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augustinewrites · 1 year ago

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satoru absolutely does not know how to ride a bike idk how i know this but i know cw: suggestive content, mdni

“that was…good,” satoru settles on, still unable to properly articulate. he whines, still a little lightheaded and breathless as you roll off of him with a laugh, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before tucking yourself into his side.

“just good?” you tease, fingertips gliding over his chest. “if i’d known there was going to be a review, i’d have done that thing with my hips that you like.”

you roll your hips against his thigh, sending a warm chill down satoru’s spine.

“don’t do that,” he warns, but his face is flushed and he can feel himself getting hard again. “unless you want to leave the kids at your dad’s for another night.”

“oh! speaking of the kids!” your sweet movements stop abruptly, causing him to peek one eye open to send you a long suffering look. “my father bought the kids bikes yesterday, and i told him you’d teach them how to ride them.”

now, it’s no secret that gojo satoru is good at a lot of things.

he can manipulate the infinity around him and exorcise special grade curses with the flick of his wrist. he knows the words to every avicii song and can make mug cakes that don’t always explode in the microwave.

there’s only one thing he can’t do.

“i remember when my dad taught me,” you sigh. there’s a fondness in your eyes as you describe the memory. it’s something special and cherished, and satoru wants that for his kids.

_____

“this isn’t funny, shoko!”

“you’re right.”

“thank you—”

“because it’s hilarious. gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer of our time, never learned how to ride a bicycle.”

she trails off in a fit of laughter. satoru hasn’t heard her laugh like this in a long time, and he’d be ecstatic if her amusement hadn’t come at his expense.

“i didn’t have anyone willing to teach me!” he tells her, huffing. “it was all cursed technique this and cursed technique that. not to mention bikes are literal death traps on wheels.”

“motorcycles are death traps on wheels. bicycles are for babies,” she corrects, though he can still hear the laughter bubbling in her response. “why’d you even agree to teach them?”

“because she did this super hot thing with her hips, but focus!” he whispers harshly. “i can’t teach the kids how to ride a bike! what if i just bought a car—”

“only you would try to buy a car for an 11 year old.”

“not for megumi. tsumiki’s basically 13. she can start learning so when she’s old enough—”

“so tsumiki is going to learn how to drive before you learn how to ride a bike? you are so tragic,” she snickers.

well, it sounds lame when she puts it like that.

he looks up when the sound of the shower running stops. “and you’re useless,” he growls into the phone. “i’ll ask nanami.”

_____

NOT GOJO

[shoko]: i heard gojo’s teaching the kids how to ride their bikes

[you]: yeah :) i’m so excited!

[shoko]: me too.

[shoko]: can you send videos?

[nanami]: I would also like to see videos.

[you]: sure. but why the interest?

[shoko]: bcs i care about them and want to celebrate their achievements

[you]: you didn’t come to megumi’s violin recital because you said you valued your eardrums.

[nanami]: It will be a fun moment to look back on when they’re older.

[shoko] yeah that ^

[you]: fine i’ll send videos.

______

the sun is just beginning to set and the city beginning to settle when you take the kids to the park.

“i really think—”

“satoru, we are not teaching megumi how to teleport to school.”

“but if he uses the shadows—”

you thrust a helmet into his hands, stern look shutting him up immediately.

“fuck,” he mumbles once your back is turned to help the kids. he shoves the helmet onto his head and buckles it tightly.

the kids walk over to him with their little bikes, the huge helmets on their head making them look like bobble heads.

you document his torture with a quick photo before giving him the floor.

“riding a bike is…super simple,” he tells them, patting the seat of your bike. “you get on, put your feet on the pedals, and…pedal.”

the kids only stare at him, confused looks on their cute faces.

“maybe you should just show them,” you suggest.

“why don’t you show them?” he quickly deflects. please please please—

“no! i’m taking the video!”

fuck.

satoru grips the handles of the bike tightly. he’s faced the worst of the worst, died and come back to life. he could ride a stupid bike.

he kicks at the stand your bike is leaning on, getting it up on the fourth kick. he swings his right leg over so he’s straddling the seat, his feet planted firmly on the ground.

it can’t be that hard, can it?

“watch and learn, kids.”

he takes a breath, then pushes off and places his feet on the pedals.

the bike rolls forward slowly. it’s wobbly at best, but he’s doing it. he’s doing it! he picks up a little momentum, heading off into the sunset—

“satoru! don’t lead them downhill!”

sure enough, the path in front of him leads down a slight decline. he squeezes the brakes and jerks to the side, sending him toppling over the bike and into the grass.

as he lays in the grass, dazed, megumi and tsumiki bike right past him. he’s sure the former even rolls his eyes.

“they have training wheels,” he says when you run over to check on him. “they’re cheating—”

“do you not know how to ride a bike?!”

“i never learned,” he grumbles, cheeks blushing at the admission.

“oh, honey,” you sigh, brushing some grass from his shirt. “why didn’t you just tell me?”

you kiss his brow, unable to hold back your laughter as he pouts. “you were so excited about me teaching them. didn’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“you could never disappoint us,” you tell him firmly. “now come on, i’ll teach all three of you.”

so you teach him, holding onto the back of his bike until he’s steady, until he’s confident enough to do it on his own.

he’ll get the hang of it eventually.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

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cjlouwho · 3 months ago

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Make It Ours

aka the one where Tommy asks Buck to move in

It started a little ridiculously. Buck didn't usually decorate his place for Halloween, but in his excitement over Bobby being back he'd gotten way too much for the firehouse and had a lot left over. So he took some paper bats home and hung them from his ceiling.

That should have been the end of it.

“We've got enough candy for a small army, I'm sure,” Buck said, resting his head on Tommy's chest, a hand softly rubbing over his pec.

“We don't really have any kids that come out to Harbor. A few of the kids whose parents are on shift will stop by, but that's about it.”

“Were you a Halloween fan growing up?” Buck asked, chills running up his spine as Tommy's fingers massaged his scalp.

“Oh yeah. We didn't really have the money to afford costumes, but I'd make stuff from old sheets or clothes that didn't fit me anymore. There was one year where-” Tommy stopped suddenly, and Buck looked up at him to see him staring out over the loft. “Are your bats animatronic?” he asked.

Buck's eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

Tommy nodded his head in their direction. “They're moving.”

“Oh,” Buck glanced back briefly. “Probably the air coming on. Makes them swing sometimes.”

Tommy halfway settled back into the bed, but it didn't last very long, because soon enough one of those “decorations” started flying directly into the bedroom. Then there was another, and another.

“Evan, you have bats!” Tommy exclaimed.

“I- oh my God, I have bats!”

Ironically, Tommy did not love all things that flew. Buck had known this since they went to the zoo two months into their relationship and ventured into the butterfly exhibit. That's when he saw Tommy dripping with sweat, barely taking a breath and clutching Buck's hand until he asked what was wrong.

And now, watching a 6'2 man made mostly out of muscle race to put on a shirt and shorts, foregoing underwear completely, so he could duck out of the loft with a yelp was truly fascinating.

The fact that he only stopped briefly to give Buck a kiss and tell him to grab his things and meet him at his place was the icing on the cake.

That man was inside me twenty minutes ago, Buck thought, a baby bat swooping above him. He felt nothing but pride.

Within an hour, he was bringing a suitcase and work duffel into Tommy's place. Tommy, on his part, had emptied him two extra drawers to go along with the one he already had there. He'd made space for him in the bathroom as well, and cleared a section of the kitchen counter because, “I figured you'd bring some of your cooking stuff with you.”

He wasn't wrong.

It took a few weeks for the bat issue to be resolved, due to the fact that Buck's landlord was out of town and no one else seemed to know what to do.

Once the place had been cleared of the bats, it took extra time for Buck to be able to air out his place and clean the droppings that had been so graciously left behind.

It didn't help that he had a pretty busy schedule, taking extra shifts before he knew he'd have a bat problem.

Eventually, Buck ran out of reasons to keep himself at Tommy's place.

One morning, as he got ready for his 24 and Tommy got ready for his 48, he decided it was time. “I think my place is now free and clear of everything the bats left behind,” he said, pouring coffee into Tommy's travel mug, then swapping it out for his own. “I'll be able to pick up all my stuff after my shift and get out of your hair.”

“Hm," Tommy hummed. "You should just move in here." It was so nonchalant it sounded the same as when he ordered his usual from the taco bar down the street.

Buck froze mid pour. “I- I should what?”

“Move in with me,” he repeated with a shrug, “if you want.” He walked over to Buck and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Think about it, Babe. I gotta go. Love you.”

“Yeah, I- I... I love you too.”

Tommy grabbed his mug off the counter and headed out the door, leaving Buck feeling like a deer in headlights.

Part of him wanted to chase Tommy out the door and ask, “How dare you ask so casually?!” The other part was eternally grateful Tommy exited briskly and gave him time to think it over.

Because, wasn't it too soon? He'd only ever done this moving in together thing one other time, and that wasn't exactly for a good reason.

They'd only said I love you for the last couple months. The words still sounded new, still made his heart swell every time they came out of Tommy's mouth. Still blushed when he said it back.

And did Tommy actually mean it? He did have a dry sense of humor that was sometimes easy to miss. Maybe this was one of those times. It was just a joke and he was meant to brush it off with a laugh.

He wasn't sure how long he actually stood there with a half filled mug of coffee in front of him, but eventually his phone dinged and pulled him out of his thoughts.

Stop panicking. Yes, I meant it. Seriously, just think about it.

Buck rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile that rose on his face.

Hate you. Be safe.

He only had to wait a few seconds for a reply.

Love you too. You be safer.

*****

“I'm kind of freaking out,” Buck said as Maddie grabbed her lunch from the fridge.

“Why are you freaking out?”

“Tommy asked me to move in with him.”

She paused briefly, eyebrows going up as she stood at the counter. “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah. Wh- Why really? You think it's too soon, don't you? It's too soon. That's what I thought when he asked, well suggested is more like it. He suggested I move in, and then told me to think about it, and then he left for work and then I left for work. And he told me not to panic and that he actually meant it, but-”

“Buck, I didn't mean anything by my really,” she interrupted, reaching out and squeezing his hand. “Honestly, I figured that was gonna happen once you stayed with him during the whole bat thing.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised. “I- I mean, you did?”

“You already spend more time at his place than your own. The bats were taken care of, what, almost a week ago?”

“Yeah.”

“And how many nights have you stayed at your place since then?”

“Well... Well, I had to work a couple of those days,” he tried to reason, “and then it made more sense to go to his place because we wanted to see each other but we were both tired from work.”

“You don't have to explain yourself, Buck,” she assured him. “I'm only saying it's not actually all that surprising.”

When Buck didn't look any more relieved than when he'd come into the call center, Maddie continued, “Have you made a pro/con list?”

He pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket and laid it on the countertop for Maddie to take. “Of course I did.”

She picked it up and read it over. “Great butt is number three? Did not need to know that.”

“It- It's a very detailed list,” he replied seriously.

“I can see that,” she agreed. “Although I can't help but notice there are no actual cons on this list.” She slid the paper back to him.

“That's why I'm freaking out.”

“Is this a bi crisis?” Josh asked, walking into the break room. “Because, if so, I feel like I should be involved. Also, I've been listening and I have something to say. May I?”

Buck nodded his head, resting his hands on the countertop. “Please. I- I could use all the help I can get.”

“Great. First of all, why are you trying to talk yourself out of it?”

“Because... Because, seven months ago I didn't even know I was bi, and then there was Tommy. And it's been great. He's funny, and kind, and he listens, and he's so hot-"

"Okay," Maddie waved for him to move on.

"Even when we argued, you know, we stuck around and worked it out. It's the healthiest relationship I've ever been in. It's the happiest relationship I've ever been in.”

“God, this sounds awful,” Josh deadpanned.

“Yeah, listen, Buck, if you don't want him I'll take him,” Maddie added with a smile. “I don't think Howie would mind.”

Buck grinned. “I'm just saying, it all seems so fast. I keep trying to think of reasons to say no, or wait a few more months, but I- I can't.”

“Okay, maybe you can't think of a reason to say no, because there's no good reason to say no,” Josh replied. “How's it been staying with him while the bats took over your place?”

“It's... It's been great. I thought there would be a big adjustment, but there really wasn't. He hasn't seemed bothered by my stuff being there, and it's been nice having someone to, ya know, come home to,” he added, a blush rising on his cheeks.

“Have you had any of the big conversations yet?” Maddie asked. “You know, kids, marriage, stuff like that?”

“Mhm. We agree on everything.”

Josh glanced at Maddie before replying. “I really don't see the problem here, Buck.”

“You don't think it's too soon?”

“I think,” Josh sighed. “I think life is really short, which you probably know better than anybody. And if Tommy makes you as happy as it sounds like he does, then you're the only one stopping you from that happiness.”

Buck rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a deep breath. “Sometimes, I still feel like a fraud,” he admitted. “Like it all came too easy. You know, I- I've heard how rough it was for Tommy to come out and all the crap he went through for years. I figure out I like guys and get a boyfriend in the same day, six months later he's asking me to move in and I can picture my entire life with him.”

“I think that's your brain messing with you,” Josh said. “Because to me, it sounds like you've had thirty-three years of searching for something that feels real, and good, and settled. And you've found it with Tommy.”

Maddie nodded. “I agree. He's good to you, Evan. Everyone can see you two love each other. I can honestly say I've never seen you happier or more sure of yourself. You don't need to doubt that. You need to let yourself have a win.”

A smile started to grow on Buck's face. He was pretty sure he'd already made up his mind, but there was still one thing that worried him. “What if it doesn't work out?”

“Then you do the opposite of what you're about to do,” Josh answered simply, “and you move back out.”

*****

Tommy already knew Buck was at his place before he got inside. The giant Jeep in his driveway was always a dead giveaway.

Half of him expected Buck's things to be neatly packed up by the door, ready to move back into his loft until his lease was officially up.

The other half expected him to be sitting on the couch with a downcast look on his face that said I'm not ready to move in with you without having to actually say it.

What he didn't expect was the door to swing back on him due to it slamming into boxes.

Once he managed to hold the door open and scoot inside, he looked around at well over twenty boxes that were littered around the entryway of his place, leading into the living room.

“Evan?” he called out, a smile already on his face.

“Here!” he exclaimed, exiting Tommy's bedroom and hurrying down the hall. “Here, I'm here! So-” Buck paused briefly to give Tommy a peck on the lips, then continued through the maze of boxes as he headed for the kitchen, Tommy following behind. “This isn't everything, obviously, but I don't actually think I'll be bringing all that much from my place. The bats pooped on a lot. Like, a whole lot. Plus, I like your furniture. The kitchen will have to have some new appliances, but I already ordered what the bats, you know, pooped on. You need to let me know what appliances have a family history for you- if that's a thing- before I throw them out. Some of this stuff is, well, it's terrible. Why don't you sharpen your knives, Tommy? Mind blowing. I know the boxes are kinda a mess, but I didn't want to unpack without you because that feels like me just taking over, ya know, and I don't wanna-”

Buck was stopped by Tommy grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him in close. He wrapped his arms around Buck's waist, and Buck's arms rested over Tommy's shoulders.

“I'm guessing this is a yes to moving in?” Tommy asked, nose scrunching up in a smile.

Buck let out a deep breath, grinning back. “Yes. It- It's a yes.”

“You didn't freak out too much?”

“I didn't freak out at all,” Buck protested weakly.

“Evan.”

“Okay, I freaked out a little,” he replied, ducking his head, “but not for the reasons you think.”

Tommy tilted Buck's chin so their eyes met. “What reasons?”

“I... The fact there wasn't a reason to say no. I- I freaked because it felt like it should feel too soon, but it didn't. It doesn't. It feels right.”

That's when Tommy leaned in for a kiss far less chaste than the one Buck had given him when he opened the door.

“Do we have to start unpacking tonight?” Tommy asked when they parted, resting their foreheads against one another.

Buck shook his head. He brought his hands to the nape of Tommy's neck and drew him in again, his tongue parting Tommy's lips. Clumsily, they began making their way toward their bedroom without letting one another go.

“Maybe we could work on christening the place then?” Tommy suggested, his nose brushing up against Buck's cheek. “For good luck or whatever.”

“Mmm,” Buck moaned, grabbing at the hem of Tommy's shirt and pulling it over his head quickly, tossing it on top of a box. “You have the best ideas, roomie.”

Tommy snorted at that, his head tossing back in laughter. “God, I love you.”

Somehow, they managed to make it to the bedroom, and Buck gently pushed Tommy down before crawling over him, leaning down to whisper against his lips, “I love you too.”

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #ive got my clown nose on and I'm ready for buck to move into tommy's place #let me live #also when you aren't sure how to end a fic #an i love you always works

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just-some-random-blogger · 11 days ago

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Double Dutch

The twins walk in on you as you talk about your stupid, fit neighbor. Wonder who that is.

George Weasley x Reader (x Fred Weasley) | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, fred lives stfu, harry potter lore noob, fluff, rizzler!Georgie, typos, etc.

A/N: this is a continuation to Sweets & Sweeties but both can be read individually for the most part. GUYS IDK MUCH ABOUT HARRY POTTER LORE SO PLEASE KEEP CALLING ME OUT IF YOU NEED TO COS WHAT DO YOU MEAN I THERES AN UNLOCKING SPELL HAHAHAHAHAH | cross posted on ao3

"And they didn't just use Alohomora?"

You giggle as you momentarily lean on your mop to turn to your phone, "that's what I'm saying!"

Your friend snorts from the other side of the line.

"But," you continue mopping, "to be fair, even I didn't think of it in the moment. I was just glad they helped me get back in my shop when it felt like I'd be locked in forever."

Your friend groans, "you can be so dramatic. Why would you be locked forever from your shop?"

"Stop it. I was seriously debating throwing rocks at my window to get in."

"Wow," your friend laughs, just as the bell on your front door rings, "you're just as stupid as your neighbor."

You look over your shoulder mid-mopping, "sorry, shop's not..."

You grip your mop tightly as the tall man raises a hand, "mornin'."

"... open yet."

His smirk is lopsided as he raises a brow, "not even for your stupid neighbor?"

Your stomach drops and blood rushes up your neck.

"Bloody hell," your friend's voice on loud speaker reverberates in your empty bake shop, "did your fit neighbor walk in?"

The said man chuckles and you nearly whack your phone with your mop. You quickly end the call and grit your teeth in embarrassment, unable to turn back to the red haired man that was laughing yet again.

"Fit neighbor, huh?"

You clear your throat as you decide to put a brave face on and feign ignorance. You turn to him with a dramatic hair flip and shrug.

Fred or George Weasely smiles then hums, crossing his arms. Which one he was, you couldn't tell. "Glad to know you find me fit, love."

"I-" you clear your throat, "that wasn't about you."

His brows quirk and his lips part. He scoffs in offence but his smile is still visible, "don't tell me you think I'm stupid and my brother's fit." He walks over, shaking his head, clicking his tongue, "you have terrible taste in men."

You snort to mask the feel of your face burning, then pretend mopping is more exciting you really think it is, "I-" you clear your throat as you clean the tiles in front of your cake display, "don't even know which one you are."

The sheer dramatics of his gasp forces you to look back at him. The Weasley has a fist on his chest, pretending he was stabbed. He grunts in faux pain, "you're telling me I look exactly like Fred?" He rests the back of his hand on his forehead and turns away, "the horrors."

The laugh he pulls out from you is dangerous. It's full and giddy. It's more than amusement, it's full blown endearment that makes your belly roll. You stifle your laughter with your sleeve, feeling warmth linger on your cheeks. Your heart races as he, as George, saunters in front of you, hands smoothly sliding into his pockets. He tilts his head with a sigh, "might have to get even for that terrible remark, my..." he looks around the shop, "sweet neighbor."

You look up at him, pursing your lips to withhold your smile. You shrug, "I doubt a boy named Georgie can do so much damage."

He snorts and shakes his head, "cheeky bugger."

You tense when he leans forward.

"Did you just dare me to do you some damage, sweetheart?"

You open your mouth, but a strangled gasp is all that leaves you because he places his hands atop yours as he takes your mop from you.

"I feel like you don't need anymore damage, considering you did just break a mug."

You stare at him as he haphazardly starts mopping around. Your belly reacts to how he circles around the mop and shoots you a grin. You gulp, "how did you know I broke a mug?"

"Pfft," he scoffs, straightening up, resting his elbow on the top of the mop. Damn, he was tall. "I heard it break. Why do you think I came over here? To check on you!"

Your brows furrow as he puts the mop aside, "how'd you know it was a mug though?"

Georgie shrugs, "well, cause I'm a genius."

You give him a look.

He mirrors your look, then slowly begins to lean forward again, "d'ya want me to prove it?"

Your heart races as you slowly lean back, "w-what? No?"

"Wicked," he grins, straightening up, "you think I'm a genius, do ya?"

"W-What?"

"I just called myself a genius and you agreed," he puts his hands in his pockets and moves towards your cake display. He points, "that looks really good."

You compose yourself by brushing your hair back, "shop's not open yet, genius."

Georgie turns to you with a grin. He breaks into a chuckle, "why not?"

"I'm still cleaning."

He looks around the room and pulls out his wand from his pocket, "I-"

"No!" you raise your hands, "I like cleaning!"

He lowers his wand.

"I don't have anything to do before opening, and cleaning, you know..." you trail off and look away.

"No, I don't actually," he tilts his head in interest, "cleaning what?"

You shrug as you look back at him, "it gives me something to do."

He purses his lips and raises his brows, "wouldn't you rather do something fun?"

You chuckle and shake your head, "that's easy for you to say. You own Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

Georgie shakes his head and raises his hands, "that's ex-"

"And you have your twin brother."

"... so?"

"You have someone to have fun with. I bet you never get homesick at all."

"Oh," he lowers his hands, "distraction for the loneliness, is it?"

You purse your lips and shrug, "yeah."

He offers you a soft smile, "I'm not a genius actually," he points his thumb over his shoulder, "your broken mug pieces are on your counter."

You turn to said object and counter, feeling bashful that you forgot about it, "oh, that's-"

"And I didn't come here because I heard you break it," he buzzes his lips then rubs his ear, "I don't think my ears are good enough for that."

You raise your brows, "I mean, I figured. I don't think anyone's ears are good enough for that."

"I did come here because I wanted to spend time with you."

You freeze.

"Want," he corrects, "I want to."

You feel blood rush up your face.

"That is," he motions vaguely and shrugs, "only if you want to take back what you said about me being the stupid one and Fred being the fit one."

"You think I'm fit?"

You both turn to the front door, only realizing now the bell had rung. Your face was burning, "I-"

"This isn't about you!"

Fred walks in, "oh, ho, ho, I do beg to differ."

Overwhelmed by the two Weasley men who begin to bicker in front of you, you step back unable to do anything but watch for a moment. That is until George says:

"No, I told you I think she's cute."

Fred scoffs, "I totally said she was cute first!"

"Keep lying, you liar."

"I literally told you the moment she w—"

"SHOP'S STILL CLOSED!" you blurt, making them turn to you. You gulp as they turn to you, and exaggeratedly clear your throat, "though I appreciate you both," cough, "think I'm cute, I have to prepare things."

"What things?" they ask in unison.

You stutter, "t-things!"

"I can help," they say at once, turning to each other, "Jinx. Double jinx. TRIPLE J-"

"GET OUT!" you point to the door, "respectfully."

The twins visibly deflate. George smacks Fred on the chest, "this is all your fault."

"Mine?" Fred scoffs, "you're the one that-"

You cut their bickering off short by pushing them towards the door. They begin to protest but do not try to overpower you to stay inside. You huff once you manage to kick them out and wave them goodbye.

"I thought we could drop by at any time for a cuppa?!" George calls out.

Fred huffs and cups the sides of his mouth, "liar!"

You chuckle softly under your breath, face warm as ever as you give them a look, "later! Once I open!"

They both huff and turn to each other. Fred says, "that's not any time, now is it."

"No, it isn't," George agrees.

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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

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Escaped Convict!Eddie Munson x Innocent!Reader

Summary: a peaceful morning of reading and coffee is interrupted when you stumble upon convicted murderer and prison escapee Eddie Munson, and your kindness towards him does not go unrewarded.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), oral (f! receiving), fingering, corruption kink, 'sir' kink, spitting, biting, mention of blood, mention of assault/murder

WC: 2.6k

A/N: in this fic, "innocent" refers to some sexual inexperience. Eddie and Reader are both in their mid-20s and neither are portrayed as childlike.

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

At first, you don’t think anything of the slight rustling noise coming from the trees. It’s been a windy morning, the leaves swaying in the breeze since you’d first sat down at your favorite picnic bench, book in one hand and travel mug full of coffee in the other.

Now, you’re several chapters in, coffee long gone, the air warming as the sun reaches its peak in the sky. It’s almost time for you to head back home and get some lunch, and you begrudgingly tuck a bookmark into your tattered copy of To Kill a Mockingbird.

You hear the noise again; this time, it’s not accompanied with a gust of wind, and it draws your attention to an overgrown shrub in the near distance. Curiosity gets the best of you as you peer over it, but nothing could have prepared you for what you find.

One hand shoots out from behind the bush, yanking your wrist and pulling you down. Your jean-clad knees scrape against the cold ground, grass stains seeping into the fabric. A terrified squeal remains trapped in your throat, but you’ve gone completely silent in horror. Before you can process what’s happening, you feel a palm against your mouth.

“Don’t move,” a voice growls, low and slow against the shell of your ear. You keep your eyes staring straight ahead, unwilling to make contact with your captor. “You work with the cops? Hmm?” When you shake your head, his grip loosens slightly. Maybe it’s also because he can feel you trembling within his grasp, not even contemplating fighting back. “If I let you go, you promise you won’t tell a soul?”

You nod against his hand, taking a gasping breath when he hesitantly breaks contact, still unsure about trusting you. You try to scramble to your feet, but your body betrays you; every bone is gelatinous. Falling back with a pathetic whine, the adrenaline fades and the emotions it had been staving off comes flooding in. Tears fall from your eyes, hot as they slide down your cheeks in heaving sobs. The man swears under his breath, evidently distressed that you’ll give away his hiding spot with your crying.

“‘M sorry, ‘m sorry,” you apologize weakly, wiping at your face haphazardly and trying once again to stand. You’re successful this time, but before you can run away, you get a glimpse of him.

He’s absolutely filthy; a mixture of blood and dirt covers his hands and bare feet. A formerly starch-white undershirt is caked in the same grime, bright orange jumpsuit tied around his waist. His hair is matted in several places, though you can see a semblance of curls amongst the knots. And the expression on his face is not one of anger or violence, but of fear. The same fear that wraps around you like a boa constrictor, squeezing and choking until there’s nothing left to feel.

It’s his eyes, the deep brown windows to his soul, that give away his identity. And though his current get-up is a stark contrast from the ill-fitted suit he’d worn to his televised court appearances, you know who he is.

Eddie Munson: murderer, prisoner, and now, escapee.

Your own eyes widen, and you take a staggering step back. You’d seen on the news that he’d broken out of Indiana State prison three days ago, but you’d never imagined that you would be the one to find him.

“What the fuck are you waiting for?” he snarls, snapping you from your stupor. “Just go!” He scoffs disbelievingly, not understanding why you haven’t taken off bolting back through the forest.

To be honest, you’re also unsure why you remain in place. You’d followed Eddie’s case since the moment it had first broken: a man leaving a bar in the strange hours that are past the night but not quite morning, plans of trekking home derailed by the sound of a woman’s frantic scream. Without thinking, Eddie ran towards it, fingers digging into a man’s throat to pull him off of her. He could have stopped there, the jury argued; he should have stopped there, but he didn’t. His fist connected with the offender’s cheek, delivering one punch after the other until his own fists were battered and bloodied.

Eddie might have been hailed a hero if the perpetrator hadn’t been Jason Carver: All-American basketball player, a senator’s son, and most importantly, a man whose family had access to the best lawyers money could buy. The court overlooked Eddie’s act of courage in favor of the murder he’d committed and sentenced him to twenty years behind bars.

Was he innocent? Technically, no. But he also wasn’t the cold-blooded killer the media portrayed him to be.

You extend your hand, wincing at the way it shakes in front of you. “Let me help you, Eddie.” He flinches at his name, pulling back from you. “I…I can hide you, if you want.”

“Wh…what?” There’s no way he heard you correctly. You, the young woman in the soft sweater and frightened but kind eyes, just willingly offered to harbor a fugitive? “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says gently, pinning his hopes on you recognizing his authenticity, “you don’t have to do anything for me.”

“I know.” You keep your hand out, biting your lower lip with so much force that you could draw blood. “I want to.”

With a plethora of reservations, he accepts your proposal as you discreetly lead him to your car. You naively expect him to sit next to you, but he opts to lay down in the backseat where nosy drivers are less likely to spot him. He pulls his knees to his chest, hugging them tight to shrink himself even further.

“If we get caught,” he whispers as you turn the key in the ignition, “tell them I made you do this, okay? Promise me.”

“Y-Yes. I promise.”

At your apartment, you point Eddie in the direction of the shower while you start on lunch. There isn’t much to choose from, but you crack open a can of Campbell’s tomato soup and make three grilled cheese sandwiches: two for him, one for you. You pour the soup into two bowls just as you hear the water turn off.

“Um, Sweetheart?” The nickname sets off a flurry of butterflies in your abdomen. “Do you have anything for me to wear?” He steps out of the bathroom, just a towel slung low on his waist. Droplets fall from his hair down his chest, blurring the lines of his tattoos. A dusting of brown hair trails from his navel and disappears below the towel. “I could put my own stuff back on, I guess, if you don’t.”

You will yourself to look away from the living, breathing artwork standing before you. “Y-Yeah, give me a sec.” Your arm grazes his torso as you walk past him towards your room, goosebumps appearing on your skin, and not just from the cooling water. Digging through your drawers, you manage to find a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt that your ex-boyfriend had left behind, never bothering to return to collect it. “Here,” you say; he doesn’t question why you have men’s clothes at the ready, just takes them gratefully and pads back into the bathroom to change.

You’re left breathless again when he walks out again, fully clothed. His biceps strain against the cotton material, filling it out better than your ex ever could. And his lack of underwear is evident, the outline just visible through his sweats.

He’s gorgeous.

Eddie devours the food like it’s a delicacy, rather than canned soup and some Kraft slices on Wonder Bread. Perhaps, after years in prison and an undisclosed amount of days on the run, it is. He brushes the crumbs from his hands into his empty bowl and leans back with a small stretch. “Thank you,” he mumbles with a small smile, leaning over to take your own used utensils. “I’ll wash these. ‘S the least I can do.”

You nod, not wanting to protest and risk making him feel like he’s a burden. “How long can you stay?” you ask softly, nervously picking at your fingernails. “I mean, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need, but I know you probably shouldn’t stick around in one place for long…” You feel silly saying it, like you have any idea of what the protocol is for running away from prison.

“Not long,” Eddie admits, wiping the sponge over a spoon before rinsing it and placing it in the dishrack. “Probably should head back out as soon as it gets dark again. But, really, I can’t thank you enough. The warm shower, the food, the clean clothes…just wish I could repay you somehow.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes flick across your body, soaking in the sight of you. The ache between your legs pulses now, desperate for him to fill the space. You’ve only ever slept with people you’ve been in relationships with; certainly never with escaped convicts who you’d found hiding in the woods.

“What…what did you have in mind?” Your voice is small, barely above a whisper as you stand up and walk towards him.

“Don’t…don’t do this,” he hisses, raking his fingers through his hair. “Please. It’s been fuckin’ forever, I can’t…” He bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head. “I haven’t touched someone like I want to touch you in so fucking long, sweet girl.”

“You want to touch me?” You’re shocked at his candor, the way he readily confesses his needs. “W-Where?”

Eddie exhales, gliding his forefinger down your cheek. “Everywhere. I can’t get enough of you. Pretty little bookworm just begging to be corrupted, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you squeak, letting your palm fall to his bicep.

“Need to hear you say it,” Eddie urges, for your sake and his. His breath tickles below your ear. “Say it for me, sweet girl.”

“Corrupt me, Eddie.”

His hands are on you in an instant, pinning you against the countertop. Your lips find each other with the force of magnets, a clashing of teeth and tongues more fervent than you’ve ever experienced. He hoists you on top of it, tugging on your jeans and panties until they’re on the ground.

“‘M gonna taste you. See if you’re as sweet as you look,” he murmurs, crouching so he’s got a perfect view of your glistening folds. Broad arms wrap around your thighs to pull you close and he dives in, nose nudging your clit as his tongue broaches your hole. Your toes instinctively curl, back arching as he feeds off of your pleasure and gradually quickens his pace. One thick finger slides inside you, making you moan. “Goddamn, even your sounds are sweet.” He continues licking and sucking, adding another finger as you get wetter. “‘M sorry, I wanna keep eating you out, but I gotta…” His lips latch onto one nipple, giving it the tiniest bite that draws a whimper from you.

You’re surprised to find that you’re enjoying the pinch of pain, lacing your fingers through his curls and holding his face to your chest. You allow your senses to be overwhelmed, drowning them in the sensation of his mouth on your upper body and his fingers within you.

You rock yourself into him, desperately chasing the release that he’s inching you towards. It allows him even deeper, impossibly so, and you tighten around him.

Eddie lets go of your breast, focusing all of his attention on your pussy. His fingers plunge in and out as he looks deep into your eyes, not daring to break any contact. “Thassit, sweet girl,” he says in a cross between a hiss and a coo, “come f’me.”

And you do, relinquishing whatever semblance of control you’d tried to hold on to. You soak his fingers with a cry of his name. There’s no mistaking the proud grin that sweeps over his face, knowing that he was the one bringing you this pleasure. “You’re ready for my cock now, aren’t you?” He laughs when you nod, helping you off of the countertop. He tugs his pants down, exposing his hard length. He’s big, already leaking pre-cum, and you’re salivating at the anticipation of him stretching you delectably. “Bend over for me, honey. You’re gonna take it from behind today.”

“Yes, sir.” You turn around, bracing your forearms on the Formica while he delivers a harsh slap to your ass.

“Fuck, say that again.”

“Yes, sir. Whatever you want, sir.”

He groans, throwing his head back as he runs his tip along your folds. “Such a good girl, knowing her place. Gonna take whatever I give you, s’fucking good for me.” He pushes inside you, little by little until he bottoms out. “So warm, so wet, holy shit.” Calloused palms grip your hips as he thrusts into you. “Take it, sweet girl. Mmm, jus’ like that.” Each snap of his hips is punctuated with a wanton groan. “I’ve barely fucked you and you’re already cock drunk. No one ever fucked you this good, huh?”

“N-No, never. Only you, Eddie.”

You feel your chin being pulled so your head faces sideways, his thumb ghosting over your kiss-swollen lips. “Open wide, pretty little thing.” You do as he orders, his saliva coating your tongue as he spits into your mouth. “Mine,” he declares possessively, eyes widening as you swallow what he’s given you without even being asked.

He pushes down on your back, your breasts pressed against the counter while he thrusts faster and faster, no longer concerned about holding back. “‘M gonna come on your ass.” He squeezes there, turning himself on further just having your supple skin in his grasp.

And because you know how wild it drives him, you consent with a, “yes, sir.”

Eddie pulls out just in time, his hot spend spilling out of him and onto your flesh. You wish you could see the way he’s adorned you, but you’ll have to settle for the feeling of him dripping down your curves. He stands behind you, panting heavily, holding his softening cock in one hand.

“God fuckin’ damn, sweet girl,” he mutters, reaching over you to grab a paper towel. It’s scratchy as he cleans you up, then takes another and wipes the residual cum from his tip. “You really are perfect.”

You face him and gingerly kiss his lips, probably too intimate for the utter filth you’d just engaged in. Still, he returns it, hands roaming your body with intent but no real destination.

“Mind if we get some rest?” he asks, poorly stifling a yawn. “You, uh, kinda wore me out just now.”

You lead him to your bedroom, both of you climbing under the covers wordlessly, heads barely hitting the pillow before you’re each sound asleep.

When you wake up hours later, you’re alone in the dark. At first, you wonder if it’s all been a dream, but when you click on your bedside lamp, there’s a handwritten note hastily scrawled on some scrap paper:

My sweet girl,

I had to go and didn’t want to wake you. I knew that if I did, you’d convince me to stay longer, and I can’t put you in any more danger than I already have.

I hope that fate will allow us to meet again, maybe if I’m ever truly a free man. ’ll be thinking of you until then.

Yours,

Eddie

P.S. burn this note and flush the ashes after reading

You do as he asked, heart sinking as the flames swallow his words. Maybe he’s written the same ones to dozens of different lovers, or maybe you’re the only recipient. It doesn’t matter anymore. All that fills your memory is the way he felt inside you earlier today.

You will it to live there forever.

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #fanfic #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #smut

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stararch4ngelqueen · 1 year ago

Note

just need soft sex with jason

May have gotten a little carried away but ✨🔨🫠

—

Time written - 12:23 p.m

“I think I can walk just fine, Jason.”

Jason’s tone in response is lighthearted, playful even.

“It’s romantic, don’t you think? Carrying your girl to bed—” he pauses and chuckles at your expression, catching view of that eye roll while sipping your drink.

“We’d be like that painting of the angel holding a bride,” he suggests with a wide smile. “C’mon, not the first time I’ve done it.”

“Oh my god,” you giggle, tilting your head back in exaggeration. “Wow, look at you trying to be all cute and chivalrous.”

“Hey, let’s not downplay it. I thought I was being the most romantic guy ever,” he pouts, his expression turning faux-offended.

“I guess not,” he shrugs. “If you can’t appreciate that.”

He leans against the kitchen counter, acting as if he really is hurt. Then, without warning, he turns around to face you, broad hands clutching hold of you by the waist.

He hoists you up over his shoulder without hesitation, smirking from your sudden surprised yelps. He leaves your abandoned tea mugs behind, neglecting the lightswitch as he carries you down the hallway.

“I can walk Jase—!” Your amused beginning cuts off with an abrupt gasp when a firm palm smacks down on your ass, your shirt riding up over your curves.

“Can’t walk if your feet aren’t on the ground.”

“Jason!” Your annoyed tone didn’t last more than half a second before a smile breaks over your face. Chivalry was never dead with a man like him.

Your joyous fit of giggles merely died down after he gently sets you into bed, your head settling along your minor pile of unnecessarily comfortable pillows. Jason joins you without a second thought, his broad body comfortably caging you in. Any light from the hallway shadowed out once he floods your vision, enveloping you in a blanket of safety.

Then, without word, he presses his lips against yours, gently nudging your legs apart to snugly settle in between them. His breathing grows slightly rough, his braced hands grip tightly to the sheets as he feels your delicate little fingers find purchase along his back.

One of your hands trails up and down along his spine, causing the hair on his neck to flare up. He can already feel himself getting worked up, the hunger within him getting a little harder to control.

Jason spares a hand to roam along your minimally clothed body, running his palm along the soft skin of your hips and thighs.

A soft, little hum leaves your plump lips, his hand grasping along your soft, moisturized hip. The ache that bloomed in his gut desired more of those sweet noises, biting down on your tongue before rocking his hips forward.

You might’ve been just as eager as he was, your damp panties leaving a little impact against his navy sweatpants. The paired friction makes his waistband tug down, exposing the taunt v-line visible by lack of boxers.

“Jason,” you whimper out his name in the midst of him proceeding to litter your neck with kisses. He knows what you’re going to ask, he’s well aware of it. All he wanted was the green light to do it, one word to allow him this privilege.

“Yeah baby?” He murmurs against your skin, anxiously awaiting permission.

“Please.”

Such a gorgeously spoken sound, accompanied with a pretty bloom on those supple cheeks.

Jason groans as his body shivers. As much as he wants to control himself from going too fast, he wraps his arms around your legs, hoisting them up around his waist as he gives in.

With resuming where he left off, body hands running further up your body. You wore no bra to sleep, per his advantage. Pulling off the very shirt you borrowed from him to sleep in, he’s pleased with the sight of your breasts gently bouncing after momentarily sitting up.

“Oh my God,” Jason utters out in the midst of a groan, his calloused palms cradling both your sweet, glistening tits. “Mmm. Fuck, babe.”

You smelled incredibly good, like sweet honey cake dipped in melted frosting, sprinkled with toasted sugar. He’d fall asleep with his nose buried into your neck nearly every night, blessed with such a comforting fragrance off your warm body every morning.

You stuck to his memory as well as his clothes, every part of you tasting as sweet as your scent. The falsified rumors of the late Queen of France’s words held the most truth when Jason thought of eating you.

“Smell good?” You teasingly hum, biting your lip from his thumbs circling both your nipples, imagining your tiny hands in comparison to his rub luscious body butter along your chest every night after your shower.

“Smells fucking amazing.” He grunts, gently pinching both your nipples in between his fingers. Whatever smart remark you’re about to make dies in the back of your throat as Jason leans down, teasing your nipple in between his teeth. You suck in a deep breath, tangling your fingers into his messy black hair.

He’d help you take another quick shower after this, for now, all he needed was you.

Four fingers hook along your thin panties while assaulting your other nipple, your hips raising to comply with him pulling them off and down your legs.

“Oh, fuck,” Jason lowly groans from such a pretty sight greeting him from in between your legs, teal eyes heavy lidded with overpowering lust.

Jason shifts himself closer, raising your hips off the bed to rest further up along his lap. Both thumbs caress the smooth skin of your inner thighs before tracing around your puffy lips, one thumb nudging your clit before inserting two fingers into your pussy, pumping them at a slow pace.

Jason utters plenty of dirty, feverish promises as he pumps his fingers in and out at a quickening pace, his thumb moving in fast circles around your throbbing clit. He can’t wait to feel your rosy walls squeeze around him, muttering in between a handsome chuckle that your pussy is crying for it, gushing around his fingers so quickly.

Purplish plum colored hickies coat your inner shoulder as he draws a slow, modest orgasm from you, hooking his fingers with every buck of your hips, making you quiver and squeal.

Prayers composed of his name alone continuously leave your tongue, your pussy drooling as he removes his fingers, strings of arousal connecting between both digits. Chest heaving while Jason sets you back down, glazed over eyes watch his free hand tug down his constricting pants, pulling himself free from his confines.

He strokes himself with his wet fingers, further coating the tip of his fat, leaking cock with additional lubricant. He always knew you needed prep; not only wanted to, but needed to. He wasn’t being cocky (too cocky anyway) about his size, he was incredibly blunt about it when it came to the first time you had sex.

Even more so when he had been your first.

He never wanted you to hurt, even when the itch of impatience nagged at his brain to fuck you here and now.

His hand cradled the back of your head, fingers interlacing with your shower damp hair. To further stoke those flames, he parts your flushed lips with still damp fingers before shoving them in, tasting of salty precum and yourself as you run your tongue along them.

“Ohh, fucking dirty girl.” Jason mutters while watching, catching the crook in your lips form while sucking on his fingers. He takes your lips after retreating them, sucking on your tongue while lightly fucking himself with his hand, slicking up a majority of his length.

He guides himself closer, fighting back a grunt as the thick, heavy length of his cock rests across your slippery opening, sticky and sweet with arousal.

The both of you moan as he pushes inside, your walls stretching tightly around his girthy head. A low groan of satisfaction erupts from his chest while he sheaths himself in your warmth, his breath coming out hot and embarrassingly shallow through his nose.

“Fuck,” Jason mumbles before stifling a sharp whimper, fingers tightening on your hips in a death grip. “Shit, Princess. so goddamn tight.”

The heels of your feet digging into the back of his thighs, your nails drawing crescents into his skin. You want him as deep as he can possibly get, until you can’t remember where you end and he begins. The stretch is deliciously potent, a reminder that no matter how many times you do this, you’ll never fully get used to him. Neither of you would have it any other way.

He moves quite slow, rocking his hips in a speed that carries no pick up or roughness as he absolutely loses himself inside you. His lips roam all over your face, kissing away winces and mumbling soft apologies to your whimpers while you adjust.

Regardless of the pace, being stuffed full of his cock garnered pleasurable tears spewing from your eyes.

Your nails drag against his biceps, leaving raised lines along his muscles. He quietly pleads for you to dig deeper, desiring for his blood underneath your nails, wanting your marks to affect him for as long as possible.

The stinging pain has the desired effect on Jason, who spews out a sharp kiss as he thrusts into you hard once. The bed squeaks, the mattress buckling in the frame as it thuds against the wall.

A little cry leaves your mouth, your hips hitching up until your walls swallow him whole. Skin directly flush against skin, him buried so deep, kissing your cervix directly, his blunt head throbbing all against your sweet spots.

“Shhh,” Jason exhales against your cheek, both hands cradling your cheeks with eyes full of guilt from his impatient mistake.

“Shh, babe. M’sorry.” He reassuringly whispers along your lips, massaging soothing circles along your sides. “You’re alright, you’re okay. There’s my girl, my pretty girl .. takin’ me in so damn good.”

The gentle rock of his hips after a moment of rest isn’t subtle, much softer than either of you have had yet, but hot. So genuinely hot that the pure compassion between two star struck lovers almost makes up for the lack of speed. Two, aroused bodies taking in on such erotic pleasure as they made love for the first time all over again.

Jason catches your lips in a messy kiss as he plunges into you again and again, skin softly patting against damp skin.

Your lips travel along his sharp jaw, looking for the one spot by his ear that almost always makes him unravel each time. He tenses as you find it, cursing richly in your ear before grasping you closer.

“G-God fucking damn, Princess, you’re killing me,” he grunts out, growing a little louder before his voice cracks, gifting you a symphony of eagerly impatient whimpers whilst fisting handfuls of bedsheets, finally rutting into you just a little faster.

You can tell from the sloppiness that he’s close, and you’re not far behind.

You know every one of his weaknesses. Hell, you were at the top of that list, and it scared the shit out of him. Now, it makes him feel secure. And it’s in that security that he gives you everything.

His hips stutter as he fills you with thick, heavy ropes of cum, forcefully buried deeply with each staggered, drawn out thrusts. A cracked whisper of your name is all the warning he gives before flying over the edge, dragging you down with him shortly after.

You didn’t care if he finished first, all that mattered was the stark beauty of him that displayed across his face while he did it. Furrowed brows, eyes screwed shut in euphoria.

“I love you,” he chokes out, grunting heavily in your ear while hugging you against him for dear life, muscular arms slipping under your arched back, his pelvis rocking deliciously against your sensitive clit. “I love you I love you, I fucking love you—“

“I love you too,” you whimper out during a shudder, overstimulation creaking up and down your spine. You have him in a death grip, legs tangled tight around his waist, arms still tightly secure around his shoulders.

Your most favorite expression on him was the relief that followed after the euphoric tension diminished. Facial muscles melting as every inch of stress vanishes from his body, coupled with the satisfaction of doing so with the woman he so dearly loved.

His most favorite expression on you was the beautiful glimmer in your eyes after opening his. Gorgeous irises full of crystalline tears, tinted pink with satisfaction and awe of doing so with the man you so dearly loved.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd gotham knights #jason todd smut #jason todd x #jason todd dc #I don’t know how to end it #but this is all I got #🥹🥹🥹

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crsssie · 4 months ago

Text

Thinking of childhood friend!Leon after wolfie's fic

childhood friend!Leon who grew up making dirt cakes in your backyard, muddied face matching yours when his aunt gasps in horror, wiping the mud on your faces with a frown as you both giggle

childhood friend!Leon who sticks around you in elementary school, punching a bully in the face in middle school, and sticking mostly to himself in high school outside of your immediate circle

childhood friend!Leon who has a copy of your housekey from your parents, coming over unannounced sometimes

childhood friend!Leon who does college apps with you, applying to all the colleges that you do to try and go with you — your mom says it's better for you to have someone you know in uni

childhood friend!Leon who almost marries one of his heartbreaks, well aware of all that's coming, abandoned engagement ring and letter unsurprising. Not to him. Not to you.

childhood friend!Leon who calls you, twenty-one and single, groaning into his phone about how he had fucked up. Too young for this, he cries. should've been honest with you. He mumbles.

childhood friend!Leon who shows up at your window drunk at 3am, deciding he should be honest for once.

"Hey."

"Hey." You open the window, raising a brow at Leon in the tree. "What are you doing here? You still have the housekey."

"Your parents would kill me if I broke in this late in the night." He mumbles.

"What brings you here?" You rest your chin on the palm of your hand, squishing your cheeks upwards as Leon mumbles.

"I'm sorry."

"What's wrong?"

"I." He pauses. "It's fine. I just. I missed you. Couldn't wait until tomorrow."

"Is that all?"

"Let's go out." He dangles his car keys in front of you, tempting you as you raise a brow.

"In my sleepwear?"

"I have a jacket in the car." He whispers. "Please?"

"And where would we go?"

"The park." He mumbles.

"My parents will hear your car."

"You're a legal adult."

"Their rules under their roof."

"Then we can walk."

"Not scared of getting mugged?"

"In the suburbs? With my gun?"

"Forgot about that."

"So?"

"Sure."

Leon helps you down the tree, catching you and handing his jacket to you, the two of you racing down the street in a fit of giggles as the nostalgia fills him. It's incredible, he finds. The two of you are seven again in summer, summer breeze pinching your cheeks as you both make it to the park. Leon's home with you again. Leon's home again.

You land in the grass, wet from the cold, and Leon stands over you, crouching as you raise a brow.

"What's wrong?"

"I missed this."

"I did too." You smile. "What did you want to say?"

"I'm not allowed to just call you out at 3am?"

"No. I know you knocked for a reason."

"And you answered."

"If not to you, then to who?"

Leon looks down at you, rolling into the grass next to you, sighing with his whole chest as he stares up at the stars.

"I really just missed you."

"It's about the break up, isn't it?"

Leon stares up at the sky, closing his eyes as he wonders how he should say it. He's already the asshole in two stories, he can't really do anything worse.

"You're not going to like hearing it."

You sit up, glancing down at him.

"I think I know what it is."

"I like you."

"I know."

"I was stupid."

"I know."

"I..." Leon goes quiet, closing his eyes as he groans. "I don't know why I did this." He's met with silence, opening his eyes to stare at you, heart breaking in his chest. "I'm so awful."

"You are." You offer him a pitiful smile. "You were awful for putting her through that."

He closes his eyes again. "She's not mad, though."

"The anger has long simmered down." You stare at the streetlight. "She knew. I knew. We all did."

"And no one said anything."

"What could you say?" You close your eyes. "You like me. We all knew that. What were we supposed to tell you?"

"I'm awful."

"And drunk." You finally notice the alcohol coming from him. "You have your shift at Raccoon tomorrow, no?"

"Just let me." He pauses, exhaling. "I need to start clean. You'll always be the love of my life, but I... I know you won't want me after all of that."

"I know." Your feelings don't matter. Leon needs to let go.

And in the morning, Leon leaves your place without another word, house key left on your desk, window open and car missing. You don't miss him anymore, occasionally meeting back with him when he visits his aunt, catching up over coffee, but history long in the past.

And somewhere in the past, had he been just a little quicker, you would have told him you liked him too.

#angst warning LOL SORRY EVERYONE #beautiful thing of only having a fic posting schedule is i can post whatever else i want whenever i want #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #reader insert #resident evil #☾.blend

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turtletaubwrites · 11 months ago

Text

Numbers Game ~ Chapter 3

Think of Nothing Else

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 3k+

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: Today is your first day of work for your new bosses, and they make sure you know how valued you are. The Cross Guild is officially announced, and you enjoy a glass of wine after work.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Alcohol, Swearing, Angst, Smut, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Guilt, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Dom/sub Undertones, No Smut, just intense teasing and Mihawk bossing reader around, she likes it too much, Dom Dracule Mihawk, Is it a foot thing if he touches your foot with his hook and calls it pretty? 🤷🏼‍♀️, Reader wears a skirt and heels

A/N: It's a very stressful work day, y'all. Reader needs to relax 🤭🍷

“Don’t tell me you’re slacking on your first day.”

“No, sir,” you stuttered, stumbling out of bed at the threat of Crocodile’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Don’t keep us waiting,” Mihawk’s voice drawled as you stripped, emptying your bag onto the bed to search for something to wear.

“We’ll leave a guard waiting for you. You’d better not look like a circus freak when you're done.”

Crocodile huffed, heavy steps moving away.

You fell back against the bed, naked and clutching at your chest as your heart tried to leave your body.

“Fuck…”

You didn’t have many professional clothes left after all these months with Buggy. There were probably some hidden in his quarters still, but you doubted they’d let you go back there again.

Miraculously, you found a black pencil skirt. The slit along your thigh was far higher than you’d have gotten away with while working at the bank, but it was the closest you could find to normal clothes.

Everything else was neon, or had ruffles, or glitter.

‘Look at my flashy girl.’

Buggy’s pleased voice floated through your mind, the memory making your body crave a version of him you couldn’t imagine anymore. Where was that wild pirate that had whisked you away from your boring life? Where was the man who could please you with his body in ways you’d never thought possible before?

He was probably still bleeding on the floor.

While you dealt with the consequences of his actions.

You found a top that was a solid color, hoping that they’d ignore the fact that it was ‘Buggy Blue.’

The only shoes you had were luckily black, but they were meant to be flashy, not practical.

We didn’t wear shoes most of the time.

Months and months in bed, excuses and laughter filling the air. Lounging, and drinking, and fucking everyday.

Was it worth it?

Stepping into the hallway with your too tall heels, you let the guard guide you back to that open room.

With that velvet, green couch.

“There she is,” Crocodile looked up as you entered, eyes narrowing as he scanned you.

Mihawk was perched close by, a small, steaming mug in his hand.

You stepped further in, and the guard closed the door behind you, leaving you alone with them.

“You’re okay?”

That small voice held so much relief, and your breath hitched as you looked for its source.

Buggy.

Buggy sat on the ground as he leaned against the wall, dried blood caked on his face, his makeup like a faded stain.

You cried out his name, moving toward him before you could think.

Sand surrounded you, and you lost your footing as you stepped into a wave of it.

“Come now, none of that.”

Mihawk’s golden eyes pierced yours as the sand fell away, your ill fitting shoes falling to the ground as the swordsman lifted you in his arms.

He didn’t set you back down. You tried not to cling to his bare chest as he carried you toward Crocodile, and that stupid, green couch.

You held your breath as his thumbs traced lightly over your ribs and thigh where he held you.

“Look at that,” Crocodile growled, reaching out to trace his cold hook along your calf and foot.

“The clown couldn’t even give his lady decent shoes. No wonder he couldn’t protect you, if he couldn’t even protect these pretty feet."

You twitched in Mihawk’s warm arms, trying not to react to the tickle of that dangerous hook.

“I think our little rabbit is feeling skittish today,” Mihawk judged, setting you in the middle of the couch. He sat beside you, trapping you between them again.

“You’d better get over that quick, sweetheart. I’m not known for my patience.”

Crocodile puffed his cigar as you tried to swallow your fear, nodding at his threat.

Your hands were clammy as you smoothed down your skirt, fighting and failing to keep the fabric from slipping down, revealing much of your thigh on Crocodile’s side.

You settled for folding your hands together in your lap, waiting for them to strike.

“What is it you need to complete your responsibilities?”

You drew your eyes to Mihawk at his question, feeling the sticky pressure of Crocodile's gaze on your thighs.

“I, um…”

Your mouth gaped open, still feeling trapped in a dream as his eyes raked over you.

You managed to hold in a whimper as Mihawk brought his long fingers up, taking your chin by the thumb, and lifting your face to his.

“Don’t be boring, darling. I know you want to be a good girl for us, don’t you?”

The tiny sound you made couldn’t have been a moan. I didn't...

But the way Mihawk’s jaw loosened to the side for a moment had your head spinning.

I need to get a hold of myself!

He released your chin, and you started to rattle off all the things you needed in order to do your job, including your own desk, and a transponder snail.

You felt like an idiot for hoping for your own space when a group of pirates dragged a large desk through the door, setting it up in the center of the massive room.

The cushions shifted as Crocodile stood, directing the pirates to ensure it was to his liking. To ensure that your desk was in perfect view of that stupid fucking couch.

Breakfast was served, and you had to choke it down, eye’s snagging on Buggy as you wondered when he’d eaten last.

“Break’s over.”

Gasping, you pressed your skirt down with your palms as your body was lifted off the couch by another wave of sand.

You landed in Crocodile’s arms, feeling so small against his chest. The silk of his vest rubbed along your skin, an abrupt contrast from the sand he’d just touched you with.

“Wha–”

“We need to protect our assets,” he growled, carrying you toward the desk. “Earn money for some decent shoes, otherwise you don’t get to stand on those dainty toes. Got it?”

You caught Mihawk’s eyes burning along your skin as Crocodile sat you down.

The scarred man leaned over you, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face while you tried to stay perfectly still.

“We’ve got the big announcement tonight. I wanna see your plans for the first month's finances before the show. Can you manage that, numbers girl?”

“Yes,” you choked out, anything to get him to move away from you.

He huffed a laugh, patting you on the back before leaving you to your work.

“Atta girl.”

How am I supposed to work like this?

Your new bosses talked with each other, gave orders to lackeys, smoked and drank, and watched you.

Workers were ordered to rearrange the furniture, adding two desks along opposite walls for their own use. A long coffee table was placed before the couch, and you were grateful that there wouldn’t be room for Buggy to be a footrest anymore.

But they wouldn’t let you use the transponder snail.

“Mr. Crocodile, sir, I will need to reach my contacts in order to manage your funds and investments. I can’t do everything from here–”

“Not yet.”

His voice was heavy, and final.

With a nod, you went back to it. Reviewing the current state of affairs was infuriating. They ordered lackeys around for you to round up missing details on assets, and anything they had brought to the island.

It looked bad.

A tinge of panic filled each breath, making your fingers shake as you shuffled papers around. You could feel a thin sheen of sweat, your flimsy top starting to stick to your skin.

You didn’t think your heart could take beating this fast for this long.

I’m okay. I’m good at what I do. Just pretend they’re not here.

They let you work. Fear that this was just another torture designed for your failure and punishment started to fade.

You would need that transponder snail soon to get any real work done, but you had your plans drafted up shortly after lunch.

“I’m finished, sir–”

Crocodile tutted at you as you moved to stand, using sand to push your chair forward until you were seated again.

Mihawk stalked toward you, fingers grazing yours as he took the documents from your hands. He perched on the corner of your desk, humming now and then as he judged your work.

“Well,” Crocodile asked from the couch, a large puff of smoke trailing toward the ceiling.

“The current status of finances is quite unfortunate. However the work is well done. It appears she will be needing a transponder snail soon if we’re going to see any improvement.”

Mihawk set the papers down and trapped you, his gaze from so close felt like a golden cage, keeping you in place.

Crocodile huffed a laugh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“Looks like you’ll be getting a snail before you get shoes then, huh?”

The rest of the afternoon had you sitting as still as you could, as if they wouldn’t notice you if you didn’t move.

You watched Cabaji crouch down, and start smearing greasepaint over Buggy’s bruises, propping his huge hat on his head. He leaned close then, and you wondered if he had anything to whisper to his old captain.

“Let’s get this over with,” Crocodile sighed, pulling Buggy to his feet, and shoving him toward the door.

“Galdino, I need you to carry miss Y/N during the announcement.”

“Wha-Why,” Galdino choked, looking from you to Crocodile, his face pinched.

“Don’t complain. I don’t trust Buggy’s men with her yet. This is the girl that’ll get us all paid, you got that?”

“Yes, Mr. Crocodile, sir.”

“And watch your hands,” he ordered, patting Mr. 3 on the back so hard that he coughed.

Humiliation flooded through you, your skin hot as you were carried through the hallway.

Mihawk and Crocodile dragged Buggy to the balcony, while you were brought to the front of the crowd to watch.

“I’m sorry,” you almost cried, not looking up at Galdino’s face.

“It’s fine,” he let out with a heavy sigh. “It's not your fault. Just my lot in life to always answer to people weaker than me, I suppose.”

You cringed, starting to apologize again.

“Come on, we don’t want to miss this farce.”

The shuffling conversations of Buggy’s subordinates quieted down as their captain took to the small stage. The balcony was lit with colorful lights from above and behind, and Buggy stretched out his limbs to look larger than life in that red fabric of his.

He looked like your Buggy now. Buggy in his element, shining bright. There was something about him that made people flock to his charm, that made people believe in him as a leader.

Until they saw behind the curtains, of course.

Buggy. How did you let yourself end up here? Now we’re both fucked.

You didn’t even hear his speech, your mind so used to ignoring the lies that Buggy would spew from that balcony.

Until he introduced his ‘executives.’

“First… Sir Crocodile!”

Buggy’s arm flourished, ever the showman, as Crocodile stepped into the light.

He was so incredibly tall. Seeing him towering over you on the balcony, with the light exaggerating his features, made you feel like an insect. Just crawling on the ground, waiting for him to stomp you into the dirt.

“And… Hawkeye Mihawk!”

Mihawk’s glare was like ice, and the stage lights glinting off of his massive sword just added to his cold disdain. You knew he could kill everyone in the room easily, and he looked like it wouldn’t mean a thing to him if he did.

Your jaw was clenching as you tried not to shiver in Galdino’s arms.

The cheering and stomping of the crowd was so intense, you reached your hands up to cover your ears.

But you saw them looking down on you, and you didn’t want to show them any more weakness than you already had.

Crocodile jerked his head, motioning for you to join them.

You gulped down some deep breaths as you were led back to your cage.

I won’t show them any more weakness.

Your bare feet were propped on the coffee table after dinner as you stared into your glass. The deep burgundy of the wine danced in the light as your hands shook slightly.

“This wine is different…”

Your eyes went wide at your own words, realizing that you’d just interrupted Mihawk, and you had no idea what they’d been talking about.

“Is that so,” he asked, the weight of his attention shifting to you. “How is it different?”

Crocodile shifted beside you as well, his knee touching yours as he tilted toward you, caging you once more.

“I… It’s not like the wine we’ve had here for a while. It’s almost… heavy?”

Mihawk’s head cocked to the side as he watched you stutter.

“Give me your glass.”

The command in his voice made your breath hitch. He set his own glass down, taking yours by the stem. He held it in front of you, gently swirling it.

“Observe the colors.”

Nodding, you kept your eyes on the wine, feeling almost hypnotized by the movement.

“Now, miss Y/N, you’re going to smell the aroma. I want you to close your eyes, and think of nothing else.”

Your eyes closed, but you gasped, jolting at his touch.

“Close your eyes. Think of nothing else.”

It was impossible. His fingers had grazed your skin, until they twisted into the hair at the nape of your neck.

He wasn’t holding tight, but he had you. He had complete control of you.

It was terrifying.

And yet you fought not to moan at the slightest movement, breath heavy as he tilted your head gently.

“Slow down, little rabbit,” he purred, voice so close. “Now smell the fragrance of the wine, and tell me what you feel.”

The scent felt overpowering, washing over you, sending chills over your skin.

“I think I smell… plums?”

Mihawk’s fingers untangled from your hair, only to rub along your neck and shoulders, gently kneading.

“Good, Y/N. Now keep your eyes closed. You’re going to take a sip, enough to cover that tongue of yours. But don’t swallow until you let the wine fill your mouth, touching every part. Can you do that for me?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, overwhelmed as his fingers stroked your hair, moving strands out of your face.

He brought the glass to your lips, touching your jaw as you tilted back.

You kept the wine in your mouth, feeling the tannins working around your tongue.

“Feel it, Y/N. Then tell me what you taste.”

You couldn’t remember feeling this overpowered by food or drink before. The sensations were so intense, the mix of flavors almost arousing as it burned through you.

Clearing your throat, you tried to express what you were feeling.

“Plums. And it’s thick, it almost feels chewy. It tastes amazing.”

A moment of silence had your heart rate spiking again.

His warm fingers touched your cheek, turning your face toward him.

“Open your eyes.”

Again, the pressure of command in his voice was heavy. You obeyed instantly, meeting his amber gaze as the swordsman inspected you, squeezing your cheeks just a little.

“Looks like there’s hope for you yet. I was afraid that the clown might have spoiled you, robbed you of any sense of refinement.”

Crocodile’s booming laughter shook the couch beside you.

“He does seem to ruin everything he touches. Don’t you, clown?”

Crocodile called toward the corner of the room where Buggy’s form still slumped against the wall.

He didn’t look as hurt as he had yesterday, but he looked hardly there, as if he was trying not to exist.

Guilt trickled through you again as your body still reeled from Mihawk's attention. Every new sip of wine you took felt like velvet, like his hands roaming your skin.

Fuck.

He kept his hand on your neck now, gently massaging as he and Crocodile resumed their conversation.

Frustrated tears almost fell, but you managed to blink them back.

“Numbers girl,” Crocodile breathed over you, bringing you back to the moment.

“Yes?”

“You’ll get your transponder snail tomorrow. You are only to use it with one of us present. And you must give details of who and why you are calling. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. I’d hate to have to show you what happens when people disobey me,” he rasped, setting his huge palm over your thigh. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Mihawk’s arms carried you through the hall. So much of your exposed thigh was touching his bare chest and abs, the feeling of skin on skin making you want to pull your hair out with how much it dominated your senses.

How much he dominated your senses.

You hoped that he hadn’t noticed the stain of need he’d caused, slick coating the inside of your thighs as you pressed them together.

Mihawk set you down on the edge of your bed, leaning over to tease his hot breath against your ear.

“Stay quiet tonight, little rabbit.”

Your eyes were wide as he pulled away, an evil little smirk on those lips that never smile. He touched your chin, before walking away. Closing the door, he trapped you alone with the heat burning in your core, and the shame dripping with sweat down your spine.

You whimpered quietly as you ached, and you wondered how long it would take for you to stop caring about who they are and what they’ve done.

This is only the second day they've been here, and I already want to beg them to touch me. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Your sister’s voice filled your mind, asking you the same thing when you left with Buggy.

Maybe there is something wrong with me? Maybe I crave dangerous men?

Your fingers trailed under your skirt. They slipped along the mess of your desire that had soaked past your panties. Mihawk had toyed with you, and your body ached for him, dripping with need. You brought your hand up to look at the thick strings of slick as you moved your fingers.

I’m sick. I hope this shit doesn’t get me killed.

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: If there is something wrong with reader, then I may have the same issue 😅

Chapter 4

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pixie-stikk · 12 days ago

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ik it's not my usual content but i got some dr glass hcs:

for his appearance, he's around 5'7, elder gen z and large ass cerulean blue peepers.

i'd like to think he's a bit chubby or has some sort of fluff, idk it fits him to be chubby

retired crashout. in his agent days he used to be a MENACE i feel like he probably had some mindfuck scp scare him straight cause there's no way someone so kind didn't have any malice ever in his life.

he has duck themed everything. except for corkscrew bottle openers, he cringes whenever he sees it.

total sweet tooth, if there's a complimentary sweets bowl or box of donuts you bet that glass is gonna take one or two.

functioning alcoholic. that's how he hasn't nutted up as of now. he usually likes brown liquors like bourbon or whiskey. he never drinks in front of his patients but his tea mug is always a quarter full of fireball

he's really great at mindfucking people. even the most stubborn scp has managed to trauma dump for glass because he has given them gentle nudges and prods to open up.

even in his retired crashout state he sometimes has moments where he almost gouges someone's eyes out with a shiv. mostly bright has pushed him to that.

he never goes too overboard with his drinking like, ever, but on the few occasions he did, he was extremely giggly and happy. or depressed. no in between.

baking fanatic. he loves making cakes and brownies and then giving them out to his patients.

#dr glass #scp foundation #simon glass #scp fandom #scp shitposting #scp headcanons

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fanficforlife · 2 months ago

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Chapter Ten

Tate came bounding out onto the porch where you and Kayce were enjoying a cup of coffee. "I'm done. Can we go now?"

"Did you finish all of your breakfast?" Kayce asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes." Tate groaned before grabbing your hand. "Can we go now?"

You downed the last gulp of coffee and smiled at him. "I see you already have my purse so yes, we can go."

"Gator gave me the card and list for shopping."

Kayce took your empty mug from you before the two of you stood up. "You do know that it's grocery shopping, right bud?"

"Yeah. But, Violet said she gets the vegetables from the farmers market and that there are people there that make chocolates and another one that makes ice cream and-"

"I get it." Kayce chuckled as he handed you the keys to his truck. When you took them he slid his arm around your waist. "I gotta get to work. Have fun with the rugrat."

"Now's the part where you kiss. I'll be in the truck."

You giggled while Tate ran down the steps. "I'll see you later."

"Yes, you will." Your boyfriend leaned in and kissed you long and tenderly. "Stay with me tonight."

"If you're lucky." You teased, knowing full well that you would. Since you two had started having sex, you couldn't get enough of him. And, vice versa. He made you enjoy it again after years of dreading it. He made you feel safe and loved like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. It was the best sex you've ever had. It was like you finally found your other half. He was the missing piece that fits your heart perfectly and he felt it too. He couldn't get enough of just being near you.

He knew you would be there and grinned. "Have a good day, baby."

"You too." You rose on your toes and kissed him. "Love you."

"Love you more."

"Violet!"

You and Kayce laughed at his impatient son. "Gotta go. See you later." He squeezed your waist before you slipped out of his grasp.

"Oh! Look at that one!" Tate tugged on your arm as he pointed to a booth that was selling cakes of all sizes, decorated in every coloured icing under the sun.

"Wow. Those are fancy."

"I think we should stick with cookies."

You chuckled. "I think you're right. Those look like a lot of work."

"There's the vegetable ones." Tate grabbed your hand before pulling you past the baking stalls towards the fruit and vegetables. "That one has apples! Can we get some and make apple pie? Oh, and muffins? And-"

"Yes, we can get your favourite fruit. We'll have to get a box of them because I don't think one of the bags will be enough for all of the baking you want to do." You laughed and went to wait in line. The large, well-stocked stand was the one you always went to and not because it was run by two good-looking men around your age. They weren't just one of the sweetest couples you had ever met, they were your only friends who didn't live on the ranch. Not that you went on double dates or anything. It was just nice to have a conversation about something other than cows or horses occasionally.

"Violet!" The blue-eyed one grinned when he saw you.

"Hi, Chris." You smiled at the dark-haired man.

"It looks like I didn't beat the rush this time."

"No, you didn't." Mark, the blonde with green eyes, answered after coming over having finished with a customer. "But, we saved a box of the best back here for ya just in case. Aside from a couple of local restaurants, the ranch is one of our biggest customers. We gotta keep ya happy."

You laughed. "You two spoil us. Speaking of us, this is Tate. Tate this is Chris and Mark. They grow the best fruit and vegetables in Montana."

"Hi, do you have any more apples?"

"Sorry, but that was the last of them," Chris said of the case the woman in front of you was carrying away.

Disappointment filled Tate's face. "Awe, we can't make pie and muffins tomorrow."

"We do have more on the farm though." Mark smiled at the little boy. "I'll make you a deal. I'll drop off some apples for you later today if you promise to bring us some baking next time you're in town."

"Really?!"

Chris chuckled. "Really."

You placed a hand on Tate's shoulder and looked at them. "You don't have to do that. We can get some next week."

"It's no problem at all. We don't have any other plans. A drive will be nice."

"Please, Violet?"

Your eyes went back to them and they nodded. "Okay."

"Yay! Oh, are you going to have pumpkins in the fall that we can carve?"

"We will," Chris said while Mark went to help a customer. "You can come out and pick the perfect one. We're also going to have a corn maze and other games. Plus, apple cider and all kinds of treats in the little shop on the farm."

"Oh Violet, can we go?" Tate tugged on your arm. "Dad can come and we could do the maze and play all the games and try all the treats. Then we can get pumpkins to make Jack-o'-lanterns!"

A chuckle left your lips. "I think we can arrange that."

"Yay!" The brown-haired boy turned back to the dark-haired farmer. "Violet's dad's girlfriend. He really loves her, like a lot. All he does is stare at her when she's around."

"Tate." You scolded while Chris laughed.

Tate looked up at you with a grin. "It's true."

A light shade of red stained your cheeks as you pulled the credit card out of your bag. "Thanks for the vegetables. Tate, we better get moving. We have to stop at the grocery store next."

"Can we stop and get chicken nuggets for lunch after?"

"I think I could go for a burger."

"Yay!"

"And, thank you for dropping the apples off later. You've made one little boy very happy."

"You are more than welcome. See ya, Violet. It was nice meeting you, Tate." Chris smiled.

"Bye. I can take your bag for you." Tate offered so you handed it to him. After picking up the box of vegetables, you headed back to the truck.

"You look amazing, like always." Chris grinned after getting out of his truck. "One of the restaurants in town looking for some vegetables." He said of Mark who was still buckled in and talking on his cell phone.

"What the fuck?!" Kayce, who had been standing by the barn with Rip and Lloyd, pushed passed them and stormed over.

You blushed while he pulled you into a hug. "Thanks."

"Get your fucking hands off her." Kayce yanked him away from you and punched him.

"Kayce!"

He ignored you and hit him again. "You're not very bright, are you? Hitting on her when I'm standing right there!"

"Kayce, stop!" You begged but he ignored you.

"I didn't-"

"Don't fucking lie to me! I heard you. I saw you!" He tackled Chris to the ground. "Stay the fuck away from her!"

"Kayce. Kayce!" Rip called as he and Lloyd came running over and pulled him off of Chris.

John came out onto the porch when he heard the commotion. "What the hell is going on out here?"

"This asshole was all over Violet!" Kayce pulled against Rip and Lloyd trying to get free.

"No, he wasn't." You had tears in your eyes as you and Mark, who had just finished his call, helped Chris up. "I met him at the farmers market a couple of months ago. Tate saw the apples he was selling this morning and wanted some, but the person in front of us got the last of them. They had more at the farm and were nice enough to drop some off."

Kayce's face went white. The two farm hands let him go and his shoulders slumped. "Letty, I-"

"I'm sorry, Chris. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." He said with a soft smile. "I'll grab them. They're just in the back."

John came down the steps. "I'm sorry for my son's behaviour. We'll get them." He nodded to Rip and he went over and grabbed the box of apples out of the truck box.

You handed Chris the money you owed him. "I'm really sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

"The apples look great." John held his hand out and Chris shook it. When they parted, the farmer found a hundred-dollar bill in his hand. He was about to hand the money back but John stopped him. "No, I insist. I'm sorry again and so is my son."

"Y-yeah. I'm sorry." Kayce apologized quietly.

Chris nodded at him before giving your arm a squeeze. Mark did the same before they got in their truck.

The second they started driving away Kayce started walking up to you. "Letty."

You stepped back when he reached out for you, memories of Nick and his jealousy filling your head. "Gator wanted me to tell you that dinner's ready." A stray tear slid down your cheek as you turned and went inside.

Everyone walked into the dining room while you set the last dish of food on the table. They sat down, joining Tate who had been upstairs washing his hands.

You picked your plate and cutlery up off the table. "Hey, where are you going? Aren't you eating with us?" Tate asked. When his summer holidays started he insisted you start eating with them. The rest of the family had agreed so Tate picked your spot at the table, between him and Kayce.

"I'm not hungry. I'm going to get a head start on cleaning up so the kitchen will be ready for pie making tomorrow." He let out a cheer and you gave him a small smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

After setting your clean dishes down, you gripped the edge of the countertop. Your mind was a mess as you stared at your reflection in the window. The darkening evening sky made it easy to see Kayce walk into the room.

"Letty."

Your eyes went to your hands as he slowly made his way over, stopping behind you.

"Letty, I'm sorry. I just heard him-then he touched you and-"

"I would never cheat on you." You stated quietly while continuing to stare at your fingers, which turned white from their grip on the countertop.

"I know you wouldn't. I just...I'm scared." His hand hesitantly reached out, his fingers running down your arm. When you didn't pull away he closed the distance. "I'm scared you're going to find someone better. You're perfect and I'm...me. I have anger issues. I'm trying and failing at raising my kid. I love you so much it scares me. Tate loves you." His other hand went to your other arm and he leaned in, resting his forehead against the top of your head. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll do whatever you want me to. Please, forgive me."

You turned to face him. Your eyes didn't meet his though, they watched your fingers as they came up and fidgeted with one of the buttons on his shirt.

"Letty?"

"Please...please, don't turn into him."

His hands came up and cupped your face. When he tilted it up he saw the tears pooling in your eyes. "Never, baby. Never." He leaned in and kissed you as a few tears spilled over. "I'll work on it, getting angry, jealous. I promise." You nodded. "And, I'll go into town tomorrow and apologize to him again."

A small smile pulled at your lips as you nodded again. "You should go eat before it gets cold."

"You're not going to?"

"I'm not that hungry. I'll grab something later."

"I'll grab something later too then. Do you want to wash or dry?" He grinned and picked up a dish towel.

"Well, since you already have the towel, I'll wash." You turned and started filling the sink with water. Kayce's arm slid across your stomach and pulled you back against him. You stayed like that until the sink was full.

After turning the tap off, he held you tighter. "I really am sorry."

"I know." Your hands slid across his arms before hugging them. "Chris and Mark know too. A few weeks ago when I saw them at the grocery store. We went for coffee while they were waiting to go to an appointment. They're really nice and they've heard about you and your family, the ranch. They know that you were in the Navy and about how much I mean to you." You looked at him in the reflection. "Mark used to be in the army so he knows that PTSD can affect you in different ways."

"Getting angry...I'm trying."

You leaned into him, "I know. You're doing a lot better."

"Except when it comes to you. What you've been through, your ex..." there was a tick in his jaw. "I promised to never let anything happen to you again. I just take it too far sometimes. I'm working on it. I really am trying."

You turned in his arms and wrapped yours around his neck. "I can tell. Everyone here can." Your lips pressed against his. "Now let's get these dishes done."

"Yes, ma'am." He said when you went back to facing the sink. He didn't move though.

When his lips brushed against the spot where your neck and shoulder meet, you giggled. "Kayce."

He smiled against your skin. "Yes?"

"It's going to be pretty hard for you to dry these pots when you're standing there."

"I suppose you're right." His teeth gently nipped at the delicate spot and a small moan left your lips. He quickly spun you, crashing his lips against yours. When he pulled away the smirk that you loved spread across his face.

You shoved him away with a giggle before focusing on washing the pots and pans Gator used to make dinner. Kayce settled in next to you, drying the dishes you set in front of him. A comfortable silence filled the room, only broken up by the conversations and laughter going on in the dining room.

Once the dishes were done and dinner had been cleaned up, you went to the foreman's house. Tate had wanted to go to bed, even though there were still forty-five minutes before his usual bedtime. He was beyond excited about making pie for the first time and wanted to go to bed early so tomorrow would be here sooner. While Kayce tucked him into bed and read him a story, you went to wait for him in his bedroom.

"Baby?"

You could hear the door shut behind him so, after turning the water off for the bathtub, you stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but one of his shirts.

His eyes slowly drank you in. "Damn, you look good."

A light shade of red crept across your cheeks as he closed the distance between you in two long strides. You unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders to the floor, followed quickly by his jeans. All while your lips stayed glued to his.

His hands ran up your thighs and when he got to your hips they paused, finding no underwear to pull down. He smirked against your mouth before picking you up and carrying you to bed.

"Mmm," you hummed as he kissed his way down your neck. Your hands found his waist and started to tug on the waistband of his boxers.

After what he said to you in the kitchen about not turning into your ex and knowing he meant it, you needed him. And, he needed you just as bad. Once his boxers were down far enough he thrust into you. You gasped at the sudden fullness and when he did it again your eyes closed. "Oh, god."

His teeth bit down on your shoulder as he continued to move in and out of you. It wasn't long before your back started to arch off the bed as he kept hitting just the right spot over and over again. As you started to fall over the edge his lips met yours, swallowing your breathy moan and you melted into each other, falling together.

Once your racing heartbeat returned normal, you slid out from under him and got off the bed.

"No," he groaned and grabbed your hand. "I mean, the view is amazing but..." Your cheeks darkened and he grinned, sliding to the edge of the bed and pulling you onto his lap. "God, you're adorable."

"Stop." You turned and buried your face into his shoulder while the shade of red on your cheeks got even brighter.

"Never," his chest vibrated with a chuckle.

"Come have a bath with me?"

"I'm not much of a bath person but if you're in there with me I think I can make an exception. Lead the way, beautiful."

You slid your hand into his and made your way into the bathroom. "When I filled it I used scalding water so it should have cooled off enough by now." He got into the still bubbly water and you sunk across from him, closing your eyes.

"Letty?"

"Hmm?" You opened your eyes when he stayed quiet. "Hey," after seeing his glassy eyes you went over and straddled his lap, taking his face in your hands, "what is it? What's wrong?"

"Why- I keep fucking up but you keep staying. You are goddamn perfect and could easily get any man you wanted. Why do you stay with me? After what happened before dinner-"

Seeing him so down made your heartache. "Because you are an amazing man and an even better father. Kayce, Tate looks up to you more than you know. He always talks about how much fun he has when he gets to help you around the ranch. He wants to be the foreman just like you when he grows up." Your thumbs ran along his jaw. "You went through a lot in the Navy, saw a lot. It changes a person. I didn't know you before you enlisted. I know you now. I fell in love with the man who came back from the war, with who you are today." He looked down, still ashamed. You tilted his head back so he would look at you. "You make me happy. You make me feel safe. There is no one else in the world I would rather be with. We can and we will get through anything. I love you, Kayce."

"I am not worthy of you."

A smile formed, "It's a good thing you're wrong and I'm right."

"You think so?" He finally smiled back, a small one but it was still there.

"I know so."

His arms engulfed you and crushed you against him. "I love you, Violet."

"I know. I love you." When he let you go you slid back to your spot. "Do you have a lot of work to do tomorrow? Tate wants to make pie and muffins. Mark and Chris said they would drop the apples off in exchange for some baking."

"The farmers market is done at 2:00 pm, I'll have my stuff done by then. The three of us could go into town. Maybe go for coffee with them after? Tate keeps talking about the new playground they built by the farmers market."

You smiled, "Tate would love that. Chris and Mark would too."

He nodded before finally lying back and relaxing, his fingers going back to mindlessly running up and down your knee. "I could get used to this. It's actually pretty nice."

"I told you it wasn't that bad."

"You're right again." His crooked smile formed.

You watched him as he closed his eyes and rested his head back, admiring not only how handsome he was but how great of a person he was. Most men wouldn't have talked about their feelings like he did let alone go have coffee and talk to the man they just attacked. Whether he believed it or not, he was an amazing man and you were the luckiest woman in the world.

___________________________________________

Tag List: @alisbackalleybbq @a-beaverhausen @chloe-skywalker @wabi-sabi1090 @saintnourah

If you want to be added to the list just let me know :)

#fanfic #female writers #kayce dutton #kayce dutton fanfic #kayce dutton x reader #kayce dutton x oc #kayce dutton smut #kayce dutton imagine #kayce and violet #kayce dutton and violet #lee dutton #beth dutton #john dutton #jamie dutton #bless the broken road #writers on tumblr #tate dutton

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clockwayswrites · 1 year ago

Text

Like Betta Fish Do Part 23

Jason had a gun in his hand before he even registered that he was awake. A window closed in the living room. Gun trained on the door, Jason pulled up the security feed on his phone. The only reason he wasn’t out the door and shooting was because even his silent alarms weren’t going off. That pointed to this being an annoying sibling.

Sure enough, the camera showed Dick crossing the room. He stopped to blow a kiss at the hidden camera, the fucker, and then went to disable the alarms at the front door. Jason shoved the gun back under the bed frame and buried his face in his pillow. If his siblings were going to invade without warning, they could wait until he was actually ready to get up.

Jason got fifteen more minutes of sleep and a shower in before he was ready to brave his family.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Tim said with a pointed sip of his coffee.

He was sitting on the couch, Cass perched on the arm next to him. Dick had the other half of the couch, with an angry Damian tucked next to him, while Duke took the arm chair.

“If you wanted punctual, you should have texted,” Jason said. “There better still be coffee in the pot.”

This seemed like a coffee sort of day.

“There is, and we brought donuts,” Dick chirped. “I made sure the horde left a cake and a raspberry cream for you.”

“You are slightly forgiven for whatever the fuck is going on here,” Jason said. Of course someone had taken his favorite mug already. He settled for the one with the Shakespeare quote and added more than a splash of cream to the coffee before he went to face his siblings.

Tim motioned to the table.

The aforementioned box of donuts was there as well as a pile of tabloid papers. Jason raised his eyes at them. Huh.

“Well?” Tim asked.

“News moves fast?” Jason said with an unaffected shrug. At least seemingly unaffected. His heart was going a mile a minute it felt like. He hadn’t wanted them to know yet. He wanted more time.

But he was the one who had gone to pick Danny up. He had known that this could happen. Fuck, he should have thought about this more, he wasn’t ready. Jason picked up the top one. They were just a little side picture for that publication, but the one under it they were main page.

It wasn’t a half bad picture. Danny’s face was obscured, shot from the back as he leaned in to kiss Jason. Danny’s hands on the edge of his leather jacket were clear though, as was how nicely he fit in between Jason’s legs.

Maybe he’d keep that one.

Not that he’d tell Tim that, because, “You’re fucking creepy, Replacement. Why’d you buy all these?”

“I’m keeping track of the family! It’s what I do. Someone has to stay on top of it all.”

“Creepy,” Cass echoed, but soothed her word by pressing a kiss to the top of Tim’s head.

Tim pouted. “How long has this been going on?”

“Well see, I first realized that I liked boys when—”

“How long have you been dating Daniel Nightingale,” Tim interrupted, clearly having no mood for sarcasm today. “Or should I say Daniel Fenton.”

Huh.

“I’ve been dating Danny for about a month and a half now,” Jason said casually as he very purposefully picked a donut from the box.

“And you didn’t tell anyone?”

“I told Dick.” Jason motioned to his oldest sibling before taking a large bite of the donut. “He’s even met him twice.”

Tim sighed like he had the world on his shoulders. “I meant anyone who could actually hand PR, not make it worse.”

“I will take that as both an insult and a compliment,” Dick said. “And don’t talk with your mouth full, you’ll choke.”

Jason rolled his eyes. Like Dick didn’t all the time. He very purposefully swallowed. “We’ve only been on two real dates.”

“There are photos, Jason,” Tim said like that was a big deal.

Jason shrugged. “And that means you had to bring an entourage?”

“This is a family matter,” Tim said with a sniff. “…and they insisted.”

“I did not. I was just shoved in a car,” Duke said. He honest to god raised his hand to say that.

“Richard made me,” Damian grumbled (snootily, but it was still a grumble).

“Mhum,” Jason said and sipped his coffee. “I think we’re missing at least two family members and several side members.”

“Please, Alfred would just be trying to figure out the guy’s favorite food—”

“Anything that doesn’t try to bite back.”

Tim actually paused. “That’s concernedly specific.”

“That’s Danny for you.”

Dick covered a laugh. “Yeah, sorta is. That’s a weird fish you have, little wing.”

Various other siblings mouthed ‘fish’ in confusion. Cass just grinned. That was either a very good sign or a very bad sign.

“And Bruce? Why didn’t you just do this tomorrow at the manor?” Jason asked.

“Bruce needs time to be prepped,” Tim said with a wave of his hand, “Or he’d osculate between relentless questions and staring at you with big watery eyes of joy. It’s best if I give him a dossier first, ideally one that has an answer about this name change. The less he has to be concerned about the better.”

Jason exchanged a look with Dick. Well that certainly wasn’t happening in full. That coffee wasn’t sitting so well anymore. “I blame you, Dick, for the way Tim turned out. I was busy being dead and dubiously brainwashed.”

“Oh no, he came to us like this, I don’t take any of the blame,” Dick said.

Tim was pouting again. “I’m just trying to protect the family! Why is that so bad?”

“Caring creepy,” Cass said with a little nod.

“Yes! I mean no, I’m not being creepy! It’s publicly accessible information… mostly.”

“Tim,” Dick started, “have you been—”

A knock at the door cut the question off and everyone’s head turned to the noise. They were like a pack of meerkats, Jason thought, as he headed that way. Pack? Herd? Jason glanced at the video feed and lamented the timing of it all.

Which really was very Danny; the fish had the worst timing.

Jason opened the door with a sigh.

“Hey! Hold this, breakfast burritos,” Danny said, shoving a plastic bag Jason’s direction before he started working on untangling his scarf. “Picked them up from that little corner place you showed me a few weekends ago. Don’t worry, remembered the extra house hot sauce.”

The scarf seemed to have basically tied it self in a knot and Danny frowned down at at it. He shoved his coffee cup at Jason too as is words turned into an odd mix of absent minded and rushed. “But thought that would be nice. There was something I was going to… Oh! So I was reading this article, which is actually a little old, but it’s so cool! And about trilobites! Which you know, now I have to read it, right? So they actually had no idea how trilobites had sex cause, you know, ancient dead bugs, but then they found this pair that was killed and fossilized while mating. Which like, one, what a way to go, and two, what are the odds! And it turns out it’s not far off from horseshoe— ah-ha! Take that scarf!”

Danny pulled the length of red fabric off, looked up to the living room full of wide eyed siblings, and froze.

“Danny?”

“You have people over?” Danny squeaked.

“Against my will,” Jason said. “My siblings invaded.”

Dick waved.

“Siblings, right, I’m just going to…” Danny took a step to the left, effectively hiding himself behind Jason’s back.

Jason felt Danny’s head impact against him and had to hold back a laugh, but knew he had no hope of stopping the smile that spread across his face. Jason ignored whatever Tim’s soft little ‘huh’ was about. “You okay back there?”

“Am I okay— why didn’t you stop me?” Danny asked, his morose words muffled by Jason’s shirt. “I was just going on!”

“Mhum, about trilobite sex.”

Danny whacked Jason’s arm hard for that, and this time Jason couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“Adorable,” Cass cooed.

“Come on, this just means that they know that you’re a huge nerd already. It’s not like you were going to be able to hide that from anyone for long,” Jason said.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t. Come on, stop being a prickly puffer fish,” Jason said, shifting slightly to figure out the best way to reveal Danny. “You can’t hide behind me forever.”

“No I’m just going to sink through the floor out of embarrassment.”

Jason was afraid that Danny might actually go through with that so he gentled his tone. “Come on, fish, It’s fine. Tim is a complete nerd. And Damian, for all his bite, is an art nerd.”

Damian bared his teeth. “I will stab you.”

“There’s the bark,” Jason said, unconcerned. “Duke is a dork and you’ve met Dick. Cass is actually cool, but she already said you’re adorable so you might just have to put up with being hugged a lot from her. Besides, they’ve already seen you and they’re my family, there’s no getting out of this long term.”

It had gotten so quiet in the apartment Jason swore he could hear Danny’s heart thudding, or was that his core?

Eventually, Danny loosened his death grip on Jason’s shirt, took a deep breath, and stepped out to stand beside Jason.

“There you are,” Jason said and dropped a kiss to the crown of Danny’s head. “Everyone, Danny. Danny, that is Duke, Cass, Tim, Dick you know, and Damian. He really does bite so maybe don’t sit near him.”

Damian sniffed. “He is lying. I prefer bladed weapons and I was frisked before abducted to come here.”

“Um, hi? Please don’t attack me, I’m still being trained with a xiphos, I’m not going to be a challenge for you with a sword,” Danny said. He sat dutifully in the chair that Jason has brought over from the kitchen table and set near the other living room furniture.

“You’ve trained in the blade?” Damian asked, actually looking interested.

“Training,” Danny reiterated. He accepted his coffee back from Jason with a slightly strained smile and clung to it like a lifeline. “But yeah, I’ve had some lessons. Mostly it’s been a dory though, outside of hand to hand. My teacher prefers the spear. She, ah, likes the reach it gives her, not that she really needs any help in the reach department.”

“We should spar,” Damian decided with a little nod.

“No stabbing my boyfriend, demon brat,” Jason said as he pulled over a chair for himself. He broke off part of the cake donut and handed the rest to Danny who took it with a pleased noise.

“So, you prefer Danny?” Tim asked with an all too innocent expression. At Danny’s nod he added, “And is it Nightingale or Fenton?”

Danny stiffened. “Well, considering I legally changed my name the day I turned eighteen, I think it can be pretty clear I prefer Nightingale.”

“But Fenton…”

“Is my parent’s last name, yes. Look, I’ll be blunt,” Danny started. There was that resigned note to his words that Jason had come to hate. He slipped his hand into Danny’s, rubbing his thumb along the lines of the back of Danny’s hand. “My parents love my sister and I, I know that they do. But that love isn’t enough to see us past their work. They’re… obsessive, to be polite. We were always last. So once we decided to move on, it wasn’t too hard to actually do so. My sister changed her name when she turned eighteen and I did the same when it was my turn. I moved out as soon as it went through. I don’t hate them, I don’t feel strongly enough about them to hate them anymore.”

Tim winced at the words. The neglect clearly hit one of Tim’s own sore spots, but Jason couldn’t muster up any sympathy for him. It severed Tim right for starting this whole conversation.

“Was that… a fight?” Dick asked. He always put such a weight in names.

Danny just snorted, softly. “It took them three months to even notice I’d moved. So no, not really. I still don’t know if they’ve caught on to the name change. We don’t really talk.”

“How did you end up in Gotham?” Duke asked, eager to change the conversation.

“Oh. Well, I’d been doing gen-ed through an online community college. I was getting done with them so applied to some scholarships. I’m actually here on a Wayne Inventors’ Scholarship, which is, ah, a little awkward now,” Danny said with a little wave at all of them, “all things considered.”

“It took him a really long time to put together who I was,” Jason said. “I thought he knew, but nope.”

“Look,” Danny said defensively. “I actively try to avoid the lives of the rich and famous after my Godfather.”

Jason raised a brow and made a mimicking motion to the room. “Yeah, how’s that working out for you?”

“Badly. I’m clearly cursed.”

----- AN: And then Danny proceeded to be beat soundly in Mario Kart/Party. He did hold his own in Smash though.

I am very sleepy, but have some fish! Stay delightful, darlings.

#dp x dc #dead on main #dead on main ship #like betta fish do

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louuieferrignojr · 3 days ago

Text

baby it's cold outside

i saw this tweet and thought it fit bucktommy so this happened

--------

Evan was exhausted and he was trying to stay up and wait for Tommy to get home from his 48-hour shift. He stared at his phone, waiting for his husband’s text.

Nothing.

He sighed, before putting his now empty mug of what once was filled with hot chocolate in the dishwasher, before making sure to lock the doors. Tommy never forgot his keys, so he could easily let himself into the home. There had been a slew of break-ins recently and Evan didn’t want to take any chances. He had important ingredients in this house. Who knows what they could steal.

“I don’t think they are going to steal your baked alaska recipe Evan.” Tommy had said amused, giving him a fond look when they watched the news a week prior. Evan had pouted at him, about to start to bring up evidence of recipe stealing burglars when he felt lips on his. A little chapped, but he could taste the chocolate on Tommy’s lips. He pulled away, ignoring Tommy’s look of disappointment.

“Did you take a piece of the cake I was saving?” Tommy looked at him like a deer caught in headlights and was about to try and defend himself when Evan laughed and shook his head.

“You’re lucky I love you and your sweet tooth.”

Tommy kissed him again, before pulling back. “I love you and that chocolate cake.”

Evan was taken out of the memory and a smile grew on his face remembering the moment. God he missed Tommy.

He turned off the main lights, leaving just a small light on for Tommy when he came in before walking to the bedroom.

Quickly getting changed, he got under the covers and laid back, moving closer to Tommy’s side. His pillow smelled like him still. It would have to work for now.

Smiling to himself, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

–

A loud noise coming from his bedside table woke Evan from his sleep. He groaned, rubbing his eyes and looking at the time. It was 3:45 a.m. and Tommy’s space was still empty.

Frowning, he looked down at the phone that had just been vibrating.

Tommy.

Grabbing his phone quickly and almost dropping with how fast he tried to get it, he saw he had four missed calls.

He was about to call Tommy himself when his name flashed across the screen.

“Evan?”

“Tommy, where are you?”

“Are you comfy?”

“I had been…”

“I’m just stuck on the back porch. You don’t have to come get me though if you were comfy in bed.” The call dropped as Evan stared at the device in shock.

Getting out of bed, he threw on his clothes and ran down the stairs. He could see Tommy’s form in the window and let out a string of curses. His dumb self sacrificing husband.

He opened the door and found the older man leaning against the house.

“Hi.” Tommy greeted him, his teeth chattering.

“How long were you waiting out here?” Evan asked, as he pulled Tommy inside and brought him into the living room. There was an unusual cold front hitting LA and it was in the 30s right now in the middle of the night and Tommy was only in his light brown jacket. Did his husband have a death wish?

“Not…long.”

“How long? Babe, you’re freezing.” He grabbed a heavy blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around Tommy. He rubbed his arms up and down and did the same to his hands. He was freezing.

“Two hours. I didn’t want to wake you.” Tommy said as if it was totally normal to wait outside in freezing weather for hours.

“I am giving you permission to always wake me you dummy. Hold on.” He said, knowing his husband just wanted to be an octopus and wrap his long arms around him. Standing up he walked over to the fireplace they only just got put into the house and started it, watching as the fire lit.

“Evan.” Tommy had his hand out for him to grab and he turned and did just that, before sitting back down next to him.

He held Tommy’s face in his hands, trying not to think of what could have happened if he didn’t wake up. His husband was safe. He was getting warmed up and he could probably have a cold, but he was okay. Sighing, he caressed Tommy's face before he kissed him gently on the forehead, then gave a kiss to his very red nose, to finally kissing him on the lips. He pulled his husband’s form near him as the fire warmed them up and they watched the soft glow of the embers before they fell asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #evan buckley #tommy kinard #my fic

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cmdrfupa · 7 months ago

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Love you a waffle lot, you know?

Hiromi Higuruma x Reader

Sfw, established relationship w/ soft king Hiromi. fluff with smoochin (so sprinkled nsfw if you squint)

Foodies and Goodies entry and also me dusting off the typewriter after almost 10 years of not writing a fic. Thank you @tsukimefuku for the inspo!

The sensation of the cold, wet air and the faint sound of rain awaken your senses. A rainstorm provides respite from a week of stress, anxiety, and fatigue as it welcomes you to a new day. The overcast sky is causing very little light to filter into your bedroom. You awaken to the sensation of cold, satiny sheets beneath your hands, only to find yourself alone in the vast bed. With a smile and a hint of grogginess, you realized that not even a rainy Saturday would keep Hiromi in bed past 10 am unless you physically held him down.” That man can’t stay still.”

When you look out the window to see the rain splattering over the glass, the smell hits your nostrils just in time. The chill of the outside air was making it slightly uncomfortable to stay in bed. Well. Uncomfortable to stay in bed alone.

Shuffling down the hall to the low-lit, sage-colored, sunflower-accented kitchen as your husband comes into view. Wearing a fitted knit tank top and pajama pants from a set you bought him years ago, he leaned against the kitchen counter. Dark hair was damp, and wispy strands were sticking together at the nape of his neck. Eagle eyes watch the waffle maker as if it’ll walk off if he even thinks about looking away.

He notices your outline at the doorway and turns to you, holding out his hand for you to come to him.

“The waffle maker? You’re pulling out the heavy artillery. Need any help?”

With a slight shake of his head, the corners of his mouth turn upright.

“Was going to bring it to you. You didn’t have to get up, darling.” He spoke warmly. Fingers hooked with his, the smell of his aftershave commingling with the scent of the dripping coffee nearby.

“I was getting cold.” He brings you closer on impulse, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your back with a delicate touch. His embrace is familiar and inviting as he kisses your head. His steady breath encouraged a sense of cozy contentment.

“You looked quite comfortable. It would’ve been a crime to wake you. So I figured I’d make a simple breakfast we could enjoy in bed."

“You spoil me, Mr.Higuruma.”

“Oh, just you wait. I even have the berry syrup you love to have with them.”

Eyebrows raised now with just a hint of excitement. “What on earth am I going to do with you?” The ding of the waffle maker brings you two apart. He gives your forehead a soft peck before you reach the kitchen nook in the corner.

“Love me forever, of course.”

"And if you think that’s bad, she didn’t even update us. Just sent the files over to Nanami and left for her vacation.” His hand on your thigh, not keeping you from spilling your thoughts.

“Not even a concern about whether our workload was already maxing us out.” The golden brown waffles sat in front of you both, fragrant berry syrup dripping off the sides as you cut into the crispy cake, feeding another forkful to Hiromi, him happily receiving the food, chewing as you talked about the previous work day.

“I’m telling you, romi. The late nights because of her lack of care are becoming irksome. Either her boss gets her together, or I’m tying Mei Mei to a tractor-trailer by that stupid braid”. Hiromi observed you as you grabbed your coffee, the first sip taken with closed eyes. 4-second sip followed by a quick lick of your lip to catch the vanilla-flavored trickle. He always waited to make sure he had your coffee perfect before taking a sip of his own. Noticing his gaze, you move the mug from your lips.

“Honey, you okay?”

“Of course, darling.” He kissed your neck, then lips, the taste of the sweet syrup lingering. “Mei is being her usual half-ass self while you and Nanami work to improve her look.” Eyes now on you, he thumbs at your lips. “ You deserve the opportunity to tie her to that tractor-trailer.” The rich tone of his voice, followed by his lingering gaze, kept you from immediately replying. You instead smirk, sipping your coffee again.

“You know what I’m going to say, so I won’t say it.” That simpered smile you’ve loved from the beginning tugs at his cheeks, “But… whenever you decide to put the salary job down…”

“I know, Hiro..” the unyielding taps of rain on the glass filled the comfortable silence. Taking your fork and having a bite of the waffle, eyes closing for a moment. “Mmm”

His lips met yours in a soft kiss, his hands reaching to bring your legs to his lap.

“I don’t like seeing you stressed. Leave that type of nonsensical energy for me to work through.”

“And what do I do when you are overly stressed, my dear husband?” Reaching to glide the tip of your finger down his aquiline nose. A sigh of contentment huffed softly under your always tender touch.

The pitter-patter of the rain hitting the glass is soothing. droplets slide down the window in a slow, methodical movement, colliding with one another and forming larger droplets that glide down faster.

Your view through the rain-streaked window was now slightly obstructed, adding to the coziness of being inside. Hiromi forks another piece of waffle into his mouth, returning his attention to you and pushing the plate away.

“This. Simply be near me.” Dexterous fingers grip your thigh as his loving gaze approaches your face. “Be near me and maybe make the waffles next time. They don't taste like yours.”

“Nutmeg. And just a spill of heavy cream.”

“Nutmeg. You beautiful genius.”

The sound of the rain fills the air, the steady rhythm of the drops building a barrier around you, separating you from the world for the weekend. Whispers of affection and conversation as your forever coffee date share what he wants to do on your rainy weekend inside.

#higuruma hiromi #jjk hiromi #hiromi x you #jujutsu kaisen #hiromi fluff #lu.logs

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littlemessyjessi · 22 days ago

Text

"Babydolls and Bucky Bears": A Holiday MCU Imagine: Bucky Barnes

A MCU Holiday Imagine: Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader, PS Reader, Reader

Warnings: Bucky’s past? Reader has a minor injury. I mean, this is just referenced and nothing serious.

Use of Y/N because we all know that if I do a full backstory and name this character right now that none of us will ever see the end of this. At least not in this calendar year. But ya’ll know me and ya’ll should know that this has been added to the list of things to turn into stories with characters because I get attached to my writing. Moving on.

Fem Identifying reader because I love me some womenses. I just like writing about a woman especially if I’m already having a love interest with a man. Because bi panic and I’m selfish. I want both and the joy of me writing it means I can do that and give myself that little gift.

If you don’t vibe with that, that’s cool. Have a lovely day and see ya round. No worries here.

If you’re under 18, get out. Love you but get out. Tis not the place for you. Be kind to yourselves, drink water and have a great day. Love you, but leave.

……

Bucky narrowed his eyes at the black dog that greeted him calmly when he opened the door.

Not calmly in the way that Dumbledore calmly asked Harry if he’d put his name in the Goblet of Fire movie.

But calmly as in the way it happened in the book.

Because all that dog did was sit there, wag his tail and give him a doggy smile.

Bucky rolled his eyes but the corner of his mouth tugged up a bit.

He knew his girlfriend, Y/N, was the cause of this.

“Babe?” he called out.

“In here!” came her voice from the living room.

Odd that she didn’t absolutely maul him the moment he walked through the door like she usually did…. but he let it go.

Perhaps, she was prolonging the lecture that they both knew was coming.

She could run but she couldn’t hide.

“Babe, come on, we talked about the dog thing…” Bucky started as he began to pull off his coat and toe off his boots.

“He’s just visiting for a week, Buck. Bruno belongs to Anton.” she called back.

“Aside from the fact that you sang to me over and over and over again that we don’t talk about Bruno… who’s Anton?” he said.

“He’s in my book club. He and his wife, Delilah, are going out of town this week to visit the in-laws. Something about they have to go this time because her brother is bringing his new boyfriend and she’s gotta be there for moral support. Anyway, said in-laws are allergic to dogs. They offered for me to just stay there and house sit with Bruno but I know you and I know you’d come to collect me before the first night.” she said, ending with a knowing giggle.

“Uh, yeah. How am I supposed to sleep without my cuddle buddy?” he said, smiling as more of those giggles floated through the air like music to his ears. “Do you want some hot chocolate, doll?”

“Ooooh, yes please!” she all but squealed.

Bucky couldn’t help but smile as he turned towards her little hot cocoa cart.

She’d thrown an unholy fit when she discovered them on Pinterest.

Pinterest was Bucky’s greatest foe for it was Pinterest that inspired that woman to DIY and when her ADHD kicked in somehow he always came home to an explosion of glitter.

However, he would admit that the little bar cart turned hot cocoa cart was actually very useful.

He’d have been just as happy with a Swiss Miss cocoa packet but she got a thrill out of stocking it with all kinds of treats to make the most epic mug of chocolate to have ever existed….. and she did come up with some pretty good combinations.

“Marshmallows?” he called out.

She gasped and recognized that tone.

She was offended.

“Sorry.” he laughed. “My mistake.”

“The audacity.” he heard her mumble.

It was only a few moments more and Bucky had loaded up a tray with their cocoas along with the christmas tree cakes and gingerbread cookies that he knew she’d whine about if he brought it to her without it.

She’d get up and get it herself… but she’d definitely pout.

As cute as he thought she was when she was pouting… he wanted to streamline this whole process and get right to the cuddling.

It had been a day.

He just wanted to hold her for a while and watch whatever oversaturated Christmas movie she chose for the night.

Probably the Grinch…. for the millionth time.

He didn’t mind it though.

She always cried when the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes and he thought it was the cutest thing in the whole world.

However, the second he rounded the corner into the living room… he just stood completely frozen.

There, in their home was an enormous tree… made from metal.

Boxes of ornaments were on the floor and sat on the couch, in a nest of blankets, was the love of his life.

“Buck?”

He blinked, “Um?”

The sound of her taking in a huge breath should have prepared him for the onslaught of anxiety ridden explanations but he was honestly just paralyzed with shock at this massive silver tree.

“Ok, so I know we said we would just do a fake tree because the real one would leak sap everywhere but then I got stuck on TikTok seeing terrifying, horrible stories where those things caught on fire because the wiring is terrible and I didn’t want us to burn alive so for the past month I’ve been making this and scouring all the thrift stores in the tristate area for vintage tree ornaments and I know it’s not traditional but-” she all but exploded, speaking at rate which one could only describe as that of Gilmore Girl proportions.

“Sweetheart.”

“And I know I sprung the dog situation on you but I really didn’t know until a few hours ago but I didn’t have time to call you because I had to pick up the jukebox this morning. It’s cute, Buck. The tabletop ones from an old diner and it’s loaded with Christmas songs!”

“Babe.”

“And then I had a record on hold from a vintage shop and then the lights for the fireplace came in. The safe ones! Not the ones that will burn us alive in our sleep!”

“Doll.”

“So I had to run out and get the lights and then go get Bruno and get back home and get it all decorated for you because I wanted you to come home to a magically decorated home for the holidays but then I slipped and slid half way down the street in the ice and… here I am.” she said.

Bucky set the tray down on the table before kneeling in front of her.

“Ok, so first, take a breath. I don’t think you’ve breathed once since you started.” he teased, happy to have gotten a smile out of her. “Come on. Big breath and let it out.”

“Hey, those are my tricks.”

“Dollface, I don’t think you can claim breathing as one of your tricks. You might have to take that up with God.”

“You right. Sorry, Jesus.”

Bucky shook his head, “And I’m not mad. I don’t mind the dog thing anyway. I just worry about us having time to take care of one but if you want to hear the truth- since you started working from home more… Which thank you for that by the way. I know you can handle yourself but knowing you’re here sometimes takes the edge off a little.”

Her hand found the side of his face, thumb swiping across his cheek, “I know, Buck. I don’t mind it at all actually.”

They shared a smile, “I don’t hate the idea of you having a dog here with you either. I mean, I’d like to be included in the decision and I would really, really prefer it if they had some additional training. I’ve thought about adopting a retired police dog. I actually know of a few that need good homes.”

“James Buchanan Barnes, I love that idea and I love you for thinking of it. You might get lucky tonight if we can figure out a way to do this without me having to move my foot too much.” she said.

Bucky smirked but wasted no time in digging around in her blanket nest to find the wounded limb, “Well, I know of several positions that involve your legs over my shoulders so I think we can figure that part out, baby. But let me see. Did you hurt it badly?”

“Not too bad. I just sprained it, I think. And then of course it was icy and I slid. Oh, we have a trash can lid to return by the way.” she said and at Bucky’s arched brow, she pulled it from where it was leaning against the side table looking very much like Cap’s shield.

He sighed, “Do I wanna know?”

“Well, I couldn’t get up because of my ankle and because the ice was slippery too. Bruno is actually one smart puppy because he brought me that lid, nudged me on and then he literally pulled me home. Anton and Delilah put his harness on for him before we left so I just held the leash and he pulled me home. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him. Oh, I want to make brownies for Miss Helen’s grandsons across the street. They’re the ones that helped me inside and brought all the stuff up. When I fell, I dropped everything, which included my phone. Couldn’t have even called you. Bruno was a very good boy.” she said, aiming a fond smile at the black lab sitting in the doorway.

Bucky patted the floor next to him and held out his hand to the dog who all but ran to slide his head underneath it for pets.

“Thanks, Bruno.” Bucky said, scratching behind the dog’s ears. “I will cook you a steak for this tonight.”

“Well deserved!” Y/N cheered and Bruno happily wagged hs tail.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” he asked.

She sighed but nodded, “Yeah, I just hate that the house is a mess. I might need to house sit for Anton and Delilah anyway though.”

At his furrowed brows she explained, “They fancy over there, babe. Bruno’s doggy door literally has a remote. As does his feed and water bowls. He’s upscale, Buck. I can do all that from their couch with the remotes.”

He nodded before giving her a small smile, “Or I could be completely out of action for the next two weeks and live out this little holiday fantasy of yours.”

“I would personally love nothing more than to have a very cute man servant for the next two weeks.” she said with an impish little smile, “However, Sam might need you.”

“Sam is gonna be fine.” Bucky laughed. “It would be a blessing to him for me to be out of what little hair he has.”

“Bucky, that’s not true.” she laughed.

“He’s training like three newbies.” Bucky said.

“Oh.” Y/N said and then gave a nod, “Yeah, probably for the best. Ya’ll would kill each other.”

“Exactly.” he said. “I’ll let him know later that he can finally have some peace of mind training them the way he’d like to and I will spend the next two weeks doing whatever Hallmark Holiday Bucket List that I know you have hidden away somewhere.”

“Well, ice skating is definitely crossed off that list.” she said.

“Baby, seems to me that you’ve already done your ice skating this year.” he said, gesturing to her swollen ankle. “If sledding with snow dogs was on there, mark that as completed as well.”

“Will do.” she giggled.

“So there is a list!”

“Of course there’s a list, James! How the heck do you expect me to get anything done without a list?”

The two of them fell into laughter.

Bucky ordered in, Door Dashing enough food to feed an army.

He claimed it was because fast food would make her foot feel better.

In reality, his babygirl was hurt and honestly he just wanted to give her all her favorites.

He also ordered a steak for Bruno, the best boy, and decided to text that friend of his.

A dog definitely seemed like a good idea now.

The dog might not be ready to go by Christmas… but he could definitely make her holiday by taking her to see them.

‘Hey, it’s Bucky. You know how we talked about the dogs the other day? I’m on board and I got time to come by over the next couple of weeks. Lemme know a good time.’ he texted only to receive a reply almost instantly.

‘Great timing. Come by anytime and we’ll go from there.’

Bucky looked over the scene in his home

An explosion of holiday cheer and right in the middle of it was his sweet girl sipping her hot cocoa watching Disney Channel holiday episodes and scratching the dog’s head.

This was about as close to heaven as he had gotten in a long time.

He looked up to the ceiling for a second before giving a little nod and he said a prayer to God or the Universe or however the creator wanted to be addressed these days, “Thank you. This is better than I ever thought I get and far more than I ever thought I deserved. Thank you.”

“Hey, Buck, come watch! Raven just had a vision that she’s getting a necklace for Christmas!”

He smiled and settled into the couch beside her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“You ok, babe?” she asked.

“I’m great, babe. This is nice.” he said.

“I’m sorry about the mess. I’ll get it cleaned up when I can stand.” She apologized.

“You’re not standing for several days and you can take that any way you want.” he said with a smirk before adding seriously, “And I’ll get all this cleaned up and take care of the dog.”

“But-”

“No.” he said. “I don’t usually get to be involved in the decorating process anyway. I’m gone more than I’d like and don’t get me wrong- I love coming home to it, baby. It’s so nice to come home and see all the time and effort you put into our home. But it’ll be nice to be a part of it. Take this opportunity to boss me around, babe. It doesn’t happen often.”

“Oh, I can think of plenty of times I boss you, James.” she said, keeping her gaze on the television.

She always looked so sweet but Bucky knew the feisty little firecracker that resided behind all that holiday cheer.

He chose to save his response for later… when Bruno was in his bed and they were in theirs.

“But I’ll take care of Bruno.” she continued. “I agreed. Not you. It’s my responsibility.”

“We’ll call it even for him rescuing the love of my life.” Bucky said. “Besides, consider it a trial run on the dog idea.”

“Yeah, but.”

“Baby, I’m not taking no for an answer here.” he said before furrowing his brows. “Despite how creepy that just sounded. Does anyone listen when they say things like that? That sounded very-”

“Assaulty? Stalkery?” she supplied.

“Yeah.” he said. “Babe, that’s not how-”

“Oh, can it, Barnes.” she laughed. “I know you would never. You’ve literally changed my shirt for me when I was too drunk to function and puked on myself. Yet, you kept your eyes closed and still asked for consent over and over. Despite the fact that you have seen me naked plenty of times before.”

“Well, babe, I just-”

“I know and I love you for it.”

“You shouldn’t love me for basic human kindness.”

“I don’t.” she said. “I love you because you acknowledge that basic human kindness is something that is sometimes very lacking in the world. I know that you understand that better than most on levels that most couldn’t even come close to in their deepest, darkest nightmares. I love YOU, Bucky. And I know that who you are is so true because despite all of the horrible things that have happened in your life… that little light? That little light still shines and that’s you. That’s my Bucky Bear.”

“I love you, Babydoll. Merry Christmas.”

“I love you, Bucky Bear. Merry Christmas.”

And the house was warm and full of contentment with the lovers cuddled close, ornaments twinkling in the firelight and a hound peacefully laying at their feet.

A Merry Christmas it was.

…….

Hello, loves! I hope you enjoy this holiday content!

Hope ya’ll are having a great day!

Love you.

—

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K, Love you, Bye!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #plus size reader #ps reader #bucky barnes x ps reader #mcu #marvel imagine #holiday imagine #winter imagine #christmas imagine #james buchanan barnes

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moonstrider9904 · 27 days ago

Text

Isn't it just so pretty to think...?

Chapter 2 of Le Coeur

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Next chapter (coming soon!) | Previous chapter

Chapter summary: Thoughts of the striking Vastayan enforcer keep Nea distracted during another day of work.

Tags/warnings: Steb x Original Female Character, other OCs are in the fic as well. Canon divergence, flirting, pining, crushes, teasing, fluff.

Word count: 4.9k

Music: dorothea, invisible string, since you came around

Of all the coffee brewing techniques known to her—and that was, by definition, all of them—the one known as Moka Pot brewing was the most challenging to Nea. It had taken her over a year to brew a single pot where the ground coffee hadn't been burned or the liquid coffee hadn't sputtered or splashed, or even a pot that had yielded the full portion of water she used. But after a lot of practice, Nea had reached a point where nearly all her Moka brews were of the highest quality and the flavor was smoothly robust, and she had come to realize that the key to a Moka coffee of this profile was simply patience. Yet another metaphor coffee brought to her life was the value of taking things slow, enjoying the process of brewing the cup as much as the cup itself; it was not about the caffeine or the rush, but the opportunity to take a step away from the rush to enjoy the little things that often mattered more.

In her apartment, taking things slow and enjoying a cup of coffee almost seemed easy. The walls themselves would invite anyone to do so. It's been established before that the Coffeewick's second story held two little apartments. Nea's apartment was on the west wing while Blu's was on the right, and both apartments consisted of a living room, a small kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom with a little closet. While it would seem to any Piltovan who belonged to a large, prestigious house that such apartments desperately lacked in space, Nea and Blu had turned the little apartments into the very definition of home. Light cream colored walls and warm lighting, potted plants on the balconies, cozy couches and armchairs covered in knitted blankets and patchwork quilts with lamps beside them for reading and knitting.

The decor, while very similar for both apartments, reflected Nea and Blu's roles and how they naturally complimented one another. Nea's kitchen, to no one's surprise, was best optimized for brewing coffee, with two different machines, two types of presses, and a collection of mugs in one of the upper dark oak cabinets. Aside from the coffee, Nea had a decently sized stove top for cooking, another one of her passions. Meanwhile, Blu's apartment had a smaller stovetop, a large chopping table fit for a Yordle, and a wonderful oven where she could bake up to three cakes at a time. Blu also happened to own different kettles for boiling water and a whole assortment of jars containing teas and dry fruit infusions for the days and nights that simply called for a nice cup of tea. Due to her size, all the furniture in Blu's apartment stood shorter, and when comparing both apartments, Blu's contained more shades of lavender and wine tones while Nea's apartment had earthy greens, browns, and grays.

That night at her apartment, with gentle acoustic music playing on a little speaker, Nea stood in front of the stovetop watching her Moka Pot work its magic. On typical days like that one had appeared to be, she would replay all the memories and moments in her mind as the coffee brewed. And yet, it dawned on her that as typical as that day was, it held a great outlier, and the image of aquamarine eyes softening as they made contact with hers was the only one that repeated itself out of all the other moments as though it was the only one that had to matter. The details of the enforcer's physique remained vivid, and she could hear the couple of phrases he'd spoken to her so clearly that it made her chest swell and squeeze, longing to hear that deep voice again. With all those thoughts and memories swirling, Nea counted on the Moka Pot in front of her to keep her tied to reality—a brewing method that required precision was the perfect tool for that.

When the image of the oceanic eyes next came to her mind, the dark coffee had just begun to emerge from the pot's small column. Swiftly, Nea adjusted the flame under the pot and lowered the lid, and the sound of his voice blended with that of the bubbling and steaming coffee inside. The two sounds harmoniously danced together until the pot ran out of steam and the apartment once again fell into silence, dragging Nea into the quiet present moment. She then turned the stove off and pulled her favorite mug close, pouring the rich and dark coffee into it and inhaling its aroma with a deep breath. She brought the cup close to her lips, blew softly to prevent burning her tongue, and took a little sip, smiling instantly upon tasting the coffee. Rich, robust, yet smooth. Flawless.

After enjoying a couple of sips, Nea heard a light knock briefly coming at her door. It could only be one person, so Nea didn't budge from her spot in the kitchen. As she'd predicted, Blu eventually opened the door and let herself into the apartment having used the custom doorknob fit to her height, an attaché her own apartment door had as well, and as she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath and exhaled with a dreamy sigh.

"That smells great," Blu said with a little smile.

"Want some?" Nea asked. "It just finished brewing and there's enough for about half a cup more."

"Sure," Blu said as she walked herself over to the round kitchen table and climbed onto a chair, revealing a pile of about ten sheets of paper scribbled by her and setting them on the table. "I just finished working on the menu for next month, wanna see?"

"You know I do," Nea said, pouring Blu's cup. "The usual?"

"No cream, just sugar," Blu confirmed and arranged the sheets of paper in front of her. "Okay so, the poro cookies were a raging success today, so I'm gonna be baking more of those. I devised two plans, one considering daily poro cookies and another one three days a week. My heart wants to bake them daily but I also don't want anyone getting bored of them."

"Have you considered adding different glazes or toppings, or flavors to keep it varied?" Blu asked as she set Blu's cup in front of her and took a seat across the table.

"You're skipping ahead," Blu answered. "I'm trying not to go down the flavors and glazes rabbit hole or I'll spend the whole night there."

"Been there," Nea snickered.

"But I pretty much decided not to make the poro cookies daily," Blu continued, her eyes fixed on the notes she'd made. "I want all the emotions I can get from those googies and I have over a century of experience knowing that doing something over and over produces less emotions over time."

"The Yordle Emotion Conundrum," Nea added.

Blu rolled her eyes. "Literally no one calls it that, Nea, now focus!"

Nea giggled. "Sorry, please continue, oh Yordle pastry expert."

"That's more like it," Blu grinned. "So, poro cookies three days a week. One day a week, I want to make, and I know the name freaks you out, but-"

"Do we have to call them 'perilous' pies?" Nea knew where Blu wanted to steer the conversation.

"Yes, we do," Blu answered. "And they're not just perilous pies, they're almost perilous pies. Big difference."

"Almost doesn't mean a big difference," Nea objected.

"But it does mean that something nearly is, but isn't," Blu countered. "As in, this pie could be perilous, but it's not. People like that sort of thrill to what they buy."

"We're talking about coffee and pastries," Nea said.

"Oh, so you can sell triple shot espressos to caffeine junkies, but I can't bake fruity pies with perilous in the name?" Blu raised a brow.

Nea paused for a moment, thinking of a response. "Actually, yeah, that'd be the same thing."

"No it wouldn't be, because my pies, as nearly-perilous as they may be, won't send a person out into Piltover with high vibrations," Blu replied. "Your coffee, on the other hand, is actually dangerous sometimes."

Nea gasped with fake indignation, bringing a hand dramatically to her chest. "I will not have you speak those words in front of my Moka Pot."

For a second, the two of them looked at each other intensely, until they could no longer pretend and erupted into giggles. When the laughter died down, Nea gave an approving nod and met Blu's eyes.

"Alright, you've convinced me," Nea said. "The almost perilous pie can now be part of the Coffeewick pastry menu."

Blu clapped her hands together and rubbed them in anticipation. "Yay. Okay, so with that done, the rest is fairly the same. Berry and chocolate muffins on the daily, chocolatines, and gluten-free scones."

"Excellent," Nea nodded. "You've done it again."

"Always do," Blu said as she downed her cup of coffee in one gulp and hugged herself after setting it on the table.. "Mmh, now I'm all warm inside. I'm going to your couch."

"Help yourself," Nea said, getting up at the same time Blu did. "I'm just gonna clear this up."

Blu walked herself over to the comfy couch at the center of the living room and climbed on, pulling a little blanket over herself. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, I was hoping to read for a while or maybe even knit," Nea said as she rinsed out the empty cups and placed the used ground coffee in a jar, saving it to reuse as plant food later on. After that, washing the few dishes that were left didn't take her very long, and when she made it to the couch, Blu looked like a little teddy bundled up in a blanket as if a child had made that scene before leaving their house for school. Blu's eyes were barely open, and she lifted herself up enough for Nea to be able to sit down on the opposite side, resting her weight on the armrest. Wordlessly, Blu curled up at Nea's side and brought the blanket with her, and Nea reached for the book on the end table, turned on the lamp, and got to reading.

Lost in her book, Nea lost track of time and reality, and what brought her back was the sound of Blu snoring softly at her side. With a little smile, Nea realized it was probably very late, and with careful movements, she got up and went to turn off all the lights. She then gently picked Blu up, trying not to wake her, and took Blu over to the room. Nea set the Yordle down on the bed near the foot of the mattress and replaced the blanket over her, and she could almost giggle at how deeply asleep Blu was, unbothered by the movement or any shifting noises.

Nea prepared herself for bed as well, dimming the lights, removing her chunky sweater and changing into her nightwear, and she finally climbed under the covers. Before turning off the lamp on her bedside table, Nea took a small look around her bedroom. It was small, but she couldn't think of anywhere cozier, or a single place she loved more than that one, and with a little smile, she finally turned the lamp off and curled up in her bed. In those last few moments of consciousness before sliding into slumber, different thoughts drifted through Nea's mind, eventually finding their way back to the pair of aquamarine eyes. With her own eyes closed, she smiled softly, finding it pretty to think about the next day being as lovely as that one had been.

Of course, when the sunrise finally came and she found herself working the Coffeewick with Blu, focus eluded Nea. Orders came in, drinks were brewed, pastries were heated and enjoyed, but Nea's normally unwavering concentration was replaced by her gaze constantly drifting past the windows of the Coffeewick in search of the aquamarine eyes. Failing to find them with each glance, Nea had no choice but to return to the queue of orders from her loyal customers, but in the corners of her mind, she was ready to set aside time to make a latte to go and deliver it outside just as soon as she spotted him.

To her dismay, the hours wore on, and the ocean eyes were nowhere to be found. Her heart did leaps when she finally noticed a blue enforcer uniform in the distance, but her heart settled in place and maybe even slowed down when she noticed it was a different enforcer from the one she wished to see. Perhaps they rotated posts, or perhaps her longing would be answered by the sight of the handsome Vastaya arriving afterwards, being just a little late. The possibilities were endless, but that could easily become a burden.

The spiraling thoughts threatened to become a permanent distraction, and she had to make all of her movements that much more deliberate. Now I steam the milk, now I pour it into the espresso. Twist the wrist like that, make the round shape. Deliver the drink. Narrating in her mind seemed to help, but whether or not she could keep that up the whole day was still a question. She tried so hard to keep that focus that her surroundings began to blur, and it took her longer to notice a customer lingering at the end of the counter silently watching her movements.

When Nea looked up and made brief eye contact with him, she directed a little smile—she wouldn't mistreat a customer regardless of how many what ifs were bouncing around inside her—at the middle aged man in opulent clothing. He wore a black suit the same shade as his hair, and the edges of the fabric had an intricate pattern embroidered in silver thread that matched the buttons of the blazer as well as the poofy tie around his collar. The white shirt he wore contrasted with the black suit, and on the blazer's chest, Nea noticed an elegantly designed A on the breast pocket woven in that same silver thread and resting on a dark golden hexagon.

"Huh," Nea said quietly and met the man's hazel eyes. "House Ascroft, right?"

The man perked up slightly at the mention, giving her a slight smile. "Why yes, that's right. Well, I'm glad we're making more of a name for ourselves around Piltover."

"I've seen your emblem a couple times in the newspapers in the past month," Nea continued brewing—she welcomed the conversation, as she always did while brewing, and it certainly helped control the urge to look outside the windows yet again.

"I presume it would be in the progress and technology sections, yes?" The man spoke, and even his accent marked him as an erudite.

"Yeah, it was," Nea said. "I read about the conference you just gave on upcoming vehicle technology at the Academy. I graduated from the Academy myself, you know."

"I've heard of you," he said. "You are this place's owner, correct?"

"In the flesh alongside the Yordle over there," Nea replied.

"Why of course, your story still comes up around the halls of the Academy," the man complimented. "Designer of your own master machine to produce coffee in at least four different methods."

"Five," Nea corrected with a bright little smile.

"Professor Heimerdinger talks of the first designs you pitched to him," Mr. Ascroft continued.

"Oh, those were very rough drafts," Nea said with a smile. "Aw, Heimerdinger... I should give him a call."

"He spoke greatly of those drafts, rough as they were," said Mr. Ascroft. "He knows potential when he sees it, and from the looks of it, that potential bore fruit. You picked an astounding place for a coffee shop. For anything, really."

"Thanks," Nea said as she set her current beverage down on the counter and finished the next. "I had my eye on this building long before we turned it into the Coffeewick."

"I can see why," Mr. Ascroft looked around it with undeniable covet. "Do you struggle to keep the place?"

"Not at all," Nea said. "Business is great and we have a solid lease, so we're here for the long run."

"It's not entirely yours," Mr. Ascroft assumed.

"Not yet," Nea replied. "But that's the next step."

"How far is it?"

"Now, now, the Coffeewick needs to keep some things a secret," Nea chuckled, finishing up the next drink in a disposable cup. "Dark roast cappuccino?"

"That would be mine," Mr. Ascroft said. "I expect it to be a distinguished cup of coffee."

"I sure hope it is," Nea handed it to him. "Enjoy."

"Thank you, and," Mr. Ascroft took the cup and looked around the Coffeewick once more, "take good care of this place. It's truly great."

Nea nodded in acknowledgement. "Always do."

Mr. Ascroft bowed slightly and raised his cup of coffee in a chivalrous gesture before seeing himself out of the Coffeewick, and so, Nea returned to her usual routine. Before doing so, she watched Mr. Ascroft walking past the door and making his way down the street, walking just past the enforcer, who was still not who she wanted to see, and still the only one in sight. Nea could almost feel the chemicals in her brain dimming down, and she figured it may have been time to come to the realization that he simply wouldn't be there that day. She gave a sad smile to herself, and she then returned to business as usual.

The rest of the day wore on. Intern cashiers changed shifts and left, Blu eventually brought in the last tray of pastries that would be produced, the after-work crowd came and left, and as the sun began to set, business also began to die down. With less than an hour before closing time, there was a lull in the day when Nea had no new orders to brew, and she leaned over the counter facing out at the window on a whim, with her gaze drifting from point to point, never settling down on anything in particular. Her mind drifted into far away worlds, and she hardly heard the quiet pit-patter of paws approaching her, much less did she see the little blue hand floating up past the counter, folded and moving in an open-close that imitated a moving mouth.

"Oh... where, oh where could my Prince Enforcer Charming be?"

The high pitched voice ripped Nea from her thoughts, but she couldn't help but laugh at yet another one of Blu's antics, one that was clearly aimed at cheering her up no matter how Blu would disguise it as pure mockery. Blu lowered her hand and, without looking at the Yordle, Nea heard Blu pushing the stool towards her other side and climbing back on it to raise her hand again, this time making her voice deeper.

"I think I'm so subtle but I've actually been sighing all the yanky-doodling day! I'm sure nobody, not even my trusted and super talented Yordle partner knows what's happening, but the truth is I miss him oh, so much!"

Nea chuckled silently through closed lips and looked down at Blu. "Having fun?"

"You looked out that window 47 times today and sighed 31," Blu replied.

"How did you count my glances and sighs when you were in the kitchen?" Nea raised a brow.

"Donnie did and reported back to me," Blu giggled and walked off towards the kitchen again. "You are smitten, my friend. Smi-tten."

"What? Nonsense!" Nea followed after Blu and stopped just in front of the cash register as the Yordle faded into the kitchen. "Don't you disappear ominously on me!"

Having Blu bring up Nea's feelings so shamelessly brought a rush of heat over to her cheeks, and she was so focused on her own blushing and the lack of response from Blu that she didn't even hear the Coffeewick door opening. Instead, Nea's hands rested on her hips, and her eyebrows furrowed together as she kept glaring at the kitchen door. Blu had heard the door, and she popped out from the kitchen looking at Nea. The Yordle then laughed in a manner that was only slightly evil.

"What's so funny?" Nea asked, still frowning.

"You have a customer, you absolute cream puff," Blu glanced past Nea's shoulder.

Nea turned around in a swift movement, her eyes now wide in embarrassment, and when she faced the customer in question she froze, and the world around her disappeared and only left her to see a pair of beautiful, aquamarine eyes. Her parted lips curved into a soft smile, and her chest heaved subtly with the little pants she gave, and when he smiled softly in return, Nea genuinely feared her knees would stop holding her up.

"Hi," Nea said, her voice light and airy.

He wasn't in uniform, and the clothes he wore looked quite comfortable and perfect for the ever-cooling air approaching with the Piltovan twilight. He wore dark trousers secured around his slim waist with a belt and a light brown button up shirt with the first button undone, and a dark green double-breasted coat open down the middle whose hue made the tone of his skin stand out. Now that he'd lost the helmet of his uniform, Nea was able to observe his thin eyebrows and the stripes that stemmed up from them, framing the sides of his forehead, until they disappeared under a head of teal hair neatly combed backwards and faded at the sides. He, in turn, also managed to take in the details of Nea's outfit from her white, loose turtleneck sweater with the sleeves rolled up below her elbows to the black apron she wore and all the little stains it had, finding them endearing. After observing her in a brief second, he subtly smiled back at her.

"Hi," he replied.

"I, um..." Nea stuttered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Can I- what can I get you? Uh—welcome to the Coffeewick."

Nea could only imagine all the things Blu would say to make fun of her after such a scene. The bright red tone on her cheeks wasn't aided either by the graceful smile and aura with which he stood, and Nea noticed his ocean eyes drifting toward the side for a moment before he looked right at her again.

"Yesterday, I had a coffee from here," he said with that beautiful, thick accent of his. "I would like one just like it. Please."

"Oh, you're in luck," Nea played along. "I was actually waiting all day to make one just like that."

"Ah, interesting," he said.

"I was planning to make it free of charge as a token of appreciation, actually," Nea raised a brow.

"Whoever would receive it must be very lucky," he replied. "But he would have insisted on paying for it."

Nea giggled. "Well, that just means he has a solid moral code. I won't object to that."

He gave a soft chuckle.

"Will you have it to go, or will you drink it here?" She asked, hoping he would answer the latter.

"Uh, to go," he answered. "Please."

Nea tried to hide her disappointment as she reached for a disposable paper cup. "And... to what name will I put your order?"

His gaze softened and he bashfully met eyes with her again, and if Nea was correct, she picked up a faint hue of purple appearing across the bridge of his nose.

"Steb," he pronounced.

Nea took the little marker and wrote his name—she was proud of herself for finally knowing it even if it was part of her job—on the cup with her delicate handwriting, setting it all aside. "Will you have anything else? Can I interest you in a pastry?"

"Not now, but thank you," Steb replied.

"Alright, coming right up," Nea said.

"How much?" He asked before Nea could retreat into the counter to brew.

Nea stopped herself and stumbled back to the cash register. "Right. Um..." She felt her blush intensify at the idea of charging him. "Two silver cogs."

She completed the transaction and, directing one last tiny smile at him, Nea finally went and brewed the drink she'd been hoping for the entire day. Meanwhile, Steb waited quietly in front of the cash register, at times sneaking glances at the pretty barista as she worked in her domain, watching her hair bounce with her movements, and then he'd look away, not wanting to risk being presumptuous or worse, making her uncomfortable.

"She grossly undercharged you."

Steb couldn't control his little startled jump when he heard the little, high-pitched voice coming from below. Looking down in its direction, he noticed a short Yordle with blue fur, brown hair, and a cozy sweater looking up at him, her expression unsettlingly blank. However, her words rang with him, and he couldn't help but smile softly.

"I suspected as much," he answered.

Blu pointed up at the jar next to the cash register. "There's a tip jar."

Steb nodded slowly. "I will use it."

The Yordle seemed to nod, but said nothing more. She walked backwards, moving away from him, her big brown eyes unblinking as they remained fixed on him. She disappeared behind the counter and, for a moment, it was as if she'd never manifested in the first place. While Steb was puzzled, a small laugh inevitably vibrated in his chest.

From the other end of the counter, Nea had just finished up the latte. To her surprise, her shaking hands hadn't caused any disasters while brewing, but the next challenge appeared when she realized his back was turned on her—she noticed the fin running down his nape and disappearing under his clothes—and she would have to call his attention to her. With another trembling breath, Nea prepared herself to enounce.

"Steb?"

The sole syllable of his name spoken in her voice rang through his ears, which flickered in her direction just before he turned around. When he laid eyes on her, he smiled gently at the way she offered the cup to him, with a napkin and pack of sugar placed exactly the way they were the day before, and the way her eyes sparkled at him made his smile widen.

"Thank you," he said as he took the cup from her hands.

"Thank you too," she blushed. "Um... will you be visiting us again?"

"Yes," he said. "Not sure when, but... yes."

Nea's smile widened. "Well, I'll be waiting."

Steb chuckled softly. "I have a question."

"Yes?" Nea's eyebrows perked up at the endless amount of possibilities of things he could ask her, from her name to a date to her hand in marriage—she was just a girl who could fantasize.

"There is a Yordle here, right? You've seen her?" He asked, his expression clouded with concern, but no less amused.

Nea laughed richly and musically. "Yes, you're not imagining things. That's my business partner, Blu. She's... she's a delight."

"Well, then I'm not insane," Steb nodded.

"Heavens, no," Nea giggled.

"And now that I know your partner's name," Steb began, "may I know yours?"

With her heart doing leaps inside her chest, all Nea could do was tuck a strand of hair behind her ear again and grin until her cheeks ached.

"Nea," she answered.

Steb's gaze softened at her name. "Thanks."

The two lingered on one another's gazes until he gave a final nod.

"See you," he said as he began making his way to the door, putting in a tiny handful of silver cogs in the tip jar.

"Bye," Nea replied, unable to hide the sigh in her voice. Steb then opened the door of the Coffeewick and closed it behind him, and he looked in through the window one more time and smiled subtly before continuing his way down the sidewalk and disappearing from Nea's view.

She stood in silence leaning over the counter, finding herself once again pining for his arrival. And now, she knew what his name was, and she had reason to believe she'd see him again. She smiled at herself, figuring overall it was a good result. She was so dazed by the recent encounter that she didn't hear Blu approaching her, and she too was startled by the little Yordle when the latter tapped on her knee with her paw.

"Blu," Nea sighed.

Blu was smirking at Nea and wiggling her eyebrows.

"Oh, shut up," Nea rolled her eyes and looked away from Blu.

"Nea's got a crush," Blu sang.

"Blu!"

The Yordle laughed. "Wow, you're adorable."

"Oh, hush," Nea dismissed.

Blu clasped her paws together and held them dramatically over her forehead, swaying from side to side. "Oh, Handsome Prince Enforcer Charming Steb, please come in and get another coffee and sweep me away!"

"That's it, go to your room," Nea couldn’t help but laugh, her cheeks bright and redder than ever.

Blu walked off, triumphant in her banter and making kissing noises until she disappeared into the kitchen.

When Nea was finally alone and no other customers seemed to be approaching the Coffeewick, she figured she'd spend her last half an hour on duty brewing a nice cup of coffee for herself. A rush of emotions as beautiful as the one she was having was worthy of celebration, and she figured there was no better way to settle in for another night. That night, much like the last one, she'd find herself pondering on how pretty it would be for the next day to be like that one.

Thanks so much for reading! Please reblog to help me get out there!

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