#i know i can be slow to answer asks but still feel free to drop one in my box about anything your confused or curious about!

[nachrosas]

CUPID'S PUPPY | e.prentiss x romanoff!reader

summary: in which a walk in the park with your puppy gives you more than a little fun. pairing: emily prentiss x romanoff!reader content warnings: none, just pure fluff! word count: 1.2k a/n: night, night! first time writing for emily prentiss, so I'm nervous! i want to give a big thank you to @mggslover who encouraged me to start writing about this idea! i had fun writing this one and i really hope you guys like it! feedback is always appreciated! also, my inbox is always open to chat! till the next one!

The park was particularly busy on that sunny Tuesday afternoon, but the sound of laughter, chatter, and footsteps didn't bother you. You were holding the lead of Bucky, your Belgian Malinois puppy, who was trotting lively beside you, his tail wagging as if he were greeting the whole world with his contagious animation. The current of wind blowing towards you carried the scent of flowers, freshly cut grass, and… food.

“Bucky, slow down!” you ordered, adjusting the strap of your fanny pack on your shoulder. It was the perfect day for a leisurely walk in the park, and you planned to make the most of it — since you didn't know when exactly you'd have another mission-free day. However, something seemed to distract your puppy. He raised his snout, sniffing more intensely, and his posture became alert.

“Hey, kid, what now?” you asked, laughing as he pulled a little harder on the leash.

That's when it happened. And, to your utter panic, Bucky fired without warning, the leash sliding quickly through your hands.

“Bucky! Stop!”

That's when it happened. And, to his utter panic, Bucky took off without warning, running into a woman with brown hair in a messy ponytail, absent-mindedly eating what looked like a sandwich while leafing through a book with a faded cover. Without warning, he jumped up, snatching the food out of her hands and running across the park.

“Bucky! Stop! Drop it now!”

You ran through the park, your face red with embarrassment as Bucky, with all the enthusiasm of someone who thought he'd just won the lottery, held the stolen sandwich firmly between his teeth. He settled comfortably in the soft grass, chewing his snack as if it were the best meal he'd ever had.

When you finally reached him, you knelt down beside him, trying to snatch the remains of the sandwich from his jaws, but he only turned his head away, protecting his delicious prize.

“You're terrible, you know that? Terrible!”

“He seems to think otherwise.” a humor-laden female voice replied behind you, startling you slightly.

You turned around quickly and, a few steps away, there she was: arms crossed and with a relaxed posture. Her eyes were shining and a huge smile that seemed to be lit up with amusement took over her face.

“I'm really sorry!” you began, standing up hastily, the words running over each other. “He's never done that! He's usually very polite. I can buy you another sandwich… or anything else you want to make it up to you!”

She raised an eyebrow, still smiling, and shook her head. “You don't have to. It's not the end of the world.” Her eyes turned to Bucky, who was now licking his paws, completely oblivious to the mess he'd just caused. “Besides, he's got good taste…”

You opened your mouth to thank her, but she finished, her soft smile turning into something a little provocative:

“… just like the owner.”

The words hung in the air for a second before you realized what she had said. A wave of heat went up your cheeks, and any attempt to answer was shuffled off with a nervous laugh.

“I… uh… eh… Well, thanks, I guess?”

She laughed again, this time more softly, and held out her hand. “Emily Prentiss. Nice to meet you and this little sandwich thief.”

You accepted the handshake, your face still feeling hot. “Nice to meet you… even if that's not exactly the best first impression.”

“I disagree.” Emily blinked in your direction and, for a brief moment, the chaos caused by Bucky seemed to have been worth it.

Emily looked at what was left of the sandwich: a tiny piece, still wrapped in the crumpled paper, that Bucky had saved.

“Well, he left something. Do you want to share?” she asked, holding up the piece with a playful smile on her lips.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Eh, I couldn't accept it, especially after… that.” you gestured to Bucky, who was still lying on the grass, licking his lips as if he didn't feel a pang of guilt in the world.

“Okay.” Emily said, tossing what was left onto the table next to you with a thoughtful look on her face. “How about a coffee? The place around the corner has amazing sandwiches. And I promise to keep an eye on your dog this time.”

You hesitated. Accepting an invitation from a complete stranger wasn't exactly in your plans for that day — however, neither was Bucky stealing a sandwich. But there was something about Emily — her genuine smile, the relaxed way she had handled the situation — that made you want to stay a little longer.

“All right,” you said, smiling back. “But it's on me. Bucky's already put me in enough debt for today.”

Emily laughed, starting to walk beside him. “Fine. But only if he behaves.”

Bucky, as if he understood that the conversation was now about him, looked up with an expression of almost innocence. 

On the walk to the café, the conversation between you flowed naturally. Emily asked about Bucky: how long you'd had him, how he generally behaved — and you again assured her that he behaved much better than he does today. You told her about the various adventures and pranks you'd been on with him, and Emily, in return, told you about her childhood dog, called Max, who she also regarded as a “little terror”.

“I think he knew how to pick his targets,” she joked. “Max also stole a sandwich once. It was from the most annoying neighbor in the whole neighborhood. I remember he was quite furious, but my mother managed to get around it with an apple pie from a prestigious restaurant.”

“So, for you, Bucky was just an evolution of this legacy of thievery?” you teased, feeling more at ease with every step.

“It's quite possible.” Emily laughed, and the sound was light and infectious. 

The conversation between you flowed with such surprising ease that you didn't even notice the time passing. Emily was fun and full of stories that made you laugh and relax. When the waiter brought the bill, she insisted on splitting it.

“Consider it a draw,” she joked. “A sandwich was stolen for a shared coffee.”

The golden light of late afternoon illuminated the sky, giving the scene an almost magical tone. When they reached the door of the café, Emily turned to you, a shy smile on her lips.

“I come here often,” she said, putting her hands in her coat pockets. “Maybe we'll meet up again… if Bucky isn't too busy stealing sandwiches, of course.”

You laughed, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks again. “Maybe. Or, well, we could arrange a time, if you want to avoid food surprises.”

Emily arched an eyebrow, clearly holding back a bigger smile. “That sounds like a plan. Can I take your number?”

You nodded and exchanged numbers, the gesture accompanied by a slight feeling of nervousness, but also anticipation.

“Right, so I'll see you around!” Emily said, taking one last look at Bucky, who was watching everything curiously. “And if he needs a lawyer for his next prank, let me know.”

You laughed, nodding as she walked away.

As you walked home, you looked at Bucky, who was walking beside you with his chest puffed out, as if he knew exactly what he had done.

“You knew all along, didn't you?” you asked, and he wagged his tail enthusiastically, as if in agreement.

A smile escaped his lips. The day that had started out like any other had turned into something unexpected and special — all thanks to a dog with a refined taste for sandwiches and, apparently, casual encounters.

[wyervan]

Okee, I felt like it was time to finally compile some links and stuff

DCA SLASHER AU MASTERPOST

Yapathon about the premise and my Final Girl y/n character sheet

A little extra lore on y/n Star

I use dca slasher au tag to refer to all posts, asks, and reblogs about the au in general. If your looking for ONLY my art or writing, try slasher dca (this applies only to my own blog—feel free to use whatever you tags you like if you do fanart/writing)

ART & COMICS

Sun & Moon Character Sheets & Sketches

Halloween comic

Bad Dogs

Star poking the beast

Moer sketches

The locker comic

Sun

Why are Moon’s teeth so sharp?

a little cake

WRITING

Halloween one-shot

AU SPOTIFY PLAYLIST

FAQ

What year does the AU take place in / How old are Sun & Moon?

They are in their late 20s-early 30s in the noughties

Are they brothers?

No. They originally met and became friends as kids.

Are “Sun” and “Moon” their real names?

They are not their birth names but they exclusively go by them.

Are they serial killers? Who do they target?

Yes, according to the definition. Generally, people who harm kids in some way.

How tall are they?

Beanpole-sized

What do they do for fun?

They’re just two Average Joes ™️ with Average Joe-kinda Hobbies™️.

Are they polyam? What would a relationship with them be like?

It’s messy.

How do you feel about Sun x Moon?

A-okay with me, baybee~

Can anybody make an OC / Self-insert for the AU?

God yes, of course. And it doesn't even have to be a "final girl" or even one of their employees.

Is there a fic somewhere I can read?

Currently, there's just the Halloween one-shot. I would love to do more and I am working on the bones of a full fic AND/OR a longer-form comic (haven't decided yet what final form the story will take). BUT this is likely a long way off.

Are you okay with NSFW / Spicy fanwork?

broadly speaking, yes

FANWORK

Other people's final girl y/ns and AU OCs

All Fanart from other amazing people

Fanfiction from other amazing people

Lineup of all of the final girls and OCs (as of Dec 12th) by the wicked cool @/authormeat

Absolutely feel free to @ me in your post. Seeing your work fills me with such joy! Tag your posts however you'd like. Any specific tags I use are for my own blog's organization.

[martiniluvr]

18+ minors dni

a lil bit of a long drabble but I’ve been consumed by visions of sparring w jason so…ur welcome.

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

you grunt with effort as you hurl your fist towards jason todd, yelling in exasperation when he easily blocks your punch with his forearm. “you’re not driving hard enough,” he barks, obstructing your other hand with the same manoeuvre. “still not paying attention, are you?” you glare at him and lunge again, aiming for his side, and you manage to land a decent hit this time. he grunts softly, but shakes his head.

“rookie mistake,” he huffs, glancing down with a smirk. “you just sacrificed your footing.” he sweeps his leg between yours and knocks you to the mat, instantly pinning you under his body with his muscular legs. “see, if this was the real world,” he pants, his face hovering inches above yours, “you’d be dead now, ma.” your chest heaves and sweat beads along your hairline as you squirm beneath him, your arms flailing as you try to wrestle yourself free. jason lets out a chuckle as his eyes drift down to your breasts spilling out over your sports bra. “don’t hurt yourself,” he teases.

you huff angrily and try to shove his arm, widening your eyes as he loses balance, if only for a second; not wasting a moment, you roll out from under him and use the momentum to launch yourself onto your knees, before dropping back on top of jason and pinning him using the same position he had used on you mere seconds before. you grin at his puzzled expression as you press your forearm to his chest. “do you yield?” you ask, raking your eyes over the y-shaped scar down his exposed abdomen.

“you cheated,” he says, knitting his brows; still, you notice a smile tugging at his lips. you reach down to move a strand of white hair that’s stuck to his sweaty forehead, smiling at him. “no rules in a street fight, jay,” you laugh. “just admit you lost.” you absently shift over jason’s pelvis, sending a flash of heat up his abdomen. “come on, jay. let me have this!”

his green eyes glimmer as you speak, and he slowly works to free one of his arms while you gloat. “no rules, huh?” he muses, trying to keep you distracted. “alright, ma. let’s do this your way.” you barely have time to question what he means before his arm flies out from under your legs and knocks you flat onto the mat. you gasp as you feel jason’s heavy body resting on your back, biting your lip when his hips rock against your ass. you feel his hardening cock pushing into you, which sends warmth pooling in your lower belly.

“what’s wrong, ma?” he breathes against your ear, tracing one of his hands down your back and over the curve of your ass until he’s between your legs. his fingers press against your clothed clit, and you breathe shakily as he rubs slow circles over your leggings. “y’said no rules, right?” you don’t answer, too preoccupied with biting back a moan as jason works your legs apart with his knee so he can grind his length against you.

“wanted me to let you win,” he tuts, using one hand to tug your fitted leggings over the flesh of your ass and down your thighs. “c’mon, princess, you know I’m a sore loser.” you whine as he tugs your panties to the side and runs his fingers from your clit to your entrance. a deep chuckle rumbles behind you as he feels how wet you are, and you feel him shift as he aligns himself at your pussy. you moan desperately when he glides the head of his cock between your folds, pressing your belly further into the mat in an attempt to feel him.

“yield,” jason whispers in your ear, guiding his length to your tight cunt but never giving you what you need. “c’mon, ma. just admit you lost and I can help you, hm?” you can practically hear the smug grin on his face, but even though you’re probably just as sore a loser as he is, there’s only one thing you want more than a win right now.

“fuck, jay,” you whine, bucking your hips back up against him, “I yield, okay? you win. please, just—please.” he laughs behind you and places his hands on your waist, turning you onto your back so you can face him. he takes in your lust-blown pupils and pliant, sweat-beaded body with a grin. not so tough now, are you, princess?

“that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he smirks, pulling your leggings off completely and discarding them behind you, before bringing his fingers back down to your clit. a moan escapes you as he aligns himself at your aching cunt, sinking into you agonisingly slow as his fingers dig into your delicate skin. he swears under his breath as you squeeze around him, feeling your walls drawing him in hungrily. “fuck, ma,” he groans, leaning back to watch you take him. a hazy smile spreads over his lips as you arch your spine off the mat beneath you. “not a bad consolation prize, huh, baby?”

[daintcas]

breaking up with rafe cameron (it lasts a day) !

your phone was blowing up furiously with notifications you didn't have to look at to know who it was. another text from your recently self-proclaimed ex-boyfriend pinged again.

'Where are you'

'Answer me.'

'I'm coming to your house'

'We're going to talk about this'

swiping off the messages from your lock screen and angrily flipping over your phone, you sat up in bed where you'd been sulking and threw off the covers.

he'd really hurt your feelings this time, off and gone doing god knows what (selling w barry) for days, usually without a single text. when you did finally get to see him, he had the audacity to be tense and mean towards you.

everyone knows about rafe's short temper, but you're the one who had to deal with it. after so much of letting him take it out on you - especially recently - and not having a spare second to love on your boyfriend, you'd had enough and stopped hanging around his house. shortly after, ending it through a single text.

the sound of his truck swerving into your driveway had you furrowing your brows and pouting, stomping down the stairs to lock the front door. as you reach out the twist the knob, it swings open and you're left stumbling back.

his mere presence towering over you wipes your confidence to say anything. forcing himself inside, he shuts the door behind him and inches closer to you - like a predator to their prey.

"you gonna explain, or what?" he asks, tauntingly slow as he looks down at you and your glossy eyes, trying to contain his anger.

"we're done, rafe. that's what," you push out, though admittedly failing at trying to stand your ground. with him here in front of you, what could you possibly have been so upset about? your memory fails you the longer you keep his intense gaze.

he scoffs and shakes his head, exhaling sharply through his nose to physically release his rage - though his jaw is still firmly clenched. "that's fuckin' rich."

"i'm serious. you're— you're never here. i'm all by myself at your house all the time. i just.. it's so lonely." after finally finding your words and letting them out, the both of you seem to relax a bit.

"baby, i— listen, i'm workin' a business now, okay? i got my own money, i'm.. providing. for you." he explains in a hurry, trying to hide how desperately he needs you back.

"i don't need any of that, rafe. i just want to be around you." your voice starts to trail off towards the end, partly because of the vulnerability but mostly because of his possible reaction.

as he runs his hands over his face to ease the tension between his brows, he lets out a sigh and stays silent for a moment.

"don't fucking scare me like that. you can just tell me this shit, don't have to go starting a bunch of nonsense." the words are followed by his hands dropping to his side, looking down at you more hurt than mad.

it has your heart melting and your head nodding before looking down, letting out a bold but harmless mumble. "still mad at you though.."

the arm hooking around the back of your neck tugs you into his chest, free hand messily working through your hair to pull you firmer against him. his lips plant possessively on the crown of your head before murmuring, "jesus christ."

[grandline-fics]

Hi, Hi, Thank you for answering! Since you said you accepted multiples characters i may ask for Ace, Zoro, Shanks if possible Marco with a s/o who during their relationship never show any signs of jealousy nor even possessiveness, very laidback. Yet one day/night, the boys just witnessed their s/o jealousy for the first time. And if possible the s/o’s jealousy is mostly staying deadly quiet with a disappointed gaze, but not cold treatment though. Or something like that? Thank you, thank you, I hope I did not asked characters you aren’t comfortable with :(

DESCRIPTION: They finally see you jealous

WARNINGS: some slight angst but it all ends happily for everyone

CHARACTERS: Ace, Shanks, Marco

WORDS: 2,453

A/N: Thank you for this request! I hope each scenario was different enough for you and that you're happy with the result for this ask

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

ACE

If Ace were to find a partner, he couldn’t get anyone better than you. You were his closest friend before you both became aware of your deep romantic feelings for the other and both confessed, allowing things to effortlessly progress into a romantic relationship. With you Ace knows he is safe and free to be himself, just as you can be yourself without judgement. Because you were both friends before becoming a couple, you both are content to spend time together while also being apart. You both can spend an evening in a bar with the other Whitebeard Pirates and hardly say a word to each other until its time for you both to return to the ship. Because of the fact neither of you cling to the other for the entirety of the night, it can lead to some misconceptions about the relationship you both have to an outsider.

One evening you returned to the Moby Dick after being sent out on a solo mission by Pops. As usual the deck was lively and filled with laughter and chatter. You noticed some new faces to the crew, making a note to properly introduce yourself to the new recruits after you spoke to Pops. On your approach you slowed to see one recruit standing very close to Ace, who merely smiled at them with his usual friendly smile. While he couldn’t see the lust in his admirer’s eyes you could see it clearly. “So you’re my commander? I’m so lucky to be under someone as handsome as you.” She smirked and Ace laughed, while you rolled your eyes, continuing to walk forward. 

Marco spotted your approach first and called out your name in greeting. Immediately Ace looked over excitedly only for his smile to drop when he spotted the look in your gaze. Normally you were as excited as he was when you were reunited but now you seemed almost disappointed. Worry flipped in his stomach and he reached out towards you but instinctively you pulled your arm away and continued to walk. “I have to talk to Pops first. I’ll catch up with you after.”

“Looks like someone’s in the doghouse.” Izou teased when he knew you were out of earshot. 

“Can you blame them? They go for a couple weeks and come back to Ace flirting with another person.” Marco chimed in with a feigned look of disapproval while Ace became panicked and looked between his fellow Division Commanders. Did you really think that? Was he really in trouble? Worse still, was his relationship with you at risk because he hadn’t realised one of the recruits was flirting with him again?

Acting on impulse he immediately raced up the deck and slid to a halt beside you, hooking an arm around your waist and hauling you off of your feet. “Sorry, Pops! Emergency!” he called out over your shouts, ignoring them and the whooping cheers as he carried you below deck to your shared room to speak in private. When you were set on your feet you lightly shoved Ace. “What the hell did you do that for?” You demanded only to blink in surprise when Ace threw himself onto his knees and wrapped his arms around your waist, staring up at you in desperation. “Please don’t end things with me! I promise you’re the only one I want, I’d never throw what we have away. I swear I didn’t flirt back. I’d never-” 

“I know Ace.” You stopped his rambling with a small smile and lightly setting your hand on his cheek. “You never realise when anyone flirts with you. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen someone throw themselves at you.”

“But that look on your face…and Izou and Marco said I was in the doghouse…”

“Yeah I don’t like seeing someone flirt with you but I know you’re loyal to me.” You shrugged. “As for those two, they’re just bored. I wasn’t going to get mad at you for not realising someone wanted to get with you. I trust you Ace.”

“If you were mad at me though…”

“I’d tell you.” You promised before pinching his cheek and scowling. “For example, I’m not happy you dragged me away while I was in the middle of talking to Pops. But I’ll forgive you just this once because of how worried you were.” You smiled to see the relief in Ace’s eyes and suddenly became aware of the strain in your neck. “Now would you please get up and welcome me home properly?” With a grin, Ace adjusted his hold on you and quickly pulled you down to instead settle on his lap so he could lovingly pepper your face with kissed before finally kissing you with all the love he could convey. Despite you promising you were fine he needed to show that you were the only one he ever wanted this way. 

SHANKS

“Oh Captain’s got his hands full again….or rather hand full.” You glanced across the bar as you entered the building to see what Lucky had been talking about and your sights zeroed in on the swarm of women around your Captain. Any that hadn’t been able to grab a chair at the table, stood excitedly close all of them listening to the current tale of adventure the crew had been on. Everyone in the crew, including yourself were used to this occurrence. Of course they’d be drawn to the handsome Captain with the roguish smile. You’d been drawn to it and fallen for his charm so you couldn’t exactly blame anyone else for it too. 

Despite that you still couldn’t help the foreign, uncomfortable feeling stirring in you at the sight. Up until a few months ago, you would have joined in with the rest of the crew, teasing your popular Captain but since then you’d fallen for him and started a relationship with Shanks which some of the crew still weren’t completely aware of. Jealousy wasn’t something you’d ever really felt before seeing as your previous relationship were flings at best and you and your partner knew as much. What you had with Shanks however felt different and because of the fact neither of you had made it public or put a label on what was going on between you both, it made the feeling even more uneasy at the sight in front of you. 

You walked with Lucky Roux to Shanks’ table just as he finished his story. At your approach Shanks’ eyes lit up and he grinned at you from behind his mug. “You two have some catching up to do.” He joked, while Lucky grinned and reached for the filled mug of ale offered to him, you nodded slightly and took your own with less enthusiasm as you normally would. Immediately Shanks’ suspicions were heightened, while his carefree smile remained the look in his eyes sharpened as he observed you drink steadily. A couple of the newer members of the crew rose from their seats to let you and Lucky sit at Shanks’ table out of respect to you both. Lucky took his seat without hesitation whereas you smiled and shook your head gently. Instead you drained your mug and turned to go to the bar for a refill. Shanks’ eyebrow quirked slightly and his fingers drummed against his mug while he watched you in concern. “Were there any issues Lucky?”

“Not a one, Cap’n. Ship got restocked without problem and the locals reported no trouble since our last visit here. Everyone’s happy.” Lucky reported with his usual smile before returning to his own conversation with Hongo. Shanks glanced at you from across the room again, watching as even with your new drink, you remained by the bar, sipping it slowly and staring at nothing. Shanks finished off his drink and moved to stand only for one of the women fawning over him put a hand on his shoulder, insisting they’d go and get the drink for him only for the others to pipe up too, leading them to bicker over who would get him a refill. “No, no, I’ll go myself, it’s fine. You all stay and Ben here will tell you of my best battle, won’t you Ben?”

At the promise of another story, Shanks was able to get away from the table without being followed by his admirers and he let out a sigh when he was out from the crowded presences and now standing beside you, fully noticing the difference he felt in the comparison of the two feelings. While he waited for the bartender to see to him, he glanced at you and saw your far-off look. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m staying close to the alcohol so I can catch up like you ordered me to Captain.” Your answer was even and detached, your gaze remaining on nothing in particular on the opposite wall. 

“You’ve got me worried, love.” At that pet-name you finally looked at Shanks. Unable to help yourself you glanced behind him to the table filled with people still waiting for him to return before returning your stare to his face. 

“It wasn’t my intention to worry you or ruin your fun. I was keeping my distance specifically to avoid that.” You explained and Shanks finally realised what the problem was. You were jealous, over them? People who paled in comparison to you in every way. 

“My fun’s only ruined if you’re not with me.” Shanks murmured closing the small space between you both. He saw the hesitancy in your eyes and he gave you a reassuring smile before securing his arm around your waist and kissing you deeply, the action dispelling the unease you’d been feeling instantly. Over the sound of the crew whistling and shouts of others to pay up because of a bet neither you or Shanks were aware of you broke apart from the kiss and smile when he lay his head against yours. “Should’ve done this a long time ago when I finally got you.” 

MARCO

You knew what you were getting into when you and Marco gave into your attraction for each other. You knew that his time would be taken up mostly with caring for Pops on a daily basis and the other members of the crew when they were sick or injured. Any free time he would have was precious and you were never possessive of that. When he was able to spend time with you he did and your patience was alway appreciated from him. Sometimes when he’s overloaded with work you stop by to offer him some food and sit in his office for an hour or so, just to enjoy each other’s presence. You don’t need to talk, just being there is enough for you both. 

On this occasion you hadn’t seen Marco because of a nasty flu making its way through some of the crew and after a few days without seeing his face, you’d grown to miss him. So you made your way to the medical office and your step faltered when you heard the familiar sound of his laughter coming from inside. Lightly you knocked on the door once and entered the room to see one of the nurses standing beside Marco as he sat at his desk. You smiled warmly when Marco seemed happy to see you but your smile fell when you spotted the empty plate on his desk. “Ah, you’ve already eaten.”

“Of course he has.” The nurse giggled, smiling at Marco playfully. “Though he would have forgotten if it wasn’t for me. As amazing as he is as a Doctor, he’s hopeless at looking after himself.”

“He’s lucky you’re here to look after for him then.” You said, unable to sound as cheerful as the nurse. Clearing your throat you looked down at the small plate of food you’d brought for your boyfriend. You knew nothing was going on between him or any of the nurses that worked closely alongside him but you still felt the jealousy growing in your chest. This was a small thing you could do for Marco and you felt childish for feeling stung that he didn’t need you. You didn’t like the feeling and needed to distance yourself from the cause. “I’m glad you’ve eaten so I’ll let you get back to your work. Don’t let him overwork himself, okay?” You forced the joke out with a tight smile while the nurse smiled brightly and nodded in joy that you were trusting her. Marco watched silently as you turned and left him. Even with his tiredness, he could still see something was wrong with you. 

As soon as he completed the current task on his desk, Marco stood and stretched. After working without resting for these days, he knew no-one would begrudge him a break away from his office. Stretching out he walked through the corridors until he was walking into the room he shared with you. You looked up in surprise from your lounged spot on the sofa. Before you could react, Marco was crawling onto the sofa and laying ontop of you, his head resting against your chest as his arms encircled you, holding you close. “Marco, what are you-”

“You left far too quickly.” Marco groaned out, now that he was lying down he realised just how uncomfortable sitting at his desk was. “I missed you, sorry I was cooped up in my office all this time.”

“You’re don’t need to apologise for that Marco.”

“I feel like I do need to say sorry for something though.” he admitted, lifting his head slightly to look at you with concern. “You didn’t seem yourself when you stopped by.”

“It’s not you, it’s me.” You promised, gently running your fingers through his hair. Under his patient stare you sighed and continued. “I’m not a doctor like you or trained in anything medical. For the most part I’m fine with that because I’m good in other ways but it’s just when you are overworking yourself there’s not much I can do to help you. One of those things is taking care of you and making sure you’re eating. It’s silly but it made me jealous to see someone else doing that for you.”

“It’s not silly at all. We can’t help our emotions but I’m glad you were able to talk to me about it.” Marco smiled, taking your hand to press a loving kiss against your wrist. “Never feel like you’re replaceable. I’m only ever able to rest like this because of your influence over me. No one looks after me the way you can and you’re the only one I want.”

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

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[finelinevogue]

lost n found

summary - you are lost in italy the night before your wedding

pairing: fiancé!harry x reader

word count: ~2k

You were definitely lost.

Drunk and lost.

To: harry - im so sor:(y

From: harry - Baby, you’re fine❤️ Drop me your location and I’ll come find you. Please don’t move xx

To: harry - okaY.i love you xox

So currently you were sat on a stone wall, somewhere on a random side street in a small Italian village, waiting for your boyfriend to come and pick you up.

Harry had gone out with a few of his closest guy friends for drinks, for one last night as an unmarried man.

You and your girls had gone out for drinks too and you had mentioned to the boys that you would catch them up later.

At some point during the evening, though, you and the girls had all gone to the beach and you had gone to the toilet. It had been a trek to find one, only when you tried to find your way back you took so many drunken wrong turns that you couldn’t tell your legs from rights now.

Reading a map was useless, but sending Harry messages wasn’t.

You originally hadn’t wanted to send him any messages, not wanting to ruin his last night a “free” man but at some point you had become a little too lost to care.

Swinging your legs as you sat on the wall, you watched the birds fly overhead amongst the clear blue sky. You detailed all the cracks in the old buildings and counted twelve windows on one wall alone.

Your brain was fuzzy and your eyes kept on wanting to close from tiredness. You would be blaming a lot of your girl friends tomorrow for the continuous passing of shots your way.

Your phone rang in your hand.

“Yeah?” You answered, not even checking the caller ID.

“Baby? Love? Can y’hear me?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not where y’said you’d be.” Harry sounded stressed.

“N-no I am. I sent you my location a-and I haven’t moved.”

You stood up and could feel yourself starting to panic. If Harry didn’t know where you were then there was no way of you knowing. Harry wasn’t ever a big enough drinker to get really drunk, unlike you.

You only ever got drunk when you felt you were in a safe environment, like tonight had been surrounded by all your closest girl friends. Or always with Harry.

Now that you didn’t have anyone and you were still drunk, you were getting anxiety of being alone and intoxicated.

Cue to shaky hands and tears.

“Are y’sure baby?”

“Y-yes. Fuck me. You’re not going to find me. Fuck. I don’t – shit – I.. I’m…”

“Hey, hey. Y/N, baby. Woah, slow down for me, okay? I am coming for you, okay? I just.. It was my mistake and I just need to relocate myself. You’re okay.”

Your phone was shaky in your hands and you started twisting your body around, as if expecting some random creepy guy to come around the corner and take advantage of you.

The twisting didn’t help your head, though, and was making you feel increasingly dizzy and sick.

“Y/N?” Harry asked urgently and you wondered whether you’d missed something he said.

“I-I’m scared.” You honestly said, backing yourself against a wall and trying to let the cool stone calm you down.

Your tears will no doubt have ruined your minimal makeup by now, not that that was a main priority of yours right now.

“Honey, you’re okay. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

Harry sounded like he was running.

His voice sounded a little breathy and you could hear the fast movement of wind through the speakerphone.

“Y/N, love, turn on your data.” Harry said.

“I ran out.” You banged your head back against the wall, not even thinking about the pain that just caused.

You whimpered as you sank down onto the floor, knees tucked close to your chest and arm wrapped around your legs. Your phone was still to your ear, with Harry’s voice being the only sane thing in this moment.

“Okay, okay.” Harry muttered to himself rather than you. More running sounded from Harry’s end of the phone. “Baby, y’still there?”

“Mm.”

Your mind travelled to many worst case scenarios and due to how bad they were your panic only increased.

This was supposed to be your last nights as an unmarried couple and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d ruined that. He must’ve been having such a good night.

You’d seen a couple of photos on his private Instagram story and other people’s Instagram stories. Your fiancé looked divine. He just looked so perfect that it was difficult to believe that he had chosen you and you got to call him yours.

It did make you nearly cry that he was thinking of you, via Instagram, though.

“You feeling okay, baby?” Harry asked.

“Don’t know. I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“It’s okay. I’m not angry or upset. Just want to make sure you’re okay, my love.”

“Okay.”

“So you have to be brave for me, okay?”

“Yes, okay.”

You got stuck for a moment, trying to think of possible ways you could calm yourself down and distract yourself. Luckily, Harry was already one step ahead.

“Hey, baby?” He grabbed your attention.

“Yeah.”

“We’re getting married tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help but let the smile take over your face. You weren’t scared at all for tomorrow. You had no nervous jitters. All you felt was love in your heart for your husband to be.

“We are.”

“And you’re going to look so beautiful.”

“So are you.”

“I can’t wait to see you in your wedding dress. I bet it looks so pretty.”

You sniffled, building back your strength and overcoming your anxiety. A lot of your strength came from the love you hold for Harry.

You heard a noise from your left and looked to see a cat rustling through some litter.

Your heart deflated when you realised it wasn’t Harry. You knew he was coming though. He was on his way and he would not stop running until he found you.

It was almost like a bad scene out of a romance movie.

The night before your wedding and something terrible goes wrong. It’s a sign!

“I think it’s just perfectly me.” You said, talking about your wedding dress.

“Sounds perfect to me then.” Harry paused for a moment. “Baby, did you walk under an archway, like, uh, a stone archway covered in pink flowers?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t remember.” You ran a stressed hand over your forehead.

“Okay. That’s okay.”

“Everyone’s going to be so mad at me.” You began getting frustrated with yourself. “Fuck.” You breathed in a sob and exhaled with a bigger breath.

“Promise you no one’s mad, baby. Gem has messaged me a thousand times asking if you’re okay. I can’t even answer ‘cause this bloody maps apps is a fucking nuisance. I swear to–”

“Harry?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up from your knees to check your phone. He was still on the line. “Hello?”

“Y/N!” Harry shouted your name, but not from down the phone.

You could see Harry walking over to you very quickly, clearly panting from having run street after street.

“H.” You dropped your phone and cried as you saw him faster approach you.

Definitely a moment worthy of a romcom.

Harry was probably living his Ryan Gosling dreams.

“Baby, hey. I’m here. You’re okay.” Harry sank down to the floor and scooped his arms around you, pulling you close and squeezing oh so tight.

He sank down to his bum and leaned against the wall, pulling your entirely onto his lap. Too close wasn’t an option right now.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you sat sideways on his lap. Your face was tucked under his chin and his head rested on top of yours. You cried as Harry held you tight.

You couldn’t see Harry’s facial expressions but he was breathing out sighs of relief, some tears in his own eyes from the adrenaline of trying to find you. He had been just as scared as you, but had to remain strong for you. Now he had you he could let it all out.

“You’re never going to the toilet alone again.” Harry laughed. You laughed back.

“Deal.”

“That was scary.” Harry kind of mumbled, but you heard him anyways. He kissed your head a few times and you melted at the feel.

“Harry.”

“Yeah, love?”

“My head is so dizzy.”

Harry used a hand to tilt your head up so he could see your face. He noticed your mascara ridden face first of all, but beneath that you were all beauty.

“Tequila is only our friend for two rounds, remember?” He laughed at you. He was able to tell from your eyes that you weren’t exceedingly drunk, but definitely tipsy.

“I did not remember.”

He nuzzled his nose against yours as he shook his head with a grin. “You’re such a handful, you.”

“M’sorry.” You pouted.

“Never said I didn’t love you as a handful.”

“Do you? Love me a handful?” You used a hand to stroke over his cheek that had gotten so scruffy with the stubble he was trying to grow.

“‘Course. Love you every way and anyway. Love you so much. Love you until my body literally decomposes my wedding ring off my finger, and then some more.”

“That was dark, even for a 2AM drunk thought.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Harry chuckled, noticing that smile on your face becoming more and more permanent.

“But I’ll love you for the same.” You promised.

Harry kissed you then, not wasting another moment of this evening away from you. Well, morning now. His lips were soft against yours and you smiled into the kiss, happy that he was here with you even if it was under really weird circumstances.

“Let’s go, trouble. We’ll go back to the hotel and I’ll kiss you all night.”

“Don’t you want to spend the rest of your night with the boys? You know, last night as a free man?” Even though you were suggesting this, all you actually wanted to do was kiss, kiss and kiss him.

“Free man?” Harry furrowed his eyebrows with disgust, “What are you talking about?”

“You know? People say the last night before they get married is their last chance to be free?”

“Why would I need to be free when I’ve got you? I’m choosing you, like I always have. Never needed to be free.”

You smiled warmly at him. “I’m shackling you to me for life.”

“Too right you are, baby. Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Now, take me home, trouble.” You giggled.

“Oh. So I’m the trouble now?”

liked by gemmastyles and 682,928 others

yourinstagram tomorrow i get your last name forever <3 p.s. i would like to state that harry bought himself that tshirt :)

view all 78,977 comments

harryfan1 oh to be y/n l/n

jeffezoff Where did you two go?

harryfan2 moustacherry fans rrIISEEEEE

harryfan3 wish my bf supported me with tshirts like that

jamescorden Tequila anyone?

harrystyles I am planning on wearing that tshirt tomorrow.

yourinstagram @/harrystyles the tshirt but nothing else please

gemmastyles @/jamescorden They aren’t coming back for tequila….

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hand Necklace (3 of 4)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: wall sex, floor sex, clothes ripping, rough sex, possessive / protective Simon, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), mating press, established relationship

Word Count: 940

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Simon's possessive nature takes over.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // hand necklace masterlist

When the key slides into the lock, and you hear the familiar click of the deadbolt, you sigh with relief.

The rain is coming down in sheets, and you’re soaked, the black cocktail dress you’re wearing nothing more than a limp rag. You step inside the apartment you share with Simon, shivering slightly once you’re through the door. When the door shuts, you check the locks. It’s a habit Simon has drilled into your head time and time again.

Groaning, you reach down to take off a heel, wanting to be out of these fucking torture devices. The moment your gaze flicks upward from the floor, you freeze, noticing the figure standing at the end of the short entrance hallway.

“Simon?”

He steps into the small slash of moonlight that somehow—impossibly—comes through the tiny window at the very top of the front door. Simon is without his balaclava but there is still some smudged eye black, as if he couldn’t wash it all away. Other than that, Simon is in his casual clothes: black joggers, black socks, and a black t-shirt that stretches tightly over his muscles.

“Have fun?” he asks. Simon’s tone is flat, and usually that means he’s up to something.

“You already know the answer. Probably watching me instead of playing games with Soap on Discord,” you tease, aware that you’re pushing his buttons.

Simon is notorious for knowing your every step and breath. It’s haunting just how precise he is on exactly where you are and what you’re doing at all times. Most people might call that overbearing or even obsessive, but it only makes you feel safe. It means Simon is always there, and you can rely on him to come for you when you need him the most.

He starts taking slow, precision-laced steps toward you. “I watched you, and played with Johnny. That’s what having two screens is for.” The tips of his fingers brush against the bit of exposed bare thigh. “Did anyone touch what’s mine? Do I need to cut off some hands?”

“Stop that, Simon,” you chide, smacking his solid chest, only to grimace and shake your hand with how fucking hard his pectorals are. The man is a goddamn wall.

“No hands? What about throats?” Those fingers that are only grazing against you become a full, warm palm. Simon’s fingers dig into your flesh, and he uses that leverage to draw you even closer to him.

“You know it’s never that serious,” you murmur.

Simon’s answer is a low growl as he grabs the front of your neck and pushes you up against the wall. He traps you with his body, creating a cage you cannot escape from. He is so large like this, and it only sends your body into a heated tingle, the place between your thighs warming with need.

With a swiftness that steals your breath, Simon slides his free arm behind the backs of your thighs, lifting and pinning you against the wall. Your legs part easily, wrapping around his middle. Your arms go up and lock behind his neck. The black cocktail dress you wear has nowhere to go expect up, collecting at your waist, exposing your pussy to him.

“You’re not wearing underwear,” growls Simon.

You smirk, and reach down between your bodies, pushing down the elastic band of his black joggers until his cock is free. Simon is already hard, and he groans when you palm him.

“I like to make it easy for you,” you tease, smiling softly.

Simon’s next move is anything but soft. He drops his hand from your neck to adjust his grip, moving both hands to your hips. You’re truly pinned to the wall, unable to go anywhere. Simon knows this, and he lines the head of his cock up to your entrance, thrusting forward in one swift buck of his hips.

“Oh—Fuck!” you cry out, immediately clenching around him.

“Dirty. Fucking. Girl,” grunts Simon between each thrust.

He is relentless, fucking you until the photographs on the wall shake and fall off their mounts, clattering to the floor. Simon buries his face in your neck, nips at your skin, and then guides you away from the wall, bouncing you on his cock as he stands there.

“Simon,” you moan, urging him to take this elsewhere. “Bedroom.”

“No. I’m fucking you right here.”

Simon guides the two of you down to the floor. His cock slides out of you as you lay flat on your back. You start to reach for him, but Simon only grabs at your dress, fingers curling at the neckline.

“Sorry, love,” he says before ripping the dress right down the middle. “Can’t wait.”

You’re too shocked to say anything because Simon is pushing your legs up toward your chest, baring down on the backs of your thighs only to slide home again. Simon does not use the floor but your throat as his anchor.

Both of his hands slide up your body and grab hold, truly keeping you against the floor. Simon’s grip is strong but not enough to steal your breath. You’re utterly dominated, and it’s fucking amazing.

Simon’s pace is relentless, hitting deep, claiming every bit of your pussy for himself. This always happens when you come home. He has to mark and reclaim every single inch of your body. And fuck—he’s doing exactly that, groaning above you with each thrust.

“Who do you belong to, love?”

“You.”

“Say my fucking name.” Simon snaps his hips forward, stills and slowly grinds his pelvis against your clit until your body quivers.

“You, Simon. Always you.”

“Goddamn right.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @wrathofcats @keiva1000 @pertinentpostmortem @enfppixie @bbyfimmie @cinnabeanz @berarenado @rogerrhqpsody @josephquinnschesthair @saoirse06 @therealbloom @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien

[inkdrinkerworld]

for soft beefy!james... he’s so the type to cry when you cry. like you come to him in tears and immediately he’s pulling you into his lap and cradling your face in his big hands, using his thumbs to brush away your tears and asking you what happened... getting teary when you sob even if it’s over something frivolous bc it hurts his heart. idk if this is anything, feel free to just ignore but i love the way you write your beefy!james <3

oh my goodness!! this is perfect!!! mention of hate from super fans of rugby but not descriptive

he's just come back from training when he hears the hiccupping breath. it's not often that james is greeted with your tears and he feels his chest constrict at the sound of them.

"angel?" he calls, toeing off his shoes as he ventures further into the living room for you.

you're laying on your side, face halfway smushed into a pillow as your body shakes with your sobs.

"angel, what's wrong?" he asks, dropping to his knees before you. james' hands are gentle where they wipe away the racing tears.

he can feel his own emotions rising, feeling the pinpricks of tears pooling behind his eyes.

you heave a breath, clearly trying to speak. james gives you time, "m'not-" you pause, inhaling deeply, "saw that stupid advert, the one with the dogs in the shelter."

james coos, picking you up easily and fitting you in his lap as he sits on the floor. you twist in his lap and say, "m'gross jamie, got tears and snot all over my face."

james manages a laugh, though it's not his usual one. "no you don't," he kisses your tear stained cheek. "you sure the advert was the only thing?"

his hand rubs your back, waiting for your answer. you deliberate while you twist at the hem of his shirt. "saw the messages under that post," james knows which one you're talking about instantly. "s'not very nice."

james feels the pinpricks again and nudges your face with his nose. "want me to do something about it?" he knows you're a big girl, that you can handle your own battles, but james hates the ideas that some of the teams' fans can be vile.

"no no," your tone is firm. james still wants to fight it though, he wants to let is be known that it isn't alright. "it'll pass right?" you ask, eyes shining with unshed tears as you look up at james.

"course it will," he kisses your forehead, fishing his phone from his pocket.

"jamie, what are you doing?" you yawn through the words and james knows that if he doesn't get up now, you're both going to remain on the floor during your nap.

"making sure you're okay, angel." he selects a photo of you from his camera roll- one of you in his team's hoodie as you watch the game at home.

"can i?" he asks, just to be sure. your nod is hesitant. a kiss is pressed to the column of his throat in thanks.

it's a picture that his mum had taken the last time he had an away game that you couldn't go to.

'biggest supporter, biggest love xx' is the caption, james kissing your teary face one last time before standing up.

"let's go take a nap, angel;" he holds you to his chest as he walks to the room. "i love you." you kiss him, soft and slow, and a little sticky from where your tears have met his dry cheeks.

"i love you too, jamie."

[mournings-stars]

literally just smut under the cut

sub!luci x fem!reader with a little bit of sensitive wings a little bit of a mommy kink and a little bit of a breeding kink and edging but also pussydrunk luci and face sitting… idk i just need to ruin him like...

“Need my help?” You asked gently, fingers tracing Lucifer’s chest and abdomen. One arm rested on his chest, your head resting there and listening to his quick breathing and heart rate as you watched his hand around his throbbing cock. His other arm was around you, hand resting on your bare hip and squeezing as he huffed. “Come on, baby, talk to me.”

You’d been making him edge himself for longer than he could remember, his mind fuzzy as he tried his hardest not to cum. He knew the moment you touched him, he'd crumble, but he nodded anyway. “Yes,” he whimpered, dropping his hand. 

“Yeah?” You cooed, watching the way his hips twitched in anticipation, your hand running down his abdomen. He hummed, barely able to speak. “Mhm,” you mocked, pressing on his lower stomach. His hips thrusted and you hushed him, massaging slow circles to make him whine. “Words, pretty boy. I know you can…”

“Yes, please,” he corrected and you eased the pressure on his stomach, tracing the sensitive skin with your fingertips. 

“Good boy,” you praised and he sighed, head lolling back and replying your praise over and over, getting him even more worked up. “You like when I call you my good boy, Luci?” You asked, watching as precum bubbled dripped down his tip as he nodded. That was exactly why you didn’t face him, he had a habit of not speaking when he got too worked up. “Answer me, baby,” you urged, pressing a gentle kiss to his chest. 

“Yes,” he answered breathlessly. “I’m your good boy.”

“That’s right, baby,” you cooed, palming his tip and making him whine, “you’re all mine.”

“All yours,” he muttered, gripping your hip to try not to focus on your hand. 

He only succeeded for a moment before your hand replaced his, grasping his cock and pumping at an agonizingly slow pace that made him turn his head and whine into his pillow. Your thumb ran over his tip and you felt him twitch. “Ah-ah, hold it,” your voice became harsh and he cursed as he gripped your hip so hard that you knew it would bruise. “Luci,” your warning voice sent him over the edge, making you have to take your hand off of him so he didn’t finish. “Want a break—?“

“No.”

Your brows shot up as you sat up slightly to turn and face him. “No?” You dragged the tips of your fingers slowly up and down his length, watching the way his brows furrowed. 

“Wanna cum,” he begged, giving you the sweetest, most pleading expression you’d seen from him. 

“Oh.” You laughed, shaking your head. He pouted at the denial, but you shocked him when you asked, “Where?” He blinked, wings suddenly fluffing out from beneath him at the simple idea of an option. You smiled, free hand tracing the tip of his wing as your hand gripped him again, pumping slowly. His eyes rolled back, mouth falling open as his hips jerked. “On my tits?” You suggested, urging him to answer and still stroking his wing as you stroked his cock, making his mind go numb. “On my face?” He barely shook his head, but you understood. “Where, baby? In my mouth?”

“Don’t…” He forced himself to respond, “don’t make me say it,” he groaned and you smirked, straddling his thigh and pressing yourself against him. He moaned, hand quickly moving to your back and pressing you down. “Please.” He could feel your wetness on his thigh, cock aching to be inside of you, filling you up. 

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” you said quietly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before you kissed his cheek, then jaw. Your mouth drifted to his neck, hot, open mouthed kisses making him moan as you pressed your knee against him and let your hands run across his trembling wings. “You wanna breed me, Lucifer? Is that what you don’t want me to make you say?” 

His hips bucked up; the way you whispered, the way your breath fanned his ear, the way you said his name, the way you touched his wings… he wasn’t sure he could keep this up much longer and you could tell, so you coaxed him into waiting just a little longer, “You’ve been very good.” He nodded as your hand cupped his cheek, finally stopping the torture on his wings as your face hovered over his, lips grazing his with every word. He didn’t know what was more torturous, your lips teasing his and your beauty so close that he couldn’t look away, or your relentless hands and voice making his mind blank. “You think you deserve that?” He nodded fervently. “Then say it.”

He was in a trance just looking in your eyes, feeling your hands brush his hair out of his face — feeling your cunt drip onto his thigh. His hands gripped your hips and you pressed your knee into him, making him whine, “I wanna breed you. Please,” he begged, trying his hardest not to grind against you. “Wanna be inside you—“

“Do you want that, or do you want to make me cum?” He saw the way your gaze fell to his mouth and his eyes shone red. This was more torturous, he decided, knowing what he’d choose. “Come on, Lu—“

“Sit on my face,” he said quickly, blinking away the red in his eyes. “Fuck, mommy, please.” Your cunt pooled at the title, but he didn’t even notice he said it, continuing to beg until you moved off of his thigh and up to his face. 

“Calm down,” you eased, taking his hands that had been pulling you toward him and pinning them above his head, “I’m giving you what you want, just relax…“

“Thank you,” he moaned, hips squirming in anticipation. 

The moment you put your leg over his head, he pulled you down and shut his eyes, lying his tongue on your wet cunt and making you sigh. As soon as he tasted you, his horns formed, making your hips jerk. He held them still, forcing you further down as his tongue worked to clean up every last drop of your arousal before resting on your clit.

He sucked your clit into his mouth and your hands immediately grasped his horns, making him moan against you, sending a soft vibrating pleasure up your body that he took note of. He continued to moan against you as his tongue circled gently, slowly adding more and more pressure until your thighs were trembling. 

“Ah, you’re doing so good, baby,” you praised through panting breaths. “So fucking good.” He hummed, tongue teasing your entrance and making you moan. 

His hips jerked at the sound, his cock flushed and painfully hard. You reached a hand back to help him, but he quickly grabbed it and put it right back where it was, red eyes opening to look up at you as his long tongue pushed inside of you. They rolled back at the taste, a satisfied moan leaving his mouth before he lifted his head slightly, pulling you down even more to get his face pressed as close to you as possible. His eyes shut once again, his tongue relentless inside you and against your clit as you trembled and moaned above him. 

You couldn’t even praise him, but he didn’t care, too enthralled to even hear any praise you’d try to give. He heard your whimpering, felt your muscles contracting after just a short time with his tongue on you, but he didn’t stop. He felt your thighs shake and body hunch over, but he continued without a care, hips desperately grinding up against nothing as she sucked and licked at your pussy until you could barely even moan. 

He held you down until your hips were writhing on his tongue and your cum was all over his face, dripping down his chin and cheeks, but he didn’t stop. Even after you finished, moaning loudly and attempting to lift your hips, he pulled you down and turned you on your back, pressing your thighs down and his hand into your lower stomach as he overstimulated you, making you whine and shake in pleasure. 

All he wanted now was to please you. He wanted to keep tasting you, keep making you writhe and moan, keep using his mouth to make you feel good. He wanted to make you feel so good that you couldn’t even moan, just cumming over and over on his tongue because he was that fucking good for you. 

He didn’t stop until you were pushing at his horns, moaning his name over and over until he lifted his head. His eyes were red and his mouth was parted slightly as he looked at you. He licked his lips, savoring your taste with a fucked out grin. “One more,” he said breathlessly, hands stroking your thighs. His head dipped back down, gently kissing your wet lips. “Need to make you feel good, mommy. One more.”

You knew if you gave into him now, you’d be giving into him all night; one more, after one more, after one more, like he wanted. You shook your head and he whined, kissing the inside of your thigh as he continued to say, “please, mommy,” over and over, making it so hard to resist him. “I’ve been so good. Need to be better — I’ll make you feel so good. Please…” His teeth sunk into your thigh, making you shudder when he licked the blood that trickled down. He was trying his hardest not to do the same to your pussy, forcing himself to kiss and lick at your thighs until he had to bite to keep himself at bay. “Just one more—“

Instead, you said what you knew would get him out of this rut, taking his face in your hands and making him come up to your level. His eyes immediately met yours, wide and eager to please. “No more, baby—“

“Why?” He whined, hands now running across your thighs, your arousal coating them and making him try to pull his head out of your grasp. 

“Maybe you forgot…” You kissed his cheek and brought your lips to his ear, smiling at the way his wings flared when you said, “I want you to breed me.”

[acapelladitty]

`♡° kinktober 2024! ---

☆ kink: lapdance

☆ pairing: Oswald Cobblepot/Reader

☆ summary: Oz has something you want and you know exactly how to get it.

kinktober '24 ☆ main masterlist ☆ ao3

Unveiling your outfit with a dramatic flourish, you allow the long trench coat to drop to the floor as you arch your back and stand in what you hope is a sexy pose. The thin, barely there material which makes up the bra and panties set that only just covers your most intimate parts is paired with fishnet thigh-highs which cling to your lotion-soaked skin.

Giving a low appreciate whistle as he taps his fingers against the wide leather chair which houses him, Oz is clearly impressed with the look if the predatory leer which jumps into his thick features is anything to go by.

“Hmm, looking good, doll. Haven’t seen an outfit like that in a while,” he praises, his right hand falling from the arm of the chair as he adjusts the groin of his slacks. “So, what’s this going to cost me?”

Immediately found out, you bite back the laugh which threatens to break free of your lips as you instead give a quick twirl – showcasing every inch of you in the vague hopes of distracting him from his suspicions.

“You really think I would use an opportunity like this just to get something? Oz…really? Maybe I just wanted to show you a real good time.”

“I’m still not hearing the ask, sweetheart.”

“Well,” you pause to unlatch the hooks of your bra, allowing the thin material to drop to the ground as you stand tall and allow your tits to hang free in the warm air, “if I was looking for something, there’s a pretty little dress in the window of that Italian boutique that Silver St Cloud owns.”

“Cheap as hell, I’m sure,” Oz mutters and his eyes narrow at you with a definite playful edge that let you know he was still somewhat amenable to your wiles. “My wallet isn’t as thick as my gut, doll.”

“Mmm,” you shift forward to place your hands on his knees and gently spread his legs apart, “I’m sure your wallet is big and thick enough to give me what I need.”

“You sure?”

“Oh, yeah. I’d love to touch it and feel it in my hand.”

“How’s your mouth feeling about it?” Flashing his teeth, Oz groans as you turn in place and sit pretty in his lap – making sure to press your ass against his cock as it remained trapped in his slacks.

You tilt your head back at him and sigh as his hands swiftly shift to wrap around your torso and grope at your exposed tits, the feel of his thick fingers grasping at your skin instantly making your cunt ache as you slowly rotate your ass in his lap. While a lapdance wasn’t your area of expertise, Oz was never one to complain about getting a free show and if the bulge of his cock was anything to go by, he certainly was enjoying himself.

Rubbing yourself on his wide frame like a cat in heat, the thrum of the club music which rattles the almost-soundproofed windows helps to guide your movements as you match its beat; swaying, grinding, and running your hands across his body as you work him into a subtle frenzy.

“I’m gonna fuck you silly tonight, doll. You won’t be able to walk straight.”

“Is that right Mr. Cobblepot?” Answering him with a husky tone, you drop into his lap and face him directly – wrapping your hands around his neck and pressing your tits into his chest. His thick thighs provide a solid base for you to grind on and you roll your hips against his groin, the slightly slickened panties sliding across his tented bulge in a wicked tease, “We’ll see.”

You focus on your dancing, loving how solid he feels beneath you with every slow movement that you tease across his body. His suit is a very deep purple, almost black in the limited light, and the texture of it is soft against your skin as you slip off his lap and drop to the floor – turning so that you can kneel between his spread legs.

Catching his zipper between your teeth, you pull it down slowly and enjoy the way that his chest visibly hitches as your mouth dives further to mouth at his cock through the thick material of his boxers.

“You’re a menace, doll,” Oz groans, slipping his back down a notch lower to give you all the access you need.

Smiling up at him, you drop his cock from your mouth and instead slip your hand past the waistband of his boxers – pulling his cock free with a pleased sigh as you run your fingers across the fat length. He was thick, the thickest you’d ever known, and you hum excitedly as you take in the small, pearlescent bead of pre-cum which sits prettily at his slit of his cock. You swipe your thumb across it and admire how it makes his breath stutter.

Openly groaning as you work his painfully-hard cock over with your talented hand, it’s not much of a surprise when you feel his length twitch after only a few strokes and he spills his release across your fingers with a low growl – his hand dropping past your hand to grip your tit roughly as he rides out his orgasm on your willing chest.

His cum is warm against your hand and you don’t stop stroking him until he shifts with the beginnings of overstimulated discomfort and grips your upper arm firmly to pull you back up onto his lap.

“What colour?” Oz pants, his breathing not quite yet caught back up to him.

You settle into his lap, wiping the mess of his release on the upper part of your panties, “Hmm?”

“The dress. What colour was it?”

“Red.”

“Get it, and order another in purple,” lip curling at the corner, Oz spares you a soft wink, “Deep purple. The kind that I like.”

Laying against his chest, you give him a throaty giggle as you link your fingers within his own, admiring how heavily his rings sat against your smaller fingers, “Thanks, Oz. When I get them delivered, you’ll be first in line to get another private showing.”

“Damn right I will.”

[phosphostar]

Need a good ending for Mouthwashing, where everyone is safe and sound (is Jimmy dead)

Can I have a Headcannons where Curly has been missing for a while year and he reunites with his s/o he founds out they had their child and he’s meeting his baby for the first time?

If you don’t feel comfortable writing them this feel free to skip it.

YES I CAN SO DO THIS!!!! i might make it a fic tbh. not sure yet.

𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤

cw: medical talk/setting, fem!reader, they have a a daughter. , curly has stubs still, and is still healing from some surgeries.

426

426 days since i last saw him.

the trip was only supposed to be 382 days. why is it taking twice that? i’ve called anya, she answered. swansea, he answered. jimmy, he didn’t answer. and him. i called him, maybe more than a normal person would’ve. to no avail. none of them would tell me what happened, as if they had an oath.

“was i not one of his emergency contacts?” i think out loud in my car as i go to pick up my daughter from my mother’s house. he never found out about her. i was around 3 months when i decided to take a test, and he was already 2 months into his shipment. she’s only 4 months. she’s got his blue eyes, with dirty blonde hair. she looks almost exactly like him, but she got my nose. my mind reels as i think of her party, of what’s for dinner, what laundry i need to do, and him. all of a sudden, im broken out of my trance from a phone call. i pull over as i answer, realizing it’s the local hospital.

“hello? this is cedar crest general hospital with the burn unit. we’re inquiring about ms. (l/n).” i’m confused. burn unit? what? “yes, uhm, that’s me. may i ask why?” “we have your significant other with us, grant curly. as you may know, he was a pilot for the freight space shuttle company pony express. one of their shipments exploded, the tulpar, and he was given the brunt of the impact.” i’m shocked. all i can do is listen as tears silently drop down my cheeks.

“ma’am? hello?” “i’m so sorry, i’m here.” i sniffle as i continue driving, needing to pick up our daughter. “he is ready to have visitors, and would like to know if you can visit?” “i can. of course i can.” im elated. oh my god. he’s going to meet her. oh my god. “perfect. he’s in room 236, in the burn unit. make sure you tell the front office his room and unit, along with name and birthdate. have a wonderful day.”

with that, she hangs up. i finally reach my moms house. while naomi, our daughter, is playing with some toys, i tell my mom everything. she’s shocked. i pick up my daughter and put her in her car seat. i quickly begin to drive over to the hospital, calling anya as quickly as i can. when she picks up, i tell her everything, crying as im elated he’s okay. once i reach the hospital, i hang up. i grab my daughter and walk up to the front desk.

“hi, i’m here to see grant curly? he’s room 236, burn unit. his birthday is 11/09/xxxx.” i hand her my id, and she scans it. she takes a photo of my face, and hands me back my entrance pass and id. i quickly walk to the burn unit, naomi bouncing happily on my hip as i slow down. i reach his room and shush her. i knock and a faint “come in!” is said.

i walk in, and i see a doctor hunched over. she quickly walks over to me and ushers me out of the room. “ms. (l/n), correct?” “yes, that’s me.” i smile nervously, and naomi waves at her. “im dr. hause, taking care of curly. as explained to you over the phone, he was involved in a large crash. luckily, a crew member of his placed him in a cryo pod. he has extensive damage to his skin, from both head damage and the pod’s freezing temperatures. he looks nearly nothing like he did before, and never will. please be patient and compassionate.” my eyes widen, terrified at what this all meant. i nod wordlessly, and she allows me in. his head turns slightly, and my eyes water. “oh.. curly..” i whisper as i hurry over to his bedside. i softly cup his scared face in my hand, careful of his still healing stitches.

“curly..” i whisper, and his stub lifts up slowly to touch my arm. “love…” he answers, and i stifle back a sob, his accent just a little off. he’s still got his blue eyes and curly blonde hair. well, one eye. and some hair. “who’s.. she?” he asks, looking at naomi.

[petertingle-yipyip]

MOONLIGHT - BELLAMY BLAKE

Pairing: Bellamy x reader

Word Count: 2,247

Summary: A quick hunting run goes bad so you’re forced to make a choice, but as expected, Bellamy is on your side. Finding some quiet afterwards allows a kinder moment amongst the chaos of the Ground.

Benefit of being older than The 100, they for the most part saw you as an authority figure. There were some that saw you as an equal and it all made no difference to you.

You were on the Ground. You were with people you cared about. Ultimately, you still won.

Everything seemed okay until one day, you were out with a small group that Bellamy assigned for you to hunt with. You had just thrown the small, handmade knife at the creature that you hadn’t even fully identified. Before you could get closer and regather your weapon, you were shoved from behind.

You hit face first against a tree and your skin burned with the new scrape. A hand landed on each arm and two hit at the base of your shoulders to pull your arms back while keeping you pressed against the rough bark.

“What the hell is this?” You asked angrily, jerking against the grip. It did nothing to free you, only anger the new marks on your cheek.

“Now that we’re far enough from camp, Bellamy can’t come to your rescue.” Murphy said from behind you. “We’ve come to a decision.”

“Great way to start.” You muttered, to which a new hand landed on the back of your head and pushed down to drag your face along the surface. You bit down the sound as you felt the new tears across your skin. “What do you want?” You asked loudly instead.

“We want you off the hunting team.” He answered flatly.

“What? Why? I’m the best hu-”

“You’re not the best.” He laughed. “You slow us down, actually. Just because you’re with Bellamy doesn’t mean you can get in my way.”

“You’re a goddamn idiot. Are you that self-centered that you can’t see this has nothing to do with Bellamy? I can track. I aced Earth botany. I can handle a blade better than any of you.”

They pulled you back and slammed you against the tree again.

“Everyone else is gonna starve because of your arrogance.” You warned.

“I think they’ll be fine.” He said and you just barely see the smirk. “You should worry about yourself.”

“Alright, fine.” You conceded.

It just wasn’t worth the fight.

“What was that?”

“Fine.” You said louder and your arms were released. “I’ll talk to Bellamy when we get back.”

“And this is your idea, right?”

You ground your teeth. “Right.”

Murphy smiled in triumph and gestured for you to guide the way. The other two went to gather the dead animal that you had nearly forgotten about. As they were dragging the carcass by, you stopped to free your knife and shove it back under your belt. You pressed gentle fingers against your cheek and felt the thin bunches of peeled skin accompanied with the slick feeling of fresh blood.

You kept your head down as you reentered camp. The boys were met with proud cheers and you were more worried about keeping your face hidden that you ran into Octavia.

“Hey.” She greeted before reaching for your shoulder. “What the hell happened out there?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head. “Where’s Bell?”

“Either in his tent or the Dropship. Y/N, what-“

“And Clarke?”

She sighed slightly, as if realizing you weren’t going to talk about it.

“Her tent.”

“Great, thanks.” You smiled quickly but her frown froze you for a second longer. “Don’t tell your brother?”

“He’s gonna see your face.” She complained.

“I know but by then, I’ll have an excuse. Please, Octavia.”

“Fine.” She sighed and you heard Bellamy’s voice in the distance.

“Thank you.” You nodded and ducked again before pushing through the crowd gathering to see what the team brought back.

You pushed into Clarke’s tent and there she was with Finn.

“I need your help.” You confessed and gestured to your face.

“Y/N, oh my god!” She exclaimed and ushered you to sit beside her.

You dropped cross-legged on the floor and shrugged your jacket off. Your hands landed in your lap as you allowed Clarke to move your face by your chin.

“This has gone too far.” She scolded.

“This was Murphy again?” Finn asked from Clarke’s side, shooting you wide and worried eyes.

“Yeah.” You admitted. “They want me off hunting, said I slow them down.” You mocked before blowing a sigh. “It’s not worth the fight anymore.”

“If you come off hunting, they’re gonna have to go more often. They don’t bring in enough when it’s just them.”

“They don’t care.” You shrugged. “But between them slamming into me, tripping me, pushing me, and now scratching the hell outta my face, I’m done with their little power plays. They wanna hunt so bad, be my guest.”

“What are you gonna tell Bellamy?” Clarke asked as she gently pressed a torn cloth to the sticky wounds and you winced. “Not much we can do to hide these.”

“That I’m too clumsy? Or I’m bored? I don’t know but I can’t tell him it was their idea. I get enough shit for the whole ‘king and queen’ thing.”

“He’s gonna lose his shit if he finds out. I mean, you heard what he did to Atom for kissing Octavia.” Finn continued. “Can’t imagine what he’d do to them for this.”

“I know.” You agreed and began to untie the braid you had done to keep your hair out of the way while you were hunting. “Hence why I have to convince him it’s my idea.”

“What’s your idea?” Bellamy spoke as he entered the tent and you jumped, shoving the cloth away and dropping your gaze down so your hair would hide your face.

“Finn, help me find the extra seaweed from the river that we used on Jasper.” Clarke said and you looked up at her in a panic. “I think it’ll help.” She offered genuinely.

“Help with what?” Bellamy asked. “Something happen out there?”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, Clarke.” You said through tight teeth and you subtly jerked your head towards Bellamy. “Don’t leave now.”

“What happened to your face, Y/N?” Bellamy asked, now kneeling in front of you.

You heard the two sets of feet leave and you sighed to yourself. With no other options, you tucked your hair out of the way and looked up to face him. You watched his eyes scan your face and linger on the still burning wounds on the side of your face. His jaw clenched and he took a deep breath before he took one of your hands in his.

“Who was it?” He asked lowly, staring at your joined hands.

“I tripped.” You lied and his shoulders shook slightly with a quiet laugh of disbelief. “Really, Bell. It’s fine.”

“Who did this to you, Y/N?” He urged, meeting your eyes. The anger in his stare could’ve burned a hole through the Ark.

“It…” You sighed and understood that there was no way that lie would work. “I don’t know who it was. They came up behind me and hit me against the roughest tree in the damn forest, apparently… But it does bring up something we need to talk about.”

He nodded for you to continue.

“I think, for a little while at least, I need to be off the hunting team.” You spoke carefully, treading lightly to avoid incriminating Murphy - despite deeply wanting to - and pissing off Bellamy more than he already was. “Something’s happened on almost every trip and it’s not productive.”

“What else has happened?” His brows furrowed.

Carefully, you lifted your shirt to show the bruise on your ribs from where Murphy had shoulder-checked you into a thick fallen tree trunk. Then you shifted the waistband in your pants to show the small collections of pricks from where Murphy pushed you into a small thorned bush. You flipped your lower lip to show the deep purple patch from the low hanging branch Murphy smacked you with. You pulled down the collar of your shirt to show your chest, littered with bruises and small knicks from the various falls you’d suffered by Murphy’s design.

“Just let Murphy lead them for a while.” You shrugged.

“They can’t feed this camp without you.” Bellamy shook his head. “What you brought in today will last us three or four days. They can barely get us through two.”

“Then send others with them to make up for it. I don’t know what you want from me, Bell.”

“I want you to tell me the truth.” He urged gently, though the demand didn’t go unnoticed. “One of those guys out there do this to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You sighed. “Tell me you agree.”

“I will when you tell me the truth.”

“Bellamy.” You groaned, drawing out his name.

He raised his eyebrows with a tilt of his head and you pursed your lips to form a small pout. The stare down only lasted for a few seconds before you broke and stared at your hands, safely tucked away within his grasp.

You knew you were safe with Bellamy. You could tell him anything, that much he always promised you. But Murphy was crafty, sneaky. He’d find a way to get to you when Bellamy wasn’t looking.

Yet if you told Bellamy, maybe he would be looking more often.

“Murphy and I got into an argument.” You began, carefully choosing your words. “We went back and forth and then I got shoved. I don’t know if he orchestrated it or if someone was just being opportunistic but I can’t keep this up. I’m tired and my body hurts and I just need a break.”

He nodded slightly, clearly still processing your words. You watched his eyes for some sort of hint to his reaction, but he was guarded in his thought process. His put a hand on your unmarked cheek and his thumb stroked your cheekbone gently.

“Okay.” He said quietly.

“That’s it?” You quirked a brow. “No trying to convince me otherwise?”

“No.” He laughed slightly. “Y/N, you’ve been out there fighting for us and taking all sorts of beatings. If that’s what you want, let Murphy get kicked around for a while.” He shrugged.

At that, you laughed.

Bellamy made the announcement later that day that you were taking a small break from hunting. You’d agreed to help build the wall while your latest injuries healed and offered to go wherever you were needed. No one said anything otherwise and you were glad it was an easy change.

Murphy and his friends walked by with mock salutes or bows, muttering about the king and queen. You wanted to put your knife in them right there but Bellamy was smooth in draping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, even angling his body slightly in front of yours.

Once night came, you found yourself sitting on a log a few feet outside the wall. You had one leg up and your arms wrapped around it, head leaning against the side of your knee. Your eyes were upwards, counting the stars and trying to see the craters on the moon.

“Didn’t see enough space on the Ark?” Bellamy asked as he sat beside you.

“It’s different from here.” You reasoned. “It all seems so far away.”

“Yeah… You sure you’re alright?”

“Long live the king and queen.” You mocked. “They’re so stupid.”

He hummed in agreement.

“Us being together isn’t the only factor in us taking charge around here. We’re older. We’re smarter. We-“ You looked over and saw he was staring, soft eyes and a small smile on his lips. “Alright, lover boy. Are you even listening?” You laughed slightly.

“No.” He confessed with a laugh of his own. “I got distracted.”

“By what?” You were still smiling.

“Your eyes. The way they reflect the moonlight.”

“Oh.” Your cheeks flushed and your teasing smile became one of slight embarrassment.

“Every look, especially right now, makes me wanna give you… Everything.”

“Everything?” Your brows raised and you shifted to face him.

He reached for your hand and you gave it to him immediately.

“You are the queen after all.” He joked and you scoffed with a smile, pushing lightly at his chest.

“Aren’t you hilarious?” You said sarcastically before turning your face back to the sky. “I’ve always loved the moon, y’know. But down here, it’s like you can hold the moonlight.”

You reached your other hand out and cupped it, letting the moonlight illuminate your palm and fingers. You leaned back against Bellamy’s chest and he draped an arm over your shoulder, still keeping hold of your hand. You felt his chin on the other side and you let your head fall back a bit.

You understood exactly what he meant just a few moments ago. You wanted to give him everything too.

“Bell?” You asked simply.

“Mmm?” He hummed against the skin of your neck.

“You kinda remind me of moonlight.” You said simply.

“How?”

You shrugged slightly. “Different on the Ground. Beautiful and illuminating. Everyone looks at the moon and some love it, but the moon shines based on the sun. And when it does…”

“If I’m your moonlight, does that mean you’re my sunshine?” He asked and you wondered if he was serious or just teasing.

“Do you only light up ‘cause of me?”

“That’s why Octavia says.” He smiled at you. “I wouldn’t doubt it either.”

You smiled softly. “Then I guess so.”

[ninikrumbs]

Christmas love

satoru gojo x reader. for all my girlies spending christmas alone. fluffy fluff fluff. idiots in love. established relationship. ᰍ ׅ ۫ . 🧣 ೀ

The smell of cinnamon and pine wafts through the air, as Satoru and you left the Christmas Market. His hand held yours inside his jacket pocket as you watch him talk animatedly beside you.

“I’m sure my plans can’t compare to yours,sweets!”

Satoru was just about at the end of telling you his plans for the rest of Christmas week; Babbling excitedly about his Christmas dinner with his family, a short ski trip with Suguru and Shoko on the 25th, and even a reunion dinner with some old high school friends.

It wasn’t a surprise to you, Satoru was social, friendly, abundantly popular, and the life of every party so of course everyone wanted him around.

You laugh as genuinely as you could before answering him, “Of course! I’m jam packed, I feel like Christmas caroling is the only thing I’m not doing this week.”

Lies. Well not completely, you did have a few dinners lined up with a couple of close friends, even a birthday party. The only thing was your were gonna spend Christmas Eve and Christmas day alone.

A good few of your friends were married so they spent Christmas with their families or spouses, some where taking out of the country trips and some were working on Christmas day. It was a bit depressing, you weren’t exactly expecting to spend Christmas alone.

But at least you had today, which was your date with Satoru to go around the Christmas Village. You had fun, with the dinner, the ice skating, the slow dancing under the mistletoe with Satoru stealing a kiss, and now holding hands as the both of you walked to his car under the cold winter air. It was perfect.

Satoru’s lips quirk up, “Hmm, maybe we should go caroling next year! Start a new tradition together!”

While it moves your heart to bits that he can see you still being together next year this early into your one month relationship, it still stung that you won’t be spending Christmas with him this year. You honestly thought he would ask you when he started talking about his plans a few days ago, but then he started asking about your amazing plans so you decided to fib.

This connection is new and delicate. You couldn’t ask him to drop his traditions and plans for you; plans that were made before you started dating, that was just selfish and knowing him, he probably would drop everything if he found out about your non existent plans. So you chose not too, it’ll be fine, you’ll be fine.

You playfully roll your eyes at him, “Sure, Toru. You can take some singing lessons while your at it!”

He holds a hand to his heart in offense, gasping so dramatically, “I’ll have you know that I have the voice of an angel!”

“Babe..” You clasp his free hand before exhaling, “Whoever told you that was lying.”

You made a run for it the moment the words left your lips, laughing against the icy breeze.

Barely getting 5 steps away, strong arms capture your waist from behind, lifting you off your feet. Damn his long legs. “Gotcha!”

He places you down for one second before throwing you on his shoulder and starts walking.

“Satoru, put me down!” You grasp the back of his jacket, terrified of falling onto the icy pavement.

“Nope.” He says popping the p.

“I’m gonna fall!”

“You won’t.” Reassuring you by tightening his grasp on your waist.

“At least hold me with two arms!”

“Your man is the strongest, sweets. I only need one arm to carry you.”

You snort before mumbling, “Show off..”

He slaps a hand to your butt making you jump, startled. “I heard that.”

“Good.” Which earned you another soft spank to your butt, “Satoru! stop that and put me down, people are staring.”

Though you were sure they staring at your gorgeous boyfriend.

“Not until you say that your boyfriend is the most handsome man in the world and has a voice can even bring the dead to life!”

He was absolutely ridiculous, “No way!”

“Then your gonna be up there indefinitely.” He was joking you were sure of it, but there was nothing wrong in indulging him sometimes.

“Fine, I give!”

“Yessss!” He whoops in victory.

“Can you at least put me down?” You ask meekly.

He huffs, smoky air puffing out, “So you can run away again? Not happening.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I say it your face?”You say trying to convince him which makes him hum, thinking about it.

After a moment, he gently places you back on your feet but not without pulling you flush to his chest, holding you steady.

You were a little bit dizzy from the change of position, but you could still see Satoru’s bright azure eyes staring at you expectantly.

Once again, he was absolutely ridiculous yet you gaze at him with such exasperated fondness.

You reach up and softly brush his snowy bangs away from his face, your touch creating a light blush to dust his cheeks. “My boyfriend is the most handsome man in the world.”

Its makes his eyes gleam and smug smile curve on his lips. He was so pretty, so where was the lie?

“And..” You breathe out heavily as if it took everything in you say the next few words, “He has a voice that can bring the dead back to life.”

He grins victoriously and leans down to press a peck on your nose the your lips which makes you melt, “See? that wasn’t too hard.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” You grumble but with no real spunk behind it.

He presses another soft kiss to your lips, eyes filled with so much warmth, “The luckiest.”

You were still pouting when Satoru started walking towards the car again. Your gaze landing at your intertwined hands, no longer in his pocket. Your eyes drop when the reminder that you were gonna spend Christmas away from him creeps in your mind once more.

It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.

—

“Yeah, yeah, I’m all packed.” Satoru grumbles.

Shoko was nagging him about packing correctly for their ski trip. Make sure to bring your actual ski’s idiot. Like he didn’t know that. He forgot that one time. Big deal. He could just buy another pair at the ski resort.

“Hey, Gojo. I’m kinda surprise that your coming with us this year or I at least thought you wouldn’t be coming alone.”

He sighs, throwing himself on his bed with mood dropping instantly. “I didn’t want to pull y/n from her plans.”

The fact that he wasn’t spending Christmas with her made him so depressed, he doubts he was gonna have fun on this ski trip.

He thinks he made a good job at hiding his displeasure from her. Not wanting to come off more childish that he already did. But damn it did he want to see her. The phone call from earlier was barely enough to have his fill of you..

“Huh? What plans?” Shoko’s confused voice rings from the phone.

“Y’know, dinner plans or was it a Christmas girls night with her friends that they planned a whole while ago.”

The line goes quiet for a while, “Satoru..No, she doesn’t.”

Satoru’s heart drops at the certainty on her voice, “What are you talking about?”

—

Familiar tunes of popular Christmas hits floats throughout your apartment along with the scent of newly baked gingerbread muffins cooling down on your kitchen counter.

You took as sip of your hot coco from your ugly Christmas mug as you admired the twinkling lights on your small festive tree. The sound of your fireplace crackling made everything feel more cozy.

Christmas was a holiday you always enjoyed. Especially the traditions that came with it: the pretty lights, the colorful gifts, the white snow covering the pavements and roofs, the Christmas gatherings and how everyone seems to be extra nice this time of year. Ever since you were a kid, Christmas was simply magical.

You didn’t mind spending Christmas alone. You already had the evening filled with plans on baking which you had just finished, reading, and binge watching some cheesy Christmas movies.

Still, you find your mind wandering, even the magic of the fluffy snow falling down your window pane couldn’t fend off the prickle of loneliness dripping down your heart. Not to mention snow only reminded you of a certain someone.

You let out a sad exhale before catching yourself. Shaking your head, you put you mug down your coffee table and proceeded to clap your palms on your cheeks.

It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. There’s always next year. You can be selfish then.

After pathetically comforting yourself, you sit on the sofa planning to start perusing the dozens of Christmas films on Netflix.

Hmm, The Holidate sounds interesting. Fun and quirky, something that’s not gonna make you bawl your eyes out. Perfect.

The that’s intro comes up on the screen, but a sudden hard knock on your door makes you click pause.

Who could that be? Did you order something? Its probably a neighbor who needs a wine opener.

You make your way to the door, the incessant knocking continues. “I’m coming. jeez.”

You swing the the door open. The sight that greets you makes you take a step back, your heart tumbling over itself.

There he is with his hands on his knees, gasping for air like he ran a marathon to get here. Sweat lines his forehead despite the cold air. He runs a hands through his white strands as he happily grins at you,.

“Satoru, what are you doing here?” You ask skeptically, “Shouldn’t you be on your way to your ski trip?”

You couldn’t let yourself hope that he was here for you, maybe he forgot something in your apartment.

Yet he proves you wrong when he stands up to his actual height. His face flush from the effort, closes the door behind him and tugs you flushed to his warm chest. Your senses fills with his scent and you melt. He smells like home.

He plants a soft kiss to you temple as he buries his hand in you hair, breathing you in, “You didn’t think I was gonna let you spend Christmas alone, did ya?”

Your eyes grew wide before tears start to prickle your eyelids, the gravity of spending Christmas alone somehow finally sunk in at his words, making you clasp his back in distress. You weren’t fine at all. “How did you know..?”

He lets out a breath and pulls back at bit to gaze into your eyes. “It doesn’t matter, what matters is why didn’t you tell me?”

You drop his gaze, not able to form the words. How could you tell him? That you didn’t wanna look so pathetic. That you didn’t make any plans in hindsight of wanting to spend Christmas with him. It was either a Christmas with him or no one at all.

A hand on your chin guides you back to look at him, his face so distraught it made your heart clench. “Baby, I wanted nothing more than to spend Christmas with you.”

“But your plans..”

“Fuck those plans! I don’t care about them. I wanted to cancel every single one of them just so I could spend Christmas week with you.” He cries out.

“What?”

A finger wipes a stray tear from your eyes before cupping your cheek. His starry eyes looks at you with worry and a shed of guilt, “If I made you feel like Id rather spend time with other people than my gorgeous girlfriend, then I’m doing a horrible job as your boyfriend.”

“No! It just-” Despite his assurances you still couldn’t wrap your head around it, “I couldn’t just make you drop your plans, Toru. I’d feel too bad about it.”

He caresses a thumb down your cheek in understanding, “I mean sure we could have eaten dinner with my family, but other than that I would’ve been much happier spending my week with you, pretty.”

You don’t know if you felt relieved or embarrassed. Relieved that he felt the same way or embarrassed that he found out about you non existent plans. Okay, you were both.

You cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you try to explain yourself, “I’m sorry, Toru.. Its just what we have- its just so new and I didn’t know how to go about it and..” You give resigned sigh, “I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“Oh, baby.” He coos, pulling me back to his chest. “There’s no ruining this, that would be next to impossible, especially you. If there’s anyone who has a chance of ruining this, its me. You might get sick or too annoyed with me one of these days.”

He might be joking, but you could hear the insecurity lacing his words.

“No way!” You place a kiss on his chin. “That’s impossible.”

“I’m happy you think so, pretty.”

He pulls away once more and hangs his jacket on your coat rack. Then proceeds to lead you to your living room where you had everything set, from your Christmas decorations, your muffins, the tree, to the fireplace, and the paused movie.

“And to think you were gonna have such a cozy night without me, you must really hate me.”

You roll your eyes at him dramatics, “That’s far from the truth.”

He plops himself on the sofa that were filled with cozy Christmas themed pillows and thick blankets. The image made your stomach feel warm. He was here. Satoru was here. He came for you.

Like he always does.

You feel like an idiot for doubting him. He tilts his head at you just standing there. “Come here.”

And you do. Though before you could sit beside him, he pulls you down to his lap. Your back to his chest, “There you go. Right where you belong.”

You giggle, “There’s enough space for the both of us to sit, Toru.”

“Too much space if it makes you sit away from me.” He pouts childishly, tightening his arms around your waist.

“That’s just..” You shake your head with a fond smile. He nuzzles you neck for a good while, as if trying to make up for the time your weren’t in his arms.

“Sweets, I’m sorry” He murmurs against you neck after a while making you turn your head to look at him. “For what?”

“I should have been honest from the start..” His voice tinge with regret, “I wanted to beg you to cancel your plans from the beginning but I didn’t want to be selfish.”

You smile sheepishly at him, “Yet you wanted me to be selfish?”

He blinks, “Of course, your my girlfriend. I love you more than anything.” His voice was lace with so much unfiltered love, it made your eyes sting, “You come above everything else. I want you be selfish with me.”

You furrow your eyebrows, overwhelmed by his dedication, “Toru, that’s too much..”

He merely shakes his head, “Never too much. Not when it come to you. I hope you know that.”

You maneuver yourself in his lap so that your facing him. His sparkling blue eyes twinkling under the lights. He was so pretty it almost hurt. His mere existence overwhelmed you in the best way.

Cupping his face, you move in closer, “Then you should be selfish with me too. Don’t be scared to ask more of me, Toru.”

He stares at you, eyes tracing your face as if committing every feature to memory,

“God, I love you.” He breathes out as he pulls you by the neck and closes the gap between your lips.

Your toes curl as his lips molded with yours, your arms curls around his neck pulling him closer as he angled his head to deepen the kiss.

He groans against your lips as his tongue dances with yours and you could hear the sound of your lips echoing around the living room.

He tasted like candy and cinnamon. It made your head spin and heart pound a mile a minute , your hand crawled down touch his chest to feel his heart racing as fast as yours.

Its like he couldn’t get enough as he kissed you like a man starved again, again and again.

You didn’t want it to ever stop, but there was one more thing you needed to tell him.

You pull away with his lips chasing yours, eyes in a daze making you giggle, “Toru, before I forget.”

“What?” He says, bright blue eyes still focusing on your kiss bitten lips.

You pinch his nose, hoping to make him focus. “Merry Christmas, Toru.”

He blinks and scrunches his nose, a bit of clarity seeping into him as he smiles tenderly at you, “Merry Christmas, baby. On every list I ever sent. You’re the gift I love the best.”

Merry Christmas to everyone around the world!

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 19 - This must be the place

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Some very mild references to smut, grief

Last chapter....let's goooo

(gif doesn't reflect how reader looks)

You seemed to somehow move both in slow motion and in the fastest sprint of your life as you flung yourself at Bucky. He caught you with an audible ‘oof’ as you dived between his arms.

“Thank-you,” you squeaked tearily, burying your face into his shoulder, “thank-you”.

He didn’t speak, he just moved his arms around your back and held you firmly against him. You could feel the difference between metal and flesh as both enveloped you. Being back in his embrace was like meeting an old friend after a long absence – Safe. Familiar. Home. The two of you stayed like that for a moment. You weren’t really thinking, merely reacting. Bucky was almost perfectly still, as if any movement might break the trance.

You pulled away and looked up at him. He looked right back, his blue eyes practically burning into you.

“You knew this fence was important to me…”, you began.

He nodded, his face stoic.

“You knew that Granny asked me to do this…”

He nodded again.

“And…you were right,” you hesitated, “I have been putting it off. I guess…I guess it feels very final. It was the last thing I needed to do with this place. The last thing I needed to do…for her”.

He cleared his throat as he dropped his gaze, his voice soft, “I just thought it might help…if you didn’t have to think about it, it might be easier for you. And then…easier for you to leave”.

“Thank-you…”, you sniffed, “Do…do you want me to leave?”

His face suddenly hardened, and your heart ached as you thought he might tell you that he did, but his fingers dug deeper into your waist as if he were afraid that you would let him go.

“Of course not,” he replied gruffly, as if you’d insulted him. “Losing you has already been a nightmare. I don’t even know how I’m gonna feel when you’re really gone and I won’t even be able to bump into you around town. But you need to do what’s right for you. You need to be free to make your own decisions. If this fence is holding you back, I want to help you move forward”.

He looked at you as he told you this, those blue eyes carrying a depth of intensity that overwhelmed you.

You didn’t respond, just stared back at him, your mouth slightly agape. His words had stunned you. He was putting you first – your needs, your dreams. He had done all of this – the car, the fence – not as some grand gesture to win you back and show you what a good guy he was, but because it was to help you. To make you happy.

Bucky wasn’t necessarily a man of many words, but his actions spoke louder than he ever could. You understood that now. It didn’t magically undo the hurt he’d caused back at the bar, but it showed you that he was willing to support and be there for you, for the sake of your own happiness rather than his.

“Buck…” you whispered.

You didn’t even know you’d done it until your hand found his cheek, cupping it slightly. He turned his face into your palm and closed his eyes, as if relishing the feeling of your skin on his. The two of you stayed this way for a short while. It was nice to just be with each other for a moment, not weighed down by your complex shared history.

“Can I say something?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

You found yourself nodding.

He sighed as he moved from your hand and turned away, seemingly trying to gather the words.

“I don’t know why…I did that. Why I went through your purse that night. I’ve replayed it over and over in my mind and I wish I had a real answer for you, but I don’t. As I did it, I thought to myself ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’ and then I found the cash…and everything just went blank. I was so hurt by the possibility that you might have done that to me…that maybe you didn’t care about me the way I cared about you…and it’s like I lost all reason. And I know I should’ve come to you privately, and apologised for doubting you, and going through your stuff. I should’ve asked to talk rather than yelling…but my temper got the best of me. It’s not excusable. And it’s not enough. But it’s the truth. And truly, I am sorry.”

You looked at your feet as your stomach felt like it was tumbling to your knees. His sincerity burned in your ears.

“I didn’t tell you this…but before that happened, I knew I was…falling in love with you,” he said quietly.

Your face flushed and everything around you went a bit blurry but you still couldn’t quite handle meeting his eye.

He cleared his throat and continued. “And maybe…I don’t know…maybe on some level I was trying to sabotage it. Because it freaked me out, how I felt…I mean, and because I knew you’d be leaving, and maybe part of me was looking for reasons to end things before I got in too deep. Before it hurt too much. And that’s cowardly…and shitty…and inexcusable, but I guess that’s me. I’m not…good at this, Sugar. I struggle with my feelings. I can’t really regulate my emotions sometimes. Which is embarrassing as a grown ass man. But I’m trying to learn and be better”.

You finally managed to look up, your heart pounding in your chest as his admission sank in.

“Thank-you Bucky…I appreciate that…” you said quietly, “I just…it broke my heart that you could think I could do something like that. To anyone…let alone you”.

He sighed heavily, his regret evident, “I know. I know that isn’t you. And I know you don’t believe me…but that wasn’t me either, or at least not who I want to be. I’m ashamed by how I acted”.

The silence hung heavily between you both until you spoke again.

“I…I was falling in love with you too,” you admitted shyly, “that night…I had planned to tell you. Before…y’know”.

“Fuck…” Bucky winced, his voice low, “…I couldn’t have fucked it up any more than I did, huh?”

He smiled crookedly at you and playfully slugged your shoulder, an attempt at levity, but you could see the tension in his face.

You smiled back. “I guess…I guess I understand why you’d be freaked out. I was freaked out too. I kept thinking about what would happen when I left and doing my best to push it to the back of my mind. Just completely avoiding it. I guess neither of us really dealt with it….”

He took your hand in his, squeezing it softly. You took a deep breath as you looked into the depths of his baby blues and everything suddenly felt a bit clearer. You decided in that moment that enough was enough. No more dancing around the hard stuff. You owed it to yourself to lead a life where you tackled the problems head on, rather than hoping they went away by themselves or that someone else found the solution for you. Because dealing with the hard stuff is living, even if you’re uncomfortable in the process. Keeping your head in the sand was merely treading water, kicking the can down the road didn’t make it go away. You owed it to you. You owed it to Granny. You wanted to make her proud. And if it didn’t work out? Hell, it didn’t work out even when you did nothing. So you should at least try to have a say in your fate, even if you’d be knocked back sometimes.

“Buck…”

“Yeah, Sug?”

“I…I don’t…” you hesitated.

“Don’t what, Sug?” he asked gently, his fingers squeezing your palm.

“I don’t…”, you exhaled, “I don’t…want to leave”.

He tilted his head as he looked back at you, a look that took you back to every morning you woke up next to him, to every kiss you’d stolen, to every moment you’d spent in your bubble – just the two of you, hidden away from the rest of the world.

He reached his hand out towards you, his finger propping up your chin.

“Are you sure?” he asked quizzically as he held your face.

“No,” you laughed nervously, “but I never am. All I truly know is…I’m not ready to go yet”.

He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as the world around you disappeared, “then…don’t”.

And then he kissed you.

You weren’t sure how the kiss was somehow saccharine yet sexy, desperate yet patient, all at the same time. You pushed yourself into him as his arms wrapped around you, holding you impossibly close. The rough stubble of his beard pressing into your cheek, pleasantly scratching at your chin as you silently remembered how it had felt all those times before. His familiar scent made you giddy, all cologne and the faintest hint of motor oil, the subtle caress of his laundry soap from his white t-shirt.

It wasn’t a movie-perfect kiss by any means – teeth clashed; heads bumped – but it didn’t need to be. It said the unsaid. It was real. It felt like coming home.

He pulled away for a moment, looking at you with puzzlement as he seemed to fully take you in for the first time.

“What?” you uttered breathily, a pang of anxiety that he might be regretting what he’d done.

“Are those…my boxers?” he asked incredulously, the familiar shit-eating grin spreading across his face.

You looked down at yourself, the flush of embarrassment working its way to your cheeks as you remembered that you’d gone outside in your pyjamas, initially expecting a delivery driver.

“You left them…they’re comfy,” you sputtered with mortification, shifting your arms over your thighs in a weak attempt to cover up his stolen underwear.

“Have you…have you been wearing them this whole time?” he smirked, “Since we broke up?”

“They’re comfy! And you left them at my place…finders keepers!” you spat back, annoyed at his amusement.

“Sugar…you keep ‘em,” he smiled as he pulled you towards him, “they look better on you, anyhow”.

You rolled your eyes, batting him away as you poorly masked your smile.

“Shut up and kiss me,” you groaned.

“Gladly…”

And he did.

*

Six months later…

You waved animatedly at Wanda and Vis as they entered The Snake Pit, smiling as you began to prepare their usual drinks. Wanda beamed back at you and Vis pointed to a free table, giving you a thumbs up as they settled in and took their jackets off. ‘I’ll be right there!’ you mouthed exaggeratedly at them as you plucked a couple of glasses out from beneath the bar.

“Settle a bet for us, would ya?” Sam asked as he and Clint pulled out the stools in front of you and sat down.

“Nope…” you muttered sternly as you poured Wanda’s usual, “Nooot getting involved with your bets. Not anymore. I learned my lesson from the firecracker incident…”

“…we all did,” piped up Steve from a few stools along, glaring warningly at Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes, “ohh don’t be so dramatic…it was fine”.

“Only because we’d just upgraded our fire extinguishers,” Steve barked as he sipped from his beer glass with contempt.

You giggled with amusement as the three of them erupted into bickering, with a passing Thor and Parker also joining to pick their side of the argument.

“Business as usual, huh Sug?” came a voice from behind you, as a metal arm wrapped itself around your hips.

“You know it…” you chuckled as you turned to face Bucky, rolling your eyes good-naturedly.

He grinned and leaned over to kiss you, causing the MC members in front of you to groan.

“Shut your pieholes,” Bucky admonished with a sneer, “If I wanna give my old lady a kiss, she gets a kiss”.

“We know…” Sam sighed. “Everyone within a twenty-mile radius knows, the way you’re all over her…”

“Well, I damn well hope so,” Bucky replied as he glared over at the corner of the bar, “there’s a guy over there who was getting a bit close…”

“Oh relax…” you laughed as you finished pouring the drinks, “he just couldn’t hear me over the jukebox while he was ordering…”

Bucky scoffed, “Yeah…like I haven’t heard that one before…”

“It’s true,” Steve chimed in solemnly, “we’ve all used that one…”

The group descended into gregarious laughter and chatter, so you used the opportunity to slip away – bringing Wanda and Vis their drinks. You talked with them for a while as you transferred their glasses from the tray to their table. Their wedding planning was going well, although they still had a lot to do.

You caught Bucky’s eye from across the room and the two of you shared a smile, almost conspiratorial in its intimacy. For a minute you were transferred back to the old days, when nobody knew about your relationship, and it was just the two of you – sneaking around, the two sole holders of something clandestine, something private – just for you both.

Bucky was loud and proud about your relationship now, and sure, you were also proud to be his old lady. You weren’t a dirty secret or something to keep quiet, but that didn’t mean you didn’t sometimes long for the intimate silence of days gone by.

You’d called off the house sale as soon as you and Bucky had shared the kiss out on your lawn. Granny’s house was yours now, although you and Bucky had spent some time making it more ‘you’, helping to exorcise the ghosts and put your own little spin on it. You knew she’d approve.

You and Bucky were enjoying being together, but you still lived apart. There was no hurry to do much else, for now. You’d got your old job back, you’d spent more time with the MC, and started to build a life here in this town. It was nice to finally start to lay down roots, to finally find somewhere you felt like you belonged.

Getting to know Bucky again was part of that, you had forgiven him for what had happened – but it wasn’t a magic wand. Trust always takes time to rebuild. And what was the rush? You loved him. He loved you. Neither of you were going anywhere. Milestones would happen in time.

Although you spent most of your nights together…

And sometimes you couldn’t wait until you got home…the bar’s office had seen it’s fair share of action…

He wasn’t always great with words, but his actions said everything he needed to. He would regularly tune Sally up and fill her tank, you couldn’t remember the last time you needed to go to a gas station. He’d make you breakfast, bringing it to you in bed as you lazily rolled over and smiled at him through half open eyes. He’d take you out on his bike, encouraging you to hold him tight around his middle as he upped the speed – listening to your squeal of excitement as the wind whipped through your hair. He’d even arranged a charity donation box for the animal shelter and propped it at the end of the bar, a photograph of Granny proudly mounted behind it – every penny and dollar collected in her honour.

It felt like he was honouring you, too.

You’d often think about him sleeping out on that road for you, insisting he stay despite you pushing him to go. You thought about him fixing the fence so you could freely leave on your own terms. He was the first person (apart from Granny of course) to fight for you. Even when it got tough. You felt very lucky to be loved like that, to be seen like that.

Peter Quill had mysteriously left town a few months ago. You had interrogated Bucky, asking if it was a coincidence that he apparently got a new job out of state, but he maintained it was. You weren’t so sure, but you wouldn’t pry. You just hoped it was true. Peter had sent you one finally text apologising for his behaviour, explaining that what had happened between you had been the catalyst to get therapy. You hoped that was true, too.

Tom, the once-thief, was doing well in the rehab facility over in the city. The staff there seemed positive that he’d come a long way with his gambling and was on the right track.

As you headed back to the bar, tray tucked under your arm, you saw Amber and gave her a wave as she headed over to her new boyfriend, Eddie. He seemed nice, even if you think you caught him talking to himself over by the men’s room once. She smiled back at you as you passed.

You resumed your post, serving a round of beers to a few guys as Bucky stood behind you, his hand on your waist as he chatted with Steve. As the customer handed you a cash tip and left, Bucky leaned in and kissed your temple without even looking up. It was as if he was on auto pilot, unable to avoid it. Life was good. Maybe this ‘making decisions’ thing wasn’t so bad after all.

You placed your tip into the shelter donation box and smiled wryly at Granny’s picture as you passed, then went back to serving.

“Who’s next?”

THE END

Hiiiii! Thanks again to anyone who reblogged/left a comment for this story, it’s honestly been wonderful and I hope you enjoyed how it ended. I know a few of you didn’t think Bucky had atoned enough, and I’m sorry if that’s the case. I’m pretty satisfied with the journey he took!

If you aren’t familiar with the title, it’s my favourite Talking Heads song and I think it’s really beautiful – the lyrics partly inspired this fic, you can find them here if you’re interested.

Once again, thanks for your support. My Ko-Fi link is here if you’d like to support me further (but no pressure obv!). It’s wonderful to be in such a great community!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Overtime 13

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss, Mr. Hansen, runs you ragged but you find solace in an unexpected friend.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Jake Jensen.

Author’s Note: This one is dedicated to my dearest @thezombieprostitute

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

The next day arrives in a tide of anxiety. You’re both impatient and unprepared for what awaits you. That’s not so much different from any other day but that simmer in your stomach has turned to a boil. 

You get ready slowly. You think of Mr. Hansen and his remarks. You ignore them and pull on a pair of grey plaid slacks and a tidy blouse with daisy buttons. You put a bow in your hair and pay special attention to moisturizer and mascara. 

You drive to work on half a cup of coffee. Caffeine will only add to your nerves. You have until noon and that won’t even be the end. After the interview, there is the matter of waiting for a response. 

You grab Mr. Hansen his usual. You take the elevator up and knock on his office door. He’s not in. You enter and put his cup on his desk. You come back out as he struts by your desk with a whistle. He slows as he sees you, his eyes scanning up and down. He doesn’t say anything but his expression clearly speaks his disappointment. 

“Critter--”  

“Coffee’s on your desk, sir,” you answer. 

He doesn’t respond. He goes into his office and you go to your desk. You hope that things can go back to the way they were. Just for this more. Let you be complacent and him be quietly unhappy. 

You fidget uneasily as you stare blankly at your screen. There’s an email to confirm your meeting time. Noon... you look at the clock and groan. Still hours to go. 

It isn’t long before Mr. Hansen reappears. He slurps his coffee loudly. “You get sugar in this? Tastes extra sweet today... not so salty.” 

You look up at him guiltily, “no, Mr. Hansen. I didn’t do anything.” 

“I fucking know you didn’t. One thing I can say about you, Critter, is you’re a fast learner.” He praises but it hardly feels like a compliment. “Well, sometimes,” his eyes fall down and he leans in to see past your desk, “I’m not seeing any thigh.” 

“Sir, I don’t have any other skirts. Sorry--” 

“You should be fucking sorry and I should dock your pay for noncompliance,” his voice deepens. “Don’t got a skirt. Go fucking find one. You got thirty minutes before Walker shows up.” 

“Walker, sir?” You frown. That’s not in your calendar. 

“Oh, I penciled him in. You know, I’m a big boy, I can do just fine without you, Crit. I just prefer not having to do any of the dumb shit you sit around and stress over,” he scoffs. “While you’re getting that, don’t forget to grab some pastries. Can’t have a big prospect coming in to a dry reception.” 

“Sir,” you push yourself up by the arms of your chair. “I’m on it.” 

He’s already turning away before you’re on your feet. He struts off as you snatch up your purse. You’re almost grateful for the chance to get away. All night you felt suffocated by Hansen, even in his absence. Being in the office is much worse. 

You find a thrift shop a few blocks down. There’s not much else open this early. You pick out a skirt in your size without much consideration. It’s grey. Plain. Nothing showy. You stop to grab a box of sweet pastries from the Italian deli then head back to the office. You’d like to take your time but you don’t need to give Hansen any more reasons. 

You drop your things on your desk and scurry away to change. The skirt isn’t bad. Almost to your knees. And you didn’t notice the draping before. 

As you settle in, Mr. Walker arrives. He’s tall and broad. He’s the only man you know besides Mr. Odinson that makes Hansen seem a little less intimidating. You stand to greet him. 

“Hello, I can go get him--” 

Walker looks you up and down and tilts his head. He sports a mustache similar to Hansen, but darker, and with a shadow of stubble around his square jaw. He sniffs. 

“You new here?” He asks. 

You blink. You shake your head, “no, sir.” You don’t bother explaining you’ve been here for years. 

“New skirt?” He wonders. 

You pause and look down. You pause then jump back into action. The sooner he’s in Hansen’s office, the sooner you can be alone and prepare yourself mentally for your interview. 

You knock and receive no answer. You assume as much. You tap again. Hansen growls from within. 

You open the door, “Mr. Hansen, Mr. Walker is here--” 

“Where the fuck are the pastries?” He snarls as he squeezes on a hand grip, the joint squeaking with his strength. 

“I’ll bring them in, sir.” 

“Nah, put them in a conference room with Walker.” He squeezes the gripper until his knuckles pale. “And try smiling. I need him in a good mood.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

You go and show Walker to a conference room with a smile, not that he notices the extra effort. You offer him some of the pastries before you go, leaving the door slightly ajar in expectation of Mr. Hansen. You’re all too happy to be back at your desk while he’s distracted with real business. 

Your mind wanders. He said it himself. He doesn’t need you. He can survive just fine without you. So he shouldn’t be bothered when—if you hand in your two weeks. 

As you turn the corner, you smack into someone else. At first, you’re terrified that it’s Hansen. Oh great. Instead, Jensen takes a step back as he gently holds you at arm's length. 

“Woah, you okay?” 

“Oh, uh, sorry, yeah, I was... thinking.” 

“Heard you got an interview today,” he says, “good luck.” 

“Right, uh, yeah. At lunch.” 

“Only a couple hours, huh?” He grins. 

You nod and slowly glance down as his hands remain on your arms. He chuckles and rescinds them, “sorry. Uh... I like that skirt.” 

“Thanks,” you mumble. 

“Is it new?” 

“Not really.” 

“Oh, okay. Um, sorry if I’m like holding you up. You must be anxious about the interview. I’ll let you go but—tell me how it goes, after?” 

You look him in the eye. He’s so nice. Too nice. 

“Sure,” you agree. “Thanks, Jensen. For getting my foot in the door.” 

“Me?” He shakes his head. “I didn’t do much. I said your name and they jumped at the chance. You know, you got a reputation around here. You work hard.” He tucks his hands in his pockets, “you have to. You’re the only one who’s lasted that long with Hansen.” 

“Oh, right, I guess...” You blink and nearly recoil. “Speaking of.” 

“Yeah, I know. He’s not my biggest fan,” he says. “Hey, I really hope you get it.” 

You smile, this time for real. “Me too.” 

[dearly-somber]

Purr | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. slow burn, f2l (friends-to-lovers), fluff, angst, drama, high school!au, eventual romance, eventual smut

-> w/c. 948

-> rating. 13+

-> a/n. I’m going to drop a Spotify playlist for this couple soon!! Please look forward to it <3

-> warnings. None!!

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Jun. 30th, 2022 @ 18:26

-> fin. Thurs., Nov. 9th, 2023 @ 14:28

-> edited. Mon., Nov. 13th, 2023 @ 12:22

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

Y/N stifles a yawn as tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She shakes her head (as if trying to shake the yawn away), then smacks her lips together, sitting deeper in the couch as her eyes struggle to stay open.

Jungkook feels himself smile, momentarily forgetting about the movie they’re supposed to be watching together—V for Vendetta. It’s far outside of their preferred genres, so he finds it unsurprising that she’s lost interest.

Suddenly she turns her head to him and Jungkook nearly breaks his neck trying to look away in time, his cheeks flushing pink at the embarrassment at being caught.

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he raises his hands above Y/N’s shoulders, his heart racing as she shifts in her seat to lower her head into his lap, one hand tucked under his thigh and one resting on his foot.

His heart pounds hard against the back of his throat, eyes glued to the back of her head. If you told Jungkook a few months ago that Y/N would actively seek him out and be comfortable enough to be physically close to him, he would have laughed in your face. Seeing it happen before his eyes blows his mind.

A satisfied feeling in his stomach makes his chest inflate with a sense of accomplishment and pride he can’t put into words.

She nuzzles her cheek against his thigh, a little hum escaping her lips as she slowly relaxes her shoulders and softens her exhales.

With his hands still hovering just above her shoulders, Jungkook takes the leap to put his hand in her hair, gently running his fingers through the nice-smelling strands and occasionally letting his fingers brush against the back of her scalp.

Her heartbeat slows even further at the sensation, and fond smile tugging his lips upward in response. Jungkook sets his eyes back on the movie, idly dragging his hand through her hair.

“Jungkook-ah!”

“Hm?” He looks at Jimin with alert eyes, momentarily halting his motions to focus in on his hyung.

Jimin is quickly followed by Taehyung, who wraps an arm around Jimin’s shoulders with a goofy grin. The two shifters look down at Jungkook’s lap with curious eyes, Taehyung’s eyebrows comically high on his head. “That’s new,” he says.

“She’s sleeping,” Jungkook mutters, putting a finger up to his mouth as he continues stroking her hair.

He wonders… If Y/N were a cat right now, would she be purring?

He hopes the answer is yes.

“Did you need something?” Jungkook asks, trying to divert their attention as he grows ever-shy under their knowing smiles. He brings his free hand up to massage the tips of his ears, knowing for a fact they’ve turned a bright red.

Taehyung snickers as Jimin replies, “Not right now, but we were brainstorming about ideas for Rosie’s birthday next week and we need a third opinion.”

Jungkook nods. “What have you come up with so far?”

“I think we should take her to Lotte World,” Taehyung chimes before Jimin gets the chance. “She’s been talking about it for weeks.”

Jungkook nods thoughtfully. He remembers that one day a few weekends ago when Y/N came over to hang out and ended up chatting with Rosé for nearly an hour about Lotte World and how amazing it had been the one time she got to go with her parents.

“I think we should do something cozy,” Jimin says. “We can go out to the river and swim for a bit, then come back, change, and barbecue. It’s not super extravagant or anything, but I think she’ll like having everyone together to celebrate, you know?”

“Mmm,” Jungkook hums thoughtfully.

He thinks both options are good. They’re both things Rosé would enjoy and be thankful for, and they’re also things the rest of the pack can enjoy.

He wonders, though, “Why not do both?”

“Huh?” They say together.

“Do both.” Jungkook shrugs. “We can go to Lotte World first and then come back to barbecue. Some excitement and then something nice and cozy,” he says, briefly glancing back down to watch as strands of Y/N’s hair fall between the gaps in his fingers.

“Wow,” Jimin says, looking off into the distance. “Since when were you so smart?”

Jungkook pouts.

Taehyung muffles his laughter in Jimin’s shoulder, reaching around him to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. “Don’t take it so serious, Kookie. You know we’re just kidding. It’s a good idea!”

Jungkook smiles. “I guess… Tell the others, then?”

“Yep!” Taehyung says excitedly, pushing away from Jimin to stretch his arms out behind him. “Tomorrow, though. I’m beat.”

Jimin rolls his eyes, whispering conspiratorially, “He was up playing games all night.”

“Yah!” Taehyung says a little too loud—Y/N shifts closer to him in her sleep.

“Shh!” Jungkook hisses. Taehyung raises his hands in defeat, shaking his head on his way to his and Jimin’s bedroom.

Jungkook waits a few seconds to make sure she’s really asleep before continuing his ministrations in Y/N’s hair.

“You know.” Jungkook looks up at Jimin. “You two have gotten really close.”

Jungkook smiles. “Yeah… She’s opened up a lot.”

Jimin ruffles his hair affectionately. “I’m happy for you, Kook. Maybe, soon…?”

Jungkook shakes his head softly, looking down at the back of Y/N’s head. Her shoulders rise and fall in time with the steady rhythm of her heart. “Maybe.”

Jimin gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze, whispering goodnight as he heads upstairs.

Jungkook rests his hand on Y/N’s shoulder with a slow sigh, leaning back against the couch as he focuses on the last couple of minutes of the movie nobody’s been watching.

“Soon,” he whispers.

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