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moonlightwritingf1 · 1 day ago

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To New Beginnings | LN4

ᥫ᭡ summary ━━━━━━━ Y/n and Lando share a passionate kiss on New Year’s Eve, leading to an intimate connection. Despite her hesitations, Y/n gives in to the growing attraction between them.

ᥫ᭡ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

ᥫ᭡ word count ━━━━━━━ 6.1k

ᥫ᭡ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

The New Year’s Eve party was in full swing, the air thick with laughter, clinking glasses, and the bass-heavy thrum of music. Y/n stood just inside the doorway, her fingers nervously brushing over the delicate fabric of her dress. It was black, long, and clung to her curves in a way that made her feel both powerful and exposed. The neckline dipped low, revealing just enough to be daring without crossing into vulgarity. She had debated wearing it for hours, but now, standing here, she was glad she’d taken the risk.

This is it, she thought, taking a deep breath. Tonight, I let myself exist. Just for tonight.

She scanned the room, her eyes landing on familiar faces—friends from work, acquaintances from London’s social scene. But before she could fully settle into the space, her gaze locked onto someone else entirely. Lando.

He was across the room, leaning casually against the bar, a glass of champagne in hand. His dark hair was slightly messy, his tailored suit hugging his frame perfectly. Even from this distance, she could see the way his eyes lit up when he noticed her. He straightened, setting his glass down, and began making his way toward her.

Her heart skipped a beat. Why does he always look at me like that?

“Y/n,” he said as he approached, his voice smooth and warm, with just a hint of that teasing edge she’d come to expect from him. “You’re here.”

She forced herself to smile, though her cheeks were already flushing. “I am. It’s a party, after all.”

“Yes, but you’re here,” he emphasized, his eyes raking over her in a way that made her skin tingle. “And in that dress? You’re going to make it impossible for anyone else to get my attention tonight.”

She rolled her eyes, trying to play off the compliment. “Oh, please. You’ll forget about me the moment someone hands you another drink.”

He stepped closer, his hand brushing against her waist as if by accident. Was it an accident? She couldn’t tell. “I don’t think that’s possible,” he murmured, his voice lowering just enough that she had to lean in slightly to hear him. “Not when you’re standing there looking like… that.”

Y/n glanced away, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Only around you,” he said with a grin, his fingers lingering on her hip now, sending a shiver down her spine. “Come on, let’s get you a drink. You look like you need one.”

Before she could protest, he was guiding her toward the bar, his hand still firmly on her waist. She could feel the heat of his touch through the thin fabric of her dress, and it was distracting in a way she hadn’t anticipated. As they walked, she noticed the way people turned to watch them, their curious glances flickering between her and Lando. Do they think we’re together? The thought sent a strange mix of panic and something else—something warmer—through her chest.

At the bar, Lando ordered her a glass of wine, his arm brushing against hers as he leaned in to speak to the bartender. When he handed her the glass, his fingers lingered against hers for a moment too long. “To new beginnings,” he said, raising his own glass in a toast.

She clinked her glass against his, trying to ignore the way his eyes seemed to pierce right through her. “Cheers.”

They sipped their drinks in silence for a moment, the noise of the party swirling around them. But Lando didn’t seem interested in letting the conversation die. “So,” he said, tilting his head slightly as he studied her. “Why did it take so long for you to show up? I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

“I wasn’t sure if I would,” she admitted, tracing the rim of her glass with her finger. “But… I figured, why not? It’s New Year’s Eve.”

“And I’m glad you did,” he said, his voice softening. “Because now I get to spend the night with the most beautiful woman in the room.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re so full of it.”

“Am I?” he asked, stepping closer again, his free hand resting lightly on her hip. “Or are you just refusing to believe me?”

Her breath hitched slightly at the intensity in his gaze. “Maybe both.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Fair enough. But I’m not going to stop telling you until you believe me.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the music shifted to a slower tempo, and Lando’s expression changed. There was a glint in his eye now, something playful and mischievous. “Dance with me,” he said, offering her his hand.

“What? No,” she protested, shaking her head. “I don’t dance.”

“Everyone dances on New Year’s Eve,” he countered, his fingers wrapping around hers before she could pull away. “Come on, Y/n. Live a little.”

She hesitated, glancing around the room. But something in the way he was looking at her—like she was the only person in the world—made her nod. Just one dance, she told herself. What’s the harm?

As he led her to the center of the room, his hand moved to her waist, pulling her close. She placed her free hand on his shoulder, feeling the firm muscle beneath his suit jacket. They began to sway to the music, and she was acutely aware of every point of contact between them—the warmth of his hand on her back, the press of his chest against hers, the way his breath brushed against her cheek.

“See?” he murmured, his lips close to her ear. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”

“I suppose not,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “Good. Because I’ve been waiting months for this.”

Her heart raced at his words, but before she could respond, he spun her gently, pulling her even closer this time. Their bodies were flush now, and she could feel the steady beat of his heart against hers. When the song ended, neither of them moved. Instead, they stood there, locked in each other’s embrace, the rest of the party fading into the background.

“Y/n,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “There’s something I need to—”

But before he could finish, the countdown to midnight began. The crowd erupted into cheers, and Y/n felt a surge of adrenaline. 10… 9… 8…

Lando’s eyes never left hers as the numbers ticked down. 7… 6… 5…

His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently against her skin. 4… 3… 2…

“Happy New Year,” he murmured, his lips hovering just inches from hers.

The clock struck midnight, and the room exploded into celebration. But Y/n barely noticed. All she could focus on was the way Lando was looking at her, the way his breath mingled with hers, the way his body pressed against her own.

“Happy New Year,” she whispered back, her heart pounding in her chest.

And then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was soft and tentative at first, but quickly deepened into something more—something filled with longing and passion and all the unspoken things between them. Her hands slid up to cup his face, and she kissed him back with everything she had, finally letting herself give in to the feelings she’d been fighting for so long.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, their breaths uneven. “Y/n,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “I—”

Lando’s breath was still uneven, his forehead pressed against hers as if he couldn’t bear to pull away completely. His hands moved from her shoulders to her waist, fingers curling possessively into the soft fabric of her dress. “Y/n,” he murmured again, his voice low and rough with emotion. He didn’t finish whatever he had been about to say. Instead, he tilted his head, capturing her lips in another kiss—this one deeper, hungrier, more insistent.

Her hands slid up his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath her palms. She kissed him back with equal fervor, her body responding instinctively to his touch. When he finally pulled away, she was breathless, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly swollen.

“You…” he began, but trailed off, his eyes searching hers for something. Whatever it was, he seemed to find it, because a slow, satisfied smile spread across his face. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, his lips were on hers again, his hands roaming over her body as if he needed to memorize every curve. His fingers trailed down her sides, brushing the hem of her dress before sliding underneath to trace patterns on her bare skin. She shivered at the sensation, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

“Cold?” he teased, his voice warm against her ear. She shook her head, unable to form words as his hands continued their exploration. He pressed kisses along her jawline, his lips grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear that made her knees go weak. Her fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt, anchoring herself as she felt her resolve beginning to crumble.

“Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling. But instead of stopping, he only intensified his efforts, his lips moving lower to trail kisses down her neck. His hands tightened around her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space between them.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her skin, his breath hot and sending shivers down her spine. “I can’t stop looking at you. Can’t stop touching you.” His hands slid lower, resting on her hips for a moment before one dipped lower, brushing the curve of her ass. She froze, her breath catching in her throat.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with both desire and concern. She nodded, barely trusting herself to speak. The feel of his hand on her ass sent a jolt of electricity through her body, igniting something deep within her. He squeezed gently, testing her reaction, and when a small moan escaped her lips, he grinned against her skin.

“God, I love the sounds you make,” he whispered, his voice rougher now, filled with an intensity that made her heart race. His hand explored further, gripping her ass firmly this time, and another moan slipped past her lips before she could stop it. The sound seemed to embolden him, and he pressed another searing kiss to her lips.

“You’re perfect,” he breathed between kisses. “Everything about you… perfect.” His lips moved lower, trailing kisses across her collarbone and down to the edge of her dress. The neckline was low, exposing just enough skin to drive him wild, and he wasted no time in pressing his lips to the soft swell of her chest.

Y/n’s breath hitched, her fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed her there, each press of his lips sending waves of heat through her body. She could feel the tension building, coiling tight in her core, and she knew she was losing control. But for the first time, she didn’t care. She wanted this—wanted him—more than anything.

His tongue flicked out, teasing her skin, and she let out another soft moan, her body arching towards him involuntarily. He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against her skin, and she felt a surge of confidence at the way he reacted to her.

“You like that?” he asked, his voice muffled against her chest. She nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. He kissed her again, his lips lingering longer this time, before lifting his head to look at her. His eyes were filled with desire, and she could see the same need reflected in them that she felt burning inside her.

Lando’s lips moved to her ear, his breath warm and teasing. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down her spine. His hands traced the curve of her waist, their bodies were pressed together, the heat between them almost unbearable. Y/n could feel the hard outline of his desire against her, and it made her pulse quicken.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he continued, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “Wanted you. Every time I see you, it’s all I can think about. How beautiful you are. How much I need to touch you, to taste you.” He kissed her neck softly, his teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her gasp.

Y/n’s hands gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. She was losing herself in him, in the way he spoke, in the way he touched her. It was overwhelming, but she didn’t want it to stop. “Lando…” she breathed, her voice trembling with need.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes. His gaze was intense, filled with a mixture of adoration and hunger. “Tell me what you want,” he said again, his voice soft but commanding. “Tell me, and it’s yours.”

She hesitated for a moment, her heart racing. But then she leaned in, her lips brushing against his as she whispered, “I want you. All of you.”

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Lando’s face, and he cupped her cheek in his hand. “You have me,” he murmured before capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue slid against hers, exploring every inch of her mouth as if he was memorizing her. His hands roamed her body, leaving trails of fire wherever they touched.

The party faded into the background, the music and laughter becoming nothing more than a distant hum. All that mattered was the two of them, the way they fit together, the way their bodies moved in sync. Lando’s hands slipped lower, gripping her hips as he pulled her even closer, his hardness pressing against her stomach.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily. Lando rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as if savoring the moment. “Come home with me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the noise of the party.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. She knew what he was asking, knew where this would lead. And yet, there was no hesitation in her answer. “Yes,” she said simply, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside her.

Lando’s smile was radiant, and he took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. They slipped out of the party unnoticed, the cool night air hitting them as they stepped outside. Lando led her to his car, opening the door for her with a gentlemanly charm that made her smile.

The drive to his apartment was quiet, the tension between them palpable. Y/n could feel Lando’s eyes on her every now and then, his gaze burning with desire. She kept her eyes on the road, her mind racing with anticipation. What would happen when they got there? Would she be able to handle the intensity of his feelings? The depth of her own?

When they finally arrived, Lando parked the car and turned to her, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice soft but serious.

Y/n met his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m sure,” she said, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her.

Lando smiled, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “Good,” he murmured before leaning in to kiss her gently. Then he got out of the car and came around to open her door, taking her hand in his as they walked to the elevator.

The ride up to his apartment seemed to take forever, the silence between them filled with unspoken words and promises. When the doors finally opened, Lando led her down the hallway to his door, unlocking it and stepping aside to let her in.

His apartment was modern and sleek, just like she had imagined. But she didn’t have time to take it all in before Lando’s arms were around her, his lips crashing down on hers in a kiss that left her breathless. She responded eagerly, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer.

Lando’s hands moved to the zipper of her dress, slowly pulling it down as he kissed her neck, his lips trailing hot kisses along her skin. The dress fell to the floor, pooling at her feet, leaving her standing in nothing but her black lace underwear. Lando’s eyes darkened as he took her in, his gaze roaming over her body with undisguised hunger.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip before moving up to cup her breast. Her breath hitched as his thumb brushed over her nipple, sending sparks of pleasure through her.

He leaned down, his lips closing over her other nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak. Y/n moaned softly, her hands gripping his shoulders as waves of pleasure washed over her. Lando alternated between sucking and licking, his hands exploring every inch of her body as if he couldn’t get enough of her.

“Lando…” she gasped, her head falling back as his mouth moved lower, kissing a trail down her stomach. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he knelt in front of her, his eyes filled with longing.

“I want to taste every part of you,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

Lando’s breath hitched as he pulled Y/n's panties down, his eyes widening at the sight before him. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with hunger. She was soaking wet, her arousal glistening in the dim light of the room. Her pussy was flushed and dripping, and Lando felt like he might lose his mind just looking at her.

He glanced up at her, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. “Is this because of me?” he teased, his fingers lightly brushing over her slick folds. Y/n let out a sharp gasp, her hips arching toward his touch involuntarily. Lando chuckled darkly, his thumb circling her clit slowly, deliberately. “You love playing hard to get, but in reality, you’re desperate for me as much as I am for you, baby.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed, but she couldn’t deny the truth in his words. Her body betrayed her, trembling under his touch, her core aching for more. “Lando…” she whispered, her voice breathless and pleading.

“Tell me,” he demanded, his fingers still teasing her, just barely touching where she needed him most. “Tell me how much you want me.”

She bit her lip, trying to hold back the whimper that threatened to escape. “I… I want you,” she admitted, her voice shaking. “So much.”

Lando’s grin widened, and he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her inner thigh. “Good girl,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. His mouth moved closer to her center, and Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. She could feel his tongue flicking lightly against her, tasting her, savoring her.

“God, you’re delicious,” he groaned, his hands gripping her thighs to keep her spread open for him. He licked a long stripe up her slit, and Y/n moaned loudly, her hands flying to grip the sheets beneath her. “Lando!”

He didn’t hesitate, diving in with an intensity that left her gasping. His tongue swirled around her clit, slow and deliberate at first, then faster, harder. Y/n’s back arched off the bed, her legs trembling uncontrollably. “Oh my God…” she whimpered, her fingers tangling in his hair.

Lando hummed against her, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. He slipped two fingers inside her, curling them just right, and Y/n cried out, her hips bucking against his face. “Yes, yes, yes!” she chanted, her entire body coiled tight with tension.

He continued to devour her, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony, driving her closer and closer to the edge. Y/n’s moans grew louder, more desperate, her body writhing beneath him. “Please, Lando, please!” she begged, her nails digging into his scalp.

“Come for me, baby,” he urged, his voice rough with desire. “Let go. I want to feel you come undone.”

And she did. The orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she screamed his name. Lando didn’t let up, licking and sucking her through it until she was a trembling, boneless mess beneath him.

When he finally pulled away, Y/n was gasping for air, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Lando wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes hungry as he looked down at her. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come,” he said, his voice low and husky.

Y/n blushed, still reeling from the intensity of her climax. “Lando… that was…” she trailed off, unable to find the words.

He grinned, crawling up her body to hover over her. “Just wait,” he whispered, his lips brushing against hers. “We’re just getting started.”

His kiss was deep and searing, and Y/n could taste herself on his tongue. It should have been strange, but instead, it only fueled her desire. Her hands roamed over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles beneath her fingertips. She wanted him—all of him.

Lando broke the kiss, his eyes locking onto hers. “I need you, Y/n,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “Not just your body. All of you.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, and she nodded, her eyes welling with tears. “I need you too,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Then let me show you how much you mean to me,” he said, his hand sliding down to grip his cock, positioning himself at her entrance.

Y/n’s breath hitched as she felt the tip of him pressing against her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “Please,” she begged, her body already craving him.

Lando hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching hers. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice gentle.

She nodded, her hands moving to cup his face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she whispered.

With that, Lando pushed into her slowly, inch by inch, giving her time to adjust to his size. Y/n’s eyes fluttered shut, a soft moan escaping her lips as she felt him fill her completely. “You’re so tight,” he groaned, his forehead resting against hers.

They stayed like that for a moment, both of them breathing heavily, savoring the connection between them. Then Lando began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through Y/n’s body.

“God, you feel amazing,” he whispered, his hands gripping her hips as he picked up the pace. Y/n’s moans grew louder, her nails digging into his back as she urged him on.

Their bodies moved together in perfect sync, their breaths mingling as they lost themselves in each other. Y/n could feel another orgasm building, stronger than the last, and she clung to Lando, her cries of pleasure filling the room.

“Come with me, baby,” Lando growled, his thrusts becoming more frantic. Y/n nodded, her body tightening around him as she tumbled over the edge once again. Lando followed soon after, his release spilling into her as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

For a moment, they stayed like that, their hearts racing, their bodies still intertwined. Then Lando pulled out, collapsing beside her and pulling her into his arms.

“That was…” Y/n began, but Lando cut her off with a kiss.

“Perfect,” he finished, his fingers tracing patterns on her bare skin. “You’re perfect.”

Y/n smiled, snuggling closer to him. “So are you,” she whispered, her eyes closing as exhaustion began to take over. She could feel Lando’s arms tighten around her, and for the first time in a long time, she felt safe, cherished, loved.

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of their breathing, tangled together in the aftermath of passion. Lando’s fingers trailed lazily up and down Y/n’s arm, his touch leaving a trail of warmth that made her shiver. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, her own still fluttering from what had just transpired between them.

“You okay?” Lando murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a ripple of heat through her. His hand paused on her shoulder, fingertips brushing against her skin as if he couldn’t stop touching her.

Y/n tilted her head to look at him, a small smile playing on her lips. “More than okay,” she admitted, her voice soft but sure. “That was… incredible.”

Lando grinned, the kind of grin that made her stomach tighten in the most delicious way. “Good,” he said simply, because what else was there to say? His fingers resumed their slow exploration, tracing circles over her shoulder now, the touch tender, almost reverent. “Because I plan on making it even better next time.”

She laughed, a light, breathy sound that made his chest swell with pride. “Confident, are we?”

“With you?” Lando leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Always.” The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down her spine, and she instinctively pressed closer to him, craving more of his touch, more of him.

They fell into a comfortable silence again, the weight of what had just happened settling over them. It wasn’t just the physical connection—though that had been earth-shattering—it was the emotional one too. Y/n could feel it, this undeniable pull toward him, something deeper than attraction, something that scared her a little but also filled her with a strange sense of peace.

Lando broke the silence first, his voice softer now, more serious. “Hey,” he started, his fingers stilling on her back. “Can I ask you something?”

Y/n shifted slightly so she could meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, intense, and they held hers with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. “Of course,” she replied, her voice a little steadier than she felt.

He hesitated for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. “Why did you keep pushing me away?” he asked finally, his tone gentle, not accusing. “All those months, all those gifts… I thought…” He trailed off, shaking his head slightly. “I guess I just want to understand why it took so long for you to let me in.”

Y/n exhaled slowly, her mind racing. She hadn’t expected this. Not now, not after everything they’d just shared. But she owed him honesty, didn’t she? They were past the point of pretenses.

“I was scared,” she admitted quietly, her eyes dropping to where her fingers fiddled with the edge of the sheet. “Scared of getting hurt, scared of… of not being enough for someone like you.”

Lando frowned, his hand lifting to cup her cheek, forcing her to look at him again. “Y/n,” he said her name with such tenderness it nearly stole her breath. “You’re more than enough. You’re everything. Don’t you see that?”

Her throat tightened, emotions swirling inside her like a storm she couldn’t control. “It’s not just that,” she continued, her voice trembling now. “Your life… it’s so different from mine. You’re this famous, successful man, and I’m just… ordinary. And your past—all those women—it made me think maybe I was just another conquest to you.”

Lando’s expression softened, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone. “You’re not ordinary,” he said firmly. “And my past… yeah, I’ve made mistakes. But none of them meant anything. Not like this. Not like you.” He paused, his gaze searching hers. “Do you believe me?”

Y/n nodded, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I do,” she whispered. “I just… I needed to know you were serious about me. That this wasn’t just some fling for you.”

“It’s not,” Lando assured her, his voice steady, unwavering. “I’ve never been more serious about anyone in my life. And I want this—us—to be real.”

She blinked, surprised by the raw sincerity in his words. “You really mean that?”

“Every word,” he replied without hesitation. “And I want to prove it to you. Properly. Will you go on a date with me? A real one, no pressure, just… you and me.”

Y/n felt a smile tug at her lips, despite the tears still threatening to fall. “A date, huh?” she teased, her voice lightening as she wiped at her eyes. “What, flowers and dinner and all that?”

Lando chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “If that’s what you want, then yes. But honestly, I’d take you anywhere, as long as it means I get to spend time with you.”

She pretended to consider it, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm… tempting. Very tempting.”

His grin widened, his hand slipping around her waist to pull her closer. “Is that a yes?” he asked, his tone hopeful, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Y/n feigned reluctance, though her heart was already racing at the thought. “I don’t know… you’ll have to convince me.”

Lando’s laughter filled the room, and before she could react, he rolled her beneath him, his body pressing hers into the mattress. “Oh, I’ll convince you, alright,” he murmured, his lips grazing her neck in a way that made her gasp. “Starting right now.”

She giggled, squirming beneath him, though her hands found their way to his shoulders, holding him close. “You’re insatiable,” she accused, though there was no real bite to her words.

“Only for you,” he replied, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was both tender and possessive, leaving her breathless when he finally pulled away. “So? Date night?”

Y/n sighed, pretending to weigh her options, though she knew her answer already. “Fine,” she said with mock exasperation. “But only if you promise to behave yourself.”

Lando smirked, his hand sliding down her side in a way that made her shiver. “No promises,” he quipped, leaning in to kiss her again, slower this time, more deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world.

When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, his breathing uneven. “Thank you,” he whispered, the sincerity in his voice making her chest ache. “For giving me a chance.”

Y/n reached up to brush a strand of hair from his face, her heart swelling with emotion. “Thank you,” she replied softly. “For not giving up on me.”

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten. Then Lando cleared his throat, his lips quirking into a playful smirk. “So… since we’re officially dating now…”

She raised an eyebrow, already sensing where this was going. “Yes?”

Lando’s grin turned downright wicked. “Does that mean I can tell everyone you’re my girlfriend? Because, let me tell you, I’ve been dying to show you off.”

Y/n felt her cheeks flush, but she couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he conceded, leaning in to nip at her bottom lip. “But I’m yours. All yours.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, and before she could respond, he captured her lips in another searing kiss, one that left no doubt in her mind that he meant every word.

Lando’s lips lingered on hers, soft and sweet, before he pulled back just enough to whisper against her mouth. ”You know, I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. For you.” His voice was low, almost reverent, and it sent a shiver down Y/n’s spine.

She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing playfully. ”Oh? And how many other girls have you said that to?” Her tone was teasing, but there was a hint of vulnerability beneath it, a question she hadn’t meant to ask but couldn’t hold back.

Lando’s expression softened, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone. ”None,” he said firmly, his gaze locked onto hers. ”Because none of them were you. None of them ever could be.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. He was too much—too intense, too raw, too honest. It made her want to retreat, to shield herself from the way his words seemed to reach into her chest and wrap around her heart. But at the same time, she wanted to lean into it, to let herself feel everything he was offering.

Instead, she smirked, leaning back slightly. ”Careful, Lando. That almost sounded like a love confession.”

He blinked, then laughed, shaking his head. ”What if it was?”

Y/n froze, her playful demeanor faltering. ”What?”

His laughter faded, replaced by something far more serious. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks as his eyes searched hers. ”I said, what if it was? What if I told you I’m in love with you? Because I am. Completely, ridiculously, stupidly in love with you.”

The room seemed to tilt, her stomach doing somersaults as his words sank in. She stared at him, her mind racing. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not yet. Not like this. She wasn’t ready for this kind of honesty, this kind of intensity. But as she looked into his eyes, she realized she didn’t have a choice. He’d already laid himself bare, and now it was her turn.

Still, old habits died hard, and she couldn’t resist falling back on her usual defense mechanism: teasing. ”In love with me?Really? After only one night together? That doesn’t sound very self-controlled of you.”

Lando groaned, dropping his forehead against hers. ”’Y/n… You’re killing me here.”

She grinned, feeling a little more in control now that she’d thrown him off balance. ”Am I? Because it seems like you’re the one who’s being all dramatic. ‘Completely, ridiculously, stupidly in love’? That’s quite the declaration.”

He lifted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly, though there was no real annoyance in his expression. ”You’re really going to tease me about this?”_

”Maybe,” she said with a shrug, her grin widening. ”Or maybe I just don’t believe you.”

That got a reaction. Lando’s hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were pressed together. ”You don’t believe me?” he repeated, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. ”Then let me prove it to you.”

Before she could respond, his lips crashed onto hers, cutting off any retort she might have had. It wasn’t a gentle kiss—it was desperate, hungry, full of all the emotions he’d just confessed. His tongue swept into her mouth, claiming her in a way that left no room for doubt. She moaned softly, her hands gripping his shoulders as she kissed him back, her teasing forgotten in the heat of the moment.

When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing heavily. ”Now do you believe me?” he asked, his voice rough.

She bit her lip, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. ”Maybe,” she said again, though her tone was softer this time. ”But I think you might need to try harder to convince me.”

Lando groaned again, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes. ”You’re impossible, you know that?”

”And yet here you are, declaring your undying love for me,” she shot back, her grin returning.

He shook his head, but he was smiling too. ”Yeah, well, I guess I’m a masochist.”

Y/n laughed, the sound light and carefree, and Lando’s heart swelled at the sight of her happiness. He’d do anything to keep that smile on her face, even if it meant putting up with her endless teasing.

They spent the next hour talking, laughing, and stealing kisses, neither of them willing to let the other go. Eventually, though, exhaustion began to creep in, and Y/n found herself stifling a yawn.

”Tired?” Lando asked, his fingers gently carding through her hair.

”A little,” she admitted, leaning into his touch.

”Come on, let’s get some rest,” he said, standing up and holding out his hand to her.

She hesitated for a moment, then took his hand, letting him lead her to the bedroom. They settled under the covers together, Lando wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. ”Goodnight, Y/n,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

”Goodnight, Lando,” she murmured back, her eyelids already drooping.

As she drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, she couldn’t help but smile. Maybe, just maybe, she was starting to believe him after all.

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fuck-you-upmusicbracket · 1 day ago

Text

Against the Kitchen Floor (Will Wood)

And I swear! I will die trying!/I'm still in the process, but I'm making progress; I promise I honestly wanna prove improvement's possible, I swear!/I'm so fucking sorry! I'm not a good person, I'm barely a person at all, But someday I'll be perfect, and I'll make up for it all!

Less rare than scarce, less diamond then rough/Unlikely to be more than just the coal you failed to crush

I'm catatonic in your arms, crying, "How did I cause so much harm?"/I'm down pounding my head against the kitchen floor/Apologizing for my life and ever entering yours

The vertex of my redemption arc/I’m searching on that virgin heart

"The raw emotion! And I strongly relate to desperately wanting to improve for someone you love. I belt out this song when I feel really hopeless"

"my one OC. also me. also it's just a really good song. one of will's best imo. screaminbg"

"Literally hits almost all of my self-esteem issues. Feeling like people only care about you for your body? Check. Not understanding why anyone would want you? Check. Thinking that all you do is hurt people? Check. I don't cry very often but this song DEFINITELY made me teary"

"one of those if u aren’t paying attention to the lyrics ur like this is nice but once u hear them its an OW holy OW and guilt and I’m sorry feelings"

"Just. Loving someone but not feeling like you’re good enough and trying to improve."

"Not only does this song have lyrics that are deeply relatable to me, but this song also feels very deeply personal to the artist and I feel that anyone who listens to it for the first time has that same feeling of getting punched in the gut. Just the lyrics and the melody and Will Wood’s vocals make this song an absolute masterpiece and I cry every time I hear it."

"One reason I'm attached to this song is because my friend sent it to me and said "I'm kin assigning you this song" and ruined my life (/j) It messed me up because I've always had a hard time in my life figuring myself out and dealing with my emotions, and for what feels like the first time, this song has been able to near perfectly describe how I feel about myself and my impact on other people, and it always just meant so much to me that my friend who sent it to me knows me better than I know myself and shared the song with me and I love them dearly."

Tongues and Teeth (The Crane Wives)

If you're fine with that you can be mine.... I WILL POISON ALL YOUR HAPPY THOUGHTS!/I WILL LOVE YOU LIKE THE ASHES IN MY CIGARETTE BOX!

I've grown a mouth so sharp and cruel/It's all that I can give to you, my dear/And when you come in quick to steal a kiss/My teeth will only cut your lips, my dear

And I know that you mean so well/But I am not a vessel for your good intent

"I quote the above passage."

"It sounds happy until you listen to the lyrics and then you're like. Oh"

"Can I submit The Crane Wives whole catalog? Just every song they've ever made? Tongues & Teeth is so good tho so I'll make it my flagship, its both so personal and so universal cause you can interpret it in so many ways to apply it to so many blorbos. I've applied it to 10 and it fits and hits different every time. Absolutely Iconic song."

Against the Kitchen Floor submitted by @pixopolis + others

Tongues and Teeth submitted by @they-thespian666 + others

#fuck you up bracket #tournament #polls #will wood #the crane wives

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karinadele · 1 day ago

Text

Care

Ratchet x Cat reader

Based on @qiandai_suian's comic.

I scream again reader is a cat!! Gen reader ofc. Just fluff with Ratchet.

Nudging the cube of energon with your head, you let out an exasperated meow. One paw after another, you push it towards him. You’ve been here for weeks now, and have rarely seen him eat anything. Why is he so stubborn! Doesn’t he know he’ll die if he doesn’t eat?!

Back on the streets, you’ve lost more than you can count from the lack of food. Being the oldest of your family, you always did your best to hunt down scraps for your siblings. Leftover fish from the trash, stealing meat from the human vendors, even occasionally approaching kind humans for kibbles.

That evening, hiding behind boxes of trash, taking shelter from the light drizzle of the rain. A human boy approached you. Both startled and curious, you poke your head out. The human boy bent down, meeting you at eye level, reaching out. Is he offering his hand to you? You want something warm from this cold and wet nightmare. Stepping out of the box, you make your way to him. A gentle stroke runs under your chin, and you find yourself purring. Not a bad human after all. You could get used to this.

What you did not expect, was that he would not be your guardian. Passed between him, a spunky looking girl, and a young boy. None of them would be able to house you.

Please don’t put me back on the streets. I Don’t want to lose this warmth.

Fortunately for you, you do not need to be back wandering along the streets. Unfortunately for you, you’re in the care of a giant –and I mean giant, metal robot. His frame wasn’t soft like humans, hard and metal. But still warm and gentle. Your butler/guardian, as you've come to realize, is called Ratchet.

Adjusting to your new environment wasn’t difficult at all. Sure, everyone here is huge, but it’s never been more comforting and fun. Even the humans come to visit you sometimes. Finally, you’ve gained the freedom and love you've been longing for.

—---

Excitedly Jack holds up the kitty in Ratchet’s face. “We can’t take it in. Mom won’t let me.” He tells Ratchet. Miko and Raf chime in that they can’t either.

Stunned, Ratchet almost wanted to tell them ‘Why is this my problem?’ But with the little feline in his servos, it rolls around and dances on him. Unconsciously, he finds his spark warming up. This must be why humans love cats. It’s adorable. Paws up with those huge eyes staring right up at him. He doesn’t know what to do with it, but he finds faceplate lightly flushing up as the creature nuzzles on his digits.

This thing is huge. Humans are big enough, but this one? Giant. Does it matter? Hell no! Everything is a free game! Hopping off the human as you lunge into his servos. The metal touching your paw pads as you analyze him. He seems surprised, but you don’t feel an inkling of fear. Rolling over onto your back as you nuzzle your body into his palm. It’s hard, yet surprisingly comfortable. You could definitely get used to it. Walking over to his digit as you scratch your chin on it. Cheek and chin scratches are the best. Purring as you take advantage of this opportunity to get as much itches out as you can.

He may not admit it, but he just fell in love. Such a tiny creature. Smaller than even humans, yet so bold and brave. Without a care in the world. Keeping up his grumpy demeanor, he tells the humans he’ll keep it. But under that hard metal exterior, he knows this soft creature has already made it’s way into his spark.

Without a second thought, you leap from his digit to his shoulder. You never get to enjoy being this high up. Occasionally when climbing buildings, but this one moves. Noticing the antenna on his back, you smirk and pounce towards it. Heh. It’s mine. Metal yet bendable, you bat at it. It bounces back every time it slips out of your paws, but that’s the fun of it! Rolling onto your side as you chase for it again.

“Wait!” Ratchet calls out. “What are you doing?! That’s dangerous!” Picking the kitty off his back, bringing it to his faceplace. Such carelessness, doesn’t it know that it could fall and injure itself?! Scolding it as the usual cranky bot he is, but you? You don’t care. Music to your ears as you paw at his digit. Such an exciting situation!

—---

Slowly but surely, Ratchet learns what it means to take care of a cat. A bed (graciously provided by Jack), learning to feed it with Raf, and Miko showing him treats and tricks.

Such a tiny organism, yet has a huge appetite. Always crying for food, like it’s never eaten before in its life. If it was anything else, he totally would have snapped and told it to shut up and be quiet. Or even thrown it out. But it’s you. Fluffy and adorable, he can’t say no.

Learning to feed it was an experience. It even consumes different fuel from what the human do. With accurate precision, –thanks to his steady servos. He may be old and a little creaky, but he still has excellent dexterity. Using his forceps to scoop up kibbles to feed you, as a surprised and curious expression creeps up his faceplate. A completely new experience to him, and one he knows he’ll latch on to. Who knows? Maybe he’ll be less cranky and more upbeat now.

You integrate really well into the team. A different family definitely, 3 different species under the same roof, –base. You don’t understand their language, but have picked up the sounds of certain things. Your name, Ratchet’s name, the humans, even some of the bots. Oh, and the sound of the groundbridge. A magical swirl of green and white, a portal to somewhere. Ratchet once had to chase you through it as you door-dashed out into it.

Flinging up and down in the air between Wheeljack and Smokescreen, you enjoy the company and thrill of being so high up and off the ground.

Ratchet on the other hand? He’s about to lose it. ‘He needed that’ almost slipped out. Wrench in hand, as his optics widen so much that it could bend his optic ridges. “WHAT IN PRIMUS’ NAME ARE YOU TWO DOING!” as he smacks them on the helm. Huffing and puffing as he does.

You on the other hand? Have no idea what’s going on. Your game just cut short by your guardian, Wheeljack and Smokescreen are now laying face down on the ground. Hopping between their backs, as you roll around and kneed on them.

He loves you. Over time the team has noticed how much more rested Ratchet has become with you around. Team Prime dubbing you the name of ‘Prime Kitty’.

And you’ve grown to love him too. Nudging him next to his optics, as you sit on the corner of his helm. Being so small, you can meander in the smallest places of his, finding perfect nesting spots to nap in. The neck cables being particularly warm. His chassis also is a fantastic place to curl up on, though you’ve come to learn he rarely lays down. How can one sleep so little? You’re almost concerned about how little he sleeps. Humans already sleep so little! Everyone should sleep half the day away! Napping is the best!

His devotion only grows stronger as he spends his free time –whatever little he has, building you structures and towers. Made with metal and wood, laced with a soft velvet fabric. Servos on his hips, as he analyzes his work. Never has he been this proud of a creation.

Arcee? She’s judging. The doc bot has definitely gone off the rails. Yet no one will stop him. Not even Optimus. He may be spending too much time showing his love to you, but everyone knows. The cranky medic has finally found peace and love. Even Optimus can’t help but smile at the situation.

You love it. Never having such a luxurious experience before, and now it’s yours permanently. Napping everywhere on it, kneading it, and scratching it. You’ve even got a slide that you can roll off and enjoy.

—---

Working away at his console, he hears a consistently scraping on the ground. Originally ignoring it as it’s probably one of the kids doing something, but the sound creeps closer by the minute. When he finally pulls his optics off the terminal, he finds a cube of energon on the ground. Popping your head out from behind it, as you paw at it. You brought him fuel.

He can’t help but find his faceplate soften into a smile. Picking up the energon as you hop onto his servo. Spark pulsing and glistening to a degree he’s never experienced before. You nuzzle the edge of the cube towards him, before opting to roll around and use his digits to scratch yourself.

Sipping the energon as he feels you roll around on his helm, now used to the fact you enjoy batting at his antennas and audials. The only sounds around you two are the soft humming of his engines, and your rumbling purring.

#transformers #ratchet x reader #Ratchet x Cat #lmaaaoo #rambles #transformers x reader

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strang3lov3 · 1 day ago

Text

Underfoot

You get off on Roman's shoe.

Tags - dom!roman, smut, rough sex, gross sex, shoe humping/grinding, shoe licking, humiliation, degradation, masturbation, cum eating, biting, hitting, kicking, a sprinkling of ass play, nipple biting, dacryphilia, no aftercare we die like men, sex as sh, manipulative romey, bully romey calls you all sorts of nasty things, oneshot. Idk. believe it or not this is consensual. romey’s all fucknutty, reader has self esteem issues. A/N - this one’s an acquired taste, i think. it made me squirm as i wrote it lol. This is a one shot and can be read alone buuuuut in my mind it works as a continuation of tear you apart. Thank you @cum-a-calla for holding my hand and @endlessthxxghts for betaing you sick fucks that i hold so dearly in my heart!

“You again, huh?”

Roman’s lips curl into an amused smirk. He licks them as his eyes lazily scan down the length of your body, tracing the long, curved lines of your breasts and waist and hips. You pick at your nails and shift your weight between your two feet, a nervous tick. He loves that tick. “Yeah,” you mutter reluctantly. “Hi.”

Roman grins. “Hi,” he says, and something about his voice mocks you. He’s good at that. Making you feel uncertain and squirm uncomfortably without saying much of anything. It’s all in the way he looks at you, how he smiles. You know it when you see it. It’s just him.

You know what you’re here for, the same thing you always want when you visit him like this. The pain that walks the line between good hurt and bad hurt, the pleasure and the agony. That specific violence you crave, only from Roman’s hands. All that ache inside releases with the way he hits you hard enough to bruise, blood rushing to the surface. The drawing of your blood, skin burning in that horrible way that only he can ignite. Only Roman can scratch that itch, satisfy your raw, instinctive need to be hurt by him.

It’s that strange intimacy, too. The way bodies connect, that vulnerable proximity that comes with breath shared, the faintest bit of tenderness that hangs through the air even when it’s wrapped in something darker. Your special little arrangement that only makes sense between the two of you. But it works, right?

The room is dark, lit only by lamps. It’s late and everyone’s gone home - should have, at least. But Roman, Roman’s still here. Lying on his stupid gray couch as if he was waiting for you, almost like he knew you’d be here. He probably did, honestly, how he knows you so well. In ways you don’t even know yourself. You wonder what tipped him off, what about you today told him that you’d show up for him to satisfy your shared, twisted craving. You could ask, but he’d never tell you.

“Was wondering how long you’d make it without it,” Roman says, voice dripping with that smug superiority. “My little slut. Slut for pain,” he smirks.

Roman stretches then, neck craning over the armrest, back arching in a languid movement as he groans. You watch him, caught in the strange, raw beauty of the way he exists - so profoundly human, the folds in the fabric of his shirt shifting with his breaths. He looks so lovely like this, Like someone could love him. You could, honestly. Would be nothing new for you, the moth drawn to the flame. “Well, c’mon, then,” he snaps, the sharp command cutting through the quietness. “Quickly.”

You know the rules. You’re naked and he is not. Never is. As you take off each of your garments, baring yourself completely to him, Roman unbuckles his belt and only pushes his pants just enough down his thighs. He does this just to fuck with you, twist the knife a little as he knows how badly you want to feel his skin on your skin, or the full weight of him on top of you. You want that, don’t you? Will you ever admit it?

You’ll only ever get fragments of Roman, scraps tossed at you like you’re a dog begging under the table. Enough of him to tide you over for the moment, never satisfying you fully.

Roman spits into his palm before reaching for his cock, working it to its full length. “Fuck yourself first,” he says, voice flat, dismissive. “I’m really not in the mood to hear you bitching and moaning when it hurts, so. Do what you need to. It’s kinda supposed to hurt anyway, y’know. Guess you can add this to the list of favors I’ve done for you.”

“I know. Thank you.”

With two fingers, you trace your seam, already starting to drip with arousal and you hate yourself for it.

“Ah-ah. One finger. One. C’mon, you know better.”

Roman’s done this before. He likes the show of you fucking yourself with just one finger, knowing it’s not enough to prepare you for his cock. It doesn’t even do much to get you wet, really. It’s just another way for him to humiliate you or something, no real desire behind it. It’s all control, making you rub salt in your own wound.

You push a single digit past your lips and slide it through your slick folds, circling your clit just once “In,” Roman instructs, and you push your finger inside yourself, feeling your hot, throbbing insides, “And out,” Roman says, voice still irritatingly casual, like he’s watching a performance. But he is, isn’t he?

Roman squints slightly, eyes narrowing as he watches you fuck yourself, a lazy smile curlling at the corner of his lips. He continues to fuck his fist, all lazy and slow, like he’s bored, couldn’t give a shit.

“Yeah, like that, sweetheart. Think that’s enough? That good?”

“I-”

“Changed my mind, I don’t care,” Roman interrupts with his tone clipped, cutting you off with a wave of his hand. “Just shut up and come here.”

He sits up and slaps his thigh twice in invitation - or command, really - before reclining back against the couch, settling in as he folds his arms behind his head.

You hesitate for a moment, then move toward him, straddling his lap as his eyes flick over you. You grip his toned shoulders instinctively as you steady yourself. You reach between your bodies and touch the head of his cock, wet with his sticky precum, and line him up with your entrance. “Yep, like that. Down you fuckin’ go,” he says, hands finding your hips as he takes the liberty to force you down with a firm push. The sting is immediate and sharp, and you inhale slowly, breath catching in your throat as your eyes squeeze shut. Stars dancing behind your eyelids. You let out a long exhale to match.

“Is that a new coping mechanism or something, huh?” Roman mocks. He shifts beneath you, adjusting so that he’s buried inside you completely, his smirk never faltering. “No, no, I’m kidding. That’s good, you know. Healthy.”

You hold onto the back of the couch, knowing better than to hold onto Roman. Can’t get too friendly, he says. He’s almost maniacal in this way, how he keeps you isolated while being inside you. Minimal contact. Everything he does, he does to you. You’re a vessel, he tells you. A fleshlight with a head attached.

“Hey, right here. Focus right here for a second,” Roman grabs your jaw, digging his thumb and forefinger into the hollows of your cheeks, squeezing the flesh against your molars. “You remember the rules, right, sweetheart? You don’t get to cum on my cock, yeah?” Your skin tickles as Roman pushes some hair out of your eyes, the action starkly tender in comparison to the harsh way he holds your face.

You nod quickly. “And you remember why?” he adds.

“I don’t deserve to,” you answer through your teeth, voice all muffled with the effort it takes to get the words out. Your jaw aches under his grip, and you remain obedient.

Roman tilts his head. “Repeat it,” he demands, tone low and unyielding.

“I don’t deserve it.” The words feel heavier this time and tears begin to blur your vision, stinging at the corners of your eyes.

“Yeah, good. Good girl. Took you long enough to remember, though that’s how it always goes with dumb sluts like you, huh? Always all stupid and fuck drunk. I know you can’t help it,” he murmurs, voice dripping with feigned sympathy. “Whatever. Just fuckin’ move.”

You move yourself up on Roman’s cock almost all the way, then sink back down again. It takes you a minute to build a pace but Roman demonstrates patience, surprisingly. The fullness of his cock inside you, the ache it brings.

“I hate you,” Roman whispers. “Do you have any idea how much I fucking hate you?” Without allowing you to answer, he takes control then, like he’s unable to help himself. He bounces you hard and fast, your ass hitting the top of his firm thighs with each pass. His eyes are dark and wild as he watches your body move, all that rippling, moving flesh just for him. “I’d even bet I hate you more than you hate yourself. How about that?”

Roman grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head to the side harshly, sending a sharp jolt of pain through your neck, causing an involuntary whine to escape your throat. He bites your shoulder, growling as he pounds into you. “Hey. Does it hurt yet?” he mumbles, squeezing his jaw even tighter, breaking your tender skin with his sharp canine teeth.

“Yeah,” you whimper, keeping your eyes tightly closed to fight back tears. In truth, you love the release that comes when he makes you cry. But it’s the game, you know? How long can you hold out, how long until he breaks you?

“Yeah, good,” he grunts. “How about this one, then? Tell me, scale of one to ten.” Roman pushes you back and lowers his head, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth before pinching it hard between his teeth, causing you to cry out. “Shhhh, shut the fuck up and take it. Fucking take it,” he growls, swatting your ass before repeating the action with your other breast. “Give me a number.”

“Ten, fuck- oh, fuck. Ten,” you wail.

“Damn. That bad, huh? You gonna cry?”

You shake your head, gripping the couch cushions hard enough that you could tear the upholstery, dig your fingers inside. “Mm. Wearing your big girl panties today, I see. Very cute,” he says, shifting so he’s lying back against the couch again, dragging you along with your nipple still between his teeth. “You’ll cry, just like you always do. Watch.”

Roman slaps you across the cheek, and it’s more of a beating than a proper smack. He’s done it to you before, and you sobbed for hours when he did. Must’ve hit a nerve. He watches your reaction with a twisted smile plastered on his face, his eyes crinkling. You look away, biting down on your wobbling bottom lip. “Oh, man. You’re trying so very hard to hold back those tears, aren’t you? Hey–look at me.”

You turn your head back to look at Roman, and that’s all it takes for you to burst into tears. He’s so handsome and so fucking sick, and you are too. Roman looks satisfied with himself, murmuring some insult before resuming his brutal assault on your cunt. “Yeah, there it is. Cry for me.”

Your crying turns Roman on even more, makes him feel like an animal. Breaking you down like this. Not like it’s hard, but still. He relishes in the power, knowing it’s all him that does this to you. His violence. Roman’s.

Roman fucks you brutally, just like he always does. Hands on your ass, one slides up your waist to squeeze and grope your tits. He inches the other toward your ass, circling the tight ring of muscle with his middle finger before pushing it inside, making you feel fuller than you already do. All you can do is take it, sobbing above him as he uses you. You summon the courage to look at him, with his cheeks flushed all over, a light sheen of sweat glittering at his temples. “You’re so fucked,” he tells you. “Just–all fucked up. I think–fuck– think you’re prettier like this. Really, I mean it. C’mere, baby.”

Roman wraps his arms around you, leaving you with no choice but to hold him too. It feels…unnatural, but you relish in the closeness all the same. He changes the way he fucks you so that it’s less of a clean thrusting and more of an intense rolling of his hips, as he knows your clit is grinding against his pubic bone, his wiry hair only adding to the friction. You can’t help the moan that spills from your lips, “Oh, Roman.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Roman groans, his cheek pressed against yours as he rocks his hips over and over into your dripping, tight pussy. He makes noises in your ear, knowing how much you love it. Kisses your throat to add insult to injury. You’re gonna come, and Roman knows it. Planned it. It’s a test, all part of the game. And look at you, falling for it. You really should know better.

It sort of takes you by surprise, that hot, sticky pleasure building in your gut. But nonetheless, it’s there. Roman’s tongue is tracing patterns on your neck and his hands hold you tightly, and you feel like you’re his. You cave, allowing yourself to touch him as your orgasm approaches. Feel the twitching veins in his neck, the muscles in his biceps tensing as he moves with you.

Roman times it perfectly. Right when you’re about to come he pulls out of you, the sudden loss of his cock causing you to cry out in frustration. “You stupid fucking cunt. What’d I tell you, huh? What did we talk about? Get the fuck off of me. Down.”

Roman shoves you backward with brutal force and you land on that awful, rough carpet, the wind knocked from your lungs. He stands above you, cock in fist as he lifts a leg and presses it against your ribcage, dragging it down, down, down your tummy until it rests against your mound. And you can’t fucking help yourself. You rock your hips, grinding your clit against the bottom of his shoe, and Roman’s beside himself. And you, you’re not even here. You’re trying to tell yourself that this isn’t happening, you poor thing. Cute.

“Oh my god,” he laughs. “You’re gonna get yourself off on my fucking - my shoe, you fucking loser?”

You figure the picture in front of him should be enough of an answer, but it’s not. “Hey–” Roman gives you a little kick against your cunt. “Answer me, you fucking slut.”

“Yes,” you sob, release once again approaching. Roman smiles in surprised delight, fucking his fist as he watches you writhe below him. Hair falling in front of his face, a lopsided grin with the dimples to match. He looks so tall like this, and you follow the line down his torso and his legs until all you’re looking at is his fucking shoe. The shiny black leather, the patterned socks. God. You moan his name loudly as you come, and to ruin your orgasm for his own amusement, he kicks you. And you moan louder, convulse even harder, pussy clenching around nothing. Fucking pathetic.

“Oh- fuck. Are you fucking real? I kick you and you come harder? Holy fuck,” he scoffs, squeezing his cock harder as he strokes it. “That’s fucking gross. Seriously, you are so fucking disgusting. Yeah, you should be crying. Jeeesus,” he laughs, his giggles turning into breathy moans as he rapidly pumps his fist. Roman comes then, spurting hot ropes of his come all over you - your face and your neck, your eyes, hair. Nothing that’ll be easy to clean up, of course. Roman hopes you’ll pass someone on your way home who’ll see the wreck he made of you and judge you for it worse than you judge yourself.

You’re a mess of drool, tears, and come by the end of it. Roman’s fucking drunk on power, absolutely elated with how this all turned out. Couldn’t have planned it better if he tried. You sit up then, but Roman quickly steps closer to your head, pressing the sole of his shoe against your throat and forcing you back down. “Ah-ah,” he tuts, dangling his shoe above your face before pressing the rubbery tip of the sole against your lips. “You know better than to leave a mess.”

If you enjoyed, it is MANDATORY that you drool and slobber in the comments or rb's or in my inbox. Be feral i DEMAND IT In all seriousness, your kind words mean the world to me ♡ ty for reading

Romey Tags

@goldenispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @gaeela-6 @bean-is-reading @slutsoutgutsout

@galarian-weezing-on-prep @cum-a-calla @pastelpinkflowerlife @kolsmikaelson @moth-maam56

@kothku @cult-of-escapism @swiftiegirliepop @bluecookies-and-ink @romanarose

@kappasbbgirl @magpiepills @highinmiamiii @verstappensrealwife @thesummerpetrichor

@lilipads @luiscarrutherss @baronessvonglitter @myromeow

@ovaryacted @doll-0f-flesh @always-andromeda @causesimmer @pedropascalbabygirl

@baloobalee @slimybeth69 @pearlstiare @romanisbrat @callsignwidow @ziggymars

#roman roy #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #roman roy smut #Roman Roy x reader smut #roman roy/you #roman roy/reader #succession #succession fic #kieran culkin #Kieran Culkin characters

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solzscribblez · 2 days ago

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star chaser - t. oikawa x reader smau

prologue

star chaser masterlist

You’ve been in love with Oikawa since your second year of middle school. You’ve known each other since you were only babies- your world has always gravitated around his, your friendship held together tightly by his gravity. He has an undeniable pull- and you’re fairly confident he knows it (having easily talked you into managing his volleyball team and several misguided pranks against Iwaizumi throughout high school).

Yet, for how observant you know he is on the court, he has always remained oblivious to your rapidly spiraling feelings towards him.

Oikawa kisses you for the first time two days after high school graduation.

You spend the rest of your summer caught up in him, wrapped up in the all-encompassing feelings that have followed you since middle school.

You lose yourself in it a bit- in the heady feeling of being a teenager who has everything they want, so much so that you don’t even consider what he’s thinking- what he wants.

On August 17th, he tells you he’s leaving Japan. You’ve crammed yourselves side by side on your porch, legs entangled despite the sticky summer heat. The popsicle he brought you is melting, running down your wrist- and you can’t bring yourself to care.

“What?” Your voice is quiet, strangled.

He’s not looking at you, his eyes focused on the sun beginning to dip beyond the horizon.

“I got an offer to play for a team in Argentina.”

He’s smiling. You’re pretty sure you’re going to be sick.

An uncomfortable stretch of silence passes between the two of you, filled only with the sound of cicadas in the background- only broken by the turning of his head to meet your eyes.

You break the silence first. “Congrats.”

His smile is as blinding as ever, the corners of his eyes crunching up with the width of his smile.

“Thank you~” he lilts, “You and Iwa have to come visit me- I’ll die without my best friends.”

You nod in response, lapsing back into silence as he turns back to watch the sun continue to set. You can’t seem to pull your eyes from him- the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, the ruffling of the wind through his hair, the shine of the sun on the slopes of his face.

The gravity of it all hits you at once- the need to flee so intense it nearly suffocates you.

He turns back to you as you stand, one eyebrow raised in a question as you untangle your legs from him, standing carefully.

“I need to get ready for dinner,” you respond to his silent ask, nearly choking on the lie. “If it gets too late before I set the table my mom will be mad.”

He laughs as he follows you in standing, grabbing your hand to ground himself as he pulls his own body up.

He doesn’t let go even as he stands to his full height, still smiling, giddy on his joy.

“You’ll visit, right?”

You nod, mustering as strong a smile as you can. “Of course I will.”

“Good.”

He’s still holding your hand.

He’s quieter than usual when he asks, “It’s exciting, right?”

You pull your hand out of his.

“I think that you’ll get everything you’ve ever wanted, Tooru.”

a/n:

✩ congrats to oikawa tooru for staring a causal fwb relationship with your best friend and not telling her!! good job buddy!

taglist: 23/50! please send an ask or reply to the masterlist to be tagged!

@wyrcan @kameyyy @akaashislovee @gigiiiiislife @staygoldsquatchling02

@s777athv @rriwyu @cupidsblonde @winniethepooh-lover @sahrii

@jaynawayna @torkorpse @semisutopia @asuritam @saltypuffin1040

@hor4yeoyeo @x3nafix @honoredalone @rrosiitas @nobodybutnnoorr

@nifflermimi @state-of-grac3 @trulyylee

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perdidosbucky-yyo · 3 days ago

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This might be my fav chapter yet!!!! 😩🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼

Bucky traded lazy kisses with you as your tears slowed, and you had no idea if it was his mouth that had your heart pounding and the crushing weight of everything that surrounded him.

Tingles, tingles everywhere 🥴😩 I just love their hold and pull dynamic it's addicting

“You’re putting a wall up,” he said, frowning as you grabbed your phone charger before he could. “Don’t shut me out, please.”

What does he expect?!! (I still felt a pang in my heart when he said this)

“This has been a lot, all of it, but we can’t go back and change it, and you know I can’t let you go because we’re meant to be together,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “You feel it. I know you do.”

How many times would he say that until you agreed? “Just because you think fate stepped in-”

How does he manage to sound unhinged and reasonable at the same time? 😭 I'm honestly starting to see his point

Bucky was hot on your heel and you didn't make it two steps out the door before he had a hand on you. “You’re upset with me. Putting up more of that wall.”

that wall 😩 he clearly despises the wall she puts up, he's had a tiny taste of her kind and vulnerable side and can't stand the thought of going back, he wants her vulnerable, raw, exposed, all to himself :')

“And you can push all you want, but I’ll just pull you closer,” he smiled, making you huff when he actually did so. “I’m not afraid to let you burn me.”

THIS MAN 💀 we're gonna die in his arms aren't we?

“Because even arguing with you makes me happy,” he sincerely stated. “And now all I want to do is find a way to put a smile back on your face.”

Ok but why does this make me so happy???

“You’re infuriating,” you whispered when he touched the corner of your mouth and made it twitch in a small smile. “Impossible.”

“I know,” he whispered back, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, you’re tired and you’re overwhelmed, which is completely my fault. Am I right?”

HOW DID HE DO THAT???? RUNNING A HAND THROUGH HIS HAIR??? His hand on the corner of her lips??? I'M SAT. I was literally just as mad as reader and he really managed to calm me down too 🤯 excellent writing bestie

This was nothing like the slow, languid kisses from minutes ago. This was dominant, claiming, threatening to rob you of the air in your lungs, like he wanted you to feed your own breath into him. He either forgot Ray was there, or he simply didn’t care.

I- 🥴 this man doesn't care if she hates him or not does he? He's like a predator playing with his food, but at the same time he's so soft and wants nothing but to make her happy🥺.... My toxic trait is that I love him 🫡

“You're certainly keeping him on his toes,” Ray said, not driving off until he made sure Bucky was in his vehicle, too.

I could say the same thing about you Navy😩😂😂

I'm so scared of what comes next with Clark, he gives me the creeps jsjsjs more than Bucky tbh😂

But wow reader is learning to tame her beast and I'm so excited to see how that goes 😏

Hold You Tight: Part 16

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 15 | Series Masterlist | Part 17

Chapter Word Count: Over 5.4k

Chapter Summary: Bucky tries to pull you closer when you want to pull away, and someone else in your life my not take no for an answer.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, arguing, tension, slight harassment, kissing, reference to stalking, inner turmoil, manipulation, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky traded lazy kisses with you as your tears slowed, and you had no idea if it was his mouth that had your heart pounding and the crushing weight of everything that surrounded him. It was so much to unpack. Every encounter with him seemed to be that way. Something blindsided you or suffocated you, but you hadn't been at all prepared for what he just shared. And how could you? He didn't keep photos of his mother around, and you hadn't gone poking around online.

Would you have found out the truth if you had?

He followed your lips when you pulled away. “It’s okay,” he whispered, pulling you back in.

It wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay. Though it partially made sense now why he was moving so fast. He believed if he met you then that you would've fallen in love and been together to this day. Because he didn't seek you out then and lost so much time, he was packing everything into a rushed time span. Dating, meeting his friends, getting you into his place. He was moving things along at an accelerated speed, and you were barely keeping up with the ride.

“No.” The muffled word against his lips somehow rang out loud and clear enough for him to stop, but you put a hand on his chest in case he tried to lean in again. “Why are you punishing me?”

His eyes rounded. “You think I’m punishing you? Jesus, why would you think that?”

“Because of how you went about all of this. I know you were desperate, and I get the drive behind some of your actions now,” you said, which you refused to excuse. You got it but couldn’t excuse it. “Your response of ‘where’s the fun in that?’ when I said you couldn’t just ask me out like a normal person? You almost seemed to delight in intimidating me. Why?”

If you saved his mom, why do this?

“I didn’t delight in that. I played it wrong,” he admitted in a quiet voice, surprising you. “I approached it like…”

“Like everything else in your life where you have everyone under your thumb through fear. You did the same thing to me.” You laughed just a little. “In a way, it worked because I’m officially afraid to try to leave you.”

Had things blossomed between you two organically, you’d like to believe that things would’ve been better. Healthy. There was always the chance that a relationship might’ve come to an end because life was like that. But if he frightened you enough to stay forever, he’d never have to worry. The stars would still align as far as he was concerned.

“I don’t want you to fear me or what we have,” he whispered, reaching for you as you scooted back.

“What we have? Tell me, do you think your mom would be proud of your actions to obtain me or ashamed?” You couldn’t believe that was the kind of man she raised, to put fear into the heart of the person he supposedly loved.

He flinched. Actually flinched. You might as well have raised a hand to him. “She…” He swallowed. “She would’ve wanted us together.”

“Like this? By you not giving me a choice?” you asked, pushing yourself up. “I need to go home.” There would be no getting through to him and this revelation was doing your head in. One cup of coffee wasn't enough either.

He got up to follow you. “Why are you rushing off?”

“I have a shift today, and I have to go home and shower,” you said, grabbing some of your things. “Don’t worry about dropping me off. I’ll get a cab.”

“What? No, you-”

“You put money in my account, so it’s not like I have to worry about paying for it. And it’s not like I’ll be alone either since you’ll have me followed whether I want it or not,” you said as a matter of fact.

“You’re putting a wall up,” he said, frowning as you grabbed your phone charger before he could. “Don’t shut me out, please.”

“I’m not shutting you out. I’m trying to process the gigantic bombshell you dropped on me,” you said, stopping to look at him when he grabbed your arm. “Bucky-”

How many times would he say that until you agreed? “Just because you think fate stepped in-”

“Fate brought you into my club, but I gave it a much-needed push to bring us together after leaving things to chance for so long,” he said, tugging you closer and putting his other hand on your cheek. “You can’t tell me you don’t care about me in some capacity. You’re just afraid to admit it because it isn’t conventional in your eyes, but you don’t have to be afraid of how you feel.”

How could you truly fall in love with him when he orchestrated everything from the start? “Feelings or not you’re still going to force me to move in with you soon, and that scares me,” you said. Your wings would forever be clipped.

“We should’ve been living together and married by now,” he argued, keeping a tight hold on you. “I know I’m making you move in sooner than you want, but beyond safety it’ll give us a chance to really know each other before we get married.”

Talk of marriage had your heart thudding. The man would probably force you to marry him sooner than you wanted. “You said you already know everything about me,” you said. At least he thought he knew you. The vision of you he built up in his mind scared you, too. He couldn’t keep you on that pedestal.

“But you don’t fully know me yet, and I don’t know what it’s like to live with you. The experience will bring us closer together.” His smile was full of hope. “We can read together, do movie nights, dance in the kitchen.”

“Bucky-”

“We can exercise together, in and out of bed,” he continued, your breath hitching as he rubbed his nose against yours. “Don’t you already feel closer to me now that you know we're meant to be?”

A quick knock on the door followed by a long one saved you from answering. “It isn't check-out time, is it?”

“No. That would be Ray,” Bucky headed to the door and kept you back a small distance before he answered. The man really was protective, wasn't he?

“I’m sorry to intrude,” Ray said, giving you a polite nod before he leaned in and whispered something to Bucky. Whatever was said to him made his face harden. The entire change in his demeanor worried you.

“Kotyonok, let’s get your bag and get you back to your place so you can get ready for work,” he suggested, his smile tight.

“What’s the matter?” you asked.

“I’ll tell you later,” he answered, kissing your forehead. “And before we go, I know you suggested taking a cab, but please let Ray take you back to your place. It would make me feel better.”

The hint of a plea in his voice and the look in Ray’s eyes kept you from protesting. “Fine, Ray can take me home. Just give me a second to change out of these pajamas,” you said, a bit surprised that Bucky wasn’t offering to take you home himself. “But you are going to tell me later what’s going on, right?” you asked.

“I will, but I need some answers myself first. Get changed. I’ll get your bag,” he said, gently guiding you to the bathroom so you could change and officially ending that conversation.

Ray was still by the entry door once you came out, looking a bit stiffer than usual, too. You stole a glance at Bucky as the three of you headed to the elevator, catching the anger etched in his features as he gripped your bag handle tight enough that you thought it would rip. They were leaving you in the dark about something. You weren’t sure if you could take any other bombshells.

“Ray may need to pick you up from work instead of me, but I’ll message you if that’s the case,” Bucky said, fixing his hair in the elevator reflection. “And… we may need to talk about your girls’ day out.”

“What about it?” you asked, already knowing where he was going with this.

“If you can cancel or reschedule it,” he replied.

You stared hard at him. Where was that coming from? “No, it's tomorrow, and I’m not cancelling or rescheduling. And don’t you dare use Zemo as an excuse to get your way,” you snapped. Even if it was a valid reason, you didn’t want to hear it.

His jaw clenched, but he looked sad as he glanced at you. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“We talked about this. If it’s a safety issue, Ray agreed that someone could watch out for me. That should keep me safe,” you reminded him. You’d be fine. “Right, Ray?”

The blonde stared straight ahead. “That isn’t my decision,” he said apologetically.

Your shoulders slumped. For a short time, you thought he could be on your side or at least help give you some slack. “Right. Because you don't get to make decisions, and neither do I. You’re a bodyguard, I’m just a doll,” you said, looking straight ahead, too, and pulling your hand back when Bucky tried to take it. “Please, don’t.”

“Kotyonok…” Bucky sighed as the door opened. You marched out, not waiting for either of them. “Wait.”

You headed straight for the desk, feeling sadder when you didn’t see Natasha. “Checking out, please,” you said, sliding the room card over to the woman standing there.

“Of course. I hope you enjoyed your stay.” She looked behind you likely at Bucky before giving you a smile. “Ms. Romanoff also wanted to remind you that you have a place here if you need one.”

“I’m sure I’ll take her up on that soon,” you said, turning your head to glare at Bucky. While his expression was stoic, his eyes told you he didn’t want you to be upset with him. “And make sure she adds an inconvenience fee to the damaged wall bill. She’ll know what I mean.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” she smiled. “Take care.”

Bucky was hot on your heel and you didn't make it two steps out the door before he had a hand on you. “You’re upset with me. Putting up more of that wall.”

You didn't speak until Ray walked past you to get his car. “You’re trying to get me to cancel my day out with my friends, after you went through the whole charade of buying me a new dress for it and everything. And after what you told me about your mom.” You took a breath to try to calm down. “Yeah, I’m upset, and yeah, you’re supplying me with the very bricks to build that wall.”

“I said we may need to talk about it, I didn’t flat out say you weren’t going,” he corrected you. He might as well have. “I know it means a lot to you, but-”

You held a hand up. “No. There are no ‘buts’ in this. For all you keep taking from me, I don’t ask for much. I really don't,” you stated. In fact, you’ve shown lots of restraint. “Who knows how many moments I’ll get like this with my friends once you move me in.” He wasn’t about to take this small thing from you after everything.

He titled his head. “You think I’ll keep you from them?”

“Part of me thinks you will, yes. Because as soon as I think that there’s hope, the second I think that we could be closer together while you loosen the reins, you say or do something that puts me back in your full control,” you said. He had to see that. “And every time you do that, like you are right now, it makes me want to push you away.”

“And you can push all you want, but I’ll just pull you closer,” he smiled, making you huff when he actually did so. “I’m not afraid to let you burn me.”

“You keep saying that. Give me a match or a lighter and we’ll test that theory,” you said. He burst out laughing, the sound loud in the morning air as your eyes widened. “Why are you laughing?” you asked incredulously. How could he laugh when you were still worked up?

“Because even arguing with you makes me happy,” he sincerely stated. “And now all I want to do is find a way to put a smile back on your face.”

You exhaled. He was so in love with the idea of a relationship with you that arguments appealed to him? Anyone else would've walked away by now.

“You’re infuriating,” you whispered when he touched the corner of your mouth and made it twitch in a small smile. “Impossible.”

“I know,” he whispered back, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, you’re tired and you’re overwhelmed, which is completely my fault. Am I right?”

“Yes,” you sighed. He hit it right on the nose.

“And maybe I was rash in suggesting that you cancel your plans, but I need to take care of a couple things before we discuss that more,” he said, leading you to Ray's car before you could protest. “You just have a good shift, okay?”

He was placating you now, and it was sadly working. “Fine,” you said, touching his hand, the metal one. “I don’t think I said so earlier, but thank you for finally telling me the truth,” you said, calmer than you were moments before. He should've told you from the start, but it couldn't have been easy reopening old wounds regarding his dad.

His gaze softened. “Thank you for letting me.”

“And whatever Ray told you or whatever’s going on, just breathe, okay?” you begged.

He took a deep breath. “I’ll just think of you and it’ll help,” he said, adding in a low voice as he pulled you against him. “And this.”

By the time Bucky stopped kissing you and helped you into the car, you didn’t want to look either of them in the eye.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing your temple and shutting the door as your heart flip flopped. God, he was insufferable. Confusing. Obsessed.

“You're certainly keeping him on his toes,” Ray said, not driving off until he made sure Bucky was in his vehicle, too.

“Someone has to,” you said, staring out the window. “I’m going with my friends tomorrow. I don't care if he makes you drag me back,” you said. Unless your life was in some sort of immediate danger, there was no reason for you to skip out on meeting up with the girls.

“So you’re aware, the suggestion of you moving your day out has nothing to do with wanting to control you. He’s upset because of the news I delivered and he wants to keep you close,” Ray explained, making you feel a little bad.

“So, that news was the reason why you both changed your tune, and you can't tell me what that news is,” you guessed. If you were in some sort of danger though, surely Bucky would’ve said so. “He told me about his mom. How I saved her.”

Silence filled the vehicle. “So, you know the truth,” he said after a minute, his voice neutral. “Are you okay?”

“I’m trying to be,” you answered carefully. You really were.

“That’s all you can do,” he said before adding under his breath, “No good deed goes unpunished.”

You snorted. “I guess I'm living breathing proof of that.” It was ironic how an act of kindness put you on this path. “And as much as I don't like to wish pain upon people, I hope Bucky's dad got whatever he deserved.”

Winnie, from the short time you knew her, was nothing but wonderful. Bucky said the dahlia painting in his office served as a reminder that he would never do to you what his dad did to his mom. He would never set you up to take the fall for anyone else, wouldn’t let someone else hurt you if he could help it. He would forever stand by you.

Was pushing him away doing you any good?

“He did,” Ray promised you. “And I say with complete sincerity that I hope today is very uneventful for you after the time you've had.”

Your nose scrunched as you laughed. “So do I, Ray. So do I.”

Ray was kind enough to wait outside of your place as you showered and got ready for work, and didn't push you to talk more before he dropped you off at the shop. He was even kind enough to stop so you could get another cup of coffee. It helped improve your mood.

“There she is!” Kate smiled when you walked in. “Little miss not-so-single anymore.”

“Hey,” you giggled before you paused. “I didn't know you were working today. Did you switch shifts with someone?”

“God, the schedule’s all messed up. Mrs. Crandle called out for some business thing-”

“Business thing?” you asked, your brows pinched. She hardly ever took time off for things like vacation let alone a business thing without informing her staff.

“Yeah, I’m not really sure about all the details, but Lorraine ended up switching the whole schedule around. Mya’s coming in later, and I had to come in early, and your shift’s ending early.”

“What?” you frowned, checking the schedule to make sure. She was right. Your shift today was almost cut in half. “Would’ve been nice to get a text or something.”

The assistant manager wasn't bad to work with, but she could be a little forgetful with things like that. If Bucky hadn't just put money in your account, you may have been more upset over having half a shift cut. After the night and morning you had though, maybe an afternoon off wouldn't be so bad.

“She probably forgot since you were coming in at your normal time. Who knows?” Kate shrugged. “You know, I half expected Clark to be here waiting for you. Seemed really eager to see you yesterday.”

“Yeah, about that.” You looked toward the door, your body tense in anticipation even though he wasn't there. “Why did you tell him I was working today?”

“He’s kind of a regular, and I didn't really think about it. Then Mrs. Crandle brought up your boyfriend and…” Her face fell as she stopped cutting stems, which made you feel bad when she glanced your way. “Crap, I did something wrong, didn't I?”

You weren’t about to go into specifics regarding your personal situation. “I just don’t want customers to know when my shifts are unless I’m specifically working on an order or event for them, okay?” you said, hoping she understood that it was a general request.

Bucky was not getting in your head about your safety.

“Okay, as long as you aren’t mad,” she said. You gave her a smile to assure her that you were okay. “So, tell me about your new boyfriend.”

You filled her in as much as you could to make it sound believable, just like you had with Addison. Like her and Mrs. Crandle, Kate was excited for you. And they would never know the full truth.

As your shift went on, you were surprised you hadn't heard much from Bucky. It was for the best though. He was clearly dealing with something. As much as you didn't want to defend him in your mind, it had taken a lot for him to talk about his parents. To show you some of the damage done to his body. It was a vulnerable moment. Did you owe it to him to be vulnerable, too?

Wait, why did you owe him anything?

“Heading out?” Kate asked once your shift was up.

“Yeah,” you replied, glancing at your phone. You wondered if you should text Bucky before you decided against it. You'd let him know once you got to your place that you wouldn't need a ride. “Just call me if you need me to come back in.”

“Don’t worry about that. Enjoy the rest of your day!” she smiled.

Satisfied when you didn't see Bucky or Ray’s car waiting for you either, you decided to take a walk. It was a nice day, and you needed the fresh air. You hoped the weather was nice for the winery. You’d have to take photos to look back on what was going to be a fun time.

“Hey!” you heard someone shout after a few minutes of walking.

You stopped when you spotted Clark waving at you from the other side of the street. You barely waved back before he joined you. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood,” he smiled, pushing his glasses up. “You done working already?”

“Yep,” you said, adjusting your bag. “And I should really-”

“Could we talk for a minute?” he asked.

You hesitated before nodding. “Sure,” you said, falling in step beside him.

“You know, I actually went to the shop to buy you flowers yesterday. I was going to buy you some roses,” he smiled.

Oh, God. “You were?”

“Yeah, but you weren’t there and… It doesn’t matter,” he smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But I was thinking… Maybe we could grab a coffee sometime? My treat.”

The hopeful look in his eyes made a pit form in your stomach. “Clark, I’m seeing someone,” you said, his blue eyes dimming. Hadn’t Kate said that Mrs. Crandle brought up that you were in a relationship? “It’s fairly new, and I don’t want to mess things up,” you explained, though he wasn’t owed an explanation.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” he mumbled, kicking a small rock on the sidewalk. “Well, if it’s fairly new, I'm sure you can get coffee with other people.”

“Get coffee with people? Yes. But this kind of sounds like a date, and I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m sorry,” you said. That would feel like cheating even if you didn't consider it a date, and you weren't that kind of person.

“Then we won’t call it a date,” he grinned.

Maybe you were feeling paranoid, but there was something weird behind his smile. “You just got out of a relationship, and I don’t want to send mixed signals by agreeing to go with you.”

His smile shook a bit. “It's just a coffee.”

“Is it?” The longer he stared, the more odd things felt, and you didn’t like it. “Listen, when you find someone else to give flowers to I’d be happy to pick some out for you.”

“I don't understand.” He laughed, but it sounded bitter. “You’ve always been nice to me.”

“Well, yeah. You’ve always been kind, too, when you come into the shop.”

“Too nice for someone like Bucky Barnes,” he muttered, his smile disappearing completely.

You gaped at him, almost faltering in your step. “What did you just say?”

“I said you’re too nice for someone like Bucky Barnes,” he said louder, his ire clear as day. “You think I don’t know about his reputation? He’s dangerous, and you’re too good for him.”

“How do you know I’m dating him?” you asked. And what did he know about his reputation?

He was quiet for a moment. “Mrs. Crandle said his name, and she has no idea what kind of man he is,” he said, making you feel uneasy. “I don’t think you do either.”

Oh, you knew plenty. “I appreciate your concern, really, but it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Well, I do. And I just don’t see why we can’t have one cup of coffee together,” he said, flashing a smile again. “It’ll be fun.”

“Because you know I’m seeing someone,” you said. He knew it before he bumped into you, but was still pushing for you to go with him. “And I also kind of make it a rule not to date customers,” you added, stopping when you got to your building. You walked faster than you thought.

“Well, rules should have exceptions, right? And if Bucky cared so much, where is he? Why wasn’t he waiting to pick you up and take you home?” he pressed, his eyes narrowing when you dug into your purse. “Maybe he doesn’t care about you as much as you think.”

Your next breath came out shaky. He hadn’t raised his voice at you, but you didn’t appreciate the third degree, or the implication that Bucky didn’t care. “Because he’s a busy man who sometimes works both days and nights. I don’t expect him to drop everything just to take me home.”

“If you took a chance on me, you’d never have to worry about things like that.”

You were starting to feel nauseous. “Well, sometimes I like the quiet after the bustle of the shop, so walking helps me decompress. And I can't take a chance on you when I’m seeing someone else.” Why was he being so pushy?

He took a small step closer. “You know, it’s dangerous to walk home alone.”

You took a step back, your keys between your fingers. “You’re right about that,” you agreed. The only reason you did so today was to take back a little control, which didn’t seem so smart now.

“I can start walking you home if you want,” he smiled, towering over you. Was he always so imposing? “When’s your next shift?”

You managed a smile in return, but it was extremely forced. “Clark, that’s really not necessary, but thank you for the offer. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

He gently took your arm when you turned toward the door, worry crawling up your spine when his hand tightened a fraction. You suddenly wish you had Bucky or Ray around. “I really don’t mind.”

“My boyfriend will mind, and I’m sure you can understand that. So it’s a no on the coffee and the walks home,” you said gently but firmly, pulling your arm back and rubbing the spot where Clark grabbed you. He wasn’t listening. It somehow felt worse than Bucky and you couldn’t pinpoint why. Was it because Clark tried to act nice? “It’s been a long few days, and I’m going to get some rest. Have a nice day, okay?”

His eyes narrowed again, but it was his chilling smile that unnerved you. “I’m sure I'll see you again soon. We’ll have to get that coffee,” he said, walking off before you could say another word.

You rushed into the building once he was out of sight, your hands shaking. It may have been from the confrontation or the combination of everything. Maybe Clark was just lonely and latched on a bit because you were nice. Hadn't Bucky done something similar?

But if Clark wanted to see you, why hadn't he just gone into the shop if he knew you were working?

Double checking your locks once you were in your apartment, you took a breath and stared at your phone once you sat down. You had to talk to Bucky. He answered within a few seconds of you calling.

“Kotyonok, is everything okay?” he asked, sounding both happy and concerned to hear from you.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” you asked, hearing a few other men speaking in the background.

“Because you’re calling me and not texting. And you sound a little off. What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s fine,” you lied. How did he recognize that you felt off? “I just wanted you to know that the assistant manager changed my shift, so I went home early.”

“Wait, you’re already home?” he asked. The background noise suddenly stopped. “Did you get a cab? Please tell me you didn’t walk back to your place.”

“…Fine, I won’t tell you that.”

Bucky let out an impressive string of curse words as you pulled the phone away from your ear. “That’s not safe. You know it isn’t,” he hissed, but you knew he wasn’t actually angry with you. Just the situation. And bumping into Clark today and Zemo the day before, he had a bit of a point. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Because I said it may not be a good idea to go out with your friends.”

You closed your eyes. He was not going to make you feel bad. “I just needed a breather, okay? And I made it home just fine.”

“But did you? How do I know someone didn’t follow you?” he asked. Clark’s face flashed in your mind when you stayed quiet. “…Kotyonok, did someone follow you?”

“No one followed me that I know of,” you said. You really didn't have any idea. “But… I did bump into Clark. He was in the neighborhood.”

“Clark? That guy from the shop who tried to give you flowers just happened to be in your neighborhood when I wasn't around?” he asked, fury seeping into his tone as you winced.

“I… I’m sure it was a coincidence,” you said. Placating him in this wasn’t going to work, but you had to try.

“That isn’t a fucking coincidence and we both know it. Did he say anything? Try anything?”

You shut your eyes. It would be like ripping off a band-aid. “He asked me to go get a cup of coffee with him, but I told him I was seeing someone.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “He asked you out?” he asked, making you shift in your seat. “Why the fuck do I not have a file on him yet?!” he snapped at someone in the background.

“I’m working on it, boss!” you heard someone promise. “Should I call-”

“No. I’ll call him myself,” Bucky growled.

Who was he talking about? “Bucky, it’s okay. The guy asked me out and I said no,” you assured him. You weren't going to go out with Clark. “I’m sure women throw themselves at you every day and you turn them down.”

“They don't ‘bump’ into me in my neighborhood. And had you told me you were leaving early, I could’ve made sure this guy didn’t go anywhere near you. I don’t even want him near your shop until I know more about him,” he said, his anger not lessening. “If he tries anything, I will tear him apart piece by fucking piece,” he promised you, the intensity in his tone making your throat go dry.

“That isn’t necessary,” you whispered.

He sighed. “Why would you deliberately put yourself in a spot like this just to prove a point? Be pissed at me, I can take that, but do not risk your safety,” he said, adding in a quieter voice, “I couldn’t take it if something happened to you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, hating how guilty you felt, how worried he sounded on your behalf. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to worry you,” you said. It was stubborn and dumb on your part, and now you were afraid that Bucky really would try to cancel your day out tomorrow. You couldn’t let him. “I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“Make it up to me?” he asked. That seemed to get his attention. “How are you going to do that?”

“I’ll…” you began, steadying yourself. Natasha said you had power, and maybe you’d have to test that sooner than you expected. “Stay at your place tonight.”

You could hear a pin drop from the quiet. “You’ll stay the night?” he asked, his voice moving like lava through your veins.

“Yes,” you whispered, hammering the nail in the coffin.

“Give me two hours and I'll come get you,” he said, his voice strained, eager. “Be ready.”

“I will be.”

God, you hoped you knew what you were doing.

Oh, Clark. He's a problem now, isn't he? What do we think Ray told Bucky? And what's going to happen when you spend the night? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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knnichs · 3 days ago

Text

STEM MEETS HUMSS

your teachers have planned a collaboration between the three strands for the christmas event on the 18th. you've gotten quite close with a certain top student in stem–and it seems that you have caught his attention too.

c. tighnari x gn!reader

t. strangers to friends, no romance YET, reader has a crush on tighnari, filipino school culture, cursing, innacurate depictions of senior highschool, not proofread we die like ... like .. sweats um. wc: 3.1k

taglist. @pneumosia @gladiolus-nyx @snobwaffles thanks for brainrotting abt this with me chat && @thestarswhisper @tragedy-of-commons @azuresaqua @writingandmusing @usagiarchives @hanniejji -> join the taglist here!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KING!!! author notes at the end, as always :D

“And as for the letter delivery event,” Albedo opens a file on his laptop to present on the tv screen–the draft proposal of your class for this holiday. “How do you plan to do that?”

You doodle mindlessly on your paper, faking the scribbles made from the ballpoint pen as ‘taking notes.’ Honestly, if the senior high faculty didn’t decide on making a semester end project, you wouldn’t even have to stress about this. At least it was a collaboration between subjects so it meant there was less work to do, although you do have to worry about the different rubrics.

You sigh, quite deeply at that.

“It’s actually pretty self explanatory. They order through an online form, write a letter and choose a bundle of gifts, and we deliver it to the recipient. Whether the sender wants it to be an anonymous thing is up to them,” Navia, your section's representative, answers. The bell rings right on time, cutting Albedo off right before he was about to say something.

It was already 4:30, you’d have to commute back home so–you’ll be back by what, 5:30? Considering the rush hour too… Oh god, absolutely nothing could make you like the rush hour. The train is always packed, the buses feel like you’re sardines packed in a can–a very hot, sweaty, and humid can, and you’ll be stuck with the bass of the music just blasting in your ear every few seconds.

“Okay, before you all leave–ensure that each strand representative assigns you all a role. As for Stem, everything is already.. well, almost, set.” Albedo starts packing up his things, unplugging his laptop and taking his pen. “I still have to assign someone to lead the graphics later, but Kinich will handle the research team, please note that down.”

“Is this only for our donation drive, or for… everything?” Kinich asks, crossing his arms.

“Only for our donation drive and for the actual seminar itself before the party. Ah, well actually–you reminded me of something.” The blonde nods, gesturing for Navia and Chiori to come forward to the table. You groan, slumping down on your desk–face all squashed up on the wood. You check your watch; 4:35, when will this end? “Okay, this is the last one, I swear.” Navia smiles. “Then you can all go home, it’s quick, I promise you.”

“There are two different things we will work on: The first would be each strand’s event–like the donation drive, the delivery service, and the raffle. The second would be the seminar itself, this is the one we will all work together on.” She continues, “We agreed on having Humss and Stem lead the presentation itself. ABM will host the program, is everyone okay with that?”

“That’s it, you’re free to leave.” Chiori nods, “Turn off the lights and the AC. Thank you, everyone, and goodluck.”

This is going to be a hellish three weeks.

A part of you silently hoped that Navia would assign you to the presentation. Not only is research something you despise, it strains your eyes to stay glued to a monitor for 20 hours. Well, you’ll still technically be doing the same thing if you’re editing the presentation–but that’s besides the point. Graphics means less thinking, more doing (and going on pinterest to ‘look for inspiration’) (which is also short for doom scrolling)

Your phone flashes on, a notification snapping you out of your silent prayer. Navia had messaged your group chat accompanied with quite a long series of mentions. Yes, she tagged you almost 20 times already, and she’s still going.

4:59 PM | YOU : ??????? yes?? Navia : DO U REMEMBER THAT HALLWAY CRUSH U KEPT TALKING ABOUT

Ah yes, your infamous hallway crush. The one your friends had labelled as boy number 10 with how much you fell in love with the most random group of people. You knew three things max about him. One, he helped you fix up the classroom when you were assigned as the class cleaner along with three other people. Said three ditched you and went home early, you were lucky enough to still be there even a few minutes after because if it weren't for that–you probably would have never met this guy at all. He helped you clean up the random bits of paper on the floor, and your dumbass forgot to ask for his name. Two, a few days later you see him go inside the stem classroom. You were too shy to actually ask for his name–even if you did have a few acquaintances in their class, you’re scared that news might reach him and that he would start avoiding you. And finally…

– HUMSS, except we’re the patient

5:00 PM | Navia : IM LITERALLY ASSIGNING YOU TO THE GRAPHICS TEAM RN. HES LEADING THE PRESENTATION Mualani : girl u didnt even mention his name yet Navia : wait dont they know already ???? YOU : NO? 5:01 PM | Mualani : OH BOY. his name is tighnari btw one of the top students in stem Mualani : u hit jackpot with this or something cause like. WOW. top student thats insane Mualani : wonder how hes going to deal with your stupid ahh 😭 YOU : this is literally slander. not you speaking as if you didnt get a 5/25 on the math test earlier YOU : also, the block button looks so good rn 5:02 PM | Mualani : WHAT Mualani : DONT YOU DARE Mualani : YOU MEAN TO SAY THE TIME WE SPENT TOGETHER MEANT NOTHING TO YOU???? Navia : WAIT SHUT UP IM ADDING U TO THE GC

You shortly get added to an almost 20 person group chat titled PRESENTATION, no creativity whatsoever, you grade the originality a 2 out of 5. Only one text has been sent – and Navia was not lying when she said your hallway crush was leading the graphics team. After a bit of research (visiting his profile,) you come to realize that yeah, she was right, and you are doomed.

– HUMSS, EXCEPT WE’RE THE PATIENT

5:05 PM | Navia : trust me when i say that i got your back on this Navia : navia for best wingman when YOU : ill literally do your reviewer for the exams if u help set me up YOU : arent you close with albedo PLEASE TELL HIM TO DO SOMETHING YOU : without mentioning my name. ofc 5:06 PM | Navia : 👍 Navia : LIKE I SAID, I GOT UR BACK YOU : ILY

Two weeks have passed since the original planning for the event. Your plate has been so full you didn’t even realize there have been an additional three new projects you need to work on–and they were all due next week. Thanks to the absolutely soul crushing curriculum your school decided to follow, you are now going to school at 6 a.m, going home at 5 p.m (if you’re lucky enough,) and have even more things to worry about at home. You don’t even get to sleep until 12.

“Is this a sign to drop out?” You grumble, laying your head down on the desk.

“If you are–I am definitely joining you.” Mualani draped her jacket over your shoulders, giving you a pat on the back as a way to comfort you. “How’re things with you and guy number 10?”

Oh, right. You haven’t mustered up any courage at all to start talking with him. Everytime you get the chance to approach him, you cowardly run away internally screaming you weren’t ready for commitment just yet. You were just going to talk to him–not start a relationship immediately!

“I mean, it’s… nothing special happened. I haven’t gotten to talk to him.” Brushing off some of the hair that was on your face, you look at Mualani’s grim expression. She faked a sniffle–kneeling on the ground on some dramatic act. Reaching a hand out to the board and her left arm on her heart.

“Oh, gods! You’re going to die alone at this rate!” The girl cries out, and you cringe at her–she stands straight up again, brushing off some of the dirt that got on her skirt. “On a serious note though, when do you plan on actually trying to befriend him? This is your chance, just take it.”

“It’s not like my life depends on this situation. It’s just a crush, it’ll pass.”

“Woow–” Mualani drags off, quite sarcastically. “Look at you all grown up! Did your frontal lobe develop overnight or something?”

“Shut up!”

A blank canva screen is all you’re greeted with once you got home. Nothing has really popped in your head–no amount of doom scrolling on pinterest was able to help your… predicament. You technically volunteered for this–the presentation. You’ve thought about tugging your hair off your head out of frustration again, but you already did that earlier the first time you opened the canva file. How you wish it could just put the elements on the screen by itself already, you’re too exhausted to really deal with this.

Your phone buzzes as it lights up, a notification on the graphics team pops up on your homescreen, and you click on it to open the group chat.

– PRESENTATION

6:14 PM | Tighnari : Good evening! We will have a meeting at 6:30 PM. It’ll last around an hour or so, it’ll be a quick discussion with everyone so we can all settle on a common theme for the flow of events. Tighnari : [google meet link] Tighnari : If you cannot attend, react to this message so I can relay what happened here.

About 10 people reacted with a sobbing emoji. You debated if you even wanted to join yourself, but you eventually just set your phone back down and opened the link, waiting for it to open.

“Oh, you’re quite early.” A voice comes out of your laptop's speakers. You almost jump out of your seat, hovering your mouse to the tab of the meeting only to realize it was boy number 10 talking to you. “We’re starting in like, 10 minutes from now. Did you have a question?”

Wow, the timing. What a coincidence.

You turn your mic on, “No, I just joined so I wouldn’t be late.”

“I see.”

Mualani’s words from earlier echoed in your head. She’s right, this project is an excuse for you to get the chance to talk to him. This is bad. You can’t think of anything to continue the conversation–

“You’re the one who was left behind in the classroom, right?”

“What?”

Someone dig a hole and bury you in it now. He remembers? You remember you were close to tears that time! That might just be the most humiliating thing you’ve ever experienced and you were upset over everything that day–you were late to class because you woke up quite late, your food was already burning while you ironed your clothes, you ended up burning a part of your uniform because you didn’t get rid of the plug, you left your lunch on the table because you were in a rush–it was truly the most hectic day you’ve ever experienced.

“I mean–yeah, the cleaners thing? Thanks for… helping me out, by the way.” You replied.

He hummed, a hint of amusement in his voice. Does he find this funny?

“I can only guess that you weren’t having the best day. I just had some extra time and noticed your classmates had left you behind, it’s no problem.”

You fall silent, unsure of how to continue this.

“I forgot to ask for your name,” wait, that just sounds odd. “for the–uh, presentation. Since we’re working together, right?” you mumbled.

“Tighnari, what about you?”

“[Name].”

“I’ll keep that in mind, then. Since we’re working together.” He chuckled. It didn’t take too long until a few other people started joining the meeting.

It was already way past midnight and you were still working on the stupid presentation. It didn’t help that you felt like you were really the only one working on this–save for Navia. Mualani hasn’t touched the file at least once and only really gave criticism on the placement of the random elements. There’s really no way you can actually drink alcohol, so you choose to drown your sorrows away with yet another cup of coffee, and the damned presentation.

You go on the last blank slide with a dark blue color for the background and some random low quality star in hopes to make it the least bit interesting. You click on the text button and start typing away, wondering what setting you clicked on to mess up the arrangements and text positioning that you had already fixed. Shortly realizing it was in fact–not a setting, but another person in the presentation.

So you get a new block of text and type out: “can u like, not mess this up. im tired, thx”

The green cursor would stay still for a few seconds before disappearing and coming out with another block of text: “its ugly. im fixing it”

What a response. You glance at the top right of your screen and recognize the profile picture–Tighnari, who knew you’d be such a bitch?

You’re too tired to deal with this. It was already 3 a.m, you’ve had your fourth cup of coffee, and you’d rather jump than have to deal with any kind of attitude. You still have to get up at 6 tomorrow–no, later. You’d have a total of THREE hours of sleep! That’s a new record.

You delete all the previous text you had and start ranting on your side of the slide.

“who asked. like literally”

“well im just fixing it. unlike you, i dont want to present something like…” The text pauses, the line blinks for a few seconds and continues. “...something as creative as this, on the actual seminar”

“who do u think u are anyway??? thags quiet rude.”

“thats* and quite.* seems like you should get your rest for the day, its 3 anyway. ill take over, no worries.”

Oh, the nerve of this guy! First he comes stomping into your part of the presentation–you’ve already done everything in your style, it’ll be weird if the design somehow clashes midway the seminar just because this entitled guy decided to “fix” things.

“clearly this is MY slide. why are u here anyway”

“my name is on the left side and the data *you* are typing is my part of the research. technically, this is my slide.”

“smartass”

“thags quiet rude.”

That’s it. You’ve had enough. It’s too early to be worrying over this anyway, so you delete your past message and the whole slide entirely.

“fine then. u do it. im going to bed.”

On the other side of the screen, Tighnari smiles.

“You look like your soul just got sucked out of ‘ya.”

“Navia, please, I am way too tired for this.” You raise your hand as you bury yourself deeper into your arm. The past week of you staying up is certainly catching up to you now, and you have to deal with the consequences..

“You couldn’t even focus during comm-arts. I’m actually quite glad Mr. Zhongli is understanding–he let you sleep the whole period.” She replies, looking at Mualani.

“I am so done with this presentation thing. When will it end?” You sigh, facing your friends.

Navia only smiles softly amidst your suffering. “Don’t worry, it’s tomorrow.”

“Wait, are you being serious?”

She nods, looking at the board and reading the date out loud– “It’s the seventeenth, so, yeah. Tomorrow. Eighteen.”

“...Is something wrong?” Mualani asks, crossing her arms.

“I mean, Tighnari and I have talked for a total of two times the entire time we were doing the project.” Dragging your fingers down your face, “In one of them, I quite literally called him a smartass.”

“That’s rough,” Navia murmurs.

A voice calls for Navia and she eventually bids goodbye to the two of you. The realization just dawns on you–you’ve wasted all your chances of getting to know boy number 10–sorry, Tighnari, better. Now you’re going to go into the new year knowing that you fumbled quite badly.

“You know what they say,” Mualani pats a hand on your shoulder. “There are plenty of fish in the sea. Knowing you, you’ll jump back from this no problem.”

“Yeah, well, right now there is only one fish and he’s probably trying his best to run away from me.”

She giggles at your comment, “You’ll be okay. Don’t cry over a boy, it’s just not worth it.”

You nod, thankful for the two most supportive friends you have. Mualani, too, gets ready to leave the school already. The bell rang a few minutes ago and you decided to spend time mulling over the decisions you made that led you to your situation right now.

Sitting in the empty, cold classroom with earphones on playing a Silent Sanctuary song–how many times have you seen this kind of scene happen in those cliche love movies?

Sige na please, wag na’ng mainis, bumalik ka na sa’akin.

Come on–please, don’t be annoyed, come back to me.

Your music briefly lowers its volume as you hear a ping come from your phone. You glance at the contact–an unknown number. Who could be so entitled as to ruin your weekly “drown in your thoughts?”

Only one person, apparently.

You were shocked to realize it was indeed not a notification about your parcel being delivered (since you went online to buy something to cure your “sadness” over this technically-a-rejection,) but a message from someone.

4:31 PM | Unknown Contact : “I feel bad about what happened yesterday, I didn’t mean to give you an attitude that late at night. Do you wanna go to a cafe tomorrow, after classes?” Unknown Contact : “This is Tighnari, by the way. Save it.”

You open the chat quickly, typing a response.

4:32 PM | YOU : “Who gave you my number?” Tighnari : “Your friend did, I’ve already thanked her.” Tighnari : “So… Do you want to go? If you want to invite your friends, that's fine too.” Tighnari : “You seem like a nice person and I want to get to know you” Tighnari : “If you’ll let me.”

@ knnichs 2023 ﹑ do not repost, republish, translate, feed to ai or modify any of my works. doing so can and will result into me blocking you.

chat will u believe me if i said i crammed writing this . its probably really obvious i didnt think about the plot too much ALSO there might be a part 2 to this . because i barely scratched the surface me thinks NYWAY im going to go sleep im too tired

#—stellaronhvnters.#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin x reader fluff #genshin fluff #tighnari #tighnari fluff #tighnari x reader #tighnari x reader fluff #tighnari x gn!reader #tighnari x gn!reader fluff #tighnari au #genshin filo au #genshin filipino au #genshin filo fluff

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defectivevillain · 19 hours ago

Text

chatterbox

pairing: Deadpool/Reader

reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary: You get threatened at gunpoint, meet a vigilante clad in red spandex, and get a concussion all in the same day. At this point, it seems like the universe is spiting you.

word count: 1.7k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical violence, robbery, murder, etc; hospitals, suggestive remarks

You’re having a relatively uneventful day… until you find yourself being held at gunpoint in the nearby convenience store. You’re nothing more than an innocent bystander—you just wanted to buy some snacks before you left. It appears the universe had other plans for you, though. The robber—a guy dressed in all-black—yanks you towards him by the collar and holds a gun to your head, demanding the cashier hand him all the money in the register. For a moment, you’re terrified that they won’t give it to him. Then they snap out of it and shakily hand him the money.

Somehow, that’s not enough for the intruder—as he proceeds to slam your head against the counter in frustration. You immediately feel a jarring pain searing through your temple and traveling down your face. Suddenly bolstered with a renewed fear for your life, you manage to stun him with a harsh elbow to the gut and escape his grip. Head spinning and heart racing, you run away from the register and duck down one of the aisles, frantically looking around for something that could help you survive this encounter. Unfortunately, the gas station is painfully small and the robber catches you quickly. You’re scrambling backwards through hazy vision as the guy points his gun at you… And you come to the unfortunate conclusion that this is it. You’re going to die here, in the candy aisle of this cramped and grimy store.

It happens in a blur. There’s suddenly a katana impaled through the robber’s chest, making him drop his gun and fall to the floor as he gurgles in pain. The newcomer is wearing red and black spandex, with numerous weapons scattered across their form. Somehow, you’re on the ground now—your back to the wall as you stare at your savior in disbelief.

“Are you okay?” He asks, sounding concerned. You stare at the man in shock, still struggling to process everything that just happened. You think the robber’s blood may be splattered across your face. And despite this new guy’s seemingly kind demeanor, you can’t bring yourself to trust him. Your adrenaline is still pumping, leaving you breathing hard and staring at him warily. “I know this is probably a lot, getting saved by a sexy vigilante and all.” You’re entirely unable to comprehend what he’s saying, through the ringing in your ears and throbbing in your temple.

“Do you normally talk?” He continues, tilting his head curiously. “You need a throat lozenge? Just cough a few times, get the frogs out of your throat. Or maybe some water? Don’t sweat it, even I get shell-shocked sometimes. You should’ve seen me when I came across-”

“You talk a lot.” You interject before you can stop yourself. This guy’s constant rambling isn’t helping your growing headache. Not to mention, he’s speaking so fast that it’s impossible to comprehend what he’s saying.

“Oh, so you can talk!” The man exclaims. “And wow, rude. I guess that means you’re fine, then.” He huffs, actually seeming a bit offended. You immediately feel guilty for the remark; you’re about to apologize when another bolt of pain runs through your forehead and down your cheekbone, breaking you from your thoughts.

You wince and bring a hand to your aching head, frowning as you find blood splattered across your skin. “Need a hand?” The masked guy asks. You take his hand and allow him to pull you to your feet, surprised at how easy the feat seems to be for him. “Easy does it.” He warns, evidently noticing your unsteady footing. Your vision spins tauntingly around you as the walls of the store twist and morph in unnatural patterns. Something doesn’t feel right. You blink and suddenly your knees are crumpling under you. The last thing you see before your vision fades to black is a crimson blur.

You wake to find yourself surrounded by nondescript beige walls. There’s something digging into your arm and you frown, reaching out in an attempt to remove it. You’re stopped by a nurse, who introduces themself and explains the situation. You’ve been unconscious for several hours now, on account of everything you experienced at the convenience store. You don’t have any serious injuries, aside from a concussion.

As for the man who saved you… his identity remains a complete mystery. You attempt to ask the nursing staff, but they all seem to be just as confused as you are. They claim that the paramedics who arrived on the scene didn’t see anyone who matched his description: red and black suit, katanas… Safe to say, they think your head wound conjured up some mystery hero who saved you. But you know what—or more accurately, who—you saw. After all, your imagination isn’t that inventive or creative. You can vividly remember the gruesome sight of the katana piercing through the robber’s chest; and the rapid-fire sarcasm of the man who wielded it.

As if summoned by your thoughts alone, you hear a familiar surprised voice. “You’re awake.”

“Jesus!” You instinctively hiss, your chest lurching as you look around the empty room. The heart monitor at your side is beeping like crazy. You have to squint in the dim lighting; then you catch a glimpse of a familiar crimson suit and your panic begins to subside. It’s the guy who saved you—he’s crouching in the window. Isn’t this room pretty high up? You frown.

“Nope, just me,” he responds cheekily.

“I don’t even know who you are,” is somehow the first thing that falls from your lips. Perhaps you should’ve asked why he’s here… or how he got here.

“I’m Deadpool, obviously,” he answers, breaking you from your thoughts. “Remember? The convenience store? I saved your ass; then you fainted into my arms. It was pretty embarrassing for you, but it made me look badass. So… thanks, I guess.”

“…What are you doing here?” You decide to ask, your voice slightly raspy. You cough a few times; in the blink of an eye, the guy is standing at your bedside and handing you a glass of water. You thank him and take a few sips, before he places it back on the nightstand.

“Making sure you don’t snitch,” he says sincerely. “Snitches get stitches and end up in ditches. We clear?” You’re staring at him in disbelief, struggling to process everything that’s happening. The guy speaks almost inhumanly fast and it’s hard to keep up.

“I won’t say anything.” It takes you a few moments to utter the words, your tongue feeling strangely thick in your mouth. The guy—Deadpool—looks relieved, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

“Good.” He huffs, crossing his arms.

“Also, I’m sorry,” you say. The vigilante stares at you in evident confusion. You’ve given up on trying to rationalize what’s happening, or the words that are coming out of your mouth. Blame it on the concussion. “For earlier.” You supplement. He had been kind enough to save you and inquire about your wellbeing… and you returned that kindness with an insult, and then promptly fainted in his arms. Embarrassing.

“No prob.” He brushes you off. “I’m annoying, I get it. Not the first time it’s happened, won’t be the last.” And maybe you’re imagining things, but you swear you can hear the slightest hint of vulnerability in his voice.

“You’re not annoying,” you reassure him. “You saved my life. I just couldn’t really process anything you were saying.”

“Oh.” He remarks. You can’t discern his facial expression through his mask, but he sounds a bit surprised. “Oh! Okay then.”

A very awkward silence suffocates the room. “Thank you.” You hear yourself say. Because despite the absurdity of the situation and the man standing in front of you, you are truly grateful. “For… you know.” You struggle to say the words.

Deadpool seems to understand regardless. “Don’t mention it,” he says easily. Then his tone turns more sincere. “Seriously, don’t.” He looks at you pointedly.

“I won’t,” you promise. “But thanks. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there. You’re… a pretty good guy.” And wow, you must’ve gotten hit harder than you thought.

“God, how can you just say those things?” Deadpool mutters to himself, almost sounding embarrassed. Your suspicions are confirmed as you watch him awkwardly climb out the window, the movement far more stilted and clumsy than the previous stealth he’s displayed. He remains crouched in the frame, regarding you for a moment. “I’m glad you’re okay though. Just… let me know if you ever find trouble again. I’ll stab a bitch. Or several bitches. And I mean bitch in the gender neutral, non-misogynistic sense. Obviously. Okay, I really need to go now. See ya!” He blows you a kiss and promptly leans back as he dives out of the window. You stare in disbelief, admittedly a bit concerned for his safety. But judging from the fading sound of footsteps, he landed just fine.

You suppress a laugh at his dramatic exit, before thinking back to what he just said. “Let me know if you find trouble again.” You appreciate the offer, and you can only hope you won’t have to use it. But… How are you supposed to find Deadpool, if something ever were to happen?

You muse on the thought as you stare at the open window, before sighing and pushing yourself to your feet. The effort is laborious and takes a bit longer than it should, but before long you’re able to walk over to the window and close it. On your way back to the bed, something on the nightstand catches your eye. It’s a card. You frown and grab it, opening it to find a simple message written in unmistakeable red ink:

Get well soon! Signed, Your Favorite Mercenary PS: Here’s my number. PSPS: Not in a weird way. Just in a friendly, heroic way. I mean, not heroic… I’m not a hero. And I know I said not in a weird way, but I also wouldn’t be opposed…? Jesus, what am I saying? Right, contact me if you’re ever in trouble. PSPSPS: Is “PSPS” a real acronym? Probably not. It sounds like something I’d say to a cat to get it to come closer. Anyways, bye! :P

You stare down at the card for several moments, before finding yourself laughing in disbelief. Moments later, you’re saving his phone number under a new contact named “DP⚔️” and smiling foolishly.

Deadpool is quite the interesting guy, to say the least. You almost hope that, as time passes, you’ll get to know him better. Although, at the same time, you hope you don’t ever need to contact him for his work. But regardless, you’re overwhelmingly grateful to the talkative, sarcastic vigilante who saved you.

author's notes: I have a bad headache as I post this, which feels like poetic justice somehow. lol.

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat @always-lying-to-you

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

#defectivevillain #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu x male reader #gn reader #transmasc reader #male reader #deadpool x reader #deadpool x male reader #deadpool x gn reader #deadpool x transmasc reader #etc etc #yuh

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orleans-jester · 2 days ago

Text

This Pierre, in this alternate verse, chose Piper. It was his last night alive, he had an inkling of that, and was choosing to spend it with Piper. A sensuous, sexual, passion-charged night. He was still the Pierre that everyone knew and rolled their eyes at, no matter the universe he still had a wandering eye, but when it counted? He chose Piper.

This Pierre had gone with the Laveaus when his mother and sister had come to confront Phoebus and pick up their stuff. He hadn’t tortured Thomas with hours of trying to justify his decisions. He had still been a pest at the Laveau house, sure, but it wasn’t out of anything bad-natured. That’s just what happens sometimes. But he didn’t make an enemy of himself, the way that the Pierre standing next to Piper right now had.

So all of that could very much have factored into the decision that Piper was going to make very soon.

“I missed you too,” Pierre said, his dark eyes brightening as he looked at her in the dim lighting of the room. “You were always my number one girl, you know that, right? No matter what happened, no matter who I was with, my mind … it always went right back to you.”

Even now, he kept tearing his eyes off of the vision of himself and Piper in that bathtub, and looking back to the real one. And that was damn hard for him. He was never one to turn down free porn.

He moaned, his Adam’s apple bobbing as she was touching him in this enclosed space. It was hard to focus on the plan when she was looking at him like this. Touching him like this. His breath was coming out quicker. Real touch. Not what happened in Hell. But real. Honest. Touch. “Promise me - we’ll have lots of time for this in the future?” He whispered.

He even thought about turning back time to when they got here. Have her here in this closet. He was already hard as a damn rock, just from her touch. Just from hearing himself in that bathtub out there. And from the idea of having life once more.

He let out a small groan into the kiss, his hands on his hips, feeling the dip of her waist before it flared out into that. “You’re bringing me back, how can I say no?”

He never even questioned how this one was going to die. He just saw the lucky fucker in a bathtub. At least he was having a good last day right? And then the thump - thump - thump of heavy footsteps. It sent a shiver up his spine just hearing them coming. He was growing nervous now. He was trying to appear brave, for Piper’s sake but shit, he was still a bit squeamish. He almost wanted to stay in that closet but Piper’s pull brought him out of it and he went running. Jump and slam. Jump and slam. Easy peasy. Like - those stupid football games that Ronno’s dad loved to watch.

And he tried. But the slam was too hard. Too physical. And what he did was slam his way into Delta’s line of fire, and push the other Pierre out of the way, and Piper grabbed him and took him back to the alternate universe. The exact Pierre Renault that everyone knew and loved to hate, was gone in a vomitous, fiery spew.

And now this new Pierre Renault was in this other world, the ends of his hair still damp, naked with a towel, and trying to get his bearings. But his eyes settled mainly on Piper, someone familiar, someone who he had just been with, someone who was now somehow magically dressed. His eyesbrows were furrowed as he ran his fingers nervously through his hair, making no attempt to tighten the towel or cover himself up more. They had talked about this happening but - actually having it happen?

Much like how he had made other decisions that greatly affected his life, though they might not have seemed so monumental at the time, others had too. In this other life, New Orleans hadn’t been wiped out. There weren’t zombies walking around. Hence how the scribbles kept ending up at Delta’s door, there were still plenty of them around. These changes were going to have to be adjusted to, once his mind wrapped around everything.

But one thing that never changed across universes was these were his two dudes. A grin came across his face as he saw them. He was alive. Seven never died in his universe so he was still alive too. He still had his two best guys. “It’s - definitely me,” He said, because in a way, it was. He was him. Pierre Renault.

He looked down at himself and chuckled. “Man, I wish. That sounds so much nicer than what really happens,” He said, a shiver going down his spine as he thought about the way that he would have died if not for Piper’s interfering. It could very well have come from the cold as well. “Dragon fire.”

He took the blankets from mothers with a charming grin, cacooining himself in one. And then because some things never truly change - “Wanna get somewhere warm and give this body a spin?” Which one of them was he talking to? All, of course.

The ladies loved the charm. Some people were turned off by it because they could sniff it out so easily, but these ladies didn't mind being razzle dazzled. Clotho had no doubts he'd be back up to 100 percent charming in no time.

As for Zero going emotional overload on Pierre at the last minute, he couldn't help himself. The anticipation made him burst. It all flooded out.

The guilt had been eating Zero alive. Fear of hurting more than he already apparently was stronger than guilt. It won out in the end. Luckily, Pierre smoothed it over quickly. "Thanks Pierre. You know how to make a guy feel better." Maybe he was still his aftercare guy after all? He just didn't know everything he was going to need aftercare from. Guilt counted. So did confusing internalized feelings he'd never be able to discern. All he knew was he felt better now.

Well, he'd feel better about the moment both Pierre and Seven were back. Seven down, Pierre to go.

After Pierre had disappeared on and he was left with Seven the number boys had their own private conversation while Piper and Pierre were off getting an eye full of self porn from their multi-verse doppelgangers.

This is where Pierre got explained the whole plan. He seemed to get the gist of it. Piper supposed it was enough.

"Yeah, maybe so." She said smoothing her hands over his shoulders in such a sensual way it could only seem like she might just be getting aroused by the scene before them, or by Pierre's suggestion. "Maybe we should."

Then she leaned her forehead against his. "I really have missed you." She smoothed her thin long, graceful arms around his shoulders. "I once wondered if it was just the idea of you. Then I realized we were never a couple, so that didn't make sense. The idea of what? Right? We were always just us. That's when I knew for sure it was just you. Not some idea in my head of who I thought you might be. I just missed the times we did have. Wished for simpler times maybe. But nah, no farfetched fantasies. I know what was missed."

As she spoke her eyes would glance over at the pair in the bath gauging the moments knowing the routine because she'd seen it before. What a world it was when this was one of the last things Pierre would do before his last breaths. He wasn't so lucky in their timeline. She'd look fondly at Pierre and say, "It's almost time. When I so go, we're going to follow out behind them, but stay low."

She kept staying close though. She kept running her fingers through his hair, her nose against his neck, hands would smooth up and down his arms. She was remembering Pierre. It'd been so long. She kept having little flashes of their times in the forest or at the party in Funkytown. Fun times. Easier times. Times when he was just a boy, and she was just a girl. Neither one of them were anybody special that either of them really knew of.

Then her muscles would start to tighten as time drew near. She readied herself. She looked up. "I wanted to thank you for saying yes." She knew damn well he could have said no. "It was the most purple thing you could have ever done for me." Then she kissed him deeply, a high vibration thank you with all the energy she put into it. He would be able to feel it fuzzing off the edge of her skin. It took all herself control to not have her groove kick on in a moment like that. She might not have been as high strung with the music as Kuzco, but when emotions were high even Piper had a difficulty containing.

Then rattle-rattle, clang-clang, footsteps were clodding echoes down the halls towards the bath chambers the pair were basking in.

She patted his shoulder. Like now. Now. Get ready Get ready. She was waving her hand in a frantic be still, almost sort of way as Piper and Pierre went sloshing out of the tub to see what was going on. Pierre's name was being called. The voice should be familiar to them both as Delta was hardly an unknown relic to either time jumper here.

They were hidden in an unknown part of Delta Castle.

Why? In that timeline things had gone a little differently and as a timekeeper Delta kept him on board longer than she had in the current timeline. He didn't make the same mistakes he had this timeline. He made a few different ones. Whatever they were caused an uproar because Delta was tired of unknowns she referred to as his scribble faces coming up to the castle looking for him. She told Frank if one more of his scribbles comes to her door looking for Pierre she's going to burn him alive. She was just sick of it. They like low maintenance monsters. The Hunch's family was all they could handle in this world too. Sorry Pierre. It's an acid bath for you.

The footsteps would change dramatically because Delta was transforming and slamming into walls in her dragon hide through awkward corridors. Dragon scales smashed corners like armored dozers and armored trucks and she barreled in.

Even Diablo's voice would be squawking Pierre's name. Piper would be pushing him out, "You better go." She'd be helping him with a towel as she wrapped her own.

The real Piper would be holding low and gripping the real Pierre's arm. "Here we go."

Once Piper and Pierre ran out into the corridor, she pulled him out of the closet. "Come on. Come on." She hurried.

She bent down. "Watch. Right there. Just jump at him. JUMP HARD. With intention with this." She put the mini purple hourglass in his hand. "You don't have to turn it. Just hold it. Just hold it and jump. Slam into him. Slam into him and everything will happen so fast. As long as you're holding this, it'll be a done deal. I'll go right home too. The new body goes home. You got it. Right when you see the dragon's shadow emerge from that hall. That's when you jump."

Just outside in the hall where they were talking the doppleganger Piper and Pierre were arguing hearing the dragon gaining headway. Piper was wondering what Pierre did this time because Delta gave him his last warning. Pierre was feigning shocked innocence while naming a few things as if they shouldn't have counted and wasn't sure if Delta might have counted them.

So as the pair were making up their minds what to do, time would too fast. The dragon would speed forth spew acid all over Pierre and get this pesky problem out of Delta's curly boingy hair.

However, when she'd spring forth that's the pinnacle moment of truth. Piper had her moment of clarity. Those devil horns spun out from the spirals of her spiked puppeted mind.

Maybe she'd just push the dopple-Pierre out of the way to head out with the real hourglass. She'd leave the real Pierre behind, a purple trinket in his hand from her belt. The one she'd carried like a burden of grief and lady of sorrow for his time gone. But this was no Via Dolorosa. No, she was here to save a life. Maybe Pierre would still get the last laugh, but this Pied Piper lured a Pierre away and gained another in return.

Chomp. Drizzle. Acid bitch sizzle.

The current timeline soul - back to the other side. Dead. In the multiverse otherworld killed by Delta's acid out of sheer annoyance not for anything heinous.

Back in the current world with the mother Fates and strings that were now bonded-

"Told you I'd save your life." Piper said to the new Pierre. A Pierre that no one else knew was any different. In many ways he wasn't. It was their plan all along. "Now live it with meaning. Live it deliberately."

Zero and Seven would be clueless at this point. It would be the same Seven. No tricks. He was a last-minute decision brought into this. Piper had been plotting this with the Fates for so long trying to find the perfect Pierre. So many strings.

It was why this Pierre would seem to know her. It was why Seven and Zero wouldn't suspect a thing at this point. Piper came from the future and told him he was going to die but didn't tell him when. With his abilities she didn't want him messing anything up. Everything would go off without a hitch and now they were back with a living and breathing Pierre and Seven. Also, with how Piper knew the other Pierre reacted having to keep himself a secret in a different body she didn't want this one to have to go through that again, so even though she promised this one he was going to get to be open about things with most people they'd have a discussion about all that once they got to this world.

Zero was wide eyed. Seven too. They'd had their moments alone. Now they were taking in Pierre.

"Woah my man, woah. You made it. Is that really you?" It was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but in this case maybe it should have been literal.

"What's with the wardrobe change? Not that I'm complaining. Heh. eh." He looked down at the towel that magically managed to stay on during their time travel back to this timeline. "You drown in the bathtub, right? That's got to be it? Am I right?" Trying to guess how Pierre died in his alternate life felt like a fun thing to do seeing him come back in next to nothing but a skin sweater.

The mothers were already on it bending down in their baskets picking up blankets to carry over to him in case he was cold catering to him.

#PierrexPiper #PierrexZero #PierrexSeven #PierrexFates

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sigritandtheelves · 1 day ago

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Moment of Hope

1.5k wds | PG13 | msr, scenes in between, season 9, “Trust No 1”

God help me because I HATE season 9, but I watched “Trust No 1” last night (there was some factoid I was after in the “Dearest Dana” letter exchange), and I got mad about it all over again. This ep is especially cruel when you consider where the rest of the season goes (“Some day you’ll ask me, my son…” etc.) but I’m not ever going to deal with that except in fix-its. Anyway, it occurred to me that at the end of the ep, both Mulder and Scully are in the quarry. We don’t see how either of them gets out, so presumably… they could have found each other there, at least temporarily.

Indulge me. 🤷‍♀️

—

In the presence of the quarry’s iron, whispers of an old gift come back. He can hear her fright: mortal terror in the face of a monster worse than anything they ever hunted together. But the mind of the thing that follows her is an echoing void—like a high-pitched whine. She’s screaming at it, demanding answers, which Mulder can hear with both his mind and ears—she's some yards away, in the box canyon made by the digging.

The thing will kill her, without hesitation, to get to him. How stupid he was to think they could possibly be safe. It’s suicide, but he runs toward her, toward the danger that wants him dead. Between her death and his, there isn’t even a choice.

And then, something strange. The whine gets higher-pitched, begins to vibrate like a string pulled tight and plucked. The tension builds until, like a bowstring released, there's an explosion of rock and dust. The vibration is gone. The monster is dead.

Mulder listens for any others, fellow soldiers who might be following—hunting him. But there’s nothing. He sprints through the flat plane of rock, through the hulking monoliths of digging equipment and trucks. He hears her footsteps and they are so close—she is so close. “Scully!”

The footsteps stop. “Mulder?”

“I’m here!” He jogs toward her voice, and suddenly there she is—stunning, perfect, beautiful, his Scully. They crash into each other, and he throws his arms around her. She is sobbing against him, gripping his coat, shoving her face against his shirt.

“Oh god,” she chokes out. “Oh, Mulder.”

He can’t speak. He can hardly breathe. Instead he squeezes his eyes closed and presses his lips to her hair. It’s longer now. He lets his fingers slip through it, cup the back of her head. He puts only enough room between them so he can bend his face down and kiss her.

Theirs is the desperate love of the perpetually endangered, and this kiss is no different. He swallows her fear as best he can, devours the anguish of their terrible separation. Being away from her is the worst and hardest thing he’s ever done. “Scully,” he says into her mouth. “Dana.”

She lets out another little sob, then brings her hands to his face. She holds his cheeks, looking at him in the dusty moonlight of the quarry. “You’re really here,” she says.

He drops his forehead to hers. “Scully, are you safe? Are you okay?”

“I think so. That thing, that man—he was going to kill me, I think, or he wanted to kill you. He said either you or William has to die, which doesn’t make any sense, Mulder.”

“It might,” he says. “Because of the rock. The iron.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He died, right? The rock wall of the quarry killed him.”

“I—yes. He just kind of exploded into the rock, like it was a magnet. It pulled him into it.”

Mulder nods. “The iron does something to me, too. When I’m near it, I can hear thoughts again. I can hear yours.”

Her eyebrow goes up. “Right now?”

Another nod.

“What am I thinking?”

He listens for a moment, and then smiles. “You’re thinking, Mulder you’re crazy.”

She bites her lip. “What else?”

“You’re crazy, but I love you.”

Her smile is the best thing he’s seen in months. Then her expression shifts, brow furrowing. “But what does that mean, Mulder? What does it have to do with William?”

“I could hear the supersoldier, too, Scully. Not what he was thinking, but the sound of him. Like a…” He holds his hand beside his ear and twists it back and forth. “A kind of vibration. And I think William will be able to do the same, maybe even without being near the rocks. That’s why we’re a threat to them.”

“William can do those things because of you?”

“Because of both of us.” He drags a thumb over her cheek. “You had the vaccine too. You touched the artifact, the ship in Africa.”

“William is different,” she confesses. He can see how hard it is for her to say and thinks maybe she’s never said it out loud before. He watches a crestfallen tilt emerge on her lips and brow. “So he’ll always be in danger, won’t he? You both will.”

This, it seems, is the impossible choice, the terrible price they have to pay for keeping them all alive: that they will never be together as a whole family unit.

But now they have something they didn’t before. “I don’t think that’s necessarily true, Scully.” She tilts her head, a look of both despair and expectation on her face. “Now we know how to find them,” he says. “And now we know how to kill them.”

At that moment, more footsteps come barreling toward them across the gravel, so they pull apart quickly, preparing for a fight.

“Agent Scully!”

But it’s only Monica and John.

“Over here,” Scully calls before holstering her gun and falling back against Mulder’s chest. He hooks his arm around her waist, kisses the top of her head.

“Mulder!” Monica cries. Both of the other agents look surprised to see him. "Why are you still here?"

“It's the safest place to be. Maybe the only safe place to be.”

Doggett and Reyes look at each other in confusion.

“The Shadow Man is dead,” Scully says. “We might have found a way to kill them.”

It’s good news, and Mulder should be happy about it. But standing here beside Scully is breaking his heart because the longer he stays, the harder it will be to leave again. There may be no more of these monsters in the quarry, but there are hundreds of them in D.C.

Scully digs her keys out of her jacket pocket. “I’ll explain in the car,” she says, walking toward the sedan parked near the site’s entrance. When she notices that Mulder isn’t following, she stops. Now she’s standing with Doggett and Reyes, and he is apart from them, clenching his jaw, his fist, every muscle in his body, it seems. “Mulder?”

He doesn’t want to do this again. He can’t. A steady stream of no no no no no goes through his head and they’re still in the quarry so he can hear Scully, too—figuring it out, realizing, shifting from hope to dread.

Oh no. No no. Mulder, please come with me, I need you, I can’t do this anymore, please please I need you, I can’t, no no, you have to stay you have to come with me you have to see William he needs you too and I’m so lonely, god please I love you Mulder you have to stay don’t do this to me again—

And it almost breaks him, cracks something inside him, and he has to turn away from her to speak. “I can’t, Scully.”

She’s rushing back to him, pulling his arm, turning him so he has to see the pain on her face. “Mulder, please. You said it yourself, we know how to find them now. We know what kills them.”

He’s shaking his head, but it’s so painful to refuse. “It’s not safe. I don’t want to get you hurt.” He takes her face in his hands and bends down to kiss her again. He pours all of his love into it, all of his hope that they will be together soon. When he’s alone again in a run-down trailer in the middle of nowhere, when he’s missing her so much that it physically hurts his chest, maybe he can draw from this. He feels the love pouring off of her not in words but in waves and waves of emotion. He feels her fear and her desperation and her sadness too, but mostly her love.

She breaks the kiss this time because she’s crying, and her breath hitches. Monica and John have turned away to give them privacy, but Mulder glances over at them. “You three have the tools now,” he says. “It's time to figure out a weapon, and when we know how to fight them, you come find me. Look for the iron, Scully, and that’s where I’ll be. That’s where the fight will be.”

She nods her head, but he can feel how much it hurts her to agree. “It’ll be soon, Mulder. We’ll work fast. I can’t do this for much longer.”

“Neither can I.” He wipes another round of tears from her cheeks. “I love you, Dana.”

She reaches into her pocket before he can force himself to back away and says, “Wait.” She’s holding a flat square of paper. “This is for you.”

He takes it from her. It’s a photo of William, chubby-cheeked and smiling in her arms, though her face is not quite visible in the frame. He bites his tongue until it bleeds to keep from crying, from giving in and saying he will stay. “Thank you,” he manages.

Scully looks at him like he is ripping her heart in half, which he supposes he is. I love you, she mouths silently.

He begins to back away and tries to smile, but it falls flat. “Write me another email,” he says. “They’re monitoring everything. Make them think I never saw you, okay?”

She nods, tears streaming freely down her face now. He turns, and he leaves half of his own heart behind.

— End —

Okay, that was way sadder than I thought it would be—initially I thought I’d write some kind of smut against the quarry rocks fic, lol, but that seemed slightly out of character. Anyway IN THIS UNIVERSE THE EPISODE “WILLIAM” NEVER HAPPENS and the show follows a logical plot line around the supersoldiers in which the X-Files team actually studied the iron and figured out how to kill them (why didn’t they do this on the show???) and Mulder could come back. Because honestly what the fuck was going on the rest of the time in that season?

TY for reading my middle-of-the-night word puke. 🛸❤️

#a thing i wrote #season 9 #for some reason #trust no 1 #msr fanfic

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fuck-you-upmusicbracket · 1 day ago

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Achilles Come Down (Gang of Youths)

The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken/Remember the pact of our youth/Where you go, I’m going, so jump and I’m jumping/Since there is no me without you

How, the most dangerous thing is to love/How, you will heal and you'll rise above/Crowned by an overture bold and beyond/Ah, it's more courageous to overcome.

You may feel no purpose/Nor a point for existing/It's all just conjecture and gloom/And there may not be meaning/So find one and seize it/Do not waste your self on this roof

Soldier on, Achilles, Achilles, come down/Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?

"I'm sure you'll get other submissions for this one. I have no idea who this band even are outside of this song but it fucks me up like it does everyone else. It's the tragic love of it all. The desperation of trying to save your loved one from themselves. Or are the narrators of the song Achilles' own conscience representing his indecision on whether to kill himself or not? It can mean so many things and SO many parts of the lyrics are very poetic and powerful. (also again for me this makes me cry over a Specific Blorbo in this case Dimitri Blaiddyd but that doesnt matter)"

"The cellos in the background, the lyrics, telling the story of Achilles, the fact that it's fucking 7min long, it's beautiful, it breaks me to then pull me back together, it gave me hope in a moment where I wasn't in the best mental space, it's like getting undressed to your very soul only to be cover up with a weighted blanket afterwards and be told "it'll be alright." It's like that image with the guy that's like "this is cinema" but with a song, god I love this song so much"

"Ohhhg my god. It’s so. It’s a fucking heartbreaking song but it gives hope (^^see abovw lyrics. there may not be meaning so find one and seize it gets me the most). I can’t say anymore about it but yeah"

"Achilles is about to jump off the roof, his lover is trying to convince him not to. the vibe of this song itself is so unique, the violin and the segments of French reading really grip at your soul. Towards the end there are two voices seemingly arguing. One voice is Achilles’s inner monologue and the other is his lover trying to yell over it. This part is my favorite, especially if you’re envisioning your blorbo. Tbh in my darkest times I would fall asleep to the ten hour loop every night. It felt like laying on a rooftop and looking out at the stars and the street lights. I think maybe it kept me from doing things I would regret."

Fast Car (Tracy Chapman)

You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere/Maybe we make a deal, maybe together we can get somewhere/Any place is better, starting from zero got nothing to lose/Maybe we'll make something, me myself I got nothing to prove

So I remember when we were driving, driving in your car/Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk/City lights lay out before us/ And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder/And I-I, had a feeling that I belonged

You got a fast car/Is it fast enough so we can fly away?/We gotta make a decision/Leave tonight or live and die this way

"I know it's an obvious one but YOU try playing it without crying I dare you"

"I cant explain the yearning but this makes me howl"

"OH GOD the longing!! The yearning in the recurring central image of the narrator and her lover on the highway, feeling this sense of limitless possibility and incredible hope!!! And then the verses take us with brutal efficiency through the collapse of their marriage, the way that the cycle of poverty stomps down on their hopes, and how with nothing left, the narrator does what her mom did and leaves!! Leaving the kids to experience the same thing she did growing up!! But it’s all punctuated and bookended by these callbacks to that central iconic memory of hope!!!!! But by the end we realize that the last line “leave tonight or live and die this way” offers only the illusion of a choice: when the narrator first runs away and later when she leaves her husband and kids, she’s still fulfilling her role in this cyclical generational story. God!!"

Fast Car submitted by @smallboyonherbike + @uchihasasukeofficial + @all-our-exploring

#fuck you up bracket #tournament #polls #gang of youths #tracy chapman

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llflorence · 1 day ago

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Can I convince you to fall for me?

RatedE, Second Chance AU, Complete ✅

Be sure to check out the art by @gahellhimself-blog here.

Thirty miles go by rather quickly when the driver is doing seventy miles per hour while kissing each of one’s fingers and also squeezing the inner length of one’s thigh.

Aziraphale is convinced he’s going to die. But he’s not that bothered by it.

What a way to go.

He doesn’t die, of course, because Anthony can do everything. The car slides to a halt in a snow-covered driveway before a bungalow-style house that is much tinier than Aziraphale had expected. Anthony slams it in park and heaves himself from the car, runs around the front, and pulls Aziraphale out before he can register that they’re really here.

They start making out against the car before the door is even closed. Anthony cups Aziraphale’s face between buttery-soft leather gloves. His lips are crushing, his tall, lithe body so strong, almost overpowering. Aziraphale’s mind goes completely blank as he rides a wave of anticipation that has him aching most painfully.

When Aziraphale shivers, not from the cold but with delight, Anthony groans and pulls away.

“God,” he says. His exhale steams in the cold night air. “You are the most amazing kisser.”

Part of Aziraphale wants to protest; all he’s doing is standing there. But another part knows it simply because he has a connection to this man that he hasn’t felt with anyone else.

“Come on inside,” Anthony says, waggling his brows. “And I do mean that literally.”

Aziraphale laughs. They shuffle through the ankle-deep snow to a path that leads to the front door. Anthony holds it open, flips on a light in the entryway. And the second Aziraphale is inside, Anthony is kissing him again.

“Mm,” he hums as he allows Aziraphale room to breathe again. “I’m going to give you a tour, and kiss you in every room of this house.”

Aziraphale’s heart thuds in his chest. “Oh.”

Anthony discards his coat and suit jacket, hangs them on a row of hooks on the wall, then helps Aziraphale to do the same.

“So,” he announces, straightening to his full height and smiling widely. He sweeps an arm from one wall to the next. “This, my friend, is the entry.”

It’s not meant to be funny, but Aziraphale finds it so. He chuckles as he removes his shoes. He hopes his feet don’t stink too badly.

Anthony takes his hand and pulls him down the hallway toward what looks to be a very large kitchen. “Well, if you liked that, you’re going to love this!”

Bright and open, completely modernized with shiny chrome surfaces, Aziraphale notes that the amount of space between one counter and the opposite wall is bigger than his entire apartment. And he decides this home is the TARDIS: bigger on the inside.

“I do love –” he begins, but stops when he notices Anthony working to remove his tie. Long elegant fingers slide seductively (or at least, that’s what Aziraphale sees) to loosen and slip through and pull from beneath an unbuttoned collar. Two more buttons are gone before Aziraphale has time to brace against the center kitchen island, and then Anthony is reaching for his tie, too.

“I thought you preferred bow ties,” he says, speaking right down the inside of his collar and into the hollow of Aziraphale’s clavicle.

Aziraphale, ear twinging as if a cat has purred into it, continues with the Dr. Who theme. “Bow ties are cool.”

Anthony snorts a laugh and runs his nose along the collar’s edge, working the top buttons of the shirt. He kisses the throbbing pulse on Aziraphale’s neck.

“Do you like my kitchen?”

Aziraphale, currently on cloud nine under the influence of a succubus, whimpers.

“That’s a yes,” Anthony smiles. He makes a point to suckle under the point of his Adam’s apple, then moves abruptly and quickly, tugging Aziraphale by the elbow into the next room.

“Living room.”

It’s a space that has been taken over by a sectional couch and large ottomans, like some type of harem tent with a massive TV on the wall. It’s clear that this room is meant to be a haven from the outside world; a place to escape reality and fall into something less stressful.

Aziraphale wonders for a moment which body part will be next, until Anthony begins undoing the remainder of his own buttons. His smile has turned wicked.

He’s not wearing an undershirt, as evident by the skin that peeks out little by little. Underneath he’s bare with hints of dark red hair that looks as if it’s been groomed to follow the curves of a surprisingly lean-muscled chest. This, of course, sets Aziraphale into a panic, because he knows he’s about to be next. And he isn’t quite sure he’s ready for Anthony to see the regrettable soft body that lays hidden under his clothing.

But as Anthony works Aziraphale’s buttons, gaze focused on the job, that fear eases slightly. Eases because it feels incredibly good to have someone dote on him in such a way.

Anthony slides both hands beneath Aziraphale’s untucked undershirt once the buttons are finished. The initial shock of warm fingers causes Aziraphale to stiffen. But as the shirt rides up over the swell of his belly, bunching under Anthony’s steady movements, he heaves a deep sigh and gives himself a talking-to.

Now listen here, Aziraphale, he scolds. He hears the voice in his head. This man is not afraid of your skin, so why the hell are you?

And he answers, out loud. “I’m afraid you won’t like what you see.”

To that, Anthony looks up, ceases the worship of his body, quizzical. His thumbs are dangerously close to Aziraphale’s nipples.

“And why on earth would I not like it?”

Aziraphale shrugs and decides to be honest. What does he have to lose at this point? “Because of the extra weight, and the lack of any muscle to speak of. Getting older, you know?”

Anthony’s concern turns into understanding, and he takes a step closer yet. He does indeed find both nipples. Circles them with his thumbs. It feels absolutely incredible.

“I do know. I happen to be experiencing age too.”

Nails scrape across sensitive surfaces and Aziraphale whines. He closes his eyes and tries to stay on course. “I’ve got three years on you, and you know it. No need to be smug about it.”

Anthony is grinning when Aziraphale opens his eyes. The man is full-on pinching both nipples now.

“I’m not smug. I’m smitten,” he croons before ducking his head. Aziraphale quickly reaches for Anthony’s shoulders lest he pass out from pleasure.

Lightning zings straight to his crotch as Anthony suckles, as he pulls with teeth and laves with tongue and –

“God!”

The other nipple gets served the same kind of attention, and Anthony combs spread fingers through Aziraphale’s chest hair. He briefly remembers a discussion about removing it; by the feel of it, Anthony seems to be enjoying himself. Aziraphale is glad for understanding stylists.

Anthony makes a pained sound as he pulls back, as he allows Aziraphale’s shirt to fall, as he joins their hands and pulls once again.

“The study is next. Where I write. Where I keep my plants. I think you’ll like it.”

Aziraphale does indeed like it.

Maybe it’s the raging adrenaline, but Aziraphale can barely breathe as he walks into a virtual jungle. The whole outside wall is fitted with large panes of glass. Every available surface is covered by a hanging or or shelved or suctioned plant. He had forgotten the other man’s obsession with flora.

Anthony is beaming by this time, as he guides Aziraphale with one hand between his shoulder blades. “Look outside into the backyard. I’m building a greenhouse.”

Aziraphale laughs as he searches for an available peephole. He ends up pushing aside a spider plant to make room, and as he gazes out on a snow-filled back garden, he does indeed see a concrete slab upon which a frame has been partially erected.

He feels rather than hears Anthony sidle up behind him. Feels hands slide across his waistline. Feels fingers find his belt. He forgets to suck in his gut as those fingers unloose his belt, the button, the zipper. And he forgets to breathe as trousers are pushed off his substantial hips and glide down his legs to the floor.

Aziraphale thinks he can guess what Anthony intends to kiss next, as he finds purchase with both hands on the windowsill. With fingers inside his underwear, forcing the waistband over the bulge of his backside, Anthony means to kiss his –

“Oh, this ass,” he moans, muffled-like, crouching as underwear is peeled away from skin. “You’d make me a very happy man if you would give me permission to –”

“Yes,” Aziraphale breathes, fogging the glass. “Yes. Anything. Anything.”

A hand smooths out the hairs on one cheek. There’s a smile in Anthony’s voice when he speaks next. “No. Not anything,” he whispers. Aziraphale feels warm breath on the meat of that same cheek. “Only the things you like, my Angel.”

The sound Aziraphale makes, hearing that name, feeling those lips pressing into the skin of his backside?

“Fuck!”

Anthony snuffles as he laughs into the kiss. “Yes, yes. Patience. I’ve still got two more rooms to go!”

Aziraphale feels most gravely disappointed when his underwear is returned to its original position, as his trousers are pulled up, as the zipper is rezipped. He lets this fact be known when Anthony directs and pulls him up the stairs.

“You didn’t have to stop.”

Anthony’s laugh echoes in the open space. “Oh, but I did. If I continued, I’d be rogering you against the desk. And that is indecent for an Angel such as yourself.”

Aziraphale is momentarily stunned at the word. At both words, but one in particular. He most certainly is not angelic. There are fantasies he wouldn’t dream of telling anyone. Not even Anthony.

Well, possibly not Anthony. Not yet, anyway.

The upstairs is smaller than the downstairs, consisting of only two rooms. On the left lies the bedroom, on the right, the bath. It’s to the right that Anthony directs him first.

Like a specter performing a jumpscare on a haunted house visitor, Aziraphale’s image is suddenly reflected back at him from a very large mirror. He absolutely hates looking at his reflection. In fact, he purposely avoids doing so in his own bath, especially if he’s naked. And since he’s partially undressed, his belly hanging out and his hair all askew, he immediately recoils and looks away.

Anthony, unaware, follows him inside, peeling back Aziraphale’s shirt and then pulling it off by both sleeves. He lifts the undershirt all the way to his shoulders, then kisses gently between the shoulder blades there.

“Close the door,” he whispers, lips moving faintly against Aziraphale’s skin. “Take a few deep breaths. I think we both need to put our thoughts in order.”

And then he leaves. He backs out and rounds the corner until he disappears, most likely, into the bedroom. With heart in his throat, not exactly frightened, but close, Aziraphale obeys and shuts the door between them.

Aziraphale follows the advice and tries to calm himself. A nagging voice in the back of his skull is laughing at him, asking why someone like Anthony would be interested in someone like Aziraphale. But he shoves the voice way down deep. And he forces himself to look in the mirror.

“He wants you,” he says to the reflection. “He wants you so badly that he needs space.”

And that serves to boost his ego.

He discards the trousers, slips off both socks. He musses his hair to something less like he stuck a finger in a socket. He rinses out his mouth. He relieves himself and washes the parts of him that have been sweating. And then he takes a deep breath and struggles out of his undershirt.

Anthony is leaning against the opposite wall when Aziraphale emerges, still mostly clothed, eyes wide. He takes a very long, very purposeful look at everything Aziraphale has to offer.

And then Anthony is scrambling out of his clothes, too.

It makes Aziraphale laugh. “Where’s the fire?” he asks.

It’s three whole seconds before Anthony, in bright red boxers and lovely, freckled and deliciously hairy skin, replies.

“Fuck, Angel,” he says. He’s panting, hands shaking. Out of sorts as if Aziraphale has dealt him a blow to the stomach. He stands in the hallway as if unsure of what to do next. “Here I thought I couldn’t want you more.”

Aziraphale laughs nervously but knows he can’t give up just yet. He steps across the hall and takes Anthony’s fingers in his own.

“I want you, too.”

It’s a long, long walk to the edge of Anthony’s bed, with its shiny black sheets and a headboard so monstrous Aziraphale wonders how they got it in the bloody house. But he makes it. And he manages not to keel over sideways when Anthony indicates he should sit on the bed. And Anthony drops to his knees and pushes Aziraphale’s thighs apart.

Those stunning eyes under long lashes skewer him dead, that fantastic mouth forms a crooked smile. And Aziraphale already guesses what he’s going to ask.

“Please,” he begs, not even needing to hear the question.

Perfect teeth appear between wet lips, and Anthony wastes no time snagging Aziraphale’s elastic band. He pulls and tucks it under Aziraphale’s balls, then sits back and groans.

Aziraphale’s cock is half-hard, at least. It flops over his thigh, giving a valiant twitch of interest. Anthony watches for a long, long, long long moment. As if it’s the most amazing thing he’s seen. As if Aziraphale is his dream come true.

And isn’t that divine?

The man’s tongue runs along the inside of his upper lip, and then Anthony suddenly takes hold of Aziraphale’s cock, pulling it away from his body. He grips with cautious, gentle fingers. Lightly teasing at the tip, then firmer pressure just below the ridge. But it’s his eyes that are causing the most amount of damage. He looks so honestly wrecked.

Aziraphale has been sucked before. It’s his preferred method, if he’s honest with himself. Most of his fantasies over the past week have been of Anthony taking him inside that perfect, clever mouth.

Just. Like. This.

Not that he was prepared in the least, but Aziraphale does not expect to feel Anthony’s growling vibrations the second he kisses the soft, fleshy end. Aziraphale doesn’t expect the man to rub his closed lips back and forth, back and forth, a gesture of utmost intimacy. It feels amazingly good. Better than he remembers ever feeling in the past. And he thinks for half a second that he will have no trouble coming under Anthony’s care.

It doesn’t happen right away, nor does it begin to reach any kind of peak for some time. Anthony seems satisfied to tease Aziraphale within an inch of his life. Pulling away the second he makes any sort of impassioned noise at all.

Aziraphale has always been a moaner. Trying to keep it inside whilst Anthony begins to suck his stiffening cock, lower and lower, harder and harder, is torture at its best.

When Aziraphale stops making noises, Anthony ups the ante and takes Aziraphale’s hand, puppeting it into his slicked-back hair. He groans around Aziraphale’s erection, opening to suck in a gasp of air through his mouth. Strings of spittle stretch between them. Bubbles form at the corners of Anthony’s mouth. And Aziraphale’s excitement multiplies tenfold at the sloppy mess it makes in his lap.

“F-f —” he exhales, forgetting everything but that incredible point of contact between wet tongue and weeping cock. He slides fingers underneath Anthony’s hair at the neckline and encourages a deeper, faster pace.

His friend stutters, chokes hard, recovers quickly. He gets both hands inside the back of Aziraphale’s underwear and squeezes each ass cheek almost to the point of pain.

Anthony doesn’t sink all the way down. He’s smart enough, experienced enough to know that’s not where the nerve endings are. Instead, he works his tongue hard and fast, worrying a veritable hole in Aziraphale’s frenulum. It’s so good, the way Anthony shakes his head side to side, that Aziraphale has no trouble climbing to the summit.

“Anthony,” he gasps, clenching against his orgasm. He’s not sure if Anthony wants him that way.

As it turns out, the man is even more deviant than Aziraphale thought. He rips his mouth away, spits against his fist, and jacks Aziraphale into oblivion.

An eighteen-wheeler slamming through an overpass that’s much too short and narrow has nothing on the pressure, the intensity, the release that Aziraphale experiences. He comes suddenly, and he comes hard. And inside that incredible pulsing moment, he hears Anthony chuckle as he squeezes out every last drop.

“Look at you,” he gushes. “You’re gorgeous! ”

And that’s when he runs a hand up the length of each of Aziraphale’s thighs, jumping over the bunched state of his underwear, and right through the ejaculate that spilled on Aziraphale’s stomach.

Anthony leans in, and Aziraphale is pretty sure he places gentle kisses over the swell of his belly. He could be wrong, of course, but it’s almost as if the extra padding is something Anthony is —

Well. Worshipping.

It takes several long moments before Aziraphale can hear again. He’s not used to such activity, the lack of oxygen and overwhelming sensation of bliss. He’s uncertain what to think as Anthony continues stroking and kissing his gut. But he’s sure if he were to stand up, he’d immediately come crashing back to earth.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe we haven’t done this before now,” Anthony groans, sounding just as fucked out as Aziraphale feels. The man climbs up onto the bed on all fours, catching Aziraphale around the neck and hauling him backward onto the mattress. They laugh, fall side by side practically on top of each other, and Anthony budges up close to kiss the apple of Aziraphale’s cheek. He smells of spunk and sweat and toothpaste, a lingering minty-freshness, as if he’d worried about his presentation, too.

Aziraphale’s heart still hammers in his chest, and he's fairly sweaty in lots of undesirable places. But Anthony’s looking at him, nose flaring as he breathes deep of their combined body scents, like Aziraphale is a precious and rare commodity. He can’t quite believe they are where they are.

“Doesn’t matter, does it?” Aziraphale poses, throwing caution to the wind and speaking freely, without a filter. “We can do this however much we want now.”

And, oh. Isn’t that presuming all sorts of things?

Anthony’s face falls, and he looks suddenly nervous.

“Oh, I dunno about that, Angel. I probably got one good one in me. Not as virile as I was in my youth, you know.”

And he winks, the bastard.

This total misread of Aziraphale’s meaning makes it worse.

“I didn’t mean tonight,” Aziraphale says, trying to fix what he’s most likely broken by opening his big, fat mouth. “I meant . . .”

A lump lodges in his throat. Anthony’s brows quiver up and down.

“I meant, only if you want —“

“You think this is a one-and-done thing, don’t you?” Anthony interrupts. He’s rolled into Aziraphale, knee pinning his lower leg beneath it.

Aziraphale absolutely does not think this. At least, not in his own case. “That’s not what I meant.”

“And I meant that I should have snatched you up sooner,” Anthony continues. “Called to say hi, check that you were doing OK. I meant that I could have been your lover all this time since the divorce.”

The lump in Aziraphale’s throat becomes a sob, an inhale of air that brings the height of his emotions crashing down.

“I would have liked that very much,” he manages, eyes burning. The bittersweet sadness of wasted time is heartbreaking.

Without warning, Anthony gathers Aziraphale against his chest, hugging and hugging and hugging him. “I know it’s probably not the right time to say this, under the influence of your brand of seduction. But I fell for you the first day you visited my cubicle.”

“And I’ve already told you how I feel,” Aziraphale whispers, hardly able to keep his heart from bounding out of his chest. He’d said those three words to Anthony before either of them were divorced. “It hasn’t changed.”

Thick eyebrows lift in amusement, and Anthony smiles broadly. “I would hope your feelings have increased, at least a little bit. That was an impressive display of orgasmic euphoria just now.”

He’s teasing, and he’s so very close, and it’s everything Aziraphale has wanted now for –

“Hang on,” Aziraphale says, frowning. “How long have you been divorced?”

Anthony presses closer to nuzzle against Aziraphale’s cheek. “Oh, four, five years now?”

The sinking feeling in Aziraphale’s gut has as little to do with regret as it does with the overwhelming desire to make things up to this incredible, forgiving man.

“Five years?” he repeats. Aziraphale is suddenly very aware of a very convincing erection pressed hot and heavy against his upper thigh. He feels the tiniest bit guilty that they’ve stopped to talk before Anthony has climaxed. Even if it is to clarify where each of them stands at the beginning of an exciting new relationship.

Anthony doesn’t seem distracted, though. He finds Aziraphale’s chin with his thumb and strokes the divot there. He searches Aziraphale’s eyes for something. Waits patiently. Smirks slyly.

Empowered and hopeful and not one to shirk his duties (and also not thinking at all about Anthony’s suggestion of himself as a new landlord), Aziraphale pushes up on his elbow and shifts his weight. He hooks his ankle around Anthony’s knee, dives with a determined hand into Anthony’s boxers, and takes the man’s long, lean cock by the base.

As Anthony’s eyelashes flutter and he heaves a massive, content sigh, Aziraphale thinks about the future, and he’s suddenly not afraid at all.

“Well, you and me and five years' worth of middle-aged make-up sex,” he hums, rolling slowly so that he’s returning the favor, and has Anthony firmly by the cock. “What do you say?”

Anthony J. Crowley, the hottest man Aziraphle has ever met, closer than sin, skin on skin, smiles devilishly through stunning golden-brown eyes, and says:

“Yes.”

Read on AO3.

#ineffible husbands #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens

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coastershells · 2 days ago

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S U N - K I S S E D

IN WHICH — dallas isn’t very willing to give you up to a soc.

⚠️ : violence , a little bit of blood , but mostly dallas being.. dallas.

not proofread at all. / requested? | yes : no

｡°‧⭑.ᐟ wc — 1.3k

you shut your locker with a sigh as you try to make the books in your arms more comfortable in your grip. you want to sigh again , but you don’t.

you hold your breath , actually.

a few months ago you had broken up with your boyfriend , josh , which was a soc. you caught him cheating with another girl at a party. he claims he was drunk , and didn’t like that girl , but you weren’t up for it. ever since then , he’s been — well , he used to silently harass you , make sure nobody else was around when he begged for your forgiveness and nearly forced himself onto you. but it’s not quite silent anymore.

last week , he make a whole scene at lunch and screamed how you were so stupid to leave him.

you both got sent home that day. and a suspension landed on him , luckily you were let off rather easy. sure , you threw your lunch at him , but he started it in the first place!

even now , he still won’t leave you alone. sometimes , when it’s really bad , someone is atleast around to stop him from bothering you.

you grumble and head for the school doors , waving some of your friends bye as you walked out. you only let your mind wander again when you were walking down the street , the talking of other people fading.

it’s times like this when you feel uneasy , when there’s no one around , and you wish someone was walking you home.

specifically , the closet person you can name , dallas.

dallas wasn’t exactly a good person , but he wasn’t just an asshole , well — he was. but just not to you.

he’d walk you to and from school , and when you asked him why he no longer went , he made up a stupid excuse like ; “ don’t need it. i’m too smart. “

which he wasn’t.

when he walked you home , you feel safer. way safer , you felt safe with dallas in general. even when he stole , or did something completely dangerous.

you liked him.

and he obviously liked you , too. which led to you guys dating in secret.

none of the gang knew — well , two-bit was starting to catch on.

two-bit had noticed dallas wasn’t flirting with every girl he saw now , he would ignore them if they talked to him , or if he was at his job and a girl started to get touchy , he would tell them off.

though , two-bit never would think you were the reason.

mostly your friend sierra , or dallas would walk with you to stop your weird ex from harassing you yet again.

but sierra had cheerleading practice , and dallas was hanging out with the gang.

and you just prayed , absolutely prayed that this wasn’t one of josh’s days.

and if it was , just begging.

but no.

not this time.

“ baby , please! it’s been months! you can drop the act! “ he shouts from behind you. a shiver runs down your spine at the name.

“ don’t call me that. i told you , me and you are done! i don’t want you like that anymore! “ you say , and you already feel that lump in your throat coming back , like you’re about to cry again or something. “ please , just leave me alone. “ you barley manage.

“ why do you have be so damn difficult. “ he says , and you can hear his anger growing. you look back and realize that he’s actually picking up the pace in his strides.

“ just — just stop! “ you cry out , and you really wish you would’ve walked home with your friend today.

even as you do speed walk , and turn that into a run , he still ends up catching you and pulling you back by your shoulder. he presses you up against a nearby fence and you try you best to struggle or to get out , or to shout , or anything actually useful.

“ let me go! get offa me! “ you cry out , but those cries all die down when you see a switchblade in his hand. “ so fuckin’ annoying. all you had to do was get back with me. don’t wanna , huh? been rejectin’ me for 8 months. how about i give you a tattoo of my name? “ he sneers.

and that’s when panic really starts to set in.

“ somewhere visible.. “ he mutters as you try to rip yourself away , but his grip on your hair makes it more than impossible.

“ how about your arm? “ he twists you and has your face on the fence instead , and you wanna break out into a sob — no — you are.

“ got me suspended , fuck you. wouldn’t have happened if you would just listen. “

you whine as you feel the cold steel hit your skin , and you let out a yelp as he drags it down your arm.

“ please — stop jacob , let me go! “ you scream in pain as you feel the warmness begin to drip down your arm.

you were praying that he would stop , a change of heart — anything.

“ you’ll pay. i told you to just love me — it was one fuck up — you don’t listen- “

before he could finish talking , you heard the cracking of phones and a grunt come from behind you , and the grip on your hair releases along with the knife.

you gasp and turn around quickly , only to reveal a very much angered dallas and a surprised jacob.

“ what the fuck do you think you’re doin’ to my girl? “

“ my — my girl? “ jacob gasps out and looks at you. “ you cheatin bitch. “ he says in disbelief.

how could you cheat if you weren’t with him? that’s what you wanted to say , but as soon as you saw the blood dripping down your arm , you slid down the fence onto the floor. dallas gave you a quick glance before he walked towards jacob.

“ alright , listen here , you little shit. “ he spat as he grabbed him by his neck and a punch to his stomach , another strangled gasp came from him. “ you mess with her ever again in your fuckin life — “ another punch , right to his nose this time , and you can tell it’s broken , you heard the disgusting crunch of it and you wonder — what did dallas break before?

“ i will personally , deal with you. and it won’t be as soft as a broken nose. i’ll put you six feet under. and that’s my only promise to you. “

jacob nods , but he doesn’t seem to be done. that’s when you realize that he’s slowing reaching for his switchblade , and with no other option , you stumble to your feet and kick it onto the road.

dallas doesn’t seem to notice your action , he just seems to notice you. but before he even says anything to you , he pulls a very much exhausted jacob up from the floor and pushes him the other way , distancing him from you two. “ don’t wanna see your ugly face again. “ dallas says as he pulls out a cigarette and jacob runs away.

dallas then , finally turns to you and stares you down. “ what’s cookin’ , good lookin’? “ dallas laughs dryly at your scowl when he finishes the sentence. “ ew. don’t say that ever again. “ you nudge him playfully as he lights his cigarette. “ thanks — for , uh — “

dallas pauses , then takes your arm in his hand , and turns it. you wince. “ y-yeah , he got me good. “ you mutter and he makes a sound of disapproval.

“ if i knew he gave you this , would’ve done em’ way worse than a broken nose , sweetheart. “ he lets your arm go and urges you on.

“ come on , gonna patch you up. i’ve learned a thing or two about cuts after the rumbles i go to. “ he laughs at his own comment , and you stare blankly.

“ seriously , that guy’s a fuckin’ weirdo. i wish he would show his face around here again so i can blow it right off. “

“ no shootin people , dal. “

“ no promises , doll. “

AN : this is so rushed like when i tell you i wrote it in less than an hour..SOB.

uhh double post tomorrow i suppose maybe triple if i finish this fic i’m making for one of my moots on here but !! ya!!

taglist : @every1hatesmayaa , @enduplookinlikethescarybitches ( someone else ask to be on here i beg 🙏 )

#dallas winston x reader #dallas x reader #the outsiders dally #the outsiders #x reader #dally winston #dallas winston #oh hey normal tags this time!#wait #tw blood #i guess?#violence

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gothamite-rambler · 2 days ago

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Okay but what if, Ra's Al Ghul although being affably evil in my eyes, when the Court of Owls invade his palace to harm his family is not what he will let happen.

*yes some ooc, this was written for fun and for me I do still see Ra's as a villainous man that I don't like, but I've also always thought as bad as he is, he would never let snooty rich foes harm his family... that's his job and he labeled them as tests lol. Context here is that the Court of Owls after being rejected by Ra's and Batman, tracked Damian and Talia and were going to do unspeakable acts to them. Ra's made it in time and he's about to go full bad ass grandpa!

Ra's al Ghul entered the palace, his green and black cloak billowing as he stepped over the body of an owl member he had just stabbed.

Ra's: I come back and find my palace desecrated, sacked like Gotham. Worst of all, I hear you dare to touch my daughter and hurt her boy! I... have had.... enough.

The countess of the court, Lizabeth, stepped forward, her blonde hair slipping from her cloak.

Lizabeth: Old king, we only wanted to convince you to join us. The one who spoke those threats is dead, thanks to you. How about we handle this—

Ra's’s arrow cut her words short as it pierced her heart, sending her crumpling to the ground, lifeless.

Ra's (calmly, almost mockingly): No.

The lights in the palace went dark as Talia entered, cradling Damian in her arms. Though only eleven, she effortlessly carried him, surprising the young boy as the sounds of scattering and screams echoed through the halls. The palace staff remained hidden, leaving only the formerly ruthless assassins to fall one by one to Ra's's fury.

Ra's: "Let's go after a man who's practically a God, who has spent countless years mastering numerous fighting styles and weaponry, and think we can harm his family." Brilliant strategy, truly. You’re all so clever, aren’t you?

He struck down another panicking member who hadn’t seen him in the shadows. Any assassin who dared to attack was met with the swift bite of his sword, sheathed at his side.

As panic spread, six members huddled together—four men and two women.

Sebastian: Where is he? WHERE IS HE?!

Mara: Keep your head down! He's aiming for the torches!

Henry: Our weapons... they’re missing! He’s using the darkness to mask his approaches!

John: Our only chance is to strike in the darkness. We know these halls! We can tilt the odds!

Ra's (from the shadows): You don’t think I know my own palace? I BUILT IT!

In a brutal flurry, Ra's slaughtered all six members. More deaths followed until he cornered the remaining foes in a room after they attempted to harm Talia and Damian.

Alvah (with a sword embedded in his chest, begging): Mer... mercy...

Ra's: Mercy? MERCY?! My mercy has long since drowned. It died to make me who I am. And as long as you're around. My family's fate is left unknown. You plotted to kill my grandson... You planned to RAPE MY DAUGHTER! ALL OF YOU ARE GOING TO DIE!

Ra's yanked the sword free and seized Alvah by the hair.

Ra's (coldly): You filled my heart with hate. All of you who've done me wrong. THIS WILL BE YOUR FATE!

In a swift motion, Ra's beheaded Alvah, his lifeless body crumpling to the ground, horrifying the remaining members. As they screamed in terror, Ra's and Talia dispatched the rest with ruthless efficiency.

Damian (hidden in a closet, whispering): I want to come out, but I feel like I’ve seen enough blood for a lifetime.

Talia: Oh, yes, stay there, tifl. Give us a few minutes to clean up!

Damian (surprised): Mmmkay... did grandpa save us?!

Talia (smiling at her father): I think he did.

Ra's (shaking blood off his sword): Don’t dwell on it. Just... no one harms my family. No strangers, and no foolish, wealthy simpletons. And don’t hug me!

Talia shrugged, giving her father a gentle pat on the shoulder. Ra's, now covered in blood, felt an odd sense of relief in having saved his family. He knew he was ruthless, but he felt justified—it was a necessary purging for the protection of those he loved. In his formative years, he had sworn he became softer with a grandchild, but this time around, he didn’t mind.

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nfr-girly · 1 day ago

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You and Hasan separated and co-parent, but he still loves you // Hasan x reader

Summary: Hasan wants to convince you to give him a chance again

border by: @enchanthings-a

*this is a pt 2 but can be read on own* part 1

You set up the table as you wait for Hasan to arrive, you know what you two will have to talk about eventually but you don’t think about it

you hear fast footsteps running before a force is collided into your legs almost knocking you over

“Oof! Baby calm down” you pick up Theo and he giggles

“When is baba coming?”

“soon baby he’s bringing Kaya too!” He gasps in excitement before jumping down to go watch tv

half an hour goes by and all the food is prepared, you sit on the sofa with theo when you hear the doorbell ring

“BABA!!!” Theo bolts toward the door and tries to open it but is to short to reach, you chuckle and go to open the door.

you open it to Hasan, all dressed up with Kaya next to him, Kaya runs into the house before you can say hello

“BABA!!” Theo jumps up and down as Hasan picks him up, trying not to have his eardrum burst

“Hey big guy how are you? I missed you”

Theo starts rambling on about stuff, Hasan listens and chimes in now and then, but you don’t miss his glances at you

“Baby give baba a minute okay?” You laugh as he runs back into the house

You turn to Hasan to find him already looking at you

“Hi”

“Hey”

You two are silent for a second before you invite him in, he hangs up his coat before you lead him to the living room

“It’s really nice to have you here, i didn’t cook anything fancy we only planned this yesterday so..”

“Hey it’s okay, I miss your cooking anyway, you were always better than me” he chuckles

You two sit with Theo for a few minutes before heading to the table to eat

“I’ve prepared a special meal for Kaya too, I remember all her favourites”

“You’re kidding, after this she’ll love you more than me”

“That’s what I aimed for” you smile

Hasan helps Theo get on his chair as you hand the plates of pasta out

“Tell me this is with your homemade sauce because I could die for it” Hasan says

“It iss so you better like it” you joke

“You need to give me the recipe, you kind of owe me”

“For what?”

“Well I gave you a baby!”

“What so the morning sickness everyday for 9 months wasn’t enough?”

Hasan shuts up.

You all sit at the table and begin dinner

Theo talks about his time at school, speaking twice as fast so none of you could keep up

When you and Hasan can get a word in, you talk about small things that have happened in your lives, you didn’t realise how much there was that you hadn’t told Hasan. 4 years ago you two told each-other everything

Dinner flows by, and it feels like nothings changed. It feels like the dinners you would get before Theo could even talk, before all the arguments you and Hasan would have, before Theo had to go live with your mom so he wouldn’t hear the things you two said

You and Hasan never liked to talk about what happened, right now you two were friends and it felt better to stay that way.

You all finish dinner and Hasan helps you tidy up, Theo is worn out so you take him to bed

He gets changed and you tuck him into bed

“mama, is baba gonna stay?” You’re taken back slightly by his question

“No baby he has to go home soon”

“Whyyy I don’t want him to go, can he read me a story?”

“Let me ask him okay?” You go downstairs and ask Hasan, to which he agrees and you both go upstairs

“Hey bud, what do ya wanna read?”

“This!!” He pulls out a book and Hasan cosies up next to him

You’re about to leave when Hasan says “you coming mama?”

You think for a second before joining them, Theo lies in between you and Hasan

He begins reading softly to him, making sure to take his time. Near the end Theo starts snoring so you both know he’s asleep.

Hasan smiles and puts away the book, you both gently get out of bed and head downstairs

“I haven’t read to him in ages” he says

“I know, you should come over more often”

Hasan looks at you, longer than he wanted to

“So uh, are you and Kaya headed back home?”

hasan stops, “well, I was hoping we could talk about what I said yesterday”

Your breath catches in your throat - you were really hoping he’d forget

“I know that you don’t like talking about it, which is fine because I have a lot to say. I know that you and me didn’t work out, and I know that it was really bad last time. Believe me I’ve been scared myself, I don’t want that for Theo again”

“But it’s been 4 years, you and me worked it out, we broke up, we worked on ourselves and became friends again. And I’m happy we did that. But as soon as we both got happy again I felt so fucking miserable. Because I didn’t have the love of my life by my side which by the way you are, that’s never going to change. I just want us to be a family again, me, you, Theo and Kaya. so just please give me a chance, and if it doesn’t work out again then I’ll never say anything more about it.”

By now you’re tearing up, you have a million thoughts in your head and you don’t know which one to focus one

“Hey hey” he steps towards you, wiping your eyes

“Don’t cry okay? Please I hate seeing you upset”

“I’m not upset it’s just.. I’m so scared Hasan, Theo’s only just gotten used to the fact his parents aren’t together, but I know he still remembers our fighting. I just know, and I don’t want to put him through that now that he’s older”

Hasan takes in your words, he knows there’s a bigger risk than he realises but his need for you grows stronger

“I promise you, that I’m not going to let this ruin us, we’re better now, we’ve worked on ourselves. Nothings gonna change the fact that you’re the one for me, and I know you still love me.”

“Just tell me if you want to try again, I’m not going to force you but I don’t want you saying no just because you’re scared” Hasan pleads

You look up at him, you know you want to try again, and as much as you want to say no, you can’t help but wonder how things will end up if you try

“Okay” you nod

Hasan is taken back, “what?”

“Okay, we can try this out”

Hasan takes a moment before he smiles

“Really baby you mean it?”

You laugh slightly, “yes I mean it, but I want to take this slow, no rushing into things”

Hasan agrees, before thinking

“I know that you just said we can’t rush into things, but I really wanna fucking kiss you right now so can you give me that?”

You laugh and nod, Hasan doesn’t give it a second before he pulls you in and connects your lips to his

He holds your waist as you hold his face, all the worries you held wash away because all you care about now is him.

————————————————————————

guys call me shakespeare I wrote this in like 30 minutes

🏷️ @mavericksice @thatsactuallyinzane @kaya-p @fullofgutsndopamine @inhibitionfreewriting @the-phantom-author @makeandshift @hot-insurrectionist @hasblair @haileyisnotcool @xxepherr @hoziersmom @w3-posts

(tagged people who interacted with part 1 in case they wanted to read part 2)

#hasanabi #hasan x reader #hasanabi x reader #hasan imagine #hasan x you #hasanabi x yn #hasan #x reader #hasan piker x reader #hasan piker x you #hasan piker

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