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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 7 months

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Request: Bucky had a bad day at work and his girlfriend (the reader) tries to comfort him and he yells at her without realizing it and makes her cry and she gives him the silent treatment and he buys her flowers to show her how sorry he is and tells her how much he loves her

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: harsh words, angsty feelings, mentions of death

It wasn't easy being the person sitting at home waiting. The days were long and the nights even longer. Tonight was no different. He didn't get home until 1am but it was your day off and you'd had a lie in, so you were happy to sit on the sofa and wait up. Even though Bucky had specifically told you not to wait for him when he had texted that they had gotten back safely to base camp.

You looked at your watch for the umpteenth time. Debriefs normally never took this long and you hoped that there wasn't a problem. A myriad of possibilities ran through your mind about the reasons for his delay. What if he was hungry? What if he was thirsty? He would definitely be tired. You didn't want to think about the possibility of injury.

Instead of letting the cacophony of thoughts overwhelm you, you decided to get up and put together a few food and drink options in case Bucky did want something before bed.

You'd just laid out his favorite muffin on a plate when you heard the key in the front door and your disheveled boyfriend trudged into the apartment. He froze suddenly at the sight of you in his kitchen.

“What’re you doing here?” His voice was strained, almost like he wasn't expecting to see you.

“I know you said not to wait for you, but I thought you might be hungry… or thirsty,” you shrugged. “I made-”

Your voice tapered off as you saw the scowl on his face. His jaw moved from side to side before he chose to walk away silently. Bucky stalked into the bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

You were left standing in a state of bewilderment, drowning in a state of inner turmoil. Had you said or done something to upset him? In an attempt to calm your mind, you tried to tidy up the table a little, only succeeding in moving a few things around before the bathroom door opened behind you.

“Why are you still here? You weren't supposed to be here.” He sounded angry and oh so tired.

“Do you want me to go?” you asked meekly, shrinking under his glare.

“It's too late.”

“It's fine.” You knew you weren't wanted, so you grabbed your bag and made your way to the door.

You'd only managed to open the door a fraction of an inch when you felt Bucky brush against your back. He reached over you and slammed the door closed. Surprisingly, his actions didn't frighten you, despite the force he had just used. You were, however, concerned by his unexplained outburst. Bucky had never raised his voice at you, he was always so sweet and gentle. There was almost a reluctance when it came to sex, like he was afraid that his strength would hurt you.

“What are you going to do? Walk? At this time of night?” His voice was laced with poison and it cut you like a knife.

Shit you hadn't brought your car. You definitely didn't want to walk outside alone at 2.30am.

“Well, you've made it pretty clear you don't want me here.”

“I-”

You weren’t sure if it was the look on your face, or your scathing tone but he seemed to be at a loss for words. You slipped past your boyfriend and stalked over to his couch.

“What’re you doing?” he grumbled, watching you fluffing the cushions to use as a makeshift pillow.

“I'll just stay here, you go to bed.”

“Just come and sleep in the bed,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I'm fine here.”

“I'm not going unless you come too.”

You bit your lower lip, there was nothing you wanted more at this point than to rage back at him, to point out how awful his behavior was, to let him know how awful he had made you feel, but there was something in his expression that stopped you. Your outrage was replaced by an overwhelming sadness.

“Fine,” you huff before getting up and sliding past Bucky into the bedroom.

Climbing onto your usual side of the bed, you curled up at the very edge, facing away from Bucky. Even though your rational mind told you that there must be a reason for his demeanor, your amygdala couldn't help but exert its influence and soon silent tears were coating your cheeks as well as soaking the pillow.

What you didn't notice was Bucky's small sighs as you tried to stifle the sound of your sniffles. He rolled over on his back and tried to focus on something other than the pain he had caused you. For some reason this made him angrier than he was before, but not at you. He had never been angry at you, just surprised. Your presence had been unexpected. He had wanted to drown his sorrows in a scalding hot shower and not have to speak to anyone. It would have been nice to lie in bed, wrapped in your loving arms…

Bucky groaned quietly. He had taken out every one of his frustrations out on you, the one person he loved most in the world. You had always accepted every part of him, and in his heart of hearts, he knew you would accept the secret he had come home with. Bucky had no one to blame but himself for this mistake.

He turned his face to you, calling your name softly, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to respond. Instead you chose to close your eyes and shut out the world and the pain. Eventually your breathing evened out, became steadier and deeper than it had been before and Bucky realized that you’d finally dozed off. His mind wouldn’t give him the same relief though, his thoughts spiraled, convincing him of every catastrophic outcome. There were very few things that James Buchanan Barnes was certain of, and you were one of them.

Sunrise came all too soon for you and not soon enough for Bucky. Maybe it was the angle at which you’d fallen asleep but you woke shortly after the morning larks started their song. The night’s events came back to you like a knife through the heart and you knew you had to leave. The thought of having another encounter like the one you’d had with Bucky the night before was agonizing and you had no desire to face him again, not yet. As softly as you could, you peeled back the duvet and pushed yourself off the mattress before stumbling into the bathroom. You hadn’t undressed the night before which meant that you had the option for an easy escape. Before leaving, you glanced at the mirror, grimacing at the dark circles under your still red eyes.

You had made it as far as the door before he had caught up with you again.

“Please.” His tone was pleading, he might as well have been on his hands and knees begging you to stay.

“I have to go, Bucky.”

You pulled your hand from his and made your escape. He didn’t follow you but he tried calling you repeatedly. He only stopped when you cut the last attempt short by sending him to voicemail without answering. As soon as you got home, you shook the snow off your shoulders, slipped out of your clothes and crawled under your covers and fell asleep with tears in your eyes.

As you slept, Bucky stewed in the juices of his guilt, steeping himself in a melancholy of his own making. He needed to act, he needed to apologize, he had to make things right. Grabbing his wallet, Bucky put on his coat and drove to the nearest florist to purchase a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

He cradled the beautiful blooming buds as he approached your building. Bucky had spotted your car down the street, covered in snow, there was no mistaking the outline of Stitch with the words “Back off bumper rhumper. My brakes are good. How’s your insurance?”

It was lucky you didn’t have to go to work because you slept for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon. Oblivious to the ringing doorbell and phone, you slept peacefully.

Instead of leaving, Bucky sat down on the steps outside your apartment, clutching the floral arrangement like a lifeline. He was a patient man, he wasn't afraid of the cold, they had named him Winter after all.

Finally you woke to a deep rumbling in your stomach. You hadn't eaten in almost twenty hours and your body demanded to be fed. After a long stretch and a quick raid of your closet for warm clothes, you opened your fridge to find a cold LED light glaring back at you. It was empty. You needed groceries. Instead of stocking your own fridge, you'd spent all your time filling Bucky's.

As tempting as the take out menus were, you needed some basics for the next few days before you had to go back to work. Without bothering to change, you pulled on a pair of thick socks, a hoodie and your duffle coat and headed out with the intention of visiting the local grocery store.

You were just about to let go of the main door to your apartment building, when you caught sight of a pair of familiar boots. Following your line of vision, you looked up from the boots to their owner and you are surprised to find Bucky asleep on your doorstep covered in snow with a now frozen bunch of flowers which appear to have crystallized to his jacket.

In a moment of panic, you dropped to your knees in the snow, shaking the sleeping supersoldier and calling his name.

“Bucky!”

He opened his eyes, unfocused in their disorientation. Your hands cupped his freezing cheeks to get his attention. Were his lips blue?

“Bucky, look at me.”

He tried to whisper your name, but his voice was barely audible and all that came out of mouth was a tiny puff of steam.

“Are you alright? Can you get up?”

You hissed at the frigid feeling on your palms as your hands moved behind his arms in an attempt to pull him closer to you.

“Yeah, one sec.” Bucky pushed himself off the floor, the stiffness of his body making his movements slow and pained. It was almost like watching the reanimation of a corpse after rigor mortis had set in.

Before he had the chance to say and more, you'd grabbed his wrist and dragged him up to your apartment. It was your turn to be angry. At him, at yourself for not having seen his attempts to get in touch. If you were honest with yourself, you'd have ignored his calls and it infuriated you that your behavior had caused him to act this way. But mostly you were mad at him.

And because of this, you refused to say another word as you wrenched open your front door and guided your popsicle boyfriend onto the couch. Ignoring his stuttered apologies, you grabbed a couple of blankets, removed his outer layer of clothing and wrapped him tightly into a cocoon of blended polyester, cotton and wool.

Bucky's gaze was hawklike as you silently fussed over him, ensuring his warmth with blankets. You turned up the heat on the thermostat to furnace conditions and put the kettle on. You popped a teabag of chamomile and honey tea into each of two mugs and stood next to the kettle, as though watching it would make it boil faster. It was only because you didn't want Bucky to see the tremble of your lip as you fought against the urge to break down over the stress of the last twenty four hours.

You pulled your arms around your torso, shivering slightly. It really was cold outside and you were hoping that Bucky wouldn't suffer from having fallen asleep outside. Without warning, you felt a warmth envelope you. Bucky had crept up behind you and in his socks, you hadn’t noticed his approach on the hardwood floor. He put his arms around you and draped himself around you along with the blanket, making you sigh and melt into him.

Bucky took it as a good sign that you didn’t pull away or punch him in the face. He buried his face in your hair, breathing in your scent, trying to memorize every detail of your essence. You considered staying there, wrapped silently in his arms but the whistle of the kettle brought you back to your senses. Wordlessly, you unwrapped yourself from his embrace and poured water into the empty mugs. You picked up the two mugs and motioned him over to the sofa.

The two of you sat together quietly sipping the tea. You glanced over at your boyfriend, your heart softening as you saw how sad and small he looked. Normally Bucky had a presence, he had broad shoulders and was tall, his vibranium arm occasionally glinting with a hint of menace. But as he sat wrapped up and clutching the mug of tea close to his face as he inhaled the steam with his red tinged nose, you wanted nothing more than to curl under the blanket with him and kiss his face.

You watched as he closed his eyes and a small crinkle appeared at the bridge of his nose. You frowned slightly, confused by the way his nostrils twitched for a second before his head pitched forward with a surprising sneeze. His hands shook and hot tea sloshed over his hands. You grabbed the mug from his hands and deposited it on the coffee table before turning back to your boyfriend with a look of worry.

“Bless you?” you whispered, your voice laced with concern. “Are you okay?”

You brushed his face with the back of your hand. Did he have a fever? There was a heat that was emanating from him. The supersoldier serum should protect him from illnesses. Shouldn’t it?

“Yeah, the steam went up my nose. It tickled.”

“Sure?”

Bucky nodded. Your care for him gave him the courage to take your hand.

“Look, I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday. It was totally unacceptable.”

“Buck-”

“I know you’re upset… and I understand if you aren’t ready for forgive me-”

“Buck-”

“And that’s okay, if you don’t want to talk to me-”

“Bucky!”

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why were you so angry? Did things go badly with your mission?”

Bucky looked down at his hands, suddenly afraid of what you would say about his explanation. It was obvious by the way he traced the golden veins of his vibranium arm. You took his hand in an attempt to reassure him of your support.

“I only had one thing to do and I couldn't even get that right.”

Bucky couldn't quite look you in the eyes as he spoke.

“How many people have to die because of me?” he asked dismally. “Steve wouldn't have let her die.”

“Bucky, you didn't let anyone die. She was murdered. That's not on you.” You had no idea what you were talking about, but you knew he would never intentionally hurt anyone.

“You should have seen how everyone looked at me. I… didn't want you to look at me like that.”

“Oh Bucky.” You moved closer to him and put your hand on his back, rubbing comforting circles on it. “I don't think that you screwed up. You're not a failure. You did your best. Sometimes bad things happen and they are completely out of our control.”

“I'm so sorry for the way I spoke to you.”

“Yeah, I'm not going to lie, that wasn't fun for me.” You sighed. “Look, can we agree that neither of us acted in an ideal way.”

“I can't see what you did wrong.”

“I don't want to do this again, Bucky.”

“Neither do I.”

“I promise, in future, I'll respect your request to be left alone.”

“And I'll do my best to tell you how I feel.”

Both you and Bucky sat gazing into each other's faces until your stomach rumbled loudly and interrupted the tender moment.

“Hungry?” Bucky smirked at you.

“What gave it away?” You rolled your eyes.

“Shall we order something?”

“Yeah, let me grab my tablet.”

You got up to fetch your device but you were stopped by a strong pair of hands around your waist. Bucky pulled you back into his lap and wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“I love you,” he whispered in your ear.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine

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stupidlittlespirit · 5 months

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Good Boy

Rating: NSFW (very!), mdni Type: Longform Tags: webcam show, voyeurism, sex work, masturbation, female body described, one use of gendered language ('ma'am'), virgin!Reigen, pathetic!Reigen, Word count: 5797 My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3! Reigen finds your webcam show and proceeds to be a pervert.

“Should I send my boss a video of what I'm busy doing?” You ask, rocking your ass back and forth. The skirt lifts when you bend down and Reigen catches a peek of your underwear when you lean over a little more. You turn until your back is to the camera and then begin to lift the skirt higher and higher as you dance, tantalisingly slow.

Reigen squeezes the base of his cock and smirks to himself. “I wouldn't bother.”

He finds the video by complete accident.

Reigen is scrolling aimlessly through the feed of his favourite porn sites, rows upon rows of explicit content at his fingertips as he trolls through videos he's seen so many times before he has them practically memorised. They don't do anything for him anymore.

He's bored of the repetitive scenarios and over the top acting, and if he has to watch another shitty, stilted skit again he's going to stop jerking off for the rest of his life in protest.

Well. Maybe he won't go that far, but he's certainly fed up with the lack of excitement.

It's closing in on one 1AM on a Friday night and Reigen is spending yet another weekend all on his own. Serizawa is busy with school friends, Dimple isn't in the mood to find a host body for a night out and Mob is likely fast asleep. If he's honest, even Reigen knows how pathetic he'd look if he asked a kid to spend his afterschool time with him.

The only other person he has to ask out is you. You're the newest member of the team and even though you've been out with all of them a fair few times, tonight you'd dismissed his suggestions with the simple excuse of being busy.

You hadn't specified what you were going to be busy with, but Reigen supposes it isn't really any of his business. He can't deny his disappointment, though.

He'd hoped you might jump at the chance for one on one time with him, and whilst he stares at the screen of his computer, desperate for something to make him feel less lonesome, the sting of your rejection is only softened slightly by the alcohol he's had for dinner.

At his feet, there are several cans of chuhai. Every time he drinks alone in his apartment, he finds that he only has two options when no one wants to be around him. One: get so wasted that he passes out before he can think too much about his misery or two: jerk off to prevent himself from thinking about his misery.

Right now, Reigen is reasonably drunk, he's totally lonely, and most of all, he's horny. He supposes he may as well achieve both outcomes at once tonight. He isn't looking for anything in particular right now, just something that might take the edge off and help him sleep a little better. His expectations of finding anything particularly exciting are very low.

However, perched at his PC, shirtless and in his sweatpants, Reigen is starting to think it might be a waste of time. Nothing seems of interest to him. It's either too weird or too boring, and he wonders if he might be better off just calling it a night.

In a last ditch attempt, he switches from his typical porn site to a newer one. One he hasn't tried before. Usually he'd watch something pre-recorded, but he faintly remembers reading something on a forum somewhere about the newest trend of cam girls.

The post had detailed how viewers could make requests for a performer to do whatever they wanted, all live and in real-time, and he has to admit it sounds a lot more interesting than viewing the same video over and over.

He clicks the first link that pops up from his search.

The website is simplistic and once he's clicked through his verifications, Reigen begins to scan the rows of people on offer. There are women and men and everything in between, but every time he selects one, the performer seems bored and uninspired. Sometimes, they're not even there.

Reigen tries the second page. He's halfway down it, not really paying full attention anymore, when abruptly one of the little preview windows looks vaguely familiar.

Squinting, he leans in to get a better view to try and place where he's seen that room before. The decor in the thumbnail looks like a place he's seen before, but he can't quite put his finger on where.

Reigen clicks it and at first, he doesn't quite believe what he's seeing. That decor, the colour of the walls, the furniture…. It's your apartment. He knows because he's been there; he's crashed on that very floor after several messy nights out, right beside the cushy bed that the camera is centered on.

He's absolutely, definitely, a hundred percent sure that that's your room.

For a second, he worries that someone might have snuck into your apartment and hidden a spy camera amongst your things without your knowledge. It's not unheard of for creeps to conceal webcams in places to catch footage of unsuspecting victims and although Reigen likes his fair share of voyeuristic content, he would never watch something that wasn't clearly a purposely set up scenario.

He reaches for his cell phone where it rests besides his keyboard, fully intending to call you and make you aware, when suddenly you're walking into frame and sitting on the bed, dressed only in your underwear, some sheer stockings and a ridiculously tiny little skirt.

You shoot the camera a coy smile and offer a little wave. “Welcome back, everyone.”

Reigen's jaw drops open.

You're on his fucking porn site.

You. Of all people.

Stunned, he watches you shift so that you can lie down on your bed, lounging leisurely on top of a thick, comfy looking blanket that covers your bedspread.

The lighting is low and moody, but there's a clearly a softer source of light emanating from somewhere behind the camera to ensure your half naked body can be seen properly.

Music is playing gently in the background, and beside the bed is a small table, on which rests a small selection of intimidating looking sex toys. There are a couple of interesting looking dildos, a chunky vibrator, and a few bottles of oil or something similar.

He watches you lean forward slightly to apparently read something on screen, your eyes scanning back and forth. Your tits press against the fabric of your bra as you shuffle up where you're resting, leaning forward to fiddle with what he assumes is your computer.

Reigen’s throat suddenly feels very dry.

Barely five hours ago, you'd been wishing him a nice weekend as you'd left the office, heading off for home to spend the weekend doing something that didn't include him. When you'd told him that you'd been too busy to go for a drink with them, he hadn't thought much of it.

Perhaps you'd been lying. Perhaps the real reason you'd said no had been to go and do this....

Briefly, he wonders if he's seeing things. Perhaps the room is simply similar to yours and you're not really you at all. Just another person who looks exceptionally similar.

He decides he needs to make sure that what he's stumbled across is the truth and not an unbelievably accurate illusion.

Reigen reaches for his phone again. Your face is just out of frame now and he can't be 100% sure that it's really you, but he's certain that he needs to find out. To test his theory, he types out a simple text, something casual to ensure that you'll have no idea that he's watching, and waits to see what happens.

[Reigen] - Hey, are you busy?

On screen there's a buzzing sound. You twist into a kneeling position to reach behind you and his blood runs cold. There's no way that it's a coincidence your phone is going off right now.

As he watches you shuffle back up to sit closer to the camera again, your pretty face comes into view and so does your cell phone, head aloft like a trophy. No doubt about it: this is no look alike.

You study your phone, reading the text and then glancing over to look at your audience. "Oh," You say, holding your phone up with a cheeky grin. “It's my boss.”

Underneath the video screen, there's a chatbox that's scrolling along, ticking upwards with each new message that pings through, and you look away from your phone to check it.

Several new chats pop up at your announcement and Reigen somehow manages to tear his eyes away from you to see what's being said.

What does he want? asks one viewer.

You laugh, soft and amused. “He wants to know if I'm busy.”

Your voice is softer than Reigen used to hearing it; teasing and intimate in a way that does something funny to his insides. A few more messages spin up in the chat:

is he cute?

Do you like him?

Would you fuck him?

Reigen swallows hard.

It's not like he hasn't thought about it. He's considered it several times, actually. In great, vivid detail. When he can't find any decent porn to get off too, he often finds thoughts of you wandering into his mind. Reigen knows it’s weird and unethical, but if no one else is aware then it's not like anyone can be hurt by it.

He's harboured a crush on you since the moment you'd walked into the office to drop off your CV and he hasn't known peace since. Every time you bend over to pick up files, he sneaks a peek at your ass. Whenever you brush up against him in passing, he prays he doesn't get hard. It's a nightmare.

When he's alone and he's given up on finding an ethical source of arousal for the evening, he’ll think about you in your office wear, or your underwear, or sometimes in nothing at all.

He's always had to imagine what you might look like naked and for some reason, he's never been able to get the vision to seem quite right. With nothing to reference, it's hard to know beyond the silhouette hidden by your clothes.

Until now, anyway.

You're leaning in close to look at the chat messages again, your tits pressed up against the thin fabric of your bra. They jiggle nicely as you move and Reigen feels his cock stir in his sweatpants. He reaches for the half-empty can of chuhai beside his PC and takes a swig to soothe his dry mouth.

“Oh yeah,” you say, biting down your lower lip. “Very cute. I'd fuck him anytime.”

Reigen almost chokes on his mouthful of fruity alcohol, spluttering awkwardly.

You begin to run your fingers up between the valley of your breasts, reaching over to toy with the lace cups of your bra and dipping your fingertips underneath the material to brush against your nipples.

“He's got such a great ass,” you whisper to the camera, biting down on your lip to stifle a smile. “I check him out all the time but he never catches me. What do you think he'd do if he did?”

Reigen's breath hitches. His face feels red hot at your confession and he knows that he's probably bright red, but can't believe what he's hearing.

The chat bumps up several rows, filled with suggestions and fantasies:

He'd punish you.

Probably promote you lol.

I bet he'd fuck you in the office.

“He would,” Reigen groans out loud to his empty room. “You have no idea how much he would.”

He's had plenty of daydreams about that exact scenario; bending you over his desk when everyone else has gone home for the day or letting you ride him while he sits in his office chair, slow and sweet until he fills you up. The thought drives him insane.

Almost of its own accord, his hand slips down to palm at his dick. There's a steadily growing wet patch on the front of his pants as pre cum begins to gather at the head and the slick friction of the fabric there only arouses him more.

“Ah,” you gasp happily as you pinch one of your nipples. “I wish.”

After a few seconds of touching your tits, you trace your hand up towards your collarbone and run your fingertips along them, back and forth slowly. It's teasing, erotic almost, and Reigen imagines your delicate fingers on his own skin, tickling along the soft flesh of his thighs or clutching at his back.

He's still reeling at your admitted attraction to him. He knows there's a chance that you're only playing things up for the camera, but he's so hard and so turned on by the notion that you might be into him that he doesn't care how true it is right now.

Rather than worry too much about the legitimacy, he hooks his thumb into the waistband of his sweats without looking away from the screen and shuffles in his seat so that he can expose his cock fully.

He knows he shouldn't really be watching this. He isn't even sure why you're on this website; he pays much more than he used to and there's no way you're short for cash, so you're not moonlighting to make ends meet. Maybe you just enjoy it?

The idea thrills him and so does the knowledge that what he's doing is forbidden. Again, he supposes that if you have no clue that he's watching you right now then he can excuse his actions…. Right?

“It's so unprofessional,” You're almost whispering now, talking softly as your touch travels to different parts of your body. “But I think about it all the time.”

Reigen reaches for the small bottle of lube that sits in the corner of his desk while you talk, squeezing some out onto the fingers of one hand. He trails it around his dick slowly, ignoring the chill and covering himself until the skin is slick and wet.

The chat pings again, except this time there's the sound of coins dropping. A pink message appears:

[400 coins] Ass shake/Dance

Briefly, Reigen is confused. He has no idea what that means and his hand pauses to check the message. Next to it is a little cartoon coin, and he realises that you've been tipped money to do an activity.

You smile brightly, however, clearly pleased by the strange sound, and slowly you get up from your seat. “Thank you so much!” You giggle, blowing a kiss to the camera.

He watches you stand and fiddle with something that looks like a TV remote, and then the quiet music in the background becomes a little louder. You begin to sway your hips in time with the beat of the music, turning on the spot slowly.

“Should I send my boss a video of what I'm busy doing?” You ask, rocking your ass back and forth.

The skirt lifts when you bend down and Reigen catches a peek of your underwear when you lean over a little more. You turn until your back is to the camera and then begin to lift the skirt higher and higher as you dance, tantalisingly slow.

Reigen squeezes the base of his cock and smirks to himself. “I wouldn't bother.”

Your skirt recedes to reveal the bare skin of your ass. You're wearing lacy underwear that barely covers your pussy and Reigen groans at the sight, watching closely as you wiggle your hips until the fat of your ass wobbles deliciously.

He barely gets ten seconds worth of a look before you're moving back to sit on your bed, and he can't help the disappointment that rises in him.

With his free hand, Reigen takes a chance and bravely types out a message in chat:

[anon] - keep going

“Ah ahh,” you chastise, clearly reading the command he's sent through. “Tip to make requests, boys, you know the rules.”

Reigen isn’t sure what he's more turned on by; the business sense or your bossy attitude.

One handed, he swiftly clicks through on the link that auto generates in chat to make an account. He spares a thanks that modern technology allows him to keep his credit card info saved online and as soon as everything has gone through, he comes right back to your room.

The chat spits out a menu, triggered by the forbidden request, that clearly states an extensive menu of services. There are lots of options, and Reigen's mouth begins to salivate as he scrolls down the list. Whilst he's busy reading, another tip comes in from a different user:

[800 coins] - topless

“Oh,” you say, grinning as you reach for your bra straps. “Stepping things up, huh?”

Your comment makes Reigen look up again and his stomach flips when he realises what's about to happen.

Teasing, you thumb down each strap, letting them fall down to your sides. You reach behind yourself to undo the clasp and very gradually, you lower the pretty lingerie until finally, the lace falls away to expose your chest to the camera.

Reigen stares at the screen, mouth open, and his hand begins to stroke his cock. He's imagined seeing your naked chest more times than he can recall but his mind's eye is nothing in comparison to the real (or rather, virtual) thing. They're gorgeous. Perfect, in fact. He's not sure that he's ever seen anything better.

Embarrassed as he is to admit, Reigen has never actually seen anyone naked in real life. He's never even fucked another person, but he's seen his fair share of porn and none of those videos compare to you.

Every fantasy he's ever had has been completely imaginary and he doesn't dare make a move to find sex in real life; being an adult virgin is horribly embarrassing and he doesn't want to risk being laughed at. For now, he'll stick to his usual viewing habits.

“Fuck.” Reigen mutters, breath hitching. His hand works the length of his cock, fist tight and slick with lube, and on screen you're reaching up to play with your nipples again.

Enraptured by your image, he tightens his grip on the bottom of his dick every time you pinch yourself gently.

You take both tits in hand and squeeze them together, biting your lower lip and grinning as chat messages pour through. It's evident that you're enjoying yourself and it makes Reigen feel slightly less guilty for being a pervert.

The languid strokes of his cock become even slower while he types out the message he'd intended to send before, heart pounding in anticipation:

[950 coins] - remove skirt/underwear

The jingle of the tip plays and your eyes light up. “Oh,” you say, leaning forward to check the request. “You're new here.”

Momentarily, Reigen's hand pauses. His username is just a randomly generated set of numbers. There's no way you'd be able to tell his true identity from, yet he briefly panics that you might have rumbled him. He holds his breath for a second.

You nibble your lower lip and smile, but his cover isn't blown. “You guys are excited today, hm?” You laugh, getting up again and shifting the camera to ensure everyone can see what you're doing.

Carefully, you make a show of lifting up your skirt and undoing the side clasp before letting it fall to the floor with a soft thump. The panties you're wearing are tiny, yet they cover you well enough that it's hard to see much just yet. You give your ass a little shake again and bend over, spreading your legs.

Relieved, Reigen's hand begins to move again and without looking away, he shirks his sweatpants completely. His body feels hot all over and being constrained by his clothing feels unbearably uncomfortable. He kicks the trousers away from him and grins at your excited laughter.

“How's the view?” You ask, squeezing your ass gently.

“Perfect,” Reigen grunts, as though you can hear him.

You're reaching between your legs now, stroking your covered pussy up and down, and Reigen moans quietly. Chat messages are stacking up below your video screen, but he only has eyes for you right now.

Deliberately unhurried, you drag your hand back through your legs and take hold of the waistband of your panties. You pull the fabric down, down, down, slipping it over your round ass until finally you're baring yourself to the world in the most intimate way.

Wetness clings to your underwear when you tug it away and you're visibly aroused by the movement, making a soft sound of pleasure.

Reigen almost cums immediately. He grits his teeth and exhales sharply, letting go of his cock and willing himself not to finish early. It would be a shame to spend himself so soon and he wants nothing more than to spend all night staring into you.

“Like that?” You ask your audience, voice a little muffled now that you're turned away.

Several messages affirm that they do, in fact, like what they're seeing.

Reigen breathes heavily through his nose and rolls his chair closer to the monitor again. He takes a second to calm himself down, though he doesn't stop watching you wiggle your backside, and once he feels capable, he types out another request:

[1000 coins] - touch yourself

This time, he follows it up with a ‘please’ and you turn slightly to see what's happening.

You smirk and move back toward the bed, choosing to sit down and spread your legs this time. The view is still perfectly clear and Reigen finds that he likes this much better; he can see your pretty face, your tits and your wet pussy all at once. Hand firm on his dick, he starts to jerk off again.

“Do you like what you see?” You giggle, hand wandering southwards.

“Fuck, yeah I do.” Reigen groans, swiping his thumb over the head. The motion sends a shiver through his body and he fumbles with his free hand and keyboard to type out an affirmative answer.

You smile, coy, and stop your fingers just above your clit. “And what do we say when we want something?”

Reigen swears under his breath. He likes this; being forced to ask nicely and hope that he's given what he wants. He doesn't know why he enjoys it, but the idea of having to plead for your attention and his own release does something undeniable to his body, and he loves every second.

The flush on his face travels down his neck and burns the tips of his ears, spurred on by his myriad of emotions.

With one sweaty hand he types out:

please

touch yourself, please

The smile that comes to your face when you notice his message is positively wicked and your hand drops lower, gathering wetness. “I think you can ask even more nicely than that, can't you?”

He doesn't care that he's paid for a simple act. What he's getting right now is more arousing than anything he could have ever dreamt of receiving. The way his cock twitches in his hand suggests his body agrees. “Please.” Reigen whispers to his empty room, voice breaking. “Fuck, please, touch your fucking pussy for me.”

Panting and moaning with every stroke of his fist, Reigen shakily taps out another desperate response.

plsaase

pls

im begging u

It's obviously the right response because you do exactly as he asks: your fingers begin to brush over your clit and you gasp at the contact. Gently, you rub yourself in tiny circles. Your skin glistens in the light and even with the music playing, he can hear your moans and sighs when your touches speed up.

Reigen jerks himself off in time with your movements. His apartment fills with the wet, oily noises of his lubed up palm on his dick and his heavy breathing, broken only by his pathetic begging for more. “Oh god,” he whines, leaning forward in his seat to grip the edge of his desk. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He wants to ask for more, to see you get even more explicit, however he worries that if he lets go of his desk he might keel over. Fortunately for Reigen, another request pings in. This one goes even further.

The anonymous user tips a significant amount and much to Reigen's horny delight, asks you to use one of the larger sex toys on the table next to your bed.

A few minutes pass in which you continue to touch your clit and Reigen realises that you're getting caught up in this yourself. You're so lost in your own pleasure that you're too busy to see what your audience want.

It turns him on no end.

Eventually, you force yourself to pause and glance at the chat. There are a few annoyed messages about you ignoring them, but you pay them no mind, instead saying a breathless thank you to the new requester and reaching for a sizable, pink dildo. It's thick and decently long, and you hold it out for him to see properly.

“Should I use this one?” Your voice is fraying at the edges, strained from all your noise.

Oh yeah

Fuck yeah use it

Do it

You don't appear to need much encouragement and you sit back on your elbows, legs spreading even wider as you rub the head of the fake cock over your pussy.

Reigen imagines that instead of cool, false plastic, it's his dick that you're grinding your hips into. He pictures himself between your legs, gently slapping the swollen tip of his cock against the soft, wet folds of your cunt whilst you squirm and groan in pleasure. His moans are getting louder now, unrestrained and wrecked, and he knows he sounds like a girl but he can't find it in himself to give a fuck.

Again, he almost cums, but rather than let it happen he allows himself to get as close as he dares and then stops touching completely. He has plenty of time to draw this out; you haven't even put the dildo in yet.

You're still circling it around your hole slowly, grinning and chewing on your lip in anticipation of what's to, rather ironically, come.

Sweat trickles down Reigen's neck. He's over stimulated and unbearably turned on, body red hot and flushed. He reaches for his drink again and takes a quick gulp before picking right up where he left off.

“Wanna see me fuck myself?” You tease, peering at the message box.

Reigen is the only one who responds. He knows it's likely because every other person in here is too busy getting off to answer, yet he seizes the chance to catch your attention.

yes please

Your warm smile returns and he finds himself smiling too, enjoying the way your expression softens. “You're a sweetheart, aren't you?” You say fondly, sitting up a bit more.

Reigen grins and nods, even though he knows you can't see him. He dials up his politeness, practically gagging for your attention, and moves his hand down to stroke along the sides of his dick, teasing himself as he type:.

yes ma'am

Something changes in your gaze at his message, hot and intense, and you start to circle your clit again. “Ask me again.” You sigh happily. “Be a good boy.”

Reigen's brain almost short circuits at your comment. He moans again and tips his head back, hand working hard between his legs. “Oh, my god.” He chokes out, scrambling to answer via his keyboard. “Fuck, that's- say that again.”

please ma'am

pls fuck urself

ill do anything i swear

just call me that again

You're clearly entertained by his request. Even more so, you appear to be turned on by it. Slow and steady, you ease the dildo into yourself, keening loudly at the sensation yet still managing to fulfill Reigen's request.

“Good boy,” you breathe, smiling wide. “You're such a good boy for me.”

Reigen makes a humiliating noise. It's a mix of a moan and a sob, and he stops jerking his cock in favour of fucking his own hand instead. His hips buck forward wildly, uncontrollable and desperate, and he attempts to match the tempo in which you fuck yourself.

He watches in awe as you drive the dildo into your cunt, arousal dripping down the length of it and leaving it shiny and slick.

“Oh, fuck,” Reigen chokes out breathlessly, grinding into his fist like he's fucking you himself. “Don't stop, fuck, don't stop.”

His moans mix with yours on screen and if he could bear to close his eyes, he might imagine that this is what it feels like to be inside you. As it is, he can't bear to look anywhere but at you.

Your hand is moving quickly now, pumping the toy in and out while you rub your clit just as fast, crying out in pleasure.

Reigen's girly moans pick up in pitch and he begs you with everything he has: “Keep going, please, I-ha! You feel so good, so good, fuck!”

As though you can hear his pleas, you don't relent your movements. Your tits bounce with the force that you're fucking yourself with and you groan every time you hit a good spot.

It's obvious that you're no longer playing along with whatever your audience wants; You're lost in the sensation and Reigen is completely beside himself, right there with you.

His chair rocks and creaks underneath his moving weight and he scrunches up his bare toes against the wooden flooring to stay put, listening to you as you continue to encourage him.

“You're my good boy, aren't you?” You pant, eyes closed. “Touching yourself just like I asked….”

“Yeah,” Reigen whimpers. “I swear, just for you, whatever you want.”

“Fuck,” you sigh on screen, angling the toy. “Fuck.”

Reigen can barely breathe. He's sweating profusely, rivulets trickling down his brow and blurring his vision, and he can feel something tight and white hot coiling in his lower belly.

The pressure is building slowly, growing with every pass of his fist and every moan you make on his monitor, and his ability to speak unravels. He's babbling about anything and everything, eyes darting from your pussy to your face, and the feeling in his belly spikes.

“Oh, god, oh fuck,” he whines, long and low. “I'm gonna cum, I'm- please, let me cum!” His pathetic moans hitch and in their lull, he hears you speak a single word that sends him crashing over the edge:

“Reigen!”

You cry his name quietly, sweeter than a prayer, and shudder as you climax with him.

Unable to stop it, Reigen's orgasm hits him so hard he almost blacks out for a moment. He cums hard, spilling all over his fist and stomach, his toes curling and body convulsing with intense pleasure. He ducks his head and shouts something unintelligible, drool dripping down from his open mouth to mix with the mess on his hand.

The aftershock of his orgasm has him spasming in its wake, muscles twitching and cramping as he heaves for breath. Reigen releases his cock and slumps back in his chair, panting hard like he's run a marathon.

He's fairly confident that it might be the best orgasm he's ever had.

On screen, the music has stopped and there's only the sound of your laboured breathing filling the silence. You're panting hard, pussy spread by your toy, and you look wrecked. Your hair is a mess, your eyes are half-lidded, and underneath you the blanket is soaked.

Reigen wipes the sweat from his forehead with his clean hand and takes a few minutes to gather his bearings. He sees you remove the toy slowly and place it back on the bedside table before you sit back down, cross legged, on the bed. You avoid the wet patch, wrinkling your nose and flipping the blanket over to prevent yourself from sitting on it, and you pause to catch your breath. Your chest rises and falls rapidly for a minute, and he watches you catch your breath.

Clearly you're a seasoned professional however, because you go back to checking your chat messages only minutes later. Every user in the room is overjoyed with your performance and Reigen has to agree. He's never seen a porno anywhere near as sexy as what he just witnessed and he's not sure he ever will.

Reigen reaches over for the box of tissues next to his computer and carefully wipes up the mess on his hand. There's cum on the floor too and when he's confident that his jelly-like legs won't let him fall off the chair, he leans down to clean it up.

Once everything is less sticky, Reigen checks the chat. There are a good few messages pinging up and they make him smile, big and stupid, and more than a little smug:

Who is Reigen?

Fuck, he's a lucky guy

Wish I was him

Listening to you moan his name, watching your face whilst you'd fucked yourself silly, it's all imprinted on his brain forever.

He's still reeling over the fact that it was his name on your lips as you came. You've never shown interest in him like that, at least not to his knowledge, and if you've been getting yourself off to the thought of him anywhere near as much as he has to you, Reigen wonders if it might be worth catching a few more of these streams until he can find the courage to see if you might want to to go out sometime.

You're putting your lingerie back on when he looks back up to you again. There's a glow to you that only appears after a good fucking and Reigen's stomach summersaults. He knows that the small crush he has on you is going to snowball dramatically now.

He won't be able to look you in the eye again without thinking of the sounds you've made tonight. That being said, he’ll worry about how to deal with the awkwardness and the shame of spying on his subordinate once he's sober tomorrow morning. For now, he’ll enjoy the rest of his evening watching you.

You don't acknowledge the chat’s questions about who you're thinking of in your intimate throes, instead choosing to finish getting dressed and then grabbing your phone from where it sits at the end of your bed.

“Now I really should reply to my boss,” you tell the chat, leaning across the gap to click something with your mouse. “One second.”

The stream mutes and your fingers move back and forth over the phone keypad quickly. There's silence, and then Reigen's cell vibrates loudly. It scares the shit out of him and he snatches it up, staring at the screen.

Sorry. I was playing online. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?

Reigen grins and fires back the smartest reply he can think of.

[Reigen] - Don't wear yourself out ;)

On his monitor, he sees you laugh silently, head tipped back and smiling wide, and his heart skips a beat.

Tomorrow it is.

#reigen arataka #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #reigen arataka x reader #reigen smut #MP100 #mp100 reigen #reigen/reader #reigen x reader #reigen arataka/reader #reigen fluff #mp 100 reigen #mob psycho reigen #my fics #reigen x you #reigen arataka x you

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teamatsumu · 8 months

Text

DRUNKEN KISSES.

characters: bokuto, atsumu, oikawa

word count: 1255

cw: fluff, some angst, fem!reader

taglist: @keiva1000

BOKUTO KOUTARO:

“Watch it!” You yelped when Bokuto stumbled over uneven pavement, making you sway as well, considering almost half his body weight was on you. You cursed under your breath as Bokuto simply giggled, finding the whole situation supremely funny.

“Kou…” You sighed, shaking your head and trailing off. You couldn’t possibly be mad at him. Sure, you had to drag your ass out of bed so late at night in order to fetch him after Hinata had called you, saying he was wasted beyond belief and there was no way he could get home by himself. But you couldn’t really be ticked off by that. You had seen first hand how hard Bokuto had worked in the weeks leading up to the new volleyball season. As his roommate, you knew intimately how jam packed his schedule was with training, running, practicing. So Bokuto absolutely deserved to let loose for a bit, even if it meant you supporting his weight and dragging his humongous body along with you back to your shared apartment.

Two more blocks. You could do this.

Bokuto was humming some tune under his breath, lost in his own little world, probably still thinking about MSBY’s momentous win against the Adlers tonight. The thought also put a smile on your face, remembering how you felt watching the game on TV, watching Bokuto’s grinning face. You were only pulled from your thoughts when Bokuto nudged you with his hips, making you look up at him.

“Hi.” He flashed you a million dollar smile, making your lips twitch up as well. His happiness was contagious.

“Hey there.” You replied.

“‘M really happy.” His face was flushed, eyes darting all over your face, slightly hazy. You felt your body buzz at his words, your expression softening.

“I’m glad.” You whispered back, staring at the warm gold of his irises.

Your pace was slowing, until you two had stopped completely. Dead silence surrounded you, the cold air of the night going unnoticed where your bodies were touching, Bokuto’s heavy arm thrown over your shoulder. He leaned down quickly, lips meeting yours.

They were cold, but soft, moving slowly over yours, lips dragging as if trying to memorize the shape and taste of yours. Your heart jumped, your grip around his waist tightening, mirroring his movements by tilting your head.

The streetlight overhead flickered a bit. It went unnoticed by both of you.

MIYA ATSUMU:

You blinked your sleep-heavy eyes open, jerking up to look at the clock on the far wall. Nearly 1am. And yet, there was no mistaking the heavy banging happening on your front door right now.

A deep scowl was etched on your face as you stumbled to the front door in your pajamas. The banging was relentless and without pause, and you nearly yelled at the person when you put your eye to the peephole. A groan escaped your lips when you glimpsed messy dyed blonde hair, closing your eyes and praying for patience from the lord above.

Atsumu gave you a sleazy grin when you opened the door, a long, whiny ‘heyyyy’ leaving his lips. He leaned an arm against the doorframe, trying to look smooth but failing miserably when he slipped and slammed a shoulder against the wall instead, making him curse and pout. If you weren’t so angry, you would’ve laughed.

“It’s 1 in the morning.” You deadpanned, taking in his appearance. He was wearing a nice button-up blue shirt and black slacks, the sleeves rolled up and the first two buttons undone. His hair was a mess, his cheeks carrying a flush that you knew all too well.

“And you’re drunk.” You added, suddenly understanding why he had ended up on your doorstep so late at night. You felt yourself soften a bit in pity, watching how he swayed unsteadily on his feet, looking you up and down while being painfully obvious.

“Missed ya.” He mumbled, before giving you another lazy smile. But you could see through it.

Your breakup had been hard on Atsumu, who refused to accept that you no longer wanted to be a part of his life. Though this was the first time you were seeing him in person since you called it quits, he hadn’t stopped pestering you over calls and texts for weeks.

“Atsumu….” You sighed, feeling defeated. You saw the hurt flash in his eyes.

“What happened to ‘Tsumu?” He slurred, stepping closer to you until the space between you two was minimal.

“Go home.” You ignored his question.

“Gimme a kiss first.”

“Atsu-”

“Gimme a kiss. And I’ll leave.”

You sighed, closing your eyes for a second. When you opened them again and met his stare, catching the hope in his brown ones, you gave in.

What was supposed to be a short peck became a long, deep kiss, your tongues dragging over each other, his hand moving to the back of your head to keep you in place. Not that you wanted to move. One taste of him reminded you of what you had had, and you couldn’t help fisting his shirt, pulling his body closer to yours, stepping back into your apartment until the door was gently shutting behind both of you.

OIKAWA TOORU:

“This is exactly what you do if you want to burn a kitchen down, not make banana bread!” You yelped, pulling open the oven door only for huge clouds of black smoke to rush out of it. You coughed and waved both hands through the smoke, trying to clear it enough. You heard the telltale hum of the exhaust fan buzzing to life, mentally thanking Oikawa for having enough sense to turn it on.

Whoever thought drunk baking was a good idea? (It was Oikawa. Oikawa thought it was a good idea. And you were drunk too, so you had agreed with him)

You were sobering up pretty quickly though, realizing that you two could potentially be setting your entire flat on fire. But when you straightened up and looked back at Oikawa, you saw him chugging back another glass of red wine.

“Tooru!” You laughed incredulously, to which Oikawa looked at you with wide eyes, biting back a smile.

“What? You have the situation under control!”

You dissolved into giggles, leaning against the counter as you eyed the smoke clearing slowly. Oikawa came to stand next to you, both of you watching your pathetic attempt at baking disappear through the fan and out into the open air, carrying your failures along with it.

“That was fun.” Your roommate spoke up, making you smile.

“We should never have fun like this again.”

He nodded, looking down at you with his charming smile. His eyes were warm, chestnut hair slightly disheveled. His eyelids slid to half mast, gaze running lower until it was trained on your lips, and he hummed low. You felt your breath catch at the change in the atmosphere, subconsciously leaning closer to Oikawa. For some reason, in your alcohol-addled brain, he looked particularly captivating.

You didn’t even realize when exactly your lips met his, or when he reciprocated it. All you could concentrate on was the sweet taste of wine lingering on his lips, or the delicious drag of his hands down your sides before his fingers squeezed at your hips. His chest, firm but unsteady just like yours, was pushed flush against yours, and he sighed into your lips before pushing his tongue languidly into your mouth.

The smoke eventually cleared. Not that either of you were paying attention.

#bokuto koutaro x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #miya atsumu x reader #bokuto koutaro x y/n #bokuto kotaro x you #bokuto koutaro fluff #bokuto fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #oikawa tooru fluff #oikawa tooru x you #oikawa fluff #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu fluff #miya atsumu x y/n

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pandorascripts · 2 years

Text

unknowingly yours

warnings: dark themes, stalking, possessiveness, obsession, gore, murder, biting, jealousy, and im probably forgetting something too. (you’re responsible for ur own media consumption buddy)

pairing: dark!wednesday addams x vampire!fem!reader

(all characters aged up to 18)

notes: this was written on a whim at like 1am, and I’ve just now completed it. it’s kinda rushed and half-assed. enjoy :)

————

Gomez had tried to warn his daughter what it meant to be an Addams. What it meant to be so deeply in love with someone, that’d you do anything for them. You’d murder, abandon your morales, just to get one more taste of them. Wednesday had repeatedly shoved him off, claiming it would never happen, but it did. The moment Wednesday laid eyes on you, she could feel the obsession turning dark, horrific. She reveled in it.

Wednesday loved the thrill of sneaking into your dorm, watching you whilst slept. She loved sitting in the back of her class, watching you do anything and everything. Every time your shoulders raised, taking a breath, Wednesday could praise you for it. She never understood what her father meant, until people got too touchy. After countless victims, it Yoko became the newest.

Wednesday sat in the back of the cafeteria, watching you chat with your friends. Yoko slung her arm over you shoulder, and Wednesday felt the can in her hand crack. She tried calming breaths, something her father taught her. They didn’t work. She shook with rage, the can splitting in half with her might and slicing her palm clean. She didn’t care though, all that mattered now was Yoko, who was now leaning into your ear, whispering something.

Wednesday took in another shaky breath, how dare she touch what was hers. Wednesday decided she would show that vampire not to mess with her territory, and you, you were in trouble. You were hers, and it’s just about time you started acting like it.

She watched with rapt attention as you leaned back, giggling. You lightly slapped Yoko on the shoulder, blushing deeply and scolding her. Wednesday stood up, food untouched, and walked over to your table.

She bumped into the wood, her tray flying upwards and landing in Yoko’s lap.

“The hell, dude?” Yoko yelled, her hands in the air, away from the mess.

You rushed into action, picking up bits of food with a napkin.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it, Yoko. Calm down.”

Wednesday stared at you. Oh, you were so kind, beautifully unaware, and completely vulnerable. Wednesday filled with glee at the mere thought of ruining you.

“Yes, precisely.” Wednesday nodded to you, her eyes never leaving yours.

You smiled at her. “See you in botany, Wednesday?”

She nodded stiffly once again, her insides doing summersaults. You were so sweet, deliciously so. Wednesday walked away, her tray still on Yoko’s lap. That bloodsucker could deal with it, after all, it was only part of Wednesday’s much needed apology. She’d get the rest tonight, when Yoko was begging her for mercy. Her lips nearly twitched at the thought.

Wednesday walked back up to her dorm, still having fifteen minutes until botany with you. She set her bag down on her dark bed, the empty side of the room creaking. She was so pleased she didn’t have a roommate, that’d make this next part harder. Wednesday leaned under her bed, pulling out a huge poster board. She raced back to the door, double checking its lock, and set it up.

Her fingers traced over the red strings and pins delicately, stopping at a photo of you. You were laying down, enjoying the sun, your eyes closed and wearing your uniform. She remembered that day like yesterday, it was the first time you’d two had spoken. She only fell deeper.

Wednesday strolled down to the lake, watching as the lily pads drifted slowly. Canoes splashed across the water, people yelling and cheering.

“Hey! You mind if I sit here?”

Wednesday looked up, ready to dismember who ever decided to ruin her quiet. Her eyes laid on yours and, oh, Wednesday could’ve fainted. You were beautiful, an ethereal smile plastered on your face, eyes deep and true. It only solidified Wednesday’s desire for you.

“No, not at all.”

Wednesday scooted to the left, offering you more room against the tree.

You muttered a thank you.

“So, why are you all out here alone?”

Wednesday sighed, your voice was so pleasing, and it was bending her to your will even more so.

“I’ve decided to observe the Poe Cup. Thought it’d be amusing when they sink and fall. What about you, bellissima?

The Italian caught you by surprise, you were rusty, not really remembering most of it, so you shoved the nickname aside.

“Figured I’d get away from all the yelling. It’s more peaceful down here. I’m glad you’ve found my spot though.”

“Your spot?” Wednesday questioned, her hands itching to hold yours and never let it go.

“Yes, it’s been mine for a bit. Glad to share it though, been getting a bit lonely.”

Wednesday felt the Italian bubbling up, her father warned her about this too. She’d want to call you names, anything to give you a temporary mark as hers. She swallowed it though, choosing to instead ask you question with no flirtation.

“Lonely? You don’t have someone?”

You chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Wednesday wished she could’ve done it for you, she truly believed it was a crime that you’d do it yourself. A goddess like you shouldn’t waste precious time.

“No— I— No, I don’t. You?”

Wednesday shook her head. “I’ll have them soon.”

You smiled. “Do I know them?”

“You’re very familiar.”

You chuckled again. “What are they like?”

“They’re beautiful, out of the world so, and they make me crazy.”

You cracked a huge smile. “That’s cute. Sounds like you adore them.”

“Più di quanto tu possa sapere, mia amata.”

“I’m afraid my Italians a bit rusty. What’d you say?”

“Nothing of importance. No need to fret.”

Wednesday sighed. She traced her board again, documents and other people plastered up on there. Gently, she flipped it over, the backside littered with more photos. Everyone who was a threat.

She traced the X’s over their eyes, a wicked smile covering her face. Wednesday uncapped a red sharpie, drawing slow, deep X’s over Yoko’s eyes.

“Non ci disturberà più, amore mio,” she sighed.

Wednesday ordered Thing to put the board back under again. She marched off to her drawer, unlocking a secret section. Carefully, she pulled it out.

“Which one, Thing? The mace, my machete? Or should we do it in style? After all, we are aiming to impress her.”

Her fingers grazed over her arsenal of weapons.

“Let’s go old fashioned, hm?” She asked, pulling out a wooden stake. “Yoko’s barely even a threat.”

Wednesday set the oak down on her bed, taking out garlic spray before locking it back up. She slipped on a black pair of medical gloves, releasing them so they smacked painfully against her skin. Wednesday sighed in contempt.

“Thing, put on a glove. Nevermore’s already worried about their students. They keep disappearing don’t they?”

He tapped in agreement.

“What. A. Pity.”

She waited until dark, skipping her class, deciding to get more items like flashlights and garlic bombs to neutralize Yoko. Wednesday knew you wouldn’t be there, she always knew what you were doing. The psychic flipped open her pocket watch.

Two A.M, perfect time to strike.

Wednesday crept out of Ophelia Hall, traveling in the shadows until she reached Persephone’s Wing. Crouching down under room two-hundred and forty-three, Wednesday pulled the pin on the garlic grenade and rolled it under the door. It exploded silently, a jagged choking noise filling the room. Wednesday tossed another one, slipping out her crowbar and cracking the door open.

The anger from earlier surged through her as Wednesday marched inwards, she closed the door behind her. Knowing the lock was broken, she slid Yoko’s desk against the wooden frame.

Yoko choked out pleas, desperate to justify herself for an unknown crime. Wednesday looked up, inhaling deeply as she soaked in Yoko’s cries. The vampire continued crying, bloody tears streaking down her face as she choked.

Wednesday looked to her. Oh, it was exquisite. Yoko’s skin was burned and sores opened up, her neck straining for air, only to be poisoned a second later.

“Useless, bloodsucker,” Wednesday spat, stomping on Yoko’s stomach. A sharp crack echoed and Wednesday was delighted to hear a rib brake.

She crouched drown, driving the stake a mere inch from Yoko’s heart.

“You do not touch what is mine,” she spat again, her stake driving into her repeatedly, missing by an inch.

“I don’t—“ Yoko gasped, hoping to save herself.

“LIAR!” Wednesday shouted, diving the stake into her stomach and twisting it.

Blood gurgled out of Yoko’s mouth, her back arching upwards.

Wednesday leaned down into Yoko’s ear, stabbing her once again near her heart.

“She is mine. You are beneath her.” Pure venom erupted from Wednesday.

She cracked the stake up, driving it into Yoko’s heart. Wednesday panted, leaning back on her knees. She watched with glee as Yoko’s body disintegrated, burning into ash. At least vampires were easy to kill.

Wednesday picked up her stake. Tilting her neck to the left, she heard it pop and repeated the action.

“Thing, get the broom.”

Thing shuffled forward, the tall broom too much for him. Wednesday took it, sweeping the vampire remains.

“Nothing like a good murder, hm, Thing?”

He tapped, some ash flying up.

“Get out of her, I don’t wish for you to smell like garlic and cheap perfume.”

She tossed the bloody gloves into the trash bag, and replaced them with a new set. Wednesday set the broom down, pulling a record player out of her bag. She gently set it aside, shuffling through her travel collection until she reached Debussy: Cello Sonata in D Minor. She put the record on, breathing in heavily as it rang through her ears.

Wednesday held the garbage bag, filling it with Yoko’s ashes. She wiped her sweaty forehead, dust sticking to it.

“Thing, clean up the rest.”

She walked away, browsing the vampire’s trinkets. Wednesday paced to her jewelry box, flicking through the accessories. She gasped, a beautiful black skull ring, sat buried under hideous silver and gold necklaces. Wednesday gently pulled it out, holding it in her fingers.

Now this would make a lovely gift for you. See, Wednesday had a ritual, she’d kill your suitors, fake their leave and give you a gift from their collections. You’d yet to notice, considering all the beautiful gifts she gave were deemed ugly by the owner. For Rowan, she gave you a blood red ring, he probably received it from a family member, for Davina, it was a simple black hair clip. The others were less important, but she remembered them nonetheless. Whether it was a pining fool from across the room, or someone that had written you a love letter, only to scrap it moments later, Wednesday wouldn’t stand for that. The only person you should be with, is her, she was the only one who could treat you right. No one else understood you the way she did. Wednesday wasn’t going to let people stop her from achieving you.

Her next plan was set in action when you knocked on the door.

“Yoko, I thought we talked about this. I don’t gotta key, you cant lock the door,” you whined. “I’m so tired, please let me in.”

Wednesday frowned. Were there nights she didn’t let you in? She stood behind the door, opening it.

You walked through, glancing at Yoko’s bed.

“Yoko?” You called out, shuffling forward. You took note of the odd cello music. Classical was definitely not one of Yoko’s genres.

You closed the door, and Wednesday smashed a grenade in your face. Unfortunately, you weren’t like other vampires. Garlic wouldn’t affect you, but she knew vervain would.

You hissed, eyes burning. “Who’s there?” You cried out, the pain only getting worse. You tumbled down to the floor.

Wednesday crouched down to your level, cupping your jaw. You breathed heavily, still not understanding what was happening.

“Non mi diverto nel tuo dolore. Mi dispiace molto, ma deve essere fatto, amore mio,” Wednesday whispered.

You whimpered, only one person spoke to you in Italian.

“What did you do with Yoko?” You cried, rejecting her hand.

Wednesday seethed. She knew you’d be upset, but couldn’t you see? This was for you. All of it.

“I killed that useless bimbo. I had to.”

A sob racked through you, your eyes still clamped shut. You scrambled back again, hitting Yoko’s bed.

“You didn’t have to,” you cried, hugging your knees.

Wednesday walked over to you. She lifted your head up, wincing at the damage. Your eyes were bright red, bubbling and oozing.

“Mio cuore,” Wednesday whispered. She straightened your legs, sitting down on your thighs. Gently, she brushed back your hair, trying to remove it from your tear-soaked cheeks.

You continued crying, wishing she’d just go away, but she wouldn’t. You hated yourself because in some twisted, screwed up way, Wednesdays sweet nothings calmed you down. She was a murderer, she killed Yoko ruthlessly, and vervained you, so why did you feel for her?

“La mia amata, this is going to cause you pain, okay? It’s going to be alright though.”

Wednesday kissed your forehead, raking her hand through your hair. Then, her hand pulled back and tied something around your wrist.

You screamed out in pain, only to be muffled. She had restrained your hands with vervain-soaked cloth, and tied another one around your mouth.

Your eyes darted open and you lurched forward. The restraints burned your mouth and wrists. Wednesday cupped your face again, placing delicate kisses on your head.

She shushed you softly, one of her hands supporting your neck as you sobbed. Your breathing became labored and you could only focus on the pain. Your hands felt numb, wrists burning and screaming for release.

Every breath you took scorched your nose and seared your tongue. Your eyes clamped shut, the tears only increasing.

Wednesday hushed you once again, asking you questions. They all just faded away, the pain drowning them out. She leaned in close to your ear.

“It’s okay. Breathe.”

You followed her instructions, her words grounding you. The pain trickled into the background, and you let her voice guide you.

“Good girl,” she husked out.

You took in another breath with her, shaking.

“That’s it.”

Your eyes flickered open, meeting her dark face. You wondered how she could see when the lights were off, but you shoved that aside. You focused on her touch, her breaths, her weight on your thighs. You breathed in deeply again.

“I don’t want to tie up your legs.”

You stiffened, the last thing you wanted right now was more vervain coursing through your veins. Wednesday quickly hushed you.

“I’m not going to, but you must promise me something.”

You nodded.

“Do not, under any circumstance, run away from me. I’ve waited too long for this moment.” Her voice faded into a whisper as her sentence closed, and you shivered.

“Do you agree to my terms?”

You nodded your head.

“Good,” she whispered.

Slowly Wednesday got off you. The cold enveloped you, and you greedily missed her warmth. You were sick, you thought. This psycho murdered your friend, and here you were, pining. Disgusting.

You breathed in again, the vervain killing you every time.

You were too wrapped up in your head, that you hadn’t even notice Wednesday packing up some of your belongings.

Your eyes darted around the room, her dark figuring jumping all over the place. You wanted to ask her what she was doing, but the sizzling in your mouth wasn’t worth it.

You breathed in shakily, gaining courage. You chomped downwards, your hands spreading apart, and an involuntary scream racked through you. Wednesday rushed over to you, trying to figure out what you were doing. You clamped your mouth down again, and tried to pull the restraints off.

“Hey! No, no, no,” she yelled.

There wasn’t anything Wednesday could do though, she watched as you dropped down. You made yourself pass out from the pain, all so you wouldn’t experience this. Wednesday sighed in annoyance.

She cracked the door open, checking the halls. After seeing no one, she walked back over to you. Wednesday grunted as she picked you up, slinging you over her shoulder. She hated doing this, bodies were so heavy and always a pain to carry. Wednesday decided that she’d get the rest of her stuff later, you were more important.

Wednesday walked back to her dorm, ducking behind pillars and walls when voices were near. She sighed in relief, placing you on her bed. Wednesday carefully undid your binds, tying them to her bedpost so you couldn’t run. She flinched as the sizzle from your skin filled the silent room.

Wednesday walked back to Yoko’s room, picking up your stash of belongings that she’d packed for you, returning the room as it was. She packed up her other duffel bag, making sure not forget her record player, and walked out. Thing trailed after her.

“Lurch has been notified to pick us up?”

Thing tapped.

“He needs to get her before five. No exceptions.”

He tapped again.

“I don’t care about weather, Thing. He will get here, or he’ll go back in the grave where we discovered him.”

Thing scampered off, racing in front of her.

She reached her dorm once again and let out a breath of relief. Her bags were all packed, no sign of her existence anywhere. Thing did a good job for once.

Wednesday flicked out her pocket watch, checking the time.

3:16, the whole ordeal had lasted roughly an hour. Wednesday frowned, her new lowest not at all pleasing. She walked over to you, kissing you on the forehead softly. Wednesday untied your mouth piece and hoisted you against the head board.

She unsheathed her pocket knife from her boot and flicked it open. Wednesday shrugged off her plastic gloves, drawing blood over the wound she’d gotten previously. It opened easily, barely even closed, and rubbed it against your lips. The scent of blood had you drooling, waking you up instantly. You growled, looking possessed, and took her hand into your mouth. You fought against your restraints, trying to grab her hand for more. You removed your fangs out of her for a moment, trying to lick them off, and Wednesday retracted her hand. She waived it around, watching as you desperately nipped at it. The veins under your eyes turned a deep purple, blood smeared over your mouth. Your shoulders shook as you pulled at the restraints, trying to get free. The headboard would’ve been completely shattered by now if not for the dose of vervain you’d been hit with. As Wednesday observed your behavior, she realized something, you were a ripper. She moved her hand closer, watching as you shot forward and chomped down. Oh, this was glorious.

The perfect, sweet, charming goodie-two-shoes, was a killer beast. Wednesday knew she had to be careful with you, but an apart of her desperately wanted to ripped to shreds by your pointy fangs.

Wednesday got off the bed and walked into the bathroom. Your groans and snarls were music to her ears as she poked her skin, drawing more blood to taunt you. She cleaned up her hand, wrapping it in bandage. Wednesday took out a small vial and downed it, grimacing at the taste afterwards. That was for the compulsion. She shook, the taste alone not pleasing. Wednesday would usually hide it in her coffee, the flavor weighing it out, but she was running out of time.

Thing scampered into the bathroom.

“He’s here? See, it wasn’t too difficult was it?”

Thing tapped.

“Keep your distance, she’s hungry. Unfortunately for you, you can’t afford to have a chunk missing.”

He shivered, scampering off to meet Lurch.

Wednesday walked back up to you. You were crying once again, whimpering against the headboard. Wednesday went to wipe your tears, her red bandage nearing you. Your expression flipped like a dime, immediately going to ripper mode with the drug-like scent overwhelming you. Wednesday whipped her hand back.

She was quite curious. You’d been around blood before, whether it was other vampires drinking it, or some kid piercing his skin, you’d never had a problem. So why was it one with her?

“You need to behave,” Wednesday sighed out.

You snarled, bloody fangs flashing out at her.

“I will vervain you. This is your only warning,” she sneered.

You hissed once again, slumping backwards in defeat.

Wednesday slowly raised her hand, watching as you shivered with restraint. Your jaw clamped, eyes stuck on red. Your fangs pierced through your gums, and you bit into your own mouth to prevent yourself. Wednesday slowly untied your restrains, quickly tying them behind your back, and shoved you off the bed. She leaned into your ear.

“I stole your daylight ring whilst you slept. Thing has it now. Your only chance is to come with me, willingly, without causing problems. Do you understand? I willfry you.”

You shuddered, nodding hastily. Wednesday kissed the side of your neck and pushed you forward. The vervain burned your skin, but you trudged through it. You didn’t dare make a sound as you walked, the occasional wince was muffled by biting into your tongue.

Wednesday whispered praises into your ear as you walked down, your bags already taken care of.

Wednesday knew this facade had to look real, her parents were under the impression that you’d been dating for awhile. She informed you of this, walking down a flight of stairs.

“Do not say one word to them, Lurch, or any authorities, understood? Don’t worry about your daylight ring, we only do activities during the night. You’ll fit right in.”

Wednesday undid your restraints, and you gingerly rubbed at them. She raised her hand up to your face, and you looked in surprise at her.

“My bloods laced with vervain, so you’ll be unable to compel, and vulnerable. It’ll keep you in control, and your ripper side should despise it,” she explained.

You nodded, holding her arm. Shakily, you raised it against your mouth. You fangs ripped through her flesh, and you sighed in relief. Her blood was intoxicating if you ignored the sting of vervain, and your ripper side was going feral. The thought of you biting her neck, her shoulders, anywhere on her had you biting harder. You shook the thoughts from your mind, abruptly tearing her wrist away. You turned your back to her, blinking rapidly and heaving.

“Let me see you,” she whispered.

You shook your head. Getting wrapped up in your thoughts, you began to spiral, your victims faces flashing in your memories. You curled your hand into a fist, hitting the side of you head hard, trying to get them out. Wednesday’s hands shot up, stopping your hand from striking once again.

You clenched your eyes shut, panicking. Wednesday’s cold hands wrapped around your face, squeezing slightly as she wiped some fallen tears. The pressure lassoed you back to reality, your thoughts swimming into the dark basement of your mind.

Wednesday lowered your head, choosing to place it on her chest. Her loud heartbeat filled your ears, and your breathing settled. You inhaled deeply, shakily releasing it.

Her hands slowly started scratching the base of your neck, and she hummed quietly.

You focused on her heart again, hearing it pump steadily. Your ears picked up other noises too, her digestive system slowly working, the acid in her stomach bubbling slightly, and the blood coursing through her veins. The blood moving slowly drowned out her heartbeat, the image of you biting into her jugular filled your thoughts. Your fangs pierced out again, your eyes going darker. Clearing your throat hastily, you blinked rapidly. The whiff of lavender reeled you back to her, Wednesday’s presence returning. You sighed out heavily, leaning most of your weight on Wednesday.

God, you were so tired. Sometimes the thought of staking yourself seemed better than this, but you knew you couldn’t. You wouldn’t give up. Not until you’d served your sentence.

“Are you ready to go out to the car?” Wednesday quietly asked. You wouldn’t have picked it up if your senses weren’t heightened.

You nodded slowly, raising your head away from her. You gulped, not meeting her eyes. Wednesday may have been a murderous psycho, but you were a cold hearted ripper. It was hypocritical of you to judge her, especially since Wednesday’s never ripped off a head before. Wallowing in self-loathing, you walked of Nevermore’s doors hand in hand with Wednesday.

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sunlightmurdock · 1 year

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My Future In You | 2.2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

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Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, enemies to lovers kinda thing, requited love but they’re idiots your honour, smut, pinv, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy / birth complications

…

A little past 1am, legs stretched out ahead of you, draped across Bradley’s legs. Some old straight to TV movie playing, giggling like a couple of teenagers. Bradley loudly voices his complaint as he picks up a m&m that had been thrown at his forehead.

He’s in just a pair of shorts, his hair dry now and his curls a little shorter than normal. Navy regulations. You kind of miss the length that he used to have on the back and sides, but this look suits him too.

“I’m just saying, you’re the one who fucked my roommate.” You shrug, mock-nonchalantly, and pretend to focus back on the movie in front of you. It’s some dumb story of a small town cowboy.

In the mood for dramatics tonight, Bradley throws his head back and groans.

“Before I even met you!” He chides, sitting forwards and snatching the candy from you before you have opportunity to turn any more of them into projectiles.

“Then you texted her after you’d already knocked me up.” You remind him, playfully calm.

“Ah, ah — She texted me, it’s not like I would’ve fucked her again — and let’s not forget that you had a whole boyfriend until you were in your second trimester.” Bradley points out.

“And stop saying knocked up. Makes me feel weird.” Grumbling like a discontented teenager, Bradley nudges your leg with his so that you have to look at his face and see his little frown.

All of that seems so far away now. Ryan. Your roommates, who you’ll probably never see again. Christmas with your family. You’ve barely even thought about it all since you got here.

“I’m sorry, Bradley — how should I be phrasing it?” You tease.

His lips tug at the corners, threatening to disrupt his dramatic frown and disarm his little act. A small shrug of those broad, tanned shoulders.

“All those couples at the parenting class keep saying ‘when we found out we were expecting’. That works.”

“Mm, but when I found out I was expecting I cried for three days and when you found out you implied that I was a whore and offered me money. Our story doesn’t really sound like theirs’.” You remind him. He presses his lips together in a line. That feels so far away now too.

He remembers the anger he felt towards you back then, which is a complicated thing in itself. He remembers why, and how — and everything about that first week, actually. He remembers being so furious at you for making that choice without him. A complete stranger, complicating his future when he had just stepped out of his complicated past.

The anger still makes sense to him. He doesn’t feel it anymore, he isn’t proud of the way he acted, but he can look back now and know that it was all just fear.

Going from being a scared little boy and looking after a sick mother, to being an adult and having nothing to care for but himself, to then meeting you. It hadn’t felt fair to have that all stripped away before he had started it.

But now, when he thinks of this living room being empty, or that small room being an office instead of a nursery, it makes this all seem so much more bleak.

The movie credits roll, leaving you even more confused about what the plot was supposed to be. Bradley sits up and pushes himself onto his knees, then parts your legs for him to dip between. You’re sighing softly now, contented as he presses his lips to yours.

“I don’t think you’re a whore,” He mumbles against your mouth, making you chuckle softly against him. “And I’m glad that I knocked you up, for the record.”

Another soft chuckle. He presses his lips warmly to your skin. Cheeks, jaw. A gentle tour of your face.

“You are?”

“Yeah, you’re hot pregnant,” Bradley beams at you, earning himself another little laugh. “And — y’know, I’m excited for the kid too.”

Looking up at him, your fingers circle over his smooth, freckled shoulders. A few moments of silence pass between the two of you before a commercial comes on and disturbs the bliss.

“Time to put the baby to bed, don’t you think?” He asks. You glance down at your swollen stomach and back up at your new boyfriend. Smiling at him, you give a defiant shake of your head.

“We aren’t tired.” You decide.

A soft groan and he cups your belly in his hands, feeling soft fluttering kicks to unfortunately support your claims. Smile growing into an embarrassingly amused beam, you watch Bradley as he pushes your shirt up and peppers kisses across your stomach.

“Tell him to give his old man a break, some of us have to be up in a couple hours,” Bradley murmurs into your skin, earning himself an applause of his new favourite sound. He looks up grinning at your laughter. “What?”

“You, being somebody’s old man,” A quick scrunch of your nose and a shake of your head, laughter still bubbling through you. “Weird to think about.”

His cheeks redden like the tops of his ears, then he grins. Sitting back on his heels, his hands slide along your stomach to rest at the very bottom. Again, he feels a soft little kick against his palm.

“Y’know, I think he’s nocturnal. I barely felt him this morning and now he’s wide awake.” You explain.

Another shrug, smiling as he leans down and kisses your stomach once more. “Wanted to stay up and watch a movie with his folks.” Bradley muses, making you smile. Absentmindedly, you card your fingers through his fluffy, air-dried curls. His lips press warmly to the underside of your belly, “No harm in that.”

Fingers trailing from his auburn curls, down over the tanned muscles in his shoulders as he peppers kisses across your stomach.

“He’s got you wrapped around his finger already. Old man.” You tease, nudging at his leg with your foot. He chuckles softly, cool breath tickling your skin. Another kiss, then he looks up at you.

“Me? — Mama’s the one letting him stay up late.” Bradley prods, sitting up and bringing his mouth to yours once more. The kiss is slow, lazy, his hand cupping your hip. When he leans over you now, your stomach always bumps into his middle. He’s going to miss it when it isn’t there anymore.

Turning his head, he presses his face into your neck and nips softly at your skin. You hum, keening towards the feeling. It becomes growingly tender, lips replacing teeth, tongue soothing over the warm spots left behind.

Finally, he sits back up and kisses your lips chastely. “Will you come to bed with me?”

“You can go ahead, I won’t wake you up.” You promise.

“I know, but I like falling asleep with you.” He squeezes softly at your hips, remembering to be gentle with your sore joints these days. He sits forwards and kisses your mouth again, then again after that. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that he isn’t going to stop until you agree.

Pushing against his bare chest, he sits back on his heels and raises his eyebrows at you.

“Fine…” You huff, extending your arms for him. Slipping his hands into yours, he’s on his feat with an annoying level of ease that you can no longer manage. He tugs you up with him.

“I’ll lock up.” Ducking around you and kissing your neck, he leaves you with a gentle pat on the ass and then moves to make sure all of the doors and windows are locked and that the lights are off. You pad along the hallway to your shared bedroom and peel your shirt over your head.

Over the past month, you seem to have really popped. The kid is really making himself known in there. Enough so, that you’re well into the stage now of wearing exclusively maternity clothes or stretching out Bradley’s old gym clothes. Tonight, given the lingering heat, you opt for an old basketball shirt that Bradley hasn’t fit into since high school. Before he grew a foot and lost eighty pounds in his junior year.

It’s not huge on you at this stage of your pregnancy, but gives you the reprieve of a waistband pressing into your stomach.

Bradley’s chest hits your back before you even feel him approaching, turning his face into the crook of your neck, almost knocking you over with his weight.

His hands skim under the shirt and up over your stomach, making an all-too-familiar beeline for your breasts. He groans softly into your skin, growing half-hard against your back.

“Mm-mm,” You’re smiling and shaking your head at him all at once. “You need to go to bed, remember?”

“Fuck,” He breathes out, eyes closed, soft skin under his palms. If he pressed any harder into your back, he would knock you onto your front. “I do.”

Your palm slips between the two of you, reaching back to cup him over his shorts, stroking just loosely over the length of his hardening cock.

“Would be pretty difficult to sleep with that, though.”

“You’re such a tease.” He mumbles into your neck, kneading softly at your breasts. He rolls his hips forwards slightly, using your hand for friction on his increasingly hard cock.

“Are you flying tomorrow?” Your head falls back to rest against his shoulder, his lips sucking softly at the curve of your neck. His realization courses through him like relief, you can practically feel it.

His head shakes quickly. “In a classroom all day.”

Your palm squeezes softly around the tent in his shorts, a quiet hum, mock consideration, leaving your lips. His hands push at the shirt, slowly dragging it up your middle and tugging it over your head.

His eyes feel heavy on you, hands trailing featherlight along your sides. Bradley reached out slowly, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder as he takes hold of the band in your hair. He’s especially gentle as he takes it down and turns his face towards your hair.

Illuminated by the soft light of the bedside table, Bradley’s becoming increasingly gentle with you — each time that you’ve slept with him recently, you can feel that he’s being more careful than he would normally be. He knows that you’re sore and more tired than you would normally be, but he never once declines the opportunity to have you.

Today is no exception as he turns you towards him, palms skimming along your back, squeezing at your ass as he holds you against him. Laying you down slowly on your shared bed, he notices your lips quirk softly as he covers your body with his.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You give a small shake of your head and lift to kiss him, still smiling when you pull back. He squints at you, studying the amusement on your features. It just makes you want to smile, is all. Him being so wordlessly soft; knowingly gentle. It doesn’t take a conversation or a warning. He knows your limits.

He knows you so well these days. The kind of shampoo or deodorant to pick up. Exactly which spots to press his fingers harder into when he’s giving you a foot rub. Exactly how to make you scowl at him and melt into his arms moments later when he’s being annoying. Your chest heaves with a particularly deep breath.

Bradley’s lips are on your chest, his hands skimming along your thighs, kneading at the flesh.

“Tell me you want me.” It’s a pant, really, just breathless. He rocks himself against your core, sitting back on his knees and squeezing at your hips. He takes that plush, pink bottom lip between his teeth and just stares down at you with the prettiest mahogany coloured eyes you’ve ever seen.

Teasing at an almost smile, you bite the inside of your cheek to contain it. A soft shake of your head and he smiles back at you. You glance down, watching him palm over the tent in his shorts. Finally, you meet his gaze once more. “I don’t think your ego can handle being any bigger than it already is.”

“It can take a little more,” Bradley hums. He exhales, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he watches his ring and index fingers dip through your folds, gathering your excitement on the digits. “Tell me you want me.”

You do. So badly that it makes you hot. Makes your muscles go tense. Makes your chest tighten.

“I want you,” It’s an admission that you never would’ve given him months ago, weeks ago even. There’s a lot about you now isn’t the same as it was a few months ago. It’s right on the tip of your tongue. I love you. It’s insane — terrifying, actually. You swallow and stick to what you know, “I want you.”

It would slip so effortlessly off of your tongue. When he’s buried into you, breathing hard into your ear, your face buried into the curve of his neck and god — he still smells exactly like him, now mixed with your body wash that he’s adamant he doesn’t steal. So natural, just another breathless, meaningless exhale in the middle of sex.

“You feel so good,” Bradley groans out, his thick fingers sliding along the nape of your neck and up into your hair. He curls them into your roots and flexes his fist just softly. Just the right amount of tug, a gentle pull that has you moaning against his jugular. “Fuck, baby… you…”

He turns his head, lips grazing your jaw and working lazily along to your lips. When he gets there, finally, it feels like your heart is going to explode out of your chest. He kisses you slowly, his tongue in your mouth and his hand in your hair. In your shared bed.

The mattress is softer here and he never wakes up with a sore neck because of the shitty pillows. Sometimes he wakes up with a sore neck because of how his body is wound around yours, but he doesn’t mind that as much. Moaning into his mouth as he fucks into you slowly.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

A breath catches in your throat and you aren’t sure whether it’ll turn into a laugh or a cry. Ultimately, it settles into a soft moan, your breath tickling his earlobe and making him shiver. Then, it becomes a laugh. He sits back on his knees to get a good look at that grin on your face.

Stretching out his shoulders, he guides your thighs over the tops of his. He gives them a soft squeeze and slows down a little, giving a breathless nod. “I mean it. You’re so fucking perfect, just like this.”

He wets his lips with his tongue, eyes trailing ever so slowly along your body, rocking his hips forwards tenderly. Briefly, you think that he’s going to say it. It doesn’t happen. Just more expletives, shallow breaths, eager grunts. More kisses, his hands on your skin.

After, when you’re settled into his old basketball shirt, under your sheets, and he is wrapped around your body from behind, his big palm sprawled out over your stomach — you’re okay with it. The silent knowledge that he must be on the same page.

The next morning, he has to be up before the sun is even halfway risen. He’s growing proficient at doing it without waking you. Showering silently and dressing in the bathroom, laying his clothes out the night before. It always makes you stir when he slips back into the room and leaves you with a chaste kiss on the lips, and a soft peck at the top of your rounded stomach. Still, you’re okay with that too.

You squirm a little, laying back against that perpetually uncomfortable plastic-leather mix exam chair. The gel is a lot more uncomfortable when you’re still hot from the mid-day Florida heat than it had been on those snowy mornings back in Virginia. Still, it’s all routine by this point. The cold jelly on your stomach, comfy pants that can easily be pushed down a little, warm sweater to combat the always high air conditioning.

You’re missing the part of your routine that has always made you comfiest: Jake sitting outside in the waiting room. He’s states away, Bradley’s stuck in work, you’re all on your own. It’s just a routine check up — just to check if he’s breach. You’ve been telling yourself that all morning. It hasn’t stopped you from sitting on the carpeted floor of his nursery and staring at his crib, still in the box.

Your heart swells at the idea of meeting him. You’ve been picturing him a lot recently. Your nose, Bradley’s lips. Soft morning cuddles, sleepless nights, constant diaper changes — it’s easy enough to tell yourself that you’re ready, it’s just more of a complicated thing to be certain that you are. Even if you’re not ready, he’ll be here in a few short weeks. You need to remind Bradley to pick up screws for his crib.

The doctor’s brows knit together, she adjusts her glasses and wiggles the wand a little bit, then looks back to you. “Hm, have you been experiencing reduced movement at all, Miss Seresin?”

The question throws you. Blinking at her, chilled from the whir of the air conditioning, you shake your head. Your throat squeezes. “No, not at all. He was kicking a lot last night.”

Both of you look back to the screen. He’s moving now. Little legs just kicking softly in that familiar black and white hue. A quick glance across, you stare at your sweater on the chair where Bradley should be sitting. It’s too cold in here. You’re not sure if you’re allowed to move to get the sweater.

“Hm,” She nods her head slowly. Her face is calm enough, her tone doesn’t give you any clues. The thought that crosses your mind hits you like a speeding semi. Blunt force, speeding — out of left field. Six and a half months of no contact and all of a sudden, sitting alone in this exam room, too cold, you want your Mom.

It’s clear that you’re panicking, and the doctor continues with as much caution as she can. She speaks to you like she’s trying to soothe a crying child, but it isn’t patronising. Her neatly groomed brows raise at you, “Any fatigue, bleeding, stomach pains?”

“I’ve been tired, I guess.” You squeak. She softens, reaching out and placing her hand into yours. Your throat tightens. “Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s just looking a little bit smaller than we would have expected for this stage in the pregnancy,” Your heart sinks, and the side of the exam table suddenly feels especially empty without Bradley there. The doctor continues on as comfortingly as she can. “I’d just like to run a few tests while you’re here — just to make sure that we’re prepared to make the end of your pregnancy as safe and comfortable as possible.”

As she turns and leaves you trapped in that little grey room with the closed blinds, shutting out any semblance of sunlight, all that you can think about is the first appointment that Bradley ever came to with you. Everything going on back then and how badly you had wanted him to not even show up. How confusingly nice it had felt to have him holding your hand through it. Your head falls back against the exam chair and your eyes burn with tears.

You leave the office with a pamphlet on fetal growth restriction, potential causes and side-effects. It might not be that, she tells you, some babies are just smaller and that’s just fine. They just want to keep a close eye on you these last few weeks. Early delivery is a possibility.

You’re dialing the number out of pure instinct. Flowing tears, running to Mommy — there’s a natural link there. Some kind of hardwired impulse, probably. Chest heaving, blinking back searingly hot tears, you listen to it ring and ring. It’s just a Wednesday morning, maybe she’s at the office. It just keeps on ringing.

Bradley frowns as he listens to the busy dial tone, pulling back and checking his phone. You’d promised to call him when you got out of the appointment. He checks down at his watch. Maybe Jake got a couple of minutes to call you. He has to be back in class. He texts you that he’ll catch you at home and turns.

If his mind were clearer, he might have noticed the stare on him as he turned. The familiar blue eyes, blown wide open. Maverick pales at the sight of the boy at the end of the hallway. Familiar sandy brown curls, a brief look at Bradley’s face. The mustache he had been trying to grow when Mav saw him last has grown in now. Maverick swallows.

He hasn’t seen this kid in almost two years. Not a single phone call or text. He hadn’t even known where Bradley was living after he moved out of the house in Norfolk. And now he’s here, standing at the end of a hallway in a random Navy base that Mav wasn’t even supposed to be at this week. Dressed in his khakis, he’s a kind of familiar that makes Pete Mitchell’s stomach churn.

“Bradley?”

…

@chaoticweirdogeek @alanadetigy @itsmytimetoodream @oldnatgwenaccount @khaylin27 @bioodforbiood @luckyladycreator2 @mizzzpink @cherrycola27 @unordinare @shanimallina87 @marvel-f1-and-more @heli991113 @pauv-0414 @ghxst-heart @momc95 @asteria33 @lilyevanswhore @diamond-3 @galaxy-moon @jostyriggslover96 @forgiveliv @shawnsblue @little-wiseone @lovemesomevesey @alm334 @averyhotchner @diorrfairy @thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @littlemissobsessedwitholdermen @sunflowerziva @cassiemitchell @himbos-on-ice @bradshawseresinbabe @damrlovq @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @slutfordw

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw au #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #my future in you #top gun: maverick #top gun smut

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violet-harmon2011 · 1 month

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the evans ideal date

a/n: i know some of these are not totally canon - just let me live out my fantasies in peace lol

p.s. i love you all, thank you for reading!! pls lmk if any of these seem incorrect, i haven't revisted some seasons in a while. also please send me requests or just any evan peters related thoughts lol 🤗😚

all photos are from pinterest <3

evan peters

i have a feeling he would love going to the movies

or building a pillow fort and watching one in your living room

he has mentioned in an interview that he would watch anything just to eat buttered popcorn and candy and drink soda lol

if it were up to him, he’d prob pick a rom com but he’s also up for a good horror film every once in a while

if you went to the theater, he would definitely wanna sit in the back and make out

if you're at home, he would wanna cuddle and would let you lay your head on his chest until you eventually fall asleep together

tate langdon

i feel like he would wanna take a walk around the neighborhood after dark, you know, escape the house for a bit

he'd def wanna hold your hand

shares an earbud with you

listening to your shared playlist on your ipod

would give you his sweater if you got cold

would walk on the side closest to the road to protect you

kit walker

most days the he's too tired after work & you just wanna stay in

would wanna bake with you!!!

and would it turn into a steamy makeout sesh on the countertop? ...and potentially something more? 100%

but seriously, he just loves spending time with you after a long day at work

cooking with you, holding you, kissing you, cuddling you

when he's able to save up to take you somewhere special, he'll ask you out to the movies or a nice restaurant or even the county fair

overall just a lovesick puppy who is head over heels for you

kyle spencer

would want you with him at any parties he has to attend

but would much rather prefer spending time alone with you

would wanna take the bus out of town to escape for a little while

loooves picnic dates with you

would get the maid's help to make a bunch of food to bring

could relax under a tree with you for hours

jimmy darling

would take you to a diner in town

would wear gloves and try to pretend he was normal for you

but you would take none of that, holding his hands with nothing but a proud smile on your face

he would definitely feel 100x more confident after that

your reward would be waiting for you in his trailer that night ;)

james patrick march

would settle for having a nice dinner with you in his room and taking you to bed afterward

but would also be open to doing wtv you want

would ask you if you wanna get a drink at the hotel bar or have dinner at a nice restaurant if you’re tired of the hotel

kai anderson

going out with kai is a rare occasion

most of the time, you’re lucky if he lets you sit in his lap while he’s doing cult work late at night

but every once in a while (especially on nights he wants to try for his messiah baby) he’ll ask you out

god forbid you make a big deal about it or even tell anyone other than winter

“get changed, i’m taking you out in five”

is really the kai equivalent of “do you wanna go out tonight, my gorgeous princess?”

peter maximoff

shows up to your house, hiding behind a bouquet he picked for you

would wanna go to an arcade

beats you at every game

then he feels bad so he wins you a teddy from the claw machine that is absolutely impossible to win at

would take you out to eat after

nothin fancy probably just a diner or somewhere cozy

he cannot afford it but you don’t need to know that

would split a milkshake with you <3

afterwards, he has the zoomies so he gives you superfast piggyback rides

made you matching goggles in your fav color for protection :)

would wanna run around target at 1am pushing each other in shopping carts until you’re both kicked out lol

makes you playlists and loves sharing his music with you

warren lipka

would wanna drive around, get drunk, do it over again

no but seriously, he'd just be content driving nowhere, windows down, screaming some song that makes him feel "alive"

would take you to the gas station or some cheap diner

would love taking random road trips together & finding adventure

alex (adult world)

would love to take you to a museum if you're down

if you're a writer, he would come to poetry readings & book signings with you

loves going to the art store/bookstore

would also be down to just rent a film from adult world & chill at home if yk what i mean 😉

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feelmyskinonyourskin · 10 months

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A Hell's Kitchen Christmas [Hallmark Trope]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Hallmark Special tv movie trope 1. Busy career woman in big city reluctantly returns to hometown for problem™. Handsome man in town who she initially clashes with wins her over and they fall in love. She stays in hometown. It is also Christmas. "You return to Hell's Kitchen to help your estranged dad in a legal battle over his hardware store. You’re a hot-shot Miami lawyer after all, how hard could it be? Except the charming, handsome local lawyer named Matt Murdock your dad hired to help him keeps getting in your way. And yes, it is Christmas. Because this is a Hallmark Movie."

Warnings: No use of Y/N. No pronouns are used for reader, so any gender applies! Catholic/Religious mass mentioned/attended by reader, reader’s mom is dead, Christmas, Fluff on top of fluff.

WC: 1500

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

The footsteps of parishioners thumped softly against the carpeted aisle of Clinton Church, nearly drowned out by the blaring of the organ as it played them out while they all exited. Christmas Eve Midnight Mass had just ended. Typically always over-crowded with those Sister Maggie called “Christers” (those who only attend church on Christmas and Easter), the many people walked past where Matt sat in a pew towards the back, chatting about what excitement tomorrow brought them (technically today, as it was nearly 1AM on Christmas Morning).

Matt remained in his seat, listening to the crowd depart, until there was just one other person in the chapel with him.

He noticed you as soon as he sat down before the service. Despite the many unfamiliar heartbeats in the crowd tonight, he picked yours out right away. Your citrus-scented perfume confirmed your presence when its pleasant smell reached him.

You were alone, which Matt found odd. Not joined by your father for the holiday celebrations as he expected you to be.

He heard you finally stand from your spot and walk up to the altar just as the last of the crowd left. The lighter trembled in between your fingers as you picked up a tea light and lit it, placing it amongst the many flaming symbols of other people's prayers.

“Shit God, I know I don’t pray a lot… or at all really.”

Matt listened as you spoke, chuckling to himself. You clearly hadn’t noticed him there.

“Look, it’s just my dad… the hardware store has been his whole life since mom died and please, you just can’t take that away from him. I know me leaving didn’t help, I know. I’m still living with that guilt, believe me.” you continued to pray, sniffling and wiping away a tear from your eye

“But this pro-bono guy he’s got. I don’t think it’s gonna be enough. I guess what I’m asking is please just let him open his heart enough for me to help. Or at least for this Murdock schmuck to get it together enough and actually save my dad’s store. You know, like a nice Christmas miracle? Um… thanks God.”

You crossed yourself and bowed to the altar, turning to leave.

Matt could tell you spotted him from the gasp that left your mouth and the way your heart skipped a beat.

“Matt. Hey. Um… Merry Christmas.” you said, still trying not to cry as you walked over to him

“Hey. Merry Christmas to you too. Where’s your dad?”

“Oh, he had a long day today. You know him, he never stops working. I told him to stay home and rest. Can I walk you home?”

“Oh you don’t have to…”

“Come on Matt, it’s late and it’s Christmas. It’s only a few blocks anyway. Let me walk you home.”

Matt nodded and took your arm as you led him out of the church and into the cold New York night. The snowflakes danced around as the two of you walked, arm in arm. Crunching footsteps made a path through the white-covered sidewalk and left evidence of the route to Matt’s apartment you took.

“Did you not bring a warmer coat? I can hear you shivering.” Matt exclaimed

“I didn’t. I never come home for Christmas, but with everything going on with my dad, I booked the trip so last minute and a winter coat isn’t exactly something I need in Miami.” you replied, tugging at the sleeves of your thin jacket

“May I?” Matt offered, releasing your arm for a moment to shrug off his wool pea coat.

Gloved hands ghosted your neck as he situated the garment around your shoulders. It was snuggly and warm and reminded you of Matt in a way you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Thank you Matt. Not just for the coat, but for everything. You’re really helping my dad out.” you said, letting him take your arm once more and resuming your journey

“Oh yeah? You sure I’m not just some schmuck he hired?”

“Shit. You heard that? I didn’t mean it.” you shook your head and Matt just chuckled

“You really are a good lawyer.” you continued “Everything you’ve proposed we try and all the research you’ve done… I know I’ve been really hard on you since I got here and I’m sorry. I’m a big deal at my firm in Miami and I’ve worked really hard to get to where I am. And my dad is about to get evicted and he doesn’t even call his own kid to help? I know I’m in corporate finance law and I’m not licensed in New York but still… He didn’t tell me this was happening for months and he hired you and I was hurt.”

“So why’d you come back to New York then? If you think I’m a good enough lawyer to help your dad out that is?” Matt asked

“I didn’t think that at first. Didn’t think a small pro-bono firm could take on the big developer trying to tear down the whole block. But now that I’ve been working with you on this, well I was wrong. And maybe I came back too because I missed him and I missed home.”

“Yeah?”

The streets of Hell’s Kitchen were practically empty at this hour, families all tucked away in their homes waiting for the excitement of Christmas morning. It was tranquil, seeing the city that never sleeps so quiet and calm. The electric buzz that New York always seems to have was still there, but dimmed.

“After my mom died, we just grew apart. He threw himself into work and I threw myself into school and my career. I think he was bitter that I moved away, that I didn’t want to take over the store from him.”

“Well you shouldn’t feel bad about going on your own path.” Matt reassured

“Yeah but it was the way I did it. But now that I’ve been back, god it’s like we used to be. Close you know?”

“Yeah I was really close with my dad too. And I’d give anything to have him back. To have what you and your dad have.”

“Shit you’re right. I guess that really puts it in perspective.” you replied

The purple and gold light of the video billboard on Matt’s block reflected off the snowflakes like a disco ball. A festive touch considering what day it was. You stopped your journey just outside his front door, facing him to observe the way he licked his lips as he formulated his next thought.

“I think he just wants what’s best for you.”

“I know that. It’s a shame it took me this long to figure out what’s actually best for me.” you replied

“Oh yeah? You figured that out just in the 10 days you’ve been home? Wow counselor, research and evidence gathering stage usually takes longer.”

“Very funny Murdock. Yeah actually, I have.” you replied

“And what did you figure out?”

“Matt, the work that you do, seeing it in action and how it’s helped my dad, it really inspired me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I think I want to shift my legal specialty. Find a firm to work for that takes on clients like yours and actually helps people. And Matt, I don’t know that I would have discovered that if it weren’t for you.”

A wide smile spread across Matt’s face as he lowered and shook his head.

“Well, I might know of just the firm that could use a lawyer as smart as you. You’d have to stay in Hell’s Kitchen though, or at the very least New York…”

“Matt, are you offering me a job?” you asked

“Well I mean you’d have to pass the bar in New York first, but yeah, actually I am.”

“What are you doing tomorrow– or today I guess technically?” you asked

“For Christmas? I don’t really have plans. I used to go to dinner at Foggy’s family, but his parents became snowbirds a few years ago, so now all the Nelsons travel to Florida for the holidays. Why?”

“My dad is cooking a fabulous meal and we’d love to have you join us. To thank you for all you’ve done. For both of us.”

“I don’t want to impose on your first Christmas in years with your dad.” Matt replied

“Oh c’mon Matt, you have to come! You’re practically family at this point; you’re saving my dad’s business, you’re repairing our relationship, you’re offering me a job.”

“Okay, okay. I will come.” he conceded

“Great! We can tell my dad I’m moving back to New York. Together.”

“Does that mean you’re saying yes? To my offer?”

“Yes Matt, I am saying yes. To working for you. And staying in New York.”

Reaching out with a trembling hand in the cold night air, you ran your thumb along his jaw. Matt let out a chuckle as you reveled in the way his stubble felt against your freezing fingers. A sigh escaped you into his plush, soft lips when he finally kissed you, warming you instantly from the chill.

“Merry Christmas, Matt.”

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.”

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #charlie cox #nmcu #trope de sept #hallmark #christmas fic #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x male reader #matt murdock x gn!reader #daredevil imagine #fluff #nmcu fic #mcu fic #daredevil fic #matt murdock x you #marvel daredevil

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red-jaebyrd · 1 year

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Company For The Lonely

Summary: Dick could kick his own ass for not remembering what this particular day did to Jason every year.

Notes: This fic started off as a small ficlet in response to this art prompt "Lonely" by doc-anders.

I figured today was the perfect day to reblog this old fic of mine.

It was late and all Dick wanted to do right now was sleep. It had been a particularly busy week patrolling at night and even busier days at work. Every muscle in his body was screaming for rest and a reprieve. He was headed to his bedroom when he thought he heard a faint knock on his door.

He paused in the hallway to listen for another knock. Faintly, there was a second round of rapping on his door accompanied by shuffling feet. Dick racked his brain trying to figure out who would be showing up at his apartment this late at night. Looking into the peephole Dick was caught off guard at who he saw standing at his door. It was Jason. He quickly opened the door.

“Jase! You’re in the Blud. You didn’t call.”

“Yeah, I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d return your Walkman…” Jason mumbled.

“You’re here at 1am to return the Walkman you stole ten years ago…” Dick joked, but his smile faded as he took in the state of Jason standing in front of him. Jason wasn’t looking at him. There were bags under his eye and they were slowly filling with tears. “Jay, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing…it’s just…” Jason choked out. “…I’m just,”

And before Dick knew it, Jason launched himself at Dick wrapping both arms around him in a hug. “Can I stay here for a while?”

Dick quickly snapped out of his stupor and returned the hug. “You know you can.”

It was the hug from Jay that had startled Dick the most. The sudden embrace and request was more jarring than actually seeing Jason standing outside his apartment at one in the morning. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence to have Jason at his place at this hour, though he usually came through the window, dressed in his uniform, and coming from patrol. Not showing up at his door with a backpack and wearing civvies.

He could feel a measure of tension release from Jason as his grip got tighter. Something had deeply shaken his brother and it was starting to scare Dick. Hugs weren’t something Jason easily gave out to anyone. Jason was more likely to gift him the most expensive pair of Nikes rather than give Dick a hug. Dick knew this first hand.

To say Jay wasn’t big on hugs wasn’t an exaggeration, but he made an exception for Dick. He typically avoided most physical contact but would at rare times seek out Dick for an awkward one armed hug. Dick respected his space, but sometimes it was hard to refrain from putting his arm around his little brother to fulfil his need for physical touch. Jason never shrugged off the arm, though at times Dick could feel a slight tension in his shoulders and took that as his cue to let go.

When Jay had been younger he would seek out hugs from Dick and even Bruce, but once he had come back from The Pit, something in him had changed. The need for touch had vanished and Dick had missed the hugs from his little brother. Still there were times that if Dick asked for a hug, Jason would oblige.

Tonight was different. Jason held on to Dick like a lifeline. Clasping onto him as if he would fall apart if he let go. Something must be horribly wrong for Jason to be so needing of contact and company.

“Jase…Jay talk to me, please?” Dick implored, rubbing soothing circles on Jason’s back.

Jason shook his head. “It’s…its stupid. I shouldn’t have…”

“It’s not stupid. Tell me.”

Jason broke the embrace not answering the question. His eyes were wet and red rimmed. “Not right now, but I’ll tell you later.”

Dick nodded his head, “Okay.” He stepped aside gesturing Jason into the apartment.

Dick wasn’t so sure Jason would tell him what was wrong, but he didn’t want to press the issue, or come on too strong. Jason was known for holding all his crap inside until he burst. The casualties of his anger were always the criminals he encountered on patrol. While Jason encouraged his brothers to tell him their shit so they could get it out, Jason never burdened them with his troubles.

“Okay, Little Wing. I’ll get some fresh sheets and you can have the bed.”

“No, Dick I’ll take the couch,” Jason sniffed, using his sleeve to wipe his eyes. “The couch is fine.”

“Decision is made. You’re getting the bed, I’m getting the couch. C’mon.” Dick took Jason’s backpack from his arm and walked to his bedroom.

Once he got Jason settled with fresh sheets on his bed, he grabbed a blanket and his pillow and made his way to the living room. Something kept niggling at the back of his brain. Something he was forgetting kept itching, forcing him to remember. Dick walked over to the peg board in his kitchen and glanced at the calendar. He looked at the date and blanched…April 27th.

Shit!

It was April 27th.

The day everything had changed for Jason.

The day that his brother had been tortured and horrifically taken from him and Bruce.

A day that Jason shouldn’t have to remember, yet he knew Jason remembered every detail of that day in the warehouse. From the impact of every hit of the crowbar to the smell of the Joker’s breath on his face taunting his death.

No wonder Jason showed up at his apartment in his current state. It all made sense now. He didn’t want to be alone, not on this day. Dick could kick his own ass for not remembering what this particular day did to Jason every year. He should have known to look out for the date, but instead he allowed himself to get bogged down with work and cases leaving Jason to fend for himself.

Shit.

Every year around this time he and Jason made plans to get away from the city. They’d take the Range Rover from Bruce’s garage and drive to the country to go camping and just hang out away from the chaos and trauma of that terrible day.

Each year Jason revealed to Dick a new detail about the day he had died. It had been unnerving for Dick to hear at first, but he knew that Jason had needed the opportunity to purge the ugliness from his mind. Allowing that darkness to fester inside his little brother wasn’t an option, not when Dick could be that secure presence and nonjudgmental ear Jason had needed to heal.

Dick never knew what exact words of comfort Jason had wanted to hear during all those times he had divulged a new fact about the warehouse. If he were honest with himself, there were no words to tell Jason to have made him feel better. Instead Dick had done what he felt was the right thing to do. He had kept his mouth shut giving Jason his full attention as he listened to Jason talk without interruption. Dick had desperately tried to school his features but never really succeeded as silent tears were shed with every word from Jason’s mouth. Once Jason had also started crying, story time was over and it was Dick’s turn to pick up the broken pieces with a hug. These camping trips had been the only time Jason’s true vulnerability had shown up.

It had been the first one of these trips that Jason had opened up to him that on this particular day he had hated being alone. Dick had always thought of Jason as a solitary creature and he had been right. However, when it had come to the anniversary of his death, Jason hated being by himself.

He had been alone when the Joker had beaten him up in that warehouse.

He had been alone waiting for Bruce to find him.

He had been alone when the bomb had finally gone off and killed him.

Dick needed to do something now and fast. He patted softly to the bedroom and knocked lightly.

“Jase…I know you’re awake.”

Dick opened the door and sat on the bed.

“I…I know what day it is. I’m sorry I didn’t plan our weekend better. We can still sneak over to the Manor and take the Rover to the mountains. Or we can hang out here, watch movies, and order take out. It’s your choice.”

Jason sat up slowly and turned around to face Dick. He looked so tired and lost, but relieved that Dick had finally figured it out. The sadness in his brother’s eyes was still there and it hurt Dick’s heart. He gently placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder. Jason wrapped his arms around him for another hug.

“I’m so sorry Jay, I screwed up.”

“Not your fault,” Jason said, breaking the embrace. “We’ve all been pretty busy. You look like shit too by the way.”

“Thanks,” Dick laughed.

Jason shifted the blankets off of him and swung his legs off the bed. “I’ll go with you to get the Rover. Maybe we can raid the kitchen while we’re there.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

There was still one more question Dick had to ask Jason.

“Did you happen to bring my Walkman?”

“Dude, I lost that thing like 10 years ago. It’s long gone.”

“Just as well,” Dick shrugged. “I lost your iPod.”

Jason laughed and threw a pillow at him.

#jason todd #dick grayson #death day fic #protective dick grayson #jason needs a hug #good bro dick grayson #batfamily feels #batbros #death day anniversary #hurt/comfort #batman #batfic #my fics #dick and jason being the brothers I want to read

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absurdthirst · 2 years

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Kinktober 2022: October 18th

Day 18: Pegging // Tit Fucking // Hair Pulling

Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Sex toys, anal sex, pegging, begging, slight power dynamic

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Which one?” Dieter holds up two different harnesses for you to pick out. “This one lets you have a toy too.” He shoots you a grin. “Double the pleasure, right?”

This man is eager, bouncing on his toes as he waits for your answer. You know he’s probably on something, he’s always on something. This is Dieter that you are talking about. You snort and look around the store that he had immediately dragged you to, unconcerned with anyone seeing him in the toy section for strap ons at 1AM.

How you got here, you don’t really know. Okay you do, but it’s enough to make you shake your head in wonder.

It’s no surprise that Dieter is…horny. He will fuck anyone who will let him between their thighs. You’ve witness his attempts to get people to sleep with him, and you had known it would eventually come around to you.

You know he finds you attractive, he’s made comments - although he does try to keep them respectful-ish. He hadn’t asked before now because you had put your food down firmly when you had first started working with him. So much that he had thought for a long time that you did not like him.

Until tonight. Until he had crossed that line like a bull in a china shop and asked the question that had brought about this scenario. “Would you every let me fuck you in the ass?”

You had laughed, thinking it was joking but his brow furrowed as if he didn’t know what you had found funny. He hadn’t been joking, he really wanted to have sex with you. So your response was pithy, almost snarky because you were sure that the conversation would die right then and there. “Only if you let me peg you first.”

****

“Come on babe, which one?” He turns his wrist and looks at one of the boxes. “I like this one, it can hold all sorts of toys and it’s gonna look sexy on you.” He sends you a wink and rattles the box in your face. “What do you think?”

“Um…” You bite your lip and tap one of the boxes. “That one.”

“Great!” Dieter tosses the other one down and you huff, scooping it off the ground so you can put it back on the display where it goes. “Now let's go pick out your dick!”

Your snorted laugh is quickly smothered by a hand so you don’t disturb the bored looking clerk as they flick through whatever dirty magazine he was reading when the two of you walked in here. Hell, he had barely acknowledged your presence here, which was good for Dieter. The last thing he needed was someone reporting that he was buying a fucking strap on.

It makes you curious as you follow him, watching as he examines multiple dildos of various lengths and girths. Taking this as seriously as you’ve seen him take anything really. He picks on up and weighs it in his hand, running his fingers along the veins that are molded into the silicone.

“What do you think about this one?” He asks, holding it up and to you, it seems like it’s an impressive size but what do you know? “Think you’ll like wearing it?”

“I mean, I think what you think about it is more important.” You admit, giving a slight shrug of your shoulders. “You’ll be the one taking it.”

“Oh yeah.” He gives a small smile and looks down at it again. “Eh, I think something like this will be okay. It’s about my size.”

You cough discreetly and try not to think about that too much as you continue to go through the store to pick up everything you need to make this happen.

****

“Have you done this before?” You have to give it to Dieter, his hands are very respectful as he helps you into the harness and adjusts the straps to make sure the fit is right and it doesn’t rub wrong or move too much.

He looks up for a second and flashes you a grin and a wink that is far too charming to be attached to a man who dresses like a crazy cat lady. “Not that people know about.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Apparently Dieter Bravo can’t possibly be a bottom.”

When you are wearing the strap and ready, Dieter starts to get undressed. He’s teasing and playful with it. Pulling his baggy shirt off and throwing it at you like he’s a Chipendale dancer and gyrating his hips in a way that shouldn’t be sexy,

Pants come next, then finally a pair of boxers that look like they are a million years old. Making you grin when you see a hole in the crotch. That doesn’t surprise you about Dieter in the least.

He’s eager, grinning at you and sending you a wink as he lays down on the bed and spreads his legs. He’s already hard and his cock is curled up towards his stomach beautifully. “Someone’s excited.” You tease, making him chuckle and give a small, cute little shrug as he pulls his legs back. Giving you a first hand view of a surprisingly hair free hole.

“It’s been awhile and fuck - you look good with a dick.” You can’t help but give a little laugh and gyrate your hips, sending the toy into a slight helicopter swing which makes him roll his eyes and squirm in anticipation. “Hurry up.” He whines, impatient already.

You make sure that you are safe about this. Nervous and yet you are practically dripping with arousal right now. Learning something about yourself as you slather up the dildo with lube - you are turned on by the idea of fucking Dieter.

Maybe it’s the fact that you are fucking a celebrity. Maybe it’s because he’s a pain in your ass a lot of the time and this is kind of a power trip - or payback. But it’s the way your pussy clenches and throbs when he is squirming below you, your fingers buried in his tight little hole that has you thinking that pegging is something you will enjoy.

The first inch he makes the most glorious sounds. Needy and almost pained, making you check in with him by caressing his hip. Dieter shakes his head, eyes closed and breathless. “D-don’t stop.” He begs, and it’s probably the most wonderful order he’s ever given you.

You don’t. Rocking your hips, you work your way deeper, breaking him open so beautifully on the dick you so desperately wish were yours so you can feel how his tight little ring of muscles squeeze you. The utter filth of his moans convincing you that he is enjoying this far more than you had ever imagined and the red tip of his cock is nearly purple from want and need, leaking against his belly.

The toy that you had bought for yourself grinds against your clit every time you thrust your hips, making your own breath catch when it presses just right. Your sounds muted and puffed out as your thighs start to burn, but still you chase those sounds, those faces he makes every time you slide deep.

“Oh fuck.” Dieter moans, his hands gripping your thighs and he tugs you closer if he feels like your rhythm is faltering. “Of fuck baby- look at you fucking me. It’s-It’s so g-good.”

Shit. You can’t even help but be proud of yourself. Watching his hips start to roll down and start matching your thrusts. Fucking himself harder onto the toy as he babbles.

“Can-can’t wait to - oh fuck - wait to fuck you. You- you’re going to -to be so ti-tight.” Blunt nails start to dig into your skin, pinching slightly but it just makes you grin. You didn’t miss the way his eyes rolled back when you gave a particularly harsh thrust and hit something that had his thighs squeezing around you.

“Later.” You manage, biting your lip while continuing to grind into him with short, quick thrusts. Leaning over and bracing your arms while you wonder how the fuck guys continuious do this. No wonder they pause right when you are about to cum. You won’t complain next time. “F-first I want to- to see you cum.”

He whines, nodding eagerly and you watch as his hand - that fucking large, gorgeous hand - wraps around his cock in a fist and starts to pump his twitching dick to the same rhythm that you are filling him.

He looks fucked out. Hair mussed and sweaty, eyes glazed over - you swear he’s drooling a little while your hips slap against the back of his thighs - every thrust pushing a tiny sound of him. A moan, a whine, a whimper - all of them sounding like a fucking filthy symphony of pleasure.

When he starts to beg, it’s beautiful. His hips rocking up, fucking his fist and taking the cock you are wearing so deep and still begging for more. Lost in a haze of lust and greedy pleasure. “More, more - oh fuck, please, please, please…..” His eyes are pitch black and burning with desperation.

Biting your lip, you widen your spread thighs, changing the angle and pushing his legs up onto your shoulders. Spreading him out wider and drilling down into him in a last ditch effort to rip this man apart at the seams.

You cum because he does. Your throbbing clit on fire and as soon as Dieter nearly wails your name, body stiffening and heaving, you cum. Nearly missing the show from the black out pleasure licking through your body. Almost closing your eyes before you see the white hot spurts of cum shoot from his cock like a gyser to paint his chest, his face contorted in a nearly painful visage while he seemingly cums for hours even though it’s only a few moments.

His groan is nearly inaudible as he slumps down onto the bed, spent and shaking with the toy still buried inside him. “Oh fuck.” He moans, making you grin tiredly. “We- we’re doing that again.” He manages breathlessly, cracking one eye open and humming while he floats on the endorphins that are flooding his system.

Yes, the fuck you were. You will let him fuck you ass anytime as long as you can peg him first.

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #pedro pascal #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo imagine #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo the bubble

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greazyfloz · 1 year

Note

I need some Jack Hughes angst please

Toxic

Angst: 21. “When did we become so toxic?” & 10. “xxx and we are done”

-Sad Ending-

Jack and I just left the honeymoon period. We have been going in circles following this non-stop loop, We fight, we break up, one of us apologizes (typically sex driven apologies), we come back, he are happy, then we fight and the circle goes on and on. I don’t know what changed but we went from glued to the hip to wanted almost nothing to do with eachother. There isn’t one thing in particular we fight about, but when one of us is slightly annoyed with one another, it’s known. At first, we were good at keeping it pretty private when we fought, but Jack has been more comfortable with fighting in front of friends and his family.

Tonight Jack and I made plans to stay in and have a movie night since he is getting back from a road trip. I cleaned the apartment and search through Pinterest to find something nice to cook supper waiting for him to arrive. He said earlier he would be home right before supper, and it is getting close to the time we usually eat so I picked a random recipe that ended up being quite fancy.

Jack doesn’t come home for supper and I called and texted him about 5 times because I was starting to get worried. I heard nothing. I didn’t put the supper away i just threw it out before getting ready for bed.

Around 1am I hear the front door open and close waking me up. I hear Jack open the fridge and search around before grabbing a beer. I could tell he was drunk by how loud his feet fit the floor as he made his way around the kitchen. He comes into the room slamming the door behind him making me jump. I sit up in bed and look at him. “You moving or something” Jack says holding my laptop in his hands

“What are you talking about Jack?” I say tired of this.

“Stop acting stupid Y/n” He says throwing my laptop towards me. I lands beside me then starts to slowly slip off the bed

“Jesus Christ Jack! Be careful!” I say catching my laptop before falling off, “I can’t just go out and buy a new one!” I say as Jack opens my laptop setting it on my lap. The tab that is open was a Zillow page of 1 bedroom apartments in outside of New York.

“Why are you saving up?” he says. “When you going?, HUH?! When you leaving Y/n” he continues getting louder

“Do not yell at me. Not tonight!” I say back, “I haven’t even been on my laptop in two weeks. Remember two weeks ago? The last time you were a total jackass!” I say in defense starting to raise my voice. Jack shakes his head and lets out a dark almost mean chuckle

“You’re going to blame me?” he says, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Yes Jack, I am going to blame you!” I say, usually by now I would start crying but I am way too fired up. “What happened to our night in tonight? I was here, where were you?”

“Oh come on, you are starting this with me right now because I went out with my friends instead of babysitting my girlfriend?” he says, “Fine, leave! I don’t care!” he says throwing his hands in the air walking out of the room.

Without saying a word I grabbed a bag and start to grab things stuffing as much as I can. I make my way down the hall and head towards the front door. As I am putting on my jacket, Jack looks back at me and says “Holy fuck! You are actually leaving instead of trying to work this out? Wow!” he says standing up “Wow Y/n. Grow the fuck up!” I look at him from across the room with no expression on my face. I grab my car keys from the hook on the side and open the door. “Step out that door and we are done” Jack warns. I look at him shaking my head before leaving slamming the door behind me.

I make my way down to my car, and almost automatically cry as I am sitting there staring inside the parking garage. When I finally cleared my eyes I went down the street to the closest hotel since it was too late to bother any of my friends. In the morning I woke up and went back to the apartment to get more of my stuff. I strategically waited until Jack’s morning skate before going up.

I enter the apartment and and see Jack in the kitchen, “Hey babe” he says sadly wrapping me in his arms but I don’t hug him back. “I’m sorry about last night” he says through his lips pressed in my hair. When he lets go he looks at me confused. “What’s wrong?” he questions. I wanted to scream are you freaking stupid, but this is apart of that never ending cycle.

“I thought you were at morning skate” I start avoiding his eyes, “I’m coming to get some more of my stuff” I continued with tears threatening to fall.

“No no no no. Y/n it was a little fight. I apologized, and I won't forget again” he says knowing I am serious.

“I can’t do this anymore” I say quietly pushing past him and entering the bedroom. He follows behind me. I pack a couple bags and Jack quietly watches. I avoid looking at him while trying to gather my things until I start to pile some stuff at the door. When I look over at Jack sitting on the bed he is looking at me with tears falling down his face. I drop my bags and sit beside him on the bed. I wrap my arms around him and he covers his face in my chest letting the tears fall. I rest my chin softly on his head before saying “When did we become so toxic?”, Jack lifts his head and looks at me. I do everything not to give in. I have never seen Jack so hurt. He clears his throat and looks at me.

“What can I do?” He says, “Please Y/n, please, tell me how I can make this better” he says sniffling. I stand and look down at him tears now filling my eyes.

“We just need a little time apart” I say before picking up some of my bags and leaving.

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine

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evans-heaven · 2 years

Text

Close ; Joseph Quinn

Pt 2 of Scene, girlies. I'm too tired to write a quirky intro so we'll just get right into it.

Pairing: Joseph Quinn x Fem!Actress!Reader

Warnings: Unedited content, language, in depth talk of anxiety so please be cautious, a little angst, a little fluff, mention of Eddie's death, also y'all I'll be honest i don't like this very much but maybe you will 😅

Wc: 3.5k

Read Scene here

It was around 1AM, and you and Joe were in his rented car driving back to your apartment complex. You’d been staying there since filming began, like a lot of other cast members. Though you and Joe had separate apartments, many a night came about where you crashed at each others’ places, whether accidentally falling asleep during a hangout session or on purpose when you wanted company and everyone else was on set late. Tonight may not have been one of those nights, though. You were emotionally and physically exhausted, and could tell Joe was as well. You practically drooled at the thought of curling up in your own bed, the one you’d gotten used to in your home away from home.

The ride was pretty quiet, aside from the odd yawn from one of you here and there. The car faintly smelled of takeout, which you two ate about a half hour prior in the parking lot of a 24 hour Chinese restaurant, starving and not being able to wait until you got home. Of course a full stomach ended up making you even more tired, so you weren’t surprised when you began nodding off a bit.

It wasn’t until Joe caught you by surprise with a question that you found yourself fully awake as you stared at him, eyes widened.

“So, are you ready to tell me why you were so worried about today?”

He spoke casually, like it was a throwaway question, he’d ask anyone else, but since there wasn’t anyone else in the car, you knew he was talking to you.

“What do you mean?” you were nonchalant, asking in the same tone he did. If you acted unbothered, it wouldn’t seem that deep, right?

Unfortunately, he didn’t buy it. “Y/N, we know each other better than we know ourselves. I can tell today was about so much more than you’re letting on,” he said. “It kills me when I can tell something is bothering you and I don’t know what,”

Your heart rate increased, partly because of the conversation that was about to happen, and partly because of how much Joe cared for you. Even though you weren’t new to the concept of people caring about you and your feelings, it still blew your mind just how much this man you had only known for just under 2 years cared for you. He had one of the biggest hearts that had ever been bared to you and his ability for love and compassion could be damn near enviable. It was like this friendship had been going strong for decades, simply because of the closeness developed between the two of you. You knew it, the crew knew it, and the cast especially knew it (and reminded you of it daily).

Still, talking about your feelings was fucking hard, especially face to face. You almost wanted to suggest he shoot you a text message asking what as wrong so you could write a damn book as a reply. You’d always been better at writing what you felt than saying it out loud.

But this wasn’t virtual, it was real life. He was asking, and he was waiting for an answer. You had one, but the trouble would be getting it out to begin with.

“To be honest with you,” you started. “Even I didn’t understand at first what had me so worked up about it,” you admitted. And it was true. Like most of your anxiety induced tyrants, initially you couldn’t figure out why your nerves to film that day seemed stronger than they probably should have been. In the week leading up to it, the feelings seemed to grow, and so did your frustration with yourself because you just couldn’t figure out why the nerves were there and why they were so relentless.

Anxiety really grabbed you by the boobs and made your life hell sometimes.

You were so over it consuming you, until realization dawned on you the morning of shooting. It finally came to you, as you and Joe hugged before he had to go off and shoot some scenes that didn’t have you in them, why filming that scene in particular would be so hard and why it was affecting you as much as it did.

“But now, I do understand,” you said to him. You felt your emotions rise on your throat again, and you shoved them back to wherever they came from. This was going to be hard. “And maybe….my nerves didn’t have much to do with Eddie’s death at all,” you began.

“Ouch,” Joe said, smirking at you.

“Even though,” you stressed, holding up a hand, ignoring his fake offense. "I love Eddie, and a lot of those tears I shed were real. No one wants to see their pretend boyfriend die, or see their best friend who plays their pretend boyfriend, pretend to die," you said, looking off to the side, wondering if that made sense.

However, Joe agreed. "True," he said, nodding, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him.

"But....I think the real reason it affected me today the way it did is because of what it might mean," You said. Okay, good start.

Coming up to the stoplight just before your destination, he turned to you with his brows furrowed. "What will it mean?" he asked, his voice soft and patient.

Christ. "Well, I hate to be blunt, but this is essentially the end of Eddie and Stacey, as we know it. I mean, Stacey's leaving Hawkins, but the Duffers told me upfront I'd be back for season 5. But what about Eddie? Is he coming back, is his death permanent, who knows? I just...can't help but worry,"

"You've got a point, sadly," he admitted, looking a bit somber. "But what's there to worry about?" he pressed.

You made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a sigh, wishing Joe could just read your mind and know everything you wanted to say. You sat up straight in your seat and placed your palms on your thighs. "Like, okay, these past two years have been the best of my life, and a decent chunk of that is thanks to you. Seeing you everyday, and being close to you, is something I've gotten used to, it's one of my favorite things,"

He smiled at you, the warmest look in his gorgeous brown eyes. "It's one of my favorite things too, love," he said, pulling your hand from your lap and threading his fingers through yours.

The red light changed to green, and as he drove forward, you squeezed his hand. "I just need to know, will we....will we always be like this?" you asked him, finally done beating around the bush. It almost felt like him taking your hand gave you a boost of confidence you’d been lacking.

After your question, a sudden silence fell upon the moment. It was very much unlike the comfortable silence that normally would, like earlier in the car, or when you had movie night, or walked to the deli near your apartment building for lunch on a day off. This was awkward, almost eerie, as eerie as a rented Honda could feel.

You thought it was a pretty easy question, but he clearly needed to ponder it. You simply waited for a response. Words, a sigh, a shrug, anything. Your face was calm, but it concealed a mind worried about what he'd say next.

Just then, the quietness was shattered by his illegally adorable laugh filling the vehicle. His shoulders shook with it as he kept his eyes ahead. A blush coated his cheeks, illuminated by the passing streetlights.

Definitely not a reaction you were expecting.

You just looked at him, a confused look in your eyes and an uneasy smile on your face, any confidence you found in yourself now dwindling. You wouldn't be surprised if your face mirrored that one meme where a character from The Simpsons says "I'm in danger". You let out nervous chuckles that were drowned out by his loud laughter. What is happening right now?

He took a moment to catch his breath, his laugh dying down but a smile remaining on his face. He shook his head. "Are you trying to get rid of me, Y/N?" He asked, looking at you, and it was clear the question made him want to burst out laughing again.

You became wide-eyed. "No? No, that's not what I meant, I-"

"Do you really think I'd let this affect us?" He asked, cutting you off gently.

Oh. Your face relaxed and became heated.

"I would never let one of my favorite people out of my life just because we're not working together anymore," he said.

You looked down to avoid his intense gaze, feeling somewhat ashamed. It was because of his wording, you feared he was a little offended by the implication you made, even despite his prior bout of laughter. You almost totally ignored when he said you were one of his favorite people. At any other moment, your heart would have done a little ‘!’ at that statement, but right now, you were tense.

He noticed, because of course he did, and mumbled “Hang on,” as he pulled into the underground parking lot of your building. He quickly drove into a spot and stopped the car, then turned to face you, as much as he could in a vehicle.

He brought his other hand up to grasp your chin and tilt your head back up so you were face to face with him.

"What brought this on?" Joe asked as he stroked your chin lightly a couple of times.

You shrugged a shoulder, trying not to get side tracked by the soft, gentle movement against your skin. "I've just been thinking all day," you said. "Things are gonna be so different now. We won't see each other everyday, won't be in the same apartment building, you'll probably be off working on another project. I love that for you, but at the same, it sucks. You’re the one who helped me through my anxiety everyday, until everything was okay eventually, and now you’re one of my closest friends. The thought of losing that has just been eating at me lately,"

It wasn't that you weren't close with the other cast members-they'd become some of your closest friends. Just yesterday you'd had one of those wine mom-esque brunches with Maya and Natalia, and Millie and Sadie always came to you for big sister advice. The boys on set were something like annoying, yet loveable little brothers you loved to mess with just as much.

But your relationship with Joseph just had something special about it. You were naturally a very lowkey and shy person, and that often culminated in being nervous around new people and during new experiences, which was only made worse by you having anxiety. Stranger Things was your first acting role after you finally decided to listen to your gut, swallow your worries, and pursue your dream of being in Hollywood. Excited as you were for the role, being the new girl amongst a cast of people who had known each other for years was almost enough to make you back out. You didn’t expect some type of Mean Girls situation, of course, but you did expect to be just awkward and jumpy enough to make you feel like you were being a bother or alienated, which you probably wouldn’t have been. But, good ol’ anxiety had a way of making you panic about things before they even happened-if they happened at all.

And that brought you to what you had with Joe. With how strong and borderline intimate it-a perfectly platonic friendship- was, you'd feel it's absence when filming for season 5 began. You couldn't help the sad feeling that gave you. Joe was also the newest cast member who had a pretty substantial role as Eddie Munson, the ‘villain’ of the season, and your character Stacey’s boyfriend. Having to play a couple meant you guys already spent a lot of time together on set, but offset is where you really felt your closeness thrive. Joe made you feel calm, almost making you forget about how nervous you had initially been at the start of production. You loved having people like him in your life, people who made everything seem okay, even if for one moment, and every moment with Joe felt like that.

And when you eventually settled in well with the cast, but still found anxiety creeping up on you for various other reasons, he was always there with open arms whenever you both needed a hug. Or to lend a palm to place yours in or to draw absentmindedly on when you felt anxious. He would also tell you distracting stories, like failed auditions or awkward stories from his days as a theater kid. All these things aided in you being free around him, no sweaty palms or lurching stomachs in sight.

At some point, you realized it became about so much more than him helping with your anxiety. You just enjoyed each other’s company regardless of whether he was helping you stay calm or you were just hanging out together because you could. Always together, to the point where, if you walked into a room alone, people wondered where Joe was, and vice versa. You became those best friends that made others feel like third wheels (unintentionally, of course, and you felt bad whenever that happened). It was such a tender and close bond you two had, unlike any you ever felt before.

And it was because of that relationship you had grown so accustomed to, that you felt the anxiety begin to show its ass again. That it would all disappear, little by little, after Eddie died and Joe possibly wouldn’t return. The hustle and bustle of Hollywood was impossible to ignore, and you had no doubt he would get swept up into it-he was too damn talented not to.

But the change would be so palpable, considering he was the one who made you so comfortable to begin with. Would you go back to feeling like the meek new girl on the block? Even if you had your other cast members, something would still feel like it was missing. You hadn’t been candid with them the way you’d been with Joe, because you were so selective in who you opened up to. And you were beginning to regret doing that, feeling like it hindered your security with everyone else, making you think you weren’t as close as you could be. Maybe then, things would be okay.

You just had to latch on to Joe. Stupid, stupid, stu-

“I get you,” Joe said, pulling you from your thoughts. “I do, because it's been the same for me,” he dropped his hand from your chin and leaned it against the door handle.

You raised your brows. “Really?”

“Yep. C’mon, I was joining the cast of one of the biggest shows in the world. You heard me before we filmed the scene, I was so scared I would ruin the show,” he said. “Joining a show 4 seasons in felt like switching schools in the middle of the term, for lack of a better analogy. Everyone knew everyone, had their unbreakable bonds, well established in the industry simply because of the cast they were a part of. It was intimidating,”

Listening to Joe made you feel so seen and heard, every thought he just voiced was one you had in the beginning. Realistically speaking, anyone would have their own insecurities about joining a show, four seasons in, like he said. But clearly, he was damn good at hiding them.

“But what made it slightly less intimidating, was learning that I wouldn’t be alone. Learning that an outrageously talented and charismatic, not to mention beautiful, actress would be playing my girlfriend, and meeting her at that first ever table read, was enough to make every worry I had feel so irrational,” Joe turned to face you again, pressing his fingers into the back of your hand to punctuate his statement.

The smile that began to spread across your face was unstoppable, and you couldn’t even try to hide it. Your face became heated, not from embarrassment, but from holy shit what did you do to deserve this man?

He chuckled at the probably comical grin on your face as you remained speechless. “The last two years have been so fucking incredible to me because of you, Y/N. You made this experience," he said. “And that’s a type of influence I never, ever, want to lose,”

He was still squeezing your hand, not to the point of white knuckles, but where it made his words sink in even more than any words should.

His sincerity coated your heart, nerves, and entire body like a salve. You felt like you could explode from the amount of feelings you were experiencing right now. You loved how the smile on your face felt, because of what brought it. You never wanted to relax your face, and you never wanted Joe to stop talking.

“So with that being said,” he declared, then placed a look that very much read like the word ‘duh’ on his face, “Give me one good reason why I would ever let you go?”

It was your turn to laugh, as your already upturned lips opened to release a series of giggles. Maybe it was his tone, maybe his face, maybe you felt foolish and just couldn’t help but laugh about it.

Or maybe, you were just happy because every last fear you had about the relationship you built with Joe fizzling out just because you weren’t working together anymore (allegedly), had disappeared. He made them all vanish with his words, building back up that certainty in you, in him.

You had been so focused on your own side of the bond you two shared, you never even stopped to consider if he would ever allow it to die out, because it meant just as much to him, as it did to you. Every embrace, every inside joke, every movie night, every moment, held the same weight in both of you.

He was never letting you go, and you sure as hell weren’t going to let him go.

You also seriously envied him for his ability to get to the damn point, but that was another conversation.

“Okay, okay, maybe I was a clown for believing anything would change,” you admitted sheepishly.

“A huge clown, actually,” Joe corrected, leaning in closer with a look of faux seriousness on his face, taunting you.

You gasped and whacked him on the shoulder with your free hand, leading to the both of you exploding with laughter. The sound bounced off of the walls of the car, ringing in your ears to create a noise you never wanted to hear the end of. Your happiness mixed together as the previous angsty atmosphere of the car completely went away, and the weight on your shoulders lifted in its entirety.

After sharing that laugh for what felt like forever, it died down into sparse chuckles, but the energy was still there, even when you both became silent and simply stared into each other’s eyes.

You realized it turned into one of your ‘they’re doing it again’ moments. Moments where you’d fall into a comfortable silence, not needing any words as you simply read each other’s eyes. You and Joe had those a lot, and the cast loved to call you out on it. But with the view in his eyes, you never brought yourself to care.

“C’mere, you,” he muttered, ending the silence and releasing your hand to pull you into him gently by your shoulder. He wrapped you in his embrace, one arm around your shoulder, the other pressing your face into his warm chest. You dug your fingers into his plaid shirt covered back, the thrum of his heart in your ear feeling like a sweet song.

Never before had such a fast paced sound been so soothing.

“I just never want this to end, Joe,” you said, words muffled by his chest, but still loud and clear to him, as he tightened his hold on you.

‘It never will, babes, I promise you,” he vowed, and you knew he wasn’t lying.

Your embrace was longer than the laughter, longer than the silence. You could stay there until the sun came up, and even longer. His arms were becoming one of your favorite places on earth to be, a location you knew like the back of your hand.

And you would always have it, because he wasn’t going anywhere. The man of your (platonic) dreams was here to stay, and whatever you were to him, you were gonna be there for him, no matter what, as well. Nothing would take you away from each other. Not the death of a character, not a rapidly changing career, nothing.

Your hold on each other was still intact when he spoke again, after pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Movie night?’ he asked, lips against your hairline.

“Movie night,” you replied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed <3 ya girl is gonna get some sleep now lmao

#joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x actress!reader #joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn

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cdelphiki · 11 months

Text

For the past year I've been working on my sleep habits, with the goal of going to bed at 10pm everyday instead of at midnight or 1am like I'd been doing for literally 15 years. Sadly (or gladly, depending on how you look at it) I've been fairly successful. Even if I don't meet my goal of being asleep by 10, I'm usually in bed by then and start getting suuuuuper tired at about 9. It's been great for my energy levels throughout the day, and I don't have days where I pass out at 5pm and don't wake up until morning anymore, but it's been terrible for my writing time. Because like 8pm-2am is my BEST time to write.

Anyway. I wanted to finish up this chapter tonight but there's no way its possible. I'm too tired at this point, even though it's only 9, so even though I wanted to get another chapter out for The Time Before within a week of the last one, and it's now been two, it'll likely be another week or two until I have it done. It's at 1000 words atm and I have another 2k words of draft to turn into chapter, which will likely balloon up to 3-4k words. And I've been managing 100-300 words a day lately. 😭 Once upon a time, a year or two ago, I would have banged out 4k words tonight before going to bed late at around 2am. And I just physically cannot anymore.

Anyway. Please enjoy a short excerpt from the next chapter:

I'm really enjoying all the angst potential this story gives.

#I get comments about weekly about how I've abandoned all my works #and i literally havent #not a single work is abandoned #i think about and work on my stuff near daily #i just dont have the time i used to have #because I've taken on more responsibilities during the day AND ive finally started giving myself a decent 8 hours of sleep a night #AND I'm going back to school????? Idk what I'm thinking LMAO #but here we are #I'm working on it i promsie

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convexicalcrow · 8 months

Text

The wind coming from the docks was cold tonight, Cub noted, as he made his way over to Willie's. It wouldn't matter, though, the club would be warm enough once he was inside. He was running a little late though, but it wouldn't matter. It was still early. Willie could handle things just fine.

The boardwalk was strange at this hour. The sun was rapidly setting, and the restaurants were just starting to open. A few early folk were around, but mostly it was quiet and empty. It wouldn't be in an hour or so, though.

One Eyed Willie's club was tucked away down a side alley and upstairs above a seafood restaurant that was also, technically, part of the club. Cub didn't work there, though. He was upstairs behind the bar, mixing the best cocktails this side of town. The restaurant was just there to keep all the straight people away from the leather bar above them.

Willie was waiting for him by the bar when Cub arrived, and he brought him into a tight hug that Cub was glad to reciprocate. God, he loved him. He hadn't been looking for any kind of relationship when he met Willie, given how happy he was with Scar, but a trans butch leather dyke who'd done spear fishing and pearl diving and sailed all over the world was not someone Cub could pass up conversation with.

"We expecting many tonight? Weather's not great out there right now," Cub said.

"We'll get the regulars just fine. Though if I could get you to do inventory before things get really busy, that'd be great. I need to do orders tomorrow and if we need any more drinks for the bar, now's the time to tell me, okay?" Willie said.

"Will do, will do," Cub said.

"Good boy." Willie smiled, and pulled at Cub's hips, drawing him close.

"Oh, feeling like that, are we? I see, I see how it is," Cub said.

Willie kissed him softly. "Well, you did say you were free this week."

"Yes, I did. Bring the trident. I miss her," Cub said.

"She misses you too. Don't worry, you won't be able to walk by the time I'm done with you." Willie kissed him once more, this time more teasingly, before he pulled away. "Alright, get to work, now. There'll be time to play later, alright?"

"Yes, boss!" Cub said, knowing what was coming once the night was over.

Sure enough, an hour later, the club was getting full. Cub had served so many drinks already, and seen a few of his friends, who always tried to get discounted drinks off him, a move which sometimes worked, depending on whether Cub felt he could get away with it or not. They were getting a few drinks in before heading over to drag bingo at Ren's, which Cub would have gone to as well if he hadn't been working. Ahh well. Next time.

"Oh, hey, there you are! Weren't you meant to be here an hour ago?" Cub said, seeing Scar scurrying behind the bar.

"Sorry, sorry, got stuck in traffic again, you know how it is this time of night! What needs doing?" Scar said, switching his jacket for an apron that was hung on a hook in a room just off from the bar.

"Drinks need doing. Go clear the tables, I haven't really had enough time to do that so far," Cub said.

"On it," Scar said and hurried off.

Cub didn't really stop until 1am. He'd like to open a bit later, but zoning laws, noise issues, it was all just not worth the hassle. And it always took an hour to clean up after everyone had gone, and finish up the banking.

"What do you even see in Willie anyway? I'd never have pegged you for him being your type," Scar said as he leaned on the bar, watching Cub finish up.

Cub shrugged. "I dunno, we just clicked, I guess. I mean, you like him too, right?"

"Oh, sure, sure! I wouldn't be here if I didn't. He just wasn't someone I expected you to get with, that's all. But don't worry, I'm not jealous! I just think it's fascinating, that's all," Scar said.

Cub smiled. "He's just... I dunno. He's really cool. And I think I just saw him for who he was, you know? Didn't make judgements, just let him be. The trident's also very good."

Scar laughed. "You masochist, you."

"That's me, yessir," Cub said.

"What have you done this time, hey?" Willie said, wrapping an arm around Cub's shoulders. "Nearly done? I'm dying to get out of here."

"Nearly done. Just need your signatures on the deposits and then we can stash these away and go," Cub said.

"Scar, you coming tonight? You know there's always an open invitation for you at mine if you ever want it. We're just gonna watch movies and crash, how does that sound?" Willie said.

"You know what? That sounds great, yeah! I could do with that after the rush tonight. Who knew Ren would just send everyone here after bingo!" Scar said with a laugh.

"I mean, he did give us a head's up about that, but we don't mind. It was good to see the club really packed. We'll get a few more regulars out of that I reckon. Anyway. I'm done with this, let's get out of here," Cub said.

There were no disagreements.

Willie had the biggest bed Cub had ever seen, and it was a good thing, because it meant he and Scar could snuggle up either side of him as they watched some trashy movie Willie had picked out to wind down the night. The kind of dumb action movie you didn't really need to pay attention to.

Was it what he and Willie initially planned for this evening? Not really. But did it matter? Not really. Cub was with his two favourite people. What more did he need in life than this?

#hermitshipping #fanfic #convex #cubfan135 #gtwscar #one eyed willie #decked out 2 #queer au #in which cub/scar/willie polycule #leather clubs #and cub the potion master #i had an Idea and had to run with it okay?#suggestive #a little bit #with a few lil kisses #but that's all #i just had to get this out of my head before i headed off to bed #hermitfic

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thatbrightblueshine · 9 months

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it's dark in the room they're in, the air reeks of sandalwood and peppermint, weird combination that. but pleasant nevertheless, different from the hotel rooms at home.

this continues the fic i wrote a couple days ago, thought this could go on for a little longer. i'm a sucker for these two at the moment.

trippier x pope under the cut.

the weather outside was disastrous - their plane had been delayed and it took them another two hours to even arrive at their hotel only for the electricity to be cut off due to the storm. most of the lads took it with humour - "the result can now only be better than this weather, no matter how bad we'll play" eddie joked. hoped he'd keep that one to himself during the press conference, anyway.

just like during england camps, the lads like to visit each other's rooms for chats, to play games or just to pass the times between training and recovery. but tonight felt so different, the hotel staff kept running through the halls to inform them on the power situation, apologising over and over again and that they're working hard on fixing it. kieran was annoyed. it was his 33rd birthday. he couldn't sleep, was glad he'd brought his powerbank so he could at least charge his phone, but as soon as someone figured he had one, it ended up being passed around until, ultimately, it was nowhere to be found anymore, and of course, no one wanted to admit keeping it. just before 12am a bunch of the lads had knocked on his door to bring him a little cake, clearly was brought over all the way from england. it looked a little mushy, the pink sugar writing reading "happy 33rd birthday, captain" slightly smudged, but he didn't mind, appreciated the gesture nevertheless. dan sang happy birthday off tune, the new lad, lewis was his name, lighting up the little candle in the middle of it. "go on mate, make a wish!" anthony cheered. kieran forced a smile, pretended to be happy and that. he closed his eyes and made his wish, blew out the candle and was applauded by everyone that had turned up at his door, one face however missing - nick.

nick's room was all the way down the corridor, which seemed just endless. kieran wasn't going to conquer it more than once, not wanting to seem pushy. not wanting to make it obvious he was in desperate need of comfort, in desperate need to have a word or two with him. needed clearance. night broke in, the streets outside pitch black. no street lights working. darkness wherever you turned.

1am.

rain kept crashing against the windows so hard you'd think they'd shatter any second, as if someone threw rocks against them constantly. the hotel had many windows, the noise making it impossible to sleep. the power had returned for a little while until it was once again cut off. claustrophobic. trapped in a strange place. kieran had struggled with that in the past, but none of his teammates knew about that, didn't think it would ever be relevant. tonight it could be. it wasn't panic attack bad, but it was anxiety going through the roof bad. he had tried to clear his head, drank a lot of water, chatted with alexander in the corridors. "rainy night that is. seems like we can't ever escape it, not even over here." kieran joked. "brought it with us i suppose." alexander seemed tired but just like many others, unable to sleep. it was a strange night. a strange feeling, a strange place. "suppose i should head back to my room, see you in the morning." alexander patted kieran on the shoulder and made his way back to his room, from which you could hear loud chatter and light laughs. kieran peaked through the door before it was shut, spotting dan and fabian playing cards - he would've joined, but was afraid he'd kill the mood with his anxious thoughts. was too afraid to show it. didn't want to be vulnerable.

2am.

nick laid awake. not because of the weather, well, maybe because of that, too, but because he kept thinking about the last time he'd been with kieran. they hadn't really spoken ever since that, nick was afraid he'd gone too far with him. kieran told him it was alright, enjoyed it even, nick felt just dirty. bad memories taking over him. the fear of him ending up just like the man he swore he would become. "i'm not like that, he's not me. i'm not him." kept repeating these words in his head, afraid it would only make it worse. thought about it too much. he needed to clear his head. wanted to go for a late night run, couldn't due to the weather. wanted to see kieran, felt like he couldn't talk whenever he saw him, like something stuck in his throat. rain crashing against the windows like rocks thrown by rebellious teens. nick was hot. the city was moist and currently struck by a heatwave. the acs not working, nothing to distract himself with. phone at 7%. his sister texted him.

"hope you're good x text me when you get to it, mum says hi 👋🏻 "

didn't feel like answering, head too full. thoughts all over the place, the room dark. a single candle is lit by the bathroom door, a scented one. the flame his only company.

3am.

kieran's head was about to explode. he didn't want to talk to anyone - didn't want to alarm the others, let alone the gaffer. it was matchday after all, and kieran was one of the most important figures in the team. the captain. the leader, some might say. wanted to go see nick more than anything, but ever since brentford at home things had changed. it had been roughly two days and maybe he was overthinking it all, but the expression on nick's face right after they'd left the shower was something he had never seen on him, had never seen on anyone at all. he couldn't read him at all, eyes dark, as if he wasn't himself. as if he was in shock, empty. it was his 33rd birthday. a year older. his knees hurt sometimes, the pain in the left one distracting him right now. he worked like a madman on the pitch every week, trained like one too. played 90 minutes every time.

"you're not 19 anymore, remember that. take care." the gaffer would say. sometimes the concept of time would catch up to him, sneak up on him like a bill he hadn't yet payed, like a promise he had broken. time passes quickly in football once you've hit 30, kyle would always say. doesn't matter how good you still are, you will not always be able to hold that standard. you will eventually not be there for the next world cup, the next champions league. pressure. he needs to keep going, this might be the last time he will experience all that. take it all in, take it all in.

4am.

nick woke up in a cold sweat - another nightmare. his face wet, unsure whether he had cried or was just sweaty. maybe a shower will clear his head. he checked his phone, 4:12am. 6% battery, the power still gone. a text from kieran popped up.

"need to talk, mind if head down to yours?" nick swiped upwards and replied with a simple "sure", not wanting to waste more battery life. no time to shower now. he pulled a shirt over his head and got up, leaning on the bed frame for a solid minute. "get yourself together, fucks sake." he spoke to himself, his voice echoing in his head, hand scuffling through his hair. he needed a trim, a shave, too.

a quite knock on his door, so quite it was barely noticeable with what's going on outside. he got up and opened. kieran stood in front of him, black nike shirt, black boxers and white socks with slides. he didn't say a word, didn't need to. "you okay mate?" nick asked, hands in his pockets. "no." kieran pushed nick aside and got in. "alright then" nick shut the door and turned around to see kieran sat on the edge of his bed, hands in his face, sniffling. nick could tell kieran wasn't doing all too well from the moment he had laid eyes on him, but he didn't know it was like that.

"what's happened? you want to talk about it?" kieran shook his head. "it's just. everything, y'know. everything. i'm fucking old. i'm lost. it's my birthday and i'm lost." nick often had a hard time comforting people, especially with the bad headspace he was in himself at the moment. their lives somehow found themselves at a turning point, with separate curses. maybe turning into the same direction. "right. happy birthday, might not be the right time bu-" kieran looked up "it's not that. my knee fucking hurts. it hurts nick. also thanks. i'm OLD!" nick almost cracked a laugh, but he knew this wasn't the right time. "you picked up a knock then? want me to have look at it?" kieran said nothing. just kept whining like a lost dog. nick kneeled down to inspect his knee, somehow.

it's dark in the room they're in, the air reeks of sandalwood and peppermint, weird combination that. but pleasant nevertheless, different from the hotel rooms at home. nick got back up and picked up the candle from the drawer to have a look at kieran's knee. "can't see nothing, maybe you should talk to the physio in the morning?" nick looked up and his eyes met with kieran's, like a magnet, connected. brown meeting blue. earth meeting water. the water collided with the earth, kieran's hand on nick's cheek, wetting it with his tears. nick melted into kieran's hand, like a cat disobeying his owner. "you're so beautiful. oh how i missed you." kieran chuckled "it's only been two days" nick couldn't take his eyes off him - the candle in his hand creating a comfortable warmth around them, alighting every little detail he loved about the man above him. the freckles on his cheeks, his shirt where the collar is ripped just enough for his chest tattoo to peak through, his curly hair, his beard stubble, so scratchy yet so beautiful on him. so afraid to fall in love. so hard not to. kieran's skin was soft under his hands, he rubbed his knee carefully. "does this hurt then?" kieran shook his head. "you could never hurt me."

nick placed the candle onto the bedside table and finally gave in - gave in to what he was so afraid of. he laid his hands on each side of kieran's cheeks and melted into him, their mouths becoming one once again. nick's hand slowly went down to kieran's neck, eventually stopping at his slightly ripped collar. "bloody hate this ..." he pulls on it - rips his whole shirt down to his bellybutton, kissing along the chaos he had just created with his own hands. kieran throws his head back, his hands messing with nick's hair. another rip and kieran's shirt comes apart fully, nick helping him out of the remains of it. "you're quite the-" "shh. don't speak. let's listen to the rain instead." nick says, slowly pulling kieran's boxers down, proper teasing, unable to take his eyes off kieran's. something in kieran's eyes tonight, even more admirable than normally. covered in something more than just sadness, despair almost. anxiety. a pinch of arousal, too. it's like reading into his mind.

nick began kissing the inside of kieran's thighs, the little tattoo he had on his hip that only few knew about. he squeezed his hips, his large hands rubbing over his chest and back down. kieran gasps, too dark to read the expression on his face. no need for that, nick could tell by his breathing, by his echoing heartbeat, becoming faster with every time his lips met with his skin. again, again, and again. a little lick here and there. nick began stroking kieran's cock, looking right at him. the candle had burned down, the light becoming dimmer. "you're good?" nick asked softly. "yeah." kieran answered in a low voice. "better now that you're here with me." another kiss, kieran tasting like whipped cream and strawberries, figured he had some of the cake the lads got for him before. swore there was bit of it left on the side of his mouth. nick pushed kieran's body up the bed a little more, got undressed himself. shirt and boxers thrown into the corner of the room carelessly. he got back on top of kieran, his hand going straight back between his legs. kieran was still soft, so he began slow, whispering into his ear. barely audible, rain still crashing against the windows. words didn't matter, all that mattered was nick's warm breath against kieran's ear, the occasional kiss on his neck as he slowly got harder and harder in nick's hand.

his hand went up and down on him in slow motions, knowing they had all time in the world right now. as if time had stopped. here and now nothing mattered - kieran's age, the pain in his knee, nick's fear. all pushed aside for now. just the warmth of each other's touch, all they needed. kieran moaned, his head thrown into the soft mattress, his hands tightly wrapped around nick's shoulders. "keep going ... just like that ..." kieran whispered under his heavy breath, barely audible. nick lifted his body up a little and began thrusting his own cock into the silky sheets underneath him, the feeling of the soft fabric on him making his body tremble. almost too distracted with his own pleasure, he finally took kieran's cock into his mouth, the movements his body made onto the sheets harmonising with his mouth on kieran's now fully hard cock. the taste of precum gracing his taste buds, warm in his mouth. he spit on kieran's cock before taking it back into his palm, his thumb drawing circles across his tip, kieran twitching under his touch, knows he's close. he runs his tongue across it, his hips on the sheets united with the moves of his tongue. careful, slowly. nick's cock rubs against the sheets roughly, practically fucking into the mattress.

he stops for a moment to take it all in, holding kieran's cock by the base, tightly, as he focuses on the sensation of the feeling of the fabric underneath him, sticky and wet from his own precum, every thrust his cock makes against it sending shivers down his spine. he bites his lips, feels kieran leaking the sweet clear juice. it gets between his fingers, warm and delightful. he stops his hips from moving, instead taking kieran back into his mouth. he pushed his mouth over his length, tickling the back of his throat. over and over again, his spit wetting the sheets. kieran has gone nonverbal, his mouth open, heartbeat beating against his tattooed chest. candle almost burned out, the smell of it, of something coming to an end, covering the room. fitting. nick lays his tongue under the tip of kieran's cock, squeezing the base lightly, until, finally, kieran cums straight onto his tongue, shooting all the way into his throat. nick rubs himself onto the sheets more eagerly now, knowing he is close himself. just as kieran had come down from his high, his cum still running down nick's throat, hand still on the base of his cock, nick's eyes roll back, mouth open, the most obscene moan escaping his lips, barely audible. the space between the sheets and his stomach wet, his forehead covered in sweat. he hovers above kieran, picking himself up from the wet spot, the mess he's made of the sheets. "kiss me ..." kieran says breathless. "i want to taste me..." nick wipes some of his own cum onto kieran's lips like a balm, before their mouths collide.

nick is laid on top of kieran, nick's hands playing with the curls on kieran's head. "i need a trim i know." he says. "your hair always looks good. it's not curly like mine." nick shushes him lovingly, his head on his chest listening to kieran's heartbeat. slow, calm. in peace. "your curls are one of the things i love most about you. that and you. just. you. all of you." nick didn't lose control tonight, didn't turn into what the voices inside his head warned him about. peace.

5am.

the sky has cleared up, the sun rises above the city of milan. the power turns back on - cheers are heard from the lads in the rooms around them. the candle had burned down long ago, no longer in need of its warmth, its light. they're still laid on top of one another, fingers connected. looking into each others eyes. brown met blue - water met earth, colliding. turning into mud. becoming one.

#rambles #fic

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