#that no one else wanted to be friends with | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kamitv · 21 hours ago

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Your best friend Sukuna is a complete slut.

Though you’d never say that aloud—albeit more than true. That's the only way to describe him because why else would he be in your bedroom, sitting on the edge of your bed, with his legs spread wide open, fingers wrapped around his thick cock, and groans of your name leaving his lips?

Because he’s a goddamn slut, that’s why. And normally when you interrupt his… sexual acts, you quietly apologize and rush off as quickly as possible.

Yet, here you were, being ordered by your best friend not to run away this time.

“I’m not gonna repeat myself,” Sukuna’s raspy and slightly husked voice drawls out to you, eyes boring into yours from across the room, “Bring your ass over here.”

Funny how he said he wasn’t going to repeat himself only to follow up with a literal repeat of his initial order-

“Now,” He hums, his voice sending a chill down your spine.

You stiffen up where you stand, trying your absolute best to keep your eyes anywhere and everywhere else except for the hand he had stroking his cock.

Gulping, “Sukuna-,” He shoots you a pointed glare and you start getting nervous. “You can’t just… j-jerk off in my room and expect me to… to help you.”

“Fuck,” He hisses, your eyes nearly falling on him again as the low noise makes you fidget, “Fine, then get out,” Sukuna tells you.

Your brows push together at the audacity of him, not that it really surprises you anymore, “But-“

“Out. I’ll be done soon,” He cuts off, sitting back and fisting his cock at a quicker pace, eyes drinking in every inch of your still figure.

You didn’t want to look at him. Nor did you want him jerking off in your bedroom. But, you also didn’t want to leave for some strange reason.

Hence why you just stand there and look around your room as if you don’t know the interior already. Sukuna can’t help but crack a smirk as you stand there, his breath growing heavy before he calls your name— watching the way you flinch at the sound.

“Kinda’ awkward if you just stand there, y’know,” He chuckles out to you, finding you oh so amusing.

You frown, “Kinda’ awkward if you just jerk off in my bedroom.”

“It wouldn’t be if you came over here,” He snaps back.

You hate how quick he always is with his responses, something you still haven’t gotten used to throughout all your years of friendship. Swallowing, you just barely glance at the man, “What?” You huff out.

Your eyes were on his and his were on yours. Tension was vexed into his gaze, desire pouring out of his maroon shaded eyes and making you so utterly nervous as you stood across the room from him.

All as he just sat there, shirtless, tattooed and chiseled chest very difficult not to gaze at, large thighs spread lewdly, and hard curved cock twitching within his grasp as precum oozed out his tip.

You couldn’t help the way your gaze dropped for a moment, catching sight of his cock and the way his plump tip glistened under your dim bedroom lighting. His hand movements got noticeable faster as you watched and you drew your thighs closer together.

Sukuna lets out a deep sigh, “Y’know,” The sound of his voice makes you flinch yet again and you lift your gaze as though you’d been caught doing something wrong, seeing the smirk on his face, “You can come get a closer look.”

You bat your lashes at him, “W-What?”

“Is that all you know how to say?” He chuckles, “Hah, just c’mere already,” He suddenly requests, voice softening ever so slightly. “I won’t bite.”

And that’s… roughly how you ended up on your knees in between his legs. With a mouthful of his cock, you don’t even remember what’d come over you after you listened to his request and came close to him.

One moment you started shyly teasing him about being a pervert who jerks off in your bedroom and the next you were curling your fingers around his shaft and making your way down to your knees. Sukuna had let out a long shaky sigh as he watched you settle in between his spread legs, his urge to tease you dying off as some other emotion swelled within his chest.

He’ll never admit it to you but, he was shy. How could he not be when your soft hand begins stroking his cock like he’s just some kinda toy for you to play with—what’d you expect him to do when you look up at him and lean forward to wrap your lips around his drooling cockhead?

Unfortunately for him, his expression gave away everything and as soon as his dick began disappearing into the warm caverns of your mouth, he was a goner. A hand was now tightly gripped onto your scalp, his breathing unsteady as he watched you suck him off with that pretty ass mouth of yours.

He’ll never be able to forget the sight of drool spilling out from the corners of your mouth while you tried your best to take him all the way into your throat. And his mind just about blanks when you move your hands to his thighs, push them further apart, and then sink down completely—your lips meeting his base.

Now that was a sight to see.

“F-Fuck,” Sukuna stammered, the sound alone leading you to choke a bit as a moan attempted to leave your throat. His darkened eyes were seconds away from rolling to the back of his skull with how sexy he found the sight of your lips bulging around his thick cock.

When you finally do pull your mouth off of him, he doesn’t even get a moment to breathe before your hands are wrapping around him. He goes from leaning back slightly to sitting up a bit straighter and moving his hands down to one of your wrists, his lips unknowingly quivering.

Then a pant escapes him and you’re bringing your eyes back up to look at him. “Slow, woman—fuck, go… hah, slow.” He says hoarsely.

Oh the desperation on his face was priceless. Why ever would you listen to him when using two hands to jerk him off is all it takes to receive a slightly pouted lip and furrowed brows from him. He probably doesn’t even realize the face he’s making at the moment, too grumpy trying to take control of the situation to feel his features faltering.

You coo, “Aw, go slow? But, ‘Kuna, I thought this was what you wanted?”

The nickname you just threw at him has to be evil in some way, shape, or form because the wild twitch it invokes is enough to have your hands tightening their grip around his thick cock.

Sukuna grits his teeth and you can see a vein popping out in his forehead—he’s so annoyed with you now that the roles have reversed, it’s cute. “Fuck you,” He curses, as if that’ll help him avoid the embarrassment bubbling up within him right now.

“Oh, there he is,” You purr, removing one of your hands just to angle his cock back toward your lips and then tapping it against your skin gently. “S’kinda hard to be mean to me when I’m makin’ you feel so good, isn’t it?”

He swears you’ll be the death of him. He’s never experienced this side of you, nor was he aware it even existed. All he’s ever known you as was his shy roommate who’s so unintentionally attractive that it pains him to be around. Is this really the same woman who was stuttering moments ago when she walked in the room and caught him jerking off??

Sukuna huffs out an almost bratty breath of air, “Stop… talking.” Just as he’s never seen this side of you, you’ve never seen this side of him and fuck is it hot. He’s usually such a big intimidating man and yet here he is literally folding and gasping to your touch.

You completely strip your hands away from his cock and then open your mouth, staring right up into his eyes as you whisper, “Make me.”

All that embarrassment and temporary shyness is gone within the blink of an eye. Sukuna’s stumbling up slightly to his feet and grabbing a firm hold of the top of your head, letting out a gruff sigh while taking his dick into his hands and properly aligning himself with your mouth.

His chest is glistening in sweat and his head is pounding, he was all nervous seconds ago for what? Because of you? Oh please.

It only took those two words of yours for him to remember who the hell he is as he then thrusts his hips forward and quickly fucks himself into your mouth. “That’s more like it,” Sukuna grunts, giving your mouth some mean thrusts as he forces your head to move and meet each one of his motions. “Fuckin’ slut, m-makin me nervous,” He admits hoarsely, his tone aggravated with you. “Who do you think you are, huh?”

You’re obviously too busy getting your face fucked to answer that properly but the moan you let out that leads to drool filthily dribbling out your mouth is enough of a reply for him. Especially when he catches how it drips down onto your thighs.

Sukuna releases a pretty groan out into the air at the mere sight of you. He thought he was losing his mind before but now it’s even worse. You don’t even have your hands on his thighs to try and brace yourself or control what’s happening—you just let him have his way with your throat, taking things a step further and moving your hands behind your slightly arched back.

Fuck, he needs a picture of this. He desperately needs this display of you burned into the forefront of his mind for the rest of his life. Especially as he starts hitting the back of your throat and you purposefully choke against him. Sukuna’s other hand lifts to cover his mouth because he swears he almost whined.

Your throats too fuckin’ tight, you’re holding eye contact with him for too damn long, and if he feels your tongue flick against that specific vein of his one more time—

“Hnngh—” Sukuna moans, his grip almost bruising as his head flies back and his cock presses right against the very depths of your mouth, hips stalling with the way his orgasm comes rudely rushing out of him.

Then he feels you swallowing and even though he was trying to keep you head still, you begin to bob yourself back and forth on his cock while he’s cumming and that’s when a whimper is choked out from his lips. Sukuna’s whole body just clenches and he’s letting out all kinds of sounds as his hand, now shaky, holds onto your head for dear life.

Even when he stops cumming, you’re still sucking and his eyes roll back, voice coming out strained. “S-Shit, fuck—stop,” Sukuna moans again, “Please?” Never in all your years of living did you ever think you’d hear Sukuna Ryomen begging you for something and yet here you are.

You steadily pull your mouth off of him with a slick pop, sting after string of saliva hanging in between his tip and your glossy lips. He’s above you panting for a moment before stumbling back to sit down on the edge of your bed again.

A hand of yours moves to causally wipe your mouth off and you don’t even know if you wanna tease him now or later about what just happened. “So, that was—”

“Don’t speak,” He cuts off immediately, his voice surprisingly airy. “Ever. Never bring this up again.”

You snort, “Promise me you won’t jerk off in my room again, first.”

Sukuna scoffs. “Tch. Whatever.”

Like the vixen you are, you begin to lean toward him again and you don’t know if you image it but he flinches ever so slightly. “Promise me,” You say as your hands meet his knees and you begin to lift yourself up.

His eyes go wide and he internally panics at the sight of you moving. “Fucking fine. I promise.”

Smiling, you move to lean over his tensed body and plant a kiss on his cheek, “Good boy.”

…

Yeahhh, his brain just powered off.

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yanderenightmare · 15 hours ago

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♡ TW: toxic relationship, obsessiveness, possessiveness, denied break-up, abuse, manipulation, ish-kidnapping

♡ inspired by this by the lovely @eevwrites

♡ FEM reader

You’d wanted to be nicer about it. You’d planned it carefully, actually—even written down the words you were going to say in several drafts on your notes app.

This was his fault—his fault that things were ending this way—his fault for making you do it now and not someplace else, someplace private where you could talk properly and do it right. Yes, this wasn’t what you wanted—this is what he’d made it be by forcing your hand—forcing your hand to throw a drink in his face in front of an entire crowd of drunk and dancing onlookers, as well as a handful of your mutual friends.

“Grow the fuck up!” you bark, taking on a hostile stance by placing your kitten heel down hard—glaring at him in all manners of vicious. “I’m not your property—and after this night, I’m not your girl either.”

No—it wasn’t how you wanted to end things—breaking up is something that should be done carefully—responsibly, and at the very least sensibly—not drunk or in the heat of a moment in some club a late Saturday night, but that’s how he’d made it happen. Always on you like a dog with a bone, a pest to your party—asking you to drink less, to wear more, to stop dancing like that, and to go home early with him. Fuck that, and fuck him. For the last time.

You glower at him for a moment—wanting to see your words solidify as they dawn on his shell-shocked face dripping with your drink. You watch long enough to catch his cheeks start to pool with bright, chagrinned pink—even in the dim club lights—before ripping your wrist out from his grip and stomping away from him, back into the crowd of sweaty, indiscriminate bodies all having fun to the beat of the drum and bass blasting over the speakers.

You might apologize for it tomorrow—tell him you hadn’t meant for it to come out like that, then break up properly as you’d intended with your well-written note at a Sunday cafe. But right now, you just want to dance. Hell, that’s what you’d come here to do—not to stand pretty between his arms and listen to him whine about all the people checking you out. Jeez—a fucking party pooper if there ever was one, and an insecure loser at that.

Your relationship ended mere moments ago, but you’re already feeling fantastic—ecstatic even—freed and light as a feather, like a big burdensome weight has just been dusted off your shoulders and given you a squeaky-clean break. In fact, with the way you’re feeling right now, not to mention the way you’re looking—hair right and makeup done up drop-dead gorgeous in your perfect little black dress hot as all hell—you might very well go home with someone else.

Is what you think in your alcohol-induced head—looking back at the guy who’s rubbing back into your grinding, thinking he’s quite a solid rebound. He even buys you another drink! Then two, then three, and ooh wee, guess who’s going home with a hot stranger!

The two of you stumble out of the club together—drunk and dumb and giggly, ready to order a cab to his place. It would be the first time in a very long time you’d have a one-night stand, but you have no mind to rethink it. On cloud nine, where you cling to the good-looker—as though you were scared he’d slip through your fingers if you let go for even a moment—as if you’d been denied a fun time for so long, you feared someone might come and take the thrill away.

“There you are,” a voice breaks your laughter, cracking the bright smile on your face. “Finally done?”

You go quiet, and so does the world around you—stopping dead in your tracks, you look up through your lashes as if ashamed to meet his gaze—knowing it would be harsh.

“And who are you supposed to be?” tonight’s unfortunate boytoy cocks his head.

Your boyfriend–no—your ex-boyfriend squares up, folding his arms upon his puffed chest, arms that look more threatening than you remember, then cocks his chin with an unamused face. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Pfft—no, you’re not,” you slur with a scoff, shaking your head, trying to sober up. “I broke up with you.”

Your ex doesn’t find it as funny, giving you a steely glare while raising a strict pointer at you. “Shut it. You’ve had your fun.”

He then grabs your upper arm hard, pulling you away from the stranger and close to his side—grip so tight his knuckles whiten against your flesh.

“Sorry about her,” he chuckles at the stranger with a stiff smile on his face. “She gets like this sometimes—y’know how girls are…” He looks down at you while he says the next thing, “Attention whores.”

And then he laughs again, looking back at your friend—who, at this point, is looking a little uncomfortable where he stands caught in the middle of the awkward exchange.

“I apologize if she got your hopes up, but she’s only doing this to rile me up and has absolutely zero intentions of going home with you—so you might as well just scram.”

He’s already backing away when you interject, “Hey—”

But he just throws his hands up. “Sorry, you’re fine, but I’m not touching this.”

Your ex scoffs with a smirk. “Smart kid.”

And then the guy’s gone. Just like that. Slipped away—leaving you alone again with him. The one you can’t ever seem to escape.

“Tch—look at you,” he grumbles, looking you over, still with a mean grip of your upper arm. “ You’re a drunk mess. I’m taking you home.”

You plant your heels—or try to at least—as he starts dragging you along towards the lot where he’d parked his car.

“Stop!” you say, wanting to pull your arm free but failing. “I told you already—I’m not your girlfriend—we’re done, so leave me alone.”

He doesn’t pay you any mind, maintaining a straight route to the car.

“Let go!” you whine, tightening your hand around the strap to your purse before slapping it across his back. “I said—”

“I thought I told you to shut your mouth,” he growls once the two of you reach the car. “I’ve had about enough of this attitude of yours.”

Turning to face you, he instantly yanks your handbag out of your grip, all but confiscating it—his warped expression only a short inch away from yours, glaring at you with his teeth clenched.

“Now, if you know what’s best for you, you’re gonna sit your bratty ass down in the car and put your goddamn seatbelt on before I get even more pissed off than I already am—then maybe, just maybe, I’ll go a little easier on you once we get home.”

He pops the passenger’s door open before throwing you inside—keeping your purse to himself as he rounds the car and gets in the driver’s seat, along with your phone and credit card. Left no other options but to take your chances in the sketchy club district, all alone, in the middle of the night, with no good means of getting home…

You deliberate it, holding onto the door handle, ready to jump out—but ultimately, you sit pretty as he starts the car.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Sakusa ♡ BLLK – Reo ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

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harmoonix · 2 days ago

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Winter Observations ❄️

❄️ Saturn in late degrees or 3rd decan (20° to 29° degrees) is meant to finish a lesson in this lifetime. The lesson can be something unfinished from your past life

❄️ Capricorn Moons/10th house Moons have a hard time staying focused only on one thing. They want to do multiple things at once due to their multitasking power

❄️ Saturn in the 6th/8th or 12th house gets drained easily. Tiredness can be a problem for them. They need to maintain a balance between their work and some time for themselves

❄️ 2nd house placements may love to make gifts/spoil others with it. They also love to plan things for others like surprises, parties, etc

❄️ moon - jupiter aspects are gifted with wisdom and optimism. Somehow, it is hard for them to think badly upon a situation. Always keeping their heads up

❄️ Chiron in the 2nd house or Taurus may struggle with their worth/self - value. They can over criticize themselves. They may also struggle to love their bodies

❄️ Having Moon or Venus dominance in your chart shows that you're a very gentle and nice person. Also, don't let others take your nice personality in vain

❄️ a couple who shares the same chiron sign can share the same traumas/dark traits. Couple therapy can be a healing key for you

❄️ Sun in the 11th house can sometimes indicate being married multiple times during your lifetime. Kinda like J-LO reference (Mi gente latino💣)

❄️ Taylor Swift has both Moon and Chiron in Cancer, which can be a bit of a sign of 'making a song about every romantic experience you went through'

❄️ Those with Chiron x harsh Venus aspects have a hard time opening their feelings. Sometimes, these can indicate a fear of breakup or abandonment

❄️ Mercury in dark houses like 8th or 12th hosue can turn to be big snitches. Mercury tends to have a darker energy here, especially if also aspects Pluto

❄️ Aries in the 3rd/6th or 11th house can posses a violent nature when it comes to their talking. Basically, it tends to curse and talk dirty a lot

❄️ Virgo in the 8th or 12th house can be triggered by many things. Is like you live in permanent fear of something. They may also show lots of phobias

❄️ Someone with Virgo Chiron is definitely the therapist of their friends, family and even partner. People approach you so much when they need help

❄️ 1st house lord in the 4th or 6th houses have a very empathic/kind nature. They also tend to be quite nostalgic and very in tune with themselves

❄️ 10th hosue lord in the 11th house can becomes famous on internet before anything else. Is it like people will know you from social media

❄️ Aries Risings or Mars should find a career/job where they can take the leader position because it fits them so much. They can also work in fields where people may do lots of physical work

❄️ 3rd house placements, especially Venus/Mars/Moon, may have a passion for cars/motorcycles/bikes. Everything that has wheels

❄️ Leo Chrion is either a placement where the native seeks love and attention, either the placement where the native never got to experience these

❄️ Leo Jupiter has a lot of chances to become popular for their talents. It can be done in a creative field such as acting or drawing

❄️ Lots of ppl with Mercury in the 10th house tend to be remembered for their voices. It's like the voice you'll always remember, even after a long time

❄️ Venus in the 4th house can often get a spouse who can be the 'bread winner', basically a traditional family or a trad spouse as well

❄️ Venus and Moon in the 5th house can be good at flirting/taking the first step in a relationship. Head over heals energy

❄️ Mercury in the 6th house is a very active house for Mercury. Basically, communicating daily helps your mental health and mood. You may also worry a lot as a person

❄️ Idk why people romanticize possessive aspects in a relationship like pluto - venus/asc/mars. They're not okay unless you're in that situation..which I don't wish upon nobody

❄️ I wrote in the past about how I don't get along with cancer placements, I realized it was because most cancer people I knew were very controlling. Tbh with you, I never got the chance to meet good people with cancer placements

❄️ Lacking water placements in your chart can manifest in 2 ways:

Being hypersensitive, lacking the feeling of feeling love or closure

Being a cold person. Not showing your feelings to the world thinking that they see you as a weak/soft person

❄️ Pisces Risings always tell what's on their heart. They seem so genuine and nice even when you don't interact with them.

❄️ Moon in Scorpio or the 8th hosue can indicate intense inner feelings. Is hard for them to explain what they feel, and that's what can make them to be more private

❄️ Something that I observed within the moon in fire signs or fire houses 1st/5th/9th is that they get pissed off very easily. Is so easy for them to burst out and be angry/sad/moody

❄️ Jupiter in Cancer/Capricorn/Libra/Leo can experience a step family. Like step-dad, step-mom, step siblings, Jupiter can also give you things in excess ex: in Cancer/Leo, many family members

❄️ Jupiter in aspects with Lilith (all aspects), can indicate issues with hypersexuality. Like I said, Jupiter can give you things in excess. When aspecting Lilith, the desire for physical touch can be high

❄️🩵 Hope you all have a good winter season for the next 3 months!! Also early/late happy birthday for everyone born in the winter🙏🏼🥳

Harmoonix ❄️🩵🫶🏼 2024

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novelistwriter · 1 day ago

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Royal Bats

DP x DC Prompt

Danny and Jazz always were together in life, and they would remain together as siblings whenever Jazz would reincarnate as a mortal again.

Jazz reincarnated a lot, wanting to experience the different things in those dimensions she chose with a fresh start and no memories. She had many adventures in her new lives, with Danny beside her as her 'Imaginary Friend' whenever she was a kid and her 'Guardian Angel' during the rest of her lives.

This new life she has reincarnated in has her living as a rich woman with a loving husband and a kid. The first time he's seen her have one in her many lives. He couldn't save Jazz or her husband's lives because of Clockwork, who had sent him on a small mission related to time.

When he returned to the dimension with Jazz's new life, he arrived at the funeral for Thomas and Martha Wayne, with their Ghosts behind Bruce. Martha, or Jazz again, had embraced Danny in a hug and told Thomas the basics of who Danny was to her, but before they left, Jazz left some parting words to Danny.

"Look after my son, little brother. Protect him like you how you protect me."

So Danny does. He follows Bruce around while he's training to become Batman. And when Bruce returns to Gotham to be Batman, he helps him with Lady Gotham. With each kid Bruce brings into his family, Danny duplicates himself to help each of them.

Danny had killed the Joker after his resurrection by Bruce when the Clown was alone. He couldn't do it while the Joker was living, as he needed to follow the rules, or else he would have had more paperwork to sort through.

Danny had been telling Jazz and Thomas about their son and what he's been doing about his feats, his children, and his friends. They did support Danny's decisions on killing the Joker. He felt a tug on his core, the tug that happens when he is being summoned, so he quickly said his goodbyes to Jazz and Thomas and accepts the summoning.

What shocks him is seeing that he's in the Watchtower, with the Justice League there, including Bruce and his children. All of his seriousness is drained out of him, and he smiles at Bruce and his family.

"My nephew, it is good to finally speak to you"

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcu #batman #dp crossover #ghost king danny #dp x dc prompt

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alotofpockets · 2 days ago

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Don't touch me | Alexia Putellas x Barca!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Don't touch me."

Woso masterlist | Words: 2k

-----

Never before have you had a relationship that lasted more than three years. Three serious relationships in the past all ended right around the three year mark, always being ended by your partner with some lame excuse like it’s not you, it’s me.

The three year curse you had started calling it in your head, no one seemed to want you after three years. While it was probably all in your head and just some big coincidence, it still lingered in your mind every time you thought about the fact that your three year anniversary with Alexia was nearing.

You wanted Alexia to be the exception to “the curse” with every bone in your body, but you knew it wasn’t only up to you. Alexia had to keep wanting you, and at the moment it felt like she didn’t.

It seemed like she was getting distant with you. Almost every conversation she had with you was about football. While the sport was important to the both of you, and you took your jobs very seriously, you were afraid that it was starting to be the only thing that was keeping the two of you together right now.

At first you thought it was just the stress of the season. You were busy too with the intense training sessions and the games being so close together. But even on your days off, she seemed distracted. You had never seen her on her phone this much.

When you’d ask her about it, she’d shake it off with a simple, “Oh it’s nothing, cariño.” A small smile sent your way, before she’d dive into her texts again. Each moment was added to a rapidly expanding list of signs that Alexia didn’t want you anymore.

It was during a team party when all the things on your list started to come together. You hadn’t wanted to go to the party with your teammates and friends, but Alexia had insisted it would be good to be away from football for once. You had taken that as a sign in the right direction, but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

The party was loud, music and laughter filled the space. It wasn’t really your scene in the first place, but you knew a lot of the girls on the theme thrived in environments like this, so you went along with it.

With a drink in your hand, you were chatting with Ingrid and Frido. Your eyes searched the bar for Alexia, who said she was going to get a drink like twenty minutes ago. When you finally found her in the crowd, your blood ran cold.

She stood to the side with a girl you didn’t recognize. The way her face lit up as she spoke to the stranger made you realise that they knew each other. When Alexia leaned in to whisper something into the girl's ear, your stomach twisted.

You excused yourself from the girls and got up to go to the restroom. Once in the small space you looked at yourself in the mirror. Tears were welling up in your eyes, as all the puzzle pieces seemed to fall into place.

The texts, distance, meetings outside of the regular football ones, and now watching her with this girl. She was seeing someone else? You’ve had shitty break-ups and stupid reasons as to why thrown to your face, but cheating? That was a new low.

How could she? All the hope you had left for your relationship to beat your three year curse flowed away with the water you let run down your hands. You splash your face with the tab water before you enter the bar again.

You wanted to go home, but you felt bad about just leaving, so you decided on just going back to Ingrid and Frido. That is until you saw that Alexia was walking towards you, “Hola cariño, I missed you.” She puts her arm around your shoulder but you’re quick to shake it off.

“Don’t touch me.” you say to gritted teeth. She moves her arm away quickly, but full of confusion. “What’s wrong?” You take a step back, “It’s fine, I just need some space.” Before Alexia could say anything, you had turned on your heels and ran out of the bar. You faintly heard her call after you, but you didn’t turn around.

You had called a cab and got them to drive you to your apartment to grab some clothes and gear you needed, and then drive you to your friend’s house. Luckily your friend didn’t ask too many questions when you showed up on their doorstep with a suitcase and a backpack slung over your shoulder. Your tear stained face combined with the time probably said enough. She simply stepped aside, offered you a hug, and said “Stay as long as you need.”

After slumping down on her couch, she let you be. Only coming back to offer you a pillow and some blankets. Grateful for her understanding, you got comfortable on her couch.

As comfortable as you could be while playing what happened at the bar over and over in your head. Alexia’s confused face when you pushed her away sent a pang of guilt to your chest, but you had to remind yourself that seeing her with that girl hurt you. You tried fighting back the tears, but they came anyway.

The next morning you wake up to a note saying your friend had left for work, but that you were free to stay and take whatever you needed from the fridge. You pick up your phone to check the time to see your phone bombarded with messages. Amongst a few of your teammates checking in on you since they didn’t see you leave the bar, you saw Alexia’s name pop up.

Alexia: Cariño, what’s going on?

Alexia: Please talk to me

Alexia: I don’t understand what happened. I am worried about you

Alexia: Please just let me know that you are somewhere safe

As much as she had hurt you, you couldn’t leave her messages unanswered.

You: I’m staying at Lauren’s. See you at practice

It felt weird texting her, and you were definitely not feeling up to seeing her. But you had a job to do, so you got ready for training nonetheless.

When you got to practice, you hid behind a fake smile. You sat down at your usual spot next to Alexia, to make sure nothing seemed off to the rest of the team, but you didn’t speak to her.

“Where did you go last night?” Ingrid asks from across the room.“Oh, my friend texted me with an emergency so I had to help her out, all good now though.” Everyone seemed to buy your lie, besides Alexia of course.

“Can we talk?” She whispered so that only you could hear her. “Later.” You said without making eye contact. Knowing that if you looked at her, you would break. You tie your laces and make your way over to the pitch without another word.

If anyone noticed the distance between you and Alexia, they didn’t say anything. You were keeping up your fake smile and tried to be as positive as you could, so no one would question you about something being up.

Alexia on the other hand seemed less composed. You felt her gaze on you during the whole training session. She seemed hesitant with her interactions, wanting to approach you, but not wanting to over step. Which clearly she had done yesterday, even if she hadn’t known what caused that.

The training session seemed to go on forever and Alexia’s eyes on you weren’t making it go by any quicker. Once the session finally came to an end, you quickly made your way over to get out of there as fast as you could, but Alexia sniffed out your plan quick enough to interfere.

She pulled you aside and kept walking away from the rest of the team. “Please can we talk now? If you need space, I will give you space, but I need to know what I did wrong.” You looked her in the eyes for the first time then and saw the hurt and vulnerability in them.

“Fine.” You sighed, and stopped so you could talk properly. “What happened last night?” Her voice was soft, like she was on the verge of breaking down. You crossed your arms over your chest, “You really don’t know?”

“Cariño, please. If I knew what happened, I wouldn’t have stayed up all night worrying about you.” Her lip quivered, but she continued. “One minute we are fine, and the next you’re pushing me away. I don’t know what happened, I don’t understand.”

“The girl.” You said bitterly. “The girl you were so cosy with at the bar is what happened. Who was she, Alexia?” Her brows furrowed, trying to figure out which girl you meant.

“Oh, cariño, no. That is not what you’re thinking. Lo siento, lo siento mucho.” Your arms were still crossed over your chest when Alexia took a small step towards you. “That was Maia, she’s been helping me plan a surprise for you.”

“A surprise for me?” Alexia nodded instantly. “Sí, para ti. For our anniversary.”

Tears started streaming down your face when it started to dawn on you. “The texts, and you being distant was all because you were planning a surprise?” Alexia nodded guiltily. “Sí cariño. But I am so sorry, I didn’t realise how it was looking from your end. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You finally uncrossed your arms and reached out for Alexia, who instantly pulled you in for a hug. “Lo siento.” She whispered into your ear over and over again as she held you close.

While the comfort of her embrace was perfect, you still had to talk about what was going on in your head. “Alexia, I-” You stepped out of her hold. “I’ve been so scared. You know how I’ve never had a relationship longer than three years?” She nodded.

“Well, when you were starting to get distant, I thought the stupid curse was back to ruin us.” Alexia shook her head and brought you in closer again. “Cariño, no. I love you, and I don’t care about some stupid curse. I want you now and forever.”

“But it felt like you didn’t want me anymore, like all we talked about was football. It was like there was no connection between us besides football.” Another tear rolled down your cheek. Alexia wiped it away instantly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise I was making you feel this way. I was so focussed on planning the perfect surprise that I forgot to show you how much you mean to me everyday.”

“What can I do to make it up to you, cariño?” You let her pull you back in for another hug. “For starters, let’s pick up my stuff from Lauren’s so I can come back home. And then I need us to communicate better, and be more present in our relationship, even when our mind is elsewhere.” Alexia nodded along, “I promise. I never want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either.” You pecked her lips softly. “Come on, let’s get changed and pick up your stuff.”

She takes your hand and walks you back towards the training facility. “So, a surprise?” Alexia smiled and nodded, “Yeah, but I can totally tell you everything about it, if that will make things better. Just say the word.” You squeeze her hand, “I think it can stay a surprise, just don’t go all distant again, please.”

She pulled your intertwined hands up to her lips and placed multiple kisses on the back of your hand, “Never again, cariño, never again.”

-----

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#pockets 5k celebration #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #barca women #fcbfemeni #fcb femení #espwnt #espwnt imagine #espwnt x reader #woso x reader

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gh0stsp1d3r · 12 hours ago

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Tattoo artist!rafe x angel!reader who lets rafe do her secret tats, the ones that her parents have no clue about.

warnings: secret tattoos, suggestive so MDNI, he does end up touching and looking at your boobs LMFAO, nd this is for my girls with spaced out titties (me) ✊🏽

♫ dirty little secret, the all-american rejects

“Shit, is that who I think it is?” His voice causes you to look up, smiling at him with a little wave, standing up from the leather couch you were sat on, pocketing your phone and walking towards him.

“My favorite client.” He complimented, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you with a grin on his face.

“Aww… you’re too sweet.”

“How are you? It’s been a little. Last I saw you was church.” He said with a chuckle, you shrugging.

“Same old. How about you?”

“It’s been… going. You know, can’t complain. But I was really glad when I saw you dm me.” He spoke, motioning for you to follow him back when he began to walk. He led you into a room, shutting the door behind him. You sat down, nerves shooting as he turned back to you.

“So, I got the reference all drawn out.” He spoke while grabbing the stencil, showing it to you. “What do you think?”

“It’s amazing! As always.”

He smiled, flattered. He began putting his gloves on, your heart thumping against your chest as you sat down. You were nervous for two reasons, one being that tattoos always made you nervous, rightfully so. Reason two, well, that was because Rafe, one of your best friends who you had a fat crush on, was about to see you completely topless. It’s not like he hasn’t before, last appointment being a pair of little angel wings on your back, leaving you in your bra.

But now, he was literally going to see you without a bra. Maybe you should have picked another artist.

But it was too late to turn back now, you realized after he turned back, cleaning supplies for your skin in hand, along with the stencil.

“Uhm- can you take off your shirt and bra f’me?” He nodded at you, your cheeks warming up at the words. “Here, I’ll-“ he murmured, turning around to give you some sort of privacy, his back facing you. You tugged off both garments of clothing, and swallowed the lump that formed in your throat when he turned to look back at you. You sat back down on the chair.

“You all good?” He asked you, trying his best to look at your face rather than your tits as he walked closer to the chair. He grabbed the cleaning supplies, cleaning near and on the area where you wanted it before drying your skin off.

“Mhm.” You nodded, watching as his eyes traveled down your body, a spark in his eyes, he moved his hands slowly, beginning to line the little bow stencil up. His hands grazed the skin of your breasts, causing your breath to hitch. You held them in your hands, shielding them from his eyes.

“Okay… you said right here, correct?” He spoke, glancing into your eyes as he placed the stencil where the valley of where your boobs were, trying his best to remain professional despite everything. God, he hoped you couldn’t see the way his cock started to stir in his pants.

You nodded at him, him poking his tongue out of his mouth as he put it against your skin, smoothing it against your body before peeling it back, the ink now on your skin.

He sighed out in relief, it was perfectly placed and he hadn’t given away that he was rock hard.

“You want a water?” He asked you, you nodding at him. “Alright. I’ll be back.” He spoke, you finally taking a breath when he walked out of the room.

Not only was it an almost seemingly very long appointment, he made it worse every time you felt his hands brush up on your body.

You tried your best to have casual conversation, but god, was he making it hard.

“Hey, did you ever tell your parents about this?” He asked you randomly, you looking at him with a furrowed eyebrow. “Just out of curiosity. I know how they are.”

“Definitely not. They would kill me. They already think that anyone else with tattoos is ‘sent by the devil.’”

He chuckled, “heard that one before.”

You found yourself staring at his pillowy lips when he spoke, or his hands when he traced over the stencil carefully.

And once it was done, he gave you a fucking discount.

“Wait, whys it cheaper?” You asked him, looking at him with confusion on your face.

“I told you, you’re my favorite client. Plus, I can’t say I disliked the view I got during it.” He was getting bolder, a smirk making its way onto his face.

Cheeky motherfucker.

You tilted your head to the side with a little pout on your lips. “Are you sure? I feel bad.”

“I’m sure, princess.” He chuckled. “Just come back, yeah? Needa see you more.”

“Well, actually… if you want, I’m having this party next weekend… you know,” you shrugged, casually leaning over the counter. “My parents are out of town for a while.” You told him, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he raised his eyebrows at the invitation.

“Yeah?” He hummed out.

“Mhm.” You nodded, “you should come!”

“Oh, I definitely will.”

You smiled at him, leaning further over the counter to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you so much, Rafey!” You told him when you turned around to leave, waving bye to him.

“Anytime, angel!”

#angel!reader #tattoo artist rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb

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inkskinned · 29 minutes ago

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i've asked this question many times in my life, and it has never really worked, even when the answer was "no, of course not."

it's because it isn't really the right question. you aren't really asking them "are you mad at me." and i know because i am there and in your body - i can't handle people being upset with me. i feel useless and worthless when i mess up. i am panicky, wild, unreal. i grew up in an unsafe house - i am not just asking are you mad? i am also asking am i going to get hurt now? how can i prevent getting hurt? are you going to yell? are you going to ignore me? are you going to ignore my apologies? overly punish me? are you going to stop loving me now? have i ruined this? am i a bad person to you? do you hate me?

it is hard and it takes work and honestly the work doesn't always, like. actually work. sometimes i still ask are you mad? because i can see it in someone's face very quickly. i can sense it like rain or an earthquake: i had to as a child. i am very good at it.

it puts us in a bad spot. we are asking for reassurance and are you mad is not a reassurance question. we ask to help our feelings, but this question is framed in such a way that it is solely about their feelings, and usually... that is hard to answer. i've had someone ask me this a lot, and it can be tricky because the answer isn't always just no, and you don't want to be dishonest. maybe they aren't mad, they have resting bitch face. maybe they're just annoyed, and in about 5 minutes they'll literally forget what annoyed them. maybe they are mad and don't want to talk about it until they've cooled off. maybe they haven't really processed their feelings yet, and need some space to do so.

i have had someone ask me this when my answer was yes, that really hurt me. and while i knew she was asking for reassurance, it was really difficult to walk that line - how do i honor my own feelings without sending her into an anxiety spiral? the way this question is framed is that it is very isolating. i am responsible for my own feelings, but i am aware that honestly expressing those feelings might seriously injure you. and while i might be super hurt and angry, that doesn't mean i want you to be hurt. how do i say yes in that situation, then, even if it's true?

it sucks as as the person with anxious attachment i've had to do so much fucking work not to ask this. instead, i ask hey, i'm feeling insecure about the face you just made. was that about me? instead i say i am feeling distant from you. can we reconnect? is there something you want to talk about? instead i say i am feeling insecure, and need reassurance you're not upset with me. sometimes i drop the therapy speak and i say (to very trusted people): hey my idiot brain thinks im still in that bad house and you hate me and this friendship is ruined. can you tell me im being stupid please.

if all else fails, it's sometimes worth it to write down what you're feeling and turn it into an "i statement." i know i messed up, and i feel like you're still mad at me or i don't know why, but i feel like you've been upset with me. can we talk? and then open the floor to them for a calm, thoughtful conversation. ask for the reassurance and connection you actually need. your heart wants to be close to their heart, and something is in the way. it might not be anger, genuinely.

for the people that are good to keep, most of the time - they'll be willing to have these conversations with you, even if they are angry. maybe they didn't know how to bring something up with you. if you're calm and receptive, they feel like they can get the apology they were looking for. maybe they're mad about something personal they're going through. and if they aren't mad at you, maybe you can share why you're insecure about things like this (how you were raised, a bad ex), and get that connection and sense of love.

i have "codes" with partners and friends. they know i struggle with intrusive thoughts and this kind of anxiety. for one of them, i will just look at him and say i'm smelly and nobody likes me? and he says something ridiculous like yes i have been throwing darts at your face and we move the fuck on. another gives my hand a squeeze any time they need a little extra comfort or companionship, and i hang quietly back with them at parties. my friend has very similar social anxiety to me and we play a "catastrophe" game where one of us says a repeating thought like nobody likes me and the next says nobody likes me and they're making curses about me right now. this all makes me feel loved, trusted, cherished. this was all also worked for through communication, patience, and....

well i hate to say it lads. but the final ingredient in all of this is trust. from your end, not theirs. you can seek reassurance or closeness all day but if you do not trust their response or trust them to be honest with you... it will never stick. for people in your life that deserve it - that deserve communication and kindness - your trust is necessary. we cannot spend our lives hunting for ways they're trying to hurt us, trying to outfox the next trauma. i know our bodies want to. trust me.

we will be wrong about people. there will be a person that blindsides you in the future. i know, i'm sorry. but in the meantime, i keep coming back to a question i ask myself all the time: if i'm wrong about you, do i still want you in my life? if i can't (or shouldn't) trust this person when they say no i'm not mad, can i trust them at all? do i want them as a friend or partner? most of the time, these are people who have repeatedly proven their love, support, and empathy. shouldn't i trust that instead of, i don't know, my stupidevil brain that also thinks i'm some kind of supervillain?

i love you, i'm not mad at you. the thing you're searching for is that person's love or affection. this question won't give it to you. i know, i've tried it. try opening your heart instead.

They should make a "are you mad at me" that is taken neutrally and informationally every time and doesn't make everything worse when you ask it

#to be deleted

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kyri45 · 2 days ago

Note

Not me abusing the asks to both share my love for the bioparents AU AND rant about the panels because none of my friends are in the LMK fandom and I'm suffering here so TAKE MY LOVE AND APPRECIATION ABOUT YOUR ART I guess x)

So first of all

I am a SUCKER for that kind of leaning in frames I'm going to print that and plaster it on my wall THEY ARE EVERYTHING /hj

I almost jumped of my chair when this one popped up YOU FED US GOOD its so worth the angst train incoming. Of course the panels before and after were equally as amazing but if I start going about every single panel we're still here in three days AT THE VERY LEAST LOL

Of course this one made me laugh like please their little faces

Using that to point out how much I love ALLLLLLL the silly faces you put in your comics I'm munching on them every single time they're crushy like chips or something just. Nom nom. Yummy.

Poor Nesha (Nesha? Nezha? Neja? I have no idea on how to write his name I already forgor LMAO) needs to be payed more. He tries to save MK and ends up dealing with two lovesick teenagers demons who have no concept of time/place/occasion apparently. Poor him. He gets a pat on the head for his troubles

And of course just the "NOPE I'M KEEPING HIM" mode and honestly we should have seen it coming- Red son was planning to courtnap him and didn't sleep in the past 5 days so he's not having any bullshit YOU'RE NOT TAKING HIS NOODLE BOY AWAY-

Could bet he spent so long thinking about the cournapping in the 5 past days his brain just cannot process that yeah maybe you need to let him down you're just going to drag him in more troubles- Either that or he's just going full protective mode. Both options are good anyways sooooo :)

We stan a protective boyfriend in this house.

---

And finally I'm SOOOOO hyped about whatever is coming next like I know that technically we're supposed to suffer but please I climbed up the angst train so many times now I'm just enjoying it by that point lol. It'll just make the following fluff even more worth it

Also I cannot wait to see MK's plan about the contract I'm so curious I'm dying I love you boys but I really want the plot to progress you can go back to kissing later lol

Finally, thank you for creating this AU. It's stumbling randomly upon it on my tik tok fyp that dragged me into watching Lego Monkie Kid and really THANK YOU FOR THAT. It's such an amazing show I CANNOT BELIEVE I didn't discovered it sooner so really thank for having created this comic because else I could have missed LMK and that would be just saaaad

Fun fact: since I had never interacted with LMK the first time I read your comic, I for some reason thought Macaque was a female (and I probably would have thought the same of Wukong if he wasn't called... well, Wukong because I randomly stumbled upon the myth's Wikipedia page at some point in my life XD). The shock I felt when I heard Macaque for the first time in the show because his voice was soooooo not what I expected x) I'm still laughing at myself to this day

So yeah, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, and I can't wait to see what you're going to pull next :D Wish you allllll the best <3

(I can totally wait, of course, it's just a figure of speech. Take your time, I could wait forever for the next chapter)

ahaha thank you for such a lovely comment!! Glad the scene gived "MINE" vibes as I was planning ahah.

Youu're welcome! It's an honor to serve this fandom. *bows*

#shadowpeach bio parents au

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86espresso · 21 hours ago

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quinn hughes x drunk!gf!reader

sum ; you’re horny and drunk and sad and quinn won’t let you kidnap a stray animal

warnings ; no proper title because i suck, slightly suggestive but no smut, kissing (yay), casually brining up kids bc we’re locked in like that, distracted driving! gawd please don’t do that

a/n ; they should invent a quinn that is real

w/c ; 783

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

“Please. I’ll give you road head.”

Quinn laughed.

“Tempting. But still, no.”

You pout, turn away from him, and stare out the window. Watching the blurred lights flash in front of you made you dizzy, so you shut your eyes.

Quinn saying ‘no’ to you was a rarity, and you told yourself not to get used to it, but he’s always treated you like such a princess, it was hard not to. In this case, it was an alley cat you found and quickly made friends with after leaving the club and calling Quinn to come and pick you up. He had to pry you away from the poor cat and he tried to explain to you that you can’t just take a random cat off the streets, but you weren’t having any of it.

He also made sure that all of your friends had their safe rides home, ever the charge-taker, and you thought that that was very sexy of him. You would’ve jumped his bones right then if you weren’t so upset about the cat.

“C’mon, baby, don’t be upset,” he says, softly, putting his hand back on your thigh after you brushed it off. “What if he belonged to someone else?”

“It was a she. I checked.” You huff again, arms crossing half because you were cold and half because you wanted to show Quinn how upset you were. He notices the movement out of his periphery and turns the heat up.

“That’s gross.”

“You’re gross. Quinny, I really want that cat.”

He sighed. “Sweetheart, a cat is also a responsibility, don’t you think? And plus, it would take your attention off of me. Can’t have that.”

Quinn was joking but it flew over your head.

“That’s ridiculous, what will you do when we have kids?” You let his hand stay on your thigh this time, and it feels nice.

“Baby, that’s different and you know it.”

His car slows to a stop in the driveway of your home before you even notice that you’re there. He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to you fully.

“Tell you what, we’ll go to the store tomorrow and buy you one, yeah?” He reaches forward and places a hand on your cheek, which you gratefully nuzzle into. “You cool with that, sweet girl?” The use of ‘sweet girl’ brings your attention to his preposition. You pretend to think for a second before grinning at him.

“Yeah.” You turn your head to kiss his hand. “I’m cool with that.”

Quinn’s heart warms at the action before he notices the look in your eye. The one where you wanted—needed—a kiss desperately. He always waited for you to ask, though.

“Anything else you want, sweet girl?”

“Kiss me?”

And he complied immediately, not wanting to keep you away from anything else that you wanted. His lips met yours in a soft, closed mouthed kiss that sent you reeling for more.

His hand drops from your face and down your shoulders to your waist. Your hands cup his face, feeling the texture of his stubble under your fingertips, and it feels wonderful.

Your lips open slightly to ask Quinn to deepen the kiss and he does, his tongue slipping into your mouth and caressing your gently. One of your hands slips down to his shirt to grip it while you move to climb on his lap. You giggle and pull away when you realize that Quinn was pulling you into his lap at the same time and it caused you both to knock heads together. Quinn smiled at the sound. Luckily, neither of you were hurt.

His heart burst at the sight of you in front of him, drunk and giggly, snug and perfect in his lap. You lean in to connect your lips again and you slowly make out for a minute. You feel yourself getting needier at his warm hands on your back and in your hair and his intoxicating lips, so you grind down on him to get some sort of relief.

“This,” he pulls away abruptly and holds your hips in place so you stop moving them, “is what we’re not going to do tonight.”

“I can’t have anything,” you grumble, your brows furrowing at him rejecting you twice.

He laughs, his lips moving to the apple of your cheek.

“You’re drunk, baby,” kiss. “My girl,” his kisses trail to the tip of your nose, “will get everything she wants,” kiss to your cheek, “when she’s all fresh and sober,” kisses on your jaw and back to your lips.

You hold out your pinkie indignantly and he laughs, connecting his with yours and bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #ellie writes 🙂‍↔️

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sugarushwriting · 19 hours ago

Text

cherry popper — jake

jake x reader

getting your cherry popped by the sweet, popular athletic boy. who is also your best friend

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

[sorry not proof read]

“jake i’m a virgin.”

“okay? good for you? am i supposed to go running?”

your eyes never looked away from jake sim. athletic, popular and smart. triple kill.

and he was your best friend.

studying. that’s all it was supposed to be. jake sim, your best friend, helping you with your college physics course. then it somehow turned into a human anatomy lesson. all because jake couldn’t leave his phone alone for 5 seconds and was sexting a girl during the study sessions.

“jake—yah! would you pay attention? i cannot fail this exam!” you scolded, slamming your pencil down on your notebook.

jake cleared his throat, awkwardly and embarrassingly putting down his cell phone, screen to the table. “sorry.” he apologized with a mumble.

“what’s so interesting about whoever you’re texting that you’d rather do that than help your bestie pass her physics exam?” you pouted, looking at jake with a frown and puppy dog eyes.

“oh well you see—,” jake began, but then his phone buzzed once before. he went to pick up the phone, but you snatched it before he could.

“wait, you—,” he didn’t even get the chance to finish his sentence of, “wait, you might not want to.”

you screeched, face screwing in disgust as you threw his phone to the couch. then, you whipped your head to jake in disbelief, huffing.

“i can’t believe you! you seriously are sexting another girl while helping me?”

“hey, i’m sorry okay? but she sent me—,”

you held up your hand to stop him. “don’t want to hear it jake.” you sighed. “can you stop being a horn dog for like, two hours? i know you have a high sex drive, but i was hoping soccer practice would’ve tired you out.”

you weren’t mad at his sex drive. heck, if he needed to fuck like his grades depended on it, then so be it. you weren’t the one to stop him. but it did annoy you he couldn’t just turn it off long enough to help you study.

“if you can’t focus, i’ll ask someone else to help.”

“like who? jay?” jake laughed, joking.

“heeseung.” you smirked, knowing heeseung was just as smart as jake. and although jake and heeseung were friends, those two also had a competitive streak against one another. especially when it came to academics and girls.

you also knew jake was protective over you. all the boys did, but his was extra. you knew he probably warned the guys that you were off limits.

jake scoffed. “absolutely not, he’ll help you pass with an a minus at max.”

“and you?” you asked crossing your arms.

jake smiled. “i can get you that a plus.”

“jake, you can’t make miracles happen. i just need a minimum b average.”

“you know i like to go above and beyond, baby.” he winked, causing you to laugh.

“let’s just get back to work, okay?”

“okay. only because my phone disappeared in the couch.” he pouted. “she’s not gonna be happy i left her dry.”

you waved it off. “pretty sure she has a box full of toys to help her out.”

“do you?” jake asked.

your head slowly turned to jake as you was writing down a problem. “do i what?” you looked at him confused.

“have a box full of toys?”

your eyes went wide. “oh, uh, let’s focus on the studying!” you rushed out and turned back to your text book, aggressively poking at jake’s book.

after that, during the study session, jake would steal glances at you, wondering if his best friend did have a box full of toys. or even at least one toy.

jake has known you since you were six. growing up next door to one another in australia, it was fun.

beach days, arcade days, walking to school and back home together. watching him freak out over bugs that you had to be the one to get rid of.

you told jake everything. well, almost everything. he was open and free about his sex life with you. however, you weren’t the same.

jake can’t recall you telling him about times you’ve been with a guy in a sexual way. let alone even kissed a guy.

an hour and a half passed, before you two went off topic once again. your brain was fried, and you couldn’t imagine looking at another problem.

“im done for the night, i cant.” you closed your book dramatically, leaning against your couch, head thrown back.

“have you kissed a guy yet?”

you lifted your head. “jake, where did that even come from?”

jake shrugged. “just thinking about how you know so much about my sex life, but i know nothing about yours. let alone if you’ve even kissed a guy.”

“i just don’t find the need to tell you.” you mumbled, picking invisible lint from your leg.

“but why? i thought we were best friends?”

“jake, we are. there’s just never anything to tell, okay?”

“okay so tell me,” jake began, turning his body to face yours, leaning his side against the couch, “have you kissed a boy?”

“of course jake.”

“who? where? when?”

“now you sound like me and my girl friends gossiping.”

“i can be that if that’s what makes you more comfortable.”

you chuckled. “it’s fine jake.” you got comfortable leaning on your side to face him. “my first kiss was in middle school when i went on holiday with my family. second kiss was in our upper years,”

“with who?” jake’s eyebrows raised.

you smacked your lips together, “uh, yang jeongin.”

jake gasped, then laughed. “he insisted he wasn’t even going to kiss a girl until he got married!”

“yeah well,” you shrugged.

“is that all?” jake asked.

you looked down, the floor suddenly looking fun. “well, no. there’s one more.”

“who is it? when? tell me!” jake begged, getting on his knees, grabbing your hands in his.

you sighed rolling your eyes. looking at jake you said, “it was heeseung, just two months ago. more of a make out than just a kiss.”

jake let go of your hands. not mad at you, but shocked and surprised. but he was mad at heeseung as he told his friends you were clearly off limits.

“why heeseung?”

“it was at that party you dragged me to, jake. i was bored, you left me to go hook up with a girl, so heeseung kept me company.”

jake stared at you, unblinking. “so what? i’m not around and he takes his chance to get in your pants?”

“jake it’s not like that! all we did was make out, okay? he didn’t want to go further, i didn’t want to go further. it was just for fun.”

“who else knew?”

“sunghoon and jungwon. but i begged them not to say anything.”

jake scoffed in disbelief. “do you promise that’s all you did?”

“yes jake. i don’t understand why it bothers you so much! i haven’t opened my legs like a slut for your friends, okay?”

“i don’t mean it like that—,”

you stood up, now angry for some reason. “it’s getting late. you should go. i’m tired and i am sure you are too from practice. thank you for helping me.”

you walked off to your bathroom, knowing jake can let himself out.

and that he did. he walked out, ready to confront his best friend, forgetting about his cellphone, until he got to his shared apartment with his 2 other roommates, sunghoon and jay.

“is heeseung coming over?” jake asked.

jay and sunghoon were playing video games in the living room. jay answered, “not that i’m aware of? he had a late practice then a study group right after.”

jake huffed. “sunghoon, i have a bone to pick with you!”

“what did i do?”

“you knew heeseung made out with my best friend and didn’t tell me?”

jay gasped like a teen girl. “no!”

sunghoon rolled his eyes, “it wasn’t my business to tell! honestly, it’s none of your business too. just because you’re open about your sex life about other girls to her doesn’t mean she has to be the same way.”

“bullshit! it is my business.”

“you’re her best friend, not her boyfriend. she can be around any other guy without you butting in.” sunghoon stated. “even if that means it’s heeseung.”

jake kept quiet, and just stormed off to his room in a mood. as he laid on his bed, that’s when he realized he left his phone at your place.

he slapped his hands over his face and groaned.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

the next day, you took jake his phone to his apartment. sunghoon answered the door as he was on his way to the ice rink.

you tried to hand it over to sunghoon but he shook his head. “you give it to him. i’m in a rush, and i am sure jake has some apologies to give.” sunghoon patted your shoulder before leaving you in the door way.

you took off your shoes, making your way to jake’s room. you knocked twice, and heard a faint ‘come in.’

jake didn’t even attempt to look up from his bed. “sunghoon if you’re here to just scold me before you leave for the day don’t bother. jay already scolded me about my actions.” then he went on to say that he knew he owed you an apology.

“can you say that a bit louder, i didn’t have my phone recording?” you chuckled.

jake sat up quickly from bed. since he was laying on his stomach, he sat up on all fours in doggy style looking at you like a kid who just woke up for christmas.

“you’re here?”

“well first, you left your phone at my apartment. but now i believe there’s an apology to be owed to me?”

jake nodded, getting off his bed, to walk to you as you stood in his door. he apologized for getting upset about you kissing heeseung.

“whoever you have sex with is none of my business, okay?”

“jake, i—,”

jake didn’t let you finish as he pulled you into a tight hug. “i’m sorry. you can slut yourself out to whomever.”

you laughed, hugging jake back, patting his back. when the hug ended, you handed jake his phone. “i wonder how mad she is.”

jake’s phone battery was at 0%. “well, i guess we’ll find out after it charges.” he laughed.

you and jake decided to watch a movie, in the meantime ‘sidelined: the qb and me.’

“ugh, so cheesy and cliche.”

you elbowed jake. “i like cheesy and cliche!”

he pinched your cheek. “of course you do.”

you stretched when the movie ended. “i could use a nap. all i dreamt about was physics.” you shuddered.

“nap it is!” jake said and grabbed you to throw you over his shoulder, walking you to his room.

he threw you on his bed, climbing in next to you.

that’s when you said, “jake, i’m a virgin.”

“okay? good for you? am i supposed to go running?” jake laughed. “how does that affect me?”

“well, i was only telling you because of earlier.”

“oh.” jake realized. “my bad. but still, it’s none of my business who you have sex with, unless it’s me.”

you nearly choked on air. “and just why would i have sex with you?”

“best friends have sex all the time.” jake said.

you both were laying on your backs, looking up at the ceiling during this conversation.

“jake not best friends. maybe friends with benefits.”

“and we can’t be both?”

you sat up, looking down at your friend with confusion written across your face.

“jake? where is this coming from?”

“baby, if you think i never thought about having sex with you not once since we were teens, you are mistaken.”

“jake—,”

“why else would i run off my friends and other guys?”

“then why else would you have sex with other girls if you so called wanted me in bed?”

jake shrugged. “my dick could only take so much of my hand, babe.”

you groaned, “jake!” and fell back on his bed. this time, he sat up. he rolled to his side, palm on your thigh.

shivers went up and throughout your body.

truth be told, you may have thought about sex with jake once or twice. it didn’t really bother your head until you heard a girl in your class stating he once made her come so hard she passed out.

you wanted to know what that felt like. or if it was even possible.

“i heard it’s painful.” you sighed truthfully, turning your head to look into jake’s eyes. as usual, he had on his puppy dog look, thick lips pouting.

“for some babe, yes it is.” jake said, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. his thumb then glided softly from your cheek to your bottom lip.

“how badly?” you asked in a whisper, the tension between you two thickening.

“it just depends on the girl, and if she’s having sex with the right partner.” jake replied softly, his eyes flicking between your own and your lips. “for me, making sure my girl is comfortable and relaxed. making sure i touch her in the right places.”

all while talking, jake’s fingertips ghosted along your thigh, hips, sides, up the side of your breasts. your skin cluttered with goosebumps, your breathing fastening, both you and jake breathing heavily, just inches away from each other.

with one last flick from your eyes to your lips, jake slowly leaned in for a kiss, capturing your lips in his.

and more than you could imagine, his lips were so soft and thick. and he didn’t straightly use his tongue. the kiss was so slow and sensual, building up the tension between both of you.

jake carefully hovered over you, so you were flat on your back, your hands raising to wrap around his neck. jake’s right hand went to push down your pants and underwear as far as he could.

you giggled removing your lips. “moving quite fast there, huh?”

jake smiled, “can’t help it baby, been waiting too damn long to be inside you.”

jake kissed your lips once more, before scooting down, taking off your bottoms completely, not even bothering to warn you.

his tongue met your core, and you immediately let out a loud gasp, at the unknown feeling. “oh,” you whispered out.

it didn’t feel bad, but it felt weird. foreign.

“don’t worry baby, it’ll feel good. give me a second.” jake said, and went back to your core, using his tongue, lips, teeth, and soon his finger.

“oh!” you squealed with a gasp, then moaned. your lower half began squirming, causing jake to hold you down by your hips with his left hand.

with him holding you down, the intensity amplified, and your hand went to his soft hair. jake added a second finger, your leg resting over his shoulder.

“too much, jake.” you sighed out.

“gotta stretch you out. im pretty thick, honey.”

“that doesn’t help, jake!” you groaned, in-between fussing at him and how good he was making you feel.

“to be fair, i asked if you had any toys.” jake chuckled, fingers still buried in you. only he was sitting up, eyes looking into yours intensely.

“i thought you were joking around.” you moaned as he worked his beautiful, lengthy fingers inside of you. you could almost imagine how his veins looked on his hands.

“you still haven’t answered my question, honey.” jake said, his fingers stilling inside of you—deep and angled.

“fuck!” you moaned, annoyed he stopped. “yes jake, i have one fucking toy! now keep it moving, please.” you begged, and jake chuckled.

“anything for my bestie.”

jake worked his fingers inside of you, adding a third for a while, getting you used to the sensation. weirdly, not once did it not feel good.

jake could feel you getting wetter and wetter and knew it was perfect timing. he quickly undressed himself, then finished undressing you.

“want me to wear a condom?” jake asked and you nodded. jake grabbed a condom from his bedside table, and put it on with quick ease.

you closed your eyes in anticipation of it hurting. jake noticed, and grabbed your chin in his hand.

“look at me honey.” he said softly and you opened your eyes slowly.

he leaned down, so your noses touched, his tip waiting to enter you. he kissed your forehead once.

“don’t wait for the pain, it’ll hurt more. try to relax for me, okay? eyes on me.”

jake kept his hand on your chin, your eyes looking into his. foreheads touching, jake eased in you slowly, you biting your lower lip trying to not scrunch your face.

“it’s okay, you’re doing so well for me baby.” jake cooed, kissing your lips. “doing so well for your jakey.”

you let out a deep breath, your hands resting around his neck and shoulders, your legs open as he laid in between them, buried. your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders.

jake soon finished pushing himself all the way in, causing a low moan of pain to push past your lips. your eyes snapped shut.

“jake, i can’t.” you cried.

“hey, look at me.” jake ordered and you did once more. “eyes on me, okay? you’re okay, i have you. it’s gonna hurt for a bit, but i’ll take care of you.”

“jake but—,”

“do you trust me?” jake asked, caressing your cheek and you nodded.

jake attached his lips to yours, one hand playing with your breast and nipples, as he slowly, inch by inch pushed in and out of you.

the sensation of him playing with your boobs and nipples distracted from his dick rocking in and out of you.

soon you hadn’t even noticed jake was able to pull out to the tip and push back in, your wetness leaking between the two of you.

“my baby just needed some kisses and sweet talk.” jake mumbled against your lips.

jake’s head rested against your neck, and his thrusts became faster and deeper if possible. but it felt good.

jake became a moaning mess, his moans and low growls seeming to turn you on more. he just started throwing praises your way, rolling easily off his tongue.

“good girl. so good for your best friend, huh? always wanted to have your best friend fuck you? not as innocent as i thought.”

jake’s next position had him on his knees, you flat on your back, your legs and thighs resting against the front of his body.

with how powerful his thrusts became, you were so glad no one was here because the sounds of skin slapping was so loud.

your hands reached to grip anything and everything it could. pillows, sheets, jake. jake had a tight hold on your hips as he began to pound into you, literally.

“jake!” you squealed, and felt your stomach tightening. “jake!”

“that’s it baby, say my name, over,” thrust, “and over,” thrust, “and over until your voice goes out.” thrust.

you let out a loud—scream? moan? growl?

your body began shaking afterwards, jake bullying himself back into you after your cunt just kept pushing him out.

soon, jake went still inside of you, a loud moan coming out of his own lips, his grip on your sides tightened.

it felt so hot in his room, both sweaty from the sex. tension was still high, and you knew no way things could go back to the way it was prior to this.

jake removed his dick from you, still hard and wanting a second round. but he knew you had to get some rest before even thinking about another round.

he looked down on the condom, noting no blood, and removed it before throwing it to the trash next to the bed.

“at least you used the trash for something.” you joked. jake laughed knowing you always got after him for his lack of cleanliness.

your heart began thumping hard at the thought of what happens after this. meanwhile jake’s heart was thumping because his body was ready for round 2.

before either of you could say anything, a knock came to your door.

“yo, horn dogs! jay brought us food!” heeseung yelled then laughed.

ah shit.

#fanfiction #enhypen x reader #engene #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen #enhypen au #reader x jake #jake sim #jake sim smut #jake smut #enhypen smut #virginity loss #cherry popper

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omamervt · 19 hours ago

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From my experience on dating apps, I'll tell you that there are a depressingly large number of people out there with no taste.

I wanna be clear, I don't mean BAD taste. I mean they never learned how to identify their own interests or form an opinion on something.

I am exclusively interested in women, so for YEARS, I assumed this was a symptom of the patriarchy, that women were hesitant to share their opinions because they didn't want their thoughts on a TV show or movie or game to be turned into an argument or a test to see if they were a "real fan." But the more I tried to draw out any kind of opinion, the more I realized that they just didn't have any.

Most "animation enthusiasts" exclusively watch whatever Disney throws in theaters, MAYBE some Nickelodeon or Cartoon Network if you're lucky. They've never even watched Spider-Verse or Puss in Boots 2. Forget Love Death and Robots or Nimona, you're lucky if they have more than a single sentence to say about How to Train Your Dragon. Hell, you're lucky if they have more than 3 words to say about Little Mermaid or Lion King, and women in my preferred age range probably grew up watching those!

Most TV show enthusiasts seem to find one or two shows they like, and then never watch anything else ever again. And that show is usually Friends, The Office, or Parks & Rec.

Readers will claim to love a book series so much, but it can be like pulling teeth trying to get a favorite character.

And to be clear this isn't an issue with people who have opinions. There's no issue getting information about what someone LIKED about a story when they've written incredibly graphic gay erotica about the main character and the villain's favorite minion (I was so desperate for her approval and devastated when she didn't like me back).

A lot of people merely like what they think they're supposed to like and want what they think they're supposed to want, and are uninterested in looking any deeper.

i seriously cannot comprehend the sex drive that makes one exclusively horny for captain america looking movie hunks or the victorias secret angel archetype of tall underweight women with generically pretty faces in bikinis. that shit is like carbon monoxide or infrasonic noise to my libido like my sexual senses cant even clock it

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stevesgother · 2 days ago

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Chalkboard Hearts - Pt II

Pairing - Teacher!Steve Harrington x Fem!Mom!Reader

WC - 4.3k

Contains - slow burn, strangers to friends to lovers, single motherhood, kindergarten teacher AU, school field trip, awkward bashful stevie, ONE use of y/n bc the story called for it sorry i don’t make the rules, mention of parent death

AN - here’s part two! I’m so thankful for the love and support you all showed on the first part and continue to show on all my works. It means so much that you guys enjoy my silly little delusions that i happened to turn into silly little stories!

Much love ~ emma

“Well, she’s excelling in English and reading, but struggling a bit with our math unit,” your daughter’s new kindergarten teacher informs you across a maplewood desk clad with plenty of miscellaneous trinkets; Abbey sits on a plastic chair next to you. Normally, it’s not recommended to bring your child to a parent/teacher conference, but with the cost of hiring a sitter lately, this was your only feasible option.

“That being said,” he continues optimistically, “I have plenty of practice worksheets I can send home with you, and if she’s still not getting it in a few weeks, I'm more than willing to stay after hours to work with her.”

You cringe at the idea of him working overtime for you or Abbey, even if it’s literally his job.

“That’s very generous, Mr. H, but–”

He cuts you off, speaking your name in a reassuring tone, “I promise, I’m happy to. It’s not as if I have anywhere else to be,” he chuckles, gesturing to the empty room where you sit.

He senses your hesitation but continues anyway, “Look, I’ll give you the worksheets, and check back in next week. Deal?” he’s clearly asking you, but Abbey beats you to the punch, “Can I use my crayons?”

“Obviously,” he phrases it as though he would expect nothing less.

Abbey gives a barely noticeable little pump of her fist. She’s wriggling around in her seat and you can tell she’s getting antsy with all the ‘grownup talk’. Steve rises first and sticks his hand out for you to shake and when you return the gesture, he takes your palm in both of his.

“Hey, Abbey’s doing great, seriously. You have nothing to worry about,” maybe you look anxious at the prospect of your child struggling in a subject because you somehow weren’t attentive enough, or maybe he can just read you like a book. Either way, his hands on you are dizzying.

“I appreciate that,” you offer him a tender smile as he releases you from his grasp. “What do you say, Abbey? Wanna head home?”

She immediately deflates at the question. School has been in session for barely two months, and all she can seem to talk about is her new teacher. The car rides home and dinners at the table are spent telling tales of his Star Wars impressions, or how he hangs up every picture he’s given on the corkboard behind his desk– how he lets the class have extra recess time if they behave all day long, and how he ‘never ever’ raises his voice.

You can always picture it so easily. There’s something naturally whimsical about him, and anyone can tell he was made for this career. There’s a distant fear that the infatuation Abbey seems to have with him is caused by the absence of her own father, and you wish constantly to be able to give her that– to be two parents for the price of one– but as much as she adores you, there’s always going to be a void in her life that you alone can’t fill. It makes you ache to dwell on it for too long.

“Can’t we stay just a little bit longer?” She pleads with glistening eyes.

“I’m sure Mr. H wants to get home too, Ab,” at that, her features twist into a pout.

Steve kneels in front of her, “I’m gonna see you on Monday though, right?” She tearfully nods, “Good,” he grins and gives her hair a little ruffle when he stands.

“You two have a good weekend, and drive home safe, okay?”

You send him a shy wave, “You too, Mr. H,”

As you’re making your way down the hallway towards the exit with Abbey's hand clasped tightly in yours, you hear a voice along with heavy footfall echo after you, “Wait!--”

When you turn around, Steve’s lightly jogging towards you with a flyer in his hand, “I forgot to give you this,” he pants when he catches up. He hands you a colorful paper advertising a class field trip to Spiller Farm– an orchard a few miles outside of town.

He runs a hand through his hair, mussed from a stressful day doing exactly that, “We still need a few more chaperones, I wanted to ask if you’d be able to?”

Abbey’s demeanor becomes instantly lighter as she begins tugging on your arm, “Please, mommy?!” she begs, as if she’d even have to. “Definitely! Let me double check my schedule and make sure I’m not working,” you smile kindly, “I’ll let you know on Monday when I drop her off,”

For a split second, Steve considers just giving you his number before he thinks better of it. You barely know him, for Christ’s sake. I’d look like a complete creep, He thinks.

“Y-yeah– that’s fine,” he winces at his own awkwardness, “Trip’s on Wednesday,” again feeling like a blundering idiot, as the flyer he just handed you clearly states as much.

If you notice though, you don’t mention it. You simply say,

“See you Monday,”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Abbey seemed to be in better spirits by the time you made it home and popped a frozen pizza into the oven. You’ve always envied the rebound rate of her sour moods; maybe you should take a page out of her book.

She sits at the table playing with two perfectly groomed Barbie Dolls. Her other toys were a different story– baby doll’s with botched haircuts, stuffed animals with unidentifiable stains and the occasional hole, but her Barbies were always considered with the utmost care a five-year-old could offer.

“Mr. H says his favorite pizza is pepperoni,” she says from where she sits behind you, “is that what kind we’re having?”

“No, silly goose, you don’t like pepperoni,” you remind her, “you always say it’s too spicy,”

“Oh, okay,” she sounds indifferent; she trusts you to remember what she likes and dislikes on her behalf, sparing no room in her growing brain for such trivial facts.

“Can I have four slices?” She asks sweetly. You hum and pretend to give it some thought before bargaining, “How about I give you one slice first, and then if you’re still hungry, you can have more?”

She nods, taking the bait. You eventually make it to the table, plates in hand, and eat the greasy slices in a comfortable silence until Abbey asks,

“What kind of pizza did my daddy like?”

It’s not the first time she’s asked questions about Jeremy, and you know it won’t be the last, but your heart still sinks a little every time she does.

“Your dad liked hawaiian pizza, that was his favorite,”

“‘ha-way-en’?” she mispronounces, “what’s that?” her little features contort with confusion.

You correct her pronunciation and reply, “Well, technically It’s a state, but hawaiian pizza has ham and pineapple on it,”

Her confusion morphs to disgust and she giggles, “Ew!”

“I know,” her laughter is contagious, “I don’t like it either,” you wave your hand in front of your nose in a ‘P.U’ gesture.

Her father is no longer a topic of conversation after that. It was always like this– the questions generally mundane and inconsequential, not realizing that the images she’s conjuring are covered in cobwebs and dust; buried deep in the forgotten corners of your subconscious.

When you’re a kid, nothing holds that kind of weight. Petty things like broken toys or an early bedtime are the most of her worries and memories aren’t so burdening– yet another thing you envy of her youth.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The next few days go by without a hitch– school, ballet class and homemade dinners every night– that is until Wednesday morning when you wake up and are immediately confronted with the sun cascading through your curtains, and your alarm that's been beeping for thirty minutes longer than it normally does.

Abbey is straddling your lap and vigorously shaking your shoulders, “Mom! Mom, we have to go!” The panic you feel outweighs the embarrassment of being woken up late by your own child, and you rush to slip on a pair of jeans and the first sweater you make out on top of your hamper.

A sideways glance at the clock tells you that you have exactly three minutes to get out the door– it appears that your go-to look lately is bags under your eyes and your hair scooped up into the nearest claw clip. The trend continues today, though you’re able to dab on a little concealer while Abbey puts her boots on in the mudroom.

You’re both shocked and amazed that she’s dressed– her outfit even mostly coordinating. Unfortunately, the remains of what was supposed to be a ham and cheese sandwich are littered all over the counter. Crackers for lunch today it is.

Grabbing her mostly empty backpack, you ask, “You got everything, Ab?”

“Yep!” She shouts, mostly because she was already outside and standing in the driveway, waiting for you to unlock the car for her.

When you get to the school, several golden buses are parked in a single file line and opening their doors for dozens of children to pour in. A little mortified, you realize you’re the last parent here, and silently pray that there’ll still be a seat for you and Abbey on the bus.

You’re searching for Steve, albeit unconsciously. You aren’t acquainted with any of the other teachers, and he’s your life raft in this sea of chaos and PTA soccer moms. You don’t have to look for very long though, before your name is being shouted from a few feet away on the tarmac. Grasping Abbey’s wrist, you shoulder your way over to where he stands waiting.

“Hey–I’m so sorry, I somehow slept through my alarm this morning,” you blush and muss Abbey’s hair, “this little gremlin woke me up, actually,”

She shakes your hand off her head, “Hey!” she frowns.

“You’re good, promise. I saved you a seat, and Abbey,” he redirects his attention, “Clarissa B. asked to sit with you, is that okay?”

She’s too excited to bother responding, instead dashing inside in an attempt to find her friend. You hear a muffled warning of ‘no running!’, eliciting a shared laugh between the two of you.

“After you,” Steve steps back to let you in first. You spot the only available seat which is dead in the front of the bus– and when you sit down, Steve sits down next to you.

“Well, uh,” he scratches his neck nervously when you scoot to make room for him, “I saved us a seat. Is what I meant.”

“It’s okay,” you give a reassuring breath of laughter, “I don’t mind,”

“Right,” he clears his throat and you feel the bus shift gears to make its way towards the

orchard.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You’ve never been this close to Steve before and right away the space is enveloped with whatever cologne he’s wearing and the spearmint scent of the gum he’s been absentmindedly chewing. He smells of cedar and something musky; cinnamon and spice. You notice now all of the freckles and moles that form constellations over his forearms and neck.

When the silence between you becomes a little too stiff– pleasantries about the weather having subsided nearly ten minutes ago– he asks, “Have you ever been to Spiller Farm?”

“Yeah I– I have,” you say, unsure why you’re suddenly nervous, “My parents used to take me every year when I was Abbey’s age to go apple picking. Have you?”

“Oh, no,” he’s fixated on his hands folded in his lap, shaking his head, “this’ll be my first time, I actually grew up in Indiana,”

“Indianapolis?” You question curiously.

He gave a humorless laugh, “I wish. It was a uh…much smaller town,” he finally looks at you then, faces much closer than you realized in the cramped bus seat, “I came to Maine for college, liked it so much I guess I didn’t want to leave.” This time when he smiles, it looks genuine.

He clears his throat and continues, “Abbey tells me you work in a hospital– RN?

It was remarkable how much you knew about each other despite having very little conversations that didn’t surround Abbey; thanks to your oversharing kindergartener.

You wish that you could tell him you were a nurse, feeling increasingly embarrassed at your lack of a college education, but instead you reply, “Reception,” with a tight lipped smile. Having Abbey so young, and doing it alone at that, left no time for degrees or prestigious jobs.

You expect a sympathetic expression in response, maybe even distaste, but you find only sincerity etched across his features when he says, “That’s really neat, I could never do that. Hospitals they…kinda give me the heebie jeebies,”

“It’s definitely not for the faint of heart,” you agree, “I have so many crazy stories,”

“Well, I’d love to hear them sometime,” he smiles at you so tenderly that it makes you want to disintegrate and float away among the air that breezes through the open bus windows.

“Yeah, I’d like that”, you say, distracted by the hazel flecks in what you had previously thought were brown eyes. Luckily, the distinct jolt of tire on gravel bails you out of more awkward silence and before you know it, you’re filing off the bus and breathing in the scent of freshly picked apples and cow manure.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You foolishly forget that Steve isn’t just here with you and your daughter on his own accord, and does actually have to do his job of wrangling children and organizing the day's activities. He proceeds to do a headcount, looking like he means business with one hand propped on his hip and a clipboard gripped in the other.

He captures everyone’s attention with ease as he does a quick call and response gesture, ‘Clap, Clap, Clap Clap Clap,’ you’re shocked at how efficiently it works to halt their chattering.

“Good morning, everyone!” He beams and the class responds with a choir of high-pitched ‘Good Morning, Mr. H!’’s, he continues, “Alright, so, I’m going to be splitting everyone into small groups. Each parent will have about five kiddos, and I’ll just be floating around to make sure everything goes smoothly. Sound like a plan?”

Everyone agrees in a sea of nods and murmurs and the kids bounce with anticipation– hoping that they might get placed in the same group as their friends. Finally, you hear your name called and Steve pairs you with five children: your own daughter, her friend Clarissa B., a little boy named Beck, his younger sister and a timid little girl named Sophia. You breathe a sigh of relief that you hadn’t realized you were holding when it becomes obvious that all the kids you were assigned seemed to be fairly reserved and not too rowdy.

You lead your little flock over to the barn, where several farm hands are waiting to assist the children in petting the cows, pigs and other various animals. There are red buckets full of pellets that you assume is feed for the goats scattered along the ground, and you can practically feel Abbey buzzing with excitement beside you. She had been begging you for a pet practically the second after she said her first word.

Steve makes his way over to you from the rows of apple trees in the orchard section of the farm while you supervise the kids holding their tiny palms out to the ravenous livestock– slightly anxious that one of them might lose a finger.

You feel a strong hand on your shoulder, “C’mon, don’t wanna pet a dirt-covered sheep?” Steve quips when he reaches you.

“Not particularly,” you huff a laugh, “I was never really a ‘farm animal’ person. I think a dog would suit me just fine,”

“Do you have one?”

“Oh, no. Abbey’s been asking me for one since she was, like, two? I think? I just don’t have the time, you know?”

“Believe me, I get it.” He seems pensive when he responds, looking out over the expanse of the farm, “I never had a pet growing up, either,”

Before you have the chance to express your remorse, Abbey calls, “Mommy, look! Come pet the goat!”

“Be right there!” You call back with thinly veiled reluctance.

“You heard the girl,” Steve pats your shoulder where his hand had been as if to say ‘Go on’. He has an amused if not smug expression when you turn to face him.

“Why don’t you go pet the goat, Mr. H,”

“Hey, she asked for you! Don’t shoot the messenger,” He laughs, “Don’t worry, I'll take over supervising for a minute,” he sends you a wink and it makes your stomach drop, just a bit, like when you miss a step on a staircase but catch yourself just before you fall.

A similar feeling strikes you when you actually do fall, slipping on a particularly slick patch of mud and landing flat on your back. It temporarily knocks the wind out of you, but the sensation is quickly replaced by a white hot embarrassment. Steve’s at your side in an instant, albeit poorly concealing a laugh, “Oh my God, are you okay?” he asks, a little bewildered as he kneels down to help you up and getting his own jeans muddy in the process. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind.

You groan, out of discomfort or humiliation, you’re not sure. He wraps two calloused hands around your biceps and hoists you up with a surprising amount of strength. By the time you’re on your feet again, Abbey’s also rushing towards you.

“Mommy, you have mud on your butt,” she giggles. Always Captain Obvious, your daughter.

“Thanks baby, I see that,”

She’s trying to shrug off her jacket to tie around your waist, even if she finds your current predicament rather amusing, but you stop her before she can get very far, “Keep it, Ab, it’s chilly out. I’m okay,” you falsely promise.

“Here, you can have mine,” Steve takes his windbreaker off to hand to you.

“Oh– you don’t have to do that, Steve,” feeling guilty that he’s even offering, “I’ll get mud all over it– and won’t you be cold?”

“Nah,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “I run warm, plus I hear they just came out with these cool things that clean your clothes for you when they get dirty– washing machines I think they’re called?”

You playfully smack his arm and he smirks, “Don’t get smart, Harrington,” taking the jacket from him nonetheless, “Thank you. I’ll wash it for you tonight,”

He shoves his hands in his pockets after you take the garment, unsure what to do with them now that they’re empty, “Don’t mention it,” and there's that damned smile again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You promised Abbey yesterday that you could pick a bag of apples to make a pie together, so once everyone is satisfied with the time spent at the barn, you all make your way to the dozens of rows of trees, adorned with fresh, bright red fruit for plucking.

“What kind of apples do you think, Ab?” you look down to ask her, “They have Gala, Empire, Granny Smith,” you read off the signs marking each aisle.

“Whichever is the most juicy!”

“That would probably be HoneyCrisp, those are over this way, I think,” you say, putting a hand on her shoulder to guide her in the right direction.

Abbey does more eating than picking, leaving you with all the heavy lifting, despite the numerous ‘No Eating’ signs. You just can’t bring yourself to stop her– not when she looks at you with so much unbridled joy. Eating the apples straight off the tree had always been your favorite part, too.

A row over from the one you were in, you watch as Steve lifts another student onto his shoulders so he can pick the specific apple he was jumping for, and you have to fight the corners of your lips from quirking up into a smile.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

There was a small wooden cabin near the gravel parking lot that doubled as a gift shop, and the shelves were stocked full of handmade knick knacks, glass bottles of maple syrup, and all sorts of treats. It smelled wonderfully of freshly baked fritters and cinnamon.

“Can I get this candy apple, mom?”

“I don’t know, baby, we have to make sure it doesn’t have any peanuts,”

Petulant whining follows before a cheerful, silvery voice declares, “Don’t worry, dear, It doesn’t.” When you turn to find the source, you’re met with an older, stout woman with grey hair adorned in a bandana– the owner, you presume.

“Can I, mommy?”

“Alright, okay. Put it on the counter with the bag of apples,”

She makes a beeline to the wooden counter, barely able to reach over the top as she slams the treat down, sporting a toothy grin.

“Thank you–” you search for her nametag but find nothing.

She fills in the blank for you, “Dorothy,” her lips wobble just a little when she smiles, face wrinkling from decades of laughter and grinning.

“Any time, honey. You two take care now,” she says when she finishes checking out your items. She wags a finger at Abbey, “You be good for your momma, missy,”

“Yes ma’am,” Abbey replies politely.

She skips in front of you contentedly, apple in hand, out of the shop and towards the rest of the waiting students.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Back on the bus, Abbey naps against your chest despite being slightly too big and the candy apple she begged you for is now getting stuck to your sleeve, but you don’t dare disturb her. Steve sits beside you again and this time the silence is much more tolerable; both of you exhausted from a day of governing twenty children, give or take.

“Abbey, uhm, told me about her dad,” he says timidly, nervous that the subject might cross a boundary, “I wanted to offer my condolences.”

You’d already resigned yourself to the fact that you’d have this conversation eventually– especially with Abbey being school aged now.

“I appreciate that,” you reassure, “It was a long time ago, I don’t think Abbey even remembers anything about him.” You realize in real time that this is the reason her questioning of her father has increased in the past few weeks.

He nods and pauses before he continues; contemplating, “Can I ask what happened?”

You turn only your head to look at him and he clarifies, “Abbey only said he ‘went to heaven’,”

“He, uh– car accident.” you answer simply, returning your gaze back to the crown of Abbey’s head resting peacefully on your chest, “She was just about a year old,”

The expression twisting his features urges you to reiterate that you’re okay– you’re both okay. You’ve had nearly six years to reconcile the loss of Jeremy; you’ve mourned, you’ve grieved and you’ve placed his memory tight in a sector of your heart that was designated just for him. But you didn’t want the pity anymore– you didn’t want to be the widow.

He seems to comprehend this despite you having said very little, and decides to drop the topic for now.

“She talks about you all the time, you know.” You nudge him gently with your shoulder and he becomes suddenly shy– a slight blush tinting his cheeks.

“She talks about you all the time,” he counters, “just goes on and on about how her mom makes the best boxed mac and cheese, and always plays make believe with her– even when she says she’s tired.”

You feel the sting of unwanted tears welling behind your eyes, “Well, I–”

“--You do the best you can, and you don’t give yourself nearly enough credit,” he interrupts before you have the chance to discount yourself, “You’re a great mom, Y/N.”

One of the aforementioned tears breaches the edge of your lash line and falls rapidly down our cheek, dropping onto the soft cushion of Abbey’s hair. When the bus abruptly stops, you wipe your face quickly and smear the salty trail it left in its wake.

You harshly clear your throat, “Thanks, Steve,”

“You do that a lot,”

“I feel it a lot.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Back at home, you set Abbey up in front of the television and peel your mud stained jeans off to throw them immediately in the wash, along with Steve’s jacket; not bothering with the hamper.

Once you’ve taken a quick shower to rinse the remaining crusted dirt off your thighs, you make your way back into the dimly lit living room to find Abbey asleep, once again, with her knees tucked into her chest, and the technicolor screen illuminating her features in tones of muted blue.

You strain your back to pick her up, but it’ll be worth it when she’s no longer small enough to carry bridal style into her all pink bedroom, and set atop her princess sheets. You’re thankful to have gotten her into her pajamas already– foreseeing this would happen.

There’s a dull longing in the center of your chest as you kiss her forehead and tuck the comforter up to her chin. It’s that same tug you felt after Jeremy died, when you realized you’d be putting your daughter to bed alone from that point on. It festered and grew until one day it became so routine that you didn’t remember what it felt like to have your partner there next to you, and then it dissipated completely.

Until tonight.

Except for this time the longing wasn’t for Jeremy. It wasn’t even for that ‘perfect man’ you’d sometimes conjure up in your mind’s eye just before you fell asleep at night.

It was for someone new.

divider credit to @/strangergraphics

tag list - @micheledawn1975 @cherryc1nnam0n @paleidiot @adaydreamaway30 @twinkling-moonlillie @royalestrellas @cali-888 @jamdoughnutmagician @kolsmikaelson @soulxiez @sadieshairbrush @the-witty-pen-name @ilovetaquitosmmmm @mrsnarnian

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leascorner · 3 days ago

Text

j.b.b. | Fake it ‘till you make it

Summary: Y/N’s ex-boyfriend will be at the Christmas party she will be attending. Bucky poses as Y/N’s +1.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warnings: Use of Y/N and feminine pronoums, a few mentions of food and alcohol, mention of cheating and ghosting people and breaking Y/N's heart, mention of christmas and the dear corporate world, loads of mention of anxiety/stress, some vulgar language

Word Count: 4k

A/N: This is the 3rd Xmas OS of the series. It was a bit thougher to write than I imagined, but I'm quite happy out it turned out. Please do share and like if you enjoyed it, it means a lot!

2024 Christmas Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Y/N’s hands were so sweaty that she had to wipe them on her black coat every five minutes. The air in the car was warm and cosy, a sharp contrast with the cold and dry weather outside. If it should have relaxed her, it wasn’t enough. Instead, she couldn’t stop her right leg from shaking and her heart was beating so fast that it made her blood ring in her ears. She couldn’t believe that even after all this time he was making her this nervous.

Though, it wasn’t him exactly; it was this whole situation…

The he in question was her ex. An ex that, one night, had decided to throw away a four-year-long relationship with a note left on the kitchen counter of their shared apartment. An apartment from which he had planned to move out without facing her. Too bad for him, that same night, Y/N had gotten back from work earlier than expected and had, of course, walked in on him moving out. In the end, she had been the one to kick him out. Nevertheless, the shock had been real when, one week later, Natasha, her dear friend, had seen him at the supermarket, hands in hands with some other woman.

He had broken her entirely: her heart, her trust in this world, her self-esteem and probably everything else. More than one year later, she was still fixing what he had done to her. So naturally, when she heard that he was going to attend the Christmas party of the firm she was working at, she did the only thing she thought she was capable of… She decided not to go.

That was without counting on Natasha, who was determined not to let this slip that easily. He was the bastard that broke her friend. He would be the one daring to attend the Christmas party of the firm his ex was working on for more than six years now. He was only a small accountant from the accounting company to which finance had started to outsource their activities a couple of weeks ago. He was insignificant, while Y/N was expected to take on the role of head of her department after the retirement of her manager. Y/N couldn’t simply decide to not attend. She was going to be there and showing how much better she was doing without him.

Thanks heaven, she wasn’t going to do this alone. When Natasha had succeeding in convincing her to go to this party, Y/N had admitted she didn't feel like going alone. Sure, there would be her coworkers – she had become good friends with a few of them and all were aware of her romantic situation ship (or lack of, therefore). However, between Gina and her three kids, Maria on maternity leave, and Zach who she knew was going to hit on every waiter present, she needed more support. Y/N had made puppy eyes to Natasha, trying to get her to come with her. A look in her agenda later, the redhead had declared with a huge smile on her lips that she would be in Europe that week, closing the most important deal of the year for her own company. That was how Bucky had offered to be her “+1” for the night.

Ever since, Natasha had made up this fantasy of Bucky posing as Y/N’s fiancé for the night. She wanted Y/N’s ex to know Y/N was doing better, much better indeed, now that he wasn’t in her life anymore. At first, Y/N had embraced this idea, it was only payback for the way he had embarrassed her. However, thinking about it again, it definitely didn’t feel like such a good idea. How pathetic was she to try and make him jealous when the simple thought of him should make her indifferent…

Y/N had gotten cold feet a million times. If it wasn’t for Bucky insisting to call a cab to pick them both up and then have it drive them to the party, she would have spent her Friday evening ordering pizza and watching Netflix or if she would have had the courage to get out in the cold, testing this new winery bar that opened downtown to drink away her sorrow.

Even now, on her way to the party, she was only a second away to ask for the car to turn around and go back home. It would be a shame with all the money she had put in her outfits, make-up and hair, and with how Bucky had dressed up too, but she could still pretend to be not feeling well or be sick, no?

She was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed that the car had stopped, and her door was already opening. A wave of panic washed over her.

She did not want to be here.

She wanted to be anywhere, but here.

“Hey,” Bucky spoke, and she was surprised to see that he was the one to have open the door car. She had not realized Bucky had already gotten out and was offering her his hand to help her get out as well. “Just like we said,” he searched for her eyes as he took a deep inspiration. Eyes lost in the blue of his eyes; she copied him instinctively. It was just one night; she reminded herself to try to ease her nerves. As did Bucky, she breathed out. “It’s going to be okay,” he promised. She nodded weakly, still hooked to his eyes as if they were buoys.

They continued to breathe together for the time she needed to successfully calm herself and her heartbeat. When she was ready, she grabbed her handbag and took his hand. She couldn’t help but notice how her heart fluttered in her chest and how her cheeks heated up when their skin touched, but she quickly pushed the thought aside.

This was how Bucky was, not only with her, but with everyone. He was very well mannered and always nice; opening the door, pulling out the chair for the person he was with to sit down, offering his coat or jacket were anyone too cold. One smile and everyone would fall for him. Y/N couldn’t lie, Bucky was also very good looking. Tall, but not too tall. Definitely muscly under his button-up shirts. Flashing bright smiles. Piercing blue eyes.

Y/N had met him through Natasha. At that time, she had just moved to New York, and they worked at the same company. Natasha had introduced her to her group of friends; people she had been to university with: Wanda, Clint, Sam, Steve, and Bucky – and she was quick to be a part of the group.

While they had always been in the same group of friends, they had never been particularly close. Bucky being Bucky, he was always eager to know what was going on in her life, always interested in discussing about her hobbies, but they had never hanged out outside of their little group gatherings.

Y/N only really acknowledged him after her break-up. It was as if she had worn blinders for all those years. Suddenly, she realized he had been there all along. He continued being nice to her and much more than that. He became a really good friend, showing up at her place with ice-cream so she could cry her heart out. He listened and dried her tears. More than anything else, he made her feel important.

Like he really cared.

And in this past year, it had been everything to her.

As they walked into the building where the party was happening, Bucky spoke to her about the plans Steve and him had over the weekend. He spoke to her as if they were only going to the supermarket do groceries on a Tuesday night. She realized what he was doing – he was trying to clear her mind – and she was grateful for it. It did stop the easiness in her stomach and thankfully, the cold of the night made her hands dry.

In the hall, Bucky took her coat to leave it in the cloakroom. It was the exact same moment her phone decided to ring.

Natasha, less than one minute ago: Don’t forget to send me a picture of the two of you.

Natasha, less than one minute ago: And have fun!

Smiling, Y/N send her a quick answer, a mix of ‘yes mom’ with a rolling eyes emoji and ‘have a good day’ wherever she was – Natasha’s schedule was so hectic it was a bit difficult to follow sometimes; she could have been in London in the morning and Moscow at night.

Y/N put her phone back in her handbag as Bucky walked back to her. With a motion of his hand, he invited her to lead the way and enter in the reception room. His right hand rested in between her shoulder blades that her backless dress left naked. His palm was barely touching her skin, yet the touch of his fingertips grounded her, made her focus on him rather than what was happening around them.

“Y/N!” Gina called out as soon as they entered the room. She left her husband with her boss and nearly came running in their direction.

To Y/N’s disappointment, Bucky’s hand left her back as he let her go to greet her colleague. Gina didn’t lose time to hug Y/N as if the last time they had seen each other was not in the HR meeting that same morning. From the empty glass in her hands, Y/N assumed she had already started to celebrate the end of the year. Gina had never been one to handle alcohol well.

“Bucky, right?” Gina questioned as she turned to her left, to him.

“And you must be Gina.” Bucky stated in return. Gina giggled like a middle school girl – that was typically Bucky’s effect and even if Y/N knew him for a good decade now, it still amazed her. Gina went for a hug and Bucky happily obliged, barely touching her though.

“Hot,” Gina mouthed not so silently to Y/N, who was standing behind them.

Y/N only gave her a stern look and watched as Gina took her sweet time to let him go. If she had thought for a long time already that she would never let Natasha and Gina meet, she knew now that she was indeed right. The two of them in the same room would be the death of her.

Thankfully, someone going up on the stage in front of the dance floor was enough to put poor Bucky out of his misery. The CEO of the firm was about to give his traditional end-of-year speech, and everyone was invited to listen. Gina’s husband was quick to get her to join the crowd who was quickly gathering around the stage.

Y/N turned to Bucky who still wore his typical soft smile and acting as if the interaction with Gina had never happened. Maybe it happened to him more often than Y/N would know. “She is… something. I’m sorry.”

Bucky chuckled to wave it off and only offered her his arm, “Shall we?”

As they stand next to each other, in the crowd of the firm employees in front of the stage, Y/N only listened to the speech with one ear. She couldn’t help watching around the room. She saw the faces of all the persons in the crowd, some she had never seen before and a few familiar ones. Somewhere in the crowd, her eyes met with Zach who raised his glass to her, and she nodded in return to acknowledge him; considering who he was with, she knew she was most likely not going to see him again tonight. Thankfully, she didn’t see her ex and release a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

When her eyes turned to Bucky, he was already looking at her. For the first time, she saw a very subtle frown on his face. He was worried about her. Even if he had agreed to it – and he did so willingly, she felt bad for having him spend the night with her, attending a Christmas party where he knew nobody even more so. The company he was working at must also have its own Christmas party and everybody knew that one company Christmas party a year was much than enough. She wanted him to have a good time, not remembering this night in a bad way. So, she needed to relax.

She was so lost in her thoughts that Bucky had to nudge her in the ribs so she would applause at the end of the speech.

“Do you want a drink?” Y/N said more for herself than Bucky at her side. Without waiting for him to answer, she continued: “I’ll get us some drinks.”

And just like that, she had left him on the spot and was walking in direction of the bar. One second later, she was turning back and walking to where Bucky was still standing. He looked at her, surprised.

“Thank you so much.”

Bucky smiled, sweetly. That was probably what she liked the most about him, he knew exactly was she was on about. “Doll, pleasure is all mine.”

Doll… Bucky wouldn’t stop calling her by all those sweet nicknames ever since the break-up. It somehow made her stomach fluttered. She wished he was only using those with her, but she knew with how he was, he did it with everyone else.

“No, really,” she insisted. “You didn’t have to do it.” Bucky was going to answer something when she cut him off. “You must think I am pathetic to do this. I swear, I do not have any feeling for him anymore. I just don’t want him to think he won. He can’t be the one to have thrown away a four-years-long relationship and be the one to walk away happy. Not after all he put me through.”

Slowly, Bucky took her chin into his right hand, his eyes meeting hers again. She had not noticed, but they were yet again so close to one another.

“Love, we are going a hell of a time tonight. Screw him. You are much better without him. You would have to be blind not to see it.”

And what a time they were going to have indeed…

After a couple of drinks, Y/N was much comfortable about being here that night. Bucky had somehow managed to get them a full tray of appetizers for them both to share as their dinner. They had been joined by Zach afterwards, who against all odds spent a part of his evening with them. They shared some shots of vodka, took a dozen of silly pictures at the photobooth that was set up, and once the DJ had started to play actual music, they had been quick to join the dance floor. In the crowd of employees, Bucky had made Y/N spun around herself more times than she could count. His hands had been on herself at all times – on her hips, on her arms, on her back, definitely leaving Y/N aching for more.

“I need to take a break.” Y/N announced after a while as she started to walk away from the dance floor. Zach was too busy with some other man to care about her and Bucky was quick to follow her.

“You good?” he asked. As the music was too loud, Y/N only saw his lips moving without hearing what he had said. Bucky stepped closer and had his lips close to her ear to repeat her question.

“Yes,” she nodded, moving her hands in front of herself as a fan to have some air. She had this hotness on her cheeks and nose; her backless dress was now clenched to her features. At this point, she didn’t know anymore if it was from all the dancing or from him being so close to him. She was hot, needed some air and probably also a drink. “I’m thirsty. Do you want something?”

Bucky had to lean in again onto her to let her know what he wanted to drink. Y/N gave him a thumbs-up before walking to the bar. She was wearing a big smile on her lips and was feeling absolutely content. As she walked away from the dance floor, she thought this night couldn’t have gone better… except her feet in those heels and she would have to drink water at some point if she didn’t wish to wake up with a massive headache… And that, as if destiny was playing with her, her eyes landed on the only person that could spoil her night.

Y/N’s smile faded when she was her ex, waiting for his drink at the bar, hand pianoing on the wood of the counter, eyes scanning the room. Bucky’s presence had finally made her totally forget what she had asked him to come for in the first place.

Sighing, she decided she wasn’t going to turn back now. She didn’t have to talk to him, let alone have to look at him. She went to the bar side on her left, at the very opposite of him. Focusing on the barmaid that smiled when she stood against the bar, she repeated Bucky’s whisky order and ordered a soft drink for her. She was about to get back to Bucky with their drinks when a shadow overed on her.

“Y/N, how nice to see you,” his snide voice called her out.

Her two drinks in her hand, she turned to look at him with a stern sight. Still the same charming smile. The same malicious eyes. That same dimple. It had made her heart flattered in the past, though now it only made her want to vomit.

“It has been a long time, how have you been?”

“I am awaited,” was all she answered. Her tone was not rude – though she would have very much like to throw her glass to his face; it was only very firm to pass on the idea that she did not want to talk to him. At all.

“Oh, so you’ve been able to coax someone to come with you?” he said, grabbing on her elbow to keep her from moving away from him.

“Her boyfriend, actually.”

Bucky appeared at her side, out of nowhere. The surprise made him drop his hold on her, making Y/N lose her balance. Thankfully, Bucky firm hand found the exposed skin of her lower back in a second and she gently crashed onto his side.

Unsure of what to do, Y/N looked back at Bucky, who was now getting his drink out of her hands.

“Thank you, doll.”

He smiled at her, and she smiled back, loosing herself in his blue eyes, totally forgetting the room around her and the fact that her ex was right in front of them. The physical contact of his skin on hers was started to make her head fizzy. Or was it the multiples drinks of Champagne finally making it to her head?

“Nice to have seen you again, buddy.”

And without waiting for an answer, Bucky brought Y/N with him to a cocktail table, not so far from the dance floor, but a little bit calmer where they could talk. A couple of steps away from her ex, when he knew they weren’t within earshot, he leaned on Y/N to mutter:

“See, wasn’t that bad.”

Y/N smiled weakly and took down the glass of orange juice she had ordered in one go, now wishing she had ordered vodka with it. Her heart in her chest was pounding and she felt his eyes on her back; he was watching them. All her energy seemed to have left her body. Their encounter had been like a wake-up call, and she didn’t want to be here any longer.

Yet, she didn’t want to be the first one to leave, she didn’t want to let him win. So, she tried to calm herself and she stayed at the limit of the dance floor, watching her colleagues dancing the night away before her eyes. Bucky stayed at her side. He did not say a word, probably because he had understood she did not want to talk.

It was only when the DJ played a slow dancing song that Y/N seemed to wake up from her trance and turned to him.

“Would you dance with me?”

Bucky didn’t need much persuading and was quick to grab Y/N’s hand to lead her to the dance floor. He found them an empty space, where he had her turned to him. His hands immediately found a place on her naked back, sending shivers down her spine, and her hands found their way to the back of his neck.

They moved slowly, body pressed against one another. Y/N let her head fall on his chest while he slowly stoked the skin of her back. Her belly tingled in such a strong way that she finally had the courage to look at him in the eyes. When their eyes met, he was already looking at her, a small smile on his lips that inadvertently draw Y/N’s eyes. His lips were so close, so reachable, that she was tempted to just lean in and see what would happen. The fire in her stomach wanted her to do it. After all, she had already lost so many things this year, nothing worse could happen, right?

She bit her own lips and tried to come back to earth. Bucky was a good friend and if it meant losing him, she didn’t want to risk it. He was too precious to ruin everything, even if she wanted him more than anything.

“What would you say of getting out of here?” Bucky asked when the song finished. Even though the next song was not slow-rhythmed, they had stayed in the same position. Body pressed together, moving slowly.

“Yes, please.”

Yet, none of them moved.

They kept eyeing each other, Y/N’s gaze going from his eyes to his lips and back again. Finally, Bucky made a move. Her breath got caught in her throat when Bucky’s hand took a loose string of her hair and put it behind her ear. The air seemed to have thickened and the time to have paused.

His hand hot on her cheek, he leaned in slowly.

“Please,” she begged him to put her out of her misery.

He chuckled deeply and leaned him more, their lips barely touching. Y/N didn’t waste a second more and brought him closer, crashing their lips a bit too brutally together that they could hear their teeth crashing together. Y/N withdrawn, eyes wide, worried she had hurt him.

“I’m so sor-” Bucky was quick to kiss her again, this time much gently. A second first kiss that they would remember. One of those kisses that would electrify their whole body. One of those kisses that would leave their lips swollen and them asking for more.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Once again, Y/N let Bucky grab her hand and lead her to the cloakroom. He asked for their coats with the ticket he had kept in his wallet as Y/N stood her back against the wooden counter, trying to realize what was going on. She was going to go home, with him of all people.

“Well, that was one hell of a show out there,” Zach whispered as he stood next to her. He too was waiting in line to get his coat and go home with the person at his side, a man from the Californian office she had seen twice in her life. “Couldn’t figure out if you were faking it or not.”

Y/N turned to Bucky at her side, whose hand was still holding her hip, as if he was scared, she would slip away. Then, she turned back to Zach, a big smile on her face.

“Definitely not fake.”

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ladyredmoon13 · 2 days ago

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DCXDP prompt

Summer of change.

Maddie Fenton was many things, and a patient mother of two was only one of them. Here lately, however, Maddie found her patience wearing thin with their youngest child. Now she loved Danny. He was her son, after all, but here lately, his actions and overall dismissive attitude towards everything from his grades to his responsibilities was starting to get to her.

She and Jack had tried everything they could think of to try and get Danny to behave and reconsiderhis actions. From taking away his phone, restricting time with his friends, to full-on grounding him. Nothing seemed to work. They were running out of options, but there was one last thing she wanted to try before, even considering bringing up the suggestion of military school to her husband.

"Hey Jack?" She called to her husband from the living room." Yeah, Madds?" He called back from his position over the kitchen table as he tried to fix the trigger on their latest invention. Hoping that this will be what they'll need to finally catch that ectoplasmic nuisance of a ghost boy.

"Your cousin, the one from Gotham; the one you introduced me to at our wedding. He's a cop, right?"

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

Detective Harvey Bullock was a man of little patience and even less tolerance to the kind of nonsense that the usual scum of Gotham City drummed up.

The only times he could ever really recall ever having more patience and tolerance than a saint was when he was growing up with his favorite cousin. So when said favorite cousin called him up out of the blue, asking for a favor, Bullock did little else, then say, "Sure thing," and " anything for you, little Jacky.'

That was how he got roped into looking after his cousins son for the summer. At first, he was hesitant. Asking Jack if he was sure he wanted to do that. After all, he didn't really have much experience with kids( and no, the Bats kids don't count).

But when Jack started telling him about all the trouble his kid was getting into. The arguments, the mysterious bruises, the skipping school, etc. The boy was on the start of a one-way street down to a bad place, and Bullock didn't like it. So he sucked it up and asked his cousin when he could send him.

Now Harvey knew he wasn't a good role model, that Gotham wasn't the safest place for any saine parent to raise a child, let alone send one here; but now that he was told what was going on with Danny. Bullock found himself determined to get the teen to turn over a new leaf. "Who knows," he thought to himself hopefully, "maybe Gotham was the perfect place for him to do it?"

#dc x dp crossover #batman #danny phantom #danny fenton #detective bullock #gotham won't know what hit it #batfam #pure chaos #bullock might even have a heart attack

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thepossummoldypasta · 2 days ago

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I don't think I have enough words, or maybe the right words, to express how I feel when I see things like this. It hurts my heart that spaces built by creative people, made solely for the purpose of experiencing and sharing joy, be whittled down to a product to be consumed and then immediately forgotten.

I can't tell you how many people I've talked to that said they loved something so much and that they wished the could talk about it when comments and re-blogs are right there? I've had fleeting conversations with people in what used to be the spaces that our communities gathered say they didn't think authors would want them to interact or that they didn't think they had something meaningful to add.

At some point it became too weird or too time consuming to say anything.

but that's the entire point.

Like, are you seriously trying to tell me that this website was created with the purpose of saying something into the void and having the void say back "this is so cool" only for nobody to say anything?

the fact of the matter is that you don't need to add anything.

If you see someone wearing an outfit you love, you can go up to them and say "I like that Jacket!". Not everyone wears the jacket to get compliments, but sometime you wear an outfit because you know it will be a hit. Sometimes a simple comment about the jacket will spark a meaningful conversation and sometimes all that happens is you say "nice jacket" and they might say "thankyou" back.

But even if they don't respond, they always hear it, and chances are really good that it makes someone's day or maybe even week.

That's all this is, you "added something" because you add yourself, and it's amazing.

I can tell you that--for me at least--nothing means more than someone leaving a comment, especially the small stuff. I talked about it for a week the first time someone left a "TBR" in the tags of one of my posts. I was so happy I nearly cried because I saw with my own two eyes that someone actually wanted to read somethin I had written.

This is not this first blog I've ever had, I left my favorite fandom and the first space I actually enjoyed creating in because I felt like I was unwanted. I felt like people liked the things that I had written but they didn't care that they were written because there was always something else to consume.

I deleted everything-- A few years later one of my friends mentioned my own fic (not knowing it was mine) to me saying how it was one of their favorites and they were sad that it was gone. I asked if they left a comment and they said no. They said they didn't see the need to.

This is where we are headed. If we don't show appreciation then there ultimately will be nothing to appreciate.

Complement the jacket, shout into the void expecting no response, and for gods sakes' re-blog because that's how things are shared on this forsaken site. I promise you hold the power to make someone cry actual, literal, tears of joy if you would use it!

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

#to all the people how create stuff here #I love you all so much #To all the people who comment and reblog #it doesn't matter who you are #I love you too

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