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rieamena · 6 months ago

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totally (not) beating the allegations

best friend!takuma ino headcanons

contains... best friends to lovers, mutual pining, casual confession of love, kisses (platonic), kisses (romantic), modern au, high school to university au, living together-ish, fem intended reader, pet names (baby, babe, love, sexy, handsome, beautiful, sweetie, the list goes on and on), lots of physical touch, nicknames (you call takuma, kuma.), reader has a mother and a father, y'all are basically dating just without the label...

word count: 2.3k (this wasn't supposed to be long. i told myself 0.8k maximum...)

riea's comments: all sixteen people living in takuma city RISE UP! i miss my husband of 35 years so much, come back to me loml :(( something to munch on while y'all wait for the next full throttle chapter. also not too much on me if this is a drabble and not hcs idk the difference :))

first off... i just wanna say that i KNOW I KNOW that ino is one of the funniest people in the jjk cast idc idc!!! if he had more screentime (and if the situation wasnt dire) my boy would be crackin some jokes!!!!

you've been friends with takuma for around 7 years, your first meeting happening in tenth grade, when your teacher paired you two up for an interview project. when time came to actually record the interviews, it was hard to edit out you two laughing uncontrollably every fifteen seconds or so

i mean, you two just had so much in common!!! same favorite color, same favorite franchise, same favorite tv show, same favorite video game; it was like yall were the same person. there was just one thing you both disagreed on: whether hex code #286061 was blue or green

your argument ended up being the last ten minutes of the final video you submitted...

without a doubt, after that, you two became inseparable. in school, people would take notice of your closeness. when one of you were absent, teachers would jokingly ask "where's the other one?"

there was not a single thing you didn't do together, homework, go to the gym, gossip, eavesdrop, etc etc. so of course, you ended up applying to the same universities and when it came time for college acceptance season...

takuma invited you over, forcing you to bring your mailed letters from the eight universities. sprawling out over his lap, you took in the all too familiar sight of his room. you've been in his room more times than you've been in your own (and vice versa!)

i mean ino's been over to your place so many times that he calls your parents mom and dad. and you've been over to his house so much that takuma's mom practically jumped for joy every time you burst through the front doors with a "guess who's home!!!" so it was completely normal that you guys knew the ins and outs of each other's rooms, right?

"kuma, baby," you started with a sigh, reveling in your best friend's repetitive motions. running his hand through your hair, ino looked down at you, eyes showing that he was listening. "i'm scared, what if we don't–"

"ah-ah-ah! no negativity here!" he cut you off, pushing you off his lap and grabbing the letters you left on his desk. "listen here beautiful," takuma says, bringing a hand to your cheek, his heart swelling when you subconsciously leaned into it, "we're gonna take each other's letters, and open them," he handed you a white envelope, the logo of both of yours dream university on it, "starting with, kyōmei."

taking a well needed deep breath, you nodded. "okay," you and ino began to open the envelopes at the same time, only looking at each other when you saw the status. "accepted or rejected in 3...2...1..."

"ACCEPTED"

cue the mandatory silence before the screaming. "holy shit. you got in." "you got in." "WE GOT IN!!! WE'RE GOING TO KYŌMEI!!!!" you two practically flew off the bed, jumping up and down in celebration. peppering his face in kisses, you nuzzled your face into takuma's neck. "i'm so proud of us! i mean, kyōmei," you pulled away from his neck, shaking his shoulders harshly, "the kyōmei?!!!"

anyways, soon enough, you both realized that you'd have to move away, resulting in a seven hour search for apartments near the university's campus. and just as takuma was about to give up, you found a listing for units 19A and 19B, right in the heart of the city and just a five minute walk from kyōmei

and with that, it was moving day, well, days is more like it considering that the whole process took like ten days... finding cute furniture is really hard! and moving all of it is even harder!! and don't even get me started on the appliances! although, you and takuma found a way around it

like what do both of you need a microwave for? and there isn't a reason to have two dishwashers, there wasn't even a reason to have one! y'all kept your fridges though... who was gonna be banging on the other's door in the middle of the night for some cold water??

with time, it came for the highly anticipated freshman formal, an welcome event hosted by kyōmei itself, and of course, you had to go. so here you were, staring at your figure in the mirror as your best friend's large hand rubbed your shoulder, the other zipping up your black dress. "all done!" he breathed, taking a step away so that you could see for yourself. "i look so cute~" you giggled, hearing the clack of your heels as you twirled. "you do!" he paused, looking you up and down, "when did you get that dress?"

"your mom gave it to me a couple days ago! where'd you get that tux? i don't think i've seen it before," you walked over and straightened takuma's suit, as he laughed in response, "your mom gave it to me..."

"this was planned."

"this was definitely planned."

"we should send a picture in the family group chat!"

"we should!!! but, hair first!"

notice how i said family group chat, singular, not plural. and that's because there's a gc for both of your families! it's name was a mix between "ino" and your last name, since, in all seriousness, your families were close

so here you were, sitting pretty on takuma's lap as you focused on straightening the front pieces of his hair, because that's what best friends do!

"okayyyy sexyyyy," you squealed, moving out of the way so that takuma could see himself in your vanity mirror, "damnn, i look hot!" he smiled as he checked himself out, his hand firmly on your waist (to make sure that you wouldn't fall, of course!). "i knew i was fine but, did i always look this fine?" he asked, looking up at you with his big dark brown eyes, a playful smirk evident on his face. "yes, takuma. you're the sexiest man ever. just a bit of eyeliner on you and we'll be on our way, okay?"

turning back to your station, you grabbed some brown and black pencils before starting to lightly draw over ino's outer eye corner, "do men as sexy as me really need eyeliner?" a look from you was all he needed to know to shut up and close his eyes

and oh, how he loved being so close to you. not just emotionally but physically as well. like, not every duo can say that they barge into the other's apartment to steal snacks! and speaking of snacks... let me just say, there's a whole cabinet in his kitchen reserved for your favorite foods and! he keeps your favorite ice cream flavor stocked in his freezer

you, on the other hand, have a little space where you hide takuma's favorite anything. chips, gummies, takeout menus, you name it, you have it. because your best friend is oh-so-optimistic, it can be harder for him when he's just not having the best of days. which is why when you go your (not so) separate ways at the end of the day, you pack up a basket for him. ribbons in his favorite color, his top 15 favorite snacks from that one time y'all bought one of everything in a nearby convenience store and ranked them, takeout on the way, horror flicks he's been wanting on dvd because he said "its cooler that way", and a handwritten letter from you, for my kuma, scribbled on the envelope

dropping off the basket at his door and retreating back to your place, you'd press your ear against the wall separating your units, physically feeling your heart break when you heard sniffles. that was all you needed to practically fly over to his, a few boxes of tissues in hand. because that's what best friends do!

and don't even get me started on how many belongings y'all have at the other's place... like that one time takuma walked into your apartment announcing his presence, only to be met with silence. let me set up the scene for you. you are taking a relaxing shower when you hear a knock on the door followed by four more and then three more. "come in!" you called out, unbeknownst to you, ino's voice was closer than you thought

"already in here..., anyways. is my shampoo in there?"

"the one with the purple cap?"

"yeah, thanks babe!"

"wait, can you get me my towel?"

or that time when you causally opened the door to his unit (because it was basically yours too) and greeted him with a simple pat on his head before skipping off to find those jeans you thrifted

slight cohabitation aside, the university life was definitely... something. it was clear and obvious that you two were close, a blind man could see it. but close is a really really really vague word, and it's surely not the word that describes the way the two of you act. in this friendship, terms of endearment drop like rain from clouds. every. other. sentence. contains a "babe" or "baby" or "sweetheart" or "darling" WE GET IT OKAY...

and it seems like if y'all go a single day without touching each other, a bomb will fall from the sky and earth would blow up. his hands are constantly on you, his favorite places (when in public) being your shoulders and arms, and when at home it was without a doubt your waist and thighs. just imagine how difficult it must be for people speak to you both on campus when his arm is slung around you and your hand is holding onto his side. the rumors practically created themselves....

and when i say people were shocked, i mean they were SHOCKED when y'all were like "haha, no, we're not dating!!! we're best friends!" everyone was thinking: yeah best friends who FUCK. best friends who are IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER. y'all became the campus' it couple without being a couple. how does that happen??!??

however... there were a couple of people who were particularly excited to hear that you both were single. a few girls approached you one day while in the general area, asking if it was true that you and ino weren't dating. "we aren't... why?" one of the girls shifted on her feet, clearly nervous. "well... could you um... give this to him for me?!" she bowed, presenting a pretty pink envelope. you froze, staring at the item before giggling. "i see what this is about! don't worry! i'll make sure this gets to him safely!" long story short, that letter was never delivered

and on ino's side, he had some classmates pestering him about you. asking for your favorite show, candy, date style, everything under the sun. "guys, guys! she doesn't even want a boyfriend right now!" takuma shouted, even though two days prior you were complaining about how spending too much time with him was scaring all the hotties away

but let's get into the real stuff... the realization of love

for takuma, there wasn't a "wow, i'm in love with her" moment. what he does know though is that he started feeling something different for you a few months before college admission season. to him, the world was always bright with you by his side but now... it was so much brighter. it was like looking directly into the sun; it hurt but he couldn't look away, he doesn't want to look away. you're the best thing to ever happen to him, and the mere thought of ruining what you have just for some feeling—no matter how intense—isn't... right to him

and you figured it out after a dream you had one night back in high school. you dreamt of being in takuma's arms, the ones you snuck glances at when he wasn't paying attention to you. in not dream world, all you had to do was ask and he'd gladly envelop you but the vibes in this dream were different. there was tension. and it was thick. his beanie was off and thrown somewhere on the bed, your bed. looking back at him, your breath caught in your throat, "hey pretty," he slurred, drunk off tiredness. ino's called you beautiful more times than you can count; he made sure to do it at least once a week, so why... just why did this time make your stomach heat up and your heart race? you woke up with a flushed face, queasy feeling in your gut, and a deep understanding. it wasn't just platonic love anymore

"hey," you started, eyes trained on the movie in front of you, but your mind was focused on something else, "y'know how everyone thinks we're dating?" ino nodded as you reached over to grab the bowl of popcorn. "i've been thinking... maybe they're onto something..."

takuma's gulp could be heard from miles away, "wh-what are you trying to say?"

"what are we? seriously. because i can't sit here and pretend like i don't wish we were something more."

"something more like...?"

"now's not the time to be oblivious! don't you get it?! i'm—"

"i'm in love with you,"

it was like time stood still as you looked at your best friend. his face was lit by the tv screen a couple feet away, his hair was a mess, and slightly prominent dark circles were under his eyes, but... he's never looked more beautiful to you. "have been. for a long time. we've basically been dating for like four years already. four more and then we'll get married?" he flashed his signature smile

"oh, shut up," he brought your face millimeters away from his, whispering "make me." before kissing you deeply, not on your cheek, or your forehead, or your shoulders, but on your lips this time. and all the times after that too

because that's what best friends lovers do, right?

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @laitifly @discipleofthem

@cheesecake95 @strawberry-cherrypie @makeshiftproject @magiamad0ka @ncitygreen

@stillnotherapy @oniondrip @cloudy-yyy @definitely-not-leena @kidd3ath

@atigerandabear @russianremy @ohnoitsamistakee18 @ivy-vivii @ourfinalisation

@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes

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ladytalon1 · 1 year ago

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Before and After.

#wreck this journal #keri smith #the only thing left is to mail it to myself but I will do that Thursday

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unknownmads · 1 year ago

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CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT INMATE TOJI AND CUTE LITTLE Y/N WHOS SO NAIVE TO BIG BAD TOJI

CW: Slight smut (mentions of his pp🤭)

☆☆☆

thinking about Prison toji who you met when your college has you do a little project in your criminal psychology class. The project was make a penpal get to know them ask why they are in prision, what their lives before was like, do they regret what they did etc. basic questions of course all you had to do was get the most information out of the penpal about their personal lives as you could.

Prison Toji who only signed up for the program because it was part of his latest court order saying he ‘needed more understanding’ so a penpal would give him a friend while they stay safe😭 he ofc hated the idea and thought it was the dumbest shit ever. until he got his first letter, from you (duh).

Prison toji who got mail for the first time and it was a little white envelope with a cute little sticker sealing it. He deadpanned *is my penpal an idiot these letters are for a prison not a daycare* he silently judges examining every detail as he opened the letter. i read the letter taking in every little personal detail you shared with him, your cute little name, how you loved your cat, how you’re new to the city only just moving for school, of course the boring questions for him as well. But at the very end of the letter he noticed an extra little note.

Ps. i left a few photos of myself along with some of my cat! i think it’s only fair since i got to see your photo on the website

Prison toji who grabs the envelope he previously had thrown to the side and pulls out 3 polaroids. One of you and probably your cat you’re dragging it into the photo with a big grin on your face. the second is a photo of your face a soft smile on your lips meant for whoever took the photo but Toji couldn’t help but wonder if that little smile was for him. Until he pulls out the third photo it’s a full view of you, you’re out in the city dressed all out, and Toji couldn’t help but know you chose that photo just for him.

Prison Toji who can’t wait to finally get some alone time so he can truly appreciate your pretty photos. And immediately goes to write you back answering all your cute little questions. Telling you where he lived before, how he ended up there, telling you what he did for work before (Surprise he sold drugs😍), telling you what he does to occupy his time here (he works out he just wanted an excuse to tell you how strong he is), and he asks you some questions.

Prison Toji who has been relentlessly flirting with since you started writing to him, asking if you had a boyfriend, how your school was going, why you moved to the city, how a cute lil thing like you is still single. You had been writing each other for a few weeks now which is a lot less than you think when you know how long mail takes. But your letters to each other are long. answering every little thing each other asks, learning about one another more and more. You had really connected so you finally ask him the big question he read the words as clear as day.

~Do you think i could come pay you a visit? ~

Prison Toji who had to immediately write back answering the most important question first.

~ And doll, you can come visit me anytime id love to finally meet you and see your pretty face in person~

he wanted to be nonchalant.

Prison Toji who was sitting in bed looking at your photos when he was called

“Zenin, you’ve got a visitor. away from the door.”

Prison Toji silently followed standing on the other side of the cell while the guard came in to handcuff him and bring him to the visiting area. Once he was in the room his cuffs connecting him to the table he waited. until he heard the door open again. He felt his cock twitch in his pants as he saw the guard guide you in. You were wide eyed taking in the new environment until they landed on him.

Prison Toji was large, you knew he was tall and muscular thanks to his letters and photo but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal. Eyes widening even more when you fully take him in. seated At the grey metal table his hands on the table as the guard had told him to. his hair poking at his eyes which were staring drinking you in. his lip in a smirk helping you notice the scar on it which you couldn’t really see from the grainy prison photos. His shirt stretched against his muscles showing off a few tattoos hidden along his skin. the view making you squeeze your thighs together to release some of the pressure building.

Prison Toji who took in as much of you as he could as he watched you shuffle into your seat across from him, enjoying how you squirmed slightly within his gaze, his smirk growing into an almost full smile.

“hey doll it’s good to finally meet you.”

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ilonii · 13 days ago

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Prisoner Toji Headcanons - T.F

Prisoner Toji who you met on complete accident. You and a friend thought it’d be a good idea to try out “write-a-inmate”. The pair of you cooked up some letters and prepared to ship them out right up until you unfortunately got cold feet. Your friend, however, was determined to complete the process, sending off both your letters to your respective inmates.

Prisoner Toji, who was absolutely shocked to receive a pink, strawberry scented letter in the mail. The only person who’s ever sent him as much as high five is his son, and even that’s only once in a blue moon.

Prisoner Toji who isn’t really interested in replying until he saw the small polaroid attached to the bottom of the letter. This couldn’t possibly be the person writing to him. You were too young, and far too pretty be interested in writing some 40-year-old man rotting away in a cell.

Prisoner Toji who ends up taking a few extra weeks to write you back. He wants to make sure that he didn’t talk about the wrong things or say something that’d stop you from replying to his message.

Prisoner Toji who doesn’t know how shocked you are to see a letter from the state penitentiary mixed in with your bills and magazine subscriptions.

Prisoner Toji who is delighted to see you’re long-awaited waiting on his bed after an early morning workout.

Prisoner Toji who realizes how much you two have in common. You answered all his questions and even asked him a few of your own. It turns out that you guys like the same shows, enjoyed the same foods, even had a few of the same hobbies (toji had a hidden talent for crochet but shhh, only you need to know that)

Prisoner Toji who after five consistent months of writing each other, finally works up the nerve to ask you to come and see him. He even asked for your number to give you a call and arrange for a date.

Prisoner Toji who almost creams his pants the first time he hears your voice. It’s more perfect than he imagined. Absolute music to his ears. You ended up talking so long he had to threaten a few of the guys behind him just to get a few extra minutes.

Prisoner Toji who absolutely cannot wait to see you. On the day he’s supposed to see you he wakes up extra early, showers longer than he’s supposed to and attempts to actually style his hair for the first time in the five years he’s been incarcerated.

Prisoner Toji who didn’t think you could get any beautiful but stands corrected when he see’s you walk through the doors.

“Hi Toji”

“Hello pretty”

“Sorry If I’m a little nervous, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon”

“Don’t worry, I’m a little nervous myself”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve been locked up five years this is the firs time I’ve seen any outside of sweaty old men; I don’t even think I still know how to talk to a woman”

“Toji you’re so silly, but for what it’s worth I think you’re doing a pretty good job”

“Well thank you, how have you been”

“I’ve been good, I spent a lot of time tryna figure out what to wear today, I wanted to look nice for you.”

“Yeah? Stand up let me see what you landed on”

Did toji really care what you were wearing? A little. Did he really just want to see you get up and spin for him? Absolutely.

“Wow, I think you look amazing. Wonderful choice sweetheart”

Prisoner Toji who makes the best of the next 30 minutes he has with you. Flirting, laughing, cracking jokes. He does it all in the little time he has left.

Prisoner Toji who after you, for the first time in half a decade, really wishes he was out of this hell hole.

border by @bernardsbendystraws

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji jjk

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crowsofdarkness · 1 month ago

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A Fight For Darkness: Chapter One

-gif and pictures not mine. credit to owners-

Pairings: Eric Draven(Bill Skarsgard) x Reader.

Content Warnings: language, violence, mentions of murder, black mail, blood, smoking, drinking, mentions of drug use, arranged marriage, 18+smut that I will mention at the beginning of the chapter.

Summary: An unknown text and a list full of questions for what happened to your sister leads you down to the underground fight ring that belongs to none other than Eric Draven, The Crow. Once he captures your eyes with his, the web you were desperate to untangle suddenly tightens.

Authors Note: This is not cannon to The Crow(2024). Shelly nor her and Eric's love story exist in this series. Eric does have his fast ability to heal thought. Tags are open for this series as well!

A Fight For Darkness Masterlist

My footsteps echoed down the long and dark corridor, the gloom moisture clinging to not only the concrete walls but my already clammy skin as well. Even in the quiet, there was still a lingering dripping from some kind of running water that seemed to echo with every step I took. It was hard to breathe due to my heart that was currently logged in my throat as fear clung deep into the marrow of my bones, unsure what exactly I was about to walk into. I was going in blind with only one text guiding me, the desperation for answers taking over the rational side of my brain.

Unknown: If you want to know what happened to your sister, come here at 10 p.m. Alone. Show the man at the door this picture and he’ll let you in.

Attached to the text was an address, somewhere unknown, and a picture of a bloody crow.

After six months of no answers from the police on what happened to my missing sister, I was left with no choice but to find answers on my own. My sister and I weren’t always close due to some past family trauma, but we always texted to check in every first Sunday of the month just to see how things were going. When my texts went unanswered for two months, I felt deep in my gut something was wrong because she always texted me back.

Swallowing the lump, or my heart, in my throat, I dragged my hand over the wall using it to guide me in the dim light, hoping that soon I’d find some sort of door of sign of life. The first door I walked through was heavily guarded by two men and I did my best not to notice the guns hoisted on their hips. Once I showed them the picture of the bloody crow, I was thrusted through the door with a grunt and the noise of it slamming behind me.

Doing my best to ignore the looming thought that was pestering me about potentially being murdered, I pulled at the sleeves of my hoodie to bring it over my hands as I came to a near dead end, the only way to turn is left. So with a sigh, I took the left and grabbed my phone out of my pocket.

It was a few minutes past five but the thing that had my attention was the fact I had no service.

“I am underground,” I grumbled to myself, pocketing my phone again.

The sudden commotion of yelling and loud bass caught my attention, a light flickering at the end of the hall above a door. I came to a pause in front of the large metal door, trying to gain the final ounce of courage I needed to push through. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was about to walk into, whether it be my death or kidnapping, but the image of my sister flashed in my mind. Even though we weren’t close, we were all each other had, our parents dying when we were younger.

My shaking fingers wrapped around the rusted door knob and with one final deep breath, I pushed open the door. The scent of sweat, alcohol, and something copper permeated the air as I pushed through the thick crowd of bodies, all screaming at something.

“Get him, Crow!”

“Beat his ass, Crow! Don’t let him take you down!”

“OH FUCK! LOOK AT ALL THAT BLOOD!”

Uneasy settled in my stomach, threatening to rise up in my throat as my mouth ran dry when I pushed myself through the clearing of bodies. A large cage came into view, illuminated by red LED lights, but what caught my attention were the two people inside of it. One man was on the ground, lifeless with blood pooling out of a gash in his forehead, while another sat on his hips laying fist after fist into the other guy's face. Tattoos littered over the puncher’s body and I watched almost in a trance as the muscles in his back tensed with each and every punch.

“What the fuck is this?!” I choked, my fear being drowned out by the music and cheers from the crowd.

I’d heard rumors for years about an underground fight club, one that the police couldn’t shut down no matter how hard they tried. Along with the rumors, people speculated that someone higher up, a judge or even the mayor, was a part of this underground fight club. I’d always been naive, not wanting to think my quiet little town in Michigan could have something so disgusting as an underground and highly illegal fighting ring.

How the fuck was my missing sister apart of this?

I shook my head, knowing that there wasn’t any way she was tied up in this. She was the most innocent person I knew and quite frankly, pure as could be.

How would you know? You talked once a month for less than ten minutes.

Shaking the thought from my head, I dared a glance up at the cage once more and nearly threw up as I saw the man with tattoos kick the other man in the stomach. Hard enough that the sound of bones breaking echoed in the thick air.

“Fuck,” I held a hand to my mouth and turned on my heels, desperately needing to get out of there.

I hated violence. It made me sick to my stomach every single time; like it was doing currently.

Pushing through the crowd, ignoring their calls to whoever The Crow was, and nearly sucked in a sob of relief when I found the door I’d walked through a few minutes prior. Only once I walked through the doorway, I realized it wasn’t the same door. I’d walked into a room only illuminated by a muted orange light hanging from the ceiling as it casted over a single bed. A body laying halfway on it with cold vacant eyes and a slit throat pooling blood to the floor.

A shriek clawed its way out of my throat as I slipped on something wet, maybe the blood, and fell onto something hard. Crawling to my knees, I stared back at another set of cold vacant eyes with a bullet wound to their forehead.

“What the fuck!” I cried, sliding away from yet another dead body.

Tears spilled over my face as I hit something hard but before I could breathe a sigh of relief thinking it was a wall, I was yanked up by my hair. Pain burned at my scalp as I was thrown against the wall, now meeting a pair of cold but vibrant eyes as they thinned into slits.

“Who the fuck are you?” A voice thick with an accent spat towards me.

All I could smell was not only my fear but the crimson blood that covered me as well. My dress and bare legs were covered in it as my feet dangled against the floor. Whoever this man was with the cold eyes held me high against the wall and nearly out of view from the light so I could only make out those eyes.

Bright as the morning sun yet dark as the bottom of the ocean, looming in the depths of despair.

His grip from my hair had moved to my neck, cutting off almost all of my oxygen. Stars danced in the corner of my eyes and my body began to feel weak, my soul flickering as it let in the darkness.

Just as I felt life leave me, the door to the room clicked open and another thick accent filled the room. It was in a language I wasn’t familiar with but whatever was said must have been important enough because the man threw me to the floor with two simple words.

“Don’t move.”

Blinking rapidly, I gasped for breath while slowly rising to my knees. I avoided the dead bodies, not bothering to look to see if maybe the woman on the bed was my sister. Instead I watched as the two alive bodies chatted in the dark corners of the room. The newcomer left the door cracked, just enough for me to slip through. If I was quick enough, I could leave and get lost with the crowd. There wasn’t any way whoever attacked me got a good look at my face since I couldn’t see him.

Now or never.

Spriting up from the ground, I left my heels behind as I slid through the blood and barreled my way through the door. Boutrius' voice lingered behind me but I didn’t dare look back, just kept running through the crowd. I didn’t bother to care how I looked covered in blood. More than half of the people here were either too stoned or drunk to notice.

Seeing another door less than a few feet in front of me, I didn’t bother to question if it was the door to safety as I nearly kicked it open with the hope to find some solace from the men chasing me. Leaning my body against the door, I convulsed with sobs and tried my best to stand up on two feet. I could scream, cry, and fall to my knees back at my apartment.

Not here.

I needed to find a way out of here.

“Are you lost?”

Gasping, I opened my eyes with the fear of somehow one of those men already lying in wait for me in this room. But instead of cold vibrant eyes, I was met with a pair of bright and angelic ones as they dragged up and down the entire length of my legs. Those eyes lingered on the blood covering me with furrowed brows and a cigarette hung from his lips.

I noticed the man sitting in front of me was the one inside the cage, the one with all the tattoos that was nearly killing his opponent.

Kill.

Murder.

Two dead bodies.

Tears continued to fall as I turned on my heels to reach for the doorknob, only for the door to be slammed shut as soon as I opened it. I screamed in fear, ready for whatever this man would do to me.

“Please,” I begged while hastily shaking my head. “I promise I didn’t see anything. Let me leave and I won’t tell anyone.”

His large frame loomed behind me and his thick arm, covered in tattoos, continued to keep the door shut.

“What did you see?”

I could feel his chest vibrate against my back when he spoke.

“I-I-can’t. Pl-plea-please. I w-want-.”

I couldn't speak, the fear and images of what happened in that room plagued me. They threatened to drag me down to the depths of whatever hell was. It clawed at my insides, shredding them piece by piece until I was nothing more than a pile of blood.

Blood.

A loud boom echoed against the door causing me to scream yet again and I nearly fell into this man's bare chest as one of his arms wrapped around me.

“What has you spooked, hm?” His voice brushed against my ear.

I shivered in his embrace before trying to remove myself from it, only making him tighten his arm around my stomach as the banging against the door continued.

“Open up, motherfucker! We’ve got a situation in one of the rooms. Two situations that need to be cleaned up!” A voice called through the thick metal.

My body nearly went slack in this man's embrace. Something he picked up on so he dragged me to the couch he’d previously been sitting on and threw me onto it. With a firm finger he pointed at me.

“Don’t you dare fucking move.”

Through the tears, I just now noticed he was shirtless, only wearing a pair of black athletic shorts that hung low on his hips. He was tall and built like a wall of muscles as he stalked over to the door and opened it just a crack.

“What's going on?” His gruff voice asked whoever was on the other side of the door.

“Eric, there’s two dead bodies in one of the rooms. Some dude walked in on it and is freaking out. I have Jackson holding him in the locker room so he can’t tell anyone what's going on. We’re working on clearing out the club but you need to talk to this guy.”

By now the tears and sobs have stopped, throat dry, and I stared blankly ahead at the peeling wall in front of me. I’d become numb to my surroundings, not even picking up the scent of cigarette smoke and cinnamon that lingered in the air. The blood had died on my legs, painting me with the images that refused to stop playing in my mind. My dress, however, was still soaked with blood.

The man that was holding me in this room, Eric, spewed out a handful of curses before muttering something to whoever was on the other side of the door.

What if it was the two men chasing me? The one that nearly choked me to death in that very same room?

A slamming of a door caused me to jump in my spot on the worn leather couch and as Eric stalked back towards me I began to feel the all too familiar weight of dread fill me.

Fuck, he’s going to kill me. He’s going to finish what that one guy couldn’t.

Expecting him to pull a gun out from somewhere or wrap his hand around my throat, I was shocked to see him sit on the table in front of me, letting his elbows rest on his knees. My mouth was still dry, not producing any saliva, as I stared blankly in those angel eyes now. He still had the lit cigarette hanging from his lips as he motioned towards my soaked dress.

“Do you have a name?” Eric asked.

I couldn’t speak, words suddenly so foreign on my tongue, so instead I gave him a curt nod. Just as Eric was about to speak again, there was another knock on the door causing him to yell over his shoulder.

“I’m busy!”

“Boss! It’s important! We found something!”

He swiftly pushed himself off of the table and back over to the door. It was open for less than five seconds as he retrieved something before slamming it shut.

“Y/N L/N.”

My eyes snapped over towards Eric as he leaned against the door holding my purse in one hand and my wallet in the other.

How could I have been so stupid to not only bring something that identifies me but also drop it in this unknown place?

Eric was sitting in front of me once more, dropping my belongings onto the table next to him yet I refused to meet his gaze; keeping it on the door ahead. My only salvation to freedom.

A vice grip yanked my chin, forcing me to meet Eric's eyes as he held strong on my chin.

“Now, Y/N,” he cocked his head to the side. “You’re going to tell me how the fuck you got into my club and why you’re covered in blood while I have two dead bodies to dispose of.”

#eric draven #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard smut #bill skarsgard fics #bill skarsgard one shot #bill skarsgard series #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard x you #bill skarsgard x y/n #bill skarsgard x yn #eric draven 2024 #eric draven x reader #eric draven smut

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hollywoodroses · 5 months ago

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Sincerely Yours, Nikki

Y/N has a secret admirer who sends you letters explaining all the dirty things he wants to do with you

loosely based on the dr. phil celebrity cat-fish episode originally aired in january 2021

Warnings: description of detailed smut, smut including daddy kink. corruption kink & language (minors do not interact, please)

It started happening after you saw motley crue in concert. You were in the front row looking like an innocent school girl that needed to be corrupted. You began to receive letters in the mail from a secret admirer. The letter had the following words that gave you a shiver down your spine:

my dearest lolita, it has been weeks since the first time I saw you. I can’t get you out of my mind. everytime I think of you, I can’t help but to touch myself. I want to ruin you. watch you look so needy for my love. I can’t wait to fuck the brat out of you and taste your sweetness on my tongue. It’s only a matter of time until I own you. sincerely yours daddy.

You were lying in bed touching yourself as the letter fell on the floor. What you didn’t know was there was a figure of a man watching you get off on his words. He has mutual friends with you and was able to sneak into your room when you were in your own little world. When you climaxed you are so turned on like you are on a drug. You suddenly found yourself in his lap dry humping his thigh as he whispered praises in your ear.

You hear a bell ring in the distance when you wake up from a dream. You shut off the alarm and see that Nikki’s letter is on the floor left where you dropped it the night before. When you moved to turn on your desk light, you saw a note with a collar necklace. The note read:

lolita, did you have fun last night? love, daddy

you gasped as you realized last night really happened. It wasn’t a dream.

end

#motley crue #mötley crüe #motley crue fanfiction #mötley crüe fanfiction #motley crue smut #motley crue x reader #motley crue x you #nikki sixx #nikki sixx smut #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx x you #glam metal #hair metal #80’s music #80’s #music #text #post #my writing

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seat-safety-switch · 5 months ago

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"Get in the fucking car, loser. My name is Detective Tina Clownhater, I came from Upper Precinct, and we're going to the fucking circus. One of the clowns was found dead in among about 72 others stuffed into a tiny car, and we think it's Japanese."

"The car?"

"The clown."

I'd heard of Detective Clownhater before. Read some of her reports when they came around the inter-office mail. Circus division. She also did carnivals, which people think is the same thing, but really it isn't. As we rode in silence to the Carny District, I decided I wasn't going to like her. Mostly, it was because she still clung to an outmoded, indulgent, and inefficient mode of transportation known as the 2003 detective-issue Crown Victoria. My own City II Turbo would have been a much more enjoyable ride, but I didn't want to press the issue. Chief was already getting on my case about racking up the mileage per diem anyway.

Maybe I should introduce myself, too. My name is Archibald Shitpope, and I'm a detective for the city police. Every detective here specializes in something – they figured it was more efficient than having us all fight over the same books in detective school – and for me, my passion carried me to Japanese-made economy cars. You'd be surprised how often they crop up in my cases. This was going to be a bit outside of my remit, being a Japanese-made economy clown, but I'm a professional. I'd do the job.

I regretted that promise as soon as we stepped onto the crime scene. Besides the copious amount of blood and viscera thrown about the scene ("explosive decompression," explained Todd the CSI, in between Instagram updates of the most grotesque parts,) the clowns had been stuffed into a Fiat. An Italian-made shitbox. It's amazing they weren't burned alive. From what we could tell from interviews, the clown used to be Takenobu Unchipiero, a famous clown actor in his home country. Top of the industry, I was assured. After a series of gambling scandals, he was forced to retreat to North America, where our standards for clowns are much lower.

I was about to ask Detective Clownhater to buy some business-class tickets to Tokyo so we could "chase up some leads" – I wanted to buy an S660 while the auction market was still soft – but the amount of boiling rage behind her eyes indicated to me that she had already assumed I was going to do that. Instead, I returned to my work of checking the crime scene and interviewing witnesses, only intermittently pausing to take a look at the latest wheels posted to Up Garage's terrible website.

That's when Todd cracked it for us. While mopping up what was left of poor Takenobu, an artificial heart fell out. I couldn't help but notice its unique design: a triangular pump that spun eccentrically in a housing. A rotary engine, in other words. No normal person would have such a heart. Mr. Unchipiero was up to his neck in debt with the Wankel Mafia.

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rosehipsister · 26 days ago

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(low voice) secret samol....

decided to go for a little found materials thing with my sangfielle prompts this year, so it's barely readable haha actual transcripts under the cut because that's a lot to put into alt text

For @aphrddt hope you enjoy it! Thank you @secret-samol

Page 1, marked "5.2" and "Jna -> RvneP -> Ctbk -> Prse" 5:30 train to Perseverance

Mighty excited and grateful (blessing sign) to make my third observation so soon sense the year began. Here's to a great journey and if those gods (blessing sign) willing a striking UMR (Unschola Monthly Review) entry!

(under a sketch of the train emblem) not half bad!! can clean it up back at Mona's

5:29 Left Jahna with a minute to spare. Tough to take the mood in so early, wonder if the Tern has the flighty nature its name suggests. Promised travel time declared 21 hours only, which puts me in Perseverance by nightfall.

Page 2 (next to a scheme of a train car) "Bright Tern Postal, coach car 3" a1, a2 - doors b - windows c - luggage racks Full cherry wood interior with simple glass inlays, light and airy. Four seats per isle, hard seating with roll-up Bright Tern livery cushions affixed every bench.

No sign of a dining car - justified by our size and destination, but still a shame. Yet man can't be picky (blessing sign)

Card included: Train sighting log Day seen: 5th of 2nd month 8xx Place seen: departing from Jahna, Fifth Canton Mandate, Sangfielle Name: Bright Tern Postal Livery: faded cobalt and white Number of carriages: 6 (six) total, with 4 passenger and 2 mail and baggage Boarded: y/n Ticket number if applicable: C3/I2/S3

Page 3 5:55 - drafting for now? After filling out my observation card and taking in the detail, i took a window seat in isle 2 to absorb both the gorgeous scenery of Ojan plains and the bright c (crossed out) airy confines (?) of my train. Bright Tern pamphlet, kindly provided to me at the station, tells the traveler that their person shall be delivered swiftly and safely to Unschola held inns by nightfall. Seasoned ferroequinology fan such as myself in turn knows this ain't always true and schedules are more suggestions than rule.

6:50 Fell asleep promptly despite excitement. Car filled with low relaxed conversation and i can only hope i wasn't snoring like a complete fool.

(next to a sketch of a tea glass holder) akin to burl wood? lightweight and porous to touch

Page 4 Interior unchanged save for three glass holders, such as added to every isle table. I truly am in luck (blessing sign) since I've never seen these in situ before! Why three? Would i have neighbors? Reread my early notes - in need of editing, desperately. SHAPES ON THE TRAIN! 1 masked 1 avian (with arrow pointing from 7:04 timestamp)

7:20, i gather since i had a moment of awe and frankly dared not bring attention to myself at the moment. Yet clearly they do not mind me.

Page 5 Immediately past 7 car visited by a slight ojant. woman of quiet but nasty demeanor wearing Tern colors, heavy tea cart in front, steaming. Was tempted to strike a conversation, but reconsidered. Neither of the Shapes said a word yet. They don't touch the tea either, which is plain silly to me - never have i heard about train foods being nefarious to one's person.

(underlined) No snacks offered yet!

8:40 Insufferable people. Still silent, not even (page break)

Page 6 (page break) a glance in the window. Spent all my patience on detailing one sketch. M. seems to be asleep or sitting terrifyingly still.

8:43 IMPOSSIBLE PEOPLE! Wish they let me be. A. caught me sketching and very rudely grabbed my book. Nearly made me tear a page. If every Shape starts attacking inno- (crossed out) Both are still silent. A. ignored and possibly disrespected my Society badge. Book returned to me moderately crumpled. 9:17 Tern entered a tunnel as we were coming up to the mountain foothills. Terribly intrigued but can't see the devil's arse in there. A. got tired of harassing me and is now fast asleep. M. in turn finally aware of life.

(with arrow pointing at the tea maid sketch) back to our car. for what, just to glower at the shapes?

Page 7 9:20 - still in the dark All curtains rolled down as one! How i wish i knew the mechanism behind this. This further startled an impressionable young man in isle 5, and i admit i was secretly taken with the feeling too, but all were reassured by a returning passenger.

Managed to strike a conversation! Emidio seemed happy to discuss the Tern with me, and i've put a great amount of his observation down in shorthand. Told we're due to arrive at Ravine just some 10 minutes after leaving the tunnel, yet when - varies greatly. Despite being as persistent as i dared, didn't get too much about the dark route we're taking. Hiw can it be that we spend a different time under the peaks QAD and yet make stops with enviable punctuality? My greatest desire is to find any personnel besides the gloomy tea woman, yet not so likely with the Shapes around.

If i am to trust Emidio's words, some of the paper trash rolling under the seats he swears is a rudimentary emdemic life form akin to rootless plants of the west. Still unsure if that's a joke of his.

Page 8 (next to the sketch of a scene) Ravine-Postal 9:50 10:10 Finally back to open sky. Shapes out for a smoke and look almost careless. Sent a postcard back to Society in Jahna. Bought steamed buns of decent taste. Really need to find Emidio and get a good expo for Ravine, but he's nowhere to be found. Way too many insects ouside.

Page 9 10:40 - RvneP -> Cantbank Well, they do talk! Shapes have congratulated me on being through "the worst of it", whatever they meant. Both of them are now quite loud and inconsiderate. A. only laughed when i mentioned his rudeness. I miss the morning quiet.

11:00 Passed a mountain lake which amused us all greatly. At first i thought we're being blinded by the suns, yet the bright shimmer came from dozens of fish, moving through with their sides to the light. A. is particularly taken with the picture.

(next to the sketch) Emidio and the tea maid

Page 10 Spotted Emidio who i started to worry about, since none has seen him since our stop in Ravine. Almost glad to see the tea maid and her cart back in time for the afternoon round.

11:10 - switching tracks? Apparently taking a detour, which everyone is understandable annoyed about. Can't hear even half of the announcement over Shapes as usual. How can M. make so much noise by just walking! Curtains closed back again, so gather i should also walk over and finally as- (text interrupted)

#friends at the table #sangfielle #secret samol #if you see logical mistakes in the text - no you don't #i am tired and the train writer is bad at it

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theinstagrahame · 1 month ago

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Another big month of TTRPG mail calls! Got a bunch of zines, some Crowd funders, and treated myself to a book or two when I got my new job lined up.

Here's what's exciting from the last month:

Death of the Author: I've said before that we (as in I) love the work of Sam "@goblinmixtape" Leigh, and before I got into TTRPGs, I wanted to do fiction writing (I found that I got from TTRPGs what I wanted from writing). So the pitch felt like an instant yes: A solo RPG about writing fiction, and the relationship between author and character.

The World we Left Behind: Sam Leigh put this together apparently for a Ballet, which is incredibly cool, and then put it as an add-on for the Death of the Author campaign. Needless to say, I was all in.

Urban Shadows 2e: Backed this on Kickstarter before Magpie did the A:tlA campaign, and it's finally showed up now. If I'm honest, my interest has waned, but I know US 1e was really good.

Zephyr: The art and the concept behind this are great, and I know that the creator makes some really neat mechanics.

Glitch: I picked this (well, 0 edition of Glitch) up on Kickstarter years ago, because the pitch was so good, but I didn't get a hard copy then. Managed to use some DTRPG money I had to rectify this mistake. Jenna Katerin Moran's work is very philosophically interesting, but I was hooked by the notion of being a demigod who knows that there's more going on, but is going to deal with street level concerns.

The Flood: Also a Moran game, and came to be as part of The Far Roofs (which I'm sure will be featured in a future mail bag post). There's a beauty to Jenna's work, a blending of metaphor and reality that I'm really drawn to, so I'm very curious about how farming poetry will work out.

Reach of the Roach God: When I landed my new job, I pretty quickly landed on what I wanted to pick up. I found out about the Thousand Thousand Island books a little too late, so I wanted to make sure I snagged this beautiful volume before I couldn't find it anymore. It's a real triumph of a book, and I can't wait to dig deeper.

Ironsworn: Sundered Isles: I am on record as loving Ironsworn and Starforged. What if instead of Space, we had Pirates?! Hell yeah, sign me up. Ironsworn/Starforged are probably the solo RPGs I've had the most success playing, in that I got furthest into these before getting distracted by other things. So maybe I'll get myself into another one?

The Wizard's Library: I've been really intrigued by Vincent Baker's Wizards Grinoire series, although I've read (and not yet played) only the first. It's got a neat reverse relationship, where the "GM" player is the titular Wizard, and the other players run the supporting cast, helping the Wizard delve into the grimoires that they discover Fortunately, this book contains more grimoires for the titular wizard to go through, and with them, more dangers for the wizard to face.

Fabula Ultima: I've heard only good things about this self-billed "TT-JRPG" and I'm really curious about it. Final Fantasy and the Pokemon series both being such long-term loves of mine, I'm very curious to see how this one runs. (Also picked up the Quickstart for a future Mailbag.)

Wet Grandpa: Listened to an episode of RTFM about this, after seeing the name around for years, and finally picked it up. I always found the title off-putting, and really couldn't get past it until my favorite TTRPG Book Club Podcast dragged me through the cover. The physical edition is a beautiful, rugged-looking book and my mind keeps reeling at the possibility of making players make hard choices.

Psychodungeon: I really dug the pitch, and Kayla Dice makes some really fun and interesting games. Be part of a team that helps people manage their trauma after it manifests into a psychic dungeon. What intrigued me most was the use of the Belonging Outside Belonging system for this, which I think really opens up some interesting possibilities for the Workplace Drama angle, and the GMless aspect could lead to some extremely fascinating dungeons.

Stewpot: This one as a no-brainer. I've got lots of friends who are into the "cozy" genre of game, and Stewpot has been The Name in fantasy coziness for a while (for lack of a better terminology, as I know it's a loaded term). The special edition (and wooden dice) were too tempting, even though the crowdfunder hit during my Freelance Era, and cost a few extra...

Any%: I watched the HBomberGuy video about Speedrunning (shortly after his Plagiarism video dropped), and developed a soft spot for the hobby. I genuinely couldn't do it, I'm too ADHD to try the same thing over and over again in hopes of shaving a fraction of a second off of my response time. But, I'm glad that people are doing it. So, a solo RPG that plays with speedrunning and its terminology seems like a great way to feel like I'm doing it without all the Bad Brain Juices.

Pregame Lobby volumes 1 and 3: I also wanted to grab these before they became too hard to find (I can't find anywhere that has Volume 2 at the moment). I really like the vibes of .Dungeon, it feels like a game that evokes a period in my life where I was curious about the Internet and tried just about every MMORPG that wasn't WoW or EverQuest. I'm honestly struggling to not pick up the recent Spiral Bound edition, despite getting the hardback 2e, because the art and layout looks goddamn incredible.

And these books are from the Plus One EXP Zine Club, which is a Zine of the Month Club, hand-picked and hand-curated. So I'm excited because I don't actually know much about them.

Metalepsis

Fire & Stone

Hapsy Kordo's Kitchen Horrors

This Old House

Hive of the Crawling Creeps

Fallen from Grace

#indie ttrpg #ttrpg #ttrpg design #ttrpg mail call #indie ttrpgs #fantasy ttrpg #scifi rpg #fabula ultima #.dungeon #stewpot #ironsworn #solo ttrpg

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wilwheaton · 8 months ago

Note

One very simple question :)

(Tv/comics)

Marvel. Or DC?

I have liked them both and disliked them both, at different points in my life, for a variety of reasons. At the moment, I'm not paying attention to them at all.

When I was a kid, I was all about Xmen and Fantastic Four from Marvel and, Batman and Justice League (Marv Wolfman's run in the late 80s) from DC. Never really cared for Superman. The 1967 Spider-Man was awesome as a cartoon, but I rarely read the comic book.

In the 70s, I was only allowed one comic per week, usually picked out from whatever was left on that spinning rack at the drugstore. So more often than not, I ended up with something like House of Secrets or House of Mystery or one of those horror anthologies that didn't need me to read the issues before or after, like the serialized superhero comics did. I got a lot of replay value from those books.

In the 80s, I had my own money and the ability to drive myself to comic conventions, and that's when I fell in love with Sandman, Watchmen, pretty much the entire Prestige Format that became Vertigo. I recall feeling like Marvel was for kids, then, and DC was serious. I was only 16, so take that for what it's worth.

But speaking of being 16, I'm gonna focus on Batman for a sec. I loved Batman 89, and I think all the efforts to make a Batman movie ever since have fallen short in ways I couldn't predict back then. It's gotten better with age and by comparison, for me. Michael Keaton is my favorite Batman, the way Christian Bale is my favorite modern Bruce Wayne (they both pale next to Pure. West. if anyone asks me).

The OG Batman series is maybe my favorite series of all time not called Star Trek or The Prisoner, and the 1966 movie is my favorite of all the Batman movies. Of course I love the animated series, and I get to be Blue Beetle in Brave and the Bold, so that's pretty awesome and its whole own thing.

Turning to the current moment, with rare exception, all the MCU and DCU movies do nothing for me. I thought I must have been missing something, so tried really hard to give them a chance to knock me out. I watched as many of the MCU movies as I could stand, and I just felt exhausted and bored by all of it, by the time I got to ... I can't even remember. Something with maybe Thanos and Ant-Man? I felt like it was a big, complicated mess of fan service and meetings that could have been e-mails, resulting in in a stew full of interesting ingredients that have all blended together into a flavorless paste. I do enjoy all the James Gunn movies, though, even if Chris Pratt is the worst Chris, because James always centers the characters and their conflicts, then uses the action and stunts to support the story.

I feel like a lot of this sounds harsh, but even Star Wars, my favorite movie when I was a kid, has grown into something I don't recognize or care about. I'm old. I know what I like and what I don't like. I'm not patient like I once was, and it's clear I'm not the person those studios want in the theatre, anyway. I could make that joke about how it's the children who are wrong, but I accept that I am not in the demo, and I am genuinely happy for everyone who loves the spectacle and the experience of seeing those films with an enthusiastic audience. I just won't be there with you, but you can find me in the parking lot, yelling at a cloud.

...wow that's a very big answer to a very simple question.

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cmdrfupa · 3 months ago

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XXXV

Satoru "I'm just a man" Gojo. Happy Birthday to our sweet loser :*

Satoru stood in the middle of his living room, arms crossed, a pout creeping onto his usually smug face. His blindfold rested lazily around his neck, revealing eyes that were far too beautiful for someone sulking. He glanced at his phone again. No messages. No sly emojis. No secretive texts from neither his friends nor students.

“I’m gonna head to the grocery store here in a bit. Did you add what you wanted to the list?” You dug through your bag fishing out your wallet before taking a glance over at Satoru. “Toru? You good?”

Satoru turned to you, huffing and dragging his feet until he laid his head on your shoulder.

“No birthday brunch, no room full of my favorite people, no Nanamin telling me I can sit on his lap. Baby, I'm 35 today and my friends don't care!”

“Honey.”

“Yes my darling wife.”

“Remember when I asked you 7 months ago what you wanted to do for your birthday?” You gently rubbed his back as he draped his large frame onto you.

“Mhm.”

“And every other time every month til yesterday even?”

Satoru turned to you, his lashes lightly brushing against your neck. “Yes.” he pouted.

“And remember when you said that the only thing you needed to celebrate was a full day of peace and some sweets with your sweet?”

“And you took me seriously! Of all the times to take me seriously baby, seriously.” He lifted himself and gently took you by the shoulders.

“So you don’t want to spend the day with me and eat homemade bon-bons and ice cream cake?”

“Any day with you is heaven my sweet goji berry,” Satoru planted a warm kiss on your temple and fished out his card to slide it into your bag.

“Tread lightly baby girl. I hear that ‘but’ coming.” you glared.

“No buts. Just how much I love yours.” He pursed his lips, almost duck lip like, for a kiss and you couldn’t help but oblige. You did the same, pursing your lips and met his before he embraced you.

“It won't take me long to get the things we need to make our bon-bons. I’m also going to stop by the mail station. I’ll be back soon.

“I can manage an hour by myself on my 35th birthday. I’m brave.”

You softly grabbed his chin. “The bravest. I’ll see you in a bit.” You kissed his cheek and left out the door.

“Not even a surprise from my boys,” he muttered, flopping dramatically onto the couch. “Unbelievable. I am maxing their Christmas list items to 15. They’ll see how it feels then.”

As he wallowed, his eye caught something on the coffee table: a colorful flyer with bold letters.

~~~"Citywide Scavenger Hunt! Follow the clues for an adventure to remember."~~~

A crooked smile broke across his face. “Well, well, well, what’s this?”

Clue One was printed at the bottom:

*"Where the storm passed and sweetness brewed, love first whispered, quiet but true."*

Gojo tilted his head, pondering. It sounded oddly familiar. Shrugging, he grabbed his coat and headed out, intrigued despite himself.

---------

The cafe was as quaint as ever, tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop. It was the kind of place you could walk by a hundred times without noticing unless you were looking for it. Led by his own hunch, Gojo stopped in front of the window, his sharp gaze scanning the hand-written menus and neatly arranged pastries.

At first, it didn’t click. He was about to walk away when the memory hit him like a stray curse punch. “Storm, brew, whispers.”

“Ohhh, thiiiis place!” he exclaimed, startling a couple passing by. “This is where we hid from that rainstorm!”

Satoru had put together a last minute picnic that got rained out within 5 minutes that day. He found the nearest cafe, where you’d spent 4 hours giggling and establishing the relationship you now had.

He stepped closer to the window, remembering how you’d insisted on ordering for him. You’d teased that he was “sweet enough” for a matcha latte—a line he hadn’t let you live down for weeks. And that day...

“That’s right,” he whispered to himself. “That was the first time I wanted to say ‘I love you.’”

On the window, taped neatly near the corner, was the next clue:

*"Where koi dance and words lingered long, love spoke bold, with hope it belonged."*

Gojo’s lips quirked upward. “Koi pond, huh? You’re making me work for this, aren’t you?”

He reached for his phone to text you but stopped himself. If this was your doing, he didn’t want to ruin it by cheating. Instead, he turned on his heel and made his way to the park. “City wide scavenger hunt my ass. My baby loves me!”

________

The koi pond glistened under the afternoon sun, tiny ripples reflecting light like scattered diamonds. Gojo meandered along the path, hands in his pockets, until he spotted someone sitting on a familiar park bench.

“Nanamin!” Gojo shouted, startling a flock of pigeons nearby.

Nanami barely flinched, his attention fixed on a book he held in one hand.

“What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’ve finally realized I was right on how much sun you need? You’re welcome!” Gojo plopped down beside him, grinning ear to ear.

Nanami sighed audibly, closing his book with deliberate slowness. “I’m going to let you talk because it’s your birthday. But please, be quieter.”

Gojo seemed surprised at Nanami remembering the best day of everyone’s life. Though the appreciative look stopped once he recalled his own complaints from this morning.

“So you DO remember my birthday, Nanami.”

“Hard to forget the day that changed the course of history, Gojo.”

“And yet,” Gojo pulled out his phone, pulled up his call logs and shoved the phone in Nanami’s face. “I receive not even a quick call to celebrate my great entry into this world.”

Nanami closed his book as he turned to Gojo. “I have been busy this morning. And you’re 35. The fruit basket I’m sending will be enough.”

“The only thing that will be enough is if you let me sit in your lap.” Gojo batted his eyes as if he were flirting to save his life.

“No.”

“Pleeeeease. It’s just 5 seconds of lap time.”

“No.” Nanami deadpanned.

After 18 years of knowing one another, Nanami was fully aware that this wasn’t going to be the last time he’d be asked this. Mostly because this was the 56th time being asked and Gojo seemed desperate.

The blonde sighed and patted his leg. “You have eight seconds. Then immediately get up or i’m pushing you off.”

Gojo’s face lit up like a kids and jumped into Nanami’s lap. He sat still then after only 4 seconds, Gojo stood up. “Eh. That was underwhelming. A bit of a waste.”

Before Nanami forgot why he was there, he reached into his inside suit pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Take this before I forget my promise of being kind to you.”

He handed Gojo the envelope, his expression as unreadable as ever.

Gojo opened it, pulling out another neatly written clue:

*"Where koi dance and words lingered long, love spoke bold, with hope it belonged."*

“Wait a second.” Gojo stared at the pond. Memories flooded back—You and him sitting here late one evening, legs brushing as he rambled about some silly story. You laughed and he looked over at you, his heart unexpectedly full, and blurted it out.

“Hey, this is the place I told them I loved them,” he said, grinning. “This time I said it and they said it back! Pretty sure they cried. Tears of joy, of course..”

Nanami gave him a flat look. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thank you!” Gojo chirped, standing up. “So, is this whole thing their idea?”

Nanami didn’t answer, simply picking up his book again.

Gojo wagged a finger at him. “You know something, don’t you? But fine. I’ll play along.”

As he walked away, Nanami muttered under his breath, “They deserve a medal for dealing with him.”

-——————-

The rooftop was quiet except for the faint hum of the city below. Gojo stood by the edge, gazing out at the skyline. It wasn’t the most impressive view in Tokyo, but it was meaningful. He remembered this spot vividly: the night you both had huddled under a single blanket, sipping canned coffee as the stars struggled to shine through the city lights only a few days after his fight with Sukuna. He smiled at the passing birds and the sound of the bustling city below.

“Hey, are you just going to stand there looking like a complete dumbass?” a voice called out.

Gojo turned to see Utahime leaning against the rooftop door frame, arms crossed.

“Utahime! Long time no see. Are you here to confess your love for me too?” Gojo joked as he took a step away from the edge.

She rolled her eyes, walking over to him. “No. I’m here because I was asked to hand you this.” She held out another envelope.

Gojo took it, but not before giving her a cheeky grin. “So, you do care about me. I knew it.”

“Just open the damn envelope,” she snapped.

The note inside read:

*"Where stars met our gaze and silence spoke, love stood firm, unbroke. Now make your way to the place that holds the memories old and untold."*

Utahime smirked at the way his expression softened. “It’s cute, honestly. How whipped you are.”

“Excuse me,” Gojo said, straightening up, “I am not whipped. I am simply... deeply adored. By many.”

“You look like a lovesick puppy reading that note. Whipped.”

“I don't have it in me to be whipped. I’m a little too masculine for that.”

“Whatever you say, you lovestruck idiot.” She shook her head, waving him off. “Try not to trip over yourself getting to your next destination.”

Gojo pinched her cheek before heading out, his heart racing now.

---

Gojo unlocked the door to your shared apartment, and his jaw dropped.

The living room was transformed. Balloons hung from the ceiling in shades of blue and white, streamers looped along the walls, and a table was set with delicate china, tiered trays of sandwiches, macarons, and cakes. In the center of it all stood you, holding a teapot, your face glowing with excitement as his friends and former students stood around singing happy birthday.

“Happy Birthday, my sweet Satoru,” you said warmly.

For a moment, he didn’t move. He took it all in—the decorations, the scavenger hunt, the care and thought behind every detail. Then, with a burst of energy, he swept you into his arms, spinning you around.

“You’re incredible!” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “All this for me?”

You laughed, holding onto his shoulders. “Of course. I wanted to surprise you with something fun. Those places weren’t random, you know.”

“I know.” He set you down, brushing a strand of hair from your face before he held your face gently. “Those were the places I told you had moments I fell for you all over again. Every single time.”

Your smile widened. “I hoped you’d remember.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “How could I forget anything about you?”

-—————

The tea party was everything Gojo didn’t know he needed. Nanami sat stiffly in one corner, grudgingly eating cake telling Yaga of the koi pond. Utahime sipped tea with Shoko, who had brought a bottle of sake "just in case." Even Megumi had been coerced into attending, sitting quietly as Gojo tried to shove a macaron into his mouth.

Throughout it all, Gojo’s eyes kept drifting back to you. You, who had orchestrated this entire day. You, who had filled his life with meaning he hadn’t known he needed.

As the guests left and the apartment quieted, he pulled you into his arms once more.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice low and sincere.

“For what?”

“For loving me,” he said simply. “And for reminding me why I love the life I have with you.”

You smiled, resting your head on his chest. “Happy Birthday, Satoru.”

For once, Gojo didn’t have a witty comeback. He just held you, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. “Happy Birthday to me.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jjk gojo #Lu.logs #jujutsu satoru #gojou satoru x reader #Gojo x you

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daisyful-gvf · 2 years ago

Text

roommates // by daisyful

18+

*********************************************************

pairings: jake x reader

word count: 5k

tags: sex toys, roommates!au, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pwp basically, pet names because i can’t help myself, dirty talking

notes: i never thought i’d write this many fics with a vibrator involved, but here we are lmao. This happened bc of this post . minimally edited.

*********************************************************

“You’re fucking kidding me”

Of course, today of all days, the batteries would die. You huff out a few more curses and remove the lifeless vibrator from between your legs, throwing it on the bed beside you.

For a moment you lay there and frown, wondering if this is a sign you should just go to bed. Today had tested you far too frequently, and you couldn’t deal with much more. The thought of trying to get off any other way after you’d been so close with the toy seemed not worth the hassle.

Then, your brain throws you a hail mary: there’s batteries in the kitchen drawer. Perfect.

You tug on a pair of cotton underwear and smooth out your oversized t-shirt. It settles at the tops of your thighs, and you figure that’s decent enough for a run to the kitchen at 2:00 in the morning.

Your body carries you to the kitchen through the darkness, only broken by the light of the TV your roommate must have left on.

It causes you to roll your eyes—an old western is playing. You never had the pallet for them, even in an ironic sense. But Jake—your roommate of about a year now—loved them, for some reasons he had droned on about before when you expressed your disinterest.

You go straight for the drawer by the fridge, full of scissors and charging cords and pennies and mail, fishing around for the AA batteries.

“Whatcha need?”

“Fuck!” Your chest pounds as you clutch dramatically at your shirt, whirling around to see the source of the voice.

Jake blinks at you, eyebrows raised in amusement. He lays on the couch, in his plaid pajama pants and t shirt, feet covered by a throw blanket.

“You up to something sneaky? Why so jumpy?” He grins.

“Fuck off,” you roll your eyes, “It’s dark, I didn’t see you,” you grumble.

“Jesus,” he laughs, “Bad day?”

You just nod, rummaging again through the drawer for the batteries.

“You need help?” He asks, his voice getting closer as he walks into the kitchen.

“Where are our batteries?” You murmur, closing that drawer and trying the next.

He ‘hmm’s for a second, and then answers, “Why the hell do you need batteries at 2am? You building something?”

“Yes, a robot,” you deadpan, “Mind your business. Do you know where they are?”

“Damn, what’s wrong?” you can hear the smile in his voice and you finally look up at him, growing impatient.

“Do you know where they are or not?”

He looks you over, seemingly trying to understand the situation, and then, you realize that you’re in only your shirt and underwear. You can see him swallow and avert his eyes to the cabinet as he seems to realize the same.

“I think so,” he says softly, “Hang on.”

He fetches a shoe box from the hallway closet and brings it back to the kitchen, plopping it on the counter. There’s various tools and nails and command hooks, and then, alas, he pulls out a small container of AA batteries. Gently, he puts them in your hand.

“There,” he says softly, “You good?”

You nod and mutter a soft thank you before making a quick escape, looking forward to no longer being in front of him in your underwear.

You know it’s no big deal, and that you two have gotten comfortable. But there’s this tension, sometimes. Mostly like this, at night, sometimes intoxicated. Where the stares between you two linger a bit too long, and your mind begins to wonder. You always push it down, because it’s not a good idea, and you know that. And when the light of day comes around, you’re always relieved that things feel normal again.

So that’s what you do; push it aside. Back to the matter at hand: you latch your bedroom door behind you and head straight for the vibrator, popping it’s plastic plate off and fishing out the old batteries. And then you realize. They’re the wrong size.

You take a shaking breath, irritated and tired. Without thinking, you throw it back on the bed and walk back out into the living room, where Jake has cozied up on the couch.

“Do we have triple A?” You ask flatly.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you. His eyes land on your bare thighs again, then flick back up quickly to your gaze.

“Triple A? Batteries?”

“Honey, what is this for?” He mumbles, getting off the couch again to help.

“It’s nothing,” you huff out, beginning to go through the shoebox again.

“Gotta tell me if you want help,” he smirks. You look up and he’s got a cocky hand on his hip, standing a couple of feet away. His hair is messy in the dim blue light, and he looks amused with himself.

No longer in possession of any patience to make up a story or fight off his questioning, you answer.

“My vibrator.”

His lips part in gentle shock, and the cocky expression leaves his face at once.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “You just had to know, huh?”

You laugh, because he looks so shy and unlike himself all the sudden. Possibly delirious from the late hour, he laughs too.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. You can see him blushing even in the low light.

“It’s fine,” you rush out, “I’ve just had a bad day, I’m just—” you give up looking through the box, rubbing a hand over your face, “I’m just frustrated. And I just needed—nevermind,” you shake your head, “It’s dead, I just need the batteries.”

He nods and pulls the shoebox closer to him on the counter, picking through the nails and thumbtacks and tape.

“Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Honey,” he says quietly, “But I don’t think we have any.”

“It’s fine,” you sigh, “I’m gonna go to bed,” you pad a few steps away from him, “Goodnight. This didn’t happen,” you point a finger at him.

He salutes you and grins, headed back to the couch. Shoving your embarrassment down, you head to your room again and prepare for sleep. You can’t be bothered to mess with it again.

You’re just picking up the vibrator and putting the back piece back on when there’s a soft knock at the door.

Tucking the toy behind your back, you crack it open to reveal none other than Jake.

“Um,” he holds up the TV remote, “This has triple A batteries,” he says softly.

You look between the remote and him, a furious blush making its way across your face that he would care so much as to come tell you.

“Oh,” you say, eloquence evading you.

He passes it towards you and you open the door further, taking it from him in your open hand. You other stays tucked behind your back, hiding the toy in a way that feels very scandalous.

“Don’t you need this?” You ask, “You’re watching TV.”

He shrugs, “Not as bad as you do, apparently,” he grins and you can’t help but chuckle. “No, but, seriously, I’m probably gonna go to bed.”

You nod slowly, “Okay. Um,” you swallow. You should feel more nervous than you do. More embarrassed. There’s a bit of it, sure, but not much. It feels oddly comfortable. “Thank you.” You murmur.

He nods, and then licks his lip. You stare, because it seems to be almost in slow motion, and his bottom lip is left glossy. Here it is again: the tension. So easy to form in the late hours of the night.

“Mmhm,” he acknowledges your gratitude and he takes a breath, like he’s about to speak, but then his lips shut. He does it again, like he’s working up to saying it.

“Do you wanna make sure they work?” He asks, “Cause I can—if not, I can check my room, or something, um,” his hand grips the doorway and his fingers fidget with the wood. He’s doing a terrible job of acting casual about it, but you find it endearing.

“Sure,” you murmur, “Um,” you fumble with the toy behind your back, “Here, hang on.”

You turn around, just enough that he might not be able to plainly see it in your hand as you mess with it. But you can’t pop open the remote and the toy with both things in your hand, you realize quickly.

“Here,” he says gently, pushing your door open and touching you on the shoulder. He comes around to your side and takes the remote from your hand.

You watch him as he does, and while he looks a little bashful, you appreciate him not acknowledging what’s in your other hand.

With daft fingers, he removes the batteries from the remote as you take them out of the vibrator. You toss the old ones on your bed, and let him place the new ones in your palm. When you click them into place, the toy immediately buzzes to life.

“Oh—shit—“ you breathe, fumbling quickly to turn off the toy. You look at him in a panic, and mutter a soft, “Sorry. Thank you.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anything. He’s got an odd expression, and you think twice before asking, but then you can’t help it.

“What?” you ask.

“Uh,” he chuckles, “I don’t—um,” he runs his hand through his hair and looks back and forth between you and the vibrator, “Nothing.”

He doesn’t move, though. Doesn’t walk to the door, even a little bit.

“Jake,” you sigh, “What is it?”

“I just—“ he starts, and then he nibbles on his bottom lip again, “I probably…shouldn’t…”

You raise your brows at him, wondering what the hell he’s talking about.

“I just—“ he clears his throat, “If—if you had a hard day and you need…I mean, if you need to get off and—and if you just need, y’know, if you don’t wanna have to do a lot of work, I mean, if you’ve had a hard day—“

“Jake,” you giggle at his nonsense, “What?”

He collects himself with a breath, “I can help,” he says finally, “If you’d want that.”

“Help?” Your mouth goes dry at the thought that he’s saying what you think he is.

He nods, “Help. Just this once. Forget about it tomorrow, act like it never happened, all that good stuff, y’know.”

You know you’re standing there with a ridiculous expression on your face, but you can’t help it. You’re stunned.

“Oh,” you finally manage.

He just looks at you, perhaps scared to say anything else.

“You can say no,” he gives you the out, “Or you can say yes. It’s up to you.”

You note how quickly your thighs clench together at the thought, and how your cheeks heat. It’s undeniable that the offer sounds nice. Your day did suck, it would be nice to not have to think about it, just have someone else do the work. Especially someone as attractive as him, who you feel safe with, who you know would take care of you.

“Hm, Honey?” He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “I don’t even have to touch you, I can just use the toy, but maybe—“

“Sure,” you surprise yourself with the answer.

“Yeah?” He trails the back of his knuckles over your jaw, “Sound nice?”

A shaky breath leaves you as his fingers graze softly.

“Okay,” he murmurs, “And really,” he licks his lips, “We’ll forget all about it tomorrow. S’just a favor.”

“Okay,” you agree.

“Wanna lay down?” His voice is lower, gentle still, but almost gravelly.

You nod and sit near the top of your bed, watching him intently as he pushes the remote aside and touches your ankle softly. There’s nothing but the soft whir of the fan for a moment as he looks up at you. Suddenly, he looks so much like himself. So familiar. It puts you at ease, and he must see it.

He traces his palm up from your ankle to the inside of your thigh, where he touches softly.

“That okay?” He murmurs. When you nod, he settles more, laying on his stomach between your ankles.

His palms are large and warm over your thighs, where they work to help you relax through broad sweeps over your skin. The only light is from the salt lamp on your dresser, so he glows soft orange.

You can feel the tension unwind as he sweeps his palm again and presses a kiss to the inside of your knee.

“Can I have that?” he smiles as he nods toward your hand, still clutched around the vibrator.

Quietly, you pass the slender silicone wand to him. He takes it in his large hand and flips it, the side with the button in his palm. He skims it down the inside of your thigh, warming you up to the touch. It steals your breath.

“Relax,” he soothes, kissing your thigh again, “Just me.”

You nod, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

“Help slide these off for me?” He nudges the hem of your shirt up on your hip and tugs at one side of your underwear.

Doing as he asks, you slip fingers under the other side and with him, you drag them down and off your ankles.

He tosses them to the floor and comes back to you, skirting the toy up your thigh again, closer and closer. He’s looking up at you for a moment, and you hold the eye contact and your breath, but then finally he spares a glance to your center.

His breath shudders from him and his eyes close momentarily. When they open, for the first time you see him turned on. You can’t pinpoint what it is in his demeanor, but it’s undeniable. It lights a fire in your belly so quickly you wonder why you didn’t do this ages ago.

“Honey…” he sighs, then a groan sounds from the back of his throat, “I don’t wanna keep you waiting, is that okay? Or you wanna go slow?”

“No,” you answer quickly, “Don’t have to go slow.”

He nods and hits the button on the toy, sending it buzzing to life. You can just barely hear the sharp intake of breath from him.

A bit too slow, even, for your liking, he drags the toy up your thigh again, before finally letting the it rest over your clit. You try not to cry out, instead biting down on your lip hard, and pushing your hips up into the touch.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says calmly, “You don’t need to be quiet. Helps me know better what to do if you’re not quiet.”

“Oka—” it’s cut off with a groan as he nestles it more firmly against you.

“Feel good?” He asks, voice still low. You nod frantically, “You can—“ you sigh, a bit scared to say it. Too turned on to think much more, you just do, “You can touch me, if you want.”

He looks up at you quickly, and oh, his eyelids are heavy with lust.

“Yeah?” he says, as if he’s not sure he’s heard you right.

“Mmhm,” you nod, “Please.”

“Fuck,” it rushes out of him, “Yeah, Honey.”

He moves the vibrator aside for a moment, letting it rest just to the side of you. He removes the hand that was holding your thigh and licks the pad of his thumb before he brings it to you, greeting your clit with slow circles. The touch burns a trail through your body, immediately heating your face and chest.

“Jake,” the way you say his name is nearing pathetic.

“Yeah?” He sounds almost in pain, his voice is tight.

“More,” you shudder.

“How—Jesus Christ“ he clears his throat, “Do you wanna tell me how you like it, or you just want me to—“

“Just—,” you feel frantic, like your skin is too hot, and you don’t know what you need. You reach for him, and your hand lands in the crown of his hair, “Please, something—I—”

“Okay,” he soothes, “Okay.”

Slowly still, he moves the toy down and eases against the slick of your entrance, and when you push your hips into it, he takes it as permission to ease it into you.

“Fuck,” you bite out.

“Good?” he checks in, kissing your leg.

“Yeah,” you gasp.

“Good,” he murmurs, and then he’s settling down, pressing kisses further and further along your inner thigh, until finally, he meets your clit in a gentle kiss.

“Jake,” you groan, loud, “Ohmygod.”

He hums against you, and then before you can even catch your breath, he licks a full stripe, stealing whatever sanity you could have possibly had left.

“Don’t stop,” you know you’re whining but you can’t help it, not even a bit. He licks and sucks slowly, letting the buzz from the toy and the warmth from his mouth carry you to your end. Your hand stays buried in his hair at the roots, where you try not to squeeze it too hard.

It’s almost humorous, that earlier you were trying so desperately to get off, and now that it's a hair’s width away, you wish you weren’t so close. You don’t want the sweet warmth of his tongue to leave. Sadly, you don’t have a choice.

“Gonna cum,” you warn him, so he can back off if he wants, but he just groans into you, and keeps his motions steady.

You can’t breathe when it hits you, nor can you help the way your thighs tense around him. You’re pretty sure you almost pass out for a moment, as your vision goes all white when your eyes roll back. After it passes, and you can take a deep gasp of air again, he’s coming up for air.

“Fuck me,” he groans, “Fuck.”

You blink a few times so you can finally see him in the dim light again. He slides the vibrator from you and clicks it off, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Almost like he can’t help it, he gets up on his knees and grips the length of himself through the pajamas, his eyes rolling back and his lips falling open.

His eyes snap open to meet yours, and his hand falls away.

“Sorry,” he sighs quickly, “Sorry, I—“ he shakes his head, at a loss.

“It’s okay,” your chest heaves as you recover still from the orgasm.

You try to read him, to know where to go with this. Do you thank him? Do you offer to return the favor? That wasn’t part of this, though, maybe—

“Can I do it again?”

Your eyes meet his in some fiery standoff.

“What?”

He licks his lips, “Can I make you cum again?”

When you’re still silent for a moment, he adds, “Please?”

The groan that comes from you is much too loud and enthusiastic, and before you know it you’re reaching for him.

“Come here,” you plead, and he obliges, slotting with you and hovering over you, meeting you in a warm kiss.

“Fuck,” he says against your mouth, “I promise we can still forget about this tomorrow, if you want—“

“Shut up,” you smile, kissing him harder. He groans back and snakes a hand between your legs, where suddenly he’s nudging two fingers against you.

“Is—“

“Yes,” You answer before he can ask.

You gasp when they sink in, warm and full, so much better than the stupid vibrator.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he says against your cheek, as he’s nipping and licking a trail down your face, “I would—“ he swallows, you can hear it close to your ear, “I would fucking love to be inside you.”

“Oh my god,” it rushes out of you without thought, “Please.”

He groans, but pulls back.

“Are you sure—“

“Yes, Jake,”

“No, Honey, listen to me,” he holds your jaw in his hand, “We can still just pretend this didn’t happen tomorrow if you want, but please think about it for a second. I’m alright with it. Are you?”

You take a deep breath, and yeah, even when you think about it, even when it’s him, you want it. And you know he’d never hold it against you.

“Yeah,” you nod, “Yes.”

His lips curl into a wide grin, and then he’s back against your mouth, matching your fervor with his warm tongue. His fingers work still inside you, curling perfectly over and over.

You want him so badly all at once you can barely stand it, and without a second thought, it comes out of you:

“Can I ride you?”

His fingers halt and he groans so loud you almost wonder if he’s hurt, his head falls to your shoulder. Quickly, he collects himself, pulling his head up to look at you. He’s disheveled, and it’s hot. His hair is everywhere, his lips are swollen.

“As hot as that is, no, babe, this is still about you. Don’t want you to have to do any of the work.”

You’re trying to respond, but the way he said babe rings around in your head deafeningly loud.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he kisses your cheek, “I promise.”

Numb from the pleasure, you nod as he withdraws his fingers. He smiles as he slips off the bed and tugs his shirt over his head. You follow his form, tugging your shirt over yours. His eyes slow for a moment over your chest, and you both take each other in.

You’ve seen him shirtless, as he cooks breakfast, or when he comes home from a jog. You know he has soft sides, a defined chest, and wonderfully strong shoulders. It still makes you speechless.

Even more, when he tugs the string of his pajama pants loose and eases them gently down his hips, letting them fall to the floor, you can’t find words. The curve from his hips to his waist makes your mouth open in an intrigued shock. And god, the thick length of himself that he takes quickly into his hand is enough to stun you forever. You’re shocked you can find words to answer him when he asks,

“You want this?”

It’s low and sultry as he palms himself. His head is cocked just to the side, making dazed eye contact with you.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “I—can I touch you?”

He bites on his bottom lip and nods, stepping closer to the side of the bed so that he’s within reach. Timidly, you reach up to take him into your hand. His hand moves, allowing it, and as your fingers wrap around him, your thighs clench. He releases a slow, shaky breath when you stroke him.

He’s warm, and thicker than at first glance. You can’t resist a peek up at his face as you move your hand slowly over him. His eyes are locked onto your hand, his lips parted in a sigh.

“Feels nice,” he thrusts experimentally into your grip, and his eyes roll back, “Your hand is so soft.”

You can’t help but giggle at that, and his eyes flit to your face. He chuckles too, pushing into your hand again.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “You ready?”

Nodding quickly, you greet him on the bed by sliding your legs back open, letting him kneel between them.

“Slide down a bit, babe,” he says quietly, touching your hip with delicate fingers.

You lay flat on the bed, letting him lean over you and prop himself up with his forearm by your head.

“Hi,” he grins.

“Hey there,” you giggle.

“Gonna kiss you again,” he murmurs as he leans in, his plush lips meeting yours in a lovely embrace. As you’re busy licking at his tongue, he rolls his hips against you, and you’re gasping at the warmth of him sliding against your clit.

“Shit,” he gasps into your mouth, “You’re gonna soak me, Honey. You always this wet, or am I doing that good a job?”

“I refuse to inflate your ego even more this evening,” you smile into the kiss.

“Understandable,” he’s smiling too, “I hope you can tell by how fucking hard I am that you’re doing something to me, too,” he grinds fully into you again and you’re whimpering as he licks at your lower lip.

“Jake,” you whine.

“Tell me, Honey, what is it?”

“Just fuck me, please.”

“Mmm,” he hums as his lips press to your cheek, “Gonna fuck you until you can’t remember the bad day you had, or anything else.”

If you say anything coherent, you can’t recall. It’s mostly a desperate groan, begging without words.

He reaches down and eases himself in, and you force your eyes open to watch his expression as he does. His mouth gapes, his eyes roll back. You wish you could watch it a million times.

And god, he’s warm as he stretches you, as his hips roll flush to you. He’s just big enough that it approaches a mild sting, but it’s welcomed. He props his other forearm on the other side of your head, and his hair falls around you, blanketing you in his body heat.

Just when you’re sure his hips are flush to you, he rolls them hard, sending your eyes back into your head.

“You like that, hm?” He shudders, “You feel so damn good.”

You just nod, struggling to keep your eyes open to look at him.

“Baby,” he says, sugar sweet, “Just take it, Honey, you don’t have to do anything else.”

He pulls his hips back and then rolls back into you, and suddenly that sneaking warmth is building in you again.

With his nose, he nuzzles your head to the side. As he begins to work at a slow, deep pace, he sucks gently on your pulse point. Your head is all blurry stars, your eyes rolling back far too often to see anything, and all you can smell is his shampoo and sweat.

You’re not sure if you’re making noise; you don’t think so, it feels like you can barely breathe. But then, Jake says,

“I know, babe, I know, let go.”

And you’re guessing you’ve said something to clue him into the fact that you’re on the precipice of a second orgasm.

With a sturdy roll of his hips, you’re scratching at the soft skin of his sides and drawing a whimper from as you clench around him like a vice, slamming into a somehow even more visceral orgasm than the first.

As it washes over you, you can hear yourself saying his name like a mantra.

“So good,” he’s still fucking slowly into you.

“Don’t fucking stop,” you whine, “Please, Jake, don’t stop.”

“Not gonna stop,” he kisses your cheek, “Gonna give it to you til you’re a cock-drunk mess, Honey, don’t worry.”

You shudder off a string of curses at his vulgar response, and you draw him even closer, one hand on his side, and the other wrapping into his hair. He resumes sucking on the side of your neck, something that makes your stomach flutter. He bottoms out over and over at a wonderous pace, somehow each thrust just as good as the last.

“You like this? Slow and deep?” He murmurs the question against your skin and punctuates the question with a lick.

“Yes,” you whimper.

“You wanna cum around me again?”

“Yeah,” you gasp, “Yeah, fucking—please,”

“Take your time, Honey,” he breathes, “I’m not going anywhere. Just gonna fuck and fuck you.”

“Kiss me,” you plead. He answers you quickly, his warm mouth on yours in an instant, warm and fervent. It’s embarrassingly quick, how soon you feel like you can cum again. But you can’t find the shame; he’s working himself perfectly against you.

“Close,” you confess against his lips.

“Good,” his voice is distant, “Let me have it.”

It hits you slow and unhurried, creeping hot vines up your torso and neck, gripping at your cheeks and burning a bolt of pleasure through you. You’re a floating, dizzy version of yourself when you come down.

“Fucking beautiful,” he’s sighing, “Gonna cum, Honey, you feel too good.”

He pulls out and balances on one of his arms as he shoves a hand down around himself. He looks the most beautiful that he ever has, in your opinion, as he cums.

His cheeks are flushed and his brow furrows, and his bitten lips curse softly when he loses it. For a moment he glances down between you, watching as he makes a mess.

You could watch it on repeat forever, and almost lament the moment before it passes.

Finally, he looks up at you. It’s quiet for a second before he grins.

“Hi, Honey,” he smiled wide.

“Hi,” you giggle. He unsticks a piece of his hair from your face as he catches his breath.

“Gonna kiss you again if that’s alright,” he sighs. You nod quickly, and he’s kissing you soft and slow. It’s so tender, you know you probably shouldn’t want it as bad as you do.

He must be on the same page, though, because he just kisses and kisses, licking slowly at your tongue and your teeth.

Some long while later, he comes up for air.

“Let me get my shirt for you,” he says, easing himself off the bed.

He fetches his discarded tee and cleans you with it gently, then wipes himself quickly before he climbs back beside you.

“So,” he breathes, reaching out to skim a finger over your chest, “Why was your day so bad, hm?”

“Jake,” you laugh. You can’t fathom why he’s asking you this right now, and you can’t recall a single thing that happened before the moment he was in your bed.

“What?”

“Tell me about your day. What was it, hm? That got you so frustrated you had to make yourself cum so bad,” he smirks.

“Jake, Jesus Christ,” you blush, “I have no idea anymore, it was just—“

“So it worked?”

You blink at him.

“I fucked you ‘til you forgot?”

If he was trying to make you laugh, it works, as the giggle that escapes you is borderline maniacal. He joins though, laughing lightheartedly beside you.

“Sorry,” he laughs, “Dumb joke.”

As the giggling winds down, the room is quiet. The thought pops into your head with conviction, and it feels only right to say it aloud:

“You know… I wouldn’t be mad if we didn’t forget this tomorrow,” you offer quietly.

He sighs and smiles at you, his eyes sparkly. He looks like himself; like the Jake you know, but closer, and warmer than before.

“I was kinda hoping you would say that.”

fin.

*tag list in progress of being updated*

#gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fics #greta van smut #gvf smut #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka x reader

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martyfive · 8 months ago

Text

i didn’t know what the legend of zelda was when breath of the wild came out. i was probably in a middle of something very important at the moment, alright? something like sitting on a subway train on my way home. or like being in a middle of another family scandal. or failing another attempt of becoming someone i never wanted to be. busy stuff. i never even heard of the name zelda unless we were talking about zelda fitzgerald. i was nineteen and i wasn’t fucking around.

moreover, i didn’t know what zelda was about even when i bought breath of the wild itself.

what i always knew for sure is that i had never been and never would be a princess. every time i was told during our family dinners that those like me were never meant to be married to a handsome rich prince to live happily ever after, i was trying to find comfort in the vocally unannounced title of a friendly local knight in the shining armour bestowed upon me. the one who was there to shine and save and protect those in need. the one who wasn’t supposed to care about their appearances, being securely hidden behind a chain mail and metal shell that still never saved from bruises. a knight with a bear trap instead of a helmet. born to be the best and somehow failing every day. almost like a dream come true. not my own dream, but a dream nonetheless.

the life in our kingdom was a total disaster and i was a wreck of a knight.

by the time i escaped i had been depressed for approximately twelve years. i left everything i knew behind and moved to another country. i actually married my prince to make the paperwork easier for both of us. i found myself roaming in the wilderness i knew nothing about. i tried to take the bear trap off but every time i attempted to free myself from it it was hard to breathe through the neck that was losing its familiar balance. i didn’t know how to be an adult. i didn’t even know how to be a child. i wanted to learn, but i didn’t know where to start.

“what do you want for your birthday?” my prince asked me.

i didn’t feel like i deserved gifts. i did not achieve anything to receive them. the knight was technically laid off duty and the salary once paid in clothes and food was still haunting me. and i needed something else. we also needed something else to bond over except for our childhood bruises.

so i received nintendo switch for my birthday in a year i almost broke my neck trying to forcefully remove my fancy helmet as soon as i realised i couldn’t walk around like this anymore.

“games could be a part of a therapy,” the lady that was helping me with my breathing exercises said while i was pouring my blood trauma on the carpet in her office, “but they’re not gonna remove this bear trap of yours, you know?”

i knew that. i also knew i didn’t really want to live, trapped or not. so it made sense to me to start living my new life from the very beginning — to start from trying to be a child i barely ever was — and to try and learn how to be an adult like most healthy children did. meaning, to give myself time. to make choices i was robbed of. mistakes too, if necessary. to take a breath before heading off to run a marathon i never foresaw.

so yeah, i didn’t really know what the legend of zelda was when i bought breath of the wild. i only knew zelda was a princess i had never been and never would be. what i knew for sure is that the main character named link was supposed to save her.

and that he was her knight.

the whole thing sounded like a sick joke, but i was determined to know what the fuss was all about. looking back a couple years later, i’ve been wondering how it was even possible for me to stumble upon this exact game when i needed it that much.

while on my journey across the kingdom i wasn’t familiar with, with my own land shaded by the war and destruction, with no recollection of who i was and who i was to become, with a trapped in a castle tired princess named zelda, with the only light shining on the horizon gloomed by the darkness, i felt bad for link. what did he ever do to deserve all of this? i thought. why is this his burden to carry? is this normal for a character to stay silent before the impossible challenge he was supposedly destined to face and just… move forward no matter what?

i didn’t even know at the time how the zelda universe worked. that the event of link saving the world was something that threaded through the kingdom’s history like a football cup everyone was expecting to inconsistently happen once in a while. there was only this link and his own crazy challenges for me, and his destiny felt like a weight on the neck i, personally, being a broken knight i was at the time, wouldn’t be able to drag to the end.

but i had to.

i ran through the green fields from one destroyed town to the other and thought of link’s footsteps echoing in me as if every abandoned ruin was a part of my own depression i was supposed to face. every location had a name and each felt like it was important for someone who lived here a hundred years ago before the war took everything from them. the names meant nothing neither for me, nor for link and his amnesia, but for someone who wasn’t there anymore it was everything. and i had to accept it. there still was something to save. i had to look the destruction and what was left of the kingdom in the eyes and find a way to save what i can so the future would have a solid foundation they could build upon.

zelda couldn’t have saved the kingdom by herself. she had been trapped in that castle for a hundred years and she needed help of her knight. the task no single person deserved to condemn their soul with. i had no particular feelings about zelda herself, but it was a kingdom worth saving and there was only one knight that could do that. somehow, it had to be me.

so i visited every corner of the land and found everything there was to uncover, talked to everyone i could, solved everything there was to think of and turned up all the stones to find all the koroks. i just had to.

a couple months later i defeated the calamity and finally saved zelda. i took a breath and i let it out. and after that i felt better and empty once again. but it was something else this time.

it was the foundation. it was bare, but at least it was there.

i came a long way since finishing breath of the wild. i learned a new language. i grew up. i gave up my antidepressants to try and live without them. we moved from one city to the other. i got a dog that made me go outside and laugh every day. i started to make money. i started eating healthier. i started talking to people more. i took the responsibility. one by one, i pried the screws of the bear trap on my neck. it was still there, but it became easier for me to breathe. i realised that the kingdom i was raised in was never meant to be the only thing to define me. i was building my own on the ruins of what withstood. there was no other way to survive. and i just had to.

waking up as link once again years later and looking out to see the skies of tears of the kingdom, i cried. i felt like i met an old friend that was once everything to me and who i lost contact with for years, and then finally hugged them again. it was like finding myself a couple years later from where i was left dealing with my own shit and realising that my journey was worth it.

the ruins were still there, you see? but now we had so much else! there was another civilisation hidden in the clouds in the sky! and the whole another biome underground! giant temples to get confused about while looking at the map! there were new people to meet! new cataclysms to endure! new puzzles to solve! new koroks to find! damn, what a mess. i couldn’t wait to be a part of it!

and, of course, there was zelda to be saved.

zelda, who spent thousands of years in a form of a dragon waiting for her knight to take the previously shattered master sword she healed and to kill ganondorf. zelda, who was supposed to forget everything that made her human, but still was fighting for the light in the end. zelda, who was robbed of her life by the choice she made to protect those she loved, and who was blessed with another chance in the end. even a thousand years curse was finite. somehow, i found myself in love a princess i was never meant to become.

and it felt right.

and when link caught zelda falling from the sky over hyrule, i realised that the kingdom i was building with my own hands would always be there. and it was only my destiny to get to the rotten roots hidden underground in the darkness where no life was meant to exist but was flourishing in it’s own way instead, and to remove the sickness from it. to heal and to be healed.

and then i took my bear trap helmet off and smouldered it into a crown.

maybe i was never meant to be a princess. but in the kingdom that i built on my own, with all of its countless layers and clouds in the sky, with its ruins and old stones, with its depths and lurking horrors, with its riddles and joy, traps and secrets, songs and laughter, disasters and questions, dragons and princesses, with all the troubles and their resolutions…

there, i was only meant to be the king.

20/6/2024

#artists on tumblr #tattoos #the legend of zelda #tloz botw #tloz totk #martyfive text #zelda totk #zelda botw #zelda fanart #totk link #botw link #i promised it’s gonna be my next tattoo and here it finally is #my art #art #tattoo design #thanks to my brother for reading this text three times and making sure everything makes sense he’s the true king here

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the-fiction-witch · 11 months ago

Text

The Tourney

Media - House Of The Dragon

Character - Daemon Targaryen

Couple - Daemon X Reader

Reader - Y/n (Lady Non-Specific House)

Rating - Sweet + Flirty

Word Count - 877

I smiled as I held my dress as I walked through the gravel stones, passed tents, carts and people busy with the preparations for the tourney in celebration of the birth king's son. The birth had yet to happen, but many said it wouldn't be long. I held the skirt of my black dress up from the dirty gravel stones. Blood and mud coated the stones as people came and went from the main tourney arena. I snuck my way through the mess of tents until I found the one I had been looking for and I quickly went inside before I was spotted. Pulling back the red tent flap to slip myself inside, I saw the various fine objects littered about the dark Valyrian steel armour with details of scales, dragons and red lining half laid out and the other half being added to him.

Daemon stood in his tent wearing his underclothes, as well as black leather to protect his skin, already in boots, greaves, poleyn, a young squire boy trying to assist him with his black steel cuirass and dragon scale faulds that reached his mid-thigh but causing more trouble than he was assistance. The look on Daemon's face read of frustration with the boy.

"Enough." he demanded before his attention turned to me, "You may go, boy."

The boy didn't say a word he just nodded and quickly left without even looking up from his own feet,

"Must you worry me," I told him,

"How am I worrying you?" He scoffed,

I went over and began to help adjust it and actually get it on correctly, "You know how these things frighten me,"

"Everything I do frightens you," he chuckled looking into my eyes but I focused only on his amour,

"Yes. Perhaps you should do something about that?" I teased him,

"If I stopped doing everything that frightened you, I'd be stuck in the castle watching you knit for the rest of my life,"

"That such a bad thing?"

"it excites you as well as frightens you. Admit it."

"You should wear mail," I remind him ignoring his comment,

"Not in a tourney, I need to be fast, and agile." He answered,

"Others in the tourney wear mail."

"And others lose."

"Doesn't mean you shouldn't," I told him as I picked up the breastplate and buckled him into it, he watched me often as my hands slid over his body, buckling it at each side and ensuring each the three panels covered in dragon scales where still flexible enough to move with the two dragons on his pecks and back.

"Would it please you if I did?"

"Not if you lost," I admitted as I took the tassets with the same three layers and the dragon worked into the metal, from the side and moved to my knees to attach them to his breastplate straps, as I did he stroked my jaw and picked my head up to meet his eyes,

"You look very perfect down there,"

"Do I?" I raised an eyebrow,

"Is my sweet lady going to kiss me for luck?"

"Perhaps,"

"Can she kiss me now?"

"I'm busy," I remind him tugging on his amour, "I need to be down here,"

"I don't recall mentioning you standing." he smirked, I just rolled my eyes and returned my focus, "Do not worry for me," he said more seriously,

"I cannot." I admit, "No matter what I will be fearful,"

"Even if I tell you not to,"

"Even so my prince," I nodded as I got to my feet, I helped him into the more simple things, vambrace, rerebrace, couter, gauntlets and his very dramatically sculpted pauldron. All of which the same dark steel with scales, and red lining all dramatically sculpted as a dragon prince would need to live up to such a title. As I attached the gorget around his neck he smiled at me, he took my hand in his and brought it to his lips pressing a small kiss,

"You know you are on my mind, always. I do not act without first thought of you. I will not be reckless I promise."

"Thank you," I smiled

I took his belt from the side and wrapped it tightly,

"So dramatic." He glared slightly at my tightening,

"I am not the one needing to be called out. for dramatics." I glared as I passed his dramatic dragon helmet with metal wings and a long red and black plume,

He took it in hand and gave me an unamused look, "Do I not get a good luck kiss?"

I rolled my eyes playfully and gave his lips a soft and tender kiss, he happily kissed back and set his hands on my waist before he pulled back with a smile, "Good luck,"

"Thank you, my lady," He cooed, "I will perform. With your trust, your belief and your luck behind me. Always." He says kissing my head, "I would take your favour if I could, and have it with me as I go,"

"I know you would," I nodded,

"I'll save a flower for you," he chuckled before he headed to the door to grab his Targaryen shield and his lance,

"Daemon?" I turned,

"Yes Y/n?" he stopped at the tent flaps,

"Be careful my love," I pleaded,

"I will be. I promise my darling," he nodded before he headed out to fetch his horse and begin the tourney.

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crowsofdarkness · 28 days ago

Text

Vaz Prizrak: Chapter Nine

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

“Oh fuck,” I muttered while clutching the edge of a dresser as I tried to steady myself.

That was not a fun ride as I hoped for.

Finally getting my bearings, I looked around the room hoping I knew where I had ended up. The room was small, only having a twin sized bed and the dresser I was leaning up against. The only other piece of furniture was an old chair in the corner next to the door. With the decor, it told me that I was definitely back in time but I didn’t know how far back.

I grabbed the newspaper on the dresser, seeing the date, and my eyes nearly fell out of my head.

1936.

“What the fuck?” I cursed.

I looked around the room again for any sign and when my eyes landed on two old pictures taped to the wall above the bed frame, my heart sped up when the realization hit. He stood next to his sister and the other small picture next to it was him with his mom.

My feet treeked towards the two pictures and ran my finger over his face.

“Oh, Bucky,” I breathed.

I had spent the next few moments walking throughout Bucky’s old home, taking in every inch of the old wallpaper and cracked floors. The home was littered with family photos and a giggle fell through my lips when I saw a baby photo of Bucky.

There was a large stack of mail on the kitchen table and when I read the address, I knew exactly where Bucky’s old house stood, me growing up a few blocks over.

Loud footsteps sounded on the other side of the front door, creaking against the old stairs. Without a second thought, I ran back to Bucky’s room, pocketed the two pictures and slipped inside the closet, leaving the door open a crack.

Young Bucky entered the room, dressed in a sharp suit, and he collapsed onto his bed. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths and I stared lovingly at the soft features of his face. His large hands covered his face with a loud sigh. His flesh left hand made my heart sink, knowing that Bucky had no idea what the future had in store for him.

He stood from bed, shaking off his suit jacket, tossing it on the chair in the other end of the room. His fingers worked at the buttons of his dress shirt and I bit my lip when I saw the smooth skin of his back then his chest. Even back in the day, Bucky had a gorgeous body. There were no scars in sight, his skin so innocent.

“How’d it go?”

I snapped my gaze over to the doorway of the room, seeing a familiar face. She was the female version of Bucky.

Bucky gave his sister a shrug. “Alright. He said he’s fine but I know deep down he’s hurting.”

“Well it’s a good thing Steve has you. He buried his mom today, he needs a friend.”

Bucky nodded. “I know, Rebecca. I’m going to head back to his place in a bit. You’ll be fine?”

His sister giggled. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop worrying about me? If you don’t, you’ll never find a wife.”

“I’m starting to think she’s not out there,” Bucky admitted.

“She’s out there, Buck. You have to be patient.”

Bucky was alone once more and with his eyes trained hard to the ground below his feet, I noticed the way his back muscles tensed; something unreadable going on in his mind. Suddenly our eyes locked, him noticing someone was hiding in his closet. My heart hammered so hard through the cage in my chest as I fought with myself not to run into his arms.

“Bucky,” I sighed.

“Y/N, it’s time.”

Steve’s voice came through my com.

“No,” I cried.

Bucky was actually standing in front of me, in the flesh, and I wasn’t dancing with his ghost anymore. I wasn’t talking to him in my mind or my dreams. His physical form was in front of me and I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay here with him.

Blackness took over as I felt my body being pulled away from Bucky and back to the present time.

My knees fell hard to the metal platform of our makeshift time machine and felt my body shake with sobs, knowing what I had lost again. I ripped the mask off with anger, toppling down the steps to Nat’s feet.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Steve cooed while kneeling in front of me.

His hands cupped my cheeks, forcing me to look into his eyes, his thumb brushing away stray tears.

“It’s okay, we’ll try again,” Steve reassured me, thinking that I was crying because it hadn’t worked.

I shook my head that was still in his grasp.

“It worked,” I stated, pulling out the pictures from my pocket and handing them to Steve.

His green eyes drank in the familiar faces of Bucky, his sisters, and mom. The sides of his lips curled up to a smile at the pictures.

“He had these taped to the wall above his bed,” Steve mumbled.

“Did it work?” Tony yelled, breaking us from our trance.

“Yeah, it did,” Steve smiled at me.

“It is? Perfect, I’ll wire the money over to the account right now. Thank you so much.”

After I hung up the phone, I quickly wired the money, completing the transaction I spent the last two hours trying to find.

Slipping my phone into my back pocket, I walked back into the common area of the Avengers Tower, multiple pairs of eyes on me.

“What?” I asked while standing next to Steve.

Tony pointed towards me. “Who did you wire money to?”

My eyes sliced over to Steve. “Eavesdropping on my conversations still?”

“Super soldier hearing,” he pulled at his earlobe.

“It’s no one's business,” I turned my attention back to Tony.

His face flinched. “Wow, five years away turned you into kind of a bitch.”

“Well not all of us got our happy ending, Stark.” I snapped.

“Y/N,” Steve grabbed my hand when he noticed the flames burning at my fingertips.

I snatched my hand away from him before walking out of the room, muttering something about needing some air and time away from everyone.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes and reader #the winter soldier #marvel #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x agent!reader #james barnes smut #james barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #soldat bucky barnes #vaz prizrak bucky barnes #dorogaya bucky barnes

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