#what if I was running from the things in my past and fell into a field through a door and you laughed and helped me up
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Busy

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
CW: Explicit sexual content, dominant/submissive dynamics, spanking, power imbalance, emotional vulnerability, mild humiliation, tears, aftercare, consensual BDSM with soft limits.
Synopsis: Y/N gets bratty after Harry ignores her for a week.
You had a bad idea.
Not just any kind of bad idea, but the kind of bad idea that your sweet, sensitive self wouldn’t normally even think about acting on. Except… well, it had been a week.
A full, torturous week of Harry holed up in the studio, headphones half-off and hair a mess, obsessing over the final mixes of his album. He came home late. Ate silently. Fell into bed next to you smelling like vanilla and frustration. Every night, you’d curl into his side like a good girl, hoping he’d roll over, mouth at your shoulder and pull your panties down.
But every night?
Nothing.
So now, here you were, standing at the doorway of his at-home studio in your little sleep shirt, barely-there fabric, hem riding up every time you shifted your weight, sleeves falling past your knuckles, pouting so deeply your lip trembled. But not in the soft, sniffly way he was used to. No. You were being a brat.
"You're obsessed with that stupid album," you muttered, arms crossed.
Harry didn’t even flinch. He turned a knob and scribbled something on a notepad, his back to you.
You scoffed. “You're honestly being such an asshole.”
That did it.
His head turned, slowly. He looked over his shoulder, hair a little messy from running his hands through them over and over again.
“Come again?” His voice was low. Calm. But not amused.
You shifted on your feet, unsure now. This wasn’t your usual tone with him. You were the sweet one. The cry-easily one. The soft girl.
You swallowed. “Nothing.”
He leaned back in his chair and spread his thighs a little wider. His eyes dragged over you. “You’ve got about five seconds to come in here and say what you meant.”
You squirmed. Your plan hadn’t gone much further than this.
Still, your feet moved. You padded in, heart pounding. “I just meant… you haven’t touched me in days, Harry.”
He nodded, once. “I know, sweetheart. I’ve been busy.”
“That’s not fair,” you huffed, suddenly brave. “You always say that when you're working. What about me?”
He raised his eyebrows and didn’t blink. “What about you?”
You stared at him, the flush creeping up your neck. “I’m—I need you. But you don’t care.”
His jaw ticked. Slowly, he stood.
You watched him walk around the desk. He didn’t stop until he was in front of you, and still, his voice never rose.
“Let me get this straight,” he murmured. “You storm into my studio. In your little shirt. Acting like a brat. Talking back. All because I haven’t fucked you in a week?”
You bit your lip, nodding.
He tilted his head. “You think I don’t care about you because I’ve been finishing an album I’ve poured years into?”
That part stung. You didn’t mean it like that. You looked down.
“I didn’t mean—”
“No, baby. You did,” he said, quietly. “You meant it. You wanted to hurt me a little. Thought if you poked me hard enough, I’d snap.”
“I—”
“Be quiet.”
You closed your mouth.
He stepped closer, chest brushing yours. His hand found your jaw, not rough, but firm. His thumb pressed against your lower lip.
“You’re usually such a sweet thing,” he murmured. “What’s gotten into you, hmm?”
Your eyes welled up. Instinctively, you tilted toward him.
“I missed you,” you whispered.
“I know you did,” he said. “But that’s not how you tell me.”
“I’m sorry…”
He hummed. “You will be.”
Your stomach flipped.
He took your hand and walked you to the edge of the couch in the studio, small, low, the one he sat on between takes. He sat first, then pulled you over his lap, face-down, ass up. His hand ran gently down your back, toying with the hem of your shirt.
“I try so hard to be patient with you,” he murmured. “You’re usually so good for me. Sweet little thing. So why do you act like a brat when you know I’m barely holding it together?”
His hand smoothed over your ass once, then landed a sharp, open-palm slap that made your breath catch.
“Count for me.”
“O-One.”
Another. Firmer.
“Two.”
“You looked so pretty standing in that doorway,” he murmured. “So pretty, even when you’re being a little mean.”
Three. Four.
You gasped, hips twitching in his lap.
“Harry—”
“No talking,” he said gently. “Keep going.”
Five. Six. Seven.
Your voice trembled.
“Eight…”
By ten, your legs were shaking. You buried your face in your arm.
When he finally stopped, his hands smoothed over your warm skin. “That’s enough.”
You breathed in sharply, then again, like you were about to cry. But he gently moved you to stand between his legs.
“Take your shirt off.”
You blinked at him.
“I said take it off.”
You pulled the sleep shirt over your head, bare underneath, your nipples pebbled from a mix of cold air and nerves. He looked you over, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek.
“Get on the couch.”
You obeyed, knees sinking into the cushion.
“On your tummy.”
You froze.
You hesitated.
“I don’t want to,” you said softly. “I wanna look at you…”
His expression didn’t change. But his jaw clenched slightly. He moved closer.
“No.”
Your lip trembled. “But I just—”
“No,” he repeated. “You don’t get that tonight.”
You blinked fast. “Harry…”
“Get on your tummy.”
When you didn’t move right away, his voice came again, soft but unmistakably stern.
“Now.”
You turned, heart in your throat, and laid on your front. Your cheek pressed into the pillow, and tears began to slip down without permission.
He knelt behind you, strong hands parting your thighs. You whimpered, wanting, needing, his touch.
When he eased into you, slow and deep, you gasped sharply.
“You’ll take it,” he murmured. “You’ll take it and remember not to act out next time.”
You cried softly, face buried, hands curled in the pillow. Your hips twitched toward him, needy, even as your body quivered.
Halfway through, when you felt overwhelmed and aching and emotional, you reached behind blindly, searching for his hand.
He caught your wrist. Held it firmly.
“No touching.”
You sniffled. “I—I’m sorry…”
“I know,” he whispered. “But you still need to learn.”
You nodded into the pillow, crying quietly as he drove deeper, relentless but not cruel. You wanted to see his eyes, to see softness return, but he wouldn’t let you. He stayed behind you, keeping the space between you firm, no matter how much you squirmed.
When you came, it was with a sob in the pillow.
He pulled out slowly, breathing heavy, and tucked himself back into his sweats. The room fell quiet, save for your soft sniffles.
Then…
His hands—warm, wide, familiar—slid under your body. He lifted you gently and turned you over onto your back, then pulled you into his chest like you were made of glass.
His voice, finally, was soft again.
“Oh, baby…”
You curled into him immediately.
“I didn’t mean it,” you whispered, fists in his hoodie. “I missed you. I just—I don’t know what came over me—”
“I know, lovie. I know,” he whispered, kissing your temple over and over. “I shouldn’t have let it get this long. That’s on me.”
You clung to him, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin.
“I just wanted you to look at me,” you mumbled.
He pulled back, tilting your chin.
“I always look at you,” he murmured. “Always. Even when I’m tired. Even when I’m busy. You’re all I see, baby.”
You hiccuped.
“I didn’t like not touching you...”
“I didn’t like saying no,” he whispered. “But I had to. You needed to know you crossed a line.”
You nodded, eyes glassy.
“I was bad.”
“No,” he said firmly. “You’re never bad. Just a little bratty sometimes.”
You smiled through your tears.
He kissed your nose.
“You’re still my sweet girl.”
“Even when I make you mad?”
“I wasn’t mad,” he said. “Just… frustrated. And maybe a little hurt.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know.”
He rocked you gently, murmuring against your hair.
“Let me take care of you now,” he whispered. “You were good in the end. So good for me.”
You nodded, already dozing off in his arms.
He reached for a blanket and tucked it over you, laying back into the couch and holding you like you were the only thing he needed in the world.
And really, you were.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#dom harry styles#harry#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fluff
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Back to You X Lando Norris (Requested)
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F1 Masterlist
request: Lando Norris x Reader They are actually exes, but realize they can not be without eachother.
They say time heals everything, but no one ever tells you what to do when the missing doesn’t go away when it lingers, quiet and constant, like background noise you can’t quite shut off.
It had been five months since Lando and I broke up.
Five months of pretending I was fine. Smiling at brunches with friends, replying to texts with fake laughs, and scrolling past his Instagram stories like they didn’t make my chest ache. But truthfully? Every part of my day felt just slightly… off. Like the world kept spinning but I’d been knocked half a step behind.
So when I walked into that Monaco party not expecting to see him, not prepared to I froze the second I caught his profile near the bar.
Same messy curls. Same easy grin. Same Lando.
He looked up like he felt me watching him, and our eyes locked. A beat passed. Then another. And I knew.
He excused himself from the conversation he was having, heading straight for me. My stomach turned with nerves, with hope, I couldn’t tell.
“Hey,” he said, voice low, cautious.
“Hi,” I breathed, heart pounding in my chest like it still hadn’t learned we were supposed to be strangers now.
“You look good,” he added, flicking his eyes over me, as if trying to commit every part of me to memory.
“You too,” I managed, even though the lump in my throat was growing.
We stood in silence for a second too long.
“This is weird, isn’t it?” I asked with a small laugh, trying to break the tension.
“It is,” he agreed. “I wasn’t sure if I should come say hi. I didn’t want to...”
“Hurt me?” I offered.
He nodded, looking down at the drink in his hand. “Yeah.”
I bit my lip. “Lando, I’ve been hurt since the day I walked away.”
His head snapped up, eyes meeting mine. “So have I.”
We slipped outside onto the terrace, away from the noise and the music and the stares. The air was cool, the sea shimmering under the moonlight.
“I thought letting you go would make things easier,” I admitted, wrapping my arms around myself. “I thought we’d drift apart and it would stop hurting.”
“But it didn’t,” he finished for me.
I shook my head. “No. I miss you.”
His jaw tightened. “God, Y/N… I miss everything. The way you laugh. The way you always bring a book on flights. Even the way you steal half my hoodies.”
“I still wear them,” I confessed. “That grey one with the faded print? I sleep in it.”
He gave a breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I was going mad. Every time I saw something funny, I’d reach for my phone to text you. Every time I had a bad day, you were the person I wanted.”
“You were always my person, Lando,” I whispered. “Even when we weren’t… working.”
He stepped closer. “We stopped working because we stopped talking. We let the schedules and the travel and the pressure get between us. But I never stopped loving you.”
My eyes burned. “I didn’t either.”
“Then let me fix it,” he said, voice cracking slightly. “Let’s stop pretending we’re better off without each other when we both know that’s a lie.”
A pause. A breath.
And then I nodded.
He took my hand, fingers curling around mine like they belonged there like they never should’ve let go in the first place.
“I don’t want perfect,” I said softly. “I just want you.”
He leaned in slowly, giving me time to pull away if I needed to. But I didn’t. I tilted my head, meeting him halfway in a kiss that tasted of relief and late-night tears and every word we’d never said.
When we pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine.
“We’re doing this differently this time,” he murmured.
“Better,” I agreed.
That night, under the stars and the sound of waves crashing somewhere below, I fell back into the arms I never truly wanted to leave. And for the first time in months, I felt whole again.
#fanfiction#reader#x reader#one shot#requested#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#norris#lando norris#lando#mclaren#mclaren formula 1#formula 1 x oc#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#f1 grid#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1#ln4
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Trust In Me. I’ll Show You My World.
Synopsis: What’s playboy Bruce Wayne hiding?
TW: n/a
A/N: I hate this fic so much. Imma set it on fire:3 also this takes place during year one ish
⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆
Bruce Wayne, the playboy philanthropist, never truly expected to be tied down at any point of his life. He had flings in the past with random girls to keep up his persona, and had a few run-ins with Selina Kyle (for example). But at his core he was married to that cape and cowl. He was the Batman.
So maybe that’s why he’s getting irritated when his spouse was wondering where was when he wasn’t home. She had every reason to question him, but it really did annoy Bruce.
Did it look like he was cheating?
Absolutely.
It was easy to keep up the double life, but when he fell in love, it became all the more difficult. Bruce Wayne and the Batman were two sides of the same coin, and they were both in love with the same woman—their wife. So, if he had to hurt them to keep them away from his vigilante life then so be it. Even if it hurt.
“What I do with my free time is none of your concern, Y/N.” Bruce said, sitting in his office as he read over some documents for his company. It was rare for him to get actual free time. The type of free time where he wasn’t working as the CEO Bruce Wayne, or as the Batman. But was it really free time if he was still working?
“It does though.” Y/N insisted as she stood in front of his desk that was neatly cleaned (as usual). “You’re never home, and when you are home, you’re asleep or hauled up in here.”
“You knew this going into this marriage. You knew this when we started dating.” Bruce reminds, his eyes focused on the documents in front of him. “You knew I was a busy man, and you knew I wasn’t going to be around all the time.”
“Are you cheating on me?”
That caught his attention.
He looked up from his work as he took in her appearance. She looked so…sad and looked like she was waiting for Bruce to say he was.
“Where is this coming from?” He asked, “you truly think I would cheat on you? Sleep around with women behind your back?”
“Considering you’re playboy Bruce Wayne…it’s not entirely off the table.”
“I didn’t have any issues with sleeping around back then, but I’m not like that anymore.” Bruce firmly assured.
It was true. At one point in his life he would have slept around with women because he could. He was rich, had the status, the charm, the good looks—but it was all lies deep down. A way to keep up appearances.
“If you’re not cheating,” Y/N began, their voice dripping with a slight scoff like she didn’t believe him. “What are you doing? Because I refuse to believe you’re working all night long. I go to bed without you and I feel you crawl into bed with me in the early mornings.”
What was he doing?
He was at work and then going straight to patrolling on a normal day. But he couldn’t tell her that.
“I’m not sleeping around, alright?…I have business meetings.”
God, even he wouldn’t believe that lie. And for him, lying came easy considering he leads a double life that nobody but him and Alfred know about.
“At midnight and later? What?” She crossed her arms and raised a brow, “do you stay out all night partying and getting drunk?”
Partying was the last thing he could do, even if it was a gala or a charity event. He always found himself having to sneak off early and play the role of Gotham’s Dark Knight. Besides, he preferred patrolling over partying.
“I’m the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, love. I work with people all over the world. So yes, midnight or later.”
At least that part was true…for the most part.
“Right,” Y/N replied sarcastically.
Bruce finally stood up from his chair and came around his desk causing Y/N to take a step back. “It’s the truth, Y/N.” Half truth. “Why would I bother sleeping around when I have you by my side?” He took a step forward and took her hand, the hand that she wore her dazzling wedding ring on. “You know I would give anything to—.”
“—Do you still love me?”
Of course he did.
“I do. Why would you believe any differently?”
“When was the last time we went to bed together?” Y/N asked with a glare. “Our last date night? The last time we had sex?”
Unable to answer the question, he stayed quiet.
Bruce was too busy playing the role of the bat that anything that wasn’t pertaining was on the back burner. He was neglecting his life, though he had done that prior to meeting his spouse. He was neglecting himself.
He was neglecting her.
And that hurt the most.
“I know that I haven’t been the best husband,” Bruce finally said with guilt laced in his voice. “But you have to believe me when I say that I love you, Y/N.” He used his free hand to lift her chin up so that he could get a better look at her, and the sadness in her eyes. “Just because I’ve been preoccupied does not mean I’ve fallen out of love with you. You have to believe me.”
“Hard to believe when you’re never around,” Y/N bluntly said as she pulled away from Bruce.
“I’m busy. I have a multimillion dollar company to run. I’ve got business meetings and such. I don’t have time to take off and spend every moment of my life with you.”
Y/N knew that.
She was being selfish.
Expecting the worse.
“I just…wish you’d tell me the truth…what’s really going on.”
Bruce paused and stared at her with a conflicted expression. He wanted to tell her the truth, the real truth. He wanted to tell her everything, but what if she didn’t accept him? You’d view him differently.
“You won’t like the truth—.”
“—How do you know that?”
“You’ll think less of me.”
“So you are cheating.”
“No. No, I’m not.” Bruce says as he shakes his head.
“Then tell me the truth.”
“You’re not going to be pleased with me.” Bruce finally said, his eyes looking into Y/N’s own with determination. “I’m the Batman.”
“What?”
“I’m the Batman.” Bruce repeated, “I dress up as a bat and fight criminals at night.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’m not lying to you,” Bruce quickly said with a defensive tone. “I’m telling you the truth. I’m out all night taking down criminals…that’s why I come home late and why I’m always tired.”
“I know who Batman is. He’s that new vigilante who’s appeared out of nowhere. But I have a hard time believing that you’re him.”
He understood why they didn’t believe him. He wasn’t sure if he’d believe him either if he was her. Bruce Wayne was a playboy, and the Batman was a stoic man.
“I understand, but—.”
“—Prove it.”
Bruce hesitated for a moment before he grabbed Y/N’s hand, and before she knew it, she was under the Wayne Manor and descending down stone steps and standing in the middle of a dingy, dark, and cold cave—the Batcave.
“This is where I keep my suit, my gadgets, all of my Batman stuff.” Bruce said as Y/N glanced around eyeing how empty the cave was, especially how high up they were considering there was a bottomless pit just over the ledges. It was high tech and seemed out of this world impossible for someone to own, but Bruce was rich, so Y/N could believe it…barely.
“This…has been here this whole time?” Y/N asked in disbelief, her eyes focusing on the slick black Batmobile.
“Yes, this is where I spend a lot of my time if I’m not on patrol. This is where I’ve been, and why I’m so tired. It’s because of my double life. I patrol every night, beat up criminals, and on the occasion I team with the Commissioner.”
“…”
“Are you finally believing me?” Bruce gently asked as he watched you take in the Batcave.
“I-I’m sorry for accusing you,” Y/N apologizes.
“You didn’t know,” Bruce replied. “And it’s not the most believable thing in the world that I would be the Batman.”
“But now I feel bad.”
Bruce lifted his free hand and placed it on Y/N’s cheek, his calloused thumb gently brushing against her soft skin. “Don’t feel bad. Like I said, it’s not the most believable thing. Nobody would suspect playboy Bruce Wayne to also be the Batman.”
“Nobody…not even me.”
“I’m sorry that you believed I was sleeping around and cheating on you. I feel guilty for worrying you.”
“…”
“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”
“And if I did?”
“It could get me killed,” Bruce bluntly replied. “If you went around and told everyone then I’m sure people would come after me.” His expression hardened, his voice laced with seriousness. “You can’t tell anyone, Y/N. No one can know. Understand?”
Y/N nodded. “Then I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be my—our secret.”
Bruce nodded, “good. Our secret.”
#bruce wayne#dcu#dc comics#bruce wayne x reader#Batman#batman x reader#this is so cliche I swear to god
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time's never been on our side - chapter four
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: you and bucky happen to meet by chance one night, and it feels like there is a spark between the two of you - but he has to leave. was this destiny? or cruel fate?
word count: 3.5K
read the: previous chapter
a/n: it's been *checks notes* almost 2 months since i've updated this fic but i promise i'm not abandoning it. i really love this chapter and have some exciting things planned!! enjoy.
The days following your night with Bucky were a whirlwind. If you and Bucky weren’t out grabbing breakfast one morning then by the afternoon the two of you were taking long walks through the park. And if you still hadn’t seen each other by night time, then you usually met up for dinner or drinks. It was always causal, and consistent.
There hadn’t been a day that passed since Bucky returned that the two of you didn’t see each other. It was like two magnets, drawn to each other every single time.
It was now a little short of two weeks, the increasing anxiety of Bucky's temporary break almost being complete should be plaguing his mind — but it's not. Instead when he hit his pillow at night all he saw was your face, and he’d dream of the day he spent with you, because these days you were the only thing on his mind.
Life had never felt so exciting before. All the years worth of fighting and running all suddenly felt like they had a purpose, like they were leading him to this exact moment. Bucky finally had a reason to wake up in the morning.
There were three more days left of his break. He did his best to not look at his phone and think about Steve's eventual call or where in the world he would be placed on his next mission. Hundreds of miles away from you.
Bucky's mornings didn't seem to drag on as they used to. He didn't wake up from his sleep with hopes that this day would go by fast so it would be over with already. No, he wanted every single second to count. He noticed that he now had some pep in his step as he got ready, humming to himself as he combed through his wet hair. His towel hung low on his hips after his shower waiting patiently to see if he would hear from you.
It became a bad habit for Bucky to spend his time after seeing you waiting by his phone for a text, a call … something. His face would light up with that crooked smile when your name finally appeared on his notifications, spending the next few hours responding until he managed to fall asleep with his phone in his hand.
He fell asleep and woke up thinking about you.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed — your call lighting up the screen. He didn’t even let it ring twice before picking up.
“Morning,” Bucky muttered as he placed it to his ear, trying to suppress the smile on his features. He rubbed his eyelids, trying to get the last of the sleep out of his system.
“Morning,” you mumbled back, a soft whine in your voice.
You had just woken up, sitting in bed with your back against the headboard, the sheets pooling around your waist as you rubbed your face softly - not realizing you were mimicking Bucky’s movements on the other end of the line.
He could picture you sitting there alone and he wondered if you were as sleepy as you sounded. Warm from the heat your body collected through the sheets. He wondered what it was like to wake up next to you.
“Still asleep?” he teased. “I thought you were a morning person.”
“You kept me up way past my bedtime, Barnes.”
Bucky chuckled and it echoed through your phone, even as you finally stood and stretched your arm over your head, trying hard to suppress the groans and yawns from slipping out as you do.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I got you back to your place by a reasonable 10:30pm.”
“I still stand by my statement.”
“Of course you do,” he teased, shaking his head.
Bucky placed the phone on the bathroom counter, hitting the speaker button on the screen. Needing to get ready, but wanting to hear your voice.
“Have anything exciting planned for us today?”
“Actually,” you say, chewing on your bottom lip. “There’s an exhibit that I wanted to check out. I know you only have a few more days in town, so if that sounds too boring, maybe we can meet up after instead?”
As if he would actually say no.
He takes his time responding to you, not wanting his response to seem rushed or too enthusiastic. He was still trying to play it cool.
“No, I'd like to come along. What’s the exhibit about?”
“I'm not entirely sure. One of my friends went last week, said that it brought her to tears. That it was better that I went in not knowing the details.”
“Sounds very mysterious.”
“Can’t be worse than that broom closet you brought me to,” you say.
Your hand grips the phone tightly as you make your way into the kitchen, your footsteps soft against the wood floor. You take a moment to grab Alpine’s food from the shelf, knowing that you were only minutes away from her finding you and audibly complaining.
“Hey,” he says, his voice stern to defend himself. “That was fun.”
“I never said it wasn’t.” There’s a moment of silence.
Bucky rolls his eyes even if you can’t see them, his free hand moving to grab his deodorant.
“I'm going to finish getting ready, send me the address and I'll meet you there.”
You mumble out a quick sounds good before hanging up. There was no need for goodbyes, simply knowing that you would be seeing each other soon was enough to hold you over until then.
The streets of the city were loud and bustling on the warm Saturday morning, it was early spring and most people are indulging themselves in the nice weather – yourself and Bucky included. You had met him on the corner a few blocks over from where the museum was.
Despite how warm the weather was, he dressed in jeans and a dark long sleeve shirt, and a black baseball cap. An interesting choice for the temperature.
“If I’d known any better I’d say you’re a glutton for punishment,” you say to him as the two of you walked side by side.
“How come?"
"Long sleeve shirt and jeans on a day like today? It has to be one of the hottest days of the year so far."
Bucky is all too aware of the sweat forming on the back of his neck, and while he doesn't appreciate the reminder of the heat — he'd rather not have the entire museum distracted by the large man with the glaring metal arm. He wanted to play it cool … or as cool as it could get.
"Museum's get cold," he simply states instead, shrugging his shoulders in hopes the conversation will just fade away.
Luckily for Bucky, you approached the steps of the museum and drop the conversation entirely as you entered the building. As you walked through the doors you were greeted with a lobby filled with people.
The museum was older than he had expected it to be, the marble pillars gave it an old world charm while the tall painted ceiling made even Bucky feel small. You take a moment to appreciate the view, your head tilting up to get a full view of the various colors and shapes.
Bucky's gaze moves to the side of your face as he watches you take in the sight, while he enjoys his own. The slope of your nose, the roundness of your cheeks — here you were this stranger that he's gotten to grow fond of, and all he had was three days left to enjoy it. Even if it took everything inside of him, he was going to enjoy it.
Bucky opens his mouth to say something, but is quickly distracted by a sign in the corner of the lobby, doing a double take when he reads the words.
FEATURED EXHIBIT: WORLD WAR II AND ITS HEROES
His heart dropped to his stomach when he realized what this meant, that there would definitely be a section of the exhibit dedicated to Steve, and in turn Bucky himself. What was World War II without Captain America?
He couldn't do this. He had purposely tried to keep his identity under the radar from you, tried to keep you from knowing the horrors that he had committed. While he was aware that all it would take was a quickly search of his name to figure out who he really was, he wasn't ready to let go of the idea that it was still a mystery. So, he tried quickly to think of an excuse why he couldn't go inside: feeling sick, forgot to turn the shower off at his hotel, literally anything.
Finally, Bucky turns his attention back to you, but to his dismay you've already made your way towards the hallway entrance calling out his name to follow. Maybe it's the way you moved, or the excited look on your face, because suddenly the excuses die in the back of his throat, and his feet are carrying him to you.
This should be interesting, he thinks to himself.
The exhibit itself is well crafted, handling dark topics with the grace they deserve — but Bucky already knew all of this information, because he lived it. He tried not to remember the sounds of grenades exploding and the screams of his fellow service members. He tried not to flash back to being captured, unaware that Steve would ever come to save him, the fear he had in his body while they poked and prodded him.
But those were just the beginning of the haunting soundtrack of the life. The one that, despite it all, led him here to you in this moment.
Bucky loses you at one point while he's distracted reading about nurses on the battlefield, a photo of a woman he remembers — Lucille — proudly displayed helping a man on a gurney, bleeding from his head. So many faces, so many names, all gone.
He weaves his way through the crowd and down the long corridors, stopping when he finds you right in the place he didn't want you to be. Standing above you is a large image of Captain America surrounded by his unit, the Howling Commandos, and to his right is a face you've seen before — the face that you've spent the last week and a half with, and is now standing right next to you.
When you had first met Bucky that night in the bar, you felt like you couldn't place him — like you had seen him before. Now, you understood why. You'd seen his face on news stories, in history books, on internet forums trying to guess the identity of The Winter Soldier.
Bucky wants to crawl out of his skin right then and there. He's not sure what you're thinking. Are you absolutely terrified of who he was? Were you sure how he was even still standing here to this day? His eyes never leave the side of your face watching as you bite down on your bottom lip in thought.
Here he was, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.
"You never mentioned you were friends with Steve Rogers," you say.
The words are simple and not exactly how Bucky was expecting you to react to this news.
A breathy laugh leaves his lips as he brings his hand up to run through his hair, taking another step forward until he's standing shoulder to shoulder with you. There's a split second where he realizes that this proximity between the two of you is overwhelming — like it's short circuiting his brain.
"It never came up," he responds back, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I told you I was a soldier, of sorts."
"You mean an Avenger."
"I'm not sure that's what I'd call it," he tries to deflect.
"Did you really kill all those people?"
Without hesitation, Bucky responds.
"Yes."
Your face turns towards him and his blue eyes meet yours immediately, like they were waiting for your gaze. It should be terrifying to be standing in front of a man who did bad things, who had a life you couldn't even begin to fathom and who obviously was ripped right from time itself. It should be, at least.
"Are you scared of me?" Bucky asks, quietly.
People shuffled around the two of you, but neither of you made a step to move from where you were standing. Steve Roger's over-sized figure looming over the two of you.
"No."
It's a quick and simple response, you offer up no other explanation.
"You should be."
"Because you did bad things."
"No, because I did very bad things."
"But you don't anymore."
"No," he shakes his head. "I don't anymore."
"So, tell me why I should be scared of you," you challenge.
If there was ever a time that Bucky Barnes was speechless — it would be right in this moment. Not because he couldn't answer your question, he had a million reasons why you should be scared of him, but because no one's ever asked him to list the reasons.
He opens his mouth to speak but promptly closes it again, his lips forming into a thin line as he fails to come up with a reasonable argument right then and there.
"I think we have another part of the exhibit to see," you say, changing the topic all together. Your hand vaguely gestures to the hallway that continued.
Bucky's lips curled into a smirk at how normal this felt. You found out that he was an ex-assassin working with Captain America and all you wanted to do was continue spending time with him. Incredible.
"Lead the way," he mumbles, motioning for you to go first.
There isn't too much left of the exhibit to see, but Bucky now fills the silence with stories from the war. Not all bad, some include stories of the drinks he's shared with friends even in the midst of war zones, or the days leading up to his enlistment. He skips over the train and his fall, flexing his metal hand when the memory pops into his mind.
You're absorbed with all of this new knowledge, taking in every single piece that he's willing to share with you. Maybe it'd be a lot for some to learn that the man standing next to you was well over 100 years old, but you didn't even bat an eyelash.
Was it because he had the physical body of someone much younger? Or because he never felt a step out of place? Either way, you didn't question it, if anything it made your interest in Bucky grow.
A few hours later, once you were done with the museum and back at your place, did it feel suddenly real that Bucky was leaving in a few days. His large figure was overwhelming compared to the small sofa in your living room he was sitting on — knees pressed close to his chest. As stark as the contrast was, he fit perfectly in your apartment, as if he was the missing piece.
You tried to shake your head from the thought as you grabbed two beers from the fridge, you barely knew the man and you were already slotting him into your life. A week's worth of time together didn't change anything … did it?
"Thanks," he says, grabbing the cold bottle from your hand once you rejoin him.
Your body sinks down on the couch next to him, there's not a lot of space between the two of you. Despite the layers of clothing separating your skin, you can feel the heat of Bucky's thigh pressed against yours. You wonder if his skin is as callous as it is on his hands, thinking back to the night he walked up behind you and pressed his fingers against yours — dragging them softly ...
Bucky says your name and snaps you back into reality, realizing he had already been talking and you've only picked up the tail end of what he's said.
"Sorry, repeat that?" you ask before taking a swig of your drink.
"I said that I have to leave on Tuesday," he repeats, his eyebrow raising. "Will I see you before then?"
"Is that who you go with when you leave?" Your question deflect his, curiosity getting the best of you in the moment. "Captain America?"
"Please don't call him that," Bucky grumbles. "But, yeah. Steve usually leads the missions, likes me to be there for reinforcement."
"You've been fighting for a while."
"Eighty years."
"Do you ever want to stop?"
Bucky sits back against the couch, his fingers fiddling with the arm rest softly trying not to show the look of discomfort on his face or let a sigh out of his mouth. Of course he's thought about stopping. He's dreamed of it, but it's not possible when this is all he's known.
"It's not that simple." He lifts the bottle to his lips again and takes a long swig, shaking his head after. "If I stop then people get hurt."
"But there are dozens of others. Capta — Steve, or that guy who dresses up like a spider in Queens. Does one person really make or break things?"
"You don't get it, it's not that simple."
You didn't mean to push or pry, and you could tell by the agitation in his voice that this was not something that Bucky wanted to discuss further.
So you dropped it.
Right as you were about to change the topic Bucky's phone buzzed in his pocket, halting the conversation. He gave you a tight smile as if to say sorry about that as he slid the phone out. You couldn't read the screen from where you were sitting but whoever it was made Bucky's eyebrows furrow, he hesitated to answer the call.
"Uh, just give me a second," he says to you apologetically before he stands from the couch. Bucky places his beer down on the side table before making his way into the hallway of your apartment, holding back a string of curses as he finally answers. "This better be important, Wilson," his hisses barely above a whisper.
"You know I only call if it is," Sam's booming voice came in on the other side of the line. "Cap wants us all on a red eye to Lagos in the next twenty minutes."
"You're full of shit," Bucky snaps. "I can't get on a flight now."
"Don't shoot the messenger. He's got a jet flying to the compound now to pick us up. Says it's an emergency, an uptick in some activity we've been tracking lately. If we don't act within the next two days there will be major issues."
Bucky rubs his forehead as he peaks out behind the wall to see you sitting on the couch, your hands in your lap as you look away from where Bucky is standing. If he was someone who wasn't as good at reading body language he would have sworn you weren't listening, but he knew all too well.
"He owes me," Bucky mutters. "Give me thirty."
The phone line ends with a beep, Bucky is left with his thoughts for a moment. Fucking Steve.
His feet are heavy as he makes his way back to you, a sinking feeling in his chest. When you heard him approach, you turn to face him again, but he doesn't have to speak for you to know what he's about to say.
"I have to … uh …"
He lifts his phone up and shakes it a bit, closing his eyes as he lets out a sigh.
"It's important."
There's no better excuse he can offer you than that, and even as it leaves his lips it sounds weak. His eyes open again and he shrugs his shoulders, unable to leave from his spot. You knew this would come eventually, maybe a few days earlier from what you had anticipated, but it had to come to an end.
"How long?"
"I'm not sure, I'll find out more when I'm briefed later."
You stand from the couch and cross the room until you're standing in front of him. His head is rolled back and he watches you carefully through hooded eyes, the urge to reach out and pull you into his arms is overwhelming.
He tried so hard to convince himself this was two strangers getting to know each other before time ran out.
Well, time was up.
And you two were definitely not strangers anymore.
He whispers your name and brings his hand up, but quickly stops himself from reaching out to you. No matter how badly he wanted it.
"Be safe," you say to him, nodding your head softly.
"I'll try."
Bucky swallows everything he wished he could have said before turning on his heels, just like he did that very first night you had met him.
"You better text me," you call out to him right as his hand grasped the doorknob.
"I will."
"You better."
Bucky turned and gave you one last smirk before pulling the door open and disappearing behind it, leaving you standing alone in the middle of your apartment. Neither of you were sure if this life was a cruel joke, or if the universe worked in mysterious ways.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#it ain't much but it's honest work
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⛥゚・。 boot
SECRET BONUS/prequel to pocus -- on halloween, you're invited to custard's annual bash. but in your attempt to sneak out in your sexy costume, you're caught by your darling husband... now you'll never make it to the party
cw: nsfw, fluff, comfort, horny katakuri, possessive katakuri lovesick katakuri, bratty-ish reader, katakuri is twenty-six, you are twenty-five, soda is at a sleepover at smoothie's, i had a ball writing this
a/n: link to the costume if you want it x

"And to think I was gonna be a fairy..." you grinned, cheekily, as you marveled at yourself in the mirror, switching poses every minute or so to examine all angles. "Brûlée's gonna freak."
Gingerly, you grabbed onto the low-cut, ruffled neckline of your dress, tugging it up ever so slightly before pulling the black corset along with it.
It was sagging dangerously low, a problem you would most likely have to deal with for the rest of the night.
A small price to pay for easily being the best dressed at the event.
In light of Custard's annual Halloween party—rager, if one wanted to be more politically correct—you had spent the last two months making your costume completely from scratch, sewing and embroidering like your life depended on it in order to create the perfect outfit.
And the perfect outfit you did create, as clearly evidenced by the stunning dress in the mirror—and your blinding smile.
What you had created was an effortlessly sexy Little Red Riding Hood costume, complete with a black corset top, a red and white, short, frilled dress, and a signature, crimson hood, which was only enhanced by a pair of white knee socks and black Mary Jane heels.
Not to mention your flawless makeup, and freshly done hair, which accentuated your large, (e/c) eyes and perfectly framed your face.
You looked drop-dead gorgeous, and, quite literally, ripe for the chasing—the effect you were rightly going for.
Now the only task was to get it past Katakuri.
At the reminder, you huffed, lip jutting in a pout as your hands fell to your sides.
You adored your husband with all your heart, and would never ever speak poorly behind his back...
But my God, was he a horndog.
The man might seem stoic and put together everywhere else, but with you, it was as if he couldn't contain himself.
It was almost scary how much he loved you, how little he cared so long as he got to feel you.
Hell, the amount of times the two of you had snuck off during or showed up late to an event because of his "drive" was staggering.
You were honestly surprised you didn't have a truckload of children by now.
But he didn't seem care.
The only things floating around in his universe were his family, his son, and you.
Nothing more, nothing less.
And now you'd have to deceive him by employing your foolproof plan:
Run.
Sneakily—but hastily— you exited your shared room, making a point to tip-toe over to the top of the stairs where you could peek and see where he was.
And, lo and behold, there he sat on the couch, peacefully dozing with his hands folded over his stomach, having come back from a long day of patrolling the outer edges of Mama's territory.
'Perfect.'
Taking a deep breath, you readied yourself, gripping tightly onto your fake picnic basket as your neared the edge of the steps, before finally making a beeline for the door.
With impressive precision, you were able to keep your heels from clacking against the marble, while also keeping a rather quick pace.
You flew down the twenty-eight stairs with ease, hitting the floor of the foyer with a silent click before hastily shuffling toward the door.
Your eyes brightened, hope seeming just within reach, as this was the farthest you'd ever made it with this plan.
Quietly, you extended your arm, just about to grab the handle when—
"Darling," a rather familiar voice piped up, startling you to a halt.
That was your scolding nickname.
You let out a shocked squeak, freezing in place just centimeters away from the cool metal of the doorknob.
'Dang it!'
The perks of having a husband who can see the future.
From Katakuri's spot on the couch, he watched you, one eye peeked open as he remained comfortable in his position, hands still folded over his stomach and head still resting against the couch-back.
In actuality, he had figured out your poorly executed plan about five minutes before you made it to the stairs, and simply waited to see what you would do—he found your antics quite entertaining, and inherently adorable.
Yet, despite that, you weren't going to go down without a fight.
You were making it to that damn party.
Masking your defeat, you turned to your loving husband with an innocent smile, loosely grasping your basket.
"Yes, my love?" you replied quickly, in a sugary sweet tone.
"Where are you going in such a rush?" he asked, faintly taunting.
You hesitated a moment, unsure of what to say.
"...Out?"
Internally, you facepalmed, embarrassed that you had managed to turn your statement into a question.
'Nice going, (y/n)!'
"Mhmm," he nodded, glancing up at the ceiling. "Out being Custard's party?"
You hesitated again, hoping to come up with a better answer this time.
"...Maybe?"
Internally, you groaned, completely frustrated with your horrible lying skills.
'Do you even want to go?!'
Nodding once again, he let out a quiet hum, seemingly letting you off the hook.
Confused, you paused a moment, waiting for some sort of catch.
But it never came—he simply continued staring at the ceiling.
Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, you took the opportunity, quickly grabbing onto the doorknob and twisting it.
But just as you were about to swing the door open, a large mochi arm wrapped tightly around your waist, instantly yanking you back toward the couch and into his lap.
"Kuri, no!" you whined, fruitlessly attempting to squirm out of his grip as he held you in place with a single, corded arm. "I've been waiting months to go to this party!"
"You're not missing anything," he assured, grabbing your neck and pulling you in for a kiss.
"No, Kuri, my lips!" you quickly swerved. "They took thirty minutes to apply!"
"Do them again," he shrugged off, not caring in the least as his one hand grabbed your face by the cheeks, turning you to face him.
"No kisses," you denied, firmly, placing a hand over his mouth to stop him. "You let me go, and when I get back, I'll give you as many as you want."
Surprised, his eyes slightly widened, taken aback by your sharp tone.
Did you... just tell him what to do?
"But until then, n—"
Suddenly, in one fluid motion, your skirt was flipped up, a rather calloused hand dealing a firm blow to your bare asscheek, silencing you instantly.
Utterly shocked, you let out a sharp gasp, eyes wide as you lurched slightly forward in his lap.
'Did he just... spank me?'
"Katakuri!"
"You think you can tell me when to kiss my wife?" he arched a brow, voice deadly clear.
"I am your wife!" you stated, incredulously.
"Last I checked, my wife didn't have this much mouth on her," he countered, fighting the smirk in his voice.
Disbelieving, you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Then you must've been absent for the last five years of our marriage."
SMACK!
"Hey!"
SMACK!
"Will you cut that—!"
SMACK!
"Katakuri!"
SMACK!
"I can do this all night, sweetheart."
As much as your ass was stinging from the impact of your husband's hand, you couldn't help but get wetter with each smack.
That familiar knot of need had already begun to coil in your stomach, pulling ever so tightly.
You were so flushed, and it wasn't long before your hand began to slowly drift between your legs.
"No."
Katakuri's harsh command stopped you a second before you made contact.
You let out a whimper of protest, but he remained unrelenting, effortlessly lifting you off his lap and plopping you down over-top his shoe.
He didn't let go of your face as he nudged his boot between your legs.
He ground the tip against your most sensitive spot, drawing out a muffled yelp.
Desperate for friction, you didn't think, and simply did as he silently asked, straddling his shoe.
You spread your legs wider, the beautiful pressure and rub of leather against silk and tender, sensitive flesh made you ache all over.
Your moans built in intensity as you picked up speed, grinding shamelessly against his shoe while he held your face in place, forcing you to stare up at him.
"Look at my beautiful girl... a mess all for me... only me..."
The bumps and ridges of the studs scraped against your swollen clit and sent sharp lightning bolts of pleasure through your body.
It hadn't even been a full five minutes since all this started and you were already soaking the floor, like this was the first time you'd ever felt pleasure in your life.
Still, it wasn't enough.
You wanted, needed more friction, and you held on to his thigh to steady yourself as you ground harder.
"Where's all that mouth from earlier? You so much to say before..."
Your mind went fuzzy, your hips jerking, you movements frantic as the need built and built and—
The pressure inside you exploded before you could even grasp the feeling.
You let out a strangled cry of pleasure as you threw your head toward the ceiling, glassy, sparkling eyes meeting your husbands—whose were blown completely wide with lust, having just witnessed the hottest thing he'd ever seen.
Shudder after shudder racked your body while you rode out your high mindlessly.
Everything was so warm and slick and nice, you had almost completely forgotten about the costume party.
And when Katakuri's fingers carefully released your face, you slumped against his leg, too exhausted to stand.
Strong hands unwound your arms from his leg as he picked you up, moving to set you down on the kitchen island before starting the task of cleaning you up.
After he finished, he straightened your dress, his eyes gleaming with amusement and lingering desire.
"If you wanna make that party, then now's your chance," he drawled, his voice husky.
You rolled your eyes, the action practically audible as you wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, the though of your lips not even crossing your mind.
You'd ruined your dress, underwear, and makeup—as well as his shoe—and you didn't have the slightest clue as to how you were going to attend that party without people knowing exactly what you'd been up to.
But if you were being honest... you didn't care.
You were too sated and content, too wrapped up in the bliss of being so deeply admired, so deeply desired.
You'd apologize to Custard tomorrow.. but for now?
You were gonna try not to get eaten alive.

#zorosangell#one piece#one piece x reader#op#op x reader#charlotte katakuri x reader#katakuri#katakuri x reader#charlotte
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top 5 female characters?
did another round of "spelunking in my ask box for things I never got around to answering" and found this one and like. I know why I didn't do this one (probably I got overwhelmed) but it's time now
choosing one per fandom because that makes it a little easier. partly because I could easily populate this list solely from wheel of time.
1. Tuon Athaem Kore Paendrag. She did nothing wrong! Other than all the imperialism and slavery and associated atrocities, besides that she's innocent. Look, I just love her, have loved her from my first read, and only love her more with every reread. She's got a deeply fucked up view of the world, a bone-deep need for control, a deep confidence in her own rightness that I can't wait to see shattered (and never will on page but I can think about it). What a gem.
2. Natasha Romanov. Okay I'm cheating a little on this because the next character on this list is from comics and Natasha could come from either comics or the MCU, but I'll go with her MCU incarnation since that was the first one I fell in love with (and what really got me reading comics). She's so important to me. I love a lady with a dark past as a human weapon who still kind of thinks of herself that way and is figuring out how to be a normal human person in the world. I just love her so much and I've been thinking about her a lot lately. Maybe I should get back to my pre-canon MCU Natasha fic.
3. Laura Kinney. Speaking of characters who have a dark past as a human weapon who still kind of think of themselves that way and are figuring out how to be a normal human person in the world! I mean, Laura is much further along in that journey in present comics timeline than she was when I started reading her books (with Marjorie Liu's run, thank you Marjorie Liu) but...that's so foundational to her character, still, and informs so much about how she interacts with the world. I love it, and her.
4. Minthara Baenre. A new one on this list but I've gotten deeply attached. I don't think I can kill her in any playthrough tbh except for the one where I accidentally did because I didn't realize that she could be a companion. I've romanced her twice and it's a struggle not to do it again. She's just such a particular character of a type I feel like I don't run across very often in a female character - she's ruthless, her morals run directly counter to so much of conventional morality, she's very much a paladin but not the sense that one would usually think of a paladin. She's vicious and a little bloodthirsty and "dangerous, cunning, wounded, brutal, paranoid...and utterly loyal to those she trusts." I came into this game expecting to be an Astarion girl and came out of it a Minthara girl. No regrets.
5. Clytemnestra. I keep picking up retellings with Clytemnestra in the eternal hope that they'll give me a Clytemnestra to satisfy me but honestly the Clytemnestra of Aeschylus's Oresteia remains my gold standard. Love a woman on a vengeance quest and I love even more the ways that she, in Agamemnon specifically, adopts a whole bunch of trappings of masculinity in order to justify herself and claim power for herself. Aegisthus who, this is the Clytemnestra show. I think I also find it very compelling how much she is a Mother but rather than making her a nurturing figure that is what drives her violence.
but also like. Jaenelle Angelline my beloved. Aredhel my beloved. Azula my beloved. Morrigan Dragon Age my beloved. Ling Wen and Lucille Sharpe and Baru Cormorant. my weird love of Jeyne Westerling for some reason. others I am definitely forgetting. and so many more from the canons above that I'm leaving out because of my self-imposed one per canon rule
#conversating#anonymous#if people want to send me top fives i'm not doing an official meme but i do like doing them#top five meme
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Moodboard for my fic ideas #1
Reader and Minho are both exchange students who struggle to fit in. Minho has a hard time with English, and reader is an introvert. They build a friendship and help each other out. Despite Minho’s parents wish to study abroad improving his English in hopes of getting into a top university one day, he secretly keeps practicing his one true passion - dancing. His biggest supporter? Reader.
"Do you ever dream of becoming like them?" I ask Minho, whose face was illuminated by the purple light of the BTS poster announcing their upcoming concert. He didn't even have to respond, i could see it in his eyes. This was his dream.
#stray kids#skz#lee know#he's super sweet and shy in this fic#but secretly he's super talented at dancing and reader doesn't even know how good he is until she runs into him at the dance studio#oh and reader takes him out to a korean restaurant when he says he misses korean food#basically she fell first but he fell harder type of thing#problem? i suck at writing i've been writing for years but do i improve? nah 0 faith in myself#it's not that he can't speak english it's more he lacks confidence and people tend to avoid him :( and same with reader so they bond cause#she wanna help out idk where reader is from if she's from the country he's exchanging in and what even is that country? obv it's not#realistic time wise with him being a trainee and bts and all that it's a fic okay#obv it could be reader x lee know if it's just a one shot or what it's called but for fic i would need to make an oc#no but seriously in the past i've written self indulgent stuff and original stuff and although i've improved on dialogue my thing is world#building and such#idk how to have character development or how to solve plot holes or make a plot even and solve issues#i'm very good at formulating what i wanna say in terms of talking about my struggles but fictional is surprisingly harder#fic ideas#my edit
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this is absolutely one hundred percent an otherside picnic blog now btw
#otherside picnic#what if we were two girls and we had the closest relationship in the world 😳😳#what if we were practical and thematical compliments to each other so that one could not work without the other#what if we went through unimaginable horrors and came out clutching onto each other as the last anchor in our world#WHAT IF I WAS TRAPPED IN INTERSTITIAL SPACE AND THE ONLY WAY I COULD GET BACK TO YOU WAS TO SEE THE EXTENT OF YOUR LOVE FOR ME#WHAT IF WERE LESBIANS DRIVING AN AP-1 HUH#what if our sanity was a toy we could play with like a cats cradle and you wove mine back up for me again#what if you accompanied me into fear itself and pulled me back out again#what if you picked out an outfit for me in the magoiya of all places and told me I looked cute in it#what if I was like ophelia in a field and you were a hand reaching down to me#what if the world itself was fraying at the seams and you held my hand and we stepped through#what then huh. what then.#what happens. what happens when we’re two girls in a world like no other and we’re accomplices#(the closest relationship in the world)#and we rely on each other and fight for each other and cry for each other#I have so many thoughts about otherside picnic#gay ass bitches#what if I was running from the things in my past and fell into a field through a door and you laughed and helped me up#what if we had a fight and i came running after you into death itself#what if we got drunk on a beach in the middle of the otherside and watched the ocean#what if. what if. what if.
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Wrap it up!!
Thank you Jewel Ham
#Spotify#Spotify Wrapped#Spotify Wrapped 2024#Sleep Token#The Crane Wives#The Score#Gorillaz#Private Island#The Magnus Archives#The Magnus Protocol#Malevolent#Malevolent Podcast#The Penumbra Podcast#Spire#Syntax#Spire Podcast#Well. Here again#I mean after June it was kinda no contest#Like I tried to get Gorillaz up there and I did but they should’ve been 2nd#But it's fineeeeeee bc the eepies are at the top. as they should be. 2 anonymous British bands at the top that's a win#I felt like I listened so freaking much and it was like way less than last year what was I doing last year pft#Well I had a month long thing to go to this summer so I guess there was that#WHERE WAS THE GENRE SECTION. I wanted to know.... it's funny I say I'm bad at categorizing my music taste and I am but I want this...#the past years I've been monitoring this (2020 to now) my genres have gone from 113 to 35 to 15 to 14 to idk#like the decline made no sense to me. maybe they mean like new ones but like. I felt like I explored. ESPECIALLY this year#I never listened to any metal/prog metal before ST but now I have#So glad Silent Running stayed up there. The rest being ST is so funny. They were the songs I got into first so I listened to them the most#If Atlantic @ Red Rocks 2024 was on there ough Atlantic would've probably made it top. Sleep Token release a live album I dare you#I'm happy with the year overall!! I listened to so many musics and fell in love with the medium all over again#See y'all next year!!
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You decide to sleep on the couch after an argument pt.2
pt1 here
pt3 here
love and deepspace
characters: Rafayel, Xavier
Rafayel
Stubborn, petty, and a total brat are the words that perfectly describe Rafayel during arguments. It doesn’t help that you’re as stubborn as he is, but most of the time you manage to find the middle ground. Except tonight. Tonight is the night you got fed up with his attitude and the argument it caused was just awful. For an hour, both of you argued something so stupid but he wasn’t backing down and at this point, it was getting so tiring you just wanted to put an end to this.
“You know what” You throw your hands in the air “I’m done. I’m going to sleep”
Rafayel scoffed muttering something about you running away from an argument under his breath. However, his face dropped when he saw you entering the living room with a pillow and a blanket. He rushed to you with such an offended look.
“Excuse me?”
“What?” You barked at him.
“Wha- seriously? what are you doing?”
“What does it look like?”
“Child’s tantrum, honestly”
You stopped making the bed on the couch and just looked at him unimpressed. The gesture made Rafayel scoff once again and retreat from you.
“You want to be petty? be my guest. I’m going to sleep in our room, in our bed”
With that, he left you and slammed his door on his way.
“Such a child” you mutter and lay down on the couch, too agitated to sleep, replaying the argument in your mind over and over. You both said horrible things to each other and you wanted to run to him and apologize, but what hurt more than an argument is how he left you here and he, himself, went to sleep. After hours of beating yourself up for tonight’s events, you finally fell asleep not knowing Rafayel was staring at the ceiling of the bedroom feeling just as guilty if not more. Also, he hates to admit it, but he cannot sleep without you, so with a defeated sigh he made a decision.
Sunlight stirs you awake in the morning. Your neck is sore from an uncomfortable position on the couch. With a groan, you turn around and open your eyes to be startled by a purple ball right into your face. Blinking, to adjust your eyesight you realise it’s Rafayel’s head. He’s sitting on the floor with his back leaning on the couch and a blanket around his shoulders.
“You have to be kidding me” you mutter with disbelief “Rafayel”
He groaned and rubbed his eyes as he opened them.
“Oh, hi”
You just look at him dumbfounded before bursting out laughing.
“Shut up, will you?” He grumbled.
“Oh my god, you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. Why didn’t you wake me up?”
He stayed silent and got up from the floor, with you following his suit.
“To what? to admit you were right? kind of… I mean you were wrong in some aspects… okay, fine you were right… and what else? to admit I couldn’t sleep without you?” He avoided your eyes and you couldn’t miss the blush spreading on his cheeks “Because I couldn’t… sleep without you, I mean”
You pinch his cheek before kissing him making his already red face even more red.
“I’m sorry too”
He quickly regained his composure walking past you.
“Yeah, yeah… c’mon let’s make breakfast”
And you follow him with a chuckle.
Xavier
You have to try really hard to have an argument with Xavier. Both of you are in perfect sync and hardly ever disagree with each other. Therefore, arguments are rare. But not nonexistent. Take tonight, for example. Xavier doesn’t need shouting and screaming to get his point through. His face devoid of any expression and cold voice make good enough job. You, on the other hand, feel like you’re on fire, and his calm nature, reassuring other times, only fuels your fire. Finally, you make the decision that you don’t want to spend any more time with him tonight… or until you calm down. So you take your blanket and set up a makeshift bed on the couch.
Xavier doesn’t pay you any mind. He didn’t even notice you reentering the living room as he started playing his video game to unwind from the previous argument. An hour passes, then another. At last, he’s had enough and turned off the video game you’ve been cursing in your mind past hour. He expects you to be asleep in your room so imagine his confusion when he sees you on the couch, still not asleep. Xavier then shrugs before going to the bedroom and coming back with his pajamas on.
“Move” he says when he walks up to you.
You turn to him.
“What?”
“Move, I’m sleepy”
“Then go to sleep”
“I’m trying to, but you won’t move” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. After a moment of hesitation, you move to make room for him. He silently slides under the blanket and since the couch is too small for both of you, he positions you in a way that you’re lying on top of him.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“I couldn’t sleep”
His hand started to caress the back of your head.
“Because you’re mad at me?”
“Because I’m mad at you”
A sigh escapes his lips.
“I didn’t mean… whatever I said. I don’t know, I don’t even remember what I said”
That made you giggle.
“Neither do I. But I’m sorry… for what I said”
“Yeah, me too”
You both stay silent after that. His hand stops caressing you after a while.
“We can go to bed if you want to”
You suggest but a soft snore Xavier releases lets you know that it won’t happen, so you just accept your fate.
#rafayel#lads xavier#rafayel love and deepspace#lnds rafayel#rafayel x reader#rafayel x mc#loveanddeepspace#xavier love and deepspace#xavier x reader#xavier x mc#rafayel fluff#xavier fluff#lnds
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IF I WAS A RICH GIRL PT.2 ♡
pairing: bodyguard!jason todd x fem!reader x bodyguard!dick grayson
summary: you, jason, and dick have grown closer in the time since their little competition. now that dick has been officially added to your case, new feelings crop up, and the three of you try to figure out what the next month together will really mean.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, oral sex (all receiving), fingering, threesome, nightmare, mentions of past trauma + violence, daddy issues
wc: 11.1k
a/n: hii everyone. sorry this took me so long. i'm still not sure how i feel about it, but i'm happy to finally have it out. bear with me because this chapter is leading into the rest of the story, and this will be my first multi-chapter fic. as of now, i have seven parts outlined. all that i ask is that you guys not pressure me between chapters cause that makes me feel really burnt out lol. they'll be out when they're out i promise. anyways reblogs + comments always appreciated <3
part 1
Just as he had one week ago, Dick currently stood in the small elevator cabin watching the numbers above the door light up from left to right. With his car keys in one hand and a bag of takeout in the other, he waited for the now-familiar chime of arrival to ding.
It came only moments later. This trip felt much shorter than the first. He wasn’t buzzing with anticipation or running scenarios through his mind to prepare for what lie ahead. This time around, he knew what waited for him inside the apartment, and it wasn’t anything that caused him anxiety.
The sleek exit parted and allowed him into the penthouse. His keys jingled as he walked through the entrance hall to the double doors at the end. They were open now. From the living room, he could hear some grunting, Jason, and some laughter, you.
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. You two had been going at it when he woke up this morning, and after he joined in, for a couple hours more. He couldn’t even really be irritated that you were still doing it while he was gone. Instead, he just wondered about what kind of super stamina the both of you possessed that made it possible to be rubbing up against each other all this time later.
Though, it wasn’t like this came as a surprise to him. Since the morning of the little competition last weekend, you and Jason fucked like you used to fight. All the time you spent glaring at him and stamping your feet, now found you with your eyes rolled back as you bounced on his cock. Your pouty huffs morphed into giggly smiles and pitchy moans. And Jason’s tense demeanor had melted into the more casual one Dick was familiar with.
This seemed like the best case scenario. Compared to other jobs, this one came closer to being a vacation. Presented with this situation out of context, it would honestly have seemed more like a fever dream to Dick than anything that could have been real. Sharing a girl with Jason wasn’t something he ever really planned on, but it just kind of fell into place here. There weren’t any rules or schedules. The three of you just took it moment by moment, and so far, that worked.
He had no complaints. He still got plenty of time with you too, and he no longer had to play mediator 24/7. It was a bit amusing, how simple the solution to all Jason’s strife really turned out to be. If only he had started with this, maybe he could have saved himself that first week’s worth of headaches.
Dick entered the living room, expecting to catch you bent over the back of the sofa or spread out across the dining table, but he saw no such thing. In fact, he didn’t see you or Jason at all. He almost paused. A quick bolt of worry shot through him. Realistically, he knew the two of you were fine. Jason was more than capable, and he heard your laughter. But after years of protection orders, he still hadn’t found a way to suppress that instinct to find something wrong.
It was only seconds later he spotted you over on the other side of the room beyond the end of the couch. Your head popped up and down into his line of sight. Relief coursed through him in a rush. Crossing the wooden floor, he walked a few paces closer to see what was happening.
And he did find you on top of Jason, just not in the way he anticipated. Instead, you were parked on the younger man’s back while his body rose and fell in a set of push-ups. A grunt slipped from his lips with every flex of his biceps. From behind, you played with his hair. He’d been going at this a while if the sweat trickling down his temple and staining the collar of his t-shirt were any indicators.
“Hey, you two. Whenever you feel like getting off the floor, I brought your food,” Dick said, raising the plastic bag and giving it a light shake.
Your head zipped in his direction, eyes sparkling impossibly brighter at the mention of your dinner’s arrival. You hopped up off the muscular back supporting you. Despite wearing a cute, pink workout set, not a drop of sweat coated your skin.
Jason, meanwhile, rolled over with a quiet groan. He ran a hand over his face to wipe some of the perspiration away. “Be there in a second.”
You pranced up to Dick and wrapped him an excited hug. After nuzzling into his chest for a second, you tilted your head upwards.
“Did you get the extra rangoons?” you asked, batting your lashes at him as if there was any way he could have forgotten your special request that you’d repeated at least ten times before he left.
“Of course. Think I would’ve left the car keys behind before driving away without your rangoons,” he teased.
With a small cheer, you swiped the bag from his hand and headed in the direction of the kitchen to deal out the food.
“Wow, not even a thank you?” Dick called after you while trailing behind.
“Thank you, Dick!” you chirped.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, coming up beside you at the marble countertop. Red containers appeared one by one across the sleek surface as you unloaded them from the bag. Leaning in, he planted a gentle kiss on your cheekbone. “Bodyguards, workout partners, takeout delivery, and now teaching you manners? You got us working a tall order here, babe,” he murmured.
“I didn’t ask for all that. I think you guys just like doing extra stuff for me cause you know I make it worth your while,” you shrugged with a little smirk on your face as you placed the last box of noodles on the island.
Your haughty display was fast interrupted though as two thick arms snuck around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You squealed as Jason twisted around and placed you out of the way of the meals.
“Did I hear you say you don’t ask for any of that stuff? What were you doing earlier then?” he mocked as he stepped up to the counter and popped open a small container.
“Hey!” you pouted, trying to shove him over so you could have access to all the food again. Your feet slid on the smooth floor as you floundered against him. It took Jason literally no effort to resist your pushing. His large frame did the job all on its own. “I didn’t ask you for anything. You just wanted me on top of you.”
“Mhm, sure. I must have imagined every time you said ‘Jason, what are you doing?’ ‘Jason, I’m bored,’ ‘Jason, let me help,’” Jason imitated before shoveling a forkful of garlic-glazed beef into his mouth
You huffed and circled around to the other side of the counter to grab your bag of rangoons. “Whatever. I still didn’t ask you for anything,” you grumbled.
“Did you really need to when you took the initiative and just climbed on my back?” he mocked.
You scoffed, but both of them could see hints of a smile pulling at your lips. Since you’d become closer to them, winning or losing a minor argument didn’t have an effect on your mood. It was the mere attention that got you going.
In the midst of your back and forth, Dick grabbed the now-empty takeout bag. The plastic crinkled as he crumpled it between his hands on the way to the trash.
Jason glanced over at him. “How’d the meeting go?” he asked, playfulness fading from his expression as work became the topic of conversation.
“Good,” he nodded, reaching for a small box of his own, “We’re all set. We’ll both be assigned here for the remaining four weeks.”
“You managed to convince the old man she needs two people on babysitting duty? How’d you pull that off?” Jason asked with a raised brow.
“You’ll really both get to stay here?” you asked from your side of the island. Your eyes gleamed with hope rather than excitement, as if you still couldn’t believe it was true.
Dick answered you first with another nod before responding to Jason. “I just explained that given her eventful social life and… willful temperament, it would be more convenient on our end to have two people on her case.”
“And he believed you? He didn’t get suspicious?” you checked.
“I think he bought it. He really didn’t ask anything that gave the impression he thought something was off,” he reassured.
To his relief, you, like your father, didn’t question his vague statements either. If you did, he’d have to figure out how to dance around the exact details of the conversation. He wasn’t really eager to rehash how your own flesh and blood spoke about you.
He thought before arriving at the Senator elect’s office that this would be an uphill battle. Those who didn’t want to use the word controlling would describe your father as protective, but no one would call the man stupid. He knew the reality of this situation just as well as Dick and Jason. There was no party in this arrangement who believed you were in real danger. So why on Earth would he agree that you needed two full-time guards when the one you already had barely did enough to justify his presence?
But the silver-haired man greeted Dick with an election-winning smile and firm handshake. He nodded along to each piece of what he said about you, as if he was absorbing every word like it was law. And when Dick reached the part about your aforementioned attitude and packed schedule, it went off without a hitch.
He eased into it, starting tentatively and bracing for pushback. “She’s adjusting now. Her and my partner are getting along, and we haven’t had any other issues since those first couple days, which is normal. Everyone takes a bit to get used to a second shadow,” he said in an attempt to keep things light. “I was only thinking she might benefit from having a detail of two since she has a few events to attend over the next few weeks and she can be… very set in her ways.”
Your father chuckled while leaning back in his leather chair. “Oh, you don’t have to sugarcoat it. I know how she can be. I love my daughter, but there’s a reason she doesn’t live with me anymore.”
Dick blinked in response at first. Logic would point to the fact that you were an adult aged into her twenties as a potential reason you might live alone. However, he figured that defending you would have aroused suspicion, so he kept his mouth shut, smirking and nodding in agreement.
“Yeah, uh… she’s something else.”
Your father nodded with a knowing laugh. “She knows how to bitch and moan till she gets exactly what she wants better than just about anyone. Think she learned it from her mother,” he sighed in a way that almost sounded fond. “You’re the expert, so if you think you need two guys to deal with her, have at it. You won’t hear any complaints out of me.”
Two guys to deal with her. Have at it.
If only he knew.
You pulled him out of the recollection with a bright smile. “Oh my gosh, this is great!” you cheered. “This is like the nicest thing he’s ever done for me. Not that he knows it. If he did, he probably woulda said no.”
Jason moved on too, going right along with your happy mood. “Great, huh? This the same girl who was doing everything she could to get me out of here just last week?”
“Yes. You’re the one who’s different. You’re someone I actually like having around now. Kinda,” you responded with a coy eyes.
For whatever reason, Dick just couldn’t share the same playful attitude. This was probably the one time in their lives that Jason had him beat on the front of being pleasant. He couldn’t pin down the exact cause, but seeing you now, with your sweet little smiles and muffled laughs after hearing someone who was supposed to protect you paint you as nothing more than an airhead, dug a dent of sadness into his normal nonchalant temperament. He knew your father wasn’t winning any awards for his parenting. However, bearing witness to his casual dismissal struck deeper than he expected.
But you and Jason continued to banter back and forth without a care in the world, so he tried to appear lighthearted for the remainder of dinner.
The three of you talked and ate in the way that had become routine after only a week. Things weren’t tense and argumentative anymore. Now that frustrations had been dealt with, it was easy to riff with one another about music you liked or movies you hated. They’d tell you the occasional story about an old case while you divulged past drama.
After the supply of food across the counter began to dwindle, the three of you worked in tandem to clear away the trash and put away any leftovers. With their help, the surface was clear in no time. You leaned back against the island, your palms flat on the smooth surface with your shoulders angled outwards.
“So…” you started, mischief swirling in your eyes as you looked between them. “What do you guys wanna do now?”
It was no secret what you were after. Your stance gave the two of them a nice view of your cleavage in that tight workout top. And how you looked between them through your lashes left no question about what kind of activities you were hoping would come next.
Jason shook his head. His face held a similar sense of trouble, only it lacked the lustful charge that motivated your own. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m gonna take a quick shower before anything else,” he said, already stepping in the direction of the stairs.
A scoff came from your lips. “What? No fun,” you said and started after him. “At least let us join…”
You reached out to touch his bicep, but Jason’s larger hand grabbed your wrist, preventing you.
“Your shower’s big but not enough for three people,” he said. “Plus, you got a bad case of wandering hands, princess. I want a quick shower. If I let you come with me, we’ll be in there till we’re both waterlogged .”
“But-” you started, your voice already getting a tad whiny.
He clicked his tongue at you, hushing you like an owner would do to their pet’s whines. “You’ve been with me all day. I’m sure Dick can take care of you for a little bit,” he said.
It was a gentle rebuff, but it was sincere. You tried one last attempt at pouting to no avail. He let go of your arm and headed off.
Your sad puffy lips tightened into a more resigned line. You were clearly intent on remaining unaffected. Only a beat passed before you turned and pranced over to Dick.
“He’s no fun,” you said as you snuck your arms around his waist for a hug.
You could be so touchy, but that wasn’t a problem for him. One of his arms slung across your shoulders while his other hand rubbed the curved space just above your ass.
“Sorry you have to stick with your second choice,” he said with a small pinch to your waist.
He meant it as a joke and nothing more. Even though you had been a bit clingier to Jason as of late, he felt no jealousy over it. It was understandable, chasing after the one who made a chase necessary. But if your face was any indication, the teasing nature of the words didn’t fully come across.
You tilted your head upwards, looking at him with a hint of real concern woven into your furrowed brows.
“You’re not my second choice,” you corrected. “I don’t have a favorite or anything. I like both you guys equally. I just know you’ll hang out with me if I want, so I don’t have to ask.”
Your arms curled around him tighter like a pair of hungry vipers. You put your head against his chest again, right over his heart. His hand continued its gentle motions on your back while he looked down at you. He was content to leave your explanation as it was, but he could feel the unsaid words prodding at you, almost nudging at him by extension.
“I was just joking, babe. Promise,” he said and planted a kiss on the top of your head.
You glanced up at him once more. “…I just don’t want you guys to like… feel like it’s a competition or anything. I like both of you a lot, and I don’t wanna mess this up.”
“You’re not messing anything up,” he reassured without thinking about it. You seemed oddly vulnerable about this, and after earlier, he didn’t want you to have any reason to feel insecure with them. He pressed you right up against him and squeezed your shoulder. “I was just making a stupid joke. If I had a real problem, I wouldn’t be holding you like this, alright?” He smiled a little to further his point.
“Alright…” you said, nodding against his chest.
He pecked your forehead as if to punctuate the words. “Good. No more worrying about anything like that. Let’s go find something to do while he’s showering. I’m sure when he’s done he’ll be sniffing around you again.”
You smiled back at that. Rising onto your tiptoes, you stole a quick kiss from him before dropping your hand to grab his and pull him in the direction of the stairs.
“Oh my goshhhh. He’s taking FOREVER in there,” you called out, saying the last bit loud enough so that it’d be audible through the bathroom door.
For someone who claimed they wanted a “quick” shower, Jason was taking his sweet time in your bathroom. At least by your standards anyways.
Your bedroom ended up being the place for you and Dick to hang out while waiting for the third member of your trio. You preferred it for obvious reasons, but clearly so did Jason since he chose to freshen up in the ensuite rather than the bathroom down the hall.
Dick didn’t mind it either. It was the largest of the three bedrooms. The windows had the best view, showing off how the nearby river twinkled under the sunset. And at night, anyone inside got a good look at the sparkling skyline. The bed was the softest and the biggest, but best of all, it was totally yours.
Objectively, the other two were comfortable, but in here, everything smelled like you. Every surface was your favorite color. He could almost imagine you picking out each fine detail. Stepping into this room felt like stepping into a little world of your creation.
His eyes drifted around it now. After the conversation with your father earlier, he could almost see it in a new light. Everything from the elegant curtains to your glamorous vanity in the corner said you didn’t pay for it on your own. He wondered if you had to “bitch and moan” to get it the way you wanted. Or maybe you picked things based on what you thought would be acceptable. Or perhaps because it was something that brought you joy, he wasn’t involved at all.
A little huff from you brought him out of his thoughts.
“What’s he doing in there? Shaving his legs?” you grumbled, sinking back into the mountain of plush pillows behind your head. You crossed your arms and kept your eyes on the TV ahead. It played a random episode of one of your favorite shows, just something meant to be background noise.
Dick chuckled at your persistent impatience and snuck an arm around your shoulders. “You know, I doubt letting him hear how riled up waiting makes you is going to convince him to go faster. As much as you’ve gotten him to soften up, he still likes to annoy you,” he teased.
He kept you tucked to his side, his fingers running up and down the smooth skin of your thigh. You had changed out of your tight workout clothes in favor of something looser to relax in. While not as form fitting, the tiny pajamas you chose left just as much of you exposed to his eyes. His digits danced with the hem of your shorts every time they brushed the silky fabric.
“I bet he’s jerking off in there,” you said suddenly, ignoring Dick’s statement completely. You glanced at him and then back at the bathroom door. Your eyes bore into the white wood like the mere possibility had insulted you personally.
He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think he’s wasting time with his hand when you’re out here,” he said.
“Maybe… Or he’s doing it just to spite me,” you said, feigned accusation still present in your words.
Dick’s gaze lingered on you even after you’d settled into reluctant patience again. You met his stare with a questioning look. “What?” you asked.
He blinked, batting those lashes across his pretty blue irises. “What?” he said back.
Narrowing your eyes, you poked his cheek. “You’re being weird. You’re all quiet and staring… It’s suspicious.”
“Maybe I was just looking at how cute you are right now, all puffed up cause you can’t be patient,” he grinned.
You rolled your eyes and leaned into him a bit more, as if he could provide relief from getting flustered. “Nuh uh. I look cute all the time, so that’s not it,” you said. “You just look like something’s bothering you.”
“Nothing’s bothering me. I’m fine,” he reassured you.
“Are you sure?” you asked, clearly not satisfied. Then it was as if two little wires connected in your head. “It’s nothing about earlier, is it? My dad didn’t tell you something stupid or embarrassing and scare you off, did he?”
He shook his head with a breathy husk of a laugh. “No, nothing like that,” he denied. With how close you were to hitting the mark, he could only wonder how long ago it happened before.
“Ok... just… You know you could tell me if something was wrong. Even if it wasn’t about work or whatever. I know we’re not like friends… and we haven’t known each other that long. But you could always talk to me about real stuff if you ever needed to,” you offered.
“I know that. But I swear, nothing’s up, alright? Do you ever have one of those days where you feel more stuck in your head than usual? I think it’s just one of those,” he said with a kind smile.
You nodded, willing yourself to accept the answer. “Jason must be having one of those too. He’s been gone for like forever and a half.”
“He probably just needs a moment of peace. You are pretty insatiable, and you’ve been all over him all day, climbing on his back and grabbing his arm,” he murmured with a couple playful squeezes to your own side and arm.
Your body twitched and squirmed in response to the little grabs. The sight drew a huffed laugh from him. He’d never met someone as responsive as you. Your body would light up from a few of the most simple touches.
“I’m not worse than you guys. You both are ready to go like all the time,” you said and slid your hand into his lap, trying to find a bulge.
“There’s a difference between being ready to go and being the one who instigates,” he said, grabbing your wrist and moving your hand onto his abs instead.
You didn’t resist the adjustment. Your fingers traced the rigid muscles in his stomach. You’d felt them so many times already, seen them just as much, but they still brought you a sense of wonder. Both of their bodies did. Before them, you had limited experience, and none of it took place with people who resembled divine beings so closely.
He chuckled at the look in your eyes. “You’re too easy, baby.”
Your cheeks heated up. You tried pulling your arm back to shove his head, but he kept it right where it was.
“It’s ok. You know Jay and I think it’s cute,” he said, continuing to gently mock.
He pecked your cheek, smugness found in his every feature. Leaning in closer, he laid a few soft kisses on your throat. Your breath hitched before you tilted your head to allow him more room. The near-instant compliance with his touch had him grinning against your neck. Even while being stubborn, you wouldn’t deny yourself any attention. And to be honest, he couldn’t see himself ever in a situation where he’d withhold it from you.
He took a deep breath, letting his lungs fill with your air. His arms tightened as his mouth parted and closed against your sensitive skin. The tip of his tongue swirled around your pulse point in the way he had come to learn you liked. Your hand pressed down on his abs a little harder just as a tiny moan escaped you.
In the same way that his body put you in awe, you cast a spell totally your own over him. Being so close felt like willfully submerging himself in aphrodisiacal quicksand. You were so soft and so warm under his hands, your flesh so malleable, practically hypnotizing to grope.
His palms glided over you with reverence. They moved slowly, but with enough pressure to exemplify his growing desire. You writhed under his hands as they smoothed from your back to your hips, over your ass and then down to your thighs.
You allowed your own hand to go lax on his torso, slowly bringing it further South. The place you’d searched for a bulge before rewarded you with one now. You could feel the semi-hard outline under your fingers.
He hissed at the lazy rubs you gave it through his pants. “Always so eager for more,” he mumbled.
While he was still very much wrapped up in the feeling of you, going further tempted him just as much. He dropped one of his hands to the elastic waistband of your shorts and shoved it underneath. His fingers ducked below your panties next with the same precision. The middle one slotted between your puffy lips, seeking out your clit.
Already, you’d started to get a little wet. Dick dragged the pad of his digit through the collecting slick, relishing the clicking sound that came with it. His finger then ventured back to your little bundle of nerves. He gave it a few rubs to which your hips jerked and a whine spilled out of you.
Then the bathroom door opened. Neither one of you had even heard the shower turn off while distracted with each other. Steam poured out into the bedroom. Along with it came Jason. He stepped out, baby pink towel low around his hips, stray beads of water trickling over his scars down to his v-line. His eyes immediately landed on the two of you.
“See? So needy before, but I knew you’d have fun with Dick just fine,” Jason said. He shook his hair like a wet dog before advancing further into your room.
“Shut up. You took too long,” you whimpered, rolling your hips into Dick’s hand.
“You think so? You should’ve said something. I could hear you complaining through the door, but I don’t think it got the point across all the way,” he mocked.
He headed over to the door leading back out into the hall, and suddenly, all traces of your attitude vanished. “Wha- Where are you going?” you asked, turning your head to give him puppy eyes. Dick took advantage of the new angle and attacked your neck with his mouth again.
“Where do you think?” he asked.
Of course, you knew where he was headed - down the walkway and into the guest room with his duffel bag. Most of Dick’s stuff had migrated to your bedroom, but Jason still kept his separate. It really didn’t matter to you though; here or there, you did not want him getting dressed either way.
“Nooooo,” you whined, reaching out towards him with one grabby hand. “Don’t put clothes on.”
He almost laughed at your little display. A smile settled on his lips, and he took a few steps back in the direction of the bed. His pupils scanned over your body again, taking in the way your back arched and your heels slid against the blankets. He watched the outline of Dick’s hand pump beneath your shorts.
“I don’t know… I think Dick’s got you covered, sweetheart. Doesn’t look like you need anyone else,” he taunted, running a hand over your head.
“Need you,” you said, whimpering as Dick rubbed a little star onto your clit. “Need both of you.”
“Greedy,” Jason tutted. But he didn’t stop petting your head.
“Nuh uh,” you denied. Your gaze fell down his body, specifically to his waist where that towel remained tucked around him. It would be so easy to reach out and just…
“No?” he said and cupped your jaw, directing your eyes back to his own. “You don’t think you’re acting spoiled?”
You shook your head before looking down at his stomach again. This time you couldn’t help yourself. You extended your arm, hooking your index and middle finger over the fluffy edge of the towel. It barely took any force to tug it free.
The plush fabric vanished, pooling around his feet. Now, at your eye level, his cock hung, thick and heavy. Your pupils all but morphed into little hearts while staring at it.
He didn’t stop you from grabbing the shaft. Your fingers curled around his length and gave it a gentle tug, beckoning him closer to the mattress. For once, he went along with your desire free of protest. He boosted himself up a bit with one knee on the foamy surface. You continued stroking in time with Dick’s fingers caressing your pussy.
His cock rose to life between your digits. It grew stiffer with every twist of your hand or swipe of your thumb over the tip. You watched in amazement as you did every time, and he watched you. Something deep inside of him went wild for that innocuous fascination that would come over your face in moments like these. Jason was well aware that you weren’t a saint by any means, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to corrupt you.
On the other side of your body, Dick’s head popped up from the crook of your neck, looking up at him with lidded eyes. “Would there even be a point in putting your clothes on when she’s gonna pull ‘em off as soon as you get back?” he joked.
You didn’t even register the little joke or how Jason responded because you were so laser focused on giving him a hand job. Your own movements nearly hypnotized you. With every flick of your wrist, desire gnawed at you, begging you to get more. To take more.
“Can I suck on it?” you asked abruptly.
Jason’s hand paused on your head. He looked down at you again, taking in your dilated pupils and parted lips.
“You want me in your mouth?” he checked.
You nodded.
“Do you think you deserve me in your mouth?” he asked next.
Exasperated, you whined. “Jasonnnnnnn. Come on.” You stuck your lip out to add to your plea.
“Alright, hush,” he said, sweeping his hand around to cup your jaw. “No whining. If you want it so bad, then open up.”
The rough pad of his thumb pressed down on your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth into a cute little o. His cock throbbed as you looked up at him so sweetly. Your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, and your lids drooped slightly under the weight of your lust.
He shifted his hips forward to guide his length to your awaiting orifice. You tried to reciprocate, leaning towards him as much as you could while still Dick’s grasp.
“Ah ah, lay your head back and let me give it to you. You’ll crane your neck otherwise,” he grunted.
Shockingly enough, you obeyed without issue. You sunk back in Dick’s direction, allowing the pillow behind you to support your head. Jason continued on. His tip nudged the seam of your lips. Droplets of precum smeared on the plump skin.
It took no force to push into the wet warmth of your mouth. Your saliva coated his length, making the shaft shimmer as it slid in and out of your mouth. He could feel your tongue lazily flicking and laving against him. It was cute. Such small efforts as you laid there for him to use.
Dick continued rubbing your clit beneath your shorts, but as Jason found his rhythm with shallow thrusts, he maneuvered his fingers around to prod at your entrance instead. The slender digits applied some light pressure before slipping inside. A mewl erupted from you around Jason’s cock, but your body didn’t protest or try to shut him out. You remained lax with the sensations, allowing him to fuck two between your pulsing walls with ease.
He kissed underneath your earlobe. “Such a good girl, sweetheart. Just relax for me. We’ll keep you all filled up,” he whispered.
You whimpered at the electricity his hushed voice sent down your spine. It was all so overwhelming in the best way. You were full of them in every sense of the matter. Not only were they inside you, but they claimed each of your senses as well. Dick’s lilted voice crooned in your ear while Jason’s scent clouded your nose. You got the taste of him all over your tongue as every nerve ending on your body lit up for them.
All of it made your head spin. Your eyes drooped, and your jaw got a little lazy. Before you knew it, Jason was squeezing your cheeks to grab your attention.
“Keep it nice and wide for me, little brat. Don’t want your teeth scraping me up,” he teased.
“Sorry…” you tried to say, but with a mouthful of cock, it just came out garbled and incoherent.
However, the need to apologize fled your mind fast. The creeping sensation of release replaced it. It started to simmer as Dick curled his fingers within you, finding that sweet spot you never reached on your own.
Your hips started to quake. You rocked up and down in a desperate search for release. They both chuckled as they saw it, knowing all your signs by now.
“Are you almost there, pretty girl?” Dick cooed.
“Mhm,” you whined around Jason.
“Yeah? You wanna cum?” he goaded, coaxing you further along.
“Mhm,” you said again; this time louder, more desperate.
His fingers kept thrusting into you. Wet squelches echoed from between your thighs as your peak got closer and closer. You could see it just in front of you, within reach, the sweet, shimmery heat already lapping at you. But just as your body got ready for the final ascent, Dick pulled his digits out.
You bursted with displeased whines and agitated whimpers. In a second, you backed off Jason’s cock so you could grab at Dick’s arm.
“Whyyyy?” you pouted, trying to glare at him. Though, with your eyes all glazed from pleasure, it didn’t come off as any kind of intimidating.
“What?” he laughed, bringing his fingers to his mouth. He slid them inside and sucked them clean while maintaining eye contact with you all the while. “You know you’re still gonna get to cum. You just make it too fun to tease you,” he said once he’d pulled them back out.
The explanation did little to quell your discontent, but before you could voice any of it, a hand wrapped around your ankle and tugged you downwards on the mattress.
Jason had walked around towards the foot of the bed in the midst of your distraction. He crawled over your legs towards the rest of your body, caressing up your calves as he went. His thumb hooked under the hem of your shirt to boost it up. As he moved, his head ducked down to lay some kisses along your belly.
“Have we left you unsatisfied so far, sweetheart?” he asked, gazing up at you through his lashes.
It was a leading question. Of course, the answer that came from your lips was a soft “no.”
“Exactly. So quit whining. You know Dick and I are gonna take care of you.”
His fingers looped over the waistband of your bottoms next. He yanked them off your legs. Tossing them to the side without a second thought. You watched his movements carefully, having a pretty good idea where he was headed. It just wasn’t something you were used to quite yet.
“Lemme return the favor for you, princess. While I’m doing that, you can do the same for Dick.”
“For what? Not letting me finish?” you huffed.
The fingers belonging to the man in questions landed on your forehead and nudged you back, putting your skull flat on the mattress. He smiled down at you stroking your cheek.
“No one can ever say you don’t know how to hold a grudge,” he teased.
A little scowl curled on your lips. At the same time, Jason got in position between your legs. You felt his hand cup one of your thighs then the other, placing each on either one of his shoulders.
There was really no time to brace yourself before he dove in. In seconds, that petty expression was gone, wiped clean by parted lips and furrowed brows. Your back curled inward, your body coiling in response to the sudden burst of stimulation down there. Dick watched. It was obvious from the look in his pretty blue eyes that he greatly enjoyed seeing the moment the pleasure took you.
“No, she wants people to think she can hold a grudge, but she’s not as tough as she lets on,” Jason taunted, sounding almost affectionate.
That was the last you heard out of him. Before you had the chance to go back and forth, his lips were on your pussy again. He flicked his tongue over your clit, back and forth, back and forth in quick succession. Your hips bucked while your legs flailed fruitlessly, but Jason was more than strong enough to keep you in place.
A broken whine trickled from your lips. Your heels dug into the firm muscles that spanned over his back. You figured he liked it. The harder you pressed, the more fervor he seemed to have with his mouth.
Beside you, Dick shimmied down his pants and pulled them free. His cock was hard, more than ready for some attention. He gave it a few tugs. Just simple jerks of his hand to the sight of you unraveling under Jason’s skillful ministrations.
As you squirmed, your head tilted in his direction. Your eyes fell on the veiny shaft before you. You remembered what Jason had said. To take care of Dick while he took care of you.
“You ready for me, baby?” he checked, voice hushed as he pet his free hand over your head.
You nodded and opened your mouth into the same shape you had before. He did the work for you just like Jason did. Angling his hips, he tapped his tip against the corner of your mouth before pushing it in. Like usual, he was more gentle than Jason. Despite it being the same action, he handled you with more care.
He got just as much pleasure though. A hearty groan came out of him as you started to suckle on the tip. Your eyes fluttered shut. Having something in your mouth gave your attention somewhere else to go. It acted as a distraction from the bursting bliss between your thighs.
You couldn’t see it, but Jason’s eyes flitted up to your face. He watched you take Dick’s cock while his tongue drew mini figure-eights from the bottom of your slit to your cute little bundle of nerves above. Something close to obsession danced at the center of his green irises. When you weren’t looking, he didn’t bother trying to hide it.
Little whimpers still squeaked from your mouth around Dick, but Jason wanted more. Tiny sounds he had to strain his ears to hear weren’t enough. He stopped licking at you, stopped grazing his tongue across your clit. Instead, he maneuvered the wet muscle lower. He prodded it at your opening and sunk it into you. That got a nice, low moan out of you.
He fucked his tongue in and out, pressing it against your silken walls as you pressed your own against the tender ridge of Dick’s cock. He was hissing too then. The three of you created a chorus of ecstasy, a neverending feedback loop of hissing and squirming.
Jason ground his hips against the mattress as you rolled yours towards his face. He was still holding you down, but your movements got him off. Seeing how desperate you could get, how eager you were to writhe into the pleasure, it had him leaking sticky white pre onto your pretty, pristine sheets.
You could feel that burning hot peak building up inside you again. Your toes curled, and your back started to arch. You knew Dick was getting close too from the way he was panting. That and how his hips were starting to jolt forward a little more frequently.
Jason pulled his tongue out of your slick hole and put his mouth on your clit again. He wrapped his lips around the tiny bud, giving it a harsh suck. You yelped around Dick’s cock. Your whole body jerked, and your head snapped back, his saliva-coated length falling from your mouth.
“J-Jay,” you whimpered. Your hand flew down to grab at his damp hair.
He didn’t answer with words, but the feeling of your digits against his scalp got a groan out of him. His tongue continued to dance over your soaked folds. With everything he had, he worked to bring you to the edge. His fingers dug into the plush of your thighs hard, almost bracing himself as he humped the blanket under him.
Gentle as ever, Dick guided your head back in his direction so he could slip his cock between your lips again. You accepted it happily, sucking it like you had been before being interrupted. Your lips rested right against the ridge. Every little vibration from your squeaks of pleasure reverberated through him.
Those small buzzes were enough to get him to the finish. Dick came first. He sighed and tilted his head back. His hand pressed on your head, keeping you close as his shaft twitched against your tongue. Warm spurts of cum bursted into your mouth, and you had no problem swallowing all that he gave.
In the midst of Dick’s release, you hit your high as well. Just as his was coming to end, you felt something snap inside of you. A loud whine bubbled up inside your chest and left your mouth as you slowly eased off. Waves of bliss coursed through you, your body rolling in trembling waves.
Your thighs squeezed around Jason’s head, and that was when he lost it.
He continued to devour you through it, not pulling away as euphoria surged through him. You cried out when overstimulation began to set in. Your hands weakly pushed at his head.
In a rare reversal, he listened to you. He pulled back from the junction of your thighs, departing with one final kiss to your clit. His jaw shimmered with remnants of your arousal.
You couldn’t help the way your eyes raked over him. Your small pupils drank in every detail. His tousled hair, his lidded eyes, his puffing chest, his softening cock between those thick thighs… But as your vision drifted down, your gaze landed on the mess he’d left on the plush fabric of one of your blankets.
Sitting up quickly, you grabbed it as if to inspect the sticky patch. “Jason,” you whined, accompanied by a glare.
He snatched it back. “Zip it,” he hushed as he climbed off the bed. “I’ll put it in the wash. It’ll be fine. And if not, I’m sure you can afford a new one.”
You narrowed your eyes at the tight-lipped, mocking smile he gave you. “I can, but I don’t want to. That one’s like the best.”
“Then I guess you’d just have to find better than the best,” he replied before stepping out of your bedroom.
A pouty huff came from your lips, but your eyes lingered on the door. You weren’t actually mad, of course. The wash would get the mess out, and even if it didn’t, what he said was true. You were more concerned with trying to figure out whether or not he was coming back.
On your other side, the mattress lifted with the absence of Dick’s weight. He rose from the bed and stretched his limbs out. Your head snapped in his direction, your hand reaching for his wrist.
“Where are you going?” you asked with a little pout.
He eyed you curiously. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to take a leak - if that’s alright with you.”
Your grip on him loosened as you realized you should probably reign these feelings back in. “I just was wondering like if you were coming back, or if you wanted to do something else.”
“Like?” he asked.
“I just didn’t… want you to feel pressured to like stay in here or anything. I know we all mess around and stuff, but you guys can still sleep in your own rooms if you ever want to,” you said.
His eyes narrowed. He leaned in a little, cupping your chin to direct your eye line. “Would you want us to sleep in the other rooms? Are you getting sick of sharing your bed?”
“No…”
“Do you think I want to sleep in the other room?” he asked.
That prompted a longer pause than the other two questions, but after a few seconds, you shook your head.
“Ok then. No need to worry about it. No one’s annoyed with you. If Jason or I wanted to sleep in the other rooms, we’d tell you that,” he said, leaning down to peck your lips.
With that, he walked off to the bathroom and nudged the door shut behind him. In their collective absence, you dragged yourself out of bed. You took the brief period of free time to put yourself back together and get the bed in order again.
Just as you finished putting your pillow into place, Jason strolled into the room. Without a care for all the organization you’d just done, he came over and flopped down onto your mattress. The blankets wrinkled to his shape, and the pillow you just placed toppled over. You pursed your lips in response before hopping up too and lightly slapping his bicep.
“That’s two times you’ve messed up my bed tonight,” you huffed.
His lips spread into a grin. In a flash, his arms looped around your waist as he playfully wrestled you down onto the mattress. You squirmed around, acting as if you were putting up a fight, but only a matter of seconds had gone by before he had you pinned.
Looking up at him now, you almost forgot the man you met on that first day. His green eyes appeared so much softer. His features seemed way more relaxed. He looked as unbothered as Dick sounded. Maybe you didn’t need to worry.
“We could mess it up again, you know. Maybe before Dick even comes back. I can be fast,” he teased, pecking your cheeks.
“Not fast enough,” Dick’s smooth voice cut in from behind.
That made you smile a little bit. The bathroom door clicked shut again, following it came the soft padding of his feet across the carpet. You brushed your fingertips across Jason’s cheekbone before nudging him off you.
He rolled to one side of your bed while Dick settled on the other. This was how it went most nights. You squished in the middle of their two muscular bodies.
Shifting around a bit, you grabbed the remote. Your head leaned onto Dick’s bicep while your leg overlapped with Jason’s. You could already feel sleepiness creeping up on you, but there was one more thing to decide before letting yourself drift off. Really the only thing that still caused arguments as of late.
“So… Do you guys wanna watch something?”
A few hours later, the tv was still on, broadcasting flickering patterns of light across your bedroom walls. The volume stayed low, the words of the characters on screen inaudible. Not that it mattered. You, Jason, and Dick were all fast asleep by now.
Each of you laid in the positions that had become normal to you now. Dick slept supine with one arm up, you curled into his chest, and Jason latched onto your smaller frame from behind.
The first time this happened it was almost overwhelming to you. You’d spent the vast majority of your nights up until this point alone. The one boyfriend you had in adolescence had never been allowed to sleepover, and the few flings here and there didn’t bother to really spend the night. You were used to the spacious loneliness that came with the mattresses thrice your size.
But since Dick and Jason had taken up residence with you and divided your king sized bed into three sectors, you didn’t think you could ever go back. Without Dick’s strong heartbeat thumping below your ear, something would feel missing. The absence of soft puffs of Jason’s breath against the back of your neck would leave you cold. In only a handful of nights, you’d become acclimated to sleeping with tangled limbs and limited moving room.
Besides the barely audible chatter of the television, your bedroom was always silent at night. The penthouse was so high up, the sounds of the city below never disturbed your slumber. Cars honking, people shouting, trucks huffing. It was all so distant and muted. None of it could penetrate the peaceful haze of your dreams.
Tonight something else was responsible for that. Not just sounds, but something physical that roused you from the depths of unconsciousness.
It started as simple rustling. Just the sheets shifting against each other, the blanket being pulled from beneath one person’s weight to wrap around another’s. And then grunting followed it. It was quiet and uneven, accompanied by heavy breaths.
You didn’t wake from just that though. Only when you heard mumbling and felt more forceful movements did your eyes flutter open.
Jason’s nose wasn’t nestled against the base of your neck. That was the first thing you realized.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes while sitting up. Your movements came slow at first, bogged down by your body’s desire to go back to sleep. It took a few seconds to register what was happening. The glow of the tv disoriented you as your mind tried to fit everything into place.
But you soon realized the mumbling and squirming was coming from Jason.
Glancing over at him, you saw him curled up facing the opposite of you. The muscles in his back looked tense, as if bracing for some kind of impact. His legs kicked at the covers, not with their full force since he couldn’t give all his effort but still pretty hard.
You furrowed your brows as you observed for a few seconds. At first, you didn’t understand what you were looking at. But then you heard him more clearly. You could make out words like “no” and “stop” and “get off.” He made a noise that almost sounded like crying, and that was when it clicked.
He was having a nightmare.
Instantly, you scooted closer, kneeling behind his back. You brought a gentle hand down on his bicep and tried waking him with a combination of soothing strokes and weak shakes.
“Jason?” you whispered. You didn’t want him to get pissy about being woken up, but you also didn’t like watching him upset by his dreams.
He didn’t wake up from your cautious touches or quiet call, so you tried a little harder. You shook him with some actual dedication and leaned in closer.
“Jason. You’re dreaming. Wake up,” you said. Your voice remained caring and tender, but you said the words clearly. His eyes stayed shut though so you went for one more attempt. “Come onnnn. Wake up. Don’t make me get some water-”
The pitchy whine snapped his eyes open; only he didn’t awaken with the relieved gasp or tiny jolt you were expecting. Instead, he snapped at you like you’d nudged him with the barrel of a gun rather than your fingers. He flipped around and lunged. One of his hands wrapped around your throat, the other slammed your shoulder down to the mattress.
You squeaked at the blur of motion. Of course, you knew Jason was strong. It was obvious from the way he worked out and the muscles padding his body. You’d just never really felt how strong he was first hand.
This was a different kind of strength from when he fucked you. His fingers didn’t dig in just enough to mark, their pressure against your skin acted as an unspoken threat. He slammed you down with way more force than when he was just manhandling you. In a position like this, you realized how powerless you really were against him, how easy it would be for him to snap your bones or severely maim you if he felt so inclined.
You stared up at him with widened eyes. Your body trembled with a mixture of fear and confusion. Earlier, when he was on top of you, looking all soft and sweet, it seemed hard to compare him to the facade he wore around strangers. But right now, he had morphed into another creature entirely. That quick temper you saw from day one became so much more severe under pressure. It sharpened into something looking to puncture. You didn’t even want to speak his name to try and calm whatever sort of reaction you’d triggered in case the mere sound of your voice would set him off further.
Luckily for you, being throttled onto the bed had been enough to wake Dick too. He came to his senses faster than you had. The second he saw your predicament, he was up. He grabbed Jason’s shoulder and tugged him back without fear. Maybe he’d done this before.
You sat up, rubbing your throat as you scooted back to lean against the headboard. There was no internal damage that you could feel since he hadn’t actually choked you, but the sting of forming bruises along the base of your throat lingered.
“Hey, hey, hey. You were dreaming, man. No one’s here. You’re alright. She’s fine,” Dick murmured to Jason at the end of the bed.
He definitely had done this before. You could tell. The way he positioned his hands on his shoulders and made him look in his eyes. The tone he spoke with, intentionally grounding and firm without being harsh or scolding. It was practiced, tried and true. You wondered for how long had Jason needed this kind of help. For how long had he struggled with whatever caused him to lash out.
It only took a couple moments for Jason to come back down to reality with the both of you. You could nearly see his features relax back into the shape you’d grown accustomed to. His eyes softened, and although his chest still heaved with rough panting breaths, his posture relaxed. He rubbed a hand over his face before his gaze shifted to you.
For a second, he appeared almost sheepish. Though a stoic mask quickly came up to conceal that.
“Are you alright?” he rasped. “I didn’t…”
“I’m fine,” you reassured quickly. “You just startled me a little, but I’m not hurt or anything.”
He nodded, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “That’s… um that’s good,” he said. But he still wasn’t settled. Instead of returning to his previous place next to you, he made his way off the bed. “I’m sorry. I- It- I’m just gonna take a minute,” he mumbled.
“Jason, wait. You don’t have to-” you started, but he was already out the door without looking back.
Your head turned to Dick who was coming to sit next to you again. “Did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to scare him like that. I just touched his arm and-” you tried to explain.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t your fault. You’re ok,” he said. His hands gently maneuvered your jaw around to get a look at the markings on your throat.
“Is he?” you asked. “He seemed really upset. I don’t want him thinking I’m mad or something…”
“He doesn’t think you’re mad. Promise,” Dick said softly. Once he was satisfied with his inspection of your neck, he leaned back against the headboard next to you.
You wrapped your arm around Dick’s, leaning your head on his shoulder. The two of you sat in the silence of the bedroom for a couple seconds. You hesitated before speaking again.
“Why did he get so freaked out?” you asked, voice quieter than before. You knew there was a risk you were prying into something that was none of your business, but didn’t you have a right to know after getting choked-slammed as a result of it?
“Jason… He…” Dick started, clearly contemplating whether he should share or not as well. “A few years ago, he was on a case. One of the last ones at our old firm. He was serving a protection order for this girl. And anyways, the details aren’t too important, but it didn’t go well. He got hurt. The client… she didn’t make it out.”
Your eyes widened. Suddenly, guilt for all the shit you’d given Jason upon meeting him hit you like a truck.
“I… Is that what he dreams about?” you asked.
Dick shrugged. “He’s never told me exactly. I’ve only seen him like that a few times before this, on different cases, but I didn’t think he’d had one in a long time,” he said.
“Does he blame himself for what happened?” you said.
“Of course,” he said, smiling a little despite the words. “Any time something goes wrong on a case, you blame yourself. But there was no way he could have done anything different. We had a leak within the agency that sold out their location. No one knew until it was too late.”
You frowned. This story didn’t get any better the more you learned. You tried to piece this information together with your already existing perception of Jason. Part of you just wanted to imagine what he would have been like before any of that. He probably would have been around your age. Maybe he’d be carefree like you or have a sense of humor closer to Dick’s. It didn’t really matter though. Contextualizing what was real was more important than imagining a life that would never exist.
“Should we…?” you said, tilting your head towards the door.
“No. He likes to be alone afterwards,” he answered.
Your frown worsened. Likes didn’t seem like the correct word here. You doubted he liked any of this. He was probably in his room or downstairs, moping around, feeling ashamed and isolated, wanting company and not knowing how to ask for it.
But Dick was already laying down again, so you followed in suit.
“Just give him till morning. He’ll be ok,” he told you, kissing your forehead before relaxing into the mattress again.
You did not plan on giving Jason till morning.
After lying there for a couple minutes, worry for him still nagged at you. There was no way you were gonna fall asleep like this, thinking of a new scenario every few seconds, all of which involved him lonely and in anguish.
You just waited until Dick fell asleep before creeping out of bed and slipping into the hall. Quiet as could be, you padded down the lofted walkway. You peeked into his room on the way, finding it empty and untouched except for his open duffel bag. He must have been downstairs then.
When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you found the living room and kitchen empty too. A few more paces in, however, you spotted his figure out on the balcony. He leaned against the railing towards the corner, head hanging forward. His dark hair blew to the side in the breeze outside.
Even though you knew it’d be cold, you opened the door and stepped out. A little shiver overcame you as the chilled air hit your skin. He didn’t look. Either he didn’t hear the door, or he was hoping you’d cut your losses now and go back inside.
But of course, you didn’t.
“How do you not get dizzy doing that?” you called softly as you approached him.
He glanced over in your direction. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of heights too, little brat?” he asked. Despite the nickname, his voice came out almost hollow. As if someone had carved out his usual mirth.
“Well kinda… I don’t come out here too much,” you admitted with a shrug.
In contrast to your slight aversion, you took up the place next to him, placing your forearms on the frosty steel rail.
“Why do you live in a penthouse if you don’t like heights?” he said.
“I didn’t really choose the floor,” you started. You intended to say more, but a low hum from him cut you off.
“That’s right. How could I have thought otherwise?”
He said it in the way he talked to you before, when you were just a client. When you were just a pest. It hurt a bit, you couldn’t lie. But you didn’t let it push you away. You knew he wouldn’t be in a good mood before you came down here. The time alone probably only hardened his feelings and aimed them more at himself.
“Are you ok, Jason?” you asked, soft and quiet. You reached to touch his arm; however, he put a stop to that by inching away.
“Don’t,” was all he said.
“I just-” you tried.
“I know. You just want to help. But I’m telling you don’t. I don’t need it,” he maintained.
Maybe you should have stopped there. It might have been better to just stand there with him, offer comfort by not letting him be alone even if it had to be through silence. But to be honest… the short tone and the way he interrupted your point pissed you off. You took a deep breath and gripped the railing a little tighter.
“You look like you do,” you said, trying to remain non-confrontational. “You’re out here all alone while it’s freezing.”
“Like I said, I don’t. I’m fine. I can handle myself.”
“But you don’t have to! You can tell me stuff, you know. Like real stuff. I know I’m not like your best friend or anything, but I wanna actually know you. I can listen and maybe help if you let me,” you said, starting the same spiel you gave to Dick earlier.
Only Jason didn’t want it.
“I don’t want help from you.”
Your cheeks burned at the targeted nature of the statement. It wasn’t that he didn’t want help, apparently. No. Just that he didn’t want it to be yours.
“You know you have your right to privacy, and if you really don’t wanna tell me how you feel, fine. But don’t act like I’m a goddamn stranger,” you said.
“Oh, that’s a bad word. You sure daddy lets you say that one?” he retorted.
And that stung. He’d made cracks like that before, of course, on the day you met and those that came after. Right up until that morning where you’d given him all of yourself. That was why it hurt so much when he said it now. It was why your throat tightened a little and your eyes started to sting. You thought that things were different. That he at least understood you even if he didn’t respect you.
“Why are you being such a jerk? I was just trying to help you. Just because you’re too scared to let me in, you don’t have to be rude,” you defended.
He let out a bitter laugh at that. “Oh scared? Is that what I am? You’d like that wouldn’t you?” he taunted. “Because then you’d get to be the one to fix me, and you could finally prove to me that you’re capable. You could get my approval for doing something worthwhile because you know it’ll never come from your daddy.”
The breath vanished from your lungs. You had to actively try not to cry now. Crying would only make you look more pathetic in front of him, and while he may be winning the argument, you’d be damned if you proved him right in any way.
“You barely even know me! How-” you forced out, trying to hide the way your voice cracked.
“If I barely even know you then why the fuck would I wanna talk about this stuff with you?” he said.
Your argument shriveled up on your tongue because, technically, he had a point.
“I was just offering because I thought…” you trailed off. A combination of losing and not wanting to share held you back now.
“I’m not telling you anything because I know you,” he continued. “I know you wouldn’t understand, and you never will. You’ll never know what real pain is. You’ll never have to deal with actual guilt. And I know for a fucking fact shame isn’t a thing in your life.”
You stood there, taking it all. This was the first time he was actually mean to you. Everything in the beginning had been a simmer, but now his temper was heating up. You didn’t even know what to do when he was done. You didn’t want to cower and run off with your tail between your legs, but you also didn’t want to agitate him more.
“Ok, Jason, I get it,” you said. Now yours was the voice that had been hollowed out. This was probably his first time hearing you speak without some form of whining or teasing.
He looked away, and you could tell he realized that he went a little too far. He wanted you to leave him alone but not permanently. But what was said was said. There was no way to unhear his words.
“Look…” he started, but you honestly couldn’t take any half-assed apologies right now.
“It’s fine. Just forget it,” you said, barely more than a whisper, before walking back inside.
The air in the living room was objectively warmer, but the emptiness of the place made it seem chilled. You skulked back upstairs and into your room, slipping into bed with Dick again as if you never left. Your head landed on his chest and your palm rested on the center of his abdomen. You shut your eyes in an attempt to let the sound of his beating heart drown out Jason’s words that were still bouncing around in your skull.
It didn’t really work, but one positive came along with the sadness. It suppressed your anxiety. The pain left you wanting to avoid Jason, so you weren’t at all concerned about whether he was coming back to your bed or not.
You accepted the fact that he’d probably be back in the guest room for good.
#jason todd x reader#jason todd smut#jason todd x you#jason todd imagine#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson smut#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dc x reader#dc smut#dc imagine#batboys x reader#ch: dick grayson 💌#ch: jason todd 💌
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🧸ྀི - jaeyun and his (cute) jealousy issues?
pairing: husband!jake x wife!reader • pls mind the fact that this is an actual (almost) teeth-rotting fluff!
a/n: im actually tooo lazy to make a proper layout for this one but enjoy it regardless! reblogs and comments are highly appreciated 🎀here’s my masterlist!🎀
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you honestly have no idea what is going on with your husband lately.
jake’s usually the most easygoing, playful person you know — the kind of guy who laughs at his own jokes and kisses you on the forehead whenever he walks past. but lately? he’s been a walking storm cloud, and you’re starting to feel like you’re married to a grumpy old man instead of the golden retriever boy you fell in love with.
it started small — sighs when you took a little longer getting the baby to sleep, huffs when you missed dinner because the baby needed you. then it got worse. now, he snaps over everything.
tonight is no different.
“it’s just laundry, jake,” you sigh, leaning against the armrest of the couch as he paces like he’s on a mission to wear a hole in the carpet.
“just laundry?” he scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “the whole load smells like mildew now! that’s like… five shirts! gone!”
“you have fifty more in the closet,” you deadpan.
he opens his mouth to argue, then closes it with a glare.
you watch him, eyes narrowing. this isn’t about laundry. you’re sure of it. he’s been like this for weeks — tense, restless, snappy over the tiniest things. and every time you ask, he just mumbles “i’m fine” and stomps off like a teenager grounded from his xbox.
you’re tired of it.
“jake,” you say carefully, sitting up straighter. “can you please tell me what’s going on with you? you’ve been weird for days.”
“i’m not weird.”
“you’re literally brooding.”
“i’m not brooding.”
“you’re pacing dramatically and sighing like you’re in a sad music video.”
“i’m not—” he stops mid-step, glaring at you again. “i’m not brooding.”
you stare him down, crossing your arms.
“jaeyun.”
his jaw clenches.
“it’s nothing,” he mutters, turning away.
“jake,” you try again, voice softer now. “i’m your wife. talk to me.”
he doesn’t respond.
you sigh, running a hand through your hair. okay. plan b it is.
“if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” you say slowly, “i’m going to assume it’s something ridiculous.”
he snorts. “yeah, sure.”
“like… you’re mad because i finished the last of the cereal.”
“what? no.”
“or because i didn’t let you buy that life-sized iron man figure last week.”
“hey, that would’ve been cool.”
“or,” you pause dramatically, “you’re jealous of the baby.”
silence.
jake freezes.
your eyes widen.
oh. my. god.
“…you’re jealous of the baby?” you whisper, half in shock, half on the verge of laughing.
“no,” he says quickly — too quickly.
you gasp. “you are!”
“i’m not jealous of our kid!” he protests, turning red.
you stand up slowly, like you’re piecing together the biggest mystery of the century.
“oh my god. that’s why you’re acting like this? because i pamper her too much?”
he groans, dragging his hands down his face.
“it’s not — i didn’t mean —” he stumbles over his words, looking mortified.
you can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of you.
“jake,” you giggle, stepping closer to him. “are you seriously mad because i give the baby more attention than you?”
he groans louder, tipping his head back like he’s praying for the earth to swallow him whole.
“you do, though!” he finally bursts out, voice high-pitched and frustrated. “you kiss her all the time! you hold her, cuddle her, play with her — and i’m just… here! i get, like, one kiss a day now, and even that’s a forehead kiss while you’re half asleep!”
he’s full-on pouting now, looking like a kicked puppy.
you bite your lip, trying so hard not to laugh again.
“jaeyun,” you whisper, stepping closer to cup his cheeks. his face is warm under your hands. “are you seriously telling me you’re jealous of our three-month-old daughter?”
“i’m not jealous,” he grumbles, but his voice cracks. “i just… miss you. i miss when you looked at me the way you look at her. i miss cuddling without a baby monitor going off. i miss being the one you kiss all the time.”
your heart squeezes so hard it almost hurts.
you stare at him, his brows furrowed, lips downturned in the saddest little frown — and you realize he’s not even mad. he’s just hurt.
“oh, jaeyun,” you whisper, your voice softening. you pull him into a hug, feeling him melt into you instantly.
“i love you,” you murmur into his shoulder, holding him tight. “so much. you’re not in second place. you’re my first everything — first love, first choice, first home. you’re my person. and yeah, i’m obsessed with our baby, but that doesn’t mean i stopped being obsessed with you.”
he doesn’t say anything for a second — just squeezes you tighter, his face buried in your neck.
“i’m still mad about the laundry,” he mumbles.
you snort.
“you’ll live.”
he laughs, finally, and the sound is so warm and familiar that it makes your heart swell.
and from that moment on, jake doesn’t even try to hide how clingy he is.
he follows you around the house like a lost puppy, wrapping his arms around your waist whenever you’re cooking or cleaning. if you’re sitting down, he’s immediately in your lap — or pulling you into his. he whines when you get up, pouts when you leave the room, and steals every possible kiss he can.
“jaeyun, i have to go check on the baby,” you giggle as he tugs you back onto the couch for the third time that afternoon.
“she’s sleeping,” he huffs, nuzzling into your neck. “she gets you all day. i get you now.”
“you’re ridiculous.”
“yeah, but you love me.”
“unfortunately.”
he gasps dramatically. “take that back!”
“make me.”
he tackles you onto the couch, smothering you with kisses until you’re both breathless with laughter.
and honestly? you wouldn’t have it any other way.
©️ all rights reserved | hsnlv | 2025
#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen jake#sim jaeyun#enhypen x reader#jake fanfic#jake imagines#jake fluff#jake scenarios#jake sim#sim jaeyun fanfic#enhypen sim jaeyun#jake x reader#jake fanfiction#jake fic#sim jaeyun imagines#enhypen jaeyun#jaeyun x reader#jaeyun imagines#jaeyun fanfic#jaeyun fluff#jake enhypen#enhypen fic#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fluff#jake#jake x y/n#jake x you#sim jaeyun x reader#jaeyun scenarios
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Imagine feeling needy and sad when Bucky pays more attention to your very round, pregnant tummy instead of you. I mean he doesn't actually. You're his entire world and you come first no matter what but currently, you feel like the little super soldier you're carrying is getting much more love than you.
"How's my little plum" Bucky cooed, peppering kisses all over your tummy, snuggling against your skin after coming back from a mission. 2 weeks had never felt longer and you were craving your husband more than ever. As soon as you heard the rumble of the jet, you waddled from your room as best as you could, panting out of breath by the time you reached the living room.
You couldn't wait to have your Bucky safe in your arms again, giggling at the way he tossed his bag and jacket to the side haphazardly, running straight to you. You braced yourself for an attack and flurry of hugs and kisses he always greeted you with but it never came.
You squeaked as he picked you up and set you on the couch, lifting your shirt up to curl up with your belly, sighing contently as his scruffy cheek pressed against your warm skin. You brought your hand down to play with his soft cropped hair, longing to feel his arms hold you, his warm lips all over your face, his sweet words of how much he missed you and how happy he was to be back home with you again. Instead, the tiny soldier in your belly was hogging up all the time with his daddy.
Of course it was ridiculous. You knew Bucky loved you more than anything else in the world; he doted on you all the time, you were the most precious thing in this life. He adored you more than ever, worshipping your every being and ever since you'd told him he was going to be a father, he'd fallen in love with you more. You were giving him the family he dreamed of with his dream girl, you trusted him, you were carrying his little baby.
You will always be everything to him.
Yet you couldn't help but feel a little left out of the welcome party, your throat feeling tight, eyes starting to fill with tears. You missed him soo much and he was still busy nuzzling into your tummy, but not busy enough to miss the whimper that slipped past your lips.
"Baby?" Bucky's head shot up as soon as he heard what sounded like a cry but it couldn't be. His eyes filled with worry when he saw your sweet fallen face, indeed crying and poorly hiding it. "Why are you crying angel, what happened, is everything okay?"
His mind started to run a hundred miles a minute, ready to swoop you away to the med wing when shook your head, another wave of tears pooling when he reached out to wipe your cheeks.
"It's silly" You shrug with a sniffle but Bucky isn't having it.
"Tell me what's wrong baby" his baby blues pled with you, waiting to fix what was wrong because why was his perfect angel sad.
"I didn't get a hello kiss" You say with a pout and Bucky found himself stuck between wanting to cry and loving you more.
"I'm sorry, mama" Bucky coos, scooping you right up into his arms, cupping your cheek and placing a kiss onto your nose. Then your forehead. "M'sorry" He places a gently kiss to your still pouted lips, repeatedly peppering kisses till he hears you giggle. "You deserve all the hello kisses angel"
"I thought you didn't miss me" You whisper with your face pressed against his neck, breathing in his scent, all the anxiety you felt with him gone washing away in an instant.
"I missed you more than you know, baby" His lips move against your hair, "How could I not miss the pretty girl I fell so in love with, you're it for me"
He kept you in his arms, his hand slipping up your shirt to rub your back, the simple action nearly lulling you to sleep. He picks you up with ease, deciding to run a bath because he doesn't want to be away from your side for another minute and he keeps himself glued to you the entire time. Your back is against his chest, his hands coming up to massage your tense shoulders, kissing down your neck. He doesn't let go when it's time to rinse off, standing with both hands over your tummy as the hot water cascades over you both. He gets you dried off with a nice fluff towel before taking you to bed to sleep, frowning when you shuffled around in discomfort.
"I think your little plum misses you" You giggled between a squeak as baby Bucky kicked in your tummy, refusing to sleep until he heard his daddy's voice say goodnight. You gave him a pointed look as Bucky grinned, shimmying down the bed to rest between your legs at eyelevel with your belly. "Come talk to your son please"
"Quit kicking your ma" Bucky whispered, his metal hand patting the area where his baby boys tiny feet caused a ruckus, "time to let mommy rest, plum"
"Unbelievable" you huffed as the kicking stopped immediately, your little one settling contently while you also got comfortable against Bucky's chest. "So in love with his daddy"
"He gets it from you" Bucky smiled down at your content form, already half asleep, snug in his arms, "Pretty angel"
#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x pregnant reader#bucky barnes x pregnant reader fluff#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes comfort#bucky barnes comfort fic#bucky barnes comfort fic#bucky barnes x fluff#bucky barnes x freader#bucky x you#bucky x pregnant reader#bucky x f reader#bucky x fluff#bucky x f!reader#bucky x female reader#bucky fan fic#bucky fan fiction#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes fan fic
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what’s the story about the generative power model and water consumption? /gen
There's this myth going around about generative AI consuming truly ridiculous amount of power and water. You'll see people say shit like "generating one image is like just pouring a whole cup of water out into the Sahara!" and bullshit like that, and it's just... not true. The actual truth is that supercomputers, which do a lot of stuff, use a lot of power, and at one point someone released an estimate of how much power some supercomputers were using and people went "oh, that supercomputer must only do AI! All generative AI uses this much power!" and then just... made shit up re: how making an image sucks up a huge chunk of the power grid or something. Which makes no sense because I'm given to understand that many of these models can run on your home computer. (I don't use them so I don't know the details, but I'm told by users that you can download them and generate images locally.) Using these models uses far less power than, say, online gaming. Or using Tumblr. But nobody ever talks about how evil those things are because of their power generation. I wonder why.
To be clear, I don't like generative AI. I'm sure it's got uses in research and stuff but on the consumer side, every effect I've seen of it is bad. Its implementation in products that I use has always made those products worse. The books it writes and flood the market with are incoherent nonsense at best and dangerous at worst (let's not forget that mushroom foraging guide). It's turned the usability of search engines from "rapidly declining, but still usable if you can get past the ads" into "almost one hundred per cent useless now, actually not worth the effort to de-bullshittify your search results", especially if you're looking for images. It's a tool for doing bullshit that people were already doing much easier and faster, thus massively increasing the amount of bullshit. The only consumer-useful uses I've seen of it as a consumer are niche art projects, usually projects that explore the limits of the tool itself like that one poetry book or the Infinite Art Machine; overall I'd say its impact at the Casual Random Person (me) level has been overwhelmingly negative. Also, the fact that so much AI turns out to be underpaid people in a warehouse in some country with no minimum wage and terrible labour protections is... not great. And the fact that it's often used as an excuse to try to find ways to underpay professionals ("you don't have to write it, just clean up what the AI came up with!") is also not great.
But there are real labour and product quality concerns with generative AI, and there's hysterical bullshit. And the whole "AI is magically destroying the planet via climate change but my four hour twitch streaming sesh isn't" thing is hysterical bullshit. The instant I see somebody make this stupid claim I put them in the same mental bucket as somebody complaining about AI not being "real art" -- a hatemobber hopping on the hype train of a new thing to hate and feel like an enlightened activist about when they haven't bothered to learn a fucking thing about the issue. And I just count my blessings that they fell in with this group instead of becoming a flat earther or something.
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"it's a scream, baby!" ↠ day 15 ; keeping quiet



↠ billy loomis x reader x stu macher
fandom: scream word count: 3.9k warnings: nsfw 18+, gf!billy and stu, DUBCON, semi-public sex, homoerotic undertones, mentions of gore, cheating, degradation, dirty talk, thigh fucking, double penetration, knife play if you squint, gagging, unprotected sex, creampies, cumplay, cum eating, fingering, my stu bias definitely shows sorry guys
kinktober m.list || read on ao3

You weren’t really much of a party person, and all of your friends were aware of that. It was why none of them gave much resistance to the idea of you slipping away.
Stu’s house was insanely crowded, more than his usual parties. It was obviously because of the recent killing spree by the mysterious masked killer who had yet to be caught. Your general anxiety in loud spaces mixed with that of the unknown killer running around had you even more paranoid.
“Be careful!” Sidney calls out and Tatum waves as you make your way up the staircase. You send a small smile back as you weave your way through drunk teenagers stumbling all around, looking for more drinks.
You’ve been in Stu’s house plenty of times, having been friends with him for years at this point. You make a beeline straight for his bedroom, hoping that no one was in there hooking up so you could have a quiet place to decompress.
You knock loudly on his door, pressing your ear against it as the loud music and teens make it hard to hear inside. There’s no answer to your knowledge, and you slowly peek your head in.
No one is in the room, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You shut the door behind you and plop down on Stu’s bed, laying yourself out in a heap of exhaustion.
A bang from somewhere inside the room startles you, making you jump up from your seat. You notice that Stu’s closet door is slightly ajar, and figure that something inside fell down. You make your way over, the closet creaking as you open it.
A gasp leaves your lips and you step back after seeing what it was that fell.
It was one of the ghostface masks.
You slowly back away, eyes wide in disbelief with what you were seeing. No. It wasn’t possible, right? Stu couldn’t have been the killer; it made no sense. You bend down and cautiously pick up the mask.
It looks like your average store-bought cheap costume accessory. You inspect it closer, but bring a hand up to your mouth and almost drop the mask when you see what’s stained on it.
Small flecks of blood, all spattered across the edges.
The sound of the door creaking has you throwing the mask back into the closet and slamming the door, chest heaving as you pretend as though you weren’t searching through it.
In walks Stu, his trademark grin spread wide across his face.
“Now what are you doing in here?” he teases suggestively and wiggles his eyebrows. He closes the door and leans against it.
But clearly you’re not very good at hiding your emotions, because the smile instantly drops from Stu’s face. “Have you been…snooping in my things?”
You bite your lip and can feel your heart drop in your chest. “What? No! I just came in here to rest.” Your voice sounds incredibly shaking and you know there’s no way he’s buying it.
Stu’s eyes narrow, and he stalks closer to you. You back away in return, but his long strides make it difficult to put distance between the two of you. “I think you’re lying to me.”
He utters out your name in a warning tone. At this point, you know, he knows you know, and you know he knows you know that he’s the Ghostface killer. You make a feeble attempt to duck past Stu and make a run for it, but he grabs your arm and pulls you against his chest, completely restraining you.
You try your best at escaping. You pound on his chest, wiggle in his grip, and even try biting him. That fails miserably and Stu slaps his large palm against your mouth, preventing you from screaming for help.
He drags you over to the bed, and you start to kick your heels against his legs. You aren’t sure what he’s capable of anymore. Is this the moment you die? Is Stu going to kill you? You let out a choked sob underneath his palm, clawing at his hand but to no avail.
You push back against him with all of the force of your body, yet Stu remains solid. “Be quiet,” he mutters in your ear.
And then you feel it. On your backside, you can feel Stu getting hard. You whimper in fear, and your body goes limp. But he clearly notices that you could feel it, and he chuckles darkly.
“Got me excited with all that struggling, babe.” He shamelessly rubs himself against you, his erection fully hard beneath his pants now.
Despite the terror that you feel in that moment, you couldn’t help but moan silently.
You would be lying if you said you never thought of hooking up with your friend. Stu was hot, he was funny, and if Tatum was a reliable source, he also had a huge dick.
If fucking Stu could save you from death, you would gladly let him use you however he wished.
You quickly concoct a plan in your head—a lame one, but a plan—to seduce Stu in an attempt to hopefully convince him not to kill you afterwards.
Before you can even attempt to put your plan into action, the bedroom door creaks open. “Shit,” you hear Stu mutter under his breath. Both you and him turn together, and in walks Billy, sauntering as he usually does.
He pauses and raises an eyebrow as he surveys the position you and Stu are in.
“Did I interrupt something?” Billy smirks, his eyes going dark. You look up through your eyelashes at Stu, who presses you closer to him, as if warning you not to signal for help. He shakes his head at Billy.
“She knows, man.”
Your body goes completely rigid in Stu’s grip. A chill runs down your spine.
Billy was involved in this Ghostface shit too? Well, that actually surprised you less than Stu. Billy was kind of a horror junkie in secret, even rivaling Randy, and he always had this strange look in his eye whenever he thought no one was looking.
His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. “Oh?”
The tone in his voice is sinister, much different than what you’ve heard from him before.
He strides over, pulling out a knife from his pocket and holding it out towards you.
You shriek, but it comes out all muffled. You try to tilt your head away from where Billy points the knife to your chin, but Stu keeps his hand solid, forcing your head forward.
He clicks his tongue at you, teasing you for your failed attempts to escape.
“I really didn’t want to kill you now, sweetheart, but I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
Tears gather in your eyes, threatening to fall. You still helplessly struggle against Stu’s grip, choking back sobs. You so desperately want Stu to release his hand, want to beg the two of them to keep you alive. You’re two seconds away from sounding like you belong in a bad porno that the boys rent from the video store where the woman says please! I’ll do anything!
But you don’t need to do any of that. Because before Billy starts slicing and dicing and stabbing at you, he backs away and looks Stu up and down. He then barks out a laugh.
“What, did chasing her around get you all stiff?”
Stu grins cheekily and grinds his erection up against your butt. You let out a surprised moan under his palm, grabbing onto his forearm. “You know I’ve always wanted to fuck her, man.”
Billy eyes shift between you and Stu, before pausing on you. A smirk slowly grows across his features until it morphs into a toothy grin. You can see the way his cock begins to twitch in his jeans and your heart sinks into your stomach.
“I’m not going to let you fuck her alone tonight.”
As if Stu was waiting this whole time for Billy’s approval, the hand that was restricting your mouth moves off and down to his jeans. Before you can even think about opening your mouth, Billy brings the knife back up your face, right under your chin forcing you to keep your mouth closed and head tilted up to meet his eyes.
“If you say a word I’ll cut your throat open and stick my cock in it.” He imitates the motion of slicing the knife across your throat.
You swallow harshly and can’t control the way you tremble under Stu’s hold. But the depraved part of you has your core throbbing, at the carnal lust that fills his eyes, so desperately wanting them both to get to fucking you sooner rather than later.
Scoffing in his face, you try your best to put up a calm front. “Are you guys all bark and no bite? All I hear is talking but no action.”
“Oh you’ll be getting action soon, baby.” You can feel Stu’s erect cock rubbing against your backside and the way that his arousal stains your shirt. His hand holds it at the base as he guides it between your legs, slowly fucking you between your thighs. You look down to see the bulging red tip of his cock leaking beads of precum as it penetrates the plush skin of your legs with every thrust.
Billy takes his knife and slices your skirt right down the middle, the two pieces falling to shreds at your feet.
“Yeah, there it is!” Stu yells as his long fingers poke and prod at your pussy through your underwear until it soaks the fabric through. “All nice and wet for us now.”
He moves the material to the side of your puffy lips and without so much as a warning sticks his cock right inside.
“Oh fuck,” you moan out as quietly as you can with the intense pleasure. It slides in easily with how wet you’ve gotten over the past couple of minutes. You arch your back into Stu as his long cock bullies its way inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
Stu begins thrusting immediately, the sounds of your skin slapping together being the loudest thing in the room.
“Such a dirty little slut,” Stu’s voice teases, laughter evident in his tone. His arm around your waist holds you up as he pounds into you at lightning speed, bouncing you up and down his cock. Your feet lift off the ground ever-so-slightly as he pulls you up. “But I guess I’m kind of a slut to. Always wanted to fuck you like this.”
Through your lust-filled haze, you can see Billy stroking himself through his boxers, jeans already unzipped and pulled down. He stares at both you and Stu and where the two of you connect.
“You gonna join man?” Stu lifts you up under your thighs. The action lifts your feet up in the air and exposes your pussy directly in Billy’s line of view. Stu pulls his cock out enough so just the head remains inside, and starts fingering around your lips.
You gasp at the sensation, your arms gripping his own and your walls clenching down desperately onto him. Stu’s fingers make a v shape and pull your lips open wide. “There’s plenty of room for you in here.”
“N-no!” You sob out, clawing at Stu and kicking your legs. The implication is not subtle at all, and the fear has you clenching even tighter onto him. There was no way that you could fit both of them in your pussy. Stu’s cock is already thick and fills you completely; you don’t think you could take another one without breaking.
Billy continues to palm himself above his underwear, the head of his cock poking out from the elastic band. “Fuck yeah, now your speaking my language!”
“No! Billy!” You shake your head wildly, tears threatening to fall from your swollen eyes. “Stop! It won’t fit!”
He rolls his eyes and takes his hard cock out of his boxers, pumping it with a few solid strokes. “Stop complaining.”
“He’ll make it fit,” Stu giggles from behind you.
A strangled sound leaves your lips, a mix between a choke and a sob. You’re powerless in Stu’s hold as he moves your limbs every which way he pleases. He never lets up in his thrusts, his stamina completely insatiable, and it doesn’t feel like he’s stopping any time soon.
You have no choice but to lay helpless as Billy guides his cock into your wet hole, pushing against Stu’s. The stretch from the two of their massive lengths is painful, and you bite the outside of your hand as an attempt to soften your cries.
“Fuck,” Billy moans, slotting himself fully inside of you. His eyes squeeze shut and his head is thrown back in pleasure. Your hands press against his chest to stabilize yourself.
Your eyes roll back as you start moaning audibly, his cock stuffing you full alongside Stu’s.
“None of that.” Billy slaps a hand over your mouth and digs his fingers into your cheek. “If any one of those sleazebags outside hears those moans I’ll have to kill them and fuck you over their dead body.”
His voice is deep, gravely, and completely serious—you believe him in his entirety. You nod rapidly under his hold. You don’t want the death of anyone to be on your hands, no matter how annoying they are.
“Good. Now stay quiet.”
Billy and Stu take turns fucking themselves up into you. They give you any chance for a break, when one pulls their length almost completely out, the other shoves it in. They take turns pounding themselves into you. Your walls clench hard around them, being stretched to the brim. It takes all your power not to cry out from the pain and pleasure, but the fear from Billy’s unpredictably overpowers all other emotions.
Billy seems to be caught up in the haze of his own arousal, fingers digging in the skin of your hips as he thrusts his cock in and out of you rhythmically. He groans. “Forgot what it’s like to fuck a tight, wet hole. Sidney still hasn’t put out yet.”
Your body instantly freezes at Billy’s words. In the midst of all the chaos that involved finding out that two of your friends were active serial killers, both of them have been wanting to fuck you, and both of them actually proceeding to fuck you, you were ashamed to admit that you completely forgot about your the rest of your friends downstairs. Sidney and Tatum, two of your closest friends, were partying just below you and were blissfully unaware that you were in fact not resting from the partying, but instead getting your hole absolutely destroyed by their boyfriends just a couple hundred feet away.
The reality of your situation comes back to you and the dread starts to sink in. Instinctively, you begin thrashing your body all around, causing as much commotion as you can. Your nails end up scratching Stu on his arm. “Ow!” he whines out, but it’s a cross between a whimper and a turned on moan. He bites your neck in retaliation. “I like ‘em feisty, you know. Really gets my dick goin’.”
Billy, on the other hand, doesn’t take your failed act of defiance so lightly. His hand reaches up and squeezes your cheeks as he pulls your face close to him, not letting up with the pistoning of his hips.
“Not. A. Word.” Every syllable is spoken individually, heavily gritted out through clenched teeth. At that moment, an array of muffled voices is heard right outside the bedroom door. Billy and you turn to the source of the noise at the same time. Billy turns back to you first. “You know what happens if they walk in,” he trails off darkly, and out of the corner of your eye you can see the glint of his knife as it rests on the side table, within an arm's reach from him. If he wanted to, he could easily slip himself out of you and kill the unsuspecting partygoers within mere seconds.
He buries himself back inside of you as you say that, the two of their cocks fighting for their spots inside of your restrictive walls. Billy and Stu moan in unison at the feeling, both of you gripping onto them and the way they feel pressed up against each other.
As hopeless as your situation may seem in the end, you try to make due with what you have and not let the guilt consume you. There’s nothing you can do about it now unless you want multiple people to wind up dead. It’s fairly easy to erase your mind of anything other than the two guys currently surrounding you, whose relentless thrusts make your vision go white and limbs go numb.
Stu attaches himself onto your neck, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys that’ll last for days. You lean your head back into him, giving him more access to the area. His long tongue licks all around the area, sending shivers down your spine.
His mouth eventually makes its way up to your own and Stu covers it, kissing you with great fervor. His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling it around with your own tongue. The kiss is sloppy and uncoordinated, but it feels perfectly like him. It’s intimate as he massages your tongue and brings his hand up to cup your jaw. In that single moment, you can pretend like your new revelation didn’t exist and that this is just a sensual moment between you and your friend, who’s kissing you like his life depends on it.
But that’s not the case, as Billy brings you back to reality once again. He spanks your ass which has you gasping into Stu’s mouth and your eyes opening wide.
Spit dribbles out the side of your mouth as Stu finally lets up, moaning into your jaw. He gives your neck a big kiss before sucking another hickey into it. “I can be romantic sometimes,” he whispers teasingly into your ear, causing you to shiver.
Billy and Stu pound into you, even harder than before if possible, their hips snapping up against your body.
You know that your orgasm is fast approaching, the various simulations making you feel desperate for a release.
“Please, please, please, please,” your voice is hoarse as you whisper out in a breathy tone to keep as quiet as possible.
“Yeah? You want our cum inside of you?” Billy coaxes you, but you can tell that he’s just as close to reaching his peak as you are given the uneven rhythm of his ruts, pushing slightly against the pattern he had set with Stu.
You nod your head as much as you can, your vision going blurry with the speed you move it. You can feel Billy’s cock throb furiously in you and it's enough to make you reach your own orgasm before him, clapping a hand over your mouth as to not alert your presence to anyone outside.
Billy’s orgasm follows your own soon after, with a strangled moan leaving his lips as his hot cum releases all inside you. The mix of your two juices allows for easier movement within your walls, and after he’s done climaxing Billy slides out of you with ease.
But Stu is nowhere near stopping.
With the result of your’s and Billy’s releases aiding him, Stu ruts himself even further into you. He manhandles you so that instead of your previous position of being twisted in the air as Stu stands behind you, he throws you down on top of the bed and climbs on top of you, humping into you from behind with a newfound vigor.
“Finally get you to myself for a bit,” Stu grits out of his teeth as his hips piston at an immeasurable speed.
You can’t speak at this point, completely cockdrunk from the brunt of the thrusts you’re taking. Stu’s broad body completely engulfs your form as he pounds you into the bedsheets. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and your tongue lolls out of your mouth, only low whimpers and droll being produced from it.
You can hear the squelching of your pussy, the result of Billy’s cum and your juices, as Stu pounds his cock as far as it reaches. You can feel the release escape the sides of your pussy lips with the brunt of Stu’s thrusts and you can’t help but whine softly as some of the warmth and fullness from the cum leaves your body.
Stu’s hand runs through your hair until he grabs it at the base. He pushes your head down completely into the bed, using much more pressure than what was needed. The force of it causes your ass to arch further into him as he presses his front fully against your back, curving his form as if morphing to the shape of your hunched and fucked out form.
“Now that’s a nice view,” he groans out, one hand at the root of your hair and the other pawing at your ass.
Animalistic grunts leave Stu’s mouth and you can feel as he reaches the cusp of his orgasm. Curses leave his lips as he finally cums, pushing himself inside you as deep as he can and hitting parts never reached before. You can feel the jets of his hot release inside of you as it comes out in huge, thick spurts.
When Stu finally leaves your walls, the mix of all three of your orgasms comes flowing out, making you moan at the loss of the fullness from all three of you.
“C’mon now, push it all outta you,” Billy’s voice calls out from across the room, speaking up from his previous silent observer role as he recovered from his own peak.
You obey, squeezing as much as you can with your weak body. You can feel globs of cum escape your entrance, cooling as it runs down your thighs and onto the sheets below you.
You flinch as you feel Stu’s fingers scoop some out of you, and the smacking of his lips indicates he tasted it. You moan, only able to picture what the scene looks like.
“Oh? You want some?” Stu’s fingers hastily appear in front of you. The fingers from his other hand pull your mouth open and he shoves the cum covered ones inside, making you gag instantly. He rams them in and out of your mouth, barely giving you any time to properly suck on the cum. Flecks of the fluid fly out of your mouth along with your own saliva. Tears fall without a warning, your gag reflex working overtime.
Stu’s fingers fuck your mouth until all of the cum is virtually gone from them. When he finally pulls them out, your body completely collapses. It trembles furiously from all the overstimulation, unable to hold itself up.
Stu gives you a big wet kiss on your cheek and slaps his now-limp cock onto your bare ass. You can only whimper in response, your body too heavy to move any part of it right now. Your vision is blurry, but through it you manage to make out Billy, with his sweaty complexion and rumpled clothes back on his body, talking down to you.
“You stay put until we can get everyone to piss off. We’ll be back for round two.”

#kinktober#kinktober 2023#ghostface#ghostface x reader#billy x reader x stu#billy loomis x reader#stu macher x reader#scream x reader#billy loomis smut#stu macher smut#ghostface smut#scream smut#slasher smut#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#slashers smut
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needing space after an argument
SFW
characters: luffy, zoro, usopp, sanji x reader summary: an argument with the boys puts your relationship on hold CW: angst no comfort, breaking up (sanji), reader gets hurt, and over 600 words each
pt. 1 | pt. 2
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Monkey D. Luffy
The Sunny swayed gently on the open sea, the rhythm of the waves doing little to soothe the tension that crackled in the air. The ship’s usual harmony, filled with laughter and chatter, had been shattered by the argument unfolding on deck.
“You’re seriously impossible, Lu!” you snapped, your voice rising in frustration. Your chest heaved as you stared him down, fury blazing in your eyes.
“You keep charging into battle without thinking, and we’re always left picking up the pieces!”
Luffy stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, his straw hat tilted forward. His usual grin—bright and carefree—was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his face was set in a rare, serious frown.
“So what?” he said, his tone almost dismissive. “It worked, didn’t it? We’re fine!”
“Fine?!” you repeated, incredulous, your voice rising an octave.
“Sanji’s limping, Zoro’s covered in bandages, the ship’s a mess, again, and you—” you jabbed a finger toward his chest—“you nearly got yourself killed over some stupid treasure we didn’t even need!”
Luffy threw his arms in the air, his voice growing defensive. “It was shiny! I wanted it!”
You groaned, rubbing your temples as you turned away for a moment, trying to reign in your growing frustration.
“Lu, it’s not about the treasure!” you finally yelled, spinning back toward him.
“It’s about how you never listen to anyone! One day, your recklessness is going to get someone killed!”
The deck fell silent, the rest of the crew lingering nearby, pretending not to eavesdrop as they exchanged wary glances.
Luffy’s jaw tightened at your words, his posture stiffening. His carefree demeanor, the one you had come to rely on, was replaced by something cold and uncharacteristically sharp.
“You’re the only one who seems to always have a problem with the way I do things,” he said, his voice low but cutting.
You froze, staring at him as his words began to sink in.
He took a step closer, his dark eyes burning into yours.
“If the way I run my ship bothers you so much…” He hesitated, as if daring himself to say what came next, but when he spoke again, his tone was firm, biting. “…then maybe you should leave.”
It felt like a slap across the face. The air around you stilled, and for a moment, you couldn’t even process what he had said.
“Luffy,” you said, your voice softer now, as though testing to see if you’d heard him right.
But he didn’t take it back. He just stood there, his face stony, his gaze unreadable.
The silence between you stretched, heavy and unbearable. The rest of the crew watched from their spots, wide-eyed and frozen. Even Zoro, who typically stayed out of these things, had shifted slightly, his hand resting on the hilt of his katana as though bracing for the worst.
You clenched your fists, forcing yourself to swallow past the lump rising in your throat. The sharp sting of his words echoed in your mind, cutting deeper with every passing second. When you finally spoke, your voice was low but steady, masking the turmoil inside you.
“Fine,” you said, the word dropping heavily between you.
Luffy’s eyes widened just enough to show a crack in his hardened expression, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t take it back.
Your voice quivered ever so slightly as you drew in a shaky breath, but you straightened your shoulders, determined not to let him see how deeply his words had cut. “I’ll be gone by tonight,” you said, firm and unwavering despite the ache in your chest.
His breath hitched, and for a split second, his resolve seemed to waver. “No wait—” he said, his voice breaking as he took a step forward, his hand lifting like he was reaching for you.
But you didn’t stop. You turned on your heel and strode toward the stairs, your head held high even as your vision blurred. By the time he worked up the courage to say more, you were already gone, leaving behind a silence even heavier than before.
Roronoa Zoro
The dim glow of the setting sun reflected off the water as you stood on the dock, arms crossed tightly over your chest. The once serene atmosphere was marred by the frustration bubbling inside you as you paced back and forth, stealing glances at the path Zoro should’ve come from an hour ago. The excitement you’d felt earlier now replaced with frustration and disappointment.
Finally, you heard the familiar shuffle of his footsteps, followed by his exasperated grumbling.
“Sorry I’m late,” Zoro muttered as he approached, scratching the back of his neck. His face was impassive, as if showing up an hour after your agreed time wasn’t a big deal.
You exhaled sharply, your patience already frayed. “Late? Zoro, you’re not just late—you’re ridiculously late. Again.”
“I got lost,” he said bluntly, like that was supposed to excuse everything.
“You always get lost,” you shot back, exasperated. “I’m not mad about that—I get it, directions aren’t your thing. But you didn’t think to ask someone for help this time? Or maybe even leave a little earlier?”
Zoro let out a short sigh, his arms crossing over his chest. “What do you want me to do? It’s not like I meant to get lost. I tried.”
“Then maybe next time we can just go together,” you suggested, your voice softening slightly despite your frustration. “That way, we can avoid all this and actually enjoy our dates.”
Your words were meant to be a compromise, a way to avoid another night like this, but Zoro’s face darkened at the suggestion. He scoffed, the sharp sound cutting through the cool evening air.
“Go together?” he repeated, his voice sharp. “What, you think I need you to hold my hand everywhere? I’m not a kid.”
“Zoro,” you blinked, taken aback by the sudden hostility in his tone. “That’s not what I—”
“No seriously,” he cut you off, his voice growing louder. “That need of yours to control everything—it’s annoying.”
You froze. For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped moving, his words hitting you harder than you thought possible.
“Controlling?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. “Annoying?”
Zoro faltered for a moment, his expression shifting as if he hadn’t meant for the word to come out. But instead of apologizing, he doubled down, his jaw tightening. “Yeah,” he muttered, though his voice had lost some of its bite.
Your lips parted as you stared at him, completely thrown. You had only wanted to help, to make things easier—for both of you. But now, he was looking at you like you were the problem.
“I… I didn’t think trying to help you was so annoying,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “I just didn’t want us to keep missing time together because you—” You stopped yourself, shaking your head as the lump in your throat grew.“Forget it.”
“Wait,” Zoro said, stepping forward, but you instinctively took a step back.
“No, it’s fine,” you said, your voice tight as you forced a bitter smile. “If me trying to help makes me so controlling and annoying, then I won’t bother anymore.”
“Babe, that’s not—”
“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice firmer now. “I get it, Zoro. You don’t need me, and you sure as hell don’t want my help. Message received.”
You turned away before he could say anything else, your heart twisting painfully as you walked back toward the ship.
Zoro remained motionless, his chest heavy as he watched you walk away. His hand started to lift, a silent urge to call out to you, to stop you—but it faltered, falling limply to his side. The realization settled in like a weight: in his frustration, he hadn’t just lashed out—he’d driven away the one person who always tried to understand him. And now, he could only watch as you disappeared.
God Usopp
The tension in the air was thick enough to cut through as you sat on the Sunny’s deck, fidgeting with your hands. Usopp had been distant for the past two days, barely sparing you a glance and keeping his responses short whenever you tried to talk to him. It wasn’t like him—not with you.
You stole a glance across the ship where he was working on one of his gadgets, his movements tense and hurried, the usual care he put into his work noticeably absent. You’d been patient, waiting for him to come to you, but whatever was bothering him wasn’t going away.
“Usopp,” you finally called, your voice gentle but firm as you stood and walked over to him.
He didn’t look up. “What?”
The coldness in his tone made you flinch, but you pressed on. “Can we talk? You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I’m not avoiding you,” he muttered, fiddling unnecessarily with the gadget in his hands.
“Yes, you are,” you said, standing your ground. “What’s going on? Did I do something wrong?”
At that, he froze, his fingers tightening around the tool in his hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said flatly, but his voice lacked conviction.
You crouched down beside him, your brows furrowed. “Then what is it? Why won’t you talk to me?”
He finally looked at you, his jaw tight and his eyes flickering with frustration. “Why’d you call Luffy?”
The question caught you off guard. “What?”
“Two days ago, when you were in trouble,” he said, his voice louder now. “You didn’t call for me. You called for Luffy.”
Realization dawned on you, but before you could respond, he continued.
“Was I just not good enough?” he asked, his tone bitter. “Did you think I couldn’t handle it? That I’d just screw it up and get hurt?”
“What? No, that’s not—”
“Don’t,” he interrupted, standing up abruptly and taking a step back. “Just don’t. I get it. I know I’m not as strong as Luffy or Zoro or Sanji. I know I’m not the first one people think of when they’re in danger. But I thought… I thought maybe you—” He stopped himself, shaking his head as he clenched his fists. “Forget it.”
You stood as well, your chest tightening at the hurt in his voice. “Baby, listen to me,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “You are strong and very capable. I called for Luffy simply because he was closer. That’s it.”
But he didn’t look at you, his eyes fixed on the deck. “It doesn’t matter,” he said quietly. “I just… I need some space, okay?”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Usopp, the one who always sought you out, who always seemed happiest when you were by his side, was asking you to leave him alone.
You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sting. “If that’s what you need,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll give you space. But I’m not giving up on this, Usopp. Or you.”
He didn’t respond, only nodding slightly before turning his back to you. You lingered for a moment, hoping he’d say something, anything, to stop you from walking away. But the silence stretched, and eventually, you had no choice but to leave him be.
As you walked away, your heart ached for him, for the insecurities he tried so hard to hide. You could only hope that when he was ready, he’d let you help him see the truth—that in your eyes, Usopp was more than enough.
Vinsmoke Sanji
The evening sun bathed the deck of the Sunny in golden light, but the sight before you felt anything but warm. Sanji stood at the railing, surrounded by a small group of women from the port town you’d just docked in, his eyes sparkling as he lavished them with compliments and dramatic promises of eternal devotion.
You stood at a distance, arms crossed over your chest, watching the scene unfold before you. It wasn’t the first time Sanji had acted like this, and you had always let it slide, convincing yourself that he would stop eventually. But now, the painful truth settled in, and it felt like a dagger twisting in your chest.
When the women finally left, giggling and waving, you stepped forward, your footsteps deliberate. “Sanji,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended.
He turned, his usual cheerful expression faltering when he saw the look on your face. “Oh, my love! Did you see those ladies? They were absolute angels—”
“Why do you keep doing this?” you interrupted, crossing your arms tighter.
“Doing what?” he asked, genuinely confused, tilting his head.
“This,” you said, gesturing toward where the women had just walked off. “Flirting with every woman who so much as glances your way.”
Sanji blinked, his confusion deepening as he processed your words.“My love, what a wrong? You never complained about this before?”
Your jaw clenched, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “That’s because I thought it would stop once we got together. I didn’t think that as your girlfriend I would still have to compete with every pretty women you see.”
His eyes widened, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “But, sweetheart, it’s not like that. You’re not competing with anyone I—”
"It is like that Sanji, and honestly, I can't keep doing this," you interrupted, your voice trembling. "It's clear we're not on the same page when it comes to what’s acceptable in a relationship."
The air between you shifted, thick with the weight of your words, each one hanging in the space between you like an unspoken truth.
Sanji’s mouth opened slightly, his brow furrowing as if he were about to protest, but no words came out. He stood there, frozen, as if the reality of the situation hadn’t fully hit him yet. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he managed to say, his voice a little rough, “Why does this feel like a breakup?”
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. Every word felt like it was trapped, lodged somewhere deep inside, fighting its way to the surface. But you couldn’t hold it back any longer. Your eyes never left Sanji’s face, watching the shock and confusion slowly morph into something you couldn’t bear to see.
“That’s because it is,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible, the weight of the words pressing down on you.
The finality of it echoed in your ears, louder than you ever expected. You wanted to say more, to explain, to somehow make him understand that this wasn’t easy for you, that it wasn’t what you wanted. But the truth was, you had already said everything you needed to. This was the point of no return.
“Wait,” he said, stepping closer, his voice desperate. “Don’t do this baby, please. I didn’t know it bothered you. If I had, I— I would’ve stopped. I’ll stop now. I swear.”
You looked away, willing yourself to stay firm despite the raw emotion in his voice. “It’s not just about stopping, Sanji. It’s about the fact that you didn’t even realize that your actions would hurt me. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t see a problem with flirting with others.”
“Please, my love,” he said, reaching for your hand, but you stepped back, shaking your head.
“I can’t, Sanji,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.
Without another word, you turned and walked away, each step pulling you further from him.
Sanji stood there, his hand outstretched for a moment longer as if he could reach out and somehow make you stay. But the weight of your words hit him like a punch to the gut. He had lost you—not because he didn’t care, but because he hadn’t shown you he did in the way you needed.
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one piece masterlist
question! how do you guys feel about a queer version of the smau’s with fem or gn reader (idrc) for nami, robin, vivi, perona, boa, and yamato?
it’s in my drafts and i’ll still post it when done just wanted to see if the gays see my vision 🤭
i have two more (one request) for angst but i'll have those up soon now that i’m free from the shackles of school.
anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed :).
not proofread and caps may look weird typed this on my phone and computer 😭
(had to re-upload this didn't realize it posted before I was done)
#one piece x reader#one piece headcanons#one piece#one piece angst#op x reader#one piece x you#one piece x y/n#op x you#op x y/n#monkey d. luffy#luffy x reader#luffy x you#luffy x y/n#roronoa zoro#zoro x reader#zoro x you#zoro x y/n#roronoa zoro x reader#op luffy#op zoro#god usopp#usopp x reader#usopp#zoro#luffy#usopp x you#usopp x y/n#vinsmoke sanji#sanji x reader#sanji x you
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