You can't tell if you're making it worse or making it better, so you give up. You grab him by the coat, haul him up, and kiss him.

Suddenly, there's movement around you, and several people burst out from behind the hydrangea bushes that surround you. You open your eyes and see all your friends and family swarming and excited. They were watching the whole thing. They’re all wearing white. Chan invited them so they could share in this happy moment with you. The people around you in the garden clap politely and call congratulations. You look up and notice someone pointing a camera at you a distance away. Chan had the whole thing filmed.

It's a picture-perfect proposal and you'd almost ruined it.

You step back from him, and god he still looks so unsure and you hate yourself for stealing even a little of his joy.

"Yes, Chan. Yes, I'll marry you. A thousand times yes."

Relief sinks into every part of his being, and he leans in to kiss you again. And then your friends and family reach you, and it's all chaos. Your friends are shattering excitedly at you about oh my god Y/N you don't know how hard it was to keep a secret we've been planning this for ages, and the guys in your friend group are clapping Chan on the back, giving more sincere congratulations than you've heard from them in years, but all of it is white noise to you. The only person who exists to you in this moment is Chan. The adrenaline slowly ekes away, and you feel more at peace, more right than you ever have before.

Later that night, you're sitting in your apartment flipping through some zines you'd picked up from the gift shop on the south end of the garden. Chan is in the kitchen putting away leftovers, and the TV is turned on low, white noise for your quiet evening. Your new ring gleams on your finger, and you can barely focus on the botanical facts you're wearing because it keeps catching your eye and distracting you with private glee.

You feel the couch dip as he sits down, and you lean into his side. His hand comes up to wrap around you automatically.

"You scared the shit out of me today," Chan says, and his tone is light but you know he's telling the absolute truth. You wince, setting the zine down and turning to face him properly.

"I was nervous about doing a public proposal," he continues. "I know you said you were okay with it but when I saw you panic I started to worry."

"I'm sorry. I really was just surprised. My mind was in a thousand different places."

You both know you have a tendency to put your foot in your mouth. It's rare you fumble on such a serious occasion, though.

"When you said no, I think my heart dropped into my stomach."

You sigh, cursing your past self for planting any seed of doubt in his mind. "I got overwhelmed. With love for you, I swear, but I started spiraling because I was so caught off guard. I regretted not wearing the white dress you told me to wear. I'd already been thinking that my blue dress clashed with the flowers, and then I realized you were proposing and I thought I'd ruined your whole plan. I felt bad.”

Chan let out a sigh, but it wasn't a tired or exasperated sigh. Instead, it was fond.

"You could've insisted on wearing sweatpants today and it wouldn't have ruined the proposal. You look beautiful in anything. All I wanted was your answer."

"You must've known that there was no way I would've said no."

"But you did."

"Out of shock! Cut me some slack, it's not every day you get proposed to! I've never done it before! I didn't know what to do with myself!"

"I've never proposed to anyone either," Chan says. "I was sweating bullets."

"I just thought it was the heat."

"You're a menace."

"I'm your fiancée," you say, and it's the first time you've said it out loud, and it fills you with so much excitement that a smile splits your face in half all over again. "I'm going to marry you soon."

Chan's smile is a twin of yours. "You are," he says. "And you've never done that either."

"We'll figure it out," you vow. "And I'll learn to watch my mouth."

"Please do. If you don't say "I do" at the altar, I'll collapse out of cardiac arrest."

"Then I guess I better start practicing," you tease. "I, F/N L/N, do take you, Christopher Bang, to be my lawfully wedded husband. I'll repeat it in the mirror every morning."

You're joking of course. You know that when the time comes to say vows, you won't be stuttering or stumbling over the words. They're already echoing in your head over and over again. You think you might start saying them in unrelated conversations, the words bursting out of you like water from a dam. I do, I do, I do.

Chan leans over, finally relaxed, and kisses your cheek. You close your eyes and bask in the attention.

Next time you’ll wear a white dress, and you won’t flinch for a second.

#skz x reader #skz x you #skz fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan fluff #bang chan imagines

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serpentwhisperss · 1 month ago

Text

rainbow sherbet — E.W

.ᐟ genre: girlfriend!ellie, fluff, stupid decisions, loser!ellie

.ᐟ authors note: this is my first post on tumblr! please be patient as im still learning how to work this stuff 😭

.ᐟ warnings: ellie is so smitten for this cat its disgusting.

synopsis:

╰┈➤ you and ellie “accidentally” adopt a cat together. neither of you remember agreeing to this, but here it is. this cat now runs your life.

you should’ve known something was up the second ellie offered to go grocery shopping without grumbling.

she was suspiciously enthusiastic about picking up dried lentils and flour. normally, you’d have to bribe her with promises of dinner and maybe a kiss in the frozen aisle. today, she just shrugged on her jacket and said “let’s go,” already halfway out the door before you could ask why she was smiling like that.

you left her in aisle three to get cereal. when you came back, she was gone.

fifteen minutes later, you found her in the produce section, cross-legged on the floor next to a man with a shopping cart. but the cart wasn’t full of groceries. it held a cat.

a very fluffy, very smug-looking tabby cat in a little red harness, perched like a king on top of a blanket.

ellie looked up at you, eyes wide, voice high-pitched and weirdly soft.

“babe,” she whispered, like she’d just seen a ghost, “his name’s peanut.”

you stared. “what the hell is going on.”

you don’t realize it until later, but that was the exact moment your life changed.

because by the time you’re home, peanut is there too.

he trots in like he owns the place, tail high, purring loudly. ellie follows behind him with a small cardboard box of cat toys and a smug look on her face.

“he’s just staying the night,” she says, kicking her boots off.

“ellie.”

“it’s just a trial thing. his foster guy said we could see how it goes.”

“ellie, i’m allergic.”

she winces. “right. yeah. but you haven’t sneezed yet.”

you glare at her. she shrugs and tosses peanut a mouse toy. he chases it across the rug like he’s lived here forever.

that night, you wake up with peanut curled against your neck like a scarf.

you sneeze once. twice. ellie groans beside you and reaches for the cat.

“shit, sorry—peanut, get off—”

you grab her wrist. “leave him. he’s warm.”

you’re half-asleep and your nose is stuffy, but there’s something about the sound ellie makes in the dark—soft, surprised, almost fond—that makes you want to pretend this is fine.

maybe it is.

three days later, you catch ellie asleep on the couch, one arm tucked under her head, the other cradling peanut against her chest.

you take a picture. you don’t tell her.

when she finds it on your phone a week later, she doesn’t delete it.

“hey, i gotta tell you something.” ellie’s voice is suspiciously casual. you’re on the balcony, watching peanut sniff around a potted plant he definitely shouldn’t be in.

you raise an eyebrow. “if you tell me you bought a second cat, i’m jumping off this railing.”

she snorts. “no. just—uh. remember how i said this was temporary?”

you stare.

“i might’ve… already signed the adoption forms. like. a few days ago.”

you don’t say anything for a long moment.

peanut meows.

you sigh.

“you’re lucky he’s cute.”

ellie grins, tugs you close, presses a kiss to your temple.

“you love him.”

“i tolerate him.”

“you let him sleep on your pillow last night.”

“shut up, ellie.”

peanut meows again, louder this time, like he knows.

and yeah. maybe he does.

you wake up to peanut knocking your water glass off the nightstand.

ellie groans, buries her face in the pillow, and mutters something about “natural consequences.”

“he’s a menace,” you say, wiping water off the floor with a towel.

“he’s a genius,” ellie replies, stretching like a cat herself, her back arching, one leg tangled in the sheets.

“he drank from that glass first.”

“sharing is caring.”

you consider moving out. unfortunately, peanut is blocking the bedroom door.

living with ellie and peanut is like cohabiting with two toddlers who happen to love each other more than they love logic or boundaries.

you find a chewed shoelace in the sink. peanut.

you find cat treats in your hoodie pocket. ellie.

you find ellie and peanut asleep in the laundry basket together. both of them. in the basket.

you take another photo. you’re starting to think you should make an album.

“babe, he likes the window, so i moved the couch.”

you blink at the living room. the couch is now angled dramatically, halfway blocking the hallway, pointed toward the front window like a stage prop.

“this is ridiculous.”

“it’s feng shui. peanut needs sunlight.”

“he’s a cat, not a house plant.”

“don’t put him in a box like that.”

you glare. peanut sneezes. ellie gasps and picks him up like he’s made of glass.

“he sneezed. he’s delicate.”

you roll your eyes so hard it almost hurts.

you try to put your foot down. no cats on the dining table.

you say this three times over dinner. the fourth time, ellie sets her fork down and goes, “but what if he’s our centerpiece?”

you almost lose your mind. peanut blinks at you from the salad bowl.

ellie grins behind her glass of water. “i think he’s decorative.”

some nights, when peanut’s curled up in a tight little spiral between you and ellie, you lie awake and wonder how the hell this happened.

you used to be allergic. you used to be a dog person.

now you own three lint rollers, your laundry smells faintly of salmon-flavored kibble, and you once caught yourself talking to peanut like he was a roommate.

“are you gonna pay rent this month or just shit in the box again?”

he meowed. you took it as a no.

it’s a weird little life you’ve built.

you sneeze less now. you love ellie more. her dumb grin and peanut’s tiny meows.

one day starts with ellie bursting into the bedroom at 7 a.m. holding a box of confetti and a cat-shaped party hat.

“today’s the day,” she whispers, eyes wild.

“i’m going to kill you,” you mumble into your pillow.

“it’s his birthday.”

“he’s a rescue. you don’t know when he was born.”

“it’s the anniversary of when we got him. same thing.”

you peek over the blanket. she’s already taped a streamer to the door.

“he’s a cat,” you try.

“he’s our son.”

there’s no reasoning with her.

by noon, the kitchen table is covered in peanut-themed decorations.

a little cake made of wet cat food sits on a paper plate. there’s a pink candle sticking out of it. peanut is asleep in a paper bag.

“he’s so excited,” ellie says.

you point to the cat. “he’s unconscious.”

“he’s emotionally overwhelmed.”

the guest list consists of you, ellie, peanut, and one extremely uncomfortable neighbor ellie cornered in the hallway with a hand-drawn invitation.

there’s party music. party hats. ellie makes you wear matching shirts that say “peanut’s parents.”

you don’t even fight it. you’ve learned better.

the worst part? the party is actually kind of fun.

a week later, the fun is over.

peanut needs to go to the vet.

“he’s limping a little,” ellie says, frowning as peanut hops off the couch. “probably nothing, but i wanna be sure.”

you nod. reasonable. responsible.

then you see her pull out the cat carrier.

“oh no.”

“what? it’s fine.”

“he hates that thing.”

“we just have to be chill. animals sense fear.”

you raise an eyebrow. “you’re already sweating.”

“that’s from effort.”

it’s 8 a.m. and peanut is under the bed, screaming.

an hour later, you’re both in the waiting room with a groggy peanut and a vet who says he has a minor sprain.

“he needs rest,” she says. “no jumping or running for a week.”

ellie blinks at peanut. “you hear that, buddy? no parkour.”

peanut looks betrayed.

you watch ellie spoil peanut rotten for the next week.

you find catnip hidden in the fridge. you catch her trying to sneak treats under the dinner table. you watch her turn on soft music and gently brush peanut’s fur when she thinks no one is looking.

and it’s kind of adorable.

one rainy night, you’re curled on the couch, peanut asleep on your lap, ellie sitting close beside you.

she turns to you, voice soft.

“you know,” she says, “i love our little family.”

you squeeze her hand.

“me as well, love.” you say.

peanut stretches, yawns, and snuggles closer.

you smile.

you’re home.

the end.

#ellie williams #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams fluff #fluff #cats #cuties #dividers by saradika #thank you for reading #established relationship #wlw #wuh luh wuh

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darlingdaisyfarm · 9 months ago

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Stan Pines is the kind of man who can't just let you do anything without turning it into a compliment, like, every move you make, he's gotta say something. And it’s never normal.

You could be bent over organising some random crap around the Mystery Shack and this man will make it sound like you’re posing for him. Because, yeah, you’re just trying to organize his disaster of a desk, sorting through all his crumpled receipts, ticket stubs, whatever the hell else he’s hoarded.

“Your doin’ god’s work, sugar,” and it’s not even subtle. You look over your shoulder, half expecting him to actually be paying attention to the pile of garbage you're dealing with, but no. He’s leaning against the counter, counting out cash from the register, but all you see is that smirk. The one that makes it very clear his mind ain’t on the paperwork.

“Sorting your trash is god’s work?” you quip back, rolling your eyes, but the way he’s watching you with that smirk of his, makes your cheeks flush a bit.

“You know what I mean,” Stan mutters and now he’s just full-on undressing you with his eyes, the cash in his hands forgotten. “ya ain’t gotta try so hard, baby, because ya could sit on your ass all day and I’d still think ya did somethin’ special.” and your face burns at that, but he sees it, of course, he does. Stan ain’t dumb, despite the act he puts on for tourists. He’s so much more clever than he looks, always has been. The moment he catches that excitement in your eyes, he’s grinning like he’s just won a damn lottery.

“You like that, huh? being told how good you are?”

You smirk back, trying to play it off, but your voice comes out a little breathier than you mean for it to. “all that for organizing receipts? maybe you should give me a raise.”

Stan just laughs loudly. “yeah, sweetheart, you deserve the whole damn Shack.”

Or when, you’re just sitting at the counter, counting the cash from the register, going about your day and Stan? Well, Stan is “cleaning up,” which basically means he’s wiping the same spot for like five minutes straight while staring at you. You catch him, because he’s being too obvious with it. His eyes keep dipping to your lips every time you bite your pen and it’s distracting as hell.

“You’re too damn cute, y’know that?” he grumbles and it sounds like he’s mad about it, like you’ve done something wrong just by existing.

“You say that every day.” you shoot him a teasing smile, because yeah, this is the daily routine.

And Stan just sighs, smirking like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, and I’ll keep sayin’ it, sorry, baby, couldn’t shut up about ya if I tried.”

Then there’s when you’re fixing up one of the old displays, just tightening bolts or whatever and Stan’s “supervising.” Except by “supervising,” I mean, he’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you work with that wide grin on his face, satisfied and clearly enjoying the view.

“Goddamn, honey,” he mutters. “you makin’ this place look good just by bein’ in it. Hm, maybe I should start charging you for the view.”

You glance over your shoulder, raising your eyebrow, but smirking, because you know exactly what game he’s playing.

“What? I’d pay whatever ya want, sweetheart. You’re worth every penny.”

Or you’re just in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables for dinner. The radio’s on low, the sun setting through the windows. Stan’s sitting at the table, pretending to read the newspaper, but every once in a while you catch him glancing over the edge, just watching you move around the kitchen. It’s quiet until he breaks it.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, y’know that?” his voice is so soft, too sincere for Stanley Pines, but when you look over, he’s still got that damn smirk on his face.

You pause, knife in hand, and raise an eyebrow. “For chopping onions?”

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair, arms behind his head. “Nah, sugar, it’s just the way you’re movin’ around in there, i dunno how to explain it, but damn, you look good in my kitchen.”

You snort, shaking your head. “I’m literally cutting onions, Stan.”

“Yeah, still sexy. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

Then there’s the mornings. You’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth, hair a mess, wearing one of Stan’s old shirts that hangs way too big on you and he's leaning in the doorway, watching you like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. You catch his reflection in the mirror, raising an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugs with this lazy grin, continuing to admire to you.

“Can’t help it, sweetie, you look cute when you’re all domestic.”

you’re just brushing your teeth, but somehow, this man makes it sound like you’re doing the sexiest damn thing in the world

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #x reader #gravity falls x you #gravity falls smut #stan pines smut #stanley pines x reader #stan pines x reader #stanley pines x you #stanley pines #stan pines x you #stan pines #stan pines x oc #gravity falls fanfic #gravity falls imagine #grunkle stan

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softbeej · 1 year ago

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Rule Number One (You Gotta Have Fun)

Alastor x Reader Smut. U break his only rule and bother him while hes tryna work. Enjoy. :} Requests open btw.

Alastor had locked himself up in his radio tower for what felt like days. He was truly a workaholic, and loved to be busy. This was fine, except you found yourself actually sort of... missing him?

No sight of him creeping down the hallway or the impending feeling that he was about to catch you doing something prohibited at the hotel. It all felt too empty all of a sudden, and you wished he’d be back down soon, even if just to make you uneasy with that eerie smile.

So, you decided to break the number one rule set by him.

“Under no circumstances is anyone to ever enter the radio tower without my express permission.”

Well, what are rules if not to be broken, right? And that’s where you found yourself, climbing up into the prohibited area.

Ears pressed back, he turned to face you. There was no other way to put it, Alastor was fucking pissed.

You shouldn’t of come up here. You should of listened to his stupid rule, and busied yourself with something else. Maybe you had time to turn around, and pretend you made a wrong turn.

“I trust you have something important for me? Something that would be worth you coming all the way up here without my say so, hm?”

His voice was even more staticky than usual, his tone dripping with sarcasm. You were thinking up a response when he stood up and strode over to you. He jabbed his microphone stand under your jaw, albeit gently, and forced you to look at him.

“Well, deary?”

You only shook your head, hair bouncing on your shoulders.

“Then why, pray tell, are you up here? And use your words this time, yes?”

Within those few words, you suddenly understood why he was so feared. Just from the way he spoke, he could make you feel tiny and stupid.

“I, um, was just wondering where you were, is all...”

“Oh?” He released the microphone stand and you faced the floor again, feeling like a child about to get scolded. “You did know where I was though, didn’t you? So, I’ll ask once more. What brought you up here?”

He had retired back to his chair, and was watching you intently as you squirmed at his questioning. His smile never once left his face.

“You know what, I should go-“

Slam. His shadow had closed the door.

“Has no one ever told you it’s rude to ignore someone, darling? I’m just asking you a simple question, what’s the need for all this attitude? Why are you here?”

Blush rising to your face, you picked at skin around your nails still not wanting to look at his shit eating grin.

“I was bored. Missed you.”

“Ah, there we go! You see how easy that was?”

You nodded, “Can I go now? Sorry for interrupting...”

“Nonsense! You missed me, did you not? You came all the way up here for me, desperate for my attention. Well, dear, my attention you have got. Come, sit, sit.” He patted his thigh.

Oh, how you wished the world would swallow you up right now. But the worst part of this was how turned on you were at his lecturing. You think your reaction was doing the same to him, given the way his ears were perked up and pupils blown.

You walked over to him, gently perching on his knee, before he pulled you down by your waist so you were properly sitting in his lap. He continued working, tapping buttons and twisting dials, as you could only sit there and pray your heart rate would soon go back to normal.

"If I did not know any better, I'd say this encounter has you quite excited, darling! The way your pulse is rising, and not to mention the fact I can smell the arousal on you!" He laughed. "You'd tell me, wouldn't you? If I had brought out such emotions in you."

Your blood drew hot in shame, he knew.

You nodded and tried to save face, "Yes, Alastor. I'm fine, just- my pulse is high from the walk up here, that's all."

"And if you were to stand up, your answer would be the same, I presume?"

Confused, you cocked your head. He didn't say anything, just wrapped his hands around your waist and stood you up.

There it was, the evidence he was looking for. A wet patch on his thigh. Right from where you were sitting. Your wetness had leaked through your panties, leaving a spot on his dress pants.

“Well, look at this mess. And my best pants, no less! Do you have anything to say for yourself, dear?”

You shook your head, never so embarrassed in your life.

He tutted, "First, you lie about why you came up here. Then you lie about this? Darling, have you no manners? Or am I to teach you them myself, hm?"

His eyes were half lidded now, ears twitching.

"I- uh. I think you need to teach me, Alastor..." You admitted, not able to take your eyes off him.

“Finally! The right answer! You’re getting the hang of this now, eh?” He laughed, and patted his thigh - the one you’d dirtied, “Back up here. May as well see how much more you can ruin them.”

Legs shaking, you stood up and straddled his thigh. He leaned in close, “Now get yourself off. You can do that, yes? If your mewls at night are anything to go by, I’d say you’re to be a natural at this!”

The thought of Alastor hearing you play with yourself through your bedroom door sent shivers down your spine, in a good way. He grabbed your chin, angling your head to face him.

“I said you can do that, yes, dear?”

You nodded, hands reaching up to his shoulders to steady yourself as you started grinding down on his thigh like your life depended on it, maybe it did. You could feel his cock hardening. His hands trailed down your body to your hips where they stayed, helping you slowly ride his thigh.

“Theres a good girl, hm? See what happens when you behave?”

You nodded, breathing heavy, “Uh-huh.”

Alastor nodded, his hips gently bucking up for friction. Your hand went to zipper to help, but he brushed it away.

“This is your lesson. Not mine.” He winked.

So you kept riding his thigh, until your own thighs were weak, and you were close. And he knew it.

“If this were a proper lesson, I wouldn’t allow you to cum. But you’ve been so good, so good for me... You may cum.”

You nodded into the nook of his neck, letting out a pathetic whiny mewl as you came, soddening his pants. From the sound of it, he came too, letting out a staticky grunt that would of hurt your ears if you were paying attention, but you were too busy grinding your way through your climax, as he shushed you gently.

He helped you stand up, your thighs shaking and almost giving out under you. A sharp finger pressed into the stain on his pants, before he collected some of the wetness and licked it off.

“Head off to my bedroom, now, love. Get yourself cleaned up. I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

The walk to his bedroom was strange to say the least. Your knees shaking and panties wet, of course Angel was going to say something.

“Christ, you look like you been fucked good, sweets.”

“I have, I think...?”

“Oh yeah? And whose the lucky son of a bitch, huh? He knows not to fuck with you, right?” He winked, ever protective of you.

As if on cue, Alastor appeared, strolling carelessly toward you both. A hand on your shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt, Angel, my dear, but I’m afraid we have something to take care of. If you’ll excuse us...” He guided you away, towards his room.

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin smut #alastor

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strangemaleswaps · 4 months ago

Text

Strange Double Dad Swap

Hunter:

It was a regular day. My boyfriend, Quinn, and I were hanging around my house on a Saturday. We had just finished breakfast and were deciding what to do.

“Man it's way too hot today. I don't feel like doing anything,” Quinn announced. It was true, there was definitely a heat wave going on or something. Normal people would stay inside, but a certain someone had other plans.

“Hey boys!” My dad walked into the room with a determined look on his face.

“Hey dad. What's up?”

“I'm gonna go fix that hole on the roof. The neighbors paid for the damages their kids did to it, but somebody’s still gotta do the work.”

“Today?” It's too hot out.

“Well,” he said with a laugh. “You can't stop progress!”

Once he walked out to the garage and was out of earshot, Quinn spoke up.“Your dad is like the biggest workaholic ever.”

“I know right.”

“Better than being lazy…like you,” he teased.

“Hey!” We laughed and then decided to watch a movie.

Quinn:

A few hours later we were talking in our group chat with a couple old school friends. Somehow the topic got to Hunter's dad and how hot he was. He looked at me with a confused face.

“My dad?”

“You gotta admit. He's pretty hot.”

“What the hell? No way.”

“Well of course you would say that. He’s like…your dad. Duh.”

“Well what if I said your dad was hot? He really is actually.

”Ew. He did not just go there. The idea of my dad being considered hot by anyone, was an unsettling thought. Who could like a guy like him? He was always supportive of me and all, but tended to be overly formal in casual situations.

“My dad? Gross. He's like…all traditional and stuff.” He laughed.

“And how does that affect his looks?”

“It doesn't. I mean…well he's fat and has had the same ugly mustache since the 90s.”

“Well I happen to think the chubby mustache combo is pretty sexy…”

“Gross! Stop! Your dad is the sexy one! Those piercing hazel eyes…that fit bod…”

We got in each other's faces and after a couple seconds of silence, we flopped back onto the couch and started laughing.

“If anyone heard us just now, they'd think we were nuts!” Hunter said between laughs.

“True!” I replied. “Well whatever. What are we gonna do now? I'm still bored.”

“I have an idea,” he scooted closer to me and began stroking my pants.

“But your dad's home.”

“Yeah, but he's on the roof. He's such a perfectionist with all his projects; he'll be there all day.”

“Yeah I guess.” I let out a laugh. “Well then…shall we head over to the bedroom?”

Hunter:

As Quinn sucked my dick, all I could think about was his dad. How hot it would be to fuck him, and watch him cum. Man, that would be amazing. But it was only a dream. It would really make things awkward between Quinn and I, even if it somehow did happen. I guess the only thing I could do was close my eyes and pretend he was his dad. I leaned over and kissed him, pretending he had that sexy mustache.

“I'm gonna cum!” He said between breaths. He got onto his back and jerked while I did the same, sitting on top of him. My last thought was of his dad before I closed my eyes and came; The sound of Quinn’s moaning meant that he finished too - the same time as me. It was so intense that I started feeling a little lightheaded. Before I knew it, I blacked out.

Quinn:

I opened my eyes to find I was outside. What happened? The last thing I remember, we were messing around and I came. I've been known to get so exhausted afterward that I want to take a nap, but that was just straight up blacking out. Was this a dream? I looked around and realized that I was outside my dad's restaurant. What was I doing here? It was then that I noticed it was extra hot and I found that I was wearing long sleeves. I examined my clothes to see I was wearing a tie with a black shirt and vest combo. No wonder I was sweating my ass off. But I think I recognized the outfit. My dad's? That couldn't be…

I walked inside and scanned the area. I spent a lot of time at this restaurant as a kid so I knew the layout pretty well. I would probably get an explanation by talking to my dad, so I headed for his office, but was stopped by one of the waitresses.

“Hi Mr. Rivera! How are you today?” I had no idea who this waitress was but I didn't want to be rude so I greeted her back.

“I'm good. Thanks.” My voice came out raspier than usual. A little deeper too. What was going on?

I tried the door handle. Locked. Great. What was I supposed to do now? I took a seat on the nearby bench and it felt like I sat on something, but nothing was on the bench. I searched my back pockets and it was almost like my butt was bigger somehow. I grabbed a pair of keys - my dad's pair of keys. Oh god. What if…?

I quickly turned the keys and closed the door behind me. I felt around my front pockets and took out a phone - his phone. I opened the front camera and found his face staring back at me. Fuck no, this couldn't be happening! How did I switch bodies with my dad? What was I going to say to Hunter?

Hunter:

What happened? I opened my eyes to the blue sky, but looked down to find I was on the roof! What the hell?! I scanned the area and noticed that I was home…on the roof. Did my dad bring me up here somehow?”

“Hey dad! Where are you?” I said, but my voice came out weird. Deeper somehow. I caught sight of my hands and found I was wearing gloves that had some dirt on them. My dad's gloves? What was going on? When I noticed that I was wearing his clothes - the same clothes he was wearing earlier this morning - it suddenly hit me.

“What the hell! I'm my dad!” I screamed.

How did this happen? What was Quinn going to think? And how do I even get down from the roof…

Quinn:

I held the phone up to my ear and anxiously waited for my dad to pick up. I realized that if I was in his body, he must be in mine right? After a few seconds, it went to ringtone. I couldn't wait any longer so I decided to go there myself. It wasn't too long of a drive to Hunter's house at least. I walked through the restaurant, (thankfully no employees noticed me), and pressed the button on the keys to locate my car. The reflection in the car reminded me of what I looked like, but I tried to ignore it and got into the driver's seat. There, I could see a clear reflection of myself in the rear view mirror for the first time. It was definitely my dad's face. His double chin was so evident without any facial hair - well except for his ugly mustache. I touched it with two fingers and brushed along to see what it felt like. I grazed the back of my head to find the bald spot he had there. This was so gross! I turned the ignition and was on my way to figure out how to fix this!

Hunter:

After climbing down the ladder, I was back inside the house and I immediately headed towards the bedroom where Quinn and I fucked. There we found our bodies seemingly unconscious on the bed, in the same position we were in. It was really creepy.

“Hey uh. Dad? Wake up…” I said hesitantly. No response.

“Wake up!” I said even louder. No response.

They must be in a coma or something. Oh god what if I was stuck like this? I headed towards the bathroom and found my dad's face staring back at me in the mirror. I made different facial expressions and started to creep myself out. Thankfully I was interrupted by the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. I made my way and opened the front door just as Quinn's dad jumped out of the car, almost losing his balance as his feet hit the concrete

.“Sorry, I'm not used to this…” He looked up at me. “Oh uh I mean, hey there Mr. Patterson. Um, have you seen my uh son?”

I think I had an idea what was going on.

“Quinn?” I asked.

“Yeah? I mean- yeah that's his name…I mean…” He paused for a few seconds until he must've realized what had happened too.

“H-hunter? Is that you?”

“Yep. And that's really you in there?”

“Oh god. This sucks! What are we going to do? Wait, where are our bodies?”

“In the room where we last were. Whether or not our dads are in our bodies doesn't matter because they're unconscious or something.”

“So we're stuck like this?”Suddenly I had an idea.

“Well…you did say my dad was hot…”

“What are you getting at….OH.” Quinn replied as I smirked. “But…I mean...it's my dad's dick!”

“Yeah I know. But this may be your only chance to fuck my dad. Same thing for me too.”

“Well…being in a different body means I'm horny again so…”I leaned in for a kiss. The brushing of his mustache against my face felt amazing. Even better than I imagined!

“Shall we go?” Quinn said with a smile.

Quinn:

We didn't know what to do with our bodies so we just left them there and closed the door. Hopefully they wouldn't hear anything if they somehow were still conscious.We went into Hunter's dad's room and he immediately started stripping. He had the sexiest athletic body. Blond hair covered his entire chest and while he didn't have a six pack or anything, he had some pretty decent pecs.

Hunter looked into the mirror and made a frown.

“This is so gross!”

“Maybe don't look at your face in the mirror. Only look at the body.”

“I guess it's not as bad when I do that. But still…” He gazed at me with lust in his eyes. “Your turn.”

I so wasn't ready for this! But he hugged me and began to strip me himself, starting with my tie and vest. Each piece of clothing made my dad's chubby body more and more obvious. He started unbuttoning my shirt until the tank top underneath was revealed. I guess I didn't look as bad as I thought. My dad must've lost weight. I didn't want to go any further than that, but I also really wanted to feel his body against mine so I lifted the tank top off happily…but I was met with a terrifying surprise.

“Shit,” I said. My chubby rolls slapped the rest of my body as I gawked at myself in the mirror. It's no wonder that the tank top felt so constricting. It was holding in all that blubber.

I turned to Hunter and expected him to be upset, but was instead met with a sexy smirk. God, making his dad do those hot expressions was really turning me on.

“Wait you like this?” I asked.

“Of course. You're even bigger than I thought. An absolute muffin top.” He came from behind and wrapped his arms around me. I could feel my dick harden as much as it could and grasped it. It was still gross the idea that it was my dad’s dick but I didn't care. All that mattered was Hunter's sexy body.

He reached his hands over and grabbed my man tits. When he played with them, I experienced sensations I never felt before as a twink. Vibrations went through my body as he jiggled every bit of squishy flesh. I turned around to return the favor - I kneeled down and started sucking his cock. He was huge! Much bigger than what he had before. It wasn't any harder to take it in though; I guess my dad's mouth must've opened bigger than mine. He put his hands around the back of my head and started pushing his cock down my throat. Faster and faster, as I jerked myself.

Suddenly he stopped as I could feel the warm cum shoot down my throat at the same time I shot my own load. In one big gulp I swallowed it all and hopped onto my back, the flabby rolls jiggling as I did.

Afterwards we washed up and Hunter put on one of his dad's t-shirts, while I just put on what I had before, because I knew nothing would fit me. We walked back into Hunter's room to see if our dads had woken up, to find that they had disappeared completely. In fact, the whole room was magically cleaned up and the bed made, as if it was a guest room and always had been.

“So…I guess we're the dads now,” Hunter said with a smirk.

“And best of all, we don't have any sons,” I replied as I opened Grindr.

#strangemaleswaps #male body swap #body swap #male tf #young to old

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ssweeterthanfiction · 6 months ago

Text

Glimpse of Us

summary: routine became something finnick cherished. but course, the capitol must ruin everything, including his love. but he will still find a way to get her back.

finnick odair x fem!reader

content warnings for the whole story: descriptions of death, torture, starvation, and everything described in The Hunger Games, mentions of suicidal thoughts, implications of S/A

mood board + playlist

previous part | masterlist | next part

Chapter III

You couldn't sleep and Finnick was trying his hardest to get you to sleep, even if it was for a little while.

"Come on angel...you've gotta sleep, you need energy for tomorrow" he says as he strokes your hair.

You've always had trouble sleeping, ever since you won your games. Nightmares were something that came with winning, but Finnick was always there to console you. No matter how long it took, he was always there.

When he finally got you to sleep, he held you for a little while longer before slowly pulling away.

He went to the living room and sat in the dark. His mind was racing. What if you get hurt in the arena? What if you die? His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the soft swish of the door open.

He thought you had woken up, but when he turned his head he saw Haymitch.

"Haymitch. What brings you by?"

"Just came to drop this off.." he says as he holds up a gold bangle.

Haymitch tosses it to Finnick and he catches it with ease. "Put it on before you go in tomorrow, then show it to Katniss, she'll know that you guys are allies."

Finnick quirks an eyebrow, "Are you sure?"

Haymitch shrugs, "We'll only be able to see tomorrow"

"About tomorrow..." he says, spinning the bangle around his finger, "This whole plan. Are you sure it's gonna work?"

"About 90% sure it'll work"

"Can you promise me something?"

Haymitch nods, "Sure"

"If anything goes wrong, you save her. Get Katniss, get Peeta, get whoever else you need to and save her. Leave me if it comes down to it."

Finnick watches as Haymitch hesitates, "Promise me Haymitch or I won't protect Katniss and Peeta." he says in a low threatening tone.

Haymitch puts his hands up in mock surrender, "Alright, alright. I promise."

After Haymitch leaves, Finnick returns to you, wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace.

🌊 .·:*¨🌊🐚🌊¨*:·. 🌊

The next morning, you both woke up at the same time and decided to stay in eachothers arms for as long as possible.

Neither of you wanted to get up, you both knew what it meant if you did.

Finnick kisses the top of your forehead. He could feel the heat of your skin against his, the soft thrum of your heartbeat. For a brief second, he allowed himself to pretend that everything was normal, that this wasn’t the last morning he might spend with you. He knew it wasn’t possible, but he wanted to hold onto that feeling of peace for just a little longer.

It was only when the silence grew unbearable, when the weight of what was coming came crashing down.

Finnick pulled away just enough to look at you. Your eyes were wide, searching his face as if to find an answer, a reassurance he wasn’t sure he had.

"Finnick... I..." you started, but the words faltered on your lips. He could see the fear in your eyes. The same fear that he saw in your eyes when he mentored you.

"Don’t," he whispered, gently cupping your face in his hands. "You don’t have to say it. I know."

You swallowed hard, but your gaze never left his. Finnick felt his heart crack a little more as he saw the vulnerability in your eyes. He planted his lips on yours, "We’re going to make it through this," he said firmly, more to himself than to you. He didn’t know if he believed it, but he had to say it. For you. For both of you.

You nodded slowly, he could tell you didn’t believe it either, but you were trying for his sake.

He kissed you gently again, as if trying to imprint that feeling of safety into you for the storm that would come. "I’ll never leave you. Not now. Not ever."

For a long moment, neither of you moved. You just held each other, that was until you heard the high pitched voice of Lyssandra call out for both of you.

"Guess it's time.." he says in an annoyed tone.

You both get up from the bed. Finnick pulls you close, cups you face and gazes into your eyes, kissing you one last time before letting you go. "I'll see you soon." ***

"I'll see you soon tadpole."

Finnick watched as Kael gave you a big bear hug before being ushered onto the hovercraft with the other boys. He could see that you were nervous, well of course you were, you were basically being sent to your death. But Finnick knew that Kael would protect you in the arena.

Your voice trembled as you spoke, pulling him from his thoughts. "Any last advice?"

Finnick takes a step close and give you a tight hug, "Stick with Kael and stay alive."

He pulled away from you reluctantly, his hands lingering on your arms for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. "Stay alive," he repeated, his voice breaking slightly.

You nodded, though Finnick could see the uncertainty in your eyes. He wanted to say more, but the hovercraft’s engines roared louder, drowning out everything else.

As he watched you board the hovercraft, he wanted nothing more than to pull you back into his arms where you would be safe.

But he couldn't.

He could only hope that you would survive and make it back to him.

***

Finnick blinks a few times as he adjusts to the light of the arena. Looking around him he noticed that the cornucopia was in the middle of a lake and so was everyone's starting podiums.

"Let the 75th Hunger Games begins. May the odds be ever in your favor."

He looks around frantically for you but can't figure out where you are. Wherever you were, he needed to find you, Katniss, and Peeta fast.

"Ten."

Finnick’s heart pounded as the countdown began. He scanned the expanse desperately, his eyes darting from one podium to the next.

"Nine."

Where were you? Were you close by or on the opposite side? His chest tightened at the thought of you being too far away, out of reach before the bloodbath began. He had to find you. You had to survive. He wouldn’t forgive himself if you didn't.

"Eight."

Finnick’s hands tightened balled into fists. He felt the anxiety again. The same anxiety he felt when he was fourteen.

"Seven."

His gaze landed on Katniss, a few podiums to his left. Her face was set in determination, her body tense like a coiled spring. He knew it would be easy to get to her

"Six."

Where were you? His jaw clenched as frustration and panic built in his chest. He should’ve been able to spot you by now, to gauge how far you were and what he needed to do to get to you. The lake wasn’t large, but it felt infinite when you weren’t within his sight.

"Five."

His mind raced with possibilities. Would you run for the Cornucopia? No, that wasn’t your style. You’d likely stay back, wait for the chaos to thin out before making a move. But this was different. What was smart in your first games wouldn't be as smart now.

"Four."

Finnick reminded himself that you're strong. Stronger than you gave yourself credit for.

"Three."

His muscles tensed. He could already hear the splashes of water, the frantic scrambles of tributes who’d dive in as soon as the cannon sounded. He could picture the chaos, the blood, the screams. It was always the same, no matter the arena.

"Two."

Finnick took a deep breath and locked his eyes on a trident. If he couldn’t see you now, he’d find you once he got to the center. He had to. He’d promised himself that much. He’d protect you, no matter what it cost him.

"One."

The cannon sounded, and Finnick leaped into the water, the world exploding into chaos around him. His only thought, his only focus, was finding you before it was too late.

It wasn't long before he reached the center. He grabed his trident and after a quick encounter with Katniss that would establish the alliance, he was quick to make the first kill of the District 5 male that tried to run up on him and Katniss and after that was taken care of he went to the other side to look for you and Peeta.

He calls out your name and then sees you standing on the strip of rocks with a spear in hand as you look into the water. He calls out your name again.

Your head snaps up, "Finnick! It's Peeta!"

Finnick holds up his hand, "Just wait there! I'm gonna go get Katniss!"

He doesn't take long to come back with Katniss.

"He's there!" you say as you point to Peeta fighting a tribute in the water.

Finnick hands you his trident and immediately dives into the water. As he swims to Peeta, he panics when a cannon goes off and a body floats up to the surface.

But once he sees Peeat pop his head out he lets out a sigh of relief, one that he's sure everyone shared.

Once he has Peeta, you all start making your way to the jungle, the one place you all think you'll be safe.

Finnick takes your hand, holding it with a firm grip and runs behind Katniss and Peeta.

The four of you pushed deeper into the jungle, the thick canopy above shielding you from the blistering sun. Finnick’s mind raced as he scanned your surroundings.

"Okay, hold up. Hold up!"

Now in the middle of the jungle you all stop and crouch down, trying to desperatelt cath your breaths.

Finnick puts his hand over yours and squeezes it, a silent way of asking if you're okay, when you nod Finnick relaxes a bit.

"God it's hot. We gotta find fresh water." Peeta says, panting slightly.

Before anyone can respond, the cannon fires three times. Three more tributes are gone.

"Well I guess we're not holding hands anymore." Finnick says as he laughs.

He watches as you shoot him a 'shut up' look, silently scolding him for what he said.

Katniss glares at him. “You think that's funny?” she snaps, her voice icy and accusatory.

“Every time that cannon goes off, it’s like music to my ears,” he says smoothly. “I don’t care about any of them.”

He feels you nudge his shoulder and watches as you shake your head.

“Good to hear,” Katniss bites back, her expression hardening as she draws her machete with a metallic scrape.

"Wanna face the Career Pack alone? What would Haymitch say?"

"Haymitch isn't here."

You and Peeta exchange a look and Finnick watches as you both start to get up.

"Let's keep moving." Peeta says as he gets up.

You get up as well, but Finnick and Katniss don't. They stay crouched on the ground, glaring at eachother.

"Finnick." you say in a firm, yet soft tone.

Finnick finally stops glaring at Katniss, "Right...okay."

As you all start to traverse through the jungle, Finnick could feel the tension between the two of you.

"Did you have to say something earlier?" you say in a hushed tone.

Finnick scoffs under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, come on. I’m the one who kept everyone alive so far. I grabbed the trident, took out a tribute, and got Peeta out of the water, didn’t I? Forgive me for cracking a joke.”

You stop walking for a split second before catching up to him again. “It’s not about the joke,” you mutter, your voice quiet but firm. “It’s about the way you said it. You sounded like you didn’t care.”

Finnick’s steps falter, and he glances at you, his expression softening just slightly. “I care,” he murmurs, his tone barely audible. “You know I do.”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, your annoyance fading but not entirely gone. “Then show it. Because if she thinks she can’t trust you, this whole thing isn't gonna last long and then the plan will be out the window."

Before he could even think of responding, the sound of Katniss screaming cuts through the air, and before anyone could even react, Peeta goes flying off the force field and crashes into everyone.

Finnick groans, "Are you okay?"

You nod but then start hitting his shoulder and pointing to Katniss.

"He's not breathing. He's not breathing! He's not breathing- Peeta!"

Finnick dashes towards the two and pushes Katniss off of Peeta to start CPR.

You see Katniss go to reach for her machete, her movements quick and defensive, but before she can strike, you call out sharply, “Katniss, stop!”

Her hand freezes in mid-air, fingers gripping the hilt of her machete, eyes wild with confusion and fear. The tension in the air is suffocating, and for a moment, everything stands still.

"Come on Peeta. Come on."

A painful silence hangs in the air as Finnick continues, his heart hammering in his chest. The seconds stretch out like an eternity, every beat of his pulse ringing in his ears.

Then, finally, finally a shudder runs through Peeta’s body. Finnick’s breath hitches, and he shifts, leaning in closer as Peeta coughs, sputters, and gasps for air, his chest heaving as life returns to him.

"Peeta?" Katniss breathes, her voice soft with disbelief as she touches his shoulder gently. "Peeta oh my god”

Finnick takes a step back and you take a step closer to him.

You both watch as Katniss kisses and as she pulls Peeta into a tight embrace.

"It's real." you whisper.

Finnick looks down at you for a spilt second and then back at Katniss and Peeta.

It defineitely is real.

🌊 .·:*¨🌊🐚🌊¨*:·. 🌊

After walking for a bit longer, the group stops as Katniss climbs up a tree.

You step closer to Finnick and reach out for his hand.

You look flushed, the heat and dehydration was catching up to you.

"You okay angel?" he says in a gentle tone.

"Yeah... just had a little déjà vu back there.”

Finnick tilts his head, brows furrowing as he watches you, “Déjà vu? What do you mean?”

You stay quiet for a moment, "When you were giving Peeta CPR...it reminded me of what happened in my games." you whisper, looking down at the ground.

Finnick frowns, he knows exactly what you're talking about.

***

He was sitting in a lavish Capitol viewing party, surrounded by jeering, laughing citizens who are oblivious to the weight of the lives being traded for their amusement. His eyes were glued to the screen, watching as the Games unfold in front of him.

You and Kael were safe, you were both deep in the forest, away from all the other tributes. The cameras were constantly following the two of you, you were both already deemed Capitol favorites.

“Oh, aren’t they just adorable together?” one woman gushed, her hair a shock of neon pink feathers. “Kael is such a protector. Did you see how he looked at her when she almost tripped over that root?”

The party goers continued to comment and make remarks while the cameras continued to follow you both as you forged for something to eat.

He was already thinking of how if neither of you found anything, he could just persude one of these partygoers to send you bread, soup, anything to keep you alive.

He watched as you picked a few berries and examined them, he could tell that you weren't sure if they were safe to eat, but you still set them down onto a small leaf ontop of a rock.

He watched as you turned your back to try to find some more...but then he saw a tribute. He felt his heart stop. Kael was no where near you, so if this tribute attacked, you would have to fight on your own.

But instead of going after you, he watched as they lunged for the berries and as they ate all of them.

The tribute had collapsed almost immediately. The camera zoomed in on their lifeless body, the effects of the poison quick and deadly.

He watched as you turned around and froze. Your face twisted in horror, your hands were shaking violently. You realized what had happened. You hadn’t meant for this.

Without hesitation, you dropped to you knees beside the fallen tribute, desperately pressing your hands to their chest, trying to revive them, trying to save them.

But it was too late.

He wanted to turn away, to block out the sight of you cradling the body in your arms, your face streaked with tears as you whispered frantic apologies.

“Oh, she’s so sweet,” one Capitol woman remarked, her hand pressed to her chest, her voice high with faux sympathy. “She never meant to do that. She was just trying to help. Poor thing.”

The women around him murmur in agreement, calling you “sweet” and “innocent". “She doesn’t belong here,” one woman says, tsking as she crosses her legs. “Such a delicate thing. She’ll never survive, not with that soft heart of hers.”

He wanted to tell them to shut up as they all continued to make comments. But he couldn't. All he could do was hope that you come out of this alive.

***

"The force field. It's a dome, we're at the edge of the arena." Katniss says as she adjusts her bow. "I couldn't find any signs of fresh water."

Everyone shares a look of disappointment. It was now hotter than before, almost too unbarable.

"It's gonna get dark soon." Finnick says, "We'll be safe with our backs protected. We should set up camp."

"We can take turns sleeping" you say.

Finnick nods, "I'll take first watch."

"Not a chance." Katniss scoffs.

He scoffs and stands up.

"Honey. That thing I did for Peeta back there? It's called saving his life."

"If I wanted to kill either of you, I would've done it by now."

"Finnick.." you say as a warning.

He starts walking away but you tug on his arm.

"Finn. Come on. Stop acting like this."

"Like what?

"Like you don't care!"

He gazes at you as you put your hand on his cheek.

"Finn. I know you care. More than anyone I know you care." you whisper. "But they don't." you say as you motion to Katniss and Peeta.

"I know.." he whispers, "But you know I can't just break this whole act."

You nod, "I know...I just- I don't want Katniss to not trust us."

He puts his hand on you cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin as he gazes into you eyes. “I’ll try,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “For you. But it’s not gonna be easy.”

“I’m not asking for perfect,” you whisper back, your voice soft yet firm. “Just… don’t make them think you’re the enemy. We need them as much as they need us.”

His lips twitch into a faint smile, “Alright, angel. I’ll behave. For now.”

You let out a small, relieved sigh and drop your hand from his arm, giving him a nod. Finnick straightens, his gaze briefly flickering to Katniss and Peeta, who are both watching the two of you from a distance. Katniss still looks wary, her hand resting on her bow, while Peeta’s expression is one of observation, as if he’s trying to piece together what's going on between you and Finnick.

🌊 .·:*¨🌊🐚🌊¨*:·. 🌊

It's not long before nightfall hits. Finnick and Katniss are the only two awake as you and Peeta try to rest.

He keeps his gaze locked on you as you sleep next to him, admiring how pretty you look under the moonlight of the arena. Then he looks over at Katniss.

"How's Peeta?"

"He's okay I think. Dehydrated like the rest of us." Katniss says as she looks over to you, "How's she?"

Finnick sighs, "She's fine, just like you said, dehydrated. I just hope she doesn't get sick." he says as he runs his hand through your hair.

"You really care about her, don't you?"

Finnick look at Katniss, who has a look of skepticism on her face. He nods, "Course I do."

Before Katniss can say anything back, the anthem starts playing causing you and Peeta to wake up.

You all look up and watch as the holograms of the fallen tributes appear on the screen. You and Finnick share a sigh of relief when you don't see anyone that's apart of the plan up on the screen.

Except for Seeder and Cecelia.

Finnick watches as you tear up when you see Cecelia up on the screen.

"Her kids Finny..." you say as your voice breaks, "Her kids...they’re all alone…"

He's quick to put his hand against your cheek to console you, "I know angel. I know." he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you. Your forehead rests against his shoulder, your quiet sobs muffled by the crook of his neck.

“It’s not fair,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“I know,” he says, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. “It’s never been fair. But that’s why we have the plan, angel. To make sure it ends.” he says so quietly that only you can hear, letting you go from his arms.

Once the holograms finish, Katniss says she counted eight. Sixteen tributes are still out there.

The familar sound of the chiming of a sponsor gift fills the air.

Katniss walks over to it and Finnick follows her.

When Katniss realizes its a spile, she goes over to a tree and using a rock she taps it into the tree. The minute water starts trickling out of the tube, everyone starts to drink from it.

Before you can even move, Finnick comes up to your side with a leaf full of water.

"Finn..I could've gotten it myself.."

He smiles, "But I wanted to get it for you. Here, drink" he says as he brings up the leaf to your lips.

He watches as you drink from it, "Better? Do you want more?"

"I'm fine, I don't need anymore, this is enough."

He nods and places a hand on your cheek, "Come on, let's get you back to sleep."

A few minutes pass and you're sound asleep next to Finnick again, he idly runs his fingers through your hair in a soothing motion.

Only when you hear the banging of what sounds like a gong do you wake up.

"What's going on?" you say sleepily.

"I don't know.." Finnick says, looking around.

"I counted 12." Katniss says.

"For midnight?" Finnick says, continuing to stroke your hair.

"Or for the number of Districts"

You then all hear and see a huge strike of lighting hit a tree in the distance multiple times.

You all look at it puzzled by what it meant.

Finnick sighs, "Well..if you're not gonna sleep, I will" he says to Katniss as he moves to lay down with you.

🌊 .·:*¨🌊🐚🌊¨*:·. 🌊

You were lying on Finnick's chest as he holds you close. Both of you were fast asleep. Hearing the distance sounds of the waves coming from the beach made it feel like you were both back home.

That you were both back in four in the comfort of your house.

But the ugly reality came crashing down when you were both awoken by Katniss' screams of pain.

A/N: AND THAT ENDS DAY ONE OF THE GAMES!!!!!! i hope u guys enjoyed! next chapter will be filled with more finnick and angel moments I PROMISE. also if u guys have any questions or just wanna like chat my asks/requests are open! i don't have school AT ALL this week so i will be able to respond to a lot more than usual!

Taglist: @jacaeryslover @sundawn1990 @redama @noodleisodd **if you'd like to be included in this taglist lmk in the replies!

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #thg finnick #the hunger games #finnick odair imagine #finnick fanfic #i love finnick odair #finnick imagine #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick #hunger games finnick #finnick odair angst #finnick odair fluff #catching fire #thg

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heytheredelulu · 1 year ago

Text

I Gotta Take This.

Bucky Barnes x Female Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1k

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

C/W: Language, Bucky sends a dickpic, reference to his beautiful cock 😏, implied sex

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to pay attention to the mission briefing the longer Bucky Barnes continued to undress you with his stupid, blue eyes from across the room.

‘Stop staring at me, weirdo.’ You text him from beneath the table, turning your attention back to Steve and Tony before either of the men standing and addressing the room had the opportunity to catch you on your phone.

You weren’t surprised when the device buzzed against your thigh no more than thirty seconds later.

‘It’s hard not to stare when I keep imagining you naked’

Motherfucker.

‘Keep it in your pants, Barnes.’ You text back quickly, shifting in your seat to keep your phone obscured. You glance back up at him to where he sits across the long table in front you, his head bowed slightly as he reads the message, a devilish smirk beginning to stretch across his face.

Oh goddamnit, you know that look.

Your eyes flit back down to your lap in anticipation just as the notification pops up for a new message. You open it and immediately fumble, nearly dropping your phone as you quickly try to close out of the photo he’d just sent you of his hand wrapped around his thick and angry cock. You were so focused on trying to ensure Nat and Clint seated opposite you hadn’t seen the picture that you hadn’t realized how indiscreet you were being until Steve cleared his throat.

“Everything okay over there?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

“Ye- Yeah. Yeah. Fine.” You reply, your voice an octave higher than normal and you notice Bucky stifling a laugh from across the table.

“Right, let’s refocus then.” Steve says sternly, turning back to the screen behind him. As soon as the super soldier’s back is to you, you whip your phone back out, typing frantically.

‘What the hell is wrong with you!? Do you just keep dick pics on deck for your convenience?’

You watch Bucky grin as he leans back in his seat, fingers moving swiftly across his screen, before slowly raising his head back up to pin you under his intense gaze as your phone vibrates yet again.

‘Empty conference room. Down the hall. Make an excuse.’

You blink a few times, staring at the message in disbelief.

He’s out of his mind. There’s no way you’re going to-

‘Now.’

This man would be the death of you.

You scoot your chair back and stand up, drawing the attention of every Avenger in the room.

“I’m so sorry but I have to take this phone call.” You lie, avoiding their stares by looking back and forth between the door and the phone in your hand to feign urgency.

Tony scoffs. “Now? It can’t wait?” He asks with clear annoyance in his tone.

You shake your head, walking backwards towards the door. “It can’t. It’s important. I have to take this.” You repeat, pretending to pick up the call while you tilt your head to pin the phone between your ear and shoulder. “Hello?” You ask absolutely no one as you slip out the door and into the hallway.

Bucky manages a solid two minutes of impatience, leaned forward in his seat and bouncing his leg while the team deliberates on if they should wait for you to return or continue without you, before he stretches, groaning dramatically.

“Well, seems like she’s gonna be a while.” He states, standing up and rolling his shoulders. “I’m gonna go take a leak.”

“The old man can’t hold his bladder?” Tony mocks, tipping back in his seat and kicking his feet up on the table. Steve rolls his eyes and shakes his head, walking over and shoving Tony’s feet back onto the floor. “Keep your feet off the table.” He grumbles, taking a seat in the empty chair next to him.

“I’m sorry, do you have a problem with me kicking my feet up on the table I paid for?” He asks sarcastically. Steve doesn’t reply, only mumbling under his breath as he leans forward on his elbows.

“We should get back to the meeting.” Bruce suggests, setting his tablet down and removing his glasses. “We still have a lot to cover.”

“We can wait, she’s probably finishing up her phone call by now and it doesn’t take but a minute for Bucky to run to the bathroom.” Steve responds, drumming his fingers against the table top.

Natasha stifles a laugh and Clint elbows her hard in the side. “Ow! Seriously?” She asks, turning to glare at him.

Steve raises his eyebrow. “What’s funny?”

Natasha shrugs. “I’m just thinking they’re both probably going to be gone for a while.”

Tony leans his head back, rolling his eyes and letting out a groan and Steve looks between him and Natasha before frowning. “No, they should be back any minute.” He says, his expression growing puzzled.

Natasha can’t hold back her laughter any longer and Clint slumps forward, dropping his forehead to rest on the table. “Captain clueless over here.” He mumbles against the wood.

“Okay, what am I missing?” Steve asks, growing frustrated.

“I’m pretty sure they’re fucking.” Natasha replies, struggling to keep a straight face at Steve’s naivety.

His eyes widen and he sits upright in his seat. “Language!” He stammers, looking at her in disbelief. “And that’s just- that’s definitely not-“

“It definitely is.” Clint interjects, lifting his head and tossing his arms up. “I mean, come on. It wasn’t even subtle.”

“What? No, she said she was taking a phone call and he said-“ Steve begins to argue but Natasha’s laughter causes him to trail off as he furrows his brows and crosses his arms.

“I got this.” Tony says, tilting his head up towards the ceiling. “J.A.R.V.I.S.?” He asks aloud.

“Yes Mr. Stark?”

“Can you do a sweep of our empty offices?”

“Just a moment.”

Tony gestures his hand vaguely as he looks at Steve with his eyebrows raised.

“Movement detected in conference room B.”

Tony smirks, giving Steve a smug expression before addressing J.A.R.V.I.S. again.

“Let me guess, Y/N and Barnes?”

“That would be correct, sir.”

A/N: Yeah, idk. This is just popped into my head and I needed to bring it to life. I typed it up in a whole five minutes so I apologize for any and all mistakes. 🫣

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@badbunnybabygirl01 @suz7days @truthfulliarr @lilacka @writtingrose @samsgoddess @loveisallyouneed1125 @vicmc624 @millercontracting @wildernessflora @mydorkyboys @blackhawkfanatic @honestlywork @ladyvenera @cavity-exe @ihavetwoholesforareason @km-ffluv @shortnloud @mrs-katelyn-barnes @somnorvos @22rhianna2006 @fanfictionreaderfan @misshale21 @angelbaby99 @deans-spinster-witch @kezibear @acornacreacure @wintrsoldrluvr @terry2227

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #bucky barnes drabble

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tremendouscreationperson · 10 months ago

Text

A few of you wanted a part three so here goes

Reader gets called Doll and Toots but other than that I think it's pretty GN

Part 1 Part 2

Ford - no Stan - had spun his tale. You weren't sure any of it could be possible. How was you supposed to believe that Ford was alive but not in this universe/realm/reality?

You sat in the lab he had brought you to - it was cold and dank, stark lights illuminated metal plates and cascaded up the walls to show off a large triangular 'portal'.

"Why'd you have to die?" You asked, eyes glued to the journal upon your knees.

For-Stan had been waiting for any questions, willing to provide you answers. "Seemed easier."

"And lying to me?" You flicked through the stained pages. "That was easy?"

"It wasn't." He told you honestly, just hearing his voice was crazy. You had believed he was dead for two years and he wasn't! He was here the whole time. "Gotta admit, I had you fooled."

The attempt at a joke was not humourous in the slightest. "This isn't normal behaviour."

Stanley didn't know what else to do. He hadn't thought you would ever realise, perhaps that was stupid on his part but he really thought he was able to coexist with you as Ford.

"So..." You took a deep breath. "Recap: this is Ford's journal and he wanted you to take it away and you both argued and he got sucked into that thing and now you're him and Stan is dead and you're trying to get him back?"

Stan nodded, twiddling his thumbs. "Yeah. It's been hard, I had to relearn math."

"Who else wrote in here?"

"Huh?"

You pointed at the page. "That's not Ford's handwriting. Although look, 'ford' signed it." A humourless chuckle escaped. "Who else is pretending to be your brother?"

Stan was at your side in an instant, looking over your shoulder. Being so close to him was maddening.

He was alive.

Your Stan was alive.

Yeah, maybe he was a fraud and there was weird space mumbo jumbo that you still don't entirely believe but he was alive.

Your face was turned towards him as he studied the page, his fingers grazing yours underneath the words. How did he look like him now?

You didn't see Ford in him at all.

The way he stood, his neutral expression, even his hair was different. Was Stanley.

"I didn't notice that." He spoke lowly due to the proximity.

"Is there anyone else in the town called Ford?"

Stan's gaze landed on you, his nose inches from yours and he opened his mouth to speak before closing it and just observing you. He really took you in.

Despite the lies you were still here. Still entertaining this. He really wished he had more to offer you but he didn't.

He was just him. He wasn't his brilliant brother or full of mysteries or answers. He was just Stan, a con artist who scammed people daily.

"I don't know." The words finally left his mouth and he quickly stood upright.

Rather than leaving tonight, you had stayed longer because of the news, calling in sick at work, how often could you say someone had come back from the dead?

The two of you ate half the pasta you made, sitting awkwardly opposite each other at the table.

He had been open and honest, answering all of your questions keenly and encouraging you to ask more. And you had to admit that was nice but the news still sat heavily on your shoulders.

Mostly because: FUCKING HELL THIS WAS CRAZY and a slither of: you had told FORD THAT YOU LOVED STANLEY AND BROUGHT HIM UP IN MANY CONVERSATIONS AND HE WAS THE ONE YOU WERE TALKING TO AND YOY WERE EMBARRASSED AS FUCK BUT YOU NEEDED TO HELP AND HDJAKSIEIES

"You, er.. you okay?" Stan toyed with a meatball.

"It's just a lot to process." That wasn't a lie. "I'll probably be like this for a few days."

He gave you a sincere smile, "take your time, do-"

Your eyes snapped up to his pink face. "Were you going to call me doll?" He nodded in affirmative, his ears reddening as well. You weren't sure why but you spared him with: "Hmm, better than toots."

"That was one time!" He insisted.

"That's all it took."

"I only said it to piss you off." He smirked cheekily, his face returning to its usual hue.

"It worked." Rolling your eyes as you giggled. You didn't hold any real malice, he was being cocky demonstrating his pick up moves and they did not work... Well they did but it was easier to pass off your hot face and wide eyes as anger rather than awe.

Stan laughed along with you, enjoying the sound. Loving how easy it was to just be himself. He didn't have to wear the gloves which made everything impossible, he didn't have to act stiff and drop big words into his 'lexicon', and he didn't have to lie. He could be himself.

He knows he doesn't deserve this, by God he knows that, but he would take all you'd willingly give; if that was just dinner before you drove away forever then he would take it and be thankful for the time.

"Want a beer?" He found himself asking.

You didn't reply straight away, ideas tumbling around your head. He loved watching your mind work. "Got anything stronger?"

Stan winked and disappeared to get the whiskey he'd stashed away.

And so the two of you found yourselves sitting on his 'balcony' (a little ledge, that you had to climb through a window to access, underneath the 'mystery shack' sign) forgoing glasses and passing the bottle between you.

"Must feel good to tell someone." Your words slurred as you laid on your spine, staring at the stars beyond the trees.

"It does." He took a sip. "Feel bad that it was you though."

You swivelled your neck to give him a confused face. He bellowed out a laugh. "Oit, don't laugh at me." Your socked toe jabbed his thigh.

Stan placed a hand over your foot, just holding it, forcing your hips to manoeuvre into a more comfortable position. You faced him as he watched the treeline. "Sorry to drag you into this."

"Sorry I didn't notice sooner." How didn't you? He was clearly Stan. There was nothing here that said Ford. "You're so obviously my Stan." You rolled your eyes and folded your arms in annoyance at yourself.

Stan's brows shot up and he turned to catch you grumbling at yourself. "Your Stan?"

Your eyebrows met and you scrunched your face in confusion again. "What?"

"You said 'my Stan'." His lips began to lift into the smuggest smirk as he leaned forward, entering your bubble. "I didn't realise I was your Stan."

"Shut up." You playfully pushed him away. "We're drunk, you don't know what you heard."

Stan didn't let up, instead he found your hand and intertwined your fingers. "I kinda like being someone's Stan." He spoke with a half shrug.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Was this a dream fueled by your longing and whiskey? "Well, you know how I feel because you were spying on me! Pretending to be Ford to hear what I had to say about you!"

"Hey, I told you Stan liked you too!" He defended.

"Do-" You paused. When did the two of you get so close? You were nose to nose. "Does Stan still feel that w-"

You weren't given a chance to finish the question because his lips were on yours. He kissed you slowly, one palm on your cheek as the other wound around your spine, pulling you in close. Your hands were pinned against his chest as you kissed him back enthusiastically.

Stan's slow kisses morphed into an intense make out session as he ran his tongue across your bottom lip and you gave him access. His hands exploring all over your body, squeezing and caressing your sides and chest causing your spine to curve.

The two of you were buzzing and the kiss was a little sloppy but it was perfect. You wouldn't want it any other way.

He finally allowed the two of you a breather, kissing his way down your neck, nipping and sucking the sensitive flesh. You squirmed again, back arching as a whispered moan tumbled from you.

That sobered him up, Stan raised his head from your neck, looking down at you and saw the needy look in your eyes. "Maybe we should wait 'til we're not blitzed."

The automatic frown you wore had him chuckling as you pulled his face back to yours, kissing him with as much vigour as you could muster.

Stan bit your bottom lip and his fingers settled on your thighs, how he managed to find himself in between them he didn't know but you pulled him closer with your legs and he had to pinch himself.

This was real.

All the shit he had done.

Every scam, every fraud, every crime, everything.

And you still looked at him with those eyes.

Fuck.

Maybe he loved you.

@aratheegreat @ngs991-2 @seahorrorz @misty-eyed-memory @50shadesofwinchesters @ryoiii @viceroywrites @atseoks @countlessimagines @aweleyirene @hesthermay @darlingdia1007 @piningforstan @emmygirl33 @imafangirlofeverything @daniel-meyer-03

I work in a DIY shop and this is what I had to look at for the majority of my shift 😂😭 he haunts me

#stan pines #stanley pines #stan pines x reader #stan pines x you #stanely pines #stanley pines x reader #stanley pines x you #gravity falls #grunkle stan

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bi-bard · 11 months ago

Text

On My Line, You’re Hooked, I’m Fishin’ - Scott Imagine [Twisters]

Title: On My Line, You’re Hooked, I’m Fishin’

Pairing: Scott [Twisters] X Reader

Word Count: 3,126 words

Warning(s): argument, grabbing someone's wrist

Summary: [Somewhat inspired by "Too Easy" by Tanner Adell] When a new company rolls into town during tornado season, Tyler's team is curious. Perfect uniforms, all looking ready for picture wasn't exactly the normal look for tornado chasing. (Y/n) volunteers to be the one to gather some much-needed intel, doing whatever they need to in order to get it.

Author's Note: I have about five Twisters imagines in my drafts right now.

Listen. I'm have something cute about this guy in my drafts, but he pissed me off in this movie, so I have to get that shit out first. It's part of my process.

----------------------

There was always a lot of energy during tornado season, but nothing beat the feelings on those first few days.

There was all this hope. This adrenaline going for something that hadn't even happened yet. A little while in, you would get an idea about how the season was going to go. The not-knowing before that was the best part. Endless possibilities and all that.

All that to explain that it felt normal for our team to be jumping off the walls like kids in a candy shop when we first all made it to Oklahoma.

Boone and Tyler were sorting out the truck. Dexter and Dani were making sure the trailer was stocked with merch and food for those who needed it. I hadn't been given a task, so I was left to pretty much my own devices. As a result, Lily was left working on her drone while I talked her ear off. She didn't seem to mind it.

I looked up over her head to see a group of white trucks and vans pulling up. Nice ones. Clean, new. I saw the logo slapped on the side.

"What in the hell is Storm Par," I asked.

"What?" Lily looked at me before immediately turning to the other vehicles. "No idea."

"Hey, Tyler!" I walked over to the truck.

"What's going on? Sugar high crashing?"

"Very funny," I replied before pointing to the white vehicles. "Who's Storm Par?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "No idea. Look like a big corporation."

A group of men started climbing out of the vehicles.

"Woah," he muttered.

"Proper science fair dudes," I commented. "Bet you twenty bucks that they have pocket protectors."

Tyler reached out and whacked my shoulder. "Be nice."

"Fine," I grumbled as he turned back to the truck.

I caught one of the men staring at me. He was tall and seemed to have a completely emotionless face. His clothes were neat, perfectly pressed. When he saw that I had noticed him, he had turned away from me, going to follow his team into the gas station.

"Want me to get intel?"

Tyler chuckled. "Intel? What year do you think it is? We can look them up tonight."

"Yeah, but I just caught one of their boys staring at me," I explained. "Let me do it; it'll kill two birds with one stone."

I heard Boone laugh from the other side of the truck. "I love the way you think!"

"Thanks, Boone."

"Alright, fine," Tyler relented. "But hurry up, we gotta get going."

"Thank you," I said. "Anyone want a drink?"

"Get me a Mountain Dew!" Boone called. I pointed at him and nodded.

"Be back in a minute!"

I walked back to the fridges along the back wall. I saw the man who had stared at me was now standing by the fridges.

I stood next to him. "Hey there."

He didn't respond, just staring straight ahead at the fridge. I had to hold in my laugh as I stepped forward to grab two Mountain Dews.

"Did Storm Par put a ban on talking to other tornado chasers," I asked. He didn't reply again. "Or are you just scared? Promise I don't bite."

"I'm not scared," he replied.

"Oh my goodness, he speaks." I placed a hand over my chest to pretend to be shocked. I chuckled at his clearly unimpressed expression before holding my hand out. "(Y/n)."

"Scott." he shook my hand before very quickly pulling it back.

"Nice to meet you, Scott," I said. "So, what exactly is Storm Par?"

"We track tornados so the data can be used for research."

"Real specific there," I chuckled at him. "What kind of research?"

He didn't respond.

"Oh, come on, I'm not gonna steal your ideas."

"I'm not worried about it."

"Are you worried that I won't understand it? I'm smarter than I look."

He let out an amused huff before grabbing a water and starting to walk to the checkout. I followed him.

"Maybe you could explain it to me later then," I suggested, hopping in front of him just before he got in line. I smiled at his blank look. "Tonight. There's a bar not too far from here, right next to a hotel that our crew's staying at; I'll buy you a drink."

I watched as his eyes scanned me for a moment. It looked like he was trying to figure out whether or not I was tricking him. I was almost hurt. I mean, I was tricking him, but not in the way that he was assuming.

I turned around to pay for my drinks, so I could step out of the way.

"Come on," I pushed before rattling off the name of the bar. "Meet me there tonight. One drink. If I'm that bad of company, then you can leave and I won't complain once. I'll even try to stay out of your hair during the chases."

Scott took a deep breath. "Fine."

"Yes," I cheered out of mostly fake excitement. "You won't regret this."

"I hope not."

I reached out and fiddled with a button on his white shirt. Far too perfect to be out there chasing storms. "Can't wait to see how well your perfect uniforms last out there."

I stepped back, not missing how his eyes followed my hand.

"See you later, Fancy Pants!" I waved as I started running back out to Tyler's truck.

"How'd it go," Tyler asked as I hopped into the passenger seat.

"Didn't get much," I admitted, handing Boone his drink before buckling up. "But I did get him to say yes to meeting me for a drink later."

"Atta kid!" Boone clapped his hand over my shoulder.

"I know, I know, a miracle worker," I replied. "Ready to get out there?"

"Absolutely," Tyler said.

The rest of the day went so much faster than it had any right to.

We saw Storm Par a lot. It took everything in me to not be a bit of a dick when we passed them. I did wave once when I spotted Scott in the passenger seat of one of the trucks. He nodded at me in an awkward greeting, which led to him getting a bit of a weird look from the man who was driving.

"What are you doing?" Tyler laughed as I relaxed back into my seat.

"Playing with the food," Boone answered before I could, causing me to laugh loudly.

"I was gonna say 'being friendly', but that's better," I said.

Maybe that was the excitement of it all messing with my head, but it felt like it took a matter of minutes before we found ourselves driving to the bar that I had told Scott to meet me at.

I walked in ahead of the group, trying to keep from laughing at the comments that Boone was shouting over my shoulder.

I saw some of the other guys from Storm Par at a table together. At the actual bar was Scott. He looked a bit tense, almost disheartened. I started to wonder just how long he had been there. Had I kept him waiting? Did he think that I stood him up? Was that the face of stubbornness just before calling the night a bust and going back to wherever he was staying?

I guess it didn't matter now. I couldn't back out.

"Fancy pants!" I called before walking over quickly. He seemed startled as I plopped onto the barstool next to him. "How was your day?"

"You should know, you were there for most of it," he replied.

"Was that a joke or are you just annoyed with me," I asked.

"Guess you'll have to figure it out." he shrugged. I saw a small grin form as he took a sip of his drink.

I let out a scoff. "Wow, Fancy Pants is bold now. A couple of sips is all it took?"

Scott rolled his eyes. The bartender walked over to us. I just asked for the same of whatever Scott had been drinking before focusing back on the conversation.

"The uniform held up well, I see." I pulled lightly at one of the white sleeves of his shirt. "Research must not be as hands-on as I thought it was."

"We do the same thing your crew does," he argued.

"With a bigger paycheck, I'm sure," I replied.

"Our work is a bit more important."

"And what work is that?"

"Why don't you tell me about yours first?" he smirked at me before taking another sip of his drink.

He thought it was clever. I could tell. Avoid my question by focusing the attention back on me. In any other situation, it would have screwed me out of the information that I needed.

But in this one... it was a mistake.

Here's the thing: I could talk. I could go on and on for hours about absolute nonsense. I could go from story to story without taking a breath.

And I did.

I told him about all the work that we had done to help people. About digging through the destroyed debris to try and find some pieces of people's lives. About making bundles of food. Then, I just started telling stories about every funny or weird moment that had happened since I had joined Tyler's crew.

The time that I burned served me well. Scott relaxed. Whether that was a result of his drink or simply because I was earning his trust was a mystery to me. I didn't bother focusing on which it was.

"Alright, alright," I said. "That's enough about what I do. Tell me about Storm Par."

"I told you; we collect data for future tornado research," Scott replied.

"Oh, come on." I rolled my eyes. "I mean, not to be rude, but I've seen your team. You're all a bit young to be jumping into research all on your own. And Storm Par doesn't sound like a company attached to a college."

"No, no, we're a private company," he explained. "We've had some luck finding a few really interested investors."

"Like...?"

"The biggest one is Marshall Riggs. He's a big-name real estate guy."

I couldn't quite put the pieces together at the time, but I felt a pit in my stomach. Unease that formed all too fast. "What would a real estate guy want with tornado research?"

"He's helping people," Scott's response felt like an attempt to twist an image that hadn't even been made yet. "He uses it to find people that have lost their homes and businesses and such and he buys them. It allows those people to move forward with their lives without having to wait for insurance to make a call on it."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Doesn't a disaster usually force the prices down for land?"

"I mean, it's lower than the normal price. It's not like he's buying this land up for five dollars and a pack of gum."

"What other aid does Storm Par offer them then, if they're getting rid of their homes and land?"

"Our investors focus funds on the research."

"So no?"

"So we're focused on the bigger picture. More long-term consequences."

I took the subtlest deep breath that I could. "I see."

I looked down at my watch.

"Oh, look at that, it's a lot later than I thought," I said, completely lying through my teeth. "We have to head out early in the morning."

I handed my card to the bartender, muttering for him to just cover both of our drinks.

"I can walk you out," Scott replied.

"Yeah, sure, okay," I mumbled, scribbling down a tip and putting my card away.

I followed Scott outside, letting him hold the door open. I wanted to seem less tense than I was. I was doubting how well it was working, but all I needed was for it to be good enough to get out of there without being questioned, so who really cares?

We made it outside. I was about to insist that we go our separate ways for the night, but he cut me off.

"You were right," Scott said. "Didn't regret that."

"Oh, good," I replied. I may have regretted it.

There was a long pause. Scott went to step closer to me. I almost scrambled back before he could, forcing out a chuckle.

"Well, I should go." I shrugged, continuing to walk backward before eventually turning around and just calling to him over my shoulder. "Have a good night. Stay safe. See you around, fancy pants!"

A few minutes later, I was knocking on Tyler's door like I was a landlord looking for late rent.

"(Y/n), what the hell are you doing," he asked as he yanked the door open. "You're gonna piss off somebody."

"I'm already a bit pissed, so maybe it'll do some good to share the suffering," I replied before shoving my way past him. "I have answers."

"About Storm Par?"

"No about what Scott likes to do on a nice summer day- Yes about Storm Par!"

"You are grumpy when it's late." he sat down on the edge of his bed.

"Shut up," I slapped his shoulder. "I found out about Storm Par's funding."

"Okay..."

"So, yes, they do research and track the storms and report that data back to their investors," I explained. "The problem is that their major investor is named Marshall Riggs, who has apparently made quite a name for himself in real estate."

"What would he want with it?"

"Well, he's going to the places impacted by the storms and buying up land from people who lose their homes and businesses and stuff. He's apparently spinning some story that he's allowing people to move forward with their lives, but come on, he's just using this information to get his hands on cheap land."

"Do you know what he's doing with the land?"

"I didn't ask."

"Okay..."

"Storm Par is giving this man power to do some real harm here."

"I know, I know."

"So, what are we gonna do," I asked, looking at Tyler again.

"I... I don't know," he replied, running his hand over his face.

"We can't just let him keep doing this!"

"(Y/n)," he sighed. "I don't even know if this guy is doing something that's technically illegal-"

"It's still wrong!" I snapped at him.

"I know!"

I froze.

"But whatever we do won't stop him. He'll keep preying on desperate people and whatever we say won't change what impact he might have on them. They're desperate, they think they're alone."

"So we just do nothing?"

"No." Tyler shook his head. "What we can do is continue helping people."

I nodded. "I just... I feel like there's just so much more that we could do."

"In a perfect world, we would be able to speak out and it would stop him." he shrugged. "It would make him give up and walk off with his tail between his legs. But we can't. We just have to do what we can."

I took a deep breath. Tyler pulled me into a hug.

"We're doing good work. And we'll only earn more outreach. We'll continue to do better."

I stepped back. "I'm still going to be an asshole tomorrow."

"Just don't end up dead or in jail."

"I'll do my best," I shrugged before going to walk out. "Good night!"

"Night!" he called out after me.

I was hoping that the next morning would have been mostly calm. That we would get out into the field before Storm Par or vice versa. Something to keep me from having to face Scott for just a few more hours.

I was walking back to the truck after picking up some breakfast. I was occupied with my own thoughts. I was still upset. I was still fighting the urge to go scream from the rooftops about Marshall Riggs and the bullshit he was doing.

"(Y/n)!"

I considered sprinting to the truck when I heard Scott say my name. I just wasn't feeling mean enough to do that... yet.

"Scott," I said as I turned around. "How are ya?"

"Good, good, what about you?"

"I'm fine, just busy," I replied, going to step away. "Heading out early and all."

Scott stepped forward. "I was hoping to ask if you wanted to meet again tonight. Maybe dinner instead of a drink."

"I... I don't think that'd be a good idea."

His face fell. "Oh... why?"

"I just don't think we clicked like I thought we would." the goal was to maintain the peace until the end of the season. "But hey, we tried it, that's what matters. I'll... I'll see you out there."

"Did I... Did I do something wrong?"

"Nope, you were just fine. Just didn't work."

I turned to walk away but was stopped when Scott grabbed my wrist. "I don't believe that."

I yanked my arm from him. "Don't ever fucking grab me again."

"I just want the truth."

"I told you the truth." I turned away again.

I was grabbed again. "Just wait-"

I pulled my arm away and shoved him backward. "I fucking warned you to not grab me like that again."

He seemed to still be reeling from the fact that I shoved him.

"You want the truth? Fine," I shrugged. "I find your company and what it stands for to be completely despicable. I think it's disgusting that y'all would accept money to help a man take advantage of innocent people. I think it's disgusting that you don't seem to give a damn about it. If I could tear your company down, I would, but in reality, my words would never stop you or your damn investors. And I hope that one day you wake up, look in the mirror, and feel the crushing pain of all those that you helped that man manipulate."

Scott stepped forward, a response clearly ready, but he looked over my shoulder and froze.

"(Y/n), you good?" I heard Tyler's voice call over to me.

"Yeah," I yelled over my shoulder. "Just having a quick chat!"

I stepped away again, walking as quickly as I could to make it over to him and the rest of the crew.

"Didn't end up in jail," I offered, trying to look at the bright side.

"I almost did," he muttered. "Get in the truck."

I did a little salute to him before going around to the passenger seat. I saw Tyler stare down Scott for a few more seconds before hopping in the driver's seat.

Maybe there was some argument to be made about the benefits of killing someone with kindness. But that just wasn't how I operated. And I think I'm better off that way.

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saturnn127 · 1 month ago

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couldn’t make it any harder | LJN smau

pt. 18: broke sugar daddy wc: 2.3k, not proofread see masterlist for warnings and details :)

“can i be the first to say i told you so?” johnny tossed his head over his shoulder to give her a smug look, and yn’s eyes dropped into a glare. “no, you aren’t the first," her voice dropped a few octaves, "don’t know which i should be more mad about." she moved to lean into the counter behind her while crossing her arms. “well i was probably the first to catch on. c’mon, i basically raised you and jae, my intuition goes crazy when it comes to you both,” he added, giving her another quick look before going back to shuffling through some files.

“whatever. just don’t tell anyone else, especially not yuno. that’s a whole other problem that i don’t want to deal with.” the shorter girl cringed as she thought about the hellish reaction she’d be faced with if her brother found out. “i won’t, but only because i don’t feel like dealing with that either,” johnny replied before moving to plop down in a chair. “he’d probably die of a heart attack.”

yn groaned and tossed her head back with her eyes shut. “fuck do i hope these feelings go away soon. i can’t even function properly anymore, it’s all i think about.” johnny peered at her with a raised brow, “the crush? or him?” his voice came out sing-song like, and the stance of his brows changed into a wiggle. she dropped her head back down with her piercing glare set on her older friend, “i will skin you alive, don’t test me suh.”

the muscular male simply grinned before slapping the file on his desk. “i’m sure you will. anyways, i gotta take this to the back. mind manning the front for me?” yn raised her hand in a wave of dismissal, moving to lift herself on to the large counter. “while i normally don’t work for free, i’m also quite charitable to the needy.” johnny just laughed his usual way, head tossed back and smile lines gracing his features. he gave her one last ‘sure, okay’ before spinning to make way for the office located on the opposite end of the building.

the gym was slowly beginning to empty as it reached later into the afternoon. the usual 7 pm rush having passed as the sun was now almost setting completely. yn had stopped by to inform (complain) and discuss (vent) the latest development in her love life to johnny as soon as her last class let out, and had been hanging around while the male worked. it was normal for her to do so, and john’s uncle had even joked about hiring her part time.

minutes passed, and the girl was beginning to grow bored while waiting for johnny to come back. every pen and trinket had been picked up and examined by her, and her phone was dryer than her attitude. the only notifications she had were from pinterest and tiktok, no doubt ten spamming her with whatever dumbassery he found funny enough to terrorize her with.

just as she was about to get up and go look for johnny herself, yn heard the barely audible buzz and lock mechanism of the gym entrance. the huff that left the man who was now entering the space was recognizable; yn didn’t know whether she should be impressed at her ability or ashamed. “oh, yn? you work here?” voiced the exhausted -and absolutely drenched with sweat- lee jeno.

yn almost didn’t catch his words, too preoccupied with trying to not be obvious in the way she was admiring the sight of him in such a state. “if you mean taking over for a friend while he takes his sweet ass time elsewhere, then yes. but not formally,” she replied sarcastically, pretending her ogling of him was a signature up-and-down look of hers. jeno, having seen that expression on her face multiple times before, was none the wiser. he simply smiled and invited himself closer to her.

“johnny, right?” the question was simple, but the slight dig behind it made yn know he wanted her to tell him more. “yeah. his uncle owns the gym, so johnny’s been working management since he graduated. i offer free labor in exchange of distracting his employees.” yn smirked at the boy in front of her, feigning her usual confidence as johnnys voice rang in her ears (“fake it ‘til you make it”)

jeno hummed, his lips pressing together in the smile that usually graces them. “cool.” he held eye contact with her the entire approach, and yn had to swallow down her composure. the silence remained once he set down his gym bag on the tiles beside her feet, and he leaned forward to rest his elbows against the half circle desk she was perched on. she adjusted her position to be able to comfortably view him, and tilted her head at him.

the silence lingered between them uncomfortably, at least for yn. jeno seemed perfectly content just looking at her with those stupid doe eyes of his. it seems that now some sort of “friendship” (if you would call wtv they have that) had been established between them, he was perfectly comfortable ogling her right in front of her. yn, however, was less than comfortable. in fact, she was beginning to go insane. “so, do you usually work out here? or did you “just happen be here?”

jeno, who apparently found everything she said funny, laughed before responding. “i’ve been a frequent since the gym on campus was taken over by the athletic department. apparently it’s blasphemy to work out at the same time as them.” he sighed, his head drooping down in a way that was oddly reminiscent of a pouting puppy. “which is bs, since i was working out there long before they were.” he added, using his eyebrows to show his annoyance.

“that’s fucked. can’t you complain or some shit?” he immediately scoffed, and yn realized it was the first time she’d seen that much emotion from him. he was usually playing out the same love struck expression that could rival one from a kid’s movie. fuck, why does her chest hurt now? “yn?”

yn looked up at the sound of her name and met jeno’s puzzled gaze. “huh?” she asked, then realized that he had been talking while she was too busy staring at his stupid (-ly cute) face. before jeno could think too much into it, though, the man of the hour decided to finally reappear. “oh hey, it’s jeno, right?” johnny asked, pointing at him in the typical johnny way and with a weird expression that yn couldn’t recognize.

“uh, yeah. and you’re johnny.” jeno chuckled, though the slight fear in his voice was obvious (alongside the slightly confused and very nervous expression he was wearing). “the one and only. nice to meet you, man.” johnny stuck his hand out towards jeno, who took longer than a few seconds to take it. “oh yeah, you too.” the younger male replied once he recovered from whatever emotions he was having. yn’s eyes darted between the two in their awkward exchange, giving a heavy side eye to johnny.

‘we’re so talking about that later’ she silently communicated to him, and the smirk he displayed told yn that her message was received. “anyways, i’m gonna bounce. you can take that chipotle and shove it up your fat ass,” yn said as she scooted off the counter. “omg, you think my ass is fat?” johnny pretended to gush at her comment, making a show of turning to look back at his ass.

“the only thing fat about you is that damn ego of yours, now fuck off.” yn leaned over to pick her bag up from the floor and hung it off her shoulder. “you love me.” johnny leaned over the counter to pretend to swoon, and yn raised her hand to push his face away. “i would sign you into a mental institution, but i fear they wouldn’t know what to do with you,” yn glared at her friend, but johnny simply smiled wider.

“i’m just that special. text me when you get home, and don’t forget to take jae off your priv before you slip up,” johnny chided, lazily waving his fingers as she rounded the corner of the desk. “yeah, whatever,” came her response, and she set her eyes on jeno, who was gathering his own things. “i gotta get going, too. i’ll walk you out?” he said, though it came off more as a question than a statement.

“is it walking me out if you are also leaving?” she teased, but raised her finger in a ‘come hither’ motion. jeno took the question seriously, and struggled to come up with an answer. at his silence, yn turned and just about melted at the puzzled expression he had on. “i was joking, jeno,” she clarified, and couldn’t help the slight smile that threatened her lips.

“oh.” his mouth formed a ‘o’ shape, and he simply smiled back before swerving around her to open the door. “i got it,” he assured her, and followed behind once she passed. “are you always this nice, or do i get special treatment?” yn glanced over at him, and he just shrugged while pretending to think about it.

“both?” he offered, and the girl hummed in response. she wanted to keep the conversation rolling, but couldn’t seem to find anything else to say. everything she came up with just felt weird, like it wasn’t something she would actually say. ‘jesus, having a crush sucks.’ she thought, moving her gaze down to her feet.

“did you walk here?” jeno’s voice cut through the silence, and yn was brought out of her thoughts by his abrupt stop. “huh? oh, yeah i did,” she responded, turning to look at him. “you?” “nah, i drove.” yn hummed in response, her eyes moving to dart between the street ahead of them and the parking lot to the right. “well, i-“ she started, but jeno had also spoken at the same time. “would-“

he trailed off as the two met in a tangle of syllables, a shy blush growing on his pale skin. “sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, a hand coming up to rub at his neck. “no, it’s okay. what were you saying?” yn asked, trying to ignore just how pretty he looked when he flushed. ‘seriously, how an i just now noticing him?’

“i was going to ask if you would want a ride back,” he started, and he studied her face for any hostility, “so you won’t have to walk back by yourself.” “oh, it’s not that long of a walk, to be honest. i wouldn’t want to be a bother.” yn tried to ignore her mind screaming at her to shut the fuck up and take the opportunity to spend more time with jeno, because who would want to do that? definitely not yn. yup, totally not.

“you could never be a bother, plus, we’re both going to the same place basically.” jeno looked at her like she personally offended his entire bloodline for even considering that she could bother him, and he wanted nothing more than to erase those thoughts from her mind. after all, he’d do anything for her, no matter how absurd the task may be.

yn wanted to find an excuse to say no. being trapped in a car with the guy she’s crushing on who also happens to have been crushing on her for their entire uni career? yeah that sounds like the last place she wanted to be. except it wasn’t. she actually really wanted to say yes, but the anxiety that was flooding her stomach reminded her why it was a bad idea.

“i don’t know,” she trailed off, her nails beginning to pick at the skin around her fingers. jeno’s face held a mix of concern and nervousness of his own. he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but he also really wanted to convince her. he knew she had a hard time opening up to people, especially men, but did she think he was going to harm her?

“if it makes you uncomfortable i understand,” he added, taking a step back to increase the space between them. yn’s wandering eyes snapped to his, and jeno was taken aback by the intensity behind them. “you don’t make me uncomfortable, jeno.” her voice came out harsher than intended, and yn only realized that after she saw the slight flinch the boy gave. “i don’t?” he asked, and yn shook her head.

he was a little confused. ‘if she’s not uncomfortable then…’ realization flashed across jeno’s face, and he quickly gathered himself. “well, let me drive you home then. i promise i’m a safe driver,” jeno smiled at her, and yn couldn’t help but give him a smile of her own. she couldn’t help it, his determined face was just too cute.

“okay fine, but only because you look way to excited about it. i might be a bitch, but i’m not the type to steal candy from kids.” yn began to walk in the direction of the parking lot, not wanting to show any signs of weakness towards the wide grin she received. jeno was over the moon, basically in another dimension where everything was sunshine and rainbows. he watched her trailing figure with a dopey lovesick expression, gladly accepting the newest development in their little… idk, whatever they have going on.

“do you even know where you’re going?” he called after her, moving to catch up to her once he snapped out of his trance. “…no, but that won’t stop me from figuring it out somehow,” yn yelled back stubbornly, and jeno giggled to himself. where others saw her intimidating front, he saw right through it. seeing her like that was exactly what kept him falling deeper.

“you passed it a few rows ago, by the way.” “and you’re barely telling me that now?” “oops?”

tracklist prev ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10 next

a/n: …guess who’s back. me 🤩 i’m so sorry for disappearing on you guys, it wasn’t intentional i promise 😞 i was finishing up the semester and those finals were kicking my ass. also, don’t procrastinate like i did a do an entire semesters worth of work in one week… idk how i did it. but i got straight a’s, so who’s really winning 🤪 also i’m going to note it here that updates may be getting a little slower. i’m doing a summer internship, aka a big girl job, and i won’t be as free as before. but i’m trying guys dw. i also have another smau in the making, but i plan to finish this one first before posting anything. ty guys for the support, even if i don’t deserve it for ghosting 🩷🩷🩷

taglist! comment and ill add you to it <3: @kukkurookkoo @nosungluv @hoeingthefuckup @dilflover44 @alwayswonbinning @jaellymint @n0hyuck @mwrsi @awktwurtle @haechology @tyongspice1 @t-102 @lvsdoyo @jae-n0 @ne0sgotmyback @neozon3nha (if i couldn’t tag, i’m sorry 😞)

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puck-luck · 3 days ago

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request from @yauchfilms.... cappuccino with cold foam for SJ24: "can you include the phrase "kitty tickler" at least once?"

hell yes i can brother🦅

You’re perched on the bed in nothing but a towel, watching Seth take a razor to his face. The boys recently got knocked out of the playoffs and Seth finally grew tired of his playoff beard this morning when cereal dripped into it for what he swore would be the last time.

You’re mourning the scruffy, bushy, dark hair and you won’t pretend you aren’t. Every time Seth looks over and sees you pouting, he starts to giggle and walks over to plant a kiss on your lips. He turns to you a lot, your presence distracting him from his routine. Usually he shaves after practice, when you’re already at work. He must have really hated the beard, since he’s thrown his whole routine out of whack just to get rid of it.

“Babe, check it out,” Seth says, rinsing his razor and shaking it out before wiping extra shaving cream from his chin. He smiles wide, showing off his crooked teeth. His eyes crinkle and he models both sides of his face for you. “Mutton chops!”

You laugh, rolling your eyes fondly at Seth’s new look. “Are you going to keep that?”

“Aww, you don’t like it,” Seth groans, wandering over to you and pawing at your towel.

You laugh louder, clutching your towel to prevent him from revealing your body. “It would take a lot of getting used to.”

Seth grins and pecks your lips before pulling back and walking back to the bathroom. “I would’ve killed in Wolverine.”

You choke on your spit, coughing. “You want to be Wolverine?”

“Dude, I would make a career out of real-life Fruit Ninja if I had claws like him,” Seth says. “The mutton chops are just a perk.”

“Get rid of them, Seth. It’s not your look, babe.”

He whines, slumping his shoulders and frowning at you. It’s all an act, which you know, so you stare at him with a raised brow and a knowing smile. Seth breaks first, picking up his razor and lifting it to his face. He shaves the sides away, leaving a handlebar mustache on his face.

Seth turns to you again, lifting his arms and flexing. “Hulk Hogan?” he asks.

“Raging racist,” you reply with a sad nod. “It’s always the icons that end up evil.”

“Can’t be a king without war crimes,” Seth sighs, feigning sadness. You know he’s pretending because of how quickly he raises the razor and shaves the legs of his mustache away. He leaves his normal stache intact, placing the razor on the sink and rinsing his face to get rid of any lingering pieces of hair. He then joins you on the bed, covering you with his body.

You fit your thumb in the divot of his chin, feeling the smooth skin that is rarely bare. Seth is a goatee guy, which you like, but his stache is your favorite type of facial hair.

“Kept the kitty tickler for my girl,” Seth tells you, his clumsy fingers going through your hair like a wide-toothed comb.

“The kitty tickler?” you demand, jaw dropping incredulously. “What?”

“Yeah,” Seth says, brushing your shock off. He brushes his thumb and index finger over his mustache, going from the middle to the ends. “You know…” He taps your mound over the towel, then wiggles his fingers, sticking his tongue out flat before speaking. “Kitty… tickler.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” you chortle, smiling widely.

Seth takes offense, drawing his eyebrows together. “I’m not,” he whines. He tugs at your towel. “Do you need me to remind you?”

“I think I do, actually,” you say. “I’m really intrigued by this terminology.”

“Baby,” Seth scoffs with a frown. He slides off the bed and adjusts you so you’re laying flat, knees bent over the edge of the mattress. “The kitty tickler’s a machine. It’s not just a name. Don’t belittle it like that.”

“Oh, my bad,” you reply sarcastically. “I wouldn’t want to offend the operator of the machine.”

“Well, it’s too late now,” Seth says. “Now I’ve gotta show you how the kitty tickler navigates the bush.”

“Oh my God, fuck off,” you reproach, kicking Seth’s shoulder.

Seth giggles to himself and palms your thighs, spreading them apart. “Gonna show you how I mow,” Seth adds before disappearing tongue-first beneath your towel, his enthusiasm and vigor changing your mindset from incredulous to pleasure-ridden.

#1 year of puck-luck!#andy writes anything🍄#seth jarvis #seth jarvis x reader #seth jarvis fanfiction #seth jarvis smut #seth jarvis blurb #seth jarvis imagine #sj24 #sj blurb #sj24 x reader #nhl smut #nhl x reader

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boopiemadz · 2 months ago

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Travis Martinez x fem reader post rescue that broke up in the wilderness and then reunite after and move onto a farm together and they get really soft with eachother like he’s cooking breakfast and she comes up behind him like resting her head on his back still disheveled from sleep. Idkk I hope this makes some sense lol also I love those social media posts you needddd to do more Travis x reader dating ones!!!<33

yesss I love domestic Travis sm. I spent way to long making backstory for this... so half of this is just set up that doesnt affect the last part whatsoever mb. so sorry if the pivot from kinda angsty breakup/ reunion to domestic fluff is sudden lol. anyways enjoy :)

[A quiet life]

Travis x !Fem reader

---

You crouched by the base of a tree, sifting through the scattered bits of wood Travis had gathered. The sticks felt damp in your hands, bending and twisting when you tried to snap them. “These won’t catch,”

“They’re dry enough,” he said with a shrug, brushing dirt off his hands. “Dry enough doesn’t mean dry. You need kindling that snaps clean. Otherwise, you can’t get a fire going.” He didn’t argue. Instead, he let out a breath and muttered, “Fine. I’ll go look for better ones.” And without waiting, he disappeared a few steps deeper into the forest. “Feels like nothing’s been going right lately.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, He shrugged, “Nothing.” But the weight behind the word made it feel like everything.

You turned to look at him, the tiredness in his eyes catching you off guard. You changed the subject, trying to keep things normal, well as normal as it gets, you two hadn't really been 'talking' much lately. Mostly just sitting with each other in silence pretending everything is understood, but really it's not. “You holding up okay?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly. You didn’t believe him. You knew him too well. “You don’t sound fine.” He frowned, biting the inside of his cheek. “It’s nothing.”

“Travis...” you began, your voice softer now. “I can’t keep guessing. If something’s wrong, you gotta tell me. I can’t read your mind.” He looked away, jaw clenched. “It’s not that simple.” You sighed, frustration bubbling up. “No, no it’s not. But I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one trying to make this work.”

He took a step closer, dropping the sticks he had just picked up, “You don’t get it. Sometimes, being around you... it reminds me of things I don’t want to remember.” You blinked, hurt flickering. Your heart tightened. “How am I supposed to help if you keep shutting me out?” You stepped closer feeling an uncomfortable sinking feeling boil up into your throat. “I’m not going anywhere.”

But the distance didn’t shrink as you stepped closer. Instead, it grew wider.

You paused, standing in that feeling, just looking into the eyes of a boy you once knew, now faded and worn, rusted like an old swing set. “Maybe we’re both too riddled with scars to keep this up,” you said finally, voice trembling.

He swallowed hard, the truth of your words sinking in. “Maybe.”

For a long moment, you both stood there in silence. The forest around you felt still, like it was holding its breath.

Then, without warning, Travis’s hand wrapped one of his arms around your waist gently, grounding you. He leaned down and kissed you, soft and familiar. You closed your eyes, letting the connection hold you together, if only for a moment. When you pulled away, your breath was shaky. “I don’t want to lose this, us, you.” he whispered.

“Me neither,” you said, your voice breaking. But the weight in your chest wouldn’t let you pretend anymore. “But maybe that love isn’t enough.”

His shoulders sagged with the burden. “I love you,” he said quietly. You shook your head slowly, tears pricking your eyes. “I love you too.”

You stepped back, the space between you growing heavy, but the haze lifted with the confession. No shouting. No anger. Just two people who loved each other enough to let go. The kindling lay forgotten at your feet as he walked away running his hand through his hair.

---

It’d been almost a year since the rescue. New Jersey felt familiar but strange, like a place you used to know, but everything had shifted underfoot. Twelve full months of hospitals, media silence, therapy sessions, long showers that never felt long enough. A year of pretending to be okay in public and unlearning how to brace for survival in private. You and Travis had both tried to find your footing, living separate lives but never quite letting go.

You’d called a few times over the months, short conversations that danced around old wounds and light memories. One cool spring afternoon, you found yourself walking through a quiet park near your apartment. The phone buzzed in your hand. You saw his name and your heart stuttered.

“Hey,” you answered, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Hey,” he said, quieter than you remembered. You talked about small things, work, the weather, the new coffee place that opened down the street. It was easy and awkward all at once. Then silence stretched between you, and you finally asked, “How are you, really?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m... better, I guess. Some days still hit harder than others.” You nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Same here.”

Over the next few months, the calls grew longer, more honest. You shared stories about the little things, new routines, bad days, music you’d discovered. And slowly, those phone calls led to texts, and then a tentative plan to meet.

---

Travis was sitting at the back of the small café, near the window, his knee bouncing under the table. He looked... older. Not in the way time ages someone, but in the way pain does. A little more shallow around the eyes. A little heavier in the shoulders. But still Travis.

You stepped in, the bell above the door giving a faint chime. The place smelled like espresso, and for a second, it all felt too normal. You gave a quiet nod, stepping over to the table. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he echoed, voice low. You sat down, shedding your damp jacket and trying to shake off the nerves. He was already halfway through his drink. You ordered tea. Chai. “Been a while,” you said after a beat.

He nodded. “Yeah. Guess I thought... might be good. To see each other. In person.”

“You texted me at like 1 a.m.” You say with a chuckle.

“Didn’t think you’d say yes.”

“I didn’t think you’d ask.”

A breath of silence. The city buzzed faintly outside, the storm creeping in. Thunder murmured in the distance. You glanced out the window. “Remember that time out there when Coach made you and Nat dig that shit-pit or makeshift outhouse or whatever, and you fell in?”

Travis exhaled a half-laugh, shaking his head. “It wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny.” He gave you a look. “My ankle was swollen for a week!”

“And you still refused to let anyone help you walk back.” Travis muttered, “Didn’t want to look pathetic.”

“You didn’t.” You looked at him. “You just looked like someone who didn’t want to be seen hurting.” He paused. The air between you shifted slightly. “That night,” he said after a moment. “After that happened... you sat with me. By the fire.”

“I remember.”

“You didn’t say anything. Just... stayed.”

“That’s what you needed.”

Another silence. But not uncomfortable. He looked out the window again, watching the rain tap against the glass.

“Hard to believe that was... real,” he said. “Feels like a different world.”

You nodded. “I think about it a lot. In pieces.” He glanced at you. “You still have those dreams?” You hesitated. “Not every night. But yeah.” He nodded slowly, like he understood. Because of course he did. Your tea arrived, steam curling from the mug. You wrapped your hands around it, needing something to hold.

“I don’t know how to be around people sometimes,” you said quietly. “Like I’m pretending to be someone who knows how to live.”

Travis didn’t say anything right away. Then: “I get that. “Is that why you didn’t call for so long?”

Your jaw tensed, “I wanted to. I just... didn’t know what I’d say.”

“You didn’t have to say anything.”

Another long pause. Rain began to fall harder now, you checked your phone. “Shit. I didn’t realize how late it got. I walked here. Didn’t expect the sky to open up on me.”

---

“My car’s like four blocks away.” You say almost yelling over the sound of rain standing under the small awning outside the cafe. He glanced at you, expression unreadable for a second. “You’ll be soaked.” You gave a little shrug. “It’s just rain.”

“My place is closer,” he said. Then, quickly, “Not saying you have to come over. Just… It's like two blocks that way. You could dry off, warm up before heading out.”

You hesitated, but you saw no pressure in his face. Just the quiet offer of comfort. And maybe something else unspoken. “Okay,” you said softly. “Thanks.”

The rain was coming down in waves now. The wind tugged at your clothes, and you could already feel water soaking into your socks. Travis started walking fast, half-jogging. You followed, trying not to splash too hard in the puddles.

After a minute, you laughed, sharp and surprised. “You said two blocks!”

“It is!” he called over his shoulder.

“Feels like six!”

“That’s just ‘cause you walk slow!”

You let out another laugh, breath catching in your chest. You were dripping. Your hair was sticking to your forehead, your coat had given up, and your jeans were clinging to your legs. And still, you smiled. Because something about this, about the chaos of it, was ridiculous. That's when the two of you took off, running as if to prove something, like little kids chasing a daydream.

You passed under a flickering street lamp, light bouncing off the water on Travis’s face. He glanced back, and you saw it: the ghost of a smile. One that reminded you of a thousand moments you thought you’d buried.

But it didn’t last.

Your breath caught as the slap of your soaked shoes on the pavement triggered something deep in your chest. The wind. The cold air stinging your face. The feeling of running, fast and desperate, heart pounding, breath burning in your throat.

The woods. The nights you ran, not just ran, but fled. Fled from the terror of the nights spent hungry. The running and chanting, howling into the dark. The hunt. It all came rushing back in the sound of your footsteps. You slowed. You didn’t mean to.

Travis noticed a second later, turning around. “Hey?” You shook your head. He didn’t ask. He didn’t need to. He nodded, falling into step beside you instead of ahead.

You walked the rest of the way in silence.

---

By the time you reached his building, you were shivering. He unlocked the door and held it open without a word, letting you step into the warmth of the small lobby. The elevator clunked slowly up to the third floor. His apartment was just what you expected, small, a little sparse, but neat. You stood awkwardly near the door, dripping on the mat.

“You’re dripping,” he said, already heading to the bedroom. “Hang on.”

He came back with a t-shirt and sweatpants, both oversized and clearly well-worn. “Bathroom’s right there. Towels under the sink.” You hesitated. “Thanks.”

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. In the bathroom, you peeled off your wet clothes slowly, shivering as the cold air hit your skin. It was soft and warm. It smelled like detergent and something else, something uniquely him. You tugged the sweatpants on, rolling the waistband a few times to keep them from sliding down.

Back in the living room, you found him on the couch, changed into dry clothes himself. You hesitated in the doorway. He looked up. And stopped.

“I look ridiculous,” you said, half-smiling. “You don’t,” he said, voice quieter than you expected.

You hugged your knees loosely to your chest as you went to sit down on the floor leaning against the couch. “You remember that time back at the lake? Back in the summer, when Tai dared you to do that dumb backflip and you fell face-first into the mud?”

Travis blinked, surprised by the memory.

You laughed a little. “You were so mad at her, but also at yourself. Then you tried to act like it didn’t hurt.” He smiled. A real one. “It hurt like hell.”

“I know. You told me later that night. After everyone went to sleep.” He looked at you. Really looked. “I missed that,” he said. “Talking to you. Just… like that.”

Your throat tightened. “Me too.”

You didn’t know how long the silence stretched between you. Only that eventually, you felt his fingers graze yours. Not grabbing, just a touch. Barely there. You turned your hand over, letting your palm meet his. It was warm.

You looked at him. And that was enough. He leaned in slowly. You met him halfway. The kiss wasn’t desperate, it was soft. Familiar. Like putting on a song you used to love and remembering every word. When you finally pulled back, you kept your forehead against his.

“Does this mean something?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But it doesn’t mean nothing.”

You sat there, holding hands, the rain still whispering against the window. And for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like pretending. It just felt like beginning again.

---

You wake up slow these days. Not because of exhaustion, but because you can.

The sun has already started to peek through the white curtains by the time your eyes blink open. Your cheek is pressed into the familiar cotton of Travis’s pillow, still holding the warmth of where he slept beside you, even though he’s already gone. Somewhere in the house, you can hear the faint clink of dishes and the low hum of music coming from the old kitchen radio. Fleetwood Mac, maybe. Something from that worn-down CD player Travis insisted still worked perfectly.

You smile sleepily and stretch, the soft quilt sliding down your arms. You’re in one of his long-sleeved shirts, oversized, frayed at the sleeves. Padding barefoot down the hallway, the creaky wood floor familiar beneath your feet.

You find him in the kitchen, barefoot in plaid pajama pants and a thermal tee with the sleeves pushed up. His hair is a little messy, a towel tossed over one shoulder. He’s standing by the stove, focused, one hand flipping pancakes while the other stirs a pot of something on the back burner.

“Hi,” you say, soft and a little groggy.

He turns, startled only for a second before a smile curls across his face. That sleepy Travis kind of smile. Half-curled, half-hidden.

“Hey. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You shake your head as you cross the kitchen to him. “Smelled too good not to come find you.”

You wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder like you’ve done a hundred mornings before. His body is warm, solid. Familiar. Home.

You stay like that for a few moments, your chest pressed to his back, the kitchen humming with warmth. It’s a rhythm now. It’s not something you’re holding onto out of fear. It’s just living. He flicks a little piece of scrambled egg onto your plate and sets the pan down with a soft clang. “Breakfast is ready.”

You pull away slowly and move toward the table, you sit down with a tired but content smile, watching him gather plates and cups. He pulls out your chair for you, a small, thoughtful gesture, and sits across from you. You begin to eat, savoring the simple food and the calm between you. It’s not flashy or loud, but it’s yours.

“Remember the first week after we got here?” you ask, voice light, eyes twinkling. “When you tried to fix the fence and ended up covered in mud?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I swear, that fence was out to get me.”

“You looked ridiculous,” you tease, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “I couldn’t decide if I should help or just take a picture.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You took the picture.”

There’s a peaceful pause, then he clears his throat and says quietly, “I like this. Us, here. Like this.”

You nod. “Me too.”

A quiet moment passes, filled only by the gentle sounds of morning, the wind whispering through the trees, birds calling, the soft thud of hooves on the barn floor. You swallow hard and add softly, “Sometimes I still can’t believe it, you know? After everything… this little farm. It feels like a miracle.”

He reaches out, brushing your fingers with his thumb. You squeeze his hand before letting go, your stomach fluttering with a mix of nerves and peace.

After breakfast, Travis stands and begins clearing the table. You watch him move around the room with a quiet ease. He pauses near the doorway, turning back to you. “I’m gonna feed the animals. You want to come?”

You shake your head, “I’m good here.”

He nods and starts toward the door, then stops and looks back over his shoulder. Without a word, he crosses the room quickly, wrapping his arms around you from behind. You close your eyes as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. His breath is warm against your hair, grounding you in a way nothing else has.

“Love you,” he murmurs.

You rest your cheek against his hand, whispering back, “Love you too.”

Then he slips out the door, leaving the quiet stillness of the kitchen behind him. You watch the back of his head disappear down the path toward the barn, feeling the slow, steady calm of this place settle around you like a second skin.

---

You had been standing at the kitchen table, brush in hand, completely absorbed in the canvas in front of you. The afternoon sun poured through the window, casting a soft golden light that warms your skin, you carefully layered shades of blue and green, trying to capture the way the light hit the fields just beyond the farmhouse.

But paint had a funny way of getting everywhere. You glanced down at your fingers and noticed smudges on your skin. Then you realized you’d accidentally brushed your cheek with a streak of paint. You laughed quietly to yourself, it wasn’t the first time you’d ended up with more paint on you than the art you were making.

From the doorway, Travis had leaned casually against the frame, watching you with a small smile playing at his lips. “You’re a walking mess,” he said, voice low and teasing.

You grinned back, dipping your brush into a fresh pot of paint. “Messy is part of the process,” you replied, eyes sparkling. “Abstract art, right?”

He stepped forward and without hesitation, reached out to brush the paint off your cheek with his thumb.“Still messy,” he said softly, but there was no judgment in his voice, only warmth.

You leaned into his touch, the quiet closeness making your heart skip a beat. “I’m your mess,” you joked, voice playful but tinged with something softer beneath. “You better clean up before you ruin my furniture.”

You laughed, setting your brush down and wiping your hands on a nearby rag. “Fine, fine. I’ll clean up. But only if you help me.”

He grinned. “Deal.”

You both moved toward the bathroom, the space filling with warmth as the shower ran. The steam rose in lazy swirls, fogging the mirror.

You stepped under the water first, the heat wrapping around your skin like a welcome embrace. Travis joined you moments later, the closeness of his body against yours making you smile.

His hands found your waist, pulling you gently into him, and you closed your eyes as he pressed soft kisses along your neck. The weight of the world, the noise, the past, everything, felt like it slipped away there, in that quiet sanctuary of warm water and shared breaths.

Eventually, you both stepped out, Travis handed you one of his shirts, soft, worn in, smelling faintly of him, and you pulled it over your head, the fabric hanging loosely on your frame.

He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and sat down on the edge of the bed, watching you with a smile that made your heart flutter.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you wearing my clothes,” he said, voice quiet and full of affection. You laughed and settled next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Guess that means you’ll just have to keep lending them to me.”

Later, in the living room, Travis flicked on the record player. The soft crackle of the vinyl filled the room, followed by a slow, gentle melody.

He reached for your hand without a word, fingers entwined with yours. You felt the familiar warmth spread through your chest as he pulled you close, guiding you into a slow sway. Your head rested lightly against his chest, and you listened to the steady beat of his heart, the sound grounding you in the moment.

He spun you gently, laughter spilling from your lips, and you grinned up at him, eyes bright. “Look at us,” he said with a teasing tone, “grown-ups dancing in the living room like teenagers.”

You smiled back, heart full. “Maybe we’re teenagers at heart.”

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you close again. The world outside faded into nothing but the warmth between you, the music, and the quiet comfort of home.

You danced for what felt like hours, neither of you wanting the moment to end.

---

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets fandom #bleh #fanfiction #viral #travis martinez #travis martinez fanfic #travis martinez x reader #fluff #light angst #cute #fanfic #yellowjackets fan fic #domestic #domestic fluff #req!#request

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 9 months ago

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Day 3: Piss kink

A/n: PLEASE I've had this idea in my head for SO LONG AND I NEEDED TO WRITE IT SOMEWHERE AND KINKTOBER WAS JUST PERFECT I'M NORMAL I SWEAR

Warnings: Smut, somnophilia, Slash pees in reader, riding, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Kinktober

You hovered over his lap as he slept, he slept naked and all you ever wore were thin shorts that you pushed aside, lining his hard cock up with your needy hole.

Slash knew you couldn't help it, sometimes you just got needy when he was still sleeping. You didn't want to wake him up but he didn't mind you helping yourself to him when he while he was still sleeping in the morning.

You knew as soon as you started bouncing on him he'd wake up but you didn't care, you had the best dream and needed him so, so bad.

Slash had come back from tour not long ago and you were still not ready to calm down, so you sank onto his length, moaning at the familiar stretch. Your hands rested on his chest, holding yourself up as you began rolling your hips, grinding down on him.

Slash was so pretty when he slept, lips parted slightly with the softest of breaths leaving him, nose scrunching occasionally, hair falling around him like a dark halo, his arm stretched out to where you had slept soundly beside him.

You saw him beginning to stir as you moved faster, fucking yourself on him and not bothering to hide your moans. You knew he got pissy when someone woke him up, even if it was you riding him.

He groaned, his eyes fluttering open and taking a second to find you on top of him. His hands eventually found your hips, loosely holding them but not guiding you as he usually would, he just didn't have the energy to.

He just let you do the work, smiling up at you occasionally, groans getting higher and whinier when he got closer, his brain wasn't working well enough yet to come up with full sentences.

His hand fell from your hip, his thumb going to rub your clit. If you hadn't been close before you definitely were now, your own moans and whines bouncing off the walls, mixing with his like a sweet song no one else would hear.

The way his tip hit that spongey spot deep in you had you seeing stars, feeling his veins dragging against your gummy walls, his thumb rubbing you in those gentle circles. The same hands that had choked you out and tugged your hair because you weren't taking all of him, they could be so gentle with you.

He never wanted to hurt you, he always made you feel special and loved, mornings like this always left you all tingly and warm.

He saw your eyes rolling back as you came and he helped guide you down onto him, letting you hide your face in the crook of his neck while he thrust his hips up into you, still chasing his own high.

You felt him spilling into you, deep and raspy groans falling onto your ears as his arms tightened around your waist, holding you tight to him.

You felt his soft lips on your cheek, kissing to your ear and nipping at your earlobe. He chuckled and kissed your cheek again.

"What, what're you giggling about?" You asked, smiling up at him.

"Nothing, nothing." He said, shaking his head. "Just... I gotta piss." Now it was your turn to shake your head.

You moved to roll off of him but he held you in place. "Don't you wanna go?" You asked.

Slash bit his lip, pretending to think for a moment before shaking his head once more. "Nah, I got a perfectly good place right here." He said, giving your ass a swift smack, causing you to gasp.

He laughed at your expression and pulled you closer to him, kissing the top of your head, another warm liquid filling you.

"You're a disgusting pig, you know that?" You said, relaxing into him. He was gross, at least he knew it and didn't try to deny it, not that he could right now, his eyes closed and a soft hum leaving him.

"M'almost done, relax."

"I think you're relaxing enough for both of us."

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eleonoraalbright · 29 days ago

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Two Teenagers on Tatooine

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x fem!reader Summary: You spill your heart out to Luke while drunk.

“Those blue eyes or pretty hair. Tell me how many times I've dreamed of running my fingers through his hair, huh? I sure can't. Gotta be more than a hundred. He's gonna do great things, I tell ya. Great things. He's gonna leave me in the dust. And I'd be happy to eat his dust. Do ya think he'd remember me when he’s off and done great things?”

“You’re not supposed to be here this late, ya know,” Luke said to himself underneath his mask while welding. You sent him an incredulous look over your shoulder from the workbench.

You stopped fixing the repulsorlift to spin around and get a better look at him. Luke also quit working to take off his mask. His lips were turned upward in a teasing smile and a glint of mischief glimmered in his eyes. You shrugged and matched his humor.

“Well, since you picked me up in your landspeeder and we took it apart for repairs and still haven’t finished it, yet I can’t really go back home, can I? Unless you’re suggesting that I walk back with bandits and raiders lurking after dark?”

“No, no, you’re right! What kinda a friend would I be to let you do that?” Luke shook his head, blond hair waving slightly, and set down his tool.

“My thoughts exactly, Skywalker. ‘Sides I probably wouldn’t make it ten steps before I collapsed from exhaustion. Whattya say we stop here for the night and finish in the morning.” Taking off your gloves, you wiped your brow. “The repulsorlift needs to recalibrate anyway. And in the meantime, we can have some fun.”

Luke’s lips pulled downward in a pretend pout. “You mean you haven’t already been having fun?”

“What I mean is that we can have even more fun.” You glanced up the stairway to make sure no one else was around. No need to have pesky adults ruin a good time. You jumped off your seat and crouched down to rustle through your knapsack. You pulled out a glass jug of electric blue liquid and revealed it to the curious farmboy.

He gasped, “Spotchka! How’d ya get it?”

You smiled at his surprise and replied, “I saved up for months and when I showed the coin to Tam he couldn’t refuse to do business with me.” You tugged the cork off and drank a mouthful. Immediately, a searing but pleasant pain ran down your throat.

“Wooh! That’s gotta kick to it!” You handed the jug to Luke’s outstretched hand. He quaffed a sizable amount and had a similar reaction.

An undetermined amount of time went by as the Spotchka was passed back and forth. It didn’t take long for you to feel the alcohol’s effects. Your head was light and airy; all troublesome thoughts disappeared to be replaced by happier musings, and a heavy, comforting weight pressed down on your chest, causing you to lay down on the couch.

Luke was swaying slightly where he sat on the floor. The bottle was nearly empty now. He tilted the jug upside down and licked the last few drops. Shaking it a few times to make absolutely sure it was really all gone, Luke tossed it aside.

He didn’t think he had ever consumed this much alcohol in this short of a period of time. His uncle had given him a sip of moonshine at the dinner table under careful supervision, but Luke had never felt this… good before. Was that normal?

Shaking his head to clear the thoughts swimming around in there, he found himself becoming dizzy. Instead of stretching down the ground like he intended to do, his back hit the floor with more force than he expected.

Luke recalled a distant memory from when he was shopping with Aunt Beru. Across the market, he had seen a man stumbling about and mumbling incoherently with a bottle in his hand.

Even at that young age, Luke was grossed out by the drool dribbling down the man’s chin. He tugged on his aunt's skirt and pointed at the odd man to ask her why he was acting so funny.

She explained the man had been indulging in too many ‘spirits’. Later, he was set down for a talk with his aunt and uncle about the dangers of over drinking. With his vision blurring, Luke thought maybe he should’ve paid more attention to them.

Luke could hear some sort of buzzing sound coming from his left. He turned his head to see the source and rubbed his eyes. You were talking, mouth moving animatedly and waving your arms around. Luke struggled to focus on your words but soon discovered it was well worth the effort.

“You know Luke, you're the bright spot in my life. Brighter than even the suns. It's true. You're one of my reasons for getting up in the mornings. The fact that I get to see your face every day—that smile—I wouldn't trade that for anything. Not even the chance to get off this barren kriffin’ wasteland. That's how much you mean. I love ya.

“Not only like a friend either. And I wish you—I wish you thought the same. He consumes my every waking moment. I love him. More than I can bear sometimes. My heart when he's with me feels like it's gonna beat right outta my chest when I'm near him. But it breaks too cause he only thinks about leaving this stupid planet which I can't blame him.

Luke was perplexed from the switch from second person to third person, but then guessed that, in your inebriated state, you had forgotten who you were speaking to. This oughta be good.

“I'd leave if I could take him with me. If he'd have me. He's– He's not perfect by any means. He's stubborn, cocky, whiny, the dumbest crap comes outta his mouth sometimes. But he's kind. He listens to me. He helps me. I think it was love at first sight when he helped me with my broken speeder in the dune sea. He's got that special thing—that aura—around him that just pulls you in.

“I need to get closer to him. If I were any braver, I'd march up to him and kiss him flat on that stupid mouth of his. Then he'd absolutely know what I think about him. He'd know. Then I'd pray he loved me too. He won't though. I'm just his friend. It's a curse and a gift. I get to be with him, but not in that way. I can barely stand to be around him, yet I can barely stand not to be around him.

“It's torture and he's going about his business none the wiser. Not giving a second thought about li’l ol’ me. I'd tell him straight to his face if I had any courage, but I’d– well I'd do something if he hated me for telling him. Not sure what though. Probably throw myself to a Krayt dragon. End my suffering once and for all.

“Feels like a weight on my chest carrying all these thoughts and feelings and everything for him, and him not caring two bits. Oh, Luke, if you knew how much you affected me... I don't know what you'd do, but... I don't know... What'd you think, sir? Should I tell that handsome boy how much I'd love for him to kiss me? How I want him.

“How I crave to be in his orbit yet hate it too somehow. I don't know. What do I know? Nuffin' except I... Luke is my bright spot. My golden ray of sunshine. My one and only. My... nothing. I got no right to call him mine. He's no object. He is a beautiful human being. No, he’s got to be more than that. No... he is human. He can't be. No mortal has his looks or charm.

“That childhood friend from Tatooine from a lifetime ago. I'd never forget him. Never. Not even amnesia could rip his memory from my mind. C'mon I've been doing all the yapping, chatting, the tongue flagging—huh—wagging I mean. What do you say I should do? You seem to be the wise, sage person here.

“What should I do, huh? Should I write him a letter? Or should I do something more drastic to get it through that thick skull of his that I want his body on mine. That I want to know every single detail about him. Oh, Luke if only... if only.”

Your head sagged to the side and your eyes widened to see the boy not more than a few steps away from you with his mouth hanging open. Huh. So that’s who you were talking to.

Nevertheless, you needed to finish the last of your speech. “Do you know that it's because of you, Luke, that I think there's a higher power in the universe. There's no possible way you are the product of evolutionary chance. You're too perfect. You're too… sculpted.

“Does that make sense? There must be a deity or deities out there somewhere who created you with perfection in mind. Your face must have been crafted with the utmost care and love to turn out so.”

“So what?”

“So perfect! I'm probably not helping your ego, am I? You're already full of yourself.”

“I'd rather be full of you.”

“Full of me?” Your mind immediately jumped to somewhere naughty. “That could be easily m-mis-” You grappled with finding the right word. “Misconstrued, Mr. Skywalker. You ought to be more careful with your phrasing, huh?”

“I meant what I said… I said what I meant. I mean… uh… It’s the truth and you should hear it.” Luke stumbled from one end of the room to the other to reach you where you were lying on the couch and clumsily claimed your lips with his. It was awkward and not at all what Luke envisioned his first kiss with you would be but that didn’t stop him.

He felt one of your hands trail down his body while the other grasped the back of his head, pulling his hair. As much as he was enjoying it, Luke broke off the kiss to get a good look at you.

Your lips were still parted and your breath smelled like the slightly sweet spotchka. Your eyes never left him. His fingers touched your cheek, drawing swirling patterns across the skin. “Do you really mean it? Do you really love me? Do I really mean all that to you?”

You remained silent for several seconds and Luke was sure his heart would shatter into a thousand pieces if you said no. He would throw himself to the sand people if you took it back or worse if it was all a hallucination conjured up by the alcohol.

With his body dead, his spirit would wander the vast dune sea, haunting the place you had lived. Parents would tell his story to their children of the dangers of over consuming alcohol. There was still a buzzing in his head but that didn’t block your words reaching his ears. “I meant every word, Luke. Every word.”

He let out a huge sigh and kissed you again more forcefully this time. He said, “I love you too. I didn’t know you also loved me.”

“What can I say, Skywalker, I’m good at keeping that part under wraps. At least I was.”

Luke's legs dangled over the edge of the couch and he squirmed against your body. There wasn’t enough space. “Wanna go up to my room? Sure would beat this couch.”

“I think that's a lovely idea. Almost as lovely as you are.”

Grinning like an idiot at your compliment, Luke rolled off the couch and crashed to the floor. You laughed at his smooth moves and he mumbled for you to hush up but that didn’t deter you from expressing your amusement.

He helped you up and arm-in-arm you both stumbled up the stairs to the outdoor courtyard. You placed a hand on Luke’s chest to stop him from walking. “Look.” You jerked your chin up to the clear night sky. Millions of pinpoints of lights brighten the black abyss above.

Two shooting stars passed into view before disappearing into the horizon. You leaned on him and stared up, wondering if maybe it was a sign. A tiny bit of sense was leaking into your brain. You remembered you and Luke were just two teenagers on Tatooine.

The galaxy was a much bigger place than this little hole in the desert but it didn’t feel like that. You knew little of love but you wouldn’t take back your confession because it didn’t matter.

“Luke, we’re both drunk out of kriffin’ minds… Are either of us gonna remember this in the morning? Will it matter?” You already came to your conclusion but wanted his perspective.

“I’ll remember. I’ll never forget your words as long as I live. And in the morning, I’ll tell you how much I love you again. And the day after that and the day after that. Til we’re in our graves.”

“That’s an awfully big commitment.”

“You’re worth it.”

A cool breeze swept through the courtyard causing you to huddle closer to Luke. You listened to his heartbeat steadily. It’s a calming sound, soothing future worries. Everything else besides him seemed to drift away into a haze. You could be plain crazy or hopeful (maybe both) but you believed him.

#luke skywalker x reader #x reader #luke skywalker #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars imagine #luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker fanfiction #Luke Skywalker Fluff #cross posted on ao3

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