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jjongswannabebae · 5 months ago

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Marriage of convenience (18+) < rich!jay x rich!fem!reader, hurt/comfort fic, lots of making out, kissing, arguments, angst, smut 18+, a lot of tears. note: first time writing smut- not proofread!! MDNI, please reblog >

Not that you minded, being set up with on a date on a mundane Wednesday wasn't on your checklist. Considering skipping it, you drawled the process of making small talk with some random geek who had cash.

Ugh. Being the only daughter of a rich man had its own plight.

"Jude, Can't I skip today's appointment with Mr. P?" You complain to your manager, Jude shirt for Judith. She keeps her eyes in the road, save for a glance, only opening her mouth,

"Do you even know who you're meeting?"

You nod profusely, "another rich kid with attitude," you finish, staring bored out the car window, watching the way birds fly, free of restraint. How you wished to live to like that.

Money can go far but you couldn't get freedom with said money.

"Well, hate to break it to you, this guy, "Mr. Park" is different,"

"You always say that," you drawl a whine puffing up your cheeks with air. "I'll stake some money if makes you happy"

Money? You had plenty but jude wasn't someone who'd set losing bets. Curious, you beam to accept her bet, having a spike in your mood.

Jude dropped you off at the posh cafe your date had scheduled to meet. Wondering who exactly this man was, convincing enough to get the stingy jude to bet bills.

Surely, he would be anything but disappointing.

Oh and how right you were.

He stood leaning back on the counter, decked in a neatly ironed silk shirt stretched across his defined shoulders, shirt buttoned down with his chest slightly exposed, sleek formal pants running down his legs loosely hung off his waist.

Okay, you admit he had great fashion sense but what about his face?

Sunglasses decked his perfect slicked jet hair, gaunt face with a killer jawline, brown eyes sharp and lips small yet kissable, ears pierced, vieny arms folded to his chest.

Jude won the bet the moment you locked eyes with him.

He was absolutely beautiful and you'd experienced what you thought was love at first sight.

He drew a smile and walked closer animatedly. Shit. Your feet were frozen to the ground as your lips parted with surprise. He stuck his hand out, "nice to meet you, I'm park jay" he offered, politely. Yet your mind and actions faltered and were a heartbeat late on grabbing onto his hand.

The rest was history. Married a year and a half later, nobody could predict the marriage would be this loveless and stagnant. Not that the public knew.

Jay Park. Hier to the one and only park estate, leading hotel series bringing wads of cash. Along with your own established wealth from your dad's company, which you assumed you'd be taking over soon.

But those dreams were crushed when jay came home with the news that a merger would take place, a year after your marriage.

Now all that you had to do was stay at home and look after him and the kids. But wait.

What kids? A loveless marriage was one thing but a sexless one was unheard of.

Yet intercourse was the only intimacy you shared with him. Hes perfect in every aspect yet incapable of affection, you'd deemed a year into the relationship.

Any show of affection like cuddling or spending time you'd initiate would fall flat or would be denied, or worst yet he'd never be there for you to initiate it. Work, home, sleep, eat. That's all he did and that's why it was all the worse.

He acted like you were invisible except the days he came home drunk and fucked you senseless. You'd consent to that but it felt meaningless, like a repeated one night stand yet you lived with the guy and were married to him.

So when your parents haunted you with the pressure of having children, you'd burst into tears upon your arrival home. You hated the fact you were so shallow and unlovable to the one man you swore to.

You ignored the pressure from your parents to have a child yet the tension mounted.

You and jay were to eat lunch with his parents and then came the infamous line, "I would love to see my grandchildren anytime soon," said Mrs. Park nonchalantly and you swear you saw jays left brow twitch. It hurt.

There was nothing wrong with you, or him for any matter. Just that your marriage never even felt like one to begin with.

"So soon?" Jay questioned, setting down his fork to the plate. You could his temple crease ever so slightly. You'd observed the man sitting next to you for a long time when he'd be with you was when he would sleep. You'd spend countless hours staring at his beautiful face, yearning for his attention, and even more far fetched, his love.

"it'll be two years soon, son" replied Mr. Park giving a stern glare towards his son, eyes flickering over you momentarily before they returned to his plate yet again.

Worthless. That was the look in mr parks eyes. He'd probably thought how hard it'd be to seduce his son, or rather get him into bed.

You sat wordless in the car, watching out the window as you did the time Jude dropped you off him to meet him for the first time. Jay sat beside you, facing the window as well. Rain poured heavy, matching your gloomy vibe from the happenings at lunch with the parks. Right, you were a Park.

Love at first sight was real when you met jay for the first time. Yet he never reciprocated anything you felt.

Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill yet you held them back with all your might. Not here, not infront of jay. Never had you cried when he was present. It was unnerving to see his expressionless face watch you cry.

Yet your thoughts only grew worse and before you knew it, a tear fled from your eye and a sob broke from your mouth. It was hard, feeling unwanted and isolated all the time. Those emotions flew out like a river, gaining the attention of your husband.

"you okay?" He spoke softly, like you'd shatter if he spoke any louder, and at that you sobbed harder till you broke down weeping in the car as the driver flicked his eyes to the back seat repeatedly, wondering what commotion was taking place.

Jay asked the driver to drop you two off at their hotel, and the tyres swerved to the right, soon infront the entrance. Jay urged you to calm down and get down the vehicle. You complied and wiped your tears away, standing there as the cold wind hit your face. Yet again you felt like crying.

Jay grabbed you by the hand and tried to haul you inside as fast as possible, but you slapped his hand away, "I'll take myself there," His eyebrow twitched and raised, leaning closer to your ear to whisper, "there're eyes on us, the paparazzi is right here so just get inside," he seethed through his teeth.

At his words you panned your head around, merely for jay to put his arms to your knees and neck and pick you up and head for the roundabout back entrance. Absolutely stunned that he lifted you up with no struggle, you watched him maneuver with your mouth slightly parted.

On the elevator to the largest suite, accessible by family, you asked to let down. "No," he replied, keeping his eyes on the doors of the elevator. You didn't protest further and cozied up to his chest. He took three strides to the door and whipped it open and peered inside.

He let you down and trapped you to the door, his forehead pressing against yours. His breathing was erratic, his eyes showed emotion. *What's wrong," he let out in between exasperated breaths.

And the tears came again.

"Everything," you quip and wiping away you erratic tears with the back of your hand, leveraging your weight in the door to stand up straighter and look him dead set in his eyes.

"Do you even know anything about me? What I like to do, what I like to eat, what's my favourite color... Do you even love the person you're married too?"

He opens his mouth devoid of swords, eyes guilty shoulders heavy of burden. "You like to dance, you like spicy food, and your favourite color is," he starts small, working his mind through all the things he knew about you, "purple?"

"blue,"

"oh."

"what was the name of the dog I had when I was younger?"

Silence.

"Bruno," you answer, disappointment filling your being as you stare the guilt stricken man facing you. "At this rate you probably never felt anything for me, let alone love." He leaned his head to the door behind you, keeping his hand to your shoulder and whispering to your ear, "do you know why I've been distant with you?"

"if what you mean by distant is ignoring my every attempt and instant of me trying to express my emotions to you in the past two years, then, no. Probably except the fact you don't like me but needed someone to fill in the position of your wife." You huff, letting your true feelings show, the pack of interaction between you two hurt you a lot more than you thought.

"Perhaps your criteria was to find someone smart but quiet, pretty but not attention seeking and lastly a nice body would be a plus point, I suppose," you finish, one hand settling on his nape and the other his back. You keep your eyes trained on his, batting them ever so often so you wouldn't cry with word you uttered.

At first, jay showed no signs of response except guilt, then his face contorted to confusion and lastly to anger. The crease on his forehead from burying his eyebrows downward as he almost glared at you with a fire lit in his eyes.

"So you think I'm using you," he says, and you nod, solely for him to sneer and pull back from your hold, stepping closer and claiming you up the door as he swung his arm round your waist and one hand to your face, tilting it upto him, and dipping his head down to your eye level. Your lips were mere centimetres apart from collision. Eyeing your lips he grazed his thumb past your lips.

"You talk like you know the whole story, darling. It's not a good habit to make assumptions," he said drawing a line down your lips, his finger slipping past making a small smacking sound

"well then what's your reasoning to leaving me devoid of affection? Before you say you sent gifts, I know your assistant picked them, the clothes he sent were chosen with little to no fashion sense, whereas you have an exceptional dressing style so don't say you bought me those items, darling." You muse replicate his fiery response with sass.

He watches you with contemplating whether to tell or not. "We were only supposed to be married for a year." He starts slow, taking in your facials, watching as your eyes widened and practically urged him to continue. "The merger wasn't going to happen, you were supposed to take over," he said calmly, knowing how much of a touchy subject this was to you, having prepared your whole life to head the company and ultimately not being able too.

"But the results shown over the one year we were meant tobe together showed immensely worthy and the merger took place, therefore nullifying our one year marriage,"

Like rains drops now fell from the sky, the sunny days his behind the clouds like your tears behind your eyelids. Jay couldn't bare to see you look so vulnerable. He felt as though he was the cause for these misunderstandings, which he was not completely but partly.

"I, I never signed any contract,"

"It wasn't meant to be signed by us, it was unanimous decision,"

"So now they want us to act like a couple? Do they even know how hurt I felt to be ignored for a year, how it felt to feel unwanted and unlovable?" A stray tear strolled down your cheeks as anger creeped up your voice. It was unfathomable to you, to be lied to by your own parents, and possibly jay too.

"Had you known we'd last for only a year?"

"...yes" he paused, waiting for the information to sink into you, hoping it wouldn't shatter you more. Your head spun in circles as you struggled to get away from him, pushing as his chest as tears streamed down your face, brushing past him to sit on the couch to relieve your dizziness.

You sat there and cried while jay watched you unwind into a tears, unsure of what to do. 'I didn't want to fall for you, because I'd have to leave eventually but I couldn't stop myself from catching feelings when I was around you. I decided it would be best for me not to be there for you and I'm aware of my mistake here... But apologizing won't make the hurt and damage you faced go away. You're free to take your call, whether it may be divorce or not, and don't worry about our parents, I'll handle them."

You panned your head up at the word divorce, shifting to your feet and striding over to jay, where he stood previously, stuck in place. You faced and a loud smacked echoed across the room, his head turned 180 degrees, his cheek red with the strike of your palm.

"Atleast tell me you'll love me now, asshole,"

He put a palm to his cheek, running the area you struck him, watching your tear dried somber face, more threatening to brim out the ledge. "I'm sorry." He apologized, hanging his head low with shame and guilt.

"One thing you've never done to me," eyes conveying different sorts of emotions, "is kiss me."

He looked rather surprised at the observation, "I knew if I kissed you, there'd be no going back, both mentally and physically."

"Jay weve fucked before for hours yet you never kissed me once, didn't you think I'd find it strange? And when were you going to tell me about this whole one year marriage clause being nullified, meaning we'd spend the rest of our lives together part? Not that I didn't think we'd spend our whole lives together but I guess we thought different."

"I was planning to, but the time was never right, so..."

You turned your back to him and walked to the suites bedroom and to the bathroom, jay following behind slowly. Splashing water to your face and drying it off, seeing an awkward jay hanging around in the tension of the air. "Sit," you ordered, pointing to the ledge of the bed. Confused, he still complied, comfying himself on the edge of the bed.

"Good,"you commented, hiking up on the bed and onto jays lap to his surprise, situating yourself atop of him, staring back down to his glasses over pupils, red and swollen from the lack of sleep and fatigue. "Are you tired, darling" this time saying the nickname endearingly. "Not really,"

"then kiss me,"

Flustered by your demand, he began stuttering, "Are you sure? Like really?" You nodded along, "yes,"

"then I guess I could," he became nervous, but built up the the courage to put his hand to the back of head and slowly press down in it till your lips met his. The motion started out awkward, then jay relaxed after a few seconds or so and found a rhythm you could match.

The dynamic of the intensified as jay began settling into reality that he was kissing his wife. Swiveling his tongue around yours he began tasting every corner of your mouth, exploring every inch. You attempted to pull away due to lack of air but he held you back your hair aggressively tugging to his lapping tongue.

You moaned his mouth, hand squeezing his shoulder for stability, swiping over your bottom lip, and softly biting your lip, he let go of the insane grip he had on you. You heaved your chest up and down, messing your hair. You pushed down to the bed, sitting on top of him.

He tugged your arm towards him and you were face to face with jay. He brushed past hair intruding your picturesque visual. He lifted up your shirt enough to expose your stomach and rubbed past the expanse soothingly. He picked you and flipped you over and onto your back and made you scoot to the headrest.

The two of your made out for another few minutes or so only pulling back when in dire need of oxygen. Your lips were swollen but you were addicted. Even though the two if you had got intimate before, it was nothing compared to the emotions you felt through this. You sat up on the bed to catch your breath and ruffled through his hair endearingly.

With your approval he yanked your shirt off, then he stripped off his shirt, trapping you in between his legs. "You kiss me," he breathed out and situated his hands behind back to suport both his and your weight. You lunged at him and connected your lips to his, grinding down where your body met as he let out the soft noises from his mouth as he moved to kiss at his jaw, your hands running the expanse of his well built chest and back.

You obsessed over marking his jaw and neck for a good few minutes before travelling down to his nape, marking and sucked the area. You peppered kisses back up to his lips, taking his bottom lip between your teeth,feeling the vibrations of his groans down to your wet spot and grinded harder but free tired and settled on top of his clothes hardness.

He returned the favour by making you mean with every touch, electrifying you body. You but as his ear when his began to touch you through your remaining clothes, still keeping his lips fixated on yours. Approaching closer to your high you became hypersensitive of his every action he performed on you.

He set you on him and forced you down onto his hard-on till you cried of pleasure, riding off the whiteness by laying you down on the bed and dropping up on his elbows to kiss you. You felt immense pleasure and relief, showing your gratitude by jerking him off.

Tired, you laid on the bed in his arms, still thinking about the events that took place. "At this rate, we could just expect a kid," you say, laughing it off as a joke, "then we'll have to get to work.* He replied with a giggle and you buried yourself in his chest with a smile.

#enhypen #enhypen jay #enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enha imagines #enhypen angst #enha #park jay #enhypen imagines #jay enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enha jay #enha angst #jay park #jay x reader #park jongseong #enhypen hard headcanons

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thesuperiorrobin · 1 year ago

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𝐈𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥~

Pairing: Husband!Damian Wayne x Wife!Reader

Word count: 759

Warning: suggestive at the very end

People know you and Damian belong together, no doubt about it. With making your relationship public and years later your marriage, which was also the talking gossip around Gotham for a month or two, everyone knows. But some people are too stubborn to the fact, you learn that very early in your relationship when women would just throw themselves at your lover's arm clinging to him as he tries to pray them off with an annoying expression, thinking that the son of Bruce Wayne would have the same Playboy persona just like his father, but they’re wrong forgetting the Damian Wayne is in fact, the most loyal man when it had came down to your dating and now marriage.

He would rather be with you than any other woman on earth, and for some, it was hard to face reality. You’re grown used to it over the years. But sometimes it just grows a spark inside of you. Much like tonight, in the Wayne manor that now belongs to the two of you. After Bruce’s retirement, it’s now Damian’s job to throw those galas and charity events, much to his dismay.

Secretly you do the work because he wasn’t given the gift of organization at all. So now you stand back, watching everyone. Happy with the way the nights going as you sip on your glass of champagne, it’s different front the rest. Damian thinks you deserve better than the champagne and wine that’s given out to the others. You spot his brothers in the crowd and other familiar faces that belong to a few close friends. The last face you spot was your husband, chatting away with men from his workplace. A forced smile on his face. It makes you chuckle, as a kid he hated them, and even as an adult he still does. But it’s more tolerable, well kinda.

You spot a random woman stumbling towards the ground of men, obviously sober as she tries to act intoxicated for the hell of it. She leaps for Damian’s arm that’s on his side, ignoring the one that holds his drink. He doesn’t shake her off, instead, he lets out a fake laugh along with the others around him.

That’s new you thought.

This went on for more than ten minutes which was a surprise. Normally it would’ve taken him less than five to shake them off, but instead, he’s standing there letting it happen. Which was a surprise. They’re having conversations, sometimes other people would chime in here and there.

Damian says something you can’t hear, and the woman laughs, giggling loudly to the point where you can hear her from the other side of the room. She laughs like it was the funniest thing she’s heard all night.

The horrendous laughter dies down, and she stares. Directly at you. She stares at you with a sly grin that paints her red lips. You frown and glare, gripping your glass. Almost breaking it until one of the servants comes up to you and offers you another drink, which you gladly take without a second thought.

The glare you send is hard, most people can sense it, the chilling aura that spills from you. Damian’s quick to sense it, he’s good at it, with a quick look towards you as you stare down at his arm— he gives you a genuine grin. He shakes off the women.

“Apologies. My presence is needed elsewhere” he gives a side eye down “with my wife” The woman was not happy, pouting as he watched her target leave her sight. But she puts on a facade and leaves, probably off to find another arm to cling on.

There’s a shit-eating grin plaster on his face when he walks up to you, and all you could do is roll your eyes—taking a big sip out of your drink in your hand.

“Zawjati?” he called out “Why are you here all by yourself?”

“You just seemed a little busy with your groups of friends” you hum “I didn’t want to ruin it”

The grin on his face softens, arm stretched out towards you, and you take his warm hand without a second thought. “Don’t be jealous” he chuckles “Everyone knows I’m all yours”

“Why would I be jealous?” You scuff, he was right but you would never admit that to his face. You lean into him closer, bringing him down to your level—lips brushing up against his ear “When I’m the one that ends up taking you straight to the bedroom right after every time”

#damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian x reader #robin x reader #damian wayne headcanon #damian scenarios #damian wayne x you

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r0-boat · 3 months ago

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Whb Kings when you're sad

You are sobbing in your room absolutely unconsolable and all you wish to do is be alone Even with all the demons trying to cheer you up you are still crying and sniffling. Now it's up to the kings What do they do?

Satan

Busting down your door tearing it off its hinges he sees you're crying face. The man is steaming with wrath. Plowing down demons that got in his way to get to you, clenching his fists So hard his fingernails are making his palms bleed. But still even when he feels like he's going to tear someone's lungs out and eat them right in front of them He gently tilts your face up to have you look at him and he says with glowing red eyes staring deep into yours "Who did this?"

He doesn't even know why you're crying He just knows that someone is going to pay. It don't matter if it's a person or not tearing that shit apart. The first name you hear from your lips will be getting punched.

Mammon

His heart is pounding in his chest The moment he found out how sad you were today, Who knew this was an urgent matter that needs his immediate attention. He will also instantly believe that it's his fault. So he will shower you with everything. Overwhelming you with random and sporadic gifts, wrapped in silk ribbons and gold foil every time he presents you with a gift He will place it right next to you and give you a kiss. Part of him absolutely pains him to leave you alone like this but he cannot bear to see you red with tears of sadness.

Leviathan

Someone is dying. And they are dying a slow and painful death. If you want he could even bring you the head of whoever made you cry. You will probably notice that He probably will not tease you as much today since he's afraid he might make you worse. Levi also gets a little gentler as well as getting extremely protective.

Levi is a mix of Mammon and Satan, but he blames everybody else. And he will throw hands at anyone who even looks at you wrong. And he'll shower you with presents but doesn't know how to do it, so gently place it behind you without even looking at you with a note that says "stop being sad. It's making me angry...please."

Beelzebub

Like a puppy who sees that his master is sad and tries to smother you in as much love and affection as humanly possible. He knows that when he is sad he eats so he brings you your favorite food. Beel's love language is just company So if you're sad he isn't leaving your side even for a moment somehow he becomes even more of a velcro demon.

Lucifer

The first time he saw you crying he thought you were hurt and he tried to heal you He looked extremely concerned as he asked where were you bleeding.

Lucifer believes he isn't very good with human emotion But he's actually extremely helpful. he is a good listener and he will provide his ear, as well as his opinions if you want them.

He will either validate you or ground you and he is a little blunt with them.

Belphegor

He will grab you take you into his bed and make you cuddle against him petting your hair until you fall asleep into his chest. Sometimes all you need is just silence and cuddling. Sometimes all someone needs is just some sleep.

Crying is a huge waste of energy but it's not all bad because once you get it all out you won't be sad anymore. And despite the hassle the least he can do is be a shoulder to cry on and listen to whatever is troubling you before the two of you cuddle together and sleep.

#whb #what in hell is bad #wihib #whb belphegor #whb beelzebub #whb leviathan #whb lucifer #whb satan #whb mammon

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vyglitchcraft · 1 year ago

Note

Since requests are open, can you write for havik, shao, Scorpion and sub zero with a size kink SFW and NSFW headcanons? ʕʘ‿ʘʔ

YES BITCH I WILL, you have good taste in men hot DAMN also yes putting their canon heights just so you can imagine it (atleast before MK1 assuming they didn't change the height)

Sizing Up (18+)

MK1 Shao, Havik, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang x gen!reader size kink headcanons

Warning: Havik's section has mentions of gore and more extreme fetishes

General Shao (7'2 ft)

SFW

This hunk of muscles love to show off his build, he is VERY proud of it. Like the type of douchebag in the gym that would flex in front of the mirror type of guy. And you love every second of it

He likes to show off, that's just a thing that Shao likes in every timeline. He likes to pick you up and just point out how small and light you are, how you're lucky to have him because someone can just pick you up and run off with you

He's a bit of a jerk but you should expect that when you dated him. He constantly teases you about your height and he'll make sure you will NOT forget that you're short. Jars on the highest shelf, every lid is screwed on a bit TOO tight, you can't seem to find any stools to stand on so that means only one thing, you're forced to ask him for help and he would HAPPILY do it with a shit eating grin on his face

He LOVES it when you do a size comparison between you and him, especially with your hands, he thinks its so precious that he can just hold both of your hands with only one of his

He went FERAL when he saw you in his clothes

NSFW

When i say this man is huge EVERYWHERE i mean it, you wouldn't be exaggerating when you compare it to your arm.

"Are you sure? I could break you" is something he constantly says. He loves to lay his cock right on top of your stomach, just admiring just how deep he could reach. Heck it scares you sometimes too, i mean who wouldn't?

But all those feelings are gone when you feel that delicious stretch as he slowly pushes his cock into you. He loves to compare you to a sex toy just because he could just hold your torso with one hand and just use you. He is VERY degrading in bed but god does he love you too.

"So pathetic, did it reach your brain too? Look at me while i use you" even when the two of you are doing it sitting down, you only reach his chest.

He loves to see the outline of his cock on your stomach, he's amazed that someone as small as you can take something that big.

You're practically getting tossed around from position to position, you're gonna get manhandled like a sack of potatoes

Havik (6'4 ft)

SFW

Also messes with you but more just because it causes chaos. Although he doesn't care about his height unlike Shao, he is absolutely fixated by the fact that you're so small compared to him. He thinks you're adorable and wants to bite your head off.

Chews on your hair. You're probably the perfect height for him to lay his head on top of yours. Your hair gets into his mouth sometimes and he likes chewing on it.

He likes to hold onto you, he wants you to carry him around because he thinks it's funny that someone THAT small can carry a man his height. So yes you're here giving this man a piggy back ride while he chews on your hair. Look don't expect maturity from HIM of all people.

Also likes to carry you everywhere and put everything (including you) on a really high shelf, why? Because chaos.

"I can throw you" "Havik WHY" "what if i throw you across the arena so you can attack people from behind" "WHY WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT"

He's big but he acts like he's small, he either is NOT aware of his height or just does it to mess with you, could be both.

NSFW

Cute aggression but kinky. That's all i can say about him.

But anyway he likes to point out certain details that just make you want to cover your face. He appreciates that you're so easily pinned down. Your feet aren't touching the ground if you're getting fucked on a table or some other random surface.

Please be warned, the man has no filter. His dirty talk is explicit and isn't for the faint of heart.

Goes fucking FERAL when he sees your stomach bulging from his cock. How you can barely handle anything yet you do, easily too. He loves it. "I wonder if i pull out fast enough, i could pull your intestines inside out"

"I can feel myself hitting your lungs, do you like it?" he's exaggerating but he loves how you're basically choking from the pleasure. Although if you're genuinely uncomfortable or hurt, he will stop. As chaotic as he is, he doesn't want to see you hurt or at worst die.

Loves it when you're the dominant one though. He's a switch. He likes it when someone weak like you can overpower him (if you can't, he likes to pretend) you can do anything to him, he can regenerate any part of his body.

Bi-Han (6'2 ft)

SFW

Overbearing as fuck. He treats you like you're just this small vulnerable rabbit. He feels the need to always protect you, i mean someone your size surely can't protect themselves right? That's why you have him! If you think he's overprotective, he's even more so when you're small

You're a porcelain doll to him, one wrong move and you'll be hurt. Although he's very gentle, he's also like a predator, almost a yandere. You're spoiled, he's the grandmaster, who's gonna stop him from using the Lin Kuei's money for you. But you ain't gonna do shit without him "protecting" you

Since every ninja is around 6'2 (except Tremor and Reptile i think) so you bet your ass you can't reach shit but don't worry, Bi-Han is there to help you. You won't be lifting a finger when he's around.

Oh but don't think he's all soft, his anger is fucked. He uses his size to intimidate people, standing behind you like a shadow. Or having you on his lap like a pet.

Your size means you're also easily movable. He uses this to his advantage to just carry you around or pick you up if he needs you.

NSFW

Again, predator/prey. He absolutely takes advantage of the fact that you're so weak compared to him. The way he can make you whine with one of his fingers, gives him an ego boost. "I can't wait to stretch you to the limits"

Everything about him screams possessive and the fact that you look so small and weak compared to him makes it even worse. The fact that he can just wrap his hand around your whole neck. The fact that you cry every time he fucks you, he lives for it.

He'll pin you down, bite you, everything that you'll love today but regret tomorrow. His grip is bruising but no worries, he'll make sure to take care of you after it. His hands would be cold enough to soothe the pain

Seeing you grip onto him, how he overpowers you and you're hugging him as if he's the only person that could keep you safe. God he could go another round just from seeing it.

Kuai Liang (6'2 ft)

SFW

Not as obsessive as his brother, he's respectful. He loves you and he'll make sure you know it. He wants you to feel protected but not scared. Although he discourages you from fighting because he's scared that you'll get overpowered.

He's pretty self aware about his height but he won't make it your problem.

He LOVES it when you wear his clothes or any oversized shirt. He just wants to choke you with his chain and hug you until you can't breathe.

He likes to hold your face with both of his hands and just squish your cheeks. His hands pretty much cover your face. Oh and he doesn't mind carrying you everywhere he goes, it's embarrassing but if you want him to do it, he'll handle the teasing, as long as you're happy.

Does that thing where he just puts his hands on your face, grabbing your head like a basketball. He isn't really thinking about anything, he just does it sometimes. Also accidentally gained the reflex of having to crouch just to go face to face with you. Yes its a bit degrading but he'll snap out of it and go back to his normal position.

NSFW

The fact that you're so light and small compared to him makes it so easy for him to just pin you against a wall. He loves the sense of power that he has over you. You're so vulnerable and he could just defeat you.

To his dismay, he's pretty similar to his brother but much more merciful and less degrading. "So small, so weak, i could just break you"

He would tie you up with his chains and just let you warm up his cock, his big arms wrapping around your neck while he studies in his room. His hand would wander down, cupping your stomach or thighs. Feeling your head lean back on his chest while you beg for him to move.

In his mind, you're like a pocket pussy, a cute toy but he would never mention it. He has a filter but his mind does not. He would love to see you beg that he's too big, that it hurts, your hole not closing up after he's done with you, he wants to see it but he would never say it to you, its too embarrassing.

Your small frame when you go all limp after a session looks so adorable that he just wants to hold your hips down and use you until you're all loose and open. "I'll mold you into my shape, i need you to be mine" he pants out, biting your shoulder, he really is similar to his brother even if he denies it.

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 #bi han #shao kahn #general shao #kuai liang x reader #kuai liang #scorpion x reader #scorpion #sub zero x reader #sub zero #mk havik #havik #havik x reader #bi han x reader #shao kahn x reader #general shao x reader

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year ago

Text

DRABBLE: YOU'RE NOT WEARING ANY PANTIES (18+) (ONE PIECE) (For Black!Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: I was watching One Piece & came up with this. Please enjoy! -Jazz

Warnings: Reader is mentioned as having thick thighs and ass w/ brown labia

**********

LUFFY

This man is downright confused.

He doesn't even realize that you did this on purpose to get him riled up. Luffy was never the one to successfully be seduced though. You could stand naked in front of him and tell him to fuck you, and he’d still wouldn’t get it. When the man gets horny, it’s at the most random of times, like when you’re sunbathing with Name or reading a book.

You figured you’d at least give it a shot though. It starts when you two are lounging in your bed in the girls’ cabins across the ship, chomping on some watermelon and honeydew as an afternoon snack. With your feet in his lap, you go to pluck the last piece of watermelon out of the bowl between you, but his whine of protest stops you. “What, Luffy?” you sigh.

Luffy stares at you with big, pitiful eyes, begging you not to eat it. You do your best to keep your eyes on his instead of his toned upper torso and X-shaped scar that peaks beneath the flaps of his red vest. “Pleeeease, Y/N?” he whines. “It’s so good! I didn’t even eat that much!”

You scoff, wondering if he’s serious. “Luffy, boy, you almost ate the entire bowl!” you argue. “I had to slap you on the head to stop you from eating everything!” You go to pop the watermelon into your mouth, but Luffy’s arm extending and slithering across the bed toward you stops you.

“No, Luffy!” you protest, but you’re cut off with laughter as he begins tickling your side. The captain laughs at your torture, tickling you senselessly until you drop the watermelon on the ground.

By now, he isn’t paying attention to it though. He jumps on top of you, his fingers moving furiously across your sides and stomach much to your dismay. “L-Luffy, stop!” you gasp. “I-I can’t…b-breathe!”

“Huh?” he teasingly asks. “Sorry, Y/N, but I can’t hear you over the sound of your laughter!” His hands then move down to tickle your legs, but he doesn’t count on accidentally flipping your sundress up to reveal your bare pussy to him.

His fingers pause as he stares in confusion down below your stomach. You begin to grow hot with embarrassment, realizing what has happened, but also hopeful that this lighthearted moment shifts. For a minute, Luffy is completely silent and you can see the gears turning in that head. “Uh…Y/N?” he innocently questions. “Why aren't you wearing any underwear?”

The room suddenly grows hot and heavy as you lay there on your back with your boyfriend staring down at your pussy. “Um,” you hum, “w-well–“

“Did you lose ‘em in the laundry room?” he interjects. “Did they end up in the sea? Why didn't you tell me? I would’ve gotten 'em for you!”

“No, Luffy–“

“Or did you take ‘em off ‘cause it’s so hot today? Doesn’t that feel kinda weird? Or does it make you feel cool? Maybe I should try that too ‘cause sometimes I get–“

“Luffy!” you exclaim, stopping him short. “I didn’t take them off ‘cause of any of that.” He stares blankly at you, waiting for you to continue to explain the method to your madness. You clear your throat, feeling more embarrassed because of his cluelessness. “I did it to seduce you,” you softly reply.

Again, he just blinks at you. “You know,” you sigh, knowing damn well he doesn’t. “You have easy access to me now for…you know…play with me.”

Then, finally, a lightbulb flickers in Luffy’s eyes. “Oh!” he giggles, realizing what you mean. “You mean for sex? I can fuck you without worrying about your panties now?” He practically yells this shit, by the way, which means anyone on the ship definitely heard.

You facepalm yourself, groaning. “This was a bad idea,” you lament. Luffy is suddenly moving to hike your thighs over his shoulders, his entire demeanor changed. You squeak in surprise as he looks up at you from between your legs, a mischievous yet sexy look in his eyes. “You want me to fuck you, Y/N?” he hums. “All you had to do was tell your captain so.”

When he finally eats your pussy and fucks you into the mattress for nearly an hour until you have four orgasms, leaving your body twitching and your pussy filled to the brim with his cum, you realize that maybe you should go without undies more often.

ZORO

To say he isn’t pleased isn’t enough to describe what Zoro is feeling.

He knew something was off when he saw your asscheeks jumping a little too much when you walked around the ship today. He noticed immediately when you went into the kitchen to help Sanji with breakfast to which he eyed the blonde down for staring at you in your pretty little sundress.

But then you bent over the counter a little too far, luckily without Sanji watching, to reach for a glass for your iced coffee. There, he saw it: a sliver of those bare cheeks that he dreams about smacking and lays on as pillows just because they’re so plump and pillowy soft. As the hem of your dress rose over your thighs, his eyes widened at your ass and the crevice of your thighs where your bare pussy lied in wait for him.

When you finally got your glass, you peeked over your shoulder at him, your eyes meeting his. And then you laughed. You laughed. It was small, light, and sexy, but just as wicked. Zoro gripped his fork so tight that he nearly snapped it. ‘Oh, this little brat,’ he thought. You were gonna get it later.

So when he finds you reading a book and lounging in the sun moments later while the crew is doing their own thing, he wastes no time discussing these important matters with you. He stands in front of your view of the sun, becoming a big, hunky eclipse. You stare up at him from behind your sunglasses. “Yes?” you ask innocently as if you’re not wearing panties under your dress right now.

“You wanna tell me what the fuck you think you’re doing?” he asks, his voice barely above a growl. You stare up at him, confused. “Uh...reading and sunbathing?” you suggest as an answer. You offer your book to him, showing him.

You don’t expect him to pluck the book from your hand and toss it to the side. “Not that,” he impatiently replies. “I mean the fact that you’re goin’ commando today.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Zo,” you lightly laugh. But he sees the playfulness in your smile. You’re trying to tease him to get what you want.

Lucky for you, he’s on your type of time today and is more than happy to give it to you.

That’s when you find yourself in his room, bent over his bed and his thick cock stuffed deep in your wet pussy that he is quickly turning into a gushy mess with how fast and hard he is fucking you. With every slap of his balls against your clit, his hands grip your hips and your voice rings out in moans against his bedroom walls. “Z-Zoro!” you whine, your face in his pillow. “Slow down or I’m gonna cum too quick!”

He feels you squirming about, but holds you firmly by your hips, even giving you a sharp spank on your jiggly ass. “Nah, baby,” he hoarsely says. “Stop runnin’ from me. You begged for this shit, and now you’re gonna take it, you little brat.”

He leans over to press a chaste kiss to your ear, making you pitifully whine into his pillow as your ass bounces off of his cock. “I’m curious though,” he whispers. What made you suddenly decide to flash your pussy for all of our crew members today, huh?” His hand moves to roughly grip your ass, toying with the soft flesh. “I know you know I noticed,” he growls. “What, you want Sanji and Brooke to get an eyeful of what’s mine, huh?”

With no answer, he spanks you again, drawing a whine out of you. “Huh?” he bellows, his voice bouncing off of his bedroom walls.

“No!” you sob, gripping the sheets beneath you. “No, Zorro, I promise I’m yours! I-I just wanted to tease you! I’m sorry!” The rest of your words turn into whines and sobs of pleasure as he continues to fuck you sore, plunging his cock deep into your pussy until you’re screaming for release.

Guess you got what you wanted, right?

SANJI

Sanji is BIG HORNY. Don't even try to play with him like that.

It is just a simple morning that turns into something else entirely when you wake at the crack of dawn to find your bed empty. The spot where your boyfriend once was laying is still warm, meaning he hasn’t been away all that long.

You get up and put on an halter aquamarine-blue dress that is shows off the curve of your back and stops at the tops of your thighs, giving just a little peek of the bottom of your ass. It’s one of Sanji’s favorites. Anytime you wear it, he either has a major nosebleed or gives you a blush-worthy compliment and then has a major nosebleed. It also gives him the perfect access to your panties…only this time, you leave them in your drawer.

With a smirk playing on your lips, you walk out of the girls’ cabin to the ship’s kitchen where you find your man and the crew’s chef cooking up some breakfast. He hums a tune as a cigarette dangles from his lips as his hands multitask between cracking an egg with one hand and flipping over some bacon in a pan with the other. Sanji has always been great with his hands. You should know––he’s used them on you many, many times.

You come up behind him and wrap your arms around his toned body. “Good morning,” you softly say, ruining his concentration in the best possible way. He looks over his shoulder, smiling down at you. “Good morning, my love,” he coos, taking his cig out to press a kiss to your forehead. “Did I wake you, baby?”

You lean against the counter, admiring his biceps, veiny hands, and his toned body beneath his apron and wrinkled shirt that he hastily tossed on earlier. You want him. Now. “You know I can’t sleep without you near me,” you reply, your voice airy and soft.

Sanji doesn’t quite catch on to your tone, but presses a hand to his heart, touched at your sweetness. "Aren't you just the sweetest thing ever?” he tuts. “Well, I’ll make sure to make up for leaving your bed with an amazing breakfast from yours truly! Here, pass me the blueberries so I can make this pancake batter.”

You turn around, looking at the carton of blueberries. “These here?” you ask.

“Yeah, right–“ Sanji’s sentence takes an abrupt pause when you suddenly lean over the counter next to him to get the blueberries. As you do, your dress rides up, giving him an eyeful of your luscious, bare ass. You smirk at his silence, realizing that your plan to seduce him worked…as usual. It doesn’t take much to make Sanji incredibly horny. You could simply smile at him and he’s ready to eat your pussy for days.

You turn around to face him, your dress dropping back down against your hips. “Here you go, honey,” you coo, passing him the carton. He takes it from you, eyes wide and mouth parted, his cigarette falling to the floor at his feet. You giggle, teasingly toying with the hem of your dress. “What’s the matter, honey?” you tease. “You like this?”

Sanji’s eyes follow your hands and the hem of your dress that continues to lift up, showing him a little of your skin each time. “Uh-huh,” he dumbly answers.

“You know, we’ve got some time until the others wake up,” you purr. “And you’ve got easier access now.” You lift your dress up the rest of the way, revealing your naked pussy to him. “Wanna take advantage?” you ask, a sexy glint in your eye.

You swear that Sanji has never had a more violent nosebleed. That shit gushes everywhere, but luckily not on the food or on you. It drips all over his clothes, his pretty apron, and the floor below, making you squeak in shock as you jump onto a chair to avoid getting wet. When poor Luffy and Usopp enter the kitchen seconds later, they slip and slide all over the blood, knocking into each other and falling out on the floor.

It’s hilariously embarrassing on Sanji’s part, especially when you help him mop up the floor. But you think it’s flattering that your boyfriend finds you so attractive.

He shows you just how much hours later when the crew is eating breakfast in the other room while he has you bent over the counter and his cock stroking the walls of your pussy, nice and slow. “You’re so sexy, baby,” he groans, your soft moans filling the kitchen. “I don’t deserve you. You know that, right?”

The only answer you can give him is clenching around his thick, curved cock and creaming all over it minutes later.

USOPP

Usopp is truly a special case.

You think you just about killed him when he realizes you’re completely naked under your skirt.

You’re just fooling around in his tinkering room under the ship’s floors, dancing to his playlist that he has set specifically for his tinkering and inventing process. You twirl around in your flowery mini skirt and white crop top while your man crouches over a table, focusing on working a gear into some new contraption he’s working on.

You hear him sigh from his post, exhaustedly so. “Y/N?” he asks. You twirl towards him, your eyes trailing along his back muscles flexing under his white white beater and brown skin tanned even more from the sun. “Hm?" you hum, still swaying to the music.

“If you’re not gonna help me, what are you doing down here?” he asks, but not unkindly. Kind of in that way where you’re fed up with your lover’s antics, but you secretly love them. “Just to dance to my music?”

“It’s not my fault you’ve got excellent music taste,” you giggle, moving towards him. You wrap his arms around him from the back, pressing a kiss to his broad shoulder. “C’mon, dance with me.” He groans in protest, his hands covering yours. “You know I don’t dance, sweetheart, especially when I’m in my zone.”

You cluck your tongue indifferently. “You’ve been in your zone for hours now!” you argue. “Just to one song.” You begin to sway, forcing him to sway with you. You lay your hands flat against the hard planes of his chest, feeling his heart beating against your fingertips.

“Pwease?” you plea, making your voice soft and high-pitched. Usopp once again groans, but sways with you anyway, moving away from the table to turn his entire attention on you. You release him, allowing him to turn around and face you, a smile playing on his pink lips that you just love to kiss.

You take his hands into yours and begin moving your feet anywhere the beat takes you, leading him towards you and back again. He begins to laugh along with you, moving his feet in his boots and his legs in those baggy, yellow overalls that you’re itching to get off. There’s just something about him being down here, so completely in his element with his skin glinting in sweat and motor oil streaks on his face.

He surprises you by suddenly taking your hand and twirling you around, making your skirt billow around you. You giggle as you spin and come to a halt with your back to his front. You lean your head back into his chest, humming appreciatively at the feeling of his rough, calloused hands gliding down your sides to your hips and accidentally slipping under your skirt. “Oh, sorry!” he gasps. "Your skirt was still up and…” His sentence takes a pause, making you smile.

“Everything okay, Usie?” you ask, using the pet name you gave him on him. You turn around to face him, finding him gaping down at your skirt. “Uh,” he breathes. “W-Wha…why…why aren’t you…underwear?”

You nearly laugh at his stutters and gobsmacked expression. “You like it?” you giggle, toying with your skirt. “I figured it’d get you away from your tinkering for a minute.”

You lift your skirt up, revealing your bare pussy and tan lines from the sun to him. His brown eyes nearly bug out of his skull at the erotic sight. The man is totally frozen, barely moving a muscle…except for the one down under which has begun to make its appearance, protruding from beneath his pants.

“So you wanna take a break with me, Usie?” you purr, smirking up at him. You press a hand to his chest to feel him up, but as you do, Usopp teeters backwards and falls flat onto his back. “Usopp?!” you shriek, alarmed. You crouch down beside him immediately, checking for any damage. “Are you alright?”

Usopp stares up at you, his eyes wide like he just saw the entire Grand Blue beneath your skirt. “Y-Yes,” he croaks out. “To the break, not if I’m alright.” You sigh in relief, shaking your head at your idiot boyfriend.

But he makes up for it by fucking you silly against his tinkering table minutes later and making you cum all over his thick cock.

SHANKS

“You wanna get fucked?”

That’s the question Shanks asks you when his hand slides a little too far down your backside and finds that your skin is completely smooth. Too smooth. Usually, he’d feel the rough edges of your lace panties or a thong if you’re feeling frisky. But tonight, there is nothing.

He should’ve known something was up. When he was walking behind you tonight to go to the bar with the crew. Your ass was jumping way too much! Not that he minded because his crew and every other male in here knew better than to look at you in such a way, but he couldn’t pop a hard-on in front of his crew mates. It was quite embarrassing.

And now you have the gall to act like you have no idea what he’s talking about. “What, boy?” you snort, shoving at his chest. “C’mon, we’re not even back at the ship or at a hotel.”

You go to scoot over, but the booth you're sitting in only allows you to go so far. Shanks is sitting with you thigh to thigh, hip to hip, with one arm slung around the back of the booth. Something about being protective of you. Though you like it, him being so close is starting to make you hot combined with the alcohol traveling through your body.

Like clockwork, Shanks follows you, scooting even closer to you and not allowing you any kind of personal space. You can see that he is tipsy, his cheeks and ears flushed pink and a hooded look in his eyes. “Shit, baby,” he chuckles, “all you had to do was say that. We can leave right now and go to a bed ’n breakfast right down the way.” His hand moves from your back to your knee, squeezing it. “You didn’t have to go commando tonight, though I appreciate the gesture.”

His hand begins to scoot up to your thigh, squeezing the thick, juicy flesh there. You can feel your body temperature rising as his hand gets dangerously close to your pussy as he sneaks it underneath your skirt. “So what made you wanna lose the panties tonight, baby doll?” he whispers, his lips at your ear. He smells of whiskey and mint gum––a combo you have come to love.

The sound of a bottle shattering and a roar of laughter makes you realize that you’re still in public. “S-Shanks,” you stutter, gulping. You go to move his hand, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he tuts. “Can’t decide you don’t want it now. You’re the one who came off the ship without your undies.” Your breath hitches as he releases your hand and goes back to scoot his up your skirt until his fingers begin sneaking between your thick thighs. “Tell me, baby doll: what was your plan tonight? To make me so hard that I bend you over this table and fuck you in front of all of the nice folks at this bar?”

His naughty question and raspy voice in your ear makes you pathetically whimper. You then feel his fingers begin to play with your pussy lips, making you bite your lip. His other hand moves to the back of your neck to tug lightly on your hair, drawing a moan out of you. “I need an answer,” he growls. “Or I’ll make you cum right here. Don’t try me.”

Through quivering lips and hitched breaths, you answer him. “N-No,” you whimper. “I just felt sexy tonight and I wanted to tease you.” You have to clench your teeth to avoid moaning as he begins to play with your clit, coaxing your legs open a bit to watch his fingers toy with the brown hood.

“Well, little lady,” he chuckles, “consider me teased.” He leans in and presses a rough, whiskey-soaked kiss to your quivering lips before pulling away. “So now let me give you what you’re after.”

That’s how you find yourself up against the wall of a bathroom stall in the bar with Shanks’ hips furiously thrusting as he pounds his cock deep into your needy, wet pussy, giving you no choice but to clench around him. Your legs are wrapped around him, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other is running through his red hair, your moans ringing out above the bar’s ruckus.

“This is what you wanted, right?” he huffs into your ear. “You wanted to be my little slut tonight?” He fucks you harder, faster, getting you both closer and closer to your explosive orgasm of the night. “Cum for me,” he demands. “Be a good girl and cum around your captain’s cock, baby doll.”

And you do. You don’t have a choice but to do so. And when he finally cums deep inside of you, he makes sure you give you enough so it’s dripping down your thighs when you walk out of the bathroom minutes later, Shanks laughing while you’re an embarrassed, fucked-out mess.

ACE

“Girl, don’t play with me,” he firmly says. “I mean it.”

You blink at him, confused for a moment. all you're doing is sitting cross-legged next to him, sipping on your cocktail, looking cute and absolutely scrumptious in your yellow mini-dress that brings out the color of your skin and the deep brown of your eyes. Ace has been telling you that you look like the prettiest sun he's ever seen ever since you stepped out to join him at the club.

“What?” you ask. “All I’m doing is sitting here.” Ace eyes you from beneath his hat, his eyes trailing down to your thighs. “Yeah, without somethin’ underneath,” he replies. Your heartbeat jumps when you realize he’s caught on. “What?” he chuckles. “You think I wouldn’t notice when I can see that ass?”

And he can. From his angle, he has a clear view of your bottom cheeks as you sit with your legs crossed. “Maybe I was just hot,” you argue, holding back a playful smile. “There has been a heatwave for a couple of days. Plus, it makes me cooler.”

“Cooler, hm?” Ace scoots closer to you, his hand sliding up your bare thigh. “Don’t get too cool now, darlin’,” he whispers in your ear, his voice sending shivers up and down your spine. “I need you hot and bothered for this next part.”

That’s when his hand begins to slide between your thighs, coaxing them open to reveal a sliver of your shaved, bare pussy to him. “Fuck,” he hisses, ogling at your sex. His reaction makes you flush, the idea of doing something so naughty in such a public place enticing you so. “So now what?” you purr. “You just gonna stare at it? As flattered as I am, I– oh, fuck!”

A gasp escapes you as you feel your boyfriend’s fingers begin to toy with your pussy, his thumb gently rubbing your clit. Right there in the club booth! “Hm, you’re already wet for me, mama,” he appreciatively hums, watching your face intently for your reactions. “Were you this wet when you were changing earlier, thinkin’ about me doin’ this?”

“Ace,” you whisper, your eyes leaving his to assess the club. Luckily, everyone is too busy dancing and drinking to notice your boyfriend playing with your pussy, but the idea that someone could see turns you on even more. “Don’t be shy,” he chuckles, an evil glint in his eye. “You can let that voice out more. The music is loud enough.”

He begins to press his finger very lightly against your entrance and you’d just about cry out in pleasure if it wasn’t for his little brother dancing up to them to the reggaeton beat playing from the speakers above. “What are you guys sittin’ down for?!” Luffy yells, drunk with his hat tipped sideways and those hips moving. “C’mon and dance with me! The music is great!”

You try to move away from Ace, but his finger sinking into your pussy stops you. You have to bite your lip to keep from moaning as he begins to slowly and torturously finger fuck your cunt, gliding against the underside of your clit as he does so. “Oh, we’ll be there,” Ace reassures his brother with a smile. “Right, Y/N? You love this type of music.”

You can barely breathe, let alone speak. Fortunately, Luffy is dancing away to join his crew on the floor, leaving you and Ace alone. You turn to him, glaring daggers at him. “I fucking hate you,” you growl.

Ace chuckles as he starts to thumb your clit, emitting soft moans from your lips. “I love you too, mama,” he coos, kissing your neck. “I’ll treat you to a dance after I make you cum, m’kay?”

And he does both: he makes you cum on his fingers right under the table and buys you a pretty drink to go with a pretty girl like you.

LAW

He is befuddled. Confused. And completely alarmed.

Because why the fuck are you just walking around his ship with no panties on? He realizes this when you first come sauntering into his bed chambers one night and sit in his lap. He’s at his desk, looking over a map and circling some hotspots to stop at for food and supplies. “Hey,” you coo, wrapping your arms around his thick neck.

“Shouldn’t you be sleep?” he grumbles, doing his best to not admire you in your pink mini dress with the flowers printed on it and how the hem stops at your thighs. “We pull into port come dawn.”

You hum in acknowledgement. “I know, but you’ve been sitting here almost all day. And plus, I need you in order to sleep.” You lean in to kiss along his thick neck and shoulders, cooing softly as you do. The scent of your perfume and your soft voice in his ear are enough to make him bust, but alas, he has work to do. “Well, try,” he deadpans, giving your thigh a pinch. “Now c’mon, I have work to do. I’ll be there in a bit.”

You whine in protest, wiggling around in his lap and causing his cock to stir. “But you said that an hour ago!” you argue with a pout of your soft, glossy lips. “Come on, Law, snuggle with me!” But when he gives you one of those stern looks, you sigh and scoot off of his lap to sit on his bed, pouty and mad.

He’s supposed to go back to his work. Keyword: supposed to. But all of that goes out the window as he watches you lean back and open your legs in the mirror behind his desk that faces you. Your eyes stay posted to his as you do so, the hem of your dress riding up to reveal your naked thighs and ass. “Da hell?” he asks, confused.

“What’s wrong?” you ask innocently, even as your thighs slowly move apart. Law swears he nearly has a heart attack when he realizes that there is nothing covering your pussy, revealing all of you to him. “Where the fuck are your panties?” he asks, glaring at the sight.

“It was hot today,” you answer simply. “So I went without.” You lean back farther onto your hands, causing your dress to ride up onto your naked stomach. Law can't take his eyes off of your pussy though. It looks so pretty; so brown; so delectable.

“Were you just…walkin’ around like that all day?” he asks barely above a growl. “Without any panties?” He doesn't realize that he’s gripping the map until he hears a slight tear in the paper that makes him stop.

You shoot him a scowl. “Why do you care?” you retort. “You weren’t payin’ any attention to me, so don’t act like you do now.” But obviously, you’re lying. You want him and you knew exactly how to get him. That’s why you made sure to skip out on wearing undies today.

Nothing more comes out of Law except for groans and grunts of pleasure when he is on top of you minutes later, his clothes off and his hands gripping the hem of your dress as he fucks you in it. He has your legs up by your ears and his cock sunk deep into your pussy that makes such nice, squelching noises for him every time he thrusts into it.

“Now,” he huffs, staring down at your pretty face and jiggling titties, “any mouth you got for me now? Huh, little girl?”

You don’t give him anything but a sob, your pretty face contorted in sheer pleasure as his cock strokes your insides. Law chuckles and sinks his two thick fingers into your mouth for you to suck on, right down to his knuckle tattoos.

“I didn't think so,” he groans.

#smutty smut #black fanfic writer #my works #black coded reader #black writers #one piece smut #one piece drabble #zoro x black reader #sanji x black reader #luffy x black reader #law x black reader #shanks x black reader #ace x black reader #usopp x black reader

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ivorysfilms · 1 month ago

Text

dating patrick hockstetter headcanons (MOVIE)

- this man is the LIGHTEST sleeper you will ever meet, like.. it’s kinda scary sometimes, you’ll accidentally knock something over and when you turn back around he’ll be sitting up and staring into your soul

- he def smells like some type of cologne that his mom bought for him and forces him to wear, burning stuff obvi and hairspray

- his mom is a christian(book reference) so expect to see him in church every sunday in his preppy dress shirt and tie

- he thought michael jackson was attractive when he was younger and whenever his mom brings it up he gets super pissed off

- he’s definitely not a mama’s boy or anything, he literally forgets her name sometimes but he favors her over his dad

- this mf has a hair pulling kink i CALL it, his hair is so pretty to not be pulled at

- his laugh is SO high pitched (as if his voice isn’t already but yk) i saw a behind the scenes and owen teague’s laugh is so silly in it

- okay so about his hair again it’s too pretty for him to not care about it so i fear he wraps it in a towel when he gets out of the shower and treats it like a baby(NOT like he would in the book guys..)

- he probably has gotten arrested like once or twice or at least told off by henry’s dad for setting things on fire around town with his “flamethrower”

- this mangy ass is weak as hell he can barely lift weights without falling like a damsel in distress to the ground

- ew he probably comes up behind you and goes ‘guess who!’ OR he wraps his arm around your neck like your a frat boy buddy

- he cannot dance so if he’s at a party or someplace with music he’ll just head-bang and jump

- he probably has insomnia so he gets up at like three in the morning and wanders around the house like this:

- he definitely enjoys graffiti and likes to spray paint random buildings in derry but he probably isn’t good at it so he’ll probably just write something like ‘penis’ or paints all over actual graffiti art

- i think he’s definitely more of a cat guy then dog because he has the personality and agility of one or if it came to any exotic animals he’d be a ferret

- will chase you around with dead bugs or mice if you’re afraid of either (HE DIDN’T KILL THEM) that’s book only guys

- he’s definitely more of a cigarette guy than a alcoholic but once in a while he’ll get shitfaced with the gang(you have to pick him up after)

- will give you any of his clothes, bracelets, rings, just ask. he loves seeing you in his stuff it’s like the equivalent of you in a collar that says his name

- he LOVES sushi, most likely because his mom cooked it a lot during his child years, but will beg to grab some while belch is driving, usually they do get it but they stop somewhere else because henry will shit his pants if he eats it(he hates it)

- MANSPREADS

- allows you to do his makeup or paint his nails if you’re on the girlier side, but if not he likes when you do his skincare

- i feel like the song that plays when the bowers gang is first introduced on screen (love removal machine by the cult) is the type of music he enjoys or that is his favorite song. he likes grungy/metal teenage boy music yk

FIRST POST EVER COMPLETED??? OH YAYAYAYA

who was gonna tell me trying to add your own gifs was such a struggle.. “gif to big!” THATS WHAT SHE SAID like stfu and let me add the dang gif

#ivorysfilms #patrick hockstetter #owen teague #it chapter one #it 2017 #owen teague x reader #patrick hocksetter x reader #bowers gang #bowers gang headcanons #patrick hockstetter headcanons #it chapter two #slasher headcanons #pennywise #it fandom #it fanfiction

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ariaste · 6 months ago

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so i'm reading Interview With the Vampire for the first time in twenty years and this shit is SO FUCKING FUNNY like. god.

like there you are, being louis, having your beautiful elegant grief over the death of your brother and this random vampire partially eats you on your doorstep one night and then rocks up the next night pretending to be a Really Cool Elegant Suave Guy like "bonjouuuuur do u want to be a vampire [drapes self elegantly all over the room] i could do that for you" and then you're like "wow okay [privately noticing all the hot things about him]" and then he makes you a vampire and you're like "wow he is holding me like a lover and i have some unspecified Feelings about it, he is radiant, he is so beautiful, golly" and then to everyone's disappointment but particularly yours, this allegedly cool suave elegant vampire proceeds to immediately drop the act and reveal that he is the least cool person who has genuinely ever existed, in fact he is absolutely intolerable and a Whole Ass Moron, and all you can do is stare in incredulity and mounting contempt as he blithely installs his REAL DAD in your house without asking or even communicating in advance that he HAD a dad (you are bewildered to discover that vampires have dads or at least this weirdo does for some reason???), and starts spending your money like he's the sugar baby in this situation (and to your horror you realize that he IS ACTUALLY THE SUGAR BABY IN THIS SITUATION, HOW DID HE CON YOU INTO THIS) and you're immediately like "fuck fuck fuck fuck i've made a huge mistake" and start keeping an eye out for any local vampire divorce lawyers and making a mental note of every single wrong he commits so that a couple centuries later you can bitch about them to a random reporter you just met like

oh the bitching, oh the sass. "had he any native intelligence" i'm crying. "characteristic lack of common sense" not even the common sense god gave a gnat, yeah wow ur right. "i was tempted to say 'yes you are', but I didn't" YOU SHOULD HAVE, BABE, YOU WERE JUSTIFIED god the moral high ground here is two inches high

And then there's this whole tangent about "yeah and then after a while Lestat got this fang-crush on this random neighbor boy -- you know, like when you see a random neighbor boy and you reeaaaaaally want to eat him?? anyway i told him not to eat the neighbor boy, including physically wrestling him in the rain to keep him from pouncing on the neighbor boy while the neighbor boy was having a little rapier duel with someone, but lestat was wily and slippery and uh well that was it for the neighbor boy" like god lestat is so fucking stupid (affectionate), he's LITERALLY going around louis' house like ":) wow you have nice plates. and glasses! I miss glasses. wait i know I'LL PUT A RAT IN THE GLASS [hunts around in the grass for a rat while Louis watches in bewilderment from the window] [gets a rat] [pours the rat into the glass] [elegant sip] [complains that it gets cold too fast] [inexplicably smashes the glass when he's done with it?????? for vibes i guess?????]" the exasperation. the outrage. this is not what Louis signed up for. he thought HE was going to be the sugar baby. he thought he was getting swept off his feet and Romanced and shit. where is the hot vampire who was like "oooh louis let's be together forever" and why has he been replaced with this blond moron in his house, breaking his THINGS, having a dad who he yells at???? and being very polite to guests actually

like. pals Lestat was the original cringefail emo poser boyfriend and none of us deserve to stand in his presence. Louis is so embarrassed to have ever associated with him. this book is a comedy.

tbh tho raise a glass for lestat tho who wiggled his lil self into New Orleans like "step one, find sugar daddy to keep track of my money :))))) and marry him" like yeah he's embarrassing to know but to his credit the man DOES know how to invent and execute a plan with impressive efficiency while vastly outmaneuvering anyone with allegedly more common sense, so who's the real moron in this situation, hm???

#interview with the vampire

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 years ago

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How’s Your Head? | Bucky Barnes x Reader

This has been in my WIP forever and I finally finished it. Once again, I am looking for a soft, kind, Bucky Barnes to take care of me and flirt with me. Is that so much to ask?🥲

This is slightly longer than my usual stuff, just FYI. The WC is 7280. And yes the title is a Drag Race reference. 😂

Warnings: reader injury (not severe), creepy men (jail), blood, vomit, flirting, fluff🫶

Bucky didn’t like the staring. The eyes that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. The old woman just a few seats down from him leered at him almost aggressively, like she hoped looks could kill. And though this was a common occurrence, it still rubbed him the wrong way.

“Another adoring fan…” Bucky thought.

He shifted side to side along with the rocking of the subway car and did his best to ignore her gaze- but couldn’t stand it any longer. He gave her a nod and a small, forced smile before heading for the adjoining subway car. Hopefully, he’d find an empty seat free from gawkers and onlookers.

But when he opened the door to the next car, he didn’t find the peace and quiet he’d hoped for.

“I’m not interested…” you said to the creepy guy sitting next to you.

“Oh, come on,” the man insisted. “Don’t be so uptight, sugar.” He rested a hand on your thigh and gave your leg a squeeze, his fingers digging into your flesh.

“Fuck off, dude. Seriously?” You banished his hand and stood from your seat, “eat glass, asshole.”

But as you tried to make your getaway, the man grabbed you by the wrist. He pulled you close as you struggled in his grip, his face only inches from yours. “Maybe you should learn some fuckin’ manners,” he threw you to the ground, your head striking the floor.

Bucky flew into a blind rage. He made quick work of your assailant, nearly removing the man’s head from his body. And with the entitled dickhead desperately escaping to another subway car, Bucky made his way to your side.

“Hey, are you alright?”

You sat on the floor, slightly dazed. A thick fog settled into every corner of your mind and your ears stung with a sharp ringing. “Yeah, I’m good. Didn’t hurt that bad,” you lied. Yet another interaction with an unknown man. Yes, he’d shooed away your creeper, but you wanted to be left alone. No more strange men, no more men pretending to be “one of the good guys” before showing their true self.

If you could convince this random guy that you were okay, maybe he wouldn’t bother you. Maybe you’d be able to make it home without being touched by another strange hand. “Thanks for asking, but I’m-”

“Oh- you’re bleeding”. Only then did you notice the rush of warmth running down the back of your neck. Bucky yanked the jacket from his body and reached for your bloodied skull before quickly recoiling. “Erm, can I?”

You nodded- the motion made you wince.

With cautious hands, he used his jacket to hold pressure to your wound. He stared down at you with genuine concern, his brow furrowed with worry.

After a few moments, most of the fog cleared and brought you screeching back to reality. The reality in which a man you’d never met held his jacket to your bleeding scalp as you sat on the floor of a subway car. Pain pulsed beneath his touch and shot through your head. Warm blood dripped down your neck. But you didn’t care- all you wanted was to move.

Bucky watched as you struggled to get up and instantly tried to stop you. “Hey, careful. I don’t think-”

“I don’t wanna be on this floor any longer than I have to,” you did your best to stand, but the dizziness sabotaged your efforts. “People do weird shit on the train. I’d probably sitting in someone’s pee.”

Bucky gave it a thought and instantly reconsidered his cautioning. “Ew. Yeah. You’re right,” the disgusted look on his face nearly made you laugh out loud. He thought back on all the questionable and downright nasty things he’d seen on the subway- he didn’t want you on that floor. “May I?” He offered you his free hand and got you safely into a seat.

“Which stop is yours?” He asked, settling into the chair next to you. And though he seemed like a perfect gentleman, you gave him a suspicious glance.

“Oh- I didn’t mean that in a ‘where do you live, I’m gonna follow you home’ type of way. More like, ‘how many stops do you have left before you can go get some rest?’ type of way”

You let out a laugh that sent pain pulsing behind your eyes. Maybe this stranger wasn’t so bad. “Um, I still have like five to go. I think. I’m coming all the way from Coney Island.”

“Coney Island, huh?” A rush of memories hit Bucky like a train. Riding the cyclone with Steve and watching him puke. Spending all his money to win a stuffed animal for some redhead he had a crush on.

“Yeah, I got to hang out with a girl I know from college. Haven’t seen her in a while and she’s never been out there. It was actually a pretty great day until that asshole cracked my head open…”

Bucky grimaced. He pulled his jacket from your scalp to give the wound another look, only to be greeted by a continuous flow of blood. “I think you should probably go to the ER. You might need stitches. And there’s a good chance you have a concussion.”

You shot him only a nonchalant shrug, “I’m not worried about it. Plus, I don’t feel like going into debt so they can give me two Tylenol and an ice pack”.

Bucky liked your sense of humor, your wit. How you could be cheeky and sarcastic after being accosted surprised him. But he clocked the tension in your shoulders, the worry in your eyes. You were uneasy. Your glance darted from one end of the subway car to the other every few seconds; he knew you had to be searching for your assailant. Or the next man who wanted to touch you without permission.

“Hey, would you rather take a cab home?” Bucky said, pulling you from your anxious spiral. “I don’t blame you if you don’t want to ride the train after what happened.”

“Oh, um…”

“I’m not inviting myself home with you-” Bucky shook his head. He was cute when he got flustered. “I just mean, I’ll pay for you to take a cab if you’re uncomfortable.”

How you seemed to meet both the bottom of the barrel and the crème de le crème of men back-to-back nearly gave you whiplash. But this handsome stranger had done enough; you couldn’t let him pay for your ride home. “That’s- wow, that’s really sweet. But you don’t have to. It’s okay.”

“What if I want to? You seem uneasy… like you’re waiting for him to come back.”

You nodded.

“Then let’s get you a cab, alright? Next stop, we’re outta here.” He shot you a wink before once again reassuring you that he was not going to follow you home. “Is there someone who can keep an eye on you, though? Like I said, you probably have a concussion. And if your roommate or, um, significant other can sit with you for the rest of the night, that would be a good idea. Head injuries are no joke.”

“Well, I don’t have a significant other,” you almost laughed. “And my roommate’s out of town. She was supposed to get back around sevenish, but her flight got crazy delayed because of weather- now she’s not getting home for a few hours.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. He checked his watch and saw that it was only 8:04pm. He needed someone to sit with you for the rest of the night. Just in case something happened, you’d need a friend or loved one by your side. And if you didn’t have someone there with you, Bucky knew he’d spend the remainder of his evening worrying about the cute stranger he met on the train.

Just then, the subway stopped. Bucky offered you his arm and guided you onto the platform and up the stairs- all while keeping his jacket in place against your wound. Getting away from the train eliminated your unease. No longer were you trapped in the tiny space, your blood staining the floor. You had an escort in the form of a good samaritan, and a ride that would get you home without any further abuse.

But when Bucky hailed you a cab, your anxiety resurfaced.

“Hey, um…” you eyed the car as it approached, “Would you- do you mind riding with me?”

Bucky cocked his head to the side.

“I don’t know- I’m just a little nervous and I don’t really wanna be in a cab alone with another random man,” you said. “I know it’s probably inconvenient for you- I’ll pay for your ride home from my place.” The taxi neared the curb and stopped in front of you, sending your unease into overdrive. “Do you mind?”

Bucky clocked your wide eyes and shaking hands. Sure, you made jokes and sarcastic quips about what happened. But deep down, you were shaken. And he wanted to help in any way he could. “Not at all- I get it,” he gave you a reassuring look, “and you don’t have to pay for my ride. Let’s just get you home, alright?”

He held the door open for you and helped you into the cab before sliding in behind you- his hand still attached to your bloody skull. The ride was quiet, save for the honking of horns and cursing drivers. But having Bucky with you for the duration eased your discomfort.

“So, is there anyone you can call to come look after you?” Bucky asked after a while, “A friend, a neighbor, a family member?”

“I don’t really have any friends,” you said. “But not in a ‘I’m a loser and can’t make friends’ kind of way, I promise.” Bucky laughed. You liked his laugh. “I’m just still kinda new here. And all my family lives in across the country. Plus, I only know two of my neighbors. One of them is an old man who always tell me my skin looks ‘so soft’-”

Bucky’s nose wrinkled, “Ew…"

“Yeah. And the other is this girl who told me to shut the fuck up because she thinks my footsteps are too loud? So yeah, I don’t have many connections here yet.”

He sensed a little embarrassment staining your words and aimed to make you feel better, “Well I’ve lived here for quite some time, and I don’t have any friends, either.”

That didn’t seem possible to you. He was so likable. Quiet, yet endearing. And certainly, a gentleman. He made you feel safe. You wondered how his girlfriend would react when she found out he took another woman home.

Bucky found himself wondering how you didn’t have swaths of friends. Even after your harrowing experience on the train, you were so charming. Funny. Sweet. It was even harder for him to believe you didn’t have a love interest to go home to. But after what he’d witnessed tonight, he didn’t blame you for keeping to yourself.

“What part of town do you live in?” You did your best to conceal the optimism in your voice, the hoped that he lived close by. It was embarrassing how smitten you were with this man.

“Brooklyn,” Bucky said. “I’ve lived there for a while- save for some years I spent, um, away.”

Brooklyn. Nothing a quick train ride couldn’t solve. Though you weren’t too keen on the subway after the night’s events. “Well, tell your girlfriend that I apologize for keeping you so long.”

“I don’t have one,” Bucky said. Things inside the cab fell quiet.

“Oh. Well, do you-” you second guessed yourself, but decided to push through. “Do you want to stay with me until my roommate gets home? You know, since you’re so worried about me and my possible concussion and my lack of friends.”

Bucky stopped breathing. “Oh, um. Sure. Yeah. If that’s- if that’s alright. You sure you’re okay inviting a stranger into your house?”

“Well, you’re not really a stranger, Sergeant Barnes”. You shot him a wink.

An immediate ringing filled Bucky’s ears. He didn’t know what to say, how to react.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Bucky’s mind echoed with the sound of your voice referring to him by name. He liked the way it sounded coming from you. But he hated that you knew who- and what- he was. And when the cab turned onto your street and stopped in front of your apartment, he nearly panicked. He reconsidered his agreement to stay with you. But you didn’t seem to mind having the ex-Winter Soldier so close. And he didn’t want you to be alone with a head injury.

Against his better judgement, he followed you to the front door of your building.

“My great aunt actually lived here back in the fifties,” you told Bucky as you fumbled for your keys. Bucky wondered how you could tell casual stories while dealing with a head injury and an ex-assassin. But as you continued to speak, he realized that he didn’t quite hear what you’d said. He was still reeling from your mention of his name.

And then he noticed you struggling. You were dizzy after cracking your head open, and a slight shaking rendered your hands almost useless. No matter how many times you tried, you couldn’t seem to finagle the key into the lock.

“Um, do you want some help?” He gestured to your keys and allowed you to drop them into his free hand. He pushed the old door open with a loud creak and escorted you inside the lobby- his hand still resting on the back of your head. It was quiet while the two of you waited for the ancient elevator to roar to life. And when the doors finally opened, he guided you inside and watched you press the ‘5’ button.

“So… how’d you know it was me?” He asked as the elevator slowly climbed to your floor.

“Well, when I first saw you, I thought you looked kinda familiar. But I couldn’t place you”. You laughed a quiet, bashful laugh, “Then you knelt down next to me, and I thought I was gonna pass out- but not from the head trauma. You just you have like, the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.” The head injury had you a bit loopy, a little too honest. Too confident. “I knew I’d seen those eyes before… and then it clicked. You were so chivalrous, you know? So old fashioned. I mean, who uses their own jacket to stop a stranger’s head wound from bleeding?”

Bucky shrugged. His cheeks flushed pink.

“I read a book a few years ago about Captain America and his efforts during World War II. And there was a huge portion about Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes… And that’s where I’d seen those eyes.” You flashed him a dramatic wink, “Truth be told, it was my favorite part of the book.”

A shy laugh made its way out of Bucky’s mouth, “Is that so?”

The elevator lurched to a stop and nearly sent you tumbling to the floor. You’d gotten used to the clunky machine since moving into the building, but your sabotaged equilibrium didn’t stand a chance against it. Bucky caught you in a careful, protective grasp before you could tip over. He gently righted you and searched your face for any indicators of discomfort.

“You alright?”

“All good, Sergeant Barnes.” You gave him a salute.

He rolled his eyes and escorted you into the hall, “you can just call me Bucky, if you like.”

“Okay, Bucky-” you said with a smile, “follow me.” You lead him in the direction of your apartment- with his jacket still plastered to your scalp. The man was determined to help you. You’d give him that.

You once again needed his assistance when it came to unlocking your front door. But when Bucky got the door open, he just stood there. He didn’t go inside. He held the door for you and insisted you go ahead, finally peeling the jacket from your wound. He knew he didn’t belong here.

You noticed how tentative he was about entering your home and beckoned him inside. “You can come in…” you said. “Are super soldiers like vampires? Do y’all need an invitation?”

Bucky laughed, “No. I just… I don’t do this kind of thing very often.”

“Oh, you don’t accompany injured women home from the subway on a weekly basis? I’m shocked.”

You flipped on the light and let the warm glow reveal your apartment. Bucky admired the art covering your walls, the books lining your shelves, the smell of some kind of baked goods lingering in the air. This place was cozy, welcoming. Nothing like his apartment.

While he was distracted drinking in the details of your home, you gave his jacket a once over. Blood coated the leather and smeared the lining. It was enough to make you nauseous. “Sorry about this mess… here, let me clean it up for-”

“It’s leather- I’m not worried about it,” Bucky shrugged. “I’ll just wipe it off later.”

“Ew, I think that’s considered a biohazard, Sarge.”

Bucky’s laugh echoed through your home- you liked the sound of his voice bouncing around your space. “Well, lucky for me, I’m not susceptible to biohazards. So, really, it’s not a big deal.” He shot you a wink and hung his bloody jacket on the back of a chair. “Let me take a look at your head.”

He gently moved your hair out of the way enough to expose your wound. He was as careful as he possible not to hurt you or make things worse. And using the dish towel you offered him, he wiped away enough blood to get a good look.

“It’s big, but not deep enough to warrant stitches. And it looks like the bleeding has finally come to a stop.”

“Perfect. I’m gonna go take a shower” you said. “Make yourself at home. You’re welcome to anything in the fridge, except the kombucha. My roommate will murder you if you drink her kombucha.”

Bucky didn’t even know what kombucha was. “Are- are you sure you wanna go shower?”

“Um, yeah. Gotta get the subway-floor germs off me,” you gave a dramatic shudder. “Some of us are, indeed, susceptible to biohazards.”

“That’s fair,” he laughed, “I’m just a little worried about your balance… I think it’s probably seen better days.”

He wasn’t wrong. The floor did indeed seem to dip and shift under you unsuspecting feet. The room spun on occasion. The walls wiggled. But you needed to get cleaned up. “I’ll be extra careful. Promise.” You offered him your pinky and made him link his with yours. “But I have more blood in my hair than anyone should- I need a shower.” You left Bucky alone in your living room with a promise to be back soon.

It was strange for him, being in a stranger’s home like this. He didn’t get invited places or have friends to hang out with. He had Sam- and that was it. And while Sam was great, he never felt quite like this at Sam’s apartment. Something about your place warmed him, made him feel a little lighter. Or maybe it was you. Who was he kidding? Of course, it was you.

But Bucky knew this feeling couldn’t last. In a few hours, your roommate would return and send him home. And that would be the end of it. Of course, he’d be thrilled to see you again under better circumstances. But assuming he’d get that chance would only lead to disappointment. And so, as he waited for you to finish your shower, he did his best to remember this feeling just in case it was the last time.

“I said make yourself at home and you didn’t even sit down!” you said when you emerged from the bathroom. You found Bucky in the living room with his hands in his pockets, admiring your things as though he were in a museum. Looking, never touching. “Relax a little, sarge. The couch is really comfy, I promise.”

Bucky liked the way you looked with your skin still slightly damp form the shower, your hair wet and a little messy. “Oh, yeah- I just got distracted looking at all your…” he gestured to your bookcase, “your books and your tchotchkes. You have good taste- I like that you have two copies of Fellowship of the Ring.”

“Well, my sister dropped one of them in the lake at summer camp when we were kids…” you pointed to the faded cover and worn spine of the book in question. “She took a hairdryer to it and it’s mostly fine, but my mom made her get me a replacement. I just can’t seem to part with this one, though.” You plucked your water-damaged copy of Fellowship of the Ring from the shelf and flipped through the pages, “too much sentimental value. You know?

Bucky felt a small smile creeping upward- you didn’t mind damaged goods. Maybe you’d want to see him again after all.

“Can I get you a drink or something? I have water, tea, La Croix, wine…” you looked at him expectantly.

“Oh, no I’m okay-”

“Well, I’m going to the fridge for some water anyway, so you’re not saving me a trip…” you shot him a wink and began your trek to the kitchen. He followed in your footsteps, too much of a gentleman to let you fetch him a drink. And though he didn’t know what La Croix was, he took the one you offered him with a smile.

He followed you yet again, but to the couch this time. He sat a respectful distance away- as respectful as your small couch would allow- and taste tested the blackberry drink in his hand. It didn’t taste like blackberries. But he thanked you, anyway.

He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to check in on you after your shower- he was too entranced by the sight of you in your pajamas. “Hey, how’s your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints.”

Maybe it was too forward of a joke. Maybe someone from his time wouldn’t appreciate crass humor. Bucky’s cheeks flushed red- and he burst into laughter. You joined him, ignoring the throbbing pain in your skull.

“It feels fine. I mean, it hurts, but it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before” you said. “Are you just gonna make sure I stay up all night?”

Bucky cocked his head to the side, “uh, I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Oh…” you grew a little embarrassed. “I thought you couldn’t go to sleep if you have a concussion.”

“You can go to sleep- it’s just good to have someone check in on you now and then,” he said. “And, hey, you don’t have to stay in here with me- don’t feel like you have to entertain me, or anything. If you wanna go to bed, I’ll be fine out here.”

“Well, I don’t know about entertaining, cause I think the concussion kinda fucked up my ability to tap dance,” you laughed. “But I wanna hang out here with you- if you don’t mind the company.”

He gave you a shy smile, “I don’t mind at all.”

Bucky wasn’t anything like the tabloids said. He wasn’t cold or scary or threatening. He sat on your couch, sipping a La Croix and admiring your throw blanket. He was the farthest thing from intimidating. He had a quiet calm about him that brought you peace. Never did you think you’d invite a man you met on the subway to accompany you home. But Bucky made you feel safe. He was sweet, he clearly cared for your well-being. He was, by all definitions, perfect.

“So, what do superheroes do in their downtime?” you asked. “Like when you’re not saving the world, what do you do for fun?”

Bucky shrugged. He didn’t do anything for fun. “Um, I have court mandated therapy appointments,” he gave an awkward laugh. “I read. I hang out with Sam when he’s not in Louisiana visiting his sister. And I have lunch with a neighbor of mine every Wednesday- this old man named Yori.”

“I’m sure he could say the same about you- that he has lunch with some old man named Bucky.”

Bucky’s head fell back in a laugh, “yeah, you’re right. He’s- he’s about twenty years younger than me.” Bucky didn’t bring up the fact that Yori didn’t know his real age or anything about his past. About how the Winter Soldier killed his son. “Um, what about you?” He quickly changed the subject, “what do you do for fun?”

You thought it over for a moment. You hadn’t expected him to ask; most guys never asked what you liked to do for fun. They didn’t ask you anything at all, really. “Well, I also go to therapy,” you said. “My therapist’s name is Angela and I love her. And when I’m not ‘hanging out’ with Angela, I like to read. I like to go on walks. Oh, and I do a lot of baking- there’s a Tupperware of chocolate chip cookies on the island if you want some.”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide. He was off the couch quicker than you could comprehend and returned with the entire Tupperware in hand. But before he could dive in, he offered one to you. He was a gentleman, after all.

“Oh, shit, these are so good”. Bucky wiped a stray crumb from his lip, “seriously, maybe the best I’ve ever had.”

His praise made your cheeks hot. Bucky Barnes called you ‘the best he ever had’- it was enough to make you sweat. “Oh, I’m flattered. The recipe’s been in my family for generations, though, so I can’t take full credit, but I-”

“I’m giving you full credit”, he said as he finished his second cookie. “These things are incredible.”

You smiled so hard it hurt. “Well, I make at least one batch a week, so…” This was it, your excuse to see Bucky again. You could simply say that you wanted to bake him some cookies as a way of saying thank you, and then you’d ask him out. It was a perfect plan, really. A flawless, surefire way to guarantee that you’d see him at least once more. But as you tried to suggest baking him a ‘thank you’ batch, your mouth flooded with saliva.

Bucky clocked the way you grew suddenly quiet. He dropped his third cookie and inched closer, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, you okay? Do you need something?”

You did your best to push past the wave of nausea. Breathing in your nose and out through your mouth, you willed your body to cooperate. You made a valiant effort, but it was no match for the clear and present threat of vomit. This was happening- now. You scrambled to your feet and made a beeline for the bathroom, swearing to yourself you wouldn’t puke in front of the James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky rushed after you and found you kneeling in front of the toilet, emptying the contents of your stomach. “Oh, shit- here, let me,” he carefully moved your hair out of your face, holding it behind you in an imitation ponytail. His touch was gentle, cautious. He didn’t want to pull too hard and hurt you- you didn’t need any extra pain.

He watched your body lurch as you wretched over and over, voiding your system completely. It was harsh, almost violent. And when you finally sat back on your heels, black and white spots danced through your field of vision. You were empty. Spent. Exhausted.

“Hey, do me a favor and sit against this wall, okay?” Bucky guided you backward until you rested comfortably like he asked. “I’m gonna go get you some water, and I don’t want you tipping over while I’m gone.” Even in your despondent, miserable state, he still made you smile. And when he was certain that you wouldn’t injure yourself in his absence, he rushed to the kitchen for a glass of water.

He returned moments later with ice cold water in hand. “Thanks,” you croaked, your throat raw. Small sips of the cool water eased the burning. And a few more swigs rid your mouth of the unpleasant aftertaste. “I’m sure you weren’t planning on watching a stranger puke tonight,” you laughed. It made your head pound. “But I appreciate the water. And you holding my hair.”

Bucky plopped down next to you with a “sure thing” and a “don’t worry about it.” But you’d heard those phrases before. You’d heard them from people who were never a sure thing, people who made you worry about everything they did for you. They’d throw their rare acts of kindness in your face and use them as ammo in an attempt to disprove the pain they caused. It was condescending. Manipulative. Hurtful. But Bucky meant what he said. All he wanted to do was help. You could tell.

He watched you catch your breath. Watched you drink your water in small sips. But he kept an eye out for another wave of nausea. He wanted to be ready in case he needed to hold your hair again. And he found himself thanking the universe that you’d invited him in; imagining you going through this by yourself broke his heart.

“How do you feel?” he asked after a while.

“Not the best... but I’ll probably survive.”

Bucky’s laugh filled the room, “well, that’s very good news.”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence. Bucky’s hand rested near yours. Your thigh bumped against his a few times. You swore electric currents passed between the two of you each time you touched.

“Hey, if you don’t mind, could you grab me some Tylenol?”

Bucky was up in an instant, ready to fetch you what you needed. But he found himself lost with no idea where he was going. He was so intent on helping, on making you feel better, that he was ready to run off without a map.

“In the cabinet to the left of the fridge,” you laughed.

He shot you a wink and sped off. And while he rummaged through your cabinet, you made an embarrassing effort to stand. You rose on wobbly legs, determined to brush your teeth. There was no way you were going to have vomit breath around Bucky- absolutely not. He was the handsome stranger of your dreams. And you couldn’t screw this up; not that you thought he’d kiss a random concussed woman he met on the subway. But you wanted to leave the very best impression possible.

Bucky came screeching own the hall, bottle of Tylenol in hand. “I didn’t know how many you wanted, so I brought the whole thing”, he shrugged. You shot him a smile in the mirror and gave him a muffled “thanks”.

He stood patiently in the doorway, waiting for you finish brushing your teeth. And when you banished the rank taste of bile, you accepted the Tylenol. You tossed back four pills, and before you could reach for your water, Bucky retrieved it for you. He was one step ahead of what you needed.

With the pills washed down your throat, you gave Bucky an expectant look. “Back to the couch?”

“Yeah, I mean, only if you’re feeling up to it,” he checked his watch. Noticed the yawn you tried to keep concealed. “If you wanna get some rest, please, don’t mind me. You can go to bed- I’ll be fine on my own.”

“No, I’m good. I’m fine,” you took him by the hand and led him back to the living room. “I’m having a good time.” Bucky didn’t say a word; he just let you guide him. He hadn’t held hands with someone in- he didn’t know how long. And holding hands with you- a stranger he’d grown rather smitten with- was enough to stop his heart.

The two of you sunk back into the couch- closer this time- and kept the conversation going. Your thigh rested against Bucky’s; his arm curved around the back of the couch. You could’ve sworn he was playing with a piece of your hair as he talked. But you didn’t want to ask and ruin the moment.

As the night continued, Bucky was shocked. He couldn’t believe you’d only heard of a few of his favorite movies. And he’d never heard of any of yours. “Make me a list,” you said, handing him a pen and a scrap of paper. “And I’ll make one for you. A person’s favorite movies say a lot about them.”

“Yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow at you. “And what do mine say about me? The ones you know of, that is.”

A sly smile pulled at your lips, “they say that you’re a hopeless romantic.” It almost sounded like an accusation, and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.

“Is that so?”

“That is so!” you told him. “But I’m gonna tell you a secret…” You lowered your voice, beckoned him closer, scanned the room as though in search of any eavesdroppers. “I’m the same way.”

Just as you finished your list of movies for Bucky, you considered writing down your number. It would be so smooth, so perfectly timed- but what if he thought it was too forward? What if he didn’t want your phone number at all? You scratched out your area code and handed him the list with a smile.

The two of you continued teasing and joking and learning about each other. You found out that Bucky loved peach cobbler. He learned about your passion for animals. And eventually you asked the question you’d been curious about all night.

“So, where were you headed?”

“What?”

“Well, you were on the subway. I’m assuming you were going somewhere.” You thought he was probably going to some fellow hero’s house for Super Movie Night. Or maybe a meeting with Captain America and Company. He had something much cooler to do than anything you planned for the night, that was for sure.

“Oh, right…” he cringed. “Um, I wasn’t actually heading anywhere. I was just riding the train to, well, ride the train.” It was embarrassing. More embarrassing than anything he’d ever done or said in his hundred years of life.

You cocked your head to the side, “Hmm. Interesting. So, is that like a hobby of yours?”

He wished he could take his answer back. He wished he would’ve said he was going to dinner. Or Target. Or literally anywhere. But no, he just had to be honest. “No, it isn’t a hobby. It’s more like… exposure therapy.”

“Shit. Sorry,” you threw him an apologetic look. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“It’s okay, no big deal. I just- I don’t really like confined spaces. Or spaces with a lot of people. It’s a- it’s a long story.”

You nodded.

“So, my therapist told me two combine the two and force myself to take the train- which isn’t great for my fear of trains,” he let out an awkward laugh. “Anyway, I was just trying it out. Seeing how it made me feel.”

Your heart broke for him. He had so many problems, so much trauma to deal with. And while you weren’t a psychiatrist, you didn’t think combining three of his fears into one nightmare was very sound medical advice. “And how did it make you feel?”

“It wasn’t great- this lady was staring daggers at me for ten solid minutes. But I did get to teach that creepy guy a lesson, so at least there’s a silver lining.”

You laughed. He loved the sound- wanted to hear it all the time.

“Thank you again, by the way, Sarge. You really rocked that guy’s shit.”

“I don’t like hurting people-” he shrugged, “It’s just something I’m good at. I try not to engage in violence unless absolutely necessary, you know? But that guy deserved it. Probably deserved a little more, but…” He gestured to you, “priorities.”

A warm rush flooded your cheeks. James Buchanan Barnes referred to you as a priority.

The evening continued as the two of you swapped stories. You couldn’t believe how funny he was, how many ridiculous things he did back when he was young. In the comfortable safety of your living room, he came alive. You asked for more tales of young James Barnes and his antics with Steve Rogers.

But as time passed, Bucky clocked the way you sank deeper into the couch. You nodded along with his stories and made comments here and there, but there was no mistaking your exhaustion. You leaned against his body more and more until your head rested on his shoulder.

And then, you were asleep. Completely out.

But Bucky didn’t mind. He sat still and quiet. He silenced his phone and yours. After the night you had, you needed the rest. And he was more than happy to help you get some sleep. He held in his laughter as you muttered nonsense under your breath- something about crepes and trench coats. It was perfect. Not the night Bucky expected, but the night he needed. And he’d stay in that exact position for hours if he had to.

But after only forty minutes, a loud crash scared you awake.

Two large pieces of luggage fell to the floor inside your front door. “Fuck Delta airlines and FUCK LAX!” your roommate, Emma, yelled. “I swear to god, there’s a curse on that fucking airport and Delta is the devil’s airline.”

She eyed the room for a moment, taking in the unexpected scene. “Ew, why is there a bloody jacket in the kitchen? And who the fuck are you?”

You stood, begrudgingly leaving your spot next to Bucky. “This is Bucky, that’s his jacket. Some asshole attacked me on the train. I split my head open. He brought me home and kept an eye on me till you got back.”

Maybe she was just in a shit mood because of the travel nightmare. Or maybe she recognized Bucky. But either way, Emma wasn’t having it. “Okay, well, thanks for bringing her home. But I’m back, so you can go. Now. And don’t forget your nasty jacket.”

Bucky gave an awkward laugh. He mumbled a “nice to meet you” and stood from the couch. The two of you locked eyes for a moment, and you wished telepathy came with the serum. If he could only read your mind, he’d know how sorry you were. How horrified you were by Emma’s behavior. You couldn’t believe how rude she was being, how utterly unkind.

But your mind and body weren’t quite working together. You were still groggy, lost in the haze of sleep. And your head injury only made things more difficult. You did your best to formulate a response to Emma and an apology to Bucky. But before you could say anything, Emma was at it again.

“Seriously, dude. It’s time for you to go, get out of my house.”

Bucky was so flustered, so uncomfortable that he left without saying goodbye. Without getting your number. He shut down. He simply snagged his jacket from the kitchen and bailed. He heard you arguing with Emma as he walked down the hall. Heard you near-tears.

He wanted to turn around and say goodnight. To protect you from Emma’s wrath. Comfort you. More than anything, he wanted to get your number. Maybe ask you out. But he was too thrown off by the whole thing. He didn’t expect such a response- he didn’t even get to tell Emma that you needed looking after. He just ran. And it made him feel like a coward.

He pressed the button for the ancient elevator once. Twice. Five times. And when it finally arrived, he got in and slammed the button for the first floor. Ruining his chances of ever seeing you again. Sure, he knew where you lived. But he couldn’t just show up. You’d already dealt with enough creepy shit from weird men- he wasn’t going to stalk you.

Bucky spent the entire elevator ride heartbroken. He knew he’d have to go home to his empty apartment; knew he’d think about you for way too long. You’d probably forget about him after a day- maybe two at the most. And he’d spend months trying to get over the stranger from the subway.

But when he stepped out of the elevator, he found you waiting for him.

“Hi, um… what?” He was more than a little confused. “How did you- how’d you get down here so fast?”

“Stairs,” you breathed. “Faster.”

Bucky couldn’t believe you. It was romantic; it was something out of one of his favorite movies. But it was stupid. “That was… that was a terrible idea- you could’ve gotten hurt. You almost fell over earlier when you were just standing still. Why’d you run down the stairs?”

“Cause I didn’t get to say goodbye…” your voice was soft, heartbroken. “And I didn’t get to give you my number.”

Wordlessly, Bucky handed you his phone. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to chance ruining such a perfect opportunity. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him, of all people. That you actually wanted to see him again.

When you finished, you extended Bucky’s phone in his direction- but recoiled as he tried to reach for it. “Promise me you’ll call?”

“On my life,” he said. The answer brought a warm smile to your face- a smile he wanted to see again. As soon as possible. And when you gave his phone back, he took a moment to stare down at your number. This had to be a dream.

“Do me a favor and go get some rest, okay?” He extended his pinky and linked it with yours, “Drink a lot of water. And even though she seems like she’s in a bad mood, ask your roommate to check in on you every now and then.”

“Yeah, like she’s gonna go for that-”

“Tell her that if she doesn’t, I’m coming back to look after you myself. And I’ll drink her, her um…”

“Kombucha,” you whispered.

“Right, I’ll drink her Kombucha!” He laughed and shot you a wink, “That’ll do the trick.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wiggled your pinky with his, and stepped into the still-open elevator doors. “Thank you for everything. I’m really happy I met you.”

Bucky blushed. “So am I. Not under the best circumstances, but-”

“Worth it,” you shot him a wink. Just as the doors began to close, the two of you exchanged waves. And just before Bucky vanished from view, you threw a quick “call me” his way. And then he was gone.

You made it back to your apartment, nearly tripping over Emma’s luggage. She apologized as you grabbed a glass of water and nearly cried when you told her the story of your evening. And though you wanted to hear about her airport nightmare, you needed to sleep.

You got settled in bed and realized- you missed Bucky already.

And just as you decided to go to sleep for the night, your phone buzzed:

“Wanted to call but figured it might be too soon- seeing as it’s only been about four minutes. I’ll call you in the morning. And just so you know: even without the tap dancing, I found you very entertaining. I’m really glad I met you.

If you need anything at all, let me know. Feel better.

-JBB”

—————————————

Taglist: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl l @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @evangeliamerryll l @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi i @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo

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mym1na · 4 months ago

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୨ৎ SKATER GIRL ─ HANNI PHAM.

— 001. RAN OVER, half written.

#FLASHBACK!

11:40 AM | 📍some sidewalk idk man

Hanni, on a random Friday, continued her routine. She got ready, left her house, and then skated to Minji’s house to hang out with the older girl.

Hanni was too busy enjoying the music that was playing on her headphones, letting her music and skateboard guide her through the path she takes almost every day, not paying any attention to her surroundings. So imagine the surprise she had when, the moment she gained consciousness, she suddenly noticed a figure that emerged from nowhere.

“What the fuck—” A sudden, panicked voice yelled out. Hanni's eyes bulged at the figure, skidding to a halt and nearly falling off her board after hearing the other faint voice. Hanni removed her headphones before looking over the girl to make sure she didn’t hit her in any way. “I’m so sorry!” Hanni says with a panicky and awkward stare.

“Did you almost kill me by running me over with a skateboard?” Yn’s brows furrowed with disbelief that she had almost died in a skateboard accident. Absolutely embarrassing.

“Well, I didn’t mean to,” Hanni replied, awkwardly grabbing her skateboard from the ground and sliding it under her arms to keep it still.

“And also, I doubt you would’ve died from it, so—uh.”

Yn frowned at this. “You don’t know that.” She says this while looking down at her watch.

“Shit. I’m late. Thanks for almost running me over; you made me even more late, gosh.” Yn says while moving away from Hanni, speed-walking past Hanni without any glance.

Hanni just watched the girl walk away, staring at her until she slowly disappeared from the distance.

“I should’ve asked for her number,” Hanni muttered to herself before blinking herself out of the trance she was stuck in. She shook her head before continuing the path she was on, on foot instead, just to make sure she wouldn’t almost run any more pretty girls.

12:05 PM | 📍Minji’s place (🏳️‍🌈)

“So, let me get this straight—” Minji paused to take a bite of the ice cream she was eating. “You almost did a hit-and-run on a skateboard; she was slightly rude, but yet you still wanted her number?” Minji said, trying to understand the situation properly and finding the whole thing silly in the best way possible. “What? I like them a little mean.” Hanni says with a huff, leaning into the chair she was sitting in as Minji snorts at the response she was given.

“Until they get too mean.”

“That’s why I said a little mean.” Hanni said.

Hanni let out a depressive sigh. “You think I’m going to see her again?”

Minji shrugged, putting her ice cream down beside her and pulling out her phone. “I don’t know; probably, apparently, we all meet someone twice.”

“I hope I meet her again.”

“That girl probably told you to kill yourself, and you’re over here like, 'awhhh, I miss this girl'; you don’t even know her.” Minji made fun of the girl for being in a lover girl era with someone who seems to not give a fuck.

“Okay and?? Don’t be jealous that a pretty girl looked in my direction.” Hanni rolled her eyes with a huff.

Minji snorted once more, now scrolling on her phone, probably wandering around in the jungle called the internet. Minji’s brow furrowed in curiosity as she stared down at her phone. “Haerin replied to a tweet.”

“Okay…?” Hanni questioned why Minji was telling her this, as, you know, everyone replies to something.

“To a girl who is complaining about almost getting run over by a skateboard.” Minji finished her sentence, and not even two seconds later, Hanni was by her side, looking at the girl’s phone.

“What.” Was all Hanni said before grabbing Minji’s phone out of her hands, quicker than the flash.

“Hey!”

“Shhh.” Hanni moved her hand towards Minji’s mouth, covering it so the girl could keep quiet.

Hanni stared at Haerin's reply. Going to the girl’s account and straight to the following so she can find her “hit and run” girl.

“Is that stalking?” Minji muffled from Hanni’s hand. Hanni quickly took her hand off Minji’s mouth to give her a quick slap on the head before landing her hand right back on Minji's mouth. Earning herself a small “ow” from the girl.

“No.”

“I’m gonna text her.”

Minji quickly removed Hanni’s hand from her mouth, snatching her phone back. “Text her on your phone, not mine, you stupid gay.”

Hanni let out an annoyed sigh before rushing to pull out her phone. Repeating the same steps as before, she stopped and thought to herself, Maybe it did seem like she was stalking if she just sent her a dm.

“I’m gonna text Haerin.”

“Why?”

“…I don’t want to look like I’m stalking.” Hanni sent Minji a glare, knowing the girl was going to take that as a win, like Hanni was admitting to stalking.

Minji went to open her mouth, but before she could, Hanni spoke before her.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Minji acted shocked, throwing her hands up in the air as if she wasn’t going to do anything.

MASTERLIST | NEXT

[OPEN] TAGSLIST ༄ @saysirhc @aeriigfs @sixflame438 @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @luvqiris @frenchyypoo @wintersgff

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the--blackdahlia · 1 month ago

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Total Eclipse of the Heart (Beetlejuice x Reader)

Title: Total Eclipse of the Heart

Summary: Beetlejuice and (Y/n) share a bond that's suddenly severed. He would do anything to get her back.

Warnings: Mentions of attempted suicide, depression, longing

Beetlejuice let off a maniacal laugh as Juno yelled about the surprise he’d left on her desk. His favorite pastime was annoying the ever-loving shit out of her, and he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. He made his way through the halls, a shit-eating grin on his face. He saw people standing around the water cooler, chatting away—typical civil servant behavior. Beetlejuice grabbed a coffee cup from some random desk and joined them.

“So, what are we talking about? Sam and Diane? Frasier and Lillith? Are we still on who shot JR?” The people around the water cooler all quieted at his presence. Something that never really happened before. “What? I got shit on my face or something?”

“Beej,” One of the few friends he’d managed to make since working on his “people skills” with (Y/n), approached him. This was a man named Chris. Beetlejuice didn’t know his whole backstory, but he knew he’d done some really bad shit.

“What?” He snapped. Chris held out a nametag to show Beetlejuice. Placing it in his hand, the demon was able to see the name.

(Y/n).

“What the fuck is this?” He asked before the pain set in. Starting at where his heart should be and stretching down his left hand to where a ring sat. Not a wedding ring, because she wasn’t ready. But a promise ring. Which, in Beetlejuice’s eyes, was the same thing. He dropped the coffee cup, watching it shatter on the ground before he took off running towards the exit. He hit the door with a force he didn’t know he had, falling through the brick wall of the Maitland-Deetz home. He landed on the attic floor, right at Barbara’s feet.

“That looked rough,” Her comment sounded flat, probably due to her and Adam staring out the window, watching for the Deetz to come back.

“Where’s (Y/n)?” The demon stood and dusted himself off.

“We don’t know,” Adam turned to look at Beetlejuice. “Lydia and Matilda are out looking for her.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Adam and Barbara looked at each other. “I swear on Ryan Reynolds, someone better tell me what the fuck is going on!”

“Here,” Barbara handed Beetlejuice a piece of paper. He unfolded it to read.

I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. Nobody blame yourselves. You were all lovely. I’m the broken thing in this house. Nobody summon Juicebox to look for me. He’ll see me sitting at a desk in the Nether before long. I love you all.

~(Y/n)

“The fuck?” He wasn’t sure he understood what was happening, but he knew it was hurting him. “Where is she?!” He boomed, closing his eyes and hoping to hear her say his name. But nothing came.

So he waited. He stood at the window while Adam and Barbara milled around, doing things to keep themselves distracted but not having much purpose. Neither of them had ever seen Beetlejuice stand so still. He normally bounced off the walls, and if he was sitting, he was bouncing his leg or playing with whatever fidget toy Lydia or (Y/n) would give him. Matilda swore he had ADHD, but how do you diagnose a demon?

Finally, he saw Matilda’s car at the end of the driveway. Beetlejuice was right at the front door as Lydia and Matilda entered. Barbara and Adam were hovering not far behind, and even Delia was waiting.

“We found her. Got her to the hospital,” Lydia explained. “They’re going to observe her overnight, make sure there’s nothing medical that needs to happen. Then she’s going to a psychiatric hospital for a mandatory 72-hour observation. After the 72 hours, they’ll determine if she’s safe to return home.”

“Did you tell her to summon me?” Beetlejuice asked, noting that both Lydia and Matilda stayed quiet. “Lydia!”

“She didn’t want us to summon you there. I don’t think she wants you to see her as anything less than perfect.”

“But she’s always so happy! Always smiling!”

“Beej, sometimes the people who smile the biggest are the ones that are hurting the most,” Matilda was trying to be gentle. But Beetlejuice wasn’t having it. He stormed off to spend time in the graveyard in the attic. Lydia sighed and looked over at Matilda.

“It’ll be ok. They’ll both be okay…” Matilda took her hand and led her towards their home library.

****

(Y/n) sat in the strange, sterile office of the doctor she would be seeing while in the psychiatric hospital. There wasn’t much in the way of decorations. The diplomas on the wall seemed to be laminated photocopies. No glass that way. Instead of porcelain knick-knacks, there were a couple of small, plush toys. Like the little bag clips that kids would load onto their backpacks. Across the strong, oak desk that is bolted to the cold vinyl flooring, sat Dr. Edward Wheeler. An older gentleman with thick graying hair, and glasses placed on the bridge of his nose. He had (Y/n)’s file opened in front of him.

“Well, Ms. (y/l/n)...”

“Please, call me (Y/n).”

“Okay. (Y/n). What led you to being in my office today?” He looked up at (Y/n), watching her fidget in the uncomfortable chair.

“Dunno…” She mumbled. He made a tsk noise and wrote a note on his notepad.

“Well, according to the notes from the ER, you had a high level of opioids in your system. And you told the staff that you took them intending to end your life,” He looked back up at her. “Your friends, Lydia Deetz and Matilda Wormwood, they were the ones that brought you to the hospital, is that correct.”

“Yeah,” (Y/n) signed. “Always seem to know when I’m in trouble.”

“Now, (Y/n), looking at your past medical history, you’ve spoken to a therapist about…seeing ghosts?” He raised an eyebrow. “And specifically, one named Beetlejuice?” He noticed the little smile that spread on her face. “Does that speak to you?”

“If you say his name three times, he’ll come here and prove I’m not crazy,” She was excited to see him again. She knew he’d probably be mad at what she did, and a little overprotective, but they could see each other again.”

“Well, then that is our sign to no longer use that name,” Dr. Wheeler wrote a few more notes. “From now on, that will be a banned word during therapy and as long as you are under my care.” Instantly, (Y/n)’s hand went to the ring that was on her left hand. One made from the same material as Beetlejuice’s. Dr. Wheeler noticed. “How did you get that in here?”

“Oh, this is from Be…Beej. It’s a comfort item.”

“I’m sorry but you can’t have this. It will be placed with your other belongings,” He held out his hand for her to place the ring in.

“Oh please Dr. Wheeler, let me keep it. Please.”

“I can’t do that (Y/n). Now please give it to me. I don’t want to have security come in and remove it from you,” (Y/n) felt the tears welling up in her eyes as she twisted the ring a couple of times before slowly removing it from her finger.

She felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest as she placed the ring in the doctor's hand. She couldn’t feel Beetlejuice anymore, and she suddenly felt really alone.

****

“AHHHH!” Beetlejuice screamed, throwing himself to the ground and holding his chest. The dramatic display spooked everyone, including Lydia, who didn’t scare easy. “(Y/n)!”

“What’s wrong?” Matilda moved through the kitchen to where Beetlejuice was now sitting up, holding his hand out in front of him.

“Her ring is gone. I can’t feel her anymore,” He watched as the light faded out from the band on his finger. He could always tell how (Y/n) felt through the ring. If she took it off to wash dishes, there would be a slight tingle followed by the scent of whatever soap they had that week. If she was mad at him and took off her ring, it burned. But this, this was different. It was just like someone had stuck a branding iron through his chest.

“She’s not…dead, is she?” Adam put down the paper he was reading.

“No. If she was dead, I’d know. She’s not dead,” Beetlejuice managed to stand up. “I have to go see her.”

“How are you going to that? She’s not going to summon you,” Lydia crossed her arms. “And there’s no visitors until she calls us to say she’s allowed visitors.”

“Well, when’s that?”

“Whenever her doctor says she can have visitors.”

“FUCK!!!” Beetlejuice went storming off.

“You think he’s angry?” Barbara was matching paint to the new wallpaper Lydia had helped her put up.

“I think that’s the understatement of the year,” Matilda returned to her baking as Lydia returned to help Barbara.

****

“Hello?” Lydia answered her phone. It was the number for the hospital that (Y/n) was at. It had been two weeks since the incident, and Beetlejuice had alternated between moping around the house and going to perform bio exorcisms to keep his mind distracted. But he was at home, listening to Matila having a book club with Adam and Barbara.

“Lyds? It’s me.”

“(Y/n)! How are you feeling?” That got the group's attention. Beetlejuice was on his feet in an instant.

“Let me talk to her!” He tried to grab for the phone, but Lydia held it away from him.

“I’m doing ok. Dr. Wheeler says I can have visitors. I was wondering if you and Matilda would come visit me.” She sounded different. More relaxed.

“Of course. We’ll come by tomorrow. We both have the day off from work.”

“That works perfectly. I have therapy today, but tomorrow I’m free. It’ll be great to see you guys.”

“Do you want us to bring you anything? Or anyone else?”

“No, that’s ok. Thank you for the offer. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Lydia hung up then.

“Why didn’t you let me talk to her?” Beetlejuice asked with a slight growl in his voice.

“I didn’t want to bombard her with things. Especially as she’s trying to heal Beej,” Lydia’s voice was calm and even, the complete opposite of Beetlejuice’s voice. “She asked for Matilda and I to go visit her tomorrow.”

“I’m going too.”

“Beej…I don’t think…”

“I’m. Going.”

“Okay, fine. But if she doesn’t want you there, you pop out. Wait in the car or something, okay?”

“Deal.” Beetlejuice turned and went back to Matilda’s deep discussion on A Game of Thrones.

****

“We’re here to see (Y/n),” Lydia told the receptionist.

“Just the two of you?” She wrote out their name tags. Beetlejuice was trying to stay hidden—part of the deal he made with Matilda and Lydia to get to join them. Stay hidden until they get to see (Y/n).

“Yes ma’am,” Matilda smiled and accepted the nametag.

“More than likely, she’s either in the garden drawing or she’s in the great room playing piano. I’d try the garden first. It’s a nice day.”

“Thank you,” Lydia, Matilda, and Beetlejuice made their way to the garden. A few people were walking around, talking with each other or with a nurse. They saw (Y/n) settled into a molded plastic chair, sketching an older gentleman just down the walkway. He was sitting on one of the concrete benches, watching birds.

“(Y/n),” Matilda was trying to make her voice as soft and even as possible. (Y/n) looked up and smiled, setting her sketchbook down and getting up to hug Lydia and Matilda.

“You guys made it. I’m so glad to see you.” She smiled, but it didn’t really show in her eyes. To Beetlejuice, it seemed that the life had been sucked out of her.

“Hey babycakes, I’ve missed you,” Beetlejuice spoke up. But it was like (Y/n) didn’t see him. “(Y/n)?”

“Let me show you guys my room. A couple of the teenagers here drew some art for it. I’ve got a radio, and Nurse Shelley brought me a big fuzzy blanket to cuddle up with,” (Y/n) led the group towards her room. Matilda walked ahead of Lydia and Beetlejuice.

“What the fuck is going on? She can’t see me?” He asked. “Why the fuck can’t she see me?”

“I don’t know Beej. We’ll figure it out, okay?” Lydia patted his shoulder.

“Here it is! I’ve even got a window. I love sketching the sunsets,” (Y/n) showed them the small room with bars on the window. “I’ve gotten a lot better. Dr. Wheeler has hope that I should be able to go home soon.”

“Well, I know Adam, Barbara, and Beej miss you,” Lydia tested the waters. (Y/n) looked at her like she had two heads.

“Adam…Barbara…oh. The ghosts. The ones that I made up to represent the homelife I never really had,” (Y/n)’s smile fell a bit. “They’re not real.”

“(Y/n), you know that’s not true. Plus, Beetlejuice really misses you…” Matilda stopped when (Y/n) backed up from her. “(Y/n)?”

“Please don’t say that name. That is a bad name. We don’t use that word here,” Lydia glanced over at Beetlejuice, whose mouth was hanging open. (Y/n) couldn’t see him, because she didn’t believe in him. Not anymore.

“Excuse me,” Dr. Wheeler knocked on the door. “(Y/n), is everything okay?”

“Yes, Dr. Wheeler. I was just showing Lydia and Matilda my room,” (Y/n) smiled at the doctor. “Lyds, Tillie, this is Dr. Wheeler. He’s helped me so much.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you two,” He shook their hands. “(Y/n), it’s almost lunch and medication time. I’m going to take your friends to discuss the process with them. Oh, it’s pizza day.”

“Oh, I love pizza day,” (Y/n) walked past the doctor. Beetlejuice wanted to follow. He wanted to be near (Y/n), but he also felt like his heart was breaking. So he walked behind Lydia and Matilda as they followed Dr. Wheeler to his office.

“So, you’re Lydia Deetz, and you’re Matilda Wormwood, am I correct?” Dr. Wheeler asked once the girls had settled in chairs across from his desk.

“Yeah. We’re (Y/n)’s best friends and roommates,” Lydia could feel Beetlejuice standing right behind her, sizing up the doctor.

“Then you must know how fragile (Y/n)’s psyche is,” Dr. Wheeler opened (Y/n)’s file. “In her first therapy sessions, we asked her to draw things. We just wanted to get a sense of what she was seeing, what she was feeling,” He laid a few drawings out. One was Adam and Barbara, sitting on the couch together. But there was a dark haze to it. Too much black crayon was used on what was a pretty sunny memory. Another was Beetlejuice sitting at a table, feet up, smoking a cigarette. Lydia taking pictures of food, and Matilda making books float around the room. All of them were memories, but all of them seemed to be have a shadow over them.

“These are good,” Matilda commented. “(Y/n) doesn’t draw as much as she used to. We have some of her work hanging in the library.”

“We asked her to draw what she sees at home. And she drew ghosts. She told us that this is Adam and Barbara Maitland, who, according to our records, died quite some time ago. She drew Ms. Wormwood using magic to move things around the house. She drew Lydia doing possibly the only normal thing. But what is most concerning is this personification of her depression, the mess in her mind.” He pointed to the picture of Beetlejuice.

“That’s not a personification of anything,” Lydia started, but Dr. Wheeler raised a hand to stop her.

“She says this is named Beetlejuice. She told me if we said his name three times, that he would show up. We have worked very hard to help her work through this creation. She now draws happier things. Flowers, birds, the sunset. We banned this name from being said, and she has come to terms with the fact that she created these imaginary characters to help her cope with the stresses of life. These people do not exist.”

“Dr. Wheeler, you don’t understand…”

“No Ms. Deetz, you don’t understand. (Y/n) is sick. We are trying to heal her. If I had my way, she would not be returning to the house on the hill. But she’s an adult and we can’t stop her from going someplace. And since we are so close to getting her to a healthy point, I will have to ask that you do not visit anymore until she is ready to be discharged.

“WHAT?!” Beetlejuice all but screamed, but Dr. Wheeler didn’t seem to notice anything was amiss.

Reluctantly, Lydia and Matilda left his office. He promised he would take care of informing (Y/n) about the new arrangement. Beetlejuice wanted to stick around the hospital to watch over (Y/n), but Lydia pulled him away.

“We’ll get her back Beej,” Lydia promised him when they got to the car. But when Lydia looked at Matilda, there were tears in her eyes.

Maybe they had actually lost their best friend.

****

“Okay, I’m going to go pick up (Y/n),” Matilda told Adam, Barbara, and Beetlejuice over a week later. “Lydia will be home from work shortly. Now, we don’t know if (Y/n) is going to be able to see all of you guys or not. We just have to be gentle with her, okay?”

“We will all be on our best behaviors,” Adam promised. Beetlejuice rolled his eyes and went back to staring out the window at the driveway.

That’s where he was when Lydia got home from work. Watching for Matilda’s car to come up the drive. Lydia sat down next to him.

“It’s like watching water boil or paint drying, isn’t it?” She asked him.

“What’s taking so long?” He grumbled, watching a bird fly in front of the window.

“Paperwork probably. It takes a while,” Lydia looked out the window with him. That’s when Matilda’s car appeared, pulling up the driveway. Everyone waited as (Y/n) and Matilda got out, (Y/n)’s few belongings in a bag in her hands. They walked into the house.

“It’s a little chilly in here,” (Y/n) walked right past Barbara and Adam without saying a word. “But it’s so good to be home.”

“We’re glad to have you back,” Lydia hugged (Y/n). Beetlejuice watched (Y/n) curiously like a cat just watching his territory.

“Babe,” He whispered, but it fell on deaf ears as the girls headed upstairs to (Y/n)’s room. Beetlejuice started to follow.

“Maybe you should give her some space,” Adam commented, but Beetlejuice just glared at him before heading upstairs as well.

“Here, I drew some new things,” (Y/n) handed Lydia and Matilda some new artwork she had done. “I think I might take painting up again.” Lydia wanted to say that Adam would love to have a painting friend, but she kept quiet. “Oh, there’s that ring.” The two other girls looked back at Beetlejuice, who was excited. Once (Y/n) put her ring back on, she’d be linked to him again. He’d be able to feel her, to help her. “Do either of you know where I got this? I don’t remember.”

“Uh…” Was all Matilda could muster. (Y/n) shrugged and looked at the elegant band again before setting it on her dresser.

“Who’s hungry? I’m starving,” (Y/n) walked past Beetlejuice, stopping for a second. “Man, I just got a draft. I think I need to get my hoodies out of the closet.” She walked away then as Beetlejuice stood there.

****

It had been a couple of weeks since (Y/n) had returned home. While things were peaceful, Lydia felt she was walking on eggshells, trying to keep the ghost talk to a minimum. Beetlejuice was pining a lot. He just wanted (Y/n) to see him. But nothing seemed to work. So he was currently sitting in the kitchen, watching as (Y/n) did dishes and sang along with the music from her phone. He heard the beginning piano of that Bonnie Tyler song playing.

“Turn around,” He whispered along with the guy on the song.

“Every now and then, I get a little bit lonely, and you're never coming 'round,” (Y/n) sang. Beetlejuice perked up a bit. Maybe this was what he needed.

“Turn around,” Beetlejuice watched her.

“Every now and then, I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears,” (Y/n) sang into the wooden spoon she had been drying.

“Turn around…”

“Every now and then, I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by,” She rinsed a plate and set it in the drying rack.

“Turn around…”

“Every now and then, I get a little bit terrified, and then I see the look in your eyes,” Beetlejuice stood behind (Y/n) then.

“Turn around, bright eyes…”

“Every now and then I fall apart…”

“Turn around, bright eyes…”

“Every now and then I fall apart,” (Y/n) turned around to face Beetlejuice and he swore for a brief second, she was looking right at him.

“Turn around,” He reached out to touch her, but she was just a little out of reach.

“Every now and then I get a little bit restless and I dream of something wild,” The Maitlands, Lydia, and Matilda could hear (Y/n) and Beetlejuice singing from the kitchen. They didn’t want to break whatever spell was going on. They all wanted (Y/n) back, but they also needed to see what was going on.

“Turn around…”

“Every now and then I get a little bit helpless and I'm lying like a child in your arms,” (Y/n) could feel the cold air in the kitchen with her, the same cold feeling that had been following her around the house since she came back. She could also feel eyes on her from the dining room but made no move to look that way.

“Turn around,” Beetlejuice watched her. He could tell she was feeling something. He was feeling that spark back in his heart.

“Every now and then I get a little bit angry and I know I've got to get out and cry,” (Y/n) could feel tears in her eyes.

“Turn around.”

“Every now and then I get a little bit terrified but then I see the look in your eyes,” (Y/n) couldn’t stop singing even if she wanted to. Something was compelling her to keep going.

“Turn around bright eyes,” Beetlejuice couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on his face.

“Every now and then I fall apart.”

“Turn around bright eyes.”

“Every now and then I fall apart!” Right then, Beetlejuice made his move. He reached out and was finally able to touch her. He wrapped one arm around her waist and held her hand in his other one. She rested her other arm on his shoulder. She couldn’t see what was going on, but she could feel cold against her skin.

“And I need you now tonight, and I need you more than ever. And if you only hold me tight we'll be holding on forever. And we'll only be making it right 'cause we'll never be wrong,” (Y/n) sang as she was twirled around the room. Right then, she was able to see Adam and Barbara standing with Lydia and Matilda.

So the ghosts were real after all.

“Together we can take it to the end of the line. Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time.”

“All of the time,” Barbara, Adam, Lydia, and Matilda found themselves singing backup. Part of the Beetlejuice band apparently.

“I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark. We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks,” (Y/n) sang to the invisible force in front of her. She knew who it was, but she just couldn’t make the connection. Not yet. “I really need you tonight. Forever's gonna start tonight.”

“Forever gonna start tonight,” The quartet sang as (Y/n) stopped moving around the room.

“Once upon a time I was falling in love, but now I'm only falling apart. There's nothing I can do, a total eclipse of the heart,” (Y/n) looked around, a little confused as to why she had stopped dancing. “Once upon a time there was light in my life but now there's only love in the dark. Nothing I can say, a total eclipse of the heart.”

That’s when she felt herself being lifted up and placed on the breakfast table, a clattering of glassware on her less-than-graceful landing. She felt herself moving around the table again with the same invisible force. Now the other four stood around the table, watching her.

“Turn around, bright eyes. Turn around, bright eyes,” She could hear them sing, but there was a fifth voice there. A deeper, more gravelly one. One that she heard whisper her name many a night. “Turn around.”

“Every now and then I know you'll never be the boy you always wanted to be.”

“Turn around,” Beetlejuice sang, and (Y/n) could hear him clearly this time.

“But every now and then I know you'll always be the only boy who wanted me the way that I am,” She could feel her feet leaving the table as she floated up into the air. The rest of the world just seemed to melt away as a hazy figure entered her vision.

“Turn around,” He sang to her, with an accompaniment. But she knew it was him.

“Every now and then I know there's no one in the universe as magical and wondrous as you,” There he was, with that shit-eating grin he always wore. The one she loved to see, even when he was pulling pranks on her.

“Turn around,” He whispered to her, moving his head to kiss the hand that he was holding.

“Every now and then I know there's nothing any better. There's nothing that I just wouldn't do,” She returned the favor, kissing his hand this time.

“Turn around bright eyes.”

“Every now and then I fall apart,” She felt him pull her a little closer at that statement.

“Turn around bright eyes.”

“Every now and then I fall apart! And I need you now tonight. And I need you more than ever. And if you only hold me tight, we'll be holding on forever. And we'll only be making it right 'Cause we'll never be wrong. Together we can take it to the end of the line. Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time!”

“All of the time.” The quartet sang back to her.

“I don't know what to do, I'm always in the dark. Living in a powder keg and giving off sparks!” She was putting emotion into this that needed to be let out for years. Tears were streaming down her face, but she never wanted Beetlejuice to let her go. “I really need you tonight. Forever's gonna start tonight.” He lowered them back down to the table.

“Forever’s gonna start tonight,” He whispered in her ear as he pulled her against his chest.

“Once upon a time, I was falling in love. But now I'm only falling apart. Nothing I can do, a total eclipse of the heart,” She all but cried into his chest. “Once upon a time, there was light in my life. But now there's only love in the dark. Nothing I can say. A total eclipse of the heart.”

The pair didn’t hear the four finishing off the song as Beetlejuice kissed (Y/n) deeply, emotions pouring off of both of them. Once the world seemed to come back into focus, (Y/n) looked up into his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” She whispered, more tears threatening to spill. He cradled her face in his hands.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he wiped the tears away with his thumb. “I’m not going to let you fall again. I promise.”

#beetlejuice #michael keaton #beetlejuice x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #also has matilda

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