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explorevenus · 3 months

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baby steps ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 5k

description: moving to raccoon city with leon, your long-term boyfriend and childhood sweetheart, doesn't go as planned. while you consider moving back home to lick your wounds, leon conspires to keep you right by his side, where you were always meant to be.

tags/warnings: yandere!leon kennedy, specifically rookie cop leon, squishy soft dom leon, manipulation and generally toxic behavior, baby trapping (via tampering w condoms), daddy kink, praise kink, pet names, no use of y/n, fingering, p in v, creampie, cockwarming, mention of vomiting

a/n: this piece was commissioned by #1 Soft Dom Rookie Leon Truther and My Feral Puppy Wife @nexysworld ,, pls pls check out her work, she's so very talented and sweet and i am lucky to call her a friend ;w; <33

hopefully if u made it this far u read the tags and know what ur in for, but out of an abundance of caution i would like to reiterate that this is a yandere!leon fic and therefore contains dark themes a la dubious/uninformed consent and unhealthy relationship dynamics. if that's a no-no for u, pls kindly move on and take care of urself !!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

Leon had it all figured out from the day he met you, the first day of kindergarten. The two of you were going to be just like the movies, just like the storybooks– you would grow up as friends, blossom into lovers, marry young and start a family, and everything would be exactly as it should be. He would have fulfilled his purpose, and you would have fulfilled yours. All would be right in the universe.

And he wasn’t exactly far off, for a long time. You were attached at the hip through elementary school, somehow managed to stay friends through middle school and after an awkward, smitten kiss shared in the empty auditorium, you began dating in high school. It was perfect, he thought. He didn’t even have to pull that many strings.

You went to prom, got drunk for the first time, learned to drive, all in each other’s company. You had each other’s virginity. You’d seen, touched and savored every inch of each other. There was almost nothing you didn’t share.

It wasn’t too long after graduation that Leon applied to begin training at the police academy, just like he’d always dreamed of. It was a solid profession with plenty of benefits for both of you and it would give him the opportunity to help people, ticking off all the boxes of what he wanted for himself. It was perfect, it was safe.

No one was surprised when he soared through the police academy with impeccable marks. You were such a little angel when he graduated, showering him with kisses and sweets and letting him pound you into the mattress for a whole weekend to celebrate. And when his application in Raccoon City was accepted, you did exactly as he hoped you would and you followed right along with him.

Of course you would follow right along. You didn’t know what life without Leon meant. You couldn’t even conceptualize what that would feel like and you had no intention of finding out, but that was fine by him. He was happy to be your rock, your guidance, your big, strong boyfriend who would hold your hand and follow you through everything.

With Leon, you would never be alone. You would never be far from home. After all this time, he was your home, exactly as your lives were designed.

For the first few months of living in Raccoon City, the two of you shared a cozy apartment. It was a little worse for wear, but it was cute, and it was a fun way to start your adventure into young adulthood together. He was happy to handle all of the spiders and quadruple check the locks every night if it made you feel safer, if it gave you an excuse to come crying to him like a beautiful angel whenever you were frightened.

Bumps in the night, creaks of the pipes, the skittering of the upstairs neighbor’s little dog, they all sent you folding into his arms, shaking like a leaf, crying for him to protect you. He was your knight, and God were you his perfect little princess. The apple of his eye, the one and only object of his affection. No, not his affection, his obsession.

You were all he thought about, day and night, for more than half of his 21 years of living. Everything he did, every breath he took was with you in mind. You were the only living manifestation of complete and total perfection, every inch of you crafted with care and divinity. Your lives fit together like puzzle pieces– hell, your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. You were meant for each other.

It wasn’t long after you moved that the job you had lined up fell through, and you were left reeling. Moving away from home just to fall flat on your face was a massive blow to your self esteem, especially considering your parents practically screamed a hole through the phone at you about it. The next few days were spent sulking around the apartment, trying to pick up the pieces and choose a completely different path for yourself.

And there was Leon to hold you while you cried. To make dinner every night and dote on you endlessly, to pamper you with gifts and to insist over and over that he could make rent on his own, that he didn’t mind if you needed a little more time to wallow before finding a job… and to console you when your search for employment would prove fruitless once again.

He was there to tell you it wasn’t your fault, that the job market was just rough right now and that no matter what, he would be there to take care of you.

Weeks stretched into months and you still felt like you were spinning out, even with Leon by your side. Every single day was beginning to feel the same and you didn’t know what to do, all you knew was that you couldn’t imagine living the rest of your life like this. Something had to give and Raccoon City clearly wasn’t it.

Leon came home with a big smile on his face, just like any other day, but today was extra special. He’d finally had his one year review at the police station, and he was getting a sizable raise. He couldn’t wait to tell you he was gonna get you out of this shitty apartment and into somewhere nicer. He couldn’t wait to sneak his way down to the jeweler in search of a ring. The storybook life he had laid out for you was coming to fruition right before his eyes.

But you were quiet over dinner, and you looked exhausted. You wouldn’t even meet his eyes as you picked at your plate.

He was just about to ask you what was wrong when you finally spoke up, “I-I think I need to move back home with my parents.”

Silence. He felt like he had been shot.

“It’s just that… I know you said you’re happy to take care of bills and everything, but I just feel terrible every day being a burden and I think I need a chance to figure things out and get back up on my feet. I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life anymore.”

His expression fell and his heart ached, any and all excitement he had about his situation now gone in an instant. All the money in the world meant nothing to him if he couldn’t share it with you, and to see you so lost and scared made him feel like he fucking failed you, his poor, sweet princess who looked to him for purpose and protection and partnership.

Leon wasn’t stupid. He knew that allowing you to move back in with your parents could potentially be a death sentence to your relationship. When people aren’t around each other anymore, it’s only natural that they drift apart, and Leon could not let that happen. It wasn’t even an option in his brain. Something had to be done and something had to be done now, before your lease was up in a few months, before push came to shove and you would finally have to make your choice.

He wasn’t even really sure where he got the idea. It wasn’t something he’d ever considered before, mostly because he didn’t think he’d ever be put in this position.

A few nights after that conversation, Leon couldn’t sleep. It was well past two in the morning and you were peacefully asleep beside him while he stared at the ceiling, entirely lost in thought. He witnessed the worst and darkest of humanity at work every single day, but nothing scared him as deeply as the idea of losing you.

Eventually he got out of bed as carefully as he could manage, not wanting to wake you with his troubles. He only planned to get some water and maybe a minute or two of fresh air to clear his mind, but what he didn’t plan to get was some inspiration.

You had asked him to stop at the store on his way home from work to pick up a few things you needed, and the bag was still sitting on the counter. He took it upon himself to grab a few things he needed, too, and among the items left in the bag was an unopened box of condoms. At first his eyes skimmed over it without much interest, but it wasn’t long before he froze where he stood and turned to look at the bag again.

Leon wasn’t sure what came over him. He didn’t really feel like himself, it was like he was watching his next moves from a third person perspective, hovering above, detached. For a moment he even wondered if he was sleepwalking, or if this was a dream. He stared down at the box in his hand, carefully opened it, and pierced a hole in the center of each and every one. He tucked the packets back into the box and brought it with him on his way back to the bedroom, stashing it in the usual spot in the bedside table.

On his side, of course.

He tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t help but just watch you. You were so pretty, so peaceful when you were dreaming, such a nice contrast to the stress and insecurity over finding your life’s purpose that plagued you in your waking hours.

But Leon already knew your life’s purpose. He reached out, gently brushing your messy hair away from your sleepy face so he could admire you more fully, and all he could think about was how much happier you’d look with a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly. Maybe an unexpected nudge in the right direction would set you back on the correct path and make you come to your senses about moving back in with your parents.

You huffed out a sleepy little breath from between your plush lips, stirring in the bed and peeking open your eyes to look at him. It was clear you weren’t fully conscious yet, but you were trying, squirming closer to him to tuck yourself into his chest.

“W’time is it?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

He smiled fondly, petting your hair and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you cuddled up to him like a sweet little baby bear, and he tried to pretend he hadn’t accidentally made himself hard as fuck thinking about knocking you up just to get you to stay with him. Somewhere deep down, he knew it was gross, he knew it was wrong, he knew it could violate your trust in so many ways.

But Leon was nothing if not a yearner, a hopeless romantic who couldn’t bear the thought of life without you by his side. He’d done everything right by you and you were still straying away from him, and that just wouldn’t do. It’s an act of desperation, he thought to himself, justifying his actions into the ground, I just want her so badly I’m not thinking straight, all pleas for forgiveness he would store for later use.

“It’s late, baby,” He mumbled into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

You just shook your head and tightened your arms around him, clearly on the verge of dozing off again. Perhaps if the circumstances were different, he would have just let you, but he wouldn’t be awake in the first place if it weren’t for the extreme sense of urgency he felt.

His broad, warm hands engulfed you, one cradling the back of your head while the other rubbed your lower back, tapering off to paw at your hip. Your shirt– well, his shirt– had ridden up nearly to your waist, baring your cute panties, your soft belly and your plush thighs to his gaze. He swiped the pad of his thumb along your hip, imagining your bone structure spreading open to make room for his growing baby.

Leon didn’t take the time to talk himself out of it before his fingertips were sneaking down between your legs, slipping beneath your panties and finding your clit with practiced ease. The sensation was enough to jerk you awake again, a quiet mewl tumbling from your lips as you rocked into his hand, so sleepy and out of it and just so very cute.

“Leon?” Your voice was thick with sleep, but airy and light with sudden onset desire. That was all he needed to know he had you right where he wanted you.

“Shh, shh, you’re alright,” He cooed softly, following up the soothing whispers with a few gentle nibbles and bites to the shell of your ear, knowing that such attention always melted you into a puddle. “You’re alright, pretty baby, I just wanna play with you. Can daddy play with his sweet angel?”

You squirmed in his hold for a second, pondering his proposition while barely awake, but it wasn’t long before you were nodding into his shoulder and peppering his collarbone with wet kisses in return. It never took much to convince you when he spoke to you like that, so adoring and saccharine.

“That’s my good girl,” He mused, invigorated by your consent. Almost instantaneously he became more heavy-handed with his touches, fingertips massaging firm, purposeful circles around your clit, occasionally dipping down to collect your growing arousal and bring it back with him. “You’re all mine, you know that? Never gonna let anyone else have my baby.”

Poor you. Clueless of his intentions, you interpreted that sentence in a much different way than he really meant it. But, ignorance is bliss, and what you felt right now was nothing short of blissful.

You poked your head up just to catch his lips with your own in a wanton grasp for more intimacy, a signal of your agreement, like you were giving yourself to him. He knew it was wrong that you didn’t fully realize what you were agreeing to, but again, he compartmentalized that, deciding that was a problem for his future self. What mattered right now was securing your place at his side for the rest of your lives.

He could feel the way your hips were stuttering, he could feel how short your breaths were becoming against his lips, and he knew you were getting close. Grunting into your mouth, he forced his hand further down your panties and sank two thick fingers into your hole, stretching you open for him. The intrusion was quite a bit less gentle than you were used to from him, drawing a shocked whimper from you, but you soon began to relax once more when he curled up into your sweet spot, sending you boneless.

“D-Daddy,” You whined, nails biting into his shoulders. “Hurts… Slow, slower…”

A shiver rolled over his body, that of immediate guilt. He knew he was being a little rough with you, and he certainly didn’t want to hurt you, but…

“Fuck, I can’t help it,” He groaned, “Been thinking about this pussy all night, princess, I need you like air…”

You could hear the desperation in his tone, and even more you could feel it in the way he touched you like he was starving, like he was stranded in the desert and you were an oasis. Softened by this– and entirely hypnotized by his praise– you resigned to the feeling, allowing him to play with your body as he pleased. He was rutting into nothing without even thinking about it, his cock woefully hard and straining against the front of his grey sweatpants.

He wanted to prepare you properly, he really did, but he was so revved up and needy, he didn’t want to risk blowing his load anywhere but inside you. That wasn’t an option. Hands shaking, he pulled away from you just long enough to kick his sweatpants off and reach for one of those condoms, silently resenting the fact that he had to wear one at all, but he had an appearance to keep up.

He tore the package open haphazardly with his teeth and rolled the condom on, shuddering deeply. His grasp was tight on your thigh as he pulled it up and over his hip, his other hand pushing your dainty purple panties aside to guide his cock into the heavenly, pillowy walls of your ethereal cunt.

Fuck, you were so fucking tight, clenching around him, whimpering and whining and writhing like a perfect little puppy in heat. Leon’s teeth sank into your shoulder as he bottomed out in you, and he almost could have sworn he felt the tip of the condom rip open even wider. The image alone had him moaning like an animal, pinning your quivering body to his own while he rolled his hips, fucking you deep and hard and slow, savoring every single stroke of your slippery walls around his aching cock. Every meeting of your hips was joined by obscene squelching with the way you were practically sucking him in.

“G-God, fuck,” Leon growled, his face contorted with pleasure. You and Leon had always had what you considered to be an active and healthy sex life, but you’d never seen him quite so beside himself with raw lust. Whatever drove him in that moment was primal, and you could feel it in his every movement, his every breath, see it in the wild look in his eyes.

His pupils were like dinner plates as he gazed down at you, stamping your forehead with kisses and feeling over every inch of your body. “Look at you, just look at you… Such a perfect little dolly for daddy to love on forever and ever, huh? Oh, my princess…”

You were lightheaded with arousal, every nerve ending in your body lighting up with white hot pleasure. You could barely even form a sentence, just nodding along as he moaned out his praise and letting him manhandle you like a ragdoll. Perhaps his words had more than a modicum of truth to them.

“F-Feels so… so… fuck, daddy, feels so good,” You babbled mindlessly, head falling back to the pillows beneath you. He was overwhelming your senses, taking over every corner of your mushy brain. The room was dark and you were still a bit delirious with sleep and to that effect, nothing existed in your world right now but daddy, daddy, daddy…

He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the spot on your shoulder he’d so harshly bitten earlier, the pace of his thrusts not faltering for a second. “Yeah? I’ll bet it does, judging by the look on you,” He teased, nipping at your throat. “So pretty when you’re all fucked out.”

Your back was arching up off the bed, your eyes rolling back and your walls pulsing around him. Addicted to eliciting pleasured reactions from you, Leon wedged one hand between your two bodies, flattening his palm on your lower belly before pressing down.

Stars. You saw stars. A broken, high-pitched cry ripped from your throat, and you didn’t even have the capacity to hope the neighbors didn’t think you were being murdered, because you didn’t care. You could feel every rigid inch of him inside you, dragging over every nerve, his cock stuffed so deep that you swore you could feel him in your throat. Toes curling and your nails raking down his naked back, tears were beginning to prick at your eyes– you were close.

That was a good thing, though, considering he was too, and he could only hope the wet heat of your release would mask the feeling of his own. Leon sealed his lips over your own once more, swallowing your broken, needy cries as he fucked you to completion, letting his hand fall a little bit lower until his fingertips were on your clit again.

Your body twitched at the stimulation, thighs clamping down tight around his hips as you sobbed into his mouth and soaked his cock with your gushing sex. “Daddy,” You wept, clinging to him for dear life as he fucked you through your high, his own spilling out in sync. “Daddy, daddy, daddy…”

“Shh, I’ve got you, baby, I’m right here,” He cooed, taking your bottom lip playfully between his teeth before pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. “Just stay put, you’re doing so good for me, angel…”

His hips continued to piston forward as he hoped to force as much of his cum into you as he could manage, while still maintaining the believable illusion of protection. He intended to put every last one of those tampered-with condoms to use, though he wondered silently to himself if you might give up and just let him take you raw once you were to inevitably find out you’re pregnant.

You were a weeping, shivering mess in his arms, thighs clenching and twitching around him as he shushed you and babied you, petting your hair away from your tear-stained face and stamping you with delicate kisses, still stuffing his cum into you with shallow thrusts. He couldn’t wait to see you blossom right before his eyes. He couldn’t wait for you to realize your purpose was right here with him. He couldn’t wait to have you to himself for the rest of your days, his princess.

Leon remained sheathed deep within you, even as he softened, wanting to make sure you stayed plugged up well. But, he also couldn’t resist the warmth and wetness of you, how comforting it felt to be enveloped by you.

“You just stay put right there, okay, princess?” He reiterated quietly, lips brushing over your brow in a loving kiss. “Want you to keep daddy warm for the rest of the night. Can you do that for me?”

As if he even had to ask. You would have done practically anything for him when reduced to such a bleary, agreeable state of mind. He knew you all too well.

You just nodded like a bobblehead, dreamy, doe eyes staring up at him through teary lashes, hanging off his every word like gospel. He tucked you in even closer to his chest, cradling you with such adoration, his hips rocking forward every now and then just to get a reaction out of you, and to remind himself this was real.

He wasn’t at all surprised that you were able to fall asleep like that, stuffed full of cum and sated like a good little princess deserved to be. In a perfect world, you would never have to move again, just stay there in his lap forever and soak up every drop of him you could take.

In the coming weeks, that box of condoms wouldn’t last long. The only thought on his mind day in and day out was bending you over every surface in the apartment, and you thought nothing of it. Of course you noticed his sudden, insatiable lust for you, but you assumed it was a symptom of knowing his beloved girlfriend was just a few short months away from potentially leaving. He was only grasping at every inch of you he could commit to memory, right?

In all fairness to you, you weren’t exactly that far off.

Your tired eyes pried open at the familiar feeling of Leon rutting up against you, gripping at your hips like you would disappear if he didn’t. The morning sun was just barely beginning to peek through the windows and the bed was warm, it was a lovely way to wake up, one you would never get tired of.

Or at least you never thought you would. You loved Leon— and his sexual prowess— very dearly, but you also loved being able to sleep through an entire night without interruption, and you hadn’t been getting much of that over the past several weeks.

“Mnh… Leon, babe,” You grumbled, burying your face back into your pillow. “Not today. I’m exhausted.”

He was taken aback by this at first, and then his expression fell with disappointment. Leon had gotten so used to breeding you dumb every morning before work that he wasn’t confident he could go back to functioning without it. Regardless, Leon knew that continuing his attempt to seduce you while you were this grouchy would be a death sentence, so he opted to take the path of least resistance.

After the moment or two it took for him to process that decision, Leon’s touches quickly shifted from provocative to soothing– he was no longer grasping at your hips but wrapping you up in his arms, pressing gentle kisses to your temple and cheekbone as if to regain your good favor.

You hummed contentedly, relaxing back into his embrace. Leon always warmed up like a heater in the night, and you were more than happy to bask in it. His muscular frame was like a weighted blanket and his presence alone was usually enough to knock you out like a light, but for some reason, you were struggling to fall back asleep. Every second felt like five minutes and despite your best efforts– and your complete and utter exhaustion– sleep refused to reclaim you.

Biting back the urge to blame Leon for waking you up in the first place, you huffed out a breath and rolled over in his arms, hoping the change in position might be just what you needed.

Wrong. Very, very wrong. Something about the movement made you dizzy, nauseous, your stomach twisting into knots. You wanted to say something, but you weren’t even sure what to say. It came on so suddenly that it caught you off guard and you weren’t even fully confident you would be able to get up at first.

You whined his name quietly, nuzzling into his chest and wrenching your eyes shut in an attempt to reorient yourself, your arms closing around your middle instinctively.

“You alright? What’s the matter?” Your sweet boyfriend asked quietly, brows furrowing with concern. He could feel your body trembling against his own, your back rising and falling with short, shallow breaths.

Now it was your throat tightening, too, and the second your mouth started to flood with saliva, you knew what was about to happen. Leon didn’t stop you when you writhed out of his embrace and stumbled out of bed, depending on muscle memory alone to get yourself to the bathroom with how woozy and ill you felt.

You just barely made it to the toilet in time to vomit. The cold tile felt nice on your knees, but the impact, not as much. It wasn’t long before Leon materialized at your side with a glass of water and a cold washcloth to hold over your forehead, rubbing your back and already silently conspiring to call out of work and give his poor, sick angel the princess treatment all day.

You collapsed back into his chest with a deep shudder, reaching for the water in a desperate attempt to wash the taste of bile from your mouth. He ended up grabbing it for you, raising it to your cracked lips and helping you take slow, measured drinks.

“There you go, pup,” He hummed, rocking you gently in his lap, his poor little darling princess. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”

Your eyes fluttered closed, a sense of relief washing over you at last. Maybe you just caught a bug, or ate something your body didn’t agree with, or your stress and exhaustion were finally catching up to you. Surely you would feel better within a few days.

“I’m okay,” You whispered, reaching for his hand and squeezing it affectionately. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

Leon smiled, a burst of warmth spreading through his chest. You couldn’t possibly imagine what that meant to him, considering he chose to interpret it in whatever way felt most validating. After all, no one could take care of you like Leon could, and they wouldn’t have the chance to try, anyway. Not over his dead body.

Stooping down to kiss the crown of your head, Leon’s every word was thick with syrupy sweetness, “My baby, I would be so lost if I didn’t. Taking care of you is like breathing to me.”

And he meant every part of it. He didn’t just mean it, he showed it. He showed it when he held your hair back, and he showed it when you realized you couldn’t even remember when you’d had your last period. He showed it when you sent him to the drugstore in the middle of the night for pregnancy tests, and he showed it when you broke down crying at the results, wondering how this could have happened.

His favorite part was showing it when you tearfully called your parents and told them you were staying in Raccoon City, not because you had found a job, but because you were pregnant.

“I can’t believe they’re choosing to react like this, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. They should be happy for you, and it’s awful that they’re anything but happy for you,” He said, voice low and soothing, tone purposeful. “I’ve got you, princess. I’ve got you. I’m gonna take good care of you and this baby, and we’re gonna be happy. Alright?”

Leon tipped your chin up with his knuckle, making you look at him. Your cheeks were red and your eyes were puffy with tears, droplets still clinging to your little dolly eyelashes.

It was hard not to believe him when he spoke with such conviction, when he looked at you with those rich blue eyes that bled from an endless well of love. The pad of his thumb skimmed over your pouty bottom lip as you unknowingly submitted to his grand design.

#venustext #sintext #resident evil #leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy #dark!leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #dark!leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you

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jaketsparrow · 4 months

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SOMETHING... | JTK

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 10.6K

Summary: When you have to say goodbye to your professor and mentor, a cocky young professor steps in, Jacob Kiskza. Literature used to be your safe place, but now you feel him getting involved in every corner; it doesn’t help that you’re his TA. You deny yourself every opportunity to fall for him until…

A/N: Hi guys :) I know it’s been forever since I’ve put something together and I apologize about that, but this is life. This one has been on my mind since the Grammy U interview and I finally had the idea to put it all together. I hope you enjoy :)

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*Also I'm so sorry I lost my tag list so if you want to be tagged here's a new form* Taglist

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Sexual content (of course), talks about death/grief, angst, swearing, Dom! Jake, restraints, possible orgasm denial, choking, alcohol use, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, ~some~ degrading, praise kink!, I’m sorry if I missed anything, but, etc, it’s filth.

The classroom was cold in the early months of the year. You had gotten in the habit of wearing your coat through the 3-hour seminar. You were lucky that this class only ran once a week, but you often had to stay longer than the students, working with the professor for a few hours afterward. He was always elusive. Always eager to get things done as fast as possible; efficient and snappy.

There was much to admire about him, but his personality often left you rolling your eyes. He always seemed a bit too sure about himself, always being the tough grader, pushing students further than they were willing to go. He cared a lot, especially about the subject matter. He still had that gusto in him to do things right, to be stern.

He was new to the program; and before this, only about a year into teaching. You studied under his predecessor. She was a kinder old woman who cared deeply for you, like your mother away from home. She taught you everything- and even got you to change majors during your sophomore year. She supplemented your reading supplies, nurtured your abilities, and was always willing to sit in deep conversation with you. Discussing the classics, introducing modern pieces, talking about life, talking about it all.

Professor Kiszka on the other hand…

When he took over for Professor Meelo, he took very little time to rip the bandaid off. When you had originally been promised a TA position in the literature department, you were expected to be under your mentor, not a cocky white man.

You spent weeks crying during winter break after first meeting him. The day you met him didn’t go exactly as you hoped. It was the week of finals when you found out Meelo was sick, and that she was stepping away from teaching. As if finals week wasn’t stressful enough, you had to come to terms with the fact that the woman who taught you everything was going to be leaving this world sooner than you would’ve thought. It was even more of a punch in the gut to walk into your introduction meeting to see… him.

3 Months Ago

The walk across campus felt heavier than usual. The winter had been harsher than it usually was in early December. The wind whipped across your bare rosy cheeks, causing freezing tears to slowly fall out of the corners of your eyes. Almost like a bad omen, the weather continued to get worse as you sludged your way across the quad.

The parking lot was nearly a mile away from campus, which was nice during the warmer months; the trees would sway across the crosswalk, blessing the sidewalk with fallen flowers and leaves. The grass was green and lively, a welcome mat onto a wonderful learning home. Between the cracks of the stone walkways, little dandelions would grow. You never understood the people who thought them to be unnecessary weeds. They were bright and yellow lively plants, and when the time of beauty passed, they passed their good wishes onto you. Blowing what once were vibrant petals into the wind. Who knew you’d miss the weeds on your walks?

Instead, now the stones were smeared with remnants of snowy footprints, broken earth that had been cracked through with the force of shovels, and the remnants of the dead earth.

Meelo called you just last week. You begged to go see her in the hospital, but she didn’t want you to worry too much. She agreed to call you every other day, just like your usual coffee arrangements. She loved them just as much as you did. She never had a husband or any children. Her students were her children, her soul was fed enough through changing lives that she didn’t want to take away that love from her students or prevent any child from feeling all of it. You were not the first to bear their soul in her office, but you might be one of the last.

Meelo begged you to go meet the new professor. You had tried to rescind your TA position, but she blocked you at every chance she got. Even while in hospice she still managed to look out for you…

“Please, sweetheart. I know it’s not easy. But he’s young, he’s smart, I think you’ll have a lot in common with him,” She pleaded through the phone.

“But he’s not you. I just, I thought… I thought I’d have more time…” Your voice trailed off.

You tried to hold the phone away from your face, trying not to distress her more with the sounds of your whimpers and tears.

Her voice started again, “You never know what you will learn from him. You have more time with me, but there comes a time when a teacher must share her students for them to learn more. If we stayed in our echo chamber together my dear I’m afraid you wouldn’t learn everything you need to know. Jacob is going to be a great professor, and I know you will learn a lot from him. His research and analysis work is quite extensive. The school and I hired him for a reason. Please. Just give it a try. For me.”

“Just for you.”

And here you were trudging through, feeling every bone in your body telling you to turn around, to go home. But you were doing this not for you, you reminded yourself. For Meelo. She was right, you latched on to her from your early years in college and favored her over all of your other professors. They were kind and nice as well, but it didn’t matter to you in the end, if they weren’t Meelo, they were never going to compare.

The building seemed colder than usual. The large glass windows were covered by their shades; no one wanted to see the gross state of life outside of the classroom. That’s hardly motivating to any student, the fluorescents would give more life than the grey state of the weather.

You pull the door open, walk through the entryway, and follow your usual path down the hallway to Meelo’s room.

The thing about old colleges, everywhere you turn is a little piece of history. Each room has housed many professors and many students. The building had life, had ghosts of its own hidden in each brick, in each stone. You felt the comfort of this presence moving through the hallway.

You stop right before Meelo’s room, catching your breath before you enter. Trying to have an open mind. Kiszka could be something, or he could just be another man throwing words at you. Not that all men were the same, but a majority of the male professors here were lackluster, favoring the male students and the athletes who needed the better grades to stay in the school. And if they favored the women… You always felt a cold chill thinking about that. Thinking about why…

One last deep breath before you enter the classroom. You grab tight onto the handle of your tote bag and strut confidently into the room.

It was empty.

The beautiful artwork and posters that Meelo had filling the room were stripped. Revealing the natural state of the architecture. It was beautiful in its own way but didn’t feel like the educational home you once felt so blessed to be in. The desks were all shoved to one side of the classroom. The previous welcoming U-shape was demolished, instead providing a cluttered destruction of Meelo’s work.

You stood awestruck in the shape of the room. There was no time wasted between Meelo leaving and Kiszka starting to make his mark on the room. The bookshelves that used to be filled in the back of the room had been emptied and their contents sat on the floor in boxes.

You walk over to the boxes, kneeling to gently sift through the carelessly placed books. This was Meelo’s library that she had collected for the classroom. Take a book, leave a book, borrow a book, bring it back. You loved visiting this wall every week, seeing what books your peers were interested in, and which books made their way into the library. Some new, and some returning after long months away.

Sitting on top of the box was the classic “Brave New World”. Aldous Huxley. 1932. Not an original copy, but a new binding. It was like the universe was sending you signs. This would be a brave new world. A world where you might have to come to terms with the fact that Meelo would not be in your life forever. A world where you might have to figure out everything with a new mentor. A world where you thought you would have years to work on your pieces with a woman who understood you, but now you would turn over your heartfelt pieces to a man. One who may not understand you the same as someone else does.

“A favorite of yours?” A voice perks up from the doorway.

You turn to see him. Your eyes work your way up his figure. He’s wearing Chelsea boots, black thick linen pants, a white loose shirt with a black vest, and a dress coat over it. His chestnut hair lays over the shoulders of the coat, and his eyes are covered by circular gold-rimmed sunglasses. He oozes mystery. His arms crossed, surveying your crouched body by the boxes. You hate to admit it, but he may be one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen.

You hold up the book towards him, displaying the cover.

“Not particularly. I don’t like thinking about the takeover of technology. It feels too real right now.” You respond.

He wanders over to you, taking his time, each step creating the most annoying echo in the emptied classroom. He reaches his hand out to yours, asking silently for the book. You hand it over to him and stand to match his level.

He passes the book between his hands, admiring the binds, “Ah, yes, but perhaps something can be learned from the book if more understood its warning… if only more read it…”

“If only…” You let the conversation trail off. Your eyes wander back to the pile of desks on the opposite wall. You feel yourself zoning out, focused only on the change of the room, not on the man in front of you.

“-Your favorite?” He asks.

You snap back to the conversation, trying to recall the beginning of his question, “I’m sorry?

“If this is not your favorite, can I ask which is?” He waves you to walk with him.

You follow him into the office at the back of the classroom. He sits in Meelo’s chair, and you sit in the chair that had held you so many times. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cushion had a you-shaped imprint in it at this point.

He asks a third time, “You don’t seem like the Jane Eyre or Louisa May student, so what is it?”

You let your bag fall off your shoulder and you try to sit up in the chair, asserting some sort of professionalism. Your answer will hold some sort of judgment for him. Although you want to be offended by his comment about the female author’s classics, he’s right. They were never your favorite.

“Tess of the D’Urbervilles. Meelo gave it to me as my first assignment.” You respond, confident in your answer.

He nods in approval, “Lovely choice, very telling. Meelo said you were very bright–one for the classics.”

He leans back in his chair, stroking his chin. His hand reaches up to the gold-rims and pulls them off, clattering onto the desk. He pulls himself towards the desk, resting his elbows on the table.

“Are you going to ask me mine?” He asks, almost presumptuously.

You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, he has to find a way to be important here. You adjust yourself in your seat, crossing your arms in the process.

“If you want me to know, why don’t you just say it?” You retort.

He chuckles to himself, “Lord of the Rings.”

Your mouth falls so far open that you’re afraid a fly might buzz its way in. You lift your hand to your mouth and try to hide your disapproval.

“That’s a classic for sure.” You reply, “Not one I would’ve expected from a college literature professor, but a classic nonetheless.”

He pushes himself off the desk, running his hands through his long locks before they make their way onto the arms of the seat.

“You don’t approve?” He scoffs.

“I didn’t say that, I just said it’s not one that I would expect.”

“I believe there is a difference between a personal and professional favorite. A favorite you could read over and over again, and you could enjoy without having to think too much about what it all means. it’s an adventure, its heroes and legends, it’s a call for relaxation and enjoyment. I’d rather have my favorite be a well-known classic than a deep thought-provoking story about purity.”

You fight every urge in you to slap the man sitting before you for disgracing such a beautiful novel. But you think about Meelo. You think about stepping outside of the echo chamber.

“I think we may have different opinions on favorites, Professor Kiszka.” You say shortly.

You feel the tension grow between you already. This would be a difficult semester. Even more difficult because as you felt your dislike for him grow, you couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful man sitting in front of you. His brown eyes stared deep into you, trying to assess his new assistant. You tried not to let him in too far. You were not fawning for him, at least you weren’t trying to. You wanted to fight off the growing warmth crying to spread through you. It was like seeing a handsome stranger in the bar; you knew the danger, but almost didn’t want to let yourself protect your heart.

He was by far the youngest professor here, and the most eligible. No ring was on his finger.

“Please, call me Jacob.”

You stood up from your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder. You try to compose yourself enough not to let any distaste escape from your lips.

“Sorry, Professor Kiszka, I have finals I need to finish, it was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you in January. If you need anything from me before then, I believe the dean gave you my information.”

You reach your hand out awkwardly, trying to invite a handshake. He cautiously reaches his hand back, pulling you into a firm, but still gentle handshake.

His eyes meet yours. The deep brown staring into you. Although you should have the power from your standing position, you knew he held all the cards from his seat. The handshake lingered longer than you had expected, both of you locked deep into staring each other down. He finally releases his hand.

“It was a pleasure.” You start to leave the office, but he makes one last remark, “Oh, one last thing…”

You turn to face him, “Yes professor?”

He reaches into the desk and pulls out a cloth-bound book, handing it to you. You slowly return to the desk, taking the book from his hand—the Lord of the Rings.

“Try it for me? You do have a whole winter break…”

You rub your hands over the cover, smiling at his request. You place the book back in his hand.

“I used to read it as a child. No need to give it a try when you’ve read it four times already.” You smile at him.

Even if it wasn’t your favorite, didn’t mean it wasn’t a favorite.

Present

In some ways, your relationship with him felt like a love-lost marriage. Just moving through the motions. You sat in on the classes and took note of who engaged, and who didn’t. You graded assignments, tests, and papers, with him always double-checking and doubting your work. You didn’t sit in on long conversations with him like Meelo. Perhaps some of that was your fault, always quick to get to work. He adjusted to you quickly, understanding how you needed to work, and letting you grieve.

Meelo passed quickly into the semester. You cried once in front of him when the news broke. You nearly snapped his head off when he asked if he could help you. From that moment on he took on this cold persona, but you don’t blame him at all. You knew in your heart that you would not have the same connection with him as Meelo, so it was easier to never try.

Through everything, your work never faltered, and your school work remained the priority. Perhaps it was a way to hide through all the pain but the calculated steps it took to grade provided a soothing rhythm amongst the distress.

You never failed to notice all the times you caught him catching glances at you. You were silly to think that it meant anything more than just a quick look, but still maybe somewhere in your heart, you had hoped that maybe he was thinking of you more than his assistant. For weeks you watched him stroll into class, always wearing a disheveled but somehow put-together outfit. You loved seeing how he would piece together different clothes from his collection. Never repeating an exact outfit, but always finding new ways to repurpose the same items.

One day he walked in with a new addition to his look, a cluster of pendants on a necklace. They looked older, more worn in than any new silver. You asked him about it briefly, trying not to engage in a further conversation.

“They’re coins, Spanish coins, designed after ones from the 1600s. I think the jeweler lied to me when he said they were originals, but they still look okay… Do you think so?

“You look like a pirate.” You responded.

A sexy pirate. You shoved that thought deep into the back of your mind. Holding on to it, because you didn’t want to forget how good he looked.

His Thursday classes were always one of the better ones. This was one that you had to take yourself for your graduate program. There was no TA’ing involved as that would be a huge conflict of interest if you got to grade your papers. You chose to sit in the back corner of the class by the window, in hopes that when spring rolls around you could watch the foliage return. The unfortunate thing about this choice was the waiting. February was colder than you had expected and the windows provided no warmth.

When you were TA’ing you got to sit at the edge of the office and the classroom. Kiszka brought a space heater for you to place at the doorway. He joked he didn’t need his assistant ‘freezing to death’, because then ‘who would grade the papers’.

You tried your hardest to not let him favor you, but you knew he was someone who would be kind no matter how much you asked him to stop. He would leave books on the edge of his desk for you to read and when you tried to return them he declined and told you he already had a copy in his collection. You doubted that and always protested in fear that you thought you might lead him on. But in the end, it was always you walking out with a new book in your bag.

He was trying his hardest to get along with you. Some days it was easier and you would entertain his questions, but other days it was easier to be quick and move along. This relationship was not going to be a fairytale. You had already found your soulmate once, and you lost her. In your mind, there was no more room in your heart to let someone in. And why should you prepare space for someone if you truly don’t know if they want to be there?

This class although interesting became boring as the weeks went on. The class had fallen into a seasonal depression of sorts. Many like you had expected to have Meelo for the semester when you had booked your classes, so when Kiszka showed up and tried to shake things up… It wasn’t easy. He was skilled and smart, sure… But not the same. He craved involvement and wanted the class to join in with him, but often would push people further than they were willing to go. A room full of mid-20-year-olds was truly a space of burnout. Many of these students had already passed four, sometimes five years of school before they stepped into this class. They no longer have that lively interest in reading and analyzing literature but want to create their own.

“-And what was this author trying to convey through his use of metaphors?...” He asked from his commanding space at the front of the class, “No one?... No one picked up on this…? Or are you too scared to be wrong?”

Your attempts at fighting off eye-rolls also subsided the longer this course went on, and this roll came on hard. You’ve heard this line countless times through multiple classes. He wasn’t wrong, but he could at least find different ways to say the statement.

“Y/N? Care to enlighten everyone?” He calls to you, in need of saving the class who had lost attention nearly an hour ago.

“Sure. It’s a metaphor for how women are treated in society.” You answer.

He grits his teeth and sighs, “Not quite, but you’re close…”

You lift yourself from your slump, “No, that’s right. She is clearly trying to convey the expectations of women in society and how we are treated. As a female author, she leaves these metaphors to be very simple for female readers to understand. For males, it’s harder to grasp that the severity of these situations could imply the treatment of women, but that’s what she’s trying to explain.”

He clasps his hands together giving them a brief shake, “That class, that is how you analyze. Literature can be read in different ways by different readers. The author may have a clear intention of what they are trying to write, but others may be able to relate it to other aspects of their life. I have my own interpretation, and you all may have others. That is how this should be working. There is nothing wrong, with how you analyze, just that you have the knowledge to back it up…”

Every time you tried to make him out to be the bad guy, he ended up being in the right. You hated how smart he was. You hated how much you wanted to watch him while he stood up there. You hated how he wasn’t her. But you knew you didn’t want him to leave.

“So with that,” He continues, “Finish up the last few chapters and please come prepared with statements next week about your findings. I want you to dig deep; feel the author. I’ll see you next week.”

The class starts their shuffle for the door, while you meander to your usual spot at the doorway of the office. The next class wouldn’t be in for 20 minutes, but you would at least have time to warm up.

You click on the heater and walk over to Kiszka’s rolling desk chair. You take your coat off and rest it over the seat, pushing it over to the door. Kiszka finds his seat at the front of the classroom, pulling out his book of the week. He usually would try to follow you, asking you what you were reading, then the next day showing up to class with an identical copy. It was annoying and endearing how much he wanted to learn from you. You wondered if it upset him that you weren’t as keen on learning from him.

He confided in you that Meelo was an idol of his as well, and although he didn’t get to learn from her, he was going to try to through you.

You pull your copy of Anna Karenina from your bag and join him. Your chapters ahead of him, but you enjoy being one step in front of him.

You peep up from the back of the room, “I didn’t ask, but please tell me this isn’t your first time reading this.”

He lifts his head from the book slightly, eyes still skimming the page, “Third.”

You sigh in relief. That would’ve been embarrassing; for him.

You return to the book. You’re finding it harder to dive in today than usual, something is different… You see out of the corner of your eye that Kiszka has put down the book altogether, and you can sense him staring. This lasts a few moments, but you try to remain focused on the words, but catching yourself having to re-read the paragraphs; not processing the sentences you’ve already read.

A minute goes by and he hasn’t returned to his pages. Instead, you hear the squeak of his chair rolling over to his computer. A few clicks and a frenzy of taps on the keyboard.

“Hey.” He prods.

You look up again from the book. He peers at you over the edge of his computer and then closes it so he can see you better. He grasps his jaw lightly, stroking it in his hands.

“Yes?” You asked, trying not to seem annoyed by the interruption.

“Let’s go over your manuscript. I want to see it.” He continues.

No. It’s not time yet. You’ve been meticulously editing it for months now. He wasn’t supposed to read it until midterms, you were supposed to have more time…

You drop the book into your lap, “It’s not ready…” You close the book, “Also we have class in twenty minutes, you won’t be able to read it all by then.”

He stands up from his seat, straightening his vest out, “I canceled class. Pull it out.”

Two Hours Later

Some time had passed. You both sat in his office now. Him at… his… desk, and you still positioned by the heater at the door. At this point you were warm enough to finally take your sweater off, stripping down to a simple black t-shirt. You saw him staring through the pages when you pulled the sweater off. If he had looked any harder you think he might burn a hole through the book.

The office was silent except for the occasional click and clack of the heater, and the flickering of the candle on his desk. He flipped through the lightly bound pages while you continued through your reading. Every couple of minutes you could hear the stroke of his red pen hit the pages. The words or corrections will wait for you later. You could sit and scoff at them later in your apartment. The man said his favorite book was Lord of the Rings, how could you possibly trust his editorial judgment?

You had made it about a hundred or so pages through your book, which was slower than you would’ve liked. You still couldn’t breach the interferences. You thought the silence would help, but hearing his hums, his pen strokes, the occasional sip of scotch… It was all a distraction.

You couldn’t stop looking up from the book to watch him slyly admire your work. You knew your writing was good; Meelo had seen the early stages of it all. She heard the direction and loved every word… A complete sadness rushed over you thinking of how she would never see the final product.

Kiszka would adjust himself every few minutes; switching positions in his seat. You wanted to trust yourself enough not to look every time he shifted his hips, but those linen pants he loved so much left little to wonder about him. You had a closeness to him that you didn’t want to admit. As many differences as there were between you, there were just as many similarities. He was an outsider here; you could see that clearly. The other professors didn’t trust him because of his age- the students tried to walk all over him because of that too.

Even though you wanted to hate how pretentious he seemed, deep down you knew it was a facade to seem more studious to others. You saw the real him in glimpses. The kindness he offered to you that many others most likely wouldn’t have. Your youth and love for literature matched his perfectly, although you couldn’t always find the way to express it correctly. Your loyalty to Meelo prevented that at every chance.

Letting him read this manuscript was a big step that you didn’t fully even realize until he had reached the halfway point. You wanted to go and rip the pages out of his hand, throw them out the window, prevent him from seeing you too deeply… But something inside you needed to know what he thought of it.

Frustrated by your lack of progress, you lowered the book into your lap. You took this time to look around the room. It had changed so much since you had seen it back in December. Kiszka’s library had taken up the room, along with his record collection. When you would come by early in the morning to drop off the graded work, you would hear him playing some of it. Blues, rock, the classics. You never disturbed him during these times, it felt too intimate to interrupt. Instead, you would place the binder of essays on his classroom desk and scurry away before he could come to say hello.

You place your bookmark into the page opening. You calmly stand and place the book where you once sat. Quietly, you make your way over to his collection.

You see him peer up through the pages. Curious about your movements, watching you silently behind the manuscript.

You lower yourself to the floor, sifting through the jackets of the vinyls. Alphabetical. Of course. You make your way quickly through the a’s and land through the b’s. As cliche as it seems, you truly love Abbey Road, and of course, there it is front and center with the other Beatles albums. You pull it out from the shelf, removing the jacket carefully from the sleeve. You lift the vinyl out and place it on the record player. It’s a modern one, which feels very out of character for Kiszka. He always seemed like the type to randomly have every item of his be nothing newer than 20 years old.

You press play and lower the needle onto the music.

Come Together plays softly through the speakers. You turn to look back at him, seeing if there is any protest. Instead, he has the red pen out, slashing across the paper. You grit your teeth and try not to engage. You return to his collection, running your fingers along the remainder of the vinyl. The plastic tickles through your fingers, creating a click, click sound as each jacket releases from your hold.

Although you did want Kiszka to keep reading, you felt it was necessary to distract him, to try and persuade him to step away…

You continue from the vinyl collection, traipsing through the room. It’s like a library out of a movie, truly. You admired his office deeply and loved to gaze at it while he was lecturing. Sometimes when he was deep in his philosophy of literature speeches, you would lean back in the chair and try to read the book titles from afar. Your eyesight was good, but not good enough to make out the exact names of all of them. You never dared to peruse like this before, but this moment presented the perfect opportunity.

You were his captive for the remainder of his reading. Well… In all reality, you didn’t have to be here, but you didn’t dare leave that manuscript alone. It had been stored with you in your tote for the past month. You tried to take chunks of edits at a time, working through it yourself when you had time but didn’t want to share it with anyone until you felt that it was complete.

You tried to fight Kiszka off, but the notion of him canceling class meant that he found taking the time to do this very important…

The books that were displayed on these shelves were not the type of books that you would find at your local bookstore. They were older, worn in, some of them originals, even some you haven’t read yet. Maybe he did have some things that he could show you…

You make your way to the last set of bookshelves, rounding the back corner of the office. The last edge of the wall had his makeshift bar.

The liquor was all dark, amber-colored. Very manly, you thought to yourself. Bottles of whiskey and scotch lined the makeshift bar. Jack Daniels, Sazerac Rye, Macallan Double Cask… You recognized some of the labels.

Kiszka crept up behind you, “If you wanted a glass, you could’ve asked.”

He reaches down below you to fetch a rocks glass from the bar. He grabs the Macallan Double Cask and pours a finger for you. The alcohol flows effortlessly out of the bottle, barely splashing into the glass. He hands the glass to you, your hand brushing his. His touch is warm… Kind. He takes his other hand and grabs your shoulder, in a comforting way. You want to seem completely normal, but feel your cheeks getting rosy from the touch. You suck on your bottom lip and try to hide your face.

You take a large swig of the scotch, trying to be mindful of not wasting such a good drink. He looks at you, shocked at your ability to take it so easily.

“Wow. Good.” Is the only words he can mutter.

You smile meekly. The praise makes you feel undoubtedly shyer than you had just before.

“Are these originals?” You ask, pointing to the corner section of his library, “I couldn’t tell, and didn’t want to touch them if they were.”

“Many of them, yes,” He responds, “I trust that you would be gentle with them, please, which one were you curious about?”

You make your way over to the shelf, placing your drink down on the small table near the corner. You reach up to fold out the red bound book. Its title was completely faded from the binding, but we’re curious as to which one it was. He follows closely behind you, close enough to almost be on you.

He laughs, “Funny you should grab that..”

You open the cover to find Lord of the Rings printed in big black letters.

“Oh, dear god.” You sigh.

“It is an original if that makes you feel any better about it. I know you hate this book, but still-”

“No, no,” You protest, “I never said I hated it, I just said it wasn’t my favorite. Remember we have different opinions on that professor.”

He scoffs and takes the book from your hand. Rubbing the cloth binding with his thumbs.

“Want to know something funny?” He questions.

You did. You really did. You wanted the connection at this moment… For whatever cosmic reason it finally felt okay to banter with him. You nod your head, approving him to continue.

“I saw the movies before I read the books.” He laughs, “My brothers and I loved it, we were practically obsessed, but I was younger then and a stupid boy who didn’t read like I do now. Not the fairytale way most people find their favorite but it reminds me of childhood…”

You wanted to laugh, you wanted to make fun of him for it. But you knew that this was a special moment for him. A look into his past, a presentation for more. He places the book carefully back on the shelf, tucking it back into its spot.

“Well, I guess that makes more sense now. But, as a graduate professor, you ought to just say you like the pretentious shit. No one’s going to take you seriously.”

He turns from the shelf, “Who said I was worried about that? If I lie then I am a fraud. I don’t care if anyone says that.”

Oh fuck. His confidence is so intoxicating. He’s right. Why should he care?

“I just- I meant… I thought that the other professors-”

“You thought that they don’t take me seriously? Right. They don’t. In schools like this, you have to earn respect. I’m not an alumnus, I didn’t go to Harvard, but I do a damn good job at what I do. As much as you may protest some of my teaching, I know what I’m doing.”

He breezes past you and strolls back over to the bar to pour himself another drink. You reach back for yours and hold it between your hands, trying to collect yourself. You hope that you didn’t hurt him.

“Did I offend you?” You ask.

“‘Course not,” He takes a swig, “I just wish you would realize that it doesn’t matter what standards others hold you to. You are not someone else. You are you.”

“I know that.” You respond dryly. Your answer didn’t sound as confident as you wanted it to be. It came out unsure and desperate.

“Then why has your whole academic career been based on your relationship with one woman? Why must everything you do be for her?...”

You stand there silently. Completely struck with emotions. Anger, sadness, discouragement.

“She… She made me who I am,” You pipe, “She’s the reason I am in this program.”

He strolls back over to you, locking your eyes with his. It’s intimidating, this look he has on his face. He’s studying you, seeing how lost you feel. Truly for the first time you couldn’t even try to put up any walls. He had broken you down.

He places his hand on your shoulder again, “Can I show you something?” He asks.

Before you have time to even object to him, his hand moves from your shoulder to your waist, guiding you back towards his desk. You feel butterflies growing inside you.

No. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He is your advisor. He is not someone you should feel this way about. He’s trying to help you, he’s not interested in you.

The vinyl finishes its song and moves on to Something. He guides you into his seat. You place the glass down on the desk and wipe the condensation from your hands onto your thighs. He reaches over the desk and twirls the manuscript back in front of you. The pages sit open about two-thirds of the way through. He stands behind you, practically leaning on your back. His chest rests against your shoulder, pointing at the beginning of the page.

“See this paragraph here?” He questions.

You strain so hard to not melt at his touch. His hair is grazing your cheek. It smells wonderful, but you can’t admit that. He has this gentle but clean musk about him. He smells like a perfectly cared-for bookstore. A soft smell of tobacco and oak. The chains with pendants are draping over his neck, sparkling in the moonlight of the night, softly clanking together with his movement

You need to focus.

You respond, afraid that you waited too long, “Yes?” Your voice wavers, the lack of confidence creeping back through, “Is there something wrong with it?”

He turns to face you, “Yes. I have a big problem with it.”

You feel your heart sink. What could be wrong with it? The back half of the book is the best part, it is the part you feel most confident with. You feel confused. All of those walls and confidence you felt once in his presence were lost.

“What…? What problem?”

You look back at the pages, disregarding his closeness to you, pulling the bundle of paper back towards you, and flipping through to the previous pages. He puts his hand on yours, stopping you from searching. He lowers himself next to the seat, squatting to be at your eye level. His thumb wanders back and forth over your wrist.

He smiles a crooked and cunning smile, “It’s some of the best writing I’ve seen in years, and the author was too scared to even share it with anyone. She lost someone and had to do this all on her own. That’s terrifying, but it’s still her work. ”

You look at the hand holding yours. It’s strong but has a softness to it. It has a few rings sitting on them, but none a wedding band. You lower your head and release your wrist, grabbing it with your other hand. You sigh heavily and grasp your hands in front of the pages. Your hands travel up to hide your face, which presents a melancholic smile that you can’t let go of. You can’t tell if it’s the liquor or his presence, but you feel a glow coming from inside.

You rush your hands past your face and through your hair, resting your hands on the back of your neck. Scoffing, you turn to look at him. His amused smile is irresistible.

“You,” He starts, “Are an amazing writer.” His hand lifts from the pages and reaches up towards your cheek, holding your face in his palm, “And no matter who your teacher is, you can still do it on your own.”

Your hand finds its way up to his arm, holding him back. Staring longingly at each other. Both deep down knowing that this was about to lead down a path you couldn’t return from.

“Professor-” You initiate.

“Jacob.” He replies.

“Fine… Jacob. This- I… I don’t think.”

He quickly removes his hand from your face and comes to his senses. “Oh, dear, um… I’m so sorry y/n… I…”

You let yourself slump in the seat. How could you? How could you squander that moment? After years of wishing to find a man who was at least half as interested in literature as you… Here you are throwing it away. But you could be right to do so. He was your professor, you were his assistant, the moral implications of this all…

Jacob stands and leans back onto the desk, stroking his chin, concerned. Thinking about it all. You can see the nerves climbing through him. He feels embarrassed.

You reach your hand up to your face again, burying your emotions into your skin.

“I just thought- I, fuck.” He continues, “I thought we were turning a corner, I was looking and I thought I saw you-”

“You did.” You respond, “...I was looking.”

You lower your hand from your face to stare back at him. You put the manuscript back on the desk and stand.

“You… You were?” He searches for the answer.

“Jacob… For months I have looked. I didn’t want to like you. I didn’t want to admit that to myself. My mentor was my heart and soul, she was everything to me. I didn’t want to give you any chances because I didn’t want to lose someone like that again… I can’t handle that heartbreak. But…” You trail off.

“But?” He inquires.

You reach for the scotch glass and swirl the liquid around. Staring deep into the stormy amber.

“Fuck it.” You take the last of the scotch into your mouth and turn back to Jacob, “You… You are what I’ve wanted. I can’t deny the way I feel when it’s just us. When I see you deep in thought, when you push me to go further; when you challenge me. When we’re alone, and I see you for the man you are. When I see how genuinely fucking amazing you are. And I’m so mad at myself for not opening myself to you.”

Jacob peels himself off the desk and stances himself in front of you. He grabs your hands and holds them tenderly in his. You drop your head, your hair falling over your frustrated expression.

“You were grieving, you wouldn’t have been ready for this.” He reaches his hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

You look up to him with doe eyes. He was the older man, coming in for the prey. You wanted to be his. You wanted to have him. You wanted it. You denied it for months. You denied it from the moment you saw him. You denied yourself to knowing him in fear that this exact moment would happen. But here you were. Unveiling yourself to him in the very place you felt the first attraction.

“I want to be ready. No, I am ready. I want this. I can’t deny myself happiness because of everything that happened,” You said.

“Are you sure?” He asked. Trying to test you.

You nod your head in approval, trying once again to keep the emotions bottled in.

“I don’t want you to feel any pressure because-”

“Please don’t say it. I know. I know this is all morally fucked up, but I’m an adult, you’re an adult. Just treat me like one.”

He smiles, admiring your maturity, “If you want to do this, there are some things we have to settle first.”

You look up at him confused, “Things? What things?”

“More like rules,” He answers, titling his head playfully, “I need to know what you’re comfortable with. I don’t want to scare you even more than you already seem.”

He returns his hand to hold your face, just like he previously had only moments before.

“I’m not scared Jacob. What rules?”

“As much as I like to be gentle with women, I also enjoy being rough.” He says through a velvety tone

You jolt back, at first fearful of his words, but relax quickly, reminding yourself you don’t need to be scared.

“How rough are we talking…” You prod.

The cunning smile returns across his face, “Don’t worry, I don’t leave marks, at least too bad of marks… And only rough enough that you’ll still be wanting more by the time we’re done.”

You bite your lip at the thought. You’re no virgin at this point in your life, but you’ve never been able to explore this type of intimacy. Every man in college is practically an amateur at pleasuring women and even more so when it comes to exploration in sex. You’ve read plenty of books to know about the type of sex he was talking about. As much as you enjoyed the classics and the light-hearted romance, you still found yourself picking up a steamier romance book in private.

You wanted that. Had practically dreamed about it before…

Being here with this man, who was only a few years your senior, felt like you could practice this fantasy safely. He knew what he was doing, he could show you pleasures you didn’t even know you could enjoy. Even if you felt like you couldn’t learn more from your education with him, perhaps there were other things he could teach you. It was all becoming a bit too exciting.

His hand moves slowly down from your cheek to your waist. His palms gently grazed your spine until they locked in on your love handles.

“So,” He continues, “Are you going to be my good girl? Can you be good for me? Do you think you can take it?”

You reach out to his chest, moving aside his shirt which had barely been buttoned. With one swipe down his sternum, you unlatched all of them revealing his smooth golden skin. He watched you intently, seeing you explore his skin like never before. You traced your fingers along the opening, feeling your need to reach more grow. With each second that passed you felt the insatiable thirst to be close to him; to feel him. His grip on your waist tightened with each pass you made over his chest.

His other hand joined him on your opposite side. You feared that your hips may break with his excited hold. You looked up at him, biting your lip, trying to remain coy. That soft smile appeared on his lips; you had answered with your body language.

He pushes his hands further into you and lifts you onto the desk, your ass barely resting on the edge of the wood.

“Words,” He said, pulling himself closer into you, resting perfectly between your legs, “Nothing’s going to happen until you tell me you want it to. This isn’t going to work sweetheart unless you use your words.”

“Jacob-” Are the only breathy words that you can mutter.

You can feel him growing, feel the linen pants barely holding back his excitement. You feel your heartbeat travel from your chest, down into your stomach, into your…

His hand moves up to your jaw, holding it firmly in his grip, “Y/N, follow the instructions. Words. I’m not going to wait much longer.”

“Yes-”

Before you can even finish he’s pulling you into an embrace. Your lips meet his. The soft taste of scotch remaining on both of you created an intoxicating addicting feeling. It was complete passion, complete neediness to be one. His tongue introduces itself into your mouth… Soft, wet. Beckoning. The noises you both are making sound feral, completely unusual for the both of you. What once was a prim and proper relationship between you became a fervent desperation to touch… To fuck.

His hands traveled down your body, first reaching your chest, grasping you completely in his hand. Rolling his palms over the front of your breasts, driving you completely mad. You wished the barriers of clothing had been completely stripped away, but he was too hungry to even keep you waiting for long. His hands reached under your shirt, plowing underneath the wire of your bra to find your naked breasts. A soft relieving moan escaped your lips through the breaths of the kissing.

You reached your hands out to find the remainder of the buttons of his vest closing you off to his body. You made quick work of unbuttoning them, reaching your hands across his midsection; climbing to his back. Reaching up towards his shoulders, feeling the softness of his skin across the pads of your fingers. God, he was perfect.

His fingers traveled to your nipples, running his thumb and forefinger over the bud of your nipples. Before you could even realize what you were doing, your nails dragged down his back, raking into his skin. He paused the kissing for a moment to let out a moaning growl. He slid his hands out from your bra, slipping down to the edges of your shirt, attempting to tug it off as fast as he could. You snatched your hands out of his shirt to raise them over your head, giving him complete access to strip you.

He placed his hand between your breasts and forced you down onto the desk, your head falling onto the manuscript below you. He shook off his vest and was quick to pull his shirt off.

“Seems like I’m not the only one who likes it rough, huh?” He asked.

You lifted your head from the desk, “No, definitely not.” You responded. Unsure where this untamed version of you had even come from.

“No, sir” He stated, pushing you back down.

“What?” You asked, skeptical of what he meant.

He mounted himself once again between your legs, grinding himself into you. He traced his finger down your neck, to the waistline of your pants.

“Sir… That’s what my good girls going to call me, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, unaware that you were even doing so, “Call me Jacob,” you mock, “Call me sir.”

He reached back up to your jaw, pushing his thumb into your cheek, “If you’re going to be a brat we’re going to need to set some more rules. Good girls don’t get punished, but you’re already testing me.”

Completely stunned, you look back at him trying to emulate a softness, an apology. You had to admit though, you weren’t scared of him… If anything you were more turned on by the thought of his punishments.

“And how would you punish me, sir?” You ask in your best sultry voice.

He let out a low grumbling laugh. He studied your body, not even acknowledging your question, just thinking… Thinking of what he would do to you. He grabbed onto your hips and pulled you hard into his cock. There was no wondering anymore. You could feel how large he was, how excited he was. If your own body wasn’t blocking it you could probably see it entirely.

“Maybe,” He starts, “Maybe you’re not going to be my good girl,” His hands dig deeper into your waist, “Maybe, you’re going to be my little slut.”

The word echoed through the room. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not the feeling of being displeased, it was a feeling of being right. Being here with him, being under his control, felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. He could see you in a way that someone hasn’t seen you for months. He was learning every inch of you and would learn even more as the night went on.

He leaned down from his high position to plant gentle kisses along your neck. Gingerly leaving behind little reminders of passion.

“-And if you’re going to be my slut,” He whines through breathy kisses, “you need to know the safe words.”

You run your hands up to his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. Tracing his scalp over your fingertips. You don’t want to go this slow, the breaks are killing you. You just want to feel him. You want to feel him on you, in you, taking you completely as his own.

His kisses finally reach the band of your jeans, but that doesnt stop him from exploring further. He pulls down on the jeans to reveal more of your stomach, delivering gentle almost tickling kisses.

“Green,” He whispers, “Means you like it… You don’t want me to stop.”

His hand travels over to the button of your jeans, popping the metal away from the denim. Your eyes follow him, watching his hair fall over your stomach, the metal of his necklace chilling your bare skin. His shoulders look strong here, masculine, powerful. Watching him focus so intently on you is killing you. This is a man unlike any other that you’ve been with, he’s focused on treating you first, even if there were some other pleasures in it for him.

“Yellow,” The zipper slowly starts to unravel as he pulls your pants further down, “Means you need me to slow down… If you need a break…”

Your pants steadily fall off of your legs, finally being exposed to him entirely until they fall onto the floor. The only thing separating you from him now is your thong. Which you are now praising yourself for wearing today. He resumes his consuming kisses across your midsection, joining back down where he had left off. His hands slip underneath him to grab the edges of the lace, sliding off the thong with ease.

His kisses start to graze you closer to your…

He stops and lifts himself. His hand leads up to your mouth, putting his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. You accept them, excited for what it means.

“Red.” His voice develops a more serious tone, “Means stop.”

He removes his now slick fingers from your mouth, returning them down below. His fingers reach your cunt, and you welcome him with excitement of your own. Your body is in shambles waiting, wanting to know what it feels like. His fingers dance across your aching clit, his thumb padding the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves through your deprived body. A loud distressed moan escapes you, you can’t help but express your enthusiasm.

“Don’t worry sir,” You shudder through achy moans, “I don’t think I’ll need to use that one.”

“Good girl.”

Without any hesitation his fingers breach you, filling you up. He stands over you, watching you grow with the agony of pleasure. Your breath hitches with each pump, your back arching with each lift of his fingers. His thumb traces back over your clit, stimulating every inch of you.

Every attempt at communicating the feeling faulters, except for, “Oh fuck-”

Your body is shaking with each movement. He’s painting the perfect picture of an orgasm with just one hand. The power he holds, the knowledge he has. He knew how to please you better than you knew how to.

His free hand makes its way around your neck, gripping it, holding you in place so he can work harder at you. You’ve never been choked before, it’s a completely new sensation. The gasps for air were something you thought you’d fear, but instead, you were wishing he’d hold on harder.

“Green?” He asks, looking for permission.

You nodded your head ferociously

You feel yourself completely letting go under his control, something you feared once to let him have all the power. But here, now, held down to his desk… You never wanted it to stop.

“Words.” He barked.

Your hand reaches up to hold his wrist, “Yes, yes…”

“Yes, what?” He asks again, his fingers slowing their movement. Clearly, he wouldn’t be letting you get away with anything. You had to be obedient and do as he told you.

“Yes… Please, Sir,” You beg.

The words were getting harder to communicate. If he could finger you into oblivion, you might let him if it meant you could feel this good again.

He smiled in approval and resumed his previous pace. Steadily building faster, and faster. Harder and harder. You could feel how wet you were becoming, it really didn’t take much for him to draw the excitement out of you. The swirls of his fingers and the vigor of his motions were precise… Calculated, trying to accomplish only one mission; and he was close to succeeding.

Your moaning only got more frequent and louder, you couldn’t hold back. The pleasure was far too great to stay quiet. He almost let you be loud too, only for a few moments before reminding you of your location. He lifted his hand off your neck to lift a single finger to his lips and then pointed around the room.

“If my good girl can’t stay quiet, I’ll have to make her. We don’t want anyone spoiling all the fun.”

You nod your head, remembering you were still in his office. Your surroundings had escaped you completely; only thinking of him and you.

His thumb started to apply more pressure, practically begging for you for more. A softer moan forced its way out, helpless to be silenced. His hand plasters itself over your mouth, holding you silent. The pads of his fingers resting deep into your cheeks.

“I know baby, it’s so hard… You’re gonna be so good and come for me now, okay?”

Finally being relieved of speaking, you nod your head, ready for the climax. His fingers dive upward, grazing the sweet spot buried inside of you. The pressure, the sensation it’s all too much. You feel your belly tighten, your back arching. He’s trying to hold you steady as you writhe in pleasure. There’s no stopping anything now.

“Do it baby, come on… Be a good little slut for me…”

Your eyes roll deep back into your head. You feel the sweet sensation of release wash over you. Like a wave of ecstasy, traveling from your toes, past your aching clit, through your belly, all the way to your head. Stifled moans slip through the cracks of his fingers. His fingers stay at their steady pace, pushing past your orgasm. You feel yourself dripping around him. You’ve never come this hard in your life, you’ve never felt the devotion to make you feel this good. Your body is quivering around him, unable to shake the overstimulation. You’re squeezing onto his wrist, trying to come down easy, but everything he’s doing is making the sensations crash into you.

He takes his hand away from your mouth and you immediately gasp for air, trying to find serenity.

“Oh god,” You moan, “How did you-”

He shuts you up by taking his mouth to your soaked cunt, sliding his tongue through the mess he made. You place your hands beside you to sit up slightly. This was a sight you did not want to miss. You take his hair in your hands and tuck it aside. Each stripe of his tongue makes you wince, you want him to stop, but you can’t let him. It feels too good. It’s too much but just the right amount all at once.

He was consuming you, desperate to explore every inch of you. Wildly eating you up, trying to capture every last drop of his work. You were spilling into him, it was never-ending. It was like you weren’t even there; everything except your pusy. This was a high that you never wanted to come down from. He was devoted to keeping you there as long as he could, but you couldn’t hold on for more.

You fell back onto the desk, squirming through it all. He had you right where he wanted you. You let yourself fall into him, trying to take it all. Your hands reach over the desk, trying to find somewhere to hang onto, but instead knocking the scotch glass off the desk. Shattering loudly beneath you.

Jacob didn’t stop though, he was completely distracted, locked in. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Yellow.. Yellow..” You begged, completely overstimulated and shocked. How could you even ask for that?... But it was impossible to withstand any more sensation.

He stopped slowly, easing you out of the enjoyment. His hands reached up over your thighs and rested on your hips, slowly petting them with his thumbs. He looked up at you through glazed-over eyes, completely drunk on your arousal. He didn’t want it to end.

Slowly raising himself back to a standing position, you could see how hard he had gotten. He felt just as much pleasure as you did. He was completely lost, coming back to reality. Chin dripping with your wetness…

He leaned back over you and kissed you sloppily. The passion was more fiery than before. You did something to him and he did even more to you. It was strange to taste yourself on his lips, but exciting nonetheless. You were caught up together. Complete and one at that moment. And then it all stopped…

Footsteps approached outside the classroom. You both stopped. He removed himself from your lips and raised his head to listen.

A knock at the classroom door.

“Hello?” Someone called out.

There was no mistaking that someone was in this office, between the music, the glass breaking… They knew.

“Everything okay in here Kiszka?”

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. He stands and reaches for his shirt, buttoning it with no haste. He grabs your shirt and pants and kicks them under the desk, “Go, get underneath the desk,” He whispers, “Now.”

#jake kiszka #greta van smut #gvf fic #gvf smut #jake kiskza x reader #jtk x reader #jake gvf #professor fic #gvf #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka series #jake kiszka angst #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut

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bakubunny · 7 months

Text

twelve days of kinkmas: a little tradition (1)

part 2

a/n: starting the month with a little bakugo fluff. was gonna do aizawa smut first, but @neon-gothicc inspired this with her denki fic so here u go i hope u like it friend.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

prompt: mistletoe

tags: pro!bakusquad, mention of alcohol, katsuki has anxiety, shy!reader, first kiss

see the prompts and join the fun here

If his plan didn’t work, Denki was a dead man. He knew that much. It was early December, and Eijiro and Mina were hosting the first holiday party of the year. After telling them his idea weeks ago when they’d announced the party, Mina had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and Eijiro was all stupid romantic grins at the thought.

As the couple got decor in place, setting out food and drink for the event, Denki helped set up decorations by hanging things that were a little too high for Mina to reach on her own. When everything was ready and the clock struck seven, people slowly began trickling in as the party started.

Katsuki walked in the front door after Sero. He looked around the room, not noticing much at first. Then he saw it, and turned around to walk out. Sero grabbed him by the coat and pulled him back in.

“Oh, no Bakubro. You dipped on every holiday party last year. You’re staying,” he said.

Denki, the little fucker he is, hung a sprig of mistletoe over every single doorway in the apartment that Katsuki could see. The two blonde men locked eyes, one with a glare and the other a nervous smile.

Yeah, he was a dead man.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

You were in the main living area where most everyone was gathered aside from him and a few others playing a game of some kind, looking like a dream, and Katsuki didn’t know how to handle himself. He couldn’t pull his eyes from the pretty red nail polish that complimented your outfit. It resonated in his head, the way you laughed so genuinely at every one of Sero’s stupid jokes as you sat near him. He felt like he was going to be sick. At some point, Katsuki caught your eyes glancing at the doorways once you’d noticed the first one, but you’d seemed unphased.

Of course she doesn’t care, you fucking idiot, he thought. You’re the only one who’s bothered by it.

As the night dwindled on, every once in a while people would “follow tradition,” giving chaste kisses to their significant other.

He’d hardly spent time with you at all. Truthfully, he didn’t have the courage to.

You’d been on his mind for years, little bits of banter going back and forth as you worked at the front desk of the agency. But he never had the courage to ask you out on a date. It felt stupid; Katsuki had all the confidence and smooth talk in the world when he’d first become a hero, knew just what to say to charm the pants off of any person he wanted to fuck. Then he met you three years ago, and it all came to a screeching halt. His stomach got tight, his mouth went dry. He’d fumble things in his hands for no reason, feel his cheeks heat up whenever you spoke to him. He fucking hated it. His friends never shut up on it, either.

Katsuki noticed there was no one in the main entryway to the dining room where snacks and drinks were displayed, so he took his chance and managed to get through the entrance and then to the bathroom unscathed. He slumped down onto the toilet and started at the floor for a long moment. Red, tired eyes looked back at him when he got up to wash his hands.

“I should just fucking leave. Don’t wanna be here anyway,” he mumbled to himself.

Another knot tightly wound itself in his gut.

It was too loud. Everyone was getting drunk. And tonight, he just didn’t care. He knew his friends must have something up their sleeve, convinced that he gives a single fuck about you when he’s told them time and again that, no, he doesn’t. That they need to butt the hell out of his love life. Because if he were to admit to them that he did, they’d only get worse.

Katsuki also knew that if he ended up under the mistletoe with you, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold himself back.

“Just talk to him, honey!” Mina said quietly with a smile. “Or go take his seat. That’ll start something.”

Your face flared with heat; you’d been debating on approaching Katsuki all night. He looked miserable sitting across the room, but was engaged in other conversation for the most part.

“No, you’re crazy,” you replied.

You stood up and went to grab a glass of water from the dining area. Denki called out as you walked away.

“Hey, wait, can you get me-”

You ran into a wall of muscle with your head turned back to look the other way. Katsuki stood in front of you seemingly dumbfounded and not having noticed you either.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!”

“‘S fine, you okay?” he asked quietly.

“Kiiiiiss,” Sero shouted from across the room.

“Yeah, it’s tradition. You have to, bad luck if you don’t,” Denki quipped.

One look up and sure enough, you were smack under the entryway.

You stepped back with a nervous laugh and met Katsuki’s gaze. “N-no, it’s okay.”

“C’mon, just a little peck,” Eijiro said.

Katsuki watched your cheeks flush, and the words came out of his idiot mouth before he could stop them.

“Dunceface is right, y’know. Tradition’s tradition,” he mumbled.

With a smile and a sigh, you relented. You pushed onto your toes to reach Katsuki’s cheek and kissed him. As you pulled away, two large hands grabbed your face. Katsuki kissed you hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

The sudden uproar of noise in the room faded in Katsuki’s head as he kissed you once, twice, and again. His heart hammered in his chest. By the second and third one, you were kissing him back. He almost couldn’t believe it.

For once, he thought, Dunceface had a pretty good idea.

sorry i forgot to add the tag list 🤦‍♀️

if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know. ♡

gremlins: @callm3senpaii @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @darkstarlight82 @bookcluberror @neon-gothicc @zazter-den @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @aria-chikage @mhadabiandhawks4eva @yazminetrahan @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @ruu-https @hana-yuri @keiva1000 @katsul0vr @trickster-kat @ayeohoh-blog @dinomeow @flamgosstuff @mistressreaper @angelltheninth @anonymously-ominous @amberexe2 @hisconsistency @nanamisbigassschlong @223princess @pastelbakugou @gold24fish

#idk if i like this but it gave me fluffy feels so 🤷‍♀️#it’s giving slight ‘michael in the bathroom’ vibes #if u haven’t heard that song i like it a lot but it’s completely unrelated to this #I hc katsuki as someone who’s got a fuck ton of anxiety and self hate under all that anger #maybe it’s incorrect but it feels right #bnha fluff #mha fluff #bakugou fluff #Bakugo fluff #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katuski #bakugou x reader #x reader #bakubunny #f!reader #kinkmas 2023 #fluffmas 2023 #aged up characters

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wonysugar · 7 months

Note

can u make a sunoo fic?

missed you | kim sunoo

synopsis : kim sunoo, your favorite stripper from the hybe boys establishment, started missing you after a while of you not showing up, so he had a lot of things to show you when you did come see him.<3

pairing : stripper!sunoo x rich!femreader

genre : smut :]

tags : sunoo is a male stripper, ricky from zb1 mentionned, jake from enha mentionned, reader is rich but it’s like not really relevant to the story, fingering (male receiving), biiiggg mommy kink, sub!sunoo, dom!femreader

warnings : none he’s just horny

word count : 1.5k

work was rough.

sure, going to work in itself wasn’t super difficult, but it was mostly the people working with you that made it unbearable. i mean, for god’s sake, you were a superior to the most of them, the least they could do was actually listen to you, and obey you when you gave orders.

which, they didn’t.

so naturally, you felt like going somewhere special, somewhere people knew their place and didn’t talk back to you during every second of the day.

immediately upon finishing your shift, your mind wandered to one place and one place only.

hybe boys.

you stepped foot into the establishment and was greeted by the comforting and familiar ambience, the music and lighting welcoming you with open arms.. you particularly noticed the usual customer seemingly going absolutely crazy over three of today’s boys, hoshi and jake. the third guy, whose name was apparently ricky has probably been staying for a short amount of time, due to him not being a employee you recognize, but it’s not like he was completely new either, since he clearly knew what he was doing. it takes someone with experience to grind on a pole like that with such a lustful expression. anywho, the said girl was having the time of her life and pushing everyone out of her way and honestly? who could blame her?

as cute as the boys were, though, you came for someone else. someone who caught your oh-so-precious attention since day one. to you. this whole strip club was like a restaurant, while he was both the main course and the dessert.

you spot him, kim sunoo, sitting down at the bar, probably on his break, talking to some seemingly older man as he’s being his very touchy self as usual. that quickly ceases once he sees you approaching him, immediately ignoring the other guy with a big cute grin on his face, as he clearly just saw that man as an opportunity to get more cute hand bags. that idea was quickly killed off by seeing you though. you always knew you were his favorite.

“y/nnnn, where have you been? it’s been soo long!” he says, clinging onto your arm and pulling himself in closer to you. you, in response pat the back of his head, returning the affection in your own way.

“work, baby. i’ve been super busy lately.. i barely have any time to see you anymore.”

he pouts, making your heart skip a beat. he always knew how to act adorable for you. “i missed you.. you could have told me, you do have my number, after all.”

you hum, wrapping your arm around his fairly skinny clothed waist, admiring his look for the night. you particularly noticed that he wore a piece of almost see-through lingerie that you bought him a few months back, probably walking around with it fully aware of how well it suits him and the impact it has on people.

despite how good it looked, though, you still felt the very intense urge to rip it off of him right at that moment. you knew you couldn’t though, not right now, at least.

“how much did you miss me, babyboy?” you whisper into his ear, careful not to let anyone near hear it. because yes, as hot as it probably looked, his regulars were pretty crazy about him, and his whole paycheck depended on them, so he kind of does need to act like he belongs to them. but really, you both knew that he belonged to you, and exclusively you.

“mmh, so much, mommy. i kept checking around the club every shift to see if you were here, but you never wereee.” he was already turning a little red, and his voice was getting higher and whinier with each word. the temptation to just cup his cute ass right then and there was strong, but you managed to contain it.

“you’re on break for another 30 minutes, right?” you asked, still whispering into his ear, his skin tingling in response to the warm breath it felt. he could only nod, poor baby was probably already so needy for you.

as to not waste any more time, you took his wrist and took him upstairs, where there were private rooms for “VIP lap dances”. now, let’s be realistic, as a regular, you knew that nobody ever used those rooms to get a personal show. while yes, this was technically a strip club, but it was also considered to basically be a brothel, too. not every employee here is comfortable to fuck clients, but most are. sunoo is one of the uncomfy ones when it comes to sex, but he seems to be way more than perfectly fine with it when it’s with you.

as soon as he closes and locks the door behind him, you take his lips in yours, immediately entering your tongue into his mouth, roaming the insides of it. cute whimpers coming out of him, you could clearly feel his hard-on as he lightly humped your clothed thigh, trying to make how horny he was not too obvious. he was failing miserably though, and viewing that sight made you chuckle involuntarily, voice low.

“so needy for me already, hm?” you teased.

“please fuck me mommy it’s been so long.. not even jerking off works anymore.. i - mmh oh my god - thinking about you while i jack myself off isn’t enough, i need your hands on me pleaseee.” he’s desperately whining and begging, being so good for you like this, you would just hate yourself if you couldn’t give him what he wanted. if you had known, you’d bring your strap-on if you were planning on staying for a long time, but.. fingers will do for tonight.

“then, sit on that chair for me, sunoo.” upon hearing his name, he immediately did as told, and even spread his legs so you could get better access. “so obedient for mommy, aren’t you? good boy.” you knew how desperate he’d act for praise, so he pouted and nodded eagerly, in hopes of making you understand that his dick was probably aching by now. he needed to feel your touch.

it didn’t take long before his cute cock was sticking out of his tight set, throbbing at the feeling of your thumb gently grazing its tip, teasing and feeling all of the precum leak from it. sunoo was a whining mess by this point, and he made it very well known that he wanted more, according to the bucking movements of his hips. his moans slowly becoming fuel for you, you progressively went faster, making sure to thoroughly stroke every inch of his adorable twitching dick. he was throbbing at each swift motion you made, his body shaking, already threatening to shoot his load all onto your hand.

not even 5 minutes went by before he started begging and calling out to you, mommys loudly spilling out of his mouth before a big amount of warm, white and thick liquid spurts out of his tip, most of it landing on your fingers and palm, the rest on the chair he’s sitting on. you loved the look he had on his face, everything about it drove you absolutely crazy. he was already far from being innocent, but you just wanted to corrupt him even further.

if you weren’t in a hurry, you would’ve started riding him a long time ago, taking all of his length and watching him squirm under you like he always did, moaning like a bitch at the feeling of his dick inside your tight pussy.

“f-fuck i missed you s-so mu-“

before he could even finish that sentence, you quickly grabbed him from the waist and turned him around on the soft chair, earning a small yelp as his soft ass was now facing you. you couldn’t bother to tease him, not when he was being this good for you. so, like anyone in this situation would, you spat on your fingers and gently rubbed them on his entrance, hearing how his whimpers and whines get higher.

“m-mommy, i just c-came - god - please..” he begged despite unconsciously arching his back so you could get better access. you chuckled at his poor attempt of not seeming like a desperate little puppy for you, he was so unintentionally adorable.. you just couldn’t wait to rim his ass roughly like he oh-so deserved.

inserting two fingers into his hole, his immediate response was to gasp and push himself deeper onto your digits, whining and sobbing at the pressure that was being applied.

pleads and begs for you to go faster escape his open mouth, “pleasepleaseplease”, “y/nnn” and “fuckk..” were the only things that could come out of his mouth, his drool slightly drooping out, just looking like a total slut from getting gently fucked by your fingers. if you knew he got like this desperate when overstimulated, you would’ve done it a lot more often.

“it f-feels so g-g-oodd momm-myy..” he moaned out shamelessly moments after, not giving a single fuck about somebody, anybody walking past and potentially hearing. his legs shaking uncontrollably at your digits. “didn’t you miss this, sunoo? didn’t you miss being fucked this good by mommy?”

poor baby could only nod his head, trying and barely succeeding in keeping his teary eyes open. he looked a mess, his cheeks all flushed, his messy and wet covering his sweat-coated forehead– fuck he looked so pretty. you were ravished by undoing him like this.

despite your inability to express it with words,

you missed him too, and that night,

you made sure to showcase it for hours to come.

#kim sunoo #sub sunoo #enhypen smut #enhypen sunoo #sunoo enhypen #smut #sunoo x female reader #kim sunoo x female reader #sunoo x reader

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dcangel · 8 months

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hi hi! i saw that u were asking for reqs and prompt 29 rlly had me thinking… imagine you’ve been there for 2 years and are the only girl, and you don’t socialize much, you do your part and keep to yourself so no one knows much abt you. but when thomas shows up, he continues to bug you with questions/bother you including why ur the only girl there. there’s a lot of tension and one night he wonders off in the woods he finds you and one thing leads to another and it happens..!

AHH okay this is sending me to hell bc my mind is going feral just thinking about it and I literally am so excited to write this one. And thank you so much for requesting one <333 (this is my first time writing smut so bear with me)

Idk how to tag these correctly bc I’ve never posted anything but if I’m wrong just correct me: p in v, slight fingering, praising, degrading, dirty talk, mentions of edging, mentions of getting caught, choking kink, slight size kink, slight/moderate pain kink, oral sex!f receiving, a few uses of y/n, nicknames, 2nd person pov. Majorly unedited and not proofread (grammarly told me there were 149 errors but it’s 2:24 in the morning so grammarly can kindly fuck off. hopefully this is bearable to read.)

8238 words (what thee actual fuck)

29– Thomas

“Don’t muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”

The last few days were… something else. Like clockwork every month, another greenie arrived, but to you that just meant another person bugging the shit out of you until they got over it. What were you supposed to tell them? That you just felt like coming up into the maze and trapping yourself here for two years just because you were bored? Every single greenie, without fail, always pestered you like a small gnat swirling around your ear each day; “why are you the only girl? Why are you here? Is it hard being the only girl?” And of course the alarmingly obviously questions that crossed every new shank’s mind, but only few braved to ask.

You mostly managed to steer clear of the lewd obscenities, letting the few friends you made take care of it for you since it got to be an irritable subject for you very quickly. But, unfortunately, there were some that wanted to ask the girl herself. Some that didn’t even know your name, yet still approached you with a supercilious guise thinking that it would somehow win you over. Each time it made you wonder what they put in these new greenies before sending them up; they just kept getting worse and worse.

Majority of the gladers knew your name, but then again how could they not? Some knew it but just decided to call you whatever you wanted; as if you being a girl made you less human and more of an object. Those were the boys that could only dream of touching a girl, never mind even being able to hookup with one.

You were surprised by the amount of people that actually treated you as equal, even though it was the bare fucking minimum. Sometimes you found it ironic how Chuck—the youngest glader here—didn’t even think twice about your humanity status when half the so-called “men” in this place treated you like scut. The boy having stated many times that “you’re a human too, just like the rest of us. We each play our part and at the end of the day; work is work. It doesn’t matter how old you are or if you’re a guy or a girl.” You think one of the reasons you were such good friends with the boy was because he could easily relate to your struggles; him being the youngest glader and always treated like a baby who couldn’t comprehend the simplest things, and you being the only girl who’s treated like shit because apparently women can’t possibly be able to do the same things as men. You were both deeply misunderstood, and that served as a foundation for one of your closest relationships.

Of course the leader, Alby, had always said the same; you were to be treated as equal. He’d even brought up the fact that it was dispiriting that the matter was even a question at all. Some days were worse than others, only granting you the energy to will yourself out of the small hut Gally and few others helped you build, at the last possible second and skipping breakfast as you trudged your way over to the gardens, taking your place by Newt. From there, maybe you’d have an occasional conversation about the dirt that constantly flung into your eyes, automatically irritating both your sight and your mood, or maybe about how brutally the blazing sun treated your reddening shoulders and face.

But on those days—the bad ones—you kept silent, doing what you were told when you were told, taking part in the roles that made the glade work. Maybe you’d join the rest of the glade for supper, sitting with the very few people you called ‘friends’ but at the end of the table, hoping to avoid conversation that inevitably reeled you in. More often than not, bad days usually warranted you to take the meal to your hut after a quick ‘thanks’ to Frypan, then making the isolated trip to the comforting confines of your own space.

You tried keeping to yourself, afraid to get too close with anyone that wasn’t Chuck or Newt, but of course your name was brought up quite often. It never made sense, though; you rarely interacted with anyone, even the people you exchanged words with on occasion, not much was known about you. You even tried to avoid being seen as often as possible in hopes that your absence would somehow make the gladers forget about your existence.

Yet every month when a new greenie was sent up, terrified and questioning their entire existence, it also started a new uproar around your name. So with Thomas, it was no different. Well, almost no different.

After he showed up, he wasn’t subtle with his intentions like most were—always asking anyone he could about anything that might make you more 3-dimensional in his eyes. So when he saw you talking to Chuck and ruffling the young boy’s hair, he used their already-forming bond to his advantage.

“Hey, Chuck, who was that?” He pretended to be oblivious as if he hadn’t been staring at you all day every day, the way your hair was always tied back in a single low braid, how the small strands that were too short slipped from the crossed-pattern and framed your face, how your sun-kissed nose scrunched whenever some minor inconvenience passed your way or the way your head tilted ever-so-slightly as a way to show your confusion.

He was well aware that this most certainly happened with every new arrival; the pestering questions, the intrusive thoughts, yet he was infatuated with wanting to know absolutely everything he could.

“Who? Her?” Chuck followed the older boy’s gaze, quickly losing interest once he saw where it led.

Thomas’s gaze, however, didn’t falter. He couldn’t decide what part of you to focus on. Maybe the way you effortlessly carried buckets and buckets of whatever the hell was needed for gardening, but it looked heavy enough to make him stare in awe. He was shameless. “Yes her. Who is she?”

“A person.” Chuck answered, being frustratingly vague.

Thomas finally pulled his brown eyes from you, landing them on the smaller boy beside him. “What’s her name?”

“Why does it matter?” The young boy was all too familiar with the questions of each newbie, most greenies coming to Chuck for the same thing each month that became almost a routine to give out as little information as possible to protect his friend.

Thomas sighed, mentally rolling his eyes. “Because I wanna’ know.” He answered bluntly.

“You wouldn’t care what that guy’s name is,” Chuck pointed to a builder named Dan. “So why do you care what her name is?”

The greenie squinted his eyes, jaw clenched in slight irritation, the veins on his neck becoming more prominent than before. “Because I just want to know?”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N. There.” Chuck’s bitter tone was definitely a eye-opener, the boy usually sweet and happy to make new friends.

“Thanks.” Thomas managed to get a small thumbs up in return as Chuck walked further away, obviously done with their conversation.

. . .

The next few days left Thomas’s curiosity at a higher peak, even worse than when he first got here—before he knew about the girl. Luckily Chuck had told you each time the greenie asked another question, and you couldn’t express how grateful you were for the young boy since he never answered them.

However, despite Chuck’s anguished attempts at telling Thomas to leave you alone, the greenie pursued his interests in getting to know you more, although it was nearly inevitable that this would happen.

On this particular day, though, he couldn’t seem to find you. Much to his dismay, you were in the Deadheads, sitting by the small brook that always seemed to flow despite the enclosed glade. It was night, the sun long gone although the heat never seemed to leave. You liked the Deadheads, specifically the brook. It was quiet, nothing but the sounds of water trickling over small rocks and folding in on itself, and maybe the occasional leaf falling to the forest floor. The peaceful sounds were a drastic difference to the clanking of shovels on rocks that seemed to peeve each gardener, or tools hammering wood that echoed across the entire open glade.

It was rare, but sometimes you’d accidentally fall asleep in the woods due to the calming nature, serving for an aching back and sore neck that shot pain thorough your whole body when you craned it the wrong way. It would’ve been one of those nights, except the sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping under someone’s foot brought you back from your half-asleep state. You sat up against the tree, your legs crossing as you looked around. The only people who knew you came out here were sure to be asleep by now, Chuck always falling asleep the second the second he laid down on his hammock, and Newt knowing you didn’t like to be bothered out here.

You thought back to when Ben had been stung and was chasing Thomas through the Deadheads, and you thought the same was about to happen to you. Grabbing a small stick by your side— that would probably snap if any pressure were applied— you stood up and looked around the dark forest. The plush foliage provided little to no light, which left your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness as quickly as possible.

You held the stick out in front of you and slowly backed up, occasionally spinning around to check behind you, the stick swinging through the air like it was wielded by a maniac.

The lack of light confused your senses, and somehow you didn’t you didn’t hear the cracking and snapping of leave and twigs, or feet the heat behind you getting closer and closer until your back slammed into something that scared you so bad you almost yelped as you whipped around to threaten whoever it was with the flimsy stick that almost snapped when you turned. You were greeted with an unfamiliar face, one that wasn’t just another in the sixty something faces in the glade that you had yet to learn the name of. It was a new one.

“Shit— sorry.” He muttered quickly, large, outstretched hands already on your shoulders to steady you.

You back up slightly, hoping his grip would fall off, and it did. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy automatically took to fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit you guessed. “I, uh… I was looking for you, actually. Chuck told me you might be out here.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, not believing him since Chuck knew better than to tell a random greenie where you’d most likely be during your free time. “Did he?”

The greenie struggled to come up with an excuse, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground.

“Or did you just watch me come out here earlier with the plans of following me, hoping I’d still be here after you were done with your job?” You added with a raised brow, a clear annoyed tone evident in your voice.

“Wel— No that’s not— I mean… well, you’re probably used to the newbies bothering you—”

“Damn right I am. And I don’t expect you to be any different, so unless you have anything important to say, then I’m just gonna leave.” You got straight to the point, not caring to sugarcoat or be nice to him since you’d tried that before with other greenies, and it usually didn’t turn out well. You dropped your stick and started to turn away from him when you heard his footsteps following you again, his voice following soon after.

“Well, no, but I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t know you v—”

“So let’s keep it that way, yeah?” You said, sounding as if you were talking to a child.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, a small habit of his. “Could you just stop cutting me off?”

“Why should I?” You said, brown raised in annoyance as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg.

“Because I fucking asked? It shouldn’t be that hard to be nice to someone.”

You scoffed, his attitude impressing you since it almost matched yours perfectly. You eyed him before opening your mouth to speak. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be. So why’re you making it so difficult then?” You asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, your head tilted coyly.

He let out a quick sigh, jaw clenching in irritation. “Because, all I did was try and talk to you and you’re being a bitch about it.”

Your head jerked back slightly, your eyebrows automatically raised with a taunting smile of disbelief creeping up. “You just can’t help it with the foul language can you?” You said with a laugh, one that seemed to get on his nerves even more. It was almost impressive how irritable he was. “Maybe you should try talking to directly instead of bugging my friends—especially Chuck— about me. Y’know, like a conversation or something? Maybe start off with a small introduction like your name or something a little less hostile.”

“Fine, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” It wasn’t intentional but you realized that you had cut him off again. But instead of apologizing, you almost wanted to see how pissed he could get before stomping off.

He was definitely contemplating it, almost losing interest since your attitude made him want to smash his head against a rock, but his pure stubbornness was what kept him standing there. “Again with the cutting me off! Is that all you ever do? ‘S that why you don’t have any friends.”

Being the only girl in a glade full of boys made this seem like nothing compared what else you’ve heard, so his little insults and slight temper tantrum did nothing. “Well you said you wanted to talk to me, and I’m assuming you wanted to get to know me more since all you ever do is bother Chuck.” You said with a shrug. “Come on, you can do better than that, I know you can.”

Something about your tone, the way it was taunting him, teasing him in a way that he couldn’t tell if he should hate you or want to slam you against a tree and— he shook his head, seemingly getting rid of whatever was going through his mind. “Why, you want me to insult you? Treat you like a piece of shit like everyone else does?”

You didn’t respond. Rather, you just stood there, not bothering to move as he subtly took a few slow steps toward you.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” He said, head tilting in a certain way that allowed the small streaks of moonlight peering through the spaces above that weren’t covered by trees to illuminate the beginnings of smug look on his freckled face.

Of course you knew what he looked like, he was a gardener the first few days so you had the displeasure of working near him, but something about him being up close and the way the shadowy brightness of the moon cast a perfect gleam allowed you to really notice his features. You had to admit, he wasn’t a bad looking guy; short brown hair, a perfect nose that could make anyone jealous, pale skin littered with moles and freckles that didn’t seem to be on just his face, golden-brown eyes that looked darker than in the daylight, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the tree coverage or some other reason…

“I bet it’s something else, isn’t it?” His voice was what snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes focusing back in on his darkening gaze.

“Huh?” You said, your eyes practically in slits at this point. You couldn’t tell if your question was actually a question, or if it was because you’d already forgotten what he asked before.

He took a step closer, yet he wasn’t actually that close. It was simply the darkness of the Deadheads and the way your other senses tried to account for your poor vision that made it seem like he was towering over you.

Or maybe he was.

“I said, are you just always a bitch like this, or do you do it because you like the way people respond. The way they get irritated and go off on you or treat you like shit all for you to complain about it afterwards.” You almost couldn’t believe his words. But what was less believable was the feeling that resonated in the pit of your stomach. One that had you thinking things you shouldn’t be.

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?” You spat out, trying to act offended.

His smirk grew, telling you that you reacted exactly how he expected. “You didn’t answer my question.” He took another step forward.

“I don’t have to.” You stepped back.

He noticed your slight step back, he also noticed the tree behind you—he same one you’d almost fallen asleep against earlier—getting closer each time. “I think it’s only fair that you do, so, go ahead. Answer it.”

Now, there were two ways you could’ve answered this. Which one did you choose? The one you knew would get the better reaction, of course. “Make me.”

One step later, you were already back up against the tree, seemingly nowhere to go (you could easily step to the side), and Thomas right in front of you, head tilted downwards to look at you because of the height difference. “I don’t think you really want me to. You’re just saying that.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” You whispered lazily, a small gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He brown ones bored into yours, an almost-mischievous glint behind them. He leaned down, his mouth inches from your ear, his hand against the tree on the other side of your head. “Maybe I will.”

You couldn’t help the way your knees felt weak, something about his voice; the raspiness embedded in his low, deep tone. “Maybe you should.” You breathed out, watching him pull back, his eyes flicking between your eyes and somewhere else.

His other hand slid around your waist, large palm being a source of heat as if the night air wasn’t already warm enough. It was torturous, the way his lips ghosted around your skin, every area he passed felt empty after the heat of his presence left, the way you felt his breath brush her face when he laughed at his own teasing actions.

His hand slid around to your lower back, pulling it forward in an arch as your upper back stayed against the tree. Thomas looked down at you, the very tip of his nose so close to yours that the heat radiating from him felt like he was actually touching you. You bit the inside of your cheek, never good with the whole ‘patience’ thing.

Thomas, on the other hand, could’ve dragged this out all night. But when he met your gaze, the look in your eye let the thought slip from his mind. It was when you whispered some words that didn’t quite stick in his brain against his lips, that’s what got to him. He bent down and connected your lips, the kiss wasn’t a slow, savoring-every-moment type of kiss. It was a hungry, sloppy, impatient kiss that made it seem like he was devouring you.

It was needy and heated, more teeth-clashing and tongue-tangling than anything. His lips were chapped and rough, but then again so we’re yours after two years in the glade.

His lips trailed down your cheek, then your jaw, then right under your jawline, nipping at the surprisingly soft skin. His lips followed your jawline until they were right under your ear, finding a sweet spot you didn’t even know you had.

You breathed out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as your head tilted backwards, hitting the bumpy bark of the tree. To your left was his outstretched arm that he used to hold himself up against a the tree, and to your right was his head, slightly buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered the spot with little nips as kisses. He freehand—the one that was on your lower back—slipped down to the curve of your ass, squeezing all around the plump skin.

“How’s this for getting to know you?” He breathed against your skin.

You bit your lip, just a little, but enough that his scrutinizing gaze caught it. “I think you, uh, you should get to know me just a little better, y’know?” You said, a small lump in the back of your throat that wouldn’t go down.

“Hmm, think I should, huh?” He teased.

“Mhm, yeah… y-you should.” You nodded, teeth gliding over your own bottom lip as you tugged his hair gently so he’d look up at you.

The heel of Thomas’s palm dug into your ass, prompting you to jump up a little. To jump right into his arms. Your thigh hitched up on his waist, his hand gliding from your ass to under your leg, finger tips reach the the inside of your thigh. Your other foot steady on the ground— well, would’ve been steady if you hadn’t stepped on a tree stump. Your footing faltered, twisting your ankle in the process and you pulled from the recently rekindled kiss to wince.

He chuckled and lifted up your other thigh, practically holding you up until you got the hint to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back was pressed into the tree, bare shoulders are partially-bare upper back collecting scratches and green moss smudges.

Thomas didn’t waste anymore time, the fingers of his free hand already sliding down your torso and half under the waistband of your jeans. He only stopped for a brief moment, looking up at you as you nodded back—maybe a little too eagerly.

He didn’t even bother to unbutton them or unzip them for the time being, his fingers twitching with the thought of touching you in mind. While he was just as impatient as you, he still managed to find the will in him to tease you. Two of his veiny fingers swipes over your panties, starting at the beginning of your wetness and dragging them all the way up to your cloth-covered clit. You couldn’t deny nor hide it anymore, you were soaked—rather, your panties were.

“Damn, this all for me? Guess you liked the idea of me proving you wrong, huh?” He taunted.

Your eyes bore into his like you wanted to say something snarky, but you literally could not lie. He felt it. He felt what he did to you. He knew the slight power he had over you—although you were sure he didn’t quite know just how much power he possessed.

Reluctantly, you tenaciously nodded up at him, just a very slight head movement that you hoped he’d miss, but of course he didn’t. You were grateful he didn’t respond, with words anyway, but you could see see the glint in his eye that made you want to kick him, slap him, anything you could to get your point across. But he made you weak in the knees, figuratively and literally since one of his hands was under your ass holding you up, your legs raveled around his waist and connected at his lower back.

At first, when you felt his hand leave your ass, you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed by the loss of touch, or to expect your body to hit the ground. But it didn’t. He had you pinned against the tree, your legs already locked tightly around him, your arms slung around his neck.

His, now free, hand glides around to the front of your thigh, up your stomach (it would’ve gone under your shirt if he didn’t have other plans), over your tank top-covered breasts, fingers stopping momentarily to knead the dough-y flesh, and making their final stop around your throat just below your jaw—palm pressing against your airway loosely, pointer and thumb fingers settling below your ears on either side of your head.

The fingers caressing your sopping panties also became more active; drawing slow lines up and down.

“T-Thomas,” you stuttered, not because he hand was that tight, but simply because it was tight enough to warrant a gasp present in your words. “Don’t tease me.”

You were really in no position to be the one saying commands, but it was the sheer stubborn-confidence that impressed him enough to consider the choked out words. “As you wish.” He spoke, slipping two fingers past your panties, the material bunching to the side, and right into you without any warning. Well, to be fair he did give you a warning, just no time to process before you felt his long, slender fingers gliding against your walls.

“Fuck— Thomas.” You breathed out, your tone a little whiny. You were almost embarrassed at how easily you gave in, how easily you let him get you this way.

He gave your throat one last little squeeze and dropped his hand down to one of the straps on your tank top. He was considering sliding it under your shirt, but then he’d have to go through more trouble to get it off seeing as you were leaned against a tree. So, Thomas decided to take what he knew you’d give, and he tugged at the straps.

You knew your standards were low when consent made your heart swoon, feeling the nervous hot-and-cold sweats rack your body. But being the only girl in the glade, you were glad someone other than your friends was showing you respect…ish.

After seeing your nod, he slid the strap down and you pulled your arm back and through the thing fabric piece, the same was done on the other side. Thomas’s fingers were barely moving, too slow even for his teasing pace, but his brain had a little more focus on what he was trying to do with one hand.

A few seconds later, and you were gasping at the sudden coldness you felt against your pert nipples. It was an odd sensation, the glade was always hot yet when your bare chest was exposed, the air felt cool.

The chilled breeze caused the buds to instantly harden, making something of Thomas’s harden as well. “Shit, angel, no bra?”

You hadn’t worn a bra since today was one of those days— the ones with low energy, restless sleep barely giving you enough stamina to will yourself throughout the day. “No…” you admitted, almost shamefully.

Before you could even think, lips were wrapped around the sensitive buds, a tongue flat as it pressed over the top. You let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a small moan, finger tangling in his hair automatically.

Thomas simply couldn’t leave your other side untreated, so he rolled your other nipple between his fingers while fucking you with the other hand. Every sound you made, whether it be a sigh, a moan, a whimper, a small whine of his name, each and every one of them seemed to be egging him on more. Like small pleas and begs for more of his touch.

And whether you knew it or not, that exactly what they were; your body whining, aching for anything he’d give you, grateful for the plainest stroke of his digits in your wet cunt, or the effortless drag of his smooth tongue across your pebbled nipple.

Somewhere between small praises and straight-up degradation, you manages you end up without any clothes and Thomas’s pretty face between your legs as you stand there against the tree; teeth clenched, thighs trembling, fingers scratching at his scalp leaving a stinging sensation in their wake. It felt good— the burn of your jagged nails against his already sensitive scalp, the sun un-ironically taking part in making sure it would hurt him.

The tree bark dug into your bare back as you simultaneously pushed yourself up on your tip-toes, squirming at the sensation of his tongue on your clit becoming too much, yet tugging his face further between your wobbly thighs with the grip you had on his brown hair.

Thomas decided he liked you best when you were like this; a sweaty, moaning, whimpering, indecisive mess for him— despite only speaking his first words to you less than an hour ago.

And quite frankly, you couldn’t care less. The only thing spurring you on, giving you the shamelessness needed to give yourself up like this was the undying need to cum. He had be fucking edging you this whole damn time, yet you couldn’t complain. Not while he was pleasuring you at least. Your protests came after you didn’t—after the way he’d suck on and swirl his tongue around your swollen bud, getting you right there, only to pull away as you were about to topple over the edge.

It might not have been verbal, but maybe you’d give his hair a particularly harsh yank, or dig your nails into his raw scalp with as much strength as you could muster. Unbeknownst to you, Thomas enjoyed it. He loved the way you whined and squirmed, body begging for a release even if your mouth was too stubborn to communicate it. He loved the pain you inflicted on him, the pricking sensation hurting so bad—yet not enough—that it felt good.

“Did I get you to change your mind yet, Angel?” Thomas spoke against your cunt, lips glistening with you juices, eyes dark as he looked up at you with a captivating stare that you fell prisoner to time and time again.

You bit down on your lip brutally, the discomfort not even phasing you anymore. You were sure your lips would be bruised and possibly bloodied in the morning for more than one reason. “Thomas… please,” There it was. The first real plead that spilled from your lips. Not the desperate whines or frustrated grunts you’d given him earlier, but an actual word that put your need on full display.

And it sounded better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“What’s wrong, princess? Am I not good enough for you?” He cooed, tone mocking your desire so damn condescendingly that if it were anyone else you’d send their skull flying against the maze walls.

But you couldn’t resist, he had you under his spell, wrapped around his finger. And you knew it. You both knew it. “Fuck me, make me cum… just do something for fucks sake!” Your voice held a guise of irritation and rage, but just behind that was the exact whininess that he was looking for.

“I think I like the sound of you begging for me. It’s pretty.” He whispered, whether to himself or you, you couldn’t find it in you to give a fuck anymore.

Thomas stood up, large hands sliding up the sides of your bare body, soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. A whimper slipped from your swollen lips, the feeling of his hands setting your body ablaze, leaving goosebumps only the chilly day’s managed to give you in their wake. You felt like you were sweating buckets, yet the warmth radiating off his wide hands (or maybe you were just small) left the rest of your figure feeling frigid.

His lips wet lips met yours, hand meeting your throat as you gasped lightly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he poked and prodded at your own. You didn’t even have to think about how easily you let him in, you blatantly followed his command no matter what form in came in without a second thought.

Fingers feeling needy, you reached for his belt and he slotted his knee between your thighs, pinning you against the tree for the umpteenth time tonight. However, you didn’t hear a protest or receive a firm look coded with a not-so-hidden message, so you proceeded with your actions, fingers fumbling with the flimsy metal piece until you hear the telltale clanking sound of his belt slithering through the denim loops and clashing against the dirt floor.

His jeans dropped next, nothing to hold them up or keep them in their place as you unzipped them. His shirt had been discarded earlier, just before he got to his knees in front of you, so it was one less article of clothing in your way.

But that didn’t matter, the only one you care about was still on him. Dainty fingers lightly brushed over his bulge, your eyes dropping for just a second to catch a glimpse of his clothed size before you had to tilt your head back up due to the hand holding your throat. It was dark, but your eyes were well adjusted by now; well enough to see the tent his erection formed as you unintentionally teased him.

Your hands were impatient, your whole being was impatient, but you could at least do something about the need to have your hands around him. After practically grabbing his hard-on through his boxers, palming it roughly for just a second, you didn’t even wait to get your hands inside his boxers. Immediately, you tugged your hand up his length, his impressively long length. He groaned, cock already throbbing, twitching at the thought of being buried inside you.

The noise almost took you by surprise, and you were almost proud of yourself for being the cause. You brought your left knee up his thigh, situating it comfortably in the groove of his hip, and pushed down the remaining fabric. His free hand assisted you and helped slide the other end down until he kicked away the item that he’d be searching for in the darkness later.

Digits finding his hardness again as you continued to make out, your thumb carelessly swiped over his slit as you handled his tip, collecting the bead of precum that had you wetter than the brook you were settled by during previous hours. He felt the heat of your fingers disappear, only to return moments later with arousal that couldn’t’ e been just his.

You coated his shaft with your sticky mixture, eliciting a deep groan from the back of Thomas’s throat. Regardless of you having the last few touches that made gave other pleasure, he still wanted to remind you who was really in control.

His fingers tightened around the column of your throat, his body pressing you into the tree even more, hard enough for you to feel each ridge of wood jabbing into your back. You felt his knee pushing up against your cunt, your slick automatically coating his thigh as you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. He smirked—you didn’t see—, your actions appearing needy, so much so, that they were almost pathetic.

“It’s hot as fuck knowing I made you this wet, that I got you to the point where you don’t give a fuck about how pathetic you seem, the only thought in your brain is the desire for pleasure. For me to fuck you, huh?” His words were spat with hot breath waving against your cheek, it was hard not to give in and accept his words.

“Please, Tommy… need you inside me,” until the words came out, you weren’t aware of how shameless they’d be, of how much you sounded exactly like he described. “‘nd I know you do too.” you added shortly after in an attempt to recollect some of your dignity. Didn’t work. He saw right through you.

But what did work what the whine you put on his name, the one that few called him, but only you could have him contemplating between fucking you like a normal person, or fucking you for so long and hard that neither of you could walk straight or have any cum left to give. Obviously there was only one choice in his eyes, but you couldn’t see it. You could only see blown pupils, so wide that just a sliver of brown, lust-tainted color rimmed the pitch-black darkness.

You resumed the position you were in earlier; legs squeezed tight around his waist as if your life depended on it, ankles locked in the back, heels digging into his spine a few inches above his tailbone. Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck, while his hand was settled at the base of yours.

Striving to be a tease, Thomas watched your reactions while he rubbed his tip up and down your wetness, starting from your hole, up to the top of your clit, then back down. Something about the moves, so calculated, so precious, so damn taunting that it almost seemed like he was mocking you, it was all becoming too much. He had been edging you all night—well, enough to to feel like it was all night—that you knew he was nearing the end of his limits as well.

Impatient by nature, Thomas merely gave your throat a warning squeeze before he slipped his tip inside. He may have been ruthless with his teasing, yes, but he wasn’t heartless. He waited, kept his hips still against his own will until you nodded or squeezed his hair each time you wanted him to push in just a smidge further. He praised and affirmed you with words you didn’t even process since the only thing your mind could focus on was the contrast of pleasure with a little bit of sting. You wanted nothing more for him to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking your stupid—and so did he—, but you decided it best for you to take it slow. At first.

Once his hips were flush with yours, hard cock filling you in ways you didn’t even know existed, you adjusted your legs around his waist, shifting until the discomfort went away mostly. You didn’t even nod or give and indignation before you bucked your hips against his, causing a sigh to fall from his pink, kiss-bitten lips, while a light moan fell from yours. He took that as his sign you were ready, and he slowly pulled his hips from yours with a semi-gentle test thrust first before he saw you were okay, then he picked up his pace in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.” He groaned against your neck, hot breath symbolizing a warning before his lips were all over the soft skin.

You whimpered, your hands automatically lacing in his hair and tugging at the roots, nails occasionally scratching at his scalp. You don’t know how long your hand stayed like that before realizing you needed something better to grasp, to hold on and cling to like your fate was dependent on it.

One are tucked under his, the other following suit, and soon both hands were clawing down his back, the feeling prompting Thomas to pound away harder. Teeth against your neck let you know that you’d have to wear your hair down for the next few days, and possibly skip meals at the homestead to avoid being seen as well. Even so, you didn’t care right now. You were to wrapped up in the way his fucked into you, mercilessly pounding away at you pussy, the wet squelching sounds coming from where the two of you were connected absolutely sinful.

You knew the gladers had gone to sleep however long ago, but you also knew that a few had a hard time sleeping. Thank god Chuck had knocked out before you came out here.

The threat of getting caught is what caused you to bury your face in his shoulder, head leaning against his outstretched arm that was holding the tree for support. You nips and suck at the skin of his collarbone right where it connects to his shoulder, albeit much weaker and definitely less effort put in than him, but it gives you something to do, along with practically gouging your uneven nails down his sweaty back, to keep your mind off the seething moans that threaten to rip from your throat.

After awhile of hearing you go silent and feeling the pressure of both your lips and fingers on his skin increase, Thomas grows annoyed with your lack of sound. You feel his hand leave your throat, but you don’t exactly process it, your brain overwhelmed with too many things to worry about the loss of touch, but you do feel where it ends up. Your head is abruptly yanked back, yet somehow as gently as possible although is still leaves a pained sensation. Thomas’s fingers were in between the weaves of your—now very loose and incredibly messy—braid, forcing you to look at him as he fucks you. He seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“Don't muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I'm fucking you.” Without a barrier to block your noises, you let out a moan at his words alone. And then everything comes crashing down. You give up on trying to quiet yourself, only having enough left in you to chase that feeling that leaves you whining incoherent words that maybe he understands, digging and clawing at any available surface you can get you dainty little fingers on (which is most likely his back or shoulder), and letting yourself go completely—letting him take care of you.

And boy does he know how to take care of you. For someone you’ve never spoken a word to until tonight, he knows how to fuck you right. He knows how to have you in his arms, body practically limp and a deadweight which only impales you more on his dick. And when he hears that you’ve given in to more than just his one request by letting your jaw fall slack, any moans or whimpers just free to waltz out, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, voice deep and slightly raspy; “Good girl.”

He feels the way your fingernails grips his shoulders harder, possibly hard enough to draw blood, and the way your already-tight walls clench around him even more. Something in his mind clicks for him that doesn’t for you, probably because your too busy with the way he fills you up so damn well his tip kisses your cervix each time you come back down on him and he fucks back up.

“You like being called a good girl, huh? You like being told how good you feel around me, being praised for doing what I say like the good girl you are?” He knows what he’s doing at this point. But that was stop you from enjoying it nonetheless.

“F—yeah, fuck, I do.” You agree with what little sanity to have left, mustering a nod that almost spends every ounce of energy.

Your eyes have him in a trance; watery, pupils blown, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes he could ever think of. Except he knew you weren’t innocent.

“I bet no one else fucks you like this, huh, angel? No one else gives you princess treatment because they’re too busy trying to find a way to get in your panties to even think about treating you right. But a part of you likes it, don’t you?” You merely whined, words failing you as he smirked and kept going. “You like the fact that half the guys here probably jerk off to the thought of you when they’re alone, think of you as some little slut that everyone gets a turn with in their minds. The glade’s own whore, hmm?”

“F-Fuck, Thomas,” you whimper, the feeling his words give you turning into physical pleasure, not just for yourself, but for Thomas as well when he feels your warm walls squeezing around his shaft.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it; just whoring out and fucking every guy in this place? But your so damn innocent—too damn innocent, it’s why half the guys here can’t seem to get their mind off you.” He grunts between thrusts, as if his hips slamming into yours punctuates each word. “Don’t worry, after tonight I think enough people around here will have learned who got to fuck you. I’ll treat you right, princess.”

Both hands clenched at whatever they can, and Thomas feels the crescent-shaped nail marks already imbedding themselves in his shoulder and nose of his neck.

You were getting undeniably closer, and you were afraid that he might edge you again. Hell, you were afraid that you let him have that much power over you. In spite of your efforts, your own voice adding to the ringing in your ears as you bucked your hips downwards— if even possible with the force he had you pressed against the tree with. “Don’t stop… please, please don’t stop, Tommy.” You begged, pathetically desperate for him to finally let you release.

“Only if you keep making those pretty little sounds, angel.” And you did; effortlessly obeying his commands, when in reality it was inevitable that your sounds escaped at some point. You just didn’t hold back at all. At least you didn’t talk to very many people, otherwise they would’ve been suspicious of your barely-there voice if the hadn’t already heard you screaming the night before.

His thrusts became irregular, and at first you thought he was going to tell you that you didn’t do well enough for him, seize yet another orgasm from you like he had been doing all night. What you didn’t realize was that he was slowing down to edge himself, not wanting to cum to early or before you did.

Thomas decided you wouldn’t mind a few scratches on your back, maybe a few splinters, ‘cause it sure as hell looked like you wouldn’t give a damn right now, so he took his supporting hand off the tree and encased it around your throat, admiring the way his hand seemed to swallow you whole. His free hand fled to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud as you cried out his name. It was mindless, you hadn’t even realized it. That’s what made it so fucking hot.

Time and time again, you continued to impress him with how easily you could be controlled, completely fucked out to the point you only knew his name and the word ‘please’. “Atta girl. That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking you like this.” You whimpered his name again, the word simply rolling off your tongue without a thought. He wasn’t even sure if you said it because you followed orders so well, or if it was really the only thing you could say.

“T-Thomas, shit—fuck, I’m g—” your sentence was left unfinished since you couldn’t breathe, your lungs on fire just like the rest of your skin. It could’ve been from the way Thomas’s hand was unconsciously restricting your airway a little too much, though, once he noticed he eased up. Either way, he got your message loud and clear. And he could feel his own release brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“Please… please don’t stop this time. I-I can’t take it anymore… need to cum.” You whined between shallow breaths before he could even speak.

His pace and force picked up to almost inhuman speeds, basically fucking you into the tree behind you. “I won’t, I promise.”

As if the words didn’t register, mindless pleas were pouring from you, “I have to—’m so close, Tommy, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too, alright? So your gonna be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” It wasn’t until his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves he was previously circling, did his words finally sink in.

Along with his gentle demand came your orgasm that you didn’t know had been so close the whole time. Your walls enveloped him so tight he was sure his dick would slip out, but it didn’t. It stayed inside your warm, velvety wetness, twitching but thrusting sloppily throughout your high as his neared.

You were seeing stars, and you were pretty sure they weren’t the ones in the night sky above you. Your nails dug so harshly into his chest and back that your fingers aches, and you could only imagine the number you’d done on him. The feeling was euphoric, sure you’d never come down from the drunken-high feeling. Your thighs shook, muscles spasming as your nerves felt like they were frying at the slight overstimulation he was giving you.

Feeling you cum around him, his cock twitched inside you, soon giving into the demands of your velvety warmth and wet squelching sounds. “Fuck, shit—such a good girl, angel… such a good fucking girl for me.” He moaned out, his voice the softest it’d been yet, but still somehow possessing the same roughness as before.

You felt a hot-warmth gush inside you, your face already buried deep in his shoulder again as you physically could not keep your head up. “Just for you.” You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled to the brim, his hand coming off your throat to slide around the back of your neck in a somewhat-comforting hold. The feeling of being taken care of.

#the maze runner #tmr thomas #tmrthomassmut #thomastmrsmut #thomas tmr

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caguaydreams · 2 years

Note

JOTAHAN FANWORKS IS A03???

I DONT KNOW HOW TO USE THE WEBSITE SO LIKEE-

CAN U LINK SOME OF THEM

A fellow Jotahan enjoyer is DESPERATE for the crumbs. The time has come, I shall unveil my true nature in order to lend you a hand. We'll survive this together, Anon!

Ohhh boy, where to even begin. I know the bewildering absolute lack of fanart out there and my comment about crumbs might sound discouraging, and could make it seem like a worse situation than it actually is. But do not fret! AO3 got ur back! (I must apologise in advance for rambling, but honestly many of these fics are amazing and I owe their writers my life. Feel free to scroll down to the bit where I put the links to fics, lists, and authors that sometimes carry this ship on their backs).

I'm gonna list a bunch that I've recently been bookmarking in the website, as part of my months long personal crusade to read every single Jotahan work up there, and I'm kinda halfway through now I think, so I've got the stuff. Currently, there's a total of 393 Jotahan fics on the Archive, not all of them are the best quality, naturally, but that's okay, because the good fics are— and I'm gonna stress this out— The. Shit. Some Jotahan writers are wonderful masters of their craft, to the point you'll most likely eventually forget that, canonically, Rohan and Jotaro barely even exhange a few words in the first place! There is utterly delightful, suuuch delectable material here; fics that made the ship for me and elevated it from lol funny crackship to one of my top tier favorite romances/relationships of all time, in all of media, period.

You'd think, initially, that authors have to do some crazy acrobatics to settle on how they'd go about fulfilling the task of feeding dying starving suckers like me; how they'd go about making a relationship between these characters believable and feasible. But! surprisingly, there have come to be actual tropes in Jotahan narratives, stemming from how oddly natural their dynamic flows when you just give it some thought. My brain decided to conclude one day, that this is sorta like stepping into different possibilities of how Rohan and Jotaro would hit it up, because some fics can be quite similar in their approaches, but nonetheless distinctive and remarkable all the same. These characters can work SO well together, for better or worse, that there's no questioning it anymore for me. You'll understand, or maybe not (maybe you already do) but regardless I think you'll have fun checking these out!

So without further ado, and before I go on an errand of an essay about how this ship deserves more love and attention than it gets, I'm gonna drop the links. I know AO3 can look messy or be intimidating for people who are not familiar with the interface, but the first thing that will come in handy is knowing about pairing tags: your typical character/character tag that is often the first one you see following the title of a fic. If its got the characters of your preference, click on it, and you'll be sent to all the works in the Archive that feature that tag . You can start browsing for goodies from there! here's the tag to the huge assortment of fics starring the couple of mildly disfunctional adults that we want to see together.

And here is a lil bit of my latest (on-going) effort to build up a personal list of favorites and must-reads:

Underneath Perfection by Shorktooth ; I'm gonna be biased, because this one right here is my absolute. favorite. Nothing comes close. I'm even getting a little emotional by barely thinking about it. Actually, not entirely sure, but it was the fic that first sold me on this pairing when I wanted to give it a chance. Get-together fic, fairly long but definitely worth it. Not tedious, very fun, lots of variety, lots of incredibly sweet moments, it's a good deal all around. Of course there are little details here and there that keep it from being perfect, but they're minor and insignificant when viewing the whole picture. Much respect for how the author handles these characters, the progression of events, the story's pacing, and overall how organic everything feels; how natural. There are a bunch of scenes that have been embedded in my mind for months, and bits of dialogue I even reference and feel are strongly akin to what Jotaro or Rohan would actually say, even if this is fanwork. Okay, okay, I'll stop here because I'm saving my final thoughts for when I finish reading this story; Stone Ocean's animated adaptation must reach its end first. This fic follows Rohan and Jotaro across parts 4 to 6 of JJBA, so if anyone's avoiding spoilers they might have to be wary of those, skip this fic, or put it on hold like I did. Can't wait for part 6 to be over so I can get back to this work lmao. Its ending will probably crush me and be painful as hell but I don't care

How Soon Is Now? by Morioh-Cho-Radio (crimsonherbarium) ; Listen, one cannot talk about Jotahan fanfiction without mentioning "How Soon Is Now?". Underneath Perfection is my personal favorite no questions asked, but this series??? this is a must-read. Mandatory almost. Fuck, I haven't even gotten past the first three or four works in this collection but I tell you it's amazing (forever saving the rest for when I have the time to sit down and immerse myself into it because it is that special). It's got 10 single chapter stories in total, varying in lenght. Crimsonherbarium is one of those authors that manage to rightfully appropiate these characters and what they're about; nothing feels out of place, and the writing is just *chef kiss* it is thoroughly polished and hooks me in instantly, every single time. This fanfic even has its own playlist! and the songs selection, both for it and the fic titles, I think is fitting as hell for Jotahan, what else can I say?? read this series. go go go!!! have a feast!!

oh i know (it goes on, it gets old) by theultimateburrito ; Oh man... this one is something else. Is its own thing, I believe. Single chapter, kind of a long read, but you'll be enthralled. Feels like a novel, and it's not ncesarily out there, romantically speaking. The words I'm looking for to describe it are subtlety, and patience. It's a very unique short story that features comfortable company, familiarity, introspection, Rohan being his insatiably curious self, and one intriguing mystery that sounds straight out of Araki's work. I won't spoil it, but there's a particular place that I didn't even know existed irl until I read this fic and that on itself is maddeningly funny to me.

Now, some improvised picks of mine, done in speedreading fashion, because I've read too many works by now and can't actually think of what to put in here (keeping this list relatively brief and simple was more difficult than I thought). A list consisting of short stories to pick up on the go, separated by the general feeling I get from them:

Short and sweet:

Art Kids by anarchaick ; mild parallels made between Rohan and Noriaki, as well as Jotakak mentions are quite common. How these affect the mood of the story or the nature of Rohan and Jotaro's relationship is up to the fic, but in this one that is simply heartwarming

old recipe, new need by bishounen_curious ; this one's a sickfic, and it encapsulates some aspects of their dynamic SO well. I love this ficlet. It's all in the details, and the Domesticity

Ecotone by kujo (curricle) ; please read this one. That's it just read it. It is plain, bitesized perfection

the loneliest whale by pinkdarkboy ; wholesome, cute, and works as a comfort story

Short and steamy (not necesarily explicit):

Falling In Love by Kinda sad this one's by an orphan account :') regardless, it is a great read

Short and angsty/bittersweet:

It Is What It Is by illmoure ; .... sigh. Conflicting feelings about this one, but because it is an incredible work expertly written to achieve that purpose. Also, last Jotahan fic (yet...?) by one of the BEST writers for this ship. I'll later just drop a link to them directly

Save the speeches, flowers are for funerals by Morioh-Cho-Radio (crimsonherbarium) ; Hanahaki disease, I eat that shit up. It is the perfect combination of angst and romantic yearning, and as it is to be expected from this fic's writer here, this is another banger.

Short and funny:

useless questions by bishounen_curious ; weed shenanigans. It's pretty humorous, but that isn't mutually exclusive with tenderness, or physical intimacy. Therefore, I was torn between putting this one under the Short And Steamy category, but the first half is fairly hilarious on its own right so, yeah.

the death of kishibe rohan (1999, colorized) by oredatte ; Rohan being ridiculous, give it a read if you're looking for pure absurdity. Just satire here, and a bit of second-hand embarrasment

Short AU ficlets that are really nice:

A Sort of Homecoming by Morioh-Cho-Radio (crimsonherbarium) ; Japanese folklore inspired, in which Rohan is a yokai inhabiting a long abandoned place that belongs to Jotaro's family. I JUST noticed the fic was temporarily removed, but I read it long ago and still remember how beautiful it was. Actually, anything written by Morioh-Cho-Radio is absolute gold. ... pssst, you can still find this story via the Wayback Machine, but you didn't hear it from me—

Beyond the Sea by illmoure ; Mermay fic :) Marine Biologist Kujo Jotaro has a fascinating encounter. This one's just straight up lovely and refreshing

tears of heliades by pinkdarkboy ; inspired by the tale of Pygmalion and Galatea from Greek mythology

I was planning on listing authors who deserve way more than a honorable mention, but the post was getting too long, and I simply find it hard to rush a selection like that. Maybe some other time? Although, definitely do check out some of the writers whose work has already been featured above!

Oof.... Being honest, there are many more titles I wish I could just gather in one place but I haven't had the time yet. This pairing has provided me with an endless amount of comfort, besides being mostly a what-if scenario, but it quickly turned just as important to me as the source material it came from. Fanfiction can feel just as valid and impactful as media published by conventional means, and I'll think about these stories from here on out, long after I found them. I'll think of these characters, and the silly little made up reality in my head where they're genuinely happy, finding comfort and a safe space with each other, growing and developing with time, and it'll make me smile like a total fool. I really don't mind that in the slightest 🎶

#jotahan #lmao why can't I be normal about anything ever #should put up an additional warning that makes it known what one faces against when they ask me anything remotely related to my interests #Welcome to rarepair hell my dudes #should also be technical about the matter at hand and say that Jotahan is more of a crackship than a rarepair #although honestly at this point I consider them canon.... Listen—#—there's nothing in there that contradicts this pairing so I'm choosing to die on this silly hill of my own concoction #sigh... there were a couple of truly amazing fics I couldn't find nor their creators so I'm assuming they're lost media now. Ah well #at least I got to enjoy them at some point <3 #shutupcaguay #I feel the need to make actual fanart for this ship but something is holding me back. That something being my own anxious self dammit #must figure out how to manage my time better #longpost #just in case

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fencesandfrogs · 1 month

Text

Omegaverse questions from this post

This is my personal worldbuilding — everyone has different answers and if you want to answer these questions for urself please tag me in it I’d love to read different interpretations

What’s the talk like?

Aside from how sex ed should be more like an ongoing conversation, there is an extra layer to it about heats and those hormones. On the other hand no periods so that’s not a layer?

When do you learn if you’re an alpha/beta/omega?

Usually at birth. That being said, beta females and omega females aren’t distinguishable until puberty (or w genetic testing), and some beta females are hard to tell apart from alpha females at birth, but are usually distinguishable before kids start attending school. In general, alphas are identified at birth.

Is there bad sex ed?

Of course there is! In my worldbuilding heats span from mild inconveniences people carry on their daily lives during to disabling. Os with “lighter” heats might not realize they’re having them. But since there’s not really much hiding, only O females really have a chance at being surprised. I write things in fairly equal proportion — like, alphas are equally men and women — so there’s not a ton of assumptions about what someone is.

What do people do for work during heats?

Work if they can, call out if they can’t. It was historically an issue for hiring omegas, because the assumption was that they would need a bunch of time off over the season (roughly spring to fall), but in the modern day there are protections. You’d probably need a doctor’s note for irregular heats, since most Os would be able to say something like “four days every eight weeks.” Cycles vary a lot, tho, as few as once per season to more than once per month.

What do two alphas do if they fall in love?

Assuming modern times, they’re just omegaverse-gay? Historically A/A wasn’t accepted in many cultures (ie ones M/M weren’t accepted in), so y’know. Sex wise, they do what works for them. And the alpha on the bottom would probably squeeze their knot so it’s not like. Uncomfortable.

Do heat cycles sync?

Yes and omegas absolutely nest together. A lot of the submissive + horny stuff is triggered by alphas being around so groups of omegas sometimes end up basically having a sleepover for a few nights until they decide they’re interested in taking a partner.

Alpha sex workers for in-heat omegas?

Absolutely. It’s definitely more publicly acceptable than sex work IRL but still probably not something you discuss more than once with your parents. (Y’know, like, a “this is what I’m doing now” convo and then u don’t discuss it again.)

Especially for Os who live/work around alphas but aren’t partnered. They might get the unpleasantness of wanting an alpha but not have anyone.

Chastity play/denial?

Would focus more on not being touched during a heat than not having them. I write heats as — not the exclusive time of sexual arousal, but certainly the center of it.* That being said, taking heat suppressants could totally be a kink? I think it’d more be from the angle of like…your own pleasure being secondary. Than denial.

*I write heats based on estrus cycles, and while some animals with estrus cycles have sex out of heat, it’s less common. In general, time out of heat is going to be a period of low libido, but not zero libido. Depends on the O.

#mine #omegaverse

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spiderlilac · 8 months

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thank u for tagging me @offdutym0del !!! good to know you’re a fellow spanish speaker 🥰

How many works do you have on AO3?

nine ! hoping to post another halloween one today though lol

What's your total AO3 word count?

98,890

What fandoms do you write for?

only hotd at the moment

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

born from delicate violence

ornery, scandalous & evil

the tides talk to me

life is a willow

take you to promised lands

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i do and i always will, even if it takes me a year to answer lmao. i highly appreciate anyone who takes the time off their day to comment on my silly stuff, and there’s just something deeply adorable in them saying what their favorite part was, what part made them feel this way, that way, etc. i wish i could kiss everyone who comments because they deserve it !

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i think it’s the third entry of the tides series, ornery, scandalous & evil. ngl pretty much all i had in mind was that i wanted it to be angsty and cram together as much characters as possible. i think it worked lmao. it also helped to set background on said characters too — like helaena and her kids, daeron and daemon. and the arrival of the very expected lucemond baby which was kinda ruined by luke. oopsie

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

weirdly enough, i think the grace of a rotting corpse is the happiest one. of course circumstances aren’t looking good, but both luke and aemond are tucked away in their happy little moments (which are kind of gross), and as long as alicent doesn’t know, they’ll be fine.

Do you get hate on fics?

lol the first time i posted omega aemond i got flooded with weird comments that suggested i was somehow disrespecting omega luke (??? 💀) but after that, everything was fiiiiiine.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

i do, the freaky kind— mostly because i like building up ‘intense’ scenes that end up in smut one way or another lol. the smut itself is just smut, but i enjoy the gymnastics around it.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

nope. if i ever did i don’t remember. i haven’t found two ‘fandoms’ or universes i’d like to mix personally

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah! someone once requested to translate one of my oneshots into portuguese for another fandom and i said yes. i felt so honored

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

no and honestly, i feel like that’s just not for me. i’ve got a very disorganized writing ‘process’ that is organized FOR ME so if i tried cowriting with someone who does it differently it would not work lol.

What's your all-time favourite ship

i feel like this changes every few months tbh. lucemond is my current fave, although there are other asoiaf ships i read about too like rheanicent

What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

oof. born from delicate violence maybe? listen, that fic was my baby. i loved it and i loved writing it last year, but as weeks went by i got into some bad thoughts and realized that this fic was written at an specific time of my life that i didn’t necessarily want to remember, and between the things to remember, was the inspiration for this fic. i still like it and i do think i still have the original doc for the finale, so perhaps i’ll post it one day, but i feel like posting an ending that’s not even properly edited just for closure will not make me feel right. i also don’t want to post anything that i consider lackluster, since i know a lot of people followed the story last year.

besides that, i had this lucemond thingy in the docs that was very angsty, during the dance era and all. i wrote an entire summary and started the first chapter. i finished and then i just didn’t like the idea anymore, so i left it there.

What are your writing strengths?

not sure about this one. i’d like to think dialogue, or maybe to set a scene. i’m very passionate about setting scenes lmao

What are your writing weaknesses?

definitely typos. also, i finish writing something, i read it a couple of times more to ‘edit’ then post it, so i feel like i don’t spend much time actually editing it ?? hopefully that makes sense. i don’t know how to write fluff without making myself cringe either, so it’s a constant battle

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

in fics that are not mine? i love it. for example, in hotd fics we see a lot of high valyrian stuff and i love when other authors use it as a creative resource. if translations are not available on the fic itself, sometimes i look up the word, sometimes just go with the context of the fic instead. the same with other languages; i don’t have a problem with it. now, writing it for my own fic is a whole different story. i don’t have the patience to add high valyrian in my fics, i prefer to dodge it or just refer to it instead lol. besides english i speak spanish, and if i feel a fic needs dialogue in another language, i’d choose spanish right away instead of trying to use a translator and butchering the poor language.

First fandom you wrote for?

omg i have no idea. i’m pretty sure it’s between marvel and some creepypasta fanbase.

Favourite fic you've ever written?

so far, my absolute favorite is mean bad dog. i love aemond’s clinginess and instability. i love luke’s moral dilemmas and how he tries to fix it all in his head. yum

i’m not tagging anyone but if u want to do it go ahead!!!! reading and making this thing were veeery entretaining.

#my fics

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cankersoregirl · 1 year

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8 Shows To Get To Know Me

Thank u for tagging me @jyuubin!!

Invader zim

I was a big nick/cartoon network kid & invader zim is just such a classic. I would watch the shit out of it, I’ve bought the whole series, the whole deal. When I was little I based my identity off of gir and when I was rewatching not too long ago I realized I still have so many lines memorized… it’s so silly and stupid and smart and gross I love it

My babysitter’s a vampire

Since this is a get to know me tag we’re like going through time with these series. This is another one I have lines memorized from! If I were to say which character I am it would be Rory and that is Important to know. A bunch of my friends love it too and we’ve rewatched it together it’s so fun whenever we do <3 another classic if u ask me

Merlin

If u asked me in like 2015-2017ish what my fav show is I probably would’ve said Merlin. And it stayed up there as a fav show for a WHILE. I’ve never been able to rewatch it bc of like. The Pain the finale caused me but I was obsessed with it when I did watch it. I had some huge multiship mindset going when I watched it and was shipping basically everyone together which I don’t think I’ve done for any other show… I watched tf out of the bts for it too. Like I was kinda in deep…

Skam/druck/skam austin

Is it cheating if I put a show and my two fav remakes LMAO… I’m a big skam girlie. We should all know this. I made this acc when druck was airing as a skam + remakes blog. I had a skam austin username for the longest time (rip gracefulnosplinters). The og is such a classic and gave me some of my fav pan rep (so did druck)! I was so so so obsessed and in my heart I still am. I’ll defend skam austin to the ends of the earth. I met some of the druck cast members (heyyy Lukas). I lived and breathed those clip drops in real time like they were AIR. I completed the Norwegian duolingo course and my streak is still going. But really which skam viewer has ever been not entirely invested in the series. I’ll stop now cuz I could talk Forever about it all…

The untamed

Oh god. If you knew me when I first watched cql I’m genuinely so sorry… I would NOT shut up. It was every other word out of my mouth. I related every goddamn thing I saw to the show. It consumed me for MONTHS. As in I literally couldn’t watch anything else until a few months later after binging all sorts of bts, adaptations, and reading parts of the novel (funny thing is I still haven’t seen all adaptations/everything lmao). I always say it’s a good thing I couldn’t legally drive people when I was in this phase cuz I ONLY listened to/played the fucking character osts in the car for months like I knowww my mom was sick of it (she’s the only one who had to deal with me in the car lmfao). It was also the first time I ever actually made a sideblog for anything. I found the show at a very fitting time in my life too. Probably one of the hardest times ever but some of the themes in the series stuck with me in ways that felt so personal. A lot of love here

Kinnporsche

Another one I was super invested in at the time. Would not shut tf up about vegaspete. Very annoying about. Rewatched tf out of it. You know the drill. The few months I spent watching it was so eventful

HIStory2: crossing the line

Okay I think I’m really just in a HIStory mood lately but this fucking show. THESE TWO. YU HAO AND ZI XUAN. WHAT THE FUCK. The best way I can explain this is in a way no one else can understand: it appeals to a younger part of me in a very specific way. Like it’s scary. The chemistry is insane like going back to it after about a year still made me feel the exact same crazy way. One of the greatest losses caused by covid was the sequel that got cancelled 💔

Bad buddy

We all saw this coming. Gotta end with a bang. My favorite ql of all time. Insane to experience live and such a perfectly crafted show (thx p’aof). Layers upon layers of depth to write about (which like tbh every bad buddy fan basically has, me included). Just so much to love. Speaking of love: milklove origins too!!! We get it all from one silly little series. I remember exactly where I was so vividly when I experienced so many iconic scenes. It’s legendary!

I’m gonna tag @dumpsterslugz (I can tag you in things like this now >:D) @pondphuwin @heart-ming @markpakin & anyone else who wants 2 do this !!

#sorry this took a bit to do I was at school fjhsjf #tysm for tagging me again!!!#also one show almost made the cut and I went back and forth deleting and adding it but eventually just… No #tag game #b.txt

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ariadnasdiary · 2 years

Text

30 Questions of CP, OC & Fandom★

Mun Ari: I was tagged by @kindan-no-kanojo and @mino-diabolik thank you!! (Credit to @mukami-kuron-mrsadisticcat)

1. How long have you been in this fandom?

I think around 2015-2016(?. 2015 is when I found DL anime, but it was until months later that I got interested with the decond seasom. I started here in tumblr in 2016 and until 2017 I stsrted my OC blog. So… 6-7 years? Oh my…that much? 😳

2. Who's your fictional boyfriend/husband?

Kino my love <3. Since he made his appearance in 2017 and I read his route… puff! I'm in love~ lol. Up until now he has remind as my #1 husbando <3

3. Why do you like them?

For many reasons: we share some things from our past, so I can relate to him for that reason. Also, he's so funny (I love his sense of humor lol), how intelligent and witty he is (I love his role as the villain jijij), how childish and spoiled he can act, we share some hobbies and of course his appeareance and voice makes me weak! Also he's a cutie when he wants, I can't >////<

4. Have you make acquaintance with anyone that ships themselves with the same character?

Hell yeah! @mino-diabolik @kindan-no-kanojo and @eli-loversblog we are all happy members of Kino's harem jijijij

5. How do you feel about it?

Happy and proud. Kino is such a misunderstood character and therefore his fan base is so tiny!! So whenever I find someone that loves Kino AND has an OC with him is like another tiny victory!!

6. Do you feel any negativity towards them?

No? So far I've encounter very few Kino fans, but none has been toxic or something similar 🤷🏻‍♀️.

7. Do you like seeing their oc(s) interact with your man/woman?

As interact with Kino? Or with my OC? Or with both? The answer to all three is: absolutely yes! Kino deserves so much love and every new fan is great news! With Ari makes me feel super super happy for her to be loved and noticed! And with both as a couple makes my heart go 💗💗💗

8. Do you feel competitive against them?

I must admit that when I started I felt a little jealous with some (that are not longer active as far as I know) since they had more support and had the plus to be great artists so bring their ship's dream to reality.

Of course I got over it super fast and I focused on my own personal growth and so far I'm extremely happy to see more people liking and shipping Kino with their OCs!!

9. Confident, or pessimistic?

Eh? About what? My ship? If it's so then... neutral? I mean there were better times for the DL OC community, but understand that times changes and I'm busy with real life responsibilities, so I can't dedicate the time I use to give this blog. Of course is natural people left, others came and I stayed and to pass unnoticed is due to my lack of activity/interactions and such.

So is a 50/50. There are good days and bad ones.

10. Would you like more to get to know about your ship, or would you rather it being lowkey?

Honestly? I miss the old days and I wish I could be more active. But there are so much new people and my some friends are now gone... that I feel anxious. I'm super shy when it comes to socialize and interact with new people + my reduced time online... that is very hard for me. So, I would love to interact more, but I'm shy >/////<

11. Do you follow any of those people (them whom ship themselves with your fictional lover)

Of course! I try to send them asks from time to time and I always check them out whenever I enter here!

12. Are you friends with them?

I'd like to think that ;u; (I have interacted with their Muns and I talk to some more than others jejeje)

13. What do you think about the 'stans' ?

Good question... I'm not sure I know what it means 100%. I deduce you mean those who 'stan' a character as their fans(?.

I think everything in measure and balance is totally OK. You can ship yourself or an OC with them and be creative or have fun! HOWEVER! If your love becomes and obsession and it starts hurting or bothering others... then we have a problem. Is an issue when people believes they 'own' the character or are passive-aggressive with other fans. Excuses as 'I love them more than you do!' Or 'I'm the only one to understand them!' Or 'I'm their only and true girlfriend' is like: Get yourself a therapy~ you're desillusional 🤦🏻‍♀️

14. Are you worried about plagiarism or copying of your oc(s) by others?

There is always that risk. It does annoys me since is a work/creation I made myself and it took me time, work and even money to create.

It did happened to me not long ago that a person took a commission I payed and edited it to put her OC. She made a TERRIBLE work editing it (you know with paint or even Instagram colors), but fortunately she "vanished".

I'm low-key afraid some might steal any of my fanfics and post them as theirs in other platforms though... but I'm not that relevant or famous to worry about that lol. And I haven't made any commissions lately and I haven't seen my commissions around or edited so... I guess I'm fine?

15. How do you handle such a situation if it happens?

A friend was who told me about it and we both worked together to solve it (she was also a victim of that girl as she stole her OC almost everything [appearance, name, ship...] and in my case my commission). As I know what it feels like I try to tell the corresponding authors of the original piece if they are being victims of stealing so we can all work together to solve it.

16. Is your cp public or only between a particular circle of friends?

I'll assume my blog/ship. The answer is public: at this point many know my blog and OC lol.

17. Do you lock a specific cp ship, whats the reason? (I dare you to tag them~!)

Nop. So far I haven't block anyone.

18. What kind of behaviors do you suppose is pretentious to you?

If I understand correectly this question.... I think you mean attitudes that I don't like in fans?

I'll answer as such: I don't like when people thinks they can own a character or many just because they have theirs ocs paired with them. If they are all bark no bite, then you can just ignore them... but if they are those people that actually harass others that pisses me off. I don't get involve in online confrontations (cause' is pathetic really), unless they are attacking friends of mine in a very mean way. I'm ready to thows hands!

ALSO the thieves or tracers also annoys me, becuase their arguments and actions are stupid. 'I found them online! So I shared it!', 'I'm doing them a favor by posting it in my profile!' or 'Who are you to tell me what to do? I post what I want!'. UGH! HATE THEM! If you don't know how to draw: DON'T POST OTHER'S WORK!

Overall, I just find annoying those people that are immature or mean in general so I just avoid them.

19. What kind of comments do you dislike the most when it comes cp feedbacks of your oc(s)?

I haven't encounter any of the sort directed to me specifically? But I've seen what haters are willing to do.

I hate when they simply critize the OC in question with their stupid opinions like: 'I don't like your OC because is not pretty', 'she's ugly', 'she's a Marie Sue', 'she's a cheap copy of *insert character*', 'you need to improve your skills', or the best one 'I don't like your OC, stop shring her!' etc. Like: SHUT UP! NO ONE ASKED YOU. IF YOU DON'T LIKE A SHIP SIMPLY UNFOLLOW OR BLOCK. NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR DAMN OPINION.

20. Have you receive hates about your oc(s) before?

nop, thankfully. But if I encounter one, I'll simply block them~

21. Do you have a complete love story of your cp?

yep! Well... the official route is still incomplete lol. I'm missing some endings, but I haven't come up with something .-.

BUT I have created so many AUs that is impressive how many lives they have lived and fallen in love with :'D

22. Do you allow joint of alternate universe with the canon version of your cp story?

I just said it: AUs rock! I love them! ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES TO EXPLORE AND ENJOY FOR YOUR SHIP!!

Seriously, every idea has so much potential! that's why I have written so many~!

Don't hesitate to add Ari to any of your AUs!!!

23. Are you okay with people shipping their oc(s) with yours?

Sure! Sometims it's me who begs my Ari to be ship with others ocs [Mystic I'm looking at you!], but I haven't had luck(?

24. Ever gone through a bad experience in the fandom?

Not really(? Unless I have already forgotten or never noticed(?

25. The ocs that you admire in this fandom are? (Tag them~)

@kindan-no-kanojo (have you seen Scarlett? She's an icon! Her character is 100/10!)

@mino-diabolik (she has endure and survive the pass of time and Mystic is loved by many! #goals)

@violet-sin (she's not longer in the fandom nor tumblr, but all her OCs are magnificent!! Also, I was witness of her artists skills improvement and now I love her style!!)

@vixen-ocs (not longer in DL, but her self-insert was super pretty! I loved her!)

@eli-loversblog (she wasn't around for very long, but I liked her OC. I wished we could have interacted more ;-;)

@the-sloth-woman (she took the inicial idea [DL verse] and created an impire of her own... that's some mad skills. Also her writting talent is amazing!)

@invampirehellorheaven (not sure if she's still around [in this blog and her OC I mean], but she was an interesting character to interact with :D)

@lets-bewitched (she's more active on Instagram and we are good friends! I like Seina a hell lot!)

@lunaangel1010universe (Amina is lovely! Plus all her art pieces are amazing! I love how her story has development and even the many AU she already has!)

26. What is the moment that caused you to feel most disappointed or excited?

Excited? When the fandom was more active and many ocs interacted with each other! It was so much fun!

Sad? When all this stopped :'(

27. The scariest era that you have come across in the fandom?

The OCs war. The trinity of caos that existed in the fandom and all the people they scared due to this >:'v

28. The most wonderful thing you have come across in this fandom?

My friends that support me in all my blogs:

@sugar-lollipop @the-sloth-woman @kindan-no-kanojo @mino-diabolik @lunaangel1010universe @lets-bewitched and more <3

29. Say something towards those that support and admire your cp~

THANK YOU. YOU MEAN THE WORLD TO ME. YOU INSPIRE ME TO KEEP CREATING AND DO WHAT I LOVE!! I ADORE YOU ALL SINCE YOU ARE ALSO GOOD FRIENDS OUTSIDE TUMBLR!!! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH YOUR SUPPORT MEANS TO ME. IF MY DAY WAS A 25 OR A 50 YOU MAKE IT A 100!! THANK YOU!!!

30. You've worked hard, keep up the good work! ★★★

#ariadnasdiary #mun ari speaks #tag #30 questions of CP OC & fandom tag #thank you for the tag!#diabolik lovers oc

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heliosoll · 2 years

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"I know I'm being very cordial in this response but I do hope it comes across that I'm sorry about hurting your feelings." Bestie shut up that is your sincerity 😭 the way you handled that whole situation has me 🥺🥰 love u and this safe and drama free blog!! Also not sure if im overstepping here but i did want to give my unsolicited personal opinion (yikes) just because i think it would give some perspective to u maybe idk jskaka. You've mentioned a few times that you to some extent see yourself coming across as blunt or maybe even me@n (censoring that bc u r not spoiler alert) and i was trying to think of how to word and explain this and i must have ✨️manifested✨️ the answer bc u literally gave me the perfect example in the tags of the ask u posted after that. A lot of shifting/loa bloggers have that really weird coddling+mean thing going on, kinda condescending and makes the bloggies feel ashamed or a bother to ask for help. There's also a lot of entitlement between those who have and have not and then mixed in with the frustration from people who are not believing in results and all that stuff, you know how it is. You aint got none of that bs here. You're very patient and I'd like to think more than blunt, it's a better word to say simple. You don't try to fluff it up or 'ive answered this a hundred times already, yall need to stop overcomplicating lol'. It has a lot to do with the way someone speaks yanno? Even in a few asks ago, you were very empathetic and gentle in saying that you know it's frustrating to hear but persist in there not being a problem and then even suggested that blanket affirmation. That kind of understanding nature is so rare to come by and its the reason why for the last few months u have become the sole shifting blog i follow and while yes i am the one who 'did' everything, it was under your guidance that i have let go of so much anxiety and disbelief. You promote the barebone necessities on this blog and that's literally all u need to shift. No limiting beliefs or backwards bragging. Your shifting post can literally be summed up by 'intention is all you really need' but you made a whoooole post about the ins and outs plus fine print. Like any question someone could possibly have, any loophole or limiting belief that could arise, you think of it beforehand and address it before it can be asked. I see that dedication and I applaud you for that like you really out here feeding a bunch of shifters for FREE 🤧 Anyways my life is so much better after finding this blog and learning how to do things the proper way. Thanks for all the effort and not enforcing any miniscule limiting beliefs. I think most people would agree that ur very friendly, kind and generally a good person, not mean at all. I've never once felt frustrated, discouraged or uncomfortable here. You're like the cool senior who looks sharp but is actually really sweet and tells all the freshman which courses to take and how to pass the class. Tldr; ur not blunt, ur just stating the facts as u should and we love u for it. This blog has brought me a lot of sollace (see what i did there) so i wanted to take the time to write this all out bc ur like my fave person evurrrrr. This is uhhhh also a bit of a doozy to post so u can absolutely delete this after u read it lmao anyway love u bestie 💓

I don't think I'll ever be able to truly express how much this means to me. This is literally the nicest ask I've ever gotten! And a little embarrassing to admit but this made me tear up a bit. Everything you said is exactly how I wanted this blog to be for people. I wanted it to be a safe space for all kinds of shifters - new and experienced. I wanted it to be an easy going space with no limiting beliefs and acceptance of all different kinds of beliefs.

I can't thank you enough for this 🥺 It makes me really happy to know that so many people feel safe and comfortable here. And I'm so glad I was able to help you too! Every now and then I wonder if I'm actually helping people so it was really nice to hear :')

This ask helped me a lot actually because I can see where you're coming from! I think I just get worried that some of my more "to the point" answers could come off as mean to people but I can see why they wouldn't as well. I don't really know what else to say this is just such a sweet message and I'll be thinking about it for a long time. Thank you so much for taking the time to quell my worries and bring in a new perspective 🥺 It really helped!!

#bro im crying #😭#letters 🎀

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mageofspacemultiverse · 6 months

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FANUARY FAN-ART #1

Heyyyyy everybody! It's me, your boy. Uh....haha...that guy! B)

I know I haven't been the most present the past few weeks, but in my relative silence I just wanted to show my appreciation to the people who have helped to support me, talk with me, and inspire me on this website! And what better way to show these inclinations and feelings than to.....GIB U FREE ART! *fireworks going off*

So, as a challenge for myself and thanks to my followers, I've decided to introduce my first go at Fanuary: art for 16 people who really helped to make 2023 special for me as a way to pay it forward and give back, even if it's only a little bit. :3 I randomized from a big list to 16, which I'll be doing over the course of the month!

As a disclaimer, this was totally randomized, so if you didn't make it onto this list this doesn't mean that I don't appreciate you or I'm not a fan of you and whatnot! I plan to do this every year if I can, but I'm limiting how many I'm doing for the sake of avoiding burn-out, especially with working full-time and the amount of time it takes for me to draw as is. =w= you're still awesome, ok?

Anyway, there's my PSA! This is all for fun, but this is just a long way of saying thank you! If you want to see the pictures I'll be posting them under the tag #fanuary for reference.

#fanuary #mageofspacemultiverse #my art and stuff

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moonlightsolo · 2 years

Note

okok hear me out: bucky dating a coffee/flower/or knick-knack store owner.

the reader is the only sense of normalcy in bucky‘s life and they’re one of the only people who make him feel truly alive again.

this could be headcanons or an imagine of how theyd meet :) thank u!

perfect blend

wc: 1.5k

warnings: fluffy fluff, unedited, husband!bucky

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

note: DUDE !!! i am literally a barista so i had to do this. also i’ve never done a hc before so i hope this is written in the right way???

the first time you catch bucky’s eye is when he (hesitantly) walks into your coffee shop named ‘deja brew’

bucky has passed by the café countless times but has never had enough courage to step foot in there

he has always been hesitant but today just felt different

the aroma of fresh coffee filled his senses and then he saw you

you’re behind the bar steaming milk and shouting out orders as you hand them to waiting customers with a dazzling smile

wow he’s speechless

“excuse me sir? would you like to order?”

he didn’t even realize the employee at the front register was talking to him this whole time

bucky stuttered over his words as his eyes frantically attempted to find something on the menu

“uh-um…. medium iced americano, please. black.”

they clicked on the screen in front of them with a friendly smile. “and your name?”

“james- i mean bucky. bucky is fine.”

they type his name into the system, and then he quickly pays and goes to wait with the rest of the customers at the end of the bar.

he couldn’t help but watch you work. he has to say something to you. he has to.

his heartbeat thumps nervously in his ears as he watches how you expertly create the drinks.

“medium iced americano for… bucky!”

he takes a large step forward, your eyes finally meeting his with a smile. the drink is transferred from your hands to his, “thank you, uh…” he squints at your name tag, “y/n.” he shoot’s you a grin.

something about the man in front of you made you feel warm inside

whether it’s because you’ve never seen this man around (that’s so handsome it should be illegal) or maybe it’s just his dimpled smile

you hold eye contact for a few more seconds before continuing with your job

bucky goes to say something again but decides against it and leaves

obviously, he shows up the next day and the next day, and the next day… let’s just say he’s there every morning to get a medium iced americano.

sometimes you’re not the one who makes it for him and he swears he can taste the difference

a month goes by, and now the employees know his order by heart and they have it ready for him whenever he’s walks in at 9:30am sharp.

until one day, he doesn’t show up in the morning

the employees, and especially you, were quite concerned. bucky just didn’t come by.

and he didn’t the next day either.

soon, it turned into a week of not seeing bucky’s handsome face walking into the café

and sometimes when the bell rings at the front door, you pick your head up hoping it’s him

and when it's actually him, you didn't realize how happy and relieved you felt to see him

your face lights up when you see him and he couldn’t help but smile at your reaction

“missed me?”

he walks up to the bar counter and thankfully it’s not busy at all so you strike up a conversation with him while you make his drink

“where did you go? we all missed you.”

“i had some business to attend to and i caught up with an old friend.” he explains

*cough cough* falcon and the winter soldier

you hand over his drink and he goes to exchange it for cash but you refuse

“it’s on the house today, buck.“

he couldn’t help but blush like a school boy

“i appreciate it. thank you so much.”

you smile back at him, “of course. it was made with extra love today.” you couldn’t help but add which made him chuckle

he takes a sip of his drink and nods in agreement

“i was wondering… are you busy this weekend?”

your eyebrows raise in shock from his question

“sorry. you don’t have to answer that.” he laughs in disbelief at him and shakes his head

“actually... i’m not busy and you should check your cup.” you smirk as you lean forward to point at it

bucky twirls it around in his hand, then he spots something written in marker. it’s numbers!!

your number to be exact

his mouth drops open in dramatic shock “is that your number, miss y/n?”

he watches how you look down at your feet shyly

you make him smile

so bucky texts your number while standing there so you also had his

unfortunately you start to get too busy to carry a conversation with him so he leaves you be

after work, you couldn’t help but text him

and soon after that, you two were inseparable

every ding from your phone was always a text from him

your first date was that upcoming weekend

& he decided to take you to a restaurant that he loves

bucky is the pure definition of chivalry

he opens the car door for you (well any door for you)

he pulls your chair out and helps push you in closer to the table

whenever your water would run low he would fill it up with the pitcher that’s on the table

conversations came naturally between you both and soon he was holding your hand from across the table

which obviously made you lose your breath a little bit

you both shared each other’s entrees, feeling the other with forks

after dinner, he drives you home and holds your hand while driving

he plays old music in the background, ‘good old-fashioned lover boy’ by queen

he pulls up to the entrance of your apartment, putting the car into park

“thanks for tonight, doll. i had an amazing time.” he turns toward you and a smile forms on his beautiful lips

you couldn’t help but admire all his features

his stubble, the creases in his forehead, his perfect dark chocolate brown hair.

you smile back at him before reaching for the handle of the passenger door

bucky feels his breath hitch when you suddenly turn toward him to kiss him

he feels as if he’s on top of the world

his hands engulf your cheeks as he pulls you in even closer

your mouths slot together like a puzzle piece

it’s literally the epitome of a perfect kiss

fireworks, sparklers, bombs, rocks, firecrackers.

he hasn’t felt this happy since when rogers was still around

bucky could see himself falling in love with you

the rest of your days consisted of coffee with a splash of bucky during the day and 100% bucky at night

your limbs are tangled within the sheets

bucky always insists on old movies you’ve never seen before

also he is SUCH a gentleman, he doesn’t put his hands anywhere that’ll make you feel uncomfortable

he never initiates anything sexual either

he always lets you control whatever you want to do

usually your cuddling is just intimate with soft kisses and heavy breathing

bucky loves your waist and your hips and how soft you are

he can’t get enough of your lips though. you’re intoxicating

but when you guys make love for the first time- he’s so gentle and caring and continues to check up on you

he’s literally so old fashioned it’s so adorable

he ends up telling you about his past

which obviously you know about because “the winter soldier” was plastered all over the news for a while

but you reassure him that you don’t think of him like that

& you know that he’s not that person anymore.

“your past doesn’t define you” were your exact words.

he legit tackles you with a hug and a billion kisses

bucky goes and buys you a ring the next day

guess who’s his best man at the wedding? sam wilson.

becoming mrs. james buchanan barnes feels like a dream

bucky showers you with support for your business

don’t even get me started on you teaching him how to steam milk for a latte with that metal arm of his

he decides he’ll stick to the front register to take orders and mop the floor instead

he tells you “stand there and look pretty while you make drinks, darling. i’ll be the muscle” he kisses his flexed bicep playfully with a wink

he always winks at you and he likes to press kisses to your cheek during the workday

waking up to your sweet husband every morning is like living a dream

bucky couldn’t be more grateful for you

you saved him

546 notes · View notes

cafedanslanuit · 3 years

Text

♡ — pairing: eren x reader

♡ — tags/warnings: mentions of cheating and alcohol. side aruani and yumihisu. honestly just a feel-good fic, with humour and fluff <3

♡ — a/n: honestly, this is the most “romantic comedy” fic i’ve ever written and i love it <3 shout out to @ofoceansandtombstones that beta read this one mwah thank u

♡ — masterlist

There was an ill taste in your mouth that wouldn’t go away, no matter how many drinks you had. And you already had more than a few. From your spot on the table, you could see your friends dancing and having the time of their lives. You really wished you could join them. Nevertheless, you had wasted all your energy forcing a smile and clapping along during the ceremony. Once you had arrived at the hotel reception with the rest of the guests, you had slid a bill to a kind waitress and told her to keep the drinks coming.

Ymir and Historia were dancing in front of you. Stoic, sour-faced Ymir couldn’t help but smile as her sweet girlfriend twirled and giggled, her cheeks red and eyes just the tiniest bit unfocused. Next to them, Sasha, Jean and Connie were owning the dance floor, moving in sync to the happy music. A grin formed on your face as you saw Connie lifting Sasha up and her almost falling to the floor. Jean was holding his stomach as he laughed loudly.

On a nearby table, Mikasa looked over at them, a small smile on his lips. She was sitting next to her girlfriend, who was holding her hand as they watched their friends dance. You saw her girlfriend leaning over to her and whispering something in her ear, to which she chuckled. It was so strange -and so beautiful- to see Mikasa laugh that it took you aback. And apparently, also the girl she was with, because her lips slightly parted as she watched her in awe.

“How’s the party animal doing?”

You looked up and saw Eren staring down at you with a funny expression. He was wearing black dress pants and a white shirt. The first two buttons were undone, and he was carrying his suit jacket over his shoulder and a beer on his other hand.

“Someone’s gotta keep an eye out for everyone,” you replied with a shrug. Eren scoffed and took the seat next to you on the empty table, leaving his jacket on the nearest chair.

“I mean, I know attending your ex’s wedding isn’t bound to be a good time, but you’d think you would try to put on a happy face.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hey, at least I’m here.”

“After Mikasa tried her best to convince you during a whole week,” he said. You turned your head to Eren, eyes wide open. “What? Of course she told me.”

“That little… That’s it, I’m going to tell her girlfriend about that one time Mikasa got drunk with us,” you muttered angrily, standing up. Eren was quicker and pulled you back to your seat.

“You and Armin broke up a year ago. Why are you so upset he’s moving on?”

Before you could answer, the music stopped and the dance floor erupted in applause. Eren and you watched as Armin and Annie walked in between their guests, greeting everyone as they made their way to the bride and groom table, covered with a pearl cloth and decorated with the finest flowers. Every detail screamed elegance and you knew Armin had been the one to decide most of it. It had his taste written in every napkin and strategically placed flower.

Armin’s smile was almost too big for his face and if you had to guess, those small red marks on the external corner of his eyes meant he had been crying just a few minutes ago. You rolled your eyes. So sentimental. On the other hand, Annie’s smile was far less noticeable, but for someone who always repressed her public displays of emotions as much, that little smile must have felt heavenly to her new husband.

Husband. You took a big gulp of your drink.

“I’m telling you this because I care for you,” Eren said, redirecting your attention to him. “You’re looking like a petty ex.”

“Rather be petty than a cheater,” you shrugged, finishing your drink. You gestured to the waitress and she immediately walked to you, handing you a full glass. Thanking her, you wasted no time in taking a sip.

Eren’s eyebrows were deeply furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Armin never told you why we broke up, right?”

Eren scooted his chair closer to you and you bit back a laugh.

“He said you just weren’t good together,” he said, trying to remember his friend’s words. “And you said something similar when I asked you back then. Where does this ‘cheating’ thing come from?”

You let out a long sigh. “Maybe it wasn’t cheating. Not by definition, at least. But when your boyfriend starts dating someone else a week after you broke up a two-year-long relationship and he gets engaged four months later… you draw your own conclusions,” you explained, taking another sip of your drink and making a grimace. “Fuck, this one’s strong.”

After not getting a response from Eren for a long moment, you finally turned to look for his emerald eyes. You could almost see the numbers flying around his mind, trying to make sense of everything you had just told him. It was endearing.

“Wait, no-- wait,” Eren gestured at you with his hand. He stopped himself again and took a sip of his beer. “The first time Armin told me about Annie was in February. I remember it clearly. We were shopping for Mikasa’s birthday gift and then he went to pick something for Annie. And you guys broke up around Halloween, that’s the time I found you crying-- in Jean's backyard during our costume party.”

“We had a big fight at that party. We hadn’t broken up,” you clarified with a smirk. “He broke up with me after Mikasa’s birthday party. The same party he convinced me not to attend.”

Eren’s face dropped once all the pieces clicked together. He turned his body to look at the bride and groom table, where Armin and Annie were taking a sip of their champagne glasses and talking to each other enthusiastically, while the rest of their guests kept dancing.

“That son of a bitch,” he breathed out. You burst out laughing at his reaction. “No, I mean it! I really thought you had broken up during that Halloween party! You didn’t upload any more photos together, I don’t even remember even seeing you together--”

“I told you, we were fighting and… not in the mood for photos or public dates. Most of those months were spent at his apartment, fighting over really, really stupid things or just not texting each other for days,” you explained. “Honestly, when he broke up with me he made the decision I was too afraid to take. He was right, we weren’t good for each other anymore. But... fuck,” you chuckled icily. “I wish he would have broken up with me before getting with Annie.”

Eren listened in silence, his eyes still on his friend. You gave him time as you kept drinking, your gaze drifting to your friends again. You really wished you could have the energy to join them and forget Armin and Annie. It was true you didn’t love him anymore, yet seeing them together only made you remember how you had been fooled by someone you thought loved you the most.

You had had many dates ever since, but no one ever stuck. It was fun, getting someone’s attention for a couple of weeks, but then you couldn’t help but ghost them, putting up shitty excuses like wanting to focus on yourself and not having enough time to spare with them. You had lost so many amazing opportunities with both boys and girls that a couple of months ago you had decided to stop dating at all. It was lonely for sure, but at least you didn’t find yourself feeling guilty for not being able to open yourself up emotionally for someone else.

“Want to get back at him?”

You turned to Eren so fast you almost hurt your neck.

“What?”

“I have an idea. Just play along,” he explained, standing up.

“Eren, hey, what are you--”

“Everybody! If you could give me a minute please!”

You watched horrified as your friends started turning to you and Eren, confused at the commotion. Eren kept waving his hand, gathering more and more people’s attention, Armin and Annie included. He even gestured to the DJ to lower the music and she complied. In a few seconds, all the guests of the party were looking at you, who was still sitting down with a confused expression, a drink in your hand. Once he deemed enough people were looking at him, you saw him fumbling with his hands nervously.

“Eren,” you called for him again in a whisper, but all he did was take the drink you had in your hands and put it on the table.

“Sorry for interrupting, I know a lot of you were having a lot of fun dancing. But all I’m asking is one minute of your time. I hope that’s okay with you guys,” he grinned back to the bride and groom table, where they were as confused as all the guests around. “I have something really important to say.”

“Eren, no, you can’t tell them about--”

“No, no, give me a moment,” he hushed you again. The DJ walked to both of you and handed an inalambric microphone to Eren.

You didn’t like how devilish his smile turned.

“Great, thanks, this is much better,” he told the DJ, who just kindly smiled at him. “Anyway, I don’t want to take much of the bride and groom’s time, so I’ll try to be concise. The thing is…” he said, turning to face you. “I love you.”

Your mouth flew open as you heard multiple gasps coming from the guests. Yet, you couldn’t bother with looking anywhere but Eren’s eyes. What was he doing? Since when did he have feelings for you? If he wanted to say something, he could have easily said something a few minutes ago, when--

Just play along.

Oh.

Your questioning glare turned into a big smile and you noticed Eren softly nodding at you.

“You already know how much I love you. Honestly, I never get tired of telling you so. And hiding our love from our friends has probably been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Sorry about that, Mikasa,” he said, gesturing to the woman.

You could imagine your friend’s dumbfounded face, but you knew better than to turn and check for yourself. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hold in your laughter.

“So I’m here in front of all our friends and some other guests I don’t know to ask a simple question.”

In a swift movement, Eren got down on one knee. Your hand flew to cover your mouth, trying your best to hide any trace of laughing on your face. The flash of the cameras startled you for a moment, but that only meant Eren’s plan was working. The excited murmurs and squeals only fueled Eren, as he pulled up a ring and showed it to you. You immediately recognized it as one of the rings he had been wearing a few moments ago.

“Would you marry me?”

A huge, honest grin made its way to your face and you nodded quickly. You grabbed the microphone Eren was holding and spoke right into it.

“Yes, I’ll marry you!”

You hadn’t listened to a crowd erupting in applause and cheers as loud as the guests at Armin’s wedding when Eren slid his ring on your finger. Once again, the flash of the cameras were right into the both of you as you leaped into his arms. He stood up while holding your body close to him, even giving you a small spin and you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

When he finally put you down, the music resumed and all your friends began running to the both of you.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you whispered to Eren, holding his face between your hands. He laughed.

“Kinda ruined the reception, huh?”

“When the fuck did this happen?” Jean inquired as soon as he reached you.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell us?” Sasha whined, with a small pout. “But congratulations!” she quickly followed, hugging you tightly. As you hugged her back, you felt someone taking the hand that was now wearing Eren’s ring.

“This is one of your rings,” she noted, shooting Eren a dirty glance. He lifted his hands in surrender.

“Hey, I didn’t plan this! But I will get her a prettier one soon,” he said, winking at you. You laughed and shook your head.

“Nah, I like this one,” you replied. You shared a knowing grin and soon it was Connie’s turn to hug you.

While you were hugging your friend back, you saw in the corner of your eye Armin getting up from the table and starting to walk to both of you. Your smile immediately vanished from your face and once Eren caught it and followed your eye trail, he understood the reason why. You heard him mutter a curse before he pulled you from Connie’s embrace.

“Well, we’d love to stay, but my fiancée and I want some time alone.”

“C’mon, you haven’t told us yet how you got together!” Sasha complained.

“Next time, we promise,” you hurriedly assured her.

Eren picked his suit jacket from the table and before Armin could reach your group, you quickly walked away, exiting the hotel. Eren whistled to a taxi and you jumped inside, telling the man behind the wheel to drive. Loud laughter filled the vehicle as soon as it began moving.

“How-- how did you even have this idea?” you asked him, holding your stomach as you laughed. “Dude, Armin looked so upset, we totally stole his thunder.”

“That was the plan,” Eren shrugged, a winning smirk on his lips. “Knowing the gang, everybody’s going to be talking about us and the engagement for the rest of the party.”

“Remind me to never have you as an enemy,” you chuckled, leaning back on the car seat. Letting out a long sigh, you took off Eren’s ring and handed it to him.

He shook his head. “Nah, keep it. As a souvenir of today,” he winked.

“Thank you,” you smiled. You put the ring on your thumb this time, since it was too big for your ring finger anyway. “You didn’t have to do this at all, and yet--”

“It’s okay,” he assured you.

“No, really. It’s just-- I’ve been having a tough time since the breakup,” you admitted. “To have you doing this for me means a lot. Makes me feel someone really cares for me. I never said anything to anyone back then because Annie is also a part of the group and I thought…”

Eren leaned his head towards you.

“You thought…?”

“I thought you would pick her too. It’s stupid, I know,” you shrugged, turning your head to Eren. “But Armin had just broken up with me and a week later he was already in public with Annie. Back then, I thought everyone knew we had just broken up and if no one had said anything was because they didn’t care. So I just… stopped hanging out with all of you as much as I did before.”

“Yeah, I noticed that,” he muttered.

“You did?”

Eren nodded. “That’s why I asked Mikasa to pressure you into coming to the wedding. I hadn’t seen you in a while.”

“You could have just asked me to hang out, you know,” you teased him. Eren chuckled, pushing some of his loose hairs behind his ear.

“I think we know by now I don’t take the conventional route.”

“Yeah, all of the guests know that too,” you quipped, making both of you laugh.

This time, when the laughter came to an end, you realized how close your faces were. Your noses were almost brushing as you both were lying your heads on the back of the car seat. You looked into Eren’s emerald eyes and noticed he wasn’t looking away from yours either. Was it the alcohol that made his cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink? If it was, then you could say the warmth crawling up your face was its fault too. It had to be the alcohol, or else, you would have to also ponder about the reason your heart was beating out of your chest at having your friend so close to you. He was handsome, he had always been and you knew this. But why were you losing all your composure just now?

A brief look at Eren's lips gave your thoughts away and, in less than two seconds, he was pressing his lips against yours.

For a spur-of-the-moment kiss, as you thought this one was, it was rather soft. Eren kissed you as if he thought you were the most expensive and fragile thing he had ever seen. But of course, this was just a product of the adrenaline and the fact that -as far as you knew- he hadn’t been dating anyone as well, right?

Your small theory crashed and burnt when you felt his hand softly cradling the side of your face. No. This wasn’t an adrenaline kiss, neither one that you gave without a thought. Maybe it had been unprompted and maybe you hadn’t seen it coming, but it sure as hell seemed he did. Eren’s lips gilded against your with ease, revealing a soft tenderness you didn’t know he possessed. You kissed him back, matching his rhythm as you softly pressed your hand against his chest.

Eren pulled away from you softly, and if his longing eyes were any indicator, a bit reluctantly.

“Hi,” he breathed out, making you grin widely.

“Hi,” you replied. You gently caressed his cheek with the knuckles of the hand that was previously resting on his chest. Eren took it and kissed your palm, making your heart flutter.

“Sorry to interrupt kids, but where are we heading?”

The voice of the taxi driver startled you, making you pull away from Eren. He chuckled at your reaction and then looked back at the man.

“Take us to that pizza place near the central park. Gotta have a celebratory dinner with my fiancée,” he said cheekily, taking your hand into his. You squeezed his hand back, his ring digging a little on your skin.

“So young and engaged already? Congrats!” the driver said, turning left and heading towards the direction Eren had given him.

“Thank you!” you smiled brightly at Eren while he took your joint hands to his mouth and placed a kiss on your knuckles.

A part of you knew you weren’t taking that ring off anytime soon.

#snk x reader #aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren jaeger #eren yaeger #eren fluff

512 notes · View notes

stxrvel · 3 years

Text

bittersweet feelings (1)

summary: you have to deal with the harsh truth after Bucky arrives from one of his missions.

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

warnings: nothing i think, just you know English is not my native language so sorry for any mistakes!

words: +2.5k

note: hi! I've been feeling physically unwell since I last posted and have been in bed, but today I was finally able to get a moment of calm and lucidity, so, enjoy and hope you like it!

also, i've been working on a series that I want to publish soon, but I don't know why I always find it difficult to do all that planning. anyway, I really hope I can bring it to you soon! thank u for all the support!

part 2

part 3

Admiring Bucky Barnes from afar has become too much of a challenge in recent days. Before, you were wrapped up in papers, essays, final exams and projects due, locking yourself in your room at a time or living in your university library, simply too busy to wander your eyes over the sprawling figure of Bucky strolling around the Complex. Ironically, he always spent more time there when you weren't there.

But now, completely free of academic responsibilities and banned from going on missions at Fury's whim, you had a lot more time to wander the halls of the Complex, especially in the gym where the man with the metal arm used to spend most of his time. Many times (if not all the time) you felt like a lousy attempt of a stalker, and you was almost 100% sure that he realised what you were doing but preferred not to say anything so as not to embarrass you. And that was much more embarrassing.

But did that stop you? Absolutely not.

He'd cut his hair a few days ago, and although you loved the way his hair looked on his shoulders and the way it blew in the wind every time he walked, as if he were a model on a bloody photo shoot, you shamelessly admitted that you had quickly grown to love his new style. Because, honestly, did something look bad on Bucky?

Your hands moved indiscreetly across the table, crumpling the paper between your fingers that you had previously been reading, as you watched the aforementioned man's shoulders shake after hearing Sam Wilson say something about Scott's card game. You moved your eyes scanning his entire face, trying to memorise the expression on his face as he smiled so openly, as he almost never did in public.

“Am I interrupting your crazy stalker moment?”

Tony's voice startled you, and you turned your head so sharply to look at something other than Bucky that a slight twinge of pain made its way from the back of your neck to your right shoulder. You grimaced and watched the millionaire sit down next to you on one of the black chairs that were spread out in the first floor cafeteria. Ahead of you, a large glass door separated you from one of the side exits of the Complex, where Bucky and Sam had stopped to talk and, surely at first, discuss the mission Bucky had just returned from.

“I'm not a crazy stalker,” you told him dismissively, but your nerves were eating you up inside. Even though you knew you weren't entirely discreet, you still weren't ready for someone to tell you that you were too obvious for him not to know anymore.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say,” Tony commented sarcastically and you felt a quick pang of fear inside your chest, “I was just coming to tell you that Fury made the decision to send you to Milan with Steve the other week.”

Your gaze finally shifted away from Bucky's figure, closer and closer to where you stood, to Tony and you frowned at him in extreme confusion.

“What? So soon?”

“Isn't that what you wanted? To go back to the camp?”

“Well, yes, but I thought his tantrum was going to last much longer.”

Tony let out a laugh and proceeded to open the packet of peanuts in his pocket, “If he hears you say that, consider yourself fired, kiddo.”

“Then it's a relief that no one heard me say it,” you smiled innocently at Tony, who only gave you a tight-mouthed smile in return.

“It's just a recon mission. Steve thinks there's an empty HYDRA base you can investigate, and you're pretty nimble with that non-digitized document review stuff.”

“You mean I'm good at reading physical documents?”

“You know what I mean, eagle eyes. There's nothing you're missing.”

“Ow,” you croon with a smile, “Thanks for the compliment, Stark.”

“You're welcome. Now, don't go freaking out. Barnes is walking this way.”

He then stood up and planted himself in front of you, as your heart did a wild flip and you felt him pause for a second, before resuming his march at an unnatural pace. You didn't even know if it was possible for a heart to beat that fast. You felt sweat beading on your hands and started to breathe through your mouth as you felt the nervousness take over your whole body.

“What?” you exclaimed, staring at him, sitting uncomfortably in the chair across the table they had shared.

“I told you not to freak out, you're only going to make it worse.”

You narrowed your eyes at him with a frown. Next, you took about three deep breaths to try and calm your frantic heartbeat, before Sam's figure - and consequently Bucky's - appeared in your field of view to the side of Stark's body. The man gave you a look with an arched eyebrow, as if to ask you to behave yourself, which was an exaggeration.

That was an exaggeration. You spent a lot of time with Bucky! Even when you two were alone you didn't feel as nervous as you did at moments like this.

When your gazes met, you could barely return the smile he gave you before you turned your eyes to Sam, who had just spoken but you hadn't gotten to hear everything he'd said because your head was in the clouds.

“...and that you're going back to the camp with Steve. How long since you've been out? Almost four months? You must be anxious.”

You just nodded, looking at him through tight lips.

Tony rubbed his eyes in an exasperated gesture.

“I could ask Fury to let me tag along,” Bucky's voice reached your ears like a forbidden delicacy. It had been several days since you'd last heard it and it was like a gift from the gods, “Lest he bore you with his awkward silences.”

“We don't have awkward silences,” you grumbled quickly, not knowing exactly why you were getting defensive. Tony raised his eyebrows at you and you shrugged in place, “I mean, we talk about a lot of things.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky's jocular tone didn't do much for your nerves and sanity, “Name a topic you've been talking about for more than three minutes.”

You pursed your lips and stared at his perfect face, uninjured by the mission, as you conjured up memories of your conversations with Steve. Your almost non-existent conversations.

Your cheeks flushed as you realised he was right, but you weren't going to let him win you over this time.

“One time, we talked all night about a movie.”

“If you're going to say you talked about Lord of the Rings, that doesn't count,” Sam spoke with a half smile on his face.

“Why not?” you grumbled quickly, watching the grimace in his face.

“He talks to everyone about those movies. It doesn't even feel like a conversation anymore, it's like a monologue.”

“Careful, Sam,” Tony spoke up after several seconds, “She likes those movies too.”

“Hey! They're good movies.”

“Good for a nap,” Sam let out a laugh.

You watched Bucky pursed his lips and looked down at the floor, holding back a chuckle.

“They're entertaining,” you muttered with a frown.

Sam pointed at you, his eyebrows arched and his corners raised in a playful grin.

“Well, that's it,” Bucky interrupted whatever Sam was going to say, “You know what they say, to each his own.”

“I'm with Barnes on this one,” Tony spoke up, resting one of his hands on Barnes' shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. Bucky watched his hand and then the millionaire's face with an arched eyebrow, but Tony quickly turned his attention away from Bucky to Sam, “Speaking of Steve, he asked me to tell you to look for him in the main room. He said something about a pending conversation.”

Tony put his arm around Sam's shoulders, leaning part of his body to lead him to walk with him out of the cafeteria. They promptly struck up a conversation on their way out of the cafeteria, and you felt your hands shake once you realized you were alone with Bucky after a couple of weeks of not being able to talk properly with him.

You turned your head away from where the two people who had accompanied you a few seconds before were leaving, hearing the creak of a chair being dragged in front of you. You watched Bucky move his body into a sitting position, settling his forearms on the table and his eyes fixed on yours. Settling into the chair, you gave him a tight-lipped, tense smile. Act normal.

“So the boss finally gave in,” the black-haired man said, his lips curling as he interlocked his hands.

You nodded your head slightly, “It was quicker than I thought. I thought he'd never let me back in the field.”

“And can you blame him? You sure scared the soul out of his body,” Bucky arched his eyebrows, and the mere memory of what happened gave you a feeling of irritability.

You grimaced, “Oh, it wasn't a big deal.”

“It wasn't a big deal? Honey, you threw yourself at those people all by yourself.”

You stared at him for a few seconds, like you did every time he called you names when you were alone. He never did it in public, and it was something you didn't try to think about very often.

“So what? This was all unnecessarily dramatic,” you tried to say in the most neutral tone of voice possible as you crossed your legs under the table.

“There were twenty men,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“Do you think me incapable, Barnes?” you arched an eyebrow, speaking with courage.

“No, of course not,” he quickly replied, his gaze softening, “But you disobeyed a direct order from Natasha and put your life at risk. You know how Fury is with you, he cares too much about you.”

You rolled your eyes, letting your back fall against the back of the chair, “But I'm not made of porcelain. I'm as good as Nat, she trained me herself!”

“But Fury didn't see her grow up.”

Well, he had a point and rightly so. You had grown up with the boss, who had practically adopted you, which was one of the reasons he used to be overprotective or refuse you to do some things because he thought it was for the best. And that fact had also helped you form fraternal bonds with all the Avengers until you were old enough and capable enough to be a part of them.

Well, you saw everyone as a nice family except Bucky. And that was a big problem.

You watched him through your eyelashes with an almost imperceptible pout.

Bucky gave you a beautiful smile, the kind that could light up an entire city, “Honey, I understand that it bothers you, but the position you put Fury in at the time, or everyone for that matter, made it hard for him not to make the decision he did. Maybe he overstepped, I'm not denying that, but he was scared.”

“There were other ways...” you started to renege again.

“And would you really have listened to him?” he inquired without wiping away his smile. It amazed you how lenient he could be with you, when with the rest of the world he was a hermit and sulky most of the time.

You sighed. Yep, you could be pretty stubborn when you put your mind to it.

“Well, the important thing is that he finally realised his mistake,” you blurted out with an amused grin. Bucky frowned and pointed the index finger of his metal arm at you.

“I think you missed the point of our little debate.”

“No, no... I understand, Bucky, I do. But Fury have to trust my skills a little more. I could against all of them! It was a spectacle.”

“But you're not always going to come out on top, sweetheart. At some point someone can catch you off guard, and that's what Fury's afraid of.”

“Well, it'll have to happen at some point. Unfortunately, I'm not invincible,” you agreed and admitted what he had said, because he was certainly right, with a tight-lipped smile.

You thought Bucky would be amused, or at least agree with you, but he merely bowed his head, frowned and tensed noticeably. You noticed that his expression suddenly hardened, and it frightened you that you had said something that would have angered him.

“What?” you asked fearfully.

He looked up from the table to look at you again, waking up. He gave you a smile, but a stiffer, harder and committed one. Your chest tightened, “It's not.... It's nothing. Just try to be careful next time, more cautious if necessary. You know, strategist.”

“Yeah, I know, I don't risk it if I don't think it's necessary.”

“That's my girl.”

You froze for a few seconds, just watching him, before your face heated up into an all too violent blush. He'd never said anything like that to you before... but you certainly didn't balk at the possibility that he might again.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you smiled shyly at him.

The sound of the cafeteria doors swinging open distracted the man in front of you, but you kept staring at his profile, gawking and surely with heart-shaped eyes. How was it possible that you liked him so much? Even though it had been a while since you last spoke, it seemed that your feelings for him had only grown three times his size.

Then, you heard it:

“Bucky!”

A woman's voice in the distance.

Confused, you turned your gaze in the direction of the voice, which came from the same place Bucky had been watching for several seconds. She was the one who had opened the doors so frantically, then. You frowned at her from a distance, unable to recognise her figure or features; it wasn't usually easy for you to forget the faces of people you knew, and you certainly didn't know this woman.

However, when you turned to ask Bucky, the half-smile on his face gave you the answer without words. Your chest tightened and you clenched your hands so as not to show the abrupt change of mood you had just gone through when he turned his face and fixed his eyes on yours. All without erasing that smile.

That smile he had on his face for her.

“I guess you'll have to go with Steve to schedule everything about the mission.”

You nodded, uncomfortably, not looking away.

“Fine. In the meantime, I'll go on my date,” he crooned, and the burning you felt intensified so much that it felt like you couldn't pass saliva without straining. But you smiled at him, your lips curving awkwardly and your face reluctant to show a feeling you didn't experience.

“Wow, I thought I'd never hear you say something like that.”

“Life is full of surprises, honey,” he said smiling as he stood up, “Do you want me to walk you to the living room?”

“No, don't worry. I'll be there in a minute,” you replied quickly. It was the first time since you had met him that you wanted him to leave you alone for once.

“All right. Good luck with the old man.”

“Thanks. Good luck with your- your- your date.”

You hated the way your voice betrayed you, but Bucky didn't seem to pay too much attention to it as he waved goodbye to you and started walking in the direction of the woman waiting for him outside the cafeteria doors. You felt your chest tighten as you sighed deeply and a couple of tears welled up in your eyes.

Damn it, at what point had all that happened?

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #winter solider #james buchanan barnes #seb stan #sebastian stan #marvel #mcu #avengers #the avengers #tony stark #sam wilson

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