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vclvetfleur · 11 months

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Obedient Chapter 4

roman roy x fem! reader

Summary: After Roman insulted and berated you, you still showed up to work today. Romans plan of ruining Kendalls business idea completely backfired, in your eyes. You help Roman to try to win the love of his dad back.

Warnings: degrading, verbal abuse, Logan Roy

Word Count : 4.3K

Notes: There's a little bit of fluff in this one. But I really want to say thank you for all the kind words I got today on my story. I am really enjoying writing for this series. I already have an idea of what the next chapter will be. I also have an idea of how certain conflicts and all of that stuff will play out. So get ready. It's gonna be an emotional mess.

Chapter 4: Patrick Bateman

You had gotten up in the morning and were heading to work. If only you knew you had to buy a new wardrobe, you would’ve done so. But you were now just waiting for your first check to finally be able to go shopping. You had probably worn the same white blouse about 3 times already. You tried to hide it with the blazer you had on, but you were pretty sure people knew.

You got a text earlier from Roman but chose to ignore them. You weren’t interested in anything he had to say to you. Your phone buzzed again and again. At least you knew he was awake for work. He had no excuse not to be on time.

You scanned your brand new key card and made it through the building without having to have another awkward interaction with the cold receptionist again. You walked through the floor, checking to see if Roman was here yet. He hadn’t been in his office from what you can tell. You wandered around, fixing your notes for today, checking Romans emails for him and creating his schedule for the day; you did most of it on the ride here, but you were double checking. You looked up often to see if you could even spot him.

Finally, you spotted him. He was in his dad’s office with Kendall and Jess. You weren’t sure if you should intrude, Logan didn’t look too friendly. You just stood outside and reviewed your notes before hearing a banging on the window wall. Your glance removed itself from your iPad to Roman standing behind the wall, telling you to come in. You put the iPad away and walked right in. “Hello Mr. Roy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You wanted to leave a good impression. He had never met you yet but was apparently mentioning you. You thought it would at least make him rethink what he had said if he knew how nice you were.

“Hello.” He tried to be cordial. But he viewed you as beneath him. He didn’t care about how you felt or if you thought he was kind. Frankly, he didn’t care about anything other than himself.

Before you knew it, Logan continued to berate his two sons in front of you. You were taken aback by it. You thought he was tough sure, but you didn’t expect him to so freely scream at the two of them. Or anyone, this publicly. Does he not know people had phones and could record this? But then you remembered the NDA you had to sign.

“How could you two fucking morons ruin this so fucking quickly? You had 6 hours and you both FUCKED it. But what did I expect from a junkie who just went to a rehab place just to get a fucking massage and drink green fucking smoothies all day.” Logan insulted. Nothing could stop his mouth from saying whatever his brain was thinking of. “And you, what a fucking moron? You haven’t even been COO yet and you’re already fucking this up. This is why no one takes you seriously Roman. You’re a massive fuck up. The bane of my fucking existence and the companies. I could hand you a plastic cup and you would still manage to find a way to shatter it!”

Harsh. You looked over at Roman as he just stood there and took it. He tried to reason with him earlier. God there was that look again. The same one from last night; except more desperate and sadder. His arms were cross over his chest, but more in a way to make himself smaller than to make him look tougher. His shoulders were raised while his head remained low enough. He tried to make himself less of a target for his father. He was in the mentality if he made himself smaller, his dad wouldn’t see him clear enough to hurt him. “Well-uh-Dad-just-look I think if I get a chance; maybe I could get him to-fucking uhh- you know reconsider” He stumbled, trying to find the works to make his dad happy. What a mess. You felt pity for him. No wonder he was such a fucking asshole.

“Ooooh yes, my idiot son, you’ll be able to make him reconsider. The one who wouldn’t even get through with management training. I could give a chimp to do a better job than you. At least they’d make less of a fucking mess than you do.” Logan continued to berate him.

He barely even moved an inch and they both cowered under him, especially Roman. He just laid back in his fancy leather desk chair and moved his hands quick enough to emphasis his points. But despite that, he even scared you. “Go, go fucking fix this before I fucking decide you send you to a circus, fucking freak. Fuck off.” He sent them both on their way. Kendall rushed out, not before shoving Roman a bit to knock him against the door frame. He didn’t even try to fight back. You just tried to leave as quick as they did. “Come on.” You whispered, putting a hand on Romans back as you led him out of the room and down the hall.

“Are you done being fucking mad at me?” He asked in a desperate tone. You wanted to stay mad, but after watching him start his morning off like that made you feel too sorry for him. “Uhh- I haven’t decided yet.” You answered honestly. You got him to his office, shutting the blinds to make sure no one was looking at him right now. He didn’t need to see all those looks right now. Not now. Everyone essentially watched him and Kendall get berated and then him getting shoved and even further pushed down by his brother.

“Are you gonna fuck me or something? What’s with the blinds? Did you bring a ball gag? Is this your way of punishing me after the party?” He used humor to distract you from the clear pity you felt for him. He didn’t enjoy this kind of attention so much. Probably cause he got it so often. It was the most attention would give him other than complete disgust.

“No, I just don’t think you need a whole floor of people looking at you like a sad damaged puppy.” You were honest about it.

And Roman appreciated it. He knew he paid you, but you didn’t really need to do all of that. You didn't need to act like you gave a fuck. You did it cause you were just a good person. You cared enough. It kind of warmed up his cold iced heart a bit. You finished closing all the blinds before pulling your iPad out. “Now I’m going to help you fix the situation.” You stated.

“I don’t fucking need help.” He let out a breathe. “Just get Castello on the phone for me. I have this all planned already.” He revealed. “What? Planned?” You could almost take back the pity you felt for him.

He knew what the morning would be like. He inserted himself in this just so he could talk to Castello later again and earn their trust and be able to squeeze more from them. Kendall might’ve gotten the deal from them, but they only agreed to 50% of their company. Logan wanted all of it. If Roman can at least convince them for more than half, he’d be daddy’s favorite again. He just needed the validation from Logan. To be told he was at least good at something. Some kind of recognition.

“Yeah, I’m an evil fucking mastermind. Just call him. Tell him I wanna get lunch.” He gave you an alibi. You just nodded and made the call. And right in front of your eyes you just watched as Roman did all of his dirty work. He just knew the right words to say to sweet talk them into lunch. You were almost impressed. You looked down at your notes and decided to move a few things around so he could have lunch with Castello at 1 today at some kind of restaurant that you couldn’t even pronounce.

He shut the phone line before looking up at you amused. He felt accomplished. “Do I get a congratulatory fuck or do I get one after I land this deal?” He assumed you’d be ready to just joke around with him again. But you just didn’t have it in you.

His face dropped realizing you were ignoring him. He felt a panic set in. He never liked when people didn’t laugh with or at him or just tease him or bully him back because it made him think they were less mad. But completely shutting down or not speaking made him feel like he lost them. As if they were never going to speak again. He knew it was irrational, but it’s just something he picked up from Caroline. She would shut down whenever she didn’t care enough to deal with them. Logan didn’t help either.

“Do you really need an apology that badly?” he groaned as if it was saying one simple word would be the end of him. It was a burden to him. If he said sorry, he acted as though he would lose a limb. “Jesus fucking Christ, I’m sorry, okay? You fucking happy now? I am sorry I called you a fucking peasant or whatever the fuck I said.” He tried to make it quick. It was almost like hearing a 5 year old apologizing about breaking their sibling’s truck.

You took a deep breath and just began to read your notes. Your patience ran thin. That was not an apology. And you were going to just take the bare minimum from him. Not after last night. “God fucking damn it. You’re fucking impossible.” He felt his frustration nearing the end.

“Roman, stop. I’m not forgiving you. You’ve been selfish and rude, and you embarrassed me yesterday. I can’t forgive you when you’re acting like you don’t even want to.”

“I do. I just usually pay people off and they forget it. Fine. How much do you want on top of your already ridiculous paycheck?” He asked. He couldn’t be serious. But he was. He pulled his checking book out and was ready to sign a check for you. “Help me write this. Someone usually does this for me.”

“Roman stop. I don’t want money. I don’t know what I want from you anymore.” You said bluntly. If an apology out of him was going to be so hard, you didn’t want it. It wasn’t going to feel authentic. You knew he wasn’t sorry. He was incapable of it. “Just let it go, we’ll be fine.” You finally decided. You’ll forgive. Just won’t forget. You were going to play it a bit more cautious with him. He nodded quickly like a child who just got reprimanded.

“So uh, what’s first for today?” He asked before you started reading your notes once again. He was trying to act professional enough with you. Either way, he needs to be in a good head space for the deal. You didn’t want to add any unnecessary stress to him. “Do you need anything? Coffee? Breakfast?” You asked. His eyes softened looking over at you from his computer screen. He quietly nodded. “Uh-just a coffee.” You nodded, opening the blinds again before stepping out. You grabbed him a coffee and set it back on his desk quick enough.

“So, when did you have time to ruin Kendall’s deal?” You asked. You hadn’t spent the whole day with him, but you knew his schedule. When did he even have the time to make them back out?

“Well, if you really need to know my master plan, I called him before the party, we talked and I just told him what a dipshit Ken was, then at the party, he saw Ken after doing a speedball in the bathroom. He practically ruined it himself.” He revealed. You were stunned by how casually he was speaking about it. He had no remorse. Not one ounce of it. He said it as if it was just any other day. You were kind of impressed though, despite your intense hate for capitalism.

“Should I replace your name in my phone as Dr Evil?” You smiled before pulling your phone out.

“I’m not a fucking doctor moron.” He insulted.

“It’s a movie from the 90’s Roman.” You informed him. But he seemed to not get the reference of it.

“Insulting to think I wasn’t born in the 2000’s.” He giggled to himself. His body finally seemed to relax. His smile seemed to come back. He needed this. This comfort.

“Your skin care routine isn’t working that well. I don’t know if you can call cumming in your own face a skin care routine though.”

“Why not? Worked great for you back in college, didn’t it? Looks like you had the whole football team bukkake after every game.” All you could do was shake your head at his comments in complete horror, but also just in complete entertainment.

For the rest of the day, you both just went back and forth until it was time to finally get ready to leave for Lunch. You had made the reservation earlier and made sure you were going to get a table that Roman said was “pleasing enough to let Castello get bent over and sodomized”.

You rode in the limo as Roman went over his game plan with you. You nodded as you tried to take notes and see if he needed any adjustment to his strategy. All he needed was your pity to make everything feel good with him again as most of his relationships were.

He walked in with you following before he had left you behind. You weren’t really allowed to sit in a private meeting like this because it wasn’t an official one. He didn’t want to spook them by getting too professional. Just casual enough to make them dumb enough to give their company away. He was better at casual than all the official and professional stuff. Kendall was better at that but sucked at casual meetings.

You didn’t mind though; you were able to at least sit in the restaurant and just have some time to yourself. You went through your own phone rather than worrying about Roman and his life. You sipped on a mimosa that you were sure was gonna be paid for by Roman. You felt a tap on your shoulder, looking up at a very happy Roman. He got them to sell. You got up, trying not to show too much excitement for him in front of the clients. You moved along with him before getting in his car. Once the doors shut, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, basically pouncing on him. “Congratulations Roman!” You squealed.

His body scrunched up and his hands didn’t really know what to do. His mind couldn’t work fast enough to comprehend what was happening. His hand laid on the small of your back, his body still tense. He breathed in, holding his breath before taking in your own scent. You smelled sweet. Floral but sweet. It seemed to make his body less tense. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy your touch, he did. It just wasn’t something he knew how to deal with. He never got hugs. Not from his siblings. Or his dad. Or mum. He never knew what to do. But your touch was soft, but rough at the same time. Not even rough in the sense of toughness, but security. You held him so tight that it was like being protected. You wanted to hold all of the happiest emotions you both shared between the two of you, hoping it didn’t evaporate when you let go. Your hands, that laid on the back of his neck, were soft. Delicate. They gripped onto him, but not rough enough to even leave a mark. But before he could officially react, you pulled away.

“We should celebrate.” You proposed. He just stared at you as if you were crazy. He shook his head, letting out a nervous laugh.

“It’s fine, I’ll invite my orgy buddies for a celebration.” He cleared his throat.

“You seem to hang out with them a lot. Come on. It doesn’t have to be so formal. It could be me and you and something to drink. It’ll be fun. I’ll even show you who Dr. Evil is.” You pushed. You thought it was important for him to feel celebrated about his accomplishments. His dad didn’t seem to ever acknowledge anything good he did. From the 5 minutes you spent in a room with them, you wanted to show Roman his dad wasn’t completely right. “So, what happened? What deal did you land?” You asked.

Roman filled you in on the boring details, but he ended with them selling their entire company for 85 million. They were some film studios that had a few hit classics. They were an indie brand that had at least 4 movies become classics that art and film students now talk about in their dorm room while getting high all day. They nearly didn’t have enough of a budge to make something they even wanted though. Hence why they were willing to give up half or even all of it to start a new studio to make even bigger budget films.

“That’s great Roman!” You clapped.

“Yeah Yeah, why don’t you stroke my dick even harder?” He said before feeling you shove him hard enough for his head to hit the window of the car. “Jesus.” He cried, holding his head. You hid your mouth with your hand, muffled giggles trying to hide the giant smile you had on your face. They left your mouth as Roman smacked your arm hard enough for them to move out of the way. Soon enough you both ended up pushing and shoving one enough in the back before finally breaking it up.

“You hit like a fucking girl.” He mumbled.

“And you hit like you have a limp wrist.” You mocked.

“Okay wow. And you hit like you wrestle bums on the street.” Roman hit back, not knowing if making poor jokes at you were okay yet.

“Really? Didn’t you just learn to stop saying that stupid shit?” You warned. You weren’t too serious though. It was a clever enough joke. “Fuck you’re like that one weird fucker from American Psycho.”

“If you’re saying I’m as sexy as Patrick Bateman than thank you. He happens to be my idol” He smirked.

“Oh really?” You scoffed.

He nodded, while you both couldn’t help yourself from laughing in the back seat of the car. And all the feelings you felt from yesterday afternoon flooded back. You were doing everything you can to hear his laugh again. It made you feel good. But not like how it did when anyone laughed at your jokes. It was flutterier. It felt warmer. You found yourself gazing at him even more. You ignored all the sights to be see on the road, just cause you were scared to miss a moment of his face. And now you felt humiliated to even be feeling this in the first place. It felt extremely wrong. Like you were committing some kind of crime. If anyone knew, you’d probably hide away forever from embarrassment. It was Roman Roy. He was the most self-centered, pretentious, disgusting, backstabbing, manipulative person you have ever met. But you saw another side of him. You saw some kind of good in him that made you ignore all of those character flaws.

You both headed back to the office together before Roman seemed to be heading to Logans office to give him the news. You halted a bit before following. You were nervous to be stepping in his office again. Logan was unpredictable.

“Hey, so you remember when you were screaming at Ken for fucking up the deal. Well, your favorite son, just bought the entire company.” He tried to keep himself from smiling to big.

“How much?” He asked, he wasn’t ready to celebrate Roman yet.

“Well-uh just – about 30 more than we talked about.” He tried to be cautious not to upset Logan any further. Logan let out a huff, shaking his head. “But- uh I can maybe convince them to go down to 75, or 70. We didn’t sign or make anything official yet.” Roman tried to quickly save it. You just stood there and stared at him with pity.

“You both are fucking morons. I could’ve finished this deal over a 5 minute phone call, but I’m having you two fucking idiots jumping around playing card tricks with malnourished art kids.” His voice felt like it could make the entire room shake. Roman just leaned on the back of his dads’ couch, head lowers again and just nodded along. He was too scared to upset him any further.

“Uh got it. I’ll have her just tell them to come by and I’ll just uh- “He tried to find words to say. He didn’t even have a joke in this moment. He had his ego raised way too high by you before going to his dad. He let his guard down. He always expected disappointment from Logan. But you really made him think that Logan might be proud.

“I’m pretty sure Roman could do it. I mean he got them to even come back to sell after- “You tried to reason. You didn’t know why you did that. You shouldn’t of. You just couldn’t help it.

“You. What’s your name?” Logan asked. You raised your eyebrows as if to ask ‘me?’. “Yes, you. There’s only the three of us here and I think I know my sons fucking name well enough.”

“Uh sorry. Y/n. I was just trying to say that Kendall really scared them off last night. I was at the party and Kendall was basically just acting like a complete lunatic. Roman was actually super focused.” You continued to make your case for Roman. He looked at you, not knowing to feel scared for you or just glad he had someone at his corner of the fight.

“You don’t think I don’t know what a fuck up those two are? Huh?” Logans anger was leaking throughout the room and whoever was within a mile radius had to deal with it, including you.

“I think she just was referring to the horse tranquilizer Kendall shoved up his ass that party.” Roman tried to save you from any more scrutiny from his own father.

“I don’t give a rats ass what Kendall did...” Logan finally took a pause. He seemed to be thinking of what his next move could possibly be. “Get them here now and if they don’t agree to anything below 60, they can fuck off.” This was our cue to leave the room. Logan had a way of dismissing people. He just went cold and silent. Once he did, you had about 30 seconds to leave before he erupted again. Roman nodded before standing up straight and leaving. “Got it.” You followed.

“I’ll get them on the phone right now.” You quietly spoke before giving them another call. Once you reached them, you handed the phone off to Roman. You managed to get them right before Logan was going to leave for work, which could be a relief if Roman was able to make the deal.

Once they got there, it was your time to be the little assistant that did whatever they asked and stayed quiet. You brought drinks to the table and sat behind Roman, take notes and drafting a contract up.

“Look, my dad’s upset. He originally meant to pay you guys 40. And he doesn’t appreciate getting a dick shoved up his ass. He’s especially pissed that you even backed out in the first place.” He tried to reason. He tried to make it sound as if they lost their deal, which would be a blow on them. They needed to sell something. If they didn’t, they would just end up going to another company, which they maybe planned to. After backing out, they went into talk with Pierce. But Pierce didn’t know movies and have the advertising Waystar had. “I can maybe get my dad to convince me to pay for it for 50.” He sighed. They went back in forth in negotiating before finally landing onto 52.

You printed out a contract, Roman leaving you with them as you made them sign away the rights to their business. This felt so scummy to you. Again, you practically work for the devil. Except the devil had an even worse and scarier father. You grabbed the papers when they finished and cleaned up the room before seeing them out of the door.

Roman never saw these small companies as anything big, but you made him feel like he had just bought his dads arch nemesis’s company. As if it was an important deal. In reality Waystar could’ve done or done without the company, but the fact he even got it and you were proud of him for it, made all of it worth it. He proudly went to tell his dad. His dad just looked up at him and nodded before going back to his work. That was the only kind of attention Logan would even give in this situation. But it was enough for Roman. And more important to Roman was to see Kendall watch Castello walk out.

“What was that? Why are they here?” Kendall asked.

“I bought them out.” Roman smiled, gloating in his brothers’ face. “Ya, they said something about me being the hotter and funnier one. Oh, and dad said you’re fired. And you’re adopted.” He was so proud. And it was all thanks to you.

Note: i apologize for adding Logan into this so soon. and with this apology, i'm going to be whipping out my ukulele and singing about it.

Chapter 5

#roman roy #succession #succession hbo #kendall roy #roman roy fanfic #shiv roy #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #hbo succession #succession fanfic #tom wambsgans #siobhan roy #hbo max #hbo original #hbo series #greg hirsch #connor roy #logan roy

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envy-of-the-apple · 1 year

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Yandere!Toji Fushiguro x reader

Trade off

So i accidentally deleted the toji ask like an idiot im really sorry anon bestie:( you tried. I just failed.

Prequel and if enough ppl like it ill finish the fic i just wanna see how this does

(Yandere, breaking/entering, attempted plan to murder, etc, etc idk)

Living near the countryside has desensitized you to the thumps and crashes you’d hear at night. In the beginning you’d be paranoid, laying in your bed for hours before gathering the courage to step out of the room, trusty bat in hand, only to find a stray cat staring back, right beside an open window. Nowadays, you’re coolly shooing away whatever creature that finds their way in your home. Mostly it’s cats, sometimes you’d get the occasional bird or racoon.

The situation has happened so many times that you aren’t even surprised to hear the soft rattle that comes from your kitchen tonight. You’re already moving, rousing from your soft bed, grabbing your trusty broom ready to scare away whatever creature you’d find scurrying about your kitchen floor. A rat, most likely.

But the thing rustling through your fridge is no rodent, and you don’t recognize this man.

It doesn’t occur to you that you’re being robbed until half a second later. Mainly because of how casual this bizarre situation is. He’s rifling through your food like it’s normal and you’re the weirdo carrying the broom.

“Damn, there’s nothing here. Do you not eat or something?”

You assume he’s thinking out loud, but he glances back at you like he expected you there.

“I-I haven’t gotten the chance to go shopping this week,” You find yourself replying.

He gives a hum, slamming the fridge shut, standing to his full height and you’re instantly aware of how ill-prepared you are to fight him. He’s huge, not just in height. He looks better fit for a bodybuilder than a run-of-the-mill robber.

You left your phone upstairs. Why the fuck did you leave your phone upstairs?

You lower your broom, trying to make yourself seem as little threatening as you can. Your mind is running too fast to conjure any real thoughts, but the part of you that hasn’t completely broken down yet is telling you it’s better to avoid any confrontation. A distraction.

“There’s a TV in the next room,” You numbly point towards the living room, “It’s brand new….would probably go for a thousand.”

He barely seems interested, eyes flicking to glance over before going to you.

“That’s nice,” He waves your offer off, “But I’m not here to steal your stuff.”

“You’re…you’re not?” You reply weakly.

There’s a grin on his face, a touch away from being maniacal. His hand is brushing his hip, lightly playing with the hilt of a gun.

Oh.

Maybe it’s because you’re still half asleep, your brain isn’t working as efficiently, it takes you a bit longer to process his intentions. When it finally does, the realization hits you like a train. Your mouth gets dry, it suddenly feels so cold. Fear. You’ve never felt fear like this before.

You don’t notice the steps you take backward. He does. The man groans in something you can only discern as annoyance.

“Don’t do that,” He frowns, “Come on, I’m trying to be nice here. I can’t chase you around the house, I'm supposed to make it look like an accident.”

His nonchalance is terrifying. Like he’s done this before. He probably has. How many people has he murdered in their own homes? How many bodies does it take to be so calm around imminent death?

You don’t have time to wonder, not when something he said catches your attention.

“Were…were you hired to come here?”

His mouth twitches and it looks like he’s thinking. Finally, he shrugs, like the information he gives won’t really do anything to harm him.

“Yeah, some rich folk in the city. Can’t remember their names for shit though.”

Someone had a vendetta against you? Enough to want to kill you? Your mind is running through every single name, every quarrel you’ve had. Family members, friends, acquaintances. Nothing enough comes up.

Nothing is supposed to. Only crazy people hire hitmen.

And hitmen are even crazier.

You take another step back.

He takes another forward.

(End of prequel)

#yandere #yandere togi #togi x reader #dark toji fushiguro #Breaking and Entering #yandere toji fushiguro x reader #hitman toji fushiguro #yandere jjk x reader #yandere jjk #dark jjk #dark content

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astaraels · 5 months

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Keeping Warm Against the Cold

Two newlyweds, a snowy day, a pile of Gallaghers, and lots of memories. for the wonderful @callivich! This is kind of a sequel to my fic, New Traditions, but you don't have to have read that to read this one. post-s10. Warning for some slight homophobic language between queer characters, but it's meant to be in good humor. (on ao3)

Mickey knocked the snow from his boots as he made his way up the front steps of the house. He exhaled deeply, his breath hanging visible in the air from the cold. Snow fell silently all around in the slow sunset, an almost eerie feeling with the streets so uncharacteristically silent. The lights from inside the house looked warm and inviting, though, and Mickey hurried through the front door.

A blast of warm air hit him in the face—thank fuck, too, since it meant someone managed to get the electric bill paid on time—and he kicked his boots off in the entryway. The lights from the tree twinkled brightly as Mickey entered the living room, and he could see the presents under the tree were all wrapped a little haphazardly. Debbie and Sandy were lying on the couch on top of one another as Mickey shrugged off his coat, and Franny played with her toys on the floor close by.

“Can’t you lesbos take it somewhere else?” Mickey said without any heat to his voice. “There’s fuckin’ kids here.” Debbie raised an eyebrow at him, but he just grinned back. She rolled her eyes, and then made a big show of leaning down and planting a huge smack of a kiss on Sandy’s lips, while his cousin grabbed at Debbie’s ass over her jeans.

“Sorry, Mick, it’s dyke central in here,” Sandy told him. “Better luck next time.”

“Plus, you and Ian still haven’t apologized for fucking on the couch last month,” said Debbie. “The brand new couch. You have a room, you know. My eyes still can’t unsee it.”

Mickey shrugged. It wasn’t his fault they’d gotten a little frisky while having the house to themselves for once. How were they supposed to know Debbie would get home from work early that day?

“Sorry, little red. Guess the shine ain’t worn off just yet.” He held up his left hand, waggling his ring finger to show off the silver wedding band.

“Gross,” she said, but the look she gave him was equal parts exasperated and fond. “Ian’s upstairs with Carl and Lip trying to rearrange the furniture, by the way.”

“They’re still not done with that shit?” The Gallagher brothers were moving Carl’s things into Liam’s room for the winter, since the RV had proven to be far too cold to keep a baby in. So Lip, Tami, and Fred would take the brothers’ old room until the weather warmed up. Mickey wasn’t thrilled about more people in the house—shit was crowded enough, especially since Sandy had apparently moved her crap into Debbie’s room and made herself at home—but at least he could always retreat to his and Ian’s room.

“Yeah, apparently little miss middle class wanted to get the vacuum out. I didn’t even know there was one here,” Sandy said, snorting with laughter. Mickey, who had never used a vacuum in his life, just shook his head and called out to Franny as he tossed her a candy bar he’d grabbed on the way out of the store.

“Thanks, uncle Mickey!” she exclaimed.

Debbie glanced over at the bag Mickey held in his hand, eyebrows shooting up and a knowing grin crossing her face. “Is that Ian’s present? The one we talked about?”

Suddenly self-conscious, Mickey gripped the plastic handles of the bag and held it close to his side. “Well, I mean—yeah. It was the only fuckin’ thing I could find at the last minute, so it’s better than nothin’, ya know?”

The look on his sister-in-law’s face told him that for all his blustering, she could see right through him. Debbie had always been good at that, after all. “Well, I think he’s gonna love it, so don’t worry too much. But you’d better go get it wrapped, get it under the tree. Christmas is just a few days away.” Mickey had gotten one or two other—private—gifts for Ian, but this one was what he could actually open on Christmas morning with the family. Even though he knew it wasn’t a big deal—they were married, for fuck’s sake, he could get his husband something sentimental for Christmas if he fuckin’ wanted to—he still felt his face heat up with a little awkwardness as Debbie gave him an excited grin. “Go on, get moving, before those idiots get done moving furniture.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fuckin’ going,” he muttered, but it only served to make Debbie and Sandy laugh. As he headed up the stairs he could hear Franny offering a piece of her chocolate to the two of them, all polite and good mannered and shit. Kid was a cute one—Debbie had managed to raise her right.

Soon enough, Mickey could hear the familiar voices of his husband and brothers-in-law, although he wasn’t able to make out exactly what they were saying. He went into his and Ian’s room, looking around for a good place to hide Ian’s gift where the sneaky asshole wouldn’t find it. Underwear drawer was out; so was under the bed. Even though they never cleaned there, it would be just like Ian to do so when Mickey specifically did not want him to look in that exact spot. He briefly considered hiding it in Debbie’s room, but he didn’t want to be held responsible for Franny breaking it. Not that he thought the little girl would do anything on purpose—she was good as gold, for all the chaos she’d been through in her short five years—but kids were clumsy and he didn’t wanna risk it.

The closet was cluttered, things thrown about haphazardly under the clothes they’d managed to hang up on the rack. His gaze fell on the gun safe he kept shoved in the back corner; it was just the right size to keep Ian’s gift hidden. Mickey went to get the key out of the sock drawer (he still wasn’t used to some of the ways his husband organized things, but if it made Ian happy, Mickey figured he could get used to it), then shoved a bunch of shit out of the way in the closet so he could pull the gun safe out. He didn’t have any wrapping paper, so he’d have to wait until the next day to make it all nice and shit. Ian was going with Carl to do some last minute shopping anyway, as long as the weather held up, so he’d have some time. The gift fit inside the box, although just barely, so Mickey locked it back up and put it back in the closet just as he heard Ian’s voice coming closer to their room. He shoved the closet door closed and scrambled onto the bed, trying to look casual, when his husband walked in and grinned at him.

“Hey, Mick,” Ian said brightly. “When’d you get back home?”

“Eh, not long. Maybe ten, fifteen minutes.” Mickey moved over to make room for Ian, who seemed all too happy to sit down next to him on the bed. He leaned over and put a hand on Mickey’s cheek so he could pull him in for a long, lingering kiss. Honestly, Mickey didn’t think he’d ever get used to it, especially the feeling of the matching silver wedding band on Ian’s ring finger against his skin. They’d only been married for two months now, but like he’d told Debbie, the shine still hadn’t worn off yet. Mickey pulled Ian in closer, a hand on his shoulder, and grinned against his lips at the feeling of warmth that radiated off his husband. Ian was like a space heater, which was great when the weather was like this, all freezing cold and snowing like nobody’s business.

“Missed you,” Ian said against Mickey’s lips, sending a thrill up Mickey’s spine. Two little words that threatened to make him melt like the biggest sap in existence. Then again, the gift in the closet was plenty enough evidence that he was nothing but whipped for Ian fuckin’ Gallagher, and he didn’t give a shit who knew it, either. So what if Lip was gonna give Mickey shit for it on Christmas morning? Ian would love it—Debbie had assured Mickey of that, which was nice of her, but he knew the moment they’d seen it in the shop that it’d been perfect—and that was all that mattered, really.

“Yeah, yeah, missed you too, Gallagher.” Mickey patted Ian’s cheek and smiled softly. “You guys finally get everything fixed up to Blondie’s liking?”

Ian rolled his eyes, but chuckled at Mickey’s nickname for Tami. “Yeah—took a while, but we made it work. Liam’s being a good sport about sharing with Carl, at least. I’m just glad Fred won’t be out in the cold.” After having lived out of a car with his family when he was younger, Mickey knew that the whole situation definitely hit a sore spot for Ian. Personally, Mickey didn’t give a fuck about Lip, but he did agree with Ian that the kid didn’t deserve to freeze. “Thought you said your errands were gonna take longer. Not that I’m complaining about you being back early.”

With a snort of laughter, Mickey snuggled back against Ian, pulling his husband’s arms around him for the warmth. “Roads are shit right now,” he explained. “Smart people are stayin’ home, keepin’ warm, that kinda thing.”

“What, are you saying you’re not smart?” Ian teased, pressing a kiss to Mickey’s jaw. Mickey decided not to dignify that with a response. Instead, he reached around and pinched Ian’s side, right in the spot he knew his husband was most ticklish. It got exactly the reaction he was hoping for—Ian jumped, not having seen it coming, but then he got back at Mickey and shoved him against the mattress with a laugh as he decided to tickle him back.

“Fuck you, Gallagher!” Mickey managed to get out, kneeing him in the stomach to try and get the upper hand. It worked well enough—Ian was caught off-guard long enough for Mickey to get him on his back and pin his hands over his head. It didn’t stop Ian from grinning like a madman, though, and he leaned up to kiss him hard; when he pushed Mickey backwards against the pillows, Mickey didn’t protest or fight, for once. He liked the way it felt when Ian pressed him into the mattress, the weight of his husband on top of him making Mickey feel safe and secure. Warmth radiated off of him in waves as Ian pulled Mickey into a spooning cuddle, nuzzling the back of his neck and pressing a light kiss there just below his hairline.

“Gotcha,” Ian murmured against Mickey’s ear.

Mickey bit his lip and tried not to grin. “Uh huh,” he said. “Ever think of the fact that I got ya right where I want ya?”

Ian shook his head, arms tightening around Mickey for a moment in a hug. “Nah,” he said. “I’ve got you , Mr. Gallagher.”

“Well, Mr. Milkovich, I guess we’re both getting what we want, then.” Mickey’s cheeks were burning with heat, and not just from Ian’s embrace. Even after all these years, Ian could still make him blush like a fucking teenager with a stupid crush. It wasn’t his fault his husband was a sappy bitch, though, and he could enjoy that now. Sometimes he had to remind himself about that, about the fact that he got to wake up next to Ian and go to sleep next to him and kiss him every day for the rest of his life. After they’d spent so long with their lives and relationships in turmoil, through breakups and mental illness and prison sentences and all the rest of it, they’d made it to this point.

Sometimes Mickey wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. Then he would shake his head and decide not to question it, before the universe decided he was too happy and figured it needed to fix that for him.

Mickey turned in Ian’s arms, albeit with some difficulty, then put his own arms over his husband’s shoulders. “Seem pretty feisty today, Red,” he mentioned casually. “Holidays really get you excited, huh?”

With a bashful glance to the side, Ian shrugged, unable to fight the smile that crossed his face. “I’m just happy,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to Mickey’s lips. “You know, technically I think this is our first Christmas together.”

“Nah,” Mickey said, frowning slightly. “We had the one—right after you had your, uh…your first crash.” He didn’t like saying depressive episode , because it always felt too clinical. “Remember? The kid’s first one—you and Svet made us watch Home Alone three times in a row, and then the stupid Muppet one.” He’d never admit it, but Mickey really did love the Muppet Christmas Carol. Svetlana hadn’t stopped singing the opening number from that one for at least a week every time Mickey walked in a room, even getting Ian and Mandy in on it. That had been the first time Mickey saw Ian smile after weeks of him being stuck in bed, and whatever else he felt about it, Mickey had been grateful to Svetlana for helping pull Ian out of the fog. Whatever else had happened, no matter how it all fell apart, it had been the first good Christmas Mickey could remember.

“...I kinda remember it,” Ian said, sounding a little lost in thought. “Mandy got Yev that Santa onesie, and then she made me help her with Christmas cookies.”

Mickey snorted. “Yeah, and you guys got more cookie batter all over the fuckin’ kitchen than you got in the bowl for the actual cookies.” They hadn’t been great—neither Mandy nor Ian were the best at baking—but the thought and effort mattered more than anything. It had taken all of them to pull Ian out of the darkness in his own mind. They hadn’t had much of a tree, just something that had fallen off the back of a truck, and half the Christmas lights they’d strung up were dead bulbs, but seeing Ian smile again after so long had been worth it. He hadn’t been a ghost for much longer after that.

“...maybe we should call Mandy for Christmas,” Ian suggested quietly. “I got a text from her a few months back, with her new number. She heard about the trial, wanted to see how I was doing.”

Mickey felt a pang in his chest at the thought of his sister. They hadn’t spoken in years, not since she’d run off to Indiana with that fucking bastard of a boyfriend who’d beaten her black and blue, but Ian had seen her a few times in the years since. Told Mickey that she’d been doing better, been living on the West Side last he heard, and had not-so-subtly hinted at maybe getting back in touch. It was a strange thought—they’d been close when they were younger, but he didn’t know how she’d feel about hearing from Mickey after all this time. “...you really think she’d wanna hear from me?”

Ian nodded. “Yeah, Mick, I do.” He’d brought up the idea of reaching out to Svetlana and the kid as well, although that was a bit more of a complicated situation itself. Mickey still had mixed feelings about Yevgeny, but part of him did miss the cobbled together family that they’d created, all those years ago in the Milkovich house. When they were happy together, all of them; when he could look at Yevgeny and Svetlana without bile rising in his throat. Things were more complicated than he’d realized at the time—he knew that now—and it probably hadn’t been much different for her, either. Last he heard she’d married some old geezer and was living it up on the North Side. He could admit it now that he’d been a piece of shit back then. Maybe now that he and Ian had fixed things between them, they could fix some other things as well.

“Yeah, well…lemme think about it.” He felt Ian press a kiss against his hair in acknowledgement, but thankfully his husband didn’t push the issue further than that. Mickey wasn’t ready for it, not just now, but he thought he might get there soon enough.

The two of them settled into a quiet, cozy silence, Ian resting his chin on top of Mickey’s head. Mickey closed his eyes and leaned back against Ian’s broad chest, enjoying the way his husband’s arms enveloped him and made him feel safe and warm. When he cracked open one eyelid he could see the snow still falling out the window, steady and unlikely to stop any time soon. Perfect weather to stay in bed, curled up with the love of his life to keep them both warm and comfortable.

The two of them eventually slid down the bed until they were lying with their heads on the same pillow, Ian snuggling his face against the back of Mickey’s neck. He couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be right now, especially with how warm and comfortable his husband was against him. Let it fuckin’ snow for all he cared. This was the best place, the best feeling in the world.

As he’d suspected, the next morning found the snow piled up at least six inches, much to Franny’s delight. Debbie had had to cancel her jobs for the day, and both Lip and Tami had gotten calls that their workplaces were closed from the weather as well. Chicago was used to plenty of snow, and they’d already put snow chains on their tires in anticipation, but this time it had come with a half an inch of ice according to the weatherman on TV. Better to stay home than chance ruining one of the few vehicles the family could use.

After breakfast, Liam and Franny had run upstairs to get their winter things on, since Franny had insisted that they go play together. Tami sat at the table feeding Fred while Carl was on the phone to let his boss know he’d be in late. “You and half the city,” Lip told him. “Who’s gonna commit a crime during a fuckin’ blizzard, anyway?”

“You never know what people are gonna do,” Carl said, shrugging his shoulders. Mickey silently agreed with that—he and Iggy and Colin would ride the L to the North Side in the aftermath of a bad storm sometimes, see if they could break into homes that rich fucks had left empty while they spent the winters in Florida or some bullshit. Not that he was gonna admit it to a fuckin’ cop, even one that happened to be his brother-in-law.

“Uncle Ian! Come with me!” Franny called as she jumped down the steps two at a time, the laces of her boots coming untied. With a laugh, Debbie motioned her little girl over so she could re-tie them for Franny. Sandy scooped a big spoonful of cereal into her mouth, glancing over at the mother and daughter pair next to her. His cousin liked to talk a big game, but Mickey could tell she already had a soft spot for Franny. Her and Debbie’s relationship had been like a whirlwind, with her even moving her stuff in a week after his and Ian’s wedding, and this tended to be when Sandy started feeling trapped. Mickey knew the feeling, and he knew his cousin—he should probably talk to her at some point so she didn’t try to bolt the way she always did. Maybe in the past he’d never bothered interfering in her relationships, but he didn’t want to see Debbie hurt. And maybe he thought it’d be good for Sandy not to sabotage what seemed to be a pretty good thing, either.

“All right, Franny, I’ll come with you,” Ian agreed, tugging gently on her pigtails and making the little girl giggle. “Sandy? Debbie? You guys gonna come?”

Sandy shrugged, chewing another spoonful of cereal as she thought it over. “Sure, why not?”

“I’ll get my coat,” Ian said, then glanced over at Mickey, who was sitting in the corner and drinking his coffee. “Mick? You coming?”

Mickey shook his head. “Gotta help Debbie get some more of that Christmas shit outta the attic,” he said. Technically it wasn’t a lie—the wrapping paper was in the attic—and thank fuck Debbie backed him up.

“There’s some old Christmas dresses up there in a box, I wanna see if any of them will fit Franny. And we might have some Christmas stuff for Fred, too!” she added, looking over at Tami. “Sheila made a really cute Christmas sweater for Liam one year, I think we still have it in storage. It’d look really cute on Fred.”

Tami didn’t look entirely thrilled, but Lip nodded with a slight smile. “Yeah, I remember that one—with the fucked up looking reindeer on it, right?”

“You want to put our son in a Christmas sweater with fucked up reindeer on it?”

Lip shrugged. “His first ugly Christmas sweater. Rich people are all about that shit, aren’t they?”

As the two of them went back and forth on the subject, Mickey finished his coffee and took his mug over to the sink just as Ian passed him while pulling on his coat. He reached out and brushed his hand across Mickey’s shoulders. It was just a small touch, but it meant everything that they could have this now, openly showing affection in front of Ian’s family without anyone batting an eyelid. A far cry from the way things were when Mickey lived here the first time. When he and Ian were still an open secret, when Mickey was still terrified that anyone might find him out. But now all that happened was a sly grin from Sandy across the room, more a reminder of their conversation from the day before than anything.

Ian held his arms out and Franny came running to him; he lifted her up into the biggest bear hug he could manage and she shrieked with laughter. “Let’s go! Let’s go!” she chanted as Liam came down the stairs bundled up in a hat, coat, scarf, gloves, and boots. The three of them headed out the back door, a burst of freezing winter air making them all shiver through their sweaters in spite of the heater running full tilt.

“Okay, little red, we doing this or what?” Mickey said, and Debbie got up from the table to follow him up the steps. Once upstairs, they worked together to pull down the attic stairs, and they climbed up one at a time, Debbie turning on the light as she got to the top first.

“Wrapping paper is…right here!” she said, shoving a box towards him. He picked out a roll of green paper with a pattern of gold stars. Ian did love green, Mickey knew, so it’d be a good choice. He’d be a pretty piss-poor husband if he didn’t know Ian’s favorite color, and it wasn’t something dumb like the Santas or elves or shit he saw in the box next to the one he’d picked out. Debbie, for her part, was digging through another box until she pulled out a red sweater that looked a little big for the six-month-old Fred, but was indeed covered in fucked-up looking reindeer. “Ha! I knew we still had it,” she crowed triumphantly. “Fiona never threw away any baby clothes. I’m just glad we still had this one.”

“...those really are some fucked up deer,” Mickey said, furrowing his brow a little. “You really think Tamietti is gonna let Lip put that on her kid?”

“C’mon, Mickey, it’s Christmas,” she said with a grin. “And it’ll be hilarious to see the look on Tami’s face when Lip tells her that they’ve gotta do it. You know he will.” And yeah, Mickey knew Lip well enough by this point to agree with her on that.

“I’m gonna go get this thing wrapped before your kid gets tired and Ian’s back inside,” he said. “You done up here?”

She shook her head. “You go ahead. I’m still trying to find the Christmas dresses for Franny.”

Mickey headed back down the stairs with the wrapping paper tucked under his arm, and headed back to his and Ian’s room. As he dropped it on the floor and found the key to the gun safe, he felt a pang in his heart at the thought of Ian’s face lighting up when he saw the gift Mickey had gotten for him. It wasn’t anything special, but Debbie had assured him that Ian would love it when they’d gone looking last week and found it sitting in a back corner of the store. As he opened the gun safe, Mickey pulled out the wooden trinket, not too big but still enough that the words on it could be read.

It was shaped like a wreath—not some dumbass Christmas thing, but with the natural wood colors still showing through unpainted—and had the names and birthdays of each Gallagher sibling. He’d debated about whether to include Frank and Monica on it, but figured in the end that Ian would appreciate the inclusion of his mother, even if she was on the same level as their father for the other siblings. It was Ian’s gift, after all, so fuck what they thought. Monica was the only one with a date of death added, but her and Frank’s wedding dates—all three of them—were added beneath their names, which sat side-by-side at the top of the wreath. Under Lip’s name was Fred, and Debbie had Franny’s beneath her own. And next to Ian’s name was Mickey, his full name and date of birth burned into the wood, along with the date of their wedding underneath.

Ian’s family was the most important thing to him—Mickey knew that. He also knew that, even though it came off as a joke, Ian calling him “Mr. Gallagher” every now and again was his way of letting Mickey know that he was now, officially, part of that family as well. They’d gotten called ghetto married since Ian was seventeen and Mickey was nineteen, when Mickey was technically married to Svetlana and raising a child with her and Ian.

But now it was official, their names forever linked together both on their marriage license and in the records of the city of Chicago. Anyone could look it up and see—see that Ian and Mickey had stood up and proclaimed their love for each other, had said the words and signed the papers that told the world that they belonged together forever. And sure, maybe Ian had gotten their license framed (although it was still sitting in the back of the closet), but this would show Ian that Mickey accepted his place in Ian’s family, too. Their names burned into the wood together, with room…room for others, maybe, one day. And even if those names never came along, it’d still be all right. They had each other, and they had their family. And Mickey knew, as he clumsily wrapped the wooden wreath in the green and gold paper, that things would be all right.

#leinth writes fic #callivich #shameless #gallavich #shameless fic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #debbie gallagher #sandy milkovich #ian x mickey

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itlivesproject · 1 year

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HELLO FRIENDS!! time for everyone’s favourite abel simp anon to kick off the finale weekend reactions :)

ps. this is quite long and there’s lots of swearing (i was very very excited, apologies😭)

OKAY HERE WE GO I AM SO EXCITED AND ALSO VERY NERVOUS OK WOO LETS GO

NO FUCKING WAY DID MATTHIAS KILL SILVIA - JAIL FOR THE WRITERS

guys we’re not even 2 minutes in slow down please

lincoln :(((( and abel too :( i think it’s time for matthias to unalive😀

“you could’ve easily done what matthias did” STOP

MATTHIAS ACKNOWLEDGING THAT ABEL IS IN LOVE WITH HER WAS NOT ON MY BINGO CARD

matthias leaving with a swish of his scarf is so on brand, that flamboyant twat

abel and lincoln friendship moment!!!! i love them so very much

…….noah? buddy? you can summon bats now? that’s pretty cool

all of that and we hasn’t even hit the intro sequence yet? damn

now who let connor out the cage🤨🤨

WE GOT THE WHOLE GANG HERE💪💪

the way you write matthias’s manipulation of jocelyn is so so good

AH ABEL PULLED US TO THE SIDE.. IF WHAT I THINK IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN ACTUALLY HAPPENS… KISSES FOR ALL OF U

IT DID HAPPEN

I JUST RAN A VICTORY LAP AROUND MY ROOM

I AM SILENTLY SCREAMING

I LOVE ABEL AND I LOVE ALL OF YOU

i’m honestly surprised i haven’t cried yet (i’m sure you all know by now how easily i cry)

“you and me, ro, forever. we just have to make it to tomorrow” someone write that on my gravestone because i just died

GERTRUDE IS BACK

WE’RE IN THE FUCKING VOID???????

pretend-annie? not this little weasel again

listen, as much as i am a pacifist, who am i to stop connor from killing adrian? (bye bye!)

ok the speech devon gives to romanced connor finally got me to tears (this will definitely not be the last time i cry this chapter LMAO)

WE BROKE THROUGH TO CONNOR YES FINALLY

NOW PLAYING AS ABEL FLINT ??????????!!!?!?!?!?!?

LOLA!!!! she’s beautiful :(

oh god this is heartbreaking

well amalia is in a graveyard so this won’t go well

ITS HER OWN GRAVE???? (kinda giving a christmas carol - this is charles dickens’ legacy)

oh god is jocelyn gonna see cody’s body?

SHE’S HAUNTED BY HER YOUNGER SELF? you just love to put this poor girl through the ringer

lincoln’s turn, if you show me silvia i swear-

god dammit

back to rowan, nice!

loha is so pretty

SHE MADE US?

i am so excited for tomorrow WOW

i am so proud of this whole project and i really do love you all💓

-abel simp anon

This reaction post is EVERYTHING I swear. My highlight reel: Matthias’s swish of his scarf, you running a victory lap, and “if you show me Silvia I swear- god dammit”

Glad you’re enjoying yourself, hope next chapter doesn’t disappoint teehee 🤭

#ask #anon #mod win #abel simp anon #ilw spoilers

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empressawesomecoolness · 4 months

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Doctor Who: The Ultimate Speedrun Marathon - Series 3 (2007)

The semester’s keeping me busy but trust me I’m still trying to keep this speedrun going and get caught up on everything before May, so I’m glad to say I finally finished Series 3 yaaaaayyy! It was a lot of fun, especially in how it carried over from Series 2 into 10’s adventures with a new companion after Rose. Aight let’s get into it…

General Thoughts

Right off the bat, I loved Martha as a companion. Similar to Sylvester McCoy, I was familiar with Freema Agyeman from her stellar work on Sense8, so I was already a fan of her’s as soon as she popped up on screen. She’s got her own brand of intelligence and spunk that bounces off of 10 really well. Don’t get me wrong, I love that Rose was carried over from Eccleston’s tenure into Tennant’s, but I believe that Martha meeting 10 as he is for the first time in this series was beneficial to them building a better chemistry. Also, it’s great and refreshing to see the Doctor get his first black female companion in the show’s history. Overall, probably one of my fav companions so far, if not my favorite.

Not much to add in regards to David Tennant’s performance as the 10th Doctor, but I’ll heap praise anyways. He’s just as charismatic as he was last season, never phoning it in for even a second. All of 10’s big emotional and personality quirks can really be chalked up to Tennant’s clear love of the material, which was also apparent in the previous two Doctor actors I’ve covered thus far.

Besides the Doctor and Martha, Series 3 also had a really big moment that I was pleasantly surprised to see be built up so well: the return of The Master. Last time I saw that character in this speedrun watch-through, he was ‘90s Eric Roberts doing his best impression of an effeminate man. I was wondering how he’d inevitably return after his fate in the TV movie, so I genuinely felt the rug pulled out from under me when he was revealed to have been hiding right under my nose as Professor Yana in Utopia. Derek Jacobi played both the unassuming professor and the menacing Master really well, so props to him. As for his almost immediate successor, John Simm as the 7th Master, I must admit…. not really my thing. I will admit he had some great moments that made me truly hate him (which in turn made me like him more cuz well y’know he’s the villain duhh), but the over the top flamboyance just gave me major BBC Sherlock Moriarty vibes. idk, again I still haven’t seen the classic series in its entirety yet, so maybe that’s just how the Master is, but I’m inclined to believe Stephen Moffat is the common denominator in this specific characterization. Despite my criticisms tho, Simm’s chemistry with Tennant was really fun. Much more dynamic than the complete diva Paul McGann had to act off of.

Favorite Episodes

• Blink

• The Shakespeare Code

• The Lazarus Experiment

• Human Nature

• The Family of Blood

• Daleks in Manhattan

• Evolution of the Daleks

• Utopia

Favorite Moments

• The entirety of Blink was a really clever well done treat for me. It felt a lot like an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and it just played with Doctor Who’s version of time travel so well and to such great effect. The Weeping Angels are now some of the Doctor’s most iconic foes, which is well deserved because they are super memorable and scary as fuck. Also it was funny to see baby Carey Mulligan here lol

• The moment Professor Yana reveals himself to be The Master was so crazy cool. Like just a few seconds earlier when he started acting weird and jaded I was thinking “holy shit is he the Master he’s gotta be the Master” and I was right 😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎

• I appreciate that Martha mentions how William Shakespeare doesn’t look exactly like he does in the famous portraits we have of him. It’s still kind of a topic of speculation as to what exactly he looked like in his youth, so I liked that she’d pick up on that.

• “Come on. We can all have a good flirt later!” “Is that a promise, Doctor?” “Oh, 57 academics just punched the air.” I love this show

• They should induct Blink into the National Film Registry for preservation just for the introduction of the phrase “wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff” alone

• Captain Jack Harkness (great to see him back btw) is THE FACE OF BOE????????????????? not sure how to feel about that. points for creativity tho

• tryna just chill and watch The Lazarus Experiment then BOOM!!!!! MARK GATIS JUMPSCARE AHHHHHHHHH

• The sound of a militaristic drumbeat constantly playing in the Master’s head is a great motif. One of the things I did like about Simm’s portrayal was how well he got across the maddening effect of the drumbeat’s sound in his head.

• The series finale was soooo crazy. I loved how the consequences of the Master’s plan were shown to have been so hard to crack that it took a whole year for them to even get close to him. It really built up the Master as a new kind of villain for this revamped version of the show. Also, fucking good on Martha for busting her ass to travel the globe and gather the support of millions. She’s such a badass

• “Good old J.K.!” *thousand yard stare*

Alright, that about wraps it up for Series 3! I had a great time with this series, even if it took me a bit to get through. Time to crack on, though. Gotta keep this speedrun train going. Onto Series 4, which (for the most part) marks David Tennant’s final tenure as the 10th Doctor.

#doctor who #doctor who: the ultimate speedrun marathon #the tenth doctor #david tennant #martha jones #freema agyeman

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thelonesomequeen · 1 year

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The man has a net worth of $110 million. He doesn’t need to play PR games for a check. And this type of thing isn’t going finance a movie either when a script doesn’t even exist yet 🦎/// Yes but he is less and less relevant in Hollywood. His roles are meh he doesn't have Cap to cover for that anymore. He have to stay relevant in the business that is changing to streaming instead of theatrical release. This business always was trashy and now Chris is playing this game hard too. He just get catch cause apparently he can even fake a romans for pics. I don't believe they together. Maybe was are friends but that's doesn't matter. Likes matters lol. Not only for him but others too. That's how agency's gets those less known actors on top lol. It gain traffic and fallows for them. People gets interested in them and that's the pandemic effect. When we all stacked at home that was the only way for them and also people started to pay attention to likes and fallows more (maybe out of boredom). They signed contracts with them so it's in their interest to get them jobs, recognition and higher status in Hollywood. Chris is doing dirty things, stupid Hollywood games. It's just time to accept it and stop baby him. Just watch him burn himself maybe he learn something.

ALL celebrities play PR games to some extent to stay relevant with the public and sometimes studios. But I still don’t think his career is WHY he would be involved with Alba for PR if that’s what’s going on. I just don’t. I’m sorry. 1. It had the potential to backfire BIG TIME by making him another Hollywood cliche. And to a degree, that DID happen. 2. They aren’t in the media together enough for me to be solely convinced this is ONLY PR. The general public isn’t sorting through likes and follows the way fans do to try and connect the two of them together. That’s stan behavior, not public behavior. And they haven’t done a whole lot to gain PUBLIC attention. Gaining fan attention isn’t enough for relevance when we’re a much smaller group of people than a lot of us here on tumblr or LSA would like to believe we are. 3. If he was desperate for public attention, there’s so many better ways PR could have been done. They could have ran with the Sexiest Man Alive title so much further than they did, they could spin ASP to look so much better than it does, the public loves him with Dodger and they could have pushed for more Jinx ads and articles considering he’s a brand ambassador. PR doesn’t have to just be relationship related, and for him, highlighting other parts of his life has always seemed to gain him more favorable public attention. But that’s just my opinion and you’re free to disagree.

Here’s the other piece of the puzzle and I’m just going to say it. If he wants to remain relevant in Hollywood, he just needs to be picking better projects and concentrate on doing better with acting. That’s all there is to it. He’s a mediocre white guy in Hollywood. There’s dozens of those everywhere. He’s very easily replaceable. His acting isn’t strong enough to set him apart from his peers. He’s at an age where the younger, muscly men in Hollywood are going to start taking those “action” type roles (and if they’re new to the industry, they can be paid less) but he’s not growing at the performance rate of his peers or actors that are slightly older than him for more serious roles. If we look outside of Marvel, he hasn’t had very many box offices successes. Knives Out did GREAT, but he was part of an ensemble cast. A cast full of respected actors or those with enough public draw. He didn’t carry that movie on his own. Lightyear didn’t do well with the box office. It was ok, but it wasn’t great. Red One and Ghosted are both streamers that appear questionable in quality. I’m not saying they’ll be bad, but I highly doubt they’ll be scoring Oscar nominations. Pain Hustlers (again, another streamer) I think could go either way depending on how they play out the story line. Studios aren’t going to just look at a celebrity’s PR or who they’re dating. They’re also going to look at what it costs to hire that actor, if their acting chops are up to par on what they need in the movie, and if they can sell tickets based on previous box office numbers. 🦎

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nekomacbeth · 1 year

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Book emoji

ok so. original plot that i have been pingponging in my head within the last few days under the cut bc it is kinda long

(context for it: i was initially planning on this being a dungeoncrawl in like dnd or something but i haven’t developed the idea much yet AND i have another iteration of the tower thing i have done more work on feat. a late 1200s trouveresse)

Once upon a time there was a tower within a dream, all covered in vines and red roses. A couple of adventurers enter it, deciding to stake their lives either for fortune or to determine what is up with it. Unfortunately for them, it is filled to the brim with hostile creatures (think manuscript drolleries and grotesques), all of which have one thing in common: their hearts are pierced through with a rose vine. Through items like scraps of songs, and various fixtures like gardens and fountains, the adventurers get the impression that this place and its inhabitants used to be formerly peaceful, but has been morphed so much that it has now become unrecognizable from what it once was. Each floor, in addition, seemed to be themed around different ways to torture a heart- stabbing, burning, branding, you get the gist. The enemies on each floor would have corresponded to each of the various methods as well. See also, this woodcut from Master Casper of Regensburg (which is where i intended to derive each floor’s theme from):

(anyway, if you know who this woodcut is depicting, you already get instant spoilers as to who’s the boss of this whole shebang. but if you don’t, read on!)

During their journey, the adventurers felt as if something- or someone- wanted them gone from this place, as if to say ‘this is not your affair, you should not be interfering.’ From scattered notes to ominous messages written in what looked like blood (or was it just crushed petals, or were the adventurers’ eyes deceiving them?), they knew one thing for sure- whoever turned this place wants to be left alone.

After their arduous journey through the various levels of the tower, the adventurers finally arrive at the top floor. The top floor consists of only one solitary room- but it is covered in thorny rose vines from ceiling to floor. In the centre of the room stands a bed, upon which lies a minnesanger. Unlike the other inhabitants of this tower, his heart has not been pierced through- but he is bound to the bed by the multitude of thorny vines that permeate the room. He can speak, however, and weakly tells the adventurers to be wary of a certain ‘Frau Minne’.

At this point I have to admit I have no concrete idea how the main boss of the tower manifests herself to the adventurers yet, but when she appears, she derides the minnesanger and then turns to face the adventurers. If asked if she is ‘Frau Minne’, she would respond: “Frau Minne? Ha! In his dreams. I, as far as I know, am just an ordinary woman- not a goddess of love.”

The situation is explained thusly to the adventurers- the minnesanger had a lady he idolized in the name of courtly love, and that was her. In his song and in his words, he set her upon a pedestal and even figured her as Frau Minne in one of his works. Even as a reflection of her in his mind, she hated every second of it- why wasn’t she allowed to just be let alone? But day after day, night after night, she had to appear in his dreams and silently play the part of the harsh beloved, the goddess of love, and whatever else he wanted her to be. However, in the world of dreams, she found herself gaining more and more control over his mind, and ultimately decided to use her newfound power to her own benefit- to turn the once idyllic dream-tower into agony for the minnesanger. And now, she keeps his mind and heart hostage within the dream-tower as revenge for how he once treated her.

“If you want to stop this, then you should be taking it up with him, not me. Tell him to let me go and live in peace, and I’ll let go of him.”

of course, the ending would ideally be up to the players to negotiate (and if they just let her do what she wants all the more power to them honestly) and so i don’t have a concrete ending for it yet. but that’s essentially what happens when i go too deep into looking up frau minne imagery and getting lowkey obsessed with her

#nekom’s rambles #long post?#original plot

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pxison · 1 year

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SEXY ABC

@medicus-mortem asked: A, E, I, and Q. [for Reiju x Law please!]

A ─ After care. Do they take care of each other after sex ? How ?

- Yes they do not skimp on the important stuff. Can’t just up and leave looking and feeling like a mess? At the very least there will be wet rags used if they are exhausted and if possible, a shower would be in order and a possible second round. Law probably insists on doing the cleaning though.

E ─ Experimenting. Are they willing to experiment new things ? Is there something they’d like to try with their partner, but haven’t had the chance yet ? Any experiments gone wrong ?

- I’m sure they can negotiate some new things into the bedroom such as Reiju finding out she is not so opposed to a little blade and blood play. One such experiment they could try at his behest would be her poison, see if he’d want to endure her special brand of aphrodisiac when they have enough time to enjoy its effects to the fullest. She’d even let him try something new too. (like his devil fruit perhaps?)

I ─ Infidelity. Has any of them ever cheated on their partner ? Whom have they cheated with ? If not, is it something they could do ? If yes, have they told them or has the other found out ? Could they forgive and forget ?

- If they are in a more serious relationship I think they’d both be very loyal to each other in not seeing anyone else. And I doubt either of them would consider doing so especially with all the bonding experiences they can go through. It’d be quite disrespectful to whatever they build up together and Reiju at least would be liable to lash out with deadly force if done to her.

Q ─ Questions. Is there anything they’d like to ask their partner, but never had the courage to ? Any questions they’d rather avoid ? Do they discuss everything as a couple, or are there any taboo themes ?

- Not really, I do not see either of them being particularly shy to discuss something. Reiju maybe if it’s on certain sensitive topics (Like Germa and her family). All most likely non-sexual discussions.

#medicus-mortem #🥀For Me?🥀Asks #🥀Perchance to Feel🥀Headcanons #xxx//nsfw #Suggestive cw #🥀 Toxic Hearts 🥀Law x Reiju

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url-is-under-construction · 3 years

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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭 ~ 𝐇.𝐋 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Based off the prompt: “𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭. 𝐖𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬.”

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Swearing

𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: Family always came first to you. That’s why you moved to Tokyo with your baby brother despite being miserable every single day, until you met him.

If NYC was the city that never slept then Tokyo was it’s younger sibling who was constantly trying to outdo the elder child. You ignored your younger brother who sat beside you in the taxi, leaning your head against the window and admiring the bright neon lights that stood out against the black of the sky.

No stars were visible, and the noise of the city was audible from inside the taxi, grinding against your ears. You hated it.

“Y/n.” You yanked my head from the cool glass of the window, leaving it foggy in your absence as Sean gently called your name. “We’re here.”

It was then you noticed the taxi had come to a stop, in front of a small looking building.

“This is it?” You asked, only getting a nod and sigh in response as the two of you exited the small vehicle, him sighing loudly as he picked up the bags.

You approached the door and knocked, waiting impatiently as the city air bit and nipped at your rosy red cheeks and nose.

It opened, revealing the man you recognized to be your father. You took a step back, turning the volume of the music in your ears up and letting Sean do the talking. You observed as their mouths moved, and the door closed on the two of you, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion before relaxing as it opened again.

This time he was fully clothed and a woman quickly scurried out from behind him, not giving any of you a second glance.

You pulled the earbud out, looking between your brother and father.

“Who was that?” You asked, following the two of them into the cramped building.

“A friend.” Your father responded sharply, before going over the ground rules and showing you to your rather small rooms.

The sleep was terrible that night. Unable to get comfortable on the thin mattress, and longing to be back at home in America. After all, you weren’t the child who had screwed up.

【~~~】

It took about three days for the reality of the situation you were in to settle in.

You were living in Tokyo. And you wouldn’t be returning home any time soon.

It was quite a rude shock when it finally hit you, and that’s when the tears every night started to pay visits.

You sure as hell weren’t the one who had fucked up, destroying not one but two cars, illegally racing and crashing through the frame of a house waiting to be built. No, that was Sean. But as usual you also had to pay for his mistakes and so off to Tokyo you went with him, leaving behind your friends, your family and your car.

It wasn’t like your mother was expecting you to live here forever with Sean. After all you were almost nineteen and very much so capable of making your own decisions.

She had wanted you to go with him for the first month though, not wanting him to be completely alone with no one but your father there for him, and by painting it out to be some exotic holiday she had convinced you to tag along.

It was a mistake.

Sean had started coming home later and later every night, adjusting well to life in the city. You on the other hand, had absolutely no friends, and despised your days with every fiber of your being. You had begun marking days off your calendar, counting down eagerly for the month to be over and for you to return home.

“I hate it here.” You shoveled food into your mouth, standing with your back against the counter of the kitchen as Sean absentmindedly filled a glass of water. “Why did I choose to come with you?”

“How would I know?.” He mumbled under his breath, pulling his phone out of his pocket as it buzzed.

“You know if you hadn’t been so-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He cut you off, rolling his eyes. “I get enough if that from Mom and Dad. Don’t need it from you too.”

His accent was far stronger than yours, and you mocked him, feeling defeated when he just rolled his eyes and turned back to his phone.

He read whatever was on the screen with a small smile on his face and nosily you leaned over, wanting to get a look.

“Fuck off.” He shoved your shoulder, still smiling.

“What’s got you looking all happy?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked at you, a mischievous smile on his lips as you waited.

“How do you feel about going out tonight?”

【~~~】

Bodies crammed together in the parking garage, all surrounding the hundreds of cars parked in the lot. The immaculate paint jobs shined in the harsh neon lights, and most of them had their hoods up and their incredible engines on display, leaving your jaw on the ground every time.

You stuck close to Sean and Twinkie, feeling safer with your younger brother and his best friend. You felt intimidated by the gorgeous women who surrounded you, not that you were there to impress anyone. You were there for the cars.

The shitty 1990 Accord you had back in the states was nothing compared to the beasts that were parked in here.

You could feel vibrations in the ground, from the music and cars and it brought a small smile to your face as you walked through the swarm of people.

Sean’s eyes were scanning the crowd intently, clearly searching for someone.

He finally located who he was after and pulled you and Twinkie in the direction, his smile growing.

“There are some people I want you to meet.”

You were introduced to some faces you knew you wouldn’t remember, a gorgeous girl named Neela being one of the few you did.

You didn’t miss the way they looked at each other, or the way her boyfriend would possessively interrupt when you were talking to her, much to her dismay.

“And finally,” Sean said as you approached a man leaning back against his car, a small smirk on his face. “The one and only, Han.”

You flicked your eyes up to meet his, ignoring the way your breath slightly hitched in your throat.

He stuck his hand out to grasp yours, and you gripped it back with the same smirk he was wearing.

“Y/n.” You introduced yourself, not missing the way his eyes slowly traveled up and down your body. “I’m sorry about what my brother did to your car.”

His eyes returned to you, a smile on his face.

“It’s fine. Plenty of others sitting in that garage.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his smile turning into a shy grin.

“Better keep Sean away from them then.” You teased, turning to your brother only to realize he had left.

You noticed him standing by Neela again, walking around her car while her boyfriend, Takashi, watched intently from afar.

“He’s in love. Has been since he saw her.” Han rolled his eyes, popping a chip into his mouth.

“Hard to see why he wouldn’t be.” You said. “She’s beautiful. Kind. Into cars.”

“And what about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you kind? Into cars?” He asked, following your eyes to Sean and Neela.

“You forgot beautiful.” You said with a small laugh as you moved to stand next to him, leaning against the Mazda RX-7 behind you. You were praying to god it was his car, otherwise the lucky owner would probably get very, very pissed.

“Nah.” He turned his head and looked down at you. “Don’t need to ask you that to figure it out.”

A blush crept into your cheeks and you couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on your face.

“Well, usually when someone is kind they don’t run around telling others about it.” Your eyes met his again. “And I love cars.”

He grinned at you, and you turned your head to look back at Sean.

A part of you wanted to play hard to get, but the other part knew that even after only five seconds of talking to this man you were fucking done for and he knew that as well.

“And what about you?” You copied his earlier words, elaborating when you saw his confused face. “Are you kind? Into cars? Beautiful?”

“Beautiful?” He scoffed. “Sweetheart I’m a damn model.”

You let out a laugh, feeling yourself relax.

“I was kind enough to not beat your brother to death after he totaled my car.” Han joked. “And as for cars-” He gestured to the garage, full of stunning, high performance cars capable of stealing your heart in a matter of seconds. “-I probably wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like them.”

“Yeah I suppose that was obvious.” You let out a content sigh. This was the first time you had forgotten about your little countdown, and also the longest conversation you had had with someone who you weren’t related to.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, admiring the cars that surrounded you for a few minutes before he turned back to you again.

“What are you doing here Y/n?”

Your head turned to his, your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, you think Sean doesn’t gush about his amazing older sister every chance he gets?” Han rolled his eyes at you like you were stupid.

“No. I find that very hard to believe.” You let out a small laugh. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Sean told me that you were eighteen, turning nineteen in a few months time. No one is forcing you to be here, in Japan.” Han explained, his dark eyes staring into yours. “And yet here you are. Living in Tokyo, miserable, because your delinquent brother couldn’t stay out of trouble in the states. Why?”

Your mouth opened, then closed, then fell open again. You turned your head away from the piercing dark eyes and glanced at your brother.

“Because that guy who destroyed your car is my baby brother. He’s the closest family I’ve got.” You watched Sean as he spoke to Neela, hearts in his eyes. “Family stick together Han. I couldn’t let him just up and leave to a brand new country, with no one but our father there for him.”

Han watched the way you spoke, feeling a warmth across his chest.

“It’s my job to protect him and be there for him, and I don’t care if I’m miserable the whole time I’m doing it. I’m going to be there.”

His jaw almost dropped as your words hit him like bricks.

“You know,” He started. “You remind me of someone I used to go way back with.”

You scoffed light-heartedly.

“How old are you?”

He just grinned. “Too old for you.”

“Well luckily for you, my age is too young for me.” You said. Despite your tone being confident your body was completely betraying you, bracing itself for rejection.

Instead he just laughed and ran a hand through his hair.

Both of your heads snapped to the right as someone called his name, and you felt your heart fall when you realized that he was probably going to leave.

He sent a quick wave to the person who called out and pushed himself off the Mazda, gazing down at you.

“You know,” He started, a shy smile creeping onto his face. “If you ever get bored during the day you should come by the garage. I think I could make it worth your time.”

You let out a small laugh.

“We’ll see.”

【~~~】

“You made friends pretty fast.” Sean said teasingly as you entered the kitchen, your hair sticking up in all kinds of directions.

“Yeah and so did you apparently.” You sent a sarcastic smile back in his direction. “Pity she’s taken.”

The smile on his face dropped instantly and he went back to his breakfast, ignoring you.

After a few minutes of silence between the two of you he spoke up again.

“So are you gonna?”

You looked up from your phone and coffee, furrowing your brows.

“Am I gonna what?”

“Swing by Han’s garage?” He had a knowing smirk on his face. “He told me all about your little conversation.”

You just shrugged casually, not wanting to let him know how you really felt inside.

“Maybe, if I have the time.”

“All you have here is time.” He scoffed. “All you’ve done for the past few days is buy food, eat it, then sleep. You may as well.”

You let out a sigh and finished what was left of your drink.

“Yeah, and for your information Sean, it’s been great.”

“You know you wanna Y/n.” He teased, a grin on his face.

“How about this,” You started. “Let me know next time you head over there. Maybe I’ll tag along.”

“Sounds good to me.” Sean said. “Especially given that I’ll be there tonight.”

Your cool demeanor dropped and your eyes widened.

“Tonight?”

“That’s what I said.” He grinned. “I’ll be sure to let him know he can look forward to seeing you there with me.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” You whispered under your breath.

He just shrugged his shoulders.

“You’d be doing me a favor if it meant I’d never have to see your gross face again.”

“What are you? Five?” You asked.

“I’d say that’s about right.”

You just scoffed at him, heading back to your room.

Not that you’d ever admit it to Sean, but you were glad that he’d be heading over to the garage tonight.

You would definitely rather die than tell him that though.

【~~~】

You shut the car door behind you and stepped out into the cool evening air.

Sean had come by to pick you up after he had finished school, and you had been anxiously waiting all day.

Now you were finally here, and still very, very anxious.

“This doesn’t look like a garage to me.” You furrowed your brows, looking out at the water.

“That’s because it’s in there.” Sean pointed to the large brick building. “We’re gonna stay out the front, this is where Han’s been teaching me how to drift.”

“Oh.” You managed to get out, following your baby brother to a group of people who were all sitting down by stacks of tires.

All four faces were familiar, but you only remembered the names of two of them.

“Y/n.” Han greeted you, nodding his head with a smile as he casually held the bottle in his hand.

“Hi.” You smiled back at him, your nerves starting to melt away.

Sean gestured to the empty seat beside Han, and you took it.

The others tossed you friendly smiles which you returned, and Han looked up at Sean.

“Go get your sister a drink.” He said.

Sean did as he was asked, reaching into the cooler that had been brought along and handing you a bottle of something.

“Are you gonna have one?” You asked your brother as you opened it and took a small sip.

“Can’t drink and drive now, can I?” He smirked, digging his keys out of his pocket and heading back towards the Evo.

“Well that’s a first.” You scoffed, and you heard Han let out a small laugh beside you.

“I’m guessing the cowboy doesn’t wanna fuck up another one of Han’s cars.” Twinkie said, watching Sean as his climbed into the car and started it.

You looked over at Han.

“That’s your car?”

“Yep.” He nodded proudly, watching Sean as he started his usual route around the dock.

“How many more have you got hiding in that garage of yours?” You asked with a small laugh.

“You’ll have to come see for yourself.” He shrugged.

“Maybe.” You shrugged as well, missing the way Twinkie and the others looked back and forth at each other.

“You know,” Han started. “If you haven’t got any other plans tonight, I could take you out for a drive, grab some food. Maybe come back to the garage when everyone’s gone.” He said the last part quietly enough for only you to hear.

You looked over to Sean in the car, able to make out his face of concentration despite how far away you were from him. He wouldn’t miss you for one night.

“When do we leave?” You asked with a smile.

He grinned with a surprised laugh, and you could tell he had been expecting you to say no.

“Now, if that works for you.”

You looked back at Sean, wincing at the sound of the tires screaming against the road.

“Sounds good.”

【~~~】

The two of you had ended up getting cheap food from a side-of-the-road vendor, eating in silence in the car before making small talk about everything, from your life back in America to what kind of animals you thought you could take on in a fight.

You were laughing when you stumbled out of the RX-7 and into the cool night air, following Han into the garage which wasn’t that much warmer.

You didn’t know what you had expected when you walked into the garage, but it definitely wasn’t what you saw.

Han gestured for you to follow him up some stairs to an open second story, furnished with a small kitchen, table and chair, and living area.

“Wow.” You mumbled under your breath, realizing he must have some serious money to be able to afford all of this. Not to mention the cars in there, some of which cost more than your house, car and life savings combined.

“It’s my pride and joy.” He pointed towards the sofa, and you took a seat, sinking in to the plush material as he opened the fridge and called out to you. “You want a drink?”

“Yeah thanks.” You smiled, and he pulled out two of the same bottles you had been drinking from earlier.

He took a seat beside you, on the opposite edge of the relatively small sofa, and the two of you sat in silence for a moment, reflecting on your night, before you spoke up.

“Thank you.” You said quietly, and he looked at you in confusion. “For what you’re doing for Sean, I mean.”

“It’s not a problem.” He brushed it off. “He’s a good kid, the kinda person I want to be around.”

You let out a scoff.

“Well I wouldn’t go that far.”

He chuckled at you.

“Thank you.” He said, and this time it was your turn to be confused. “You might not realize it. but coming out here with Sean has made it so much easier for him. He probably won’t ever tell you, but he’s grateful as hell and crazy lucky to have you in his life.”

A small blush crept up onto your cheeks, and you almost didn’t notice as he crept closer towards you. Almost.

“Yeah well he’s also crazy lucky to have met you.” You said quietly, your eyes meeting his as the two of you drew closer and closer. “I am too.” You whispered.

“And why’s that?” He asked, his tone matching yours, and you swore the room got hotter by about twenty degrees.

“You’re kind,” You started, remembering back to last night when you met him. “Into cars.” You continued, and he nodded along, agreeing with you.

“You forgot beautiful.” He whispered, just inches from your face now, and you smiled cheekily.

“You’re a damn model sweetheart.”

He grinned, his eyes flicking down to your lips briefly and before you could realize what was happening his lips were on yours.

Your hands instinctively went to his hair, pulling him closer to you as you laid down flat on your back, feeling his hands roam up and down your body.

You felt butterflies erupt in your chest as your hands wandered from the back of his head, and so did your mind.

Sean’s face flashed in your mind and you inhaled sharply, pushing Han off of you and sitting up, breathing heavily.

“Shit.” You hissed, moving to the edge of the sofa and holding your head in your hands. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Han asked, also breathing heavily. His tone sounded confused, and guilt racked through your body. “I’m sorry.” His voice changed to apologetic. “I thought you wanted to.”

“I do.” You whined. “I want to, but I can’t. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh.

“Sean.” You turned to look him in the eyes, and his face dropped.

“Shit.” He said.

“Shit.” You agreed.

The two of you sat in silence, still trying to catch your breaths, and trying to think of a way to fix the now incredibly awkward situation.

“I think I should leave.” You said, pushing yourself up off the sofa.

“Y/n don’t go.” Han protested. “It’s the middle of the night and you’ve been drinking. Neither of us can drive and I’m not going to let you walk home or get into a taxi with some creep.”

You let out a sigh, not letting him see how the fact that he cared that much made you all warm and fuzzy inside, or how the fact that it made you all warm and fuzzy inside made you want to gag.

“What do I do then?” You asked.

“Take my bed.” He nodded towards a door that you were assuming led to his bedroom. “I’ll take the sofa.”

“No way.” You protested. “This is your home Han, you aren’t sleeping on that tiny ass sofa. I can, it’s no problem.”

His eyes looked like he wanted to argue, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Ok. I’ll go grab you some blankets.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, laying down on the sofa.

It was undeniably comfortable, and you let your eyes close before Han returned, vaguely feeling him place a thick blanket over the top of you before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, leaving you with butterflies.

Your mind started to slip out of consciousness, and you let it, forgetting about how you were sleeping in Han’s garage, and planning on being out of there before he woke up the next morning.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Just a fun little something that took me about a week to finish writing! Hope you like it and requests are most certainly open <3

If anyone would like to be on the tag list for part 2, please let me know!

#han lue #han seoul oh #han seoul-oh #x reader #han lue imagine #han lue x reader #han seoul oh imagine #han seoul oh x reader #han seoul-oh imagine #han seoul-oh x reader #fast and furious imagine #fast and furious x reader #the fast and the furious imagine

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jenomark · 3 years

Text

➔Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Smut ➔Warnings: Oral (F+M) + Penetration (F) + Cursing ➔Word count: 3,659

➔Summary: Two realtors who play together, stay together. Whenever you and Jaehyun work together, you make a little bit of a mess in the homes you're trying to sell for your clients. After all, no one ever said you couldn't have a little fun on the job.

“Your boyfriend is so charming.”

You were showing a married couple around a brand new house, built in a neighborhood they most likely could not afford. While the husband was checking out how the door handles jiggled on every door in the place, his wife leaned in close to your ear, her voice deeper than the fake customer service voice she had in the beginning of the tour.

You could hear the accusatory tone, her words felt through every layer of your reserve, “How did you get a man like that?”

If she could have circled around you, like a huntress ready to take her prey out, she would have taken the chance. You held your ground, so used to the way women acted around Jaehyun. But there was a certain amount of fun to be had when you were bored and waiting, your day's work blemished by couples who believed they were hot shit.

“Just between me and you,” you purred, leaning in closer to her and stroking her arm with your finger. “He’s not my boyfriend. We just like to fuck each other at work."

You never blamed any of the women for looking at Jaehyun like he was a prized hog in a show. He was handsome on the outside, his face so valentine sweet, his smile disarming even the most hardened of ladies. He wore a tailored suit nicely, too, which made the effect that much cavity-inducing. On the inside, though, he was a filthy, filthy man, and he would never go for someone like the wife, as much as she wanted him to.

No, Jaehyun wasn’t your boyfriend. Jaehyun wasn’t even your partner. He came to the house dressed up in the part of a wholesome realtor, his eyes following the wife across the room, forcing eye contact that would make her feel warm underneath her collared blouse. He did it because it was fun for him. He did it because he could.

It was a game. Jaehyun eye-fucked the wife to tease you. He liked when you wore jealousy like a proud bib. He waited for you to take possession of him, which you always did in the subtlest of ways. Watching the wife back away from you after claiming that you and Jaehyun fucked- a tale met with disbelief- was a way to piss all over your territory.

That's mine.

Of course, you could have pushed Jaehyun harder. In doing so, the husband of the pair was a viable conquest. He looked at you with his dumb look when you ran your hand up your stockinged thigh, his jaw slack as you hiked up your skirt inappropriately and unprofessionally high.

However, it wasn’t very fun for you. You could tell the husband was too in love with his wife to ever flirt with you. You gave up quickly, your annoyance waving like a red flag whenever the wife breathed in your direction.

“Are you almost done, sweetie?” you called out to Jaehyun.

“Yes, sweetheart.” Jaehyun said, sticking his head out of a doorway.

You shot a look at the wife, her full attention on Jaehyun as he walked towards you both. She might as well have started taking off her clothes where she stood. She was fanning herself with her hand and wiping sweat from between her cleavage, the telling signs of someone who really wanted to know Jaehyun's cock felt like.

“Your husband is insisting on checking every nook and cranny of this place.” Jaehyun said, a brilliant smile stretched across his face. “I keep telling him there is no need. You won't find a place like this in the city.”

“I’m sorry for his behavior.” the wife said. “He does this all of the time. Nothing is ever good enough for him.”

“I can’t blame him.” Jaehyun said, his eyes roaming down the legs of the wife. “We men love being thorough.”

You slapped a hand against Jaehyun’s chest and tugged on his tie, hoping it would tighten against his throat. “We should get going soon, don’t you think, Jaehyun?”

“Oh, I think we can spare a few minutes, baby.”

The wife was completely ignoring the fact that you were in the room. She took a step towards Jaehyun, batting her eyelashes and pushing out her sweaty breasts. Jaehyun ate up the attention, his eyes practically fucking her right in front of you.

“You are absolutely shameless.” you said, walking away.

You walked through the fully furnished and staged home, finding the husband in the downstairs bathroom (one of three in the house). He wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t really your type. Still, he gave you the attention that made it easy for you to ignore all of that. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

“Like what you see?” you asked, moving one leg out in front of you so that your skirt rode up. “With the house, I mean.”

“Yeah.” he said. “Might be out of our price range. I'll have to check.”

You walked further into the bathroom, your heels click-clacking on the tile. It took only a few seconds for Jaehyun to find you, like it was a mating call, appearing in the bathroom doorway looking relaxed and ready to fuck. You knew the wife was soon to follow, a look of disappointment on her face that Jaehyun didn’t stick around to flirt with her.

You often wondered what women were thinking when caught with alone time involving Jaehyun. Were they imagining him bending them over the kitchen sink and fucking them? Did they think they were special, that he would sneak away from his dull job for an illicit affair with them? You could be sure that they were mentally undressing him, that they were not at all in tune to the fact that Jaehyun, in the end, only had eyes for you.

“If my girl here hasn’t sold you on the house, we would be delighted to show you to others on another date and time.” Jaehyun suggested.

Jaehyun’s words were final. He wanted them to leave immediately, to take their shit and go. You could hear the sour puss in his voice, the slight quiver in sound. He threw his arm around the wife and brought her closer to him. He let a smile consume him, one that made you grit your teeth. The four of you walked out of the bathroom quarters together, back to the open plan living room to discuss things further.

“You smell wonderful.” Jaehyun murmured to the wife of the pair. He let her go. “Anyway, the price isn't negotiable, but we’ll see what we can do if it’s what you really want. You may have to extend your budget further. If not, there are always others, like I said.”

The wife and husband agreed that the house would never be in their budget before leaving. The husband checked out your tits, and the wife cast one last longing look at Jaehyun over her shoulder, her pink tongue sensually gliding along her lower lip. With a serene smile, Jaehyun shut the door behind them, shutting the world out from you and him.

“You could have charmed the panties off of her.” you said, crossing your arms against your chest.” Pretty sure she would have blown you in front of the fridge if you had stood in the kitchen any longer.”

“Is that why you walked away?” Jaehyun said. “Scared of the competition?”

“Please.” you said. “I just really wanted to get fingerbanged by the husband over the toilet.”

“I can make that a reality.” Jaehyun smirked.

You walked into the kitchen and sat on a stool, smiling to yourself when Jaehyun followed you like a dog. “It’s not fair what you do to them.”

Jaehyun held on to either side of the stool and kept his face inches from yours. “You’re just angry because I win every time.”

“The husband always loves his wife too much.”

“And the wife is always ready to get fucked raw.” Jaehyun said. "By yours truly, of course."

“Maybe I should just start fucking the wife.” you said, peeling Jaehyun’s fingers from the stool.

“I would very much like that.”

“I know you would.” you said, pushing him away.

Jaehyun was pushed back feet from you. He yanked at his tie until it was loosely hanging around his neck. He ran a hand through his sandy brown hair, the ends sticking straight up in some places. You watched him, knowing it was what he wanted. You could see his chest hair peeking out from between the now unbuttoned portion of his dress shirt. The heat began to cover your body like a warm blanket of sin, as you thought about tangling your tongue up in those hairs.

“I can feel you on my skin, even though you haven’t touched me yet.” he whispered.

Jaehyun rolled his neck around, cracking it in some places. When his eyes met yours, the shade of brown appeared somewhat darker. You could feel that look rolling all the way down your stomach until it settled in its depths, curling up in itself. Your nerves felt shot, your confidence gone.

“Doesn’t it just feel so good to give in to me?” Jaehyun asked, his voice a little rough. “Don’t you want to play with me in this big, bad house?”

He came to you, only stopping by the length of your knees. He tucked his fingers underneath your chin and brought your eyesight up to his. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. He let his palm run smoothly down your throat, giving it a little squeeze. Your body was unmoving underneath his touch. Sometimes, you would absolutely vibrate with pleasure when Jaehyun touched you. Other times, you would become still like a steel fortress in the wind, wanting him to work a little for your affection, to open up your doors to him like an open house.

The house was empty, but so full at the same time. Jaehyun got down on his knees in a moment of submission, his head down like he was praying. He hugged you, his arms resting on your thighs, his whole being in your lap. It lasted less than a minute until he was back on his feet, a rare sweetness in his eyes as the rest of his body became unfamiliar and rigid.

“Stand up.” he said, his voice cold, the sound of it rattling through the bones of the house. Though there was a faint grin on his lips and a playful eyebrow raised, Jaehyun wasn’t allowing himself to be played with anymore.

You were not quick enough. He took you by the sides of your shoulders and pulled you from the stool. Your knees buckled but Jaehyun caught you in time, the move making your nipples harden. He could see the reaction through your work shirt, your two little buds staring him in the face. All you wanted was for him to touch you, but he wouldn't.

It was fun playing the game with him, since you two were so alike. There were times when you dominated Jaehyun, making him eat you out and cum before the new couples would arrive at the house. If he failed, he would be punished and have to do something embarrassing for him. If he passed, you would both be in a great mood and would usually get a house sold. Then, like now, there were times when Jaehyun took control, which would usually be followed by a lack of sales disappointment. You could always feel those times coming, the excitement unable to be contained.

Jaehyun took your hand and whisked you off through parts of the house where he knew prying eyes wouldn’t find you. He ran up the stairs eagerly, tugging you along behind him, not bothering to see if you were tripping up.

“The master suite.” Jaehyun said, stopping in front of a door. “Wait here.”

He left you standing in front of the closed door for over five minutes. You kept checking the time on your phone, your eyes roaming up and down every detail of the white, wooden door. If he was trying to tantalize you, it was working. You were very impatient, trying your best not to bust through the door and hop right on his dick.

“Come in.” Jaehyun said.

You held onto the handle, the image of the husband jiggling that very handle less than an hour ago fresh on your mind.

“I won’t tell you twice.” Jaehyun said.

You opened the door and saw Jaehyun sitting on the edge of a model bed. He had stripped it of the crisp sheets and fluffy pillows that were adorning it. He was shirtless and his dress pants were unbuttoned, his brown leather belt hanging by his sides.You drank him in like that, the impatience waning away.

“Come closer.” he said.

“So bossy.” you smiled.

You walked closer. Since you knew that you affected him as much as he affected you, every step felt delicious. You stood in front of him, ready to rip your business skirt off if he just said the magic words.

“Good girl.” he said, standing up.

He was looming over you, the heat from his body making you hot. You wanted to press your hands to his sweaty chest and push him down onto the bed. You wanted to bite his shoulder so hard that it made him cry out. You wanted to sit on that strong jaw, rocking your body over him until he was suffocating.

“Look me in the eyes,” he said. “Don’t look at my body, like I’m a piece of meat.”

“A little bit of disobedience never hurt anyone.” you said, meeting his eyes.

It was difficult to keep your eyes trained on his when you could hear him unzipping his pants. Each click of the teeth made your clit throb, like his tongue was already gliding over it. You could hear his pants falling down to his ankles, and from the corner of your eye, could see him shift slightly to step out of them until he was naked. With your imagination, you thought of him stroking his cock, pumping his fist up and down his shaft.

“Are you with me?” Jaehyun breathed. “Be with me right now.”

You nodded as the sounds of him masturbating heightened. Jaehyun moaned and let his eyes disconnect from yours. Though he was looking down at his cock, you were looking at the top of his pretty head. There were thousands of hairs you could tug and pull to get him to comply, to have him give you his cock. You could feel the tip of him and his fist rubbing against you as he made it upwards, each stroke nearly punching you, because he was so close.

You looked down, the top of your head skimming his. He was going at it slowly, moving his body like he was fucking his own fist. It was so sexy that you could feel all the nerves in your body tingling. Though his pleasure didn't happen to you, you could feel every grain of it. You breathed heavily with him, your body going through the build up with Jaehyun.

Your eyes met him again. Yours were, no doubt, asking him why he was being so cruel. It took a minute for him to stop, for Jaehyun to set his mouth in a grim line, and to cock his head and look lost in thought.

“This isn’t about you.” he said. “This isn’t about your pleasure. On your knees and put my cock in your mouth. Don’t stop sucking until I say.”

As you got slowly to your knees, your lips slid down his stomach, your kisses rushed before he could decline them. You grabbed hold of his cock, the tip of him resting on your bottom lip before you looked up at him. He held your side of the neck before moving to the back of your head and forcing his cock down your throat until your eyes watered.

Fucking in a place that didn’t belong to you was thrilling. The owners could come back any second and catch you in the act. There could be cameras installed, or nosy neighbors coming to check up on the people who owned the lone car that sat in the driveway.

“Is it good?” Jaehyun asked, his voice velvety smooth. "How do I taste?"

You sucked his cock without stopping, testing him with both lips, tongue, and fingers. You brought him back so far into your throat that you choked and took him out with a string of saliva. You swallowed that, too, so grateful to have him in any of your holes.

Jaehyun pulled his cock out and teased himself back inside of your mouth slowly. You let your jaw hang open and laid your tongue flat while he fucked your face. You gripped his thighs and let your fingernails dig into him before he came on your tongue, grabbing a handful of your hair at release.

When he ordered you to stand up, he was still leaking. He wasn’t stopping for anyone, not even when you made a show of wiping his cum off of your chin with your finger and slipping it into your mouth.

"It tastes yummy." you said.

“Clothes off,” Jaehyun said, ignoring you. “Kneel on the bed.”

He wasn’t losing his erection. He treated his cock like it was delicate, holding it in his hands and stroking it gently. You watched him as you stripped, taking a little too long with the stockings. Jaehyun ended up ripping them from your legs and tossing them aside. Without saying another word, he grabbed your ankles and pulled you down to the edge of the bed, nearly making you faceplant on the mattress.

“Fuck.” you whispered, your body jerking in surprise as Jaehyun started eating you out from behind.

He wasn’t shy about it either. He was licking you, moving his head side to side and up and down, just to get every bit of you. His lips were so warm and you were so wet, that you had to sink your upper half onto the bed and place your forehead against your arm. Jaehyun squeezed your ass cheeks and pushed you forward, his tongue lapping up all of your wetness.

You didn’t want to break, to crumble. You wanted to be strong and not moan or give in completely. You didn’t want to let him know that he could bring you down with just a lick, but it was hard not to.

“Beg me.” Jaehyun said, coming up for air.

He smacked your ass and you turned around until you were on your back. It was rough and forceful, and it turned you on. Jaehyun kissed your ankle before moving his lips down your thigh.

“Beg me.” he repeated. “Fucking do it now.”

The hotness on your inner thigh as his mouth got higher was enough to make you call his name. “Please, Jaehyun.” you said. “Don’t stop.”

Jaehyun ate you out, slipping his fingers inside of you. He would occasionally stop and kiss his way up your body to leave hickeys on your neck, and catch glimpses of your face to see if you were enjoying it.

“Not about my pleasure, huh?” you asked, nearly laughing.

Jaehyun groaned. “Don’t ruin it.”

“Too late.” you said, moaning as he fingered you. “You smell like her.”

You kissed his neck and got the bite you wanted from his shoulder. You held him against you, making sure your scent was all over him. His mouth tasted like you, though. You kept kissing him and grabbing at his hands to make sure they didn’t stop fucking you. You were a tangle of bare limbs, holding him against you, and fighting for dominance.

Jaehyun lifted his fingers from your pussy and held himself up over you. He looked you in your eyes, his gaze falling to your lips before he kissed them. He moved his body and slipped his cock inside of you, knocking the air from your mouth.

Missionary position was not your favorite. It was too romantic, not as wild. You wanted him to break your back, to bend you into positions that made your legs wobble the next day. You wanted risk. You wanted it rough. But having Jaehyun’s weight on top of you in that way felt different. You let him move over you, holding your hips as he drilled himself inside of you.

It didn’t last long until you were wanting to flip him over, until you could be on top and ride him. Jaehyun smirked when he realized what you were doing and said, “I don’t think so.”

He leaned up until his sweaty body wasn’t clinging to yours anymore. He spread your thighs apart after pulling you closer to him. He let you get a good view of his cock disappearing inside of you.

“This pussy is mine.” he said, touching his fingers to your clit. “Say it’s mine.”

“It’s mine.” you said.

Jaehyun fucked you faster, his cock hitting your cervix a little rougher. You winced at the discomfort you quite liked, immediately wanting him to keep fucking you deeper.

“Say it.” he said, moaning with each thrust.

“Or what?” you challenged, breathlessly trying to hold yourself together.

Jaehyun gripped your wrists and brought them above your head. He got close to you again, his body smothering yours, and his cock fucking you in a way that was too good to stop.

“I’m yours.” you said. “It’s yours. All of it is yours.”

He smiled when he got what he wanted, the same charming smile that seemed to have most women on tenterhooks, wondering if they would give them something else of his. Jaehyun never would, though, because everything of his was also yours.

#jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun smut #nct #nct smut #nct jaehyun smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #jung jaehyun smut #nct fanfiction #jaehyun fanfic #nct fanfic #nct jaehyun

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deadlynavigation · 2 years

Text

Don Your Masks

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Cahir x Reader

Warnings: Discussions of war, swearing, implied smut, sickening romance

I do not own The Witcher. Pls don't come after me.

Do not plagiarize, copy or translate any of my works or their assets.

It’s evening, the purple and blue tones painting the wide room. The soft pastels try to combat the tense atmosphere, but there’s no use- when you and Fringilla butt heads, there’s no stopping it.

“Even with all the troops you're suggesting be deployed, there’s no way we’d be able to breach the borders.” You speak behind clenched teeth, eyes fluttering shut with the weight of her stupidity. What Fringilla is trying to plan will never work, but of course, you are the one to bear the frustration. Ah, the balance of life. So precious, yet so rare.

“I have confidence that we will be able to make it work. And if all else fails, we can rely on the White Flame to guide us.” Fringilla straightens her back, thinking intimidation will force the plan’s carry. However, it does the exact opposite- you wanting to defy her more as the reverence that enters her voice sickens you. She’s been this way since she joined Nilfgaard’s forces. Even you weren’t this bad when you joined, but the witch is still at it, treasuring your leader like he’s a fucking god.

“Oh yeah? Where was he when we lost so many at Cintra? When we stormed the gates of that city the other day, watching each other drop dead and having to step in their blood?” You lean your elbows on the planning table ever so nonchalantly. Flames lick at your pupils with building rage. “Where was he?”

She’s stunned, but she hides it well. If you weren’t scrutinizing her gaze, you would have missed the flash of fear and doubt. But she might as well have worn her feelings on her sleeve with that glance.

“We both know this won’t work and the Flame isn’t going to do a damn thing,” It’s treason to speak like this, but to hell with them all. “So here’s what we do. You leave the planning to me and Cahir, and we’ll leave you to do your magic shit, hm?” Fringilla bristles before rolling her eyes, and nods. She must have remembered your stance in this war (far above hers).

“Thanks ever so much for your cooperation.” With that, you swiftly turn and stride to the door, only to be blocked with a dark shadow.

“Commander,” you say, dropping your head in greeting as you sidestep Cahir. The corridor greets you with a blast of freezing air and a bloody, unwelcoming aura. As any room in this place does.

Your steps echo off the walls, filling the empty spaces left by the dead. Even now, their souls constantly haunt you, suffocating you, branding you with guilt and anguish. Anguish that, even now as you walk alone, needs to be buried in the depths of your heart. It’s still a weakness to feel.

So, for now, you surround yourself with war and verbal dueling with Fringilla to blot out the absences in these corridors. Which seem to have another pair of footsteps travelling down them, if the soft footfalls of a boot-clad person are any indication. Your eyes light up when you consider who they belong to.

Sure enough, you’re correct, and as soon as you turn down a secluded hallway, you’re greeted with a flash of black and hands behind your head. You’re cornered, but you could care less.

“Commander,” You whisper, breath hitching at his closeness.

“Captain,” Cahir responds coarsely. He moves his hands from the stone behind your head to your hips, where his hands adopt a rough grip.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I think you know.” He responds, and you do. Through the lust crowding your mind, you recall his dark gaze in the war room, pupils wide with repressed desire. Your control of the situation must have sparked something.

However, you haven’t forgotten the incident at the battle in Cintra. So, you shall play.

“Do I? I don’t seem to have any recollection of what I could have possibly done-” You’re cut off by a deep kiss, Cahir attacking your lips with fiery passion.

“Y/n,” He groans in annoyance.

“No, say it,” You tilt your head in a playful manner, causing your lover to sigh and shut his eyes. Head bowed, he mumbles something. To hell if you know.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. We’re going.”

“That’s cute. What did you say?” You know damn well what was uttered.

“I’m sorry. We’re going.” Cahir finally manages to speak in normal tones, if a bit disgruntled. However, you don’t argue with the leaving part. You’ve been in this situation before, and it always ends the same way- either yours or his chamber’s bathing room doused in raw passion and water.

And so, you allow the man to lead you to his room by a hand settled on your lower back, enjoying the raging fire contained to a miniscule touch of covered skin.

<>--<>--<>--<>

It’s got to be past midnight. You and Cahir are drenched in sweat,the black sheets tangled around your bodies. The animalistic hunger is gone, soft love left in the wake of it. With this peaceful atmosphere, far different from the one that clouded the room just minutes ago, comes a sort of soothing, a sense that nothing could go wrong. Not with Cahir snuggled next to you, and certainly not with him drawing random shapes every so often on your hip.

The serenity is only interrupted by your feather-light kisses and occasional spoken thoughts.

“When do you think our next mission will be?” You ask after receiving a soft kiss. Not exactly pillow talk, but it’s a topic that’s been plaguing you since your talk with Fringilla.

“I don’t know, but you certainly look like you’ve been through one.” Cahir whispers.

And though a blush spreads across your cheeks and your body heats (sparking a chuckle from Cahir), it’s true. Love bites litter your neck and chest, not to mention the inside of your thighs. Your messy hair is spread across the pillows, and your face is thoroughly flushed. It feels that way inwardly as well, the cramps and soreness kicking up from your long session of lovemaking.

“Piss off,” you mumble, nuzzling into his neck. At this, Cahir laughs outright, his grip on you loosening. You use this opportunity to the fullest, slipping out of the bed and yanking a shirt off the ground.

“Wait, my love-” He cuts himself off with a snort. You sigh and roll your eyes, guiding the shirt onto your body. It smells of leather and broodiness- this definitely isn’t your shirt. Your glance down only confirms your theory.

Not much time is spent dwelling on if you should trade it for your own attire. Cahir has calmed and paraded into the bathing chamber, slipping his arms around your waist from behind as you stare at the mirror.

“I meant no harm, dear,” He murmurs in your ear. His chin comes to rest on your shoulder. “Especially not since you look positively breathtaking in this clothing.”

It’s hard to resist your partner’s charm. But somehow, miraculously, you manage to keep a firm mental stance.

“Oh, come now y/n, you must know I meant nothing. It was in the spirit of playfulness.” He stares at you from his mount on your shoulder.

“All right then,” Cahir sighs dramatically when he gets nothing from you. “I suppose I shall leave you to your own thoughts.”

Damn him, you think. He is well aware of your love outweighing your stubbornness (though not by much). “Cahir, wait,” you say in a dejected tone.

“Yes, my love?” He turns with a shit-eating grin, looking like an animal ready to pounce.

“I am well aware of your joking manner when it came to the aforementioned topic.” Your eyes flutter shut in annoyance. Gathering all your strength and discarding your pride, you force the next words out of your mouth with a great struggle. “May we... go back to bed?”

“Hm?” There is no way he’s letting you get away with this. What kind of forgiving, supportive lover would do such a thing?

“May we return to bed?” You almost yell this time, fed up with his incessant teasing.

“Of course, dear.” Cahir sweeps a hand out to help you back. You, in petty fashion, ignore and sidestep it completely. Only after a silent scoff at the gesture.

Chin held high, you walk slowly back to the bed. The black sheets are still a hopeless mess. You don’t know what you were expecting.

The tangles of fabric don’t seem to daunt Cahir, however. In your time filled with looking disdainfully down at the uncomfortable ruffles, he has found his way to your back. His hands slide onto your hips in one smooth motion, prompting a muffled gasp from you at the sudden contact.

“Keep the shirt, dear,” Cahir behind you says, a devilish smirk crawling onto his lips. “I prefer it on you anyways.” And with that, you’re shoved onto the bed- greeted, when you settle, with the look of a starved man.

And you are oh-so-willing to relieve his hunger.

Written by DeadlyNavigation

#cahir x reader #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #the witcher netflix #the witcher #x reader #implied smut #argument #fanfiction #series #updates

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mrwinterr · 3 years

Text

Over & Over

Pairing: Pornstar!Bucky Barnes AU x Pornstar!Female Reader

Summary: You’re an up-and-coming adult film star secretly eager to work with the popular Bucky Barnes, and with just the right connections, your paths cross much sooner than later.

Warnings: Adult themes. Smut 18+ (unprotected sex, vaginal penetration and instructional fingering, oral [male & female receiving], size kink, spit & cum play, a smudge of male dominance), dirty talk and language.

Disclaimer: I don’t know how the porn industry works; this was just written for fun.

Title Inspiration: “Over & Over” by Smallpools

A/N: After doping up on strong painkillers wasn’t enough, I thought releasing endorphins would help ease my headache, so once again watching porn inspired another fic. Idk. I’m a mess. Enjoy!

Slipping on your oversized sunglasses, you walk along the rectangular outline of the hotel’s lavish pool, to one of the vacant lounge chairs next to the redheaded goddess, whose wings you were taken under and could gratefully call a close friend. You hadn’t known a single soul when you packed up and moved west to Los Angeles at 18, but you knew you were destined for more than what your humdrum life back at home could offer.

The porn industry wasn’t your first choice at a career in entertainment, but the starving profession wasn’t paying the bills fast enough. You weren’t going to survive in L.A. another year juggling to pay for tuition and stay enrolled in acting school from the income of working menial jobs and booking small gigs. However, one minor role as an extra in a one-night stand sex scene of a TV show, you catch the eye of the multitalented adult film actress Natasha Romanoff.

It was pure coincidence she was also casted, playing a bigger role, of the same episode, but she saw more in you in your less than 15 seconds of fame than most casting agents did before offering you a chance to shadow her. You knew she looked familiar and you were no stranger to watching porn, but when you’re as down on your luck as you were, you went all in and soon enough countless scenes now under your belt within a year, you’re porn’s best female newcomer.

“There’s this year’s Best New Starlet!” Natasha proclaims loudly for almost everyone around to hear.

Lucky for you, the shades conceal the roll of your eyes at her comment as you kick off your flip-flops and remove the thin cover up to reveal your skimpy bikini. You dare look over at her in time to catch her mocking reaction, jaw dropped from your attitude.

“After all I’ve done for you,” she says, placing a hand to her heart, feigning hurt.

The pair of you laugh at your nonsense and after she helps you with applying the appropriate amount of sun care protection, you recline in your seats and attempt to soak up some sun. It was a much-needed break with the long stressful week of the award show now behind everyone. Your hard work had paid off and after all you did learn from the best.

Your predecessor before you, Natasha was also a former Best New Starlet, and now is a household name in pornography. She didn’t welcome a lot of people into her inner circle, but she had plans to one day direct and knew she had to find the next big thing before anyone else to take her place.

“Hello, ladies,” comes from the voice of this year’s Director of the Year and other close friend Wanda Maximoff.

“Hey Wanda,” you greet her by sitting up to give her a proper hug.

You met her through her twin brother, Pietro, who happened to be your first co-star and was very welcoming and caring to you. The twins took care of you during your first few months starting out. Much like Natasha did for you, you help her administer the same amount of sunscreen on her body.

“Congrats on your achievement,” she says wholeheartedly, looking over her shoulder at you as you finish up on her back, and even under the heat of the sun, she could still see the blush creep up on your face.

“She’s a natural, isn’t she?” Natasha comments casually, to which Wanda nods enthusiastically, only speeding up the process of the rose tints on your cheeks to spread all over your face. They were your biggest fans and supporters; you were so happy you could make them proud.

“I owe it all to the queen herself,” you say, downplaying your achievement and turning the attention to your mentor in Natasha. She scoffs at that and teases you about just taking the damn compliment. You put in the work; it was all you.

“Seriously, you deserved it,” Wanda says honestly, and you finally accept the praise.

“So, what’s next for miss Director of the Year?” Natasha asks leaning on a propped elbow, body facing towards you and Wanda.

“Well, I managed to finally book Bucky Barnes in an upcoming project…” she starts out, but the moment you heard his name slip from her lips, the rest almost didn’t matter.

Bucky Barnes was somewhat of a legend. There wasn’t a model or director that didn’t want to work with him. The man was downright gifted in every aspect and his work speaks for itself. Before you broke onto the scene, you’d gotten off to his videos, and only dreamed of one day starring in a scene with him, but you were still new to this world.

As a promising star, you had a long way to go and tons of plots, positions and people to still experience, so landing a role with someone like Bucky Barnes wasn’t entirely written in your plans any time soon. Then again, your first girl-on-girl scene was with your mentor herself, so anything could happen, right?

“I just haven’t found my girl yet,” was the next thing you pick up Wanda say the moment your head comes back from the clouds, “...I have all this momentum now that I want this to blow everyone away, especially Stark.”

Tony Stark was her rival. It was a friendly competition amongst friends. You hadn’t gotten the chance to work for him yet. He was a playful character and had directed some of the best adult films out there, Wanda just happened to be the better of the two this year…

“Sorry, I’m retired,” Natasha reminds her and repositions herself on her back.

“Fuck you,” Wanda says playfully to which Natasha responds with a finger in the air before she clarifies, “I was hinting at this year’s Best New Starlet…” and slyly looking in your directly.

“Me?” You ask incredulously. Your head can’t even start processing that you’re finally getting the opportunity to work with Bucky.

Wanda rolls her eyes at your obliviousness, “no, last year’s Best New Starlet. Hell no! Of course, you!” You respond in the same manner as your mentor, who is more than amused at you also following her lead, and flip Wanda off. Wanda snatches your hand to bring it away from her face, “I’m serious!”

“I-I don’t know, Wan,” a part of you is a little scared that you’re not going to be able to keep up with someone as established and with the star power as Bucky, “...like you said, you have all this momentum behind you. I don’t want to fuck this scene up because I don’t have a lot of experience.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” Natasha pipes up on the other side of you. “This is the perfect role for you!” She sees the questionable look on your face and sighs before explaining. “You’re a fresh face and rising star! People are lining up to book you, Stark included.”

“Nat is right. You’re a hot commodity now! I need someone who is a little inexperienced to mix with someone that is,” Wanda further explains her premise, “let him take the lead, but at your pace. I need it to be raw and passionate. People love that shit!” They were right, he had all the experience, and you were a fresh loveable face. It was the perfect combination.

You remain quiet for several seconds before Natasha rats you out, “and don’t even try to act like you don’t want to work with Barnes. This is your fantasy come to life.” Way to throw you under the bus like that…

There’s no denying your goal to work with him. He’d been in this business much longer than you had, you didn’t think your paths would ever cross on a set, but the opportunity couldn’t have presented itself in a more perfect point in your career.

The room is very pristine. White walls with a king size bed, also adorned in white sheets, fluffy pillows scattered at the top, minimal furniture around to make it look realistic, and the lighting was just right. Wanda had received a hefty budget after her recognition that’s for sure.

“Alright, girly, let’s get you on the bed!” Wanda happily directs.

You nod silently, remove your footwear and plop down on the center of the large mattress. You decide to leave your legs sprawled on one side of your body, settling on a bashful position. It’s not hard for you because although you agreed to do this and have done several scenes, internally, you’re freaking the fuck out. Unbeknownst to you, it’s all part of your charm; the innocence you somehow still radiated was an all too endearing quality and actually sexy.

Even your attire was pretty modest, opting for a more casual look with black leggings and a tight long sleeve that accentuates your figure and shows off the right amount of cleavage. It was something that you could easily wear out in public, which again was a part of your brand in being as natural as possible, but come the right circumstances, when it was time to roll you could turn on the right switch.

“We’ll start off like a typical casting interview before we bring Bucky in and then we’ll go from there. Sounds good?” She runs down the plan with you, fixing a few strands of flyaway hairs on your head before back away from the bed. With a thumbs up and a smile from you, she starts recording.

“Welcome, Best New Starlet of the Year!” Wanda greets from behind the camera.

“Hi,” you politely reply with your signature sweet smile and a wave to the screen.

These scenes start off with a small interview recounting your tale into the porn industry leading up to your recent achievement and even delving a bit into your personal life before the topic changes to your co-star.

“So, how excited are you to work with Bucky today?”

No matter how hard you practiced at keeping a straight poker face, that was something you were unable to master from Natasha, and the blush couldn’t be contained.

Fidgeting at the hem of your top, you open and close your mouth, trying to find the right words. You’re overly flustered at the thought of Bucky and he wasn’t even in front of you yet. You don’t want to sound like a fool and ruin the atmosphere. Wanda mouths words of advice from where she sat in the director’s chair, “be honest.”

“Um, I’m...nervous,” you say truthfully.

“Nervous?” She questions, urging you to elaborate.

“Yeah, he’s Bucky Barnes! He’s hot and he’s got so much experience. I’m kind of scared I’ll be boring,” you finish explaining and hope to God that Natasha doesn’t kill you afterwards, or with that answer let Wanda down, but the smile on her face sends you a wave of assurance.

Maybe you could do this...

Earlier that day, Bucky had already recorded his little opening scene. Wanda had called him to report on set before you were scheduled to arrive.

On the contrary, Bucky was also a tab bit anxious to work with you. He’d seen some of your work and more so heard about your talent from his own best friend, Steve Rogers.

He didn’t deny it, he was very much attracted to you and he wanted a chance to work with you too. Bucky wasn’t a jealous person, which made working in the porn industry easy for him, but when he had to hear Steve recount his scenes with you, he couldn’t help but want to sock his own childhood friend. He didn’t of course, but the rage was evident and his other friend, Sam Wilson, took some sick pleasure in teasing him over it. In fact, the eccentric personality of the trio of friends, decided to tag along with Bucky to introduce himself to you and get under his skin a little more.

“What’s going on in that nasty head of yours?” Sam poked at Bucky as they made their way over to Wanda, who was by the camera setup going over a script with another stagehand. When Bucky doesn’t respond, it provokes Sam even more, “no way, you’re nervous!”

Bucky sighs fed up with dealing with the anxiety brewing ever since he found out he was going to star in this film with you. “Shut the fuck up, will you? Of course, I’m nervous,” he says, trying to remain calm.

“Dude, you’ve slept with some of the hottest people in the world and millions of people have seen you naked. Why is one girl any different?” Sam wonders.

“I don’t know, ok. She just seems so down-to-earth and normal?” Bucky attempts to explain. You were real. His work was just that, it was a work, and he was afraid that it would be different with you. He could say he was almost intimidated by you.

“Yeah, as if I don’t have to hear that enough from Rogers…” Sam chimed in. Steve had nothing but high praise for your performance. In fact, his testimony helped expose you a little further. He was an honorable performer and a respected one, so they took his word on you. “Maybe, I’ll be her next co-star,” and just like that Sam ruined a moment.

“God, I hate you,” was the last thing exchanged between the two friends as they finally reached Wanda. She warned Sam to behave and gave Bucky a quick rundown before instructing him to hop on the bed.

Bucky’s interview starts a little differently than yours. Having already been a more established performer than yourself, no one needed his background story. The only thing Wanda wanted out of him was his plans and opinion on you.

“Well, I don’t know too much about her, personally speaking...but everyone seems to love her,” Bucky’s answer was a bit bland for Wanda.

“She’s a great person to work with,” she comments and that’s a tactic most directors used to get talent to keep talking.

“That’s what Steve keeps saying,” he says with somewhat of an awkward light laugh. He could see Sam facepalming next to Wanda at that lame answer.

“Yeah, you don’t win best female newcomer for nothing,” Wanda points out. If anyone was the lucky one here, it was Bucky. He was climbing up in age and you were the next big thing. You were the real star of this film not Bucky. She was counting more on you to deliver than him.

“That’s right. She’s a very talented performer,” Bucky says, and this small comment opens up a can of worms for Wanda to build up on.

“Oh, so you’ve seen some of her work?” Bam! He was caught.

Bucky’s mouth starts twitching slightly and Wanda and Sam are smirking from their spots as they watch the gears in Bucky’s mind start turning faster trying to think of something. The only piece of advice Wanda gives is “be honest.”

He sighs, the jig was up. Smooth Bucky Barnes was caught red-handed, “yeah, I’ve watched some scenes. I’ve seen her in person a few times too…”

“Wait,” Wanda interrupts him abruptly. She knew you were attracted to Bucky, but never knew of any encounters between you two, “when did you meet her?”

“I haven’t,” Bucky starts, which causes a look of mass confusion on Wanda’s face before he follows up, “formally. I haven’t met her formally, but I’ve seen her at a few parties and at the award show...I was just nervous to walk up to her,” the words just kept flowing out of his mouth and he inwardly cringed at how awkward he might’ve sounded.

Sam was amused by his embarrassment, but Wanda was pleased with this result. Bucky was good at what he did and that included him trying to play it cool, which he did well on screen, sometimes.

“You know she was actually thrilled to find out she would be working with you,” Wanda said, stretching the truth. The truth was, you hadn’t verbally confessed that, at least not yet.

“Really?” Bucky asks all too hopeful, his mood noticeably perking up.

“Yup! Ever since she won Best New Starlet of the Year, people have been lining up to book her, but she chose this project. You were the deal breaker, Barnes,” she fabricated and hoped this all worked out for you two in the end.

“Wow, who would’ve thought this has-been still had it in him?” He jokes at himself. His humility would get the best of him in every situation.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself! You didn’t win Best Male Performer of the Year again for nothing!” Wanda says and then steers the interview to a close.

After wrapping up Bucky’s scene, he’s allowed to stay in another room with a monitor. At first, he thinks it’s to help him prep for the scene, but to his surprise it’s a live feed of your interview and he starts clinging onto your every word. Enthralled by your journey, work ethic and he gets flustered all over again hearing you talk about your equal eagerness to work with him.

“You know, if anyone is the lucky one in this situation, it’s Barnes,” Wanda reminds as your interview comes to an end.

“Right,” you sarcastically remark.

“Are you ready for us to bring Bucky in?” She asks.

“It’s now or never,” you reply.

You watch the doorknob twist and the door open to slowly reveal Bucky. Where do you even start with him? He just looked like the total package. His gaze immediately on yours. As he makes his way towards the bed you’re still sitting on, when his knee comes in contact to the edge, you maneuver your body in his direction, sit up on your knees to meet him halfway and welcome him in a hug.

“Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you,” he says when you pull apart. The both of you don’t break away completely. Your arms are still wrapped around his neck, his hands placed just above your waist, you can feel his fingers that slipped under the fabric rub your skin.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you respond, giving him a genuine smile and can’t help but stare at his pretty face. You had to remind yourself he’s just another guy, except he wasn’t. You didn’t know how he felt, but you wanted this, wanted him. You also don’t know if you’ll ever work him again after today, so he was going to get the real you.

A small, subtle clearing of someone’s throat shatters the staring contest between you and Bucky causing you both to sheepishly break away from the other, not realizing you’d both allowed dreaded dead airtime to pass by. You scoot over to make room for him next to you on the bed. After he pulls his footwear off, he sits cross legged in front of you, you have one leg tucked in and the other extended in front.

Bucky’s not entirely oblivious. He not only witnessed you backstage reveal you were actually nervous to work with him, he could feel it, so at an attempt to help ease both your nerves, he places a hand on your shin and absentmindedly run his hand up and down the fabric, fingers sometimes stopping to mess with the cuff of your leggings and at the skin of your ankle, while he listened to you speak.

He congratulated you on your achievement as you did with him, both a blushing mess before diving into different topics like traveling and other interests.

Wanda stood proudly behind the camera watching the scene unfold. Everything was so candid and real between you and Bucky, the chemistry was clearly evident, she didn’t foresee there would be much directing on her part today, which was going to make her job easy.

“Wanda said you were excited to work with me,” Bucky teases, wanting to see if what you said was just for the cameras or if it was really true, but also, he found out he liked to see you get all hot and bothered in more than one way.

Your jaw drops and you look directly into the camera, breaking the fourth wall, calling out to Wanda. You playfully chastise and curse at her for revealing your secret. She tells you it was going to come out anyways, and while that was true, you’d hoped it was later and much after you’ve slept with him, hoping it doesn’t ruin the shoot, but Bucky assures you that it’s actually a flattering to hear or in his words, “assuring” for someone like him.

“Are you kidding?” You say, lightly shoving him back, “you’re like a legend! Of course, I was excited! I’m surprised you agreed to work with a rookie like me!” Now that the cat was out of the bag, you might as well own up to your secret.

“Everyone wants to work with you,” he makes clear, leaning in closer. Fuck, he didn’t even need to initiate foreplay because with the way he was looking at you right now, you could come swear you’d come undone for him in an instant.

“Oh really?” You challenge, your body gravitating like a magnet towards his.

“Yup, Steve wouldn’t shut up about you and even Sam said he can’t wait to someday work with you,” he said, voice slowly dropping in decibels and his hands sliding up your thighs.

“Did he?” You ask, but you don’t really care about Sam as your eyes look dead into Bucky’s blue ones, swirling into a darker shade full of deep want and desire.

“Yeah, but let’s see if he still wants to try to outdo me after I’m done with you,” he whispers, finally closing the gap between your lips in a sweet kiss. It was about as sweet as it could last because after just one taste of your lips, he was a starved man, hungry for more. You tried your best to match his pace and the kiss turned sloppy very quick.

You moaned at the pressure of his lips pressed roughly against yours, and you do your best to keep up, but you’re already finding yourself short of breath. However, the more you try to pull back to regain some oxygen, the more he’s unwilling to part as he grasps your face in both hands to keep you still, so you lightly squeeze at his biceps as a warning in hope he gets the message.

Lucky for you, he does and lets up. He’s also noticeably breathless, his warm breath fanning against your kiss-swollen lips, his forehead resting against yours. Bucky’s hands are still on your face.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, and you let out a small chuckle at the sincerity. He was cute.

You take his hands in yours and bring them back down to begin undressing him starting by helping him slip his shirt over his head, the fashionable dog tags around his neck clank as it slaps against his toned chest, you let him keep them on though.

Bucky sits up on his knees as he watches you settle on your stomach, propped up by your elbows, hands getting ready to work on his lower half. He patiently watches as you unbuckle his belt, pop the button of his jeans off, and drag the zipper down.

With his pants hanging loose off his hips, you begin to plant soft kisses along his navel down the defined lines that lead to his cock. Each contact of your lips sends a ghostly tingle and the blood to rush even quicker down his lower region. The imprint of his endowed member doesn’t leave much to your imagination, you can already see the stain where the tip is through his tight boxer briefs. It gives you a little boost of confidence knowing you’d caused this and would get to take care of it.

You hook your fingers into the undergarment and tug them down his muscular thighs. His cock springs out, almost hitting you in the face causing you to jolt back a little and a smile to spread across Bucky’s.

Your clumsiness was also a part of your charm. It wasn’t on purpose, you were still learning after all, and that’s what made it so unique and fun to work with you. Your partners just felt a real, genuine connection, citing it felt less choreographed and of a porno with you.

A little embarrassed about that move, you’d watched what he can do with that cock, but nothing could’ve prepared you for it face-to-face. You don’t waste any time on getting your hands on him and wrap your fingers around his half-hard cock and start pumping him sensually.

He’s hot and soft in your hands before getting gradually heavy. The look in your eyes grows more predatory as you watch him grow and feel him getting harder with each pump causing more and more pre-cum to ooze out. You spread it all over the head of his cock with your thumb then daring to look up at him, hoping he was indeed enjoying your work, before you pucker your lips and kiss at the crown. Bucky curses when he sees your lips shining, coated in his pre-cum, with a string connecting you to his cock.

You gather the fluid up in your hand before spreading it all over his length, when it’s not enough you start not only pumping him faster, but also licking up and down, from the base to the tip, hoping to effectively slick him up. The way your tongue scrapes along over Bucky’s sensitive flesh stirs him up. Your other hand joins in to fondle with his neglected balls, massaging and pulling at them in the right moments, sometimes you travel a little south and take them in your mouth. It all but drives Bucky wild and it’s confirmed with each swear that leaves his mouth.

Bucky wants nothing more than to lodge himself deep in your throat, but he remembers he needs to go at your pace, and once you’re broken in a little more, you could follow his, so he’ll bide his time for now and watch you work.

When you’re ready to take him in, you regain his attention and he watches you slowly take in his inches down your mouth, stopping halfway before your wide-open mouth hollows out. Your full mouth immediately waters around him and it doesn’t take long before you’re a drooling mess all over his cock. You pull back torturously slow, looking back down watching his cock reappear and loving the way it disappears back in, and especially how it feels when it drags through your mouth, taking note of the veins and unique ridges.

“Don’t be like that, doll,” he says, wiping some of the hair away from your face, “come on and show me why they don’t stop talking about you,” he coaxes, now gathering some of your locks in his hand to completely give you both a clear view. He tries his best to not take the lead, but you don’t disappoint as your mouth works faster on him. The gagging and sucking, mixed with Bucky’s moans of pleasure soon become the soundtrack.

You’d gradually take him more and more in, close to deep throating him, and you’re just ready to let up, but he can’t help it and before your last round, he holds your head in place.

“Don’t quit now, baby,” he encourages you, placing his other hand on the back of your head, keeping you still and carefully starts to thrust his hips, urging you to take him all the way, “...that’s it, you can do it, you can take it,” he releases a big sigh feeling the tip of your nose bump his lower abdomen. The moisture builds up in the inner corner of your eyes and you do your best to mind your breathing and not choke.

“Fuck!” He can’t help but shout when he feels your throat contract around him. You just looked so divine, mouth full of his cock. He keeps you there for a few seconds, before releasing his hold, and you immediately pull back, drool dribbles down your chin, and you’re desperate for oxygen to return back into your system. He grabs your face by your chin forcing you to look up at him.

He uses his fingers to scoop up some of the mixed fluids of his arousal and your saliva at your chin before presenting it in front of you. You easily read his mind, look up at him with big, watery eyes, and take his coated digits in your abused mouth sucking the juices clean off him.

He growls and commends you, “...such a good girl.” When he slips his fingers out of your mouth, a small pop could faintly be heard, he gently yanks at your hair, craning your head back further, it’s almost painful but you don’t care, “do it again,” he demands.

You bite your lip and reposition yourself. Bucky settles in a more comfortable position on his back, completely rid of his pants and underwear, his legs spread open for you to lie between them. Before you get back to the job, you slip your tight top off, all-natural breasts spilling out and on display for him. His cock twitches at the sight and he lets his head fall back when he’s once more fully encased in the warm, wet cavern of your mouth.

When he finally starts begging you to let up, you pull back slowly pumping him and watch his every move, the rise of his chest as it heaves from the activity, the way he runs his hands over his face. He’s absolutely stunned by your performance so far.

“On your back,” he says, and you do as he commands, and forget who is supposed to really be in charge. He yanks your leggings and panties all the way down, chucking them behind him somewhere in the corner of the room.

“You’re so sexy,” he compliments, eyes taking in every inch of your naked body, hands getting their fill. His body dips, lips latching onto your breasts, kissing at the skin and sucking on each nipple before they make their way up the juncture of your neck and claim your lips again.

You feel his tongue run along your bottom lip, and they part to grant him full access. You barely notice how he takes a hold of one of your hands, he pulls his face away to bring the hand in his grasp up to your face, using your fingers to trace the outline of your lips. You see him inaudibly instruct you to open your mouth, you do as you’re told.

“That’s right get those fingers nice and wet,” he coaxes you to suck on your own digits until he deems you ready for the next move. When he finally does pull your fingers out from your mouth, he extends your arm, ghosting them just over your pussy.

“Play with that clit,” he tells you and you don’t need to be told twice. Your pussy was begging for any kind of attention. You let your wet fingers roll over the bundle of nerves, puffs of breath escape your body as you’re finally attending to your own needs.

Bucky sits back and watches you intently, fascinated by your every move. He instructs you to close your eyes and listen to his voice, instructing you to go slow at first, “does that feel good?” the only reply he gets is a fast nod, “yeah? Make yourself feel good...that’s it,” his words only encourage your fingers to soon work faster, “let me hear how good it feels,” he demands, and you moan and whine like the true pornstar you are, your circular motions speed up, the lewd noises egg him on and soon enough he wants a taste.

“Let me help you out,” and you feel the bed shift a bit, “spread those wet lips for me,” he requests. You use both hands to invite him into your wet, glistening hole. You pick your head up to see his face buried between your thighs, you watch just long enough until each broad lick up and down your pussy sends you close to the edge.

He no longer needs the support of your hands, and they find purchase in his dark, fluffy hair as he starts sucking on your clit and tonguing your folds. At first, you’re doing a good job keeping your legs apart to accommodate him, but it gets harder and harder for them to not clamp around his head, with every nudge the tip of his nose makes at your clit and it doesn’t help your case when he inserts a finger inside you. With a good curl, his finger scratches dangerously close to your sweet spot, causing your legs to start quivering.

The sudden hitch in your breathing catches his attention, and Bucky tests the waters more by digging in deeper and curling in further. He notices the increasing agitation and knows he’s found the trigger.

“Bucky,” you whine, hoping he doesn’t push you over just yet. You want to last longer, and so you reluctantly attempt to scoot back further away, but the sudden strong grip he has around your leg locks you in place. You pick your head back up and find Bucky’s eyes trained on you. You see the stoic look in his eyes laced with determination. Oh no, he wanted you to come now. You feel a hum from his full mouth, only pushing you further.

“Don’t hold back,” he says against your pussy, “let go,” and the gruff in his voice, vibrating against you, his thick digits still curled deep inside you, you can’t hold back the floodgates from bursting any longer.

He laps up your arousal as you desperately try to regain composure. He really pulled one out of you, proving he was as every bit good as he put out and you’re not even close to the end of this scene.

“Come here,” he says, getting back on his knees and pulling you up by your arms so you’re in an up-right sitting position once again, but with Bucky still towering over you, “open up.”

You comply and open your mouth wide, tongue out, not understanding his motive, and you’re met with full surprise when he spits in your mouth, a firm grip on your face, he holds you still.

“Don’t swallow,” he gravely warns. You feel and probably look stupid not knowing what he wants you to do with your mouth open wide and full of his spit mingling with your arousal, just trying to keep it all contained. Bucky was testing your patience and obedience and you passed every test so far. You were just the right amount of submissive, absolutely perfect.

You can feel his hard cock pressing up against your sensitive pussy, it slides up between your folds and the base rests on top of your mound. “Drool it out...on my cock,” he instructs. Oh. He guides your gaze down between your bodies, you purse your lips, and both watch as the liquid cascades down onto his erect member. He uses it to lube himself up before he pushes you down to lie flat on your back.

Bucky slowly but easily slips inside your wet channel but notices your slight struggle. He was big, and he gets it. The way your eyes are tightly shut, hands pulling at the sheets, you struggle to breath and your walls cruelly grip him tight. Normally, he’d just pound away until his partner got used to him, but he didn’t want to do that with you. He wanted you to enjoy feeling him.

He tries to help you relax by rubbing your thighs a little with soothing motions, when they fall limp on either side, he leans down, you feel the cool metal of his dog tags against your heated skin, his weight sort of comforting on yours, and arms entrapping your head. He lovingly calls out your name, and your eyes flutter open, your attention refocusing on him.

“We’ll go at your pace, alright?” he assures you. You curse yourself for allowing your heart to swell at his concern, but you nod giving him permission to move slowly. Your whimpers soon transition into pleasurable moans, the more your body begins to adjust to his.

“Damn, you’re so tight. You’ve never been stretched out like this by anyone before have you?” he dares ask, once he sees it’s a safe playing field once more, his hips moving slow, his cock sliding in and out of you. You attempt at a laugh between your ragged breathing and the intense sensation coursing through you.

“No,” you respond and kiss at his chin, the light stubble pricking your soft lips, “you’re so big.” You feel his cock twitch inside and you want to curse yourself again at the comment that unintentionally riles him up because he was nestled close to your spot again. Fuck, he could reach just the right depth in you.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you don’t want to go slow anymore. Fuck Wanda and this movie, you wanted all of Bucky now, “please fuck me,” you resort to begging. He inwardly growls and his hips start snapping forward, thrusts growing hard and uncalculated. You just lie there and allow him to use your pussy for his pleasure.

Bucky’s movements falter a bit in this position, so he steers both your bodies on their sides, still facing each other, he slings your leg high up over his hips, and resumes his task. His cock glides right back in your pussy and the new angle causes you to yelp and walls to clench around him.

“You feel so good,” his voice riddled with so much lust as he brings your body closer to his with a hand behind, full of your plushest asset. Your head rests on the bicep of his other arm that was underneath it.

Bucky’s expressive eyes ask you if you're close, and the more your walls continue to grip him, he starts begging for you to come with him. “I’m gonna cum,” he warns, giving up and letting you take the rest of the lead.

“Yeah?” you huff out, your fingers digging into the side of his hips, “you want to cum inside me?” You know he does; you can feel and see it written all over him, but you want to just poke at him like he had with you, “I want you to...I want all your cum inside me, Bucky,” and you wanted him to cum hard, deep inside, “fill my tight pussy up, please,” you plead.

With one more jab of his hips, your back arches and head is thrown back, you can’t help but let out a scream as your orgasm rips right through you like it’s never before. Bucky’s body on the other hand caves into yours, feeling almost paralyzed as your tight walls hold him in place and all he can do is bury his face into the sweaty skin of your neck.

His mouth hangs open, a plethora of profanities coming out of him, and he waits for his cock to finish spewing ropes of his hot, thick cum into you. Your walls can’t help but to involuntarily contract in small aftershocks, especially when he’s still coming.

Bucky continues to moan as he does as you hoped, he came hard and deep inside you. When you’ve both finally come down from the high, it’s silent, and even though you’d both long forgotten you were on a set with multiple people watching you two, they were also quiet, completely taken back by the performance.

Incoherent cries come out of each of you, when Bucky agonizingly pulls his cock out. For the most part you’re able to keep him inside, but he’d proven to come so much some of it seeps out and runs down in streak fashion along your thigh, staining the bed sheets.

In your last act, as your gazes meet each other again, your fingers dip inside your soaked cunt and coat them. Hypnotized by you, Bucky watches as you greedily suck off his essence from your digits, and you evoke a small hum in his favor at the taste bursting in your mouth.

Bucky bites at his bottom lip, trying to not lose it again. When your hand disappears, he tenderly wipes the matted hair away from your face, smoothing your hair back before pulling your body close again, swooping your lips for a deep kiss.

“Shit, you’re good,” he admits, when he pulls away, effectively breaking the blissful silence. You bust out in a fit of giggles beside him and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He’s not sure what he’s feeling, but it’s not something you’re supposed to feel towards your co-star, especially in the porn industry.

He smiles at you, basking in your afterglow and all he knows is that he wants to feel this high with you over and over, so he decides to risk it all, “I hope this doesn’t ruin the moment, but can I take you out some time?”

You try your best to read him, wondering if he was just still in the heat of the moment. Either he’s really good or he’s being sincere, you can’t tell and you’re hoping you’re not overthinking it, but his eyes, this whole time, were what gave him away. He performed with them and he definitely spoke through them.

Before you could accept and give him a definite answer, you’re both brought back to reality, “we’re still rolling here!” Wanda reminds.

A/N: Thank the pain meds for this. I think I effectively used up my vacation days the right way, won’t you agree? Likes, reblogs and comments/emojis are appreciated!

#mrwinterr writes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan x reader #pornstar!bucky barnes #pornstar!bucky #pornstar!bucky au

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Crash Course - Bucky Barnes

a/n: this one? im in LOVE with this fic and im not even ashamed of it. there is just something about the MC helping him get used to living in the new century and im a sucker for it. so please enjoy this fluffy piece!

pairing: Bucky X Reader

word count: 3.6k

summary: Bucky is a regular at the café where you work at and seeing him struggling with technology, you offer to help him, teaching him the basics while you are both thinking about taking it a little further than just a crash course.

masterlist

The time between the morning rush and lunch time is always quiet, the café is almost completely empty, that’s why Bucky prefers to go out during that time, tuck himself away in the corner of the small but cozy place, a black coffee steaming on the wooden table in front of him, his laptop or a book or his phone reserving his attention, whatever he decides to put his energy into that day.

Today has been a rainy day, therefore the morning was a lot quieter than usually, not many likes to make an extra trip for a coffee in the pouring rain, so you’ve been enjoying the calmness, the soft jazz music playing through the speakers as you are putting away the freshly washed cups behind the counter. As if he has an appointment, Bucky walks into the café with a laptop under his arm, his cap hiding part of his face, but you can still see the shy smile on his lips as he closes the door behind him, the little bell chiming for a second time at his arrival.

“Welcome back, the usual?” you ask as he heads to his spot.

“Yes please,” he nods, shooting you a thankful smile.

You try to ignore the little butterflies in your stomach at the sight of the man, it’s almost ridiculous how you still get nervous when you see him, even though he has been showing up every day at the same time for the past about two months. You just can’t help it, there’s just something in those ocean eyes and perfect manner he always treats you with, something you don’t often get these days. Not many take the time to ask about your day or wish you a good one after you hand them their coffee, but Bucky is different. The same question falls from his lips every time you appear at his table with his order.

“How has your day been going?” he asks when you place the cup next to his laptop that’s loading.

“Pretty quiet, the rain keeps people away,” you chuckle, hoping your blush is not as apparent as it feels. “What about yours?”

“Just the same as usual,” he smiles softly and you nod, though you have no idea what’s usual for him. He might be friendly and quite welcoming when he is sitting at the café, he often chats with you about anything and everything, yet still, you know near nothing about him and his life outside of this place. It’s clear he is the kind of person that prefers to keep things to himself, but sometimes you are so desperate for just the smallest crumb of information about him. With the lack of details, you often find yourself making up things about him, like what his favorite dish is, where he likes to shop, what shows he watches on the TV. You might be entirely wrong about all of these, but it’s all you have.

Moving back behind the counter you busy yourself with cleaning it off as Bucky’s attention shifts to the screen in front of him. There are only two more customers in there and they are quite locked away in their own world as well, a college student working on some kind of assignment on her second espresso and an old lady solving Sudoku at the table near the window, sipping on a nice latte.

You can’t help but glance in his direction every now and then as you move the muffins around on the counter. He seems deeply focused, eyebrows knitted together as he is clicking away on the computer. From the looks of it, he is solving some kind of enigma, but when you walk past his table you see that he has an email open on the screen, his cursor moving around kind of aimlessly.

“Not finding the right words?” you ask, stopping to clean the table next to his that was previously occupied by a young couple. His eyes snap up to you before he huffs shaking his head.

“No, I’m just… terribly bad at IT stuff and I’m supposed to “CC” someone on this email,” he explains, using his fingers to air-quote as he glances back at the screen. “But if I’m being honest I don’t even know what it means,” he admits with a nervous chuckle.

You find it amusing, even cute that he is like an old man with these stuff. You’ve seen him struggling to type in a text message before on his flip phone that’s from the last century for sure and now this.

Placing the tray of cups down on the table you move over to him, taking the free chair next to him as you reach for the laptop, but you stop before touching it.

“May I…?”

“Go ahead,” he gestures with a nod.

You turn the device towards yourself as you click a few times, bringing up the option to send a copy of the email to another receiver.

“CC means that more people get the same email. You can put their addresses here. But you can also BCC people, in that case, the original receiver won’t see if the email was sent to others as well,” you explain patiently. Bucky tries his best to focus on the screen and what you’re saying, rather than the way your lips are moving and how badly he wants to taste them.

You haven’t been the only one feeling flustered and like a giddy teenager and Bucky didn’t choose this café as his usual spot for nothing. He spotted you the first time he stumbled in and the way you smiled brightly at everyone and the sweet chiming of your laughter made him want to come back the moment he stepped out that day. So he returned the next day and then the next day again… and now he couldn’t even imagine a day without seeing your eyes light up when he walks in while he can only hope you are just as happy to see him as he is to see you.

You help him send his email and you cheer in victory once it’s done and sent.

“See? It’s not as hard as it seems,” you smile at him gently, patting his arm that’s covered by a hoodie and your eyes fall onto his gloved hands on the tabletop.

“Yeah, I just have a lot of catching up to do from the past seven decades,” he mumbles under his breath, though he immediately regrets not keeping his mouth shut.

Your eyes flicker to his hand once again, then up to meet his gaze and he knows he just outed himself. He is expecting the usual: disgust, disappointment, even fear. That’s how most people react when they find out who he really is. But as he stares back at you, scared like a little kitten, you just smile back at him softly.

It’s not that you haven’t heard of the Avengers, because it’s impossible not to know who they are. You were just not expecting one of them to become a regular at your working place. The few times you saw him on TV he had long hair and his face was covered with a mask, so you’re not surprised you didn’t put the picture together. But knowing now who he is, you don’t see him in a worse lighting. If anything, you feel a little sad that he had to go through so much in his extremely long life.

“Well, feel free to ask any more questions. I’m not an IT guy, but I can help you with everyday stuff,” you tell him and he is in awe at your very normal, very sweet reaction. All he can do is nod as you stand from the table and grab the tray you abandoned not long ago, moving back behind the counter.

When you glance up your gaze meets his as he is still staring at you, nervous, a little anxious, but definitely relieved by your smooth reaction to finding out his identity. You shoot him a bright smile before moving to the table of the old lady who asks for another latte and as Bucky follows your frame move across the room he can’t help the small smile that tugs on his lips.

Your offer doesn’t stay unused. In fact, Bucky shows up at the café the next few days with a handful of questions for you, genuine ones, and a few he already knows the answer to, but wants to hear you explain them anyway. And you help him with anything, sitting at his table whenever you have a few free minutes between customers. He asks you about the internet, social media, online data bases and sources, going through a list from the little notebook he always keeps with himself.

The times spent with him are your favorite part of the day. You always look forward to whatever issue Bucky is going to bring up, fearing that one day he might run out of questions, but that just never comes. And you don’t know it, but your little sessions are the highlights of his days as well, listening to your smooth voice as you explain even the smallest things to him with so much patience, he is convinced you should become a teacher.

He thinks about asking you out every day, the question is always on the tip of his tongue.

What are you doing tonight? Would you want to go out with me? Do you want to grab a bite with me after your shift?

However he just never gets to actually say the words out loud. He is growing impatient with himself, he used to have no problem with asking girls out, but seven decades and another life as a brain-washed assassin later, this task feels way too impossible.

You’ve been telling him to get a smartphone for the past couple of days and though he seemed adamant, one day he shows up with a brand new one, still in the box.

“Oh my God, is that what I think it is?” you tease him with a dramatic gasp. Chuckling to himself he nods as he places the box to the counter while you are making the order of one of the customers. Today has been a little busier than usually, probably because of the special offer of 10% off from the new Cuban coffee beans your boss ordered in.

“I need a teacher to show me the ropes though.”

“Oh, Bucky, I would love to, but today is a bit crowded,” you pout as you put the lid onto the paper cup and hand it over to the customer, another one already walking in, eyeing the offer written on the black board behind you.

He didn’t even think you wouldn’t say yes, it never occurred to him that the timing might not be the best. You see as his smile slowly disappears from his scruffy face and your heart breaks seeing him like this.

“Yeah, sorry. Don’t want to keep you up,” he mumbles feeling defeated, but before he could grab the box from the counter, you put your hand on it, your fingers brushing against his gloved one, the tiny touch making both of you flustered.

“But how about after work?” you suggest and his eyes immediately light up. Spending time with you without any customers interrupting? That sounds like heaven to him.

“Y-you sure? If you have something to do, I—“

“Nothing to do,” you smile at him. You grab a napkin from the counter and a pan from near the cash register, quickly scribbling down your address before handing it over to him. “I’ll be home by seven,” you inform him as he glances down at your handwriting, noting how well it fits your personality. He then looks back at you nodding, as if he was just handed the best Christmas present ever.

“I’ll be there,” he smiles gratefully before stepping away from the counter and letting you work.

Five minutes after seven, Bucky is standing at your front door with a bag of Chinese food in his hands as he is trying to build up the courage to ring your doorbell. He found out that you live just a few corners away from the café, so he found your address easily.

“Come on, dude. Don’t be such a loser,” he mumbles to himself as he circles his shoulders before finally pushing the button. A short, buzzing sound is heard from the other side of the door and he stares at the 6B sign in front of you as he hears footsteps from inside. A few moments later the door swings open and there you are, still wearing the same clothes from earlier, a bright smile adorning your face as you beam at your guest.

“Come on in!” you gesture for him as he steps into the small apartment. “Tried to clean up a bit, but if I’m being honest I’m starting to grow out this place,” you chuckle as you push a box out of the way. It’s a small studio apartment with everything cramped into one space except the bathroom. You have a double bed pushed up against the wall in the corner, a small sofa with your wardrobe next to it, a TV, a tiny coffee table, a bookshelf and a dresser, a little dining table near the kitchen with three chairs and a pantry right next to the fridge that stands where the hardwood floor changes into checkered tiles. It really is a tiny space that holds a lot of stuff, but all the gadgets and clutter makes it cozy, lived-in, a place that’s so much like you that he feels like he is peeking inside your head as he walks farther inside.

“I brought dinner,” he shyly holds the bag up as you lock the door.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” you smile at him gratefully, because you didn’t really have time to buy anything on your way home since you had to make a quick trip to the post office after your shift, leaving you no spare time before his arrival.

“It’s the least I can do for all the help,” he smiles as you take the bag from him and bring it to the designated living room area of the place. Bucky joins you on the sofa and he thanks all higher powers your place is so small that you only have a loveseat, giving him the chance to sit close to you. Your thigh brushes against his as you hand him a box and make yourself comfortable as well, starting your feast while he asks you about your day, listening to your every word intently.

When the food is gone and you’ve grabbed two beers for the two of you, he pulls out the phone that’s the reason behind his visit. He bought a simple one, not at all one of the latest versions and it’s going to be the perfect model for him to learn the ropes on.

You help him put his SIM card into the new phone and then you set his account up before finally gaining access to the phone. You start with the basic features, showing him how to make a call or send a text before moving onto the different apps and possibilities while he listens to you as if you were talking about rocket science, but in a way, it feels like that for him.

“And here you can switch to the front camera,” you explain as you push the button and suddenly, the two of you come into picture on the screen. “Perfect for taking selfies,” you add with a chuckle.

“Oh, selfies. I’m not too good with those,” he huffs shaking his head.

“Because you probably haven’t found your angle!” you smirk. “Everyone has a good angle.”

“You think so?” you knits his eyebrows together.

“Mhm, look!”

Opening the contacts you go to yours, choosing the option to add a picture that will show up on the screen when you call him, and open the camera to take one instead of choosing from the empty gallery. Holding up the phone you position it so your good angle is in the picture before snapping the photo and saving it as your caller ID.

“See?” you smile at him before handing the device back to him. He just nods, even though he can only think about how all your angles are perfect to him and that now he has a picture of you in his phone. “Let’s take one together!” you beam and moving closer to him you take the phone once again, holding it up in front of you, trying to fit both of you into the frame.

Bucky tries his best to focus on the picture, but he can’t ignore how close you are to him, he can smell your shampoo and your cheek is almost pressed against his as you smile into the camera. The corners of his mouth curl up as his eyes fix at your reflection on the screen before you snap the photo. Opening up the camera roll you take a better look at it and it’s probably your favorite photo that has ever been taken of you. Mostly because he is in it as well, smiling so sweetly.

“It’s a good one,” you say and as you turn your head to the side you realize how close you really are to him.

“Yeah?” he breathes out, definitely aware of just the few inches separating the two of you.

“I-if you had an Instagram I would tell you to post it…” you stutter as your eyes flicker down to his lips, the urge to lean in and kiss him growing with each passing second.

Feeling a little dizzy, one of your hands fall to his lower arm, the one that’s made out of metal and your gaze drops to where you are touching him, a panic filled look flashing through his eyes.

He thinks that this is where the moment is ruined, where you realize the monster he really is and decide you don’t want anything to do with him. He almost starts to apologize for God knows what reason when you reach out and your fingers start to work on the straps of his gloves. It takes a few moments for him to realize what you are doing, and he tries to pull his hand back, but you grab it stopping him from doing it.

“It’s alright,” you smile at him softly, your eyes meeting his as you finish what you started and pull the glove off his hand revealing the metal underneath the leather. Then you move onto his other hand and do the same, dropping the pair of gloves to the floor as you take both his hands in yours, thumbs running across his knuckles, feeling the difference between his own hand and the artificial one.

You see his jaw flexing at the touch and reaching up you cup his cheek in your palm, making him to look you in the eyes. The strong and confident man you see sometimes is gone now, fear and hesitation taking over his expression as your other hand keeps holding his vibranium one.

“I’m sorry,” it falls from his lips as he closes his eyes for a second.

“For what exactly?” you ask with a soft chuckle. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t have to hide yourself around me.”

“You don’t find it… scary?”

“Not at all,” you assure him. “You can’t be held accountable for what happened to you. Anyone who thinks differently is just an ignorant asshole,” you add grinning and it finally breaks his fearful expression, planting a smile on his handsome face.

Keeping your hand on his cheek you lean closer, your nose touching his but you stop before your lips could meet, giving him the chance to pull back. But he never does. Instead, he closes the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips against yours, finally making the fantasy you both have been daydreaming about reality. He starts off slowly, savoring each other gently, getting accustomed to the feeling, but it doesn’t take long before the kiss grows hungrier and your tongues meet in the middle.

Your hands rest at the base of his neck while his find your waist, pulling you closer until you swing a leg over him, sitting on his lap as you smile against his lips. His kisses feel delicate and soft yet very passionate at the same time, you love the dynamic you create, tugging and biting each other playfully, it feels like kissing him is the sole purpose of your life.

When it gets hard for you to breathe you pull back, eyes opening and finding his flushed face as he stares back at you with bright, joyous eyes, his lips slightly swollen, already making you want to go back to where you were just a moment ago.

“Who knew selfies could be so much fun,” he jokes making you laugh, his heart fluttering in his chest at the sound that’s so dear to him.

“I’m glad you liked my crash course on smart phones,” you grin down at him, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “Do you have any more questions?”

Smirking his hand, his flesh one, moves up your back as he presses you closer, your lips almost touching his.

“Oh, I’ve got plenty,” he chuckles before kissing you again eagerly.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky oneshot #bucky one shot #bucky fluff #bucky blurb #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws

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thimbil · 3 years

Text

Having some thoughts about the references and inspirations used for the Bad Batch’s designs.

So Boba Fett is my absolute favorite character and Temeura Morrison was perfect casting. I went to see the 2008 TCW movie in theaters because I was so excited to see him again, even if he was animated. You can imagine my disappointment. Whoever was on screen was not Temeura Morrison. You could sort of see a resemblance if you squinted and didn’t think too hard about it. They replaced Temeura with Racially Ambiguous G.I. Joe. If I didn’t know better and someone told me the animated clones are space Italians from the moon of New Jersey I would buy it. One Million Brothers Pizzeria and Italian Bistro. Not that there’s something wrong with being space Italian, I just don’t think it’s the right choice for the Fetts. The design got slightly improved by season 7 but it still bugs the hell out of me.

I did eventually get into the show later and (of course) got invested in the clones. Unfortunately, they were largely sidelined by the Jedi storylines. Out of the two new main characters created for TCW, Ahsoka definitely got more development and focus than Rex. When they announced The Bad Batch, I was excited to see a show specifically devoted to the clones… at least that’s what it said on the tin. We have all seen what lurks beneath those stylish helmets.

Jango Fett, you are NOT the father.

So who is?

Based on interviews with Filoni, it sounds like the Bad Batch was a George Lucas idea. And like all his ideas, it’s super derivative. The original trilogy directly lifted elements from sci fi serials, westerns, and samurai movies, more specifically Kurosawa films like The Hidden Fortress. For The Bad Batch character designs, the influence is obviously American action and adventure movies.

Now let’s get specific. Bad Batch, who’s your daddy?

Hunter

Sylvester Stallone as Rambo in First Blood 1982. That bandana has become an integral part of the iconic action hero look. You see a character wearing one and it’s a visual shorthand for either “this character is a tough guy” like Billy played by Sonny Landham in Predator 1987, or “this character thinks he is/wants to be a tough guy” like Brand played by Josh Brolin in The Goonies 1985 or Edward Frog played by Corey Feldman in The Lost Boys 1987.

Hunter’s model is closest to the original clone base. If you look closely you will see the eyebrows are straighter with a much lower angle to the arch. His nose is also not the same shape as a standard clone like Rex, including a narrower bridge. It’s certainly not Temeura Morrison’s nose. Remember what I said about space Italians? It didn’t take much to push the existing clone design to resemble an specific Italian man instead of a specific Māori man. The 23&Me came back, and Hunter inherited more than the bandana from Sylvester.

Crosshair

The long narrow nose, the sharp cheekbones, the scowl. That’s no clone, that’s just animated Clint Eastwood. Not even Young and Hot Clint Eastwood from Rawhide 1959-1965. With that hair, I’m talking Gran Torino 2008. The man of few words schtick and family friendly toothpick in lieu of cigar are pure Eastwood as The Man With No Name from Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns A Fist Full of Dollars 1964, For a Few Dollars More 1965, and The Good the Bad and the Ugly 1966.

In a way, this is full circle because the actor Jeremy Bulloch took inspiration from Clint Eastwood for his performance as Boba Fett in ESB.

Wrecker

In an interview Filoni lists the Hulk as an (obvious) inspiration for Wrecker. Ever seen the old Hulk tv show from 1978? Well take a look at the actor who played him, Lou Ferrigno. Would you look at that. Even has his papa’s nose.

You could make the argument that Wrecker was influenced by The Rock, an appropriately buff ‘n bald Polynesian (Samoan, not Maori) man. But look at him next his Fast and Furious costar Vin Diesel and tell me which one resembles Wrecker’s character model more.

Tech

Tech is a little trickier for me to place. If he has a more direct inspiration it must be something I haven’t seen. That said, his hairline is very Bruce Willis as John McClane in Die Hard 1988. His quippiness and large glasses remind me of Shane Black as Hawkins from Predator 1987. In terms of his face, he looks a but like the result of McClane and Hawkins deciding to settle down and start a family. Although, Tech’s biggest contributors are probably just everyone on TV Trope’s list for Smart People Wear Glasses.

And finally,

Echo

Oh Echo. Considering he wasn’t created for the Bad Batch, he probably wasn’t based on a particular character or movie. But if I had to guess, his situation and appearance remind me a lot of Alex Murphy played by Peter Weller in Robocop 1987. However, Robocop explored the Man or Machine Identity Crisis with more nuance, depth, and dignity. Yikes.

The exact tropes and references used in The Bad Batch have been done successfully with characters who aren’t even human. Gizmo from Gremlins 2: The New Batch 1990 had a brief stint with the Rambo bandana. I could have picked any number of characters for Defining Feature Is Glasses but here is the most cursed version of Simon of Alvin and the Chipmunks. Suffer as I have. Marc Antony with his beloved Pussyfoot from Looney Tunes has the same tough guy with a soft center vibe as Wrecker and his Lula (also a kind of cat). Hell, in the same show we have Cad Bane sharing Cowboy Clint Eastwood with Crosshair. I actually think Bane makes a better Eastwood which is wild considering Crosshair has Eastwood’s entire face and Bane is blue.

So we’ve established you don’t need your characters to look exactly like their inspirations to match their vibe. So why go through the trouble and cost of creating completely new character designs instead of recycling and altering assets they already had on hand? Just slap on a bandana, toothpick, goggles, and make Wrecker bigger than the others while he does a Hulk pose and you’re done. Based on the general reaction to Howzer it would have been a low effort slam dunk crowd pleaser.

But they didn’t do that.

So here’s the thing. I like the tropes used in The Bad Batch. I am a fan of action adventure movies from the 80s-90s, the sillier the better. I am part of the Bad Batch’s target audience. Considering what I know about Disney and Lucasfilm, I went in with low expectations. I genuinely don’t hate the idea of seeing references to these actors and media in The Bad Batch. I don’t think basing these characters on tropes was a bad idea. If anything it’s a solid starting point for building the characters.

The trouble is nothing got built on the foundation. The plot is directionless, the pacing is wacky, and the characters have nearly no emotional depth or defining character arcs. They just sort of exist without reacting much while the story happens around them. But I can excuse all of that. You don’t stay a fan of Star Wars as long as I have not being able to cherrypick and fill in the gaps. This show has a deeper issue that shouldn’t be ignored.

Why do the animated clones bear at best only a passing resemblance to their live action actor? In interviews, Filoni wouldn’t shut up but the technological advancements in the animation for season 7. So if they are updating things, why not try to make the clones a closer match to their source material? Why did they have to look like completely different people in The Bad Batch to be “unique”? Looking like Temeura Morrison would have no bearing on their special abilities and TCW proved you can have identical looking characters and still have them be distinct. In fact, that’s a powerful theme and the source of tragedy for the clones’ narrative overall.

Here’s Filoni’s early concept art of Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, and Hunter. (Interesting but irrelevant: Wrecker seems to have a cog tattoo similar to Jesse’s instead of a scar. Wouldn’t it have been funny if they kept that so when they met in season 7 one if them could say something like “Hey we’re twins!” That’s a little clone humor. Just for you guys 😘)

None of these drawings look like the clones in TCW, much less Temeura Morrison. Let’s be generous. Maybe Filoni struggles with drawing a real person’s likeness, as many people do. But he had to hand this off to other artists down the line whose job specifically involves making a stylized character resemble their actor. Yet the final designs missed the mark almost as much as this initial concept. Starting to seem as if the clones looking more like Temeura Morrison was never even on the table. It wasn’t a lack of creativity, skill or technical limitations on the part of the creative team. I don’t think there is an innocent explanation. They went out of their way to make the final product exactly how we got it.

This goes beyond homage. They could have made the same pop culture references and character tropes without completely stripping Temeura Morrison from the role he originated. It was a very purposeful choice to replace him with more immediately familiar actors from established franchises and films. It wouldn’t shock me if Filoni, Lucas, and anyone else calling the shots didn’t even think hard or care enough about the decision to immediately recognize a problem. And I don’t think they believed anyone else would either. At least no one whose opinion they cared about. Those faces are comfortingly familiar and proven bankable. They are what we’re all used to seeing after all. They’re white.

Lack of imagination, bad intentions, or simple ignorance doesn’t really matter in the end. The result is the same. Call it what it is. They replaced a man of color with a bunch of white guys. That’s by the book garden variety run of the mill whitewashing. There’s no debate worth having about it. For a fanbase that loves to nitpick things like whether or not it’s in character for Han to shoot first or Jeans Guy in the Mandalorian, we sure are quick to find excuses for clones who look nothing like their template. Why is that? If you don’t see the problem, congratulations. Your ass is showing. Pull your jeans up.

#star wars #the bad batch #unwhitewashtbb #wrecker #crosshair #tech #hunter #echo

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