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#grumpy but cocky personality
burnin0akleaves · 11 months
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Lord of the Mountains of Rain and Night (for a particular ask blog)
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wildgeese98 · 9 months
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The birthday scene in mag 161 makes it clear that Jon did not have any kind of handle on his employees. Tim and Sasha absolutely do not respect his authority and aren't afraid to show it. Sasha causally admits to breaking I to his computer to look at his personal info and when Jon starts to admonish her Tim cuts him off and he just, stops. Then Tim lights the candles completely ignoring Jon's feeble protests. The two of them together are menace. They're absolutely running circles around the poor guy. It's no wonder he's so grumpy in season 1. The only person who listens to him at all is Martin and Jon can't stand him. The guy was in over his head from jump. He acts so cocky on the tapes in season 1 when behind the scenes he was winning the award for least in charge boss ever.
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avidfics · 3 months
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giving into sevika's advances
summary: Sevika has been chasing you for weeks and you finally give in.
warnings: Grumpy sevika, bratty reader, suggestive topics, light touching, reader takes charge
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Fidgeting. During interrogations, Sevika has had plenty of macho men fidget under her weighted glare. It was one of her favorite hobbies afterall. 
But for her to be fidgeting? Disgusting. Yet, sure enough, her thumb was reflexively flicking her pocket knife open and closed repeatedly in a flash as her eyes kept catching any movement from the bar’s swinging doors. Waiting. 
“Does my eyes deceive me?” Finn, one of the flunkies on her team shout loudly to the other people on her team in the otherwise empty bar. “Is the great terror of Zaun nervous?” 
A chorus of ooohs echo around the room, ignoring the heavy ‘thud’ of Sevika spearing the wooden table with her knife. “If you like being able to move your jaw I suggest you shut your mouth. Or I'll do it for you."
“Do it” he tosses right back. A cocky smile bright as he swags over and proudly offers the side of his face. “But 50 bucks bets that you won’t, cause your sweet little assistant will be here any minute and you don’t want her to see the monster you really are.” 
The fucking idiot hit the nail on the head, and boy was that annoying. Two months ago you showed up, looking like a vision out of one of her dirtiest fantasies. You strolled into Silco’s main base, ass clad in black jeans that hugged you like a second skin and a blouse, though modest enough, had a few buttons loose at the top that provided a peek at your cleavage if someone looked down hard enough. 
And sevika did look. She wasn’t ashamed. Your tits were fucking glorious and made her clit so sensitive her eyes crossed.  
Jinx- the wacko- loved your confidence immediately and after an extensive background check, and minor threatening, Zilco hired you. 
And Sevika had been trying to get in your pants every single chance she got, even though you weren’t her usual easily submissive type. You were prissy, stubborn, and had a stick up your ass that she desperately wanted to take out and replace with her silicone cock. 
She was pussy whipped and she hadn’t even had a taste. Even her team had noticed. 
Which is why she had to work double time to keep them in check and why her fist slams into Finn’s metal jaw with a satisfying crunch. The pain in her knuckles felt good and a bloodthirsty smile slicks across her face even as she presses the pocket knife to Finn’s neck. “Pay up fucker. And let it be a reminder that I could give a fuck about some assistant’s sweet ass.” 
“Good to know.”
+++
The topic of your sweet ass was not what you were expecting to hear walking into Silco’s bar to handle some paperwork. 
Especially not from the Sevika. Who looked dumbstruck at you even with Finn’s collar bunched in her bruised fist and the tip of a knife to his neck. 
Crap she looked good af. A black muscle shirt clung to her frame and cuffed at her biceps. Her hair was in a half hazard ponytail with loose pieces falling into her eyes. Giving her a slightly crazed look that made your face heat. 
But once again, this was a reminder that Sevika was not someone to mess with. She was the second scariest person in Zaun, and the blood on her knuckles served as an excellent reminder not to fraternize with your superiors, no matter how delicious they looked in a fitted tee.  
“Please continue.” You swivel away from her stunned look in your high heels. “My ass and I will be making the rounds.” 
Mumbled curses and the distinct sound of Finn’s goan of pain follows you as you strid away, a purposeful swing in your hips, to another member of the team to get details on inventory. They give you an easy grin and answer your questions but clam up as a shadow falls over the table.
“Scram.” It wasn’t a question and they hurried away. 
You huff a sigh and plop a seat on the now forgotten stool. Crossing your legs just to see dark whiskey colored eyes fasten to your legs for a heated minute. “Sevika, feel free to leave. I wouldn’t want you to worry about my ass and I.” 
A hefty groan leaves her lips, and she drags her hand down her face. “That’s not what I meant.” 
Whatever. You begin your work on your clipboard. “That’s what you said.” 
A whispered “smart ass” is muttered before you jump at her taking your clipboard out your hands and invading your space. “Believe me.” Dark eyes stare down at you with an intensity that makes you shift uncomfortably on the stool in an attempt to alleviate a budding tingle. 
“Your ass is very much a concern of mine.” 
‘Prove it.’’ Is on the tip of your tongue but you hold back. Provoking Sevika would not end well for you or your ass. Get in, get the job done, and get out. Those were the rules. 
You reach your hand out. A demanding arch in your raised eyebrow to convey a bravado you truly didn’t possess. “Hand it over. I’m sure there’s a face you need to pummel in an alley somewhere.” A mocking smile plasters across your lips. “Better get to it.”
One step. That’s all it takes for her to encroach closer in your space. So close you can see the way her nostrils flare. “Face pummeling is on Friday’s.” A heat was simmering between the two of you, and the more time you spent in her presence, the more you wavered on deciding if you wanted to cool it or let it go unchecked. Especially as she hid your clipboard out of your reach so her hands were free to grab the wooden legs of your chair and scoot you closer to her.
“Ep!” You were so startled that you wrapped your hands around her wrist and immediately regretted it. Her skin was a contrast. One wrist was so warm to the touch, while the other held a stark coldness. You wondered what the duality would feel like wrapped around in clean sheets, preferably naked. 
None of this escaped Sevika’s notice. The mocking smile that once graced your lips is now mirrored back at you. “I like the sound of you bossing me around.” The words trail as her eyes fasten to your lips. “Do it again.” 
The irony that she was the one making commands wasn’t lost on you. “Leave me alone, Muscle-head. I’m way too much for you. Better stick to your usual simpering type.”
A smirk, the one she wears before charging head first into a fight, emerges. “You don’t think you're my type?” An eye roll in return has her releasing a small chuckle. The unexpected feel of a warm, calloused hand gripping your bare calf makes your facade of boredom slip as you frantically look behind sevika to check for wondering eyes. Luckily, you had seated in a secluded nook of the bar, where a wall partially hid you both. But all it would take is someone popping their head in the entryway to see the inappropriate way your boss was holding you and how much it was turning you on.
And those damn hands just won’t stay still. Your legs were crossed, one over the other, but that didn’t pause Sevika’s frisky hands moving up and down your exposed legs, her thumbs circling around your knees and in a soothing way that hinted at how they would move against your clit. “Think you’re mistaken babe. You might be a bit more brattish than other girls I’ve had, but I guarantee when I get you under me, I’ll have you whining for my touch just like the others.” 
A scoff gets choked in your throat with the new caress against your sensitive skin. There was no hesitancy in her touch, just a heavy grasp that urged you to ease your tightly crossed legs so her wonderful fingers could be closer to where you needed them. 
But you needed to come to your senses. Taking a chance, you lean back and feign falling off the stool, and are satisfied by the speed of sevika hoisting you back up to safety. But it gives you leverage to fist her shirt by the collar and fold her massive body over to your seated height. 
With the new vantage point, her macho act was so transparent you snickered at what you now realized. These past weeks you were sooo apprehensive when it came to Sevika’s blatant advances because you’d have to be insane to entertain the enforcer of Zaun. The fierce enforcer of Silco who made men taller than you piss themselves with just a sharp stare. 
The same woman, who harshly gripped your waist to make sure you were safely seated, didn’t have her usual malice in her eyes when it came to you. In fact, when it came to you, she was oddly docile. Still demanding, but with a gentleness that you never noticed. 
Perhaps, you could have some fun afterall. She’s still leaning over you as you take a chance to goad her. “Strange, from my observation you’re the one doing all the begging.”  The noticeable way her jaw tightens is almost humorous. “And it sounds so good coming from your lips.” 
You both were in a trance as you dare to cover her hands with yours. And the way her eyes flare totally made it worth it. “Maybe I was too hasty to turn you down all those times.” you murmured against check.
“Ya think,” she saids with a grumpy attitude but the way her hands are frantically palming your exposed flesh under your direction is a dead giveaway of her need. “Made me chase your ass for weeks.”
“Poor baby.” you coo against her sensitive ear. “Let’s make a deal.” Both pairs of hands move up your legs and reach past your skirt and to your upper thighs, scrunching up your skirt so much your panties are surely peaking through. You can feel the tightly held restraint it was taking Sevika to not overpower your hands. Just that knowledge made a delicious shiver shoot up from your core. “We’ll continue with whatever this is but with one condition. I get total control of everything while we’re together.” 
A rough scoff rakes up Sevika's chest, yet she presses herself even closer to your body. Her nose dragging up and down your collarbone. “Babe, ya know who you're talking to right? Think I’m that whipped that I’ll follow you around as if you have beer-flavored tits? Why would I when there’s a brothel right down the street?”
Asshole
“That’s up to you. But let’s test it out first, yeah?” Her quick head nod is the only green light needed as you smile with satisfaction. Slowly you remove your hands off hers. “What do you want?” you whisper in her ear. 
The answer is immediate. “Need to get between your warm thighs.” The second after you murmur a concession your legs are spread wide to accommodate Sevika’s bulky form that was now pressed against your panty-covered pussy. A tiny moan leaves your lips as she presses you even closer so you need to depend on her to avoid tumbling out the chair.
You dodge the hungry kiss she tries to plant on your lips. “Uh uh, musclehead.” You pry up in the chair, pressing slow, wet kisses along her neck. “I didn’t give you permission.” A slew of curses are tossed from her impatient lips as she throws her head back. Which is perfect for you as you continue to attack her neck. The image of her tortured face will be in your memory forever. “What’s your choice, love? Me or the brothel?” It takes effort but you reach your lips to her ear and suckle her earlobe.
“Shit. You fuck.” she groans. 
“Good choice baby. Go ahead and taste me.” A hand holds the nape of your neck as her full lips takes over and devours you with the most desperate kiss you ever experienced. All you can do was sit there and take it with the knowledge that you were still in full control. 
It was over too soon but Sevika wore a goofy overly confident wolfish grin. “Knew you’d give in eventually.”
The eyeroll was inescapable as you give her a patronizing pat on the chest. “Sure musclehead. Follow me to your office, your going to finish my paperwork while I take a nap.”
She grumbles but is right on your heels. Taking the clipboard in one hand and your hand in the other. “Guess this makes me your obedient lap dog now, huh?”
“You said it not me.”
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FOOLISH SPRING WINDS, BLOW MY WAY ; SATORU GOJO
summary; a snippet of the spring you share with a certain satoru gojo — who seems intent on making your high school life as difficult as possible.
word count; 5.4k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, enemies to friends (..but the ’enemy’ part is kinda one-sided), fluffy n sweet overall, satoru doesn’t know how to make friends + thinks lighthearted bullying constitutes as a bonding activity, he’s a little shit but he means well, switching povs, lots of gojo slander (but reader sees the light eventually), big shoujo vibes, they’re both tsunderes <33
a/n; i ended up scrapping the series i wrote this fic for originally, so i thought i’d rewrite it and repost it on its own!! teentoru is such a grumpy little kitten i need to squish his paws
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satoru gojo is annoying.
it might seem blunt, but after many weeks of careful thinking, you’ve decided no description could possibly fit him better. 
when you first met him, on that first day of school, you had no idea what to think. no real expressions or tonal shifts to clue you in on who he was, how he felt — nothing but the slightest peek of a terrifying blue to set your nerves on edge. 
in hindsight, you’re almost certain it was intentional. he wanted to appear unreadable. purposefully hiding his personality and mannerisms, to gain the upper hand — observing you, dissecting you inside his mind, while revealing nothing about himself apart from his surname. 
it’s a kind of power; a safety measure.
… but evidently, holding back isn’t exactly gojo’s forte. the very next morning, he was already beginning to loosen up, after getting more accustomed to the new environment and classmates. showing you his true colours; just a little hint of cerulean, a single dip of paint on the blank canvas of his soul.
and with the revelation of his genuine personality — your unease around him festered even more.
where could you even begin to describe him? for one, he’s childish. and cocky. and loud. arrogant, selfish and flamboyant — just generally an asshole? you could go on and on. none of the traits are particularly flattering, and you know he couldn’t care less.
gojo is annoying, plain and simple. almost constantly up to something, eager to push someone’s buttons, to get attention. like a bratty toddler. uninterested in manners, or even common courtesy; he says what he feels, regardless of how other people take it. 
to put it simply, he has no regard for the people around him. his self-interest is limitless. 
as if that wasn’t annoying enough — you have no choice but to admit that he does have a certain presence to him. a kind of charisma, or what you think could become charisma, if he’d just get off that high horse already. he won’t, though. you know he won’t. he revels in it, in looking down on everything and everyone, annoyingly boisterous and irritatingly tall. freaky, long limbs. like a noodle and an alien had a baby.
but, more than anything — above all else — what frustrates you most is the fact that his unbridled confidence isn’t exactly unwarranted.
as much as it pains you to say it… gojo is maybe just a little bit incredible. a natural-born genius. he’s intelligent, and observant, and awfully pretty, with those baby blues eyes and those snowy locks of hair. and he has no issue getting what he wants. 
absolutely zero. 
there’s something admirable about it, in a twisted way. like he doesn’t even need to try. he’s good at anything, if he just gives it a single chance. you can only assume he’s never given much thought to the prospect of being a decent guy, because that’s the only thing he sucks at.
effortlessly perfect, in the most imperfect of ways. that’s probably how you’d describe him.
… annoying is still the most fitting word, though. or maybe obnoxious. he’s got this spoiled rich kid vibe that irks you, gets under your skin. you doubt he’s ever had to empathize with anyone, in his entire life. 
and, yes — maybe you’re being a little harsh to him. but why should you bother being jovial when he won’t return the favour?
gojo is annoying; and when you say that, you mean annoying to basically everyone. as a basis for existing. always teasing and taunting, looking down from that high horse of his. you’re no exception to this rule, of course. but you’re almost certain that he has it out for you specifically.
you know he looks down on you, from behind those tacky sunglasses. you’re sure of it.
compared to geto or shoko, you aren’t very self-assured — and you think he must have sensed it the moment he laid eyes on you. sensed that you’re a little meek, a bit of a doormat, easy to push around and get a rise out of. maybe he also noticed your apprehension towards him, your apparent unease. 
you’re easy prey, to put it simply.
evidently, he’s developed a fondness for getting under your skin. it started as soon as introductions were over, and it still hasn’t gotten better. he loves catching you off guard, throwing you an unneeded comment or two, just to see what reaction you’ll give him next. almost like he’s solving an equation — said equation being you, the limit of your patience. and you keep giving him what he wants; a scoff, a roll of your eyes, an earnest fuck right off. you can never seem to successfully ignore him. he’s just far, far too good at being insufferable.
… and, more than anything, he’s far too out of reach. even when you try to get along with him, it backfires. you don’t have a single thing in common. you don’t understand him at all. 
(and that suits you just fine.)
a heavy sigh slips from your parted lips, as you examine your blurry reflection in the surface of the mirror. fatigue clings to your skin like a layer of sweat, your mind muddled, stuffed with anxious thoughts and discomforting feelings.
you’re exhausted. completely and utterly spent, even though the day’s barely begun — running on three pitiful hours of sleep, all broken up and jumbled by nightmares that wouldn’t stop spooking you. not a single wink of proper rest. 
and it’s painfully obvious. in your face, your posture, the dark crescents beneath your eyes; in the way you can’t help but drag your legs as you walk, your hair disheveled, little sighs and grumbles slipping from your lips for every step you take. all you can do is sluggishly blink the exhaustion away.
you just feel so tired.
it could be worse, though. you don’t have any classes today, no real reason to get out of your comfy bed, leave the safety of your cozy little dorm room. but you need breakfast, right now, or else you’ll literally explode — so you still get up on shaky legs and try to mimic the appearance of someone… even moderately well-rested.
it doesn’t work, but that’s besides the point. 
so you make your way to the dormitory’s shared kitchen. walking idly — clumsily — enjoying the sight of fleeting, fluttering cherry blossoms through the windows you pass. little pink butterflies.
once you’ve crossed the threshold, you’re relieved to find the open space entirely devoid of people. no shoko, no geto, not even a mischievous gojo. running into the first two wouldn’t be the end of the world — but it still wouldn’t be ideal. you don’t want anyone seeing you like this, tired and meek, a little vulnerable.
(least of all gojo. you shiver at the bare thought.)
with laboured, groggy movements, you waltz around the kitchen, getting cups and plates and turning on the coffee machine. enjoying the soothing melody of the pan sizzling, singing along to the purring of espresso being made. it’s nice and pleasant to your sensitive ears, as you blink under the rays of sunlight shining in, throwing together a lazy breakfast. 
you waste no time in taking a seat by one of the tables once you’re finished. eager to soak in the peace and quiet, wolf down a sandwich and copious amounts of caffeine.
but, as always — the world seems to have it out for you specifically.
”oh? well, look who it is. and here i thought you had left too.”
you stiffen. ever so slightly, barely noticeable, but still enough that you physically feel the dread envelop every single cell of your body. the voice that echoes out across the open air is a chipper one, a familiar one. a voice you were desperately hoping not to hear today. 
all you can do is continue to sip from your cup of coffee, inwardly wincing, silently going through all five stages of grief simultaneously — before accepting your unfortunate predicament. 
(that’s just your luck, isn’t it?)
finally, you raise your weary head, knowing exactly what sight you’ll be met with once you do. 
and, lo and behold — there he is.
gojo looks the same as always. grinning brightly, a little woflish, wearing those ugly sunglasses and making his way across the room like he owns it. a trait you can’t help but admire, envy, hate and worship at the same time. he plops down next to you like it’s nothing, a little too close for comfort, unconcerned about your concept of personal space.
”whatcha up to?” he chirps, in that sugar sweet tone, layered over with a boyish kind of excitement. there’s a teasing tilt to it, too — the one that always accompanies his voice when he’s speaking to you.
under normal circumstances, you’d flip him off. maybe even just glare at him, silently, or raise a brow in challenge.
but you’re far, far too tired to. too anxious. too in need of sleep, in need of a peaceful breakfast that he oh so cruelly ripped from you. all you can muster is the energy to glance his way.
for just a second, your eyes meet. not like you can actually see them, from behind his glasses — but you know they’re there. menacing and uncanny, bright and excited. too much to handle, right now.
”… morning.”
as soon as the mutter has left your lips, you take a tentative bite of your sandwich. gaze trailing sluggishly back to your plate.
gojo blinks.
he immediately notes that your voice sounds meek. even more so than usual. he expected you to give him a scoff, or even just a timid huff — but no such luck. 
you’re just sitting there, quiet, curling into yourself.
after a moment’s consideration, gojo opts to look at you. to really look at you, study your face, the way those twitchy fingers move to curl around the ceramic handle of the cup you’re drinking out of. the way your eyes shift from place to place, unfocused, your eyelids flicking shut every couple seconds. slow.
he’s always been observant — but it doesn’t take a genius to see that you’re tired. 
gojo is silent, for no more than a mere moment; contemplating his next course of action. he’s never seen you like this, before. did something happen?
(— well, it doesn’t matter. not his problem.)
”you look like a zombie,” he grins, a little teasing, showing off the white of his teeth. even though you look out of it, he can’t help himself — despite his own intuition telling him to let you be. 
you’re just too fun to tease. suguru and shoko only ever raise their eyebrows at him, or stare him down like a misbehaving dog, but you always have a good reaction to give. something to entertain him when he’s bored, distract him when his mind is too full of noise. 
so he can’t help but tease you, a little. hoping it’ll soothe the restlessness inside his chest.
but for once, what gojo expects isn’t what he gets. 
what he expects is for you to glare at him. tell him to leave you alone, or even just sigh in exasperation — either one would be fine. it’s just mindless enjoyment, to him, a little fun to lighten up his day. 
especially now, when suguru is away on some day trip he wasn’t privy to. that traitor. shoko is nowhere to be seen, either, probably off smoking in some random alleyway. or hanging out with one of the kyoto losers.
… the whole dorm is so eerily quiet.
(gojo would never admit it, not in a thousand years… but maybe he’d feel just a little bit lonely without any of you around.)
for a while after waking up, he assumed he’d have to spend the whole day alone. no one to talk to, no one to look at. he was practically dying of boredom. but then he entered the kitchen — and saw his saving grace. his dear little irritable classmate. 
he was so relieved. content in the knowledge that he’d get to push your buttons to his heart’s desire, bask in your playful banter and cold, joking little looks until suguru finally comes home.
only this time — you don’t react at all. 
you don’t give him what he expects, don’t indulge his little antics, in the way he’s grown so accustomed to. you just keep eating your breakfast, and drinking your coffee, in total silence. 
gojo waits, just a couple moments more. hoping for a delayed reaction, a witty counter, a snarky comment. anything. 
but it never comes.
finally, he starts to sulk. slumping against the leather seat behind him, quieting down with a low huff. furrowing his brows, as his glossy, cherry-tasting lips curl down into a little pout.
honestly, he’s kind of annoyed. just what is your problem? what is with you, today? 
… it’s no fun if you’re not playing along. 
gojo can’t help but grumble, a little, under his breath. you’re usually so responsive, so easy to rile up. so what’s wrong? why are you just sitting there?
whatever. so what if you’re not talking to him? so what if you won’t even spare him a glance? gojo has better things to do, bigger fish to fry. he wasn’t even that excited, when he saw you. the thought of bantering with you didn’t lift his spirits, even in the slightest. 
not even a little bit.
but, really — would it take so much effort for you to just say something? to just respond to his friendly little quip? you can’t possibly be that tired. 
or, what — did you get insecure, or something? because he called you a zombie? no way. you’re not that sensitive… are you? or is that it? 
what a hassle.
you know he’s just messing with you. he knows you know. so why are you acting so…. 
(sad, gojo wants to think, but he buries the thought before it can reach his frontal cortex. he doesn’t want to empathize with you, not right now — doesn’t want to feel that discomforting pang in his chest.)
a strange sensation bubbles up in his chest. something frustrated, a little unnerved; at your lack of a reaction, the weak glint in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand why — and that frustrates him even more. 
why can’t you just bite back, like always?
(… it’s fun when you do.)
the silence lingers on, stretches out across the room, festers and grows as you gulp down your breakfast. all while gojo keeps on sulking, still sitting beside you, waiting for something to happen. he briefly considers getting up and leaving, or saying something annoying to hopefully spur you on —
but you stand up before he can convince himself to go through with either option.
having finished your breakfast, your legs carry you to the sink. finally, you can head back to your room. gojo’s being weirdly quiet, but you pay no mind to it; methodically washing your dishes in silence. 
you don’t bother saying goodbye to him, either. still sitting there, seemingly deep in thought, grumbling something under his breath. 
he watches as you leave, gaze trailing after you, until you’re completely out of sight. 
then he lays down, flat on his back, with a frustrated huff. trying desperately to brush away the memory of your dim eyes, the slight frown on your lips. the dark circles under your eyes, that he tried so hard not to notice because they made him feel so weirdly uncomfortable. the meek, meek look you gave him.
gojo sighs.
(he feels just a tiny, tiny bit bad.)
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when you wake up from your slumber, you immediately note that your body feels lighter.
this time, no nightmares came to haunt you. having practically collapsed once your head hit the pillow, your body finally decided to give you some peace of mind, some well needed rest. thankfully.
with a groan, you lazily stretch out your limbs — enjoying the feeling of your veins waking up, gaze falling on the clock on your wall. you’ve only been asleep for about two hours, or so, but it’s more than enough to give you the little jolt of energy that you need.
what to do, what to do. you still have the whole day ahead of you. another nap wouldn’t hurt, but you don’t want to waste your precious free time just rotting in bed — maybe you could take a walk around the schoolyard instead? the cherry blossoms have started to unfurl, and the grounds of the school are just littered with them.
even just the mental image is enough to have you changing into some light and comfortable clothes, reaching a hand out to push your door open. excitement stirring in your veins.
as you do so, something is knocked over.
all you hear is a soft little thud, accompanied by the sensation of something colliding with the door. a low curiosity overtakes you — eagerly peeking around for a look at the mysterious something.
your gaze falls on something pink.
it’s tiny, awfully out of place, just laying unassumingly on the dusty floorboards. as you crouch down to get a better look, you recognize it instantly; a small carton of strawberry milk. a plastic straw plastered on its side, and an evil looking cow mascot staring at you from the front. one of the items sold in the schoolyard’s vending machines — your personal favorite. you drink it every time you need a tiny pick-me-up, the sweet taste always managing to soothe your spirits.
and it was sitting right outside your door.
you stare at it, silently, in deep contemplation. holding it in your hand as the gears turn inside your head. could someone have dropped it? no, that’s dumb — who’d drop it right outside your door and then not pick it up?
… did someone leave it for you, then? because they know you like it? that could be it, maybe, but who would —
your mind stills. 
(no way.)
when you think about it — that’s the only explanation that makes sense. shoko and geto aren’t there, and you barely know any of your senior students. yaga-sensei would never give you strawberry milk without a lecture on the dangers of cavities, either.
that just leaves one possible culprit.
but you can’t wrap your head around it. why would he do something like that? he doesn’t like you — you know that much. so it couldn’t possibly be him.
… then again, you have seen him drink it. both of you like it, contrary to your other classmates; shoko doesn’t like sweet things in general, and geto wouldn’t go for strawberry milk if he could choose something else. it might as well be the only thing you and gojo have in common — the one thing that binds you two together. 
a single carton of strawberry milk. 
it’s almost comical.
(if it’s really true — if he really did do it… then you wonder why. maybe he noticed that you were feeling under the weather, and figured it’d make you happy. 
you wonder if it’d be foolish of you, to believe that it’s true — if only because you kinda like the idea.)
your feet move on their own, before your mind has a chance to question the decision. 
where could he be? in the kitchen, still? in his dorm?
just as you begin to wonder, a flash of white dances in the corners of your vision. when you glance out the window, you see it; white, soft hair, like a fluffy cloud, in the midst of all the pink petals fluttering about. 
you stop.
then you start walking again. with more decision, this time. hurrying to the exit.
gojo is sitting right outside the dormitory, on a wooden bench, legs swinging idly as he gazes at the sky. his hair sways slightly with the breeze, soft strands moving and caressing his skin. pink petals dance all around him, gracefully descending down to the ground, together with a trail of bubbles. gojo is blowing them, haphazardly, following their movement with his keen eyes. they glimmer in the sunlight, reflecting all shades of the rainbow.
the sight is just a little bit breathtaking. 
the ground crunches beneath your feet, when you take a step forward — and gojo turns towards you. you stiffen like a deer in headlights, instantly regretting your decision. blinking nervously. you walked here almost entirely on impulse, but now that you’re face to face…
(it’s a little scary.)
… still, it’s far too late to back out now. you can’t do much except join him, so that’s exactly what you do — albeit a little hesitantly.
trying to ignore his continuous stare, burning into the side of your head, you plop down beside him. feeling the steady bench beneath you, breathing in the scent of sweet-smelling cherries and soap.
an uncomfortable silence lingers in the air around you both, as he waits for you to say something. 
it’s a little tough. mustering up the courage to say anything, even just to face him. the decisiveness you felt just a moment ago has faded, now only the ghost of a sensation — you’re too nervous to verbalize anything.
but eventually, after a deep breath or two, you force yourself to speak. hoping you won’t come to regret it.
”… hey, gojo?” 
it’s almost a whisper. soft and fragile, mumbled beneath your breath as you stare at the cherry trees in front of you. you know his eyes are on you, though. you can feel them, almost feel their weight in the palm of your hand. like marbles.
weakly, you raise up the carton of strawberry milk. glancing over at him, not quite managing a smile, but trying your best to look somewhat appreciative. 
”thanks.”
a confused blink. gojo looks down the strawberry milk, and then back up at you. eyelashes fluttering.
a moment passes. 
then he turns his head away, swiftly, his hair tousled by the movement — a couple pink petals stuck between the soft strands. you can’t see his face anymore.
”i have no idea what you’re talking about,” he huffs, with a voice you’ve never heard him speak through.
when you look a little closer — you think the tips of his ears may be just slightly red. it makes your lips curl up into a small smile, but you barely feel it.
(like this, he’s actually kind of cute.)
cherry blossoms flutter in the wind, dancing joyously, without a care in the world. a spring breeze ruffles gojo’s hair, as he sits beside you, having begun to blow his bubbles again. not saying a word, and looking straight ahead. but you can’t help but stare, as sneakily as you can muster.
you find yourself thinking that he looks right at home, among the petals. fleeting, hard to get a grasp on, so pretty, and so out of reach — despite being so close. 
if you wanted to, you could reach over and touch him. you could reach for his sunglasses, lift them off his face, and finally see those eyes he’s so intent on hiding. you could see him, see straight into his soul — and find out who he really is.
you won’t, though. some boundaries aren’t meant to be so callously crossed.
instead, you puncture the pink carton in your hand with the plastic straw, and take a tentative sip. the sweet taste soothes you, straight away, blooming on your tongue. you can’t help but sigh, softly, relaxing even further — it’s absolutely perfect, for this kind of weather. the sight before you, cherry petals and shining bubbles, a boy you don’t like, but definitely don’t hate. 
you both look up, following the bubbles with your eyes, as they float up into the sky; as they get smaller and smaller, farther and farther out of reach. neither of you say a word, but the silence is comforting. light. 
gojo is the first one to break it — in a voice so small you barely hear it.
”… you don’t look like a zombie.”
a second passes. you’re left blinking in confusion, trying to decipher the sudden statement. you can’t get a good read on his expression, with those eyes of his conveniently hidden; he must have regained his composure, then.
it takes a couple seconds for his words to sink in — but once they do, all pieces seem to fall into place. 
and you burst into laughter.
gojo blinks at you, caught off guard, his eyelashes flapping like a little dove scrambling to get off the ground — staring at you like you just grew a second head. that makes you laugh harder, a bout of giggles spilling past your lips — you just can’t help it. 
”did —” you wheeze, softly, thoroughly amused. trying and failing to bite back the laughter. ”did you think i was bothered by that, or something?”
gojo looks at you. a little stunned, for a moment. the sight only makes your smile bloom further, eyes crinkled as you meet his gaze. from the angle you’re viewing him through, leaning back against the bench, you catch a glimmer of his eyes. they’re awfully pretty — blue and bright, full of life. when you look closer, you can see tiny, tiny splotches of white. 
they look like the blue sky. 
you called them menacing, before, but now you aren’t so sure. they seem soft, in the sunlight, especially when seen like this — right after catching him off guard. it’s a rare moment, terribly precious. something to savour.
gojo doesn’t let it linger, though. 
after a moment of two, he scoffs — turning away yet again. a soft, soft pout on his lips.
”obviously not,” he huffs, sounding nothing but irritated, resting his jaw on the heel of his palm. ”but with how sensitive you are, i wouldn’t be surprised.”
usually, a comment like that would irk you. now it just makes you giggle, lightheartedly — the tips of his ears turning redder at the sound. 
(he really isn’t so bad, after all.)
for a while, you don’t say anything else. afraid of ruining the tender atmosphere. you feel closer to gojo than ever before — and you wonder if maybe this is the gojo that geto sees. childish, but well meaning. arrogant and cocky, but oddly innocent. selfish — but not really. you’re starting to think that you may have been slightly off, with that one.
the strawberry milk on your tongue tastes sweet. a little sweeter than usual, though you choose not to dwell on it.
”hey,” you break the silence, surprising even yourself. the words fall from your lips like soft little breaths, rolling off your tongue like marbles pouring out of a glass bottle. ”i don’t dislike you, you know?”
it’s an impulsive admission. saying it out loud doesn’t feel wrong, though. maybe a little humiliating, sure, but not wrong. not dishonest.
you suspect that gojo may be looking at you, out of the corner of his eye, but you aren’t sure. after all, you’re vehemently avoiding his gaze — a little embarrassed by your own sincerity. 
he doesn’t know how to respond. you’re being strangely unpredictable, today, and it makes him feel unsure of himself. your tone is soft, almost friendly. he only ever hears it when you’re talking to shoko or geto.
not learning his lesson, gojo opts to tease you again. as always. afraid to let the silence linger for too long. it’s a halfhearted attempt, though, more of a vaguely amused huff than anything. 
”what, got a crush on me or somethin’?”
this time, you don’t scoff, or roll your eyes, or give him an earnest fuck right off. you only chuckle, in a way that almost borders on fond. you’re not one to tease, contrary to the boy on your left, but your words are teasing even still. ”i have better taste than that.” 
gojo should be irked, should grumble and bite back, but you don’t give him the chance to. 
”i just… you know,” you taste the words on your tongue. ”i still think you’re annoying. and childish.” gojo huffs, and your lips curl up. ”but i really don’t dislike you.”
you take a sip of the strawberry milk, before continuing, hoping it’ll make the words easier to say. ”… and it’s not like i know you, anyway. so i’m sorry for making a bunch of assumptions.” 
a pause. for a split second, you quiet down, a little flustered. gnawing on your bottom lip.
”… that’s all i wanted to say,” you exhale, gaze glued to your lap. feeling a heat on your nape.
as always, you can’t tell what gojo’s thinking. out of the corner of your eye, you try to catch a glimpse of his face, but you have a nagging suspicion that it wouldn’t tell you anything anyway. his eyes are hidden by those sunglasses, after all, acting as a wall between him and the rest of the world. so you don’t know if the words reach him, if they mean anything at all. 
but you hope they do. even as you brush cherry petals and non-existent dust off your lap, and get up to leave.
gojo just sits there, for a second, deep in contemplation. 
he tries to bury a certain thought, before it has a chance to reach his frontal cortex — before he has to accept that it exists. only this time, he doesn’t succeed. the words die before they reach his tongue, but he hears them, in his head. he hears them loud and clear.
and he flushes under the light of the sun.
(i don’t really dislike you, either.) 
what actually ends up leaving his throat is merely a scoff, so faint he doubts you even hear it. 
”whatever,” he mutters, hoping it’ll come across as cool and unbothered. it doesn’t.
one last smile reaches your face, before you head back inside. gojo stays behind, on the bench, lost in thought.
tossing the now-empty carton into a trash can, you try to calm yourself down. feeling oddly excited, as if you’ve reached something, the start of an eventual conclusion. something worth cherishing.
you still don’t understand satoru gojo. but you get the impression that you just grew a little bit closer to him. there are layers to him, more than what meets the eye, hidden behind those sunglasses of his. you can only imagine what the world might look like, from his perspective. what you look like, reflected in his eyes, a blur of colours and facial features, sparks and dots.
you wonder if the whole world looks like a painting, to him. 
you feel a little ashamed, for thinking you had him all figured out. a spoiled, self-centered rich kid, with no functional empathic abilities. it might be partially true, but you’ll have to reevaluate the statement. to see how well it holds up. you still don’t think his emotional intelligence is anything to gawk at, but you may have been underestimating it. it’s there, despite everything — in those eyes, in that single carton of strawberry milk.
you think there’s a certain maturity, there, in spite of his childishness. or perhaps the latter is no more than a product of the former, a way for damaged children to dress their wounds. the way he carries himself and the way he speaks both seem a bit forced. like he’s used to performing, used to moving in a way that demands attention. all eyes on him, at all times. 
you think that sounds just a little exhausting. 
even as you return to the safety of your dorm room, you still can’t help but wonder. there’s still so much you don’t know. despite the moment you shared, and the connection you think may be growing between you, he’s still so out of reach. almost lonely, in a way. you wonder what he looks like, when he’s alone, when there’s no one around to perform for. 
(what is an actor without their audience?)
and, despite everything, after all is said and done — you really, really don’t understand satoru gojo. not at all, not in the slightest. not one bit.
but you think you’d maybe like to.
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r3starttt · 7 months
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childhood friends to lovers hc’s | Vi
read this or DNI
an: first time writing for Vi, first time writing something after my loooong hiatus. Hope it’s good and sorry bcs it’s short af
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childhood bff!Vi who was super grumpy but became all sweet and bland whenever yo were around
childhood bff!Vi who always had time for you
childhood bff!Vi who adored hearing you ramble about whatever you had to say
childhood bff!Vi who surprisingly felt comfortable being weak with you, crying, talking about something that was bothering her, anything
childhood bff!Vi who knew everything about you and let you know everything about her
childhood bff!Vi who discreetly tried her best to spend time alone with you and hated powder for being the annoying little sister, mostly she stole the little attention you were already giving to her
childhood bff!Vi who had a nickname for you after being friends for a while but refused to let you know about it until someone mentioned it and she had no option but confessing what she did
childhood bff!Vi who’s nickname you’d given her was something ridiculous and not related to her at all but was somehow special for you and reminded you of her, a lot
childhood bff!Vi who would get extremely anxious whenever she’d make you mad or something (she’s not the most patient person ever) and would never know how to apologize or what to say/do
childhood bff!Vi who received lots of comments about how suspicious was her relationship with you. Who would also deny those comments until maybe they were right
childhood bff!Vi who knew the exact moment and reason where she fell for you and eventually let you know how special that memory was for her
bff to lovers! Vi who a hundred percent flirts with you in the most lame friendly way, she tries hard but her cocky personality doesn’t help to make it obvious that she’s into your
bff to lovers! Vi who’s obsessed with indirect kisses, wether is sharing food or a glass of water, she takes her chance every time
bff to lovers! Vi who loves having her hands on you, not too touchy but you’d find her hands somewhere in your body every time you’re with her
bff to lovers! Vi who stares at your body and makes comments about it, not necessarily about you looking hot or something like that but she has to let you know you look good and she’s noticing
bff to lovers! Vi who gets ridiculously weak whenever it’s about you
Imagine this scenario (hot girls have been there) where someone mentions something about you two and you’re like, omg eww no we could never date and she’s just like, haha yeah.
bff to lovers! Vi who would probably confess her feelings in the most stupid random way but would try her best to make it special for both (she knows you well enough to recognize it’s mutual and feels stupid for not seeing that before)
lover! Vi who’s the kind to look like she knows nothing and never pays attention but suddenly surprises you with something you mentioned once ages ago and it’s super special for you.
lover! Vi who takes special dates very seriously
lover!Vi who’s also the kind to forget those special dates
lover! Vi who ruins special moments with awkward stuff (gets visible flustered)
lover! Vi who loves being clingy and cuddling but never says it out loud, she just puts her body on yours, nibbling on your neck, wrapping you with her arms. you know what she wants
lover! Vi who smiles whenever she sees you
lover! Vi who learned to be the most patient human ever for you (fails, but she tries hard and that’s what matters)
lover! Vi who loves spending quality time with you
lover! Vi who’s obsessed with you, how you think, what you like, how you speak. She adores you.
lover! Vi who’s touchier than ever. Also, not discreet with how her eyes can now freely land on your chest or ass. You can be talking about whatever, be doing whatever, and her eyes are there.
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Text
"Listen." The villain grabbed the hero's arm. "I'm on a tight leash here."
The hero's mouth curled into a smile. "You mind repeating that?"
But the villain was quite serious, although their grip around the hero's forearm loosened.
"They will kill me if anything happens to you, you know that," the villain said.
"Womp womp."
The villain laughed hollowly and stared at the hero in disbelief.
"You're unbelievable."
Their nemesis had always been an incredibly unserious person - and an annoying one - but ever since the villain had been captured and assigned to protect them, it had gotten worse. Somehow, the villain couldn't blame them. The hero was, after all, a secretive person who didn't need any type of surveillance.
"I don't need a bodyguard," the hero said. They bobbed their head confidently. "I am not the best ranked hero in the entire city for nothing."
"Come on, don't be cocky now. I wouldn't be here if the agency actually believed that," the villain said and they meant every word. It was a kind of community service that was meant to reform the villain. Protecting people, watching the hero work - they assumed that was the goal of this entire operation.
However, the hero made it very easy to dislike heroes in general. They had a big mouth, viewed themselves as some kind of saint and (arguably) the worst thing above all: they also looked good while doing it.
The hero let out a big sigh and started stretching, followed by a yawn and a bored expression. It was clear that the hero wanted to fall into the bed of the shared hotel room and sleep until the afternoon.
"Little piece of advice?" They sat down on the bed. "Don't read too much into it. I doubt they know what they are doing themselves."
"They are in charge of internal security, they should know what they are doing."
"You think it's smart to put two nemeses in a hotel room with only one bed?" the hero asked. They wiggled with their eyebrows and all the villain could do was roll their eyes. "This agency is a real shit show and everyone smart enough should stay as far away from them as possible."
"I have no choice in that matter. You die, I die too. They will find a way to blame me. I'm supposed to jump in front of you when people shoot at you. I am nothing more than a human shield."
"Gorgeous human shield."
"I'm flattered," the villain said flatly. They took in a deep breath and let themselves fall next to the hero on the bed. They put their head in their hands and rubbed their face. If the hero continued to be reckless, if they continued to be so stupidly bold, the villain would start to feel the consequences pretty quickly.
"Don't be. I'm merely observing objective beauty."
"Ugh. Fuck off." The villain squeezed their eyes shut. They needed to think. If the agency was experimenting on them, the villain was meant to be the test subject which meant the agency wanted to control them.
The villain knew they had implanted a chip in them which tracked heartbeat and location. The only question now was: how was the agency going to kill them? Was the chip responsible? Was it something else?
"You're worrying so much, no wonder you are always so grumpy." The villain raised their head and before they could answer, the hero's hand was already on their back, delicate fingertips digging into sensitive spots. The villain bit back a moan and pulled back gently.
"Let's not...complicate things."
"Of course not," the hero said. "But honestly, don't break that head of yours trying to figure out their next plan. They won't kill you until absolutely necessary and I am very good at taking care of myself. So unless you are very incompetent - which you are not - you are good for now."
"For now," the villain echoed. They had to admit, the hero's fingertips had felt good on their back. They had never expected the hero to be capable of being serious enough to try comforting the villain. If it even was what they had tried to achieve.
As the villain looked at them, they couldn't help but concentrate on their jawline. On the darker colours of their eyes. Their fingers. Those damn fingers.
The villain hadn't recovered from that quite yet and they started to regret their words. They knew the hero flirted often, but they weren't sure how much of it was boredom and how much was real.
And even if something was to happen tonight, the agency would know about an increased heartbeat in the middle of the night in the shared hotel room.
Which in the worst case, they would interpret as a fight.
But it was more likely that they wouldn't.
The villain bit the inside of their cheek. Shit, they needed to concentrate. The hero always threw them off their game.
"Did they chip you?" the villain asked.
The hero pulled up their sleeve and very suddenly the villain realised that they had never seen this arm naked. And they understood why - the entire forearm was covered in scar tissue.
"The better question is: how many times did they try?" the hero said. They covered their arm quickly again and cocked their head. "The agency learns pretty slowly but they realised eventually I wasn't willing to play any games. When dumb people get a fraction of power, no matter how small, they will abuse it."
The hero had never been this serious before. Not with the villain. And the villain could do nothing but stare as the hero casually told them how much the agency truly sucked.
"It's inevitable. But when it comes down to it, who is stronger? Some written words on a paper or a true superhero? These people are just people and I was sick of listening to someone tell me where to go or what to wear or what to say or whom not to save. I wanted to save as many people as possible. And that's exactly what I am doing now. Without someone monitoring my body or actions."
"And yet, you're with the agency," the villain pointed out.
"I made a deal with them. I will play nice with them in public and in return...they are keeping someone safe for me."
"A lover?"
"I wouldn't share this bed with you if I had a lover. And I wouldn't say the things I say to you," the hero said. They stared at their own hands and the villain saw little scars all over them. Like a messily woven rug. "It's my sibling. Outside of the country, I didn't want them to grow up here. But...yeah. They write me every week."
The hero smiled but they didn't seem to be happy.
"I'm not allowed to write back. Ever. I know it's better that way, but...I know they will forget me eventually."
The villain didn't say anything. They had never thought the hero would tell them something like this. And they had never expected them to go beyond their cocky persona. It was a little more than strange to hear this from someone whose main priority was flirting during battle.
"Maybe it's hypocritical of me. To say all of this and yet I am working with them to protect my sibling and pretend to be on good terms with them, but for my family, I am gladly the sinner. I would become the enemy to protect them."
"That's very admirable," the villain said. And it was. It was impressive. It was horribly understandable, too. "You're very special, I hope you're aware of that. You're a good person."
And now, the villain couldn't really hate them anymore. They couldn't even find a reason to. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
They took in another deep breath and tried for the last time today to think clearly.
"I appreciate that you told me this. But I think it’s late and we both need some res-"
"I know, I know, darling. Take good care of my secret, though. Or I’m afraid I’ll have to kill your pretty ass," the hero said. They pursed their lips.
"You're welcome to try." The villain had to grin.
"Hm, tempting…not right now, though.” They leaned over and traced the villain's collarbone with their index finger. "Or the poor agency will think we are doing worse things than fighting. Those chips are scarily precise when it comes to counting beats per minute."
Great minds and all.
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wcbblife · 7 months
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can you do juju watkins or paige bueckers hcs
Juju Watkins & Paige Bueckers hc
Juju:
Juju is such a chill gf. That being said, she strikes me as a quiet and hidden jealous gf. Like if someone’s flirting with you she won’t necessarily go out of her way to make it known she’s jealous but her eyes tell the other person to piss off and when you ask what’s wrong she’ll hit you with a “Nothing’s wrong” (She’s so hot when mad yall).
Eye contact goes crazy. Her eyes are so sexy and she knows it and uses them to get what she wants from you.
Feel like she would secretly love when you take care of her after her games bc cmon, this girl scores double digits like they are nothing. She would just love for someone to tell her she did good and help with her recovery.
She remembers small details about you so she could spoil you later. Acts all nonchalant when you ask her how she remembers.
Def sleeps a lot to regain her energy. Girl is always sleeping.
Also, she looks sooo good when she wakes up. Like she’s groggy sure but (my idea) she def wakes up all tousled and her shirts are always too short and her eyes just tie it all together (my gosh) and she knows this.
Loves quiet and slow mornings because she needs to reserve all of her mental and physical energy for her games but she is not a morning person. When you wake her up for games, practice, or whatever she’s just so grumpy and lowkey mean but that’s nothing a cuddle session can’t fix
Although she’s not 100% against PDA and will wrap her arms around your waist every now and then, she would prefer to just hold your pinky in public or your hand under the table. It’s more personal for her and it makes her feel good and lowkey cocky.
However, once she’s a little jealous she will have both hands around you and will cling on to you with no shame.
After a fight, she can be so many ways. Like if it’s before a game I think she would go radio silent and just focus on her game because she's a perfectionist and doesn’t want it to affect her performance. If it was your fault she would be so quiet and distant because although it might not seem like it, she’s hurt. If it was her fault she would apologize after just a bit and would get you your favorite snacks (see the remembers the little things about you).
You guys first met in class after she asked for your notes because she was busy with her games.
Loves messy/sloppy make out sessions. Makes her feel so smug at the end. However, don’t get me wrong, it drives her crazy when you completely take control because she's not used to it.
Lowkey is very sassy but she controls it around you.
Loves to whisper some stuff in public (iykyk) and watch with the most devilish smile how you react because she finds it fun.
Paige:
Hands on your lower back, ass, and shoulder girl 24/7. Like she’s truly shameless.
Acts tough when you guys are public but is a complete baby when you two are alone. Like she wants cuddles, kisses, and to be cared for behind closed doors and TRUST she will be on top of you whenever you lay down with her in bed.
Finds it lowkey sexy when you give her sass right back at her. She will have the biggest smirk on her face and will definitely say “Yes ma’am” when you tell her to quit it.
I think she just loves when she can be chill after tough games with you. Brings her peace of mind to have someone to get home too who will help with recovery after her body takes beating after beating.
That being said, she probably makes her watch her games and acts all cocky when she makes a fancy layup.
Loves cheek and temple kisses bc I said so. Whenever she’s nervous about a big game, receiving/giving you kisses will always calm her down.
Likes creative dates (aquariums, wine, drawing, etc).
Loves to go to the library with you (ik it’s random but just go along with it) because it is a secret getaway for you and her. Loves to just be in silence with you and study because it truly calms her down.
Polaroids, polaroids, polaroids (especially spicy ones shhhh). Paige loves to keep pics of you because she takes them when she goes away for games.
Talking about away games. Paige will get so whiny when she’s away. Like she will call, text 24/7 when she’s away because being away from you is too much. (Ik this one is sad) but she will def call you before she falls asleep and falls asleep with you on call. It just makes it more bearable.
Once she’s back she will be attached to you like there’s no tomorrow. Get ready to be completely engulfed in bed and basically everywhere you walk.
Loves to see you wearing her clothes. Mostly because they are always too big on you and she thinks you look cute.
Hands around your shoulders when you guys go out to eat with the team but if you guys are too public she’ll settle for something simple like knees brushing or hand on your thigh beneath the table because it just makes her feel so exclusive and cocky. Especially seeing you react to it.
Basically mush after games and loves when you give her massages or just lay down with her. Falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow and you definitely tuck her in her in bed.
That being said, Paige loves to take care of you too and will make sure you are always happy no matter what bc happy wife, happy life.
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enden-agolor · 7 months
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Thingy I did for the Admins AU 🩵💚
Context:
Basically the context of this moment is it takes place a week or something after Jesse and Lukas get their powers. Lukas is far more contained with his. He controls them quite well but Jesse on the other hand.. struggles a *lot*. And the townsfolk see it too. They see how when Jesse gets high up in his emotions, he changes, and his irritation with not being able to control his powers only stresses him out and frustrates him more and that causes like the complete form shift and that puts Jesse through like, the worst stress imaginable. Is knowing he's changing in front of people and not being able to control it and he doesn't feel like the hero he once was at all. He feels like a monster.
Anyways there's a point in time where Jesse just doesn't show his face out in town as much because he's terrified of the judgement. He gets the same strange looks he did before he ever became a hero, back when he was a nobody, so he hides from those interactions. Well Lukas definitely notices, and he ends up taking Jesse out somewhere alone, just the two of them. He takes them both somewhere away from civilization, so Jesse can really practice his stuff.
The big thing that has Jesse losing control of his powers is all of his negative emotions towards himself, so it's definitely going to be a "love solves the problem" kind of deal. I like to think one of the big things they practice is Jesse's ability to fly and stuff, and Lukas, regardless of how much Jesse tries to find a different way, decides that the best way for Jesse to really learn is by letting him hold onto him. Because Lukas is a person with a fragile body that he *knows* Jesse would do everything in his power to keep safe. Jesse though, in his admin form, is very cocky despite his sad feelings so he's kind of a brat about it but Lukas is extremely patient with him, and uhh. Jesse reluctantly holds onto Lukas while he lifts up into the air. He's really huffy and embarrassed about it too because after that whole incident in the cave where Lukas took half of Jesse's powers so he could live, Jesse has developed an unimaginable crush on Lukas. Like he already liked him before but now he's sure he loves him, and he's scared of showing those feelings because of well, how he views himself now. So he's really scared of messing this up or making himself look like a fool in front of Lukas.
But! The plan kind of works, because Lukas talks to him while he flies and since Jesse is focused on his conversation and not his emotions towards the powers themselves, it eliminates that stress and has him calmy maintaining a steady control over his flight. And eventually they're just kind of lazily drifting over the landscape, Lukas holding onto Jesse, them both focusing on the scenery as the late evening arrives and the stars begin to shine.
At this time, Jesse is still in his full admin form, he's blue and his eyes glow an eerie turquoise. But eventually Lukas has him stop and Jesse and him come to a stand in the air, Jesse holding Lukas against him and they look at each other. Lukas tells Jesse that he's so proud of him, and to look and see how much he's grown in such short time. Jesse looks around and, though his face still looks so grumpy, he does realize that they've been flying for a long time with no mistakes.
They share some really kind words to each other, Lukas praising Jesse and Jesse very quietly mumbling his gratitude for Lukas and his patience with him.
And uhh for the first time since the cave, Lukas gives Jesse a nice sweet kiss. Jesse doesn't remember it in the cave. He doesn't remember Lukas kissing him, so this comes as a complete shock (he was suuuper out of it) but quite literally every ounce of negativity drains from his body and he slowly begins reverting back to his original self. In the picture he's still in his admins clothes, but his body looks normal, aside from the crazy messy hair which is an admin trait.
Anyways yeah this is the moment Jesse realizes he for sure loves Lukas. And that kiss, and the kind words they shared, immediately calmed him. But uh. They calmed him so hard that when they kiss again, they both actually start falling out of the sky, and Lukas falls away from Jesse's arms in shock and that's when Jesse gains full control of his flight ability and swoops down to grab Lukas up bridal style in his big strong arms.
Lukas is all like "my hero" (he has the ability to fly too, so he was in no real danger, but the moment caused Jesse to take action instantly and use his powers for good).
That alone helps Jesse realize that these powers *can* be used for good. He's still a big grumpy butt in this form, but he still is that same gentle and loving Jesse deep down.
643 notes · View notes
willowsnook · 5 days
Text
Friends don't sleep together (MV) 18+
max verstappen x friend!reader
warnings: smut
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"Coming," you shouted as you heard your doorbell ring. Applying one last coat of mascara you finished up before grabbing your purse off the counter and heading to the door. Your friend Lando was leaning against the back wall on his phone as you swung the door open.
"Ready?" he asked looking up.
"Do you think this outfit is fine?" You asked and he nodded.
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"Yeah, it's supposed to be casual," he said. The two of you headed out and into his car. His brand new car as he kept reminding you along with how lucky you were to be allowed to sit in it.
You had met Lando a couple of years ago as you lived in the same building and he introduced you to a lot of his friends including Max Verstappen, whose birthday party was what you were currently heading to.
You liked Max a lot, maybe a little more than friends if you would admit that to yourself. He was quiet but confident, intentional but not intense, and cocky but not arrogant. In a perfect world you'd be together, you thought. But he's Max Verstappen, and you're well, just you.
Instead of going out, Max just wanted to have a lowkey get together at his Monaco place. It was a penthouse condo that you loved getting to visit just for the view alone.
The get together was in full swing when you and Lando got there and you quickly found Max, drinking a G&T while talking to Charles.
"Happy birthday friend," you said walking up and Max's eyes lit up before pulling you into a hug. You heard Charles snort but ignored it.
"Thanks, y/n," he said in your ear, holding you a little longer. "I'm glad you could make it."
You heart fluttered as you pulled away smiling at him. Moving to give Charles a hug you missed the look he gave Max that had him blushing.
"Is Alex here?" You asked Charles and he nodded, pointing towards the outdoor patio. The cool Monaco air hit you as you stepped outside and greeted Alex who was talking to another girl.
"Y/n!" She squealed. "I missed you."
"I missed you too," you told her smiling. The two of you caught up about the last month as you hadn't seen her since F1's summer break.
"You want to hear something interesting?" She asked you mischievously.
"Always," you replied.
"So a couple of weeks ago I was talking to Rebecca and she told me that she had a friend that was really interested in Max," she started. "Gorgeous, wealthy, model, you know the type. They all went out after the race in Zandvort and Max would not give her the time of day. Completely ignored her all night along with pretty much anyone of our gender who tried to talk to him."
"Hmm, seems like he just wasn't interested," you said nonchalantly and Alex rolled her eyes.
"Or...he has someone else on his mind."
Alex was the only person you had told about your small crush on Max and it had came out after a long night of drinking way too much wine.
"We're just friends Alex, I value our friendship way too much to risk fucking it up," you told her and she huffed.
"You both are ridiculous, everyone knows you're into each other besides the two of you," she exclaimed and you laughed.
In your mind, Max had ample opportunities to confess his so called love for you and it never happened. Yeah, he was grumpy when you wore any other team's gear than Redbull, he always made sure to find you after a race, and he showed you a lot of physical affection but that's what friends are like.
The rest of the night was a blur as you kept drinking way longer than you should have been. You found yourself relaxed on a couch, resting your head on Max's shoulder as you watched everyone slowly pile out.
"Staying here?" Max murmured and you nodded. You got up, stumbling towards Max's room, him right behind to catch you if need be.
When you made it into the room you started unclasping the front of your shirt, your chest spilling out once you got the shirt off. Max inhaled deeply trying to look anywhere else once he got into bed. Meeting his gaze, you slowly pulled down your jeans, revealing the lace red thong you had picked for the night. His gaze burned into yours and you climbed into bed next to him, resting your hand on his stomach causing him to take a sharp breath.
"Y/n...." he whispered but you brought a finger to his lips, the alcohol taking over the driver seat of your brain completely.
"Let me give you one last birthday gift," you said and his eyes darkened. Dragging your hand down his body, his eyes squeezed shut as you palmed him over his boxers. Bringing your mouth down, you kissed his lower stomach, all long his underwear line until you finally pulled them down releasing his cock from it's restraints.
You licked a long stripe from the bottom to the tip, meeting his eyes as he watched you with lust.
"Don't tease," he breathed out and you smirked placing a kiss on the head. The sound he made when you finally wrapped your lips around him went straight to your core and his hand found itself tangled in your hair. You reached down to touch yourself as you bobbed up and down moaning on to him.
Max's breaths grew shallow and after a while he pulled you off of him, flipping the two of you so that he was hovering over you. His lips crashed on to yours his fingers moving under your panties.
"So wet for me schatje," he said pulling back from your lips and attaching his mouth to your neck, sucking harshly. You moaned, arching your back as he slipped a finger in you.
"I need you Max," you whined and he pushed off of you, pumping himself a couple of times looking a little unsure. "What?"
"You are drunk," he said. "I don't want to do something you'll regret."
"Trust me, I'm not going to regret this," you replied hazily and he nodded positioning himself at your entrance. You gasped as he pushed in, adjusting to his big size and he groaned into your shoulder. He started moving slowly, bringing his thumb to rub circles on your clit.
"I'm not going to last long," he rasped out and you wrapped your legs around him, driving him deeper as a response.
He set a bruising pace and you felt tears start to leak from your eyes as you clung around him, nails breaking open the skin on his back.
"I'm going to cum Max," you said and he brought his lips back to your neck while still pounding into you bringing you to your climax. You cried out, eyes rolling back as your orgasm crashed over you and you felt him grunt as he spilled into you.
Too tired to move, you felt him pull out to head into the bathroom. The bed dipped when he came back and you felt a damp towel along your skin as he cleaned you up. Throwing the towel off the bed he nestled in next to you, pulling you closer and you drifted off to sleep.
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You woke up to sun shining in your eyes and started to sit up before realizing two arms were wrapped tightly around you. You looked over to see Max snoring next to you and you didn't think anything of it at first because you had spent the night before. But where was your shirt?
You froze as the memories flooded back and you felt your eyes starting to water. Oh my god. You fucked everything up. Friends don't sleep together. Your sniffles caused Max to stir and you slipped out of his arms and climbed out of bed.
"What's wrong y/n?" He asked sleepily, sitting up to look at you. Turning to look at him, his eyes widened as he saw your wet face.
"What did we do?" You cried softly, moving around the bed to try and find your clothes. Taking your reaction as regret, his heart sank.
"Let me get you something else to wear for the ride home," he said with no emotion which ripped your heart in half. Wordlessly he handed you one of his tshirts which you slipped over your head before putting your jeans back on.
Grabbing your bag you made it to the front door and his hand reached out to stop you.
"Y/n.."
"I just can't right now Max okay? I'll see you later," you said walking out the door and wiping your tears.
This is exactly why you wanted to get over this stupid crush. You got too drunk and ruined everything and now he probably thought you were just another girl who wanted to hook up with the Max Verstappen. Dialing Lando's number you begged him to come pick you up.
------- 2 weeks later ------------
You had avoided Max like the plague for the last two weeks. He had tried to call you a couple times after but you declined, too embarrassed to face him. Lando was tired of you skipping social events because of Max which is why you were startled as he barged into your apartment that night.
Sitting on the couch in your pajamas you waited expectantly as Lando stood there crossing his arms.
"This has got to stop," he said and you rolled your eyes. "Get dressed, you're coming to dinner and we're ending this now. You both are being such freaks about this and everyone is sick of it."
"I'm sure no one is even thinking about me not being there," you grumbled turning back to your show.
"Not only is everyone noticing, but everyone is also having to deal with moody Max who is refusing to speak in any conversation or answer any questions about you," he ranted.
"See, everything is ruined." you said and grabbed your shoulders shaking you.
"Everything is ruined because neither of you will stop being pussies and just admit that you are in love with each other."
He dragged you to your closet pulling out something for you to wear and you begrudgingly put it on.
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Brushing your hair and applying a light layer of makeup you felt your nerves growing. Lando sighed, watching you.
"Look you have been miserable without him and he has been miserable without you," he said. "That should mean something right?"
"I know it logically makes sense Lan," you said sadly. "I just don't want to get hurt."
Arriving at the restaurant, you took a deep breath before following Lando in. It was just you two, Max, Charles, Alex, and another girl you didn't know that well. There were only two seats open at the table, one next to Charles and the other one was between Max and Charles. Lando practically sprinted to claim the one on the end, leaving you to slide in next to Max. He gave you a soft smile.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi," you replied nervously, breaking eye contact to look at the menu. The dinner went by smoothly but awkwardly. You avoided Max's stare, talking to Charles and Alex the whole time while he stayed silent. After a while, you pulled out of the conversation, turning to Max who was staring straight ahead.
"What's wrong?" You asked sighing, no longer caring about how things were. His eyes snapped over to you and he didn't say anything for a while before sliding out of the booth holding his hand out for you. The table was silent.
"Come on," he said and you stared at his hand before taking it, allowing him to pull you up and lead you out of the restaurant. You found yourself standing next to him, overlooking the water behind building. Turning to him you started.
"I'm sorry about that night Max, I was drunk," you said and he looked down to you.
"Why are you sorry?" He pressed. "Are you sorry that you were too loud when I was pounding into you? Or sorry that you didn't kiss me goodbye? Or sorry that you've ignored me for the past two weeks?"
Your face flushed at his crude words and you looked back over the water.
"Friends aren't supposed to sleep together," you muttered.
"You're right," he said and your heart sank. "I don't want to be your friend."
You felt your eyes water as you hung your head down. You were just about to walk away when you felt him grab your arm, pulling you into him. His other arm wrapped around your waist holding you into place.
"I don't want to be your friend," he repeated. "I want to be more than your friend. I want to be the person you see every night right before you close your eyes and every morning when you open them. I want you by my side at every race. I want to stop this madness of lingering around you, pretending that my heart doesn't stop everytime you look at me."
"Max," you said shocked looking up at him with wide eyes.
"I'm in love with you y/n," he said holding your face between his hands. "And I have been for a long time."
"Then why'd you let me leave?"
"You were crying like you had just made the biggest mistake of your life," he said and you huffed.
"Well you should have known.'
He laughed and brought his lips down to yours, meeting you for a sweet short kiss.
220 notes · View notes
rockstvrdotcom · 1 year
Note
Hey cutie!!! Can i request a s/o who has a cold looks, she has experience vibes, a cruel mouth with sharp words. But in bedroom, she's innocent and curious about everything as shit, that makes her partner super surprised and they want that naive just do for them.
I wish it for EJ, Toby plssssssss. 🥺🥺🥺 (With NSFW kinda yummy yummy 😋)
Oh anyway, I love your writing alooooooot, it's really gooood just took my heart away at the first line!!!! Kiss kiss kiss 💋💋💋💋
I'm your 💅 lovely anon. Nice to meet you!!!
oh em gee HIII NICE TO MEET U TOO MWAH MWAH THANK U FOR THE SWEET WORDS <33
while i was writing ej i was gonna say "he rolled his eyes" but then i remembered he has no eyes..
IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE AGSJDHSJS </333 FORGIVE ME NONNIE
tw/cw: praise, oral sex, unexperienced reader, fem reader, also just regular sex, slight spanking
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EYELESS JACK ☤
out of the bedroom, the words that come of your mouth are completely different from in the bedroom.
"shut up, jack" you spoke sharply, rolling your eyes. he tch'd in response. you were both watching a movie on the couch, his arm around your shoulder; and your arms crossed.
you acted like you hated the affection he gave you, but really— you adored him. that's why when a sex scene in the movie came on and you felt ej's hard on, you asked if he needed help.
"don't think of it as anything special, i'm just bored. that's all" you spoke, giving him a cold stare, your back facing him. you turned around, your cheeks flushed with a light pink color.
"yeah yeah, whatever" ej said, biting the inside of his cheek. he looked at your face, eyes admiring you. he cupped your cheek with his hand, and leaned in for a kiss. you kissed back, hands around his neck to deepen the kiss.
he then took you by the waist, sitting back down on the couch and straddling your hips onto his; the bulge in his pants rubbing against your crotch and his lips still connected with yours.
you pulled back from the kiss, looking at him with a slight hint of worry. "i.. tell me if i'm doing something wrong. i've never done anything like this before." you said, looking at him with innocent eyes. his eyebrows raised in suprise, then he gently nodded.
"you're doing great." he smiled slightly, his fangs slightly poking out. you bit your lip hard to hide your smile, trying to look grumpy at his compliment. suddenly, it was like the outbursts of rage, the scratches, and the hard glares were from a completely different person. your mean and cold facade was cracking— and ej wanted to get through to you completely.
you got on your knees on the floor, patting his legs as a signal to spread them; and he did. you hooked your fingers under the waistband of his sweats and boxers, pulling them both down just about enough so his cock could spring out.
you looked at his size, your mouth slightly agape. you contemplated if you could actually take him or not— he looked down at you with a cocky smirk on his face, causing you to scoff.
you got back to work, wrapping your hand around his dick and slowly jerking him off. you noticed his breathing became heavy, making you feel more confident as you picked up the pace of your hand.
you hand came to an abrupt stop; he looked down at you confused. "what happened?" he asked, resisting the urge to buck his hips up for more friction.
"c-.. can i lick it? like suck it i mean— you know what. nevermind." you tried to ask, but just turned your head away in embarrassment. you puffed out your cheeks in humiliation and narrowed your eyes. you were about to start jerking him off again, until he grabbed your wrist.
you turn your head to look at him. "you can do it." he said, encouraging you and twirling a piece of your hair around his finger. he grabbed you by the hair, bringing your face inches from his dick.
you cleared your throat, trying not to stare at his dick— that was literally right infront of you. you straightened your posture and placed your hands comfortably on his thighs.
you started off with little kitten licks— which jack thought was adorable by the way; then slowly progressed. and finally, your lips were wrapped around his dick, your head bobbing up and down and your fist jerking off whatever part you couldn't take into your mouth.
"mm.. fuck, you look so cute right now.." he purred, biting his lip as he smirked. you looked up and glared at him, only to have him tuck a stray hair behind your ear.
he thrusted his hips up into your mouth, making you gag as he hit the back of your throat. he did it again, and again— something about the way your throat clenched around him made his dick throb with need.
"fuck, baby— 'm cumming" he grunted, doing one last thrust into your mouth before releasing with his dick deep in your throat. you hummed around his dick, then sliding off with a 'pop' when he gave you the sign it was ok to.
"suprised you've never done this before, you're a natural." he joked, playfully punching you in the shoulder. you pushed his hand away, scoffing.
"oh shush." you said, gritting your teeth. he laughed. he pulled you up, making you stand on your feet. he swiftly turned you around then sat you down on his lap.
"so she's back to her old self huh? you remind me of the grinch." he poked at your puffed out cheeks. you slapped his hand away, cursing at him.
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TICCI TOBY ✽
he watched in amusement as you curiously roamed your hands over his bare stomach. "don't look at me like that." you demanded, and he scoffed. your eyes averted back to his torso, admiring his toned abs that were literred with all different types of scars.
"you're the one who has their hands all over me." he retorted. you couldn't see his face, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.
"just shut up, toby" you said, tracing his abs with your fingers. he chuckled at your actions. after a while, he took ahold of your hands so you couldn't touch him anymore
"hey, pretty, why dont 'cha just hop on my dick and ride me already? pleasee?" he begged. he noticed the change of expression in your face, you looked more flustered and serious.
"what's wrong?" he asked, his playful tone now replaced with a more stern one. he took a piece of your hair and played with it as he awaited your answer.
you avoided eye contact. "i- uh... i'm a virgin." you spoke, barely a whisper. you scratched your head in awkwardness, awaiting his response. you were still looking away
"what'd you say? i don't think i heard you correctly." toby asked, genuinely. you silently cursed him.
"i'm a virgin.." you spoke a little louder. you finally looked up at him to see him confused. then his expression brightened up, a confused laugh escaping his throat.
"why the hell are you laughing, asshole?!" you yelled, your embarrassment obvious on your face as you bit your cheek. he held his hand up to his mouth, trying to stop himself from laughing.
"nonono- i'm not making fun of you. i just didn't expect it! that's all. you seem like somebody who's experienced. no wonder why your so curious.." he reasoned, holding your chin with his hand. you muttered a 'whatever'. secretly, the thought of him being your first time made him throb.
"don't worry, sweetheart. i'll guide you." he spoke, and you weren't able to tell if he was mocking you or if he was being genuine. you sat up straight, starting to take off your clothes, one by one. now you were left in your matching lacy red bra and panties.
"shut up. i know what i'm doing, i'll do it myself." you voiced coldly. you roughly undid his belt, then his zipper. you looked up at him, and he nodded. you pulled his pants down, eyes roaming around; coming to a halt when you saw his happy trail peeking out of the waistband of his boxers.
your eyes drifted lower down, looking at the huge bulge in his boxers. you felt your wetness pooling in your panties, your pussy clenching around nothing and wishing it was toby. your clit ached to be touched, a whine almost escaping your throat.
"what? too big?" he said, making you look up. a cocky smirk was plastered on his face. you tch'd and palmed him slowly through his boxers, watching him automatically shut up and his face turn a little red.
you hooked your fingers under the elastic waistband of toby's boxers, pulling it down. you watched in awe as his cock sprung free; now you were really questioning if it was too big.
you were already wet, so you figured it'd be fine- and he fingered you before this. you climbed ontop of him, feeling his eyes watch your every move.
your palms were sweaty as you moved your panties to the side, aligning the tip of his dick with your entrance. you winced and bit your lip before lowering yourself onto him.
"fuck.." you heard him groan as your walls enveloped his cock. you looked up at him, his eyes blown with lust and cheeks lit up with pink.
"a- am i doing this right?" you asked, your voice shaky as you slowly rode him. he nodded.
"the only thing your doing wrong is not going fast enough." he complained, tempted to grab you roughly by the hips and bounce you up and down on his cock until you can't say anything but his name. and if you didn't pick up the pace, he was sure his temptation would take control.
you nodded profusely, leaning forward. you trapped his head inbetween your two hands, praying that whatever you do next will please him and not embarass you.
your chest was now against his and your lips were interlocked as you rode his dick, sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room.
he groaned, deepening the kiss. his hands gently held your waist, not guiding you but basically telling you that you were doing all the right things.
you felt his hand move up to your breast, then taking it into his hand and rolling your nipple inbetween his fingers. you moaned, but not once removing yourself from his lips. you clenched around him and felt him throb inside of you, making you whimper. he leaned back, breaking the kiss.
"you're doing so good— fuck you're so hot." he panted, leaning into the crook of your neck then leaving soft kisses along your jaw.
the room began to feel hotter than before— if even possible. short breaths escaped your mouth, your orgasm getting nearer and nearer.
you watched his jaw tighten, his groans coming to a stop; now only silent pants. his brows furrowed, seemingly frustrated.
before you could even say anything, his hands gripped your hips— hard enough that you knew it would leave a bruise.
next thing you were sliding up and down on his dick roughly, toby leaving no time for you to even catch a break as he knew he was close and so were you.
silent moans escaped your lips; sounds of your pleasure caught in your throat. he thrusted up deeper into you, his thrusts erratic and desperate.
he grabbed you by the back of your neck and made you lean down close enough to him that you could feel him breathing on your neck. he bit down hard as he let out a loud groan.
you cried out in pain and pleasure as you felt him release inside of you a few seconds after he bit you. your orgasm washed over you, tears blurring your vision as you moaned out his name in a whisper.
he thrusted up into you, the both of your riding out your orgasms. once you two became tired, you collapsed on him, your legs sore.
you felt a hand on your thigh, but your eyes were struggling to open. you felt soft kisses litter your temple and forehead, and toby's fingers pushing any cum that leaked out back into your aching cunt.
"goodnight, pretty."
2K notes · View notes
queen-of-the-avengers · 3 months
Text
My Hero
Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.2k
Warnings: none
Summary: You're sunshine and rainbows. He's darkness and rain storms. You brighten a room. He darkens it. Maybe that's why you two go together so well even if neither of you want to admit it.
Squares Filled: complete opposites (2021) for @lokibingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3
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This is the last box from the car which you’re grateful for. When you decided to go out shopping to redecorate your room, you didn’t expect to find a bunch of stuff on sale—more than you really need. Never mind that. You’re always happy to have trinkets that make a room lighter.
Tony graciously allowed you to live at the Avengers compound up north in exchange for your shapeshifting skills. You can shift into anyone and anything just by looking at them. You gain their DNA code through your almost x-ray sight, and you’re able to shift into them no matter how small or big they are compared to you.
It’s your specialty.
It took a long time for you to master your skills but you’re always learning something new about yourself. It’s why you’re at the compound. You get to live with living legends such as Steve, Wanda, Sam, Vision, and unfortunately, Loki. The only reason he’s on Earth is because he’s being punished for what he’s done in Asgard. You’re not sure of his crimes but it’s severe enough to banish him from Asgard even if it’s only for a short time. The agreement is that he’d help out with the Avengers until he’s learned his lesson whatever that may be.
The only issue is that you really, really, really don’t like him. It’s not enough to use the word ‘hate’ since you believe that’s such a strong word, but you can’t stand the man. Not only is Loki arrogant and cocky but he hates doing anything remotely helpful. He’s a nuisance most of the time and loves to get under everyone’s skin, especially yours.
It doesn’t help that you two are the complete opposite of each other. He’s a black cat while you’re a golden retriever. He loves being alone while you love being around people. He loves reading and staying in while you love going out. He’s grumpy most of the time whereas you’re all rainbows and sunshine (as he likes to put it). You’ve always been such an upbeat and bubbly person, and you’re not going to let someone like Loki dim your light.
The box you’re carrying to your room contains pink and frilly pillows for your bed along with some yellow curtains you fell in love with at first sight. It won’t keep the light out but it’ll give some color to your white-wall room. You enter your room and notice Loki standing on the other side of the bed looking through one of the boxes you brought in earlier. He’s such a dark contrast to your colorful room.
The walls might be white but you have rainbow lights strung up, pink and yellow picture frames, a blue-framed bulletin board filled with even more pictures of you and your friends, and other pops of color. Loki is the only thing that’s black due to the clothes he’s wearing.
“What are you doing in my room?” you ask and set the box on the bed.
“I’m looking for something.”
“This is only because I’m trying to rise above and be a better person, but what are you looking for? How can I help you?”
Loki pulls out something from the box he’s looking through with a frown.
“Really? Rainbow stickers and dreamcatchers?”
You storm over to him and snatch the items from his hands.
“How can I help you?” you repeat.
“I’m looking for the tape,” he smirks.
“Out of all the rooms you could have gone to, you thought my room was the best to go snooping around for tape?”
“You’re right.” Loki shrugs. “I just wanted to see where you keep your knickers.”
You scoff, grab the tap from your desk drawer, and shove it into his chest.
“There. You have tape. Get out.”
Loki doesn’t argue and leaves while laughing. You can’t help but glare at the spot he was just in. You hate violence despite what you do for a living, but you want to strangle that man sometimes. Push down the negative thoughts. Just focus on you. You put away most of your new decorations and shove the rest of them in your closet. It’s the weekend and there isn’t an active mission to go on so you think you’ll spend it relaxing by the pool and enjoying time to yourself.
You might like being around people but you enjoy time to yourself as well. You quickly change into your bathing suit and grab your towel before heading down to the pool. You pick a lounge chair that’s right below the skylight so that you can still be in the sun. You’re alone for maybe ten minutes before the pool doors open and someone walks in. You look through your sunglasses to see Loki walking in wearing nothing but black swimming trunks.
You roll your eyes and close them again with the intent of ignoring him. He jumps into the pool and makes a big splash in which water splashes on your legs. You have the urge to jump into the pool just to drown him but you keep trying to rise above.
“Come on, love, jump in. The water’s nice.”
“No. Leave me alone.”
Loki has never been good at listening to orders given to him or he does listen and chooses not to follow them. He continues to make noise in the pool to get a rise out of you but you will not sink low enough to give him what he wants. He continues to make noises for a good ten minutes before stopping completely. Finally, some peace and quiet. You smirk and look to the water thinking you have won this round but your eyes go wide when you see him lying facedown in the pool.
You scream and rush over to the edge of the pool. Your glasses had fallen off but you don’t care about that right now. You might not like Loki but you don’t want him dead. You reach in and grab his arm so you can pull him out of the water, and he flops onto the ground like a dead fish. You roll him onto his back and shake his shoulders in an attempt to wake him up.
“Shit, Loki, this isn’t funny. Wake up.” You push at his chest but he doesn’t budge. “Loki?”
One of your previous jobs was as a lifeguard for the public pool in your hometown which you needed to get CPR certified for. It doesn’t matter that you haven’t used it since that time, you still know how to administer it. You start chest compressions on Loki’s chest three times before pinching his nose together and blowing air into his mouth. Three chest compressions and blow into his mouth. You do this twice before going down for a third time.
This time, however, just as your lips touch Loki’s, he reaches up and places his hand on the back of your head to keep you there. He presses you more firmly on his lips and kisses you like you two are a couple. Your brain is working to catch up to the rest of your body and the second his tongue touches yours, it does. You quickly push Loki off you and jump to your feet.
“My hero,” he smirks at your flustered face.
“You’re an asshole.” You snatch your glasses and towel before storming over to the doors. “I hope you drown next time.”
“Oh, come on, love. I was joking,” he laughs.
You want to be mad but the only thing you can think of is stupid Loki with his stupid face and his unbelievably soft lips.
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postersofleon · 10 months
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all of the different leons (video games)
re2 og:
he is terribly cocky. he struggles to let you do things without him, but you always show him you can. this fucking loser fell in love with you in the first sight, he feels holding hands are for losers, but the idiot cups your face. he wants to a manly man, a typical alpha bullshit, but he turns into a puddle when you kiss his nose. very defensive of you. he wishes to be you scary dog privileges, but he often times forgets he is too pretty. if you accidentally do something like, really stupid, he is still on your side even if you are wrong. very over dramatic, "do you even love me?" you know he is just asking you this to annoy you. like this isn't him being insecure. he just loves attention.
re4 og:
still cocky as hell. he is annoying as hell. he is always trying to make you laugh. you listen to his music as he drives his car. he tries to have you in his lap, but you always get off... for reasons. (he is always touching you and muttering dirty jokes) squeezes your butt if you are too close to him. your legs are on top of his while you sit together. if you are peeling an orange, he opens his mouth, and you give it to him. loves to talk shit of others with you.
basically, this is him and you (the one that matches your vibe)
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re6:
he is a bit more mellowed out from how he started. he is silently begging for touches. he looks all serious and shit while having hugging you. he likes you playing with his hair while at home. he is grumpy as hell around all people, but you. you try to take away his alcohol, he rolls his eyes, but he kinda stops (when you are looking). he doesn't really mind your head resting on his shoulder. he is very silent but very loving. he wants to break up with you because he feels too broken, but you are helping him.
re2 remake:
not to baby him, but he is lovely. he is very kind and respectful. for him, it took time to fall in love, and it's fine. huge difference from re2 and re2 remake; leon remake trusts you more with yourself. he knows and trusts. leon holds hands. he slowly opens himself to you, and this fool blushes when he kisses your cheek. it's completely puppy love. he speaks in such an enamored way. leon hates it when you put your cold feet on his back, but he's your human heater.
re4 remake:
clingy as hell in private. if he is far from you, he immediately hugs you and raises you a bit as he twirled you around his arms. but once people come along, he tries to relax, though he is still clinging. leon is a silent person who makes quips every once in a while, he noticed how much you like them, and he smiles. if you suck at hiding your facial reactions, leon does too, so you two accidentally look like a judgment couple. you sometimes steal his chapstick, but he doesn't mind.
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unholyhelbig · 10 months
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Part three of loan shark natty
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Title: The Oversight [Part 3/7]
Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff
Wordcount: 3465
Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, guns, blood, death, sort of dark nat if you squint, horrible grammar
[A/n: If you guys haven't picked up on it yet, this will be slow-burn. Also, thank you so much for the positive response to this story, it means so much!]
[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]
Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests
It had been two weeks since the incident that you had deemed ‘the business proposal’, though, if you were being honest, you knew exactly what it was. The bruising against the side of your face, fading from a deep dark purple to an ugly muddy brown reminded you of the encounter. The faster you healed, the more your nerves started to prickle dangerously.
Each time the brass bell above the diner’s door would ring, your eyes would flick to the entrance. With bated breath, you’d study the tired businessman, the English major running on nothing but burnt coffee, or the single mother just looking for some reprieve. Much like yourself.
Clint Barton was the last person you expected and wanted to see. He was certainly the last person you wanted to see, despite the sheepish smile on his face. There was shame etched into his features and a strange softness to his eyes that starkly contrasted the man who had nearly broken your jaw.
His hair was sprinkled with droplets of water, a sweatshirt dotted from the persistent drizzle that seemed to plague the city. He dutifully wiped his feet on the mat and made his way over to you. Instead of his usual booth, Clint sat on the last stool and scratched the stubble on his chin.
He glanced at the menu as if he were going to order something different than his usual. Maybe he wouldn’t order anything at all. But, you had a feeling you weren’t going to escape the conversation at the tip of his tongue, nor the obscenities at the tip of yours.
You poured him a cup of coffee and set it in front of him without being asked. Clint could swallow down a whole pot of extra caffeinated without a second thought. For now, you urged him to pace himself silently.
“You got a couple of minutes?” He asked behind the rim of his cup.
The diner was mostly empty. It was the middle of the workday and had been a slow four hours thus far. There was only so many times you could wiped down the same table and replace the salt in the shakers.
The cook made eye contact with you as he poured alcohol from his flask into off-brand orange soda. You got a short shrug in response. Otherwise, the place was empty. Clint had timed his arrival perfectly.
“Sure. You’re not going to beat the shit out of me again, are you? Those cameras aren’t hooked up, but this is still a public place.”
“Look, I wanted to apologize for that. Bad information breeds bad reactions. I was doing what I was told. You’ll learn that that’s the only way to get anywhere in this practice.”
He stated it plainly as if you weren’t silently inducted into a criminal ring. You weren’t exactly sure what they did but if it was half as bad as what they’d done to you, it was trouble. Clint could sense your unease. He placed his mug down and lifted a bandaged eyebrow.
“Hold your grudge, y/n. I sure would. Natasha simply told me to collect you after your shift. So, you can sit here and glower at me like a grumpy little monster or you can make conversation and we can become friends.”
You hated how good the second suggestion sounded. He was charming in an annoying type of way. You’d never clicked with anyone in the diner before, certainly not the only other employee that stood behind the grill.
Clint was staring at you like he knew you’d already folded. He covered his smirk with another sip of coffee. You wanted to wipe the cocky grin off his face. He had effectively taken a shot at you, that much was true, but you had crumbled just as easily under Natasha’s wishes.
“Friends is a stretch.” You sounded out.
“Acquaintances, then.”
You conceded with a small nod and Clint smiled in a way that could only be genuine. He swallowed off the rest of his coffee and made small talk with you as you hustled around the restaurant. There was a small rush after classes at the community college let out. But you were able to carry on a conversation, learning a little more about him.
He’d been friends with Natasha for a long time. That much was clear by the way his eyes crinkled along the edges when he’d recall memories that stretched past their current affairs and into childhood.  
“We met when we were twelve. I’d just moved to town and was this scrawny, awkward mess of puberty and acne. An easy target is what I’m saying. A lot of neighborhood boys would target me, but I was faster than them. It usually worked in my favor, but there was one day when it had just snowed and it was impossible for me to get any headway.”
Clint regaled you as you filled up his mug for the third time. You lingered behind the counter, chin on your hand as you listened intently.  
“Six of them cornered me at a construction site. I didn’t even know how to begin to fight back. I was beaten close to death and then I heard Nat. She ran head-first into danger, tried to take on every single one of them. Of course, she got the shit kicked out of her too, she was just a kid there was no way for her to win. But that didn’t’ matter because she got back up every single time. Eventually they got cold, or bored, probably both.”
You didn’t want to admit that you were impressed. “Shit, that’s quite the meeting.”
“She’s tough, y/n. Not someone you want to fuck with.”
“So, this is a warning, then?” You smiled.
He shrugged his shoulders “A cautionary tale.”
He drove a 1970 Dodge challenger that smelled like cherry leather polish. It was the nicest car you had ever seen, that is, until he pulled up the iron-gated mansion on the outskirts of the city. There was a brilliant view of the harbor, the water a deep and dark blue that seemed endless, an orange sun casting delicious shadows against the docks.
The house was brick, built in a southern style with a large wrap around porch and a stone fountain in the center of a circular gravel drive. It was three stories of decadence, surrounded by large oak trees and the deepest green grass. This was the home of a Politian, or of someone who had one under their thumb.
Three black SUVs were parked in tandem outside. An equally pitch Corvette Stingray was parked directly in front of the steps. You struggled to muffle the thoughts of Natasha in the front seat. The vehicle suited her, and while you most certainly were not a car person, you knew the value of a ride like that.
Clint squirmed with pride, that same smile on his face. It was one that often accompanied him, you’d learn. He took the steps two at a time and waited to open the doors until you’d caught up. He removed his jacket and draped it over the coat rack just by entryway. You, however, were preoccupied by the elegance of the home.
The floor was a checkered black and white, stretching all the way down a corridor to open storm doors, letting in a crisp spring warmth. Light danced against art that cost more than your entire apartment building. White stairs clung to the wall and curved to the second floor. To your left, a dining room. To your right, a living area that had the softest white carpet, and a cream grand piano that your fingers twitched to run over.
There was a sour scent of bleach that reached your nose, and it was only then, did you realize the blood. It was distilled, a quiet pink color, that had been diluted by diligent scrubbing. The girl, the one that was often at Clint’s side herself, was on her knees a few feet away.
She held a scrub brush that looked like the ones used to clean the grout at the diner. Her forehead was damp with sweat, a few stray strands of dark hair falling into stormy gray eyes. The front of her shirt was stained in the majority of the blood. You failed to see how she would have much to clean from the floor. Yet, the bucket of water next to her was a frothy mess of red.
“An hour,” Clint tsked, shaking his head “I left you alone for an hour. I specifically said that I was coming back with a guest, and it was imperative not to freak her out.”
“I’m not freaked out.”
You were absolutely freaked out. But you were quick to realize whose home you were in. The scrubbing of a crime scene was startling, and you wanted to turn tail and run. However, you had seen worse before and your life had been spared once. You weren’t going to get squeamish now.
“You sound freaked out.” Clint turned his attention back to the girl “And its bad manners. If I were the police?”
“You wouldn’t have gotten through the gate.” She stood, dropping the brush into the bucket with a defiant splash. She was taller than you thought, the deep red of her collar harsh against her skin. There was a smile on her lips, and she reached out a hand to you. “I’m Kate.”
“This is y/n and she’s not going to shake that.” Clint batted Kate’s hand away “Who was this?”
Kate rolled her eyes. It was an action that you yourself would never do. Clint may be a bit aloof, but you had seen him in action. Namely when he was three seconds from snapping the bones in your face. She had no fear of him, though. There was a cockiness, a charming attention, to her stance. He didn’t’ seem to mind, or he had gotten so used to her attitude that seeped into him instead.
“I don’t know. Yelena brought them in. If you’re so concerned about the mess, maybe you should take it up with her.” There was a grin that mirrored Clints. She knew she’d won. “I can go get her if you want.”
“No need. Where’s Nat?”
“Out back by the pool. It’s a lovely day.” She leaned close to you, smelling of cleaner, of tin and of the slightest bit of chewed mint. “It’s great to meet you, y/n.”
You were careful not to lose your footing on the slick floors. Clint nudged the bucket with his toe as he walked by, sloshing about the soiled water. Kate cut him a look that only you saw, but it was one that was almost playful. She shook her head and went back to her task.
There were two things you had picked up from the conversation; Clint was afraid of Yelena, and there was somewhere soundproof in this house that she had taken someone that had lost a lot of blood. You shoved both thoughts to the back of your mind when you exited onto the back porch.
Natasha was stretched out like a cat in the sun. She wore a black bikini that left very little to the imagination. You could feel the blush against your cheeks as you averted your eyes to anywhere else, though, you swore she arched her back from the chair at the sound of your footsteps.
Her hair, still slightly damp, was cascading down her shoulders. She wore a pair of sunglasses, a book that was marked halfway through rested on the table next to her. She had clearly given up on reading, instead fully devoting herself to the sun.
Clint didn’t acknowledge her current state, nor did he have an adverse reaction to it. Your mouth was dry, and you shoved your hands into your jeans to keep them from trembling. It was a mix of fear and attraction that caught you off guard on a mostly empty stomach.
She moved her glasses down the expanse of her nose as you approached. Her stare was a startling green, raking across your form. She quirked an eyebrow. The specter of a smile on her face. Clint had noticed something you didn’t, his body language changing into something unreadable.
“y/n,” Natasha purred your name. You fought back a shiver. “You’ve healed nicely.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“ma’am? What manners you have. That’s severely lacking around here.”
Clint rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut. You did the same, partly out of fear. But mostly, you were distracted by the scars against her stomach, on her arms and down her back. It wasn’t something you had noticed at first, nor did you permit yourself to stare. Whatever had been done to you when they’d first taken you was nothing compared to what Natasha had been through. Her body told a story, one that you longed to learn.
“Hey sharpshooter,” She turned her attention to Clint “I think Yelena might need your help downstairs. Y/n. Stay.”
It was a clear dismissal, and one that he didn’t’ take lightly. He patted you on the shoulder before entering the house once more. You listened to his footfalls for a few moments, holding your breath until you started to feel your vision falter.
You’d been alone with Natasha before. But this felt different. Heavier. The questions that you’d had these last two weeks were meant to be answered. She gestured for you to sit on the opposite chair, which you did carefully, body tightened to make yourself as small as possible. She removed her glasses entirely, a strand of russet hair falling into her gaze.
“You’re going to quit your job at the diner.” She said.
“I can’t do that,” Your response was automatic.
Natasha sat up, placing her bare feet adjacent to yours. Her knees were pressed against your own. She easily could have pushed your own open and she stared at you as if she contemplated the fact herself. Instead, she lilted her head and peered at you.
“What I mean, ma’am, is that’s my livelihood.”
“Oh, I understand. I wasn’t perfectly clear. You work for me, now. You’re on my payroll. I’m sure it’ll be quite an upgrade.” She leaned closer. “Do you know what I do, y/n?”
You swallowed hard and shook your head. There was an inkling. But it was just speculation. Someone with a home like this had a good handle on business. Natasha certainly conveyed fear, and commanded respect. So did the people who worked for her, willing to take a bullet in moment’s notice.
You weren’t there yet, but you were sure with a little persuasion, you would be. Part of you had felt slighted. They’d pulled you from your life, from your daughter, and threw you into this without any type of explanation.
“The harbor behind you is a center of trade. Whoever controls the harbor controls the city, and for generations my family has had a monopoly when it comes to what comes in and out. There is not a single freight that can dock here without getting past me. Recently, that’s been threatened.”
She sighed and worked a hand through her hair. Her stare flicked past your shoulder, focused on the expanse of water that had been a staple in your life. You’d walk along the docks, chat with the vendors on the way to work. It seemed like a friendly place.
“There are two prominent families in this city, Y/n. The Romanov’s and Danver’s. For the past three years they’ve been pushing back against the real leadership, getting creative. Looking for change. But we simply can’t allow that to happen. Things work as they are.”
You had a feeling that this was the core of her beliefs. Things how they were weren’t so bad. Each person had their own struggles but when it came to integral crime on the streets, in the boroughs, you hadn’t noticed anything and that was the way you liked it. Ignorant, maybe. But it was none of your concern. Not until now.
“A lot of people work for me, but my numbers are dwindling. It’s hard to find good help anymore. You know how it is.”
You didn’t.
“There’s something… in you that I admire. A perseverance to live and protect and you’re going to do exactly that for me.” Natasha stated this plainly. “The Winter Soldier will be predisposed. Not permanently. But I would like you to replace him.” 
There must have been disbelief written across your features because Natasha laughed, actually laughed, as your jaw fell open. It was a lovely sound; you must admit. Bucky was well known in the neighborhood. Even without being knee deep in mafia sludge, you had heard of him. You feared him. And the thought of stirring the same reaction seemed unattainable.
“I… what about Clint?” You asked dumbly. He seemed like the natural choice.
“He’s got his hands full with an heiress who, I’m sure you can tell, is a bit aloof. But extremely valuable. Much like yourself.” She quirked an eyebrow “if it’s experience, you’re worried about, don’t be. I’ll train you myself.”
She stood and tapped your leg with her fingers, arousal shooting straight to your core at the slight contact. Your body almost refused to move, but you were quick to snap out of it when she smiled wolfishly down at you. “Now, have you ever killed anyone?”
Your voice was pinched. “No.”
“We’ll have to change that, darling.” She started to saunter away, grabbing her silk cover-up from the back of a nearby chair. She slid it over her shoulders, and it hugged her form with just enough ferocity as the bathing suit. “Come, dear. I have just the person in mind.”
The basement was significantly cooler than the rest of the house, bathed by the sun. As you descended the stone steps, you fought the urge to smooth your fingers over your skin to quell the frigid air.
Natasha seemed unbothered. She led you into a large room that you assumed was soundproof. It was a fairly empty room, lit with artificial bulbs that reminded you much of the warehouse they’d kept you in for the weekend. This seemed more malicious though. Not something to extract information exactly. A form of punishment.
A man was strung up from a low hanging rafter, his feet barely touching the ground. Rope was tied around his wrists, his hands above his head. Blood dripped like syrup from his lips, from a wound against his side. His left knee looked unnatural and broken.
You fought back a groan at the sight, at the smell of him. One eye was swollen shut, his fingers curling when he noticed Natasha’s presence.
Clint’s back was to you, his fingers dancing over an array of tools. He hummed a Metallica song, stopping at a pair of pliers. Yelena had her arms crossed over her chest, walking a slow, predatory circle around the man.
“No,” Yelena took the pliers from Clint “He will need his teeth to talk.”
Your throat tightened. This was the same woman who had sat next to your daughter in the diner. The one who had complimented her art and your job at raising her. She was easy to have conversations with, charming in the purest sense.
She turned towards both of you. “Natasha, you shouldn’t wear open toed shoes here. It is unsanitary.”
The woman next to you was not admonished in the slightest. Not by the cold or the harsh words of Yelena. Instead, she studied the man in front of you. He was in rough shape. If he hadn’t talked yet, he wasn’t going to. That much was clear.
This felt like the first time you served without following around an older, more experienced waitress. Your fingers were trembling and there was a wild nervousness that was in the pit of your stomach. Eventually, you learned, and it was second nature. You wondered if that’s what Natasha wanted. For you to learn not to cringe away from things like this. Just like the Winter Soldier.
As if to prove your thought process, Natasha said “Which one of you has your gun?”
They both pulled them out of various places at the same time, without hesitation, to the question. It made sense that Natasha didn’t have a weapon on her, not with the outfit that she walked around in. The cover-up was too tight against her skin, too revealing.
Yelena was closer, so Natasha grabbed the weapon from her. “Have you ever shot a gun before?”
“I have.”
Your second foster father was a deputy sheriff in Minnesota. On half-frozen nights, he’d return home from the local bar reeking of sour alcohol and sweat. The door to your bedroom would creak open and he’d drag you from bed, barefoot and in your pajamas.
Most of the time, he had cans set up on an old picnic table that had rotted through. At first, it was your job to set the cans back up and fight off hypothermia. But after three or four sleepless nights, he taught you how to shoot. His body was warm against your back and the first time the gun kicked you had nearly broken your nose.
You considered yourself a good shot when it came to cans, wild turkeys, and even the occasional buck. This was different. This was a human being that was taking in heaving breathes and fighting to pull himself up to give his bad knee a break.
“Do you know how to aim?” Natasha asked.
“It’s been years.”
“Okay,” She breathed.
You flinched when she moved behind you. Her warmth was all encapsulating. She smelled of sunscreen, and vaguely of the salt of the ocean. Natasha’s fingers pressed against your hip, giving you a small squeeze, signaling for you to take a step back.
Her other hand dropped the pistol into yours, heavy and warm. Her hand trailed up your arms, giving you goosebumps, fingers tightening around your own until you held the gun towards the man. The stranger.
Natasha’s chin was on your shoulder, her breathe hot against your cheek. Her voice came out in a whisper. “Right there. When you’re ready.”
She’d aimed the tip of the gun directly between his eyes. You could hear your heartbeat in both ears, vibrating through your body. It wasn’t hesitation, exactly. In this moment, it was his life or yours. Clint and Yelena watched you carefully, with intent.
You took a deep, shaking, breath and clenched your eyes before pulling the trigger. You expected some sort of blow-back. The same throbbing pain that you recalled from shooting at the cans. The scent of gunpowder mixing with cold.
None of those came.
Instead, there was a small click. The safety was on, and though you had squeezed the trigger with the intention to kill, it simply did not fire. You inadvertently slumped back into Natasha and the hand on your hip snaked around your middle, holding you close.
“You won’t have to kill often,” Natasha explained “But it’s good to know you’d do it without question if I tell you to.”
“Oh, Natasha, do not play with her. It is not nice.”
Smoothly, Natasha worked the gun from your hand and switched the safety off before you could blink. She fired two shots in succession, not releasing her hold on you. Your ear was ringing and the man in front of you slumped in his bindings.
“Okay. Very effective. You owe me bullets.” Yelena took her weapon back. “You are cleaning this up.”
“That means I’m cleaning this up.” Clint said.
Natasha hummed in agreement, finally pulling herself away from you. “I think this a job for two, don’t you, y/n?”
There wasn’t room to disagree with her. Not when you could only hear out of one ear, your skin still buzzing from her lingering touch. You could have sworn you felt her own heartbeat against your shoulder blade.
 But you’d never bring that up.
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buckyalpine · 2 years
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Heeey sweetie ! I hope you’re well !! I always look forward to your posts and check your page daily for updates ! Your writing is incredible and always leaves me with butterflies in my stomach !! I wanted to leave a request if that’s okay ! I was thinking about mob Bucky with grumpy-sunshine trope !? Bucky being the grumpiest little shit ! He’s arrogant and stares too much . But then he meets this ray of sunshine and she’s the only one to get him soft ! She’s the only one that can coax a smile out of him ! Gives her the gentlest touches and sweetest kisses ! He’s proud to have her next to him and loves how much smaller she looks compared to his massive size . Even tho he’s dominant in bed , he’s still careful and considerate with her ! Fluffy fluff with a big intimidating man
YESS Omg i love this so much its adorable. (18+, cause there’s fluffy fluff but also smutty smut) 
Disclaimer: I love fics where Bucky loves his much smaller reader compared to his larger size but I do my best to not describe the readers size too much because I want anyone to be able to imagine themselves in my fics. When I write, Bucky is obsessed over how he can just easily scoop you up into his arms and toss you over his shoulder effortlessly. 
First time meeting you I just imagine you both meet in the most wholesome way as well. He's truly the grumpiest shit anyone's ever met. Arrogant and cocky but he’s earned his reputation so no one dares question it. That being said, he has some principals, one of them being that family always comes first. He takes that very seriously. That's why he's out and about, looking for a present for Sam’s daughter’s birthday, hand picked himself (and by present, we’re talking presents plural, he already bought her a custom gold engraved locket and an Hermes baby blanket, no godchild of his would get any less).
Still, he wanted to give her more, wandering into a little book shop at the corner of the street that appeared to be empty. His men stood outside the door while he scanned the shelfs, huffing in frustration because there were so many choices and it would have been easier to just buy the all the books. He picked up a book and set it down, the store probably wouldn’t cost too much- 
"Can I help you?"
A sweet voice called him from behind and Bucky was ready to give the person hell, he hated sales people. Most people. Honestly all people. Except Steve. He'd maybe pee on Sam if he was on fire but that was as far as his love for him went. (its all a front, he loves Sam).
He turned around, about to tell whoever it was, to fuck off, blinking instead when he came face to face with you. You smiled up at him, eyes twinkling, setting down the pile of books you had in your arms to look at the shelf he was browsing. 
“What age group are you looking for?” 
Bucky hardly registered your words, staring at what looked like the human form of a cute little garden fairy straight out of a fairytale. You were in a blush pink sundress, covered in tiny flowers, standing on your tippy toes trying to reach the books higher on the shelf. Garden fairy, what the fuck was wrong with him, he shook his head trying to regain his train of thought. 
“Uh- a baby?” Bucky didn’t know what to do with himself, most people took his  staring as a sign to go away but you seemed unbothered. 
"Oh! Come with me, there’s a great section at the back, I’ll show you!” You happily led the 6′4 mob boss to the kids corner at the back of the store, colorful drawings, plush rugs and little bean bags covered the area. 
“Any of these would be great for a little one” You pointed to the shelves that were low to the ground, pulling out a few and handing them to him “let me know if you see anything you like” with that, you went back to putting books away. You returned a few minutes later, biting back a smile, looking at the tall man covered head to toe in dark ink, diligently reading through one of the books you handed to him. 
"You look so cute" You giggled, looking at Bucky sitting on one of the tiny chairs, his long legs sprawled out in front of him. 
"Cute?" Bucky had never been more insulted in his life, of all things to describe him, how dare you tell him he looked cute. 
“Of course” You grinned as you walked over and sat down beside him. The gentle sweet scent of your perfume evaded his senses, his heart jumped when he felt your warm hand brush against his. Bucky didn’t know why his heart was racing, he didn’t like it. His brows furrowed, trying to stop the blush that spread across his face when he saw your smile. 
“Do you like that one?” Bucky nodded, looking at the cover of the book; two bears sitting together looking at the moon. “I love you to the moon and back, its such a sweet book, I would have picked this one too” 
Bucky nodded again, not trusting himself to speak around you. You took the book to the front to check him out. After he paid, you placed a little brown bear that matched the ones on the book cover in the bag as well. Bucky cocked his head confusedly, reaching for his wallet again. 
“How much?”
“Just take it as part of the gift” You smiled, tying a ribbon around the handles of the bag. “I’m sure they’ll love it. Have a good day!” You gave him a little wave as he walked out, turning back to your books, while Bucky felt his insides melt. 
The pretty girl at the book store thinks I’m cute.
Bucky slid into his SUV, the corner of his lips twitching, his cheeks dusted pink. You thought he was cute. Cute. He continued to bite his bottom lip, fighting with his face muscles to keep from smiling, failing miserably instead. 
“Is he having a stroke”
Sam whispered, staring at Bucky through the rearview mirror while he sat at the front with Steve. Bucky’s face continued to twitch, trying to keep his classic scowl on his lips. 
“I think he’s smiling” snorted, cocking an eyebrow watching Bucky carefully inspect the little brown bear you put in the bag. 
“He knows how to smile?”
“You good punk?” Steve called out, smirking when Bucky stuffed the bear back in the bag, pretending he wasn’t giving it heart eyes while thinking about you. “You looked real cozy talking to the girl at that the bookstore” 
“Shut up” He ignored his two friends snickering, throwing them a growl before thinking about you again. 
She thinks I’m cute. 
After that meeting, imagine Bucky finds himself going back for more and more books; he doesn’t even have time to read but he can’t help it. Every time he steps into your bookstore, its like sliding into a comfy blanket. He’s addicted to your sweet smile; your always there with a new book for him to read. He can’t help but smile every time he sees you flit around the shelves, he felt like he was living in his own fairytale. 
The first kiss
Bucky watched you huff in frustration, trying to put a book back on the shelf but it was too high for you to reach. 
“Um-could-would you please help me put this back?” You asked shyly, while Bucky smiled, nodding and coming up behind you, his hand gently holding your waist, placing the book on top with ease. His tall form towered over you, his chest brushing against your as you turned and looked up at him. 
“Th-thank you” you whispered, your eyes flicking from his blue eyes to his pink lips. His lips were curved in a soft smile that gave you butterflies; it wasn’t often that you saw him smile but it seemed he did it whenever he was close to you. 
“You look handsome when you smile” You squeaked, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as the words slipped through. Bucky bit his lip, while you looked away embarrassed you had said that out loud. “Sorry I didn’t mean-” 
You gasped, feeling him pull you closer, his hand gently tilting your chin up to look at him. His head dipped down slightly and you felt your body moving on its own, standing on your tippy toes to be closer to him. 
“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his nose nudging against yours. You nod, letting out a shuddered breath as his hand cupped your cheek, pressing his lips sweetly to yours. You hesitantly moved your arms to wrap around his shoulders, melting into his touch. 
You didn’t know how much time had passed, staying tucked in his arms, having waited ages for him to finally make a move. When he finally has to leave, he comes running back in mere seconds later. 
“Did you forget something?” 
Bucky nodded, his hands wrapping around you waist, pulling you close to him again, his lips kissing you softly as ever. 
“I wanted another kiss” 
That kiss turned into lots of kisses. Lingering hugs. When he finally brings you to his home, he keeps you his little secret for a while so he can enjoy your company. You bring out a softness in him he didn’t know was possible; soft fluffy dates with him cooking for you, or going on evening strolls. You’re his everything, he loves seeing his little garden fairy comfy in his home. You made everything warmer; the soft scent of candles always traveled down the halls; sweet baked goodies were always ready in the kitchen. Sam and Steve were definitely not complaining, pretending they didn’t notice Bucky’s classic grumpy face now also came with a cute little blush on his cheeks. 
The first time they meet you 
Imagine Bucky’s team finally find the mole they’d been hunting for months. They’re all riled up, throwing him into the van, threatening him within an inch of his life. They know Bucky likes to take care of business himself but it doesn’t stop them from warning him about the pure wrath he’s going to face. 
“You’re fucked”
“You thought we were bad? You’re gonna wish your mom swallowed you”
They drag him up the steps, bursting into his office, expecting Bucky to be waiting there with his knife twirling between his fingers. 
Instead...
Bucky’s men all stared at each other before looking at the sweet thing that was sitting in their bosses lap, feeding him pastries. Bucky grinned like a love struck puppy, cradling you to his chest while he sat on his office chair, moaning at the sweet caramel melting on his tongue. The last thing they expected to see was a delicate thing like you cuddled up with who they thought was a blood thirsty gang leader. 
Sam snorted, shaking his head, watching Bucky ignore the rest of them, his eyes still trained on you, peppering kisses onto your cheek. 
“Motherfucker, are you eating butter tarts right now?” 
“They taste good” Bucky shrugged, giving you one final sweet kiss to your lips before looking up at his team. 
“Why don’t you wait for me in my room, I’ll be there soon” Bucky pressed a soft kiss onto your temple, helping you off his lap. You smiled, brushing some of his hair back, kissing his forehead.
“Come soon bubba” Your bare feet padded through his office, giving the towering men a quick wave as you passed them “Hi Sam, Hi Steve!” 
Sam blinked, before grinning and giving you a friendly wave back. 
“She is adorable, fucks she doing with you” 
“Shut the fuck up bird brain” Bucky panned, a growl emitting from his chest, as he rounded the table, his previous soft demeanor dropping as soon as his eyes landed on the mole. “Have Steve keep him quiet, my angel doesn’t have to hear this shit” 
After Bucky’s men saw how soft he was for you, you become their secret weapon. You’re always there to soften the blow they’d face, making him smile even when delivering the worst news. 
“Boss, the deliveries were seized” Peter trembles at the door, while Bucky’s nostrils flare, he’s about to tell everyone off, but his anger dissipates as soon as your head pops into the room. 
“Bucky, come cuddle?” You push past the men, your hands draping around his shoulders. 
“They put you up to this, didn’t they?” Bucky snorted, rubbing his temples, melting as soon as you crawled into his lap. You giggled innocently, kissing his scruffy cheek while he lifted you into his arms, carrying you over to his room. 
“Hmm, they’re lucky you’re so sweet babygirl” 
The first time 
For months, Bucky didn’t do anything more than give you soft kisses, hugs and cuddles. He wanted you, he needed you in a way he never thought was possible, but he didn’t want to rush anything. You were special and if he was going to be intimate with you, it’d be whenever you were ready. 
He never wanted to pressure you into anything, but you reassured him you wanted this. Bucky swallowed thickly, looking at your smaller form curled up against his bed waiting for him. You looked so sweet and delicate, wearing just one of his shirts, nervously fidgeting with your hands while he crawled up the bed to you. 
“Are you sure about this prinţesă?” He kissed your knee, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb; you felt your face heat up and the name he had for you, nodding without meeting his eyes. “Look at me baby” He tilted your chin to meet his gaze, “I won’t be upset if you want to wait” 
You knew he meant it. Not once had he ever made you feel like doing something you didn’t want. His sweetness only made you want him more. 
“I want this, I-I want you” you whispered, moaning softly when his lips pressed against yours. He kissed you softly, his hand moving to your waist to lay you down against the pillows. He was on top of you, nipping your jaw, peppering kisses down your neck, his hand caressing the side of your thigh. 
Being with you was different. 
He natural instinct had always been rough and fast; clothes torn, no build up. 
He didn’t want that with his pretty doll. Yet. 
He slowly undressed you, pulling your shirt over your head, leaving you bare underneath him. He continued to kiss you while still being fully dressed, chuckling when he felt you squirm under him. 
“What is it baby?”  He cocked his head, picking up on what you wanted when you fiddled with the buttons on his shirt but he didn’t want to give in, enjoying your flustered state.
“I-um” You fisted his shirt, burning under his gaze, “Take it off” 
“Take what off?” He cocked his eyebrow, a smirk dancing on his pretty lips. 
“Ugh, I want to see you naked Bucky” You pouted, burying your face into his neck while he grinned, bringing your hands to unbutton his shirt. 
“Whatever my babydoll wants, go ahead prinţesă, m’all yours” You squeaked when he pulled you and rolled over so you were straddled on top of him, his hands stroking your bare waist and thighs. 
“Want you to take it off babygirl” He couldn't take his eyes off you as you shakily undid his tie, moving to his buttons next. As soon as his shirt was off, you managed to unbuckle his belt and tug off his pants. You blinked at his thick cock straining against his briefs. 
Bucky brought his fingers to rub though your soaked folds, groaning at the slick that easily coated his fingers. 
“Will you let me taste you?” 
“I-no one’s ever-
“I’ll be gentle baby, promise it’ll feel good” Bucky laid you on your back as he worshipped your body, trailing kisses down your skin, while you hesitantly parted your legs, his thick, wide shoulders forcing them apart further. 
“So pretty baby” Bucky groaned, kissing your clit, his lips sealing around your clit, sucking softly, careful not to apply too much pressure. “You have the sweetest clit doll”
He could feel his cock throb against the mattress at the way your face contorted, soft whine slipping past your lips as you tried to keep your moans down. He pushed a finger in, gently stretching you out, while you started to grow needy, your hips shifting under him. He pulled away, his beard glistening with your arousal, eyes heavy with lust. 
“Want to be inside you prinţesă” 
You nodded,  while he threw his briefs off, his cock standing tall and proud as he hovered above you.
“Bucky, it-it won’t fit” You whispered, watching his thick cock bob between his legs, grazing on your clit. 
“We’ll make it fit baby” His hand gently cupped your face, while your legs moved up to hug his waist. “Tell me if its too much and I’ll stop” He moved his cock through your folds, groaning at how you felt on the tip of his cock. 
“Ready?” You nodded, gasping feeling his thick blunt tip prod against your soaked entrance.
“Jaames...” You whimpered feeling him stretch you while he kissed your forehead, stopping his movements with just the tip inside you.
“Shhh angel, it’s just me sweet girl” Your body trembled under his, biting down onto his shoulder as he pushed himself further while holding your body close to his. You were still getting used to the burn and stretch of him as he buried himself to the hilt, clinging onto him while he stayed still. 
“I know baby” Bucky stroked your forehead, brushing your hair away from your face, kissing your cheeks. He felt a new type of feral, his sweet girl under him, whining and whimpering over his cock, your pussy dripping around him.  
“S’too big Bucky” You bit your lip, your pretty doe eyes locked with his. 
“My cocks too big for you baby?” Bucky cooed, while you nodded, throbbing at your nails digging into his skin “Your pussy’s too tight, huh angel, you need me to go slow?”
There was something addicting over how hard Bucky was trying to hold back, his brows furrowed, cock already leaking into you. He started off slow, gentle thrusts, letting you adjust, telling you how perfect you were, his hands laced with yours, pinned against the bed.
“Taking my cock like such a good girl baby”
“You know how pretty you look right now doll?”
You felt the burn start to melt, your moans growing louder while he pushed his entire length in and out of you, his bally smacking against your ass. 
“M-more Bucky, please?” 
Bucky’s breaths grew heavy, feeling his spine tingle already, you had a different affect on him, his cock already throbbing. 
“You’re beautiful prinţesă”
“Could make love to you like this for hours my baby” 
“Taking me so well babydoll, making my cock throb, you’re so tight” 
He craved so much more of your warmth, his pace speeding up, moaning and grunting each time you cried out. He gripped onto the head board as he started to pound you, the sounds of skin slapping carrying through the room. 
“F-uck baby, you feel so good” He moaned into your neck, the muscles on his back tensed as he fucked you harder. “Am-am I too rough sweet girl”
“F-feels g-good James” You cried out from under him, your walls starting to flutter as he hit your g-spot. Bucky moaned, his forehead coming down to rest on yours, lips parted and brushing against each other. “Bucky, harder, please”
The sound your moaning his name made him almost cum on the spot. 
“Oh fuck don’t stop, tell me it feels good baby, tell me how bad you want it, keep saying my name” 
“JAMESS” The headboard practically slammed against the wall as he abandoned all softness, the both of you feral over each other, chasing your highs. 
“Tell me how good my cock makes you feel baby” His hand snaked between your bodies, rubbing and teasing your clit, making you nearly sob. 
“S’good Bucky, stretching me, I- fuck m’gonna cum!” 
“Cum my gorgeous girl, CUM”  “JAMES-I-F-FUCK” You clenched around his cock, cumming and squirting around him while he roared, his pace stuttering as he spilled ropes of cum into you. You both held onto each other, moaning and panting as you came down from your orgasm, your body still convulsing feeling his cum drip out of you. 
“Fuck I love you” He panted against your skin, pressing sloppy kisses all over your face. He had a goofy grin, sweeping you into his arms to run you a hot bath. 
(Which was a waste of time, considering he spent the rest of the night with you,  making an utter sticky mess in his bed)
Bonus: The first tattoo (dedicated to you)
Most of Bucky’s body is covered in dark ink, but none of his pieces were done impulsively. Each piece had a meaning behind it, and his latest one was his favorite. 
“Close your eyes baby” He picked you up and placed you on his desk, unbuttoning his shirt while you impatiently waited for him to tell you, you could look. “Alright, open” 
“A fairy?” You gasped, looking at his newest piece, your fingers gently tracing over his chest. Above his heart, was his latest piece, a little fairy reading a book while sitting on the moon. 
“From when I first met you. I thought you were like a little garden fairy” Bucky blushed, kissing your nose. “Could never get enough of you, the only little fairy to think I’m cute” 
Tears stung your eyes, sniffling while he wrapped his arms around you. You smiled against his skin, kissing his chest. 
“You like it baby?” His thumbs swiped across your cheeks, stroking your hair while you nodded, struggling to formulate words. 
“I-I love y-ou” You choked out, hugging him tighter
“I adore you sweet girl, love you to the moon and back”
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imo the glasses on the new guy are a nod to jack’s eye sockets LOL but i def think it would be interesting if his design incorporates elements from characters other than jack because there’s so many cool designs in the movie. also the way i thought he was ace in black and white what with the skeleton costume and that fuckin ass grin haha
[Referencing this post!]
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I think that's totally possible too! The glasses could be interpreted both ways, maybe even at the same time. The lenses are definitely big enough to invoke Jack's large eye sockets, but the style just so happens to also invoke Dr. Finkelstein's goggles (albeit the size of them is much smaller). I did see a theory that the new Halloween character isn't twisted!Jack at all, but rather twisted!Dr. Finkelstein, since he could count as a "villain" in the original film. The suit and gloves are very "Jack", but some people have pointed out that the glasses, the headpiece, and the teeth also match up with the doctor's. ashfbaiyldbas THAT WOULD BE FUNNY IF IT WAS TRUE... Turns out everyone was thirsting for the grumpy old man/j The suit and gloves, however, are most definitely more Jack-coded. I think it's still too early to tell right now; we'll have to wait and see how they present him in future content. However, I still do personally think it's more likely to be Jack just because he is much more iconic.
ADLHBAFSOYASIYFA YOU THOUGHT THAT WAS ACE/?????? ? ? ???? ? Ain't no way he got that drip... 😭 (I mean, the new character did drop on Ace's birthday in Japan so I can sort of understand the confusion??) I wonder if the new guy will have a mischievous, kinda cocky personality like Ace?? Aaaah, so excited to learn more about him...
The concept of a white-haired Ace makes me think of an AU where Ace and Deuce aren't knocked out by Styx agents in book 6 and are able to follow Yuu and co. to the Island of Woe. Maybe instead of Riddle getting drained of his energy, it's Ace (and thus he is the one who emerges with white hair, not Riddle).
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brittscafe · 11 months
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Geto Suguru Headcanons
Synopsis: SFW and NSFW headcanons. Geto Suguru x female reader.
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SFW:
Doesn't let anybody touch or play with his hair, expect for you.
Geto calls you babe and princess. He calls you babe more often, princess is reserved for special romantic moments where he feels like he's not really on earth and is floating.
His touch is delicate, like he's afraid he's going to break you. It's feather light.
Knuckles swiping over your cheek and a tiny smile on his face as he does so.
Geto is definitely not a morning person at all.
He'll groan and mumble, pulling you closer and snuggling his head into the curve of your neck.
His morning grumpiness makes you giggle and laugh at him.
His eyes are always on your, peering and admiring.
Geto is very silent and subtle when he wants your attention.
He'll grab your hand and inch closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
You'll lean on him and Geto will gather his arms around you.
He prefers spending quality time with you, watching movies or just sitting in silence together.
He'll cook with you or literally do anything with you just be by your side.
He can become jealous, but he won't say anything. His eyes will though.
He'll glare at a man, eyes glaring up and down as a warning sign.
There is never such a thing as too much PDA to Geto.
He'll usually just his hand on your lower back or an arm wrapped around your waist.
Geto has no problem pulling you aside and pinning you against a building to make out.
He likes the sense of danger when there's a crowd of people around.
He low-key wants to get caught with his tongue inside of your mouth.
The two of you play fight all the time and you usually start it, saying you could easily beat him in a fight.
Geto will cock an eyebrow and start to crawl over to you, a devious smirk on his face.
You giggle endlessly as Geto pins you to the ground, hands above your head without to run to.
If you're ticklish, his hands will attack your sides or wherever you're weak at.
These playfully fights usually end out in make out sessions or more... ;)
Geto loves his bury his head into your neck, nose pressing against your skin and breathing in your scent.
"God, I love the way you smell," he'll whisper, nibbling on your earlobe.
He loves to nibble on your earlobe and tug on it.
Geto doesn't say I love you a lot. He just expresses it through his physical actions.
He only says it for special occasions; leaving for a mission, whispering it in your ear right before you drift off to sleep, or whenever you're bathing together and his arms are wrapped around you from behind.
NSFW:
This man has me chewing on my fingernails. All I have to say is welcome to pound town.
Geto usually likes to be pretty rough with you, a hand wrapped around your throat and controlling your pulse as he's thrusting into you from behind.
Geto loves doggy or anything where he can pound into you from behind.
He loves seeing the tears slip down your cheeks as you're begging him for more.
Geto's eyes roll into the back of his head when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock.
He won't push your head or anything.
He loves watching you on your knees, bobbing on his cock.
Geto will wear a wryly smirk on his face, knowing that you pleasure him so well.
He definitely overstimulates you and he won't stop thrusting even after you both cum. He just keeps going, your whines, whimpers, and moans filling the room.
It turns you on so much when Geto lets his hair down, tickling your skin or face.
I have a feeling that he's mostly dom, but he'll let you ride him, but he's definitely still in charge.
His hands on your hips, guiding them and allowing his cock to sink back inside of you.
He's cocky in bed, whispering such dirty, degrading things to you.
He can also praise you, it really depends on the kind of day he's had.
He likes to be super mean in bed, making you beg from him to allow you to cum or edging you.
I think he's low-key kinky...
He's got fuzzy handcuffs just for you.
He loves to see you squirm and struggle to hold yourself together as his touch is gentle and slowly edging you to your release.
This man will literally start to drool if you have lingerie and wear it just for him.
He'll worship your body, hands teasing every curve and his lips sucking on your skin.
He's aftercare is pretty basic.
Geto will easily swipe you up from the bed and carry you in his strong arms into the bathroom.
He'll usually run a bath for you, having you sit on the counter as he carefully cleans you up.
He takes his time, running the soft cloth over your skin.
Geto usually falls asleep before you do, arms squeezed around your body.
His forehead pressed up against your arm or side, your fingers carding through his raven hair.
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