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#I swear the bread just drops out
justabunchofdragons · 2 years
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also the feeling of winning a politically based argument with my dad is soooo fucking good
#talking about bitchass sunak and how he's proposed a £5-10 fee for if u wanna go to the doctors#and i am EXTREMELY against that shit#the nhs is free for a fucking reason. nobody should have to drop a single PENNY to be able to live#anyway i said that (without the swears) and he started to tell me why actually it would “reduce nhs strain!!” cuz apparently ppl just go to#the hospital to “get out of the cold”#and then i said but dad you see how that's entirely another problem. to solve that problem you fix the cold ???????#(ie. drop heating bills. like come ON it doesn't take a 200IQ to figure that out)#at this point he walks outta the room and closes the door. reopens the door upon me yelling that he was avoiding saying im right#then he comes back and tells me (very patronisingly) that coming out of the cold means just coming into hospital with unnecessary problems#to which i said well i have not heard of anyone doing that (we are indian and won't go to the doctor unless like. we are fucking dying)#and he says you'll be surprised... and i was like ok. i bet its just ppl who are lonely. which again !! another problem entirely !!#and i said well putting the fee in place won't actually stop that. ppl who are lonely will keep being lonely#and maybe we'll see an increase in elderly suicides. or more reports of houses that people just stop coming out of#or MAYBE we'll start hearing reports of ppl who die of entirely treatable diseases and illnesses cuz they couldn't afford to go#or were in the middle of choosing between food for their kids and heating one (1) room and decided fuck it this recurring stomach ache#might just be menopause or whatever the fuck. i goes to my dad people play down symptoms all the TIME#and it starts from youth !!! from school !! we are told if u have a headache or a stomach ache just come in ^_^ its better than missing !!#like wtf. what kind of shit system is that. it feels horrible to come to school when people are very clearly ill#you deserve to be resting not suffering through a whole day in pain & not able to breathe & honestly u don't learn shit on those days#didn't tell my dad that. but. he responds by saying there's ppl whove said that stuff like milk bread eggs should be free. and i said yea#and bathroom products. by which i mean toilet paper and pads and tampons#and he was clearly expecting me to disagree with this because he said um ok. well yeah ! exactly#mans changed his tone SO fast once he figured out he was not winning this. it felt so good#i love being a semi adult in this household where despite always being treated like one not actually having the opinions to feel like one#anyway thats my storytime. moral of the story is basic necessities should be free. full stop
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slttygeto · 1 year
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SWEAR IT’S JUST RIGHT FOR YOU. | NANAMI. K
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જ⁀➴ synopsis: when you and nanami are equally as obsessed with each other, it creates this perfect balance. you cook for him, and he treats your pussy like it’s a blessing.
જ⁀➴word count: 3,3k
જ⁀➴ c.w: pure filth with a bit of fluff, soft dom! nanami, he turns a bit rough towards the end, rough facefucking, cunnilingus + fingering, dirty talk + praise, riding, multiple orgasms + squirting.
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When Nanami praises you, it’s soft, gentle and endearing. His rough palm gently collides with the soft skin of your jaw and his thumb traces your cheek. He is reminding you of how much you mean to him, how he would burn the entire world if it meant keeping you safe and protected. You are his fairy, his delicate girl whom he could never imagine even raising his voice at. When he scolds you, his voice is stern and filled with worry despite the displeased tone, his hand grabs at your shoulder not to hurt you, and you want to caress your thumb over his forehead and get him to stop furrowing his eyebrows so deeply.
“You’ll get wrinkles, Ken.” Your voice pulls him out of his displeased state for a moment, and Kento hears birds chirping outside of the window and the sunbeam caresses your skin—It hits your beautiful eyes and he takes in every detail; your eyebrows, the slight discoloration the bottom of your jaw, the mole that seems to bring out the beauty in you even more, your eyelashes that aren’t curled but naturally have a pretty shape to them and he heaves out a sigh. He is consumed by love wherever you are near.
Heaven knows how much the man craved domesticity. He found comfort in it—a routine, a promise that when he comes home, he gets to take off his brown shoes at the front door, put his keys in the small bowl that has a mirror hanging right above it. He would then look at his reflection in the mirror and look away immediately when he notices the sweat stains as he removes his jacket. He hears your footsteps as you rush out of the kitchen with a pretty apron around your waist. You made bread, and Nanami isn’t sure whether to be infatuated by the smell of it, or the smell of your hair that hits his nostrils as you wrap your arms around his waist.
He wouldn’t care that your hair is slightly damp, but he would breathe out how the tank top you were wearing was going to get you sick if you don’t watch out. And Kento cares a lot about your comfort, he respects you a lot, so when you hug his sweaty self, his hands would gently try to remove your arms from around him and protest that he was dirty.
“It’s all hard work, Ken. I like it.” To which he wouldn’t say much but give in and let you hold him. He understands that to an extent, having a natural smell like this was attractive, he’s always told you that he likes it when you come home complaining about sweating too much and all he says is that it makes you even more attractive. Your flushed cheeks, your hair sticking up in small antennas, your nose scrunching up at how disgusting it feels to have your shirt cling onto your skin—
“Can I join you in the shower?” Which always catches you off guard, but you accept of course and Nanami sets his book down, he removes his glass and folds them neatly on top of the book before following right behind you in the bathroom. You giggle nervously when you see him close the door and lock it before leaning against it, and you let out a small and timid ‘what?’ when he keeps eyeing with the same intense eyes.
“You are beautiful.” He never denies that he is looking at you—admiring you, but instead reminds you every time that nothing in the world can change his mind about his infatuation with you.
And somewhere in between that comforting thought of coming home to you, a show playing on TV in the living room, bread baking in the oven and the smell of a clean home—Nanami dreams of fucking you stupid on the couch. He wouldn’t remove your apron, he wouldn’t let you wash your hands off of the flour—he would simply drop his pants, push your shorts down and spread your legs only to find out that you weren’t wearing any panties.
He feels sick to his stomach at thought, sighs and rubs his forehead at the fact that he was imagining such dirty things to do with you. If it were a normal fantasy like coming home and fucking you on the bed, he wouldn’t feel that bad. But that was the thing about fantasies, they existed in our head without our control, and it was up to us to act out on them or not. Kento cherished you too much to scare you off with his oh-so-called sick and twisted fantasy of his.
He comes home after a long day at work, and it’s a few minutes past seven. The house isn’t quiet, there is a show playing in the background and that was the first thing that had Kento stop dead in his tracks. He chooses to brush it off and simply rids himself of his jacket and shoes, sets his keys on the bowl before the smell of bread hits his nostrils and his lips part in confusion.
Was he dreaming? Did he somehow astral project into another dimension where his fantasy was a reality? It only confuses him further when you come out of the kitchen wearing an apron—in this reality though, you’ve chosen to wear one of his shirts instead, and Nanami doesn’t know if it’s better or worse. He tries to hide it, the way he can feel his cock hardening in his pants as you approach him with his shirt, fuzzy socks and hands that had traces of flour on them.
“You’re home.” Is how you greet him, your cheek resting on his chest and melting against his body as you breathe in his scent, a constant reminder that you get to be greeted with this sight five times a week around the same time. You boyfriend’s hand travels up to the back of your head and his fingers comb through your hair as he hums a tired response.
“Did you miss me?” Obviously, is what you want to say. But instead, when you look up at him and notice his hooded eyes, you feel his other rest on the small of your back and your heart leaps in your chest. All of a sudden, you feel hot and you feel something poking at you and you’re just surprised.
It was normal for your boyfriend to have needs, you were used to the sexual frustration that comes with having such a stressful job—but normally, Kento would avoid initiating anything with you until he’s showered and made sure he was clean. For him to insinuate that he wanted you, and so loudly with those eyes—you could feel your panties getting ruined.
“Pretty girl,” he calls out for you again when he notices your silence and the hand resting on your waist holds your chin whilst the other firmly grabs your hair. “Did you miss me?” He asks again, stern and you nod. You missed him too much, you realize. Because the lack of conversation beside greeting him and telling him he’s home—all of it was intensifying the sexual tension. It was almost like your body was warning you that Kento wasn’t going to go easy on you this time and you felt jittery.
“I missed you, Kento. Did you miss me?” You say as your hands grab onto his blouse in fists. You bring him closer to you, and gasp when you feel his hand travel down to hold your neck. He isn’t trying to cut your air, but when you make eye contact with him and see that his face has darkened, you let out a small noise.
“Let me show you instead.”
On the couch, Nanami wastes no time to attach his lips to yours and kiss you breathless. He was such a good kisser, always so passionate, always making sure to tease the corner of your lips before biting nibbling here and there—and fuck, did he lose his mind every time you tried to suck on his tongue. He would just push you on your back and cage you between his strong arms.
Nanami feels like he is constantly losing his breath whenever you are near, but when you grab onto his forearms and moan, he goes feral. Suddenly, he is reminded of how much weaker you are compared to him—frail, delicate, soft and sensitive to his touch. He is lucky, he is blessed and he makes sure to spoil you and that pretty pussy.
His kisses trail all the way down from your neck to your collarbones, his takes a whiff of your perfume and hums.
“You smell so sweet,” he mumbles against your skin. Instead of removing your apron and shirt, he pushes them up to reveal the cute panties that you were wearing and his finger traces the wet patch that’s already formed.
“Kento,” you call out to your boyfriend breathless, desperate—as though you were on a deserted island and he was the water to quench your thirst. Your legs spread on instinct for the man to settle between them and you feel his hot breath right against your panties.
“But you smell even better here… Right here,” he says and he pushes your panties to the side to reveal the wet mess hiding behind the fabric. You prop yourself up a bit higher to be able to look at Nanami while he eats you out, and you blush when you notice that he’s already staring at you.
“Up.” He pats your ass and you lift up your hips to allow him to remove your panties for you, but instead of throwing them on the floor, you see him take a whiff of the fabric and sigh and your blush darkens.
“Can I keep these, my love?” He asks sweetly, voice so deep you felt like your pussy was embarrassing you with how wet it was and you mindlessly nod. “Is that so?” He knew you wouldn’t say no, but he still wanted to thank you for trusting him with his perverted intentions.
“You’re too good for me.” Is the last thing that you hear from him before he dives between your legs and fuck—he is too good. You know Nanami is good, you don’t doubt that he can make you cum as many times as he wants before reaching his own high, but something about him eating your pussy like a treat, enjoying every drop and sucking on your clit with the intention of making you lose your mind—that was too much.
You feel his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks before smothering his face in your pussy. His nose nudges at your clit while his tongue licks at your folds and you think that for a moment, maybe he is enjoying this more than you do. His hands grip your thighs to keep them in place, and when he notices that your legs are starting to shake and your hips are bucking up, he takes one look at you and his dick almost bursts.
Flushed chest, swollen lips and a fucked out face. If Nanami wasn’t already in love with your beauty, then he feels himself falling deeper for you. You fall apart on his tongue a couple of seconds later, he enjoys the way you gasp, moan and cry as he keeps his lips attached to your clit and you try to push his head away.
“Too much,” you gasp. “Kento!” you cry out when you feel his two fingers nudge at your folds and by this point, you are breathing too hard. You feel his thick finger prod at that one spongy spot almost immediately and your eyes roll to the back of your head.
He presses a hand to your stomach and praises are spilling from his lips like a chant, watching as your soul almost escaped your body with every thrust of his thick fingers perfectly against your spot.
“That’s right baby, you’re doing so good,” “this pussy takes me so well,” “you make me so proud, look at this pussy—fucking filthy,”
The mixture of praise and him losing his composure and cursing has you reaching your orgasm again faster than expected. But this time, you make a bit of a mess and you try to apologize for ruining the couch and his clothes but he is quick to shut you up with his lips.
“You’ve just squirted on me, and you want to apologize?” he mumbles against your cheek, fingers still buried inside you and you whine.
“I made a mess,” you try to reason with your beast of a boyfriend but he quickly retreats his fingers back and delivers a harsh smack to your pussy.
“It’s never been a problem when it’s our bed, has it?”
“Kento,” you call out softly when your boyfriend starts to kiss at your neck again. “Kento, fuck my mouth.” Nanami’s brain short circuits at this and the shock is evident on his features. He doesn’t have time to stop you or protest because you are quick to get off the couch and on your knees for him.
“You’ve been so good to me, keeping me satisfied and happy—I bet you want to fuck my mouth sometimes, don’t you?” Your hands are quickly unbuckling his belt. You don’t remove his pants completely, only enough to free his painfully hard cock from his boxers. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you watch as he throws his head back on the couch with each slow stroke.
“You don’t know what you are asking for,” is what he says as he tries to get you to back out of this, but you are determined to let him ruin your life. Him, the only man on this planet whom you would blindly trust with your life.
“I know what I am asking for.”
“I could hurt you,”
“I will tap your thigh if you do,” and then there’s a few moments of silence where Kento just stares deeply into your eyes. When you see him lean down towards you, your breath catches in your throat and your lips part in shock when his hand goes to the back of your head and the other one grips your jaw open.
“Open up.” And when you do, he rests the fat tip of his cock on your tongue. The pre-cum is a bit salty but you don’t say anything as you let Kento handle your mouth to his liking. He tells you to open up a bit more and breathe before he starts to thrust his dick in and out of your mouth at a slow pace.
You’re taking it well at first, but when you notice your boyfriend’s thighs shaking, indicating that he is holding back on you, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.
Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you push his dick down your throat, nose nuzzling against his pubes and he curses out loud.
“Fuck--!” You repeat the same motion over and over again, and by the third time, your boyfriend finally breaks and starts fucking your mouth like a starved man. Your knees burn, and so do your lungs—the couch is moving every time Kento brings your head back on his cock and you’ve braced yourself on his thighs for support.
“Sorry—fuck, I’m sorry baby,” he says between gritted teeth. However, when his eyes catch that you’re rubbing your swollen clit to the same rhythm of your head on his cock, something in him snaps.
He pushes you off of his cock, and any complaint you head is drowned out when he stands up and his cock stands proud. You look up at him from your spot on the floor and brace yourself on his thighs again when you feel him grab your face and push his cock inside your mouth.
“Filthy fucking girl,” he breathes out. “Can’t even let me be sweet to you—shit,” based on how difficult it is to even talk properly, you guess that he is close and so you sneak a hand between his legs and starts fondling with his balls—you squeeze them, and that’s when Nanami finally breaks and cums down your throat with a broken moan.
Even while trying to catch his breath, Nanami’s hands caress your face and neck as he takes a seat and pulls you closer to him. He then helps you get back up on your feet and pulls you on his lap to kiss you. He can taste himself on your tongue even after you’ve swallowed everything.
“Was I good?” You ask when he pulls away from your lips to kiss your cheek and down your neck once again, a pattern that he’s learned always turns you into putty.
“Perfect, my love. You are perfect for me.”
You are surprised at how fast he gets hard again, but you supposed it’s also because you were literally grinding your bare pussy against his dick. Your hands hold onto his shoulders for support as you try to slip his dick past your folds, but you let out a surprised noise when he easily lifts you up and aligns the tip of his cock with your pussy.
“Noticed that you like my arms a lot,” he says and you are obliged to stare at his forearms and good lord—the way they flex as they hold you above his cock, Nanami lets out an amused chuckle when he sees a string of arousal drip directly on top of his cock. “You do like them, huh?”
“Baby,” you whimper and Kento cannot find it in him to tease you any longer. He gently drops you down on his cock and he immediately gets to work. His hand rests on the small of your back and pushes you towards him to press your chest flush against his, his hands then grip your ass cheeks and he starts to slam you up and down on his cock with so much ease.
You sound like a mess. The combination of your boyfriend’s strong arms and the tip of his thick cock abusing your spot turns you into a blabbering mess on top of him.
“So good, so good—fuck, oh fuck,” sounded like music to his ears. Your whines your moans, your fucked out look and your eyes begging him to ruin you—Nanami was addicted to every part of you.
And it only takes a few more messy and sloppy thrusts from him and you cum around him with a loud cry.
“There you go,” he says breathlessly, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him. “Make a mess on me, baby,”
You shake like a leaf on top of him, hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life and lips pressed against his neck.
“Think you can take a bit more for me? I’m really close, darling,”
“Hurry up,” you say desperately and as promised, Kento thrusts a few more times before he is cumming inside you with a loud groan. He buries his face in your neck, taking in your scent that has now been mixed with his own and a hint of sweat. He relaxes in your hold, hand tracing the small of your back as a way to get you to come down from your orgasm and perhaps even apologize for being a bit rough with you earlier.
All of his worries are brushed off when you pull away from him to press a kiss to his forehead, his nose then down to lips.
“I love you, Ken. I love you too much,” you announce, a hint of sleepiness to your voice and a smile finds its way to his face.
“I love you too, darling. I love you too much.”
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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appocalipse · 2 months
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the same thing ・❥・b. barnes
summary: during a mission, you put yourself in harm's way to protect bucky. back at the avengers compound, he wants to know why. | 1.4k words, angst with a happy ending
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
"You should be resting."
You don't turn your head as the familiar voice comes from behind you, too focused on the delicate art of making the perfect sandwich to look away. You are a woman on a mission. "I was hungry."
A few seconds later, he's standing next to you, leaning back against the countertop with arms folded across his broad chest. "It's been less than twelve hours since they patched you up."
He's not going to stop hovering, you realize, because that's what Bucky does when he's worried.
"Want half?" Maybe you can distract him with food.
He regards the towering monstrosity on the cutting board and the chaotic layers of meat, cheese, and veggies sticking out at all angles.
You can't help but grin as you slap another slice of bread on top. "A quarter, then?"
Bucky has the audacity to look offended. "I'm not eating that thing."
You cradle the plate in your left hand, holding the sandwich with your right, and give him a pointed look. "Your loss."
Bucky just watches, arms still crossed, as you take a huge bite. His blue eyes remain narrowed, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He's like a one-man intervention waiting to happen. You shrug and wander over to the kitchen table.
Sitting down is a bit of an effort. The wound on your side pulls as you slowly lower yourself onto the chair, but if you can keep from grimacing too hard, Bucky won't be able to tell, will he?
Your smile probably gives you away. He narrows his eyes further. "Why did you do that?"
"Because I'm hungry?"
"No." Bucky takes a step forward. "I meant why did you get between me and that shot?"
Good question. The answer is embarrassing and you'd sooner walk barefoot over hot coals than tell him the truth.
"Hm?"
Another step. "I have superhuman healing powers."
"I'll live."
"It was stupid."
"You're ruining my—ow," you mutter, dropping the sandwich as you instinctively put your hand over your bandage. There goes the carefully maintained poker face. You force yourself to remove your hand and look up at Bucky with what you hope is an innocent expression, even as your side throbs in protest. "My sandwich. You're ruining my sandwich. Are you sure you don't want a bite?"
Bucky is too smart to take the bait. He moves around the table, coming to stand in front of you. The whole 'arms-crossed-stern-glare' thing again. It would be intimidating if you didn't know him so well.
"You could've been killed," he's like a dog with a bone, you swear.
"But I wasn't," you say pointedly. "I'm fine."
"Fine? You were shot."
"Will you just let it go? It doesn't even...hurt...that much," you lie.
It will take a while for the super-soldier serum in your blood — a weaker variation of the same stuff that runs through Bucky's veins — to kick in and accelerate your healing.
Bucky exhales. He looks about ready to give you an earful, but then his gaze shifts and he notices the way you're holding your side, how stiffly you're sitting.
You move your traitorous hand away like you've been burned.
"How bad is it?"
"Huh?" you say in a deliberately casual tone. "It's...totally fine. Not bad, really. Don't worry. I don't even feel it."
There's the reason why you've never been a spy. You can't lie to save your life, apparently.
Or maybe just not to Bucky.
"Okay. It hurts, like, just a little bit...like—like not even hurts hurts, just..." you trail off with a grimace as he comes closer. "More of an itch?"
"An itch?" Bucky sounds dubious.
"More of a burn," you concede. "A...mildly annoying but totally manageable sort of a burn."
"You are a terrible liar."
"Okay, so it hurts," you snap, the last vestiges of your patience vanishing. "I have an extensive hole in my side, I get it. It's not—I don't want you to feel bad about it. It's really not terrible, I can take it."
Bucky shakes his head. "What if it had been worse? What if they'd shot you somewhere vital?"
"They didn't."
"But what if they had?"
"Then I would have died!"
Bucky looks at you like you just kicked him. "Yeah. That's what I'm trying to say."
You open your mouth, then close it.
"You think I want that?" he asks softly.
"No." You suddenly feel very small. "Of course not, I just...just..."
"Just what?"
"I don't know," you admit with a sigh. "It's just that you are...people need you, you know? And you have a life, people who care about you, but I'm just..."
A nobody. A girl with no past, who can barely make sense of her present.
"...it would be better if it was me. That's all."
"It would never be better if you were hurt."
"Bucky—"
"You don't get it, do you?" he asks in a low voice. "People need you too."
You roll your eyes. "Please. You mean the team?"
"Me," Bucky says pointedly. "You think it's easy for me? When you get hurt? It kills me."
The sandwich lays forgotten on the table, squashed flat under your clasped hands. "It...kills you?"
He just looks at you for a long moment.
Your heart flutters in your chest. You have a sudden, intense urge to break the silence with a terrible joke, a quip, something light and witty to dispel the heaviness in the air and make this moment go away. But before you can open your mouth, Bucky shakes his head.
"You kill me."
Okay, that's not where you thought this was going. "What?"
"When you say stuff like that. When you make it sound like you don't matter, like it's okay for you to get hurt. Or worse. It's not."
Oh.
"Bucky," you try again, with a more serious tone. "I don't—"
"Stop saying that," he cuts you off.
You realize your mouth is still hanging open and snap it shut.
"You want to know what I think?" Bucky is so close now you could reach out and touch him, if you were brave enough. "I think that you got this...thing in your head, that you're not good enough, or strong enough, or that you're broken somehow. I think that you forget that it's okay to want things. I think that maybe you think nobody needs you. That no one wants you."
You swallow. You're afraid to say anything, to move, because your heart is hammering against your ribs and Bucky is looking at you like he can see straight into your soul.
"But I do."
"Do...what?" you whisper.
"Want you."
It's the last thing you expect to hear. "Bucky, you don't mean that."
His voice drops an octave. "Don't tell me what I mean."
Your cheeks are burning. You feel pinned under his gaze. Your side is throbbing again and you have a mouthful of butterflies and it's all just too much.
You move to get up but only make it halfway before the wound pulls again and you wince. "Shit."
"Where do you think you're going?" Bucky reaches out to help you, one hand braced against your shoulder as you sink back down into the chair. His expression has softened. "You need to rest."
You really want to kiss him right now.
It's the closest he's ever been to you, perhaps. You can feel his breath on your face.
"I need to...? You really confuse me, Barnes."
"How so?"
"Well, first you tell me that I kill you, and then you say you want me. It's kind of a mixed message—"
"I'm not interested in being just friends with you," Bucky cuts you off abruptly. "Is that clear enough?"
Your lips part but nothing comes out. There's a warm, tingling sensation in your chest and you suddenly can't breathe properly. "That's—you—"
Bucky smirks, just a little. He looks almost...proud of himself? Like he's happy he's rendered you speechless for once.
You decide to take a page from his book and put him on the spot. "And what do you think I want?"
"I don't know," he murmurs, leaning even closer. "But I hope it's the same thing."
His lips brush against yours, soft and gentle. He pulls away and you want to chase after him but then he's back again and kissing you harder this time, all teeth and tongue and ragged breathing and heat.
You close your eyes. Your head is spinning and you can't get enough air but you're kissing him back now, both hands coming up to fist in his shirt, holding on for dear life.
His mouth trails down your neck, leaving hot kisses along your jawline. You let out a breathy sigh.
"Is that...supposed to help me heal faster, mhm?"
Bucky just smiles against your skin.
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v4mp1re-haven · 2 months
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'•.¸♡'Things they do that reminds you they love you.♡¸.•'
✦BAKUGO KATSUKI ✦ SHOTO TODOROKI ✦ IZUKU MIDORIYA✦
CW ➸ Spelling errors?
WHAT MUSIC IS PLAYING? ♫ Fluff, corny sweet fluff.
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Bakugo Katsukiೃ⁀➷
: ̗̀➛ When he reminds you to get ready for dinner at that one restaurant you love so much. He gets dressed up in his black and red tux, walking you to the car and driving you to a small hole in the wall diner he took you to for your first date. Every waitress there knows your orders by heart, having served you well over 20 times at this point.
: ̗̀➛When he patches you up after a rough patrol day, cursing to himself saying “If I ever see that guy again I’ll blast him to pieces.” His course fingers dig deep into your skin while he bandages your arm and leg. If he hears you whine he'll tsk and go lighter.
: ̗̀➛ How he almost always makes you a homemade lunch before you leave for patrol and always makes sure you take it. If you forget he’ll show up to where your patrolling and hit you on the back of your head, shoving the lunch into your hands before berating you on how “your such an airhead!” and staring at you as you eat.
: ̗̀➛ When your laying down on the couch together and he makes sure to grab your favorite pillow and blanket, though if you say anything about it he'll deny it and use them for himself.
: ̗̀➛ How he always knows when your feeling lonely or sad, Bakugo isn't a great person when it comes to comforting someone but he always tries for you. gathering together your favorite snacks and putting on your favorite movie or show so its just you laying down together. He complains about how stupid the show is, but he's secretly super engrossed into the drama going on.
: ̗̀➛ The way he toys with the solid black titanium ring on his ring finger when he's stressed or anxious. The thought of coming back home to you calming him down and getting him through the situations at hand.
: ̗̀➛ How when he thinks you’ve fallen asleep he plays with your hair and kisses you on your forehead. His hands lying on your waist and his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and giving you feather light kisses before saying a quiet “I love you.”
•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•´¨`•.¸¸.•*•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•´¨`•.¸¸.•*•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•´¨`•.¸¸.•*•´¨*•.¸
Shoto Todoroki ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
༊*·˚Shoto isn’t one for words or touch, but when he sees you need help or are really tired with dishes or dinner while it’s your turn he’ll immediately help you and tell you to “take a break.” Moving you out the way with his hand on your waist, giving you a small peck on the cheek before finishing the job.
༊*·˚ How he would never usually offer his food to anyone. But when it comes to you he gives you half of everything on his plate. "are you hungry?" he says, his hand extended offering you something to eat.
༊*·˚ Anytime your anniversary rolls around he'll plane a very romantic date. He takes his time planning them, Lights strung up in-between branches of a willow tree the yellowish bulbs showing the surroundings. He set down a blanket and got your favorite foods and drinks, along with his own as well. Your surprised to find a shiny ring between the lettuce and bread of your sandwhich.
༊*·˚ When his eyes light up anytime he sees you in a room or crowd. A small smile graces over his face when he sees you at any of his fan events, dropping everything no matter whose in line to kiss you on the cheek and walk you to his station.
༊*·˚ The way he cries when he sees you walk down the isle, looking sickeningly sweet and beautiful. His eyes are red and puffy as he admires you from his place at the altar.
༊*·˚ When he buys your amazon cart full of decorations for the house you bought together. Even though you told him you could buy it yourself he insisted swearing that "you can get me something later." you know its a lie though, but you play into it and thank him anyway.
༊*·˚ When he gets hit on randomly, of course this comes with being a hero, you both get it. He always ignores the unlucky suitors and walks over to you, sticking by your side as he suddenly becomes affectionate and touchy. When it happens to you he quickly places himself between you and whoever dared to try and flirt with you, showing off your ring finger saying "Oh did you want to know where the ring is from?" his tone passive aggressive and eyes filled with faux kindness.
⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙
.·:¨༺ Izuku Midoriya ༻¨:·.
¸.☆.¸ The Daily love letters or paragraphs he writes you before leaving for patrol or a mission. Going into deep description on how much he loves you and how awesome he thinks you are.
¸.☆.¸ When he comes back from a mission all bloody and beat the bandages hardly holding him together as he plops down on the bed, laying his head on top of you snoring while he almost immediately passes out. Dark green hair messy and strewn out as dirt and grime cover the usual silkiness of it.
¸.☆.¸ How he worships everything you do, giving your lit up figure on the television screen his full attention while you're being interviewed about a villain you took down. His scarred hand writing down notes into one of the many journals he has filled to the brim with notes exclusively for you. Little sketches and doodles on almost every page.
¸.☆.¸ The way He plays your favorite music in the car even if he doesn't like it, rolling down the windows and blasting it while he takes you out for a surprise carnival date. Though it doesn't last long before you have to leave, being bombarded by fans of you both.
¸.☆.¸ How he's quick to defend you in any scandal or rumor someone starts about you. If he's in an interview and they ask him about said rumor his face contorts to one of disgust to the reporter and he blurts out "It's not any of your business but that would never happen, now I'm sure they would appreciate if you stopped spreading lies." Walking off before they can interrogate him further.
¸.☆.¸ He has a small section in his office dedicated to you. He has almost every piece of your merch, whether its shirts, flags, stickers, or some type of food, he has it. They sit on a large table no ones allowed to touch besides him and maybe his friends. On his desk he keeps photos of you and him on dates, his favorite one is the photo he took of you passed out after a rough day- drooling all over your pillow.
¸.☆.¸ You know Midoriya loves you when he Gets down on one knee a blushing mess, struggling to ask that one awaited question. His eyes are burning and briming with tears that are threatening to spill. His hands shaking as the velvet box laid open in his palm, exposing the shiny bright ring inside, covered by the fabric of a soft pillow beneath it. "Will-" he stutters as he looks into your eyes, the same way he's always looked at them, "Will you marry me?" And of course, you say yes.
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OK! first full write even though its in head-canon style! please send in any requests or asks for me to write, i have a full list of what fandoms i write for.
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cherriesformatt · 3 months
Text
first fathers day || matt sturniolo
mattxfem!reader
summary: Matt’s first Father’s Day!
warnings: fluff
word count: 1.2k
a/n: had to do one for Father’s Day since I did Mother’s Day 🤭
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🍒
I tired to sneak out of bed so Matt won't wake up. I muted his app on his phone to monitor Noa so she won't wake him up when she will be up. We were back home in LA and it was my turn to make this day special for Matt as he did my mother's day. I made Chris drop off flowers for me this morning and I ordered stuff to make his favorite breakfast. It was all at our doors now. I had like an hour before our daughter will be up so I needed to star cooking. I took groceries and flowers in. I started making fresh french toasts. I cut up fruits and put maple syrup in cute little jar to put it on a tray. I did the bread and put it on the plate and decorated it with some powdered sugar. I got glass of orange juice and put a gift for him next to the plate of food and flowers. I got him new vivienne westwood chain and a ring with Noa’s name on the inside.
I looked at my app to check on Noa and she started to be wiggly in her crib so I knew she was going to be up.
I took the tray up and put it on the bookshelf next to our doors and went in to get Noa.
„Good morning sunshine” I smiled big at her and she smiled too and let go of her pacifier and strated babbling happily.
„Are you going to wake up daddy with kisses? Should we go wake him up? we need to put your cheesy outfit on first” I said and opened her curtains and turned off noise machine.
I took her out and give her kisses on the cheek.
„Oh I know you’re hungry too” I said when she tied to get under my shirt.
„First we need to get ready baby” I said and put her down on the changing table on top of her dresser.
I change her diaper and put on a cute pink „daddy’s princess” outfit on her.
„Oh he’s going to love it” I laughed looking at her and put a little bow on her hair.
„I can’t believe you’re almost one Noa…” I said picking her up again.
„Let’s go to wake up dad with breakfast and than you will get your breakfast”
I walked out to our doors and looked at Matt in bed. He was still sleeping in the same position I left him.
Noa squealed when she saw her dad and wiggled in my arms.
I put her on Matt and laughed when he automatically put arms around her. She sat on his chest and out both of her hands on his face.
I walked back to get the tray and put it on Matt’s nightstand.
„Good morning…” I said sitting next to him.
„Morning….”He smiled finally opening his eyes.
„What a wake up….” He said and sat leaning his back on the bed frame. He kissed Noa’s head.
„Aw honey look at your outfit you’re so cute….” He said and I swear he has tears in his eyes. He is such a softie for her.
„Happy Fathers Day!” I said looking at him and kissed his cheek.
„We made breakfast for you…” I smiled and he looked on the tray.
„Oh… that’s so cute thank you baby” he said.
I took Noa from him so he could eat and said on my side of the bed cross-legged and started feeding her.
„It’s so good… I love when you make homemade French Toast” he said.
I smiled and fixed his hair from his forehand.
„Anything for you… especially today” I said and he smiled and held a fork for me to have some of the toast.
„Have some why didn’t you make a plate for yourself?” He said.
„I don’t know I actually forgot I figured I’ll be feeling Noa anyway”I said.
„and what’s that? You didn’t have to get me anything” he said and opened the gift.
„Oh those are beautiful y/n… thank you” he looked at me and put the ring on and put the gray away and leaned in to give me a kiss.
I kissed him back and Noa slapped his cheek and I laughed.
“Dada you forgot that we have a jealous one in this house” I laughed and Matt did too.
“I love you baby just as much as I do your mama” he kissed her little feet.
We ate together what I made for Matt and talked in bed. Then he went to get ready for the day and we switched so I could get ready.
“Okay… so me and Noa are taking you on a little road trip” I said I already had our bags packed in the car for two days trip.
“What? Where?” He asked.
“I’m not telling you… you will now when we drive anyway” I said.
“ and I invited Nick and Chris to come… they wanted to spend that day with you too” I smiled.
“Okay sounds great I’ll have all my babies” he laughed.
When we were all ready and in the car we picked up Nick and Chris.
“So we have a gift for you….” Chris said looking at Matt.
I looked at him curious because I didn’t know what was it.
“So we know… you have your cool dad car but we thought we update your cool even more” Chris laughed and press a button to the garage doors to open.
“No fucking way….” Matt said looking.
“Did you just got Matt an fing corvette?” I said shocked.
Matt looked at the car and his brothers and smiled.
“Wow… that’s I wouldn’t even think to get that myself but I did mention this car once I can’t believe you guys” he said and hugged them both.
We talked about a little and looked at the cat but than went back in to our car to drive.
Me, Chris and Nick though it’s going to be fun to take Matt and Noa to San Diego Safari Park. Matt loved this place so much and he always wanted to take Noa there so I thought it’s a perfect trip for Father’s Day.
I was so right because seeing Matt showing Noa everything and he was so happy. Nick took so many pictures of us all and me and Chris just ate all the snacks everywhere.
“Look it’s us baby!” Matt said excitedly to Noa showing her a pair of giraffes with a baby giraffe.
“And you’re stupid uncles too” he laughed at two other giraffes fighting.
I think I have a baby fever again because seeing him like that makes me feel things.
We stayed in the glamping area of the park and when we were sitting by the fire when Noa was already sleeping matt took me to seat in his legs.
“ I love you so much this day was perfect… I can’t imagine it better” he kissed my cheek.
“Matt… you deserve everything you’re the best daddy for Noa.. and just the best person in the whole world” I said and hugged him.
“And I can’t fucking believe you got me a whole ass sport car…. Is a car seat gonna fit there?”Matt looked at his brothers and we all laughed.
“What?”he asked looking at as.
“Dude… you’re such a dad” Chris laughed and I just rested my head on his shoulder and smiled.
My everything.
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eternalsams · 2 months
Text
Never Again ↝ Tyler Owens
pairing: Tyler Owens x gn!reader
content/warning: bit of fluff, pet names, mention of sex (but no description whatsoever), mockery, swearing, slight angst
summary: When Tyler is invited on a talk show about his notoriety on YouTube, he doesn't expect that kind of meeting.
words count: 1.6k
notes: english isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. NOT PROOF READ
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You just came home from the groceries, your arms loaded with full bags and balancing yourself not to drop the keys when Tyler almost jumped on you. "Babe, I'm gonna be on TV!" He exclaimed, holding his phone and showing you the email he received. You blinked at him and didn't answer immediately, trying to process his words. "You what?" You then asked. He slipped his phone in the back pocket of his jeans and grabbed the two bags you were carrying, helping you get everything inside. "They somehow found my email and asked me if I wanted to be interviewed on live TV. National TV, babe!" He laughed and his phone started ringing. He pulled it out and his smile widened. "It's Boone. Don't worry about the groceries, I'll store everything myself, beautiful." He answered the phone and went to your shared room to call his best friend. You could hear his excited voice as him and Boone started getting each other going about the whole thing.
You grabbed Tyler's laptop and opened his mails, reading the last one he received. He was right, it was a big thing. The Tornado Wranglers would get a lot of new visibility with that interview. You were excited for Tyler, he loved being on camera, that was for sure. But he also loved meeting people who were interested in what he was doing. With that interview, he had the chance of showing the whole country how fascinating weather could truly be. You were disrupted in your reading by Tyler's scream in the bedroom, quickly followed by a loud laugh. You chuckled at how excited he was and closed the laptop before starting to put away the groceries. Tyler quickly joined you after his numerous phone calls and gently scolded you when he noticed you started storing the groceries while he said he'd do it himself.
"Did you answer yet?" You asked him after the euphoria of the moment passed. "No, not yet." He chuckled as he grabbed a piece of bread to eat it. "I wanted to tell you and the guys first. But especially you. What do you think?" He then asked, looking into your eyes. "I think it's amazing, Tyler. You're so passionate about what you do and you know so much. You'll be able to show people how interesting the weather can be. Maybe some kids are gonna go study meteorology because of you." You smiled at him as you grabbed his hand in yours. Your boyfriend smiled at you and brought your hand to his lips to place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. "It's gonna be amazing." He practically day-dreamed. You laughed and bent over the table to gently kiss his lips, your hand taking place on his cheek.
Two weeks later, you were standing behind Tyler as a girl brushed some mattifying powder on his face. He didn't tell you but you knew his heart was beating fast and hard in his chest, both from excitement and anxiety. He was so scared to make a fool of himself, to fumble over his words and look like he was a fraud. When the makeup artist finished her job, someone opened the door and announced you had 5 minutes left before Tyler was called on-stage. "You ready?" You asked, smoothing his flannel shirt. "Why is my heart beating so fast? I drive through tornado for a living, I shouldn't be scared of this." He sighed, carefully rubbing his eyes not to ruin the makeup artist's work. "Don't worry, it's just the nerves. You'll be great." You ran your fingers in his hair, styling it the way you loved it and he kept it everyday. "I'm just a bit upset Boone and the others weren't invited. We're a team, they should be there too." He closed his eyes and tried to focus on your fingers against his scalp.
The door opened one last time and a man called for Tyler. You kissed his cheek and wished him good luck before you watched him leave with the man to get everything checked for the mic. A woman came to lead you in another room where the program was on TV. You thanked her and grabbed a glass of water before taking a seat on the sofa. A few minutes later, Tyler was called on-stage and you saw him on the TV. He was smiling like a kid on Christmas morning as he shook the host's hand and took a seat in front of the man. A wide smile took place on your lips as you watched the man you love glow with pride on cameras.
"Tyler, I'm so glad you could join us tonight. You have quite a reputation on the internet!" The host started when the applause stopped in the audience. "The pleasure is mutual, thank you very much for the invite. It's an honor to be here." Tyler said, looking around at the audience. "For anyone who doesn't know Tyler, he posts videos on YouTube of himself and his staff driving through tornados in Oklahoma and Arkansas. You must be some crazy fella to do this willingly!" The man said, making the audience laugh and Tyler chuckled. "It's a good summary, yes. But we're professionals, we are equipped to do so and we only drive through EF1s or small EF2s." Tyler reminded with a smile. "EF1, EF2, what's that?" You knew the host wasn't stupid enough to not know what that meant, but you were grateful that Tyler could explain it, the passion on his face was pure gold. "It's a scale we give tornados. But what's really interesting is that we don't scale a tornado according to its size or its speed. We give them their scale according to their damages." Tyler explained. "So how do you know you're driving through an EF1 and not an EF5?" The host asked. "I studied meteorology so I can identify whether it's gonna turn bad or not and if I catch a single sign it's gonna turn violent, we just leave and find shelter." He explained with simple words.
"So you studied meteorology, got a degree, and still shoot fireworks up tornados for YouTube?" The man laughed and you could see something break inside Tyler's eyes. He played it off and chuckled. "Well, yes. I love that job, I'm having fun with my best friends and entertaining people. That's the dream." He laughed and looked around, starting to notice some unpleasant looks in the audience. "And have you ever tried doing anything else in that car when the tornado is hitting you? I don't know, read a book, play scrabble or even have sex." New laughter were heard in the audience as the host laughed at his own joke. A dry smile stretched Tyler's lips as he slowly nodded, thinking about how to answer this. He couldn't just leave, he wanted to be the more mature on this stage. Before he could even say anything, the host looked back at him with a smile. "Your partner is part of your team, right? Maybe if you asked, you could get a lot of views." He joked, making Tyler's blood boil in his veins. "That won't be YouTube anymore, that's more like reality show. That's not what we do." Some laughter were heard in the audience but he knew better.
"Alright, alright... But be honest for a minute, you have a million followers on YouTube, your whole staff-" The host started to say. "We're a team. I'm not the boss, I'm only the driver." Tyler corrected and you could feel he started to lose his patience. "Your team is very active on social media, you must've had some weird requests." The host then asked, faking a smile for the television. Tyler knew what he was trying to do, he wanted him to admit he'd been asked for a sextape through a tornado. And even though he received that peculiar request once or twice, nobody needed to know. You and him would never record that kind of video to post on the internet. "Someone once asked us to eat a pizza. And we all ended up having tomato sauce all over our faces." Tyler answered with a chuckle, now counting down the minutes before the end of the show. You watched as Tyler started to tap his foot in annoyance and you almost prayed for the host to stop his disrespectful questions.
The show regained a more respectful rhythm and when Tyler was dismissed, he immediately joined you in the backroom. "Let's go." He only said, grabbing your bag before taking your hand in his and walking, if not running, to the exit. He didn't say anything more until you were both in the car. He didn't start the engine, only staring at the steering wheel. "Tyler?" You gently put your hand on his arm but he violently hit the wheel with his hand. "Fuck! I really thought... I'm so stupid for thinking they'd be willing to listen to me." He rubbed his face and fought the tears away. Shame, embarrassement and anger were swirling inside him. "It's not your fault, Tyler. They were real bastards in there, you didn't deserve this." You tried to calm him down. You leaned over and placed a kiss on his shoulder, feeling him breathe deeply and relax. "Come on, let's go back to the hotel and tomorrow we'll have our flight home. You can tell Boone New York was shit and he'll tell you 'I told you so' before offering you a beer." You chuckled softly as you gently stroked his arm. Tyler nodded and started the rental before driving to your hotel. At least the show runners had the decency to pay for everything.
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taglist:
@iliketopgun @callsigns-haze @toxiqueamour @choppedgalaxynerd @luvrofdilfsandmilfs @y-nk-live @books4ever03 @hookslove1592 @ipowell-tyler @floydsglasses @blue-aconite @28cnn @iscience02
@senawashere @melidot @cevansbaby-dove @katiemcrae @twisterschaser @starsrfun @lovemmay @lyn-js @lynnestra44 @classyunknownlover @imaginesofdreams @horseslovers2016
@og-baby-ob14 @attastarkey @sehnsuchts-trunken @tngrace @rockandrollbuckarooo @natzp03 @havaneselover08 @callsignrambam @trustingmina @obsessed-fan-alert @siriuslysirius05
@goodoldfashionedunderdog @xsoultruthx @hotsauceeater @mae-murdock @kadygirl @zombiedixon89 @kamperzz @lokisvariant @nixlikestix8 @another-tblr-fangirl @wpdarlingpan @puttyly
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madschiavelique · 1 year
Text
𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
summary : miguel didn't like very much the way you left him all horny for you in the toilets during the unexpected mission, so once the anomalies have all been maintained, he decides to teach you proper manners
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, lots of tension, soft!dom miguel, quick boob job, cunnilingus, "it's too big", pnv sex, miguel teaches reader magic words, so much kissing i swear, no use of Y/N, biting, mention of scars (from fights, miguel's) - let me know if i forgot any !! word count : 7,7k
note : i'm sorry i took SO LONG writing this baby, but here it is (and not yet proofread but i couldn't wait hehehe). the end is corny i AM SORRY but it was already long and this is to keep a pretty open. thank u all so much for ur support !! we passed the 400 subscribers today and i'm literally jumping to the ceiling of happiness. this is the last part of the 4shot, i hope you liked it <33 i was super inspired by Shameless by The Weeknd (one of my favourite songs hehehe). enough of me talking, love u guys !!
the previous parts : 1 - love bite 2 - late night training 3 - unexpected mission
tag list : @marit332 @coralineyouareinterribledanger @sunnyx07 @mamamiriamxo @l3laze @amy180801 @gojos-goth-gf @readingfan @cheezit-luv3rr @scaleniusrm @cowboyharrryy
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Miguel hadn't followed you, so you decided to lure the creature back by calling out to it:
"You're really terrible at hide-and-seek, you know that?”
Suddenly, it turned towards you and charged at you as you leapt into the air to keep it at bay, at least long enough for Miguel to finish... what he had to do. The sound of his breathless voice replayed in your head, the heat in your cheeks rising. You propelled yourself silently up to a floor above, observing the behaviour of the dough.
The feel of his fangs on the skin of your neck, his tender kisses on your cheeks, the hard feel of his erection against your thigh as his claws pressed into the skin of it...
"Oh my god you're going to be the end of him!" exclaimed a small voice beside you.
The anomaly turned towards it at the same time as you: Lyla.
"Lyla?" you choked out, swivelling your head just in time to avoid the anomaly that had climbed extraordinarily nimbly to your floor.
"His pulse quickened, his body heat increased and his muscles contracted amazingly hard!" she chirped as you mimed shutting up or lowering her voice, but she wasn't listening and you started darting from floor to floor as she continued "You've got him completely wrapped around your finger! No pun intended."
"Please Lyla, keep it down!" you begged her, feeling like a huge red tomato as you blushed and above all hoping not to be chased away by this abomination.
"Oopsie," she smiled, placing a hand over her mouth.
The anomaly swung a ball of paste at you, and you narrowly avoided it as it crashed and exploded with power, splattering you as it went, a large drop smearing across your suit.
"I didn't know you had access to... all this," you muttered breathlessly as you ran down a corridor to get away from the unspeakable thing. "It doesn't matter... Yes, it does matter actually, how come?"
"Don't be angry, you've just given me what little fun I'm allowed to have," she said with a pout, "you know, programme life isn't always fun."
Out of breath, you let out a sigh that relaxed your shoulders with its depth. You shook your head for a moment.
"Well, we'll talk about it later, can you identify this for me?" you asked breathlessly, silently, as you spooned some of the substance and held it up to a small metal support on your watch, which lit up when you dropped a little on it.
"My pleasure, sugar," she said with a quick clap. "Hmm, that looks like a basic bread dough mixture to me. Flour, water, salt, yeast, not forgetting the anomaly gene, otherwise it wouldn't be any fun."
"It's true that I'm bursting with laughter," you say, putting both hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath. You looked at her for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek, hesitating before asking, "Is Miguel... Done?"
"Yep, he's on his way," she said, giving you an amused wink, and you couldn't help but let a little laugh slip from your nose.
"Right," you said, clearing your throat so the anomaly could hear, "I'm going to lure this thing towards the exit!" You could hear the oily, slimy sounds coming in your direction, turning to Lyla one last time to ask: "Make sure you send Miguel my location, okay?" you said as you started to trot off.
"Already done!" she replied, blowing you a kiss which she pressed onto her hand before disappearing in a cloud of pixels.
You ran on, stammering aloud to keep the beast at your heels: " Come this way! You know, I think you'd really like rock, I've got two friends who play really well, I think you'd love to meet them!"
The pile rumbled behind you. You leapt into the air, grabbing the glass dome and hanging upside down, standing with your arms crossed over your chest.
"No, really, I think you'd like it. Oh well! You've got a head that could listen to metal, plus you've got exactly the right mouth shape to sing it, you know."
It was rumbling from the ground, right underneath you.
Then, just above you, you felt a tap on the thin glass roof, and when you looked up, you saw Miguel. It was a funny sight, the way you were standing made it look like you were reflecting yourselves in a mirror.
"Oh, hi there," you smiled behind your mask, taking on a slight intonation as if you hadn't been the cause of his delay. "Did everything go well?"
He let out a desperate sigh, the red glasses on his suit narrowing, before simply saying:
"Something unexpected came up, it was very... frustrating. But I'll wait."
I'll wait. The very word made you gulp.
"Observations?" he asked, jerking his chin in the direction of the anomaly just below you.
"It's dough, we'd just have to find something to bake it with," you suggested.
Outside there was a loud bang: the lorry Gwen and Hobie had been chasing had started to roll over, and the anomaly, just as alert as you and Miguel, leapt towards the first bay window to get out.
Gwen and Hobie seemed to have managed to deal with their anomaly, the truck was completely dented, sideways, and luckily for you, the oil from the truck was starting to spread on the ground. You got out, Miguel following to examine the situation. All it needed was a spark...
"I'll try to coat it with a bit of oil, find a lighter, a box of matches, whatever," he warned, before dashing off towards the pile of dough.
You looked around, and there, as luck would have it, was a convenience store. You leapt towards it. Managing to light a lighter with your costume on would be complicated, so you managed to find a box of matches, rushing towards the street again.
Miguel kept jumping up and down to coat the anomaly, and when he finally saw you coming, he shouted: "Light it up.
So you grabbed a match, struck it against the side of the box and threw it into the oil. You stepped aside and ran further to avoid taking any damage from the fire. It immediately licked at the anomaly, which let out horrible, high-pitched screams as the paste on its body cooked and smoked, turning golden and thinning little by little.
And so, you launched the multidimensional cell that had been given to you, and finally imprisoned the anomaly.
"I think 'the more the merrier' is a phrase I like less and less," said Gwen as you catalogued the anomalies.
"Are you kidding me? This was so much fun," said Peter. "It was like doing MMA!"
"Speak for yourself, we took care of the Magic Bus driver," Hobie huffed.
"I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud of our muffin," you agreed.
"You have to admit it smelled good," confirmed Pavitr.
Everything had gone well, Gwen had finished her exam period and you were all filling in your reports. Everything was going well, and everyone was pretty relaxed, except maybe you.
It was a pretty nasty trick you played on Miguel, leaving him like that, so close to the climax, and then leaving. And somewhere in there, you feared and waited impatiently for what was to come.
You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. He seemed to be concentrating, but sometimes you could feel his gaze on you, insistent. You found him incredibly calm, and maybe it was just because he hid it well, but just to see him lose a little of that control, you managed to brush past him for a moment when no one was looking, your knuckles deliberately brushing his thigh before joining the others. Pretending to be interested in their conversation, you couldn't help but glance over at Miguel.
Death stare was probably the closest you could come to defining the look he was giving you at that moment, and a shiver of dread ran down your spine as you swallowed. He seemed to chew the inside of his cheek for a moment, trying to act as if nothing had happened.
You weren't going to get out of this alive, or entirely.
"Well, I don't know about you, but the lack of sleep knocked me out, so I'm going to bed, see you later!" said Gwen before leaving.
"Same here, see ya," said Hobie.
And successively, the only ones left were Peter, Miguel and you.
He waited patiently, with you beside him, until Peter had finished his report and, like all the others before him, had gone to sleep. The seconds seemed to stretch out painfully, every movement and possibility accentuated by the wait. Miguel seemed tense, and you had no idea whether Peter could feel it from his side too, but you could feel your skin tingling with anticipation.
Every moment, every second tickled your mind and body like tiny needles, Miguel's gaze resting insistently on yours.
"Well, that's not all, but I think we've all got better things to do than hang around making a report," Peter yawned. "Good night, sleep well."
Oh, it won't be sleep.
He then waved goodbye one last time, turning his back to you as he headed for the exit. Miguel turned to look at you, taking a deep breath as he tilted his head back to look at you from an even higher angle.
The footsteps echoed around the room, fading away little by little as Miguel's eyes turned red, yours watching them and stifling a gasp. He took a single step closer, no more, but it was enough to intimidate you and for you to take a step backwards.
It was when the door finally closed behind Peter that he grabbed you powerfully around the waist and pinned you down on one of the desks, causing you to squeal in surprise as you widened your eyes for a moment, blinking frantically. In less time than it took to say 'empanada' Miguel had you completely under control, immobilising you faster than poison and more powerfully than a pair of handcuffs.
His nose wrinkled slightly.
"Did you enjoy your little act?" he asked, his tone extraordinarily calm, which made him all the more menacing. "Leaving me like that without finishing what you'd started?"
Your heart was racing, and suddenly just meeting his gaze seemed too powerful to maintain eye contact, so you turned your head to the side. Was it simply because you were embarrassed by your own little prank, or was it just that the intensity of his eyes on yours was too much? But Miguel wasn't going to have it any other way, so with one of his hands he grabbed your jaw and redirected it so that you were facing him.
"It's very rude not to look into someone's eyes when they're talking to you, you know that," he whispered, moving a little closer. "We're going to have to correct that, and teach you polite forms of address."
And you couldn't argue with that, because right now it wasn't a choice you had to make.
"Speaking of politeness, I realise that you haven't used any magic words so far for our little encounters," he said, his thumb pressing and digging into the skin of your cheek.
He moved a little closer, tilting his head to one side as you felt his nose brush against yours, moving a little closer still to feel his lips brush against yours, the simple touch of them sending little electric currents of excitement through you...
But nothing, he just grazed his lips against yours, not moving any further, but not backing away either. Your breaths collided softly, his eyes still fixed on yours with insistence.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice composed and contained, as you tried to free yourself a little from the hold his hand had on your jaw, to no avail.
His lips, so close to yours and yet so far away, gave you electrifying sensations, but you wanted more. You wanted the two of you to kiss, for your lips to become one again, for you to be able to offer him the body's 'I love you'.
So you tried to move a little closer, meeting his lips to satisfy your desire, no, your need. But he pulled back slightly, causing you to sigh in disappointment. No, you'd have to tell him.
"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice small but audible, as if you were pouring your desire into his plump lips.
A smile, the stretch of his lips pulling them a little further away from yours.
"Where," the question sounding more like a command.
His thumb eased a little in its pressure and caressed the skin of your cheek for a moment before sliding across your chin, settling just below your bottom lip.
"There," you replied, your desperation for more contact growing stronger by the second as the only thought on your mind was his kisses.
You wanted to taste that rainy, woody flavour on his lips again, and feel them assault your body with kisses.
"Only there?" he questioned, provoking your cravings even more as your impatience was felt almost painfully.
It didn't seem fair, he seemed to possess incredible composure and cold-blood as your veins pulsed through your body like lava flowing from the volcano of your heart.
The little game Miguel was playing with you almost felt like a little revenge. Could you blame him? He wanted all this as much as you did, but he liked balance, he liked things to be even, and he was making you pay for the advance you'd dared to take from him.
His thumb pressed against your plump lip, his skin barely brushing against it, and it felt like a thread sticking out with no way of pulling on it.
"Yes- No!" you moaned, feeling like a child who was denied a sweet treat, unable to hide your longing for more as his touch confused you, "everywhere."
His lips were parted, as close as ever, his warm breath spilling over yours. His thumb had moved up the curve of your lips to press against the volume of her, his eyes fixed on it.
"I didn't hear that properly," he said, his eyes returning to yours.
Their carmine colour reflected your face: eyebrows slanted back, eyes almost watery, his thumb resting on your lips as he continued to caress it mathematically to elicit a reaction from you.
You tried to squirm away for a moment, but Miguel's hand on your waist held you in place with incredible ease.
He raised an eyebrow, obviously your attempt was in vain, he hadn't started hand-to-hand training the day before like you had, he'd been an ace at physical power and combat for much longer, so of course he could immobilise you in less than no time and much less delicately if the mood took him.
His lips brushed yours a little closer, and you could almost feel them completely. But this tiny glimpse of heaven wasn't granted to you, and you whimpered for a moment before finally just saying:
"Kiss me," you whined, "please."
His eyes crinkled with his smile.
"Mira que buena."
He finally kissed you, and it was like you had taken cotton candy in your mouth and as it melted you could feel all the little crystals of sugar that were hidden by the fluffiness of the sweet, a moan of relief vibrating from your lips against his lips.
Millions of tiny sparkles crackled under your skin, rising to the surface like champagne bubbles as Miguel cupped your face and kissed you. He took your lips as if you were holding the air that allowed him to breathe, his hand going round your side to slip under your back, pressing against your pelvis to bring it close to his.
He bit your lower lip lightly before pulling away, his half-closed eyes looking into yours again. His hand came to caress your cheekbone gently, with a tenderness that was almost unlike anything he had ever offered you before.
"Tell me more about these desires you mentioned.”
Your breath caught slightly, and you suddenly felt your face heat up fiercely, as if you were leaning over the hearth of a fireplace, its fire licking your face and your being from afar. You swallowed, formulating out loud your desires, all those thoughts you'd had about him even after your meeting at the Conditioning Centre and what had happened in the cabin, seemed difficult.
"Come on, don't be scared," he murmured before leaning over to kiss your forehead gently, offering you soft, sweet words to help you get the burning out of your soul.
All those thoughts you'd had, those warm nights during that week when you'd imagined the feel of his fingers, his lips, the sweet words that interested you as he searched inside you to expose you to him emotionally, all of them could be said, especially the one that was vibrating immensely inside you at the moment.
"I want... I want you to..."
You had the impression that the words you were about to say would be like throwing a tiny stone into still water, like stepping on ice and feeling it crack, like throwing alcohol into the fireplace that was warming you up.
The hand that was resting on your cheek ran down your neck, brushing your chest as it slid to your hip and slid all the way down to your thigh, stopping in its descent at that very spot, his hand gripping it.
"Hmm?" he asked, his humming vibrating against the skin of your cheek and tickling you.
You bit the inside of your lip, your teeth pressing into your flesh and trapping some of the wet skin against your bottom teeth. You released this clutch with a gasp as your voice dropped to a whisper when you whispered :
"I want you to fuck me."
His eyes crinkled as he smiled, an eyebrow raised, his proud grin stretching across his cheek as his lip parted wide enough to reveal his fangs. He came to kiss your cheek, his soft lips caressing it as his lashes offered you butterfly kisses.
His grip on your thigh softened, his thumb making circular movements against your covered skin as a warm cloud began to form in your lower belly.
"Say that again," he said, his breath landing on your neck as his thumb began to move slightly up your inner thigh.
You tilted your head back, closing your eyes as the simple sensation of his fingers on your body caressed you sublimely, a sigh of ease slipping from your lips. Miguel then took the opportunity to kiss the corner of your jaw, laying a trail of kisses that mixed sweetness and hunger, kissing and biting your skin. He lowered his lips a little further down your neck and kissed you lazily, the coolness of his lips meeting the fire burning at the back of your head. His lips reached a sensitive corner, causing you to let out a moan.
You moistened your lips, your cheeks burning as Miguel's fingers traced the sensitive skin of your thigh and his other hand rested on the small of your back, close to the cloud of heat.
And he expected you, with all these delicious distractions, to be able to string a sentence together properly and clearly. So you tried to speak louder, swallowing before saying:
"I want you to fuck me."
His lips came away from your neck, just brushing your ear before coming back to face you. The red of his eyes was deep, hungry, but above all attentive to your every move, which made him even more intimidating. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel them moving close to your skin as he spoke.
"There must be something with my hear because I can't hear properly what you said," he said, his tone a little less contained than he had managed to convey before, less composed, "say it louder."
His fingers continued their trajectory, very close to you, to where your desires came from, the knot in your lower abdomen tightening even though he never reached the spot. So this was the intense despair he'd felt earlier? The pain of his desire overcoming his thought and logic in the simple hope that he would be touched to turn the pain into sweetness?
You tried to move your hips a little, in the simple hope that he might go further, touch you, but he steadied you in an instant with his hand on your back, making you let out a little cry of longing.
You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze meeting his for a moment, and you saw it in the reflection of his eyes: the breadth of your desire spreading through your whole body.
You breathed in, gathering your strength and thoughts to say, "I want you to-"
His hand went up your back to the nape of your neck and traced up and down your spine, your body undulating uncontrollably as you concluded with a strangled sigh:
"Fuck me, please."
His carmine eyes watched you through his long black lashes, a proud sneer stretching his lips, your request seemed to have pleased him greatly.
If you had something to ask him, you might as well ask him politely. He tilted his head to one side, the light illuminating his jaw over his massive shoulder, it was so sharp it could have cut glass. Did he have any idea of the hold he had over you?
"Muy bien, bien hecho, muñeca," he murmured before kissing you again, gently.
His kiss was demanding, hungry, eager for your lips to be captured by his. Your hands, until now too afraid to touch anything or attempt any gesture, were tempted by the need to touch him in turn. They came to rest on his face, cupping it as he devoured your mouth relentlessly, his kiss a mixture of thirst, craving and the occasional sensation of his canines scratching your skin.
His thumb had moved up to your groin, deliberately avoiding and brushing very close to the part you'd been dreaming of him touching. Both his hands were now on your hips, gripping them to draw them to his.
And the electrifying sensation of his erection meeting in a single touch the excitement of your cunt that had grown inside you caused you both to moan together.
Your hand snaked through his hair, his sighs of comfort rushing into the depths of your body, blowing on the already burning fire inside you making it blaze and shine. His pelvis had begun to undulate against yours, the friction he was exerting against your covered flesh, against your throbbing clit, sending sparks throughout your body.
"Coño," he let out between kisses, one of his hands gripping your hip a little tighter to pull you closer to him and hold you in place while the other moved up your body like ivy on a statue, pressing against the back of your neck so that you were even closer. He wanted to eliminate any space between you, and you wanted it just as much, arching your body to his touch.
The kiss went from gentle to passionate, from passionate to hungry, and from hungry to needing more. Your tongues exchanged a waltz, and the next moment Miguel was back at your neck as your hand rested on his hip.
You needed more closeness, more of everything, but less clothing. He pulled you in again, straightening you up so that you ended up sitting on the desk, both your mouths still dancing.
He placed both hands firmly under your thighs, ready to lift you up.
"Hang on," he whispered between two kisses.
Without missing a beat you wrapped your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as he lifted you with incredible ease, heading for a door at the back of the room: Miguel's quarters.
To avoid being bothered by anything during his precious, absent sleep, Miguel didn't belong to any of the dormitories, sleeping in secluded quarters. One of his hands came up to grip one of your buttocks, grasping it with his full hand and kneading it, a little hum of pleasure vibrating from your lips against his as you nibbled on it. You kissed his cheek, tracing his jaw with your wet skin.
As he depixelised his hand from his suit and placed it on the digital recognition pad, you gently kissed his neck, a rumble rising in his throat, a mixture of threat and plea for patience. But how could you still be patient? It was impossible, you were each other's tinder box and lighter.
As soon as the airlock opened, he came to kiss you dangerously, not tiring for a moment of the sensation of your lips caught between his. He walked quickly and eagerly, his erratic breathing colliding with your warm skin.
You rounded a corner, and the familiar sensation of a mattress under your back met you almost brutally. You were out of breath, lying back, looking at Miguel.
He stood there, looking down at you. His hair was dishevelled from the passage of your hands, his eyes shining like two rubies in the half-light, watching you hungrily. He towered over you, dominating you with his size and power. You shuddered, because at the moment he looked like a predator facing the prey he was about to devour.
He chuckled, moving closer as he put one knee on the mattress, one of his hands coming to rest beside your head, leaning gently over you, crawling up to spread your thighs as his face came level with yours.
And it was with the sensitivity that only lips possess that he whispered to you:
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," his mouth hungrily came to reclaim yours, his other hand sliding up your waist to reach your hip and hold it in place as he consumed you.
You were in his grip, entranced, trapped in the web of desire he had woven in your mind, every thread of which you touched bringing the spider back to its prey.
His hand came up to your head and nestled under the nape of your neck, looking for the zip to take off your suit. You helped him, pressing a little harder against his lips in your kisses as you raised your head to help him pull it off.
He found it, and you could feel with what composure he was pulling it. You knew perfectly well that if it had only been up to him, your suit would have been ripped to shreds and it would have been impossible to reassemble it properly and put it back together in one piece. But he was holding back, with difficulty.
The sensation of all those little metal teeth coming loose against your back and letting your abundantly heated skin breathe sent tingles through each of your ribs and down your spine, your back arching all the more at the sensation. Maybe having absolutely nothing under your costume could be complicated in certain situations, but it had never been as practical or as pleasant as it was right now. And Miguel seemed to agree.
His hand came to pull at the fabric, exposing your shoulder, and feeling his fingers run over it made you shiver. He continued to pull gently, your chest meeting the cool air until your breasts were bare.
He broke away from your lips for a moment, watching your skin like a flame and its enchanted dance. And you were burning, your whole body aflame with his touch, his kisses, his eyes. You couldn't undress him on your side, his costume knew no beginning or end other than pixels, and you found that profoundly unfair.
Then, very gently, his hand came to hover over your skin. It barely grazed, not even touching it, passing over the roundness of your shoulder, following your collarbone up to your cheek. He placed his hand on it, and it was as if your body was a diamond, every facet of which was illuminated by the light from his hand.
"Tan linda," he whispered, nestling back into the crook of your neck, kissing the warm, tender skin there. His kisses trailed down to your collarbone, sucking on your skin from time to time to reveal violet and pink flowers.
You hummed with delight under his touch, your body lighting up and glowing a little more with every touch of his lips against your skin. They came to rest between the valley of your breasts, his red eyes meeting yours as, while one of his hands pulled a little harder on the part of your suit that was still in place, his own suit began to depixel as he straightened up to face you.
Lips parted, you watched his body reveal itself, his tanned torso sculpted like a god. But above all, you couldn't help letting your eyes wander along the countless scars that marked his body.
Various shapes were mixed in, cuts, burns, strange, sinuous lines, all marking the traces of past dangers. And he had survived them all.
Gently, your hand came to rest on his cheek, pressing against your touch and kissing your palm as you let your fingers move down his torso. You let your fingertips trace a scar, caressing it gently, Miguel's breath shuddering against your skin for a moment.
Your breath caught in your throat as his bare hand grazed the skin of one of your tits, his thumb gently tracing the bouncing skin. His lips moved down the ridge of your breasts, kissing the soft, tender skin of it.
He looked into your eyes as he stuck out his tongue and ran it over your nipple slowly, the warmth of his saliva and the roughness of his muscle sending all sorts of little stars into your body.
It was as if your flesh was bare soil, and with his hands he brought forth flowers of many colours and intoxicating scents that enchanted you, making you drunk with his touch and the colours he painted under your skin.
His tongue traced the separation between your skin and your nipple, his hand resting on the other, pressing it gently between his large fingers. Then he kissed it gently, sucking lightly as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. And as the moans multiplied between your lips, he stopped, a smile stretching his lips as his hand dripped down your waist and clutched the rest of your costume.
As he pulled it off, in a slow motion, he kissed his way down your belly, letting buds of caress blossom on your body. Reaching below your navel, he exchanged a glance with you, seeking approval.
As a simple response, you raised your hips, and he gently pulled the rest of the costume down, his bare fingers brushing your buttocks and thighs as he pulled until you were covered by nothing but your panties.
One of his hands grabbed your thigh, the other settled on your waist, lazily tracing your skin until it reached your groin, stopping there, drawing indescribable patterns as the fire in your lower belly heated up.
He stayed there, eyes riveted on yours, his other hand moving slightly up your inner thighs but not reaching your core either. The tingles it sent through your being were delicious, but you were getting impatient. Your pussy was almost starting to ache from the lack of touch and contact.
"Lower..." you murmured, your desires taking possession of your body, your reason silenced.
He tilted his head to one side, and the same words you'd said to him earlier in the bathroom came back to you:
"Say that again."
A grunt of frustration rattled against your teeth. Your own cards had just been used against you in your own game, and you had no say in the matter. His fingers continued to draw as if nothing had happened, sometimes reaching for half a second a little lower than where they were staying. You needed more.
"Touch me lower," you said, looking into his red eyes, which raised an eyebrow as if to say 'aren't you forgetting something?', so you punctuated your sentence with a little "please."
He smiled, dark, his tongue passing over his canine and his lip as he ran his fingers between your skin and the elastic of your panties, pulling the latter so that only the air, his hands and his warm breath covered you.
His fingers returned to your now naked groin, and he gently traced your skin, finally coming to touch your cunt, a sigh of respite taking hold of your chest as he gently passed a single finger between your lips.
"Hmm?" he hummed, raising his fingers to the height of his head, observing the sticky substance that glued to his skin, "would you look at that." Evidence of your arousal was placed before your eyes, "Am I the reason you're so wet ?"
Your head tucked into your shoulders, your cheeks heating intensely as he smiled wider.
"Tengo suerte," he murmured as his finger returned to your entrance, coating itself in more of your wetness as his thumb settled on your clit, making slow, hypnotic circular movements that tightened the knot in your lower abdomen.
Your hands clutched the sheets as you drew in a shaky breath, but he reached down and guided one of them to his hair, which you grabbed without hesitation.
"Like it when I touch you there?" he asked, echoing the words you had said to him in the cabin.
"Mhm," you agreed, unable to formulate a coherent sentence, inhaling more air as he pushed in his first finger.
His hands were big, his fingers thick, and he manipulated them all to perfection. His finger was streching you out, undulating to awaken exceptional sensations in you.
"How does that feel?" he asked, his tone composed and almost teasing in the way he asked you things.
"Good," you assented as he inserted a second finger, causing you to gasp out a moan, your eyelids closing of their own accord.
His fingers worked you out, curving up to touch the spot that made you see stars.
"Keeps your eyes on me," he whispered as his head lowered against your cunt, his hot breath falling against your damp skin, "I want you to see me."
With difficulty you complied, and he brought his tongue against your pussy, a moan of pleasure rising from your throat. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking your clit made your whole body burn.
Your hand gripped his hair more firmly, needing something to anchor it so that you didn't succumb entirely to all your vices. Miguel groaned at this gesture, and the sensation of his vibrant voice on your sensitive skin almost made you come in an instant.
Your pelvis moved of its own accord, and Miguel immediately grabbed it to immobilise you, his fingers and tongue working together to make you moan even more.
The sight reminded you immensely of the bullet incident: his eyes reddened, his tongue and lips resting on you while your fingers were knotted in his hair.
You were beginning to feel as if you were flying away, but it was at that precise moment that Miguel stopped, pulling his fingers out and his mouth away. You whimpered, a whiney complaint filling your mouth as you laid your head back in disappointment on the pillow, Miguel moving up to your face.
"I just wanted to make sure you'd know what it feels like."
The torment was unbearable, and you bit your lips for fear that, on the instant, you might send an insult into his face.
"Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow, "did I make you mad?"
His tone seemed almost condescending, addressing you as if you were a child. He brought his face close to yours, his eyes falling on your lips.
"Want me to fuck you, querida?" he questioned, his lips brushing yours "want me to fill you up with my cock?"
You looked up at him through your eyelashes, simply nodding in response as his simple words managed to make your hair stand on end.
"Use your words," he said simply.
"Yes," you said, beginning to learn from his lessons, trying to find more strength in your voice, "fuck me, please."
He nodded, proud.
"Good," he said, bringing his two fingers, still covered with yourself, close to your lips, "open up."
Timidly, you parted your lips.
"Wider," he ordered in a calm voice.
You obeyed, and soon felt his moist fingers on your tongue. You licked them, his eyes watching with great interest. They were thick and having them both in your mouth wasn't easy, but by relaxing your jaw you eventually managed to suck them off properly, your eyes returning to his, feverish with desire.
Without further ado, he removed his fingers from your mouth and came to kiss your lips, hungry. The entre-met you had offered him wasn't enough, and he was fasting from it to be able to taste all the other parts of you that were still untouched by his lips.
His naked erection pressed against your cunt, and your hips undulated against the sensation as you let out an excited moan against his lips, your walls closing in on nothing.
You wrapped your arms around his neck as he splayed his hand across your lower back, undoing the kiss to press his forehead against yours. He adjusted his cock in front of your entrance, coating himself in your juices, and just by that gesture and the memory of your hands, you knew it would be too much.
"Miguel it's," you breathed softly against him, "it's too big. I'll never-" but he cut you off.
"I'm sure you can take it, muñeca," he murmured softly, kissing your cheek.
He returned to kiss your lips, then asked before doing anything else:
"Ready?"
You inhaled softly, your eyes plunging into the red of his, before murmuring against his lips:
"Ready."
He nodded, coming to kiss you chastely before lining up his cock and thrusting in. A moan slipped from your lips, he was big, way too big.
"Shh," he soothed, kissing your temple, "you're tense cariño, breathe through your nose."
So you followed his instructions, trying to relax as much as possible as your nails on his back began to dig into his flesh. Your breath was coming in shaky gasps, your teeth sinking into your lip as Miguel whispered:
"You're doing so well," his hands gently caressing your arched back and thigh.
His voice relaxed you, your breathing a little more settled as he thrust deeper, stretching you out. He kissed your forehead tenderly, brushing the tiny tear from the corner of your eye with his lips.
"Just like that," he groaned, finally managing to fill you completely, "look at you taking me so well.
He kissed your lips gently, caressing the skin of your side. He kissed your cheek, then the side of your neck, sucking in one more mark.
Full, that's how you felt. He stretched you out fully, filling every inch of your being, meeting the warm cloud as he kissed you to contrast the sensation. And soon enough, you relaxed a little more.
"Are you ready for me to move?" he murmured, his thumb resting on your cheek.
As a simple response, breathing softly, you moved your hips on him. He smiled, kissing your lips softly as he pulled back slightly to push into you again, a shaky breath mingling with a moan that he swallowed from your lips.
His tongue came to meet yours, curling around it, sucking it between his lips tenderly as he took a slow rhythm to get you used to him.
He sprinkled kisses across your face, sloppy ones running over your warm naked skin, inevitably coming back to your neck, nibbling lightly. He traced your collarbone with his lips, running along it until he reached your shoulder, where the rounded skin was bitten and a moan was torn from your lips.
His hand came to take your arm, kissing the skin gently as he raised it, straightening slightly to manipulate and kiss it better.
His lips came to linger on the inner skin of your arms, depositing his lips gently as he traced that softened area, his pelvis taking on a slightly faster rhythm.
After the little treatment he'd given you, you weren't going to last long, so you let yourself be carried and touched by his adoring lips.
His tongue traced the skin on the inside of your wrist, his teeth grazing the separation between your hand and it. He came to kiss your palm, then delicately placed his lips on each of your knuckles before pressing it against his cheek.
Your thumb caressed it, and he surrendered to your touch. He then guided it to the side of your head, his fingers nestling in the crack of yours until your hands were intertwined.
"Qué guapa," he breathed.
His rhythm quickened, and you could feel the knot in your belly gradually tightening as Miguel's thrusting in and out of you became sublime, and the sounds you were making multiplied as he hit all the right spots.
Your fingers tightened on Miguel's hand as your other reached down his back to grip his arm, squeezing hard as you felt you were going to come.
"Miguel," you sobbed as he returned to kiss your lips, "I'm close."
It was a miracle you managed to get those few words right. The hand that wasn't intertwined with yours came to cup your face before moving down your body to grab your hip, a deep sigh escaping from his throat.
And you felt his canine gently bite your lip as the knot burst in your lower belly and a moan echoed in your throat. It was like a bolt of lightning striking against metal, spreading out in a powerful electric shock in your entire body as the pleasure beat like a second heart. Miguel's voice growled against your skin as you closed around him spasmodically, your nails clawing at his arm.
You twitched, Miguel kissing your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your lips. You were slowly coming down from your clouds, the sensations you had gradually fading.
"Tan buena..." he whispered, close to your lips, "but I'm not done with you yet.”
His fingers loosened from yours as he grabbed your arms with both hands to pull you against him and straighten you up. He was sitting, still inside you, making you sit on top of him, facing him.
One of his hands grabbed one of your buttocks, guiding you to move back and forth on him, while his other was on your back, caressing it.
He came to attack your lips again, the sound of your two bodies meeting clapping in the air as you felt completely disorientated by the pleasure. The speed with which he entered you was exceptional, and the sensations he triggered were even more so.
His lips moved over the back of your neck, then settled on your shoulder, his breathing becoming more and more jerky.
You tilted your head back, your voice interspersed with the feeling of him pounding you, the heat in your belly not entirely gone and tightening again.
Then the hand that had been resting on your back slipped between your two bodies and caressed your clit, your breath catching as you felt the cloud spread once more to the small of your back.
Miguel's voice grew less hushed as his rhythm quickened, his fingers working your clit with speed as you felt the climax building up again.
And all at once, you felt his fangs penetrate your beloved as he gave a powerful thrust, and you both came. The earth stopped spinning as you felt like you'd been sent miles above the clouds, both your bodies warm against each other, both of you breathless.
Everything seemed soft, floating, an inner peace had taken hold of both of you as you came down from this peak of pleasure.
He held you against him gently, running his tongue over the two slits he'd made in your skin. He pulled out of you, placing you so gently and carefully on the mattress that it was as if he had a spider's web in his hands.
You snuggled up to him, and he pulled the blanket over you as he kissed you again.
You felt safe here, cuddled in his huge arms that wrapped around you, his hands caressing your body with pure adoration and softness.
You kissed his chest, on one of his scars, and he breathed a profound sigh.
"How did you know?" he whispered.
The end of his question never came, but it was simple: how did you know I wanted to be kissed here? Probably no one had ever touched him this way, here, like that.
"There's nothing like tenderness to soothe the scars." you smiled.
He breathed out, his eyes had returned to their natural brown. He pressed you a little closer to him, his eyes locked in yours. Blue words are the ones you say with your eyes, when your lips are too tired.
"Maybe we'll have to find a name for this pseudo-friendship?" he smiled, the little chat you'd had on the first mission coming back to you as you smiled and kissed him sweetly.
"Why when we already have two letters?" you replied, placing your hand on his cheek, kissing your palm as his hand caressed your waist.
"Two letters?" he asked, curious.
"Yeah," you confirmed, your voice becoming a whisper, "us."
He gave you a candid, sincere smile before kissing your lips softly.
"Yes," he nodded, "we could make a great us, muñeca."
Us, two letters, a whole world.
2K notes · View notes
girliemattitude · 8 months
Text
—- Chocolate -— M.S -—
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A/N: NO Mommy and Daddy kink; Not my thing sorry!! A/N (2): This is my work please don’t steal it:)
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Me and Matt decided to have a lazy day today, his brothers were out so we decided to stay in and have some alone time.
Right now I’m cooking eggs and bacon for breakfast and Matt is melting chocolate on the microwave so we can dip strawberries in it later.
“I think is completely melted”, Matt say’s smiling while he stirs the chocolate with a little spoon and licks his index finger.
“Awesome, let’s go back to your room and have breakfast in bed”, I say putting the cooked eggs on two pieces of toasted bread.
“I can’t believe we ate all of that”, Matt says rubbing his tummy like a little kid
“There’s still chocolate left”, I say holding the cup with chocolate and licking the spoon clean.
“Do you want some?”
“I think I’m good, thanks”
“Well we can’t wasted” I say playfully putting the spoon near Matt’s face doing airplane sounds obviously joking, he just laughs, but the laughter stops when I let the chocolate fall on the side of his mouth and chin.
“Babe”, he says with a stern tone but an amuse face.
“Don’t worry, I’ll cleaned it up”, I say laughing
I know he expects me to clean the chocolate off with a napkin but I have other plans.
I kneeled on the bed next to him and a lower myself so we could be face to face, I turned his head a little to the side and a slowly licked the chocolate off his chin and then moved upwards to the side of his mouth, finishing up with a lingering peck on the corner of his mouth. I pulled away and I see my boyfriend with eyes closed and lips parted, his breath agitated and I swear I could stare at him for eternity.
He opens his eyes and instantly locks them with mine, I give him a little smile and I got off the bed.
I go to one of his drawers and I feel him staring at me from the back.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for somee- hmm found itt!!”, I say turning around and slowly hiding the item from him behind my back.
“What do you have there?” “You have a mischievous look on that pretty face of yours”, Matt says curiously.
I smiled biting my lip while a reveal the blindfold to him.
“Oh, you wanna use those?”, he says suddenly a thousand times more interested in the conversation.
“Yes, but I don’t want them for me”, I say with a shy tone,
I’m not usually the one who’s in charge when we have sex, of course I can be a little more demeaning at times and switch roles, get on top and all but when it comes to someone being tied up or blindfolded It’s always me. We are pretty new at this though, we only started to experiment on this area a few months ago when Matt brought it up, but today I don’t know I guess I feel a little more bold and down to try something new.
“Okay, where do you want me?”
“Wait, seriously?”, I say a little shocked but excited.
“Yes, of course. Whatever you want”, he says smiling at me.
“Hmm okay, sit on the edge of the bed and take your shirt off”, I say not sure of what the fuck I’m doing.
He obeyed and do I say told, I stand between his legs and I kissed him before I put the blindfold on his eyes.
I stare at him for a second and proceed to trail wet kisses on his collarbones and all over his neck until I found his sweet spot just below his ear, his head goes backwards so I could have a better access and I feel both of his hands on each side of my hips caressing them, his breath is getting heavy and I nibble his ear causing a low growl to leave his lips.
I pulled away to grab the cup with chocolate and the last strawberry, I dipped the fruit on the candy and I feed it to Matt, he takes it all in one bite and then licks my finger clean.
I grab a big amount of chocolate with the spoon and I let it dropped on Matt’s neck and collarbone all the way down to his left shoulder, I do the same on the other side and I licked it off sensually, there’s soft moans leaving his lips bout the time I’m done.
Now that he seems clean enough again, I pushed him on the bed and I straddle him. I passed my finger up and down his abdomen, stoping on his waist band and then I pour more chocolate, this time on his chest, nipples, and a long line on his happy trail.
I put my hair up on a pony tail and I begin to clean him up with my tongue, I tortured him by going extremely slow and I leave sweet kisses and love marks all over him, I take extra time on his nipples and I bite them carefully , I continue to lick his happy trail going up and down a couple of times in a straight line getting rid of all the chocolate.
“Y/n, please”, Matt sighs, I could feel his hard on between my legs and I can’t help but to rock my hips a little, I let out a low moan under my breath but I remind myself that I want this to last a little longer so I stop.
I take his pajama pants and underwear off, his hard dick immediately slapping his stomach and I can’t help but to bite my lower lip.
I grab his tip without warning and I feel him squirm, I keep teasing him making circles on his red tip with my fingers, spreading his precum all over it, I spit on my right hand and I stroke him a few times, then I lower my face and I lick him from top to bottom just so I could start to sucked him off properly.
Matt breathes are irregular and I keep going, a mixed of saliva and precum falling down my mouth.
“Omg, I’m not gonna last long” , Matt says, his hands going to my hair to help me bop my head up and down in a rapid rhythm.
“Cum for me”, I somehow manage to say.
Matt’s body tenses up and I feel his dick twitch as a warm liquid filled my mouth, I swallow and then I wiped my mouth with my hand, I kiss his lips and he takes the blindfold of.
“God, I love you”, he says admiring my face.
“I love you too, you goof”, I say smiling and wiping a piece of hair of his face.
“I guess is my turn now, right??” , he says half joking and half serious.
“There’s no Chocolate left but there’s ice on the kitchen”, he says raising his eyebrows.
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607 notes · View notes
slaybestieslay946 · 7 months
Note
HIIIII OMG IM THE ONE WHO REQUESTED THE READER JOINS LUKE AND I JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT WAS SO GOOD I LOVE IT SOSO MUCH THANK YOUUU
if it's not much can i request something else? like a 5+1 thing where it's like 5 times luke and reader didn't realize they were acting like a couple, and one time reaized it and made it official!
THIS IS SUCH A CUTE REQ SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG IVE BEEN SOOO BUSY AND I RLLY WANTED TO GET THIS ONE PERFECT.
I sorta changed it a bit so Luke is down bad and reader is the one who doesn't realise they were acting like a couple.
You Didn't Realise?!
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MASTERLIST
summary: 5 ways Luke acts like your boyfriend, and the one reason you realised and made it official
word count: 2800
pairing: luke castellan x apollo!reader
warnings: minor swearing
I : He always looks for you first
When Luke returned from his quest, bloodied and battered, stumbling down half blood hill with a scar down his face, you were the first one he looked for. 
He quickly spotted you, your hair shining in the sun. The sun always found you, like a magnetic tether, a trait inherited from your father. 
In some ways, Luke could relate. He too also felt constantly drawn to you, and as soon as he caught sight of your face, all the humiliation from failing his quest melted away. 
You were laughing with one of your half-siblings, playfully joking like you always did. And then your sibling nudged you, pointing up at Luke, and the smile dropped. Even in his dazed state, he noticed the way your face contorted in worry as you began to sprint up the hill towards him. 
He wanted to wipe the sad expression away and replace it with the bright smile you usually sported. 
You continued towards him, only slowing from your sprint when you were just metres away, coming to a stop directly in front of him. 
Immediately, you took his face in your hands, inspecting the slight cuts and bruises that covered it. 
“Not even gonna say hello?” He panted, suddenly out of breath, partly from his general exhaustion, and partly from the way you were holding his face. 
“Hello Luke. Now tell me where it hurts.” You asked, moving your hands away from his face and running them down his sides, carefully watching his reaction to the pressure. 
“Nothing hurts. I’m all good, Doc.” He chuckled to mask his wince as you skimmed over the patchwork of bruises. 
“Like hell you are. We’re getting you to the infirmary. Where are Beckendorf and Rodriguez?” You asked, wrapping a hand around his shoulder to help him down the hill. 
“Just comin’.” Luke said, jerking his head back in the direction he had just come from, and when you looked back for yourself, you could see the other two boys at the top of the hill, looking in significantly better shape than he did. 
“Alright. C’mon then, we gotta get you patched up.” 
“Yes, ma’am.” He answered, the same dazed smile 
“You’ll be the death of me one day, y’know that?” 
“Mhm.” 
And as the rest of the camp looked on at the pair of you, they couldn’t help but wonder, when would you finally get together?
II : He always saves you dessert
Luke watched as you walked into the dining pavilion late, and as usual there was a patched up camper trailing behind you. 
You turned to give the boy a stern talking to, more than likely chastising him for being injured in the first place, before striding up to collect your food. 
Of course, when you turned up 20 minutes late to dinner, the dessert options became severely limited, and by the time you arrived there was no cake left, only a few pots of yoghurt made from the strawberries in the field. 
Luke watched as you screwed your nose up in disgust. You hated yoghurt, he knew that (obviously). 
You sighed, cutting your losses and retreating to the apollo table, a few end slices of bread and salad items being the only things on your plate. 
“Hey man, how’d you get an extra portion?” Chris asked from beside Luke, and he snapped his gaze away from you and back to his brother. 
“Oh, yeah, it’s for Y/N.” 
Chris rolled his eyes, “Of course it is. You gonna give it to her, or are you just gonna sit here staring?” 
“Shut up.” 
“Y’know I’m right.” 
“You’ll be right when you admit you love staring at Clarisse in capture the flag.” Luke replied quickly, standing up to walk over to you. 
Chris mumbled something slightly incoherent, but Luke didn’t pay him any mind as he strode towards the Apollo table, plate in hand. 
“Hey. Long day?” He asked, smirking at you while holding the plate behind his back so you couldn’t see it. 
“Ugh, you have no idea Castellan. And I missed dessert again! Can you believe that?” You complained loudly, waving your crust of bread around like you were conducting an orchestra.
“Hmm, sounds rough. Lucky for you, someone saved you an extra portion.” He dramatically produced the plate from behind his back, revealing the extra large slice of cake he’d stolen from one of the nymphs. 
You gasped in delight as he placed it before you, “Thank you!” 
Luke couldn’t help but grin as well as you tore into it with glee, “Well, I know vanilla's your favourite, couldn’t have you missing out, could we?”
You sighed, “You’re the best.” 
“I know,” He preened before softening his voice slightly, “Just don’t overwork yourself, ‘kay?” 
“Alright. That goes for you too, hero.” You bargained, gazing at him intensely.
“Whatever you say, Doc.” He smirked, before turning around and leaving you to it. 
You continued eating your slice of cake, unable to fight away the bright grin that invaded your face. 
“You two are disgusting.” Will Solace remarked, the similar smile on his face not matching the tone of his words. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“You- He- Ugh! You’re so hopeless!” 
III : He always calls you up for demonstrations
“Hmm, I need someone to demonstrate…” He pondered out loud, surveying the archery range for someone suitable. And, as usual, Luke’s eyes were magnetically drawn to you as you walked past his group of students. 
“And who better than my favourite daughter of Apollo! Hey, Y/N, c'mere a sec!” 
You spun around to work out who was calling you over, rolling your eyes fondly as you realised it was the son of Hermes, as usual. 
“What do you need now, Castellan?” You asked, striding over to the group. 
“Just a quick demonstration from the best archer in camp.” 
You sighed yet again, but gave in, just like you always did when he was involved. 
“Fine.” 
“Great! Now, kids, let's see how a professional does it.” 
Luke then led the group around so they were parallel to you, and they could inspect your form as you fired. 
You held up your bow, removing an arrow from the quiver slung around your shoulder and notching it into position all in one fluid movement.
“See, look how good her form is. Perfect posture. One foot forward, torso turned to the side,” Luke whispered, as if narrating a nature documentary for national geographic, “She pulls the string back to her cheek, breathes in, and releases!” He cried, and you did just that, sending the arrow flying into the centre of the target. 
“A perfect shot.” Luke declared, smiling at you in pride. 
You shrugged, “I never miss.” 
“Alright kids, have a go yourselves, see if you can replicate Y/N’s form!” He said, sending them all rushing forwards to collect bows and have a go for themselves on the archery range. 
“You need any more help? Or am I free to go?” You asked teasingly, placing the bow and quiver back in the right spot.
“Hm, I suppose you're done. Although, your posture could use a little work.”
“Oh, I thought it was perfect?” 
“Did I say that?” He mused, although he was unable to hide the amusement in his eyes. 
“Bye Castellan.” You sang, flicking his shoulder as you walked past him. 
He turned around to watch you walk away, a tinge of blush coating his cheeks. 
“Is she your girlfriend?” A small voice piped up from beside him, and he turned to see that one of the kids he was teaching hadn’t yet begun archery. 
“No!” He said, all too quickly, before ushering the girl towards the bows. 
VI : He’s always watching you work
“Ok, so, you’re going to need to keep an eye on that cut alright? And try not to get any mud in it this time, we don’t want it getting infected again, do we?”
The kid you were currently treating nodded vigorously, probably thinking that the more engaged he seemed the faster he would escape the infirmary. 
“Alright, you can go back to training now.” You sighed, silently praying that the young Ares boy would at least try and be gentle on the lines of stitching in his arm, although you didn’t have much hope. 
He thanked you quickly, before running off out of the room, grabbing his sword and nearly slashing through a bright-eyed Luke Castellan on his way. 
“Oh, god. What have you done now?” You asked, hands on your hips. 
He held his hands up in surrender, “Nothing, nothing. I’m all good. Just had some free time and thought I’d come see my favourite Apollo kid.”
“You know you’re allowed in here unless you're injured or visiting someone, right?” You reminded gently, hiding your bright smile behind an exasperated expression. 
“Actually, I’m both of those things.” 
“Really?”
“Yep. I’m visiting you, and my heart is awfully wounded by how cruelly you treat me.” He smirked, and you rolled your eyes, walking back to the drawer you had been organising before the arrival of your most boisterous patient. 
“Does that mean I can stay?” He asked, following you with swift strides. 
“I can’t exactly stop you, can I?”
He chuckled quietly, giving you shoulder a quick squeeze before looking down at the drawer full of bandages you were sorting through. 
“D’you want some help?”
You shrugged noncommittally and he immediately knelt down beside you and began rolling several bandages up and sorting them into their proper sections, humming happily under his breath the whole time. 
And that’s how the pair of you continued for the rest of the afternoon. If you needed something of a high shelf, Luke was reaching up to grab it for you. If you wanted a specific item or tool, he was already beside you, holding it out as if he had read your mind. 
And the only reward he wanted for his hard work was to see your face melt into a smile when the pair of you locked eyes. And of course the lollipop you offered him at the end of the day for being so helpful. 
V: He always saves you a seat a campfire
Luke was well aware that, as an Apollo kid, you loved the campfire. Despite the fact that you weren’t as musically talented as your siblings, it always brought a smile to your face to see them perform. He loved watching as you clapped along in earnest, cheering loudly when the song finished and loudly demanding another. 
So, he always saved you a seat (right beside him, of course). 
But, on this particular night, he’d caught wind of the fact some Demeter boy had been sniffing around, saying that he was going to ask you to sit next to him, instead of Luke. 
“Aw, is Lukey boy getting jealous?” Chris jeered, following Luke’s gaze as it landed on you, conversing with the boy from Demeter. 
“No. Not like she’ll sit with him anyway.” He proclaimed, his voice filled with a certainty he did not feel. 
“You sure?” Chris asked, watching as you laughed brightly at whatever joke the boy was making. 
“Oh, I’m so sure. Certain, even. So certain.” Luke said, drumming his fingers on the wood of the table, while trying to reassure himself. 
This evening, you got to the campfire before him, and as he began to walk towards where you were sitting, he caught a glimpse of that boy making a beeline to you from the other direction. 
He quickened his pace, only slowing slightly to revel in the way your face broke into sunshine when you caught sight of him. 
Unfortunately, that momentary lapse in concentration was nearly his undoing, as only mere moments later, your attention was arrested by the boy from Demeter who appeared to have magically materialised right in front of you. 
He sped up until it felt like he was running, sliding into the seat next to you right as the Demeter boy made his move. 
“...do you mind if I sit-”
“Sorry man. Seat’s taken.” Luke smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 
“Oh, uh, sorry. Didn’t realise it was like that.” The boy looked between the two of you, the expression on his face torn between bitter and disappointed. He then made a quick exit, leaving you to try and digest the situation. 
“Sorry I’m late.” He smiled, not moving the hand from where it sat on your upper arm. 
“No problem,” You said, a look of bemusement on your face, “Gonna tell me what that was all about?”
“Um-”
“And why are you so out of breath? And-”
He was saved from further questioning by your siblings starting the first song of the night. 
I: He always worried about you
“How much longer are we gonna have to walk?” Luke whined, although it was pretty obvious he wasn’t really annoyed by the bright smile on his face. 
“Not that much farther!” You called back, practically skipping ahead as you neared the edge of the strawberry fields. 
“Good. I feel like my feet are gonna fall off. Y’know how to fix fallen-off-feet, Doc?”
“Are you doubting my skills, Castellan?” You gasped, spinning around to face him, your hands planted firmly on your hips. 
“Hmm, maybe?” He mused, smiling wider as you skipped back to him. 
“Well, don’t. Or I’ll hit you over the head with the picnic basket.” You responded, before linking your arm with his, and leading him to a small spot that was free of the strawberry plants. 
“Happy now?”
He sighed, placing the basket down gently before slumping to the floor, “Overjoyed.” 
He stayed like that for a minute, watching out of the corner of his eye as you spread the blanket across the dirt floor, smoothing it down gently and unpacking the various food items you had prepared. 
Luke cracked a small grin as he watched, marvelling in the way you glowed in the sun. Everyday he thought you couldn't get more beautiful, and everyday he was proven wrong. 
He sat up to tuck in to the picnic, admiring the way you rolled your eyes at him with fondness as you also moved to sit down. 
“Finally decided to- OW!” You exclaimed, cutting off your own statement as you cried out in pain. 
Luke was immediately by your side, asking what was wrong as you tentatively picked your hand up off the floor, shaking it side to side. 
“Holy shit that hurts.” You murmured, looking down at the thorn that had lodged itself into your hand. 
“You're gonna be ok, don’t worry, I’ll get it out for you.” He reassured, although he seemed much more worried than you. 
“Luke,” You laughed, “I’m all good. Camp’s best doctor, remember?” You reminded, before reaching into your palm and pulling the thorn out in one fell swoop. 
As soon as it was out, he was grabbing your palm, cradling it in his hand and inspecting the tiny wound carefully. 
“You're sure you’re ok? We can-” 
“I’m perfectly fine. Why are you so stressed about this?” You asked, confused. He had always been protective, but not usually to such an extreme. 
“Oh, uh, I dunno, just don’t want you to get hurt.” He muttered, still running his fingers along the palm of your hand. 
“So I can’t have a thorn in my hand, but you're allowed to wander into the infirmary with massive gashes up your side?”
He chuckled, his voice low, “Yeah. I guess that’s right.” 
“You’re impossible, Castellan.” You whispered, and when your eyes met once again, you felt a shift in the air. 
Suddenly all the events throughout your friendship made perfect sense, and it was like you had finally found the missing piece to a seemingly impossible puzzle. 
Luke had clearly seen the realisation in your eyes, as he raised his free hand to cup your cheek, your face warming slightly under his touch. 
"Please tell me I'm not reading too much into all of this." You sighed.
"You're not. I don't know how you didn't realise." Luke chuckled, "May I?" He asked, and you nodded, both of you moving forward to meet the other’s lips. 
And you couldn’t help but wonder, how you hadn’t realised sooner. 
716 notes · View notes
seiwas · 8 months
Text
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₊˚⊹。 i'll be good to you | nanami kento
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wc: 1.5k
summary: nanami’s half-hoping you call a fourth time.
contains: implied f!reader but no mention of pronouns, exes, mentions of alcohol, swears, reader wears makeup and heels, drunk calls, a bit angsty and a bit hurt/no comfort but it isn’t all that sad i think
a/n: this ran away from me again! but this is a brainchild from me and @augustinewrites, with song inspos: you were good to me, tequila, bourbon, and already gone
part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: calling your ex drunk at two a.m. with feelings still stuck in your throat
you are here -> part 2
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Nanami moves in numbers. 
It comes with his personality—practical and efficient, forward thinking. 
Predicting deals from 9-to-5 looks a lot different from dealing deaths by a ratio of 7:3, but the tactics remain the same, the stakes still high; every move is precise and calculated, analyzed to be accurate. 
So he’d known—the day he decided to pick up his blade again was the day he’d deal his final blow—at you, and the relationship you built together. 
A strategic takedown of something he deemed doomed from the start. 
That’s what he wants you to think, at least. 
When his phone rings three times—the first in the middle of lecturing Yuuji, the second while going overtime underground, and the third just moments ago, bleeding out on a bathroom counter, Nanami realizes that the probability of him ever speaking to you again, alive and breathing, is a number he can’t predict. 
So he waits, linen pants and a cotton shirt while sporting a drink by his kitchen counter. 
Strangely, he’s full of hope, half-good and half-bad—that you’ll call back; that you won’t. The line between the two blurs. 
It always has with you. 
A friendly face—that’s all you were supposed to be; his work neighbor a few cubicles down his. It started with polite nods, a few casual waves, maybe even small smiles on a good day. Your schedule was terrible, much like his—one of the first ones to arrive and the last ones to leave. 
Then, you finally moved past just a friendly hello; something about bread, he recalls, an attempt to exchange recipes on sourdough. It started then, with you leaving a cup of coffee on his desk and he saving an ‘extra’ sub for you. 
(Except, it’s never an ‘extra’ with Nanami; he’d never do anything miscalculated.) 
Suddenly, you’re the first face he looks for in the morning, and he’s the last person you check on before clocking out at night. 
For a while, he didn’t know what to call you—a coworker? Friend? Someone he has dinner with at 12 midnight? 
You set it straight after the seventh ‘date’. 
Now, when his phone rings the fourth time, he picks up.
You’re cursing on the line, the sound of metal clinking on tile muffled in the background. 
He waits for you to talk, half-hopeful and half-nervous at hearing you speak. 
You always used to drop your keys by his door—your haphazard way of looking for his amongst five of yours. 
“Shit,” you grumble, the lock finally clicking open. 
He hears your footsteps, the sound of your heels landing as if they’ve been hastily kicked off. 
A party, perhaps? Or a night out? 
There’s a funny feeling that sits in his stomach when he thinks about you coming home from a date, one he knows he no longer has a right to. 
It should be good, he thinks, you’re moving on.  
He stares at his glass, liquor blurring into ice—brown edges fading into something lighter, near transparent. For a moment, he wonders if this was a mistake, if you hadn’t meant to call him at all. He’s considering putting the phone down to save you the embarrassment. 
But—
“Finally,” you spit out, clumsy and a little too honest. 
To anyone else, you’d sound normal, but Nanami’s known you for years, has loved you for just as much, and this sounds a lot like the version of you that’s lost track of how many you’ve had to drink—the same one he’s had to tuck in bed, with your arms clinging onto his neck while dragging him under the covers with you. 
He takes a sip. 
“Was starting t’think you died or sum’in.” 
It’s impossible for you to know the truth, he’s made sure of that—it’s why he let you go in the first place. 
“Someone offered to buy me a drink t’night,” you mumble, wood scraping against your floorboards. The exhaustion in your voice is palpable. 
He has no idea why you’re telling him this. 
“I asked f’r bourbon,” you breathe, shaky, “on the rocks, because—” 
That’s what he always got, what he introduced to you when you asked him why he likes it so much. 2 ounces of bourbon for a ball of ice, with time as an aid, mellowing its intensity to flavors of smoky caramel, vanilla, and a touch of spice. 
He gives a lowly hum, swirling the drink in front of him. 
“Was it good?” 
(The drink, the date. The potential new guy.) 
There’s silence on the other end of the line, too long to be considered thoughtless. His watch counts the seconds. 
“Not as,” you finally answer. 
Another bout of silence. 
He wonders what you look like, if you’re wearing that lipstick you know is his favorite; if you still smell like the closest thing he’s ever had to a home. Do you still keep an extra handkerchief in your purse? That obnoxious cow print he now uses to remind him of the life he used to know? 
You sniffle. 
“You fucked me up, Kento.” 
He knows. 
“How c’n you say this… is what’s best f’me when it hurts this much?” you hiccup, a sob caught in your throat. 
When Nanami ended things with you, he gave himself 30 minutes. Any less, he would have regretted it, and any more, he would have taken it all back. 
“Y’re so unfair,” you breathe out shakier than the last, broken more than anything, “din’t ev’n ask me what I wanted.”
He knows.
And he supposes he deserves this, aching at the way you fall apart on the line.
He takes another sip, longer and fuller, dragging out his gulp. 
“I still love you,” you weep, voice unsteady, “and I f’cking hate you for that, y’know?” 
Your words burn more than the alcohol down his throat. 
His eyes start to sting, brown glossing over. There was a time when your ‘I love you’s’ gave him reason to wake up in the morning; when they got him through the day and lulled him to sleep at night. 
But this one, this time, he knows, will haunt him for the rest of his life. 
(He’s never wanted anything more than to say it back to you, right now.)  
“I apologize.” the words come out stiff, squeezed out as he puts down his glass. 
“I know,” you scoff, managing a chuckle while sniffling, “like that’ll do ‘nythin though.” 
Nanami clenches his jaw, fingers tightening around his drink. You always were the perfect bite to his snark, acknowledging things straight up, as is. 
And you always had a hunch of how things would end up. 
You know that this call is pointless, that he won’t take you back by the end of it. You also know that each and every one of his decisions comes from a series of calculated predictions, that once he makes up his mind, there’s no changing it. You know how Nanami works, that he moves in numbers. 
Except, you never know his reasons—that the truth of all this is that he’s sworn to himself that he’ll be good to you. There’s no point being with an empty man, and dragging you into the dangers of sorcery would be cruel, even more unfair to you. 
The line is quiet for a while, filled only with your attempts at steadying your breathing. 
“Did you drink enough water?” he asks, a little out of nowhere but completely in place. 
You snort, pushing back your chair, “Shouldn’t say things like that,” your footsteps are picked up by the mic, “makes it sound like y’care.” 
He hears you gulp a glass down on the line, lips curling into a sad smile. 
“D’me a favor?” you slur, followed by a yawn. 
He hums. 
“Stay on ‘til I fall’sleep?” 
And for once, he doesn’t think so hard about it. This small thing can’t possibly skew the damage he’s already caused you. 
“Okay.” 
A creak sounds from your end, the sofa you both used to spend your weekends on; it’s been thoroughly broken in, love seeping through each crevice and dip. It’s selfish, but he hopes you still feel him through it—giving you a safe place to rest, soft and tender in keeping you close when he can’t. 
You shuffle, pillows muffling the microphone as you move around; then you mumble, sleep-laden, “Don’t forget to turn the lights off.” 
It shouldn’t affect him this much, but the reminder calls back every instance you’ve ever said it to him: whispers over his shoulder, while dragging your feet away from his home office; a peck to the tip of his ear before nuzzling his neck while he reads; a shout from your bed, for him to hear within the echoes of the bathroom walls. 
You both have terrible sleep from odd hours at the office, but nightmares have always persisted with him more. Turning off the lights was a reassurance, a quiet ‘I love you’—a reminder that it was okay to fall asleep, you’d be there when he wakes. 
His eyes zero in on the light switch to his right, humming his response. 
.
The call runs for 31 minutes.
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a/n: other tidbits i wasn't able to include—reader is able to hold liquor well, and used to drink with nanami often but doesn't understand the appeal of his preferred drinks; reader is able to go head-to-head with nanami's personality but is also a lot more vibrant and loud; reader also doesn't know about the jujutsu world (in case it wasn't obvious). i also envision nanami becoming less himself towards the end of their relationship, which is also when he starts considering going back to sorcery.
thank you notes: big thank you to @augustinewrites for half-mothering this fic 🥺 what would i do without your sad ideas and songs to match!! and to @mysugu and @soumies for ofc!! listening to me talk abt this all the time lol
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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cyborg-franky · 3 months
Text
Prompt:
Hello!! Could I request some headcanons or whatever you want, where the reader is talking to one of the crew members or a friend about her crush and has a corny code name for him like ‘cutie pie’ and said cutie pie overhears and tries to figure out who the readers crush is and can’t figure it out so the reader keeps giving him clues but he doesn’t get it until it’s super obvious. Hope that makes sense. And thank you!!!
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GN Reader - SFW
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Ace
Ace first hears you talking about your crush when he’s rounding the corner, and see’s you talking to Marco who looks amused at the conversation topic.
“Just my little, Matchstick.” You sigh dreamily, having had a crush on Ace for what seemed like months.
He squinted as he stuffed his mouth at the dinner table when you talked to Izou this time about ‘Matchstick’ and what he’d apparently done that was so ‘wonderful’ and it was pissing him off.
Ace had no idea it was your nickname for him, everyone else knew and just watched as Ace stumbled around in jealous obliviousness.
Seemed you had to step up your game, whenever you knew he was in earshot you would test nicknames, more pointed than the last.
It wasn’t until ‘Flaming freckles’ did it click with him.
Others had been this close to grabbing Ace and shaking him, screaming in his face that you had a crush on him.
You both ended up skirting around one another for about a week before Pops burst the bubble and was basically like ‘now kish’
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Marco
At first you try a subtle name because you aren’t sure you want Marco to know about your all-consuming crush just yet and Marco is very astute.
You swear with each smirk on his lips and raise eyebrow whenever he is near you that he just knows.
You wanna play it cool at first. Only talking about him vaguely. Calling him ‘Pina Colada’ when mentioning him in conversation.
He hears you and Jozu walking past his office window, hearing you gush about how ‘cute’ this Pina Colada was and for a good week he has no idea.
This gives you time to decide you want the good doctor to know you want to give his face kisses and hold his hand.
You and Ace are sitting outside his window one day and Ace hands you a slice of pineapple from his stack of fruit he’d acquired from the kitchen.
“I love pineapple, reminds me of my cute bluebird.” You hum happily and Ace just grimaces “Oh gross, shut up.” He huffed, nudging you.
“Oh, is that so?” you both look up at the window, seeing Marco peering down over the edge, amusement on his face, half-lidded eyes focused on you.  “Maybe the ‘bluebird’ like you too, yoi.”
“Oh, gross.” Ace repeats and stuffs an apple in his mouth wishing he wasn’t there.
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Thatch
Every time you mention him in passing with others it’s always some bread-related pun or name which makes everyone side-eye you. You used all the puns you can, mentioned his ‘bread rolls’ and get Marco to snort coffee up and out his nose.
Thatch has no idea but can’t help feeling jealous at all the attention this person is getting from you.
It’s a little annoying and he feels his eyebrow twitch when you mention ‘My lovely baguette man’ and he’s very close to shaking Marco and Ace down for information, or rather lay at their feet and whine till either one of them gives in.
You thought he would have gotten it by now with how obvious and frankly obnoxious you are about the whole thing.
Marco and Ace just want the dance to be over.
One day you step into the kitchen with Ace, talking about this and that before you decide to make a very clear point “I really like his smile, his wonderful warm smile that’s as soft as the bread he’s baking.”
Ace drops his plate on the floor, a face that looks aghast at your bombshell subtly as Thatch whirls around, the biggest grin on his face.
“An’ I like yours darlin’!”
“Oh, thank fuuuck.” Ace groans as he collects the food off the floor.
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ugh-yoongi · 1 year
Note
Soft, romantic and drunk bf Yoongi waking you up by going down on you when he gets in late after a night of drink (with OT7/ after suchwita/ whatever) in which he could not stop thinking about you and your pussy.
I can even give inspo: tu mbl r.co m/poutyniall/714256286018142208/tongue-technology
yeah hey hi hello thanks for sending this. after only receiving PG requests this really sent me into a spiral.
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crescendo
pairing: yoongi x reader (no pronouns used, but gendered terms are used for genitalia) genre: established relationship au; smut, fluff warnings: alcohol, swearing, yoongi is tipsy and just a horny pining disaster, previously discussed and consenting somnophilia, oral sex, unedited. rating: explicit. minors do not interact. wordcount: 1k listen to: middle of the night by elley duhé
Amongst his group of friends, Yoongi is the only one who gets like this when he’s drunk.
Some people regress and act half their age (Seokjn). Some people are overly-affectionate and stumble over compliments (Jimin). Some people try to pick philosophical debates over the point at which bread ceases to be bread and becomes toast (Namjoon). Some people bypass the philosophical entirely and go straight to the conspiratorial (Taehyung). Some people take one sip and slump over in the booth, moaning that they’re half-dead (Hoseok). Finally, some people don’t even bother to show up, because they’re too busy staying home and playing Overwatch to check their texts (Jungkook).
Yoongi, though—Yoongi gets horny.
The kind of horny that has him looking away each time someone’s tongue darts out to catch a stray drop of alcohol. The kind of horny that has him doing complex mathematical equations in his head to determine if he could conceivably lock himself in a bathroom stall and get it out of his system before anyone becomes suspicious. The kind of horny that has him sending you half-legible text messages under the table, detailing every dirty thing he wants to do to you, despite the fact you told him hours ago you were going to shower and go to sleep.
Fuck. He needs to get out of here.
“Aw, look at Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin teases, and everyone except Hoseok creates a chorus of laughter. Yoongi’s cheeks burn, made worse by the garish yellow-red lights of this bar. “I can’t decide if I should be jealous or concerned.”
Namjoon scoffs. “Why would you be concerned, Jimin-ah? Sex is a normal, beautiful thing, and it’s absolute bullshit that people use it as a point of shame—”
“Yeah, okay, that’s my cue,” Seokjin says around a fake gag. “Who had the tab tonight? Just send me a request—”
“You had the tab, you fucker—”
Seokjin hears none of it. Just says, “Mm, bye,” and then he’s gone. Which is Yoongi’s cue too, because he’s the second-oldest and therefore second in command, and the rest of them won’t even hesitate to stick him with the bill because it happens every single time it’s Seokjin’s turn to pay.
So he lies. Says, “Hyung will pay it in a minute. Gotta piss first,” and stumbles out the back.
He’ll hear about it later, if not from his four dongsaengs then certainly his ancestors, but he needs to be home. Needs to feel you spread out beneath him—your sleep-warmed skin, still soft from your shower, the scent of your body wash stubbornly clinging on. Needs to press his lips to every inch of it. Needs the smell and taste of you overwhelming him. Needs to hear all those little sounds you make.
The longer this taxi ride drags on, the more paranoid he becomes. Can the driver tell how fucked up he is in his backseat? Can he see the way Yoongi’s fingers are gripping the worn leather? How desperately he’s trying to keep quiet every time something explicit plays in his memory? He’d understand, Yoongi thinks; he’d understand if he knew you, saw you. He wouldn’t be able to blame Yoongi at all.
Seoul passes by in a blur, all neon reds and blues and whites. Everything is still so alive, even at this god-forsaken hour, and it makes him dizzy. Has his head spinning. He’s drunk and he’s horny and he just wants to be next to you.
Somehow, he manages to dig his phone out of his pocket despite how tight they’ve grown over the last hour. Goes straight to his texts, pointedly ignores all the ones in the groupchat yelling at him and Seokjin, and presses on your name. He’s less drunk now than he was before, but the messages still don’t make sense. Yoongi groans, throws his head back against the seat. Next time he’s just going to skip the bullshit and send you pictures. No use speaking in tongues when hieroglyphics could work much better.
The next five minutes play out like this: the taxi stops outside your building, Yoongi hands over a stack of money that’s undoubtedly too thick, he stumbles up the steps two at a time, so close yet still too far away.
And then there’s the door.
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“This okay, baby?”
A nip of teeth at the junction of your thigh. Hands gripping at your waist, fingers dimpling your skin. Warm breath ghosting over your wet cunt. Yoongi’s head between your thighs as he kneels on the bed. You’re unsure if you’re conscious or not, but as you tangle your hands in Yoongi’s soft hair, you decide it doesn’t matter.
So you nod, angle your hips closer to Yoongi’s face. A whisper-soft gasp when he presses a kiss to your thigh, one to your clit; a strangled moan when you feel him smile against you before flattening his tongue and licking a stripe up your slit.
“Fuck,” he groans, doing it again, pulling away only long enough to say, “thought about this pussy all fucking night. You taste so good.”
Yoongi indulges in your body the way other people indulge in vices: incessantly, obsessively. But you aren’t a vice, are you? You’re not something to be ashamed of; not something wicked. As Yoongi continues working you over with his mouth, so sloppy and overeager you can feel it dampening the sheets beneath you, it feels like reverence.
It isn’t long before the heat starts simmering in your belly. Not long before everything starts feeling overwhelming; before your visions starts blurring at the edges. “Yoong, I’m—”
He hums against your core. Sucks hard once at your clit, and then you’re tumbling over the edge. “Goddamn, I love you,” Yoongi says into your skin. “That’s it, give it to me, baby, I love you.”
It feels predestined.
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laurfilijames · 2 months
Text
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Breathe
Part 7
Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader
Words: 6.9k
Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Trauma/PTSD/nightmares/insomnia. Unprotected intercourse.
Summary: Unanswered questions amp up every emotion that time does nothing to lessen, and so much uncertainty raises the concern if everything will turn out okay or if moving on is the only answer.
A/N: Less hurt than the last chapter, I promise! Thank you to everyone who was so enthusiastic and responsive to it and made all that angst worth writing!
Photo by @avatarskingdom and edited by me. Please do not use without permission or credit. Headers by the wonderful @spaghettificationandpretzels!
Chapter Playlist
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
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---
You felt numb as much as you felt angry, scared and heartbroken.
It was all still so surreal, having to remind yourself constantly that Will broke up with you and was gone, the persistent sick feeling in your stomach growing with every thought of his life being at risk and that even though he was no longer yours, you might never see him again.
You did everything you could to understand his side of things, but with that your frustration increased wildly, the fact that he hadn't even given you the chance to be there for him stinging almost as much as him abandoning what you knew, or thought, you had.
Did he really believe you wouldn’t support him, that you didn’t care enough about him to give him space and time while he dealt with all the things he needed to, that your love for him simply wasn’t enough for him to want to hold onto while he was deployed, that everything you thought you had been building was broken and false?
The toaster popped, shooting your slice of bread out, making you jump after forgetting you were even waiting for it.
You ate because you had to, but food tasted bleak and flavourless, and everything that landed in your stomach felt like it sat there and made your nausea even worse.
You had made a whole lasagna earlier just because, giving you something to do for the better part of an hour, but the thought of eating it was so unappealing and you had the idea that maybe you would drop it off for Benny. Taking a bite out of the plain piece of toast, you thought how awful it might feel to go over to the Miller’s house right now, and decided against it, opting to freeze the lasagna for another time instead.
Another bite and the toast was in the trash, and you stood in the middle of your kitchen unmoving, not sure what to do with yourself next.
You hadn’t slept, and whether it was fatigue or just your grief pummeling you, you broke down and sobbed, your body shaking as the memory of Will holding you in his arms in this very spot flooded you, dancing one night while in the middle of cleaning up dinner, pausing almost anything in favour of stealing a piece of each other.
Work was a welcomed distraction, forcing you to go through the motions and function like everything was normal, able to allow you to bury your emotions for the course of a shift and nearly forget about what had happened, only to have it all come back the moment you got in your car and started your drive home, knowing you had nothing to look forward to.
You hadn’t been back to the gym since the day you saw both brothers there all beat up from their brawl with each other, your body too exhausted and weak to even consider working out, but as you sat at your kitchen table with nothing else to do, you went and changed into your gym clothes and drove over.
It was busy enough, observing the evening crowd enough to keep you entertained as you walked on the Stair Master, each step automatic and absent-minded.
Through a few people and machines you spotted Benny, resting on a bench between sets of chest presses, his smile and slightly awkward wave making you feel equally so, and as he stood and started weaving his way over to you, you felt bad that he probably felt obligated to talk to you.
You stopped the machine and stepped down, grabbing your things in the assumption you would probably feel like leaving after this conversation, your water bottle shaking in your hand that trembled with nerves and adrenaline.
“Hey,” Benny said, somewhat hesitantly.
“Hey, Benny,” you answered, smoothing your hand over your sweaty hair.
“How’re you doing?”
You sighed, looking down at the floor as you shook your head. “Do you want the fake answer or the honest one?”
Benny huffed a laugh in understanding. “You look like shit.”
You laughed out of disbelief, bringing yourself to look at him as he scratched his head and tried to recover.
“I mean- fuck.”
“No, I look like shit. Feel like it too,” you confirmed, reassuring his observations.
“Are you looking after yourself?” he asked, his face full of concern.
You shrugged, “As much as I can, I guess.”
He nodded, sympathetic to your feelings. “Are you eating? Sleeping?”
“Here and there. Not much of both if I’m honest.”
“Yeah, I get it. Just do your best even though it’s hard.”
You hummed. “Does it get any easier?”
He tilted his head a bit. “Does what get easier?”
“The worry, the waiting…”
“Oh, uh…” he pulled his ball cap up off his head, smoothed his hair back and placed it back on again, this time backwards. “Yeah, I guess we all just get used to it in a way. But I’d be lying if I said that everyday you’re half expecting to get that phone call…”
He saw the tears in your eyes well to the surface, and unlike most times, Benny felt a bit speechless.
“I can’t stop thinking about him,” you admitted, your words not even directed at Benny, but rather said aloud simply because you couldn’t keep them in.
“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you went on, wiping your eyes and shaking your head like it would suddenly shake away your feelings. “I’m gonna get going, see you later.”
“Yeah, of course,” Benny responded, his voice soft. “Hey,” he called after you, making you pause and turn half-way to face him.
“Just don’t give up on him yet.”
You gave a weak smile. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”
You made it to your car before you really fell apart, the tears coming down your face so hot and fast you could barely see to unlock the door, and when you flopped down into the seat, you rested your head against the steering wheel and wept.
The most overwhelming sense of panic came over you, taking control over everything and trapping you in it, your mind racing with every horrible thought imaginable, and before you could realize, your breathing had turned short and gasping, your mouth desperately trying to suck in air between sobs.
Your hands wrapped around yourself, squeezing you tighter than the grip of the anxiety attack was, feeling your whole body shaking and trembling and all you wanted to do was scream.
That was when Will’s soothing voice popped in your head, urging you to focus on your breaths and count each one, the sound of the numbers in his even tone allowing you to stop the panic, and you began counting out loud until your breathing eventually leveled out.
How could the same person who was the reason you were feeling this way manage to help calm you, you thought, exhaling slowly as everything around you started to come into focus again.
You ran your hands over your face, your body still shaking with each inhalation though they had become more regular, knowing that as much as you were hurt and betrayed, you still loved Will more than you could imagine loving anything.
Benny’s phone rang not thirty seconds after he’d just hung up, Will’s number lighting up his screen suspiciously close to him ending his conversation with Tom.
He pressed the green button to answer it, and before he could even get out a ‘hey’, Will’s voice stopped him.
“Are you checking up on me?”
“Uhh-”
“I heard Redfly talking to you, idiot.”
Benny scratched his head, trying to gauge which way this was about to go.
“If you’re wondering how I am, just ask me, Ben.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes that’s easier said than done,” he quipped, recalling how many forced conversations they’d had lately where Will gave short, vague answers to everything.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
Benny sighed, lifting his arm up in exasperation before letting it fall and hit his side, “I dunno, man, I just thought I’d get a truthful answer out of Redfly over you. He’s with you every day and can tell how you are.”
He heard Will sigh, and Benny took the pause as a chance to give his brother the opportunity to tell him for himself.
“So, how are you, then?”
Will sighed heavily again. “I don’t fucking know anymore. Okay, I guess?” he said, his uncertainty clear.
“Tom said things are going well with the op, and despite it all you seem like you’ve got your head in the game.”
“Yeah, that’s all fine,” Will explained, like his role as a Captain on this tour was the least of his worries. “It’s everything else…”
“Yeah…” Benny agreed, holding space for Will to continue.
“How’s she doing? Have you seen her?”
“Saw her at the gym yesterday,” Benny said carefully, trying to decide if it would be better or worse to tell him she wasn’t doing well, but ultimately knowing if he wanted Will to be honest, he would have to be too. “She’s not doing good, man.”
Will was silent, making Benny pull the phone away from his ear to check if the call had dropped or not.
“I can’t believe I did this to her,” he said quietly.
“Yeah, well,” Benny said flatly, “What’s done is done, now you just have to focus on finishing this job and getting back home so you can fix it.”
“Do you think there will be anything left to fix?”
Benny blew the air out of his mouth slowly. “That’s up to you two. If you both want it to work out…”
“That’s what I’m worried about. By the time I get back she’ll have moved on and learned to hate me.”
“You don’t know that,” Benny countered. Able to tell the expression that would be on Will’s face right now, he continued. “She still loves you man.”
“I wish she didn’t. She deserves better, not this shit…”
Benny’s heart ached for his brother, hating that he was going through this on top of being back in action, praying his stress didn’t get the better of him or be the cause of any fatal mistakes.
“Listen, man, I gotta go,” Will spoke, his voice weak and quiet.
“Yeah, okay. Be careful out there.”
“Always.”
The beep of the call ending sounded in Benny’s ear before there was even the chance to consider saying anything else, and he hoped Will would hang onto the thought that maybe it wasn’t all lost yet.
Days turned into weeks, but the amount of time that was passing didn’t help to make things feel any better, making you wonder every day if it would ever stop hurting.
Anger grew as you wracked your brain combing through every detail of every conversation and act that could've led to this, wondering where it was that you went wrong, but you still couldn’t pinpoint the moment Will gave up on loving you or what it was that made him peel away. It almost hurt just as much as him being gone did, unable to know what the cause was so you could try to rectify it and simply get closure as to why it ended, your heart like an open wound that would never heal.
You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time before exiting your room, on your way to meet two of your girlfriends for a quiet drink, your attempts to refuse unaccepted.
You couldn’t deny that it would possibly help get your mind off of Will, but you knew it was futile as everything you did and everywhere you went, he was there.
“That guy can’t stop looking over here at you,” Grace said through a grin as she nudged you with her elbow, and you twisted in your chair slightly to follow her gaze.
You took a sip of your wine as you assessed the man with dark brown hair and brown eyes staring directly at you, his smile bright and clean, his lips plump and inviting.
You said nothing as you turned back to your friends, raising your eyebrows as if that was a response that would appease anyone.
“Come on, he’s gorgeous!” Nicole urged, tilting her head indignantly.
“I never said he wasn’t!” you defended, but in your head all you could think was how he wasn’t Will.
“You need a rebound fuck,” Grace suggested, and the thought made your stomach flip.
“I’m not ready for any of that yet,” you admitted, hoping they would understand how raw everything still felt.
“We know,” Nicole sympathized, giving your hand a squeeze as she placed hers overtop, and you knew they would support you in anything whether it was continuing to miss Will with every part of your being or hooking up with the next man who walked by.
“Oh shit, he’s coming over,” Grace blurted, adjusting in her seat as a wide smile appeared on her face.
Your heart plummeted in your gut, and you sighed, praying this wouldn’t be as horribly awkward as you were expecting it to be, trying to find the energy to be kind and cordial despite not wanting to.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” a deep, smooth voice purred behind you, and you felt the demand of his presence as he stood beside your chair.
His eyes were even more alluring up close, and his crooked smirk was equally charming as it was sexy, the dark scruff around his mouth complimenting his olive complexion.
You swallowed, feeling unable to find words, and with a low chuckle, it prompted him to continue.
“I couldn’t help but want to come over to say hi and introduce myself.” He spoke with such confidence, his voice so seductive. “I’m Cam.”
He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did, feeling your hand tremble slightly before he took it in a firm grip and moved it up and down once on your behalf.
You introduced yourself as well as Nicole and Grace who you wanted to kick under the table for how they were gawking at him, but not as much as you wanted to crawl under it to hide away as he pulled out a chair from the empty table beside yours and took a seat.
“Can I get you ladies another round?”
“Oh, yes please!” the girls chimed, seeming completely enthusiastic about him joining you.
You assessed his hand for any ring as he waved the waitress over, requesting for the same drinks to be brought to the table, feeling relieved there was no band wrapped around his ring finger, but something about him still felt off to you.
He’s not Will, your mind reminded you, and you took a long drink of your wine to try to swallow the sour feeling stirring in your gut.
It was comfortable enough talking to him, even catching yourself laughing at some of the things he said and genuinely having a good time, but every time you felt yourself liking something about him, there was one thing you found you didn’t.
He’s not Will.
You found yourself lost in his chocolate eyes as he spoke to you, imagining instead they were clear blue and held a brightness that reflected the love you had learned to see shine through them, only to be reminded that that wasn’t something that existed for you anymore, and you blinked back to the reality you faced.
“Would it be too forward of me if I asked for your number?” Cam asked, his eyebrows raising on his forehead in a hopeful, but confident expression.
“Hm, yeah, sure,” you replied, picking his phone up from the table that he slid over to you and typed your number into a text message along with your name, sending it to yourself.
“I’ll call you,” he said, standing from his seat where he continued to smile at you.
Your eyes followed him as he walked over to the bar to pay his tab, feeling something stir in you as he looked back over his shoulder at you one last time before he sauntered out of the bar, everything about him charming and gorgeous.
But he wasn’t Will.
“Are you going to go out with him?” Nicole asked excitedly, the looks on both your friend’s faces confusing you like you missed something they hadn’t.
“Umm,” you pondered, trying to wrap your head around the situation, the three glasses of wine making your head feel fuzzy. “I- I don’t know.”
You felt like crying, feeling a sense of guilt and anxiety bubble up in you, like you were betraying Will and being unfaithful despite the reminder that he wasn’t yours slapping you in the face and twisting your heart in your chest.
A few days had passed since your night out with the girls, and as expected, a text from Cam had come through asking to take you for dinner, the invitation sitting ignored and unresponded to in your messages.
Every time you opened your phone to reply, you would see Will’s name a few spots down from Cam’s, the contrast between them and what was past and what was present making you wish more than ever that you could go back in time and try to mend whatever it was that took Will away from you.
You didn't recall ever being so irritable, your temper short and your patience gone, a toss up whether you would scream or cry at the drop of a hat becoming the daily gamble.
The gym didn’t even seem to allay these frustrations, and as you tried to adjust the height of the rack bracket and it got stuck, you felt that blanket of red creeping up through you.
Cursing under your breath, you wiggled the pin again and again, tugging and jostling it to try to get it to move, the clanking of the metal against metal drawing attention over to you by prying, judging eyes.
“Need help?”
You sighed with relief, hearing the familiar voice that belonged to Benny, closing your eyes and counting your breaths as he stepped in and adjusted it for you.
“Thank you,” you muttered, avoiding meeting his eyes as shame washed over you.
“You alright?”
You forced the air out of your lungs again, still not meeting his piercing gaze.
“I'm just so angry and there's nothing I can do about it,” you admitted, your tone defeated.
“I understand that,” Benny drawled, leaning against the squat rack.
You felt him studying you, almost as if he was debating saying something.
“He asks about you every time I talk to him…”
It felt like the wind was knocked right out of you, and somehow you managed to speak.
“He does?”
Your bewilderment seemed to confuse Benny, his face screwed up as he looked at you like it was the most obvious and normal thing.
“Yeah?”
You covered your face with your hands, letting out a growl that did nothing to signify your frustration at the situation.
“I still don’t know what I did wrong. He stopped staying the night and became more and more distant each time I saw him…” You paused briefly, trying to put your thoughts in order. “Then he just stopped altogether and the next time we spoke he ended it, and now you’re saying he asks about me?”
“He didn’t tell you about his nightmare?” Benny asked, his shock blatant.
You shook your head, your brows knitted tightly together. “No?”
Benny sighed and rolled his eyes, shifting on his feet as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Jesus Christ…okay,” he groaned, exasperated by his brother’s ability to consistently make things worse.
You stood there unmoving as Benny explained what had happened, going over all the details Will had told him of his nightmare and his reactions to it, and you felt cold despite having worked up a sweat from what you had done in your routine already.
“I told him he wouldn't actually hurt you but he was so messed up from it. I think it was days before he managed to sleep after that,” Benny said, his tone sad. “I've only seen him that distraught after a nightmare a couple times before.”
“Why wouldn’t he have said anything to me?” you asked, your voice a whisper.
Benny shrugged, “I think he was scared. And then knowing he was leaving on top of it…it was just too much for him.”
You nodded, rubbing your hands on your arms for some sort of comfort, feeling like your heart was breaking all over again, but this time for Will rather than because of him.
“I’m not making excuses for him,” Benny went on, leaning with his arms up on the barbell that hung across the rack. “I don’t agree with what he did, I just know how messy things can get in that head of his, and as his brother I kinda always have to have his back, but it doesn't mean I’m on his side.”
You nodded, at a loss for words as your mind tried to process everything.
It was a helpless feeling, having some sort of understanding now but unable to do anything about it, wondering if you should send Will a message or have Benny pass one along, but all you wanted to tell him was you loved him and that was probably something he didn’t need right now.
“Thanks for telling me,” you said softly, all of your anger replaced with sadness and worry, your heart aching in your chest.
Time continued to pass but did nothing to heal, each day marking another one gone without a word between you and Will, leaving you more unclear than ever at what to do, feeling that if he wanted anything to do with you, he would’ve reached out by now.
Not wanting to put Benny in the middle of it, you never once asked him to interfere or treated him as a messenger, only asking how his brother was doing when he hadn’t told you on his own and thankful that he usually would provide an update anyway knowing you were wondering.
The last time you saw the younger Miller you had dropped off a week’s worth of food, having prepped a variety of high fat and carb meals, helping to get him ready for his upcoming fights in a new weight class.
Cooking for Benny was just the type of distraction you needed, feeling useful and productive and able to put this latent energy into something good for someone else, offering to make his meals for him each week so he didn’t have to worry about his nutrition while focusing on his training.
He had told you as he helped unload all the food from your car that Will was due to return home soon, a matter of days or weeks but there was no exact date yet, and every time you went to the gym or to the grocery store, you braced yourself for a run-in with the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.
You finished washing your face and brushing your teeth, checking your phone one last time before leaving it on your dresser for the night, never getting used to the disappointment you felt at not seeing a sweet message from Will like you used to whenever he wasn’t with you, and still holding hope that whenever it did buzz with a text, it would be Benny saying Will was back.
Your anxiousness was getting the better of you, feeling like it was worsening each day to the point you were struggling to sleep even more than what had now become your normal, never resting for more than a couple of hours at a time if you were lucky.
So many things passed through your mind in those hours spent awake, some of which consisted of that outstanding offer for a date with Cam, not declining it yet despite knowing it was something you didn’t want anything to do with. Nicole and Grace would still bring it up whenever you talked but didn’t put any pressure on you, both of them knowing deep down you were happiest with Will, and you weren’t about to jeopardize any remaining chance with him until you knew for sure that there was an absolute finality to your relationship.
Not feeling tired but knowing you needed to try to sleep, you crawled into bed, nestling yourself under the covers on the side that Will used to occupy, closing your eyes in hopes your mind would drum up the memory of his arms wrapped around you.
You knew you shouldn't do it, knowing it wasn't helping you move on and that some might deem it unhealthy, but every time you laid in bed you imagined him with you and it was becoming the only thing that would get you to sleep.
It had been your haven; the warmth of his body and your limbs tired and wonderfully achy from sex providing all the comfort you needed to drift off, both of you usually able to sleep soundly with the exception of Will having the occasional nightmare until his mind plagued him with the one that he couldn’t get past.
How could it be so wrong to go back to a time when a version of you didn't haunt his dreams, when you had brought each other nothing but love and understanding and a sense of safety and security? You kept replaying what Benny had told you about his nightmare over and over, the sense of guilt you had over it working to torture you just as much as the dream tormented Will.
You sighed, squeezing your eyelids tight, doing everything in your power to recall the feel of his lips on your neck, his breath ghosting over your skin as he wished you goodnight, his beard scratching against you in the most addicting way as he tucked his face as close to yours as he could.
Tears started to spring from your eyes the harder you shut them, thinking how you would give it all up in a heartbeat so Will could be happy and live a life with all of his worries put at ease even if it meant you couldn’t be a part of it.
Will picked at the frayed laces on his boot as he listened to the dial tone, one leg bent to rest on his knee while waiting for Benny to pick up, excited to share the news that he was flying home tomorrow and to get an update on Benny’s training, knowing he had been working hard to put on the last few pounds needed to put him in the Light Heavyweight class.
“Sup, bro?” he finally answered, out of breath.
“Hey, Ben. You running?”
“Just in the middle of some light spars. Got my first fight tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yeah, buddy!” he hollered, his excitement palpable through the phone.
“That’s awesome, Benny,” Will praised, proud of his brother for reaching his goal.
“How’re you doing?” Benny panted.
“I’m okay,” he paused, planting his foot down so both were on the ground and scratching his head. “Coming in tomorrow.”
“Fuck, seriously?”
“Yeah…”
“Shit. The fight is in Fort Myers, I can’t pick you up, man.”
Will tried his best to disguise his disappointment, his leg bouncing as he tried to level his voice.
“It’s fine, I’ll take a cab or get Redfly to drop me off,” he suggested, knowing he wouldn’t even ask his friend since Tom would be so eager to be reunited with his girls.
Benny sighed, “You sure?”
“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I’m just sorry I’ll miss that fight.”
“There will be more, don’t worry,” he assured. “Safe flight home, eh?”
“Thanks Benny. Good luck tomorrow. Knock ‘em dead.”
Benny chuckled, “Yeah, I will. See you soon, bro.”
Will ended the call and sat for a minute, the bit of excitement he felt about coming home diminished, feeling a sense of dejection that he officially had no one there for him.
He considered all of his options, the thought of reaching out to you even crossing his mind, but knew that he couldn’t and he would just have to settle for whatever warm welcome the cab driver wouldn’t provide him.
He blew air out of his mouth slowly, starting to feel like he couldn't capture a proper breath, closing his eyes as the sense of self-inflicted and well-deserved dread he was now accustomed to consumed him.
One, two, three…he counted, the numbers switching from the sound of his own voice to yours, repeating them with each breath in and out until he secured a consistent pattern.
Tomorrow.
You knew what it meant without any other context, the single word appearing on your screen from Benny making your heart jump into your throat, and you grabbed the edge of the countertop behind you with shaky hands as you leaned against it.
He had promised to tell you when he knew for sure and here it was, the day you had hoped for for so long, but one you were also terrified for.
Will was coming home.
As a slew of emotions ran through you, it dawned on you that his arrival happened to be on the same day as Benny’s fight, and you wondered if that meant anyone would be there to welcome him home.
You picked up your phone to reply to Benny, thinking of asking him who was planning to pick Will up from base, but as soon as you started typing the message, you hit the arrow to delete it, putting your phone back down on the counter.
It wasn’t your business, you told yourself, fighting every urge to make it yours, the thought of Wil returning home from the hells he faced with no one there for him breaking your heart.
You figured you were the last person he would want to see anyway, and knowing you had the potential to send him even more over the edge made you feel sick, thinking of how much had changed from when you were the one who used to bring him peace.
The flight was long, and it felt like every muscle in Will’s body ached as he walked off the plane and waited to board the bus that would bring them to the base station, feeling so close but still so far from being home.
There was continuous chatter around him, the excitement of all the soldiers about reuniting with their loved ones making Will feel happy and sad at the same time, and he did his best to seem enthused when asked if he was looking forward to going home.
He checked his phone more times than he needed to, having sent Benny a text that he had landed to which he responded with a thumbs up emoji, part of him hoping that there would be something from you, only to remember he didn’t deserve any grace for his actions.
He was getting everything he deserved, he thought as he pressed his head back against the headrest after sitting down, sighing out slowly while closing his eyes, finding it amusing that being alone was something he was both looking forward to and completely dreading.
It wasn’t long before the bus arrived at base, and Will remained in his seat until everyone else had gotten off, not wanting his fellow troops who were so eager to hold their loved ones to be held up by him who was only going to wait for a fucking cab.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way through people hugging, a weak smile forming on his lips in seeing one of his friends holding his newborn baby, and not far off did he watch Tom embrace both of his daughter’s in his arms, picking them up and swinging them around until they were screaming with delight.
After making his way to the doors, he pulled out his phone and looked up the number for a taxi, rubbing his other hand over his tired eyes roughly, praying it wouldn’t take long for one to show up.
The area he stood in was quiet with everyone else still lingering behind, but he glanced up when he noticed a couple walking past hand-in-hand, pausing to steal a kiss.
Will was about to hit the number to dial for Taxi Tampa when he looked up again, his eyes landing on a familiar face and one he couldn’t forget even if he tried.
You had just walked in and were stopped in your tracks as you noticed him at the same time, your face a mix of so many emotions that Will could hardly pick one out.
You gave a small shrug and shook your head, silently explaining that you didn’t really know what you were doing there, and Will all but choked as he tried to take a breath, his shock in seeing you completely overwhelming.
He dropped his bag and let his phone fall on top of it, stepping toward you in purposeful strides, his eyes welling up just the same as yours were.
“I wasn’t sure if I should even come but…I had to show up for you,” you shook out, Will’s hands reaching to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing your cheeks as tears started to fall down them.
He nodded in response, unable to say anything, his own tears breaking their threshold as you grabbed onto his forearms, rubbing them through his shirt as he continued to hold onto you.
He pulled you into a hug, relieved when you embraced him just as hard, feeling himself relax into you, his face nuzzling your head.
“I’m sorry,” he cried, alternating his remorse with ‘thank you’ between pressing kisses onto your forehead and hair, your sobs making your body lurch against his.
Your hands pawed at his back, clawing at his fatigues like you were trying to hold onto him for good, and Will prayed with everything he had that you never would let go.
He wasn’t sure how long you stayed like that for, but he eventually felt himself calm down, relishing in holding you and being in your presence again, knowing he would do everything in his power to make every bit of hurt up to you.
Will inhaled deeply, letting it go slowly out of his mouth, feeling like he could finally breathe properly again after all this time.
It was surreal to be in his arms, his warm embrace something you missed more than you imagined you could have, the feel of his body on yours and his scent surrounding you so familiar.
His heartbeat thrummed in your ear as you continued to rest your face on his chest, hearing his breathing having evened out and realizing yours had done the same.
You reluctantly pulled away to look at him, still keeping your arms locked around his middle. “Should we get you home?”
Will’s mouth turned up on one side, his crooked smirk making you melt.
“Yeah,” he nodded, his hand falling to land on your lower back as you both turned to where his bag was left on the floor.
You expected a moment like this to feel awkward, but it was anything but, like you were learning each other all over again, standing in Will’s room with your arms around each other’s waist, your faces so close and your lips inches from touching.
Finally, Will leaned into you, softly pressing his lips on yours, making you hold your breath as you let your eyes close and kissed him back, a broken moan transferring into his mouth as you forced yourself to try to take in air again.
His hand ran across your back, pulling you close to him as he took a step into you, your shirt slipping up so his palm splayed out on your skin, that sensation alone making you shiver in addition to how good it felt to have his lips on yours again.
Kisses grew more intense as each second ticked by, only pausing when he lifted your shirt over your head, and despite feeling so desperate, you both continued to keep every touch slow and careful.
His fingers pinched the clasp of your bra together to release it, moving the straps down your shoulders until it fell from your body, returning his hands to your arms where he trailed his fingertips up them to your neck and then down to your bare chest.
You found the buttons on his shirt, blindly unfastening each one until you were able to peel it open, feeling his smooth chest and the defined muscles of his torso, his warmth radiating out onto you.
Will reached up to take hold of your face, angling your head to press his tongue deeper in your mouth, stealing every bit of air from you in the process.
Breathe, your mind begged, but kissing him was better than breathing.
The rough material of his fatigues brushed against your nipples, making your breath hitch in your throat even more, your body moving to rub against him again to replicate the feeling.
You were rid of your pants and underwear next, leaving you naked while Will remained in his uniform, but the intoxicating feel of your skin on his bare chest let him know that he needed to have as much skin-on-skin contact as possible, and he tore the garment off his upper body quickly before moving to his pants.
Once you were bared to each other, you returned to your slow caresses, touching and exploring with light fingers and hands, your pleasure brought on purely by love.
You stopped kissing him for a moment, teasing your lips on his until you managed to whisper, your voice thick with lust.
“I need you, Will. I need you inside me.”
His nose nudged your cheek as he agreed with the nod of his head, his hands clasping your face again like he feared if he went too long without kissing you, you would vanish.
He took your hand and led you to the bed, sitting down on it and shifted back slightly where you followed, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, looking into his vibrantly blue eyes as he gazed at you lovingly.
His hands slid all along your back, bringing you closer to his body before they landed on your legs, guiding you to put them straight so they were behind him and you were seated flush against his lap.
You breathed out slowly as your forehead rested against his, feeling his cock settle at your folds, and when you moved your hips ever so slightly, you gasped at the sensation.
Will kissed along your jawline, his hands massaging your hips, ready to assist as you lifted yourself enough to reach between your bodies and take hold of his cock, guiding him to your entrance where you slowly sank onto his length.
Short, shuddered breaths were exchanged between you before you found each other’s lips again, and you gradually began to move together, finding a tempo that sang to you and helped display the love that had been missing.
Will held onto every part of you that he could, grasping at you as you rocked and rode him, his hips jutting up into yours in slow, meticulous thrusts to give you everything you needed, feeling your desperation grow while his did too.
Your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs above his cock, grinding until you were at the edge, the way your wet walls clenched around and encased him driving him to the brink what felt like faster than ever.
Even though you were both quick to arrive at your climaxes, nothing about it was rushed, savouring each movement to get there and not taking a single second for granted, every emotion felt transferred through your bodies.
Will kissed you hard, groaning into your mouth as he came undone, coating your walls and filling you completely with his hot cum that started to leak out of you as you continued to move on his shaft, your orgasm lagging just seconds behind.
Your fingers clawed at the back of his neck, scratching and digging into his flesh as your body took every bit of pleasure from him, the seal of your mouths breaking as you both panted for air, his head falling into the hollow of your neck while yours rested on the side of his, his hair soft on your cheek.
His mouth smeared wet across your collarbone as he moved his face, pressing sloppy, lazy kisses onto your skin as he continued to hold you close, feeling his chest and back expand and contract with each heavy breath while you kept your arms secured around him.
Will brought you with him as he laid down on his sheets, your bodies still connected, his fingertips tracing your hairline before he leaned toward you and kissed your lips again.
After a few more minutes of kissing, you tucked your face into his neck, your legs entwining with his, Will rolling over onto his back where he held your hand and brought it to rest on his chest.
A silent agreement seemed to settle between you to leave the talking until tomorrow, right now needing to simply be with each other, and like nothing had ever gone wrong, Will closed his eyes and fell asleep, his mind and body finding a peace he didn’t think he would ever have again.
---
Part 8
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writingchalamet · 2 months
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Angels Like You II
Angels Like You Chapter I
A.N: Hope you enjoyed part 1, things will be heating up from here and we will be getting a lot more Y/n and Bucky interaction!
Word count: 2.6k
Warnings: Angst, Swearing, violence, blood, mentions of S/A, mentions of graphic physical abuse, fluff, y/n has a child, Bucky being protective
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Chapter II
Your day had begun like any other, waking to the sound of Forrest stirring on your baby monitor. You walk into his bedroom finding him sitting in his cot a beautiful smile instantly gracing his face as you enter the room, rambling the word 'mama' or an iteration of the sort over and over, you were both all smiles all morning as you most days, getting Forrest ready for day care was perhaps your least favourite part of the day, he still cried when you dropped him off and it broke your heart in two everyday. After Forrest was dropped off at day care, you start your day at work, keeping the door to the Bakery locked until your other baker joins you in an hour, you make a start on your breads taking your premade doughs out the fridge, giving them a quick kneed before placing them in their baking trays. Then onto pastries and cakes you can whip up from scratch, deciding on lemon and blueberry cupcakes with cream-cheese frosting as your 'chefs choice' for the week.
You hear a tap on the glass door and go through kitchen into the main shop to kind your employee Kay standing at the door smiling, clutching a bunch of flowers in her arms. You unlocked the door opening enough to let her in before securing the lock again, "Hey Kay, how are you?" you embrace her in a side hug "I'm good thanks, I got these flowers for the counter, I saw them yesterday and they reminded me of you, so you know" the thought brought a smile to your face in an instant. "Oh thank you, that's so cute" You find a jug to put them in, arranging the carnations on the counter next to the till. Yourself and Kay continue baking and prepping for the day ahead, finishing off some icing and glazing before placing the first batches into the display counter and finishing setting up.
The morning flew by, your regulars came in for their morning coffee and pastries, the couple of old ladies who come by once a week to pick up a loaf of bread and some cakes stopped by and had a chat, and a few college students stopped in, you were happy with how business was going, until you saw a certain head of curls across the street, dark eyes looking your way, his figure loomed over you like a dark omen, you just knew something terrible was about to happen, you could tell by the way he sat there chain smoking and swigging from his coffee cup, that was most likely not coffee, he wore a smug smile across his face while he continued to stare at you.
"Okay Boss, I'm gonna run down the road and grab some lunch, you want anything?" You tore your gaze away from the menacing stare of your ex to meet Kay's. "Uh, no I'm good thanks" she nodded and headed out the door, down the street and out of sight. You were alone. Shit. You look up again and see that Matt had moved from his spot on the wall across your shop, and was moving hastily towards you. You clamber over the counter and try to make it to the door before him, but you're too late. The sweet ding off the bell above the door ringing leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. "Get out Matt, you can't be here" you try to be firm but your voice only comes out broken.
"Or what, you gonna call the cops? You know they won't do anything" He stalks towards you until your backed up against your counter, the hard wood digging into your back. "Matt seriously, leave me alone, please" you were willing yourself not to cry but couldn't help the few stray tears that slipped down your cheeks. Matt picked up the jug of flowers smashing them down against the counter with force causing the glass to shatter, a few shards cutting your arm in the process. "Don't you fucking cry or I'll give you something to cry about" His hands wrapped around your neck cutting off your supply of oxygen while he threw you against the window, keeping you pinned there by your neck. You sputtered out a choke as tears slipped down your face, only making him grip you impossibly tighter, "You wanna fucking cry, you ran away while you were pregnant with my child, I have a right to see them, huh, where is the little brat" He shook your neck bashing your head against the glass. You only hoped he would tire himself out, he usually didn't last long when he'd had a drink anyway.
Over all the commotion you didn't hear the bell of the door opening, and you didn't see Bucky coming to stand behind Matt but thank the lord he did. "You're gonna wanna let the lady go" As soon as you heard his voice your senses ignited, your eyes opened and the tears stopped flowing immediately. Matt loosened his grip but refused to let go. "yeah or what" he scoffed before throwing his head over his shoulder catching a glimpse of your rescuer. You could have sworn you saw him recoil into himself, something you had never once seen. However his fear was short lived and soon replaced by anger once more. "Who's this guy huh? what you just opened your legs for the first guy you said hi to here, you whor-" the second his grip tightened around your neck once more it was enough to send Bucky into overdrive.
He reached forwards wrapping his hand around Matts wrist bending it backwards until you were sure you heard a snap, while Matt screamed Bucky secured an arm around you, giving you the once over, not stopping until you gave him a nod. "Oh I'm gonna fucking kill you, you stupid bitch" in a poor attempt to throw a punch Matt practically threw himself at Bucky, who didn't seem the slightest bit phased, caught Matt by his throat with his vibranium arm, squeezing until he was red in the face. Matt coughed attempting to pull back, Bucky only pulled him closer, clenching his fist all that bit harder. He pulled him close enough that his mouth reached Matts ear. "If you come near her again, I'll fucking finish the job" with those words he pushed Matt away from the two of them, Matt scrambling away and out the door nearly falling to the floor in the process. You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding, feeling the weight of the world fall off your shoulders for just a moment.
Hot tears spill down your cheeks again in slow steady streams, burning the skin in their wake. "Thank you" you breathed out, your shaking hands reaching up to wipe your face, it's then your realise the blood dripping from a glass made gash on your arm, dripping down your fingers and onto the floor. "Hey, let me take a look at that, make sure you don't need stitches" you pull your arm away from him recoiling into yourself, "no it's fine, you've done enough, you can go, thank you Bucky" You stare at the floor the entire time watching as small droplets of blood begin to litter the tiles. "I'm not leaving in case he comes back, in fact I'm gonna patch you up and we're gonna get Forrest and go home, okay, sound good?" His hand raised to your cheek gaining your attention from your disoriented state, he wipes away the tears as they form under your eyes, brushing them away from your skin, you close your eyes for a moment allowing the feeling to sooth you.
"Alright lets get you cleaned up"
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After the incident at the bakery Sam, Bucky and Sarah had been on high alert, Sam brought up the fact that they could have Torres flown in to be your own personal bodyguard, the thought daunting, that you might actually need one. Then Sarah brough up the fact that there are two more than capable 'bodyguards' here if they want to help. And that's how you ended up here, with Bucky living in your spare room for the past two nights, seemingly watching your every move afraid you'll shatter like glass.
What shocked you the most was how quickly Forrest had taken to Bucky, usually he was shy around people for weeks, hell he’s been going to nursery for a year and still won’t let some of the day care assistants hold or play with him. In a way you were glad he was so reserved, made you think that he would never just run off with a stranger, or your psycho ex. But with Bucky he was different, he seemed to open up pretty much straight away, showing him his favourite toys, wanting to sit next to him on the sofa, wherever you looked you would see Forrest’s little hand reaching up for Buck’s trying to show him something, the sight bringing a dull ache to your chest. Maybe it was the lack of a male presence in his life that made him take to Bucky so well, but you were grateful either way.
You were settling down for the evening after feeding Forrest his dinner, the three of you snuggled up on the couch watching a Disney movie before you put Forrest down for bed. You couldn’t help the warm fuzzy feeling filling your body as you watched Forrest nuzzle into Bucky’s side, his head leaning on his chest. You found your head lulling to the side more often than watching the film, admiring the pair of them, Forrest occasionally pointing to the screen and muttering some gibberish to Bucky excitedly. Towards the end of the film, Forrest had fallen asleep, cuddled into Buck’s side. “I better get him up to bed” you sighed in content beginning to sit up from your comfy seated position. “I can take him up if you want” Bucky spoke in a hushed tone, already slipping his arms around the boy and standing from the sofa. “Why don’t we go up together?" You smiled, getting up from the sofa and following Bucky up the stairs into your sons’ room, you admired the way Bucky gently placed him down on the changing table as if he had done it a thousand times, and stood aside letting you get the baby changed ready for bed. Once he had a fresh nappy and pyjamas on, Bucky picked him up once more, leaning over the side of the cot and smoothly placed Forrest down into his bed, without him stirring once. You both stood there and smiled over the sleeping baby for a moment before retreating back downstairs.
You opened a bottle of wine grabbing two glasses, heading back into the living room finding Bucky back in his original spot on the sofa once more. “I never really got the chance to thank you for the other day, or explain…” You avoided eye contact as you sat down, fiddling with the stem of your wine glass in an attempt to distract yourself. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, I’m just glad I was able to help is all” Bucky responds coyly, wrapping a hand around yours in an attempt to stop your nervous fidgeting around the glass. “Sarah spoke to me… She said that she told you guys about Matt… That you seemed pretty upset” you plucked up the courage to look in his eyes, as you did, he looked away, shaking his head. Almost embarrassed. “I uh… I don’t know what to tell you…” There was a pause after he spoke, neither of you knowing what to say. “Why do you care so much, you don’t know me?”
Bucky scoffed, seeming taken aback by your comment, as if someone caring about your well being was a problem. “Why wouldn’t I care, especially after hearing the shit he put you through, that would be enough to make any sane person mad, no?” His response seemed valid, even if you didn’t want to admit it, if it had been you that had found Sarah pregnant and sleeping in her car, hearing her situation you would have been just as furious. You understood where he was coming from. “I guess…” Your sentence trailed off and you stared into your empty wine glass. Bucky took the hint and opened the bottle of wine, filling your glass more than you normally would have, you giggled side eyeing him, tilting the glass up to your eyeline. “You trying to get me drunk Barnes, you know there’s a sleeping toddler upstairs right” you joked, clinking your glass with his, just as full. He laughed along shaking his head.
After sinking one or two bottles of wine, you felt yourself growing more confident. The wine raising a sweet pink blush to your cheeks which Bucky found undeniably cute, he found himself drawing closer to you and you let him, there was no room between you, his arm encased the back of the sofa around your shoulders, your head occasionally falling back to rest on the limb, your thigh hunched up resting on his own, as you chatted the night away truly getting to know each other. If Sam were to look in through the window Bucky knows he would have a shit eating grin plastered on his face at the sight of his best friend this close to a girl after so many years. And you couldn’t help but admit, it felt nice to be this close to someone, especially after the only relationship you had ever been in was an abusive one, you thought you would find it hard to trust, but Bucky made you feel at ease the second you were near him.
“So, what’s it like being a superhero?” you enquired eyes wide with wonder. He scoffed again shaking his head, and attribute you would soon grow attached to. “I’m no superhero doll” you shook your head, taking his glass out of his hand and placing it on the coffee table, you place yourself directly in his eyeline, practically sitting in his lap. “Oh common! You fought Thanos’ army, helped bring down that Zemo guy and you just stopped the flag smashers! And to top it off you were sergeant of the Howling Commandos. I’d say that’s pretty superhero-esque to me” you wink at him and couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the look on his face. “Okay stalker, someone’s done their homework” he laughs out, he raised his hands in defence, lowering them to rest on your lower back and his Vibranium hand on your thigh, your hands settled on his shoulders, and you gave them a light squeeze, feeling intrigued by the feeling of the metal under his shirt.
 “Of course, I had to, I’m not gonna let some strange man I don’t know stay in the same house as my son, am I?” you tilted your head to the side, eyeing him quizzically. “Of course, not” The flesh hand holding your back began to stroke up your back and you forgot to breathe for a moment. His hand stilled in the centre of your back, laying there flat and steady. You stared into the blues of his eyes, realizing now just how deep they really are. How much history they hold behind them, how many horrors he too has seen. You felt his gaze searching your own, tracing every spec on your face, you saw his eyes linger by your eyebrow where your scar was and regrettably you tore your own pair away from his face. Removing yourself from his lap, standing before him. He sat there; brows furrowed slightly in question as to why you were leaving. “I should get to bed, I have to get back to work tomorrow, but thank you Bucky for a lovely evening, thank you for everything…” You spoke to the floor before turning hurriedly towards the stairs. “Yeah, yeah, no problem… No problem at all…” Bucky spoke shallowly to himself wondering what he had done wrong.
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bgyuus · 6 months
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˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆。° we can't be friends
he was important to you
this isn't accurately based of his lore (his story will be dropping in 2.1) nor even based of the 2.0 storyline BUT ariana grande's new song and album had me on a chokehold sm i just had to write it about aventurine, although i can see this song fitting perfectly with sae itoshi from blue lock too :> (not proofread btw)
"kakavasha!"
you smiled, running up to him with a small piece of bread in your fingers. having to live under poverty because of the 'bad guys' that were attacking your hometown was becoming even harder to find food yet alone shelter.
the boy with with blonde hair and purple eyes- that you swore you could look into them everyday and never got bored, turned to you with a wide smile on his face. "this is great! we finally have something to eat!"
the both of you shared the bread together under a rundown hut somewhere on the outskirts of sigonia-IV, looking over their homes.
the boy handed out a small bracelet, clipping it around her hand as he bashfully rubs the back of his head. "It's not much but.. at least this'll remind you of me."
"kakavasha.." she whispers softly, looking at him with tears in her eyes. the boy's face instantly turned pale as he nods to let you continue.
"promise me you'll stay with me, even if we get to leave this place, i want us to stay together. promise?"
the boy nods at your words, making a pinkie swear to seal their promise. little that you know that such promises were never bound to be true anyway.
time skips to current penacony
"y/n! check out the view!"
march 7th said as they all step down the express, looking over the reverie. the receptionist greeted them with a warm smile while himeko dealt with the room reservations.
"having problems with checking in?"
a voice that sounded so smug made them all turned their heads, facing a blonde man wearing a exclusive suit that was surely expensive.
"i beg your pardon, mr..?" welt asks, stepping in front of the girls. for some reason, you kept staring at the blonde man. something about him was giving off familiarity. "those eyes-"
"you like my eyes? why thank you, friend."
the blonde said in tone which definitely made you feel like slapping him. he sounded so cocky yet you can't help but feel like you know him from somewhere.
"kakavasha..?" you quietly spoke, making the blonde glaring daggers towards you. "Y-you're.. you're alive?" your hand reaches out to touch his cheek but the blonde stepped back. "the name's aventurine. i have no idea who you're talking about." he snapped, crossing his arms.
dismissing you, he went over to welt and himeko to discuss about the room reservations, leaving you, march and stelle alone. "you know the guy?" stelle asked with a disgusted look on her face. "yeah y/n, he was rude to you," march added. you brought out the bracelet that was wrapped around your wrist nearly as you walked up to the blonde who's name was aventurine.
"mr aventurine, sorry to disturb you but do you remember this?"
you showed him the bracelet, in hopes that this was the kakavasha she once cherished. aventurine flinches when his eyes lays on the bracelet but he shook his head a no. "no idea where you got that piece of art from," he replied bluntly. "you're from sigonia-IV! your eyes explains it! i'm y/n, one of the remaining sigonia-IV survivors-"
"i don't know you."
this made you stop dead as you blinked at him. "w-what do you-" "you heard me."
you lowered your head in shame as the commotion was already attracting other hotel guests in the lobby. stelle quickly steps in front of you as march tries to console you as the tears went down your cheeks unnoticeable.
"fine, we'll have it your way then." himeko glares at him, sealing their deal about the room reservations as aventurine lets out a chuckle. "spot on, astral express friends. enjoy your stay." and with that he walked passed you, sending you an annoyed look before walking away amongst the crowd.
"y/n..." himeko pats your back as she felt bad for what has happened between your interaction with aventurine. you only shake you head in response, giving the express crew a small smile, in hopes for them to ignore the fact that the boy you once loved was now a completely different person.
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realisticfanfictions · 9 months
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Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress.
Sanji x Waitress!Reader
Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.
Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.
A/N: I love the Waitress!Reader so much for OPLA, so I've decided to do another one! I had to split this up into multiple parts, cause this ended up being a bit long. (Link to part two.)
Word Count is 4,829. Hope you enjoy!
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"Where the fuck are my entrees?!" Your voice echoed in the enclosed space, cutting through the melodic and rhythmic sounds of frying, chopping and other things that went on in a kitchen. You brushed past another waitress who wisely got out of your way, your heels clicking against the tiles as you marched up to the pass and slammed your copy of the meal ticket down. "Chef!" You called out, pushing back a strand of your hair as you scanned the chefs who were cooking at a ferocious pace. You locked eyes with an unfortunate new chef, but despite him immediately looking at his feet and trying to walk by, you reached through the window and pulled him by the collar. "Who the hell is on entrees?" He stumbled over his words and you groaned in frustration at his pathetic attempt at the English language.
"That's me." You pushed him back and looked past the cowering chef at the man who had just spoken up, your boyfriend and the love of your life, Sanji. His normally pressed and tidy chef attire was in disarray with his shirt untucked and his sleeves stained with various sauces. He sounded hoarse and was covered in a thin layer of sweat as he cooked some type of meat, flipping it over in the pan to cook it evenly. Intense concentration was etched into his face and the way he scrunched his nose was adorable, but right now you couldn't think of anything else but punching it.
You opened your mouth to speak, but a nearby busboy ran in front of you and you snarled at him. "Watch it, asshole!" You refocused your attention back on the blonde in front of you. "I have thirty-eight tables out there with at least four head a table, and only two waitresses working the floor-!"
He shook his head and his pan aggressively hit the stove top each time he moved it. "You know, it sounds so hard to look pretty and run around in heels all night, but I actually have a real job-"
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, really. And I'd appreciate it if I didn't have you bitching in my ear all night!" He threw some butter in the pan and began to bast the meat.
"Then maybe, if you were actually good at your 'real job'," You said with quotation marks. "Then you'd tell me why the shit it takes thirty-five goddamn minutes for a premade french onion soup!"
He whipped around with a laddle in his hand and he marched over to the pass. You both bent down to see each other through the window. "Hey, if I had any fucking help around here I would have gotten that to you twenty minutes ago, but I'm stuck here-"
"And here we go!" You exclaimed as you threw up your hands dramatically and walked through the swinging doors. You avoided Pattie walking out with a tray of fresh bread and popped on an apron attached to a nearby hook.
"-with my thumb up my arse because apparently no one knows how to plate a damn steak in this kitchen!" He moved around you as you took his place, grabbing the offending meat and placing it atop of the mashed potatoes.
Annoyed, you grabbed the garnish. "Well, where the hell's the plating station?"
Sanji came back and unceremoniously dropped a large stock pot next to you. He bent down to look you in the eye and threw his hands up in the air. "He quit."
Your eyes widened and followed him as he walked to the other side of you and started plating beside you. "He what?"
"He fucking quit! Just like every other bitch who couldn't handle Tuesdays at the Baratie." His brows furrowed and he let out a small shout of frustration. "Whoever the fuck did the halibut, refry it!" He yelled as he set it off to the side. "Just 'cause we're busy doesn't mean you can push out a shit and pass it off as fine dining!"
You plated another order and put it under the heat lamp at the pass, then rang the bell, but no one came. "And we're short-staffed on waitresses too!" You exclaimed and spotted the busboy from before, "Oi! You! Get off your ass and start serving!" You threw your ticket-book and pen at him, which he barely caught from where he was sitting.
"B-But I'm washing dishes-!"
You dramatically gestured around. "We aren't even sending anything out, so unless you've been storing them up your rectum, what fucking dishes are you washing?!" You grabbed the french onion soup in the stock pot that Sanji had given you and quickly poured it into three bowls laced with garnish on top. "Take these to 12, and the steak to 24. Tell 12 that they'll get a free dessert in about twenty minutes. Well? Get a move on! You aren't getting paid to sit there and look pretty, 'cause you sure as hell ain't fucking pretty!" He scrambled to pick them up and he quickly ran out of the kitchen.
"That turned me on more than I'd like to admit." Sanji appeared beside you with another plate and rang the service bell. "If we weren't busy I'd kiss you, darling." He exclaimed as he grabbed a handful of garnish and placed it atop of the plate.
"Oi, fuckface." When he looked over, you quickly pressed a kiss to his lips and grabbed the metal tray of halibut. "Now, let's get these pretentious pricks fed!"
You both worked side by side, barking orders at each other and bickering over every little thing you could - even Zeff yelled at you both to shut up. But it worked. Within minutes, you both had worked through the back orders and finally got to a point where you weren't struggling to complete orders from guests who'd been waiting for hours. When the last table left, you and Sanji just about collapsed. Leaning against the cool wall tile with you by his side, he sighed. "That was definitely one of our busiest days," He said with pure relief that it was finally over.
You couldn't remain standing and slid down the wall, your high heels clicking as you sat down. "Yeah, who knew so many people would wanna celebrate Father's Day?" You replied sarcastically, but a playful smile told your boyfriend that you weren't being mean. He softly chuckled and followed suit, sliding down the wall until he reached the floor with a groan.
He pulled out his cigarettes. "I've earned one of these." He says as he puts it between his lips and waits for you to light it. You roll your eyes and oblige, taking out your lighter and lighting the end of it for him. He took a slow drag, closed his eyes, savoured it, and then exhaled out the smoke.
"You almost make lung cancer look sexy." You remarked with a grin, and he returned it with his own charming, beautiful smile.
His eyes slowly flicked up and down. "And you always make yelling and shouting look so sexy." He licked his lips and leaned in, giving you a kiss that lingered. Your eyes fluttered shut and you enjoyed the small respite from the craziness you had both just experienced. Even when the kiss eventually ended, neither one of you moved away. "Are you working tonight?" He asked under his breath.
You sighed and pecked his lips. "In two hours."
"Till?"
"Four."
"Shit."
"I know." You pressed your lips against his once more and moved some hair out of his face. "But, I'm not working tomorrow so we can sleep in."
He sighed. "I start at nine tomorrow."
"Till?"
"Six."
"Shit."
"I know." You both quietly laughed and pressed your noses together, then rubbed them together while stealing kisses and giggling like you used to when you were kids.
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You'd been at the Baratie ever since you were fifteen, and you'd been dating Sanji since you were sixteen. It wasn't really something you both had officially decided on, nor did either one of you do this big, elaborate confession that made both of you ugly-cry. It happened slowly over time. Many customers and fellow staff would constantly tease you both with things like, "Where's your girlfriend, Sanji?" and, "Aw! You both are so cute together!" At first you both denied it, but eventually you just... stopped correcting people. You were each other's first kiss, first love... first love, and despite how it looks from the outside, you couldn't be happier.
"Oi, Sanji." You called out as you leaned closer to the mirror to focus on your eyeshadow. "Be careful, there's been a lot of pirate activity lately. They might stop by, so Zeff has officially-unofficially instated a no-tolerance policy for- Sanji!" You laughed when your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you and you struggled to do your makeup while Sanji hung off of you and pressed kisses along your cheek. "You toad! You're going to ruin my smokey eye."
He playfully moaned. "But you're so sexy," He whined and pulled back enough to give you puppy eyes. "And you shouldn't work tonight if there's pirates anyway."
"I still have to work." You replied, giving up on doing your makeup and stealing a quick kiss from him. "I'm the head of front-of-house, I can't just ring up Zeff and say, 'hey, your son wants to sleep with me so I can't come in today!'"
"No, you can't." At the sound of his voice, you looked up to see that your boss had entered you and Sanji's shared room. He would have seen the neatly pressed and ironed button-downs wrapped around hangers, and two mismatching pairs of high heels strewn about the floor. His eyes met yours. "We have a full house of rich, but important pricks tonight, and I need all hands on deck. If someone calls in sick, drag them out of bed if you have to."
Your boyfriend pouted playfully. "But she never gets any time off, can't we just-"
"(Y/N) is our head of house, she's too important to lose tonight." Zeff straightened up and crossed his arms over. "Little Eggplant, you can't distract (Y/N) from doing her job. Unlike you, she has to work to stay here." The old man looked over at you and you nodded, you knew that you were a staff member first and foremost - being the girlfriend of his adopted son was second to that.
Sanji's smile tightened, and he stood up. "I know." His blue eyes flashed with something that you meant he wanted to say something but didn't. His smile returned when he looked at you. "I'll see you in the morning."
As he brushed past Zeff and walked out of the room, you furrowed your eyebrows at your boss and father figure. "Now that's one way to get him pissed off at you." The words came out a little more aggressive than you meant to, but you didn't bother correcting yourself.
He sighed and turned to leave. "Leave it alone, (Y/N)."
"And one way to get me pissed off at you too." You dropped your eyeshadow onto the table and followed after him. His wide frame took up quite a bit of space in the hallway, but you squeezed past him to block his path.
Zeff groaned when he saw you and squeezed the bridge of his nose, then released it to gesture while he spoke. "(Y/N), I apologise if you felt offended. You're a part of our family, and--"
"I don't care about that." You scoffed in disbelief and gawked at his lack of social awareness. "You must be really thick in the skull if you think I'm upset about that."
His face scrunched up. "Then what are you upset about? Hm? What are you upset about now?" He gestured behind you. "I have dinner service to prep for," He started to list off on his fingers. "I have a team of flaky waitresses-your team of flaky waitresses to deal with, and I need to make sure that we have enough lamb being delivered for our special tonight. So what could it possibly be that is so important you're holding me up for?"
You counted to five in your head before opening your mouth to speak. "I love him. And I don't give a rat's ass that you sign my paycheck, or give me a roof over my head. You don't make Sanji, my boyfriend and your son, feel shitty just because you think it'll toughen him up. And you certainly don't use me to do that." You keep your gaze locked onto his. "You ever do that again? I walk." You stepped backward and straightened up. "I'll get the team ready for service."
You never regretted what you said. Was your tone harsher than it should've been? Yes, but you needed to get your point across to him. There wasn't any time to think about it though, because it was Friday night and thirty minutes before opening - you didn't have the time to regret what you said.
"Ladies!" You called out, then smiled. "And Sapi." Said fishman smiled at your acknowledgement as your team of staff gathered around to form a semi-circle in front of you. You held up your checklist. "We have fifteen V.I.P tables tonight. I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour. That means no frowning, no blowing your nose on the customer's napkins, and no- oh my God, Macy. If you don't shut the fuck up." The red-lipped, pigtail-wearing waitress jolted back from where she was gossiping with another waitress. You raise your brows at her as if to ask if she was done and rolled your eyes. "And no unprofessionalism." You finished with a glare.
Spai cleared his throat. "How many free tables do we have tonight?"
You looked back at the clipboard and flipped over the page, counting quietly to yourself. "There's two at seven and one at eight. The two at seven are one and eight, and the one at eight is seven. One can be for eight, but don't offer seven to under six because seven and six are over eight. Got it?"
The room was quiet for a moment, and Sapi slowly blinked. "May I have a copy of that, please?"
"I'll bring one to your station," You looked around. "Any questions?" Silence. "Good. Now, put on your fakest smile and happy ga-ga voice - we've got a line of ships waiting to be fed!"
"Let's do this, team!" Macy's voice screeched out and she was met with silence.
You exhaled gruffly and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "Macy, I swear to- let's do this, team!" This time, it was met with a round of cheer as they dispersed to familiarise themselves with their tables for the night.
A pleased sigh escaped you, content with your small but mighty team that you had managed to drag out of bed to work the floor. A glance to the suspiciously blank specials menu made you curse under your breath. You were going to have to talk to Zeff to get tonight's specials. With a defeated sigh, you clipped your pen to your shirt and sucked in a deep breath, before making your way to the kitchen where it sounded like food preparations were already underway.
"...and get those lamb in the cold room!" Zeff's voice was apparent the second you walked through those doors. The kitchen was a mess of people marching backwards and forwards like ants while Zeff, their queen, barked orders as they passed by. You thought about just turning around and pretending that the fight had never happened in the first place, but the old man spotted you and waved you over with a finger. "What can I get you, Sprout?" You breathed out a sigh of relief, hearing his nickname for you was like a wave of fresh air.
You straightened up and grabbed your pen. "Hey geezer, what's the specials tonight?"
He waited for you to finish writing "Specials" across the top of your sheet of paper. "We have Lobster Thermidor paired with the 1500s Chardonnay, or a White Burgundy if they snub the Chardonnay. Then we have classic Red-Wine Braised Lamb Shanks that you can pair with any Grenache you find." He slid a piece of paper to you. "These are the prices. I only want you handling checks tonight."
Out of sheer habit, you slipped the piece of paper into your bra. "Why's that?"
"Because someone messed up the till last night, and I want someone I can trust running it."
That made your heart clench. You sighed. "Look, Zeff," You started and lowered your clipboard. "I'm sorry for stepping out of line earlier. I was angry. Sanji was trying to get some 'us' time because we haven't even been awake at the same time for the last couple months. And when we have it's been with me running the floor and him- you know what I mean. Look, I'd never walk out on you, Zeff."
His face, as always, was blank, but you can tell he was processing what you had just said. He was quiet, but then he nodded. "Get those specials on the board. We open in ten." You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded, then turned around. "Don't fuss, little brussel sprout."
A smile wormed its way onto your face and you looked over your shoulder at him. "Fussin' ain't worth fussing over. Isn't that what you say?" You barely dodged an incoming head of lettuce.
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"Good evening, welcome to the Baratie. My name is (Y/N), can I get you started with some drinks tonight?" You were a natural at this. It didn't matter if you were having an "anti-person day", as Sanji called it, there was no denying that you had talent.
The man with soft, pink hair hummed and looked over the menu. His brass knuckles glistening under the dim lighting of the restaurant. "What are your specials for the night?"
A polite smile went a long way. "The chef has prepared for you a selection of the most wonderful meals made only from the finest and freshest ingredients in the Ease Blue. We have Lobster Thermidor paired with a Chardonnay that I find adds a bit of a fruity, uplifting compliment to the meal. And we have our high-in-demand Lamb Shanks braised in a nice red wine, and paired with only the best Grenache you can find for miles." You didn't bother telling him that it was the same Grenache you had found in the back of the freezer from four months ago.
"That sounds lovely, and what is the cost?"
You quietly hissed and looked over at the beautiful blonde who was sitting across from him, then leaned in to whisper. "I find it's best not to discuss such things on a date. You wouldn't want her to think she isn't worth it, right?"
Well, that certainly worked. He slowly looked between you and his date, who smiled sweetly and encircled the rim of her glass with her perfectly manicured french tips. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "You're right. We'll take one of each, and I'll have to rely on you for what pairs best."
You took the menu he offered with a smile and a nod. "Very well sir, I hope you two enjoy yourselves. Our bar is open all night." And with a wink, you danced away to the kitchen to place 'his' order. It was easy with men like that. All you had to do was dangle their woman's respect in front of them and they'd eat shit just to keep her smiling. But despite the monotony of it at times, you met a lot of interesting people from different backgrounds. You gave a small wave at the man at table two, a regular who had just come back from his royal ballet tour appearance and was with his rich, aristocrat girlfriend, who he said wasn't feeling well.
An set of voices, loud and uncouth, came from above and you stopped to cast a glance upwards. They were... pirates? Well, Zeff did say that they'd been more active around this area as of late, so it wasn't that much of a surprise - especially since there was already a couple tables of them. Sapi looked a little overwhelmed, so you sighed and grabbed a nearby waitress. "Could you take an order to the kitchen for me? It's table three with the two specials, two too. The man at two in the tutu wants it blue, but not at two with Ms. Sue in the red shoes. She has a touch of the flu, so any red meat or roux will make her spew. Got it?"
She blinked. "I think so?"
You patted her on the shoulder and briskly floated up the stairs with as much grace as a head waitress could muster. Their conversation slowly grew louder and you were able to hear some of their conversation. "My apologies, but I don't accept money for-"
"Is there something I can help you with?" At your words, the group looked over and Sapi, who had been trying to refuse some berri the orange-haired woman was offering him, visibly relaxed.
"Nothing is the matter, this group was just leaving." He answered and looked at them to see if they got the hint. The woman sighed in defeat and pocketed her cash. You looked over at the two young men leant against the railing staring into the restaurant below, they were very excited and looked as if they hadn't eaten a proper meal for a few days.
With your mind set, you glanced over at the time, then straightened up and smiled. "You know what? It's seven, so I believe we might have a booth available if that's suitable for your needs?"
She smiled and breathed out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, here-"
You held up a hand before she could reach into her pocket. "Save that for your meal." With a quick nod to Sapi, you stepped aside and gestured toward the staircase. "Follow me." The man with green hair and three swords rubbed you the wrong way almost the second you laid eyes on him, and you could tell he felt the same way. It was almost a sense of mutual familiarity. But you broke off eye contact to lead the rest of this strange, rambunctious crew further into the Baratie. "The Baratie was established by our current owner Zeff, and we recently celebrated our tenth anniversary."
The boy in the straw hat gawked at everything he saw and heard you say, and smiled brightly. "This place looks like it serves good food!"
That brought a smile to your face. "It does," You said as you guided them to their booth amidst other pirates and similar rough-looking guests. "And I don't just say that because my boyfriend's the sous chef."
"Are you sure about that?" The guy in a pirate costume asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and laughing along with his young friend.
You smiled along and shook your head. "I'll let you guys get settled in and will return in about five minutes with a menu. Please enjoy the music." With a few friendly waves and a "see you in a bit!" from the straw hat boy, you turned and walked toward the back of the room to collect a few menus.
Suddenly, the door slammed open and your boyfriend appeared looking more than a bit annoyed. You didn't even think he was on the line tonight, but your attention was drawn to two men who had began to cause a bit of a ruckus. You weren't close enough to hear what was being said, but you tucked the menus under your armpit and darted toward the pair that were now being consoled by Sanji. "...we don't waste food, and there's no fighting at the Baratie." You slowed your walk toward them and continued at a crawl. The man you had served not that long ago was dealing with a rowdy pirate. You heard something that sounded like a threat and Sanji spoke up again, his voice cutting through the argument before it had the chance to escalate. "And I'd like to pour you each a glass of Ithürzburger Stein. On the house."
The pirate nodded. "Okay, I'll have that drink." His brows furrowed and his voice grew irrate. "After he apologies for his bad manners!"
"Over my dead body." That was certainly the wrong answer. With a growl, they both lunged for each other and you sped toward them, watching as Sanji, in a blur, flipped over the table and kicked each of them.
The pink haired man grunted and got back up on his feet, drawing his gun but then froze when he felt something cold dig into his back. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." You warned, shoving your own gun into his back and whispered in his ear. "Drop it." Like the coward he was, he did and you effortlessly slammed the butt of your weapon into his temple - knocking him out cold.
You motioned for a nearby waitress to deal with the unconscious men, then snapped your attention to Sanji who picked up his plate of scones and continued his walk. "No cause for alarm, folks. Please, enjoy your meals." He called out and you quickly pocketed your gun back into your thigh-holster, smoothing out your dress and turning to the waitress who had arrived at your side.
After gesturing for her to take them out the back door, you readjusted yourself and quickly walked up to Sanji's side who's forced smile made you tilt your head in confusion. He shook his head, he didn't want to talk about it just yet. You both made the few steps over to the table you had just seated and, despite his mood, he set down the plate with his usual grace. "Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?" While he spoke, you placed down some menus and tried to ignore the straw hat boy who was currently stuffing his face full of our complimentary scones.
The woman grabbed a menu from you with a smile, but the others had their eyes locked onto Sanji. "One of everything, please!" The straw hat boy called out without taking a look at the menu you had walked twenty feet in high heels to collect.
"Any drinks?" Your boyfriend offered as he shoved his hands into his pocket, unconsciously looking for his packet of smokes that you knew he couldn't light. You briefly wondered if you should offer him a smoke break to calm him down. "One of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?"
"Giving us the hard sell, huh?" She asked as she slowly lowered her menu and you found it increasingly harder not to smack the blond.
And, as usual, his entire demeanour changed. "Apologies, madam. I didn't see you there. Would you care for an aperitif to start? We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock. Or perhaps you'd like a glass of Umeshu? You know, something sweet-" He winked. "-for someone sweet."
"Something wrong with your eye?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.
You cleared your throat. "No, but there is something wrong with his head if he thinks he can flirt with another girl in front of his girlfriend."
That garnered a few giggles, snickers and mock gasps from the table. Sanji chuckled and turned to you. "I hope I'm not in the doghouse tonight?" He pulled you in and gave you a quick kiss on your cheek, but you waved him off.
"We'll see." You shot him a not-so-serious warning look and focused back on the table. "Sorry about that, did I hear you were after some drinks?"
The green-haired male looked you up and down, faint recognition in his eyes as he cleared his throat. "Can I get a beer and something for my friends?"
The pirate-costumed man spoke up. "Two beers. I usually have three, but-"
"And a milk!"
You scribbled down their orders, and Sanji's hand crept around your waist. "Three beers and a milk. And, uh, for madam?"
"Water."
"Still, sparking, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"
You stopped writing and slowly looked up to your boyfriend. "...Taken, Sanji." You reminded him and he stared back at you innocently.
Even the woman leaned back in confusion. "Regular water, in a regular glass. Thanks."
"Right away." He said with a wistful expression, and with the roll of your eyes, you dragged him away before he made a further fool of himself.
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AN: Sorry about ending it there, but it was getting WAY too long and I figured it'd be easier to break it up into multiple pieces rather than having one solid chunk of 12k words. Or however long this fic ends up being. I'm actually kinda digging it, so I may continue to write it for a while! Also, I have no idea how old Sanji is meant to be in this universe? According to the internet (and the massive reddit fight I accidentally spawned) it's a tossup between 19 and 26 (OP Sanji's vs the actor's actual age.)
I also hope you appreciate the word-puns. I don't know why but I really enjoy writing them and love to include them in my writing-
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