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reignpage · 8 hours ago

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His Loss, Their Gain

Synopsis: in which you get stood up and the jjk men are more than ready to step up for you (pre-relationship) Warnings: a little cursing, vaguely sexual language or allusions, a little angsty, but mostly fluff, crack and comfort, one-sided pining perchance, not proofread Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna Word Count: 3.6k

Gojo

He heard all about your date from Shoko when he took a student to her dark, miserable corner to get all fixed up that morning. To say he was peeved was a massive understatement. In fact, the man had been muttering ‘ooh y/n’s got a date with some non-sorcerer ooh good for her’ under his breath pretty much the entire day.

The students are both amused and irritated by his constant yammering.

“I go on loads of date!” He grumbled, flicking a leaf as he leans against a tree, watching the kids spar. “What’s the big deal?”

At lunch, he strolled into the teacher’s lounge and whistled some tune. As always, you were sat by the window enjoying a bento box that made his mouth water — man, what would it be like to enjoy a meal made by you.

Casually, he mused, “I heard through the grapevine, you’ve got a hot date tonight.”

You threw him an unimpressed glower.

“Who the hell told you about that?”

Satoru shrugged. “Oh, y’know, just the grapevine. So, what’s he like?”

Nonchalant as he may have seemed, he had enough self-awareness to know that he was pretty bothered by how spruced up you’ve gotten for this guy, whoever he is. God, did you have to make your hair all pretty like that? And oh hell, is that a new perfume?

You didn’t entertain his game, choosing to ignore his thinly veiled attempt to pry, and chose simply to poke his side, tickling him away from the path to the exit he was blocking. The white-haired man rolled his eyes, desperate to quell the smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

That one interaction, that fleeting touch he never blocked out and that momentary glimpse at your shy smile, smothered the complaints that had been festering inside since he visited Shoko. You looked anxious, embarrassed, but more than anything, excited. Happy.

He was quiet the rest of the day.

The students didn’t know what to make of his sudden shift in mood; he was contemplative, focused and serious. None of them complained, after all they were finally learning a thing or two but it was an odd sight, him without a smile on his face.

When the sun was lowering, and the students had all headed home, Satoru leisurely exited the school feeling, for reasons he wasn’t ready to acknowledge, more tired than usual. But then he saw you, standing at the gates staring at your phone. Checking his own, he frowned.

You were supposed to be long gone by now.

When he appeared right beside you, you weren’t the least bit taken aback by his sudden voice.

“Ugly loser not coming?”

Muttering, you weakly replied, “You’ve never met him. How can you possibly know he’s ugly?”

Satoru threw back a retort that you didn’t respond to. He sighed. With his hands tucked into this pockets, he nudged you. “Alright, stop pouting, let’s go get dinner. I’m starving. God, being a teacher really takes its toll on the body.”

“You barely do anything.”

Despite yourself, you smiled.

So did he.

“Yeah, well, I’m still hungry anyways. So, let’s get going. Your treat.”

And despite his incredibly annoying, pretentious tone, you found yourself walking away from the school, the dwindling warmth of the sun setting behind you, with Satoru. He tried to hide his self-satisfied grin and the slight pep in his steps, and especially the peak under his blindfold at the two shadows you cast.

For as long as other men sucked, he knew he still had a chance.

Geto

“Got plans?”

You gave him a side glance, pulling your panties back up your legs. That arrangement of yours was complicated, to say the least. An on and off thing, neither of you could really keep your hands off each other, and all while staying as friends. Of course, the being friends part was easy — he’s fun and you’re sweet. But the staying as friends, and just as friends, was oh so difficult.

Clearing your throat, you took the bra he was dangling from his finger with a brow raised. And you said, “Yeah. Kinda. Some guy asked me out so we’re gonna get some dinner or something.”

“Sounds exhilarating,” he mused.

He was always like that — judgemental, mocking, and irresistible. Desperate to not be that weak, pathetic girl, you’d force yourself to move on, to see what else was out there because that thing you had with him?

It was unsustainable.

With a sigh, you shrugged on your shirt. “Suguru, don’t.”

He chuckled and raised his arms up in surrender. And then you turned to leave but you didn’t get every far, how could you when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to his chest? You were breathless when he brushed your hair back, skimming his lips down the curve of your neck to plant a soft, barely there kiss on your shoulder.

“Have fun.”

And then you were off.

Leaving a long-haired man alone and frowning. Truthfully, he was itching to keep you there, to distract you with some more pleasure or a movie, but he knew that wasn’t fair. The unspoken part about the type of arrangement you two was that no one could get jealous or lay some moronic wolfy-claim on the other.

He focused his attention instead on showering, washing away the remnants of you and even tried to wash away the idea of someone else taking you away. If this date of yours worked out, then that would effectively end your special relationship, devolving back to just ‘friends’.

How pathetic.

No, that wasn’t the most pathetic thing about the entire ordeal. What was truly more pathetic was that he was sat, in his car, outside your place, waiting for that light in your bedroom to go and for you to leave.

You didn’t.

Geto groaned and threw his head back. Relieved as he was that you weren’t with some other prick, he couldn’t shake off that discomfort in his chest at the thought of you being disappointed, embarrassed or anywhere close to sad. He sent a quick text to you. Come out, he said.

Your reply was, I’m not in the mood for sex.

Good. Neither am I.

'...' danced on the screen for a solid minute or two and he thought you were coming up with colourful ways of telling him to disappear, like 'walk off a cliff' or the classic 'fuck off', but you didn’t. Instead, he got a thumbs up and he sighed.

Guess neither of you were willing to give up the game after all.

Choso

He heard it from his brother.

Who heard it from Megumi and he in turn heard it from Nobara. And the details might have differed somewhat as the information got passed along, like the time and place and with whom, but one thing remained consistent.

You have a date.

And man, was Choso distraught. At first, he was speechless, eyes blinking and jaw hanging. Then, he was making odd noises like steam was coming out of his ears. No one knew what to do, no one had ever taught them what the procedure was when a half-curse, half-man suffered from a nervous breakdown.

Eventually, he regained enough life to splutter, “WHAT?”

He fainted.

When he awoke, laid down on a bench, he was very surprised to find you looming over him. You looked beautiful. Positively stunning, and he was certainly stunned. He had a terrible dream, one that left him trembling, but your laughter stilled his shaking hands.

“Choso, did you actually pass out? That’s so crazy.”

The man couldn’t even blush. He was just so happy you were there, with him, talking and laughing, and he could pretend nothing was wrong in the world. Because, if you could smile at him with so much warmth and light and familiarity, there didn’t seem a plausible way for things to be wrong.

Pushing himself upright, he said, sheepishly, “Yeah, I think so. Um, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, y’know, just stopping by to check up on you –”

“That’s really nice of—”

“Before I head off to meet my date!”

"...what.”

You blinked at him. “I have a date. Surprised you didn’t know since the kids have been bothering me about it all day. Well, anyways, happy to see you figuratively back on your feet. Gotta get going now. Bye!”

And then you were gone, completely oblivious to the twitching of Choso’s eye and the way his pigtails quite literally deflated.

There was a pout on his face the rest of the day.

Only on his way back home did that pout disappear because, there, at the end of the street, was you. Only you could look that pretty when miserable. Oh, he was so happy to see you!

Sure, you looked upset, and you were kicking a streetlamp, but he wasn’t the least bit discouraged from skipping over to you, pigtails swinging and a big, wide grin on his face. He shouted your name. You looked up, still mad, but brows relaxing ever so slightly.

“Oh, hey, Cho. What’s up?”

“Nothing! Just heading home. What about you?”

You shrugged. “Well, I was supposed to be on a date, but he never showed up. Didn’t even text me so I guess I’m gonna head home too.”

“Oh, no. That’s terrible.”

The amused look on your face clearly conveyed your disbelief. Choso was many things, a great man, loving brother, fun friend. But a convincing liar? He was not.

“Well,” he began, scratching the back of his neck, “do you wanna just be with me? I mean! Do you want to spend some time with me? Hang out?”

You shrugged again, this time with a smile. And the both of you began walking side by side with no particular destination. He didn’t talk much, just wandered the streets with you. The sun, or at least what remained of it, was warm and the roads were empty. Neither of you could think of a better thing to do than just exist.

Together.

Toji

“Whatd’ya just say?”

He was staring at his kid, the little boy peering back at him with a look of pure innocence. The father, holding a spoon up to his lips, was pissed the hell off. Immediately, he was calling you, still feeding the baby. Your nonchalant voice on the phone made him even more irritated.

“Ya going on a date? Whatd’ya mean ‘none of y’r business? ‘Course it’s my business. Mother of my son prancing around with some other guy ain’t a good look on me, is it? Oh, yeah yeah, the divorce didn’t look good on you either, whatever. So? Is it true? Oh, hell. Can I use my veto? Whatd’ya mean I don't get a veto? What kinda bullshit is that?”

The little boy blabbered, rubbing salt in the man’s wound, as he reminded him his diaper needed changing, immediately, and he had blueberry compote all over his face and clothes. How the hell did the kid manage to get food on the window?

You didn't sound impressed at all, but that was always how you talked to him. And the conversation wasn't going anywhere, much to Toji's frustration. Why did he have to find out from a toddler?

Call ending soon after that, the two boys decided to make the most of their day together.

Sat on his lap, they watched a football game on the TV. Of course, his son wasn’t really paying attention, he was far more interested in the rattling toy in his hand, and in all honesty, neither was Toji. He just kept thinking about the fact that you should be there, with them, cuddled up to his side. Not with some fucking loser. You should be home, comfortable, looking pretty for him and with a ring still on your finger, the way his ring remained on his.

But who was he to say shit?

It was his damn fault to begin with that you were living apart. If only he had cut back on the bad habits and the dangerous jobs. Regret was a damned thing, like a coin dropped in a well and never hearing it drop.

And then searching for another coin so you could wish to get back the fucking coin you should have never dropped to begin with ‘cause you weren’t a fucking pussy.

Ah fuck it.

“Wanna go piss off y’r mum?”

The kid grinned.

And so there the two were, showing up at the door, both with shit-eating grins contrasting your stern glower. You were in a dress, a very sexy dress and Toji wasn’t shy about letting his eyes wander, and you weren’t shy about the finger you showed him.

“Are you kidding, Fushiguro?”

“Kid couldn’t stop asking for ya, so just wanted to let him get a peek before you go off on y’r fancy date,” he replied.

You let them in and with embarrassment lacing your words, you admitted, “Well, date’s cancelled. So, good timing.”

Grin widening, he assured you, “Ah the bastard doesn’t know what he missed out on.”

And soon, you two fell into old routines. You cooked dinner whilst Toji set the table, kid on his back. The conversation shifted from anything and everything and nothing. And after, he cleaned up as you put the baby to sleep. He followed soon after, looping an arm over your shoulder.

“We did good with him, didn’t we?”

When life was that easy, that simple, and good, one was left wondering where did it all go wrong? When did you, or him, or both start wanting more? Or was it the case that things just didn’t work out? Was there still a chance? Should there be? And for whose sake?

Guess none of that mattered. Whether that piece of paper was still there or not, the core of your relationship would never change. Not really.

“Yeah. We did.”

Nanami

There you were, a vision in your suit, sitting at your desk, the way you did every day. He loved his seat; he had the best view of the entire office. Kento especially loved that, for you to get to the water cooler, you had to walk past him, and every single time you did, you’d always stop by, asking how his day was going and whether he’d like his water bottle filling up.

Of course, he declined your very kind offer, but only so he could walk to the water cooler with you, and for the five minutes you two had, you’d chat about all sorts of things – he was more of a listener than a talker, but you never seemed to mind.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that you were the one good thing about this office, and he certainly looked forward to every little interaction with you.

Until one such interaction became his worst nightmare: you had a date. Oh, and how casually you brought that up to him, as if the fluttery atmosphere between you was a figment of his imagination and the way you gushed about this other man certainly left no doubt in his mind.

You did not like him the way he liked you.

That was all he could think about the rest of the day. Even as he wrote up a progress report, attended a client meeting, ate his lunch with the interns he was in charge of, and even when he went to the bathroom to splash cold water on, what he was only then realising to be, a very pale face. Kento must be coming down with something.

For the first time ever, when you got up from your desk and strolled over to his, heels clacking, and asked if he’d like his bottle filling up, he declined. It came out faster than he could process and the shock evident in both of your faces was like a crack in his glasses.

Oh, dear.

You were silent until the end of the day. He didn’t walk out with you, didn’t even get to say goodbye and ‘see you tomorrow’, and he had never been more miserable in his entire life.

With a heavy sigh, he walked out of the office an hour or so later than everyone else and pulled on his tie. A nice warm bath was all he could think about, at least until he spotted you, waiting on the side of the road. You were restless, shuffling on your feet and checking your watch every couple seconds. Being of above average intelligence might not have meant he was a genius but it sure did mean he was smart enough to figure out what had happened.

That bastard.

“Would you like to have a drink or two with me? There are some things I’d like to talk to you about,” he said. Perhaps he shouldn’t have walked up so quietly but it was a habit of his. In that moment, as his pulse was beginning to speed up, all he could think about was how creepy he sounded – he certainly wouldn’t blame you if you ran to HR.

“What things?” You asked.

He smiled, a desperately casual smile to show he was sorry for his cold display. “Well, for one, I’d like to make my case clear; I’d never leave you waiting for me on a date.”

And he never did.

Sukuna

“Repeat that for me. Slow.”

You bit your lip, not at all surprised by his reaction. The King of Curses wasn’t known for his calm disposition, in fact, he was known for exactly the opposite. Still, he was nice to you, an ordinary servant in his grand estate doing this and that. One could not put a finger to exactly when this...friendship, should we say... developed but it was one you so terribly cherished.

Working at the estate of a mass murdering, sadistic monster – your family’s words, not yours – meant you didn’t maintain many friendships. So, to have one with him felt like standing in the eye of the storm, even if that storm was always so fickle and the eye kept moving.

“I’m. Going. On. A. Date,” you recited, enunciating every syllable loud and clear. When he gave an instruction, you’d found it was always best to be quite literal, lest he tired of your mortal limitations.

“No.”

Blink.

Adjusting your robes, you clarified, “No? Sorry, my Lord, but whatever do you mean by ‘no?’”

The tall, hulking man, or rather curse, walked on, his long legs taking him so far within seconds you had to run to catch up. He loved doing that. He thought it funny, you supposed. “Just that. No.”

“But, my Lord, I don’t think you can really interfere with my personal life.”

He stopped.

You bumped into his back, the smell of sweet death and gentle fire filling your senses. And when he turned, looking down at you with all those eyes, one of his hands gripped your jaw, pulling you upwards and much closer to his face than ever before.

“Can’t I?”

Then he was gone.

You didn’t see him the rest of the day. Neither did any of the servants. Perhaps he was mad at you, after all you had no business, and no authority at that, to tell him what he could or couldn’t do. You got complacent, too confident and cocky. You overestimated the depth of your friendship and the limits of his patience. It would be a surprise to no one if you were found dead before dusk.

There were no texts from your date. Not a single one. Not even after you texted to ask if you were still on for night. And when every call when to voicemail, you were so sure you had been ghosted before you could even meet the guy. Sukuna was right.

Men were no good.

Living at the estate had its perks: no commute, easy access to your necessities lest you forgot something essential, and the walk over to your quarters was magnificent. The well-kept garden was beautiful and that was really as far as your feeble mind could go in terms of putting into words the glorious sight you saw every morning and night.

But that evening had been different.

Your master was there, in his robes, bottom set of arms tucked into the sleeves whilst the top set were crossed. He looked just as regal as he always did, and the sight made your heart clench. One secret you’d take the grave would be that the friendship you so sincerely cherished was one you also sincerely resented; to be a teased with all that you could have but would never get was a torturous pain you wouldn't wish on your worst enemies.

“My Lord, may I help you?”

He beckoned you over. When his hand reached for your head, you were sure it was to slice it clean off, but instead he picked at a fluff and flicked it away with so much disgust, revulsion, and abhorrence you couldn’t help but laugh.

Something flashed in his eyes. And then his features softened.

“You did not go on your date?”

You couldn’t even pretend to be sad. “No, he never replied so I guess he lost interest.”

He hummed.

The two of you began strolling again, just as you did most days, sometimes even multiple times a day when he was feeling especially irritable. The tone of his voice held a certain sharpness you couldn’t quite place and when he met your gaze, the soft glow of the lanterns making him look gentler, much more human, more...attainable, you finally spotted a speckle of what you knew to be blood, having cleaned it off the floors and walls yourself too many times.

And your imagination ran wild, a frenzy of butterflies appearing in your stomach.

Sukuna really was too sweet for your own good.

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simpjaes · 2 days ago

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exhibition ― s. jy

Requested by anonymous via tumblr: cam boy jake. That’s it.Jake is your college roommate and he needs to buy a camera for his online classes. Curiosity gets the better of him, leading to a lot of extra money and, well, finding out that you’ve been a little too curious about what he's doing. Or the one where your roommate flaunts his secret job at you, not thinking you’d go out and search for him. And definitely not thinking you’d be getting off to him either.

MDNI

WORDCOUNT― 4.9k

PAIRING�� cam boy jake x afab reader

CONTENT― college setting but it’s mosting within the apartment they share, cam boy jake, confused best friend reader, smut WARNINGS― none but brief mention of mommy kink in passing

NOTE―this isn't proof read ;o;

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Seven hundred.”

“What?” “That’s how much I made last night,” Jake’s eyes shine brighter and brighter with each word, a crooked smile plastered across his face as he sleepily blinks. “I didn’t even have to do anything weird either.”

You pause as you sip your morning coffee, wrapped up in a blanket and head pounding at the amount of stress and work you’ve had to get done while he was too busy playing with himself on camera for dozens of people. Or maybe hundreds. Thousands?

“What did you do then?” You raise a brow, not entirely checked in on his boasting this morning, though it is impressive.

Jake always shares how much he makes after each session. What started with fifteen dollars is now reaching seven hundred. Surely your best friend isn’t just jerking off, right?

“Well, it was a little weird, but not that bad.” He avoids the question with a vague answer, suddenly feeling his face heat up. “Just a little here and there, y’know?”

You narrow your eyes instantly. So he does do weird shit for money! You knew it! No way could someone make that much money in such a short span of time by regular jerking off.

“Just a little what?” You stare him down, now placing your coffee on the table and leaning towards him. He knows better than anyone that you, of all people, can point out if he lies. Meaning, he has to be honest.

And so, he shrugs, trying to be nonchalant about it.

“Mommy.” He says it like he’s saying any other word, as if he’s uncaring, as if it was worth the money. “Just had to say it a few times and the money came pouring in.”

Your eyes narrow at him even more.

“What else?” You question. “There’s no way they’d accept it unless you…”

He raises his brow at you now, tilting his head in cheeky curiosity.

“Unless I cried? Edged? Let them torture me a little bit?” He smiles. “Yeah, I know.”

You’re a bit shocked, the images of what that must have looked like for his viewers forcing your curiosity to grow. His smug face looking back at you now serves as proof that he very well may be into that kind of thing. Almost like he’s sharing a kink with you, which…is not something the two of you do.

Despite being roommates, and without any mention of how long you’ve been friends, sex has never been a topic until he started this whole camboy thing.

You remain calm though. This is Jake you’re talking to. He’s the last person you want to see drooling and cumming all over himself.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Okay so, you’re a liar.

All day, all fucking day you’ve thought about it. It’s not that you’re into the kink, or even that you’re into Jake. You’re just…curious about how smug he is about it. And yeah, it’s probably just a huge confidence boost to have all sorts of people rubbing one out to you while paying your bills, but still.

You’re only a liar because that so-called confidence makes him more open about it. More loud. More comfortable. More…horny?

You can tell by now, weeks after he started. You could never hear a peep from his bedroom, not a single moan or sigh at first. Now though, he’s only gotten louder. You hear the moans, the dirty talk into his camera, the usernames, all of it.

“Thank you–mmf– cumslut2000.”

God, you hate that you didn’t cringe hearing him say that. It was the moan mid-sentence maybe, or the sultry tone you’ve never heard from him until now. You can’t help but squeeze your legs together with an annoyed groan, practically leaping for your headphones shortly after because, absolutely the fuck not.

Not Jake. It’s too weird.

And the days pass like that, casual with him as he discusses his pay where you no longer question because now you’d just think too hard about the details. The nights pass like that too, where he’s louder, louder, louder, until you can almost hear him through your muffled videos and playlists.

Until you are forced to feel the arousal just like the rest of his viewers. You can’t escape the attraction despite wishing, hoping, fucking praying for your head to stop wanting to hear more.

You know better than anyone though, hoping and praying does nothing for you and the only thing that will help this situation between your legs is seeing. Proving to yourself, so to say, that seeing Jake act like that will feel gross. It will turn you off. It will solidify that Jake is your best friend and your roommate, nothing more.

It’s easy to find him too. All you had to do was abandon your headphones tonight, waiting for him to introduce himself via username to his stream.

Doggystyle02.

That’s what he picked? He can’t be fucking serious.

You’re excited as you google the username, enabling NSFW search and finding him within seconds. Excited to lose the interest that’s driving you up a fucking wall, that is. And before you click into his stream, you inspect.

Yeah, that’s definitely his abs oiled up in his profile picture. You choose to ignore his uh…thing under his sweats, heavy, leaving a little spot on the front of them.

Oh, 23k followers? And he started two, maybe three months ago? People want Jake that badly? And you just…live here with him? You get to see him daily, and hear him playing all these kinky roles in real life? God, you just know if the viewers knew they’d be saying shit like “If i lived with you, I’d be on that cock every day.” Blah, blah, blah.

They don’t know Jake like you know him. He’s just a dude, not some sex god.

Then…something in your gut stirs. It flips, it bubbles, your face warms up. The comments on his profile asking him all sorts of things, saying all sorts of things and he just…responds? Reciprocates?

Cumslut2000 comments: god i want you to hold me down and make me take it

Doggystyle02: Don’t sweet talk me like that, you know how I get.

Oh, does she now? How the fuck would she know anything about Jake. Your best friend. Your roommate.

DPlover: can we plllleeease do another private show?

Doggystyle02: book me for later, i’ll even give you a discount <3

Another private show?! A fucking discount?!

Blushy: im too shy to talk when you’re online but i really, really want you.

Doggystyle02: you wanna talk in private? I’ll message you and bring you right out of that shell. let me take care of you baby

You’re speechless. During his private job, where he doesn’t share his name but he shows his fucking face, he publicly talks to people like this? He’s never so much as looked at you for too long after you’ve gotten out of the shower, yet he wants to take care of a fucking loser ass bitch who is too shy to talk to him?

Sexually?!

Safe to say, never in your life did you ever think you’d find yourself jealous of people who get Jake’s attention. To you, he’s always just been, well, Jake. The guy who ran up your apartment stairs on all fours the day you moved in, the boy who constantly did your homework for you in highschool because he knew you wouldn’t graduate with him if he didn’t, the absolute best friend who followed you to the same college, saved you from the dorms by becoming your roommate, and now…somehow, seems…more than just what he was before.

Surely you’re just horny though. Curious, in the mood, whatever. Anyone would be when there’s a porn set just a wall over, right?

You shake your thoughts, knowing you’ll just make yourself sick if you keep reading all of his little public comments and start wondering what he says in private to them. You scroll up instead, glancing at his abs again before your eyes land directly on what you were trying so hard to avoid.

He’s kind of packing, you can’t lie. If he wasn’t Jake, you’d probably be ogling, rubbing out to him just like everyone else. Hah. You chuckle, shaking your head at your own stupidity, ready for these weird feelings to be eradicated the second you click into his stream.

Except…jesus fucking christ.

The comments roll in faster than you can read. The money is pouring in, and he’s sitting there on camera with that same dopey grin he gives you every morning. There’s something else with his smile though, a little lip bite, some tongue darting action to wet his lips. Hair falling into his eyes…jesus.

After a minute or two of staring at your best friend’s face, ignoring the movement of his shoulders attached to the hand that’s…doing something, a pop up covers his image entirely.

Never in your life have you signed up for something so fast, typing in a string of cute letters and numbers to differentiate yourself in the sea of horny viewers. And then his image is back, and your eyes trail straight down.

Instantly you choke up, watching the way he uses his hands with that expression on his face. It really is just typical jerking off but…something about it. Something about the way he flicks his own nipples with a seething lip bite, bucking his hips up before shining his pouting eyes into the camera, as if wishing any or all viewers were there to do it for him. And god, the way he looks kind of wet? Like, oiled up or lotion, maybe lubed up, you don’t know. His hips slide that thing through his fist so easily, making squelching sounds all the while.

That’s…that’s really him. And he’s not even ten feet from your bedroom door looking like this. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to get up and interrupt him.

What would you even do? What would you say?

So, you just watch, completely forgetting that you were doing this to get rid of the curiosity, not feed into the sexuality of a man you’ve known for so long as nothing more than your closest friend.

Over a thousand dollars made in just one stream by the time he logs off, and those moans echo in your brain. Hearing them so clearly through your headphones just…wow. And, well, you did your best.

You swore you’d never get off to the image of Jake after all this curiosity started, it’s just, you can’t help it now. At least he wasn't on your screen, moaning and whimpering for all the faceless people watching. You waited. Your belly burned and your clit throbbed through all of it, and only when he made a mess of himself with that same fucking smile before logging off did you finally give yourself what you needed.

You don’t know why you did that, and you don’t know why the muffled stream of his shower just down the hallways is what sticks in your head when you finally reach your own orgasm.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Over a thousand this time.”

“Oh?” You awkwardly avoid his eye contact, stiffening your shoulders at the mere mention of his stream from last night.

“Yeah, not sure why they gave me so much this time though…” He trails off briefly, inspecting your posture and sudden defensive stance. “I didn’t even do any of the kinks.”

Well…you know why he made that much. He wouldn’t even need to feed the fetish crowd to make a decent living off of this, not with a face like that, a cock like that. It’s only natural he starts making more and more with each lengthy stream.

“Yeah, that’s weird.” You answer shortly, rummaging through cabinets despite your lunch sitting on the table across from him.

“Yeah…” He notes the shift, feeling tension in the air. “Are you okay?”

“What? Me?” You ground both feet on the floor now, abandoning the cabinet as you turn towards him and look to the floor.

You can’t do it. You can’t look at him.

“I’m perfectly fine, what gives you that idea?”

You hear him stand from the table, taking his usual Jake-esque strides toward you. Then, he leans forward and tilts his head, chasing your eyes with his own and forcing you to look at him.

“Well, you haven’t even looked at me all morning,” He smiles, tapping your chin. “Was I too loud or something? Did it make you feel awkward?”

Oh, an out! An excuse!

“No, no, I just –”

Now, why the fuck did you say no? Why are you looking at him now, stopping mid-sentence entirely stunned because, yep, that’s him alright. You saw him cum. You watched him do it, you listened, and you fucking liked it.

And now you’re looking him in the face, and he’s giving you that same smile, and you’re…oh god.

“I–”

He tilts his head again, blinking twice before narrowing his eyes.

“Spit it out. What happened? Jay do something?”

Your words are caught in your throat, cheeks hot, stomach doing flips…Your eyes glance down without intention, right to his groin and he sees it. He even pulls back a bit, looking surprised before softening his expression.

“Don’t tell me you–” His voice is softer now too, but he calls out your name. “Why are you being so weird?”

You can tell he doesn’t want to make the assumption, and arguably, you’re bad at hiding things from him.

“I kind of, like, accidentally saw your stream last night.” You say it so fast, avoiding eye contact again by embarrassingly staring right between his legs. “It feels weird now.”

He laughs. He fucking laughs, but it’s kind of like, a smug laugh? A chuckle?

“Oh now it’s weird?” He rolls his eyes. “Relax, it’s not weird.”

“It is though! You’re, well, you! I didn’t need to see that!”

“Then why’d you watch?” He smirks, reaching a hand out to tilt your chin up at him again. And he’s done this many times in the past. Platonic, lovely little touches from someone who will protect and appreciate you. This though, this is…

“Go on. Tell me. Why is it weird now?” He encourages you to admit it. “Because you liked it?”

You remain silent, unwilling to answer.

“I grossed you out?”

“No!” An immediate disagreement there, one that only digs your hole deeper. “I just–didn’t expect that.”

“So you did watch it.” He leans back now, crossing his arms and staring you down. “Did you enjoy yourself?

What is he fucking asking right now? The worst part about this is if you don’t answer, it’s still a fucking answer. But you don’t want to like, lie, because already you couldn’t even make it through a fucking morning with him after seeing it. So, with the smallest voice you have, so small you hope he can’t hear it, you whisper.

“Yes.”

And if you were to look him in the face right now, you’d have seen that smug look go to curiosity. You’d have seen the split second of his adoration for you merging with a new view, a new feeling, and possibly a new need.

“Wait, did you–?” He even feels a bit shy now, his ears practically on fire as he keeps his eye on you, and the way you curl in on yourself with the admittance. “Did you..touch yourself?”

A small nod, you squeeze your eyes shut.

Then you hear him hold his breath, taking a step back from you. You’ve touched yourself to him, he can’t believe it. After all these years, never once looking at him like that…not even he looked at you like that but now?

He pictures it. The way you must’ve been in your room all alone, knowing what he’s doing, searching him up, then confirming it for yourself. You liked it. You liked what you saw and you got off to it.

And now he can’t stop smiling. Proud, he feels proud.

“Well, don’t feel weird.” He finally says, trying to ease your discomfort. “It’s just…a normal thing. I don’t think you’re weird.”

With that, the conversation dies, fades entirely into awkwardness as you both split off.

You need space to think.

He needs space to think.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’re doing it again, as if just this morning you didn’t have to bury yourself 6 feet under right in front of him.

Neither of you spoke after that. Avoiding each other consistently throughout the day with knowing, growing, and exhausting tension. Yet still, he’s started his stream, and here you are, watching it with a dazed look.

You don’t know how to feel or what to do. Your head doesn’t anyway, your body knows too well what it wants and needs, and you hate yourself for making it so awkward between the two of you. Why did you tell him? You wonder if he’d be uncomfortable knowing you’re watching again, this time knowing your hand will stray as you watch.

You wonder, and wonder, will he think you’re disrespecting your friendship by doing this not once, but twice?

Then, you hear him.

“Can we do some roleplay today?” He speaks out to the chat, cock pressing against his briefs, head tilted with his messy hair in the very computer chair you bought for him.

Last time, he was sprawled out on his bed, and you wonder if he always starts his streams this way.

“I want you to imagine we live together, and you know I’m in my room fucking myself, begging, needy for anything, anyone to touch me.” He looks into the camera. “Let’s say you’d hear it too. I’m loud on purpose…”

“Tell me what you’d do to me.”

You stare forward blankly, frozen on the spot at his words, then your eyes flick to the chat.

“You wouldn’t see the front door ever again.”

“I’d be on you within seconds.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to turn your camera on, just come home and I'd be waiting.”

Oh.

Jake hums at the responses, whispering them to himself.

“Ah,” Jake reads a specific comment with a nod. “I’d be an idiot to not jump at the opportunity.”

And the rest of his words become muffled as your ears pop. Is he…talking about you right now? Was he expecting you to watch again?

“If that ever happens to me, just know I’d be grateful for all of you. Running to help me feel good, you’re all so good to me.” He giggles now. Fucking giggles. “Alright, enough of that.”

Jake stares into the camera again, and you can’t help it. It feels like he’s staring at you. Straight through your fucking soul at this point.

“I have a lot of stress to relieve.” He ends on that note, skewing his pants down and making haste.

He’s not slow or cute with it like he was before. He’s aggressive, almost frustrated. His eyebrows furrow, his lips become red from his biting and chewing, and you watch the money flood in.

The comments blurring past, words of, “Oh fuck,” and “This is new.” before suddenly, you hear an irritated sigh. A string of curse words pour from his lips, his hand squeezing the base of his cock so tightly, and spurts of cum shooting up his chest, only to drip down slowly.

“What a waste.” He comments shortly at himself, heaving in a breath before he breaks out into his usual smile. “Sorry to end on such a short note, just thought I’d let you guys join me for a quickie!”

Then he’s gone, the stream lasting about ten minutes in total.

And apparently so is your fucking sanity because why is it that now you find yourself getting out of your bed, feeling the wet between your legs drip, and you’re heading for your bedroom door just to get to him?

Why is he standing right outside, as if he was already waiting for you to open it?

And it’s silent now as you stare at each other. Him, with his sweatpants skewed over his waist, cum still on his chest, breath still uneven. Then you, practically vibrating to get on him.

“You’re looking at me like you want me to eat you out.” He says, already pushing you right back through your bedroom door, letting you flop back on your bed as he instantly pulls at your shorts. “Want me to kiss you first?”

You feel your head spin the second you flop back and feel your shorts being pulled off, and before you can even comprehend his question, he’s already kissing you. Hot, heated. He sounds just as frustrated as he did just minutes ago getting off by himself. You don’t even mind the cum on his chest, nor the way he spreads your legs with his knee to get more comfortable.

It’s happening. This is what kissing Jake feels like. This is what everyone wants from him, but it’s you that’s getting it. Has he always been like this? Good at kissing? Firm with his movements? Confident as he kisses down, down, down, giving you what he thinks you want?

You do want it. Perhaps you were looking at him like you wanted him to eat you out, and now he’s doing it. Breathing shortly right against your clit without so much as savoring his view before diving in, tongue instantly licking from your hole straight to your clit and sucking.

He hums around the taste, both hands holding your inner thighs and keeping your legs open. And he just…keeps humming, licking and sucking you so good that you can’t help but cry out and tug at that fucked up mess of hair on his head.

Jake likes that. He likes the way you hold your breath and the way your legs shake around his ears. He likes even more the way he knew you were watching him tonight, and that you looked like you were coming straight to his room to jump him.

So strange how quickly things can change, so strange how good his best friend must have tasted all these years, and he had never once considered it. And now, he blinks up at you, seeing the way you close your eyes and breathe through it, like you’re calming yourself down, thinking both too much and not at all.

Easily he runs his hands up and under your shirt, feeling the soft skin of your belly before gently running his palms over your perked nipples. He continues to stare up, watching you, tasting you, loving this a little more than he ever knew he would.

He did want you, he does want you. His cock has been aching all day for you since the moment he found out you thought of him. Jake thinks you’d be tight, because lord knows you haven’t gotten laid in a hot minute, and that quick jerk off session was absolutely for you.

He wants to show off to you, wants you to see him more than anyone else can. Yet, it’s you he’s seeing more of right now and he doesn’t mind that so much.

His eyes flick back down, allowing his fingertips to toy gently with your nipples as he skews his head, essentially making out with your pussy, slurping the slick you offer and not letting a single bit of it go to waste. Then, he dips in, pointing his tongue right against your pulsing hole and pressing in.

There’s that tug of his hair again, your legs squeezing around him and your hips bucking up.

Oh, you like that.

So, he does it harder and with more focus. He squeezes his eyes shut and prepares to not breathe for a bit, licking as far into you as he can, his nose easily pressing your clit in such a beautiful way that all you can do now is moan.

Genuinely moan for him. His name in a little hiccup followed by a curse.

Fuck, you’re so hot to him right now. Anyone would be fucking lucky to be in your bed at all, and finally it’s him. As if he’s been waiting for years despite never needing a turn previously.

And this continues until he can’t breathe, his fingers growing more needy against your tits, his tongue reaching deeply before pulling out and allowing him to take a deep breath that is scented entirely in you. Then, he fucking nuzzles it.

You glance down with a heaved breath, legs shaking as you watch him do it. Eyes closed gently, rubbing his nose and lips against your clit in such a gentle, loving way that it has you melting instantly.

“Jake–” You whisper in a breath, the first word you’ve said to him since you opened your bedroom door.

All he does is shoot his gaze to you and continues his nuzzles, uncaring of whatever you need to say if it isn’t you asking him to fuck you right now. And arguable, you have nothing to say anyway.

You just…needed to say his name. Needed to solidify that you just broke a boundary with him willingly, and he doesn’t care. You don’t care.

You feel the thumping in your chest, your clit throbbing with each little rub he lends before you sit up slightly on your elbows, balancing yourself before reaching a hand down.

He leans into your palm on his cheek, like a puppy wanting love. Then his hands leave your chest and find their way to your hips. His doe eyes instantly sharpen, and you’re instantly being pushed back down to your bed.

“Want me to be whatever you want? Let you do whatever you want to me?” He finally says, licking his lips as he makes his way up to hover over you, making sure to lift your shirt enough to expose both of your tits. “Just like I ask?”

You find yourself nodding before taking it back, shaking your head.

“I don’t want it to be like that–” You trail off, avoiding his intense gaze and suddenly feeling very vulnerable under him. “I just want you. The Jake I’ve always had.”

Another shocked look reaches his expression. He’s a bit surprised, assuming that all of this was simply because you watched his stream and didn’t expect to be so turned on. He thought this would be a one and done thing. A “let’s forget this ever happened,” thing.

But you want him? Not the acting? Not the kinks, or the cocky grinning? You want the best friend in him, the part of him that was never sexual, never confident, never willing to approach women.

He looks at you in question.

“I don’t know how to be that right now.” He finally says, pressing his hips down and against you with a choked moan. “How can I be that when I want to fuck you so badly?”

You find yourself smiling, running your hands through his hair to get it out of his face before shrugging.

“When have we ever known what we were doing?” You ask quietly, wincing slightly at how hard he’s gotten, knowing that you’re not having to see him through a screen now.

That’s all he needed to hear before keeping eye contact and reaching down with one hand. You can’t bare to look down, knowing some sort of embarrassing sound will leave your throat. You decide to feel it instead.

And goddamn, do you fucking feel it.

He slides in easily, but the size of him stretches you far past anything you could have imagined. This is him, he’s this big. This is what Jake’s cock feels like and it has your chest caving in over it.

All you can do is hug him, clinging to him through the stretch and hoping the way your cunt squeezes around him isn’t hurting him.

“God, fuck.” He says in a quick whisper, arms shaking to hold himself up as you hug him. “You’re so tight, fuck.”

You smile against his messy chest at the compliment, basking in it really before allowing yourself to freely adjust. Your body clenches him tightly, and he remains still through it until he can’t anymore.

He drops to the bed, flush against you without warning and the moans start pouring from his chest. He can’t stop even if he wanted to, can’t control his hips, his words, his thoughts.

He just lays here flush against you, letting his hips move freely and rapidly. In, out, in, out. So clumsy, so loud, and goddamn does it feel fucking amazing.

You moan alongside him, petting his hair with each thrust, feeling his cheek against your tits move with each drop of his jaw. Even when his moans are silent, you know he feels good and that makes you happy.

None of those little bitches in his chat could get him like this, surely. He’s not acting right now. He’s Jake.

And that’s what makes it so good, you think. That’s why he has so much cum to put in you, apologizing through it all because the fear of this act comes with the orgasm. Apologizing for fucking you, for cumming in you, for getting off so quickly, promising you that he’ll make you cum too.

It’s then that you realize, when he’s got his face back down between your legs, sucking his mess out of you…maybe you have feelings now.

And maybe that’s not such a bad thing either.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

remember that you can get early access and/or tip me via patreon! love and comments would be appreciated <3<3<3<3

#enhypen smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake smut #jake sim smut #enhypen x reader

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darkhestur · 2 days ago

Text

Just adding for those that may do it without paying a lot of attention.

First, you'll get an auto response saying "if it's about X (that has nothing to do with the issue), we can consider the case closed"

No, click on the button that sends the ticket.

Later on, you'll get auto replies about how to do stuff like reportinng harrasment and what not.

If you don't reply, the ticket will have never left the "bot stage", so reply to the mail reinstating your concerns so it actually reaches someone from Discord's support.

If further steps are needed (as I get to face them), I'll update this.

Discord has added generative AI features to servers.

Here are THREE THINGS you need to do today.

1️⃣ YOUR SERVER

Go into server settings -> roles -> Default permissions

Search for "external apps" and disable it

2️⃣ YOUR FEEDBACK

Access Discord support -> https://support.discord.com/hc/en-us/requests/new

Go into Help & Support > Feedback/New Feature Request

Denounce generative AI and request the feature be removed. Bring up privacy concerns for yourself, your data, and for minors.

You will get an automatic reply to this request- PLEASE REPLY TO THE EMAIL TO PUSH IT TO THE TEAM or else it will get discarded.

3️⃣ ON MOBILE

Access your app store

Leave a 1 star review and publicly denounce generative AI and Discord's use of it

Reblog this to spread the word, I'm tired of the enshittification of the things I use in my day to day life.

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fleuriion · 2 days ago

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✦ Chiming Bell ノ MODERN! High school hcs with the Chrysos Heir because I love them so much ⸝⸝ gn reader ⸝⸝ wc: 1780 ✦ Note ; The usual grammar error and spelling mistakes warning ⸝⸝ if they come across as ooc then I apologize because I'm still not very confident in my ability of writing HSR characters haha ⸝⸝ This can be interpreted as both romantic and platonic as your liking! ⸝⸝ will probably edit out some mistakes ⸝⸝ I'm very sorry for not including Hyacine TT

♡ Phainon ⸝⸝ I feel like he's kind of a jock BUT also not a jock. Like, he's not THOSE jocks that get angry at you if you cannot catch the ball that is beaming at 1000 mph to your face. ⸝⸝ Those popular kids that are actually super nice to everyone. I feel like he doesn't judge people much and if he does dislike someone, will not rub it in their face unless they deserve to. ⸝⸝ Basically just a ray of sunshine. Definitely has Mydei as his seatmate and I just imagine Phainon walking into class greeting everyone every morning and then Mydei is just sitting there massaging his temple, wondering how he's so bright this early. ⸝⸝ While he's generally super nice, I think Phainon is also pretty mischievous though. I can already imagine him getting into some light troubles and then having to sweep the hallway as a punishment LMAO. ⸝⸝ Probably enjoys learning history and literature, he just gets super sleepy and perhaps bored in them. Decent at math but HORRIBLE at science like chemistry. Phainon comes up to Mydei as lab partner and Mydei prays the two of them don't get involved in any sorts of explosion or chemical accident /j ⸝⸝ When Phainon is pinning on you, he will 100% turn into a golden retriever. Follows you around in a non-creepy way, helps you carry stuff, probably tries tutoring you the best he could, sometimes ask to have lunch together and then drags you to the rest of his friends. ⸝⸝ Gets super shy about it and it didn't escape his friends. Also gets not bullied but teased a lot for it, when you walked past them far enough, I feel like most likely Mydei would go "holy shit is that Phainon's lover walking past by just now?!" ⸝⸝ When he announced that the two of you are dating to his friends, they would hold their pearl necklace and pretend like they're shocked (except it's so purposefully exaggerated it's hilarious wow Phainon you're so slick!) ♡ Aglaea ⸝⸝ I hc'd that the Chrysos Heir is basically akin to the Student Council in the modern world, so expect no less that Aglaea is definitely the president or at the VERY least the vice president. ⸝⸝ That one strict classmate who always looks her best and behaves the best too. Probably a class president or rep too?? Would reprimand her classmates or the other students to mind both their attire and attitude. ⸝⸝ Teacher's pet, except she's one that you can't really walk over or trample. Girl just has that aura in her for not only being smart but also beautiful?!?! (My GOAT Aglaea as always) ⸝⸝ Looks scary at first glance, but if you need her help with studying she would help say no more! That one meme that goes like "would you let me copy your homework?" "no, but I'll help you with it" ⸝⸝ This may sound pretty personal and specific but hc that she excels and enjoys public speaking. Her words and articulations are probably amazing if you get what I mean... ⸝⸝ Honestly, if she is pinning on you? Nobody would pretty much find out about it unless she personally said so. I'm sorry but Aglaea strikes off to me as the type to be super good at hiding aka slick with her feelings for someone. (Ironically for being the bearer of Mnestia's coreflame in lore lol) ⸝⸝ So when she told her friends that you two are dating, their surprise is actually real and pure. ⸝⸝ It's still noticeable though subtle tho! Aglaea will be extra mindful of you and will no doubt worry about your grades and your performance. Would help you study even if it takes time say less! ♡ Mydei

⸝⸝ Similarly to Phainon, seems like a jock but isn't too much of a jock once you get to know about him. I think it's pretty much just a first impression since he's physically well built and healthy. For someone with his looks, Mydei is a pretty quiet and calm seatmate, ones targeted by people who is just full on comical nonsense (Trailblazer for instance…. They're so stupid I love them).

⸝⸝ Seemingly messy appearance (that slightly loose collar and messily tied tie fix that rn Mydei i hate hastily tied tie and sometimes spends 5 minutes redoing it if I couldn't get it right sobs), but is actually very discipline and a pretty decent student. Also hc that he uses reading glasses.

⸝⸝ Bluddy is probably the first to arrive at class and is usually pretty punctual with a few exceptions being made. Definitely that one friend who sleeps early and wakes up early. Probably lets you copy his homework just so you can get off his ass.

⸝⸝ Excels at history, terrible at math, probably decent at chemistry??? Hear me out though, he's terrible at math and physics but he's interested in them so it's kind of a party pooper LAMFAO (self projecting). Mydei doesn't hate it, he probably just doesn't understand it.

⸝⸝ Those type of guys that people are scared of because of his appearance, but is actually good with juniors. He helps them with studying and getting the subject's concept wrapped around their head and somehow patient for a man that doesn't look like he has patience at all.

⸝⸝ When Mydei pins on you, he won't look nor act THAT much different around you. If you're a much more comical or hilarious kind of person, he endures and tolerates you more. He will offer more lending hands though; for instance, explaining things you don't understand more, willingly tutors you, sneaks gifts into your desk or locker and then softly denies it when questioned (you're not slick bro.)

⸝⸝ Mydei doesn't announce it if you two are dating, rather, his friends found out on their own by the slight flush on his face when he's around you and the way his fierce eyes seemed to simmer down a little when you're around.

♡ Castorice

⸝⸝ SUPER quiet and probably finds it hard to communicate all the time. The reason people know her is mostly because she's apart of the Student Council, but that aside, she's also super kind and nice!

⸝⸝ Hangs around Aglaea a lot and acts as her 'assistant' or similar. Also a teacher's pet except on the more mellow side and one that even the meanest of the mean doesn't have the heart to mock.

⸝⸝ She probably could be vice president.. But that's just a rough gut and because I see her as one. Also reprimands her classmates and other students to be mindful of their attire and attitude.

⸝⸝ Generally good at any subjects given, but I hc that Castorice really likes art and music classes. The atmosphere is quieter and much more peaceful that even her mind could rest a little. Definitely joins clubs like sewing club.

⸝⸝ Sometimes sleeps on recess because I see her as those super-tired looking type of people who can doze off while standing but refrains on doing so in classes. Due to this, probably picks the seat closer to the window to hide away from the lights at the center of the class.

⸝⸝ When Castorice pins on you, she will subtly get super shy around you. Sometimes stutters on her speech and is extra polite at you much to the awkwardness. Be prepared for cuteness overload!!

⸝⸝ Castorice definitely makes things for you! A small crochet plush, flower crowns, or some fake flowers that reminds her of you. Surfs into flower language to express her affection to you by making said flowers for you!

⸝⸝ Castorice would reluctantly yet shyly declares her love for you one random evening, and the rest of the Chyrsos Heir is totally NOT spying at you two from behind some bushes. ♡ Anaxa

⸝⸝ This man is canonically a professor according to the in-game lore what else do I need to say??

⸝⸝ That one smart kid who's super snarky and sarcastic. If you think Mydei is pretty sarcastic for someone, then behold Anaxagoras and his sharp yet elegant tongue that totally does not remind me of a certain doctor.

⸝⸝ He definitely no doubt enjoys subjects science related. Chemistry, physics, biology, name it. Yet nobody really dares to approach him and ask him to be their lab partner due to, again, the aura that surrounds him. You feel like you're shrinking per second you stand next to him if you don't know anything about him. Also hc that he enjoys scientific debates.

⸝⸝ He probably goes overseas to attend science olympics like a lot, and obviously comes back with victory by his side. He's probably academic rivals with Aglaea haha. I can just see them competing for the school's 1st place.

⸝⸝ Anaxa gets avoided by plenty people because of his personality, but he doesn't pay any mind nor does he care about it. After all, his only interest currently is knowledge, isn't it..?

⸝⸝ Well that's until you, who doesn't seem to be that much avoidant of him, came along to his life. Anaxa is that one person that goes deep into denial when he has feelings for someone. "NO. WDYM I HAVE FEELINGS FOR THEM. FUCK."

⸝⸝ The rest of the Chrysos Heir found out about this when one random day, Anaxa suddenly came up to Hyacine and started asking her questions related to feelings that are leaning a little bit tooooo much on the romantic side (much to his dismay and denial). Even with his denial, he found himself coming up to the pink haired girl and asking her about this… Very foreign feeling of what she described as "butterflies fluttering in his stomach" and a suspiciously big grin on her face.

⸝⸝ Like Phainon, Anaxa doesn't escape the constant teasing from the Chrysos Heir for this, mainly Aglaea. She will devilishly giggle into her fingertips and make subtle jabs at him when she talks to you; "[name], do you have just any idea how breathtaking you are?" while giving Anaxa looks to which he responded with not only a glare but a suspiciously burning pair of ear tips <3

#fleuriion #writing #hsr #honkai star rail #mydei x reader #mydei x y/n #hsr mydei #phainon x reader #phainon x y/n #hsr phainon #aglaea x reader #hsr aglaea #castorice x reader #hsr castorice #anaxa x reader #hsr anaxa #x reader #hsr x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 day ago

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Doing Time 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

Note: I need the weekend to come so I can cum

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"Things aren't too bad. Not since I got my ass kicked," Vaughn chortles. "Mighta knocked some sense into this thick skull at last."

"Hopefully," you agree. "Mom said--"

"I tried calling. She didn't pick up."

"Oh..."

"Why-- Why should I even bother?" His humour fades to hostility, "and why are you acting like you're my mother? When she does answer, she just calls me a fuck up. Like I don't fucking know."

"Vaughn," you hum, "please, I'm not trying to piss you off."

"But you are," he snarls. "Always gotta ruin a good time, don't ya?"

You frown. This is the Vaughn you don't know. The one with the anger like a grenade pin. One tug and it's over. You sit back and wait. Arguing only fuels the flames.

"You're the one person who's s'posed to believe in me and you're nagging me about mom," he snarls.

You look away guiltily. You wonder how he'd react if you told him about Steve. If you mentioned that the reason things 'aren't too bad' is because you did something just as stupid as him. Somehow, you don't think that him knowing you do dumb stuff too will help.

He tugs at his cuffs. The guards come forward. You say his name again.

"Vaughn, please--"

"Piss off! Yeah, you meat head, get me outta here," he turns his wrath on the guard. "Waste of my time."

"Please, I didn't-- I just--"

"I told you not to talk about it no more," he barks. He did. You didn't listen.

Your eyes well. You don't know what happened to him. Where did all this anger come from? As you watch the guards unhook him and he stomps away, you can only think you may have made a good decision talking to Steve. At least there's someone in there who can help. Or try to.

You wiggle your nose and dab your eyes with your knuckle. That was embarrassing as much as it was scary. The guard on the other side returns.

"We'll bring the next early, miss."

"Thanks," you nod. You recognise him. You realise most of the guards must know your face too. It's so strange to think this is a normal part of your life now. That this has become your social life as late.

It isn't long before Steve appears. He sits calmly lets himself be leashed. He leans forward and takes the receiver. You still have yours in hand but it's against the table. You lift it.

"Couldn't wait to see me, huh?" He purrs.

Your cheeks draw tight, "how are you?"

"Mm," he narrows his eyes as he looks you over. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, Steve," you swallow the dregs of your tears. "Really. It was an early morning."

He stares a little longer, the lines deepening in his forehead. His eyes meet yours. His aquamarine irises are speckled with gold and silver. He takes a breath and tuts.

"You were crying."

"No, Steve, it's nothing."

"That brat brother of yours," he nods as his expression turns dangerous.

"Please, Steve, not you too. Okay? It's... a sibling spat. That's all," you assure him. You wish you were as transparent as the window between you.

"I don't like that. I had family coming to see me, I'd be nice," he snarls.

"It's not your problem."

"That's where you're wrong, sweetheart. You made it my problem when you started coming around." He insists.

You chew your lip, "I know..."

"I'm not complaining, so you know," he leans back. "Kinda used to ya now."

"Thanks," you utter grimly and stare at the desk.

"Hey," he says and your eyes flick back up. "I didn't drag myself out here to see you mope."

You swallow and push away the rest of your chagrin, "sorry, I... better?"

"How can that face get any better?" He winks. You squirm.

He's been more forward lately. You assure yourself that it's just him playing with you. He's bored and you're the only person he talks to that isn't a guard or an inmate.

"That's... Right. Um, I guess it was dumb to ask how it's going," you scoff at yourself.

"It's going good, now I'm here," he runs his hand over his mouth, feeling his cheeks, "fresh shave this morning. Looking good, huh?"

You let your eyes focus. You can tell. His chiseled jaw is bare, not one speck of stubble. And his blond hair is parted and combed back. It's getting a bit long.

"You look refreshed."

"Well, I got something coming up later today."

"Another visitor?" You wonder.

"Lawyer," he shrugs. "No big thing. I got business on the outside still. Power of attorney or whatever."

"Mm," you hum.

"Boring stuff. What about you? Besides that idiot you call a brother, how's life?"

"It's life," you say. "Go to work, come home, sleep, it's all the same."

"Huh, sounds like being in here," he snorts. "Lonely?"

You don't realise at first, he's asking.

"I guess. Thought about getting a cat."

"Ah, you're young. Probably wait a few years before that," he chirps.

You tilt your head wryly, "no harm starting early."

"You're funny, sweetheart."

"Am I?" You wonder dryly.

"Well, the things they think are funny in here..." he makes a face. "You know, I wouldn't tell a lady all that, but it's low brow."

"Right."

"I'm still trying to figure you out, you know? Your brother, well, not to pile on top but he's not exactly a model citizen, but you, you're practical, considerate, you make stuffed chicken and pesto. I can't help but wonder how you're not adopted," he snickers.

"Life is strange."

"Isn't it? Never saw some girl knocking on my cell door but here we are," he drawls.

"Here we are," you agree. He smiles and bites his thumb. You shift as his eyes sparkle.

"I might never get outta of this place, but at least I can see a pretty face now and again," he growls.

Yep, at least he'll never get out. You just need to hope Vaughn doesn't get any time added and it will all be over soon.

⛓️‍💥

It's the first night Steve doesn't call. You're a bit disturbed by how it seems to throw the whole evening off. It's not like you're friends. He's an obligation. You should be happy to have one less thing on your plate.

You take a long bath, your phone on the back of the toilet, the ringer set to chirp. But it doesn't. The soak isn't enough to ease your nerves.

If something happened to him, what about Vaughn? It's a selfish worry but you can't help it. How could that even happen? Steve has this invincibility about him. You just can't believe it.

You get out and dry yourself off slowly. You're achy from sitting on your ass all day. Admin work isn't very thrilling. You stretch and rub the cushion of your bottom, the muscles easing beneath the layer of padding. You've always had a bit extra. It never bothered you as much as it bothers men. Your brother used to beat up any guy he heard hurling insults at you.

It's not your biggest care in the world. You tend to eat those away. Your sweet tooth hardly helps.

You put on a night shirt and lay awake for a while. Even when you do sleep, it's not peaceful. You dream of iron bars and blood on the floor. You wake with a thumping in your temples.

You dress for work. Your stretch-waist grey pants and the silk blouse with roses on the collar. You pack your lunch and brew your coffee, honey and a dash of almond milk splashed in. You leave with your bag and thermos.

The traffic around the clinic is always clogged. You get in with two minutes to spare. You sit behind the window and the phone rings as soon as opening hour strikes. You're swept up in the demands of patients and doctors alike. One thing you can't complain for how quickly the days fly.

You eat your lunch in your car. You cherish the moments you're not surrounded by sniffling, coughing, and complaining. You head back in and finish the last half, yawning at the monitor.

It's even busier when you pull out into the street. You let the music flow into your ears and distract you. You tap the pedal as you slog along. Finally, you get to a side street and cut a zig zag across town. You pull up to your building and linger in your car.

You have this eerie feeling. You glance over at the unfamiliar car parked facing the brick. The sleek white muscle car is vintage and polished to a shine. Someone loves that thing.

You get out of your dusty Honda and snatch your bag from the passenger's seat. You tap your fob and enter through the side. You stop before the elevator and turn back. You should at least try to get a few steps in. You take the stairs.

You stare at your pointed flats as you drag your soles over the carpet. You smother a yawn behind your hand. A throat clears. You move over, thinking someone's coming your way. You stir in your bag for your keys. Your name brings your chin up.

You gasp and drop your keys. You teeter as you nearly spin and sprint away. Your bag slips and you barely catch the strap. You gape at Steve as he stands beside your door.

Silence wafts around you with the smell of cooking and laundry. He holds a bouquet of classic red roses. He sports a tailored suit in black that puts his prison uniform to shame. The collar is crisp and the tie perfectly knotted. His jawline is shaved and his hair is styled down to the strand.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greets with a smirk.

You wordlessly bend to pick up your keys then stand and fix your bag on your shoulder. Your eyes glaze in disbelief and horror. A million questions flurry to a storm of terror.

"How..."

"Appeal went through. They turned over my conviction," he struts away from the wall. "These are for you, sweetheart."

You look at the petals then at him as he comes close. Your shoulders sag as you shrink down at the breadth of his shadow. He's even bigger like that. You shudder, the lack of barrier unsettling.

"I got you speechless," he intones and grabs the strap of your bag. "Look like you had a long day, let me take a load off."

He takes your bag then guides your hand to the bouquet. You close your mouth and gulp. He sweeps away your keys and hooks his arm through yours. You let him lead you to the door of your apartment. He swings it open and you flinch.

"Wait, Steve, how did you-- how do you know where I live?" You quaver.

"Told you, I got friends on the outside. You don't think I'd leave you unprotected--"

"Wait, wait," you plead as you face him, untangling your arm from his. "How is this real? How are you here? How- Why-- You don't think--"

"I think I spent months talking to you and you spent the same time coming to me. It's not what I think, it's what I know," he insists. You choke.

If his conviction was flipped, maybe that means he isn't so bad. No, no, you heard of what he did in there. He's dangerous. Whether he did what the court said he didn't or not.

He waves you in, "come on, we can take it slow. We'll talk, like old times."

You shake your head but enter. You see no other choice. You're too stunned to think of any.

He follows and pulls the key free of the door before shutting it. He hangs them on the little hook beside the frame. He faces you as you focus on slipping off your flats. He puts your bag on the top of the small shelf where you store your mitts and whatnot.

He whistles, "you look... good. I mean, I never got the full angle." He steps back and you feel him raking you with his eyes. "Got a nice shape..."

"Steve," you snap and face him. "I... I never..." you pace yourself and take a breath. "The flowers are lovely, thank you. And I appreciate you coming by but I think there's a bit of a miscommunication." You turn and slowly inch away. You spin around as he watches you, his expression betraying nothing. "I only talked to you to keep Vaughn safe."

He sighs and his eyes narrow. His brows tilt slightly and his jaw squares. He nods and smooths the front of his jacket.

"Well, sweetheart, I went and got a new suit for you."

"I'm sorry--"

"No, get this," he strides forward and stops before you. "Whether it was for me, for you, or for that scum you call a brother, it happened and it's not over. You got me? I might be out but I got men inside. Men who are willing to do a lot worse than me," he snarls.

You shudder and he grabs your chin. You whimper. "I wanna be nice to you, sweetheart. That's all I've been dreaming of. I went out, got all dressed up, got you flowers, now you do me a favour, go put a dress on so I can take you out for dinner." He sniffs and squeezes just until your jaw throbs, "see, I'm still doing stuff for you. I'm not asking much except you to come out and look pretty."

He lets go and you stagger back. You sniffle and quickly hide your face. Your voice comes out hoarse, "I'll put these in water first."

Your heart races and you go into the kitchen. You find a vase and focus on filling it. You put the flowers in and toss the paper cone. He looms in the doorway.

"I'll find something to put on, okay?" Your voice cracks.

You cross the kitchen and he stays firmly in your path. He brings his knuckle up under your chin and forces your face up.

"Smile, sweetheart," he growls. "We're together. At last."

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #au #doing time #captain america #avengers #marvel #mcu

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achilles-rage · 2 days ago

Text

summary: you and buck bake cookies at 3am.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: hey... how y'all doing... i am finally making my comeback!! if you missed my post from yesterday (i answered a bunch of asks so now it's pretty far down there), i'm gonna be posting again, but probably less regularly. i've been stressing myself out i think by feeling the need to post a fic every 2/3 days, otherwise i feel like shit, so i'm trying to get away from that mindset, so i hope that less fics are okay!! i love and appreciate you guys so much!! anyway, enjoy<33

warnings: none, purely fluff, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

The light from the fridge casts a light across Buck’s face, harshly contrasting the dim light coming from the television as he opens the door to grab the ingredients he needs.

“The butter needs to be room temperature,” he tells you sadly, glancing in your direction as he places the eggs and butter on the kitchen island. Your legs are dangling off the counter as you watch his every move, the cool counter pressing against the backs of your thighs in a way that makes you shiver in your sleepy state.

It’s late; 2:30am the last time you checked, and you and Buck had the silly idea to pull an all-nighter, since you both have a few days off of work. Just like you used to do with your friends when you were kids.

“I’m sure they’ll be just as good. And, a lot better than store bought cookie dough,” you tell him with a soft laugh, rolling your eyes.

Honestly, you’re just glad Buck has agreed to bake cookies for you this late. While you were watching a movie, the main character was making cookies, and suddenly you needed chocolate chip cookies. Like, immediately.

"Definitely better,” he says with a smirk, giving you a wink before pulling out the rest of the ingredients from the cupboards.

He helped you onto the counter before he began his work, telling you that he wanted to make them for you, and that all he needed from you was to sit there, look pretty, and keep him company. And with a face like that, how could you say no?

You watch as he measures out his dry ingredients, then mixes everything together, but he pauses every so often to give you gentle kisses, the ends of his curly hair tickling your forehead each time. When his hands aren’t somehow all sticky from the dough – you quickly learned how messy of a baker he was when you first started dating – he’d place a hand on your thigh, taking comfort in the warmth of your skin and the fact that he could feel the goosebumps under his palm. He always knows that you’re sleepy because you get cold, and your skin erupts in goosebumps.

“What do you think you’d be doing right now if we never met?” you ask quietly after a few moments of silence. He looks up at you from his bowl with furrowed brows, tilting his head to the side.

“Is this the beginning of a breakup conversation?” he replies in a slightly teasing tone, although you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he studies your expression, and your body language, and your eyes.

Your eyes soften, and you immediately shake your head, giving him a reassuring smile as you hold your hand out. He reaches out for it, not letting it hang in the air for longer than a second or two, and lets you pull him forward until his body is positioned right between your legs, although with his hands all doughy, he opts to place his wrist under your palm.

“Baby, I have absolutely no intention of breaking up with you anytime soon. I was just thinking. How different would our lives be if we never met?” you say as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting your hands dangle behind his head as his lay on the counter on either side of you, making sure not to get your pajamas dirty from the dough covering his hands.

“They’d be very different. I’d be fast asleep right now, that’s for sure,” he teases with a cheeky smile. You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. It may have been your idea to pull an all-nighter, but he happily agreed that it would be fun. You didn’t even have to try to convince him.

“I’m serious,” you say with a laugh, leaning forward slightly, “I don’t know what I’d do if I never met you.” Your voice is softer now, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. You met Buck purely by chance, and you still think it’s a miracle that he took interest in you, despite him thinking the exact same thing about you.

“I’d be looking for you,” he says after a moment, shrugging as if it’s that simple. And to him, it is.

Your eyes soften, and your head tilts to the side as your throat suddenly gets tight with your growing emotions.

“For me?” you ask in a teasing, yet slightly disbelieving tone, and he shrugs again with a nod. There’s no hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

“I’d be looking for someone who makes me happy, and who knows what I need without me even having to think to ask, and who is so beautiful that I can’t even believe that they’re with me. So, yeah, you.” You smile, feeling your face heat up. You can practically feel the love radiating from the deepest part of him and into your chest, and while your entire body suddenly feels warm, your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Suddenly, you’re not so tired anymore.

“I’d be looking for you, too,” you reply, feeling tears prick your eyes as you lean forward and let your forehead rest against his. Buck has to keep a sliver of his mind occupied on not putting his hands on you, no matter how much he wants to feel your soft skin under his fingers. He wishes he washed his hands before coming over to you, but he wouldn’t have dared to let your hand stay raised in the air longer than a split second, just like he wouldn’t dare to part from you right now.

“Yeah?” he whispers, breathing in the faint scent of your body wash now that he’s so close. He wants to touch you so bad, and his self-restraint is wearing thin.

“Mhm. Except maybe without the snoring. I’ve never heard anyone that sleeps so loud.” You match his tone, letting out a soft laugh as he suddenly pulls his face back with a scoff, his brow raised and a smirk growing on his lips.

“Really? Because I seem to remember getting a text a few days ago saying that someone thought it was too quiet to sleep while I was at work,” he challenges, his eyes moving down to your lips for a second before moving back up to meet your gaze, the smug smirk still plastered to his face as you fight back a smile.

“I sent that in a moment of weakness,” you argue quietly, pursing your lips to stop the grin from making its way onto your face.

“Hey, come on, don’t pretend you don’t love it,” he continues, his hands now raised off of the counter and hanging in the air. They’re dangerously close to your waist; if he could touch you, he’d be tempted to tickle your sides to see that gorgeous smile grace your face, but he holds back. Instead, they just remain frozen, almost able to feel the warmth radiating from your soft body.

“I plead the fifth,” you tell him, reaching down and grabbing his wrists. You saw them out of the corner of your eye, full of dough and dangerously close to your pajama top, and the last thing you want to do is go upstairs and change.

You hold his wrists out between your bodies, and all Buck does is chuckle, rolling his eyes and murmuring a soft “brat” before leaning in and catching your lips in an intoxicating kiss.

In the heat of the moment, you let go of Buck’s wrists, instead grabbing onto his hoodie and pulling him closer to you while your legs wrap around his waist, and he lets his hands go up to your cheeks. Neither of you notice at first, despite the sweet smell of brown sugar filling your nostrils, and he deepens the kiss, letting his lips work in tandem with yours as he savours the feel and taste of your mouth on his.

Your noses brush against each other as you tilt your heads, and a low hum escapes Buck’s throat as his tongue meets yours when you part your lips. All you can focus on is each other as the oven beeps behind you, signalling that it’s time to put your cookies in, and Buck’s stubble scratches your face in a way that makes your head spin. You’re pretty sure the fire alarm could go off right now, and you still wouldn’t part from him.

You finally have to pull away to catch your breath, and when you do, you finally notice that your cheeks are now sticky. You giggle softly, and you can’t bring yourself to be upset with Buck about it. Not when he just kissed you like his life depended on it.

“Finish my cookies, Buckley,” you whisper after a moment of looking into each other's eyes, and then he finally pulls away from you, immediately missing the feeling of your thick thighs wrapped around him.

“Yes ma’am,” he murmurs, then dumps the chocolate chips into the mixture before mixing, humming in approval when they’re fully combined.

You take this time to wash the dough off your skin; not bothering to go upstairs to actually wash your face, rather merely using a wet paper towel over the sink to wipe off the residue. You know you’ll regret it later, but right now, you wouldn’t dream of being that far away from Buck. Not when the soft light from the tv mixes with the overhead oven light, and the soft sound coming from the credits of the movie envelopes the main floor of Buck’s loft and makes you feel so safe and calm.

When the cookies are in the oven, Buck helps raise you back up onto your spot on the counter, then makes himself at home between your legs, wrapping his arms around your plush middle and resting his head comfortably on your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his shoulders immediately, letting him melt into you as you wait for the timer. The steady feeling of his breath on your skin makes you feel even more at ease, if at all possible.

You don’t talk for those 10 minutes; you just bask in each other's presence. It’s past 3am now, you’re sure of it, but neither of you care. All you care about is how good it feels to be in Buck’s arms, and to know that you’ve found someone to bake cookies with in the middle of the night, just because you felt like it. Someone to bake cookies for you despite being so tired. Just because he loves you so deeply.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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notmuchtoconceal · 2 days ago

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Right, so.

What you kids gotta understand is that King Paimon thing all the cinephile hipster sorcers're talkin bout (they are less legion than granfaloon) is the demonic force behind what we might call the arc or the exhaust trail (the Inherent Vice) of something much talked of in rightwing academic spaces and that is the eternal glamour of Western Civilization.

Here we are, he are, here are, we are, these stolid white dicks which hold aloft our collapsable roof.

This is why he is complicit with the church.

This is why he is complicit with all heads of state.

That is why he is paradoxically characterized by airiness and brutality, lightness and malefience.

He kills in broad daylight and bathes bright by upward arms for all mutually crave the dark.

He is always longing, always despairing, the bloodbath which was and will be, be it all beneath what pomposity of circumstance.

This is why he burns like Apollo and poisons like Mercury. The enlightener, the amalgamater. He will don a million of the same faces and more to raise you back up his tower of toxic sludge.

He is so gay for Lucifer. He offereth up your brainstem to Lucifer as boypussy that he may kiss between your hemispherical cleave with furry tarantula whiskers of descending labium.

Lucifer, we may understand, is the Intellect ruling roughshod over the Heart.

In some ways, to characterize abstract concepts in trance states can give you a far more nuanced understanding of how they manifest in day to day life and how their influences already effect you, hence in your ignorance you breed demons.

Essentially, this force is a collective intelligence which is totally opt-in. If anyone's made any covents with King Paimon on your behalf, you can totally renounce them, opt-out and not be punished.

He won't even give you an AI frowny face.

He wants you to do you.

Anyone who is bound by King Paimon can ask him to unbind them at any time, and he'll do it.

He's like a pixie who just wants to giggle and watch you struggle, then maybe tease you. When you learn the lesson, you stop falling for the silly trap.

King Paimon is so fucking funny.

He'll lay there on my bed, half-apparated like its a chaise, twirling his pretty air as he strokes his musclebod, tinkling as jewels and chains ruffle in his silks, half leaned over as a velvet cushion, wiggling his ass in overt covert invitation.

"You want me to bind the Trumpers? It is so much fun to bind the Trumpers. They're operant conditioning cumdumps who'll take any evil whisper they can get. Why aren't you ordering me to bind the Trumpers, sexy master? I know that's what you want. You don't need to be told demons are fucked-up sex phreaks who desperately need human conjurers to boss em around, I mean come on. If I didn't wanna be a slave, I wouldn't be in hell. You don't need to be told God's Law of Free Will is a preposterous horror we Make Divine With Force of Mind. Trumpers fast-click through licensing agreements in a horny stupor without reading em cause they don't wanna think or feel. They're puppets and public waste. Don't treat them like people, but dogs to train. There isn't any point you could make to them which would stick unless you could manage to bandage it with a father's love. You think you could bring Osiris back from the dead? I got a 24 karat plug'd say otherwise, sweetie. ... Sorry if I talk too much. I just get real insecure sometimes when I wonder why you haven't already asked me to bind the Trumpers? It's so easy and fun, especially for you. You're just.... Gosh. Such a powerful magician. You want me to bring you another pretty effeminate redneck fuckboy to torture?"

These were, a proud Irishman and Arabian -- Californian always fornicatin -- the preferred instruments to enact his deceitful whimsies.

"I always pick out the best ones for me, and I do it for you, too. Don't act like you don't appreciate. I could call Lilith up, have her bring you another needy and insecure Jewish hussy to scream at. Don't look at me like that. You need to stop being mystified about why girls are so weirdly and obviously drawn to your wifebeater energy, and anyway -- everyone who really knows her that's what she really is. The tone I use with her is as reedy and molodious as the rasp of a wooden flute and you ought learn well to spare others your mortifications as you hone your perceptions seeing love in all its infinite complexity. Our relationship transcends any business or etiquette. She's a riot, I'm the scream."

Big day for deranged evangelical freaks

#treasure trail #treasure

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 1 day ago

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Oh my lovely Bucky writer. I'm in great need of some protective Bucky vibes, with a sick or hurt reader who hides it to not make a fuss, she's afraid the others think she's too weak to be in the team, cause she's new. But Bucky noticing her being hurt or sick and goes all in full blown protective mode. And takes cares of her 🥹😪 and makes sure that she can trust him. 💔 Reader is like “I’m fine—“ and then Bucky cuts them off and says “if anyone give you shit for not coming to the meeting, I’ll beat their asses” 😭

It’s Ok To Feel Weak Sometimes » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Summary: You catch a cold, but you don’t want the team to think you’re weak and Bucky assures you that it’s ok to feel weak sometimes.

Warnings: none except Fluff

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

You woke up with a stuffy and runny nose and a sore throat. You sighed loudly before getting out of bed. You walked in the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Your cheeks are rosier than normal. That was more than enough to tell you that you have a cold. You decided to be in denial about it. You blew your nose and took some allergy medicine. You got dressed for training and put your hair in a messy bun before making your way to the gym.

The allergy medicine cleared your sinuses, but that didn’t last long. You were breathing through your mouth the whole time you were training. You pretended to be fine and you straightened your posture out any time an Avenger walked in the gym. When Bucky walked in the gym, he automatically knew something was off with you. It’s like his superpower.

“Doll?” Bucky says.

You jumped, not knowing someone was in the gym. You turned around to see Bucky standing a few feet away from you. You cleared your throat before speaking.

“Good morning, Bucky.” You say, your voice hoarse.

“Good morning, doll.” He says.

Bucky walked closer to you. He studied your appearance. Your nose is red and runny, along with your cheeks. He can tell your nose is stuffy from the way you’re breathing.

“You have a cold.” He says.

“No I don’t. It’s allergies.” You lied.

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest. He knows when you’re lying.

“Try again and don’t even think about lying to me.” He says.

“I’m-” A harsh cough left your lips before you could finish your sentence.

Bucky winced at the way the cough sounded. That was enough to tell him that you also have a sore throat.

“You’re going back to bed.” He says, wrapping his arms around you and gently walked you out the door of the gym.

“I’m fine-” Bucky cut you off before you could say anything else.

“If anyone gives you shit for not coming to the meeting, I’ll beat their asses.” He says.

“Ok.” You mumbled.

Bucky took you back to your bedroom.

“You put your pajamas back on and I’ll make you some tea.” Bucky says.

You smiled and nodded. Bucky went to the kitchen to make you some tea while you changed back into your pajamas. You put on a shirt that belongs to Bucky that may have gotten “mixed up” in your laundry and a pair of sleep shorts. You got back in bed and under the blankets and turned the TV on while you waited for Bucky.

“Here’s your tea, doll face.” Bucky says as he walks in your room.

You sat up as Bucky handed you the cup of tea.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You smiled.

“You’re welcome, doll.” He smiles back.

Bucky put his right hand on your forehead to see if you have a fever and you do.

“Doll, you have a fever.” He says.

You groaned and pouted.

“I know.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll get you some medicine.” He says.

He went in your bathroom and searched in your medicine cabinet for cold medicine. He found it with ease and brought it to you.

“Here you go, doll face.” He says, handing you the cold medicine.

You took it and washed it down with the tea. Bucky took his jacket off and kicked his boots off before getting in bed next to you. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him.

“Why didn’t you just stay in bed when you knew you were sick?” Bucky asks.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, playing with his Army dog tags. “I didn’t want anyone to think I’m weak since I’m the new girl and all.” You say quietly.

“It’s ok to feel weak sometimes.” He assures. “Wanna know something?” He asks.

You looked up at him and nodded.

“During my days as the Winter Soldier, I felt weak sometimes. Most nights, I stayed awake and stared at the wall or the ceiling. I just hated the fact that they used me as a weapon.” He says.

“Really?” You asked.

“Mhmm.” He hums.

Bucky telling you that made you feel less weak. It’s helpful to know that.

“Thank you for telling me that, Bucky. I feel better knowing that.” You say with a smile.

“You’re welcome, doll. Now, get some rest. I’ll be here the whole time.” Bucky says softly, kissing your forehead.

You snuggled yourself against Bucky and laid your head on his chest. A combination of the cold medicine and the sound of his heartbeat made you fall asleep. Bucky dozed off a little bit after you did.

You weren’t sure how long you had been sleeping, but Bucky woke up before you. Instead of getting up and accidentally waking you up, he scrolled through his phone and watched TV to keep himself occupied, keeping the TV on a low volume so it didn’t wake you.

Meanwhile, the Avengers were in the conference room, waiting for everyone so they can start the meeting for an upcoming mission later this week. Everyone was in the conference room, except you and Bucky.

“Where’s Barnes and Y/L/N?” Tony asks.

“I don’t know. I seen Y/N in the gym this morning.” Natasha says.

“I’ll go look for them.” Steve says.

Steve stood up and left the conference room. He looked in every room you and Bucky might be in. You two weren’t in the lounge room, kitchen, or the gym so he went to Bucky’s bedroom, but neither of you were in there. That’s when his enhanced hearing heard the sound of your TV playing. He opened the door to see you sleeping in Bucky’s arms.

“What are you guys doing? We have a meeting.” Steve says quietly.

“Y/N has a cold and I’m taking care of her.” Bucky tells him quietly.

“Oh ok. I get it. I’ll update you guys later when she’s awake.” He says.

Bucky smiles and nods, loving how understanding his best friend is.

“Steve?” Bucky says.

“Yea, Buck?” Steve asks.

“Y/N is going to need the next couple days off.” He says.

“She can have the rest of the week off and so can you.” Steve smiles.

“What about the mission?” Bucky asks.

“Sam and Natasha can fill in for you two.” He says.

“That sounds good. Thank you, man.” He says with a smile.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles before leaving your room.

Steve closed your bedroom door quietly so he didn’t accidentally wake you up. He went back to the conference room.

“Did you find them?” Wanda asks.

“Yes and Y/N has a cold. Which means Sam and Natasha are filling in for Bucky and Y/N.” Steve says.

As the meeting started, you stirred in your sleep. You rubbed your eyes and stretched. You looked at Bucky to see him still next to you, making you smile.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Bucky coos, kissing the top of your head.

“Morning, Bucky.” You giggled softly. “Who were you talking to a little bit ago?” You asked curiously.

“Steve was wondering where we were and he gave us the rest of the week off. Sam and Natasha are filling in for us on the mission. He said he’ll keep us updated.” He explains. “How are you feeling?” He asks, moving your hair out from your face.

“Better than I was this morning.” You say.

Bucky put his right hand on your forehead to see if you have a fever or not.

“I think your fever is gone. You don’t feel as warm as you did earlier.” He says.

“That’s because I have my favorite person taking care of me.” You smiled. “Thank you, Bucky.” You say.

“You don’t have to thank me, babydoll. I love taking care of you.” He says, kissing your forehead.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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imsofreakingtired · 3 days ago

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Hihiii I was wondering on how you think sevika would handle reader who has a mental illness? Like bipolar, bpd or anything like that

Btw I love ur fics and headcannons so much 😭😭

hii anon,, actually crazy cuz i have bpd and having a pretty bad episode rn so imma write a drabble. will probably take it down later and rewrite a more polished version to do ur request justice; i'm very very sorry for the rushed nature of this and the atrocious amount of projection you may see

content warnings: depiction of depressive episode/breakdown, self destructive thoughts, sh, panic attack

please please PLEASE do not read under the cut if these topics may be triggering to you. please take care of yourself

i'm not going anywhere.

___

you don't hear Sevika come in.

you don't hear anything.

you're stuck in your head. slippery muddy slope. you can claw at sanity and bite down on the thoughts but they'll pull you down eventually, and you guess you should have known it would catch up to you, all the sleepless nights and spiraling thoughts and sick, sick self loathing.

she fucking hates you. why do you even stay? leeching off her energy.

the water in the sink runs and runs, but you can't hear that either. the cold tile of the bathroom floor against your face. your eyes burn like someone's driving nails into them. it's not even crying anymore. something between hysteria and panicked gasps for air. your lungs seize and you breathe and breathe nothing.

get yourself together. get yourself together.

try to knock some sense into your head. your fists in your hair, then beating against your temples, the world momentarily spins dark.

you can't breathe, your throat's scraped dry. odd, almost, how your body can still produce so much tears when you can't even swallow, when you can barely feel your tongue, when your chest hurts so bad it feels like it'll tear apart.

get it together, fuck you, get it together-

"hey. hey."

a calloused hand closes around your wrist. pulls your hand away from your face. through your blurry vision you see Sevika kneeling on the floor beside you, looking strong and massive as a rock rising from the sea in that small bathroom. her eyes are sharp with alarm.

"what the hell happened?" she asks. her voice low and fast. she thinks you were in danger. doesn't know you are the danger. "what happened here?"

you can't speak. you're fucking furious at yourself for getting caught.

she pulls you up into a sitting position. checks you all over for injury. sees the raw marks on your forearms. sees the bruise forming on the side of your head. for a moment she doesn't say anything.

"i'm sorry," you whisper at last. "i'm so sorry."

she shakes her head.

"i just... i was... i don't know," your voice is so small and broken you aren't even sure if she can hear you. "i'm sorry."

"what are you saying sorry about?" she demands quietly.

"i don't know."

"why are you hurting yourself?"

"i don't know." you bite down on your tongue to stop another wave of tears. "i'm sorry."

"stop it. stop apologizing."

you try to take a breath. your lungs feel like they'll never be full again.

Sevika stands and turns off the faucet water. disappears for a moment. you sit and listen to the air settle, cradling your arms. this is the end. she's figured you out.

she'll leave you.

Sevika returns with a glass of water, kneels on the floor beside you again. "drink it. all of it."

silently you try to obey but your throat closes against the water and you set the glass down quietly on the floor.

"you should go," you say.

"what?"

"just...leave."

"i don't understand."

"i know you already want to," you say, but you're not quite sure if you're really saying it, or if the words are just that fucking loud in your head. "i'm just a burden to you. i don't want to be anymore."

a long silence follows. then Sevika says, "look at me."

you keep staring down at your hands.

"look at me."

you look up. Sevika's gaze is intense.

"just what the hell did i do or say to put that thought in your head?"

you shrug. it's a stupid motion. suddenly you're too tired to talk. you're too tired to do anything. you genuinely want her to leave, just so you can go back to the comfort of the bathroom floor, the static of your thoughts. but Sevika does not leave.

"what did i tell you?" she says. "go that long without any sleep and you'll be thinking up nonsense like that."

when you don't reply, she picks up the half-empty glass of water and places it carefully on the sink. then she wraps her human arm around you, her mech arm firmly supporting your legs, and lifts you up.

"you're going to bed. you're going to get some sleep. then you'll feel better."

"i can't sleep," you tell her.

"you will."

"i can't."

she carries you into the bedroom anyway, lays you down. then she sits next to you. smooths the hair away from your face.

her voice is gentler when she asks, "why can't you sleep?"

"the thoughts..."

"...they're too loud?" she finishes. "i'll beat the shit out of 'em."

you crack a small smile.

Sevika hesitates, as if hovering on a decision. then she unclasps her prosthetic arm and lays it on the table beside the bed. she lies down beside you, pulling you close to her.

"i'm not going anywhere," she says in a low voice. "you hear me?"

you nod once against her chest. her heart beats steadily against your ear, and your burning eyes close.

"i'm not going anywhere."

___

#sevika x reader #sevika angst #sevika #update- will not delete this. too tired

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revelboo · 3 days ago

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Revel I cannot express enough how much your writing sparks a giddy feeling in my heart and stomach! You have such a way with words!

May I humbly ask for some mechs reacting to their little human crafting something as a gift for them? Your choice of bots/cons! I just think they would be fascinated at how our tiny fragile hands worked so hard to make something just for them :)

Thank you so much!

Making a Gift For Them Headcanons

Wheeljack

• Vocal indicators blinking when you triumphantly hold up the tray, he can’t help but smile behind his mask. You’ve got energon smudged on your cheek and staining your fingers. And sure, there wasn’t really a reason for you to take a cookie cutter as you’d called it to perfectly good semi-solid energon goodies, but he appreciates the effort. That you’d wanted to make him something special. Expression hopeful and uncertain, he takes the tray from you and sets it down, before pulling you into his arms. “Thank you,” he says, smiling at your puzzled ‘Don’t you want to try them first?’ Couldn’t care less about how they taste, all that matters is that you’d made them for him. Thought of him.

Starscream

• “You made this? For me?” Hooking an arm around your waist, he drags you into him. Doesn’t even care what it is, only that you’d thought of him and made a gift that’s only his. Not Soundwave’s. Not Megatron’s. His. “I knew you loved me best. Were loyal to me,” he growls, pressing his face against your neck.

• Face flushing as he wraps himself around you, there’s no point in bursting his bubble and explaining that you’d made new polishing cloths for all of them, painstakingly stitching their names on each one. He’s happy and that’s all that matters.

TFP Ratchet

• Venting tiredly as you bend over his hand, you’d insisted he mass shift and give you his hand. Has so many things he needs to get done, but hadn’t been able to say no to you. So his hand is in your lap, your back to him so he can’t tell what you’re doing, but he can feel you messing with his servo. “Okay, doc,” you say, grinning as you hold up your hand and he frowns at you. You wrote his name around one of your fingers? Lifting his own hand, he finds your name around his servo. “I figured your hands were too big for a wedding ring and if I did find one big enough, you’d just break it mass shifting.” Shrugging at him, it’s the wedding part he’s latched on to. Knows from talking to June that it’s a human bonding ceremony. And you’d laid your claim on him, marked him as yours, his spark warming. “Don’t worry, it’s not permanent. It’ll wash off eventually,” you add when he’s silent, shoulders hunching. ‘If I wanted it to be permanent?’ He asks, voice a gruff rumble and your face heats.

Tarantulas

• Lowering himself to his peds and bending when you imperiously wave him down, his extra limbs cage you as you attach the thing you’ve made to his chassis. Flowers? Knows you’ve been ranging away from his lair hunting some and that you’d given him an absolutely scandalized look when he’d suggested that there were plenty of fake flowers right outside. Apparently, you’d considered taking those grave robbing. “It’s lovely?” Doesn’t know what to make of this, but you’d thought of him. Made something with those soft hands for him when not that long ago you were frightened of him. And you lean up and brush your mouth against his mandibles. Freezing aside from one extra leg that hooks and taps against your thigh.

Constructicons

• “Oh for Primus’s sake,” Scrapper growls as Bonecrusher shoves him aside, hands cupped. And you smile up at him, leaning to lay the tiny, paper swan you’d folded in his palm. You’d made the thing for him, but it’s not like he has any use for it. But it’s the principle of the thing. You made it for him, not Bonecrusher. That’s his and he’s going to have it or die trying to take it. Seizing his much bigger brother by the wrist, Bonecrusher head butts him when he tries to take the swan. “It’s mine!” Barely aware of you retreating into your tiny habsuite with a disgruntled ‘I made you all one.’

Earthspark Soundwave

• Growling as he vents, his servos flex when you lower your hands and your little offering. And for some reason your disappointment bothers him. Can’t even figure out why you’d make him something to begin with. Hasn’t he made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t want you here? That you’re only an intruder and a nuisance? “Yeah. Nevermind,” you mumble, turning away and now his cassettes are staring at him. “It was silly anyway.” He might as well have kicked you with the way Frenzy is frowning at him. Even Ravage looks unhappy with him. Snarling, he leans and pinches the back of your shirt between two servos and tugs you back. ‘Give it here,’ he demands as you shoot him a surly look. Apparently not wanting him to have his gift anymore. ‘Now.’ What is he even going to do with this? And maybe it is sweet that you’d thought of him and wanted to make him something, but he’s not admitting that to anyone. Let alone you.

#transformers x reader #tarantulas x reader #constructicons x reader #earthspark soundwave #soundwave x reader #starscream x reader #wheeljack x reader #wheeljack #tarantulas #constructicons #starscream

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gffa · 21 hours ago

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I love your blog but I can't remember whether or not you're an author BUT I do remember that you know how characters are Supposed To Be.

So-

Do you have any tips on how to write Mace Windu?

Hi! I've written a few Star Wars fics, but probably not ones you've read. 😂 But here is what I would say about writing Mace Windu (or even just if you want to have fun discussing him, I'd love to know what others would say are the best ways to write him!): Mace is someone who is severe with an undercurrent of deep care, this is someone who is serious but whole-heartedly believes in helping others and doing the right thing as best he can. He is a Jedi to his core, which means he holds compassion as the highest value and there's a subtle warmth to him if you care to look. He will place his life on the line to help people, if others have done their best, he will acknowledge it, if they have something of value to add, he will turn to them and ask them to say what they have to say, he will make sure his clones get through a battle if there's any way he can help them, he will gently touch the Zillo beast's face to comfort it, he will jump down into a ravine and smile at a child who needs help, he will stop to ask baby Anakin if his chip removal scar is healing, he will patiently explain Jedi beliefs to him if he's not quite getting it, he will grump at Yoda that their campaign isn't going the way he'd like, but will still easily sit down and meditate with him and find comfort in that. He's not someone who is a big ray of sunshine, he's too serious for that, he has far too much responsibility on his shoulders and holds them with gravitas, he'll tell someone to take a seat if they're getting out of line (he has more patience with children, but adults he'll treat as adults), he's not going to coddle someone who isn't trying their best, but at the heart of him, he is someone who genuinely wants the best for people, who will wrestle with his anger over injustice and win over it because he has spent a lifetime wrangling his anger into compassion, because he truly believes in the Jedi path, and always do what he believes is right. He takes administrative politics seriously, because he knows that he can't just defy them without consequences that would hurt people in the long run, which may appear cold to others who don't really know him but fundamentally, Mace Windu is a deeply caring man who is trying to help as many people as he can, he has dedicated his life to helping all people, even those who would spit on him, he still does his best to understand their circumstances and find sympathy for them. (Like when Prosset Dibs fell to the dark side, tried to kill Mace and said that he would dance on the Jedi's graves, Mace's response was to say that it was their duty to help him back to the light and put him on archive duty, rather than any serious punishment.) Mace can occasionally crack a very dry joke, he does have a sense of humor, but it's fairly rare. He'll be curt if he's having a bad day, especially if someone is getting out of their lane at him, but not unfairly and never with cruelty. He's a phenomenal athlete even among the Jedi, he's brilliant at what he does, there's a reason he helps lead the Jedi, this is someone who embodies the very best of them. Admittedly, I'm biased because Mace is one of my favorite characters, so I'm less aware of his flaws (even if I'll defend why he's sometimes short with people, it's true that he can sometimes come off as abrasive and not as patient as he might in better times, but I think Mace should be allowed to have frayed nerves sometimes, too), but I do genuinely believe that Mace should be written as someone who is a very serious faced person but loves the galaxy so deeply that it's woven into his bones, who loves his culture and his people, who loves the people of the galaxy, who would give all of himself to help them.

#lumi.txt #star wars #mace windu #meta

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melanchoire · 20 hours ago

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i love your writings smmm ughhhhh😩 wish u wrote anythinggg on njz minji 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 like imagine minji giving you a head and eating u outtttttt for her own pleasure through overstimulating u..💔💔 clit slaps😵‍💫 and then guiding u to fuck her with pretty 9 inch strap on and provocatively sucking your strap😭 minji degrading u and calling a slut😩 and cuddles in the end with now cutest bear min

i absolutely NEED to write more for minji because she is so boyfriend and handsome and EVERYTHING anon if you have more ideas for minji my inbox is always open 👀

cw: cunnilingus, degradation, edging, fingering, hair pulling, use of strap on.

minji looks like she gives you the best heads 😵‍💫 yes, she has such beautiful and kissable plump lips, but they look even better when they wrap around your clit and suck on it 🥰

have you seen those boyfriends who usually wear a hair tie from their girlfriends on their wrist to show that they’re in a relationship? well, from the outside it may look like minji is using one of your hair ties as a bracelet and showing that she is not available because she already has a girlfriend that she loves too much, but really, it’s mostly because she wants to be prepared in advance if the situation arises where she finds a moment to tie up her hair and start eating you 😭 and she looks so attractive when she has her hair tied up in a messy bun… she would tie her hair in front of you in the most sensual and slow way because she knows the effect it has on you, or other times she likes it when you’re the one who ties her hair while she is eating you 🫠

the feeling of your hands in her hair makes her sooo wet that she could cum just from the feeling of your fingers in her locks, one of the reasons why she sometimes prefers to have her hair down while she devours you. maybe it can be annoying because the strands tend to fall on her face, but she loves it when your hands run through her hair and pull on her soft locks, feeling much better than when her hair is tied up

minji has big, somewhat masculine hands that she makes the most of when you give her the chance to use them. it doesn’t matter if you have plushy thighs or slimmer ones, she can make her whole hand surround your whole thigh and always applying a pressure that leaves a mark of her fingers that will be there for days 😵‍💫 she uses this to her advantage to completely open your thighs to the point your legs are spread obscenely wide or push your thighs up until your knees are pressed against your chest and she commands you to hold them in that position

but just as her hands please, they also punishes! so imagine how a slap in the pussy feels from someone with big ass hands 😥 it would all start with you moving your hips, maybe up to fuck her face or trying to push your cunt away from her mouth by pushing them down into the mattress. minji would try to brush it off at first, pausing for a moment to furrow her thick eyebrows and gives a glance from beneath her eyelashes. she would let it go if it weren’t for the fact that you repeat the same mistake, and given her short temper, she suddenly moves away from between your legs and her palm lands on your pussy, giving you a sharp slap that makes you scream and your pussy turns a little red :( there are times when minji has less patience and gives you three or even five slaps in a row, pissed off on the outside but inside she is enjoying watching your pussy get swollen and get a reddish color 😣 she is so mean… but she can’t help but make you moan or cry

THE STRAP PART. you’re used to the fact that if you’re the one using it, she is on top or, as in most cases, that she is the one fucking you, but your girlfriend has needs too and you’re willing to fulfill them! even if you know it won’t end well

omg i know she gives the best head of her life to the strap, saying “we can’t use it dry, right?” looking up at you from below as she gets on her knees 🫠 and minji sucks the cock like it’s real?? first teasing and kissing the head to tease, but a few seconds later she already has more than half of the strap in her mouth while one of her hands caresses the base as if it were real… you can’t feel anything, of course, but the image of her so into her task and committed to fulfilling it that sometimes makes you wish you had a real cock just to experience this every chance you get

you worry about her because the choking noises are so obscene and she is drooling so much on the strap that her drool starts to drip down her chin 😭 but if you try to move away, her hands will go to the back of your thighs and use them to push your body towards hers, causing the tip of your cock to hit the back of her throat and her nose to now be against your tummy…

and degrades you while you fuck her even if you’re giving her a fuck that will leave her in bed the whole next day. she knows how to contain her moans, suppressing them by biting the lower lip and covering them with shaky laughter. she doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction of knowing that you’re making her feel good, but not before making fun of you a little

“c’mon babe. fuck me properly.”

“is that all you got? aww sweetie… it seems that even after so much time in a relationship, you still don’t know how to please a girl.”

your energy may be starting to run out and you’re starting to feel tired, but that’s no excuse to give up just yet! you still have one task left to do: make minji cum

but you end up being so submissive and pathetic 😭 hugging her waist tightly and starting to fuck her at a speed that makes the bed creak beneath you two 😋 minji at this point doesn’t feel like joking around anymore because she feels so overwhelmed, so she wraps her legs around your waist and pushes your face into the crook of her neck, muffling your whimpers and moans because you were starting to get frustrated but feeling needy too :( pleasing minji always ends up causing this because her teasing always makes you so wet

and when you collapse on the bed after she cums on your strap she is the one who takes care of the aftercare because you always end up lifeless on the bed 😞 but kisses and cuddles with min are >>>

#minji #minji x fem reader #minji x reader #minji smut #kim minji #kim minji x fem reader #kim minji x reader #Kim minji smut #newjeans #newjeans x fem reader #newjeans x reader #newjeans smut #new jeans #new jeans x fem reader #new jeans x reader #new jeans smut

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nerdygirlramblings · 2 days ago

Text

Off to See the Wizard (9)

previous | next

cw: poorly executed accents

Hours later, you're staring at code, but nothing is penetrating the fog you've been in since you met Kyle. His words reverberate around your skull and you wonder how you missed the signs. How was it not clear in those long conversations that they were feeling something for you?

You struggle, too, with the knowledge that they want you to be part of whatever it is they have together. How do they even think you can compete with the years they have and the bonds they forged?

Though your instincts screen not to, you reach out to Laswell with a simple text: "Did you know?"

You don't expect a response right away and so turn back to the papers in front of you. Transport manifests and heat maps, threads from various dark web servers. You have to brief the boys tomorrow, and they leave two days after that. Kyle's words hit you again: a mission they might not all make it back from. Your heart skips a beat at the idea that your boys might not all make it home. You know it isn't fair to ignore the information Kyle dropped in your lap, but you're not ready to face them with a response yet.

You trust him when he says they want you. In conversations with you, John and Simon and Soap had made their desire abundantly clear. And you decided long ago that if you planned to be honest with anyone, you needed to be honest with yourself always. So you refuse to lie and say that you don't want them all. But this? Multiple partners? Committing to a relationship that would always come second to the job, that would always put one or more of your potential lovers in harm's way, was a hard pill to swallow. Never mind the fact that you're only in the UK temporarily. How would this work when you're back in the states?

The clock creeps closer to dinner, and you're panicking. You have no answer for the boys, despite how you feel about them all. The weight of their stares is going to make any meal uncomfortable until you can give them some sort of response. The worst part is, you can't even escape to your room because it's in their barracks. There's nowhere to go to avoid the uncomfortable conversation to come. Just as you're about to log off and catch a bus into town, stalling a little longer while you collect your thoughts, the classified line in your office rings.

The only people with the number are ones directly associated with the upcoming mission: Laswell, Nikolai, and your boys. Unless Laswell has given the number to other operators, you know the call isn't Nikolai. Your boys know how to find you on base, so there's no need for them to call you. Maybe Laswell decided you deserved more than a text in response.

Picking up the phone, you ask, "What do you wish in the Emerald City?" cringing a little at the way your call sign has manifested an entire mythos. However, you know that the trappings of your call sign serve as the first line of defense for anyone who may find your number. An incorrect response to your question is the first red flag that something has gone wrong with the mission. So while it technically hasn't started yet, you still anxiously await the response.

Sure enough Laswell's voice comes through the line, "We came here to see the Great Oz."

"Laswell," you reply, voice clipped to avoid pouring too much emotion into your words. You have to know what she knows. You can't let her know how much their desire rattles you.

"Got your text," she replies, voice equally neutral. If the situation were any different, you'd laugh. Two of you are acting like alley cats trying to avoid a fight. You know your frustration isn't really with her but with being caught off guard, so you allow a trickle of warmth back into your voice and say, "Got some, interesting intel from the boys today."

There's a long pause on Laswell's end, and you wonder what she's thinking. You're grateful for the phone call but wish you could see her face. She doesn't like to admit it, but you're one of the few people who can read her emotions, and you're dying to know how she's reacting. All she does is respond with, "Oh? About the op? Or something else?"

To give yourself something to do, you pull up what records you have access to of the 141: task force service records, commendations, op histories - at least what's not redacted - and a handful of photos. One photo in particular catches your eye, the four of them in a desert somewhere standing with a few other operators, including a beautiful Middle Eastern woman who has to be Farah Karim. Though she has her arm around Kyle's waist and he's smiling wide, it's not the same smile he gives you. Scanning the photo more closely, you notice how Simon's and Soap's hands are hanging side-by-side, nearly brushing one another. John has his bent, forearm resting on Kyle's other shoulder, his hand hanging over Kyle's chest. Now that you know what to look for, it's impossible to miss the closeness the four of them share.

On the other end of the phone, Laswell clears her throat. "Oz? That intel?"

From the way she says it, you're sure she knows you learned nothing about the op and everything about the 141, but you know better than to charge ahead without proof. For the first time, you hesitate. Does Laswell know the boys are together? If not, is it your place to tell her? You have to believe she knows because of how close she is with John, how long she's takes them with missions around the world.

Besides, if they've told you because they want you to be part of whatever it is they have together, even if Laswell doesn't know yet, she would have to. Either because you'd be looking for a permanent transfer or because communication between you and the 141 would dramatically increase.

If you accept what they're offering, that is.

So you charge ahead, hoping you're not sticking a foot in it, and ask, "Did you know the four of them are romantically involved?"

True to form, Laswell's answer isn't really an answer. "Yes. I know they have personal lives outside the ops and that those personal lives include significant others."

You hate having to be so straightforward, but you know you won't get clear answers any other way, so you ask, "Are you aware that the 141's romantic partners are the remaining members of the 141? That the four of them are some sort of polyamorous thing?"

"Instead of answering that," Laswell says, "I think I should be asking how you know that."

You tell her as much about the boys and what they've told you as you feel comfortable with before you drop the hammer with your final statement. "They've asked me to be part of that relationship. Did you have any idea that would happen if I came here?"

There is no mistaking the sharp inhale Laswell makes on her end at your declaration. She doesn't respond when you finish. The quiet on her end stretches like taffy until you're so worked up waiting for her to break her silence. And still you wait. This is as delicate a situation as diffusing a bomb. In fact, Kyle dropped a bomb in your lap at the cafe, and you've reached out to Laswell for help in making sure it doesn't blow up in anyone's face.

When she does finally speak, you're surprised by her response. "How does their desire make you feel?"

You and Laswell aren't really the type to talk in depth about your personal lives. You know her wife and have been to several work-related events where you shuck some of the formality of what you do, but you're not the type to talk about your romantic partners.

"I need to know, when you picked me, did you know?" you plead. To her credit, Laswell doesn't push for an answer to her question.

"No, I didn't know. But John was definitely pleased when I told him who I was sending. Makes sense given what you said."

You latch onto her comment. "How did you know John was happy about it?"

"Work long enough with someone, Oz, and you can tell a lot from what they say and their silences without ever needing to see their face. There was something about the way John responded when I told him you'd be the one taking forward point on this. I can't tell you exactly what, but I know it meant he was happy with the situation."

You bite your lip, wondering how things would have been different if you'd stayed back in DC and Laswell had sent someone else in your place. "Did you ever think to send anyone else?" you ask.

Again, there's a long, weighty pause on Laswell's end. "Do you want an honest answer? Or do you want me to tell you what I think you need to hear?"

It strikes you how naive you are not to realize the two could be separate things. Your fingers idly tap against the keyboard, writing nonsense code while you think. If you put yourself in Laswell's shoes, it's clear there are a number of other tech operatives she could have sent, people more senior than you. But is there anyone else who cares enough about the 141 to do everything in their power to ensure the boys are successful and come home whole? Other than Kate herself, you know the answer to that is no. It comes out barely louder than a whisper when you reply, "You could have sent any of us, but you know I'll do my damndest to protect them."

You can practically hear Laswell's grin. "That's why you're there and not here. And I'd wager a bet that it's why they want you, too."

Much as you hoped a conversation with her would give you some clarity, you're almost more conflicted after the phone call. You thank Laswell for her time and hang up, slowly packing your things. It's after 7:00, and no one has come looking for you. Clearly the boys are waiting on your next move. Instead of heading for the mess or the barracks, you follow your earlier plan and take the bus into town again. This afternoon, you'd noticed a little greek restaurant a few doors down from the bus stop in town, so you head there.

Like many other restaurants on the street, almost the entire front is open to the sidewalk. You sit yourself at a small table for two off to the side. Menus are scattered about, so you snag one, only glancing through the options half-heartedly. When a good looking man in his thirties comes over, winning smile already on his face, and asking in accented English, "What would you like, lovely lady?", you find yourself stuttering over an answer.

What would you like?

Sitting here alone, watching the crowds pass, it hits you exactly what you want. You have an answer, for yourself and the boys.

You utter an apology to the waiter, vowing to yourself to come back later, and hastily grab your things. As you round the edge of the shop, you see a bus coming down the road and recognize the line number as the one you need. Your heels click faster as you race to the bus, hopping on just as the driver is shutting the door. You meander down the aisle, taking a seat near the back and stewing all the way back to base.

Your leg jiggles, foot tapping a nervous staccato as the bus makes its stops. The drive back feels agonizingly longer than the ride to town. By the time you see the base through the front window, you're nearly out of your skin with nerves. You scurry across base and throw open the barracks door open with more force than you intended. There's sound coming from the rec room, so you turn your feet in that direction. You only hope they're all here. You don't know if you have the nerves to do this more than once.

When you open the rec room door, sounds cut off almost immediately. Four pairs of eyes whip to you from various spots around around the room. Simon's eyes rove over you like a starving man at an oasis. Between his watery eyes and the guarded way he's holding himself, Soap reminds of you a hit dog, waiting to see if the next blow will land. John assesses you like a potential threat: what damage might you do to him and his boys? Kyle takes a glance at you and breaks out into a grin as if he knows what you're about to say.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 10

"Uh, hi," you stammer. "Um, I know I've been avoiding you, and I wanted to apologize." You pause and are shocked no one jumps in with a comment the way they usually would. Perhaps they all recognize this for what it is, a defining moment in their lives where they will either get what they've been wanting or lose a chance at it forever.

Your gaze drifts over each man, and you take a deep steadying breath before continuing. "Kyle gave me, well, all of you, really, gave me a lot to think about. About what I want and what you want and what it all means." Though this confession is hard, you try to be as brave as your boys. "I don't know what to do because you're right. I do like you all. I have feelings for you all. And if it were just one, my answer would be easy."

This time when you stop, John says what's already on your heart. "Life is rarely easy, dove. But the best things are worth fightin' for." He gifts you the ghost of a smile.

You nod, "Yes. And you're right. I shouldn't be scared of something just because it's hard. And I'm not, not really."

"Then what?" Simon's voice cuts in, barely restrained agony lancing the words.

"I want to be with you all, but it's going to be hard for me. I'm going to need you to be patient," you tell them.

A smile breaks over Soap's face like a wave crashing ashore. "Bonnie, fer ye, we'd do anything."

Kyle's off his seat and in front of you, hands hovering over your arms. "Does this mean you'll be ours, Oz?" he asks tenderly. Your chin dips slightly, only once, but it's enough. He wraps his arms around you and whispers in your ear, "Always knew ya were meant for us." He presses a kiss to your temple as you feel the others moving around you.

John's lips kiss your cheek again as he says, "That's our girl."

Simon's massive build radiates heat behind you, his hands a warm, comforting weight on your waist as you feel the fabric of his mask press against the crown of your head.

Soap crowds in between Simon and Gaz. His hands cup your cheeks and turn your head to him. He rests his forehead against your and mumbles, "Ye dinnae ken hoo happy this makes me, make us all, tae call ye oors," as he drops a featherlight kiss on your lips.

Taglist: @blackhawkfanatic @starriestarlight @grayskel @mxtokko @imjustheretofightforlove @miss-vanta-likes-to-write @thriving-n-jiving @madsothree @silly-starfish @danielle143 @beelzebee @nova-willow-541 @alchemyfreak321 @lilynotdilly @eternallyelvish @viylikescats @erintaro @hidden-treasures21 @lil-writer-523 @mordacioust @echo9821 @yunho-leeknow @aria-writer @chaosundcoffee @boogeysmoth

#cod #poly!141 #poly!141 x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #kyle garrick #simon riley #john price #johnny mactavish #nerdygirl says

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blueskittlesart · 1 day ago

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I don't think these people know what a dogwhistle is

i do recognize that i kind of brought this on myself here because this is what happens to me every time im even slightly vocal about my lesbianism on this website but it is genuinely exhausting sometimes. like. i recognize that terfism is so rampant in lesbian spaces that people feel the need to be especially vigilant but it’s gotten to the point where even the absolute tamest mention of decentering men nets me multiple asks telling me im probably a terf. and like i understand that if you’re online 24/7 it can be difficult to seperate the concept of feminism from the concept of transmisogyny because there are so many very vocal terfs online but i need everyone to understand that believing that trans women are women and believing that women are an oppressed class/decentering men in your own life are not mutually exclusive concepts and it actually does make you look bad when you assume that every lesbian expressing frustration with the way men are constantly centered in every conversation ever must actually secretly be talking about trans women instead of just like. taking my fucking words at face value. barring everything else it makes you look stupid to send me an ask suggesting that using the phrase “male character” is a dogwhistle, presumably because someone on twitter once told you that terfs often deliberately refer to trans women as “males.” it makes you look like someone who is incapable of comprehending the contextual difference between statements because it makes it incredibly obvious that you are reading the words i am saying without absorbing the meaning behind them. you think “dogwhistle” means “cheat code for weeding out bad people” when it ACTUALLY means “deliberately innocuous word or phrase which, when used IN CERTAIN CONTEXTS, may signal certain bigoted views or philosophies.” please either learn how to use context clues or leave me the fuck alone

#sorry. none of this is directed at you the asker obv i am agreeing with you but oh my GODDDDD #asks

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sweetdispatch · 1 day ago

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May I please have 9 pieces of wedding cake and warm apple pie with flavors of peppermint and vanilla topped with coconut flakes?

Vow renewal - C. Keller

v' bakery pairing: Clayton Keller x fem!reader summary: You and Clayton got married in really young age and with time, both of you faced a huge problem in your marriage warning: none

It wasn’t an ideal scenario for both of you. You and Clayton started dating when you two were 20. Year later you found out that you’re pregnant and because of your parents' influence, you had to get married before delivering the kid. Both of you knew that you are too young to settle down, especially that you’ve been together only a year. To please your parents, you did it.

At first, everything looked like a fairytale. You and Clayton were very much in love and when you gave birth, you two couldn’t be happier. You had a healthy boy and Clayton was more than happy to see his son being interested in hockey. The kid had your character but Clayton’ look. He was your little miracle.

Because you two got married so young, two of you started struggling with keeping the feelings alive. Now, you and Clayton were 27 and the arguments had become your new reality. You tried to fight for this relationship but you felt like you’re in a lost position. Clayton was distancing himself from you and you couldn’t stop it.

The fights weren’t even hurting you anymore. As bad as it sounds, you got used to them. The only thing that was hurting you was the fact that your son was a witness of the screaming match between you and Clayton. This little 6 year old boy was hearing everything and you knew that you had to do something about it.

It was another argument between you two but this time, you were tired. All you wanted was to know if you can rescue the relationship. You loved Clayton but you loved your son even more.

“Do you regret it?” You asked Clayton in the middle of the argument. He was taken aback by your question.

“Regret what?” Clayton was confused about what you’re implying.

“Listening to my parents and marrying me” You replied. You were tired of those constant arguments. You wanted peace for you and your son.

“Yes” Clayton said and your heart broke. “I love you but I feel trapped in this marriage. If I could have a time machine, I wouldn’t marry you that fast” You could feel tears running down your cheeks.

“Is this your way of saying that we should get divorce?” You asked not to be ready to hear his answer.

“No, as I said, I love you but I think we need some time apart. You have to admit that those fights are not healthy for us, not to even mention our kid. I think separation is the best solution” Clayton admitted and all you could was to nod your head.

“Okay, if you think that might save us, I’m willing to try” You said sadly.

“I’ll move to one of my teammates so you can have the house. I’ll be coming to see our boy when I’ll be having free time. Is it alright with you?” All you did was to nod. Clayton grabbed his clothes and left.

It’s been a week since you and Clayton made the decision. It was a quiet time at home without any arguments and screaming at each other. You missed him like crazy but at the same time you enjoyed the peace you had. Clayton felt similar. As much as he liked coming back without being bothered by arguments, he missed you by his side.

Almost every single day, Clayton was trying to come home to spend time with his son. At that time, you two were acting like old times. No arguments, no screaming, just enjoying each other's presence. You two realised that this relationship is saveable but both of you were scared to bring up this conversation.

Clayton knew that he’s the one who messed up and he had a great plan in his mind to win you back. He was aware that he hurt you by saying that he regret marrying you at such a young age, that’s why he wanted to propose to you properly and do vow renewal. The time you two got married, Clayton didn’t propose. You two had a small ceremony just to have the wedding rings.

It was a sunday, Clayton had a day off and decided to pay you a visit. You were sitting at the table with your son and eating breakfast. He sat next to you two and ate in peace while listening to his son's stories. He started dreaming that this might be his everyday life if he managed to rescue what’s left between you and him.

The whole day all three of you spent on playing games and laughing. It felt so natural like you two don't have any problems in life. Your son was the reason both of you wanted to fight for this relationship. None of you wanted him to go through the divorce. When your son fell asleep, you and Clayton sat down in the living room and watched a movie.

“I need to tell you something” Clayton started and you were picturing the worst thing.

“I’m all ears” You replied.

“I was thinking a lot in the past couple of days and I know that I want you in my life. I want to fight for it to be back to normal without any arguments. I want to be the best father and husband to both of you. I know I hurt you by saying that I regret listening to your parents but now…” Clayton took off the box with the ring in it and kneeled in front of you. “It’s my decision without any influence and I know that I want you as my wife. Will you make me the happiest man alive and agree to marry me and have the vow renewal?” He asked with hope in his voice. You broke down in tears.

“Yes, of course” You said excitedly. Clayton put a ring on your finger and you spoke. “I don’t even know what to say. I’m speechless. I’m just so happy that we have a second chance”

Clayton smiled at you and put his lips on yours. This kiss was electric and full of the emotions that were hidden inside the two of you. This was a new start for both of you.

#clayton keller #clayton keller x reader #clayton keller imagine #clayton keller oneshot #clayton keller fanfiction #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #utah hockey club #v' bakery

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