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ajortga · 1 year ago

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i bet on losing dogs

pairing: cairo sweet x fem reader

summary: in which cairo's obsession for mr. miller drifts you two further apart, and you can't do anything about it.

word count: 4.2k+

warnings: angsty (not proud of it) toxic cairo, mentions of sex, mentions of teacher/student relationships

based off request!

Hey... Can I have a request?! Cairo Sweet x Fem!Reader

"I'm done waiting for you, Cairo."

Credits to: urfriendlywriter

Cairo was.. Honestly, you didn’t know how to explain to her. That’s just exactly how to describe her. She was indescribable.

One moment in a day would you be like the teenage girl you are, in love. The beat in your heart would race, fluttering in your chest as she bit the eraser on her pencil, looking at you with eyes that made your legs feel like mush.

Then, another day you would feel hopeless. Helpless. Because the beautiful brown-eyed girl would leave you in the dust.

She would sweep you off your feet, but never care enough to really catch you. Maybe that’s why you kept going back. To feel the thrill, to be loved for just a little moment with the girl you’ll love no matter what happens.

But you had no cure, because she was so contagious. Addictive. She was like a drug that you couldn’t get enough of, yet there was no cure to make you stop. Cairo Sweet. It was in her name. Her genes. She was so syrupy sweet, you just couldn’t help it. You were too blinded to think properly.

The amount of times Cairo swept your feet, you grew tired. Tired of her games, of her love that began to come off as a hoax. As much as you’d want to holler it out loud, you couldn’t say you were tired of her. Never.

The countless moments where you were left in the dust, the rain. No seriously, the rain.

“I’ll be there!” Cairo smiles, your grin wide. “I just need to discuss the essay for my final to Mr. Miller real quick. It should only take 8 minutes max.” The girl assures, rubbing your shoulder as you two e spend our lunch together. You lean into it. A part of you now wishes you could’ve changed it. Maybe you’d feel better not feeling the stabbing pain in your stomach.

“Okay,” you respond softly. “I can’t wait to work on that project with you! I think we’ll amaze her with our studies, then after you can spend the night and we can have ice cream!”

She laughs.

You can’t stop looking at her eyes. Syrupy sweet, not a hint of hesitance. She lifts a cigarette to her mouth, a soft smile on her face. Cairo nods, “We’ll outsmart the whole class with someone as smart as you,” she gives your nose a little boop with her finger before the bell rings.

Quickly, she packs her bags, stopping to look at you from time to time as she stuffs papers in it. Your eyes filled with expression, it comforts her to see the happiness that shines through them. It makes her smile too.

The bell had rang, echoing through the hallways as the doors of classrooms slam open. The empty, hollow hallway is now bustling with everyone chattering and speaking to each other, giggling and laughing.

Winnie is by your side, the wavy hair girl walking with your arm linked to hers. “Cairo seems so into her final for Mr. Miller, don’t you think so?” She has the slightest accent, you slowly nod.

“I guess so. She is a writer after all. Not to mention a talented one.” You go through the exits of Tennessee’s high school, stopping at one of the benches right at the exit. “I’m waiting here for Cairo, we’re going to finish our project, adding all the important stuff.” Winnie nods, handing you a lollipop as you take it. “Thanks.”

“See you, Y/N!”

You give her a small wave, watching her leave.

…

It had been ten minutes since the bell rang, the students slowly beginning to die out. You’d call your mom once Cairo would come, you liked having conversations with her anyway. Chatters of students still quietly linger. You stand up, peeking through the gates, they’re closed.

Thirty minutes pass and a sigh escapes your lips, bored. Maybe Cairo is just having more questions to ask, like she always does. You plop the lollipop that Winnie gave you into your mouth, stuffing the wrapper in your jacket.

It had been officially an hour and four minutes. You don’t even know why you waited this long. As if it couldn’t get any worse, rain begins to drizzle down, damping your hair. For the first time, Cairo left you out there, in the rain. You stare at your phone, gripping it so tightly that your knuckles spread to white. You try to wait for a text, anything so Cairo makes it aware that she’d be a little late, but it never comes.

You call your mom, sniffling as you press your ear to the phone, kicking your feet across a puddle. You wipe your eyes,

By the time your mom honks, waving you with a smile on your face, you weakly give one back, walking up to her. Wet clothes stuck to your figure, drenched and shaking. The look on her face gives it all, your mother sees through you no matter what.

“Hi, honey. Where’s Cairo? Didn’t you say that she was going to come to ours today?”

You stiffen, throwing your soaked backpack in the backseat. Cairo didn’t even live that far. She always walks to school. “She’s busy,” you reply, turning away from her. You look out the window, sinking into your seat. “Like always.”

“But didn’t you two have that project, it’s due tomorrow, no?”

“Well she can’t make it, okay?” You mumble.

“Oh, well maybe she can come over some other time,” she leaves it at that.

The more you think about Cairo, the more you feel sick, the lollipop disintegrated in your mouth.

You can’t help but feel the sweetness of the lollipop leave a new awful taste in your mouth. Your mouth fills with saliva, how it always does whenever you are upset. You swallow it down.

You did almost the whole project by yourself, you were up till 2AM.

So when school arrives the next day, you’re barely awake, turning it in and tired eyes completely avoiding Cairo’s gaze.

“8 minutes my ass,” you mutter while slamming the project into the turn-in basket.

From that day on, it just kept happening.

Like always, you somehow always manage to come back to Cairo. You can’t help it. To turn away those doe-like eyes makes you feel like you just murdered an innocent creature.

Cairo Sweet.

Sourness coats your tongue when her name rolls off of it.

After countless stand-ups and sobbing in bed, even when you forgive her, you can sense that you two are drifting further apart. She’s been snapping at you a little more often, ignoring you sometimes, it makes you feel unloved. You don’t like it. You really don’t like it, yet you can’t stop it.

“It’s that stupid final she’s doing, Winnie. Ever since Mr. Fucking Miller assigned to her, it’s like she hasn’t had time for anything. She only has the time when it comes to him, “ you rant, wiping your mascara stained eyes with your fingers.

Winnie looks thoughtfully at you, a small frown tugging at her lips. She sighs, patting her thighs, “Come here, sweetheart.”

When you crawl in between her and her comforter, she cuddles you. “Sometimes people are like that. They abandon things when they find a new thing to obsess over. Even when the things are the most important to them. It’s like they forget about what the thing did to make them feel so special and go running off to a new one because it makes them feel good.”

She strokes your hair as you sniffle into her neck. From her eyes, you looked so vulnerable. Like how you did when you first got into arguments with your parents. “I’m sure once that final is over, you two will be back into two peas in a pod. Three, including me at times,” she cracks a smile at you.

You don’t respond, looking away, before mumbling, “Winnie, I don’t think it’s that final.”

“Yeah?”

“Cairo was writing about a prompt to answer what love was,” you look up at her, trying to make her understand. “I read some of it, and it was straight up smut, Winnie.”

You couldn’t believe it when you first read it. The way your eyebrows contorted, lips pursing into a tight line. You memorized one of the lines she wrote as you recited it out loud. “His fingers, long and ribbed, glistened with the arousal that gushed out of Alice’s heat like a riverbed-”

“Okay fuck that shit, who’s “he” exactly?”

“That’s the problem. It’s about a student-teacher relationship Winnie. The final isn’t the issue. She’s trying to convince herself that there's some connection between her and Mr. Miller.”

“That man is at least 80 years old-”

“50.”

“Whatever, but if Cairo is trying to experiment how far she can go with her charms. I’m going to be proud to take the trophy for who has the most reasonable crushes.”

“You cannot be talking right now Winnie.”

“Boris is a different story! But like, for anyone else, I’m an equal opportunist. I’d fuck you.”

“I know.”

“See, reasonable crushes.”

You roll your eyes, it doesn’t really make you feel better.

Winnie thinks for a moment, it’s silent, until you almost see a lightbulb flash above her head. “Cairo loves lantern festivals. She wouldn’t miss one for the world, what about this?..”

Your knee bounces up and down, waiting in your usual spot after school for Cairo. It’s the first bench under the tree. As you see her, you’re about to wave, until you see him.

Mr. Miller walking Cairo out of his classroom, patting her shoulder before making eye contact with you briefly. You narrow your eyes as he gives a disgustingly sweet smile to her before turning away. You flip him off, like a fire burning behind your pupils.

Tell your baby that I'm your baby.

“Y/N!” she shouts, grinning as she walks up to you. “Hey!”

“Hi, Cairo.” you greet, offering to take her books, which she thanks.

“I’m almost done with my final essay for Mr. Miller. I think he’ll be able to write my letter of rec for college in the future. Probably going have to meet with him after school on some days.”

“Sounds fine,” you plainly respond, holding her books. “By the way, I was thinking that next Saturday we could spend some time together. Maybe Winnie can come too.”

The writer hums in contentment as you keep going, “I’ve never gone to a lantern festival before, and they’re holding one next week. It’s like 2 hours away and I really wanted to go with you.”

A flutter in your chest erupts as you see your favorite brown eyes shimmer. “Yeah,” she says, “Yes, I’d love to go with you!”

After the slow ticks of the clock and marks on the calendar, getting closer to the countdown, Saturday finally comes.

You hate the way it feels so long when you’re in school, waiting for the weekend, but it dashes by when summer break arrives. You especially hate it when you’re waiting for an event, it makes the time go by even slower.

Winnie kept patting your shoulder and teasing you about it. “Probably because you’re looking a bit too forward with spending time with Cairo.” She’d say. “I mean, I love lantern festivals! But you seem so much more excited than I am.”

An oversized tee gets draped over your figure, pairing it with blue jeans as you try to look decent before dashing out the house.

Your mom drives you, in which you're happily hoping to spend the night in Cairo’s bigger car. She told you she brought blankets and stuffies and everything. When you think about it, you grin through the refreshing breeze that blows in your hair.

“You seem extra happy, Sunshine,” your mom notices, smiling at you. “Just how I love you, always so bright.”

The afternoon sun illuminates through the city as minutes and hours pass, changing into a grassy meadow. You stick your head through the window, feeling alive every time the wind hits your hair. Everytime you close your eyes, you see the picture of endless floating lanterns lighting up the night sky.

Like a scene out of Tangled.

You have to actually turn on the radio and sing your feelings out.

“Now she's here, shining in the starlight, Now she's here, suddenly I know. If she's here, it's crystal clear, I'm where I'm meant to go”

Two hours pass by, and you hop out of your mother’s car. “I’ll stay nearby, okay? Your aunt's house is only 25 minutes away.”

You nod, kissing her cheek goodbye as the clock hits 5:45. The grassy meadow surrounds you, slightly swaying from the breeze and glowing from the setting sun. You see people setting up their tents, so you lay down a towel and send Cairo a text.

y/n: hey! i’m here, i got us a seat. can’t wait to spend the night in your car!

Birds chirp along with the chatter of people around you. It soothes your body a little as you lean back and take a nap, your mind only on the excitement that you get to spend this moment with Cairo Sweet.

You wake up from the sound of fire crackling, your eyes adjusting to the lanterns that people are preparing to let go in about an hour and thirty, when the sun will completely set. The weather is cool, breezy, sunny, and the light blue sky plastered with fluffy clouds. You head to get some floating lanterns, noticing that Cairo isn’t here yet. Maybe it’s traffic.

A nagging feeling tugs in your gut as you hear the giggles of couples decorating the lanterns together.

As you head back with three large lanterns in your hand, you check your phone. No new messages, your shoulders fall to their sides, sighing.

“Y/N!”

You immediately perk up from the call of your name, turning around and seeing Winnie, a bright smile on her face. You wave her over.

“Hi,” you say, looking at her hair that’s put down.

“Hey, cutie, what’s with the sour face?”

The silence is really all she needs as she goes, “Oh. She’s still not here? I thought I was really late.” That made you feel a little worse.

Cairo wouldn’t abandon you, sure she has canceled plans last minute thousands of times, or made you wait longer than usual, but not in the dark. Not in the dark knowing how much you looked forward to this. Your heart tugs again, your breath getting stuck in your throat.

It’s the same feeling your tiny self felt when your childhood best friend moved away, or a thousand times worse than realizing that the tooth fairy wasn’t real.

y/n: where r u? the festival is going to start soon.

Really hoping you’re not going to stand me up again, like the plenty of other times you did. You really wished you could have added that phrase.

6:30 and still no sign of her. You know you’ve cried like a little child because of her, you’ve tried to avoid her in every way possible. Yet no matter what, it always seems that the sweet girl you’ve known comes back to you moments later.

She’s just running late. The tiny voice in your head says, to somehow calm your nerves down. Winnie squeezes your hand, urging you to decorate your lanterns together. So you force the growing lump in your throat with a painful swallow, nodding and beginning to draw flowers that somehow are Cairo’s favorite ones. “It’s going to be okay,” she softly coaxes, and you feel like crying into her arms.

You really thought she wouldn’t do it this time. You really started to believe that she was good at heart for you. Maybe she could be. But you didn’t want to give her the chance anymore, you were officially drained.

The sunset envelopes you and Winnie in its eternal color of the sunshine, though the warm feeling is rather cold. Cold and ugly. You would’ve been used to it, but you drove 2 hours for her. You knew you could count on Winnie, but you traveled so far for Cairo to be able to spend time with her. Now it just seems like she’ll throw you away whenever Mr. Miller is around.

She’ll talk about him almost anytime she can, it makes you feel insecure. Sometimes, you wish you could just shake her brain and tell her, “I’m right here.” You were there all along. You would be there when she needed it, but she was never there when you needed her. A moth to a flame.

Even when your heart cracks more and more, to love is to sacrifice, your broken hand is still holding on. Cairo is the only thing you’d ever know about love.

Even when you tell yourself to get over it, to ignore her, you can’t help the way your heart turns into goo when she smiles at you. I won’t let go yet. You promise to yourself as she crashes her lips to yours, alcohol coating her tongue as you have the need for more.

Take me, your heart sings as Cairo, drunk and wanting, tears the bottom of your blouse, the room filling with your breathy moans.

You need to let go, Your brain pounds against your forehead as you’re left in the dark of the movie theater, an empty seat next to you. A seat that was meant for your hand to hold hers.

Why do you manage to always forgive her? Believe that she’ll be “okay” this time? Why did you always let her in knowing that she would do the same thing once again?

7:30, the lanterns begin to lift off, your eyes half-lidded with unshed tears as you hold onto your floating lantern. Winnie turns to look at you, but you don’t look back, the small ember glistening against your glossy eyes.

She was just late. She’d come. Your heart grows a little heavy.

“Hey,” she says softly, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “It’s going to be okay. Cairo is just stupid, she’s been stupid ever since Miller. But I don’t want to talk about her right now, okay? Let’s spend the night together and we’ll see what to do when it’s over.”

You still avoid eye contact, can you really just feel okay if someone tells you? That’s never worked for you.

A floating lantern symbolizes the hope of the moments ahead and being able to move on. To mark the start of a new beginning. Your eyes flicker to all the children with their family, smiling happily, the couples who are cuddling together as they prepare to let go of their lanterns. Every time you saw something like that, you thought of Cairo. You wondered if she ever thought of you.

I guess fate brought me here, you tell yourself. When your favorite person turns into a memory of a lesson. Gosh, you hated when you saw quotes like that, even worse now that you understood it with each tear that poured out of your eyes.

You cling onto the lantern like it’s the most important thing of your life as you shut your eyes. You think about Cairo, your best friend, someone that you always told yourself loved you. You hope she still did. Winnie feels your head placed on your shoulder as you finally let it go. Finally let her go as it flies away with the specks of others, lighting up the night sky. It was like a reminder that she was slipping away.

Tonight, you thought it would’ve ended differently as you watch it mix in with the glow of other lanterns, other wishes, other endings.

All those times you look into these eyes, even the ones that aren’t hers, you remember that her eyes that once admired you are gone. You’re watching her watching him.

You’re standing here, waiting for something that you knew for a long time might never come. Love’s a game of heartbreak. The latest you could do is slump down to the blanket and toss your body into Winnie’s, closing your eyelids and letting yourself relax. It was cold, yet you didn't bother to ask for a blanket.

“Y/N, baby. We gotta get going.” A voice, soft and sweet coaxes you awake. You're no longer on Winnie’s shoulder, but a lap that you know all too well. You scramble off of Cairo with your eyes wide, blinking, adjusting, before letting yourself cry.

Cairo hasn’t seen you cry in almost ages. Well you’ve never cried in front of her, but knowing that she stood you up again, arriving almost 3 hours later, it tells her a lot of how much you did when she wasn’t there.

Her eyes look at yours that are closed, sniffle, “Hey, don’t cry. Why are you crying? I’m so sorry I missed this-”

“You’re never sorry!” You hiccup, forcing your shut eyes open, “If you were in all the times past, you wouldn’t have left me here again! I had my mom drive me 2 hours just so I could picture myself wishing you were beside me!”

“I-”

When was the last time she made you feel like she actually loved you?

“It seems like you don’t need me anymore, Cairo. You find something else to obsess over and run away when I need you.”

“I do need you,” she argues, looking at you in disbelief. Yet you can see that a part of her knows that you’re right.

“Only when Mr. Miller isn’t here to make you feel good.”

“T-that’s not true!” She stammers, “You aren’t understanding what you’re saying-”

“I always want you when I'm finally fine, Cairo! That’s the problem with you! I can’t stop crawling my way back to you because my heart can’t beat without your reassurance, even if it’s just a sweet glance. But every time I’m standing here, you’re turning me away. And the only way for me to stop loving you is when I’m here, telling you how I’ve felt every single time you’ve left me in the dark for the attention of a 50 year old man that I’ve given you since the start! I’m not some toy that you need at moments- I-I needed you too.” You murmur, looking down, ashamed with the hot tears leaking out of your eyes.

It takes Cairo a moment to pull you back onto her, “I’m sorry,” she tries, her hand around your cheek. “I just.. I didn’t… He failed me on that final and I just needed to know why and I guess-”

“It’s okay,” you say, finally looking into her eyes while you put your hand away from your face. “I tried thinking that maybe it was that final for Miller, that you needed time to write something amazing for your final, like I knew you’d always do. But instead, you made your assignment obsessing over him.”

Gosh you felt so stupid looking back at your naive self. “To see him in the hallways and talking to him while I stood there waiting for you, forgetting that I was even here in the first place.”

Cairo’s silent, eyes pleading as she tries reaching out for your hand, but you pull away. “I’m done waiting for you Cairo. Maybe you can pursue focusing on him more and don’t have to worry about focusing on me.” You bite back a shiver, your body shaking slightly.

She watches you turn away as Winnie wraps you in a blanket. Disappointment flickers in her best friend’s eyes as she helps you walk away. Cairo wishes, oh so terribly that you would turn back, to look at one more time, but you don’t.

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down.

You stop for a brief moment, about to hop into Winnie’s car, before turning to her, looking down at her shoes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t enough, Cairo. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I’m sorry it ended like this, I never met to hurt you.” She wants to say, but bites her tongue as your body slips away from sight, Winnie starting the engine. It was too late now.

Cairo made you wait, made you see a flicker of hope in her candle and she blew it. She made you wait in the cold.

She really wrote her story on your heart. But was it ever a good one? Maybe there were some that lingered freely in your heart, but her story would’ve never lasted like you wanted.

It was rare, she almost never saw you sitting on the same first bench. There were days where she immediately ran out of Mr. Miller’s classroom to push through the students just to go to that bench, to be reminded that you weren’t there to wait anymore. There was no one to wait for her anymore. The spot was always empty.

You’ll always want her when you are finally fine, even when you’d feel like your heart healed, it never would. Because you always needed her. You can’t heal without her.

Now every time your eyes meet in the hallways, you’re the first one to tear your gaze. Maybe it was just for the best. Tear your eyes away from her pretty ones before she tears your heart apart.

You wish that one day, when you meet her when you two are older, she’ll be the person you once knew. Your Cairo Sweet. The one that didn’t leave the sickening taste on your tongue.

#Spotify #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet x y/n #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #cairo sweet #vada cavell x reader #vada cavell x you #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega imagine

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coconutjelly · 7 days ago

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Put a Ring On It, Chapter 1-9

Part 9/10🌶️

Tumblr chrono link

Think Pink AU on AO3

“Holy fucking shit, I cannot believe you’re using this to get me off, or how fucking well it’s working,” I whimper, because it is lowkey a little embarrassing, and I am praying to any available deity that Kon is not listening to this right now.

Tim stops moving his hand, and I am briefly concerned that that statement weirded him out, until he pulls away to look me in the eyes and say, “That’s only the good news. The amazing news is what I’m gonna use to get you off.”

He resumes fisting both our cocks in a much slower rhythm. His cock is hot and heavy and has just enough give against mine to almost feel like fucking a hole, but with the added dexterity of his unbreakable grip. I can feel him throb and twitch against me.

“Please don’t make me guess the amazing news,” I beg. “I’m so fu– so fucking close, Tim.”

“I won’t make you guess,” he says, speaking as lazily as he’s stroking. “There’s no way you even could. ”

He lets his own dick fall from his grip, so he’s only focused on mine, and returns to the sharp, staccato jerking that he knows will get me off. He leans forward to put his mouth right next to my ear, and I know - down to the marrow of my bones, I know - that whatever he says is going to be the most devastatingly hot thing I’ve ever heard in my life.

“I’m gonna take you to see the Batcave,” he breathes.

And…look.

I am a weirdo, okay? I know this about myself, and I’m not ashamed of it. I have odd hobbies and hyper-specific interests, and not enough of a filter between my brain and my mouth, and some mental health shit that makes me not always the greatest to be around, and also a few kinks that are a little niche. Overall, I’ve been off-putting to more people than not over the years, but I personally believe that those who see past it are better off for having me in their life. Or at least that’s what I’ve been working on with my therapist, Jackie. Well, that and various PTSD symptoms.

But Tim has never once made me feel like a weirdo for what I like, in bed or out of it. He matches my freak in just about every way possible, and out-freaks me on several fronts of his own. He doesn’t act like I’m ever too much - too loud, too chatty, too intense, too fuckin’ weird - none of it. Because, hello, if we’re talking about odd hobbies and hyper-specific interests, I can’t out-weird the literal child genius who was so into a circus act that he unmasked the greatest mystery in Gotham’s history.

So I know that Tim would never use my weirdness against me. At least not to hurt me.

He is, however, apparently, perfectly happy to weaponize my weirdness against me to make me come all over his fist and shirt and my goddamn kitchen floor, because that’s what happens the instant I register what he’s just told me.

In fact, I come so blindingly hard that I pull his body in toward mine so I can grind my messy, spitting dick against his, needing the pressure and stimulation to draw it all out. I’m still twitching through the aftershocks with my knees locked tight and crooked on his sides when he grunts and starts grinding back. My hand gets between us in a clumsy but determined motion so I can wrap both our dicks up in a fist. I'm using my own come as lube to jack him off and enjoy the hazy, shocky, over-stimulated sensations of touching my wilting hard-on so soon.

I can usually tell when he comes, just because I’ve seen it enough times to recognize the way his breath and posture change. In this case, I can tell that he’s coming because of that and because his grip tightens on my thigh, and there’s the unique biting pain where I know I’ll have bruises of his fingerprints when I check later. Another weak little aftershock rocks through me, because making the man behind Gotham’s own Robin crack his self-control for even a second always gets me.

#put a ring on it: think pink au #bernard dowd #tim drake is a menace #bernard's therapist jackie will be a recurring off-screen character #timber #timberkon #inspired by think pink by suzukiblu #think pink au

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twistedteatime · 2 months ago

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Howling Witch, Chapter 2: Bait

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Original Fem Character, 1940s!BuckyxOFC

POV: 3rd Person

Summary: To the intelligence community the Winter Soldier is a ghost, but to HYDRA the Howling Witch is a harbinger of doom that will stop at nothing to get at their prized asset. A phantom that leaves swathes of destruction in her wake. She is the biggest mistake they ever made.

Chapter Summary: The trap has been set, the bait is in play, the only question is will he go for it and how will the bait react to it all?

Word Count: 7.5K

Warnings: Language, Canon Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, Gun Violence, Shifting Character POVs, Frustrated and Aggravated Superheroes, HYDRA (HYDRA is a legitimate warning on its own), Light Angst, Self-Loathing, Flashbacks, Vampires (the bad kind. Steve is aware they are real as in the comics Cap fought vamps during the war), Wolf shifters (good though you wont see them shift for a while), if I missed something let me know.

A/N: Out later than I wanted it to be but as I've said a lot the past few days I have a lot going on right now offline. Anyway...this chapter we get to see a bit of the original story between the Howling Witch and Bucky from the 40s. We learn her name and get to see what she was before she was made into what she is and part of how she was made into what she is. It's also extra long because I didn't like where it originally left off so added more.

NOTE: The Female Main Character DOES have a name. It will be revealed this chapter.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING COPIED OR PUT INTO ANY FORM OF AI. (Also if there are typos it's likely my keyboard. I will fix as I find them, because no matter how many times I proofread there's always at least one).

Masterlists: Howling Witch🔹MASTER Masterlist

Previous Part: Chapter 1: The Hunt

Ao3 Link: Chapter 2: Bait (Registered users only)

Next Part: Chapter 3: Trap

She’d have loved to laugh when Natasha kicked Sitwell off the building. Seeing his face react to the laser through the scope had been amusing enough. Watching Sam swoop down and grab him had also been quite entertaining. Yet it was his face paling at the sight of her as she walked out of the shadows that really made her want to laugh.

She loved it when they recognized her and the fear of her permeated their scent.

It was different from the fear of falling to his doom. That was sudden, sharp, sourly sticky yet also swift and at the surface. This was far better.

Deep, slow, and tangy. It wasn’t fleeting. It lingered and oozed out of every pore on every inch of his skin as the recognition flashed over his eyes. Sour, yet sweet. Like it had been aged in a bourbon barrel.

It wasn’t the fear if imminent demise. It was the fear of recognition and the fear of coming face to face with something that you had heard stories of but didn’t think really existed. That you hoped didn’t…or at least that you’d never really see for yourself.

“Y-you…you’re…you’re real.” Sitwell whispered and she nodded silently.

She’d risk laughing if she spoke.

The wide eyes. The way their faces blanched. The way their bodies became rigid. The way their hair stood on end, not that he had any. Still, it never got old for her.

“That…that means he’s…coming. He’s…why didn’t they…they had to have kn-”

“Zola’s algorithm was never very good at calculating me. He could never quite quantify me. It’s gotten close once or twice, but it never could really get a good handle on me…and I’m not alone in this. It’s never been good at adapting to things it does not understand, of which there is plenty” She said as she approached him and he backed up into the brick, “Ooh…look at you…shaking. I’m not going to hurt you. That’s not why I’m here.”

“You can’t stop it. It’s already in motion. HYDRA will have control.” He said and she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

She laughed, short, brief, but enough, “Oh…trust me, my little jelly filled donut, HYDRA only thinks it will have control and that it wants it. HYDRA has no idea what it would really take to control what it wants to really control and then…even if it did succeed…it wouldn’t last because HYDRA lacks something very important for success.”

“What?” he asked, trembling and she just patted his cheek before walking away.

“Get going. I’ll cover you as best I can, but he’ll come out of nowhere. Likely when I’m not in position. He usually does.” She said and stopped before looking at them, thinking, and Steve could see something different, deeper, and more uncertain pass over her eyes, “Don’t hesitate. I won’t.”

She was here.

Ducking down behind the concrete that was what blared through his thoughts. He wasn’t sure who exactly she was, but he knew she was there. She always was.

He scowled.

She always interfered.

No. He would complete his mission. Whether she liked it or not.

She hadn’t been wrong.

The Soldier. He came out of nowhere and she didn’t hurt Sitwell. He did and Sitwell became much more similar to a jelly donut in the most macabre of ways.

She didn’t hesitate, either.

One precise shot. Bulletproof glasses. They had obviously planned for The Howling Witch, or was it that she knew that they planned for her? Sitting in the truck, her shoulder throbbing, Natasha played it over in her head again…and again…and again.

Did he shoot her or was it her?

“Essie. It has to be Essie.” Steve thought, his mind racing, stumbling, running, circling, and trying to make sense of it all, “If The Winter Soldier is Bucky, then she has to be Essie…how is she alive…how is he…”

“Who is Essie?” Sam asked and Natasha looked at Steve for an answer.

“She was part of the SSR. Translating, breaking HYDRA’s codes, and breaking every soldier’s heart that ever got the courage to face her wrath just to ask her to dance, that or their faces…until Bucky.”

“Go on. Go ask her.” Steve urged his friend, practically shoving him through the crowd towards the curly haired blue dress clad brunette standing next to Peggy, her bright red lips turned down in one of her usual scowls.

“You’re settin’ me up for more failure. Is this revenge for the fair? I only told her good things about you, I swear.”

“No. I bet Monty that if you asked Essie to dance she’d say yes and he bet no. I’m not losing to him.” Steve answered, enjoying the sight of his best friend flustered around a woman far too much.

“Because she says no to everyone.”

“No one is you. She tolerates you or she’d yell at you more an’ beat you with a rolled-up map more often. Just…be a man and ask the pretty lady to dance!”

“Funny coming from you. Why don’t you ask Carter?” Bucky asked him and Steve shook his head.

“That’s different. I don’t work with Peggy every single day for hours on end hunched over a map of Europe. I did that once. You two do that every single night.”

“Well, yeah. We can’t rely solely on your memory or just mine with where the bases and outposts are. You only got a quick look and I wasn’t exactly mentally present most of the time up there. She’s the best of the HYDRA Code crackers we’ve got and damn good at pinpointing stuff on the map. Better than that loon Philips had before we were all ambushed. If they actually listened to her we probly wouldn’ta been ambushed but no.”

“See? You don’t shut up about her and you haven’t even looked at any of the other girls here since the first time you saw her in the war room yellin’ at that guy. Ask her to dance. C’mon. Don’t make me lose my bet.”

“Of course I look at her. She’s gorgeous and she’s actually read The Hobbit. Unlike some people.”

“I couldn’t get into it.”

“You didn’t even try. It’s a good book and has a small guy as the hero. What wouldn’t you love about that?” Bucky retorted and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Stop stalling and ask the lady to dance. Don’t make me throw you over there. I will.”

“You’re a punk. Y’know that?” Bucky asked then scowled as he watched another soldier walk up to Essie and look her over top to bottom.

“How ‘bout I show you around the dance floor a few times, sugar?” he asked and Bucky’s eyes narrowed further, lips twitching in a frown while Steve’s curled up knowingly.

“I can see it just fine from here…and my name is not Sugar.” Essie said after glancing at the dance floor momentarily, dismissively, but then looked as Bucky plastered on a smile that could melt a hole through an iceberg while walking up.

“That is not how you ask a lady to dance, private.” He said and the soldier glared.

“And how would you do it, then you’re so smart?” he asked then stiffened as Bucky tilted his head questioningly, waiting, “Sargent.”

Bucky looked at Essie, the perfect picture of confidence and charm, “I would be absolutely honored if you would agree to this next dance with me. Please. I promise I won’t flatten your toes. I’m not Steve. He might be tall and Captain America, but he can’t dance.”

“Hey!” Steve protested as Essie’s red lips curved upwards slightly, then more.

“Well prove me wrong.” Bucky said to him with a shrug of his eyebrows before looking back at the woman before him in blue, hoping she didn’t see the sweat beading on his temple.

She likely did.

“Sure. You’re the only one around here with any manners.” She said with a smile and Steve couldn’t hold back his own at how Bucky’s blue eyes had lit up with the smile on his face.

Pure sunshine and then smug as he looked at the soldier while accepting her hand. Essie just shook her head at him, rolling her grey eyes slightly. Still she was smiling as they walked onto the floor and allowed him to take her waist and hand.

“You’re the first man here to even say the p-word to me all night. Tell me, Sargent Barnes, is it forbidden for the lot of you peacocks to say please?” she asked as they began to move, letting him lead her around the dance floor.

“I can’t answer that for them. Seems like it sometimes.”

“Is that what gets the girls back home? Strutting up, puffing up, saying any combination of words other than please?” she asked and he chuckled lightly.

“Maybe. Maybe they just haven’t adjusted to the higher standards over here.”

“Maybe they should. Gets better results when you wait for a handsome man with manners and good literary taste.” Essie replied with a small smile at him he returned.

“Was that a compliment?” Bucky asked smiling more as he laughed lightly, “From you?”

“Don’t let it go to your head and don’t spread it around. I’ll have to fight off more of your tittering fan club.”

“Fan club? You’re confusing me with Captain America over there.”

“Yes…that’s why all the other ladies and secretaries were practically fighting each other over who got to be your nurse when you walked into camp with him.” She replied smoothly and he looked at her, “Don’t pretend you don’t know women fight over men.”

“Well, between you and me, hasn’t felt like I’m the center of their attention since getting back.” He said and she laughed lightly.

“Sure, Steve Rogers is a tall, muscle bound, chisel jawed, strapping, strong, daring, brave man…and sure that gets plenty of the girls around here fanning themselves whenever he walks by…but there are plenty of others far more interested in his best friend. You know…the one that doesn’t risk flattening their feet, the one that Peggy doesn’t angrily shoot live bullets at, the one that…seems to have a bit more sense than a rabid badger in a golden retriever’s body…”

He laughed, deep, resonating in his stomach and chest, “Oh…you don’t even know half of how right you are about Steve.”

“I beg to differ, Sargent. You don’t know about the grenade incident.” She retorted and he looked at her then glared a few moments later at Steve across the dance floor as he smiled while talking with Peggy.

She watched that smile fade then looked over. All she saw was a smile on Essie’s face and a glare on Sargent Barnes as he charged over. That smile on Essie’s face was mischief. Pure mischief. The look on Steve’s was fear.

He started backing up towards the door, “I gotta go. Right now. Rain check.”

Then he was out the door and James Buchanan Barnes strode past her like a man on a mission. Essie walked up soon after, still smiling. Satisfied.

“What did you do? Couldn’t you just dance with the man?”

“I told him about how Steve jumped on a fake grenade back in New Jersey thinking it was live. He tried to tell me I don’t know how stupidly brave your boyfriend is. I proved him wrong.”

He returned eventually, face set with frustration, exasperation, struggle. No mask of charm. The mask was off. It stayed off even as she sat down next to him.

She didn’t say anything. She just sat there, silently, save for the occasional refusal of a dance. The music played on. Light, swaying, smooth, and high. Something meant to lift the spirits of the soldiers, take their minds off the battlefield, the horrors they had seen. Ones they had endured.

It worked for the most part. For some, it didn’t. It never would, but for most, it provided a well-deserved return to some semblance of normalcy. Something bright and clean to swallow them up in warmth and soothe away the grime of war, pain, and the unspeakable.

“I don’t…I don’t understand why he’s so…desperate to walk out there and…get himself…” Bucky eventually said as he stared off into nothing, blue eyes distant as he jerked his hands into the air, fingers gesturing explosively while Steve observed from around the corner.

“It’s the type of person he is. Big as his body is now…it’s still not big enough to hold in him. He’s a good man. Makes mistakes, but everyone does. He’s not stupid. Not really. He knows the risks, but to him they don’t outweigh the rewards. He’s not in it for glory. He just wants to do what’s right and protect people.” She said calmly and smiled at him softly, “I understand, though. He’s your brother. You’ve spent years protecting him and then he grew into a tall and shiny man and rescued you.”

“He’s not shiny.”

“You weren’t there when he came out of the chamber. He was very shiny. You should have seen Peggy’s face. Well…most women’s faces. Mine was even notable. Mostly confusion. I honestly didn’t expect it to work, and even if it did I didn’t expect what he was to come out as he is now.” She said and he nodded then licked his lips briefly, disbelief etched across his face, “What?”

“So you’re trying to tell me that you didn’t instantly fall for Captain America?” he asked and smiled while looking at him.

“I’m not a magpie. I require more than a man being shiny. I’d like one with manners, can dance, knows how to read, and knows I’m not just some dumb broad named Sugar.” She answered and Bucky smiled gently as he looked at her, studying her face, “We never finished our dance, by the way.”

“You distracted me.” He retorted, lips crooked up in a smile she shared and looked back at her once he glanced at the dancefloor; then he stood and offered her his hand, “Let’s finish what we started, though. Wouldn’t be right to leave you with only half a dance.”

So close. SO CLOSE.

He was gone again. Just like every time before. Steve hesitated. Just that extra moment. That was all it took for the programming to kick back in and he was gone again.

He’d be back though. They’d send him back out soon. She was going to make sure that they did.

This hunt wasn’t going to fail. It couldn’t. Hesitation or not it could not fail.

She sighed and took the victories she could out of what had just happened. It wasn’t all in vain. It proved she had chosen the right bait. Steve hesitated but it wasn’t over yet, and it wasn’t nothing.

It was something and Essie really couldn’t blame Steve for his hesitation. It was a shock. One she’d felt before herself. As desperate and frustrated as she was…she couldn’t blame him for hesitating. That’s what she had to tell herself. All of it.

Don’t get angry.

Focus.

It’s not over yet.

Focus.

Do what you have to do.

Let no one stand in your way.

Then burn it all to the ground.

“Where are they now?” She asked as she walked through the tunnel, pulling her cowl and hood down, goggles long since discarded now that she was back in the dark.

Where she belonged.

“They’re on their way, Alpha. Close. We tried, but the best we could do was the news helicopter. Delta flew there as fast as she could. Hill got loaded into the transport and let us know she has them. They’re on their way. So is Delta she had to put the copter back.” Tanis said as he walked with her, sharply pulling the tie free and off with a soft growl.

“I’m surprised she didn’t crash it.” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as they walked, Tanis a half step behind her, and he nodded.

“You and me both.” He agreed and held up a ringing phone, “Pierce is calling again.”

She took it and answered it, ignoring the angry scolding shouts coming through it, “I told you not to underestimate Rogers. I told you I didn’t want an extra team. I told you I work alone. You overplayed your hand, Pierce, and you interfered in my methods of doing things and you clearly didn’t brief the Asset on what he was hunting! Then you LET THEM GET IN MY WAY!”

Tanis flinched as she shouted into the phone. It was better for her to be shouting at the man she really hated instead of him, true, but it still hurt his sensitive ears. A lot. It did from the very beginning.

Gorgeous. That had been his first thought upon seeing her hauled into the then Alpha’s throne room. Then pity. He knew what the former Alpha did to anything pretty that he liked. He was the Lowest of the Low, he was just too strong to be put where he belonged…not on a throne with that smirk as she was led in on a chain with a collar around her neck.

She was broken. Shattered at the soul. Silver eyes that screamed of years of suffering only to suffer even more.

She was an offering. One the Alpha had taken pride in receiving from the dark-skinned stranger in return for their services. One he underestimated.

That they all did.

She was beautiful and shattered…but they were wrong to think she was broken beyond repair. Beyond resistance. Beyond guile, trickery, and Challenge.

Far from it.

The Alpha had laughed when she Challenged him for leadership there in the throne room. He praised the stranger for bringing him something entertaining. At least until the stranger spoke.

“She’s not joking…and she’s Hungry.” He said with a small smirk, his fangs evident as he looked over his sunglasses, “Feeding Day.”

Feeding Day.

Words they soon had ingrained into their very beings. Words they associated with the sticky metallic smell of blood and the shrieking sound of their former Alpha screaming.

Words to fear. Words to celebrate. Words that earned his respect followed by actions that cemented his loyalty.

So he dealt with the shouting. She had every reason to shout. Frustration, anger, disappointment, and the need to sell the narrative.

A narrative that saw her blaming Pierce for their actions.

He had to bite his tongue at that.

“Then…then…then you let a FUCKING NEWS COPTER IN THE AREA! You could have gotten rid of Rogers, Romanoff, that bird guy you didn’t tell me about, and the Asset you’re so clearly eager to sabotage and get rid of if you had just locked down the airspace! There’s reports of a vigilante maniac flying around the city in a pair of metal fucking wings and you don’t think to restrict the airspace or send in air support?! What the hell is he? You never told me about him! Instead…in-in-instead, you let a fucking news copter fly over and broadcast, LIVE might I add, your team of thugs about to execute the public’s favorite golden boy!” She shouted into the phone, shouting Pierce down into a silent, and no doubt fuming, submission, “Or is it that you were hoping I wouldn’t notice so you’d have someone else to blame? Crossing me is the worst mistake you could ever make, Pierce…and it will be your undoing. I promise you that.”

“Threaten me again and I’ll add you to his list.” Pierce growled, enraged, threatened, and she smiled.

“Go right ahead. He’d have to find me before I find you. I’d avoid windows from here on out, Pierce. Unless they’re the triple thick ones in the Triskelion where you are right now…pacing back and forth in front of your desk.” She said calmly and then hung up when he started to speak again, cutting him off; she pocketed the phone after texting into it, calm, collected, and focused, “Let’s hope he actually has big enough balls to do it.”

“He’ll wipe him again, first.” Tanis reminded her and she nodded with pained sigh.

“I know.” She said regretfully, “They’ll wipe him again if he mentions Steve anyway but they can’t put him on ice again. That will change the process.”

“Your reasons are your own for doing this way…but when the hunt is over…what then?” he asked and she looked at him.

“The hunt was only ever the beginning, Tanis. You weren’t there when Eric had to walk me through the years adjusting to what I am, hiding, accepting the reality of everything that happened and that I did. Getting him out from HYDRA…that was only ever the beginning. It was never the end. Even if by the end…we part ways again…at least he’ll be free. At least he recognized Bucky was a name, at least there was recognition when he looked at Steve. Fleeting, but something.” She said and he nodded, silent, something that did not fit well with her Gamma, “Say it. Your silences are just as loud as Ruun’s.”

“If, and I am not saying he will, if he decides to leave…to Reject you because of what you are now…will you survive it? You’ve been hunting him longer than you’ve been leading us. He’s your Mate, I don’t question why you’ve been hunting him so long and I’m not…questioning your ability to lead, just…will you be okay?” he asked as he looked at her, amber eyes concerned, not for his leader, but for his friend, “Should that come to pass?”

It took her a moment to answer as she looked at him, studying him as if she were committing his face to memory. It was something she did often. Not just to him but to everyone.

His sister described it as being like she was looking at you for the last time, every time, just in case. Tanis was never able to look at it any other way since then. She was right.

“I survived losing him once, Tanis. I’ll survive it again if I must. I know you’re not questioning me. Stop that. I’m Alpha, not a tyrant like the last one. Not like that. You should know that by now.” She said and he smirked slowly, shifting gears as he saw her silver eyes dimming down to steel.

“Well…Pierce might not agree with that statement…you were kind of a bitch.” He said and smiled more as he saw her eyes shift and glint and her lips twitched up briefly.

“Sometimes…you need to be a bitch to achieve your goals.”

“Does that include you shooting your Mate in the face?” Tanis asked and she looked at him.

“If I know the bullet won’t go through the glasses…yes. It was a lower caliber and it was never going to go through in the first place. Just enough to ding him and piss him off. He’d have been fine. I’ve done it before.” She said as they walked through the tunnels, voices up ahead she recognized.

“What about…” he started and gestured down the tunnel.

“What about what?

“You shot me.” Natasha said as Essie and Tanis walked in, “It couldn’t have been him. The Soldier. It had to be you from where I was.”

“It stopped you.” Essie said as she pulled up a chair and slid it towards Tanis before sitting herself on an old filing cabinet above him.

“You almost killed her.” Sam said as Steve just stared at her, his head still obviously swimming in shock and confusion.

“Almost, but not quite. The bullet he’d have fired into her skull would’ve.” She said as she sat back against the wall, “The Winter Soldier doesn’t miss. Neither do I.”

“Bucky.” Steve said as he looked at her, “Bucky doesn’t miss.”

“That’s not Bucky.” She said and he shook his head, “That is not Bucky, Steve.”

“Yes he is. That’s Bucky. I grew up with Bucky! I know who Bucky is!” he retorted, scowling, nostrils flared.

He was out of shock.

Essie knew what was next.

She’d gone through it herself.

“What the hell is going on?! How…I went into the ice…you…Bucky…you shot him! Bucky loves you, Essie, and you shot him! Do you even care what you could have done?! YOU SHOT-” Steve started while standing and then Tanis plugged his ears; Steve realized it a little too late.

“THAT IS NOT BUCKY!” Essie snarled and Steve recoiled, eyes wide as he paled and sat back down.

She knew why.

Her teeth. Canines. Top and bottom that sharpened and extended into something inhuman. Her eyes. Silver that caught the light unnaturally for a human at the best of times but when angered produced their own light and glowed with a rage that was barely contained at the worst. Her voice. Not just shouting but snarling, she felt it vibrating through her chest and throat as it came out.

Not human.

Other.

“I am not the Essie you remember. He is not the Bucky you remember, Steve. Not anymore.” She said taking a deep breath in, willing her teeth to recede, “Bucky…he’s still in there. I know he’s still in there. Today proved that. You hesitated. You let him think too long, but…you made him think. Bucky is still in there but right now…he is not Bucky. That man…is The Winter Soldier. That is not James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. Not your best friend. Not my man. That is the Winter Soldier. I am not the Essie…not the Esteria Stark you remember anymore. Peggy never told you what I did…after you told me what happened on the train…did she?”

Steve shook his head, yet Sam spoke.

“Maybe…maybe we can back the hell up a bit? What the hell even was that guy? He had a metal arm. A metal…fucking…arm.”

“Steve doesn’t like that kind of language.” Fury said and Essie looked at him, “Just saying. Surprised he isn’t yelling about cursing with ladies present.”

“You do understand that Steve was in the army…during a war where SNAFU was invented…right? He’s heard all of it. So did I. It just wasn’t as common as it is now, but it was still there. Not on official records, but there.” she said and Steve let out a short laugh.

“Good luck telling her to mind her mouth. Won’t work. I remember the shock on Dum Dum’s face the first time she and Bucky got into an argument in front of everyone over that girl that touched him. She let out every word in the book.”

Essie scowled.

“It wasn’t funny. She was a threat. A real threat. Not a threat to the relationship, just in general. You were a covert unit. She was such an open book she was a walking billboard with boobs.” Essie retorted and Tanis snickered quietly, shaking his head, and she looked at him, “You’d have been all over her so don’t you laugh about it, Tanis. Just your type. Pretty, blonde, green eyes, long legs, bouncy boobs, always up for a good time, and dumb.”

“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?”

“No.” she said and Natasha couldn’t take it anymore.

“What are you? What is The Howling Witch? How did you become The Howling Witch?” Natasha asked and Essie looked at her as did Fury, “How is he here…with you? I think we’re owed some answers. That Steve is owed some answers. Your name is Esteria Stark?”

“Not that Stark.” Nick said, “I made that mistake, too.”

“Everyone does. It became an inside joke with Howard at some point before things happened.” Essie said, checking her watch, and Steve glanced at her yet remained silent, “Stark is no more a unique last name than Rogers, Wilson, Barnes, Pierce, Roberts, Ross, or any other. Mine is Germanic in root. From what you now call Germany. I lost the accent a long time ago…just as you lost your accent of birth a long time ago. My accent now…it shifts depending on where I am and what I talk about.”

“You’re German?” Sam asked and Steve answered.

“People often forget that the first country Hitler invaded was Germany.” He said and she nodded quietly before speaking again a few moments later.

“Bucky asked me one day why I did it. Why I was there with the SSR. Not flirting. Not the stupid: ‘What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?’ nonsense. He just asked because he wanted to know…” Essie said softly, eyes shifting as the memory slipped its bars.

They had been going over the map. Again. For hours. Long past the time everyone else had left for the night.

It was late, her neck ached from the angle it had been bent at going over the European map and translated transmissions she had been working on all day. HYDRA’s code changed again.

They didn’t use the same code as the other German forces did. They had their own special homebrewed one steeped in mythology, numbers, and insanity. Took a while to crack through, but eventually she did and went to retrieve Bucky.

It was part of a routine. One they’d had since nearly the very beginning when he first came back from the base with Captain America and agreed to help. Peggy and Steve had brought him to her where the map was so she could pick his brain about what he had seen while under Arnim Zola’s “care”.

Peggy had warned her he was a flirt and might be a bit tanked since she found him in a bar. Steve just looked at her, a bit nervous about leaving his friend there with Essie after the outburst she’d had with someone else being less than useful. He didn’t deny what Peggy said about Bucky being a flirt or even possibly drunk.

He wasn’t, though. Far from it. Setting eyes on him it turned out he was quite alert. Alert and observant.

He’d seen quite a lot during his time as one of Zola’s subjects. His memory of it was spotty at times as he’d been delirious a lot of it, but it was still there. Once something was committed into his memory it was there…it just took some nudging.

Sometimes physical nudging if he got too distracted.

“Ow! What was that for?!” he asked, rubbing his head with a sharp look at her, “You’re damn violent, y’know?”

“Stop focusing on me and focus on the map. Staring at me isn’t going to help you remember anything.”

“You don’t know that. Starin’ at you might unlock the secrets of the universe for all you know.”

“James. Focus. Where on this map could they be sending the next shipment to? Where are the little cockroaches they are running to next?” she asked and he scowled a bit.

“Bucky.”

“James. Right now, you are James…or do you want me to demote you back to Sargent Barnes? Or better yet, soldier boy?” she asked as she glanced at him, tired, her accent slipping from fatigue, and he looked at her.

Really looked at her like he was trying to see who she really was. It was invasive, as if trying to see into her depths; to see what made her tick. It made her tense up as she waited for the question. She knew he heard the shift. It wasn’t the first time, but he had never looked at her like this before.

“Why are you here? Doin’ all this? Puttin’ up with…all of this? The…soldiers, the men, the other women that talk about you? I know you’re a German, Essie. I know you hide it. I’m pretty damn sure I know why, but why are you doing this?”

It wasn’t a new question. She was asked it often. She rarely ever gave anyone a full answer. Yet, as she stood there at the table with him, Essie found the answer coming past her lips before she knew it as she pointed at a spot on the map.

“I was born here. In a little village far away from the politics and the secret meetings of Berlin deep in what you call The Black Forest. We didn’t have much. No one did, but we managed. The village was remote. Off the beaten path despite everything that happened in it during the war.” She said and Bucky frowned as he listened, blue eyes locked on her face while she lightly traced the outline of the area. “People didn’t leave the village much, but they did occasionally. My aunt was one. She married an English businessman just before Hitler took over. I don’t know how they met. I was never told, but when it…he happened…I was with her. She invited me to visit. To see more of the world, so she said, so I was in England when it happened. We received a letter from my Papa. ‘Don’t come back. Stay there. Stay safe. We love you.’ That was the last time…we ever heard from them.”

“What happened?”

“We found out later that HYDRA…Schmidt…burnt it to the ground. The whole village and took everyone.” She said and his frowned deepened with the plummeting of his stomach, heart aching and breaking as she continued, “They took my mother, my father, my older brother…my little sister. The whole village. Every last one from the newest of babies to the oldest of the elders. Every…last…one. HYDRA took everything from me. They take one more thing from me…and I will go out there myself to hunt them down and gut them like the pigs they are. That is why I do this.”

Bucky tapped the map, pointing at one of the bases Steve had pointed out with his left hand while his right gently took hers from where it was still tracing circles against the surface. She looked at him while he squeezed softly. Then she looked at where he was pointing.

“The facility was big. They wouldn’t have risked sending anything that big out too far without proper cover. Not with our guys in the sky up there even after Schmidt blew it to hell on purpose. They’d go back to recover whatever they could from as close as they safely could. Here. They’d head here.” He said and looked at her when she squeezed his hand back, “Whaddaya think?”

Essie looked at translated code she had and nodded, “It’s…likely. HYDRA doesn’t like giving things up.”

The room was silent as she finished speaking. It was momentary. Tanis knew it was only momentary as she collected her thoughts, memories, and words. It was a story he knew well from his many years as her Gamma.

It never got easier to hear or to think about even if it explained so much to him and others about why she had come to them, fought for them. It even explained why she was so adamant about remaining hidden and keeping their passages hidden even when not in use.

“I wasn’t bluffing. They took yet another thing from me: Him. They took Bucky…and I had enough. I was done with sitting around in a tent or a bunker or a base hunched over a desk. They needed people…ones that knew the language, the customs, the terrain to go into the forest.”

Steve looked at her, frowning, “Essie, I…”

“The Black Forest is thick. Dense. Difficult to penetrate even when it isn’t made into a defensive wall. They’d already spent roughly six months fighting one battle that saw over 33, 000 allied casualties. They wanted to prevent more so when I offered they accepted. Especially since I knew how to work a rifle and was a ‘damn good shot’. Peggy knew, Dum Dum knew and Monty knew. They begged for me to not do it.” She continued and locked her eyes on Steve’s when he looked at her, “I told them not to tell you.”

“Why?” Steve asked, frowning, “I…”

“Because you’d only blame yourself even more than you were and like you are now.” She answered while looking at him, “Bucky wasn’t your fault. He still isn’t and I am not your fault. None of it, none of this, is your fault. No one knew. They kept everything hidden about why they took my village. We knew they were running experiments after the castle, but we didn’t know what for. Until I found out when my partner, a backstabbing cunt, betrayed the entire unit to her lover…an officer under Himmler himself.”

Steve grimaced, so did Fury, “He was almost as obsessed with the occult as Schmidt was…” “Mmh…yes, and they had found the research notes from Castle de Krake that we couldn’t find. She was so happy to hand me over. I was the last one from my village. She hit me pretty hard. Then she spent days taunting me about how superior and loyal her lover was compared to Bucky before we arrived. I had the last laugh in the end. She handed me over and he put her in the same cell as me as a ‘control sample’. Something to see if the process would work with anyone or if HYDRA was onto something and not just insane thinking I had to be someone specific. The war was all but over by then…not that it mattered to them.”

Pain. So much pain. Burning. Inside. Cold. Outside.

Her blood felt like it was boiling yet she was shivering as she lay strapped to the gurney. Tubes. So many tubes running in and out of her body. Red with blood that went in and that went out. So much blood.

Then another needle.

Track marks dotted up and down her arms in such a multitude they blurred together. She didn’t feel a sting. She barely felt the metal plunge into her skin, but she felt the injection.

She always did.

Liquid fire flooded into her system and a scream burst past her lips.

One of them protested, “But the Fuhrer-”

“Forget that. It doesn’t matter now. We’re almost there. We almost have it. What they failed to do. If we can wake up the dormant potential in her…imagine what we could do to others! Imagine what we could do with her if the mixture takes hold and integrates with her on a cellular level. She’s perfect. Everything, Hans, everything we put in she adapts to. It’s beautiful to watch.”

“They went through an entire village for you?” Natasha asked, her tone dry yet hoarse, and Essie’s lips turned upwards slightly as she shook her head.

“No, little spider, they went through my entire village…one…by…one…until I was the last one left. The only one left. Steve and the others found some of the reports in Castle de Krake.”

“Everything they did to them…they did to you?” Steve asked and she nodded.

“Yes. Everything. I just happened to be the one to survive ‘The Awakening’. They weren’t trying to recreate the super soldier serum Erskine made. What they concocted was to reawaken what we now know to be dormant genes in my genetic code. Ancient ones that tied the entire village to a race of hidden, deeply misunderstood, people.” She replied and took a deep breath in, “Most people confuse them with werewolves, but they’re not what you think of as werewolves. That is a more involuntary thing. A Wolf is born. Not made. Unless you’re me, but even then I’m not a full Wolf.”

“You’re enough of one.” Tanis said as he glanced up at her calmly, having been sitting silent until this moment, “It doesn’t matter what else they shot you up with. You are enough of a Wolf for us.”

“Be that as it may, Tanis…truth is that I am not a full Wolf. I don’t even really know what I am. Even after 70 years of being…this…I don’t know what I am. I’m mostly Wolf, but there are other things, too.”

“You could find out…” Fury said and she scowled.

“I am not submitting my blood into any of your databases for investigation. I had enough of that in Germany and enough of that after. No more.” She retorted and checked her watch again.

“You got a date, or something?” he asked and she looked at him flatly, “Just curious…”

“For a man with a collapsed lung and no accelerated healing factor…you’re very talkative.”

“Considering it was your boyfriend that fired several slugs into me…I think we still need some more answers.”

“Considering you’re annoying…I almost wish he aimed higher and that I didn’t offer you a place to hide.” Essie retorted seamlessly with a smile at him and several blinks of her silver eyes, “I don’t particularly like recounting the endless experiments that turned me into this or what I was when Eric found me.”

“Eric?” Steve asked, thinking.

“The vampires you fought back in the war screamed about him by the name of ‘Daywalker’.” She said and he nodded that it was familiar and Fury spoke.

“Blade. He doesn’t work well with others.”

“He can when he feels like it, which isn’t exactly often.” Essie said and went on, “He was part of the Secret Invaders that went after a U-Boat made with cursed metal and other things that got possessed earlier in the war. You’d think they’d have learned to stop messing with things they couldn’t control or understand at some point, but no. They never did. It’s like they just had a collective thought of: ‘Yes. We are puny humans but let us mess with the occult, supernatural, extraterrestrial, and everything in between! It’ll be fiiiineee.’ Ugh. Anyway, he’s not very sociable, but that is the price he pays. He’s the one that found and got me out. I’d love to tell you all about it, but I don’t personally remember much of it.”

It was Tanis that spoke next when it was clear they didn’t want to let it go just yet, “He told us about it early on. Said he was tipped off about a base where they did ‘some pretty fucked up shit’ to people. The tip off was right. She was the only subject there by then. The last one left…in a cell…with three of their largest soldiers trying to hold her down as she screamed. He was going to intervene when the tables turned and he said the next thing he knew was that they were screaming for him to help them. ‘I’ve seen a lot of fucked up things, but that was a new level’.”

“What are you?”

“Hungry.” She answered, blood dripping down from her hands as she licked at them, sucking them clean until feral silver locked on the plate set on the table in front of him.

Blood dripped as she reached through the bars at it.

Slop.

That’s all it was.

“Hungry!” she snarled, panting desperately as she strained towards it, her body pressing into the bars harder and harder, scraping the skin, tearing it as she reached, “Please. So hungry. So hungry.”

Vampires didn’t beg for food. Not when there were three still warm bodies to feed from. Teeth weren’t right either.

He picked up the plate. Then the keys.

A mistake.

He was fast, but so was she.

“I vaguely remember locking him the cell and interrogating him while eating what they called food. Somehow he convinced me to let him out. I honestly don’t remember how. I just remember it being a few days later when I asked what his name was while holding a skewered rabbit he had cooked over the fire and handed me. I remember him wincing a bit at the crunching because I ate the whole thing, bones and all.” Essie said and hopped down off her perch, “Delta should be getting back soon. I’m going to go debrief her.”

“I can do that.” Tanis said and she shook her head.

“No. You stay.” She answered, silver locked on amber for a second yet it was enough for Steve to see something pass between them, silent and understood as Tanis nodded.

“Yes, Alpha.” He said and waited for her to leave the room before speaking, “She’s not going to talk to you about everything. It took us…about…two years to get the whole story out of her and we didn’t enter her story until about 23 years ago.”

Natasha shifted in her seat as she looked at him, “Then maybe you can fill in the gaps. Why is she codenamed Howling Witch by HYDRA if she wasn’t made by them? I found a file on her once in a database, it was mostly redacted, then it was deleted. She won’t answer anything directly.”

“Would you? You’re Red Room. We know what that is. That you are one demanding clear answers and transparency…well…it’s a bit funny, honey.” Tanis replied as he sat in his seat, head cocked to the side as he blinked playfully yet also seriously, “The scientists responsible for her ‘Awakening’ were using HYDRA research and methods, but only scraps they’d picked up from the wreckage or smuggled out from other bases. There was a lot of fighting between divisions. They’re responsible for only half of what she is. Eric busted her out from the SS facility, spent a few months with her, getting her stabilized enough to take her around people, and took her back to England. To their pre-cursor to SHEILD. So he thought. Guess who they really were.”

Steve sighed and shook his head, “HYDRA.”

A/N: Long but needed. Next chapter will be up, hopefully, Thursday. I might have things to do on Friday. There's a lot of...uncertainty about this week with my schedule so just bear with me. The next chapter will be shorter, more like the first in length.

I appreciate every like, kudos, bookmark, and view, I sincerely do, but if you really want to let me know you want more of this: comment, reblog to share my work, send asks, tell me.

Masterlists: Howling Witch🔹MASTER Masterlist

Previous Part: Chapter 1: The Hunt

Ao3 Link: Chapter 2: Bait (Registered users only)

Next Part: Chapter 3: Trap

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monktwo · 3 months ago

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Part 12 of The missing piece series

So you’re staying?

It was strange how two weeks could feel like a lifetime.

Not because the days dragged — they flew. But in that small stretch of time, everything shifted.

You’d scored goals with the B team. You’d linked up with Alexia and Pina like it was second nature with the A team. You’d tracked back in defense beside Ingrid and earned a wink from Mapi when you won the ball clean.

You hadn’t just played well — you’d fit.

And off the pitch? You were home.

Ingrid had asked you one Thursday morning, half-asleep with her head on your stomach: “So… are we official now?”

Mapi, from where she was brushing her teeth, had yelled, “We’ve been official since I let her steal my hoodies!”

You hadn’t argued. You just grinned and nodded and kissed them both.

Everything felt… right.

Until the meeting was scheduled.

Then, suddenly, it all felt very real — and a little terrifying.

—

You walked into the glass conference room wearing clean jeans, your nicest shirt, and nerves like steel wool under your skin.

Pere Romeu was already seated. Calm, warm.

Laporta walked in a minute later with a wide smile and a strong handshake. “Y/N. Good to see you again.”

You smiled, gripping his hand just tight enough. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

To your right sat your mamma — hands folded neatly, eyes taking everything in.

To your left, your mami, dressed like she’d just walked out of a Fortune 500 photoshoot. Her tablet was already open, stylus poised. Ready.

The meeting began smoothly.

Pere spoke first — praising your tactical awareness, your balance, your coachability.

“The technical staff has been deeply impressed,” he said. “And not just by your skill, but by your attitude and the work you put in.”

Laporta took over then.

“Your ability to blend with the team, to understand our play philosophy, is rare. You’re already one of ours.”

You nodded, listening — trying not to squirm in your seat.

Then came the offer: a two-year contract, with a performance-based extension option. Full training with the A team. Media and sponsorship guidance. Language support, if needed.

And housing — the temporary home you’d been staying in could be yours long-term. It was close to the training grounds, secure, in a good neighborhood.

That’s when you froze.

“I—” you started. “I’m not sure I can live here alone.”

The silence that followed wasn’t judgmental — just quiet. Careful.

“I mean… I can,” you clarified. “But I don’t want to.”

You turned to your mamma.

“Can you stay?”

Her eyes softened, but her voice stayed steady.

“Sweetheart… I would, in a second. But I can’t take your sister out of her life back home. She needs structure. School. Friends.”

“But I need you too,” you said, and it cracked out before you could stop it.

“I know,” she whispered, reaching for your hand across the table.

“I’m not trying to be a baby,” you added, blinking hard. “It’s just—this is huge. I don’t want to leave you. You’ve always been there to help me figure things out.”

“You’re not a baby,” Laporta said gently. “You’re human.”

“We anticipated some need for family integration,” Pere added. “And we’re open to solutions.”

Your mami leaned forward then, calm as ever.

“We discussed this last night. I travel here regularly. I can stay at the house during those trips. And my wife—”

“I can fly in for long weekends,” Hanne finished. “Once a month. Minimum. We’ll figure it out.”

You stared down at your hands. Then up again.

It wasn’t what you’d dreamed of. But maybe it was enough.

“I don’t want to delay this,” you said quietly. “This is what I want. i don’t want more speculations on if I am signing for another club or more of this media drama. I just want to know my family’s with me.”

“You’ll never lose us,” Hanne said.

“And now,” Mami added, passing the tablet across the table, “you’ll have a club that believes in you, too.”

—

You signed the contract with your hands still a little shaky.

Laporta stood immediately.

“Welcome to FC Barcelona,” he said again, this time like it meant forever.

Pere smiled.

“You’ll report back in two weeks. Take this time to finish your exams. Pack. Say goodbye on your terms.”

You nodded.

Hanne pulled you in for a hug the second the meeting ended.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.”

And when you stepped out into the hallway, Ingrid and Mapi were both waiting, practically vibrating with excitement.

“You did it?” Ingrid asked.

You nodded.

Mapi squealed and pulled you into her arms.

“¡Vamos! You’re ours on paper now!”

You buried your face into her neck and exhaled.

You were officially a Barça player.

Still a little terrified.

But mostly?

Excited.

Keep reading

#woso #barca femeni #ingrid engen #mapi leon #mapi leon x ingrid engen x reader #mapi león #reader insert

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bryngmemoney · 2 years ago

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✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: none

Writing at the end!!

🪡Chapter Ten: Late

You had been sitting there long enough, and under any other circumstances you would have left by now, but a part of you was hopeful that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. Plus it gave you time to work on your other model’s practice garments, so you were at least productive with your time. A bit of your suspicion was confirmed by Nobara’s singular “Megumi’s on his way he says he’ll explain everything when he gets there” text. If he didn’t arrive within the next ten minutes however, you agreed with yourself that you’d leave.

Coincidence that at that moment you heard the doors slide open, revealing Megumi, who while he still held himself together with his calm demeanour, he seemed a bit out of breath. “I’m so sorry y/n, I swear it wasn’t on purpose,” he began before even giving you the chance to greet him. “I was filming with Yuji, but I ended up giving him and his friend a ride and they took longer packing up, then there was traffic and I forgot my phone so I couldn’t answer I hadn’t even realized I did till Yuji asked me where it was in the car.” Processing the information he had just told you, you thought before responding. He seemed to slowly grow more anxious with every passing second waiting your reply.

“It’s okay, I mean you’re here now so we can just get it over with.” You turned to go get his outfit only to feel him grab at your hand.

“Let me make it up to you,” and once you were face to face you could see he looked more nervous than he did a minute ago, more nervous than you’d ever seen actually. “Let’s,” he took a second to gather his thoughts before continuing, but decided that if he wanted to keep whatever progress he’s made going forward with you, he needed to do something or at least try to do something to make it up to you. “Let’s go get dinner, on me, i’ll take you out.”

Was he asking you out on a date? “Like right after this?” “Yes, it can be-” he then remembered about Yuji he had left in his parked car, he couldn’t say it was a date if he had to bring his friend along. He could go home and drop him off, but that would just force you to drive along with him back and forth. He was thankful Junpei lived on campus, at least it made it only one person to worry about. “Well, do you mind if Yuji tags along?” he asked before even thinking of another way to get rid of his roommate. “Yuji Itadori?” Well it was too late now, “It’s just, he’s my roommate and dropping him off would just-” “It’s okay Megumi, I don’t mind, we can go right after I make sure these fit you.” That eased his nerves a bit, “Okay then, sounds good,” he replied while smiling.

Author’s Note: better late than never ig🤷🏻‍♀️ also dw megumi will find his phone

hope you guys enjoyed!

Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz

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expanding-hyrule · 11 months ago

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Hey there! Expanding Hyrule needs your help!

This is a budding community and I am only one person running it at the moment and I’ve only got so much energy in a day. Even less right now. No joke, I opened the EH Discord and then immediately got knocked out by con flu for two weeks, still pending recovery.

Which is where you come in! The Internet is massive and it’s impossible for me to get the whole thing archived for this niche all by myself. So if you know works in any medium or creators in any medium who would fit into the “Original Legends” niche, send them my way! The list currently compiled only got set up because of one post that happened to get some traction. Imagine what we can do with a community working together on it! There are way more creators in the space than I currently have on the list and I need your help to find them! This niche has never been organized before and it’s only going to get organized with a team effort! So let’s get to it, adventurers!

What is “Original Legends” as a LoZ niche?

The "Original Legends" tag is a temporary tag for stories about Hyrules thus unseen. So based on the franchise as a whole and not any particular game. The community is not yet big enough to run a vote on a final pick for a tag, which is where you all come in! We're currently gathering ideas on the Discord and off this blog, so if you have suggestions, let us know! The poll will run off this blog once we have a bigger following.

Does it include sequels or Links Meet?

So this is where I need to be a little pedantic. Because technically, yes, both could be Original Legends. But. Because right now this community needs to build a strong central identity for what the core of "Original Legends" means, there may be more scrutiny for whether they get added to the archives.

The thing about direct sequel and Links Meet works is that they have tags they can rely on, chiefly the game they're a sequel to or the Links Meet tags, those are both recognized tags across fandom. There is no tag currently for the full "Original Legends" niche, so for the time being it needs to become prominent enough in the fandom to stand on its own first and then we can add wider definitions. So not a full no, you're welcome to still use the tag if you think your work applies, but for the official archive lists here, it's a not yet while we establish what this tag is first.

Where do I send works I find?

You can send them as reblogs, asks, submissions, DMs, or just plain old @'s to this blog. Some of the lists do have to have manual additions (the blog archive, the Discord list, the Wattpad reading list), so it is better if you make sure I'm aware it's being added so I can update all lists accordingly.

For art, because we're trying to keep the archive list a little more manageable, be sure to see socials and tags you use for your project. I will try to include some pictures, but you will make my life a whole lot easier if you can send me the ones you want in the gallery specifically. Ones that scan scale down nicely are better so we can again keep that list more manageable to scroll through.

What if I’m a creator in this space?

Please reach out! I'm trying to follow everyone here on Tumblr to make sure I get updates, my main is @amelias-hart and my LoZ alt is @amelias-zelda-calamity-quintet. You can ping any three of those blogs when you have updates, sending them in asks, submissions, or DMs as I'm the only moderator on this blog at present and those are open. If that changes for this blog, then the other blogs listed will still have DMs.

We also have a Discord open if you'd like to connect with other creators in the space and you can share when you post there. I set up events for people who upload on a schedule as well for anyone who like reminders that way for when fics in our archive are updating.

Are there other ways I can help?

Share this blog! On and off of Tumblr. In order for us to organize a tag like this within the whole of such a massive community, we need eyes on it and I simply do not have the reach or budget to make that happen without help.

Long term, if you have Discord experience, I will need help running that eventually, as well as the blog. If I put too much of this work on myself, then I won't have time to write either! And I'd rather not get stuck in that again. Keep an eye on the blog for news on that, I've got not idea where or how that process will start.

But the biggest, check out the works in our archives! It's very hard to coordinate and share a work that falls into a niche like this without the use of the main community tags, so a lot of these creators have been struggling to find their audience for years. Community support changes that, which begins and ends with each of you. Be the kind of fan you would want for yourself. We're all just nerds on the Internet, so we gotta look out for each other, yeah?

What if I was added to this space and I’d like to be removed?

If for whatever reason you would like your work removed from the list, contact this blog or any of my alts if there's an issue getting in touch and I'll remove it. I will ask for some verification that a work is yours so people can't take other people's works off the list, but if you don't want to be in the archive, I'm not going to force anyone stay in it.

Can you tell us a little about yourself?

Sure can! Hi, I’m Amelia (she/they, 28), you might know me better as amelias-hart or, if you’ve been around my works a second, echosound. I started writing Original Legends fic back in 2012 with a work called Goddess of Secrecy, which I just managed to wrap up this summer (I may have gotten stuck in the Temple of Time in 2017). GoS got its start on Wattpad and I’m now expanding my horizons on AO3, so I’ve got a lot of learning left to do! Thank you for your patience while I am!

#zelda fandom #zelda fanfiction #loz art #original legends #loz: original legends #legend of zelda #loz zelda #zelda #legend of zelda fanart #loz #tloz

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onceuponapuffin · 1 year ago

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Fanatic Intervention Part 18!!!!!!

I haven't been able to write for a week and it made me all squirrely.

Alright so the vote was for a weird roadside attraction, and I got THE MOST AMAZING recommendation. Just as a reminder, I do take requests for this fic :) This particular attraction was suggested to me by @hummingbee-lievable and I mean, I just couldn't say no. You'll understand why when we get there.

Here are some links to the music mentioned, in case you haven't ever heard it and want to :)

Vivaldi's Four Seasons

Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture

Let's do this.

Beginning || Previous || Next

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

Approximately 8 hours.

That’s how long you’d been driving for.

Aside from a couple bathroom breaks, and a quick trip through a fast food drive through (Aziraphale complained until you managed to persuade him to try french fries and a chocolate shake – suddenly he became positively fascinated, much less whiny, and much more fun to be stuck in a car with), the five of you have basically been on the road non-stop. You’ve all run out of things to talk about, the playlist has been shuffled and reshuffled often enough that you’re becoming able to tell the difference between the different concertos and symphonies that Aziraphale added. The SUV, roomy as it is, is becoming stuffy, and frankly you’re starting to feel sore in places that are going to make the next 20 hours of this...difficult to say the least.

“Okay,” You say, breaking the silence, “Honestly, I get that we’re on a bit of a time crunch, but if we don’t stop for a real break soon, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“What,” snorts Crowley from the driver’s seat, “You mean you’ve had it this whole time? I am shocked.”

You stick your tongue out at him, and lean over into Sardis’ space to make sure Crowley can see it in the rearview mirror.

“Now, now,” Aziraphale says soothingly – he doesn’t fool you, you can see him smirking, “I’m very certain we can find a suitable place to rest for an hour. Some fresh air would probably do us all some good.”

Oh, so he’s getting restless too. Good to know you have Aziraphale on your side with this one. Sardis is already tapping around on his phone, and you glance over to see him googling the area. Thank someone. Anathema has her nose in a book, but gives a thumbs up to show that she agrees with the idea. So it’s basically unanimous. Sardis very quietly taps you and discreetly shows you his phone screen. You look over, figuring he must have found something and….oh.

OH BOY DID HE EVER.

It takes actual work to play it cool. If you don’t do this very carefully, you won’t get to see this glory in person. You nod at Sardis, who winks in return. The plan is set.

“I’ve found an art museum nearby,” he says. You can see Aziraphale’s face light up.

“Oh! That sounds lovely! Perhaps they have a cafe!”

“And maybe a gift shop!” You add hopefully. Best to sell this hard.

Crowley sighs. “Yeah fine, whatever. Just give me directions, would you?”

“Sure thing,” Sardis replies.

To cover your bases, you take you phone, and turn on Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. Aziraphale, utterly delighted by the turn of events, begins humming and conducting the non-existent orchestra. He loses himself to the music relatively quickly. Between that, Anathema in her book, and Sardis feeding Crowley directions one at a time, you’re off to the races.

As you get closer, you start to see signs advertising it. Crowley snorts once or twice, but doesn’t seem any the wiser as Sardis directs him. It isn’t until you pull into The Truck Yard that you can see his eyebrow raising in the mirror. And it isn’t until Sardis instructs him to park in front of the building that it seems to click. Aziraphale doesn’t notice until you turn off the music.

“We’re here!” You sing triumphantly.

“Are you serious?” Crowley asks.

“Oh most definitely,” You reply. Then the demon starts to laugh, and kicks open the door with a snort.

“Right, okay, come on then!”

Aziraphale hasn’t moved.

“Perhaps I’ll stay here,” he says.

“NOPE!” Crowley calls, crouching to look at Aziraphale through the driver’s door, “You wanted an art museum, angel, you’ve got one!”

Aziraphale groans and gets out of the car. He leans heavily upon the door as he closes it. “Yes,” he said, “But I hardly think this counts as art!”

“Think of it as modern art, angel!”

“...All the more reason for me to stick to the traditional sort.”

“As long as it doesn’t stick to the bottom of your shoe, am I right?” You say, because you just have to join in. Sardis laughs and Crowley snorts, and the three of you lead the way into Barney Smith’s Toilet Seat Art Museum. Aziraphale and Anathema follow behind, pretending not to know you. You spin around and walk backwards so that you can watch the two of them as they approach the door of the building, which features Roman-style pillars built out of toilets. Aziraphale glances at them with a sigh, but Anathema raises and eyebrow and goes in for a closer look.

“Huh,” she says, clearly impressed, “Actually, that’s really clever.”

“Ugh,” says Aziraphale, clearly unimpressed, “Vulgar is what it is.”

You enter the building, and find floor-to-ceiling toilet seats. They cover every inch of wall, an absolute punch to the eyes, and yes, it is beautiful. It is glorious. You let out a low whistle.

“Look at you,” You recite, because any opportunity to quote the show is one that should be taken, “You’re gorgeous.” You notice both Aziraphale and Crowley glance in your direction briefly, but you don’t elaborate, so they both look away while you take the opportunity to notice the tiniest of blushes between them. Ha. Softies, the both of them.

“It really is,” Sardis replies, oblivious, “I’d call it downright glorious.”

You look up, and then run back over to nudge Aziraphale. “Hey, Aziraphale, look at that!” You point upwards. “There’s some more traditional art for you!”

He follows your gaze, but is, as you predicted, still disgruntled. “Is that...Michelangelo??” Painted upon the high ceiling is a recreation of Michelangelo’s painting The Creation of Adam. However, this particular adaptation features a closeup of the hands – with God handing Adam a roll of toilet paper.

You hear Crowley snort. He comes over to you and Aziraphale just so he can say to you “Most useful she’s ever been, eh?”

“CROWLEY!” Aziraphale exclaims in disgust.

“Demon,” he replies with a smirk, and saunters away. With a giggle, you follow him to where Sardis is standing.

“Hey, Witch!” Sardis calls, “Here’s one for you! It’s all about Astrology!” He looks over his shoulder, and you follow his gaze to where Anathema has started looking at the seats with curiosity.

“I’ll be there in a minute!” she responds. You see her lean in for a closer inspection of the piece in front of her.

“You are really good at this road trip stuff,” You say as you turn back to Sardis. “Did you spend a lot of time on the road with your siblings?”

“Nah, but there were a few dinners where someone had to calm things down.”

“I can imagine.” You go quiet for a while before something occurs to you. “You know, you barely know us, and you’re a lot more...open about things that I would expect, well, anyone really, to be.”

Sardis shrugs. “Well who am I going to share with? Philly was the only one I still talked to.”

You think about your first impressions of Sardis. Someone who likes to play games, someone who takes things half-seriously, but would probably monologue if you let him. Oh. He’s lonely.

“I want to trust you Sardis,” You say after a minute, “I just...I’ve been disappointed by enough people in the past that I’m still trying to decide if I can.”

He nods. “No hard feelings, Moth. Trust is a hard thing, and it takes time. So by all means take yours. Just do me a favour and put up with me in the meantime, eh? I haven’t met many humans willing to trick both an angel and a demon into visiting a toilet seat art museum with me.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but smile back.

“Oi!” Crowley announces, “Angel! Come look! This one’ll perk you up! It’s got sheet music on it*! Get it?? SHEET MUSIC!”

You and Sardis both burst out laughing, and you wander over to see this masterpiece. Anathema is coming too, and she’s also giggling even though you can tell she’s trying not to. Even Aziraphale has cracked a smile despite himself.

“Really, Crowley,” he says with a shake of his head. The angel sighs. “Right, let’s see then.” Aziraphale pulls his tiny glasses out of his pocket and puts them on his nose. Then he leans in to inspect the classical music that has been collaged onto the toilet seat, plastered beneath the title “Cannon Ball.” He hums to himself as he inspects the notes, and after a moment he starts to conduct to himself. Sardis has come and joined in, so now the full group is watching Aziraphale in anticipation – waiting for his verdict. After a minute or two, Aziraphale leans back, takes the glasses off, and polishes them with a cloth from his pocket. “It appears to be an excerpt from Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture. Specifically the bridge, which is famously known for including cannons as a musical instrument.” He glances up at you all sideways, the tiniest of Michael-Sheenian smirks upon his lips. “It is indeed, sheet music.”

No one is able to contain their laughter, not even Aziraphale.

By the time all of you head back to the car, everyone is in much better spirits. Aziraphale admits that it was a good idea to stop here after all, even if it still isn’t his idea of art. Overall, the car feels much lighter and happier than it had a few hours ago, so you bask in it. Even after the toilet jokes fade away, the mood stays. For the first time since New York, things feel light and the challenges ahead of you feel manageable.

Sometimes you just gotta stop and smell the toilet seat.

And no, I will not apologize for that line.

* My Dear Reader, I need to pull you away for a minute to quickly tell you that I have never been to this incredible museum, so I have no idea if this particular piece actually exists. But I had to, you understand. I just HAD to.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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fiyaerrigan · 7 months ago

Note

wait hang on all of these options sound cool as hell. can i be greedy and get a 🦸‍♂️ and a 🕑, please?

re: this post

(be greedy all you want with these, lol! i know i take forever to answer them but unless i'm really in a slump for the specific fic i WILL try to answer for all the fics included in an ask =D)

🦸‍♂️ for the Superpower AU feat. nonpilot!flying!tommy, mentor!bobby, and a buck who might literally have too much of an effect on the people around him.

Here's some of the aforementioned mentor!bobby, now with a shocking lack of dialogue tags bc i am a lazy fuck!

“You can't force yourself to feel the same as someone else,” “Maybe you can't, old man, but last time I checked, our powers work differently.” “They're similar enough. Why don't I backtrack on that last bit? Maybe then you’ll get it through your thick skull: under no circumstances should you force your empathic abilities. That's how you get people killed.” “C'mon, no one's gonna die because I had to stretch my feelings a little to save them. I'm saving them. It's not like I'm gonna decide it isn't worth it mid-link and leave them to the wolves.” “It wouldn't be up to you. Your version of ‘stretching your feelings’ means putting yourself in danger just to link up to victims we could've reached anyhow. Add the stress you put yourself under to the fact that you can barely get a solid hold on five vics at once—you're gonna wear yourself out sooner or later.” “So you were lying when you told Judge Grant you had faith in me.” “Oh, I wasn't lying, kid. That faith’s just tempered with a healthy dose of skepticism, because for some reason you insist on amping up your fear response to the point where your heart’s two seconds from beating out your chest.” “Don’t exaggerate, okay? I get the memo. I’ll dial it down—a little bit—from now on.”

bone apple teeth? onto the next fic!

🕑 for the Time Traveler!Tommy fic feat. fall out boy title inspo, pre-118 buck, post-breakup tommy, and probably smatterings of the former tommy/abby engagement

this is (unfortunately) just a very small bit of dialogue, but I wanted to post it anyway since I had to sideline @itsthecityoftheflower @the-obnoxious-sibling @sunsetandevningstar and @ladyeyrewrites who all asked for 🕑in a previous post

“Hey,” came a voice to his left, and Tommy’s gut filled with pure, unadulterated dread. “Lakers Guy! Didn't think I'd catch you somewhere without sports coverage." Oh, you had to be shitting him.This was a completely different bar from last time! It was practically on the other side of the continent, as far as L.A. was concerned. “I, uh, had to call it quits at my last job," Evan Buckley Point Zero-Nine explained. "Owner couldn't afford the rent, but that's the beauty of pop-ups, right? I've got guaranteed employment—at least until summer rolls around. Anyways!" He clapped his hands together and slid something over to him. "Here's a drink, o-on the house. Wouldn't wanna make you run out so soon.” Tommy grimaced. Well, I’m gonna be running out anyway. Sorry about that. Himbo Evan was oblivious to the dismissal. And, yes, Tommy had to call this version of Evan a himbo, for the distance it added between them if nothing else. It was only right in this freak reality where his worst nightmares seemed to come true. —Including the nightmares where Tommy had to be an asshole, whether he liked it or not. “Wasn't sure what your typical poison was,” Evan—Himbo Evan—went on, “but I did remember it came in a pretty bespoke-looking bottle—” Here, he shot Tommy a look he definitely didn’t know was flirtatious. “Let's hope my educated guess paid off.”

*meme voice* it's not much, but it's all i have? alas. hoping inspo for this fic comes easier now that i have SOMETHING written down lol

I thrive off feedback please if this makes you feel any way TELL me in the replies or w/e I'm BEGGING youuuuuu

LIKE this if you want to be added to a tag list for either fic! REBLOG to specify which tag list you'd like to be added!

#911 abc #911 show #bobby nash #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #weewoo time travel tommy fic #weewoo superpower fic #my post

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janetbrown711 · 1 year ago

Text

Tonight at Eight

Both Pigsy and Tang have blind dates tonight at eight, and there surely isn't anything suspicious about that at all

Ao3 Link

Pigsy dried off a chili-sauce stained bowl with a well worn washcloth and an eye heavy on the clock. It was barely 3:00 pm, but all Pigsy could think about was how he was closing up shop around 6:30 for a very, very important… date.

Heavens, it felt so embarrassing to admit to himself. Here he was, ill-tempered Pigsy, owner of the well-loved business Pigsy’s Noodles, father of a five-year-old, someone fully convinced his life had ended ten years ago, going on a date.

It felt childish, and it didn’t help that he’d basically dropped the idea of romance and love since Sandy–

No, he wasn’t going to think about that. He had something good to look forward to for once, and he wasn’t going to let the past ruin it… yet. Maybe. Who knows?

Pigsy sighed, adding the bowl to the clean pile and scolding himself for acting like such a teenager. He had work to do.

“You alright, Pigsy?” Tang asked innocently from his place at the bar.

Pigsy went to answer, but instead his grandmother laughed from the booth where she and Xiaotian were sitting.

“Jiejie is planning on closing early today for a ‘special event’.” She grinned at her grandson, who felt like he could just die at this point, but decided scrubbing the grill would be more productive.

“What? Psh, that’s impossible! Everyone knows Pigsy would rather die than close before ten,” Tang teased with a cheeky grin that made the chef roll his eyes.

“Bullying is reserved for family or paying customers, Tang,” Pigsy retorted.

“I’ll pay his tab then, Jiejie. Goodness knows that boy needs some meat on his bones.” His grandmother snorted and Tang turned pink, all while Xiaotian giggled.

“So– um–” Tang cleared his throat to ease off the embarrassment, “What’s this ‘special event’?”

His grandmother scoffed again and joined Tang by the bar, which Xiaotian was quick to follow with his crayons and coloring book in tow. “Good luck getting an answer out of him. He won’t even tell me.”

Pigsy rolled his eyes. “Can’t a man have privacy anymore?”

“Ahhhh, but if you don’t tell me, what will I talk about with the ladies at mahjong?” His grandmother shook her head, which made Xiaotian giggle more.

“Oh, does that mean it's something embarrassing?” Tang fully hopped onto the teasing bandwagon.

“No, it just means it’s personal, is all,” Pigsy huffed, eyeing a customer as they walked in, and made his way to the register.

Tang laughed before his eyes went to his book. “Well, if it helps, I’m going to do something totally stupid and embarrassing tonight too.”

At that, Pigsy’s grandmother’s eyes lit up, and she took Tang’s hands into hers. “Like what? Dancing? One of those American rodeos? What?”

“Ah, well–”

“Sir? I’m ready to order,” said the woman across the cashier, and Pigsy shook his head to focus.

“Right, right– what can I get for you?” he forced a customer-friendly smile.

The woman ordered some beef chow fun, and by the time Pigsy started cooking again, Tang was on the brink of a confession.

“Come on, after all the meals I’ve bought for you? To support that big brain of yours? It’s bad enough little Jiejie is acting like his father right now.” She shot a dramatic glare at the chef, before turning back to Tang. “Must you add to my pile of old-womanly misery?”

“Alright, alright, fine. I’m… Heavens, this really is stupid, Miss Xiahui.” Tang covered his face with his hands before taking a breath. “I’m… going on a blind date with someone I’ve never met, and I don’t know what they look like, or what their name is, or literally anything else. I’m going to get murdered, aren’t I?” Tang blurted out, making the chef’s grandmother laugh.

“I’m very excited for you, dear! You know, I’ve been trying to get Jiejie to sign up for one of those ever since he dumped Wujing, but does he take my advice? No!” She gave an exasperated sigh.

“Not true. I opened up this place because of you,” Pigsy retorted from where he stood by the stove.

“Oh, sure, but when it comes to clothes or photos or vacations or even a park I think Xiaotian would like it’s all ‘oh that’s too far,’ or, ‘I’m dressed fine’ or even, ‘this makes me look ancient’,” she snipped right back.

“I know you never left the forties, Lǎolao, but the rest of the world has.” Pigsy rolled his eyes.

His grandmother sighed again. “You see what I put up with Tang? No respect! And I actually deserve it, unlike some people.”

“R-right! Well– at least no matter what, we know that my night’s plans are definitely more embarrassing than Pigsy’s, so…” Tang fiddled with his sleeves like he always did when he was nervous.

“A night of romance is nothing to be embarrassed about. Why, my late husband used to take me out dancing at this old French-style café– I think it was destroyed by the Red Guard though, which is a real shame, you know, it was the romantic spot in the city.” She sighed dreamily.

“That sounds wonderful, Miss Xiahui. My date and I are just meeting at this one restaurant by the park” Tang smiled and got back to his noodles.

“If I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you’re ruining your appetite,” Pigsy’s grandmother chuckled.

“Can’t let him know I’m a complete mess, right?” Tang laughed pathetically.

Pigsy rolled his eyes and teased, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I think it’s fascinating you can eat so much and manage to keep that whole ‘starving Victorian orphan’ look.”

Tang snorted. “Thanks.”

Pigsy winked and laughed before going back to check on how the noodles were doing.

“Oh, don’t mind Jiejie, he’s just jealous because he hasn’t had a date in six years.” The elderly woman patted Tang’s knee.

“For your information, I actually do have a date, and it's tonight, so you can cut out that whole teasing routine,” Pigsy quipped without thinking, and he could practically hear his Lǎolao’s jaw drop and eyes sparkle.

“You have a date tonight too?! Oh, this is just wonderful! Who’s the lucky person? Are they rich? Do they know you have your own business? Have you gone out with them before? Were they cute? Why wouldn’t you tell me about them! Jiejie, how could you not tell me you’ve been dating someone–! Are they actually ugly, and you were embarrassed to tell me? Look, it’s okay, Jiejie, sometimes it really is what’s on the inside that–”

“Lǎolǎo, please.” Pigsy turned and pleaded with her, pouring the customer’s noodles into a bowl and adding the vegetables.

“Oh, Jiejie, I’m just so happy for you, is all! My sweet little sunzi out in the world again! Maybe you can even find little Xiaotian a mother or another father! Oh, wouldn’t that just be lovely.” His grandmother hugged the coloring child, who looked around in confusion.

“Lǎolao, you’re going to crush the kid.” Pigsy’s face was dark red as he rang the counter’s bell and called out the order.

“Come on, I need some answers here. You know how boring my life has gotten since retirement,” his grandmother pleaded.

“Not much to say. It’s the first date, and I haven’t met them, either. Also, I thought you said you understood that I’m not Xiaotian’s–... you know,” Pigsy looked away as the customer took their food.

“Oh? A double blind date! Isn’t that lovely.” Lǎolao clapped her hands, completely ignoring his comment about Xiaotian. “Where to?”

“Some place they recommended.” Pigsy shrugged. “I don’t know much about it, but I don’t get out much.”

“Oh, this is so exciting! I almost wish I could tag along with both of you, but I have to take care of this little monkey man.” His grandmother smiled at Xiaotian and began to tickle him, filling the restaurant with loud squeals of delight.

Pigsy rolled his eyes with a chuckle, going to wash some dishes in the sink when he noticed Tang looking at him, tilting his head curiously. “What’s up?”

“Oh–! Nothing! I just– a date, huh? That’s huge, congrats.” The scholar smiled softly.

“Ah, it’s no big deal, really. I just… I don’t know. Heck, I don’t even know why I agreed to do this whole ‘blind date’ thing. It’s so strange not even knowing the person’s name,” Pigsy confessed.

“Hear you there. But in a way, I think that makes it easier to get to know them, you know? No images, fake names, it’s… comforting, in a way. Especially with the whole ‘background check’ feature so you know it’s less likely for anyone to be a serial killer, haha,” Tang rambled.

“Yeah, I guess that’s part of the reason I signed up too. I mean– that, and because I seriously never go out. Not that I necessarily want to go out more, but you know what I mean.” Pigsy snorted.

Tang laughed. “I do.”

Pigsy smiled before shaking his head and getting to those dishes.

“So… what’s your mystery person like?” Tang asked after a minute of dishwashing.

“Oh– well, you know… they seem real smart and stuff,” Pigsy hesitated to admit, glad to stay facing the sink, so Tang couldn’t see how red his face was becoming. “They’re kinda poetic too, but not in a traditional sense. I don’t even know if they know just how smart they are, it seems kinda natural to them. I dunno.”

“Oh, interesting.” He heard Tang laugh nervously. “I hope you have fun.”

After his face stopped feeling so hot, Pigsy finally asked, “What about you? What’s your mystery man like?”

“He’s really super sweet and considerate, you know? Not very technological, but– heavens, he always knows what to say. He’s also super funny and snarky, and he makes me feel all smart and important, which is crazy because like– it’s just me.” Tang blushed and looked down at his bowl. “He has no idea I’m practically broke. I’m kind of scared to bring it up, you know? Like– ‘hey, let’s go to dinner! Oh, and by the way I can’t afford anything so it’s all on you!’” Tang sighed. “I should probably just cancel…”

“What?! You can’t do that,” Pigsy immediately protested, getting his grandmother’s attention once more.

“What are you two talking about now?” She looked back and forth between the two of them.

“I was– ummm… considering canceling my… date?” Tang gave a sheepish smile, and Pigsy’s grandmother smacked him upside the head.

“Shǎchā! You are not doing that!” She scolded the scholar.

“Wha–?! Why not? I’m flat broke. I can’t even buy a garden salad,” Tang huffed, resting his elbows on the bar.

“So?” Pigsy snorted. “The payment is being lucky enough to enjoy your company, nothing more and nothing less. If he doesn’t accept, run out of the restaurant. Take his wallet if you can. Make him pay.”

Tang laughed. “That’s easy for you to say, anyone would be lucky to date a five-star chef.”

Pigsy rolled his eyes. “I am not a five-star chef–”

His grandmother interrupted him with a scoff. “My recipes are much better than anything that can be found in those froufrou places with the marble floors and glass ceilings– especially with your additions, Jiejie.”

“Gotta agree with your grandmother, Pigsy. Your recipes are one of a kind and anyone would be lucky to go out with a chef as amazing and talented as you.” Tang smiled with so much earnestness it made Pigsy’s cheeks flush again.

“Well, I think anyone’d be lucky to go out with anyone half as smart as you,” Pigsy countered, making Tang hide in his scarf a bit.

His grandmother had something of a smug look on her face when Pigsy glanced at her, but she quickly cleared her throat and started talking to Xiaotian about his drawing. The chef sighed, shaking his head and vowing to one day fully understand that woman.

“So… what time are you closing?” Tang ventured to ask.

“Around 6:30 to try and get some of that dinner rush money before kickin’ everyone out,” Pigsy glanced at the clock yet again.

“Smart. I’ll have to leave around 6 anyway to get ready and all too.” Tang fidgeted with his scarf.

“You going to want another bowl before then?” Pigsy couldn’t help but smirk a little.

“Har-har,” Tang rolled his eyes. “... but yeah, maybe.”

Pigsy laughed. “Don’t stress yourself, it’s a big day for us both.”

“Right, yeah.” The scholar smiled before going back to his current bowl.

Again, Pigsy’s grandmother looked amused at this, but when Pigsy looked, she acted like nothing was wrong and started complimenting Xiaotian’s drawing again.

Pigsy sighed, focusing back on his work as customers began to pour in once more. The chef managed to hold a steady pace that kept him fairly busy, though not busy enough to forget to make Tang another bowl of lo mein he teased him about. Tang ate, Xiaotian colored (even showed a handful to Pigsy when he could), his grandmother gossiped about some of the mahjong ladies, and overall it was a pretty solid work day. He wished Tang the best of luck on his way out, and wished some of that for himself when he closed the restaurant.

“So, you really are going on a date, aren’t you?” His grandmother teased as Pigsy locked the iron security shield.

Pigsy rolled his eyes. “I appreciate your trust in my honesty.”

“I’m just making sure before I get my hopes up. Heaven knows this only happens once in a blue moon,” she teased, making Xiaotian giggle.

“What’re you laughing at, mister?” Pigsy put his hands on his hips dramatically, making the kid laugh more.

“He’s laughing at the fact that you haven’t been on a date since before he was born, isn’t that right, my little dumpling?” Lǎolao pinched his cheeks, which made him whine and go behind Pigsy.

“Lǎolao–”

“I know, I know. It’s not my fault he’s as cute as a button, you know,” She defended herself before Pigsy rolled his eyes again and picked the kid up.

“Miss Xiahui is a lot like my mother, you know? No respect for boundaries. I’m so sorry you have to spend all night with her,” Pigsy apologized dramatically.

“S’okay! She lets me have cookies.” Xiaotian grinned wide, making the chef immediately give his grandmother a look.

“I’ve already told you it’s not my fault he’s so cute.” His grandmother raised her hands in defeat, making the chef roll his eyes yet again.

“If he gets cavities, you’re paying the dentist bill,” Pigsy huffed and started walking home.

“He’s not going to get cavities, Jiejie. Xiaotian knows how to brush his teeth very well, don’t you, dear?” Lǎolao patted the boy’s head as he nodded.

“Right,” Pigsy said. “Let’s just get home.”

“Yes, yes! We have to get you good and ready for your date! Oh, I’m so excited.” Lǎolao had dropped the teasing for genuine elation. “You know, I think if I looked I could find one of your grandfather’s old suits. Oh, you’d look just so handsome in it.”

“Oh, wow, Lǎolao, that’s really not–”

“Necessary? Of course it is! Tonight is a momentous occasion and I want my grandson to look his absolute best.” She ignored his protest and practically marched the rest of the way to their apartment.

Pigsy gave a nice, long sigh. “You’re gonna have a long night, kid.”

“No bedtime?” Xiaotian’s face lit up.

“Who knows.” Pigsy snorted and picked up the pace to follow his grandmother (who, for someone in their 80s, was rather spritely).

When they got home, his grandmother quickly pulled out old boxes and had him try on three suits before finally finding a Western Style from the 40s. His grandmother also gave him gold square cufflinks, as well as a blue and pink floral tie. He managed to at the very least convince her to let him wear his own socks and shoes, and after she spritzed him down with peach perfume, the look was finished.

“Lǎolao, you don’t have to do this, my suit is plenty good,” Pigsy pointed out as his grandmother straightened out his suit coat, looking like she was going to cry.

“No, no. You look absolutely perfect.” She smiled, finally stepping back to admire her work. “Your date will absolutely love you.”

“Lǎolao.” Pigsy’s face turned tomato red.

His grandmother chuckled. “I suppose we could use a third opinion.” She tapped her chin, before calling Xiaotian in from the living room, and in a moment, the five-year-old pattered over. “Xiaotian, do you think Pigsy looks nice?”

Xiaotian gave two thumbs up and a toothy grin. “Fancy!”

“See? You look perfect.” His grandmother smiled and patted Xiaotian’s head.

“I never said I looked bad, I’m just saying it’s– it’s a lot, and I really don’t know if I need Waigong’s suit–”

“Nonsense, Bajie. He’d want you to have it.” His grandmother cupped Pigsy’s cheek.

“It’s… a blind date from an anonymous chat site, Lǎolao. I really don’t think–”

“You never know, Jiejie. You could be meeting the love of your life,” She hummed.

“Right… sure,” Pigsy agreed to drop his protests for the sake of not dampening his grandmother’s spirits.

The elder pig demon smiled again, patting Pigsy’s cheek twice. “Now, let me find my camera; I want to capture how handsome you look.” She winked and left the room.

“Lǎolao, I really don’t have time for– never mind.” Pigsy shook his head when he realized she was just going to insist. He sighed, giving himself another once over in the mirror and adjusting his tie.

“You really think this isn’t too much, kid?” Pigsy asked Xiaotian.

The boy shook his head. “You look like a detective!”

Pigsy laughed, realizing Xiaotian was 100% correct. “All I’m missing is the hat, darn.” He snapped his fingers playfully.

“And a gun,” the boy giggled.

“Ahhhhh, that might be a bit much kiddo,” Pigsy chuckled, ruffling the kid’s hair. “You gonna be okay with just Lǎolao tonight?”

Xiaotian nodded. “We’re gonna watch Monkey Empire.”

“Again? Didn’t we just finish that?” Pigsy raised a playful eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I wannaaaaaa,” Xiaotian explained eloquently.

“Fair enough. Just don’t let Lǎolao spoil you too much, alright? And make sure you brush your teeth extra good, and put all your toys away for her. I’ll check on you as soon as I get back,” Pigsy said, fixing the kid’s hair since he just messed it up.

“Okie dokie, Piggy.” The boy grinned again.

“Found it!” Pigsy’s grandmother finally called from the other room, and she was back in a flash.

“Oh, you just look so handsome, I could eat you right up, you know that? Your date is a very, very lucky man,” the woman chuckled as she took a photo, not even waiting for him to pose or smile.

“‘Man’? I don’t know their gender,” Pigsy pointed out, but she just waved her hand and snapped another photo.

“Xiaotian, go join Bajie, I want to get my two favorite, most handsome boys together,” she instructed and Xiaotian ran to Pigsy. The chef scooped him up and they both smiled for the camera.

After a few photos were taken, Pigsy glanced at the clock and said, “Alright, are we done? I’m gonna be late soon.”

“Yes, yes, you can go,” His grandmother sighed dramatically– though snapped another photo anyway.

Pigsy rolled his eyes, setting Xiaotian back down before kneeling to his level.

“You promise to be good for Lǎolao?” He asked the five-year-old, who nodded seriously. “Good. I’ll see you later tonight, kiddo.” The chef smiled and stood before Xiaotian grabbed his pant leg.

“I’ll miss you,” Xiaotian whispered, and Pigsy… wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that.

“I’ll… be back soon, kid. Don’t stress yourself,” he finally said, patting the kid on the head again.

“Besides,” Lǎolao said, getting the kid to look at her, “you have a very fun night planned with your Lǎolao, and we’re going to have lots of fun, aren’t we, Xiaotian?”

“Yeah! We’ll watch Monkey King!” The kid grinned once more, making the elder pig demon chuckle.

“We most certainly will. And we’ll eat lots of cookies and candy and break lots of Bajie’s silly rules,” his grandmother enabled the kid’s natural desire for rebellion.

“You’re killing me, you know that?” Pigsy half-joked, arms crossed.

“It’s what keeps me young,” Lǎolao teased right back.

“Right.” Pigsy rolled his eyes. “Well, I gotta get going so–”

“WAIT!” Xiaotian suddenly shouted, running out of the room, while Pigsy and his grandmother just looked at each other in confusion. They didn’t have to wait long, though, as Xiaotian was back in the matter of seconds with a drawing in his hand.

“For luck!” He explained, handing it over.

Pigsy accepted the offering, laughing when he saw it was a very crude drawing of Xiaotian, Pigsy’s grandmother, Tang, and himself all eating noodles at the restaurant with even cruder hearts everywhere.

“I love it, kid. I’ll put it right here for safe keeping,” Pigsy complimented, folding the drawing so it fit right by his pocket square, which made Xiaotian so happy that, before Pigsy could prepare himself, the kid hugged him.

“Have fun!” Xiaotian grinned nice and big before stepping back and waving.

“I will.” Pigsy waved a little and headed to the door.

“Yes, have lots of fun! I expect to hear about tonight in great detail tomorrow!” His grandmother waved as well, to which Pigsy laughed and shook his head before exiting the apartment door and heading out into the night.

.o0o.

Pigsy arrived at the restaurant at exactly 7:57, three minutes early and before his date. The place was classy, but clearly small and not quite known in the public sphere yet. There was no need for a wait or reservation, so Pigsy was taken to an outside table for two by the fountain.

He could see why this mystery person would pick a place like this. It was nice, but hidden away, and not too expensive. His person was sensible and romantic, and this choice was a reflection of that.

Pigsy opened up the website on his phone, telling his date he’d arrived and got a table, before he settled himself down to wait and think (his favorite activity!).

Pigsy was totally going to fuck this night up.

He hadn’t been on a date in years, and even then, the ones he’d had with Wujing were full of personal mistakes he wasn’t keen on repeating. He knew for a fact he was going to sound incredibly stupid, especially in comparison to his eloquent partner, but that was hardly the least of his worries. Maybe he’d get too angry at something, and it would totally freak them out, or he’d bring up Xiaotian, and they’d hate that he had a kid (even though he wasn’t his kid technically, he was just his guardian, but that would also probably scare them away, creating a perfect lose-lose situation). And heavens, that wasn’t even mentioning the fact that there was a good chance Pigsy forgot to even tell them he was a demon– he was so unbelievably stupid like that.

At exactly eight o'clock, the waiter stopped by and dropped off two glasses of water before disappearing. Pigsy tried his best not to chug it immediately, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t get thirsty when he was nervous. To try and force himself not to, he kept tracing the rim of his glass again and again and again, while keeping an eye on the door.

A part of the chef wondered if his date stood him up. There were a handful of people already here; maybe his date had arrived, saw Pigsy, realized their date was a hideous pig demon, and simply slipped away. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time…

No, no. Pigsy had to wait and be rational. He needed to remember the little drawing in his suit pocket reminding him it was all going to be fine, even if it wasn’t fine, and he’d be okay. So instead of completely losing his mind and worrying to death, Pigsy placed a hand against the pocket that held the drawing and took nice, long breaths before taking a casual and normal drink of water.

However, just then, the restaurant’s door flung open, and Pigsy’s heart practically leapt into his throat as he saw–

Tang…???

No… no, yeah, that was Tang all right, panting with his back against a wall before he looked around the space. When he saw Pigsy, the scholar seemed to share the exact same confusion, head tilting, but he eventually approached the lone pig demon.

“Hey, Pigsy… What’re you doing here?” Tang asked, still catching his breath.

“Same as you, I guess,” Pigsy looked at the fountain, face turning red.

“Right, yeah! Man, that’s one hell of a coincidence, isn’t it?” Tang laughed.

Pigsy laughed as well. “Guess there aren’t many romantic spots left in the city.”

“Guess not.” Tang fidgeted with his scarf, looking around the restaurant.

“Your date not here yet?” Pigsy guessed.

Tang shrugged. “They said they were, but I don’t see them anywhere.”

“Maybe they just lied and said they were here when they’re really just on their way, I used to do that all the time.” Pigsy snorted.

“Yeah, maybe,” Tang laughed. “You– uh– don’t mind if I sit here for right now, do you?”

“Be my guest. You could use the water anyway,” Pigsy teased, and Tang graciously accepted the seat and water.

“I just– I don’t know, me and them agreed to meet here at eight, and I planned to be here at eight o’clock sharp, so I just– I don’t know. Maybe they stood me up– god, that would be so embarrassing,” Tang whispered that last bit to himself.

“Hey. Relax. You’re only five minutes late, and they aren’t even here yet. Besides, they’d have to be a complete moron to stand you up, of all people,” Pigsy pointed out.

Tang rolled his eyes with a little smile. “Yeah, yeah, thanks. Where’s your date?”

“Late, probably. Or maybe we’ve both been stood up, wouldn’t that be something?” Pigsy mused.

“Misery does love company,” Tang laughed sadly.

“He’ll show, I’m sure of it.” Pigsy tried his best to sound comforting.

“Thanks. I’m sure yours will too.” Tang did his best too.

Pigsy nodded, pulling out his phone again and checking to see if they’d messaged him yet, but he was greeted with the exact same screen as minutes before.

He sighed.

“So, you said your date picked this place?” Tang asked out of the blue.

“Uh– yeah. I’ve never been.” Pigsy shrugged.

“I’ve only been here once or twice, but their mango pudding is to die for; though, it’s not as good as yours or your grandmother’s,” Tang stated like it was obvious.

“Funny, my date recommended the mango pudding too. Must be really popular,” Pigsy recalled.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was, it’s amazing.” Tang fidgeted with his scarf again before pulling out his phone. “Though, I gotta ask– why would you agree to a restaurant? You always hate eating out?”

“It was a very persuasive review.” Pigsy snorted. “Besides, I didn’t wanna sound like a hard ass or anything, and it's not like I had any better ideas.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” the scholar assured, typing something.

Pigsy sighed, looking around the restaurant at other couples drinking wine and being all couple-y, when his phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket.

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “Sorry I’m late! Where are you? Just got here.”

Pigsy looked around, and not seeing anyone by the door, he frowned, quickly replying:

FineCuisine81: “Check the outside section.”

“You messaging your date too?” Tang laughed.

“Yeah, they said they’re here, so…” Pigsy trailed off.

“Oh! So’s mine, so I should probably– like– go, haha,” Tang said, already standing.

Pigsy just smiled somewhat sadly as the scholar shuffled away, not giving the pig demon a glance.

Whatever, he was sure it wasn’t personal (or– he hoped, anyway) and so pulled out his phone to find another message.

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “Where are you sitting?”

Pigsy looked around only briefly before sending:

FineCuisine81: “By the fountain in the middle section.”

Pigsy tapped his fingers anxiously against the table, staring at his screen intently as three dots bounced around.

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “There's a lot of people here. I guess I should also ask what you’re wearing too, haha”

“More like lots of humans,” Pigsy muttered to himself.

No– Pigsy couldn’t be bitter, he was supposed to have fun. It didn’t matter if his date was looking around and clearly expecting a human, it was–

Pigsy placed his hand on his breast pocket and took deep breaths, reminding himself he was fine and loved, and he’d be okay.

FineCuisine81: “Old blue western suit and a floral tie.”

He waited with bated breath, barely even daring to glance around to see if his date was actually looking for him or not. He did catch another glance at Tang, which the scholar returned with a funny shrug that Pigsy returned, before they both just went back to their phones.

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “I still don’t see you. You aren’t lying about being there, are you?”

Pigsy knitted his eyebrows, almost offended if he didn’t understand how bad first date jitters could be.

FineCuisine81: “I promise I’m not.”

Pigsy wasn’t even sure he was breathing anymore with how nervous he was watching the screen. At one point, the waiter stopped by to try and ask him if he was ready to order, but he pushed them away immediately.

A minute passed, then two.

Then–

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “Are you sure you’re at the right restaurant? The Huayuan Restaurant? The one on Lianren Road?” FineCuisine81: “I promise.”

Pigsy bit his cheek. He knew it wouldn’t be enough– maybe he needed to do something.

FineCuisine81: “What are you wearing? Maybe I can find you.”

Pigsy barely had to wait a second for a reply.

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “Red and gold tang suit with embroidery along the sleeves and sides. Also glasses lol.”

Pigsy paused, because that–... No… No, it– it couldn’t be, Pigsy would know if it was Tang. There– there would be signs. He’d know. Pigsy wasn’t that stupid.

He saw Tang circling around the fountain again, and this time when he locked eyes with Pigsy the scholar sighed and sat across from him once more.

Tang suit. Gold embroidery. Glasses.

“I’m pretty sure my date is just lying about being here at this point. I mean– I’ve circled the entire place like– ten times, but I just– I’m a little glad your table is still empty too.” Tang laughed like he was going to cry.

Holy fucking shit…

“I-I– Tang, I’m–” Pigsy was utterly dumbfounded because the man sitting in front of him was his mystery man– the fiercely intelligent and kind soul he had spent months chatting with, being too scared of what he’d think if he saw his appearance. Iit was him. It was Tang.

“A-are you okay? You look a little shaken,” Tang laughed again, this time picking up a napkin to wipe his eyes.

Pigsy didn’t think, just grabbed Tang’s hands and stroked them with his thumbs.

“Wha–? Pigsy? Are you alright?” The scholar was clearly startled, but didn’t break the grasp.

“Tang, I-I– It’s– I’m–” Pigsy growled in frustration, words alluding him.

“Yes…?” Tang asked softly, his eyes sparkling like diamonds against the night sky and glasses.

Pigsy took another breath, feeling warmth radiating from Xiaotian’s drawing as he did, and said, “1940’s western suit. Floral tie.”

Tang pulled back a little, opening his mouth to speak, before he looked Pigsy up and down. It only took seconds before his eyes widened with recognition.

“No… no, no– you–? Me? No, you– you wouldn’t, I–” Tang shook his head. “I appreciate you trying to save my night, but–”

“Tang. My username was ‘FineCuisine81’ because I’m a chef and was born in 1981. I didn’t bring up the restaurant or Xiaotian or my grandmother or– much of my past really because you know I’m pretty hesitant about most of it,” Pigsy pleaded for him to understand.

“I-I– you– you wouldn’t–”

“C’mon, Tang. You know me– you know my snark by now, don’t you?” Pigsy tried to joke, but Tang snagged his hands away to cover his face.

“Pigsy, I-I– did you look me up? Is this some kind of– sick joke? Getting payback for all those stupid bowls of noodles?” The scholar was crying by now.

“Tang! I would never– I didn’t know it was you, but now that I do, I– I couldn’t be happier, I swear.” Pigsy smiled despite his overwhelming worry.

Tang shook his head. “No– I’m– I’m not good enough for you– I’m such a mess a-and I’m broke a-and scrawny a-and anxious a-and–”

“Tang, you’re plenty good enough– you’re so much better than me, anyways,” Pigsy laughed and sniffled. “You’re so smart and kind and likable and–”

“B-but you’re really nice too! A-and you have a real job that pays well and a loving grandmother a-and you’re a guardian– and me? I’m just some loser with a nose in a book,” Tang interrupted.

“We– There’s a reason we wanted to meet our ‘mystery person’, Tang. We both saw… something in them– something that made us want more” Pigsy smiled as he wiped away one of the scholar’s tears. “I… I really don’t want to throw that away because I’m scared.”

Tang finally opened his eyes enough to get another good look at Pigsy. It was terrifying to be inspected by him, but Pigsy managed to hold strong and met his gaze with a soft, tearful smile that eventually got Tang to laugh and shake his head.

“We are so stupid, aren’t we?” He asked, and Pigsy removed his hands.

“Oh, absolutely,” Pigsy couldn’t help but agree. “But hey– I’m sure Lǎolao’ll love to hear it took us a whole fifteen minutes to realize we were here for each other.”

“Oh, heavens, she’s never going to let that go, is she?” Tang copied the pig, the redness in his face starting to leave.

“I’m pretty sure she’ll hold it above us until the day she dies,” Pigsy chuckled. “On the bright side, though, at least we’re both idiots.”

“Fair enough.” Tang smiled and looked at the fountain. “I just– I really picked out a restaurant– I am so sorry, this food is going to be trash compared to yours.”

“Bah, I’m sure that’s not true if you like it.” Pigsy winked.

Tang’s face went red again. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure; I like instant ramen.”

“Only because it’s so cheap.” The chef snorted.

“You don’t know the depths of my depravity,” Tang refuted.

“Well, I’d certainly like to. That’s why we’re still here, isn’t it?” Pigsy wiped his own face.

“Y-yeah! It– it is.” Tang smiled shyly. “I just– wow, I’m so embarrassed. I mean, the suit, the tie–”

“Hey, how’s about we just forget about fifteen minutes ago, and start over, okay? No guilt, no anxiety, nothing. Just us having a nice evening out,” Pigsy proposed.

Tang thought about it for a moment before nodding. “I’d like that a lot, Pigsy.”

“Then, it’s settled. We drove here together and the waiter sat us together, and we’re now deciding which wine to order together. That good?” Pigsy asked.

Tang nodded. “Sounds perfect, Pigsy.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more.”

53 notes · View notes

slut4thebroken · 2 years ago

Text

All Work, No Play: hour two

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jackson Ripper × reader

Summary | Jackson makes it clear that he has no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

Warnings | NON CON 18+, sexual content, fingering, dubious consent, degradation, humiliation, choking, crying, breeding, unprotected sex, emotional manipulation, objectification, dehumanization, anal rape, no lube, spit as lube (don’t do that besties), spanking?, knife play, cutting, carving?, blood play, spitting lol, breeding

Words | 5.6 k

Notes | READ THE WARNINGS. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CHOOSE TO VIEW.

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Hour one

“Push it out. Yeah, there you go.” He cooed, collecting his come on his fingers as if trickled out of you. When he deposited it onto your asshole, you stiffened.

“Jackson.” You warned, getting an incredibly painful slap on your ass in response.

“Relax. Like I said, I’m not completely cruel. I’ll prep you a bit first.”

“Jackson, no-” You whined, trying to lift yourself up onto shaky arms, but falling back down with a scream when he hit you again, this time on your clit.

“I’m more than happy to just get right to it, if that’s what you want.” He waited for your response, then continued with a scoff when you stayed silent.

He suddenly pushed his fingers in your cunt and your hips moved back to chase the pleasure when he pulled them away after only a few seconds. He dragged them up, teasing your other hole, and you tried your best to relax, but when the first one pushed in, your whole body tensed up.

“If you just relax it won’t hurt as much.”

No shit, you wanted to say. Instead you bit your lip and buried your head in the sheets, trying not to make any sounds. When the second finger pushed in, it forced a sharp breath out of your nose and you started to taste blood from how hard you were biting.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He groaned, then spat on your rim and you let out a choked moan, making him laugh under his breath. “Of course you like that.” When the third finger pushed in, you jolted and moved up the bed, but he grabbed your hip and roughly pulled you back, making sure not to move his hand so that the motion would bury his fingers even deeper. “Remember what I said. I’ll gladly fuck you right now. This is me being generous so I suggest you don’t abuse my kindness.”

“Jackson, please don’t.” You sobbed, head lifted just enough so your voice wasn’t muffled. “Please-” He all but punched his fingers inside you, making you cut off with a whimper.

“Jesus fucking christ.” He grumbled and you heard the sheets rustling as the bed shifted, then he was pushing your face down into the bed to muffle your sounds. “I’m trying to be nice but you just can’t quit the whining, can you?” You let out a strangled whimper and fisted the sheets until your fingers ached.

“You’re lucky I was your first rapist. If it were anyone else, they wouldn’t give two shits about prep. But maybe that’s what you deserve.” He grabbed your hair and lifted your head, then leaned down so his lips brushed your ear, never stopping the movement of his fingers. “After all, no one wants a loose cocksleeve. So prepping you just seems a little counterintuitive don’t you think?” You let out a quiet sob as your eyes filled with tears once again.

“What do you say to me for being so generous?” He asked lowly, making you almost shiver. “If I don’t think you’re grateful then I’m not going to waste my time with this.”

“…Thank you.” You whispered.

“What was that?”

“T-thank you.” Your voice was barely a whimper now and when you squeezed your eyes shut, a tear rolled down your cheek. “Thank you.” He shoved your face back into the bed, then added another finger. He fucked you slowly, focusing mostly on spreading his fingers to hurry this up.

You’ve never felt this full before and the stretch was burning a little, but for some sick reason, you still wanted to come. You knew you wouldn’t be able to though, not like this.

“What do you think? You ready for my cock?” You wanted to say no, but at the same time, you just want to get it over with. “Yeah, I think you are.” He answered for you, removing his fingers then moving behind you again. He roughly flipped you over and you turned your head to the side, not wanting to look at him.

“I’ll let you choose. I can fuck your face and get a little more lube on my cock, or I’ll just fuck your ass right now.” You glanced down at his length nervously. It was completely dry and you knew that the small amount of spit he just used wouldn’t be enough.

“Fine.” You said quietly, making him chuckle.

“You know that’s not good enough.”

“Please fuck— please fuck my… my face.” You choked out as your whole face got warm.

“With pleasure.” He manhandled you so that your head was hanging off the edge, then placed your arms on your stomach and pinned them there with one hand. “Open.” He commanded. You tentatively let your mouth drop open and he wasted no time sliding inside. “If I feel any teeth, I’ll break your jaw. Do you understand?” You shuddered, but hummed in acknowledgment, not able to speak.

He didn’t even start slow to let you get used to it. He just started rutting against your face, the tip of his cock punching the back of your mouth with each thrust. You gagged and choked, body writhing on the bed, but his grip was unmoving.

“I said no,” a sharp smack on your clit had you crying out, “fucking,” the second one brought tears to your eyes, “teeth.” You sobbed around his length on the third slap, your clit burning now, but what made it worse was the fact that it made you want to come even more.

He didn’t bother keeping this up for long though. After only a few moments, his pace slowed a little.

“This is your only warning.” He said and you furrowed your brows in confusion. On the next thrust, he remained buried in your mouth, then pushed against the resistance until he breached your throat barrier. The whimper that escaped you barely made any sound and he let out a low groan as his free hand settled on your neck, pressing on where his cock was bulging your throat.

You were starting to panic now and with him buried this deep, his balls were resting on your nose, not letting you get any air in. You tried turning your head to the side but you could barely move. When he pulled out, you took in a huge breath and started coughing, on the verge of tears from the rough treatment.

“Open.” You whimpered and shook your head, making him grip your throat. “Open.” He growled and you let out a choked sob, but parted your trembling lips. He didn’t wait for you to open all the way before pushing inside again. He resumed the fast pace and it was almost as if he was purposefully trying to breach your throat barrier with each thrust, that’s how forceful he was being. With how much you were coughing and sputtering, spit was escaping your lips, trailing up your face, adding to your humiliation.

“I know...” He said softly as you thrashed in his hold. “You can take it.” You whimpered in response and tried to shake your head. His thrusts slowed to a rocking motion, going down your throat each time. Through your crying and the intrusion in your mouth, it was almost impossible to breathe and your head was starting to feel heavy from being upside down for so long.

“I’m doing this for you, remember? I’m doing this because you wanted me to— because you begged me to.” You tried to free your arms so you could push him away but he just tightened his grip and pressed them harder into your stomach. He pushed all the way in and froze, keeping your head still against the edge of the bed. His fingers brushed over the column of your throat again, then he wrapped his hand around your neck and started stroking, stimulating his cock from the outside too. He let out a low moan, leisurely rutting his hips, but still staying buried deep.

You were panicking even more now because it felt like you were about to pass out any second. Your lungs burned and you were practically dry heaving with how much you were gagging, but he ignored you, continuing this for a few more seconds before pulling out. Immediately after he released your arms and stepped back, you rolled over on your stomach and coughed almost violently, watching a trail of saliva fall from your lips.

“If you throw up, I’m not paying for the extra cleaning fee.” He said, sounding almost bored. You closed your eyes as you panted, trying to catch your breath. “Do you need some water?” He sneered and you wanted to tell him to fuck off, insult him, anything… but you’re just so tired. You just want this to be over already.

“How do you want me?” You asked quietly as you rose to a seated position.

“Who said I was done fucking your mouth?”

“Please, no more.” You whimpered, keeping your eyes on the floor. He stepped forward and grabbed your cheeks in one hand, making you whimper and try to flinch away. He just tightened his grip before tilting your head up to face him.

“Did you finally break?” He cooed, so sweetly that for a second you almost didn’t realize he was mocking you. When you stayed silent, he continued. “I must say, you lasted longer than I expected.”

“Please stop tormenting me and just do it.” You whispered, making him click his tongue and shake his head in disagreement.

“How am I tormenting you?” He asked softly— innocently. He tilted his head slightly to emphasize the question and you tried to figure out how to put it into words.

“Please just do it.” You decided to say instead. He pursed his lips and nodded slowly as he thought.

“You think after I fuck your ass, we’re done.” He realized, making you nervous. “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to mislead you.” Closing your eyes, you let out a choked sob, trying to hold in the tears. “I have this room until 11 a.m. tomorrow, we have all night.”

“Jackson, please..” You cried, feeling bile rise in your throat at the thought of what he could do in that amount of time. “I— I gave you what you wanted. Please just let me go.” You said quietly. He let out a heavy breath through his nose, then released your face.

“I can’t do that yet.”

“Why not?” You whimpered, bottom lip trembling.

“Because I’m not done with you.” When you let out a broken sob, he cooed and gently cupped your cheek as he shushed you. “You know how I feel about the crying.” He said softly, but you still knew it was a warning.

“How am I supposed to not cry right now?” You whimpered, sounding just pathetic enough to not set him off.

“You’re a big girl, I’m sure you can figure it out.” He lightly slapped your cheek, making you flinch. “On your stomach.” You bit your quivering lip and hesitated for only a moment before obeying.

“How about we play a little game?” He kneeled over your legs and you craned your head back so you could see him. When he reached in his pants pocket and pulled out a switchblade, you visibly jumped as it opened. “Since I couldn’t trust you to shut up before… everytime I hear a noise, you bleed.” Your eyes widened and your heart dropped into your stomach.

“What?” You said through a breath, trying not to start hyperventilating.

“Relax. It’ll just be a small cut. And besides, if you can resist moaning while being raped, then I won’t ever need to use this.” He waved the blade around teasingly and you frowned. When he realized you weren’t going to respond, he used his free hand to pull your ass cheeks apart, then spat on your hole.

“Jackson— Jackson, wait,” You whimpered, reaching behind yourself to try and push him away.

“The game starts now.” You had no reason to not believe him. So you bit your lip and buried your face in the sheets, making him reach forward and roughly yank you back up by your hair. “No cheating.” You let out a shaky breath through your nose, trying to calm down. When he let go of your hair, you kept your head up. “Good girl.”

You took in a sharp breath at the feeling of his cock against your ass. He applied some pressure and you stiffened, waiting for the pain you knew you were about to feel. When he finally breached your hole, you screamed and tried to move up the bed, letting out a violent sob when you felt the sharp sting on your ass. It quickly turned into a deep throbbing and you let your head fall forward as you clung to the sheets, trying to ground yourself. You did your best to silence your cries, the only sounds being shaky breaths and quiet whimpers that were mostly muffled by the bed.

“Gonna be quiet now?” You weren't sure if you were allowed to answer verbally, but you tried anyway.

“Please, I- I can’t.”

“You can. Either voluntarily or involuntarily, but I’d rather not have to clean up a big mess and I’m sure you’d prefer to keep your tongue.” You let out a strangled whimper, your sobs intensifying. “So— We’re going to keep playing the game. I’ll only cut you four more times, after that I’ll move on to something more permanent. Understand?”

“Jackson, please.” You whined, trying not to focus on the sharp pain in your hole and on your ass.

“If you’re not going to answer a simple fucking question, maybe I’ll cut it out anyway.”

“No! No- I’m sorry. I’ll try but— I really don’t think I can.” You whimpered. “I’m not just saying that. I genuinely don’t think I can do it.” You added, when he didn’t respond.

“Fine. I’ll give you a choice.” Your stomach churned just thinking about what he would say. “Either we continue the game— four more warning cuts before I shut you up for good— or I carve my name and you don’t have to worry about staying completely silent.” There’s not a chance in hell you’ll be able to take that much pain with him cutting his entire name. You’ll probably throw up or pass out or both. But you also don’t think you’ll be able to stay silent— not with his cock splitting you open like this.

“Tick tock.” He singsonged, dragging the tip of the knife over your ass.

“The— the first one.” You said quietly. He let out a disappointed hum and lifted the knife off your skin.

“Not what I would’ve picked but I guess I should honor my word.” While you waited, you took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. “Starting now.” He immediately continued pushing in the rest of the way, only stopping when he was buried to the hilt inside you. Your eyes widened and you placed a hand over your mouth, swallowing down a whimper as you breathed heavily through your nose.

“Atta girl. Stay nice and quiet.” He slowly pulled back, then pushed in a little faster, continuing that rhythm. Your eyes burned as you tried not to cry, but it hurt. He’s big and didn’t use lube and barely prepped you— not to mention the fact that you rarely do anal.

“Since I’m so nice, I’m gonna give you a warning; I’m speeding up now.” You choked on a moan after the first hard thrust, then whimpered at the sharp sting on your ass, this time on your other cheek. “Stop whining. I did warn you, it’s not my fault you didn’t listen.”

His thrusts only got harder and faster. You slipped up on a particularly brutal one and he went back to your other ass cheek— that was when the tears started falling again. You pressed your hand harder against your mouth and squeezed your eyes shut, but his movements only got rougher and you slipped up again.

Doing your best to stay quiet, you kept repeating to yourself that you only have one more chance, but this felt impossible. How can he expect you to be completely quiet during something like this? Especially when he’s cutting you too.

You tried to cry silently, but when a sob accidentally came out, your heart dropped. You winced at the sting of another cut, then started babbling out pleas and apologies.

“Please— it was an accident. Please, I’m sorry.” You whimpered. He let out a heavy sigh and his hips slowed to a stop.

“It’s okay, baby. Make all the noise you want.”

“What?” You asked quietly, taking in a sharp breath when he pulled all the way out. He got off of the bed and you turned your head to watch him with furrowed brows.

“Stay.” He ordered, pointing the knife at you. You obeyed and he walked over to grab your dress, then laid it down next to you on the bed. “On your back, ass on your dress.” You tentatively turned over and sat on the dress, but immediately turned back onto your stomach with a hiss of pain.

“It hurts.” You frowned.

“It’s gonna hurt a whole lot more if you don’t do what I say.” He raised his brows and you whined quietly, but got onto your back again. It was less painful laying down, but the pressure still hurt. “Good girl. You keep following those survival instincts and you might just make it out of this alive.” It sounded like he was joking… but you were also pretty sure that he was being completely serious.

Moving to the foot of the bed, he grabbed your ankles and roughly pulled you down, making you cry out as the pain on your ass flared up. He quickly undressed and you tried not to stare at his body too much— you didn’t want to give him another reason to mock you. When he got on the bed again and started moving toward your head, you suddenly realized what was happening.

“No,” You whimpered, shaking your head.

“What happened to those instincts? I mean, seriously, who says no to the person holding them at knife point?” He chuckled. Your eyes shifted to the weapon still in his hand.

“Please don’t.” You tried again.

“Getting warmer.” He said teasingly. “I’ll give you a hint; drop a word, then you’ll get it.” You frowned and shook your head, biting your lip. He laughed quietly and kept moving until he was behind your head. When you tried to sit up, he blocked your path with the knife, making you stiffen, but fall back down.

“Final warning. I’m done fucking your ass and your cunt for now— Either open your mouth or I’ll make a hole somewhere else and fuck that instead.” Your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat. He had to be bluffing… right? “Trust me when I tell you I’ve done worse.” Okay maybe he’s not bluffing…

“Will you just— not do it like before please? I almost threw up.” You said quietly, too scared to speak any louder.

“Why exactly should I do that? All you’ve done is make things harder for me.”

“I- I’m sorry… I’ll behave, I promise.” He raised his brows, seemingly not believing you, making you try harder. “Please, Jackson.”

“We’ll see. Arms above your head.” You frowned, but obeyed, and he straddled your arms, pinning them to the bed with his legs. “I feel any teeth, you’ll need stitches. Understand?” You glanced nervously between his cock and the knife.

“Yes.” You whispered. He positioned himself over your face and you opened your mouth, waiting, trying not to think about where his cock just was. He placed it inside and you closed your lips as he slowly pushed in deeper. When he met the resistance of your throat, he stopped, then slowly pulled back, making you all but sigh in relief. He only fucked you a few more times before pushing in and staying there, the tip brushing the back of your mouth.

“Remember what I said about teeth.” You were confused about why he said that because you were pretty sure your teeth hadn't touched him at all.

Pain erupted through your chest and you almost thought you imagined it, but when it turned into a white hot burning sensation, you knew you hadn’t. You screamed around him and tried to move your arms out from under his legs. When that was unsuccessful, you started thrashing and he smacked your clit, making you cry out.

“If you keep moving, I’ll have to start over.” Your chest went from a deep throbbing to the sharp pain again and you let out a broken sob, your eyes burning as they filled with tears.

With the pain, his cock in your mouth, and the way you were hyperventilating, you felt like you were going to pass out again. You welcomed it though— you prayed you wouldn’t have to endure this any longer.

But you didn’t. You remained conscious, your lungs burning along with your chest. You wanted to bite him— to do anything to get him to stop— but you had no reason to believe that he wouldn’t follow through on his threat. Not with the way he was so easily cutting you and ignoring your cries.

Your sounds alternated between screams and violent sobs and after a few seconds of that, he huffed, then pushed in deeper. You choked on the sudden intrusion in your throat and he let out a low groan, continuing with whatever it was he was carving on your body. When you tried to scream, only a garbled whimper came out.

“Be as loud as you want. No consequences this time.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Now that he was fully sheathed in your mouth, his balls rested against your nose, limiting your breathing even more. It was getting harder to tell if the nausea was because of the constant pressure on your gag reflex, or from the pain.

He finally stopped, then pulled out of your mouth not long after. You coughed at first, but quickly resumed crying.

“God— will you shut up?” He reached out and you flinched away from him, squeezing your eyes shut. “Oh you poor thing.” He cooed, cupping your cheek. You jerked away from his touch and your sobs intensified. “You must be so scared. It’s okay, it’s over now.” He said softly, moving his hand to pet your hair.

“That means stop crying.” His voice was significantly more harsh and you couldn’t help it when you cried even harder. “Jesus..” He muttered. You felt the bed move, then heard his footsteps, but you didn’t dare change your position. His hands suddenly wrapped around your ankles and he yanked you even farther down the bed, making a sob catch in your throat as your eyes snapped open. You stared at his blurry figure, watching him wrap your legs around his body, lining his cock up with one of your holes— you weren’t sure which one. When you looked down and saw the jagged lines, you let out a broken whimper that turned into a mewl when he pushed inside your cunt.

“I know… But don’t you just look so much prettier branded with my initials?” Squeezing your eyes shut, you continued crying, feeling too overwhelmed now that you felt full. “I couldn’t cut too deep because of the mess, but I think I cut deep enough to leave a scar.” He said proudly and a strangled sob left you, making him chuckle. “You may be crying but we both know you like that. Why else would your cunt have squeezed my cock so hard?”

You shook your head with a whimper. Sure you’ve read about this kind of stuff and fantasized about it, but you never wanted it to actually happen. You never wanted any of this to actually happen. Maybe this was karma for reading so many fucked up books— the universe’s way of punishing you for liking it.

He started fucking you, bringing you out of your thoughts. And the overwhelming pain was starting to compete with the overwhelming pleasure.

“I know I said I’d keep my word, but technically I never said what I’d do after our little game. Plus, you should probably be branded anyway if you’re going to be breeding stock for sale, right?” You don’t know how he was able to say something like that so casually.

“No..” You whimpered, shaking your head.

“No? Why not?” He asked innocently, tilting his head a little. His thrusts never faltered through your conversation though.

“Please.” You whined, feeling another wave of tears approach. “Please— I‘m sorry…”

“But you’d look so pretty with your belly nice and full.”

“Please, Jackson.” You cried.

“Shh. Don’t talk back.” He presented the knife that you didn’t realize was still in his hand and your stomach dropped as the throbbing in your chest flared up at the reminder of what just happened. “Can’t believe you’re this scared of a tiny little knife.” Technically you’re scared of the knife in his hands… you didn’t say that though.

He moved the blade down to trail the tip over your inner thigh, making you tense up. He let out a low groan as his hips stuttered for just a moment before he resumed the steady pace.

“I’d put the knife down and focus on fucking you, but your cunt gets so tight when I do this.” He moved to your other thigh and did the same thing, lightly dragging it up the soft skin, leaving a pink line behind. “You can’t really blame me can you?” He chuckled. You stayed perfectly still, not wanting to be cut again. You were barely even able to focus on his words.

“But if you really hate it so much, I guess I can think of another way to get your pathetic little pussy to squeeze my cock.” He removed the knife and set it on the bed before grabbing your hips to help control his thrusts. “Rub your clit.” He ordered. You shook your head, not wanting to be forced to do something that would actually help you enjoy this.

“Seriously?” He scoffed a laugh. “Your options are that or the knife and you’re saying no?” He asked in disbelief, making you frown. Your gaze shifted to the knife on the bed next to you and you swallowed down a whimper as you slowly reached your hand between your legs. “There you go.” He cooed when your fingers met your clit. “I doubt I need to tell you what will happen if I’m not satisfied with your effort?”

“No…” You muttered, rubbing your clit harder and faster because of his warning.

“Good girl. Make that pussy milk my fucking cock.” He groaned and you flushed at the vulgarity of his words as thrusts sped up, rapidly pounding your hole. Your tits were moving embarrassingly, but that feeling wasn’t as prominent as the pain on your chest when the skin stretched with each thrust.

Despite your revulsion for him and his current actions, you wanted to get close. You wanted your brain to stop focusing on all of the mental and physical pain and just let you forget— if only for a few seconds. You just needed a break— from crying and screaming and the aching and throbbing, and from him.

“You’re awfully quiet.” He noticed.

“I thought you wanted me to stop crying.” Your voice was raspier than you’d ever heard it. Based on his expression though, your tone clearly didn’t sound the way you meant it to; small and obedient.

“What’d I say about talking back, huh?”

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I just… wanted to make sure that I was still doing what you wanted.” You said quietly, fear blooming in your chest once again.

“That would’ve been a good save if you didn’t add on the obvious lie.”

“I wasn’t— I wasn’t lying…” You whimpered, making him scoff.

“I don’t believe you but I’m close enough that I don’t care right now.” You all but breathed a sigh of relief. “Faster.” He ordered, so you sped up your fingers, your breath hitching at the slightly more intense pleasure. The cuts on your ass and chest have dulled now, mostly overshadowed by his cock ramming into you and your fingers stimulating your clit. You bit your lip to try and stifle your moans, but there was no chance— you’re too tired to put all of your energy into something as pointless as that.

Even though your body was begging for an orgasm, your mind couldn’t let yourself do that, not after what he just did to you. But his cock was hitting that perfect spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back into your head and your fingers were working even harder, voluntarily. You were solely relying on him coming before you had a chance to, but with how rapidly you were approaching the edge, you weren’t sure that’d happen.

“Look at you… Are you close?” He cooed and you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head. “No? It seems like you are.” He said teasingly.

“Fuck— please just come.” You choked out, gripping the sheets with your free hand as your chest heaved.

“Poor thing. You can’t hold it, can you?” His voice was still laced with the patronizing, sweet tone. You whimpered and kept your eyes squeezed shut, trying not to give in to the pleasure. “Maybe I should finally give you what you want.”

“No.” You said quickly, back arching a little as a low moan escaped you.

“But you were crying and begging for it earlier. What changed, hm?” You let out a choked sob and turned your head to the side even though your eyes were already closed. “You worried it'll make you have to admit to yourself that you liked it? That you liked me raping your ass and carving my initials into you?”

“Stop,” You whimpered.

“No. You’re going to come and if you stop rubbing your clit, I’ll cut off those fingers. Understand?”

“Jackson…” You sobbed out, unable to say anything else.

“Do you understand?” He repeated, his tone making you shiver.

“Y-yes.” You whispered. His pace became even faster and harder somehow, almost punching the breath out of you with each thrust. When you could feel yourself on the edge, you let out a choked sob, trying— uselessly— to bring yourself back down.

“I think you need a reminder of what made you come.” He said suddenly. Your moan cut off into a cry when he ran two fingers over his initials and you opened your eyes just in time to see him shove them in your mouth. You gagged at the coppery taste, then again when he forced them to the back of your mouth, purposefully pushing down on your tongue to make you gag. “Suck.” He ordered. You did your best to shake your head with the intrusion in your mouth, letting out a garbled whimper when you could barely move. “Now.” He forced them in impossibly deeper, making you choke and bring your hand up to claw at his arm.

“Fine.” He removed his fingers and you gasped in a breath, trying not to throw up at the taste of your own blood lingering on your tongue. You let out a broken sob when he swiped his fingers over the wound again, this time using more pressure and staying there longer. When he finally removed them, he immediately brought his hand up to wipe across your lips and cheek. You cringed at the mixture of your own saliva and blood, and kept your lips tightly sealed so you couldn’t taste any.

He moved his hand to your neck, squeezing hard enough to make you choke and gasp for air. Leaning down over you with a dark look in his eyes, he spat on your already messy face, and you let out a choked moan, making him push down on your windpipe to cut off the sound.

The knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped and if he wasn’t preventing you from making any noise, your sounds would’ve been almost anguished moans. Instead, all you could let out was a quiet wheeze. Because of all of the build up, your orgasm hit you hard, making your body shake as your crying picked up again.

Even after you finished, he kept his hand firmly on your throat, desperately bucking his hips into you, chasing his own orgasm now. Your hand slowed to a stop but you were too tired to move it anywhere else, so it remained trapped between your bodies. Just as your eyes started growing heavy and your head felt light and dizzy, he buried himself to the hilt with a low groan, putting his face in the crook of your neck. You could faintly hear his moans and feel hot come filling you up, but it was hard to focus on anything other than your inability to breathe and the feeling of losing consciousness.

He suddenly loosened his grip and you wheezed in a breath, coughing and trying to gasp in air as your head rushed with the sudden blood flow. He panted for a moment, then leaned back up and pulled out, making you hiss because of how sensitive you were.

Hour three

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@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @idkdudsworld @nashja @rentaldarling @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @aviamulier @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @nashja @xxorazz @halleysc6met @crunchsworld @cillianscrybaby @babaohhhriley @deceitfuldevout @gentyleman @lorelais-world @shroombloom-rry @pinguwrites @aurorag98

#jackson rippner x reader smut #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner #red eye movie #red eye

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danidrabbles · 9 months ago

Note

🎵❤️

It's been a while since you sent this, but thank you so much for the support and for sending me a message ❤️

Send me a 🎵, I’ll put my music on shuffle and write something inspired by that song.

Pairing: Dave York / f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+! smut, masturbation, breasts (mentioned, big enough to at least push together), description of.... explicit videos and me parodying them badly (probably))

Unpaid Intern

“Anyone need a coffee?” you ask, popping your head into the conference room. Everyone in the room turns their head towards you at once, and, feeling on the spot, you add, “I’m um, doing a run, so...”

Everyone rattles off their orders, leaving your boss last.

“I’ll have one,” he says. “You know how I like it.” It could’ve sounded condescending, but it’s more… trusting.

“All right, mister York,” you say, giving him a nod.

Before you leave, he addresses you, waits until you look him in the eye when he says, “Please, call me Dave.”

You nod again, cheeks heating.

Later, when you bring everyone’s orders, he’s the only one who thanks you.

– – – – –

You’ve been here for two months now and as the intern, you get the chores other people don’t really want; the office is in the middle of digitising a couple of old documents, and it became your job to do it. You hate to admit it, but it’s actually teaching you something. It has taken up the biggest part of your week, but today, you’re on the brink of finishing it. It makes the day pass fast as you work quickly, but thoroughly, and by the time it’s early evening, everything is done.

When you’re about to leave, Dave is just stepping out of his office.

As he closes the door behind him, his eyes find you with quiet curiosity. “Now, tell me why the intern is one of the last ones out the door.”

You jab your thumb over your shoulder, pointing at the records room. “Only just finished up, but it’s all done.”

“Always making sure everyone is looked after, always got your work done by the end of the day…” He gives you a once over and nods in approval. “You’re a hard worker. I like it.”

His praise makes you soar, a sense of pride making your belly swoop. You have to be careful not to let it show too much. “Thank you, sir–Dave,” you correct quickly.

“Good,” he says with a nod, lingering a little before saying his goodbyes. “See you tomorrow.”

– – – – –

Commute. Dinner. Waste what remains of your evening on the couch. Bed.

Once there, you can’t really settle, the swoop in your belly from earlier replaced with something else that makes you buzz. After turning, tossing and turning again, you reach for your phone, finally give into what you hope will help.

A week or so ago, your best friend had recommended you… a video. She texted you the link, added the comment, I think this is the first time I’ve ever thought a guy's dick was pretty.

Now might be the time to see if you agree.

After reaching for your earphones on your nightstand and popping them in, you scrolling back in your text history to find and click the link. The screengrab under the play button is lewd. It's an actor sitting on an office chair with an actress in his lap, but they’re reduced to just their body parts; the camera is focussed on his cock buried deep inside of her…

Settling back against your pillow, knees spread wide beneath your blankets, you hit play.

The actress’ high, nasally voice does a voiceover about how difficult a new job can be, how hard it is working in an all-male environment, and how she needs her boss’ approval on the report she’s been working on.

The door of her office opens, and an actor enters, the voiceover informing you it’s her boss. "Can I see you in my office, please?" he asks.

You inhale sharply at the sight of him; he looks just like your boss. Your clit throbs in response, the flush of embarrassment and arousal at the reaction going from your crown all the way to the tips of your toes. It gives you pause, one finger hovering over the pause button, another finger teasing yourself over your underwear.

You don’t pause.

They talk about the report; badly acted dialogue where he approves of her work. It’s just build-up for what comes next. As they talk, the actor’s voice becomes his voice. And as the video plays, your eyes flutter closed, using it to build your own little fantasy around it…

He wouldn't waste time - he's a busy man. But he wouldn’t just pounce on you, either. He’d ease into it a little, charm you; stand close, tell you you look pretty, swipe a strand of hair from your brow as he looks down your blouse. You’d stutter out his name, his title and his last name, and he’d correct you.

“Call me Dave.”

And you’d nod.

“Always taking such good care of everything, but who’s taking care of you, hmm?” says the voice in your ear. “Let me help you.”

He would say something like that, too.

You cup yourself over the fabric between your legs, your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you hear the actors on screen share a kiss, and you take a quick peek to watch their tongues tangle together.

Dave’s plump bottom lip would fit so well between your lips, the both of you testing the waters softly before he'd cup your jaw and deepen the kiss. While his tongue explored your mouth, he’d back you up against his desk, the edge digging into the curve of your ass, the hard ridge of his cock against your front. Wandering hands would roam your body, squeezing your waist, a large palm–

“Let’s get this off, show me these.”

–cupping your chest. You would unbutton your blouse, hands trembling under his watchful gaze, struggling with a few small buttons until the fabric falls open to reveal your heaving chest.

A single finger would hook in the front of your bra while you shrug your blouse off, and Dave would pull the cup down until it revealed a stiff nipple. Reaching behind your back, you would undo the clasp, making your bra fall away so he could see.

“Look at these fucking tits,” his voice sails into your ears, followed by an appreciative groan.

You place the phone down next to you so you can still see, but have both hands free, and ruck up the fabric of your shirt. With a groan, you take a breast in your hand and squeeze, before pinching your nipple.

They’d fit in his hands nicely, cupped, squeezed, pushed together, before his mouth would replace a hand to suck at your nipple, graze it with his teeth.

You watch the actor’s mouth coming off the actress’ chest with an audible pop! before diving down again and getting another taste of her. As he does, she pulls up the short skirt she’s wearing until it’s bunched up around her waist, then lays back on the desk. Her fingers dip between her spread legs and you do the same, fingers sliding beneath the fabric of your panties and finally touching yourself. You let out a breathy sound at the contact, dragging some wetness up to roll over your stiff clit.

It's erotic, the idea of yourself laying back like that, tits out, red marks all over them, playing with yourself. You imagine your boss watching, one corner of his mouth pulling up with an amused purse of his lips at your newfound confidence.

The jiggle of a belt fills your ears, and you watch, enthralled, as the actor’s cock comes into view, bobbing against his stomach when he pulls his pants down to mid thigh. You let out a quiet sound at the sight. He's hard, thick, pink and swollen at the tip. Your friend was right. It's pretty. It fits right with your fantasy.

Dave would open his belt, pulling it off with quick, rough moves and throwing it aside, before opening his pants to reveal his cock. Your mind can’t help but imagine him the same way, heavy and full, your reaction to it making him give himself a few strokes before taking his place between your legs.

You clench when you hear the actor spit, and an involuntary moan leaves your mouth just when the actress lets out hers. You buck into your own hand, the circles you draw around your clit tightening, speeding up when you feel a familiar pull somewhere below your belly button.

You imagine Dave doing it, spreading your legs and spitting on you, watching it slide down to your opening before smearing his cock through it. It would make him groan when you moan his name in reply to it, giving you the very tip of his cock, both watching as it slips just past that initial bit or resistance. He’d praise your sweet plea’s before you’d even realize they were leaving your lips, and lean down to press a wet, messy kiss to your mouth, slowly sliding into you.

Two fingers slip down, your excitement spiking when you realize how easily the digits can glide inside of yourself. The actors on your screen don’t ease into it, the sound of skin slapping against skin all you can hear. It takes over in your head, matching their pace as you fuck yourself to the idea of Dave’s cock sliding in and out of you.

He’d stretch you open just how you like it, experienced and sure, his fingers digging into your soft hips and using them as leverage to pull you back on his thrusts. His hand would come up on occasion, to paw at your tits just to feel.

Maybe he’d spank them.

The office would fill with your muffled moans, mixing in with his whispered approval; how well you’re taking it, how good you feel around him, how he’s been thinking about this ever since you started your internship.

“You like it, baby?” The rough voice in your ear asks. “You like it when I rub your pretty clit?”

Dave’s thumb would slide down the curls above your slit, find your clit to draw circles around it that match the pace he’s fucking you with. Your hushed confirmation would only spur him on, make him fuck you harder.

“Fuck,” you huff, your own thumb mimicking your fantasy, matching every pump of your fingers. You find a good spot with a curl of your fingers, and you concentrate on that.

You’d be a babbling mess. “More. Dave, please. Faster. There–Right fucking there, just like that,” while your fingers desperately claw at his forearms. You’d reach for his tie, twist it around your palm to pull him into a bruising kiss, just how you like it, right before–

“Are you gonna come on this cock?”

You moan into your empty bedroom, nodding to yourself as you find the perfect pace; the swipe of your thumb just so, your fingers hitting something exactly right…

“Fucking do it.”

It shoves you over the edge. Your back comes off the bed, a hand clamping over your mouth to keep yourself from shouting as the walls of your pussy clench desperately around your fingers. You ride it out as quietly as you can, fingers still working until you’re through, and your body falls back against your mattress with a sigh.

In your ears, the scene continues. The actor’s groans mixing in with the actress’ moans until his sounds take over. He pulls out of her roughly, a little laugh escaping him, like he stopped himself just in time.

“Fuck, yeah. Let me taste it, baby,” he says, kneeling at the edge of the desk, pushing his head between the actress’ shaking thighs…

And between your own legs, your fingers begin moving again.

– – – – –

The next day at work, you’re exhausted and on edge. You’d stayed up far too long, lost in the fantasy, your second orgasm still not enough to douse the arousal coursing through your body. At least your plan had worked: You’d fallen asleep right after–

Suddenly, your name echoes through the hallway. Startled, you look over your shoulder to see mister York's head peek out of the office door. Your eyes lock on his.

"Can I see you in my office, please?"

– – – – – My notes for this were: Oh, god, how can I even use this… “Because you can’t afford a mortgage you just torrent a porn.” WHAT IF it’s about an intern who has a crush on her boss, and later when she watches a movie she pictures herself with this boss.

#dani writing #dani drabbles #music drabbles #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #the equalizer 2 #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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your-world-with-nct · 2 years ago

Text

polaroid love | njm (1)

ONE — ooh, someone’s got a cruuush!

<- BACK | MENU | NEXT ->

PAIRING | na jaemin x female reader (ft. nct dream + enhypen 02z)

GENRE | fluff, angst, college au

WARNINGS | intended lowercase, cursing, mentions of sex, alcohol consumption, stem student slander

WORD COUNT | 2.5k

SUMMARY | inspired by enhypen’s ‘polaroid love’ — in his twenty-two years of living, na jaemin has never been in a proper relationship. after witnessing his best friends go through their fair share of complicated, devastating heartbreaks, jaemin decided he was better off investing his time and effort into his studies, rather than wasting his time falling in love. years of having fleeting crushes and being countlessly confessed to passed by and not a single person could tempt jaemin into the world of love. that is, until, he meets someone that he can’t get out of his head no matter how long he stares at his anatomy textbooks. someone that reminds him of the hopeless romantic he once was. someone that can show him that love doesn’t have to be so complicated to succeed.

A/N | i’ve been waiting for the day to put this out and here it is!! i hope you guys enjoy this first part and look forward to the rest of the series :) feedback is always appreciated and please reply to this post or send an ask to be added to the taglist <3

FIC PLAYLIST LINK | click here to enhance your reading experience!

HEADER KEY | • REC -> a character’s point of view | ■ GALLERY -> a flashback from that character’s point of view

JAEMIN CAM • REC

“jaem, food’s here, you can finish that later,” jaemin looked up from his computer after countless hours of meticulous editing to see jeno leaning against the doorframe, impatiently tapping his foot.

“mmm, yeah, be right there,” jaemin hummed, with absolutely no intention of getting up within the next few seconds.

jeno rolled his eyes at his housemate. he knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t be moving from his desk any time soon, “hmph, okay, but hurry up or renjun and haechan’ll beat you to the couch and you know you get all huffy when you have to sit on the floor.”

“i don’t get huffy,” jaemin scoffed, shutting off his computer and getting up from his chair, momentarily holding onto it for balance as he’d underestimated just how long he’d been glued to it, “i’m not getting up because you said that, i’m getting up because i don’t want the terrible two to take my favourite soju flavours before i get there and leave me the strawberry one.”

jeno chuckled as he signalled for jaemin to snag their spots on the living room sofa whilst their other housemates finished laying out the pizza and chicken they’d ordered.

once haechan had stopped complaining about how he deserved the best spot since he paid for the food, the four friends sat down and enjoyed their delicious meal accompanied by whatever show jeno had come across whilst flipping through channels. four full stomachs and five empty soju bottles later, the boys piled together messily on the couch, their drunk conversations drowning out the sound of the show playing and reducing it to background noise.

“soooo, lee jeno, are we not gonna talk about the guest you brought home last night?” renjun teased, rubbing his flushed cheeks against his best friend’s side.

“ahh, well, what was her name again–”

“you forgot her name?” an equally red jaemin sat up from haechan’s lap, his droopy eyes now wide open, “you brought her home and you don’t know her name?”

jeno slowly shook his head, lightly hitting jaemin’s chest, “calm down, she’s an international student and she has an english name so it was harder to remember… ah! it was lila, she was at the bar last night when the basketball game was on, and she seemed kinda bummed when the team she supported lost so–”

“you made her feel better about it by making her feel good blah blah blah, i don’t care about how you worked your charm, what i wanna know is why she practically ran out of here saying ‘i’m sorry’ over and over,” renjun said, earning himself a slap from jeno for both interrupting and exposing him.

“i was getting to that,” jeno huffed as he recalled this morning’s events, “well, uh, you see, when lila first came to korea she befriended… rina.”

“your ex rina?!” haechan’s high-pitched exclamation had the rest of the boys covering their ears with their hands.

“no, the waitress at the sushi restaurant rina,” jeno deadpanned, “of course, my ex rina! lila didn’t recognise me until this morning because, well, i-it was dark… and we, we weren’t exactly fully sober. but when she did, she pretty much left as soon as she could, saying that she felt awkward for getting with her closest friend’s ex and that she wasn’t gonna contact me again for the sake of their friendship.”

“damn.”

“that’s… unfortunate.”

“yikes.”

“i know,” jeno carelessly reached for another bottle of soju, taking a swig, “it’s rough.”

“you’re not the only one going through it,” renjun piped up, holding a shot glass in front of jeno’s bottle, gesturing to pour him some. after tipping the burning liquid down his throat, he sighed, “i stopped talking to chaeyeon, well, more like she stopped talking to me. she said she was never really that into me and that she just needed someone to entertain her for a bit so—”

snatching the bottle from jeno, renjun took another pitiful sip, the rest of the boys giving him sympathetic pats on the back or reassuring him that he’d find someone soon enough or maybe it was for the best.

“seems like none of us are having much luck with relationships lately,” haechan said, “i asked hyeyoon if she wanted to go on a third date any time soon and… she ghosted me.”

“oh dear,” jaemin winced, the second-hand embarrassment sending shivers down his spine. “renjun-ah, don’t hog that bottle, give hyuck some too,” he gripped the green bottle, lowering his voice, “come on, he needs this just as much as you do.”

he whined but gave in, handing the drink to his slightly more sober friend, “i assume you don’t have any news regarding your non-existent love life, jaem?”

“that’s meannnn, jun,” jeno lightly hit renjun again, this time for the snarky comment, “wait, jaem, what’s that face for? surely… no, it can’t be.”

the boy shrugged, the dreamy smile on his face completely unmoved. “well,” he paused to grab their attention, “there is this one girl…”

those words alone seemed to sober up jaemin’s best friends, as they all sat up, jaws agape and anticipating gazes on him. it was rare for jaemin to ever contribute to these conversations besides from providing emotional support or advice, so the mere mention of a girl on jaemin’s mind had piqued their interest. as he opened his mouth to continue, the boys simply hoped that it was going to be more than just another of his fleeting attractions.

JAEMIN CAM ■ GALLERY

“and remember, next week you’re gonna need a model for what we’re doing, so don’t forget to bring a friend along,” eunjin reminded the group before they all left, “ooh, and i’ll post a reminder on the club’s instagram story in case you’re super forgetful!”

jaemin whipped his phone out of his pocket, quickly typing the reminder ‘bring someone to photography club’ into his notes, already trying to figure out which of his friends would be the easiest to persuade to come along.

“ah, hyung, i’ll get going now, see you next thursday,” the enthusiastic second year engineering major jaemin had befriended waved goodbye to his senior, flashing a grin as he packed up his things and set off.

“see y– wait, jake! you almost left your camera bag,” jaemin called after him, handing him his belongings.“what’s got you in such a rush? you’d never leave your camera behind.”

the younger boy turned to retrieve his stuff, bowing to show his gratitude, “oh, thank you so much, hyung, i would’ve gone insane if i left this. my best friend’s waiting for me and she did not appreciate the extra time eunjin noona took at the end of the session–she’s impatient and hungry and it’s my turn to pay for dinner so if i don’t hurry up, i have to deal with a hangry y/n for longer than i’d like.”

“sim jaeyun! come on!” the voice of who jaemin assumed to be the ‘hangry y/n’ caught his attention, however, the annoying image he had envisioned in his head did not match up with the beauty he laid eyes on.

“calm down! i was just thanking jaemin hyung for giving me my camera back, which i wouldn’t have forgotten if you weren’t rushing me, geez,” jake rolled his eyes as he turned his back to you, mouthing a ‘see you’ to jaemin as he hurried to the door, “i’m coming, i’m coming!”

after packing away all of his equipment, jaemin set off on his way home, not forgetting to bow to eunjin on his way out.

“sorry, jakey, i just couldn’t wait,” he heard a much gentler version of the voice from before in front of him. looking up from his phone, jaemin recognised the two figures in front of him as the bickering best friends he’d encountered not even a few minutes ago.

“couldn’t wait to what? drain my bank account?” jake’s joking questions were met with complete silence, “oh, i see how it is!”

“kidding! i meant that i couldn’t wait to spend time with you now that you’re not busy with that big, mechanic… project, uh, thing. yes, i know what it’s called, i just don’t want to say all those long sciency words,” your whining brought a smile to jaemin’s face, having heard similar words from his own arts major friends.

his smile only grew as he crossed the road and saw you almost trip over the curb from laughing so hard at whatever jake had said next, too preoccupied by your joyous laughter and the way you beamed at your friend to have heard.

jaemin sighed as he looked on, wondering how fulfilling it would be to be the cause of that pretty smile or the reason behind your contagious giggles. or, to put it simply, he wondered how fulfilling it would be to loved.

JAEMIN CAM • REC

“na jaemin… are you joking,” haechan turned towards him, blinking slowly in disbelief at what he’d just heard, “another random crush that you saw for a few minutes and never again? we thought it was gonna be different this time, man.”

before jaemin could even defend himself, renjun seemed to have had some sort of epiphany, “woah, wait, slow your roll there, hyuck. i think our jaem might actually have a chance.”

“he does?”

“i do?” even jaemin was ready to admit that you were just another brief attraction, but hearing that he had even the slightest chance with you had his cheeks burning redder than ever, “c-could you elaborate?”

“i could… if you show us what this y/n looks like,” renjun cocked an eyebrow, holding his hand out to see if jaemin would accept his offer.

“wh-why would you wanna do that?” jaemin didn’t know if it was the drinks or the idea of his best friends potentially showing interest in you that had him fumbling over his words.

“calm down, we’re not gonna steal her from you,” jeno wrapped his arm around his shoulder, nuzzling into his side, “we wouldn’t do that to you, man, we’re just curious, that’s all.”

“mhm!” haechan chimed in, “we just wanna give her the best friend stamp of approval before we proceed.”

jaemin took a moment to consider his friends’ words, before retrieving his phone from the disgustingly messy table, “fine! but if any of you accidentally like any of her photos i swear i’m gonna… i’ll— i won’t be happy!”

the boys chuckled at their roommate’s sheer inability to get angry at them; his tolerance and kindness were just some of the things they loved about him, qualities they knew his future girlfriend would appreciate. they waited as jaemin opened instagram to find your page, haechan advising him to go through jake’s following to make it easier.

“what? like none of you have ever tried to stalk someone’s profile before,” haechan scoffed, leaning closer to the screen, “oh! right there, she’s tagged in his most recent post.”

clicking on the small square, a smile unknowingly crept onto jaemin’s face as he stared at the candid photo of you laughing with jake and another friend he was sure he’d seen before on his account. although the gentle hues of the sunset made for a picturesque background, he couldn’t help but think that you and your beaming smile were the most beautiful view of all.

“ahem… earth to jaemin?” renjun frantically waved his hand in front of the dazed boy’s face, “if you wanna gawk at her pics so badly, i would recommend checking out her account.”

the sarcasm dripping in his words would’ve normally had jaemin rolling his eyes, but he was too focused scrutinising every little detail of your profile. the aesthetically pleasing highlight covers were almost as eye-catching as the selfie you’d set as your profile picture, and the large array of posts featuring cute outfits, your friends, pretty views, and more selfies had jaemin curious to see more.

“ooh, ‘hyu second year philosophy student,’ a second year, ah, mark hyung does philosophy too,” jeno commented as he looked over your bio, “i don’t see anyone tagged in her bio, and there’s no dedicated highlight to a boyfriend or anything, so looks like she’s single!”

“not everyone documents their relationship on social media, that doesn’t automatically mean she’s single” renjun pointed out the obvious, smacking the back of jeno’s head. “but, we can figure that out later. so now that y/n’s got our stamp of approval, do you wanna know the plan or not, jaem?”

“wait, wait, we’re still looking!” haechan continued to tap on jaemin’s phone and scroll through your pictures, “she’s cuuute, pretty feed too.”

“i know, right?” jaemin sighed dreamily, earning a disgusted look from jeno, “sorry, sorry, go on, jun, what’s the plan?”

“you need to bring a model to photography club this week, don’t you?” renjun paused for jaemin to nod.

“based on what you’ve told us, jake and y/n seem very close, close enough that he’ll most likely bring her along as his model. if, and when, he brings her, you can actually go and talk to her, maybe get her number or something. as for making sure she’s single, whichever one of us you bring along can just discreetly ask your friend jake if y/n’s taken, and drop the hint that you’re interested—you could get him to help you out with her.”

a few moments of silence passed before jaemin launched himself onto renjun, engulfing him in a tight hug, “thank you, thank you, thank you! wow, i never would’ve thought that i’d actually have a chance with her but thanks to you and your genius mind, now i might. will you come with me on thursday, jun, please?”

“ah, you’re welcome, but y-you’re squeezing me, you’re almost as bad as jeno,” renjun pleaded, dramatically placing a hand on his chest when jaemin loosened his grip.

“i would love to, but thursday? i’m working on a ‘global sculpture through the ages’ exhibition that afternoon. i’m sorry, jaem, but i’m sure these two’ll be happy to help!”

“ooh, ooh, i am! i’m free then, and i’m happy to be your gorgeous model and your wingman all at once,” haechan mimed a hair flip, batting his lashes and grinning at jaemin.

jaemin knew he couldn’t stand the exaggerated facial expressions any longer and answered him, “okay, fine, hyuck! just— i know you can get very friendly, very quickly, so don’t drift off-topic and just stick to the plan, please, for me. if you succeed, i’ll buy you food after as a thank you.”

“woah, thanks, nana!” haechan snuggled into said boy’s side, showing his gratitude by acting annoyingly adorable, “i guess this means that operation ‘get jaemin a girlfriend’ is a go!”

his declaration was met with whoops and cheers, with jeno pouring everyone another round of shots to celebrate their roommate’s potential romance. as they raised their glasses and downed their drinks, jaemin squeezed his eyes shut and hoped, with all his heart, that their operation would be a success.

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