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ha-rinrin · 7 months ago

Text

The Metal Touch

summary: What begins as intrigue and banter with Jinx quickly turns into something deeper—a mix of fire and vulnerability as her metal touch becomes both comfort and thrill.

Pairing: Jinx x Fem!reader

Wordcount: 6.5k

Authors note: I don't I really feel like I gave her finger justice but oh well, I tried. more fics are on the way guys I just cant stop writing with the new amazing content of season two 😭 also I didn't proof read 3 times, thats what I usually do, so if its bad thats why.

masterlist

The dimly lit workshop buzzed quietly with the sound of metal grinding against metal. Jinx tinkered with her mechanical finger, her expression an intense blend of fascination and frustration. Every so often, she muttered something under her breath, adjusting a bolt or tightening a screw, her usual bravado toned down by the meticulousness of her task.

“Almost got it,” she mumbled, her fingers moving with surprising finesse over the intricate mechanisms. Sparks flickered, and you instinctively reached out to brush them away from her, grinning when she looked up with a smirk.

“Afraid I’ll break, toots?” she teased, her eyes glinting with that familiar, playful gleam.

“Not afraid—just making sure my girlfriend stays in one piece,” you reply, nudging her shoulder. “Besides, not everyone has a cybernetic finger to work with.”

Jinx rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. “Come on, where’s your faith?” she quipped, giving her finger one last twist and holding it up for a test. She flexed it, and to your relief, it worked without a hitch. “See? Perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, for now,” you teased, reaching out to take her hand in yours, feeling the cool metal of her finger against your skin. She didn’t pull away, her gaze softening as you laced your fingers together, careful of the mechanics but not the least bit shy.

She grinned, standing up from her chair and tugging you closer by the hand until your faces were inches apart. “Guess I should thank my pretty assistant, then,” she murmured, her voice low, as her free hand reached up to cup your face.

Your cheeks warmed under her touch, and before you could come up with a clever reply, she closed the gap, kissing you softly yet confidently, Her lips curled into a smile against yours. Your hands found their way to her waist, holding her close

“You make this stuff look easy, you know?” you whispered when you pulled back, catching your breath.

Jinx shrugged, as if it was nothing, but the way she held onto you said otherwise. "I don’t know, you make it easier.”

She kissed you again, and as the machines hummed around you, it felt like, for a moment, the whole world was just the two of you, tucked away in the quiet workshop, right where you belonged.

The workshop seemed to shrink, leaving just the two of you in the dim light and soft whirring of machines. Jinx’s lips brushed yours again, but this time, there was a fierceness that hadn’t been there before—a sense of urgency you felt all the way down to your toes. Her hand, warm and steady, slid to the small of your back, drawing you in closer as the kiss deepened. It was full of all the unsaid words she rarely let show.

You felt her smirk against your lips, her metal finger tracing along your jawline as her other hand tugged you even closer, leaving no space between you. Your heart pounded, and every nerve seemed to come alive under her touch. She broke the kiss only long enough to catch her breath, her gaze dark and heated as she looked at you, her purple eyes blazing in the dim light.

“See? I’m not all that dangerous,” she murmured, her voice low and breathy as her lips found your neck, leaving a trail of heat with every kiss. Her mechanical finger traced up your side, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and you couldn’t help but tilt your head, giving her more access as her lips and teeth made quick work of your senses.

You tightened your grip around her, pulling her impossibly closer, losing yourself in the warmth and intensity of her embrace. Her breath was warm against your skin as her hands roamed with an expertise that had you forgetting everything else, her laughter soft and thrilling as she felt your heart racing against hers.

Jinx’s kisses intensified, her lips pressing hungrily against your skin, making your pulse skyrocket. Her metal finger traced down your spine, the coolness a sharp contrast to her warmth, igniting shivers along your skin. Every graze of her mechanic middle finger was electrifying, a reminder of both her strength and the tenderness she only shared with you.

She pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her breathing heavy, her gaze intense. “You don’t mind a little metal, do you?” she teased, a wicked grin flashing across her lips as she lifted her metal finger to gently hold your chin, her thumb brushing over your lips.

You barely had a moment to shake your head before she kissed you again, deeper this time, her mechanical finger trailing up and down your side, their cool touch making you tremble.

It was as if she knew exactly how much pressure to apply, a calculated intensity that left you breathless. Her hand moved from your chin to your shoulder, holding you firmly in place as her other hand slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt, exploring with a confidence that made your knees weak.

“Feels different, doesn’t it?” she murmured against your lips, her metal finger pressing into your skin, creating a contrast that drove you wild. She leaned in, her mouth brushing your ear as she whispered, “Bet no one else could make you feel like this.”

You couldn’t form a coherent response, too caught up in the heat of her touch and the rhythm of her breathing. She chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as she pressed you back against the workbench, her metal hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, keeping you firmly in place as she kissed you again, her lips urgent and unapologetic.

“See?” she whispered, her voice a low growl. “Told you I wasn’t dangerous… unless you like it that way.”

Her words sent a thrill down your spine, and you gripped her tighter, pulling her close as your lips met hers again in a kiss that was as wild and intense, just as she was, both of you losing yourselves to the heady mix of passion and abandon in the quiet of the workshop, with only the flicker of lights and hum of machinery as witness to the fire between you.

The intensity between you built, filling the workshop with a charged silence that only quickened breaths and the hum of machinery could break. Jinx’s fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, her touch both familiar and thrilling, and she paused, her eyes meeting yours with a spark of mischief.

“Mind if I make things a little… warmer?” she asked, her lips curving into that wicked smile she wore so well. Her hands, both warm flesh and cool metal, gripped the fabric and, without waiting for your answer, began lifting it. You raised your arms as a sign of permission, letting her pull it off in one smooth motion, and she tossed it aside, her gaze sweeping over you with an unmistakable glint of admiration.

She bit her lip as her fingers trailed over your bare skin, her metal fingertip cold but thrilling as it traced along your collarbone. “Didn’t think I’d get this lucky in the middle of a tune-up,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving you as her other hand went to her own shirt, tugging it over her head with practiced ease. You felt your cheeks heat up, unable to hide your appreciation as her shirt joined yours in a messy pile on the floor.

Before you could catch your breath, she pressed against you, her bare skin warm and firm against yours, her lips finding yours again with a hunger that made your pulse race. Her metal finger found your waist, the sensation sharp and grounding, while her other hand cupped your face, guiding you deeper into the kiss, her mouth capturing yours with a fierceness that felt like it was made for you alone.

You slipped your arms along her sides, savoring her closeness as her breaths mingled with yours, her laughter soft and thrilling. Jinx’s lips moved to your neck, pressing heated kisses along your skin as her fingers traced patterns down your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Still sure you’re up for this?” she teased against your ear, her voice barely more than a whisper, filled with both daring and tenderness, her hands roaming, claiming every inch of skin as if she could never get enough.

“Absolutely,” you whispered back, pulling her in closer as the world outside faded to nothing but the heat between you. And in that moment, there was only the two of you, tangled together in the dim light, lost in each other’s touch and the thrill of being exactly where you wanted to be—right there, in her arms.

Jinx’s fingers explored every inch of your skin with a blend of precision and intensity that sent a shiver through you. Her metal hand rested at your waist, the coolness making each touch more vivid, a thrilling contrast against her warmth. Her other hand traced a line up your spine, pulling you closer until you could feel her heartbeat, fast and strong, mirroring your own.

She leaned in, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck you with my new upgrade.” Her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of soft, heated kisses that made you melt under her touch. Her metal hand tightened on your waist, steadying you as your knees went weak, her gaze holding you captive as she grinned, clearly enjoying the effect she had on you.

You slipped your arms around her, fingers tracing the lines of her back, her muscles tensing under your touch. Her mouth returned to yours, this time fiercer, more urgent, as if she was pouring everything she felt into that one kiss. You matched her intensity, letting her press you back against the workbench, your bodies moving together in a perfect rhythm.

Jinx’s metal hand slid up to your side, the cold touch sending a thrill through you, grounding you in the moment even as her other hand moved with care and confidence exploring your breasts. She deepened the kiss, her lips hot against yours, her fingers now tangling in your hair as she held you close. Every touch, every brush of her skin with yours left you breathless and wanting more.

“Guess you’re not so afraid of a little metal after all,” she murmured with a grin, her eyes dark with something deeper, her voice thick with desire.

“Not when it’s you,” you replied, barely able to keep your voice steady, drawing her back to you as the two of you lost yourselves in the electric pull between you.

Jinx’s hands, both flesh and metal, continued their exploration, her fingers tracing patterns that left your skin tingling. Her smile held a daring glint as her hands dipped to your hips, fingers hooking onto the waistband of your jeans. She met your gaze, a mischievous question in her eyes, and when you nodded, she didn’t hesitate.

Slowly, she slid your jeans down, her hands gliding over your thighs as she dropped the fabric to the floor, leaving you exposed to her smoldering gaze. The intensity in her eyes made your pulse race, your breath hitching as she took in every inch of you with a quiet reverence that sent a thrill through you. She stepped back only long enough to tug off her own pants, and when she pressed close again, the feel of her bare skin against yours was intoxicating.

You couldn’t help but pull her closer, wrapping your arms around her as her hands settled on your waist, her metal fingers cool against the heat of your skin, grounding you in the moment. She grinned, her usual playful confidence softened by something deeper as she leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss that left you breathless. Her hands roamed with practiced ease, each touch sending a shiver through you as her mouth moved from your lips to your neck, then lower, to your collarbone, pressing heated kisses along your skin.

The moment you pulled her even closer, the air between you thickened with anticipation. You could feel the heat of her body pressing against yours, the thrum of her heartbeat matching the pulse in your veins.

Her fingers skimmed your waist, sending sparks of sensation wherever they touched. She didn’t rush, taking her time, savoring every second as if she were memorizing the way you felt. Her breath was warm on your neck, sending a delicious tremor through your body.

“God, you’re perfect,” she murmured, voice low and rough, sending an ache through you as her lips found yours again, soft but charged. When you kissed her back, there was a hunger in it—a craving for something deeper. Her tongue met yours, slowly at first, tasting, exploring, before it deepened, pulling you closer as if she couldn’t get enough.

Jinx’s hands glided down your body, her fingertips tracing the curves of your hips before slipping lower to your thighs, igniting a thrill that left you breathless. She paused, her lips hovering as she looked at you, her eyes dark with need, but there was something else there too—something tender, something dangerous in the way she gazed at you.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” she whispered, her voice a heady mix of lust and something raw that made your heart race even faster.

You swallowed, your breath coming faster as she leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I think I’m starting to get it,” you replied, your voice trembling just slightly, betraying the heat building between you two.

Jinx chuckled, a soft, sultry sound that made you shiver. Her hands moved lower in her gaze that was soft, almost vulnerable, like she was savoring this moment as much as you were. The mix of tenderness and hunger in her eyes made your heart race even more than before, if that’s even possible. She leaned in, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, "You sure you're ready for this?"

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper as you replied, "More than ever." The words hung in the air between you, a promise you were both eager to fulfill.

Without another word, Jinx’s hands slid lower, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, sending a wave of heat through your body. She paused again, looking up at you, her gaze seeking permission. You met her eyes, steady and sure, and without hesitation, she leaned in to kiss you again, her lips pressing against yours with a desperation that spoke louder than words.

Her fingers, both warm and cool, massaged your bundle of nerves, her touch a perfect blend of confidence and care, even when she pushed them in you, allowing a loud moan to escape your mouth. As she explored you, your senses heightened, each soft caress sending ripples of pleasure through you. You gripped her waist, pulling her closer as the world around you faded, leaving only the two of you locked in this moment of raw, unfiltered connection.

Every movement, every touch, felt like a dance, a rhythm you both knew instinctively. Jinx’s lips trailed down your neck, her kisses slow and deliberate, each one sending a wave of heat straight to your core, your hips bucking and sweet nosies leaving your mouth.

She smiled against your skin, a wicked grin that made your pulse spike with anticipation. "I love it when you lose control," she murmured, her lips brushing your ear. "Makes me want to take it even further."

You gasped, your body instinctively arching toward hers, urging her on. Her name slipped from your lips in a breathless moan, and that was all the encouragement she needed. her fingers exploring deeper, hitting all the right spots, the mix of warm and cold from her metallic finger inside you made your legs feel like jelly.

Her fingers pushed deeper, and a soft gasp escaped your lips. The combination of her warmth and the sensation of her touch sent a wave of pleasure coursing through you, making your pulse race. Jinx didn’t stop, her movements steady and confident as she sought to draw you even closer to the edge. Her lips parted from your neck, her breath warm and uneven against your skin as she whispered, “You feel incredible.”

The connection between you both electric. She took her time, making sure every moment was felt, every touch adding to the growing intensity between you. Her name escaped your lips once more, barely a breath, and it seemed to spur her on.

Jinx’s eyes met yours, a dark spark of something mischievous in them. “You’re mine,” she murmured, her voice low, sending another shiver down your spine. Her fingers moved with purpose, hitting places you hadn’t even known you craved.

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh, caught somewhere between pleasure and disbelief. “Always,” you managed, your voice thick with need.

The world outside the bubble you shared faded completely, leaving only the two of you, entwined in each other’s presence, moving together in perfect synchrony.

Jinx paused for a moment, her breath ragged as she took in the intensity of the moment, her gaze never leaving yours. Without a word, she lifted you up, her hands gently helping you to sit on top of the workbench.

You felt the cold metal against your ass as she sat you on it, pushing your legs apart so you were perfectly positioned, one of her hands steady as she helped you get comfortable while the other one continues its thrusting, sending a shiver through your body.

Jinx bent a little so that her mouth was right besides your ear, her breath fanning over your skin as she leaned in, her lips brushing your earlobe. "This feels like the perfect spot," she whispered, her voice low and teasing as she pressed herself against you. Her tits meeting yours, the heat of her body undeniable as she took her place between your legs.

"Perfect," she repeated, her lips brushing against your ear as she nipped at the lobe, her fingers working at your hole, sending jolts of electricity through you. "I’ve got you exactly where I want you," she murmured, the palm of her hand massaging your clit.

You could barely catch your breath, every movement of hers driving you crazy with desire. You wanted more—wanted all of her. And Jinx was more than ready to give it to you.

Her lips twitched into a grin as she saw the look on your face, her fingers still dancing against you, pressing you deeper into the moment. “Can’t get enough, huh?” she teased, her voice a low murmur, full of playful arrogance. She shifted her weight slightly, the motion making your body heat up in ways you didn’t know were possible.

The air between you thickened with anticipation, each passing second feeling like an eternity. Jinx’s mechanical hand moved with a fluidity you couldn’t ignore. She paused, giving you a look that was equal parts teasing and uncertain, before slowly pressing her palm against your clit with her fingers still deep inside you.

Everything went still, a moment suspended in silence. Then you felt it—a faint hum, a vibration that seemed to travel from her finger, right into your core. It wasn't just a mechanical shift; it felt like the world’s pulse, steady, and in sync with the beat of your own racing heart.

She smirked, watching your reaction. “How’s that feel?” Her voice was low, filled with something dangerous and playful as her gaze flicked from your face to where her hand lingered.

the vibration echoed through your body, intensifying with each slight movement of her hand, a sensation so intense it sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t hold back a soft gasp, your breath hitching as the sensation became more than just a touch—it felt almost electric, like it was pulling at every nerve in your body.

Jinx’s smirk deepened at your reaction, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Like it?” she asked, her voice dropping lower, almost a growl as she leaned closer, her lips brushing against your ear once again.

You nodded, your body trembling as it arched toward her, a silent plea for more. The vibrations surged again, sending a wave of heat coursing through you, pooling in your lower stomach, igniting something wild inside you. Your fingers curled into the edge of the workbench, your knuckles white as you gripped it, trying to steady yourself.

“It’s... it’s amazing,” you breathed out, your voice trembling with the intensity of it. You met her gaze, eyes wide with desire, your lips parted, whimpers coming out of your throat as the hum of her hand against your skin grew more pronounced, each pulse pressing deeper into you.

Jinx’s grin deepened, her eyes glinting as she reveled in the effect her touch had on you. “I thought you'd like that,” she murmured, her breath hot against your skin. She moved her palm slightly, adjusting her touch, allowing the vibrations to increase in speed, pushing you further into the moment.

The feeling was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. It wasn’t just physical—it was sensory, every inch of your skin acutely aware of the vibrations, the heat of her body pressed against yours. You were lost in it, every pulse, every movement of her mechanical finger drawing you closer to the edge, both mentally and physically.

Her lips were close now, just a whisper away from your neck as she whispered, “Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it happen.”

“Please,I want the more- FUCK!” you couldn't even finish your sentence before her ministrations became more frantic, the vibration growing harder and faster.

You couldn’t help the way your body reacted as the vibrations became more intense, the hum of her mechanical hand resonating deep within you. It was as if she’d tuned into something inside you, something raw and primal that made it hard to think, let alone speak. Your breath hitched again as the sensation surged, sending a rush of heat coursing through you, you let out laud moans to escape your throat.

Jinx’s eyes never left yours, her smirk widening with satisfaction. She could feel your body respond, could see the way you shifted beneath her, wanting more, needing more.

"Is that what you wanted?" she whispered, her voice low, teasing, yet filled with that dangerous edge. "Tell me, what exactly do you need?" Her mechanical fingers tightened slightly, pressing deeper, as if testing your limits.

At first, you couldn’t speak—your chest heaving with every shaky moan, your body caught between pleasure and need. But eventually, you managed to get the words out, your voice trembling, raw with desire.

"More," you gasped, barely able to keep your voice steady. "Please, Jinx... more."

Her eyes flickered with something mischievous, a spark of delight that only made the tension in the room thicker. With a swift, fluid motion, she leaned in closer, whispered again, her breath hot on your skin.

“Desperate, huh? I like that,” she murmured, voice low and playful, words sending a shiver down your spine. She paused, letting the moment hang in the air, her hand still pressing against you, the vibrations now steady but undeniable.

She could tell you were on the edge, and she reveled in it, enjoying the control she had over the situation, over you. But, with a shift in her posture, she moved slightly away from you, breaking the connection just enough to allow you to catch your breath.

"Now," Jinx purred, her eyes glinting with mischief as she leaned back, giving you that signature, dangerous grin. "Tell me again. What do you want?"

You struggled to steady your breathing, her words lingering in the air, making your heart race even faster. The weight of her gaze felt like it was pulling you in, making your skin burn, every nerve alive with anticipation. She was waiting, holding you at the edge, giving you no choice but to beg for more.

"I... I need you," you whispered, your voice barely audible, shaky with the intensity of it all. "Please, Jinx, I can’t take it anymore. I need you... every part of you,” you breathed, the words barely leaving your lips, heavy with desire

Her eyes glinted, a predatory smile creeping onto her lips as she leaned in again, close enough that you could feel the heat of her breath against your face. “That’s what I like to hear,” she murmured, her voice low and silky, the words wrapped in the promise of something dangerous.

Her mechanical hand shifted again, pressing deeper, the hum intensifying as it surged through you, each pulse igniting every nerve in your body, like it was seeping into your very bones. The pressure of her hand against your skin felt almost unbearable, but you didn’t want her to stop. You needed more.

"You’re mine now, you’ve always been mine" Jinx whispered in your ear, her voice thick with both satisfaction and something darker, something that made your pulse quicken even further. She pulled back just slightly, enough to watch you, her eyes dark and full of mischief. “Tell me what you want me to do next,” she purred, her fingers still sending jolts of electricity through your body.

Your body was already aching, the need for her so overwhelming that it was all you could think about. Every part of you screamed for release, for connection. But Jinx wasn’t giving you any space to breathe, and you didn’t want it any other way.

“More,” you gasped again, your voice thick with need. “I need you... right now.”

A low, throaty laugh escaped her lips, and she leaned back in with a smile that made your heart race. "You’ll get what you need... but on my terms."

Jinx’s smirk widened, her eyes sparkling with something dangerously playful as she hovered above you. She could feel the way your body trembled beneath her touch, the way your breath quickened with each passing second. It was as if she had you exactly where she wanted—teetering on the edge, desperate for more.

“You’re so eager,” she murmured, her lips brushing lightly against yours before pulling away just enough to look into your eyes. Her thumb grazed over you clit, sending another rush of heat coursing through every nerve. “I like it.”

Her fingers shifted, the vibrations quickening, more insistent, yet her thumb stayed still. You gasped, your back arching involuntarily, as the heat inside you grew even more unbearable.

“Jinx, please,” you breathed, your voice a mixture of frustration and need. You couldn’t think of anything else anymore, the world reduced to the feeling of her hand, the pulse of her touch, and the hunger for more of her.

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear as she whispered, “Patience, toots. You’ll get it... but first, I want to hear you beg for it.”

A shiver ran through you at the sound of her voice, dark and velvety, as though each word she spoke sent a spark straight to your core. You were trembling now, every muscle tight with anticipation.

“Please,” you repeated, your voice shaking, unable to form anything coherent beyond that desperate plea. You didn’t care anymore—this was all you wanted, and you’d do anything to make her give it to you.

Jinx’s breath hitched at your surrender, and she pulled back just enough to get a good look at you—face flushed, eyes wide with desire, lips parted in need. “You’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” she purred, her voice dripping with both affection and something much darker. “But you still haven’t told me exactly what you want.”

There was a brief, agonizing moment of stillness as her hand paused, the hum dying down just slightly, making you ache for more.

“I want you, Jinx,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I need you to make me feel... everything.”

Jinx’s eyes flashed with triumph, and she leaned down to kiss you deeply, her lips demanding, as if she was finally giving what you both needed. As she deepened the kiss, her thumb started to move slowly, moving your clitoris in circles, sending waves of electricity through your body once again.

The moment Jinx’s lips met yours, the world outside seemed to fade away. Everything was consumed by the intensity of her touch, the warmth of her body pressing against you. It was like a spark igniting a wildfire, every nerve in your body lighting up with the need for more.

Her lips were fierce and demanding, claiming you with a hunger that matched your own. The kiss was messy, full of urgency—her teeth grazing your lower lip as she pulled you closer, her body flush against yours.

But even as she deepened the kiss, she kept her hand where it was, the hum of the vibration slowly building, and her thumb brushing over your clit sending ripples of heat throughout your entire body. It was maddening how much you wanted her, how she had you wound so tight, barely holding it together.

Her breath came in quick, uneven gasps as she pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. She studied you with that dangerous, teasing grin, her lips swollen from the kiss, her chest rising and falling with every breath.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her gaze on you, the heat from her touch radiating through your body. But you needed more.

“Don’t tease me, Jinx,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “I want you... now.”

Her smirk only grew wider at your words, and she leaned in again, her lips brushing your lips as she whispered, “You’ve got me. Just remember, you asked for this.”

And with that, she moved her hand again, the vibrations increasing, sending an intense pulse through you that made your breath catch, her thumb moving faster and harder. You gasped, your hands finding purchase on her hips, gripping her desperately as your body arched towards her.

“You’re so responsive,” she murmured, her voice teasing as her lips traced down your neck, leaving a trail of heat. “I could make you beg for more, but I think you’re ready, aren’t you?”

Your fingers gripped her tightly, the vibrations becoming nearly unbearable, tightening the anticipation in your chest. Every nerve in your body was alive, begging for release. The desire in your eyes mirrored the hunger in hers as you nodded, breathless, unable to form anything else.

“I’m ready,” you whispered.

And just like that, Jinx moved again, every single movement intensified, pushing you toward the edge, both of you lost in the moment, in the desire that was palpable between you.

Her rhythm quickened, every movement sending you spiraling closer until, with a shuddering breath, the pleasure crested, overwhelming you. A cry escaped as your body tightened, lost in wave after wave, pulse racing as Jinx’s touch lingered, grounding you even as the world blurred around.

Your body trembled, small aftershocks rippling through you as you struggled to catch your breath. Jinx’s hand remained steady, grounding you in the haze, her thumb tracing gentle circles that sent tiny jolts of lingering pleasure through you. She watched you, a satisfied grin on her lips, clearly enjoying the way your body reacted to every subtle touch. Even as the intensity faded, your skin remained sensitive, every brush of her fingers drawing out little shivers, keeping you tethered to the sensation long after the peak had passed.

The world slowly came back into focus as Jinx pulled away slowly, her eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. Her touch lingered, leaving a hum in your body, each breath feeling heavier. Her fingers stayed still, a faint, steady pulse mirroring the beat of your heart.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence hanging thick and warm between you. Jinx’s breath was slow, almost unsteady, and you could feel the faint tremble in her fingertips as she picked them out, leaving you breathless and still wanting more. She slipped her fingers into her mouth, slowly drawing them out to trace light patterns across your skin. It was as if she was waiting for you to catch your breath, or perhaps for the moment to settle—either way, you could feel the weight of everything unspoken, the lingering heat of the connection you’d shared.

Her eyes softened, the usual mischief replaced with something quieter, more vulnerable. “You okay?” she asked, her voice quieter now, softer than before. It was a rare moment of care from someone who often lived in the chaos.

You nodded, the intensity of the moment still settling in your chest, and you took a slow, deep breath. The touch of her hand felt grounding, like an anchor that kept you from floating too far away. “Yeah, just... catching up,” you whispered, unable to fully explain the whirlwind of emotions swirling in your chest.

Jinx gave you a small, almost imperceptible smile, the kind that only she could pull off—teasing, but also a little fond, a little more tender. She didn’t move away, her body still close to yours, her fingers lingering on your skin as if she wasn’t ready to break the connection entirely.

She leaned in, her forehead resting against yours for a brief moment, just enough for you to feel the warmth of her skin, the steady rise and fall of her chest against yours. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing you like this,” she murmured, her lips grazing your ear. There was no arrogance in her tone, only a quiet truth.

You smiled softly, your fingers lightly brushing the edge of her jaw. “I think I could say the same.”

And for a while, there was nothing else but the quiet, the two of you wrapped up in each other’s presence. No rush, no urgency—just the softness of the aftermath. The kind of peace that only followed something that felt as real and raw as what you’d just shared.

The air between you both was thick with a new kind of tension, one that felt softer but still undeniably electric. Jinx’s fingers lazily traced patterns on your skin, her touch light but knowing. She could sense the undercurrent of desire that still simmered beneath the calm. The intensity had faded, but that connection was still there, like an unspoken promise.

Her lips brushed against your ear again, this time with a lightness that made your skin tingle. "You sure you’re okay?" she asked, her voice low, almost playful, but there was something deeper in her gaze. “I mean... I’m pretty good at this.”

You could hear the teasing note in her voice, but there was something more to it—a quiet challenge in her words that made your heart race, just like it had when this whole thing started. She shifted slightly, her body pressing closer to yours again, her breath warm against your skin.

“I’m more than okay,” you whispered back, your lips curling into a smile as you met her gaze, knowing exactly where this was heading. “But... I think I’m ready for round two, if you are.”

Jinx’s eyes darkened slightly, that familiar glint returning with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. Her lips parted in a grin, the mischievous spark reigniting, but it was softer now, more controlled. “Round two, huh?” she murmured, her fingers tracing a line down your arm before resting at your waist. “You’re sure you’re not just saying that because I know exactly what you want?”

You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise in your chest, your body reacting to her presence, her words, the closeness. “I want you,” you said, your voice low and steady, a hint of challenge in it now too.

Her grin widened, her eyes tracing your face with a predatory curiosity, as if studying every part of you. "Well then..." She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against yours, her hand sliding down to your waist, pulling you in as she deepened the kiss, slow and deliberate this time. The warmth of her body pressed against yours once more, the vibrations from her hand a steady hum beneath your skin, just enough to tease and tempt.

But this time, it wasn’t just about urgency. There was something more in her touch—a slow burn, a promise of more to come. She pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, her expression both confident and a little softer than usual. “You’ve got me. And if you think you’re ready for more... I’m more than happy to oblige.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication, as her hand rested lightly on your hip, her thumb gently stroking the sensitive skin there. The fire was reigniting, but now it was a steady, controlled burn that left you wanting more.

“Let’s see how much you can handle,” she whispered, her voice a hushed promise, as she pressed her lips to your neck, and you both dove right back into it—closer, deeper, with that undeniable chemistry still crackling between you

The room was quiet now, save for the sound of your breathing, slow and steady. Jinx’s fingers trailed over your skin, her touch almost reverent, as if savoring the moment. Her lips brushed the edge of your ear, soft but with an underlying tension that you could feel deep in your chest.

"Didn't think you'd be this responsive," she murmured, voice low, a touch of surprise in her tone.

You turned your head, meeting her gaze, your fingers lightly grazing her wrist, urging her to stay close. "I told you," you whispered, "I want more."

Her smile was small but knowing, a glint of mischief dancing in her eyes. She leaned down to kiss you again, not as frantic as before, but deeper, lingering. Her hand moved from your side, slowly threading into your hair, holding you gently as she deepened the kiss, as if testing the waters for what came next.

When she pulled back, just enough to look at you, the look in her eyes was different. There was no teasing now, just something raw, almost protective. "You’re not gonna get away so easily," she said softly, her voice carrying that same dangerous edge, but there was a tenderness to it now.

You felt the heat rise between you both again, and even though you both needed a breath, you could sense that the hunger wasn’t quite finished—it was only changing shape. Her fingers traced the curve of your jaw, her lips pressing against your forehead in a sweet, gentle kiss.

For a moment, it felt like everything had calmed, but it wasn’t over. The space between you still buzzed with energy, something unspoken lingering there.

"I’m not going anywhere," you said, your voice steady but thick with desire. "And I don’t think you are, either."

Jinx gave a soft laugh, but it was full of promise. "You know me too well," she replied, her smile now a slow, deliberate curve. “Get comfortable, toots... this isn’t over.”

#jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx x y/n #arcane jinx #jinx/you #jinx x fem!reader #jinx posting #jinx league of legends

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tinyshyteacup · 1 month ago

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Tw: cussing, nudity (not described) tension.

Part 13

Words of Command - Part 14

The lounge at Stark Tower feels too big for just the few of you.

Floor-to-ceiling windows throw pale morning light across the sleek furniture. The scent of strong coffee lingers, blending with the faint metallic tang that always seems to cling to the air here—an invisible reminder of Stark tech woven into the very walls.

You sit on the corner of the couch, tucked in, wearing a soft oversized sweater and Pajamas pants that scuff the floor. Your hair’s still a little messy from sleep, your knees drawn up slightly.

Bucky stands not far from you, stiff and alert, arms folded, his metal fingers twitching occasionally with restless energy.

Tony saunters into the room with Bruce trailing behind him, both holding cups of coffee. Tony’s wearing a worn Black Sabbath T-shirt and smirking like he’s been awake for hours purely to cause problems.

Bruce’s approach is softer.

Careful.

Measured.

Tony’s voice slices through the heavy air.

“Well, Thumbelina and her very large attack dog are awake, so—good morning, kiddos.” He lifts his mug. “Hope you’re feeling refreshed and full of questions you’re too shy to ask, because we’re doing this anyway.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose "Doing what excatly, Mr. Stark?" You say already bracing.

Bruce steps in gently. “We’ve… called in some help. Just in case. If either of you want it.” He gestures vaguely toward the elevator. “From S.H.I.E.L.D. — their best psych and neuro specialists.”

Tony cuts back in before you can speak again.

“And before you start hyperventilating, no, nobody’s here to shove him into a straight-jacket or wire him up like a Christmas tree.”

He slurps his coffee obnoxiously.

“They’re on call. Meaning if you, you adorable trauma magnet feel like, they’ll be around. No pressure. Just better to have options, you know?”

You bite your lip, glancing automatically at Bucky.

He’s still a wall behind you. Eyes cold, scanning the room, his jaw locked tight. His flesh hand balls into a tight fist against his thigh. He doesn’t say anything, but he steps half a pace closer to you, silent, protective.

The elevator pings softly.

Two agents step out onto the lounge floor.

Agent McKenzie is tall, fit, her hair pulled into a tight bun. She has the careful neutrality of someone who has seen too much and knows better than to say anything about it.

Beside her, Agent Collins stands awkwardly, shifting his weight like he wants to disappear into the floor.

And rightly so.

You shrink slightly into the couch instinctively.

Bucky notices—of course he notices—and shifts his stance again, moving so he’s more between you and them.

You barely catch the quick whir of his metal fingers flexing.

McKenzie speaks first, voice calm and clipped.

“Miss. Sergeant Barnes.” She nods respectfully to both of you. “We’re here only if you request assistance. You are under no obligation.”

Collins steps forward and his voice is low, earnest.

“I—I want to apologize.”

His hands wring in front of him. “My behavior last night was completely inappropriate. I don't drink and I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t professional, and it won’t happen again. I swear.”

You glance at him, feeling the awkward sincerity roll off him in waves.

Bucky's eyes narrow into dangerous slits "You like fingers?"

Agent Collins, blinks and goes roughly three shades paler "Pardon ?"

Bucky's body shifts again angled, protective, muscle coiled tight. "Touch her again, you won't have any left"

His flesh hand twitches, half a second from reaching for a weapon he doesn’t have.

You feel the chill of it rolling off him—that lethal stillness before violence.

You touch Bucky’s arm lightly, your hand barely covering part of his forearm.

“Soldat,” you murmur, soft but sure.

Instantly, he responds—relaxing slightly, if only for you. His head dips minutely in acknowledgment, dark hair falling across his forehead.

“Doll,” he says quietly back, as if checking you're truly okay.

He doesn’t look at anyone else. Not McKenzie, not Collins.

Just you.

Only you.

McKenzie senses the tension and wisely steps back, subtly steering a frightened looking Collins with a hand on his arm.

“We’ll be in the east conference room if needed. Just call.”

You nod, whispering a polite "thank you," still perched delicately on the edge of the couch.

The elevator pings again as they leave, the sound somehow louder in the quiet they leave behind.

Tony claps his hands once, breaking the heavy moment.

“Well, that could have gone worse! Nobody died, nobody bled. I’m counting it as a win.”

Bruce just sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

You padded barefoot down the wide hallway of Stark Tower’s residential wing, the polished floors cold against your toes.

It was quieter here—thicker somehow. The hum of JARVIS's systems was a faint, living pulse through the walls.

You found Tony exactly where you knew he’d be In his private living room, sprawled over the couch like a king without a kingdom, a half-drained glass of something expensive on the table, and the faint glow of half a dozen holographic screens circling him.

He glanced up as you approached, arching one eyebrow over the top of his glasses.

“Well if it isn’t the Handler of the Year," Tony drawled lazily, lifting his glass in a mocking salute.

Then, softer, "To what do I owe the pleasure Thumbelina."

You folded onto the armchair opposite him, tucking your knees up against your chest.

Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve.

You bit your lip. Hard.

"I don't want to pressure him," you blurted, voice barely above a whisper. "I mean... he’s trusting me. He’s scared, even if he doesn’t realize it yet. I can’t just... shove him into therapy or surgeries like he’s broken."

Tony set down his glass with a soft clink, swinging his legs off the couch so he could lean forward, elbows on his knees.

“First of all, Dollface,"—he said Bucky's nickname for you with a half-smile, like a shield to hide the real weight behind his words—"we're all broken. Some of us just wear cooler sunglasses while dealing with it.”

You gave a small, helpless laugh, the sound wet with unshed tears.

Tony’s face softened further.

"You’re not wrong, Sunshine," he said seriously. "You’re doing good. Better than most would, honestly."

He dragged one hand through his hair, messing it further. “You’re giving him something no lab coat, no tech, no team of fancy doctors could ever replicate, choice."

You swallowed, nodding.

"I just..." you hesitated, glancing toward the hall where your suite—and Bucky—waited. "The intracranial device Bruce built... it’s working. It’s really working. His vitals are more stable after sessions. It’s like it’s dampening the trauma spikes before they get too high. But I know—if we push too hard—"

You trailed off, twisting your hands together.

Tony leaned back, exhaling through his nose.

"The neural device is a masterpiece," he said, not bragging for once. "Banner did good. You two together? Even better. Science project aside, it’s stabilizing him, but it’s not fixing the wiring. That’s...long-haul territory."

He rapped his knuckles lightly on the table for emphasis.

"Bottom line it could help. A lot. Regain memories. Rebuild pathways. Maybe even speed up how fast he gets back to, y'know, human programming instead of KGB Murderbot 2.0. But..." Tony pointed at you sharply.

"It doesn't replace the human element, your doing your best, but these guys ... there the Pros. And besides the choice is his. Or yours until he’s clear-headed enough to know what he wants."

You looked down at your hands, overwhelmed by the weight of it.

Tony’s voice dropped a little, more gentle than you’d ever heard it.

"You’re doing right by him, Sunshine," he said, teasing but earnest. "You’re giving him a life he wouldn’t have dared hope for. You keep doing that. One tiny step at a time. And just consider the back-up, as excatly what it is ... an option."

You blinked fast against the burning in your eyes.

Tony noticed, of course, because he cared more then he let on, he always had.

With a gruff clearing of his throat, he stood up, smoothing down his rumpled shirt like nothing emotional had happened at all.

"If you need me," he said over his shoulder as he walked off toward the elevators, "I'll be upstairs... pretending not to care but totally ready to knock some sense into Robocop if needed."

You smiled into your sleeve once he was gone.

That evening you padded from your bedroom into the lounge of your suite, cotton pajamas soft and cosy on your body.

Bucky sat rigidly on the wide leather couch, elbows braced on his knees, staring blankly at the floor.

You stopped in the doorway, heart twisting.

Even from here, you could see the tremor in his shoulders, the way his flesh hand clenched and unclenched uselessly in his lap.

The metal one stayed utterly still, gleaming dully under the recessed ceiling lights.

He didn't react when you entered.

But when you spoke—soft, cautious—his head snapped toward you like a trained dog hearing its master’s voice.

“Soldat...you doing ok ?"

His pale blue eyes locked onto yours instantly.

Recognition.

Relief.

Something like apology.

“Doll,” he rasped, voice hoarse, frayed at the edges.

He seemed... smaller, somehow.

Like the room was crushing him.

You crossed the space carefully, crouching low so you were eye-level with him.

"Talk to me?" you murmured, tilting your head.

He gave the barest nod, metal fingers twitching again.

His breathing was too shallow.

Too fast.

"They look wrong," Bucky said quietly, voice low and stilted. "The men. The agents. Same as...before."

He didn’t need to say it.

HYDRA.

You swallowed, nodding.

"Okay," you said softly, reaching out—but stopping short, letting him choose. "Let me help?"

Bucky hesitated.

Just for a heartbeat.

Then his flesh hand lifted in a stiff, almost mechanical movement, palm open, waiting.

You placed your hand against his, feeling the way his fingers closed almost desperately around yours.

You led him gently toward the bathroom.

Stark Tower suites didn’t do small bathtubs this was a sunken pool, deep enough to drown in.

Dim, warm lights cast a golden glow over the room.

The faucet filled the space with the soft rush of water, steam beginning to curl into the air, carrying the faint scent of the lavender bubble bath you added for his modesty.

Bucky hovered at the threshold like he wasn’t sure he deserved to step inside.

You turned back, beckoning him.

"Come on, Soldat," you said softly, using the name he remembered. "It might help you relax ?."

A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he obeyed instantly.

Silent.

Trusting.

You found the compact mirror—the one you always have on hand—and placed it carefully on a little stand beside the tub.

Angled perfectly so Bucky could watch you without needing to turn.

Control.

Making sure he knows your giving it not taking it.

“See?” you said gently, tapping the mirror. “You can see me the whole time.”

Bucky nodded once, stiffly, shedding his henley without a word.

Your breath caught.

It was the first time you'd seen the scarring up close— angry welts around where flesh met metal, like the arm had been jammed into him, an afterthought of cruelty rather than a miracle of engineering.

Although there couldn't be a miracle if there wasn't consent.

You knelt beside the bath as he slid into the water, the liquid rippling up around his scarred, battered frame.

He stayed still, breathing deeply, as if forcing his body to loosen muscle by muscle.

Carefully, you dipped a cup into the water and poured it gently over his hair.

You moved slow, delicate, like you might spook him.

“Doll," he murmured, voice so low you barely caught it.

Affection bleeding into the single word.

You smiled at the mirror, knowing he was watching your every move.

The bathroom was warm now, heavy with the sweet, herbal scent of lavender.

The mirror beside the tub glinted softly in the low light, casting a muted reflection of the two of you him in the bath, sitting upright but loose for once, you kneeling beside him, sleeves rolled up, fingers delicate and sure.

Bucky watched you through the mirror like he might forget you were real if he blinked.

You dipped the little cup into the water again, scooping it up carefully, and then—slow, steady—you poured it over his hair.

The water streamed down in thin, shining ribbons over his temples.

He didn't flinch.

Just sat there, jaw tense but not pulling away.

You set the cup aside, reaching for the bottle of shampoo you'd tucked nearby.

"Soldat..." you murmured as you lathered the shampoo between your hands, soft and soothing, "You can tell me if it’s too much. Anytime. Okay?"

A long pause.

Then a nod.

You massaged the shampoo gently into his scalp, fingertips gliding over his wet hair, careful not to tug or scrape.

The lather built slowly, pale bubbles sliding down the back of his neck and shoulders.

Bucky closed his eyes.

"Feels nice," he rasped, voice almost too low to hear.

You smiled a little to yourself, unseen.

Gentle, small strokes.

No sudden movements.

Giving him every second to object.

"You have good hair," you said, tone light, teasing.

His mouth twitched.

Not a smile exactly.

More like... confusion.

He cracked an eye open, looking at you through the mirror.

"No one's ever said that," he muttered after a beat.

"Well, they should have," you said simply, working the soap through the longer strands at the base of his skull.

Your fingers brushed scars at his neck and you felt the whole, solid bulk of him stiffen—

but then he took a slow breath and forced himself to relax again.

Because it was you.

Because you weren't going to hurt him.

You shifted closer without thinking, pressing your knees into the soft rug beside the tub, leaning over him protectively.

It made your frame look even smaller against his broad shoulders, his imposing body—and yet, somehow, it was him who seemed fragile here.

"Hey" you murmured with a smile when his eyes met yours.

"Hey Doll" his lips twitched as he said it, his flesh hand reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear for you.

When you tipped his head back slightly to rinse, he obeyed closing his eyes again.

Water cascaded through his hair again, washing the suds away.

"You’re really good at this," he said hoarsely after a long silence.

You blinked, cheeks warming.

"It's not hard," you said shyly. "You just...you just be ... gentle, and don't pour water straight into people's eyes."

Bucky's reflection caught yours in the mirror.

A crease appeared between his brows—

a soft, bewildered frown.

"Nobody...was ever gentle before," he said, voice a rough scrape of sound.

Your heart cracked right down the center.

You squeezed out the water from his hair carefully, combing it back from his forehead with your fingertips.

"Well they were wrong," you said, fiercely tender.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Just stared.

Like he was trying to memorize you.

Like if he looked hard enough, he might understand what was happening to him—

why he didn't want to leave your side, why he felt something aching inside his ribs when you smiled.

You picked up the brush next.

The bristles slid through his damp hair in slow, steady strokes, each pass smoothing it down.

You worked methodically, murmuring nonsense under your breath

"Almost done... You're doing good, Soldat..."

He tilted his head slightly at that—

not much, just a bare lean of trust toward you.

In the mirror, he watched your hand moving through his hair.

Watched your careful touch.

Watched the way you looked at him, not with fear, not with pity, but with care.

Something in him shuddered—

a ripple under the surface.

He didn’t understand it.

Didn’t understand why your voice steadied the thudding pulse in his ears.

Why your hands didn’t make him flinch.

Didn’t understand why, when you said, "There we go," setting the brush aside and smoothing your palms over his hair like you were grounding him to the earth,

he wanted to turn around,

wanted to pull you close and press his forehead to your belly,

wanted to stay like that forever.

Instead, he said the only thing he could manage:

"Thank you, Doll."

Rough.

Sincere.

Like a prayer.

You cupped his cheek briefly in your hand, thumb brushing his stubbled jaw, your touch feather-light.

"Anytime, Soldat," you whispered back.

He leaned—just slightly—into your palm before catching himself, like it startled him to want the contact.

But you didn't pull away.

You just smiled that soft, achingly sweet smile of yours.

And Bucky—

whatever was left of him—

felt something unfamiliar blooming slowly, painfully in his chest.

Hope.

You begin to stand, ready to grab a towel for him.

"I'll let you finish up while I—"

You don't get to complete your sentence. In one fluid motion, his arms—one warm flesh, one cool metal—reach out and wrap around your waist.

Before you can process what's happening, he's pulling you backward into the tub with him.

Splash

Warm water envelops you as you tumble in. Your surprised squeal echoes around the bathroom as water sloshes over the sides, pooling on the floor.

Your pajamas cling to you instantly, completely soaked.

"Soldat!" you gasp, half-laughing as you find yourself awkwardly positioned in the tub, your back against his chest, his legs on either side of yours.

His arms adjust around you, secure but gentle.

"Don't go yet, Doll."

You can't help it—a bubble of laughter escapes your lips. "What the hell?"

A half-smile forms on his face, a playful glint in his blue eyes that you've only recently begun to see.

The absurdity of the situation—you fully clothed in his bath, both of you soaking wet—only makes you laugh harder.

The remaining tension in his shoulders melts away, and his smile widens slightly—still hesitant, as if he's relearning the expression, but genuine.

"Didn't want you to leave yet," he explains, his voice softer than usual. "Feels... right. Having you close."

"I was just going to get you a towel," you say exasperated, but making no move to get up.

He nods, satisfaction evident in the way his arms settle more comfortably around you. The warm water envelops you both, your pajamas floating slightly around you.

You find yourself relaxing against him, feeling his heartbeat—steady and strong—against your back.

"You okay?" you ask, looking up at him.

Bucky's expression turns thoughtful, brow furrowing slightly as he searches for the right words. "Things are getting clearer," he finally says. "More pieces fitting together. Still gaps, but..."

"Progress?" you finish for him with an encouraging smile.

You sit together in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the occasional drip from the faucet and your synchronized breathing. The warm water creates a cocoon of intimacy around you both.

Your fingers drift to his chest where his dog tags rest against his bare skin.

They catch the light as they rise and fall with his breathing. You hadn't noticed him putting them on.

"Why did you put these on?" you ask softly, lifting the tags slightly so they catch the light. "Last time..."

You don't finish the sentence. You both remember—the tags triggering a violent episode, Bucky's metal arm reducing Tony’s coffee table to splinters.

Bucky's flesh hand comes up to cover yours where you hold the tags.

His touch is more confident than the hesitant way he used to reach for you, as if he's growing more comfortable with contact.

"Wanted to remember," he says, his voice low and close to your ear. "Finding more pieces. Not everything. But more than before."

His metal arm remains secure around your waist, the plates shifting slightly as he adjusts his position, water sloshing around you both.

"Wanna tell me what you remembered ?," you encourage, turning your head slightly to see his face.

Bucky's eyes focus somewhere distant, looking beyond the bathroom walls. "Steve," he says, more certainty in his voice than before. "Smaller then. Before the serum. Gave me something before I shipped out."

You nod encouragingly. "What did he give you?"

Bucky's brow furrows in concentration, but the frustration that usually accompanies these memories is muted. "Picture. Him and me. Said to keep it with the tags."

His breathing remains steady, a sign of progress. "Lost the picture during... after the fall. Steve ... he had the tags."

You watch the play of emotions across his face—recognition now outweighing confusion, determination replacing frustration. The pieces are coming together more smoothly than before.

"Steve ..." you say gently. " ...he just wants to help."

Bucky nods slowly. "I know. He's..." His voice is still small. "My friend."

"Yea, your friend," you confirm with a smile. "Like I'm your friend."

Bucky's eyes meet yours, suddenly intense and focused. "No," he says with unexpected certainty. "Different. Steve is... friend. Brother, maybe." He pauses, struggling to articulate the distinction. "You're... something else."

Your heart beats a little faster at the intensity in his gaze. You continue playing with the dog tags, the chain sliding between your fingers. "What am I then?"

His flesh hand comes up to brush a strand of wet hair from your face, the gesture achingly tender. "Doll," he says, the Brooklyn accent strong in that single word, his voice deeper than usual.

The nickname sends a shiver through you that has nothing to do with the water temperature. It's more than just a word—it's a glimpse of the man he was and is becoming again—charming, protective, affectionate in his own way.

Water has begun to slosh over the sides of the tub from your unexpected entry. The bathroom floor is getting soaked, but Bucky seems more relaxed than you've seen him before, almost content despite the situation.

"We should probably get out before we flood the suite," you suggest with a gentle laugh.

His arms tighten briefly around your waist. "Whatever you say, Doll." The words hold a hint of teasing now, the rigid protocol of the Soldier giving way to something warmer, more human.

"I'm not giving orders," you remind him softly.

"I know," he replies, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "Just like having directions sometimes. Old habits."

As you grab towels from the rack, Bucky runs a hand through his wet hair, pushing it back from his face.

"Why do you call me Soldat?" he asks suddenly, the question catching you off guard.

"You asked me too."

Bucky nods slowly, understanding. "But now? You know my name."

"I do," you acknowledge softly.

His expression softens. "Yeah, been thinking about names lately. Who I was. Who I am now."

"And who are you?" you ask gently, stepping closer.

His blue eyes meet yours, clearer and more present than you've ever seen them. "Still figuring that out. But..." he hesitates, searching for words, " don't want to be what they made me."

"No, You're so much more than that."

Bucky's gaze drifts to the dog tags still hanging around his neck. "These say James."

"That's your name. James Buchanan Barnes."

His eyes find yours again. "What do you want to call me?"

The question hangs between you, weighted with meaning beyond just a name. You step closer, gently taking the dog tags in your hand again.

"It's not about me, what feels right to you?" you ask, looking up at him, acutely aware of how small you feel standing before his towering frame.

His flesh hand closes over yours where you hold the tags, warm and steady. "Bucky," he says after a moment. "... it feels like ... it could be me."

You smile up at him. "Bucky it is, then."

"Can I keep calling you Doll ?" he asks hesitantly like hes a man starved and your going to take his steak.

"Yea, of course you can Sol— Bucky" you say with a warm genuine smile.

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k-aemi · 2 months ago

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blue lock ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ doctors note.

obsessive behavior, a bit erotic but no smut, self-harm, use of force, multiple mental illnesses exposed, some mischaracterization but its for the plot pls forgive me :<, traumatic events(?)

a/n: haii so this might not be accurately correct im no expert in this category but if you guys catch any mistakes ive made pls tell me thru asks or message me ^^ id like to improve anything and fix.

this is part 1! i will be writing more if you guys like it

for context youre a psychiatrist that works by yourself....kind of. its sort of a family business owned thing. but youre the main worker with the degree, your family was just there to assist you with checking in patients and cleaning around the small facility you owned.

though, it did seemed youd have to relocate else where, you were barely getting patients because of the unknown location you were at, and judged from the outside. just because your place was small doesnt mean you sucked! you were top of medical school!

just on a random day you get over 10+ appointments. you werent sure if someone had mis-clicked and meant to only add one. but there were a list of names, and all their information...

you werent even sure what to do, you dont think youve gotten this many patients at the same time before, possibly 3 at best and that was all.

the one who even assigned all of them to you was some person named Ego Jinpachi. youve heard of him, hes one of the workers of blue lock wasnt he? that football facility not too far from your place. youve found out hes bringing in football lunatics whos suddenly lost their minds. he says if you can, keep them confined in here until theyre able to function properly. this isnt the mental asylum!

he told you hes only chose this one because of the lost of money due the change of behavior in his players, investors soon losing the interest in investing in blue lock. he only has so much to spend.

so he asks you, which of course youll get two percent of what blue lock makes as soon as his players are back in top notch shape, which will make blue lock shine again.

you have no choice but to accept, this is your job anyways! its time to show your full potential!

patient #1: isagi yoichi.

checking in on isagi yoichi. who is dealing with severe anxiety. as hes constantly overcoming obstacles to try and exceed his performance, success and ability to meet beyond expectations. this always leads to him overthinking and anxious in high pressure situations.

he must becomes the best, but he fears falling behind his peers. he sets these expectations himself. his anxiety could worsen if hes pushing himself too hard, he wont be able to take care of himself for the future.

poor boy, always comparing himself with the geniuses surrounding him, he self-doubts himself, he thinks if he cant live up to their level, he cant be number one. he wants to be the best, he wants someone to recognize his talent in order to keep his drive to become number one striker. even an ounce of feeling ignored by the dominant players on field, he doubts his worth in football.

he was only the stepping stone to evolve rin and kaiser? he hates it. it feels like hes left alone in the dark. he wants to be the best, even with his best efforts, he cant do it! only there to unlock others potentials...but what about his?

getting to know him better, you fully understand as he warms up to you. you know the feeling of being left out, having that passion but never recognized for what youre worth for. he looks so drained and you feel so bad about it, for a doctor you feel like you get more sentimental than your patients.

he thinks youre always so patient with him, you would never pry into him forcing how he feels, or force positive thoughts into him. you patiently guide him through it and makes sure to take it step by step. sharing methods that could help with the anxiety.

your voice is so soft and youre not too much for him to handle. he thinks your presence is calming and warm, like he can forget all of his problems with you in there. every time you see a little improvement in his anxiety, youre always there to validate him. you just think with the praises, itd help motivate him!

oh and it does. to the point he lives for your validation. he thinks its a change of pace since youre no competitor from blue lock. he thinks of you as a safe space. you listen to him with no judgement, even when he thinks his diagnosed anxiety was for a stupid reason.

you view him not just as an athlete, but someone with emotions and vulnerabilities. he thinks thats the charm of you. he doesnt even notice it himself, but he starts to depend on you to make sure he doesnt feel rejected from society.

whenever youd come into his room to ask your daily questions, hes always asking further "are you happy im doing well..?" just to hear your sweet praises fall into his ears. hes love to hear it from you. thats his only source of living comfortably right now.

"yes 'm so happy 'ichi! im so excited to see you back onto the fields!" you clasped your hands together. the way the nickname rolls off your tongue makes him feel hes important to you, normally when someones important to someone, they love them right? you love him dont you? just as much as he does?

"[name..] you care about me right...? like a lot?" hed randomly ask you when youre checking up on him. it was very out of no where considering you were talking about the very famous franchise kamen rider shows. "hm? yeah care about you s'much!" you flashed your sweet smile at him.

your presence feels so warm...he...he wonders what its like for lovers to kiss is like, which is what he assumes you are to him. he cups your cheeks, staring intensely at your lips. youre a tad confused, you wondered if he just wanted to grab hold of something. not until you see him lean him and your eyes widened. coming back to your senses, you hands came in between your lips and his, stopping the kiss.

isagi can only look so confuse. what are you doing? youre his lover arent you? he can kiss you. why are you refusing him? his affection? are you rejecting him?

"i-ichi...what are you doing..?" you awkwardly back up and you see his gaze darkened. "this is what lovers do right...? we have to kiss. or are you rejecting me like everyone else does. am i just a background character to your story too?!" he lashes out on you.

"no no-what-lover..?" you should of perhaps saw this coming, in some rare cases it happens. your trance of thoughts were interrupted when isagi knocks down the vase on his nightstand.

"fuck-! knew it. fucking knew it. youre just toying with me too huh? youre rejecting me." he growls. the vase shatters you hurriedly try to pick up the pieces, youre scared isagi might try to hurt himself with these shards, if you dont take action fast, hell do it, so youll pick it up with hand first, the broom is kind of far and if you come back to him in a worsened condition, it can only lead to the bad.

you cut yourself on accident and you hissed at the pain. isagi immediately notices, grabbing hold of your finger...looking at it intently.

"u-uh ichi..?" you try to retreat your hand from him, but his gaze leaves you fazed. those eyes of his were so scary. isagi licks the blood that spills from your finger and licks it tenderly. sucking on the digists, tasting your precious blood which he thinks is sacred.

"i love you so much [name]...you feel the same way dont you..?"

patient #2: bachira meguru.

focusing on bachira meguru. a bit energetic...well thats probably an understatement, he really is energetic. studying him for a while it seems he has borderline personality disorder.

bachira who longs for deep connections may connect to fear of abandonment. he always struggled with loneliness and was always called weird by the other kids. as a coping mechanism, it led to him creating his "monster" he talks about to deal with the isolation hes faced.

he has an intense fear of being alone, even if its all in his head, he hates it. hes really dependent and have a strong sense of attachments to certain indivduals, just like isagi. he saw isagi as a crucial part to his well-being, knowing he can play football with him, hes like him, he has a monster too.

he yearns for someone to understand him. creating a sense of acceptance and validation from others. if he cant play football with anyone else, who else can but his monster..?

he doesnt even know who he is, he relies on others to define himself. just like how he relies on isagi a lot. whenever he sees isagi becoming more independent in his plays, he feels left behind because he thinks thered be no one else to play with him. :(

without the monster inside of him, he doesnt know how else to see himself. hes sees himself within that monster, without it, he struggles to find his true self.

whenever you come to visit him, hes always mentioning the monster to you. saying he wants to play, but you must help him get better first so he can succeed without the monster!

of course, you always ask him about the monster, you want to slowly try and make him self aware he can build other connections than his inner monster. you try to understand what triggers or triggered this abandonment, and when he tells you, you start to tear up on the inside!

you tell him to jolt down whenever he feels lonely or abandoned. or when his monster appears, what does it say? what does it do to him? giving him a little journal and a cute little pen with a sunflower on top to match his golden locks that touch the tips.

"you can tell me anything in this journal ok?" you flashed a smile at him. and he finally feels like youre the only one who understands him and this monster. honestly, if you were trying to make him to stop depending on the monster, hell just depend on you instead, thats the only reasonable thing to do right?

he sees you as a special person he doesnt want to lose. youre always so caring and give him the comfort he needs when he crys in the middle of night, saying he just feels so alone, he needs you to be there for him :(

hes never had this sort of comfort before aside from his mom. but having you and going through the process with it, he thinks this is what love feels like. he was always too silly to form a crush on anyone, or to even get a girlfriend, but with you by his side, this was definitely the love he yearned for, you understood him better than anyone. youre the only one for him.

he thinks whenever you visit him, its like going on a date! youre always coming in looking so pretty (you dont even have makeup on and youre in casual clothing www) for him and you look so happy to talk to him just as much as he does, he loves his doctor girlfriend<3

you dont even realize hes falling in love with you. you just think its his playful manner and excitement! youre so naive. what the hell did you mean you didnt know when he told you "you know if you werent my doctor id totally make you mine! kidding.." sticking out his tongue, hes so silly you just laugh.

sometimes hed randomly text you things outside of professional settings if you werent available right now, either out food shopping or helping out family matters. not that you mind, but itd be super random. "i drew two dogs. its us! :D”

even when hed say some "weird" things you suppose, something along the lines of him complaining why you have other patients. he tells you to just tend to him! you can only raise your eyebrow in confusion. "you do know its my job right?" you giggled a bit. "mmm... dont care. youre my doctor. and i hate sharing."

bachira always comes up to hug you first thing when you open the door to his room, he hears your footsteps from the hallway so he just stands to the side and jump at you when you enter in.

"[name]!!!" he nuzzled against your neck, the thud was so loud you think your sister probably heard it like 3 rooms away. his head rested above your chest as he rubbed his face on it, holding you tight around the waist.

"megu...stop doing that! im gonna get a head concussion one day!" you playfully bonk his head and he let out a soft grunt. he only giggles before inhaling your scent. god he loved this smell, it was at least better than the smell of antiseptics and disinfectants, it made his head hurt a bit.

"but missed you s'much.." he pouts. how did you not see the signs? you let out a content sigh, flashing a smile to him before patting his head, ruffling his hair. "sorry sorry, i was really busy. lets get you checked up yeah?" he nods eagerly. getting up to help you by handing his hand out, you grabbed it as he pulled you up. you never really realized how tall he was, judging by looks, he doesnt even look that tall!

but your trance of thoughts is immediately interrupted by a soft pair of lips on your cheek. did bachira just...? you back away, rubbing the part he kissed.

"im so excited for our date! were gonna talk lots and lots of things!" he grips your wrist, dragging you to the stool next to his bed. but you didnt budge an inch.

"hmm whats wrong? why do you look so upset?" he leaned closer to you but you back away. he notices this and doesnt take it so lightly.

"why are you avoiding me now..? do you think im weird? do you see me as a monster?" he starts to overthink it, as he clenches onto your shirt with a pained look. whats with this sudden demeanor?! you were never like this...so why now? was it the kiss? he thought you loved him so he thought you wouldnt mind!

"of course not megu...but you really cant just-" youre interrupted with a kiss on the lips. he didnt want to hear it. he was too dependent on you already, and youre gonna leave him like you guys had nothing? like you didnt have a single ounce of feelings for him either?! hes furious. how could you.

"dont leave me now [name]...please...i need you."

patient #3: chigiri hyoma.

onto the next model-uh patient. chigiri hyoma. seriously did he come from blue lock? he looks like a model with that beautiful hair of his. you accidentally mistook him for a woman! recording his actions and behaviors, you assume he suffers from ptsd, or post-traumatic stress disorder.

you found out that he had a acl tear and it was a traumatic event he just cant seem to forget, it nearly destroyed and shattered his dreams of being the best striker. sure he recovered, but this shaped his behavior and caused him emotional distress.

he was most confident in his speed, and for it to just be taken away from him again makes him scared. it would mean losing who he was as a player. stripping away that confidence and sense of security. poor baby.

hed never told anyone about this event. making it even hard to process having to bottle up is fears. even with his body healed, his mind didnt, still facing the fear and hesitation. :(

that traumatic event always replay back in his mind, and the words of his doctors still echoed inside of his head. hearing those devastating words that of he were to tore his acl again, his career of a soccer player is over.

whenever out on the field he gets the image of the injury happening, which he hesitates to show his full potential. whenever hed see someone to fall or hurt their knee, he cant help but feel that trigger, causing fear. it reminds him of what had happened and he cant escape from it.

just even thinking about running full speed, he hesitates and starts to hyperventilate. he gets so scared, he doesnt want to quit, he wants to keep playing! it gets so bad to the point hed have to be switched out with another person.

all he can do is run away from his fear, he wants to protect himself in order to keep playing. but how can he keep it up if his speed is what defined him? he wants to, but hes too scared of the risk.

he sees his strength in his speed. without it, hes nothing. hes nothing worth more than lead. he hated the feeling. the feeling of being weak, the feeling of being so scared. he hates himself. with his hesitation, he cant help but always feel like hes dragging his teammates down.

because youre his doctor and not one of the blue lock competitors, he thinks it might be alright to just fill you in, but he ended up telling you everything, and how he felt. he even cried, knowing he was weak after he lost his sense of self.

you sob listening to his story. youre determined to make him feel like he will be the best without having to worry! youre the first person hes ever told anyone outside his family. you give him the reassurance youll never tell a single soul about what happened to him.

to start off you think itd be best if you can help change his mindset! you help him challenge the negative thoughts that may occur in his head with confidence! "sure your speed is your gift, but its not the only thing that defines you! you need to remember just because it happened once, it wont happen again!"

hes never even thought of it like that, this whole time all he could think about is how hell destroy his body, and that stops him from showing his full potential.

you guide him through training to increase his comfort with getting used to full speed movements to boost his confidence his knee is strong and the past wont control him anymore! you give him some methods and techniques on to calm his anxiety before matches so that he wouldnt be so hesitant anymore.

you hope hed focus on the present, than cling onto the repeat of the past.

knowing youre the first person to know about his knee, you understand the weight of his trauma and you see past the talent he was gifted, he was more than just a speedy person! thats what he enjoyed about you. he feels like youre his safe space.

he gets these stir of feelings, hes confused on what it is. it happened when you told him..."you dont have to prove anything to me! whether you run or not, youre still the chigiri hyoma i know" followed by a giggle. what...what was this burning sensation in his chest. he cant wrap a finger around it.

he feels like around you, he can show his most vulnerable state. whether hes crying, angry, or scared. he can show it all to you without feeling judged. that always led to him wanting to seek your reassurance all the time. outside of football, he can be himself if youre around.

he loved how you were able to help him overcome his fears, even if it took a while, all throughout his whole years of liviing he was able to feel better about himself. due to his avoidant ways, he feels such a deep connection with you, causing him to think, maybe this is the feeling of love. he may thinks its admiration but he shrugged that feeling. its definitely love.

he starts to take mental notes of the little things you like or do. oh you prefer to use the air fryer than oil fry your food? its noted. you like to pick out the tomatoes from your burgers because you think the texture is gross? hes got it down. you like this certain movie at this specific time? you know it.

he loves your approval. everything you say to him puts in a trance really but he specifically loves whenever you help train his knee, seeing his progress, you tell him, "im so proud of you hyo!" his heart will always skip a beat.

he thinks the only patient you should tend to is him. i mean...you look like you enjoy his presence a lot, it means youre his favorite right? thats what he sees at least. so whenever youd leave his room, hed just mutter under his breath. "arent i better than them..?" with his furrowed eyebrows.

he knows the rules, he cant be a patient that falls in love with his doctor, but can you blame him? youre so caring and nice to him, its such a reliever from all of the egoists from blue lock. you dont think hed at least build some sort of dependency on you?

"alright hyo! im so happy youre recovering, i know its a long process but just some progress is a lot!" clasping your hands together to show your happiness. he knows its genuine, i mean you cant fake a smile like that. its so warm...youre like the sun to him.

"[n-name]...." he suddenly called out to you as he was sat on the edge of his bed, gripping onto the sheets with fear. he wants to tell you how he feels. i mean, you could potentially have feelings for him too right? theres no way a doctor is this nice to their patients unless theres one reasonable explanation. you like him too.

"yes hyo?" you didnt look up from your clipboard, jolting down some notes and writing some important details. you can hear some slight hesitation in chigiris words. but didnt really pay no attention to it.

"please just...listen...i..think...no scratch that..i know i have feelings for you." he would rub the back of his neck, slowly trailing his gaze from the ground to your eyes. he hated being vulnerable but for you, and for this opportunity, he couldnt waste it. he loved you so much.

you can only just stare at him dumbfounded, your pen dropping to the floor. you didnt expect him to openly express his feelings. you didnt even think he would have feelings for you. he most of the time had a stoic face to him, it was kind of hard to read him, but you still got through him.

you struggle to say the words you want to say. youre an extreme people pleaser and youd hate to hurt another patients feelings. "im glad youre aware hyo, but as your doctor, its a built on trust on your healing process. if i crossed that line, id be failing you. i wont dismiss or disregard your feelings like its nothing, youre important to me and i care deeply about you." you frown at him and you can see his eyes lower as his lips quivered.

you figured hed try and undestand, but he just persist, and it maybe fueled his anger. "so...thats it? just because...of some fucking stupid rule? is this your excuse? just fucking tell me you dont love me. at least make an exception! for me!" he lashed out and you kind of get scared. youve never seen him raise his voice at you. he hyperventilates as he continues with his fuel.

"you cant just tell me, just because youre my doctor...youre telling me we didnt have a thing going on? because it sure as hell didnt feel that way. i cant just pretend youre werent the only person who truly understood me! tell me...how to do that." he walked up to you, hovering over your figure.

you didnt dare to look at him, knowing youd be met with his cold gaze. you just bit your lip and clutched your clipboard in anticipation. until he took hold of your shoulders leaning down to your level and meet your eyes.

"fucking tell me [name]!" his eyebrows furrowed as his teeth grit. youre so scared, you feel threatened, but youre not sure what to do, hes much stronger than you. theres nothing you can do in this situation.

when he sees your trembling figure, he loosen his grip on you and sighed. hesitantly wrapping his arms around your neck when he sees you wince a bit. he soften a bits before letting out a content sigh.

"'m so sorry...didnt mean to... i love you, you know that...?"

patient #4: itoshi rin.

the brother of itoshi sae, itoshi rin. you could of swore you treated to itoshi sae once. but thats for another story. judging by his actions, you think hes suffering from depression.

this patient sure was a bit difficult. he rarely talks about his feelings. instead its mostly hatred he expresses it as. hes always talking to himself, "its not enough.." repeatedly you dont even know if hes aware youre still in his presence.

when he wants to get away from the suffering, he fixates on sae. he hates the way sae just did him like that, seriously his only goal was to play football to become the second best aside sae. now he wanted to change? he doesnt matter in saes life anymore? how could he. how fucking dare he.

he cant express his sadness so easily. even if he tried to, it turns into anger, lashing out on others. but he doesnt mean it, it just happens. he doesnt mean to push others way.

hes so harsh on himself, he thinks every loss granted feels like a personal failure, making him hate himself even more. when you had first tried to help him, he could only scoff to himself. "dont ask me stupid questions." you kind of cried from that harsh tone but dealt with it (www).

hes always keeping his distance. hes so focused on winning, he barely express genuine joy and rarely smiles. but its not like he wants to. he wants to prove himself the best of the best, after what had happened with his big brother. hes terrified of being betrayed again. he cant just let people walk into his life, just to be betrayed.

he will never allow himself to feel good enough. every failure and loss of his will only increase his self-loathing. he pushes himself, pass his limit, to the point hes at the passing out point. but he must do what he must, hell never rest. you know his excessive training? he thinks for not being strong enough hell punish himself with it. thats why hes so well built.

hell never waste time, meaning he runs to little to no sleep. how could he when he has people to exceed. he must train harder than ever before, push his limits. when you question why he does that he gives you an annoyed glance. (makes you cry on the inside) "only the weak rest. i dont have time for that."

he cant ever forget that night. how could he? its a wound hes not able to stich up. rin hates sae, but on the look of his eyes, he yearns for saes validation. it only fuels when he praised isagi. shattering rins heart. he cant stand it anymore.

no matter how much he can do, hell never be better than sae, he never feels enough. he thinks the reason why sae is gone is because hes too weak, it hurts, it really fucking does.

though rin was a difficult patient to get a hold of, you never had the thought to give up, everyone has their breaking point, even for someone like rin. youd be so patient with him, even if it felt like everyday was a failure to try to get him to open up.

rin hates how persistent you are. he hates being vulnerable towards others. but you never shut up do you? why cant you just give up. but this feels all too familiar. still persistent yet no where close to the main goal. he can only punch the wall, leaving a hole in the room hes assigned in.

you think the most effective way to help him was to challenge his toxic thought patterns by questions. "if you think losing makes you worthless, why do people respect those who lose but improve?"

rin can only halt for a moment and rethink his harsh self judgement. he tries something to counter it, but nothing comes to mind at first.

rin never directly told you, but you can imply someone important has either left him or betrayed him of some sort. was a friend? girlfriend? parental figure of some sort? youre not sure.

"who is this person you wish to surpass? i noticed you tend to say "i will destroy him." you had hope this could maybe expose his intentions? but rin only scoff.

"that man...i swear ill destroy him hell regret everything he said to me that night.!" he raised his voice. honestly you dont know who else can it be.

"is it perhaps your older brother, itoshi sae?" and his ears perked up. you notice his change of behavior. guessing it was him. "why did sae leave you?"

"theres nothing to talk about."

"then...just hearing his name, why does it make you angry? if he didnt matter, you wouldnt care." and rin cant even run away from his feelings. he knew he had to confront them sooner or later.

rin only knows how to push himself, he doesnt have any healthy coping mechanisms. poor boy. rin would sometimes refuse to talk to you, only resulting to telling to him to write down his feelings to realize whats going on and see that hes actually harming himself.

as he writes his feelings down, he starts to read aloud what he writes to you and your heart lights up, youre so happy hes able to warm up to you even after a whopping of two weeks. once you validate his feelings, he finally learns...maybe allowing being able to express himself doesn't make him feel weak.

though you did need to help his other unhealthy coping mechanisms, such as not getting enough sleep and punishing himself for being so "weak". youd give him advice to try an improve those coping methods. "if youre trying to improve yourself please dont push yourself. you need to recover too. you need to take care of yourself okay? in order to beat sae." at least to match up with his goals to motivate him to change his unhealthy ways.

rin generally thought of you just as a doctor who has to tolerate with his issues. hes emotionally distant and refuse to acknowledge any pain or feelings. but just seeing your ways of helping him puts him in a sense of comfort.

youre always calm and non-judgmental, someting rin isnt used to, due to the environment hes in and because of his brother. with you around he feels like he can slowly open up. not fully but just...slowly.

the more he talks about sae, the more he expresses his struggles. throughout his whole life he was incapable of expressing himself, but with you around, you create that space for him to open himself more.

the more and more he talks, he doesnt even realize it himself. he just lets himself go, is it because youre here? he feels like time goes by fast when hes with you. he finds...comfort within you.

as your job, youre always here to remind him to care for himself, something he heavily struggles with. whenever he seems to be so stressed out, you give him the upmost attention which rin doesnt realize he likes when youre showing your concern for him. at first he feels its weird when he receives your comfort, but he lets down his guard with you within time.

sometimes when he realizes hes becoming too close to you, he wants to push you away. well he does. when youre trying to pry his feelings out, he just makes excuses to end the session early, or just refuse to talk to you.

even with his refusal you dont give up on him, which is what he hates. whenever you keep up at it, he feels sting at his chest. he cant even describe what he feels. was this a bad feeling? good? scared? he cant get a hold of it.

its subtle but he does show he cares for you too. he would notice the eyebags under your eyes and the way you would slur your words a bit in sessions. hed only get a bit ticked off, "stop pushing yourself so hard. its annoying seeing you like this." honestly its so unexpected of him, but you just figured hed want a more professional doctor instead of a tired one.

sometimes when he does catch on with what he does, he tries to distance himself, skipping sessions to see if the feeling will go away. but it only worsens and lingers, he wants--no, needs to see you.

at a session, he does seem to be uncooperative, not like its anything new, but you do see that somethings been on his mind. you wonder what could it be. "everything alright rin? you seem to be on edge today. whats bothering you?" you cross your legs tapping on your clipboard.

rin can only scoff with his jaw clenched. just seeing you made him even more frustrated. "obviously. you." you halt your movements in confusion, oh no did you do something wrong as his doctor?

"me? im sorry can you recall what you dislike?" you leaned back on your chair in anticipation of his response. "i hate it. its confusing. i dont get why i always think of you. why i feel like i cant stand being here, but also the idea of not coming back. i dont know anymore. everytime i leave this room, its like i leave something behind. and i dont want to go." clenching his fist as his gaze falls to the floor.

you think hes just expressing his frustration, only until his words hit you cold. "its more than that. I-" you cut him off. you already knew what was to come. "rin please. i care about you, but i cant be that person for you. i am only here to better your wellbeing."

he didnt like that answer. it only fueled his anger in fact. slamming the table in front of him before angrily scurrying off. "rin!" you called out to him, but hes already left your office. you can only sigh frustratingly before continuing to note down some information.

its late at night. and your up in your office, just up to finish some work for the other 10 patients you need to tend to....its such hard work! only until someone opened your door and it was so unexpected you jumped. but its only rin, and you sighed. "rin? your session was over hours ago."

he can only click his tongue before walking up to your desk. "i needed to talk." he says with his stoic face. "you know its late, i cant make exceptions." now standing in front of your desk, the only light that emitted was from the door, and the white from the computer screen. "you do it for other patients." he shifts his gaze to the side.

"rin, if its about that-i care about you as my patient, but thats all there is to it." "i know." you frown, you hated confronting your patients, it always felt so mean but you had to! "then why are you still here?" rin can only clench his fist. "because i dont believe you."

his eyes flickered with determination and desperation as he grits his teeth. "if you didnt feel the same, you wouldnt care this much. i know it. i know you can feel it too, dont you?" he really did try to make you admit you did have feelings for him. you dont even know what to do anymore! "you treat me different than others."

"i treat my all my patients equally."

"liar. you hesitate when you look at me. you dont do that with others! i know how you look at me." he kept eye contact with you, slowly walking to your figure.

"Rin-"

"youre scared how i make you feel." he interrupted. "you think you know how i feel. but i know exactly what it is." his arm would reach out to caress your cheek, but you grip is wrist. his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

"rin, i care about you a lot than you think, but not in the way you want me to!" but he could only swat your hand away before taking hold of your cheeks, as he forces you to stare at his teal eyes.

"liar. i know you feel it. the connection we have. its stronger than any other patient you have." he closes in. you turn to face the other direction, avoiding his ways with you.

"stop refusing me already! look at me." he whispered to you, in a calmer tone to convince you. but his patient wears thin. he was always impatient. "i said look at me!" forcing you to look at his eyes. fear in your eyes, youre scared he might hurt you at this point.

"thats a better look for you." eyeing your lips, he feels some sort of excitement, that flow. your lips quivered, but its okay, rin will comfort you now, its to repay you back for everything youve done for him.

he leans in kissing you. his knee rested in between the negative spot in the chair, as his arms rests on the sides.

"see..? this kiss proves our connection."

patient #5: mikage reo.

from the mikage corp, reo mikage. for such a once bright person hes so gloomy and unmotivated now. hes always talking about your other patient named nagi seishiro. was there some sort of conflict between the two? the way he talks about him leaving, it seems like he has dependent personality disorder.

reos entire motivation for football intiailly revolved around nagi it seems. he always believed they could achieve such greatness together and that nagi was his treasure. he fixates a lot on their relationship and uses that to define his own worth.

but thats when his whole world shattered when he left him for isagi. really, was he not good enough in nagis eyes to partner up with him? he struggles to cope after that whole event. hes not confident in his ability alone, and refers himself nagis partner only, not as a person himself.

you know how he lost to isagi and nagi? and when nagi didnt choose him? he panics so much when nagi chooses to move on without him. he feels lost and betrayed. why didnt he choose him? the way he pleaded nagi just shows the fear of him being left behind. he doesnt want to succeed by himself, he wants--no...needs to do it with someone by his side.

observing reo more, he seems more of a follower than a leader himself. always relying on nagi rather than himself as a striker while lacking the self confidence without his partner. he feels as if hes not enough on his own. showing that part of his dependency needs.

he feels distressed when he thinks nagi will leave him behind and abandon him. he doesnt know how, but he just wants to keep nagi close to him. he was always perfect with everything, but he cant even keep his relationship perfect with nagi.

he needs nagis guidance in order to succeed, whenever out in the field, he looks for nagi for confirmation or approval of some sort. showing that lack of confidence in his own judgement.

he does have goals of his own, but he buts his own needs behind nagis. he finds nagis well being more important than his, he sacrifices his needs to make sure nagi feels secure, even neglecting his own desires. he lets nagi take control of situations because hes scared getting into conflict with nagi :(

taking all of this, you figured why not focus on increasing his self-confidence and help with emotional stability! though you did know this would be a difficult challenge as a lot of people struggle with that.

his biggest issue would be his worth and purpose to other people, which in this case was nagi...you would help work on building a sense of self outside of relationships! you would try to make reo aware of his dependency on others and talk about his own strengths when playing football, or just any personal achievements since he was good at anything.

you encourage him to make decisions alone! you start off small though, since nagi isnt there to decide for him, you think it will help build that individualism. you ask for what kind of meal would he like to eat, not what nagi would want. and then youd start with what would he want to do after he has won the world cup. something along the lines of that!

you do take note on what he told you how he felt during nagis "betrayal", you do believe he has a fear of abandonment. so you would try to suggest and develop coping mechanisms for him! you would try to prove to himself he can handle it, control is emotions, and communicate his needs without fear!

you teach him to set boundaries, so he isnt so dependent on one person or fixate on it. but you feel like you just made it worse.

hes never received such emotional support for his feelings, he thinks the way you treat him like hes so delicate makes him feels such things. youre one of the first people to listen to him, guide him, and see him more than just the mikage kid from a rich family who can do anything. but you see the side where hes most vulnerable.

he feels less alone venting his emotions to you, he develops that attachment. somewhere close where nagi lies.

he loves your reassurance that you give when he tries to work on his independency. but its not like you do that to make him rely on you, you just want him to be more confident in his healing progress! "Reo, you can do this, you dont need anyone to be strong." youd flash that sweet smile of yours and he gives you a soft look. "you really think so..?"

the more time you guys connect, the more he just sees you more that go beyond that patient-doctor bond. he admires the way you talk, the way you comfort him, and your sweet smile. hed always be in a trance when you speak because your voice is so soft, sometimes he doesnt even realize you asked him a questioned and youd have to shake him to come back to reality.

"reo? you okay?" you raised your eyebrow in confusion and concern. but hed only be startled, avoiding your gaze. "y-yes...just thinking." hed cover his mouth with his hand with such a flushed face. just from that moment, hes not just attached, but in love.

but hed always tried to reject that possibility. no no, hes not in love, he just really appreciate you for trying your best to help him...yeah thats it. he justifies his feeling as you just doing your job and you help him a lot. like when hed want to talk to you more often than scheduled sessions...or when youre so kind to him. sure everyones been super friendly with him, but you were just so different from others.

finishing up your session you click your pen and settle down your clipboard. "reo, youre making such great progress! you should be proud of yourself!" you clasped your hand together with that cheery face of yours. reo really didnt care about feeling better anymore. he just wanted to be with you at all times. sometimes he might even slip up to make his feelings for you obvious, but your naive self just take it as him still in the healing process.

he wouldnt want to try and make it obvious, but how could he make it known that he did love you? ah, thats right. money! hes rich, he can basically use that as a way to win your affection, its worked on others, itll work on you too.

at first hed test the waters, buying you such expensive gifts that not even you can afford or would even have thought of buying. designer clothes, watches, or some sort of vacation, telling you that you deserve a break from your hard work. (the trip will just be you and him www).

hell donate to the clinic, he tells your family members to keep it a secret from you because he doesnt want you to know hes funding your workplace, youd probably just try to refuse the money, but he just wants to make your life easier! and by that...he also wants to help with any bills you have under your name or debts you need to pay off like medical school.

he thinks its his way of showing his newfound "love" to you. everybody loves money dont they? its perfect. whenever hed suggest giving you an abundance of money, you just refuse, shaking your head.

"reo, i cant accept this," youd frown while crossing your arms.

hed get nervous from the way you react, why are you rejecting his money? no one ever has. "just let me do something nice for you. its a way of repaying back." hed laughed it off, but hes so scared you might catch on. whenever you reject his gifts, he gets so frustrated. he thinks even his money isnt enough for you. or was he, himself whole wasnt enough?

if you werent going to tend to his advances, he might as well just...say it to you right? hed gaslight himself into thinking maybe you wanted him to directly say it, maybe thats why you refused to take anything from him.

"alright reo, thank you for your time today! im glad to see you almost in shape and youll back to blue lock!" seeing you stand up from your chair, hed take hold of your wrist, not budging.

"[n-name]...i know this is very sudden. but." he stopped in his tracks, standing up looking down at your figure before taking both of your hands in his. hed inhale a breath before making eye contact with you again.

"i see you more as my doctor [name]. you make me feel like i could be the person i truly want to be..." hed caress your hands with his thumb. he thinks he just made it worse for the both of you. the silence is heavy as you stare at him in disbelief.

"im glad i can provide that space for you reo, but you cannot do this, nor can i accept any of the gifts you give me." reo can only frown, his desperation clearly showing.

"why? because im just a patient to your eyes? i can be more than that. you can quit your job and ill provide the money for you. you and your family!" he tightens his hold on you and his look is pleading. but you can only shake your head in refusal. "i must remain professional reo."

after that confession reo would pretend like hes fine, but thats because he was embarrassed and sadden. but its not like hed give up, he just wanted to give off the impression that he didnt care, but he did.

"to think someone could reject me, its refreshing." hed smile it off but you can only sigh, it just seems like hes trying to remind you of that.

he thinks to himself that if expensive gifts wont work on you, hed switch to personalized ones. like a favorite show you mentioned, he would buy merch and give it to you. or if you mentioned a book you wanted to read but never had the time to go buy it, hed buy it for you alright.

hed try to make it hard for you to completely cut him off by just spending an abundance amount on the funds, donations or buying out your workplace...

hes always offering to help, but even when you did refuse hed just play it off as being generous, but really he just doesnt want to give up on you.

he resorts to more desperate measures without even realizing it. "youre the only person who sees who i really am. if you leave too...whats left of me..?" hed caress your hand with his thumbs. lifting the hand to give a sweet gentle kiss to it.

"reo, you have to learn how-" he cuts you off, pulling you in to take hold of your waist.

"why do you fight so much? you care about me, i know you do!" your hands lay on his chest to try and push him off, but he wouldnt budge even a bit! "not in the way you want me to reo. youre my patient." hed stay silent for a bit, biting his lips from your response until blood was drawn. only to let out a bitter laugh.

"so im just another patient for you? just another worthless being you have to fix?!" hed squeeze you tighter, until your bodies connected. "youre not worthless reo. and youre important to me, but it isnt right to do this." youd frown hoping he can finally understand the situation hes in right now.

"then why does it feel like youre the only thing keeping me together..?" hed rest his forehead on your shoulder with his voice cracking. "please. just let me love you. youre my treasure."

this took forever to write and think out i hope it is okay to you guys! since it is not smut i feel like it will flop ( ‾́ ◡ ‾́ )

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ssparksflyy · 9 months ago

Note

just thinking about first kiss w/leo and your hands are in his hair except he gets nervy and the tips of his curls accidentally catch fire and burn your hands !!

so then he carries you bridal style to the infirmary, literally crying and begging for forgiveness

and yk the talk with will as of how you acquired these odd shaped burns is awkward as hell

anon ur so right

whats funny about it is that the tips of his hair catching fire is actually one of your favorite things about him, you think its super cute and tease him about it sometimes- calling him names like 'hot head' and telling how adorable you think it is only makes them burn brighter and has him shoving his tomato red face into his hands. you werent lying when you called it adorable, it truly always made your heart flutter and brought a smile to your face.

so when it happens during your first kiss together, you obviously pull away and remove your hands from his hair cause.. well.. they just got burnt ?? but you still cant help but smile a bit.

the burns themselves werent extremely bad, they just stung a bit, and the kiss was great but that didnt stop leo from freaking out and immediately apologizing repeatedly, asking you if you were okay and grabbing your hands to get a better look at them.

you explain to him that youre okay, but this man is literally on the verge of tears, thinking you hate him and never ever want to see him again. you assure him youre ok, and just need to run over the infirmary for a quick treatment.

you try to turn away to the infirmary, but leo is so quick to literally sweep you off your feet and carry you in his arms, bridal style. he says something about making it up to you and calls himself 'your certified knight in shining armor' which only makes you smile more.

he begins scurrying over to the infirmary, pushing past campers so determined to get you there as quickly as possible, making you giggle. he puts you down at the door of the infirmary, quickly grabbing the door and holding it open for you.

you let out a light laugh and a 'thank you', then brush past him and into the infirmary. he follows right behind you, closing the door behind him. you walk up to the counter, asking one of the apollo kids for some assistance with your burns and she leads you over to sit and wait on one of the hospital beds until will can help you.

leo sits in the chair right next to you and even though youve told him a million times that youre ok, his leg cant help from bouncing and he can't stop fidgeting with his fingers. you notice his behaviors and put a hand on top of his busy ones, giving him a soft smile. he looks up and returns the smile, but is snapped out of his la-la-land trance when will walks over with his clipboard, ready to help you.

he asks you whats wrong and takes a look at your hands, but seems to have a puzzled look on his face.

"how'd you get these burns? theyre really weirdly shaped." he asks.

your face gets hot and your body tenses up, leo having the same reaction.

"uhmmm..uh- i-"

"wel-well you see what had happened was-"

"we ummm.."

"out with it already." will said, giving you a deadpan look.

you and leo glanced at each other in panic, but knew you shouldnt lie. not to will.

"we..wellwekissedandiwastouchinghishairbutthenitcaughtonfireandburntmyhadns" you mumbled quickly, looking down.

"what?" will asked, moving closer in hopes of hearing you better.

"wee.. kissed and i had my hands in his hair but then it caught on fire and burnt my hands" you said, elongating the syllables and feeling your face get hotter with each word.

will tired so hard not to laugh or smile, after all he was in a 'professional environment' ( as chrion called it ) but he really couldn't help it, he smirked and put your hands down, walking away from you and over to the cabinet where all the camp's ointments were kept.

he smothered a glob of the ointment onto your hands then bandaged them up so they could heal properly, and let you go on with your day- but not without a few teases and jokes while leo helped you fill out your paperwork.

after you finished up in the infirmary, you and leo walked out together and immediately plopped onto the bench outside.

"well that was embarrassing" leo said, stating the obvious.

"yep... well, now i know to learn from my mistake the next time i kiss you" you said, a small smirk forming onto your face.

your comment had caught leo by surprise, "what? wait... again? you-you'd wanna do that again?"

you turned to face him with a smile, "i mean why not? youre a good kisser and it's not like ive havent a crush on you for years"

leo had to be on the verge of a heart attack with each surprise he'd faced today, this one only pushing him further off the edge, "you've had a crush on me for years????"

you simply nodded your head and smiled, trying to play it cool when in reality your heart was ready to run out of your chest.

leo ran his fingers through his hair in disbelief, "wait so were you like really good at hiding it or something?? cause ive had a crush on you for years and i feel like its always been painfully obvious."

it was your turn to get nervous, suddenly at a loss for words.

"w-well, maybe you should do something about it then." you said, sounding more confident than you felt.

"well maybe i will."

he cupped your face with his hand and brought you in close for your second kiss that day, holding your hands down with his free one, and moving his lips slowly against yours. this time, the kiss was long and soft, the way your first one should've been. when the two of you finally pulled away for air, you had stupid smiles on your faces that only grew after leo asked you,

"would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?"

to which you gladly said yes to.

#i am on a ROLL #smau fic moodboard AND blurd #this may not seem like a lot to yall but apparently im in a yapper mood cause this never happens #anyway i literally loved this prompt like anon u ate with this one #this was so funness to right !!#percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #by bells ♡⋆ ࣪.#all da ladies luv leo ˖⋆࿐໋

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rafedaddy01 · 8 months ago

Note

Rafe knows its wrong but he wants to f his assistant

Hes Single but hes 35 and shes just 19 years old

But one day when they are all alone in the office he just cant take it any more and he takes her right on his table

At first she resists

He knows shes a virgin

But soon shes begging for more harder faster

I love a little non consensual sex ⭐️

He knows you’re a virgin. Which is why it would be so wrong for him to push everything off his desk and take you on it right now. Bunching up that little skirt and ripping your panties off before shoving his cock deep in that virgin cunt. He knows that would be wrong. But the way you’re talking, and the way you smell, and the way you look, and just overall you, makes him want to do those things to you. Even if they are wrong.

But he also knows you’d be begging for it once he was inside you. He sees the way you look at him. Eyeing him up and down when you think he’s not looking. Or the way you fix your blouse right before you walk into his office. Or the way you wear that cherry red lipstick just for him because he told you itd look good on you. He knows you want him as bad as he wants you, you’re just too shy to do anything. So rafe decides the right thing to do is be a man about it.

“Good evening, Mr. Cameron. Here are those documents you were wanting printed off this morning” you walk into his office, chirpy as usual as you place the stack of papers on his desk, and just as your about to turn away Rafes hand wraps around your wrist.

“Y/n” his voice is stern and more dominant that usual.

“Yes, sir?” You turn back to face him. Scanning his face for any sign of what you must have done wrong. But you can’t make anything out. All you see is hunger, a primal hunger, but you can’t figure out why he’s staring at you with such intensity.

“You look very pretty today” rafe let’s go of your wrist and stands up, walking in front of you and caging your body against the side of his desk.

“And you smell so good” he leans in and hold a strand of hair up to his nose as he sniffs.

“T-thank you, sir” you mutter. Having him this close makes your brain fuzzy. This man is a literal god. He’s loved, feared, and respected by everyone. Every woman tries to catch his attention, some succeed but most get shooed away like stray dogs. Rafe is a very powerful man and you know that with one wrong word or one wrong move he could make your life a living hell.

“You’re welcome” he drops the strand and watches it rest against your skin before meeting your eyes and smiling.

He leans closer, his hands falling to the desk and his body pushing yours against his desk until there’s no where for you to go but fall against the desk.

You don’t even have time to comprehend what is happening when Rafes lips land on yours. You don’t kiss back, his lips moving at a rapid pace, tongue darting out but you refuse to open your mouth and he grunts, wrapping a hand in your hair and tilting your head up by pulling on your hair, you gasp and he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue inside, moaning when you give him what he wants.

You try to push at his chest, push him back and off you so you can speak. Tell him no, this is wrong. First off he’s your boss. Second, he’s wayyy older than you.

But rafe grips your wrists once more, tightening them in his grip and pushing them away.

He finally pulls back, biting your lower lip as he pulls back.

“Rafe-“ your cut short when you hear the sound of clothes ripping.

You gasp, shocked as you look down and see he used a pair of scissors to cut down the center of your skirt.

“Rafe! What the f-“

“Shh, don’t worry. I’ll buy you another” he goes to kiss you again but this time you turn away, finally being able to push him back.

“I-I don’t want to do this, rafe. We shouldn’t- this is- please stop” you feel the tears start forming as you struggle to find your words, just wanting to get out of his office as soon as possible.

“I don’t really care what you want” Rafe says as he grabs you back, spreading your thighs and groaning when he finally sees what’s between your legs. You weren’t wearing any panties today due to it being laundry day. He laughs and shakes his head, “and you’re trying to tell me you don’t want this. Pft, little slut. Walking around my office, wearing nothing under this little skirt and expecting me not to fuck you?”

“Rafe please” you beg as you feel the warmth of his hand going up and down your thigh. Inching closer and closer to that spot you desperately want him at, but also don’t want him touching at all.

“Looks like I’m gonna have to discipline you. Show you what happens when you walk around practically naked in my office.”

You accept your defeat when you hear the belt buckle and the sound of his zipper being pulled down.

This is not how you wanted to lose your virginity. You wanted it to be with someone you loved, you wanted it to be romantic. Not against a desk with your 35 years old boss taking advantage of you. Even if he was hot and you had a little crush on him.

His tip tapped against your clit and it brought you back to reality, you didn’t even realize the pads of Rafes thumb was wiping at your teary eyes, “don’t cry baby, I’ll have you begging me to fuck you harder in just a second” he pushed all the way in, sucking the breath from your lungs as you felt the stretch his cock made inside you.

He stills a moment to let you adjust but it doesn’t last long before he pulls his hips back and thrusts in hard, groaning when he feels just how tight you really are.

His thrusts are slow but deep, it hurts but it starts to feel really good really soon. You can feel every outline and ridge and curve of his cock. Especially since he just pushed inside you without so much as a condom. You could feel everything, and it felt amazing.

“M-more, p-please” you whimpered as you relaxed your body, falling fully against the desk.

“I told you princess, all you had to do was shut up and let me in” he smirked down at your fucked out state. Poor little virgin pussy was now his. His to look at, his to fuck, his to lick and touch, and no other man ever has nor ever will lay their hands on you.

“You’re just so perfect, letting your boss fuck your virgin pussy raw. Your definitely getting a promotion after this”

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover @mema10

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kentoxo · 7 months ago

Text

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 8

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: AHHH im so sorry i was gone for so long! work and school and i got sick again. my luck lately has been quite poor, but here's the next part!! i dont think its quite well written but i hope you all think its good! thank u again for ur support, kindness, and patience :) (sorry i say thank you so much, cant help myself!)

all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7,

December | Tokyo, Japan | Wednesday

You should have worn more lotion.

The unkind cold and threatening winds made your trek to work excruciatingly more difficult. Surely you made it, but had to get blind by the flurries of snow in the process. You take your time in the lobby, stomping aggressively down at the weather mats to remove all the snow and ice from your boots. You shake yourself like a wet dog to get the snow off your coat, too. The lobby men chuckle at you, and you couldn’t help but smile.

It’s been rough to do so, after all. Considering you got rejected twice by the same man, you needed all the serotonin you could get. You spent hours crying, which only halted when you finally passed out. The heartbreak exhausted you, given how dark your eyes were, and how hollow your chest has felt since then. The worst part about all of it is that despite everything, you still had Nanami’s coffee in mind.

It floated in your mind to go to the cafe and get him a cup. But you have to remember that he has other assistants who know his coffee order now. You were now one of few who knew it.

To have your relationship seen as just boss/assistant by the other participant felt like punishment. A large sigh left your lips when you exited the elevator on your floor. Shivers tickled your body as you begrudgingly walked over to your desk. It was warm in the office, enough for you to take solace in.

You begin to turn on your computer and prepare your desk, before being interrupted by two hands slamming down your desk. You look up to find a panting (and exhausted) Haibara. “Yu?” You whisper worriedly. “Is everything okay?”

“He lost the flashdrive,” Haibara lets out. “The presentation… it’s missing.”

Your eyes widen, “Nanami? But… how?” Of all people, Nanami was never one to lack in anything, especially in organization. He was always sharp and aware of where all his things were. You never had to concern yourself with assignments getting lost because Nanami is too diligent.

“We– we um, drank last night…?” Haibara reluctantly confesses. “We both got home quite late… he might not have his whole head on.”

Without another word, you swiftly leave your desk and rush over to Nanami’s office, with Haibara following closely behind. On your way towards his office, you see all of Takada’s assistants outside of his office, their expressions full of concern. You make your way through them and knock on his door gently.

“What?” Nanami’s annoyed tone rang through the door.

“It’s Y/N,” you reply, ignoring his attitude.

Quick shifting was sound behind the door before the doorknob began to turn. The door opens to reveal a disheveled Nanami. Despite his usually refined features, his unkempt hair and unbutton shirt was quite distracting. The shadows line his collarbone and the darkness under his eyes add to the intensity in his struggling, hazel eyes. He leaned against the door frame, his eyes slightly lighting up from your presence. There was some sort of relief in his eyes, but it was still drowned out by anxiety.

“Please, please tell me you have a copy?” Nanami practically begs.

You feel a lump in your throat from seeing his desperation. Not even you can be dismissive to his plea. “I–I was instructed not to keep an extra copy. It’s confidential, so I didn’t…”

Nanami let out a quiet ‘fuck,’ retreating slowly back towards his desk. “Don’t worry, I’m not upset with you. I’m upset with myself because you’re right and I’m simply irresponsible…” He leans back against his desk, defeatedly holding himself up with his hands firmly down on the desk behind him. He looks distantly to the floor, a sight you never thought you’d ever see.

The confident, sharp Nanami was now at his wits’ end.

“Do you remember when you last had it?” You ask quietly.

“I had it in my coat pocket on my way here,” he recalls quietly, “I still had it when I got off the train, so it must be outside around the area.”

“But with all that snow…” Haibara begins, the defeat clearly on his tongue.

You let out a sigh, emitting a calm apology before dismissing yourself. Once you were out of sight, you ran towards the elevator, practically beating the button until it arrived to you. You impatiently wait as you descend, your body already feeling the cold from outside. Even maintenance couldn’t believe their eyes as they watched you run out from the lobby, and into the harsh weather.

It was a bit embarrassing for you. You were always there to fix Nanami’s scarce mistakes, or prevent them. Even after he broke your heart twice, here you are, outside in the freezing cold, without any garments to protect you from it. You could feel your body beginning to go numb from the seconds you were outside.

Your exposed legs were inches deep in the snow, your frigid hands sifting desperately through the snow. Why? You asked yourself. Why, why, why? You were freezing, the weather was harsh, and this flash drive is as small as a roach. Why were you doing all of this?

As you shoveled through the snow, you were finally able to feel how you were feeling after facing Nanami again. You were able to keep yourself from crying, but you wanted to cry profusely. Your boss, your crush, was stressed out over a mistake he made, and it didn’t even make you feel better. Unfortunately, your feelings were too weaved into his, and you felt the stress he is feeling.

It bothered you to see him stressed. So much so, your body moved on its own and now it was in the cold, looking for the solution to Nanami’s problem. You didn’t even stay idle for a moment while in his office. Perhaps, the reason why you were helping him was because since you met Nanami, he has always been someone to work for his team.

But you know for sure part of it was that you never want to see him like that again.

Taking on projects on his own to keep his other colleagues working in low piles. Working with clients he personally isn’t a fan of to make sure the company grows. Providing breakfast and lunch when important meetings arise to make sure everyone at least eats well before torturous work. He was strict, but never a mean person. And to that end might explain why you still felt the way you did.

However,

Your respect for him goes above your feelings. A hard piece of plastic was barely felt between your fingers, but they were able to hold onto it firmly. The small flash drive, covered in a bit of snow, still glowed green when you pushed up to reveal the USB. You promptly make your way back in, the warmth barely penetrating the cold you developed while being outside.

I’m gonna get sick, you thought to yourself. As you passed through the lobby, you noticed Nanami’s clients getting checked in at the lobby. You hurry to the elevator, pushing aggressively at the close button so they didn’t have a chance to get there at the same time you did. You move your legs in place, attempting to regain some warmth. While you ascended, you purposely pushed the buttons of the floors you passed to delay their arrival. Finally reaching your level, you rush out to go to the other free elevator. As you did, you were met with a concerned Haibara.

“H-hey!” Haibara calls to you, but you ignore him and shove the flash drive into his hand. But as you did, he noticed that you were frozen and kept his hands around yours. “You… found it? Did you go outside? Without a coat? Y/N, you’re freezing!”

Oh, how you wished you fell for Haibara instead. You pull away your hand, quickly entering the other elevator and slamming your hands on the buttons. You look up at Haibara, your bottom lip blue and quivering. “Take it to Nanami,” you say roughly, your voice hoarse from the little warmth in your body. “Your clients. They’re downstairs. Hurry up.”

Haibara holds onto your arms, noticing that you could barely keep yourself up, “yeah, fuck the clients. You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“Please,” you look up at him desperately, tears welling in your eyes. It was already enough that you felt stupid for even looking for the flashdrive in this state. But even Haibara couldn’t push away the hurt and stress in your own eyes. “I’ll be fine… please help Nanami finish this.”

“Let me at least walk you to your desk–”

“I got her!” You both look over to see Tae run over, his apron dancing left and right from not being properly tied in the back. He quickly takes hold of you, looking up at Haibara to give him a curt nod in replacement of a proper bow. “Resume your work, Haibara-sama. I can tend to her.”

Tae held you close enough that you could feel his warmth. It was intoxicating almost, the solace of his heat and the scent of pine needles emanating from his body. The fresh scent of linen coming from his black sweatshirt made you feel a little nostalgic but uneasy. You could still feel the cold taking you over, your entire body shivering. His hands firmly held you without squeezing you tightly.

Haibara looks down skeptically, but you wave at him. “Please go,” you croak, coughs finally leaving your throat. “I’ll be fine.” You could see that you didn’t quite persuade him, but for the sake of Nanami, he nodded.

He eyes Tae, a rare serious aura surrounding him, “get her to a doctor if she needs it. I’ll be back as soon as the presentation ends. Please make her something hot, like hot cocoa or soup.” Tae nods, allowing Haibara to run back towards Nanami, who was probably drowning in his own anxiety.

“‘m sorry to inconvenience you like this, Tae,” you whisper, your body still shaking and twitching from the cold. “But thank you for that.”

“No worries, please don’t exert yourself,” Tae softly warns. He tightens his hold on you before slowly walking you over to the cafe. Though you didn’t have enough trust to close your eyes, you did have enough to hold his sweater, confident that he won’t let you fall. “Let me help you. After all, you helped me first. Come, the cafe is just around the corner.”

The relief on Nanami’s face was truly meant to be displayed in a museum.

He held onto the flashdrive tightly, mentally scolding himself from ever dropping it in the first place. He forces it into the projector, and everything was set up for the clients to come in moments. He noticed that the flash drive was not only still cold, but slightly wet. “Was it outside in the snow?”

Haibara nods as he fixes up the conference table a bit. It was ornate with drinks, snacks, and notetaking items for their clients to use and enjoy. “The snow is really growing by the inch out there. This winter is brutal.”

“It truly is unkind out there,” Nanami sighs, his eyes looking through the window. “I hope you grabbed your coat before going out there.”

Haibara shakes his head, “it wasn’t me who found the flashdrive; it was Y/N. I caught her at the elevator, and she was the one who handed it to me.”

Nanami slightly perks up at your name, “did she really?”

“She left straight from your office to go find it,” Haibara says quietly, “but she didn’t even bring a sweater. She was completely frozen when I saw her.”

This left a pit in Nanami’s stomach. “Why did she not bring a coat? She’s more rational than that.”

Haibara lets out a sigh, “who’s to say, Kento. Y/N works very hard to do right by you and this company. I think she’d do whatever it takes in order to make sure you and this department shines.”

“Disregarding her health is not why she’s here,” Nanami huffs strictly. “Where is she?”

“I left her with the barista you hired,” Haibara informs, “my guess is he took her to the cafe to warm her up.”

Nanami’s eyes cut over to Haibara, burning through his soul. Despite this, Haibara still didn’t see his eyes. “You left her with a stranger?”

“A stranger you hired,” Haibara clarifies. “Anyways, Y/N insisted I come help you. I’d probably make her feel worse if I didn’t.”

There was a rare annoyance that Nanami never felt. You were always conscious of yourself, and others. Nanami always noticed when you would help someone with a large pile of papers, or when you applied bandages to blisters due to your heels. But more times than not, you never shied away from a challenge, and never hesitated to help someone whether they asked or not.

But now you were far from him, and he couldn’t do anything to help you. He had this stupid presentation to do, rather than be by your side and tend to you. After all, you truly were the reason behind his success. The reason for his reduced stress, and a direct asset to his department. You did so much for him, only to be given a shred of that effort. He was feeling guilty, not only for being unaware of his feelings towards you, but the immense disregard he had for your own feelings and effort in this company.

You were his dear assistant, and he was breaking you.

“I’ll be back,” Nanami hums, rushing out of the conference room. Haibara looks back and follows right behind him, surprised by his sudden dash.

Nanami, the meeting!” Haibara calls out to him, “you can’t do this right now!”

His response was silence as he reached the corner towards the cafe. As he appears in the opening, his hazel eyes relentlessly looked for you. But when he stumbled upon you, his concern and annoyance skyrocketed.

You were lying on one of the couches at the cafe, surrounded by a few of the baristas there. They all comforted you, as you lay under a few blankets. But Nanami noticed that below all of that, you were covered by a large, black crewneck. On your head, a beanie as well. And sat on a stool right in front of you with a hot coffee cup was Tae, the barista he hired. Nanami noticed the warmth in his eyes when he looked down at you, with a free hand out to you. Your boss felt a lump in his throat when he saw you take his hand, helping you sit up to take the cup from him. Tae kept his hand on the bottom of the cup while you sipped it cautiously.

His chest felt like someone was pushing it down, his breath was limited. His heart, at the same time, was punching against it as well, almost as if it was going through a two-front war. He looks down at his hands, adjusting the sleeves at both of his wrists. He needed to reach you– sooner rather than later. And now looked like the perfect opportunity.

But before he could take another step, the elevator behind him opened, and the entourage of clients he was expecting stood before him, all smiles. Haibara catches up and pats Nanami’s back, forcing him to turn around as they both curtly bow in greeting. A vein protruded Nanami’s temple, and Haibara looked back to see what he was looking at.

What he saw made him crack a small smile, his energy returning to him as he led the clients and an annoyed Nanami towards the conference room.

Taglist: [Now Closed]

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds

@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve

@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nananmi kento #jjk x reader #nanami fanfic #nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami smut #jujutsu nanami

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dinogoofymutated · 1 year ago

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Hi!! I LOVE your Remy hcs! They were so sweet and in character 😊 I'm on my period and ya girl is suffering and I keep thinking that Remy would be the sweetest AND totally amazing in the fried food department 👀 Any hcs? Totally chill if nah

Gambit/AFAB!reader!- Period HCS YES!!! just yes. absolutlely. I want to taste this man's cooking so bad but I am ridiculously sensitive to spice and would probably die.

I have a similar req for Nightcrawler as well so keep an eye out for that one too ;) Sorry that this is a little short!

TWS: Menstrual cycles. Cramps. Menstrual cravings. Damn I'm hungry rn ngl. Can be read as GN as no pronouns are mentioned.

If cooking Isn't one of Remy's love languages I'm calling bull!!

I mean, who else would go out of their way to cook beignets for breakfast? I mean, sure, he could have made the dough beforehand but seriously that shit takes time.

I 100% believe he would go out of his way to make you anything you were craving on your period. Fried chicken? Done. Beignets? Obviously. Done! Hell, you want stuffed french toast but every time you try to make it you fail miserably? Don't worryyy! He's got you.

Although, that doesn't mean he does it for free!! He asks for payment via smooches and love. He tends to stray away from period sex until he knows you're comfortable with it, and if you are comfortable with it he's always there to offer his assistance if you need an all natural pain killer ;)

Mother nature fucking sucked. It wasn't enough that you had to deal with blood leaking out of you every month, but debilitating cramps on top of that? Straight bullshit!

You've been cocooned under your blankets all morning, curled up into a fetal position as you delt with the intense cramps. You've already taken the last of the painkillers you kept in your bedside table, and unfortunate for you, they were not working. You know you've certainly missed breakfast by now, but you just hurt too much to get up. You're face down on your pillow when there's a quick knock at your door before it opens.

"Good morning, Chère~" Remy sings. You cant really respond to him other than giving him a tired hum. You hear the door shut behind him before the sound of him placing a plate on your bedside table.

" 'Figured you weren't feeling well when you weren't at the table, so I've brought you the Gambit special." He jokes. You feel the bed shift with his weight as his sits next to you, running his hand up and down your back soothingly.

"Thanks Rem." You mumble. If only you could bring yourself to sit up. You can smell the sweet scent of the beignets he had brought you, and it makes your stomach growl loudly. You wince as another wave of pain hits you coincidentally, and you're absolutely sure your body was planning to kill you.

" S' pretty bad, huh?" Remy asks, a comforting hand brushing the hair out of your face. You nod.

"Alright, c'mere." You don't have a chance to refuse as Remy is sitting you up, making space so he can sit against your headboard. You're blearily blinking your eyes open as he drags you into his lap, propping you up against his chest. You send him a groggy, questioning look, but he only responds with catching you in a chaste kiss.

"What? You didn't think I was gonna let my favorite person suffer alone, did you?" He asks, sending you a smile that you can't help but return. Remy feeds you your breakfast like that, keeping you snug and safe between his arms as he gives you plenty of kisses and rubs your lower stomach through each wave of pain. Those painkiller never did kick in, but at least you had someone sweet to distract you for a while.

#x men 97 #x men #x men comics #x men headcannons #x men 97 x reader #remy lebeau #gambit #x men gambit #gambit imagine #gambit x reader #remy lebeau headcanons #remy lebeau headcannons #remy lebeau imagine #remy lebeau x reader #x men remy lebeau

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livin4woso · 8 months ago

Text

Drowning under pressure -(arsenal x reader)

Summary - What happens when one of Arsenal's rising stars is scrutinised so much by the media? It's hard not to begin to be engulfed by it.

TW- mentions of su*cide so if this is potentially triggering please do not read!!

There is a social construct in life that when your drowning its obvious,arms are flailing your shouting for help however its the complete opposite there is no signs until you notice them sinking in the water. You cant notice someone is drowning without a watchful eye or before its too late to help.

This is similar to life you dont notice someone is struggling until its too late to help. There is no warning signs....well there is but unless your watching close enough, you would never notice them.

Life is becoming hard, harder than it should be for a 20 year old. Your days are dragging each one is monotonous and feels like your an actor in your very own one man stage show however you can't control what happens on your stage and maybe you wished you could control it. You can only control one thing you can end it.

Arsenal's new stargirl what a name to live under. Maybe you should feel proud that a whole community have so much faith in your talent but you can't feel proud when its a direct spotlight following you every second and while you can relish the spotlight for a little while it soon starts to burn. The media is a cruel place one that your told to stay away from as a young athlete yet its so drawing you can't stay away from something that is like a drug yet the negative side effects can't leave a physical scar.

When you first arrived to the first team it was like the final piece of the puzzle had fit. You were playing the best football of your life, scoring goals, making assists, making a name for yourself. You had quickly been taken under the wing by beth mead and lia walti two forward players who were driven through kindness. The first few years at arsenal had been amazing for you and you had found to be used as a regular super sub and occasional starter when a forward player was injured.

You were always seen as a happy person the type who can make a joke out of the worst suitation that you are thrown in. The older girls had become keen of your presence it was one that radiated joy and had a warmth to it. All of a sudden it began to change your smile never reached the top of cheeks the type of smile that shows your dimples; dark circles began to appear on your face like it was etched on with a pen.

You don't remember when your body began to felt heavy or when your mind felt numb but you can remember knowing you were done with life.

You were having a bad start to the season you had missed an open goal and had been sent off for 2 yellow cards one for a bad tackle and the other for desent.

This is when the water started flooding in fatster than you can stop it. Every sports page was filled with negative comments about you and then it seeped into your comments and then your Dm's. Each comment is like another drop of water that begins to pile up. Then one catches your eye and it opens the flood gates.

"Your so shit why dont you do your own team a favour and kill yourself , it would be the only thing your good at"

Those words swirl around in your mind, and soon, you're set on it. You would be doing everyone a favour. The idea really floated around it, which would end it all completely, absolute peace.

You managed to find all the pills in your cupboards and filled a glass of water. However, in front of you lay a pile of letters each individually addressed to each person handwritten notes to know it wasn't them that led yourself to this but a thank you for all they had done for you. As you swallowed each pill, it was like a soft comforting darkness that surrounded your vision not one you were scared of it was what you wanted.

Days after you had passed the news had broke to the public and it was if the publics opinion could flip on a switch one minute they all wanted you gone and now each and every one of them wants you back. Players were asked to do interviews about you. However, how can they speak about mental health when they couldn't even realise their own teammate was struggling.

Something that had stuck with everyone that you had left in the letter was ' dont cry because its over smile because it happened' and thats what your teamates did when someone aksed about you they would speak about the time you fell over the chair in the canteen or the time you accidentally hit the coaching staff in the face with the ball.

Although you never made it far into your career you did leave one thing a legacy.

A/n- guys if you are feeling like this, please don't be afraid to reach out to someone even my dms are open if you need to talk to someone. I hope you are all okay and remember please check up on your loved ones as you never know what they are going through.

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagines #wsl #woso blurbs #woso community #arsenal x reader #leah williamson #arsenal wfc

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sugardollcurse · 2 days ago

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Could you do a john x reader where the readers the bands assistant and at first he cant stand the reader but slowly falls for them?<3

𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛 | john lennon x reader

𐙚 summary ; john thinks you’re uptight, nosy, and irritatingly good at your job. you think he’s an arrogant, lazy sod with a nicotine addiction. somehow, falling in love happens anyway.

𐙚 note ; i love this dynamic. john being emotionally incompetent!!?? yeah i’m gonna eat it up xoxo

“Tell ‘em to piss off, would you?”

You weren’t even fully in the doorway before John had flung that at you, voice echoing over the piano keys like he was hoping it’d bruise on impact. You blinked, unfazed, balancing the clipboard against your chest like a shield.

“They’re your interviewers, not mine.”

He slumped deeper on the bench. “Don’t care. They’re wankers.”

Paul looked up from the mixing console, brows lifted, waiting. You didn’t flinch. The stack of studio notes in your arms didn’t either. George was half-asleep on the floor, eyes shut and legs crossed, clearly trying to pretend none of this was happening. Ringo was eating crisps behind a partition. John hadn’t even acknowledged you yesterday. Today, he was yelling before you opened your mouth.

“Lovely seeing you too, Lennon,” you said flatly, brushing past him to drop the notes on the table. “I’ve got the revised track timings, the itinerary for tomorrow, and a list of people you’re allegedly supposed to be nice to this week.”

“You’re one of them?”

“Not a chance.”

Ringo snorted. Paul grinned.

John looked up slowly. He had the cigarette still dangling from his mouth, barely lit, and his eyes were bloodshot behind those stupid yellow glasses he wore indoors. You didn’t know if he was drunk or just pretending to be, but either way, his glare slid down you like he was trying to x-ray you for weaknesses.

“You’re that new one,” he said, like it was an accusation. “The one with the attitude.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one who called me a parasite on day one.”

“I said the lot of you were parasites. Don’t get big-headed.”

“Thanks for the clarification.”

He sneered. You smiled. There was no real heat behind it, just the static of two sharp things scraping too close together. You turned on your heel and walked out before he could say something clever.

The door clicked shut behind you. He exhaled smoke through his nose and muttered, “Who hired that one?”

“You did,” Paul said, laughing. “Well. You insisted you wanted someone who wasn’t a ‘yes man.’”

“Well, fuck me, I got one.”

You started seeing more of John after that, unfortunately.

He was always the last one out of the studio and the first one to pick a fight. When things went wrong, he found you. When things went right, he found someone else. But you started noticing patterns in his tantrums. He only really snapped when he hadn’t written anything good in a while. When he walked in silent and stiff-shouldered, he’d pick a fight within the hour. When he was buzzing, humming with ideas, he barely noticed you were there.

Sometimes he’d mutter lyrics to himself. You started jotting them down without being asked.

“You writin’ down my thoughts now?” he barked one afternoon, catching you scribbling something about “a fish and a god and a yellow sky.”

“No,” you said, “just your ramblings. Figured I could blackmail you someday.”

He stared at you, lips parted around his smoke. Then, to your surprise, he grinned.

“…you’re mental.”

You shrugged. “So are you.”

That grin stuck with you longer than it should’ve.

You caught him watching you a few days later. Middle of the afternoon, everybody out for lunch except the two of you. You were going over press releases on the floor, cross-legged, red pen tucked behind your ear. You felt his gaze before you saw it.

“You gonna keep staring or help me highlight?”

He didn’t blink. Just sat there with a cigarette smoldering in the ashtray, arms crossed, and said, “You talk to me different than the others.”

You looked up. “Yeah?”

“You don’t give a toss.”

“About what?”

“Me.”

You stared at him for a beat. Then went back to your notes.

“I give enough of a toss to keep your schedule from collapsing. Anything beyond that’s a risk to my mental health.”

He laughed, soft and throaty. “See, that’s what I mean.”

“You want me to care?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Just...” He squinted at you. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

“I’m scared of things, sure,” you muttered, underlining a sentence. “Just not irritable Liverpudlians.”

“You should be! I bite.”

“You sulk.”

His mouth twitched. You didn’t look at him again, but you felt the tension shift. He didn’t leave the room. Didn’t snap. Just sat there, quiet. Thinking.

He started asking where you were.

He never did it directly, John Lennon wasn’t sentimental, obviously! But when you were late to the studio one morning, he cornered Ringo.

“That assistant of ours, yours, where’d they go?”

“Dentist,” Ringo said through a mouthful of toast. “Why?”

“Just noticed it was quieter.”

“You miss ‘em?”

“Miss the arguments,” John muttered. “S’good for the blood.”

When you came back, he didn’t say anything, but the whole day passed without a single insult.

You almost missed them.

It was late when it really shifted.

A Friday. Rain slicked the windows, and the others had left hours ago. You were still fiddling with the week’s expenses when you noticed him, curled on the couch with his guitar across his lap, staring at the ceiling.

“You’re not playing anything,” you said, not looking up.

He didn’t answer right away, just kept flicking the strings with a pick he wasn’t really using. Lazy. Aimless. His foot tapped, heel against the couch cushion, and you were about to repeat yourself when he muttered, “Yeah, well, maybe I’m just sittin’ with it.”

“With what?”

He glanced over, hair falling in his eyes. “The fact that we’ve written the same fuckin’ song four times this week.”

You laughed under your breath. “You’ve said that every week.”

“Yeah, and it’s true every time.”

You stood, stretching your arms over your head. “Want a drink?”

“No.” He shifted, leaned back against the couch, fingers now just resting on the strings. “Don’t want much of anything, really. Not when I’ve got three producers tellin’ me which note’s best and a tape operator breathin’ down my neck.”

“Sounds like hell.”

“It is hell,” he muttered. “But it’s also... I dunno. Not like I’d be anywhere else.”

You crossed the room and sat near the end of the couch, not quite close enough to touch. “You like pretending you hate it.”

“I do hate it.”

“You love it.”

He narrowed his eyes, flicked his gaze at you. “You don’t know shit.”

“Mmhm.”

He sighed, dramatically. “Can’t even sulk in peace around you, can I?”

“Nope.”

“Fucking menace.”

You smiled at the floor. Then, quieter, “You want to talk about it?”

He arched a brow. “Talk about what?”

“Whatever’s chewing on you.”

He sniffed, scratched his temple. “It’s called a band.”

“You’re the one who insisted on staying this late.”

“And you’re the one still here, clipboard-for-brains.”

You flicked a crumpled receipt at his knee. He swatted it away.

“Listen,” he said after a moment, voice slower, less sharp, “not every night has to end in an epiphany, y’know. Sometimes a bloke just wants to sit and be miserable in peace.”

“You’re doing a fantastic job at that.”

He glanced at you sidelong, and for a flicker, just a second, you thought you saw something like relief pass over his face. Like your refusal to pry too deep was the nicest thing anyone had done all day.

He shifted again, looser now, guitar across his lap like a blanket instead of a shield.

“You’re not bad, y’know,” he said quietly.

You blinked. “What?”

“Don’t make me repeat it.”

You sat back, eyes squinting like you were analyzing a riddle. “You mean that as a person or as an assistant?”

John lit another cigarette. “Either.”

“Wow,” you said, mock-dramatic. “Praise from Caesar.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

━━

You started noticing when he didn’t fight. That was the real tell. The days when John just sat at the piano and let his fingers drift across the keys, absentminded and raw, were worse than when he exploded. The quiet was heavier. Less self-important.

One evening, you came in early. Thought you’d beat the morning circus. Instead, somehow, you found 'Mr. Lazy Always Getting Everybody Late TO EVERYTHING' already there, coat still on, hunched over a notepad like it had done something to offend him. He didn’t hear you at first.

“I thought geniuses slept in,” you said, setting your bag down.

He looked up, startled. “Thought assistants knocked.”

“I did.”

“Not loud enough.”

You shrugged, crossed the room to refill the empty kettle. “You ever try just writing something bad to clear the pipes?”

“I don’t do bad.”

“You do nothing, though.”

He glared. “Helpful.”

“You’re welcome.”

A pause. Then: “You always this bloody cheeky, or just when I’m creatively constipated?”

“Must be something in the air.”

He huffed, but didn’t argue. When you handed him a cup of tea, he took it without comment, and for a few breaths, you both stared at the same spot on the carpet, neither talking.

It started happening more often, these accidental mornings, these in-between moments. You’d linger after hours finishing paperwork, and he’d drift to the couch and play the same three chords over and over, cigarette burning down in the ashtray. Sometimes you’d catch him tapping lyrics into the notepad with the end of a pen like he was interrogating the paper itself.

Once, he asked you, “What rhymes with ‘anhedonia’?”

You blinked. “Is that even a word?”

“Apparently.” He groaned and dropped the pen. “I’m a fraud.”

“You’re a rich fraud.”

“That doesn’t help.”

You chuckled. “Try ‘California.’”

He snorted. “Too obvious.”

“You asked.”

Later, you caught him using it. Not the rhyme, but the word. In a line buried two stanzas deep in a demo you weren’t supposed to hear. He hadn’t told anyone he was recording again.

“Thought you were dried up,” you said when you passed the booth the next day.

“Must’ve found a better muse,” he replied, eyes fixed on the console.

You froze for half a second. He didn’t look at you.

After that, the air changed.

You never talked about it. But something unspooled between you, less tension, more elasticity. He got less cruel when he was angry. You got less guarded when you were tired. You shared biscuits, half-hearted complaints, knowing glances when the press came sniffing around. Once, he asked you to help him smuggle a reel of rejected mixes out of the building because he didn’t want “the bloody suits” to have final say.

“Is this legal?” you asked, holding the bag like it might explode.

“No, but it’s funny.”

“You’re going to get us fired.”

“You’d land on your feet.”

You didn’t know what to do with that.

Some nights, you stayed too long and forgot why. He never told you to leave. Once, you fell asleep on the studio couch with a file folder on your stomach. You woke up to find a blanket over your legs and a fresh cup of tea on the floor beside you, still warm.

Another time, you had a headache and couldn’t shake it, couldn’t focus, couldn’t listen to one more half-formed chorus. John took one look at you, cursed under his breath, and tossed you a packet of paracetamol from his bag like it wasn’t weird he’d thought to keep some.

“You’re just trying to keep me working,” you muttered.

He leaned on the wall beside you, arms crossed. “Can’t keep up without your clipboard, can I?”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll think you miss me when I’m gone.”

He didn’t respond.

━━

The next day, you were balancing a stack of mail and two chipped mugs of tea, trying not to trip over a stray cable someone had left running across the hallway, when the door creaked open behind you.

John slipped in like he'd forgotten how to use hinges, quiet but not subtle, wearing the same rumpled button-down from yesterday, collar askew, one sleeve halfway rolled, as if he'd started getting dressed this morning and lost the thread halfway through.

You didn’t even turn.

“You’re late, again” you said through clenched teeth, edging toward the table where you could offload your cargo. “I was five seconds from drinking your tea out of spite.”

“Oi,” he said. That voice of his, thick from sleep or smoke or both, caught the back of your neck like a hook. “You got a minute?”

You raised an eyebrow as you finally set everything down, the mugs clinking onto the desk, the mail sliding half-off the edge. “What, did I schedule you too tightly again? Paul complained about-”

“Come with me to dinner.”

You froze halfway through straightening the mail. Looked up. “What?”

“Dinner,” he repeated, scratching the back of his neck like he wanted to claw something out from under his skin. “Out. With me. Food.”

Your head tilted. Your lips didn’t move yet. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

You stared, one hand still on the tea, the other on a stray letter addressed in unreadable handwriting. “You're asking me out?”

He looked like he wanted to choke on his own tongue. “M’not askin’ for your fuckin’ hand in marriage, am I? Just-Christ, yes, alright. Asking.”

He said it like it physically hurt. Like the sentence was too intimate to wear in daylight.

You swallowed a laugh that was mostly disbelief. “I thought you hated eating in public.”

“I do,” he said. “Figured we could both suffer.”

For a second, you just stared.

There was something wrong about how still he was. No quips. No fake bravado. Just the jaw tight, his fingers twitching like they hadn’t decided yet whether to brace for mockery or a punch. He wasn’t doing the Lennon thing, wasn’t posing, or smirking, or sneering. He was just...waiting.

And it hit you then, how rare that was.

You glanced down at your clipboard, just for the sake of something to look at that wasn’t him. Then you plucked the pen from behind your ear, flicked it open, and started scribbling.

He blinked. “What’re you-”

“Adding it to the schedule.”

His mouth twitched, curved, slow and crooked like it couldn’t help itself, even if the rest of him was still holding its breath. “Suppose that means yes.”

“Don’t be late.”

He turned to leave, half a smile still on his face.

And just before the door swung shut, you called after him, “Wear a clean shirt this time, yeah?”

He shrugged you off without looking back.

You grinned to yourself and sipped your tea.

God help you.

taglist: @sharksausages, @wavvytin, @wimpyvamps, @finallyforgotten, @lennongirlieee, @silly-lil-lee, @alanangels, @wisepainterprince, @emz2092

#john lennon #john lennon imagines #john lennon oneshot #john lennon fanfic #john lennon x reader #the beatles #the beatles fanfic #the beatles oneshot #the beatles x reader #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #beatles x reader #beatles

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hazelfoureyes · 1 year ago

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before i never really interacted with blogs(cuz anxiety and very toxic friends had my tumblr, who ive gotten rid of now) but now i literally interact with every post bc of you, you are god and i will worship you, your smut is poetic af and has my legs SHAKING(.literally.)

i am ON MY KNEES❗

also, alastor and his rivals(vox or lucifer) x reader smut? like i know alastor would be petty asf and have them watch as he fucks the living out of their beloved, im curious, do you have any ideas regarding that?(cuz your ideas are delicious and im hungry for that)

You’ve left me speechless which is quite the accomplishment, Darling. I am just a little goblin! Or like the tooth fairy, but instead of teeth I take praise and instead of money I leave filthy smut 🥺 I am so glad you removed the toxic friends and are interacting more. 💖 you deserve better and your interactions are a joy. Thank you for brightening my day! I am so far away and yet you’ve got me blushing like a fool.

oooh yes okay so! Here’s some ideas 👀

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊👑₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Energy for me is Lucifer: Here to please. Alastor: Here to win. I imagine Luci brings you to the hotel for Charlie’s Birthday party, already having a precious casual fling once or twice before. All the guests are there, everyone is dancing and drinking and having a good time. Alastor notices how you call him Luci, how Lucifer cant keep his cool when you lean closer to him when you speak. Naturally, Alastor sees an opportunity to fuck with Lucifer so he asks for a dance. He is uncharacteristically sweet and loving, willing to do anything to get under the king of hell’s skin. He changes the music to something slow, holding you close he whispers in your ear during your dance, “How can any man maintain composure around you? I feel my manners slipping through my fingers every time you look my way.” When you leave the party to cool down, Alastor follows, finding you in an empty room trying to decompress. “Would you hate me if I kissed you? Be forewarned, once I start, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop…”

Lucifer walks in to see you absolutely melting under Alastor, lipstick smeared and face flushed. But Luci adores you, your pleasure is his pleasure and he’s compelled to stay and watch, even as Alastor makes you moan and scream his name. “Who do you belong to, sweetheart?” “Whose cock are you made for?” You’re reduced to incoherent babbling by the time Alastor is finished toying with Lucifer. Lucifer can’t take it anymore and finds himself crawling onto the bed to swallow your moans and shower you in praise.

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊🖥️₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

I can see Vox bringing his beloved personal assistant to an overlord meeting for note taking, and Alastor notices your glances to him. Vox adores you, and is always on his best behavior around you to impress you. Alastor waits for you outside of Vee Tower that night for a “chance run in”. “What luck! Allow me to buy you a drink, as a welcome to hell.” Charms you as any good southern boy could, and suggests you both go back to your office for privacy. Knowing full well Vox has cameras all over the office, Alastor fucks Vox’s assistant on his desk while maintaining eye contact with the massive collection of screens there. Vox catches sight of this while skimming through the feeds but can’t break away from the video. Alastor keeps your back to the displays while bouncing you on his cock, smirking at Vox the entire time as he leans back on his desk chair. Vox is seething and finally rushes to his office to find Alastor gone and you lying on your back, still out of breath and cum dripping onto the desk.

Vox keeps you, but gets rid of the desk. He can’t let Alastor have the satisfaction of making him lose his prized employee. For weeks after, while zoning out in board meetings, his screen flashes images of Alastor smirking from over your shoulder as you ride him. He’s entirely unaware that it’s happening and everyone is too scared to tell him.

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riddlemelater · 3 days ago

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Last Call - M.R (Part 2)

masterlist | nav | part 1

⚠︎ all characters 18+ | MDNI ⚠︎

warnings: alcohol use/dependency, mentions of war, death, depiction of injury/blood, dark themes, post-war vibes, implied trauma. etc.

w.c: 3.8k

summary: Mattheo Riddle was sharp, charming, and haunted. Now he’s just a shadow at the bar—drunk, quiet, unraveling. You don’t know why you care. Maybe it’s who he used to be. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you like he doesn’t expect kindness anymore. But one things certain: you won't turn your back on him, not like the rest of the world already has.

a/n: SURPRISE! Turns out I'm too excited to hold back. Thank you to all you lovely people who've reblogged and left your comments on part 1. I hope you're all ready to lock in... <3

feedback, reblogs, likes + comments are so greatly appreciated <3

"Say, Albion?" you asked curiously, eyes fixed on the far corner of the pub where a familiar group of elderly wizards sat. "Who's the one over there with the bushy brows? What's his name again?" Your head nodded over in their direction.

"Old Silas?" Albion huffed, glancing between the group and you as he dried a glass. You nodded as his eyes narrowed in thought, watching the man for a moment as if trying to place him.

"Silas Wimbly's his name. A Ravenclaw, if I remember correctly. Bit of a toff, came from old money. Parent's spoiled him rotten too, always sent him these massive parcels of sweets— And it was the good stuff, mind you. Liquorice Wands, Pepper Imps. You name it, old Silas had it." Albion shook his head dismissively, scratching at his chin. "Why d'ya ask, love?"

You shrugged, feigning disinterest. "No reason. Just curious s'all."

Albion's eyes settled on you, watching as you wiped over the bar for the third time in ten minutes. Pretending not to feel his gaze burning between your shoulder blades as you worked.

`'Hang on a minute. This isn't about that Riddle lad again—is it?" He asked in an accusatory voice. "I told you before not to go getting mixed up with him." His arms folded across his chest disapprovingly, head canting to the side as you avoided his gaze.

Albion was giving you his sternest Dad look. The older man had taken on a sort of father role when you'd first started here. With no children of his own, the pub was all he had, and as old age was beginning to catch up with him, he'd had no choice but to hire someone else. It'd just so happened that you, freshly out of Hogwarts, a year late due to the war, had been job hunting at the time.

He'd agreed to take you on, temporarily, until you worked out what was next and he'd found someone to train up to take his place. But that had never really happened, and instead, he'd trained you as his assistant of sorts. The plan had never been to stay long, but it seemed that life had other plans for you both. You didn't want to go back into education, and Albion didn't want to find someone new. It was as simple as that.

But now the look Albion was giving you worked all too well, and you sighed and let go of the rag you'd been cleaning with, turning to look at him guiltily.

"I just can't stop thinking about him. It's been three weeks Albs, what if—"

Albion shook his head fiercely, a hand gripping onto your shoulder to steady you. He bent slightly to meet your eyes, and as he did, that familiar pressure began to coil in your chest—guilt and worry rising fast, impossible to swallow.

"What if he's perfectly alright, hmm? Did you think of that?" He said softly, "Listen, I won't pretend I'm fond of the boy, Salazar forgive me. But you're the only family I've got, kid. If it really means that much to you, I'll ask around— Alright?"

Your eyes met his, noting the crooked smile and warm look on his face. Gratitude began to swell in your eyes and you surged forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders thankfully.

"Thank you Albion," you murmured quietly into his shoulder, squeezing tightly. "You have no idea how grateful I am."

Albion chuckled, wrapping an arm around you and patting your back gently. Your cheeks warmed slightly as you pulled away from him, and he fixed you with a serious look once more.

"Look, you don't get far in my line of work without knowing where to ask." he said, and a smile spread across your lips. "I can't promise anything, but I'll do my best. And in the mean time, you just worry about pouring pints." He patted your arm encouragingly and winked.

You nodded feeling like a weight had been lifted from you. As if just knowing that you were doing something, anything, to find out where Mattheo had disappeared to, magically made things better.

The days trickled by, slow and uneventful. You were antsy, constantly fumbling for a task to distract you. You were showing up even earlier than normal, and you didn't leave till Albion himself was heading upstairs to his flat above the pub.

You didn’t ask for updates, mostly because you were too afraid of what he might say. But every time the bell above the door chimed, some part of you still hoped it would be him. Mattheo. Bleary-eyed, mumbling some half-arsed excuse, dark curls a mess from wherever he'd vanished to.

But it never was. And you were beginning to worry once more.

It was nearly a week later, just after last call, when Albion finally said your name the way someone does when they don’t want to be heard. There was a scarce few customers in, mostly nursing dregs of Dragon Barrel Brandy or Odgen's Firewhiskey. Quiet enough that no one would bat an eyelid at a hushed conversation.

You glanced up from the taps, anxious and expectant. But his expression was already answer enough.

"I asked everywhere I could think to ask,” he said, voice low, reluctant. “Nothing. No one's seen him." Albion frowned, placing a hand on your arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to let you down but it's like he's gone off the grid."

You swallowed, staring down at the bar blankly. "It's okay." you nodded, "Thanks for trying anyway, Albs."

Your voice wavered slightly, Albion didn't mention it, but you knew he heard it too. He'd just sighed wearily, the way old men do, and tried to soothe you quietly.

"He'll turn up, love. Try not to worry. Probably just had to get out of London for a bit, a change of scenery. Merlin knows this time of year is hard on us all. Him especially." Albion spoke gently, but you barely even registered his words. You just nodded, agreed with him despite knowing that your mind was already made up— You had to find out for yourself.

"I think I'll head early tonight, if that's alright with you? Try and get some rest." You murmured, wiping a hand across your tired face, "I'll be back in for my shift tomorrow, I can come in early if you need me."

Albion agreed, though clearly reluctant to let you out of his sight, "Alright love, you take as long as you need. I'll sort this lot myself." he said, throwing a glance over to the customers still sat with their near empty drinks.

"Thanks Albs, I really appreciate it." You replied, already untying your apron and turning to hang it on its peg. "See you tomorrow." you added, grasping your wand from beneath the bar and pocketing it.

Before Albion could say another word you'd already called a quick goodbye to the few regulars still left, and left the pub without another word.

You shivered, pulling your coat tighter as you walked along the street. Your mind was in overdrive, thoughts swirling around in your head like smoke. Mattheo had to be somewhere, you reasoned, in half a mind to turn up outside his flat unannounced. You would’ve already, if only you knew where he bloody lived. But you didn’t—and Albion knew even less about him than you did.

Someone had to know where he was.

Your mind flitted to his friends, to Theodore or Blaise, hell you were even considering writing to Draco Malfoy for information on his whereabouts. The only thing that stopped you was that you didn't have his address either, and you were certain the Magical Law Enforcement department wouldn't be best pleased with you wasting one of their top Auror's time with a suspected missing persons case.

That, and, you weren't so sure many people at the Ministry would consider Mattheo Riddle to be deserving of any official MLE resources.

There was one person you could ask, though, and it seemed your feet had already led you there against your better judgment. Your gaze flitted up towards the sign, which hung limply outside the dark pub, swinging gently in the breeze. Straightening your jacket once more, you slid a hand inside your pocket, pulling your wand out and slipping it up your sleeve.

Just in case.

It was risky, you knew it was, but you were desperate. And it seemed that no one could give you the answers you were looking for. So, seeking them out yourself was the next best option. A couple staggered out just as you approached, laughing too loudly, the smell of smoke clinging to their cloaks. One of them paused to eye you curiously, and you glanced away quickly, fingers tightening on your wand. Once they passed, you exhaled a deep breath, pushing open the door to the Leaky Cauldron and stepping inside.

Unlike Albion's pub, the Leaky Cauldron was still busy. Packed with witches and wizards, and all sorts of magical creatures— goblins, hags, vampires. You tried not to pay anyone attention, nodding politely towards Tom, the barkeep, as you brushed through the crowd and headed to the back door.

It had been a few months since you'd ventured into Diagon Alley, but as you tapped the brick, three up and two across from the rubbish bin, with the tip of your wand, you felt the same rush of nostalgia. Recalling the first time you'd ever come here, fondly.

The street unfolded before you in a familiar dance of moving bricks and old magic. Revealing shop fronts and cobbled streets, you'd spent the majority of your teenage years wandering in awe. But it didn’t feel like it used to. Back then, Diagon Alley had shimmered with promise. Now, under the haze of doubt and nightfall, it felt like a ghost of what it had been. Still alive. Just different.

During the war, many of the shops had been destroyed in Death Eater raids, including Olivanders wand shop. Though rebuilt to look like it once had, you could tell it was different now. Subtle details sticking out like sore thumbs, signs that had once been charmingly weathered and flaked, now sparkled bright and pristine. Like everyone was desperate to forget the way they'd been splintered and marred by pure evil.

It felt clinical now, off-puttingly so. But you weren't here to pick out every minor discrepancy you spotted; you were here for answers.

Summoning up the courage, you began to walk, ignoring the way your heart raced in protest. Albion would kill you himself if he knew what you were doing, but he didn't need to know. You'd be quick, in and out, no distractions.

You swallowed down a nervous breath as you spotted the sign for Knockturn Alley. Oddly enough, it was the most normal thing about Diagon Alley now, untouched by the raids, the paintwork was still as flaky and dull as you remembered it. Glancing up and down the street, you checked for familiar faces, just in case someone spotted you heading down into the heart of dodgy schemes and lingering dark magic.

You moved swiftly, back straight and wand clutched tightly up your sleeve. Prepared for anything— and anyone— you might encounter. The difference between Diagon and Knockturn was noticeable immediately; the cobbles underfoot became filthy and uneven, feet stumbling as you grew used to the terrain.

"Lost are we, dear?" A voice called out in a croaky voice. "I could help you find what you're looking for, you know."

Your head turned slightly, and you came face to face with an old woman, or at least, what you thought was a woman. Considering she looked exactly like the hags described in your old school textbooks.

Her face was covered in warts, teeth jagged and yellow, and she was hunched over against the wall as if unable to stand without support. Your eyes scanned over her briefly, taking in the long, spindly fingers that twisted together menacingly, her dirt-covered, splintered nails made you want to gag.

"I'm fine on my own, thanks." You hissed confidently, despite feeling very out of your depth, and swept past, continuing down further into the darkened streets.

She called after you faintly, and your face soured as you forced yourself to keep walking, keeping your eyes focused on finding what you were looking for. As you ventured further, you began to realise why you'd been so heavily warned to avoid Knockturn as a child.

Each figure you passed seemed to get worse and worse as you walked further, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling up in apprehension.

Your eyes scanned across the shop fronts, skin crawling as you spotted a shop named Arachne’s Attic selling giant, black spiders all tangled in a vast web in the window display. The shop next door, aptly named The Shrunken Shrine, held large glass cabinets filled with shrunken heads and skulls, as well as various paraphernalia which could only be associated with dark magic.

You grimaced and hurried on, spotting Borgin & Burkes, the shop which had allowed Death Eaters to infiltrate Hogwarts in your sixth year, thanks to the efforts of one— now reformed, Ministry Auror— Draco Malfoy, and the vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement.

The discomfort of Knockturn was enough to put you off ever returning again, containing yourself as you passed yet another shop, named, rather tamely, Still Life. Selling taxidermies of two-headed ravens and what looked suspiciously like Grindylow Skeletons.

Still, you walked further. Finally, you reached the street where you knew the illegal vendors liked to set up shop. You'd recalled the Weasley twins talking about it once, having managed to wrangle it out of Mundungus Fletcher at some point in an attempt to procure some ingredients for their Skiving Snackboxes.

Your chest heaved a little as you thought of Fred— his ill-timed jokes and contagious smirk that had everyone laughing. Yet another person who'd died in the name of peace, that thought only spurred you on, though. Mattheo was still missing, as far as you were concerned, and you'd already come so far.

Wordlessly, you scanned a few of the vendors; a young witch with black teeth selling human fingernails, another selling jewellery you were certain was either cursed or stolen. Or both.

Until finally you spotted him, sitting on an old soap box with his goods stocked messily inside an open suitcase. Mick Tolliver looked exactly like the kind of man who traded secrets for sickles and would never think twice about it.

He sat slouched behind a warped, half-collapsed stall that seemed to have grown out of the alley itself, the wooden frame rotted and sagging under the weight of cursed trinkets and unlabelled jars. The tarp hanging from the roof of the stall was threadbare and looked more like old clothes, sewn together to create a makeshift canopy.

His clothes were greasy too, and like the stall, had many patches of mismatched material sewn over holes, like he'd tried to preserve them for as long as possible. He had the posture of someone who'd once been taller, but he was thin, sullen even, as if he'd lost a lot of weight quickly and his body hadn't been able to stay upright.

A wiry beard hung from his chin in uneven tufts, stained yellow near his mouth from years of smoking, and it was evident by the smell that lingered around him, he wasn't fond of washing either. His eyes, though— his eyes were sharp. Beady and watchful, flickering over you like one of his cursed items, he was already tallying a price for.

"Lookin' for something specific, sweetheart?" he drawled, voice low and oily, "Or has something caught your fancy?" He grinned, and you wished he hadn't. His teeth were yellow, and even from a distance, you could see bits of food stuck in them.

You raised an eyebrow and scoffed, face soured with disgust, but determined not to leave his stall without information.

"I can assure you nothing I'm seeing takes my fancy." You retorted sharply, hand grasping onto your wand tightly, still hidden up your sleeve and at the ready in case he tried anything.

His grin dropped, and his eyes dragged up and down your body. You felt sick just looking at him.

"What're you doing down here then, my sweets. Not exactly Knockturn material, are you?" He drawled, straightening up ever so slightly. His beady eyes narrowed as he tilted his head, "You an Auror? ‘Cause I swear everything I’m sellin’ is legit this time!"

You ignored the pet name and the blatant lie about his stock, despite how much you wanted to hex him into the middle of next week.

"I was looking for information, actually." You cleared your throat, stepping closer, "Heard you're an expert in that kind of thing, stuff not everyone knows."

His sickening grin returned once more, and he relaxed, a chuckle escaping him like you'd just told a joke. Your face remained serious, focused. Grimacing slightly as his laughter turned into coughs, his hand dipped into his pocket to produce an even filthier rag that he coughed into.

"Well, well, well, lovely... then you've come to the right place," he wheezed, suddenly intrigued, "what 'dya wanna know? It'll cost you, though, mind."

Your lips parted, ready to ask him what exactly he knew about Mattheo when his fist thumped down on the makeshift counter of his stall, eyes narrowed once more.

"Ah-ah-ah. Cough up, first. Then you get your answers," he demanded sharply. "Too many people givin' me the run around, not paying up when I tell them what they want to know. Company policy, you see." he grinned, sleazy and pleased with himself.

You sighed, reaching into your pocket with your free hand, then slapped five galleons down onto his table. But before he could reach out and take the gold coins, you grasped them tightly in your hand.

“Ah-ah-ah. Information first,” you said coolly, tightening your grip on the coins. “Gotta check if what you know’s worth it. Personal policy, you see.”

You weren't sure where the sudden bravery came from, calling the shots in Knockturn Alley was hardly what you'd expected when you'd wandered in. However, you were desperate, and this place had your skin crawling from the moment you entered.

He laughed once more, coughed a few times too, then sat back against the wall. "Now... I like you," he rasped, wagging a filthy finger in your face. "So what are you after? Cheating boyfriend? Some bloke not answering your owl? I can be real convincing, for the right price."

Your head shook, "Mattheo Riddle. What do you know about him?" You questioned directly.

Immediately, Tolliver's face paled— his sleaziness cut dead as his finger dropped limply. He no longer had that seedy look about him, instead, it was replaced by something else. Fear.

"Don't know nuffin about nuffin." He answered quickly, arms folding over. "And anyone who says otherwise is a bleedin' liar."

Your head tilted, eyes narrowed. You knew he was lying; no one became that defensive if they had nothing to hide.

"Come on now, Mick. I know you know something," you pressed, reaching into your pocket once more, "I'll make it worth it," you added another three galleons next to the pile.

That seemed to entice him slightly. His head twisted as his eyes flickered between you and the money, like he was on the fence. Sighing frustratedly, you reached down into your pocket and pulled out another two galleons, slamming them down for effect.

That seemed to do the trick.

"Alright, fine!" he grunted, leaning forward and sparing a glance up and down the street, "s'long as you don't tell anyone, I told ya."

"Deal. Now what do you know?"

He nodded again and glanced around, like he was trying to reassure himself.

"He's not dead, not like the rumours are sayin'." He whispered, "But he needed to disappear for a bit. Get away from it all."

Your pulse thudded quicker, "Disappear? Why?"

Mick scratched at his beard nervously, leaning closer again like the shadows might be listening. “All I know is, he was involved with something dark. Not just Knockturn-deep—worse. Real old stuff. Ancient magic. Blood debts. Curses that don’t leave a mark.��

You chewed your lip, a million thoughts racing in your mind. You'd read about Blood Magic before, briefly, whilst studying for your Ancient Ruins N.E.W.T.S. It was ancient magic, belonging to another world, long before this one. Before Hogwarts for sure, and even older than wand magic itself. Whatever it was, you knew it was serious.

You frowned, "Blood Magic? I thought that stuff had died out years ago. Way back in Merlin's time?"

He shook his head grimly, "There are some kinds of magic that don't go away, no matter how hard you try." He shifted again, glanced around at the other vendors and shivered. "Word is, he’s got people after him now. Not Aurors. No. Not even hit wizards. People who don’t show up on any bloody registry, if you catch my drift."

You blinked, a cold sensation trickling up your spine. "Well, where is he now?" You questioned, your nerves shot and begging to show. You pushed the feeling down again.

"I dunno. But if I were him, I'd be long gone. Somewhere far away and heavily warded. Keep them away for as long as I could."

His eyes narrowed, the greasy grin flickering back. “You close to him, sweetheart? Because if you are… You might want to stay out of it. Fellas like that? They don’t come back clean, that's for sure.”

Summoning your last ounce of courage, you shook your head, "Concerned party is all."

Tolliver hummed skeptically, as if he didn't quite believe you. And you didn't blame him, you hardly believed yourself.

"How'd you know all this, then?" you questioned, shooting your own skittish glance up and down the street, like suddenly you could feel the weight of more eyes fixed on you. Watching.

Mick only smirked smugly, crooked and not at all comforting like Albion's smile. "Ah, now that'd be telling, wouldn't it?"

One of his bony hands reached out to grasp at the galleons, instinctively, you pulled back, watching him bundle them away inside a ragged, cloth bag. He hummed to himself as he did it, tucking them away in an inside pocket in the lining of his coat.

"You didn't hear none of this from me." He spoke, standing hurriedly and closing over the suitcase that held his merchandise. "Word of warning, sweets. If he's alive, and you go sniffin' around... they'll come for you, too. Best give up on him now, your boyfriend's neck-deep in something no one crawls out of alive."

Before you could say another word, he disapparated with a loud crack that made you flinch. Mick Tolliver was gone, leaving you alone to stare at the ruined stall—and his warning lingering in the air.

#last call m.r #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fanfic #my writing #post war harry potter #harry potter au #riddlemelater

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divinit3a · 8 months ago

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✸basics

call me pom! o _ u ☆ ☆ they/he & an adult 👍 ☆ artist & writer, full of silly schemes ☆ @divinitea-cafe for spam reblogs & tomfoolery - this blog is in queue jail ☆ ao3 for my crimes against fnaf ☆ taller than you (lying voice) ⚠️⚠️⚠️ fun fact alert! i made my mascot a pomeranian bc that was the first icon i made for my ao3 years&years ago. any pom gets wifi fans left out there?

✸the wares i peddle

art #pom draws || writing #pom writes || memes/goofs #sillies rambles/asks #pom yaps || fic/AU recs #cafe menu

✋🛑 Hold on, Friend. 🛑✋

Here there be goblins. AKA, There will be elements of robot gore, horror, body horror, and eye-strain in my work. I'll always tag it as such, but if that is not your cup of tea, here's your "get out of jail free" card!

✸ ☆ ✸ ☆ ✸

📝 currently writing. . .

🎭 just keep playing along (ao3 link) || #playing along (sfw, BUT tw: violence, mechanical horror) | SB adjacent ↪ horror!sun & moon ☆ horror!eclipse 🎣 animatronic mermaids (ao3 link) || #catfishing au (sfw) | submechanophobia adjacent ↪ animatronic mer!sun & moon ❄️ robotic "yeti's" || #frostbite au 💘 catch me (if I fall) || #catch me! ↪ collection of dca x assistant drabbles (1/3 ch)

✸ on the backburner

⚙️the mechanics assistant || #assistant au (sfw, BUT tw: robot gore, temp 'character death') | help wanted adjacent 🌦️ newly minted imposter syndrome || #NMIS au 🐈🐈‍⬛ eldritch aliens || #chimera cosmic au 🕹️{ TBD }

‼️ do not repost my artwork! do not use my art/writing for AI! ‼️

Beyond that, I am ok with folks using my artwork as icons/banners with credit! 💚💚💚 If you like what nonsense I get up to, (aww thanks!!) I'd love to see your take on whatever meme, AU, etc it is! I always enjoy being @'d for anything related :D

asks are open and I am always down to yap ^-^ 💚

✸lay down the law

I understand that minors will follow/interact with this blog, though its contents are intended to be (16+) while im happy to encourage young creatives on their artistic journey, we cant be friends if you are a minor. please unfollow/block me if you need to!

i dont personally draw/write explicit nsfw, but artwork/writing may be scary or spicy.

Reblogs and fic recs will be marked as nsfw/sfw.

Blog is intended for FNAF!! sorry, i dont know the webseries... but feel free to still treat my art as whatever u fancy :3 i aint the fun police!!!

✸my cup of tea

i love horror, looove, and absolute tomfoolery. silly, surreal situations are perhaps my favorite ones to orchestrate. y/n is simply another barbie on the chessboard ^-^ ;; lets play toyce?

focusing on the robotics. waiter give me ten more please

i adore everyone's AU's and renditions of the DCA!! every time i find a new one i am amazed by ppls creativity!! i am eating every single cake deliciously. i hope to draw fanart of the all the au's & fics i love, but i fear there are many. so many.

✸thanks for havin' me!!

#intro post #updated: 2/16/25 #tags to click for navigation-#pom draws #pom writes #sillies #pom yaps #cafe menu #playing along #catfishing au #frostbite au #assistant au #somniphobia au #prototype!moon

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ravenromanova · 2 years ago

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Sweet boy

Pairings: Assistant Bucky x Female ceo reader

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18+!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SUBBY BUCKY! (he’s just so pure and needy) but also a bit of dom bucky. Mommy kink, Nipple play, Oral m and f, unprotected sex, breeding kink (sorry not sorry) Riding, size kink, just really subby and needy bucky. MINORS DNI!!!!

Summary: You’ve taken quite a liking to your darling assistant.

Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!

You were the new CEO of Stark industries (it got passed down to you after your father stepped down) So being that you were the CEO you were incredibly busy. And you being busy 24/7 you decided to needed an assistant to help spilt the load. You had asked your secretary to put out an application and make a list of the best applicants, and that’s what she did as she was happy you were finally delegating.

So after countless interviews and countless people just wanting to get to you so they could get to your father, you finally found Bucky or James as you called him. He was the sweetest man you’ve ever met. When he walked into your office for the interview you were in awe of him, His long dark brown hair, Ocean blue eyes, Tall muscular figure. You almost died on the spot. And upon further inspection you found out just how smart he was. He went to yale and got a degree in engineering and wanted to get his foot in the door and the best technology company. You were quick to hire him after you finished the interview relieved that you found a good assistant along with some new eye candy.

That was about two months ago and in those two months you’ve grown extremely found of James as he did you. He was a very sweet and attentive man, always bringing you coffee and a bagel in the morning, forwards himself your emails if you’re swamped etc. You hate to admit it but you fell hard as fuck for him even though you shouldn’t. But in reality you didn’t care and neither did he.

Today was no different in the little routine youve both fell into. You had walked into your office after you greeted your staff, and settled into your office to do some paperwork. You had been in your office for all of fifteen minutes when you heard the very familiar knock on your door.

“Come in darling” You beckoned and as the door opened it revealed a very handsome Bucky walking in. He smiled as he walked in, shut the door and handed you your coffee and bagel.

“Thank you James” The words were sweet as they passed your lips causing a blush to appear on his cheeks. That was something that happened often, anytime you called him an endearing nickname or complimented him he would flush. Honestly it was the cutest thing youve seen and you couldn’t get enough.

“You’re welcome ma’am” He replied with that charming smile of his. He then took a second to look at you, your hair that was curled to perfection, the black dress that clinged to your supple body, the way your eyes glistened in the sun gods he was obsessed with you.

He shook is not so work friendly thoughts away when your voice broke the silence.

“i- uh i’m sorry ma’am what was your question” Bucky chuckled nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You laughed at him a little before stopping to catch some air. “You’re adorable James” You chuckle out. “I asked if you would want to have lunch with me today.” Bucky’s eyes widen a little at your words and he chokes on air and starts coughing.

“I mean you could’ve just said no” You tease with a smirk. Bucky clears his throat again and walks closer to your desk.

“id love to ma’am” He said as he smiled before taking some papers off your desk and exiting the room with a smile on his face.

An hour passes by and you finally finish replying to your emails with a frustrated groan. You take your hair down and throw off your glasses before letting your head fall in your hands. You love your job you really do but you cant stand all the stress that it comes with. A knock on the door brought you back into reality.

You mumble a ‘come in’ before resting your forehead on your arms. The door opens and Bucky walks in with (your favorite meal) and a smile in his face but then it quickly fades. He notices how you dont even look up at him or say anything, he also notices your demeanor.

“Ma’am?” His voice is soft as he speaks and walks over to your desk.

You prop your head up on your elbows to look at him and give him a half smile. “Sorry James i’m just a little out of it today” Your voice is rough as the words pass your lips.

“Let me take care of your emails for the rest of the day ma’am” Bucky says as he comes up behind you and places his hands on your shoulders.

You dont know what comes over you, maybe its his breath on your neck, his hands on your exposed skin but whatever it is makes you feral. Before your mind knows what your body’s doing you stand up, grab his face, and smack your lips into his. It takes Bucky a second before he kisses you back as he pushes you against your desk. You let out a slight moan as your back hits the edge of your wooden.

“I want you” You whisper against his lips after you break the kiss to come up for air. He looks at you with blown pupils as you speak not knowing what to do.

“A-Are you sure?” Bucky asks hesitantly then his eyes got wider as you removed your shirt. He nods his head once he got the hint and removed your bra before taking a nipple in his mouth. Your head falls back as you moan at the contact of his warm mouth against you. Quickly you put your hands in his hair and tug on it earning a delicious groan from him.

Bucky takes one of his tattooed hands and uses it to push your skirt up against your hips. He then finds his way to your clothed pussy and starts rubbing your clit.

“Oh fuck baby-yea just like that right there” Bucky damn near loses his mind as the words leave your mouth unlocking something in him. He releases your nipple with a wet pop before he then slides your panties and skirt off leaving you fully exposed. Bucky grips your hips and places you on top of your desk.

He wastes no time in getting on his knees and taking your clit into his mouth.

“OH FUCK!” You shriek from how good his mouth feels on you. You lay back on the desk and make your way to his hair as you grind yourself on his face. Bucky moans as he tastes you and eats you like a man starved. He takes his time as he licks and sucks on your clit since at the moment all he cares about is pleasing you.

“Fuck baby-i-im gonna cum” And just like that your orgasm rips through you just from him eating you out. He moans as he tatses your juices on his tongue,

“You taste so good mommy” He utters out not even realizing what he called you or how it set a fire within you. You bring his face back up and then bring him in for a passionate and sloppy kiss. The moan you let out when you taste yourself on his lips is sinful. You move your hands to his shirt and waste no time in taking it off. Once Bucky’s shirt is off you take a second to admire the black ink that goes from his arms to chest. You trace your fingers over the delicate patterns earning a shiver from him, the softness of your fingers on his skin set him off even more. He then grabs you and kisses you with more passion than before. Instinctively you move your hand down his chest to his bulging cock begging to be set free.

“Please mommy” He whines as you start to palm him through his pants. You’re quick to undo his belt and then slide is pants off along with his boxers. You then marvel at his red stricken cock that’s begging to be touched, never in a million years did you think you find a mans genitalia attractive but fuck his is.

You take his cock and rub it along with the precum that came with it all over your waiting hole. Bucky throws his head back once you finally put his cock in your warm pussy. He thrusts into you softly as to not hurt you but finds it hard to control himself.

“Oh fuck baby you’re so big-filling mommy up soo good” You praise him when he bottoms out. He moans as he starts picking up the pace making you mewl in pleasure. Bucky places him hands on your shoulders to get better leverage and hits all the right spots.

“F-Fuc-k mommy -i-im not gonna last long” He whimpers against your lips needing to touch you even more. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he starts to pound into you.

“y-yes baby right there fuck- god i wanna have your fucking kids” You beg and then his pace starts to stutter as you’re both reaching your high.

“Gonna fill you up mommy i promise” He groans as he starts at the place where your bodies are intertwining. Your office is filled with salacious sounds as he fucks into you at a relentless pace.

It doesn’t take long before your orgasm builds up again and you’re grinding your hips against his cock. Bucky moves his hands to your hips as his thrusts falter and his grunts grow louder.

“F-Fuck i-im-“ His words are cut off as his orgasm rips through him and he spills his cum into you.

“Good boy baby” You praise as he continues to fuck his cum into you since he’s holding you to the whole kids thing. After a few more thrusts he’s satisfied that he wont drip out of you he pulls out. You moan a little at the loss of him in you but he’s quick to make you forget as he kisses you again making your brain go fuzzy.

“We should do that more often” He says smiling after he breaks the kiss.

“Y-Yea we should” You admit with a nod and attempt to find your clothes. Once the moment is over the reality of what you just did seeps in.

“oh fuck” The words are barely above a whisper as they leave your mouth. He notices how your demeanor went from happy to frantic in a matter of seconds.

“Hey Hey Hey what’s wrong” He asks concerned as he walks back over to you putting on his shirt.

“I-I just had sex with my assistant” You mumble as you run your hand over your face in utter disbelief.

“And it was amazing” Bucky said with a chuckle and lifted your chin to look at him.

“But it shouldn’t have happened” His happy demeanor soon faltered as the words left your mouth. He thought that he had finally had a chance with you. Truthfully he’s been wanting to do this for a while since he’s been madly in love with you since you hired him.

“Well we both wanted it to happen so i dont see the big deal” He say with a shrug not understanding the position you both were now in.

“Bucky you’re my assistant- im your boss this is completely unethical” You scoffed at yourself.

“Well what if i wasnt?” He questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Huh? You’re gonna quit?” You asked offended that he was just thinking about leaving you and the company.

“Well yes but not because of this- i got an offer with Maximoff inc last month but i turned it down because i couldn’t stand being away from you. But if me staying is going to stop us from happening then ill take the position if it means i get to have you all the time” He confessed as he took his free hand and grabbed yours to put it on his chest.

“It’s kinda hard to say no when you look at me like that” You said with a fake pout as you stared into his adoring blue eyes.

“Then dont say no” He said leaning in for another kiss that was filled with love and passion. In that moment you two became more than just boss and employee. You two melted into one another and melded into one another’s soul.

Who knew your sweet assistant would be the man you’d fall for? Funny how fate works.

~the end~

i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other cites

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